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cotecoyotegrrrl · 4 months

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Blue Christmas

( a little something for everyone who misses Rookie Blue and Gail and Holly )

The snow had started again, falling in a thick white sheet that covered the trash on the ground, and made the rundown neighborhood where they were waiting, and watching the front of the sleazy little bar look almost pretty. She sighed, and turned up the heat. It was going to be a long night.

"Sir?" the rookie beside her spoke up, "How long do you think we are going to be here?"

She rolled her eyes, and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel of the car, "I don't know Marcie, Sargent Shaw told us to be here until that loser we suspect robbed all of those elderly women shows up."

"Oh." He sounded a bit deflated.

"Sir? It's Harold, sir". He started again, "And you do know that it's Christmas tomorrow, right?"

She did know his name was Harold, and that it was Christmas tomorrow. In spite of always hating every single social climbing party her mother made her attend, she did miss having people to celebrate the holidays with, even though she would never admit it out loud to anyone. And that was at least part of the reason she took this crappy surveillance assignment in the first place. Fortunately Vince Guaraldi was playing on the radio and not some other mind-numbing Christmas music, even if her rookie was humming along.

"And your point is?" She turned to give him her best, deadly, fake smile.

"Umm… well…" She watched him squirm a little bit under her gaze, "It's Christmas Sir, and well... you know…"

"No Marcie, I don't know." She replied, "Why don't you tell me."

The new rookie kind of reminded her of Dov, back in the day, when he was oh so eager to prove himself, and yet, oh so annoyingly clueless.

"Well Sir, " He fidgeted, "Sargent Shaw made sure to tell me that if I didn't get you to the orphans Christmas party at the Penny tomorrow night, he would make sure I was stuck cleaning out the back of every squad car, every weekend until spring."

Oh, Oliver! Always trying to make sure she wasn't isolating herself. She smiled inwardly and shook her head.

"What." She demanded, and glared at the rookie who was staring at her. He did look like a deer in the headlights who was going to wet himself at any moment. She sighed.

"All right, all right, I'll go." she told him, rolling her eyes and watching him relax slightly.

The door of the bar opened, and two young men began to walk down the street, hoods of their puffy winter jackets up, hands shoved into the pockets of their jeans as they hunched against the cold. The rookie started to open the door of the car.

"Just where do you think you're going?" She asked, as she grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Well Sir…" the rookie began, but the men had already turned to look at the sound of the shutting car door, and started to run.

"Great." she cursed, "Ok Marcie, let's go!"

She pushed him out of the car, while shutting it off, grabbing the keys, and jumping out into the cold in one swift motion. God, she hated it when they ran!

"Eight seven two seven in pursuit of two subjects headed North on Brant St on foot" She radioed in, as she picked up her pace, "Requesting back up."

She was going to kill that rookie when they got back to the station! if Oliver didn't do it first. Her feet slid unsteadily on the ice beneath the newly fallen snow, and she watched the loser in front of her slip and fall as he attempted to duck into an alley. She steadied herself and leveled her taser at the seat of his pants

"Ok loser! Don't even think about getting up!" She told him in an overly sweet voice. "Or I'm gonna zap you in the nuts. Ten thousand volts straight to your junk," She gave him her very best, bright, fake smile, "So if you even think you might ever want to sit again, just don't."

She had him on his feet and one cuff on his wrist when she heard the shot. She pushed him roughly into a near by lamp post where she cuffed his arms around the pole, before taking off in the direction of the sound, cursing under her breath. Stupid rookie!

"Hey! Hey, you can't do this…!" She could here the loser yelling as she turned the corner into the dark alley. She ignored him and clicked on her radio.

"Eight seven two seven, shots fired in the vicinity of Brant St" She radioed in, and ran faster, feet sliding in the slick pavement, "Requesting back up… Now!"

"Fifteen oh seven responding." Chris's familiar voice crackled over her radio.

"Diaz! What's your twenty?" She demanded.

"I'm about three minutes out." Came the reply.

She breathed a sigh of relief, until she saw it. There was blood on the snow, glimmering black in the dim light.

Shit.

She drew her weapon and slowed her pace, glancing cautiously about.

"Forman?", She called out, hoping her rookie would answer.

Nothing.

"Marcie?" She called again.

"Halt! Drop your weapon!" She heard her rookie order from behind a stack of wooden pallets.

As she turned toward the sound, her feet slid in a patch of ice under the snow. There was a sickening crunch, the world spun out of control, and she hit the ground with a dull thud.

Great.

Bright headlights swept the alley where she found herself looking up at the darkly shifting clouds, and there was snow falling on her face. Breaks squealed, a car door slammed, and the sound of hurried footsteps crunched on the snow, heading in her direction.

"Gail?" Chris's worried face was bending over hers, "Were you shot? There isn't much blood… just some on the snow…" He was touching her face with a warm hand, "Come on Gail! Stay with me! Help is almost here!"

"Jesus Christ Chris! I only slipped on the ice and twisted my ankle. Stop touching me!" She snapped, "And where the hell is my rookie?"

She tried to sit up, but the world swam and white hot pain shot up her leg making her feel sick. She groaned softly and hoped he wouldn't notice.

"You don't look ok…" Chris continued, looking worried and lifting her up in his arms, as if she was a baby.

"Put me down Chris!" She demanded with a dangerous edge to her voice, "And tell me where Marcie is or I swear the blood you will see on the snow will be your own."

"OK. If you insist." He replied as he lowered her feet to the ground. "Forman is over with Callahan talking to him about firing his weapon at the perp, and Fox is by dumpster looking for the gun the suspect Forman was chasing threw away after firing it at the two of you. The perps are in custody in my cruiser, and Oliver wants to talk to you as soon as you get back to the House."

She instantly regretted standing up, as pain so sharp it made her grit her teeth shot up her leg as she put weight on it.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" She cursed as she tried to take a step toward Chris. He caught her just as she was about to fall. "Stupid rookie! Why couldn't he just stay in the car?!" She groaned.

"Come on Gail, I'm gonna take you to the hospital to have that ex-rayed just as soon as McNally and Price get here to collect your rookie, and bring the suspects in for questioning." He insisted.

"I'm fine Chris!" She glared at him. "I don't need to go to the hospital."

"Then I'm sure you don't need my help walking over to the car either." He said, letting go of her arm and standing back to look smugly at her with his arms crossed.

She tried to take a step forward, but her ankle gave way, her leg crumpled, and she landed on the ground with a muffled yelp.

"That's it!" He told her as he scooped her back up, "I'm taking you to the car, and then to the hospital."

She hit him on the shoulder to get him to put her down, but he ignored her.

