A week had passed since his random get-together with Scott and not much had happened in between then and now; the Monday of the following week. He had gone to work, he had completed all of what was asked of him, he had tried to keep himself to himself mainly for self-protection services, and he had tried his best to block out Avi's ridiculous jokes.

As he had promised, Scott had turned up at his door just after nine o'clock on the Sunday - so much for a day of rest - with a bright smile on his face and a kind of barely contained energy like a dog eager to go for a long awaited run. Mitch was pleased to say he hadn't done so badly himself the previous day when it came to painting, as he had finished with the hallway and his bedroom. He hadn't really wanted Scott going inside his room anyway and nosing around, and it meant he could also finally unpack everything in there, including a treasured framed photo of his Mom with a four year old him on her lap.

Different times. Such different times those days were. Sometimes Mitch just found himself staring at that photo, silent cries escaping from his lips, tears falling for the life that was cut short all so sickeningly by a trigger happy psychopath. She had been so full of life and so loving and so giving and then she had been lying in a casket and he had been throwing earth on top of the shiny wood, his tiny hand barely able to grab more than a few grains of soil.

And in his darkest hours he also cried for himself. Selfish as it seemed, he pitied that young boy in the old photo, the one who had the biggest grin on his face, because that kid was going to turn into him. Who knows who he might have been if his mom was still alive today? Who knows what he might have achieved? But instead that little boy, who had always seen so much light in the world, had become the mistrusting, hard-headed, pessimistic man Mitch saw every time he looked in a mirror, a man he at times hated.

Maybe he would have even been someone similar to Scott. Someone who appeared to practically emit beams on sunlight to everyone around him and who's optimism was a wonder to behold. Their upbringings must have been vastly different to have created men with personalities and beliefs as contrasting as their own.

If the blond was surprised by just how cramped Mitch's apartment was he didn't let it show as he was invited in. After a few brief pleasantries Scott had set to work laying some white sheets he had brought with him on the floor of the living room, an idea Mitch should have probably thought of before he had a cat trailing paint around the floor yesterday. Mitch had set to work making them both some strong coffee before getting down to painting also.

The two didn't talk about anything in particular, the conversation going much the same way as it had gone on Scott's balcony the other day, but this time Mitch did dare to ask a few more personal questions. It only seemed fair seeing as Scott already knew a fair bit about his life in New York. From their painting session he had learned that the guy had grown up in a small place called Descanso, a backcountry area of the Mountain Empire of San Diego County. A close knit community with a population of less then fifteen hundred that Mitch found hard to even imagine growing up in.

Scott had told him he was the youngest of three, having two older sisters who were six and eight years older than him. That was another fact Mitch envied about him; he had always dreamed of having a sibling when he was younger, and knew his parents had probably planned on having more children if things had turned out how they should have.

When Mitch had tried probing any further however, the blond had immediately flipped the conversation back around to focus on the younger man, and had begun asking him a multitude of stupid, elementary age questions such as "What's your favourite color?", "What's your favourite season?" and "What's your favourite pizza topping?". As long as he wasn't pestering Mitch about his old job, the smaller man felt he couldn't really complain and so the two had talked incessantly about absolutely nothing until all of a sudden it seemed, their task was complete.

It had certainly gone a lot quicker than the night before and Mitch was genuine in his appreciation for Scott's help, and even more so when the blond kept his promise about taking Mitch to the kitchen early in order to brush up on the younger man's skills.

It was weird, being in the empty and quiet kitchen after only ever seeing it filled to the brim with staff and basking in it's own heat. Scott didn't have long before the other weekend staff would begin arriving for their shifts but it was enough time for him to show Mitch proper knife technique and etiquette for chopping up different vegetables, herbs and meats, as well as showing him how best to make certain salads an entrees.

Although perhaps what was most useful were the insiders tips Scott had picked up over the years, knowledge that you would only know from having worked in the same place for as long as he had, such as how to best prioritise when you were given several commands at once or how to predict what influx of orders might be coming in depending on the day, the time and the weather, so you could be somewhat prepared.

It was all very helpful and Mitch took careful note of each and every one.

And so during the following week he had put all these new skills into practice and had found that the work was getting gradually easier, or at least it came more naturally to him. With his newfound less uptight attitude at work it had also lead to more friendly conversations with the other chefs and cooks, especially Kevin who he often found himself working in close location to. The line cook was always eager for a chat.

