(no subject)
Title: Guilty Pleasures, The SGA Remix 1/?
Author:
alena_malfoy
Rating: R
Pairing: John/Rodney
Summary: My name is John Sheppard, and I kill vampires for a living.
Wordcount: 10000
Spoilers: General spoilers up to season 4 for SGA, GP for Anita Blake.
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and the Anita Blake series belong to MGM and Laurel K Hamilton. I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing.
Warnings: AU, WIP, Abandoned
Author's Notes: This is based on LKH's Guilty Pleasures, but it has its own plot, I'm only borrowing the most basic facts, and is inspired by scribblinlenore 's "There's A New Kid in Town". Huge thanks to my beta, jya_bd_cp_ttgb
I'd known Peter Kavanaugh for a year before he'd died. While he'd been a jerk then, I had the displeasure to discover that he'd gotten even more conceited now that he'd become a vampire.
I guess that if even death was unable to beat the arrogance out of him, nothing would. He sat across from me, sprawling in a faux-nonchalant way in his chair. I sprawled right back. I wasn't about to be bested at slouching by a vampire, and a slimy one at that.
Silence built, as he obviously waited for me to ask him what he wanted. Unfortunately for him, my patience was fuelled by stubbornness, which had gotten me pretty far in life. Whilst we sat twiddling out thumbs, I made a show of not looking at him, looking instead at my desk, the walls, and even the stupid fruit portrait that was hung in front of me. Elizabeth, my boss, thought it would make the clients feel at home.
I thought it made me hungry.
Finally he broke the silence. "Aren't you the least bit curious?" he asked.
"No." Maybe if I was rude, he'd go away faster? I began mentally coming up with an equation to calculate the degree of rudeness necessary to make this meeting last the least time possible.
"Well, you should be," he smirked, getting a cigar from his inner pocket. I silently pointed at the no-smoking sign on the wall. He made a face. I secretly thanked Elizabeth's health obsession as he put it back.
"I'm here to become a client, Mr. Sheppard," he informed me. I raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Yeah, right.
"You're a vampire. I kind of doubt you need me to raise the dead for you," I drawled. He frowned, displeased. I guess it was a good thing I'd refrained from giving in to my first impulse, which was to call his bullshit for what it was.
"That's not what I want to hire you for. I need you to investigate some murders."
"I'm pretty sure it says Animator in my job description, not P.I," I answered, leaning back on my chair some more. I enjoyed watching his face get more annoyed by the minute. "But if you really insist, I guess I can give you the name of a very good private investigator.”
"I'm sure Ms. Emmagen is very competent, but she doesn't know vampires the way you do."
"Why would she need to?" My spidey sense went from tingling to full on blaring. Yeah, I really didn't like where this was headed. His smirk came back full force. I kept my face blank and professional. Well, mostly professional.
"Four vampires were found murdered on the District. Their heads were cut off. But then you already knew that, didn't you, Mister Sheppard?"
I didn't answer him.
"You were called in to consult on the matter by the spook squad, weren't you?"
I didn't have to wonder where he got that from, since the murder of four vampires was pretty big news. It had made the front pages of all the major newspapers, right along with the fact that I'd been called in by the police to investigate.
“Gee, you can actually read? Color me impressed. So what part of ‘no comment' didn't you get?” I said, tilting my head to the side inquisitively.
He ignored me. "The cops couldn't give a damn. Vampires are already dead, so is it really murder after all? Isn't that what they think?"
I shrugged. Since Addison v. Clarke, the court case which allowed vampires to become legal citizens of the USA, our beliefs have been altered irrevocably. Two years after the verdict, the damn thing was still giving the courts a migraine. Served them right. Making vampires legal was probably the stupidest decision they ever made. And that’s saying something.
"We need your expertise on the case, Mr. Sheppard. You are reputed to be the best in the business, after all," he continued. I had to give him that, he certainly knew how to kiss ass. A useful skill in his line of work, I'm sure.
"We?" I asked. "And who would that be, Kavanaugh?"
All the animation drained from his face, as if he was able to switch off his emotions on command. Another pesky vampire trait I hated. "That's not important." Of course, I already knew that Kavanaugh was merely the running boy to a much bigger fish, but his reaction was interesting nonetheless.
"Listen, we can offer you a lot of money. Three times your habitual fee."
It was an impressive offer. Too bad for him money was the last of my troubles, but it did explain why Elizabeth had set up the meeting despite her general dislike of vampires. She was not the sort of woman to let her personal feelings stand in the way of a good business deal.
"It's not about the money, Kavanaugh. I'm sorry, but I can't take you case."
I stood up, signaling the end of the interview, but he stayed stubbornly seated. I sighed, and began walking around the desk and towards the door. “Look, Kavanaugh, I have another client waiting for me here, a real client, and I really don't have the time to waste on-"
I stopped. Kavanaugh had moved with preternatural speed, and was suddenly standing in front of me, blocking my way. I took a swift step back, and snuck a glance at the desk drawer where I kept my gun hidden. At this distance, he'd probably get me before I could reach it if I made a sudden move.
Stuck, I glared at him, taking care not to actually meet his gaze directly. I used my anger to mask the fact that my stomach was tied in a painful knot, though I knew that he could probably smell my fear. Damn vampires and their heightened senses.
I expected him to look arrogant or threatening, but he looked actually nervous.
"Why won't you at least consider it? We can pay you more, if that's what you want."
"It's not about the money. I don't work for vampires. It's a thing." His face fell, and I actually felt pity for him for a moment. Didn‘t stop me from inching my way towards my desk though.
"You should consider rethinking it, in that case. For your own good."
The pity urge passed. "And I think you should think twice before threatening me." I was in lunging distance of the drawer now, plus I had surprise on my side, so my chances of actually using the gun before he could kill me were pretty good. Or at least not phenomenally awful.
Kavanaugh took a step back. Apparently, he wasn't that stupid, and had probably figured out my threat wasn't so empty anymore. While I'd like to think I scared him, he most likely just didn't want to bother with the mess. I watched him move back a few more steps in terse silence, before letting myself slowly relax. At least, on the outside, because I was silently cursing myself for letting my guard down with a vampire, even if it was one I'd know while human.
Keeping my eyes on Kavanaugh, I got behind my desk, discretely inching my drawer open and getting a hand on the butt of my gun. I felt immediately better. I gave Kavanaugh the best glare I could manage, which under the circumstances was pretty damn good, and put my other hand threateningly near the intercom, ready to call for security.
"I believe you know the way out," I snapped. Kavanaugh followed the motion of my hand, and with a constipated expression, turned on his heels and got out. I totally expected him to slam the door behind him or something as ridiculously dramatic, but he actually left it wide open. Sleazy bastard.
Grinding my teeth, I waited until I was sure Kavanaugh had left before crossing the room, the gun securely held in my hand. I could see Walter, our night secretary, giving me a curious look before the door closed. I shook my head and ran my hand through my hair. Being threatened by Kavanaugh of all people, or rather vampires, wasn't exactly my idea of a jolly time. I reminded myself to have a little chat with Elizabeth about sending me vampire clients, even if they were paying the big bucks.
I stuck the gun it in its holster, slapped on my jacket, and tried to remember anything I might need and didn’t have. Chicken? Check. Machete? Check. Car keys? No check. I went back to my office and searched around a bit until I got them, then headed out again.
I gave Walter, who was doing a pretty good job of trying to appear as if he hadn't been laughing at me, a half-assed salute as I passed his desk. I could hear him still chuckling as the door closed behind me. Thanks to Kavanaugh’s little temper tantrum, I was running late. Oh well, here’s hoping I haven’t pissed off the Traffic Gods.
*****************************
As I drove back home from the cemetery, I silently thanked god for the fact that tomorrow was my day off. I seriously needed the rest after spending the last six hours in the company of lawyers, a weeping widow and a zombie.
It said a lot that I found the zombie the least horrifying of the bunch.
My cell phone rang, the Star Trek anthem muffled from I'd stuffed it somewhere in my pocket. I let go of the wheel with one hand to get it out, and thumbed it open after checking the caller ID. I probably shouldn’t be talking on the phone while driving, but hey, the road was empty and I was feeling reckless.
"Hey, Teyla, I'm on my way home, shouldn't be long now."
Teyla Emmagen was a talented P.I, a kick-ass woman and my temporary roommate. At least, for as long as it took to get her apartment renovated. She also tended to worry about me when I was late coming back, though she'd never say it outright.
"That is good, John. Drive safely." Her voice was as calm as ever, not betraying the slightest hint of worry despite the late hour, and I smiled.
"Sure thing," I answered, but she'd already hung up. She was also a very succinct woman.
Finally, I arrived home and parked the car behind Teyla's black Volvo. I walked up like a zombie to my flat, no pun intended, and was greeted by the sight of the dinner Teyla had left for me on the table. A glance toward her room showed me that her door was closed, as she'd probably gotten into bed after our conversation.
I ate quickly, thankful for Teyla's thoughtfulness, and got ready for bed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
A sound woke me up. I opened bleary eyes and flinched when the morning light hit me full on. A quick look at the time told me that it was ten past eight, and I'd been asleep for less than three hours. I buried my head under the pillow, doing my best to ignore it and trying to go back to sleep.
After a minute, I gave up. Damn my pesky conscience. Bleary-eyed, I fumbled for the cell phone, and looked at the number on the screen for a minute. With a curse, I shook off my surprise and answered quickly, trying at the same time to extricate myself from the heavy covers and mentally locating my last clean shirt and car keys. Laundry day would have to wait, as I doubted my ex-wife's office was calling me to -
"Hello! Is this John Sheppard?"
I stopped my losing contest against the entangled covers and frowned. The voice on the other end was suspiciously cheerful and bubbly, considering this was supposed to be an emergency.
"Yeah, that's me." I passed my hand over my face quickly, trying to scrub off the last remnants of sleep.
"I'm Sora Tyrus." An expectant pause. "I work with Nancy Sheppard? We met at her promotion party two months ago."
I could feel myself getting more annoyed by the minute. Sarah, or whatever her name was, could probably feel it because she hurriedly went on. "As you know, Nancy is getting married next month, and I thought I could organize a bachelorette party for her."
A bachelorette party. Right. I was happy for Nancy, really, but that didn't mean I particularly appreciated being reminded of it, even less after being awakened from too little sleep because of it. "Aren't bachelorette parties supposed to be a party between, you know, women?"
She laughed. I was sure she could hear my molars grinding on the other end. "I know. But we need a designated driver, and I thought Nancy would like you to be there. "
I've known Nancy since we were kids. By the age of twenty, we were already married. It'd seemed life the right thing to do at the time. But while I loved Nancy, I wasn't in love with her, and she'd known it. A year after, we decided to part ways, and we'd stayed good friends ever since. So yes, Nancy would probably like me to come.
"Sure thing. Do you want me to pick you up at Nancy's?" I made a face, mentally kissing my relaxing night off goodbye.
"That would be great, thanks! We'll be ready by six."
We said our goodbyes and hung up. I sighed. I couldn't believe I'd just been roped into going to my ex-wife's bachelorette party. That's why I hated morning people. They inevitably ended up taking advantage of my slow state to saddle me with things I would never agree to otherwise.
Oh well. There were worse things than watching my ex-wife celebrate the fact that she'd found happiness where I failed and be all radiant and glowing and-
Yeah.
I pulled up the covers up to my ears and closed my eyes resolutely. Unsurprisingly, sleep seemed a lot more elusive now.
**************************
I couldn't help but stare at the white button pinned on Sora's blouse that proclaimed "vampires have feelings too". Sora had giggled each time she'd caught me staring.
I guess she thought I was checking her out.
We'd parked the car a few blocks over, after coming out from the restaurant. It was only the three of us, for which Sora had profusely apologized. Apparently, everyone else had other engagements and couldn't come on such short notice. I refused to consider that as a reflection on the state of my personal life.
