This Series was originally published at 6DegreesofAleOloughlin dot com as well as MoonlightFreshies dot com in May of 2011.
This story came about when I had just gotten to the end of "what could I do with Mick St John?" within my own universe.
In my own land I am an Alternative Universe Moonlight writer, so going from that you can tell this will not be a canonesque Moonlight fanfic.
I recommend you get acquainted with The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, a true story about a man in a "locked in state".
Dedicated to the one and the only "Sparkly Bird"
The old man sat, pensive, gaping at the moon. The blue white orb sat heavy and contented in the indigo sky, wafts of cotton candy clouds moseyed across the man in the moon. He caught the sight of his hands in the moonlight, thin skinned, liver spotted with bruises he could not recollect. What day was it? When he wasn't waiting for her, he spent his time thinking about that young man.
Los Angeles, 1963
Only love, can make it rain, the way the beach is kissed by the sea.
Only love, can make it rain, like the sweat of lovers laying in the fields.
Love, Reign o'er me. Love, Reign o'er me, Reign o'er me Reign o'er me.
I knew only love could move mountains, launch armadas, change lives.
My life had been changed, by my love for a woman who grossly misrepresented her existence. Now my steps ate up the pavement as I mulled the next segment of my life. Long strides had taken me to JK Ventures, to chat up Josef before "dinner". What can you do when you're a vampire, a hugely dysfunctional vampire?
Josef had drawn me into a web of friendship so thin and invisible it could have been spider silk. From the moment Coraline spun me off like a top, Josef had nurtured my vampire nature or at least gave it his best try. Too bad, my human nature bubbled to the top, indomitable.
"What does not kill you…?" Josef intoned.
"Makes you severely pissed off" I cut, my heart twisted like a sopping dishrag, tossed on the drain board.
"Why do you think Reno is so popular? Divorce, since the dawn of . . . . . Reno . . . . . it's been the place to go when it's time to make the break." Josef seemed choked for words, he wasn't glib about me leaving Coraline, he wanted to express that a hurtful job could be done with an injection of pleasure. "You have a long time to feel jerked, Mick. Take a little trip"
"So, I take a breeze to Reno, then what?" I flipped the key chain of my new purchase, a bottle green Mercedes Convertible. It was my reward for not killing my wife, the woman who made me the monster I am.
"If you could on your way back, I've got a little task. Could you be a guardian angel for a couple of days?" Josef inquired, posing behind the bar, prepared perhaps for a flying object.
"What now?" I asked, attempting to mix reticence and humor.
"Got a business associate, his lovely daughter, she needs an escort for a couple of days while Victor and I do a little business in Vegas"
My expression turned to interest. "Family?"
"No, mortal….and Dawn, well she's a flower of British beauty" Josef's eyes softened, admiration for this little British flower gleaming in his eyes.
"So, I swing east for a d.i.v.o.r.c.e, then when I'm footloose and fancy free…I get to babysit"
Josef flashed directly behind to grasp my shoulders, his lips near my ear, "All daughters aren't in rumba panties" then in a flash he was back to the book case, peeling a leather-bound book from the shelf, "Here she is, Lady Dawn". The Book of Peerage revealed a Debut photo of a comely young thing, delicate fingers wrapped around the arm bouquet of long stem red roses. Those slender arms rose to meet at delicate shoulders where waves of hair rested. Eyes bright, dimples, pleasant lips caught up in a Mona Lisa smile.
"Hello, hello….never knew I'd look forward to Dawn quite like this…" I whistled as I held the book closer.
"So, you're in?" Josef's laughter rose the closer I drew the book to my face.
Only love, Can bring the rain that makes you yearn to the sky.
Only love, Can bring the rain that falls like tears from on high.
