The alarm on his phone informed him that he should get up now so he could leisurely get ready. Maybe cook himself a nice, big breakfast. A shower would be nice – as long as he was careful of his injured arm. There was even the possibility of reading a couple of comics before he wandered on down to his actual, permanent job.

An hour later, the alarm informed him that he should really get up now. If he didn't dawdle so much, he could do all the aforementioned things. Well, maybe only reading one comic.

Half an hour afterwards, he was informed that he had to get up right now and rush through everything, forget the comics and he could still get to work on time.

Fifteen minutes after that, the alarm told him he was late and going to get fired.

With a yelp, Alfred tried to leap from his bed. This was difficult as he was actually on the couch. Instead of the hurried departure he had wanted, he landed against his coffee table, his side catching on the corner. Groaning in pain, he scurried to his feet and began to change from his old sweatpants into a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

He glanced at the window, intent on opening the blinds but he managed to stop himself, remembering his guest. The night before, after Arthur had emerged from his shower in nought but a towel, demanding temporary sleeping clothes, they had discussed sleeping arrangements. Since Arthur would sleep from the moment the sun breached the horizon till the moment it sank from view, it was decided he would get the bed. The vampire still had to recover from his original attack and was exhausted from the two attacks following it. Alfred had to get up relatively early for work and would disturb Arthur by moving around – his living room had no door and was open to the hall he would be passing through which would wake Arthur if he was in the living room. Also, Arthur had argued, it was all Alfred's fault that he was there in the first place.

Of course, Arthur had finally won when the stubborn Alfred grew too tired of arguing his own case and agreed. They had both organised Alfred's things so that his fresh clothes and his other essentials would be at hand. That way, Arthur had told him with a condescending expression, Alfred would not need to wake Arthur when he needed to get something from his own bedroom.

Quickly, Alfred gathered his things, trying not to make too much noise, muttering curses under his breath. Finally ready, he grabbed a bagel, smeared peanut butter on it and began to eat and run from the apartment at the same time.

Thankfully, he arrived at the comic book store in time. Relief washed over him and not for the first time. This job was his only stable income of money. He could get money from other sources, of course, but it was by commission. Besides, he really loved working amongst the comics. Half the day he spent reading the new issues, waiting for people to finish work or get home from school and pester their parents to bring them.

"Ah, you made it, Al?" asked the owner with a grin. The shop was quiet so early in the morning. "Thought for sure you'd sleep in this time."

"Ha ha," grumbled Alfred, albeit with a grin. And so another day of work started.

By the time Alfred returned to his apartment, the sun was setting. He bounded inside and rushed to the window in the living room. The apartment he rented was high in the building and he could always see the sunrise and the sunset. It was a beautiful sight and always filled him with hope, despite whatever his day had been like. Without thinking, he pulled open the blinds and watched, happily, as the last rays disappeared and the sky turned pink.

At that point he remembered Arthur and turned, scanning the room. If he was in the room, he might have been hit by the last bit of sunlight. Luckily, it seemed that he had not emerged from his bedroom yet: no piles of ash greeted his worried gaze.

The noise of a door opening caught his attention and he watched the doorway. Arthur appeared, wearing one of Alfred's larger shirts, and glanced at him. After a few seconds of bleary staring, Arthur grunted in acknowledgement. "Mornin'."

"Good evening," replied Alfred, with a grin.

Arthur grunted again and wandered into the kitchen. Shrugging to himself, Alfred settled himself on his couch with a sigh. Suppressing a yawn, he grabbed the remote and switched the TV on – just as Arthur gave a cry.

Surprised, Alfred launched himself from the couch and ran into the small room. "What? What is it?" he asked, hurriedly.

Turning to him, Arthur folded his arms and glared at the hunter. "There is no tea," he growled. "After everything, I was hoping for some tea." Then he leaned against the counter and raised his eyebrow.

"Uh..." replied Alfred, a little confused. "Well, I don't drink tea, so-"

"Of course you don't," sighed Arthur. "You're American."