❄️🎄❄️

It was late and it had been a long time since she had been in the bowels of Toronto General Hospital. In-fact, it had been a long time since she had been in Toronto at all. Why she had agreed to meet Lisa here instead of just meeting her and Rachael at the bar was beyond her. She was sure she already knew what Lisa was going to say about her latest failed relationship with Susan, an up and coming prosecutor in the San Francisco DA's office. She sighed, Lisa had told her to meet her here, but Lisa was nowhere to be found. Maybe Lisa had gotten called into emergency surgery at the last minute, as she was still working one weekend a month in the E.R. so she could keep her hospital privileges. Holly doubted it, but it was possible. She swore if she caught Lisa sneaking out of the supply closet with some random woman, again tonight, she was going to kill her!

After two years in San Francisco, she was home for the holidays, and maybe this was a mistake. She usually avoided big family celebrations, like Christmas, or weddings. The thought of the last wedding she attended flashed briefly through her mind, causing her to smile sadly, and shake her head. If she was going to be honest, if only to herself, she would have to admit that a large part of the reason she had come back had to do with the caustic, beautiful, complicated woman she had left behind. At the very least, she needed to attempt to retrieve the piece of her heart she had given away. At the very best… well… Gail didn't belong to her, and she was probably busy being a mom and therefore unavailable, or maybe she had found someone else. She almost hoped Gail had found someone else, someone who could make Gail happy. And yet, here she was back in Toronto, needing answers, and wanting to know if they could at the very least be a part of each other's lives. Not exactly a fairy tale.

The halls of the hospital down by radiology were dark and quiet as she continued her search. She was headed away from Lisa's office, and in the direction of the Emergency Room to find someone who could page her elusive friend, becoming more frustrated by the moment. If it wasn't for the fact that she would be meeting Rachael's new girlfriend for the first time, she would have just gone back to her sister's townhouse. Lisa be damned! She was just pulling her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans to call Rachael and tell her she would be on her way without Lisa when she heard it.

"I'll have a blue Christmas without you."

Someone was singing.

"I'll be so blue just thinking about you."

Someone who sounded just like drunk Gail doing her best Elvis impersonation over the phone last Christmas Eve, just after She had gotten home from her new job's holiday party. The sound made her freeze and her heart beat faster.

"Decorations of red on our green Christmas tree"

But Gail wouldn't be here unless… She felt herself flush with dismay, and started to walk quickly in the direction of that voice.

"Won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me"

She picked up her pace as she entered the emergency room waiting area.

"and when those blue snowflakes start falling… that's when those blue memories start calling…"

The singing suddenly stopped. She sighed. It wouldn't be difficult for her to believe she had imagined the whole thing. After all she had conjured Gail in every dark bar, on every crowded street, and anywhere she saw the flash of short blonde hair and a leather jacket, or worse, at karaoke nights at her favorite lesbian bar, after she had had a drink or two, for the last two years.

Where was Lisa?! And God forbid anyone kept Lisa waiting! But somehow Lisa just couldn't afford her friends the same courtesy...

She felt her ire begin to rise again. As she stormed past the ambulance bay she noticed the police cruiser fifteen oh seven parked in between two ambulances and the fire department rescue truck.

Oh no!

She spun on her heel and headed for the admitting desk. She was just about to ask the charge nurse where Officer Gail Peck was, and use her old credentials if necessary to gain access to her, no matter how sketchy that might be, when Lisa came out of the nurses station.

"Holly! Hey!" Lisa exclaimed, in an overly cheery voice, as she rushed to greet her "We have had such a crazy night! I hope you weren't waiting long."

At least Lisa had the decency to look slightly guilty.

"I'm sure you were having a crazy night." She replied, pointedly looking at the pretty, young nurse's aid who blushed and smiled at Lisa as she scooted past them, "It would have been nice if you had let me know that you weren't in your office, but then again being considerate of others was never quite your strong suite."

"Oh, come now Holly," Lisa smirked, "I was just being helpful. You know how busy the holidays get."

The singing started up again.

"You'll be doing alright with your Christmas of white…"

"Yeah, I bet you were…" She rolled her eyes, "By the way, is that Gail I hear in there singing?"

Lisa shrugged "Probably just some drunk who got into trouble on Christmas… you know how the holidays are…" she replied as she grabbed Holly by the elbow and hurried her toward the door to the staff parking garage. "Come on, Rachael is waiting!"

"And just who's fault is that?" She shot back with a glare, but reluctantly followed Lisa out into the night.

"But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas…"

Whoever was singing, she knew just how they felt.

🎄❄️🎄

It wasn't fair! She thought as she popped a painkiller into her mouth and washed it down with the last swig of her beer. Why did she always have to come to these stupid things? Couldn't they just leave her alone, and let her stay home for once? She wondered as she watched them all laughing and caring from her seat at the bar. The pain in her ankle seemed to throb in time to the cheery Christmas music too, making her scowl.

"How are you holding up there Peck?" Oliver materialized next to her, with her rookie at his side. "Good thing the two of you caught those guys, and now you can be here enjoying the festivities!" He clapped her on the shoulder.

"That's just great Oliver." She grumbled

"Sir? How is your foot Sir? Can I get you anything?" Her rookie asked with all the eagerness of a puppy.

The black eye he was sporting looked worse next to the white bandage on his cheek, and the one across his nose. He had run into a board sticking sideways out of a dumpster while chasing the perp down the dark alley. Luckily, the nails in the board, that had caught his cheek, had missed his eye. The doctors had told them he was very lucky indeed, but he had broken his nose when he slipped fell. All of the other rookies and some of the other cops were congratulating him like he was some kind of a hero. If the Division Fifteen's Holiday Party at the Black Penny hadn't been an open bar, he would have been cleaning up with people buying him drinks, and her too.

She held up her glass and looked sadly at it.

Oliver smirked and turned, "Yes Forman, why don't you go get Peppermint Patty here another round, and get us both a glass of that good bourbon, the one Angus keeps for me behind the bar." He said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

He turned back to to look at her in a fatherly way.

"What." She grunted.

"I'm glad you decided to come out tonight." He said with a smile.

"You told me to be here." She smiled back and then rolled her eyes at him.

"You know Darlin', you should come out to the cabin with Celery and me tomorrow and spend Christmas with us." He said

"I don't know…" She replied.

"Come on Gail," He went on, "I know you don't have any plans, Dov is going to meet his new girlfriend's family in Detroit, Chris will be with his son, Chloe and Frankie are…"

"Ugh!" She interrupted, "Don't remind me! I caught them defiling the rug underneath the Christmas tree when I got home from the hospital."

Oliver laughed, "And now that you are out on medical leave, you won't be working, so... " He paused to look seriously at her for a moment and leaned in conspiratorially, "Celery is quitting the healthy macrobiotic diet for the holidays. She will be making a Beef Wellington, with potatoes and gravy, and baking her grandmother's famous whiskey chocolate cake to honor her ancestors, she says."

"Well, " She replied, suddenly turning to brightly grin at him, "Why didn't you just say so!"

