Suga wakes hours before sunrise, gets dressed, and puts on his heavy overcoat and fedora before heading out for a walk. The hours before dawn are misty, barely noticeable to him. He is deep in his thoughts, unaware of where his feet are taking him, but he never fears the city.

His feet stop at the alleyway entrance where you were last seen, as told by a bum to the police the night you went missing. The bum spent most of his nights there.

At first, the police thought the drunk bum had a hand in your disappearance. They later learned that he wasn't mentally stable enough as a reliable witness, talking of a smoke-bellowing dragon capturing a princess with hair of gold.

Suga stands there debating whether to search again for any missed clues to what may have happened to you that night. He leans against the wall of the soup kitchen and pulls a half-smoked cigar from his vest pocket. He strikes his match on the rough brick of the building, causing it to blaze brightly and settle down in a steady flame. He lights his cigar and drops the match in a small puddle near his feet left by an earlier rain.

The smoke curls around in the air before dissipating. Several minutes later, the cop on his beat recognizes him.

"Evening, Mr. Min." He tips his police cap to Suga. He's become accustomed to seeing him here several nights a week, in the same place, leaning on the wall, smoking a cigar.

"Hello Officer Kowalski."

Officer Kowalski was there the night you went missing. He is one of the first officers on the scene to discover your hat and shoe. Your purse was never found.

No other words are exchanged as this has become a routine for them both. Officer Kowalski continues on his beat. He shakes his head after seeing Mr. Min. Poor man, it's been almost a year. And he still comes here hoping to find an answer.

Suga loses himself to his thoughts when he suddenly catches a whiff of your perfume. He drops the butt of his cigar in the same small puddle as the dead match. He is determined to search again, surely the police missed something.

The police had tried to find you, but all they found in the alleyway was one shoe and your hat. After two weeks, the police stopped looking and labeled it a cold case, saying they had no clues or witnesses. The city was running rampant with mobsters and gang violence, and a girlfriend running off didn't rate high on their list of priorities.

Every night after work, if he could, Suga would go back and search that alleyway for anything he could find that might be a clue... anything. It wasn't like the alleyways were ever a priority to keep clean. 

Tonight, Suga decided to look farther into the alley than where the police had focused their search. He knew you would never leave him without a word or reason.

He combs through the trash deposited along the brick walls of the buildings. He had to run off one drunk after giving him money to get something to drink. But the man came back and kept following him. 

At first, he tried to talk to the man and realized something was wrong with his mind. All he could talk about was a beautiful Princess and a man with large plumes of smoke coming from his mouth like a dragon. 

Suga asked him what did you look like, but other than a golden haired Princess, Suga couldn't get any better details from the man as he became more focused on begging for a drink.

 In his alcohol withdrawal ranting, he kept talking about the dragon man and the beautiful Princess and how, in a burst of blue fire, they disappeared. He said the dragon man's fire consumed them, and he started begging for a drink again.

Suga shoves the man with his rotten breath away from him after giving him a couple of dollars. "Now get out of here!"

Now undisturbed, he continued looking around, and he went through the trash where the bum had been. To his utter shock, he found your purse. It was empty, no wonder, considering where he found it.

He reverently lifts the purse in his hands. Not aware tears are falling from his eyes as it starts to rain.

He snaps himself out of crying, telling himself he needs to focus. If he can find your purse, then surely he can find evidence of what happened to you that day. With newfound optimism, he sets the purse down and begins going through the pile of garbage.

He picks up a heavy brown paper bag and stands up, just staring at it. The top of the bag was twisted around the neck of a bottle that had not been opened.

Slowly with bated breath, he pulls the bottle out of the bag and stumbles back falling on his arse next to your purse.

Flashback In Time: February 14, 1931

You have a special errand to run to get his Valentine's Day gift. A man offered to sell a rare bottle of Suga's favorite brand of whiskey. You knew you were taking a chance of getting arrested with outlawed alcohol but Suga was worth it. He had already given you your Valentine's Day gift this morning, and you celebrated in bed. You look at the engagement ring on your finger and smile.

You gaze at him adoringly as you move out from under the covers and lean down to kiss Suga's sleeping face.

He wakes and reaches out his hand. "Where are you going?" His thumb moves over the ring he had given you this morning when he asked you to marry him. He caresses your finger with his thumb causing the ring to turn.

You kiss him and step away. "I'm not telling you. I'm going to get my Valentine's surprise for you." You hurriedly get dressed and grab your coat and purse. "I will be back in time to change and sing tonight. You keep those magic fingers of yours warmed up." 

He laughs as he gets up to get dressed.

"Take your brother with you, at least. I don't want you going out alone. Gangster activity seems to be picking up."

As you slip through the bedroom door, you blow him a kiss and say, "I love you."

"I love you too *doll."

And that was the last time he saw you. Valentine's Day 1931.

End of flashback.

He pulls the bottle out of the brown paper bag and he can't hold back his tears. You had gone out to get him a bottle of his favorite imported Irish whiskey. 

There was no other explanation. The whiskey you knew he liked to drink was rare and costly and was in the same place as your purse. But who? How did you find someone who could get their hands on it? You could have been arrested for having it in your possession.

He looks around and wipes his eyes and nose with the sleeve of the arm holding the whiskey bottle.

 "I'd rather have you than any whiskey." 

A/N:

*Doll - is 1930 slang for woman, female.