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rainbowfic2012-02-27 10:14 pm
walkwithheroes) wrote in rainbowfic2012-02-27 10:14 pm
Entry tags:
Surely Someday: Faded Blue, Tardis Blue
Name: Nichole
Story: Surely Someday
Piece Title: For the Restless: Part One
Colors: Faded Blue: 5. The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine; Tardis Blue: 9. Maybe that's what the Devil is in the end: an idea.
Supplies and Materials: none
Word Count: 2,640
Rating: PG
Warnings: people testing just how immortal Maggie is thru violence. (Brief, could be skipped)
Summary: House meeting! The guy that saved Simon is a vampire. And, he's creepy toward Maggie.
Story 02. For the Restless
Wales, 1822
Richard Whitman had been keeping a detailed record of his charge for the last eighteen years.
He had found that she – Magdalena – did not need to eat or sleep. He had tried to feed her several meals, but she refused them all. Richard supposed it made sense, or how else would she have survived for a hundred years in her stone prison? Richard had tried to get Magdalena to sleep, but she told him she didn’t need it. He had tried so many foods in hopes of tempting her, but she would have none of them.
She seemed to survive off something other than food and drink. Richard noticed that she grew stronger when he was with her. He would leave her for days at a time, and when he returned she was always weaker than she had been before. He couldn’t be completely sure, but Richard believed that somehow Magdalena was staying alive through him.
She didn’t age or have a scent either. It made him uneasy. Richard often wondered if Magdalena was an angel from Heaven or a demon from Hell. She seemed to know so much, and there was something dangerous in her eyes. Richard was sure she could see into his soul. Most of what she did and said was nonsensical mutters of a mad woman. But, there were moments when she would say things – things no one else could know. She asked him about childhood friends. She told him not to fear death.
And her eyes . . . her eyes seemed to see into him. There was something stirring behind her dark orbs. Richard tried to question her; he brought up things from the Bible. Yet, she seemed to know none of it. She simply giggled and told him he was funny. That chilled him more than anything; her mockery of the Holy Book.
Richard supposed that it was for all those reasons that he began testing Magdalena. To see if his ideas were correct; to see if she was an angel or a demon.
Oct, 1818
Magdalena does not seem to know where or when she is. She does not answer when I speak. It is as if she is in another world, or perhaps another time.
Nov, 1818
I have taken a hunting knife and sliced the palm of her right hand. Just as soon as the skin was cut, it mended itself together again, and no scar remained. We have gone farther in our experiment. I have pierced her heart with my sword. The sword did make a sickening sound as it went into Magdalena’s heart, but she did not scream. However, she was able to pull the sword from her chest – again, no scar remains. There was blood on my sword, but no blood on her dress. Indeed, she was well enough to strike back at me, clawing my face with her delicate hands.
Dec, 1818
I have shot Magdalena in the head. I do not know what happened. I can barely write this, as it seems a dream. The bullet went through Magdalena’s skull, landing with a thud on the floor behind her. Her wound, as with her other wounds, healed a moment later. She did not even drop to the floor though she did scream. Magdalena, it would seem, is truly an immortal.
2012:
He's already dead.
The sentence hung in the air for several moments, an uneasy silence following. Simon forced himself from the sofa, but found himself unable to move forward. Andrews stood frozen in place, anxiety watching Maggie and James Warren. Maggie and James Warren continued to stare at one another; the rest of the world seemed to have melted away from them.
“I told you to stay inside.” Maggie stated softly, her voice shaky. “I told you.”
Never taking his eyes off her, James Warren moved toward Maggie. He moved slowly, as if he were approaching a living dream. “I forgot, love. I,” he laughed softly to himself. “I was only five when we met. But I remembered you.” Gently he wrapped a hand around Maggie’s wrist and pulled her to him. Pulling her close, he sighed dreamily. “I dream of you.”
Politely, Maggie pushed herself away from him. She smiled at him, a cheerful and wry sort of smile, which on anyone else would have been flirtatious. “The dead do not dream.”
“I do.”
“Yes!” Simon’s voice broke out across the parlor. “We all dreamed a dream,” awkwardly – he could still feel the pain from his beating – Simon positioned himself next to Maggie and James Warren. “Mr. Warren,”
“Just Warren,” Warren corrected, never taking his eyes from Maggie’s.
