Promo piece I wrote for a fanfic of Scratch O'Brien's- which we never finished. XD Still, I'm rather fond of this little scene, so here we go.

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There was a stick.

She nudged it with her foot. It rolled a few inches with a dull rattling noise, and then stopped.

She eyed it suspiciously.

The lack of response she received in return was rather disappointing, to be honest.

It's a stick, she thought.

Oh.

Some how, I expected something a bit more exciting.

She gazed around her with detached interest. The entire setup, in fact, was less exciting than what she had expected. A sort of cloudy whiteness above her, black flagstones beneath her… They weren't made of any stone she could recognize, though. They had a glassy, reflective quality that caught her attention, but- it wasn't as if she was really here here, anyway, so what did it matter whether the floor was interesting or not?

Why am I even thinking about the floor?

"Because you're dreaming," said a voice. The voice. The only voice that mattered.

She willed herself not to turn around. There's a smirk on his face, she thought. There always is, and I can hear it in his voice. It always sounds different when he smirks. He can turn a perfectly innocent comment into a sneer.

What talent.

"So, am I therefore to assume that you to are just a figment of my imagination?" she asked, back still to him. "Because, you know, you just read my thoughts. And I don't think even you ever had that ability, even when you were still… you."

He was snickering. She heard him.

"You're always so prone to introspection," he said, matter of factly, "It's so adorable, Justice."

She allowed herself the tiniest of smiles. "Well, you'd know everything about that, now, wouldn't you?" she said, quietly, "…Envy."

Then she turned around.

Yes, Envy was standing there. Still looking the same as ever, still wearing that thick black headband and that goddam black battle skirt, still with that trademark smirk stretching over his face, and still standing too close for comfort.

A perfect image, sculpted by a master artist with a sick sense of humor.

He looked exactly like she remembered him.

The grin widened.

…his teeth were just as unnaturally pointed as ever.

"Like what you see?" Envy asked, shifting his position as he admired the form he had constructed himself, "Pity I can't alter it anymore. You never saw me inhabit any other body for an extended period of time. To you," he lifted his chin carelessly, "this is who I will always be."

Justice sat down on that fascinating stone floor and, with the casualness of the dreaming, patted the spot of floor next to her. An invitation to sit down. The sort of thing she could only do in her mind. He'd get the wrong idea, otherwise.

…not that he'd be able to get any ideas anymore.

"Don't be so certain," he said, plopping down on the floor next to her. "This is me talking here, not some sappy little conjuration of yours." He leaned back on his hands and gave his surroundings the once over. "So this is the inside of your head, is it?" He laughed. "Damn. They really aren't kidding when they say that Justice sees only in black and white. You should really get an interior decorator in here, or something."

Justice peered at him indifferently.

"Do you have any idea how surreal this is?" she asked him. "You, coming in here and lecturing me about interior decorating."

"Don't really care." he said, resting his chin on his hand. "These days I'm lucky to get a word in edgewise, what with What's-His-Face Darling-Dear volunteering to feed homeless and donate clothes to orphans and all that rubbish." Envy made a face. "Orphans. Me. How degrading."

She chuckled. "So basically you're trying to say that you're bored?"

Envy glared at her. "Of course I'm bored! I haven't killed anyone for months!"

"If it's killing you want, I think there are a few politicians the next country over that could do with a lesson…"

He waved his hand. "Vigilantism. Spare me. Although I might be quite tempted to kill Kindness soon, if he doesn't stop preaching to me about helping the needy and sick. Puh-leeze." He gave her a sudden look. "You just suggested that I kill someone. That doesn't sound like you."

"I've been… thinking about things," muttered Justice, pulling her knees up to her chest and sitting with her arms wrapped around them.

"Do tell."

"I've decided that you can't just see the world in black and white," said Justice. "Some things- though bad- can be justified. There is always a motive for every action. There is always a context." She turned to look at him. "You just have to see it."

Envy was quiet for a minute. The white mist up high above them swirled lazily on hidden drafts of air.

"That doesn't sound like the old you," he said, finally.

"Yeah, well. Things have changed."

"Do I detect a hint of sadness?"

"In your dreams."

"Which we're in right now."

There was a long, tense silence.

"What?" asked Justice.

"Dreams. We're in one." His smile, which had disappeared for a moment, resurfaced. "Not to be intrusive, or anything, but I can't help but notice. You're dreaming about me."

Justice flushed, and looked away. "You said earlier that it was really you talking. So which is it? My dream, or you?"

Smirk. "Oh, it's me, all right." Envy said. "But I wouldn't have been able to make it in if the opening weren't already there." He flicked a piece of hair out of his face. "And let me tell you, the limitations here are annoying. I can only look the way you remember me."

"Why not just shape shift? I've seen you do it before."

"You don't have enough imagination," he said. "You may note that we are sitting in the middle of an empty floor."

"I'm Justice," she said, "I don't need an imagination."

"You were just talking about how things have changed," he said, eyes suddenly turned to hers. She flinched at the sudden splash of color in her landscape of monochrome.

"That's… different. That's rationalizing. Facts. You don't need imagination for rationalizing."

He laughed. And he's laughing at me, Justice thought. Sin personified is laughing at me, and I'm blushing.

And he knows it.

"You're an idiot, Justice,"

"Says the king of fools,"

He laughed again, and stood.

"You should watch who you call a fool, Justice," he said easily. "Particularly seeing as you're the one who dreamed about me in the first place." He started walking away, through the mist that swirled around them, until only his footsteps could be heard, padding away, further and further. "See you around."

"I'll dream about whom I want!" she called after him, half torn between fury and amusement.

The last thing she heard before she drifted away from that endless floor and that white light was his laughter. It filled every corner of her head, and came back, echoing into every recess of her mind and bouncing off her thoughts.

See you around.

In your dreams.