Yeah, even though he still didn't feel like he quite fitted in yet, it was still way better than it had been on his first day. He was starting to find himself smiling more during work than frowning. Still sweated just as much though; wasn't much he could do about that.

"Hey Mitchy boy!" He jumped slightly at his work station - the salamander for now, which was kitchen slang for a high temperature broiler - as a hand grasped his shoulder. "It's been too long!" Turning to the bearded man, he gave Avi a welcoming smile.

"Morning Avi," he greeted. He wanted to add a "you're late" but decided he still wasn't quite as confident around this superior as he was with Scott.

The man gave him his signature smile while he fussed about with some kitchen utensil Mitch had never seen before. "How was my favourite little prep cook's weekend then?" he asked. "You go out, meet any hot guys?"

He raised his eyebrows a few times and Mitch just rolled his eyes. Scott had informed everyone last week in a very unsubtle way of his preferred choice in partner and ever since half the staff had been going out their way to try and set him up on dates with guys they knew. He was basically getting the opposite treatment to Avi with his obsession over Kirstie.

"No," he told the chef as he moved on from the broiler to cutting up some tomatoes and radishes for a salad. "I stayed at home in my underwear and watched reruns of Grey's Anatomy."

That answer elicited a hearty laugh from the older man, something Mitch was finding it easier and easier to achieve. "What a fascinating life you do lead young man," Avi said with an amused shake of his head.

"Hey," Mitch shrugged casually, "you haven't lived until you've experienced doing simply nothing for a whole day Avi." He finished with one batch of vegetables and swiftly moved onto the next, his hands almost doing the thinking for him.

Damn, I'm not half bad at this now!

Beside him Avi let out another loud cackle of laughter. "Oh believe me I know what that's like, that's my high school experience you're talking about right there!" He finished fiddling with whatever it was he had been holding and readjusted his chefs hat slightly. "Well then time for work, can you prep some-"

"Already done it." Mitch interjected his reply, motioning towards some corn and black beans that had been prepared after he put Scott's tips into good use. He regretted interrupting instantly as Avi's face froze into one of surprise, the man himself stunned into silence by Mitch's response.

Idiot! Why the fuck did you say that? Mitch wanted to kick himself for his own insolence. I can't get too relaxed, he told himself. I'm still just a nobody here.

He steeled himself ready for a berating from Avi but instead he got a slightly astounded, "Good job Mitch," and he turned in shock to see Avi looking in satisfaction at his work. "Very good job," the man repeated, giving Mitch a small smile and a respectful nod before heading off with a shout directed at one of the line cooks.

Mitch was a bit too astonished to restart what he had been doing and let out his own laugh of surprise and relief after that unexpected praise. Never had he believed it possible to feel so pleased about being told he'd done a good job at shucking some corn.

"Told you practice pays off," a quiet voice murmured from behind.

Mitch smiled to himself, picking up his knife again and starting up the process of chop, chop, chopping once more. "It hasn't made perfect yet though," he pointed out, as Scott leaned against the worktop, notebook full of knowledge and imagination in his hands, his forehead already having a slight gleam to it as Mitch was sure his did too.

"Nothing does," Scott countered, before giving Mitch a questioning look. "Did you really just sit at home all weekend?"

"Well now that I have my beautifully painted new walls to admire, why would I ever want to leave?"

"I guess there's no arguing with that then," the blond chuckled. "If you ever do find yourself getting bored though, you've got my number, I'll always be game to meet up, providing there's nothing going on with the Fox."

The thought of that appealed to Mitch a lot more than it did two weeks ago. Spending time with Scott, and maybe more importantly Fox, actually filled him with something not too dissimilar to excitement.

I'm like a first grader, Mitch thought, getting excited over hanging out with my buddies at the weekend. Maybe that's why he and Fox had clicked so well. Also getting closer to Scott meant getting closer to being more involved in the little blackmail plans the others had been plotting.

"Alright," he agreed readily to Scott's suggestion. "I might take you up on that offer." His thoughts now on a certain little boy, Mitch checked up on the blond man's son, asking: "By the way how's Fox's leg...fitting in?"

"Good thanks, he's stopped complaining about it anyway," Scott replied as he scribbled down notes, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Now he's pestering me about buying him a sports one so he can run faster for soccer." He let out a half-hearted laugh. "Well that's not going to be happening any time soon, the other one cost me my own metaphorical arm and leg, even with health insurance."

