Wow! I finally found time to finish this past all the homework! Okay, FYI, writing in bold is the person in the set location's message, and writing in italic is either the other person's message or a flashback...

Umbre0n: Yeah! And that's just the start! Hehe... Anyway, that's okay. Thanks for the review!
DreamGirll: Hehe... I had to end it somewhere, so why not right before I explain how Eugene and Melissa met? (; Glad you liked it.
MrAndersIversen: Thank you!
Trekrider: Thank you so so much! That's so kind of you! :D
tilly: :)
YupinaXX: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it!

RATING NOTICE: Chapter contains slight T content.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Chapter 11 ~ The Scars That Never Fade

November 30th 2011, Los Angeles, California

Rapunzel sat at her computer, looking through a number of pictures her cousin had finally emailed to her of the Northern Lights over Alaska. Pascal was perched on her shoulder - as he almost always was - looking at the pictures as she scrolled through them.

As she flicked through, she heard the sound of her email-notifier and found an email telling her she'd received a message. Logging in to eHarmony, she indeed found a message waiting for her.

'Hello again. How are you?'

She smiled, and began tapping on the keyboard.

'Hey Eugene. I'm good; as is Pascal. How are you and Isabelle?'

'We're okay. Things at the precinct were rather uneventful though...'

'Same here. I did my early-morning cleaning as per usual, read, cooked, painted, other things... Nothing one could count as 'out of the ordinary'... I did get an idea for a new painting though...'

'Really?'

'Yeah. My cousin Jerry went on holiday to Alaska with some friends and he finally emailed me the pictures (*grumbles* two weeks after he said he would). I'm going to have the silhouette of a person standing on a snowy hill reaching up to touch the multi-coloured Aurora Borealis rippling through the sky above as if they're controlling it.'

'Sounds incredible. I hope to see a picture of it once it's done.'

The young artist tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear with a shy smile, earning her a smirk from her chameleon.

'Thanks, and there'll probably be a picture of it up on my website once I've finished. Anyway, what shall we talk about?'

'How about that?'

Rapunzel cocked an eyebrow at the suggestion.

'*confused* What?'

'About work. You never actually told me how your love of painting started...'

'Oh, I get it. Honestly I'm not sure... Mum and Dad always say that I was a painter long before I could write, which was when I was about four or so...'

'You're kidding...'

'Nope. I was using the walls of my parents' house as a canvas since before I can remember. I'm doing the same thing with the walls of my house.'

'*laughs* Rebel...'

Rapunzel giggled at the comment, but still disagreed with it.

'*giggles* Am not! Anyway, what about you? How long have you wanted to be a policeman?'

'Since I was a kid. My father died when I was three, so it was just me and Mum growing up. On my fifth birthday, Mum gave me this book, "The Tales of Flynnagan Rider", about this charming, rich swashbuckling rogue that went on all these incredible adventures. Some of my favourite stories were the ones where he'd rescue people, and I soon decided that that was something I wanted to do...'

'I admire you for what you do. Going out and defending your city and its people from its criminals...'

'As honoured as I am, it isn't all fame and heroic acts... I've had quite a few near misses...'

Reading his response, she couldn't suppress the curiosity building up inside her.

'You know, you saying that just begs the question... Of all your 'near misses', which was the biggest?'

'My most death-defying experience as part of the NYPD?'

'Uh-hum...'

'Alright then... Well, as I said, being a cop in New York City can definitely come with its risks and life-threatening situations, so over the years I've certainly had my fair share... However, the one that stands out the most definitely has to be the night I got stabbed...'

Rapunzel gasped as she read his answer.

'OH MY GOODNESS! WHAT HAPPENED?'

'My partner Jessica and I were on petrol one Friday night not long after Izzy's first birthday. We were arresting this guy when some woman crept up behind me with a knife. Jessica yelled at me to watch out, but before I could do anything I felt this pain in my side and everything just spiralled into darkness. I'm not sure what happened after that; all I remember after that is waking up in hospital almost a week later with Mel at my bedside...'

Rapunzel instantly felt a sense of sympathy. Going through something like that, and waking up without a clue as to what happened, must be terrible...

'It must've been terrible! Did they catch the woman who did it?'

'Yeah, they caught her about two weeks later. Listen, I really should get some rest... It's nearly 11 o'clock over here and I have work tomorrow...'

'Ok then. Good night, Eugene.'

'Thanks Rapunzel. Sweet dreams...'

Rapunzel smiled at the reply, complete unaware she was starting to slip into her part of the scheme her 'match' was wielding.


Meanwhile, New York City

A fresh sprinkling of glistening snowflakes danced in the gentle wind that blew through the brightly-lit city. While most of the city slept, there were still those who remained awake.

One of those was Eugene, who stood at the window of his bedroom in his pyjamas, watching the falling snow mix with that already on the ground. It was something he'd done many a night with Melissa; one of the many things he wished for.

Turning away from the window, he walked into the bathroom he and Mel used to share, taking in the familiar room. It wasn't the same as when Melissa was around by any means, but, as with the rest of their apartment, there were some things that he'd never been able to bring himself to get rid off.

Shaking his head, he picked up his toothbrush and rinsed it under the tap. Grabbing the tube of toothpaste, he attempted to squeeze some onto his brush, but his efforts were rewarded with no more than a drop the size of a pinhead.

A tired sigh escaped his lips, and he tossed the empty tube of toothpaste into the bin. As he reached up to grab a new tube from the cupboard, he was scarcely aware of the end of a pale line poking out ever-so-slightly from under the hem of his shirthe and the momentary glimpse out of the corner of his eye brought him to a standstill. After grabbing the new tube of toothpaste, placing it on the bench and resting his toothbrush on the edge of the sink, he turned to look straight at the mirror hanging on the wall in front of him.