"Hey!" Alfred was a little insulted at his exasperated tone. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The vampire opened his mouth to speak but stopped and eyed Alfred warily. "It doesn't matter. Just get me some tea or this night is going to be unbearable."

Alfred raised his own eyebrow. "Unbearable? You mean, 'boring'?"

"Yes."

"How can you be bored? Don't you have things to do when you've got no girls to feed on?"

With a roll of his eyes, Arthur pushed himself up from the counter, his arms still crossed. "Well, let me see. I would read one of my books – oh, wait." He stepped forward, a frown gracing his face. "I can't. I would tend to my flowers." Once again, he stepped forward, closing the distance. "Well, what do you know, I can't do that, either. I like to knit myself scarves and such-like for the winter months and embroider my handkerchiefs. Would you happen to have any wool or thread?"

"Um-"

Another step forward so that he was within arms' reach. "I did not think so."

"You could play one of the games for my XBox. I mean, I don't have the latest-"

"I have probably played them all."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"But... You've played the XBox."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "And just what are you implying with that?"

"Nothing," said Alfred, hurriedly. "Just..." His gaze flickered over Arthur's makeshift nightshirt, white and buttoned up. He latched onto that as a way to change the topic. "Hey, are you wanting new clothes?"

"Hm?" said Arthur, blinking at the sudden change. "Well, yes. But-"

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred interrupted. "You don't have your own clothes because you're not in your house. I get it, already!"

"No, I wasn't going to say that, actually," said Arthur with a triumphant smirk. "I was going to say that your clothes would be too big for me."

Alfred stared at the smaller blonde for a moment, trying to decide whether to let himself get riled up or just send him off to his room. Finally, he decided he was too tired for an argument. "I have belts somewhere. Just go get some clothes and whatever and I'll come find them when you're, y'know, dressed."

"Right," agreed Arthur, his smirk disappearing. However, instead of either of them moving, Arthur's unnatural green eyes stared into Alfred's. Again, they seemed to glow. It was almost as if the vampire was reminding Alfred what exactly he was. "However..." he continued, jolting Alfred from his thoughts.

"What?"

He stepped closer again and Alfred fought the urge to run. "It's just... I would really like a cup of tea. Is that too much to ask?"

"Uh, I suppose not," muttered Alfred. "But can you wait until tomorrow. I mean, I-"

Arthur's hand shot out and grabbed Alfred's arm. "No," he growled, his glare intensifying his eyes' glow. "I am still thirsty. Your blood was not enough to quench it. I need something to drink. Whether it is tea or blood does not matter to me."

His arm was trapped – Arthur was using his supernatural strength to keep him from moving. Not that Alfred really wanted to at this point. Moving meant going to buy tea. And going to buy tea meant leaving the flat and he didn't want to have to do that until the next day. He sighed. "Fine," he mumbled. "We can just open this up again," he added, beginning to unwrap his bandages.

"No, wait," said Arthur, grabbing his wrist and pulled him away from them. Now the vampire had both his arms immobile. Alfred tensed. Even though he had no fangs, he could still hurt him if he wanted to – and Alfred was powerless to stop it. Noticing his wide eyes, Arthur rolled his and let go. "You should let it heal. Especially after I went to all the effort to stitch it up." He reached for Alfred's other arm and Alfred let him take it. The vampire's hands gently ran along it, tracing one of the veins. "Make a smaller, shallow cut in this arm. One which I won't need to stitch. After all," he added, turning his bright eyes to Alfred's gaze, "we drink blood from two small holes. Granted, the blood is faster flowing at the neck, but we can drink from the veins, too."

Alfred caught his breath. "Uh, yeah," he breathed. "I see..." Honestly, he didn't understand it nor care. But those eyes challenged him to say otherwise and Alfred just knew that Arthur would be scathing about it. He stared at Arthur for a moment longer, his blue eyes trained on Arthur's. Finally, he blinked and glanced around. "So, a small one, huh?"