"Good!" He nodded, and smirked back at her, "Good. We will be expecting you then."

❄️☃️❄️

It was getting late as she stumbled from the bar, tired of all of the looks she had been getting all night. She wished they would just stop talking behind her back and say it to her face. Yes, she was a bitch, and worse, yes she was a Peck, and yes, she would have ended up alone on Christmas if it had not been for Oliver. And now she was in this stupid walking cast. She felt pathetic.

Last night had been a disaster. She hated hospitals with a passion, and running into someone she never wanted to see again didn't help her mood either. She and the rookie had been waiting in the emergency room for someone to look at the cut on his face, and for her x-rays to come back.

"Well, well, well, I see you haven't improved at running." That smug voice she would never forget spoke up.

She turned to glare at the doctor who was holding Forman's chart.

"What's wrong Bitchtits?" She replied, "Slumming in the emergency room tonight? Run out of women willing to let you go all Frankenstein on their boobs?"

Lisa huffed. "You should be pleased that someone with my expertise is on call and willing to stitch ip your partner so an ugly scar won't ruin his lovely babyface." She shot back.

"And I thought working on blue-collar, beat cops was beneath you." She rolled her eyes.

"You must be in a lot of pain with that fractured ankle," Lisa moved over to stand beside her.

And before she could say anything, or stop her, Lisa had hit the button on the morphine pump that she had not used yet on her IV, and the world started spinning out of control.

She leaned heavily on her crutches as she hobbled toward the bus stop. She had escaped from the hospital just after dawn, getting a ride home with her rookie. She didn't tell him that they wanted to admit her for observation. It had all become too much; the pain, the nightmares, the hospital, and vivid memories of the Christmas she spent with Holly were all haunting her. She just needed to be left alone. She knew she should be cold, but the combination of alcohol and painkillers was making her pleasantly warm and sleepy. She sat down on the bench to wait for the bus and closed her eyes. Just for a little while. Just as the snow began to fall again.

"Hey!"

Someone was shaking her.

She was dreaming about eating bacon and donuts in bed with Holly. Light was streaming through the curtains of Holly's bedroom, making her skin glow. Her stomach growled.

"Hey Gail!" They said again, a little bit louder this time.

She was just about to tell them to fuck off when she opened her eyes and fell into the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen. She knew she must still be dreaming. She wondered what Holly was doing now, and hoped that she was happy in San Francisco. The woman who often haunted her dreams smiled that maddening crooked smile, the one that could make her do anything, and tilted her head adorably at her.

"Gail! Hey!" Holly said again.

She smiled back, and laughed to herself.

"You said that already." she replied, knowing that at any second Dream Holly would disappear.

"I knew it sounded familiar." Holly's voice was warm, but her eyes were worried.

It was just like Holly had been on the night she had cut off all of her hair in the bathroom of Holly's townhouse.

"Come on Gail, let's get you into the car before you freeze to death." Holly continued

"I'm waiting for the bus." She told Dream Holly confidently, with a sleepy grin.

"Wouldn't you rather get a ride home in my nice warm car?" Holly asked, a little bit more forcefully.

She laughed. Holly would want her to do that. Too bad this was only a dream.

"I bet you say that to all the girls." She smirked at Dream Holly.

"Only the really drunk ones." Holly rolled her eyes, "Now come on Gail, seriously, get in the car."

Dream Holly was awfully pushy.

"Ok." She conceded, "But only if we can keep eating bacon. I'm not that easy you know."

Holly looked amused, made a really rude noise in the back of her throat, and answered, "Oh… I know!"

Dream Holly was laughing at her again, and helping her to her feet.

🎄❄️🎄

It was the light that woke her, the brightness of sunlight on snow, and the smell of bacon cooking. She cuddled further into the warm nest of her pillow that smelled like Holly without opening her eyes. It's funny, she thought sleepily, how you can remember simple things about a person, like the way they smell. The light was beginning to annoy her. That and the throbbing pain in her ankle. She knew that she should take an other pain killer, but she didn't want to feel that out of control, again. She wondered who had come in and opened the drapes in her bedroom. She was going to have to give Chloe a stern talking to, even if she was cooking bacon.

She heard the sound of her bedroom door opening. Damn it! She really was going to kill that tiny little muppet! Why had she told Chloe that she could move into her second bedroom when she broke up with Dov for the last time? She opened her eyes and realized she wasn't in her own bed. She sat up with a start to see Holly closing the door behind her, juggling a tray with two cups of coffee and what looked like Gail's phone.

What the..?

"Yeah, she's just waking up. Thanks Oliver, I will have her call you back after she has her first cup of coffee." Holly laughed and smiled into the phone, "Yeah, I'll ask her what she thinks about that."

She could feel her heart starting to melt as Holly turned to smile at her.

"Yes. Of Corse! No need to thank me." Holly responded, "Yes! It's been nice talking with you too… Ok… bye." she hung up the phone.

"Holly? What… what are you doing here?" She sputtered when she could form words.

Holly sat on the edge of the bed placing the tray with two coffees and a plate of bacon between them.

"Well," Holly replied slowly, "Right now I'm bringing you some breakfast."

"Wait…" She said looking around her at the once familiar bedroom of Holly's old townhouse, "Wait… wait! What am I doing here?"

"Well," Holly tilted her head with a twinkle in her eye, "You did say you would come with me if I kept feeding you bacon." She picked up a crispy, fragrant, brown piece of greasy goodness and waived it at Gail who opened her mouth reflexively to receive it.

"Mmmm but why are you here, here?" She replied, still chewing with her mouth full and waiving the remaining stump meat in her hand.

"It is Christmas," Holly replied, "And I missed you."

She couldn't seem to help it. She swallowed thickly. Holly's lips were like a magnet drawing her in. And kissing her was everything she had remembered and was better than any pain killer she could take to make her forget her ankle. It was like sunshine, and hope, and yes, like the best Christmas morning ever! When they finally broke apart, slightly out of breath, foreheads touching.

she whispered "What about San Francisco?"

"I'm on Sabbatical for the next six months working on a research project here in Toronto." Holly whispered back,

She leaned in capturing Holly's lips again, and then her brain kicked in. Damn it! "Wait.. wait! Holly? We need to talk." She said regretfully.

"I know… I know.." Holly replied. "I guess being a mom has made you the responsible one."

"I'm not." She felt her throat clench at the thought of Sophie, but she was just glad that Sophie had a real family right now, and yet… "I didn't get to be Sophie's mom."

"Oh. i'm sorry." Holly looked sad, and concerned.

"No, it was for the best." She replied, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall, "And so was your move to San Francisco."

"Gail." Holly said softly, "Gail, look at me."

She opened her eyes to find Holly's face mere inches from her own. Kissing Holly again reminded her of everything she had been missing over the past twenty two months, and two days, and sixteen hours, not that she was counting. It was intoxicating.

