A/N It started as a drabble-ly type thing, next thing I knew it grew teeth and demanded more time. For those gone but not forgotten.

Disclaimer: I own nada, none of the characters, references to happenings in the series, or anything you recognise as from the show.

I only own what grew in my head and spilled on to these pages. Progressive Josef/Beth story. Italics is Josef thinking to himself.


The first time I touched her, I realised that she bruised. When Mick found her, as a small terrified child, he was messed up, confused I guess by what had happened that night.

The right thing to do would have been to contact the police and return the girl to her mother's arms, and then when the confusion was over to come to me and order the brain of Mick St. after the events of that night Mick wasn't thinking straight so he and the little girl, his precious mission, arrived at mine, tear-stained and shrouded in soot.

As Mick stumbled in the front door I had the freshies escorted from the property with gifts and apologies, for the night being cut short. Looking at Mick, he looked like a human in shock, all glazed over eyes vacant expression and shivering, I guided him to the nearest lounge all the while the bundle in his arms was softly whimpering, a softly shimmering confection of satiny bows and pretty lace, now off-white from the soot and travel mussed.

We entered into the elegant room, furnished in dark reds and browns, with a crackling fire and stone floors covered with a selection of thick stood as if dumbfounded at finding himself there, inwardly I sighed, and it would be difficult in getting the important details of the story from him tonight.

Placing a gentle guiding hand between his shoulder blades I led him to a crimson sofa in front of the fire, the colours reflecting in our eyes, and as he slowly sat he jostled the little bundle in his arms to whimper loudly. His arms tightened convulsively, I wasn't sure how much of his strength he had and how much he was using on the small thing in his arms, eliciting a louder pained whimper, too much strength then.

Mick looked to his arms and blinked as if he never realised he was holding something. Another inward sigh, bloody hell the things a man does for his friends, deeper this time. I eased myself down on the sofa beside him, slowly to not startle him, and then turned to face him again.

"Mick" I murmured softly "you are in no condition to do anything right now, so" stretching out my arms to receive his bundle I continued "'give it here and go to sleep, get something to eat, alright?" He blinked twice; blinking seemed the only thing his body was able to do, gaze flicking between the object in his arms and my hands as if willing something to happen.

Another sigh, idiot. After a few moments he loosened his vice grip on the delicate flesh and stretched out shaking arms to me. As I accepted it I noticed more about it, first it wasn't an it but a her. A child no more than 4 years old. Human. I settled her more comfortably in my arms and soon the whimpers quietened and trailed off. Looking down I saw huge blue eyes staring up at me, reddened by the tears that still glistened on her cheeks, her small mouth lips parted and reddened from chewing. Fear if I had to guess, to stop any sounds from escaping.

Shining blonde hair slightly marred by soot and ash was cut into a soft page boy style. Looking at her I realised that she was shivering, from my cold skin I would of guessed, so reaching behind me I gathered up a thick, soft mahogany blanket and draped it across her shoulders and body shifting her to wrap her fully in its warmer embrace, as I did so I leaned back into the comfort of the sofa in a human gesture of relaxation, while not completely pointless for me I did more so to keep the child from noticing the stillness with which I held myself. Fully relaxed into the back of the sofa I shifted her on my lap to give more comfort.

She was a curious little thing, all bright eyes and sun healthy skin. In those eyes was a lingering fear and unease but rapidly growing and overpowering them was a driving….. curiosity and wonder. Humm how peculiar. As a human and more so a child she should have been uncomfortable, afraid, have a very primal fear of the predator lurking beneath my skin, very few humans aren't in some way aware of how dangerous a creature I am. Even though there aren't fangs and wild eyes, ready and more than willing to tear them to pieces, showing they all instinctively know that I am not to be trifled with.

She should have been crying by now or at the very least trying to inch away. But there she sat on my lap as if she were at home being cradled by her father, staring in wonder, with curiosity burning in her eyes, little hesitant innocent hands coming to reach and play with the lapels of my jacket, to touch me, my skin. Those eyes of hers, they were telling me that one day she was going to be trouble, to any and all who met her.

I shifted in the chair, moving my hands to lay against my stomach and her wandering hands slipped from my jacket, her hands instantly set course to touch me again as if I were a favoured toy, a small bemused smile tugged at the corners of my lips, this child was beginning to fascinate me as I so obviously did her. She reached and touched my jacket once more, an odd sort of fond pat. The smile grew.

The child glanced up at my face and spotted my smile, a mirror began on her own, little dimples many would deem cute. Her exploration moved from my jacket and shirt to my hands, stroking the skin of my inner wrists, a gesture that not many could ever get away with as the more delicate skin was covering the life blood that sustained me, one of the ultimate gestures of trust in the vampire world and it's a child, what does that say about me?, then moving on to my fingers.

