Chapter 6: Malls Mean Adventure?

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Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians. We got turkey on Sunday. Yippee!

What am I thankful for? Friends, family and my dog, Molly. And a roof over my head. And a job. And the ability to write. And an audience. Which would be you.

Thank you for reading. And a special thank you to those who review, pm me, go on the Thread and the Facebook, and generally laugh at my jokes. I am so glad to know you.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is merely coincidental. Opinions expressed are those of the characters, and may not reflect those of the author. Ivo belongs to me. And to Leah. Hands off or she'll tear you a new orifice. Grr.

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Ivo's pov:

I steel myself and walk into the Shopper's Drug Mart. I am a vampire on the hunt. For feminine hygiene products. And I have no idea what I am doing.

So many little packages... so much choice. What if I choose wrong? I do not wish to disappoint my mate.

I am confounded. I am a male, for goodness's sake. How am I supposed to choose?

A young human male of indeterminate character approaches me. "May I help you, sir?" he asks politely.

I seize the opportunity gratefully. "It's my fiancée. She has obtained her period, for the first time in ten years, and I have no idea-"

He leaves me. He just turns around and leaves me. Maybe I should drain him. Rude neanderthal.

"Kandy!" he bellows. "Help the poor guy in Aisle Three. Please!"

Ah. It is not a feeling of dominance over me that drives him away. It is a feeling of inadequacy. I understand. He is unable to help, so he has obtained help for me. Wonderful.

Kandy comes to the rescue. She is about 18, and looks like Avril Lavigne, complete with eyeliner and everything.

"Need some help?" she smirks, blowing a disgustingly ugly pink bubble at me. It makes her look like a manatee.

Gum. How revolting.

"Please," I say, latching onto the idea of 'help'. Yes, focus on the goal, Ivo. You need this human's help. Leah is suffering embarrassment in front of humans. Help Leah.

"What's the matter?" Kandy asks sympathetically.

"It's my fiancée. She has obtained her period, and she hasn't had one in ten years. I have no idea what to get her. At the moment, she is bleeding heavily all over the change room cubicle in Sears' Lingerie Department, through light-coloured leggings. It is somewhat of an emergency," I declare, blinking innocently at her.

Kandy stares at me like I am an alien. Which I might as well be. Finally, she drawls " 'Kay...". She pulls three things off the confusing shelves and hands them to me.

I examine them carefully, to see if they match Leah's new friend Kendra's specifications: Maxi Thins. Check. Super OB Tampons. Check. Feminine Wash. Well, not on the list, but I am not going to question it.

"Thank you. It was also recommended to me, by the Sears sales associate, to bring my mate something called 'baby wipes'."

Kandy stares at me like I have said something strange. I wonder what I have said that could be interpreted as strange. She blinks. "You don't watch much TV, do you?" she asks me.

"No, I do not own one," I admit. Perhaps I shall have to get one. Perhaps Leah will want one.

"Ah," Kandy nods, raising her eyebrows. "I will get you some baby wipes."

She does so. "Here."

"Thank you," I say politely.

Kandy motions for me to follow her to the back of the store, where she gets a pill bottle off a shelf next to a desk marked 'Prescription Pick Up'. "Give her some Midol, too," she orders me. Then, she picks up a little red shopping basket and holds it out while I drop everything in.

It is strange to have a human girl give me orders. Most of the human females I meet defer to me, because of my position as an artist and writer. Rarely do I have to interact with someone upon whose help I must rely. And this girl thinks that because she has knowledge that I do not possess, and she is taller than me, that she outranks me on the food chain. Yes, it is strange.

"Thank you," I smile slightly, taking hold of the handle of the shopping basket. "You have been most helpful."

Kandy nods, dropping a small bottle of drinking water in my basket. "If you want to earn some brownie points with her, buy her some chocolate," she suggests.

"Oh," I say, surprised. Brownie points. Translation: make Leah happy. "What is good?"

