hope this fill is adequate. we need more fills! :D
_

Travis glanced across his messy workspace at his partner, who was squinting in the dim lighting of the bullpen. He observed Wes for a minute, watching him rub circles into his temples and shut his eyes every few minutes.

It was almost time to go home-maybe five minutes-so Travis started to clean up his files for the day. Wes reached forward and sanitized his hands before joining him. His narrowed eyes just got squintier when a couple officers on their way out the door walked by chatting loudly.

Fumbling for an excuse to help Wes out (the douche obviously had a headache. What if he had to puke on his way home and couldn't pull over and then he ruined his car and would be in a disgusting mood for the rest of eternity and… and yeah. He was trying to help him out), he remembered that Wes had driven him in today. He'd demand to drive and take Wes home before he wrecked his car.

His partner grabbed his bag and started towards the door, so Travis quickly picked up his own jacket, Wes' jacket, and the guy's keys—another sign that something was totally wrong with him. They got out to the parking lot and, with keys in hand, Travis ran ahead of Wes and hopped in the driver's side.

"Get out of there, asshole. I'm driving," Ohhhh, Wes was using his 'do not fuck with me or I swear this time I will shoot you' voice (which totally didn't work, actually, but he hadn't seemed to pick that up yet).

"No can do, buddy, I got the keys. Keys mean I drive," Travis smiled smugly at the blonde and gestured to the other door. To his surprise, that was all he had to say and Wes was hopping in with a massive sigh. He leaned his head against the glass of the window and mumbled about cabbage patch bitches but otherwise didn't make a fuss.

Travis made a worried face at Wes and started the car, pulling onto the highway. He spoke quietly when he finally got up the courage to ask about five minutes from Wes' hotel.

"So are you sick or something? Do you need to go to the doctor?"

Wes moaned quietly and frowned before lifting his head off the glass, "No, it's just a headache. Just want to go to bed, and then I'll be fine."

Travis didn't really think that was true, but pulled into the hotel's lot and got out. Wes hadn't seemed to have noticed they'd stopped, and almost fell out of the car when Travis opened his door. Luckily, he caught him and helped him out, though Wes was adamant he was just tired and started towards the door without his stuff.

Watching him walk off in the dark, the brunette made a decision and locked the car, following his partner into the lobby and grabbing his elbow.

"Come on, princess, I'll take you to your tower," and again, Wes really didn't seem to care, only arguing on principle—and mildly at that.

When they got up to his room Travis unlocked the door and let him walk in first, shutting the door behind them both. The therapy they'd been going to for the last 2 months was actually helping them with their friendly relationship and he didn't feel unwelcome or out of place in Wes' rooms anymore. Wes raised an eyebrow at him but continued on to his room. When he started to take off the jacket that wasn't there, Travis knew that Wes was actually really out of it. He helped him out of the tie (the knot seemed a little tricky to his friend at the moment) then the buttons on his shirt.

If it weren't for the therapy, Travis probably would never have done this, instead letting his cold partner drive home alone and probably pass out at the wheel or somewhere else. He felt good about helping his friend out when he needed it and finally helped the poor guy into bed when he was finally in pajamas.

Just when he was leaving the room, he heard a very, very faint, "Thanks," and smiled back at Wes. He turned out the light and turned back.

"Anytime."