Penny and Jazz had noticed the Venturis' distraction, but they said nothing. They knew their friends were capable of sorting out their own problems, and besides it seemed that far from fighting, they were being more supportive of each other tonight. Every time Jazz looked up, Derek was touching Casey in some way.

The food was just passable, and the wine merely okay, as is the case with most university formal dinners. At least being high up on the table list their food was hot when it arrived. Casey was not used to drinking large volumes of alcohol so paced herself accordingly. She drank plenty of water, probably a glass for every glass of alcohol.

Consequently, by the time they reached the dessert course, she needed the bathroom badly. She pushed her chair back, pecked Derek on the cheek and made her way to the ladies' room. It was hidden away, through some double doors, along a short corridor, behind some curtains.

Because the food was still being served there was no queue, and as Casey opened the outer door, she realised at this current moment in time it was empty.

.

"Casey's missing a treat with this chocolate mousse." Jazz said, shovelling the sticky sweet into his mouth." Penny rolled her eyes and told him to slow down.

"Yeah. She's taking her time. Maybe I should go see if she's okay." Derek suggested.

Penny stood up. "No. Don't worry. I need the bathroom anyway, I'll go."

"Thanks Penny." Derek said and went back to his chocolate pudding.

It was five minutes later when Penny arrived back at the table, but she didn't sit down.

"Derek." She said quietly. "I can't find Casey."

"Is this some kind of joke?" The bored-looking washroom attendant asked. Derek frowned.

"No. I just want to know if you've seen my wife." Derek had rummaged in his wallet and found his wedding photo to show the man. Penny would have found it kind of touching if it wasn't for the fact Casey was apparently missing.

"You and half the guests." The attendant said.

Derek stepped towards him threateningly. "Meaning?"
"Meaning, you're the fourth person who's asked me about her in the last twenty minutes."
Derek felt a sudden sense of dread.

"Was one of them a tall slim brunette?" he asked. The attendant perked up.

"Yeah. Slim with an amazing rack."

"Fuck!" Derek swore. Penny frowned.

"What's wrong?"
"Casey's in trouble."

The attendant was paying more attention now.

"Of course the brunette wasn't the first person to ask about her. That was the small guy. And then came the brunette, then the cops and then you."
Penny looked up suddenly. "Cops?"

The attendant shrugged. "Like they try to hide it but you can always tell, and these guys were clumsy. You could see their pieces through their jackets."

Casey's friend looked stunned. "Why would the cops be looking for Casey?" She asked Derek in astonishment. He didn't look so surprised.

"Not cops." He murmured. "FBI." He turned his attention back to the attendant. "Which way did they go?" He asked, ignoring Penny's spluttered questions and pointed looks. Behind her, Jazz appeared, clearly fed up with waiting for the rest of his companions. He arrived just in time to hear Derek say 'FBI'. His eyes met Derek's and he put a hand on Penny to stop her questions, shaking his head.

"Well the small guy just disappeared when my back was turned, and the FBI guys went over there." He pointed to a set of stairs. "But the brunette…she went down there, towards the goods entrance in the opposite direction to the route the FBI had taken.

Derek motioned to his friends and they stepped away.

"What's going on Derek?" Jazz asked.

"I think Casey's been taken, but I'm not sure by who and I'm not sure where they've gone."

"Why would someone take Casey?" Penny asked. "And why are the FBI involved?"
Derek looked at his friends and made a decision.

"Casey and I are in witness protection." He admitted. "The FBI are our protection detail. I'm not sure about the other two but at least one of them is dangerous and at least one of them has Casey."

Jazz cut through all the frightened questions which were threatening to issue from Penny.

"What can we do?" he asked. Derek thought quickly. He didn't want his friends getting hurt, but someone needed to follow each of the groups. The safest thing was for them to follow the FBI guys and if Casey wasn't with them, to tell them to turn around.

"You go that way." Derek ordered. "Look for the FBI idiots and tell them they've ballsed up. Tell them to phone Mac. Then show them which way the brunette went. I have a feeling she will have followed the other guy. I'll tell you more when we find Casey."

"Okay." Jazz said and without further comment, he grabbed Penny's hand and led her away in the direction the attendant had indicated. As she was running with Jazz, Derek could hear Penny asking if Jazz thought Casey was okay.

