Matchmaker Interlude

by JD



God, he hated this shirt.

Absently running a check on the camcorder tripod, the young man currently known as Smith sighed. Baby blue. And the tie! Absolutely horrendous. Who picked these things, anyway? He wondered if the Judge had anything to do with his present colorful state. He wouldn't put it past him, though as a practical joke it was pretty tame to what he...his thoughts ground to a halt, as he couldn't actually recall ever actually pulling jokes on anyone himself.

But he had the feeling that he had. No proof, just a vague will-o-the wisp impression that fled even as he tried to pin it down. As happened every time he tried to recall his past. Grimacing, he finished tightening the leg clamps and straightened, rubbing his back as he ran his eyes over the bright, cheery walls of the 'Heaven on Earth Video Dating Service'.

Pink. And more blue.

It wasn't that he disliked the color that intensely, he mused as he began sorting through the piles of videotapes, most of which were blank. He liked the deep blue of a summer sky, and the vivid blue of a deep lake reflecting the same. It was just that this particular shade tended to wear on him after awhile. It was kind of fake, in a way. It seemed to insinuate that life was fine and nothing bad could ever happen, kind of like the vapid grins on millions of stuffed animals the world over. Reassuring to the kiddies, but nothing to put your trust into. Much like this whole dating thing. With so much of his past blocked off, he didn't know if he'd ever frequented such a place, but he doubted it. Most of the clients he'd seen peeking hopefully through the door were people who had been burned and burned badly, or never been near the flame of love at all and were becoming desperate for something they likely already had somewhere in their life. If only they would open their eyes and look. Like Rhonda Finkelstein.

It was just so sad that so many people were out there, desperately searching. And it was really so easy. There were many matches, if only people would open themselves to the possibilities.

He himself was young-heck, he looked young at any rate, and he certainly wasn't aging any more, all things considered. Had he had a special girl in his past? Did she still walk the earth and maybe think of him now and again? He didn't like to think that there might be anyone hurting because of him. Because of his death. Of course, he hadn't ended it all himself, committed suicide or anything like that. He'd had his future taken from him by another's hand, with no say in the matter. Though he had reoccurring doubts as to what he'd been doing in his life before he breathed his last.

He hoped he'd been a good person.

At dark moments, he worried that maybe he hadn't been.

Sighing, he popped a blank tape into the machine and started to clear up the mess he'd made, neatly replacing everything where it had been. He wasn't too sure what happened to things he interacted with on his 'missions', but on the odd chance that it might inconvenience some poor sap later, he tried to be considerate. It was almost time for Zeke to come for his free taping. He had to get his mind back on his job, which was currently getting those two lovebirds to admit that they were made for each other. He could think about his own situation later. He had plenty of time for it, after all. There was no rush, anymore.

But he promised himself that he wouldn't stop trying.

After all, God had never given up on him, had He? And he owed it to his Creator, to the Judge, to his unknown family and friends, and even to the new friends he'd made since his death, to keep on.

So he would.

After all, some people believed that miracles weren't real.

But he knew better.