Milwaukee is his stomping ground, he knows everything about it. If it's important it doesn't escape his view or attention, if it's something small it may slip under his thumb but that's because he let it, because it didn't concern him and he wasn't concerned with it. And even just the mild, maybe new, happenings are under his purview, even if he doesn't make a note of it.

Ewing Oil however, is something small; it's just one of the many mild new happenings to come to his town. But Bobby Ewing definitely concerns him, and definitely has grabbed his attention.

To everyone else, life went on as normal, nothing had changed. But for Fonz, before he even knew the news, there was a change in the air; just a slight change in temperature, just a tad hotter. Through his connections (and the fact that gossip traveled fast in a small town) Fonz learned quickly who was coming to town and why they were there. But to be honest he only knew why Ewing Oil was here. Why Bobby was here- he didn't know. But he was going to find out or he wasn't Arthur Fonzarelli.

Making his way into Ewing Oil's temporary headquarters was easy enough. No amount of security presents a problem for the Fonz, especially when the key player to getting into the higher offices is a member of the opposite sex.

Bobby was nowhere to be found though; all the workers would say is that he went out. And really that's no help at all.

"Out where?" Fonz pressed, keeping his voice level despite his growing irritation. The lead assistant or secretary or whatever she was had been very helpful in getting him into Bobby's makeshift office. Getting him info on where the businessman was now though, was an entirely different matter. The woman- Miranda, Fonz reminded himself- was far too enthralled with him.

"He didn't specify, just left." Miranda whispers the response almost like it's a secret she's not suppose to tell. Her breath is hot against his cheek, her mouth so close to his and the lack of personal space makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The assistant's lips ghost over his and Fonzie can feel the heat rising in his face. Her lips continue a path down his neck, always a hair of space between them and Fonz lets a shiver pass through him sending the woman back a bit.

He doesn't have time for this, not when Bobby's in town- somewhere. Not when his mind is filled with images of Bobby, images and memories and smells and a life once lived all rolling inside his head like a movie reel.

Fonz rests his hands on Miranda's shoulders, keeping her a safe, respectable distance away. "Did he say anything, anything at all?"

Miranda's lips push into a pout, disappointed with Fonz not accepting her advances. Fonz can't help smiling, it's a cute look on her, and he can appreciate that.

The smile is accompanied by serious eyes though and maybe that's what finally convinces Miranda to give up on wooing the leather-clad legend. "He was muttering as he went out. Something about a bar, a Domino's or DiMaggio or-"

"DeMario's."

"Yeah, yeah. Didn't say much else though. Just kept repeating 'DeMario's. DeMario's. DeMario's.' Like it was some kinda prayer." Least I got something, Fonz thought. This was the only lead he had and he had to find Bobby as soon as possible. There was no way he was going to let Bobby prance around Milwaukee without at least seeing him once.

"Thank you. Really. And," Fonz stepped in close to Miranda, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear with his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, hovering by her ear for a few seconds. "Maybe another time."

"Maybe Fonzarelli."

"Aaaay." He liked the sound of that.

Fonz watched Miranda back away from him slowly, throwing him a wink before sashaying out of the office.

Fonz turned and finished his inspection of the place. It was plain, not many personal touches, though really for a temporary office why would there be? That's not for lack of trying though. So he's got a wife now... Fonz held the picture frame in his hands carefully. The woman in the picture looked classy but feisty, she had style and style was usually Bobby's type.

Putting the frame down he gave the office one more glance-over. It was a lot of time to spend in an office but he hadn't seen Bobby in a few years. This office, despite the lack of decoration, held a warm southern feel to it. An air very much similar to the one Bobby had, the one Fonz liked so much.

Fonz took the stairs two at time down to his motorcycle. If he moved now he might be able to catch Bobby at DeMario's and then he could figure out what the cowboy was doing in Milwaukee.