Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own Haven. But a girl can dream, right?

Author's note: This story was started around the end of season 1/beginning of season 2 and due to the nature of the show will likely be AU very soon. Feedback is always appreciated!

xxxx

She awoke with a start, her thoughts still cloudy from sleep. The first thing she noticed was that the soft warmth of her queen-sized mattress had been replaced with something cold, hard, and gritty. The second thing she noticed was the rain which was gently falling, soaking through her silken pajamas and matting her brunette hair to the side of her face. The third and fourth things she noticed together: the squealing of tires on pavement and the headlights illuminating her in a pool of light.

xxxx

Across town he too awoke abruptly. It took a moment for his mind to process that he was in his own bed, on his boat, and that all was well. He leaned back against the headboard gasping for breath, eyes shut tight and fists unconsciously clenching handfuls of his sheets. After a few minutes of measured breathing he arose and slipped into a pair of worn out jeans.

"How long had it been?" Duke wondered, trying to count back as he made his way to the deck. Days? Weeks? He was startled when the answer came to him as he leaned into the cool late night breeze. "Two months. Two whole months since the last nightmare. Which means it's been a year now. A year since…" He wouldn't let himself think further than that. He needed distraction, and fast. He stood on the deck a few moments longer letting the cool rain rinse away the residual perspiration from his nightmare and then leapt to the dock and set off on foot determined to find something to occupy his time until he could open the Grey Gull.

xxxx

Two Weeks Later

Nathan Wournos leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk as he sorted through the file resting haphazardly against his legs. He sighed, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a long moment he reopened his eyes and started flipping through the file once more.

"You're not going to find anything," his partner admonished. "We've been over it all a million times already. We haven't missed anything. I'm sorry, Nathan, but I think we're just going to have to wait until the next incident and hope we get something more to go on."

Nathan glared back at Audrey. "So what? We just sit around twiddling our thumbs and waiting for this girl to pop up in the middle of some random road? Someone could get killed next time. It could be me. Or you. So until we've got something better to do, or another lead, I'm going to keep going through this file." With that he resumed his shuffling.

He had to admit, if only to himself, that Audrey had a point. They really didn't have much to go on. A sketch which all the witnesses agreed was an accurate depiction of the young lady who had been appearing mysteriously and abruptly in the middle of Haven's roads with seemingly no rhyme or reason. A description of a couple of different outfits she'd been seen in. None of which helped since no one thus far had recognized the girl and she never stuck around long enough for anyone to ask any questions. Nathan wondered, not for the first time, why she always ran off on foot afterwards. "Surely if she can pop up in the middle of the road somewhere she could just as easily pop off to somewhere else," he mused.

Audrey Parker watched her partner from across the office. While she understood his desire to solve this mystery she was afraid that he was going to burn himself out by obsessing. She needed him to be prepared when the next big crisis hit. While this mystery girl was a fascination, and certainly a potential threat to the motorists of Haven, Audrey knew that there was likely to be a more pressing disaster at any given moment. Since logic was getting her nowhere she opted next for distraction.

"Come on Nathan. You've been staring at that file for hours. Why don't we take a break? Go get a drink or two, relax for awhile, and come at it fresh in the morning. A little R&R might be just what our minds need to sort through this puzzle," Audrey suggested.

At first she thought he was going to ignore her as he sat in silence for another minute, eyes glued to the file before him. When she heard his resigned sigh she knew she had won. He flipped the file shut while simultaneously swinging his legs to the floor.

"Well, let's go then. You got any place in particular in mind?" he groused as locked up.

"Why don't we head over to the Grey Gull?" she replied casually.

"I should've known," he muttered, grimacing. If there was one thing he didn't want after a long and frustrating day it was to deal with Duke Crocker. Though there was never any guarantee Duke would be there. Realistically the odds were just as good that they'd run into him anywhere else in the small town if they went elsewhere so he supposed the Gull was as good a spot as any. But two weeks of no progress on this case was irritating him and he was in no mood to be agreeable. "Am I a bad cop for hoping that he's out smuggling something tonight?" Nathan pondered.

Audrey looked on from her position in the hallway as Nathan finished securing the office. He shook his head in resignation and sighed again, she assumed for dramatic effect. She would never understand why Nathan wouldn't just admit that he liked Duke. Sure, they fought constantly, but it was always in a competitive fashion that seemed almost brotherly. She had spent more time than she cared to admit pondering that very subject when more serious mysteries failed to present and she needed to occupy her mind with something other than Lucy and the Troubles.

"Hmm…" she mused, "Lucy and the Troubles would make an awesome band name." Audrey had a brief vision of herself on stage surrounded by some of the more unique citizens of Haven she'd encountered as a backup band. She shook her head to clear the image. "Wow, I guess Nathan's not the only one that needs a break tonight…"

It was moments like this that Nathan found himself wondering what really went on inside his partner's mind. She had that faraway expression on her face for a moment and then he watched as she literally shook herself out of it. She smirked as their eyes met, letting him know that whatever it was she had been thinking about a moment before was going to remain her secret. He raised an eyebrow then jerked his head toward the exit and she followed him to the door in silence, the smirk widening into a grin at having been caught in her daydream.

xxxx

"I don't give a damn," Duke snarled through gritted teeth. "Just make sure it doesn't happen again." He stalked off toward the back, leaving the new waitress staring after him in disbelief.

