Dancing with Dragons
Beca was on her way back from her desk job. Ironically, an important job in the city. At this time of night, only partygoers and assholes roamed the street, and the people in this particular street were definitely of the last category. So it wasn't much of a surprise when a pick-up truck slowed down to match her walking speed.
"Hey baby, you wanna party?" the driver asked through his open window, then added in a hushed voice, "Y'know, drugs." He giggled, obviously checking Beca out from underneath a mop of dirty blond hair, even though she was dressed in comfortable clothes and an unsuspecting looking coat. A second man was in the passenger seat, leaning forward to see who he was talking to, and a third one in the back was drinking whisky from the bottle.
It was like a bad movie scene waiting to happen.
"Go away," she answered, uninterrupted in her walk.
The scruffy blonde's eyebrows rose, and he made a vague gesture to his bros, who started getting out of the car. "Come on, babe, you don't mean that."
Beca only stopped walking when the drunk man got in her way and was grinning down at her lecherously. The bald one from the passenger seat was practically breathing down her neck.
She sighed deeply.
The drunk reached into his pants—Beca grimaced—and pulled out a pistol. Her grimace melted into a look of relief. "You change yo' mind, girl?" he slurred, waving the gun in her face.
She eyed the large weapon skeptically. "You compensating for something?"
"That sounded a lot like an invitation to me, huh, Dave?" the bald one asked from behind her, snickering.
"Sure did," the drunk agreed.
The driver looked around nervously. "Come on, guys, just throw her in the back. I think I see someone coming."
"Seriously?" Beca shot him an incredulous look. "You don't think I'm not intimidated by you chumps for a reason?" She casually glanced at the others for confirmation. "No? Never seen Buffy? Avengers?"
Dave grinned. "You sure are the chosen one, girl. Now come along, and we promise we'll be nice."
"Hurry the fuck up, Dave, someone's coming," the driver urged. He started to sweat.
Beca rolled her eyes then, and decided that enough was enough. She grabbed Dave's gun hand in a sweep that was too fast for any of them to catch, turned to point it down to his leg, and pulled the trigger. She leaned back slightly as the loud gun shot sounded and flesh and bone scattered.
"Holy shit, Dave!" the bald one screamed as Dave looked down at his leg dumbly.
Beca twirled to face the driver, casually ramming his head into the steering wheel.
The bald one's mouth fell open at the sickening crack that his buddy's nose produced. He had hardly recovered when Beca opened the door, and for a moment, he was sure she was going to steal the car and leave him alone. But no. She threw open the door with a force that should not be possible, knocking him right in the face. He blacked out to the sound of Dave's pained screams and groans.
Speaking of screams.
"You whore!" Dave yelled, holding the pistol with one hand and his leg with his other. Beca turned to face him just as he pulled up the pistol.
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you wanna do that?"
He hesitated for only a moment, but then he shook it off and scowled. "Die, bitch!"
Another thundering shot resounded.
"Okay, yeah, ow," Beca remarked dryly, looking down at the bloody hole in her chest. "Dude, I really liked this coat."
He eyed her incredulously, lowering his gun to check if he saw (and heard) correctly. It was then that he first made eye-contact with her, and he definitely wasn't ready for the murder that reflected in her eyes, despite what her airy, no-nonsense reactions implied.
Beca tilted her head, smiling a small, smug smile, before punching him across the jaw. There was another crack and she was pretty sure she accidentally broke something of his, but at least he was out.
She looked at the mess she made, shrugged, and stepped over the unconscious bodies to make her way home. Even as she walked, she let blood gather in the hole in her chest. It started forming new tissue and closed the wound almost immediately. All that remained was a hole in her dirty shirt and beloved coat.
And now she was beginning to feel the hunger.
She grumbled to herself, mentally rearranging her schedule to fit in hunting.
Beca pushed through the sea of people, not breathing to keep from smelling the stank of sweaty, horny young adults. This was why she preferred to pick up people at a library, but how many singles were actively looking for fun at a library?
She was making her way up the small stairs to the section marked off as VIP with neon letters, when she nearly jumped out of her skin and only sheer willpower kept the beast inside from panicking.
Two of the neon letters sparked rather impressively, raining down on her shoulders and another close by guest. Her very soul urged her to bolt because of the fire. Fire equaled final death, or hideous wounds that took tons of blood and days of healing.
