FRIENDS
                              by darkangel


        The war had been on for a week now, and I was exhausted.  LaCroix
had me running circles, doing strategy, and I was getting tired of it.  I
exited the hotel and hopped on the Harley I'd bought when I arrived in
Toronto (I'd had the cash, as the business was doing well, and I figured
that when the war was over, I'd drive it back to Florida to relax.  We
needed a new bike, anyway, as my girlfriend was looking to buy one.) and
started the engine.  My tension fell away as the machine purred between
my legs, and I bounced the kickstand up, pressing play on my Discman
before pulling out of the parking lot.
        I let Mozart's _Requiem_ fill me, bringing the joy it always
did.  The wind tumbled my hair, and I laughed aloud with the ecstasy of
the ride.  This could be a good night, after all.
        The ride was ruined by the sound of a siren behind me.  Damn!  I
pulled the earphones out and jammed them into my pocket as I pulled my
bike over.  I cut the engine and dismounted.  I leaned against the bike
as I looked at the car behind me.  It was a large, blue Caddy, and a
blonde man was walking toward me.  I was surprised that Nick was on duty
- he looked very haggard.  I wasn't surprised, with all the tricks I'd
been throwing at the Knighties.
        "Yes, officer?"
        "Your tailpipes are too loud.  I'm going to have to give you
a--"  He looked at me intently, taking in the black "Forever Knight"
shirt which showed through my open jacket.  It was the only thing I wore
which wasn't black leather.  "You're that Darkangel person that's working
for LaCroix, right?"
        Words spreads fast around Toronto, doesn't it?  I wasn't
surprised.  Two days ago a Cousin had defected to the Knighties, and I'm
sure the traitor told everyone who I was.
        I held out my gloved hand to him.  "Nice to meet you, Detective
Knight."  I tried not to sound as sardonic as I felt.
        He looked at my outstretched hand as if it were an implement of
destruction.  I dropped it and lit a cigarette.
        "Have any luck translating the diary that Knightie took from me?"
        He at least had the good grace to blush.  Even he probably
couldn't figure out the code I kept my notes in.  I was just glad that I
kept an extra copy under LaCroix' pillow.
        "Can I have my ticket now, please?  I'm awfully busy."  I smiled,
trying to look polite.
        I got a dark look in return for my efforts.  "I'll bet.  I hope
you realize that Scottie still hasn't gotten over--"
        "Yes, I do realize that.  Tell her it's nothing personal."
        He sputtered.  "Nothing personal?"  His voice was getting louder
by the second.  "But you--"
        "I know what I did.  It's my job."  I assumed my best professorial
look.  "Duty, you understand."
        "Duty?  I thought you were a mercenary."
        "Yes, and it's my duty to do my best for the highest bidder.
LaCroix happened to have won that.  If I get any better offers, than my
loyalty changes."
        "And what did it take for LaCroix to have you?"
        I tried very, very hard not to snicker.  I opened my mouth to
speak when he cut me off.
        "Nevermind.  I'm not sure I want to know."  He stuck his hands
into his pockets.  "Is there are way to get you to leave the, ah,
Knighties alone?"
        "Well..."  I closed the gap between us, and began whispering
exactly what I had in mind.
        He jumped back as if I'd hit him.  "I can't do that!  And even if
I was physically capable, I wouldn't do it!"
        Goddess, he was cute when he got mad.  "Your choice.  You know my
price."  I got back onto my bike.  "Are you giving me that ticket, or am
I leaving?"
        He scribbled out the rest of the ticket and handed it to me.
        I smiled sweetly and handed him a card.  "My cellular number, in
case you change your mind."  The bike beneath me roared to life.  "Nice
meeting you, Detective."
        On the drive back to the hotel I started plotting my next move on
the Knighties.  Nick had just done the worst thing possible - he'd made this
war a personal challenge.

