What a Difference a Day Makes

It's amazing what a difference a day can make. Yesterday, I had to watch a vampire couple be executed for threatening to betray the vamp community – a mortal sin among our kind. That kind of thing stays with you.

I didn't think things could get any worse – until I went to see Beth…

She accusingly labeled what happened as 'vampires dispensing vampire justice'. She wasn't wrong, but I couldn't find a way to help her understand – the only thing we vamps have going for us is secrecy. Without it…. we're an extinct species.

It was too much for her to accept. I thought it was the end for us – she sent me away, told me "I don't think I can do this anymore." She was right when she said that I couldn't come back to her world– as badly as I want to – and she isn't ready to join mine.

Her concern is that, someday, I will want to turn her – or that maybe she will want it when she starts to get old. Too often, humans are hooked on what will be tomorrow, when they should be looking at what is today. Who can say what the future holds? I just want to enjoy the present.

My heart almost stopped when she sent me away. I've never felt despair like that, not even when I first realized that Coraline had turned me into a vampire on our wedding night.

I did what she asked – I left. I got a few steps from her door and… I just couldn't go any further. When the door to her apartment closed, I felt like I'd been punched in the gut and all the air in my lungs was just – gone. But I realized that I couldn't shut the door on Beth – on us – without one last try at reaching her. Thank God I did!

Somehow, what I said made sense to her. When she stepped into my arms, I don't think I've ever been so happy – from the depths of despair to being over the moon in a few brief moments. Last night, our first night together, was everything I had ever dreamed about – and more. It was what I'd been longing for through all the lonely years.

How does an immortal handle mortal feelings? I guess I'll learn as I go. Last night I felt the love, warmth and excitement that I thought only humans could feel.

Just to lie in Beth's bed and hold her, to feel the beating of her heart made me forget what I am. I felt human again.

I know, I know. I'm the one who said vampire/human relationships are "difficult, dangerous and complicated."

Yeah, I also said it always ends badly, but hey, what would I know? I haven't been in a relationship with a human since I was turned! After last night, I'm glad I didn't take my own advice. There is nothing in the world that can wipe the smile off my face today. Well nothing, that is, until a very paranoid Josef calls my cell phone, demanding my presence. No matter what it is that Josef wants, he can't spoil this day for me….

Intro: "Trouble" by Pink

Mick St. John floored the accelerator, the wind – and the sudden rain – blowing through the open window. It was mudslide season in California and despite his having lived in Los Angeles his whole life, he was often surprised by the rapidly moving storm fronts that blew through. Right now, he didn't mind; on this day, everything felt exhilarating.

Screeching to a halt in front of Josef Kostan's palatial home high in the Hollywood Hills, Mick jumped out of his vintage Mercedes and raced through the driving rain to the front door. Stepping inside, he shook the water from his long, flowing black overcoat and out of his thick, wavy hair. Even vamps weren't quite fast enough to run between raindrops. Briefly considering the expansive home as he strode through it, he wondered, not for the first time, just how wealthy his friend really was.

Entering Josef's elaborate, high–tech office, he found his best friend and mentor uncharacteristically alone. The billionaire hedge-fund trader was usually surrounded by minions and flunkies, ready to do his bidding, but at this moment, he was the office's only occupant. Kostan was pacing back and forth in front of the floor–to–ceiling windows behind his desk, clearly agitated, running his hand through his short, auburn hair. Despite the length of time the vampire had walked the earth, he looked like a 20–something 'master of the universe' - exactly the image he wanted to convey.

Nothing could be further from the truth though. Josef was more than his best friend; he was also one of the oldest vamps in L.A. and the defacto head of the local vampire community.

Clad in an impeccably tailored Armani suit, the coat slung carelessly over the back of his dark leather desk chair, Kostan paused and glared at Mick as he walked into the office and plopped into one of the handsome matching seats positioned in front of the desk.

"Good morning, Josef." Mick smiled broadly at his friend as the rain pounded on the windows behind him.

"What are you so happy about?" Josef snapped at his friend, dropping heavily into his desk chair. "And please get that ratty, wet coat off my furniture!"

Mick cocked one eyebrow. "I guess I could ask what you are so unhappy about?"

He stood to remove his wet coat, retrieving his phone from the pocket before tossing the offending item on the bar counter in the corner. Switching his phone to 'silent', he slid it into his pocket – Josef was obviously in no mood to be interrupted by anything in his universe this morning.

"So! What's on your mind, Josef?" Mick sat back down in the chair and made himself comfortable. This was going to be a long discussion…

Josef snorted. "It must have been my imagination. I thought my friend, Mick St. John, witnessed the same fiasco that I did last night!"

"Calm down. It wasn't a fiasco! Everything ended up okay."

Almost knocking over his chair in his haste to get up, the older vampire bellowed, "Okay? You think things went okay?!" He leaned over the expensive ebony–and–glass desk to toss the newspaper he was holding into Mick's lap.

"We'll be lucky if every vampire in L.A. doesn't come down on us over this! It was a disaster! Look at those headlines!" Josef loosened his tie as if it were suddenly choking him and gestured at the newspaper in Mick's hand.

