Hey Boss.
You're a bastard, you know that? It took me eighteen months to get back a sense of normalcy.
Well, as normal a life as a hired gunman can have, I suppose.
But I did get myself back together. Finished up those last few assignments you left. No-one is left.
-SM
I got a job.
Apparently, there are more out there looking for a hit-man than just you.
Basic enough. Find marks, shoot marks. Easy.
-SM
You know, I keep waiting for one of your damn texts.
I'll be on the job and I just wait for my mobile to ring. I keep expecting you to just come back. Manic and everything.
I keep waiting for you to come back and call me 'Tiger' again.
-SM
Met someone.
A girl.
Shut up. You know I'm not picky about gender.
She's a mercenary. Like me, I suppose. Her name's Holly. Or maybe that's her alias.
-SM
Been two years.
I still miss you. Hell if I know why. But I do. She's always laughing, saying I'm a masochist. Maybe that's why I miss you.
Bastard.
-SM
Would it have been so hard to tell me?
I'm sure you had some brilliant reason, didn't you. Some goddamned reason in that fucked up mind of yours.
Damnit, Boss.
-SM
We don't talk about work.
It makes it hard, I guess. We don't work for the same person, Holly and me. So we don't talk.
Maybe that's why I still talk to you, even though you're six-feet-under.
-SM
Why do I still call you boss, Boss.
I have a new commanding officer, I should automatically loyal, right? I should always be a good guard dog and obey whatever master hold my leash.
That's still you.
-SM
She calls me 'Colonel'.
Feels strange. I haven't been called Colonel Moran since you used to.
I won't complain, though. It feels good to pull military rank sometimes.
-SM
A/N: Okay, so I had this idea a while back and am just now putting it to use. I'm forming it in chapters, not because I want chapters, but because I want to be able to keep adding on. Sorry. Anyhoo, if you have any helpful ideas…