PLEASE READ THIS!!!
I've done a chapter-re-do-type-deal. Now they are all reletively the same length. If you've read it up to this point, and are looking for the new stuff, go to the last chap. if you haven't read up to now, well then start already! Don't forget to review! Please?
========================
Thicker Than Water
Author: Safire/Luna/R'misha
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
Author's Notes: Buffy and Whose Line is it Anyway? crossover(don't look at me like that. It ain't that peculiar). Post the Gift, so buffy ain't there. Starts witl Whose Line characters and Buffy characters enter in a bit.
Rating: R overall. For now.
Dedication: To Dan Patterson and Joss Whedon. Thanks for the great entertainment.
========================
Drew Carey stood, staring and not wanting to believe. He could feel his heartbeat quicken more than it already had as he looked to the wound. He checked for a pulse again. None. Not a damn thing.
Greg Proops watched as Drew checked. He eyed the double mark, trying to come up with a different soulotion than what he and Drew had seen. He shuddered as the image came back. They had thought it was just a normal fan. It was a fan, but not a normal one. Far from it.
Now, Drew and Greg were alone in Drew's office, with the lifeless body of Ryan Stiles streched out on his desk. On Ryan's neck were two small wounds, blood flowing freely from each. It collected in a pool on the desk, absorbing into his shirt, and Ryan's features were growing visibly paler by the second as it left him. His lips were coated with his own blood, as he had begun to cough it up before he passed out in Greg's arms. His body was already cold at that point, and Drew had helped carry him into the empty studio of Whose Line is it Anyway? while Greg tried as hard as he could not to breakdown himself.
They made eye contact and Drew nodded. They looked back to their friend and Greg touched the pool of blood with all four of his fingertips. It was like it had come out of a refridgerator, and had been there for days. It was thick and slimey, the blood of a dead person. Greg mentally kicked himself for thinking of Ryan as a dead person, even though that's what he was.
Yet, niether of them noticed as Ryan's eyes flickered open. He looked to them both, moving only his eyes. He felt cold. Really cold. And wet. He was shocked by the looks on their faces. He had never seen anything like them. Too sad to call it sad. The last thing he remembered was being at a taping for Whose Line, and his memory stopped there. The looks were bugging the hell out of him, and he wondered why he was lying on a desk. He decided to find out.
"Who died?" he muttered.
Drew and Greg let out unbelievible yells and jumped back. The movement startled Ryan and he sat up abrubtly, looking from one to the other. They were staring at him like a ghost, and he found it a little irritating.
"What the hell's wrong with you two?" No awnser. They continiued to stare. "What?"
"You're... You're... alive..." Greg stuttered. Ryan raised his eyebrows at him.
"Yea... I have been for forty-..." Ryan stopped as he saw the blood on Greg's hands, and the blood on the desk, and his shirt... He lifted his hand to his lips and they came back bloody as well. Ryan threw himself up off the desk and ran out the door, the other two at his heels.
He hardly acknowleged the fact that his back did not make it's usual protest to the sprinting as he found the men's room. He ran to the nearest mirror and looked into it.
Only to not see anything looking back.
Drew and Greg ran up beside him. He saw them, but not himself. He opened his mouth a couple times before finding most of his voice.
"What happened to me?" Ryan's voice was hoarse, and the others almost didn't hear him.
Drew looked to his friend's face, which was still staring at the mirror. "There was someone out in the alley. Came up to us. Asked for an autograph. He grabbed you and... And I'm pretty sure he bit you. Aw hell, I *know* he bit you. On your neck..."
Ryan put his hand to the wound. It came back with still more blood. "Can you help clean me off? I'd do it alone but I can't tell were it is." He turned on the tap in front of him. The cold water almost hurt, and he turned on the hot. It heated to unbearable for a person's skin but it felt good to Ryan. Greg grabbed some paper towels and began to wipe off Ryan's face and neck, moving carefully around the wound, as Drew went to Ryan's dressing room to get clean clothes.
