Axellia's Note: Well, you've either noticed my lack of updating, or you've forgotten who I am. After all the crap that came with the 'Yellow' ones, I decided that a break was in order. Sadly, the break turned into a lack of interest in writing, followed by a bout of Writer's Block. Inspiration has come back to me in sorts (a Smallville fic), but WTECS, has suffered. So, in an attempt to drive up some urge to write and return to by baby, I figured ye ol' faithful music player shuffle challenge might work.
What is, what was, and what will never be - I'll let you know if there are potential spoilers (for WTECS, not the show - I don't think there are any for the show at all!)
Once upon a time
Somewhere far away from here
I was drowning in a deep sleep
Got no ground beneath my feet
And there's so many faces
I'm New York and I'm Japan
There's so many things that I want to know
But I'll never understand...
Now I'm dreaming in red
Just drifting away
I'm dreaming in red
Come and take me away
Dreaming in Red, The Calling
Flack watched the woman work with a small frown on his face. In the past two weeks he was certain that Taylor had spent more time in the crime lab than a lot of the actual lab techs had. Still determined that someone was going to believe her about the ghosts she could apparently see, she had camped out in front of one of the computer terminals, trying to make some 'clue' the latest 'ghost' was showing her.
Personally, Flack thought she was insane. Ghosts for crying out loud? He couldn't care less if her social life consisted of a dark room surrounded by a half dozen computers. The thing that bothered him was that she was taking over his social life. And his private life.
It was bad enough that she demanded his attention (and if he was in a slightly more forgiving mood, he would have laid the blame at Mac, as it was he who called upon the detective, or even himself, for being the detective who worked the closest with the CSIs – out of his own choice) when he was at work. It was worse when she caught him as he was about to go home, or when he was trying to make headway on another case.
But the damn woman was plaguing his thoughts and dreams at home. Sure, she was hot. But the thing was when she opened her mouth and said something even loosely related to information coming from ghosts, the insane card won out.
And then there was the red.
Up until a month ago, red had just been another color, usually associated with the blood of victims. Now, whenever he saw her in his head, she was wearing red. Half the time he wanted to rip it off her, just to get a rid of the color block. Other times, he wanted to be ripping the fabric off her and doing other things to her.
Even now, in reality, she was wearing a scarlet blouse. And it was driving him as crazy as she did.