Josef may be 400 years old, but for such a powerful vamp, he's the most paranoid guy I know.

The first thing that met his eye was the glaring headline "MURDER SUSPECT DISAPPEARS; Officer killed in suspicious wreck".

Shaking his head and running his free hand through his still–damp curls, Mick opened the newspaper. Maybe I'm wrong – maybe Josef can spoil my day.

Beth Turner made the final approach to her parking garage, silently giving thanks that her stop-and-go morning commute to the District Attorney's office was almost over. The congested rush hour traffic typical of the downtown Los Angeles area made her miss the relatively easy drive to BuzzWire. Heavy showers had made the drive exceptionally bad.

Tiredly, Beth swiped her parking pass which allowed her access to the employee spaces. She'd barely had time to shower and dress this morning. Oh, and do you really care? She smiled broadly to herself. The time she'd shared with Mick more than made up for the indignity of showing up for work with a ponytail.

She could still feel their final goodbye kiss, the strength and firmness of his lean body pressed against hers in that last hug before they headed to their respective destinations. Beth gave a quick sigh, both at the warm memory and in preparation for the unpleasant day that lay ahead.

Almost as an afterthought, she took her cell phone from its dash holder and pressed the talk button. First one ring, then two, three…

Mick St. John's voicemail greeting finally engaged.

"Mick's not answering his phone…that can't be a good sign," Beth mumbled, then started speaking. "Hey, it's me. I'm about to go into the office. If I hear anything interesting, I'll call you as soon as I can." She paused for a moment. "Love you, bye." Her mouth twitched slightly. She was still getting used to saying that to him out loud.

Ending her call, she grabbed her things and headed toward her office, steeling herself as best she could as she walked. The time had come to deal with her firestorm. She couldn't help but wonder how Mick was handling his.

"Josef, you're overreacting again!" Mick tried in vain to calm his friend. "This story is headline news because a suspected murderer got away and a cop died, not because a vampire escaped. There is nothing in here that's damaging to us." He tossed the paper back on Kostan's desk.

Josef shook his head. "Yeah, I know - the headline doesn't read 'Vampires Kill in L.A.' But this is way too much publicity for something we were involved in, Mick – way too much. It's a very high–profile case now – the kind of case that will invite more scrutiny. Scrutiny I don't have to tell you we don't need! I'll bet you a pint that the authorities are all over this while we're sitting here, arguing about it!"

"No, we don't know how Monaghan escaped – "

Those were the first words Beth heard as she stepped off the elevator.

"Great, just what I was afraid of!" she groaned to herself as she rounded the corner to her desk. Beth knew now that the morning's emergency was due to the Monaghan case, exactly what she didn't want to hear.

Emma Monaghan had been a sports attorney, representing a number of high–profile athletes. She was arrested after it appeared that she had inexplicably killed one of her most famous clients. Inexplicable, that is, unless you knew that Emma was a vampire.

Terrified that she would be imprisoned, Emma had threatened to expose the entire L.A. vamp community unless they helped her. Mick had orchestrated a breakout to get Emma away from humans. But not to rescue her. Threatening to expose the vamp community was high treason – punishable by death. Emma was executed by the Cleaners, vampires whose job it was to clean up - literally and figuratively - vampire messes in their dealings with humans. Emma was burned to death, along with her vampire husband, Jackson, who decided he didn't want to live without her and voluntarily shared her fate.

For both Mick and Beth, it had been an incredibly difficult experience.

The private investigator felt partially responsible for their deaths, since he was the one who had reported Emma's threats to expose them all. For her part, Beth had met and talked with both of them and was drawn to Emma's warmth, and the depth of the love the couple had for each other after 150 years together. Learning that they had both been executed was as frightening as it was shocking. Here was someone who had everything to lose by giving in to the cravings of a vampire, and knew what the cost could be. Yet she was unable to resist. What did that say about their nature?

Willing herself back to the present, the civilian investigator walked cautiously to her desk to get her work started. Glancing into her boss's office, she could guess that the day was not going to go well for either of them. Judging from the sound and pitch of his voice – and confirmed by his pained expression, rolled–up shirt sleeves and pacing – it seemed clear that Assistant District Attorney Ben Talbot was getting reamed by the higher–ups. That undoubtedly meant the full brunt of the resultant scatological matter would be rolling downhill to hit her at any moment.

"Fan meet crap. Crap, say hello to fan," Beth muttered under her breath as she dumped her belongings on her battered desk, hoping for at least a few seconds of sanity before…

Talbot made eye contact with her through his door and waved her in.

Grabbing her notepad, Beth hurried into ADA Talbot's office, remaining silent while he continued his call. She listened intently as she took a seat in front of his desk.

"…yes, we're already mobilizing a full investigation. Lieutenant Davis is going to USC Medical Center to interview the surviving officer. We're pulling cell phone LUDs, checking for bank and credit card activity, and monitoring LAX, Amtrak and Greyhound passenger information."

