Chapter 1: I am Our You

Aiden held his hand to the doorbell. He wasn't even sure that ringing the doorbell was a good idea. The button was green, caked over with moss and had a strange black scratch.

He discovered later that the black scratch didn't transfer to his finger, but that didn't ease his oogy-factor.

Imagine that: being close to two hundred years old and a blood sucking murderer, he would have thought that goo wouldn't make him squeamish. But even before his afterlife, putting his finger on slimy soft mush always made him shudder. Then again, it wasn't just the slimy doorbell that made his heightened senses stand on edge.

If the Mother of all vampires tells you she wants you to meet with the chosen representative of the Old Ones branched in Briton, you better get nervous. The grotesque legacy of the Old Ones in the European brood far outweighed any combined story of the Dutchmen in the Americas. Of course, they had a longer history to give them that edge, but even with the sinister planning and preparing the Dutch did, brutality among humans was rarely one of them.

Vampiric massacres stained the history of the Britain since as early as the 7th century. And though society had grown some, the Old Ones of Europe didn't seem to enjoy changing pace.

'Old dogs.' Aiden muttered, wiping his fingers on the seat of his tight blue jeans.

It took the occupant of the run down South End home a good five minutes to answer the door. And when he did, he pulled the door only as far as the chain allowed and just glared at him with bloodshot red eyes. "Yeah?"

Not quite what the vampire had expected. He nodded trying to process it before tightening his jaw and his fist. He forced himself a taut smile and leaned forward as if what he had to say was a secret. It may have been, but all he managed to say was, "John Mitchell?"

"Yeah," he repeated measuring the nurse with his darkened eyes.

"I'm Aiden Waite. Mother sent me."

"Already figured that much," he replied, his voice thick with some kind of darkness. Aiden couldn't decided if that darkness was disgust, superiority or suspicion. Some combination of all three, perhaps. Somewhat even more unsettled by the rudeness and less by the circumstance, Aiden let a bit of smugness creep into his defenses.

John was quite a young man when he turned- he was a greasy representation of his family and obviously hadn't fed in a few hours, maybe a few days. Still, this did not seem to change the predicament much. He was once the vampire king of Bristol. Aiden didn't know how that worked there, but here, king was a title difficult to get and much more difficult to survive. the King of the North Tip was constantly at territory disputes with the King of New York. Rightfully so, sine he took all of the land from Maine to Connecticut from the New York king's sister through sabotage and ash.

"May I come in?" he squeezed as bitterly polite as he could make it.

Finding no obvious fault in him, John Mitchell shrugged then snarked, "I don't own the joint, you don't need my concent. And anyway, you're not gonna burn if you stay out there."

As the door to the chalet closed, Aiden tried not to let himself roll his eyes. The quip about the popular fiction that vampires were completely intolerable to sunlight helped vampires try and live modern lives, but it was a tiresome and tasteless joke. The chain to the door unhitched and the British vampire let the door swing open. Aiden gathered his features so as not to show his disrespect.

King of a City meeting with the Messenger of Mother- Exiled messenger no less. Somehow Aiden felt that he was being punished…. again.

The American followed the visitor into the dark house. It was likely built in the 16th century and likely hadn't been maintained since. The rundown corner of South End stood distinct from the rest of the upscale city. Considering it was a corner of vampire homes, it wouldn't be a surprise that the area was protected from land ordinances or safety requirements set up by any human government.

Pity; the place could be beautiful of they had only put some care into it.

The moment the vampire stepped into the home, he had to stifle a gag. It was some strange urge to fight, throw up or (by odd quirk of circumstance) watch a video with his room mate. Werewolf permeated the room, the whole house, and though the whole estate had been seared down with Clorox, Aiden's sense couldn't help but cry out wolf.

"Blood?" John asked as he wandered into the kitchen. Aiden followed half nervous of what he should find, and was slightly relieved when the first thing he noticed was a young woman of about twenty playing x-box on the kitchen CRT-TV. There was a rope on her ankle, but it was tied on by a knot and she didn't seem bothered by it.

More for show, maybe.

