San Francisco Detective Lieutenant Mike Stone looked over the top of his black-framed reading glasses a split second after the six-page report hit his desk. His weary-looking partner was rubbing a hand over his face and trying somewhat successfully to stifle a yawn.

It was dark outside the venetian-blind covered window in the small inner office. The overhead fluorescents were off in the bullpen and only one desk was manned; a newly minted assistant inspector had drawn the highly unpopular overnight shift.

Putting down the file he was holding, Mike took his glasses off with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. As he put the glasses back on, he glanced at his watch. "There's no point in both of us sitting around here all night. Why don't you call it a night?"

Closing his eyes, putting his hands on his lower back and arching his shoulders, Inspector Steve Keller snorted a dry laugh. "You picked me up this morning, remember?"

"Yes, I remember," the older man intoned almost petulantly as he lifted the new report, his eyes already scanning the top page, "but you can take the car home and pick me up tomorrow morning." He glanced up with a brief wry smile. "I'm a big boy, I know how to take a cab."

Steve stopped moving and eyed his partner warily. "You're sure?" Without looking up from the report, Mike nodded. A huge grin erupted on the younger man's face. "You don't have to tell me twice." He turned on his heel and strode with renewed vigor back to his desk, snagging his jacket from the back of the chair.

He was shrugging the beige jacket on and had taken a step towards the outer office door when Mike's voice drifted out of the inner office. "Say hi to Ellie for me!"

Steve slid to a stop, freezing slightly before chuckling and shaking his head. With a deep loud sigh, he continued towards the door, his partner's hearty laugh ringing in his ears.

Smiling and chuckling, Mike reached down and pulled out the lower desk drawer, leaning back in his chair and putting his right foot on the metal lip.

Steve had met Eleanor Bridger a little more then three months before, and the homicide inspector had been immediately smitten with the stunning brunette prosecutor with low, gravelly voice and earthy sense of humour. Even with their heavy schedules and demanding professions, they had managed to spend a good deal of time together. They made sure they met for drinks at least three times a week, usually late in the evening, and had set aside one night a week, at a minimum, for dinner, either out or at home. They had just returned from a week's vacation in Cancun, and Mike had heard talk about them actually moving in together.

The older man's attention had strayed and, with a gentle chuckle, he looked back at the report in his hand. He had met Ellie a number of times, and had even joined them for dinner one night, and he was very impressed with the dynamic young woman who had seemed to capture his young partner's heart.

Mike sighed. In the past four years, he had seen a lot of women drift in and out of Steve's life; there had been a few he had looked upon affectionately and was disappointed when they disappeared. He had long ago stopped commenting on the revolving-door of his young friend's love life.

But this time was different; Ellie Bridger was in another category altogether. And for the first time in their years together, Mike could see a seriousness in his young partner that wasn't there before. Ellie Bridger could be the one.

Mike grinned to himself. If he had anything to say about it, she definitely would be.

# # # # #

"So what time do you have to be there tomorrow?"

Ellie put her wineglass down then picked a giant shrimp off the rim of the cocktail glass, dipping it in the seafood sauce and bringing it to her mouth. "John wants the team there at 7. Opening arguments start at 9."

"I have the car, I can drop you off."

She looked at him, frowning with a slight smile. "I thought Mike had the car," she said before biting into the shrimp.

"He's staying late going over that report I had to finish. He's the reason I could make it here at a semi-decent hour. He's taking a cab home."

"Awww, he's a sweetie," she said with a gentle chuckle as she put the shrimp tail on the edge of the small white plate under the cocktail glass. "Remind me to buy him a drink the next time he goes out to dinner with us."

Laughing, Steve reached for a shrimp. "So, what do you think your chances are?"

"With Tolivar?" she asked, eyebrows raised, and he nodded. She shrugged, reaching for another shrimp. "At this point, your guess is as good as mine. We think we have enough but who knows? Tolivar has very deep pockets and he has the best defense team I've ever come up against. I mean, hell, they even have F. Lee Bailey as a consultant."

Steve grinned. "My money's on you." He laughed at her smirk, reaching for his wine and taking a sip, his eyes sparkling overtop of the glass.

"Thanks," she intoned dryly, then chuckled and continued. "Anyway, John's gonna want us to be there all day, every day, so this could be the last time we get to do this until the Tolivar case is over. And who knows how long that's going to be. It's a political hot potato."

He put the glass down with a thud. "Yeah, I know." They hadn't seen much of each other since their return from Mexico; Ellie had been deeply immersed in prep for the Tolivar case and he and Mike had caught a case, a high-profile foreign businessman killed by a jealous colleague, that had kept them busy day and night for over a week.

She reached across the table and laid her hand over his. She stared into his eyes and smiled with encouraging sadness. "You know, I think maybe we should start to think about combining our, ah…resources." She raised her eyebrows. "What do you think?"

"I think we both need another drink, and another shrimp cocktail. What do you say?"

She leaned back in her chair and grinned. "You're on." With a deep throaty laugh, she tossed her dark hair back and cocked her head, raising her right hand and snapping her fingers. "Garcon!"

Laughing, Steve sat back in his own chair and grinned.

# # # # #

The large tan sedan swung onto Union and pulled to the curb outside the small grey-blue clapboard apartment building. Both doors opened.

The street was deserted; Steve could see his old gold Porsche parked a little further down the cul-de-sac. There were no lights on anywhere along the short street; it was well past midnight and The City was asleep.

He opened the back door of the LTD and picked up the garment bag that was spread across the backseat. Ellie waited for him on the sidewalk, her overnight bag already in hand. Tossing the garment bag over his shoulder, he circled the car to join her on the sidewalk, stopping briefly to put his free hand on the back of her head and pull her into a quick kiss before leading the way up the short flights of stairs to his front door.

She preceded him over the threshold after he opened the door then took a step back, gesturing comically with a bow. A light in the living room snapped on and the door closed.

At the end of the cul-de-sac, the lights of a dark blue Ford Pinto snapped on as the engine turned over. Very slowly the small car crawled up the street, past the now lit apartment, and, without signaling, turned left onto Montgomery.