A/N Christopher LaSalle circa 2006 lurks in this here chapter - around the middle! :-) This takes place about a year after the flashbacks in NCIS: New Orleans Season 2, Ep. 10 "Billy and the Kid". LaSalle/Pride interaction and h/c in the next chappie, I promise!

A/N #2 Trip is missing, the hunt is on, but I didn't want Trip to be missing from the story, as well. But instead of giving the mystery away, I've been throwing in some flashbacks (which will provide even more possibilities for more Archer/Trip h/c)! XD

CHAPTER FOUR

As Jonathan stepped through the doors, he saw the bartender counting the cash in the till and placing it into a bag labeled 'Deposit'. He couldn't know for sure, but there didn't seem to be all that much money in the bag when it was sealed up and slipped into the inside pocket of the bartender's jacket. Slow night, maybe?

The interior of the bar was pretty much as he'd expected – not the least bit pretentious or touristy. Wooden stools with a natural finish lined the long pine countertop that stretched in an "L", with the short end closest to the door. At the other end, an opening in the wall led to what appeared to be a kitchen.

The lighting was just right to suit the casual atmosphere, and the wall behind the bar was lined with liquor that looked to be affordable but not cheap. At the far end of the room was a small low-rise stage platform with a piano.

The one thing he hadn't expected, but maybe should have given what he'd discovered about Hurricane Katrina, was the massive water damage to the walls and flooring. Just like with so many other areas in the city, repairs were clearly underway here, as well.

Nevertheless, Jonathan found himself wishing that they had this type of establishment in the 22nd century. It felt homey. And it was indeed exactly the kind of setting Trip would appreciate – particularly when mourning his baby sister.

"Nice place," Archer commented.

The bartender glanced up from his counting, a grateful kind of surprise in his gaze. "Thanks. Not sure how much she'll be around, though."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Jonathan inched his way toward the bar. Small talk in a different century, where you're not supposed to 'contaminate' the current society, was not as easy as it some might think. "This seems like a place a guy could really wind down after a long day." As he got closer, he saw the nametag on the bartender's shirt – Logan.

Holding Logan's gaze for a long moment, Jonathan was just starting to think he had misspoken for the second time in as many days when the guy gave him a grim smile. "People don't come to bars to 'wind down' anymore, or so my financial advisor tells me." Seemingly caught up in a memory, he said, "I can remember coming here as a kid with my dad. Every afternoon, there was a woman who would sit up there, " he pointed to the piano, "and tickle those ivories like no one I'd ever heard before. She had the voice of an angel, too." His voice had taken on a definite wistful quality.

Archer gently cleared his throat, yanking Logan's attention back to the here and now. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I get a little lost in the past, y'know?"

"You have no idea," Jonathan sincerely stated.

"Anyway, what can I do for you?"

Jonathan stepped up to the bar. With no other choice, the captain had to risk the repercussions of interfering with the development of Earth's current society and culture by showing a picture of Trip on his Starfleet issued tablet. "Have you seen this man?"

Barely hearing Archer's question, Logan gazed at the tablet with a mixture of curiosity and awe. "Hey, man, what is that? I heard a rumour that Apple is going to be releasing a tablet version of their MacBook computer by the end of this year... Dude! Did you score the assignment as Beta Tester for Apple?"

Anxious to move on to whether or not the bartender had seen Trip, Archer said, "Yes, yes, that's right. I'm the, uh, Beta Tester for Apple." Why an apple needed a beta test, he had no clue, but he didn't have time for that. "Now, about my friend…?"

Reluctantly, Logan dragged his eyes away from the buttons and the various bells and whistles visible on the device, and focused on the holographic image hovering above the screen. He thought for a moment and the captain could almost hear the gears turning inside the other man's head. Finally:

"Yeah… yeah, I remember him. He was sitting right over there," he said, pointing to the far end of the bar, closest to the door.