I wanted to cry, that wouldn't have sat right with my Dad, so I didn't. I just bucked it up and got on the airplane with a second valise for the side job in Las Vegas. I had already spent 11 years ricocheting between Coraline and Josef; I should have been prepared for the big split. Looks like Josef got custody of me. I ran my hand over my jacket pocket, all the paperwork I needed for the divorce were there just as they had been the last 6 times I had fingered them.
I was disappointed with the process, going into the arrangement I got a blessing and a "You may kiss the bride" down the aisle; all I got here was a wad of papers and a chance to write a check. Again.
I guess the Kostan limo picking me up outside was my victory lap to Vegas' "Stardust" hotel.
"Mr. St. John" the doorman recognized the burgundy limo and I braced for whatever the limo inferred in terms of my expected behavior. Josef had kept a small suite here since the place opened a few years back.
Love, Reign o'er me. Love, Reign o'er me, o'er me.
I knew I'd have my hands full; keeping the family secret while I kept tabs on a British lovely AND behaved myself. Why had I said "yes"?
The elevator opened to the suite, a proper British butler replacing the flashy dressed hotel employee. "Mr. St. John" his white glove directed me to the sofa area facing the panoramic window. My shoes clicked on the marble and I thought . . . this place is too loud for vampire hearing. I caught the anxious intake of air from the human hidden by the tall wing chair. I froze.
"Hello" I sent out the greeting, hesitant to go further. A deep breath and I heard the swish of hair and nylons as she raised, her hands resting on the chair back, as if to tether her to ground. After all…..she was an angel.
"Hello, I'm remiss in my manners, Mr. St John, welcome" She extended that ivory hand tentatively as if she wondered if I would shake a woman's hand, "I am Lady Dawn Hallowell"
I forgot any British protocol I knew and caught her fingertips and bowed slightly, Josef would have kissed her hand and scented her with the pretense of courtly manners, I didn't.
"Call me Mick" I offered, not wanting to look like her body guard.
"Mick" the single syllable sang from her lips. You could have knocked me over with a breeze. We stood, eyes locked and hands still joined, neither realized it until Jeeves, or whatever his name was appeared.
"Refreshments are served, Lady Dawn" a bow and Jeeves was gone. The guy had near vamp reflexes.
"Will you join me?" She lifted those delicate fingers from my cold hand and glided past me. The scent of Yardley Lavender trailed, enticing me to follow her anywhere.
"Mr. Kostan tells me you are on a special diet, I hope this meets with your sensibilities" Lady Dawn gestured to an opaque decanter and a ruby glass goblet. OK, the secret's out. I was ready to defer refreshments, feign allergies. What else was she going to offer me?
I poured my own as she slathered clotted crème over the lemon poppy seed scones, as she topped it with strawberry preserves and popped a bite into her mouth I thought of plundering those lips and tasting her.
I wanted to talk, yet conversation locked inside me. How long had it been since I had a conversation? My vocalizations had been limited to debates with Josef over Blond vs. Redhead and the obvious blunt approvals as a redhead provided me comfort and succor.
I hadn't done more than read a newspaper in years, and the radio was for baseball games. Lady Dawn caught me, I had zoned out, peering at the sunset over the gaudy lights on the strip.
"Are you in the film industry?" Lady Dawn politely asked, unaware of what silver emulsion did with a vampire's image.
"No" I smirked, thinking what my image would be on the silver screen. Her intentions were to have a civil conversation while I thought my interactions would be limited to following her and grimacing at the Lotharios in her path. Then I thought perhaps I was being rude, Mom just wouldn't be proud of her Mickey, "I am between jobs right now". There I said it. I had come back from the war, made music, put the make on Coraline and then she put the "make" on me. Since being turned I hadn't been much more than arm candy.
"Do you gamble, Mr. St John?" She asked, her pert nose just above the tea cup enjoying the Earl Grey's steaming scent.
"Mick, call me Mick, every day" I glibly replied then it all became a blur even for me.
"Call you Mick every day?" A confused expression danced across her sweet lips and spread to her bright eyes.