Nancy was holding my elbow while we walked leisurely, the hem of her red dress brushing my leg with each footstep. Red had always been her color, and she looked stunning with her long hair set loose across her bare shoulders.
Sora was walking ahead of us, twirling her blonde curls and looking back at us from time to time then giggling.
"I think she's had too much to drink," said Nancy in a soft voice.
I smirked. "Yeah, that must be it."
Nancy frowned for a second before hitting me on the arm. "Be nice. She'd not bad, just-"
"An airhead?" I interrupted. Nancy groaned, and shook her head.
"You shouldn't be so hard on people. Not everybody can meet your high standards, you know."
Not even me, she didn't add, but I still heard it just as clearly. We stayed quiet for most of the walk down after that. I didn't know what to say, or rather, I didn't know what to say without hurting her even more than I'd already done.
"Nancy-" I began, but Sora chose that moment to turn back. "Come on, we're nearly there," she called.
I looked down at Nancy, but she shook her head, and let go of my elbow to amble up ahead, glancing over her shoulder at me with a mischievous smile.
"Come on John; let's see what the surprise is."
I actually had a pretty good clue about where we were going, now that I’d gotten my head out of my ass and taken a good look at the neighborhood. The Blood District. Oh joy. Even better, I made it around the corner just then and came face to face with a swirling neon sign the color of heart blood. Yeah, I needed to be here like I needed two holes in my neck.
Come on Sheppard, think. How do you get yourself, and the others, out of here without looking like a complete bastard?
By the time I joined Nancy and Sora, I still hadn't found a way. "Welcome to Guilty Pleasures," Sora declared, then sauntered up ahead to the big, very big, vampire guarding the entrance. "Teal'c!" she called. He gave her an impassive nod.
"Welcome, Sora Tyrus," he said, face perfectly expressionless. He had stoicism down to an art form, but he wasn't the oldest vampire I'd ever met. He couldn't have been dead for more than seventy years, tops. "Your table is waiting," he informed her in a deep voice.
I raised an eyebrow. Maybe Sora walked in better circles than I'd first guessed. But before I could wonder at the suspicious feeling that was nagging at me, Nancy took me by the elbow and dragged me inside, right past the "No crosses, crucifixes, or other holy items allowed inside" sign, which was a-ok by me.
We found ourselves in some sort of foyer, where a girl no more than twenty blocked our way, and came to collect our holy items. Before I could flip my wristband and hide the cross stitched onto it, I heard an unfortunately familiar voice coming from right behind us.
And me without my gun. Damn it.
"Sheppard. What a surprise."
I closed my eyes, grimacing slightly. When I opened them again, I found Sora and Nancy looking between me and the figure at my back with bemusement.
I turned around to look at the voice owner and club proprietor. "McKay," I nodded coldly. He was standing with his arms crossed, expression an interesting blend of belligerence and surprise.
I glared right back.
Rodney McKay was two hundred and fifty years old, and the most talented vampire at faking humanity I'd ever met. So talented in fact, that I'd only discovered it until it'd been too late.
I quickly blocked the memory and schooled my face to blankness, but he'd already seen the emotions that particular memory evoked in me.
He smirked, a smug and haughty smile that made me want to punch him in the face. I refrained, and not only because he was an immortal vampire who could cut my throat and drink my blood before I could finish blinking. I just didn't want to give him the satisfaction that reaction would bring.
"I'm sorry, but you must surrender all holy items before entering the club," he said. He didn't sound sorry at all. If anything, he sounded gleeful.
Nancy unclasped the silver chain she wore around her neck and gave the delicate cross to the holy item check girl. They looked at me. I stared at McKay. I was wearing a black v-neck shirt and they could obviously see that I wasn't wearing a chain.
"Come on, Sheppard, let's not do this. Stop being so damn stubborn," he finally said.
"You didn't object to my wearing it last time," I shot back before thinking. He laughed. It was an utterly human sound, but that didn't mean he was powerless. Far from it.
He looked at me from head to toe. "I was…otherwise occupied at the time." McKay's tone had been bland, but I could still feel myself blush. "You were here on police business after all," he finished, looking triumphant at my response.
Yeah, the last time I'd reluctantly set foot in Guilty Pleasures, it'd been to investigate the vampire murders, which had occurred a few blocks farther away. I'd enjoyed that visit even less than this one, but at least then I could hide behind the veneer of professionalism.
"Fine," I relented, and reached for my left wrist. The wristband had been a gift from my brother, and I'd worn it for so long it now felt like a part of me. When I'd gotten into the vampire business, I had a tiny cross sewn into it.
Luckily, in this particular case, size really didn't matter. It was the faith behind the cross that gave it power. An atheist waving a cross at a vampire would have as much effect as him shouting 'please, don't bite me'.
While the sentiment was nice, the effect was unfortunately lacking.
I glared at the holy item girl who scampered off quickly with my wristband, then transferred my glare to its deserving subject.
Or rather to his chin, because I was certain that McKay was only waiting for the right opportunity to roll my mind, and looking him in the eyes would be tantamount to serving myself up to him on a gold platter.
The girl came back and gave us a check, and we went inside quickly. The last thing I needed was to give Nancy the opportunity to ask me how I knew McKay, or even worse, how he knew I wore a cross at such an unlikely place. I resolutely didn't look back at the vampire behind me, even if I could still feel his gaze drilling a hole through my back.
****************************
Nancy's face when she discovered that Guilty Pleasures was a vampire strip club was probably the highlight of my evening.
Our table was by the stage, for which we received many jealous looks and a few weird ones at my presence. The crowd was mostly made up of women, but I could see a few men scattered here and there.
The lights went off, and a sensual voice came out of the darkness, whispering tempting propositions of carnal pleasures to the crowd. I didn't hear a word of it.
It was McKay's voice, but it was very different from the one we'd heard earlier. This one was imbued with power, rolling the audience's mind effortlessly. All my concentration went into ignoring the effect it had on me.
"Ford is with us, tonight," he finished, and the crowd burst into applause. The lights came back on, and a lone figure on the stage could be seen.
I couldn't help but stare along with the rest of the public. He was wearing black jeans, boots and a muscle shirt, but that wasn't what made me stare.
The left side of his arm was scarred. From vampire bites.
The music came on, and he began swaying sensually to its rhythm. As he moved, I could see that the scars littered his neck as well as his other arm. I stared in horrified silence.
"Isn't he a thing of beauty?" I heard Sora whisper in an awestruck tone. I turned my horrified gaze to her.
Before I could answer her, I felt Nancy's hand come up to clutch my elbow. I looked down at her. She was looking at the stage too, as if unable to move her gaze, but thankfully she looked more appalled than fascinated.
I didn't particularly like PDAs, or touching in general, but I put my hand over hers, offering her whatever comfort I could. I looked back at the stage in time to see that Ford was standing above us, and that Sora was putting bills in his waistband, while she peppered his scarred chest with kisses. I looked closer. Or rather bites.
I closed my eyes in despair, then opened them immediately afterwards. Ford had moved away to another client, and the crowd was still looking on in fascination. Nancy gasped in pain, and I looked down to see that I was squeezing her hand hard. I forced myself to relax. Nancy went back to looking at the show.
After a few more minutes, I gave up. Gently, I extricated myself from Nancy's grasp and stoop up as subtly as possible, which wasn't very much. Nancy gave me a questioning look, and I mouthed the words 'bathroom break' at her. She nodded her head, and I made my way between the tables crammed with ecstatic women until I reached the hallway I knew led to the bathrooms.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Blessed silence at last. Leaning my head back against the cold wall, I let myself enjoy the break from the music and the screaming women and the poor kid who looked like a happy meal, vampire edition.
It didn't last long. In the silence, I easily picked up the conversation going on a few meters away. While I couldn't hear the actual words, I could still recognize Kavanaugh's nasal voice. Curiosity gripped me, and I followed the voices along the corridor, and as silently as I could manage, put my ear on the closed door behind which Kavanaugh seemed to be having a shouting match.
"I already told you what he said. He doesn't want to have anything to do with vampires, and he's a goddamn stubborn son of a bitch!"
"I know what you said, you moron. What I'm asking you is whether he seemed to know anything that he wasn't telling you."
It was McKay's voice. He sounded irritated, which wasn't a surprise, since Kavanaugh would probably manage to irritate a saint, and McKay was as far from a saint as you could get. What surprised me was the subject of their conversation. Namely, me. Unless there were a lot of others stubborn son of bitches to whom Kavanaugh had offered a job recently, of course.
"I don't know. No, I don't think so," came Kavanaugh's uncertain reply. There was the sound of shifting bodies, then McKay's angry voice.
"You don't think so? For god's sake, can you be anymore useless? It was a very simple mission, it's not like I asked you to do something which required actual intelligence-"
Before I could stop myself, I'd opened the door and was standing in the doorway, glaring at McKay, who'd immediately turned at the sound.
"Why don't you ask me directly, instead of sending minions to do it in your stead?"
"Get out," McKay ordered, taking a step towards me and revealing Kavanaugh's cowering form.
"Didn't you hear him?" Kavanaugh yelled, sending me a venomous look. "Get out!" He was probably angry that I'd seen him being less than confident, to say the least.
McKay spared him an irritated glance. "Not him, you, you idiot." Kavanaugh's face twisted in embarrassment, then he scurried out of the room, still glaring at me. I shifted out of the way to avoid any unnecessary contact, which unfortunately brought me closer to McKay.
The door closed shut behind us, and a feeling of unease overcame me, but it was too late to get out now. McKay was frowning, watching me intently with his arms crossed while he leaned on the desk behind him. I looked at the wall behind him, face tight.
"Why did you send Kavanaugh?" I finally broke. McKay startled, as if I'd surprised him by speaking first. I'd surprised myself too.
He watched me in silence, as if contemplating whether to answer honestly or not. "I couldn't send anyone you knew to be related to me, plus I thought you'd be more sympathetic to him since you knew him when he was, you know, human."
I raised an eyebrow at that. Sympathetic and Kavanaugh? If that wasn't an oxymoron, I don't know what is. McKay made a face, as if he too realized the ludicrousness of his statement.
I nodded my head, to signal that I'd understood. "Why did you refuse?” He demanded.
"You mean, besides the fact that it was Kavanaugh?" I asked. His mouth tilted to one side, as if he was about to smile. "I don't work for vampires."
McKay laughed, his human laugh. I hated it. "No, you don't work for vampires; you just… kill them, right?"
He looked at me from head to toe, a secret smile on his lips, like we'd just shared a joke. I knew what the joke was, and it made me want to puke. I clenched my fists to keep from hitting him. Funny how all our interactions ended that way. "Yeah, that's right. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a piss."
I turned on my heels and wrenched the door open. He didn't try to stop me. I stormed off to the bathroom, gaze red with anger. It was empty, thank god. I didn't want to scare some poor bystander. I splashed my face with cold water several times, until I felt a little calmer.
I looked at myself in the mirror. Familiar hazel eyes looked back at me. My hair was as out of control as ever, and drops of water still ran over my face to worm themselves into my collarbone. But that wasn't what I was looking at. I pulled aside the collar of my t-shirt until I could see the scar on the junction of my neck.
I looked at the vampire bite for a long time, unconsciously fingering it, lost in memories of a time where the world had been ignorant of vampires, and I'd been just as ignorant as anyone, a time where I'd had everything. I'd been young, in love, and happy.
Then my lover nearly drained me of blood, leaving me to die, and my world came crashing down around me. Vampires existed, and vampires didn't love. They just used.
The sound of the door clicking shut brought me back to myself with a start. I let go of my shirt, covering up my scar, and turned to look at the newcomer.