He finished his note-taking and Mitch found a pair of blue eyes gazing fixedly at him, flitting around as if they were taking in every detail of the smaller man's appearance. "Hasn't quit asking about you either. Wanting to know when he gets to see you again," he informed him, still not altering his line of sight. "We're definitely gonna have to do something together just to keep him off my back."

Mitch smiled and forced his own attention back to the vegetables on the chopping board. "That's weird. Kids never usually like me that much," he speculated. "I scare them I think."

"Yeah...well we're talking about the kid who wants the dinosaurs to win in Jurassic Park."

Mitch's eyes crinkled in amusement. Yeah, I can well imagine that.

"I see then, I can't go upsetting four year old boys. It's a date." He didn't know why he had said those exact words, they had just sort of slipped out automatically and left him startled; that wasn't the type of self-confident banter he usually indulged in.

Why would I say that? When have I ever in my whole life said that?! He felt like a dumb character from a cheesy rom-com, except in this scenario there was no rom and he was far too often the target of the com.

Scott didn't linger on his choice of words however, casually putting his notebook into his jacket pocket and clicking his tongue in agreement. "You bet it is," he said, pointing both index fingers towards the younger man as he backed away. "I'll catch you later, keep up the awesome work Mitchy,"

After any more embarrassment was averted, he liked to think he did keep up the awesome work, and Mitch found that engaging in conversation with the others was becoming easier, which in turn made his job more enjoyable. Enjoyable. That was a word he hadn't expected to associate with kitchen work.

As the day grew older there was little time for idle chit-chat as the midday orders rushed in. Mitch was put on "meat duty" which basically meant he was stuck in front of a fryer, the main target of the sweltering heat with added oil spitting at him, and he found himself yet again talking to Kevin, allowing the older man to regale him with tales of his childhood days.

"Me and Avi bro, we've known each other since we were this high," Kevin informed him, holding a hand just below his waist. He had just finished reminiscing about a pastime known as pool hopping, of which Mitch was told kids would sneak out at night and jump over garden fences or walls, taking a dip in as many private pools as they could before they got caught or ran out of nearby pools.

I wouldn't put it past some of these guys still doing it.

"Grew up on the same street," Kevin continued to talk about his friendship with the sous chef. "Went to the same school, even kissed the same girl at Prom who wasn't either of our dates and ended up spending the night together!" He paused and thought about what he'd just said, giving Mitch a funny look. "Not in that way though!"

"I wasn't saying anything." Mitch was quiet for a moment before giving Kevin a side glance and wryly saying, "You would make a very cute couple."

The man laughed loudly and gave him a friendly nudge. "Shut up fool." Mitch grinned. Being called a fool by Kevin meant you were alright in his books.

"What was your prom like then?" the man asked, curiosity as clear as a bell.

"Oh." Mitch hummed, trying to think up an excuse until giving up and announcing the truth. "I didn't go."

He knew there was a lot worse he could have admitted to but he was just starting to get to a point with Kevin where he felt like the man wasn't perceiving him as some sort of anomaly like the others did. Even Scott, who he had become closer to than any of them, occasionally looked at him like he was a kind of New York ethereal being, not just a normal person.

"You didn't go? How come?" Kevin didn't sound judgemental at all but Mitch knew his inquisitiveness was too strong to accept anything but a full answer.

"Me and people just didn't really see eye to eye. I was kind of a loner in high school believe it or not."

"Hmph yeah, something tells me it was more by choice than happenstance."

I can't really argue with that.

"It wasn't like I didn't want to be friends with people," he insisted. He had always viewed his peers, laughing and joking with one another while he sat alone in a corner, with envy. "But a lot of the time just making no effort at all to talk to people was easier than talking to others and getting rejected," he explained, surprised by how tight his chest was getting with a hurt he had thought was long since extinguished.

"Didn't you go into advertising? Isn't that all about talking to people and charming them?"

"Mhmm," Mitch confirmed. "But it's all," he wafted a hand in front of him, "it's all face-value. You can say one thing to a client's face and feel another, it doesn't matter; it's not a terribly deep relationship you're entering into with them."

"But trying to make true friends means revealing a lot more vulnerable side of yourself," Kevin spoke up.

"Yeah." Mitch nodded in approval at the man's observation. "Precisely."

Kevin was quiet for once, his face one of contemplation. "I don't know what might happen next year," he began thoughtfully, voice more hushed than Mitch had ever heard it that he had to strain slightly to hear him over the noise of the kitchen. "Or next week," Kevin carried on. "Or the next day, or even the next minute, and yet I still go forward. Because I trust. And because I have faith," he said to him with conviction.

