A.N Um… beware… the discussion at the beginning may contain slight adult/sexual references. Because I'm cool like that. XD

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Sixteen: Marches and Manoeuvres

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"Did you at least use protection?" Perri's voice rang out from the couch as I wandered out of the bedroom the next morning. I was still bleary from the night before, so her words took several minutes for me to process as I wondered passed her, towards the counter that served as part of the kitchen. It took me as long as to pour a glass of water to finally compute what she said.

I ended up spluttering my water all over the counter. Putting the glass back down not-so-carefully, I rushed out to her, and almost fell over the top of the couch in my haste.

"What?!" I cried. She peered up at me, a wicked grin on her face. She was stretched out on the comfy, slightly sagging sofa, with a blanket thrown over her and what looked suspiciously like a photo in one hand. In the corner of the room, the television was on, playing what I presumed to be the news. Everything was in German, so I couldn't understand a word being said.

"You heard what I said, Steve," Perri said cheerfully. I gaped at her.

"How did you know?!" I said – okay, it was more of a groan, but you get the point.

"First-timers are always one of two things: completely silent or just plain loud." She informed me, sitting up and rubbing the back of her head, messing her short hair up even more than it already was. Her wicked little grin spread further, until it was a big wicked grin. "You two were of the latter."

As I gaped at the diminutive hunter, she stood up, placing the photo facedown onto the couch and arching her spine backwards, like a cat. She closed her eyes as her back cracked, as if savouring the satisfying sound of popping bones. Then she looked back at me, serious.

"I'm only telling you as a warning, Steve," she said, all her humour from minutes ago gone. "If you don't use protection, Annie could become pregnant. And though there are other options, women tend to grow attached to the thing growing in their stomachs and don't want to give it up. And so she'd have to take care of the baby – and this life is not one for a kid. But then she couldn't just drop out of this life just to raise the kid, either – once the night has you, it holds onto you forever."

Perri shrugged, and walked to the bathroom. She stood in the doorway, pausing for a second. Then she turned around again.

"Just think on it, Steve. Okay?"

I nodded mutely. She nodded in reply, then disappeared into the bathroom, the door closing quietly behind her. Moments later, I heard the hiss of the shower running, softly merging with the low hum of the television.

I stayed where I was for several moments, the conversation I had just had with Perri running through my head a few times over. Then, with a jolt, I realised something –

I had just gotten a lecture!

I pulled a face. Then I slid onto the couch, sprawling over it as I had done in the past and pulling my hands behind my head. A small, content smile found its way to my features.

Perri's voice was gone, instead replaced by the events of last night… specifically, late last night…

I closed my eyes, feeling oh so content.

Only to find, to my irritation, that something was digging into my back slightly.

With a slight huff, I shifted my weight a little and reached down to fish out whatever the annoyance was. My fingers touched smooth paper – of course!

Quickly, I pulled out the photo. It was facing the white underside. There was something, a caption, written in Perri's spidery print:

Toby and me at school.

Followed by the date. It was dated some eleven years ago, when Perri was seventeen. For some reason, the name Toby rang a bell, but I couldn't remember exactly why. It floated at the edge of my memory, elusively avoiding capture as I tried to figure out why the name nagged me so.

Slowly, I turned the photo over.

It was taken on a bright, summery day. In the background was what looked like a metal classroom – a demountable – as well as a large, barky tree that I recognised to be a eucalypt. There was also a row of low, green wooden seats, covered by a few bags and students who were not meant to be part of the photo.

In the middle, though, was what was most interesting.

They both wore school uniforms, white button-up shirts, red ties, grey skirt for her and grey slacks for him. The girl was taller, her hair short, dark blonde, fringe held back by clips and slightly sunburnt face clear, open, and happy. There was a cheeky grin on her face as she did the universal 'V' sign behind the head of the boy who stood in front of her.

With a start, I realised that this cheerful, smiling blonde girl with a clear face was Perri. An untattooed, un-hair-dyed, non-depressed Perri. An innocent Perri.

The boy in front of her was several years younger, his cap pulled backwards over his slightly curly light brown hair and a small, empty-looking bag slung over his shoulders. He was looking away from the photo, a small smile on his face, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes… his eyes were saddened. As if he was struck by some great tragedy.