“Whatever.” Forcefully, Simon pulled Maggie from the dead man’s grip and pushed her to a still stunned Andrews. “You’re being weird. Stalker creepy, even.”
Putting a hand over his chest in mock horror, Warren grinned. “I was just saying hello to an old friend. Nothing wrong with that, is there? You’re being awfully impolite to the man that saved your life.”
“Saved? I was just getting ready to kick some ass when you showed up and-”
“And we should go to the kitchen. House meeting.” Andrews blurted out. With a tug he began dragging Maggie – who was still staring at Warren – toward the kitchen. “Simon! You, uh . . . Warren, was it? You stay there. In the parlor. Don’t touch anything.”
Simon lowered himself into one of the wooden chairs with a small hiss of pain. Jesus, how hard had those freaks kicked him? He kept his eyes on the doorway, watching Warren flip through one of his car magazines. The rest of his senses – except smell – were following Maggie as she fumbled around the kitchen, looking for the first aid kit.
“He saved you. He’s dead.” Andrews stated slowly figuring everything out in his head. “Maggie knew him.”
“We only met once.” Maggie clarified, setting the first aid kit onto the table. “When he was five,” She shook her head. “I told him not to go out and now he’s a vampire.”
“Vampires are real?” Simon leaned back from Maggie, not wanting to feel the sting of the anti-infection cream that she applied to his wounds.
Giving Simon a sideways glance, Andrews shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a werewolf. Is it really so hard to believe vampires are real?”
Throwing up his arms in defeat – and biting back the pain it caused – Simon let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay! Vampires are real. One saved my life tonight. Warren, Vampire Guy, is also creepily into Maggie. So, should we offer him some money and make him leave or. . .”
“Or?” Andrews peeked around the corner to watch Warren reading a magazine. “Or we stake him.”
“Yes!” Simon gave Andrews thumbs up. “Let’s do that.” He paused for a beat. “And then wait for the other vampires to come kill us.”
Nodding firmly, Maggie tucked away her first-aid instruments. “We shouldn’t stake him. Simon’s right. We should let him sleep here tonight and he can go on his way tomorrow.”
“Maggie.”
“Douglas.”
“Simon.” Simon rolled his eyes. “Let’s look at it this way: we shouldn’t kill him, because his friends could come after us. We shouldn’t let him stay, because he’s all creepy stalker with Maggie. So, maybe we should ask him to leave?”
“But he saved you.” Maggie protested.
“He saved Simon, so you want him to stay?” Andrews questioned, feeling the heat rising inside him. He didn’t know why, but he felt himself growing angry – jealous, maybe – of the way Maggie was acting about this Warren fellow. “No. I’m sorry, but he cannot stay here. He’s a killer, Maggie. A vampire.”
Running a hand through his hair, Simon cleared his throat. “He saved me. I think the guys who attacked me where vampires. Warren may have risked a lot to help me. Regardless of why he did it, he did it. If we send him out there tonight he’ll probably be killed. I don’t want any more blood on my hands, do you, Andrews?”
“No.” A pause. “He can stay the night. Let him sleep on the sofa. He can leave tomorrow morning, sunshine burn or no. Meanwhile, the three of us stay in my room tonight. No one will be killed today.”
A grin spread across Maggie’s face. “Good news, Warren! You get to stay!”
“Already heard, thanks,” Warren called back, a smile in his voice.
*
The shadows of the car lights danced along the walls of the parlor; Warren watched them mindlessly. His thoughts were on the mysterious woman upstairs. Even now he could hear her moving around Andrews’ bedroom. He could hear the even breathing of the sleeping men, but she – Maggie – was still awake.
He had to figure out a way to stay in the house. She was going to save him. He had thought that for the last two years, and it was finally happening.
Finally.
Up above him, Maggie stopped moving. Her breathing remained the same, which meant she hadn’t fallen asleep. Warren spent the rest of the night listening to Maggie, quietly waiting for her to fall asleep. She never did.
