This Chapter is two weeks late. Sorry. But it's about 9,000 words, so hopefully it's worth it. This arc was three times longer than I wanted it to be. I don't know what happened. I'm just really long winded, I guess. And even though this arc is around 15,000 words long, it still feels rushed.
Oh, well. Better things to do. So, it turns out that I lied about there being one more arc before Rose comes back. It's just that I changed my mind about some things that are going to happen in upcoming chapters, so there really needs to be more material with the Doctor and Buffy before I can get there. at present (though it might change) there are two chapters, then an adventure arc (3-4 chapters), and then an arc with Rose and drama and stuff.
I'm REALLY looking forward to writing all the upcoming drama. I'm still working out some of the details, but there's gonna be a lot of angst.
I also wanted to get you guys' opinion on the title of this story. I came up with the title when at 2 am when I was loopy and had too much coffee with watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I've been flirting with the idea of changing the title of this fic to something more simple. Thoughts?
Please review, positive or negative. I've really been wanting to improve my writing skills.
Chapter Warnings: Language, violence, a little bit of romance
.
~0~0~0~
Chapter Twenty One: The Hemovore
Part Three
~0~0~0~
.
There were sixty two tiles on the ceiling of the hall running between the break room and Commissioner Grady's office. It took exactly one hundred and three steps to get from one room to the other. I was generally a patient person, especially when compared to the Doctor, but the overall stress of having to sort out this adventure without my Time Lord chaperone was taking a toll.
I was waiting, again, for Grady to sort out this and that. The man had been called away briefly to deal with some other problem that had come up. He was a busy man, and this was a big station. What was really driving me nuts was the fact that he didn't seem to want me to do anything concerning the case without him. Probably because he didn't want someone other than him to solve it, but my position as a fake FBI agent didn't leave me with the confidence to call him out.
So I waited. The next thing Grady had insisted on was showing me the Torell interview. Mrs. Torell was the lady that had witnessed the attack on the most recent victim, the one who identified the Doctor as the attacker.
I'd tried to point out that I had already read her statements in the original report, but Grady insisted. This meant I was waiting for something that was a complete waste of time.
Honest to God, with the Doctor it always seemed so simple. Go in, ask questions, get answers. Was I doing something wrong? Did I just have a face that made people want to procrastinate as much as possible?
I rubbed my jaw and pinched at my cheeks experimentally, but stopped when I saw Leah marching down the hall, headed in my direction. I smiled and pushed myself off the wall I had been leaned up against, meaning to meet her halfway. She was carrying two large, heavy looking boxes and I reckoned that offering to help was a good enough excuse to talk with her again.
Before I could do anything to draw attention to myself, she whirled around, keeping the boxes impeccably balanced, to round on two male officers that were loitering nearby.
I recognized one of the men. Beckett towered over her, glaring down with his arms folded across his chest. I pretended to take an interest in a random flyer that had been pinned to a cork bulletin board, but continued to observe them out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but their body language was anything but friendly.
Beckett did most of the talking. His fists balled up at his sides and his chest puffed out, trying to be as physically intimidating a possible. Not that it seemed to have any effect on the smaller woman. The other man was shorter than Beckett. He had mousy hair and a prominent mole on his cheek. His hands played nervously at his side, giving the impression that whatever the other two people were saying was making him uncomfortable.
The argument ended with Leah storming off. Despite her anger, I couldn't help but marvel at how adorable her pout was.
"Leah?" I asked as she passed me. "Everything okay?"
The young woman froze and turned to face me, having just noticed I was there.
"Oh! Hey Car… Agent Whitford." She shook her head and tried to smile to hide her evident frustration. "Everything's good. You?"
"What was that about?" I inquired curiously.
"What was what?" She blinked for a moment before realizing what I meant. "Oh, with him? It's nothing, really."
I stared at her, quirking my eyebrows the same way the Doctor did when he didn't believe something I said. She sighed.
"I wanted in on the Mrs. Torell interview, okay? Beckett is usually good at getting me into see some stuff, but he said that the Commissioner didn't approve of him letting me through the red tape and whatever." She crossed her arms moodily. "Happy?"
I smiled sympathetically and reached out to take one of the boxes. "Sorry. I know how important this stuff is to you. C'mon, where is this stuff going?"
Her expression softened. "Records. But you don't have to help. I can manage."
"I know you can. But I'm losing my mind waiting for the Commissioner. I like to be useful."
"He's slower than he used to be."
The room we were headed towards wasn't far. I glanced at the plague beside the door that read Records D-7 before piping up again.
"Does Beckett usually involve you in police stuff?" I maneuvered the box into one hand and opened the door for Leah with the other. She nodded her thanks an led the way inside.
"He's not supposed to," she admitted. "But he's a senior officer and the Commissioner lets him get away with a lot. He lets me go on patrol with him sometimes. I don't get to do much of anything, but shadowing is good for experience, right?"
The records room was large and dark, especially since Leah hadn't bothered to turn on the light. Pale light filtered in from the window in the door, catching dust motes that we stirred as we passed. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to read the labels on the rows of tall metal shelves that divided up the room. It reminded me of my library in high school, dark and musty with tall shelves filled with things that no one ever cared to read. But instead of books, the shelves were lined with dozens of large cardboard boxes identical to the ones Leah and I now carried.
Leah found the correct spot for our boxes. She swept away some of the dust with her sleeve before sliding hers and then mine into place. I rubbed my hands together to soothe the ache caused by the box.
