Yessiree… it certainly was a lot more civilized having these banker hours. Roger had been home by 5:30 in the evening and was now currently sitting in his recliner, relaxing with a scotch on the rocks and the newspaper. He stretched back even further in the chair, a slight smile playing at his mouth. So, this is what it felt like to be a civilian. Not bad. Not bad at all.

The kids were all off in various directions that day, just leaving him and Trish together – at least for the time being. He glanced at his watch. Almost time to start helping Trish with dinner and then everyone would be piling back in soon enough, but until then, it was just peace and quiet. Yeah, he could definitely get used to this… Another indication that perhaps retirement wouldn't be such a bad thing after all... and retirement would also have the added benefit of making Trish very happy – always an important part of a marriage. Speaking of his wife, Roger suddenly looked up from the newspaper to find her leaning against the living room's door frame, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. Shit… what did I do wrong this time? Roger quickly scanned his memory, desperately trying to come up with all the relevant anniversaries and birthdays but nothing came to mind as to something he might have overlooked for this particular month. He had taken the trash out that morning, fed Burbank, took Carrie to school … hell, before heading off to work, he even had helped with cleaning the kitchen after breakfast… His mind was a blank on what might be causing the frown that was entrenched on Trish's beautiful face. He gave her a big grin. "Hi Honey, what's up?" His voice was as sweet as sugar in hopes of countering whatever his wife was about to throw at him.

Trish's frown only grew more irritable. Hmmm… unfortunately it looked like his plan wasn't going to work; but then it rarely did. She straightened up, arms still crossed. "The question is what's up with your partner?"

Roger heaved an inward sigh of relief. Oh okay, it was his wayward partner in trouble again. That was good news as he was getting too damn old to sleep on the couch anymore after having pissed off Trish. His poor back would hurt for days after one of those nights. "Riggs?" He gave a confused shake of his head. "What do you mean?"

"I just checked our phone. Apparently, Martin called earlier while I was out and left a message cancelling for tonight." The frown suddenly disappeared, and a worried look replaced it. "I tried to call him back a minute ago, but he didn't answer. I just hope he's okay."

Roger's eyes opened wide in surprise as he set the newspaper aside. "What?! He bailed on dinner again? I can't believe this!" His voice turned into a low growl, one hand curling up into a fist. "I am gonna wring his scrawny neck … he swore he'd come tonight." Roger focused his gaze back to Trish. "What did he say on the phone?" Roger was still furious but at the sound of concern now in his wife's voice, he managed to lower his anger down a notch. "Any details in his message?"

"Well, he said he was feeling sick, that he had a cough and a sore throat... maybe when I called back he was sleeping."

Roger snorted. "Yeah, right." His tone left no doubt that he thought that excuse was a load of bullshit. Surely it had something to do with the younger detective's recent bizarre behavior, not a sudden case of the sniffles.

The look of concern on Trish's face grew even stronger. "What? Why do you think he's not telling the truth?"

"Well first off, he was just fine at work today. And second, the guy's got the constitution of a horse. In all the time that we've known Riggs, the only thing I've ever seen him suffer from is a hangover."

Trish frowned deeply again. "Are you saying that's what you think is going on? I mean, he didn't sound like…" Her voice drifted off for a second before continuing. "He just sounded really tired." Of course, they both knew that was unusual for Martin as well. Most of the time, the man acted as if he didn't have an off button.

"No, no I don't think that… I mean, I don't think so…" Roger shook his head. "Oh hell, I guess anything's possible with that guy." His breath blew out in a loud sigh. You rarely knew what was going on with his partner. "In other words, I don't know anything…"

"Roger, maybe he really is just sick. Certainly, it has to happen, even to Martin."

"I guess…" Roger muttered, his gaze falling to the carpet as his mind searched over the last couple of months. "But I don't think so. If he was really feeling sick instead of just trying to worm his way out of tonight, don't you think he would have called my cell? Not the house phone? He knew if he called the house phone, he had a better chance of being able to just leave a message instead of actually talking to one of us. I think it's some kind of excuse. I just don't know why." He looked back up at his wife with a shrug. "He's been acting strange… even for Riggs…." His eyes slightly widened. "And believe me, as you know, that's a scary thing to imagine."

