December 16; 7:58am

"This is a joke, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking, Riggs?"

I just glared back at Murphy. "This is the dumbest thing I've heard. I'm the best cop in Narcotics. Why, with everything we have going on, would they pull me for some shit detail over in Homicide. I don't want to go to Homicide - I don't give a shit about Homicide. I need to keep working the cases I'm on." I puffed furiously on my cigarette. "Does this have to do with the sniper yesterday? SWAT pissed off because I got to the guy before their clowns could?"

Captain Murphy's eyebrows raised high. "Are you kidding? No… SWAT is not pissed off at you. In fact, Gannon was just here this morning, begging for me to convince you to transfer." Murphy gave a half-smile. "Just like he does every year…" The captain frowned slightly as he took a swig of coffee. "Honestly, Riggs, I don't know why you stay in Narcotics anyway. With your background and training, you're a natural for SWAT."

I just shrugged. "I have my reasons."

"Yes, I suppose you do." Leaning over, Murphy held a piece of paper out for me. "Here's the info. You need to see Sergeant Roger Murtaugh in Robbery-Homicide ASAP." I reached out, crumpling up the sheet as I shoved it into the pocket of my jacket. If I had known that this morning was going to turn out this way, I would have gotten even more drunk last night than I did. I suddenly noticed a peculiar look come over the captain's face as he glanced behind me. He quickly focused his attention back to the piles of folders on his desk, rearranging them with a nervous energy. "Uhmm… okay, Riggs. That's it – now get the hell out of my office. I've got a meeting."

Shifting in my chair, I looked over my shoulder to see Dr. Woods standing off to one side of the corridor, a thick file in her hand. The sensation of seeing her felt like a punch in the gut and it pissed me off to no end that she was having such an effect on me. I quickly focused my gaze back to my commanding officer. "With her? Your meeting is with her?"

Captain Murphy did his best to look irritated. "Riggs, my meeting schedule is none of your business."

"Just tell me you're not meeting with her!" But by the expression on Murphy's face, I knew that was exactly who he was meeting with. And I immediately knew as well that it was no coincidence that on the same morning, I had, for all intents and purposes, been yanked from regular duty. I tried my best to fight off my mounting anger and panic, but it felt like I was being sucked down into a gigantic whirlpool and I couldn't breathe anymore. "You can't d—"

"Shut up, Riggs!" growled Murphy in a low voice as he leaned over the desktop. "Believe it or not, I am trying to save your sorry ass." He straightened back up in his chair. "Now, go to Robbery-Homicide, find Murtaugh, make nicey-nice with him and don't get into trouble." He sighed deeply. "Basically… don't be yourself."

And with that, he grabbed his pen and started scribbling on an open file in front of him and I knew I had been dismissed. Resisting the urge to kick something, I rose to my feet and went out of the office, running right into the waiting figure of Dr. Woods. Looking up, she gave me one of those patronizing smiles that shrinks all seem to have. "Hello, Sergeant Riggs. How have you been doing?"

I didn't bother even trying to return the smile. "I'm peachy, Doc, just peachy." My eyes shifted down to the file she was carrying, but she quickly pressed it up close to her chest, her expression tightening. "Well, my door is always open, Sergeant, if you ever want to talk about anything… anything at all."

Turning on my heel, I walked past her without comment and headed back to my division to gather up my stuff. It would be a cold day in hell before she ever saw me willingly darken her door. I'd rather eat the bullet.

December 16; 9:01am

I am not a man that is quick to anger. Despite the stress of my job as a homicide detective, I've managed to maintain an even keel on my emotions in most situations – a fact that I am quite proud of. But even men like myself have a breaking point, and I had reached it. Blood still boiling, I paced back and forth in the hallway down at Parker Center, waiting impatiently for Captain Murphy to grace me with an audience.

"Hey, Sarg… Murphy can see ya now." I looked up from where I had been staring at the floor to see Detective Jennings standing nearby. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'd hurry if I were you; he's about to head out for a meeting with the Chief."

Just perfect, I muttered under my breath. A meeting with the Chief was usually not something that put Murphy in a good mood, which meant he probably wouldn't be at all happy to hear what I had to talk about. Well, that's just too bad, I thought to myself as I walked into the small office. I was going to say what needed to be said.

