Out-take 1: Meeting The Babe
I couldn't just let The Receiving End go. So here I am with the companion series. This is gonna follow other aspects of the story, both prequel one shots and sequel one shots.
Peter would be lying if he said that life post-Maria wasn't easier. Luckily he wasn't one for lying so he didn't pretend to miss the cold-hearted Southern bitch. He was definitely no masochist.
Of course there was a still a certain wariness, he always had to scout out a new area, make sure that the bane of his undead existence hadn't found him or Char again. He doubted he would ever truly feel safe again, even if he put continents between himself and Maria. But keeping a cautious eye out could be suggested at any time and was a small price to pay for this freedom.
The nomadic life fit him like a glove. He loved the lack of roots, the way he was beholden to no one. Well no one but his little slip of a sister, but he wouldn't giver her up for the world. Okay and maybe the Major. His brother in arms who'd let him escape from the Southern wars. But apart from them two people he was beholden to no one.
It was a pleasant life, he could eat at will, not because he was desperate after some blood shed and placed in a pit of bleeding humans testing every scrap of his control. No food was easy to come by, and with a change of heart without the guilt that also came attached to it as well. He had decided to hunt criminals, those that poisoned the world or themselves. Maybe he shouldn't be playing judge jury and executioner but it was a damn sight better than feeding mercilessly on children, on innocents, on the good of this world.
Of course there was the 'vegetarian' alternative, but Jasper could keep that to himself, he'd tried it once, and that had been more than enough times for him.
So that had led him to be where he is now. Sitting in a human café, surrounded by humans, nursing (or at least pretending to) a small coffee. Up in the north, where wars weren't waged every day Peter had found a peace in just watching humans. They were fascinating creatures as they went about their day, they were so connected, passing on these silent little messages without even realising and yet they were always attached to these little devices that made them completely ignorant to each other. It was the most unsociably sociable thing Peter had ever seen. Maybe there was also a part of him hoping that one of these creatures was his mate. But he was sure he didn't deserve one of them. It was just a little wish that beat silently at the bottom of his very dead heart.
Char had never really understood his fascination with dinner but as long as he stayed safe and didn't reveal himself to any humans then she let him be. She would forever be grateful to him and the Major for freeing her from the wars. She had always been too gentle for such bloodshed.
The warm coffee felt pleasant under his hands, a far cry from the cold he usually felt. He felt comfortable in the situation, his eyes the darkest crimson due to the fact he had recently fed. It was always easier to be around masses of humans when he was fully sated. He was surprised he had ended up in Arizona... it was a little further south than he usually ventured and a lot sunnier. But the troublesome sun was setting and he knew that he was far from the bloodshed in Maria's states so he ignored his misgivings.
He had been here for just over two hours, and he could see the teenager at the counter giving him a funny look as his drink got progressively colder and he still didn't move. They always got a little antsy when people came to their establishments, used up their tables yet didn't spend an ample amount of money. He supposed he should go, he should at least make sure Char was okay, he'd wasted enough time today. With an unneeded sigh Peter went to stand up, his coffee cup held in his hand. But these thoughts were replaced with curiosity as the bell above the door jingled.
A woman walked through the door, she was young, her clothes simple and distressed as if she didn't have the money for something more extravagant. Her hair was thrown up into the mockery of a ponytail, wisps escaping everywhere as if she had put it up in a rush whilst doing a thousand other things at the same time. She pushed the door closed behind her shivering from the little breeze that passed. Strapped to her front was a babe. It was a young thing, still a new born, the woman supported it's head whilst rummaging in her pockets for some change.
As she placed in her order (strong, black and large), Peter sighed once again as he realised there wasn't anything here to capture his attention, he'd seen many a parent in his years though the absence of fathers making sure child and spouse were well and safe in public became increasingly rarer. He continued on, pulling his jacket on (all for show of course), when the babe started crying.
