Note: None of the characters from Dead Like Me the series or movie belong to me, and the original characters in this story are not based on any person. I know this doesn't follow the DLM movie universe, but I began creating this piece before then. Please enjoy

Update: Two years later, I'm back after a long bout of writers block. After rereading my first fan fiction EVER I realized I made many, many horrid mistakes. So, as a mini project over the summer/finals week in college (that's right, I'm in college now) I'll be editing the current chapters, and possibly, if writers block permits, create a seventh chapter. Update of April 20, 2010 over. Toodles and enjoy.

____Dead Like You____

__Chapter One__

You know what sucks? Dying. Wanna know what's worse? Falling out of a window and dying. You want to know even worse you say? Falling out of a window and dying for a damn cat you don't even like.

You know what's weird? Standing next to some blond chick you don't know after falling out of a window and dying for a damn cat you don't even like and seeing your lifeless body on the ground.

Seeing my arm twisted behind my back at an odd angle, I could only respond with, "Oh that's so wrong."

"Ummm, not good….." the blonde said.

I stared at her with my mouth open, "Uhhh, am I dead? If so, fuck yeah 'not good!'"

"Possibly undead, I'm not really sure. But Rube is going to be pii-iissed." She said pissed in a sing song voice, which inadvertently made me pii-iissed.

"Who?" I asked in an angry tone.

"I'll…well, he'll explain later. Just follow me sweetie." She had a sad smile I couldn't help but notice Something wasn't right, and I had a feeling that something was me. As we walked down my street towards a very pretty red car, which I would know the name and year of if I paid any attention to my step dad, she kind of looked back, like something was missing and she was trying to find it.

She turned to me as we got to the car. She held out her hand and said "I'm Daisy, Daisy Adair."

"Davis Dulette," I responded, and reluctantly shook her hand. "You weren't our new neighbor, were you?"

We arrived at "Der Waffle Haus." Inside it smelled of maple syrup and bacon. It reminded me of Sunday mornings when my step dad would make waffles with butterscotch chips in them, a shame since it's the only thing about him that I liked. I guess I won't be getting those any time soon. Daisy was quiet on the way there. There was a stern looking old man in a booth over by a bar. Another guy looked like he was homeless and a crack head. It kind of looked like a drug deal.

"Sweetie, I would stay here for now." Daisy said as she walked towards them.

I crossed my arms over my chest and waited impatiently. While waiting there, a larger woman with a name tag stating that she was, "Kiffany," walked through me. Or at least I think she did.

I saw her walk towards me, then wondering who would name their child Kiffany, and then everything went blank, then suddenly I could see again and my insides felt like they were on a roller coaster. Once I felt better I shouted, "Rude much!?"

The crack head came up to the booth next to me and sat down. He looked around nervously and finally said in one long sentence without any pause whatsoever, "YouneedtobeverynicetoKiffany'."

"Are you high?" I asked him with a confused look.

"Are you God?" He asked in a British accent with a sad puppy look on his face. I totally would have fallen for him just being a crazy man who needed a bowl of soup, but the glossed over look of his eyes had the opposite affect

I raised an eyebrow at him and walked towards the table that Daisy and the other man sat at. "That man is high," I state pointing my thumb at Cracky.

"Aren't we all?" Asked the old guy.

"I think he might be dealing." I said to Daisy nodding my head to the Old Guy.

"Sit down, sweetie." Daisy said. And another sad type of smile from Daisy. She seemed like the only flower in this patch of weeds. Perhaps literally, considering the possibility the British man was smoking some very bad things.

It made me feel like I was in trouble, which reminded me of school; which reminded me that I was dead; which made me think that being dead wasn't so bad; which reminded me that I had apparently done something wrong.

"Soooooooo," I said, "What's shakin'?"

"Jesus, even from the up there Peanut's fuckin' my shit up." Old Guy said to himself.]

"The sailor at the other side of the booth is Rube." Daisy pointed out.

"Ahoy, Rube." Saying the name sounded funny, I was used to calling people "Mr." or "Mrs."

"Davis, am I right?" Rube looked tired, and sad, and a bunch of other colors from the macabre rainbow.

"Yes, sir." I said coyly. If anybody could scare me, I think it would be Rube. He had these dark eyes, a permanent scowl, lots of forehead wrinkles.

