::PART ONE::

He had to understand Amelie's plans. It was a must, in order to control her and all that she represented. The problem lied within the dim-lit, cluttered lab where Oliver stood, an ancient journal in his leather-bound hands.

He was dressed to intimidate, which meant 'Caution: Certain Death Ahead' to most people who crossed his path from a distance. His sharp features were contorted in concentration as he scanned each delicate page, then loosened as he tossed it aside.

For one thing, he considered it almost impossible to uncover a secret with so much useless equipment around. Not to mention everything else consisted of unusual items and battered books, so there wasn't a damn thing that stood out more than the rest. With a displeasured sigh, he seated himself in Myrnin's chair, turned on an oil lamp – which deserved an eye roll, because it was outdated – and searched the drawers. For another…

"What in the world is this?" He mumbled with some interest. The numerous empty containers scattered in the top drawer had caught his attention. Seconds later, Oliver was forced to scrunch his nose in distaste as the intense scent of bitter strawberries wafted into the air. He snatched one that was unopened, then shut the drawer with unintentional force. Whatever was on top had made peace with the floor – breakable objects included.

Oliver cursed under his breath in alarm. Not that he cared at all about his most hated rival's belongings. It was a common reaction, and nothing more. He dismissed it without consideration and leaned forward in the chair, his position more comfortable-but-aware. Should someone be around to catch him, he'd be too easy… or so it would seem. It was a simple precaution, at the moment.

Oliver held the container up to the light. The deception in his warm eyes increased, so much that it made him seem all the more inhuman. He studied its contents closer: red crystals, almost in a powdered form. How odd. He placed it down, tried to open it, but stopped once he sensed another prescence in the room.

"You're not welcome here." Oliver winced at the sound, although his demeanor created more intimidation than normal. He reached into his pocket and touched his cell phone… which was where the sound had come from. He glanced behind him, noticed the holographic Victorian woman, and did well to hide his surprise. "You're Ada. Correct?" She didn't answer. Some people are so impolite. He thought with an unpleasant touch in his sharp, cold face. Oliver rotated the container in his hand, then held it out to the side a bit so she could see. "What is this?" He questioned in the same smooth tone, but it was hard to miss the harsh demand hidden underneath. Ada didn't dissapoint; her face contorted in bitter contempt. Clearly, someone doesn't appreciate orders. To be honest, he was surprised that she answered this time:

"Myrnin's medication," She snapped through his cell phone, then made it vibrate in irritation. Oliver placed the container on the table, and with one hand pulled it out and silenced it. He stared at the woman hard. It was sensible that she could do that; She was Morganville's powerhouse. But that had little to do with his interests at the moment.

His lips twitched into a smile. What was he talking about? This was it. Ada was the secret. Control her, and he could annihilate his enemies. But he had to locate where the fool had her hidden. That could be a problem. "Did you hear me? Leave!" She shouted, which caused his phone to short-circuit. Oliver bared his teeth at her, and she shut her mouth in terror. He was done messing around. With much resignation, she phased through him, then hesitated with a smirk and laughed as she dissapeared.

What in hell was that about? He rose and stored the container in his pocket, scanned the room and rested his attention on something that had caught his interest. There beneath a shattered tube - no more than inches from where he stood - was a key. Could that be any more suspicious?

In the end, he snatched it, searched around, and located its door. Perhaps this will lead me to Ada… or her master. Myrnin couldn't do much to harm him, with or without bars. So he chanced it. He twisted the knob and entered a dark room. It had an ancient, almost rotten smell. The moment he was through the door, it slammed behind him, and metal bars rattled around him in sync with murderous screams. Ah, so this is where she contains them, Oliver thought as he stood a distance from harm. The abandoned prison across town. Inside the cells were vampires that were too violent and ill to be let loose. But he didn't believe in the whole disease nonsense for a second.

There was a light at the end, which indicated Myrnin's cell. He strode in that direction and dismissed all attempts to snatch him closer to the bars on either side. Oliver narrowed his eyes, then widened them in astonishment as he came to stand a distance from the last cell. How had he not noticed it sooner?

