PG-13 Fanfic "Playing With Fire Chapter 3 of 9"
Since I said I'd probably get this up this weekend, and kosmickway said, "PLEASE keep it up," I present Chapter Three.
Title: "Playing With Fire Pt. 3"
Author: Rebecca Bradstreet
Rated: PG-13
Pair: John/Becca
Archived: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/shieldbearer/PlayingWithFirePt3.html
Summary: Becca lands in St Louis, and gets a lead from Jean-Claude.
Warning: Darkness, and death.
Disclaimer/Notes: This is a Profiler/Anita Blake Vampire Hunter Crossover. I don't own John Grant, Bailey Malone, or any other Profiler character. I don't own Rudolph Storr, Jean-Claude or any other Anitaverse character. I do own Rebecca Belinda "Becca" Drake. After all she is just a dragon version of me. I've include the end of Part Two at the beginning of this part inside <<>>. I use // for thoughts, and ** as emphasis. This isn't beta'd so all mistakes are my own. ;)
"Playing With Fire Pt. 3"
Rebecca Bradstreet (c) 2001
St Louis
Monday Feb 19, 2001
<< "May I have a look at your crime scene Sergeant Storr?" She asked waiting to see if he'd let her look at it alone, or insist she go over it with an audience. >>
Dolph nodded, and waved her towards the house. Malone had warned her Storr was a man of few words, but Drake hadn't guessed he would run out of words so quickly. Becca had her permission -- had it, and suddenly didn't want it. She didn't want to enter the house that had been the Merrill family's home. Drake didn't want to know anything more about the Merrill family than what she'd read in the ME's report in Atlanta. She squeezed her eyes shut against her urge to flee. Becca didn't want to let Dolph, or Bailey, or John see her internal struggle.
Malone, and Storr stood patiently waiting for Drake to go into the house. Grant could tell Becca was frozen. John wasn't sure about taking her hand in front of Bailey, and Dolph, but he knew she needed help. He reached out and touched her elbow. The way her eyes snapped open and fixed on him John was surprised Becca hadn't yanked herself free from his touch, stumbled into Storr, or away from the house and all of them. Looking into her eyes Grant understood her sudden reluctance. The horrors John could make out in her eyes made him glad he couldn't grasp all of them.
Grant's touch hadn't chased the horrors away for her, but it had pushed them back -- given her room to breathe. She looked into his sky blue eyes, and found herself surprised by the depth of the concern in them. Becca slid her arm through his hand until she was holding John's hand. Drake squeezed his hand, leaned into him, and whispered, "I can't go into that house alone."
Grant whispered back the promise, "I will go with you every step of the way," and squeezed her hand.
They walked into the Merrill's house hand in hand. The crime scene was old, cops and crime scene technicians had been and gone from it, but it was still plainly a crime scene. Becca studied it silently keeping one hand in John's. He watched her study each room -- the kitchen, the living room, the kids' rooms. The Merrill's had been a family with two kids and a dog. The wallpaper in the girl's room had ballet slippers on it; in the boy's room it was bucking broncos. John could feel the tension rise and fall in Becca as they moved from room to room.
What bothered him most about the crime scene wasn't looking in the kids' rooms, and knowing that they were dead. What bothered him was the lack of blood in the house. Somehow if a whole family was killed in the house their blood should have been spilled in it to mark their passing. Not that there wasn't something to mark their passing. There were the claw marks. Becca ran a hand lightly over some of them. She wasn't sure if they'd been made by claws of flesh or power. Something about them made her wonder. Becca stood and stared at them.
When Drake couldn't stand the silence any longer she whispered, "This place is a mess."
Grant studied her before responding, "Really? I hadn't noticed."
Becca shook her head with an uneasiness she couldn't pin down, "No...I don't mean the physical mess I mean...John? Close your eyes and tell me what you feel."
"You mean besides foolish?" He grinned while he closed his eyes, and tried to get some kind of feeling.
"Besides that," Becca smiled.
"Cold?" Grant ventured peeking at her. Drake nodded, "That's not air conditioning, or the deaths in this house it's..."
Becca groped for the words to define it for him. She gave up with a shrug, and said instead, "I know Sergeant Storr has spoken to the Master of the City, but I think I'd like a chance to speak with him."
