Goodbye Girl

Song prompt: "Goodbye Girl" by David Gates

Root looked down at the piece of paper in her hands. The instructions might as well have been in Portuguese for all that they made sense.

"Before you start your journey, turn to your left and get a drink," Root read aloud. A drink? Why did Lionel think she needed a drink? The wind blew cold. She shivered. Okay, maybe something hot to warm herself up.

Walking over to the push cart vendor, Root smiled. "Hi. One—"

"Hot chocolate," the short, round man interrupted. He handed the styrofoam cup over. "Here you go."

Root reached for her purse. "How much do I owe you?"

"On the house."

"On the house?" she echoed with skepticism. "I don't think..."

"Oh, there's one more thing." The man handed over a small envelope with a #2 written on it in black Sharpie. "Have fun," he said, pushing the cart forward to leave Root standing alone on the sidewalk.

"Okay, Lionel. What do you have up your sleeve?" Pulling off her glove, she ripped the envelope open and pulled out the note.

"Some people might prefer champagne. And though it seems dandy, tis the season for candy."

Root looked around. Candy? She was tempted to see what the detective had up his sleeve. Walking down the street, she spied the candy store. Opening the door, she stepped inside. Her nostrils were suddenly teased by the scent of delicious expensive chocolates and other confections.

"Hello! I was waiting for you," the older lady with snow white hair said from behind the long glass counter.

"You were waiting for me?"

"He said you would be dropping by."

"Would this 'he' be about five-seven, curly black hair, and wearing a grey pin-striped suit?" Root asked carefully. She wasn't sure, but she almost swore her heart skipped a beat.

"Well, yes he is! Said you were going to stop in here for some Valentine's Day chocolates." The lady turned around to grab the large heart shaped box tied in a red bow. "All gourmet, made by my hands." She handed the box to Root. "He has good taste," she added with a wink.

Hesitantly, Root took the box. "Thank you?"

"I think he has it bad for you." The lady's eyes twinkled with amusement of the young love she was witnessing.

"Heh."

"Well, before you write him off, I think he has something else in store for you." The lady handed over another small envelope that was duplicate of the first one from the sidewalk vendor. Root looked at it.

Root set the cup on the counter and ripped open the flap. Her eyes scanned the next cryptic message.

"It's as delicate as a flower but guaranteed to stand the test of time," Root read. She bit her lip as her computer-like brain tried to find the answer. "

The bell above the door rang as a couple of customers entered. "Good luck," the lady said and turned her attention elsewhere. Root stepped outside into the chilly air. Her brain still tried to put the pieces together. But came up empty. For the first time since she could remember, her ability stay one step ahead of the game was in full jeopardy. But that still didn't explain the vagueness of the note.

Looking down at the tiny card, she saw the small arrow in the right hand corner. "What?" She turned it over. Go north two blocks.

Dutifully, Root walked the two blocks until she saw a pink rose tied to the lamp post. Plucking it, she put it to her nose and sniffed the delicate perfume. Her eye caught something gleaming from a store window. She turned around to see a jewelry store.

"What in the world...?" she muttered. Curious, Root walked inside. The 'ding-dong' of the sensor made the gentleman behind the counter look up.

"You must be Samantha," he greeted happily.

"My friends call me Root," she automatically replied, a little apprehensive as to why Lionel would send her to a jewelry store.

"I have something for you."

"I'm sure you do." As the scavenger hunt continued, she was becoming less surprised by what she was finding. Although, if she was honest with herself, Lionel had definitely piqued her curiosity.

The man bent down to retrieve a small shopping bag that had the name of the store embossed on the side. "This is for you," he said and handed it over.

Root hesitated. "Is that what I think it is?" She was almost afraid to open it.

"He said not to open it."

"Why?"

"He didn't say. But he did leave this for you." The man handed over another envelope. "You might need this on your journey."

Flummoxed, Root took the box but didn't open it. She walked out of the store and sat down on the bench. Her mind was going a million miles an hour as she tried to figure out Lionel. What was he up to?

She tried to get an answer from The Machine. Nothing. It wasn't like either one to leave her in the dark. Either Lionel had completely flown under the radar, or The Machine was in cahoots with the detective and was deliberately keeping her in the dark. Neither option gave her a good feeling.

Her phone buzzed. Looking down, she read the message: Open the envelope.

Root sat up straight and looked around. Who was spying on her? Was it Lionel? Was it The Machine? Unsure, she opened the flap and pulled out the card.

"This journey is almost over, but another is around the bend. And like the item in the bag, it has no beginning and no end."

"Okay, Lionel. I'm calling your bluff. Since She is not revealing anything, I guess it's up to me to find out what you have up your sleeve," Root grumbled. She threw away the empty cup and headed down the sidewalk toward destination unknown. Part of her was excited at what might await her, but the realistic part that had her feet planted firmly on the ground knew that she shouldn't expect too much. After all, everything had been set up by Lionel Fusco.

Five minutes of walking and she paused. She looked at the buildings—some of importance, others not so much. Where exactly was she supposed to go? She looked at the note for more clues. Nothing. Not so much as an arrow.

The phone beeped.

"To your right."

Root turned to see the huge stairs of the courthouse. Did he really expect her to walk into a courthouse? In answer, the phone beeped again.

"Come inside to the rotunda."

Climbing the stairs, Root followed the request of the unknown sender. Pushing open the door, she made her way past the many people to the rotunda. "Now what?" she asked rhetorically.

"Take the elevator up to the third floor. Go down the hall. Make a left. Third door on your right."

"Lionel, I'm going to shoot you," she muttered under her breath/

"Not an appropriate thing to say in a courthouse," the response chastised. "See you in five minutes."

