[Streets of San Francisco fanfiction] Just a hat
This is my first attempt at writing a story for a prompt and one that isn't based on an episode. I think it turned out pretty good. The prompt is in the summary.
Title: Just a hat
Rating: G
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst I guess
Characters: Steve Keller, Mike Stone, Jeannie Stone
Spoilers: none
Warnings: None
Summary: "A knot in his stomach formed as he saw the familiar fedora lying on the floor." How could a nice evening out go wrong so fast?
Disclaimer: All characters are property of CBS, Warner Brothers and Quinn Martin and sadly not mine. I just take them along for the ride. Special thanks to my dear friend Sarah for being the best beta in the world and the girls of a SOSF fangroup for their support. Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed one of my others stories.
A knot in his stomach formed as he saw the familiar fedora lying on the floor. He stood there for a moment, just staring at the almost mocking object.
It had been a great evening out at an Italian restaurant, Jeannie’s pick on her first day home from college for the holidays. She had invited Steve to tag along when she had visited them at the office earlier, wanting to catch up with him, too. Of course Mike had grumbled - good-naturedly - that his own daughter preferred his partner over him and had proceeded to thank them that they so graciously let him join.
With no urgent or big case that demanded any overtime, a rare occasion, they had called it a day early and had met an hour later at the nice little restaurant where they had enjoyed an excellent dinner that they had spent chatting and laughing.
The young cop couldn’t believe that the evening had gone so wrong in just a blink of an eye.
They had paid for dinner, or rather Mike had after a little - not so seriously meant - persuasion from the other two, and had gathered their coats and hat respectively. Just as they had been about to leave, Steve’s hand had already touched the door’s handle to open it gentleman-like for the woman in their midst, it was pushed open roughly from the outside.
Barely managing to keep his balance, Keller had been about to protest when a gun had swiftly been stuck in his face, and on instinct he had taken a step back, closer to his friends. Not wanting to take his eyes of the revolver just inches from his body he hadn’t been able to take a look at his partner’s face, but he hadn’t had to anyway, he had been sure that his thoughts had been reflected in the lieutenant’s eyes.
The young man with the gun, barely in his twenties, had been followed by a second one of roughly the same age whose weapon had been cocked and pointed as well; he had quickly approached the restaurant’s owner, Tony, behind the counter. Meanwhile his partner had motioned with a wink of his revolver for the three of them to join the only other guests present, an elderly couple at a nearby table.
Being at a disadvantage, Steve hadn’t been carrying and, as he had known, neither had his friend, they had had no other choice than to comply. Plus the kids had seemed to have little to no experience with both robbery and handling guns. So the safest way for the sake of all of their lives would have been to just let them take the money and leave, and then call it in. And, judging by Stone’s almost imperceptible nodding to his partner’s unspoken question, he had seen it the same way.
Still, the cop in him had cautioned Keller to remain vigilant of the robber’s actions nonetheless.
And the tiny voice inside had been right.
Because Tony, apparently having come to the same conclusion about the kids’ inexperience, hadn’t had passivity on his mind as he had grabbed for the nearest gunman’s weapon precisely at the moment as the other man had focused on taking the offered money.
Steve had silently cursed the Italian as he had tackled the second kid who, after a moment of shock at the turn of events, had trained his gun on the now armed owner. A wrestling over the gun had ensued between Keller and the nameless youngster while the older cop had ushered both his daughter and the elderly couple to safety behind the kitchen door before turning back to come to his partner’s aid.
A shot had rung out all of a sudden then, followed by a deadly silence.
Keller had used the distraction to finally get full possession of the weapon and had swiftly pushed the young man down to the ground, holding him there while he had seen in his peripheral vision that the Italian had motioned for the second robber to take a seat at the wall before tossing him a piece of rope to tie himself up.
Just as Steve had been about to ask for one, he had heard a loud thud. Alarmed, he had turned his head to the source of it, only to discover his partner lying motionless on the ground next to a fallen chair with blood all over the left side of his upper torso.
And the hat he had worn had rolled away in a circle, eerily stopping its motion instantly when it had fallen to the floor like its owner had just a moment earlier.
The remembrance of the moving fedora brought Steve out of his stare at said object now and after approaching he kneeled down in front of it. His right hand reached out but stopped just short of touching it, as his memory once again took over.
‘Mike’, he had shouted, not bothering to hide the tone of desperation in his voice. He had gotten no response.
