Author's Notes: I personally loved Milo, and will miss him terribly. This fic is spawned by the fact that I needed a little more closure for his death, and thought that you all (the readers) might as well. It's mainly just dark humour. Please read and review!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At that point, Milo would have laughed at the absurdity of it all...if he hadn't been dead. Being dead gave one a sobering feeling, as it did Milo at that time. It was then, as Milo looked down upon his lifeless body, that he realized one of two things. The first being that he was either crazy or dreaming, and the second being that he was dead and having an out of body experience. Touching his forehead gently, he felt the small, precise hole in his head and knew, instantly, that he wasn't dreaming.

He was dead.

It was a frightening thought at first, but the more he thought about it the funnier the entire situation became. He was dead... as in, not among the living any longer. Now that, in and of itself, wasn't the funny part. No, it was how he had died that he found sort of ironic and amusing...in a morbid sort of way.

It was Nadia's fault, if Milo felt the need to pin the blame on someone...but he didn't. Instead, he simply replayed the events in his head, all the events leading up to his inevitable and quick death.

First, he had fallen in love with Nadia. Or, at the very least, he had thought he'd fallen in love with Nadia. The truth was that he had no more than a powerful infatuation for his co-worker, though that relationship would never be able to be pursued now, he thought remorsefully.

Second, his jealousy of Doyle had interfered with his work ethic...though he'd go to the grave before admitting that. Well, since I'm dead...guess I can admit it now, he thought almost bemusedly. There was something between Doyle and Nadia, and Milo had known it. It had bugged the crap out of him too even though he did his best to convince himself that he didn't care. He did care. A lot.

It was a combination of those two things that had sparked the fire that had ended in his death. Eager to prove his worth in a terrifying situation, and to protect Nadia when Doyle could not...Milo had stood when the terrorist leader had demanded the acting director of CTU to come forth. It was in those last few moments, as he took each step towards his fate, that Milo realized something.

He didn't care.

He wasn't afraid to die. Not anymore.

All these years, he had been no more than a computer nerd, hunched over his keyboard, slaving away like a good little grunt while people like Jack Bauer and Mike Doyle were out in the field fighting the good fight and getting all the credit for it. Glory had never been one of Milo's aspirations, so it'd never bothered him all that much.

That is, until he'd met Nadia Yassir.

She was smart as she was beautiful, and Milo had become smitten with the woman shortly after arriving at CTU. Then Mike Doyle had to arrive and ruin everything. Maybe it was his rugged good looks, or his tough individualism...but he could see the passionate sparks between the two. It was then Milo had resolved to prove himself in her eyes. And, in a way, he believed he had.

After all, had he not just taken that bullet in the head...Nadia would have. See? There's the bright side you were looking for, Pressman, Milo thought to himself. Besides, if he hadn't complied...others could have died as well.

Yes, Milo Pressman went out a hero.

Somehow, that fact comforted him. Not only that, but he felt a strange tingling in his hand all of a sudden. Glancing down at it, he didn't notice anything different...but he did notice Nadia beside his dead body. And she was holding his hand.

It was such a small gesture, but it affected Milo tremendously. If he had not been dead and incapable of crying, he would have wept then. As he stood there, watching her hold his limp hand, he felt like laughing. It was peculiar; he felt like crying, but couldn't...and he didn't feel like laughing, but he did.

He laughed.

For a moment, he wondered what was wrong with him. He was dead! He shouldn't find anything funny! But he found the entire situation absolutely hilarious. He had died for a woman who had, just moments earlier, told him that she didn't know what she felt for him. He had died for no real cause. He was dead. And he found that funny?

She didn't want to hold my hand when I was alive, but she does now I'm dead. Figures. Milo shook his head, wondering what would happen to him now. Shouldn't he be in Heaven or Hell or something? This was, he believed, sort of anti-climactic. He'd always figured his death would lead him to bigger and grander things...not trapped in the world of the living, unable to communicate with them.

Suddenly, he got an idea...

---

Nadia collapsed into her seat at her station, breathing hard with tears streaming down her face. She'd tried to hide her anguish at the loss of Milo for as long as possible, but with the entire situation with the Chinese over and done with...she just couldn't fight the pain now confronting her any longer. It had been just a few hours ago since the loss of her beloved co-worker and friend, and the aching in her heart hadn't subsided yet. Had she cared for him more than she'd ever admitted?

Suddenly, a small beeping sound came from her computer, startling her. Her first instinct was to turn the machine off, until she realized it was an email...

"It's not possible," she whispered to herself, as she saw who it was from.

Slowly, with measured restraint and reluctance, she clicked open the email, scanning its contents with baited breath. The email read:

Hey Nadia,

You're not going to believe this, but I'm writing you from beyond the grave. I know, I know...you probably think this is some sort of sick joke, but it's not. And if you're not convinced, then that's your deal, but there's something I need to tell you before I leave for good. It's important...so pay attention. I realized this a while ago, but figure this is my last chance to tell you so here goes: you might want to see a doctor about that stick up your ass...it does nothing for your figure.

Yours truly,

Milo

And, in the end, Milo Pressman was the one who got the last laugh.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Please review and let me know what you thought of it! No flames, though. Thanks!