A/N: And here is the 10th door of our Advent Calendar! Hope you like it! Wasn't the story I was planning on posting, but we'll get to that one later. :)


January 16th 1999

It started, as so many things did, with a late night phone call.

Rusty had been living in San Francisco for the past couple of months, seeing a corporate lawyer casually and an art dealer professionally, and every now and then he thought that maybe it should be the other way around.

On this particular night he'd taken the lawyer – Jeremy – to the movies where he'd discovered that Jeremy didn't like Hitchcock. That might just be a dealbreaker. Still, they'd gone back to his place for a lazy dinner on the balcony and a lazier night atop the sheets on his bed, the windows open and the moonlight and the breeze coming in over the bay, and he'd fallen asleep warm and sated and comfortable and almost happy, and when he'd dreamed he'd dreamed of happier times and Danny.

He was startled out of sleep by the sound of the phone ringing.

"Fuck's sake," Jeremy groaned. "Shut that thing up, can't you?"

As he reached for the phone he glanced at the clock on his bedside table. Ten past three in the morning.

No one ever called him at three in the morning because they wanted to chat. Not since Danny had gone to prison anyway.

Danny.

Cold fear crept up his spine and a thousand different often-considered worst possibilities crowded through his head all over again.

He grabbed the phone and answered it briskly. "Yeah."

There was dead silence.

"Hello?" he said, frowning.

Jeremy groaned disgruntledly and pulled a pillow over his head.

Rusty ignored him, all his attention on the phone, and he thought he could hear someone breathing, got an impression of misery and distress.

"Who's there?" he asked, and his voice was as gentle as he could make it.

"Rusty?" The voice was choked and broken but Rusty recognised it at once.

"Tess?" he said, sitting up, instantly alert. "Tess, what's happened?"

There was a gasp. "I'm sorry," she moaned and the phone went dead.

He stared down at it for a frozen second, and then he was checking the number.

Landline. He blessed the fact that Tess didn't like cellphones. Area code suggested Philadelphia and that was nothing he hadn't already known.

He hit redial and listened intently, and the phone rang out and he wasn't surprised. Wasn't going to be that easy. He got out of bed and dressed quickly.

"Where are you going?" Jeremy asked sleepily.

"Away," Rusty said shortly. "Let yourself out. You can help yourself to anything around." Anything being anything. Instinctively, he felt it was unlikely he'd be back.

He left quickly, grabbing the overnight bag he always kept packed and ready and heading out to his car.

The worry was racing through him. Tess was in trouble, that much was obvious and that was unexpected. Tess just didn't get into the sort of trouble that he was used to. And no matter that she hadn't actually asked him, he had to help her. Not just for Danny's sake.

He drove to the airport. If he caught the first flight he could be in Philadelphia by late morning. He could only hope that he was in time.

He called Livingston from the departure lounge.

"It's half four in the morning," Livingston announced sleepily.

"Not what I need to know right now," Rusty said with a grin.

"I'm going to get you a watch for Christmas," Livingston told him with a sigh. "So you can try calling at civilised times."

"You think I'm civilised?" Rusty shot back. "I need a number traced. Fast as possible."

Livingston sighed again. "Tell me. I'll text you back in a half hour. That fast enough?"

Not like he could get to Philadelphia before that anyway. So it would have to be. "Here's hoping," he said quietly and he kept hearing Tess' voice in his head. She hadn't sounded that distraught and desperate when he'd spoken to her after Danny went to prison. "Thanks, Livingston." He gave him the number and hung up.

He drank coffee after coffee and he tried calling Tess back again but the phone just rang out.

Perhaps he should try and contact Danny. If Tess was in trouble, Danny would want to know immediately. And if Danny knew Rusty had kept him out of the loop...well, Rusty wouldn't blame him for being angry. Only trouble was, even with the little that Rusty knew, there was no way that Danny would be content to wait in prison knowing that Tess might be in trouble. No, he had to find out what was going on first, then he could figure out what and how to tell Danny.

