A Final Resting Place
Fusco pulled the collar of his winter jacket closer to his neck as he stood in the frigid cold staring at the slick marble headstone.
His eyes reading the black lettered engravings 'John H. Jones 1970-2017 In loving memory of a beloved soldier and friend. May he find eternal peace.'
"I know he wasn't from here." Fusco turned to look at the short man next to him. He had changed since they first meant. Although the thick rimmed glasses and fancy three-piece suits stayed the same, the unmistakable bulge of a firearm tucked at his side was something he was still getting used to.
"Out of all the places you could have put him...why here?"
"John has lived a hand full of lives; he has been many places and although this is not where he was born, I know that this is where he wanted to be," Finch replied as he looked at the freshly filled in the grave and the simple arrangements of white lilies, orchids, and tulips resting near the base of the headstone.
"How?"
Finch smiled sadly as he placed a smaller bouquet of red roses on the grave next to John's "Because he once expressed that there was no one else he would rather be with in the end then her."
Lionel huffed out and smiled brighter as he looked at Joss's gravestone "I knew he had a thing for her…do you think…that they're together somewhere?"
Harold stood up as the snow began to fall, "I've never believed myself to be a religious man Detective… but then again the absence of evidence isn't necessarily the evidence of absence….If there is something better after this life…I have a feeling that they'll find each other again."
Fusco chuckled softly "Look at us we sound like two hopeless romantics"
Harold smiled as they turned and headed back to the city "I think deep down we all are, after all Detective everyone loves a happy ending even if it's cliché."