NaNoWriMo 2009 - Blood Soaked Lovers [ 3 / 10 ]
Title: Blood Soaked Lovers
Rating: NC-17 / MA
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairings: Slight McCoy/Kirk
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not the characters nor the song titles
Warnings: none to speak of
Summary: “Have you ever wanted to be a witch hunter, Father?”
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CHAPTER THREE: VATER UNSER (OUR FATHER)
Jim Kirk woke up just as the sun began to rise, the ringing of his cell phone alarm jarring him from his nice sleep. His head was throbbing but he had been expecting that since he had first touched the strong whiskey Leonard had taken out yesterday. He knew where the other kept the headache medicine and something non-alcoholic to take it with so it was no big deal. He stretched carefully, shivering when his blanket fell too far down his body and exposed him too quickly to the cold of the house itself once the fire had died out. How he had gotten the blanket he couldn’t remember but it hardly mattered. The alarm that rang told him he had about two hours to get to work. He made sure he had half an hour to doze when he set that alarm just to make sure. The cold, however, was taking away his will to do just that… he needed to warm up a bit more.
Running a hand through his blond hair, Kirk got to his feet, thankfully still socked, and covered up a yawn as he padded towards the bedroom, knowing McCoy would be sleeping deeply by now. The poor bastard had to sleep during the day, it seemed, or be driven insane. He had learned early on just how sensitive the vampire’s skin was to sunlight and made sure not to accidentally let the other man be exposed to it when he moved around the house during the day but he always did feel bad when his friend said that he barely remembered what it felt like to be warmed by the sunlight anymore. Maybe, he thought, he should get the guy some heating lamps for Christmas that he could curl up under while he slept and feel as if he was laying in the sun without being burned. Heh, how awkward. Getting a present for a priest who had taken a vow of poverty.
Jim opened the door to the bedroom as quietly as possible when he snuck in and left it open as he got closer to the bed, unable to help the fluttering butterflies in his stomach at the sight of his best friend sleeping literally like the dead. He was laying on his side, facing the right hand side of the bed, with his clothes on from the night before and only a thin sheet resting on around his hips. His chest did not move as he breathed and the human was sure that if he checked there would be no pulse. It wasn’t as if the vampire needed breathe anyway. It was simply done out of habit. The man had one hand underneath the pillow he was laying on while he other resting comfortably against the mattress. He looked peaceful for once.
But the peace was disquieting to Jim so he threw his blanket over the bed before gently sliding under both his blanket and the new sheets, curling up against the human shaped body trying to find warmth. The skin felt so cold to his touch. He shivered at the contact with it and snuggled closer, wrapping his arm around the bigger body to hold it against him. Apparently this was enough to wake the man but not enough to make him move too much. All he said was “Dammit Jim, I’m a priest, not a teddy bear.” in a low murmur but he did hold onto the hand that rested against his chest, as if feeling for his heartbeat.
Kirk, however, didn’t care about his friend’s words. He buried his nose in the vampire’s neck, letting the short black hairs at the base of the man’s skull tickling his skin. He could smell the man’s shampoo and natural smell, not entirely a human musk but not entirely the smell of death either, was a strange combination that he could only identify as unique to this man. While it was true he loved his share of women and the fun that came with them, he could not bring himself to turn down a man who had also been handsome enough to garner his attention. While it was kind of awkward to admit, it was the primary reason he was friends with his creature he was now snuggling against.
After all, who wouldn’t find Father Leonard McCoy attractive? He had a scruffy face and a scruffy demeanor to match but that alone wasn’t enough to deter the police captain when he had first spoken with the newcomer to the village in the bar that night. It had been the man’s eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes, tinged in red and bronze that that sucked away the mortal’s breath and indirectly took a piece of his heart he knew hew wasn’t going to get back any time soon. The twitching eyebrows on the man’s face, so much more expressive than his tone half the time, only seemed to emphasize them and the way the color varied depending on his mood kept him captivated. One day he hoped to be able to read the man’s mood just by the color of his eyes.
