Moonlight – Virtual Season 2
Episode Eight – Old Friends
Rating: R
Writer: mx wwmickd
Beta'd: Writers Group
VS2 Writers Group includes PhotoSue, CIChen, Sunny, Misfit, Evilous, mxwwmickd, Night Owl, PhantomPhoenix and Candomom.
Disclaimer: Moonlight and its characters are owned by CBS and Warner Brothers. All use of Moonlight and its characters in this venue are for entertainment purposes and completed solely for the pleasure of Moonlight lovers. The original storylines and episodes have been created by the VS2 Writers and Discussion Group. We hope you enjoy.
Our special thanks to Fah and to Christophe, who translated the dialogues from English to French.
This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead, or undead is coincidental, although some historical events are accurate.
Civil War Draft Riots - NY
"It's rather refreshing to watch the torch bearing mob go after the filthy rich rather than vampires."
"Mr. Constance, you are the filthy rich"
Mr. Josiah Constance looks up from his game of billiards. The billiards table has been set up on the top floor of Constance's waterfront warehouse. The draft riots had raged for a day and a half. "Mansions can be rebuilt, but inventory is another matter. Brick warehouses, steel shutters,andof course, protection monies paid to the 'Dead Rabbits' to fight fires and restrain the unwashed mob, this seems to be keeping the wolves from the door. Although why anyone would respect a gang called 'The Dead Rabbits' is beyond me."
"Sir, it appears we have visitors, two ladies. They've sent up a calling card, a Miss Cora Lynn D' Vale and her companion."
"Show them in, we can always use another set of fangs in these troubled times, especially fangs with an appreciation for manners. Did you pack the crystal decanter... then if you would serve us drinks… Oh, there will be no need for the usual clean up to the East River, what with bodies in the street."
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Josiah Constance is surveying the skyline of Lower Manhattan from the roof of his tallest warehouse; fire does not seem to be an immediate threat to his business concerns. The chaos of the riots has created a rather festive evening among the vampire community gathered together in the relative safety of brick buildings. Drinks are flowing freely; it is hardly likely that outrageous vampire celebrations will come to the attention of the public on this night. If things do get too extravagant there is always the East River.
"My dear Miss D'Vale, are you and you lovely companion Cynthia enjoying the evening?"
Cora Lynn shudders, a far away look in her eye, "Revolution is always unsettling… but still this seems to be a human affair…" she says in a low voice.
"My dear, I love it when a woman can make even revolution sound romantic." Constance slips an arm around her thin waist and pulls her close to drag his lips beneath her jaw line and ends with a tiny nip beneath her ear. Two drops of black blood glitter in the light from distance fires. "America… here we think the bastards had it coming…" Cora Lynn looks at him like a traitor through narrowed eyes… "War, on the other hand, good for vampires and business, revolution bad for both. Let's collect Cynthia and I can show you the arrangements I've made for your accommodation."
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"My dear Mr. Constance, this is indeed delightful and cool to be surrounded by a house of ice." Cora Lynn coos. Large blocks of ice packed in sawdust are stacked to the ceiling, building blocks for the small house of ice which has been set up in the open space of the warehouse, candles glittering on wet surfaces.
"Ice in summer, who would imagine that ice can be made into profit; I apologize for the roughness of these accommodations, but since the unruly mob is busy looting my fellow captains of commerce…"
"So, ladies, shall we undress each other… and for a late dinner and entertainment an Irish lad or Irish lass… a cock? We need another cock, for the ladies!" Constance grins and snaps his fingers.
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The ice is beginning to glitter with daylight, candles long since burned out. Constance thinks… Now if every riot could turn out this well, as he listens to the two women talk over the top of him, playing with him, stroking his body. Viva los Vampiros, no one can tell if you are dead or sleeping.
Cynthia: Combien jusqu'à ce que Lance se rend compte que nous sommes à New
York?
(How much time do we have until Lance figures out we are in New York?)
Coraline:Lance est un bâtard avide, maudit les espoirs que je rembourser la famille parce que l'Union a brûlé l'usine Duvall coton à la Nouvelle-Orléans. Le stupide ne peut être reconnaissants parce que je suis vivant?
