Below, the streets were full of cars, the sidewalks crowded with people. Random no-names walking unseen paths toward unknown destinations. Some led to ends in this reality. Some led to ends in the final reality.

Above them, John Constantine watched.

He was watching out the shuttered windows that ran the length of his apartment, the same one he'd occupied over the bowling alley for going on seven years now. Methodically he smoothed out the sleeves of his white dress shirt, buttoning the cuffs around his wrists. He always dressed in a white shirt, black dress pants, black tie, and black dress shoes. His black trench coat was the finishing touch on the package. That particular item was hanging on its proper hook by the front door.

He checked his watch, took a final peek out though the wooden slats and turned.

The front door unlocked and opened.

Through the doorway stepped a woman, dressed in a conservative black suit jacket and skirt set, in a fine silk blend. The low shirt under the jacket was cream-colored, decorated with lace along its edges. Sheer nylons and black heels set off her legs. Her hair, which was a striking mandarin orange color, was pulled up into a perfect French twist, held with a large ivory comb studded with rhinestones. She dropped her keys onto the small wooden table placed there to catch necessary items, turned and ran her fingers over the markings carved in the door frame. They glimmered in recognition then returned to their normal state.

"Honey I'm home." Elizabeth smirked. She started to take her suit jacket off.

"Don't." John waved a hand, stepping toward her.

"Oh, you are home." Elizabeth hadn't figured John would be; usually when she got off work, he was still out on the streets, finishing business. He stopped before her, kissing her hard. She blinked in surprise then kissed back. Constantine won out, getting her to moan softly.

"Leave it on. I've got reservations for dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yes. Happy Anniversary, baby." He grinned.

Elizabeth smirked. "That was last week you know."

"The thirteenth."

"And we did have a small celebration."

"Ride me again soon, will you?" John kissed along her jaw, small teasing pecks. He felt her shiver and grinned again.

"I can't tonight. The appointment is in an hour."

"Appointment?"

Elizabeth sighed and stepped past him. "You didn't look at the calendar, did you?"

"Of course I did."

"I'm not talking about the occult calendar." Elizabeth stepped over to the small kitchen space, picking up the tear-off-the-date calendar she'd given John for Christmas. "Did you even tear off the page?" A rip and the date advanced. "Oh good grief, John!" Several dozen rips followed, until the calendar reflected the proper day. A big red circle was around the numbers at the left corner, with the time written in. "Why did I even bother?"

"If it had been a useful calendar, maybe told me a joke or some totally worthless trivia, I'd have noticed…" Constantine grumbled. "I like those Far Side comic ones."

Elizabeth gave him a look.

"Fine, fine!" John held up his hands. "What appointment?"

"Dago's flown in to ink the tattoos." John watched her; this was a big moment. Everything she'd studied for in the last twelve months was going to conclude tonight. He hadn't really forgotten. It was more a case of selective memory on his part. John wasn't ready for her to move past the study and practice and into the real jobs. It had cost more then one life before, Chaz having been the most recent.

"Sorry." To Elizabeth he could apologize and mean it. She set the calendar on the counter, returning back to him and putting her arms around him tightly. She kissed his chest, nuzzling her face into the fabric of his shirt.

"I want to, really. And I'm touched you wanted to do something. I know, we never seem to have the time or be together long enough other then sleeping…"

"Even then only one of us gets the sleep." Constantine interjected, snorting. Elizabeth nodded.

"I need to finish this, John."

"I understand. It's fine. It's my fault I didn't remember." He stroked her hair, pulling the comb out and letting it cascade free. She'd let it grow; it reached the middle of her back now. "I'll make you dinner here."

"Will it be edible?"

"A guy burns macaroni and cheese just once…"

"John, I had to throw the pot out. I couldn't scrape it off. It was like you were trying to melt the metal into the cheese. Stainless steel isn't a condiment!"

Constantine made an exaggerated sigh, hands in the air "I bought you a new pot!" Elizabeth giggled, straightening his tie.

"I just want to get out of these clothes, take a bath, and relax. That can be my present."

"Oh, so you have such simple tastes now? Then why do you keep driving me past Rodeo, slowing when we pass Harry Winston?" he grinned wickedly, hands slowly peeling the suit jacket back.

"Maybe trying to get a hint through your thick skull." She grinned back. John got the jacket off, dropped it over the back of a kitchen chair.

"Are you getting my hints now?" he slowly rubbed her arms with the back of his knuckles. Ran a fingertip along the grooves of the boar tusk bracelets that curled around her arm, were fused to her skin.

"Uh huh."

"And?"

Standing on tiptoe, Elizabeth kissed him in that horrible teasing way she had. Constantine felt the excitement travel from his lips, down his spine, directly to the target. She knew him, and it drove him mad!

"I'll eat after." She breathed the words against his mouth then walked off into the bathroom. John was left hanging. He blinked, trying to clear the haze his arousal had caused. The familiar sounds of the pipes rattling as she turned on the taps; he heard the tub begin to fill.

For a minute he thought maybe she was sending signals that she wanted to be followed. A long moment passed and he could hear the sounds as she slipped into the water. Constantine picked up her jacket and hung it properly over the back of the chair so the silk wouldn't wrinkle. Reaching up to the highest shelf, he brought down the bottle of wine he'd been saving for the right occasion.

The knot in his tie came loose easily and slid free from around his neck. His fingers deftly undid the buttons on his cuffs then moved to undoing the buttons that ran the front of his shirt. Un-tucking the shirt, he pulled it off, draped it neatly on the chair as well. Next he unbuckled the belt, laid that over the shirt, and unzipped his pants. Crouching down he undid the laces on his shoes and kicked them off.

Constantine paused, listening. He couldn't hear any movements in the bathroom. He finished kicking off his right shoe, pulled the black socks off, let the pants drop.

"Happy Anniversary to us." He muttered, uncorking the wine bottle as he strolled into the bathroom.