[A/N: Once again, thanks for all reviews, and keep on reviewing, because I love to read each and every one of them. They really inspire me, believe it or not.
cahkoh – I totally understand you not being able to imagine Michael in the military, but remember, he was the logistics guy? I was hoping that might make up for it, but not everything's perfect. Teehee.
Good news (at least for this story): I've got this story completely mapped out, so everything exists for a reason. Hint: pay attention to details from time to time.
Longer chapter than usual. In fact, I'm a bit annoyed that my chapters are so short. Expect longer chapters, for the most part, from here on out. Happy reading.]
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Michael's POV
New York was refreshing, something I had definitely not expected. The sights and scenes were exciting and enjoyable, and I continued to regret that I had left for Hawaii in the first place. 'Oh, how different my rotten life would be if I had never gone,' I couldn't help but think over and over again. 'How different certain things might be…'
But I refused to dwell on the past, or at least I seriously attempted to keep my head clear and focused. As stubborn as I thought myself to be, however, I couldn't help myself in the occasional moments when I would watch an attractive girl walk by, and instinctively scan her neckline, always looking for one thing, and one thing only--
"Moscovitz! Department meeting in ten minutes, so get rolling!"
I blinked my way back to reality, and shook my head, staring back into my computer screen and the complicated facts and figures that flashed to life. I needed to get back to work.
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Back when I was a minion in high school, I had always wondered why my teachers had dreaded those weekly faculty meetings that sometimes got us out of school early. I now knew why. Although I didn't exactly work at school (hell with the idea), departmental meetings always took a long time. Pointless updates about how we should productively spend time in the office. A bunch of bullshit.
But there was something different in store for us today.
Our project manager stood at the front of the conference room, pen stuck behind his ear, hair sticking up, ready to roll out his daily list of "things to do". The first point he presented, brought cheers from everyone, as we were informed that our main investigator, James Maurer, was ready to begin a new case. And anything new was constantly welcomed these days.
"Yes. Maurer's next case deals with a stock-market fool. You know the type. We've just got a lead that this guy's roaming the streets of urban New York City, but the details are cleverly hidden. He's been here for about two years, perhaps? Maurer needs to find him if we want a good chance of winning the case, because we need the guy to come in for questioning; we need him to admit the things he's done. This particular swindler's high in debt, and he's been running away from the law every second of his life. We need all our computer guys to check up on his whereabouts and we need to get him here as soon as possible." Our manager paused, raising his eyebrows.
"What's his name?" I asked nonchalantly.
"That's what I like to hear, Moscovitz. You up for the task?"
"I can do anything," I jokingly bragged. Suave look on my face. Score one for me.
Our manager grinned, raising his eyebrows in a most subtle manner. "Write this down, Moscovitz. And all the rest of you, too. As far as we know, he goes by the name of Morrison Parker."
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Mia's POV
In all honesty, politics bored me.
If it could all be up to me, I'd be working with Greenpeace until the moment I died. I only entered the political scene, because as much as I hated to admit it, I'd end up making some important political decisions in my life. Genovian politics.
While I was bored with politics, I realized I loved the decision-making involved. I loved being on top of the world, I loved that I was the mastermind behind the way things functioned. It was my role to roll the dice. My role to pick the right cards. And my internship in New York was filled with forks in the road, decision-making galore. With this feeling, I managed to tolerate my chosen job in life without much trouble, but things could definitely have been better.
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Renee was heading off to meet a friend from college after work that day, and I was getting ready to pack up and head back to the apartment. The weekend was in full sight. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Surprise."
The voice was low and belonged to a suave person, and I, puzzled, whirled around to see none other than my "boyfriend" of two years. My surprise turned into sheer joy.
"Conor!" I squealed, dropping my briefcase of papers as I jumped into his arms. He leaned in for a kiss and I let him have it. "What's this?" I asked, as he handed me a bouquet of roses.
"Ah, nothing," he said somewhat mysteriously. "Can't a guy get some flowers for the girl he loves?"
I grinned at him playfully. "Of course he can! I couldn't wish for anything better from the guy who makes me absolutely happy."
He kissed me again and I ran my fingers through his smooth hair.
"How's work?"
"Eh, it's alright. The weekend's going to be absolutely delightful, though."
He smiled. "Come on, I'm taking you home today. But before that, we're going to go out and buy you a new necklace. I'm sick and tired of looking at that plain chain around your neck everyday. You deserve better; my princess deserves all the jewels in the world."
He was so sweet and I loved him for it.
"No, that's okay. This necklace—" I paused for a second, realizing that my heart had sped up slightly. "This necklace is special to me," I finished in a near-whisper. I had hardly talked about the priceless value behind the necklace to anyone I knew, and I shocked myself as the memories came rushing through one by one by one.
"Really?"
"Uh… yes. Really. Trust me, Conor."
He raised his eyebrows, but masked it up with a smile. "Whatever you say, Mia. Why don't we stop by for ice cream then? I'll take you home afterwards."
