Ehm… Hi! Well, this is the first fanfic I publish… I'm not sure how this thing works… ehm… anyways; I hope you like it and enjoy it like I did while writing it :) I apologize for my english beforehand, sorry!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine, the characters belong to Man Of Action.

A better day

Another tiring day had ended. She was sad, walking down the dark streets, thinking, wondering. It had been another tiring day of search for Rex, with no results at all. The boy had disappeared a month ago and even when she didn't want to admit it, she was slowly starting to lose faith.

She finally reached home.

She introduced they key into the key hole and opened the door of her place, slowly closing the door after she went inside the house.

She threw her coat on the living and walked through the living room to the kitchen. She turned on the light and prepared herself something to eat. She was not hungry, but she needed to eat something or she would end up crying like a baby. Everything inside the house was in silence. She hadn't been there in a long while.

It was a very elegant house, in a very elegant neighborhood. The floor was covered and the living room walls were peach-colored, elegantly decorated with pictures and paintings of fruits and flowers. The furniture was elegant too, all varnished. It was a beautiful place indeed, Holiday remembered herself to come and clean the place once in a while. She needed some time to think alone too. Things weren't going well.

Not at all.

The man she was working with was not the guy he used to be. Sometimes he was bearable, and some other times, he was not. Well, today was one of those in where he was back into his usual cocky flirtatious mood. And although she did feel happy by hearing such beautiful things, she knew that he would say the same words to every single beauty he saw.

She wouldn't fool herself by thinking that she was special for him giving the condition of his mind. He had no idea of anything, no idea of how she felt, no idea at all.

She finished eating and turned off the light of the kitchen, leaving the room to go to her bedroom, on the second floor. Slowly walking as her feet were as heavy as stones, she went upstairs and for a moment she leaned against the railing and contemplated the first floor as the light of the moon came through the windows.

It looked empty, deserted, abandoned. Just like her heart. Beautiful, but empty and covered of dust.

She sighed and decided to go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day, she thought, not even believing in her words.

She closed the door behind her and once again sighed. She was in Beverly's room. Well, in the room they used to share before the nanite event. There was a bunk on a corner and two desks next to the bunk. One belonged to Beverly, the other, to her.

She walked across the room and touched the desks, trying to remember better times.

But life isn't about living in the past, so she went to her closet and took a pajama, then she went to the bathroom (next to the door where she came there was another that lead her to the bathroom). She decided to take a quick shower (even when in a couple of hours morning would arrive) before going to bed.

Forty-five minutes later she came out of the bathroom, her hair almost dried after rubbing it with a towel. The pressure on her shoulders had lessened a lot and it was like she could see clearly again. Finally the bad mood was over.

She was wearing a white sleeveless shirt and a pair of gray trousers; she took the jacket from behind the door and put it on her, and then she went downstairs to drink a glass of icy whisky. It was the typical night when instead of sleep she used to sit at the edge of her window and contemplate the sky as her mind used to think in impossible but happy scenarios in where everything was jokes and happiness.

She came back to her room and left the glass of whisky on her night table (she used the bed below) and went again to the bathroom to brush her teeth and then her hair before go to bed, or, to be precise, the window.

She was coming out of her bathroom when a voice coming from her window made her jump and close the bathroom door with a loud sound.

"Hi" said Six. He was sitting on the edge of the window, drinking a glass of whisky. Her whisky.

"What the heck are you doing here!" she said, losing all the calm and peace she had earned from the shower.

She was furious, really furious. How he dared to come to her place? How could he! This was her home! Her only shelter when she couldn't find peace anywhere else! Now he had just crossed the line. And she would kick him out of her house if it was necessary.

"Just paying you a visit, why so mad?" he said, as he was about to drink again. She quickly walked with determination and took the glass before he could touch it again with his lips. And before he could protest she walked away and put the glass on her night table again. He had never seen her that mad and with her hair lying down instead her usual bun, but she looked interesting that way, very interesting.

"What are you looking at?" she said as she turned around to see him smirking.

"Oh, nothing" he said as he stood up from the window and walked towards her desk. He had spotted something he wanted to check.

