Authors Note: One again props to DianeM for being an awesome beta. Thanks to the people at Maple Street and those that have reviewed and listed me as a favourite. I don't do this for reviews but they do make me happy. Anyway, enjoy!

BL Studios

33 hours missing

The security guard was a balding Hispanic man in his late fifties who looked to have developed quite a paunch early in life. He wore the standard guard uniform but with his own modifications: a trail of stains and crumbs littered the front of his jacket and shirt, and he wasn't wearing a tie.

"So you saw Chloe alive at 2:00 AM, correct?" Jack sighed. His patience was wearing thin, although truth be told, it didn't need much these days. Mike Sanchez nodded in answer.

"Sí, Señorita Larson was working in the video room. I saw nothin'…nada, thought maybe an intruder, so I checked. We talked. There was no problema. So I went back to the front of the building. Saw nothin' else."

"Was anybody else in the building?" Alex asked. Mike stared blankly at her. Jack's eyes narrowed, wondering why he'd decided to go all 'lost in translation' on them now. "Había alguién en el edificio?"

Mike shook his head. "Nada preocupante."

Jack looked at Alex expectantly for a translation. He spoke passable Russian but had never managed to pick up Danny's mother tongue.

"He didn't see anything," Alex translated. Jack nodded, mulling over what else to ask.

"They got CCTV?"

"Sabe si tienen CCTV en el edificio?" Alex asked Mike, who by now was focusing completely on the female agent.

"Sí, el magnétoscopio fue enviado a la tienda para no vi ninguna cosa," Mike replied, gesturing with his hands, glancing at Jack to see if he understood. Jack for his part just looked at Alex. While part of him still hated the intrusion and the audacity that Organized Crime had displayed in assigning one of their agents onto his case, working with her was proving not to be so bad after all.

"No the tape recorder is in for repairs and . . ."

"He saw nothing, I know," Jack finished, a smile flickering briefly on his face, almost extending to his eyes for what felt like the first time in months.

Alex smiled back, grateful that Agent Malone's original gruff demeanor had disappeared for the moment. His earlier comment about starting a case with some hope for a happy outcome flashed across her mind. She could learn from him, so perhaps this assignment wasn't so bad.

"All right, let's head back to the office," Jack suggested, nodding goodbye and thank you to Mr. Sanchez before turning and walking to the exit.

"Muchas gracias por su tiempo, Señor Sanchez. Su ayuda fue muy preciosa," Alex thanked him before turning and walking away in the direction of the exit after Jack. When she caught up with him, their shoulders brushed together. A bit uncomfortable, Jack cleared his throat and veered left to increase the distance between them, hoping that Alex wouldn't think anything of it.

FBI Headquarters

33 Hours Missing

The call to set up the meeting at CBS's New York headquarters had taken Vivian less time than expected. Normally when they needed to interview a high-level executive, they were given the run-around, but it seemed that, for the moment, the network was willing to co-operate. As Samantha had phoned in to report the existence of a boyfriend named 'Ted', Vivian decided to investigate that angle until any further orders came from Jack.

Usually, she would be entirely comfortable using her own initiative. She knew she was capable enough to decide what was important and what wasn't, and in the past she'd always had Jack's carte blanche approval. While he had always held the supervisor role, they had always worked together like equals in a partnership that benefited them both. Her promotion, subsequent demotion and Jack's reassignment had left that partnership in tatters.

The worst part of it was that she'd been the one who had hammered the nails into the coffin of their friendship. She'd believed that he was capable of being cutthroat and deceitful when he'd actually been more out of the loop than she had. How she had ever managed to convince herself even for the briefest span of time that the support he'd given her over the Parker case had been anything but genuine she didn't know. Now there was a gulf between them of things better left unsaid, but she knew he still cared.

Mrs. Parker's inexplicable suicide had preyed upon her mind, he'd known that, and so he took the time to contact Mr. Parker in the guise of a follow-up interview to close that particular hole for her. Jack taped the interview and transcribed it for her, handing her the document wordlessly the day before in the bullpen. According to Mr. Parker, his wife had suffered from undiagnosed manic depression for years and it wasn't the first time she'd tried to commit suicide.

