On another Fan Board we thought this would be a good way to introduce readers to writers.

The plan is to go through all the episodes...sometimes plans don't go as we think...

1. A drabble is 100 words.

2. A Moonlight (canon) character needs to appear, although like Vampfan5's Travis, that character may do unexpected things. It may be a slice of life from a writer's world.

3. PG13 is the limit.

4. This challenge would be to tell an alternate story or missing scene using the title in the mini story.

Out of the Past

The building was dark. Floor after Floor of unlit office space stood capped by an opulently decorated office for a perennially young man.

"Mr. Kostan, this is Berkins from Legal" delivering displeasure out of the past.

"Berkins, what quagmire have we waded into tonight?" Josef queried.

"He'll be released this week" flat anonymous words between two in "the know".

"Beth Turner, move her closer." Josef commanded. "Keep her close to St John; it will all work out. . . . . in the end". Josef doodled the Yin, the Yang.

It was true, If Mick were "Yang", Beth was "Yin".


"Another time" I cast her out.

Yet inside, I held her inquisitive heart in my hands.

Was I ready to fess up, admit my shadowing her? Not yet, only because I never wanted to be seen as her stalker. I had to massage that truth when I truly wanted to massage her lips.

I wanted to beat a path to her balcony and demonstrate that Medic Mick would gladly be her "Dr. Feelgood".


"At some point, you're going to have to stop me."

The child had grown up. I didn't want the woman like this. The timing was "off". My grim nature ate away at all that jazz you could call the beginnings of what we were developing between us. I'd have to get into the "Wayback machine" to erase the memories of this incident between us.

For survival I had to look at her like "food", subtract all the sensation, all the fever and hope she could stop me. And yes, she would have to stop me.


The sweep of her hair, the swish of her hips wand the sum total of Beth's parts tipped my world on end.

Here I was following the trail of an adolescent serial killer frozen in time and I was the one yearning behind closed doors for all that Beth is.

For us moonlight did not equate to love songs, it meant homicide. Homicide clues that argued with my libido, my undead heart skipped a beat each time I saw her scrutinizing "G" at the morgue.

In the formalin laden atmosphere she consumed me.

Was that my arrested development?