---

A successive triplicate shrill of the clock radio screamed to the right of the queen-sized bed. It served as little more than a reminder of time; he'd been awake for hours, lying in bed skimming through the channels on his bedroom television. The screaming alarm blotted out nearly every other word from the local news pundit reporting traffic and weather on the nines; as it was it made for an entertaining moment before the annoyance for the sound grew unbearable.

Moments from the start of the shrieking the young man resolved to smack the top of the clock radio in order to silence it until tomorrow. Red digits read seven in the morning as he stepped onto the cold hardwood floors and maneuvered out of the bedroom, through is living room and into the kitchen where he poured a near pint of coffee from the automated maker. Fixing the steaming cup of brown water into something worth ingesting, he returned to his bedroom and opened his closet.

As much as he was a creature of habit, the young man reached in for the clothing specially picked out for the interview appointment scheduled two hours from now. The slacks were a traditional black, straight legged type that fit him well enough to be unrestrictive and still appear professional to the casual observer. Sharp creases flowed down the center of both legs to a near dry-cleaned precision. All the while, greater care was taken to remove just the right shirt and tie, both in soft colors and subdued patterns that wouldn't distract. Closing his selection with a vest, deciding to leave behind the full jacket for impressions sake, he placed the garments down on his bed carefully and walked to the bathroom for his morning shower.

The door closed and the neglected television began competing to speak over the rushing water not far behind the paper-thin walls. All over the small two-bedroom apartment, silence was overtaken by the sound of dishes clanging together inside the sink, the roar of the vacuum cleaner, all sounding together erupting out from almost nowhere. Glowing green forms of women in the stereotypical clothing of the sort of French Maids one would expect in adult film work to remove the mess Kyle Rayner left behind from his momentary escape of the bedroom.

Stepping from the bathroom fifteen minutes after he first entered, the rooms fell silent again. The anchor woman's voice greeted him and he listened to the overnight happenings to be brought up to speed on current events. He sat on the perfectly made bed, sipping his coffee while watching in the mirror as his tie wove itself into a single Windsor knot as the laces of his shoes knotted themselves.

The full length mirror behind his door left a sight that satisfied him enough without having the kind of time to be picky. While his breakfast dishes dried and the vacuum rolled itself out of sight, Kyle walked across the apartment to the adjacent bedroom he called a studio. He chose the larger of the two rooms to hold all his supplies and equipment; even going as far to remove the closet door and turn it into a small computer station; John helped him with the designs and arranging the space to make for an efficient use, but Kyle enjoyed it more as a place that segregated technology from his easel and sculpting tables.

It also helped to keep paint off the perfectly good computer, something he'd managed to do a time or two before which had ruined more than his fair share of League equipment.

From the desk stuffed into the former walk-in closet Kyle grabbed his tablet computer and stuffed it into a small messenger bag with the leather-bound portfolio and slipped the nylon strap over his left shoulder, letting the bag hang just behind his right hip as the strap crossed his torso. The oversized cup of coffee was set down on the kitchen table he only used as a staging place for mail and keys, and Kyle stepped out of his front door into an enclosed hallway. The sound of the deadbolt and door chain echoed in the hall, despite leaving no one inside or bringing keys to do it himself. The stairs were only thirty paces ahead and, unlike the majority of people in a hurry, Kyle climbed the three floors to the roof.

Summer heat smacked Kyle in the face the moment he opened the roof access door. The asphalt and tar amplified the mild temperature of the day with the punishing heat of reflected sunlight. A quick scan with his eyes suggested he was alone; it was one of the reasons he chose to live in the building, the rules prohibiting rooftop access were fairly clear that only maintenance personnel be allowed to step foot. “Ring? Privacy check, please.”

The emerald ring shimmered but there was only silence everywhere but in the back of Kyle's mind. “There are no living persons within visual reference to your positions. All electronic devices have been temporarily disabled and wiped of virtual memory spanning seventeen minutes prior to your arrival to your present location.”

“Thank you,” Kyle said aloud and his thought gave a new command. A deep green light crawled over him like conducted voltage, overriding his fashionable taste with the green and black uniform of which his alter ego was known. A green mask covered the young man's face, but with only a quarter of his face hid behind the hard-light construct that protected his identity, it always seemed small; but after all these years with the League it had never failed him.

Kyle checked to make sure the bag was secure but second thoughts of his luck made him hesitate. The ring shined at his thoughts and he swiped his hand across the air in front of him and cut a small hole in dimensional space. Gently, he tucked the bag inside. “Ring, record location for instant retrieval.”

