Clayton is securing the bandage around my wrist, when his pager goes off. He tells me he's all done, before reaching for the small electronic box attached to his hip. He brings it up, allowing him to read what's on the small screen.

"It was a false alarm," he lets me know, as he returns it to his hip. He closes the bag and stands up.

"I don't want to keep coming here as a result of you falling down the stairs. You should tell someone what the stairs are doing to you."

I let out a small cough as I look away from him. He doesn't understand that I can't tell anyone. I know Clayton suspects Roman, but I've never confirmed it so he's never been able to report it himself. I feel slight relief that someone does know, without me having to tell them: Nixon.

Like Clayton, he guessed, but unlike Clayton, he didn't feel any qualms about accusing Roman out loud. It's probably because he doesn't know him personally. Roman has a knack of bringing people under his control so they believe anything they are told by him, and believe he can do no wrong. Clayton, however hard he tries, still sees Roman as his boss and friend.

I am saved from replying when Clayton's pager beeps again. I chuckle.

"You're a popular guy. What is it now?"

"Well, like you said, I've got amazing doctor skills," he says. "Someone's come in with grazed hands."

I let a small smile come to my lips. Nixon kept his word.

"What's suddenly got you looking all happy?" He smirks. It's only then that I realize my smile is bigger than I want it to be. I quickly push it down a size.

"Nothing."

He chuckles.

"No, don't stop, it was nice to see it," he tells me over his shoulder as he walks to the front door. I stand up and follow him. Clayton turns back to me when we get to the door to say goodbye. He reaches forward and pulls me into a hug.

"Thank you for the help with everything," I mumble into his shoulder, my face pressed up against it.

"You're welcome, DeeDee," he responds before pulling back and turning around, missing my grimace at my nickname.

It always reminds me of Roman. The door closes behind Clayton meaning I am now alone again. Most of me is grateful for the peace, but a part of me is lonely and sick of being left by myself. I look around the empty house, wondering how to fill my time. I decide to clean it, wanting to actually do something.

I grab the vacuum as I make my way to the back of the house, choosing to work from the back to the front. One of the first rooms I enter is Roman's office. I look at the small desk in the corner of the room and sigh. It's a mess, stacked high with papers, much like my own desk across the road. Knowing that Roman likes a tidy environment, I steel myself for the long work ahead of sorting out all the papers.

As I work, I go over what Clayton said I should do about Nixon's situation. He said to get evidence of his innocence, but how do I go about finding it? When I was younger Piper and I would always play detective. Mostly it was finding out who stole candy from our stash, so our cases weren't exactly difficult. Solving homicide is a totally different story though, specifically one where I don't have the crime scene or body to gleam evidence from.

I recall everything I know about his case. It happened in New York. His girlfriend, Grace Logan, and unborn child were stabbed thirty nine times. Grace was leaving him. For another man, maybe? I put down the papers in my hands on the side of the desk, and notice a photo. Picking it up, I examine it.

A smile comes onto my face when I see it's a photo from graduation. Roman had his arm around me, with an adoring look on his face. I look him over trying to see what changed. I swallow, trying to get the tears to stay down.

I quickly move on to the other people in the photo. Standing next to me is Piper with a grin on her face. Behind us all is Roman's best man at our wedding, Scott. He has a stupid expression on his face as he jumps up, causing his blond hair to fly wildly around his face. His bright green eyes show the humor that I always remember being there. We haven't seen him since the wedding, partly because he moved away after graduation.

My eyes light up.

He moved to New York, and later became a cop. Excited at getting a lead on where to start, I place the frame upright, before rifling through the mess on the rest of the desk. I hope that Roman kept Scott's contact details up to date.

I finally find Roman's contacts, and open it to a random page, before finding the letter R for Robinson. I flick through the pages, holding my breath. If I can't find his contact details I'm back to square one.

Reese. Reynolds. Robinson.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see his name. I look over his details and find his mobile number. I pull out my phone and key in the digits before bringing it up to my ear. It takes three rings before they stop and Scott's familiar voice answers.

"Hello?" he asks.

"Scott? It's Aphrodite," I greet.

"Oh, wow, hi! How are you and Roman? Long time no see."

"Good, still together," I respond, leaving out whether we are happy or not on purpose. "How are you?"

"I'm great, engaged, and loving my job as a cop."

I bite my lip feeling bad for not having a better reason to call and for asking so soon after he's answered.

"That's kind of why I called. I need your help."

Here you go!

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