"Don't mind him," he heard the bartender mutter as he strode away, "he's been in a helluva mood the last couple weeks. Usually a pretty easy-going guy but he can be a real piece of work when he's bent out of shape over something. Just steer clear of him 'til it blows over."

The young blonde replied shakily, "And how exactly am I supposed to tell…"

"…when it's blown over?" Duke mentally filled in the remainder of her query as he shut the door to the supply room effectively cutting himself off from the rest of the conversation. "Good question," he thought with a sigh. "Hope someone has an answer. And soon."

He leaned wearily back against a wooden crate with his left hand gripping the edge for balance while his right ran a course over his face and through his hair before coming to rest on the back of his neck. He allowed his eyes to shut for a long moment and felt the burn of sleep deprivation. He knew he'd been overly harsh with the new girl, it was only her second day after all, but he hadn't slept well in two weeks and the exhaustion combined with the images playing in his mind from his continued nightmares resulted in a very short temper.

Duke reached into his pocket and fingered the bottle stashed there. He normally hated pills of any kind, much less sleeping pills since remaining alert was important in his line of business, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He just hoped the pills worked better than his attempt at drinking himself to sleep. Nightmares were bad enough. Waking up from a nightmare only to find yourself passed out on your own floor and your back so stiff you can hardly get up? He shuddered in remembrance.

"Wonder if anyone would notice if I just headed out the back?" he wondered briefly as he pushed himself away from the crate. He eyed the back door briefly then turned resolutely back toward the bar. As much as he wanted to make a quick escape back to his boat to get some rest he knew he needed to go apologize. He didn't want to deal with looking for another new waitress right now.

xxxx

Nathan and Audrey had just seated themselves at a small table near the bar and were waiting patiently for their drinks when Duke came in from the back.

"He looks like hell," Audrey observed.

Nathan scowled in response. "Duke always looks like hell," he replied.

Audrey cocked an eyebrow and met his gaze, silently chastising him. He looked away first, too much a gentleman to argue. "Besides. Duke isn't worth it," he thought. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm just not in the mood to deal with him right now. It's been a long day."

Her look changed almost immediately from one of reproach to one of worry. "You're working too hard, Nathan. You're going to overdo it." Her voice was soft, the words of concern rolling over him.

"It's not exactly avoidable right now," he countered. "Believe me, I love a good vacation as much as the next guy, but Haven isn't exactly the kind of town where the Chief of Police can take a break."

"I know, but…" she trailed off as the young waitress Duke had been talking to burst into tears and ran out the door. They watched as Duke threw up his hands in exasperation then stormed off in the opposite direction. "That was weird," she said, having completely lost her train of thought.

"Duke's always been a jerk," Nathan replied, "nothing new about that."

"To something pretty, young, and blonde?"

"Okay, so it was weird. I'm still not overly concerned," he responded dryly.

"You should be," Audrey intoned darkly, her face growing serious. Nathan leaned forward in his chair minutely, concern at her sudden change in demeanor evident on his own face.

"Why's that?" he replied in a low voice. "What did she see that I missed?"

Audrey leaned in closer herself. "Because," she said dramatically, "now you have to walk up there and get our drinks."

xxxx

Sometime later after their second round had been finished Nathan and Audrey decided to call it a night. They parted ways at the foot of the staircase leading up into her apartment. She gave his hand a small squeeze in parting, which set his dormant nerve endings on fire and caused his breath to hitch a little in his throat. He hoped she hadn't noticed. While she claimed she didn't feel at all weird about it Nathan certainly did. He hated that his inability to feel the majority of the time resulted in such noticeable reactions on the occasions when she touched him.

Nathan was still pondering Audrey's touch, and wondering what he could do to control his reactions better, when he climbed into his Bronco and buckled his seatbelt. He rolled the front windows down to allow the cool breeze to enter the cab. He couldn't feel the breeze, of course, but it carried with it all the scents of a Maine night in Haven. He started toward home, listing the familiar scents as a way to distract himself along the way. "Pine. Wood. Smoke from a bonfire. Someone grilled some chicken. The ocean…"

When he couldn't think of anything else to add to his list it occurred to him for the first time how tired he really was. Since he'd lost the ability to feel again his other senses had become increasingly important and he spent a great deal of time contemplating scents. He'd become quite adept at it, and could identify and separate a great many on any typical night. "Guess it's a good thing I'm almost home," he thought. "I probably shouldn't be driving."

Maybe it was the exhaustion from a long day's work followed by spending too much time at the Gull. Maybe it was the drinks he'd had earlier in the evening. Or maybe it was just inevitable. One moment Nathan was debating whether to shower or head straight to bed when he got home, the next he was slamming on his brakes, throwing the truck into park, unbuckling his seatbelt and throwing open the door. He ran to the front of the truck and knelt down to listen for the sound of breathing, cursing his inability to feel a pulse.

Once satisfied the person was breathing steadily he pulled back to assess the severity of the injuries, cell phone already in hand and poised to dial 911. His eyes went first to her face and he hesitated. He knew that face. "Guess Parker was right," he thought, "we just had to wait for the next incident."