He was average in height, with short brown hair and a light beard. He was also a vampire. A stripper vampire, because he was wearing a costume, obviously waiting to go on stage. He smiled at me.
"You must be John Sheppard. I heard you were here. I'm Ladon Radim."
Great, that's just what I needed. "Yeah," I nodded, then made a move towards the door. He refused to budge, blocking my exit, and I scowled at him. What was it with vampire and getting in my way recently?
"Could you move?" I asked. Just for a change, I decide to try politeness before bringing out the big guns, which were unfortunately purely figurative in this case. Why the hell didn't I pack my gun?
Oh, right, bachelorette party.
He smirked, and angled himself away from the door, so that I'd still be forced to touch him if I wanted to go out. My jaw clenched. Screw politeness.
He tried to look me in the eyes, but I evaded him, which seemed to infuriate him, because I could feel him try to roll my mind. I dug my short nails into my skin, hoping that the pain would help me throw him off. But it didn't.
Or rather, it didn't have to. I could feel the vampire's power like a rip tide trying to drag me under, only to glance off me without any effort on my part. The vampire looked surprised. I was surprised too, but I hid it quickly.
Being an animator, I've always had a natural resistance to vampire mind tricks, but this went way beyond that. And I didn't have a clue where it came from.
I bluffed my ass off by flashing the vamp a triumphant look, and I could only hope he didn’t realize what I was actually doing. He kept staring at me, still not moving, and I was contemplating going from victoriously smug to pissed and deadly when my cell phone went off.
Maybe it was the ringtone, but Radim bugged out quick. I got the phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, but it went silent before I could answer. I checked the missed calls list, and cursed. I called back quickly.
Detective Samantha Carter answered on the first ring. Apparently, the police need my expertise at the Evergreen Cemetery.
I offered to drive Nancy home on my way to the scene, but she wanted to stay. Apparently, she liked Radim's performance. I guess there's no accounting for taste. She said she'd get a cab. In the Blood District. Yeah, right. I promised to come back to drive her, then set off to the cemetery.
There's nothing like a good old crime scene to take your mind off pesky vampires after all.
**********************************
It took me thirty minutes to get from the District to the Evergreen Cemetery. When I got there, Sergeant Radek Zelenka was waiting for me at the entrance with a maniac grin on his face. Zelenka was short, Czech and was dating Elizabeth, my boss. They'd accidentally met when Zelenka had been by the office to drop some papers for me, and he'd been besotted with her ever since, much to my chagrin.
I parked the car behind the one I vaguely recognized as Carter's, and got my sidearm out of the glove compartment, where I kept it hidden. I got out of the car, and put my 9mm Glock under my jeans, in the absence of my usual shoulder holster. I was dressed for a party, not traipsing through a crime scene. Although if I'd known in advance where the party was going to take place, I sure as hell would have packed my gun. Among other things.
I didn't bother locking the car. I headed for Zelenka, zipping up my jacket against the cold as I went, and watched with dread as his grin widened when I got level with him. I glared at him. I wasn't in the mood for his jokes. "Don't say it," I ordered, as we walked toward the yellow police tape that was circling around tombstones.
"Say what?" he asked, raising his hands innocently. I wasn't fooled.
We went underneath the tape and found ourselves face to face with Detective Sergeant Samantha Carter, head of the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team, or RPIT as it was more commonly called. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she was wearing jeans and a shirt. I guess it'd been her night off too. She smiled when she saw us, but it had a strained quality to it.
"Sam," I greeted her, and followed as she led us past a few tombstones. The scene was empty, as every other expert had probably already been by and I was the last one left, which was convenient for me since it meant I didn't have to take care not the disturb the crime scene. Which in this case consisted of the dismembered body of a young woman.
We came at a stop a few feet from the corpse. The head had rolled away and was resting against a tombstone nearby. I put on the latex gloves Zelenka offered me with familiar movements, and took a few steps towards it, crouching down. A neat set of fangs gleamed at me when I parted her lips, and I sighed.
Another vampire murder. Because that was just what my night needed.
I turned back to the two police officers, who were looking at me silently. "Do you know who she is?"
"Surprisingly, yes," answered Carter, "she had papers on her." I raised an eyebrow.
"Jeannie Miller, vampire citizen since Addison v. Clark. Manager at the Laughing Corpse, a vampire theatre in the District," read Zelenka from the note pad he was holding.
I knew what the Laughing Corpse was. I also knew who the owner was. I frowned thoughtfully, suddenly realizing that all the previous murders had been vampires who'd worked for McKay, in some form or another. Zelenka and Carter were looking at me expectantly, but for reasons I didn't want to examine too closely, I decided to keep the info to myself. They'd probably make the connection themselves soon enough anyway. I turned to examine the rest of the corpse, avoiding their looks.
If you didn't consider the fact that her head wasn't attached to her body anymore; she looked perfectly fine. There were no signs of defensive wounds or other marks of violence. I told Carter as much. She nodded. I wasn't telling her anything new. I frowned back at the body.
Unfortunately, after a more thorough examination, the only useful information I could glean was that Jeannie Miller liked to paint each toenail with a different color. That is to say, not very useful at all. I turned back to Carter and Zelenka, and removed the gloves.
"The murder was probably committed here," I said, "There would be less blood if she'd been moved."
Carter nodded again, and we both stared at the large amount of blood surrounding the body, soaking through Miller's blonde hair. I grimaced. It wasn't a pretty sight. I could feel my dinner threatening to come back the wrong way.
"Who do you think did this?" asked Carter. I shrugged, and she smiled wearily. "Fine, who do you think would be able to do this, then?"
I looked around us. The cemetery was otherwise undisturbed, no shattered tombstones or damage whatsoever. "A vampire, a lycanthrope, anything with preternatural strength, really. But that's not the question you should be asking."
Carter nodded, pushing back a strand of hair the wind had blown into her face. "I guess not."
Zelenka looked at us both, then at the corpse. He pushed back his glasses, frowning. "Yes. We should rather be asking what the hell could take a vampire by surprise."
"And what was she doing alone in a cemetery in the first place," added Carter.
I shrugged again, and refrained from making the obvious joke. I wasn't that tactless. After a while, we turned our backs on the body and began walking back to our cars in silence.
"So, a bachelorette party, huh?" Zelenka asked suddenly, snickering. I could feel Carter swallow back her own laughter. I glared at him.
"Shut up." We were nearly at my car, and I increased my pace, hoping to reach it before the teasing could seriously begin.
"Did you paint toenails and do each other's hair?" he called at my back, and I forced myself to open the car door calmly.
"If you don't shut up, Zelenka, I'll tell Elizabeth you think her new haircut makes her look old," I called back, before closing the door on his embarrassed face. I gave him a cheerful wave through the window, then started the car and drove out of the cemetery, and back to Guilty Pleasures.
I could already feel my good humor slip away, and anxiousness wedge itself in my stomach. Of course, I could always not tell McKay anything, and hope that I could get Nancy out and home without meeting him, but knowing my luck, the chances of that were slim to none. And McKay would probably be able to smell the vampire blood on me, or something equally as creepy.
So really, telling him up front was probably the more sensible course of action. Only, how the hell do you tell a Master Vampire that another of his vampires was dead without sounding like you were accusing him of the goddamn crime?
I guess I was about to find out.
************************************
Thirty minutes later, I got lucky and found an empty parking place not too far from Guilty Pleasures. As I walked the rest of the way, I grabbed my cell and dialed Nancy's. As I expected, she didn't answer. I guess her cell phone ringing didn't have a chance in hell of catching her attention while incredibly attractive men- vampires, whatever- were dancing around naked.
I let it ring a few more times for good measure then cut the call. There went plan A. Plan B was to get the hell out of there and erase this freaking night from my memory. As tempting as it was, I decided it didn't make a very good plan. Hence, plan C.
Teal'c the vampire bouncer let me pass with an impassive nod, and I swiftly gave my wristband to the holy item check girl, who scurried off with it. I went inside.
To my consternation, the place was even more packed than before. I located our table after a few seconds. Unfortunately, Nancy was nowhere to be seen; the only woman still sitting there was Sora. I thought about crossing through to ask her. I cocked my head, watching as her blonde curls bounced along with the drunken swinging of her head.
Yeah. Maybe not. I decided to check the bathroom first. It was empty. I even checked under the stalls, which earned me weird looks from the two entering brunettes. I gave them my most charming smile as I passed them.
"Ladies," I nodded, before quickly leaving. I was standing in the intersection between the bathroom corridor and the hallway that led to the stage when I suddenly caught a sight that left me frozen in place. I'd finally found Nancy. She looked alright after all, and she'd tied up her hair back sometime during the night. Unfortunately, she was also in deep conversation with none other than Rodney McKay. He said something, and she laughed. I recognized the laugh. Sadly, it was her sincere one.
I ground my teeth and walked towards them. McKay saw me coming over her shoulder, and broke off speaking. The smile fell off his face. "Sheppard," he said.
Nancy turned to look at me, smiling brilliantly. "John, you're here."
"Yeah." I glared at McKay, who raised an unimpressed eyebrow. An awkward silence followed.
"I'd better go," McKay said. He inclined his head, "Nancy, it's been a pleasure." He turned on his heels, and began walking off stiffly, leaving Nancy looking baffled. I watched him go for a second, before sighing. "McKay, wait," I called. He turned to look at me, surprised. "We need to talk."
Looking haughty, he crossed his arms, and for a second, I was convinced he was going to refuse. I don't know what he saw on my face, but his expression seemed to soften, and he inclined his head towards his office. I checked if Nancy was alright and told her to wait for me before following him.
I closed the door behind me, and turned to look at McKay, who was watching me thoughtfully, leaning against his desk. A terrible feeling of déjà-vu overcame me, and I could only hope this conversation wasn't going to end as our last one did.
Yeah, fat chance of that.
"Look McKay, I, that is…" Suddenly, I didn't know what to say. The words died on my throat, and we looked at each other in silence for a long moment.
"I wanted to apologize," McKay said unexpectedly. I stared at him. Blinked twice. Things just went from awkward-as-hell to fucking-weird land, and my brain needed a little time to catch up.
"Huh?" I asked intelligently.
"About my earlier behavior. It was …inappropriate."
Okay, weird didn't even begin to cover this. I didn't know what to say. Okay, I had a lot of things to say, but none of them were conducive to a civil exchange, and I didn't want this to degenerate into a fight. I finally decided that silent nodding was the best course of action. He smirked, as if he knew what I was thinking, which I wouldn't completely put past him.
"Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." Yeah, like I would ever want to talk about that. "I was actually called away on police business." Like he could ever scare me into running away, although he obviously believed it. Whatever.
McKay straightened, his back going stiff and his face taking on the focused expression he wore when confronted with a problem. The cramps in my stomach tightened, and I had a sudden bad feeling about this.
"It was another vampire murder. She worked for you. Her name was Jeannie Miller."
McKay froze, his body inhumanly still. Silence built.
"John," he finally said. "Get out."
The shock of hearing my name on his lips again kept me frozen in place for a second too long. One of the bookcases covering the walls came flying toward me and I dived out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed by it.
The bookcase impacted against the wall with such force the cement broke. I watched with wide eyes as more and more furniture went crashing everywhere in uncontrolled chaos. I tried to get to the door, but the desk crashed against it and blocked my way, and I had to quickly take cover behind the overturned couch.
McKay was standing in the middle of the chaos, unmoving. I called his name, and his head turned toward me. Okay, maybe not my best plan ever. His skin seemed to be stretched too thin on his face, and his eyes had bled over, until the only thing left was a sea of deep, enraged blue.
As I got my gun out, just to make myself feel less defenseless, Ladon Radim appeared in the doorway. He only had a second to take stock of the situation before he had to duck behind the couch and next to me, which was the only viable cover in the room.
