"Do you really want to know, Diane?"

His thumb slid gently across her palm, sending a bolt up her spine.

"Think carefully. I know what's worth more to you, and I know it's not him."

She froze, staring at the young eyes surrounded by the old face before her, her mind racing through complete blankness. She didn't know. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to care.

How many more times? When won't I need him to save me from myself anymore?

Diane pulled her hand back and he let her go.

"Good girl." He began to rouse, lifting himself from the cold stone bench.

Diane grabbed at his hand, holding it beneath hers. "Wait..."

He continued to stand, but looked back to her. "Yes?"

A lexicon shot through Diane's head like a codekey, highlighting the words from the million questions she had in her mind, but there was only one thing she could think of to say."

"Why?"

The old man laughed aloud into the sky, pulling his hat down around his eyes again. Sliding his hand out from under hers, he circled the table to lean down in her ear.

"Because, dear heart. Just because." In a tiny rush of peppermint and Chivas, he placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Enjoy your promotion, Diane. I know I will."

By the time she'd opened her eyes again, the old man's formless clothes were walking away down the sidewalk in the form of a young man's body.

It took Diane several minutes to fight the urge to scream the name of a dead...

He's dead... he's dead. I swear he's dead...

... man, but she finally stood, patting down her clothes and steadying her world again. As she walked around the table, pulled to where he had been, fleetingly wondering if maybe, just maybe, he'd have left enough of his imprint in that space, a little bit of energy to fill herself with before she went inside, she saw it.