The smoke is stale in the air, clinging to every available surface in the room. It's not an unfamiliar smell really. Sasha suspects his home would smell like this if he didn't insist on airing it out regularly.

The bar itself isn't as seedy as it could be, tables seem clean enough, the floor is only somewhat littered with loose paper, bottle caps and miscellaneous junk brought in from the clientele. Only a few lights dim and flicker overhead as he surveys his surroundings, the rest seem new. The tables and bar itself are covered with change, dollar bills, open beers, half eaten food, used napkins and the occasional hat or glasses. Trinkets roll around the stained hardwood floor, lost and left behind.

Even so, Sasha keeps his gloves on as he paces through the emptied out dive bar. He memorizes the layout, walks around the chalk outline as he briefly glanced over at Milla before dropping his gaze back onto the floor. There is no blood present on the hardwood floor in or out of the chalk. The body had dropped amongst the crowd without being trampled somehow. Without any obvious open injuries. Any psychic could feel the energy radiating off of the spot on the floor.

Sasha wonders if his husband (the word is sweet, soft and new, it makes his tongue brush across his lips) would frequent this place if he knew it existed. He could easily picture Eddie leaning against the bar, his laughter heady and warm as he regales the bartender with jokes. He can see Eddie getting free drinks with that smile of his. He could see Eddie standing on a table, throwing his fist in the air, charming the regulars with ease. He thinks about Eddie's lips, booze on his breath and a coy smile spread across his features.

The line of thought it's gone as quickly as it came, Sasha shifts his attention back to the task at hand. Even if he's justified in being slightly distracted, he won't let it taint his concentration. He talks to the police, to Milla. Notes are made, numbers exchanged and they are let loose back into the cold night air. It's almost cold enough to remind him of Germany in the winter. He walks with Milla, ignoring the chill as the police depart.

Sasha glances back once after he's settled into the rental car. The bar lights go out with a wink, leaving them with only the street lights overhead for company. Milla easily starts the car, the engine rumbling under them as she drives them back to their hotel.

He doesn't get to think very deeply until Milla's words cut through his idle thoughts like a blade through flesh.

"You should text Eddie, darling. I'm sure he's as annoyed as you are about business cutting into your honeymoon like this." Her gaze is curious, concerned. Her gaze drifts back to the road after a moment.

Sasha simply nods back, patting at his pockets. "Certainly a sound idea…"

"I could feel you thinking about him while we were in the bar you know." Her honesty makes Sasha go still, some worry pinching his brow before he saw the smile on her lips. Even now… he worries. He wonders if Milla is still angry.

"Was it that obvious?"

"Darling, I can read you like a book." She reached out to pat his shoulder, missing slightly and patting his arm instead. Her gaze is still focused on the road. "Now, call your husband."

The word is just as sweet when she says it too.

###

Milla spares her partner a brief glance, a soft frown curling across her features as Sasha sits by the window watching the street below. His cellphone is in his hand and he seems unsurprisingly distracted. For once his sunglasses are set to the side on the nightstand next to one of the twin beds in the hotel room.

"Darling, we should both get some sleep."

He startles initially, turning to face her openly embarrassed to be so surprised. He usually isn't taken that off guard. "Ach, yes. What time is it?"

"Nearly 4am, Sasha." She gestures at a clock on the hotel room wall. "It should say as much on your phone too, dear." She closes the case file, setting it on the nightstand next to her own bed. Milla knows if she isn't firm Sasha will stay up all night pining for his spouse. She hates having to be the one to shut him down on this. The agency calling him now of all times is completely ridiculous. "Sleep."

"Yes." He spares his phone a glance, powering it off and moving away from the window. Once he's sure the cellphone is charging he drifts back to the window closing the curtains firmly. Paranoia is never far behind when the two stay in a hotel like this.

"We'll have this resolved soon. I promise you, dear." If the case wasn't as important the agency wouldn't have bothered to call Sasha in the first place.

"Mhm." Sasha sounded doubtful, but not willing to argue over it as he settled in his bed, staring at the hotel room's white pebbled ceiling over his bed. Milla can only sigh softly, laying down herself after turning out the lights.

She's awake long enough to know Sasha isn't having an easy time going to sleep. Milla can already tell this is going to be an interesting case to say the least.