Calling the Shots, Part II
Fandom : Moonlight
Characters : Mick, Josef, Beth, OC
Rating : PG-13
Spoilers : Ep 1-16 of Moonlight, season 1
Summary : Mick and Josef’s spending New Year’s Eve together is a longstanding tradition. It’s the time for looking back at what was and looking ahead at what will be. This year, however, they decide to play a game of pool with high stakes...
Comment : a collaboration fic - Mick & Beth by swas, Josef by prkblackwolf
Disclaimer : The characters are not ours, no money is being made and no infringement is intended.
Read Part I first
Smirking at the wicked smile on Mick's that made his eyes glitter with a mischievous light, Josef approached the table and played expertly, calling and pocketing his balls one after the other with astonishing accuracy. When it came down to needing to pocket the 8-ball to win the game, Josef purposefully overshot the mark and didn't pocket the ball. He straightened with an exaggerated sigh. "Oh dear, I mustn't be on my game tonight," he said sadly. He would fully intend on winning the next game in record time, but for the moment, Josef wanted to see what Mick had in mind. This was plenty of time later for Josef to win. The night was still very young after all.
Mick could not suppress a small whoop. "Watch and learn," he said obnoxiously, hit the 8-ball with an exaggeratedly casual stroke and finished the game. He gave Josef a pointed look and smirked. "I hope you are ready for your dare," he taunted, the alcohol warming his cold blood.
He laid the cue down on the pool table and crossed his arms over his chest. "I want you…to go down to your neighbours, and -politely!- ask them for a cup of sugar, and bring it back here."
He could barely contain himself. He was pretty sure no one had ever come to call for a cup of sugar in this street! There were only villas and designer apartments here. If any of them ever needed anything, they'd have personnel to send out and get it. He doubted if Josef knew his neighbours at all. They were humans, after all, and Josef hardly was the one to socialise with his food.
Josef just stared at Mick in disbelief. This was his wicked idea? A cup of sugar. How much cognac had Mick drank anyway?! "This is your big dare? What are we supposed to do with a cup of sugar?" he asked calmly. Sure, if he went down the street to one of his neighbours and made a fool of himself by asking for a cup of sugar... and then it clicked. "You diabolical bastard. You're sending me out to slum with the little people."
Mick just smirked. This was too good. "It's just sugar, Josef," he said innocently. "I'm sure they'll have some for you if you ask nicely." He was enjoying his moment of triumph immensely.
"I always ask nicely. Are you saying I'm not a nice person, Mick?" Josef asked, angling his head to the side, looking Mick over calmly.
"I'm just saying - finishing them off afterwards is not allowed. Just get the sugar."
He grinned. "Who knows, you might make some new friends."
"I can't even have a bite to eat? You're inhuman," Josef said with a roll of his eyes, knowing that if Mick didn't say he couldn't, there wouldn't be anything stopping Josef from enjoying himself and having a little snack when he got the useless sugar. He would do this, and then he would enjoy his part of the dare even more. "One bowl of sugar coming up."
"Sure, if you want to reveal yourself to them, and have them tell the press. I'm sure they know a few directors interested in making a film out if it - everyone in Hollywood knows each other, after all."
He knew Josef wouldn't risk having his identity uncovered, so unless his neighbours were all too drunk to remember afterwards, biting them wasn't an option.
"There are always ways, Mick," Josef intoned calmly, making a brief stop to the kitchen to get a bowl. If he was going to knock on someone's door and make a fool of himself, he would have to do it properly. If he didn't cheat, then Mick wouldn't have an excuse for slipping out of his dare. "You can make yourself useful while I'm gone and rack the balls," he said on his way out of the apartment.
Mick shook his head in mirth. How he wished he could tag along and watch! But it would ruin the effect, as the point was that Josef would have to go there without backup. He gathered the balls from the pockets of the pool table and placed the triangle on the table, lining up the balls neatly inside the form. Then he took his glass and ambled over to the sideboard, helping himself to another drink while he waited.
After approaching the nearest neighbour - Josef wasn't going to be walking all night in these $900 Italian leather shoes - he knocked on the door, and when someone finally answered - more than a little intoxicated - Josef requested a bowl of sugar, a charming smile on his face. Waiting a few minutes for his friendly, intoxicated neighbour to return with the bowl of sugar, he listened to the merriment taking place in the apartment. When his neighbour retuned and gave him back the bowl, Josef looked down into it with a small frown. If this forfeited his part of the dare, he wasn't going to be impressed. He returned to his apartment to see Mick leaning against the pool table, a fresh drink in hand. "They gave me milk," he announced calmly. "I asked for sugar and they gave me milk."
Mick snorted and covered his mouth with his hand, almost spilling his drink over himself. The alcohol burned in his nostrils and against the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, and coughed.
"I guess that counts," he said after catching his breath. "Perhaps you-" he coughed again and cleared his throat, "looked more like a kitten than like someone who bakes on New Year's Eve."
Josef's eyes flashed silver as he narrowed them at Mick. "If I were you, I would quickly retract that kitten remark," he said coolly, depositing the bowl of milk in the fridge, having even less of an idea of what to do with it than the sugar. "My wonderful neighbour was so drunk, he wouldn't have even noticed if I didn't have my human visage on."
Mick drained a chuckle in his glass before forcing himself into a serious expression.
"I'm sorry, Josef," he said ruefully, dropping his head and looking up at his friend through his lashes, "but…you did lose. At 8-ball. To me."
Josef smiled at him coolly, picking up his cue and chalking it. He didn't rise to the bait. It just went to prove how well he had hidden his purposeful loss. "Do you want to see if you can do it again?" he asked calmly, wondering if Mick would still be able to hold his cue steadily. He had been enjoying the cognac.
"Sure," Mick said, taking up his cue and a piece of chalk. Coordination was getting a little tricky, and it took him two tries to unite cue stick and chalk. He took a deep breath. Perhaps the new glass of cognac had been a mistake. He'd need blood soon, to balance it out, clear his head. He straightened his back, took a deep breath and focused on his break. It was a sloppy hit, and spun the cue ball erratically over the table. It was only chance that made him pocket a single striped ball. He tried to hit another one, but only ended up spreading the balls in all directions.
"I uh- figured I should give you a fighting chance."
Josef watched him as he battled to chalk his cue, needing several attempts before the chalk actually reached the cue and not just thin air. His eyebrow arched at the sloppy break which still proved to be quite successful when Mick pocketed a ball. But sadly, that was where his luck ran out. Josef bowed his head graciously. "I will make use of it," he said calmly, smiling to himself before he began pocketing his balls, one after the other in quick succession.
Mick blinked at the speed the balls were hitting the corner pockets. He'd seen it happen often when Josef played against rookies in the club, after he had gotten bored toying with them and went in for a quick, clean kill to empty their pockets. Realisation was beginning to dawn on him, that Josef- already one glass behind on the cognac- might have been holding back. With that came the uneasy feeling that with the coming dare, he might get more than he bargained for.
When he was finally prepared to sink the 8 ball, glancing up at Mick, who now seemed to be rather white, Josef elegantly knocked the 8 ball into the corner pocket. He straightened with a calm smile, propping against his cue casually. "I win," he announced in a purr, his smile broadening when Mick seemed to pale further. "Oh don't be so scared Mick, nothing terrible is going to happen."
With Josef, you never know, Mick thought. "Good game," he overplayed his anxiety and nodded at the table, where all but one striped ball were still were he had left them. "I guess my luck had to run out at some point." He refused to admit that he had, most likely, been conned.
Josef nodded and placed his cue down on the pool table. "Indeed it did, especially after one too many cognacs on an empty stomach," he said as he slowly approached his friend. He was going to enjoy this, probably more than Mick was going to, but it would at least put his friend in touch with his true nature. He could do what he wanted without fear of recrimination. So really, this wasn't going to be so much of a dare as it was going to be a gift.
Mick swallowed as Josef came towards him with a predatory look on his face. A dozen possible scenarios raced through his mind, from the unlikely to the downright cruel. He resisted the urge to take a step back and stood his ground, raising his chin.
"And the dare?" he asked.
Josef chuckled softly, detecting the unease in Mick, his body tensing, most likely to stop himself from taking an involuntary step backwards. "The dare is an easy one. You'll bite a freshie. You need the blood, so it will be a two birds with one stone arrangement," Actually, it was a three birds one stone situation: it was Josef's dare, Mick needed the blood to find his balance after the alcohol, and Mick could do what it was in his nature to do, without fear of being found out and facing the music from his Beth.
