^^;; Actually the scenes to this fic were all based on one episode of a TV series, I merely wrote it into a first person POV form, and proceeded to add some hints here and there. I’ve only watched it recently, and the plot just seemed to give me some sort of inspiration to write it, so here it is.

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Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of any of the characters or plot since this is actually based on an episode of a certain TV series that I will neglect to mention.

When I first realized that the colleague of mine who had been kidnapped had been you, I almost lost the calm that I had used as a facade for three full years. All I could think of was that shrill voice in my head that screamed your name in panic, that wanted nothing more than to push pass everybody and fly to you, wherever you were.

Alas, that was not possible. Reeling my emotions in, I calmed myself and gathered my colleagues, praying all the while that the normal husky quality of my voice would be able to cover the slight tremble that laced the edge of my words. The expressions on my colleagues’ faces were no better, as creases and wrinkles filled with worry appeared on the texture and displayed their inner thoughts to the public.

Hastily passing orders to them and attempting to motivate and encourage them at the same time, I realized how tired I was. To live my life in trepidation, to see the dead (and dying) faces of the victims in each of the cases, to see the same worry that had been etched in the faces of the family members of kidnap victims mirrored onto the faces of our own selves.

As my colleagues left the room, I took a long and deep breath, hoping to calm myself, and to collect my wits that had been as scattered as my emotions had been. Finally I gave up, and strode off to fix a mug of tea for myself.

Tea. It has been long since I’ve drunk this type of liquid. Ever since I entered my current line of work, I’ve always relied on a certain brown coloured, bitter tasting liquid to keep myself alert and in check. However, tea was probably the only species of drinks that truly calmed me down. The only drink that helped me lock up my worries temporarily and focus on my work.

Once the contents in the mug had been drained, I filled it again with the soothing, pleasant smelling liquid, and paced back towards my office, where I could begin my own job with some measurements of calm within myself.

~*~

The first time I felt as though I was ready to throttle, maim, mutilate and mince a person all at the same time, was probably when that person who was behind your kidnapping sent us that cassette disk. Listening to the lyrics of the song, I could not help but imagine my hands on that fragile neck, pressing down on his windpipe, enough to pain him, yet still lacking the last bit of force to crush it.

However, I was yet again forced to abandon my childish urges and instead turned to the computer. Where we received the details of the ransom. Crushing another of my immature urges that screeched about how that damned kidnapper had belittled my dear sweet little >censored<’s worth, I proceeded to click on the ‘watch’ button.

Your face, that face that I had always loved, that face that displayed a wide multitude of emotions, so clear for all to see, appeared on the screen of the computer. Cruelly stomping down yet another theatrical urge of mine to kiss the computer screen and to shed the tear that laid right at the edge of the crevices of my eye, I forced myself to focus on your actions. Each time my eyes returned to your sinfully addictive lips, I would slap myself mentally, and viciously turn it back that what I had been looking at.

Locking up my traitorous emotions that were slowing beginning to spill over the high wall I had used to block them with, I turned to my colleagues and began to discuss with them the observations I had made. Slowly, we made snail-like progress into the case. It didn’t matter to me that progress was slow. After all, little progress was better than none at all.

~*~

When your parents came over, when they looked at the little screen where they were presented with the view of you lying inside that god forsaken glass casket, I was quite unsure what to make of the mixed emotions that were rolling in my mind.

Understanding of what they had gone through was one. For, even if they did not know it, I could feel the depth of sorrow that threatened to overwhelm them at every one of your movements. Could understand how hard it was to hold back the tears that threatened to flow from their eyes like a tap. Feel the painful wrenching of their hearts when fact hit them that they could do nothing to ease your discomfort.

The rest, I could not allow myself to pick apart piece by piece, for your parents had already gone off to a side, and I had loads of work to do. Every second mattered, and I could not afford to let myself waste it over my own selfish urges.

~*~

Finally, I was able to see you again. Dismissing the words that I had lip read from you earlier, and tossing away the worry that had bitten me when you were being invaded by those little critters in the casket (for once I could safely say that I have a reason to dislike them), I led the team towards the area where you were supposedly buried in.

When you were finally revealed underneath that think layer of soil, I almost shouted with joy. However, I had to force down the urge to simply toss the glass that separated us away and pull you out, when we were notified of a possible bomb beneath you.

Allowing my colleague to stand up from the glass and alerting the others nearby, we watched helplessly as you panicked. Finally, I gave in, for the first time, to my mental voice, and knelt down before you. Ignoring the cracking sound that seemed to emit from my heart at your panicked struggles, I began to shout to you.

You seemed to finally understand when I used your nickname, the nickname that you had always favoured since childhood. Forcing my hand to not tremble, I placed it on the dratted glass. The warmth that seemed to sip into my body when you placed yours against mine (once again, dratted glass!) calmed my mind, and I hoped that the same would go to you.

Finally, it seemed that the preparations were ready. With the help of a colleague, the glass was removed, and at last, I could come into contact with you. Grasping hold of the hand that desperately seeked comfort, I mouthed silent sweet nothings, hoping that it could, in some way, calm you down. Apparently, that did, and they managed to attach the rope to your belt with no resistance.

At last, the final steps to your rescue. Allowing my legs to pace backwards and my hand to let go of yours, I retreated from the casket with the others, and instead, took hold of the rope alongside the rest of our colleagues.

Within seconds, you came flying out of the (almost buried) pit, courtesy of the pull that came from our rope and the explosion that almost consumed you when you left that casket. In the midst of the chaos that began to rise in cheer of your rescue, a lone tear of relief slowly escaped my iron will and crept down my wrinkled cheek.

You are safe, at long last.

-Ende-

P.s. Supporters (who have already guessed the identities of these characters) of various other pairings of this series, sue me not. I am innocent, and have disclaimed.