*
Andrews awoke to the smell of sizzling bacon and eggs. The sun was shining through his window, causing a slight pattern to play along the wooden floors. Rolling over, Andrews cranked his neck to look up at his bed. He had given his bed up to Simon the night before, but now it was empty; the sheets made up and a mint of his pillow: Maggie and Simon’s idea of a joke. The smell of food reassured Andrews that Simon and Maggie were downstairs. He highly doubted a vampire would stop to make breakfast before killing people.
“Simon!”
There was a brief pause, a moment when Andrews felt a slight terror rising inside him, before;
“What?” Simon’s voice called up the stairs, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
Feeling relief washing over him, Andrews sighed. “Nothing! I’ll be down shortly!”
Entering the kitchen, Andrews found Simon eating breakfast at the table. Simon’s face had a bandage over one of his eyes, and there were still a few fresh cuts and bruises on his face. Despite his obvious injuries, Simon was still dressed in his blue work overalls. Maggie was at the stove, carefully moving eggs from the frying pan and onto a plate. She looked perfectly at peace, even if she looked out of place in her in her long lacy pink dress. Andrews noted it was one that he had recently bought her; a long sleeved dress from the 1750s; it smelt faintly of perfume and moth balls. The vampire – Warren – was nowhere to be found.
Settling down into his usual seat, the one closest to the hall, Andrews grabbed a piece of toast from Simon’s plate. “You aren’t going to work, Simon. You’re calling in sick today.”
“We need the money.”
“You need to heal properly.” Andrews stated firmly. “Money comes after.”
“Not if Maggie keeps cooking for six instead of two,” Simon countered. Feeling smug he took a large bite of a piece of toast. The crunch was overly loud to his ears. “Damn.” Rubbing his left ear, Simon gave Andrews a pointed look. “I’ll stay home, because I feel like it.”
Placing the plate of fluffy eggs in front of Andrews, Maggie nodded. “Yes, because he wants to.” Sharing a small smile with Simon, Maggie slipped into her usual seat. “We can watch videos and you can eat junk food and do lots of fun things.”
“I’m not skipping school.” Simon playfully ruffled Maggie’s soft hair. “I’m settling down on the sofa and watching crappy daytime television.”
“About the vampire-”
“James.” Maggie corrected.
“No, Warren. He said to call him Warren.” Simon said.
“It doesn’t matter.” Andrews stated with a roll of his blue eyes. “Is he gone?” Trying to look relaxed, he took a small sip of his tea. He noticed Simon and Maggie exchange a look. Looking like two children sharing a secret, he was sure they were hiding something. “Well? Did he leave?”
Simon glanced at Maggie before speaking. “He wasn’t here when we came downstairs.”
“Yes,” Maggie nodded in agreement. “He was gone when we came down a hour ago. He must have left last night.” Nervously she glanced at the clock on the stove. “You’ll be late if you don’t get going, Douglas.”
Not fully believing them, but knowing that he would be late otherwise, Andrews decided not to push the issue. “I’ll be home by six-thirty. I’ll bring pizza tonight for us, so don’t cook, Maggie.” With a pointed look, he stood from his chair. “Don’t move around too much, Simon. The Wolf will heal you quickly, but if you play around today, it’ll take longer than forty-eight hours to heal.”
Smirking, Simon gave Andrews a little salute. “Yes, Dad. We’ll be good, Dad.”
With a scowl Andrews head toward the front door. “Don’t call me that.”
Simon held Maggie’s right hand when she covered her mouth to hold back a scream. He still wasn’t used to seeing her act this way whenever a door was opened. Her body would grow stiff, her eyes would get a faraway look, and she always – always – had to muffle a scream. It was disturbing to her Maggie that way, and what was worse was that Andrews told him her reactions were much more severe when actual humans were in front of her.
They waited several moments – waited until Maggie could move again..
“We lied to Douglas.” Maggie whispered in amazement. “Lied to Douglas,” a little giggle escaped her lips. “I’ve never lied to him before.”
“You get used to it.” Simon assured her.
Lying was the easy part. Now came the hard bit. Gently, he cupped her chin into his hand, and turned her face toward him. He stared into her eyes, those dark and beautiful eyes that still scared the Wolf within him.
