Kahrin was tossed rather unceremoniously from the club's back door, stumbling into a heap of broken-down cardboard boxes.
"Oh, c'mon now boys. We were just having a bit of fun."
She sprang easily to her feet as the bouncer slammed the door shut.
Apparently fighting was frowned upon. She rolled her eyes. She'd heard that one plenty of times.
Fighting three big men at one time who got their little feelings hurt by having their collective asses handed to them by the tiny girl was grounds for being tossed out the door. She grinned, tossing her dark hair out of face and brushing her tank top off, smugly.
It wasn't even a nice club anyhow. Whatever. She gave a shrug and turned on her wide-heeled boot and the clack it made in the alley was the only sound on the wet pavement aside from the familiar creak of her favorite leather pants. She pulled a slightly-crushed pack of cigarettes from her waistband and took the last one in her lips as she slid the silver Zippo from her tight pocket, pausing to light it in a cupped hand, inhaling in the calming feel. There had been months on end where this was the only joy she'd ever had.
She felt him behind her long before she saw him, long before he yanked the cigarette from her mouth and crumbled it in his large hand.
"Shit! That was my last one!"
"Those things are going to kill you."
Kahrin rolled her eyes. "Either they will or this job will. You're suddenly concerned with my longevity? I think you're on the wrong career path, love. Early death sentence comes with the territory, you know."
"Not if you're careful. Plus they make you stink." Carver leaned forward to kiss her, putting one hand into her hair.
She pulled back, arching her Cousland Eyebrow at him and making a face half mocking and half disgust. "Now I know your trippin' if you think you're going to be doing that." She sidestepped out of his path, pushing away the tingle in her stomach from his sudden closeness that made her feel wrong.
Sometimes she liked feeling wrong.
Carver smirked at her. "That's not what you said last night." He followed her as she continued down the alley.
"Are you buggin' or what? Look, I know it was all rock em' sock em', but that was a one-time lapse of my judgement. Don't come sniffing for a repeat performance." She rolled her eyes, hooking a thumb in her belt loops. She tapped a worn-down nail against her belt buckle.
"Not even if you begged. You've got bloody Anders Breath."
She stopped and spun around to look at him. "Excuse me, stalker boy? What, can you … people smell everything. That never stops being creepy, you know."
"Oh, yeah. Completely. All over you. Plus, I saw it. With my super keen vision."
"You followed me?" She gave him a casual shove with one hand that tossed him back into a dumpster. "Oops. Sorry." She shrugged and kept walking. "And for all your Super Vision, you didn't see shit. You're buggin' over nothing" she said over her shoulder, disappearing around the corner, picking up her pace to put distance between them. Really, she should have known he'd get clingy.
Carver dropped down from a fire escape in front of her. "Really? Huh. Looked like you were pretty chummy."
"What? I'm not allowed to talk to him now? Whatever, bro." She paused briefly, listening, then jumped up and grabbed the bottom wrung of the fire escape and swung herself up onto it.
He jumped up from the ground, following her easily. "Is that what you're calling it? I have a few different words for that. I told you a few of them yesterday."
"Look, Holmes," she turned, her nose coming level with his chest, "nothing happened, and even if it did, it's not the same, and you know it. He's different. He's … well you know. You …" She shrugged and laughed, "are sadly lacking in that department. No offense."
"Shows what you know."
She stopped, caught pulling herself up on the window ledge of the next story. "What?"
"I guess you don't know everything, now do you?" Carver leaned against the balcony and shrugged.
"Look, I'm on patrol. If you are going to continue to vague things up for me, can you at least try to be useful and tag along? Use that skulking thing you do so well?" One more bound and she was on the roof, striding along, not giving him another glance. She knew he was following her, despite how quietly he moved, as if part of the night itself.
She paused at the edge of the roof, listening, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. The night had been awfully quiet so far apart from her little stunt in the bar, and that was never a good sign. She ran a hand through her loose hair and frowned.
Well, shit. Maybe she should have stayed in prison. Well, the company in prison wasn't nearly as fun as out here, she spared a glance for ol' broody behind her. Enough of that. Everything about that was wrong. In the bizarro world in her head, though, could shit get any more weird? When was the last time she'd done anything that made a damned bit of sense?
Let's just not let that little escapade get back to Finn. He'll have an apoplexy. Again.
Carver was mumbling away about something. Whatever. He was probably still going on about what he thought he saw in the bar. She snickered to herself. She didn't realize things like him could get jealous.
God damn this was a hot mess, wasn't it. She'd been bored and, OK, sure, a bit lonely. She was sure that there was something in her fucking job description that meant she wasn't supposed to do that. Or enjoy it so fucking much. What fun was supernatural strength though, if you couldn't knock down a wall or two while having a rowdy time?
