Ben awoke quietly, his mind alert at 3 in the morning. Usually he didn't wake until his alarm went off, but tonight something was different. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach; something was about happen that would change his life forever. But as smart as he was he couldn't put a finger on it. Suddenly out of the darkness that surrounded him came an arm that chose to wrap itself around his middle, startling him slightly. Realizing it was the girl who he brought home for the night, he smiled. Life was easy for him now, with the entire world under his feet, he could do anything he wanted. The only downside was that he had to avoid the press. Ben didn't mind the press, but they had a problem of butting in to his business, something that really annoyed him. Tonight though he managed to go out with one of the makeup artists that were on the set he was at without being noticed. Ben reminded himself to check the news in the morning though. Turning over, he slowly fell back to sleep with the feeling of excitement and dread growing within him.

He stood in a house; a house that he didn't recognize. The living room seemed to take up most of the living space, but to his left he could see a kitchen and in front of him a half walled hallway that had rooms dotting the expanse of the back wall.

" Where in the hell am I?" The question formed itself in his mind like a fiery brand. Every word seemed to burn themselves on his retinas, reminded him that he existed. He turned to face the kitchen and on the stove were a couple pots, one of them starting to boil over; and almost as if by magic a young woman appeared form the gloom of the hallway, much to Ben's surprise. She appeared to be in her early twenties, her body slightly fluffy. But she was graceful; her feet knew how to carry her weight with unnatural ease.

" Must have been a dancer." He muttered, yet as he watched she seemed to be having a conversation to thin air. It was only after reading her lips did he realize she was actually singing. " Lip-syncher, and a good one too." She danced around the kitchen provoking a smile from Ben. Suddenly the world shifted on its side and spat Ben out unto his bed that was slowly being warmed by the morning sun.

" Morning sleepyhead." The woman's voice was high, with a slightly faked accent. Sometimes he hated playing Sherlock; he now knew how to read and somewhat deduce what and who people were. " Morning." He murmured as he pulled himself out of bed. She appeared in one of his shirts like in a movie, the shirt covering what she wanted to have covered. Ben knew to check his shirt count before she left so she didn't steal it.

" My God I am growing paranoid." He thought to himself and pulling himself out her arms, went to take a shower. The hot water steamed up the bathroom and washed his night away with it down the drain, but Ben knew that he would remember the girl from his dream. Dreams were things that he enjoyed, especially the ones he could remember; sometimes he was the badass hero. As he ran over the dream in his mind, Ben got dressed and was out the door to grab a couple of coffee.


Some of the things in here are fiction, but its adds a personality to a picture. R&R