Kandy's eyes flick over me. She definitely thinks I am strange. She is not like the kind young woman, Kendra, who works at Sears. I do not like this girl. She is impertinent. However, I need the assistance. I want to please my mate.

"Please, I do not eat it. You choose," I direct her a little sternly.

"She'll like these," Kandy shrugs, and hands me something called Lindt Dark Chocolate Balls. I pick up two more packages in different coloured cartons, listing different flavours. Just to be safe.

"Thank you," I say again.

"You're welcome. You're a pretty nice guy to do this for your girlfriend. If things with her ever go tits up, give me a shout," she directs me, slipping something into my shirt pocket.

I take it out and look at it. It is like a business card, but it is not. Or perhaps it is. Is she a prostitute? Who makes up business cards with the idea of finding a mate? On the card is her name and contact information. Yuck.

Woodenly, I pass back the card. "No, thank you. I am getting married in nineteen days."

Kandy pouts and walks away.

Not an attractive specimen.

I head for the till, and buy everything that the predatory Kandy has obtained for me. Then, I hurry back to Sears.

*~o~o~8~o~o~*

Kendra is waiting anxiously. Her dark eyes are troubled. I wonder where she is from. Jamaica? Bermuda? Now here is a human worthy of a friendship with my Leah. I shall have to encourage it.

Kendra visibly relaxes when she sees me, and her heart rate slows. "She's been crying," she whispers to me, not realizing Leah can hear. But I am not annoyed, because Kendra is kind. Rather, my still heart pangs as I look toward Leah's cubicle.

"Why?" I ask stupidly.

"She's embarrassed," Kendra explains. "Especially since it happened in front of you."

"That is silly," I declare. "It is of no import." But I am torn. Do I help Leah more by giving her personal space, or by helping her personally? I do not wish to appear inconsiderate. I want my mate to be pleased with me.

"Kendra, will you take her these?" I ask softly. "If Leah is embarrassed, I do not wish to make it worse. I will comfort her when she's ready."

"You are a prince," Kendra declares. She takes the bag from me and riffles through it. "You are better than a prince. You are a god. She is going to be all better in a minute."

Kendra takes Leah her things, and I hear Leah open them. Leah stifles a sob.

I start counting seconds. "Don't cry, my love," I whisper, knowing she will hear me.

Kendra is explaining how to use the things in the bag. It takes a lot longer than a minute. I frown, perplexed.

A few minutes later, Kendra emerges from the change rooms, carrying a spray bottle and a roll of paper towels. She secretes them beneath the sales desk. "She's just getting out some of her new clothes," Kendra explains to me.

Odd noises come from the change rooms. Plastic-y, crackly noises. Leah is unwrapping some of the things, and I hear her move around as she uses them.

Kendra stands next to me, arms folded, and stares a little worriedly at the change room. I hand her a tip, and her jaw falls slack. Humans really like money. However, Kendra tries to give it back. "You don't need to tip me," she declares.

A fine female. Very old-fashioned. However, I'm not leaving without giving her the tip. "Please take it," I plead. "You have been indispensable today. I would not have known what to do, had you not directed me."

Kendra looks shy. "You didn't have to tip me. But thank you. I'll buy a treat for myself and my son."

"Good. I'm glad," I declare.

Leah calls my name, still sounding tearful. I walk into the change rooms. "Yes, Beautiful Leah?"

She opens the door and pulls me into her arms. "Thank you," she says weakly, trying to keep her tears from me.

I pat her consolingly. "Come now. No more tears. It is all solved. Why do you still look so sad?"

"Because," she moans, "it doesn't do any good, for me, to be fertile."

I pat her a bit faster. "Have you seen the movie, 'Jurassic Park'?" I ask her.

My mate sniffs, and smiles. "You watched a dinosaur movie?"

I huff a little. "Well, the computer graphic technology was remarkable for the time. Not a bad story, either. So, have you watched it?"

Leah smiles. "Yes."

"Then, I quote: 'Life will find a way'."

Leah sniffs. "You think?"

"Why not?" I suggest, caressing her hair and kissing her forehead softly.