"Why Beckett, though?" I asked as she fiddled with the labels, writing something down on a sheet of paper. "If I was going to ask someone to let me shadow, it wouldn't be him."
Leah let out an amused chuckle, not looking up from what she was doing. "Um, would you think less of me if I said blackmail?"
"No."
"Then it's blackmail."
"What do you have to blackmail him with?"
"Knowledge." She finished writing and turned around to lean on the shelf with her arms crossed over her chest. "You saw the other guy that was with him?"
I nodded.
"That's Captain Biddle. Him and Beckett having been having a thing."
"Like a thing thing?" Leah nodded and I asked, "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, of course." Leah brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face and attempted to tuck it back into her braid. The stubborn lock immediately slipped back out of place. I gestured to it and at her nod reached out to fix it.
Her hair was impossibly soft. It slipped through my fingers like the finest silk as I adjusted it and tucked it carefully back within the confines of the rest of the braid. I was glad that the room was dark enough to hide my blush. She was so close that the baby hairs around my face trembled with her every breath. Her gorgeous eyes flickered over my face with interest.
I swallowed nervously, my mouth had gone dry. I finished with her hair and retreated a little, my heart fluttering when she moved with me to preserve the closeness.
She smiled like she had no idea of the effect she had on me and continued. "The problem is that Beckett's wife has no idea. And get this: Biddle is in love with Beckett, like bad. Like, he's asked him to leave his wife and marry him. Beckett won't of course. He's not in it for the long term. So it would be super bad if his wife found out that he's been cheating on her with a man."
"I can see how he wouldn't want that to be spread around." She had been leaning closer as she spoke. The freckles dusting her cheeks were almost invisible in the low light. Her eyes seemed almost black, save for the bluish tint the whites took on in the darkness. "How did you find out?"
"Walked in on them having a quickie," she said airily. She smiled smugly, wetting her lips and casting a brief glance from one side to the other. "In this room, actually."
"Really?" I laughed, trying to mask my nerves and probably failing. Surely she could hear my heart pounding out of my chest, especially since she was so close I could feel her breasts brushing up against mine.
"Yep." Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. "It's the perfect place for it, isn't it?"
He was nearly half a head taller than me, so he had to lean down in order to brush her lips against mine. It had been a while since I'd last been kissed and I froze, but after a moment of gentle coaxing on her part I remembered what I was supposed to do. It started out as sweet and tender, but quickly progressed into something much more heated.
My nerve endings were on fire. Every move she made sent a tingle of pleasure from my lips to my toes. Her tongue ran along the seam of my lips before slipping past to tangle with mine, making my knees go weak. When we pulled apart for air she ducked head down to kiss my neck. I shivered at the sensation of her tongue swiping along the side of my neck and gasped as she sucked briefly at the sweet spot below my ear.
By the time we finally broke apart, I was a gasping, shivering puddle. We took a moment to breathe, foreheads pressed together until we both felt that we could stand on our own.
Leah pulled back a bit but kept her arms wrapped around my shoulders. Her lipstick was smudged and her hair was unkempt from where I had been tangling my fingers in it.
"You'd probably better see if the Commissioner's ready, huh?" She suggested, cracking a grin. "I need to check back in with the record's keeper. She'll be expecting me to check in."
"Yeah… uhh… right."
It took me a second to gather my thoughts. But when I did, I nodded and started trying to straighten myself back up and look like I hadn't just been making out with a gorgeous intern. Hopefully the Doctor wouldn't find out. He was smug bastard when it came to this kind of thing. He would tease me for weeks if he knew what I'd been doing while he was in police custody, of all places.
I could almost hear his long suffering groan and sarcastic complaining when Leah laughed and helped me redo my hair.
~0~0~0~
.
.
~0~0~0~
A few minutes later I wandered into Grady's office to find him waiting for me. He glanced up from a stack of papers and frowned at me from over the tops of his reading glasses.
"This is a pressing investigation," he chastised. "It shouldn't have to wait for anything."
I had to bite back a retort on his own time-consuming habits. Instead I shrugged and settled down into one of the chairs.
"So are we ready for the Torell thing?" I asked, ready to get on with it. The longer this took, the more irritating the Doctor was going to be when I finally managed to get him free.
Commissioner Grady studied me skeptically, no doubt taking note of my slightly disheveled appearance. Leah had redone my hair, tying it half up in favor of putting it back in its original bun. I'd also had to correct my lipstick with hers, as mine was still on the TARDIS. It was obviously a lighter shade than the one I had on earlier, but I hadn't had much choice.
If he noticed, he didn't say anything about it. He put away his papers and shuffled around on his desk for a small black box. He walked out into the middle of the room, scooting the unoccupied chair to the side for space. The black box was placed gingerly on the ground and when Grady stepped back a beam of light erupted from the top, spreading and shimmering until a life size hologram of Mrs. Torell filled the empty space next to me.
I stood to get a better look. "Those are awfully thick glasses," I mused, circling the hologram.
The image of the woman was extremely good. It almost gave the illusion that she was sitting in the room with us, save for the fact that she was slightly see through. One thing that was plainly clear was the thick spectacles perched on the crown of her head. She removed them in what was probably an attempt to look younger. Without them, she squinted and peered about, looking very much like an overgrown mole dressed in faded lace and floral print.
"Are we taking her testimony as reliable?"
Commissioner Grady rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "It's all we got. It won't sit well in court, but I'm not going to worry about it too much until we're positive who to send there."