Ben nodded as he listened to the caller, impatiently rolling his hand in the air in a "wrap–it–up–please" gesture. "We're on top of it. The detectives and CSI team did their search of the Monaghan residence earlier this morning. My investigator will follow up there just to make sure nothing was overlooked. Okay... okay, I'll call you back after the press conference with an update."

Talbot abruptly hung up the phone and turned his full attention to his new assistant. He ran his hand through his close–cropped brown hair and blew out a breath to release some of his pent–up tension. Sitting down on the corner of his desk facing Beth, his handsome face intent, he launched in, "Sorry to call you so early, but you understand the seriousness of this situation."

She swallowed as she nodded. You have no idea!

Mick knew Josef had a temper, as evidenced by the ever–rising body count in the La Brea tar pits, but this screed was shaping up as one for the record books.

"It's probably only a matter of time before all these on–line news wanna–bees pick up this story and run with it. If your girlfriend, Beth," – Josef's lip curled slightly at the name – "were still at BuzzWire, she'd be all over this too!"

"Josef, first of all, you know Beth's not at BuzzWire anymore," Mick responded testily. "Secondly, we went over all this last night. We sent The Cleaners to the Monaghans' house right after the…execution." He paused for a moment as the horrific images of the couple's deaths played across his mind. Taking a deep breath, the P.I. continued, "They cleared out anything vamp–related and they staged it so that it would look like Emma and Jackson fled. The D.A.'s office will end up on a wild goose chase, trying to track them down before they get out of the country."

"If this plan is so perfect, then why don't the papers mention that they've left the country?" Josef growled

"JOSEF, STOP!" Mick shouted, exasperated. "This just happened last night! The papers don't have that information yet! Before I left here last night, I called Logan and Ryder and told them exactly what needed to happen. I put them to work creating a fake electronic trail that will lead any investigators straight to Chile. Hell, with Ryder already in South America, I've even got him planting physical evidence in a hotel there – in Los Angeles, Chile, to be exact. I thought you would appreciate that irony." Mick added, hoping to lighten the mood.

"I would appreciate not having our security rely on that idiot, Logan!"

"You're being unfair. Logan may act like an idiot once in a while – "

Like when he insisted on being called Lando Calrissian on the Monaghan operation. Thanks, Logan.

"OK, OK, most of the time," Mick amended, catching Josef's glare. "But he knows when he needs to take things seriously. And, believe me, he gets that this is one of those times. He's come through for Beth and me on investigations when we've needed him. He and Ryder will come through for us on this one."

"Speaking of Beth," Josef almost snarled her name, leaning over the desk again at Mick to emphasize his point, "if you really wanted me to relax, you would have come back here last night – like you said you would – instead of disappearing…"

Pausing suddenly, the elder vampire sniffed the air, his foul mood finally changing. Breaking into a huge grin, he snickered, "Oh, so that's it!"

"What's it?" Mick shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"I'm getting a whiff of..." here, Josef paused dramatically, twirling his hand beneath his nose as if smelling a particularly aromatic perfume, "…Eau de Beth." A wicked grin crossed his boyish features. "Did you FINALLY tap that?"

Oh, man! Clearly just showering this morning wasn't enough to put Josef off the scent...

"NO – Josef!" Mick exclaimed, irritated by Kostan's choice of words. "I did not 'tap that' as you so delicately put it. I told Beth that I love her, and she… and we…" At a loss for words, he floundered.

"Finally did something about it," Josef finished for him with uncharacteristic gentleness, sinking down into his chair, his mood softening. "I'm happy for you, Mick. I'm happy for both of you – I really am. You deserve it." Josef's usual cynical attitude was completely missing from these statements.

Mick was touched by his friend's sincerity.

I forget that Josef had also once loved a human just as much as I love Beth. Hearing about Beth and me had to bring back those memories. Unfortunately, Josef's love affair with a human hadn't turned out well…

After falling in love in New York during the 1950s, 21–year–old Sarah Whitley had insisted that Josef 'turn' her so that they could be together forever. Josef was so in love that he had set aside his reservations and tried to comply with her wishes. Unfortunately, something had gone wrong and she had never re–awakened – yet she never aged. Josef had described it to Mick and Beth as being 'caught in–between'.

Ever since that time, he had arranged for her care in New York. As he told them, he couldn't bring himself to let her go, always holding out hope that one day she might awaken. He had suffered from guilt and loneliness over Sarah ever since, never again attempting to 'turn' a human woman.

"I wasn't sure you had it in you," Josef couldn't resist adding, quickly regaining his composure, and with it, his usual sarcasm. "I get that you were distracted last night – that's fine, everyone needs a hobby, but you need to save your 'hobby' for your spare time."

Mick refused to back down, knowing he was provoking Josef, but not caring." Look, Josef, I'm sorry if your feelings were hurt that I didn't keep our 'date', but everything was taken care of before I left!"

"You sure about that, Mick?" Josef asked in a deadly quiet voice, emphasizing his friend's name.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure about that, Josef." Mick responded, deliberately placing the same emphasis on Kostan's name. "You know how good The Cleaners are at their job. How many times have they taken care of scenes that could potentially implicate vamps? How many situations have they cleaned up just for you? Dozens? Hundreds? Logan and Ryder will do their jobs too. You're worrying needlessly."

