Before reaching the station, as Riggs had requested, the two detectives made a detour to his favorite coffee and donut hangout. Of course, the combination of sugar and caffeine was usually the last thing Roger wanted to fill Riggs up with, but on the off chance that he was still upset about the earlier conversation in the car, he thought it would be a good idea anyway. Hey, whatever it took. Food almost always helped to soothe the beast – even Trish's cooking – and that was going to be very important since Riggs wouldn't be able to rely on cigarettes. Hmph… sometimes Roger wondered if it was worth making him quit or not. Trish of course, thought so, but she didn't have to ride along in a closed vehicle with the man all day. All the same, the pit stop did seem to work as Riggs' earlier subdued temperament had been replaced by an enthusiastic and rapid fire dialogue on finally being back on duty, the joy of being able to aggravate Captain Murphy once again, and putting together a game plan to make life total hell for the IA Department. Roger was fine with the first two, but much to Martin's disappointment, he completely shut down the last idea.

Finally making it to their destination of the Parker Center, Roger slipped into their assigned spot on the upper deck of the garage. As soon as they came to a stop, Riggs quickly opened the door but before he could put one foot out, Roger leaned over, grabbing his unrestrained elbow, pulling him back into the vehicle. "Whoa, there, hang on."

Riggs frowned in confusion. "What? I thought you were eager to get back to work." His frown turned up into one of those charming grins he could suddenly pull out of nowhere. "Come on, man, let's go."

"Yes, I am eager, but first hand it over."

"Hand what over?"

"Your pack of cigarettes."

Riggs' breath exhaled out irritably, his grin starting to retreat as quickly as it had appeared. "Rog, you saw me smoke the whole damn pack on the way here."

"I did," Roger agreed with a nod. "So now you can hand over the other pack that you've got hidden… Where ever it is… jacket pocket, in your boots, under your hat, down your underwear…"

"Oh, for crying out loud…" Riggs gave a frustrated shake of his head. "What are you talking about?"

Roger just continued to silently glower with narrowed eyes, unconvinced by his partner's declaration of innocence. The two men stared at one another until Martin finally was forced to admit defeat. "Fine," he muttered as he reached into his boot, pulling out the new pack he had stashed there earlier. He tossed it at Roger. "You better be glad it WASN'T in my underwear."

"Believe me, I am."

Pissed off that his partner had figured out about his secret stash, Riggs jerked his head towards the outside of the car; scowl firmly entrenched on his face. "Now can we go?"

"Now we can go," Roger answered with a big grin.

Roger was still grinning as they signed in at the building's main desk. He didn't think he had felt this happy standing there since his first time as a new detective all those years ago. It felt good to be back. Riggs felt good to be back as well, but unlike Roger, he was still scowling as he signed in – already fearing for the next time he was going to be hit with a massive nicotine fit and no way to appease it … hmmm… he probably still had a half-smoked pack somewhere in one of his desk drawers. They'd be stale as hell, but they'd still be cigarettes.

Finished with signing in at the main desk, the two of them proceeded to head down the twisting maze that would eventually lead them to the Robbery-Homicide division. As they made their way, Detective Phil Tucker suddenly came around a corner, nearly crashing into them. A surprised smile stretched across his face as he reached out, pumping Roger's hand enthusiastically. "Roger! I didn't know if we were ever going to see you again. Good to have you back!"

"Good to be back," smiled Roger.

Tucker nodded his head. "That is no jive talking," he replied. "Being off the payroll this long, you must have been about out of bread. Well, good to see you back." He disappeared back down the hall, whistling loudly.

"Jive talking? Bread?" Roger threw a confused look towards Riggs. "What in the world is he talking about? Nobody says that anymore."

"Hmmm," Martin muttered as a reply, glancing down the hall where the other detective had disappeared. He looked back at Roger, one eyebrow arched high, before whispering conspiratorially, "Tucker has always been a little… off, if you know what I mean."

