AN: This is going to be a nonlinear fanfic. Aka, that means that not all events are going to be in order of occurrence. In fact, this chapter is almost the end. Now, you just have to work your way back to find out what happened. This is a Trent/Rachel fic- love it or leave it!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, Kim Harrison does.

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The cold autumn air blew dead, brown leaves onto the obsidian casket. The grey sky above reflected the grief and misery of the gathered people (and pixies!) below. The soft sound of weeping echoed in the empty air.

Ivy stared blankly at the piece of wood that held her most beloved friend, Rachel, who had now passed on. She closed her eyes tightly, fighting down the pain and misery that was threatening to overthrow her normal calm.

Jenks sat upon Ivy’s shoulder, moping. His wings were a depressed dark blue, twitching unhappily. “She should have never gone alone, Ivy. Why didn’t she take better care of herself?”

Ivy shook her head. “I don’t know, Jenks. I just don’t know. I don’t want to think about it right now, ok?” She knew her voice was tight, strained.

She glanced over at Rachel’s parents, her mom holding on to Donald tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. Takata himself looked like he was choking down his tears, much like Ivy.

It was the sudden sound of a car that made Ivy turn around. She felt her face turn twist in anger. There, at the gates of the cemetery, was a black limo, which could mean only one thing; Trent had come to the funeral.

Jonathon raced around the limo to the rear door and opened it and Ivy watched as a highly polished shoe made its first step out of the car. The other shoe followed, and then Trent’s blonde head was out for all to see.

Ivy noted the solemn black jacket he wore over his clothing; he had dressed down for the occasion. How considerate of him. She watched his face as he stepped onto the cemetery soil, watching his slow measured steps as he approached the small crowd. His face was drawn, unusually so.

There were dark circles around his green eyes, which also happened to be bloodshot. Ivy frowned; what in Turn was he doing here? He walked silently to an open spot beside the coffin, standing by himself. He looked lost and for once completely unsure of himself.

Ivy’s vampire nose told her that tears had already been shed before this appearance.

She sniffed the air again, completely sure she was smelling things wrong. She sighed, knowing that it was entirely possible that he had cried; who was she to decide what Trent had done before showing his elf ass at Rachel’s funeral?

While the casket was being lowered into the grave, some of the gathered people came forward to throw a flower or two in with the casket. When there was less people surrounding the grave, Trent stepped forward and pulled out three roses, two yellow, and one, to Ivy’s shock, was red.

When the crowd began to thin, Trent remained standing over the grave sullenly. He reminded Ivy of a pouting child, a child who had been denied their right to a toy. She walked over to him, her feet making no noise upon the grass.

Trent started when a soft, sibilant voice spoke from somewhere behind him. “So, the infamous Trent Kalamack has graced us with his presence. To what do we owe this honor?”

He turned slowly, looking at Ivy with an arrogance that had not been present before. He smoothed a hand over his hair and attempted to look at her haughtily. It was a bad attempt on his part. Ivy could see the exhaustion hanging like a cloud in his forest green eyes.

“I…I came to say goodbye. Is that a crime?”

Ivy felt one of her eyebrows raise, amused. Trent Kalamack stuttering? What a sound to hear. It almost made her day. Almost. “There is no reason for you to be here. How about you take your elf ass out those cemetery gates and never look back? She wasn’t your friend, Kalamack, you don’t need to pretend she was.”

His eyes became flint cold upon her face. “She was one of the few people I ever counted on to be there for me. She may not have supported anything that I have done or what I do, but knowing she was there to help was all that mattered. She did her job well.”

Ivy sneered. “Was that all she was to you? A job well done?”

His green eyes were piercing. “No, she’s the person who saw me through. She helped make my ends meet.”

He stepped closer to Ivy so that they were nearly nose to nose. She could smell his anger at her, and his anger at Rachel…his anger at Rachel for leaving. Ivy noted the absence of cologne. “As I said,” Ivy replied, “she helped you get the job done.”

Trent’s ears went slightly red. His voice dropped to a vehement hiss. “Don’t ever pretend you know what she was to me!”

Ivy watched his retreating back, the stiff lilt to his gait. “It’s true that I don’t know, but I do have an idea.” She whispered to no one.

There was a pause, and then Ivy decided to announce her knowledge of what had happened a few nights before Rachel went on the suicidal mission that got her killed. “That night she came home, Trent.”

She watched in cold satisfaction as he tensed, pausing his stride.

“I could smell you all over her.”

His hands clenched into fists, his body shaking furiously. She saw his eyes grow dark with grief momentarily. He spun on his heel quickly so that she could not analyze his reaction any further and ignored the comment. Ivy smiled to herself; he had been beating himself up mentally.

After all, he was the reason that Rachel was dead.

AN: Chapter 2 is already done- no worries! Just let me know what you thought of this! And I'm sorry I knocked Rachel off, I love her to death! She will be back (in the past) next chapter!