Disclaimer: I don't own Dead Like Me or rainbow suspenders.

A/N: This is dedicated to all those who are waiting for part 2 of 8 Sunday mornings a week. Please be patient.

London, 1987

The smell of the pub really put him off.

It was like a mix of urine and cake. Where was he getting the smell of cake from?

Glancing down at his beer he couldn't help but think about the last few years and how many times he had been forced to come in here and take the souls of drunken idiots getting into fatal bar fights.

Why would she be here?

The streets outside the dank pub were usually strewn with junkies and drunkards. Not that he was in any position to judge.

But still, she was just a kid.

Raising his head from the stain covered bar he looked around the small, dirty public house and took in the sight of it's only other customer, a rather sleepy and drunk old man sporting a beard that resembled grey candy floss and clothes that may have been the reason for the urine smell.

Letting out a breath he looked back at the counter and his beer and continued to wait.

Then she came out.

His eyes shot up at the sound of the backroom door opening and when he saw her he was lost for words.

Years of coming in and reaping the souls of the drunk and the pestilent, he had of course seen her working behind the bar. The electric blue eyes and dishwater blonde hair were kind of hard to miss. The perfect complexion was only made more beautiful by the imperfection of having several freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose. A nicely rounded face lit up at the sight of him and a small smile appeared on her pink lipstick less lips.

She was so beautiful.

For a second he thought she might have known something but she followed the smile with a very professional, "You almost done then?"

Blinking, he said quietly, "Yeah. Just about."

"Good. Sorry but I gotta kick you out in a sec so…"

"Right." His head sagged down to the counter once more as the young girl nodded and began gathering trash bags to bring outside.

She was just a kid.

"Mr. Craig?" She called over to the old man. "Time to leave. You can come back tomorrow."

A grunt could be heard from the lump that was the old man.

"Hey, time to bugger off. Come on, you're not staying." She said threateningly.

The old man didn't move.

"I'll deal with him later." She said to mostly herself. She turned to back to him and said,

"Now you need to go. Sorry."

He looked at his watch and sighed.

"Yeah, I do."

As he grabbed his dirty jacket from the stool next to him he saw that she was struggling with the trash bags.

"You need help with the…" He nodded to the black bags.

She looked up at him suspiciously for a moment and then smiled.

"Sure." She said, handing him a bag. "I'm Candy."

He took the other two bags from her then empty hands and said simply, "Mason."

Outside, Candy held the dumpster lid open as Mason dumped the trash bags into it. All during this she couldn't stop staring at him. He kept his own eyes placed firmly ahead of him. When the chore was finally done she dropped the lid and asked,

"Hey, do I know you?"

Mason avoided her eyes and pretended to fix his jacket.

"Well I'm in there a lot." He said quietly and nodded to the pub behind them.

It was raining and Candy sheltered them both under a red umbrella as they headed back to the back entrance.

"Must be." She said with no conviction in her voice. "Are you sure though?"

He wet his top lip and nodded.

"I know we've never met before."

Candy rolled her eyes and laughed slightly.

"You're not gonna say something like 'I think I would remember meeting a girl like you before' are you?"

"No." He smiled. "But we just haven't."

They walked in silence for a moment. Then Candy began humming, quite loudly, the tune of Bicycle Race. Mason paused and began to laugh.

"You like Queen?" He asked in almost disgust.

"Well yeah. They kick ass." She said smiling and laughing with him. "You don't?"

"Nah, I'm more sixties." He ran his hand over his hair and avoided her gaze when she turned to talked to him. "Plus, Queen is just too camp."

Candy shrugged and reached into her pocket for the keys to the back door.

"Ah well, no one's perfect." She said simply.

Mason thought for a few seconds. He checked his watch and suddenly his chest began to get tight. He had two minutes.

It was time to do it.

He took a step forward and stood in front of Candy, blocking her from entering the backway of the pub.

"I need to tell you something."

She stopped and looked up at him. She was only three or four inches smaller than him.

She was just a kid.

"We havn't met before and you don't know me…" He paused and bit his lip. "But I know you."