"Anyways, what are you doing here?" she asked annoyed as she sat on her bed and took the glass of whisky to drink it before he could. She made sure of not put her lips in the same place he had done it before. It was a childish thing to do, but on that moment she was mad at the guy in front of her.

"Just came to pay you a visit. You didn't look well when you left" he said, now sitting on the desk and facing her.

She was not in the mood tell him how much she missed the old him, how much she was suffering every time he tried to flirt with her. It would be a waste of time, she thought, after all; could he understand her in his condition? No, she thought again.

She went to the window and sat at the edge of it, enjoying the fresh air moving her long hair, now lying down. She took a sip, letting the strong liquor to fill her body of a warm and tingly feeling. She closed her eyes, it was a strong liquor for a woman like her, and she had to admit that she was not used to drink. But sometimes, like now, she needed to calm her nerves a bit.

"I'm fine" she said, annoyed to see him sitting on her desk with his damn cocky smile.

"Are you sure?" he replied, sounding casual as he took a picture of her desk. It was her and her sister a few years ago. Her hair was loosened just like now and was wearing shorts and a green tank top. Her sister was using a short dress and her hair was loosened too. He could tell by the picture that those were her happy memories.

He compared the girl of the picture with the woman sitting on the edge of the window drinking a poison that she hated.

"Is this you?" he asked.

"Who else could it be?" was her halfhearted reply.

She was losing patience with him. Of course it was her! Who else could it be? Why else she would have the picture in her desk?

"I don't know" he said, to her surprise. "She doesn't look like you at all". He sounded casual, and his eyes focused again on the picture.

"What do you mean?" she said, still sounding like she didn't care.

"She's happy" he finished. Now he had just hit a nerve.

She frowned, and he smiled. That was the reaction he was expecting to see in her. He knew she had been acting more hysterical than usual (yes, he considered a bit hysterical, although he didn't know if she was like that before lose his memory).

She stood up, and walked towards him. He didn't move an inch, it was a silent challenge. She put the glass on her desk abruptly, he still didn't move. She took the picture of his hands violently and put it back into its place. Six didn't move nor stopped looking at her. She wouldn't back off either. Both were inches away from each other, her eyes expressed anger, pain. His eyes, hidden by the glasses, showed determination, challenge. And no one wanted to back off.

"What do you want?" she asked in a threatening tone, keeping the eye contact.

"I don't know, you tell me" he replied, now standing in front of her. She didn't back off.

"I'm not for your games" she said as she tried to keep some distance from him before the situation could go out of control. But he stopped her.

He grabbed her from her arm, tightly enough to don't let her go anywhere. She tried to release of his grip but it was useless. He pulled her closer to him and both were about to kiss when she decided to turn the tables on him.

He had released her arm just a second before kiss her, big mistake. She put her arm on his chest, to create some distance between the two of them, and pulled her lips just an inch apart of his, just to make him suffer. She smiled for an instant and then the smile erased, revealing her true feelings, anger and pain.

"I'm not your toy"

She pulled herself away from him, took her glass and drank the rest of the liquor in one shot. She left the glass and went back to the window, in where she sat once again and started to watch the stars. She looked calm, but her heart was destroyed. That had been too much for her. She wanted to cry.

He didn't move, but her words echoed in his mind. She had sounded firm, determined. But he felt something, a vibration in her tone of voice that made him understand his mistake. She was hurt. Hurt for his attitude today, hurt for his attitude tonight, hurt for not being the man she knew. And that did hurt him too.

He felt awkward now, how get out of that situation? He should apologize, that was the right choice, but he was too proud, too Six to do that. Apologize was never one of his options, ever.

For a moment everything went silent in the room, both busy with their own thoughts. She was trying to hold the tears that wanted to come out; he was still looking between her stuff that was on her desk, but there was nothing that would call his attention. At least not in the desk.

There was another picture in her night table. He had noted it before but until that moment he didn't pay attention. The picture was facing the bed, probably something that could make her smile on bad nights like this, Six thought. He went to the night table and took the picture, surprised of the content in the picture frame.