Mick's jaw dropped. "That's..." Unfair? There was no fairness in their game. That's how dares worked. He frowned, his eyes avoiding Josef, going over possible escape routes. There weren't any - and he did need the blood. Trying to fight a rising panic, he told himself that Beth would never know. He'd done this a thousand times, before he knew her, before she was even born. He could do this. A part of him longed to do it. He could feel his fangs drawing out. "Okay," he said quietly, clenching his jaw.
And this was exactly the problem Josef was trying to correct. Mick had it stuck in his head that he was doing something wrong, and Beth's reaction was only furthering that mentality. Mick was doing what came naturally to him, he bit, he drank but he didn't kill. How many people had Mick bitten before he had a raging attack of conscience? Hundreds? Thousands? And now there was the Beth situation, complicating everything. Josef came to stand in front of his friend, their faces inches apart as he held Mick's gaze. "You shouldn't keep fighting with yourself about this. You're not doing anything wrong Mick, I don't understand why you believe you are. You're a vampire, you drink blood."
"I know," he said sadly.
Mick swallowed and met his friend's gaze. The last time they had been this close, Josef had turned him, on his request. Mick had chosen to be like this, to accept the full deal, knowing what it meant. He had not fought the pain of Josef's bite nor refused the blood that fell from his wrist. The memory stirred the bloodlust within him despite himself, and his eyes paled.
Josef could smell Mick's desire flare just as his eyes paled, the silvers orbs of his other self rising to the fore. He smiled sadly, hating to see his friend so torn, wanting to keep Beth happy but also trying to live with himself. He needed blood, that was the bottom line but he had reduced himself to getting his blood from the blood bank, denying himself the pleasure of biting a freshie, feeling that connection. Josef's own eyes turned silver. "You shouldn't keep denying yourself the connection. You have denied your own needs for so long, why don't you start the New Year off differently?"
Mick breathed in deeply and smelled the alcohol on Josef's breath. A trace of cigar-smoke. And that unmistakable essence of his blood pumping through his body. He remembered its taste, could pick it out from any other. It's what made him good at his job. He saw the veins on Josef's neck. He was breathing through his mouth now, his lips parted to reveal his canines.
"We should…" he started, pausing to get himself in check. "…better call someone then."
Mick's voice broke his captivation of feeling rising desire in his friend, unwavering and constant. Josef blinked, his eyes darkening to their normal colour and he nodded, patting Mick's shoulder. "We shall see about getting you fed," he said and approached his desk, reaching for the intercom, calling the girls in from another part of the large apartment. It was only a few moments before they appeared.
Mick forced his fangs back, with them banishing the slightest twinge of disappointment to the depths of his mind. Between Coraline reappearing and Beth forcing him into a role, this was for the best. And before he had time to think about it, he could hear the clicking of fashionable heels, and the uplifting chatter of young women. The air was filled with fragrances - their perfumes, the prosecco on their breaths, and a small hint of sweat. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was blood on one of them, a few hours old. He opened his eyes and looked at the girls, who were greeting Josef. It was easy to tell the one with the bite mark. She was paler, and slower in her movements, but also less apprehensive. They were gorgeous, each special and different in her own way, though they had one thing in common: an obvious dedication to Josef.
Josef greeted each of the five girls, accepting the customary peck on the cheek, complimenting the girls on their attire for the evening, each of them looking like a late Christmas present. He then looked at Mick who seemed to be almost mesmerized by the girls; a smile graced his lips at his friend's expression. He couldn't imagine what it would be like for Mick, living on the boring diet of bottled blood, seeing how Mick drank his blood now made Josef more appreciative of his freshies, but now it was time to give Mick a push to give in to his nature. And to hell with what Beth thought. Mick had to stop tearing himself in two. "Make your choice, my friend," Josef invited, motioning to the girls, whose attention now shifted towards Mick.
Mick smiled shyly, feeling all eyes on him. The girl with the bite was out of the equation for him - she wouldn't have much to give except company, and Josef might want her. He looked at the other girls. It felt a bit like a beauty-contest, the way they stood there waiting. He decided to go with his instincts and walked over to the blonde girl in the cocktail dress. He briefly looked at Josef, and finding permission in his eyes, held out his arm and invited the girl over to the couch.
Josef watched as Mick looked the girls over before making his choice, choosing the pretty petite blonde, Sandi. He could see the disappointment in the other girls, could smell it. They could still have a chance at being chosen; it just depended on how well the night went. Smiling to himself, he sank down into the over-stuffed armchair, his posture casual and relaxed. Once Mick took the plunge and finally bit, he would enjoy it. With the added freedom that this time he wouldn't be caught and smacked like a naughty puppy.
"So," Mick said as they sat down, "Uh - do you come here often?" He felt awkward, flashbacks of a previous life and high school dates seemed to melt with his vampire memories of the life he and Josef used to live. He half-remembered an old pick-up line about blood types, but it was really too corny and too 80-s for this evening.
"I've been around," the girl said, nonchalantly brushing her hair off her shoulder so it fell back and revealed her neckline. There was a faint bruise on her skin, and neatly healed over scars, visible only if you knew. Mick couldn't help himself - his eyes paled and his fangs drew out. He wanted her. He could hear her heart pounding in her chest, could smell her excitement. She leaned in, offering, and Mick accepted, shifting closer and resting his hand in the back of her neck, supporting her head. Sandi closed her eyes, and the touch of fang on flesh was only met with a short gasp. She let out her breath slowly, breathing into the pain of the wound and the tingling of the flowing blood.
It rushed into Mick's mouth, hot and sweet, and with it, thousands of visions and memories. Nameless faces at parties, flawless skin marked by pointed fangs, laughter, lust - this was the connection to life.
Josef leaned forward slightly in his chair, observing the two with a keen interest. Mick was unsure about how to do this, was clearly out of practice with how to deal with freshies, but that was alright. Sandi was well versed in this dance and Josef couldn't hide the proud smile that played on his lips as he watched the blonde skilfully lead Mick on, coaxing him in the right direction. His own eyes flared silver and his canines lengthened as he watched Mick sink his teeth in to Sandi's neck, could smell the metallic sweetness of blood in the air.
Mick's eyes flew open, finding Josef's. If ever looks said more than a thousand words, this one said only two: thank you. He was taking his time, slowly drawing the blood from the arteries, savouring it. It was humming into his ears. His heart beat in time with Sandi's and they became one, united in their one desire. He vaguely noticed her body pressing against his, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, keeping him close like a Siren drawing in a drowning man.
His canines seemed to burn with hunger when Mick opened his eyes, their gazes immediately locking. If he breathed, the look in Mick's eyes would have taken his breath away. Gratitude. Emitting a low growl from deep within, Josef stood from his seat and quickly joined the couple on the couch, reaching for Sandi's wrist and sinking his teeth in without hesitation, heightening what she felt, which in turn heightened what both Mick and he experienced as they drank. They couldn't take much more from her without risking her, but that was no problem. There were four more willing freshies in the room with them. He just wanted to enjoy this with Mick, glad that his friend now seemed to be coming to terms with his nature, realising what he was pointlessly denying himself by not using freshies.
Adrenaline shot through Sandi's blood with the second bite. Mick could feel the pull at Sandi's heart, could feel it growing weaker. She was leaning in more heavily now, slowly falling into a blissful state of semi-consciousness. He carefully retracted his fangs, cleaning the wound with his tongue, and continued to hold her as he watched Josef drink from her wrist. He was beginning to sober up, but the alcohol was nothing to what the fresh blood was doing to him. He was thirsty for more.
Josef retracted his fangs from Sandi's wrist a moment after Mick, pulling back before there was too much taken from Sandi. Licking the blood from her wrist, he pressed a tender kiss against the bite marks before straightening a little, reaching up and stroking his hand over her hair lightly. Just because freshies were his food, it didn't mean he didn't know how to treat them. It was because of this, treating his freshies so well, treasuring them, that Josef never found himself wanting for willing bodies. He knew he had to be doing something right to have more freshies than he could hope to bite in a week. He looked at Mick, his vampire visage, the tips of his canines exposed by his slightly parted lips, his face flushed with the fresh blood. He looked very content.
Mick looked back at him, a smile creeping onto his lips. It was like coming home. They were back in the clubs, in 1973, or on the canals of Venice, 1981 - when nothing existed but the two of them and the willing humans between them. He gently slid his arm from around Sandi and allowed her to sink into the couch, floating in and out of consciousness, but looking rosy and peaceful. He licked his lips and glanced around the room, his eyes coming to rest on a dark skinned girl who was standing by the window, her back turned to the room. He rose from the couch, and crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, revelling in the thrill of the vampire speed and the small tremor in the girl's posture as he trapped her between himself and the windowpane, sinking his teeth into the curve of her neck.
