*1939, September 14th - London, England*

     Calliope and Casey were now sitting in a booth within the pub. It had been hours since he came to her rescue, and within that short time. She had gotten to know him, on a basic level, nothing too deep. Keeping the conversation on him, and only gave small details about herself.

"Why join the army?" Calliope treaded to that conversation that might be a sore subject with certain people.

"To serve my country," he was quick in his reply, lowering the tall glass of beer from his lips and back onto the table. "To fight for what I believe in," he went on.

"But surely you will die out there," Calliope was blunt in her statement, making Casey raise his eyebrows at her. "It is a fact, war never ends well," just for a split second Casey could see a smile tug at her lips as if she enjoyed the war. But it was gone before it even twisted into a full smile.

"At least I die a hero," he was so naive at the fact that he was giving up his life just to be remembered as a soldier nothing more. "Protecting Queen and country," he smiled at the thought of protecting innocent people and the people he loved.

"How noble," she mocks, rolling her eyes at him. "You could perfectly die here in this pub. Death is always round the corner for us all," Calliope was implying that one day Death will come for her.

"You're such a delight," he remarks with a sarcastic tone. Bringing his glass of beer back to his lips, taking a gulp of the liquid.

"Thank you," she said in her own sarcastic tone, cocking one leg over the other as she straightened her dress down. "But this war is going to be bloody, and long, and bring so much chaos. Are you prepared to face the horrors?" Calliope's tone turned serious, as it was a serious matter. Calliope could not foresee what the war will bring, but she knows every war has blood, carnage, and death.

"Already worried for me?" He offered a boyish smirk with his question, but it made Calliope scoff at him.

"No, just interested that is all," she remarked, but an idea struck her mind, a little game so to speak. "How about a bet?" She arched her perfectly shaped eyebrow to him, which piqued his own interest in the matter.

"What type of bet?" He asked, but it just brought a wide smile to Calliope's face.

"If you can survive the war, I will grant you immortality," Calliope spoke without missing a beat, but it made Casey laugh a deep one. Finding that she was mad, and not having the power to grant it. Due to the fact it wasn't real.

"You're joking right?" His laughter died down but still held it in his tone as he asked the question. Calliope did not twist her lips into a smile to indicate that she was joking.

"Do I sound like I'm joking?" She replied, keeping the seriousness in her tone. Casey could sense that she wasn't, but who would say such a thing that isn't possible.

"Then I would suggest that you are mad," he said calmly. Calliope didn't take offence, as she expected as much from a mortal. A closed minded human who can not stretch their mind to fantasy.

"We shall see won't we," her words lingered in the air, and Casey was doubting his belief as he couldn't help but believe her. Out of the corner of his eye, Casey could see a fellow soldier drunk out of his face. Probably the only way he could cope with going to war. He stumbled over, eyes locked on Calliope as if she was prey and he was the hunter ready to pounce and attack.

"You-you done with the whore?" His words were slurred, thinking that Calliope was hired to be a company to the soldiers. "I want a-a turn," he managed to speak as a hiccup escaped his mouth. Which wafted the stench of alcohol to Calliope.

"Take care how you speak!" He abruptly, raised from his seat, allowing the chair to be pushed back at a fast pace and be knocked over. The soldier just laughs at Casey and unexpectedly, he uses his free hand to push Casey away. It was a little too strong and he tumbled back and over the fallen chair, thudding against the foot. It happened so fast that Casey had no time to react. The drunken soldier turns to face Calliope - who was sitting there unphased by his brute force.

"Come whore! Let me bed thee!" He spoke like he was back in the seventeenth century. He takes a few steps closer, as Casey was trying to scramble to his feet. Once the drunk soldier was close enough, Calliope moved at a fast speed that the drunk man could not comprehend. But the next thing he knew, his head was being slammed onto the wooden table. With such force, it smashes the table in two. The loud crack of wood or his skull rang out, alerting to the altercation.

"Call me a whore again, and see what happens," Calliope spoke in a calm manner, but the hint of anger in her tone came across clearly. Casey watched at what she did, his eyes going widen. She managed to take down a man - who was twice her size, like she was swatting a fly. As the drunk soldier fell unconscious, Casey took a few steps forward, his eyes locked on Calliope.

"I was not mistaken," he began, as his bewilderment expression twisted into a boyish smirk. "You can take care of yourself," he found that part of her alluring, and physically a woman of her statuer, could not complete such a feat like what he witnessed. Calliope smiled at his fascination with her, she could see it in her eyes, as she had seen it in many before him.

