A/N: I know I shouldn't post another story, but you should all know that by now I work best when I have 3-4 irons in the fire. This one is based on the implied promiscuity of our grieving boy from Bama.

Rated T:

LaSalle was late Agent, Sonja Percy, groaned as she sat in her car in front of the warehouse the two of them were supposed to infiltrate. She'd already tried calling his cell four times this morning and was ready to rip his head off. They'd been working this sting for months waiting for the suspect to make just the right move and now that he had LaSalle was nowhere to be found.

"Pride, where the hell is LaSalle? He's supposed to be here backin' me up!"

"I'm having Patton put a trace on his cell right now." Pride returned via the Bluetooth. "I'm almost there, just hang tight."

Dwayne Pride was worried. Over the last several days, he and Brody had noticed a change in his surrogate son. For the past three nights, Chris had been at the office burning the midnight oil trying to make headway on the case that he and Percy had been working. If Pride had to guess, he'd say that Chris hadn't slept in just as many days. The overabundant amount of energy that he'd been displaying lately was reason for concern, given the agent's family history. He'd seen Chris like this before when he was all worked up over something but usually it took care of itself.

But the fact that his number one had not shown up for work and was currently off the grid well that was an entirely different matter and it scared the hell out of him. For weeks, Pride purposely ignored the reappearance of three day old pants and backroom gossip that his agent had started down a destructive path that included late nights with several different women. It wasn't Pride's business how Christopher chose to spend his off time unless it started to affect the younger man's work which hadn't until now.

Meredith Brody reached into her pocket removed the spare key to LaSalle's house. The fact that he failed to show up for the sting operation with Percy had her mind on overload. Her partner, beloved Boy from Bama, just wouldn't up and decide not to show up for work and not tell anybody. That's not how he was made.

Entering the house, she took her time surveying the living room. Everything seemed to be in place. From there she moved to the kitchen and then the bedroom.

The bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, in days but it was hard to tell. Maybe he'd just gotten up early and actually took the time to make it. Maybe, but the rest of the house just looked too neat. Not that LaSalle was a slob by any means, but it was the way things had been organized. Everything said obsessive manner. Chris' shoes had all be taken out of the wardrobe and were arranged by color, size and occasion, something that he would never do if not given encouragement.

Chris LaSalle definitely wasn't the OCD type but at times his older brother Cade was. Hmm…had Cade possibly gone on a cleaning spree again? She was certain though that Cade was still in Alabama allowing his younger sibling some space to grieve over his former girlfriend, Savannah Kelly.

Moving into the bathroom, Brody began to scour the medicine cabinet. Nothing out of the usual, shaving cream, deodorant, antacid, Advil, a couple of unfinished antibiotics, allergy meds, and an untouched prescription for a sleep aid. Closing the door to the cabinet, Brody looked straight into the mirror. "Ok, LaSalle where the hell are you?"

The theme song from Rescue Me was playing in Chris LaSalle's head and boy tell you what; The Von Bondies were giving a stellar performance. Only LaSalle wasn't a fan. How that song got stuck in his head was a mystery. Speaking of his head it felt like someone had repeatedly taken a crow bar to it.

The morning sun, streaming in the window didn't help matters any. Even with his eyes still closed it managed to intensify his migraine size of a headache. Giving up, he opened his eyes to a haze.

Something definitely wasn't right. In fact, he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Looking around he could barely comprehend his whereabouts. Fewer things terrified him more than waking up in unfamiliar territory. Sitting up, he felt a rush to his head, a sensation of vertigo that made him close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. For a moment he actually thought he might be sick.

Tossing the covers back, he realized he was in commando mode. That's right, buck naked in a hotel room with no memory of how he had gotten there. Well that was awesome. He supposed next a woman he'd never met before would strolling out of the bathroom. When that didn't happen he pushed to his feet to the floor and walked over to the dresser to retrieve his phone. For some unknown reason it was turned off. Four missed calls from Percy, nice. He was supposed to meet her today for something but couldn't remember what.