But she managed to stay still. And when she finally recovered and found she could move her limbs again, the giant V was the only part left alight, pointing down at her.
A few patrons cheered at the unexpected fireworks.
"Fucking dump." Her flustered mutter went by unheard amongst the loud music as she approached a handsome fellow on the plush red couch. He looked out of place, as per usual. His fancy blouse and tie ensemble definitely did not match the contemporary outfits everyone else was dressed in.
He nodded his head in greeting, and gestured for her to sit down on the opposite end on the couch.
She immediately felt dirty for complying to his smarmy wishes, underneath his ever watchful eyes, perfect smile and neatly gelled hair.
Ugh.
"So how may I help you?" he asked, folding his legs and leaning an arm on the back of the couch.
"I need information," Beca said, getting to the point. She'd interacted with enough kindred to know everyone was a slimy bastard until proven otherwise.
He eyed her momentarily, keeping perfectly still. Probably to instill some sort of superiority over her, if the predatory air he was exuding was anything to go by.
She stared right back, unwilling to rise to the unspoken challenge.
"You've come to the right place," he agreed amicably, and Beca felt her previous slimy disgust resurfacing.
"What do you know about the Golconda rumors?"
He grinned, flashing perfect rows of impeccable white teeth. He smelled blackmail material. "Who's asking?"
Beca gritted her teeth, glaring at him sharply. If she told him about her interest in Golconda, in any shape or form, it would be like handing him numerous favors. She'd become his personal errand girl. He knew how to get information and how to spread it, and having word of an old, lonely vampire searching for redemption go around would issue forth so much bogus information, she could pretty much pack her bags and move to Europe. "You will only get a single favor out of me," she pressed.
"My, how presumptuous we are." He tsked a little indignantly. Still, he got down to business. "Very well," he muttered reluctantly, waving his hand as if to make her continue.
"I'm asking," she answered now that she had his word.
He raised an eyebrow in interest. "How very... illuminating."
Beca barely kept from rolling her eyes.
"Very well. Rumor is that a Gangrel elder has come into town. She may be willing to part with some wisdom." He paused as if he was recollecting more. "Rowan, I believe her name is."
"That's it?" She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Ask someone else?"
"It's all I have," he said with a small shrug. Then he leaned forwards, a greedy smile on his face. "Now for this favor we spoke of..."
Beca left the VIP area feeling almost none the wiser, having only more rumors to go on. Still, she had no time to ponder that. She needed to feed some time soon, before the beast started to stir. Having been invited to have a drink, she might as well take a look at the crowd in the club. The entire scene was a little too gothic-punk for her taste, but she was nothing if not open-minded.
She was making her way over to the bar, where she'd have a better vantage point, when greedy hands pulled her into another body. She came eye to eye with a young woman, grinning from ear to ear. Her hair shone vibrant red in the flickering lights, and was scattered with glimmering beads and feathers, but what most stood out were her almost luminous blue eyes. "Dance with me!" she yelled over the alternative music.
Beca automatically judged her to be a good score; clean, healthy, and most importantly, ready to get handsy and intimate very quickly.
Maybe a little too quickly.
Gathering her intelligence from the floor, Beca nodded a little dumbly. That didn't stop the woman from starting up a dance however, and she was scrambling to catch up.
It was when she finally adjusted to the obviously fun-orientated dance that she remembered not to look directly into the mortal's eyes. She may be able to hide her age from other vampires well, but humans were another category all together.
For a while more, she followed the woman's rather silly cues. She wasn't sure whether it was just contemporary dancing or fooling around, but it felt rather strange. Then she started doing the robot, and Beca was so caught off guard, she couldn't help but breathe a laugh. That earned her a rather spectacular smile. It was a sad thing she could only look at it from her peripheral vision.
Which was probably why the woman threw all personal boundaries to the wind, and brought a hand up to Beca's jaw, pushing her face up for some eye contact.
"Hey," she mouthed. "You okay?" Beca could vaguely hear it through the music, which was an accomplishment all of its own.
She was about to reply, but halted as she realized there was literally no negative reaction to meeting her eyes. The woman just looked at her expectantly. "Uh," Beca uttered, remember that she was supposed to say something. "Yeah." She nodded her head. "Yeah!"