"Do not forget it," she remarks, stepping around the soldier, her heels clicked against the wood, as she heads towards the door of the pub. She stops at the threshold of the door, and cocks her head back over her shoulder, feeling Casey's eyes. "See you soon," a wicked smile twisted the corner of her lips, but she already placed one foot in front of the other, and left the pub behind. Casey stood there, he held mixed emotions about it all. He had no clue if she was for real, or she was just a nutter. In the back of his mind, he was kind of excited to see if Calliope was speaking the truth...

............................

With what I was still wearing when I met Dream and Death, I arrived at a cafe. This cafe was located near the river Thames, and one could simply look out of its windows and there it was, in all of its glory. There were a few tables scattered outside of the shop, allowing the customers to take a seat, and take in the sun and the view.

On one of these tables, was a face that I could not forget that easily. I've been saving his ass for over eighty years.

"Private Casey Jones," the words lingered in my mouth for a moment, as he raised his head up to meet my gaze. But quickly smiled once he realised it was me.

"Queen Calliope," he mocks in return. "What do I owe thee honour?" He questioned, extending his arm out to the already pulled out chair, and gracefully sat as if she was a Queen in her realm.

"Wanted to catch up," she flashed her eyebrows, leaning forward and grabbing the white cup and saucer as it was filled with tea. "Last time I saw you. You were playing house with Jeffery Dahmer," she brought the tea to her lips, and took a slip of the liquid. It was sweet as it went down her throat.

"Thanks to me, they caught him," Casey shot back, but I arched up my eyebrow to him, and offered a pointed look. "Don't make me say it," he pleaded, but I just remained quiet, just offering an intense gaze. He groans, as he hates to admit things. "Thanks to you," he gritted through the words as if they pained him to say.

"You're welcome by the way," I said, lowering the cup back to its saucer. "He was this close to slicing you up," I brought my index finger and thumb together, as they barely touched.

"He whacked me over the head because I caught on," Casey states with a flare of his hands. Still pissed to this day about the situation.

"And you were stupid enough to chase a serial killer," I shot back at him, as when he told me about it, I could only see it going one way. "You might not die, but you still feel pain," my tone changed to concern, as if I was reliving the memory in my head.

"Didn't know you cared," he remarked, chuckling to himself. "But it was nice of you to save me," he was genuine in his reply. We both made a friendship over the years, we did have a moment or two, but it never really went anywhere. I was glad for his friendship over the romantic one. "But you did not come here to reminisce. What's on your mind?" He was always straight to the point, and knew me to a degree.

"There's," I paused for a moment, really going to speak my mind for once in my life. "There's this guy. He's a handful for sure, but he did something I didn't expect a guy like him to do," I explained, pushing the cup of tea back towards Casey. "And I don't know how to feel about it," I sunk back into the seat, crossing one leg over the over.

"What did he do?" Casey questioned leaning forward onto the glass table.

"He freed me," were all the words I chose to speak. Because in reality that's what he did. Freed me from my imprisonment, and the wrath of my creators.

"It sounds to me like you got it bad," he exclaimed, finding enjoyment in seeing me suffer the emotions all mortals have.

"What?! No!?" I exclaimed, defensive on the matter as I could not possibly be falling for the King of Dreams. "The idea of it is ludacris. It could not happen in a million of years," Casey gave me a pointed look, like he didn't believe the words from my mouth.

"Cali, you've been alive for millions of years. All that time in the presence of humans, watching, learning. Killing," he spoke the last word under his breath but I still heard him. I glared at him for a brief moment as I knew he didn't mean it. "But all that time, you pick up on things. You learn, evolve, grow. If you were simply a mindless puppet your creators would be pulling the strings, dictating what you do. But you're here, and not off fighting their battles," he reaches his hand across the table, as I lean forward and place my hand in his. "You are Calliope, Queen of Chaos. Your emotions guide you whether or not you like it," his speech clearly ended, as he offered a soft expression.

"When did you get so wise?" I teased, laughing softly at him. But he just shrugs his shoulders at me, also letting out a chuckle. His hands tightened around mine, as if indicating he was here for me. "Thank you," my tone was genuine, my eyes piercing.

"Now," he paused for dramatics, and pulled his hand free from mine. "How the hell did you find me?" I couldn't help but chuckle at his response. I blinked and the brown hue of my eyes changed to the deep unsettling red that I loved showing off. "That's so creepy," he remarks.

Since knowing Casey, and the adventures we've had. It's been awesome, and kept me busy over the decades. But even in those times, my mind always wondered about Dream and him being trapped. Back then I was a bitch, and didn't really know him and I had alternative motives. Even now, it still tugged at my heart...

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