Disclamer: Not mine.
Summary: Roger and Martin's bond deepens as they take another step forward in their friendship.
o0o
"Paper work!" Roger, frustrated, plunked the file down on his desk. "Maybe I should take your advice and not bother with reports."
"You should," Martin agreed, making an attempt at his own. "But that's not you Rog. You take pride in everything you do."
"That sounded like a compliment," Roger said, looking pleased.
"It was," Martin confirmed, warmly.
"Thank you," Roger replied, in a quiet appreciative voice.
"You're welcome! Hey, you want some coffee?" Martin asked, getting up to grab himself a cup in the next room.
"Sure," Roger said, not ready yet to plunge back into writing out the details of his last case.
"It's oddly not bad," Martin noted , handing a cup to his partner. Taking a seat, he made a face at the material in front of him, but got back to work.
"Hey Riggs," Roger asked, after a few moments, mulling something over in his mind.
"Yeah?" Martin looked up, pushing back a section of hair that had fallen in his face.
"I have a question."
"Shoot," Martin leaned back, hands behind his head.
"Your dog."
"What about him?" Martin questioned, his expression becoming guarded.
Thrown momentarily by the change in his partner's demeanor. Roger continued. "You didn't bring the dog over last night, and I didn't see him when we stopped by at Christmas."
"He's gone," Martin replied, softly.
"Gone how?" Like in you found his owner or that he ran away?"
"Dead," Riggs answered, suddenly fighting back tears. Ambushed by his own emotions, he bolted from the room.
o0o
"Hey, you okay?" Roger asked, finding Riggs on the roof. Not seated overlooking the city but in its center on a low ledge outside a conference room.
"I'm sorry," Martin said, as Roger took a seat beside him.
"For what?" Roger asked.
"Getting all upset about a dog."
"Hey, he meant something to you. Don't apologize for that."
"At the clinic I took him to, the vet said, it was natural. His time to go I guess," Martin explained, turning to make eye contact with Roger. "When he didn't, wake me up to feed him..."
"He was lucky to have found you. To have someone care about him." Roger spoke, in a soothiing voice.
"I always wanted a dog," Martin said, revealing a bit about himself to a surprised Roger.
"You did?"
"Yeah, since I was a kid. Which of course would never happen in my family with its issues. Don't ask," Martin added. "But when Miranda got pregnant we talked a lot about our future together, the dreams we had and getting a dog when our child was old enough, was part of it."
"It's funny," Martin paused, in thought.
"What is?" Roger urged, him, on gently.
"We''d argue, not in any serious way, over what kind of dog to get."
"Did you ever agree on one?" Roger asked.
"No. We didn't have to, she knew I'd cave. I couldn't say no to her. When it came down to it, what dog we got didn't matter. I was just happy to be planning a future with her. It sounds stupid I know," Martin continued. . "But having that sweet dog. It was like having a little part of our dream back again."
"No, Riggs. It doesn't sound stupid at all," Roger assured, him, softly.
"Living hurts," Martin admited, the pain heard in his voice. "But you make it a little easier, Roger. You, Trish and your kids. Thank you."
"Anytime, and I mean that," Roger, said putting a hand on Martin's shoulder.
"Thanks, too for making me an honorary member of your family."
"Honorary?" Roger chuckled. "Hell no, you get treated just like every one else."
"Sounds good to me," Martin nodded, teary eyed.
Not knowing what to expect, Roger went with his heart and pulled Martin's head to his chest. Getting a little emotional bimself when he got no protest.