Or felt that tragedy would be coming soon.

And then it clicked. I remembered who Toby was. She had told me, back when I was in hospital with the cold. When she said I reminded her of someone.

He was her boyfriend's little brother. The boy she had 'adopted'.

Toby was her little brother.

And by the looks of things…

Toby was lost to her.

I was still staring at the photo when Perri came out of the shower several minutes later, towelling her hair dry. She saw me looking at the photo, and raised an eyebrow questioningly. I went to open my mouth to say something, anything, but she beat me to it, with a small, sad smile. Her eyes were strangely bright, as if she were about to cry.

"That was Toby, as you can see. He was the brightest, funniest little kid I've ever met. He…"

But she couldn't finish her sentence, her throat catching. She open and closed her mouth, as if trying to say something, but she could form no words. Finally, her shoulders sagged. And with that, she turned on her heel and entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

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Perri didn't come out of the bedroom the rest of the day. When Annie came out, I asked how our mentor was – Annie just shrugged, saying something vague about 'she doesn't want to be disturbed…'

We had a shower together that morning, washing each other and kissing enough for us to be out of breath by the time we got out. We didn't go any further, however – Perri's lecture still rang in my ears, so when Annie asked if we could, I said no. She looked hurt, so I explained why. She simply blushed, having completely forgotten all about that.

In order to leave Perri alone, we left the hotel room and walked down to the nearby park, where I began teaching Annie some fighting moves. She was a fast learner, so I soon began progressing to slightly more advanced techniques – throws, hooks, sweeps, dodging and blocking armed attacks. These were all things that had saved my life in the past – I'm sure they would do the same for her in the future. I wished she wouldn't have to go through that, but I knew she would.

Where I was built for power, Annie was built for speed and agility – by the time we progressed to sparring matches, she was able to throw at least seven punches to my two. I still managed to overpower her though, and it was more than once that we were sent rolling through the grass thanks to my over-zealous sweeps.

Eventually, Annie's German friends appeared with a football in tow, and we ended up playing soccer all afternoon. No matter what team she was on, Annie's side always managed to win. We then did something different: nine on one. All of us against Annie. We were winning. By one point.

She was just about to score another when mothers came out looking for their children, and soon we were left by ourselves once more.

Annie and I ended up wandering around the town, with no destination in mind. We just walked and talked, talked and walked, even after the sunset and snowflakes started to fall gently from the sky, blanketing the world in a layer of soft whiteness, we continued to just walk and talk.

Annie laughed, running out into the middle of the small street and twirling in a little circle, her arms outstretched as she stared up at the sky.

"Look, Steve!" She cried, like a little child. "Look!"

She stopped her twirling and stuck out her tongue, catching a tiny snowflake on its tip. She giggled as she swallowed it.

"It's cold!" She laughed.

Stepping onto the road with her, I stretched out my gloved right hand, palm facing up. Two or three snowflakes landed there – but as soon as they did, they melted away, becoming a tiny puddle of water in my hand.

"It makes you think, doesn't it," I mused aloud. "It makes you think just how fragile the world is." I closed my fist.

"Steve?" Annie asked.

"Hmm?" I looked up, and to my surprise, she was right in front of me, grinning happily. Snow was piling up on her hair, giving her a little white crown.

"Shut up," she said – and with that, she reached up and kissed me. When she finally stepped back, I grinned at her.

"I could get used to that," I said. She punched me on my arm sharply.

"You'd better learn how to kiss better first!" She cried. I gaped at her.

"What, I'm not a good kisser?"

"Hell no! I've kissed much better than you!"

"Wha – wait, I wasn't your first kiss?!"

"How else do you think I got so good at it?"

"But… who the hell else have you kissed?!"

Annie just laughed at me, and began running down the street.

"That's for me to know, Steve!" She cried over her shoulder.

"Hey – wait!" I cried after her – and so we raced each other back to the hotel, laughing and throwing small snowballs at each other.

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"Don't bother taking your coats off," Perri's voice called from the kitchenette as soon as Annie and I stepped back into our rooms. "We're going out again."

