Sorry for the long wait! Gah! School has crushed me! Lol. Sorry for the shorter chaps.. a little bit easier on me. Let me get my thanks out and a disclaimer, and another short little AN and the story will be up.

Thank you:

Padfootwhore: Thanks so much! I'm really glad you like it.

Lady Ladreniel: Thanks for reviewing all of the chapters! You know I can't give away plot points! You'll just have to keep reading.

Mo Cat: LOL! Glad you're still hooked.

kalika55: Still a little bit short chapters.. but dividing my ideas, it kinda works that way lol. Thanks for reviewing!

Dustytiger: More here!

gatorchick007: yeah I'm sure you had to! Post your story damnit!

Disclaimer: I don't own DLM. I do however own a graveling... actually I don't own one of them either, damn. Lol.

OK, that's it for now! Read! Don't forget to review! It doesn't take that long!

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The somewhat short drive to George's house had been an excruciatingly silent one for the both of them. George was still fuming about being stuck with another roommate. Scarlet seemed to be a bit too scared to talk. She was just starting to feel connected with George, and what little connection was there, she didn't want to lose.

George guided the classic car parallel to the curb and parked. She turned the car off, got out of her side, and stormed to the front door, leaving Scarlet alone in the car to deal with her belongings.

Scarlet gathered her luggage and silently followed George through the gate and up the stairs to the front door, which was left open by the older Reaper. Making her way through the front door, she closed the door with her foot and dropped her stuff on the wooden entryway. Scarlet spun slowly around, taking in her new and definitely different surroundings as her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the few lit lamps in the rooms.

The house was filled with old knick-knacks that seemed to be collecting dust for decades. Original paintings of the same old willow tree hung on the wall in the dining room. The house had a slight tinge of a musty fragrance, but it was comforting to Scarlet. It reminded her somewhat of her grandparent's house back in Chicago.

"So, you're bunking with us for a little bit, huh sweetie?" The question came from behind Scarlet and she spun around to see who was addressing her.

Daisy stood in the doorway to the living room, clad in a flattering silk bathrobe. The cross that dangled from her neck glittered in the light that she was standing in. A smile crossed her face and went all the way to her eyes.

"Uh, yeah I guess so." Scarlet warily replied. She didn't know if Daisy would react the same way George did to her moving in.

"Great. It'll be nice to have a new face around here. Georgia is such an angry little teenager. Welcome."

Scarlet smiled at the welcoming and looked around again. George was right, there didn't seem to be enough room for the three of them.

"Do you mind if you sleep on the couch?" Daisy addressed, clearly seeing Scarlet's wary expression. "There aren't enough beds." The younger girl nodded and Daisy motioned for her to follow into the living room.

"You can just put your things there. Bathroom is down the hall, kitchen across from here. Make yourself at home." Scarlet went back into the entryway to pick up her things and then entered her new living space.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to get started on my beauty sleep. Make yourself comfortable." Daisy patted her cheeks and then headed off to her own room. Little did she know, Scarlet had already done that exact thing.

Scarlet plopped down on the couch, pulled off her shoes without untying the laces and lifted her messenger bag over her head and placed it next to her. She then pulled out a wooden box and placed it on the table along with the novel she had been reading earlier. Shrugging out of her coat, she lay down on the lumpy couch and stared at the ceiling.

A few hours later, the teenage Reaper had still not fallen asleep and she had already counted sheep, "zs" and the dirt speckles on the ceiling. Groaning, she sat up and grabbed her book off of the table. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, she opened her book and began to read when a creaking of floorboards directed her attention. Footsteps continued and turned into the living room. George stopped short when she saw that Scarlet was awake.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. I didn't know you were still up. Sorry." George began backing away towards her room when Scarlet held out a hand and waved her over.

"Don't worry about it. I couldn't sleep anyway." She smiled at her older counterpart. "What were you doing up anyway?"

"Well, actually I wanted to watch some TV. I couldn't sleep either." George replied. Scarlet nodded in comprehension. George walked over to her and sat at the opposite end of the couch as Scarlet pulled her feet towards her. The blond reaper seemed a bit uncomfortable and looked around the room idly, trying not to show it. Her gaze dropped on the wooden box that was sitting on the table in front of her. Scarlet had turned back to her book, instead of starting a conversation, so George picked up the box and opened it.

The top flipped open, bouncing on its hinges as George stared at the contents. Bundles of bright yellow post-its were packed inside, all with the same scribbled hand writing on them. All having the same general information on them. First initial, last name, location and EDT. Scarlet glanced up and took a double take when she saw George; open eyed, staring at the contents. The younger girl immediately blushed as George looked up at her.

"What the..." George trailed off.

"Post-its I've had since I died." Scarlet explained. George nodded in reply. "I'm such a pack-rat. I just kind of started putting them in my pocket after a reap and taking them home. And then just got into the habit of keeping them."

George started understanding after the explanation. Betty had done the same thing, except she took Polaroids of her reaps and categorized them. George began looking through the posts and found one at the very bottom. It was crumpled and the ink was smudged and faded.

S. Matthews

ETD: 7:09 PM

I-55 Highway Army Trail Rd. Exit Ramp

George read the familiar post-it information. She couldn't really make out some of the words, so holding it up to the light, she finished it. When she moved the post-it in front of the lamp next to the couch, the light shined through, illuminating scratchy writing on the back.

DOD: March 9, 2002

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TBC.

All my faithful readers! Review! Please! Lol. That's all I have to say. Nothing wrong with some shameless begging! Lol.

Forever and Always, Happy Thoughts.

-Pendragon4