His eyes wide, an incredulous expression spread across Roger's face. Staring at the younger detective, it took a minute before he could manage a reply. "No, Riggs, I can't POSSIBLY imagine what you mean." He heaved a dramatic sigh. "I wonder how his partner deals with someone that's a little… off."

If Riggs realized the jab, he didn't take the bait; instead he only gave a shake of his head. "Who knows?"

Roger decided to just put the odd conversation with Tucker aside. Although he was in the Robbery-Homicide Division same as him and Riggs, Tucker worked in the Cold Case Section so Roger didn't know him all that well … maybe he really was a little off.

Turning the corner, they arrived at the sign in desk that led directly to their division. Roberta Hamilton had command over this specific desk, although she didn't look especially happy about it. But then Roberta never looked happy about much of anything. Thin as a rail, straight hair dyed coal black, all she needed was a wart on her nose to make the transformation to a cackling witch complete – not of course that she would ever cackle. That would be far too close to actually laughing. No matter what was happening around her, Roberta's face always held the expression that she had either just stepped into a huge pile of shit or that she was wishing everyone who crossed her path would just drop dead and leave her alone. It was hard to tell which. This affliction, however, had resulted in a permanent glare that even Riggs couldn't match on some days. Everyone in Robbery-Homicide had bets going on about who could make her smile. So far, in all these years, no one had been able to claim the jackpot. She glanced up at them without a word as they signed in. Hell, Roger thought, she probably had never even noticed they had been gone; and even if she had, she certainly wouldn't have cared. He sighed under his breath. Doesn't matter how long you're gone, some things never change… As Riggs scribbled his chicken scratch across the paper, Roberta gave a sniff. "Captain says report to his office ASAP before anything else."

"Ah, okay, Roberta," Roger answered, trying his best to sound friendly. "Thank you very much." Lips pursed upwards into a look of disgust, Roberta just turned back to her computer.

"Jeez," the older detective muttered as they went past her desk and into the next hall, "Roberta makes it sound like we're already in trouble."

"Probably are."

"How? We just got back on duty!"

Still thinking of his nearby cigarettes, Riggs glanced over with a distracted look before answering, "Come on, Rog… with Captain Murphy, anything's possible…"

Roger gave a small shake of his head. "Some things never change," he said with a low sigh. Oh, well, he thought to himself … If Murphy was yelling at him, at least it meant he was back on the force. Not even the thought of a possible ass-chewing from the captain was enough to dampen his mood. After all, even before going back onto active duty, thanks to the crazy Las Vegas happenings, the two had already been on the receiving end of plenty ass-chewings… and Roger was prepared for more. All things considered, however, they had gotten off relatively easy. Netting a huge arms dealer that had eluded everyone for years tended to soften the hearts of the powers-that-be.

They were almost at their commander's office when a figure approached them, arms loaded down with files. Detective Anne Burns, grinned at them, her blond curly hair bouncing around as enthusiastically as her expression. "Riggs! Roger!" Martin gave an open grin at the sight of the detective. Despite her sweet look and disposition, Riggs knew better. Anne was a member of the Gang Unit and having been in Narcotics, Riggs had had a lot of dealings with her over the years; those two divisions often found themselves overlapping and collaborating on the same cases. Realizing they usually operated on the same wavelength, the two worked great together on every case that they had teamed up on. She was very good at what she did, tough as nails and didn't take shit from anyone. One of the few people around that Riggs genuinely liked beyond just a superficial level and she returned the favor. Shuffling the reports around, she freed one of her hands, holding it out. "Slap me some skin, man." Riggs cut a look over to his partner with a bemused tilt to his head, then after a second, brought his palm down on hers, a small smile playing across his features. Roger made no move other than to just stare at her in bewilderment as she added, "Nice to finally see you two back. Damn, Riggs, it was getting boring around here without your antics. Should shake things back up again."

"I aim to please," grinned Riggs.

"Cool, man," she called out over one shoulder as she headed down towards Ballistics. "I can dig it."

Roger remained where he was, standing stock still, his large frame nearly blocking all the hallway as he watched her walk away. "She can dig it? What is going on?" He swiveled his head to face Riggs. "Did some kind of time warp take place while we were gone?"

