The morning air was crisp as Riley strode into the station, already dreading the day. She had a feeling something was coming when Luke had messaged her the night before, asking to meet up early. Sure enough, the moment she saw him leaning against his cruiser, she could sense the tension in the air.

"Morning, Torres," Luke said, his arms crossed, that familiar stern look on his face.

"Morning," she replied cautiously, glancing around as if the answer to his attitude would reveal itself. "What's going on?"

Luke didn't waste any time. "You're on desk duty today."

Riley blinked, taken aback. "What? Why?"

"Don't argue with me on this. If you can't follow simple instructions, then I'm not going to give you any. This is for your own safety."

Riley clenched her fists, trying to suppress the frustration that immediately boiled up. "I'm fine, Luke. I can handle patrol."

Maddox's eyes became impossibly darker as he held firm. "Desk duty. That's an order."

She opened her mouth to argue again but then stopped herself. There was no point. He wasn't going to budge. With a sharp exhale, she gave in. "Fine. Whatever."

As she stormed into the station, fuming, she was greeted by Officer Brett Miller, Julie's training officer, who was already sitting at the front desk. Brett had been on the force for almost five years now, and though she hadn't worked with him much, she knew he was well-liked. He was tall, with a handsome smile and shoulders that had no business looking that good in the stuffy polyester shirt.

"Ah, Torres," Brett greeted her with a grin as she slumped into the chair beside him. "Welcome to desk duty, where the excitement never ends."

"Yeah, thanks," she muttered, still annoyed.

He glanced at her sideways, sensing the tension. "I'm guessing this wasn't exactly your idea."

"Nope. Luke decided I needed a 'break,'" she said, making air quotes.

Brett chuckled. "Classic Maddox." He paused, and said "One second," before abruptly leaving the front desk. A few moments later, he returned, two cups of coffee in hand. Silently, he slid one towards her, as if trying to diffuse a bomb, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

Reluctantly, she took the coffee.

"Thanks," she grumbled, one side of her mouth tilting up.

Before Brett could respond, the door to the station opened, and an old man shuffled in, looking lost and disoriented. He was in his late seventies, wearing a faded letterman jacket that looked like it had seen better days. His eyes were wide with confusion, darting around the station like he wasn't sure where he was.

Brett and Riley immediately stood up. "Sir?" Brett called gently. "Are you okay? Can we help you?"

The man glanced at them, but his face remained blank. "I... " He did a three-sixty. "I don't know. I don't know where I am."

Riley exchanged a concerned look with Brett before they both stepped around the desk. "It's okay, sir. You're safe here. Why don't you come sit down?"

They guided the man to a chair, where he sat down heavily, still looking around as if trying to piece together his surroundings. "I don't remember... I don't know...."

Riley's heart tugged a little at the sight of him. "We're here to help, sir. Don't worry."

Brett made eye contact with Riley, nodded slightly, and left to get the man some water. Riley knelt down in front of him, taking out her notepad. "Sir, can you tell me your name?"

The man started absently at her, and she wondered whether he had heard her at all. Brett arrived back and handed the man a cup of water. Riley cleared her throat.

"Your name, sir."

The man jolted, looking frantically between the two of them. "Its... Miller."

Riley glanced at Brett, and who looked at her, glanced at the name tag on his chest, and looked back to the man.

"Ahem. Your name is Miller?" Brett asked, pointing to his name badge.

The man narrowed his eyes. "No... I don't think that's right."

Riley and Brett exchanged a glance.

Riley sighed. "Let's call you... Frank. Does that sound good, Frank?"

The man nodded vigorously. "Yes... that does sound good."

For the next hour, Riley and Brett alternated between asking 'Frank' questions about where he came from, and making general conversation. While it had been more interesting than paperwork, Riley was starting to get exasperated. They'd discovered that he liked pizza, and coffee, but not tea. His wife liked tea, but it had to have milk in it. But no name, no address, no contact information.

Brett pulled Riley to the side, a lopsided smile on his face. "I'm officially out of ideas."

"Yeah..." Riley drifted off, staring over Brett's shoulder at 'Frank'. "Wait." She dashed over to the desk, pulled up google, and began to type furiously. Sighing, Brett wandered back over to where 'Frank' was sitting and clapped him on the shoulder before plopping down on the bench beside him.

"Looks like you're gonna be hanging out with us for a bit, Frank."

Before 'Frank' could respond, Riley shouted triumphantly, grabbing a paper from the printer. Grinning, she showed it to Brett.

"Cameron Heights Secondary School, graduating class of '72." She gestured to 'Frank's letterman jacket, with the school name and year embroidered across the back. She pointed to the names at the bottom of the page. "Say hello to Jerry Stevens."

The two of them turned to Frank (Jerry). "Jerry!" Brett exclaimed. The man's head whirled towards them, and Riley grinned.

She turned to Brett. "Alright, I did the hard part. Go figure out his phone number."

Brett grinned and wandered off into the station with a 'yes, ma'am'.

Within ten minutes, Brett returned to Riley with a smile. "His daughter's on her way. She said he's been struggling, but this is the first time he's wandered off like this."

Riley felt a sense of relief wash over her as they waited with Frank (Jerry), offering him water and making small talk, though most of his responses were disjointed. When his daughter arrived, tearfully thanking both Riley and Brett, the weight that had hung over the station seemed to lift a little.

"Thank you," the daughter said, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't found him."

Riley waved it off, but Brett nudged her with his elbow. "It was all Torres here. She's got a knack for this kind of thing."

Riley smiled, the praise feeling unexpectedly good. "Just doing my job."

____________________________________________________________

After the shift ended, Riley and Brett found themselves in the station parking lot, chatting and laughing about some of the crazier things that had happened that day. Brett had a way of making things light, and Riley found herself genuinely enjoying his company.

"Look at that. Did you ever think you would solve your first case on desk duty?" Brett asked, leaning against his car.

Riley shook her head with a grin. "Nope. But hey, at least it wasn't all paperwork."

Brett chuckled. With a wink, he said, "Tell you what. Next time, if you play your cards right, I'll let you have the paperwork."

They shared a laugh, the conversation easy and flowing. Brett was charming, sure, but he was also respectful, and Riley appreciated that about him.

Just as she was about to respond, she caught sight of Luke in the distance. He was standing by his cruiser, arms crossed, his eyes locked on her and Brett. His expression was hard, unreadable, but there was a definite edge to the way he glared at the two of them.

Riley's smile faltered. "Great," she muttered under her breath.

Brett followed her gaze, noticing Luke. "Looks like someone's not happy."

"That's nothing new," she said, her mood instantly shifting. "I should probably get going."

Brett nodded, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Hey, thanks for today. You handled that situation with Frank like a pro."

"Thanks, Miller," she replied.

As she walked toward her car, she couldn't shake the feeling of Luke's eyes on her. He didn't say anything, didn't come over, but his presence alone was enough to stir the tension that had been simmering between them. She clenched her jaw, determined not to let him ruin what had been a surprisingly good day.