Greg accidentally touched the holes and Ryan hissed in pain and suprise. Greg gasped.
"What?" Ryan asked.
"Open your mouth again."
He did. Greg moved a finger down one of Ryan's teeth, which was twice as long as it had originally been, and needle-sharp. It's double on the other side was the same.
"Ryan?"
"Y-yea?"
"I think I know what happened to you."
"Really? I'm dying to find out."
"You're already dead. Ry, I think... I think you're a vampire."
Ryan let out a hollow, barking laugh and Drew returned carrying jeans and a t-shirt. He quickly grabbed them and went into one of the stalls.
=A *vampire*? They don't exist. So how could I be one? But I can't see myself in the mirror... And I'm cold... The neck wounds... Somebody came up and bit me... And no pulse. Now this is just wonderful. Why? Well, he musta been hungry, needed blood. Doesn't sound too bad... What the hell? What am I doing wanting blood? But if I'm a vampire, I'll need it. And stay out of the sun... That's not too bad. I never really liked the sun anyway. What am I gonna do? If I go up and bite someone's neck when I come out I'll purpously walk out in the sun. I don't want to kill anyone. Or change anyone. How would I get blood with out doing that? How long would I last? I wanna go home.=
Ryan opened the door of the stall and Greg was sitting on the edge of the sink, still holding the bloody paper towels. Ryan felt his stomach growl as he looked at the red color. Drew was nowhere to be seen. Greg looked up at him.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm dead, Greg. Whatddya mean am I alright?"
"Sorry." He bowed his head.
"Were's Drew?"
"He's getting his car and he's gonna take you home."
"I can drive."
"Ryan..."
"Alright. Reflex. I hate people trying to baby me."
"Ry, you're dead. Er, un-dead, whatever." He looked back up. "I thought you were gone, man... I mean, not come back gone... I didn't know what to do..."
"Hey," Ryan said softly. He walked to Greg and pulled him into a hug. Greg returned the embrace and sighed. Ryan suddenly became aware that he didn't *need* to breathe.
"You're so... *cold*."
"Well, *you* feel like you have a fever. Relax. I'm not going anywere."
"But I didn't know that. You're one of the best friends I've ever had. I almost passed out when I saw that. Couldn't though. I'd of dropped you." Greg found it ironic that *he* was the one being comforted. And by the person who had just died at that. He pulled away, and didn't meet Ryan's eyes as Drew came back into the bathroom.
"C'mon, Ry. I'm taking you home."
"Okay." He turned to Greg again. "Don't worry. I'm still here. I'll call you tomorrow once I've done a little research." Ryan left. Drew gave Greg a small smile before he followed.
=====================================
Ryan sat in the seat of Drew's car silently. The clouds covered the moon and it was dark, but he could see just fine. Night-vision, almost. But in color, so more like a flashlight. He was still hungry, but he didn't want to think about what he might be hungry for. He wasn't tired, either, but so full of energy that 'figety' was an understatement.
Drew pulled up in Ryan's driveway and killed the engine. "Are you sure you don't want anyone to stay with you for tonight? Cause I will..."
"Drew, I don't want to get into a big, full-blown argument with anybody right now. I have to think on this. If Greg's right, then... Well, I'd rather not think about it."
"Ryan I don't want to leave you alone this way-"
"It's not gonna hurt me if you do! How could I be worse of?"
"I'm just worried! How could I not be? I just watched one of my best friends die right in front of me and then I saw him come back with fangs."
"I'll call you tomorrow. See if I can't find a way to the studio." Ryan shut the door before he could respond.
Drew drove away as Ryan reached the door. He fumbled for his keys a bit before realizing he had left them in the other clothes.
"Damn! First I die and now I can't get into my own house to have a nice, quiet nervous breakdown." He walked around the back of the house to the paitio. The glass sliding door was unlocked. Well, it was *supposed* to be unlocked. Ryan glared at the door as if it was the door's fault this was happening to him. Then he lost it.
