**This story was originally written in 2011, but as I reread it today, I realized there were some inconsistencies in the timeline I'd set up, so I'm going to rework it a bit. Katlyn Prentiss is an OC originally created for my story Miles From Where You Are, but I've changed her back story for the purpose of this story. This has not been beta read, so please excuse any mistakes!

"Today marks the tenth anniversary of a..." Katlyn changed the channel, cutting off the reporters words.

"Ten years ago today..." Katlyn sighed, and turned the television off.

She'd been up since early, already watched multiple reporters' account of the events of that day. Ten years ago today marked the fall of the World Trade Centers, the death of thousands, the death of her father. Her father had been her whole world, the only person in her family she had ever been close to. Her mother and her talked...once a month, on the phone and she saw her at Christmas, the rest of the time she was off doing her duties as a foreign diplomat. Her sister, Emily, she hadn't talked to her in years, except for Christmas when they got together with their mother. Then they were civil, but that was it.

Katlyn walked into her bedroom, changing into running clothes before heading to her car. She drove to the FBI Academy, deciding to make use of one of their running trails. Her mind drifted to when she'd told her father she wanted to join the FBI, she'd been a junior in high school, and he had been so proud. She'd applied to NYU, planning to study Criminal Justice, but her senior year, everything had changed.

She took off down the running trail, running as hard and as fast as she could, trying to distance herself from her thoughts. She remembered sitting in class and another teacher coming in, visibly upset. Her teacher had turned the news on, and she'd watched the horror unfold. They had been evacuated from school soon after, and she'd immediately started trying to contact her father.

"Hey, it's me. I know you're out there...I just need to know you're okay. Call me. Love you," had been the first voicemail she'd left. He had never called back.

Katlyn felt the tears stinging her cheeks. Finally, unable to breathe, from how hard she'd been running and how hard she was now crying, she collapsed to her knees, sobbing openly. The last time she'd cried this hard had been on the fifth anniversary of the attack, after a speech she'd given on her father's department's part in that day's events. Commending the bravery of the fire fighters that day, commending her father and the others who had lost their lives.

"Katlyn?" a British accent, laced with concern, brought her from her thoughts.

She looked up to see Mick Rawson watching her from a couple of feet away. She quickly wiped her eyes and forced a weak smile.

"Hi Mick," she said, her voice shaky.

"Are you alright? Did you get hurt or something?" he asked, taking a few steps forward.

Katlyn shook her head, not trusting her voice. Mick was the last person she wanted to see her cry. Cocky, arrogant and completely gorgeous, every girl in the academy wanted him. He was the weapons instructor, and had started mentoring her when she'd voiced wanting to be a sniper. They had grown close in that time, but he had never seen her less than 100% sure of herself and she didn't want to change that. Mick crouched down beside her and silently extended a hand to her. She accepted it and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

"Why don't we go somewhere and talk," he offered.

Katlyn hesitated, not sure if that was her smartest option, "Sure," she said, finally, knowing she needed someone to talk to.

They reached the parking lot and he walked over to his motorcycle, taking out the spare helmet and offering it to her. Noticing her hesitation, he stepped forward.

"Open air, fast speed, it might help clear your head. Come on. Don't you trust me?" he asked coyly.

She closed her fingers around the edge of the helmet and put it on her head. He smirked, before getting on the bike himself, waiting until she was on with her arms securely around his waist before speeding off. He was right, with the air around her, she couldn't think...or maybe it was his closeness. It was impossible not to be attracted to him.

They were on the road for a little over an hour before he stopped at a small coastal area.

"You were right, that did help," she told him, pulling off the helmet and shaking her hair out.

Mick only smirked before they made their way down to the sand in companionable silence.

"So, who was it?" he asked finally, as they sat down near the water.

"Who was who?" she asked, not turning her gaze away from the ocean.

"Given what today is, I'm making a guess as to why you were crying."

Katlyn could feel the tears threatening to engulf her again, "My dad...was a firefighter in New York… he was my whole world," she said softly, "He was the only one who was ever there."

"I'm sorry," Mick said, watching her, "Your father though, he died a hero."

"I know...I just wished that fact somehow made it easier...after it happened, I was a wreck, I ended up taking two years off before I started college," she closed her eyes, "It's been ten years, somehow though there are times when it still doesn't seem real."

Mick wrapped his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap. Her tears fell freely and she buried her face in his neck. He held her, stroking her hair until she cried herself out.

"So good to me, so right, and how you held me in your arms that September night. The first time you ever saw me cry." Taylor Swift