Angie glared at the door and whoever was behind it, knocking. If it was Rollie again, she was going to let him have what for. She wasn't in a mood for it. She was tired of his mothering her and... Well, she was tired of it. Why couldn't he listen to her? She was a grown woman! More than capable of taking care of herself. Why couldn't Rollie accept that? The blonde grumbled to herself as she went to answer the door.

NYPD Detective Palmira "Mira" Sanchez stood there, her hand raised to knock again.

Angie stared at her in surprise. Mira looked awful... Like... Like she had been crying. Suddenly Angie felt a knot in her stomach. Had something happened to Frank? Francis Gatti was Mira's partner and a very good friend to both Rollie and her. "Mira?"

"Angie. Can I come in? I... There's something I have to tell you."

"What's happened? Is it Frank?"

The Hispanic detective guided the blonde inside and carefully shut the door. She then guided Angie to the couch and pulled her to sit down. "No, Angie. It's not Frank," she answered softly.

"Then what? Mira, I don't understand." Angie looked at her friend, bewildered. What was wrong?

"Angie, there... There's been an accident." Mira paused and took a deep breath. "Rollie... Rollie is dead."

Angie opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. NO! It couldn't be! Rollie promised. "No," Angie moaned. "NO! You're wrong, Mira. Rollie can't be dead. He promised! He promised he wouldn't leave me!" Angie shouted in denial.

Mira caught Angie's wildly waving hands in her own. "Angie. Angie, there isn't a mistake. I... I saw him. He's dead, Angie. Rollie is dead."

"No," Angie shook her head, stunned. "No."

"It... Rollie saved a couple of kids... little girls... twins. They would have been hit by a car. The... The doctors said... said... His neck was broken. Death was... It was quick, Angie. He didn't... He didn't suffer."

"No, Mira." Angie's anguished eyes filled with tears. Rollie couldn't be dead! He couldn't... If he was dead... Her last words to him were spoken in anger. NO! He couldn't die like this! Not without giving her a chance to tell him... Tears fell down her face, unnoticed. She started to rock back and forth. No... No... No...

"Oh, Angie." Mira reached out and hugged the younger woman close. "I know... I know..." Her own tears returned and flowed, unashamed. They had lost a good friend and the world would be a lot poorer without Rollie Tyler in it. Angie Ramirez had lost more than a friend though. She had lost her partner, her family. Mira, tough as nails cop, sat there and cried, holding her friend, trying to offer what comfort she could, painfully aware that it wasn't enough. It could never be enough.

Angie buried her head on Mira's shoulder and wept. Her tears of anguish and loss fell silently. No... No... No... She cried as if she would never stop crying. Why? Why did Rollie have to die? And why now? When she had been mad at him? Before they could make up with each other. Before she could tell him... She loved him and she was sorry for her anger, her hurting words. She didn't want her last memories of Rollie to be the pain in his warm brown eyes. Pain she had placed there. She wanted to tell him she was sorry. So very, very sorry. "Sorry" was the last word Rollie had said to her before she'd slammed the door shut in his tired face. Except now... She was the one who was sorry. Oh, Rollie! Angie hiccupped and looked up at Mira, her face full of sorrow and pain. "I... I yelled at him." She whispered. "I was so mean... It wasn't that important. Oh, Mira! The last things I said to him." She pulled away and looked across the room. She didn't want to see Mira's anger or her pity or... "I'll never get to tell him... I never got to tell him... I'm sorry. Oh God, Rollie! I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it! I'm so sorry!"

Mira gently touched Angie's shoulder, then took hold of her hand. She stroked Angie's blonde hair. "Angie. Angie, Rollie knows. He knew you didn't mean it. He knew, baby. He knew."

"How?" Angie whispered in a tiny, lost voice. "How could he? I never told him... I never..."

"Rollie knows because he knows you, Angie. He knows you didn't mean it. He knew long before... He knows. I promise you that, Angie. Rollie knew you didn't really mean what you said."

Angie shook her head in denial. Rollie had died, their last words... her last words to him, were of spiteful anger. She started rocking back and forth again. She didn't want him to die with those words in his ears. It wasn't fair! She didn't mean it! She didn't!

"Angie... Rollie knew you cared about him. Just like you know he cared about you. He loved you, Angie! And you loved him! You know Rollie knew that! You know it!"

The blonde gave a slight, bitter laugh. "Love? Rollie doesn't know that. I... I never... I never told him that I loved him. Oh Mira, why? Why did this have to happen now?!? If... if Rollie had to die, why today? Why not tomorrow? After I... we... After... Why now?!? And why him? Why not me, instead?"

"You're wrong, Angela Ramirez. Rollie Tyler did know that you loved him. He knew because he loved you. You've known each other for a long time. Rollie didn't need the words. Just like you didn't need words from him." Mira wanted to shake the special effects artist. She wanted to pound her words into her head, her heart. So Angie could know... What Mira knew and believed with all her heart. Rollie loved Angie and would know that any words said in anger... meant nothing. Not really. Just silly words that sometimes passed between those who loved each other. Will you, nil you. She felt afraid. What if...? Angie wouldn't... She couldn't! "Angie, I don't know why Rollie died... I... I know that two beautiful little girls would be dead now, if... If Rollie hadn't the courage and the heart to save them. He did it because... that's Rollie. He couldn't stand by and not act. You know that! You know it! Five... They're just five years old. They don't understand what's happened. They don't understand why Rollie didn't get up after..." Mira pulled Angie around to face her. "You, of all people, couldn't ask Rollie to not act... To... to... change the way he... Angie, can you honestly tell me you would expect any less than this from Rollie Tyler?"