She was making more noises of interest and fascination, each time she spotted a new patch of skin or traced a scar. Looking at my hands I couldn't see what she so obviously saw, all I saw was hands, used to bring death or pleasure, I was undeniably skilled at both, many can attest to that, a self-satisfied grin resting on my lips. I saw the stains of deeds that would follow me until the final sleep of my eternity, the grin faded but the smile remained. Such an inquisitive child and still no fear in her.

She grew more eager to reach more of the skin that amazed her so, reaching longer, her nightgown sleeves rode up and I saw the beginnings of a mottled bruise along her fore arm, I moved my hands from beneath her own and they hovered above the skin, silently asking permission, asking permission from a child? A derisive snort wanted to escape but I kept it locked in my throat. How many would laugh at the infamous Konstantin? But she hadn't cried so far and I wanted to keep it that way, she stilled her reaching fingers and permitted me to see.

I moved and lightly grasped the silky material, dragging it back of her arm, the more I saw the more defined the shapes of the bruises became. The amused smile froze on my face and faded away. They formed rapidly blackening bands and one ended in a hand, fingers splayed across the vulnerable skin there. Mick had, entirely without intention of harm I was sure, bruised the girl but still something in me still sat up and snarled.

As a vampire, the state of humans in general, didn't really affect me, whether they were bruised and broken, covered in vomit and other bodily fluids or singing gleefully. But in my 400 plus years of existence I had never intentionally or unintentionally injured a child or any truly young one, even as a fledgling reeling from instinct and hunger and so much newness I drew an unconscious line at children, something about seeing them broken and twisted never appealed to me or my beast. Their screams and whimpers of pain always brought my beast under control again even from the wildest of rages.

I felt my eyes bleed into silver and my fangs elongate, something I had, had control over from the very beginning, bugger, it all goes downhill from here, and she gasped, here came the screaming and whimpering, a normal human reaction when faced with something so truly alien. My eyes providing solid proof that I was truly not human, no matter what my countenance showed.

But as I looked at her she lifted her small fingers from my jacket, small lips still parted, and towards my eyes. I stared at her fingers inching closer to my eyes, wary that they may go from exploring to poking in an instant, children could be so fickle, and seemingly without my permission the small smile crept back on to my face. She was still completely relaxed. Bemused at her seeming lack of survival instincts I let her continue with her mission, any other child I was sure would have burst into tears or started screaming by now, curious little thing, her short arms reached their limits so she shuffled closer, a little palm colliding gently with my cheek, at this she finally tensed hand jerking back a little, but as her wide baby blues flicked to my face a quick quirk of my lips calmed her and the tension vanished.

Huh, as amusement warmed me, not so shamelessly bold after all. Her hand slowly rested on my cheek again she let out quiet noises of interest and wonder again, the warmth from her hands seemed to burn me with its heat compared with the lack of it in my own. Her eyes sparkled with surprized joy and her questing fingertips grew bolder still, more unrestrained. I could only wonder what quirk of nature made this child before me unafraid, wondering not crying, exploring not running. It was an experience, to say the least.

My eyes locked onto the child before me, I heard Mick shakily stand and shuffle of towards the door, slow unsteady steps, I didn't need to get any help for him, even in a near catatonic state he knew were everything was and he'd been in worse states, thanks to his white knight syndrome, here before and still managed to get around. If not I'd send security to round him up in a few hours, he couldn't do much damage, to himself or the furniture in his state. This child was a puzzle and like all good puzzles, needed to be solved.

I glanced towards the mantle, searching for the antique clock there, 3:37 in the morning; I flicked my gaze back to the child in my lap, she let out a little mewling yawn, for a human she was rather…. Adorable. I could see that she was tired, the fire in her eyes a little dulled and her eyelids fluttered often only to snap back open. Funny how she seemed so awake and alive a few minutes ago and now she can barely keep her eyes open. The exploring hands still attempted to continue with their now favourite past time but sleep was draining the strength from her little form, as her lids covered her eyes longer and longer each time they closed and her little arms were tucked into her body, it occurred to me that I didn't even know the humans name.

"Little human, what's your name?" I asked softly, the girl was nearly asleep. I wrapped her more securely in her blankets and snuggled her more deeply in them, she let out a soft sound of contentment. I thought that she has well and truly fallen asleep, her heart was slow and her body completely lax. From the depths of fabric came a tiny sleepy whisper "Beth".


A/N Will be adding chapters in the future but real life may have something to say about that. See what happens, live long and prosper.