A Good Town For A Walk, a moonlight fanfic

Title: A Good Town For A Walk

Author: Marianne H. Stillie

Categories: Episode Tag for Sleeping Beauty; Introspective POV

Rating: T

Pairing: Mick & Beth

Season: Season 1

Summary: For Mick, the past and present need time to sort things out.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places for Moonlight are the property of Silver Pictures Television and Warner Bros. Television. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Previously unrecognized characters, places and this story are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Archive: Please do not archive anywhere without the author's permission.

Author's Note: I was planning to do a future fluff piece for the holidays in which Mick and Beth are finally married. Instead this emotional story showed up thanks to the end scene in Sleeping Beauty. The non-canon references belong to a lengthy story I'm working on that involves Mick's real first love when he was a very young man during World War Two. Despite the canon emphasis, Coraline was just a vampiric blip in his life. His first love and Beth are the only ones who really count.

A Good Town For A Walk

Yeah, New York is a good town for a walk. Trouble is, without Beth it doesn't mean much tonight.

As I walk away from the cab taking her back to her unfinished business in L. A., I admit we both have too much current baggage between us for even a few hours of fun. No martinis. No set at the Village Vanguard. Most of all, no getting closer.

I push away all thoughts of the new memories I needed tonight, and head toward Fifth Avenue. The crisp December evening is so different from home, but it helps to clear my head. The blocks going toward Midtown slip by easily as I go north.

Josef's startling secret haunts me. It's the personification of the double-edged sword I've been afraid of with Beth. My P. I. instincts want to sort and compare and evaluate all the elements to come up with a solution. Finally, I realize there are too many parts of this picture missing. Solving our very complex jigsaw puzzle, of why Beth and I are here, now, is a lot more complicated than Josef's universe ever was. The revelation of his past makes keeping my own old secrets a lot harder, especially from Beth.

The constant movement of people and traffic is suddenly blocked out by the memories I feel swirling to the surface. They startle and surprise me, and I grab onto the joy they bring back without hesitation. I stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and look over my shoulder. The hundreds of lights on the Rockefeller Center tree blend with the cheery holiday music playing for the skaters on the ice rink below me.

A smile comes to me gratefully, as vivid memories fill my inner vision. As easily as if it were only yesterday, my own personal ghost of the past shows me Christmas Eve 1942 in L. A. I automatically turn from the modern world of the Center complex and let my eyes take in the Neo-Gothic-style splendor of St. Patrick's Cathedral across the street. Crossing the street, I take the marble steps two at a time.

The great cathedral is silent and empty, just what I need for my memories tonight. The church I knew as a boy was similar in style though smaller, so the very familiar feelings come back quickly. Midnight Mass that night so long ago was the happiest I'd ever been in my short twenty years.

I kneel in a front pew and look up at the high alter. Within this concrete reality, I see my parents to my left as if they were alive again. My mother is her usual smartly dressed holiday-best self in her Persian lamb coat and matching hat as she slips off her black calfskin gloves. Sitting closely beside her, my tall, reticent father is her carefully-attired equal in his grey dress overcoat, his fedora respectfully in his lap.

I reach for the chain around my neck. As soon as the Celtic cross touches my skin, the image of the beautiful young woman at my side that night comes to me, clear and vibrant and alive again. She looks over at me, her radiant smile so full of love, I can hardly believe I was so lucky to find her. I squeeze the cross tighter and feel her hand respond to mine the way it did that night. The memories are so intense, they flood my brain until there's no room for anything else. I let the passage of time in this real world heal me, freeing that part of myself I thought I'd lost forever.

Back out on the street, I call the airline to check the time of the next flight for L. A. In the cab on the way to JFK Airport, I look at my watch. By the time I get to the terminal, Beth's flight will already be in the air headed west.

I know we'll reconnect back in L. A. What I don't know are all the small details of what's coming for us within the big-picture problems. It's scary, and there's no escaping any of it. It's all a part of simply being alive, for humans and for vamps.

It was for the best that I had this time alone to remember what I once had. It makes me realize how much I do love Beth in the here and now. I'm pretty sure she loves me the same way. The look in her eyes as she read Sarah's diary and the inflections in her voice as she sat on the park bench told me more than she's ever been able to say directly. I had to look away for both our sakes.

As always, I was able to feel her emotions when she covered my hand through the taxi window glass. Even as I pulled my hand away, I knew that being this lucky twice in a lifetime has to count for something.

The taxi pulls up at the terminal entrance. I get out, pay the driver and hurry inside. The security check-in goes smoothly then I settle myself at my gate to wait for the boarding call.

A gentle edge of impatience that gnaws at me isn't surprising. The weather isn't the only reason I want to get home to L. A.