Once again, one of his kitchen knives was brought out. Using his weaker hand, he pressed the tip to his forearm, hoping he wouldn't slip and slash his wrist. Explaining that to a paramedic would be embarrassing.

As soon as a drop of blood was squeezed from his arm, Arthur grabbed his arm away with such violence that Alfred dropped the knife. He gasped as soft lips enveloped his cut and looked away, screwing his eyes shut. Then he had to grit his teeth from the pain as Arthur began to suck. Alfred could almost feel his blood levels dropping. If this kept up, he would become anaemic.

A low groan erupted from his lips. He bit his lip to try to stifle it but, suddenly, the pain was gone. He glanced back at Arthur and found him gazing at him, blood coating his lips. With a nod, Arthur said, "Yes, that will be quite enough, thank you."

Staring, Alfred shook his head. "Enough? You hardly had any."

"It's fine. Just remember tea tomorrow."

They both glanced at Alfred's arm where a small line of blood was oozing from the cut. Alfred was quite unprepared for Arthur catching his arm again and licking the blood up. With another gasp, he jerked away.

"What the hell was that?!"

Arthur rolled his eyes as he straightened up. "I was healing the wound. Last night, the wound was too deep, you idiot."

"Eh?!"

"What?"

"Healing?" cried Alfred, surprised. He had never heard of that fact before.

A thick eyebrow was raised. "How do you think we make more vampires? Let them bleed out?"

"Well..."

"You thought we let them die only to raise them from the dead, didn't you?" asked Arthur, scathingly.

"Um."

"Idiot. You can't bring back the dead."

It had been a simple – and true – statement but it still made Alfred flinch. Arthur froze as he noticed this. A silence descended and both of them tried not to look at each other. Alfred opened his mouth to say something about how Arthur should know, having killed so many people. It lodged in his throat and he shut his mouth as he glanced towards the man. He was staring back.

Arthur took a breath. "You must be tired. Go to bed. Just make sure you're out of it in the morning. I'll... entertain myself."

The American merely nodded and escaped from the kitchen.

Alfred had a good night's sleep and was awoken just before dawn by Arthur who demanded he get out of the bed so he could use it again. He obliged – reluctantly – but found that, when his alarm sounded a few hours later, he was able to get up the first time. After a shower, an amazing breakfast and a few comics, Alfred wandered nonchalantly to the comic book store.

It was turning into a good day, especially when he got a message during his break from the other hunters declaring a meeting. An address was attached and Alfred was happy – for a few seconds before he realised that he was not going to get any money for Arthur. He hadn't killed him nor did he have any fangs. Alfred sighed.

The day was turning into a frustrating one.

On the way home, he barely remembered to buy some tea. However, instead of a quick trip into the shop and out, it turned into around an hour of browsing the shelves and grabbing things he suddenly remembered he needed or hadn't had in a while. Finally, he approached the register with his arms full, a box of a rather posh brand of tea held tightly in one hand. If he lost the rest of his load, he could live with it. He would rather not have an angry vampire in his apartment because he had dropped the tea and it was too much effort to go back for it.

As he scanned his own items as quickly as possible, Alfred thought about him. It was an odd dilemma that pushed his way into his mind. Was Arthur still, technically, what people would class as a vampire? Sure, he still drank blood. However, that was because he was injured – or so he said. He could survive on other things such as tea. Alfred scanned the box, his eyebrows furrowed at it. What did all this mean? Were they really all that different from humans?

A memory resurfaced as he stuffed the last item into a bag and fished out his wallet. No. They were not like humans at all.

Cursing at the price, Alfred processed his purchase before hurrying off. He was relieved to get home, pushing the door closed and leaning against it. With a long sigh, he made his way into the kitchen. He froze in the doorway, finding Arthur back in his pyjamas sitting at the small table with a glass of water.

His viridian eyes rose to meet Alfred's. "Welcome home," he said with a yawn. Alfred's breath caught. No-one had said that to him in a long, long time. He bit his lip to stop himself from tearing up as Arthur continued speaking, lazily. "I hope you brought some tea. Proper tea, too. None of this iced nonsense."