I couldn't help but grin. "Sounds perfectly fine to me."
"It's the military," he had told me. "I'm not drafted into the army, heck no, Mia, but I'm going to do some logistics stuff for them."
"Really, Michael? You must be excited!" I was young and naïve at the time.
A look of sorrow swept across his face. "Hell, no. There's a lot of catches, Mia, things I didn't notice at first."
My heart plummeted. "Like… like what?"
"I'm going to be in Hawaii for the next four years."
I grinned. "That's wonderful for you! I'll come visit every chance I get, I promise. And you've always wanted to go somewhere exotic, oh, Michael! And," I added slyly, "you can always go and learn to play the ukulele instead of the guitar…"
Michael shook his head, seriousness creating creases in his perfect face. "There's something else, though. The minute I step foot on Hawaiian sand, I'm forbidden to keep in touch with anyone. The information exchanged in my job is supposedly the utmost confidential material in the US military bases, and they don't seem to want to take any risks."
I shook my head stubbornly. "Forbidden to keep in touch? But Michael!" A tear rolled down my cheek.
"I'm terribly sorry, Mia, I really am. I had no idea the situation would turn out like this. I love you, Mia, I love you so much… you don't understand how much this is killing me inside."
I was silent. The world felt like it had come crashing down on me.
He kissed me, and I wished I could drown myself in it.
We stopped at a street vendor's cart on my way home, and Conor jokingly bought me a Popsicle. A Popsicle. One of those super-firework-type Popsicles: red, white, and blue. Cherry, lemon, and blueberry. I loved the childish simplicity of it.
"I'm sorry it's not Ben and Jerry's," he murmured. But I didn't care. I loved it.
He took a plain cherry Popsicle for himself, and the vendor gave us a smile as he watched us: two adults, well out of college, lapping at a stick of frozen sugar water each. "Enjoy!"
We walked down Fifth Avenue, passing the corner café I loved to visit so often, and entered the subway station from the entrance roughly twenty yards away. Everything seemed perfect, in an almost immature way, and we laughed the whole way home.
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Michael's POV
I was sitting at a window table inside The Coffee Hut, one of New York's best places to go and gulp down some caffeine. A whole heck of a lot better than Starbucks, if I may say so myself. I always ordered the same: a mug of black with one sugar cube, and one sugar cube only.
I sipped the steaming liquid as I flipped through my notes on Maurer's latest assignment. This was going to be a tough case, I realized, as I saw all of the precautions our suspect had previously taken. The guy that we were dealing with was overly cautious, and knew how to turn investigators in circles.
My cell phone rang at that moment, and I fumbled to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Yo, Moscovitz! That you, dawg? This is Felix, remember me?"
I grinned and shoved my notes aside. "Felix, my man! How've you been doing?"
"Life's been treating me well. Got this hot chick who follows me around day and night, and I'm seriously thinking of proposing. But before I do any of that romantic sappy stuff, we need to get together and jam some tunes. Relive some Skinner Box. [A/N: I think that's only from the movie, but in the world of Michael, all is wonderful.] We're all under thirty, still, I say we still have the energy to get together and storm the world. You up for that?"
"Definitely, man. Send me some details!"
"Hey, I'll do that. But I have to run, call you later!"
I laughed. Some people hadn't changed at all.
As I stacked my notes up, and downed the last bit of my coffee, I heard a little boy mutter, "Look, mommy! That man's drinking his coffee black… you said that was bad!"
I looked in their direction almost stupidly, then quickly turned away, the boy's phrase sticking out in my mind. 'Mia had never approved of black coffee,' I realized, and gazed out the window one last time. A young couple, more my age, was walking by, the man holding a bouquet of roses, the woman slurping at a firecracker Popsicle.
'That could have been me,' I thought, in reference to the guy. 'If I hadn't given everything up at age 22, in a quest for glory and money, I could be leading a different life right now.' Everything about my life suddenly felt bitter. 'I could have tried out for Rob's band in college, and I heard they're getting some good gigs, who knows? I might not be involved with this computer technology stuff today. I might have been a lead guitarist of some famous band. I could have a girlfriend, not just any girlfriend, I'd have Mia. My Mia. I left her and told her to be happy. I left… I left my princess.' Tilting the cup of coffee as far back as it could go, I licked up the last droplets and stood, more than ready to head on home.
I saw it at that moment. "Holy crap," I whispered.
Dangling from the Popsicle woman's neck was a chain.
A silver chain. An utterly plain and simple chain.
I rubbed my eyes, watching the two retreating figures head down the stairs into the subway station. "Shit," I muttered, kicking the chair in as I pitched the Styrofoam cup into the garbage. My feet felt frozen to the ground, but the rest of me had already leapt out the door. "Shit!"
"Mia," I managed to choke out, wishing she could hear me. "I've waited six years, and I don't think I can wait any longer."
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