"Earlier tonight you died, and you filled somebody else's soul quota. Because you were their last soul, you will now be taking their place. You are a Grim Reaper." He said this kind of fast. I could tell it had been a tough blow on him.

"That girl earlier wasn't our new neighbor either, was she?" I turned and asked Daisy. I even surprised myself at how calm I was.

"No, that was Georgia."

Rube put his face in one hand. "Daisy, could you and Roxy take care of him? I have Mason to deal with and don't need all of this on my hands."

"Sure thing Rube," She said and patted his arm.

He got up and grabbed Cracky; whom I am assuming originally had the name Mason. I got up and moved to the other side of the booth. The seat should have been warm from Rube's body heat, but I didn't feel anything at all, must come with the "people being able to walk through you" territory.

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait for Roxy. Thank you, Kiffany." The woman who walked through me earlier had given Daisy fruit and cottage cheese. I personally couldn't stand the latter. And I wasn't sure I was fond of Kiffany. You shouldn't just go walking through people, even if you can't see them.

"No problem, baby," Suddenly she looked at me. Was I now suddenly visible? She hugged herself and rubbed her arms with the opposite hand. "Ooh, I got the chills tonight. Something is in the air…"

"Change," Daisy said.

"What sweetie?" Kiffany asked.

"Keep the change." Daisy said handing Kiffany a 10. Very generous tipper, that Daisy is.

"Thank you, have a good night," Kiffany said and walked away, every few steps glancing back at the what should be full booth, but wasn't due to my lack of corporality.

"Who's Roxy?" I asked when Kiffany left our table.

"She's a reaper, like us. And we're going to go on a little road trip when she gets off work."

"Where are we going?" I asked, watching her pop a piece of cantaloupe into her mouth.

"The morgue," she said, taking a grape this time.

We stood on the roof of a morgue. Roxy was in her police uniform and Daisy in her floral dress and high heels. It reminded me of June Cleaver if Mrs. Cleaver had blond hair and was known for sleeping with stars of the 30's. During the trip here, Daisy proved herself to be quite the storyteller.

"You're supposed to get closure from this…Are you closed yet?" Daisy asked, she had already complained three times of the cold.

"Apparently not, the mortician is poking his liver."

"I'm oddly okay with this." I said watching as the mortician, whose name was currently unknown, started to staple me back closed. "Okay, I have a little bit of a problem with that." I said watching the staples reflect the light and made my corpse sparkly. I would never look at glitter the same way.

"Well, you're closed now, closure complete, let's go." She turned and started towards the exit, Roxy followed.

"Uhh, where am I going to sleep?"

"Please tell me you have a reap with an apartment tonight." Roxy said to Daisy.

"No, no other reaps today. I guess he's sleeping your place." Daisy continued to walk towards the entrance.

"Nuh huh bitch, Rube placed him with you. You had George as a room mate, so this shouldn't be any different. He's sleeping at your place."

I refused to break the two ladies argument with the point that as a ghost-like being, I most likely didn't need to sleep at all.

"Oh Roxy, the only reason I let Georgia stay there is because she was quiet, I know nothing about him, how am I supposed to get my beauty rest if I think he's going through my things?"

Roxy placed her hand on her gun holster. "I have worked since eight this morning Daisy, I will shoot you."

"Okay, okay. He'll sleep at my place. You really shouldn't be that aggressive, it makes age lines."

As I laid on the red couch in Daisy's living room I thought to myself, "What do I do now?" I couldn't sleep. Or was I technically already sleeping since I was dead? Daisy forgot to turn on the TV so I was stuck staring at the dark ceiling. I think I was starting to go crazy.

All that was left to do was think about my last day on earth. I got up, ate breakfast, went to school and came home. I stayed in my room doing my homework like I usually do. Only tonight something different had happened. My step father, who wishes that I call him Stu, lacking in delicious meat and potatoes, knocked and opened my door while I was working on calculus. "Hey Davey," I hated it when he called me this, it made me want to smack him right on the bald spot on the back of his head. My grandmother, on my bio dad's side, told me to never trust a bald man, they always have something to hide.

