A/N: I have two other stories to finish but I'm afraid for the moment my writer's block has writer's block. I know how I want them to end but getting it down on paper, metaphorically speaking, is proving impossible. So, rather than giving up writing completely, I'm hoping that starting something new will help me get back on track. Reviews welcomed.

Disclaimer: The characters, with the exception of those not in the original line-up, don't belong to me they remain the property of Paxson Entertainment and PebbleHut. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

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Same Place, Different Time

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It was a grey and depressing late November morning in Washington D.C., the low temperature a warning to the onset of an early and possibly harsh winter. In the shadows of a nearby doorway a lone figure lingered, collar pulled up against the wind, and watched the scene that was playing out across the street…

The subject of the surveillance was standing on the sidewalk talking with a woman and child, the former laughing as she brushed the odd stray flake of snow from his dark brown hair, a gesture which spoke of intimacy and maybe much more. Tenderly he took her exposed hand, blowing and rubbing it between his own to warm it until the little girl tugged at his sleeve and he scooped her up, holding her in the air then lowering her so he could kiss her before placing her back on the ground. Straightening up he looked around, years of experience telling him that he was being watched, but the shadowed figure had been well-trained too and took a step back out of sight. Not seeing anything suspicious, he shrugged and tried to walk away but the child hung onto him, stopping him in his tracks. Crouching down, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a hug, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear as he spoke, his demeanour soft and gentle. Whatever he'd said appeared to work because she let him go and slipped her hand into that of the woman beside her. The two adults spoke for a few minutes longer then the woman stooped to retrieve what looked like an overnight bag, her coat falling open to reveal a heavily swollen belly. Always chivalrous and protective, the man chastised her, picked it up himself and hooked it carefully over her shoulder before removing his gloves so that he could do up her buttons to protect the unborn child from the elements.

The snow had started to fall more heavily and although reluctant to leave, he leaned in, gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked with a slight limp that wouldn't have been noticeable to anyone who hadn't met him before the accident, towards the entrance of the imposing concrete structure of the Hoover Building with its flags blowing in the breeze. Stopping at the door he gave them both a wave which the little girl returned enthusiastically until he disappeared inside.

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