It has been two months since the incident at the Seattle nightclub. And while I've somewhat gotten over the recurring nightmares of the drunkard's terrifying hands. However, I couldn't get my mystery cop out of my head.

I'm curious. I want to know his name. I want to thank him, in any way possible. But I haven't a clue as to who he is. No badge number, an ordinary SUV, and no clear picture in my head as to what he looks like makes it impossible to even try to track him down.

So instead he stays in my head. In my daydreams.

And I have to say, my daydreams have been quite naughty. I keep thinking of his muscular back, and flexing biceps and triceps. I kept thinking about his dark flowing hair and his chocolatey eyes looking at me. There's this look he gave me that is engraved in my head. His eyes soft, showing sympathy and shows a character of kindness. But his eyebrows and his thin lips showing anger and dominance at the same time. It wakes me want to reach out and smooth the lines on his forehead and kiss his lips to make them release its tension instead of running away afraid. I just want to relieve him of all of his problems. But alas, I can only do such things in the confinements of my dreams.

Currently, I am sitting among hundreds of people, in remembrance of the fallen soldiers of World War II. I haven't any relatives who served and/or passed, so I am only here in support of a colleague, Samuel, who lost his grandfather in the war. He didn't want to attend alone, so I gladly accepted his offer to attend.

I looked over at him, I can clearly see the sad expression in his facial features. But I can also tell he is trying to keep it together for his grandfather. I grab his hand, give it a light squeeze and when he looks at me, I give him a comforting smile.

We both turn back to the speaker, as the man taps on the microphone to gain control of the audience.

"Thank you all for joining us today as we give thanks to all those who served us and protected us in World War II. There aren't enough words to express how thankful we are and how much we appreciate their sacrifice."

I scan the room. There are many women crying, possibly wives and daughters. The men looking stiff and attempting to comfort their female family members. I feel sadness and I feel the need to sympathize with everyone here, but I haven't lost anyone personally and cannot begin to try to relate to their pain.

I look down at my lap and try to listen to the man at the podium.

"...let's go ahead and take a look at this prepared presentation of photos of those we have lost." I look up just as he walks off the stage and the lights dim in the auditorium.

A picture pops up of a young man, probably in his early teens, enjoying the sun at a beach. A cry is heard from a woman toward the front.

Next, there is a picture of a man about twenty three sitting atop a military tank (I don't know the exact details as I haven't a clue about these kinds of things).

I smiled sadly. These pictures are the only thing that is allowing us to remember their faces.

I look at Samuel, as a lone tear rolls down his cheek. He notices that I'm looking at him and quickly wipes away the tear and pretends it never happened. He likes to pretend he doesn't cry. I wish he would let it all out. I wish he felt comfortable enough to show sadness. But I let it go. This isn't the time or place to bring up that.

As soon as I look up at the screen I can see my rescuer looking right back at me. Albeit, it isn't exactly him, but he could definitely be his brother. I stared at that image on the projection screen, and felt a ping of lost when the image changed. If my rescuer is in any way related to that fallen soldier, then perhaps he is in this room right now!

My heart starts beating fast, and my breathing started getting shallower. Not because I'm scared. But because I'm nervous and excited at the same time.

I quickly scan the room. Turning my head around at an alarming rate that I don't actually process what I'm seeing. Samuel looks at me questioningly.

"I'm going to look for a restroom." I whisper to him.

I get up and try to quietly exit the auditorium but scan the audience at the same time. I see no signs of my mystery rescuer and sigh as I head out to main foyer in search of a bathroom.