Hotel
"We can't get a meeting until *tomorrow* night?" John asked his voice surprised, and angry. Drake brought the food, while Malone brought the bad news. Grant wasn't fooled as to who the bad news *really* belonged.
"John, we could force it tonight, but we won't get any information if we force it," Becca told him trying to calm him. She set the food aside. They'd brought the bad news to John's room so strangers wouldn't hear any argument.
"I thought you said this Master of the City was a friend of yours?" Grant scowled at her. Drake looked helplessly to Bailey for support.
"He is a friend of hers. He might talk to her tonight. He won't talk about the case tonight, but he might tomorrow," Malone explained to John as if he were being particularly dense.
"And what are we supposed to do in the mean time?" Grant asked.
"Wait," Bailey told him getting up. Drake suspected he was about to excuse himself from their presence leaving John to her. Becca was certain when Malone picked up his share of the food.
"Now, I have to go tell Dolph you have an appointment with Jean-Claude tomorrow night," Bailey nodded to Drake, and left her watching Grant pace. She rose, and stepped in the way of his pacing. Becca reached out and grabbed his arms.
"John, the monsters play power politics. If I didn't know Jean-Claude, he would stall for days while he dug around learning everything he could about us. If the master of this city was anyone other than Jean-Claude I wouldn't blame him for stalling. I *am* a very dangerous thing to have in this city. I might not be able to make a vampire burst into flames just by looking at one, but..." Drake held onto his arms, and her human form, though she was tempted to show him her dragon eyes once more.
"You are a lot of things Becca, but you aren't a monster," Grant told her his voice going soft, and soothing.
"Are you sure?" Drake asked in a brittle voice letting her dragon eyes show once more.
"I'm sure," John smiled slipping free of her hold, and wrapping his arms around her.
"A preternatural creature, but not a monster?" Becca asked, trying to decided if he was talking about who, or what she was.
"A 4,000 year old dragon that cares about catching killers -- keeping people safe," Grant said stroking her hair. She looked up at him her eyes returned to human.
"Keeping people safe...John, tomorrow at Jean-Claude's stay alert. I trust him but..." Becca took John's hand from her hair and squeezed it.
"I'll be careful just promise me you'll do the same," Grant lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it lightly.
"I promise. I think the safe thing for us to do right now is to eat, and get some sleep. Don't choke on your noodles without me," Drake grinned handing him his share of the Chinese food as she took hers, and went off to her own bed.
Circus of the Damned
Tuesday Feb 20, 2001
They were escorted into the Master of the City's office by a vampire, *and* a werewolf. Grant seemed overwhelmed, and Drake wanted to comfort him. Becca slipped her hand into John's, and squeezed his hand gently. Grant returned the soft pressure before Jean-Claude entered. John pulled his hand from Becca's, and The Master of the City sat down at his desk. Behind his desk it was hard to tell how tall Jean-Claude was. Drake knew Jean-Claude was 5'11", and the last time she'd seen him he hadn't been wearing his curly black hair so long. His sapphire blue eyes were as guarded as always.
"Miss Drake, Special Agent Grant, how can I help you?" The Master of the City asked politely.
"Miss Drake? You finally become the Master of a city, and I become Miss Drake instead of Becca?" Drake's tone was shocked, but her grin made John roll his eyes.
"I didn't know Agent Grant knows what you are." He studied John. Becca felt a brief urge to plant herself between them. She trusted Jean-Claude not to roll Grant with his eyes. Even if the Master of the City had been a threat to John, Grant knew not to make eye contact with a vampire. She squashed the urge.
"He knows. Nothing that isn't important to this case will leave this office. Where is Anita?" Drake knew that Blake wasn't just Dolph's missing expert she was dating Jean-Claude.
"Surely Sergeant Storr has already told you that I don't know." He looked unhappy Becca felt the need to ask. He wasn't scowling yet, but she hadn't finished asking questions.
"Oh, he told me *he* didn't know, and *you* told him you didn't know, but *I* know you Jean-Claude that doesn't necessarily mean *you* don't know. I want to know what I'm doing here, and I want to know you don't have a part in it." Drake sounded grumpy even to herself; to John she might have sounded suicidal. He definitely groaned.