        My tactics worked.  Two days later, after several vicious (but
not permanently damaging) attacks on the Brick's little followers, I got
a phone call.
        "Yes?"
        "This is Nick.  What kind of monster are you?"
        "Why, thank you, Detective, I'm fine.  And how are you?"
        I could hear him glowering.
        "My people are a wreck, thanks to you!"
        "What can I say?  I'm good at my job."  I picked up the sweater I
was knitting, and started working on it while I waited for him to speak.
        "I... I'm willing to agree with your terms."
        I smiled.  I knew this day would come.  For all his denseness, he
was quite cute.  "Fine.  Your loft in an hour?"
        "I can't do it now.  I have to be at work in half an hour.  How
about tomorrow night?"
        I sighed.  Why did he have to be so difficult?  "Fine.  Sunset okay?"
        "Fine."  The phone went dead.  He didn't sound too thrilled with
the situation, but he'd live.
        There was a knock on the door.  I replaced the receiver, and
looked through the peephole in the hotel room door.  It was one of the
Cousins.
        I opened the door.  "Yes?"  I had seen this one before, in the
Cousins' headquarters.  She was rather hard to miss - about 5'7", with
waistlength, curly red hair, very blue eyes, and a taste in tight black
clothing.
        She smiled.  "We were going out to have a drink, to celebrate
that last attack on the Knighties.  Wanna come?  Uncle's buying."
        She was gorgeous, and I couldn't resist.  I smiled, trying not to
drool.  "Sure."

        Three hours later I stumbled back to my room, drunker than I had
ever been.  Why had no-one told me how strong those tequila shooters
were?  I had drunk more than I meant to, only because that cute redhead
offered to let me do body shots off her.  Too bad she had disappeared
soon afterwards...  I clicked on the light.
        "I wondered when you'd get here."
        "Huh?"  I noticed LaCroix sitting in the room's one chair.  "Oh, hello.
"
        He stood, pulling me close.  "Did you have a good time?"
        "Yesh."  I noticed I was slurring, but couldn't help it.
        He was kissing my neck.  "Good."  He ran his fangs across the
vein, and I felt the zing of lust scorch through me.  I smiled.  Alcohol
always did make me horny.  "You know, little one, I know all about your
little deal with Nicholas."
        "Oh?"  I was too busy enjoying his nibbling to notice his words.
        "Yes, and you must be punished for it."  His voice was still
soft, and the only things going through my mind involved leather cuffs, a
paddle, and several orgasms.
        "Not that kind of punishment, my dark angel."  Suddenly, my neck
hurt.  A lot.  But I liked it.  I suddenly felt dizzy, and realized what
he was doing.  I tried to raise my shields, but couldn't think through
the alcohol-induced haze.  He laughed.  "I must congratulate my Cousins -
they did a wonderful job of preparing you for me."  I could almost hear
him smile.  "Especially the redhead."
        I was close to passing out from lack of blood.  I wanted to hit
him, wanted to do anything to make him stop this nonsense.  But then his
wrist was at my mouth, and his blood was flowing into my mouth.  Its
coppery taste was wonderful somehow, and even though my mind was
screaming for me to stop, I drank.  Oh goddess, it was orgasmic, his
blood filling me up inside.  I gave in to the hunger, sucking at his
wrist with all my strength.  Then the arm was gone, and I was drowning in
blackness...

        When I came to, he was waiting.  "Good evening."
        "What time is it?"  Absurdly, it was the first thing I thought
of, same as I did every morning.
        "About six.  The sun just set."  He smiled charmingly.
        Sun just set.  That means I was asleep for some fourteen hours!
But how--  And then I remembered.  It must have showed on my face, for he
chuckled.
        "I appreciate you succumbing so nicely yesterday.  Of course, you
didn't expect for me to use the Cousins to lower your defenses, did you?"
        "You did this just because I talked to Nick?"
        "No.  I'd been planning it since the beginning, little one.  But
you did give me an excuse and an opportunity to do so sooner."
        I just looked at him.  The room was silent for several moments,
as we just watched each other.  Suddenly I noticed how hungry I was.
        He handed me a bottle, and I realized that he could hear my every
thought.  Damn.  It wouldn't be such a bad thing to be immortal if I
could have a little privacy.  I drained the bottle, and set it next to me
on the floor.  I swung my legs out of bed.  "I need a shower."
        As I stood beneath the spray of water, I called up my Othersight
and let the water rinse the negativity from me.  I was pleased that I
still had the power - I hadn't been sure if my link to the Goddess had
been severed by the events of last night.  I shampooed my hair, enjoying
the way the lather felt on my scalp, breathing in the steam.
        I finished my shower, taking everything in with my expanded senses, and

dressed.  I opened the bathroom door to find the room empty.  I smiled,
not minding.  I felt good, felt healthy - no asthma, no coughing from too
many cigarettes, no hangover from last night.  I could get used to this.
        I seated myself before my makeshift altar in the corner, and
began my nightly ritual, the same as always.

