Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock. I am not making profit from this story so no one sue me, please. Any characters whom are not from Static Shock are rightfully owned by me.

Summary: Virgil and Richie haven't been friends for nearly 20 years. They have gone their separate ways and lived their successful lives through work. However, how have their personal lives suffered since their failed friendship?

Just to be on the safe side, this story is rated T.

Twenty Years

A Static Shock Fan-Fiction

A light tapping at Richard Foley's office door broke the blond of the trance he had not even known he was in. Clearing his throat, he sat up in a more professional position than the slouch he had fallen into, and fixed his tie. When he decided that he was orderly, he gave a welcoming "The door is open" to the visitor at his door.

The doorknob turned and the door pushed in toward the room. In the doorway stood a tall, thin, pale woman wearing a knee-length, strappy sundress colored in a lovely lilac. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail with pieces of hair still covering her forehead and face. Her smile was bright from white teeth and a shimmery pink lip gloss. In her arms, she protectively held a thick textbook to her chest as if she wanted nothing less than to drop it. "Hi, Professor Foley," she said, greeting her instructor warmly. "May I come in?"

Richie gave the woman in his doorway an once-over before giving her a friendly smile. "Hello, Charlotte," he said, standing up from his desk as he waved his student into the room. He had a real knack for remembering student's names, especially the ones that came by his office regularly. Once they were both seated, Richie folded his arms on his desk and said, "What can I help you with, Charlotte?"

"Actually," she said, laying the text book on his desk. She crossed her legs and politely tugged the skirt of her dress down a little. "I was rather hoping I could help you with something." She nodded toward the textbook and gently said, "Take it. It's for you."

With a raised eyebrow that gave off Richie's obvious confusion, the blond reached out across his desk and wrapped his hand around the spine of the book, pulling it toward him. It was not every day that a student gave their professor a gift, and the gracious act had certainly caught Richie off guard. However, once Richie caught sight of the title of said book, any confusion he may have felt immediately dissipated and was promptly replaced with shock and awe, and he even gasped a little bit.

"Now, please don't think that I'm trying to bribe you into giving me an A, because I am most certainly not," Charlotte explained lightheartedly with a soft laugh. "My father gave it to me. I recognized it as the book you were talking about in class a couple weeks ago, and I thought you might like to have it," she explained. She went on to tell Richie about how her great-grandfather had been a physicist many moons ago and that the book had been passed down to her grandfather, then to her dad, and now her dad had given it to her.

Richie looked up past the rim of his glasses that had fallen down the bridge of his nose. The confusion had plastered itself back on his face. As he pushed his glasses back up, he began to speak. "Oh, Charlotte, why are you giving it to me? You should keep it if it's been in your family so long," he insisted, and pushed the book back toward his student.

Charlotte sat up a little straighter, waving her hands in protest. "Oh, no, Professor Foley, I don't need it. That book is so outdated for what I am going to be doing with a Physics degree. I don't plan to do research like my father and grandfather, but that's what you do, so you should have it. You'll more use out of it."

Richie's features softened and a warm smile flitted across his lips. Biting his lower lip, the blond pulled the back toward him. Gathering it in his arms, he picked himself up from his seat and walked over to his bookshelf. Finding an empty spot on the top shelf, he placed the book so that the front cover was facing toward the room. Taking a few steps back, a bigger smile graced his features and he turned back toward Charlotte. "Thank you so much, Charlotte. I really do appreciate this gift." He would have hugged her had she not been his student and had the door not been closed.

"You're very welcome, Professor Foley," Charlotte said warmly and picked herself up off her seat as well. She walked up to Richie with only about a foot or so left between them. She placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Merry Christmas, Professor Foley. I'm glad you decided to come to this university," she said and walked from the room.

Once Charlotte was gone, Richie walked back around his desk and sat down. Glancing up at his bookshelf, he smiled to himself. He supposed these were the times when teaching really did pay off, no matter how stressful the job could be.

