REX HILTS + JEREMIAH RIGGS
a much needed drink on company time
[BACKDATED] to after the Sycamore case | SDPD Station | PG
Cases revolving around someone’s child, no matter their age, were always tough. Riggs desperately held out hope that Adam would be found alive, even though every fiber of his being was telling him to listen to the logical part of his brain. This probably stemmed from all the instances during his time as an agent that it fell on his shoulders to inform the families of their losses. Being the bearer of good news hadn’t been a regular occurrence.
It was just simply the world he lived in and the life he decided to lead when he chose this profession. Riggs hoped that returning home would cut down on cases like these. Deep down, a part of him was relieved when he found an excuse to retire from the Bureau. Toward the end, he found his views of humanity becoming jaded, and losing his altruistic heart wasn’t something he was comfortable with.
Honestly, he should have known better than to believe he’d be able to escape it completely. No town, not even his, was safe from horrific headlines.
Sighing as he downed the rest of his coffee and stared blankly at the paperwork on his desk, he shook all of those thoughts from his head. It was late, maybe it was time to call it a night. There really wasn’t anything else he could do at that moment.
Then, the real reason Riggs’ remained at the station long after everyone else had gone home walked through the door. “Hey, Boss.”
Rex had just finished another patrol around town and the outskirts. He’d been taking a lot of them lately, trying to keep busy and stay out of the office as much as he could. If he didn’t keep busy, his thoughts went back to finding the kid, to the family’s cries, to the Coroner having to pull the body out of the gem mine. It wasn’t like it was the first time; but those types of cases never got easier.
When he was sure that everyone would likely be gone from the station he finally came back. Only he wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t just one of the nightshift rookies hiding out from doing any active work.
Hearing the other man’s Hey, Boss made him smile faintly. “You know, there isn’t some unspoken contest on who spends the most time at the station,” he told Riggs teasingly as he approached his deputy’s desk. He was one to talk - having spent more time working the past few days than necessary. Rex took his hat off and gingerly set it down on the desk across from where Riggs’, sitting on the edge and letting out a slow sigh.
“Catching up on paperwork?” he asked curiously, giving his own office and the terrible stack that had crept up higher the past few days a glance.
“As far as you know,” Riggs replied with a hint of a smile as he leaned back in his seat- stretching his arms above his head. “There could be a station wide pool going on to see who can rack up the most time. Maybe I’m just here to win the pot.”
The past few days had taken a toll on all of them, that much was apparent from the somber atmosphere, and he was nothing if not a worrier. That seemingly eternal optimism did have its limits, after all and it was that worrying that caused him to hang back and wait for Rex to finally roll into the office.
“I finished my paperwork hours ago,” he replied with a nod to the neat stack on the opposite end of his desk. “This may or may not be from your desk.”
Riggs liked to give his boss a hard time on occasion about the amount of writing he did on his behalf, but honestly? He really didn’t mind that much and this time? The circumstances called for his help without having to be asked first.
“If there’s a trophy involved I’m gonna fight ya tooth and nail for it,” Rex replied teasingly with a faint grin. His expression was quick to fade, though. For a moment he considered starting a pot of coffee but he was sure that at some point he needed to sleep, or at least go home and lay in bed for a few hours.
His eyebrows lifted with interest at the mention of paperwork and his desk. “Well, then, I may or may not stop you,” he retorted.
The werewolf paused before reaching up to run his hand through the back of his hair. “Thanks Riggs, you didn’t have to,” he told the other man. Rex wasn’t one to open up, about anything, but knowing Riggs’ time in the Bureau - well, he knew the other man would understand without him having to go into detail. “I woulda gotten to it, I figured if Chief hasn’t been marching his ass down here to ring my neck it could wait a few more days… It’s been a hell of a couple weeks.”
“You can have the trophy. The cash, though? That is mine.” It was good to see Rex smile, even if it was fleeting. The key to keeping your sanity during cases like Adam’s was to try and find little joys along the way. Sometimes it was easier said than done, though.
Making a ‘pfft’ sound, Riggs closed the open file on his desk to move it to the growing pile he’d mentally labeled as ‘Boss: Finished’. “Emphasis on the ‘may not’?” Rex’s disdain for the paperwork that never ceased to pile up on his desk was extremely well known, but as soon as the other man expressed his gratitude, Riggs waved his hand. “Knew you would have, just thought I would give you a bit of a headstart before the Chief decided to make an appearance.”
“Maybe this will buy you a few more days to avoid a neck ringing.” Reaching for the coffee mug, he brought it up to take a drink before remembering he’d already drunk it all. That was probably for the best, like Rex? He should attempt some sort of rest at some point. “It never gets any easier does it? No matter how many cases we deal with like this. It makes for a few hellish weeks every time.”
