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Rose laughed, "Just say I'm your girl friend and you're using me for information in excange for dates."

Rose couldnt help but laugh as well, "Well, I was taking you out for a drink."

Evening sighed sadly and looked down, "It...happens..."

((That's the mystery. Songs, songs, songs, sgnos.))

Beans dreamed that he was ordering a sandwich at a quaint little deli at the edge of town. A field was out back, squabbling with chickens. A young, bright-eyed woman with the name tag that said, "Tiffany," took his order.

Then, Claire walked in. Beans expected her to come and sit down at his table, but she didn't. She didn't even glance at him. Beans found himself calling her name, rather loudly, rather urgently, but to no avail. She seemed to be unable to hear him.

Then Tiffany walked over with his plate - bread pastries stuffed with ginger spice and olives? - and a glass of wholesome chocolate milk, of all the oxymorons.

Then something bad came. Nothing physical, but the entire atmosphere seemed to be engulfed in a dark, decaying kind of air that was just disgusting. Four dark figures, invisible, without sound, but Beans knew they were there, waited out different windows each.

The comparative brightness outside gave them dark silhouettes, and indiscernible features.

One embodied the feeling of hopelessness. Cruel, despicable evil that would stop at nothing, would kill anyone, to get what he wanted. He, or she.

The second was a huge, intimidating presence. An unstoppable onslaught of fury and deranged violence. And more fury. Something inhuman about it, something rather ghostly. Like a malevolent spirit, intangible, insatiable, unstoppable?

The third was a small, hidden slight. Something that lurked within the shadows, slinking around and performing secret, forbidden arts in the midst of secrecy. It was an imp, and worse, but it was unknowable more than any of the others, for it symbolized treachery, it symbolized the worst that humankind could become. It was a synonym to the definition of the penultimate worst that was possible. The worst of what? The worst of evil doings.

The fourth was sly, as well, but not so hidden. It lurked out of plain sight, but was the sharpest of all blades - more dangerous in the fact that its blade, as sharp as a scalpel, unable to be detected, unable to be deterred, could wait for an eternity, for the right moment, with which to easily stab its victim in the back, without remorse, without repent, and without failure. And, it would do so again and again.

The detective awoke with a start, but did not sit up rapidly, simply breathing quickly in his bed. He was facing the wall, his glance looking right out a window. The dark sky was not yet touched by the pinkness that would signify morning. But it would soon be.

As he lay there, examining his dream, Beans wondered about what the dream signified. He could think of nothing, nothing about the queer non-reaction Claire had held for him, and nothing about the strange demons from an apparent alternate reality.

Something about... the third figure, in particular, piqued his interest, and he thought that there was some detail about it, some slight partial piece of information that would place his whole dream into the realm of enlightenment. Something about it, but he just couldn't place his finger on what had seemed so strange....

"Why was Angel there?" Anthony asked.

((They are significant. That is all I will say, you guys will just have to find out a little bit at a time as Beans does. I've been affected, I guess, by the Koontz novels I've been reading lately. An element of his mystery and style seems to have rubbed off on me. Well.. maybe not style, or maybe even mystery... you guys might be able to guess exactly how this thing will turn out, but maybe not. Ah, well... now, let's see, for Bubba and Jasmine, what demented dreams will they have? rofl twisted ))

Rose laughed, "He was holding a snake for his nabor. I actually was searching it out before you got me into this crap...It was kinda sweet how Tiffany stayed until he woke up."