Grumbling incoherently, Root stepped on the elevator, pressed the level three button, then waited. Soon enough the doors opened to the third floor and she was making her way down the hall.

"One, two, three..." she counted before coming to the door as instructed. She turned the knob.

"It's about time you got here," Lionel said. Root looked at him in astonishment. Was that a new suit? "The judge was about to go home." He came over and dropped a kiss on her lips.

"Judge?"

"Yeah. I see you found everything," Lionel praised her and himself at a job well done and executed.

"I—yeah."

Lionel took the bag and pulled out two small boxes. "This one is yours."

Coming back to her senses, Root felt her anger surface. "Lionel, what are you doing?"

"Giving you your Valentine's Day gift," he replied unapologetically.

"By making me run all over town, trying to decipher your cryptic notes?" she retorted with righteous indignation. "A cup of hot chocolate, a box of chocolates, a pink rose, and a bag from a jewelry store," she listed off the items one by one.

"Not too difficult since you found everything." He grinned his silly kool-aid grin, proud of himself and how he fooled her.

"Pretty childish," she rebuked.

"Eh. Put the blame on Wonderboy for that one," Lionel deflected any part he may have had.

"What does the big lug have to do with this—this scavenger hunt?" Root asked in disbelief that her nemesis-cum-friend had inspired Lionel to act completely out of character.

"It's how he proposed to Carter."

"Wh-what? What do you mean..." she looked down to see Lionel kneeling in front of her "...propose? Oh!" Gasping out loud, Root's hand covered her mouth as Lionel slipped the diamond ring on the finger of her other hand.

"Samantha Groves, will you marry me?" he asked. His blue eyes looked up at her with love and adoration as he held her hand.

"Lionel, I hate you," she whispered hoarsely as inexplicable tears rushed to blind her.

Lionel chuckled. "Welcome to the crowd, sweetheart," he chided. "Still..." he prompted.

"What are we going to tell the team?"

"We'll tell them when the time is right. Are you you with me?"

"Yes. Yes," she responded with breathless eagerness. That small thrill from earlier was spreading throughout her body. She almost felt giddy.

Lionel stood up. "Well, then, let's get this party on the road. Your Honor, we're ready."

The judge looked at the couple standing in front of him. Mismatched barely described them, but he had seen hundreds of couple during his time as judge, and despite the differences, they seemed perfectly suited for each other. The side door opened and a lady came in to stand off to the side to be a witness to the event.

"I'm glad we're all here on this Valentine's Day," the judge began his opening. "Before I proceed, I need to ask if both of you are consenting to this wedding ceremony today?"

"Yes," Lionel and Root answered simultaneously.

"Good. Let me start by saying that I am glad to see two people so much in love deciding to spend the rest of their lives together." The judge cleared his throat. "Lionel Francis Fusco, do you take Samantha Gail Groves as your wife? Do you promise to love, honour, and cherish her, for better and worse, until death do you part?"

"I do," Lionel replied.

"And do you, Samantha Gail Groves, take Lionel Francis Fusco as your husband? Do you promise to love, honour, and cherish him, for better and worse, until death do you part?"

Root stood straight and tall as she answered, "I do."

"We will now exchange the rings."

Lionel opened the small box and pulled out a white gold ring. Taking Root's hand, he slid the band over her left finger.

Root took the similar style ring from her box and repeated the process with Lionel.

"Would either of you care to say anything?" the judge asked.

"I know we haven't always gotten along," Lionel began.

"That's an understatement, Lionel," Root replied, tongue in cheek.

"True. But somewhere along the way, we became friends. You always seemed to be there for our friends, and always, interestingly enough, one step ahead of everyone. Except for today. You might be wondering why I want to chance taking the plunge with a woman I lovingly refer to as 'cocoa puffs', but there is a method to my madness: I love you. It's that simple."

Root felt a tear roll down her cheek.

"I know you've been hurt before," Lionel continued, "and people you loved have left you. I know it broke your heart and made you turn inside yourself. I know it made you distrust everyone. You've been floating out there without a port in a storm or a home to call your own. I know the feeling. But I'm not that person. I will never leave you. I will never tell you good-bye. Even if I have to leave you for a while, know that you will always be my port in the storm. And trust me that I will always be yours."

Root sniffled. "Way to go, Lionel. You sure know the way to a girl's heart."

Lionel raised her hand and brought it to his lips. "Well, I am The Fusco," he boasted.

"Yeah, you are. And that is probably why I fell in love with you. You're prideful and bombastic and one of the most loyal people I've ever met. You're also the last person I had ever imagined spending the rest of my life with, and I fought what I feel for you for so long before I had to give in, but here I am. And it feels right. Even with the promise of a home forever, my heart lets me know it's right. I know you love me."

As a judge, he had heard a lot of vows and promises, but this one seemed to move him beyond words. Twice he had to clear his throat before proceeding.

"With the power invested in me, by the state of New York, I pronounce you both husband and wife. Mr. Fusco, you may kiss your bride," the judge encouraged.

Lionel stepped forward. "It's real. We're married," he said gruffly in a voice thick with emotion.

"We are," Root whispered. Could it be that all of her dreams were finally coming true? If the sparkle in Lionel's blue eyes was to be believed, then the answer was yes.

"For better and worse."

"I think we've shown we can get thru the 'worse' part," Root said. "I wouldn't mind a little 'better' for a while."

"Your wish is my command," Lionel boasted. "After all, I am—"

"The Fusco. I know." Root rolled her eyes. "Instead of bragging, why don't you show me?"

"That is one wish I don't mind fulfilling right now. Welcome home, Samantha," Lionel said as he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers and sealed their vows for eternity.

The End