"Ma flammeche, I don't know where Anita is *that* is the truth. The only part I have had in these troubles is trying to help end them. I wouldn't lie to you. Do you have any other questions before you leave?" Jean-Claude was scowling, and Becca knew he wasn't angry exactly, hurt, and worried were more like it.
"I know you wouldn't lie to me, Jean-Claude. I'm sorry. At the last crime scene I sensed something... The forces..." Drake felt as hopeless at explaining what she wanted to to him as she had trying to explain it to John earlier.
"There is something you might checkout. I didn't tell the police about it. You have strengths that they don't," Jean-Claude smiled knowingly, and gave Drake a piece of paper with an address on it. Becca took it, thanked him for it, and told Grant, "Come on, John, this interview is over."
Hotel
"So how come we're back here instead of out checking out this address?" Grant asked holding up the little slip of paper they'd gotten from the Master of the City.
"Because, Jean-Claude will have checked it out at night so we should check it out during the day. Besides, if we went to check it out without telling Bailey about it so he can tell Storr about it so..." Drake trailed off not sure where the progression went from there.
"So he can tell us if they checked out the address without getting it from Jean-Claude," John suggested.
"Sure," Becca sat next to Grant on his couch. She wasn't sure exactly how John's room had become the VCTF's center of operations in St Louis, but Becca wasn't complaining. If Drake had asked Bailey, he would have told her it was because that was where he kept finding his team.
"Dolph says there isn't much out there, but you can take a look first thing in the morning if you want to," Malone told them as he stepped through the door.
"Not much out there? Big surprise. If somebody was looking to do a complex monster summoning ritual they wouldn't be looking to do it downtown," Becca grumped, and John put his arms around her.
"You think somebody summoned up our killer?" Bailey asked standing at the door.
"If it wasn't summoned up it's probably fresh out of hibernation. I can't imagine importing something that can kill like this even illegally," Drake sighed, shook her head, and rested it on John's shoulder.
"Out of hibernation?" Grant asked squeezing Becca.
"Yeah, some preternatural carnivores can hibernate for centuries. This thing may be so unusual not because nobody has summoned one up before just because one hasn't been awake in centuries," Drake didn't like having to wonder where it was from.
"You'll check out the warehouse in the morning. Right now you need to get some sleep," Malone stepped up to the couch, and held out his hand to Becca. He was telling her to sleep on her concern. She guessed it was decent advice.
"Goodnight, John," Becca smiled softly at him as she took Bailey's hand, and let him walk her to her room.
Warehouse
Wednesday Feb 21, 2001
Dark and empty were just two words that could be used to describe the warehouse, old and rundown were two more, "in the middle of nowhere" was a good phrase.
"Remind me what we're doing out here?" John asked as he lit the rafters briefly with his flashlight.
"Looking for something of course," Drake grinned at his impatient tone, not that Becca was grinning for long.
She heard the movement before she saw it. It was a big black panther. Somehow Drake felt it was a werepanther. Grant saw it before it broke into a dead run at him. Time slowed down. Becca cried to him, "Shoot!"
John took one clear shot at it. Though Grant hit it square with a silver bullet it didn't slow down -- it wasn't a werepanther. It hit him, knocking him to the ground. His flashlight rattled of into the darkness. The...panther pinned him under its claws. Drake shifted to her weredragon form. She pulled it off of John, and tossed it away from him without looking to see where it landed. The panther didn't slink off, or move to attack again. It melted -- evaporated as if made from quicksilver. Becca shifted back to her human form. She knelt on the floor next to him. Drake tried to think.
//Don't die on me! Don't die on me! Don't die on me,// kept repeating in her head. Somehow she managed to pull the cell phone Bailey had made sure she had from her pocket, and called for an ambulance. The calm clear voice that gave the operator all the information he'd need to get an ambulance to them couldn't possibly be Becca's. Once she put the phone away she was all alone with Grant. He was bleeding, maybe dying, "You can't die on me John, you can't."
Drake sat down, and pulled him into her arms. Becca didn't worry about getting his blood on her clothes -- her hands. She held him, and whispered to him, "It's going to be all right. Just hang in there. Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I love you."
Her voice was thick with tears, and they slowly started to fall. Drake watched her tears hit his cheeks; roll down them like they were his own. Becca leaned forward and kissed her tears from his face. She kissed Grant's cheeks, and his lips. Becca repeated her plea, "Don't leave me John. I love you."
