Characters of a Minor Sort (jesschars) wrote in btvsal, @ 2009-11-17 22:55:00 |
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Current mood: | thoughtful |
Entry tags: | jamie thompson, place: la, ~luke jacobs |
Bad, Bad Luke!
Who: Luke and Jamie
Where: On Jamie's Way Home
When: Tuesday Night, Nov. 17
It was nearing the time when all good little girls and boys should be home, safely tucked into their beds. Innocence was fun and all, but things really started to get interesting once the freaks and dredges of humanity were all that remained. Luke walked the darkened streets of Los Angeles with an untouchable sort of aura. That whole stereotype about trench coats and dressing in black was annoyingly overrated. He was above that. In fact, he could have passed for any ordinary guy out for a midnight stroll after a night at the club. His black hair was stylishly mussed, his midnight blue shirt was untucked and unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled back, his jeans fit better than most even - that whole baggy look was useless. He could have been a model - actor, possibly - the sky was the limit in the City of Angels. But no, he was simply a hunter, looking for the right game. One he'd already found, but it was frustratingly off-limits. So when he caught the particularly potent scent of Slayer in the vicinity, Luke almost thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He'd dropped in on one of his connections at Wolfram & Hart to get the info on the Slayer situation in LA. Who knew how forthcoming she'd really been, but as far as Luke was concerned, it was hunting season. Just who was doing the hunting? That would remain to be seen.
Jamie was walking home from a club for the night. She knew that, technically, she shouldn't be out this late, alone, walking to her home. She wasn't supposed to be out this late at all. It wasn't like she was allowed to patrol yet. She had only barely started training. She had slipped out of her house so that she could go out to a club, and had ended up staying out later than she had intended to. So, now she needed to get home and sneak back inside. Of course, she had the feeling that someone was nearby. She just didn't know how to interpret those feelings yet. For all she knew, it was a homeless guy that happened to be a werewolf or something. As far as she could tell in this city, all werewolves were good. Still, she sped up her walking just a little bit.
Luke was listening to the sound of her footsteps, the way they sped up a little - it was a telltale sign of anxiety. Curiouser and curiouser.... He rounded the block and saw her about ten meters ahead of him, hurrying on her way. No...he wasn't wrong. He could sense it in her, but she didn't carry herself like any of the Slayers he'd ever encountered. Untrained then? Or horribly efficient at ruse. He was willing to wager it wasn't the latter. Silently, he crossed the street and even though he called out to her, he kept a "safe" distance so as not to appear too threatening. "Miss? I think you dropped this...."
Jamie turned to look at the guy who had spoken to her. A little bit older than her, but definitely cute. Sure, she knew that she shouldn't trust people that she had just met on the street or anything, but it was harder to remember that when they were as handsome as he was. "I dropped something?" she asked, looking down toward her purse to see if she had.
He grinned and let his steps slow naturally, though he kept his distance and held out a folded twenty that he'd apparently found on the sidewalk. "It looked like you dropped this and...well...I didn't figure money would last very long on the ground in a neighborhood like this. Of course, if it's not yours, I guess I could treat myself to another round...though I was just on my way home...."
She checked her purse, but she wasn't missing any money. "No, guess it's yours then," she said, looking back up at him with a smile. "You could always wait and have an extra round next time, or use it to buy morning coffee or something like that." She had...a feeling about him, but she didn't have a clue as to what it was, so she just pushed it aside. Besides, he was still keeping a distance from her, too.
He smile seemed to widen slowly and he let his blue eyes meet hers even in the darkness. "Good point. Not much into overpriced coffee, but it'd probably cover a pizza and I could bribe the roommates to do some chores for me or something." Fuck, did he sound half as insincere as he felt? Oh, but he faked it well as he ran his free hand through his hair and let his smile take on a sheepish look. "You live on campus?" he asked, implying that he was a student at USC or UCLA and that he obviously took her for one as well. "Don't answer that," he said quickly. "That probably came off as one of those creep questions, right? But most girls I know wouldn't be walking around this late alone. Don't take that the wrong way."