Jim could feel his eyes fluttering shut but didn’t bother to fight the urge, allowing himself the comfort of using his friend as human teddy bear of sorts and warming the other up as if he was a real stuffed animal, although he really wasn’t soft enough to fully qualify under that category. When he got up, he’d have to spend the day dealing with people he didn’t want to talk to, flirting with pretty ladies just to make sure he kept his reputation up, and forget about Leonard McCoy until the sun was setting and he had worn himself out chasing criminals or filling out paperwork or both. At least, during the day, he would have Scotty with him. The dog was always good company and was more of a help to the police officer than his partner was half the time. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn the creature was a reincarnation of some fool who messed with rules of magic he really shouldn’t have tried to mess with. He seemed too intelligent to just be a dog.
He dozed for a while until the cell phone’s alarm rang again, which he deactivated quickly with a groan. Dammit. Work called. He really didn’t want to go to work. He groaned and tried to go back to sleep but the humanoid body reached back and pulled the blankets off the man. “Get up already Jim,” McCoy’s sleepy voice snapped, “I need to get some kind of sleep and you need to get to work and take Scotty out for a walk.” Normally he would have walked the dog the night before but he had been too hungry and came back from his hunt too late to even think about taking the dog out into the freezing temperatures. Besides, Scotty had enjoyed playing with Jim last night, even while they drank.
“But Boooooones,” the cop whined, getting up anyway though shivering, “I was all nice and warm for once. Why can’t I just call in sick and sleep some more?” He grabbed the top blanket back around him to keep him warm and the vampire let him when he rolled onto his back, glaring at his friend. “You know you liked me cuddling with you too.”
“Two points against you. One, no I did not enjoy it. You’re way too warm. Two, where the fuck did you get that nickname from? I’m not a doctor anymore you know.”
The human grinned as he bundled up in the blanket again. It was soft and heavy. Just perfect. “You were a doctor back in the old days though right? You docs were called sawbones back then because it was what you did. But ‘sawbones’ is too gruesome to me so I’m just gonna call you Bones.” He tightened his hold on the blanket at the incredulous stare he got. “What?”
The vampire didn’t answer but instead covered his eyes with his black sleeved arm with a groan. “Just get going to work already you prick. I got a funeral to perform tonight and you know all the confessions that come with the late night rounds at the Church.” Why the people of this small village insisted on coming in at night for a confession when they could very well have come during the day without it being any more uncomfortable than it was during night? Not that he cared all that much. As long as he got to serve still, there was little he could bring himself to complain about.
Jim sighed and walked out of the room, just in time to have Scotty walk into his master’s bedroom and hop on the bed, yipping happily as he licked at his master’s face as if to wake him up. Leonard tried to push the dog away without hurting him. As much as he liked dogs, he really was tired. “Go away, boy. You know I sleep in the day. Go play with Uncle Jim.” He curled up on his side again, the dog tumbling onto the bed from where it had been standing on the vampire’s stomach. It got to it’s feet quickly and sat with it’s head cocked, as if wondering what the man had said. He didn’t bark. He just waited a minute before he got off the bed and hurried out to where the other human was.
By the time Kirk was dressed and ready to head out, Scotty had begun to whine pitifully, needing to go outside but unwilling to jump ahead of this man. The blond cop took pity on him and ruffled his fur on top of his head before buttoning up his coat again and opening the door, stepping outside into the bitter cold of the Russian winter. Before he let the door close behind him he called to his slumbering friend “See you tonight Bones! Love you!” He smiled to himself as he pulled the door shut and locked it. Why did saying that by itself sound so very right and yet, in and of itself, sound so very casual too?
Shaking his head, the cop decided to put his thoughts on the matter into a box, a very big box in the back of his mind, and turn his attention instead to the handsome dog that was in the process of burying his business, whatever it was. “You ready to go have fun annoying the hell out of the police folk?” he asked the terrier, who barked happily and hopped after him. The dog’s fur had been allowed to grow out and thicken so it was fine against the biting forty below winter chill for now but Jim knew better than to leave himself or the dog out here for very long. “Okay then, let’s get out of this frozen shit and warm up!”
When the sun set that night, bringing back with it the bitter bite of the winter chill from the night before and the winds to make it feel worse, Father Leonard McCoy woke up from his slumber, glad that his house was empty of anyone besides himself. That meant Jim was taking care of Scotty tonight. He wouldn’t have to worry about keeping the house warm enough for the animal while he was at work this night. That was a good thing since he had lost all sense of what was considered too cold or two warm over the years. He relied on Jim to tell him if the place needed a temperature adjustment usually, even if it was an unconscious thing on the human’s part. Sometimes the kid was far too stubborn for his own good.
