Chapter 21-Dreams and Desires
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.
a/n-In this chapter Mick's naked. Beth isn't. This will have to be addressed and I plan to in a later chapter. But for right now you'll just have to work with me, here. OK?
And I will grant you that I'm not sure of the exact layout of Mick's fortress of solitude. So I have taken liberties to design it as I see fit or be sufficiently vague that it really doesn't matter. It is my story after all!
Hope you enjoy!
With one hand braced against the wall beneath the shower head, Mick rested the side of his face against his arm and let the hot water sluice over his head and neck. It tinged slightly pink as it started to dissolve the crust of blood matted in his hair.
He'd decided to let the water work its magic after his attempt to scrub the wound on the back of his head had brought unexpected tears to his eyes. Evidently the laceration was deeper than he'd originally thought. He could probably use a couple of stitches but he couldn't do it himself and wasn't keen on heading to the ER where questions could be asked and lab tests run. And he certainly wasn't going to run to the doctor that Josef kept on retainer for his freshies. He'd let the wound heal on its own and add one more scar to the growing list of marks his body was acquiring.
He savored the heat from the water and felt the knots in his muscles start to relax in its soothing massage. Prior to a week ago the temperature of the cold water would have barely been cool enough to be in his comfort zone. Now he often left the shower with his skin rosy from the piping hot water. It felt lavish and self-indulgent…and transitory. He reached to turn up the hot water a just a tad more because he could still bask in it. There would come a time when this would become little more than a sweet memory and he aimed to make it as indelible as he could.
He turned away from the wall and lifted his face to the water raining down over him. He had to admit that not all of the warmth he was feeling was a result of the water. He lathered the soap across his chest and stomach and then lower, feeling his hardness through the soapy wash cloth.
Beth was waiting for him downstairs.
He huffed a breath and one corner of his mouth tightened in a smile. Evidently his ability to perform sexually was not going to be a problem for him tonight. However much blood he had lost during his encounter with Josef, he seemed to have enough left to maintain an erection and still remain standing. While not being able to perform would be embarrassing if the occasion presented itself, passing out while making the attempt would be beyond humiliating.
Since he'd slept and eaten again he was feeling quite a bit better. His body might not repair itself as instantly as it had without the compound in his system but it was, never-the-less, doing a pretty damn good job with what it had to work with. The human body had always amazed him with its recuperative powers. All without the benefit of what ever it was that had crept insidiously though his body over the last fifty five years, keeping him looking thirty instead of eight-five.
He finished his ministrations with the washcloth and, while still in the shower, ran a razor over the stubble on his face. Being clean and shaven lightened his heart and brightened his mood. It had always worked that way. During the war men had always fought better and harder after a good meal, a shower and clean clothes.
Now, he was about to undertake a campaign of his own agenda. He'd dallied and danced around the issue of making love to Beth for months because the thought of hurting her was so abhorrent to him. He'd not had sex with a human since before he was turned. He knew it was possible but also knew that it did not always turn out well. And the loser was always the human. The vague explanations he had given her never addressed his greatest fear.
The bite. To bite during climax was as natural to a vampire as breathing was to a human. And it happened when the vampire was in the least control of their urges. With another vampire it was an accepted fact of what they were. But, with a human, it could be deadly. And he had not been sure he had the control necessary to bring about a mutually satisfying experience for both of them without injuring her.
Now, it was not an issue. His body was functioning just as it had before he'd ever met Coraline. But since he had no way knowing how long he had to spend with Beth as a human he couldn't take this time for granted. He wouldn't. He might never have the opportunity to love her, this completely, again.
MOONLIGHT MOONLIGHT MOONLIGHT MOONLIGHT MOONLIGHT
Dinner had been sumptuous. They had agreed that the entrée she'd snubbed earlier as 'meatloaf' deserved a much loftier designation. The herb laced delicacy soaking in a light, wine-based sauce could be compared to traditional meatloaf only by the fact that it was cooked in a loaf shape and sliced in one-inch slabs.