Myrnin was more insane than he'd thought possible. For one thing, that nightshirt was in fact a dress. For another, he was staring at his reflection on the TV screen and mumbling his ABCs. Oliver stood there a moment, then walked away without a sound in the direction he'd come from. Obviously, this isn't where I wanted to be. From his silence, he could tell the fool hadn't noticed him there.

Or so he thought…

"Going so soon?" Myrnin purred from behind him. Behind him. How the hell did he get out? He turned around and bared his fangs at him in a silent threat. But the ancient bloodsucker did nothing but smile, secretive and cruel. Myrnin lashed out at him, and Oliver nearly had teeth in his throat before he could so much as react. He forced him into the arms of an unstable inmate, but Myrnin tore loose with ease. He launched himself on the other man, and the two continued their brutal struggle.

"Enough!" Oliver hissed as he pinned Myrnin to the wall, a wooden stake – supposedly Claire's – held threateningly close to his chest. His hair was matted, and beads of sweat and blood coated his face. He stared hard with hostile intimidation, his teeth bared. "I don't know how you escaped," He began in a hushed tone, then remembered something and smirked, "But I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." With this, he snatched the medicine from his pocket and held it in one hand. He frowned. It was neon green.

Myrnin hadn't made a sound. He seemed resigned to be in his position, with the man he hated inches from him. But for some reason, that fact alone had melted his demeanor into something… seductive. His eyes watched the blood trickle at the corner of Oliver's lips, with so much want that it made him contort his face in disgust.

"Take this. Now," Oliver commanded as he held out the medication. He pressed his weapon into Myrnin's chest and made a puncture wound, which should be a clear warning that he wasn't messing around. The other man continued to watch him with hooded eyes, as though he wasn't listening. He hesitated, and a mischevious smile dominated his face as he poured all the medication into his palm. Oliver waited. Once he'd licked it clean, he released him, but still clutched the stake in one hand. For a second, there was something in Myrnin that he couldn't describe – something that alarmed him.

But it was too late.

Myrnin forced him into a corner in an unseen motion, closed in… and crushed his lips into his. Oliver's eyes widened. He gasped in shock, softening his mouth under the kiss; a momentary weakness that allowed his mouth to be forced open. It all made sense in that short time span of about ten seconds. He understood Myrnin's intentions, and could do nothing to stop it. Nothing at all. Their tongues met, and the disgust that had risen inside him doubled. He tried to turn his head to the side, but the taste of medicine hit him full force. Don't swallow, his conscience warned. But something buried beneath his common sense told him otherwise. I'll murder him in cold blood if this continues. What harm could it do? Oliver snarled and bit down on the intruder's tongue. Myrnin whined in pain, but it did little more than aggravate him. He snatched the stake from Oliver's much loosened grip and held it threateningly to his chest.

Wonderful. Now he had no choice but to listen to his instinct.

Oliver swallowed hard, made sure his attacker noticed, then forced him backward with all his might. The older vampire didn't resist and slid the entire distance from the portal to his cell. He scrambled to his feet, more sane now than ever, confused, watching…waiting. But for what?

The answer came to him in the form of uncontrollable warmth. His entire world was ten times sharper than normal, not to mention he seemed much more sensitive to emotions. At the moment, he felt… happy. Oliver stared across the room at his nemesis, subconsciously touching his soft, swollen, tingling lips. Before he could so much as begin to understand this new sensation, Myrnin was no more than a foot from his face.

"How did you get in here?" He demanded, his tone much more rational than it had been earlier. Oliver continued to stare at him, fighting a smile. The drugs did this… made him stable… but me? He hadn't the slightest idea what it had done, but he wasn't himself. Not at all. For one thing, his hormones were out of control, and his mind was so at ease he could hardly use it. "Nevermind that," Oliver snapped, his face conflicted in both desire and contempt, "I can't –"

Myrnin leaned in a bit, intent on the words he would never hear.

Never, because in that moment he was forced into an intimate embrace. Without hesitation, Oliver crushed their lips together in desperation, unable to control his actions. Each touch was heaven to him in this state. So even had he been able to stop this…

No. He hated Myrnin!

Oliver bit his own tongue to hold back a growl, then managed to release the other man and put some distance between them with more regret than he felt. Why didn't he resist? Myrnin was rigid, his eyes wide in astonishment. Oliver snorted. Oh.