Nick came home in a real 'mood'. Maura had the night off and had spent it reading and listening to the radio, addicted by now to the Night Crawler. More accurately, she was fascinated by the dynamic between LaCroix and his clueless callers.
"Can you turn that off?" Nick grumbled as the door banged shut behind him. Bad night. She didn't need to ask, just killed the radio with the remote and laid her book on the end table. And waited. Nick guzzled half a bottle then brought the remainder and a glass into the living room where he fairly flung himself on the sofa next to Maura, ignored the glass, and guzzled some more.
"Ugly shift," she said. It wasn't a question.
At first he just grunted between swallows then added edgily, "You know it."
"You're still working that gang shit, aren't you?"
"Yeah. Only tonight we had some reporter doing a ride-along. Covering the mean streets for the eager public. The 'meeting' that was supposed to happen tonight turned into a drive-by shootout." He killed what was left in the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, scowling into space.
"Brilliant. Tourists helping things along. Schanke okay?" She already knew the answer, but asked anyway. Nick wouldn't be sitting there if his partner had been hurt.
"Yeah he's fine. But not a happy camper. He's been working these homeboys for a while now, and was hoping to get some lead on the latest drive-by 'mistake' shooting. That little kid, remember?" Maura nodded sympathetically, but said nothing. What was there to say? Nick growled under his breath and pitched the bottle over the coffee table. It landed with a loud thud in the middle of the carpet. Then he dropped his head back against the sofa cushion with an explosive sigh.
Maura leaned closer and ran a hand through his hair. "The doctor is in. Wanna talk about it?" With a gentle tug she tipped him over so he was stretched out full length on his back, head in her lap.
"Not now," he confessed, somewhat less harshly. He reached for one of her hands with both of his. "I think right now I just need this."
Maura reached for the stereo remote and switched the sound system to cd. The changer settled on a disc of Chopin etudes. Nick sighed and shut his eyes.
"You're pretty okay, for a mortal. Seems lately all that most of 'em are good for is killing each other and littering my path with the bodies."
She lifted his head to give him a kiss. "Existential boo-boos fixed in a flash," she promised as she resumed stroking his hair, pausing now and then to trace his eyelids and forehead. In spite of her attentions Nick's mouth remained fixed in a frown. As Maura curled her hand along the side of his face he turned to press into it.
"Some boo-boos are more labor-intensive than others, I guess," she noted apologetically.
He kissed her palm. "You're doing fine. Just one of those nights when Schank and I get reminded that sometimes 'life sucks' is as good as it gets."
Maura didn't debate, or try to advise him further. She knew well enough that the perverse nature of his work was that the job started when it was already too late to 'fight crime'. Homicide's bad guys got busted after they did their bad shit, and the imperfect consolation was to keep them from doing it again. And with most anyone but a serial killer, that point was moot anyway. The apparent futility didn't make the challenge irrelevant, and Nick didn't want to be doing anything else like vice or narco. Avenging innocent deaths (and even the not-so-innocent) was something he was devoted to; even if it had started out as a reach for redemption its purpose had become clearer to him with time and now he'd never give it up. It was just sometimes, like tonight, the inescapably Sisyphean nature of it wore him down. The sorry fact was that even immortality and supernatural powers didn't make the job much easier. All you could do was get through the day and hope to make it up tomorrow.
Maura knew a similar scene was playing out at the Schanke household. On nights like tonight there wasn't much to be done except kiss the existential boo-boos and hope for the best. No magic words, no marvelous insight. No matter how much she learned about detective work she knew she'd never be favored with any sort of enlightenment that would allow her to soothe all the inner bruises away with a few words, or many. The need to do more drove her crazy but like Myra Schanke, and anyone else attached to a cop, she kept it to herself.
"I love you, Nicolas."
A smile approached, weak but gaining. "I stand corrected. That is as good as it gets." He opened his eyes and gazed up at her. "What would I do without you?"
She took his chin and shook it gently. "Same as you did before I descended on your ordered life."
"Says you. And it was anything but 'ordered' tonight."
