Bruce made us some tea after I got back from his mom's humble abode. He was stressed out, and I knew he needed it. I'm more of a java hound myself, so he put on the coffeepot while his tea was brewing. "I'm so worried about Sweetheart," he sighed as he handed me my cup of coffee. "I don't know where she could possibly be." "Do you have any neighbors that might have had a motive to take her?" "No...I live in a dog-loving community," he replied, making a face. "Well...let's look around while we're enjoying our hot beverages, huh? She has to be around here somewhere." So Bruce and I began our search, starting in his living room. We checked under couches, under tables, behind cabinets and bookshelves - anywhere that the frisky feline could fit. We split ways shortly after that. Bruce went to the kitchen, and I went to his bedroom to see what I could find there. Within a few minutes, Bruce managed to get himself wedged in between the kitchen counter and the refrigerator. I had to help him out. "Let's save the kitchen for last," I suggested, and we both went back to his room. "You get the dresser, I'll get the closet. We'll rendezvous at the end of the bed in ten minutes. If you don't come back, I'll send for the search party. God knows I'm not going across the room to help your lame ass, we have a cat to find." He laughed. "You got it." He started his search through the dresser drawers while I proceeded to delve into his closet, checking the pockets of his coats and whatnot to see if I could find any traces of Sweetheart. Of course, there were traces of her golden fur all over his clothes. "Hey Bruce," I called. "At the rate your cat's going, you should get her some kitty hair extensions or something. She'll be bald in no time." "A toupee," he hollered back. I laughed. "Yeah, there you go." While looking behind a box of shoes, I thought I heard something similar to a mew. It was so quiet, though, that when I didn't hear anything else for a few minutes, I forgot all about it. That is, until my hands grazed something furry at the back of Bruce's closet. "EGAD!" I exclaimed, jumping back and hitting my head on the closet door. "What's the matter?" Bruce asked as he came over to help me up. "I felt something furry. Furry, and warm. And furry. And it scared the bloody hell out of me." "It must be Sweetheart! Let me turn on the light, there's a light switch for the closet by the door." "Must be sweetheart, no kidding..." He turned the light on, and sure enough - there she was, curled up on one of his coats that had fallen to the floor. Only, she wasn't exactly alone. "Kittens?!" he yelped. "How the hell did she have kittens?!" "Good grief, Bruce, I would've thought they taught you that in grade school," I joked. "Very funny." "Looks like you have a whole posse of furry minions to terrorize your insane mother with now." "How many are there, anyway?" he asked, moving forward to get a better look. "We have six! Six kittens!" "Congratulations, Brucey boy, you got yourself a whole litter. Now, you and Sweetheart take extra-special care of them. Send them all to good schools, make sure they all come in by exactly eight o'clock. You know how cats are...have to set a strict curfew." I winked. He laughed. "Thank you for all the trouble you went through to help me find her. Goodness, had I known she was here all the time, I wouldn't have come to you for help." "Eh, it's alright. Not like I have any other way to spend my time." For the first time since they'd been discovered, I actually took the time to notice the kittens. Boy, they sure were a hoot to look at, so small and fluffy - pretty damn cute, too. One in particular caught my eye - a little gray and white one. "Boy, he's a cute little thing," I said quietly, reaching to pet him on the back. I smiled sadly. "You know...when I was maybe ten or eleven years old, I had a cat that looked just like him. Didn't have him for very long, though; he got hit by a car a couple weeks after we got him. I named him Spencer." "Well then," Bruce said, placing a hand on my shoulder, "this one will be Spencer. How about that?" My smile remained, but it wasn't sad anymore. "Yeah...how about that..." It seemed like that was the end. Bruce got his beloved Sweetheart back, and an unexpected surprise, too. The only thing I got - and the only thing I expected to get - was enough money to pay my rent. But, one night, a few months later, Bruce came by and paid me a spontaneous visit. Strangely, it was rainy and a bit cold - just like the first night we met. As expected, he busted through the door the same exact way. "You Nik Monroe?" he asked. "Depends on who I'm talking to," I replied with a smile. "Been a while," he said, coming over to my desk. "I would sit down, but I know you just got that chair reupholstered three years ago." "Yeah, sitting down in a wet jacket is a no-no." I grinned. He laughed. "When do you close up?" "Now, actually. I don't have any business as it is, might as well call it a night early." He smiled. "Good. Because, see...I was wondering if you could take care of something for me." "Oh?" He undid the top button of his coat, and a little gray and white head popped out. "I figured Spencer would be better off with you. You know, for all the lonely nights at the office." The cat jumped out of his coat and walked across my desk, settling down by the phone. "Bruce, are you sure?" "Yep. Unless you don't want him, that is..." "Of course I want him..." I paused as my cheeks turned pink. "Thank you." "Any time." I hesitated. "Say...you wanna come back to my place? Maybe I could make dinner or something. I'm one hell of a cook." "Back to your place? Nikki, baby, we just met." He grinned. "Cute, very cute." So it was. I had a new friend, and a new companion to keep me company at the office. And no, I'm not exactly talking about Spencer. Sure, more bum cases would come in. Probably, the next one would be about a missing pair of scissors. Sure, the nights would be rainy and cold, and I'd have to walk through the front door with wet shoes. But hey, that's what it's about. Well...when you're a detective, anyway.