Leah chokes a laugh. "You're pretty smooth, you know that?" she smiles.

I would do anything to make her smile. It is like the first day of sun after the blackness of winter. I cannot resist making a joke. "Smooth all over. My kind are known for that." I arch one brow at her. How fun it is to flirt.

Leah runs a hand over my face and neck. "Is that so. Do you shave?"

What a perplexing question. "Why?"

Leah is still caressing me. This has an interesting effect, considering the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

Baby wipe residue does not smell very pretty.

"Your skin is very smooth, Mr Iluak," she croons. " A lot of the men at La Push, well, they don't need to shave," she shrugs.

I smile at my mate. Smoothly. "No. I do not shave."

"Do you mind if I stop off at the washroom?" Leah squints at me.

"Of course not," I smile. That's a relief. She will wash off the baby wipe nastiness.

We leave the dressing rooms, lugging everything with us. Back in my day, we would have left all our things in the sled, and let the dogs mind it, and carry it. Not that this load is tiring. It is merely an awkward load.

Life was much simpler then. I amuse myself now, imagining a cart, and dogs, waiting patiently outside Sears, loaded up with parcels. Kaya would get a lot of attention from the humans. That would be funny.

I am awakened from my reverie. "Ivo?" Leah asks tentatively.

"Yes, love?"

"Um... how bad do I smell?"

"You're fine," I lie.

Leah's eyes narrow. "You're lying."

I am sheepish. "Sorry."

Leah gulps. "Is it... difficult for you? To smell it, I mean?"

I chuckle. "I am not going to bite you, Leah."

She blushes. "So I smell like food?"

I wince. "No. Actually... you smell like baby wipes. And to me, they smell..."

"Just say it."

"Sour," I admit, cringing.

Leah cringes. "Sorry."

"My love, you never smell like food to me," I tell her.

"Well, what do I smell like?" she asks curiously. "Normally, I mean."

I hope she does not get angry with me. "I like the way you smell. Very much."

"Go on," she says, a trifle nervously.

"I am hesitant to say. I do not wish you to be embarrassed." I do not wish you to murder me.

Leah bristles. "Do I smell like a dog, Ivo?" Angry tears gather at the corners of her eyes.

"Oh, please do not be offended, Leah," I beg, turning to take her hands. I hold them against my chest. If she cries, my still heart shall be rent in two. "You smell like sunshine on the hottest summer days."

She peeps up at me, reassured.

"And like a freshly-washed puppy. I know not everyone loves that scent, but I do. It reminds me of the day I found Kaya, my first companion in so many years." I rub the backs of her hands soothingly.

"You... don't mind?" Leah asks, thawing.

I chuckle. "Quite the contrary. But I fear that I am not a fan of baby wipes."

"Better than blood," she corrects me wryly.

"I don't think so." We have reached the washroom. "Take all the time you need," I instruct her.

My mate turns back and kisses my cheek. "You really are a prince." She goes into the washroom.

I cannot believe how happy I feel. Mere days ago, life was bleak. I have watched the stories of others unfold, wondering if I might ever be more than a chronicler of tales. Perhaps now, more of my own story may be written.

Something tickles my throat.

A chubby boy of about eight years is wailing, his nose pinched between the fingers of a large, annoyed mother. "This is what you get for picking your nose in public!" she hisses and huffs like a bull seal. They push past me into the Ladies' Room.

What! It is alright to pick your nose in private until it bleeds?

Silly human.

Leah emerges from the washroom, looking sallow. "Boy, this isn't your day for blood, is it?" she moans.

"I am used to it," I say dryly.

Leah speaks to me very quietly. "Doesn't it burn your throat?"

My face twists. "That kid is making me queasy, actually."

Leah grins. "Let's go."

"Lunch?" I suggest.

"Yes, please," she enthuses. "I'm starving."

"I do not understand how on earth you can be hungry after that moose," I say, shaking my head.

My mate shrugs. "High metabolism."