Title: "Playing With Fire Pt. 3"
Author: Rebecca Bradstreet
Rated: PG-13
Pair: John/Becca
Archived: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/shieldbearer/PlayingWithFirePt3.html
Summary: Becca lands in St Louis, and gets a lead from Jean-Claude.
Warning: Darkness, and death.
Disclaimer/Notes: This is a Profiler/Anita Blake Vampire Hunter Crossover. I don't own John Grant, Bailey Malone, or any other Profiler character. I don't own Rudolph Storr, Jean-Claude or any other Anitaverse character. I do own Rebecca Belinda "Becca" Drake. After all she is just a dragon version of me. I've include the end of Part Two at the beginning of this part inside <<>>. I use // for thoughts, and ** as emphasis. This isn't beta'd so all mistakes are my own. ;)
"Playing With Fire Pt. 3"
Rebecca Bradstreet (c) 2001
St Louis
Monday Feb 19, 2001
<< "May I have a look at your crime scene Sergeant Storr?" She asked waiting to see if he'd let her look at it alone, or insist she go over it with an audience. >>
Dolph nodded, and waved her towards the house. Malone had warned her Storr was a man of few words, but Drake hadn't guessed he would run out of words so quickly. Becca had her permission -- had it, and suddenly didn't want it. She didn't want to enter the house that had been the Merrill family's home. Drake didn't want to know anything more about the Merrill family than what she'd read in the ME's report in Atlanta. She squeezed her eyes shut against her urge to flee. Becca didn't want to let Dolph, or Bailey, or John see her internal struggle.
Malone, and Storr stood patiently waiting for Drake to go into the house. Grant could tell Becca was frozen. John wasn't sure about taking her hand in front of Bailey, and Dolph, but he knew she needed help. He reached out and touched her elbow. The way her eyes snapped open and fixed on him John was surprised Becca hadn't yanked herself free from his touch, stumbled into Storr, or away from the house and all of them. Looking into her eyes Grant understood her sudden reluctance. The horrors John could make out in her eyes made him glad he couldn't grasp all of them.
Grant's touch hadn't chased the horrors away for her, but it had pushed them back -- given her room to breathe. She looked into his sky blue eyes, and found herself surprised by the depth of the concern in them. Becca slid her arm through his hand until she was holding John's hand. Drake squeezed his hand, leaned into him, and whispered, "I can't go into that house alone."
Grant whispered back the promise, "I will go with you every step of the way," and squeezed her hand.
They walked into the Merrill's house hand in hand. The crime scene was old, cops and crime scene technicians had been and gone from it, but it was still plainly a crime scene. Becca studied it silently keeping one hand in John's. He watched her study each room -- the kitchen, the living room, the kids' rooms. The Merrill's had been a family with two kids and a dog. The wallpaper in the girl's room had ballet slippers on it; in the boy's room it was bucking broncos. John could feel the tension rise and fall in Becca as they moved from room to room.
What bothered him most about the crime scene wasn't looking in the kids' rooms, and knowing that they were dead. What bothered him was the lack of blood in the house. Somehow if a whole family was killed in the house their blood should have been spilled in it to mark their passing. Not that there wasn't something to mark their passing. There were the claw marks. Becca ran a hand lightly over some of them. She wasn't sure if they'd been made by claws of flesh or power. Something about them made her wonder. Becca stood and stared at them.
When Drake couldn't stand the silence any longer she whispered, "This place is a mess."
Grant studied her before responding, "Really? I hadn't noticed."
Becca shook her head with an uneasiness she couldn't pin down, "No...I don't mean the physical mess I mean...John? Close your eyes and tell me what you feel."
"You mean besides foolish?" He grinned while he closed his eyes, and tried to get some kind of feeling.
"Besides that," Becca smiled.
"Cold?" Grant ventured peeking at her. Drake nodded, "That's not air conditioning, or the deaths in this house it's..."
Becca groped for the words to define it for him. She gave up with a shrug, and said instead, "I know Sergeant Storr has spoken to the Master of the City, but I think I'd like a chance to speak with him."
