The next hour or so flew by. It was three o'clock now and the two young men were still just relaxing on the sunny balcony, neither having moved a muscle for a good while unless it was to lift a drink to their lips or to swat the occasional fly away. They hadn't been talking about anything in particular, just flitting between random subjects that the two had a common interest in, a lot more than Mitch would have first suspected.

It would be fair to say Mitch was definitely feeling buzzed. He had only had the one drink but Scott had not held back on the alcohol to juice ratio. His head was pleasantly light. Eventually Scott heaved himself up and stretched his long limbs, giving Mitch a lopsided smile. "Listen, I've gotta tidy the place up but you can just stay out here and chill, Kirstie shouldn't need to be here too long."

Mitch stood up too, perhaps a little hastily as he swayed slightly from the sudden movement, and needed to take a few seconds before he was certain he was steady enough. "Let me help," he insisted, putting a hand on Scott's shoulder and removing it just as quickly when he realised what he was doing. That was undoubtably the cocktail working on him. He never initiated any form of bodily contact with someone he didn't know very well unless it was a handshake. Actually even with people he did know well, such as his dad, it was usually only a handshake.

Lowering his gaze as he felt his cheeks beginning to redden he still continued: "It's the least I can do in repayment for your kindness."

Scott laughed and the smaller man realised that the blond had probably taken no notice of the hand at all. He was speaking to the guy who was practically glued to one of the chefs at work all the time. It's like he's a magnet or something. "You make everything sound like a business transaction Mitchy," Scott teased, beginning to gather up the glasses.

"Old habits die hard I guess," the brunette shrugged, feeling a lot less uncomfortable now.

For a moment he thought Scott was going to argue but then the blond's shoulders slumped in defeat, again in a complete turnaround that made him look like an entirely different person to the cocky persona Mitch was usually met with. "I would appreciate it," he admitted, peering across at his guest with gratitude. "Maybe if you could just collect any bottles and cans you see laying around and let me know if you find any...spillages." He said the word as if it wasn't just drinks that might have been spilled.

Mitch shuddered at the thought but nodded all the same. "On it," he barked out like a soldier and started collecting any object that looked like it had contained alcohol at some point, beginning with the multiple perpetrators on the balcony.

As he bent over to pick up one bottle he felt a large hand squeeze his shoulder, freezing in his motions as it stayed there for what Mitch felt was longer than necessary. He probably looked quite silly, just freeze-framed in his awkward position but for some reason it was even more awkward for him to make eye contact right now.

After another pause the hand left and he could breathe again. "You're a life saver," he heard Scott say before the other man walked off. Mitch wondered what had happened to the savvy, smooth talking business man and why had he been replaced with someone with the charisma of a twelve year old stricken with early on-set puberty.

Methodically he made his way around the house, even checking the bathroom where he found a wine glass in the shower, and making sure that there were no suspicious looking stains on either the furniture or the floor. He liked to think he was doing a good job seeing as cleaning up after a wild party like the one Scott had presumably thrown had never been his speciality.

It wasn't like he wasn't experienced in the partying lifestyle, he was pretty sure he'd created a lot of mess in his time, with people who could afford to go a lot wilder with their partying, the only difference being he wasn't the one who had to clean it up. He and his old work colleagues had people paid to do that. They never had to deal with their own mess.

Despite his inexperience he found that collecting the empty alcoholic containers was actually a good way to sober up and was hoping Scott was experiencing similar effects by cleaning the kitchen, regarding the fact he was supposed to be driving Mitch home later on.

At one point Mitch recreated some sort of horror movie scene, when he checked under the couch to discover multiple beer cans all squashed up underneath. And by multiple he meant more than twenty. There were a lot. Either Scott had been having the same few friends coming over constantly or he had recently thrown a huge party. Maybe that was what Fox was on about when he was talking about the noise? Mitch hoped the kid had a lock on his door so no unwanted drunk guests could ever stagger in.

"Why what a good little worker you are," Scott teased as Mitch walked over to him with his arms full of glass beer bottles.

"Where do these go?" he asked the blond who was trying to simultaneously trying to wipe down the kitchen counters and wash the multiple stacks of dishes.