"There is no such thing as needless worrying when you're a vamp, Mick. I think all the time you spend with humans has made you oblivious to the danger they represent to us."

Oh–oh, here comes the paranoia again...

"I know you think I'm paranoid," Josef unknowingly echoed Mick's thoughts. "But I've seen so much more than you. I know what humans can do to us when we show up on their radar."

At that moment, Beth was doing her best to shield the vampire nation from Talbot's detection. Feigning what she fervently hoped was a believable expression of surprise, she responded to the ADA. "I hadn't heard anything before you called me this morning. Could you give me a run–down of what happened? How did Emma Monaghan escape?"

Ben stood, loosening his tie slightly, and again started pacing. "Monaghan was being transported to the downtown women's jail. Somehow, there was an accident, – and the van flipped. According to statements from on–the–scene responders, there didn't appear to be another vehicle involved. They ruled out a hit–and–run, because the level of damage to the police van would have meant that if there had been another vehicle involved, it should have sustained the same or worse damage. It would have been immoveable. It looks more like the van swerved to avoid hitting something – or someone. The surviving officer regained consciousness in the ambulance but couldn't remember anything."

Talbott paused to collect his thoughts. "As you also probably overheard, Lieutenant Davis is going to get the officer's statement at the hospital; he should be headed over there now."

He sighed, looking like a boy who was stuck with after–school detention. "Unfortunately, I'll be here fielding calls from the brass for the rest of the morning." Hopefully, I'll still have a job when this is all over, he thought dejectedly.

"So, when you say that your 'team' will be at the residence, does that include me? Or will I be part of financial forensics?" While not wanting to appear overeager, Beth, of course, wanted to be at the Monaghan house. The former occupants were members of a very exclusive club, one to which her lover was a charter member. Being at the Monaghan residence would allow her to be Mick's eyes and ears on–scene.

"I want you in the field, Beth. That's your greatest strength. I need your reporter skills. Knowing you, you'll find something everyone else would miss."

Ben Talbot put his hands on his hips, and leaned forward, his face now ominously close to hers. "But that means only you, Ms. Turner." Beth's eyes widened slightly at the ADA's low, almost threatening tone, knowing exactly what – or rather, whom – he was referring to. I wonder if Mick's day is going any better than mine.

Josef had paused in his heated debate with his friend, as if warring with himself over what to say next. He sighed. "Look, I know you're going to think this is a lecture – and it probably won't do any good – but I'm going to tell you a story about the kinds of things that happen when humans become aware of us. Maybe then you'll understand me better."

I doubt it.

"You remember back when I had you looking for Lola, right?"

How could I forget? Lola was a gorgeous vamp, even older than Josef. She'd gone missing with about a million dollars of his money. The trail led me to an operation she was masterminding – imprisoning vamps in vats of silver while she drained their blood. She distilled the blood and sold it to humans for the 'high' it gave them.

Beth – being Beth – tried the drug and it temporarily turned her into a hyped–up, uninhibited, sexually–charged version of herself. She actually scared me a little! While she was under the influence of the drug, she begged me to turn her. It was all I could do to resist her – I kept telling both of us, "It's the drug talking, not you." What a night!

The warehouse operation where Lola kept the vamps until she had bled them dry was one of the most horrible things I've ever seen. I still have nightmares about it.

Mick mentally replayed the disturbing scenes, bile rising in the back of his throat as he did so. Coming back to the present, he shook it off and said only, "How could I forget Lola?"

"Well, you remember I told you that when I first met Lola, she was building a pirate army."

St. John shook his head affirmatively, his eyes inquisitive.

"I'd just been a vamp for about 30 years – still feeling my oats, so to speak. I heard about what Lola was doing and decided I would make a really cool pirate." He stopped, looking up at Mick, and smiled wickedly for a moment. "Think Johnny Depp, but without the eyeliner and the weird walk."

Mick made a face at the mental image.

"Anyway, I went to Spain, where she was assembling her army. She was turning a fair number of them – wanted them to be invincible. She had a pretty strong ego, you know," Josef added needlessly.

"Yeah, I know," Mick said dryly.

"Well, some of the people she turned weren't exactly model citizens to start with. They had no self–control, no morals. Turning them into vamps made them pretty much uncontrollable – anytime Lola wasn't right there with them, they went on a rampage. It was a pretty ugly scene."

Kostan paused, debating over whether to go further.

"Come on, Josef, you can't stop now!" Mick's protest shook the older vampire out of his reverie.

Josef sighed. "OK, but if I'm going to finish this story, I need some sustenance. How about a little libation, Mick? Got it fresh–from–the–vein this morning. Just a little something to keep your strength up until you can hook up with Beth again." He couldn't resist teasing his friend as he jumped out of his chair and sauntered over to the elaborate bar setup on one side of his enormous office.

Mick chose to ignore the jab, but, as he watched Josef pouring some of the dark, viscous liquid into a tall glass, his fangs extended involuntarily, and he suddenly felt weak. Last night was catching up with him – he couldn't ignore his need for blood.