He didn't stop. He made for the loading bay and Rosemary.

It wasn't a simple route to the loading bay. It weaved through store rooms and side kitchens. However, he reasoned that someone who was trying to escape would not bother going into the side rooms, so he didn't search them. Instead, he followed the signs and prayed that the people he was following had not been so determined, and had got lost along the way.

By the time he arrived at the rear entrance to the Victorian hotel, enough time had elapsed that his quarry could have gotten clean away if his hope of their hesitation had been false.

Derek burst out into the outside air with a bang of a large metallic door. It was dark outside now, the sounds of a New York night assaulting his senses: sirens wailing, horns honking, and the squeal of tyres. He glanced around him and saw he was in a wide side alley, next to a metal rolled entrance where it was clear deliveries to the hotel were made. Along the side walls were large dumpsters and a small trail of debris that a hotel inspector would have a field day with. The noise of the night suddenly dropped and Derek heard the scuttling of something small and rodent-like off to his left.

He had read enough action books in his childhood to understand the rush of adrenaline which enabled him to determine what it was scratching through the garbage, above the sounds of New York City. He was Derek Venturi, NYU student and potential photograph-cum-film director, but right now, dressed in his tux and sweating like a hippo on the savannah, he felt more like Bond, James fucking Bond.

As his hearing adjusted to the sounds that were more immediately relevant to him, i.e. those closest, he realised that he was not alone in the alley. There was a group of people up ahead, but he couldn't see them because a particularly large dumpster was in the way.

He straightened himself from the dramatic, mid-flight pose he had arrived at, and crept towards the dumpster as quickly as he could so that he could see what was going on. As he did so, his heart came into his mouth as he realised, Casey was indeed one of the three people in front of him, and she was being held by the small guy.

She looked vulnerable, but as he gazed at her face, he realised she wasn't broken. There was a defiance in her that hadn't been repressed yet. Casey McDonald was an innocent, but she was nobody's fool. As he thought the phrase he realised he had unintentionally named her by her maiden name, and he corrected himself because never had he been more proud or more in love with his wife than he was now.

She was Casey Venturi.

The other two people in the alley were also positioned in defiant stances and their body language spoke volumes as to what was going on.

"Stefan. This is ridiculous. You know Papa isn't going to let you get away with it. She's a Venturi."

"In name, only." Stefan said. "No one who knows this two truly believes they are together. It's a farce, a marriage made purely to protect her, and it won't do shit when I've finished with her."

Derek edged forward as the two elders conversed. Casey was struggling against Stefan but then he moved suddenly and Derek gasped when he realised one of the hands holding her to him was holding a gun. Stefan's intentions evidently didn't include shoving Casey down a flight of stairs.

"Don't be stupid, Stefan. Whatever the motive behind their marriage, Derek has made his intentions clear. She's under his protection. And what a Venturi wants a Venturi gets."

Stefan snorted. "Yeah…well, that didn't work so well for you, did it?"
Rosemary was silent for a moment. Then when she spoke her voice was quiet.

"That was a long time ago. We're different people now." She sounded submissive but from his vantage point, Derek could see her manoeuvring something from the bag hanging from her side.

He could guess what it was, and he wanted to shout "stop" because he didn't want Casey caught between two guns.

"Stefan. She's under the protection of the family. You and I both know that."

"I'm not being hung out to dry." Stefan protested.

"No. You aren't. This fuck up is of your own making." Rosemary stated bluntly. "And that's always been your problem. You never could understand when it was your fault. You were always quick to blame others. And let's face it, this all began long before Dennis McDonald. What right do you have to threaten his daughters?"

"He sold me out to the FBI." Stefan said, jerking Casey round, his eyes flickering wildly.

Rosemary sighed. "You screwed up and the FBI got on to you. Seriously, this is nothing to do with McDonald."

"You're fucking biased. You and your incestuous need for George fucking lame duck Venturi. Jesus! Fucking in-breeds!"

"You don't have a clue what you are talking about, Stefan. You know nothing about George Venturi. You're a limp dick with one brain cell who couldn't organise an orgy in a whorehouse. The family is sick of you, your mother is sick of you and quite frankly, I'm sick of you."

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Derek felt something hit him, a sharp stab of pain, and then nothing but black.