Maura sensed he was ready to talk now, so she asked, "So what did Schanke have to offer? His snitches turn up anything?" Discussing ongoing case work was, naturally, forbidden by department protocol. Equally naturally, most detectives spilled to their significant others if only to stay sane.
"Not so far. That's what the meeting was supposed to be about, not his snitch but just a meet-up to see if anyone would give up some detail. They all suspect each other of course. Any of the gangs says the others did it."
"What does Schank think?"
"He thinks it's some loose cannon. One of the young ones." By 'young' she knew he meant under 12 years old, too young even for gangsta "discipline". She raised one of the hands holding hers and kissed it back and palm, then held it to her face. "Hard to get my head around Schanke being so street in his fancy suits, you know?"
"Yeah, I look pretty lame standing by while he does the talking." Nick tried to sit up, but Maura pressed a hand to his forehead. "No, don't. I like taking care of you for a change, even if I can't make it all better."
"Don't be so sure," he murmured and shut his eyes again. "This feels a whole lot like 'all better' to me ."
"Liar. But it's the best I can do, so I'll take your word for it. Maybe Janette…" she sometimes wondered if he wouldn't be better off with Janette at those times when the best he could do just wasn't good enough, for real not-good-enough and not just part of his own insecurity.
Nick shook his head. "Janette only acts like she has every answer, Sweet. In fact she only has a few more than you. Some problems just don't get solved the way you'd like."
Now she smiled down at him.
"What?"
"Did you hear yourself? You called it a problem, not a personal failure. I think you're making progress." She pressed a fingertip between his eyes as if awarding a gold star.
"Oh joy. Nice all this has an upside." But he squeezed her hand and gave it a kiss. "Well, much as I'd like to lie here all night and wallow in self pity," he broke free of Maura's restraining grasp.
"Oh, is that what this is?"
Nick slapped his forehead. "I meant to say, I'd love to spend the rest of eternity with you soothing my tortured brow, my love."
Impulsively Maura tackled him around the neck and dropped them both to the floor. "Suck pavement, scumball," she growled, pinning him beneath her. As he stared up at her in utter confusion she elaborated, "Isn't that the kind of thing that reporter would love to hear?"
"Thanks so much for reminding me, I'd almost blocked it out."
She dropped down on him for a mouth-vacuuming kiss. "Aw, all better now?"
When she looked at him again he was grinning. "You are so easy. One sob story and you're all over me like a cheap suit. I like that in a mortal."
"Smooth talker. We both have the day off tomorrow, let's go out and work off some of this bad karma, okay? Back in a flash."
She raced upstairs to change, returning moments later in a black satin slip of a dress, sheer silk scarf, and black lace fingerless glove
"Naughty girl," Nick murmured appreciatively, "you've been raiding Janette's closet again."
They entered the club together, hand in hand, for the first time in ages.
"You just can't stay away, can you?" cracked Vargo as he stepped back and held the door for them. There was a slow, pulsing number playing on the sound system (the band had the night off for once); Maura steered Nick through the laser-lit fog and onto the dance floor, where he wrapped around her like a boa constrictor.
"Mrrr..." He squeezed her against him and buried his face in her shoulder as they moved. "...dance therapy."
His recovering mood pleased Maura no end. "Shut up and kiss me," she directed, and he lifted his head suddenly to stare at her, eyebrows raised.
"Getting a little aggressive aren't we?" he teased.
"Let me know when you can't handle it," she advised as she pressed her nose to his, lips barely brushing, "and I'll back off." His grip on her tightened.
"I'm a cop, I can handle anything."
Nick fastened onto Maura's mouth almost as though he expected to drink from it. They continued to dance as they made out like teenagers in heat. Nobody spared them a glance, all the other dancers being similarly occupied.
When the song ended Maura pried her mouth away.
"Jeez," Maura gasped, "you could let a person breathe."
"Breathing is overrated," Nick assured her. The music started up again, a simmering bluesy number.
"Dance, lady?" Nick purred in the noir voice that always turned Maura on.
"I have a better idea," she seized Nick's hand and dragged him across the floor to the doorway at the end of the bar that led to the "private chambers". Once inside the corridor he pulled her around and pressed her to the wall.