“Completed.”

The tear closed with a snap of his gloved fingers and Kyle was off in a dead sprint. He leapt off the ledge, feeling the wind rush by as he fell. Both arms were stretched out and after a single minute of adrenaline coursing into his veins, a sharp green force field outlined the Green Lantern's body and he twisted his body, pushing his form upward. Gravity fought a losing battle with the Green Lantern as he felt the tug of his planet as it fought, and failed, to keep him grounded. Several bystanders from below watched him move and cheered at the sight above them, but only the indiscernible roar of sound was able to reach Kyle. To give them something to cheer for he twisted his body in flight and turned to halt and hover, pointing the ring high into the sky and, for no other reason than to play to the crowd, fireworks exploded and even in the daylight brilliant shapes of green embers flashed in the sky and quickly died out. The cheers roared as, before any more time passed, he pushed off with his legs and took off.

A green streak pierced the lightly overcast sky and quickly faded into nothing as the Green Lantern vanished into the horizon. His cheerleaders quickly returned to their lives with at least a sighting to speak of to their friends.

High in the sky, Green Lantern jetted through the air with a marathon runners' ease, putting on a show as he twisted around building and looped around traffic lights. It was a quiet day, one of the rare times he could simply enjoy the ring's power and all it did for him.

Aerial acrobatics were not always his specialty; truth be told much of his early career with the ring Kyle was too often clumsy with flight. While he twisted around a small apartment building, a sanitized brick building with no character and only four stories, Kyle cork-screwed the base and climbed the small height and pushed himself high into the atmosphere just to let himself fall. He closed his eye and let his force field vanish so he could feel the cold wind force itself against his face and through his dark hair.

At times like this Kyle wouldn't allow even the scent of exhaust ruin his moment in the sun.

But his enjoyment was short lived as that familiar tug in the back of his mid fired back, “Collision eminent, lives at risk. Northwest, heading two hundred ninety two degrees.”

An exasperated sigh escaped his throat, the force field returned in a flash and the Green Lantern was quickly finished being playful. Like a laser shot into the sky, Kyle flew a direct path, commanding his ring to phase him through a building and, before he could see the danger, the desperate sound of a horn made it suddenly real. A tanker truck sped out of control, its driver pressing down on the horn, but without any break lights. Kyle knew the trouble was going to come sooner rather than later. “Ring, scan contents.”

“Transport vehicle carrying gasoline, seventy percent empty. Large quantities of explosive vapors present, all safety protocols have been exhausted. Significant threat to life.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don't know.”

The Green Lantern flew to speed ahead of the tanker truck; his window of opportunity was quickly closing as midday traffic was closing. His momentum carried him on the same heading of the truck and, as he turned to face the driver, Kyle willed his voice over the driver's radio speakers. “Keep the wheel straight, and we'll get through this!”

The drivers said something but Kyle cut the line to concentrate on the task at hand, and his ring sparked to life in response. His hands shone with the same energy that flowed around him and with a concentrated burse a flat stream of light bore itself into the street below and gradually lifted the truck above the traffic it threatened to destroy. The temporary road continued higher into the air as the vehicle’s momentum slowed to a halt. “Ah, Physics…you're not so useless after all,” the Green Lantern quipped at his handiwork.

With the truck stopped and its engine dead, the Green Lantern closed the light around the truck; a thinner line traced back to his ringed hand and took the shape of a thick nylon rope. Green Lantern took flight again, towing the tanker truck effortlessly behind him. Two miles passed under them and the Lantern set the truck down gently in the parking lot of a large repair station. An off-duty cop stood at the entrance, waiting for his squad car to be returned to him, and was taken aback as he saw the truck land only a few yards from him.

Kyle touched down, and with both feet firmly on the ground, “Ring, power check.”

“Ninety-two percent.”

Satisfied, Kyle turned to the cop, “Reckless driving; left my ticket book at home.” He shrugged and wore a smirk but without another word he was into the air, flying high again. Time was no longer on his side as he jaunted across the skyline as little more than a streak of light in the midday sky. He overshot the building he wanted by a block and a half and set himself down in an alley way that his ring reported safe. After he touched down, he slipped behind a office building, out of view of a small parking lot, and the Green Lantern identity faded away as Kyle Rayner reached into the same dimensional void, removing the items he needed from the pocket dimension where he usually kept his power battery.