While Mick was upstairs showering Beth handled cleaning up the remains of their dinner. The only thing they hadn't devoured was the dessert and, after some serious rearranging, she found a niche for it in the refrigerator. He'd been right when he'd told her he had more food in his refrigerator that she had in hers. She counted boxes from four different local restaurants. Now five.
Beth had listened with rapt attention to his account of the previous nights events. Try as he might to take responsibility, she hadn't bought it. She laid the blame directly on Josef who should have had the common sense to knock.
"Josef never knocks," he'd said, like it was one of the fundamental laws of nature.
She surveyed the rest of the downstairs. Why he was still sleeping on the couch instead of his bed she didn't understand, but there was no doubt that he was. The pillows were scrunched together at one end and partly jammed down between the arm and seat cushion. A blanket lay haphazardly over the back.
Her eyes traveled over the shifted furniture to the ruined railing and wall and she moved to the bottom of the stairs for a better look. The banister was broken away from the wall at the top of the stairs but was still attached to the newell post and a few of the spindles near the bottom. Hugging the wall side of the stairs she started up them to check out the broken plaster.
The plaster, where Mick's shoulder had initially hit, was completely broken out. A large hunk of wallboard sagged into the opening between the two-by-four studs and the lower part of the wall had a concave appearance. There were cracks running down the wall almost to the floor molding.
Standing midway on the stairs and looking down she noticed that the distance to the floor below looked much greater than when she'd been looking up from the living room. It was a miracle he hadn't broken any bones when he landed and skidded across the room. As it was, she imagined he must be pretty bruised and stiff.
The sound of the shower running caught her attention and, with just a few steps, she cleared the destroyed balustrade and stood at the head of the wide upstairs hallway. Mick hadn't bothered to close the bathroom door and steam billowed out into the hallway in little clouds.
She stood in the bathroom doorway and listened to him humming from the shower. It was odd. She couldn't remember ever hearing him hum or sing before coming to pick her up at her apartment the day before. Now that she thought about it she'd never heard any kind of music in his car or his house.
Drawn by his voice and the running water, a voyeuristic streak she hadn't realized she possessed surfaced. She grounded herself with one hand on the door jamb and took a step onto the tiled floor. She was way out of her comfort zone and couldn't imagine her humiliation if he caught her peeking at him.
The long length of his body could barely be seen though the steam fogged glass but it was enough that she felt her breath catch in her throat and was unable to turn her head away. His back was to her showing a creamy outline of wide shoulders, narrow hips and long, lean legs. She watched as he ran the washcloth he held in one hand over his opposite shoulder, down his arm, across his chest and then reverse sides.
She stood mesmerized by each movement she saw and only took a deep breath when the soap slipped out of his hand and he bent over to pick it up, all the while humming that melody to the thrum of the water.
She gripped the door jamb and felt her belly tighten as a wave of lust swept over her. It swelled in her chest and rushed over her skin like electricity. This was something she'd never experienced before, even with Josh. She liked sex, and desire was a familiar feeling. But this…this wasn't so much a desire as a need, as great as drawing in her next breath, which she seemed to be having some difficulty with at the moment. She could live without fulfilling a desire but death would be preferable to never having this gut-wrenching need satisfied.
If he turned back before she could convince him he needed her as much as she needed him then she would never have another opportunity. He wouldn't stay human forever. And she doubted he would ever consider turning her even if she asked. So, she would grow old; and he would stay young. The window for them to be together was small.
She had thrown herself at him on several occasions but he'd never given chase. He always stayed aloof and sidled out of the situation, taking a small piece of her pride with him each time. Now, maybe his resolve wouldn't be so firm. But she wasn't quite prepared to jump him in the shower…yet.
She forced herself back into the hall and was standing in his bedroom before she realized it. The bed was disheveled. The sheet and blankets pushed to the foot of the bed. One pillow lay lengthwise on the mattress and the other looked as though it had been thrown to the floor on the other side of the room. His jewelry was nested together on the dressing table beside his jeans and shirt.