"I think I will have some, if you don't mind. This sounds like it's going to be a long, sad story."

"No, more like short and horrible," Josef shot back, draining his glass and pouring another for both himself and St. John, handing a glass to his friend as he walked back to his desk. "Feel free to get more if you need it. Somehow, I can't picture Beth being too forthcoming with her own supply…"

"I don't want her to do that, Josef. You know that." Mick accepted the glass gratefully, draining it in two quick gulps, then rising to refill it. Settling back into his wing chair, he raised his glass to Josef. "To pirates!"

"To pirates," Kostan echoed gloomily and sipped from his own glass. Sighing, he set it down on the polished desktop and tilted back his chair to look out the glass windows at the gloomy, rain–filled day.

"So, the pirate army was out of control," St. John prodded.

"Yeah. They didn't obey any of the basic rules we all had back in the day for keeping our kind from being uncovered."

Pausing to collect his thoughts, he continued. "You have to remember what a different time it was. There were no newspapers, no Internet, no… 'BuzzWire'. Nothing to broadcast what we were doing – what was being done to humans by us."

"I would think that would have made secrecy easier," Mick responded

"Yeah – yeah, it did, to a certain extent. But there were reports…rumors…stories that spread through the countryside like wildfire. Each telling was more fantastic, more frightening, than the one before."

Josef took another sip of blood. "It was also a different time in terms of what people were willing to believe. Nowadays, if you actually showed yourself to someone, they probably wouldn't believe it. They'd think you were an actor playing a part – or some coked–up, goth, weirdo emo–kid doing his thing. Then, everyone was uneducated…superstitious. It wasn't a big stretch for them to believe that what they heard – what they saw – was real. That we were real."

"So, what happened?" Mick was curious now in spite of himself.

"It was bad, Mick. Really bad. You can look it up for yourself in history books. Look up Spain, 1749. The clergy and the government banded together to exterminate us, put us down like animals. Google it. You'll see that they rounded up 10,000 'gypsies' in one day. They said the reason was to root out this 'bad race'. Called it 'hateful to God'…" his voice trailed off.

"They figured out pretty quickly that staking us immobilized us. What they didn't know was exactly how to kill us. So…they experimented. Staked vamps were poisoned, stabbed, shot, chopped up…you name it, they tried it."

Josef swallowed hard, staring out the window at nothing. "When we're injured, we heal – but we still hurt, Mick. You know that. Imagine being tortured so horribly, day after day, with no blood to heal you or sustain you…but yet, you can't die either. I can still hear the screams."

The room was quiet for a moment, the rain streaming down the windows casting a shadow on Josef's youthful face, creating the illusion that his face was streaked with tears. Or perhaps it wasn't an illusion…

A clap of thunder made them both jump, jolting Josef out of his trance. Shaking his head, he drained his glass, setting it down carefully on his desk.

"So, how did you survive, Josef?" Mick's eyes were pained. Try as he might, he couldn't imagine the scenario his friend was painting.

"Well, I was lucky. Lola had taken a liking to me early on – I was educated, young, eager to please – and I told you, I was cute." Josef had a ghost of a smile. "She'd made me her 'first lieutenant' while she was assembling the army. When this started, she had escaped, of course. She was faster and stronger than anyone else, even then, so they caught all of us while she got away."

"Real classy move," Mick commented dryly.

"I think her philosophy at the time was that old adage – 'I don't have to outrun the bear, I just have to outrun you!'" Josef shrugged. "Anyway, I was staked but they hadn't gotten around to torturing me yet. She came back for me - I'll never know why. Rescued me and a couple of others."

With the ghost of those long–ago screams seemingly hanging in the air, Josef physically shook himself like a dog throwing off water, bringing himself back to the present.

In a detached voice he finished, "So! Long story short, they figured out that burning or beheading would kill us – and 9,000 vamps were exterminated, just like that." Josef snapped his fingers. "Lola and I, and a handful of others escaped to America. She went back to Europe not too long after that – I couldn't talk her out of it."

Josef paused again. "I've never been back."

He spun his chair around to face Mick again. "So now you know why I was always so willing to give Lola anything she asked for – and why I'm so 'paranoid', as you like to call me."

Mick said, softly, sincerely, "I'm sorry, brother," his hazel eyes sorrowful. "I forget how old you are, and how much you've been through."

"Well, I do like to maintain my uber–cool, young, sexy image, so I can understand your forgetting," Josef reset the tie he had loosened and summoned his usual wicked smile, distancing himself from his friend again with his sarcasm. His dark brown eyes, however, remained somber and brooding.

"You can understand, then, why I would have preferred that you hold off on fulfilling your heart's desire last night," Here, he made a face. "At least, until you saw this thing through. I didn't live this long by being sloppy."

"Josef, I'm leaving Logan and Ryder a message right now to make sure that they did everything we talked about." Mick's fingers were flying over his iPhone's glossy surface. "Will that make you feel better?" Without looking up, he added, "I don't think we need to follow up with The Cleaners though – trust me, they get really pissed when you do that.

"Personal experience there, Mick?"