"No," Angie shook her head, fresh tears flowing. She would never stop the tears. "Rollie... Rollie... did what he had to do. It... It... was fundamental to his... his... very heart and soul. But... Mira... Mira? Why did it have to be... after... after I said those things? Why did Rollie's last memory of me have to be of...? Why do mine have to be...? Oh Mira! I hurt him. I saw the pain in his eyes and I hurt him! And now... Now, I can never tell him I'm sorry. I didn't mean it! I didn't!!!"

Mira sighed and pulled Angie into a hug. "He knew that. He really did, Angie. If you won't trust yourself on this... Trust me. Trust Rollie."

"Mira, he was so tired. We've been working so hard lately. And... and today, I didn't help him as much as I should have. I... I... was so angry and... and it was.. it was nothing! Not really. And... Rollie... Rollie didn't get mad at me. He just was... He was worried about me. Me! He was so tired and all... all he did was worry about me... and... and I yelled at him. I told him... I told him... I didn't need him. And he looked at me..." Angela Ramirez buried her head in her hands, weeping deeply in guilt and grief. It was bad enough that Rollie was... was dead... But why did it have to be...

"Oh, Angie." Mira clucked and stroked her hair gently, wishing she could give Angie the absolution she desperately needed. Wishing, but knowing... There was only one person who could... Except he was gone and Angie would never hear...

"Did you know the last thing... The last thing Rollie said to me was... He was sorry. He was sorry!" Angie looked up into Mira's dark, concerned eyes.  "He was sorry, but he hadn't done a thing except... Except worry about me! Why did I get so mad? It was nothing. Nothing!"

Mira knew she couldn't say anything to help. Angie would have to find forgiveness in her own heart. If she didn't... The detective shivered. If Angie didn't, they might be mourning not one friend, but two. Damn it! Why did Rollie have to die? Why here? Why now? Why?!? She sent her anguished, angry cry, silently from her heart, to heaven. But there was no answer. There could be no answer. She held tightly to her friend, trying to comfort someone who couldn't find comfort for herself.

Sorry, Angie heard Rollie's last word to her whisper in her soul. So soft... The faintest echo. I'm sorry. I'm sorry too, she thought back. I didn't mean it. I didn't. I love you. Luv came that faint echo of a stilled voice.

The detective was wondering if Angie had any sedatives. It seemed to be the only way to calm the younger woman's tears. Not that Angie didn't deserve her tears and more. It was just... "Angie. Do you... Do you want to...?" How did she ask this? How could she ask it?

"I...," Angie hesitated for just a second while her voice screamed inside of her head, "I want... I want to see him, Mira. I... I have to... to see for... for myself..."

Mira nodded in understanding. There had been so many tricks and cons. So many lies told to both partners in the past. Angie needed to see Rollie for herself. So she could know and not end up wondering if... "All right. When you're ready, I'll... I'll take you to the morgue so you can..."

The visit to the morgue was perhaps the hardest thing Angie Ramirez had ever done. The sight of Rollie's still form tore at her heart and started the tears flowing once more. Angie wondered if her tears would ever stop. They seemed endless and forever. At least he looked peaceful and calm. Almost like he was sleeping. Almost, but no... He wasn't asleep. Rollie Tyler would never tease her, never laugh, never hold her. He was gone and there was nothing she could do about it.

Arrangements for the funeral were simple, because Rollie had already paved the way. Casket selected, minister, service, everything was picked out and ready, waiting for the day he died. Like a sleepwalker, Angie Ramirez went through the motions. She heard, but didn't hear the words of the minister. Heard, but didn't hear the words of friends and... No, there wasn't any family. They hadn't been able to find Rollie's father, Dingo, and they were told that Mangela knew when they called to notify him. Knew? How could he know? But that was Mangela, he always seemed to know when it came to his adopted son.

Finally, Angie Ramirez stood on the edge of Uluru, trying desperately to say her last farewell to the best friend and family she could ever hope to possess. Even here, Rollie had paved the way and eased the possible blocks to his last request - to have his ashes scattered to the winds of home. Words failed her and she stood, tears flowing silently as the wind tugged and slowly spread all that was left of Rollie Tyler across his beloved Outback. A lone eagle rode a thermal high above the famous rock.

Her final duty to her boss, best friend, partner, family complete, Angie climbed slowly down and began the long road home. Home? What was home without Rollie there? Where was home? She didn't know and did the only thing she could, returning to New York City and, finally, 256 Brewery Lane. Hers now, inherited from her father and... from Rollie Tyler.

"Angie, if there's anything you need or... if you want to talk... or," Mira stumbled over the words, knowing that there was little comfort for the younger woman. To be so alone! It was wrong. Hopefully, one day, Angie would find someone, but until then...

"Thanks, Mira. Right now, I... I just want a shower and bed. I..." Angie shook her head slightly, not wanting to think or feel anymore. She opened the doors to Rollie's... No, her home and looked around. "Lights, Blue!"

The little robot barked and the lights flickered on.

The blonde turned toward the steps leading upstairs and stumbled back, her hand covering her mouth. "Oh my God! MIRA!!!"

Mira Sanchez darted inside at Angie's call. "What? What is it, Angie?"

Shaking, Angie pointed toward the still form crumpled at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh my God." Mira echoed Angie's words and hastened to sink to her knees beside the body. For it was a body, a very real dead body. Cautiously, she verified that there wasn't a pulse and then pulled something away from it's head - a mask. "My God, it's Loubar."