Rex smirked and gave a nod. “Good call,” he insisted - having not considered the cash option. He wasn’t as bad as the first couple of days after finding Adam; the werewolf had seemed off, not as quick with his wit, making mistakes. He still wasn’t entirely himself but he was getting there.
“Why’d you hear something I didn’t?” he asked jokingly. Wondering, though, if the Chief had said something or hinted at some kind of mock inspection.
The werewolf fell quiet for a few moments and got up off the edge of the desk to wander to his office - grabbing a bottle of whiskey out of the bottom desk drawer. Rex returned just a few seconds later, walking up to Riggs’ desk and taking the empty coffee cup. “I think,” he began to say as he poured some whiskey into the mug, “that if at any point we get used to cases like Adam’s, it’s time for us to go out to pasture.” He handed the mug back to Riggs before pouring some into the one he’d brought from his desk.
“Nah,” he replied, clearly amused. “I just saw the pile and figured if you were that far behind, the chances of the Chief blowing through here were probably getting stacked against you.” No one wanted a surprise inspection, not even a mock one, and honestly? At the rate Riggs was going, by this time tomorrow? Rex wouldn’t have a single file left on his desk.
Watching curiously as the sheriff retreated into his office, Riggs took the opportunity of his absence to rub at his tired eyes. The hours were starting to bleed into one another, and he was sure if it weren’t for the date greeting him every time he unlocked his phone that he wouldn’t even really know what day of the week he was pushing through. He really needed to get it together before Sunday dinner with his family.
It wasn’t as bad as it felt. He was still in relatively good spirits because the alternative was unacceptable. He was just tired.
Arching an eyebrow when Rex returned with the whiskey, he gladly accepted the mug full he was given and raised it up at the other man’s words. “You’re right. Here’s to keeping our humanity throughout, because I’m far too young and pretty to be put to pasture.” Ending with a light quip, because things had decidedly taken a more somber turn, he grinned then tossed the whiskey back.
“Where have you been hiding this,” he asked with a nod toward the bottle.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he snickered, recalling the last time the Chief came by and saw the filing he was behind on. Rex just… wasn’t meant to sit at a desk for hours on end. Some days he actually enjoyed the small break from Seven Devils’ finest causing trouble, but most of the time he’d rather be out and about.
It was a small town, he prided himself on having deputies that were above average with their community presence. Also it kept all the crazies in check. Mostly.
He raised his glass with a nod of respect. Rex grinned from behind the rim of his own coffee cup as he paused to answer, “My bottom desk drawer underneath the procedure manual.” He took a quick drink letting the alcohol warm the back of his throat before swallowing it. Their procedure manual was ridiculously thick, mostly everyone -including the Chief- avoided it unless absolutely necessary.
“For special occasions and really, really rough weeks and full moons,” the werewolf insisted. He cleared his throat gently. “If you buy into that superstition thing..”
“Wouldn’t be the last either,” he teased with his own snicker. Every time the Chief blew into the station, Riggs had to fight the urge to make some popcorn. Between the rookies who didn’t always know which way was up, the kid’s clever quips, and his own antics? There wasn’t ever a dull moment.
Even moments like this one, that were riding the coattails of a tragedy, had their merits. “Hiding it under that monstrosity was a brilliant move.” Riggs certainly wouldn’t touch that thing with a ten foot pole. Even when he first started out, he somehow managed to bribe a now retired deputy to give him the CliffsNotes version. “No one would ever look there, other than maybe me now,” he said with another chuckle.
Giving Rex a knowing look, he downed the rest of his mug and placed it on the desk for a refill. “You have met my mother, right? Or have you forgotten all of the things from Miss Goodblood’s shop hanging about the house?” It was hard not to buy into superstition when your mother was Sydney Riggs.
Honestly, every time the Chief walked through it seemed as though Dallas just-so-happened to be on desk duty. And every time the kid handed the Chief a food-stained report, Rex died a little inside. Then usually made Dallas clean the squad cars out just to keep him busy. “Seems to keep the vultures and every other badge in this place away,” he laughed. “Best keep that a secret though,” the werewolf insisted with a nod - knowing Riggs likely would keep the stashed alcohol a secret. And that he really didn’t need to ask for the other man to do as such.
Rex happily obliged; refilling Riggs’ mug before setting the bottle down once more. His ears damn near perked at the mention of Addison - a faint smirk crossing his lips that was quickly hidden behind his own cup again.
“I try not to notice,” he lied, still smirking as he poured himself another mugfull. Of course he noticed the trinkets, mostly from Addy’s shop - but Rigg’s mother was yet another exception for his distrust in witches. Also she always smelled like fresh pie - and obviously, nobody who smelled like fresh pie could be that bad. “I thought your Mama was gonna take me out back and beat me silly when I knocked over the salt the one night at dinner, though,” he admitted, looking slightly perturbed for a moment as he recalled it.