"Um, yeah..." said Alfred quietly, skirting around the vampire and placing his bags on the counter. "And some other stuff, too. Mostly for me but I guess you could eat it. I got some steaks."

"Oh, good," said Arthur. Alfred heard his chair push back. "I like them raw." Alfred glanced at him and noted that Arthur still looked dangerous when he grinned, as though his fangs were still there. He shivered.

"Well, you can eat that whenever." He reached into the bag and pulled out the tea, handing it to Arthur. "I hope you like this because it cost way too much for a buncha leaves."

"Hm," said Arthur, reaching into the bag and pulling out an expensive jar of coffee. "Just like this costs way too much for a 'bunch' of beans."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up," he sighed, grabbing the jar back. "Anyway, since you're mooching off me, make yourself useful and put all this stuff away."

"Why should I?" snapped Arthur, glaring at Alfred once again.

"Because I have to go out."

"What?" asked Arthur, obviously surprised.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"None of your business," said Alfred, hurriedly. What would the vampire do once it knew of the meetings the hunters had every few weeks? He tried to dart around him, hoping for a quick shower before he hurried out.

"I think it is my business!" cried Arthur, following him. "You're my only source of food." Alfred glanced at him in alarm, stopping in his tracks. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I only meant that you are the only way for me to buy things like steaks. I have no money with me. Because someone-"

"Okay, okay!" interrupted Alfred, holding up his hands. "I need to go meet... with some friends."

For a moment, Arthur seemed embarrassed, averting his gaze and backing away a step. Alfred couldn't tell, though – he wasn't blushing and, with his pale skin, Alfred thought it would be very obvious. Then, suddenly, his sharp gaze was lifted, eyes narrowed. "Friends? You mean other hunters, yes?"

Alfred felt the blush and could do nothing to stop it. "N-No!" he cried, laughing to cover up his embarrassment, throwing his head back so Arthur couldn't see. However, when he looked back at Arthur, the vampire was still glaring. He hesitated but sighed and gave in. "Fine... Yeah. We always have meetings."

"And what are you going to be doing?"

"Nothing. Just. Well. Talking?"

"About what?" Arthur's eyes turned suspicious. "About me?"

"Um, no, probably not," Alfred replied.

"Really?" Arthur almost dripped with scepticism. "And I won't come up at all? You won't try to foist me off to someone else? Ambush me in my sleep? I would not be surprised if they wanted to torture me, either."

"No!" cried Alfred, rather too quickly for his liking. Arthur seemed a little startled. "I mean, then they'd kill you and I'd never find that hunter!"

There was a short silence which Arthur chose to break with a sigh. "Fine. I'll come along."

"What? What are you talking about? You can't-"

"How else am I going to see these hunters?" asked Arthur, pointedly, his eyebrow raised.

"Oh," said Alfred. "Oh. Yeah. Um." How was he going to explain to his fellow hunters about this? "I suppose..."

"Great. I'll get my coat." Arthur paused. "Oh, wait." He smirked at Alfred before disappearing into the bedroom, presumably to get changed from his pyjamas.

Alfred really didn't want to do this. It wasn't that he cared about Arthur's well-being enough to be concerned. He didn't care if his fangs got away – not too much. There was always the possibility the guy would come forward if he spread the word. It didn't bother him, either, that there was the possibility that Arthur had tricked him and was actually strong enough to take his revenge on all the hunters in the state of New York (as far as he was aware, the other hunters in other states kept within their boundaries).

No, what bothered him the most about this whole adventure was that his friends would think he was insane. They would stop trusting him. He would be isolated, unable to receive help in case he had a vampire around. 'Vampire's pet', they'd call him.

"Okay," he said to Arthur, staring up at the closed club. "Okay."

"Yes...?" Arthur sounded puzzled. Alfred decided not to check his expression. If he did, he might back out and send a message to Mat to tell him he was ill.

