A/N- OK, I'm trying this out. I was inspired to write this because finally put up a DLM category! Yay for all the DLM fans out there. Please bare with me here. I'm planning on writing more... I believe once I put this up, I'll have a 2nd chapter written, so if you still want to read it, review, because I can't read your minds! Even if I get at least one review, I'll keep going because I want to try this out. It may sound cliché and mary-suish, but just try it on for size!

Disclaimer- Ok, I don't own DLM or any of the Characters or anything else... they belong to MGM. Damn it. Oh, and I've got a bit of a key at the bottom of this A/N. Just so you know... This chapter won't be in George's POV, but I may rewrite it if not, later chapters will be in her POV, or you will know what she is thinking. If that is confusing, tell me. OK, I think I've got everything covered... enjoy!

= George VO

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Most people try and plan out their days, every hour, and every minute. Most people try and live by their schedules and don't stray from the path. That path is worn from walking it every single day. But sometimes there's a bump in that path, a detour and that's when you know fate is fucking with you again. Today was one of those damn days.

The bell over the door to the Waffle House rang its merry jingle. It rang that jingle no matter what, whenever someone came in. Four adults sat at their usual booth, eating their usual breakfasts. One was dressed in a police uniform, another in a beautiful skirt and dress shirt. The first looked tough, like she could kick anyone's ass, no matter what, her name was Roxy. The latter woman seemed a bit softer, she had seen a lot through her days, although she hadn't seen a lot of days by the look of her, her name was Daisy. The two other adults were men, one looked about twenty- five, Mason, and the other could have passed for his father if needed. All four of them looked up when the bell rang. There was something in the air that day other than the rain. Something different.

A girl's entrance was announced by the bell. She was struggling to carry a guitar case, a duffle bag and a messenger pack that was strapped across her chest. She couldn't have been older than driving age. Her brown hair was tied in a messy bun, frizzed by the rainfall. She had glasses on, but they were slipping down her face through out her battle with her luggage. Her clothing was casual; jeans that looked a bit big for her frame, a crimson shirt covered by a lengthy leather jacket. The soles of her sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floor of the waffle house. She threw her guitar and duffle bag unceremoniously into a booth and sat in the seat across from her belongings. Avoiding eye contact with everyone, she pulled a thick novel out of the messenger bag and began reading.

The bell rang again, catching the adult's attentions. It was a friend of theirs entering now. She was a bit on the shorter side with blonde hair that was pulled back in a half-pony tail. She was dressed in a black skirt and white dress shirt. She walked past the previous girl without interest and sat down with the four older adults.

"Morning." George greeted, but her hello was basically ignored. "Hello! I'm dead not invisible, thank you!"

"Oh, sorry honey!" Daisy replied. "I didn't hear you." The other adults dragged their glances back to their own breakfasts after George's shout.

"Obviously. What got your attention so early in the morning?" George inquired, a little put off.

"Nothing, Peanut." The older man next to her replied. His name was Rube, the "leader" of their little group. "Ok, post-its! One, two, three, and four." He continued, handing one post-it to each reaper. Reapers, that's what they were. Grim reapers to be exact. They took people's souls before they died. Simple as that.

"Damn it, Rube! This is in twenty minutes! I don't even get enough time to eat a fucking meal around here." George complained.

"Well, peanut, you should have gotten up sooner. Here have my fruit before you go." Rube replied to her complaints.

"I thought you said I could have your fruit!" Mason said dejected.

"Do you have to leave in five minutes? No. I didn't think so. Here, have my damn bacon if you're so hungry." Rube pushed the plate of extra crispy bacon towards Mason, who eyed it warily.

"What's wrong with it?"

"What the hell do you mean 'What's wrong with it?'? Nothing's wrong with it."

"No, there has to be something wrong with it. You never give up your bacon. Is he sick?" Mason directed the last question to Roxy.

"Are you sick?" She asked Rube. "You don't seem yourself today, man."

"I'm fine. While you finish up would you all excuse me?" George slid out from her seat to let Rube by and then sat back down again in his place. She plucked her favorite fruit out of his bowl and watched him walk across the restaurant, his trip followed by another three pairs of eyes with George's, and sat across from the teenage girl sitting in the booth by herself.

She looked up, a surprised expression splashed across her face. None of the reapers could hear what was being said between the two, but apparently what ever Rube was saying, it was calming enough that the girl talked with him. They talked for a few more minutes and then Rube stood up and shook the girl's hand. She went back to reading her book and he walked back to the group.

"Rube, who the hell is that?" George asked impatiently. The rest of the group had the look in their eyes that asked that same exact question.

"That, peanut, is someone you will meet later." Rube replied quietly.

"Rube, don't be a dickweed," George growled in reply to his calmness. "Just tell us."

"Don't you all have appointments to be going to?" Everyone looked quickly to their post-its and then to their watches and several creative curses sprouted from their lips as they all threw down their share of money for the tab and rushed out of the Waffle House. Their curiosity didn't end with Rube's observation, however, and they all glanced at the teenager while leaving. The bell jingled their departure and the girl looked up from her book, making eye contact with Rube, as if to ask what their problems were.

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TBC. Well you've apparently read the story if you're reading this, so review if you liked it, even if you didn't. Tell me if you want me to continue! I'll write a 2nd chapter and post it if you do. Alright, go ahead make your decisions! Thanks for reading this.

-Pendragon4