She looked at him, dark circles pooled around her blue-grayed eyes and they seemed a bit shot from lack of sleep. For a moment he saw fear there; but Aiden shook his head. He was really turned off by teens. Almost always perpetually hungry, the thought of eating a kid made him queasy. Especially now a days that he had the ability to be picky.

Relieved she went back to playing whatever videogame they had set up for her. She wasn't very affected by the visitor. Aiden assumed he had some other tastes as well, maybe the Family should have found him a young boy instead. The passing thought made his guts swim.

Aiden chuckled then tried to shake the uncomfortable feeling off. Modern world with modernized possessions, antique man with antiquated manners. Some things he knew he should change, but still had some moral trouble doing so.

Murder, fine—but gay sex, gross.

"Coffee or tea then?" the other vampire asked, he sighed a bit.

"Yeah, sure. Do you have black coffee?"

"I only have the instant kind."

"That's fine," Aiden observed the apartment for signs of wolf fights, or blood bars, or any other tale sign of its vampric ownership. But besides the smell and the man before him with no heartbeat, everything seemed like a typical American household with a suitcase of clothes in the living room, and a box of day-stale pizza.

"Guests?" Aiden asked, taking the warm mug from the British counterpart. When John gave the other vampire a quizzical look, the nurse indicated toward the half eaten pepperoni pizza.

"My room mate came over for the night. He's not one of us." Then he looked a bit shocked, as if he hadn't meant to say it so easily. Aiden just made a face that could have mean, 'okay', 'sure', 'not judging-but kind of'. Then just chuckled.

"Mine neither." Though he could have imagined it would be difficult to live with a human room mate. Especially since the fresh supply of blood would be walking around the house constantly. "Movie night last night."

John just nodded cautiously, before adding, "yeah, you know… chilling with the bro's all night. Watching the tube."

"Drinking a beer…" last night was a full moon, his evening taking care of Josh was anything but kicking back with the home-boys. Though with the recent re-covering of his slightly premature burial, the ghouls have been quiet. Watching his vampire's-best-friend, aka the 'wolf, was relatively event less. Even Josh's dark side seemed somewhat satiated.

It had been the first month in the year that Nora was going to be away during the moon, and Aiden had been worried about it. And with the underground Cage looking for new meat, the vampire and his uncanny roommates all decided that ripping up the cellar of their already run down house would be better than trying to prevent a rampant werewolf from getting collected by the undead willing to fight them. Seemed there needn't be any other worry. Of course, an indoor transformation at night that meant major munchies in the morning. Aiden had a pack of cold B+ while he watched his room mate devour two large subways and a party-sized bag of cheetos before their 8am shift.

"So, John," Aiden rested his shoulders and lowered the cup. "How should we start?"

"Can address me as Mitchell," he added, as if there were some sudden measure of causality in the conversation, "Hardly anyone calls me John."

"Whatever." Aiden thought the request strange, but not so strange that he wouldn't go along with it. "Mitchell could be a first name."

"The Council?"

"Right." Now he decides to be business, "You are of Mother's older, family."

"Sort of. I haven't been with the Old Ones for very long." And Aiden got the impression he didn't ever intend to be. "I don't know much about the etiquette when it comes to the dealings."

"Ah." That explained. "Well, I've been out of the family for the past decade, exiled for all of a week, and then grounded for the summer. So you don't have to worry about the Old way's etiquette with me."

For some reason, this perked the other vampire up. "Really, why?"

"Long story." And Aiden let the rest emphasize on the 'long'. "Preparations have been made for Mr Snow's visit. Mother has already settled the agenda once your Viceroy accepts." Aiden tried to pay close attention to the reactions Mitchell made, but he showed surprisingly little interest in the business. "Snow hasn't been to the Americas since Columbus, I hear. I hope he will be pleased with it."

"He seems to think that he will not enjoy America." The man replied, "I don't know what's worse though, having heard the reputation of Mother. Already well past two thousand years old, and she has more strength and power than any of the young ones, and none of their weaknesses."

He meant the invitations, the guilt, the seeming magic that comes with vampire age. Despite Snow's history reaching as far back as a thousand years before Christ, he was scorned in quite underground circles for his handicaps. He was an old dark man in a bright new world.