I hummed in acknowledgement, leaning back against the desk to listen as Mrs. Torell recounted her experience. The only new thing I learned was that I didn't really like the old woman. She was whiny and kept crying clearly fake tears throughout the entire session. I pulled a face when she dug a lace handkerchief from her pocketbook and loudly blew her nose.
~0~0~0~
.
.
~0~0~0~
The interview was extremely long. The person asking the questions, Grady and someone I didn't recognize, kept having to re-ask the same questions over and over in order to get the answers they needed. Mrs. Torell struck me as the type of lady that enjoyed attention, and if she didn't get to the damn point in the next thirty seconds I was going to rip my hair out. Twenty minutes talking about how she was never going to go in that alley again. Twenty minutes.
Thankfully, before I could break something or try to strangle the holographic image of the woman, the presentation was interrupted by Beckett, who knocked once before letting himself in. He stood in the doorway, leaning half in and half out of the room.
"Sir. Miss Drakenson wants a word."
"Not now," Grady waved him away, not looking away from the paused image of Mrs. Torell.
I heard an upset voice from somewhere in the hall, my face reddening when I identified it as Leah. We'd parted ways after exiting the records room. I couldn't help but wonder if the Doctor would be willing to let me hang out in the area for a few days after we finished up here.
"She's being stubborn," Beckett continued, face skewed into a frown. "No! Wait -"
Leah ducked under Beckett's arm and into the room. Clearly agitated, she looked paler than before, beads of sweat dappling across her forehead and little baby hairs curling out of place around her face. She stopped halfway across the room and briefly tried to straighten herself up, tugging at her blouse like it no longer fit her properly before giving up.
"Carly," she started, slightly breathless. "I need to talk to you. Alone."
"Agent Whittford," Commissioner Grady corrected sternly, shifting his glare between her and I. "Honestly, it's none of my business who people choose to fraternize with, but this has gone far enough! It's started to interfere with this investigation and I will not have it."
"Agent Whittford, please," Leah tried again, a note of desperation straining her voice. "It's important."
I stiffened as Grady whipped around to glare at me again. "It's very unbecoming of a federal agent! Flirting… and… and canoodling with someone else while on the case. Unprofessional. You should be ashamed."
Ashamed? No. Worried about being caught as a fraud? Yes. Very. With the Doctor and the faces of the victims of the killer in mind, I went against my instincts, which were screaming at me to listen to Leah. I nodded my head in agreement.
"Yeah. You're right.
"But, Carly!" Leah protested, taking a step in my direction, arm outstretched imploringly.
"Mr. Beckett," Grady instructed, glancing pointedly between the policeman and the secretary.
Leah turned bright red with frustration. She opened her mouth, looking to me for help. I simply shook my head. As much as I agreed with her, with the Doctor still behind bars and my cover to maintain, now was not the time. I felt a pang of regret at her look of betrayal.
Maybe she would forgive me.
Beckett nodded solemnly. He wrapped a meaty hand around Leah's upper arm and began to steer her out the door. The intern turned to glare at me, but otherwise didn't resist. I watched until they turned the corner, then returned my gaze to the files in my hand.
The Commissioner cleared his throat awkwardly and waved his hand at the frozen image of Mrs. Torell, who had her hanky halfway to her face. "Shall we…?"
"No. I've seen enough." Emboldened by my guilt of ignoring Leah, I scooped the box off the ground. After an acceptable amount of fumbling I was able to turn it off and the accursed old hag vanished into thin air. "It isn't any help anyway."
He slumped back into his well-loved chair with a defeated expression."So you don't think Smith is the killer?"
I shook my head dismissively. "No. It doesn't fit.."
"What about Mrs. Torell? She-"
"-needs really thick glasses. You could show her any tall person with dark clothes and she would've said that it was him."
"Fair enough." Grady gave a frustrated sigh and scrubbed at his face irately "So we've got nothing."
"We have a pretty good idea of what he looks like," I pointed out, "Tall, probably male and we know he was at the market."
"A lot of people were at the market," he snapped. He shook his head again at his own tone. "Sorry. It's just that every attack was in a heavily populated area that was already being patrolled by my officers, so how am I supposed to keep people safe when even a police presence isn't enough?"
Something clicked in my brain. I groaned and smacked my forehead. "Oh, duh!"
"What?" Grady asked with wide eyes.
I sprung to my feet. "Do you know which officers were on duty during each murder?"
Grady puffed up angrily. "You're suggesting that it was one of my men?"
"Do you have the records or not?"
"Well, yeah, of course." He started typing into his computer. Once the files were displayed, I scrolled through each one, seeking out the name I knew deep down would be on each list.
"Beckett?" Grady mused. "Beckett. No, it can't- right under- the entire time-"
My heart sank with realization. I grabbed Grady's hand to yank him out of his chair and down the hall, taking the direction Beckett and Leah had gone less than five minutes before.
Stupid, so stupid, I repeated over and over in my head as we dashed past bemused officers and receptionists. I'd known there was something off about him from the beginning. And I'd let Leah go right into his trap. My eyes scoured each door as I searched for the correct room.
Records D-7
I came crashing through the door, stealth forgotten, and froze at the scene before me. It was Beckett and Leah, that was for sure, but Leah… oh, Leah. Leah had him pushed up against a wall of file boxes, the same she'd pushed me up against not an hour ago. One of her hands held his shoulder in place while the other had him pinned by the hip. Her face was buried in neck, moving with such an intensity that anyone that happened upon them might have thought they'd caught the pair in the middle of a much more intimate act. But the metallic tang of blood lingered in the air and a dark stain was leeching down the police officer's uniform.
