I want to thank you all so much for being so nice. Your reviews and the alerts I have received were very encouraging. I hope you enjoy this one and that you don't mind if I "speculate" on certain events that haven't been revealed yet. Thanks so much! *hugs*

Chapter Two

It was a reoccurring dream Liz had often.

In her dream, everything was so vivid and real. This time, there was a fire. Flames blazed up and she could smell petrol.

She was sitting on a chair, her hands bound together tightly with rope. Someone was still in the room with her, and she could hear their footsteps from behind her. He moved to her side and she didn't know him at all. He was tall, and his eyes were cold and ruthless as they looked down at her. She struggled to get her wrists free, and the man just laughed.

He went around her and untied one of her hands, pulling it towards the flames. The harsh heat touched her fingers and she whimpered.

"It's goodbye now, Elizabeth."

It took only a moment before the flames touched her. She screamed and writhed in agony and terror. And then a man appeared from behind him, and a knife slit through the middle of his throat.

"Babe! Liz!" She came awake sporadically, and tried to focus on Tom's face in the darkness of the bedroom. She could only just make out his round face in the shadows. "Liz, you were having another one of your dreams again."

"God, I'm sorry," she said breathlessly, reaching up to sit her hands on her forehead. She was sweating profusely, and her face felt overheated and flushed. "I wish it would stop. I don't know why I keep having them."

"Was it a nightmare?" Tom asked, with some concern.

Liz hadn't fully explained in great length to her boyfriend about what the dreams consisted of. She couldn't figure them out herself. "Yes, you could say it was a nightmare," she admitted reluctantly, staring up at him. "I keep having the same dream over and over."

Tom reached over to flick on the lamp that was standing on their bedside table. It took a moment for Liz's eyes to readjust to the harsh bright glow, and she groaned loudly. "You know you can talk to me about it, right?"

She nodded, forcing a smile. "I know, babe. It means so much to me to know that."

She hadn't wanted to tell Tom anything of what her nightmares contained, and she wanted to keep it that way. She didn't want to let him into any of her baggage from her childhood. The scar she had on her wrist- he had asked about it on their first date together. Liz had simply lied and said it was an accident; something done when she opened a can and got her wrist sliced on the lid. He seemed to have believed her then just fine.

She looked at her boyfriend's face more carefully as he turned on his side, propped up on an elbow against his pillow, peering down at her. His lip was shining wet with blood.

"What happened to your mouth?"

"You hit me."

"I did not," she laughed. She couldn't remember hitting him at all.

"You did, babe," he insisted seriously. "You were thrashing and kicking around under the sheets like a monkey. Your limbs were going everywhere, and you reached over and hit me."

She frowned, realizing he was being sincere. It made her feel terrible. "God, I'm so sorry. When I dream, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Obviously."

She threw the covers off her body and jumped out of bed to find a washcloth. When she returned, she found Tom grinning at her. She climbed over him on the bed and started dabbing carefully at his split lip.

"What's so funny? I just hit you. You're not supposed to be smiling, babe."

"Well, you're lucky I adore you that much that I don't mind you lashing out on me every once in a while," he said charmingly. "Others would probably consider it abuse. You should count yourself lucky you have a great guy like me in your life who puts up with everything."

Liz made a soft moan in agreement. She was very thankful for Tom being in her life, despite his unpredictable moods.

"Don't worry, I know how lucky I am," she said honestly, tossing the washcloth on the floor near the bed. She leaned on her side against the pillows. "And now that we're both awake..."

"Now that we're both awake- what?"

A ridiculous blush spread across her cheeks. "I think you know what I'm saying."

Tom smiled and pushed her back against the pillows, climbing over her. "Oh, I think I can work it out."

Afterwards, with Tom resting his head on her stomach, Liz dozed soundless and serenely. She didn't have anymore nightmares for the rest of the night.

Liz was still asleep when Tom woke the next morning after the alarm clock on the bedside table went off at his set time of 6.30. He slid out of the covers and reached down for his socks that were lying on the ground, slipping them on.

Somehow sensing him awake or perhaps hearing his movements, Liz mumbled softly in the pillow, "Do you mind feeding Hudson in case I forget before I leave, babe?"

