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Rosy Vee Headwall [Sep. 8th, 2006|06:49 pm]
I have not heard from Jimmy for weeks. He must be angry with me. He should be. Maybe it's better this way.

I have healed from my injuries for the most part. I returned home only long enough to obtain a new assignment. I am in Paris now. There is a gala at the Louvre tonight which I must attend, and a passcode I must obtain.
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Letter to Jimmy [Aug. 14th, 2006|11:09 pm]
[music |"If You Want Me To" by Ginny Owens]

Dear Jimmy,

I am halfway across the world from you, and it is raining. And I miss you. I have been thinking about you. I had business here, don't I always? Things did not go as planned and I ended up with a bullet in my side for my troubles. Do not worry for me Jimmy, I will be fine. But there was a time when I thought I wouldn't be. And lying in the scorching hot sand, my blood pooling around me, I thought of you.

Thought of you on that stretcher, unconscious and vulnerable. Do you remember Jimmy? How close you were to being another victim of the Denver Doctor of Death? I do, I'll never forget it. That feeling, the proverbial light bulb going on over my head and the sinking cold reality of what it meant. You were in there, alone, helpless, with him. A few steps away and I couldn't get to you soon enough. Ripping the IV from your arm just in time I stood there after they carted him away. Stood there looking down on you. You looked calm and peaceful; a dreamy expression on your face and just the slightest bit of drool tricking from the side of your mouth. And I wondered then; did you know? What were your last thoughts? Did your life flash before your eyes? Did you add up your sucesses and sins and strike a balance with God?

And as I lay there, bleeding, alone; I realized it didn't matter. That is the difference between us Jimmy. You have no sins. There is no blood on your hands. You will find peace in this life and the one after it because you're good, kind, and all the wonderful things it means to be human are there behind your pure blue eyes.

And I am sorry if I have ever made you feel otherwise.

In that last moment Jimmy, before the blackness over took me and I was sure it was the end, in that last moment I thought only of you. Of that night in Miami when you danced with me. You made me feel warm and safe and loved. And I thank you for that part too.

I want to see you Jimmy. I know I don't deserve to, but I want to. Will you come?
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And I'd give up forever to touch you, cause I know that you feel me somehow [Aug. 6th, 2006|06:11 pm]
[Current Location |dark cold hotel room]
[music |Goo Goo Dolls "Iris"]

I saw Jimmy. It was stupid really. But being away so long had made me think. Think about how kind he was to me. How he accepted me as an ally, a friend, no matter what he was told to the contrary. He stood up for me, chased me all around the world to see that I was safe. I know no one has ever cared for me like that before.

And it scares the hell out of me.

I remember sitting in lonely hotel rooms wondering where Jimmy was. How close he was too me. And how I let him get closer. Did he know I knew he was there? Just down the street, just around the corner. Sometimes he was close enough to touch but I didn't dare. I wasn't safe, and the truth of it was he wouldn't be safe with me either.

I convinced myself I was doing the responsible thing. Jimmy is a good man and I had to see he didn't get himself killed on his foolish mission to find me. I still don't know what he was thinking coming after me, though I suppose he wasn't thinking. Jimmy doesn't think, he feels. Feels with his whole being. That is what makes him wonderful, that is what will get him killed.

It is strange, how quickly our minds can switch over from one priority to another. My plane grounded in Malta there was little to do and I found no reason to sit in my dank hotel room and watch television. So I decided to explore the local area. I went into a glass shop, and was admiring the beautiful craftsowrk when I saw a glass jar and thought at once that if Jimmy had been there he would have said it reminded him of the bottle on "I Dream of Jeanine." And the thought made me smile. I was running all over the world trying to stop my father's plans to kill hundreds of people and yet I was standing there smiling. What could I do? I bought it for him and carried it all over the world.

And I never gave it to him. It didn't seem right somehow, with the Gunmen gone. And then I left again. My reasons behind that are another story. Then I heard the Gunmen were alive. And once again my world shifted. And I knew I had to see Jimmy.

