A/N This is gonna be one of my longest fics yet. Will contain UsUk, PruCan, a teensy bit of GerIta and MAYBE some implied kimchiburger. Maybe.


He lapped up the final drops of blood off of his latest victim's cold, dead neck. The breeze from the open window chilled him pleasantly. With a swish and a snap, he was gone, leaving behind a cold, bloodless corpse, once belonging to a Duke's wife. Her body would not be found until the next day, when a maid's shriek would bring everybody and their uncle running. He left no trace, but for two holes at the base of her neck. He made no sound, but for the fluttering of feathered wings as he made his escape. And no one saw him, except for the lady's fat dog, who was too tired to bark at the intruder.

It was another cloudy day in London, and that was just the way I liked it. I had lived there for quite a long time, and overcast days there were more common than fast food joints in America. It was supposedly spring, but it could have been the middle of winter for all I cared. I didn't live in London merely for the lack of sunlight, however, I also lived there because it was where I was born and raised, and because I couldn't imagine a better place anywhere else.

I also suspected that the vampire who turned me might return there. I didn't know anything about him, except he had a thing for Brits. I hated him. Being a vampire is horrible. You can't eat garlic bread, you can't check your hair in a mirror, and you can't get tan. At all. So I just wanted my own little revenge on the one who was cruel enough to subject me to such a fate.

I didn't want to be immortal, either. Sure, it sounds grand in the beginning, but it has it's downsides. If you're immortal, there's nothing to motivate you. It makes anything exciting dull. It means you can't ever fall in love with a human. It means... Well, it's not as fun as it seems.

Contrary to popular belief, I could go walking around in the daytime, as long as I wasn't in direct sunlight. Also, we didn't all turn into bats. Some turn into owls, others into dragonflies. Me? My animal form was a green, winged rabbit.

Embarrassing, I know. At least no one ever saw me.

I wish I could have been something cool, like a wizard. Alas, there was nothing I could do about it.

Where was I?

Oh yes, it was another cloudy day in London, and that was just the way I liked it. I was having a quaint breakfast of tea and biscuits(hey, just because I was a vampire didn't mean I couldn't enjoy good British cooking!) and working on the crossword puzzle. A typical, quiet, peaceful Tuesday morning for me. Or was it a Wednesday? No, it was certainly Saturday.

The wavy-haired man at the counter winked at me. I gave him a death glare. He laughed in an annoying French way.

A typical Thursday for me.

Anyway, I was this close to solving thirteen across before I was interrupted.

"Hey, can I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

I looked up. A young man, scarcely older than me before I had been turned, was standing next to the seat across from me, carrying a laptop under his arm.

"Of course" I said skeptically. He didn't seem like the intellectual type. Or the tolerable type, for that matter. But I don't judge based on looks, so I gave him a chance.

Naturally, he blew it the second he opened his mouth.

"Thanks, man. You have no idea how much I need this coffee, the flight was delayed an hour and there aren't any decent burger joints around here!"

I studied him for a moment. His hair was a caramel-blond color, with an interesting little cowlick that curled up above his forehead. It seemed that it just naturally fell into place without a single effort. His eyes were bright and mischievous, a shade bluer than the sky. He wore glasses, which didn't do much for looking intelligent. He wore an old bomber jacket over a t-shirt and scruffy jeans.

"First of all, if you're going to talk to me at all, please address me as 'Arthur'. Secondly, there are so many other foods you could be eating, rather than that American trash. Ever heard of 'expanding your palette'?"

"Dude, I barely understood any of that. And it's not trash! It's better than anything here, for sure." he was getting a bit annoying.

"Words are wasted on the idiots, I suppose. Since you've obviously no interest in culture and other countries, why are you here anyway?"

"Many reasons, actually. My brother likes traveling, so he drags me along with him because he doesn't like to go anywhere on his own. Also, I have a hunch that there may be something... supernatural lurking in London."

I almost laughed. Heck with it, I did laugh. What did this kid know? Nothing! He was obviously one of those people who believed everything they were told, and stubbornly believed it until the very end, even if they were proven wrong.

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

"You may not believe me, but there's always been something different about this place, in the supernatural sense. I got my proof yesterday, when the wife of a duke was found dead, drained of blood, in her bed. I'm thinking vampire, although I'd have to get a good look at the corpse to be sure."

He was cracking me up. "You think anyone but a few crackpots are going believe you? We don't burn witches anymore, lad. It's quite possible the body was a hoax, set up by ever weirder lots than you."

"Shun the non-believer! Shuuun! Hey, I believe in vampires. So what? I'm still a hero~"

"Is that what you Americans call yourselves nowadays?"

"I don't know about anyone else, but yeah, our country is pretty damn heroic!"

I facepalmed. I had all but forgotten why I disliked Americans until I met this man. What an idiot. I mean, we were sitting in front of a window, so he could've seen easily that I wasn't reflected on the surface, but when he actually did look, it was to fix his hair, and he took no notice of my -lack of- reflection.

"Anyway, my name is Alfred F. Jones, hero and self-proclaimed supernatural investigator, like Dib from Invader Zim, except cooler!"

"I'd like to say it's a pleasure to meet you, Alfred, but it isn't."

"Aw, you're no fun, Artie!"

"It's Arthur, you dimwit. Arthur Kirkland." I replied haughtily, not taking well to my new nickname.

He chatted through the rest of my tea-time, and I was forced to correct his atrocious grammar through most of it. He lived with his half-brother, Matthew, loved sci-fi and comic books and spent most of his time on the internet or with his friend, Tony.

As he droned mindlessly, I began to tune him out and think. My first thought was something along the lines of 'can't this guy take a hint?' The rest of my thoughts were of ways I could get him to shut up. 'I have an idea...'

"You know, now that you mention it, I do suspect that there may be some blood-sucking creature of the night in the country. I was just unwilling to believe it until I met someone else who did, so I'd know I wasn't crazy."

"Really?" he asked hopefully, looking like a puppy expecting a treat.

"Really. There are records of many things like that in the library, if you look right. And since vampires are immortal, you could go back as far as the days before indoor plumbing and find your guy." I was hoping he'd leave to find out about that so I could finish my tea in peace.

He stood up. "Thanks, Artie! Ya know, I kinda had you pegged as a grumpy, bitter ol' man, but you're actually kind of cool!"

I didn't know what to say. I was insulted that he had thought I was old(several centuries so, in case you were wondering), but he said everything in such an enthusiastic, innocent way that it was hard not to be enthused. Next thing I knew, he was dragging me by the arm to the nearest library. I made some really smart-sounding sounds of struggle, but he was inhumanly strong and ever so persistent.

Since he was the kind of guy who couldn't see the city for all the buildings, I figured it couldn't hurt to toss him a bone and pretend to help him research vampires. He spent most of his time on the computer, or finding Wally, while I spent my time trying to find a book about vampires that wasn't in the "teen paranormal romance" section.

When I was sure he was immersed in the I Spy book he was studying, I stared at him for a bit, trying to fathom what had happened to him in his childhood to cause such idiocy. He was so unobservant, I was pretty sure I could sink my teeth into his neck and he wouldn't suspect a thing. As that popped into my mind, I briefly wondered what his blood might taste like. Probably grease, salt, barbecue sauce and catchup...