Disclaimer: I don't own the series or the characters. I wish I did, but I don't. You'll give whatever companies that are involved the credit. Instead, I own a word processer, the DVDs, and an overactive imagination which will just have to do.
Summary: What can see, but not necessarily be seen?

The Darkest Shadows
by Barbara C.

ONE

"Within the darkest shadows
lurk the forgotten
waiting to be redeemed."

It was twilight, a time when neither daylight nor darkness reigned over one another.

It was twilight, a time when the shadows were at their longest before consuming the world within their cold tendrils.

A lonely little rundown truck stop with its very own 24-hour diner sat along what was probably the most desolate stretch of an east-west interstate that could be found. There were a few other buildings in the community. A strip mall, a gas station, and the obligatory cheap motel could all be found, but none were very welcoming places, especially after the sun went down. Each establishment was unloved and without care of the buildup of grease and grime left by the daily visitors and various inhabitants.

In contrast to its dismal surroundings, cheery lights blazed out from the diner, beckoning travelers in; despite the condition, it too was in. Only a hand full of people occupied the diner this evening. Two waitresses and a cook kept the place running, while a young couple, a trucker, an elderly local, a young man, and a young woman kept them busy.

Blue eyes surveyed the scene. The young couple sat in a booth at the front of the diner. They were likely driving to their honeymoon destination, given the sensible new Volvo parked out front and their constant giggling and inability to keep their hands off each other. The surveyor deduced that people with newly purchased "sensible" vehicles did not elope with girlfriends or drive to Vegas for flings. Of course the fact that the woman kept smiling while looking at her left hand where a glint of metal could be seen and the fact that Las Vegas was the closest major stop on the highway had given plenty of hints as well. Whether they'd been married in "Sin City" or elsewhere and were on their way to or from the city didn't much interest Blue Eyes, but Blue Eyes knew nonetheless.

Seated at the counter was the trucker, a regular customer on his route. Given his conversations with the waitresses and the local plates and logos on the semi out front that matched his hat that much was easy to deduce. Of course the man had his own dark secrets, some of which could be picked up on, but blue eyes moved on to the next, uncaring of the skeleton's the man had hidden.

The elderly local sat perched on a stool further down the counter. Likely deaf and definitely nearsighted, he pretended to read a newspaper he had brought in with him. He tried to appear gruff and distant, sitting apart from other patrons and rattling his paper as he turned the pages, but blue eyes observed so much more. This was likely the old man's nightly hot spot. He came to enjoy the company of others because he was lonely. His creases on the paper weren't fresh; he had likely read it already and had no reason to read now, this left him available to survey the diner occupants while cloaked. However, the man had isolated himself by being ashamed of his lack of hearing. The waitresses had figured it out though, even though he didn't realize it, and were conscientious enough to give him what he wanted.

The closed helmet and maps on the young man's table, not to mention the riding leathers and the fact that there was only one motorcycle in the parking lot, with out-of-state plates, it was easy to tell the young man was touring. His motorcycle was vintage and in excellent condition, likely a rebuild and likely the young man's pride and joy. Given his exhausted nature, he'd been riding all day and would be seeking a room at the dingy little motel shortly.

Blue eyes smirked, she would love to tour, to be absolutely free of responsibility and everything, but she couldn't; she had overstepped her boundaries as it was. The younger waitress called out an order to the cook; Sam, Darlene, Mary. Names, everyone had names. Everyone in this diner had a name, everyone in the world had a name; except for her. She was the exception.

Her gaze dropped to the steaming mug of coffee her hands were wrapped around. She had had a name once. Years of disuse had worn away her memory of it though. Now, alone in this dingy little diner she sat and waited, for what she did not know, but a gut feeling told her something was coming.

Above her corner table the fluorescent light flickered and then sputtered out, casting her into a gloom.

She smiled at the irony of the situation, then paused to sip at her drink. As the hot liquid slid down her throat, blue eyes gazed at the darkened landscape beyond the barrier of glass.

It was early fall, the leaves were just beginning to change their colors and drop from the few trees that grew here. Only an hour earlier, the sky had opened up offering a deluge in place of the usual blue skies. That was why she had sought shelter in the diner, to keep out of the rain; not so much as to keep out of the cold autumn night air.

She wrapped her hands more tightly around the chipped white ceramic and continued to stare out the window. Something was coming, she just didn't know what.

"Hey there," a feminine voice called out, shattering her thoughts. Blue eyes flicked to the speaker. The waitress, a middle-aged woman who, by the looks of her, had been on her feet all day stood beside the table with a fresh pot of coffee in hand. "Sorry about the light, the owner's been meanin' to fix that for a week now." She wore a guilty look as she continued to speak. "Er, would you like to change tables? There's plenty avail-"

"No," blue eyes met with the waitress's brown ones. "Here is fine. I like the dark."

The waitress hesitated, "All right, if you're sure. Would you like some more coffee then?"

"No, I'm good. Thank you though."

The woman nodded and then turned away, pausing a moment before turning back. "Say, we don't get many foreigners around here, mind if I ask where you're from?"

"England." A word uttered so softly it sounded more like shame than home. The waitress didn't seem to pickup on the emotion and after a smile and a nod, made her way across the diner to the next patron in need of coffee.

At this time of night, the diner wasn't packed, even remotely, but human contact was something Blue Eyes needed otherwise she'd have gone insane long ago. One couldn't exist as a hermit forever. Blue eyes tracked the woman with the coffee pot as she poured the liquid into a cup for another traveler. She smiled as she watched. Her began to wander as she imagined what the woman's life was like. Did she have a husband? A house? A family? Maybe even a dog? Did someone care for her or was she alone in the world? Was she happy wasting away in this diner or did she want more from life, lamenting over never realized dreams?

As though she felt someone watching her, the waitress turned around and glanced about the establishment. Blue eyes averted to stare at the landscape beyond the window. Slowly, she sipped her coffee.

She could have pried into the waitress's life, but trying to read that closely, she would have likely found out everything and more. That wasn't what she wanted to know. She didn't want to know the truth. She wanted to know that everything was all right with the world and that everything would be all right with the world. Even if they were lies, they would be comfort.

A late model sedan with absurdly dark tinted windows pulled into a parking spot on the far side of the door. As the passenger door opened, blue eyes narrowed as she instinctively pinned the tinting on the absurd notion of organized crime. However, the tinkling of glass crashing to the floor pulled her attention away from the newcomers. The young couple had gotten up to pay for their bill and while the younger waitress had been clearing the table, a plate slipped from her grasp.

As blue eyes took in the sight, a lone dog howled in the distance. The lonely, hollow sound sent chills down her spine, an almost impossible task for any normal person to accomplish.

Then again, she wasn't normal.

Something was coming; she felt it even stronger now. It was imminent.

The double doors leading into the diner opened and two people stepped through.

Likewise, neither was that sound.

She continued to sip her coffee, not minding its cool temperature. Blue eyes tracked the movements of the pair that had just entered. Her clueless waitress led them to the booth beside hers, but the pair didn't follow. They came to a stop beside her table.

The man spoke. "It's time to come home, Police Girl."

She replied as a naughty child who had been caught might, her head down she only uttered two words. "Yes, Master."


I had originally written this in one sitting late this last summer, but was unhappy with the way it initially turned out. It has taken until now for me to be happy enough with it to post it. Enjoy and if you like or dislike it let me know, but don't forget to read the next chapter.