"Yeah, I'm a student," Jamie said, not alluding to the fact that she was a high school student. She was feeling more and more rebellious lately for some reason. Maybe it was because she had her life snatched out from under her by becoming a Slayer? Actually, it was probably that. "I live at home, though. It's cheaper. I can take care of myself, though, so I'm not too worried about walking alone." She had more raw power than training, but it had done the trick before.
"Oh yeah?" The indulgent smile at that was both from a masculine and vampire perspective. The more she spoke, the younger she seemed. He wondered if she'd had any real training before. That wasn't to say he didn't understand the power of a Slayer. He was...intimately...acquainted with it. Perhaps that was why he'd been so sensitive to Bella's allure. And now this girl.... "Yeah, most girls say that," he laughed good-naturedly. "Tell you what, I probably could use a cup of coffee to sober up. Wasn't planning on staying out this late, but my friends ditched me to head to some other party. Since this twenty doesn't really belong to either of us...what do you say we split it and go hit up the diner by campus? It's only like two blocks east. And if you can convince me you can take care of yourself, I won't feel like such a dick for not walking a pretty girl home."
She smiled at him. "Sure, sounds great," she said to him. She could go for a cup of coffee. Sure, she had school tomorrow and junk, but she could always sleep during gym or something like that. Besides, she wanted to be a writer. It wasn't like you technically needed a college degree or anything. Besides, who cared about your grades in gym? "So, guess we'll just get walking then."
"I guess we will," he said with something that could have passed for a pleased sigh of relief. Sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he closed the distance between them and then fell into step next to her, shoulders hunched forward slightly, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "So are you a freshman? Sophomore? Figured out your major yet?" Ahhh...human small talk, even when it was a complete ruse, was horribly inane.
"I was thinking about creative writing," Jamie told him. "I haven't made up my mind yet, but I've still got tons of time." She had yet to actually tell a lie, so, she didn't feel bad quite yet. Besides, if she ever saw this guy again? She'd tell him the truth. She sort of figured it would be just a cup of coffee and then be done with it. She would probably be screaming for coffee during the school day, anyway, so she wanted to take advantage of the offer. "What major are you?"
"History," Luke answered easily. "I'm...what you could call a history buff, I suppose." He arched a brow, making the statement seem somewhat comical, but didn't elaborate much more. They hooked a left and even from their distance, the lights of the diner could be made out - bright and neon and flashing. Thus far he wasn't leading her astray, but that was all part of the game, wasn't it?
She noticed the lights of the diner and felt a little more at ease. It was still worrisome to be out in the dark in the city, after all. "Really?" she asked. "I was honestly thinking of history being my minor. English and history are all I'm really good at, anyway." Well, and supposedly, she would be a good Slayer. Who knew?
"That's all? Hard to believe. Girls who look like you generally have everything going for them." When they'd reached the diner, he opened the door for her with another smile. "So what do you like to write about?"
She blushed a tad, walking through the door and mumbling a quick 'thank you' to him. "I kind of have the bad habit of getting distracted in most of my other classes," she admitted to him. "I like to write about supernatural stuff. You know, witches and vampires and things like that." Which fit her new life perfectly!
"Really?" He laughed lightly. "You don't look like the Anne Rice type." Of course he should laugh at the idea of the supernatural. What normal person believed in such. "Or one of those science-fiction lovers. But hey, people eat that stuff up. If you're any good, you should be able to make it into something profitable." A waitress met them just inside the door and led them toward a booth, menus in hand. "Just coffee," he ordered, but then motioned to the blonde. "Feel free to order whatever...I...don't even know your name."
"I'm not really into Anne Rice. I hope to improve upon what she has done." And greatly surpass it. She smiled at him. "Jamie Thompson," she said, offering him her hand. "I didn't catch your name, either." If only this guy knew what she knew about the supernatural. Except that she wasn't going to portray vampires like they really were. Completely evil vampires didn't sell very well. No, people liked sexy vampires who had at least a few redeeming qualities, even if they were mostly evil. Just being evil and possibly good looking wasn't usually enough to carry a vampire series, at least not the ones that she had read.
"Luke Jacobs," he returned, taking her hand with one that was cool to the touch, but not unnaturally so - probably owing to the fact that he'd already fed tonight...not so long ago. Handing the menus over to the waitress once she'd taken their order, he leaned back against the back of the booth, relaxing as he watched Jamie with the hint of an amused grin. "So what have you written so far? Is that kosher to ask of a writer?"
