She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked around the spacious office. “But this will be my office permanently?”

“Yes.”

“What if Tristan doesn’t want to share the office when he comes back from medical leave?” She was relieved that she would at least have the office for a while before she was forced to work with him.

He shrugged. “There’s no choice. Neither of you can work in the pit. There aren’t enough desks and there’s no privacy. The files you both work on are confidential. He’ll have to suck it up.”

“Who will have to suck what up?” a familiar deep voice asked from behind her, sending a tingling awareness down her spine and making her breath catch.

It was just so wrong that she reacted this way to him, so damn wrong.

*-*-*-*

It felt good to be back, he reflected as he made his way through the station. After almost a month of being away he was more than ready to be back.  He had to admit that he’d been more than a little surprised when Hank called him last night.

All week he’d expected Hank to come over and rip him a new one for allowing his precious daughter to be caught in the rain. When the call came last night, he was prepared to have his ass chewed out. What he hadn’t been prepared for was Hank telling him that he could come back to work on light duty early.

Being stuck in his office most of the time normally wouldn’t have been fine with him, but after a month of cleaning, reorganizing, and Shayne’s  p**n  marathons, he was desperate to get the hell out of the house even if that meant pushing papers for a while. Not that he was really going to listen to Hank. He never had and probably never would. His personnel file wasn’t three inches thick for nothing after all.

He never thought he’d be so happy to ditch his tee shirt and jeans in favor of a shirt and tie, but here he was feeling like he was whole again in his tie, shirt and gun. It felt so good to be back.

As he walked through the station, he half listened to good wishes and welcome backs as he avoided slaps to the shoulder. All he wanted to do was retreat to his office and sit at his desk for a moment. He needed to feel useful again. Too much time on the hands of a man like him was not a good idea after all. With that in mind, he quickened his pace.

He entered the pit and immediately frowned when he saw that his office door was open. Everyone knew that he hated anyone in his office. It had taken a while, but he had everyone here trained not to enter unless they knocked and even then it better be important.

“There’s no choice. Neither of you can work in the pit. There aren’t enough desks and there’s no privacy. The files you both work on are confidential. He’ll have to suck it up.” Tristan heard as he neared his office.

“Who will have to suck what up?” he asked, already having a good idea what they were talking about. He leaned against the doorframe and took in Hank’s guilty expression. He watched as the man ran a hand over his hair. Great, Hank was up to something. There was no mistaking that sign.

His eyes shifted to Marty. She looked defiant. Interesting. He watched her for a moment as she hauled two oversized bags onto the empty desk and placed them next to a box. Then she grabbed the box and bags out of Hank’s hands as the man looked nervously between the two of them.

“Morning, Hank. What’s going on?” Tristan asked casually.

He watched as Hank noticeably swallowed and then forced a smile.

“It’s good to have you back, Tristan.”

“Uh huh, what’s going on?” Tristan looked pointedly at the boxes, forcing himself not to look at the woman that every fiber of him craved.

Hank gestured for Tristan to follow him. “Let’s go and talk in my office about what duties you’re allowed to perform while on light duty.”

Tristan threw one last look at the shit covering the extra desk before he nodded. “Sure.” This should be interesting.

*-*-*-*

Marty kept her back to the men until they left the room. Then her shoulders sagged. She couldn’t remember ever being this nervous before. It was still odd feeling this way around Tristan. He used to be the one person in her life that she felt comfortable around. She could be herself around him and never have to worry about him judging her or expecting anything from her other than for her to be herself.

Now her nerves were rattled just by the mere mention of his name. This was not good. If they were going to work in the same office, she needed to get over this and soon. She frowned in the direction of the door. Her father was so going to pay for not telling her that Tristan was coming back today. He’d led her to believe she’d have several weeks before she’d have to deal with Tristan.

“No f**king way!” Tristan yelled, startling her and making her drop the book she’d been holding. As she knelt down to pick it up, Tristan stormed back into the office.

Without a word, he picked up one of her boxes and hurried out of the room. After a short surprised pause, she followed after him. He dropped the box off in the secretary’s area and stormed back past her to their office.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she muttered as she grabbed the box and returned to the office to find his arms loaded with the rest of her bags.

“Get out,” he snapped.

“No, this is my office, too,” she said, placing her box back on the desk. She reached for the bags in his arms only to have him jerk them away from her.

“Listen, I don’t have time to babysit you. I’m sure the secretaries will play nicely with you and make you feel like a big girl with an important job,” he said mockingly, “but I don’t have time for this.” He headed for the door only to find Hank shutting it behind him.

Hank pinched the bridge of his nose as he gestured towards the small sitting area. “Sit, both of you,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.

With one last glare at each other, they put down their loads and sat down in opposite chairs with Hank sitting in the middle. The older man sat back, regarding them both for a long moment. Tristan and Marty glared at each other over the small coffee table, neither one backing down.

Finally Hank cut through the thick silence. “Here’s the scoop for both of you.” They stopped glaring at each other to glare at Hank.

He looked at Tristan. “Marty has applied for and been hired as the Criminal Forensic Specialist for our region. She will not be acting in her position until after she finishes her thesis and receives her diploma.” When Tristan opened his mouth to argue, Hank held up a hand to stop him. “Which will be very soon. Until then she will be acting as your assistant.”

“I don’t need or want an assistant,” he said through clenched teeth.

Hank shrugged. “Too bad. You’ve got one. She’s also going to be helping with other functions and she will be observing you when you conduct interviews. Also, you’ll let her shadow you on cases. She has experience from an internship that she did with the FBI last year, but she needs to learn how we do things around here. Since you’re my lead detective, you’re going to take her under your wing.”

“No.”

“This isn’t up for discussion, Tristan. With your education and abilities you are the most qualified person in this department to show her the ropes.”