        "You're late."  Nick looked annoyed, and slightly paint-covered.
        "Sorry, I was, ah, kept late."  I smiled and set my knapsack down
next to his couch.  I was hungry, and was glad I filled my bag with the
bottles of blood LaCroix had left for me.  "Mind if I use your kitchen
for a moment?"
        "Sure."  He went back to the canvas and easel by the window and
began to paint more.
        I took my bag into the kitchen and put all but one bottle into
the fridge after tying a few yarn scraps from my knitting around the
bottle necks, so that I knew whose was whose.  I found a some disposable
party cups in the cupboard, and was looking for a corkscrew when I remembered
that I really didn't need one.  I used my teeth, and grinned as I poured myself
a cupful.  I laughed softly, knowing Janette would have a heart attack at
the sight of her private vintage being drunk from a big red Solo cup.  I
corked the bottle and left it on the counter after typing string around
the neck.  While I was working for the Cousins, it didn't mean that I had
to be spiteful.
        Nick didn't turn around when I came back in, but I could see how
tense he was.  I knew he would have smelled the blood as soon as I
uncorked the bottle, and I sat down on the couch.
        "He brought you across."
        "Yes."  I drank greedily.
        "Did you ask for it?"  He sounded bitter.
        "That depends on what sense you mean that in.  Did I say 'Will
you please bring me across?'  No, I didn't.  Did I let a gorgeous woman
get me drunk, forgetting to watch myself?  That I did."  I drank again.
"It was my fault for letting my guard down. Mind if I smoke?"
        "Go ahead, there's an ashtray on top of the fridge."  He looked
at me unhappily.  "It wasn't your fault, Steff.  He's the one who did
this to you."
        I returned with the ashtray.  "It's not that bad, Nick.  After
all, I'm healthy, I still have my friends and my religion, and my trick
knee is healed."  I lit a cigarette.  "Besides, it's nice to know that
I'll have eternity to help the world."
        "Great.  Just what I needed - Pollyanna Vampire."  He went to the
refridgerator and looked at my bottles, getting one of his own from the back.
        "Is it so bad to find the good in something?"
        "There's nothing good in what we are."
        "Every creature on this planet is here for a reason, Nick.  We're
all part of the Wheel of Life, and I refused to get dragged down by your
silly sense of Catholic guilt!"  I flicked the ash of my cigarette into
the ashtray.
        "Where did you come up with this stuff?"  Nick was shaking his
head, almost amused by my ideas.
        "I'm Wiccan.  We have no set boundaries of good and evil.  And we
don't have silly rules about sacred objects, either."  I took a rosary
from my pocket, which I had grabbed on my way out earlier.  "See?"  I put
the rosary on, and Nick's jaw hit the floor.  I took it off and stuffed
it back into my pocket.  "It's all psychosomatic, Nick.  I don't even
have a garlic problem."  I smiled and finished off my glass, still
hungry.  I returned to the kitchen and brought the whole bottle back with me.

