Disclaimer: Morganville is not mine and I'm not pretending it is. This story is for fun only :)

Cookie, I'm really glad you liked it! Thank you for the review, it made me a very happy bunny- with fangs ;)


7

The date hadn't ended with a kiss, to Myrnin's dismay, and Saoirse had went back to Oliver's house which had pissed Myrnin off to no end. Her mind reeled with possibilities. Myrnin was still after her which was causing some deep knot to form in her chest, though she was steadily ignoring it, thinking instead how she could use it to her advantage. Elliot wanted to know the magic -or whatever it was, that kept Morganville running, and Saoirse knew Myrnin would tell her, if she played her cards right. Then she could pass the information on to Elliot, he'd release her from the stupid blood bond he'd placed on her, and she could leave Morganville forever, leave Elliot behind and try to forget she'd ever met him. And she'd be alone again, no Oliver and no Myrnin.

Just Saoirse.

And that was what she wanted, right?

It was okay to use Myrnin like she would, because he'd betrayed her, right?

The click of the door echoed through the house and Saoirse could hear it from her temporary bedroom. Oliver was home. Really, she should have been out looking for lackeys for Elliot but she was doing so well with them already that she decided to take a break. Tiptoeing, she went to his room where he sat, taking off his brown leather boots, it was an oddly human gesture.

"What?" He said without turning around.

"Nothing. Just... you know, hey."

Oliver stopped, turned and gave her a look of disbelief, "Hey? Really?"

Ignoring his glare, she perched herself on the edge of his bed, "You smell like a hospital."

"I was just there," he said, clearly annoyed.

"Why?"

"Not that its your business, but Eve was stabbed, we are trying to find out by whom. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Saoirse shook her head- honestly she'd forgotten about the little goth girl, but she was glad to hear she was still alive, "Sadly, no. I did find her though, didn't pick up on any scents I knew. Considering I've been here a whole three days, that's not surprising."

Oliver sighed, his jaw was set tightly and Saoirse's mouth formed an 'o' in surprise, "Olly. You care for her! Well, I never thought I'd see the day that Olly actually liked a puny human."

"Don't call me Olly," was all he said, confirming her suspicions.

"Woahhh, so we talking like like, or just you know, like?"

"Eve was my employee, that is all, now go away," he snarled, but Saoirse was past the point of caring.

"Awww, Olly, you big softie! I won-"

In a flash he had pinned her to the wall, his hand tightly around her neck. It wasn't painful, and she could snap free if she tried but that would just make him more angry. Instead, she decided to wait until the fire in his eyes burnt out.

"Don't. Push. Me." He growled, his nose suddenly very close to her own. He bent toward her neck- as if to bite her and she screamed, "No!" and kicked him hard in the abdomen, knocking him backwards.

He didn't retaliate. He just stared, deathly still, a knowing look plastered on his face.

"How. How did you let that happen?" Oliver demanded. He was younger than her, by a few centuries, and so in theory he shouldn't be able to bully her, but his knowing stare made her uncomfortable. No point in lying when he knows the truth, she reasoned.

"I let my guard down, okay? For one freakin' second when I thought I was in love, and that he was in love with me. I was an idiot, I'll admit it, and I've been paying the price by being his damn slave ever since. So go on, look at me like I'm pathetic, shout at me for being stupid because there is nothing you can say or think that I haven't already screamed at myself!" She was screaming now, letting her rage pore out. It didn't make her feel any better, if possible it made her worse. Now not only was she weak, pathetic and stupid but also unstable and out of control.

Great.

Just great.

Too afraid to speak again, she just pushed his dark blinds back and stared into the night- not really seeing anything at all.

"You've always been a fool," Oliver said, and Saoirse couldn't even disagree, "You'd think after hundreds of years you'd stop trying to trust people. It only gets you hurt in the end. Its Elliot, isn't it? I could smell him on you, faint, but there. He hasn't been around in a while. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing. Its almost faded and he is going to release me after he gets here anyway. Then I'm out of here. Stop it."

Oliver tilted his head slightly, "Stop what?"

"Stop staring at me like you are disappointed. Like I've committed treason."

Oliver continued staring, "I'm not disappointed," then he turned and left, just like that, leaving her to wallow.


"Its not Jason, he's still under vamp security."

"Who else is on our evil-human list?"

"Kim?"

"Still in lockdown. Plus, lets not forget, just because she wasn't bit, doesn't mean it wasn't a vamp. Bishop slashed Doug without draining him."

Claire, Shane and Michael sat zombie like around Eve's hospital bed. Everything smelt sterile and depressing and the cold overhead lights hurt Claire's head. They'd been there all day, brainstorming and waiting for Eve to wake up. She didn't.

They'd gotten no where though, they had no leads and Eve hadn't woken to tell them anything. Claire sighed, leaning back into Shane's arms and rubbed her temples. Today sucked. Eve being hurt sucked. Everything sucked.

She had no idea who could've done that to Eve, or even why Eve was out when it was so dark. Sure, Oliver had called round, but he'd been useless too.

"Are we sure Saoirse isn't involved?" Shane asked for the hundredth time. Claire shrugged,

"I don't know. It doesn't seem to fit. I mean, if it had been her, why would she have brought Eve to us? We hadn't seen her and she could have escaped easily enough."

"Maybe she was just trying to throw us off her tracks," Shane responded.

"Yeah, maybe," Claire said, glancing at Michael. He hadn't moved, not an inch, his face was eerily blank and directed at Eve's, as if by will alone he could make her okay. There was no point in trying to get him to leave, Claire and Shane had been trying all day, he simply refused or ignored them.

"I'm going to go have a shower, try and clear my mind and maybe I'll think of something. Call me if she wakes up, straight away," Claire said and stood, kissed Shane softly and glanced at Michael who still hadn't moved. She shuffled out into the dull halls, the long white walls almost buzzing from the horrid lights and making her head pound.

It was still light outside, though the sky was a dull grey haze that looked ominous. The nights were getting darker quicker as autumn crept over them, its amber blanket twisting through the streets of Morganville just as the cool breeze did and Claire pulled her jacket closer to her body. On the way home to the Glass house, she passed the alley where it had happened. Her heart raced as she thought of her best friend, of how much pain Eve must have felt. How long had she been laying there waiting? Did she think she would die? Did she give up hope of being rescued?

Claire would find out who did it. She would, and when she did, they would pay.

Saoirse paced up and down Oliver's living room. It was odd how human it looked, she thought, its pale green walls, shiny wooden floors and comfy grey sofa. There was even a plant, squished right into the corner. Of course, the plant was purely to hide the fake wall behind it that probably had weapons stashed in it.

Her time was running out, she wanted to get out of Morganville and the quickest way was to get Elliot what he wanted. Something kept Morganville running. The way they controlled those invisible barriers at the edges of the town and Saoirse was sure that they must have some sort of surveillance. It all connected up to some sort of system, but how did it work? Who was behind it?

Myrnin, probably, it only made sense to have the genius handle something so complex. But, knowing Myrnin, it was probably some sort of crazy thing- something that ran on sweat, or blood, or cookies, or bobble-heads. It could be anything which made her job a million times harder. She'd have to make him tell her, it was the only way. But how?

Well, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.