"Okay," Alfred repeated once more.

The noises of the street filtered into their silence. People walking, talking, laughing, shouting, screeching, living. Cars passing, growling at each other, horns blaring when they got irritated. Music from other clubs and bars and shops and theatres. The odd call of a bird. In the distance, if Alfred strained to catch it, he might hear the fog horn of a ship.

"If we're not going in, can we go?" asked Arthur, sounding quite bored. "This place smells."

"Smells?" asked Alfred, still refusing to turn around, still working himself up to go in.

"Yes. In your flat, they are dampened. But now, I can smell them. All of them."

This time, Alfred found himself glancing at Arthur. The smaller man shuddered, his eyes flitting around. A group of girls walked by, giggling a little, staring at them. Arthur swallowed a few times, his Adam's apple bobbing. Alfred frowned until the realisation washed over him.

Arthur could smell humans. He could smell their blood. There was probably a reason they had lived so out of the way. Away from the town and the city. Now he was in the midst of everything he had tried to avoid.

Not only that, Alfred thought, he had not been without his fangs in a while. They probably negated the reason to carry something to protect himself with. Anyone could attack him now and he would be utterly helpless – just like when Alfred had.

Swallowing a low feeling of guilt, Alfred turned himself fully towards Arthur. "Okay, listen." Arthur obediently concentrated on him. "When we get in here, try to be as unnoticeable as possible. Don't say anything. Try not to do that thing where you make a noise when I say something 'stupid'. And don't look at them – your eyes are so unnatural that they'll know right away you're not human."

"Why, thank you," said Arthur, rather icily.

"C'mon, then," murmured Alfred, stepping forward. He opened the door and they traipsed up the stairs to the inner one. There Alfred rapped on the door twice, slow and loud.

"Oh, wow," muttered Arthur. "That is such a complicated secret knock."

"Shurrup," hissed Alfred as the door opened.

It was opened by a dark-haired man. He was fair-skinned, too, and his eyes were just as dark as his hair. A dark green shirt hung loosely from his shoulders and a pair of worn jeans were tight on his hips. Smiling up at Alfred, he said, "Zdraveĭte, Alfred. It is good to see you again. And you brought... a friend?" he added as he spotted Arthur. Alfred was relieved when Arthur took a 'shy' step behind him.

"Yeah. Sorry, Aleks – he's a bit nervous."

Aleksandr nodded in understanding. "Come in," he said, stepping out of the way.

Inside, the club's dim lighting was on. Really, thought Alfred, this was so much better for a meeting of vampires. The bar was empty but the bottles lay where they had been left. A few tables had been dragged across to the middle of the dance floor and several hunters sat there. Most of them were middle-aged, gruff men. There were a few women with long, flowing hair. An older man sat at the head of the group, a cap declaring him to be HL: the Hunter Leader. He was the man who had amassed riches so vast he could pay the poor men and women who went up against vampires whenever they could.

"Alfred!" cried Mathias from across the room. The taller man, his blonde hair spiked as usual, his collapsible axe in hand, raised his other in greeting.

"Mat!" Alfred answered, hurrying across and leaving Arthur and Aleksandr in his wake. He grabbed the Dane's arm in a strong grip before he was pulled into a hug. "Any closer to figuring out that reload problem?"

The older hunter grimaced. "Nej, not yet."

"Excuse me, my boys," growled the HL.

"Yeah?" asked Alfred, turning to him. "What's up, Sam?"

"May I ask you, Al, why you have brought a vampire into our midst?"

Instantly, the friendly atmosphere changed. Weapons were produced. Aleksandr, who had been close to Arthur at the moment Sam had spoke, grabbed the poor vampire's arm. Arthur just sighed and crossed his arms.

"I-!" began Alfred but stopped upon seeing Aleksandr producing a stake from a pocket. "No, wait! Please, don't-!"

"Are you sympathising with vampires?!" growled Mathias, glaring at Alfred. It was amazing how quickly people's attitudes to you could change, Alfred vaguely thought.