        It was almost dawn.  I could feel the sun just below the horizon.
We had been talking all night, about history, politics, religion, and
many other subjects.  It was interesting to hear about events of the past
from the point of view of someone who'd been there, and he seemed to
enjoy finding out things from times he'd lived in that he didn't know
about, that I'd read from books as a history major.  "I should go."
        "You can stay here, if you like.  The couch is quite comfortable,
and I'd like to talk more.  If you don't mind, that is."  He smiled.
        I returned the grin and relaxed into the couch again.  "I'm glad
I brought all those bottles."
        "Speaking of which, would you like some more?  I'm hungry."  At
my nod he picked up our glasses and went to the kitchen.  I followed him,
carrying my overflowing ashtray.  I emptied it into the garbage and
turned to go back into the living room, but not before I bumped into
him.
        "Sorry."  I smiled apologetically.
        "It's okay," he answered quickly, but not moving out of the way.
I was pressed up against him, and he was looking at me in a way that made
my heart skip a beat, or would have if I was still mortal.  Then he was
kissing me, and I somehow manged to set the ashtray down on the counter
before wrapping my arms around his neck.  How he managed to be so gentle
and still so passionate was a mystery.  I felt his arms around my waist,
pulling me even nearer to him.  We kissed for what felt like eternity,
yet I felt a sense of loss when he drew back.
        "You don't have to sleep of the couch, if you don't want to."
        At his words I felt myself melt.  "I prefer beds, myself."
        He smiled.  "We should probably finish our, ah, dinner first.  I
have this feeling that I'm going to need my strength."
        I chuckled and picked up my cup.  "I think you're right."
        "What were we talking about before, ah..."
        "Before you jumped me?"
        "I didn't 'jump you'."
        "Yes you did."
        He gave me a mock dirty look.
        "Okay, it was mutual jumping.  And I was wondering if you
remembered anything about the Moslem Renaissance in the Middle East."
        "Oh, that.  I don't know anything about it, honestly - at the
time we were too busy killing them to notice their mathematics skills."
        We sat back down on the couch, and I put my feet in his lap.  He
took my boots off and began to rub them.
        "Mmmmm... How did you know I'm a sucker for a good massage?"
        "Just a hunch."  He smiled, looking beautiful and boyish and angelic.

        I sipped the cup in my hands, feeling happy and relaxed and aroused.
"You were saying?"

        It was close to noon when we realized how tired we were, having
continued to chat for several hours.  We climbed the stairs together.
        I grinned evilly and began unbuttoning his shirt.  He started to
help me, but I brushed his hand away.  "Please, let me."  I finished the
shirt and pulled it off of him, and did the same to his shoes, socks, and
pants.  I arched an eyebrow.  "No underwear?"
        He chuckled.  "Wasn't invented yet."
        I pushed him onto the bed and slowly removed my own clothes,
enjoying watching him watch me strip.  I climbed on top of him, sitting
on his legs just below his hardened cock.  I ran my hands over his body,
enjoying having him here beneath me, and leaned to kiss him on his lush
mouth.  He was a very good kisser.  He pulled me close, so that I was
lying on top of him, my breasts against the cornsilk of his chest.  I
felt my fangs extending, and sat back up, taking his wrist in my hand and
biting it.  He gasped, then moaned as I felt his blood in my mouth and
sucked harder.  His eyes were closed, fangs extended, his face the
picture of ecstasy.  I let him arm go and rubbed my palms against his
nipples, feeling the tiny blond hairs tickling my skin.  I could wait no
longer, and I moved forward to take him inside me.  It was sudden, how
easily he slipped into me, and the feel of his hardness filling me up was
intense.  I began to rock back and forth, moving my hips in the timeless
rhythm of sex.  He opened his eyes, which glowed.  I continued to ride
him, looking into his eyes and knowing that my expression matched his
own, feeling his hands roughly caressing my breasts.  I knew he was close
to the edge, and stopped moving.  The frustration I saw on his face was
too much, and I smiled, lying flat on him and nibbling at his neck.  I
felt his teeth at my own neck, and drew back.  "Not yet, gorgeous."  He
muttered something incoherent in French, and I began to rock, sitting
straight up and raking my nails over his arms and chest.  I came again
and again, feeling my muscles contracting around him, before I increased
my movements.  I let him pull me to him, his hands holding my wrists on
either side of his head, feeling his base of his cock scraping against my
clit as we moved together.  I nuzzled his neck, then bit it savagely,
feeling his blood fill me and his teeth pierced my neck, and I was
coming, the waves drowning me...
        I sat up, smiling, licking his blood from my fangs.  I contracted
my muscles deliberately, quickly, feeling his post-orgasmic twitch.  I
laughed, delighted, and got off of him.  I lay next to him, putting my
head in the hollow of his shoulder.
        He smiled, almost purring.  "That was nice."
        "I thought so."  I was feeling that post-sex gloating feeling of
satisfaction.  "See?  That's one good reason I don't mind being a vampire."
        He laughed, curling around me.  "Go to sleep, Pollyanna."
        And I did.

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