The man kicked out a grey plastic box from underneath the counter. "Shove them in there, out of the way of prying eyes," he said. "I'm meant to be cutting down on all this but...well, there's always an excuse to just drink away life's problems, isn't there?"

Mitch couldn't deny that, even if he didn't necessarily agree with it. As he straightened back up he noticed another bottle sitting by the sink, one of the few that had been washed out, and went to grab it. As it happened this was the time that Scott also went to pick up one of the plates. There hands connected...and neither boy moved. It wasn't like they were holding hands or anything but Mitch's palm was definitely making contact with Scott's knuckle; it almost seemed like an idiotic handshake Avi would invent.

His hand's warm. Mitch didn't know why he was thinking about the other man's body temperature at that second but it was true; compared to Mitch's cold and slender hand, Scott's was like a mini-heater, warm and welcoming, much like the man himself. It was probably because he'd been washing up though.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his voice coming out mere decibels above a whisper.

"It's okay," Scott replied amicably, pausing before quietly saying: "Can I just?" motioning towards the item he had been aiming for.

"Oh yeah, sure." Mitch snatched his hand away as though Scott's warm hands had suddenly burnt him, bringing a startled expression to the other man's face. Smooth Mitch, he cursed himself. Real smooth.

Luckily he was granted his leave when there was the sound of three firm knocks on the door and Scott checked his watch with a grin.

"On the dot as always," he announced. "Mind getting the door Mitch?"

Mitch obediently trotted off without a word, happy to escape the more embarrassment he had somehow managed to create for himself and he opened the door to discover someone whose identity had been a mystery until now and a sort of puzzle for him to try and work out.

"Hello there," he greeted cordially, like he was Scott's butler or something. The girl in front of him was extremely pretty, even he could appreciate her natural beauty. She had wavy blonde dyed hair and looked to be of Spanish or Mexican descent. She was also dressed in fairly formal attire, nothing too fancy but she kind of reminded him of a teacher with her pale blue shirt and black pants.

She smiled back at him. "Hi."

"Uh, Scott's just in the kitchen," he responded, once again probably seeming a lot more inept at talking than he really was.

"Okay. Thank you." She gave him a small smile and walked through the door, already well familiar with the house.

Mitch stayed by the open door for a moment, only his head twisting to follow her movements. He wasn't being intentionally weird but it was just right now he couldn't stop thinking about Avi pestering Scott about this girl, as if it were his life's mission to go on a date with her. He felt kind of rude for knowing what was being said behind her back.

"Hey girl," Scott greeted in a fake accent, one he often used when imitating the guys at work, coming out of the kitchen with a dish cloth still in his hands. Mitch saw him anxiously scan the living room for any lingering mess before visibly relaxing when he found his guest had done a very good job at tidying.

While Mitch decided now was the time to actually close the front door, Kirstie gave the blond a warm smile as the man quickly flung the cloth back into the kitchen. "Scotty," she acknowledged him, pulling him into a friendly hug, her small frame practically disappearing under his long arms. "How are you?" she asked as they broke apart.

"Same old, same old," Scott answered as the two sat down on the couch, Kirstie reaching into her purse to bring out a file and set it on her lap. "Just working hard and keeping my head down, you know me," Scott continued. Mitch scoffed quietly to himself. Yeah, driving a motorcycle illegally. Very subtle. He wasn't about to rat Scott out here though when he was just as much the guilty party for going along with it, and he remembered what the blond had said to Kevin and Avi, about how he had to impress this Kirstie. He didn't want to step on his toes after he'd been so nice to him.

"How is work?" the young woman asked.

"Stressful." She nodded understandingly and Scott gestured towards his guest. "Luckily we were gifted with some new quality staff this week." She gazed back at Mitch again, who was still standing by the door, and gave him another smile.

"Ah, I see." Then she opened up the file in front of her and Scott's relaxed demeanour was all of a sudden replaced by a tense one. Mitch noticed the blond's breath catch and saw his muscles stiffening up, his one hand grasping the back of the couch tightly. "Where's the Fox?" It was a normal question but there was also a hint of authority to Kirstie's query.