He went on to explain that he hadn't had all that much time to talk to him because they had been uncharacteristically busy that night due to people wanting to have a drink or three in memory of lost loved ones on the anniversary of their deaths.

Trying not to make the obvious correlation between Trip and the citizens of New Orleans, Jonathan asked how many of those drinks his friend had consumed.

"Some people come here to drown their sorrows. Others feel like they don't have anyone else to turn to, so they sip their drink and sit amongst strangers. For the camaraderie, if you will." He pointed to the picture. "Your friend was a combination of the two. He threw back a few shots of tequila, then nursed three-fingers of whiskey for the remainder of the night. At least, until those two outta-towners came up and sat beside him."

"Out of towners?"

Logan shrugged. "Yeah. I looked back a few minutes later and he was gone."

"What about the other two men?"

Logan cleaned the top of the bar with a damp rag as he ran through the events of the hours leading up to closing time. Huh. "You know what? I don't remember seeing them again, either. You don't think they did anything to your friend, do you?"

"At this point, I'd only be guessing, Logan, but it is possible."

"Oh, man, I am so sorry! I mean, something didn't seem right about those guys from the get-go, but there are so many tourists that come in and outta this town on a regular basis, it's kinda hard to tell the normal from the crazy, y'know?"

Jonathan assured Logan it wasn't his fault, then thanked him and resumed his search. Part of him had wanted to grab the guy by the front of his shirt and shake him until his teeth fell out. But that urge only lasted a second before he realized Logan wasn't to blame for this situation. Archer couldn't hold anyone but himself accountable for Trip's predicament!

'…Others feel like they don't have anyone else to turn to…'

The captain's heart broke at the realization that Trip felt like he couldn't come to him. But he hadn't given him any reason to think otherwise in the past months, had he? He could hear Trip's voice in his head: 'Don't beat yourself up, Cap'n. You had a lot on yer plate."

"We all did," Jonathan muttered to himself in argument.

'Yeah,' inner-voice Trip conceded. 'But 'specially you, sir. You had a whole planet countin' on you to not only catch the Xindi but to stop 'em from attackin' again.'

It seemed Trip couldn't resist coming to the captain's defense even when he wasn't physically there. He was always so quick to forgive when Jonathan failed him, regardless of whether or not that failure resulted in Trip himself getting hurt!

April 13th, 2151

The bar was crowded to say the least. Wall to wall people – some on the dance floor, some at the bar, some hunkered around their tables in conversation, trying to be heard over the music. The captain had reserved a back section for the party, which Trip was grateful for, but it felt awkward nevertheless.

He was still in the getting-to-know-you phase with everyone at their table but Captain Archer, who was currently nowhere to be seen. Trip smirked when he thought back to the pretty young lady who had eyed the captain from the crowd. Nah, he knew exactly where Captain Archer was spending his time. And good for him! It had been a while since he and Erika had parted ways. Trip didn't know the whole story behind that relationship but his friend didn't have to say much for Trip to be able to tell that the man's heart had been broken.

Taking a sip from his beer, he engaged in only semi-awkward conversation with Hoshi, Malcolm, Travis and Doctor Phlox. He looked up just as a few of the guys from his Starfleet class came through the door.

"Can you guys excuse me for a minute, please?"

"Sure, no problem, Commander," Hoshi told him with a shy smile.

"Take your time, Trip," Travis said, with Phlox nodding in agreement.

Malcolm was too busy flirting with their waitress, and she with him, to notice the conversation.

With a knowing smirk, Trip approached his old buddies, pausing mid-step as Stephanie Ryerson stepped into the bar and joined them. Also an old classmate… and ex-girlfriend. He sighed inwardly but continued on to greet the small group. "Hey, guys! How's it goin'?"

"Trip!" They hollered out in unison. All except Stephanie who stood shell-shocked at the sight of him.

"What are you guys doin' here?" Trip asked.