Ryan's fist went through the glass as if it was paper. The shards flew everywhere they could. He continiued to hit the door until just the frame was left. It felt good, even with the small pieces embedded in his skin. He vaugely noticed he wasn't bleeding as he walked through the frame, not bothering to turn on the lights.
Funny, he thought. Five minutes ago he could've jogged ten miles. Now, he didn't feel like he could even make it to his bedroom. He did make it though, and fell on the bed without undressing. He pulled a pillow under his head and within moments he was fast asleep.
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It was like watching a movie. Ryan saw himself walking down a crowded street. It was night and the only source of light was the neon signs of various restaraunts. He couldn't hear anything except what seemed like thousands of heartbeats. He watched with growing curiousity as he entered a bar and ordered a beer, laughing at a joke the bartender made with dead, eyes.
After a while, Ryan saw a pretty woman sit down beside him and they started to talk. He didn't know if she recognized him from the shows or what. She was a beautiful woman, with long black hair, wonderful figure and fabulous face. And for some reason, a nice neck.
A nice neck? What's up with that?
They left together, and she rode with him in his car. Ryan knew by now what was going to happen, and he could hear the woman's heartbeat even better than if he was listening through a stethascope. He could not hear his own. Then he remembered he was dead. A v...
His thoughts were cut short and he watched himself lead the girl into his bedroom, kissing her all the while. He moaned in his sleep as he felt and saw everything that came after. And while he was enjoying most of it, and he couldn't escape the pleasure, he hated what he saw next.
Ryan watched himself begin to kiss her neck, making the spot red as he brought blood to the surface. He was on the verge of realease when two fangs punctured her flesh. He felt himself come but the woman was thrashing around beneath him, the look on her face clearly saying 'pain'. But he didn't care and simply held her still as he finished feeding, draining the life out of her. He finally pulled back, and the woman held a horrified look at the blood on his lips.
Ryan heard himself whisper, almost inaudibly, "I'm sorry."
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Ryan quickly sat up in his bed, a loud yell issuing from his throat at what had awakened him. A sick feeling entered his stomach and he padded into the bathroom, hunching over the toilet as his stomach emtied.
He sat with his back to the bathroom wall as he brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't find it in him to cry as the dream repeated itself over and over in his mind. Whatever had made him this way was telling him how to feed, how to survive. But Ryan didn't want to listen. He wasn't going to do that to anyone. But if he wasn't, then he had to come up with an awnser to the hunger he had started feeling again.
Time to do some legwork, he thought.
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Greg paced the living room of his house as he waited for Colin to pick up the phone.
"Hello?" Damn. He had been sleeping.
"Colin?"
"Greg. What what are you doing calling me this late? Hell, what're you doing calling me at all?"
"It's Ryan."
"What happened?"
"He had a little bit of an accident tonight. I can't explain it over the phone. Could you meet me somewhere?"
"Stay put, I'll come over there. Is he alright?"
"I can't figure that out. Maybe. I can't be sure. I'll meet you here."
"Alright. See ya."
Greg hung up the phone and looked down at his clothes. Blood. Ryan's blood. He hadn't changed when he had gotten home. He didn't want to wake Jennifer. It was bad enought waking Colin but he *had* to know. But he couldn't keep them on. He decided to risk it.
He felt like a theif sneeking around in his own bedroom. All he grabbed was some clean clothes and was out of there in less than a minute, making sure not to get anything else red-colored. Greg paused at the door as he watched Jennifer sleep, and thought about Ryan's family. What was this gonna do to them? He knew Pat would love Ryan no matter what, but he couldn't shrug off the feeling that she might leave him. Like he didn't see his family enough as it was.
A knock on his front door caused himself to curse at himself for not changing quickly. Greg breathed deep as he set his hand on the door, knowing it was his concerned Canadian friend.