"In his room, he's learnt how these things go by now."

Scott said no more. Kirstie was taking charge of the conversation from now on. She raised her eyebrows with a hopeful expression on her face. "So?" She questioned, leaning slightly forwards him.

In a form of retaliation, Scott in turn leaned back so he was resting against the arm of the couch. He folded his arms. "So," he echoed, looking a lot more moodier all of a sudden, almost like an anti-social teenager. Mitch recognised the look because it was one he had often been accused of himself by his father. It was a look that said: "I'm only listening to you because I have to."

Kirstie sighed. "So anything you want to tell me since our last meeting?" she clarified. "Anything you've been thinking over?"

The blond man made a few clicking noises with his tongue, staring up at the ceiling with a glazed over look. "Ticket prices are going up to watch the Chargers," he mused in a calm voice, running a hand through his hair.

Kirstie was not impressed by that answer. "Scotty," she warned, narrowing her eyes at him, not continuing until she had his full attention. "Have you thought any more about respite?" she asked straight out.

Mitch didn't know what that was or what it meant but whatever it was, the idea of it didn't seem to please Scott.

"No," he huffed. "I haven't had the time," he responded tersely.

The young woman took out a small black notebook and began jotting things down, and Mitch saw Scott's posture immediately change again as he tried to get a glimpse as to what she was writing. "Alright I understand," Kirstie nodded patiently. "But Andrea will want to know before the next review."

"I know, I know, I promise I will give it a think," Scott assured her, although he still sounded like a teenager in trouble with his parents rather than a serious adult. "When's this investigation going to be over? I was told it would only take a few months," he complained.

Kirstie gave him a sympathetic smile. "You should know by now that timekeeping isn't our best quality."

"Huh, yeah," the blond muttered. He cast a glance Mitch's way, momentarily looking like he'd forgotten the small man was still standing in the corner. "You can go and keep Fox company if you want Mitch," he suggested, jerking his head towards the stairs.

It was was more of a request to leave the two of them in private rather than an offer for Mitch, and although his earlier alone time with the four year old had been quite awkward, he figured that things were going to be even more awkward if he stuck around down here.

"Okay," he said, quickly and quietly making his way to the upper floor. The moment he was at the top of the stairs he heard the chatter start up again, only this time, from the tone of their voices, it sounded a bit more argumentative.

Padding along the hallway, he first peeked through the ajar door to Fox's room before entering and saw that the little boy was sat on the carpeted floor, in the midst of an intense lego building session. He stopped when Mitch pushed the door open though, and his face lit up. "Yo!" He gave the man a beaming smile.

Mitch smiled backed. "Yo," he echoed the greeting.

Fox went back to his legos before realising Mitch still hadn't entered through the doorway. "You can come in," he said slowly, like he was unsure if the man would understand him.

Mitch did as he was told and walked in, mindful not to step on any of the boy's possessions. "Can I sit here?" he asked when he was stood directly in front of the child.

"Yep," Fox answered without even looking up, more interested in his toys than where his guest was going to sit. "Are you not allowed to listen either?" he asked as Mitch sat cross-legged opposite him.

"No, I think it's private."

"It's boring," Fox corrected him. "They talk about me a lot so I should be allowed to hear but I'm not."

Mitch hummed in response, not sure whether he should agree with the boy or not. He decided that even if he were allowed to listen in, he would very soon grow bored and want to return to his room because, to put it briefly, the kid had a very nice room, a lot nicer than Mitch's was when he was younger anyway. Sure, he'd had an absolutely massive bedroom and all the toys and gadgets a kid could want but there was something rather...impersonal about his childhood room. After his mom had died all the drawings and little art creations he had made for her had been removed and he didn't bother to make any more, not when there was no one else to admire them. It had been a room purely for the materialistic, with no little touches that actually made your room your own.

Fox's room on the other hand had walls that were covered top to bottom in movie posters - much like downstairs - ranging from age appropriate films such as The Lion King to the not so appropriate such as The Godfather, as well as many colourful drawings and paintings.