"Partying," Joey Calhoun announced. "What else?"

The guy had a point. Trip embraced all of them one by one, the hug with Stephanie being hesitant and awkward but doable.

"Hi, Trip," she whispered in his ear. "It's good to see you."

"You, too, Steph," he said, trying his best to mean it.

Stephanie had gotten a little… clingy, towards the end of their relationship. Trip had tried talking to her, telling her that he needed space to do his own thing – which included studying just as much as hanging out with his friends. She hadn't taken it too well.

Joey clapped him on the back, pulling his attention away from Stephanie. "I heard about your assignment! Congratulations, man!"

"Thanks, Joey! I appreciate that!"

At that moment, Harry Thurstenhower IV, six foot three, solid as a brick house, and face like a super model, joined the group. He smile sweetly at Stephanie, all but ignoring Trip's presence.

"Hey, Harry," Joey called out, "did you hear about Trip's new assignment?"

The hulk laughed derisively. "Amazing what kind of assignments you can get when you're willing to suck up to the brass."

Trip clenched his fists so hard, he was pretty sure he chipped a tooth. People had always read too much into his friendship with Jonathan Archer. They just couldn't understand that the two of them had a connection. Captain Archer was not only his best friend, the one person he knew he could count on no matter what, he was also like family.

Harry's appearance had Trip thinking back to the card his dad had sent him to congratulate him on his assignment to Enterprise. He and Harry used to be best friends, they'd even grown up together. But as soon as they started Starfleet, Harry's competitive streak had reached new heights, putting a significant strain on their bond. When Trip graduated with higher honours than Harry, the friendship had ended completely.

He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. "Don't listen to him," Joey told him, glaring at Harry who was now giving them both his back and whispering sweet nothings into Stephanie's ear, having no idea that her gaze was focused on Trip. "He's just upset that it wasn't him."

It was true. Jealous of Trip's accomplishments, Mr. Thurstenhower IV had ended up being the epitome of what Trip's dad had warned him about since high school graduation. You can't truly trust anyone because, given the right circumstances, the right motivation, everyone will let you down.

"He totally failed the 'How to Make Friends and Influence People' class. You got a zero on the oral exam, didn't you, Harry?" The hulk spun around to face Joey, fire in his eyes. "Oh, wait, my mistake, that was the Personality test!"

Harry continued to glare at Joey but didn't make a move, making Trip wonder why. As Harry stormed off with Stephanie in tow, Joey explained, "I caught him cheating on the final exam for Sociology."

"And he's still afraid you'll spill the beans?"

Joey nodded, unable to hide the smirk on his face.

"But we graduated years ago."

"Yeah, but he's terrified I'll tell his dad and he'll lose not only his allowance but his inheritance, too!"

The two both started laughing, despite the knives they could still feel being glared into their backs from across the room.

"So, where are you sitting? You wanna join us?"

"Naw, I don't think that'd be a good idea."

"You mean because of Harry? We'll ditch 'im. He's a jerk anyway."

Trip chuckled. "No, no. I'm actually here with some friends." He pointed over to his table, surprised to find only Hoshi sitting there now.

"You sly dog," Joey exclaimed, slapping him on the shoulder once again.

"What?"

"Well, I mean, she's what, seven or eight years younger than you?"

Not catching Joey's meaning, Trip said, "I don't know how old she is, I never asked."

"Oh man," Joey laughed at him. "Don't you know, you're always supposed to ask!"

They shook hands and embraced one last time.

As Joey started to walk away, a light bulb finally flicked on in Trip's head. Joey thought he and Hoshi were...? "Wait, no, it's not like that – "

"Riight! Sure, Trip! I don't want to keep you and your lady friend apart!"

"Joey, wait, it's not – "

"I'm really happy for you, man! Congratulations on your new assignment!"

