Jim Reaper's Residence 1530 hours
Jim was outside the main door when the telephone rang. For an instance, he considered ignoring it and letting his answering machine do its work, but then he quickly unlocked the door, and ran to where that irritating piece of communicating device was.
He was five feet away when his answering machine took over.
"Hello, Reaper" his voice spoke. "Please leave a message." Beep.
"Jim, Vanessa here. Please let the team that I will be away from Washington for the next few days and will be uncontactable. I will not be bringing my handphone."
Jim ran over, and picked up the phone, only to hear the dial tone. Vanessa had hung up.
This is strange, he thought as he replaced the phone on its cradle. He had not known her for a really long time, but leaving the team like that without leaving a contact number was very unlike of Vanessa. Moreover, this trip did not seem to be planned beforehand. He had met her along the corridors of Station X a few days, and she had not mentioned anything about leaving Washington. Nor was there any indication. Or was there?
---
Station X, three days ago
Special Agent Jim Reaper and Special Agent Leo Jones entered the office of ZULU when they were surprised to see a unfamiliar female figure in the shadow standing next to the laser printer. For half a second, Jim contemplated drawing his gun, until Leo told him.
"Relax, its Agent Lee."
Vanessa looked up at the sound of his voice.
"Hi," she said, as she retrieve yet another piece of printout. Jim looked at her for a while before he realise what was it that made her unrecognisable. She had a new hair cut, cutting her long hair till it only reaches the tip of her hair, with the side tucked behind her ears, making her hair looked shorter than it really was. She had on a white t-shirt, a pair of denim shorts and a pair of Nike track shoes. He had not seen her dressed like this before, and it made her looked shorter and younger than he could remember.
"How's your wound?" She asked Leo.
"Much better, thank you. I just returned from the hospital, and they said that I no longer had to go there to change the bandages."
"Well, that's nice. Hospitals are not exactly the kind of place anyone should visit regularly."
Leo laughed. "I have to agree on that. That was what I was telling Jim just now, he insisted on going along."
That raised Vanessa's eyebrows, which made Jim having to explain.
"You do not expect me to leave him alone when he wanted to drive with that shoulder of his right? Of course, I had to drive him there."
"He got a point there, Leo. You should not drive with that injured shoulder. Let it rest."
"I don't think I had a say in that. He took my car keys." Leo told her, which made her laugh.
"Anyway, are anyone of you meeting Jordan later? I got to pass this to him." She waved the printed report in her hand.
"What is that?" Jim asked.
"Report detailing why do I have to pump a man full of holes when I should just injured him with one shot."
"Paperwork," Leo said with a chuckle, noting her distaste.
"You're right. Paperwork. So are you meeting Jordan?"
Both men shook their head.
"That's fine, then. I will just leave it on his table. I'm going to the hospital now."
-----
The phone rang again, breaking Jim's train of thought. Without a moment's hesitation, he picked it up.
"Vanessa?" He asked, thinking that it was her calling back.
"Reaper? Stern here. Are you expecting Agent Lee?"
"No." He told Jordan about the phonecall.
"I think I know where is she going. She needed the time alone." Jordan informed him after a pause.
"Somewhere to hide and grief? That is so unlike her."
"Not exactly that. Actually I called because I just got a message from Doctor Sissy Lane a few hours ago. I had been trying to contact you since."
Jim checked his handphone.
"Handphone battery's flat," he told Jordan. "So what is the news?"
"Starling is dead."
"What?" Jim was surprised.
"There are a explosion at St Vincent's earlier this morning at 3am, in ICU, due to some technical problem. The doctors said that he did not suffer."
"Explosion? Was it the Crosses' doing?"
"I don't think so. One of the machines overheated and exploded, causing a fire. Luckily, there was no other people inside the room at that time. A nurse outside the ward was hurt. I heard that the body was quite badly burnt though."
Jim swore.
"St Vincent's was very apologetic about the whole thing of course, and rather scared that the Starling would sue them. George Starling had flew back to New York, so his wife took over, settled everything and took the body back asap. She was obviously upset, but composed, and wanted everything to end as soon as possible. Her plane left at 12 noon. I believed that Vanessa is flying over for the funeral."
"When is the funeral?"
"Tommorrow 8am."
"The place?"
"According to Doctor Lane, the family had a burial plot in Long Island. The funeral will take place there."
-----
The next day, Long Island, 1605 hours
Vanessa made her way among the graves, careful not to step on any flowers. It was raining, but she did not bring an umbrella along. Her trenchcoat had a hood, and she pulled it up and covered her hand. A large wrapped article, and a bouquet of flowers were cradled in her hands, slowly getting wet in the rain.
Ellen Starling had called her the day before, informing her about Chris' death. By the time she had rushed to the hospital, the body was already gone, and Ellen Starling had been polite, but cold.
"I know that it is not your fault that he was dead, but I would appreciate it if you did not try to contact us again. My husband and I needed time to rest. Chris had been such a part of our lives. He loved you, and I believed that you loved him, but the memories we had with us are the lovely times the three of us spent together. It is something which no one had changed, and no one would ever change that. The funeral would be held in Long Island, and I am sure you will be too busy to attend it. My husband and I understood."
Respecting her wishes was one of the last things Vanessa was able to do for Chris, and so she did not attended the funeral, only standing a distance away, like a stranger, when she should be by his side.
His grave was the newest, next to Grandpa Starling, another lawyer. New, polished, and wet. Carved on the tombstone was his name, year of birth and year of death. There were many flowers on the tombstone, and Vanessa put hers on top, sure that no one would would notice the extra bouquet.
"Hi, Chris. Guess we never get the chance to be really together. I'm sorry that I did not attended your funeral just now, but your parents are rather upset. I can't blame them for that. Afterall, if it was not for me, you would never been pushed off the fire escape route. X-files brought us back together again by bringing me to Washington, and then it tear us apart. Ironic isn't it? I guess I just have to get used to that single's life again. "
"I had called Robby and Nive in Europe. Robby is very busy right now, but Nive said that she would try to come back tomorrow. I'll bring her here to see you. Its such a pity that you have to stay so far. Much as I would like, I don't think that I can come here everyday just to talk you. "
She bent down and placed the large wrapped article on the floor.
"You know, Chris. We Chinese have this habit of burning things to the dead. It is supposed to enable the people on the other side to receive it. I hope you'll get this. Its a painting I did myself. Of me,and you, in your house. I really hope you get it, and you'll keep it."
Slowly, she tore away the wrapping, to reveal the completed painting that Jim had seen in her apartment, set on a cardboard. Taking a lighter from her pocket, Vanessa torched the top two corners of the picture, and stood watching, as the flames grew larger and gradually ate up the picture under the drizzle. She stood there, silent, until the whole picture was nothing but blackened, burnt crisp.
"The pain will fade, the wounds will heal, but I'll alway miss you. I'll always miss you, Chris." She said as farewell, before she made her way out of the cemetery.
By the time she walked back to the the main gate where her rented car was parked, the drizzle had stopped. Somehow, she was not surprised to see Jim there, dressed in black, his hand still holding an umbrella.
"Let's go back," he said, as he put his arm around her shoulders and led her into the passenger side of the car.
nrpg : the Crosses really have nothing to do with Chris' death! really!