Phoenix (Fee-Niks): Noun: A person or thing that has become renewed or restored after suffering calamity, or apparent annihilation.
The meaning of this is not at all lost on him. At the present moment, he is fiddling around on the Internet, because the day is almost over. Paperwork is done, there is nothing to worry about and unless the phone rings, he will not have anything better to do until he goes home, to where his family is.
"Never figured you for the online dictionary sort of person," says Munch's voice, and Elliot jumps.
"Never figured you for the sort of person to spy on people," he retorts, because he knows it is one of those things that will cause Munch to keep talking and Olivia is gone, and so is Fin, because the two of them picked up a case of their own, and what he's really been wanting for the past few minutes is someone to talk to.
"I'm not spying. I just happened to look over your shoulder." Sure enough, Munch continues talking and goes over to his desk. "I'm certainly not trying to provide the government with any sort of competition, you know."
Elliot bites back the desire to laugh. "Figures," he says, and studies his colleague for a moment before turning back to the computer screen and reading the definition again.
"A person or thing that has become renewed or restored after suffering calamity or apparent annihilation," he says. "Match the word to the definition."
"Phoenix," says Munch, at once. Elliot rolls his eyes. It figures he'd be able to do that.
"So, what's your opinion on this?" he asks.
Silence. For a moment, he almost wonders if Munch is going to answer, but after a while, the older man does.
"I think," he says, "That this entire unit fits the definition."
Curiosity piqued by this, Elliot frowns slightly and turns away from the computer screen, moving his chair so that he can see Munch without having to turn his head too far.
"Elaborate," he says. "What makes you say that, and why?"
"Are you sure you have the time to sit here and listen?" Munch asks, looking over at him with raised eyebrows, and then, "Never mind."
He gets to his feet, puts his coat on, and motions for Elliot to follow. "Come on. We're going for a walk."
Ordinarily, Elliot might have just ignored this. Munch might be a sergeant now, but this isn't an order, and technically, he doesn't have to follow. But something makes him do it anyway.
Outside, the sky is blue and there are no clouds in sight and for once, the sidewalks don't seem so crowded, but maybe that's just him.
"I think," says Munch, as they walk, "That we fit the definition because of the things we have seen and the things that we haven't seen, and the things that we will probably see."
As much as he isn't in the mood for Munch's riddles, Elliot finds himself drawn even further into the conversation. Before he can say anything, however, the older man continues.
"There are too many things in this world that we all take for granted, and then when they're gone, it gets to the point where we think we might just fall apart, and sometimes, we do," he says. "And then again, there is something that always manages to bring us back to the way we were before. Something to renew us, for lack of a better term."
The term is in the definition.
"I think you lost me," Elliot says, after a moment. "How do we fit because of the things that we haven't seen? It doesn't make any sense. How is what we haven't seen supposed to break us?"
"Because we know it's out there," says Munch, as if this is the easiest thing in the world to figure out. "Because we know that sooner or later, we're going to see it, and we're not always sure that we're going to be able to take it."
"And when we find out that maybe it's just a little bit harder than we think it's going to be?"
"That would be what makes us fit. We fall, we break, we find ourselves on our knees, ready to give it all up and then something comes along that makes us into ourselves again. Brings us back to life."
"Kind of like bursting into flame and then reappearing in the midst of the ashes," says Elliot, a reference to a series of books that he read along with the twins, because he wanted to know exactly what other parents were complaining about, and in doing so, found that there wasn't anything that he in particular objected to.
"You've finished the seventh book, then," says Munch, an amused look crossing his face. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
"I do read, you know," Elliot says dryly, "But that's beside the point. Is it like that or not?"
"Yes. But put a closing of the case in place of the ashes and think about it. What do you see?"
"I see the four of us trying to figure out what we're going to do next. And I see us not exactly sure what we're going to do because the jury acquitted the defendant."
"Think of the flipside of that for a minute."
"Going to the usual place because we got the conviction we were looking for."
"There's your answer."
Silence. Elliot doesn't really get it, and isn't sure whether or not to admit to this when he notices Munch looking at him over his glasses.
"You don't get it, do you?" he asks, and Elliot shakes his head.
"Not really," he admits.
"I didn't get it at first, either. But if you think about it on a personal level, it's a little bit easier to understand."
For a moment, Elliot wonders exactly what Munch is hinting at, and then he starts to think about it.
"You mean everything that's been going on for the past couple of years," he says, and Munch nods.
"You," he says, "Are the one that fits the definition better than any one of us, at the moment."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That the rest of us have had our work and personal lives intact for the past couple of years, and you haven't, and now, you do." Munch trails off for a moment, and then goes on. "Don't think I'm trying to use the backdoor method of insulting you, either, because I'm not. I really do think you fit better than anyone else."
"I don't," Elliot says, more for the sake of arguing than anything else. "I think we're all on the same level."
"Professionally, maybe," says Munch, "But definitely not personal. We all have different lives, different things that make us tick…"
He trails off, and Elliot know where he is going with this, so he picks up.
"Different things that make us break, and different things that pull us back," he says. "But we all fit."
"For all that we are and all that we have been and will be, yeah," says Munch, and stops in his tracks and turns so that he is facing Elliot directly. "Yeah, we do."