And then he disappeared into the crowd. Trip shook his head with a chuckle. Him and Hoshi? Seriously? I mean, yeah, she was pretty, sure. But way too young for Trip! What could they possibly have in common?

He felt kind of bad that he hadn't been able to set Joey straight but what did it really matter? They were all leaving space dock in three days, anyway. Let Joey have his stupid little fantasy. What harm could it cause?

Trip had no idea that, that right there would end up being the million dollar question.

Glancing at his watch, Jonathan was disheartened to see that it was already close to 9pm. Trip had been missing for between eighteen and twenty four hours now!

Jonathan now knew that he had at least left the hotel room of his own volition but with no idea what time he had left the bar, the captain could only go by the time he'd gone to sleep and the time he'd woken up and discovered Trip was gone – 9pm last night to 3am this morning! A six hour window!

Archer had started his search at about 3:30am and, in all that time, he hadn't found any clue as to Trip's whereabouts. Not a single one! He could be hurt, or worse. Trip never did well in the heat, and this humidity made it even more dangerous! The consistent rain wouldn't be doing him any favours, either! Jonathan had paused his search throughout the city to purchase an umbrella; Trip likely wouldn't have had that luxury.

The search had been long and tedious, with Archer getting more and more frustrated with each passing minute! He had no idea where his starting point should be, how was he supposed to find the correct route to the finish line? How was he supposed to find Trip!?

Wait a minute. Starting point! That was it! He'd go to the first place he and Trip had visited after arriving here – the diner! It wasn't much but it was something, and Jonathan latched onto it like a lifeline!

As he made his way hurriedly down the block, he was so lost in thoughts of Trip, he didn't notice the squeal of tires as a police car pulled up to the curb next to him. He also failed to hear both the slamming door and the voice calling out someone's name from behind him.

"Pride. Pride!"

Jonathan just made it to the door of the diner and closed his umbrella when someone grabbed his arm and spun him around, not with an excessive amount of force but not gently either. Jonathan regarded the young man with confusion.

He looked to be in about his mid-twenties. But, even with the rivulets of water running off the brim of the ball cap which read 'New Orleans Police' on the front, Jonathan could see that the eyes were haunted like those of someone older – containing a lot more experience with the more abysmal, detestable, and wretched side of humanity than most men his age.

Being careful not to instigate another unfortunate conversation like the one with the waitress at this very diner the day before, Jonathan said simply, "Can I help you?"

"Can you help me? Can you help me?! Yeah, Pride, you can help me! You can stop askin' 'round the department about me!"

"I'm, uh, sorry…?" Jonathan said awkwardly. Then added more confidently, "It won't happen again." He needed to get back to searching for Trip because he couldn't shake the feeling that he was on a timetable here. He just couldn't put his finger on why.

The longer Trip stayed missing, the less likely it was that his little excursion was voluntary… But it was still possible. After all, he had told Jonathan that he hadn't really wanted to go home yet and, despite Jonathan's protective streak, Trip Tucker was still a grown man who had a right to make his own decisions - however, to be completely honest, Jonathan was not above knocking his friend out and folding him over his shoulder to take him back to their own century if he had to!

Separating while in a strange era, when they could be brought home at any moment without warning was dangerous, to say the least, and Trip wouldn't risk it. Not when it was risking the captain at the same time. Because he would know better than anyone that Captain Jonathan Archer doesn't leave anyone behind – especially when that someone is Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker III… although, the chief of engineering may not be aware of that last part.

Besides, Jonathan's gut told him Trip's reluctance to return home was not the reason for his disappearance… and it certainly wasn't the reason for Jonathan's unease. Something was nipping at his brain. Something that would give him a clue as to where to look. But he was just so exhausted, he was missing whatever that something was…

He was pulled out of his reverie by the police officer, who was speaking again and peering up at him strangely. "Why're you talkin' so funny," the younger man asked, clearly under the impression that he knew him.