There were also a lot of photos everywhere, either in frames or just pinned onto the wall. In one very nice silver frame, on the boy's bedside cabinet, was a photo of a smiling young girl holding a baby. Mitch assumed that the baby was Fox and the girl was his mom, it would certainly explain where the darker hair and skin came from. Except this young girl - for she was young, just a teenager by the looks of it - had never been mentioned before and the baby in the photo clearly had both legs still intact. Mitch scanned the rest of the room for any photos of Scott and this girl together but found none.

Nosiness getting the better of him, he tried to find out a little bit more information. "Do they talk a lot?" he asked the little boy, who was in the process of merging two of the lego figures together to make one huge monstrosity.

The boy paused what he was doing in order to think. "Yeah...umm," he frowned in concentration. "Daddy and Kirstie have been friends for quite long..." He tilted his head at Mitch as he thought some more. "But now she has to talk to him like not just a friend." He shrugged. "That's her job," he explained. "Wanna play exploring?" he asked immediately after.

"Sure, what do we do?" Mitch realised he wasn't going to get much more sense out of a four year old so what better way was there to spend the time than play a game.

"We explore silly!" The little boy laughed. "We...hang on you can be this guy." He handed Mitch a lego Batman but then instantly took it back. "Actually I'll be that one and you can be this one because he's bigger," he concluded, handing Mitch a lego hulk. Not the best comparison but Mitch supposed the line "you wouldn't like to see me when I'm angry" could be applied to him; he did have a sharp tongue when necessary. "And then we have to search for treasure in the room," Fox explained, pulling his car covered duvet off his bed and onto the floor. "We have to search in this cave."

Mitch had never been in a duvet cave before. It was quite exciting.

"What's your guy called?" He pointed to Fox's lego, if he was going to be exploring with a mini hulk under a duvet he might as well immerse himself in the drama of it all.

The boy gave him a toothy grin, happy Mitch was taking things seriously. "Umm...Snake, like the video game man who sneaks around a lot," he decided. "What's yours called?"

Mitch studied the angry green plastic man, pondering on what fitted him best. "Sia." He nodded in approval at his own choice. Two nice sibilant names for us.

"See ya?" Fox questioned.

"No, she's a singer," Mitch told him. "She sings the: "Baby I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight!" song." He didn't like to brag, but he had fucking nailed that line. It was rare he had a chance to showcase the results of his many vocal lessons as a child.

His little example tune had also helped Fox realise who he was on about. "Oh right!" The boy exclaimed enthusiastically. "I love cheap thrills!" he sang out, adding on to Mitch's chorus. Mitch was impressed. This kid is certainly on the ball when it comes to pop culture.

Names chosen, the youngster lifted up the duvet and placed it over his head. "Okay then let's go on an adventure Sia!" He giggled, voice coming out muffled from his new location.

An adventure indeed. Right, well, like he'd been telling himself all day, there was a first time for everything, even playing make believe with a child he'd only known a few hours.

"Right behind you Snake!" he called out, diving under the duvet too.

Time passes quickly when you're having fun, especially when you're relishing in a form of play usually only associated with children. Mitch couldn't remember that last time he had felt so carefree and silly, crawling around on his hands and knees, putting on funny voices, and searching for objects that could pass as treasure.

The messing around ended when he heard the shuffle of footsteps and a small cough, and he wriggled back out into the real world, face red and hair a mess, to discover Scott standing there.

"You two seem to be having fun." The blond was leaning against the doorframe, signature wry smirk on his face, and Mitch wondered how long he'd just been watching two giggling mounds move under the duvet. Checking the clock he was shocked to learn that he had just spent nearly half an hour playing with toys.

"We've been finding treasure Daddy!" Fox shouted, also exiting the duvet cave and scrambling over to his father.

"Wow! Treasure!" Scott gushed in awe. "What did you find?" he asked, looking to Mitch.

"A candy bar, a stuffed rabbit and some marbles." It had been quite a haul.

"Ah yes marbles, the greatest treasure of all."

Fox laughed and attempted to climb up his father's legs. "Have you finished talking?"

"Yep, it was just a quick one today. Kirstie's even agreed to keep an eye on ya while I take Mitchy boy home."