The wails were piercing to his sensitive vampire ears and even then he was sure it would be a great annoyance to the other less sensitive humans. He could see the other patrons in the café scrunching their noses up in irritation, as if the noise was being caused on purpose to offend them in their daily activities. The woman visibly deflated, her eyes darkening with stress, it was a look that said the child's wails had occurred one too many times. She jiggled up and down, trying to coax the child into silence. "Come on Bella, be quiet for mama." It didn't really work. The babe's cries, if anything, got louder.
Peter wasn't entirely sure what drove him to do it but he chucked his own coffee in the rubbish bin, placed a fiver on the counter, paying for the woman's drink. It wasn't the mother's desperate eyes that drove him, maybe it was something to do with the child, something so innocent shouldn't be so distressed. He then proceeded to place a hand on the woman's back leading her to his just vacated seat. She looked up quickly in confusion and thanks before returning to the still wailing child in her arms. Though her focus was on her child the woman still managed to gracefully collapse into the proffered seat as if has prior practice. It still continued, even though it's mother had changed a number of times how she attempted to calm the child. The mother had also checked the obvious things, trying to rock it to sleep, offering the girl a ready-made bottle, sniffing her bottom to make sure it wasn't just plain discomfort. But nothing, thus far, had worked.
"What's her name?" Peter asked the question over the wailing. The woman looked up at him irritated and suspicious. She couldn't necessarily blame him.
"Isabella. Two weeks old." Peter nodded. Isabella, meaning beautiful, it definitely matched the babe.
"My little sister was very irritable when she was young," He didn't mention that that was nearly 150 years ago now, "But my mama finally found something that never failed to calm it down. If you want, drink your coffee and I'll calm her down for you."
He could see the woman arguing with herself. It was somewhere between suspicion at this handsome man, and tiredness after sleepless nights with her child. She looked between the coffee and the whimpering child before unbuckling the straps from around her waist and handing over the whimpering child.
"Thank you. You'll have to show me if it works." She sounded doubtful, much like his mama had when she first heard of the way to calm a child.
The child was just too adorable, she fit easily into the crook of his elbow. As she looked up at him with big, expressive brown eyes her tears slowed slightly out of sheer curiosity before her wailing started up again. This new thing was not exciting enough to draw her from her convictions. Peter felt an emotion akin to fondness run through him. She was just perfect, and not afraid of him like humans, even new-borns usually were. It made no sense but he felt an immediate love for this child run through him.
Okay the crying was definitely getting irritating now. He picked up the child. He placed her head against his shoulder before leaning down, his mouth against his neck. He cooed softly in her ear at first. He felt like a parent, distressed at hearing his little girl's sobs, just wanting her to quiet down. Her scent was so close yet strangely there was no desire for her blood, in fact he felt a need to protect the little thing, especially as he felt her shuddering sobs against his hard body.
When she still continued crying he blew lightly on her neck, like his mama had always done with Char. She sobs stopped. He let out another breath of air, the whimpering stopped, he did it one final time and then finally he was awarded with the most adorable little giggle. He returned her notion with a smile. That wave of love strengthening even more.
He had held a number of children, it made no sense that he felt such a bond to this one, but he did. She was special. But then reality came crashing back down.
"Thank you so much sir. I've never seen her quiet down so quickly before. She usually rebels even more against strangers." The woman, the girls mother was looking at him with something akin to wonder.
"Name's Peter. And it was no problem, you've got an adorable one here. Cherish her." The woman had nodded before laying out the baby carrier on the table. She reached out for her child.
"Peter then, thank you. Name's Renee. Maybe I'll see you about some time. I should be heading off now though." He didn't want to, he felt an irrational desire to say 'no' to run with the child. He didn't though. He placed a gentle kiss on the baby's nose, her eyes crossing as she tried to keep eye contact, before placing her back in her mother's arms.
And then he walked away without looking back. If he'd looked back he would have done something stupid.
From that moment on, his life had inexplicably linked to this child's. Little Isabella, his Boo.
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