Persephone, sit.

Me: Hey, this isn't a sidestory for anything! Some very random drabble where Lenobia floors Loren Blake. Slight inspiration taken from Disney's the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Funny stuff.

Shove.

"No."

Another shove.

"Not yet girl."

This time, Persephone shoved her mistress full on in the back. An hour and a half's work, and nothing to show for it. Lenobia lost her balance temporarily, before growling under her breath and pulling out a packet of extra strong mints from her waistcoat pocket. Persephone's ears immediately switched from backwards to forwards, from pissed, to 'I love you mummy'. Lenobia rolled her eyes and she treated the mare and replaced the mints.

"Rude does not even begin to cover it." She muttered, undoing the chinstrap of her riding-hat and pulling it off her head, scraping her flat fringe from her forehead and back to life. She supposed Persephone earned it. Despite vampyres being nocturnal, horses were very much diurnal, and the black mare certainly didn't appreciate being gotten up from her stable at all hours of the night to work.

A shuffling caused Lenobia's senses to sharpen. Like a the sole of a shoe against concrete. She stiffened – all the fledglings should have long been in bed, any second the Sun would appear over the horizon. It wasn't her imagination, of that she was sure. Maybe it had been a horse shuffling in one of the stables... She shook her head to herself and carried on, dropping her dressage whip onto the floor.

Walking around the corner of the stable block and onto the line, she came up against something tall and dark, something that came nearer even when she backed off. Much too near.

Now Lenobia knew her martial arts, but to her, nothing worked quite like the traditional classic.

Kicking them in the balls and running like Hell.

Or a slight variation of the traditional classic, kicking them in the balls and then standing and watching as they howl.

That'll work.

With lightning speed, she buried the toe of her Konig riding boot deep into the crotch of whoever it was in front of them, and stood back as they howled in agony and stumbled a few feet backwards, collapsing to the concrete floor. The howl revealed a voice so familiar that she almost laughed. More pissed than a freshly castrated bull, she pursed her lips, her eyes like slits, and held her hand up in front of the horse's face and pointed downwards.

"Persephone, sit."

The figure complained and his face transformed to one of complete shock as he saw the rear end of a horse coming towards him. "No!" he shrieked, moving backwards to avoid being crushed by three quarters of a ton of horse's backside, only succeeded in wedging himself fast between the wall and said horse's backside. Lenobia smiled as she heard the figure choking.

"GET THIS THING OFF ME!!!!!"

Lenobia covered her mouth in mock surprise. "Oh!" she said, the sarcasm dripping from her tongue, "Dear I'm sorry!" she wagged her finger at the horse, "Naught horse! Naughty!" She leant against the knee-roll of her Jaguar saddle casually, crossing her legs and taking her weight on her elbow, "She's just impossible, really, I can't take her anywhere."

Struggling for air, Loren heaved himself from against the wall and clear of Persephone's rear end. Sitting up, he glared at her with his mahogany eyes. "You're out late." He seethed.

Lenobia allowed one eyebrow to rise and replied with equal venom. "Just because poets don't work overtime Loren, on the contrary I find it hard to believe that they do, indeed, do any work, I see no reason why you should have to inflict the passing of your free time on the rest of us."

His face changed – it was like he had completely forgotten about what had just transpired. His features softened, and he elegantly got to his feet. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"If, where you come from, it is considered a welcoming gesture to kick someone in the bollocks."

"Oh come on." He said.

She glared. "The only people I am happy to see are people who make themselves useful to me, and let's face it Loren, you're about at useful as a cat flap in an elephant house."

"Such a way with words, Lenobia. It's very..." he looked to the side for a moment, as if searching for the word, "aphrodisiacal." He leant backwards, perching on a water vat behind him, so his feet were not flat on the floor, but still resting. The whole manoeuvre was to make his already-too-tight trousers look even tighter. Laughable really, it wasn't that big. "Are you sure there's no way I could be, of use, to you?"

"Kicking a man in the balls just isn't what it used to be is it eh Loren?"

