AU in which Christian Ozera is a classic hard-boiled detective. He pounds doors and takes names, shoots first and asks questions later. He's aided by his trusty partner, Lissa Dragomir. They've just gotten their latest assignment: a forlorn girl walks in, reporting her boyfriend missing. Can Detective Ozera and Miss Dragomir crack the case?

Christian's POV for this one. And pretend Rose and Abe aren't related at all.

Christian Ozera: Private Eye
Lissa Dragomir: Assistant

The letters glared at me from the frosted window of my door as I finished stenciling them on. Satisfied, I leaned back to appraise my work.

"Don't you think it's a bit cliché? And assistant? Really?"

That was Lissa, my partner when it came to solving cases. She was an ace investigator, despite her being a dame.

"Doesn't matter, doll face," I quipped, pushing through the door into my office. "It's not a cliché, and you know how Stan feels about you helping me on cases."

She rolled her jade green eyes. "The same way he feels about Rose helping Dimitri. But does that stop them? No."

Dimitri Belikov was an officer on the police force, and his boss, Stan, was the chief. However, Stan wasn't my boss. I was lucky enough not to be tied to the police force officially. I just solved cases for them, getting nothing in return except for a cold handshake and maybe a warm beer. But hey, that's all in a day's work for a private eye.

Rose was Lissa's best friend and girlfriend to Belikov. He was a decent guy, calm, rational, but Rose was nothing but trouble, with a capital T. That dame went looking for trouble and she found it, not that she needed to look hard. With her stubborn and pushy attitude, she pissed off gangsters and Stan alike. I never knew how Dimitri handled her.

Lissa was the opposite. She was sweet and gentle, which was helpful when we needed to interview clients or suspects who were in a delicate emotional state. Lissa also had this knack for pulling secrets out of people without them even knowing what they were giving away. It helped that she was so pretty, too.

I was rough, tough, and mean, and I didn't care. Chasing shifty guys down dark streets and into even darker alleys, doing sketchy trade offs at midnight, and interrogating punks was my game. I never let Lissa come with me on those errands, but she always managed to sneak her way into my plans, and always getting herself into compromising situations.

Luckily, I had taught her how to shoot and fight, and her angelic appearance always misled any unscrupulous characters. She was more than just my assistant; she was my partner.

I sat down behind my desk and Lissa leaned against it, tucking her blonde hair back behind her ear. "Quite frankly, I don't give a damn what Stan says," she continued. "He can go to hell."

"I'm sure he'd love to hear you say that. Why don't you go tell him," I said, amused.

Lissa rolled her eyes again and shifted through the paperwork on my desk. "Aren't you going to sort through this?"

"Well, that's generally what an assistant does," I shoved aside some papers and reached for a cigarette. I offered her one, but she shook her head disdainfully.

"I'm not sorting through your paperwork. You're the private eye here."

"Alright, sweetheart, then you can go re-stencil the door and deal with Stan later."

Before she had the chance, the door swung open and a girl walked in. She was about five foot seven, blonde hair, brown eyes. Not bad looking of course, but no one could compare to Lissa.

She removed her hat and stood tall. "Are you Christian Ozera?"

"Who wants to know?" I retorted.

Lissa smacked me in the back of the head and walked forward, ushering the girl in. "Yes, he's Christian Ozera. He's also a smartass. I'm Lissa Dragomir, his partner. What can we help you with?"

The girl took a seat. "My name is Sydney Sage, and my fiancé Adrian has been missing for two weeks now. I need you to find him."

I leaned forward. A case, just what I needed. "You do know that you can report him as a missing person to the police first, right, sweetheart? I'm sure they'll help ya."

She shook her head. "The police can't be involved."

Lissa closed the door and took her seat beside me, fingers already flying on her typewriter. "Do you mind if I type this? To have a record of your case?"

Sydney sighed. "As long as no one in the police department can see it."

Lissa nodded. "It will be treated with full confidentiality, I assure you."

Sydney nodded and began her story. "Alright then. My fiancé is Adrian Ivashkov. He's involved in an underground bootlegging ring. He doesn't deal with dirty money, he just supplies the booze and gets paid for it for every pint he delivers."