That was the right decision. And it still didn't sit well with him.

The flight to Philly had to be one of the longest of his life.

Livingston came through, like he always did, but the information wasn't of much immediate use. A payphone at a busy junction. He looked round the less-than-salubrious neighbourhood and wondered. What would Tess even be doing here? He couldn't begin to guess.

Luckily this wasn't his only lead.

He'd kept himself aware of Tess' movements in the time immediately after Danny. Enough to be aware that she'd moved to Philadelphia, that she'd found a job and an apartment, that she was settled and taking care of herself.

Now, he thought maybe he should have kept a closer eye on her.

The address he had for her was out of date. The guy that answered the door told him that much. Apparently he'd been living there a year and he had no idea who'd had the apartment before him.

Still, he had the job, and he walked into the gallery hoping to see her, hoping that she'd tell him it was all a misunderstanding, that she was fine.

There was no sign of her. But the woman who was there seemed pleased to see him.

He smiled dazzlingly as she looked her up and down.

"Well, hi there," she breathed. "I'm Angelica. Can I help you with anything? Anything at all."

"Nice to meet you, Angelica," he said, letting the lazy flirt ripple through his voice. Whatever it took. "I'm looking for Tess. I think she works here."

"Tess?" Her nose wrinkled. "Tess Halliday, you mean?"

She'd gone back to using her maiden name. He wasn't surprised, but still he felt the pain on Danny's behalf. "That's right, yes."

"She quit," Angelica said with a shrug. "Nine months back."

Mmm. That was...surprising. "She find a new job?" he asked casually.

She shrugged again. "Don't think so. Think she just quit before she was fired."

Fired? Tess? That was...that sounded absolutely unbelievable. "What makes you say that?" he asked, head tilted to one side, giving her every inch of his attention.

She basked in it, leaning forwards confidentially. "Well, when she first started working here she was great, you know? Fit in fine, brilliant with the customers...everyone liked her."

He nodded, urging her to go on. That sounded like Tess. She'd always been good at her job. She'd always loved it, always wanted to carry on working even though Danny could have effortlessly supported her in any style she fancied. And he'd be willing to bet a year's supply of chocolate that she'd never even mentioned the break up to her colleagues. "So what happened?"

"Well," she said, stepping even closer to him. "A year ago...or maybe a little longer, I guess...she started to change. She stopped going out with us after work, she stopped chatting to the customers, she stopped smiling. She just got really rude and stand offish, you know? Like she thought she was better than everyone else. She had some new man, she said once. Guess that was enough for her."

Mmm. None of this sounded like Tess. "So then she just quit?" he asked unconcernedly.

"Oh, it got worse first of all," she told him gleefully. "She started showing up late, when she bothered showing up at all. A lot of days she just called in sick. And then she started wearing these stupid dark glasses all the time. Most of us figured she had a problem." She dropped into a whisper. "A drinking problem," she added. "Or something worse even. One time, I caught her popping pills in the restroom. She said it was for a headache but I don't know...she'd thrown up too. If it was a headache, it must have been some hangover." She giggled slightly, and immediately schooled her expression into something pious and concerned. "Of course, it's all a terrible shame. It's a sickness, really. I hope she's found some help."

Rusty didn't think she had. He also seriously doubted that Tess was in the kind of trouble Angelica assumed. Of course, it was always possible...

Wasn't the only thing that was possible. An awful idea was itching at the back of his mind, screaming through his every thought. He bit the inside of his mouth hard and told himself he was overreacting. Jumping to conclusions. Just because once upon a time he'd been in that position, hurt and hiding, didn't mean...well, it didn't mean anything.

Still. He needed to talk to her. He needed to talk to her soon.

And the question remained; should he tell Danny? He just didn't know.

He smiled brightly at Angelica. "I wonder," he said softly. "If you might have a forwarding address for Tess?"