Dark Ice

"Hello, nice to meet you."

I suppress a laugh. No, if he knew whose hand he was shaking, he would not be happy to meet me.

He winces as I shake the offered hand, probably the cold. He quickly embraces his warm cup of coffee, sipping it before turning back toward me. "So, what do you do?"

I shrug. "Travel. I have some business to attend to here."

"Nice. I'm a social worker for the family line."

Oh I know. I know everything. Too bad for all the families that are on his waiting list. He's going to be leaving behind his own distraught family himself.

The conversation lags, my fault. Never been good at the social aspects of living among humans.

I order an iced tea. The young man tries not to stare. Hmm, polite. What a pity. Its always easier to deal with the rude ones.

The crisp autumn swirls leaves off the trees and onto the waiting traffic. They honk noisily. My head throbs slightly. Well I'll be done soon.

The man finishes his coffee, (two cream, half sugar-half to try it one day, he seemed to enjoy it.) and exits the warm embrace of Tim's. I leave too, except now I look prettier. And younger. I follow him a few blocks before calling him, pretending to be lost.

He hurries over, eager to help this stunning woman. Maybe she'll invite him over, it is very cold.

I lead him into a bus stop. Out of the wind. Out of sight. I watch a he pulls out his phone. "No point." I lay a hand on his shoulder. "You won't need that anymore. He looks up just as I change, back into the crazy man who ordered an iced tea in October. His jaw drops and stays that way. I let go of him and he falls to the ground, his phone clattering to the ground beside him.

They'll say it was a heart attack.

***

I kick off my shoes and hang up my coat. A good evening. I passed numerous decor shops on my way home; all of them featuring ghosts and even me in my most popular form.

The fire is out. No it's not. I snap my fingers and relax in front of a blazing furnace. There's no heat; I just enjoy watching the flames dance and devour the wood.

Sometimes I wonder if I should have done things differently. This was one of those times. The man's manager had less to mourn him than the young man, only his wife and she was sole heir to his millions. What a fortune.

I cast a glance at my own collection of various bills and coins. It fills the closet, waiting to be used when I travel. I enjoy traveling, you have too when you have my job.

His friends will miss him, the young man. The way people form relationships is an intricate process I still haven't deciphered. They make friends and fight old friends. Brother against brother over some petty thing.

I scoff, tiny wisps of cool air hitting colder air and forming little clouds.

***

Demi didn't know why the man was so interested in her work. He'd been waiting in the Tim's outside her workplace, waiting to talk about her day. It was comforting to have someone to talk to, he didn't say much but she knew he was listening.

Her last patient left the room, back to his parents where he belonged. She patiently explained that their teenage son was simply being a teenager and it would all pass.

She stepped outside, bundling her coat around her. She checked both ways before hurrying across the street, ducking into Tim's just as they brought out a fresh batch of doughnuts.

The man spotted her and nodded.

She ordered a chocolate dipped doughnut along with her normal coffee and placed them in front of the man. He had his own coffee, normally it was iced tea.

He smiled lazily, his handsome face chiseled in all the right places except around the eyes. Demi like eyes soft. He sat up a bit straighter as she at down. "How was the murder?"

He always referred to her work as murder. Headshrinker to some, murder to him. It was the same he had said.

She shrugged, gazing absently out the window. "Just another one with mommy issues." She sipped her drink and he did the same. Was his expression disgust. She faced him but he looked content.

"Of course, we all have those don't we?"

She turned back toward the window, taking another long sip.

He wanted to punch himself. Of curse not. Her mother died soon after she had been born. She'd never experienced mommy issues. As a matter of fact, neither had he. Why was he talking? But he tried again.

"If not mommy issues, cause mommies are nice of course, friend issues?" It was hopeful, like he didn't already know everything about her. She sighed.

"Coworkers maybe." This week two had asked her out, both eager to hit it up with the pretty tharapist in their office.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, enjoying the semi-peacefulness of a Tim's. He ordered an iced tea. She hid a small smile. To each his own.

Demi finished her cup and stood up. "Well, that's fifteen minutes."

He nodded and drained his cup.

***

I kick off my shoes, vehemently this time. They hit the wall and fall with a thud to the floor, staining my wallpaper a muddy brown in the process.

No coat to hang. He'd forgotten it at Tim's.

***

The waitress was giving the tables a final wipe down. She came to the table where the strange man had sat all day, but he tipped well so she didn't care. She wiped it carelessly. It was neatly the weekend and she had plans. She turned to leave but spotted a coat under the table. It must have slipped off the chair. She picked it up. It belonged to the strange man. Everything about it screamed his name. If only she knew his name!

Well the headshrinker might know. She glanced across the street. Still open. Good. She ran out the door, shoving one arm through the sleeve as she ran heedlessly across the street. A car screeched to a stop, honking. She flicked her finger and hurried inside. The other girl was getting ready to leave.

She stuck out the coat. "The guy left his coat. Could you give it to him?"

"Sure." Demi took the coat. The girl was obviously eager for her weekend.

"Gee thanks." the girl popped her gum."Really wasn't looking forward to hanging around waiting for him to show." The girl disappeared out the door as quickly as she'd entered. A few moments later tires screeched before Demi heard a thud. She ran outside clutching the coat. The girl had been hit.

Demi gasped, covering her mouth, hoping she wouldn't throw up. The man materialized next to her. She glanced up, he was staring at the accident, his mouth a thin line.

She held out his coat. He took it wordlessly, never removing his eyes from the scene. Then his eyes slowly moved down to her, a small level of unbelief behind his irises.

She shifted uncomfortably and he straightened. "Do you want to walk with me?"

***

I've walked many young ladies home. None of them ever reach home.

She takes my arm a couple blocks from the Tim's. The crash is still in both of our thoughts. Except I know that the waitress wasn't supposed to die. It was supposed to be her. The girl who is clinging to my arm. I had it all arranged so that I wouldn't have to do it myself. But I'd forgotten my coat.

We walk through an alley she says is a shortcut. But she turns unexpectedly. "I know why you're here."

I try to appear nonchalant. "What?"

As I watch she changes. Into the young man I thought I killed.

"Hello Grim Reaper."