hiya! glad you guys liked the first two chapters. I'm trying to see how I'm going to work out the rest, but I hope that interest doesn't leave me and I'll be able to finish. I have a rough outline but I apologize if it isn't going to be the best work-it's been awhile since I have actively made the choice to write...well, a longer fanfiction that isn't a one-shot.
"We cracked it!" Lucy grinned, dusting her hands off. It was by no easy feat to solve the case, though she was sure it was only an entry level one. But she survived her first case, despite what reservations she was sure both the Prof and herself had. The stumbles she made along the way were thankfully easily corrected by her new mentor.
"It was quite impressive Lucy, especially for someone's first case." He congratulated her, making notes in the report he needed to file. Lucy smiled sheepishly across from him, rubbing her neck at the area the Prof had bit into her. It was healing impressively well, despite the relative freshness. It no longer stung to the touch, but felt as though it hadn't been touched so recently.
"Now you're just saying that to make me feel better for the mistakes I made." She smiled sheepishly, pink tainting her cheeks.
"Mistakes are normal. Some people aren't due for this line of work. Generally, what prevents them lies in their abilities to both actively seek out the murderer while being able to remain consistent within their interrogation towards the said criminal. Their resolve fades when they stumble upon mistakes, thinking that this line of work is what you tend to expect in the movies." He tapped his chin, thinking for a moment before saying, "Now I can confidently call you my assistant."
"Really Prof?" She asked, "I suppose I passed your test, ey? Not that we really needed one."
"The whole 'Prof' thing can be worked on, but I suppose you are able enough based on that case that I can call you as such. Besides being my donor." He said, adjusting his lab coat. "Let me try again, shall I?"
"Hm?" She tilted her head slightly to the side, "Try what again, Prof?"
"My previous attempt to introduce-or rather, lack thereof-isn't fair to you, considering you'll be a permanent addition. If you will allow me, I would like to try again." He said. Lucy merely nodded.
"Welcome to London's New Scotland Yard Serious Crime Division Classified Investigation Agency Headquarters." His expression indicated severe annoyance at the long name and she was inclined to agree. She was about to comment on such when he continued, "The name drags on longer than necessary; incredibly inefficient. I tend to call this place the Mystery Room for the sake of brevity."
"Heh. Sounds quite mysterious, Prof." She smiled more to herself, "I work in the Mystery Room. Chuck all your crimes at me and I'll bat them all down one by one!" His lips tugged upwards at her enthusiasm, though turned his attention back to the report he was filling out. It was roughly a five minutes of silence before the Prof broke it.
"One more thing, Lucy." He said without lifting his eyes off the report, "What time do you tend to rise on the weekend?"
"Er..." She was about to ask why he requested such information from her, then she recalled the second half of her job. "Depends, Prof. I consistently wake around 9 though."
"Perfect." He took a notepad and scribbled down an address, passing it to her. "Come to this address at 11 o'clock sharp on Saturday."
Saturday rolled around before Lucy could anticipate it. He had not called upon her services as a donor since that first day, expressing that it wasn't something he would need every day and they could continue on their exhaustive business of solving each case that came to their doorstep. The week transpired with mainly small cases, those that were not of necessary importance but still needed to be solved. It was fun, amusing, and interesting.
The address the Prof provided her was to one of the flats that were roughly 15 minutes from Scotland Yard. A modest, small yet not so small flat tucked in the middle of busy London. Knowing the general salary of a Detective Inspector, he should have been able to afford better. Perhaps it just wasn't in his purview to divulge in such wants or needs.
Her own flat was roughly only 8 minutes from his, so she made no necessary rush when she knocked on his door at exactly 11 o'clock sharp as promised. The door flung open, much to her surprise, revealing a disheveled Prof-well, more so than he normally was. Rather than wearing the lab coat she was so used to gracing his features, he wore only a holey jumper and sweatpants.
"Lucy." He slurred slightly. If she didn't know better, she would have almost said that he was drunk or high but he had no trace of alcohol nor drugs on his person from what she could tell. It was more that he had woken up abruptly and was dealing with a bit of vertigo from standing so quickly, but it had to be more than that.
