Tony stood in the parking lot of C.T.U., watching his co-workers light candles and place them on the ledge near the building. He looked down at the candle in his own hand. Written on the slip of paper surrounding the thick white wax, was the name GEORGE MASON. He looked over at Michelle, who was lighting Paula's candle. After everyone had finished, they formed a semi-circle, reverently staring at the candles, many of them weeping. Tony walked across the circle, all eyes on him, and lit George's candle, setting it in the center of the others. He walked back to his place, and began speaking.
"We light these candles in memory of our colleagues who were killed here two days ago, and for George Mason, who made the ultimate sacrifice for the citizens of this country." He paused, sighing. "It was an honor working with these brave and amazing people, and we couldn't be prouder of our friends. They did all that they could do to protect Americans, and now we must strive to do the same. Our thoughts and prayers will always be with them."
Michelle stared at Tony. She knew how difficult this must have been for him, but he had spoken so well. As the people dispersed, heading back to work, Tony stayed behind. Michelle slowly walked back to the door, but turned around before she went in to see Tony. He was silently crying, leaning forward, and resting his hands on the corner of the ledge. Michelle walked back over to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He glanced at her, and returned his focus to George's candle.
"It should have been me," he said to her. "I gave him a hard time about leaving, I sent him to Panorama City. I should have gone. It should have been me." He smiled weakly. "We both have major guilt complexes, don't we?" he asked. Michelle giggled solemnly.
"What a pair we make." She replied softly. Tony nodded, and hung his head. "But," she continued, sitting on the ridge next to the flames. "Someone wise once told me, that I did all I could have, and that we would get through this together." She said. Tony looked up at her again and smiled. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "Come on, let's go in." Tony consented, shaking his head and standing up straight.
"Thank you Michelle." he said appreciatively. He grasped her hand discreetly, walking back into the office. He left Michelle at her station, and walked to the second floor.
There were construction workers everywhere, securing gerters and measuring, fixing walls, replacing glass, washing blood off the cracked floors. Tony flinched. It felt like a morgue in there. Everyone was wearing black, trying not to cry. He sat down in his seat. He remembered how it had felt 24 hours ago, sitting in that chair, exhausted with grief. 'We're still grieving,' he thought, picking up the phone.
"Dessler." She answered.
"Hey, have we gotten the Civil Response reports from NSA yet?" he asked, looking to her station. Michelle couldn't help but smile and Tony could tell.
"No, they're faxing them over now." she replied staring straight ahead.
"Okay, can you bring them up when they get here?" he requested.
"Sure." Michelle got ready to hang up when she heard that unmistakable whisper.
"Hey,"
She giggled like a kid again, making Tony chuckle. "What can I do for you Mr. Almedia?"
"Turn around."
"Why?" she inquired curiously.
"I want to see your face before we go back to work." He explained. She turned around slowly, trying to hold back her smile.
"I'll go check on those files."
"Yeah." With that they both hung up, and Michelle stood to get the N.S.A. reports. She knew Tony's eyes were still on her, watching her every move. She wondered how much of the time was spent staring at her ass. She could feel his eyes on her. She flipped her head around quickly, smirking mischievously at him. At this he laughed. She had caught. He re-focused himself on his computer, and waited for the papers.
