So, what happens when Cain the author dreams about -man? Nothing good whatsoever. These are a couple of dreams I've had the past few months. Yes, they were so effing traumatic, I could remember them. I have skipped the non-DGM stuff that was in the dream – ADD minds also stop paying attention in dreams. So, enjoy dream-randomness. And don't do drugs.

Includes two OCs, which are Raising-Cain and I, and hints at AllenxOC and KandaxOC. And devastating amounts of randomness.

I do not own -man, cuz if I did, Lou Fa would have never existed. I find her annoying.

Note: Raising-Cain was also in my dreams, so for naming sake, she will be called Manami (she likes Japanese names). And I will be Bryony (because I like this name), talking in first person.

The F word is being censored by the word 'eff'.

A warning to future dreamers: NEVER watch -man whilst eating chocolate at two in the morning. You WILL get crazy DGM dreams.

I walked through the halls of the Black Order, oblivious to the noise under my feet. Obviously Komui was cooking up another Komurin. I shuddered to think what this one could do. Homing missiles? Machine guns? Or even worse – cheese launchers?

Pushing the dark cheese related thoughts out of my mind, I walked into my room, wanting to change into something warmer. You'd think they'd make the uniform with thermals. My hand thudded against the back wall of my closet. I frantically shifted it left and right, to at least find one article of clothing. I did find one, and pulled it out.

My jaw dropped in horror. A dress. And not just any dress; a tango dress. It was ice white, with a cerulean sea pattern running across the front. The frills were hemmed with Arctic blue. I turned it, pleading to the tango gods that the back wasn't too deep. Evidently, the gods were on holiday, and had let all prayers go the answer phone. The back was miserably deep, with a skin tone strap holding it together. I assumed the accessories were supposed to don my arms, giving me a floating illusion. If only I could have used the choker to choke the person who did this.

Since it was the only thing I had left, I forced the dress on. There was only one person who knew my size – Lenalee. My plans for painful revenge were stopped immediately. If I even move a single hair out of place on Lenalee's head, Komui would push me off the cliff.

As I walked through the halls, still in my combat boots, I realized something. Everyone was dressed up! Did Lenalee sabotage every exorcist here?

"Bryony!"

I spun around; about to hurl a comeback if an insult was thrown. Instead, my jaw dropped for a second time.

"Manami, not you too!"

Yes, my best friend stood in a sparkly black tango dress, looking positively murderous. It was a faux sleeveless, with the collarbone and shoulders covered in a clear, sequined material. The jet cloth hanging from her arms rippled with every stride. I could hear the clunk of her combat boots as she came nearer.

"It was Lenalee, wasn't it?" she asked, in a venomous voice.

I held my hands up in defence. "Manami, use your scary voice at Hallowe'en, not now. Everyone's headed to the cafeteria. Maybe we'll get an answer there."

We came through the cafeteria, to be greeted with seas of tango costumes and hordes of tuxedos. I spotted Allen and Kanda, arguing at the punch bowl.

"I was here first, Kanda!"

"Che, Moyashi. I was."

"My name is Allen, BaKanda!"

"Whatever, baka Moyashi."

Manami came between them. "Hi guys! What's going on, do you know?"

Kanda ignored her, and turned to face me. His expression was nothing short of emo, but that wasn't what had my attention. Okay, picture Kanda in the best tuxedo you've ever seen. Then picture him in a better one. Then stop picturing him, he's mine.

His eyes did a once over at my dress. "Che. Lenalee should never shop for you again."

For once, I agreed with him. But like hell was I going to say it and give him the satisfaction!

"Right back at you. Seriously, who picked your tux out? King Kong?"

He just rolled his eyes, and I wished I would've held my tongue. That is by far the lamest insult I have ever told him. King Kong? What, my brain can't stretch as far as Godzilla?

Just then, Komui burst through the room, carrying the biggest muffin in the world. It had candles in it, and – unfortunately, I wasn't mistaken – was singing 'Happy Birthday' in Komui's, erm, less than savoury singing tone. I groaned, as the birthday girl walked in. Lenalee was a dress that might as well have been made for anime fanservice characters.

"Welcome to my fantabulous birthday tango! Everyone, pick a partner, and let the tango begin!" she spoke in a loud, bubbly, 'makes-me-wants-to-barf' voice.

Immediately, people linked arms and began the complicated Latin routine...apart from Lavi. I stifled a snigger as I watched the red-haired exorcist sway side to side on a chair, wearing pink rabbit ears. I have to say, it was a great addition to the all pink tuxedo. My annoyance towards Lenalee diminished slightly.

I sat down as well, determined not to dance. The only people left were Allen and Kanda, so I was left with two unpleasant consequences:

Manami would kill me if I danced with Allen (not that she will EVER admit that she drools for Allen, and vice versa!)

I would kill myself if I danced with Kanda (and don't you DARE say otherwise...)

It wasn't long before Allen, his red face shining with embarrassment beneath the shock of white hair, mumbled an invitation to the dance floor to Manami. She blushed, and hesitantly took his gloved hand. They glided across the floor elegantly. I didn't even know that the pair knew tango. Well, that left me with Kanda, so option number two was wide open. Umm, no, I do not have a death wish.

The long-haired exorcist stopped leaning against the snack table like an emo, and came to sit next to me. That was my cue to ignore Kanda, whatever he said. I turned slightly, making sure that his face was not in my line of vision. But I could still hear him muttering a string of curses, mostly about why the eff did he come here in an effing tux if he wasn't going to effing dance. It effing drove him up the effing wall. And that effing Moyashi...and so it carried on.

"Oi, Bryony," Kanda snapped suddenly.

My plan to ignore him went out of Black Order's top window. "What?"

Instantly, Kanda was on his feet, and he grabbed my hand. "We're dancing."

I was in too much shock to register myself being pulled onto the dance floor, or even whose hand was holding mine. At least I got over the haze quickly.

WHACK!

Kanda's hand slipped off as I executed a perfect punch to his shoulder.

"What was that for?"

"What the eff are you doing, idiot? First you tell me 'we're dancing' without asking if I wanted to, then you man-handle me, and now you have the nerve to ask me 'what did you do that for'?"

The Latin music seemed to grow quieter for me. Kanda's face went through surprise, annoyance and stony, before settling on stony.

"Would you like to dance?"

000000000000000000000000000

And that was when I woke up to the sound of a car alarm.

Yep, that was it. Sorry if you found it boring, but I wanted to share this. If people like it, I'll keep going. If people don't like it...I'll still keep going. I think my other dreams are better than this one, but this was the most recent (this morning!). Oh, and I am not the nicest person to Lenalee.

The tango dresses that Raising-Cain and I wore are shown on these links.

My dress: .com/adimg/tango/tango_

Raising-Cain's dress: .com/ballroom_

Please review!