Stepping into the living room, Trish sat down on the couch, facing her husband. "Strange how?"

"Kinda hard to explain… It's just … Well, Riggs is always as focused as a laser no matter what he's doing but that sure hasn't been the case lately. These days, he just seems either awfully distracted or…" he hitched a shoulder upward, "… or highly pissed off. Of course, I'm used to the pissed off part, but the other … It's nothing I've seen before and just not something I was expecting… especially after finally getting back on the force. He loves the job, I just thought he'd be more enthused... even if we're just doing paperwork."

"Did something happen in Las Vegas that might have upset him?"

"No…" Roger shook his head. "I can't imagine anything that happened there that might have set him off. In fact, other than getting shot, I'd say he probably rather enjoyed himself."

Riggs always did have a very different idea of "fun" compared to Roger's.

"Did something happen at work?"

"No … not that I know of."

Trish looked unconvinced.

"I swear, honey." Roger shrugged again. "What could have possibly happened? It's not like we're even working on a case. All we're doing is sitting at our desk, filling out forms in triplicate, getting carpal tunnel syndrome and numb asses while having to listen to Murphy bitch about the new recruits and his acid reflux." Roger paused a moment, deep in thought, before finally continuing. "When Riggs isn't staring out into space, he's biting everyone's head off even more than normal, but I figured it was because he's on desk duty. When Riggs isn't on the streets, he's even more impossible to deal with than ever. You know how he is."

"Maybe so, but he hasn't been over in almost three weeks. Not once. Not even to bring over any laundry."

"Hmmm… well that explains the same shirt he's been wearing all week long." Roger grimaced slightly, although his voice was laughing. "Sure hope he's hit the laundromat to at least clean some underwear."

If his comment had even registered with Trish, she obviously didn't find it funny. "Well, if you don't think that he was actually sick, and nothing is going on at work …" Trish gave a shake of her head. "There has to be something personal going on."

"I can't figure it out… I've thought about all the different things that set him off, but nothing is coming to mind." One of Roger's hands came up to massage the back of his neck, his expression perplexed. "Besides, you know how he is when something like that happens… I mean, yeah, some of it's the same… he gets more temperamental than ever, won't talk about anything and turns into even more of a hermit than usual... but he sure as hell doesn't wander around staring off into space. It's a wonder he's not walking into walls by this point. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I'm telling you, this is a different kind of quiet."

Trish stood back up, hands on her hips as she looked down at her husband. "Well, something must be going on. And you better find out what it is."

"Come on, baby," pleaded Roger. "You know what Riggs is like. He's not going to tell me anything."

Trish gave an overly encouraging smile; but one that showed she meant business. "Oh, honey," she murmured, her own voice now sugar sweet, an obvious ploy to get him to agree with her, "you're a great detective." She patted him on his arm. "I'm sure you'll figure out a way." Turning on her heel, she disappeared back into the study.

Great, just great, Roger thought to himself. Yeah, there is definitely something going on with Riggs alright. The question is what was it? He felt sure now that it wasn't just the fact that they were chained to their desks for the time being. A slight frown twisted his forehead as he thought back to his last conversation with Martin regarding his retirement. He wondered again if Riggs was still upset at the thought of when that time would come. Of course, he hated the thought of somehow leaving his partner and best friend in a lurch, but all the same, he didn't know how much longer he could hold out before Trish demanded he retire. God knows, she had put up with a lot over the years.

After bringing it up, Riggs, of course, had then quickly acted like it was no big deal, that everything was fine, that it didn't bother him… but over their time together, Roger had realized Riggs acted that way with pretty much everything … whether it was really the truth or not. Whatever it was, he knew of course that his chances of dragging it out of his partner were close to zero percent; and his chances of Trish bothering him until he had an answer were close to one hundred percent. God, why did Trish have to be so damn fond of his partner? "I think I'm gonna need another drink before I can handle this," he muttered under his breath and then got up to make one.