Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nothing at all. Savvy? Savvy. And if I did own something, I would guarantee that there would be a series stemming from this movie. I really hope it happens. I loved the movie and I want to know what happens! insert pouting here

Author's Notes: I love the character Michael. He's not my favorite, but I love him to bits anyway. Favorites are Deucalion, Victor, and Erika. But that's not the point. This is just a ficlet, which means it's short on purpose. I live for reviews. They are my oxygen. Flames will be openly mocked. If you are a fan of this movie, join in the riot to get a category for it on the site! Now, on to the story…


Michael Sloane. Detective, partner, friend, resident smart ass.

And master of loosing what he really wanted in his life.

It was right there. Right. There. And yet he never could quite get to it. It was always just out of reach. Like when you were a little kid. You wanted cookies, so you snuck into the kitchen and pushed a chair over to the counter because you weren't tall enough to reach the cookie jar alone. Well that stupid cookie jar was always just out of reach. Sure, you could brush it with your fingertips, but that was it. And then you just wanted to beat your head against something in frustration.

Frustration because Fate just didn't want you to have it? No. Frustration because it was his own fault that he didn't have it. He couldn't blame anyone but himself, though he preferred to pretend it wasn't his fault either. Blame anyone but Michael.

More than once he'd had it in his grasp. More than once he let it go. No matter how hard he tried, he never seemed to get anywhere. It always just seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand and made a mess on his shoes. And then, just when he thought it was finally his, something happened to jerk it away and he was left to lick his wounds alone. Curse his inability to just do something about it!

He could hide it. Hide it behind his sarcasm, hide it behind indifference, hide it behind jokes about how the nanny was hot for him. He could hide it behind many, many masks. But he still felt that pain, that longing deep in his core. That hollow place that seemed like it would never be filled.

Maybe someday he would be able to do something about it. Maybe someday he could just reach out. Maybe someday he could keep it in his grasp.

Maybe someday he would get to finish his damn drink.