"She can Flatter a man to forget how to breathe without even saying anything. "

"Flatter?" Aiden repeated not familiar with the term.

"Like that hypnosis that the old ones can do. You do know it."

"We don't actually have a term for it," he admitted, he looked at him, "You can't?"

"Can you?"

"Yes." The awkward nature of the question just made for an awkward answer. And it was then, Aiden realized that he was, in fact, older than his British counterpart. Then again, his skills had been honed during his decades as the right hand manservant of the Daughter. Almost as ancient as her mother. Even though he was barely older than 200 year of age, he did have some skills rivaling those almost a thousand. He did not say so though.

John Mitchell had a reputation among the community, even in America- though Aiden had to say it didn't do much justice to his greasy suspicious tendencies. He wasn't very intimidating, coffee over small girls, the inability to hypnotize victims. Aiden started to wonder who was really being punished in this arrangement.

They finished the discussion about the Snow's visit; beat out details, and then tried to bid hasty dealings and going-ons before finally Aiden found a topic they could relate to.

Surprisingly enough, work.

"You really work as a hospital orderly?" Aiden asked, his only half touched cup of coffee now cold and unpleasant.

"It was an easy plant for a while, I suppose the access to blood was the perk of the job. As I guess you must know."

"Our hospital had been run by the Boston family but there was an accident with the head of the surgeons office and there was a mass Cleanup on the upper ranks. We've been loosing our privileges there." Aiden put the coffee in the sink then brushed his hands, "But it's about time for a change. The hospital had been blood central for the inner circle for almost 30 years. Time to shift suspicion."

"So you and your room mate work at the same hospital."

"Yeah," he picked his fang then just shrugged, "He's an orderly too." Then a funny thought occurred to him, "You wouldn't by any chance know if this house was used as a –" 'wolf cage' was what he wanted to ask. But a small surprised squeak started behind him and he spun around just in time to see the dust of a ghost spread quickly into thin air.

Mitchell too looked a bit shocked, and the mood instantly changed, "Well! Glad that this went through painlessly. It was a great pleasure to have met you. Thanks for the short story. I really have to be going. Stop again for tea another time maybe?"

And Aiden suddenly was ushered out of the door. "Uh. Right." And it slammed behind him before he hand the chance to say: "Good bye."

He took a half step down the porch then thought about it. Suspicious, no less, he'd thought maybe some ghost would feel the urge to stay and chat? Suspicious much? Ghosts had no reason to fear vampires.

Curiosity got the better of him and he crept to the kitchen window and peeked. As suspected, the specter had returned—She was a tall strip of a thing, wide eyed and with frizzy brown hair that exploded around her face like a fuzzy mane. She had died in slat gray shirt, loose and comfortable. Barefooted, like Sally. She was screaming and Mitchell was trying to calm her down. If not calm her down, at least understand what she was trying to say.

Aiden watched as the ghost threw her hands to her face with balled fists, and the vampire gripping them—comforting her. Before finally saying something that she agrees to. His hands slip through her and she disappears. Visibly upset, Mitchell grabs the leather jacket that was draped on the kitchen chair and dashes out the front door of the house.

As he does, Aiden's view followed him only to land on the bright eyes of the little human girl. Her game was still on, her hands were still on the controller, but she started at him unspeaking – she knew he had seen the whole episode.

Aiden quickly went off to pick up his roommate from his double shift at the hospital.


AN: So I am a viewer of the American show. I have watched about a season of the UK version, however I am not so well acquainted with those characters so if I get their personalities subtly wrong… so sorry. Feel free to call me out on it.

I've never understood why no one has thought to cross the two groups over. They are different characters with slightly different backgrounds. I find that this crossover would not only be pretty neat in the fiction's fiction realm- but also in actual cannon.

The dates for the story to occur has been fudged a bit, slightly, from the airdates. I didn't realize everyone die-died in the UK version until after I started writing. So imagine that this story is some offshoot that happens somewhere at the end of US season 2, and the end of UK series 2 (or the early episodes of series 3). Obviously, with Aiden getting buried, there is some AU. Apologies again… I did take a few liberties. Otherwise, I'll try to keep it as close to cannon as possible.