He gave his younger colleague a small pat on the arm. "Try having a bit more faith Mitchy," he encouraged. "It'll do you the world of good." And then he was silent after that, allowing Mitch to take in his words of wisdom, the two just continuing on with their individual tasks in a comfortable peace.

Mitch really did try to take those words to heart. Even with his joking around and almost constant chatter, he could tell Kevin was a very intelligent guy and hell, he knew he could probably benefit from having a little bit more faith now and then, but the problem with faith in his mind was that it also required a great deal of luck, of putting your trust in the unknown. Having luck definitely isn't my strong suit.

Kitchen life carried on as normal for the time being, but just as the orders were slowly dying down and Cesar had taken a brief break leaving Scott in charge, Mitch sensed not all was quite right, or rather he felt it. He felt what he thought at first was a gust of air caught up around his feet, and shifted is footing slightly, assuming someone had just gone out the back door. But within a few seconds of that the light brushing against his ankles turned into a definite tapping on his foot.

What the-?

Mitch frowned.

Mitch looked down.

Mitch screamed.

"AHH!" He yelled out in horror extremely loudly, probably deafening everyone in close range, and leapt for his life from the intruder straight into a much larger body. "What the fuck?" he cried out, not caring that he was gripping onto Scott very tightly right now, almost pulling himself into the other man's hold in his state of shock.

"Quick Avi! Get her before she cooks herself!" Kevin fretted as a startled dark brown chicken flapped around, getting dangerously close to the food and the burning hot water.

"C'mon Bey, c'mon," Mitch watched absolutely dumbfounded as Avi began dashing about the kitchen. "This way girl," the man tried to coax her but the chicken was having none of it. In fact while he was preoccupied with the bird another appeared out of thin air and started giving Kevin the same treatment.

Mitch had to check he wasn't dreaming as he watched two fully grown men be outdone by two flightless birds. He heard and felt Scott sigh behind him as two hands squeezed his rigid shoulders.

"You alright?" the blond checked, his calm attitude evidence to prove he knew about these chickens.

"Yeah, no..." Mitch took a deep breath in. "Why?" he screeched.

"Hold on a sec," Scott brushed past him and marched over to the madness. "Get them out of here guys," he ordered, taking charge. "If Cesar sees them inside he's gonna go loco."

"We're trying to Scotty," Avi exasperated while the other staff bar Mitch started to laugh hysterically. "But as you can see these tykes are not exactly the best followers of instructions," the bearded chef growled as his catching attempts were foiled again and the chicken scuttled off round the corner in an awful fuss.

"Jeez, do I have to do everything around here?" Scott groaned and slowly walked towards one of the birds, gently ushering it into open space, leaving only to go and find the other one and guide it to the same spot. "Stand by there so they don't escape," he told Kevin and Avi. "C'mon out with you both," he said, enticing the chickens to move by slowly sweeping his arms forward and, as if they were well trained dogs, the two intruders paraded their way back outside out of view, followed closely by Scott, and Mitch heard the sound of a gate being closed.

"All you had to do was keep them in the coop for God's sake guys," the blond chastised his friends for their carelessness.

"We just wanted to give them a little tour of their new home," Avi explained, pulling a face like Mitch imagined Fox might when he was in trouble with his dad. "They didn't contaminate anything I promise!"

"Even so," Scott sighed and gave the still startled prep cook an apologetic look. "Mitch, Lacey, clean this place down," he instructed, gesturing to the floorspace where the two birds had been running laps.

Mitch did as he was asked to immediately, eager for a distraction after he'd just been jump scared by a freaking chicken. "Sorry Scotty," Kevin apologised. "Good thing your farm boy skills came in handy."

"I'm not a farm boy," the blond said as he noticed Mitch pause in his mopping out of curiosity of Kevin's statement. "Don't listen to them."

Mitch nodded, continuing to clean the floor, before saying as nonchalantly as he could manage: "Was it just me or were there two chickens in here a moment ago?"

Scott chuckled and ordered everybody who had paused back to work. "There were," he confirmed. "They're called," he struggled to remember, coming up blank. "What did you guys decide on?" he asked the dynamic duo, who were busy trying to catch up with orders that had been temporarily put aside.

"Art, after Art Garfunkel from Simon and Garfunkel," Avi announced proudly. Mitch could have guessed that from the amount of times the man would burst into one of their songs.

"And Beyonce, after the Queen." That not so much. Never had Kevin pinned as a Beyonce fan.

