One Hello

"When are you coming in, because we're waiting for you," Emma greeted as she walked up to Dave.

Turning his head, Dave looked at the woman who had captured his young heart all those years ago – before life had changed him. Long before he had met Emily. "Hello, Emma. I was wondering when they might send you." He was tempted to move over and let her sit down, but at the last moment, he stayed where he was.

"You haven't gone thru the gates, yet," she remarked wistfully. "I thought you might be doing a tap dance past St. Peter."

"I need to do some thinking," he replied absently.

"But you have permission to go in. What are you waiting for?" she wondered, though she had her suspicions.

"It's not right."

Emma smiled, but she was confused. "What isn't?"

"That I'm up here."

"You've had your moments," she admitted with a slight sarcastic snort, "but your good deeds out weigh all of your sins. You've earned your place; take it."

Dave flicked his gaze downward. "I should be down there. I should be with my family."

"You should. But from what I've seen, the two people who can make a difference haven't voiced it. Maybe you should consider staying here," she suggested matter of factly.

"My daughter is down there," Dave argued. "She needs me."

Emma nodded sympathetically. "But what about Emily? Does she need you?"

Dave opened his mouth, then closed it. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Do you think she would keep Claire from you?"

"I don't think so," he sighed. "But the pull the Ambassador has might be too strong. I'm afraid that she may use her influence to exact revenge." He thought for a moment. "Which, I suppose, is understandable. Had a man done to my daughter what I did to Emily… Let's just say that my owning a gun…" he left the rest unsaid.

"I heard what Emily's mother said about you," Emma confessed.

"You don't think I would do what she claimed, do you?" he challenged. Too many years had passed between them, too much water was under the bridge, but he hoped Emma could remember the man he had been before life had jaded him. But he also hoped that she had seen the man he had become in the past four years.

"I think," she began slowly, choosing her words carefully, "that the David Rossi who left the Marines and joined the FBI would have taken Claire away from Emily in a New York minute without a glance backwards."

"Gee, thanks," he groused. He made a move to get up.

Emma reached out and touched his arm to still him. "But the Dave of recent would never do that. You would want what is best for her."

"I do. I want to be there for her. I want to be there for Emily."

"Even if it means that she won't let you?"

"I am going to do everything to make sure that she believes I've changed."

"But…?" Emma prompted.

He dropped his shoulders. "There is something the Ambassador said that is eating at me." Emma raised her eyebrow. "She suggested that I threw myself in front of the shooter and Claire for purely selfish reasons."

"And you didn't?"

"Hell no!" Dave looked around and gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry. No, I didn't," he amended. "I did what anyone would have done. Still…"

"Still?"

"I don't understand how everything went so wrong," he mused. "We were all at the panic room. We had time to get to safety. Why did Claire have to get her doll when help was on the way?"

"Because I told Ray to tell her to get her doll."

"You what?! You nearly killed my daughter? Why?" Dave was angry – and rightfully so! But he was also confused.

"Because it wasn't about Claire; it was about Emily," Emma replied.

"You were going to kill Emily?!" Dave tried to wrap his head around the revelation.

"It was her time."

"No!" He tried to deny it.

Emma nodded. "Yes."

"I thought I was supposed to save her. I thought that is why Zoe showed me the Christmas future," he argued. "I was supposed to save her from being shot."

"No. You weren't supposed to save her."

The logical part of Dave tried to understand the reasoning, but he came up short. "If I wasn't supposed to save her, then why was I there?"

"To save everyone else," she replied simply. "You managed to throw a monkey wrench into heaven's plans. As always." Her blue eyes were soft without being accusing.

"It's a natural born talent, what can I say?" he said with a slight snort. "But I didn't save everyone." The memory of the Marine who died in his arms flashed. He never did get a chance to tell the young man's family his bravery under fire. And with every thing that was happening, he had forgotten to send Zoe's mother a Christmas card. Regret made him hang his head.

"Are you alright?" Emma inquired.

"No. I guess you could say that I have unfinished business down there." He let out a long breath.

"The Marine and Zoe's mother."

Dave was flummoxed by the statement. "How did you know?"

"It's my business to know everything. Now that Emily is not on the list, I have to find another to guide."

"And my name came up?"

"You could choose to stay. You've met all the requirements for being able to walk thru the Pearly Gates," she offered.

"I don't think St. Peter is too happy with me." Dave checked out the patron saint at the podium outside the gates of heaven. He shouldn't be afraid, but too many years of Catechism taught under the watchful eyes of strict nuns came back to make him question Emma's invite.

"He's not as bad as he looks. I want you to stay."

Dave hesitated. "I don't know…"

"There are no worries up here; everyone you love is here."

"Jason Gideon isn't on that list," he reminded with blanch. "Virginia wasn't big enough for the two of us; I doubt heaven will be any different."

"Grudges don't hold up here."

"You don't know Jason."

Emma sighed. "I know him well enough. I know you, too. And the both of you are the two most hard-headed men I've ever known. At least now I know why Zoe was put in charge. She has the patience of Job."

"I know." But the accusations Ambassador Prentiss had lobbed still rang in his ears. He didn't think that he was selfish – arrogant, perhaps, but not selfish. But he did love that little girl more than life. There was a part of him that wanted to stay, but…

"What's on your mind, Dave?" Emma inquired.

"Something Emily's mother said. Claire has never called me 'daddy'." His heart ached at the realization that his little girl had never used the endearment. "She's always called me 'Mr. Dave'."

"I see. But that's not all…"

"Em's never told me that she loves me."

"And that would make you go back?"

Dave nodded. "Yes. Yes, it would." He couldn't give up hope that the look in Em's eyes as she tended to his wound was nothing more than a fluke. He had to believe that she truly loved him and wanted him back in her life. If not, then everything he ever accomplished was for naught.

Emma was quiet for a long time. "I see," she said with a nod. "I'll let you alone to think." She patted Dave's shoulder softly, then turned around and walked away.