Stroking Sandi's hair flat after Mick lowered her down to the couch, he watched his friend as he crossed the distance between the couch and a freshie standing at the window. Claire. He stood, savouring the enjoyment Mick was getting from feeding naturally. It was so good to see this side of him once more, how relaxed and carefree he was about feeding from freshies. Leaving Mick to have Claire alone, Josef approached the waiting freshies, sensing their eagerness and excitement to be chosen next. He held himself back though. Tonight was about Mick, and him starting the New Year off with a bang.
There was only a small plane between pleasure and pain, and Mick was taking Claire there, dancing on the line. When she drew away, he pulled her closer into his embrace, coaxing her back into the connection between them until she melted against him, giving him more of herself.
"Please…" she whispered breathlessly. Mick couldn't tell if it was an invitation or a plea to stop - perhaps it was both. He let go, backing away to give her room to turn and face him. Her face was wet, but her dark eyes were glittering with desire. He leaned over and kissed her lips.
The smell of desire was heavy in the air and a low growl fell unbidden from his lips, his own blood lust rising and demanding attention. Mick was really getting into the spirit now, enjoying what he was doing, enjoying the connection he could only get from a freshie, never from a glass of blood. Looking away from the pair at the large window, Josef locked gazes with Megan, her scarlet hair falling about her shoulders, her neck inviting him, calling out to him. Approaching her, he threaded his fingers in her hair at the back of her skull and angled her head. Pressing a light kiss against the fluttering pulse in her neck, he sank his teeth into the artery, an influx of blood hitting his tongue, making his senses sing. His free arm wound around her waist, pulling her firmer against him as he felt her hands slide up into his hair.
Mick felt a hand slide up his back, and briefly froze, feeling caught. He turned, his eyes flashing with a pale fury, only to find one of the other girls standing before him. She was unfazed by his vampire eyes. Sharing a look with Claire, they both took him by the hand, pulling him towards the pool table. He allowed himself to be led. There, at the place where this turn of events seemed to have started, they pounced on him, one girl planting kisses down his neck, the other ghosting over his wrists in a sensual imitation of his first freshie. He leaned back against the table, closing his eyes and enjoying their caresses. The thirst had lessened, his body having taken what it needed, but the bloodlust still pulled at him, luring him into a dreamlike state of mind.
Withdrawing his fans from Megan's neck before he took too much that she was slipping in and out of consciousness like with Sandi, Josef licked the blood away from the two puncture wounds before withdrawing completely. Guiding her down into the nearest chair, a grin broke out across his face when he saw Mick, bracing himself against the pool table while he was being mauled by two of the freshies. He was completely relaxed and unguarded to their attentions, their caresses. Josef was glad that his friend was really letting himself go and enjoy the ride now. There was really nothing like being sandwiched between two willing and eager freshies.
Not only had Josef cared for visual variety, Mick was astonished to find that his freshies were all of different blood types. Of course it was only polite to sample them all. While he was drinking, a sound in the background distracted him. When it insisted, he realised it was his mobile phone. He let go of the girl's wrist and reached for his back pocket. He cleared his throat and answered the call.
"Hi Beth," he said quietly.
Josef pulled away from the freshies' wrist that he held captive, growling at the offensive sound, at the interruption. He rolled his eyes and sat back with a sigh when he heard the one name fall from Mick's lips that he didn't want to hear. Beth. So much for them enjoying themselves tonight. This phone call would effectively ruin the mood and Mick's newfound freedom. A phone call from Beth at this moment would have the sobering affect of a sledgehammer. Honestly, if they expected to get anywhere with this vampire-Human relationship, Beth had to get over her distrustfulness and come to terms with the fact Mick was a vampire, and vampire's bit humans. Jealousy shouldn't even enter the equation. If there was jealousy, it only pointed out the Human's insecurities, not a fault on the vampire.
Beth had debated with herself since Mick left for Josef's and their traditional night together to bring in the New Year. The row they had at Christmas when she asked - practically demanded - if there would be freshies present had led to a strained atmosphere between them the last couple of days, her tension increasing the closer they came to New Year's. After she had caught Mick biting Simone with the feeble excuse of checking if she was a certain blood-type, the feeling of catching them making out hadn't changed. She still wasn't comfortable with the idea of freshies, the idea of Mick biting some woman of Josef's.
She had promised herself that she wouldn't call and check up on him, giving the impression she didn't trust Mick. But after only 3 hours her journalistic nature took over and she reached for her phone without conscious thought to guide her hand, dialling Mick's number. She blinked, suddenly startled when he answered the phone. "Hi. Am I calling at a bad time?" she asked, straining to hear anything on the other end of the line. She couldn't hear anything.
Mick glanced at the women. They seem to know that look, undoubtedly having seen it on Josef, who was usually inseparable from his mobile phone. They retreated back to the couch, joining the others. Mick followed them with his eyes, and then realised Beth was demanding an answer.
"Uh, no, it's okay. Josef and I...were playing pool," he said, casting a look at Josef. The blood was beating a hard drum in his chest, so loud to his ears that he was almost afraid Beth would be able to hear it. "So...what are you doing?" he asked, trying to keep his breathing even.
Beth couldn't help the frown when Mick seemed to stumble for an answer. Maybe she was being overly suspicious - paranoid even - that she had her doubts that they were indeed playing pool. Mick's hesitation before saying what they were doing wasn't exactly reassuring. "Out with friends. We've got a good place to watch the fireworks when they start." Since Mick was going over to Josef's, Beth decided she wasn't going to stay at home on New Year's Eve, and so rustled some friends together. Well, actually they already had plans, so Beth just tagged along with them. But it amounted to the same thing. "Who is winning at pool?" she asked, still not totally convinced of the pool story.
"I was," Mick answered truthfully. "But the last few games..." he gave Josef another look, "were all Josef's." He turned away, once again torn between his friend's accusatory expression and his girlfriend's protectiveness. At that moment, Candi came to, rising with a soft moan and rubbing her eyes. "What-?" she started to ask, but one of the others shushed her.
"Josef would have been playing for a couple of centuries at least…" she began, trailing off when she heard a female voice on the other end of the line, close to Mick. She stopped with a frown. "Who was that?" she asked slowly. She suspected there would be freshies at this boy's night out, but from what Mick told her, he didn't make use of the freshies. Or so he said. What she had seen transpire between Mick and Simone told another story.
"One of Josef's...friends," Mick said, picking his words carefully. "Beth, I...." he started to say, but stopped himself. He wasn't sure if it was the fresh blood in his veins, Josef's words from earlier, or maybe even some residue of the alcohol, but he couldn't make himself apologise. After all, wasn't she the one who had kept their relationship a secret from her former boyfriend? If anyone had the right...
"Are you calling to check up on me?" he asked.
Yes. "No, I'm not," she replied calmly. If Mick wasn't going to tell the truth, then neither would she, especially when she already had serious suspicions that Josef's friend was actually a freshie. Mick had already told her there would be freshies attending his get together with Josef - it was Josef after all - but she hadn't expected a freshie to be in close proximity to Mick. "I was just calling to see if you were having a good time, but it seems like I have interrupted you, so I will let you return to your… pool game."
Women!! "Beth, come on," Mick pleaded. He already regretted his question. "Let's not start the new year this way." He shot a helpless look over to his friend, who gestured at Mick to give him the phone.
"Uh...hold on," Mick said to Beth, and handed over his phone to Josef. He was curious what would happen next, but at least his friend had more experience in talking to women than he did. Even after marriage, he still sometimes felt like he was dealing with aliens.
Watching Mick on the phone was like watching a train-wreck happen in slow motion. Standing from his seat, he approached his friend and gestured that Mick had him the phone. He would either pacify Beth, or probably ruin all of their evenings by explaining things to her in no uncertain terms. Mick didn't want to hurt her feelings by being harsh, but he didn't care about himself, or what it was doing to him being torn in two, feeling as though biting WILLING freshies was appalling and disgusting. The initial reason he had stopped biting the freshies was Coraline, and that was ancient history. Josef had seen more of the old Mick tonight than he had in the last decade and he wasn't about to stand back and watch as he withdrew into his shell all because his blonde playmate had issues. "Beth!" Josef said congenially, "are you having a good time?" There was no reason to be a brute about the whole thing. Josef could be civil. It only remained to be seen if jealous Beth could be civil as well.