"Yay! I'm gonna show her my new leg!" the boy exclaimed, grabbing the prosthetic in his hand rather than attaching it in it's proper place. "I'm coming Kirstie!" he shouted, rushing out of the room, taking a tumble right outside, getting up straight away and charging towards the stairs.

"Come carefully," Kirstie advised from below, clearly worried the youngster was going to fall down the stairs as a result of his eagerness but used enough to the boy that she trusted him to get downstairs on his own.

Scott had barely batted an eyelid during that whole commotion, and Mitch noticed the man in front of him was a man a lot more drained than earlier; any buzz he had gained from his own drink was now gone, leaving in it's place a pair of tired blue eyes. "Hope that wasn't too stressful for you," he sighed, gesturing towards the mess behind Mitch.

"No, not at all," Mitch quickly responded. "He's a great kid," he assured him. He really was. Mitch didn't usually like kids when they were that age, preferring them when they were less...messy, but with Fox, he hadn't being able to keep a smile from his face.

"Yeah..." Scott scratched at his stubble, blinking slowly a few times as if he was trying to gather up his thoughts, before he turned around. "Well then, I guess we should get going. You're probably itching to get out of this crazy house."

Not really. But Mitch supposed he had definitely outstayed his welcome.

Following the tall man back downstairs, they found the other two sat on the couch watching Spongebob on the television.

"Bye," Mitch called out to them as he made his way to the door.

Jerking his head their way at the farewell, Fox ran over to them, looking slightly distressed. "Are you coming back?" he hastily asked Mitch, eyes wide with worry.

Thankfully Scott answered that question for him, saying happily: "Course he is metal man. He's part of the Mestizo family now."

The little boy appeared relieved. "Okay that's good, I was just wanting to be sure I would see him again." He bounded back over to Kirstie, waving to Mitch as he went. "Bye Mitchy!" Great, now I have two of them calling me by that name.

Giving Kirstie another polite nod, he walked after Scott, who already had his motorcycle parked up outside, and was graced with a spare helmet this time. They were both silent as they jumped or clumsily clambered on the bike and Scott started it up, Mitch twisting to watch the house grow smaller and smaller until they turned a corner and it disappeared.

The journey back was a lot more relaxed than earlier, mainly because they stuck to the quiet streets and there wasn't much traffic about. Scott also did him the favour of driving quite slowly, whether it was because he was concerned about his blood alcohol limit like Mitch was or if it was because he was deep in thought after whatever his conversation with Kirstie had been about, Mitch couldn't tell.

Within twenty minutes they were back at his after a few simple directions from Mitch and the smaller man felt his mood already dipping when he cast his gaze to the place he now had to call home.

Once again the time it took Mitch to dismount, take his helmet off and sort out his hair was enough time for Scott to dismount, open up the top boxes, take out the paint tins, carry them to Mitch's front door, walk back and get on the motorcycle again. "So...I'll come round at about nine tomorrow?" he queried, reminding Mitch of the offer he had made him earlier. "That gives you a bit of a lie in."

Mitch's shoulders sagged. "That's what you call a lie in?" he whined.

"Hey, I'm just trying to ease you into this little to no sleeping schedule," Scott countered. "It'll give me time to help you with any painting you might have left and take you to the restaurant for a little one on one," he finished with a cheeky wink at Mitch.

The other man rolled his eyes. "Nine o'clock it is then," he reluctantly agreed.

"You won't regret it baby." Oh hell no were they going to move onto that nickname. Mitch's glares at the pet name only made Scott's grin widen further though. I really need to find out what really annoys you. But he figured he could save that for another time.

"Thank you, again," he said to Scott, who just waved him off.

"Alright enough with the thanking, it's getting old." He tilted his head, eyes wandering behind Mitch. "He yours?"

Mitch spun around to see what Scott was looking at, and discovered that there was a certain tiny hairless cat waiting by the gateway, rubbing his head against the metal fence. Huh, well there's someone to welcome me back at least.

"Oh um...not really."

"Seems to think he is," Scott speculated as the little cat ran up to them and started walking between Mitch's legs.

"Yeah," Mitch smirked. "Well...we'll have to see about that."