And God, Leah. At a glance, she looked human. Nearly. She was taller, warped. Her arms and legs were unnaturally long and spindly, like that of a spider. Her spine had elongated so she easily towered over Beckett, who dangled in her grasp feebly, twitching like a dying insect suspended in a web.
"Leah?" I gasped, struggling to find my voice. "Leah. Leah! Stop!"
The creature that had been Leah froze and Beckett crumpled to the ground and lie still.
"Look away," a low, snarling voice ordered, no… pleaded. "Don't look at me like this."
"Leah," I said again, struggling to find the words. "What-"
Whatever I wanted to say was cut off by Commissioner Grady's shout of fear and horror. I whipped around to shout at him, to tell him not to move, but the sound of gunfire shattered the air, drowning out my protests.
One of them hit Leah, and she whirled around with a howl of pain. My blood froze at the sight of her face, the one I knew, but it was strange. Her pale skin stretched around her cheekbones and jaw, twisting and frighteningly translucent. Gleaming yellow eyes glittered in the faint light as her lips parted with a howl of fury, baring a mouth full of long needle-like teeth.
The Commissioner kept firing, completely missing due to how hard his hands were trembling. With another snarl anger, Leah leapt up and in an impressive display of strength and acrobatics, snagged onto the grating of an overhead air duct, removing it with one hand while hauling herself up into it with the other.
Then she was gone.
But Grady kept shooting. Bullets ricocheted off the metal of the air duct, sending sparks showering down on my head.
"That's enough!" I snarled, lunging at him and knocking the weapon to one side. The man's eyes were wide with blind panic. He stared around wildly, not realizing that the threat had passed. "Get a hold of yourself! She's gone."
By that point other people were coming, having heard the commotion. I hurried to Beckett's side, turning him over carefully. The wound on his neck was deeper than the others, probably because the alien's - I tried not to think Leah's - feed and been interrupted. Blood pulsed from the wound. I pressed my hand over it, trying to staunch the flow, but it oozed out from around my fingers, bubbling deep, dark, and red. I studied the dying man's face. Beckett's eyes glittered at me for a moment and I saw his fear and his pain. My heart clenched as he shivered against me for a few precious seconds, as if he were simply cold.
I held his hand, murmuring words of reassurance, making promises I knew wouldn't make any difference. Maybe he believed me, maybe he didn't, but he tried to squeeze my hand all the same. His last breath rattled in his throat and he went still.
I released his hand and staggered away, my stomach flipping as I struggled not to gag. The medics were here, one of them nudged me away from the body while another two took my place.
"Are you hurt, ma'am?" The one that had pulled me away asked seriously. I shook my head and waved them away before turning to face the far wall, needing a moment to myself.
It was Leah, I repeated over and over. It was Leah. I could still feel the warmth of her lips pressing against mine, her mouth wandering down to tease at the soft flesh of my throat -
I shuddered as the image of the gaping wound on Beckett's neck flashed through my mind. My stomach flipped again. It wasn't my first time being up close and personal with someone as they died. No, that title went to my first adventure with the Doctor, with the anthropologists on the tropical planet. I still had nightmares about rotting heads oozing maggots on spikes and the feeling of holding someone's hand as they dissolved into atoms.
It didn't get easier. A part of me wished that it would, but deep down I knew that it never should.
Commissioner Grady was waiting by the doorway, giving orders to officers about covering exits and checking floors and whatnot. He turned to me as I approached him, trying to wipe some of Beckett's blood off on my pants. I was shaking like a leaf but fought hard to hide it.
Grady gave me a sympathetic glance, but didn't comment. Despite our disagreements, we had come to a sort of understanding; he didn't comment on my loss of composure, and I didn't comment on his when he first saw Leah.
Captain Biddle shoved past us, staggering over to where Beckett lay prone and falling to his knees. Grady and I watched sadly as the grieving man caressed his lover's cheeks, turning the dead man's head this way and that in hopes that he might wake up. But he didn't. Biddle's head sagged.
"Poor bastard," Grady mumbled. "Love's a bitch."
My mind wandered back to Leah. "No kidding."
"We've got the building secured," Grady informed me after another moment of watching the Captain grieve. "It's definitely not going to be able to leave. We've got it trapped. The only question is where."
Biddle stood abruptly and swiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He whipped about and stalked towards us with a dark expression that made me nervous.
"We could send a team in the air ducts after it," he snapped, all business. His face was almost blank, but the tears pooling in his eyes and the way he had his jaw clenched gave away his true feelings.
He wanted revenge.
I waved the idea away, but kept my tone soft. "We'd get trapped up there with her. You can't shoot her in the ducts without risking getting hit by the ricochets."
"The air duct system is massive," the Commissioner agreed, "it could outmaneuver us forever."
"We need to find a way to talk to her," I said, thinking back to how Leah had begged me to listen to her and how strained she looked.
She was changing already, I realized. Can she even control it?
"Talk to it?" Biddle sputtered, beady eyes wide with astonishment. "You did see what it did?"
"Yes," I told him gently. "But we can't go after it. More people could get hurt."
"Biddle, why don't you take a break?" Grady suggested, reaching out to rest a consoling hand on the man's shoulder. "Go sit in your office. Or just go home. Eh?"
Biddle shook his head firmly, a tear managing to slip past his defenses and onto his cheek. "I want to get the son of a bitch."
"And we will." Grady subtly waved one of the medics over, a kind looking woman with blonde hair and grey eyes. "But first take a break. We need you at your best. Right?"