"Obviously," I tease, shoving my hands in my pockets.

Leah pokes me in the ribs, making me squeal. I poke her back and she squirms away from me, giggling. So we have a little poking match.

Yes, she is the sun after a long, barren winter.

We have reached the main escalators. Beneath them, the humans have erected a sitting area with trees. A young woman sits there, nursing her baby. She has pretty hair. Strawberry blond, it curls about her head. A middle-aged man ogles her lasciviously.

I nudge Leah.

The young mother has noticed the pervert. Her large blue eyes dilate. I smell her fear. Her heartbeat escalates.

Leah, to my surprise, walks straight over and sits down beside the girl on her bench. The mother is surprised, too.

I sit down on her other side, and glare at the pervert.

"Oh, hi pal," my Leah grins. "I haven't seen you in a while. We used to go to school together, remember?" she says pointedly.

The girl seizes on it. "Yes. But I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."

"Leah Clearwater. And this is my fiancé, Ivo Iluak."

"Hi," I say, not taking my eyes off the pervert.

"Hi, Ivo," the girl says softly. The baby sucks noisily. How cute. Greedy little calf. "I'm Marley Williams," she tells Leah.

"Oh, yes. Of course," Leah says warmly, rolling her eyes.

I am still glaring. The man refuses to look away. He is a predator, I am certain. It takes one to know one.

I growl subliminally. The humans cannot consciously hear it, but they pick up on the menace nonetheless.

Leah peers at the baby. "Is your little guy about done?"

Marley is flustered. "Oh. Almost."

"Perhaps we can walk you somewhere," Leah suggests.

"Oh. Yes. Thank you. I think I want to go home. My car is in the parking garage." The baby is finished. Marley adjusts him in her arm, and tries to fix her clothes.

"May I hold him?" Leah asks helpfully.

"Oh. Yes. Thank you. But you'd better put his blanket on your shoulder in case he spits up," Marley warns, putting her little flannel blanket on Leah's shoulder. Leah lifts the baby onto it. He bites his fists, and squirms a little. Leah pats his back, very gently, while Marley reassembles her garments, and collects her things. The baby lets out a colossal burp, and contributes some methane, from his hind end, to the atmosphere.

Were I not preoccupied with glaring at the pervert, I would laugh. I'm still growling at him.

Maybe I should eat the pervert.

Leah stands up, rocking from foot to foot. She presses her lips to the baby's head. Lucky baby.

Marley slips her baby sling over her shoulder. With Leah's help, they get him into it. He sighs contentedly, and goes to sleep.

The three of us collect our shopping, and head toward the elevator.

"Is he gone, Ivo?" Leah whispers. Marley's frightened eyes swivel over to me.

"No. He is waiting out of sight, hoping we will leave Marley unattended. He is just over there by the juice bar," I inform them, cocking my head toward him slightly.

"Pervert," Leah growls.

"I have a very bad feeling about him," I admit.

"Maybe we should alert Security," Leah suggests.

"Yes," I agree, a growl thrumming in my chest. Marley looks at me, disconcerted. I must be more careful.

We find the mall cops, and fill them in. They take down a report and a description, but the man is gone.

The elevators here are always fun. They are fast, and smooth, and made out of glass so that you can look around as you go up or down. I stand protectively beside Marley as the three of us, with baby, climb inside.

"Thank you for helping me," she husks. "That man. He's really creepy."

"Hopefully, we'll lose him in here," Leah murmurs.

I test the air. The predator's scent is nearly overpowered by the scent of car exhaust, but I can smell his traces.

The elevator door opens.

"Ivo, is he gone?" my mate mutters as we stand within, with Marley huddled between us.

Some of the traces are stale, but there is a fresh scent. He is here. "He must have seen Marley when she parked the car," I inform my companions. "He is here. Behind a pillar. He is lurking. Don't worry, Marley. We shall not leave you and the baby in danger. But we must catch him, Leah."

I pass Leah one of the suitcases I am carrying, and grasp Marley by the elbow. Her eyes are wide and frightened. We walk her to her car, and guard her while she straps the baby into his car seat with shaking hands.