Thankfully Tony had moved over to bind the second robber, enabling the young cop to run over to his fallen friend just as Jeannie had emerged from the kitchen, clearly alarmed by the shout of her father’s name. She had joined him in a flash and had kneeled down next to the wounded man with one hand clasping her father’s and the other pressed against her mouth. She had alternated between calling ‘Dad’ and sobbing while Keller, after feeling for a pulse and finding a rapid one, had held a table cloth against the bullet wound to apply pressure, shouting for someone to call 911 and begging for Mike to hold on.
The arrival of the paramedics had pulled him out of his zone and he had reluctantly given up the physical contact to the older cop that he had needed to assure himself that his friend had still been alive, stepping back to let them do their job and save his friend.
Jeannie had stumbled over to him with tears running down her cheeks and he had pulled her close, hugging her tightly and whispering that her father would be okay, words that even he hadn’t quiet believed at the view of the alarmingly fast growing pool of blood. His gaze had searched for his mentor’s face over the head of the man’s shaking daughter, fighting against the tears that had threatened to form and fall. One of the paramedics had shifted to the side after a moment, and Keller hadn’t been able to believe the sight that had greeted him. Mike’s eyes had been open, wandering slowly until they had rested on his partner’s and the corners of his mouth had been pulled up into the tiniest of smiles.
Quickly Steve had released his grip on the sobbing woman in his arms and had gently turned her around. Returning the smile, Steve had guided Jeannie over to the cop as the man had been loaded onto a stretcher, his arms still protectively around her. The older paramedic informed them that the gunshot wound hadn’t been life-threatening and that their friend apparently had knocked his head while falling which had caused the man’s - concussion-induced - unresponsiveness before the stretcher was rolled to the waiting ambulance.
Since only one person had been allowed to ride along Steve had told Jeannie that he would meet them shortly at the hospital before the van’s doors had been closed and the vehicle had driven away.
Turning around with a sigh of relief, Keller had entered the restaurant again to collect the object that now was lying an inch from his outstretched hand. Nothing more than just a hat and yet it was such a part of the man who had come to mean so much to him. It had been close this day, much closer than the inspector had hoped he’d ever see. Thankfully, they had all come out of it alive in the end, even if hadn’t looked that way earlier.
So as he picked up the fedora and left the restaurant to take it where it belonged, the knot in his stomach disappeared.
Title: Just a hat
Rating: G
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst I guess
Characters: Steve Keller, Mike Stone, Jeannie Stone
Spoilers: none
Warnings: None
Summary: "A knot in his stomach formed as he saw the familiar fedora lying on the floor." How could a nice evening out go wrong so fast?
Disclaimer: All characters are property of CBS, Warner Brothers and Quinn Martin and sadly not mine. I just take them along for the ride. Special thanks to my dear friend Sarah for being the best beta in the world and the girls of a SOSF fangroup for their support. Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed one of my others stories.
A knot in his stomach formed as he saw the familiar fedora lying on the floor. He stood there for a moment, just staring at the almost mocking object.
It had been a great evening out at an Italian restaurant, Jeannie’s pick on her first day home from college for the holidays. She had invited Steve to tag along when she had visited them at the office earlier, wanting to catch up with him, too. Of course Mike had grumbled - good-naturedly - that his own daughter preferred his partner over him and had proceeded to thank them that they so graciously let him join.
With no urgent or big case that demanded any overtime, a rare occasion, they had called it a day early and had met an hour later at the nice little restaurant where they had enjoyed an excellent dinner that they had spent chatting and laughing.
The young cop couldn’t believe that the evening had gone so wrong in just a blink of an eye.
They had paid for dinner, or rather Mike had after a little - not so seriously meant - persuasion from the other two, and had gathered their coats and hat respectively. Just as they had been about to leave, Steve’s hand had already touched the door’s handle to open it gentleman-like for the woman in their midst, it was pushed open roughly from the outside.
Barely managing to keep his balance, Keller had been about to protest when a gun had swiftly been stuck in his face, and on instinct he had taken a step back, closer to his friends. Not wanting to take his eyes of the revolver just inches from his body he hadn’t been able to take a look at his partner’s face, but he hadn’t had to anyway, he had been sure that his thoughts had been reflected in the lieutenant’s eyes.
The young man with the gun, barely in his twenties, had been followed by a second one of roughly the same age whose weapon had been cocked and pointed as well; he had quickly approached the restaurant’s owner, Tony, behind the counter. Meanwhile his partner had motioned with a wink of his revolver for the three of them to join the only other guests present, an elderly couple at a nearby table.
