"Has anyone seen my earring?" Rocky stuck his head out of the small room the Taste staff shared as a locker room.

"Didn't you put it in your pocket?" Matt was changing from his chef's jacket to a regular shirt and didn't look up as he buttoned it.

"I had a hole in it and didn't want to lose it." Rocky ducked back into the room and rechecked the wooden cubbyhole he used for storage. "I could have sworn I put it here right on top of my shirt. I couldn't imagine anyone taking it."

"Certainly no one with a modicum of taste," Illya said, ending the sentence with a grin. There was nothing he enjoyed more than teasing his head waiter. "Who else would wear a rhinestone ABBA earring?"

"Okay, Chef, come clean. It was you, wasn't it?" Rocky handed it right back, something he'd never do during business hours. Now, Taste was empty and the time was theirs.

"With the lead pipe in the Billiard Room." Henry's voice was muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"I thought that was Colonel Mustard…" Rand checked his hair in a small mirror. "And he did it with relish."

"Ugh, what a mess." Rocky laughed at that.

"Hey, guys?" Roxanne called from the kitchen. "Are you decent back there?"

"There's a loaded question for you," Illya muttered. "Yes, we are all fully clothed. Decency has been preserved."

She walked in as if prepared to be shocked and visibly relaxed at the sight of them all dressed. "I was wondering if anyone had seen my pen. The shiny one with the beading?"

"The one I bought you in Istanbul?" Rocky asked, his voice dismayed.

"Yes, I put it on the shelf in the bathroom after closing and forgot to pick it when I left. I just went back to get it and it was gone."

"We have all been in here. Maybe Stella or Celeste picked it up."

"No, they both left before I did. They have a double date with Frankie and Johnny."

"Ye gods, the Bobbsey Twins meet the Hardy Boys. I'm thinking a double wedding," Rocky muttered as he rechecked his cubby. "That's just so weird."

Napoleon walked in at that point. "Good evening, gents." He paused to give Roxanne a hug. "And beautiful lady." She laughed and slapped him gently on the chest.

"You old flirt."

"Well, at least old." Illya amended, winking.

"Ha, ha, Kuryakin. Has anyone seen—"

"Not again!" Rocky interrupted. "What are you missing, Mr. S?"

"The morning paper."

"Um… I might have accidently maliciously used it for cleaning windows this morning," Illya said. "Something important?"

Napoleon sighed and smiled. "Not anymore. I'll call Joe back in the morning." He turned to leave. "Hey, were you able to fix my tie tack?"

"Tie tack?" Illya looked confused now.

"The one Rocky gave me. I put it on your desk and it's not there now. I figured you'd fixed it."

"You figured wrong. The only thing I fixed tonight was an over-seasoned piece of veal and a brown sauce."

"Oh… "

"That wasn't my fault," Henry muttered.

"No, Henry, it was mine. I should know by now that I can trust all of you to do your jobs." Illya stretched and rubbed his neck. "And just think in approximately twelve hours, we get to do it all again."

"We must all be insane." Rocky shook his head and abandoned his search. "That's the only explanation."

Illya glanced around the room one last time and shut the lights off. "Get some sleep, everyone."

Napoleon waved good bye as everyone filed out. "That goes for you, too," he said to Illya, catching a hand as the man passed and pulling him close. "You look tired tonight."

"I am. The problem with a popular restaurant is that it's popular. If I had to make one more Veal de la Oscar tonight, I would have screamed."

"Just one question, partner." Napoleon's eyes started to close and his expression grew sultry.

"Yes?"

"Who the hell is Oscar?"

Illya didn't think too much about it until he was showering and reached for his wedding band. It wasn't in the bowl where he usually kept it. "Not me, too."

"What's wrong?" Napoleon was bent over brushing his teeth.

"My wedding ring is missing." He dropped his towel onto the floor and began to search the counter.

"You take it off?" Napoleon seemed genuinely surprised.

"When I'm cooking, yes." Illya ran a hand over Napoleon's back. "It doesn't mean I'm less married, you know."

"Humph." Napoleon tried to sound indignant, difficult with a mouth full of toothpaste. He spit and rinsed his mouth out. "I never take mine off."

"That's because you can't." Illya tenderly kissed Napoleon's knuckle, now swollen with arthritis. Years of bare-fisted fighting had taken its toll on both their hands. "Looks like you're stuck with me." He looked around. "Maybe I put it on my nightstand."

Illya wandered out of the room and Napoleon picked up the towel. "Just once," he muttered and hung it over the towel rack to dry.

"Were you talking to me?" Illya called from his side of the bed.

"No." Napoleon sighed. "Not so anyone would hear."

Illya was slowly whisking butter into a sauce, but he chanced a moment to look up as Matt and Rocky entered. "Morning." At the lack of response, he turned off the burner and lifted the pot from the heat. "Is there something wrong?"

Both men looked at each other and Illya could practically hear the tension. Illya wiped his hands on a cloth and faced them. "Matt?"

"He… he accused me of stealing his things." Matt's eyes were moist and red.

"Rocky?"

"There's no other explanation."