The medic understood what was needed of her and took over. With one hand on each of Biddle's arms, she steered him out of the room. He didn't resist, all of the fight leaving his body as Beckett's corpse was covered with a white sheet and gingerly lifted onto a gurney.
"What do we do, then?" The Commissioner inquired when Biddle was out of earshot.
"Up there she has the advantage," I reasoned, pointing up towards the ceiling, "so we need to lure her back down here."
"How do you plan on doing that?"
I shrugged and strode purposefully out into the hallway. "Dunno yet."
Grady dismissed the Captain and hurried to keep up with me. "Where are you going?"
"To free the dude that'll know how to lure her down."
~0~0~0~
.
.
~0~0~0~
My footsteps echoed on the concrete floors and walls of stone and metal as I hurried down the hall of cells until I found the one I was looking for. I quickly slid the sliding hatch open to double check it was the right one and got a glimpse of the Doctor laying idly on an uncomfortable looking bed, staring at the ceiling and twiddling his thumbs. The Time Lord glanced over at the sound and jumped to his feet at the sight of me.
"Buffy!" He greeted, sounding pleased before his face turned serious. "What's happened?"
I was still shaking a bit from the aftershocks of what I'd seen, and I knew that the Doctor had noticed. I forced my hands to steady and aimed my sonic at the lock until the door sprang open. "You've been cleared of all charges."
"Are you okay?" He asked calmly. His sharp eyes flitted over my face, missing nothing. When I didn't answer he grabbed my arm and reeled me into his chest. I buried my face into his shirt, the purple one that I liked, and breathed in his familiar scent of spices and leather. I felt the Doctor's chin rest on the top of my head. He nuzzled into my hair affectionately for a moment, but then released me at the sound of footsteps pounding on the hall. A half second later, Grady came panting into view.
"You can't just let him go!" Grady protested, having only just caught up. He was getting on a bit, gathering a little ballast in the middle. His face was slightly flushed from tailing me through the halls.
I smiled easily, feeling much steadier now that the Doctor was here. "Yeah, I can. I just did, see?"
The Doctor smiled and waved at him cheekily. "Hello!"
"He's innocent, remember? It was Leah."
"Leah?" The Doctor echoed. "Who's Leah?"
"But- but-" the Commissioner sputtered. "There's procedure!"
"There's a vampire-alien chick that used to be one of your interns somewhere in the air vents," I quipped. "I think we're a little past procedure."
"Hah! So it was someone in the station!" The Doctor crowed. "I was right!"
"You could've just told me," I said accusingly, shepherding the two men away from the cells. We were attracting the attention of the handful of the other people that were being held for one reason or another. I could hear them shifting about behind steel doors, some of the more curious ones calling out to us or each other in hopes of finding out what was happening.
"I knew you'd figure it out soon enough," the Doctor answered cheerfully, pleased to be allowed to wander freely once more. "You were having fun playing detective. I didn't want to spoil it."
"Playing detective?" Grady echoed, aghast. "And wait just a - Do you two know each other?"
"No flies on you, Commissioner," The Doctor snarked.
"But how the hell...? Who the hell...?"
"Does it really matter?" The Doctor sighed, rooting through his jacket for his sonic, only to grimace when he remembered that it had been confiscated. I produced it from one of my pockets and passed it to him. "Ta. I'm the Doctor, and this is me best mate, Buffy."
I preened, pleased.
"An' we're quite good at dealing with vampire aliens." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Vampire alien, though. So what's the plan?"
"We need to lure her down out of the air ducts," I explained. "I was hoping you'd have an idea of how to do that."
"And then what?"
"I haven't gotten that far yet," I complained. "We only just figured out who it is."
The Doctor shook his head in mild disapproval. "You're a bit slow today, Buff."
I pouted.
"And it's Hemovore."
"Hemovore?"
"A creature that feeds exclusively on blood. Like leeches an' fleas. It's just a bit more professional than 'vampire', isn't it?"
"So it's not just a Plasmavore?"
He quirked an eyebrow. "How d'you know what a Plasmavore is?"
"Uh," I floundered. "Spoilers?"
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Yes and no. A Plasmavore's sort of tame. This one is too... feral. You can tell by the way they feed. Plasmavores don't usually bite, and if they do it doesn't leave the same pattern. They evolved on the same planet, though. "
"But they aren't the same species?"
"Well, sort of. The Plasmavore is a subspecies that evolved after-"
"So what do we do with it?" The Commissioner interrupted, impatient though he still didn't seem to be over the fact that I wasn't who I said I was. I smiled at him sheepishly.
The Doctor looked thoughtful. "Capture her, I suppose. Then Buffy and I could take her somewhere off-world. Who knows? Maybe she just wants a lift home."
"I think that might work," I offered. I felt a twinge of guilt. "I don't think she can help it. She tried to tell me just before she changed, but I didn't listen."
The Doctor rubbed my shoulder reassuringly. "It's not your fault, Buff. An' if you're right, we just might be able to sort this without anyone else gettin' hurt. Sound good to you, Commissioner?"
"I- I-" Grady sputtered.
I sighed and shook my head at him dismissively.
"How do we get her out of the ducts?" I asked. "She's not like a wild animal. She's smart."
"It would be hard to trick her," The Doctor agreed. "But we may be able to reason with her."
Grady scoffed. "That's not likely."
"Why not?" The Doctor countered. "She knows she's trapped and that she can't stay up
there forever. The way I see it, she has three options. She can try to negotiate, she can hedge her bets that we'll try to come up there after 'er, or she can try to fight her way out. Which would you choose?"
