Title: Someday We'll Know

Author: Katya

Rating: PG

Pairing: Dylan/Anthony

Summary: A relaxing evening reveals something more for one Angel.

Thanks: This goes out to Mistiec, who once again introduced an odd little pairing to my world. Thanks, chica.

Warning: I specialize in one-shots, quick little snippets of people's lives. Don't expect anything beyond what you read here, unless you want to take it up and run with it. Plus, mixing Prodigy with New Radicals does some weird things to my brain. Hence, this is a songfic. This was originally written sometime ago and I forgot to post it. Mea culpa.

Credits: Go to the fine people at Sony and Flower Films, plus everyone who helped to create the TV show. Except Robert Wagner, the stupid wanker. Songs belong to their writers and the artists who performed them.

She feels alive and free. Twisting, bending, flipping her head in every direction, she lets the music pound through her, turning her night of booze and friends into this one moment. She can forget the last six months. Forget Seamus' return, forget a stolen kiss with an impossible comrade, forget the look of surprise as he clutched at the sword that had struck his heart and fell back to his end. Forget the coldness that had enveloped her as she realized he must have died from that fall. Just to dance, just to feel something.

Charlie had suggested a girls' night. They had been working non-stop for the last six months, fixing all the damage caused by Madison Lee while rounding up the remaining members of the O'Grady clan. They needed to unwind.

Natalie and Alex have left her on the floor alone, seeking refuge from the throbbing music and suffocating closeness of writhing bodies on the dance floor. So, they headed outside where the weather is moderately cool, being blessed with a breeze from the Pacific.

That left Dylan blissfully unaccompanied, for once. The others had worried over her, Alex because of the kiss, Nat because of her shutdown whenever they mentioned HIM and Seamus. They had returned to scene that night. No bodies meant someone had lived. No bodies, no blood (Nat confided later that that fact alone creeped her out more that the Thin Man laying one on Dylan), nothing to show that two men had fallen, supposedly, to their doom.

But none of that matters at this moment to Dylan. She is free. She lets the music pound over her, shaking her body in the rhythms laid out by Prodigy blaring over the speakers. Men try to move up on her, but she just backs away. She doesn't want that confinement that comes when dancing in pairs.

So when she feels another body pressing up against her back, she immediately begins to pull away. A strong, firm hand slides up her back, to her neck. She tenses, preparing to step back, grab his arm and toss him over her shoulder. Then she feels the tell tale pinpricks from her skull as he threateningly tugs at her hair, strong enough to let her know who it is but so gentle he doesn't add new strands to his growing collection.

She relaxes ever so slightly, still prepared to pound his intense face if he tries anything. Instead, he pulls her to him and forces her to move with him, with the pounding bass and hypnotic synthesizer. She doesn't see his face, trusting instead that he doesn't mean her any harm, that he is who she thinks he is and not the other.

Finally, the heavy thuds of techno give way to a gentler sound and the exhausted masses exit the dance floor, leaving just the couples taken in by the ballad. She turns ever so slowly, afraid of what she would see; still hoping her instincts have not let her down as they had so many times in regards to him.

Her eyes meet a crisp white shirt, stark against the black suit and tie he always wore. Her eyes travel upwards, taking in the sharp outline of his shoulders, the elegant sweep of his neck, the clenched jaw and lips she knew were soft as velvet. Her eyes travel further up, quickly bypassing his aquiline nose to meet the icy stare of the man she feared had died.

His grip on her tightens as he starts to move to the soft sounds of a guitar and the hesitant singer. She recognizes the song as a remake but she doesn't care. It might not be her usual fare, but it will do for tonight.

So many questions

I need an answer

Two years later

You're still on my mind

"Why?" she finally asks, but he shakes his head. She understands. No words are needed just the lyrics. She realizes this is his way to apologize for his disappearance, the one six months ago and the one that will occur at the end of the song, when her friends will find her crying after feeling the embrace a dead man.

Someday we'll know

Why the sky is blue

Someday we'll know

Why I wasn't meant for you

She can feel tears fall down her face, wetting his shirt that she has been leaning into since she realized he was leaving again. It wasn't fair, she thinks. But since when has life ever been fair?

I bought a ticket to the end of the rainbow

I watched the stars crash in the sea

If I could ask God just one question

Why aren't you here with me?

The song ends and she feels him tensing, his fingers pull slightly on her hair. The crowd returns to the dance floor in anticipation of something loud and explosive. She slips her hands from his waist and looks up. What she sees makes her want to stop him.

Pain. Love. Fear. Hope. He is a killer with the soul of a saint. He wants to reach out and hold on to her for the rest of his days. But he knows, and she must learn, that can never be. There will never be a someday for them.

She blinks to clear her eyes, unsure of what she saw was true or her own heart breaking. They close for a second time as he steals another kiss. Then he is gone, swallowed by a crowd of thrashing, grinding bodies.

Nat and Alex reach her, and are surprised that the tomboy they love as a sister is standing in the middle of a club with tears running down her face. She cannot tell them what she has seen in the eyes of a walking corpse.

Later, when she has convinced them she's okay and wants to be alone, she sits in the darkness, a burning cigarette in one hand and a fresh beer in the other. She toasts the silent man who owns a larger part of herself than she is comfortable with, and makes a silent pledge that there will be a someday.