"Yeah, you could say so – and not one I want to repeat anytime soon, if you don't mind!"

"Hmmm…sounds like a story we should have over drinks some night!" Josef smirked.

I think we've had enough stories for one day…

I need a drink – maybe two, Beth silently groused, listening to her boss drone on about protocol and procedure, evidence contamination, and all the other reasons why Mick St. John was not welcome at any official crime scene. Meaning HIS crime scenes, she added her snarky mental note. The whole alpha nature of men and their propensity towards pissing contests were beyond her meager powers of comprehension.

Actually, for once, Mick was not the aggressor. She and Mick had first met Talbot at BuzzWire several weeks ago, when she'd found her boss, Maureen, murdered in her office. Even then, Ben had shown animosity towards Mick. The assistant district attorney had let them know he hadn't heard good things about the private investigator and he had made no attempt at being anything but politely civil to St. John – actually, 'politely hostile' was probably the more accurate description.

Once Talbot finished his speech, Beth simply nodded her compliance, making a mental note to find out exactly why the ADA had it in for her… boyfriend?

"Good," Ben chirped, his mood seemingly lighter. He stood, hands in his pockets. "I need to have a final report in to the DA before the day is out, so, you'll need time to comb the house top to bottom and get back to me with your findings quickly. I'll have an officer meet you at the house to unlock it. It should take you about forty–five minutes each way just to drive and time is tight, so you need to high–tail it outta here right about…now." He glanced up at the clock high on the wall.

"I'm all over it," Beth took the hint, gathering up her notepad and racing to exit Talbot's office.

"Beth… could you shut the door on your way out?" Talbot smiled tightly. "There'll probably be some more yelling off and on and I don't want to disturb anyone out there."

"Sure." A few steps, and a shut door later, Beth Turner was heading to her assignment, relieved to be on her way.

Ben stared after her for a few moments as she cleared off her desk and headed out. Then, he prepared for his many phone calls… but first…

Talbot reached for a nondescript black envelope, conveniently stored in an unmarked file on his desktop. Hesitating before opening it, Ben pulled out the mysterious list, first eyeing the crossed–out names of Emma and Jackson Monaghan, then flipping through until he saw the final two names on the last page:

Josef Kostan

Mick St. John

The assistant district attorney then reached into his drawer and pulled out a thick case file, also labeled MICK ST. JOHN.

The young man's thick brows knit as he considered what lay before him. His legally trained mind refused to accept that these were mere coincidences. This all meant something... But what?

The phone rang, bringing him out of his reverie and shifting his focus from this puzzle, for the time being. Allowing himself a few moments before answering, Talbot turned to watch the slowing rain, wishing with each drop that this whole mess would just wash away.

Beth wasted no time gunning out of the parking lot, thankful that the rain finally seemed to be stopping. Truth be told, she loved being in the field; she was definitely not cut out to be a desk jockey. Today's assignment, however, was not a mere exercise in information–gathering. This was about protecting Mick – and the entire vampire community – from detection.

The drive to the Monaghan's home was mercifully brief, but in terms of anticipation and worry, it seemed to take forever. During the drive, Beth reached for her cell phone to try Mick once more, but then decided against it.

There was no telling how heated things were with him and Josef. The last thing she wanted to do – especially as an 'outsider' and mere mortal – was to get in the middle of it. She was sure he'd contact her as soon as he could – and, if there was an emergency, she knew she could count on him to respond immediately. The wheels of her mind kept even pace with her car, as she used the silence to strategize, and prepare as best she could, for what awaited her.

In just over 30 minutes, she arrived at what had been the Monaghan residence. At this time of day, the streets were almost deserted, most residents having already left for work, school and other assorted destinations. Leery of parking on the grounds, Beth instead opted for the street, making sure her official permit was clearly displayed.

Pulling in at the curb,the young woman carefully surveyed her surroundings, noticing a dark sedan parked immediately across the street from her. Much to her dismay, she recognized the slender, handsome black man waiting beside it, arms folded. "Damn it! And damn Talbot!" she fumed.

The ADA had told her he was sending someone over to unlock the house for her but she didn't expect this – the last person she wanted to see here. Beth took a moment to smooth her damp hair and steady herself before exiting the car. Wearing her best game face, she made a beeline toward the inevitable.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Carl," she chirped sweetly.

Carl Davis nodded courteously. "'Morning, Beth. How's life treating you now that you're on our team?"

She smiled slightly before quipping, "Let's see… gossip, intrigue, egos – almost makes me miss BuzzWire". That was not exactly a joke.

The lieutenant winced slightly, twisting his features with mock pain. "Sorry I asked."

Beth laughed in spite of herself. He was a stickler for protocol and procedure, but she had always respected Davis. Unfortunately, current circumstances dictated that he be viewed as a potential enemy. "I'm surprised to see you here. Ben told me that you were at the hospital, interviewing the survivor."

"Yeah, well, doctors said he took a few nasty bumps, including a mild concussion, but he should be fine." Lieutenant Davis paused and looked skyward for a moment, as if offering up a silent prayer. "The other one – we had the pleasure of informing his wife just a few hours ago that he didn't make it. The kids were still asleep – I don't want to know how they'll take it." He shook his head and added sarcastically, "Great part of my job."