(Lance is a greedy bastard, that jerk expects me to repay the family because the Union burned the Duvall cotton warehouses in New Orleans. Can't the little shit be grateful I'm alive?)
Cynthia: Attention, ne pas savoir Constance ... il est plus vieux que nous.
(Shush, we know nothing about Constance... he's older than us.)
Coraline: Je n'ai jamais su à propos de la upstart... il n'est pas important, juste un profiteur de cette guerre.
(I've never heard of the upstart before... he's of no importance merely a profiteer in this war.)
Cynthia: Look, our little friend is starting to stir.
Coraline: It is time to take matters in hand once again.
Josef Voice Over: Merde, the French bitches are connected to that greedy bastard Lance, I'll have to hide the silver (all of it) whenever Coraline and Cynthia are around.
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1906
Josef Voice Over: Three hundred years old next year, you wouldn't expect it to feel different, but it does. Money, on the other hand, never feels any different, you have it good, you lose it bad.
"Sir, Mr. Edward Thaw has sent up his calling card."
"Do I know him?"
"Yes, he said you had business dealings with his father,
"Well, send him up, but lock the door behind him."
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"Mr. Thaw, to what do I owe this pleasure? May I get you a drink?" Edward Thaw lifts his eyebrows, indicating a question. Josef responds gesturing to himself, "You have the pleasure of speaking with Joe, Joe Fitzpatrick."
"Joe, a mutual acquaintance of ours is causing us both a problem. He's a new member of your community I believe, Stanford White."
"Yes, the architect. How is he your problem? The wealthy and the famous are almost always poor additions to our community, Mr. Thaw, they have very little discretion." Josef pours them both a drink of whiskey and offers a glass to the younger man. "I certainly wouldn't have sanctioned his entry into our society; he was already a man of many appetites."
Thaw's jaw tenses, "Well bad luck all around, we believe he found his 'patron' on a recent trip to Europe while looting some villa in France. This trip gave my brother time to court, propose and marry Evelyn Nesbitt, White's former lover."
"Ah, Evelyn," Josef muses with some appreciation, "one of those Floradora Girls who have always been very "willing" to please their both know that White has never been someone who respected any convention in private, including Miss Nesbitt's newfound respectability as a married woman."
Thaw continues, looking out the drawing room windows across 5th Avenue and into Central Park. "Of course my brother is quite deranged and suspects White of designs on his wife. He also believes we have some sort of hereditary responsibility to expose vampires among us. He's been known to carry a gun."
"Does he have the right ammunition?"
"Actually, Joe, I've come to request permission to use the proper ammunition. If my brother shoots Stanford White and he survives… well, the scandal will touch us all. If my brother kills White, Henry goes to prison, the insane asylum or at the very least is denied any kind of controlling interest in the Pennsylvania Railroad and our other concerns, which areLegion."
Josef comments, "I propose we toast the continued success of the Pennsylvania Railroad and other concerns."
Edward Thaw lifts his glass, "To other concerns then, which are Legion."
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Josef watches Thaw cross the street from the windows of his drawing room cursing softly, gritting his teeth until anger and rage call out the beast. His secretary enters the room and Josef announces, "I'm heading to the waterfront. If any of those blue-blooded bastards want to know my whereabouts, I'm out of town. I need something to drink that will wash away the odor of pretension."
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Josef is sleeping rough in his ice warehouse, stretched out naked on the large blocks of ice. Curled up next to him in a buffalo skin rug is a young woman, not yet twenty, sleeping peacefully, bite marks on her inner arm.
"Josef!" Waking with a start, he hears his name is called out. "Josef," a long wail, it's coming from the street. Instantly he is over at the window, leaning out. The sky is lightening, Coraline is below, crying and distraught, her human face barely in place.
"Cora, Cora, Floradora Girl," Josef says softly, "I'm up here." Her skimpy showgirl dress is already torn as she rapidly crawls up the side of the building and into Josef's arms. Josef curses her indiscretion and peers out into the street. Was she seen?