Leaning back into his seat, he felt his stomach growling and frowned. He realized just how long it had been since he ate. There was of course nothing to eat in his office, and he would not be getting off work for another five hours. Why do I never pack myself an extra lunch on these days? Richie thought to himself and clicked his tongue.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he went back to the trance he had been before Charlotte came in. He didn't have to be to his next class for another hour yet, and he had nothing else to do until then.

He thought, for just a moment, before someone else came knocking at his door, that it seemed like a sad life when the happiest part of it was students who listened to anything he said. He wondered if any of his students realized he was not happy. Not exactly with the teaching, but in general.

Inhaling deeply, Virgil let out the breath as a groan and hoisted himself up from the insanely uncomfortable desk chair he had been sitting in for more than five hours. Clients and coworkers had been in and out of his office all day long and it was about time that he got a moment to himself just to relax.

Leaning over, he pressed a big red button his desk phone and said into the speaker, "Elaine?"

After a moment, a modulated female voice crackled in over the speaker. "Yes, Mr. Hawkins?"

"Do you I have any more appointments this evening?" The time was nearing 4:30 and Virgil was more than ready to go home and relax.

There was a long pause between the two before Elaine crackled back in. "It appears that you have one more—a Mr. Laurence. He should be here any minute, then you can head home, Mr. Hawkins."

Virgil sighed and shut his eyes momentarily. Elaine was rather optimistic; that was something Virgil had learned over the last sixteen years of her working for him (she began working for him when he first got the job). She knew as well as Virgil that Mr. Laurence was a rightful pain in the ass, and that there was no chance he was getting out of the office until at 6:00 PM at the earliest. Sitting back down at his desk, Virgil pressed the button again. "Thanks, Elaine."

"You're welcome, Mr. Hawkins." This time, her voice was filled with sympathy. She knew that Virgil was tired; he was always tired.

With a sigh, Virgil scratched his head. He still wore the same dreads that he had when he was fifteen years old, but at this point, they had grown out at least five or six inches, to the point Virgil pulled them back into a ponytail. Sure, it was a little bit unprofessional looking, but no one complained about it and he rather liked it. It was the one thing in his life he liked and he kept it.

Glancing over his desk, he caught sight of the pictures he saw every day. The first picture was of him and his family when he was little, so his mom was also in the picture. He kept it for obvious reasons. In the next picture were his father and Sharon the day that Sharon got married to Adam. Virgil would never admit to having the picture, and he certainly would never admit to actually finding her picture beautiful. In the third picture was a very beautiful, African-American woman holding a gorgeous little girl with black dreads that were dolled up with colorful beads. She was no older than two in the picture. Their names were Angelica and Chloé', respectively. Until five years ago, Angelica had been his wife and Chloé was his daughter.

Now eight years old, Virgil got partial custody of his daughter, meaning that he got to see her during Christmas and every other Thanksgiving. Angelica would rather have had full custody, but Virgil had made a pretty good case to the courts as to why he should still get to see his daughter, so they had granted him that. While Angelica had been pissed, Chloé was filled with pure ecstasy about it.

Then there was a fourth picture. This one was of him and Richie right after their college graduation. They looked so happy, and it saddened Virgil because no one would have honestly ever guessed that just two short months later…

There was a loud pounding at the door, and Virgil immediately felt a headache coming on. It was Mr. Laurence, he knew, because no one else pounded at his door like that. "Come in, Mr. Laurence," Virgil groaned, knowing at this point that the man barging through his door never paid much attention to his emotions, anyway. Going through the motions, Virgil listened to the man on the other side of his desk growl about this thing and that thing that Virgil could or should be doing.

All Virgil wanted was to leave for the week, pick up his daughter, and spend another Christmas with Chloé. At least he would have a week where he wouldn't be lonely for once.

A/N: Ha. This was originally supposed to be a one-shot about Virgil and Richie's (romantic) relationship as adults but, as luck would have it, Virgil and Richie refused to cooperate with me (*whispers* I think they've been fighting...) and this is what I ended up with. I hope you liked it. There will be more. Please review!