Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Third Watch, but I do
own the characters of Amy Clarke and her family. If there are any
resemblances to any person dead or alive, it is only a coincidence. This
is my first attempt at a fan fic, so it may not be up to the standards of
some that I have read.
Chapter One
The sun of an early September morning streamed into Maurice Boscorelli's room. There was a slight rustle of the bedsheets as Bosco turned his face away from the window, as the sun was trying very hard to open his eyes. No matter how hard the sun tried to open his eyes and awaken him to a brand- new day, Bosco just wanted to sleep. He was exhausted and did not want to wake up. Last night's shift had been one of those shifts that he hated; the ones with a never-ending stream of calls and the relief that the end of shift usually brought. Even though he had gotten home at around midnight, as he usually did most nights, Bosco had fell asleep with the television on, so he had discovered when he woke up the first time at around 2. After that he crawled into bed, without giving a second thought to changing into his pajamas. Next thing he knew, it was 8:24. "Damn it", he thought as he looked at the alarm clock, "only 6 minutes before my stupid alarm wakes me up." For the next 6 minutes or so, Bosco slept like a baby. Then his alarm rang.
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Amy Clarke glanced at her watch. It was 8:30 and the day already was appearing to be a warm one. Because of the early warmth of the day, she decided to take off her jacket and just carry it, it sure far beat getting far too warm so early in the day. It was not going to be easy taking off the jacket, as Amy had a large bouquet of flowers in one of her hands. She never understood why she kept coming to her brother David's gravesite, as it gave her memories of the day he had died alongside 3,000 others three years ago. But she did; maybe it was a sense of obligation that a family should visit the gravesite, maybe he had impacted Amy's life in some way. But she still continued coming, not just on the important anniversaries, but also on the days that were ordinary and plain as day. As Amy walked through the cemetery, the memories of David flooded back to her and caused her to start shedding tears of the brother she had lost so tragically. The gravesite came into to view and she stopped; for some reason she had stopped in her tracks with her jacket and her large bouquet of white roses. Her legs would just not move. Maybe it was a good thing that Amy did not attend one of the public memorials that were being held throughout the city, as she wanted to grieve in private and not with other grieving family members who had lost someone one that Tuesday morning. Even though the firefighters had found David's body in "The Pile", the grieving wasn't any easier for Amy. Despite the fact that Amy's legs were felt as though they had lead inside of them, she managed to get over to David's gravesite and put the white roses on the site. No words came from Amy's lips, as the only sound that came from Amy was the heavy breathing and sobbing. Soon afterwards, Amy was leaving the cemetery not knowing when she would return or even if she would.
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His head felt as though it was going to burst. It was not going to burst due to a large hangover, but because he felt he had slept too much and too intensely. He peered over to his alarm clock. It read 8:30. The clock was making its usual annoying beeping sound and Bosco rolled over to turn it off.
"Damn it." Bosco groaned. "Why do I even think about getting up at this hour?" It was not going to be a good day, especially if his head felt this way after sleeping for what seemed to be an eternity. Despite the fact that his head was pounding inside of his brain, he got up.
"What's the use," he mumbled to himself, "I would sleep half the day away and end up waking up with an even bigger headache."
After taking a quick shower and changing into clean clothing, Bosco went in search of breakfast. He hoped that there was something that was edible or left in the fridge. But there was a strong likelihood that there would be little or nothing left in his kitchen, as he had not made much of an effort to do some food shopping in the past few days. He managed to do some food shopping, but only when it suited him to do so. As he looked through his cupboards and fridge, Bosco realized that most of the food was either growing fuzz, gone, or was smelling very suspicious. His only option was the small diner that was around the corner from his apartment; the small diner with the cute waitress named Amy.
TBC
If you review and give me some feedback, I will be more determined to write more. I welcome everybody's contribution.
Chapter One
The sun of an early September morning streamed into Maurice Boscorelli's room. There was a slight rustle of the bedsheets as Bosco turned his face away from the window, as the sun was trying very hard to open his eyes. No matter how hard the sun tried to open his eyes and awaken him to a brand- new day, Bosco just wanted to sleep. He was exhausted and did not want to wake up. Last night's shift had been one of those shifts that he hated; the ones with a never-ending stream of calls and the relief that the end of shift usually brought. Even though he had gotten home at around midnight, as he usually did most nights, Bosco had fell asleep with the television on, so he had discovered when he woke up the first time at around 2. After that he crawled into bed, without giving a second thought to changing into his pajamas. Next thing he knew, it was 8:24. "Damn it", he thought as he looked at the alarm clock, "only 6 minutes before my stupid alarm wakes me up." For the next 6 minutes or so, Bosco slept like a baby. Then his alarm rang.
----------------------------------------------------------
Amy Clarke glanced at her watch. It was 8:30 and the day already was appearing to be a warm one. Because of the early warmth of the day, she decided to take off her jacket and just carry it, it sure far beat getting far too warm so early in the day. It was not going to be easy taking off the jacket, as Amy had a large bouquet of flowers in one of her hands. She never understood why she kept coming to her brother David's gravesite, as it gave her memories of the day he had died alongside 3,000 others three years ago. But she did; maybe it was a sense of obligation that a family should visit the gravesite, maybe he had impacted Amy's life in some way. But she still continued coming, not just on the important anniversaries, but also on the days that were ordinary and plain as day. As Amy walked through the cemetery, the memories of David flooded back to her and caused her to start shedding tears of the brother she had lost so tragically. The gravesite came into to view and she stopped; for some reason she had stopped in her tracks with her jacket and her large bouquet of white roses. Her legs would just not move. Maybe it was a good thing that Amy did not attend one of the public memorials that were being held throughout the city, as she wanted to grieve in private and not with other grieving family members who had lost someone one that Tuesday morning. Even though the firefighters had found David's body in "The Pile", the grieving wasn't any easier for Amy. Despite the fact that Amy's legs were felt as though they had lead inside of them, she managed to get over to David's gravesite and put the white roses on the site. No words came from Amy's lips, as the only sound that came from Amy was the heavy breathing and sobbing. Soon afterwards, Amy was leaving the cemetery not knowing when she would return or even if she would.
----------------------------------------------------------
His head felt as though it was going to burst. It was not going to burst due to a large hangover, but because he felt he had slept too much and too intensely. He peered over to his alarm clock. It read 8:30. The clock was making its usual annoying beeping sound and Bosco rolled over to turn it off.
"Damn it." Bosco groaned. "Why do I even think about getting up at this hour?" It was not going to be a good day, especially if his head felt this way after sleeping for what seemed to be an eternity. Despite the fact that his head was pounding inside of his brain, he got up.
"What's the use," he mumbled to himself, "I would sleep half the day away and end up waking up with an even bigger headache."
After taking a quick shower and changing into clean clothing, Bosco went in search of breakfast. He hoped that there was something that was edible or left in the fridge. But there was a strong likelihood that there would be little or nothing left in his kitchen, as he had not made much of an effort to do some food shopping in the past few days. He managed to do some food shopping, but only when it suited him to do so. As he looked through his cupboards and fridge, Bosco realized that most of the food was either growing fuzz, gone, or was smelling very suspicious. His only option was the small diner that was around the corner from his apartment; the small diner with the cute waitress named Amy.
TBC
If you review and give me some feedback, I will be more determined to write more. I welcome everybody's contribution.