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Good Girls Always Want the Bad Boys (Many moons ago when Dawn and Jack first arrived) [04 Dec 2005|12:49am] [ mood | hot ] Jack cut back on the motorcycle's throttle as soon as it became apparent that the lights weren't a trick of the highway. He knew he was making good time, and he knew he was getting close, but he wasn't there yet - and he was getting more restless instead of less, having had all the open miles to ask himself what he was doing. Obviously it was time for a break. Cutting his speed almost all the way down to an idle, he turned into the nearly deserted parking lot. Eyes already scanning the new turf, he rolled the bike into as dark a spot as he could find. Hopefully no one would notice that the plates on the Honda Shadow were missing. He killed the engine, knocked the kickstand down, but didn't dismount - instead sitting astride the bike, listening to the low ticks coming from the abused engine as it began to cool in the Nevada night. Dawn had been driving for hours in her rented car. She had the radio blasting and she was singing at the top of her lungs because no one was in the car to tell her her singing was completely atrocious. Singing was a good way to relieve stress. The stress of having your sister call and bitch at her for a complete hour about taking off had severely made her irritated. And it was a great stress reliever for her to get it all out. Eventually she got a little bored of sitting behind the wheel and decided to pull over when she got to the next stop. It was time for a pee break and to stretch her legs. She had the phone turned off as she pulled into the quaint little diner. She was glad for the cars though. Meant that no one was going to come and kidnap her and take her off into the desert like some crazy rednecks or something. Parking the car, she got out and stretched out her limbs a little when her eye caught the shape of a guy on a motorcycle. She missed Spike's motorcycle. Figuring he was going to see her staring, she gave a small smile and a nod of her head and started to head inside. She was starving she finally realized as she waited to be seated, only to be told it was pretty much seat yourself in there. ( The perfect night for a game of cat and mouse ) ( This part Rated slightly Rish but it fades to black before anything real smutty happens ) ( Aftermath ) She laughed again, getting up towards her car finally. "I dunno... maybe. I'm good at stroking just two things. Ego's are one of them." She replied innocently, resting up against her car and turned towards him. "Definitely not used to being kept in a box, I'll agree with you there. I haven't met anyone who does frankly, no matter who they are." And if they did, they were repressing something. No one actually liked that. "You're right though. There just might be blood. One way or another. That's what it always comes down to isn't it? Not just for you." She gave him a small little grin. "Besides, you don't want to know what happens if you make my blood run. Bad shit happens." It was hard to tell if she was telling the truth, but something in her eyes suggested that she very well could be. It had happened once after all. And there would be no Buffy there to save the day. "If you want to call sex with me interesting.. you can do so. I'll file it under my brain under hot if you don't mind. It'll get me through the next couple of nights at least." She winked and finally slid down into her car and started it up. "I guess I'll be seeing you around Jack. And if we ever do see each other again... at least try to have a little fun." And with that, she started up her car and backed out of the diner, heading off down the road. He watched her tail-lights fade some distance down the highway before he stalked to his bike, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. If this little pit-stop had been any sort of indication... things would not be anywhere near dull once he reached his destination. Wherever the hell that was. Making a mental note to watch for the town Dawn had mentioned - Searchlight, she'd called it - he mounted up, and got back to the solitary ride. It was getting past time to start looking for somewhere to wait out the next day. reply