"Josef, Stanford is dead!" Shit, she turned him… Josef is calculating the strength of the Sire/offspring bond, what, less than a year ago? Damn it, Coraline always chooses strong-willed offspring who clung to their old life. In the case of Stanford White, this meant his sexual appetite for younger and younger women… it was only a matter of time before White turned a 12 year old girl.
"I know, Cora, the Legion came to me yesterday."
"And you just let them kill him!" Coraline is clawing, hissing and biting at Josef's throat. Josef twists his hand in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck, while he locks her arm back. She can choose to continue her attack or face the momentary pain of dislocated joints. Josef doesn't really care what happens, he hasn't had a good fuck in a while… that's where it always ends with Coraline. He smiles, sadly she's too grief stricken to continue. Josef brushes his lips along her and nips her neck before he releases her.
"I didn't have a choice, Thaw was going to shoot him anyway, and White's survival of the event would have endangered us. You knew him better than most… would he have gone into hiding; given up a life as America's most famous architect?" He was internationally recognizable!" Coraline collapses sobbing on Josef's chest until she smells food. Her eyes silver and fangs descend as she focuses on the prey. The girl is looking at them wide-eyed, only slightly frightened.
"Mister, what's wrong with the lady?"
"She's hungry, that's all."
"Hungry like you?" The girls eyes go wide as she looks from Coraline to Josef.
"Yes." Josef chuckles. "Can you keep this a secret?"
"Lord, Mister, I've seen worse things down in the lower east end."
"Put some clothes on and talk to the warehouse boss, there's a position if you want it."
"Do I have to fuck you?"
"Feed more than fuck. I won't leave you with any brats, can't have them."
"Sure, Mister."
"The rules are simple, no stealing and no telling or you're dead."
"Phhttt," the girl makes a rude noise with her lips, "Like I said, I've seen worse."
His attention returns to Coraline, "I'll get you something to eat and don't touch her… she's mine."
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"Sleep well, Mick?" Beth is spread out with newspapers on the couch, still wearing her pajamas, relaxed and happy.
"Don't you have to work today?" Mick asks, smiling and glad she is still here.
"I took a personal day, it was nice to spend Sunday together and I didn't want to break the spell. Do you have things to do today?"
"Don't tell anyone, but Oscar and I have been doing the crossword puzzle, so when he came by I asked him to bring over some papers. I said I'd be spending the day with you."
"How did the crossword thing happen?" Beth smiles mysteriously and thinks, Oscar's tightfisted attitude toward information may be rubbing off. Maybe I'll practice controlling my breath and heartbeat around Mick today.
Mick stretches and Beth stares, thinking, how are those pajama bottoms staying up? They're hanging on nothing but… Even Beth can hear her heart begin to race… maybe I'll get lucky… and she says quickly, "I think we're ready to move up to the New York Times or… maybe not… Mick, does Josef know about this?" Leaning over her shoulder he takes a moment to inhale her scent, stopping mid-sniff as he reads…
WHITLEY TRUST FINANCES VAMPIRE HUNTERS
"I believe that's him calling now," Mick says as the phone begins to ring.
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"I can't believe they're saying this is my problem." Josef is pacing in his living room "I'd kill John Whitley, if he wasn't already dead. I should have killed him last winter,"
"Josef, the Times states that the trust has been in place for three years… it wouldn't have made any difference. It's just being endowed now." Beth looks at Mick, who shrugs… now isn't the time to be reasonable. Josef continues to rant.
"Do you know how much effort I put into making sure that the Legion in New York is run by fools? A century worth of idiots and lunatics… starting with Thaw, I romanced his mother, yuck, I kept him out of prison, invested in his movies, sent him to India for research… electro-shock, that was effective… reduced him to a drooling idiot for a few months. Dead someone would have taken his place, alive he filled a void… when he died… vampires were ridiculous celluloid monsters. More importantly, the Thaws abandoned their support of the Legion, renounced their hereditary role because Uncle Harry was certifiable. Now they have billions again! Fuck!"
Mick tries to distract his friend, "Josef, the New York Tabloids are still doing your job."
LEGIONNAIRE'S DISEASE: VAMPIRES ON THE BRAIN
MAD COW DISEASE CAUSED BY VAMPIRES FEEDING ON LIVE STOCK
WHITLEY DIES WEARING GARLIC TURBAN
POPE REFUSES TO ENDORSE COMMERCIAL BOTTLED HOLY WATER.