"What I would do isn't the question," Grady said solemnly. "It's what she will do."
~0~0~0~
.
.
~0~0~0~
An hour later saw the Doctor hunched over the heavy wooden table in the interrogation room, except this time he wasn't handcuffed and could go in and out at will. He was fussing over an odd contraption made out of some kind of futuristic coffee machine and a hulking printer he'd managed to unearth from the bowels of the Commissioner's office. I sat opposite of him, stripping wires and twisting them together as per his instructions. The Commissioner flitted in and out, torn between hovering over the people that he now knew were frauds and overseeing the rest of the building. The fact that the aging man was worried was understandable. I was grateful overall that he recognized that the Doctor and I were his best bet at sorting out the issue at hand. It everything significantly easier. As thankful as I was that we weren't having to struggle on two fronts, the constant hovering and questions were giving me a headache, which worsened under the harsh overhead lights.
I finished the wires I was fiddling with and held them up for the Doctor's appraisal. "Like this?"
The Doctor glanced up. I watched anxiously as his eyes flitted along every wire, ensuring that each was connected securely and to the right part before giving me a toothy grin that made me flush with pleasure.
"Perfect," he said, snatching the tangle of parts from my hands and begin to puzzle it into the rest of his creation.
The goal was, as I understood it, to create some kind of generator which would produce a certain kind of sonic wave. These waves, which he referred to as hypermoligenisatic waves, caused molecules with alternating bonds to go into a state of flux. Once turned on, the Hemovore would begin to alternate between her two forms. The Doctor reasoned that, while this wouldn't hurt Leah, it would be extremely uncomfortable and draining, which would force her to seek out the machine in order to destroy it. The plan was to leave it in the interrogation room, its one air duct access point making it easy to defend. The Commissioner had provided an assortment of restraining technology designed to trap violent criminals from a distance in beams of light. Despite Grady's initial violence towards Leah, he was a man of justice and was in agreement with the Doctor's insistence that the Hemovore should be unharmed.
"But what do we do once we have it restrained?" The Commissioner had inquired, scratching nervously at his mustache and making it bristle out like the tail of a frightened cat.
The Doctor shrugged. "Talk to her. Try to convince her to leave the planet, I suppose."
"And if she refuses?"
"We try to get her to my ship anyway. I can take her to a place where she can survive without hurting anyone."
Commissioner Grady's eyes darted nervously between the Doctor and I. "I don't doubt the existence of aliens. It's a well known fact that intelligent life exists on other planets. But you two don't look like aliens."
The Doctor gave an amused smile. "It's a pretty standard shape, believe it or not." He jerked his head in my direction. "And Buffy's human."
"I see," Grady said despite the fact that he looked like he very much did not. This only made the Doctor's smile widen before he turned back to his work.
I finished piecing together the basic odds and ends that the Doctor trusted me with and stood up to stretch. Several vertebrae cracked up my spine, causing me to wince. The Doctor held up his contraption and eyed it critically.
"Are you done?"
"Nearly." The Doctor went back to sonicing the generator, a frown sullying his angular features.
"If you don't need me for anything else, I was gonna grab a coffee from the break-room." I cast my thumb over my shoulder.
"Mmhmm," the Doctor hummed, not fully paying attention.
"Want anything?"
The Doctor gave a noncommittal grunt, which I took to mean 'yes, if there's anything good.' I patted him on the head as I passed, breaking his concentration and prompting him to grumble his annoyance. I smiled cheerfully back at his leather-clad form before ducking back through the heavy steel door.
The station felt eerily empty as I wandered through the halls. All non-essential personnel had been evacuated, so the only people in the building where armed officers and a small handful of prisoners that couldn't be safely transferred.
I nodded politely to a small cluster of officers patrolling the floor as they pushed past me. Biddle was among them, ignoring me in favor glaring at an air vent. The rest bobbed their heads in acknowledgement and continued on their way.
The break room wasn't far from the interrogation room, just around the corner and a few doors down. Unsurprisingly, it was devoid of life. It looked like any other break-room I had ever been in, somewhat sad and subdued despite the odd half-hearted attempt to make it more homely via a wilted plant and a lonely red cushion on the abused and dingy couch that looked like it had been there since the nineties. T was also carpeted, unlike most of the rooms in the station. Not that it was an improvement. It was ugly and stained, the washed orange color making the room feel simultaneously cramped and empty.
I flinched as one of the fluorescent lights overhead flickered and buzzed, suddenly realizing that wandering around on my own probably wasn't the best idea. I instinctively reached up to grasp the medallion that hung around my neck, then chided myself for being so childish. I had gotten better at entering and exiting the Otherside to the point that I could do it instinctively. The Doctor often teased that it was turning into a defense mechanism. Not that that was a bad thing, but it was a bit embarrassing when I panicked and jumped out of reality when it wasn't necessary, especially once the Doctor began intentionally trying to scare me just to see if he could make me disappear.
My ears burned with annoyance as I fished out one of the generic mugs lodged in the back of the cabinet, remembering the time that the Doctor bought a mask at a festival on the planet Zer. The thing was horrible. It had gaping, bloody eyes, long curving fangs, and a straw mane crudely crafted into the shape of fingers. The handsome young man that I had met and was exploring the festival with got a good laugh out of my friend's harmless prank, which ended abruptly when he realized that his date had vanished into thin air. The Doctor apologized, but his stupid grin blatantly said that he wasn't the least bit sorry.