"No!" exclaimed Alfred. "You know what they did to my family!" This seemed to catch Arthur's attention as he eyed the young hunter defending him. Alfred returned his gaze, desperate, not sure what he should say to calm everyone down.

"Then why?" asked Aleks, glaring at Arthur, not letting his guard down.

"I- It's- Well, you see-"

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Alfred," sighed Arthur. Aleksandr's grip tightened on his arm. "Just hurry up and tell them. In the meantime, may I have a drink? I'm parched-" He seemed to realise what he had said because he unfolded his arms and quickly raised his arms. "And I merely mean that I would like some rum, if that's not too much trouble. This place does have rum, right? None of this 'alcopop' crap."

Silence descended, sitting heavy on everyone's shoulders. Alfred didn't think that anyone had ever heard a vampire say that they wanted anything other than blood. The shock on their faces rivalled his own – since when did Arthur drink anything other than tea and blood?

Laughing nervously, Alfred shifted his weight. "Rum? I didn't think you would like alcohol. Your house was like a shrine to old man habits."

"And, as such," retorted Arthur, "I have done so much more than you. Now, if you don't mind..." With that, he used his unnatural strength to rip his arm from Aleks' grip. He spun around the hunter, stalked to the bar and, after a moment's hesitation, jumped the bar. Landing softly, he began to search through the assorted bottles. "Don't mind me," he called over his shoulder, waving his hand. "I expect you have a lot to talk about."

"Alfred," said a voice behind him and the American turned to find Sam gazing at him. "Tell us what happened."

"Well, y'see, I was on a hunt."

"We gathered that, ja," interjected Mathias.

Only nodding in response, Alfred continued. "You all know, right, that I collect fangs? Well, I was gonna gloat over Arthur by surveying-"

"Arthur?!" cried Mathias in disbelief. Alfred grimaced.

"Yes?" said Arthur from right behind them. Everyone spun around to find him sipping from a squat glass, standing right behind them. Several people tensed, their hands twitching, aiming their weapons at him. He ignored them.

"It has a name?" was Mathias' indignant response.

"Of course I have a name," snapped Arthur.

"That is not what I meant," growled Mat. He turned to Alfred. "Why are you calling it by a name?"

"It's much better than 'Vamp'," Arthur responded before Alfred could.

"Enough!" yelled Sam. Once silence had been restored, he returned his attention to Alfred. "Tell us."

"Anyways, I was gonna gloat but, when I opened his mouth, his fangs weren't there."

"What?" asked Aleks, his eyes widening.

Arthur piped up once again and Alfred wished he'd stop making matters worse. "Is this the part where I get poked and prodded by you?" he asked. With a dramatic sigh, he threw back the rest of his rum, swallowed and glared at them. "Go ahead. You won't believe him, otherwise."

Everyone looked to Sam who nodded. Mathias stepped forward and grabbed Arthur, roughly. Alfred saw him wince and frowned slightly as Mat pulled his upper lip as far as it would go. His eyes widened and he stepped back. "There... Nothing. They have been pulled out."

"So, if you still want to kill me," said Arthur, nonchalantly, "go right ahead. I can barely survive without my fangs."

"Why didn't you kill him?" asked Sam of Alfred.

Biting his lip, Alfred turned to them. "Well, it was kinda selfish. But I want my fangs. They belong to me and I want to find the hunter that did this." Seeing that he was not winning them over – they still looked sceptical and suspicious – he groped frantically for another good excuse. Surprisingly, he found one. "Not only is he denying me but think what will happen if he continues this. There will be more and more vampires without their fangs. Strong. Desperate. More killings."

"And you need him to identify the hunter," muttered Sam, nodding. "That was good logic."

"Surprisingly," muttered Arthur behind Alfred.

"Is he living with you?" asked Mat.

"Yeah. Just till we've found the guy," replied Alfred.