"I'm already on it," Tom assured her while he slipped on a pair of jeans, sighing inwardly.

He was never a fan of dogs, or any animals. They tended to dislike him. Maybe they could somehow sense there was something off inside his head. Lizzie never could.

Once he was dressed he fixed himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen and ignored Hudson while the dog whimpered and whined near him. He tried to ignore the puppy, best he could, while he crunched on his cereal, but the mutt wouldn't seem to quit it. Letting his spoon fall loudly against the side of his bowl, he got to his feet and approached the puppy, who backed up away from him, obviously nervous and scared.

Tom reached down, scruffed the dog around his neck carelessly like a mom cat does to her kittens, and held him in the air. He had a malicious thought of taking the dog outside and letting it roam and, hopefully, it would get lost and never return. But then he thought of Lizzie and knew she would be too distraught over that, so with a sigh through his nostrils, he did the right thing, put the dog back on the floor, and went over to the kitchen cupboard to fix him up some dog food.

While Hudson was preoccupied with eating, he went into the living room. He turned on the television, muted it with the remote, and found his secret stash from where he hid it from Liz. He opened the box, took out his .22 pistol and admired it. Clasping his hands over the handle of the gun, he pointed it at the television, pretending to hear it going off with a glorious bang.

Someday, he would get the chance to use it. Hopefully that day wouldn't be too distant in the future.

He heard Liz's shoes clomping down the stairs and with a surge of panic, he quickly dropped the gun back into the box and covered it back over. He turned the volume back on the television and pretended to be interested. The voices on the television were just distant, incomprehensible noises to him.

"What's going on with the news?" Liz asked from inside the kitchen and for a moment, Tom didn't know what to say.

"Oh, same old stuff," he managed to lie quickly.

"You know, you never told me whereabouts it was that you scored the internship?"

"They haven't exactly said yet, Liz," he told her. "They'll probably decide in a week or so, I guess."

"Thanks for feeding Hudson too, babe," she returned loudly.

"Yeah, no problem." Tom was mostly relieved he had full control over himself. "Liz, I've got to get going early," he lied, getting to his feet. He went into the kitchen and found Liz nibbling on buttered toast over the sink, while watching Hudson. The mutt had already finished his food and was watching her eagerly. "I'll see you later, alright?"

"Um, okay."

"Oh, and you might want to take Hudson outside. He hasn't done his business yet."

"Yep, I'm already on it," Liz said happily.

He kissed her lingeringly on her cheek and Liz watched him as he rushed around, gathering his things. He waved at her before almost running out the front door and she stared after him, puzzled.

Usually he never left so early and he seemed almost not really there, as if he had something weighing on his mind.

Bending down, she gave Hudson the rest of her toast, which he tugged at and ate down quickly. And then just only remembering her boyfriend's words about him not having done his business yet, she grabbed him carefully and carried him out towards the front door.

"Hold on, buddy," she told him desperately, struggling to open the door with her hands full.

Once she managed to shoulder it open, she stepped outside. Almost colliding into a man who was standing on her doorstep. He was handsome, dark, broad-shouldered and tall, dressed in a black suit that reminded her of a bouncer or a bodyguard, and he had a bouquet of red roses in his left hand. He looked stunned at the sight of her, the whites of his eyes sticking out against his hazel brown pupils, and it seemed he almost wanted to back away from her and run.

"Can I help you?" she asked, while Hudson made an excited noise and attempted to paw his way out of her arms so he could attack the man by jumping all over him.

The man was gaping at her strangely and it seemed he didn't know what to say in response to her question. Was she not meant to be home while the delivery was made?

"Uh, Miss. Scott?" His voice was smooth, rich, and slightly accented.

"Yep, I'm Miss. Scott. Who are you?"

"These are for you," he said, stooping down to place the roses on the doorstep near her feet.

Before she could open her mouth to ask who from exactly, the man turned and started walking briskly down the street. She stared after him, eyes boring into the back of his hairless scalp, and he never looked back at her once.

"Wait!" she called helplessly from where she stood, "Who are you? Who sent me these?" But when he disappeared from her sight, it was too late.

a/n: Who brought Liz roses and who was the man delivering them?! Maybe she has a secret admirer ;) I hope this wasn't bad. Feel free to let me know. x