"Pleased to meet you," Jamie said, still smiling. For some reason, probably because of how handsome the guy sitting in front of her was, she didn't register just how cold he was. "No, it's kosher, don't worry. I've mostly just written ideas that I get and things. Between school and stuff, it's hard to find time to do homework, much less write for the joy of it." She looked down. "That sounded kind of dorky, didn't it?"
"The pleasure's all mine," he grinned. "And n-...yeah," he laughed easily, "Yeah, it did. But it's forgivable. so what are the ideas? Obviously you're not planning to go the Rice route. What do you imagine the supernatural to be like?"
"I kind of am a little dorky when it comes to stuff like that," Jamie admitted. "And I have all different sorts of ideas. When it comes to the imagination, you don't really have to stick with one idea of vampires or werewolves or anything like that. You can make up something completely different for every story." OK, maybe she was getting around the fact that, at least a little bit, she knew what the supernatural was like, and it wasn't like how anyone had written it.
"I guess you're not interested in writing a series then? Continuity and all?" He had to wonder just what she knew about the supernatural. If she had any real idea of what it was like. How close she'd been to it. "Then again, you make a guy wonder what kind of girl really sits around thinking about werewolves and vampires and witches. I thought most girls were into parties and clothes and...." A dimple flashed as his smile widened. "Guys."
"Well, I'm new in town, so no parties yet," Jamie said to him. "I'm kind of going back and forth between ideas, though. If I ended up doing a series, then obviously I would have to stick with one thing, though. I'd probably have to have both good and evil vampires, for example. You can't really have a group be all good or all bad or it gets uninteresting fast." She blushed a tad when his smile widened. "Well, I guess I'm not like most girls." At least not with the parties and clothes.
"Oh," he said with a knowing nod, playing it up. "So...you're a...you're into...girls?" There could have been something endearing about the way he tried to clarify that point. As if he weren't quite at home watching two - or more - women together. Like that was the worst he'd ever seen. "Not that I'm trying to pry. It's a...valid life choice. Disappointing," he added with an apologetically flirtatious grin, "but not the end of the world."
"I'm into guys!" Jamie said, coming off as a little defensive. "Well, I like guys, I mean..." She blushed again. She had been doing that a lot tonight. "I can appreciate a pretty girl, but my general preference is guys?" Ugh, not something she generally told people when she first met them.
Luke laughed again. "You're cute when you blush." The waitress brought back a pot of coffee with two mugs and cream. He took his black and was careful to appear hesitant at first to prevent scalding his mouth. Ah, such tedious human habits. "And really, who doesn't appreciate a pretty girl?" His gaze landed on her pointedly.
Jamie started to mix in some cream with her coffee so that she would have something to look at and not Luke while she continued to blush more because he said that she was cute when she blushed. "Well, I do that a lot," she muttered. She really did blush a lot for a teenage girl. Or maybe it was normal. She really wasn't sure. "I guess everyone can appreciate, at least." God, could she turn any redder at this point?
Fuck, he just wanted to reach across the table and grab her by the neck, pull her to him and bury his fangs in her soft, sweet skin. Instead, he sipped his coffee and looked toward the diner's counter and all of the tired looking meatbags sitting there. "Do you really think there has to be a dichotomy? Good and bad? What if there only exists varying levels of evil?"
She finally finished killing her coffee and took a sip of it. Her brother always made fun of her for basically filling her cup with sugar and cream and then still calling it 'coffee.' "I don't know, it's an interesting thought. It's definitely something that could be explored in a novel, or a few." Actually, it was an interesting idea. At least with varying levels, reading could still have someone to root for, like an anti-hero sort of deal.
His lips curved in another hint of a smile, though this one was far less amused. It passed quickly though and he turned his attention back to the girl. "Do you actually believe in things like the supernatural?"
Now here was the time where she had to, well, not lie, but avert again. She had been told that, honestly, you weren't supposed to tell others that you were a Slayer. Well, as few people as possible. Then again, it seemed like everyone knew, anyway. "Well, you really can't discount anything, can you?" she asked him. "I mean, seeing is believing, but not seeing isn't 'not' believing, is it?"