"Why would Matt steal from you? You're married. Fifty, fifty and all that."

"Because nothing else makes sense."

"And that makes no sense at all. Think about it." Neither man made a sound and Illya grimaced. "Okay, but you aren't the only one. Roxanne, Napoleon, me, we're all missing things."

That seemed to startle Matt. "You, cara? What are you missing?"

"My wedding ring. So you see, it's not Matt, Rocky. This is totally out of character for him."

"Has anyone seen my barrette?" Stella looked through the pass-through. "I thought I left it by the cash register, but I can't find it now."

"Which one?"

"The sparkly ABBA one."

"No, don't tell me you lost that!" Rocky's voice cracked. "What is happening?"

Illya's face grew very serious. "I don't know, but I think it's time for a staff meeting."

An hour later found the staff of Taste crowded around a long table. Some of the waiters looked as if they were present in body only. Illya turned on the coffee maker and put a tray of breakfast pastries on table. Once everyone had had a chance to get a cup of coffee and something to eat, he stood at the head and cleared his throat.

"I've known most of you for as long as I've known Taste. You all came highly recommended and are thought of as family."

"But?" Henry asked.

"Things are missing."

"I wasn't going to say anything," muttered one of the waiters. "But I'm missing my watch. You know, the one you let me borrow," he added to Rocky. Rocky's expression grew pained.

"Hands up everyone who is missing something." Illya watched hands go up, some faster than others. He also raised his. "Now anyone who is missing something that was not giving to them by Rocky."

Only Illya's hand remained up and he exchanged a look with Napoleon. "The common link is Rocky, with the exception of you," Napoleon said. "This is getting more and stranger by the moment."

Rocky suddenly became the focus of everyone's attention and he shifted awkwardly. "Why would someone be targeting my stuff?"

"Not your stuff, you."

"What about the pickup you saw?"

"Yeah, you told me you thought it was following you."

"Rocky?" Illya was immediately focused.

"I've seen it a couple of time."

"Here?"

"And outside our place," Rocky murmured and Matt looked terrified.

"No, not you!"

"What?" A newer waiter looked confused.

"Once, we had a waiter abducted and tortured another staff member," Celeste whispered, her face white. "He seemed so nice…"

"Who?" The man looked visibly terrified.

"No one who can hurt anyone else, trust me." Napoleon's voice never revealed for a moment that he'd been the victim. "Twice in one setting? Is that even possible?"

"These are the foothills. They're a breed onto themselves up here." Illya reached over and placed his hand on Rocky's. "The next time you see this vehicle, I want you to tell me or Napoleon."

"What can you do?" Stella hugged her twin.

"More than you realize. Rand, does your cousin still have the anti-theft store in Sutter?"

"He does."

"Call him. We're going to increase security around here. Once bitten, twice shy. No one else is messing with my family."

Napoleon was sitting at the desk, paying bills, when Illya entered. He looked tired and drawn, but satisfied. "I take it that it went well?"

"Let's just say no one is going to get away with anything now that we won't know about." Illya tossed his jacket over the back of a chair and flopped down on the couch. "I hated to have to do that."

"You told all the staff." Napoleon swept everything in a drawer and closed it. He walked stiffly to the couch and joined his partner.

"I did. If the thefts stop, then we will know it's someone on staff, as much as that breaks my heart to admit."

"If they don't." Napoleon reached over to draw Illya to him in a warm embrace.

"Then we will know who it is." Illya was quiet for a moment. "I wish we had done this before Velon grabbed you. It would have given us a faster answer." He lifted Napoleon's hand and then kiss it tenderly. "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"It wasn't your fault, Illya. It was no one's fault. We didn't know." Napoleon turned over Illya's hand, the scar tissue made the palm shiny. He brought it to his mouth and nuzzled it. "No more than I could have prevented this. Things happen the way they are supposed to. We can only go along and do our best." His tongue traced a line across the palm.

"And is that the best you can do?" Illya's expression had shifted from concerned to slightly dreamy, a slight smile softening his lips.

"Should I be like Gomez and nibble my way up your arm?"

"Only if you speak French," Ilya murmured as his mouth found Napoleon's.

It was to both of their credit that neither man reacting with anything more than a slight jump as Rocky came racing through their front door.

"Rocky?" Napoleon watched the waiter dash around the corner and pressed his back to the wall. Illya shook himself free of Napoleon's embrace.

"He's there."

"Who?"

"The guy in the truck."

"Okay, this ends now." Illya's expression was easy to read. "Napoleon, cover me."

His partner nodded as Illya walked out into the parking lot and up to the truck. He watched Illya closely for any change in body language. Illya looked deceivingly calm and relaxed, but Napoleon knew differently.

After several long moments, the truck pulled away and back onto Jackson's main street.

"Is he okay?" Rocky hadn't moved.

"He seems to be."

Illya paused to pick up the mail and then returned to the living room.

"How did it go?" Rocky asked, easing away from his hiding spot to join Napoleon in the small entry hall.

"Fine." Illya was busy looking through the envelopes.

"Well, what do you think?" Napoleon tried this time.