Beth paled and lowered her eyes. She'd heard Ben mention the surviving officers, but the lieutenant's comments reminded her how serious this all was. Vampires were not the only victims in this tragedy. She was briefly ashamed that she'd forgotten about her own 'kind'.

After a few moments of awkward silence, the lieutenant motioned towards the property. "Oh well, I didn't mean to be a Debbie Downer. Time to get started."

Nodding agreement, she followed Davis onto the actual property, carefully looking around as they approached the mansion. There was clearly no one else there. Only the tell–tale signs of the earlier frenzy remained – trampling of the previously immaculately manicured garden, a plethora of footprints, and, of course, the official notice nailed to the door.

She stood off to the side, allowing the detective to open the house. Ever the gentleman, Carl Davis held the door open to allow her inside first. Beth acknowledged his politeness, noting how odd it felt to have him actually inviting her into a crime scene.

Once inside, Davis gave her a quick synopsis. "We've already been here. Gave this place a complete going over. Didn't find too much of anything, though. No computers, no licenses or passports, no money, wallets' missing, clothes were gone, no cars in the driveway… looks like they hightailed it out of town to me." The lieutenant put his hands on his hips and stared hard at his guest.

"So…why'd Ben send you?"

Beth had known Carl since she'd first started at BuzzWire as an eager – but very green – BuzzWire reporter – long enough to understand that Davis was far from stupid. Quite the opposite was true. Noting that he'd used her boss' first name rather than his proper title, she considered her answer carefully.

Shrugging, she replied, "Talbot just wants me to give this one more look through before writing the official report. He already has the preliminary information from the team that confirms what you've just told me."

Affecting what she hoped was a disarming smile, she continued. "He really got hammered by the higher–ups. I think he just wants to dot his I's and cross his T's. This is just a quick visit, really, for official purposes. Besides, I know you want to get back to the hospital." Beth had worked with cops before and knew that the police brotherhood took these situations very hard.

Lieutenant Davis seemed to accept her explanation. "Okay, let's get this wrapped up then. Did you need my help with anything?"

Beth froze for a moment, unsure of how to respond; being on this side of things felt strange to her. "Nah, I don't really expect to find anything. I'll holler if I need you, Carl. – is that okay?" she asked hesitantly

The lieutenant gave a quick nod. "That's fine, Beth. If you don't mind, I'm gonna hang around out front. Haven't been to sleep since night before last, so I could use the fresh air. Call me if you need me." With that, he took up position just outside, sitting on the steps to the main entrance, his back against the stone wall that enclosed the front courtyard.

Beth relaxed a little as she headed into the house, out of the officer's immediate presence. That wasn't so bad.

Still, she reminded herself, he was within earshot, and keenly observant, so she had to watch what she did. Fortunately, in her official capacity as civilian investigator, her actions would not seem out of the ordinary – and only she knew her real intent.

Her primary concern was the possible presence of vampire memorabilia. She'd remembered that Jackson Monaghan had commented that he and his wife didn't entertain human company. She was concerned that they might not have been as careful as Mick to keep "special" items hidden.

Mick had mentioned before that The Cleaner was very good at her job, but she still had a sense of unease. It was comforting to note that Carl had not mentioned any unusual forensic evidence. Like, say, stashes of blood! A quick peek into the Sub–Zero refrigerator confirmed her growing hunch that someone had been through the place to rid it of potentially damning effects.

Once out of the kitchen, she took a quick tour through the numerous bedrooms and bathrooms, looking for any signs of a freezer. Sadly, she recalled Mick's comment when they visited the house together to talk with Jackson Monaghan after Emma's arrest – that the Monaghans probably had a double–wide freezer.

It was just as Carl had stated – no significant personal effects of any kind, and nothing out of the ordinary.

Finishing her cursory expedition through the mansion, Beth returned to the main living room by way of the study. She hadn't found anything that could remotely be tied to vampires. Still, she had the feeling there was something she'd missed…something of interest… What was it?

"So this is what 150 years of marriage looks like. Check out these wedding licenses! They've got a new pair of names every twenty years or so…"

Realization hit her like an electric shock.

Careful not to arouse the attention of the deceptively nonchalant lieutenant, Beth strolled slowly toward the study she'd just passed through. She slowly slid back through the door...

… and came face to face with the wall Emma Monaghan had shown her, covered with the history of her and Jackson's 150 years together. Marriage certificates, with dates, cities, names, and record numbers from numerous municipalities, along with other printed effects that pointed to a life of antiquity.

Beth felt her throat close in panic, all but passing out. To the average person – or investigator looking for evidence of normal, human crime – these would be passed over, dismissed as an idiosyncratic collection at best, if noticed at all. Especially given the urgency of the prior evening. But to the supremely curious, like herself – or to someone who didn't like unanswered questions – like a certain assistant district attorney she worked for…

Paper always had a trail.

A single mistake, records that weren't quite right, with the new information age constantly updating and cross referencing...

