"Morning," Michael greeted Selene.

She glanced up. "Hi," she said quietly. This day had been the second day she had slept on her own bed. The seven previous days she had collapsed from staying up at all hours in her office.

"Sleep well?" he asked, helping himself to a packet of cloned blood.

"Yes. No dreams," she commented. Unfortunately, she added silently. Ever since she had resolved to feel nothing, the dreams had stopped coming.

"Did you already have some—"

"—Mm hmm," she answered, not making any more eye contact. She had been that way a lot more lately, avoiding the gaze of anyone. Especially Michael.

It wasn't that she was angry with him, or that she blamed him for the death of Leon. But it was the fact that he was gone, her first love, and the fact that they had lost so many crucial members of the Stealth Shooters. Members that had made Selene feel happy at one point or another, and now they just brought pain to her soul.

James and Leon were casualties of that night's raid, but they weren't the only ones. The death toll had become officially one dozen.

And the death toll hadn't stopped there. Now, with so many important people on their team dead or switching sides, their side was vulnerable, and taking on some heavy damage.

"What was the death toll yesterday?" Michael asked, changing the topic in hopes of making Selene speak non-monosyllabic words.

"Five," she answered. She didn't look up from the paperwork she was looking at.

Sighing, Michael tried another course. "Whacha working on?"

Selene put down the paperwork and looked up. "Leon's funeral," she stated softly. They still hadn't held a funeral for his honor. They had already had one for the other dozen who had died that night, including James. But Selene had dragged her feet about Leon's funeral arrangements.

Michael swallowed hard. "Oh," was all he could say. "What, uh… are you…"

"I can't decide," Selene said, addressing his unasked question, "what he should wear." She looked down. "I have everything else taken care of. Coffin type, all that. It's just the outfit I'm struggling with." There were no tears in her eyes as she looked up. This surprised Michael. The Selene he knew would be bawling hysterically by now.

"I can't remember which he liked better, black or navy blue. I know that was his top two, but…" Selene drifted off. She put the stack aside. "Whatever. I still have time." Vampires decomposed a lot slower than humans. They were cold blooded, so their body temperature wasn't much of a factor, leaving the decomposing to slow down.

He nodded. "Yeah, right." He didn't know what to say next. What had happened to the Selene, who at the very mention of Leon's name, would run off and weep for hours on end? Who was this unemotional woman in her place? Would she ever leave?

Selene grabbed the stack again, pen in hand. "Navy blue, it was definitely navy blue," she muttered to herself.

He couldn't take it anymore. He reached out and grabbed her hand, making her look up at him. There was no emotion in her eyes as he stared into the soul of the woman he loved. The icy feel of her gaze sent a shiver down his spine. What happened to her? "What up with you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"Who's funeral are you planning?"

"Leon's." She said it with no emotion, no tears, nothing.

"Right – the first love of your life, the man who was your confidant until recently, when…?"

"When you killed him." Again, indifference, apathy.

Michael's jaw almost dropped open. "What's happened to you? Why aren't you—"

"—crying?" He nodded. She shrugged again nonchalantly. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters. I'd like to know why the love of my life has stop feeling, grieving!" He was raising his voice.

She gave him a look like he was being foolish.

"Look, I get what you're doing. You think it's easier just to stop feeling. To stop crying. But it's not. You have to grieve, Selene. You have to feel."

She rolled her eyes, and that pushed Michael over the edge.

"Why are you closing yourself off to me? Are you mad at me, is that it?"

"No," she answered flatly. "Not at all."

"Then what is it?"

She crossed her arms – not good, since that usually meant that someone was being defensive. Selene never crossed her arms in the 200 years Michael spent with her. "Nothing," she said simply.

He wouldn't accept that answer. "I don't buy that," he said. "And I know that it's hard for you to deal with this pain, but you're gonna have to."

She scoffed. Michael looked deep into her eyes, and saw that wall he had seen all those years ago in that subway station. The wall behind which Selene locked all of her emotions and thoughts.

"Fine," he said, giving up. "Be that way. Be the Ice Bitch everyone thinks you are," he commented, frustrated.

Selene looked at him, and he saw something flash in her eyes – hurt? pain? – and immediately regretted what he'd said. As quickly as that looked appeared, it disappeared, and the stoic, cold Selene came back. "I'm going out for a drive," she said. It was in a normal volume, but it was a hollow, empty statement.

"Selene," he said.

She ignored him. Was she blinking back tears, or was it just his imagination? "I'll have my cell if you need me." She picked up her bag and left.

Should I follow her? he asked himself. He thought better of it and watched her car leave from over the balcony.


Her gaze ice-cold and her scowl plain on her face, Selene drove her way into town. She wished she knew here she was going, but the truth was, she didn't care. She used to do this a lot before meeting Michael, just drive and drive until either the sun rose or until she got too tired to drive any further. Most people did it because it too their minds off of their problems; Selene did it to get her mind on her problems. Her car time was like her therapy time. It was quiet, and she was alone. What more could she want?

"Be the Ice Bitch everyone thinks you are," Michael had said at her. Selene swallowed hard. She didn't want to push Michael away, but she didn't want to feel the way she'd been feeling in the last week, either. Tears came to her eyes as she thought of Leon.

She pushed the thoughts away. It was navy blue… right?

Yes, it was. He had told her once, long ago. He had been picking out an outfit for some party that night that Kraven was throwing. She had helped, and when she picked a navy blue outfit, he had smiled, commenting that that was his favorite color.

Navy blue it is, then. Her throat threatened to close up as tears welled up in her eyes. Crying will do you no good, the Old Selene part of her mind scolded – the part that had taken over after Leon left all those years ago.

She had been a generally warm person before that even though her whole family had been slaughtered. Leon helped her cope with that. Now, who was there to help her cope? Michael?

He was the one who killed Leon, she thought.

Not his fault, another part of her mind responded.

She slammed the steering wheel in frustration. Her problems were too complex for a simple drive to the city to cure.

She pulled up to the curb, and wiped her tears. Suddenly, there was a rapping at her window.

She looked over and couldn't believe who it was. She rolled down her window.

Her voice raspy from getting so worked up in the car, she greeted, "Lucian."


A/N:

Here's the new story... I know that emotional, soft Selene's popular. Believe me, cold-blooded Selene won't be around for the whole story. I was trying to think of a way to make a new story after this one. I figured it out, and it requires Selene going back to her old, warm ways...

Anyway, I really hoped you enjoyed what I've gotten so far. Comments, advice, tips, and feedback, please!

Thanks for reading,

KATEB819