"No, I meant, I gamble everyday" Now we were both confused.
The misunderstanding did not last long; the Lady liked moonlit rides with the rental's top down out to the desert to watch the glow of the strip against the night sky. Midnights, I'd stand by the pool looking like Secret Service as she took graceful strokes in her Esther Williams one piece suit until she lost count of the laps. She slept past two every day, preferring the relative cool of the afternoon and night to the scorching daylight. She shared her volumes of Mike Hammer, making pointed jabs at the nature of P.I.'s, my budding career unknown to her.
When I got the call that Josef needed another couple days I didn't quibble. By the fifth evening she had me in the palm of her genteel hand, literally. That night we wrapped around 3:00am, an arm full of woman thrown over my shoulder as she giggled.
"Don't leave me, Mick," Lady Dawn whispered as I stood her up to unlock the door. She was rumpled angora and silk, I felt like raveled burlap.
"You know I've got a place on the other end of the suite" I nodded, kicking the door open as I swept her up to get her into the suite. Her hands encompassed my head and urged my face toward hers; I stiffened in more places than one. I drew away, thinking I was the stronger one here, then my head hit the wall and she pressed me, right on the lips. My mind ran with the idea of a kiss…. We shared the abandon of two people who had drank and danced too much.
On the dry and dusty road, the nights we spend apart alone.
I need to get back home to cool, cool rain.
I can't sleep and I lay and I think, the night is hot and black as ink.
Oh God, I need a drink of cool, cool rain.
We were two parts of a whole that had been separated in shipping from the factory. She caught the back of my jacket as I turned from dropping her on the bed and I was as good as done.
"I'm your body guard, not your body inspector" I jested as she peeled off her silky blouse, an invitation I could not misconstrue.
"Then stay here and guard me, from ghoulies and beasties and things that go bump in the night" she purred, locking eyes with me.
"What if I am one of those things?" It funny to explain it, she was not Freshie material, yet all I wanted to do was feast on all that was not blood…the supple flesh of her thighs, the arch of her instep, the crook of her elbow. I wasn't thirsting for blood I was thirsting for a connection.
So there she lay, the vision of refinement, throwing open her "palace gates" for me, a recently divorced, musician, Army Veteran flunky. In 1963 did they even worry about Veterans? Probably not….. Better drop that from my pity list.
"The better to know their plan of attack . . . . . at least you're on my side" She rolled over and unclipped her brassiere with two fingers; it fell from her breasts and celebrated their freedom as they swung with her laughter. She rolled over, propped on her elbows and kicked her pink painted toes at me, then I caught the sight of the dimples on the rise of her ass and I was a goner.
The bed bounced with my landing, and I was over her so quickly she squealed, but not for the last time. She was ripping at the buttons on my Van Heusen as I fought my trousers, Lady Dawn took over. She slid down and surged her cheek to my excited flesh, then turned to press an awed kiss along the pulsing vein.
I gasped in speechless awe, a rumble mounting when she began to kiss her way upward, along that vein. Held tightly in her hand, I surged and throbbed beneath her lips, the cool satiny skin held tight over a straining core of iron.
"oh, oh, ahhhhhhh..." I moaned, lost for words. Part of me needed more, part of me retreated. The fixed look on Lady Dawn's face said "lay back", so I did. She glanced upward to see my head thrown back on the pillow, my hands in claws, grasping and releasing the sheets above my head with an all-out, full tilt boogie rhythm.
Was there a penalty for boinking an official "LADY"? It didn't matter, though; Lady Dawn had no intention of stopping. She was used to erudite white bread and action that would have been over within minutes. When her lips reached my broad rim, she stopped for an instant and flicked just beneath it, on the underside of my shaft, loving the taste of me, there, on that tender spot, my "go" button. It was all I could do to writhe in rhythm with her.