"What did you do?"yelled Radim. "Nothing!" I yelled back indignantly. Another bookcase crashed over our heads. We ducked in time. "Well, besides telling him that Jeannie Miller was murdered," I admitted.
Radim, who had been cautiously peeking over the couch, turned abruptly towards me. "Shit," he swore. I'd never thought vampire could look this anxious. "She's his sister," he said, leaving me speechless for a moment. I hadn't known Jeannie Miller was his sister. Hell, I hadn't known McKay had a sister. A pang of hurt for him overcame my panic for a moment, which promptly came back as Radim moved with preternatural speed, dodging a flying knife which would have lodged itself in his throat, and threw himself at McKay.
Radim was probably aiming to tackle him, but he only succeeded in breaking the inhuman stillness McKay had settled into. The vampire threw his head back and howled, an unearthly sound that chilled me down to my bones, then proceeded to beat Ladon Radim to a bloody pulp, easily thwarting the other vampire's attempt at protecting himself.
I was petrified in place, more scared than I'd ever been in a long time, as I watched McKay throw the other vampire around, until Radim hit the wall with a sickening crush, both his bones and the cement breaking from the force of the blow. Although it was probably cheap cement that'd crack after being hit with what amounts to a bag of water and sticks, a vampire was way harder to damage, let alone to that extent.
I fingered the safety off my gun, even as I knew it would be useless. If a vampire as old as Radim was powerless against McKay, what fucking chance did a handful of bullets have? And that was supposing I could shoot McKay, which I wasn't so sure of.
Suddenly, Nancy's voice came from the hallway."John, what's going-" She stopped, eyes widening in shock at the nightmarish sight that faced her. She took an instinctive step backwards, and I silently gestured for her to get the hell out of there. Unfortunately, it was too late, for her voice had already grabbed McKay's attention, and he left Radim's battered body where it lay broken against the wall, taking a step towards her.
Nancy screamed, and I fired my gun. It had the effect I expected, which was pretty much nothing. Before I knew it, I'd thrown myself on him, discarding the half empty gun in favor of grabbing him from behind in a useless attempt to buy Nancy more time to get out. It would probably take him less than a second to throw me off, but I had to try, for Nancy's sake.
To my utter surprise, instead of finding myself splattered against the wall, I felt McKay's body relax against mine. On reflex, I circled my arms around him and held on. His hand grabbed mine and tightened around it enough to hurt.
He could have broken my hand, but he didn't. I looked down at his face, and our eyes met. They were sky blue, bright with unshed tears, but they were normal again.
"John," he sighed, before his eyes closed and he let himself rest against me. I let us fall gently to the floor, unable to support our combined weight for long. Rodney's face was human again, pale and vulnerable, making my heart clench unexpectedly. I instinctively tightened my hold on him, cradling the back of his head with my free hand. The other one was still clutched underneath his, and I felt him give it a last gentle squeeze before letting go, waiting for me to extricate it.
I left it there.
***********************************
Most of the time, I found vampire powers either exceedingly annoying or seriously creepy, but I had to admit to a serious case of envy of their regenerative capacities, which would sure come in handy in my line of work. Not long after being used as a sentient punching bag and having most of his bones shattered, I watched Ladon Radim slowly stand up, shakily sure, but still standing up nonetheless.
He looked at me, holding McKay's form protectively, and his eyes narrowed in speculation. Or maybe it was pain. It was hard to tell with vampires, what with not being able to really look them in the eye and all.
Another vampire came barreling through the doorway, where Nancy was still standing in a state of shock, shouldering her out of the way easily. The newcomer was blonde, dressed in a business suit and was wearing an expression of utter astonishment.
I've never seen a vampire look that stunned before. I guess there was a first to everything. Good job there, Sheppard.
"What the fuck happened here?" yelled the blonde vampire, apparently over her surprise. Her eyes fell on Radim, and they narrowed angrily. Obviously, there was no love lost between these two. "Radim, this better be good," she ground out, looking between the battered vampire leaning against the wall and me, cradling her boss on the floor. I guess we made an interesting picture. Crap.
I resisted the urge to drop McKay like a sack of hot potatoes and gently eased him on the floor instead, then got up. I discreetly located my gun where I'd tossed it on the floor, and inched toward it carefully, expression innocent.
Both vampires abandoned the staring contest they had been silently engaging in, in favor of swiveling their heads and staring at me. Their eyes narrowed. I guess my "I know nothing" look wasn't fooling anyone. Too bad.
Before the situation could degenerate into a fight, McKay's voice came from the floor. "Simpson," he snapped, but his voice lacked its usual bite. "Let him go," he ordered, much to my surprise. By the expression on the other vampires' faces, it wasn't exactly what they expected either.
However, Simpson quickly composed herself, and with a last glare in my direction, proceeded to completely ignore me, crossing the room and bending down next to McKay. I quickly decided that the situation called for strategic running away, and after getting back my gun, did just that, ushering a panicky Nancy out with me.
I answered her bewildered questions with some bullshit story about vampire skirmishes and anger management, and we made a quick detour to retrieve a drunken Sora before leaving Guilty Pleasures. I put my wristband back in place with a sigh of relief, as we walked the few blocks to where I'd parked the car. I supported Sora's inebriated form all the way there, since Nancy's steps were wobbly themselves.
After depositing Sora at her flat, we drove in silence towards Nancy's house. She still looked out-of-sorts, even though she didn't seem scared anymore. I guess the amount of alcohol in her system must have something to do with it. She'd probably convinced herself she'd imagined most of it by now.
"You never said you knew Rodney when you were in college," said Nancy suddenly, and my head snapped to look at her in shock.
"What?" I asked in a strangled tone, as I forced myself to look back at the road. "Did Rod-McKay say that?"
She nodded. "Yeah, we talked earlier. He was nice." I nearly burst out laughing. McKay, nice? Maybe Nancy was drunker than what I first thought. I looked sideways at her, and found her frowning thoughtfully.
"Well, not nice, exactly. But he was, charming, I guess. Didn't seem so scary then." She shook her head. "Anyway, yeah, he mentioned you'd met before. That must be what, eight years ago, right? "
"Ten," I said, looking intently at the road.
"That must be weird for you, to know he was actually a vampire all along," she persisted. I could feel her staring at me carefully.
"Nancy," I began, turning to look at her. Her eyes widened. "We're here."
"What?" Her head swiveled to look out of the window. I brought the car to a stop near her apartment building. We sat in the car in silence for a while, before she reached for the handle and opened the door. She looked back at me, a foot out of the car already, her expression softening.
"Thanks for everything, John," she said. I nodded, offering her a rueful smile. "You're welcome." Nancy smiled at me, then leaned over quickly and kissed me.
My eyes widened in surprise. God, I never saw those things coming. The kiss ended while I sat there frozen like an idiot. Nancy cupped my cheek for a moment, looking me in the eyes, before smiling sadly and getting out of the car. I watched her go inside through the window, bemused.
Okay, this night just kept getting weirder and weirder. The radio was silent as I drove back to my apartment. I didn't feel like listening to music. All I kept thinking about was Jeannie Miller's body, her blue eyes staring at me sightlessly from her cut off head. Belatedly, I realized they were the exact same shade as Rodney's.
When I got there, the apartment was silent. I frowned, before remembering that Teyla had an investigation going on, and she was probably out tailing someone's wife or something.
I checked the answering machine. There was a message from Teyla, telling me she was going to be late and not to wait up for her. I watched some TV half-heartedly while having a snack, then gave up and went to sleep.
I dreamt of Jeannie Miller.
***************************
My alarm went off at seven. I fumbled around till I hit the snooze button. Five minutes later, a knock sounded on my bedroom door. With a moan, I burrowed my head under the pillow, until I heard Teyla calling to me.
Right. We were supposed to go on a morning run. Damn. Fifteen minutes later, I was tying my running shoes as I watched Teyla finish her meditating exercises.
We began with a few warms up, then settled into an easy jog. Teyla's hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, leaving the nape of her neck bare. Her bronze skin soon began gleaming with a slight sheen of sweat.
We talked as we ran. I told her about what happened the previous night. Teyla was probably one of the few people to whom I felt comfortable talking, probably because she had the rare quality of listening without judging. If I were a woman, I'd probably call her my best friend. As it is, she was - someone I could talk to, I guess.
Teyla listened silently as I told her about Jeannie Miller's murder and Rodney's reaction. When I finally fell silent, she raised an eyebrow. "And they just let you leave."
"Yeah, I'd thought I was going to have to fight my way out for sure, but McKay ordered that Simpson woman to let us go, and she did."
I shrugged. Yeah, I realize it looked suspicious. No, I had no desire to talk about it further. I wasn't sure I'd been able to convey all of that silently, but Teyla seemed to get the message anyway. "And now, you are feeling guilty and think you should have done more to catch the murderer, even though that would have been very unlikely." Or maybe not.
I winced. "Maybe." Teyla was right. Even though Jeannie Miller should have been nothing more than another vampire murder, she was Rodney's sister and whether I wanted to admit it or not, that made a difference to me.
"Yeah," I finally acknowledged. I passed my hand through my hair uncomfortably. We jogged the rest of the way in silence, watching the few other joggers and morning people move around us, and businesses slowly open up and get ready to begin the day.
"I'm going to accept McKay's offer," I said, as we slowly came to a stop when we neared the café that was our half-way mark, and turned around. Teyla looked at me, the secret smile that meant I was being amusingly predictable stretching her lips. I guess that was one of the drawbacks of having a - someone I could talk to.
"Do you have any leads?" she asked instead, frowning thoughtfully. She was probably already sketching a list of possible suspects in her head.
"Well, I guess it'd be a safe bet to cross humans off the list," I said, frowning when Teyla shook her head. I made a face, mentioning for her to continue, but she seemed reluctant.
"Do you think HAV could have anything to do with it?" I asked finally. HAV, or Humans Against Vampires, was essentially a hate group against vampires. But the last time I checked, they were still trying to have the vampires' citizen status revoked legally, not going around beheading them.
"My contact inside HAV recently alluded that there was talk of forming another group, which would use more 'direct' methods in their fight against vampires," she said, the displeased expression in her face indicating what she thought of that. More direct methods, my ass.
Because that was just what the world needed; more vigilantes against vampires.
Unfortunately, Teyla didn't have any more details, but she promised to contact her source and try to get more intel about this new group.
I kept thinking about it for the rest of the morning, as I drove to Animators Inc. and met with my first client of the morning. The more I thought about it though, the more I was convinced HAV wasn't responsible for the murders.
For one thing, except for Jeannie Miller, all the vampires had been found murdered in the District, not far from their work place. That meant the murders had been quick and silent, which sure as hell wouldn't be the case if humans had been involved.
Furthermore, their heads had been cleanly severed with one strike. Talking from personal experience here, bone is hell to cut through, and I can usually only manage to do it during legal executions because the vampire is chained down, doped to the gills so it doesn't move, and because I use an axe. That's not the case with the murders. The angle of the cuts says the vamps were on their feet when they died, and the tox screen the cops ran couldn't have turned up anything weird, or Sam would have mentioned it. No, someone, or something, with supernatural strength was doing this. I was sure of it.
Of course, Teyla was right and I couldn't entirely remove HAV from my list of suspects. For all I know, they could have had a supernatural creature working for them, unlikely as that was. So much for narrowing down my list of suspects.
Fortunately, I only had two zombie raisings planned for the night, and they shouldn't normally take more than three hours tops, which would leave me enough time to go to the District and talk to McKay, and maybe swing by the Laughing Corpse, where Jeannie Miller had worked. The police had probably been by, but I didn't have a better lead, and I had to begin somewhere after all.
I just hoped I wouldn't make more unpleasant meetings. Yeah, wishes in one hand, crap in the other-
I made a note to pack my gun. Just in case.