"Isn't it? Isn't that why you have atheists and U.F.O. skeptics? Suspension of disbelief is easy when it comes to things like movies and books, but when it comes to actual belief? Sure. A lot of people might say it's not that they don't believe. But you either do or you don't, right? If you think there's a possibility...it's just a particular form of belief."
Ugh, he caught her in a conundrum, hadn't he? Was he sure that he wasn't a philosophy or debate student? Because, if not, then he had missed his calling. "Why do you ask, anyway? What do you believe? Do you think that there are real witches and vampires out there, and not just dorks running around who got too carried away with roleplaying games?"
He eyed her again, a sort of casual amusement in his gaze as he seemed to think about her question. "I think...." His eyes darkened momentarily, as if he were indeed giving it great consideration. "I think humanity is capable of great evils...and that people have to believe there's something out there worse than they are. To tell the truth? It would probably serve them right if there were."
That was a strange way to think about the world. She couldn't exactly knock it or anything. She wasn't going to say something about someone's beliefs, especially someone that she didn't really know. "Humanity is capable of great evils," she said to him. He was a history buff, so he knew more than most, having had to read about it all. "It's scary to think that there could be something worse than Stalin or Hitler out there, though."
The whole conversation reminded him of a stand-up routine by Eddie Izzard who was, interestingly enough, one of his favorite comics. Just because he was dead didn't mean he couldn't appreciate good humor. "You know, we think if somebody kills someone, that's murder, you go to prison. You kill ten people, you go to Texas, they hit you with a brick, that's what they do. Twenty people, you go to a hospital, they look through a small window at you forever. And over that, we can't deal with it, you know? Someone's killed a hundred thousand people. We're almost going, 'Well done! You killed a hundred thousand people? You must get up very early in the morning....'" he quoted. Good memory? It was just another of his many talents.
She actually laughed at the last thing that he said. "Of course, if you kill enemies in a war, it's treated completely different. 'You killed fifty Nazis? Good for you, here's a medal.'" She never did understand the difference. "Of course, if the other side kills fifty of your guys, you charge them for war crimes. It depends on who wins the war, I suppose. Like, things probably would very, very be different if Germany won World War II."
"Countries kill their own people and hardly anyone takes notice. You have to cross the boundaries before people give a shit. War itself...is an entirely different monster. People kill in order to survive. It's animal instinct and domination at its most basic, disguised by political subterfuge. What's the difference between one of your supposed vampires...and a soldier who kills men, women, and children on the basis that it's either them or him? We all do what we have to in order to survive."
"People only start taking notice when it starts affecting them. Or if someone makes a movie about it." Kind of sad, that. "You certainly have kind of a pessimistic view of society as a whole. Get that from studying history?" It sort of made sense to her: read so much about what man has done to other men and get frustrated with the whole society. She didn't exactly have a great view of society herself, and she just liked to read and write books.
"Something like that," Luke nodded as he finished his coffee. "But you're not exactly countering with a rosy picture of humanity. What's your conclusion? Not worth saving?"
She took a final sip of hers as well. "Well, maybe not everyone is worth saving. How can someone have a soul and still do such atrocious things to people?" OK, a minor slip, there. She knew that vampires were soulless, but really, what made them that different than a guy with a soul who kills his entire family before killing himself because he got fired from his job and thought that they couldn't live without him?
Luke took a deep breath, but hesitated before speaking. He hadn't had a soul for over five hundred centuries now. Couldn't say that he missed it. He'd her stories about vampires who'd been cursed, had their souls returned after decades of evil deeds, and it drove some of them mad. Then there were the few aberrations like Damon and Elle who managed to retain some semblance of a conscience, at least, which kept their misdeeds in check. For the most part. he had hopes that Elle would age out of it. Damon...that travesty had been brought on by a woman...and his current involvement didn't seem destined to rectify things. Not yet, anyway. "What is the soul, anyway? Some invisible thing that makes us human? What does it do? What's it good for? How do you know it's not as useless as, say, your appendix? If it even exists."
She shrugged. "Just something that you hear for so many years. 'How could you do something so soulless?' 'He sold his soul to get what he wanted.' Sometimes I think that it's just an expression that people use that's left over from olden times when people believed that spirits lived in trees." She pushed her coffee cup aside. "I'm not sure it matters, anyway."
