Another one that qualifies for the "Warning - will want to throw things at monitor" label. Our Hunter, while tough when facing outer demons, is not so tough when facing his inner demons...

Van Helsing had fled the house with no actual destination in mind. Realizing he was hungry, he decided to grab something to eat before figuring what to do next. He found a not too frilly restaurant and ordered food. Then he stared out the window and tried to decide what to do next. The problem was that no matter how he tried to make plans, he found his mind circling around to Carl. How good it had felt to touch him, to be deep with in him. And even more, how good it had felt to hold him and wake up to find Carl curled up beside him.

It had been a long time since Van Helsing had spent the night with anyone. His encounters had always been of the casual variety and he had quickly learned that it was better to leave then to face the awkwardness of the morning after. But last night it had never crossed his mind to leave and now he was wishing he had because if he had left, he would not be fighting the battle he was fighting now.

Part of him wanted nothing more then to drive back home, find Carl and carry him back off to bed and keep him there indefinitely. To satisfy him so completely that he would never once think about another person. That Carl had been disappointed that he left this morning only fueled this desire. But if he went back now, he'd never be able to keep Carl out. And he just couldn't risk getting any more attached then he already was. Last night when he thought that gargoyle was going to get Carl, Van Helsing had felt like a knife had been plunged in his gut. It was only years of training that had kept him going.

And now Carl had an even bigger hold over him. How long until he made it all the way in?

Van Helsing slumped lower in his chair. Long ago he had decided that love was a trap, that it gave people a weapon to use against you. He had given it up as a bad deal long ago. But along comes Carl who didn't play by any set of rules that Van Helsing had ever encountered and suddenly he found himself falling hard and fast for a man he had no business even being around. And as much as he wanted to fight it, he wasn't sure this was one he could win.

The waitress brought over his food and smiled at him sympathetically. "Sweetheart, you look like you've got heart trouble. What's the matter? Girl giving you a hard time?"

Van Helsing gave her a thin smile and said "Not exactly"

The waitress, a motherly type said "Well, who ever she is, you've clearly got it bad for her. So have you told her how you feel?"

Van Helsing tried to glare at her but the waitress just ignored it. Finally he growled "No. And I don't intend to. Now if you are quite through grilling me, I'd like to eat my breakfast."

The waitress frowned and said "Excuse me, I was just trying to be nice. Its clear you are pretty upset but if you don't want to talk about it, I'll just leave you alone." And with that she sailed away.

Van Helsing watched her retreating back and then growled in frustration. Just tell her how you feel, she says. Like that makes it all better. Wonder if she'd give the same advice if she knew it was a man they were talking about. He looked over at her and realized that she probably would. She looked like the romantic type.

What would he tell Carl anyway? Hey Carl, I know this will probably horrify you but the mongrel you took in has developed feelings for you. I know I'm not exactly what your folks would pick but hey, what does that matter?

He threw down his fork in frustration. This was crazy. He couldn't possibly tell Carl how he felt. Carl was a nice guy; he'd feel terrible about it and try to let him down gently. Which would only make Van Helsing feel even more pathetic then he already did.

Having suddenly lost his appetite, he threw down some cash on the table and left the restaurant. Walking to the car he thought about leaving. Telling Carl that the partnership wasn't working for him and heading back to his former life. Save himself the pain. Only the more the thought about leaving, the more it hurt.

Without thinking, he drove himself to his apartment. Letting himself in, he threw his keys on the table and sank down in a chair. Looking around, he tried to make himself feel like he was home but try as he might, he just couldn't. As much as he hated it to admit, home was now a mausoleum of a house and a geeky blonde genius.

Van Helsing sank his head into his hands. How had it come to this? He had always been so careful to protect himself. Never let anyone close. But then he met Carl and in letting the man patch him up, Carl had slipped through his defenses. And now tantalizingly before him was warmth and a person he could trust. Of Carl's loyalty there was no doubt. What was not so certain was his heart.

Van Helsing snorted bitterly. Carl could have anyone he wanted. Why would he settle for someone as battered and scarred as Van Helsing? What did he have to offer for all of Carl's loyalty and care? And could he bring himself to risk himself like this? If Carl was to turn him away, could he take that?

Can you take walking away and always having to wonder if he would have chosen you if you gave him the chance?

That he couldn't immediately say yes shook his already shaky foundation.

He let out a cry of frustration. All of this was driving him mad. Deciding he needed a break from thinking, he got up from his chair and headed to the door. He'd go see a movie – something suitably bloody and violent. Then he'd head home and find out if last night was the start of something… or the end of everything.

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