“Warren can sleep in your attic until noon, and he can take a shower. I’ll give him money for a taxi. Then he has to leave. If he’s still here at six-thirty, Andrews will fuck us up.” A small smile formed on his lips. “I don’t want us to get fucked up by Andrews, do you?”
Maggie shook her head slowly, moving away from Simon’s hand. “No. Still, I think James Warren could use friends. He could help you understand the werewolf stuff and maybe he could –“
“He could, but that doesn’t mean he would. He saved me, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’ll probably just leave. Unless he wants to go all creepy on you again.”
“Simon-”
“Could I cut-in to this private conversation?” Warren said from the doorway.
They turned to look at the vampire. He was leaning against the door-jamb, his black clothing rumpled from sleeping on the attic floor. His dark hair was sticking out at all ends, making him look much more human than he had the night before. His eyes were smiling, and a playful grin was on his lips.
“I made breakfast.” Maggie smiled, but it wasn’t the flirty smile from the night before. It was more cautious. “I could make something for you. If you eat.”
“Do you eat?” Simon questioned warily. “Food or something.”
Slipping into Andrews seat Warren grinned at Simon and Maggie. “I’d love some eggs and toast.” Still smiling, he took a sip of the tea Andrews had left. “Lovely tea.”
Simon and Maggie exchanged a look, before they went back to watching Warren eat and drink Andrews’ breakfast. Neither were quite sure what to do or say to Warren. He was certainly making himself at home, but that didn’t mean he was there to help Simon or Maggie.
Story: Surely Someday
Piece Title: For the Restless: Part One
Colors: Faded Blue: 5. The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine; Tardis Blue: 9. Maybe that's what the Devil is in the end: an idea.
Supplies and Materials: none
Word Count: 2,640
Rating: PG
Warnings: people testing just how immortal Maggie is thru violence. (Brief, could be skipped)
Summary: House meeting! The guy that saved Simon is a vampire. And, he's creepy toward Maggie.
Story 02. For the Restless
Wales, 1822
Richard Whitman had been keeping a detailed record of his charge for the last eighteen years.
He had found that she – Magdalena – did not need to eat or sleep. He had tried to feed her several meals, but she refused them all. Richard supposed it made sense, or how else would she have survived for a hundred years in her stone prison? Richard had tried to get Magdalena to sleep, but she told him she didn’t need it. He had tried so many foods in hopes of tempting her, but she would have none of them.
She seemed to survive off something other than food and drink. Richard noticed that she grew stronger when he was with her. He would leave her for days at a time, and when he returned she was always weaker than she had been before. He couldn’t be completely sure, but Richard believed that somehow Magdalena was staying alive through him.
She didn’t age or have a scent either. It made him uneasy. Richard often wondered if Magdalena was an angel from Heaven or a demon from Hell. She seemed to know so much, and there was something dangerous in her eyes. Richard was sure she could see into his soul. Most of what she did and said was nonsensical mutters of a mad woman. But, there were moments when she would say things – things no one else could know. She asked him about childhood friends. She told him not to fear death.
And her eyes . . . her eyes seemed to see into him. There was something stirring behind her dark orbs. Richard tried to question her; he brought up things from the Bible. Yet, she seemed to know none of it. She simply giggled and told him he was funny. That chilled him more than anything; her mockery of the Holy Book.
Richard supposed that it was for all those reasons that he began testing Magdalena. To see if his ideas were correct; to see if she was an angel or a demon.
Oct, 1818
Magdalena does not seem to know where or when she is. She does not answer when I speak. It is as if she is in another world, or perhaps another time.
Nov, 1818
I have taken a hunting knife and sliced the palm of her right hand. Just as soon as the skin was cut, it mended itself together again, and no scar remained. We have gone farther in our experiment. I have pierced her heart with my sword. The sword did make a sickening sound as it went into Magdalena’s heart, but she did not scream. However, she was able to pull the sword from her chest – again, no scar remains. There was blood on my sword, but no blood on her dress. Indeed, she was well enough to strike back at me, clawing my face with her delicate hands.
Dec, 1818
I have shot Magdalena in the head. I do not know what happened. I can barely write this, as it seems a dream. The bullet went through Magdalena’s skull, landing with a thud on the floor behind her. Her wound, as with her other wounds, healed a moment later. She did not even drop to the floor though she did scream. Magdalena, it would seem, is truly an immortal.