Part Two
Author:
alena_malfoy
Rating: R
Pairing: John/Rodney
Summary: My name is John Sheppard, and I kill vampires for a living.
Wordcount: 10000
Spoilers: General spoilers up to season 4 for SGA, GP for Anita Blake.
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and the Anita Blake series belong to MGM and Laurel K Hamilton. I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing.
Warnings: AU, WIP, Abandoned
Author's Notes: This is based on LKH's Guilty Pleasures, but it has its own plot, I'm only borrowing the most basic facts, and is inspired by scribblinlenore 's "There's A New Kid in Town". Huge thanks to my beta, jya_bd_cp_ttgb
I'd known Peter Kavanaugh for a year before he'd died. While he'd been a jerk then, I had the displeasure to discover that he'd gotten even more conceited now that he'd become a vampire.
I guess that if even death was unable to beat the arrogance out of him, nothing would. He sat across from me, sprawling in a faux-nonchalant way in his chair. I sprawled right back. I wasn't about to be bested at slouching by a vampire, and a slimy one at that.
Silence built, as he obviously waited for me to ask him what he wanted. Unfortunately for him, my patience was fuelled by stubbornness, which had gotten me pretty far in life. Whilst we sat twiddling out thumbs, I made a show of not looking at him, looking instead at my desk, the walls, and even the stupid fruit portrait that was hung in front of me. Elizabeth, my boss, thought it would make the clients feel at home.
I thought it made me hungry.
Finally he broke the silence. "Aren't you the least bit curious?" he asked.
"No." Maybe if I was rude, he'd go away faster? I began mentally coming up with an equation to calculate the degree of rudeness necessary to make this meeting last the least time possible.
"Well, you should be," he smirked, getting a cigar from his inner pocket. I silently pointed at the no-smoking sign on the wall. He made a face. I secretly thanked Elizabeth's health obsession as he put it back.
"I'm here to become a client, Mr. Sheppard," he informed me. I raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Yeah, right.
"You're a vampire. I kind of doubt you need me to raise the dead for you," I drawled. He frowned, displeased. I guess it was a good thing I'd refrained from giving in to my first impulse, which was to call his bullshit for what it was.
"That's not what I want to hire you for. I need you to investigate some murders."
"I'm pretty sure it says Animator in my job description, not P.I," I answered, leaning back on my chair some more. I enjoyed watching his face get more annoyed by the minute. "But if you really insist, I guess I can give you the name of a very good private investigator.”
"I'm sure Ms. Emmagen is very competent, but she doesn't know vampires the way you do."
"Why would she need to?" My spidey sense went from tingling to full on blaring. Yeah, I really didn't like where this was headed. His smirk came back full force. I kept my face blank and professional. Well, mostly professional.
"Four vampires were found murdered on the District. Their heads were cut off. But then you already knew that, didn't you, Mister Sheppard?"
I didn't answer him.
"You were called in to consult on the matter by the spook squad, weren't you?"
I didn't have to wonder where he got that from, since the murder of four vampires was pretty big news. It had made the front pages of all the major newspapers, right along with the fact that I'd been called in by the police to investigate.
“Gee, you can actually read? Color me impressed. So what part of ‘no comment' didn't you get?” I said, tilting my head to the side inquisitively.
He ignored me. "The cops couldn't give a damn. Vampires are already dead, so is it really murder after all? Isn't that what they think?"
I shrugged. Since Addison v. Clarke, the court case which allowed vampires to become legal citizens of the USA, our beliefs have been altered irrevocably. Two years after the verdict, the damn thing was still giving the courts a migraine. Served them right. Making vampires legal was probably the stupidest decision they ever made. And that’s saying something.
"We need your expertise on the case, Mr. Sheppard. You are reputed to be the best in the business, after all," he continued. I had to give him that, he certainly knew how to kiss ass. A useful skill in his line of work, I'm sure.
"We?" I asked. "And who would that be, Kavanaugh?"
All the animation drained from his face, as if he was able to switch off his emotions on command. Another pesky vampire trait I hated. "That's not important." Of course, I already knew that Kavanaugh was merely the running boy to a much bigger fish, but his reaction was interesting nonetheless.
"Listen, we can offer you a lot of money. Three times your habitual fee."
It was an impressive offer. Too bad for him money was the last of my troubles, but it did explain why Elizabeth had set up the meeting despite her general dislike of vampires. She was not the sort of woman to let her personal feelings stand in the way of a good business deal.
"It's not about the money, Kavanaugh. I'm sorry, but I can't take you case."
I stood up, signaling the end of the interview, but he stayed stubbornly seated. I sighed, and began walking around the desk and towards the door. “Look, Kavanaugh, I have another client waiting for me here, a real client, and I really don't have the time to waste on-"
I stopped. Kavanaugh had moved with preternatural speed, and was suddenly standing in front of me, blocking my way. I took a swift step back, and snuck a glance at the desk drawer where I kept my gun hidden. At this distance, he'd probably get me before I could reach it if I made a sudden move.
Stuck, I glared at him, taking care not to actually meet his gaze directly. I used my anger to mask the fact that my stomach was tied in a painful knot, though I knew that he could probably smell my fear. Damn vampires and their heightened senses.
I expected him to look arrogant or threatening, but he looked actually nervous.
"Why won't you at least consider it? We can pay you more, if that's what you want."
"It's not about the money. I don't work for vampires. It's a thing." His face fell, and I actually felt pity for him for a moment. Didn‘t stop me from inching my way towards my desk though.
"You should consider rethinking it, in that case. For your own good."
The pity urge passed. "And I think you should think twice before threatening me." I was in lunging distance of the drawer now, plus I had surprise on my side, so my chances of actually using the gun before he could kill me were pretty good. Or at least not phenomenally awful.
Kavanaugh took a step back. Apparently, he wasn't that stupid, and had probably figured out my threat wasn't so empty anymore. While I'd like to think I scared him, he most likely just didn't want to bother with the mess. I watched him move back a few more steps in terse silence, before letting myself slowly relax. At least, on the outside, because I was silently cursing myself for letting my guard down with a vampire, even if it was one I'd know while human.
Keeping my eyes on Kavanaugh, I got behind my desk, discretely inching my drawer open and getting a hand on the butt of my gun. I felt immediately better. I gave Kavanaugh the best glare I could manage, which under the circumstances was pretty damn good, and put my other hand threateningly near the intercom, ready to call for security.
"I believe you know the way out," I snapped. Kavanaugh followed the motion of my hand, and with a constipated expression, turned on his heels and got out. I totally expected him to slam the door behind him or something as ridiculously dramatic, but he actually left it wide open. Sleazy bastard.
Grinding my teeth, I waited until I was sure Kavanaugh had left before crossing the room, the gun securely held in my hand. I could see Walter, our night secretary, giving me a curious look before the door closed. I shook my head and ran my hand through my hair. Being threatened by Kavanaugh of all people, or rather vampires, wasn't exactly my idea of a jolly time. I reminded myself to have a little chat with Elizabeth about sending me vampire clients, even if they were paying the big bucks.
I stuck the gun it in its holster, slapped on my jacket, and tried to remember anything I might need and didn’t have. Chicken? Check. Machete? Check. Car keys? No check. I went back to my office and searched around a bit until I got them, then headed out again.
I gave Walter, who was doing a pretty good job of trying to appear as if he hadn't been laughing at me, a half-assed salute as I passed his desk. I could hear him still chuckling as the door closed behind me. Thanks to Kavanaugh’s little temper tantrum, I was running late. Oh well, here’s hoping I haven’t pissed off the Traffic Gods.
*****************************
As I drove back home from the cemetery, I silently thanked god for the fact that tomorrow was my day off. I seriously needed the rest after spending the last six hours in the company of lawyers, a weeping widow and a zombie.
It said a lot that I found the zombie the least horrifying of the bunch.
My cell phone rang, the Star Trek anthem muffled from I'd stuffed it somewhere in my pocket. I let go of the wheel with one hand to get it out, and thumbed it open after checking the caller ID. I probably shouldn’t be talking on the phone while driving, but hey, the road was empty and I was feeling reckless.
"Hey, Teyla, I'm on my way home, shouldn't be long now."
Teyla Emmagen was a talented P.I, a kick-ass woman and my temporary roommate. At least, for as long as it took to get her apartment renovated. She also tended to worry about me when I was late coming back, though she'd never say it outright.
"That is good, John. Drive safely." Her voice was as calm as ever, not betraying the slightest hint of worry despite the late hour, and I smiled.
"Sure thing," I answered, but she'd already hung up. She was also a very succinct woman.
Finally, I arrived home and parked the car behind Teyla's black Volvo. I walked up like a zombie to my flat, no pun intended, and was greeted by the sight of the dinner Teyla had left for me on the table. A glance toward her room showed me that her door was closed, as she'd probably gotten into bed after our conversation.
I ate quickly, thankful for Teyla's thoughtfulness, and got ready for bed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
A sound woke me up. I opened bleary eyes and flinched when the morning light hit me full on. A quick look at the time told me that it was ten past eight, and I'd been asleep for less than three hours. I buried my head under the pillow, doing my best to ignore it and trying to go back to sleep.
After a minute, I gave up. Damn my pesky conscience. Bleary-eyed, I fumbled for the cell phone, and looked at the number on the screen for a minute. With a curse, I shook off my surprise and answered quickly, trying at the same time to extricate myself from the heavy covers and mentally locating my last clean shirt and car keys. Laundry day would have to wait, as I doubted my ex-wife's office was calling me to -
"Hello! Is this John Sheppard?"
I stopped my losing contest against the entangled covers and frowned. The voice on the other end was suspiciously cheerful and bubbly, considering this was supposed to be an emergency.
"Yeah, that's me." I passed my hand over my face quickly, trying to scrub off the last remnants of sleep.
"I'm Sora Tyrus." An expectant pause. "I work with Nancy Sheppard? We met at her promotion party two months ago."
I could feel myself getting more annoyed by the minute. Sarah, or whatever her name was, could probably feel it because she hurriedly went on. "As you know, Nancy is getting married next month, and I thought I could organize a bachelorette party for her."
A bachelorette party. Right. I was happy for Nancy, really, but that didn't mean I particularly appreciated being reminded of it, even less after being awakened from too little sleep because of it. "Aren't bachelorette parties supposed to be a party between, you know, women?"
She laughed. I was sure she could hear my molars grinding on the other end. "I know. But we need a designated driver, and I thought Nancy would like you to be there. "
I've known Nancy since we were kids. By the age of twenty, we were already married. It'd seemed life the right thing to do at the time. But while I loved Nancy, I wasn't in love with her, and she'd known it. A year after, we decided to part ways, and we'd stayed good friends ever since. So yes, Nancy would probably like me to come.
"Sure thing. Do you want me to pick you up at Nancy's?" I made a face, mentally kissing my relaxing night off goodbye.
"That would be great, thanks! We'll be ready by six."
We said our goodbyes and hung up. I sighed. I couldn't believe I'd just been roped into going to my ex-wife's bachelorette party. That's why I hated morning people. They inevitably ended up taking advantage of my slow state to saddle me with things I would never agree to otherwise.
Oh well. There were worse things than watching my ex-wife celebrate the fact that she'd found happiness where I failed and be all radiant and glowing and-
Yeah.
I pulled up the covers up to my ears and closed my eyes resolutely. Unsurprisingly, sleep seemed a lot more elusive now.
**************************
I couldn't help but stare at the white button pinned on Sora's blouse that proclaimed "vampires have feelings too". Sora had giggled each time she'd caught me staring.
I guess she thought I was checking her out.
We'd parked the car a few blocks over, after coming out from the restaurant. It was only the three of us, for which Sora had profusely apologized. Apparently, everyone else had other engagements and couldn't come on such short notice. I refused to consider that as a reflection on the state of my personal life.