The First Casualty (A couple of days ago) [04 Dec 2005|01:26am] Aidan had never been one for fast food. His mother, coming from a large family, had learned to cook in quantity and kept up the habit throughout his life at least; with only Aidan and his father left to make a dent in the leftovers, there was always food on hand. Years following, with so much time spent on the road or on the run, he had grown accustomed to greasy spoon type diners in small nowhere towns along the highway. It was rare he stopped in anywhere for fast food. Since arriving in Searchlight, he could count the number of times he had visited the McDonald's on one hand. But still settling in at his new place, all he had on hand was Sam's tuna and bottled water. Rather than wander into the diner, he opted for a quicker meal, and headed into the local Mickey D's, to stand in line with the locals and pretend to fit in. It's not like Dawn had a real place to live. She was staying in a motel because she thought she wasn't going to be in town long. After all this was just merely a check out things and see what's up and then go home kind of deal. There was no reason to stay so far. And that being said, she obviously needed to eat. And the restraunt in the motel she was staying at had about the worst food imaginable. Completely cardboard. There was only one thing left to do. And there was no way she was going to a Double Meat Palace. She was glad she hadn't seen one since she got here. Instead she headed into McDonald's and got in line with her hands in her pockets. Her hair hung past her shoulders in large ringlets, tank top and jeans seemed to be all she was wearing. ( You'll get stuck here ) Aidan chuckled again; he hadn't been quite this cheerful in a while, or laughed as much. So this was certainly a change. "Believe me, I know," he agreed, reaching to tap at the long straight scar that rose from the collar of his shirt and settled to its end just before his throat. He fumbled a moment for something to write with, remembering after a moment that he had a square carpenter's pencil in pack pocket of his jeans. He retrieved it and scribbled his cell phone number and email address on the back of his dinner receipt. "I have to go," he told her apologetically, realizing by the dimming sky how late it had gotten. He hadn't meant to stay out that late, or even eat his dinner at the restaurant; the kid behind the counter had messed up and served on a tray what should have been tucked into a paper sack. But it had worked out well – he had met Dawn, after all. But he mentally berated himself, knowing that he had still yet to completely unpack since his move from the house to his apartment, and poor Sam was probably starving. The cat was pretty intelligent, but had yet to master using the can opener. "But, this is my number and my email, so, give me a call and I can contact Em and hook you guys all up. Or, you know. Just call and we can hang out." Dawn took the paper with a smile and looked it over. So far so good. She tucked it into her pocket and stood up. "Gotcha... like I said.. I'm right around the corner there.." she pointed across the street at the Motel 6. Room 401. Come by anytime but I'm sure I'll stop by the shop pretty soon." She gathered her trash together and wondered if she should shake his hand again. "I'll be seeing you Aidan. Don't you worry." she winked and headed over to the trash and then headed out of the McDonald's. She kept meeting the most interesting people around here. reply

Pacing [04 Dec 2005|02:15am] [ mood | worried ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Waiting -- not Kris' strong point, the Slayer hated it, she hated standing around, she hated not knowing anything and she hated that she had no control in a hospital. Nothing was up to her, not even decisions about her own health were up to her and in spite of the hour she had spent arguing with the doctor he had decided on stitches for a few of her injuries. Stitches, now those hurt like a bitch and stung like anything afterwards, the Slayer was not happy. Too amped up and raring to go and yet she had nowhere to go. No world to save, job already done and no demon ass to kick because let's face it, she and the others had already done that. Pacing, seemed to be the only way for her to get out her restless energy. Both Hayden and Corbett were still being seen by the doctors and worry had already begun to creep through her mind before it had lingered to fester until it had turned into doubt. In the rational part of her mind, she knew that they'd be fine but the irrational part of her mind couldn't help but wonder if there were any other injuries to consider. Kris was for lack of a better word driving herself to the point of insanity and there was no way she was going to sleep. Again, she was still too amped up from the altercation with those damn nasty demons. A few unsavoury words escaped Kris' tongue and gasps were soon heard as people seemed to hurry past the girl bloodied and with the ruined clothes. The only reaction Slayer seemed to have to the peoples shock was a lift of an eyebrow and then a shake of her head, they didn't know what had happened and would never know -- name of the game, after all. "I am going slowly insane," Kris mumbled to her only companion, the ever friendly and ever bright white wall to her right. The wall of course had no answer because it was a wall but sometimes no answer was the best response anyone could ever get to a statement like the one Kris had just made. She doubted she'd appreciate sarcasm or anything of the sort right now. Slayer soon resigned herself to yet more waiting and sunk into a damned uncomfortable chair and fixed her brown stare on the closed door in front of her. reply