Marley hugs Leah, pats my arm, gets in her car, and drives away.

He is lurking in the shadows. I growl, and Leah pretends ignorance of his presence. She walks ahead of me, pretending to hunt in her pockets for nonexistent car keys. She sets down her baggage next to the driver's side door of a sleek BMW, and I add the suitcases I am carrying to the pile.

"I'm okay," she informs me. "Don't worry about the bags. I'll put them in the car. You'd better go, or you're going to be late for work."

"Not without a kiss," I state, zoning in on her mouth. Leah chuckles under her breath, and tips her face up. I bend down eagerly, drinking in her rich scent. I flick my tongue against her lip, and she opens for me. She is a sunflower. She tastes of summer berries. Sweet, and young. Shimmering heat on fields of wheat. I would like to give her a kunik, but not in front of the pervert.

"Stand clear," I mouth into her ear.

"Don't kill him," she mouths back.

I draw back, and exchange a meaningful look with my fiancée. Her eyes hold passion and aggression, two kinds of fire that I understand.

"Enjoy your afternoon," I tell her, backing up. With a cold smile, I head back toward the elevator.

As soon as its doors open, I enter it, then jump out at vampire speed, disappearing into shadow.

The pervert wastes no time. He pushes Leah up against the car, furious. "You and your boyfriend think you can prevent me from having my fun?" he hisses, rubbing his body against her.

He is pushing his erection against my Leah.

I am livid.

Leah, however, is colder than Greenland. And that is saying something. "Absolutely," she says sardonically.

"Bitch!" the man spits. Obviously, he has no sense of self-preservation.

Before he can blink, my mate has him pushed down against the side of the car, his arm twisted behind him. I grab his arm, and switch places with Leah, growling. The pervert resists, cursing us. The hair on the back of his neck stands at attention. Something pops. His elbow is dislocated. Oopsie. He screams, but continues to wriggle around.

"Stop resisting," I bark. "Or I will kill you."

"I'd like to see you try, pipsqueak," he sneers, twisting as he tries to look down at me.

What is it with these humans? They don't think I am scary, because I am not tall. I have never understood this. But many who have been arrogant, have also fallen victim to my thirst.

I could really go for a snack right now.

"Citizens' arrest," Leah snarls.

"Just wait 'til I get my hands on you!" he yells, struggling uselessly against me.

"Leah, go get the cops," I instruct my mate. She flies to the elevator, and disappears.

The pervert attempts to drop to the ground, in order to escape me. I pin him against the car.

"Let me go, Jackie Chan!" he snaps. "Help! I'm being assaulted. Help!" he bellows.

Much more, and I am going to drain this insect in public. "I would stop resisting, if I were you," I say silkily. "I only need a little more provocation to kill you. I do not like people who pick on the vulnerable. And you rubbed yourself against my mate like a cur in heat. Do not push me."

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Let me the fuck go, Fu Manchu," he yelps, writhing. Oh. This name I know. Apparently, he thinks I am a Japanese crime fighter. How amusing. He kicks my shin, and howls, hopping on his other foot. I laugh.

The pervert manages to look in my eyes, and the high colour fades from his face. Again, he drops like a stone, in hopes that I will be unable to maintain my hold on him.

I clench his wrist. He screams as it shatters, and starts to blubber about suing me and coming after me and my mate.

Luckily for him, Leah is back with a pair of armed police officers.

The pervert rants and cries the whole time we are giving our report, promising that he will see us in court because Leah and I dislocated his elbow and I broke his wrist. Regardless, he is handcuffed as a potentially dangerous offender.

The cops look at us. Leah cannot be more than five feet tall. I am 5'6". The pervert is at least six feet tall. The cops compare us. Hmm... Big, burly, ugly guy versus two small, harmless-looking native people.

No contest.

They do not know any better.

"I want to press charges on him," pervert pouts. "He broke my wrist."