CABLE ACCESS VAMPIRE HUNTER'S PLAN FOR WORLD DOMINANCE
Beth speaks up, "Look, there is an exclusive interview with the cable access guy. This guy, Tyson, isn't that a brand of chicken… It says here that be believes that he's the reincarnation of a Hungarian vampire hunter. He's been chasing Dracula across various lifetimes. The moment of truth happened during fourth grade, apparently someone shot him with a paper clip in the side of the neck and he recovered a past life memory of Dracula sucking out his last drop of blood. He's accusing Larry King of being the reincarnation of Dracula, King's refusing a meeting. I bet he's got episodes posted on YouTube."
"This is bad," Josef mutters, "Beth, I need you to go to New York and do spin control on this thing. I'll handle the financial end and Mick… Mick, we'll find something for you to do, investigate this chicken guy…"
"I have a job, Josef," Beth protests.
"Call Talbot and take a week off."
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Ben Talbot rubs the slight stubble on his jaw, it was another long weekend. Driving up to San Quentin to see his father every Sunday made Mondays grueling. Fortunately, he wasn't scheduled to appear in court today. His sister, Caitlin, hadn't made the trip with him yesterday. He and his father had an unspoken agreement not to talk about the crime that had landed him in prison in front of Caitlin.
Ben had looked across the table at the man whose face resembled his so closely. He had no specific memories of the man, just feelings of being loved, protected; odd, when they seemed to share the same cynical sensibilities as well as physical resemblances.
"Dad, Cate's not here today, can I ask you why you didn't fight this?"
"Every man has limits, son." His father smiles a half smile, one that Ben has seen on himself in pictures." "I never thought I'd get to say the word, 'son' to you or ever see you again." His lips tighten before he begins to speak, "the insanity defense is a double edged sword, there would have been no other way to explain what I saw. The prosecutor would have countered that I had merely disassociated and killed your mother anyway… and since I wasn't claiming to have lost time or that I had lost the ability to distinguish right from wrong… Ben, I talked to the police at length… not a confession… lots of evidence in my own words. I've defended men using the insanity defense. I helped compulsive liars win a 'not guilty' verdict and watched genuinely sick people be convicted, in spite of my best efforts.
"That all sounds very noble… but they would have tried to put you on the stand to testify." He says the last quietly, looking away from Ben. "So I used my resources to arrange a plea bargain for second degree murder and a private adoption for you and Caitlin. My parents had they been alive, were old fashioned, prison was a terrible stigma… Your mother's parents, since I believe she's still alive, wouldn't have been safe. I wasn't scared of prison… a jailhouse lawyer is always welcome… and I've done some good work here."
"What did you see, dad?"
"Read the police reports and then we need to have a private interview... as my lawyer you can set that up, Ben."
"You're hiring me?" Speaking these words gives Ben chills... this man, his father... a connection that had been so lost, he hadn't known it existed.
Ben's attention snaps back to the present as his phone begins to ring.
"So, you're trying to tell me the list I received is a list of vampires living in LA?" Ben resists the urge to laugh out loud, "and Mick St. John is a vampire... yeah, I know he's strange, but there's lots of strange people living in LA. What... so now you're threatening me... threatening to expose my mother as a vampire? Would this be my biological mother or my adoptive mother? Tell me where to find my biological mother and I might listen to you. Good-bye."
Ben shakes his head. Just when weird couldn't get any weirder... he looks up to see Beth tapping at his door frame. Is St. John, the vampire... with her, right down the hall?" Come in, Beth, I thought you were taking the day off."
"I am, but I got an offer to go to New York for a week and do some reporting on the Whitley Trust... I guess I'm a vampire expert from my days at Buzzwire."
"What's the Whitley Trust and what does it have to do with vampires?"
"It's on the front page of the New York Times... John Whitley left his fortune in trust to a group of so-called vampire hunters. I'd like to do some reporting again... if you think there isn't a conflict of interest."
