I'd never thought of an Oliver and Myrnin pairing before, but I thought that this one could actually turn out pretty funny.
So here we go…
Warning: Involves cross dressing, and a little bit of boyxboy, (so don't like, don't read!) although Oliver doesn't know it… hee hee. Flame if it'll make you happy, but they'll only be ignored. This also may contain a few spoilers for Carpe Corpus, so if you're wondering why Myrnin's not insane, read the book.
Disclaimer: If I owned the Morganville Vampires series, then Claire's parents would hand her over to Shane and say 'please ravish my daughter'. Overprotectiveness pisses me off.
On with the story!
For possibly the first time ever, Claire was actually thankful when a message boy ran into the lecture hall and told her that Miss Amelie wanted to see her and quickly please. This was not because she had suddenly discovered her deeply (and I mean deeply) buried undying love for the cold founder of the town, but rather because she had just sat through a completely pointless hour of physics she had perfected many months before with Myrnin down in his lab.
If there was any problems with being a now mostly sane vampire's pet/co-worker/lab assistant, it was that she had probably completed the whole year already, and moved onto the next, and all school had become good for was catching up on the precious hours of sleep she had wasted, either with Myrnin, on some fool's errand for Amelie, or best of all, wrapped tightly in Shane's arms.
But right now was definitely not the time for those particular dribble-worthy thoughts, however much she wanted to have them. Not with the town founder breathing down her neck in a pissy mood, anyway.
And so, Claire quickly packed away the few books she had around her into her usual small canvas bag, then stood up to her full yet still diminutive height of just under five foot, and shuffled on out, feeling slightly self conscious of the gazes of the students around her turned to focus on her form.
Or rather, on the small golden bracelet swinging to and fro about her wrist.
Claire pulled the sleeves of her dark green cardi across the thin band, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks as she pushed open the doors at the entrance of the lecture hall and left as quickly as she could. Or rather, before Monica Morrell, self proclaimed (although no one was going to challenge her on this one) bitch queen of the small-time world that was Morganville University, noticed her absence and decided to follow.
She had already had a shower this morning, and she really didn't need another one, especially as that shower was likely to be held with her head inside a toilet.
Thankfully, Monica was far to busy filing her nails and eyeing up one of the big jock types at the opposite end of the hall to notice Claire's scurrying escape, but Claire still kept her head down, just in case.
She reached the headmasters office, where she guessed Amelie would be waiting for her, in barely a minute. She had been walking fast, and her small legs were burning, but a little bit of muscle pain from a swift march across campus was a far better fate than the one which would surely await if she dared to leave Amelie waiting to long.
After all, vampires were not well known for their patience.
Sure enough, Amelie was sitting comfortably behind the desk, her pale hair wound up in a complicated twist and her back ram rod straight as a soldier's. The headmaster, who had been evicted from his comfortable chair under the eyes of a greater authority, now stood slightly nervously in the corner of the room, flanked on both sides by the usual vampire entourage who followed the founder wherever she went. He gave Claire a nervous bob of the head as she entered, and hurried on out, obviously overwhelmed by Amelie's intimidating presence.
Indeed, as Amelie's ice-cold gaze met her own, Claire felt her hands, which were carefully folded at her sides, begin to shake at the raw power she could feel in that gaze. Amelie had been one of the first to take the cure for the Vampire's Disease which had affected them all so badly, only a little while after Myrnin, the worst case by far who was not locked behind bars, recovered.
Still, Claire hadn't realised just how much the Vampire's Disease had affected Amelie of all people, not until the town founder was completely cured.
And then she had seen just how strong and dangerous a fully powered, fully primed Amelie could be.
She was still grieving from Sam's death, Claire noted, her fast eyes flicking over and taking in the unusual darkness of her carefully pressed suit. Amelie had always favoured the light, pastelline colours, which matched her pale skin and enunciated the silvery hair and fearless grey eyes. And Claire had always thought that that style had suited her, and until a few weeks ago, when Bishop had drained Sam and consequently poisoned himself, she never would've imagined Amelie in anything else.
But once again, the child genius was proved wrong by the unpredictability of vampire moods. Which, really, was a subject she should have been an expert on. As well as being as close as someone could get to the ruling vampires of Morganville without being dubbed as a 'fangbanger', she had also been apprentice to Myrnin far to long to forget that vampires were never to be trusted. She was possibly the only person in Morganville (living person, that is) who could honestly say that she considered both Amelie and Myrnin her friends, however much they still scared her sometimes.
Amelie seemed in no hurry to tell her what the rush was, instead choosing to look away back to a sheaf of paper she had clasped in one delicately pale hand, and so Claire just stood there for a little longer, twirling her feet against the soft carpet and fidgeting uncomfortable, before finally working up the guts to ask-
"Um, ma'am?" She still hadn't been granted the privilege of addressing the Founder on first name terms.
Amelie looked up.
Then looked down again.
Okay, now Claire was getting annoyed. Vampire queen or not, Amelie still didn't have the right to rip her from classes (however boring said classes were) drag her into a one-on-one (excluding the vampish bodyguards) interview, and then promptly ignore her! Did she?
No.
Claire Danvers, human, and recently turned seventeen, was not going to stand for it.
She took a slightly angry step forwards, still trying not to act like a threat in case the guards took it the wrong way, and opened her mouth to give the vampire a piece of her mind…
…and then Amelie held up a single hand, palm facing towards her, a gesture which clearly stated, 'please wait a while'.
Ah well, it was better than nothing. Claire hunched back down again, glancing around her nervously, rage dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. She didn't really like conflict, and only fought when she had to, especially against super-strong supernatural beings who could kill her with their little fingers.