"Where are we going?" Annie asked as Perri stepped out from behind the counter, pulling on her own jacket. She grinned that all too crazy cat-grin of hers.

"If you do recall, I was forced to leave all my weapons back in Ireland. We are simply going somewhere to… restock." She headed towards the door, picking up her canvas backpack from its usual spot on the couch as she went.

"Restock? But it's snowing outside, if you hadn't noticed! And snow usually means cold. You don't want me to get sick again, do you, Perri?" I asked her. She looked at me sideways and rolled her eyes.

"It's not that far away. And you're a strong, healthy boy – you'll live."

And so back outside we went, following Perri's short, black-blue-silver head as she made her way through the town, oblivious to the snow that was falling around her. Annie and I walked several feet behind her, our hands brushing.

There was no one else on the roads as we walked, except for the occasional car, leaving the world in a white peaceful quiet, making it seem almost like Christmas. It was with a jolt that I remembered that it was almost Christmas.

I'll have to get a job. Just to buy presents.Mentally, I pulled a face.

I didn't really pay attention to how long we walked for. It was quite a long time, though, because I was getting almost uncomfortably warm in my coat, beanie and scarf by the time Perri brought us down an alley behind a random, abandoned-looking car repair garage.

Without hesitating, she stepped up to a metal door and knocked loudly on it three times.

There was no answer.

She waited several moments, then knocked again.

Once more, there was no answer.

Perri raised her hand, about to knock one more time, when a slot in the door opened.

"Wer ist es?" A male voice asked.

Annie and I exchanged glances.

"Why does this remind me of a corny spy movie?" Annie whispered to me.

"Es ist ich, Peregrine Walters." Perri answered.

"A very corny spy movie," Annie whispered.

"Eine Sekunde, bitte," the voice said. There was a moment of silence. And then the door swung open with a loud screech, revealing darkness. "Kommen Sie herein."

Perri looked back at us, grinning slightly.

"Come on, what are you two afraid of?" She asked, and stepped into the darkness beyond the door.

"Afraid of minions randomly appearing out of nowhere intent on killing us in a bloody ambush," I grumbled miserably, and as one, we followed her.

As soon as we stepped into the room, the door swung shut behind us, and the room was swamped with sudden light. We were standing in a small hall of some kind, all metal and rust. Perri was nowhere in sight. Standing behind the door, next to the light switch, was a grinning young man who looked vaguely familiar…

"Hey, aren't you the baker from the other day?" Annie asked. The man smiled cheerfully.

"Ja, I am Christoph," he said cheerfully in his horribly accented English. "Apprentice baker by day, apprentice weapon smith by night. Please, follow me. Ms. Walters has already gone through."

Quietly, he slipped past us and walked down the, opening a door. He poked his head through. A blast of loud music wafted through the crack.

"Kurt, Ms. Walters has some guests as well," he called. We couldn't hear the reply, thanks to the music, but Christoph turned around and gestured for us to follow him. And so we did.

When we stepped through the doorway, we found ourselves in a cramped garage, several tables set under low lights. These metal tables were covered in weapons of all shapes and sizes, some of them completely finished, others in the process of being made. Scattered around the room among shelves, workbenches and other tables were tools and bit and pieces– along the walls, hanging on hooks, were complete items, all of them beautifully made.

In one corner, a large computer system was set up, heavy trance music blaring from its speakers. In front of the computer, seated on a low computer chair, was a chubby man in grubby clothes, a scope-like item over one eye as he held an unfinished weapon in his hand. Perri stood next to him, arms crossed.

The man at the computer stood up, placing the weapon he was working on onto the desk, and walked forward, a hand outstretched. Christoph, meanwhile, snuck off, picking up what looked like a firearm at a distant table, and began to tinker with it.

"Hello there!" The chubby man shouted cheerfully over the music. I shook his hand. "I am Kurt Wagner – no, not the famous mutant – weapon smith extraordinaire!" He turned and shook Annie's hand next. I think he had bad hearing – everything about him was loud.

Kurt turned to Perri.

"So, what were you looking for, my good friend?!" He called over the music. She shot a dark glance at the speakers, then pulled a face at Kurt.