Candy's smile faded and a look of worry spread across her face.

"What?"

Mason looked at the ground and wished his eyes would stop stinging.

"You were born on the fifteenth of April, 1966." He said looking up.

Candy glared at him.

"How-"

"Your mother's name was Maria Tyler and you never knew your father." He continued.

Candy took a few steps back, leaving Mason in the rain. She stared at him in fear.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Your mom said that he didn't want a family and that he killed himself. Because of you." He said, ignoring her question. The feeling in his chest was getting tighter and tighter.

"You need to leave me alone right now." Candy threatened. She looked up and down the alley for help.

Mason looked at her and couldn't stop it anymore. One by one, tiny tears began forming in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. They mixed with the rain.

"She lied to you. Your mother lied. Your dad didn't kill himself because of you." He took a step forward and ran a hand down Candy's shivering arm. "He…"

Mason turned and faced the wall. He could hear Candy taking in terrified gasps of air.

"I don't know who the hell you are but stay the fuck away from me."

And then, as she ran into the pub, Mason began to slide down to the ground and cry silent tears.

Minutes later he picked the lock on the backdoor and entered. Over twenty years of doing what he did, Mason could tell how Candy had come to be lying dead on the floor of the back room, blood drying on the tiled floor. Simple really.

She had slipped on the floor because of her wet shoes, knocked her head against the metal keg across from her and landed on the ground. Dead on landing probably. Hopefully.

He walked over to the body and brushed some hair from her face. Then he glanced at the corner and saw her sitting with her legs pressed against her chest, crying.

"You okay?" He asked as if they had just met.

"No."

"Understandable."

"I'm dead." He couldn't tell if that was a question or a statement.

"Yeah. You are."

She looked up at him with huge tearful eyes.

"Did you kill me?"

Mason shook his head slightly.

"Nah. That's not my job."

He stood there for several seconds and let her cry. She was taking it pretty hard. Shivering and taking in tiny gasps. He took his eyes from her ghostly form and looked instead at her body lying on the floor. He thought about cleaning up the blood. Trying to make her look better.

"Who are you?" She whispered suddenly.

Mason swallowed and looked back at her. The answer didn't come straight away. It took him a moment or two to say:

"I'm a grim reaper. I take peoples souls. Before they…die, so that they don't feel any pain when-."

"I didn't ask what you are or what you do." She looked him in the eye and for the first time he didn't avoid it. "I asked who you are. You knew things. About me, my birthday, my parents. Who are you?"

Mason sat down next to her on the floor. He looked her in the eye. She had such beautiful eyes.

"I died twenty one years ago. When I died you were five months old. I'm…well, um…I'm…" He laughed slightly and looked towards the ceiling. "Fuck, this is hard to say."

Candy stared at him and whipped away her tears.

"Candy, um, what would you say if I told you-"

"Oh for fucks sake just say it." She snapped.

"-that I was your dad?" He finished.

She blinked at him. She paused for a moment and then looked at her body. She cocked her head and stared at the pool of blood that lay next to her. Then her gaze flitted over to the metal keg with her blood glistening on the rim. The sight of the keg made her want a drink. She smiled sadly at the thought of never having a beer again. No liquor, no liqueurs, no daiquiris. Shit.

"I'd probably say I missed you." Candy whispered with the saddest smile Mason had ever seen.

"I'm not joking." He said as if trying to get some sort of other response from her.

"Me neither."

She rested her head on his shoulder and let the silent tears roll down her cheeks. Mason let her be.

The next day Mason asked for a transfer. For some reason he felt he couldn't stay in London anymore. The night before he had spent three hours talking to his daughter. He had told her everything about him that he thought suitable to tell and she did the same. He felt that both of them knew the other wasn't telling the whole truth.

When he arrived in Seattle he had to find his way to a restaurant called "Der Waffle Hous". He got on a bus and sat down next to a twenty-something guy with a Walkman on his lap and earphones in his ears. But despite the earphones Mason could here the music blaring in the guy's ears. 'Bicycle Race' by Queen.