"I think we might do Steak au Poivre for a special tonight. Maybe with marinated wild mushrooms and a red pepper coulis sauce."

"Illya, the pickup driver!"

"Oh, not to worry. She apparently has fallen madly in love with you. I told her you are gay and married. That seemed to finish it for her, at least for the moment."

Rocky's smile was weak. "Really? But was she the one stealing from us?"

"I doubt it, unless she's a lot smarter than she seems. I'm amazed she was able to pass a driving test." Illya still had misgivings, but he wasn't about to worry his head waiter with it.

"Don't be so sure she has," Napoleon murmured as Illya handed him the bills. "I would keep all your valuables at home tonight, Rocky."

"I already have." Rocky seemed reluctant to leave. "I sort of feel naked."

"Would you like a ride back to your place?" Illya gave up any thought of wild romance with Napoleon. He'd have to wait until later.

The relief on Rocky's face was immediate. "You… you wouldn't mind?"

"Naw, I have to get stuff for lunch." Illya tossed him a motorcycle helmet. "Come on, baby. Let's ride."

Rocky looked at the helmet and then at Napoleon. "I've never ridden a bike before."

"You'll be fine, Rocky." Napoleon clapped him on the shoulder. "He hasn't lost a passenger yet."

"It's the yet part."

"One warning, you start singing ABBA, and I might just bank a bit too hard."

Rocky shot a look at Napoleon, who winked and Rocky launched into a chorus of Dancing Queen.

"Is everyone ready?" His staff was gathered around the table. "A week ago, we had security cameras installed." There was a murmur through the group. Illya repressed a smile. He had hoped no one had noticed them. "Before you get nervous and think that I'm spying on you…" Napoleon grinned at that. "Rest assured they were there for one reason. A piece of jewelry had been left out as bait and the moment of truth is at hand. Now we will have our culprit."

The camera focused upon the jewelry revealed nothing. It never moved and no one approached it. There were was movement almost out of the camera frame, a blur of black and then it was gone.

"Hey, that's where I left my mood ring," "Celeste protested. "When I went to look for it, it was gone."

"That ring was worth a couple hundred bucks," Napoleon protested. "Why steal your two dollar ring instead. That's crazy!"

"That's weird."

"That's Rodney."

The staff turned and Rocky's stalker was standing there. On her shoulder was perched a large black bird. It titled its head and shifted slightly.

"Nevermore," it croaked.

"We should be so lucky," the girl said. "My name is Leslie and we moved here a few months ago. I thought Rodney had given up his thieving ways up here, but then I found this about a week ago." She walked to the table and dumped out a paper sack. Cries of delight followed as people saw their stolen items.

Rodney flapped and tried to hop from her shoulder. "Pretty, pretty."

"He likes shiny things. Most ravens do. You must have a window that he's found a way in through."

"We have one that we keep open for ventilation." Illya point to the eaves. "But it's screened."

"Screens are no challenge for him. Most people don't give ravens all the credit they are due."

"Is that why you were following me?" Rocky asked.

"I made some inquiries and people told me you were ABBA crazy. Since a couple of the items were ABBA, I was trying to figure out how to approach you. Then you warned me off." She looked at Illya, who bowed his head to her.

"I did. You could have told me what was going on."

"I got nervous and when I get nervous, I babble. I just needed time to regroup."

"He has a reputation of making people nervous," Napoleon murmured and Illya scowled at him.

"It's true," Henry said. "You still scare me shi—"

"Anyhow," Leslie interrupted. "I thought it was time to clear the air. I can't say that Rodney has given up his thieving ways, but if you fix that window, it will certainly slow him down."

"We will do that. Now that we know about Rodney, we will know where to come if something else goes missing." Napoleon stood and approached her, holding out his hand. "Welcome to Jackson."

Napoleon watched Illya walk from the bathroom to the bed, his shoulders slumped. "What's wrong, Illya? You've been so quiet tonight. We got everything resolved and the staff was cleared of any wrong doings."

"I know… it's just…" Illya sat heavily upon the side of the bed.

"Just what, Amante?"

"My ring wasn't there. I've looked everywhere for it. I'm sorry, Napoleon, I truly am."

"Well…" Napoleon rolled over and opened up a drawer in his nightstand and took out a ring box. "I may have had a hand in this." He opened it and held it out to Illya.

"My ring! What…?" Illya took the box and removed the ring, holding it up. "It looks different."

"I was looking at it the other day and realized one of the diamond as loose. The next time you took it off, I took it to the jeweler's to have the stone remounted and cleaned. Then I decided if I was going to go to all that trouble, I should have a couple of the smaller diamonds replaced with something more substantial. It was going to be an anniversary gift. I didn't think you would miss it as much as you have." He took the ring from Illya and slipped in onto his ring finger. "Do you still say, I do?"

"Every single day and I never regretted it for a moment."

"Me, either, Amante. Now why don't you turn off the lights and thank me for my generosity?"

At that, Illya grinned slyly. "Oh, I can do that. I'm a Russian. I can do anything."

The light click out and as the stars watched, Illya made good his promise.