Did he and Trip both have doppelgangers in this century? For some reason, that thought gave him pause but before he was able to consider it any further, the volatile young man in front of him seemed to lose his patience.

"You know what, never mind? I'm through playin' your little mind games or riddles or whatever you wanna call 'em! Vice does not take kindly to nosey people, NCIS agents or not, comin' in and strikin' up conversation with whomever they choose. Jus' because we have a drink together once in a while does not give you the right to interfere in my life, Pride! Got it?"

Jonathan felt the officer's index finger jabbed into his chest to punctuate the final two words, then watched as the young man, clearly flabbergasted andoddly angered by his silence, stalked back to his car, got in behind the wheel, slammed the door and drove off.

Feeling bad for whomever this 'Pride' person was, Jonathan stepped into the diner, thankful to be out of the rain and humidity. A different waitress was on duty, so he just pulled out the tablet again and asked if she had seen Trip at all through the night.

Too tired to really notice the tablet, or just not a tech guru like the owner of the bar, she made no mention of the technology. She focused on the picture instead, her eagerness to help warming Jonathan's heart by several degrees. "He's cute," she said, matter-of-factly. Then her eyes met his and shone with concern. "Are you his dad? Cuz, if you are, the good looks run in the family."

That got a dry chuckle from him. Insult and flattery rolled into one statement. True, he looked at Trip as a surrogate son, but did he really look old enough to be the younger man's father?

His hesitation made her realize what she had said. "Oh, no. I am so sorry. That was supposed to be a compliment." She turned away to put the tray she was holding down on the countertop. "Nice goin', Gillian," she muttered to herself. "First hot guy you meet in who knows how long and you call him old!" Turning to face him again, she sees his small grin and realizes that he'd heard what she just said.

A blush turned her cheeks bright red.

"Don't worry, Gillian – may I call you Gillian?"

She nodded, apparently not wanting to say anything else for fear of embarrassing herself even further.

"The thing is, my friend Trip, he's missing."

"Oh dear! I'm so sorry! When did he go missing?"

"Last night," Jonathan told her. "Have you seen him?"

"Last night? Wow, you don't waste any time, do you? You sure he didn't just go home with someone? A lot of people are lookin' for comfort in the arms of others, especially on a day like today. Even if it's just for a night." Her gaze became pensive and poignant all at the same time. "Can't really blame them, though. On an anniversary of such tragedy."

"No, I can't, Gillian. But Trip and I, well, we're needed back home on urgent business. He wouldn't just run off for the night without telling me. So, please, have you seen him?"

"I haven't, sweetie. I'm sorry. But my shift just started an hour ago, and the girl who was here before me is long gone."

"An hour ago? But you look so…" Jonathan cut himself off rather abruptly, realizing his next words would be anything but polite. Wow, he really needed to get some sleep. His people skills were severely lacking.

"Tired?" she asked. She should have been offended but her smile could have lit up an entire starship.

Captain Jonathan Archer was mesmerized. "I just… I didn't mean…" he stammered, trying desperately to not hurt the feelings of this angel.

She placed a calming hand on his arm. "Don't worry about it, sweetie. Fair play, right? But I got a little guy at home, which means I need to work two jobs to make ends meet..." This time, she was the one to cut herself off. "Wow! Don't I sound like a catch?"

Jonathan smiled. "Actually, you do," he assured her, then shook himself out of his romantic haze. "But I really need to find my friend. Do you know anyone who might be able to help me?"

"Well, look, to be honest, I don't know many people around here. I'm kinda new in town. But Bob, he's our cook, he pretty much knows everyone." She stopped to consider her words. "Not many people seem to want to be known by Bob, however."

Taking in Jonathan's confusion, she explained, "He's a bit of a cold fish, if you know what I mean. He even has the beady little eyes to match," she giggled, looking behind her to make sure Bob was nowhere nearby.

Jonathan froze. 'Beady little eyes'. The guy who had been glaring at Trip. Could he have had something to do with Trip's disappearance?