"Hey there little one," Scott cooed, holding his hand out towards Wyatt, and smiling when the cat licked at his fingers. "Take care of Mitch for me until tomorrow," he instructed, and Mitch was amused at how affectionate the big, strong blond man was being with the creature.

Giving Wyatt a farewell pat, he sat back up to say his goodbyes to Mitch. There was a moment when neither was too sure how they were going to do this until Scott said with a smirk: "Douchey bro handshake?"

Mitch shrugged. "Sure," he replied, also smirking.

They carried out the move with a practiced ease, Scott being used to doing them all the time at work and Mitch had shaken his hands with his fair share of frat boys in the past. Still, they were both laughing afterwards at how dumb they both thought they looked.

Scott picked up his helmet and shoved it over his head. "I'll see ya tomorrow," his muffled voice said, before the bike roared into life again and he was off.

Mitch waited until the man had vanished before heading to his apartment, more to delay the chore of manual labour than anything else. The moment he set foot through his door, he cracked open his first tin of paint. He knew if he sat down he would lose all motivation to do any work. Wyatt watched with fascination as Mitch poured the paint into a tray and dipped the roller into it, starting the painting in the hallway.

After a few minutes Mitch wished he'd unpacked his radio because painting he'd discovered, was very boring. Having covered less than a few feet of wall, his mind began to wander to the day he had just experienced. It was all a bit surreal, like he wouldn't be surprised if he woke up and found it had all just been a dream, one that he would laugh about. Scott invited me to his house? And he has a son? And I had a good time? And he's coming over tomorrow? A dream seemed more likely to him.

However even though the day had been so good and Scott had been so kind, now that he was on his own again, stood alone in the hallway of his tiny apartment with his belongings still in boxes, the comedown started. He'd been on such a high earlier that now his reality was emphasised even more; and he couldn't stop the feeling of jealously seeping in, a big green angry monster. A feeling of not being good enough, of not being worth anything to anyone in the world. He knew the feeling was completely unjust. He knew it wasn't Scott's fault; the guy was just going about his everyday business as always. He didn't realise the effect he'd been having on Mitch the whole time.

Why can't I have just a fraction of what he's got? It wasn't like Mitch had never worked hard to try and make a good life for himself, like the one he had described to Scott, and yet here he was, a failure. According to Scott his own ideology was a far fetch from where he was now, but at least he was on the right track. He had plans at least. Mitch wasn't sure what his plans were still.

This plan of theirs though...this stupidly crazy and risky plan. It was a similarly risky plan on a much larger scale that had landed Mitch in the doghouse back in New York. Who would have thought that another opportunity would present itself so soon? Of course it wasn't his plan to be involved in, he was just a lowly prep cook, he had no control over how this situation panned out in his current position. At the moment he highly doubted that Scott and whoever else was in on it - he was guessing most of the kitchen staff if not all - had the right motivation and drive to go through with it. Like Scott had stressed earlier, they weren't business savvy folk, they were just people with a dream.

Mitch on the other hand knew about this stuff. This was his speciality, even if he didn't exactly have much experience in the art of running a restaurant he was pretty sure he would be able to cut off any loose ends with a blackmail play. But who are they to listen to me? They didn't trust him enough yet. Maybe they trusted him enough to leave him alone at the grill for a while but absolutely not enough as a trusted colleague and friend. At the moment Scott was the only one who Mitch could say had broken that acquaintance barrier and moved them into the friendship zone. But that was only because the guy hadn't really given him a choice.

But if there was the smallest chance that he could be involved in this scheme, a scheme that did have a strong backbone, one that could turn into something great, surely he had to try and get himself involved in it somehow. It's what I'm good at. And if Scott really meant what he said about me being part of the family then why shouldn't I squirm myself into the plan?

Yeah, he decided. At the next opportune moment, he was going to broach the subject of this plan, see if there was a way to turn it to his advantage somehow. I may yet get to show my dad what I'm made of.

Feeling a lot better with that in mind, Mitch was able to to settle back into painting, except...

Why are there white paw prints on the floor?

"Wyatt!" he yelled, realisation setting in. "You better get your scrawny ass back here right now!"

Been listening to the new Christmas album while writing this!