“Secret’s safe with me, boss,” he replied with a nod of his own. To be honest, Riggs wouldn’t probably give the hidden alcohol another thought until the next time he and Rex shared a late night drink over a particularly difficult case. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a good memory. His attention to detail is what had shaped his career with the Bureau, but he just wasn’t much of a drinker outside of social situations and circumstances like these.
That quickly hidden smirk wasn’t lost on Riggs, but he didn’t comment on it despite his curiosity being piqued.
Lifting his own mug for another drink, he shook his head. He tried not to meddle too much in his mother and sister’s ‘witchy affairs’. A lesson his father taught him early on, it was just best to leave things he didn’t understand well enough alone. Riggs still wasn’t sure if he believed in any of it at all, but they did and that was the important thing.
Falling into a bit of laughter at the recalled memory of the spilled salt, he nearly choked on his whiskey. “That still goes down in the books as one of my favorite Sunday dinners. I think you can thank being the sheriff of this fine town for sparing you from her wooden spoon.”
As much as he hoped they didn’t have reason to share a drink in such a manner so soon, Rex could easily fall into a ritual with Riggs over the late night whiskey.
The other man’s insistence on another drink made him chuckle quietly though he obliged, of course. “Better take it easy now or I’ll be followin’ you home,” he drawled teasingly. He would, probably, regardless - but only to ensure the other man’s safe return. Rex did screw the cap of the bottle back on, though, as if to signify that the refills would stop. He was sure that they could easily toss back a couple more glasses, but they didn’t need to chance the drive home.
He narrowed his eyes, though the look held no malice when Riggs began to laugh. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” Rex muttered sarcastically. Actually, part of him didn’t doubt that Riggs’ mother would take to him with a wooden spoon. A faint grin slipped through the facade though, and he unclipped his sheriff’s badge from his belt. “I knew this thing was good for something,” the werewolf insisted before setting it on the desk.
Standing up he gave a little stretch before taking another drink. Rex was about to turn to go put the bottle back, but he paused and pointed a finger in Riggs’ direction. “Hey, is Lola visiting any time soon?” he asked with a charming smirk that was mostly teasing. Mostly.
“I’ll have you know; I have the tolerance of a man twice my size.” Rex was probably right to cut him off, though. High tolerance aside? Riggs was an incredibly indulgent man and didn’t always know when to stop. It was a trait that bit him in the ass more times than he could count, and yet? He never did seem to learn his ‘lesson’. “Good call, though.”
Those narrowing eyes only served to provoke his laughter further. “I thoroughly enjoyed it, but you should take comfort in the fact that I would enjoy anyone’s misfortune with my mother. Any time it isn’t directed my way is a treat.” Riggs adored his mom, but she was incredibly overbearing at times. The quintessential ‘Mama Bear’ she honestly believed she held motherly authority over anyone who stepped foot inside her house.
Smirking down at Rex’s badge, he swung his feet off the desk and moved to stand in order to stretch himself, but froze with his arms halfway up in the air with a groan when he teased about Lola. “Well, now I’m sober.”
Rex’s eyebrows shot up at the twice my size — Riggs was already a big guy. Still, his brow fell and he smirked somewhat impishly. “Listen, if you want I can arrest you the second you pull out of the parking lot and we’ll make a training video of it,” he teased.
The amusement carried on, as they spoke of Riggs’ mother. “Maybe we should stop putting people in front of the judge and just give ‘em an afternoon with your Mama,” the werewolf joked. It sounded like a damn good idea though…
He let out a genuine laugh and maybe even a flushed a little (from the alcohol, obviously) - but Rex held his hands in the air in surrender quickly. “Just a curiosity,” he insisted. The werewolf paused and casually stepped far enough away from Riggs that he was out of reach, and added: “I can always text her.”
“I swear to drunk, officer I’m not god,” Riggs teased with a mock salute. “I think it would send a better message if I were the one that arrested you for training purposes. You know, to show not even the sheriff is above the law.”
At the further talk of his mother, Riggs couldn’t deny that she would be able to pass judgment with the best of them. The only problem with this scenario? Sydney would not be able to do so without her own biases creeping in. “You’d probably end up having to toss Mama behind bars for questionable methods.” He was joking as well…mostly.
Narrowing his eyes for a moment, Riggs shook all thoughts about Rex and his sister right out of his head with another groan. It was best not to think about all of the possible scenarios or if there was any truth to his boss’s words. What Lola did or didn’t do with her time was her business.
“On that note,” he said- closing the space between himself and Rex to grasp the other man’s shoulder. “Get some beauty sleep, bossman- or else you won’t be texting anyone. You look like hell.” Grinning, he squeezed his hand before letting go to walk towards the door.