She reached out with one finger and gently lifted the chain on the necklace he always wore. She held it up in front of her and studied the design. The fleur-de-lis pendant was surprisingly heavy and much more intricate than she had noticed before. Even though it was silver in color she was sure it had to be made of some other material. Perhaps the white-gold he'd said his ring was made of. She might not know where he slept when he wasn't human but she did have experience with seeing him suffer contact with silver. And it wasn't a pretty sight. As a matter-of-fact it had been damn scary.
As she stood gazing at the pendant swinging hypnotically from her hand she became aware of the sudden quiet. Her eyes darted to the mirror and she saw her wide-eyed, open mouthed reflection staring back at her accusingly. The water was no longer running in the bathroom. And she had no idea how long it had been off.
She dropped the necklace back onto the dresser and started toward the door with every intention of getting down the stairs and back into the living room as quickly as she could. But his footsteps in the hall forced her to reconsider. She backtracked toward the closet on the far side of the room and then turned again toward the doorway, realizing there was no way out other than the way she came in. She was caught. But at least it was in his bedroom looking at his jewelry rather than in the bath leering at his naked body. She'd have to own up to snooping a little and hope like hell that she didn't look as guilty as she felt.
She stood up straight and lifted her chin as he entered the room, head down and with a large white bath towel wrapped around the hips she had been admiring just minutes before. Dabbing at the back of his head with a smaller towel he didn't immediately notice her so she decided to take the first step.
"Hi," she said, raising her hand and wiggling her fingers in a weak wave of greeting. His yelp of surprise and quick back-step caused her to raise her brows and bite back a grin that threatened to spread across her face.
"Beth! I thought you were downstairs!" His words ran together as he tried to gather his wits. She'd scared the hell out of him.
"Did I just startle you?" she asked. His eyes were wide and that little furrow between his brows had appeared. She felt a certain amount of smugness that he hadn't known she was there.
"No! I mean, well, yeah. Yeah, you did! I didn't hear you come up. What are doing?" As if he didn't know. Others might have a cup of coffee after dinner. Beth snooped. He took a couple of barefoot steps into the room and tucked the end of the towel around his waist a little more securely in place.
"I wanted to see your…" The words melted away as her eyes roamed over his bare chest. He was still damp from his shower and droplets of water were gathering on the ends of several locks of hair. Her tongue involuntarily circled her lips as she watched one drop finally fall from a curl just behind his ear. It ran down his chest and rested on one nipple for an enticing moment before falling again and being absorbed by the white towel he had wrapped snugly around him.
"My…what?" he asked. He shifted from one foot to the other while his heart beat resumed its normal rhythm and the adrenaline spike burned off. His body was cut, scratched, bruised, battered and sore. This was not how he had wanted to present himself to Beth and he silently cursed Josef not only for the damage to his house but to his body.
She finally raised her wide blue eyes to meet his concerned hazel ones. Color had risen to his cheeks making him look much younger than he usually did. She felt, very much, like the lustful older woman about to seduce a younger, less experienced man. It was very different footing than she was usually on when she was with Mick. And she liked it. She liked it a lot.
He broke eye contact first and swiped the hand towel across his face to cover his increasing discomfort from her gaze.
"…bedroom…set," she finished. She cleared her throat and gestured toward the unmade bed. "It doesn't look like you've been getting much rest in it though." She picked up the pillow in the corner of the room and placed it lightly on the exposed bottom sheet at the foot of the bed.
"Yeah, well…the last time I slept in a regular bed I had a life altering experience. I couldn't seem to get it out of my mind." He was glad for the turn of the conversation. It gave him a moment to get his bearings.
"You dreamed about the night you were turned?" No wonder the bed was so tousled. Hers had looked much the same after her dream about Josh.