Nancy was holding my elbow while we walked leisurely, the hem of her red dress brushing my leg with each footstep. Red had always been her color, and she looked stunning with her long hair set loose across her bare shoulders.
Sora was walking ahead of us, twirling her blonde curls and looking back at us from time to time then giggling.
"I think she's had too much to drink," said Nancy in a soft voice.
I smirked. "Yeah, that must be it."
Nancy frowned for a second before hitting me on the arm. "Be nice. She'd not bad, just-"
"An airhead?" I interrupted. Nancy groaned, and shook her head.
"You shouldn't be so hard on people. Not everybody can meet your high standards, you know."
Not even me, she didn't add, but I still heard it just as clearly. We stayed quiet for most of the walk down after that. I didn't know what to say, or rather, I didn't know what to say without hurting her even more than I'd already done.
"Nancy-" I began, but Sora chose that moment to turn back. "Come on, we're nearly there," she called.
I looked down at Nancy, but she shook her head, and let go of my elbow to amble up ahead, glancing over her shoulder at me with a mischievous smile.
"Come on John; let's see what the surprise is."
I actually had a pretty good clue about where we were going, now that I’d gotten my head out of my ass and taken a good look at the neighborhood. The Blood District. Oh joy. Even better, I made it around the corner just then and came face to face with a swirling neon sign the color of heart blood. Yeah, I needed to be here like I needed two holes in my neck.
Come on Sheppard, think. How do you get yourself, and the others, out of here without looking like a complete bastard?
By the time I joined Nancy and Sora, I still hadn't found a way. "Welcome to Guilty Pleasures," Sora declared, then sauntered up ahead to the big, very big, vampire guarding the entrance. "Teal'c!" she called. He gave her an impassive nod.
"Welcome, Sora Tyrus," he said, face perfectly expressionless. He had stoicism down to an art form, but he wasn't the oldest vampire I'd ever met. He couldn't have been dead for more than seventy years, tops. "Your table is waiting," he informed her in a deep voice.
I raised an eyebrow. Maybe Sora walked in better circles than I'd first guessed. But before I could wonder at the suspicious feeling that was nagging at me, Nancy took me by the elbow and dragged me inside, right past the "No crosses, crucifixes, or other holy items allowed inside" sign, which was a-ok by me.
We found ourselves in some sort of foyer, where a girl no more than twenty blocked our way, and came to collect our holy items. Before I could flip my wristband and hide the cross stitched onto it, I heard an unfortunately familiar voice coming from right behind us.
And me without my gun. Damn it.
"Sheppard. What a surprise."
I closed my eyes, grimacing slightly. When I opened them again, I found Sora and Nancy looking between me and the figure at my back with bemusement.
I turned around to look at the voice owner and club proprietor. "McKay," I nodded coldly. He was standing with his arms crossed, expression an interesting blend of belligerence and surprise.
I glared right back.
Rodney McKay was two hundred and fifty years old, and the most talented vampire at faking humanity I'd ever met. So talented in fact, that I'd only discovered it until it'd been too late.
I quickly blocked the memory and schooled my face to blankness, but he'd already seen the emotions that particular memory evoked in me.
He smirked, a smug and haughty smile that made me want to punch him in the face. I refrained, and not only because he was an immortal vampire who could cut my throat and drink my blood before I could finish blinking. I just didn't want to give him the satisfaction that reaction would bring.
"I'm sorry, but you must surrender all holy items before entering the club," he said. He didn't sound sorry at all. If anything, he sounded gleeful.
Nancy unclasped the silver chain she wore around her neck and gave the delicate cross to the holy item check girl. They looked at me. I stared at McKay. I was wearing a black v-neck shirt and they could obviously see that I wasn't wearing a chain.
"Come on, Sheppard, let's not do this. Stop being so damn stubborn," he finally said.
"You didn't object to my wearing it last time," I shot back before thinking. He laughed. It was an utterly human sound, but that didn't mean he was powerless. Far from it.
He looked at me from head to toe. "I was…otherwise occupied at the time." McKay's tone had been bland, but I could still feel myself blush. "You were here on police business after all," he finished, looking triumphant at my response.
Yeah, the last time I'd reluctantly set foot in Guilty Pleasures, it'd been to investigate the vampire murders, which had occurred a few blocks farther away. I'd enjoyed that visit even less than this one, but at least then I could hide behind the veneer of professionalism.
"Fine," I relented, and reached for my left wrist. The wristband had been a gift from my brother, and I'd worn it for so long it now felt like a part of me. When I'd gotten into the vampire business, I had a tiny cross sewn into it.
Luckily, in this particular case, size really didn't matter. It was the faith behind the cross that gave it power. An atheist waving a cross at a vampire would have as much effect as him shouting 'please, don't bite me'.
While the sentiment was nice, the effect was unfortunately lacking.
I glared at the holy item girl who scampered off quickly with my wristband, then transferred my glare to its deserving subject.
Or rather to his chin, because I was certain that McKay was only waiting for the right opportunity to roll my mind, and looking him in the eyes would be tantamount to serving myself up to him on a gold platter.
The girl came back and gave us a check, and we went inside quickly. The last thing I needed was to give Nancy the opportunity to ask me how I knew McKay, or even worse, how he knew I wore a cross at such an unlikely place. I resolutely didn't look back at the vampire behind me, even if I could still feel his gaze drilling a hole through my back.
****************************
Nancy's face when she discovered that Guilty Pleasures was a vampire strip club was probably the highlight of my evening.
Our table was by the stage, for which we received many jealous looks and a few weird ones at my presence. The crowd was mostly made up of women, but I could see a few men scattered here and there.
The lights went off, and a sensual voice came out of the darkness, whispering tempting propositions of carnal pleasures to the crowd. I didn't hear a word of it.
It was McKay's voice, but it was very different from the one we'd heard earlier. This one was imbued with power, rolling the audience's mind effortlessly. All my concentration went into ignoring the effect it had on me.
"Ford is with us, tonight," he finished, and the crowd burst into applause. The lights came back on, and a lone figure on the stage could be seen.
I couldn't help but stare along with the rest of the public. He was wearing black jeans, boots and a muscle shirt, but that wasn't what made me stare.
The left side of his arm was scarred. From vampire bites.
The music came on, and he began swaying sensually to its rhythm. As he moved, I could see that the scars littered his neck as well as his other arm. I stared in horrified silence.
"Isn't he a thing of beauty?" I heard Sora whisper in an awestruck tone. I turned my horrified gaze to her.
Before I could answer her, I felt Nancy's hand come up to clutch my elbow. I looked down at her. She was looking at the stage too, as if unable to move her gaze, but thankfully she looked more appalled than fascinated.
I didn't particularly like PDAs, or touching in general, but I put my hand over hers, offering her whatever comfort I could. I looked back at the stage in time to see that Ford was standing above us, and that Sora was putting bills in his waistband, while she peppered his scarred chest with kisses. I looked closer. Or rather bites.
I closed my eyes in despair, then opened them immediately afterwards. Ford had moved away to another client, and the crowd was still looking on in fascination. Nancy gasped in pain, and I looked down to see that I was squeezing her hand hard. I forced myself to relax. Nancy went back to looking at the show.
After a few more minutes, I gave up. Gently, I extricated myself from Nancy's grasp and stoop up as subtly as possible, which wasn't very much. Nancy gave me a questioning look, and I mouthed the words 'bathroom break' at her. She nodded her head, and I made my way between the tables crammed with ecstatic women until I reached the hallway I knew led to the bathrooms.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Blessed silence at last. Leaning my head back against the cold wall, I let myself enjoy the break from the music and the screaming women and the poor kid who looked like a happy meal, vampire edition.
It didn't last long. In the silence, I easily picked up the conversation going on a few meters away. While I couldn't hear the actual words, I could still recognize Kavanaugh's nasal voice. Curiosity gripped me, and I followed the voices along the corridor, and as silently as I could manage, put my ear on the closed door behind which Kavanaugh seemed to be having a shouting match.
"I already told you what he said. He doesn't want to have anything to do with vampires, and he's a goddamn stubborn son of a bitch!"
"I know what you said, you moron. What I'm asking you is whether he seemed to know anything that he wasn't telling you."
It was McKay's voice. He sounded irritated, which wasn't a surprise, since Kavanaugh would probably manage to irritate a saint, and McKay was as far from a saint as you could get. What surprised me was the subject of their conversation. Namely, me. Unless there were a lot of others stubborn son of bitches to whom Kavanaugh had offered a job recently, of course.
"I don't know. No, I don't think so," came Kavanaugh's uncertain reply. There was the sound of shifting bodies, then McKay's angry voice.
"You don't think so? For god's sake, can you be anymore useless? It was a very simple mission, it's not like I asked you to do something which required actual intelligence-"
Before I could stop myself, I'd opened the door and was standing in the doorway, glaring at McKay, who'd immediately turned at the sound.
"Why don't you ask me directly, instead of sending minions to do it in your stead?"
"Get out," McKay ordered, taking a step towards me and revealing Kavanaugh's cowering form.
"Didn't you hear him?" Kavanaugh yelled, sending me a venomous look. "Get out!" He was probably angry that I'd seen him being less than confident, to say the least.
McKay spared him an irritated glance. "Not him, you, you idiot." Kavanaugh's face twisted in embarrassment, then he scurried out of the room, still glaring at me. I shifted out of the way to avoid any unnecessary contact, which unfortunately brought me closer to McKay.
The door closed shut behind us, and a feeling of unease overcame me, but it was too late to get out now. McKay was frowning, watching me intently with his arms crossed while he leaned on the desk behind him. I looked at the wall behind him, face tight.
"Why did you send Kavanaugh?" I finally broke. McKay startled, as if I'd surprised him by speaking first. I'd surprised myself too.
He watched me in silence, as if contemplating whether to answer honestly or not. "I couldn't send anyone you knew to be related to me, plus I thought you'd be more sympathetic to him since you knew him when he was, you know, human."
I raised an eyebrow at that. Sympathetic and Kavanaugh? If that wasn't an oxymoron, I don't know what is. McKay made a face, as if he too realized the ludicrousness of his statement.
I nodded my head, to signal that I'd understood. "Why did you refuse?” He demanded.
"You mean, besides the fact that it was Kavanaugh?" I asked. His mouth tilted to one side, as if he was about to smile. "I don't work for vampires."
McKay laughed, his human laugh. I hated it. "No, you don't work for vampires; you just… kill them, right?"
He looked at me from head to toe, a secret smile on his lips, like we'd just shared a joke. I knew what the joke was, and it made me want to puke. I clenched my fists to keep from hitting him. Funny how all our interactions ended that way. "Yeah, that's right. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a piss."
I turned on my heels and wrenched the door open. He didn't try to stop me. I stormed off to the bathroom, gaze red with anger. It was empty, thank god. I didn't want to scare some poor bystander. I splashed my face with cold water several times, until I felt a little calmer.
I looked at myself in the mirror. Familiar hazel eyes looked back at me. My hair was as out of control as ever, and drops of water still ran over my face to worm themselves into my collarbone. But that wasn't what I was looking at. I pulled aside the collar of my t-shirt until I could see the scar on the junction of my neck.
I looked at the vampire bite for a long time, unconsciously fingering it, lost in memories of a time where the world had been ignorant of vampires, and I'd been just as ignorant as anyone, a time where I'd had everything. I'd been young, in love, and happy.
Then my lover nearly drained me of blood, leaving me to die, and my world came crashing down around me. Vampires existed, and vampires didn't love. They just used.
The sound of the door clicking shut brought me back to myself with a start. I let go of my shirt, covering up my scar, and turned to look at the newcomer.
