Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: A different kind of reunion this time. I need some fluff to cut the mood of Lost and Found. Enjoy, and please review! Oh, this assumes that season four never happened, except for the fact that Logan and Quinn are together. I'm very picky about my reality.

To: ZGirl101

From: MamaBear234

Hi honey!

Can you believe summer is right around the corner? It's crazy! It seems like just yesterday we were all getting together for Christmas, and now it's warm and lovely out. Anyway, I know you're very busy up there in New York, so this is just a little note to remind you of the family reunion this weekend. We're holding it at your Uncle Merv's place this year. All the cousins are coming, including the ones from Texas! And, Madison is coming with her husband and their new baby boy. I can't wait! Even your brother managed to tear himself away from his job long enough to tell me that he's coming with his new girlfriend (you know, that Amy girl he's always talking about). Now, I figured since your brother is bringing his girlfriend, it would be a great time for you to bring your mystery man we keep hearing about. He sounds like quite the catch, and we're all dying to meet him. Don't worry about sleeping arrangements, we'll figure that out when you get here. The family is being split up between our house and Uncle Merv's, so living arrangements for the weekend are going to be really flexible. Call me when you read this so I know you're coming. And don't even think about not coming. You haven't been to the last three reunions and you aren't going to miss this one, too. Even if I have to come up there and get you.

Love you!

Mom xoxoxo

Damn. Damn it all to hell. Zoey groaned and buried her head in her arms, much to the loud protest of her keyboard. Every year, her mother sent her these e-mails. And every year, Zoey had managed to avoid the dreaded family reunion: she had work, she was sick, it was too far away. She had her excuse all primed up for this year, too, and it had involved her "mystery man" and a long vacation in the mountains of Vermont. Turns out that wouldn't work this year. Her mother meant what she'd written, and Zoey really didn't want her mother charging through her Brooklyn office and dragging her out by the collar of her well-pressed suit. For a woman in her 50's, Helen Brooks was not a woman to be trifled with. Besides the embarrassment of having your mother frog-march you out of your office like an unruly toddler, Zoey knew she would hear about it all on the ride to her Uncle Merv's.

For most, a family reunion isn't a big deal. You go for an afternoon, eat some barbeque, get hugged and kissed by people you barely know, fuss over new babies, have some friendly competition, and leave before the sun goes down. And that part Zoey could handle. That was the fun part. The un-fun part was the little clause in the e-mail that said she had to bring her boyfriend. She could always tell her mother she didn't want to subject him to their family just yet, but she'd been dating him for over a year now and her mother was growing more and more impatient. The only problem was that "him" didn't actually, technically, exactly….exist. She had made the whole thing up to get her family off her back about being in her late 20's without having been in a truly committed relationship. Most were appalled that she hadn't settled down yet and popped out a couple of kids. In reality, she was happy being single and successful. It wasn't her fault her family lived in the 1800's. She couldn't go a week without an e-mail (or snail mail letter) from her grandmothers and aunts demanding to know why she couldn't be more like her cousin Madison and find a nice man to set up shop with. Like Zoey had ever aspired to do anything Madison did. Madison was the other reason she didn't want to go, but she could only work on one problem at a time.

What was she going to do? On the one hand, she could tell her family the truth that her "mystery man" was a figment of her imagination. But that would bring humiliation and mocking from every single member from her great-grandmother Pearl to her cousin's new baby. It would be like the time she side-swiped her grandmother's old car by accident; even now she got jokes about not running over people and small animals. At the last family get-together she'd been to, she'd overheard her father tell her cousin's boys that their crash-and-bash game of toy cars reminded him of Zoey. If the fact that she was not only single but had made up the story about not being single, she would never live it down. And it would bring her to a whole new low. She buried her head further into her arms and let out another pitiful groan.

"Hey, stranger." Zoey looked up to find Chase leaning against the doorframe of her office, a travel mug of coffee in each hand. He took a long swig from one and looked at her quizzically. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she said, though her voice sounded too flat and miserable to be convincing. She accepted the coffee cup he offered with a thank you and took a deep breath.

"It doesn't sound like nothing," without apology, he leaned over her shoulder and read the e-mail her mother had sent. His brow furrowed in confusion. "A family reunion? That's what you're moaning and groaning about? I know they're boring, Zo, but it's not torture."