"Couldn't you turn the music down, Wagner?!" She cried. His eyes widened, as if shocked.

"What?! Turn down Aura, the Source of Trance?! You speak blasphemous words, Peregrine Walters!" He cried, but he obliged, turning down the music so that it was only a low hum in the background. He turned back to Perri, rubbing his hands together. "Now. What were you looking for again?"

"The usual, Kurt, though I wouldn't mind two extra bowcasters," she said, placing her bag onto a table she was standing next to. "As well as close-range weapons that these two can use." She flicked her head in our direction.

Kurt turned towards us, studying us carefully.

"Hrmm. She looks like she has a lot of speed to her, but not a great deal of strength. So we all know what that means!"

"Actually, I don't know what that means," Annie said blankly. He smiled at her.

"Obviously, you are not a video game player. The fast and speedy types always get the daggers." Then this curious little man turned to me, hands on hips. He rubbed his nose as if in thought. "Him, however… he is a tricky one. He could be good with a sword, a good pair of knuckles or claws, even an axe – but he looks strong in both arms. He could probably use two weapons at the same time."

Kurt paused, making a small rumbling sound. Then he looked around his room, a frown on his ruddy face.

"Where did I put it…?"

We watched as he slowly waddled through the garage, peeking under tools and up into shelves. Finally, when he had disappeared from view behind a particularly full shelf, he found what he was looking for.

"Aha!" His voice sailed out to us. He emerged several minutes later, in one hand holding up what looked like a short sword, held in a sheath. In his other hand he had several daggers, all of them held in a pair of old fashioned bracers. "These are for you," he said, tossing the daggers over to Annie. She caught them deftly, her eyes wide. "And this, my friend, is for you."

Kurt came to a stop before me, holding out the sword. Gently, I lifted it from his grip, and pulled the sword from its sheath with a loud, cliché hiss. Holding it in my right hand, I hefted the blade, studying its curious shape – one edge was serrated, jagged and dangerous looking. I gaped.

"I suggest you learn how to use these weapons before you run headfirst into a fight, though," Kurt said, sniffing. He glanced at Annie. "They go around your wrists. If you have the ties loose, the daggers fall out easily, giving you easy access. You should probably practice throwing knives, by the way."

Soon, we had a large amount of weapons between the three of us – Kurt had given Annie additional daggers, all to put in various places, while I myself received a long hunting knife. Perri was given another pair of axes. Kurt also supplied us with three 'bowcasters' (which I later found out was Star Wars talk for 'crossbows') and a large supply of bolts.

Finally, he stepped back to survey his work.

"Wow. You look like you're about to go to war," he said with a whistle. He cocked his head to the side, his expression innocently curious. "Still looking for him, are ya, Perri?"

"Indeed I am." She said shortly. She began heading towards the door, her canvas bag now filled to the brim. "You know where to bill it to."

And with that, she had stepped through the door and was gone.

Kurt chuckled.

"Now there goes a woman who has permanent PMS."

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Annie and I had another shower together that night. Even though I had been lectured about it that morning, we couldn't help it – I finally succumbed to Annie and her pestering ('petting'), and we were at it again, however awkward it was in the shower.

When we were done, we stood together, allowing the warm shower water to run down over our bare bodies. Annie rested her head against my chest, allowing me to wrap my arms around her.

"Steve…?" She said quietly. I looked down at her in answer. "I…I'm scared."

Gently, she pushed herself off of me, her blue-green eyes huge in her small face. They were filled with terror.

"Why? Annie, what's wrong?" I asked. She shook her head.

"I… I don't know what's wrong. But, I, I've got this, I don't know, feeling, and it won't go away," she said softly, looking down. I placed my hand under her chin and gently lifted her face, so that I could see her.

"Tell me, Annie."

"It's… Well… I don't…" She stopped, biting her lip. Then finally she said it. "Something bad. Something bad is going to happen. Something very bad. I can feel it."

Her eyes went wide again.

"I'm so scared, Steve."

The terror in her eyes made me feel terrified too, though I had no idea why. At a loss, I wrapped her in my arms, holding her close to me.

