The Common Grounds smelled like, well, coffee. Myrnin (donno last name) never had a taste for coffee, but he felt like paying the owner a visit. Oliver. The last time he saw Oliver, was when they were riding in a limo with that ghastly Pennywell talking to Claire Danvers. Further into their conversation, Oliver shoved a stake into Myrnin. That wasn't nice at all.

So he decided to leave his lab, walk in public all the way to his almost-killer's place of work. Morganville, Texas was hot, dusty, and hot. Did I mention hot? The sun beats down on you all day. Anyhow, Myrnin walked into the Common Grounds coffee bar around 3 p.m. He took off his ridiculous-looking sun hat that hat a massive feather on the right side. Hey, anything to keep from spontaneously combusting.

He began to search for the little bastard when Eve called out to him. Myrnin stood from where he was looking, under a table, hoping to find Oliver cowering in fear, and walked over to the counter. Myrnin adjusted his brown frock coat and flipped black hair out of his eyes. He looked upon Eve questionably. White face, blood red lips, Avril Lavigne eyes.

What had gone wrong with this child? "What are you doing here?" she whispered angrily, "If Oliver-"

"Ah, yes. Speaking of the devil, where is the little coward? Hiding perhaps?" Myrnin looked around the room, deciphering all the smells, searching for Oliver's blood scent.

"What do you want with him?" Eve asked while she cleaned a plate. "We have… unsettled business…" Myrnin hissed acidly. "Well, take it somewhere else," Eve asked, now sounding whiny. Just as Eve said "else", Oliver walked out of his office near the back of the store. Myrnin glanced up and grinned at him menacingly.

Oliver rolled his eyes, turned, and walked back into his room. "Good day milady." Myrnin mimed tipping a hat, stood, and waltzed over to Oliver's office. He re-opened the door and leaned over the desk at which he was sitting. "What in the hell do you want Myrnin?" Oliver looked up from a book, "Shouldn't you be in a cage or something?" Myrnin glared at him.

"You know you're a prick, right?"

"A what?"

"Prick. P-r-i-c-k. It's slang for a total-"

"I know what it means you fool. I'm just wondering why-"

"Just stating the obvious."

"I thought the captain was dead. I remember me snapping his spine. As if he had one," Oliver stood, "Maybe I should try again."

Myrnin smirked at him. "On behalf of all of Morganville, I give you this." Myrnin punched Oliver right across the jaw. Hard. (Hey, if the dude can bend iron he can sure pack a punch.)

Oliver staggered backwards and knocked into the wall behind him. Myrnin shook his fist and smiled in satisfaction.

"God I've always wanted to do that."

Oliver looked at Myrnin; his eyes flaring red. Myrnin hopped up on the desk and looked down on Oliver, as if he was king, and Oliver was a dirty peasant.

"Now say you're sorry."

"What?!"

"You heard me, wretch. Say you're sorry for stabbing that wood into my chest cavity."

"In the limo? You've got to be-"

"No. Say it," Myrnin growled. As Oliver's lip healed, he looked thoughtful. Then he shrugged. "You are a complete idiot," Oliver responded breathlessly, "Never." Oliver leaped up, and tackled Myrnin off the desk. He pinned him to the ground. The door swung open and then there were vicious whispers going through the room. Oliver sat on Myrnin like a rug.

"Get out, with what dignity you have left." "Not until you say you're sorry." Oliver growled at Myrnin, a deep low badger-like growl, and punched Myrnin.

Myrnin used his legs to catapult Oliver out the door and in the process, did a back flip to get on his feet. Oliver was just getting up when Myrnin turned around. Eve was shouting at Oliver, "Oliver! What's going on?! Stop!"

Oliver was about to call back when Myrnin grabbed a handful of Oliver's graying hair and forced his head back, exposing his throat. "Say it or I'll bite you," Myrnin said cheerfully. "You wouldn't dare." Myrnin shrugged, leaned down and bit Oliver.

The whole room went quiet.

Eve screamed at Myrnin, "AH! STOP!!"

It was really only a taste, though. Oliver shoved Myrnin away. Myrnin staggered back, and hit the wall. Oliver found his legs and in a flash, had Myrnin by the collar of his shirt. Oliver took a quick look around. Most people, who had the sense to, left. Oliver turned back to Myrnin. "You should leave. You're bad for business." "Not until-" Oliver took hold of Myrnin's forehead, forced his head forward, and then banged it against the wall. Myrnin got a drunken look and quietly said, "Ow." "Let's see, should I break your neck, or crush your windpipe, hm?"

"Say it," Myrnin said, still woozy.

Oliver smirked, "Neck it is." Oliver got a hold of Myrnin's throat.

"Oliver," an icy voice growled. Oliver stopped smirking and loosened his grip on Myrnin. "Amelie," Oliver dropped him; Myrnin fell on his butt, "What are you doing here?"

"The question is, what is going on?" Amelie folded her arms across her chest, looking like more of an angry mother, than an almighty vampire founder. Oliver turned and immediately pointed at Myrnin.

"He started it," Oliver said like a cool tattle tale. Myrnin got a hold of his senses and hopped to his feet. He shoved Oliver aside to step ahead of him.

"I beg to differ." "Oh, shut up you moronic excuse for a vampire." Myrnin kicked backwards, his foot hitting Oliver's shin. Oliver responded with a shove. "Stop it! You both are acting like children! What happened here??"

"Well, Myrnin decided to come here and make me apologize for getting him under control." "Under control?? The only thing you want control of is Mor-" "Okay, that's it. Both of you just go." Amelie put her first two fingers of her right hand to her temple. Oliver grumbled something as he left. Before Myrnin could leave, Amelie caught him. "What were you thinking? Coming here, attacking Oliver? Have you gone mad?"

"Again?"

Amelie sighed, "Again."

Myrnin smirked. "No Milady. I was simply requesting an apology. That and I have really been meaning to, as the teenagers say it, 'punch his face in.'" Amelie got an irritated look. "Just don't do it again. Okay?" Amelie turned for the door; Myrnin spoke again. "How did you know what was going on?" The White Queen turned her head. "Eve called Claire, who phoned me. Communication of the 21st century is amazing." "Indeed. Sending a hawk would have taken at least 4 hours," Myrnin chuckled. Amelie smiled and walked out swiftly.

Myrnin breathed out heavily and looked for his sun hat. "Looking for this?" Eve handed Myrnin his hat, which he took happily.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you. Oliver really had it coming, and I heard that punch. Thanks, man." Eve held out her closed fist. Myrnin stood there, confused. "It's called a knuckle touch." Myrnin poked Eve's middle knuckle, grinned, put on his hat, and left merrily.

"That crazy old man. I don't know how Claire does it."