Taking a quick look at the clock that rested on his nightstand, McCoy sighed and sat up, stretching out to bring a bit more blood movement to wake up his limbs a little more. Because his heart didn’t beat, there was no pins and needles feeling but the limbs did tend to feel lethargic if he didn’t rub at them and make them move in the mornings at least enough to be able to get the muscles beneath the cold skin to realize that it they could and would be able to move. The doctor in him said that it was something like rigor mortis that set in when he slept but he ignored that side in favor of trying to picture a less morbid explanation. After a few more stretches, he sat on the edge of his bed, gently working the sleep out of his eyes. Ugh. At least he could sleep during the day now, even if it was poorly.
Sitting up, the priest mad his way to the small bathroom connected to his and turned the water on higher than he had let it run during the night, slowly but surely increasing the temperature to what he deemed decent levels. Kirk had always said that showering in the temperatures Leonard did was like taking an ice bath. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that his body had no heat of it’s own so anything warmer than the room he was currently sitting in was plenty warm enough. At least not needing to turn up the heat meant he had to pay less in electrical bills.
After a hop under the spray and a ten minute wash, the vampire priest turned his water back on low and toweled himself dry, not bothering to look at the mirror in the room. He knew he wouldn’t see his reflection there, no matter how much he tried. A mirror showed the sinful mortal the image of themselves in reverse, an image of a perfect creature free of the sin that they carried in their souls while in the flesh. A vampire couldn’t see his reflection since he was dead. No matter what they did, they were damned to hell. He supposed that his work as a priest now was pretty useless but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of the white collar he had spent nine years earning just yet. Even if he couldn’t save people through surgeries anymore, the smell of blood far too tempting even in such a scenario, he needed to save people somehow. If he couldn’t save them physically from their stupidities, at the very least, he figured, he could save their souls.
After changing from his comfortable clothes from the night before into a black v-neck, black slacks, and socks with a black cassock on top, Leonard arranged his hair into some semblance of order and slipped on his white collar and crucifix once more, kissing the iron symbol of Jesus quickly before wearing it. He didn’t bother with any kind of breakfast since he couldn’t eat human food anymore (though he did keep it around for when Jim came to visit) though for some reason his body could tolerate alcohol pretty readily. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that bodies were preserved in something of an alcoholic substance.
Leonard made sure to grab his black leather gloves and looked around the cabin one more time while he put on his shoes to make sure he wasn’t leaving a fire hazard behind. Everything but the low hum of a heating system, set on ten degrees Celcius was off, including the lights, and not even an ember floated up from the fire place. Everything was secure and in their proper positions. Good.
With the shoes and gloves on, the priest stood and grabbed his keys before heading out into the night once more. At least there was no biting wind though the crunching of snow beneath his feet was comforting to some strange degree. He locked his door and turned around, looking at the nearby village to see what he could sense this night. He had to admit, his senses were much better at night than during the day now. As a scientist in a former life, it most certainly made sense too. Even without the sunlight to provide a medium to see through, he could see the whole country side as clear as if the sun was shining brightly overhead only through red glasses.
The snow looked to be a pale red and the lights from the houses flickered in a light orange by comparison. All the homes looked to be drenched in blood, a sight that chilled him even now, but the smells of the humans within each home assured him that no death had happened during the day. There was the faint touch of disease amongst the smell of the people and animals but the disease wasn’t all that strong and would most likely fade away by the end of the week. He was not good enough to be able to tell what sort of disease but from his experiences diseases that smelled that weak were hardly fatal.
He stepped off his small porch onto the main path that lead into the village, sinking ankle deep in the snow but he paid it no heed. Had he been a living man he would have worn boots to prevent getting his feet soaked like this but as it was he didn’t care quiet all that much. Besides, he had a church to get to and confessions to listen to. Then there was the whole minor ceremony that comes before that. If there was one thing he had to say about the Catholic faith it would be that they were big on ceremonies. He supposed it was better than some of the other religions in the area which didn’t last nearly as long as this church did though they were nearly wiped out some centuries ago in this country by an eastern tradition of the same faith.