The peace of mind that came from knowing the answer to why a mother would kill herself while her child was present was nothing compared to the relief that Jack's understated action had given her. Now, somehow she had to find a way to show him that she too wanted to salvage their friendship. Until then, their working partnership would be somewhat awkward with each one testing the boundaries to see where they fell. This would be one of those tests.

Her computer bleeping brought Vivian's mind back to the task at hand. First of all, given that Chloe was a chronic workaholic, if a boyfriend existed, the chances were that he was a colleague. With that deduction, Vivian checked the list of employees at BL Studios for anybody named Ted. There were three. The first was a technician in the Sound Department but he was unlikely, as he was sixty years old. The second was a messenger and he was nineteen, so again unlikely. The third looked more promising. He, like the second, was a messenger but he was closer to Chloe's age at forty. His full name was Ted Simmonds and he had been working for the studio six months. Likely or not, it still needed to be validated by something more substantial than reasonable deduction - something like phone records. These days with computers, they were easy enough to check; the Bureau didn't even have to call the phone company, they could run the search themselves. The data protection lobby had had a field day with that, but had quieted down of late ever since this time-saving measure had saved the life of a little girl from Kansas.

In no time at all, mainly due to the short time frame, the results flashed up on her screen. Smiling, Vivian swiftly picked up the phone and dialed Danny's cell. After just one ring he answered.

"Taylor."

"Hi, Danny I think I've identified Chloe's boyfriend: a Ted Simmonds, he works for the studio."

BL Studios

33 hours missing

Ted Simmonds worked as a messenger for the studio going between the different lots and editing suites, passing footage between them and notes from the producers and other studio type things, which made him difficult to pin down. However, several phone calls later Danny found him at the CSI:NY lot taking a cigarette break. At first appearances he looked younger than Chloe, with short dark hair and a faint trace of a moustache, dressed in a grubby looking white t-shirt, jeans and a sleeveless green jacket. As Danny approached him, he looked up, dropped his cigarette and put it out with his foot before walking towards him, hand outstretched.

"Are you the FBI?" Ted asked, waiting for a nod from Danny before shaking his hand. "I'm Ted Simmonds. I heard you've been looking for me."

"That's right," Danny replied guardedly. He reached into his left-hand jacket pocket and withdrew his notebook, flicking to a clean page before beginning the questioning.

A lot of people got nervous when notes were taken; not only was it an official record of their story, but it also unnerved a lot of people to see their own words written down - particularly if they were guilty of something.

"Are you Chloe Larson's boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Ted nodded, running a hand through his hair distractedly. "I just can't believe she's missing. I knew she wasn't answering my calls, but I never thought anything had happened to her. She was a very independent woman; I thought perhaps she needed the space. I mean she could look after herself. What do you think happened?"

"We're not sure yet," Danny told him, careful about keeping his answer vague. Something about this guy felt wrong, he could sense it even if he just couldn't put his finger on what it was. "When did you last see Chloe?" he pressed further.

"Three days ago. We had a bit of an argument, nothing serious. It happens all the time, really. That's why I thought she was ignoring me. I did get a little concerned yesterday when she didn't show up for the meeting, but I figured she just needed some time off. She's been working really hard lately trying to get this new show ready for the fall season," Ted explained, shifting position uncomfortably and running his hand through his hair again.

'He looked every inch the concerned boyfriend,' Danny thought but he just couldn't erase the nagging doubt at the back of his mind. Maybe he was just becoming paranoid; that was what happened when you stayed in this job too long, particularly when every minute of your working day you have to evaluate everybody, even your co-workers.

"Where were you last night between the hours of 10:00 PM and 4:00 AM?" Danny asked, gradually convincing himself, given the lack of any other indicators apart from his gut, that there was nothing here but a concerned boyfriend.

"I was at home, I watched some TV I had recorded off TivO, CSI: Vegas style, and then I went to bed," Ted replied shaking his head a little. "I thought I'd see her today. She never ever missed a shoot, not even when she was sick. If I'd known . . . .?" Ted trailed off. Danny snapped his notebook shut; there was nothing here.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Simmonds. We'll be in touch if we have to talk to you again," Danny told him. Ted nodded in acknowledgement, pulling out his lighter and cigarette packet. Danny intently watched his anxious movements for a moment, searching for anything slightly suspicious, before walking away, having found nothing.