I followed him one day, till I caught him sitting alone in a coffee shop, though I wouldn't have been surprised to find him drinking hot chocolate instead. He knew I was back but still seemed surprised to "see" me. As if it was not a meeting he expected. I can't say I blamed him on that account, I had given him no reasons to think otherwise.

I sat down beside him before he could get up and offered him a weak smile, all I was capable of at the time. He asked me where I had been and how I was and all I could bring myself to say in reply was "away" and "alright". We chatted breifly and I could tell there was a void between us. Neither one knowing quite how to react to the other any more. The rules had been changed once too often, we'd been separated far too long. But in the conversation-less silence there was still a comfortable familiarity, like a memory that is fading but you hold on to because you know it is precious.

I handed him the box saying that I had something for him. He smiled at me like a child on Christmas morning. He opened it eagerly and seemed pleased with the gift, though I think he would've been pleased with whatever I gave him, happy simply to be remembered. By me or anyone I do not know. He said it looked like Jeannie's bottle and I couldn't help but laugh and smile. He looked at me in wonder, like he'd never heard the sound before. I smiled at him as he thanked me for the gift.

And he kissed me.

It was a light, chaste kiss on the cheek. I shouldn't have been surprised. I had set a precedent before, he was only following suit. I just looked at him. What else could I do? He lingered his face near mine, watching my eyes. And my heart skipped a beat looking into his. They are so blue, so clear. Innocent eyes, strong eyes, gentle eyes.

Too wrapped up in my very unscientific analysis I didn't notice him coming closer towards me until his lips were on mine. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Didn't want to, didn't need to. I was scared and excited and absolutely insane! What the hell was I thinking! But his lips were warm and yielding and I didn't dare pull away. He put his arms around me, gently, as if he was afraid at any moment I would pull away and scold.

Eventually I did pull away, coming up for air or my senses I don't know which. I couldn't look him in the eyes. I stood up quickly and left. Later I left a message on his cell phone telling him to keep it just between us. And I don't know what to do because I can't stop thinking of him. Can't stop wondering what it would be like to be able to not pull away. It is a futile process because I have no such option.

I am leaving for Egypt in the morning. Perhaps a thousand miles of distance might help me cleared my muddled head, and heart.
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12 Days of Christmas... [Dec. 24th, 2005|10:00 pm]
[music |"Where Are You Christmas?" by Faith Hill]

The Twelve Days of Christmas
for yves_adele:
Day #Who?What they got you
1stmf_luderA tiara
2ndtoto_bytesSome sort of mercury-based liquor
3rdmonicareyesThis year’s singing fish: the screaming fish!
4thstarbuck_mdThe key to the city of Atlantis
5thtoto_bytesA curiously warm dinosaur egg
6thjfb_narkA mousetrap
7thtoto_bytesTwo Lumps of coal
8thlord_manhammerA faux fur fedora
9thjimmy_bondA camera with an elaborate lens so that you can spy on the neighbours
10thstarbuck_mdA piece of fruitcake that is obviously several years old
11thtoto_bytesAn 18th Century canon
12thlord_manhammerPills that make your poo smell like freshly-cut grass
Take this Quiz at QuizGalaxy.com
( or, take the 'adult' version at QuizUniverse.com )
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First Post [Oct. 14th, 2005|09:56 pm]
After a close call on my last job I had a revelation. What would happen if I didn’t make it out alive? No one would even know I was dead, nor care. But it seems such a shame I have made so little a mark on the world that my death wouldn’t even cause a ripple. Of course I have only myself to blame. I have kept myself distant, cut off from the rest of the world by necessity as much as design. It is my fault that there will be no one who’ll remember me, who loves me in any way because I have made myself unlovable. But I can’t simply leave it like that. So I will maintain this journal so that I may in some way leave a mark on this life that will not be erased by my death.

My thoughts are not all morbid. This journal can also be used as another was to make contact with business associates and organize a schedule. It is as practical as it is sentimental. So there, once again I have justified my actions so that everything I have done has a purpose, a plan. All in all I think it has been a successful day.
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