"I wouldn't call it dreaming," he said with exasperation. "You have to be asleep to dream and I wasn't able to get any in bed." His head snapped up and his eyes locked with hers briefly before he looked past her at some distant point in the room; one hand on his hip and the other extending toward her with the small towel. "Sleep…that is." He nodded briskly to affirm his words but kept his eyes from meeting hers.
She walked over to him so that she stood facing the shoulder the water drop had so recently plunged from. There were several more waiting their turn. She ran one finger down his shoulder to his nipple and smiled up at him. His discomfort was making her bold beyond her belief.
"Perhaps we'll have to give you something else to dream about while you're in bed next time," she whispered huskily. "So you can get some…sleep." She winked and walked slowly from the room leaving him with his imagination to consider her meaning.
Mick stood with his mouth open watching her retreat from the room. He blew a deep breath out of puffed cheeks and wondered how he had lost the upper hand when she had been the one who'd been caught snooping around.
He looked down at the towel around his hips and quirked an eyebrow. The fact that she had been dressed and he wasn't did give her an advantage. Next time he'd have to make sure they were on more equal terms.
MOONLIGHT MOONLIGHT MOONLIGHT MOONLIGHT MOONLIGHT
July 14-16, 1952-The Party House
Coraline showed him where he would sleep his days away on the second day of his vampiric honeymoon. She had purchased an industrial sized freezer for him and it had been installed in the sub-basement of the party house several days before their wedding.
When he saw it for the first time he was horrified. He couldn't imagine being sealed inside; in the dark; alone. He'd backed away from it even as his bride attempted to coerce him to lay in it.
Taking several steps backward he'd felt the basement wall come up solidly behind him. Without ever taking his eyes off of the purring piece of refrigeration he'd slid along the wall until abruptly coming to a stop in the corner. He hadn't learned a lot of the rules of his new existence yet but the idea of lying down in that freezer was unthinkable.
He'd resisted for another two days before, sick with exhaustion, he'd had to reconsider the benefits of the thermostatically controlled sleeping environment.
"Mick, listen to me! You have to rest!" She was trying to keep her alarm at bay. He looked bad. His eyes were sunken and yellowing. His movements were becoming spasmodic and she could see him working his tongue over his fangs which were refusing to retract. While he, thankfully, hadn't tried to run away again he had balked every time she tried to talk to him about what she considered to be a marvel of modern comfort.
"Just feel how cool it is," she encouraged. She lifted the lid and held her hand over the opening. She was also tired and needed to feed. But she had created this responsibility and had to make sure he was cared for. She had just never thought he would make it so difficult.
"You need this to regain your strength. You're not feeling well are you?" It wasn't really a question. She could tell he was failing and quickly.
He shook his head but didn't let his eyes wander from the white chest freezer. No, he didn't feel well at all. He nearly laughed hysterically at the thought. How could he feel so sick if he were dead? It didn't make sense. If death was nothing else, shouldn't it be the end of suffering? Whatever he had he done to deserve this misery he would gladly confess a thousand times over if given the opportunity. Just make it stop. Please.
His muscles were knotted and his head ached from what felt like a high fever. His mouth was dry and he desperately wanted something to drink. The very thought brought visions of thick, red, viscous liquid to his mind and his tongue flicked out over chapped, cracked lips in anticipation of a feeding.
"I thought the blood kept us alive," he croaked.
"It does, Mick. But you're so young. You need rest. Please? Come sleep. I'll leave the lid up. You don't have to feel confined," she pleaded. It wouldn't be as cold as he needed but it was better than having him seek out the cool of the basement floor as he had been the last two days.
He thought she sounded like his mom when he had asked her to leave a night light on in hall for him when he was a child. He supposed, in some perverted, demonic way, he was a child. He'd only been a vampire for a few days and he suspected his new wife was a good deal older than she had written on their marriage license.
He growled with frustration and weariness and distantly wondered if the sound had really come from him. Nodding his agreement he lurched toward the chest.
