Love Triumphant -Old Ghosts, Old Loves
Meanwhile Back on Earth
John Grant entered his darkened apartment and threw his keys on the counter. He then moved immediately to pour himself a stiff drink. It occurred to him that maybe he was drinking a little too much these days but it was just one of the many things he was trying not to dwell on.
He should be on top of the world after all. He was a top executive for one of the major security firms in the country. His clothes, his car, and his home were all first class and so were the many women who came in and out of his life. There was no reason on earth why John should feel so empty but he did.
The one time FBI agent had left the bureau about two years ago. John had tried his best to stick it out but he'd become so damned frustrated by the constant politicking and asinine rules. He was also tired of working for bosses with their head up their butts. Boy he missed Bailey his former chief from the VCTF. Bailey was not only brilliant but also as honest and fair as they come. Sure he and John had butted heads a few times but they shared a mutual respect and common goals even though they had different styles of accomplishing them.
They'd both spent countless hours of their own time trying to free Rachel Burke, one of the VCTF's former profilers and a good friend who had been set up for a crime she didn't commit. John supposed his disillusionment with the FBI bureaucracy had its roots in this incident. Instead of allowing the VCTF to do what it was best at and clear Rachel's name, the higher ups had pulled their funding and reassigned all of them to separate divisions. The VCTF members were like family, however, and they'd refused to leave Rachel hanging. It had taken awhile but eventually they'd proven her innocence.
John really missed all of them; Bailey, George, Grace, Rachel and especially Dr. Sam Waters the team's original profiler. A big part of him had been deeply attracted to her yet nothing had ever developed them except for a deep and caring friendship. Maybe that was all it was ever meant to be.
At any rate John would never know now. When Sam had finally ended the Jack of All Trades reign against her with a bullet she had disappeared without telling even Bailey where she was going. She had just written each member of the team a personal letter telling them how much their friendship had meant to her, but that for her sake and her daughter's she had to start a new life away free of the insanity that had surrounded the team on a daily basis. John couldn't say he blamed her. He just missed her friendship.
John also missed the challenge of doing something really meaningful with his life. Designing security plans to prevent corporate theft paid well and no doubt it was an important task. It just wasn't very meaningful to him. He supposed not much, however, compared to the satisfaction of knowing you helped get a psycho serial killer off the street so they couldn't harm anyone else.
He polished off his drink and then decided to call it a night. He certainly didn't feel like watching the news or some crappy rerun on TV, and his mood was so morose that John couldn't even stand his own company. Maybe tomorrow would look at least marginally better he hoped. John undressed and climbed into bed. After some tossing and turning he finally fell into a restless sleep.
A short time later the phone by the bedside rang. John groggily reached for it and snapped "Grant" into the receiver. An obviously distraught woman was on the other end of the line: "John, I'm sorry to bother you, I just didn't know what else to do. I tried calling Bailey but I couldn't get past the machines." John might be a little hazy from the booze and sleep but he recognized the voice immediately. It was Sam's best friend, Angel. He hadn't heard from her in years. "Angel calm down and tell me what's wrong?" he asked his voice immediately softening.
"It's Sam, John." "I was here visiting with we she and Chloe, and we were having a great time and then Sam was taken." John drew in a deep breath. "Taken what do you mean taken and by whom and did you call the locals?" "No," Angel said. "I didn't think they would believe me. I doubt your going to believe me." "Just tell me what happened," he urged.
"Sam had just tucked Chloe into bed and come back into the living room. We were about to start playing catch up on the latest happenings in our lives when this sort of black smoke appeared by the chair where Sam was sitting, The next thing I know it had enveloped her and then it and she vanished."
John wondered briefly if he was having an alcohol-induced nightmare or maybe it was Angel's artist mind that was causing her nightmares. "Angel no offense but are you sure your not imagining it?" "How can I be imagining it? Sam is gone John without a trace and I have no clue of what to do. I shouldn't have called you though. Sorry for bothering you. I knew you wouldn't believe me."
"Angel wait," John quickly yelled into the phone before she could hang up. "If Sam's in trouble you know I want to help. Where are you? I'll hop the first plane I can catch." She hesitated for a moment and then said "San Francisco." John copied down the address to Sam's home," and tried to reassure Angel that they'd find Sam and everything would be okay. He just wished he had someone there to convince him of that statement.