2012:
He's already dead.
The sentence hung in the air for several moments, an uneasy silence following. Simon forced himself from the sofa, but found himself unable to move forward. Andrews stood frozen in place, anxiety watching Maggie and James Warren. Maggie and James Warren continued to stare at one another; the rest of the world seemed to have melted away from them.
“I told you to stay inside.” Maggie stated softly, her voice shaky. “I told you.”
Never taking his eyes off her, James Warren moved toward Maggie. He moved slowly, as if he were approaching a living dream. “I forgot, love. I,” he laughed softly to himself. “I was only five when we met. But I remembered you.” Gently he wrapped a hand around Maggie’s wrist and pulled her to him. Pulling her close, he sighed dreamily. “I dream of you.”
Politely, Maggie pushed herself away from him. She smiled at him, a cheerful and wry sort of smile, which on anyone else would have been flirtatious. “The dead do not dream.”
“I do.”
“Yes!” Simon’s voice broke out across the parlor. “We all dreamed a dream,” awkwardly – he could still feel the pain from his beating – Simon positioned himself next to Maggie and James Warren. “Mr. Warren,”
“Just Warren,” Warren corrected, never taking his eyes from Maggie’s.
“Whatever.” Forcefully, Simon pulled Maggie from the dead man’s grip and pushed her to a still stunned Andrews. “You’re being weird. Stalker creepy, even.”
Putting a hand over his chest in mock horror, Warren grinned. “I was just saying hello to an old friend. Nothing wrong with that, is there? You’re being awfully impolite to the man that saved your life.”
“Saved? I was just getting ready to kick some ass when you showed up and-”
“And we should go to the kitchen. House meeting.” Andrews blurted out. With a tug he began dragging Maggie – who was still staring at Warren – toward the kitchen. “Simon! You, uh . . . Warren, was it? You stay there. In the parlor. Don’t touch anything.”
Simon lowered himself into one of the wooden chairs with a small hiss of pain. Jesus, how hard had those freaks kicked him? He kept his eyes on the doorway, watching Warren flip through one of his car magazines. The rest of his senses – except smell – were following Maggie as she fumbled around the kitchen, looking for the first aid kit.
“He saved you. He’s dead.” Andrews stated slowly figuring everything out in his head. “Maggie knew him.”
“We only met once.” Maggie clarified, setting the first aid kit onto the table. “When he was five,” She shook her head. “I told him not to go out and now he’s a vampire.”
“Vampires are real?” Simon leaned back from Maggie, not wanting to feel the sting of the anti-infection cream that she applied to his wounds.
Giving Simon a sideways glance, Andrews shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a werewolf. Is it really so hard to believe vampires are real?”
Throwing up his arms in defeat – and biting back the pain it caused – Simon let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay! Vampires are real. One saved my life tonight. Warren, Vampire Guy, is also creepily into Maggie. So, should we offer him some money and make him leave or. . .”
“Or?” Andrews peeked around the corner to watch Warren reading a magazine. “Or we stake him.”
“Yes!” Simon gave Andrews thumbs up. “Let’s do that.” He paused for a beat. “And then wait for the other vampires to come kill us.”
Nodding firmly, Maggie tucked away her first-aid instruments. “We shouldn’t stake him. Simon’s right. We should let him sleep here tonight and he can go on his way tomorrow.”
“Maggie.”
“Douglas.”
“Simon.” Simon rolled his eyes. “Let’s look at it this way: we shouldn’t kill him, because his friends could come after us. We shouldn’t let him stay, because he’s all creepy stalker with Maggie. So, maybe we should ask him to leave?”
“But he saved you.” Maggie protested.
“He saved Simon, so you want him to stay?” Andrews questioned, feeling the heat rising inside him. He didn’t know why, but he felt himself growing angry – jealous, maybe – of the way Maggie was acting about this Warren fellow. “No. I’m sorry, but he cannot stay here. He’s a killer, Maggie. A vampire.”
Running a hand through his hair, Simon cleared his throat. “He saved me. I think the guys who attacked me where vampires. Warren may have risked a lot to help me. Regardless of why he did it, he did it. If we send him out there tonight he’ll probably be killed. I don’t want any more blood on my hands, do you, Andrews?”