The church he was heading towards was in the center of the small town. It was several centuries old and as he walked along the stone roads which no one bothered to update since cars were unreliable in these parts. Some people owned horse and buggies that they used to get around during the daylight hours but at night the horses were put away safely in their barns and the buggies were hidden away for the night. That meant anyone out beyond sunset would have to make their way through the bitter cold on foot. Who thought that one up not even he knew but it certainly wasn’t the smartest move on the part of the government. It hardly mattered to an undead creature like himself who could survive out in the cold if necessary.
As he walked through the cold too intense for most human beings to go out unless they were dressed much more heavily than he was he kept his vampire’s eyes towards the tall spires and steeples of the church he worked at. It was a tall, gothic structure built several centuries ago with the same stone and mortar that was common at the time and similar architecture. There were lights that shone upwards toward the spires, reflecting off the stained glass windows where the bells were kept. There were more lights, he knew, that would illuminate many of the windows when he got closer, most of them candles. He knew, in the night, that the light would work as a beacon for any wayward souls passing through this late and would probably be a shelter for the homeless against the cold until the sun rose once more. At least he would be able to save the souls of these men to compensate for the life he had taken the night before. In a way Leonard was grateful for the fact he was dead. He would only have to kill once a month unless he got injured severely.
The winds around him picked up just as he approached the church at long last, pulling the hem of his cassock from the snow and whipping it back behind him. His crucifix was pulled back over his shoulder, the black chord it was tied to catching on the white collar. His hair was disheveled again and was gathering snowflakes amongst the stands of black, snowflakes that wouldn’t melt until he walked into the building. There would be no red to his cheeks when he walked into the church from the cold. However, the only person present would be the old priest who could barely see beyond three feet in front of his face. It was an advantage in some regard, he supposed, even if he had to do all the work around the church during the night shift.
The stairs to the church were icy and unreliable but McCoy’s grip on the railings kept his feet steady and avoid slipping and cracking open his own skull. He may be a vampire but a cracked open skull was difficult to recover from. The doors opened just as he got to them and he smiled slightly as he looked up at the old man who held it open. “You’re early,” the elder priest said, stepping back to let his replacement through the door, “Though I can’t say I’m all that surprised. You’re usually early the night after the full moon.”
Leonard laughed softly, used to such comments. He knew this old fool didn’t suspect a thing. He was too modern a priest to believe vampires existed. “Yeah well, maybe it’s because I sleep better after the full moon,” he answered, not feeling bad at all since it was technically true. He always slept better with new blood in his system. “Was the day a busy one?” Once inside the entrance way, he shook the snow off his cassock and rearranged the crucifix against his chest once more. The old man reached up and arranged his hair and he let the guy.
“No, no, it wasn’t busy as all.” He always said that. “Just the odd boy who had a little too much to drink and an old lady or two looking to chat. You know how it is during this time of year.”
“Of course,” McCoy said, kicking the snow off his shoes at the matt and looking around the main room of the church, already deciding what to clean first. The organ looked like it needed dusting and some of the prayer candles needed to be replaced. “I suppose I had better get started then.” He meant both the cleaning and the prayers he would have to do before he could accept any confessions. Besides, he was expecting Jim to come by and pay him a visit just because. The kid was annoying like that.
“Well, good night my boy. May the Lord be with you.”
“And also with you,” he said almost automatically, the phrase something he had repeated for so long now it was practically engrained into his mind body and soul. He turned his attention back to the human just in time to shake his hand and smile for him before the old cripple stepped out the large wooden doors into the night. He would have wished the man well on his way home but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He did have that satanic pentagram carved into his back. He didn’t want to accidentally use the satanic power engraved into him to ensure the old fool of a priest was kept safe on his way home. He still had a good portion of his humanity left and he wasn’t willing to give it up just yet. He wasn’t that ready to become one of the beasts he had met over the years that devoured men like one would chickens.