She waited for Lissa to type it out. "And who does he work with?" Lissa asked.

Sydney bit her lip and toyed with the edge of her hat nervously. "A gangster named Abe Mazur. Both Adrian and I have history with him. I hired him to… visit… someone, and I owe him a favor. Adrian got mixed into his gang activities because of me."

This case was shaping up to be more dangerous than a pit of snakes, and twice as venomous. Abe 'Zmey' Mazur was a notorious gangster, called 'Zmey' because of his Turkish roots and the name literally meant 'snake'. He was more dangerous than a copperhead, cobra, and rattlesnake all rolled into one. Those who got involved with Zmey rarely lived to see their next birthday. Speaking of which…

"What exactly was your fiancé doing the night he went missing?" I asked.

"Same as he always does once every month: bringing more alcohol to the drop off zone. He never tells me where he goes specifically. He went out around seven o'clock, and was supposed to be back by nine. He never came home." She bit her lip.

"And why did you wait two weeks to come forward?" I asked. "Why not come here the day after he went missing?"

Lissa's fingers were flying. They were no doubt going to be stained with ink by the end of the meeting.

"Sometimes Zmey sends him on errands that can go from three to seven days, sometimes even longer. I thought this was one of them. But then last night, I got this in the mail."

She delved into her pocketbook and produced a note. "There was no address or name on it. Just my name on front."

I took the note and unfolded it.

Sydney,

Things are unstable at the moment. Will not be home for awhile. I've sent a package after this note, and it should arrive within a day of this. DO NOT open it.

Stay safe.

Lots of love,

Adrian

"Adrian didn't send that note. He never gives my name in notes he sends me when on business. And he usually signs them 'Jet Steele', not his real name."

I raised an eyebrow. "Jet Steele?"

She shrugged. "He likes to use it as a pseudonym. I think it's ridiculous."

"And the package?" Lissa asked, pausing her rapid typing. "Has it arrived yet?"

Sydney shook her head. "No, I have no idea what it could be. My first thought was alcohol, but no one is stupid enough to mail alcohol, especially during this damn prohibition."

"Your fiancé struggles with prohibition?" I asked. "Is he a big drinker?"

Sydney nodded. "That's part of why Zmey brought him into his gang. Zmey needed a guy who was motivated enough to get booze for himself, and with the right persuasion, he got booze for everybody."

I set the note down and steepled my fingers. "Miss Sage, I'm going to be frank here. I suspect foul play in your fiancé's disappearance. It could be gang related, or he's just hiding from the police. But I think it's gang related. His life could be in grave danger, so when you get the package, do not open it."

She nodded, took a deep breath, and stood to go. "Thank you, Detective Ozera, Miss Dragomir."

"We'll be in touch," Lissa assured her. "And it's dark out, you seem uncomfortable. I'll go ask Officer Belikov if he'd walk you to your car."

"Oh, that's not necessary-"

"I insist," Lissa smiled. That was just like Lissa, to read someone so easily even they didn't know what they were feeling.

In no time, she had twisted Dimitri's arm into walking Sydney to her car, and made her way into my office. I had kept the note, and I was studying it closely.

"I know the first place to look," I said to Lissa. "To scrounge for clues."

"And that is?"

"The docks. Only the shadiest figures go there to do shady business."

Lissa grinned. "It's getting late then. We'd better get started."

I know, I know. This is out of order. But Missing Part 3 is coming along a bit slowly, so here is a nice Chrissa drabble to tide you all over.

This isn't going to be a continued ficlet, just a little one-shot drabble (but I'll do another private eye one, if someone gives me an idea for another case for Christian and Lissa!). Christian would make the BEST private eye! Maybe I'll do a western with Dimitri, yes?

This takes place in about 1930. Prohibition was around that time, or maybe it was more twenties? I don't know. Just think of Christian as Humphrey Bogart and everything should be fine. Christian is your average shady private eye.

Thank you Lizzie and David Fishwick for reviewing the previous chapter! And the rest of you, review or else Christian might have to come round and take names and ask questions… O.O