Looking as he did as he left his apartment, Kyle walked the block and a half to the building he’d flown past moments before. He stepped inside and followed the directions he’d memorized, waving at the overweight blonde behind the reception desk and passing a row of mostly empty cubicles. He reached the rear of the hall, searching the numbers to the left of every door until he found the one he was searching for with the door already standing wide open. He stopped at the doorway and knocked lightly, grabbing the attention of the obese man sitting behind an aluminum desk.

The large man wore a thick beard, presumably a poor attempt to hide the multiple chins devouring his neck, and it was neatly kept out of a requirement in the office rather than any sort of fashionable desire to keep it trimmed, or at least Kyle assumed. The white shirt was dingy and stained just beside the breast pocket, a stain that he tried to hide by wearing a tie much too thick for the solid color shirt; but, all the same, Kyle attempted to keep his eyes on the man's face instead of his sloppy appearance.

He stood and offered his right hand and asked Kyle to close the door and take a seat. Pleasantries aside, the unkempt man spoke first, wanting not to waste any time between either of them. “My name is Gerry Anderson, and let's cut to the chase, shall we?”

“By all means, Mister Anderson.”

“Gerry, please,” he said with a softer smile than Kyle thought a Grizzly Adams lookalike might. “Our recruiters have been trying like hell to find a natural fit for you, advertising, web design, after school PSA posters, the works. They're honestly stumped, but people that don't like to take risks generally won't look at the unconventional avenues that we have available. You're a talented artist, Mister Rayner, but for some reason it seems the bulk of our clientele doesn't seem to fit much of your style.”

“Just Kyle, please; I'd say Mister Rayner is my father but I'm not 100% on that idea.” He smiled at his own humor. “But I don't understand…your assistant said something about work-for-hire conditions if I met with you as soon as possible.”

He nodded. “I have something in mind, one of our clients is looking for a little bailout, but it's not something a lot of artists take seriously unless it was previously their priority to begin with, catch my meaning?” He paused to search Kyle's face, unsure of what reaction he may get. “What do you think of comic books, Kyle?”

“I used to think they were great, when I was ten.”

Gerry laughed slightly. “Like I said, there are plenty of people trying to bust down the publisher's doors with their own ideas and dreams. What I need is something willing to play fill-in, a page here, five there. There's not a lot of choice of the things you'd be required to illustrate, you'll receive assignments as they come in, and unless someone requests you directly you'll be pulling from a pool of the other four artists we have working on this project.”

He ran the thought through his mind and a smile crawled over his face. “You know, I don't know why I never considered this type of work before.”

“Sometimes these off the wall ideas seem to make sense,” Gerry spoke with a nonchalant tone. “People love super heroes; I guess it’s the sort of fantasy that every little kid wants to be Superman or something.”

“You have no idea, actually.”

The recruiting supervisor ignored his ignorance of the irony and shuffled through the mess of paperwork scattered across his desk. “Right then, the going rate is thirty-five dollars per accepted page of work. Duties range from pencil illustration and inking. How comfortable are you with...”

An unnatural pause caused Kyle to look up from the employment documents and through Gerry's mouth he heard, “Kyle Rayner.”

His eyes shifted as confusion over took his mind. “I'm pretty comfortable with myself, actually. What are you asking?”

Gerry Anderson stared straight ahead with a glassed over gaze over his face, his eyes drained of all color and washed over white. “Green Lantern 2814.1, I am taking great effort to respect your confidentiality.”

The voice was very much still the pitch that Gerry had unique to his own vocal patterns but the manner of speech was only the cryptic sort that Kyle knew very well. “Neat trick, Ganthet. What can I do ya for?”

“Your colloquialisms are as interesting as always. I need to speak to you…it's of grave importance.”

Kyle looked at the wall behind Gerry; even the clock ceased moving as time itself stood still. “Okay, go for it.”

“Not like this. I need you to come to Mogo, quickly.”

Kyle nodded and continued to listen for any more that Ganthet had to say, quickly speeding over the employment forms and the tax documentation, scribbling his name and social security number in the plethora of papers necessary for Gerry Anderson to continue his job as time stood still under the Guardians' power. “What's all this about? I thought you wanted me to stick with this sector while John and Guy played with the Darkstars?”

“I cannot speak of this matter like this, too much is at stake. Please come as quickly as you can manage. Mogo's location has been downloaded into your ring.”

“...digital coloring?” Gerry returned to control over his own mind to complete the sentence he started before the Guardians' interference. However, he was immediately visually unwell, his hands shaking and his body swaying with a vertigo that invaded his brain. Gerry pushed himself away from the desk, unsure of the location of his wastebasket but stared at the ground hoping that it may stop spinning in the near future. “I'm sorry,” he gasped for air, trying to catch the wind he'd somehow lost. “I'm suddenly not feeling well. Perhaps...perhaps we can finish tomorrow?”

