ASHES
Walking into her house he was hit with the feeling of warmth and love. Her home was decorated in warm colours, filled with large, comfy furniture, and the walls covered with family photos. She ushered him into the living room and encouraged him to make himself at home while she finished getting ready. There was something about her style, her taste which surprised him. Its unique and feminine and yet so elegant. It looked like it could be in a home decor magazine, not that he would ever admit he knew what that looked like.
But there was one item in particular that caught his eye. Placed centrally on the mantel was a vase-like object, beautifully decorated in a navy and white paisley pattern. His first thought was that it matched the wall colour perfectly before it dawned on him what the object actually was; an urn.
He breathed out slowly and reminded himself what he was working with. He knew Karen was a widow, he'd always known that. Glancing at the picture of her late husband next to the urn that held his ashes, Bill gave a quick moment to his former colleague.
He wasn't sure if Karen knew that he and her first husband, Paul, were acquaintances. More than acquaintances, he conceded. They had been school peers in the Academy and then worked in the same unit for the first five years out. Afterwards, their paths had parted but Bill always heard updates on Paul's career through the internal grapevine.
He briefly considered telling Karen about his connection to Paul but then thought otherwise. She might have questions about him from his early days, questions that he didn't feel like answering.
Truth be told Paul wasn't the greatest man. In school he was arrogant, always showing off and picking on the weaker ones. In the field he was sloppy and easily distracted by anything in a skirt. He thought back to the few times the CIA had to 'take care of a problem'.
Bill cringed at the memories. The other agents, himself included, always felt sorry for Mrs. Moray-whoever she was. They heard the jokes he made about her and saw the things he did behind her back. No one had ever met her, but boy did they sure feel sorry for her.
Upon hearing about Paul's, four years ago by heart attack, Bill had flown out to D.C for the service. It was only then that he discovered that Mrs. Moray was actually Karen Hayes, head of Homeland in Washington. He had many conference calls with her but it was the first time he'd ever seen her. His immediate thought was that she was just as beautiful as she sounded. He shook his head for thinking such thoughts. He wanted to offer his condolences but looking at the crowds of people surrounding her, he decided against it and left. That had been the first and last time he'd seen her until that day at CTU.
His thoughts were interrupted by Karen entering the room with her coat and purse.
"Ready?" She smiled and his heart leapt.
"Definitely."
Leaving the house she wrapped her small hand into his and squeezed it gently. It was then that he fully understood that he had been given the opportunity of providing this wonderful woman with everything; everything she wanted, everything she deserved, and more importantly everything Paul had failed to. And damn it if he wasn't going to do right by her.