"I missed you too!" She murmured into Holly's lips.

Holly turned and carefully placed their breakfast tray on the bedside table to give herself more room to scoot closer on the bed.

"Oliver wanted to know when he should expect you, and if I would like to come up to the cabin too." Holly told her.

"Later." She replied, grabbing Holly by the collar of her hoodie to drag her flush on top of her, "But right now, we have so much lost time to make up for!"

"Ok." Holly grinned knowingly at her, taking care not to bump her injured leg, before leaning back in to kiss her full and deep.

She sighed happily, and thought, best Christmas ever! And then there was no more thinking.

#rookie blue #gail peck #gail and holly #holly stewart #rookie blue fan fiction #since you've been gone #lgbtq

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ashecampos · 2 years

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- his secret -

Vampire bucky x female y/n.

you’ve been dating your military boyfriend for about 2 years but what you didn’t know is that he has a dark secret. 1940s bucky barnes x Steve’s twin sister, y/n. Blood!Angst!darkthemes!Y/N’s pov

The war had been over for four years now, four years ago we met. Although I remember it like it was yesterday.

- four years earlier-

It was a normal day to say the least, I went to work with the girls as we all had to because the men of the house where still at war, once I was back, I unlocked the door to mine and Steve’s apartment. The apartment was small and stuffy but it was home. I place my purse upon the counter top which was decorated with a stack of newspapers and two navy jackets.

I rub my eyes as if a trick of reality had fallen upon me from the lack of sleep and rest I have had the last couple of years. Upon my eyes focusing back on the jackets I was lead to the fact he was finally home.

I push the door for the living room and there he is “oh my, Steve” I say in shock, my hands covering my mouth as my brother, the star spangled man is stood in the living room of our apartment. He is so much taller and muscular now than before, i once heard about the super soldier serum and how Steve was chosen to be it’s subject, i then heard about the test working, after that day steve was all over the tabloids and propaganda posters.

Snapping me out of my trance Steve’s now deeper voice beams through the small room “oh how I’ve missed you y/n, I have someone you must meet” he says whilst engulfing my tiny body in a hug, once we break from the hug, I am aware of the other person in the room.

I look at the other man, his pale skin fills the room with light, his pale pink lips, puffy and chapped from the winters frost. His eyes, deep blue alike to the blue of a lapis crystal you see in travelers show. His dark hair contrasts his pale skin, his face is home to war scars and newer cuts.

Once again breaking out of yet another trance, the man is ushered toward me by Steve “this is my dearest friend and colleague, Sargent James Buchanan Barnes” the man then smiles a little toward me.

“please mind my manners, hello, I’m y/n, Steve’s sister” I say with a smile and an extended hand just as any lady should.

He links out hands and we are both share a handshake “I’m terribly sorry for the intrusion doll, you can call me James”

- present day 1949 -

After that first encounter, Steve’s mission was always to set me and James up, what more would a man want for his sister than his closest friend to be wed with her.

Me and James have been together for two years now and I’ve never been happier than I am now, Steve has a child with his now wife Margaret in who he met during his time in the military.

For the past year, after his business trip, James has been acting a little weird, I had recently pinned it down to some European sickness but upon the trip to the doctors office, there was no diagnosis for the illness.

In the past six months, he had stopped going out during the day and decided to start taking the night shift at his office to try avoid human contact as much as possible. He had been suffering with his senses, saying it is as if they had been turned up to 100 and that he could hear things that I couldn’t, this had me concerned and confused.

However, now he seems to have gotten used to this mysterious sickness, as if he had accepted whatever he has and has decided to use it to his advantage.

It’s finally our two year anniversary, today and our neighbour, Agnes had helped me set up a scenic atmosphere within the house before she went to work for the day, James had taken the day shift to the fact he wanted to get off earlier to spend his day with his ‘doll’.

I change into one of my best dresses, dinner already upon the candle lit table, I hear the door unlock and the steps of my lover coming into the room, he walks in, looking as handsome as ever. His eyes light up as he sees the layout of the room, he brings a box into view. A pink boutique clothing store box with a pink ribbon and a bouquet of roses on top of the box in which he sets down upon the table. He latches his hand upon my waist and pulls me in for a kiss, upon pulling away “happy anniversary doll” he says in a deep voice. We share a couple of kisses before sitting down, he ushers me to open my gift as he places the flowers in a vase.

I pull the end of the pink ribbon, allowing the box to be opened, I take the lid off of the box, in the box is a dress I had been eyeing up in a designer shop a few months ago “oh james, it’s dashing darling, thank you” I say with a hand over my mouth in awe to the man sat in front of me. “Your welcome my love. This dinner looks stunning doll” he states whilst picking up his cutlery and taking a bite of the food, with a smile I do the same and we eat while making conversation about the new shows playing in the local theatre.

After thirty or so minutes we are both finished and I had taken the plates into the kitchen, and cleaned them before making my way back to my boyfriend.

What I see next is the one thing I would’ve never expected within my life time. I see my boyfriend in the middle of the bedroom, we share, a pool of blood at his feet, and one of his newer colleagues in his grasp as he places his mouth to the neck of the older man. I stand in the doorway in shock and disbelief. “James” I say with a gasp. He drops the now dead man and turns to look at me, blood pours down his chin from his mouth. He looks healthier than ever as he says “y/n I can explain please sit dear” his two front canine teeth have been transformed into sharp fangs, he walks over to the door, pulling me into the room, onto the bed.

“what are you?” I say with a shaky voice as I sit on the bed with him.

“When I went on that business trip in Europe I was attacked by some men. One of them bit me, it’s called vampirism, the doctor has found my diagnostics the week I had came back but I had payed him off to not tell you or anyone. I’m so sorry doll” he says with an apologetic look as he wipes the blood off of his face.

“you mean to tell me the folklore stories are of truth” I look into his eyes, he is serious. My boyfriend is a vampire.

hey guys it’s spooky season so this is the start of my halloween tropes + mcu characters. I’m sorry this wasn’t longer, I’ve never wrote for Bucky, I don’t know how he would act but my friend requested vampire Bucky so this is as good as it’ll get. Please feel free to drop some more ideas for these stories. have a great day guys.

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iammistressofmyfate · 1 year

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15 Questions | 15 People

Rules: Answer these 15 Questions, then Tag 15 People

Thanks for tagging me @mychemicalrachel!! 🥰🥰

Are you named after anyone? Yes! My middle name is my grandmother's maiden name

When was the last time you cried? This weekend probably lol

Do you have kids? NOPE

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Indeed

What’s the first thing you notice about people? Their smile and body posture

What’s your eye colour? Hazel

Scary movies or happy ending? Happy ending!

