Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, I don't think. If i did...well, you know. Heh.

I wasn't a big fan of the DG character and rather annoyed with how there was no reconcilliation of any of the romantic tensions in the mini-series. This is my take on it. New DG, tweaked story. It's a little darker and more complex, as far as emotions go. So... Tin Man re-re-imagined. Hope you enjoy.

PS: I dont do that whole K+ blue balls stuff, so this is gonna be listed as M for safety and mayeb MA later.

PPS: I can survive only with a steady supply of baby tears or feedback. So R&R... or else.


Dark Storm

Fear. Urgency. Cold; the bitter cold. A woman. She knew the woman, but didn't. Felt she must listen to her, but could not understand what it was she was supposed to do. It was all a blur, as always. The Woman with the lavender eyes, the need, and over all the chilling, soul-constricting fear.

"A storm is coming!"

DeeDee's body jerked and her eyes flew open. For a moment the fear ruled her, as it always did in the dream, then subsided. She relaxed with an irritated puff of air.

"Fuck." She hated that dream, but it was coming more and more often in the last few months. Almost every night. Why can't I have normal dreams, like everyone else? She used to have a recurring dream about Jurassic Park, which was scary, but not like this. DeeDee would have definitely preferred dinosaurs to the lavender-eyed woman who demanded things of her she did not understand.

She glance over at her alarm clock. Wonderful. It was 3:29pm, literally one minute before her alarm was set to go off. She clicked the Alarm-Off switch and tossed back her covers. As always, it took little time to get dressed and ready for work - an easy gig as night security at the town's textile plant. All she had to do was read and wander around for 9 hours a night. Best of all, the job required minimal contact with people. And if nothing else, DeeDee was not what you would call a people person. At least, not in this small mid-western town, with it's gossipy hens and half-drunk good ol' boys.

She sighed. Soon, she would finish the book she was working on (any of the books she was working on) and use the money to get the hell out of this god forsaken burg once and for all. Her mother might have liked the supposed small-town charm of the place, but DeeDee certainly did not.

Her mother was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes from lunch. She had a smile for her daughter, as always, though her eyes were sad. As always.

"You look tired," the copper-haired woman said. DeeDee had not told her mother about the disturbing dream that plagued her, because she had a tendency to worry. And the last thing DeeDee wanted to do was give her another thing to worry about. "I wish you'd get a normal job, Peanut."

DeeDee smirked at her mother. "It's a normal job. It's not like I'm a masked crime fighter."

"I just wish you weren't out there alone all night."

DeeDee gave her mother a reassuring smile, which, of course, never worked, but she did it anyway. "I'm not completely alone. I can always call the Sheriff on my radio if I have a problem. And," she paused. "I mean, really, who in this town would even want to break into that place anyway?"

Her mother, as always, looked unconvinced, but relented. DeeDee didn't like to make her worry, but refused to take a job as a waitress; which was the only other readily available job in this town, and completely out of the question. She dropped a kiss on her mother's cheek and headed out the door.

Fired. She was fired. They called it "layed-off," because they would hire her back as soon as they were able to afford her salary, but of course that meant fired. In this town, anyway. She knew too many people, her own mother included, who had been layed-off from that plant and promised they would be called back as soon as possible. Promises meant very little around these parts. To DeeDee not least of all.

She dropped into the recliner and turned on the TV, hoping some mindless late night television would be cathartic. As Conan O'Brien hopped and rowed and cavorted around his stage like a lovable idiot, DeeDee tried not to cry. It wasn't easy. She kept seeing in her head, as she drove home from the plant for what she was sure the last time, Em's Diner. The sign in the window read, in mocking red letters, "Waitress Wanted."

God, help me.

Outside, clouds were rolling in.