He was average in height, with short brown hair and a light beard. He was also a vampire. A stripper vampire, because he was wearing a costume, obviously waiting to go on stage. He smiled at me.
"You must be John Sheppard. I heard you were here. I'm Ladon Radim."
Great, that's just what I needed. "Yeah," I nodded, then made a move towards the door. He refused to budge, blocking my exit, and I scowled at him. What was it with vampire and getting in my way recently?
"Could you move?" I asked. Just for a change, I decide to try politeness before bringing out the big guns, which were unfortunately purely figurative in this case. Why the hell didn't I pack my gun?
Oh, right, bachelorette party.
He smirked, and angled himself away from the door, so that I'd still be forced to touch him if I wanted to go out. My jaw clenched. Screw politeness.
He tried to look me in the eyes, but I evaded him, which seemed to infuriate him, because I could feel him try to roll my mind. I dug my short nails into my skin, hoping that the pain would help me throw him off. But it didn't.
Or rather, it didn't have to. I could feel the vampire's power like a rip tide trying to drag me under, only to glance off me without any effort on my part. The vampire looked surprised. I was surprised too, but I hid it quickly.
Being an animator, I've always had a natural resistance to vampire mind tricks, but this went way beyond that. And I didn't have a clue where it came from.
I bluffed my ass off by flashing the vamp a triumphant look, and I could only hope he didn’t realize what I was actually doing. He kept staring at me, still not moving, and I was contemplating going from victoriously smug to pissed and deadly when my cell phone went off.
Maybe it was the ringtone, but Radim bugged out quick. I got the phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, but it went silent before I could answer. I checked the missed calls list, and cursed. I called back quickly.
Detective Samantha Carter answered on the first ring. Apparently, the police need my expertise at the Evergreen Cemetery.
I offered to drive Nancy home on my way to the scene, but she wanted to stay. Apparently, she liked Radim's performance. I guess there's no accounting for taste. She said she'd get a cab. In the Blood District. Yeah, right. I promised to come back to drive her, then set off to the cemetery.
There's nothing like a good old crime scene to take your mind off pesky vampires after all.
**********************************
It took me thirty minutes to get from the District to the Evergreen Cemetery. When I got there, Sergeant Radek Zelenka was waiting for me at the entrance with a maniac grin on his face. Zelenka was short, Czech and was dating Elizabeth, my boss. They'd accidentally met when Zelenka had been by the office to drop some papers for me, and he'd been besotted with her ever since, much to my chagrin.
I parked the car behind the one I vaguely recognized as Carter's, and got my sidearm out of the glove compartment, where I kept it hidden. I got out of the car, and put my 9mm Glock under my jeans, in the absence of my usual shoulder holster. I was dressed for a party, not traipsing through a crime scene. Although if I'd known in advance where the party was going to take place, I sure as hell would have packed my gun. Among other things.
I didn't bother locking the car. I headed for Zelenka, zipping up my jacket against the cold as I went, and watched with dread as his grin widened when I got level with him. I glared at him. I wasn't in the mood for his jokes. "Don't say it," I ordered, as we walked toward the yellow police tape that was circling around tombstones.
"Say what?" he asked, raising his hands innocently. I wasn't fooled.
We went underneath the tape and found ourselves face to face with Detective Sergeant Samantha Carter, head of the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team, or RPIT as it was more commonly called. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she was wearing jeans and a shirt. I guess it'd been her night off too. She smiled when she saw us, but it had a strained quality to it.
"Sam," I greeted her, and followed as she led us past a few tombstones. The scene was empty, as every other expert had probably already been by and I was the last one left, which was convenient for me since it meant I didn't have to take care not the disturb the crime scene. Which in this case consisted of the dismembered body of a young woman.
We came at a stop a few feet from the corpse. The head had rolled away and was resting against a tombstone nearby. I put on the latex gloves Zelenka offered me with familiar movements, and took a few steps towards it, crouching down. A neat set of fangs gleamed at me when I parted her lips, and I sighed.
Another vampire murder. Because that was just what my night needed.
I turned back to the two police officers, who were looking at me silently. "Do you know who she is?"
"Surprisingly, yes," answered Carter, "she had papers on her." I raised an eyebrow.
"Jeannie Miller, vampire citizen since Addison v. Clark. Manager at the Laughing Corpse, a vampire theatre in the District," read Zelenka from the note pad he was holding.
I knew what the Laughing Corpse was. I also knew who the owner was. I frowned thoughtfully, suddenly realizing that all the previous murders had been vampires who'd worked for McKay, in some form or another. Zelenka and Carter were looking at me expectantly, but for reasons I didn't want to examine too closely, I decided to keep the info to myself. They'd probably make the connection themselves soon enough anyway. I turned to examine the rest of the corpse, avoiding their looks.
If you didn't consider the fact that her head wasn't attached to her body anymore; she looked perfectly fine. There were no signs of defensive wounds or other marks of violence. I told Carter as much. She nodded. I wasn't telling her anything new. I frowned back at the body.
Unfortunately, after a more thorough examination, the only useful information I could glean was that Jeannie Miller liked to paint each toenail with a different color. That is to say, not very useful at all. I turned back to Carter and Zelenka, and removed the gloves.
"The murder was probably committed here," I said, "There would be less blood if she'd been moved."
Carter nodded again, and we both stared at the large amount of blood surrounding the body, soaking through Miller's blonde hair. I grimaced. It wasn't a pretty sight. I could feel my dinner threatening to come back the wrong way.
"Who do you think did this?" asked Carter. I shrugged, and she smiled wearily. "Fine, who do you think would be able to do this, then?"
I looked around us. The cemetery was otherwise undisturbed, no shattered tombstones or damage whatsoever. "A vampire, a lycanthrope, anything with preternatural strength, really. But that's not the question you should be asking."
Carter nodded, pushing back a strand of hair the wind had blown into her face. "I guess not."
Zelenka looked at us both, then at the corpse. He pushed back his glasses, frowning. "Yes. We should rather be asking what the hell could take a vampire by surprise."
"And what was she doing alone in a cemetery in the first place," added Carter.
I shrugged again, and refrained from making the obvious joke. I wasn't that tactless. After a while, we turned our backs on the body and began walking back to our cars in silence.
"So, a bachelorette party, huh?" Zelenka asked suddenly, snickering. I could feel Carter swallow back her own laughter. I glared at him.
"Shut up." We were nearly at my car, and I increased my pace, hoping to reach it before the teasing could seriously begin.
"Did you paint toenails and do each other's hair?" he called at my back, and I forced myself to open the car door calmly.
"If you don't shut up, Zelenka, I'll tell Elizabeth you think her new haircut makes her look old," I called back, before closing the door on his embarrassed face. I gave him a cheerful wave through the window, then started the car and drove out of the cemetery, and back to Guilty Pleasures.
I could already feel my good humor slip away, and anxiousness wedge itself in my stomach. Of course, I could always not tell McKay anything, and hope that I could get Nancy out and home without meeting him, but knowing my luck, the chances of that were slim to none. And McKay would probably be able to smell the vampire blood on me, or something equally as creepy.
So really, telling him up front was probably the more sensible course of action. Only, how the hell do you tell a Master Vampire that another of his vampires was dead without sounding like you were accusing him of the goddamn crime?
I guess I was about to find out.
************************************
Thirty minutes later, I got lucky and found an empty parking place not too far from Guilty Pleasures. As I walked the rest of the way, I grabbed my cell and dialed Nancy's. As I expected, she didn't answer. I guess her cell phone ringing didn't have a chance in hell of catching her attention while incredibly attractive men- vampires, whatever- were dancing around naked.
I let it ring a few more times for good measure then cut the call. There went plan A. Plan B was to get the hell out of there and erase this freaking night from my memory. As tempting as it was, I decided it didn't make a very good plan. Hence, plan C.
Teal'c the vampire bouncer let me pass with an impassive nod, and I swiftly gave my wristband to the holy item check girl, who scurried off with it. I went inside.
To my consternation, the place was even more packed than before. I located our table after a few seconds. Unfortunately, Nancy was nowhere to be seen; the only woman still sitting there was Sora. I thought about crossing through to ask her. I cocked my head, watching as her blonde curls bounced along with the drunken swinging of her head.
Yeah. Maybe not. I decided to check the bathroom first. It was empty. I even checked under the stalls, which earned me weird looks from the two entering brunettes. I gave them my most charming smile as I passed them.
"Ladies," I nodded, before quickly leaving. I was standing in the intersection between the bathroom corridor and the hallway that led to the stage when I suddenly caught a sight that left me frozen in place. I'd finally found Nancy. She looked alright after all, and she'd tied up her hair back sometime during the night. Unfortunately, she was also in deep conversation with none other than Rodney McKay. He said something, and she laughed. I recognized the laugh. Sadly, it was her sincere one.
I ground my teeth and walked towards them. McKay saw me coming over her shoulder, and broke off speaking. The smile fell off his face. "Sheppard," he said.
Nancy turned to look at me, smiling brilliantly. "John, you're here."
"Yeah." I glared at McKay, who raised an unimpressed eyebrow. An awkward silence followed.
"I'd better go," McKay said. He inclined his head, "Nancy, it's been a pleasure." He turned on his heels, and began walking off stiffly, leaving Nancy looking baffled. I watched him go for a second, before sighing. "McKay, wait," I called. He turned to look at me, surprised. "We need to talk."
Looking haughty, he crossed his arms, and for a second, I was convinced he was going to refuse. I don't know what he saw on my face, but his expression seemed to soften, and he inclined his head towards his office. I checked if Nancy was alright and told her to wait for me before following him.
I closed the door behind me, and turned to look at McKay, who was watching me thoughtfully, leaning against his desk. A terrible feeling of déjà-vu overcame me, and I could only hope this conversation wasn't going to end as our last one did.
Yeah, fat chance of that.
"Look McKay, I, that is…" Suddenly, I didn't know what to say. The words died on my throat, and we looked at each other in silence for a long moment.
"I wanted to apologize," McKay said unexpectedly. I stared at him. Blinked twice. Things just went from awkward-as-hell to fucking-weird land, and my brain needed a little time to catch up.
"Huh?" I asked intelligently.
"About my earlier behavior. It was …inappropriate."
Okay, weird didn't even begin to cover this. I didn't know what to say. Okay, I had a lot of things to say, but none of them were conducive to a civil exchange, and I didn't want this to degenerate into a fight. I finally decided that silent nodding was the best course of action. He smirked, as if he knew what I was thinking, which I wouldn't completely put past him.
"Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." Yeah, like I would ever want to talk about that. "I was actually called away on police business." Like he could ever scare me into running away, although he obviously believed it. Whatever.
McKay straightened, his back going stiff and his face taking on the focused expression he wore when confronted with a problem. The cramps in my stomach tightened, and I had a sudden bad feeling about this.
"It was another vampire murder. She worked for you. Her name was Jeannie Miller."
McKay froze, his body inhumanly still. Silence built.
"John," he finally said. "Get out."
The shock of hearing my name on his lips again kept me frozen in place for a second too long. One of the bookcases covering the walls came flying toward me and I dived out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed by it.
The bookcase impacted against the wall with such force the cement broke. I watched with wide eyes as more and more furniture went crashing everywhere in uncontrolled chaos. I tried to get to the door, but the desk crashed against it and blocked my way, and I had to quickly take cover behind the overturned couch.
McKay was standing in the middle of the chaos, unmoving. I called his name, and his head turned toward me. Okay, maybe not my best plan ever. His skin seemed to be stretched too thin on his face, and his eyes had bled over, until the only thing left was a sea of deep, enraged blue.
As I got my gun out, just to make myself feel less defenseless, Ladon Radim appeared in the doorway. He only had a second to take stock of the situation before he had to duck behind the couch and next to me, which was the only viable cover in the room.