"What did he look like?" asked Aleks. Alfred was surprised to find that he had turned to Arthur, he was talking to Arthur. And not in a venomous tone.

"Tall, blonde, blue eyes," said Arthur, shortly.

"Hm," said Sam, his eyelids drooping slightly as he thought. "Hm, I will see what I can find."

"What will happen once you find him?" asked Mat, looking at Alfred, ignoring Arthur.

"Well, I suppose I'll ask him nicely to give me-"

"Nej, I mean – what will you do with it?"

"Oh," said Alfred. He glanced at Arthur who stared back at him, expressionless. "I suppose I'll just kill 'im."

"Will you be able to?"

"Mathias," said Sam, warningly.

"Of course I will!" exclaimed Alfred, angrily. How dare Mat question his ability to kill a vampire? They had both sworn to go down fighting. No-one in the room would roll over and let the vampires kill – unless it was each other.

The Dane eyed him for a moment before grabbing Alfred's wrist. With anyone else, Alfred would have flipped him over, hurt him to free himself. Instead, shocked, Alfred was yanked forward and his shirt sleeve was pushed up, revealing the bandage around the first cut. He had hoped the long sleeves would have stopped everyone from noticed. A chorus of gasps sounded.

"You are feeding it!" snapped Mathias, glaring at the young hunter as he pulled his sleeve down again. Alfred winced as it caught on the bandage. "Everyone knows what happens if you feed vampires. You, idiot, are going to end up being his Bride if you are not careful." A tense silence fell once again, everyone avoiding Alfred's eyes. Some of the hunters shifted away nervously. Alfred glanced to Arthur who was just returning from another trip to the bar, his glass full. Mathias finally acknowledged the vamp, pointing at him accusingly. "Release my friend from your spell! I will not let you wed him – or worse."

"Oh, please!" laughed Arthur, shaking his head in disbelief. "That is just a story. We do not marry, for goodness' sake. After all, how would we be able to? Marriage is a holy thing. We cannot enter a church."

"Civil partnership?" suggested Aleks.

"Ah, yes. That we can do," said Arthur, dismissively. He took a sip of his rum and sighed in relief, his eyes closed.

That was when Mathias struck. He grabbed Arthur by the neck and threw him to the ground, following him down with his axe at the vampire's neck. The glass slipped from Arthur's hand and smashed on the ground, the harsh sound making everyone but the two engaged men wince.

"Lad ham gå!" snarled Mathias.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Han er fri til å gjøre som han vil med meg. Ikke test meg, menneske," he growled.

Alfred watched Mathias' eyes widen in surprise. After all, Arthur had used that language again. Was it Danish, too? But it sounded slightly different... Slowly, Mat sat up a little, moving his weapon away slightly but still close. "How do you know that?"

"I have gotten around," was Arthur's dismissive response. "Now, get off me so I can clean up."

Reluctantly, Mat did so. Immediately, Arthur sat up and began to pick up the pieces of glass. Everyone else silently watched him, wary. Alfred, meanwhile, watched Mathias. He seemed rather shocked that someone had spoken in his language – either because he was a vampire or because he sounded British. Or, maybe, it was something Arthur had said.

Deciding it would probably be a good idea to get out of there before someone got hurt, Alfred cleared his throat. "Okay, so, if anyone sees this guy, let me know, 'kay?"

"We will," Sam assured him, watching Arthur out of the corner of his eye.

"Be careful," muttered Aleksandr, putting a hand on Alfred's arm to attract his attention. Alfred nodded.

"Ah, but," said Sam, suddenly, focussing their attention on him again, "I will not be able to pay you for your hunt, Alfred. You haven't killed him, yet."

The younger hunter merely nodded and turned to Arthur. He was standing now, the glass shards cupped in his hands. "What was that? Pay?" he asked, frowning.

"Yeah," Alfred muttered as he took Arthur's arm. "Sam pays us for every vamp we take down."

"And they're not going to pay you?" asked Arthur, loudly. Alfred grimaced. "You caught me – surely that counts for something?" Arthur stopped at the bar, dropped the pile of glass and turned to the other hunters. "Surely he should get some kind of pay for... putting up with me."