"You're trying to take advantage of me, aren't you?" he accused in a husky whisper, lips pressed against her ear so he could enjoy the shiver he drew from her.
"Can't get a thing past you, detective," and she grabbed his ass to pull him even tighter against her. "If you don't take me somewhere else quick I'm gonna do you right here." During a powerful kiss Nick maneuvered them both through the nearest door and into a lushly furnished room: scarlet velvet draperies, couch, and curtained bed, watered silk walls. He spun her around and slammed the door with back.
"Hi honey, I'm home," Nick growled as he reached behind him to slide the bolt with one hand and yank off his jacket with the other, with no pause in their wild kisses . Nick pushed Maura onto the velvet coverlet, falling down half on top of her. For long minutes he held her still, one hand cradling her head as he teased her with near-kisses he pulled away from at the last second, barely brushing his lips against her, dodging as she tried to latch onto his mouth. She shut her eyes when he began scattering butterfly kisses all over her face, body heat filling the fractions of space he kept between them. Finally tiring of the game he fell to devouring her more insistently, with grazing teeth (no fangs yet) and greedy open-mouthed kisses, sliding the silk dress away so he reach every inch of skin he could. Maura could scarcely keep up with him, having to use all her strength to pull his mouth from her shoulders and neck so she could have even one kiss of her own.
"Not fair," she breathed, knowing he'd understand, and he let her roll him onto his back so she could devour him in turn, pulling open his shirt and running her own eager mouth over his chest and shoulders, yanking open his belt and jeans and stroking his belly, more kisses until he groaned in desperation.
"Come here, you," he rumbled and pulled her up so he could burrow under the bunched up dress, biting and kissing and gripping her as if they'd been apart for months.
"Ow!" Maura exclaimed suddenly. He'd unintentionally bitten too carelessly and now he screeched to a halt, his head buried under black silk, face pressed into her breast.
"Uh-oh," he withdrew and brought his face close to hers. "Oh, Sweet, I'm sorry," and he realized he had blood on his lip from where he'd broken her skin. He kissed her face over and over, slowing himself down.
They undressed each other in slow motion, it felt to Maura. "Lemme kiss the boo-boo," Nick whispered, and he found where he'd cut her and kissed the place softly, touched it with light fingers, "there, all better."
Maura had wanted to give as good as she got but as often happened she was overwhelmed by his attentions, his kisses and caresses and long fingers slipping inside to tease and stroke her until she was moaning against his neck, "more, Nick, more." His smile against her skin felt so good, everything about him felt so good. Maura knew how Nick loved to give her pleasure, he loved it even more than when she did the same for him but this time he rolled onto his back again to let her have her way.
She explored his body as if it were for the first time, better than the first time because there was no resistance to overcome, running her hands and face over him as if she were blind. His skin was so soft, smooth, so warm now that he'd learned how to maintain his temperature with the "magic elixir". She breathed in the smell of him, moonlight and silver, something she never could explain to him, so she'd stopped trying. She moved down to scatter lazy kisses on the thin skin where the hair under his navel was downy soft, the hair even lower like silk, not tough or coarse like a mortal's would be.
"Sweet," he rasped, one hand on her head and one gripping her wrist where her fingers spread on his chest.
"I love you, Nick," she spoke softly but crystal clear before lowering her mouth to continue as if he were new territory. The wonder for Maura was his ability to go on and on when he made love with her, never spent until he decided it was time, but the sounds she drew from him and the warmth of his body in her hands and under her mouth made her determined to drive him beyond his maddening control. Finally he pulled on her hand to bring her up to him again, where she leaned over and pressed her face against his, I love you so, he told her, I love you, and he helped her to lift up and sink down on him as their tongues entwined yet again.
After a very few minutes of her easy movements on him they could stand no more lazy pleasure and began to roll and wrestle with increasing strength. Hot, strong, they held tight and moved as one, dance therapy indeed, but this was a different dance.