Trying to adjust the sling that was already irritating the shit out of him, Riggs glanced up at his partner. He gave a shake of his head, lips still pressed together in frustration at his captive arm. "Well, we are in Los Angeles. Weirder things have probably been known to happen."

Brows still furrowed into a perplexed expression, Roger raised a hand and knocked on Murphy's door.

"Come in!" barked a familiar loud voice from the other side. Ah, another thing that never changed. Taking a deep breath, the two detectives exchanged a quick glance to prepare themselves, then opening the door, stepped inside the office. Murphy was at his desk, towering piles of papers spread out in front of him, his message box filled to overflowing, currently ignored phone ringing off the hook, a cup of cold coffee in one hand and the usual grumpy look on his face. An expression that didn't lighten up one bit at the sight of the troublemakers in front of him. "Well, well … if it isn't my two favorite detectives."

"See, I knew you loved us."

"Riggs, I was being sarcastic." Murphy's voice matched his annoyed expression but all the same, there was still a layer of affection there. Murphy would just be loath to admit it to anyone – especially to Riggs and Murtaugh. "It's been nice and quiet around here for a change." His shoulders lowered as he let out a sigh. "Guess that's over now."

"Ah Captain," Riggs smiled, "you wouldn't know what to do without us."

"Oh, I think I could come up with one or two things – hell, I could come up with a hundred." Reaching into his desk drawer, he pulled out their badges, tossing them out to the two detectives who eagerly caught them. "Alright, Starsky and Hutch, here ya go."

Grinning, Riggs looked down at his badge, polishing it up against his shirt tail. "So, which one of us is Starsky and which one is Hutch?"

Scratching his head, Captain Murphy leaned back in his chair, face scrunched up in thought. "Hmmm… I don't know, Riggs. Which one was more of a pain in the ass? I think maybe the dark haired one?" He threw one hand up in the air, eyebrows raising upward in confusion. "I can never remember."

Riggs clipped his shield onto his front jeans pocket. "I think it was Starsky… no maybe Hutch… or maybe they both were… which one was which? Hell, I can't remember either."

One of Roger's hands went up to scratch the back of his head, eyes clouding up in confusion once again. Starsky and Hutch? That old show? What would make the captain mention them? … apparently, Murphy was caught in the same weird 70's time warp as everyone else. What in the world was going on? Oh well, what did it matter? As long as he had been cleared of all wrong doing and was back in the squad room, they could be stuck in the 1770's for all he cared.

"I really don't give a damn what name you use," Murphy continued, "just get out of my office and go start on the mountains of paperwork waiting for you on your desk."

"Ahh, man, paperwork?" Riggs sounded a bit like a petulant six-year-old.

"Yes, Riggs, paperwork. Paperwork you will be doing for a VERY LONG TIME." Murphy's voice grew even louder as his eyes flashed with irritation. "And it's a hell of a lot better than the alternative you were looking at!"

Not wanted to get on the captain's bad side already, Roger patted Martin on his back. "Come on, Riggs, let's go." Swiveling his head over to Murphy, Roger gave an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Captain." Murphy just muttered something under his breath and then grabbed the ringing phone, snarling into the receiver. Roger gently guided Riggs out of the office and into the direction of their squad room, ignoring his partner's grumblings. His hope was to just get them both back to their waiting desks without any further incidents. They rounded the corner, Riggs having quieted down. Ah yes, they were almost there… so far, so good.

However, before they could make their final stop, the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps came up from behind them. They both had to jump out of the way as McCaskey and Chu flew by, barreling down the hall to arrive at the squad room ahead of them. "Shit," grumped Roger loudly. "What in the hell are you both in such a hurry for?"

The two detectives turned in mid-run, slowing down a bit, but they didn't stop. "Sorry, man," Detective McCaskey shouted out as Detective Chu flashed a quick peace sign, yelling, "Peace, dude, it's cool."