“But while you stepped out a few minutes ago you asked me to go ahead with these,” Kyle said, handing over the completed stack of employment forms, complete with all the pertinent copies of identification as he would be required, to a very perplexed Gerry. “Is there anything else you might need?”

Gerry stood against his desk, the vertigo holding him back from moving any further and turning his stomach in knots. “I apologize Kyle; I don't know what's come over me, but I think I need to find my way home for the rest of the day.”

“I just hope you're not contagious,” Kyle attempted to lighten the mood but no response came from the agency recruiter, and in turn he stepped toward the door. “We'll talk soon, but I hope you can get some rest and get well.”

Gerry nodded, it was all the effort he could muster, as Kyle closed the office door behind his exit. He could still make out the muffled sounds of violent heaving as Gerry relocated himself with the rotation of the planet. Kyle made haste out of the hall made from cubicles and stopped at the reception desk if only to warn the woman sitting there to look in on Gerry before he stepped out of the front door and began making his way down the same street as the one he walked before. His formal attire was not the suitable sort for running and, despite the level of fitness required by his membership in the League, his calves burned like fire as he sped slightly uphill. No one paid him a second glance as his dash took him down two blocks. He stopped at the last remaining construction site from the damage left behind by the Thunderer's random attack last month and ducked behind a shipping crate. “Ring, privacy check.”

Not three seconds went by before the ring tugged at his mind, “From this vantage, at normal human sight your identity remains safe. No meta-humans recorded in any trajectory to our position.”

“Good.” Kyle hadn't the time for creativity. Ganthet, the sole Guardian of the Universe left alive, rarely called to meet in person and wouldn't do so for the sake of idle chit chat. A brilliant flash of light flooded the immediate area and rid him of the civilian attire that he previously wore, replacing it with that same familiar look of the Green Lantern so many people knew. As the mask covered his face, Kyle took off into the sky straight like a rocket. Gravity tried once more to keep his feet grounded but just as he left the barrier of sound behind with a roar, gravity soon released its grip as well. The giant blue orb he called home dropped from notice as quickly as the Earth's terminal grip broke free and slung him into the black ocean between the stars.

From behind his force field, his voice held a slight echo, “Ring, take me to Mogo.”

The ring obeyed as it always had. The force field of green flowing around the man that had once been the sole surviving Green Lantern sped its motion; the heat became slightly uncomfortable but was not unbearable as the energy around him hastened. A blinding burse of green energy burst from the center of the speeding emerald cocoon, tearing into space-time and drinking the Green Lantern and a small area of debris left behind by long forgotten celestial events. Just beyond the orbit of Neptune, the gaping hole in space that Kyle created with only a thought and a small ring on his finger soon sealed itself as the Lantern vanished from any sight.

A bright white star burned in the death of black space as its planets held tight their orbits, six in all with more than enough moons and dwarfs to make for a crowded celestial neighborhood. Just outside the orbit of a red hued gas giant, space-time tore open in a wide storm of energy. Light flickered and streamed out from a small opening without any sound in the vacuum. White, blue and eventually deep emerald streaks of forked lightning announced their dominance over the small parts of dark energy and matter and tossing all manner of alien meteorites into the black expanse.

From the gaping hole and hurtling through the storm front, a thick and violently pulsating cocoon of energy flew into the planet’s pull. Inside his protective bubble, Kyle Rayner gritted his teeth as his body stretched and his shield adjusted to the fundamental force pulling against him. His human body, spared from the threat of being split apart, Kyle set his sights on the shimmering green beacon just in sight beyond a thin belt of orbiting asteroids and two planets about the size of Earth, if not slightly smaller.

He took flight, circling the red giant along its rotation, playing within its gravity spin. Conserving his own effort, Kyle gained speed and momentum by pushing himself alongside the Jupiter-like planet's rotation. Within a moment he had been able to gain enough speed to traverse the diameter of the planet, splitting the time it took in half with every consecutive spin.

Kyle felt it, despite his field taking the brunt force of inertial momentum his body pulled on itself as a exponential rollercoaster might and, just as the ring warned him of his physical limits, Kyle Rayner shot off into space, flung like a pellet out of a gravitational slingshot. His flight took him speeding into a belt of iron rocks and the ring took over, guiding and turning the Green Lantern in sharp angles, avoiding collisions and destroying great boulders of iron and graphite. Another planet came into view, a great clouded world of gray not unlike Venus but only half its size. Kyle used it much like the gas giant, spinning around the world for a quick boost of his momentum and shot off again like a rocket.