"Loubar?" Angie asked, puzzled. She stayed well back, having no desire to see more closely or clearly.

"Victor Loubar." Mira glanced around with sharp eyes. "Looks like he broke his neck, Angie. Probably fell down the steps."

"What? That doesn't make sense. What was he doing here anyway? With... with..."

Mira stood and swiftly moved to Angie's side. "I don't know, but that's the way it looks to me. We'll let forensics and the lab sort it out. You can stay with me for now. Just let me call them and I'll take you to my apartment. Okay?"

Stunned, Angie just nodded as Mira guided her out of the building. A short time later, the detective had a squad car there to keep an eye on things and to admit the forensics team and coroner. She shook her head and joined Angie in the car.

"Why was he there, Mira?" Angie asked as Mira started the car and pulled away from the old brewery. "Why? Why now? What did he want?"

"I..." Mira licked her lips. She had a pretty good idea that Loubar was there to torment Angie again. The wig he wore was just like Rollie's hair. How would Angie take that? Or worse, what if she'd come home to find Loubar waiting as Rollie? My God! The sadistic nature of Loubar's plan was appallingly clear. To prey on Angie's grief like that...

"He was going to pretend to be Rollie again. Wasn't he?" The blue green eyes peered over at Mira with a knowledge that was older than time.

"Yeah. I think so," the detective admitted reluctantly.

Angie was silent until Mira parked her car in the covered parking for her apartment. "I'm glad he's dead." The words were quiet and sincere.

Mira watched Angie walk to the elevator. "Me too," she whispered before joining her friend.

Three weeks later, the 'crime scene' had been released and Angie was ready to move in again. Mira, Frank and Sarah were sure it was too soon, especially after discovering Loubar's body, but she was unswervable from her course. Finally, patience used up, the Ramirez temper flared and she put her foot down. "No. I'm going home. I don't care what you say. It's time." And go home, she did.

Truthfully, Angie thought it would be hard, that the brewery would be cold and big and empty and lonely. But it wasn't. From the first moment she set foot inside, it felt warm and friendly. As if the old building was hugging her, welcoming her home. Almost, she could imagine hearing the whispered words, 'What kept you? Why were you gone so long?'

Warmth and laughter seemed to lurk in the corners and she felt... safe and loved. Maybe it was because it belonged to two of the most important people in her life. Maybe it was the memories. The knowledge that Loubar died here, at the foot of the stairs, didn't trouble her. That he'd tricked her here, didn't phase her. Angela Ramirez knew she was home.

Only one thing troubled Angie. Why had Loubar fallen down the stairs? There wasn't anything to trip over at the top. So what had happened? Determined, she reviewed the security footage. She'd given a copy to the police investigators, but still had the original. She watched, bewildered, as Victor Loubar staggered backwards, a look of absolute disbelief on his face and fell to his death. But there wasn't anything there. She could see that. So what had Loubar seen? The smallest of movements at the corner of her eye made Angie spin around. She looked carefully, wondering what she had seen or almost seen. Her pounding heart started to slow as a feeling of love and warmth seemed to gather itself around her, to hold her and hug her. She hissed as a thought threaded its way to her conscious mind. "Rollie?"

'Luv'

"Rollie? Are you here?"

'Yes.'

"Why? Where are you? Can I see you?" Slowly, moment by moment, an eternity later, Rollie Tyler stood looking at her, his brown eyes full of uncertainty. He was wearing the jeans and shirt he'd worn the day he...

'Angie'

"Oh Rollie!" Tears filled Angie's eyes and slowly overflowed. "I've missed you so much." She swallowed. "Except you've been right here all along. Haven't you?"

'Angie, don't cry. Please, sweetie, don't cry. I'm sorry.'

She stood up and moved in front of the Australian, her eyes drinking in the sight of the man she never thought to see again in this life. "Don't... don't apologize, Rollie Tyler. You have nothing to apologize for." She reached out as if to touch him, hold him, then dropped her arms. " I... I've missed you."

'I didn't mean to leave you alone.'

Angie laughed slightly. "Looks like you didn't. Rol. Why are you here?"

'Love you. Protect you.'

"You pushed Loubar down the stairs?"

'No, not exactly. He was going to hurt you. I told him to leave you alone or he'd have to deal with me. I guess I... He stumbled back and fell.'

"Are you going to go away now?" Angie held her breath, waiting for the answer.

'Do you want me to leave?'

"I... I don't know what to say. I... Oh Rollie. I'm sorry! I didn't mean those things I said. I... I love you! I've always loved you."

'I know. I love you too, Angela Ramirez. Never forget that! Never doubt it!'

"Is it okay if... if you stay? Will it... hurt you or... something?"

Rollie smiled at her and Angie felt her heart stop at the warmth and love of that smile. 'I'll stay.'

Time passed and Angie never shared the secret presence in the workshop with anyone. Once, Francis remarked that the old building felt warmer and she smiled a secret smile. She carried on the work of Manny Ramirez and Rollie Tyler, gradually making her own reputation in the field of special effects.

'Angie.'

Angie stopped her humming and looked up from where she was working on an elaborate CGI for a new movie. "Yes Rollie?" It sounded like he had something serious to say today.

'You need an assistant.'

The blonde blinked. "An assistant?"

'Yes.'

"I... I guess I have been doing a lot of work lately, haven't I?"

'Yes. It's time you hired an assistant... or an apprentice.'

"Pass on what I have learned?"

'Yes, young FX wizard.'