Relieved, Coraline helped him strip out of his street clothes and supported him as he climbed into the unit. As his body accepted the comfort of the freezing cold his mind accepted another fact of his new life. Cold and darkness were soothing and good. Heat and light would forever be his enemy. Then he was submerged in the frozen oblivion and his thoughts ground to a halt. His mind becoming as still as his frost-bound body.
Mick's Penthouse-present day
"What?" Mick raised his head and looked across the coffee table at Beth. He'd lost himself in memories from long past and had completely missed her last round of questions.
She giggled and swirled the wine around in her glass. "I said…do you dream when you're a vampire?"
"Ummm…no. That's not one of the perks of being a vampire. No dreams."
After he'd regained his composure, and his clothes, he'd shown her the freezer room upstairs. He provided an explanation about why he needed it which, of course, had prompted a spate of questions worthy of any daytime talk show host. However, it seemed to make complete sense to her that he would require the cold to rest and recuperate. He smiled wryly. Had he been half so accepting as she was he could have saved himself and Coraline a lot of misery from the very beginning.
"So you're just 'on' and then you're 'off'?" she asked, trying to understand as much as she could about the mysteries of his vampire existence.
"Pretty much," he said. He reached for the wine bottle and refilled both of their glasses. She had asked all the questions he had anticipated. How cold was it? How long did he sleep? Why no pillows or padding? She'd grown quiet for a few moments when she discovered he always slept in the nude. Most fabrics did not tolerate the extremely cold temperatures well and actually tended to wake him up as they froze and became uncomfortable next to his skin. The dream question though. That one was a surprise.
When he became human again he hadn't given a thought to dreaming, nor, for that matter, to sleep. Food. Warmth. Sun. Those were high on the list. It wasn't until his body started to tire that he realized he'd have to make other arrangements for resting while the compound raced through his veins.
Nestling down on the couch with an afghan had seemed like a dream come true that first night. But he'd wakened in the dark, early morning hours from a real dream that made the last fifty years disappear. He'd been sitting at his parent's kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee with his dad. His mom must have been baking because there were warm cookies on the table between them. He had stepped back in time to a place called home.
"I'm glad you're back, son. We've both missed you," his dad said over his coffee.
"Me too, dad. I've missed you too," he answered.
That was all there was to that first dream. No more words. Just the comfort of sharing a cup of coffee with his dad and knowing that they loved him and had missed him. The contentment he had felt during the dream had followed him through to the morning.
"Well, I guess no dreams, no nightmares, right?" Beth said softly taking another swallow from her glass.
"Right," Mick replied unconvincingly and lifted his own glass to his lips.
A sharp rapping on the door stopped any further discussion. He looked over his shoulder at the door and then down at his watch.
"Are you expecting someone?" Beth asked.
"No." He frowned and set his glass back on the coffee table but made no move to get up.
There was another knock but he remained quietly seated, apparently lost in thought.
Beth finished her wine and gestured to the door with her empty glass.
"Well, we know it isn't Josef," she chuckled. "This visitor is knocking!" She grinned at him. "So are you going to find out who it is?"
"Yeah." He stood and reluctantly walked to the door and flipped on the security camera. He dropped his head when he recognized the man standing on the other side of the door. He really didn't want to deal with this right now. Taking a deep breath he opened it briskly and greeted his guest.
"Hi, Mick."
"Hello, Carl. What brings you out this way?"
a/n- Oh Ho! Our little Beth is showing her lusty side. No faster than Mick's been working I can't really blame her. Can you? He needs a bit of prodding and it would appear that Beth is up to the challenge. So, Mick's been fed, bathed and properly attired. They both seem to have made up their minds as to what they want. Now they just have to synchronize their efforts.
Everyone look at their watches now. Mark! You have five minutes to re-read the chapter if you need to, think up some clever, witty review and press that button. Otherwise…who knows how long Carl might stay. A quick and encouraging review might get him out of the place in record time so that Mick and Beth can start synchronizing!