Midnight Rendezvous
Author: Dez/Jezebel Jinx/VampireQueen21
Category: X-over Dracula/Roswell
Couple: Dracula/Liz
Rating: R
Summary: Takes place the night of Liz catching Tess and Max kiss.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A.N. After watching 4 Dracula movies I just had to write a story with him.
Prologue Roswell; 1996Prowling the cold crisp darkness, he's looking for his victim for the night. He's in the mood for something sweet and innocent. For the past 3 months while he's been sleeping he's been dreaming of this beautiful dark haired girl, and he needs a woman that looks like her—then maybe she'll leave his head.
He doubts that she really exists, the only reason that he's dreaming about her is because lately all he's had to drink from and satisfy his sexual needs were blondes. While he walks he hears the faint sound of shoes hitting the pavement as someone walked.
The footfalls are soft but confident. Whoever the person is their small and light, but act like their 6'5 and 250 lbs. Sniffing the air lightly he smells vanilla and strawberries, a female—at least he hopes it's a female. In this day and age some men can smell like that too.
Listening for a few more seconds he determines that the person—hopefully a woman—is going to be walking into this alleyway. His muscles clench and flex, vaulting him up to a nearby rooftop where he waits for the person responsible for the footfalls that caught his ears.
Waiting impatiently he gazes up toward the sky and takes a look at the planets on the move. Human eyes—even some vampire eyes wouldn't be able to see the planets turning in the universe, but he took pride in the fact that he was old enough and special enough to be given the gift of a much more keen sight.
He comes out of his self praises when he realizes that the footfalls have stopped—right under him. Glancing down he sees a small girl with long dark brown hair. She's young, he's never been one for the blood of children, and in his mind she was still a child, she looks no more than 12.
What was this young girl doing out here at 1 o'clock in the morning. She should be in bed dreaming of wonderful things, not walking around in rat-infested alleys.
Moving slowly, as to not alert the young child of his presence, to the other side of the roof, he has this inclination to see her face. As he gets closer to the edge his non-beating heart slams into his chest, this child, this brown haired girl—she was the one haunting his dreams everyday.
He takes a closer look; she's younger than what he's seen in his dreams. Not by much but she is younger, but there was no mistaking who this was, it's definitely the girl of his dream—he smirks at the cliché.
TBC