| Goddamned Babysitter |
[23 May 2008|02:37pm] |
"Okay, let me get this straight." Grace was leaned forward, one elbow on the table, her other hand rubbing her forehead as though she could feel a headache coming on. "You need Blanchard's kid for your little ritual or whatever the hell it is, only she's gone mental and you think she might whack the little shit before you can get to him. So you need protection for him, namely ... me. Is that about how it goes?"
She and Epimetheus were seated in the back booth of a twenty-four-hour diner just off the Strip, and she was seriously considering running him right the fuck into the Henderson facility just for annoying her. He had been useful in the past, but maybe he had outlived that. Maybe more than maybe.
The vampire knuckled a spot above her left eye, wondered if she didn't need to cultivate a better class of people, then sat back a little. "You come up with this brainstorm all on yer own?" she asked dryly. "What exactly is it you want me to do? And what's in it for me? I'm not a Goddamned babysitter."
( This shit's gonna make headlines )
[NPC Epimetheus was written by Jeff.]
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| Bedside Manner |
[23 May 2008|08:05pm] |
After breakfast with Connor, Rhiannon walked back to her loft. She took a hot shower and slept face-down on the bed for hours. When she awoke, her body felt different, the muscles sore from the fight and the deep slumber during which she hadn't moved much. A pinkish-brown bruise had surfaced next to her mouth. She wandered to the kitchen in a stupor and fixed a glass of ice water, which she sipped and put on the bruise. It made her face feel marginally better.
It was during that moment of relief that Rhiannon saw an envelope by the front door. It must've been slipped across the threshold while she was knocked out. Upon opening it, she found a note in Joseph's handwriting that gave a new address, and a key she could use to let herself in. The thought of going over there made Rhiannon's stomach do a weird swirling thing. "What says 'sorry I almost put you in federal custody?'" she mumbled and looked around the apartment for cues.
An hour passed before Rhiannon got to his temporary home. The building wasn't his style, and maybe that was a good thing. It was a drab, claustrophobic place but it wouldn't draw any suspicion. A neighbor's dog yipped at the Slayer from a nearby apartment. She could hear its tiny, sharp-nailed paws clicking on the floor. She dug the key out of her pocket and turned the lock. There weren't any lights on in the living room and the blinds were closed. She shut the door and let her eyes adjust.
"Joseph?"
The silence stretched out. Rhiannon shifted her feet. Even with the key, she felt like she was breaking and entering. As she began to pick out more of her surroundings, she saw that the place was furnished, but not with Joseph's things. The lamps and upholstered furniture were a little outdated and impersonal. She had a paper bag in her fingers, which she considered putting on the coffee table, but decided to keep with her. Rhiannon's boots disturbed the vacuum lines on the beige carpet as she went down a hall with bedrooms flanking it.
The door on the end was cracked open. She nudged it farther and saw a lump under the sheets. "Joseph?"
After Joseph had slid the envelope under Rhiannon's door, he'd slipped back to his hideaway apartment, the one the government couldn't have known anything about. He'd patched up his various injuries as best he could, a finger taped off as a bone needed to heal. Maybe it was the sudden lack of adrenaline but he'd only managed to pull off his shirt before sleep had crept on him and he'd hit the mattress.
He rarely slept peacefully so even as Rhiannon inched her way through the apartment Joseph stirred restlessly and he murmured a few faint things in a tongue that very few could understand unless their family came from Italy. It took Joseph a few moments to realize Rhiannon's voice and the familiar sound of her boots weren't figments of his very active dream and he slowly came back to consciousness.
Joseph turned over, promptly putting hair in his face, opening bloodshot eyes that were more than a little obscured at this point. "Rhi?" he mumbled thickly, voice heavy with sleep. "S'that you?" The extremely dim lighting just picked out the sharper angles of Joseph's features and glinted off the necklaces around his neck.
She smiled. "If it's not, might be time to grab a weapon," she said, keeping her voice low. The brunette let herself in the room and put the bag on the nightstand. How Joseph looked when he was sleepy always touched something in Rhiannon. It was endearing and sexy and impossible not to touch him. She hooked a finger into his hair and pulled it out of his eyes. "So can I come in?" she asked, teasing. Looking at the corner of the sheet, she was tempted to crawl in beside him.
( Wake Up, Sleepyhead )
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