"Josef?" Beth asked incredulously. For a moment, she was lost for words. Mick had given his phone to someone else while they were talking? "I guess so," she said finally, answering his question. "Are you?" A part of her wanted to hang up, but this was her only connection to Mick - and even though it was unlikely she'd get a straight answer from Josef, she needed to try. She just hoped they weren't having too good of a time without her.
Mick was standing nearby, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and biting his lip.
We were before you rang, the thought turned through his brain but Josef stopped it from making its way to his tongue. "Yes, we're having a wonderful time. Pool, cigars and a bottle of 150 year old cognac. But this isn't what you want to hear. You want to know if your Mick is being a good boy, yes?" he asked but continued on before Beth could answer when he heard her intact of breath. "Tell me, Miss Turner. What does being a good boy entail?"
As always, Josef had that special way of being utterly patronising and roguishly charming at the same time. It annoyed Beth to no end. It was like she could hear his smile through the line. She knew many women who would melt over it -may have been one of them herself years ago- but ultimately, that kind of man, immortal or not - was trouble. She had often wondered how he had been around Sarah, wondered if the cynical, distant Josef was a role he had slipped into with his new name.
"About everything you wouldn't do, I suppose," she replied. Beth knew that Josef was trying to goad her.
"So your definition of a good boy happens to be the same as boring." Josef couldn't help it if he enjoyed himself with everything he did. What was the point in living forever if you were going to be so damn depressing about it? Everything was amusing and fun to him, except when it was about money and then he was all business and serious… and of course he was serious when he sent people to the tar-pits. "And what about our Mick? Do you not trust him to be his usual Boy Scout self when he's in my corrupting presence?"
Mick's head snapped up, his mouth falling open with disbelief. "Boy Scout?!" he mimicked, gesturing angrily at his friend, giving him as threatening a look as he could muster.
"Yes, I trust him," Beth said defensively, "I just don't trust you, Josef. I know you have a history together and I know there's been times when Mick-" she broke off, unsure how to continue. She didn't know exactly what happened in Mick's past. All he ever wanted to tell her were stories that featured Josef, or Coraline, leaving his own part suspiciously out of the picture. When Josh had just died, Mick had said he had 'a lot to make up for'. She hardly heard it at the time, didn't care - but now that they were together, he refused to talk about it.
"I just worry about him, about us," she finished.
Josef ignored Mick's best attempt to look angry and ready to kill him, waved his friend off dismissively. If Mick didn't want to deal with the Beth situation, then Josef would and he wouldn't dance around the subject. He would dive straight in - although he would at least try and be a little tactful for Mick's sake - even if his friend didn't appreciate his methods. "You may trust Mick, but you don't trust what Mick is. Not really. At heart, Mick is really no different to me, and you said so yourself that you don't trust me, therefore what you distrust in me, you distrust in him. Why is that?"
Mick's nothing like you - Beth thought. He's not selfish, spoiled, callous or a... Her breath caught in her throat. Monster. She swallowed, and felt her anger rising. She was tired of being treated like the odd one out, the silly girl who didn't understand!
"Don't play word-games with me, Josef. You know what I mean. It might not mean anything to you to feed on freshies, but-"
"No, I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. Your aversion to freshies is most perplexing. You cannot have standards for the rest of us, say we're cruel and calculating monsters who feed off freshies while your Mick is exempt from being called a monster, despite him being no different to me," Josef said calmly, continuing on before Beth could continue. "Quite frankly Beth, whatever ideal notions you have about Mick are misplaced and they will only lead to trouble. Mick is a vampire, vampires bite, it's simple." If there was any expectation for this thing between Mick and Beth to work out, then some home truths needed to be hammered home. It didn't really matter if he was even less popular with the young Miss Turner, he already knew he wasn't one of her favourite people.
"Josef, give me back my phone," Mick demanded. He could only imagine what Beth must be feeling - it was exactly this kind of confrontation that made him hold off their relationship for so long. Humans didn't understand, couldn't understand.
Again, Beth was torn between wanting hang up the phone, and giving Josef a piece of her mind. How dare he decide what was best for Mick? He could live on blood from the blood bank, he had told her so himself. And if he would have to feed on fresh blood, like that time in the desert...
"...but it doesn't have to be your prostitutes," she said through clenched teeth.
Stiffening, not bothering to retort to Beth's immature and grossly incorrect misconception, Josef held the phone back to Mick, a tight, cold smile on his lips. It would appear that they had uncovered the reason for Miss Turner's aversion to freshies. "By all means, you talk to her now. Perhaps you would care to inform your friend, freshies and prostitutes do not amount to the same thing, and I take a great deal of offense when boorish misconceptions like that are formed," he said tightly, his voice loud enough that Beth would be able to hear it even though the phone was now changing hands. So much for the jollity of the evening.
Mick accepted the phone with a heavy heart. "Beth, can we talk about this tomorrow?" he asked quietly.
"Did you, or did you not drink from them, Mick?" Beth asked him relentlessly.
Mick closed his eyes for a moment, going over his options. "I did," he said finally.
"Then I'm not sure we'll have something to talk about tomorrow," Beth replied, audibly shaken, and hung up the phone.
For a moment, Mick just stared at the phone in his hand. Then he looked back at Josef. "I'm sure she didn't mean it that way," he offered. The valley below them suddenly lit up with fireworks, the explosions muted by the security glass in the large window front.
"Happy New Year."
It was New Year already? Well, wasn't the New Year off to such an awful start? Somewhere, somehow, he found a smile for his friend. "Happy New Year," he said before retrieving the cognac and refilling their glasses to bring in the New Year with a drink. And after that phone call, Josef needed a drink now. He dismissed the freshies with a look.
Josef didn't bother responding to his friend's attempt to excuse what Beth had said. No, she had meant it and now everything was becoming clear, Beth's aversion and near repulsion of the thought of Mick feeding off a freshie. Feeding off the freshies and having sex with them were two entirely different things, and while there were instances that both went hand in hand, it wasn't how the entire subject of freshies should be viewed. If Beth had so little trust of Mick and him fooling around on her, she obviously didn't know Mick as well as she thought she did. Mick was a one girl kind of guy.
"Now, where were we with our game of 8-ball?" he asked, his tone suddenly light and cheerful as he pushed the unpleasantness away.
Mick gladly accepted the glass Josef offered him, and they toasted to the new year. His friend's cheerfulness, be it forced, made him smile.
"You were winning, but my luck was about to turn," he said.
He thought about their game, which had brought the events of the night. Though, if he was completely honest to himself- and those moments often came unbidden after sobering up- it might have happened anyway. Mick had already been thinking about drinking fresh blood before Josef dared him to. It was too easy to lay the blame at his friend. He would have to tell Beth about this, too. If he made it out to be a spur-of-the-moment error induced by alcohol and edged on by Josef, she would hate Josef for it, and they would always have this discussion and he would eternally be in between. Eternally. Beth didn't have forever. Shaking that line of thought, Mick looked up at Josef.
"Despite...the call, I don't regret what happened," he said. He wanted Josef to know that he held himself responsible. "I will talk to her, and make her understand."
"Then we should continue our game for your luck to fully turn," Josef said calmly, taking another sip of his cognac before he racked the balls, focusing more on the simple task than was duly needed. He wouldn't be surprised if Mick was able to win given his state of distraction. At least maybe the first game or so before Josef relaxed and found his calm centre once more. Josef paused in lifting the rack of the table when Mick spoke again. He nodded slowly at his friend's words, finding him a smile that this time wasn't forced. "That is good, because you shouldn't regret what you did. Sure, I may have tricked you into it, but it was for your own good. A gentle reminder of what is your nature to do, to help you make peace with what you are," he said and sighed heavily, lifting the rack away from the neat formation of balls before he picked up his cue. "This is a second chance for you to make peace with your vampire self when you had a less than ideal teacher in Coraline."
He watched Josef break the game wordlessly. It was a second chance indeed, a second time he was turned, not by force but by choice, by his friend and mentor Josef. Maybe Beth and he could find some middle ground, with room for his conscience and her jealousy. Perhaps, if she would let him...drink from her? Mick discarded that idea again quickly. After this fight, he would be happy if she wanted to talk to him at all.
Josef's turn dealt him solids, and he observed the table. It was a relaxed game of trash - both had spoken enough for a while. But the evening's mood had plummeted, and Mick found it hard to concentrate. They called it a night after two games and parted, each leaving the other to their thoughts. There would be more New Years to come, and no matter what was to come, they would remain constant.