Meanwhile Back on Earth
John Grant entered his darkened apartment and threw his keys on the counter. He then moved immediately to pour himself a stiff drink. It occurred to him that maybe he was drinking a little too much these days but it was just one of the many things he was trying not to dwell on.
He should be on top of the world after all. He was a top executive for one of the major security firms in the country. His clothes, his car, and his home were all first class and so were the many women who came in and out of his life. There was no reason on earth why John should feel so empty but he did.
The one time FBI agent had left the bureau about two years ago. John had tried his best to stick it out but he'd become so damned frustrated by the constant politicking and asinine rules. He was also tired of working for bosses with their head up their butts. Boy he missed Bailey his former chief from the VCTF. Bailey was not only brilliant but also as honest and fair as they come. Sure he and John had butted heads a few times but they shared a mutual respect and common goals even though they had different styles of accomplishing them.
They'd both spent countless hours of their own time trying to free Rachel Burke, one of the VCTF's former profilers and a good friend who had been set up for a crime she didn't commit. John supposed his disillusionment with the FBI bureaucracy had its roots in this incident. Instead of allowing the VCTF to do what it was best at and clear Rachel's name, the higher ups had pulled their funding and reassigned all of them to separate divisions. The VCTF members were like family, however, and they'd refused to leave Rachel hanging. It had taken awhile but eventually they'd proven her innocence.
John really missed all of them; Bailey, George, Grace, Rachel and especially Dr. Sam Waters the team's original profiler. A big part of him had been deeply attracted to her yet nothing had ever developed them except for a deep and caring friendship. Maybe that was all it was ever meant to be.
At any rate John would never know now. When Sam had finally ended the Jack of All Trades reign against her with a bullet she had disappeared without telling even Bailey where she was going. She had just written each member of the team a personal letter telling them how much their friendship had meant to her, but that for her sake and her daughter's she had to start a new life away free of the insanity that had surrounded the team on a daily basis. John couldn't say he blamed her. He just missed her friendship.
John also missed the challenge of doing something really meaningful with his life. Designing security plans to prevent corporate theft paid well and no doubt it was an important task. It just wasn't very meaningful to him. He supposed not much, however, compared to the satisfaction of knowing you helped get a psycho serial killer off the street so they couldn't harm anyone else.
He polished off his drink and then decided to call it a night. He certainly didn't feel like watching the news or some crappy rerun on TV, and his mood was so morose that John couldn't even stand his own company. Maybe tomorrow would look at least marginally better he hoped. John undressed and climbed into bed. After some tossing and turning he finally fell into a restless sleep.
A short time later the phone by the bedside rang. John groggily reached for it and snapped "Grant" into the receiver. An obviously distraught woman was on the other end of the line: "John, I'm sorry to bother you, I just didn't know what else to do. I tried calling Bailey but I couldn't get past the machines." John might be a little hazy from the booze and sleep but he recognized the voice immediately. It was Sam's best friend, Angel. He hadn't heard from her in years. "Angel calm down and tell me what's wrong?" he asked his voice immediately softening.
"It's Sam, John." "I was here visiting with we she and Chloe, and we were having a great time and then Sam was taken." John drew in a deep breath. "Taken what do you mean taken and by whom and did you call the locals?" "No," Angel said. "I didn't think they would believe me. I doubt your going to believe me." "Just tell me what happened," he urged.
"Sam had just tucked Chloe into bed and come back into the living room. We were about to start playing catch up on the latest happenings in our lives when this sort of black smoke appeared by the chair where Sam was sitting, The next thing I know it had enveloped her and then it and she vanished."
John wondered briefly if he was having an alcohol-induced nightmare or maybe it was Angel's artist mind that was causing her nightmares. "Angel no offense but are you sure your not imagining it?" "How can I be imagining it? Sam is gone John without a trace and I have no clue of what to do. I shouldn't have called you though. Sorry for bothering you. I knew you wouldn't believe me."
"Angel wait," John quickly yelled into the phone before she could hang up. "If Sam's in trouble you know I want to help. Where are you? I'll hop the first plane I can catch." She hesitated for a moment and then said "San Francisco." John copied down the address to Sam's home," and tried to reassure Angel that they'd find Sam and everything would be okay. He just wished he had someone there to convince him of that statement.