A/N: Okay, I'm not sure how exactly this is going to turn out, but I hope it's good. ^_^;; This is the rewrite of Burn That Bridge When We Come To It, in case you didn't know. I became disillusioned with Bridge's intense Mary-Sue qualities, and while I'll still write it if I get in the mood, consider it on hold indefinitely. I want to try to make this better, have an actual plot (I actually have plans for this!), and not so obvious that I'm not that great of a writer.

Disclaimer: Unless I get creative, this is the only disclaimer you get. ^_^;; I do not own the boys, nor do I really own the girls, except for Kitten. She's mine, and this idea is (hopefully) mine. ^_^;; I'm still working on that one.

Promises Aren't Necessary

Prologue

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"Hope is the denial of reality. It is the carrot dangled before the draft horse to keep him plodding along in a vain attempt to reach it."~Raistlin, Dragons of Autumn Twilight

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The sign in the window identified the place at The Lookout. The sharp scent of the waterfront drifted through the door despite the fact that it was always closed no matter what the season. Dark curtains covered the windows-most of the clientele would not want it to be known they frequented the pace. The hours were five to five, though if one looked out the windows during operating hours, daylight was not a common sight. This establishment catered to those who favored the dark hours.

One thing that made The Lookout unique was its bartender. It wasn't that the bartender was bad at the job. Rather, it was the face that she was a hard-faced girl of seventeen with bright blue eyes that could dance with laughter or swirl with anger. Her often-fiery tongue as well as her occupation earned her the nickname Brandy from the patrons.

Only one other girl worked in the establishment. For reasons she could not grasp, this small blonde was given the nickname Kitten. She really seemed too young to work in a place frequented by such jaded individuals, but at the same time they enjoyed her innocent manner. She was the only waitress, and knew all of her customers by alias if not name.

Some of their customers, after having a few drinks and maybe some food, would head down the street. There, at a house of ill repute, some would call on a girl said to be so skilled at her profession that the fires of passion and lust would consume her customers. This girl, small and blonde with dark brown eyes, knew of her skill and, while not exactly proud of it, had found that it would pay the bills. A brief chat with some of the others in the house caused her to adopt the name Pyro.

Breaking daylight would call these sated men back to the streets; back to work, to home even. Two figures on opposite corners would try to get a sale out of these men, just a penny a pape. The female of the pair often pulled up her brown hair and wheedled with the customers, pulling out her feminine charm. The male of the pair often glanced at his companion, though he would never admit it was out of worry. Though this section of town was on the very edge of his territory, he humored his partner by selling there with her. They called her Feather, for the way she moved about the streets and slums was like that of a feather brushing the surface of one's skin.

There is one last stop these men might make. O'Grady's Livery often survived on the revenue these depraved souls brought in, as much as it disgusted the stable girl. Though she was barely paid, or even recognized for the work she accomplished, she continued with her job because of her love of horses. The strawberry blonde/redhead often spent her time in the stables with her head in the clouds. She answered most often to Stars.

Within each of these individuals existed at the same time hope and a denial of hope. Their lives depended on their work and their work depended on their lives. Love in any form was rare, and friendship a precious commodity.

This is not to say that they were lonely; rather let us say that life had made then jaded and only a precious few understood their positions. Take this scene of five jaded young women working for their livings.

Enter Fate and his good pal Karma.

End Prologue