She rolled her eyes to herself and then her attention was caught by a sudden movement down below.
Kahrin gave Forehead a bit of an elbow. "You up for some fun?" She jerked her head towards the alley, then frowned at his face. "I meant the killing kind. God, C, get your head out of the gutter."
She stood up and jumped, straight down, bending her knees slightly against the impact.
Two of the bastards stopped and looked up at the sudden noise. "Move along, little girl, and we won't make you dessert." The one that spoke had blood already running down his chin.
"Well, I don't know." She cracked her neck and gave them a faux-innocent look with a tilt of her head. "Is there going to be ice cream? I could really go for some ice cream. Maybe a bit of rocky road if you have any. I am awfully hungry."
"Oh, you're mouthy."
"And you're all toothy. It works out." She slid her weapon out of the back of her pants, the familiar feeling smooth against her palm and giving her a comfortable reassurance. She gave it a spin around her fingers, smirking. The thrill of the impending fight already pumping in her ears. The darkness of the job was in her blood. She lived for the kill, and maybe someday it would kill her, but she was really all right with that.
It was part of her redemption.
Mr. Jabberjaw tossed aside the kid they had been chewing on and the poor bloke staggered a bit, catching his balance and holding his neck, a delirious shock on his face. The attacker lunged at her, his movement almost too fast to see.
Almost.
She had the stake through his chest before he had time to touch her. His friend jumped slightly as he disintegrated and blew away, just dust in the wind.
"I thought you were in prison."
"It's a good thing you don't get paid to think." She shrugged and stepped forward as he turned and ran, his prey abandoned. She could have chased him down, but she knew she didn't need to.
He was knocked back towards her promptly, sliding across the wet ground on his back, stopping just a few feet in front of her.
"I think you lost this," Carver said, seeming to have appeared from nowhere.
"Thanks! I hate it when my toys don't stay where I put them. Just makes me so cranky."
The vampire rolled over, looking up at Carver and hissing. "You! You kill your own kind?"
"What? This again?" He rolled his eyes, as if tired of explaining this for the fifty-billionth time. "Sorry to disappoint, mate. Things change. You're going to have to try to keep up."
"Now you're a lapdog for her!" the vamp laughed, mockingly.
"Hey!" Carver frowned. "Am not. I … have my own reasons. And … she's prettier than you, anyhow. Nothing personal." He stepped on the guy's chest and grabbed his head, twisting it quickly off of his shoulders, watching as he evaporated into dust.
Kahrin turned to the kid, probably no more than nineteen. He looked like he was about to be in shock. "Hey. Go home. Drink something. Preferably something stiff."
The kid blinked in disbelief, before stepping backward several steps, then turning and running.
Kahrin still had the stake in her hand when Carver walked back up to her, brushing his hands off.
"You gonna put that away now?" he chuckled a bit nervously, eyeing it.
"What? This ol' thing? Like I'd waste my best stake on you. Why? Make you nervous?" She pushed the point slightly against the closure of his shirt, cocking her eyebrow at him.
He pushed her hand away. "That's not funny. Shit, sometimes I think you really are nuts."
"Well, I guess that depends on who you asked. Some would say fucking you confirmed that." She smirked and stuffed the stake back into the rear of her pants.
"Also not funny."
She rolled her eyes again, turning to walk off, and he grabbed her by the arm. "Hey." She narrowed her eyes.
"You like me." It wasn't a question. She knew. She sighed.
"Fine. Whatever. You don't annoy me. Okay?"
"No. Not good enough. You say you don't. You say it was a mistake, but you liked it. You like me. Bugger it all, I like you too."
"This again? And, just where, exactly, do you think this is going to lead us?" she pulled away. So what? So she liked him. Like that was going to help the situation at all.
"I don't know, shit. A few good years? To pretend we're …"
"What? Normal?" Her face scrunched up in disbelief. "We're not normal, Carver. We are so far from normal, normal has it's own zip code. I learned a long time ago that sometimes some distance is the best thing. Get mine and then get gone. Besides, Finn would-"
"Finn? I thought you didn't work with Watchers anymore."
"Yeah, well, they don't seem to know that, do they? Just when I get all cozy in the slammer and life is finally five by five, they come along and bust me out."
"Well, that's what you get for trying to help soul-boy."
She shot him a dark glare.
"I like you better when you're not so chatty."
"I know how you can fix that."
"Back on this again? You're like a broken record."
"If I annoy you enough, maybe you'll hit me again." He raised an eyebrow down at her.
"If you're lucky."
"I'm trying to get there, yeah."
She smirked. "C'mon. The sun's comin'. You'd be a waste as a pile of dust." She turned and walked off, perhaps putting an extra swing in her hips as she did, hooking her thumbs in her belt.
No sense in wasting a good thing.