Sam surveyed both him and Alfred, the American shifting from foot to foot in nervousness. Then, finally, he gave a nod, reaching into the bag at his feet. Surprised, Alfred crossed the room and Sam gave him a pile of notes. "This is half of the normal rate. You'll get the rest when it's dead."

Alfred nodded and hurried back to Arthur who watched the exchange, nonplussed. "C'mon," he muttered to his companion, grabbing his elbow once again. He dragged Arthur from the club, intending to have a nice chat with him once he got him back to the apartment.

"What was that?" asked Alfred once he had pushed Arthur onto the couch.

The vampire looked up at him, blankly. "What was what?"

"Why did you speak? I told you not to! Were you trying to get yourself killed?" Arthur glanced out of the window. The lights of New York City twinkled beyond the open blinds. Reflections in the bay flickered distantly. A weary look passed across Arthur's face and Alfred realised why he had acted out. "You want to die?" he exclaimed, moving around Arthur to stand in his way.

Wordlessly, Arthur lifted his gaze back to Alfred. The American was arrested by those glowing eyes and they stared at each other in silence. Finally, Arthur spoke. "They do not frighten me, Alfred. I have been around for far too long for humans to scare me. You are all so easily broken or moulded. And I..." He trailed off.

Alfred's eyebrows drew together. "You should be frightened. Any one of them could come here in the middle of the day and kill you."

"I am not afraid of them," Arthur reiterated.

Shaking his head, Alfred sat next to Arthur, staring at him. "You're not making any sense. I mean, don't you want your immortality?" Arthur looked back at him, his face blank. Alfred wondered, suddenly, how long it had taken to perfect that expression. "You... How long have you been alive?"

Without a word, Arthur stood. "Long enough to know that it's definitely high time for some tea." And he left Alfred sitting on the couch, wondering if he had somehow captured one of the first vampires.

Well, has he? Maybe he has, maybe he hasn't. Who knows? (Me, but hush.)

Alfred has a bad track record at the comic shop - if he's late again, he's gonna get fired. Or so his boss says. It's a running joke that he'll sleep in one time (instead of being off hunting, etc.) and get sacked. (The boss doesn't know he hunts but he does know he has another job which pays by commission.)

There was a reason for Arthur's "You're American" comment when Alfred said he didn't drink tea. May or may not be told later. It's not terribly important.

Oh, yeah! Translations! (Mathias speaks Danish and Arthur speaks Norwegian. For reasons.)

Lad ham gå! = Let him go!

Han er fri til å gjøre som han vil med meg. Ikke test meg, menneske. = He is free to do as he pleases with me. Do not test me, human. (This is close to the Danish for this so I thought that is how they can understand each other. = Han er fri til at gøre som han vil med mig. Må ikke teste mig, menneske.)

Aleksandr is Bulgaria! So that word when he greets them is the Bulgarian for "Hello".

Speaking of Norwegian - I swear, he'll turn up in the next chapter. Honest. Possibly. Maybe. Well... Yeah.

I made up the whole healing saliva thing mainly because I didn't want Alfred to be cut up all the time. But I thought it would be neat (and possibly help with the plot/theme/is there a theme?) if vampires were not created by killing them and bringing them back to life. It's just something they can generate in their saliva when they bite someone they want to stay alive. Forever.

Although Mat seems overly annoyed at Arthur, the rest of the hunters are just as angry. They're just better at keeping themselves in control. Aleks, especially. Or so I decided.

Arthur didn't get drunk because vampire's use alcohol as food. If he drank so much that he was sated in thirst and hunger (it'd have to be a lot), THEN he would get drunk. But he only had a couple of glasses. Or three. I don't really know how much he drank while Alfred's attention was elsewhere.

Vampires also can't blush - that'd be a waste of precious blood they don't have.

Also, I've realised... These first chapters are establishing characters and backgrounds.