"Of course it doesn't matter." Let her think him a pessimist. He considered himself a pragmatic realist. Souls were pretty useless in his opinion. "Whether they exist or not, they don't keep bad people from doing bad things. Come to think of it, they don't keep GOOD people from doing bad things. No one's innocent."
She almost wondered if there was such a thing as a 'good' person, sometimes. Maybe he was right. Maybe there really was only levels of evil, and some people were just more tolerable than others. Or they were just better at burying it. Who knew? "Souls don't do anything, it seems. They don't stop someone from being bad, that's for sure."
"Useless," he surmised, flashing her another grin. "I think I'm sober now, I'm just not sure I can blame the coffee. You're kind of an interesting girl. Not just another pretty face." Lena would laugh to see him now. Then again, given the fact that the blonde was a Slayer, she might have the tendency to be slightly less amused.
She smiled at him. "You're interesting, too. You really made me think about some stuff." Not that she didn't already have sort of sour beliefs about people, but he actually did have a few valid points.
He gave a short laugh at that and sat back, running his fingers through his hair. "At the very least, maybe it's something you can use in your books someday. And if I rank a dedication, that'll be the icing on top of the cake."
"I'll definitely keep you in mind for a dedication," she said to him. "So, do you still feel the need to walk me home?" she asked with a smile.
"Are you kidding me? Now that we've decided the world is going to Hell in a hand basket?" His smile widened briefly. "Yeah. I know you said you can take care of yourself, but...what kind of guy would I be if I didn't offer?"
She smiled at him. "I think I'd like you to walk me home, actually," she said, standing up from the table. "If the world really is so bad, then I probably shouldn't be walking home alone."
He chuckled, standing as well as he pulled the twenty from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. It'd be a nice tip on four dollars worth of coffee. "After you," Luke said, motioning for Jamie to lead the way. "I consider it my solemn duty to ensure you make it home safe and sound," he teased.
She laughed a little and then turned so that she could lead him out the door. "You know, I actually don't live that far from here," she said to him as she headed out. "So, at least you won't have to make much of a turnaround to go back to your dorm."
"Yeah, well, don't worry about little old me." He stood to his full height, roughly six feet - give or take - and tried to affect some kind of stereotypically macho accent. "I can take care of myself."
She laughed again. "I'm sure that you can," she said to him with a smile. Most guys at least thought that they could take good care of themselves.
The night air was still warm, but he tucked his hands into his pockets again as he walked with the girl in companionable silence. Or rather, what would have been companionable silence if he hadn't been thinking about how easy it would have been to take her here, now. So why didn't he? Because, more than he wanted the blood, he liked the challenge, liked the game. At some point in their conversation, he'd realized that the fun in this one would be to completely undermine her calling. That need to save innocents by killing the evil undead. Would she turn on it? There was only one way to find out. "This might sound a little weird," he said after a few moments, "but we should do this again."
"I think I'd like that," she said to him as she led him more toward her place. She had actually enjoyed talking to him. Most people thought her a sort of pessimist when she talked too much about her own sorts of beliefs. For once, she found someone darker in beliefs than her.
"Yeah. Me too." He cast her a sidelong glance, his dark hair falling boyishly into his eyes before he dragged his hand through it and cleared his throat. "So...how about this weekend?"
Jamie seemed to think on that for a minute. "I think I can go along with that," she said to him with a smile.
"Great." He honestly seemed pleased. "But, uh, do you want to meet up again after a long night out bar-hopping, or would you prefer to do things the old-fashioned way? Make a complete night out of it?"
"Well, making it a complete night could be fun, too," Jamie said to him with a smile. Sadly, she had actually never been on a date before. She was sort of a weird loner type at her own school, anyway.
"Pick you up at eight?" His footsteps slowed when hers did and he assumed they'd almost arrived at their destination. That he hadn't attacked her was a feat in and of itself. As sadistic as he could be...as he ENJOYED being...maybe there was a bit of masochist in him too.
"I'd like that," she said. "I'll be ready for eight, then." She turned and, with a slight wave to him, started to walk toward her house. Wow, she may have actually found a decent guy. Who knew they still existed?