Being at a disadvantage, Steve hadn’t been carrying and, as he had known, neither had his friend, they had had no other choice than to comply. Plus the kids had seemed to have little to no experience with both robbery and handling guns. So the safest way for the sake of all of their lives would have been to just let them take the money and leave, and then call it in. And, judging by Stone’s almost imperceptible nodding to his partner’s unspoken question, he had seen it the same way.
Still, the cop in him had cautioned Keller to remain vigilant of the robber’s actions nonetheless.
And the tiny voice inside had been right.
Because Tony, apparently having come to the same conclusion about the kids’ inexperience, hadn’t had passivity on his mind as he had grabbed for the nearest gunman’s weapon precisely at the moment as the other man had focused on taking the offered money.
Steve had silently cursed the Italian as he had tackled the second kid who, after a moment of shock at the turn of events, had trained his gun on the now armed owner. A wrestling over the gun had ensued between Keller and the nameless youngster while the older cop had ushered both his daughter and the elderly couple to safety behind the kitchen door before turning back to come to his partner’s aid.
A shot had rung out all of a sudden then, followed by a deadly silence.
Keller had used the distraction to finally get full possession of the weapon and had swiftly pushed the young man down to the ground, holding him there while he had seen in his peripheral vision that the Italian had motioned for the second robber to take a seat at the wall before tossing him a piece of rope to tie himself up.
Just as Steve had been about to ask for one, he had heard a loud thud. Alarmed, he had turned his head to the source of it, only to discover his partner lying motionless on the ground next to a fallen chair with blood all over the left side of his upper torso.
And the hat he had worn had rolled away in a circle, eerily stopping its motion instantly when it had fallen to the floor like its owner had just a moment earlier.
The remembrance of the moving fedora brought Steve out of his stare at said object now and after approaching he kneeled down in front of it. His right hand reached out but stopped just short of touching it, as his memory once again took over.
‘Mike’, he had shouted, not bothering to hide the tone of desperation in his voice. He had gotten no response.
Thankfully Tony had moved over to bind the second robber, enabling the young cop to run over to his fallen friend just as Jeannie had emerged from the kitchen, clearly alarmed by the shout of her father’s name. She had joined him in a flash and had kneeled down next to the wounded man with one hand clasping her father’s and the other pressed against her mouth. She had alternated between calling ‘Dad’ and sobbing while Keller, after feeling for a pulse and finding a rapid one, had held a table cloth against the bullet wound to apply pressure, shouting for someone to call 911 and begging for Mike to hold on.
The arrival of the paramedics had pulled him out of his zone and he had reluctantly given up the physical contact to the older cop that he had needed to assure himself that his friend had still been alive, stepping back to let them do their job and save his friend.
Jeannie had stumbled over to him with tears running down her cheeks and he had pulled her close, hugging her tightly and whispering that her father would be okay, words that even he hadn’t quiet believed at the view of the alarmingly fast growing pool of blood. His gaze had searched for his mentor’s face over the head of the man’s shaking daughter, fighting against the tears that had threatened to form and fall. One of the paramedics had shifted to the side after a moment, and Keller hadn’t been able to believe the sight that had greeted him. Mike’s eyes had been open, wandering slowly until they had rested on his partner’s and the corners of his mouth had been pulled up into the tiniest of smiles.
Quickly Steve had released his grip on the sobbing woman in his arms and had gently turned her around. Returning the smile, Steve had guided Jeannie over to the cop as the man had been loaded onto a stretcher, his arms still protectively around her. The older paramedic informed them that the gunshot wound hadn’t been life-threatening and that their friend apparently had knocked his head while falling which had caused the man’s - concussion-induced - unresponsiveness before the stretcher was rolled to the waiting ambulance.
Since only one person had been allowed to ride along Steve had told Jeannie that he would meet them shortly at the hospital before the van’s doors had been closed and the vehicle had driven away.
Turning around with a sigh of relief, Keller had entered the restaurant again to collect the object that now was lying an inch from his outstretched hand. Nothing more than just a hat and yet it was such a part of the man who had come to mean so much to him. It had been close this day, much closer than the inspector had hoped he’d ever see. Thankfully, they had all come out of it alive in the end, even if hadn’t looked that way earlier.
So as he picked up the fedora and left the restaurant to take it where it belonged, the knot in his stomach disappeared.