It was him, with her! It had to be from before he lost his memory, he thought. Why she had such a picture, and why he was in there? He didn't remember letting anyone to take a picture of him, ever! She looked beautiful wearing a white dress that reached to her knees, her hair tied in her usual bun and instead of her boots she was wearing white sandals. She looked casual, but beautiful.

It was night on the picture, his right hand on her waist, he was wearing the same green outfit he was using the day he meet her. Well, that wasn't the real first time he met her, but it was the first time he remembered he saw her. Back to the point, he wasn't smiling, but he saw himself and knew that he was happy that day. And so she was, she was smiling just like in the picture in where she was with her sister.

And now, she was there sitting on the edge of the window, destroyed. He compared the girl he held in his arms in the picture with the woman that was sitting at the edge of the window. They were the same and totally different at the same time. And it was his fault.

He put the picture back on its place, and trying to do the less noise possible, he walked towards her, thinking about a memory that he couldn't remember.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him.

"It's from our first date" she said, avoiding looking at him. She had been looking him when he found the picture, and her eyes were full of tears as the memory crossed her mind.

He didn't remember they had dated, and Rex didn't mention when he told him about everything he needed to know of the six years that he had lost. He mentioned they had saved her sister (including the moment in where they were about to kiss and he interrupted), but he had no idea they went out on a date after that.

"Rex didn't mention it" he said. The memory of the boy made him feel guiltier of Holiday's current state. Maybe with him here he wouldn't have been such a jerk.

"He wasn't there when you invited me, he went out on a date with Beverly" she said, still not looking at him. Her eyes slowly started to dry, and the tears that hadn't fallen yet started to die.

"Holiday... Rebecca," he started. But she stopped him.

She sat, her feet back on the room, with her head looking down, her hair covering her face, so he could not see her crying.

"Just go!" she yelled, and tears started to run through her cheeks, as all her sadness and pain started to come out of her heart, her broken heart.

Six remained in there for a moment, thinking if he should go or stay.

She wanted him to go; and considering all the damage he had done to her he should listen to her and obey, or that was what his brain was telling him. But his heart wanted to stay, and try to comfort her, but he knew that would be useless, considering that what she needed now had vanished.

He decided to leave.

If he stay he would cause her more pain and suffer, and he knew too well that a memory could be a sharp knife; a killer knife.

He slowly walked towards the door, and opened it. He turned to look at her one last time before close the door behind him. He could still listen from the other side of the door how she was still crying. The iron wall that protected his heart broke into two, and a cold wave of pain drowned his heart.

He went downstairs and then opened the door to leave the place. Not without regretting what he had done.

She was still upstairs, crying on her knees, releasing all her pain and sadness as the cry became louder and louder. She was panting for crying so much. But she needed it; she wouldn't keep this feeling in her heart any longer.

She dried her tears, and the door of the main entrance closed.

She ran to the window to see him, not even knowing why. Her eyes searched down the street for his silhouette, but it was nowhere to be seen. For a moment she remained in there, not losing the hope of seeing him a last time.

He closed the door and stood in there for a moment. He looked at the sky, just to see how the stars were starting to fade away and the sky was starting to turn soft light blue. Soon morning would come, and another day will start.

He took away his glasses to see the sky better with his own eyes. And, without putting them on again, he started to walk away.

He walked for a moment and before continue his way back to the base he looked once more to the window where he came in, their eyes met for a second. She looked surprised, sad. He looked depressed, tired. He decided to keep going, and she decided to go to bed and get some sleep. Soon it would be another day. Hopefully it would be a better day.

The sun started to appear on the horizon and the sky turned into an explosion of pink, orange and yellow. The few clouds on the sky were bathed by the colors. It was a beautiful view, a beautiful and sad view.

Holiday went to her bed, and covered herself with the blankets. She looked a last time to the picture in front of her, and then she fell asleep.

"Hopefully today would be a better day" said Six to himself after seeing the beautiful view of the sky. He put his glasses on, and continued his walk down the neighborhood.

The End

I know, it ends sad :( But I had an "epilogue" (it's more like a continuation of this one-shot) in where everything ends happier :) Tell me if you want to read it. I hope you have enjoyed it, reviews are always appreciated!