“No.” A pause. “He can stay the night. Let him sleep on the sofa. He can leave tomorrow morning, sunshine burn or no. Meanwhile, the three of us stay in my room tonight. No one will be killed today.”
A grin spread across Maggie’s face. “Good news, Warren! You get to stay!”
“Already heard, thanks,” Warren called back, a smile in his voice.
*
The shadows of the car lights danced along the walls of the parlor; Warren watched them mindlessly. His thoughts were on the mysterious woman upstairs. Even now he could hear her moving around Andrews’ bedroom. He could hear the even breathing of the sleeping men, but she – Maggie – was still awake.
He had to figure out a way to stay in the house. She was going to save him. He had thought that for the last two years, and it was finally happening.
Finally.
Up above him, Maggie stopped moving. Her breathing remained the same, which meant she hadn’t fallen asleep. Warren spent the rest of the night listening to Maggie, quietly waiting for her to fall asleep. She never did.
*
Andrews awoke to the smell of sizzling bacon and eggs. The sun was shining through his window, causing a slight pattern to play along the wooden floors. Rolling over, Andrews cranked his neck to look up at his bed. He had given his bed up to Simon the night before, but now it was empty; the sheets made up and a mint of his pillow: Maggie and Simon’s idea of a joke. The smell of food reassured Andrews that Simon and Maggie were downstairs. He highly doubted a vampire would stop to make breakfast before killing people.
“Simon!”
There was a brief pause, a moment when Andrews felt a slight terror rising inside him, before;
“What?” Simon’s voice called up the stairs, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
Feeling relief washing over him, Andrews sighed. “Nothing! I’ll be down shortly!”
Entering the kitchen, Andrews found Simon eating breakfast at the table. Simon’s face had a bandage over one of his eyes, and there were still a few fresh cuts and bruises on his face. Despite his obvious injuries, Simon was still dressed in his blue work overalls. Maggie was at the stove, carefully moving eggs from the frying pan and onto a plate. She looked perfectly at peace, even if she looked out of place in her in her long lacy pink dress. Andrews noted it was one that he had recently bought her; a long sleeved dress from the 1750s; it smelt faintly of perfume and moth balls. The vampire – Warren – was nowhere to be found.
Settling down into his usual seat, the one closest to the hall, Andrews grabbed a piece of toast from Simon’s plate. “You aren’t going to work, Simon. You’re calling in sick today.”
“We need the money.”
“You need to heal properly.” Andrews stated firmly. “Money comes after.”
“Not if Maggie keeps cooking for six instead of two,” Simon countered. Feeling smug he took a large bite of a piece of toast. The crunch was overly loud to his ears. “Damn.” Rubbing his left ear, Simon gave Andrews a pointed look. “I’ll stay home, because I feel like it.”
Placing the plate of fluffy eggs in front of Andrews, Maggie nodded. “Yes, because he wants to.” Sharing a small smile with Simon, Maggie slipped into her usual seat. “We can watch videos and you can eat junk food and do lots of fun things.”
“I’m not skipping school.” Simon playfully ruffled Maggie’s soft hair. “I’m settling down on the sofa and watching crappy daytime television.”
“About the vampire-”
“James.” Maggie corrected.
“No, Warren. He said to call him Warren.” Simon said.
“It doesn’t matter.” Andrews stated with a roll of his blue eyes. “Is he gone?” Trying to look relaxed, he took a small sip of his tea. He noticed Simon and Maggie exchange a look. Looking like two children sharing a secret, he was sure they were hiding something. “Well? Did he leave?”
Simon glanced at Maggie before speaking. “He wasn’t here when we came downstairs.”
“Yes,” Maggie nodded in agreement. “He was gone when we came down a hour ago. He must have left last night.” Nervously she glanced at the clock on the stove. “You’ll be late if you don’t get going, Douglas.”
Not fully believing them, but knowing that he would be late otherwise, Andrews decided not to push the issue. “I’ll be home by six-thirty. I’ll bring pizza tonight for us, so don’t cook, Maggie.” With a pointed look, he stood from his chair. “Don’t move around too much, Simon. The Wolf will heal you quickly, but if you play around today, it’ll take longer than forty-eight hours to heal.”