Any special talents? I'm very good at remembering names and details about people

Where were you born? The good ol' US of A

What are your hobbies? Writing, working out, walking (when the weather is warmer), getting back into reading

Do you have any pets? No :(

What sports do you play/have you played? I ran in high school and I do CrossFit (if you count that as a sport)

How tall are you? Blue Sargent tall

Favourite subject at school? English Lit

Dream job? Already doing it! ;) (Therapist with her own private practice)

Alright.... Time for tagging.... @annaofaza @zombietime @bavariansugarcookie @mens-frights-activist @unknowablecore @zephfair @itwasabout it's not 15 people but it's what I'm willing to do lol

Feel free to ignore this if you've already been tagged or if you don't wanna do it. Or feel free to consider yourself tagged if you wanna do it! 💕

#tag game #asks answered

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charleslebatman · 9 months

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Anyway, if you're interested in art, don't hesitate to suggest your favorite paintings. Maybe I'll finally falling in love of a the canva.\\\

Like you I don't have a fave canvas but I really appreciate Dark Blue Turban by von Jawlensky, Girl with sherbet by Balababa, Fränzi in front of Carved Chair, and Marzella by Kirchner; and Madame X by Sargent. Talking about statues, I really like Camille Claudel works and the Eternal Idol by Rodin.

Bestie, you’ve taste. 🥰

I was subjected by Girl with sherbet and Madame X is 🥵. I do think I’ve something for portraits.

Plus, I had a very nostalgic feeling with Kirchner, he was one of the first artists I saw in class. 🥹Camille Claudel, of course. ❤️

It’s great to talk more about art than Alexa and Charles. 🫠

#art history

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4eternal-life · 1 year

Photo

John Singer Sargent (American, 1856–1925)

Bedouins, 1905-1906

Opaque and translucent watercolor, 18 x 12in. (45.7 x 30.5cm)

Brooklyn Museum

... Sargent considered this powerful portrait of two men to be the keynote work of his Bedouin watercolors. His earliest critics took note of the expressive force of the carefully delineated faces, set off by the play of highlights on the saturated blues of the kaffiyeh (head scarves).

Sargent otherwise described the figures, including details such as the curved khanjar (daggers) in the main figure’s belt, with the broad, expressive handling that characterizes the Bedouin subjects as a whole.

https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/20367

#john singer sargent #bedouins #american art #impressionism #portrait #realism #american renaissance #art #watercolor #mu art #mu #brooklyn museum

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nialltlynch · 1 year

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whooooo okay uhhh here's what i have for these. (and TECHNICALLY that should be ashley one and ashley two since ive already posted three but wahhhhhhhtever)

my wip fridge: the post

niall mor greenmantle piper cheating au - sorry !!!! i don't really have a snippet but basic vibes are very much some reality tv show full of the most annoying people you can think of except they meet up at a magical black market. i also have it in my head that mor, niall, and greenmantle are all vaguely the sameish age but piper is a good decade younger. (she has a vibrant social circle outside of them.) theyre not a polycule because theyre rancid and niall and mor keep saying theyre catholic and piper wouldn't want to be associated with the rest of them outside of the fairy market !!!! uhhhhm basically niall is the physical embodiment of "boobs in my mouth boobs in my mouth boobs in my mouth youre NOTHING", mor is constantly suicide baiting him (often while theyre fucking), greenmantle wants so desperately to be liked but unfortunately hes from BALTIMORE, and piper is a wannabe influencer who could totally blow the cover of the whole magical black market thing if anyone took her seriously. (she's been shadowbanned for having a dildo shaped thing in the background of one many of her photos (absolutely a dildo but that's beside the point)).

jordan blue thing (may have posted some of this before idr)

Jordan had seen Blue Sargent naked before she'd even learned her name.

They met in a figure drawing class which did wonders for Jordan's wandering late night imagination. Little forays that paid off during the day when Jordan came to paint. She had pictured the arch of Blue's back and the fullness of her thighs pressed together. There were hours where Jordan spent trying to mentally capture light falling on Blue's breasts.

Always with an academic mind, of course. Definitely. When she thought of running her hands along her skin it was purely for the way Blue would react. What color were her cheeks when she's flushed? Was her skin soft? Giving? And those lips. What did they taste of? Mint? Cherries?

Jordan sighed as the class came to an end. Before the piece had been a collection of lines and shadows, her gaze too close and critical, but now, with the bell ringing, she takes a step back.She looked at her drawing: eyes downcast, shoulder shrugged in coy invitation, the curve of the back slightly exaggerated. She couldn't quite get the hair right. Not spiky enough, her mind supplied unhelpfully. Jordan compared the drawing to the subject: dark brown eyes that couldn't be properly captured in charcoal and -

She was looking straight at Jordan.

Blue had shrugged on the tatty old robe and tied it loosely. Jordan smiled and put away her supplies.

"You're the best one in class," Blue said it loud enough for other students to hear. She didn't even bother with side eye. Just a full on defiant what are you going to do about it look. When the students left she turned back to Jordan and gestured to one of the easels and leaned in conspiratorially. "There's no way I'm that toned. A shame? Maybe. But it's the truth."

Jordan felt a laugh bubble up in her throat. She made a study of Blue, not bothering to hide the way she was clearly checking her out. "Call it artistic liberties."

"When you draw me," Blue said as she came around behind Jordan to look at her work. "You get it. There are things about me worth the attention and sometimes it seems like you're the only one who notices."

They turned their attention to Jordan's unfinished drawing. Jordan wondered if Blue could tell how Jordan lingered on the lips. The neck. The eyes.

"I'll finish you off someday," Jordan said. When she looked at Blue she noticed how her robe had fallen just slightly off her shoulder. A stupid thing to notice. A little break of skin. Jordan had an eyeful of naked Blue on display only moments ago. She swalllowed.

"You busy tonight?" Blue asked, turning suddenly. "We always do this thing Wednesday nights, you want in? Just a couple drinks. No pressure."

Jordan thought about her apartment and the unfinished paintings drying on the walls. Most nights were spent lost among these things, half inside her own head and half arguing with Hennessy about nothing and everything. She couldn't remember the last time she had let herself chill or hang or whatever people called it these days.

Blue scribbled her number on an extra piece of scrap paper - this one was splattered with oils and paints that stained Blue's fingers when she pulled away.

adam and mr gray

"It's rather late for questions, Mr. Parrish," Mr. Gray says.

Without saying anything, Adam presses the collection of papers and clippings and evidence into Mr Gray's hands. Presented without comment.

Mr. Gray is an interesting specimen. The very first thing Adam had noticed about the man was his insistence on consistency. Unflappable in a way that Adam originally had attributed to a career languishing in professorship but Mr. Gray dismissed that immediately. His hair was gray (prematurely Adam decided after tracing the line of his jaw with his eyes for the entire first class session), he had broad shoulders and a slight limp on his left side that he was usually very good at hiding unless he had been standing in one spot for more than five or so minutes. Which he was careful never to do. Adam had found himself fascinated from the first. Mr. Gray was smart and easy going but there had been something else in there as well.

