Disclaimer I do not own Republic of Doyle. I just love to watch it. All copyright belongs to the original writers and production team. It is shown on Alibi in the UK. No copyright infringement is intended nor should be inferred.

Missing

"Jake Doyle." Lesley smiled softly as he walked up to her. "What are you doing here?" He shrugged his shoulders, ignoring the rest of the bullpen as they went about their work. It was clear no one else was paying him any attention.

"Tinny forgot to pick up her lunch." He held out a brown paper bag. "And I am such a caring and loving uncle I brought her lunch here for her. The advantage for me is getting to see you."

"Well, I have to go." She stepped away. "Unlike you, some of us are working."

"I am working." Jake opened the bag and pulled out an apple. "Working on asking you to have dinner with me."

"Call me later." Lesley smiled before walking out the room leaving Jake to ponder her words and eat Tinny's apple.

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"Des, can you call Jake. He must know." Rose walked around the office while Des immersed himself in the laptop.

"Malachy is fine."

"We don't know that." Rose picked up the phone and dialled her husband's number. "Martin has been around here. That last case was tough and you know there are a million crooks Malachy put in prison that could be on the outside. All that want to get their revenge on Jake and Mal."

"You think?" Des looked up, suddenly worried. "Jake said he was going to see Lesley. Tinny is in work, Kathleen is in the bar and we're here."

"Yes, so who are we not accounting for? Malachy." She swore under her breath as his phone went to voicemail. "I don't care what you have done, or where you are but please just ring me. ASAP." She ended the call. "If he is drunk somewhere, I swear to God."

"Look." Des looked up once more. "Maybe we should call Jake. I mean he may be with Lesley by now. He might be able to help. He would know what to do."

"Yeah." Rose nodded. "Call Jake. Chances are if Mal is in trouble Jake is too."

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He was annoyed. And his head hurt. That was the first two thoughts that came to mind. He opened his eyes gingerly, aware that the room he was in stank of stale alcohol and damp. He pushed that thought from his mind, knowing if he concentrated on it too long he may well vomit.

"Ah." A familiar voice startled him from his thoughts. "He's awake. Well, well. That sure looks like a painful lump you have on your head. I mean the swelling above your right eye, not the fact that your head is in fact a large, ugly, painful lump. One which I am sure a shovel could alter to my satisfaction."

"What do you want, Calhoon?" Mal glared at him. The other man laughed before sitting down in front of him.

"You, Jake and that pretty little cop of yours dancing to my tune. That is before I kill the lot of you."

"Never gonna happen." Malachy glared at the thick set man. "I stopped you once before, I will again."

"I'd like to see how that is gonna happen." Calhoon laughed. "But I gotta hand it to you, Malachy. You have gall. I've got to give you that."

"Have you? Well don't go being too generous. What is this about?"

"You getting what's coming to you."

"And what has that got to do with my granddaughter?"

"Nothing." Calhoon smiled. "It's more what her father thinks of the deal."

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A/N Just an introduction. Worth going on? Please review.