She heard the laugh in his voice. "Will you still be here if...?"

'As long as you want me. As long as you need me.'

"All right, Rollie." She saved her work and headed downstairs to the business computer. "Help me write it?"

Rollie laughed lightly. 'You.'

"Me. Now, what should I say?"

'Wanted: Young, handsome man seeking to learn special effects.'

"ROLLIE?!?"

'Australian preferred.'

"Oh you!" She picked up a paperback and threw it at Rollie, giggling as it passed harmlessly though him. "Okay. Wanted: Special effects assistant willing to work hard, long hours and wanting to learn. Call at Tyler FX, 555..."

'No.'

"What do you mean 'no'?" Angie looked startled. Rollie hadn't used that tone of voice with her since...

'Ramirez FX'

"Oh. We're going to have that argument, are we? I say Tyler."

'Ramirez'

Angie glared at the man. "You know, you aren't the boss anymore."

'I know, but it's time for you to have your own name.'

"Oh yeah, like they don't associate Ramirez FX with Dad."

'Tyler FX is better?'

"I... I like it better and it's already on the letterheads, the business cards, everything. It's what people know."

'Your own name, Angela. Angel FX?'

Angie laughed outright at that one. "How about Ghost FX?"

Rollie sighed in exasperation and threw his hands up.

Blue barked at his master and whined. Somehow, the little robot could always tell where Rollie was. Seeing him wagging his tail at Rollie, Angie was reminded of how odd she'd thought his behavior had been... Before she found out the brewery was haunted. She brightened as she had an idea. "Blue FX!" She looked at the little robot thoughtfully. "No, it needs something more. Blue Ghost FX."

'Angie!'

"My company! My name! You said it yourself. Besides what do you care, you're..." She flung her hand up to her mouth, horrified at what she almost said.

'Dead.' Rollie smiled gently at her. 'You can say it, Ange. I'm dead. And you're right, it is your company. As long as it's not Tyler FX anymore.'

"Blue Ghost FX it is, then." She turned around and changed the wording. "Do you think it's enough?"

'Says everything really.'

"Should I mention 'willing to work for and learn from a woman'?" She sighed, it was always a battle with the old school in the business. They were so positive a woman couldn't handle the work.

'No. Maybe "willing to work for and learn from the best."?'

"The best? I don't know about that. Show business is still such a... a boy's club!"

'I know. But you prove them wrong with every effect you create and every movie you do. If they don't notice how good you are, it's their loss, not yours. Enough obviously recognize your talent that you need help with the work. By the way, aren't you suppose to meet Sarah for lunch today?'

"What?" Angie glanced at the clock on the PC. "Damn, I'm late!" She raced out, grabbing her coat on the way out. "See you later, Rol!"

Rollie hummed the same tune Angie was earlier softly to himself as he faxed the ad to the local trade, 'There, you'll have some help soon, Ange.' He turned to Blue. 'Want to play a game, Bluey?'

The robot barked in acknowledgment and trundled up to his creator.

'I think it's time we learned some new tricks for Angie.' He disappeared and Blue floated over to the workbench.

She woke early and came downstairs to the smell of perfectly brewed coffee. There seemed to be several pluses to having her own ghost and this was one of them. She never had to set the timer on the coffee pot. As soon as she headed for the shower, Rollie started the coffee and sometimes breakfast if he considered it a special day or thought she wouldn't have time. Mostly he just did the coffee and left breakfast to her, knowing she wanted to choose for herself.

"Good morning, Rol." Angie poured a cup of coffee and headed for her workstation in the clean room.

'Good morning, Angie. Sleep well?'

"Yeah. Man, was I tired. You would think I'd be used to the suits by now."

'Well, it's not like I ever got used to them either.'

"Oh? You never showed it."

'What was the point? It had to be done and it was my job to do it.' He shrugged slightly. 'Do you need anything from me today?'

"Nah, I got it." Angie hesitated.

'Yes Angie?'

Oh well. "What do you do? When you're not here, I mean."

'Oh. I watch the sky from the roof. Sometimes, sometimes I go to the cemetery to visit Leo or Manny. Tell them what's going on. '

"Do you... Do you really talk to them or is it like...?"

'You mean face to face? No. They're not here. It's like when I visited them when I was still alive.'

"Oh. Um... Do you think that I should...?"

'No Angie. You shouldn't feel guilty that you don't go and talk. It's just my way, not yours.' He smiled gently and she felt her toes curl in the warmth of it. 'I guess old habits die hard. I honestly doubt they have to be told what's happening.'

"Rollie... Since you're a ghost and all, do you ever see...? Well, what I mean is... Do you know what happened to my Mom? I mean, is she dead or...?"

'Angie, I don't know more than I used to know. I don't know what's happening everywhere or whether someone is alive or... I'm sorry, but I don't know. I...'

Angie sighed. "It's okay, Rollie. I didn't think so, but I thought... What the hey, it didn't hurt to ask."

'I could check the internet and go through police records. I... I guess something like that wouldn't be in police records though.' He frowned thoughtfully.

"You can get into police records?" Angie looked startled.

'Well, I can go to Mid Town South. I... If it's a place I spent a lot of time at when I was alive, I find I can go there. The studios, if it's one we only went to once or twice, I can't seem to reach it. But if we did a lot of work there, I can. At least, that's what I've found so far. So I can go to Mid Town and read their records. ... If you like?'

"No, that's okay. I was just wondering. Rollie, do you spend a lot of time at Mid Town?"