She let her tongue follow my lead, licking and kissing up and down my straining length as I moved, then nipping lightly at my rim with her teeth I huffed. Halted, muscles tensing so powerfully she thought she'd gone too far, so far, she had not seen the vampire come out to play – this was about to draw the vampire right out of me.
I bucked under her teeth, letting her draw me deep into her hot mouth. Her lips tightened, where on earth does a "Lady" learn to do this? I fell back to the bed, body trembling sharing a budding need that flooded us both. I muttered lowly, the words almost faint from the groans filling my throat. She was fueled by the sounds I made, the low murmurs and thrashing motions that told her so clearly of the pleasure she gave me.
Dawn's hands, her mouth, her body brought me all this ecstasy and she had no idea what she had invited out to play. The passion burned so bright I felt scorched with her heat. She drew back, her hand still holding me tight, needing to see me laid out with passion.
I was her magnificent vampire, fangs descended, body long and taut with tensing, arching muscles. The massively unnatural power there for her to capture, to control with two gentle hands and two luscious lips. Whether you focused on the natural or supernatural nature of all that was bedding a vampire, this was a singular night for this blushing rose and an emancipating night for me. I ate up the sight of her delicate skin was alabaster in the dim, warm light, and coated with an erotic perspiration as sensual as the tension in the room.
Lady Dawn's long waves of hair shined in the dancing lights peeking into the room, the tendrils around her face darkened with sweat from our passion's fever. The electricity encompassed us both, she was magnificent and I thought again, unable to come up with an adjective that more perfectly defined her. Absolutely irresistible, damn, she had my total attention.
Lady Dawn's eyes drift up my body until they met mine, yet her hands stayed tight riding that steely length. Holding my straining erection outward and up, we shared a ribald grin as I felt the vein throbbing.
My mouth hung open as I panted loudly, gasping in lungfuls of air in gulping draughts. I ate up the sight of her hand wrapped around me, small by comparison, her face just beyond. I saw her cheeks red and hot and tight, desire drawing hard planes and angles there that told me of her need. Our eyes met, both heavy-lidded, speaking where words could not.
Then she read my mind…Her tongue peeked out to wet her pink lips parched by the arid heat they created. I saw it, and groaned, my erection surging in her hand, relieved I didn't have to breathe. I caught the feeling of her hair brushing my thighs and knew she had thrown her head back…..I was consumed by her verve, her fire. Her throat was arched and bare to my hungry gaze, her eyes slits gazing through dark, heavy lashes. When her tongue slipped out once more, I drew in a heavy breath, my stiff cock swelling in her fingers yet again. She stayed there for a moment, a silent scene of her soul's gift.
Did she know how totally she unnerved me? "L. .A. .D. .Y . . . .D a w n" I cried.
"I do not require such a formal title when we're…..you know" Her eyes glittered with humor, right before I gasped at the sight of her taking me between her luscious lips.
Finally her lips pursed closed and pressed lightly, tenderly, upon the very tip. She held me there, with the sweetest of touches, our eyes still locked while I drew in breath after ragged breath, trying urgently to stay still so that I wouldn't lose one moment of that idyllic contact.
When her tongue flicked out into the tiny slit at the tip, within her enclosed lips, she had me arched up off the bed, unable to control myself. Where were we headed? Could I explain a doublewide freezer to the English peerage? As inventive as Lady Dawn seemed to be….could she?
She held me tight, not deepening that erotic kiss, until I fell back to the sheets again. Only then did she begin to slowly slide her lips down over me. Softly, purposefully, she let her lips open upon, her tongue swirling over each incremental section taken in, until her lips were pressed tight to the rim. She held just my head enclosed, and began to suck softly, licking lightly over the tender slit at the pinnacle.
She listened to my moans, our eyes locked as I blinked rapidly, legs twitching as they lay alongside her body. She was nestled within my thighs, and now, with her mouth holding me at last, her hand left my cock until I felt both gripped my hips, stroking and fondling my flanks.