I was so preoccupied by the memory and the process of working the 2042 model coffee machine that I didn't notice the dark shape creeping silently out of the air vent until the door to the hall slammed shut. My throat tightened, fear turning my mouth dry as the lock on the door clicked, signaling that the only obvious way in or out would be difficult to pass through. I grit my teeth, refusing to outwardly panic despite the way my heart fluttered in my chest like a trapped bird.
I'm not trapped, I reminded myself sternly. I can get out. I can be safe. I'm going to be fine.
One of the chairs at the rickety metal table scraped along the dingy carpet, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. The metal chair creaked under the weight of its occupant.
"Want a cup?" I offered, still trying to pluck up the courage to turn around. "We didn't get to finish our last one."
Leah didn't respond, so I went about pouring a second one. I could hear her tap, tap, tapping at the table top with one of her long, spindly fingers; whether out of annoyance or nerves, I couldn't tell. But she hadn't immediately attacked me, which told me that she wasn't here to fight. She'd singled me out, waited until I was alone. She just wanted to talk. With this in mind, I finally turned around.
The sight was more or less what I had expected. Leah, the true Leah in all her frightening Hemovore glory, sat at the table, looking very out of place. Her unnaturally long legs and arms bent awkwardly to fit into a seat that was obviously not meant for her, like an adult trying to sit at the kids' table. Despite this, she'd been considerate enough to sit at the side opposite of me, keeping the table between us in hopes that it would make me feel safer.
Leah's sunken yellow eyes peered at me curiously from her sallow face as I placed the second coffee mug in front of her before settling in the seat across from her. She watched as I meticulously added sugar and stirred exactly four times before speaking up.
"You're handling this remarkably well," she commented when I finally took a swallow, her voice a low rumbling noise reminiscent of distant thunder.
I shrugged. "Not my first date with an alien."
I took the opportunity to study her carefully for the first time. Despite the changes, I could still pick out the features of her human form; the slant of her nose and the curve of her jaw. She was still quite beautiful, but in an unearthly and terrifying way. She was spindly and angular like something out of a Tim Burton movie, but there was an elegance to the way she moved and an intelligent gleam in her owl eyes that made me less afraid.
She stirred her coffee with one of her twig fingers. "I heard your friend talking. You're not from this planet, like me."
"The Doctor's isn't human, but I am."
"Are you stranded here?"
"No, just passing through. You?"
She nodded, slightly wistful.
"Did you crash?"
"Yes. I was one of three, but now…" She shook her head sadly at the memory. "Can you take me home?"
"We could," I acknowledged with a frown, giving my coffee another stir. "But how do we know you're not gonna turn on us the second we're outside this building? You've killed people, Leah. How do I know you won't do it again? On this planet or wherever we take you?"
Leah flinched and I felt a little guilty, but held my ground. I wouldn't admit to it, but there was a small part of me that felt betrayed. I didn't like being manipulated, especially when it ended in someone's death. It would be a long time before I could sleep without seeing the light fade from Beckett's eyes, so if I was going to let his killer go free, I had to be certain.
"I didn't have a choice," Leah said mournfully, though I couldn't tell if she was being sincere or not. "My species needs to drink blood to hold our form. Without it…" She gestured to herself.
"So why are you like this now? You drank from Beckett."
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, mumbling, "I didn't want to lie again. I meant to tell you before, when I first realized you weren't who you said you were, but I left it too late. Beckett wasn't likable, so I hoped you would forgive his death."
"It doesn't work that way."
Her shoulders sagged a bit. "Would you being more forgiving if I changed back? You liked my other form."
"I'd like you in any form, Leah." Sadness flickered in my chest. "You're smart and sweet." I smirked. "And a damn good kisser."
Leah smiled for the first time in her true form, exposing rows of needle-like teeth. "I like you too. Does that mean you will take me back to my world?"
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it out of the bun so I could scratch my scalp. "I'm not sure what else we can do. The Commissioner doesn't have a clue, I think he just wants you gone."
"What about your friend? Will he agree?"
I nodded. "That's what he's hoping for. It makes everything easier."
Leah smiled again, and this time I wasn't frightened by the sheer number of sharp fangs crammed into her mouth. I grinned back, but before I could say anything further, the locked door banged open, hitting the wall hard enough to leave a dent. Three shouting police officers, led by Captain Biddle, pointed their guns at Leah, the muzzles gleaming in the fluorescent light.
I shouted for them to stop, to put down their guns and listen, but they didn't. Leah's massive form leapt over the table to land at my side. Before I realized what was happening, she was behind me, spindly fingers wrapped around my throat, holding me in place as her human shield.
Leah's low growl whispered into my ear, "I'm sorry."
My first instinct was to use the medallion to slip out of her grip, but I held my ground. If I moved, they would shoot. I wasn't entirely sure if I was an actual hostage or pretending to be one. Either way, I would play the part.
"Captain Biddle," I said sternly, barely masking the tremor in my voice. "Put it down. I don't think she wants to hurt anyone. Get the Doctor and the Commissioner. We… we can talk this out."
Biddle's eyes were wild, full of pain and rage. It was plain that he wasn't listening. He glanced from me to Leah, calculating. My heart sank at the realization that he wasn't trying to work out how to get me away from Leah, but weighing how willing he was to shoot me in order to kill the monster that had killed the person he loved.
Captain Biddle's gun wavered. For a moment I thought he was going to lower it, but the officer stiffened at the sound of a voice from somewhere in the hall, which I identified as the Doctor's, ordering him to stand down.