Sometimes rebelling against overwhelming odds really wasn't such a great idea, no matter what all the films said. Luke Skywalker be damned.
But there was just something… annoying about the Founder, and her seeming disregard of all things human. And although Claire knew that Amelie did care about the other side of the population in Morganville, even if she did always place her own first and foremost, she still found it bugging that Amelie always behaved like she was nothing more than a piece of mud stuck to her shoe.
Finally, Amelie put her papers down with a sigh, and gave Claire a nod.
"I'm sorry," she said. Claire blinked. Amelie never apologised. Never. This was new.
"What for?" asked Claire, genuinely curious, and saw Amelie smile slightly.
"Dragging you from the learning you love so much. I imagine it must have been hard for you to tear yourself away."
"Not at all." Claire shrugged. "I'd been over it a few billion times before with Myrnin, anyhow."
Amelie looked up at the mention of the no-longer-utterly-insane vampire who had fought by their side in the war against Bishop, despite his problem of being caught in the slow spiral down into insanity.
"Ah yes, Claire. That was just what I wanted to talk about with you, actually."
"What?" Claire frowned, back tracking over what she'd just said. "My studies?"
"No, Myrnin. You see…"
Amelie sighed, and tapped a pen which had appeared from seemingly nowhere softly against the desk, and then turned to the Guards.
"Leave us. Claire is no threat."
The Vampire Guards nodded as one, and left, silent and quickly. As soon as they were gone, Claire found herself wondering if they had ever been there in the first place. Amelie's guard were the elite after all, they were well trained in being inconspicuous. They were barely noticeable in everything they did, until they wanted to be, sleek and silent as a true nocturnal predator should be. If someone had told her to imagine a vampire long before she had come to Morganville, then she betted that she would have visualised one of Amelie's Guards.
"What about Myrnin?" asked Claire when the last of the guards had departed, shutting the door softly behind him. For some reason, the fact that she was now alone with one of the most powerful, and possibly the most powerful, now that Bishop was dead, vampires in history didn't really seem to bother her anymore. Claire chose not to dwell on that, however. She knew that in this town, the day you started trusting the vamps as anything more than allies was the day you died.
Amelie looked up at the ceiling, a movement which told Claire she was deep in thought, and that her little human ward was not to interrupt. Claire decided, as usual, that it would be for her beneficial interests (in other words, staying alive) that she complied with Amelie's wishes.
"Where to begin…" Amelie mused, and a horrible thought suddenly appeared in Claire's mind.
"It's not wearing off, is it? The cure? He's not going to go nuts on us again, is he?" And you're not going to follow him, she asked silently, because if the cure didn't work on Myrnin then it would be a safe bet that it wasn't going to work on Amelie either. And then, all the vampires really would be doomed to a long, painful descent into madness.
Thankfully, Amelie shook her head.
"No, no. Nothing like that. In fact, this has more to do with Oliver than Myrnin, actually, although Myrnin will likely be a huge factor…" A frown twisted her smooth forehead slightly "… if he complies."
"What about Oliver then?"
Amelie steepled her fingers, and leaned over them, looking Claire deep in the eyes.
"I do not know. But he has invited all vampires I have not claimed as my own, and even some which I have, but do not hold a strong bond with, to a… party… at the Common Grounds in two days time. I am worried, that now Bishop has gone, he plans to keep going with his plot to overthrow my rule of Morganville, and take the town for his own."
And how does this affect me, Claire wanted to ask. After all, she wasn't a vampire…
A gleam of gold caught her attention and bought it to the band looped about her wrist. You're not a vampire, but you do belong to one, a little voice murmured inside her head. And so do all your friends, one of whom is a vampire of Amelie. The others also belong to her though, through the protection this band offers them. If Oliver takes over, then this band will mean nought, and you will all be in danger again.
Aah. That was it.
"How can I help?"
She asked.
An hour later, and Claire had dropped her last lecture of the day and was instead heading over to Myrnin's lab, her head still buzzing with all Amelie had told her.
No way, said that little inner voice, in much the same way it had been since Amelie had first explained the plan to her. No way will sane Myrnin ever do something like this. Especially if it involves Oliver.
There was no love lost between Oliver and Myrnin, and although Claire didn't know the facts about the harsh, bloody past they shared, she saw enough in the expressions they wore whenever the other was in the room to know that they truly hated eachother. Amelie was the only reason they had been forced to briefly cooperate, and even then it was only because there was a bigger evil for them to focus on, rather than each other.
So if Oliver really does take over, Myrnin will be at his mercy as well as Amelie… and the rest of us. We can't let that happen!
But Amelie's plan… It was just… just…
Too insane, even going by Myrnin's standards, who was still far from normal. Screw that. The whole of Morganville was far from normal, but Myrnin was still further out than the rest.
If he gets pissed off and kills me for this, she thought silently, I'll write in my will for Shane to hunt you down, Amelie, and shove a stake through you. And then I'll come back as a ghost and haunt your prone body until you really do go mental, cured of the Vampire Disease or not.
She hugged the dress – yes dress – that Amelie had given her closer to her chest, pressing the soft silk against her cheek and trying to imagine Myrnin wearing it. It wasn't difficult. He was certainly pretty enough to pull it off, although his pride would probably never recover.
After all, if Amelie had her way, he was going to be cross dressing. Whilst spying for possible mutiny in the ranks at none other but Oliver's possible let's-take-over-Morganville party.
Oh yes, the crazy scientise/vampire was really going to love this one.
Claire paused for a second at the door of Myrnin's shack, biting her lip.
I'd better come out of this alive, Amelie, she thought, and then pushed open the door and went in, still holding the pile of pink silk in her arms.