Within minutes – to his perception at least – the giant orb of shimmering green came into Kyle's sight. The unmistakable symbol of ever-moving light held in its place by the two foundational lines that made up the symbol of the Green Lantern Corps proudly displayed on Mogo's surface, its landscape perfectly shaped and carved to display the one aspect of vanity within the sentient planet and former Green Lantern. “Green Lantern Mogo, I'm coming into your orbit.”

“Greetings, Kyle Rayner of Earth. Alas, you may refer to me only as Mogo. Your gesture of respect is gleefully appreciative; however, it is only yourself and your two Earthling brethren that hold the distinction and honor.”

Kyle flew into Mogo's orbit, slowing himself by moving against the sentient planet's rotation until he was nearly halted, and said, “Once a Green Lantern, Mogo, always a Green Lantern in my book.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, though some may disagree. Ganthet awaits your audience at his citadel. It is a pleasure to see you again, Torchbearer.”

The human sighed; he’d hoped that name would have died the last time Guy Gardner gave him hell over it. He pushed away the small embarrassment of being singled out by the former planet-sized Green Lantern and flew into the burning atmosphere until it gave way to the sight of a calm blue sky with a soft breeze as he looked down onto a wide round clearing in the center of the perfectly shaped symbol of the Green Lantern Corps, which was actually carved from a rainforest. At its center, a series of small earthen mounds rose from the surface, hardly the sight of a hardened citadel holding the last of the Guardians of the Universe. His feet touched ground and, without his force field, Kyle felt the perfection of the weather Mogo provided but saw no one.

“Ganthet?” he called out, hearing no response. “Guy? John?”

None of the Darkstars or the being that put them together answered his call, at first. “My Torchbearer,” spoke that familiar deep tone that came from such a small physical body. Standing, or rather floating, at the mouth of the taller mound of earth and stone, Ganthet waited and watched as one of his few Green Lanterns approached. “Welcome, Green Lantern 2814.1.”

Though he pretended to put forth a show of happiness that his agent had arrived, Kyle saw something in Ganthet that weighed heavily on him, but Kyle let it go. It wasn't often the Guardian had a peaceful mind. “The decimal still sounds strange, you know?”

The tiny blue skinned Oan shrugged. “There are three of you now and it’s faster than speaking your name with your title. It would be disrespectful of me to ignore your identities, after all.”

“I'm not complaining; it's kinda nice not being the only one anymore.”

Kyle approached the Guardian and let his mask vanish as he shook the Oan's small hand. “To be fair, your Earth customs are also strange, but as welcome as always.”

Ganthet, standing nearly waist high to Kyle's six foot height and wearing his traditional red gown, the tiny man floated down and away from the mounds and Kyle followed him. They circled the clearing in an informal tour of what has slowly become the last Guardian's home station. “Grave things are afoot, Kyle.”

It wasn't unexpected; Kyle didn't think Ganthet wanted to speak to him and have a Green Lantern Corps and Darkstars cookout out, after all, but the familiarity was surprising…Ganthet rarely referred to him as anything but a Green Lantern, always keeping him at an arm’s distance. “The Universe is always in peril.” Kyle attempted to make light, but Ganthet was not moved.

“You're not wrong, but without my brothers here bearing this burden alone is trying to say the least. You have been a great help to me, Kyle, but it’s come to a time where I need to ask more of you than I have in the past.”

The human was silent, half expecting Ganthet to say more. “You know me, Ganthet, I'm your guy. Less literally than Gardner, but I digress.”

A small smile broke Ganthet's solemn face. “You humans give me so much hope for the future, despite all the adversaries you face and no matter the danger, you always remain yourselves. Some call it a weakness, an unwillingness to grow; but despite everything you face you conquer with an unbeatable stubbornness. The three of you inspire me, Kyle, but, if everything I've learned comes to pass, it will all be for naught.”

“All right, Ganthet, I'll bite. More rings? Sinestro? The Controllers making a big play? What's the trouble?”

With as much hesitation as he's ever taken in speaking his mind Ganthet paused. “I'm searching for all the players and I'm not certain they're all from one universe, but I wish it were as simple as those threats. Very old enemies are rising, Kyle, and they're coming upon us with eons of hate, but it’s the Reach I'm most concerned about. Our truce has become unenforceable without a Corps or the rest of my brothers. They prepare to act but I am not certain how long they have planned and conspired to rise against us, and much more than that I can only speculate.”