'Since I died,  you mean? No, not really. I go there occasionally if Frank hasn't been around for a while. Just to... see him and make sure everything is okay.'

Frank? Not Mira? She wondered about that. "Does Frank know?"

'No, I haven't talked to Frank since I died. I didn't want to bother him. He has enough to deal with, what with his family and the crooks he's got to catch. He doesn't need a ghost bugging him too. Besides, Sarah thinks...' He trailed off.

"Sarah thinks what? Rollllie." Angie drew his name out in an exasperated, slightly threatening tone of voice.

It was Rollie's turn to hesitate. It wasn't his news or their business, not really. Still... 'Maybe this one will be a boy. She thinks she may be pregnant. I believe they get the test results today.'

"Pregnant?!? Sarah didn't say anything yesterday. Not a word."

'I expect they're waiting until they find out for sure.' Rollie faded out, then returned. 'Be sure to act surprised if they tell you about it,' he admonished before vanishing again.

"Act surprised? Act surprised! Rollie Tyler, you are the most exasperating... Men!" Angie shook her head, then laughed as she thought about it. Guess he's right. I better act surprised. I sure don't want to have to explain about him. She settled down to get some work done.

Four hours later, the phone's shrill shattered the quiet. Angie stretched, working the kinks out as she stood and went to answer the phone. Almost, she almost said it, the more familiar Tyler FX, but memory kicked in just before she could. "Blue Ghost FX, Ramirez speaking." Rollie would be pleased.

"Uh..." She heard the man on the other end swallow, obviously nervous. "I... I'm interested in the job. The, um, the special effects assistant position?"

Job? What? She hadn't sent the ad. Angie glanced over to the desk. Of course, Rollie. "Yes. Of course, Mister...?"

"Casey, Paul Casey. I... I have some experience with the business. Not much. I used to be a stunt man."

A stunt man, just like Rollie had been when they first met him. Except this one sounded older than he'd been at the time. "I see, Mister Casey. Could you come over for an interview?"

There was a moment of pregnant silence. "Sure. I could come. When?"

Angie glanced at the VCR's clock. "Three?"

"Three. Okay. Yeah, sure. I'll be there at three."

"The address is 256 Brewery Lane. Do you need directions?"

"N-n-no thank you. Three o'clock, 256 Brewery Lane," he recited carefully. "I'll be there. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mister Casey." Angie said in mild amusement to the buzz of the disconnected phone. "I just hope Rollie is back by then. I want his opinion too, before I hire somebody." Strange, the man had been so nervous. Perhaps, because of the occasional snobbery stunt men received from SPFX people? No, that couldn't be it. She'd invited him over for the interview. That should have told him that she wasn't about to hold his previous career against him. She wandered over to the small kitchen area. Oh well, she'd know more soon enough. Right now, it was time for lunch!

Rollie blinked a bit. 'Of course. You need help. I just faxed it over to the trade for publishing. It was your ad. I thought you would want it placed as soon as possible.'

"Well, I've got an interview in about a hour. A Paul Casey. He used to be a stuntman."

'I don't recognize the name. Used to be? Why did he quit?'

"We didn't get into that. I'll ask during the interview, if you like. You are going to be here for the interview... Aren't you?" She ended in a low growl.

'If you like,' Rollie responded in his mildest tone.

"I like."

Rollie watched a movie on the television - one of theirs, while Angie did some more work on the CGI. The closer it got to three, the more nervous she got. The ghost kept a covert eye on his partner. She jumped when he spoke. 'As jittery as you are, you would think you were interviewing for a job, not giving the interview.'

"I... It's just I've never interviewed anyone before, Rollie. I don't what to do, what to ask."

He turned around to face her. 'What do you think you should ask?'

"I don't know," she responded plaintively.

'How about previous jobs and references? He was a stunt man. He should know some names in the business.'

"Okay. What else?"

Rollie tilted his head to one side. 'Education.'

"Got you. But... Rollie, you don't, um, didn't have much education, but you had the talent."

'True, but Paul Casey isn't me. Not everyone self educates as well as I did. Besides, it's only one part of what you should look for. Why does he want to go into special effects? You need to find out if he has the... heart, the spirit for doing FX. It's not an easy career. He should already have an idea about the hours and the work and it doesn't seem to have scared him off. That's good. What's he like? Will his personality mesh with yours? That's important. You'll be working very closely together and have to be able to stand each other.'

"Okay, but we didn't exactly 'mesh well' all the time."

'Some conflict is to be expected, luv. Especially as close as we were to each other. You don't know Casey yet. You need to have... points of common interest. It would be nice if he had a knack for the mechanical. That's your weakest point, sweetie, and I can't always cover for you there. It would be a good complement for your talents.'

"Yeah, I know. You've been teaching me more, but I've got a long way to go. Besides, it would be nice to have someone else to work with me on the van." She gave an affectionate glance at the large vehicle. "It can be a beast if it's not tended properly."

'Have I missed something?' Rollie asked, suddenly anxious. The FX van had to be reliable. It was a visible sign for Angie's business. If it broke down, it wouldn't make a good advertisement.

"No! Oh no, Rollie. It's working fine. I was just thinking about if I was on location or something, when you're not around, that's all. I know I don't know how to take care of everything with her yet."

'All right.' Rollie disappeared, only to reappear in the lower kitchen area. 'How about a cuppa?'

Angie smiled, "Sounds good. Earl Grey?"

'Your wish is my command. Earl Grey it is.'

"Rollie... Do you miss eating and drinking? Do you miss your tea? You make an awful lot of it for me." She moved to sit down at the small kitchen table.

