Author's Note: I have some of the best ML cheerleaders in the world, even when I'm squeaking out no fanfic to speak of. They are, in no particular order, maggatha3, hydriotaphia, and redwinter101. Many thanks, ladies, for reminding me how much I miss this fandom!

Beth bent over the table, taking plenty of time to aim as Mick stood behind her. With a clack, she sent the blue skittering into the pocket. The music, something Beth didn't recognize, another band Mick thought she should know, filled the room with its bass and beats.

She edged past the vampire, grazed the front of his jeans.

"Three ball, corner pocket." The cue snapped forward and balls flew across the table. Beth grinned and stood to chalk her cue, wandering to the other side.

"Miss Turner, why do I think I'm being hustled?" Mick hadn't gotten in a single shot.

With a purse of her lips, she blew the excess and lined up her next shot.

"Because, Mr. St. John," the five slid home and knocked the seven along the way, "you are."

She paused to sip some of Josef's vodka, mixed with a Diet Coke she'd had to ferret in herself. Mick had already downed two glasses of the Macallan.

"One more and I win," Beth returned to Mick's side. With a lick of the lips and a steady eye, she ended it. Nothing but stripes on the table. Beth straighened and froze, Mick suddenly flush behind her.

"Time to collect your prize," he slid her cue across the table and leaned over, wrapping his arms around her.

Mick gathered her breasts in his hands, thumbs carressing her nipples through her bra. He swung his hips in a slow circle, she felt him hard against her and widened her stance. Mick kept one hand on her breast as he raised her dress with the other.

The fabric rose and long and luscious fingers slipped past silk and inside her. A hum came from Beth as Mick ghosted in and out of her and pressure built. Mick kept his hand below but faster than Beth could process, he'd slid her dress even higher and his other hand to the plane of skin just below her belly button. Beth arched her back with a gasp. Mick growled and bent her back over the table, held tight between his straining pants and roaming hands.

She knew without seeing that the flash of ice had taken his eyes. She felt the slide of his tongue along her spine, a hint of sharp scratching along skin. Beth, flush and wet, grasped futilely at the felt of the pool table. She tightened as hands and tongue and fingers moved over her until finally she came with a panting gasp.

Mick moved away, balanced both hands gently at her hips, then vame up slow, tracing curves. He ran his fangs lightly along the valleys of her skin as he moved. Beth placed her hands over Mick's, both of them squeezing her breasts. Then she guided him back toward her waist and hoisted herself onto the pool table, breaking contact as she arched her ass in the air to wiggle her underwear free.

"There, better," she announced.

She rolled over in a long stretch, knocking balls clear, and sat up on the edge of the table. She shimmied free of her dress and unclasped her bra, raised it high above her head and flung it away. Mick leaned in and nipped at her newly bared breasts, leaving faint scratches, a hint of blood to come. When he rose, he was blue and cold and beautiful and hers.

Beth lifted Mick's Henley over his head with practiced speed, and gave his collarbone a lick of her own. Mick rid himself of his pants and settled between her legs, which Beth locked around him, pushing his cock against her.

Hands snaked around her waist, pulling her tight, skin to skin. Beth shifted until he was fully inside her. Arms draped around his neck, they began the rhythm of hips and thighs. Beth's muscles were winding up all over again when his mouth descended to her neck. It began as a tattoo of kisses, trailing from behind her ear to the edge of her chin. But then he moved to her carotid. He paused, tongue tickling at her pulse. Beth squeezed her legs around him.

"Go, go," she urged. He bit down, lingered this time, fangs in her as they fucked. A beat, two. And then she bled, warm and sticky, tumbling into his mouth. His neck muscles moved beneath her hands as she poured into him. He picked up speed, up and down as she slicked with sweat and blood. A drop slid toward her breasts. Mick chased it and blood above fell after it in drips and drops. He lapped her up like ice cream on a hot day.

The tightness in her snapped and Beth felt herself melting. Mick continued, working at her neck, while full and rocking hard within her. Finally, he slowed, a final thrust, and stillled. Beth let her legs drop, though he stayed inside her. Mick's cool flesh had picked up a little of her warmth, but she shivered as he held her against him, drinking softly. She played with the curls of his hair as Mick made faint noises of pleasure.

He leaned forward, shifting as he kept his mouth tight on her neck but mounted the table. He pulled out and his cock grazed her thighs, slightly hard again as he crouched over her. For a few minutes, she let him suck at her, until the room blurred.

"Mick," Beth said breathless, but the vampire didn't hesitate.

"Mick. Stop."

"Hmm?" his lips made her shudder. Beth yanked his hair slightly and winced at the pinch of fangs.

"Stop."

Mick broke away, blue eyes blinking. And then he was himself again.

"Are you okay?" he inspected the bite and wiped a hand across his mouth. A smear of red left behind.

"I'm fine. Better than fine," Beth pulled him toward her and tangled her legs between his. "Orange juice and a cookie please."

No laugh, but Mick smiled as he played a thumb over the top of her thigh. He felt her heart, the in and out of her lungs against him, tried not to see the blood he'd left behind. She slowed, beat by beat and bit by bit, and his smile dimmed.

"Don't worry, Mick. Next time, I'll let you win."

"Oh Beth," he answered with a kiss to her temple. "I already have."