=====================================
I've done a chapter-re-do-type-deal. Now they are all reletively the same length. If you've read it up to this point, and are looking for the new stuff, go to the last chap. if you haven't read up to now, well then start already! Don't forget to review! Please?
========================
Thicker Than Water
Author: Safire/Luna/R'misha
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
Author's Notes: Buffy and Whose Line is it Anyway? crossover(don't look at me like that. It ain't that peculiar). Post the Gift, so buffy ain't there. Starts witl Whose Line characters and Buffy characters enter in a bit.
Rating: R overall. For now.
Dedication: To Dan Patterson and Joss Whedon. Thanks for the great entertainment.
========================
Drew Carey stood, staring and not wanting to believe. He could feel his heartbeat quicken more than it already had as he looked to the wound. He checked for a pulse again. None. Not a damn thing.
Greg Proops watched as Drew checked. He eyed the double mark, trying to come up with a different soulotion than what he and Drew had seen. He shuddered as the image came back. They had thought it was just a normal fan. It was a fan, but not a normal one. Far from it.
Now, Drew and Greg were alone in Drew's office, with the lifeless body of Ryan Stiles streched out on his desk. On Ryan's neck were two small wounds, blood flowing freely from each. It collected in a pool on the desk, absorbing into his shirt, and Ryan's features were growing visibly paler by the second as it left him. His lips were coated with his own blood, as he had begun to cough it up before he passed out in Greg's arms. His body was already cold at that point, and Drew had helped carry him into the empty studio of Whose Line is it Anyway? while Greg tried as hard as he could not to breakdown himself.
They made eye contact and Drew nodded. They looked back to their friend and Greg touched the pool of blood with all four of his fingertips. It was like it had come out of a refridgerator, and had been there for days. It was thick and slimey, the blood of a dead person. Greg mentally kicked himself for thinking of Ryan as a dead person, even though that's what he was.
Yet, niether of them noticed as Ryan's eyes flickered open. He looked to them both, moving only his eyes. He felt cold. Really cold. And wet. He was shocked by the looks on their faces. He had never seen anything like them. Too sad to call it sad. The last thing he remembered was being at a taping for Whose Line, and his memory stopped there. The looks were bugging the hell out of him, and he wondered why he was lying on a desk. He decided to find out.
"Who died?" he muttered.
Drew and Greg let out unbelievible yells and jumped back. The movement startled Ryan and he sat up abrubtly, looking from one to the other. They were staring at him like a ghost, and he found it a little irritating.
"What the hell's wrong with you two?" No awnser. They continiued to stare. "What?"
"You're... You're... alive..." Greg stuttered. Ryan raised his eyebrows at him.
"Yea... I have been for forty-..." Ryan stopped as he saw the blood on Greg's hands, and the blood on the desk, and his shirt... He lifted his hand to his lips and they came back bloody as well. Ryan threw himself up off the desk and ran out the door, the other two at his heels.
He hardly acknowleged the fact that his back did not make it's usual protest to the sprinting as he found the men's room. He ran to the nearest mirror and looked into it.
Only to not see anything looking back.
Drew and Greg ran up beside him. He saw them, but not himself. He opened his mouth a couple times before finding most of his voice.
"What happened to me?" Ryan's voice was hoarse, and the others almost didn't hear him.
Drew looked to his friend's face, which was still staring at the mirror. "There was someone out in the alley. Came up to us. Asked for an autograph. He grabbed you and... And I'm pretty sure he bit you. Aw hell, I *know* he bit you. On your neck..."
Ryan put his hand to the wound. It came back with still more blood. "Can you help clean me off? I'd do it alone but I can't tell were it is." He turned on the tap in front of him. The cold water almost hurt, and he turned on the hot. It heated to unbearable for a person's skin but it felt good to Ryan. Greg grabbed some paper towels and began to wipe off Ryan's face and neck, moving carefully around the wound, as Drew went to Ryan's dressing room to get clean clothes.
