This is my first Dead Like Me ficcie, so I'd really 3 it if ya could r&r for me. The next chapter shold be coming in a coupla weeks, and I'd be greatful for any constructive critisism that might make the whole thing more worth reading, lol. Hope you like!

DEAD LIKE ME - REUNION

Chapter One – The Day Is Blue

(Set straight after Season Two)

Did you ever get anyone saying to you 'Things never turn out the way you imagine them to.'? Shit, that's happened to me so many times. Now, being dead and all, I just imagine new things to suck…and it usually works.

When I lost my virginity, I thought "Holy shit!" and it was an experience. I just didn't imagine that the asshole wouldn't call.

I guess you learn from your mistakes. That must make me the wisest person in America. Or the wisest reaper…

Whatever.

Anyway, it's true – things never turn out to be the way you'd imagine them. Believe me, I know from experience.

Wanna know? Take a ticket and sit the fuck down, then.

"Shit!" I said angrily. The damn car wouldn't start. Again. For the past couple of weeks the stupid thing has just been refusing to move. I nearly missed a reap because of it. Rube would have been angry.

So there's an upside to everything.

Not long after I managed to get the car to move of its own accord, I also managed to get stuck in a traffic jam. Bad timing, since I was meant to be at Der Waffle Haus already.

This was not my day.

You're probably wondering why the hell I'm telling you about a stupid-ass traffic jam. Well, the story has to start somewhere.

So, I'm sitting in my car, minding my own business. Well actually, I was half asleep and in my own world, but who's gonna be picky? I didn't notice that the cars started moving, so this guy behind me starts to spew shit:

"Hey, can't ya see the fucking cars are movin'? Some of us actually have a job!"

Yeah, I reap people for a living. Feel like a demonstration? Still, I couldn't be bothered not listening to him:

"What are ya, dead or something?"
Yeah. More than you would ever imagine, asshole.

"Move your damn car!"

Idiot. I should have warned him, and I'll warn you now, I wasn't in a good mood. So I moved my car.

Problem was, I sorta went in reverse right into his poor excuse for a crap-heap. It was an accident, of course. Too bad he didn't think so. Like I cared.

He got out of his car (which looked more like a fucking tank!), thinking he was more of a man than a cocktail frank and a couple of shrivelled cherries.

Truckers are all the same – so full of their own shit. I was so gonna give him hell!

"You're right!" I said to him as I walked up to his truck, "Some of us do have a job. By the looks of it, you're a professional piece of crap. D'ya wanna know what I do for a living?"

"What?" he said, not trying too good to stop the veins popping out of his neck, "What do you do? Bitch at people who actually have a life?"

"I kill people for a living." I said blatantly, knowing he would either think I was crazy or be scared the hell out of his cocktail frank.

"What the hell?" he answered, also suddenly aware that our argument had made another traffic jam. He seemed scared, but that might have had to do with the sudden car horn that came from behind us.

See what I mean about being full of shit? This guy was all talk and no backup.

"Look," I said, for some reason deciding to waste even more time talking to him, "I am not in a good mood today, in case you haven't guessed. I don't kill people for a living but if you like, I could make a start. You could even be my first customer!" I continued, giving him the most obviously fake smile I could manage. I could tell that I was coming very close to the edge with him. Hence the second bout of hell-giving:

"So, if you don't mind, I'm going to go back to my car now. You see the one in front, that isn't a sack of shit like this thing here?" I laughed, slapping his bonnet, "And you are gonna shut your trash mouth before I seriously think about shutting it for you," I smiled over-sweetly, just like before, "You got that?"

"Jeez…" was all he could say as he sank back into his seat. Obviously, no woman had spoken to him like that before. Probably, all of his past women (which I'd assume to be as stupid as him) actually believed his bull.

Having taken out my frustrations (which were mainly to do with the car) on the truck driver, I went back to my car that, thank God, was still working. Smiling at myself in the rear-view mirror, I headed to Der Waffle Haus to collect my post-it.