Smirking, Simon gave Andrews a little salute. “Yes, Dad. We’ll be good, Dad.”
With a scowl Andrews head toward the front door. “Don’t call me that.”
Simon held Maggie’s right hand when she covered her mouth to hold back a scream. He still wasn’t used to seeing her act this way whenever a door was opened. Her body would grow stiff, her eyes would get a faraway look, and she always – always – had to muffle a scream. It was disturbing to her Maggie that way, and what was worse was that Andrews told him her reactions were much more severe when actual humans were in front of her.
They waited several moments – waited until Maggie could move again..
“We lied to Douglas.” Maggie whispered in amazement. “Lied to Douglas,” a little giggle escaped her lips. “I’ve never lied to him before.”
“You get used to it.” Simon assured her.
Lying was the easy part. Now came the hard bit. Gently, he cupped her chin into his hand, and turned her face toward him. He stared into her eyes, those dark and beautiful eyes that still scared the Wolf within him.
“Warren can sleep in your attic until noon, and he can take a shower. I’ll give him money for a taxi. Then he has to leave. If he’s still here at six-thirty, Andrews will fuck us up.” A small smile formed on his lips. “I don’t want us to get fucked up by Andrews, do you?”
Maggie shook her head slowly, moving away from Simon’s hand. “No. Still, I think James Warren could use friends. He could help you understand the werewolf stuff and maybe he could –“
“He could, but that doesn’t mean he would. He saved me, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’ll probably just leave. Unless he wants to go all creepy on you again.”
“Simon-”
“Could I cut-in to this private conversation?” Warren said from the doorway.
They turned to look at the vampire. He was leaning against the door-jamb, his black clothing rumpled from sleeping on the attic floor. His dark hair was sticking out at all ends, making him look much more human than he had the night before. His eyes were smiling, and a playful grin was on his lips.
“I made breakfast.” Maggie smiled, but it wasn’t the flirty smile from the night before. It was more cautious. “I could make something for you. If you eat.”
“Do you eat?” Simon questioned warily. “Food or something.”
Slipping into Andrews seat Warren grinned at Simon and Maggie. “I’d love some eggs and toast.” Still smiling, he took a sip of the tea Andrews had left. “Lovely tea.”
Simon and Maggie exchanged a look, before they went back to watching Warren eat and drink Andrews’ breakfast. Neither were quite sure what to do or say to Warren. He was certainly making himself at home, but that didn’t mean he was there to help Simon or Maggie.
no subject
no subject
And Jesus, but that first bit was creepy.
I was going for that. Thank you.
Richard, do not shoot girls in the head
It's all very scientific for Richard. And sadly, he wasn't always nice toward Maggie. He liked to try and figure out how she "worked".
Thank you so much for reading and commenting!
no subject
Although it does explain why Maggie is the only one among them who isn't concerned with getting killed by a vampire--she knew Warren before, but who knows what he's like now? (though I suspect he'll ingratiate his way into the household.)
no subject
she knew Warren before, but who knows what he's like now?
She met him once when he was five. Now, he's 100+. But, Maggie still sees him as a child she couldn't save.
I suspect he'll ingratiate his way into the household.
Well. . .getting a vampire out of the house is harder than Simon and Maggie thought.
Thank you for reading and commenting.
no subject
And then the story goes on to see her being so chill with the whole THERE IS NOW A VAMPIRE IN YOUR HOUSE situation.
“You’re a werewolf. Is it really so hard to believe vampires are real?” = LOL That, and the Dad crack.
no subject
I really wanted something unnerving about Maggie that would be very noticeable. Yes, everyone has commented that, when you look very closely and deeply, her eyes are odd. But someone not having a scent is more noticeable. Plus, it come back in Part 3 of this story in a big way.
And then the story goes on to see her being so chill with the whole THERE IS NOW A VAMPIRE IN YOUR HOUSE situation.
She thinks he's all right because he saved Simon. . .
:) Happy to read that you liked this bit. Stayed tuned for Part 2.
no subject
I hope things with Warren work out, since Maggie wants to save him and all.
no subject
Maggie really wants to save Warren. What will happen? Well, you'll have to wait and see.