"He resisted arrest," I protest. "After accosting my fiancée with his erect penis."

"She came onto me," the perv wails.

"In your dreams," Leah says, giving him a filthy look.

"We'll sort it out, down at the station, Cop #1 drawls. "It will all be on the security cameras."

Leah looks at me, wide-eyed. I shrug slightly. I have done nothing that cannot be explained away. Fast movement? Glitch in the tape. Super strength? Martial artist. Champion.

Cop #1 stuffs the pervert into the back of his cruiser, while Cop #2 runs the man's identification. A red flag comes up.

"Hey, Chris!" he says excitedly to his partner. "This guy has an outstanding warrant."

"That so, Doug?" Officer #1 -Chris- growls, delivering his best intimidating look to the pervert.

"For speeding tickets," the pervert howls.

Toronto cops hate speeders. My sharp teeth snap together involuntarily, and my smile flashes dangerously. Perv flinches as Officer Chris slams the cruiser door shut on him.

Just this week, some speeders raced on the QEW Highway, and clipped a car, which caused a chain reaction and resulted in a five car pile up, and the death of two innocents. Our police will not be thrilled with Mr Speeder Pervert. Leah and I beam at each other. Officer Chris waves, and gets in the driver's seat. He ignores our complaining adversary.

"Thank you for your assistance, Mr Iluak, Miss Clearwater," Officer Doug says to us smugly. "We have your contact information. I'm looking forward to your new show, sir. You are both excused."

Leah and I thank him, retrieve our shopping, and head for Greenjeans.

After Leah has her lunch, we do a little more shopping. Then, it is time to go home, rearrange my possessions, add hers, and wait for her bed to be delivered.

The bed arrives, and in no time at all, it is assembled. Leah says she is exhausted, and wants me to cuddle her.

I shut the curtains, and turn off the lights. Tentatively, I get into bed with her, and, following orders, place my body close to hers. All that shopping, and she claims she did not buy an appropriate pair of pyjamas. She is wearing one of my t-shirts, and it hangs nearly to her knees.

"Ivo," she yawns. "Your jeans are hurting me. Take them off, please."

I tense, shyly.

"I'm not going to rape you," she says sleepily. "Edward used to hold Bella, when she was human, and she slept. I want that, too," she declares.

I am touched by a little sadness. Her kinsman, and his wife, are evenly matched. Leah will never be a vampire. She is not human. If life were to find a way, and we were to make a child, who knows what it would do to her body? Leah told me how Bella changed, as her pregnancy progressed. How all the hybrid mothers changed, as their infants developed. But they were humans. Not Kwali.

I ought not to have raised her hopes.

"Of course," I say quietly, and get up, to take off my jeans. I slip back into the bed, and Leah moves back so that her back touches my front. She squirms. An unfamiliar, yet pleasant, sensation overwhelms me.

"Gee, here I thought Edward was shy. Can you put on a t-shirt or something? Just so you know, most people don't wear dress shirts to bed."

"Oh," I say lamely, very distracted. The air whooshes by as I go to the closet, take off my shirt, and put on a t-shirt.

Leah snickers. "You could have done that more slowly," she says, winking.

"Brat," I declare, crawling in beside her for the third time. I nestle up behind my mate, attempting not to touch her inappropriately, and she hums happily. It is time for a kunik. I rub my nose and mouth against her cheek and hair, snuffling up her scent. She smiles, and turns to face me, throwing her leg over mine. I smile against her neck, relishing all that is Leah. Her spirit and humour. Her scent, her closeness, her softness, and her heat.

A few minutes later, Kaya jumps heavily up onto the bed, turns three bouncy circles, and lies down on our feet, sighing. We snicker, and huddle up under the covers. I lean my forehead against Leah's neck, and shut my eyes.

Someday, hopefully soon, I will be her lover. Her husband. But for now, this is enough. This is bliss.

Leah sleeps, and I match the rhythm of her breathing, and listen to the music of her heart, and bask in her warmth, and the warmth of Kaya.

This is what happiness feels like.