A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing the last chapter! And now, on to the second letter...
Dear Lisbon,
I find myself thinking of you a great deal. There is so much I want to know about your life now. What does your house look like? Do you have any new hobbies? How's the new job? Are you making friends? Are you happy? An inquiring mind wants to know.
It's frustrating for someone as nosy as I am not to be able to find these things out. However, my deductive skills have proved somewhat useful at times in the past, and so there are a number of guesses I'm going to submit based on my knowledge of your character and the bits of information that the limited internet access in these parts has seen fit to provide. Ready to play? It'll be fun. Oh come on, yes it will.
The given fact is that you are now the chief of police in a small town in Washington, a position you took on about a month ago. That would mean you were unemployed for about six months after the demise of the CBI, far too long for someone with your love of work to remain willingly idle, so from that I can deduce that your association with the CBI and its tainted name kept you from finding a position of equal stature. Nevertheless, your own impeccable reputation and the connections you've made over the years helped you find your current job.
How am I doing so far? Am I accurate? Isn't this fun? I'm going to go pour myself another cup of tea while you shake your head and roll your eyes. Meet you back here in a minute.
Ah, that's better. Let's see, where were we? Oh yes, your new job. "Chief Lisbon" has a nice ring to it. I'll bet you're impressing your colleagues and the community to no end. I'm guessing the town already has a pretty low crime rate, and I predict that under your watch, it will become almost non-existent.
As wonderful as I'm sure you are in your new role, it must be quite a change of pace from being the leader of the SCU. I know it's not the direction you were hoping your career would take at this point in your life. Hell, let's face it: you're bored silly, aren't you? It pains me to be the cause of you losing everything you've worked so hard to achieve all these years. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about that and feel guilty. You have done so much for me, far more than I will ever be able to repay. I just want you to know how grateful I am, and that I will never forget it.
Now, what about your new digs? I'm picturing a cosy little house with a fireplace. I'll bet there's even space for a garden that you planned on tending as a hobby, but you haven't started it yet because you have no idea what to grow or where to begin. If I were you, Lisbon, I'd plant some daffodil bulbs. They don't need much tending, and now is just about the right time to put them in the ground. Then at the end of winter, just when you think you can't possibly stand any more of the gloomy Pacific Northwest rain, those golden heads will look up at you and smile. You'll see. They'll be a harbinger of brighter things to come.
I hope you're making friends, that you're not feeling lonely with all your newfound spare time. Friendship has never been something that's come easily to you though, has it? That's OK. It's never come easily to me either, although we each have different reasons for it. Before, I was too busy thinking about how I could take advantage of people rather than how I could befriend them. The only friendly overtures I made outside of the carny circuit were always calculated, phony.
And after...well, I was too busy pursuing my quest to put much effort into making friends. I was very fortunate that friendship found me anyway, in the form of your team, and in you most especially. It's funny how sometimes the most important parts of your life can be things that you never sought in the first place.
As for you and friendship, you've never wanted to get too attached to people out of fear that they'd be taken away from you in one way or another, isn't that right? People, and life itself, can be notoriously fickle, can't they? And what better way to shield yourself from the pain of loss than by not allowing your heart to form attachments in the first place?
That may sound like a veiled criticism, but rest assured that it isn't. Whether or not Tennyson was on to something with that whole "'Tis better to have loved and lost" business, I'm certainly in no position to be doling out advice about friendship. All I know is that I'm a better person for having yours. I know, it's presumptuous of me to assume that I still have your friendship after the way I left things, after all that I have (and continue to) put you through. I may be taking your forgiveness for granted, but only because I know that that is the kind of person you are. And to be honest, I need to take it for granted, Lisbon, because yours has been one of the most important friendships of my life, and I don't know what I'd do without it.
I hope you know that you will always have my friendship, although I'm aware that that's not a particularly attractive offer while I'm sitting here half a world away, unable to listen to you or ease your burdens in any way. You have always been the one giving, and I have always been the one taking, and that's how it remains, with me taking up your time and clamouring for your attention through these letters. I'm sorry I can't be there for you now, and I have no way of knowing what the future holds (there are no such things as psychics, remember?) but no matter what happens, the one thing I can promise you is that you will never be far from my thoughts. I will always be wishing you well. You deserve every happiness, Teresa.
Miss you,
U No Hoo
