Almeria found herself pressed hard between the body of her attacker and the flaky crumbling surface of the brick wall. The nearby dumpster choaked the area with it's overwhelmingly fetid reek. This stench combined with the unwashed odor eminating from her sweating attacker caused her stomach to roil.

She knew better then to try to break away from him, not with the knife pressed to her throat like that. He had the upper hand. She remained silent and unflinching during his rough but thorough search of her person. She could smell his fear, his quiet despiration, she could feel it in his jerky movements, his slight hesitations. He was still grappling with his demons, had not fully given in to them, even now. She hoped he would fight his way clear of them someday. Could this be her purpose here? Certainly he was a soul in need of help. Her body tensed involuntarily as his groping became more invasive.

"You have my money, you have everything--why not take it and go?" She murmured, trying to catch his eyes with hers.

In response he pushed her harder against the wall, grinding her painfully against the rough wall, scraping her back. The knife in his hand flashed silver as he waved it before her eyes.

"Don't talk an' this'll be easier for both of us." His voice had an edge of hysterical urgency to it, a panting, electric quality that she liked not at all.

"I'm giving you a chance--" her words were cut off abruptly as he backhanded her, the blow causing her head to crack back against the bricks painfully.

Then, in an abrupt whirlwind of movement, he was gone. Without the weight of him pressing her in place, she slid down to the ground bonelessly, still muzzy-headed from the impact. Blinking in the gloom, trying to focus, she spotted her former attacker lying across from her, face down on the grimy pavement. She could smell the sharp copper tang of blood.

Using the wall for support, she raised herself to her knees, crouching defensively until the unknown third party chose to show himself. She didn't have to wait long, as a long thin shadow detatched itself from the rest. She hoped he was one of the good guys, she wasn't sure how much more abuse her head was up to tonight.

There was a long tense pause, then she finally broke it with an exasperated, "Well?"

"You allright?" Asked a deep rumbling voice, almost awkwardly. "I won't hurt you." He added belatedly.

"Well that's good to know." She muttered, easing slowly into a standing position. She took her eyes off of the shadow for a second to examine the body on the ground, a dark puddle beneath him could be water, but wasn't, she was sure. "You killed him."

"He attacked you." He replied simply, no remorse, no emotion. Problem solved.

"You've killed before." It was more an observation then a question. Best she knew where he stood, lest she be next.

There was another long pause, and the shadow faded back to blend with the rest so skillfully that even her sharp eyes could not see him. "Yes." Came his seemingly disembodied voice, farther away now.

"Wait!" She called recklessly. She could hear him turn, the faintest rustle. "I . . . " Well, what had she wanted? "I wanted to thank you. You saved my life." A mild exaggeration, but she was intreagued. Always a sucker for a good mystery.

"You're welcome. You shouldn't come out here alone at night." His tone suggested that she should have known better.

"I can take care of myself." She snapped defiantly, streightening her clothes back to presentability, squaring the shoulders of her lithe 5'3'' frame.

"My mistake." Her shadow remarked, an undercurrent of humor showing in his voice. "I thought I had saved your life?"

Almeria cursed her own brashness, having no good answer and he knew it. "My name's Almeria." She offered, changing the subject. Her head was no longer throbbing in time with her pulse, her vision clearing. She could almost pick him out again, a shape slightly lighter then the surrounding gloom.

She could feel his gaze settle on her for a moment, then, "I'm Shade."

"How appropriate." She had to smile. "Well, Shade, will you let me take you out to coffee or something, to show my appriciation for your heroic actions?"

"Heroic actions?" His voice became doubtful.

"Humor me. You did save me from a bit of trouble here." She looked down at the body with distaste. A shame, really. When Shade didn't answer, she added, "Hey, I'd at least like to see the face of my savior before I go."

She sensed something then, a tremor of emotion, and he turned away again. "No. You wouldn't. Trust me."

Her curosity enflamed her spirit tenfold. She took a step toward him. "Yes. I would." She told him firmly. His only response was a weary sigh. "Please?"

For a second she didn't think he was going to respond, then he turned back to her with alarming swiftness, "I don't think it's wise." He said in a bitter tone that ill suited his mellow voice.

He was tall, very tall. On the high end of six feet, if she was any judge, with a grace that belied his apparent gawkiness. Almeria tilted her head to look at the appropriate area of shadows, straining her sensitive eyes for a hint of detail. He stood very close to her now, she could catch an intreaguing whiff of wildness to his scent, something otherworldly. She couldn't put her finger on it, not here, with the dumpster drowning most traces into an oblivious murk.

"What do you want from me?" Shade asked, an edge of strain in his voice.

"Just to see your face." Suddenly this seemed very important to her. "So I'll know you if we meet again."