Indisposed [04 Dec 2005|06:01am] [ mood | determined ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Joseph's ability to charm people was quite amazing, he seemed able to get people to do as he wanted with the right turn of phrase and the right kind of smile. He had made a career out of knowing people and he used what he knew to get people manoeuvred into place. Even looking the way that he did and sounding the way that he did he had managed to convince the medical professionals to allow him access to a phone. It was all that he needed to do what he usually did best but for now he'd have to rely on another to gather information and then he'd use that information to find someone. It was awkward to move, IV drips made moving his arms difficult but those tubes weren't about to stop him. A brief moment was spared to gather his breath and construct erratic thoughts and when he had his head back where he wanted it to be, his eyes opened. The days before might have given Joseph cause to be tired, cause to be a little lost and forgetful but he still remembered numbers and he was dialing one using his thumb as all his other fingers hurt too much to move. A twist of shoulder caught the body of the phone itself and it was now cradled between ear and shoulder, the familiar sound of a dial tone filled the depths of Joseph's ear. How long had it been since he had heard that sound? How long had he gone without access to the outside world? Far too long in his opinion. Joseph rolled his eyes to one side as the dial tone continued to plague him, this particular contact seemed to take forever to answer his phone and sometimes when he'd answer he'd sound breathless and Joseph never wanted to know why. "Hello," a gruff voice seemed to pant down the line. Joseph's lips twisted into a faint scowl before a sharp pain caused his lips to settle into a more neutral position, "Missed me?" Humour laced his voice, a soft gravely chuckle escaped the back of his throat and Joseph hoped that the man on the other end of the line wouldn't need any clarification. There was a considerable pause on the other end of the line until a breathless voice seemed to mutter, "Fuck me! Is that you Joseph?" Another pause followed by a laugh, a laugh that sounded relieved, "Where the fuck have you been?" That was the question Joseph had been expecting, Damon was a little predictable to say the least but that's what made him so reliable because Joseph knew his every thought and every action before he did. "It's a long story, maybe I'll tell you about it over a couple beers," Lips slid into an easy smirk, "You're buying of course." A snort echoed down the phone line before Damon muttered, "Should have known you'd be like that." "You love it really," Joseph murmured before a cough racked his body and shook his form. God it hurt, he couldn't breathe let alone speak for a few moments but the coughing fit passed and he was able to speak, albeit in a raspier voice. "I need you to do something for me, Damon." "Anything," was Damon's instant response. Joseph had gotten him out of a lot of fucked up situations and he owed the man a lot. Joseph laughed softly but it was nothing in comparison to his usual laugh, this laugh seemed emptier almost void of something that gave life to his spirit. "I need to find someone and when you do, I need you to tell me where she is. Got it?" Damon nodded his head and he replied, "Got it, who is it and where do I start?" "Rhiannon Lee," Joseph muttered before he shifted his weight in the bed and tried to find some kind of comfort though he knew that would be a long time coming. "I don't think she would have gone home and I doubt she's been to my place in a while," A pang of hurt stirred deep in his chest and for a moment he was sure his heart had clenched until he ignored it and continued. "Check hotels, motels, any place that provides ...a hideaway." On the other end of the line, Damon was taking notes and listening to Joseph speak as it seemed to be hard work for him to say much of anything so Damon wouldn't ask him to repeat himself, "What are you going to do when I find her?" "What any guy does when he loves a woman, get my ass out of bed and go to her for better or for worse," Joseph croaked, throat constricting and demanding some kind of lubrication. Eyes closed as a sudden wave of exhaustion began to lay claim to him and he just managed to fight it off to wheeze down the line, "Find her Damon and do it quick." A dull tone now met Damon's ear as Joseph had rung off and Damon wasted no time as he gathered his things and set out into the heart of Las Vegas itself. reply

Heal The Wounds [04 Dec 2005|06:48am] [ mood | tired ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ With vampires both settled into the depths of her basement with a supply of blood, Bethany's own blood taken from her own arm, and a very state of the art first aid kit, the Slayer had climbed the stairs that led to her bedroom. Her movements were slow, staggered, her body ached and her neck had taken to throbbing. Purple bruises lingered on the delicate skin near her neck and you could almost make out the shape of fingers, the demon had been set on strangling the life from Bethany but he had failed like so many before him. Sag of shoulder brought Bethany's weight to settle against the doorway of her bedroom and for a very short moment her eyes closed and she almost gave into the alluring almost blissful state she knew that unconsciousness could offer. Brown eyes were blinked back into reality and she stifled a soft groan as she pulled an injury on her way to her adjacent bathroom. Victoria was safe, that was all that mattered, her own physical state was of little importance. Hands shed clothing until that same clothing hit the ground at now bare feet, shivers ran through Bethany as cool tiles beneath her feet caused her body temperature to drop and she lifted an arm to watch as the skin prickled. She considered her skin for a moment, the same skin covered in bruises and blood. Some of it her own and the rest ..who the hell knew. She gingerly crouched herself down beside the bath and started to run the faucet, she let the water run as hot as it wanted to be and she seemed to burn her skin a startling shade of red as her body sunk into the depths of the water. Trails of pink left open wounds and tinged the water, it soon became murky as dirt and grime was washed away much like the emotional distress she had suffered during this entire ordeal. The only sound that seemed to puncture the quiet serenity that had overcome the bathroom was the soft disturbance of water by various limbs as they moved in the attempt to clean. It was over, it was finally over, that in itself was more cleansing than Bethany could ever have imagined. reply

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