DISCLAIMER: Cirque Du Freak belongs to Darren Shan.

A/N: I've had this idea for a long time, but I recently re-read the series and had an overwhelming desire to actually write down and post this fic.

-- White Lines --

Debbie was worried. Earlier today, when they'd been reviewing battle plans, Alice's sleeve had slid up, revealing a row of white lines on her wrist. Debbie hadn't asked her about it then, had acted like she hadn't even noticed. But she was worried. Was the older woman relieving stress by cutting herself? Maybe the pressure was too much for the former police chief after all. Debbie didn't know what to do. She'd talk to Darren about it...

But when she told Darren about it, he told her she didn't have anything to be worried about.

"But Darren, those scars on her wrist..." Debbie protested.

Darren snickered.

"It's not funny!" she snapped.

"Yes, it is," Darren answered through his giggles. "I'll show you, tonight."

And the next morning...

Vancha cornered Darren - alone - and asked, "What were you and Debbie doing, sneaking around and spying on us last night?"

"Sorry," Darren said sheepishly. "Debbie saw the scars on Alice's wrist and was wondering where they came from..."

"And... you thought just telling her wouldn't have worked well enough?"

Darren facepalmed. He hadn't actually thought of that.

-end-

A/N: In case you didn't get it, Alice's scars are from where she's letting Vancha feed off of her.