Gentleness turned to greed; they consumed each other and suddenly Maura was mad with the desire to taste Nick as he tasted her. Her nibbling kisses turned to more insistent bites as he in turn made a feast of her, now painlessly marking her with razor fangs and licking away each drop released, shutting his eyes to savor every rush her blood gave him. The vampire marks would fade quickly but their traces he'd find with pinpoint accuracy every time he touched her. The other, far more human, rosy smudges he left behind would last for days, visual reminders that would annoy her but make him smile. Their embraces turned to a near-struggle, caresses turned to clutching and grappling as if each wanted to take more than the other could give. Nick pushed Maura over the edge once, twice, and was determined to give her more. Time disappeared as they submerged themselves in each other. Work worry, nothing of the world could reach him here.
"Feed me, feed me," Maura gasped. She fought loose from Nick's grip and forced him out of her, ignoring his whining snarl of protest, knowing he'd never hurt her, and battened onto his cock as if she were the vampire, determined to shatter his infuriating control. His mindless thrashing turned to more rhythmic movements, though the rage of passion in them remained and the sounds he made were like a music she'd never heard before.
Nick had never before felt anything close to the physical insanity that burned through him as Maura fed on him in the only way she could. He'd never encouraged women in that direction except as a lure for their eventual submission, a submission that was always dependent upon keeping faces and throats in near proximity. He was the taker, not the taken, never before had he conceived there was pleasure to be had from another's power over him, until finally Maura's mouth and hands drove him beyond thought or strength or control and a full-throated howl tore from his throat as she urged him into a ferocious explosion that took them both by surprise.
Sweet, he always called her sweet but what rushed into Maura's mouth was sweeter and hotter and more full of an indescribable energy than she had ever imagined. Eight hundred years of stolen magic and borrowed lives blended into a spice more exotic than she could dream existed and its effect had to be at least as intoxicating as her own blood was to him, or maybe it was her unique chemistry that made her so susceptible to his. When the rush faltered Maura tried desperately to make it last, stopping only when she heard Nick cry out in pain. Breathless, and drunk beyond memory, Maura released Nick from her no-longer-greedy mouth and found herself unable to move. She remained where she was, face resting on Nick's now-motionless belly, both of them bloodied and stunned by pleasure.
"Oh my," he groaned at last, "all better..."
Maura knew this time he meant the weary ache he'd brought home with him, and everything else in his mind.
"Good," she whispered and stroked her fingers along the smooth skin of his thigh. After a few minutes she moved up and lay her head next to his on the pillow to see the familiar, loving smile warming his face. His hands began to move on her, idle fingertips touching and stroking here and there, enjoying the texture and warmth of her.
"What did I do," he asked, dazed, "what did I do before you?"
"Not nearly as well, I think." Once again Maura's passion was submerged in wit. "Afterglow" had never been her strong suit.
"No warm fuzzies from you," Nick sighed and gathered her into a hug.
"I guess you'll have to settle for hot spontaneous sex."
He was still smiling into her eyes.
"What?"
"Oh, I was just thinking of what a stuffy vampire I was before you came."
She chuckled wickedly. "I think you mean before you came... looks like I thrashed the stuffy right outta you, huh?"
He leaned over her for another deep kiss. "You got that right, mortal." Their skin separated stubbornly as he moved. "Made a real mess, though."
They crawled off the bed and Nick started the shower in the marble bathroom. Both were grateful they'd flung their clothes so far from the bed; they'd never have been able to explain bloodstains to the general public. The staff at Raven who kept these rooms, however, were the soul of discretion. Bloodstains in a vampire's boudoir were a given.
"Come on," Nick beckoned in his most seductive voice, "I'll wash your back."
Maura caught a look at herself in the mirror, her face and hair streaked with the bloodstained fruits of their lovemaking. "It's not my back I'm worried about."
They stood under the warm water, washing clean between lazy kisses, the fire replaced with calmer emotion. Nick got a good look at her as she stepped out of the shower, and began to laugh.
"What? Is my butt that big?" she demanded. He gave the butt in question an affectionate squeeze as he followed to reach for a towel.
"Your butt is just right. It's your new décor that got my attention."
She swung the bathroom door shut to look in the full-length mirror and gasped to see she was covered with hickeys. Well not covered, exactly, but well-decorated. Instead of pissing her off as usual, this time it made her giggle.
"God, I feel like such a floozy."