The crease between his eyebrows making its appearance once again, Roger just shook his head as he clipped his own badge to the pocket of his dress shirt. Apparently in his absence, everyone had lost their minds. The senior detective's crease deepened into a crevice as they came to the entrance of the squad room. A crowd of people were milling around. "What in the hell is going on?"

"Huh? What?" Riggs looked up from where he had been furtively scanning the interior of the nearby trashcan in hopes of finding a half-smoked cigarette. No luck, of course… Damn, why did everyone have to be on such a health kick all the time now? Boy, he missed the good ole days when smoking was commonplace. You could always find someone to bum a cigarette off if need be. Sighing, Riggs followed the direction of Roger's stare, looking the crowd over for a brief minute. "Hey, maybe it's a welcome back party for us… well, at least for you anyway … But maybe they'll have cake." Riggs' voice turned eager. "I can deal with it if they have cake." The donuts he had eaten on the ride over weren't even close to filling the hole in his stomach.

Shaking his head at the endless pit that was his partner, Roger began to elbow his big frame through the group of detectives, parting them like the Red Sea, Riggs following in his wake. "Come on, people," Roger grumbled. "It's our first day back and I'd like to actually get to work."

The others started turning towards the two detectives as they continued to plow their way through the horde. With all the bodies pressing against them, it was beginning to feel as if they were running a gauntlet. Roger looked even more puzzled than ever by all the commotion. Shit… did they all miss him that much? Personally, he found it hard to believe. Maybe he didn't throw people off kilter quite like his partner and he was well liked; however, he was still senior detective and unit leader. It was his job to help in keeping a firm hand on the other detectives. There were plenty of times when he had to come down hard on someone and they often weren't too happy about it. All the same, everyone seemed glad to see him; in fact, every one of them was grinning from ear to ear as they were patting him on the back, shaking his hand. The only problem being that the grins were beginning to look as if they were all in on a joke except for him. Roger glanced over one shoulder at Riggs, but the younger detective didn't seem to be noticing the attention. His head was down, muttering to himself as he fiddled again with his sling.

Everyone's comments tumbled over on top of each other. Right on, Roger, welcome back… Dude, good to see you… Far out, Rog, glad everything worked out... Oh, man are you are back on the force or am I tripping?... As they continued congratulating him, a sudden realization spread across Roger's face, eyes opening wide in horror. "Oh, no," he mumbled under his breath. "Oh, God, no… oh God, no … no… no…" He kept repeating the words as he forced his way through the rest of the smiling crowd. Finally breaking free, he stumbled out into the squad room to find exactly what he had feared. His eyes fell on the large poster sized picture hanging on the nearby wall. The image of the old photo that Riggs had snagged from him at the beginning of this whole mess - back when they were in his workshop.

The photo from the 70's … The photo where he had been helping Vice … the photo where he was wearing purple striped bell bottoms … the photo where he had on a fur coat … the photo where a purple wide brimmed hat was shoved over his large afro … the photo he should have attacked Riggs for, doing everything possible to get it back from him… the photo he should have burned long ago… Why, oh, why did he have to be such a sentimental ole fool to have kept such a photo?

Everyone was still laughing as Riggs suddenly appeared at his side, slapping his free hand down on Roger's back. The older detective looked over as Riggs gave a grin.

"Riggs…" Roger growled menacingly as Riggs' grin grew even larger.

"I told you that that photo was going to come in handy one day."

"I can't believe you, you son of a bitch." Roger's eyes were sharp as daggers.

Riggs chewed on the insides of his cheeks, but he still couldn't stop laughing. "Ah, Rog, you're such a cool cat, I just had to let everyone else know."

Scowl still on his face, Roger threw himself down into his chair. Looked back over at the poster for a long moment then back at his partner and then back again to the photo. Despite himself, Roger suddenly found his mouth pulling up into a smile. Leaning back, he hooked his hands behind his head, sighing as he stared up at the ceiling. He finally gave a shake of his head and then started to join in with everyone's laughter. There wasn't much else he could do and besides he should have known. What else did he expect from Riggs? After all some things never changed.

THE END