He knew he should be upset by this but he wasn't. The fog that was surrounding his brain seemed to be immune to the correct emotional response. He was still so dang tired and if it weren't for the fact that he was in an unfamiliar place he would crawl right back into that bed and sleep off whatever the hell was causing him to be so out of sorts.

He spotted yesterday's clothes in a heap on the floor and bent over to pick them up. As he did, he felt a rather irritating sensation start to crawl up his left side. It wasn't pain really it was more like a sting. Finding his way to the bathroom, he flipped on the light and began to examine what looked like a perfect set of human teeth marks right below his rib cage embedded in the soft tissue above his hip, turning he noticed the same pattern on his back.

Had someone actually bitten him? Ok, now he was beginning to get worried. What in the hell had happened to him last night? Honestly, he should be able to recall if he had been bitten. But nope, the tight band of pain encircling his head would not let him.

Forfeiting a shower, he dressed quickly and went back over to the dresser to collect his gun, keys, and wallet. As he started to put himself back together, he noticed that his badge was missing.

Damn. It should have been right there with his gun.

After a complete search of the room, it was nowhere to be found. Looking under the bed, he heard the sound of someone push something underneath the door.

It was the receipt for his night stay at The Prince of Arms Hotel. Well at least he knew where he was now. Although the name at the top of receipt disturbed him: Ryan McClain.

It was an alias he had used a few months back when he and Brody had gone undercover together. Why would he come to a hotel and use an alias? The Prince of Arms wasn't a bad hotel by any means, it was just old and like many hotels in New Orleans it needed updating.

Back to the alias… he tried to think of case he might be working but nothing came to mind, not one that needed an alias anyway.

Brody… Partner… Girlfriend or Partner with benefits. He wasn't sure which, could be all of the above at the moment. Whichever it was he needed her help. In the back of his mind he knew he should call Pride, but he couldn't bring himself to explain his predicament. It was too weird, so out of character for him. This seemed like something Cade would have done before he started his treatment.

Cade. A thought occurred to him and he quickly pushed to the back of his mind. Nope, not going there just yet, the odds of both he and Cade suffering from…

This obviously had to be the work of someone who had had something against him. An old case, perhaps? Someone with an axe to grind? Yes, that had it to be it. Anything else would be unacceptable.

He managed to make his way outside and again was attacked by the evil sunlight. Sun glasses ,where were they? He thought groping around at his pockets. In the truck? Now the big question was where the hell was his truck? Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the keys and hit the red alarm button, listening for the beep.

Nothing. Christ, things had just gone from bad to worse. The only bright spot in this whole messed scenario was that he was in the Quarter. He could walk home if he had to.

But damn. Missing badge, missing truck how in the world was he ever going to explain this to Pride? The thought of somehow disappointing his surrogate father started to twist in his gut. He'd never gone off the rails before at least never like this.

Locking his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes and prayed. He was just about to open his eyes when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Christopher?"

It was Pride and Brody was with him. Definitely not the answer he had been looking for when he taken his predicament to the Almighty.

Slowly, he turned around flashing his signature grin. "Hey King, Brody."

Pride's eyes shifted exchanging worried glances with Brody. "Are you ok, Son?"

The times that Dwayne Pride actually called Chris LaSalle son, were few and far between these days, but when he did it usually meant business.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" he quipped still grinning like a guilty fool with something to hide. He would say just about anything right now if he meant he didn't have to tell Pride about his badge and the truck.

This time it was Brody who shifted her eyes toward Pride who raised his eyebrows in response. They'd only been able to find their missing colleague because his phone had suddenly come back online.

"Chris, you've been missing for two days." Brody said growing more and more worried about her partner and best friend.

Two days? How in the hell had he lost two whole days?

A/N II: Could be shippy or not. Maybe just a good ol fashioned mystery for our favorite duo.