The music changed to something vaguely dubstep-y, and the woman grinned some more before grabbing Beca's hands and pulling her in once again. Only this time, it was for a more sensual dance rather than the silly fun dancing from before. The woman's hips swayed enticingly, her previously luminous eyes smoothing over into a more predatory tinge as she guided Beca into following her lead.
Beca had to admit she was a little intrigued by it all. Humans were never so straightforward with her. Maybe that would allow her to be a little more unabashed than usual?
Testing this theory, she loosened the hold she had on her composure, and grasped at her hips more possessively. She smiled a wicked smile, easing into the dance with an effortless guile that came with decades of unlife. She made it no secret that she was on the hunt.
In fact, to the unsuspecting onlooker, it might even look like Beca was taking over the dance.
The woman didn't seem put off by the sudden change. She seemed quite into it, rather, if her subtle smile and enthusiasm was anything to go off.
Suddenly, her hands were on the base of Beca's neck, pulling her closer until she could talk into her ear. It was easy to hear what she was asking. "What's your name?"
Beca snapped her eyes up from the redhead's jugular to a safe spot over her shoulder, unaware they had drifted in the first place. The beast was uncharacteristically impatient with her tonight. "What's yours?" she asked right back, making sure to raise her voice over the music.
The woman drew back to send her a reprimanding look, though Beca felt anything but scolded with the way she was smirking and eyeing her like she was dinner.
The irony.
She mouthed something, but Beca couldn't make it out through the loud bass. Maybe if she'd heard, she would've been prepared for the incoming kiss. Even in her progressive mood, she didn't see it coming. Kissing her face was usually not a thing people tended to do when she first met them.
She could hardly remember when she last kissed anyone, period. Not only did she never allow anyone, but being dead kinda killed her sex drive, seeing as she had no need for reproduction anymore. All of that was replaced by the ever present hunger. That didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it anymore, but it was a buzz kill to see someone so into something that she only marginally liked.
The breath of hot air against her face spurred her into action, and Beca automatically reciprocated. For a moment, it was weird. Like playing with her food. But then it became kind of nice. She started becoming aware of how warm and alive this woman was. She could practically feel her buzzing beneath her fingertips. And whoa, she was real good with her mouth.
Shit, it was really nice.
Things became a little fuzzy from thereon. She remembered more dancing, more kisses, and eventually sneaking in a bite. And that's when shit got hella weird. The lights took on a life of their own, centering on living things. She swore she could see and feel the life essence of everything around her. It was so distracting, it must have caused gaps in her memory.
Or something.
"Come home with me," she whispered in her ear.
Beca could hardly think of an answer as she looked into actual lit up eyes.
Everything was giving off light.
"This way," she said, tugging Beca along by the hand as they exited the club. She looked back to shoot her a blinding smile.
"You seem a little out of it."
Beca looked up from her naked body, the way it shone as if bathed in holy light, blinked, then proceeded to rip her own shirt off before she straddled the irresistible woman on the bed.
Beca knew the dangers of falling asleep in a stranger's bed, but she was pretty sure she'd been drugged when she next woke up with her hand on fire.
She rolled out of the bed so fast she may have left a dust trail, wrapping her hand in the thick covers to put out the fire. Panic licked at her when she noticed the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, onto the bed, but she forced herself to stay calm in this unknown territory. There was no one else in the room and everything was quiet. Two doors that probably led to more sunlight, and a closet.
Without realizing she made the decision, she slid underneath the bed, trying to take comfort in the fact that the sunlight was blocked by the mattress and covers hanging over the side. That, and people usually didn't look underneath their bed.
It was difficult to stay awake and her body moved sluggishly during the daytime, and now was no different. Off to the side, her hand sizzled slightly and hurt like fuck.
She slipped into unconsciousness to the smell of burned flesh.
Nnnngh, I can never take my fics (too) seriously! Ergo, the title.
Anyway. I'm back! I'm still being treated for an illness, so if updates are irregular, I have legitimate reasons. If you're against that kind of thing, stop reading.
Also, this fic is based on the World of Darkness RPG (uh, is that legal?). So expect vampires, werewolves, changelings, hunters, mages, etc etc. Not ALL of it. But the possibility of it.
Obviously, weird shit happened at the end. Theories, anyone? No? Yes? Why is Beca seemingly sexing up Chloe without a sex drive? No? Takers?
Peace out yo,
Plush
ps. The favors Smarmy!Dude wanted were not sexual.