I know you're thinking that I probably overreacted a little at the truck driver, and I probably did. Like I said though, I was having a particularly bad morning (which had barely even started) and I needed to do something to make myself feel better.

If tearing shreds out of some wannabe truck driver for next to no reason was that something, I wasn't going to be the one to complain.

I couldn't see Rube anywhere when I finally did get to Der Waffle Haus. Not that I was surprised, because he'd been doing quite a few disappearing acts lately. Asshole.

Roxy was missing too, but at least she had an excuse. She was a cop. What excuse did Rube have? Apart from hand out times of death to us every so often, what did he actually do?

Even though the other two hadn't turned up, Mason and Daisy were sat in the usual place in the middle of the room, both looking very guilty about something. Mason, I could understand. It's just…well, it's not like Daisy to actually get worried about stuff, or at least show that she gets worried about stuff. She obviously forgot to put up that protective shield today.

Being the caring person that I was, I decided to see what was up. Plus, because Rube and his post-its weren't around, I didn't have any other excuse for not going to work.

"Hey." I said flatly (still in a bad mood, by the way), dropping myself down next to Mason and opposite Daisy. I got no response from my 'Hey', so decided to just sit there until someone else spoke.

I noticed that Mason was a little (or, being honest, very) bruised. He barely even realised that I was looking at him, so I quickly lost interest and looked across at Daisy, who also seemed to be in her own worried world.

Was no one going to pay the smallest bit of attention to me today? My bad day was obviously not obvious enough to anyone. Damn.

I kicked Mason in the leg to try and snap him out of wherever he was. Not surprisingly, I actually got a response:

"Ow! Watch the fucking trousers!" he exclaimed, quickly bringing his leg up on the table so he could rub it better, "These are new! And didn't you notice the bruises?"

"Yeah," I said, not much giving a crap, "How did you get those?" I knew Ray was dead, so who else could have beaten the shit out of him?

"Don't you know that I box?" he said miserably, his mind still evidently not in the same place as the conversation.

I laughed at that. The idea of Mason boxing seemed about as realistic as Rube cracking a smile. I looked over at Daisy again, half expecting her to also find the idea hilarious. Instead, she just stared back at me, looking as sullen and down in the dumps as Mason.

"Where's Rube?" I asked.

"Bathroom." Mason replied distractedly.

"With his post-its?"

"Yes." he obviously didn't want to talk to me today.

"Okay, what's up?" I asked finally, getting more than annoyed that I didn't have a clue what was going on. Mason was about to reply, but he'd barely got his mouth open before Daisy jumped in before him:

"Don't tell her, Mason." she said quietly.

"Don't tell me what?"

"It doesn't matter." Daisy replied, although it was obvious that whatever they were hiding mattered more than they were letting on.

"Daisy," I began, "If something bad's happened, I wouldn't mind knowing what the fuck it is!"

"Bad day much?" Mason said, with almost an ounce of real attention. Wow, they had noticed!

"Yeah," I replied, "And it'll get worse if you don't tell me what's happened."

"I think we should tell her, Daisy." Mason said. It actually sounded like he was using his brain! Would wonders never cease?

"Okay," Daisy agreed finally, "But it definitely can't go any further, right? It's bad enough that she knows what we did to Ray."

"Right." I said, getting more annoyed by the second, and also confused at the way Daisy was acting. Whatever they were going to tell me, it was bad. And by 'bad', I mean a lot worse than them killing ray, turning him into a pissed off graveling only to be re-killed by me.

"Well," Mason began, with that same worried tone to his voice, "You know the whole thing with Ray?"

"Yeah…" I drawled, secretly begging him to get on with it.

"Well…uh…," he fiddled with the scarf around his neck, looking at both me and Daisy as he did it, "I think Rube knows…and if he does, we're all very bollocksed."