She continued to mouth my throbbing flesh, her touch barely more than what had been before, but now she held the sensitive head enclosed completely, she drew an unexpected response. A snarling gasp escaped me, as my fangs fully extended. My eyes silvered over as she drew on, and my hand, up until this point held far - and safely - away, swiftly descended to clasp her shoulders in a tenderly tight grip.
I was dancing on the razor's edge and Dawn wanted to take more, to give me more – I had to let go. I drew my wrist to my own fangs and drew blood.
"No, Mick, allow me" and she slid over me, silk over iron. I stared as she rode me, breasts so high and firm; her beauty mystified me as much as her boundless energy. I held her hips and we rolled like waves on the Pacific.
Love, Reign o'er me, over me ,over me ..
Love, Reign o'er me, Reign o'er me, Reign o'er me.
It was about that dancing. From her alacrity at her "skills" it was always about dancing thru her life in the moonlight, in the daylight. I was a vapor here for just so long and she would work her magic to catch and hold me even if it was with her hands, her mouth, and her sweet, sweet thighs.
I viewed her pink flesh strangling my cock as she rose and fell, propelling her weight with those luscious thighs, her tight silk constricting me until her orgasm joined with mine. Her whimpering grew to a crescendo as I bit my own self and we fell to boundless depths, together possessed by the tingling flesh of sensual abandon.
I caught Lady Dawn as she fell to my chest, she nearly sizzled with warmth and I treasured those almost human moments of peace and quiet. I stroked the dewy ringlets at her hairline and ogled her flesh as she conformed to my side, held tight with my right arm.
The sky shrieked with flashes of lightning against the breaking indigo – she nestled closer at the sound of the thunder and words would have ruined the moment. She was as much a force of nature as the light show in the sky.
"Mick, you make my blood run hot" she whispered as her finger circled the whirls of the hair on my chest, I returned the favor and watched her nipple pebble in response.
"And you, you….." I was lost for words…."you make me dizzier than 30 year old scotch". Damn, I was a slaggard in the pillow talk department. That night, she slept in my arms.
It was not a world I could face sustaining, it was a stage I would be moving thru. I knew very soon my size 10.5's would be out from under her bed and pointed toward LA. I carefully slid out from under her zaftig form and headed for the freezer thoughtfully hidden behind a faux marble wall.
What about the emotionally suffocating times between her bare feet entwined alongside mine? It was about my memories of futile years before I met her, before I was her greatest dream.
The moment when she was most free, unencumbered by the binding golden chords of "peerage" and duty she was most removed from whoever she was or would be or might be. In those moments we were lovers lost in a no man's land. That night I watched Lady Dawn flit from window to window in so much abandonment that no other world but this might exist. The neon danced, flashing shadows on her skin and her lustrous light brown hair.
"What's on our dance card tonight?" she queried.
Her humanity made her more stunning than any Goddess on the club stage. Dawn would regard the ground we were about to cover in our nightly festivities, halt and grin, wide eyed and knowing, aware I was her audience and playing on it.
"Ladies' choice" I deferred to the tourist, I could always beg a trip back from Josef. The fire in my belly was that crazed sensation when love was an emerging ache, a terrible burn that had a name, Lady Dawn. Where silk sheets and caresses meant more to me than the pretense of breathing, meant more than thinking, went as deep as wounded wondering what I would be when her father spirited her home to the UK.
In the silence, she spoke, to fill what could never be filled, our eyes could meet and the conversation between us was a language which brooked through our mouths, our moving hands, and agreeable bodies. What passed between us was the stuff of dreams, of nightmares, of worlds untold, between her reality and my past hell. It was a fantasy to be overlooked for the memory of home.
It was no surprise when she snaked her arms around my waist. On my body there must be some spot, some sacred finger print, untouched, unforgotten, perfect and pleasant and pleasing, my heart never having forgotten her girlish laughter.