She could feel his discomfort like a tickling along her skin, but held her gaze firm. She knew that if he looked and held her eyes, she might just be able to persuade him. It had worked for her many times before. It was one of her gifts. She took a step back, toward the mouth of the alley, and the light beyond it. She took a step and he followed, drawn by her will. She could sense his alarm now, he was fighting it -- barely. It was as if he had no natural defense . . . interesting.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice hoarse, as she led him forward another step.

"Leading you into the light." She told him, sending out a feather light thread of thought in his direction, getting a sense of him. He had no barriers--none. No mental barrier, it was as if it had been ripped away completely. She could feel as well as smell his first stab of real fear as she took another step back.

He followed, unable to break even the lightest of contact. A shaft of light fell across his chest, gleaming mutedly on the leather of his long coat. She could see a bare silhouete of his features now, his hair hung down obscuring most of his face. His eyes were two shining pinpoints of light. His fear was of her, she realized with shame. He had been hurt like this before. It angered her that someone would abuse their Talent in such a fashion.

Almeria stepped into the light, just beyond the alley, a fresh breeze stirring her hair slightly, freeing her of the oppressive garbage smell. She breathed deeply of the crisp cool air, in her pleasure, urging Shade to follow.

He took the last step like a man in a dream, drowning in her will. As the light fell across his face she could clearly understand why it was he hid himself. Half of his face was revealed, pale as bone, the features thin and almost delicate. His eyes were a bright unnatural yellow, slightly gold nearer to the pupil, sleepless smudges beneath them. The other half was hidden behind his bright red hair, spiky and wild, longer in the front, hiding his face. The wind stirred his hair aside, and she saw why he hid. The right side of his face was a ruin, deep scarred gashes ran from temple to chin, missing the eye by a fraction. His throat was also scarred on that side, as if he had been set upon by some viscious beast.

Almeria's concentration broke, dissolving the contact between them. His eyes remained on hers for a moment, then closed as if unable to bear the sight of her. His pain danced along her skin, stinging, making her eyes tear involuntarily. She blinked several times to clear them.

"I . . ." she began, hesitating and ashamed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . ."

The angry roil of his emotions felt like stinging rain on her skin, and she could feel his restraint of them almost tangably. "Are you through?" He asked, his voice dead and cold, opening his strange eyes once more. The accusation in them was almost more then she could bear.

"I'm sorry." She repeated softly. "I didn't mean to cause you such pain." She longed to send a tendril of soothing thought his way, but decided that it would likely be ill-recieved.

"Well, you've had your look." He returned angrily. "Was it everything you hoped it would be?" He bent until they were nearly eye to eye, she forced herself to look steadily back, not to cry in the face of such pain, she had brought this upon herself, the least she could do was face him.

"Someone has hurt you." She said softly.

His gaze turned to one of utter contempt as he straightened up, hiding behind his hair with a practiced toss of his head. "That, " he said icily, "should be painfully obvious."

"No, I -- I didn't mean your face."

"What?"

"Your ka--your er, spirit . . ." She struggled for the words. "You don't have any barriers." She finally blurted. "Everyone has a natural mental defense, yours is . . . gone. Like it's been ripped away."

"Ripped away." He echoed, his voice barely audible. He turned away from her, shoulders hunched. She reached a hand out to touch his back, and he flinched away from the contact as if struck. "Don't touch me!" He growled in a sharp angry tone.

Almeria pulled her hand back slowly. "Let me help you." She pleaded softly.

"Help me?" He asked in a bitter tone, leaning his forhead against the cool brick. "I don't think I need any more of your 'help'."

"I can help you. If I don't, then you'll be defenseless against anyone with the Talent and the inclination to use it." She told him, her resolve firming.

"Like you?" He shot back, unmoving.

"Others like me, yes."

She felt a glimmer of hope as she felt his hesitation. "Are there many . . . others like you?" He asked softly.

"There are enough. They'll be drawn to you, as I was." She said and was rewarded by a fragment of puzzled surprise.

"As you were?" He asked, half turning back to her.

"I had a dream . . . and when I woke up I knew I had to come here. I didn't know why, but now I think I do." She confessed. The certainty within her was growing, the dream becoming clearer with each passing moment. Could this be her face in the shadows?

"You dreamed you had to come here?" His golden eyes brimmed with skeptcism as he turned to face her full on, leaning back against the wall.

"Dreams have power sometimes." She answered simply.

Shade shivered as if caught by an unexpected chill.

"Let me help you." She entreated once again. He looked at her for a long time, measuring her words, weighing them. She stood silent, her posture once again confident. She knew what he was seeing well enough. Her thick hair curling in a frizzled halo from the damp, her heart-shaped face with it's upturned nose that most people found unbearably cute. He lingered on her eyes, which she had been told were quite striking. Blue on the outside, grading to a rich green flecked with gold. Seer's eyes.