Adam watches him now flip through the various bits of evidence Adam had collected over the ten days of panic over Ronan. The tiny scuff on the surface, perfectly concealed except to an eye that was looking. Mr. Gray keeps his face mostly clear of any indication of anything at all (Adam watches his jaw closely for he knows that's where Mr. Gray keeps most of his emotions) until he reaches the very end. Adam swallows. He hopes it's enough.

"What do you want?" Mr. Gray finally asks, looking up.

"Resources," Adam says.

Mr. Gray fully opens the door and allows Adam inside. Adam's never been inside his office, never had much use for it. It's deceptively sparse except for a grand bookcase stocked tastefully with books exactly like one would expect. It's the trinkets that line the top shelf that catch Adam's eye. To any one else, student or colleague, they would seem to be the collection of a somewhat quirky professor. GIfts, maybe. Things bought on a whim with a story gladly told but closer inspection shows Adam waht they really are.

Trophies.

Expensive things taken from hits to serve as a reminder of what life might have been. Used to be. Life outside of the office?

ashley 2 (actually 1)

"Okay, on three, ready? One, two - I'm gay."

Declan does not abide the rules. He looks at her with the same inconcievable confusion he always wears, his salad all skewered and dressed on his tiny fork and halfway up to his gaping mouth.

"You were supposed to tell me you're gay, too! Twinsies!"

"I am not gay," Declan says lowly, looking furtively around them.

"The warehouse," Ashley prompts. "Mr. What Do You Know About Welsh Kings? If every man in the world were built like that then maybe I wouldn't have strayed the straight and narrow but come on. Are you really not out yet? Not even to yourself? Baby, listen, you're gay."

He gently sets his fork down and crumples the fabric napkin in his fists.

"Can you just break up with me like a normal person?" he takes her hand and clasps it around her water glass. "Get it out of your system. Throw it at me and be done with it."

Ashley does not abide the rules. She tugs her hand from his, splashing a bit of water on his hands, and drinks all the sparkling water in one go.

"This was a great idea," she says. "I do love lobster."

ashley 3 (actually 2)

When pressed, Ashley might say that the happiest high of her relationship with Declan Lynch had not been the extravagent peacocking in the form of expensive dinners and pretty trinkets for her wrists and nceck. The happiest high is a specific slice of a moment, golden hour or burgeoning dawn she can't remember, with Declan's arm draped casually along her back, hand tucked in a possessive laziness at her waist. Ashley, when pressed, can't recall much more detail than that. Nothing about what they might have been wearing or why or even really where they were. There had been a snapshot of a moment where she remembered being at his side and getting a glimpse of something more than had been previously promised.

The problem with this high is that is likely had never happened. The details too fuzzy, the things coming to light too on point. It could have been a fabrication of a story of a memory of an old ad seen once in passing along the winding highway leading toward a city. Ashley's never followed any of the highways into the glitz and glamor for fear of where they might lead but she did exactly once and it led her here.

Ashley can't believe what she's seeing so she calls him. He says her name neutrally when he answers. Short and perfunctory like a bad stage read.

"You've canceled on my every night this week. You know what? No. No, I don't want to hear anymore of your excuses."

Declan is silent on the other end. Stewing, no doubt. Jaw tight and the muscles along it clenching down until he can't speak or move. It's a look she's seen on him before, one very common in the Declan facial expression lexicon, one she can hear without sight. The line dies and so the image of Declan with it. Ashley gathers herself for another night spent much the same as the others. All around her are the boxes organized prettily stacked against the walls, waiting for something that won't ever come. Ashley can relate to that.

In some ways, the city hasn't been anything like her expectations at all. In others, she feels like she should've known so much better. It would be a very simple thing to to resent the place and yet Ashley can't quite muster up the courage.

She had taken all of her savings to follow Declan out here, a choice that at the time had seemed lifted from one of those romantic movies he dutifully watched with her some nights. Maybe it came from the same place in her mind as her happiest moments with him. That same script of lies. Ashley wishes she could go back and grab her younger self, dig her fingers into her pliable shoulders, and shake and shake and shake. She could imagine it, going back and trying to talk sense into her. She knows she would never listen.

Declan is barely worth it. There's a certain thread of surprsie at how easily Ashley is able to find the conclusion and hold it as her own but the more she repeats it in her head - barely worth it Declan is barely worth it Declan is barely worth it Declan is Declan is Declan Declan Declan - the easier it is to come to terms with.

Ashley wakes up the next morning to a blurb of a text. The preview reads everything she needs to know.

Ashley - it has been a pleasure knowing you but I'm afraid it's over. Kindly

She isn't sure if this is the world's most droll suicide note or if she should be expecting a severence package in three to five business days. Her minds wander the dark places where this is in fact a suicide letter. The notifications. The funeral. The explanations she would have to give to his family. Oh, we broke up, actually. I was going to propose. It wasn't serious. He was my everything. Are you his mother? I don't think we've ever met.

It takes Ashley until the end of the evening to finally read the message in its entirety. In the time between seeing it and reading the whole thing she managed to unpack her entire apartment, find her way to a cheap take out place only a couple blocks away, and fight with the porter about losing her key. She entertains scenarios about what the text could be. The truth is, as is often the case, a disappointment.

Ashley - it has been a pleasure knowing you but I'm afraid it's over. Kindly remove me from your contacts and refrain from contacting me again. Warm regards - Declan L.

#kk writing #the wip fridge #do i have to tag this as a long post even if its under a read more #meh. whatever

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ao3feed-pynch · 3 months

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#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish'#pynch #TRC #spoilers

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ritualoftheancients · 4 months

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Ritual of the Ancients Chapter 6: Blood Memories