"What did you do?"yelled Radim. "Nothing!" I yelled back indignantly. Another bookcase crashed over our heads. We ducked in time. "Well, besides telling him that Jeannie Miller was murdered," I admitted.
Radim, who had been cautiously peeking over the couch, turned abruptly towards me. "Shit," he swore. I'd never thought vampire could look this anxious. "She's his sister," he said, leaving me speechless for a moment. I hadn't known Jeannie Miller was his sister. Hell, I hadn't known McKay had a sister. A pang of hurt for him overcame my panic for a moment, which promptly came back as Radim moved with preternatural speed, dodging a flying knife which would have lodged itself in his throat, and threw himself at McKay.
Radim was probably aiming to tackle him, but he only succeeded in breaking the inhuman stillness McKay had settled into. The vampire threw his head back and howled, an unearthly sound that chilled me down to my bones, then proceeded to beat Ladon Radim to a bloody pulp, easily thwarting the other vampire's attempt at protecting himself.
I was petrified in place, more scared than I'd ever been in a long time, as I watched McKay throw the other vampire around, until Radim hit the wall with a sickening crush, both his bones and the cement breaking from the force of the blow. Although it was probably cheap cement that'd crack after being hit with what amounts to a bag of water and sticks, a vampire was way harder to damage, let alone to that extent.
I fingered the safety off my gun, even as I knew it would be useless. If a vampire as old as Radim was powerless against McKay, what fucking chance did a handful of bullets have? And that was supposing I could shoot McKay, which I wasn't so sure of.
Suddenly, Nancy's voice came from the hallway."John, what's going-" She stopped, eyes widening in shock at the nightmarish sight that faced her. She took an instinctive step backwards, and I silently gestured for her to get the hell out of there. Unfortunately, it was too late, for her voice had already grabbed McKay's attention, and he left Radim's battered body where it lay broken against the wall, taking a step towards her.
Nancy screamed, and I fired my gun. It had the effect I expected, which was pretty much nothing. Before I knew it, I'd thrown myself on him, discarding the half empty gun in favor of grabbing him from behind in a useless attempt to buy Nancy more time to get out. It would probably take him less than a second to throw me off, but I had to try, for Nancy's sake.
To my utter surprise, instead of finding myself splattered against the wall, I felt McKay's body relax against mine. On reflex, I circled my arms around him and held on. His hand grabbed mine and tightened around it enough to hurt.
He could have broken my hand, but he didn't. I looked down at his face, and our eyes met. They were sky blue, bright with unshed tears, but they were normal again.
"John," he sighed, before his eyes closed and he let himself rest against me. I let us fall gently to the floor, unable to support our combined weight for long. Rodney's face was human again, pale and vulnerable, making my heart clench unexpectedly. I instinctively tightened my hold on him, cradling the back of his head with my free hand. The other one was still clutched underneath his, and I felt him give it a last gentle squeeze before letting go, waiting for me to extricate it.
I left it there.
***********************************
Most of the time, I found vampire powers either exceedingly annoying or seriously creepy, but I had to admit to a serious case of envy of their regenerative capacities, which would sure come in handy in my line of work. Not long after being used as a sentient punching bag and having most of his bones shattered, I watched Ladon Radim slowly stand up, shakily sure, but still standing up nonetheless.
He looked at me, holding McKay's form protectively, and his eyes narrowed in speculation. Or maybe it was pain. It was hard to tell with vampires, what with not being able to really look them in the eye and all.
Another vampire came barreling through the doorway, where Nancy was still standing in a state of shock, shouldering her out of the way easily. The newcomer was blonde, dressed in a business suit and was wearing an expression of utter astonishment.
I've never seen a vampire look that stunned before. I guess there was a first to everything. Good job there, Sheppard.
"What the fuck happened here?" yelled the blonde vampire, apparently over her surprise. Her eyes fell on Radim, and they narrowed angrily. Obviously, there was no love lost between these two. "Radim, this better be good," she ground out, looking between the battered vampire leaning against the wall and me, cradling her boss on the floor. I guess we made an interesting picture. Crap.
I resisted the urge to drop McKay like a sack of hot potatoes and gently eased him on the floor instead, then got up. I discreetly located my gun where I'd tossed it on the floor, and inched toward it carefully, expression innocent.
Both vampires abandoned the staring contest they had been silently engaging in, in favor of swiveling their heads and staring at me. Their eyes narrowed. I guess my "I know nothing" look wasn't fooling anyone. Too bad.
Before the situation could degenerate into a fight, McKay's voice came from the floor. "Simpson," he snapped, but his voice lacked its usual bite. "Let him go," he ordered, much to my surprise. By the expression on the other vampires' faces, it wasn't exactly what they expected either.
However, Simpson quickly composed herself, and with a last glare in my direction, proceeded to completely ignore me, crossing the room and bending down next to McKay. I quickly decided that the situation called for strategic running away, and after getting back my gun, did just that, ushering a panicky Nancy out with me.
I answered her bewildered questions with some bullshit story about vampire skirmishes and anger management, and we made a quick detour to retrieve a drunken Sora before leaving Guilty Pleasures. I put my wristband back in place with a sigh of relief, as we walked the few blocks to where I'd parked the car. I supported Sora's inebriated form all the way there, since Nancy's steps were wobbly themselves.
After depositing Sora at her flat, we drove in silence towards Nancy's house. She still looked out-of-sorts, even though she didn't seem scared anymore. I guess the amount of alcohol in her system must have something to do with it. She'd probably convinced herself she'd imagined most of it by now.
"You never said you knew Rodney when you were in college," said Nancy suddenly, and my head snapped to look at her in shock.
"What?" I asked in a strangled tone, as I forced myself to look back at the road. "Did Rod-McKay say that?"
She nodded. "Yeah, we talked earlier. He was nice." I nearly burst out laughing. McKay, nice? Maybe Nancy was drunker than what I first thought. I looked sideways at her, and found her frowning thoughtfully.
"Well, not nice, exactly. But he was, charming, I guess. Didn't seem so scary then." She shook her head. "Anyway, yeah, he mentioned you'd met before. That must be what, eight years ago, right? "
"Ten," I said, looking intently at the road.
"That must be weird for you, to know he was actually a vampire all along," she persisted. I could feel her staring at me carefully.
"Nancy," I began, turning to look at her. Her eyes widened. "We're here."
"What?" Her head swiveled to look out of the window. I brought the car to a stop near her apartment building. We sat in the car in silence for a while, before she reached for the handle and opened the door. She looked back at me, a foot out of the car already, her expression softening.
"Thanks for everything, John," she said. I nodded, offering her a rueful smile. "You're welcome." Nancy smiled at me, then leaned over quickly and kissed me.
My eyes widened in surprise. God, I never saw those things coming. The kiss ended while I sat there frozen like an idiot. Nancy cupped my cheek for a moment, looking me in the eyes, before smiling sadly and getting out of the car. I watched her go inside through the window, bemused.
Okay, this night just kept getting weirder and weirder. The radio was silent as I drove back to my apartment. I didn't feel like listening to music. All I kept thinking about was Jeannie Miller's body, her blue eyes staring at me sightlessly from her cut off head. Belatedly, I realized they were the exact same shade as Rodney's.
When I got there, the apartment was silent. I frowned, before remembering that Teyla had an investigation going on, and she was probably out tailing someone's wife or something.
I checked the answering machine. There was a message from Teyla, telling me she was going to be late and not to wait up for her. I watched some TV half-heartedly while having a snack, then gave up and went to sleep.
I dreamt of Jeannie Miller.
***************************
My alarm went off at seven. I fumbled around till I hit the snooze button. Five minutes later, a knock sounded on my bedroom door. With a moan, I burrowed my head under the pillow, until I heard Teyla calling to me.
Right. We were supposed to go on a morning run. Damn. Fifteen minutes later, I was tying my running shoes as I watched Teyla finish her meditating exercises.
We began with a few warms up, then settled into an easy jog. Teyla's hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, leaving the nape of her neck bare. Her bronze skin soon began gleaming with a slight sheen of sweat.
We talked as we ran. I told her about what happened the previous night. Teyla was probably one of the few people to whom I felt comfortable talking, probably because she had the rare quality of listening without judging. If I were a woman, I'd probably call her my best friend. As it is, she was - someone I could talk to, I guess.
Teyla listened silently as I told her about Jeannie Miller's murder and Rodney's reaction. When I finally fell silent, she raised an eyebrow. "And they just let you leave."
"Yeah, I'd thought I was going to have to fight my way out for sure, but McKay ordered that Simpson woman to let us go, and she did."
I shrugged. Yeah, I realize it looked suspicious. No, I had no desire to talk about it further. I wasn't sure I'd been able to convey all of that silently, but Teyla seemed to get the message anyway. "And now, you are feeling guilty and think you should have done more to catch the murderer, even though that would have been very unlikely." Or maybe not.
I winced. "Maybe." Teyla was right. Even though Jeannie Miller should have been nothing more than another vampire murder, she was Rodney's sister and whether I wanted to admit it or not, that made a difference to me.
"Yeah," I finally acknowledged. I passed my hand through my hair uncomfortably. We jogged the rest of the way in silence, watching the few other joggers and morning people move around us, and businesses slowly open up and get ready to begin the day.
"I'm going to accept McKay's offer," I said, as we slowly came to a stop when we neared the café that was our half-way mark, and turned around. Teyla looked at me, the secret smile that meant I was being amusingly predictable stretching her lips. I guess that was one of the drawbacks of having a - someone I could talk to.
"Do you have any leads?" she asked instead, frowning thoughtfully. She was probably already sketching a list of possible suspects in her head.
"Well, I guess it'd be a safe bet to cross humans off the list," I said, frowning when Teyla shook her head. I made a face, mentioning for her to continue, but she seemed reluctant.
"Do you think HAV could have anything to do with it?" I asked finally. HAV, or Humans Against Vampires, was essentially a hate group against vampires. But the last time I checked, they were still trying to have the vampires' citizen status revoked legally, not going around beheading them.
"My contact inside HAV recently alluded that there was talk of forming another group, which would use more 'direct' methods in their fight against vampires," she said, the displeased expression in her face indicating what she thought of that. More direct methods, my ass.
Because that was just what the world needed; more vigilantes against vampires.
Unfortunately, Teyla didn't have any more details, but she promised to contact her source and try to get more intel about this new group.
I kept thinking about it for the rest of the morning, as I drove to Animators Inc. and met with my first client of the morning. The more I thought about it though, the more I was convinced HAV wasn't responsible for the murders.
For one thing, except for Jeannie Miller, all the vampires had been found murdered in the District, not far from their work place. That meant the murders had been quick and silent, which sure as hell wouldn't be the case if humans had been involved.
Furthermore, their heads had been cleanly severed with one strike. Talking from personal experience here, bone is hell to cut through, and I can usually only manage to do it during legal executions because the vampire is chained down, doped to the gills so it doesn't move, and because I use an axe. That's not the case with the murders. The angle of the cuts says the vamps were on their feet when they died, and the tox screen the cops ran couldn't have turned up anything weird, or Sam would have mentioned it. No, someone, or something, with supernatural strength was doing this. I was sure of it.
Of course, Teyla was right and I couldn't entirely remove HAV from my list of suspects. For all I know, they could have had a supernatural creature working for them, unlikely as that was. So much for narrowing down my list of suspects.
Fortunately, I only had two zombie raisings planned for the night, and they shouldn't normally take more than three hours tops, which would leave me enough time to go to the District and talk to McKay, and maybe swing by the Laughing Corpse, where Jeannie Miller had worked. The police had probably been by, but I didn't have a better lead, and I had to begin somewhere after all.
I just hoped I wouldn't make more unpleasant meetings. Yeah, wishes in one hand, crap in the other-
I made a note to pack my gun. Just in case.
Part Two