Death had guided us across a bridge, as in the distance people were playing, and swimming in the nearby lake. But I had a feeling this was no social visit. I walked behind the siblings as the bridge was not wide enough for the three of us to walk side-by-side. Lingering back taking in the atmosphere, the fresh air around me. However, my eyes always locked back with the black coat Dream wore, watching him as he talked with his sister. I felt if I stared too long he would turn and meet my gaze, so I shifted my eyes every so often.

From where I was I could hear him state that when he was captured, it was not him they were looking for, but her. They had stopped on the bridge, which made me linger back, but they faced one another when she told him. To his surprise she already knew that it was her that they were looking for, and Dream just happened to be the one who got caught up in it all. Death leans forward and hooks an arm around him, as she bends down and begins to unknot her laces, to free her shoes.

"What are you doing?" I hear Dream announce, bewildered with what she was doing.

"Taking my shoes off," she replies. "You should take yours off too," she pulls the black sock from her foot. "It's good to touch the Earth with your bare feet. It's grounding," I rolled my eyes at her statement, as she had finished taking both of her shoes and socks off. "Come on, I don't want to miss the next one," Death began to walk forward, and Dream followed his head with her. But turned his head back over to me, meeting our gazes.

"Busy bee she is," I remarked, swaying my hips forward, and coming to pass Dream, but I looped my arm through his, and we walked side by side. We walked in silence, still hooked to one another, following Death as she came off the bridge, and walked down the slope where the humans were hanging around.

"Hi, Sam," Death spoke, as I noticed the man walking past her, who had gotten out of the water, but the fact was. He was a spirit. He turned his head to lock eyes with her, and stopped in his tracks, walking closer to Death.

"Hi. I'm sorry. Do I know you?" He spoke as the chuckled died from his throat. Death did not speak, but just started at him with a knowing look. Then, like a light bulb going off in his head, he realised who it was. His eyes went to the lake he was still in, making the connection. "Oh, no," he spoke. "No, no," he stepped closer to Death. "I need to talk to my wife for, like, one second," he was begging with Death to have a single more moment with his wife.

"Sam," she states his name softly.

"You don't understand. All our flight information is on my phone. I just need to give her the code," he pleaded again, hoping to give it to her.

"I'm so sorry, Sam,"

"But we're on our honeymoon," even that made it worse for his wife.

"Your time is up," it was kind of a cruel fate, but it was life. Death waits for no man.

"Sam?" A woman's voice echoed from nearby, as she raised from her seat, and stepped forward. But I could not look nor hear what was about to come next. I turned my head away, and closed my eyes swiftly, but soon hearing her scream for her husband, tugged at something within me. I could hear Death's wings flap, and I peeled open my eyes to see Dream was staring down at me, offering me a soft expression.

"You think after committing so much death yourself, you would be used to it," I began, as I was mentioning myself. "Cutting people's lives short, ending their existences in the most brutal way. You think seeing Death do her work wouldn't be so bad, but it is," I exhaled deeply, finding the words I spoke to Dream were true.

"Are those pesky emotions coming to light?" Dream questioned arching one of his eyebrows up to me. A faint, but noticeable, smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Was he teasing me? Was I liking it?

"I believe they are," I remarked with a grin. "I'm still a cold hearted bitch though," I winked at him, before unhooking my arm from his. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Death walking back towards us. "Been a pleasure, Death," I bowed my head ever so slightly at her.

"Where are you off too?" She questioned with a raise of her eyebrow.

"There's somewhere else I have to be," I smiled thinly to her, before turning my eyes upon Dream. "Until we meet again, Dream... And I'm sure it will be soon," a flirtatious smile came to my face, without even me knowing of it. My eyes flicked between the siblings one last time, before turning on my heels, and heading back the way we came. Feeling their eyes upon me, but I didn't turn back. But my mind wandered to that of someone else...

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

*1939, September 14th - London, England*

Calliope walked through the streets of London, it had been over ten years since she spoke/seen Dream, and his suffering brought her joy. And the chaos his absence brought was also fulfilling. Like she predicted, another war broke out and it was the second world war. France and the United Kingdom came together and declared war on Germany, and Hitler. Calliope could feel that it was going to bring on discord, and chaos through the world. She was going to be living it up...

Calliope's heels clicked against the pavement, she was just heading to a local pub. Like any other woman, she liked to have a drink, and dabble in men that were throwing themselves at her. She entered the pub, and noticed it filled with life. Men, women, laughing with one another, and pouring alcohol down their throats like it was going out of fashion. Calliope also noticed a handful of men were wearing army uniforms, they were crisp and sharp, meaning they had not gone to anyone, and that they would be deploying soon. Having one last hooray.

At the bar counter, there were a few empty spaces Calliope could sit, and order herself a drink. She was wearing a dull red polka dot dress, with kitten heels, her raven hair to her shoulders, not stylised just plain. She flagged down the bartender, and asked for whiskey, which earned her an odd look from the bartender, but she dismissed his gaze, as he fetched her the whiskey anyway.

"Hey there doll," a deep male voice pierced from the right of Calliope making her turn her gaze upon the man leaning beside her. He was wearing the standard uniform. His brown hair slick back, a cocky smile, to go with his blue eyes. "What is a lady like you doing in a place like this?" The oldest pickup line in history. She scoffed at him, before the bartender returned with her whiskey and placed it in front of her. "That's not ladylike," the man scoffed at her choice of drink, but she ignored his comment and picked up the glass. "Maybe I could take you out of here," his voice lowered trying to be seductive in a way, and he stepped closer, his free hand roamed to her back, and began to crease it. "And I'll make it worth your time," his hand slowly lowered down her back, edging closer to her bottom.

Calliope was restraining herself, and all she just wanted to do was obliterate this fool. Instead, she tightened her jaw and brought her whiskey to her lips and downed the small amount that was in. Which the bartender did on purpose. The army man reached her ass with his large hands and gave it a tight squeeze. Calliope wasn't alarmed, she knew it was coming. She simply placed her glass back on the counter, and used her hand to grip his wrist. However at the same time, a man who watched from a distance marched on, and gripped the soldier's shoulder.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, ragging the man around so he came face to face with this other soldier. "Go cool off," a threatening gaze appeared on the man's face, and the soldier in question skedaddled out of there with his own drink in hand. Calliope watched as the man faded into the crowd, and turned her gaze to the man who came to her aid.

"I did not need your help," she spoke bluntly, catching the uniformed man off guard. "I would have handled it myself," the man couldn't help but scoff at her comment.

"From where I stood, he was about to reach up your-" the man cut himself off, as Calliope was giving him a death glare. "It was more like he handled you," he went on, dismissing Calliope's comment.

"Look, I do not need a 'strong' man to come to my rescue," she admitted, because she was far more powerful than these mortals. This time the man just sniggers at her comment, finding it amusing to himself.

"I would not suggest such a thing. A woman can easily defend herself, if she wishes," Calliope was kind of taken back from his comment, she did not expect this from a mortal. One who grew up in this realm, taught by his forefathers that he was superior to that of women.

"What is your name?" Calliope asked with curiosity, arching one of her eyebrows up at him.

"Private Casey Jones," he introduced himself formally, offering a thin smile. Before holding his rather large manly hand out to her.

"Calliope," she responded, bringing her petit hand into his, as they shook. Greeting one another. "Nice to meet you," she wore a genuine smile on her face, finding the interaction meaningful. Their handshake lasted a few moments, but they disconnected as Casey held a boyish grin, and in this light he seemed to turn a bit red in the cheeks.

Oh, what could go wrong with this one?

************