--End--
Characters : Mick, Josef, Beth, OC
Rating : PG-13
Spoilers : Ep 1-16 of Moonlight, season 1
Summary : Mick and Josef’s spending New Year’s Eve together is a longstanding tradition. It’s the time for looking back at what was and looking ahead at what will be. This year, however, they decide to play a game of pool with high stakes...
Comment : a collaboration fic - Mick & Beth by swas, Josef by prkblackwolf
Disclaimer : The characters are not ours, no money is being made and no infringement is intended.
Read Part I first
Smirking at the wicked smile on Mick's that made his eyes glitter with a mischievous light, Josef approached the table and played expertly, calling and pocketing his balls one after the other with astonishing accuracy. When it came down to needing to pocket the 8-ball to win the game, Josef purposefully overshot the mark and didn't pocket the ball. He straightened with an exaggerated sigh. "Oh dear, I mustn't be on my game tonight," he said sadly. He would fully intend on winning the next game in record time, but for the moment, Josef wanted to see what Mick had in mind. This was plenty of time later for Josef to win. The night was still very young after all.
Mick could not suppress a small whoop. "Watch and learn," he said obnoxiously, hit the 8-ball with an exaggeratedly casual stroke and finished the game. He gave Josef a pointed look and smirked. "I hope you are ready for your dare," he taunted, the alcohol warming his cold blood.
He laid the cue down on the pool table and crossed his arms over his chest. "I want you…to go down to your neighbours, and -politely!- ask them for a cup of sugar, and bring it back here."
He could barely contain himself. He was pretty sure no one had ever come to call for a cup of sugar in this street! There were only villas and designer apartments here. If any of them ever needed anything, they'd have personnel to send out and get it. He doubted if Josef knew his neighbours at all. They were humans, after all, and Josef hardly was the one to socialise with his food.
Josef just stared at Mick in disbelief. This was his wicked idea? A cup of sugar. How much cognac had Mick drank anyway?! "This is your big dare? What are we supposed to do with a cup of sugar?" he asked calmly. Sure, if he went down the street to one of his neighbours and made a fool of himself by asking for a cup of sugar... and then it clicked. "You diabolical bastard. You're sending me out to slum with the little people."
Mick just smirked. This was too good. "It's just sugar, Josef," he said innocently. "I'm sure they'll have some for you if you ask nicely." He was enjoying his moment of triumph immensely.
"I always ask nicely. Are you saying I'm not a nice person, Mick?" Josef asked, angling his head to the side, looking Mick over calmly.
"I'm just saying - finishing them off afterwards is not allowed. Just get the sugar."
He grinned. "Who knows, you might make some new friends."
"I can't even have a bite to eat? You're inhuman," Josef said with a roll of his eyes, knowing that if Mick didn't say he couldn't, there wouldn't be anything stopping Josef from enjoying himself and having a little snack when he got the useless sugar. He would do this, and then he would enjoy his part of the dare even more. "One bowl of sugar coming up."
"Sure, if you want to reveal yourself to them, and have them tell the press. I'm sure they know a few directors interested in making a film out if it - everyone in Hollywood knows each other, after all."
He knew Josef wouldn't risk having his identity uncovered, so unless his neighbours were all too drunk to remember afterwards, biting them wasn't an option.
"There are always ways, Mick," Josef intoned calmly, making a brief stop to the kitchen to get a bowl. If he was going to knock on someone's door and make a fool of himself, he would have to do it properly. If he didn't cheat, then Mick wouldn't have an excuse for slipping out of his dare. "You can make yourself useful while I'm gone and rack the balls," he said on his way out of the apartment.
Mick shook his head in mirth. How he wished he could tag along and watch! But it would ruin the effect, as the point was that Josef would have to go there without backup. He gathered the balls from the pockets of the pool table and placed the triangle on the table, lining up the balls neatly inside the form. Then he took his glass and ambled over to the sideboard, helping himself to another drink while he waited.
After approaching the nearest neighbour - Josef wasn't going to be walking all night in these $900 Italian leather shoes - he knocked on the door, and when someone finally answered - more than a little intoxicated - Josef requested a bowl of sugar, a charming smile on his face. Waiting a few minutes for his friendly, intoxicated neighbour to return with the bowl of sugar, he listened to the merriment taking place in the apartment. When his neighbour retuned and gave him back the bowl, Josef looked down into it with a small frown. If this forfeited his part of the dare, he wasn't going to be impressed. He returned to his apartment to see Mick leaning against the pool table, a fresh drink in hand. "They gave me milk," he announced calmly. "I asked for sugar and they gave me milk."
Mick snorted and covered his mouth with his hand, almost spilling his drink over himself. The alcohol burned in his nostrils and against the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, and coughed.
"I guess that counts," he said after catching his breath. "Perhaps you-" he coughed again and cleared his throat, "looked more like a kitten than like someone who bakes on New Year's Eve."
Josef's eyes flashed silver as he narrowed them at Mick. "If I were you, I would quickly retract that kitten remark," he said coolly, depositing the bowl of milk in the fridge, having even less of an idea of what to do with it than the sugar. "My wonderful neighbour was so drunk, he wouldn't have even noticed if I didn't have my human visage on."
Mick drained a chuckle in his glass before forcing himself into a serious expression.
"I'm sorry, Josef," he said ruefully, dropping his head and looking up at his friend through his lashes, "but…you did lose. At 8-ball. To me."
Josef smiled at him coolly, picking up his cue and chalking it. He didn't rise to the bait. It just went to prove how well he had hidden his purposeful loss. "Do you want to see if you can do it again?" he asked calmly, wondering if Mick would still be able to hold his cue steadily. He had been enjoying the cognac.
"Sure," Mick said, taking up his cue and a piece of chalk. Coordination was getting a little tricky, and it took him two tries to unite cue stick and chalk. He took a deep breath. Perhaps the new glass of cognac had been a mistake. He'd need blood soon, to balance it out, clear his head. He straightened his back, took a deep breath and focused on his break. It was a sloppy hit, and spun the cue ball erratically over the table. It was only chance that made him pocket a single striped ball. He tried to hit another one, but only ended up spreading the balls in all directions.
"I uh- figured I should give you a fighting chance."
Josef watched him as he battled to chalk his cue, needing several attempts before the chalk actually reached the cue and not just thin air. His eyebrow arched at the sloppy break which still proved to be quite successful when Mick pocketed a ball. But sadly, that was where his luck ran out. Josef bowed his head graciously. "I will make use of it," he said calmly, smiling to himself before he began pocketing his balls, one after the other in quick succession.
Mick blinked at the speed the balls were hitting the corner pockets. He'd seen it happen often when Josef played against rookies in the club, after he had gotten bored toying with them and went in for a quick, clean kill to empty their pockets. Realisation was beginning to dawn on him, that Josef- already one glass behind on the cognac- might have been holding back. With that came the uneasy feeling that with the coming dare, he might get more than he bargained for.
When he was finally prepared to sink the 8 ball, glancing up at Mick, who now seemed to be rather white, Josef elegantly knocked the 8 ball into the corner pocket. He straightened with a calm smile, propping against his cue casually. "I win," he announced in a purr, his smile broadening when Mick seemed to pale further. "Oh don't be so scared Mick, nothing terrible is going to happen."
With Josef, you never know, Mick thought. "Good game," he overplayed his anxiety and nodded at the table, where all but one striped ball were still were he had left them. "I guess my luck had to run out at some point." He refused to admit that he had, most likely, been conned.
Josef nodded and placed his cue down on the pool table. "Indeed it did, especially after one too many cognacs on an empty stomach," he said as he slowly approached his friend. He was going to enjoy this, probably more than Mick was going to, but it would at least put his friend in touch with his true nature. He could do what he wanted without fear of recrimination. So really, this wasn't going to be so much of a dare as it was going to be a gift.
Mick swallowed as Josef came towards him with a predatory look on his face. A dozen possible scenarios raced through his mind, from the unlikely to the downright cruel. He resisted the urge to take a step back and stood his ground, raising his chin.
"And the dare?" he asked.
Josef chuckled softly, detecting the unease in Mick, his body tensing, most likely to stop himself from taking an involuntary step backwards. "The dare is an easy one. You'll bite a freshie. You need the blood, so it will be a two birds with one stone arrangement," Actually, it was a three birds one stone situation: it was Josef's dare, Mick needed the blood to find his balance after the alcohol, and Mick could do what it was in his nature to do, without fear of being found out and facing the music from his Beth.