Nick arched an eyebrow. "You are such a floozy. Lucky me."
After they'd dressed Nick fished Maura's comb from her purse and worked the tangles from her toweled hair.
"Well at least you look respectable now. Maybe you can fool them," he jerked a thumb in the direction of the club proper.
She stood indignantly, hands on hips. "Well excuse me but who was all over me like Dracula on a virgin out there on the dance floor?"
"A 'virgin', huh, good thing you're not under oath," Nick deadpanned.
"Hey, you've been had plenty in your time, detective." Maura whacked Nick on the ass as he opened the door, and nearly collided with him as he turned to sweep an elegant bow.
"Never as deliciously as tonight, my love."
They tried to re-emerge unobtrusively but Miklos was pulling glasses from the cabinet by the end of the bar. His tolerant smirk announced that he knew exactly what they'd been up to. Nobody went back there for any other reason. Not to mention Nick's baying climax must have reached every vampire ear in the city.
"If you say a word to Janette I'll kill you," Maura warned Miklos, forgetting who she was talking to.
The smirk intensified as the vampire bartender reminded her, "Someone beat you to it. But believe me, she knows already. No walls are that soundproof."
Nick met his gaze with what he hoped was a properly smug expression. "Beats stacking glassware," he shot back.
Vachon passed by on the way from the cellar with a couple of bottles of wine. "Nice night for a quickie," he quipped. Before Maura could call him a pig… not an infrequent occurrence… he wrinkled his nose in very mortal-smartass fashion, and oinked. She swung at him and missed as he hustled behind the bar.
"Great, everyone knows what we've been up to," Maura complained.
Nick leaned close and assured her, "Yeah, jealousy is a terrible thing isn't it?" Strangely he wasn't in the mood to visit with Janette, wherever she may have been. "Come on, let's go home. I'm positively drained." He smiled devilishly.
Maura's eyebrows rose as she headed for the door. "Oh, save me. I've created a sleazoid."
Nick scurried up behind and snaked his arms around her waist, matching her step for step to the door. "Lucky you…"
When they'd made it out the door into the pool of streetlight Nick noticed a couple of tiny red dots on Maura's skin where her dress dipped low.
"Uh-oh, missed a spot."
Maura found herself abruptly dragged around the corner into the alley, pushed against the wall as Nick pulled her dress off one shoulder and hastily licked the smears of blood from her breast. His other hand slid up her skirt to massage her hip.
"Nick!" she squealed in very un-Maura fashion, looking around frantically to see if anyone was nearby, "can't you just gimme a Kleenex or something?" Then her protests ceased abruptly and her eyes slid shut as he switched to soft kisses punctuated by a velvety tongue. Positively prehensile, that tongue, and he wasn't shy about impressing her with it in private.
"Kleenex? How 'stuffy'," Nick mumbled into her skin. A whimper escaped her, much against her will, and she tangled her fingers in his hair.
"Yummy," he purred, and gave Maura's breast a last lazy, lip-dragging kiss before straightening again. "Careful what you wish for, floozy," he told her with another devilish smile, demurely slipping her dress into place again. "Might come back to bite you." Her stunned expression made Nick laugh out loud. "Well, well immortality has its advantages… the woman with an answer for everything is speechless. I thought I'd have to live another 800 years for that."
Recovering her equilibrium, Maura's look sharpened. "Think you're pretty slick, huh?"
Nick was still laughing but managed to reply, "When the tables are turned, you are a wonder to behold."
She smoothed her hair and rearranged her skirt with exaggerated dignity. "Yeah, well, good thing it hardly ever happens, huh."
When they'd gotten home Maura half expected Nick to jump her again. Instead, he was his normal self, rather more relaxed and much less morose than when he'd come in from work.
"How's the existential boo-boos doing?" she asked as he went into the kitchen for a drink.
He looked thoughtful for a minute. "All better. Really. Yeah I know what's waiting for me tomorrow at work, but it feels like I've checked the 'life sucks' at the door."
"Or burned it off, maybe," Maura suggested. She was only half joking. Nick joined her on the sofa and draped an arm around her.
"You could be right, you know. You certainly grabbed my attention enough to drive dull care away."