by Roan Rosser

This is a chapter of a complete vampire novel with a trans-masc main character and a gay romance subplot. New Chapters are posted every Sunday. If you like the novel and want to support the author, ebook and paperback copies can be purchased here.

~~~~~

I rode in the passenger seat of a car as a rainy evening flashed by the windows. I didn’t recognize the driver or the streets. It wasn’t Portland, that much I was sure of, since the look of the trees were unfamiliar to me. The woman in the driver’s seat wore a blue suit that emphasized the red of her hair, which was pulled back into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. She flashed me a smile and opened her mouth to talk, when the crackly squawk of a radio cut her off.

“10-13, 10-13. Active shooter at the Petunia Apartments. Subject is a white male. Armed with a handgun. Multiple shots fired.”

I reached out to pick up the handset, only my skin was a warm brown color, much different than my cooler pale skin, and hairier. The kind of hair that I hoped to grow on T. I wanted to stop and examine it, but the dream pulled me along. This was nothing like my usual dreams. Everything felt so grounded and real, more like a vivid memory than anything else.

“Officers Prashad and Kelly responding,” I heard myself say into the handset.

Prashad? Who was that? While I struggled to make sense of what was going on, Officer Kelly—now that I looked closer I confirmed that the blue suit was, in fact, a police officer’s uniform complete with name badge—turned on the car and sirens. It wasn’t a long drive. They talked some, but I was too disoriented to catch much beyond that Officer Kelly’s first name was Andre.

We pulled up to a cluster of police cars with flashing lights parked in front a two-story apartment building—the kind with open-air walkways that looked out over the parking lot. I parked near the rest and got out of the car, drawing my gun. A growing knot of dread was forming in my gut. I strained to stop myself from getting out of the car, but I had no control of my body in the dream.

I caught sight of my face in the side view mirror as I got out, and was shocked to recognize it as Jack’s. Straining to stop myself, I drew my gun, crouch-walking across the pavement with the gun pointed at the ground to join Andre, along with a six other cops crouched behind the stairwell.

A Sargent was in the middle of a debrief of the situation. He nodded curtly to Kelly and me as we arrived, but didn’t interrupt his speech.

“The suspect has barricaded himself in one of the second-floor apartments with two hostages: his kid and ex-wife. We don’t know if they are still alive. You two,” he bobbed his head toward us, “head around the back and keep watch, make sure he doesn’t find another way out.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. We took off at a jog, guns held low, heading around the corner. The side of the building was in shadow, but enough light came from the corner streetlight that we didn’t need our flashlights. Neat squares of light shone into the alley behind the building from the apartments.

Andre rounded the corner first. There was the short crack of a gunshot and he fell back into view, his face covered in blood that poured from a jagged hole in his forehead. I screamed and lunged to catch him before he hit the ground. Andre’s brown eyes were wide in death and stared up past my face vacantly.

Footsteps thudded on pavement, and I looked up to see a man with a gun running away from us down the alley behind the apartments. I let Andre’s body fall and brought up my gun, blinking back tears. The man glanced over his shoulder. He pointed his gun back and fired off several rounds in a series of sharp cracks. One hit my body armor in the center, and the impact was enough to knock the breath out of me. The second shot went wide, pinging off the bricks next to my head. Shrapnel hit my cheeks and nose, drawing blood. I shot, but missed. My shot hit the bricks a few inches behind the running figure.

The man got off one more shot, and this one hit me in the lower neck, just missing the edge of the body armor. My world filled with pain. I tried to scream, but all that came out was a burble of blood. The taste of copper filled my mouth.

Someone pressed a thick cloth against my neck. I didn’t even know how I’d ended up lying on the pavement. Confused shouting echoed around me, but I couldn’t focus past the pain.

“You go after that bastard, I got this one!” a man yelled practically in my ear. Lower, the speaker said, “Hold on, Jack.”

I tried to respond, and blood burbled out of my lips rather than words. I tried to catch a glimpse of the man hovering over me, but my eyes refused to focus. The man was a dark halo framed by the light from the streetlamps.

“No, don’t speak. Hold on.” The pressure on my neck increased.

The world shrank and went white. My muscles began spasming and contracting, my fingers and toes curling in on themselves, tighter and tighter. I wanted to scream, but my mouth felt odd and I had no control.

Then it was gone. I opened my eyes and sat up. Everything felt oversized, and I was wrapped in a constricting swaddle of fabric. I shook myself loose from it and stood up an all fours. Blinking, I saw my front legs that were now covered in brown and black fur and ended in paws. I looked down the length of myself to see more fur and a dog-like body that ended in a tail. I knew I should be freaking out, but it felt natural. Right.

The cop who’d been tending my wound screamed, backing away from me with wide eyes.

***

I woke up with a gasp to someone shaking my shoulder. The dream world overlapped with the real world for a moment as I looked up at Jack leaning over me. Seeing me open my eyes, Jack straightened up.

“Sun’s set, it’s safe for you to get up now. I dug up some of the supplies we keep for visiting vampires.” Jack held up a red squeeze bottle and shook it. “Sorry I couldn’t get this for you last night. It took me a while to deal with Stacy, and then, since you aren’t officially here as a vampire, I had to come up with an excuse to get into the blood stock.”

I sat up, and as I did so I realized that I still had the amulet clutched in one hand. I squeezed my fist around it, hoping Jack hadn’t spotted it. The movement made my breasts rub the blanket. I flushed, pulling the blanket up with one hand, crossing both arms across my chest and hunching my shoulders. My binder and jacket were folded over my shoes under the bed; I’d taken them off last night before laying down.

“So that’s my breakfast?” I went to point, realized that to do that I’d have to drop the blanket, instead nodding my head at the bottle in Jack’s hand.

“Yeah, I warmed it up for you, but I know from my coworker’s complaints when he has to drink this stuff that it’s not as good as fresh.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

Jack sat down on the cot across from me and went to hand it to me, but hesitated, glancing at my arms and hunched shoulders. He changed his movement and set the bottle on the rickety side table instead.

“Thanks.”

Jack stood and paused. “What’s that?” His eyes fixed on my hand.

I tried to cover my wince and glanced down. The amulet wasn’t that big, but I had small hands, and part of it was visible between my fingers. The gold must have glinted in the overhead lights and drawn Jack’s attention.

“Nothing. A good luck charm.” Jack looked intrigued. I needed to change the subject before he could ask anything else. “Who’s Andre?” I blurted in a panic, saying the first thing that came to mind.

The blood drained from Jack’s face and his eyes went white at the edges. His voice came out in a whisper. “Why do you ask?”

I got the distinct feeling I’d messed up big time. I gulped. What could I say? That I’d heard it in a dream that felt too real? No, I’d sound crazy. “I just heard it around. Maybe Dave said it?”

Jack’s expression went hard and he crossed his arms. “Don’t lie to me, Everett. Where. Did. You. Hear. That. Name?”

“It’s going to sound crazy…” I sputtered, but Jack just kept glaring at me. I hugged my arms tighter to my chest and bowed my head so I wouldn’t have to see Jack’s face. “I had a dream—well, it felt more real than that. More like reliving a memory that you and Andre were shot, and then you turned into a jackal.”

There was a heavy thud. I glanced back up to see that Jack had fallen heavily onto other cot. His face had gone even paler.