Murphy was still on the phone, but he quickly glanced up, motioning for me to come in. A brief look flickered in his eyes and I could see that he knew why I was there. And I could also tell he didn't care. Hanging up the phone, he immediately held one hand out, palm facing me in a shushing gesture. "Murtaugh, I don't want to hear it."

"Well, that's too bad, Captain," I said in a hard voice, "because we ARE going to talk and right now."

Murphy looked startled by my unusual display of insubordination. After another long beat, he sighed heavily and waved his hand. "Sit down, Roger."

Shutting the door behind me, I took the chair across from Murphy and launched immediately into my tirade. "Look Captain, it's bad enough that I have to babysit a cop from Narco who doesn't have a clue on how to work a murder investigation, but then on top of that, you're gonna saddle me with – with HIM?" By this point, Martin Riggs' reputation within the LAPD was well established – and it wasn't a pretty one. I couldn't say that I actually knew a thing about the man… except for the fact that he seemed to draw firefights to him like honey drew flies and quite frankly that was everything I needed to know. After all the hard work that I had invested in my career, I had no plans to get caught in his cross-hairs.

Shuffling through the paperwork on his desk, the captain just made an aggravated noise deep in his throat. "I'm sure he will be an asset on your case. Riggs is a very gifted detective – the best in his division."

"Really? The best at what? Pissing everyone off?" I shifted in my seat, both my ass and my pride still hurting from the smack down that Riggs had delivered to me in the middle of the squad room. I saw the edges of Murphy's mouth turn inward in a sorry attempt to hide his smile and I knew that somehow, he had already heard about what happened. How nice to know I could provide the day's entertainment for everybody. His eyes suddenly turning serious, Captain Murphy pulled a file out of the pile and handed it over for me to take. A deep scowl still etched across my face, I opened it up to see that it contained Riggs' jacket. I started glancing through it. Despite his problems, even I had to admit he was obviously talented – considering how quickly he moved up through the ranks from rookie patrol officer to Narcotics detective. And although there were a hell of a lot of reprimands, they were balanced out by a hell of a lot of commendations too. "Hmm… ex-military…" I murmured in surprise as I leafed through the papers.

"See," Captain Murphy said with a big smile, "you already have something in common."

I just grumbled again. Normally Murphy's statement would be true. As an old Army grunt, yeah, I usually did feel some type of affinity for others who served, but somehow, I had the feeling that that just wasn't going to be the case this time. Again though, I had to admit his military record was stellar with another quick move up the ranks, having been snatched up by Special Forces almost immediately. My eyes narrowed slightly as my finger stopped at a spot. Phoenix Program. I had already been a civilian for quite a while by the time the operation had been initiated, but I still knew about it. Well, at least the rumors that floated around… Black Ops… highly illegal covert operations… assassinations… Knowing the little that I did, I certainly wasn't surprised to see much of his years of service until the program was terminated, redacted. However, the remainder of his career until he left was often filled with blanks and unaccounted for lapses of time. That could only have meant one thing in my mind – that Riggs had continued his association with the CIA after Phoenix – a fact that made an extremely uneasy feeling settle deep in my gut.

"What's a guy with this kind of background doing working in LAPD Narcotics anyway?"

Captain Murphy just shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? Maybe he was ready to stay stateside. All I know is he was honorably discharged… and quite frankly, that's all I need to know."

Closing the file, I slid it back over to Murphy. If he had hoped that showing this to me would make me feel better about this assignment, he was very wrong. In fact, the little that I did know about Riggs at this point made me more apprehensive than ever. No way could I trust this guy. I gave another shake of my head. "I don't want to work with him. Why do I have to have a dope cop come along for the ride anyway? He doesn't want to be here anymore than I want him here." Maybe if I could convince Murphy how idiotic this whole special project was, I could get out of this. But the captain just gave me that big grin, that grin I hated because it usually spelled nothing but trouble for me. Shrugging his broad shoulders again, his hands splayed out.

"LAPD needs to be one big happy family with every department willing to help the other. This is a special assignment straight from the top and we are going to do our part to foster open lines of communication between Narcotics and Homicide. Who better to do that, then the two best detectives in those divisions?"