But anyway, names were actually not what he was confused about.

He gave the three an incredulous look. "Yeah I wasn't really concerned with how I was supposed to address them, more why the fuck they were pecking at my shoes?" He paused as a horrific thought entered his brain. "You're not gonna make me kill them or something are you?"

"No!" Avi exclaimed. "How could you even say that?" he asked Mitch like the younger man had proposed to do it.

"Art and Beyonce are purely for egg laying purposes," Kevin clarified.

"Don't only females lay the eggs?" Mario called out from across the kitchen.

"Yeah they're both female," Kevin replied.

"Art's a female?" the other cook questioned. "Art's not a girl chicken's name dude!"

"Hey leave him alone!" Avi was quick to defend his choice of name. "He can be whoever he wants!"

"Maybe he's genderfluid," Mitch drawled from his crouched position of the floor, where he'd discovered a stain that may or may not have been leftovers from their recent visitors. Either way he wasn't taking any chances.

"Yes, exactly!" Avi gave him an appreciative glance. "See? Mitchy here gets it."

"I'm not even close."

"Well we would tell you but it's kind of...it's kind of this little passion project we've been cooking up," Kevin hesitantly said.

"He knows guys, I've already told him."

Both Avi and Mitch turned to the blond in surprise. One surprised he'd admitted to going behind their backs and the other surprised he'd had the cheek to do so in the first place. "You told the new guy without consulting us first Scotty?"

"Oh don't give me that shit! You would have spilled sooner or later," Scott retorted playfully to Avi. "Mitchy here's a trustworthy guy aren't you?" he asked whilst stepping around the man still crouched on the floor.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna rat you out or anything," he made the promise to Avi and Kevin, who both shared a look with each other, reminding Mitch of a pair of twins he knew from college.

Whatever was said in their wordless conversation, they apparently came to the conclusion that the younger man had earned the privilege to be allowed in on their crazy plans. "So chickens then," Kevin began, giving Avi the go-ahead to continue.

"It's all part of our grand scheme!" his friend willingly informed. "Fresh produce on sight! Organic and healthy and free range and all that!"

Kevin rolled his eyes at the other man's overexcitement but he too was visibly eager about the idea. "Obviously we'll have more than those two but this was just kind of a practice."

"It was my idea!" Avi boasted.

"And I know a bit or two about caring for livestock. Those two," Scott jerked his head to the doorway where the hens had left, "Rhode Island Red's; I'm used to them. Tough little critters, known as a backyard breed, can lay up to two fifty eggs per year if you treat 'em proper." He narrowed his eyes at the older two. "I wasn't a farm boy though, it was just a summer job," he clarified once again.

"Cesar's happy with this? Antonio?" I can't believe either would ever agree to this.

"Cesar's down just as long as they don't end up in the kitchen," Scott said, fixing a glare on Kevin and Avi. "And Antonio hasn't got a clue, he never comes around the back and is hardly here anyway." Another glare was sent towards the troublesome chefs. "And it's going to stay that way," he warned.

Avi held his hands up in submission. "Yeah dude."

Scott nodded. "C'mon, quickly!" He clapped his hands to rally people up. "We've wasted enough time as it is."

Soon everyone was back in the swing of things and by the time the executive chef returned you would never have known anything had gone awry. Scott could be professional when he wanted to and had done a good job at getting the kitchen back on track after all the feathered entertainment.

Mitch had nearly finished his cleaning of the floor and was maybe partially guilty of taking longer than necessary - seeing as Lacey had already finished her half ten minutes ago - in order to keep him away from the furnace of a fryer. Cesar had stopped next to him on his rounds and given him a questioning stare.

"What you mopping the floor for?" he asked and even though it wasn't an accusation it sure felt like one. Mitch had met and worked with some pretty intimidating people during his old line of work, but no man or woman had had the presence or powerful aura that the Mexican man commanded. He could be truly frightening especially when a dish was "86'd" (had run out) or when meals were "dying on the pass" (food that had been left so long on the pass because waitstaff were either too slammed or too lazy to pick it up that it was going cold).

He had barely spoken to Mitch so far but when he had it had been with the gruff tone he seemed to use with everyone. Actually the only person he had ever seen the man crack a smile at was Scott and that was after the man had made a fool out of Mitch by getting him to search the kitchen frantically one day after shift ended for a multitude of items that included a left-handed spatula, a bacon stretcher and a grill extender, all of which were fabricated from the blond's evil mind.