"Is this your idea of tonight?" I wanted to erect a fence between us and the outside. The record player's snap and pop ran with her quickening heartbeat. And when the music stopped, her limpid eyes, under layers of thick lashes, had sought mine. That had been obvious from the moment she looked up from my chest, into my face, so cold and dark. From her expression she was taking memories for enjoying in the future in the sharp shadows of England.
"Lady Dawn, your Father awaits you in his suite" I hadn't quite gotten used to the hired help showing up at a split second, even with vampire senses it was abrupt when "Jeeves" pushed open the double doors and made his brusque announcement.
In her eyes, my eyes, a raging storm brewed. She unfolded from my arms and trailed a delicate finger to catch my hand.
"Alone", "Jeeves" snapped, as if he was running the show. I stopped mid step and retracted my hand, feeling foolish I ran my thumb over my bottom lip, inspected the pattern of the marble mosaic in the floor.
"I'll wait here" I gestured to the sofa and walked to flip the record over. As least I had Miles Davis to keep me company.
I listened to side "A", flipped to side "B" and still no sign of Lady Dawn. 9:48pm and I was alone, pacing the length of the window. Just as I flipped thru the record collection for a second platter, I heard the clip, clip, clip of Jeeves' heels.
"Mr. St John, Lady Dawn regrets she is unable to keep her evening's commitments. Lord Hallowell thanks you for your devotion to the Lady's safety and in no long in need of your services" The bastard stood tall, effete as he offered the hotel envelope to me. I stood there, hands resolutely at my side as if not accepting the envelope meant a rebuke of the situation.
I knew it as good as I was standing here, Daddy had caught wind of the events of the last week and he was putting his highhanded kibosh on me and Dawn.
"I need to say good-bye" I still didn't accept the envelope.
"The Lady sends her regrets for her hasty departure" His dry delivery galled me. I scented his pleasure at his power over the situation.
Then without any compunction I simply lifted the British peckerwood by his throat and held him up against the wall. Beside the full bladder, the dork emptied what little brain he held between his jug ears.
"Lady Dawn is leaving via the kitchen exit, along with Lord Hallowell, right now" He shivered as he felt the chill of his reduced blood flow, and I dropped him to beat feet out of there. Down the hall, 21 flights of stairs and out the back service entrance.. .. just in time to see the limousine burn rubber out the driveway.
One part Marlon Brando, one part Lawrence of Arabia, I scooped up the Honda Bentley motorcycle tucked in the corner of the kitchen parking lot and followed the limo. The off-road scenery flew by and sadly the airport was so close, I didn't have miles to skirt close and intimidate them to pull over for a love sick skuzz.
Then the limo slowed and turned to the "Private Jet" entry, I banked steep and swung the bike alongside Lord Hallowell's door, jumped over the roof to pull open Lady Dawn's door.
My undead heart sunk at the sight, a mousy dude clutching a clipboard centered in the back seat, alone…... he squinted at me as we watched the small jet ascend into the night air.
"Mr. St. John? This is for you" he knew I was St John, who else would steal a motorcycle to follow an escaping limo? I accepted the crisp, heavily scented envelope.
"Dear Mick:
Daddy was not amused. I am at a loss here; I'm bound by so many other tethers than just my affection for you.
If time is such a malleable thing for a being like you, can you see it in your heart to remember this week? Would you give me 3 years to fulfill my domestic obligations?
Knowing you are newly divorced, this gives us an amenable period of time to connect on other levels.
All my love,
L. Dawn."
I scented the sadness, her resolution at being forced into leaving so I folded the notecard and slid it inside my shirt pocket.
"I'm sorry for my parking job" it was all I could say as I returned to the purloined cycle and kicked it into gear to return to the hotel. The suite was empty. All of the solitude was exemplified by the lonely sound of the turntable spinning as the needle skipped. I gathered my valise and summoned the chauffer who drove me to my week of reckoning.
1963, it was quite a year so far.