'I don't think so. Not really. I hadn't really considered it before. It just seems natural to make tea. Besides, I still love the smell of it. It's comforting.'

Angie smiled at that. Rollie could always identify a tea by the smell. It was something he just did. It seemed natural for him to still love the different smells. "Yes, it is." She accepted the cup that he placed before her, taking a sip, her eyes slitting with pleasure. This was something Rollie had taught her. Her parents were coffee drinkers, Rollie had introduced her to tea. She started at a knock at the doors.

'I guess your potential assistant is here.' Rollie glanced at the kitchen clock. 'Just a little bit, early. Not too bad. He's eager, but controlling himself.'

The blonde took a deep, nervous breath. "If you say so. How do I look?"

Rollie smiled at her, his amusement clear. 'Angie, relax. You are in control. You are the one making the decision. Now, answer the door, before he passes out or runs away.'

Angie muttered something uncomplimentary under her breath, but Rollie just laughed. She went to open the door, admitting Paul Casey into the workshop. She watched, relaxing as he stared at the clutter, stunned. Most people reacted that way to their first exposure to the SPFX workshop. She looked him over carefully, taking in the light brown hair in a  short buzz cut, the rugged face. He was a little too rough around the edges to be considered good looking, but it was an interesting face. He was also a bit older than Rollie would be if he was still alive. That could be a problem if his ego wouldn't let him take orders from a woman younger than he was. "Mister Casey? Please, come in." She stepped back and watched with shrewd eyes as he moved carefully inside. She wondered...

"Ms. Ramirez." He stood awkwardly just inside the doors. His voice was low and gravelly. He was also one hundred percent American. The man's eyes shifted around, trying to take in everything, fascinated but trying to hide his interest. That interest was a plus in Angie's mind though.

"Please, have a seat. Would you care for a cup of tea or coffee?" She had a feeling she knew the answer. He didn't look like he'd have the vaguest idea about what to do with tea, but coffee...

"Coffee, if it... it wouldn't be any trouble." The hazel eyes looked at her uncertainly. She wondered where the normal swagger of a stuntman was. Ninety nine percent of them had it. Why didn't he?

"Blue, coffee."

Blue barked affirmative and looked over at the pot, turning it on to start brewing the already prepared beans. He growled slightly at the stranger who was staring at him, bug-eyed.

"That's Blue. He's very useful. Quiet, Bluey. That's a good boy."

"B-b-boy? But it's a... He's a...?"

"Robot. Yes, but he definitely shows male tendencies."

Casey did a double take, wondering if she was serious. He'd never heard of Blue Ghost FX, but if this was the type of thing they produced. Wow! Wait a minute! Blue? He studied the little bug-like robot more closely. "You talk like he's alive and treat him like a dog?" Well, duh, he was barking, even if he did have six legs instead of four and no fur.

Rollie, unseen by the visitor, smothered a laugh, this was certainly entertaining. Angie rolled her eyes at her dead partner. Really, as if the man would be able to hear him anyway!

"Yes, he's programmed to act like a dog. Mind, he has been known to quack once in a while."

"Wait a mo! That's not fair. It wasn't Bluey's fault. He was shook up at the time.'

"Quack?" Oookay. A robot dog that sometimes quacked. He counted to ten... slowly. He could handle this. He had to handle this if he was going to work here. He gave himself a mental shake, he wasn't winning any points for intelligence so far. He wondered if this was what Alice felt like after falling down that hole to Wonderland.

Angie hid a smirk behind her hand, pretending to cough slightly. "Well, he was shook up at the time. Took quite a knocking around." She went and poured a cup of coffee in a mug and passed it to her potential employee. "So Mister Casey, why are you interested in this job? It certainly won't pay as much as stunt work." Not at first anyway. The potential was there to pay more, if he was good, but... She wasn't about to tell him that just yet.

The man nervously cleared his throat, visibly tensing. "I, uh, I've always been interested in the effects work. Uh..." He trailed off, painfully. Oh yeah, you're doing great here, buddy. So is an interest enough to explain changing careers at your age? He sighed and set the coffee down, untouched. Might as well tell the truth, it wasn't like she wouldn't - couldn't find it out. "I... To be honest, Ms. Ramirez. I was in an... accident." He grimaced. "I busted my leg up pretty good. The docs did a fine job putting it back together, but..."

'But it's not fully right. It will never be fully right. He was hiding a limp coming in, Ange. I wondered why he was so careful in moving. He can't be sure of his timing anymore. Not for stunts." Rollie was looking at the man, amusement gone, his expressive brown eyes full of sympathy.

Angie looked down at her cup of tea. Bad enough to interfere with FX work too? "How bad?"

"Bad enough I can't do stuntwork anymore." He looked at his hands and sighed. "I..."

"So FX work is second best?" Not a good attitude for a job that was full of long hours and thanklessly dirty, filthy work. Without the right attitude... He would never last. She needed someone she could rely on, someone who would be willing to take it. She couldn't let her sympathy get in the way of that simple fact.

"NO!" He looked up startled, finally meeting her eyes. "I... I really have had an interest in special effects. It's... It's fascinating. I just..." He trailed off and slowly stood up. "I'm sorry, Ms. Ramirez. I shouldn't be wasting your time."

"Mister Casey, if you walk out that door right now, you will have been wasting my time." She spoke firmly, a glint in her eyes that warned the man to stay put.

"I... It's just I only have a high school diploma. Not near enough education for FX work."