Mitch realised the exec chef was still waiting on his reply, foot impatiently tapping the shiny floor. "I uh..." Mitch gulped. The easiest thing to say now was the truth but he didn't want to get Avi and Kevin in any trouble. That wouldn't go down too well with the others. Think fast. Thankfully his brain obeyed. "I was told there was nothing for me to do so I wanted to make myself look useful Chef."

Perfect. That shares the blame between us equally and doesn't throw anyone under the bus.

Cesar apparently bought it also, as he tutted a few times and instructed the others: "Find Mitch here something more practical to do than cleaning a perfectly clean floor."

Mitch exhaled in relief and saw Kevin beaming at him as the man came over to "give him something more practical to do".

"Nice one," the man approved.

"Cheers for not ratting on us," he also heard Avi whisper to him as he passed by.

I'm winning them over, Mitch realised with glee. These guys are genuinely not fed up with me yet!

The rest of his day was a blur. Evening drew in and orders sky-rocketed again; they had three - three! - parties of twelve or twelve tops as the others called them, plus a teenage gathering which got very messy when a food fight was initiated. Mitch was glad he wasn't part of the front of house staff who had to deal with that chaos and could happily laugh along with the rest of back of house who got to go home while their colleagues had to tidy up the carnage that had been created.

Back in the locker room the others were clearly getting hyped for a night out on the town, with Avi unable to contain his infectious energy as packed up his bag. "We heading straight to The Den now?" he queried.

The Den, Mitch had gathered, was basically a bar that served alcohol at very low prices on a Monday night, probably because they thought only students would be reckless enough to go out on the first day of the week, and was where the staff of Mestizo's loved to drink the night or early morning away.

"Hell yeah!" Scott exclaimed, just as excited as Avi. "Your turn to pay for a cab Danny," he told the young man with the golden teeth, a twenty one year old who, despite having been offended by Mitch on his first day, greeted him with a hug every morning.

"I paid last time!" he cried out in defiance.

"No I paid after you attempted to pay the driver with hugs."

Avi almost choked on his laughter at that memory. "He's not lying man," he said through tears.

"Fine. Whatever," the boy said, defeated. "Just take my money before I've had too many otherwise I'm not gonna want to part with it."

"You heard the man Mario," Scott instructed. "Me," he grinned wildly, "I'm planning on not remembering a single detail about tonight."

What about Fox? That was Mitch's first thought. Was the four year old staying with someone else tonight then? Scott had mentioned something about having a lady come and look after him until he got home from work but surely that didn't extend into overnight stays.

The blond didn't seem remotely concerned though so Mitch guessed there must be some ulterior system he had worked out. Maybe he's with his mother?

"Woo!" Avi's yelling distracted him from his theorising. "That's what I'm talking about!" The man continued to chant, dancing around the room. "Invite Kirstie," he demanded, stopping in front of Scott.

"Nope," the taller man shoved him away.

"Damn," he grinned at Mitch, "worth a shot." His expression turned expectant at the newest cook. "You up for it Mitch?" The way he said it implied he wouldn't be too upset if the younger man turned them down and Scott affirmed this approach.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he let him know, wanting to make sure Mitch wasn't going to feel pressured into doing anything he didn't want to, a far fetch from when they had all been egging him on to tell a joke that first day. They learnt their lesson from that experience.

Mitch checked the wall clock. It read half past ten. He had to be here again in the morning by half seven at the latest. I guess why even bother going to sleep? Come to think of it, this could be a way to get them to spill more about their plans, providing I'm the one who stays sober enough to listen. "As long as I'm included in that free cab ride home," he smirked at all their surprised faces. "But there's no way I'm gonna cope coming out every week," he warned them.

"Oh neither will we!" Avi told him. "But we make the most of the quiet season while it lasts."

Mitch frowned at him. This is the fucking quiet season?

He felt a hand grip the back of his neck and met Kevin's joyful face with his own unamused one. "Now you're starting to get it," the man declared.

Get what?

On his other side Scott spoke up. "You're definitely one of the gang now Mitchy. Joining us on a night out on a whim." He grinned, "I see that's the risk-taker in you. I like it."

Mitch returned the grin. I suppose it is. Although he had never before changed his plans like that for anything that wasn't business or money related.

Just gotta have a little faith, he told himself, before laughing to himself quietly. And hope this little deviation doesn't get me fired from this job also!

Have to say a quick thanks to FlameTornado for inspiring this little chicken scene XD