"It's all right, Annie," I told her, stroking her wet hair. "It's all right. I'm here. I'll always be here."

She said something, something so soft that I almost couldn't hear it under the hiss of the running water.

"But that's it, Steve. You won't be here."

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By the time we finished our shower, Perri was standing at the doorway, her hand on the doorknob. I could tell by the bulkiness of her coat that she was armed to the teeth.

Almost sheepishly, she stepped back from the door, and grinned. But it wasn't a true Perri grin. It was shaky. It was unsure.

It was scared.

Great. Not her too.

"Hey, I thought I talked to you about that this morning," she said softly. I noted that her voice cracked slightly.

"Where are you planning on going?" Annie asked. She had also noticed Perri's weapons and uneasy manner. Perri shrugged.

"I'm just… going out for a walk."

"What, wearing your crossbow and axes? Somehow, I don't think you're just going on a walk," Annie retorted. I looked down at her, surprised by her sudden anger. Perri looked away, as if unable to look at us straight.

"You're going to find the vampaneze, aren't you?" I said softly. She looked up at me through her eyelashes. I could see her eyes were teary for the second time today. Mutely, she nodded.

"Well, wait there. I'm coming with you," I said promptly, and started towards the bedroom in order to get my clothes.

"No."

I stopped and turned. Perri was still standing in the same spot, her hands clenched.

"You can't come with me, Steve. This is my fight."

Her whole body was shaking.

"I don't care if this is your fight, Peregrine, I am going with you," I said, gritting my teeth. "It's suicidal to go by yourself."

"Maybe that's why I'm doing it then," she said softly.

"Look," Annie piped up, putting her hands on her hips. "If Steve's going, then so am I."

"No!" Perri and I said at the same time. Annie blinked.

"Why the hell not?!"

"Because you can't fight anywhere near as well as Perri and me," I growled. "And plus, I don't want you to get hurt."

At the door still, Perri sighed heavily.

"Look, I'm going by myself, and that's final. Don't come looking for me. Don't follow me. And…" She opened the door, stepping out into the hall. She didn't turn back. "Goodbye."

And with that, Perri closed the door and was gone. There was a click as the lock turned.

Annie and I stared at the door. I swore briefly, then turned around to punch the doorframe several times. Seconds later, my aggression released, I slipped down and sat on the floor, shifting so that my back was against the wall.

Annie remained where she was, hugging herself slightly. Then she quickly threw her dirty clothes back on, grabbed her many daggers and crossbow, and made for the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked from my spot on the ground. She paused, her hand on the doorknob.

"I'm going to follow her. I won't let her fight those vamps by herself."

I sighed, dropping my head. Then I stood up slowly, reaching for my own clothes and weapons.

"Wait for me. I'm coming too."

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A.N Bleh. I do not like this chapter, Sam I am. I do not like it, I do not like green eggs and ham.

-pulls a face-

However… the fun stuff happens after this! Mwuahahaha!

And by the by, I leave on an airplane to the Philippines next Monday, so I don't think I'll be able to get the next chappy up by then. Ehehehehe. Oh well. The Kurda fic will be updated every day. Hehe. Tis fun. Yaoi-yummy-ness. XD

Scarlet Black: I know! We need more Kurda! Damn you, Darren! EVIL PERSON! –growls-

Die Kikyo Die: Hehe, if you haven't already checked your e-mail, do so. I sent you the answer. Also, some others have been kind enough to supply the answer in their reviews. XD Aren't they lovely people?

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Next Chapter:

Seventeen: Susan's House

There was a hiss of movement as the vampaneze's hand flashed past my cheek – I winced as his nails cut deep through my flesh, drawing blood.

I jumped back, raising my sword and rattling my length of chain as a warning, muscles tensed, ready for the vamp's next attack.

But he didn't attack.

The vampaneze was looking at his hand, almost in wonder. Then he slowly lifted it, his tongue flickering out of his mouth. And then I realised: he was tasting the blood on his hands. My blood.

"Your blood," he said softly in his German accented voice, closing his eyes as he licked his hand again. It was almost as if he enjoyed the taste. "It is so… good. So tainted. So evil."