A/N: Ah, so nice to know that the SxL fans are ever faithful and true. My love goes out to each of you!

So for the last week or so, I've taken another break to rest my hands, as the pain seems to worsen every few days, but I'm hopefully going to get some help soon. I'm tired of having to stop myself from writing when so many ideas are floating around inside just begging to be written. Fortunately, I still have some SxL pieces stored up just for you guys, including this one that I've been wanting to do for quite a while. I didn't quite get what I wanted, but I'm satisfied with it. I hope you guys like it!

Dedication: To those that are hoping just as I am that this carpal tunnel will get better. You guys are so awesome to me!

Intoxicated

She stared into the empty glass, her pale reflection staring back at her so that she could see her disappointed expression. She had been here for what seemed like hours, downing every glass of liquor she could think of, and still she felt no different. Even the hardest brand didn't make her twinge a bit, no sense of feeling out of the ordinary noticeable in her actions, except that she was getting more and more frustrated. The barkeeper was shocked, too, having given her several glasses of his best stock, and she didn't even look like she had taken one drink. Thus, he continued to give her what she asked for, since she didn't seem at all what she was intending to be.

As she nearly slammed the glass down, she glared at the barkeeper, a look of intensifying disgruntlement burning in the emotionless gems. "Please tell me you have something better..."

Though growing slightly wary of her rising temper, he nodded and snatched the last bottle he had on the shelf that he hadn't touched that night. In fact, he hadn't touched it in years, because all of his normal customers never even thought to try the stuff it was that potent and difficult to swallow. However, he had a feeling this wouldn't do the trick either, so he poured her a shot glass full of the amber liquid and passed it over to her.

With wonderous eyes, he watched her down it with ease, and again she didn't even flinch. He wasn't too surprised at this point, but he was more so afraid of the dangerous look in her eyes, backing away slowly from her steadily rising frame. "Miss, I-I think you're done for the night." he said nervously, preparing for the worst.

She didn't move as she glared at him, daggers ready to snap out at him at any given moment. This was so frustrating - she couldn't even get drunk if she wanted to! Such was the price she had to pay for being practically immortal. Yes, she had the normal components and features of a human body, but since she fed off of only the power of the Red Stone, nothing else of the physical world affected her.

But this angered her greatly. Ever since she first encountered Lejon, she had been experiencing the memories of her former self, and they were starting to haunt her continuously. They pained her in the same way that a bullet inflicts physical damage to a normal person, only these could not kill her. They just keep stinging, biting and digging underneath her soulless shell, pushing around inside until they were comfortably nestled inside her mind, never to leave.

So this had brought her to the tavern that night, sick and tired of the images that would flash before her every two seconds. After what seemed like hours, nothing even made her dizzy. Even her vision didn't blur in the slightest, and she was irate beyond imagining, ready to kill if anyone even got close to her.

The barkeeper was still cowering awat from her, wondering why she was lingering in his tavern when they both clearly knew she was done for the night. Feeling a little braver, he spoke. "Miss, did you not hear me? I believe you've had a drink of everything I have, so maybe you should be on your - ?"

Before he could finish his sentence, her claws had extended and she had him trapped between two razor sharp nails for walls. "I heard what you said the first time." she said darkly, bringing her claws further inward to tease his exposed neck. "If you value your life, don't say another word."

With the sweat beading on his brow, he barely managed a nod and she pulled back her claws, stealing another glare at the other casual drinkers in the tavern. Most didn't even dare to look her way, burying their heads in whatever they were doing. And those that were brave enough to maintain eye contact were given a deadly look, her mauve eyes now appearing blood red in the dim light.

Once she was done taunting her prey, she stomped out of the tavern into the night air, ignoring entirely where she was going. She didn't care, just as long as she could do something to get away from these nightmares for memories. Image after image after image - she couldn't take it anymore! With a growl, she didn't notice that she was heading straight into a tall man that was wandering the streets that night as well. After marching right into him, she turned her eyes up and glared maliciously.

"Out of my way!" she hissed, stopping suddenly when she saw his eyes. They were a familiar scarlet red, and held the same amount of bitterness hers did, only these were harder and more dangerous looking. Backing away as she scowled, she turned to walk the opposite direction, but she could tell that he hadn't moved. Why? Did he recognize her, or was it the other way around? She stopped again, back facing him as she pondered these thoughts for a few moments.

Now that she thought about it, something about him did seem familiar. His red eyes reminded her of another's from long ago, piercing in the way they glowed at night, and yet they were gentle somehow. She couldn't guarantee that they could be the latter, of course, because of the way they darkened considerably when he saw her, as if in pure confusion or anger. This made her curious and she about-faced, looking straight at his unmoved form.

"You look familiar." she said simply, studying him again. He had dark skin, too, and curiously white and gray hair, something that intrigued her, especially when he still appeared so young. Surely he couldn't be so old already...

He gave her something of an inquisitive look, but remained stoic. "Judging from where you came, I would say everyone looks familiar to you."

Before she had a chance to insult him back, he had turned away from her and walked off, leaving her alone in the empty street to contemplate his words. In a way they were rather humorous, but like her, he seemed to have a dry sense of humor as well. However, the words didn't insult her, either. Maybe they were a hinted compliment? Perhaps even words to say "I remember you"? It was all something she couldn't sort out, and yet she knew she had seen his face. She recognized it - memorized it. He was someone she apparently never intended to fully forget, and though that concerned her subconcious mind, she tucked it away with a small smile.

However, if he really was someone she had never met before, perhaps she was intoxicated after all.

A/N: I guess I was trying to hint that this is before they encounter one another in the Library, so I hope you caught that. If you liked it, leave a review, if you didn't and just feel like flaming, be ye put out and leave. Later!

47th Light