He sat alone in the dark room. It was well past midnight and dawn was swift in its approach. The hours seemed to melt away. He knew he really should be in bed, asleep, but try as he might, he just could not bring himself to be tired. More than likely, though, he would soon regret his decision.

It would not be long before Goemon would come knocking at his door. The well-disciplined swordsman believed in both early-rising and hearty breakfasts. Oh yes, Lupin would most definitely regret not getting rest.

And then there would be Jigen, he realized, barely suppressing a groan. If Goemon did not kill him with his outright disturbing amount of cheer, Jigen's dry humor and unhealthy level of sarcasm would surely do the trick.

A heavy sigh escaped the master thief and, leaning forward to lift the nearly empty shot of brand, he made a face. He had not realized the heavy, wooden shutters were drawn carefully over the window - it was much earlier than he had expected.

Downing the alcohol without another thought, he slammed the glass down on the cocktail table and propped his feet up upon it. Settling back, he allowed himself to sink out of sight, quite literally drowning in a sea of soft pillows and seat cushions.

Only a moment or so more passed, though, before a crisp rap jarred him from the peaceful reverie he had fallen into. "Lupin. Breakfast is ready."

Closing his eyes, he remained silent for a few minutes. "Coming," he finally announced, his eyes open once more.

It was only when he had actually stood, however, that his keen hearing detected his faithful friend and partner in crime shift from his attentive vigil and continue on down the hall. Yes; Goemon was a creature of habit, it seemed.

In approximately fifteen minutes, Lupin was downstairs, eating with his two companions. Realizing he looked a bit under the weather from his lack of rest, he hoped speeding through his meal would get him out of the impending inquiry. It seemed he couldn't have been more wrong.

"You're in a hurry," Goemon observed placidly. "Is there something wrong with the soup?"

"The soup is fine," Jigen assured the worried looking man, even as he took a sip. Despite it being served for the fourth morning in a row, the miso soup was well up to par and quite enjoyable. "Lupin here is just worried about his invitation, that's all. Isn't that right?"

Said man nodded absently. The truth of the matter was, he was awaiting contact from the illustrious Fujiko. She had vanished mysteriously about a month ago and the master thief was beginning to worry. After all, the woman was a schemer - while out to make her own fortune, he and his crew ran into her as often as every other mission.

But lately, things had been different and he was beginning to miss her terribly. So much that it showed, even. His work ethics were going down the drain - he would do just about anything to get the job done - and his method was getting a little slip-shoddy - he had just barely been evading Zenigata's handcuffs lately.

It was no secret, the feelings he harbored for her - even she herself knew. That was what made Lupin more surprised than anything; surely his friends must know what was truly ailing him.

And indeed, they did. Not that they would let him know that, though. They were out to make their ringleader forget all about the addiction known as Fujiko. They figured that eventually, even Lupin would forget and move on. They figured wrong. For it seemed the old anecdote was true after all: absence makes the heart all the fonder.

"Lupin!" Jigen half-yelled, startling the man from his thoughts. "Did you hear a word I said?"

"Hmm? Oh, no..." Lupin trailed off, shaking his head to rid himself of the stupor that had overtaken him. "Sorry."

Jigen's face momentarily flickered with something akin to annoyance. "It's okay," he began, gruffly. "Anyway, I said, 'Well you don't have to wait much longer'."

"Oh?" Lupin was not quite sure what they had been talking about before his mind had wandered, so he played along, hoping to look remotely intelligent.

Jigen seemed to buy it, though Goemon shot him a skeptical look. "Yeah. Seems it arrived yesterday, when we were all too busy to check."

Oh. The invitation. Of course. "Well that's good," he fumbled with his words as Goemon produced the object in question.

He reached out to accept it from the swordsman, but another, more slender, deft hand snatched it away before he could do so. Slowly, almost in disbelief, his eyes trailed upwards, their final destination being the face of the intruder.

But he knew who it was even as she chuckled softly and spoke, "I seem to have misplaced mine."

He rose with a start, nearly knocking his chair over. "F-Fujiko!"

She surveyed him with what could only be amusement. "Well, well, well, Lupin. It's been quite some time since I've heard that name from you." Her voice took on a light, comical tone.

"Fuji-cakes," he corrected himself at once. And, as she reached over to lightly smack him, even as she laughed, it felt like old times again - if but only for a moment.

Disclaimer: Maurice LeBlanc and Kazuhiko Kato own the rights to anything having to do with Lupin or Lupin III. I merely own the merchandise and this plot.

A/N: A refreshing break from my usual fandoms of choice. I thought it would be real interesting to use this as a project to keep me going throughout the week of my mid-terms/finals. This will be approximately 3 chapters long (including this prologue) so it shall be completed fairly quickly. I apologize for any OOC-ness. This is my first attempt at a Lupin fic and most likely will be me last. Perhaps in the distant future, if I have the time, I could try another one. We shall have to see. For now though, this will have to make do.

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