"Uh, uh," I murmured, the words BULLSHIT screaming in my brain. "Seems to me, you'd want your two best detectives to be working in their respective divisions on their own cases. Let someone else do this crap."

"No, it's best for you two to handle this. Trust me."

"Hmmm… I still find it strange that he was the one picked to head this up with me." I stared at Murphy intently. "I heard he's right on the edge of being bounced out on psych disability."

The grin that was on the captain's face quickly slid into a hard frown as he met my stare with his own. "Really? And who told you that?" His voice was casual but all the same, there was no mistaking the sharp edge that accompanied it.

"Well…" I shifted in my chair awkwardly. Burke's name had been at the tip of my tongue but the look on Murphy's face caused me to quickly bite it back. "…oh, ya know… just squad room scuttlebutt."

"Hmmm…. squad room scuttlebutt, eh?" Murphy's fingers drummed rapidly on top of Riggs' file as he continued to stare me down. "Here's an idea. Don't listen to gossip and just watch the man do his job." He gave a tight smile. "And you just let me know if you think he really needs to be slapped with a 5150."

"So I was right," I said with a sigh. "I AM a babysitter."

"No, Murtaugh, you are a police detective. I suggest you get out of my office, go get your new partner and start doing some fucking work." He slipped Riggs' folder back into the pile cluttering his desk. "Look, I've known Riggs for a long time and I know his approach is unorthodox, but I also wasn't kidding when I said he is one of the best." Murphy paused for a moment, looking as if he had something else to say but was unsure about continuing. He finally gave a shake of his head. "It's just that Riggs has had… well, he's had some personal setbacks. I want to keep him on if I can." The captain fixed me with a hard gaze. "So, just work with him and tell me how it goes." He glanced at his watch. "Now, get out of my office. You two should have started half an hour ago."

December 16; 9:43am

I sat back at the edge of the desk, watching the other detectives milling about the squad room. They were making a point of avoiding me but I could still catch them throwing furtive sidelong glances in my direction. I just glared back as I tucked a fresh cigarette into the corner of my mouth. Fucking homicide detectives…. They seem to think they are the cream of the crop for reasons I cannot fathom. I mean, what exactly is so special about what they do? They are called into a case once there is a dead body… how exciting…

I'd love to see just one of these shit-heads working in my division – busting into heavily armed crack houses, working undercover for weeks on end, living among the bottom-feeders without any backup, conducting covert drug deals with a semi-automatic pressed into your back the whole time… I almost laughed at the thought of it My smoke finished, I crushed the butt against the desktop, then tossed it into a nearby trashcan. Glanced at my watch. Nearly an hour had passed since I had shown up here to meet Murtaugh – a wasted hour of my life that I could have spent finishing the set-up on that drug deal I had been working for months. But no, the upper brass thought – THIS – would be a better use of my time. Idiots… Already bored out of my mind, I started fiddling with the rubber band again, waiting for Murtaugh to reappear. I knew, of course, that he had gone straight to Captain Murphy's office to complain about me – so much for making nicey-nice. But, shit… just out of the blue, coming after me like that, what did he expect? It wasn't like I knew who he was. All I knew was that some bozo was trying to take me down and I can't help it if my training and survival reflexes kick automatically into gear, now can I?

Thinking back onto my conversation with the captain earlier this morning, I wondered briefly if maybe this would be the final straw for Murphy, but then quickly dismissed the thought. Nah…. At worse all they'll do is drop me from this ridiculous assignment and send me back to Narcotics – an outcome that I was desperately hoping would happen. If only Murtaugh could somehow convince the captain to do that exact thing. Even on a good day, I didn't have the patience for this type of bullshit – and I never had good days anymore.

I looked up at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps to see Murtaugh heading back into the squad room. The look on his face made me groan inwardly. That was not the look of a man who had managed to get either of us extricated from this shit detail. Stomping by me, he barely paused as he looked over in my direction. "I just have a few things to get together at my desk and we can get going."

Sighing, I rose to my feet, grabbed my knapsack from the floor and threw it over my shoulder. Instead of following Murtaugh to his desk, I moved over to the exit and leaning against the door jam, lit another cigarette and waited for my crappy day to get even worse.