…all lined up in pretty parchment rows for the right person with the right level of inquisitiveness to find. Almost like a gift to the authorities waiting to be unwrapped…

… and the authorities could always come back.

Beth examined the documents more intently, trying to mentally inventory every piece of paper hanging on the wall, completely lost in the potential enormity of her discovery. Her mind racing, she wondered what else lay hidden in the study.

"Find anything?"

The unexpected voice shocked her back to the present. Beth almost fell over in her panic. "Dammit, don't sneak up on me like that! You almost gave me a heart attack!" That much is true!

"Sorry, Beth," Carl apologized. "I just noticed," he began, jerking his head towards the study's large bay windows, "that you'd been in here a while, and i thought you might have found something interesting."

Beth cursed silently. It seemed Lieutenant Davis knew her better than she thought. She may as well have been an English Pointer, standing there staring like that – it was bound to get his attention. She raised her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment in a mock display of fatigue.

"No, just lost in my thoughts, I guess. I didn't even realize I'd been in here more than a few minutes. I had an short night myself last night." Quickly, she brushed past the officer to the study door. "I didn't find anything. I'm sure I'll be a disappointment to Talbot." As casually as she could manage, Beth added, "I'd love any advice you can give me about getting along with Talbot. I really want this job to work out."

Davis snorted. "You're asking the wrong person there, Beth. He and I are like oil and water, in case you haven't noticed."

"I did. Why is that?" The question was part distraction, part real curiosity on the ex-reporter's part.

The detective shrugged & shoved his hands in his pockets. "Been that way since day one. I just don't care for his style." Fixing his dark eyes on her, he added, "To be honest, I didn't think you did either."

Beth had no good answer for that. Get out of here, you idiot.

"I've got Talbot's reports to do. We'd better get out of here." She almost panicked when Carl hesitated, but then he too moved to leave the study.

The two quickly left the house, with Carl stopping long enough to lock the front door behind them, then continued walking in silence back to their respective vehicles, reaching his car first.

"Sorry this was a bust," Carl stated quietly. "I really hoped you'd find something. If anyone could, it'd be you." He shook his head and said, with real venom in his voice, "I want to get my hands on those bastards."

Again, Beth felt guilty as the full weight of what she knew bore down on her. "Yeah, I hope so, too," was all she could muster. With a quick mental shake, her focus returned. "I've got to get this report to Talbot ASAP," she said as she removed her phone from her bag. "Besides", she said with a slight smile, "I'm starving! I haven't eaten all day."

"Wanna grab lunch?"

Well, I didn't expect that! She kept forgetting that she was now considered part of the team. "No, thanks… you go on ahead. I'd better not keep Talbot waiting too much longer. I'm gonna make a quick call and get started. I'll take a rain check though." As homage to friendship past, she added, "I hear the cochinita pibil has gone on special."

Carl Davis laughed at the reference to the running joke about his lunch habits. "OK. See ya 'round, Beth" he said as he slid into his car.

Beth got into her own car, giving Carl a tight wave as she closed the door. Knowing the lieutenant's tendency to study a person just a few moments longer than normal, she rummaged through her bag, pretending to look for something. She knew better than to acknowledge his peculiar alertness and was rewarded with him finally driving off.

The scene now clear, Beth did make a phone call – but not to ADA Ben Talbot. With each ring, she silently chanted her doleful prayer, "Mick, pick up… please pick up…"

It's been a while since I've heard from Beth. St. John had no sooner had this thought than he remembered why.

Dammit! Faster than any human, he darted to where the phone lay silent and restored its normal volume. It immediately started ringing, startling both vampires. Mick ignored the voice mail indicator when he saw who was calling.

"It's Beth." He was unable to keep the note of happiness out of his voice.

"Well, of course it is." Getting up to take his empty glass to the bar, Kostan added sarcastically, "Do I need to leave you alone?"

"Don't be silly, Josef." Tapping the screen, Mick said, "Hey, Beth, I'm glad you called," glancing at Josef to show his friend that this comment was clearly for his benefit. "What's up?"

Beth knew I was coming to Josef's. This is either really good – or really bad.

As he listened, his eyes darkened, his expression growing serious.

It's bad.

"I'm leaving Josef's right now. Don't touch anything until I get there!"

Breaking the communication and shoving his phone into his coat pocket as he jumped up, Mick directed his comments to the head of the L.A. vampire community, his voice tight with urgency. "Josef, I have to get to Monaghan's. Beth's there, keeping track of the investigation for us, and she's found something that I need to take care of."

He hesitated, clearly debating whether to say more, then sighed inwardly and added, "It appears that the Cleaners overlooked something."

"I knew it!" Josef exclaimed. Spinning around, he grabbed Mick's overcoat and flung it at his friend, his eyes flashed a chilling, icy–blue stare. "Go do your job, Mick."

Catching the coat in mid–stride, Mick threw it on as he ran out of Josef's office. The rain beat down on his head as he jumped into his car and sped away. Of the myriad thoughts jockeying for dominance in the vampire's mind, one edged out all others…

Why TODAY?!

End: "Ruined in a Day" by New Order