Hotel
"We can't get a meeting until *tomorrow* night?" John asked his voice surprised, and angry. Drake brought the food, while Malone brought the bad news. Grant wasn't fooled as to who the bad news *really* belonged.
"John, we could force it tonight, but we won't get any information if we force it," Becca told him trying to calm him. She set the food aside. They'd brought the bad news to John's room so strangers wouldn't hear any argument.
"I thought you said this Master of the City was a friend of yours?" Grant scowled at her. Drake looked helplessly to Bailey for support.
"He is a friend of hers. He might talk to her tonight. He won't talk about the case tonight, but he might tomorrow," Malone explained to John as if he were being particularly dense.
"And what are we supposed to do in the mean time?" Grant asked.
"Wait," Bailey told him getting up. Drake suspected he was about to excuse himself from their presence leaving John to her. Becca was certain when Malone picked up his share of the food.
"Now, I have to go tell Dolph you have an appointment with Jean-Claude tomorrow night," Bailey nodded to Drake, and left her watching Grant pace. She rose, and stepped in the way of his pacing. Becca reached out and grabbed his arms.
"John, the monsters play power politics. If I didn't know Jean-Claude, he would stall for days while he dug around learning everything he could about us. If the master of this city was anyone other than Jean-Claude I wouldn't blame him for stalling. I *am* a very dangerous thing to have in this city. I might not be able to make a vampire burst into flames just by looking at one, but..." Drake held onto his arms, and her human form, though she was tempted to show him her dragon eyes once more.
"You are a lot of things Becca, but you aren't a monster," Grant told her his voice going soft, and soothing.
"Are you sure?" Drake asked in a brittle voice letting her dragon eyes show once more.
"I'm sure," John smiled slipping free of her hold, and wrapping his arms around her.
"A preternatural creature, but not a monster?" Becca asked, trying to decided if he was talking about who, or what she was.
"A 4,000 year old dragon that cares about catching killers -- keeping people safe," Grant said stroking her hair. She looked up at him her eyes returned to human.
"Keeping people safe...John, tomorrow at Jean-Claude's stay alert. I trust him but..." Becca took John's hand from her hair and squeezed it.
"I'll be careful just promise me you'll do the same," Grant lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it lightly.
"I promise. I think the safe thing for us to do right now is to eat, and get some sleep. Don't choke on your noodles without me," Drake grinned handing him his share of the Chinese food as she took hers, and went off to her own bed.
Circus of the Damned
Tuesday Feb 20, 2001
They were escorted into the Master of the City's office by a vampire, *and* a werewolf. Grant seemed overwhelmed, and Drake wanted to comfort him. Becca slipped her hand into John's, and squeezed his hand gently. Grant returned the soft pressure before Jean-Claude entered. John pulled his hand from Becca's, and The Master of the City sat down at his desk. Behind his desk it was hard to tell how tall Jean-Claude was. Drake knew Jean-Claude was 5'11", and the last time she'd seen him he hadn't been wearing his curly black hair so long. His sapphire blue eyes were as guarded as always.
"Miss Drake, Special Agent Grant, how can I help you?" The Master of the City asked politely.
"Miss Drake? You finally become the Master of a city, and I become Miss Drake instead of Becca?" Drake's tone was shocked, but her grin made John roll his eyes.
"I didn't know Agent Grant knows what you are." He studied John. Becca felt a brief urge to plant herself between them. She trusted Jean-Claude not to roll Grant with his eyes. Even if the Master of the City had been a threat to John, Grant knew not to make eye contact with a vampire. She squashed the urge.
"He knows. Nothing that isn't important to this case will leave this office. Where is Anita?" Drake knew that Blake wasn't just Dolph's missing expert she was dating Jean-Claude.
"Surely Sergeant Storr has already told you that I don't know." He looked unhappy Becca felt the need to ask. He wasn't scowling yet, but she hadn't finished asking questions.
"Oh, he told me *he* didn't know, and *you* told him you didn't know, but *I* know you Jean-Claude that doesn't necessarily mean *you* don't know. I want to know what I'm doing here, and I want to know you don't have a part in it." Drake sounded grumpy even to herself; to John she might have sounded suicidal. He definitely groaned.
"Ma flammeche, I don't know where Anita is *that* is the truth. The only part I have had in these troubles is trying to help end them. I wouldn't lie to you. Do you have any other questions before you leave?" Jean-Claude was scowling, and Becca knew he wasn't angry exactly, hurt, and worried were more like it.