He minisculely jiggled his hips. "It takes more than that to put me off."

"Flattering words, of course, from a man who would go to bed with the kitchen sink if it put on a tutu." Loren looked peeved. "Good God Loren is Neferet that bad?" her face lit up, "Here, got something for you..." she said, reaching into the tackroom and pulling out a long stick.

He looked confused. "What is it?"

"A broom-handle." She said, malice laced her voice, "Go and have some proper fun with it. I would offer you a new one, but it would be a waste of a broom."

"You think that's what I want?"

Lenobia placed a hand on her hip. "Instead of your pathetic attempts at trying to seduce me, did you ever consider just asking me what it is you want? So then you can get out of my way."

"I was just finding inspiration, for some poetry."

Lenobia scoffed and threw her head back in laughter. "So you find inspiration in the aroma of horse shit do you?" She slapped her hand on his shoulder, "If you gave up your hobby of seducing teenage girls for a few minutes, you might realise how ridiculous you sound. Of course you might not do, I'm just guessing..."

He leant down so that his face was inches from hers. "Maybe I found inspiration in you..." he whispered.

She considered it. "So again, the aroma of horse shit." she could see in his eyes he was beginning to get annoyed. Excellent. To top it off, she grabbed his cheeks in her hands, and made a soppy face. "Aww..." her voice became patronising, "Did Baby-Lowen not get what he want?" she made her face serious again. Letting go of his cheeks, she clasped his jaw in one hand. "You must think I was born yesterday." she seethed, spitting poison like a snake, before removing her hand, forming it into a fist and whacking it across the side of his face as hard as she could, sending him flying backwards into the dirt. Rolling her eyes, she walked off, leading Persephone down the line to her stable, where she proceeded to untack her.

Loren scrambled after her, his pristine black outfit now covered in dirt. In his final effort, he held out his palms in a pissed-off sort of shrug, as if he couldn't understand why she had done it. "What was that for???" he said, dropping his hands and letting them slap limply down against his thighs.

"Loren, whilst I am sure that any conscience that you might have had before you met Neferet is long gone and that I am probably wasting my breath in telling you this; at the end of the day after you've lied slithered and wangled your way into unsuspecting teenage girls' knickers, you have proven yourself no better, no less naive, no less a tool than them themselves."

This time he genuinely looked confused. "What do you mean?" he said, his gaze not wavering from me.

She looked at him almost pitifully and let her voice become more sympathetic. "Loren, you use your seductive charms to lure people into telling you whatever it is you need to know, but you're only the middle man." she explained. "Have you never realised that Neferet uses you in the same way that you use your victims? Let me ask you something: In your entire time here at the Tulsa House of Night, have you ever had a moment when you weren't being a spy? When you did something off your own bat? When you made a decision for yourself? When was the last time you wrote poetry that was wasn't for her or for one of those girls? Hm?"

"You know nothing." He said, his voice so low it was almost a growl.

"It's a waste. It's waste of your time, and everybody else's time. It's a waste of your soul." she took steps towards his stiff body, his handsome face unmoving, his jaw set, "One day, you will find someone who you truly love, who would treat you well, except she won't be able to, because she won't be able to trust you. And that hurts." He folded his arms casually, "So for Nyx's sake Loren, get a mind of your own!!! Relationships work two ways you know."

"You're wrong." He growled, "What do you take me for? A slave? A puppet?"

Lenobia gave a small, relaxed shrug. "Why not?" she asked, "Because that's certainly what it looks like from where I stand."

"You're standing in horse-shit, don't forget."

She gave a brief glance down at her mucky boots. "Well..." she said, "At least I'm not standing in bullshit, which is more than can be said for you."

He looked furious, like he was going to implode at any minute. "We shall see." He said before storming out, shielding his eyes from the light as he headed back to the main building.

"We all shall." She said as she watched his retreating form, before shouting after him, "But take a shower first, to say you smell like a damn horse is an understatement!!!"

Persephone blew her nose noisily.

"Sorry girl."

R&R!