"Mister Casey... Paul? My... My partner never got past a high school diploma, actually it was equivalency awarded." She wrinkled her noise at Rollie who grinned back at her. "That didn't stop him from being the... the best in the business. It takes more than a degree to really make it in FX."

"Your... He... I... The best?" He managed to squeak out, startled by the declaration.

She stared at the stuttering man with a slight frown. "Have you ever heard of Rollie Tyler?"

"Of course! He was... He started out as a stuntman, but he became known as the best independent in Special Effects! He was... Didn't he died though... A... A year ago?"

"Actually, one year, seven months and three days ago." Rollie goggled at her accuracy. "He was my partner, my best friend... My family."

"Your... Your partner?"

"Yes. Dad, Manny Ramirez, taught me a lot about the business, but... Rollie, Rollie taught me everything he could, almost everything he knew. He learned so much more than Dad taught him. The one thing he couldn't do was pass on his genius, especially with mechanical effects. So.... Paul." She smiled wickedly. "How are you at mechanics?"

"Me--mechanics? I..." Paul took a deep breath and felt a spark of hope for the first time since his accident. "I used to own a Mustang. It was really old and ratty, but it purred like a kitten. I took really good care of her. I..."

"So you're pretty good working with tools? Building things?"

"Well, yeah."

"Can you design?"

"Design?"

"Yeah. Come up with something from scratch to handle something never done before?" She glanced at the Aussie, unnoticed by their guest. Rollie nodded and tilted his head toward his old workbench. No better way to find out, than to put him to the test. "Come over here."

The man hesitated, before moving to her side. The limp, no longer disguised, was barely noticeable. He scanned the tools scattered on the bench with a practiced eye and waited.

"Here. This waldo is giving me fits. Fix it." She placed it in his hands and went over to sit down, sipping her tea. She waited, watching intently, but not as intently as Rollie watched, observing every move the man made as he sat down and slowly set to work. He didn't really have to be able to design, not if he could implement what she designed. She hadn't, couldn't, mention that she was still learning from Rollie. She might not have his genius at mechanical design and innovation, but she did have a knack. How could she not? After all, she'd learned from the best - Manny Ramirez and Rollie Tyler. Her biggest frustration came in implementation. She just didn't possess their mechanical abilities.

About half an hour later, Rollie beamed at her and moved to her side. 'Not bad. He's needs some practice and I don't know about designing from scratch, but Paul certainly has an imagination and he can adapt to the materials at hand. If you like him, Angie, I think you should give him a try.'

"If he still wants the job," Angie responded in a soft undertone.

Rollie glanced at the man with knowing eyes, 'Oh, he will,' then disappeared, leaving Angie to wonder how he could be so certain.

A little while later, Casey looked up and turned toward her. "Well, I think that does it. How are you going to know for sure though?"

Angie grinned and walked over, accepting the waldo. "How about we give it a shot?" She glanced around at the assortment of props and hooked it up. With a delicate touch, that Paul Casey found fascinating, she began to manipulate the large dragon's head hanging to one side of the workshop. It turned to look at them, it's eyes piercing them. They lit up and it roared, sending a rush of smoke and flickers of light out of its mouth. The ex-stuntman felt like backing away, it seemed so incredibly real.

Satisfied, Angie returned the head to a quiescent position and carefully shut the waldo down. "Good work. It hasn't handled that well since Rollie's last overhaul." She took a deep breath, then turned to face the man. "If you're still interested, you've got the job."

"The job? I do? But..." The man brightened, then shut down. "Are you sure? I mean... Maybe you want to wait, see who else applies."

"No, Paul. I'm sure. That is if you still want it?"

"Me? Sure! This is... It's great. Thanks, Ms. Ramirez!"

"Angie. You don't even know what I'm paying yet."

"Doesn't matter, 'cause it can't be that bad. I just... I want to get back to work and I've... I've always been fascinated by FX."

"Sure you don't mind working for a woman, Paul? Especially when she's younger than you?"

"No, I don't mind." He shook his head emphatically. "My kid sister, she's a business executive. Really smart! With a MBA and everything. The jerks she works for though, they're always giving her a hard time. I know she can handle the job. They just... They use her talent and abilities, but they don't acknowledge her contributions. She... It's really getting her down too. It's not right or fair. I expect you're very good at your job too. You worked with Rollie Tyler for god's sake! Rollie Tyler! You can pay an assistant too! In this business, that means a lot. I'd love to work for you... Angie."

Angie grinned, "Then let's get the paperwork filled out."

"Yes ma'am!" He bobbed his head and followed her over to the desk to fill out the forms.

Abruptly, the happiness vanished. Rollie looked shocked for a moment, then disappeared. It scared Angie deeply. What had disturbed the Aussie so much? And where had he gone? She sent her assistant to pick up some items from an electronics supply store and called for the ghost. But there was no response. Where was Rollie? Why had he gone? Fretting, she tried to concentrate on the remote controlled unicorn they were building for their newest movie and not worry. After all, what could harm a ghost?