"I know you wouldn't lie to me, Jean-Claude. I'm sorry. At the last crime scene I sensed something... The forces..." Drake felt as hopeless at explaining what she wanted to to him as she had trying to explain it to John earlier.
"There is something you might checkout. I didn't tell the police about it. You have strengths that they don't," Jean-Claude smiled knowingly, and gave Drake a piece of paper with an address on it. Becca took it, thanked him for it, and told Grant, "Come on, John, this interview is over."
Hotel
"So how come we're back here instead of out checking out this address?" Grant asked holding up the little slip of paper they'd gotten from the Master of the City.
"Because, Jean-Claude will have checked it out at night so we should check it out during the day. Besides, if we went to check it out without telling Bailey about it so he can tell Storr about it so..." Drake trailed off not sure where the progression went from there.
"So he can tell us if they checked out the address without getting it from Jean-Claude," John suggested.
"Sure," Becca sat next to Grant on his couch. She wasn't sure exactly how John's room had become the VCTF's center of operations in St Louis, but Becca wasn't complaining. If Drake had asked Bailey, he would have told her it was because that was where he kept finding his team.
"Dolph says there isn't much out there, but you can take a look first thing in the morning if you want to," Malone told them as he stepped through the door.
"Not much out there? Big surprise. If somebody was looking to do a complex monster summoning ritual they wouldn't be looking to do it downtown," Becca grumped, and John put his arms around her.
"You think somebody summoned up our killer?" Bailey asked standing at the door.
"If it wasn't summoned up it's probably fresh out of hibernation. I can't imagine importing something that can kill like this even illegally," Drake sighed, shook her head, and rested it on John's shoulder.
"Out of hibernation?" Grant asked squeezing Becca.
"Yeah, some preternatural carnivores can hibernate for centuries. This thing may be so unusual not because nobody has summoned one up before just because one hasn't been awake in centuries," Drake didn't like having to wonder where it was from.
"You'll check out the warehouse in the morning. Right now you need to get some sleep," Malone stepped up to the couch, and held out his hand to Becca. He was telling her to sleep on her concern. She guessed it was decent advice.
"Goodnight, John," Becca smiled softly at him as she took Bailey's hand, and let him walk her to her room.
Warehouse
Wednesday Feb 21, 2001
Dark and empty were just two words that could be used to describe the warehouse, old and rundown were two more, "in the middle of nowhere" was a good phrase.
"Remind me what we're doing out here?" John asked as he lit the rafters briefly with his flashlight.
"Looking for something of course," Drake grinned at his impatient tone, not that Becca was grinning for long.
She heard the movement before she saw it. It was a big black panther. Somehow Drake felt it was a werepanther. Grant saw it before it broke into a dead run at him. Time slowed down. Becca cried to him, "Shoot!"
John took one clear shot at it. Though Grant hit it square with a silver bullet it didn't slow down -- it wasn't a werepanther. It hit him, knocking him to the ground. His flashlight rattled of into the darkness. The...panther pinned him under its claws. Drake shifted to her weredragon form. She pulled it off of John, and tossed it away from him without looking to see where it landed. The panther didn't slink off, or move to attack again. It melted -- evaporated as if made from quicksilver. Becca shifted back to her human form. She knelt on the floor next to him. Drake tried to think.
//Don't die on me! Don't die on me! Don't die on me,// kept repeating in her head. Somehow she managed to pull the cell phone Bailey had made sure she had from her pocket, and called for an ambulance. The calm clear voice that gave the operator all the information he'd need to get an ambulance to them couldn't possibly be Becca's. Once she put the phone away she was all alone with Grant. He was bleeding, maybe dying, "You can't die on me John, you can't."
Drake sat down, and pulled him into her arms. Becca didn't worry about getting his blood on her clothes -- her hands. She held him, and whispered to him, "It's going to be all right. Just hang in there. Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I love you."
Her voice was thick with tears, and they slowly started to fall. Drake watched her tears hit his cheeks; roll down them like they were his own. Becca leaned forward and kissed her tears from his face. She kissed Grant's cheeks, and his lips. Becca repeated her plea, "Don't leave me John. I love you."