"You really think you can help me?" He spoke with a bitter twist of a smile his lips, tone mockingly doubtful.

"I do." She told him truthfully.

He chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment. "No more mind-tricks?"

"Not like that, no." She blinked as a fine rain began misting down. "I wouldn't do that to you again."

He nodded, a wariness still apparent. Here was one who's trust did not come easily.

They simply reguarded eachother for a moment until she finally said, "So, do you want to continue this somewhere less, er, damp?" She cursed her unpreparedness at not having brought her umbrella along, it was a cold evening, perched on the edge of winter.

He looked up as if noticing the rain for the first time. "I suppose we could." He said slowly.

"So you'll let me help you?" She asked, trying not to sound too hopefull.

"I didn't say that. I don't think you can, but . . ." He trailed off thoughtfully.

"But?"

"I guess I can at least hear what you have to say." He concluded with a sigh.

Almeria grinned broadly, unable to help herself. "Excellent. Do you know somewhere close by?" She asked as the rain began to pick up, soaking through her thin jacket in seconds.

They made their way quickly to a little coffeshop a couple blocks down the street. Almeria at a half-running trot, clutching her sodden jacket around her; Shade at an easy glide from shadow to shadow, his long leather coat keeping off the worst of the wet. He kept a sullen silence as they walked, his gaze turned inward, she could sense his disquiet. His hands were deep in his pockets, his collar turned up, it was clear in his every mannerism that he didn't want to go with her. Yet he did. She derived what hope she could from that simple thing, although she suspected that he feared that she would merely force him were he to refuse.

Almeria was shivering by the time they squelched over to the back corner table. The coffeeshop was low and dim and smoke filled, making her nose itch and her eyes water. Shade sat with his back to the wall, the scarred half of his face turned away from the prying eyes of the room. His eyes looked grey in the inadequate light, and they never left her face as he produced a battered pack of cigarettes and lit one, adding his own contribution to the haze around them. He seemed to be waiting on her to speak.

She sneezed, most ungracefully, muting it's force with her damp sleeve. Smoke always made her sneeze. "Um . . . yes, well, as I said before I ah-" she sneezed again. "I had a dream--" She broke off into a fit of sneezing, just as the waitress came up to the table.

"You okay?" She asked, a lilt of concern to her voice. She was a pretty little thing, Almeria noticed as she rubbed her watering eyes. Young and fresh looking, hair back in a casual ponytail. Probably a college student working her way through. Almeria nodded as reassuringly as she could. The girl shrugged, brandishing her battered note pad. "Well then, what'll you have?"

"Just tea for now." Almeria told her with a smile. "And a slice of lemon."

She could see Shade wrinke his nose faintly at her request, "Coffee. Black." He told the girl brusquely, not looking up from the table. The girl nodded and vanished into the kitchen, returning moments later with their order, then leaving again.

Almeria squeezed the lemon into the fragrent tea, stirring it and trying to get her thoughts in order. Shade said not a word, brooding over his coffee and chain-lighting another cigarette. Almeria sneezed again, wrapping her hands around the mug to warm them, her shivering abated somewhat. "Ah, where was I?" She wondered, more to herself then to Shade.

"Dreaming." He told her in the same flat tone in which he had addressed the waitress.

"Yes, well, right. I had a dream last night, of someone in dire peril of, of a spiritual nature you might say." She told him hesitatingly.

"You had a dream, so you came to the scummy part of town and got mugged?" He asked her sarcastically.

"I suppose it could be interpreted that way." Almeria said uncomfortably. Shade sighed out a lungful of smoke, making her sneeze again.

"So what does this have to do with me?" He wondered when she was through.

"Maybe nothing . . . but I don't think that. I think you need my help." She said, taking a sip of her tea.

"What makes you think I want it?" He asked, looking at her appraisingly for a moment.

Almeria was somewhat taken aback by this. For a moment she just stared back at him. "You don't want to be helped?"

"Don't need it." He replied, sipping his coffee, outwardly calm. He was beginning to regain his equilibrium now, more in control of his emotions. She could no longer feel their dance of anguish and mistrust on her skin, although she knew they were still there below the surface, like a dark undercurrent in a calm ocean. She intuitively knew this, knew she could well verify it with the slightest expendature of energy, but her head ached still, and she felt drained.

Best to just be diplomatic, she decided. "I've found that sometimes people need help whether they acknowlege it or not.:" She offered in what she hoped was a disarming fashion. Truthfully, she was chilled to the bone, and the pounding of her head was beginning to intensify. She rubbed her temples.