Once the door closed behind the old priest, Leonard stepped forward into the church, dipping his fingers into the Holy water bowl at the opening and crossing himself with it carefully, doing his best not to hiss at the slight burning feeling on his skin upon contact with the blessed liquid. It didn’t exactly scar him too badly or eat through his flesh but he wasn’t completely unaffected by it as if he was human. He considered the burning a form of penance for being the undead monster that he was now. He walked calmly down the isle, fighting back the memories of the first time he did so, with the woman he had thought would be the love of his life, keeping his eyes focused on the giant crucifix that hung behind the alter, reminding the congregation and visitors of the sacrifice that the Lord made for his people. The symbol was morbid, he had to admit, but he understood the need for it.
McCoy stopped at the foot of the three small stairs to the alter and knelt down on the stairs, crossing himself again while muttering the words “In nomine Patris, et Filis, et Spiritus Sancti,” before launching into his quiet set of prayers that he always said before starting his duties for the night. The Latin rolled easily off his tongue, the only language he had ever really deemed worthy of used in prayer. It was neutral, favoring no real country except perhaps the Vatican though that was the city of the Church. He wondered vaguely if he would ever see the day that the language die away completely. He hoped it would never come.
“Amen.”
Echoing the word of someone else, the priest stood and turned, vampire’s eyes focused on the human that stood not too far from him, dressed entirely in black and still dusted with snow. The man didn’t sound familiar but smelled of silver. Immediately Leonard McCoy braced himself for a fight. The man could very well just be a parishioner looking for a confession who wore silver. The smell didn’t always mean hunter. “May I help you?” His words weren’t cold but they weren’t warm and welcoming either.
“I suppose you could Father,” the man answered, an amused grin touching his wrinkled features as he pulled off the hat that hid the silver of his hair. Leonard had to admit, this man was handsome for being so old. “Could you direct me towards where the police Captain James T Kirk would be?” At the suspicious look he was given he quickly added “He’s not in trouble. I just need to talk to him about something.”
“What makes you think I would know where he is? If he’s not at the police station, surely one of the secretaries would be able to tell you where he is.” He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight so that it rested more heavily on one side. He liked his human friend, quite a bit, and would loathe to have anything happen to him that could be prevented easily.
The man laughed and reached into his pocket, producing a business card that he held out towards the priest. Leonard couldn’t smell any trace of silver on it so he took it. He could see the man’s silver eyebrows shooting up while he read the name. Christopher Pike. The card said he worked for the American CIA but the vampire’s eyes were able to read the watermarks built into the card. A hunter. Well fuck a duck. This guy wanted to recruit Kirk into hunting creatures like him. He kind of figured the smell of silver was too strong on this guy to simply be jewelry.
With a sigh, the priest put the card in his pocket. There was a phone number on it. “I’ll make sure he gets the card and contacts you as soon as he can.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Jim would get it eventually. Just not right away. More like if he got into McCoy’s pants. Heavy emphasis on if. The man did have a pretty face and was tempting physically but that attitude was enough of a turn off to resist the face and fit body. It was going to be a very long while before his resistance wore down enough for that to happen. Hopefully by then this Pike guy would be long dead and there wouldn’t be an issue in the matter.
Christopher Pike smirked but didn’t seem deterred. “No you won’t. Not in the time period I want him to get it. But then again, why would a vampire want his best friend to be of the breed the hunts his kind?”
Leonard McCoy blinked at the man, startled for a second, then laughed heartily. He wouldn’t insult this guy’s intelligence by playing dumb. He could tell Pike had a sharp mind to match a sharp tongue. He made his way to the steps of the alter and took a seat, running his hand through his black hair. It felt wet from the melted snow the heat of the building had reduced to water. Not that he cared. “What gave me away then?” He looked into the human’s eyes and was surprised to see no hatred in them or malicious intent; just amusement.
“A vampire who can touch holy artifacts without burning on contact? You think that kind of thing would go unnoticed by the society?” It was Pike’s turn to laugh. “Not at all, Leonard. In fact, I was sent to talk to you too. It seems both you and your buddy, Jim, are being offered a unique position indeed.”
A hunter was talking to him without threatening to put a solve bullet through his head? It was so unrealistic it was almost laughable. He smirked and leaned forward against his knees. “A position huh? A position doing what?”
“Have you ever wanted to be a witch hunter, Father?”
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PART TWO: HAUNTED
PART FOUR: FEUER FREI! (OPEN FIRE!)