For a single instant, Rollie Tyler felt overwhelmed by the feelings of pain and fear. Determined, he followed the thread leading to the source. There, he found Francis Gatti, NYPD police detective and one of the best friends he had possessed while still alive. He stared in shock at the wounded man. Blood was pumping from a gaping hole in his side. Frank had been shot! A quick glance showed no one else in the littered alley. No! What could he do? Francis had to survive, to live! His family needed him, loved him. Rollie couldn't allow his friend to die, but... What could he do? He was dead. No one would see him if he ran out to the more crowded avenues and tried to flag down help. He didn't have a cell phone to call 911 and if he did, would they even hear him? What could he do?!? He thought about returning to Angie and asking her to place the call, but first he needed to know where Frank was. He headed for the open end of the alley, but a soft moan from the short Italian American drew his attention back to his friend. NO! The ghost threw himself to his knees beside the downed man. With a fierce look of concentration, he pressed his hands against the heavily bleeding injury, slowing the flow of blood. He considered his dilemma. If he left Frank to seek help, the living man would bleed to death. If he stayed here, slowing the flow of blood, he could still die - from shock, from the internal injuries. 'Damned if I do, damned if I don't! What do I do, Frank? Where's your backup, mate? We could really use some help right now.'

It seemed like a miracle to the desperate ghost, when Frank's eyes fluttered open. With an almost silent moan, his head rolled to one side as Francis sought the source of the fire burning his side and the excruciating pressure that seemed to be pressing down on his lungs, preventing him from breathing. "Rol..lie? ... I... I guess... th-this is it, if I'm see...ing you. Mi--m--missed you.. pal, but... Oooh. Why does it... hurt so... much?" The words were gasping whispers, almost as silent as the soft breeze that flowed through the alley way. His eyes closed as fresh waves of pain broke over him. "I di--didn't know be...ing dead could... hurt... so--so much. Or ... maybe... this is he--hell? Was I s--so b--bad I was... sent to... hell? Then wh--why are you...?"

'Frank? You see me? No! No Frank! You're not dead! Not yet and we've got to keep you that way! Sarah and the girls still need you Francis! Fight it! Fight it! Where's your phone?' Rollie fumbled into the detective's coat, pulling it out. 'I'm dialing 911, Francis! But you're going to have to talk them. I can't do that for you. Damn you, Frank! Talk! Tell them where you are! You need an ambulance, NOW!' The dead man screamed at the living, forcing his wandering attention to return to the present.

With a moan, Francis Gatti focused blearily on the cell phone his dead friend pressed against his ear. He licked his lips, then his eyes fluttered close.

'NO!!!' Rollie roared. 'Remember Sarah, Francis! Remember your girls! They need you! Fight! Fight! You can do it, Frankie! Please! Please! Don't let go! Remember the new baby? You can't die without seeing him! I bet this one's a boy, Francis! Don't you want to see your baby boy?'

"B--b--boy?" Gatti drew in a shaky breath, pushing away the blackness that was trying to pull him under. "Off--off--i--cer dow...dow...ngggh. 5th and ... ungh..." He moaned again, blacking out from the overwhelming pain.

Rollie looked on in despair. Until he heard the frantic words coming from the phone. They'd heard! They were tracing the call! All he had to do was control the bleeding and get Frank to hold on! All?!? Dear God in heaven! 'Please! Please,' he whispered. 'Let Frank live! He's still needed. I... Please! Please!' Rollie closed his eyes and focused, reaching out into the Dreaming and the Dreamtime, desperately, recklessly pushing energy and his own strength into the shattered body under his hands. Please! Please! Please... He had no idea what the loss would do to him and he didn't care! He didn't care as long as Francis Gatti lived!

Angie Ramirez gasped as a transparent Rollie appeared in front of her. He always appeared solid and there, as if he was still alive. His touches were soft and light, but he always looked real. Now, he looked like a ghost! "Rollie? What's wrong? What's happened?"

Rollie's eyes burned into hers. 'Frank! He's been shot. Angie, you have to go to him. Sarah will need you.'

"Frank? He's," she swallowed the lump in her throat. "He's not dead... Is he?"

The ghost shook his head. 'No. I... At least, I don't think so. They took him to the hospital. Oh bloody hell! I don't know which one!'

Angie responded to the misery in Rollie's eyes, even as worry built in her heart. "That's okay, Rollie. I'll call Mira. She'll know where he is."

His face lit at the solution. 'Yes! Hurry. Sarah will need you. I'd offer to babysit, but I doubt any of them would be able to hear me, anyway. Go! Hurry!' He watched with anxious eyes as Angie called Mira Sanchez.

Fortunately, for Angie's peace of mind, she didn't have to say anything about Francis. The instant Mira knew it was her, she told her what happened. "Frank? Shot? Oh no! Mira, is he okay? -- What? -- Where is he? -- I'll come right away. -- No, it's okay. I'll be there soon." She hung up and grabbed her small handbag. "Rollie, I'll let you know what's happening as soon as I get back." She dashed for the door.

'What about Paul?' He called after her. 'You need to leave a note!'

"What? Oh damn!" Muttering imprecations, she hastily scrawled a note on a post-it and tossed the pad toward the ghost.

Rollie caught it as she raced outside and jumped into the sports car. With a tired sigh, he peeled it off and stuck it to the monitor on his, no, Paul's workbench where he would be sure to see it. That small chore seemed to drain most of his remaining energy. He flickered out. Upstairs, unseen hands activated the VR chamber, pulling up the Uluru program. Invisible, he settled into the comfortable chair and waited for the images to work their magic, even as he worried about his friends. Bloody hell! He was dead! These worries and the pain associated with them were for the living, not the dead. The ghost picked up the prayers he started in the alley, pleading for Frank's life and recovery. He wasn't ready for another friend to come over. No, not yet, not for a good long time. Frank had his kids to watch grow. And if Rollie was right, a son to see born, to hold in his arms, to... Teach all the things a father should teach a son. All the things Dingo had failed to teach him. Rollie didn't want Frank's son to grow up without a Dad. He was too familiar with that particular lonely ache.