With the resolve Ganthet so admired of his chosen humans written on Kyle's face, he simply asked, “How can we help?”

“John and Garnder have their assignments, but I trust only you with this information if I fail in my search. As I have agents searching the different pieces of this puzzle, I need Earth protected, and the Reach are the subversive sort. I need your full effort without distraction…it's time we concentrated on the Corps, Kyle.”

“You want me out of the League, then?”

“I don't want you to cease your efforts to come to the aid of your planet and its people; please do not take this as the opposite.”

Kyle shrugged but the thought weighed heavy. “It makes sense, though; I only retain a membership out of some sort of tradition; I'll always feel like I'm at the kids table. If this has your attention, it should require mine, right?” Kyle's heart skipped a beat with the thought of separating his tie from the Justice League, and it caused him pause. “What do you need me to do?”

Ganthet looked up to the taller human, the man that carried the torch when no one else could and no one else would. “This is a burden you must bear on your own. The Reach will stop at nothing to destroy everything we hold dear when they act. You must be ready to stop them, because they will come for you, be without doubt. I will do all I can, but I cannot be everywhere.”

Kyle's throat suddenly ran dry as the realization stole the breath from his lungs. It was almost as though the sky grew gray with Kyle's mood as Mogo undoubtedly heard the news of Ganthet's great secret. The Guardian and the Green Lantern stood in silence as the other tried to find words to break the silence. For hours it seemed the two men had little to say. “If all this is so terrible, why not tell the others?”

Ganthet did not have a fast answer for his, not because he hadn’t the evidence to back up his position but, rather, the truth was difficult to admit. “Trust,” Ganthet spoke softly and looked down, not proud of the thing he was forced to say. “There are very few people in this Universe I can trust, and sometimes I wonder if you’re the only one that deserves it.”

“Damn.”

A heavy heart caused the human to sigh and Ganthet had to reply, “Dark days are coming, Kyle, if they’re not here already.”

---

Night fell on Manhattan nearly two hours before its Green Lantern returned to the Terrain skies. The ring remained quiet, not reporting any dangers or imminent threat to life as he left a momentary streak of green across the sky. Like a small comet that left behind a tail lighting the night sky, Kyle made a quick trek across town looking for something familiar.

He chose to land several blocks from his apartment and dropped in to place an order for pizza at one of the places he frequented often. Kyle grabbed the order to go and, after the customary thirty minute wait he left the establishment without a drink or a word said to anyone inside. He turned to walk due south, fourteen blocks opposite his home.

Kyle stoped at a row of Brownstone’s and sets his path on the fifth door from the edge of the street. He walked up the five steps and wrapped at the door of 1509, where a red-headed woman answered the door wearing night clothes and an ear-to-ear smile. “Hey, you!” She attempted to speak coyly, though her face betrayed the majority of her effort. “And you brought dinner. Aren't you the romantic, full of surprises?”

He smile was weaker than usual but he couldn't help being happy around her as her mood was infectious. Allison Chandler was the sort of woman that never existed in his realm when he was growing up, and even most of his adult life to date. No mistake about it, Kyle knew beautiful women, though none of them were the sort of women that were more than skin deep. He learned early on dating co-workers was a massive mistake, especially in his not-so public career.

“You know me, just the hopeless sort,” he returned her smile and walked inside with her invitation.

She took the pizza from him and gracefully glided into the kitchen, letting Kyle watch her from behind as she walked, and returned three minutes later with two glasses of red wine and a terrible impersonation of a British accent, “Not really the sort of drink meant for pizza…” she hopelessly lost her composure but continued nonetheless, “…but hey, we're the snobby art types, why not live the stereotype?”

Kyle let out a laugh and, with his own mocking tone, replied, “Yes, my dear, though I hope the vintage is as perfect as you.”

The couple managed to stroll into the living room, where a muted television showed the terrible taste in reality programming Allie loved to torture her over-worked mind at the end of a long day. Kyle usually groaned at the sight of the choice in programming, but he couldn’t escape the things he’d learned earlier in the day; it was amazing that he finally saw the point of dumbed-down idiocy, as it just freed his brain from the massive thoughts that weighed it down.

Allie surrendered both glasses and wrapped her arms wound him if only for a kiss. Her lips lingered on his before she pulled away to stare deep into his eyes. “Why does it always feel like you're millions of miles away when you're gone?”

---

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To Be Continued...

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