Nobody came into The Pitstop before seven at night, so the sound of the door opening at quarter past five made Hunter look up from his prep work.

"Isn't it a bit early for a night cap, Officer?" Hunter smiled as Fitz approached the bar.

"It's three AM somewhere," Fitz smiled back.

"I just happen to have some coffee brewing, would you like a cup?"

"Make it Irish. I'm off duty."

"You got it," Hunter said, pouring solid shots of Jameson and Baileys into the mug. "So I take it this isn't a visit to inform me that LaTrice's attacker was caught."

"Negative. This is purely a social call."

"Is that right?" Hunter asked, pouring himself an Irish coffee much stronger than Fitz's.

"I hope that's allowed. I mean, sure, we met pretty awkwardly, but... "

"It's not that. It's just... " Hunter took a long swig of his Irish coffee. "I'm probably not the guy you'd want to get social with."

"Aren't you? Let's see... you're pretty fucking cute... "

"Shut up."

"You seem a pretty stand up guy. Most people wouldn't have done what you did for that girl."

"I'm not most people."

"My point exactly. Look, you can tell me I'm way the fuck out of line here, but I just think that if you'd let me take you out some time... "

"I'm positive," Hunter blurted out, immediately turning red.

"Ah. Okay," Fitz said, taking a sip out of his coffee. "And?"

"What the fuck do you mean ‘and'?"

"Does being positive mean that you're also an asshole? That you're prone to run up my credit?"

"Um... no," Hunter said completely taken aback.

"Does being positive mean that you have less of a capacity to love? Or that you kick puppies?"

"No," Hunter chuckled.

"Well good, cuz that describes probably half the guys I've dated and they're all negative. I get that some ignorant assholes in your past may have... "

"It's just... when they find out... most people... "

Fitz kissed Hunter suddenly. Hunter melted in it and kept his eyes closed as their lips parted.

"I'm not most people," Fitz said, his lips still lingering close to Hunter's. "So why don't you give me the fucking time of day."

Charlie came bursting in, nearly knocking Fitz out of his stool as he approached the bar.

"Hunter!" Charlie said, nearly breathless from running. "Were you working last night?"

"Yeah. Why? What's up? Are you ok?"

"It's Eddy... she's missing. Her phone's going straight to voicemail and she missed work today for no reason. Her assistant said the last thing on her agenda was meeting someone here last night."

"I didn't see her... "

"I did!" said Tristan, as he came up from the basement with a crate of booze. "She was talking with some chick with awful bleached blond hair."

"Did you get her name? Did they leave together?"

"I barely had time to run her card for her drinks," Tristan said. "SOMEbody ," he added, with a glare to Hunter. "Left me to fend for myself all night."

"Do you remember what she had to drink?" Hunter asked, rushing over to the pouch with the credit slips.

"Yeah, let me see... it was whiskey and... gin and tonic. I remember, cuz I was all, ‘Girl, if you wanna impress Eddy, you gotta get Jameson Black Label, she bougee as hell' but she was all ‘nah, just give me well whiskey and well gin' and I was all, Oof. This is NOT gonna last."

"Monica Wilson." Hunter said, finding the credit slip.

"Omigod, Tristan, Hunter, you're amazing!" Charlie said, dialing Troy, Eddy's assistant.

"Let's all take a second," said Fitz. "Could it be possible that she just took off?"

"Not without telling Charlie," Hunter said.

"Monica Wilson is one of Eddy's clients," Charlie said, getting off the phone with Troy. "But that's not who she was supposed to meet last night."

"Who are you calling?" asked Hunter as Charlie picked up his phone again.

"This Monica chick's office."

"Whoa, whoa," said Fitz. "If you're absolutely sure that this could be a missing persons case, you have to alert the police. Give us her number, let us investigate. You could muck things up."

"Who the fuck is this?" asked Charlie, waiting for the answer on the other end.

"This is Fitz."

"I'm a cop."

"Are you on duty?" Charlie asked.

"No, but... "

"Then fuck off. She's my sister." Someone on the other end picked up. "Hello. Hi, I was wondering if I could speak to Monica Wilson. I'm calling about her project with Edwina Parker. Uh huh... " Everyone else watched as Charlie listened to the person on the other end. Slowly, his face began to drain of all color.

"What happened?" asked Hunter when Charlie hung up.

"Monica Wilson has taken an indefinite leave of absence from work. She is not to be contacted for any reason." Charlie grew weak in the legs and plopped down on a stool. Tristan poured him a glass of wine.

"All right," said Fitz, slamming the rest of his Irish coffee. "Guess I'm on duty now."

###

Glad to be back for Volume 4! Just joining us? Catch up now:

Volume 1 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 2 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 3 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

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