"Don't patronize me." Shade growled in a low, offended tone. "Why should I believe one word you're saying? I know what you're capable of. I can't stop you from fucking with my head, but I sure as hell don't have to put up with this mother-savior bullshit." The vehemanence in his tone stung her, the resolve in him flared, causing her headache to do likewise. "I've been 'helped' by people like you before, remember?"

So much for diplomacy. She thought with a mental sigh. His anger was like sitting too close to the stove, a wave of dizziness gripped her and she fought it grimly. "I'm not patronizing you." She said evenly, meeting his resentful gaze.

"Sounds like it."

"Well i'm not. I'm not fucking with your head either." She kept her voice steady, sipping her tea with a calmness that she didn't feel.

Shade laughed, a short harsh bark of sound. "Oh? What do you call it, then?"

"Listen, what happened in that alley was a mistake, and I'm sorry. It was instinctive, and not intentional, I didn't mean to upset you. You helped me out back there, possibly even saved my life-- now let me help you. I owe you that at least. Let me try." She met his eyes earnestly, hoping he would see the truth there.

He stared at her for a long moment, weighing her words. He reached for the battered pack of cigarettes and lit one thoughtfully, letting the smoke curl slowly from his mouth as he spoke. "How do you even know I'm the one you were seeking in that alley? How do you know it wasn't that bum? Or someone you never saw?"

Almeria hesitated, she knew full well that there was a possibility that she was wrong. She couldn't very well ask him whether or not he was human.

When she didn't speak, Shade nodded as if she had just confirmed something. "You don't know, do you?"

Silently Almeria shook her head. "No, not for sure."

"Well then, I think I'll be going. I've heard just about enough of this shit." Shade made as if to stand.

"Wait," she called softly, for the second time this evening, and again he waited, although she could feel a restlessness in him like caged tigers. "I could know, there is a way . . . if you'll let me."

His eyes immediately filled with suspicion, catching the light and gleaming gold as he shifted in his seat. "If I let you what?"

"Let me touch you, I -" But he was already shaking his head, his eyes blank and cold. "Usually I wouldn't need to, but I've done too much already, I'm too tired and besides I told you I wouldn't brush your mind again like that." She plowed on in a rush.

"I don't like being touched." He told her flatly, his face a perfect mask.

"We'll know, one way or another."

"No."

"If I'm wrong, I'll leave you alone, I promise. I need the physical contact to establish a link--"

"No."

"Oh for christ's sake, I'm not going to hurt you!" She snapped in an undertone, her head pounding furiously, making her words come too quickly.

For a split second she thought he was going to leave, or hit her, or both, so wildly furious was the glint in his eyes; but it was gone an instant later, replaced with a mild sort of mortification. He sighed, butting his cigarette in the ashtray, looking at his hands. He settled back in the chair with a sigh.

"Fine." He murmured, looking resigned and achingly tired.

"What?" The gambit of emotions left her feeling winded, almost disoriented.

"Go 'head. Find your answer." He said softly, not looking up.

Quickly, before he changed his mind, Almeria laid her hand atop his. She could feel the tension humming along his entire frame, contrasting strangely with his slouched demeanor. She closed her eyes and opened her senses. She could feel clearly now the confused turmoult of his emotions. He hated being touched because it always brought pain. He had loved the woman who had scarred him, and torn his soul asunder. He had belonged to her utterly, but in the end, it was by his hand that she had died . . . flashes coming faster now . . . Abandonment, abuse at a young age, his parents feared and hated his strangeness . . . strange because he-- "--wasn't human." She breathed, barely more then a whisper.

Shade jerked his hand away, breaking the contact with a snap that sent her reeling. She opened her eyes, trying to orient herself, and found herself staring into a pair of frightened golden ones. He was breathing hard, trembling slightly, rubbing his hand as if burned. Afraid to know how much she had seen.

For a moment all she could do was look at him. She could see him for true now, although it was quickly fading. His features were fine and angular in a way that his mortal guise only hinted at. His ears tapered to slender points, eyes shimmered a thousand shades of amber-gold. But the crowning glory were the wings. They crowded close behind him, slipped between layers of the coat, a leathery greenish grey, scarred and frayed, but they worked. They were real, huge even when tucked neatly back, like a bat's wings, or a dragon's.

"I See you." She murmured, the ancient phrase of her ancestors coming unbidden to her lips.

He shivered, drawing his wings -- already fading from her sight-- around him. A True-Dreamer. One of the fair folk. Fae. Her grandmother had told her stories of them as a child. Stories passed down from countless mouths, of how once the folk had lived freely in the world, when the world still had magic.

"You'll forget." Shade whispered, almost in defiance of her knowlege. "All humans do. It protects us. You'll forget." He repeated, his voice insistant.

Almeria laughed, a clear sound of amusement, with no underlying scorn. "Silly boy, what makes you think I'm human?"