The Big Dig- Part 1

As Finn rounded the bend of the running path alongside the Charles, and the Harvard Boathouse came into view, he pushed his pace, sprinting the last hundred yards, legs pumping hard, feeling the exquisite burn of well used muscles.  He loved to run, loved the way all the random images and ideas ping ponging around his brain would slow down to where he could pick an individual thought out to explore.  Loved the blood rushing throughout his body, letting him know he was alive.  And he especially loved the calm contentment that came after a hard run.  When he reached the boathouse, he allowed himself to slow to a recovery jog, relaxing, the thoughts rolling over his brain in waves.  It just wasn't possible that Jon had been a heroin addict.  It didn't matter what the cops or the coronor said.  It wasn't that Jon was too straight edge for drugs, Finn had smoked enough pot with him to know better, but if Jon had been one thing it was vain.  Not a chance that he would risk messing up his teeth, getting skinny or leaving needle marks in his perfect skin.  Every chance Jon got he was staring at himself in a mirror, so it just didn't make sense that he would have died from a H overdose with the needle still in his arm.  Finn could just picture Jon's abject mortification at the thought of being found in such an unflattering position.

Of course people sometimes changed, and it had been five long years since Jon had been a part of his life.  Five long years since he had been one of the most important people in Finn's life.  But, Jon with his blinding blonde good looks, devastating charisma, and charmingly callous disregard for the needs of others had been his closest friend, and the person Finn had known the best so could he have really changed so much?  Stopping to stretch his tight quads, Finn thought it couldn't hurt to ask around.  He could track down where Jon had been hanging recently, talk to some people and try to make sense of the grotesque image haunting him, that of a lifeless, crumpled body, needle hanging from his arm, wearing Jon's face.

Finn jogged slowly through the back streets of Harvard Square, down narrow streets narrowed further from cars parked on either side further, crossed over Western Ave through a once poorer neighborhood now experiencing the effects of gentrification and came into Morris Square.  It was really more of a pentagon than a square with the five main roads coming in together where the T station, Joe's Pizza and Finnegan's Irish Pub stood.  He passed the closed door of the bar, it was still early enough that his mother wouldn't be in to open up for another hour or so, and circled around to the alley behind which held the stairs to ascend to his apartment above.  He climbed the stairs stripping off his sweaty T-shirt as he did wondering who to begin with to get some answers to his growing questions about Jon.  By the time he entered his apartment with its sparse furnishings and minimalist decor, toed off his sneakers and headed for a much needed shower, he had come to the reluctant conclusion that there was only one person to start with.  One person he'd been careful not to think off for a long time now.  He had to start with Kristen.

*************************************************************************************************
Kristen didn't bother to hide the annoyance on her face as she sorted through the jumbled mass of cords at the base of the CPU.  None of the cubicle monkeys would be able to see it since she had to climb under Patterson's desk, her butt stuck out in order to reattach all the wires properly.
"Now next time what do you do when you want to try and "fix" your computer, Patterson?"  she demanded from underneath the desk, knowing that she'd probably be back here next week.
"I know, I should call the Help Desk.  I would of this time, but it seemed like something simple..."
Patterson's voice trailed off and she just knew he was starting at her ass.  Again.  It was becoming clearer and clearer that all his computer "problems" were all self inflicted.  She just didn't have the energy for this.  Wiggling out from under the desk, she brushed off the knees of her khakis and schooled her face into a patient expression.
"You're all set."  She sidestepped his thanks with a polite smile and set off for her office in the IT department, ignoring the various smirking cubicle occupants who had probably been staring at her ass too.  Without turning around, she just knew Patterson was watching her with his puppy dog eyes.  She had to nip this one in the bud, it was hard enough being the only female IT professional at a mostly male financial services company, but to have everyone speculating on whether Patterson was going to able to score with her was mortifying.

By the time she was safely ensconced back at her desk in the relative privacy of her office her mood had improved.  When she checked her email, a message had arrived from Lauren, entitled "I need a drink", wanting to meet up after work.  When her phone rang, she assumed it was probably Lauren firming up plans. 
She answered it, a smile in her voice, "Kristen Rayner."
"I need to talk to you. Can you meet me tonight?"  a dark, familiar voice asked.  Only one person would forget to identify himself and just jump into a conversation as if it already existed.
"Finn."  She tried to keep her voice level and was pretty sure she was successful.  It wouldn't do to let him know what kind of power he still held, he was a smug enough bastard as it was.
At Jon's funeral, just two short weeks ago, he'd stood in the back in a dark suit that looked like he borrowed it from someone else, just a bit baggy on his lean frame.  His hair was different, where once a mass of dark waves had hung down in his face, now it was clipped close to his head making his blue eyes even more prominent in that long face.  At the end, when he came through the receiving line to pay his respects to her and her mother, the only ones in the family left, she'd wanted to grab a hold of him, bury her face in his chest and never let go.  Instead she thanked him for coming, shook his hand, and didn't let herself watch him walk away.
"What do you want to know, Finn?"  She couldn't see him, safer just to do this over the phone.
"It would be better in person.  Meet me tonight at Finnegan's.  When do you get off work?"
"Five,  but I don't think it's a good idea..."
"I do, " he cut her off.  "I'll be looking for you around 5:30, Buddha."  The dial tone buzzed in her ear.  Typical Finn, no goodbye. And still calling her by the stupid nickname.
Some people never change.