Slowly, his hand curled around the shirt's hem, before pulling it up to his chest, fully exposing the pale, unbroken scar on the lower-right side of his stomach. Gazing at the reflection of the scar in the mirror, his other hand found its way to his side, tracing a finger over the line.

To this day he could scarcely remember what happened, but he remembered waking up afterwards as if it was yesterday. It wasn't so much the experience itself that kept the memory clear in his mind, but rather the look he was met with when he locked eyes with the love of his life just after waking up.

Eugene closed his eyes as his hand fully rested on the scar, that memory flooding back to his mind...

His breathing felt slow and heavy as he attempted to overcome the invisible weights holding his eyelids closed. His eyes started to open, only to be met with a painfully bright, sterile-looking white colour, causing him to quickly shut them again. Slowly, he let his eyelids flutter, then open fully.

One by one, each of his senses flooded into focus. Instead of the quiet, muffled sounds he'd been hearing for what seemed like forever, he could now clearly identify a short, sharp 'beep' steadily repeating itself, informing him that he was: 1, alive and 2, in hospital. Looking straight up, he was again met with the plain white ceiling, but found it to be less agonising than it was when he first opened his eyes. He looked around a little, his eyes the only part of him that moved, and discovered that each wall matched the ceiling in colour; the same, spotless, sterile-looking white. The room had no scent - a police sniffer dog might pick up a dull whiff off the vigorous chemicals and cleaning agents used to sterilise the room and all it contained, but that was pretty much it - and yet his nostrils could vaguely sense a nameless fragrance far too beautiful and tantalising to resist.

He tried sitting up to look for the aroma's source, but found himself pinned down by something resting on his arm, as well as a dull throbbing in the lower-right side of his stomach.

His movements slowed by the weakness still gripping his body, he turned his head to the right and found a woman sitting at his bedside, her head on his arm and her hand clutching his as she slept.

He gently tightened his grip on her hand, smiling at the rush of emotion that coursed through his body, and instantly found himself falling in love with the young lady beside him.

His tender squeeze stirred her from her slumber. Stretching slightly, she sat up, freezing when she saw him looking at her. Her crystal blue eyes were red and her cheeks stained with tears, but in spite of that, her undeniable beauty rocked him to his core.

A fresh wave of tears cascaded from her eyes as she let out a gasp.

"Eugene!" The young brunette threw herself into his arms, sobbing into the crook of his neck.

Using all the strength he could muster, he lifted his left hand up to her head, and began running it through her long, brown locks, breathing in her calming scent. As he did so, his memory slowly started coming back, reminding him just who the young brunette was; Melissa - his lover, teenage-sweetheart, wife, and the mother of his one-year-old daughter.

After a minute or two, Melissa sat upright, small droplets still leaking from her eyes. Just as he was about to reach up and brush away her tears, she leant down and pressed her lips firmly to his. Once the shock of her sudden, pleasantly unexpected action passed, Eugene gladly melted into the kiss, happy to have her safe in his arms.

A few moments later, she pulled back and rested her forehead on his, whispering, "I thought I'd lost you..."

Eugene shifted slightly, causing Melissa to sit straight, and tried to remember how he ended up in hospital. When this action proved to be in vain, he asked, "What happened?"

Mel sniffed, wiping away a stray tear, "I'm not really sure. Jessica said you were arresting this guy when a woman crept up behind you with a knife. Jess saw her and screamed for you to look out, but you... you got..."

"Hey..." Eugene pulled her into his arms and stroked her back soothingly as she fell victim to a fresh wave of sobs. "It's okay, I'm here now..."

Melissa stayed there in his arms for a few moments, soaking in the warmth of his touch which had until today been absent since the accident. When ready, she continued, despite the tears still rolling down her face, "I was at home alone looking after Isabelle when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door and Jessica was standing there; formal police uniform, hair pulled back, police cap and spotless white gloves on. She sat me down and explained that you'd been in an accident. She said the doctors got you in and out of surgery okay, but she'd just got a call from the hospital telling her you went into cardiac arrest about 10 minutes after coming out of the operating room, most likely from shock and blood-loss."

Eugene clearly heard the cracks in her voice as she spoke, and pulled her a little closer as she proceeded, "I- I was devastated. Poor Jessica had to sit there and stroke my back while I sat there sobbing my heart out. After about five minutes, Jess's phone went off. She went to take it on the balcony, and when she came back she told me that your heart had started up again and you were in a coma, but you would probably be alright so long as you woke up soon..."

"How long was I out for?"

"Nearly a week; it's Thursday and you were... you know..." she trailed off, currently unable to say the word, "... Friday night."

Seeing the fear that continued to linger in her eyes, he pulled her back into his arms, "I'm here now, Mel. And I promise you, darling, I'm not going anyway..."

"You promise?" Her voice was merely a frightened whisper.

Gazing deep into the brilliant blue eyes he loved so dearly, he pledged, "I promise."

Opening his eyes, he again gazed at the reflection of the scar. Looking back now, he could finally see the extent of suffering Melissa had been through in that week; the countless hours of not knowing whether he'd make it or not, that feeling of hopelessness, and the guilt of her inability to drag him back to the land of the living.

All those things she must have been feeling in those desperate hours were what he now had to face every day of his life.

Letting go of his shirt, he quickly brushed his teeth before he climbed into bed, dreaming of - in his mind - the only woman he'd ever love.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

There we go! QUICK QUESTION... Who wants to see Rider tearing through the streets of New York in a cop car?