Greg accidentally touched the holes and Ryan hissed in pain and suprise. Greg gasped.
"What?" Ryan asked.
"Open your mouth again."
He did. Greg moved a finger down one of Ryan's teeth, which was twice as long as it had originally been, and needle-sharp. It's double on the other side was the same.
"Ryan?"
"Y-yea?"
"I think I know what happened to you."
"Really? I'm dying to find out."
"You're already dead. Ry, I think... I think you're a vampire."
Ryan let out a hollow, barking laugh and Drew returned carrying jeans and a t-shirt. He quickly grabbed them and went into one of the stalls.
=A *vampire*? They don't exist. So how could I be one? But I can't see myself in the mirror... And I'm cold... The neck wounds... Somebody came up and bit me... And no pulse. Now this is just wonderful. Why? Well, he musta been hungry, needed blood. Doesn't sound too bad... What the hell? What am I doing wanting blood? But if I'm a vampire, I'll need it. And stay out of the sun... That's not too bad. I never really liked the sun anyway. What am I gonna do? If I go up and bite someone's neck when I come out I'll purpously walk out in the sun. I don't want to kill anyone. Or change anyone. How would I get blood with out doing that? How long would I last? I wanna go home.=
Ryan opened the door of the stall and Greg was sitting on the edge of the sink, still holding the bloody paper towels. Ryan felt his stomach growl as he looked at the red color. Drew was nowhere to be seen. Greg looked up at him.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm dead, Greg. Whatddya mean am I alright?"
"Sorry." He bowed his head.
"Were's Drew?"
"He's getting his car and he's gonna take you home."
"I can drive."
"Ryan..."
"Alright. Reflex. I hate people trying to baby me."
"Ry, you're dead. Er, un-dead, whatever." He looked back up. "I thought you were gone, man... I mean, not come back gone... I didn't know what to do..."
"Hey," Ryan said softly. He walked to Greg and pulled him into a hug. Greg returned the embrace and sighed. Ryan suddenly became aware that he didn't *need* to breathe.
"You're so... *cold*."
"Well, *you* feel like you have a fever. Relax. I'm not going anywere."
"But I didn't know that. You're one of the best friends I've ever had. I almost passed out when I saw that. Couldn't though. I'd of dropped you." Greg found it ironic that *he* was the one being comforted. And by the person who had just died at that. He pulled away, and didn't meet Ryan's eyes as Drew came back into the bathroom.
"C'mon, Ry. I'm taking you home."
"Okay." He turned to Greg again. "Don't worry. I'm still here. I'll call you tomorrow once I've done a little research." Ryan left. Drew gave Greg a small smile before he followed.
=====================================
Ryan sat in the seat of Drew's car silently. The clouds covered the moon and it was dark, but he could see just fine. Night-vision, almost. But in color, so more like a flashlight. He was still hungry, but he didn't want to think about what he might be hungry for. He wasn't tired, either, but so full of energy that 'figety' was an understatement.
Drew pulled up in Ryan's driveway and killed the engine. "Are you sure you don't want anyone to stay with you for tonight? Cause I will..."
"Drew, I don't want to get into a big, full-blown argument with anybody right now. I have to think on this. If Greg's right, then... Well, I'd rather not think about it."
"Ryan I don't want to leave you alone this way-"
"It's not gonna hurt me if you do! How could I be worse of?"
"I'm just worried! How could I not be? I just watched one of my best friends die right in front of me and then I saw him come back with fangs."
"I'll call you tomorrow. See if I can't find a way to the studio." Ryan shut the door before he could respond.
Drew drove away as Ryan reached the door. He fumbled for his keys a bit before realizing he had left them in the other clothes.
"Damn! First I die and now I can't get into my own house to have a nice, quiet nervous breakdown." He walked around the back of the house to the paitio. The glass sliding door was unlocked. Well, it was *supposed* to be unlocked. Ryan glared at the door as if it was the door's fault this was happening to him. Then he lost it.
