Title : The First Bite Of The Winter
Author : DiBee (di_50)
Characters/pairing : Helen, Nikola, Helen/Nikola friendship, mentions of : Helen/John, James, Nigel, and Gregory Magnus.
Rating : PG-13, see warnings.
Warnings : Blood! (and vampire)
Challenge : First time, prompt #1 from the sfaflashfic community on livejournal
Summary : As winter is about to begin, something else is about to change. Nikola finds himself craving for blood beyond reason, and Helen tries to find a way to help.
"Nikola!"
Helen's voice betrayed her emotions far more than was acceptable for a young lady of her condition. And hell if she cared!
There was as an urgency in her voice, pain as much as... something else, definitely inappropriate for an engaged woman. The way her tone had made the skin of her neck vibrate was making Nikola's hands shake in turn.
She called his name one more time, meaning to stop him this time and he settled his hand on her waist before changing back to his more human form in a hiss, kissing the spot where her shoulder met her neck one last time.
He met her eyes, and what he saw there made him shiver inside. How could one... understand so much. There was no disdain, no regret, not even pain in her eyes. She was just understanding, caring, so Helen he felt a sudden tinge of jealousy tear at his heart. Druitt really was one lucky bastard.
"Thank you, Helen." His accent sharper than ever, humbled by the situation, he averted his eyes, only to feel her hand settle under his chin, making him look right in her eyes again. There was kind of a smile, she whispered "Any time" against his lips, and just a fleeting touch later, she was at the other end of the room, working on whatever remedy could fix his craving for blood more effectively than her own.
He unconsciously licked his lips, catching the last of her taste, wondering if he would ever be able to get past the attraction he felt toward her now that he had drank her blood.
When he had arrived earlier on the evening in her father's study, he had nearly been shaking, his accent so thick she had had to make him repeat what he was nearly whimpering. He had seen her eyes go wide when she had understood. However, it was not for her life, her blood than she had feared, but for that of others. He would have admired it in her had his eyes not already been stuck on her neck. Her beautiful, pale, bare neck. He had gulped, suddenly realizing coming here would not help his craving, at least not immediately.
After the injection, they had all manifested various side effects, from vomiting to throbbing headaches in James' case, but his had been the most dramatic, and dealing with his need for hemoglobin had been the most pressing issue. James, Helen, as well as Gregory had worked on that, sometimes helped by Griffin's talents in chemistry, while Nikola waited, pacing, fighting his inner demon under John's careful, and rather hateful, watch. It certainly was not his brightest moment of all. The "cure" they had concocted had worked rather well so far, until that night, and he had run toward the usual center of the Five's brainstorming, Magnus' Manor.
He had been about to turn around, and run away when Helen had reminded her that her father was visiting a colleague up south, James was at his cousin's wedding, John elsewhere occupied -She wouldn't say, he wouldn't ask- Nigel... Well, Nigel was what he was, wherever he was was his concern only.
It had taken all of Nikola's will to not be tempted by the soft and exposed skin of Helen's neck when she had let him in, and she had obviously noticed, leading the way to the laboratory, gesturing toward the seat at the far end of the room, so that he wouldn't be too close to her as she worked. On her own, there was hardly anything she could do, but she needed to find a solution that would keep him sane, and others safe for the time being, at least until the others came back.
He had seen worry in her eyes as she noticed him changing. He couldn't control it anymore, and for once regretted John's presence that usually helped keeping the worst part of him at bay. Fighting against the wind was no fun, and John would never let himself caught. Moreover, Nikola did not crave his blood as much as Helen's, yet it was not repulsive enough that he hadn't reached for his colleague's neck a couple time at the worst of his hardships.
At some point, he had noticed Helen shaking her head over the delicate machinery, different vials of blood in several phases before her eyes. She had turned back, and no matter how powerful he felt as a vampire, he was afraid. Afraid by what he had seen in her eyes. There was no fear, just great determination. She had walked toward him, making him step back until he had his back to the wall, her presence suddenly keeping him in check more surely than John imposing one ever had.
"Helen, no!"
He would have begged had he believed it would have changed something. But she had made her mind, and he knew nothing could go against it unless the world was to collide under their feet right this moment, -and no matter how cold the beginning of the winter outside proved, it was still highly unlikely.
"I rather it to be me than some poor creature outside. I know you can restrain yourself, I trust you for that." He had shaken his head, not quite sure he could stop if he was to taste her blood of all things.
One more step toward him, and he could smell her scent, the vampire traits in him appreciating every detail of his position. She had put her hands on his shoulders, bent her neck just enough...
The first drop of blood to reach him had made him doubt his self-control. He had tasted blood before, but it had never been this... exhilarating!
Now, she was bent over the vials again, trying to find some solution that would be surer, and last longer than her offering her own blood. They hadn't spoken a word since she had gone back to work, but he knew she would make sure none of their friends and colleagues would come to know about her 'donation'. As he approached, he lifted his hands, his fingertips treading lightly over the bruised skin. He wondered how she would be able to hide this from Druitt, before realizing just how fast it had healed already. A few more hours, and there probably wouldn't be any trace of his weakness on her skin. So fair, so luminous, so...
"Nikola." Her voice was a warning, but there was no anger in her voice as she put her own hand atop of his, covering the patch of skin. After a couple seconds, she turned to face him, noticing he had calmed down, seemingly in control.
"Nikola, I want you to promise me you will come to me if this is to happen again. The world has enough to worry of one Jack the Ripper without needing a vampire roaming the streets."
He had kept his promise, there had been a couple other running home to her. She had never reproached him anything, making it easier for the both of them to face each other in the presence of others. And there had been that one time... He had been in far worse state than usual, sinking his fangs in her neck as soon as she had closed the door. She hadn't tried to stop him, and he had had to catch her before she fell, having left her weaker than he ever had. It was not that long after the terrible revelation of the identity of Whitechapel Murderer, and she was not feeling so good already. He knew for a fact it had been weeks since she had ventured outside unless it was strictly necessary. He had been worried, she had reassured him with a smile, brushing her lips past his, this time kissing him with as much passion as she could muster. She was pale, too pale, but her lips had remained strikingly red, he had had to leave her to sit on the rug for a moment before being able to reach for her to help her up again, not willing to risk killing her by getting too close.
It was a sort of wicked game, almost a tradition for them both, getting closer, putting some distance between one another, and coming close again.
Helen reminisced that first day, the first bite, the strongest link that had ever bound her to the former vampire. She reached for her neck, knowing full well there was nothing left of the place where his teeth had torn her skin, feeling a small tingling as her fingers brushed past it.
Facing the window, she had her back to the door, and thought she was just too far immersed in the past times when she smelled what was unconditionally 'him'. Even with a thick rug on the wooden floor, he wouldn't be so silent. Would he?
"Missing me, have we?"
Since de-vamping himself, his voice had lost the most of its cheerfulness, and there was as much sadness as playfulness in his words.
"Deeply." She thought she felt a sting in her neck as she said so. Her body, at least, seemed to agree. She did not, could not, turn around, not quite ready to face his eyes, not about to reveal just how much she regretted that special relationships they had once shared. It had begun so simply, a semi-gentle bite in her neck. No commitment, really. Just two friends, two very good friends, and yet another pact in blood. It seemed like blood would forever haunt each and every one of them, like a shadow behind the curtains during the winter months.