Mick's jaw dropped. "That's..." Unfair? There was no fairness in their game. That's how dares worked. He frowned, his eyes avoiding Josef, going over possible escape routes. There weren't any - and he did need the blood. Trying to fight a rising panic, he told himself that Beth would never know. He'd done this a thousand times, before he knew her, before she was even born. He could do this. A part of him longed to do it. He could feel his fangs drawing out. "Okay," he said quietly, clenching his jaw.
And this was exactly the problem Josef was trying to correct. Mick had it stuck in his head that he was doing something wrong, and Beth's reaction was only furthering that mentality. Mick was doing what came naturally to him, he bit, he drank but he didn't kill. How many people had Mick bitten before he had a raging attack of conscience? Hundreds? Thousands? And now there was the Beth situation, complicating everything. Josef came to stand in front of his friend, their faces inches apart as he held Mick's gaze. "You shouldn't keep fighting with yourself about this. You're not doing anything wrong Mick, I don't understand why you believe you are. You're a vampire, you drink blood."
"I know," he said sadly.
Mick swallowed and met his friend's gaze. The last time they had been this close, Josef had turned him, on his request. Mick had chosen to be like this, to accept the full deal, knowing what it meant. He had not fought the pain of Josef's bite nor refused the blood that fell from his wrist. The memory stirred the bloodlust within him despite himself, and his eyes paled.
Josef could smell Mick's desire flare just as his eyes paled, the silvers orbs of his other self rising to the fore. He smiled sadly, hating to see his friend so torn, wanting to keep Beth happy but also trying to live with himself. He needed blood, that was the bottom line but he had reduced himself to getting his blood from the blood bank, denying himself the pleasure of biting a freshie, feeling that connection. Josef's own eyes turned silver. "You shouldn't keep denying yourself the connection. You have denied your own needs for so long, why don't you start the New Year off differently?"
Mick breathed in deeply and smelled the alcohol on Josef's breath. A trace of cigar-smoke. And that unmistakable essence of his blood pumping through his body. He remembered its taste, could pick it out from any other. It's what made him good at his job. He saw the veins on Josef's neck. He was breathing through his mouth now, his lips parted to reveal his canines.
"We should…" he started, pausing to get himself in check. "…better call someone then."
Mick's voice broke his captivation of feeling rising desire in his friend, unwavering and constant. Josef blinked, his eyes darkening to their normal colour and he nodded, patting Mick's shoulder. "We shall see about getting you fed," he said and approached his desk, reaching for the intercom, calling the girls in from another part of the large apartment. It was only a few moments before they appeared.
Mick forced his fangs back, with them banishing the slightest twinge of disappointment to the depths of his mind. Between Coraline reappearing and Beth forcing him into a role, this was for the best. And before he had time to think about it, he could hear the clicking of fashionable heels, and the uplifting chatter of young women. The air was filled with fragrances - their perfumes, the prosecco on their breaths, and a small hint of sweat. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was blood on one of them, a few hours old. He opened his eyes and looked at the girls, who were greeting Josef. It was easy to tell the one with the bite mark. She was paler, and slower in her movements, but also less apprehensive. They were gorgeous, each special and different in her own way, though they had one thing in common: an obvious dedication to Josef.
Josef greeted each of the five girls, accepting the customary peck on the cheek, complimenting the girls on their attire for the evening, each of them looking like a late Christmas present. He then looked at Mick who seemed to be almost mesmerized by the girls; a smile graced his lips at his friend's expression. He couldn't imagine what it would be like for Mick, living on the boring diet of bottled blood, seeing how Mick drank his blood now made Josef more appreciative of his freshies, but now it was time to give Mick a push to give in to his nature. And to hell with what Beth thought. Mick had to stop tearing himself in two. "Make your choice, my friend," Josef invited, motioning to the girls, whose attention now shifted towards Mick.
Mick smiled shyly, feeling all eyes on him. The girl with the bite was out of the equation for him - she wouldn't have much to give except company, and Josef might want her. He looked at the other girls. It felt a bit like a beauty-contest, the way they stood there waiting. He decided to go with his instincts and walked over to the blonde girl in the cocktail dress. He briefly looked at Josef, and finding permission in his eyes, held out his arm and invited the girl over to the couch.
Josef watched as Mick looked the girls over before making his choice, choosing the pretty petite blonde, Sandi. He could see the disappointment in the other girls, could smell it. They could still have a chance at being chosen; it just depended on how well the night went. Smiling to himself, he sank down into the over-stuffed armchair, his posture casual and relaxed. Once Mick took the plunge and finally bit, he would enjoy it. With the added freedom that this time he wouldn't be caught and smacked like a naughty puppy.
"So," Mick said as they sat down, "Uh - do you come here often?" He felt awkward, flashbacks of a previous life and high school dates seemed to melt with his vampire memories of the life he and Josef used to live. He half-remembered an old pick-up line about blood types, but it was really too corny and too 80-s for this evening.
"I've been around," the girl said, nonchalantly brushing her hair off her shoulder so it fell back and revealed her neckline. There was a faint bruise on her skin, and neatly healed over scars, visible only if you knew. Mick couldn't help himself - his eyes paled and his fangs drew out. He wanted her. He could hear her heart pounding in her chest, could smell her excitement. She leaned in, offering, and Mick accepted, shifting closer and resting his hand in the back of her neck, supporting her head. Sandi closed her eyes, and the touch of fang on flesh was only met with a short gasp. She let out her breath slowly, breathing into the pain of the wound and the tingling of the flowing blood.
It rushed into Mick's mouth, hot and sweet, and with it, thousands of visions and memories. Nameless faces at parties, flawless skin marked by pointed fangs, laughter, lust - this was the connection to life.
Josef leaned forward slightly in his chair, observing the two with a keen interest. Mick was unsure about how to do this, was clearly out of practice with how to deal with freshies, but that was alright. Sandi was well versed in this dance and Josef couldn't hide the proud smile that played on his lips as he watched the blonde skilfully lead Mick on, coaxing him in the right direction. His own eyes flared silver and his canines lengthened as he watched Mick sink his teeth in to Sandi's neck, could smell the metallic sweetness of blood in the air.
Mick's eyes flew open, finding Josef's. If ever looks said more than a thousand words, this one said only two: thank you. He was taking his time, slowly drawing the blood from the arteries, savouring it. It was humming into his ears. His heart beat in time with Sandi's and they became one, united in their one desire. He vaguely noticed her body pressing against his, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, keeping him close like a Siren drawing in a drowning man.
His canines seemed to burn with hunger when Mick opened his eyes, their gazes immediately locking. If he breathed, the look in Mick's eyes would have taken his breath away. Gratitude. Emitting a low growl from deep within, Josef stood from his seat and quickly joined the couple on the couch, reaching for Sandi's wrist and sinking his teeth in without hesitation, heightening what she felt, which in turn heightened what both Mick and he experienced as they drank. They couldn't take much more from her without risking her, but that was no problem. There were four more willing freshies in the room with them. He just wanted to enjoy this with Mick, glad that his friend now seemed to be coming to terms with his nature, realising what he was pointlessly denying himself by not using freshies.
Adrenaline shot through Sandi's blood with the second bite. Mick could feel the pull at Sandi's heart, could feel it growing weaker. She was leaning in more heavily now, slowly falling into a blissful state of semi-consciousness. He carefully retracted his fangs, cleaning the wound with his tongue, and continued to hold her as he watched Josef drink from her wrist. He was beginning to sober up, but the alcohol was nothing to what the fresh blood was doing to him. He was thirsty for more.
Josef retracted his fangs from Sandi's wrist a moment after Mick, pulling back before there was too much taken from Sandi. Licking the blood from her wrist, he pressed a tender kiss against the bite marks before straightening a little, reaching up and stroking his hand over her hair lightly. Just because freshies were his food, it didn't mean he didn't know how to treat them. It was because of this, treating his freshies so well, treasuring them, that Josef never found himself wanting for willing bodies. He knew he had to be doing something right to have more freshies than he could hope to bite in a week. He looked at Mick, his vampire visage, the tips of his canines exposed by his slightly parted lips, his face flushed with the fresh blood. He looked very content.
Mick looked back at him, a smile creeping onto his lips. It was like coming home. They were back in the clubs, in 1973, or on the canals of Venice, 1981 - when nothing existed but the two of them and the willing humans between them. He gently slid his arm from around Sandi and allowed her to sink into the couch, floating in and out of consciousness, but looking rosy and peaceful. He licked his lips and glanced around the room, his eyes coming to rest on a dark skinned girl who was standing by the window, her back turned to the room. He rose from the couch, and crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, revelling in the thrill of the vampire speed and the small tremor in the girl's posture as he trapped her between himself and the windowpane, sinking his teeth into the curve of her neck.