Ryan's fist went through the glass as if it was paper. The shards flew everywhere they could. He continiued to hit the door until just the frame was left. It felt good, even with the small pieces embedded in his skin. He vaugely noticed he wasn't bleeding as he walked through the frame, not bothering to turn on the lights.
Funny, he thought. Five minutes ago he could've jogged ten miles. Now, he didn't feel like he could even make it to his bedroom. He did make it though, and fell on the bed without undressing. He pulled a pillow under his head and within moments he was fast asleep.
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It was like watching a movie. Ryan saw himself walking down a crowded street. It was night and the only source of light was the neon signs of various restaraunts. He couldn't hear anything except what seemed like thousands of heartbeats. He watched with growing curiousity as he entered a bar and ordered a beer, laughing at a joke the bartender made with dead, eyes.
After a while, Ryan saw a pretty woman sit down beside him and they started to talk. He didn't know if she recognized him from the shows or what. She was a beautiful woman, with long black hair, wonderful figure and fabulous face. And for some reason, a nice neck.
A nice neck? What's up with that?
They left together, and she rode with him in his car. Ryan knew by now what was going to happen, and he could hear the woman's heartbeat even better than if he was listening through a stethascope. He could not hear his own. Then he remembered he was dead. A v...
His thoughts were cut short and he watched himself lead the girl into his bedroom, kissing her all the while. He moaned in his sleep as he felt and saw everything that came after. And while he was enjoying most of it, and he couldn't escape the pleasure, he hated what he saw next.
Ryan watched himself begin to kiss her neck, making the spot red as he brought blood to the surface. He was on the verge of realease when two fangs punctured her flesh. He felt himself come but the woman was thrashing around beneath him, the look on her face clearly saying 'pain'. But he didn't care and simply held her still as he finished feeding, draining the life out of her. He finally pulled back, and the woman held a horrified look at the blood on his lips.
Ryan heard himself whisper, almost inaudibly, "I'm sorry."
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Ryan quickly sat up in his bed, a loud yell issuing from his throat at what had awakened him. A sick feeling entered his stomach and he padded into the bathroom, hunching over the toilet as his stomach emtied.
He sat with his back to the bathroom wall as he brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't find it in him to cry as the dream repeated itself over and over in his mind. Whatever had made him this way was telling him how to feed, how to survive. But Ryan didn't want to listen. He wasn't going to do that to anyone. But if he wasn't, then he had to come up with an awnser to the hunger he had started feeling again.
Time to do some legwork, he thought.
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Greg paced the living room of his house as he waited for Colin to pick up the phone.
"Hello?" Damn. He had been sleeping.
"Colin?"
"Greg. What what are you doing calling me this late? Hell, what're you doing calling me at all?"
"It's Ryan."
"What happened?"
"He had a little bit of an accident tonight. I can't explain it over the phone. Could you meet me somewhere?"
"Stay put, I'll come over there. Is he alright?"
"I can't figure that out. Maybe. I can't be sure. I'll meet you here."
"Alright. See ya."
Greg hung up the phone and looked down at his clothes. Blood. Ryan's blood. He hadn't changed when he had gotten home. He didn't want to wake Jennifer. It was bad enought waking Colin but he *had* to know. But he couldn't keep them on. He decided to risk it.
He felt like a theif sneeking around in his own bedroom. All he grabbed was some clean clothes and was out of there in less than a minute, making sure not to get anything else red-colored. Greg paused at the door as he watched Jennifer sleep, and thought about Ryan's family. What was this gonna do to them? He knew Pat would love Ryan no matter what, but he couldn't shrug off the feeling that she might leave him. Like he didn't see his family enough as it was.
A knock on his front door caused himself to curse at himself for not changing quickly. Greg breathed deep as he set his hand on the door, knowing it was his concerned Canadian friend.
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