By opening the door he let his beast, Prince Gary the calico, into my room. He quickly made his way onto my bed. "Get out," I said to the cat nudging him a little. He hissed and tried to claw me but I pulled back quickly. "David! Don't upset Gary, you know he's handling depression since moving into the house." The first problem was that David wasn't my name; the second problem was that he picked up the cat and stroked its head softly, now permanently giving the cat permission to make me his bitch.

"Sorry," I said rolling my eyes. The cat had it out for me since the day he set foot in the house; if he peed, tore anything up, or killed a rodent, it would always be in my room.

"Your mother wants you to come downstairs, we have new neighbors."

"I didn't know there were any houses for sale on our block." I said.

Stu shrugged and put Gary back on my bed, "She still wants you to come down and meet them."

I made my way downstairs behind Stu. Two blond women sat on our couch, both pretty young, one looking like she had hit her face into the wall of a crack den. My mom came in with glasses of water. "Ladies, this is my son Davis. Davis, this is Millie and Daisy Adair, they're sisters that just moved in."

"Hi," I said with a smile on my face, sticking out my hand for a good shake, no need to be sad yet, that would come later with the whole, death situation. Millie, aka Crack Den (No relation to Cracky), or as I now know her, George, shook my hand first. It felt a little tingly and her hand lingered a little. If she was trying to flirt, she was definitely barking up the wrong tree. I shook Daisy's hand and they stood.

"Well, we have to go and finish unpacking. It was nice to meet you." Daisy said quite eloquently. I felt a bit like a leper considering I had merely shaken their hand and then they ran away, with a very lame excuse I might add.

After they left I went back to my room, where I noticed my window was open and a faint meowing on the tree branches outside. I sighed heavily and went towards the window next to my bed. "I know I am going to regret this," I said thinking a few scratches would be the biggest worry of saving Prince Gary from his wooden prison.

I thought that if the cat fell out of the tree and died I would be to blame since I was the one always shooing it out of my room and yelling at him.

I let my knees rest on the windowsill and my hands went on the branch Gary was stuck on. "Come here little kitty, I'm not gonna hurt you… this time, come on, come on in," I said in a high pitched voice. Suddenly I felt my hand slip, my chin hit the branch and I came tumbling down the tree, hitting my head on it a few times. It was odd that I didn't feel anything, but that could have been because of the lack of soul.

I discovered later, through a newspaper article about my tragedy, that they didn't discover my body until an hour later. They know how I died, but not why. No one will ever understand my hatred for felines.

Finally morning came. Daisy and I went back to the waffle house donned, "Der Waffle Haus." Already there, was Rube and his tired eyes. We sat down and, eventually, Mason came from the bathroom and Roxy came in her blue uniform.

Yellow was a color I hated all of my life, and I would learn to dread the color in the afterlife. Rube handed out post-its to all but me, who couldn't physically move anything still.

Daisy explained that I wouldn't be able to physically touch things until I was buried, slash cremated, slash something else they do with dead bodies. My funeral wasn't scheduled until tomorrow. It was going to be a long 24 hours.

"You're going with Mason today, kiddo; we meet back here at night."

"Okay." I said.

Rube looked at me a little funny, "No questions? Concerns? No whining? No, 'Why does it have to be this way? Why is it so unfair?'"

I shook my head in a, "no," fashion.

"Damn, someone decided to throw me a bone with this one."

I simply shrugged. "Not like I have anything better to do with my life. Or death. Or does this count as limbo?"

"Right now I think you're considered a ghosty." Mason said with a grin.

"Actually I think ghosts have to technically be seen, heard, or move something. Currently I have none of these skills," I pointed out.

"I like this one, he's kind of funny." Roxy said sipping her coffee.

"Awww, can we keep 'im Rube? Can we?" Daisy said putting her hands under her chin and fluttering her eyelashes.

"We'll have to see. But for now, just tag along with Mason. Just don't shit on the carpet kid."

"Alright, I guess I'll explain this before we leave." Mason turned the post-it around so I could see. He pointed to a name. "This person will die," he said, moving his finger he was pointing at an address. "This is where they will die." Finally moving his finger to the bottom, "This is the time they will die, and we need to take their soul before then, got it?"

I nodded; I figured there would be more instruction on how to take the soul "on the job," so to speak.

End of Chapter 1