A/N: I thought that I was somewhat hopelessly deadlocked with this one, until I was listening to Moi Dix Mois(Nocturnal Romance, I strongly recommend it) and came up with this. Please tell me what you think. Kisses-Lunagrrl180

"Jesus tap dancing Christ."

I stumble out of the truck and squint in the bright sunshine. The sidewalk is full of people, like a New York subway at the end of the day. People stacked like sardines in a can. How the hell are we going to find Stan in this mess?

I can't see a damn thing, only the tops of people's heads and beyond, a slice of the ocean, the green blue color reflecting off the sun. I hop up desperately, cursing my ballerina flats and petite frame. I shove some poor tourist out of the way roughly and make my way into the depths of the crowd, instantly assaulted by the smells of sweat, cheap perfume and in the distance, roasting meat.

In a split second, my wrist is up towards my nose; I inhale the leftover scent of sandalwood and frankincense in an effort not to dry heave. Standing on my tiptoes, I can only make out a maze of heads and hair. Straight enviable blonde hair, choppy brunette hair that looks like the owner had stuck their finger in an outlet, but no familiar slightly messy, slightly too long raven hair among the masses.

Out of nowhere, I hear a sharp whistle and Kyle's voice carries over the masses of people, "Wendy! Over here!"

I blindly try to make my through the crowd in the direction of his voice.

"Fuck!"

I stumble over someone's abnormally large military style boots and somehow end up in Kyle's arms. He turns crimson and I scramble out his accidental embrace, trying to recover my dignity. Kenny snickers and I turn around like a dog chasing its tail, looking for anything abnormal. My already dangerously short cargo skirt has risen up a good two inches, barely clearing my ass.

Flushing with embarrassment, I fix it, very carefully avoiding Kenny's eyes. I collapse on the small patch of grass adjacent to the sidewalk, leaning up against a palm tree. The strangely textured trunk pokes through my shirt and I squirm uncomfortably.

"Did you see him?"

I shake my head no.

Kyle continues," We should try walking further up north."

So we do, walking for hours, what seems like miles until by feet become so blistered that's it's nearly impossible to stand, let alone move. I try going barefoot, that lasts about 30 seconds, before the ninety degree sidewalk burns the bottom of my feet and I bit my lower lip, drawing blood, trying not to cry out in pain.

Kenny offers to carry me, and I end up riding piggyback to where the car is parked. The sun is setting and we stop and pause, admiring the reflection of the pinks and purples in the glittering ocean. I consider it a small miracle that my feet aren't bleeding by the time I take the ten feeble steps from the sidewalk to the car. We drive in silence, not exactly sure where we are going, but Kyle seems pretty determined to keep moving. A car swerves and cuts us off and Kyle swears loudly. I had no idea he had such a colorful vocabulary.

As we drive down Sepulveda Boulevard, we pass the Veteran's Cemetery, with row after row of stark white, anonymous graves. In the fading dusk, I spot a familiar silhouette, standing beneath a huge willow tree.

"Stop!" I shriek and Kyle complies, looking somewhat startled.

"What?" he asks me, a slightly irritated tone in his voice.

I say nothing and simply point to the vanishing figure in the distance.