Stroking Sandi's hair flat after Mick lowered her down to the couch, he watched his friend as he crossed the distance between the couch and a freshie standing at the window. Claire. He stood, savouring the enjoyment Mick was getting from feeding naturally. It was so good to see this side of him once more, how relaxed and carefree he was about feeding from freshies. Leaving Mick to have Claire alone, Josef approached the waiting freshies, sensing their eagerness and excitement to be chosen next. He held himself back though. Tonight was about Mick, and him starting the New Year off with a bang.
There was only a small plane between pleasure and pain, and Mick was taking Claire there, dancing on the line. When she drew away, he pulled her closer into his embrace, coaxing her back into the connection between them until she melted against him, giving him more of herself.
"Please…" she whispered breathlessly. Mick couldn't tell if it was an invitation or a plea to stop - perhaps it was both. He let go, backing away to give her room to turn and face him. Her face was wet, but her dark eyes were glittering with desire. He leaned over and kissed her lips.
The smell of desire was heavy in the air and a low growl fell unbidden from his lips, his own blood lust rising and demanding attention. Mick was really getting into the spirit now, enjoying what he was doing, enjoying the connection he could only get from a freshie, never from a glass of blood. Looking away from the pair at the large window, Josef locked gazes with Megan, her scarlet hair falling about her shoulders, her neck inviting him, calling out to him. Approaching her, he threaded his fingers in her hair at the back of her skull and angled her head. Pressing a light kiss against the fluttering pulse in her neck, he sank his teeth into the artery, an influx of blood hitting his tongue, making his senses sing. His free arm wound around her waist, pulling her firmer against him as he felt her hands slide up into his hair.
Mick felt a hand slide up his back, and briefly froze, feeling caught. He turned, his eyes flashing with a pale fury, only to find one of the other girls standing before him. She was unfazed by his vampire eyes. Sharing a look with Claire, they both took him by the hand, pulling him towards the pool table. He allowed himself to be led. There, at the place where this turn of events seemed to have started, they pounced on him, one girl planting kisses down his neck, the other ghosting over his wrists in a sensual imitation of his first freshie. He leaned back against the table, closing his eyes and enjoying their caresses. The thirst had lessened, his body having taken what it needed, but the bloodlust still pulled at him, luring him into a dreamlike state of mind.
Withdrawing his fans from Megan's neck before he took too much that she was slipping in and out of consciousness like with Sandi, Josef licked the blood away from the two puncture wounds before withdrawing completely. Guiding her down into the nearest chair, a grin broke out across his face when he saw Mick, bracing himself against the pool table while he was being mauled by two of the freshies. He was completely relaxed and unguarded to their attentions, their caresses. Josef was glad that his friend was really letting himself go and enjoy the ride now. There was really nothing like being sandwiched between two willing and eager freshies.
Not only had Josef cared for visual variety, Mick was astonished to find that his freshies were all of different blood types. Of course it was only polite to sample them all. While he was drinking, a sound in the background distracted him. When it insisted, he realised it was his mobile phone. He let go of the girl's wrist and reached for his back pocket. He cleared his throat and answered the call.
"Hi Beth," he said quietly.
Josef pulled away from the freshies' wrist that he held captive, growling at the offensive sound, at the interruption. He rolled his eyes and sat back with a sigh when he heard the one name fall from Mick's lips that he didn't want to hear. Beth. So much for them enjoying themselves tonight. This phone call would effectively ruin the mood and Mick's newfound freedom. A phone call from Beth at this moment would have the sobering affect of a sledgehammer. Honestly, if they expected to get anywhere with this vampire-Human relationship, Beth had to get over her distrustfulness and come to terms with the fact Mick was a vampire, and vampire's bit humans. Jealousy shouldn't even enter the equation. If there was jealousy, it only pointed out the Human's insecurities, not a fault on the vampire.
Beth had debated with herself since Mick left for Josef's and their traditional night together to bring in the New Year. The row they had at Christmas when she asked - practically demanded - if there would be freshies present had led to a strained atmosphere between them the last couple of days, her tension increasing the closer they came to New Year's. After she had caught Mick biting Simone with the feeble excuse of checking if she was a certain blood-type, the feeling of catching them making out hadn't changed. She still wasn't comfortable with the idea of freshies, the idea of Mick biting some woman of Josef's.
She had promised herself that she wouldn't call and check up on him, giving the impression she didn't trust Mick. But after only 3 hours her journalistic nature took over and she reached for her phone without conscious thought to guide her hand, dialling Mick's number. She blinked, suddenly startled when he answered the phone. "Hi. Am I calling at a bad time?" she asked, straining to hear anything on the other end of the line. She couldn't hear anything.
Mick glanced at the women. They seem to know that look, undoubtedly having seen it on Josef, who was usually inseparable from his mobile phone. They retreated back to the couch, joining the others. Mick followed them with his eyes, and then realised Beth was demanding an answer.
"Uh, no, it's okay. Josef and I...were playing pool," he said, casting a look at Josef. The blood was beating a hard drum in his chest, so loud to his ears that he was almost afraid Beth would be able to hear it. "So...what are you doing?" he asked, trying to keep his breathing even.
Beth couldn't help the frown when Mick seemed to stumble for an answer. Maybe she was being overly suspicious - paranoid even - that she had her doubts that they were indeed playing pool. Mick's hesitation before saying what they were doing wasn't exactly reassuring. "Out with friends. We've got a good place to watch the fireworks when they start." Since Mick was going over to Josef's, Beth decided she wasn't going to stay at home on New Year's Eve, and so rustled some friends together. Well, actually they already had plans, so Beth just tagged along with them. But it amounted to the same thing. "Who is winning at pool?" she asked, still not totally convinced of the pool story.
"I was," Mick answered truthfully. "But the last few games..." he gave Josef another look, "were all Josef's." He turned away, once again torn between his friend's accusatory expression and his girlfriend's protectiveness. At that moment, Candi came to, rising with a soft moan and rubbing her eyes. "What-?" she started to ask, but one of the others shushed her.
"Josef would have been playing for a couple of centuries at least…" she began, trailing off when she heard a female voice on the other end of the line, close to Mick. She stopped with a frown. "Who was that?" she asked slowly. She suspected there would be freshies at this boy's night out, but from what Mick told her, he didn't make use of the freshies. Or so he said. What she had seen transpire between Mick and Simone told another story.
"One of Josef's...friends," Mick said, picking his words carefully. "Beth, I...." he started to say, but stopped himself. He wasn't sure if it was the fresh blood in his veins, Josef's words from earlier, or maybe even some residue of the alcohol, but he couldn't make himself apologise. After all, wasn't she the one who had kept their relationship a secret from her former boyfriend? If anyone had the right...
"Are you calling to check up on me?" he asked.
Yes. "No, I'm not," she replied calmly. If Mick wasn't going to tell the truth, then neither would she, especially when she already had serious suspicions that Josef's friend was actually a freshie. Mick had already told her there would be freshies attending his get together with Josef - it was Josef after all - but she hadn't expected a freshie to be in close proximity to Mick. "I was just calling to see if you were having a good time, but it seems like I have interrupted you, so I will let you return to your… pool game."
Women!! "Beth, come on," Mick pleaded. He already regretted his question. "Let's not start the new year this way." He shot a helpless look over to his friend, who gestured at Mick to give him the phone.
"Uh...hold on," Mick said to Beth, and handed over his phone to Josef. He was curious what would happen next, but at least his friend had more experience in talking to women than he did. Even after marriage, he still sometimes felt like he was dealing with aliens.
Watching Mick on the phone was like watching a train-wreck happen in slow motion. Standing from his seat, he approached his friend and gestured that Mick had him the phone. He would either pacify Beth, or probably ruin all of their evenings by explaining things to her in no uncertain terms. Mick didn't want to hurt her feelings by being harsh, but he didn't care about himself, or what it was doing to him being torn in two, feeling as though biting WILLING freshies was appalling and disgusting. The initial reason he had stopped biting the freshies was Coraline, and that was ancient history. Josef had seen more of the old Mick tonight than he had in the last decade and he wasn't about to stand back and watch as he withdrew into his shell all because his blonde playmate had issues. "Beth!" Josef said congenially, "are you having a good time?" There was no reason to be a brute about the whole thing. Josef could be civil. It only remained to be seen if jealous Beth could be civil as well.
