Diclaimer: I own neither Undertaker nor anyone else from the WWE. The idea for the story and the other characters are mine.

Chapter 1: The Four Seasons

It had been half a year since she was gone. Ann felt more tired than ever. Leaving the house even for work was becoming increasingly difficult. She had an arrangement with her boss saying she only needed to work half time as long as she was in mourning. Yet even that seemed too much to take. Or maybe not enough to care. She sat on the front porch steps, her coffee growing cold between her palms while the October sun failed to brighten the day. Sighing she took a small sip and then stood up. Knowing she was doing the wrong thing she picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number: "Hey Julie? Yes, this is Ann. Look, I'm not feeling very well and since it's Tuesday and there won't be much to do anyhow..." She didn't even feel guilty anymore.

Afterwards she didn't quite know what to do. Going shopping for food was a practical idea since her fridge was almost empty, yet she felt not up to it. Going back to bed was tempting, yet she knew the dreams would come back as soon as she hit the pillow. In the end she couldn't decide on anything and just went for a walk.

She followed the trail through the park, turning left out of the gates for her way back, through a small street with even smaller shops. She glanced through the windows not bothering to stop anywhere until she hit a crossroads. While she waited for the lights to change she noticed a new place. A motorcycle place. Unconsciously she walked up to the first row of bikes. A milk-white Titan sparkled in the sun in front of her. Hesitantly she touched the black leather of the seat. It felt smooth and warm, almost like a caress.

"That lady needs a careful hand!" someone very close to her remarked. When her breath hitched the voice continued in the deep slurring bass of a born southerner: "Sorry, didn't want ta scare ya."

She turned around and saw herself in front of a huge chest covered by a plain black shirt. When she looked up she found a huge neck and impressive face to go with the chest. His hair was of a flaming red streaked with icy silver threads. He wore it long and loosely braided. His eyes shone in a deep green that seemed to be telling tales of summer time in the north, up in the woods. She could almost smell the moss and feel the crystal clear cold of a deep lake.

For the longest moment she just looked at him trying to figure out the odd array of seasons he seemed to be made of.

When the silence grew too heavy she noticed she'd been staring at him. But instead of tearing her gaze away she held his for another breath, wondering why she would find anything or anyone on this earth interesting enough to stare. Then she finally looked back at the bike.

"She is a flirt. Easy going but if you ain't careful she'll burn your ass away."

The four seasons guy raised an eyebrow and gave her a wondering look. After a minute's silence he asked: "Want to test her?"

She shook her head no. "My sister's the biker in the family. She had a Titan like that. Blood red though."

"Did she sell it? Haven't ever heard of anyone parting from a lady like that one."

"Well, she did. Part, not sell it. She's dead."

He was silent which she was thankful for. She hated nothing more than well-meant yet empty consolations about her loss.

"You could still test the lady here. I'll drive for the first start if you want."

He waited patiently for her answer while she was thinking. She thought she could make out faint ripples in the deep ponds of his eyes. Like some disturbance far below the waterline struggled to break to the top. Yet the eyes were warm and alert to her reactions.

"Alright", she finally nodded.