"That's not the problem," she muttered. Apparently, it wasn't low enough so that Chase couldn't hear, because he scrolled through and read the e-mail again.

"Hey, you met someone?" he asked after a moment.

"Thanks so much for saying it like that."

"Sorry. So, tell me everything about this guy." Chase hopped up onto her desk in such a way that it sent folders and post-its flying to the floor. She gave him a reproachful look, but got nothing but an apologetic smile.

"There isn't anything to tell."

"Of course there is. Where did you meet him? How long have you been dat—"

"No, I mean he's not real. I made the whole thing up to get my family off my back."

"Oh. So there's literally nothing to say about him."

"That's the idea," she braced herself for Chase's criticism. Or at the very least, him rolling on the floor in hysterical laughter.

"Well, that's awkward."

"Don't start."

"Well, what are you going to do at your family reunion?"

"I'm working on it," she ran her fingers through her hair and let out a breath. "I could….not go. But then my mother would come and haul me there by force. And demand to drive to his house to pick him up. Then the whole story would unravel and I would be the laughing stock of my family and several family friends." She groaned again. "Or I could tell her we broke up. But of course then she'd want to go see him and yell at him for breaking her daughter's heart. Dammit." She thought for a moment before opening up the drawer his legs weren't blocking and pulling out a phone book. She rifled through the pages for a moment before finding what she was looking for.

"What are you doing?" he asked. She waved him of, punching in the number listed and waiting for a receptionist to answer.

"McNally's Escort Service," a chipper female voice came over the line. "How may I help you?"

"Hello, my name is—" Zoey's greeting was cut off by the abrupt sound of a dial tone. Looking over, she saw Chase with his finger on the button with an incredulous look on his face.

"You were going to hire an escort service?"

"Am going to hire one," she corrected him. "It's not like I have a choice at this point. I haven't dated in years. And I don't have the time to go out and find someone. Not to mention by the time I get done explaining that he'll have to play the doting fiancé because I was too chicken to stand up to my stuck-in-the past relatives, he'll be running for the door."

"But Zo…an escort? That's like hiring a hooker."

"Only if I want to fork over the cash."

"Oh, now there's a comforting thought. You don't know what kind of guy you're going to get with that service. He could be an upstanding gentleman who moonlights to pay off his grandmother's medical bills. Or, he could be a total asshole whose entire goal is to get into your pants."

"Chase…" she warned. Chase was nothing if not overprotective. Usually she was tolerant of it. Even found it cute most of the time. Downright adorable. But today, she was not in the mood. She pushed his hand out of the way and reached for the phone book again. "Like I said, I don't have a choice. I'd avoid it if I could, but it's my last hope." Chase snatched both the phone and the directory out of her hands and hid them both behind his back.

"No way. I'm not letting you hire some random guy nobody knows to be alone with you all weekend. It's not safe."

"What do you suggest I do then, oh Master of Wisdom?" the sarcasm dripped from her statement, which he ignored. He thought for a moment.

"I'll do it."

"You'll do what?"

"I'll play your fiancé at your family reunion."

"What?" she choked on the mouthful of coffee she'd just taken.

"You heard me."

"Chase, we're friends. That would be…awkward. To say the least."

"And having to kiss and fondle some random guy would be easier?" He had a point there. But still…She'd never be able to face him again. At the very least, she'd never be able to look him in the eyes again. At least if it was some random escort, she could pay him his fee and never have to see him ever again. But Chase….

"It would change things, Chase. I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking. I'm offering."

"Chase…" she was still debating when he did something she never expected: he pulled her up out of her chair and kissed her. Not a friendly peck, like he'd given her in the past. This was a lover's kiss, and the passion that fizzled behind it scared the hell out her. She was glad he'd slipped an arm around her waist; she wasn't quite sure her knees were in working order. It took all of her willpower not to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer. But if he kept kissing her like this, she could not be held responsible for her actions. After a long moment that wasn't nearly long enough, he pulled away and gave her a small smile.

"See? That wasn't awkward," he let her go and picked up his coffee. He headed for the door while she was still trying to form a coherent sentence, tossing out as he left, "See you this weekend, honey."

A/N: What do you think? Continue or toss to the scrap heap?