"Josef?" Beth asked incredulously. For a moment, she was lost for words. Mick had given his phone to someone else while they were talking? "I guess so," she said finally, answering his question. "Are you?" A part of her wanted to hang up, but this was her only connection to Mick - and even though it was unlikely she'd get a straight answer from Josef, she needed to try. She just hoped they weren't having too good of a time without her.
Mick was standing nearby, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and biting his lip.
We were before you rang, the thought turned through his brain but Josef stopped it from making its way to his tongue. "Yes, we're having a wonderful time. Pool, cigars and a bottle of 150 year old cognac. But this isn't what you want to hear. You want to know if your Mick is being a good boy, yes?" he asked but continued on before Beth could answer when he heard her intact of breath. "Tell me, Miss Turner. What does being a good boy entail?"
As always, Josef had that special way of being utterly patronising and roguishly charming at the same time. It annoyed Beth to no end. It was like she could hear his smile through the line. She knew many women who would melt over it -may have been one of them herself years ago- but ultimately, that kind of man, immortal or not - was trouble. She had often wondered how he had been around Sarah, wondered if the cynical, distant Josef was a role he had slipped into with his new name.
"About everything you wouldn't do, I suppose," she replied. Beth knew that Josef was trying to goad her.
"So your definition of a good boy happens to be the same as boring." Josef couldn't help it if he enjoyed himself with everything he did. What was the point in living forever if you were going to be so damn depressing about it? Everything was amusing and fun to him, except when it was about money and then he was all business and serious… and of course he was serious when he sent people to the tar-pits. "And what about our Mick? Do you not trust him to be his usual Boy Scout self when he's in my corrupting presence?"
Mick's head snapped up, his mouth falling open with disbelief. "Boy Scout?!" he mimicked, gesturing angrily at his friend, giving him as threatening a look as he could muster.
"Yes, I trust him," Beth said defensively, "I just don't trust you, Josef. I know you have a history together and I know there's been times when Mick-" she broke off, unsure how to continue. She didn't know exactly what happened in Mick's past. All he ever wanted to tell her were stories that featured Josef, or Coraline, leaving his own part suspiciously out of the picture. When Josh had just died, Mick had said he had 'a lot to make up for'. She hardly heard it at the time, didn't care - but now that they were together, he refused to talk about it.
"I just worry about him, about us," she finished.
Josef ignored Mick's best attempt to look angry and ready to kill him, waved his friend off dismissively. If Mick didn't want to deal with the Beth situation, then Josef would and he wouldn't dance around the subject. He would dive straight in - although he would at least try and be a little tactful for Mick's sake - even if his friend didn't appreciate his methods. "You may trust Mick, but you don't trust what Mick is. Not really. At heart, Mick is really no different to me, and you said so yourself that you don't trust me, therefore what you distrust in me, you distrust in him. Why is that?"
Mick's nothing like you - Beth thought. He's not selfish, spoiled, callous or a... Her breath caught in her throat. Monster. She swallowed, and felt her anger rising. She was tired of being treated like the odd one out, the silly girl who didn't understand!
"Don't play word-games with me, Josef. You know what I mean. It might not mean anything to you to feed on freshies, but-"
"No, I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. Your aversion to freshies is most perplexing. You cannot have standards for the rest of us, say we're cruel and calculating monsters who feed off freshies while your Mick is exempt from being called a monster, despite him being no different to me," Josef said calmly, continuing on before Beth could continue. "Quite frankly Beth, whatever ideal notions you have about Mick are misplaced and they will only lead to trouble. Mick is a vampire, vampires bite, it's simple." If there was any expectation for this thing between Mick and Beth to work out, then some home truths needed to be hammered home. It didn't really matter if he was even less popular with the young Miss Turner, he already knew he wasn't one of her favourite people.
"Josef, give me back my phone," Mick demanded. He could only imagine what Beth must be feeling - it was exactly this kind of confrontation that made him hold off their relationship for so long. Humans didn't understand, couldn't understand.
Again, Beth was torn between wanting hang up the phone, and giving Josef a piece of her mind. How dare he decide what was best for Mick? He could live on blood from the blood bank, he had told her so himself. And if he would have to feed on fresh blood, like that time in the desert...
"...but it doesn't have to be your prostitutes," she said through clenched teeth.
Stiffening, not bothering to retort to Beth's immature and grossly incorrect misconception, Josef held the phone back to Mick, a tight, cold smile on his lips. It would appear that they had uncovered the reason for Miss Turner's aversion to freshies. "By all means, you talk to her now. Perhaps you would care to inform your friend, freshies and prostitutes do not amount to the same thing, and I take a great deal of offense when boorish misconceptions like that are formed," he said tightly, his voice loud enough that Beth would be able to hear it even though the phone was now changing hands. So much for the jollity of the evening.
Mick accepted the phone with a heavy heart. "Beth, can we talk about this tomorrow?" he asked quietly.
"Did you, or did you not drink from them, Mick?" Beth asked him relentlessly.
Mick closed his eyes for a moment, going over his options. "I did," he said finally.
"Then I'm not sure we'll have something to talk about tomorrow," Beth replied, audibly shaken, and hung up the phone.
For a moment, Mick just stared at the phone in his hand. Then he looked back at Josef. "I'm sure she didn't mean it that way," he offered. The valley below them suddenly lit up with fireworks, the explosions muted by the security glass in the large window front.
"Happy New Year."
It was New Year already? Well, wasn't the New Year off to such an awful start? Somewhere, somehow, he found a smile for his friend. "Happy New Year," he said before retrieving the cognac and refilling their glasses to bring in the New Year with a drink. And after that phone call, Josef needed a drink now. He dismissed the freshies with a look.
Josef didn't bother responding to his friend's attempt to excuse what Beth had said. No, she had meant it and now everything was becoming clear, Beth's aversion and near repulsion of the thought of Mick feeding off a freshie. Feeding off the freshies and having sex with them were two entirely different things, and while there were instances that both went hand in hand, it wasn't how the entire subject of freshies should be viewed. If Beth had so little trust of Mick and him fooling around on her, she obviously didn't know Mick as well as she thought she did. Mick was a one girl kind of guy.
"Now, where were we with our game of 8-ball?" he asked, his tone suddenly light and cheerful as he pushed the unpleasantness away.
Mick gladly accepted the glass Josef offered him, and they toasted to the new year. His friend's cheerfulness, be it forced, made him smile.
"You were winning, but my luck was about to turn," he said.
He thought about their game, which had brought the events of the night. Though, if he was completely honest to himself- and those moments often came unbidden after sobering up- it might have happened anyway. Mick had already been thinking about drinking fresh blood before Josef dared him to. It was too easy to lay the blame at his friend. He would have to tell Beth about this, too. If he made it out to be a spur-of-the-moment error induced by alcohol and edged on by Josef, she would hate Josef for it, and they would always have this discussion and he would eternally be in between. Eternally. Beth didn't have forever. Shaking that line of thought, Mick looked up at Josef.
"Despite...the call, I don't regret what happened," he said. He wanted Josef to know that he held himself responsible. "I will talk to her, and make her understand."
"Then we should continue our game for your luck to fully turn," Josef said calmly, taking another sip of his cognac before he racked the balls, focusing more on the simple task than was duly needed. He wouldn't be surprised if Mick was able to win given his state of distraction. At least maybe the first game or so before Josef relaxed and found his calm centre once more. Josef paused in lifting the rack of the table when Mick spoke again. He nodded slowly at his friend's words, finding him a smile that this time wasn't forced. "That is good, because you shouldn't regret what you did. Sure, I may have tricked you into it, but it was for your own good. A gentle reminder of what is your nature to do, to help you make peace with what you are," he said and sighed heavily, lifting the rack away from the neat formation of balls before he picked up his cue. "This is a second chance for you to make peace with your vampire self when you had a less than ideal teacher in Coraline."
He watched Josef break the game wordlessly. It was a second chance indeed, a second time he was turned, not by force but by choice, by his friend and mentor Josef. Maybe Beth and he could find some middle ground, with room for his conscience and her jealousy. Perhaps, if she would let him...drink from her? Mick discarded that idea again quickly. After this fight, he would be happy if she wanted to talk to him at all.
Josef's turn dealt him solids, and he observed the table. It was a relaxed game of trash - both had spoken enough for a while. But the evening's mood had plummeted, and Mick found it hard to concentrate. They called it a night after two games and parted, each leaving the other to their thoughts. There would be more New Years to come, and no matter what was to come, they would remain constant.
--End--