A/N: Another Michael and Selene moment, which I hope you will enjoy. I intended this to be humourous, but this somehow came out. Any comments and constructive criticism are appreciated. This is set after both movies, and details about the clan and the location is deliberately vague.

Disclaimer: The characters in this work of fanfiction belong to Len Wiseman and the Underworld franchise. No profit is being made off this.

The Undertaker

"No," he protested.

"Yes," she responded, rifling though the racks, holding up another shirt for inspection. She checked the price tag, noted the "25 percent off" sign above the rack, and added the shirt to the growing pile draped over her arm. Michael tried again.

"Selene, it's black. They're all black," he said.

"So what?" she said indifferently.

"It's…it's like I'm an undertaker," Michael said finally. She only looked at him pointedly and moved towards the cashier's counter. His arms, laden with grocery bags, sagged a little more. He was so tired, and right now he felt ignored and worthless. He eyed the price on the computer screen and winced; maybe he should start taking off his shirt before he transformed. He gazed hard at the pile of clothes on the counter and tried to imagine them in a brilliant array of colours, but they all stayed a grave, grim, sombre black.

He loved bright colours, blue and red and green and yellow and purple and orange, colours of every shade to brighten up his life. He loved the subtle shades of grey and ash and faint gold and amber, and most of all lovely hazels and browns. But all his shirts would be black, dark as the night he lived in, black upon black upon black. He understood the black was necessary, faithfully shielding him in the shadows, protecting him from enemy eyes. But sometimes he wanted to stand in the sun and yell, "I'm here, in the light, out from the underground. Won't anyone come with me? Why do we need to hide anymore?"

But again there was no time and no place for that, no time for foolish dreams that belonged in his dark. He had responsibilities and he had work to do and there was no escaping from his burden...

"Come on," he heard her say briskly, and he shook himself, moving mechanically towards the exit. He shrugged off his gloomy thoughts. Selene drove back in silence, but just as she was about to turn off the freeway she seemed to hesitate. Instead she ignored the exit and drove on. Michael glanced at her, surprised. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, the colourful shadows of the sunset drawing a soft mask over her face.

"I need to show you a place," she said after a moment, and he saw that she had a small smile on her face. So they drove on, Selene pressing the gas pedal farther and farther down while the odometer crept higher and higher, the sun sinking faster and faster below the trees. Michael didn't question her; he had grown use to what she needed, and the way she went about to get what she needed.

"I'll call back to let them know," he only said, and dialled on his cell. "Though we won't be too long, would we? The food might go bad and I'm getting hungry," he added half-jokingly. Speeding along the freeway with the wind in his face had begun to give him a marvellous sense of freedom.

"We'll be as long as we need," she said.

She turned at Exit 54 and the car hummed smoothly along until she pulled over to the side of the road. The darkening forest surrounded them as he got out and followed her off the road and onto a trail hidden by overgrown bushes and fallen logs. She began a punishing pace, leaping over tree roots that Michael could hardly see in the half-dark, pushing aside branches that had grown out to reach at their faces. He had a faint idea where she was going; he could hear the gentle lap of water against the shore and cry of birds wheeling high above them. Finally she stopped, and beckoned him to her side. He pushed away a tangle of weeds, ducked under an arching branch over his head, and found himself in a different world.

Finally he understood Selene's hurry. She had been chasing the sun.

The fierce hues of the sinking sun bathed his face as he looked around him in wonder. They stood on a rocky point that jutted out from the shore like a small lookout made purposely for them, a quiet sanctuary in a bustling city. Selene was smiling softly, the permanent frown on her face erased momentarily. He stared out over the water, the endless sea that stretched out until it met the dimming sun, reflecting the sun's dying rays to colour the streaking clouds high above them a rosy pink and orange and gold. He was reflected in the glow, in the beautiful cunning shades that only nature could paint, and he stood and watched in silence until the last bit of sun slipped down out of sight.

"Michael."

He took a deep breath and smelled the salty tang of the sea. Her brown eyes met his understandingly as he faced her. He was surprised to find himself almost crying.

"Remember when you made that promise?" she asked. "When you promised the clan—our clan—the future? You accepted the responsibility that no one else wanted, you did what no one else ever dared to attempt."

He nodded.

"Remember the promise you made me, the promise I made you?"

"Yes," he croaked, and drew a hasty arm over his eyes.

"Michael," she drew his arm away and made him face her. "You know what still needs to be done. We can't stop now. We're almost there. We're almost there."

"Yes," he said again, and felt the burdens settle on his shoulders again. The world was dark now, the colours faded to darkness. But he no longer felt so tired. He closed his eyes and fixed the memory of the colours in his mind, to be stored away for the future.

As they started back along the trail, he took her hand and they walked slowly and carefully through the dark forest. When they reached the car the stars were out and the night was already cold. Selene noticed his shiver and went to the trunk, returning with a black sweater with the tag still attached. He accepted it and pulled the sweater over his head.

"Undertaker," Selene said, and Michael could hear the teasing note in her voice.

So he was. He accepted his role. He squared his shoulders and, with her, prepared to face their tasks once more.