Biddle's gun steadied and his finger tensed on the trigger.
I had a split second to make a decision; stay where I was and offer Leah a moment's protection, or leave the dimension and avoid getting shot.
I didn't get the chance to deliberate. Leah realized what was about to happen in the same moment I did. I was thrown bodily across the room an instant before the sound of the weapon firing filled the air. I slammed headfirst into the cabinets and instantly crumpled to the floor, stunned.
Pain blossomed from the place my head had hit. I wanted to rub it, but was too dazed to do anything more than just lay there. My vision swam, making my stomach flip. I had to focus hard on not vomiting.
My view of what was happening was blocked by worn carpet and the old table that Leah had toppled over, but I could still hear. The sound of multiple guns firing over and over mixed with Leah's screams and roars, overlapping into a horrible cacophony that had my ears ringing. Though it must've only lasted a few seconds, I thought it would go on forever. But mercifully, the outraged screams died out and the gunfire tapered out on shooter at a time.
It wasn't silent, though. People were shouting, some angry and others upset. I was trying to work out what they were saying and blink away the blurriness in my vision when a pair of hands landed on my shoulders, rolling me over into my back and lifting my head to peer into my eyes.
It was the Doctor, obviously. He helped me sit up and quickly checked my body for any injuries, finding none except the rapidly forming knot on my hairline.
"Leah?" was all I was able to ask.
The Doctor's beautiful blue eyes were dark with sadness as he met my gaze and gave his head a single, sharp shake.
~0~0~0~
.
.
~0~0~0~
The walk back to the TARDIS was slow and relaxed. No stars were visible despite the darkness, but the lights of the city were pretty and shining in their own right. It had rained at some point during the time we'd been inside the police station. Puddles were bleeding lazily across the sidewalks and gathering on the asphalt roads. I skirted a few of the deeper ones to protect my nice shoes while the Doctor sloshed through them without a second thought, much more interested in pointing out some of the sights as we ambled past and giving a brief rundown on some of the local history.
I looped my arm through his as we walked, not listening to his rambling as much as I usually might, my thoughts lingering instead on Leah and Beckett. I tired to listen to the sound of the Doctor's voice, finding some sort of comfort in the familiarity of it. As long as the Doctor was talking, everything was okay, no matter if it really was or not.
The deaths of Leah and Beckett had hit me hard. I'd seen death during my travel with the Doctor. More than I cared to count. Maybe it was because I knew I could've done something to stop it. If I had listened to Leah, she might not have killed Beckett, and then Biddle wouldn't have been so driven to kill her. I voiced this concern to the Doctor, and he responded by launching into an explanation about how it didn't work that way; there was no way to know if doing something different would have saved lives or caused more death; and most importantly, thinking in terms of what ifs made it harder to move on.
It hadn't made me feel much better. The Doctor knew perfectly well that sometimes nothing could soften the blow. So he did what he did best, distract me and pretend that nothing had happened. I knew he wasn't unaffected. The Doctor wasn't the sort of man to be unaffected by anything. But if nothing else, he could help me steer my thoughts away from those that bothered me.
And it worked, more or less. By the time the walk was almost over he'd managed to coax a couple of smiles and even a quiet laugh out of me. He was full of stunts and little dorky antics that made it hard not to be amused.
"I've got a question," The Doctor piped up as soon as the TARDIS was in sight. "Who's Carly Whittford?"
"I didn't know if you mentioned me to the cops before I got there."
"No, I got that part. But where'd you get it from?"
"Nowhere," I lied, ignoring a twinge of sadness. "It's just a name."
The Doctor studied me for a moment with a thoughtful expression but then nodded his acceptance before pushing his way into the console room. I knew he didn't believe me, but I couldn't find it within myself to care. I'd had enough emotional turmoil for one day. The Doctor understood, of course, him being who he was. Not that he would never bring it up again, because he was far too curious by nature for that, but he knew when to leave well enough alone.
"That does us for Portland, Buffy Reid," he concluded flippantly, yanking on the dematerialization lever. "Could've been better, could've been worse. But I mentioned New York, didn't I? How does a picnic in Central Park sound? I could do with a-"
He turned to me with a cheeky smile that faded slowly as his eyes drifted past my shoulder, following the route of Geronimo the mouse as he scampered away from the console and disappeared down one of the corridors.
"I forgot the bloody mouse traps."
~0~0~0~
.
Responses to Comments:
A Week Of Sundays ; sam ; C. S. Stars ; Cinnybun ; Great i dea ; Alikai ; Miriam Who ; GhostlySights : Thanks so much for commenting! I love seeing all the coments and theories! Hope you continue to enjoy!
sophiewhettingsteel : She originally wasn't the Hemovore, but my sister read my first draft and said that Leah was boring. So I switched it up. Hopefully the amount of flirting and kissing was enough to make up for what happened ;) I'm glad you like the dialogue, as it's incredibly hard for me to write.
bored411 : He 'did', but Buffy just sort of wrote it off as him being his usually dramatic butthole self. She didn't miss it though, she just didn't bank on it. Super stoked you like Leah, I kinda wished i could've done more with her. I like it when Buffy gets a little action. Completely different note, I think it's cool you're reading this bc I'm currently in the middle of reading one of your fics. Small world, huh? Let me know if you think there's anything I can improve on :)
savethemadscientist : Definately based on the Plasmavore :) Stoked to know that someone is as eager to get to Rose as I am. Spoiler: DRAMMAA