“That wasn’t a dream, Everett.” Jack wiped at his face and I realized he was crying, had begun crying silently at some point. “I don’t know how you saw that, but that was my last night as an officer, and my first night as a shapeshifter.”

“What?” I looked up and sat forward, leaning towards Jack. “But you weren’t bitten.”

“Shapeshifters are born, not made. But…” Jack held up one hand, wiping his face again with the other. “I can’t—” His voice cracked and he gulped. “I can’t talk about this right now. I’ll give you the whole supernatural rundown later, okay?”

I sat back and nodded. I wanted to comfort Jack, but I didn’t know what to say. I settled for saying, “I’m sorry to bring up painful memories like that. I thought it was just a dream.”

“Not your fault.” Jack stood, rubbing his palms on his jeans. “Meet me back in the waiting room after you finish your breakfast.”

After Jack left, I picked up the still-warm red bottle. I squeezed a drop onto my tongue and gagged at the taste. It was nothing like the delicious liquid that had come from Jack and the other man. I choked down another swallow, wondering if it was the anti-coagulant that they added that made it taste like ass. Though I had to admit, it slaked my thirst much better than the Gatorade had, and as a bonus settled my rumbling stomach.

Once the bottle was empty, I set it on the nightstand and finished getting dressed. I wiggled into my binder and adjusted it until everything was flat and settled, then pulled the T-shirt that Jack had brought me over it. I decided to just keep the jacket over my arm. Not only was the jacket bloodstained, I hadn’t felt the weather since I’d become a vampire. After making sure the amulet was tucked securely in the pocket of my jeans, I went out to greet the night.

The hallway was empty. I tried the door at the end of the hall, but it was locked, so I exited back into the waiting room. The smell of fresh coffee hit me as I entered. It smelled as good as it always had, which I was thankful for. Now that my diet was primarily blood, I wondered what things I used to love that I’d no longer like. This room was empty too, so I decided to help myself to a cup to wash out the taste of the gross stored blood.

I usually drowned my coffee in half-and-half—my former best friend Brooke had used to joke that I drank coffee-flavored milk—but this time I took a sip of it first; no reason to risk making myself sick. Besides, my taste buds had been strange since I’d become a vampire; the coffee wasn’t as bitter as I remembered. In fact, I almost enjoyed it. That lukewarm blood would have tasted much better if mixed with coffee. I’d have to try that next time.

Sipping from my cup of black coffee, I left the lobby and went through the swinging doors to the reception desk. Dave sat behind the desk, talking to someone on his headset. Jack stood on this side of the counter, doing something on his phone. He waved me over.

“What’s the plan tonight?” I asked as I joined him. Jack looked much better; only a slight redness around his eyes betrayed his earlier tears. I wanted to say more, but not in front of Dave.

Dave glanced up at hearing me and grimaced but didn’t stop his conversation with the person on the phone.

“I’m waiting to find out.” Jack sighed and put his phone away.

“Did you hear anything yet, about…” I trailed off, glancing at Dave. I wasn’t sure how much Jack trusted him, since he’d wanted to lie about me being a vampire.

Jack nodded his head toward the waiting room, and we headed that way together. As we went through the swinging door, a muscular, brown-haired woman entered from the other direction carrying a file folder.

“Oh, hey Jack,” she said with a wave.

“Hi, Zoe.” Jack smiled at her.

“Who’s this?” Zoe stopped in front of us and held out a hand to me. “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Zoe.”

“I’m Everett.” I smiled at her as I shook her hand with the hand not holding the coffee cup. As I leaned close to her, I caught a musky scent that I associated with dogs.

“Zoe is a werewolf,” Jack said to me. He then turned to Zoe and nodded to the file. “Catch a case this early in the night?”

“Naw, just checking up on the fox you brought in yesterday. She just told me a very interesting story about you having a fanged, red-eyed boy in the car with you. I assume that would be Everett here?”

Jack sighed. “Yeah.”

“Yet you told Stacy he was a werewolf, not a vampire.” Zoe crossed her arms and regarded Jack. Although she didn’t look angry, merely amused.

“It’s a long story, for another night,” Jack said with a blush, and steered us towards the couch.

“I’ll hold you to that, Jack.” Zoe poured herself a cup of coffee. Over her shoulder she said, “Over drinks. Your treat.”

“Of course.” Jack waved at her as she left with her coffee. We sat on the couch together.

“We can talk freer now,” Jack said in a low voice. “Normally Dave could hear us in here, but not while he’s on the phone.”

I nodded my understanding and sat down next to him, twisting my body to the side and pulling one knee up. “Shapeshifter?” I guessed. I took a sip of coffee.

“No, but…” Jack shrugged. “Everyone who works here is a supernatural of some sort, though. Dave’s a mage. He likes to eavesdrop with listening spells. He’s a bit of a gossip.”

I hid my grin with my coffee cup and took another sip. People were people, supernatural or no. “So what are we waiting for?”

“Since I’m not officially part of the police department anymore, I can’t make an official request.” He nodded his head toward the reception room. “However, PCA has some contacts in the station that we can use to get information about supernaturals that are in trouble with human law. You heard me on the phone last night, asking them to put out feelers on your case.”

I nodded, then frowned. “But you were an officer. Can’t you ask one of your cop buddies for info?”

“No.” Jack sighed. “Officially, I died that night you saw in your dream. If my first change had happened somewhere less…” He paused, eyes flicking about as he searched for a word. “Public, with fewer witnesses, yes, I could have gone back to work the next day like nothing had happened.”

I felt like a peeping tom, despite the fact that I’d had no control over the dream. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It certainly wasn’t your fault. I didn’t know vampires could pick up memories from the blood, or I would have warned you. Anyway, Dave emailed me that he got back answers, but said he’d only tell me in person. Like I said, he loves gossip and drama. So, we wait.”

“What if we get called out on a job again tonight?” I said, and Jack shot me an amused look. “I mean you,” I hastily amended, face heating up. I took a sip of coffee to cover my blush.

“No worries, I took today off as a personal day. No calls. Today I’m one-hundred percent committed to helping you get to the bottom of your mystery.”

We had been speaking in low tones already, but I lowered my voice to a whisper so that Jack had to lean closer to hear me. “Why don’t you want them to know I’m a vampire?”

“I told you—”

“I know what you told me, but that isn’t the whole truth, is it?” I caught Jack’s gaze and held it.

Jack frowned and sat back against the couch, leaning his head back and running both hands through his hair, and then down his face. He leaned forward again and clasped his hands on his knees, talking without looking at me.

“I don’t know, just, I’m new. That incident you saw only happened a year ago. But the vampires put me on edge, they don’t tell me everything.” Jack’s frown deepened. “And if your death is connected to anything nefarious, I want to make sure you’re safe.” Jack blushed at those last words.

The sudden rush of blood drew my attention to a pulsing vein on Jack’s neck. I felt my fangs descend and press against my lips, so I sipped at my coffee until they withdrew back into wherever they came from. I wondered if my eyes betrayed me too. Hadn’t Emily said they scared her? I really needed to find a mirror one of these times and see what I looked like with fangs out.

Dave popped his head through the swinging door. “I’m off the phone, Jack.” He disappeared again.

Jack levered himself up and then offered me a hand. “Let’s go get some answers.”

#trans author #original fiction #trans masc #urban fantasy #ftm #transgender fiction #vampire novel

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