Gillian mistook his expression for disapproval. "I must sound like a horrible person. He's just a mean SOB, you know? Yelled at my little boy once for spilling his milkshake across the table. I don't know why he was so mad, he wasn't the one who had to clean it up – "

Taking her gently by the elbow, he asked, "Gillian, have you ever seen a man in here wearing a Hawaiian shirt and white shorts?"

She laughed. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific, hon. You just described about fifty percent of the tourists that come in here every day."

"Oh, okay. He had the beady little eyes you just described in Bob…" he paused, thinking back to that first night in the diner, then snapped his fingers as a memory popped to the surface. "He was wearing sandals with white socks that stretched up to the knees!"

"Oh, you mean Farmer Clem?"

"I guess so. I don't know his name. Can you tell me where I can find this 'Farmer Clem'?"

One of her pretty eye brows rose almost to her hairline, signalling to Jonathan that he had once again said something wrong but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was this time.

"No, honey, that's not his name… it's just…" she smiled up at him, mildly amused. "Never mind, it's just an east coast saying" she said kindly. "The guy you're describing, he have a funny accent?"

"I don't know," Jonathan admitted. "I never actually heard him say anything."

"Okay, well, if he is the guy I'm thinking of, he usually comes in here around this time but I haven't seen him yet. He may still show, if you wanna wait for him?"

He checked his watch. Trip had been missing for close to two hours now. Probably even longer depending on how long he waited after Jonathan had fallen asleep.

"I would like that," he told Gillian. "Thank you."

She grabbed a cup towel from behind the counter then, handing him the towel, she showed him to a table. A moment later, she returned with a hot cup of coffee and a slice of pie. He opened his mouth to decline but she held up a hand to stop him. "No arguments. I know you probably don't have an appetite, but you need to keep your strength up to find your friend, right?"

"It's not just that," he said sheepishly. "I left our hotel room in such a rush, I forgot to take my money with me."

"Oh," she replied, caught a little off guard. "Well, then, it's on the house."

"You don't have to – "

"Didn't I just say 'no arguments'? Now, eat."

He had to admit, she made a convincing case. If what he suspected turned out to be true, Trip would need him to be strong now more than ever. His thoughts strayed back to when he'd given a similar lecture to an injured Trip when they had been stranded in the desert on the Torothan homeworld.

With a sigh, he decided it would be best to take his own advice – and Gillian's. When he picked up his fork and prepared to dig into the pie, he saw something that lifted his spirits at a time when he truly needed it… the pie was chocolate!

Again, Gillian misinterpreted his hesitation. "We have other kinds, if you prefer. This is just Toby's favourite, so I grabbed it out of habit."

"Toby's your son?" Gillian nodded, a smile of pride touching her lips and spreading up to her eyes. "Then your son has impeccable taste. This was my favourite as a boy, as well. Still is."

Gillian smiled that beautiful smile again. "I hope it's as good as you remember," she said, before walking away to finish cleaning off the few tables that needed her attention.

Jonathan instantly missed her because she was a welcome distraction from the worst case scenarios running around in his mind concerning Trip. The 'what if' possibilities were truly staggering to say the least.

He considered going to the police to get help. Perhaps, find the young police officer who had confronted him a few moments earlier. Maybe he could help find Trip?

But he dismissed that idea almost as fast as he'd thought of it. The animosity in the young man's eyes gave him the feeling his request would not be received well. Besides, the kid clearly knew someone who looked like Jonathan Archer, 22nd century. He would inevitably figure out that he was talking to a stranger, and then what? Jonathan tells him he's from the future? Oh yeah, that would go over really well.

Trip would likely suggest he tell the young officer that he's merely an evil twin, but that wouldn't work either. Not in real life, anyway.

No, he was in this alone. He was Trip's only hope.

And, dang, if that didn't scare the crap out of him!

TBC