"Only if these vampire hunters start hunting the vampires in LA, a rather unlikely scenario, don't you think?" Talbot watches the color drain from Beth's face and considers that she stole the list of so-called vampires from his office. "The problem with any sort of vigilante group is when they start targeting innocent people... so go, Beth, and keep your eyes open."
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"Beth," Mick has mentioned her name several times before she snaps out of her distracted state of mind. "What did Talbot say that bothered you?" Mick is frowning and concerned, Talbot knows too much, he hates that Beth has to lie and steal information for him... for us... vampires.
"He was odd, I expected him to find the New York vamp hunters ridiculous. Instead he just said any kind of vigilante group… like the Legion, would be a genuine danger to innocent people. I think he knows I took the file." Beth feels anxious at the thought of Talbot confronting her with her theft.
Mick reaches over to touch Beth's hand, to reassure her with a gentle squeeze. "He hasn't said anything?"
"No, it's like he's stopped looking for it and that's not like him."
They ride in silence until Mick pulls over at the curb near Beth's apartment, "Hey, when we're in New York, let's go out on that date we missed the last time… we'll dress up and go some place nice."
"Will we have time?" She can't help but remember the last time they were in New York, Mick trusting her, open... asking her to go downtown with him... to go out. The excuse that sounded empty even then... she wanted to make it up to him, make a new memory.
"We'll make the time." Mick smiles at her shyly, "To go out... like any other couple on a trip to New York."
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Josef's private jet is waiting for them at the airport. Oscar is already on board but Beth is surprised to see Simone with a group of extremely attractive young men and women dressed in suits. Beth thinks, Are they all freshies? Business attire? Not what exactly what I imagined other freshies would look like.
"Beth," Simone smiles, "It's good to see you, I was afraid this trip was going to be all business, we're looking into the legal approaches to controlling the Whitley Trust. Let me introduce you to the team.
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"Mick, this place looks like anearly bordello." They've arrived at a small hotel off of Times Square. In the high ceiling rooms and wide hallways dark reds and purples are the dominant colors, the furniture suggests Victorian styling and the lighting is low, stingy.
"Josef did pick this place," Mick says with a smirk, "we're on the vampire floor."
"Has anyone ever suggested vampire style needs a make over… It's so dark in here, just turning on my laptop is going to blind you people… and why..." Beth says in a tone of baffled exasperation. "Is the honeymoon suite on the vampire floor?"
Mick's embarrassed and can't look at Beth directly, "ah, it's not ah… just ah… the honeymoon suite."
"Oh…" Beth mutters in a whisper, "here I was thinking I was going to get lucky tonight," knowing that Mick can hear her. She pushes by him roughly and drops her bags in the middle of the room. I will not think about luminal, I will not think about black lights, I will not think about why the bedding is all black and purple, I will not… "I'm taking a shower, a long one."
After her shower, Beth, wearing a camisole top and boy short pajamas, looks at the king sized bed warily… "Mick!" she shouts.
"Hey, I can hear you," he says with a grin as he walks out from the freezer room next door, shirtless andwearing his own pajamas.
"You're sure no one was Turned in this bed?" Beth asks, her voice filled with apprehension. "That would be too weird."
"Nope, I can't smell a drop of blood anywhere on the bedding or mattress. The cost of 'cleaning' is probably included in the room." He walks over to pull her into a hug, bending to nibble lightly at her lips. She shivers at the thought, skin all goose-bumps and nipples erect with the chill. Mick can feel them press sharply against his chest through the thin cotton of her pajamas… feeling protective and aroused at once, he lets his hands slowly slide down over Beth's bottom. The fabric slides against her skin and he pulls her against thinks, maybe this is the time and the place,as he lifts her into his arms.
"I love you." Inhaling and savoring the smell of her damp skin, shampoo, soap and the musky aroma of her sex as well as the flavors of the room; clean cotton, naturally oiled furniture, the bouquet of tuberoses and lilies he ordered from the florist downstairs when Beth was in the shower… and beyond... Coraline! She's outside the door.
It's heartbreaking, then and now… Then, Coraline in his arms on his wedding night… he's in love. Now, Beth in his arms now… he's in love. He freezes, arms tightening around Beth… eyes glaze over silver, fangs long, Coraline is here to take him... and to take Beth away from him.