"Prof, good morning! Are you okay? You don't look so well-oh!" Lucy stepped forward into the carpeted flat, grabbing a hold of her mentor who seemed to be on the verge of everything and nothing at the same time. He would have fallen had her reflexes not kicked in. She managed to drag his lanky frame onto the nearby couch. "Prof? Prof, can you hear me?" She squatted in front of him, trying to look at him clearly and nudged at his shoulder. His head lolled to the side, glancing down to Lucy's concerned face.
"Sorry. I tend to go on these long periods that I don't feed, even when I have my old donor's vials in my possession for emergencies. It has become quite the habit." He massaged his temples as though doing so would alleviate the problem. "I must confess I lied to you about not needing your blood. I can last for a few days, but it does become quite the problem when I don't feed."
"You look ghastly Prof! You shouldn't be subjecting yourself to this, especially if you know it can do this to you. Why did you lie to me?" She bit her lip when he just moaned softly, "I'm here now, right? You'll be sorted soon enough."
He looked to her in earnest, examining her through quiet eyes. It must be agony for him, she realized. Like a craving that couldn't disappear unless it was sated, but it would return so very often. She wished she could understand his perspective.
"It was my vicious attempt to see if I could ignore these cravings. I must confess, even after four years of testing the limits, it doesn't quite work like I expected." He muttered, fingers reaching for her neck to touch where he had bit her that Monday. It healed well, save for scarring that wasn't obvious at first glance unless one really looked into it.
"But why ignore them if you know what they could do to you?" It was more of a rhetorical question but the Prof graced her with an answer anyway.
"Never asked to be this," he admitted plainly, "I cannot seem to get away from it. Let's just get it over with, shall we?"
She nodded, tucking the stray strands of hair and came close to him like before, taking a seat. She had opted for a green cardigan to make it easier to take from him. The Prof brought her close, even to the point where she was practically sitting on his lap. She craned her neck out for easier access, to which the Prof chuckled at darkly. Without segue, he came close to the pale skin and bit.
The feeling wasn't any better than it was that Monday, but it was much more tolerable and more importantly, shorter than last time. He let go after a minute, licking his teeth clean and savoring every drop he took. Taking a tissue from a box atop the coffee table, he wiped off the remaining blood and let the wound heal on it's own.
"You didn't take as much as before." She commented, shifting so she was now sitting next to him rather than atop him.
"No, I didn't." He mused, abruptly taking a stand and strolling to his pantry, where he pulled out a red vial from, dumping it's contents into a tea cup. "I didn't want you to pass out like before. The first time you found me, my hunger was more unkempt than before. A whole month and some odd days without feeding, save for small portions of these vials if I could help it."
"But you didn't look as pale nor did you collapse like you did now." She said, standing up herself. The dizziness was still present, but with a clutch of the wall, she could still stand well. She finally took a look around her, no longer busy with worrying for her mentor. Just like the Mystery Room, his home had an unkempt cleanliness that was surely just his way of living-boxes of newspapers, clippings pinned to the wall that held a variety of cases. Takeout boxes strewn on the kitchen table gave enough notice that he didn't cook, though his food choices were always of variety and more importantly, small. He was lanky, after all.
"Trick of the light, my dear Lucy. It's different than before. I tend to feel a sense of sickness after going back on the habit- essentially what you witnessed today." He responded, sipping into the tea cup and gave a small sound of disgust. "Your blood definitely changes this for me. You're much sweeter, with a tang that I can't quite place."
"Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not, Prof." She couldn't help the blush that sprang to her cheeks-even if he wasn't intentionally being flirty. She shook the thoughts away from her head before she could entertain them. You're just feeling the rush of the blood being taken from you. Stop entertaining such thoughts.
"Take it as you will." He opened his fridge, musing with small sips as he looked. "I do hope that you finish up your contract and renew it. That's when they request that you give me blood in vials, for emergencies like this."
"You're so sure I'm going to stay and even renew the contract, are you?" He finally looked up to her with a shine that Lucy couldn't quite place, like he was both gleeful but also sorrowful at the question. It took him a moment to answer, a coy smile playing upon his features.
"No, I don't. But it's a variable I'm willing to wager on." He downed the rest of the blood in the cup, even going far as to lick the insides. "I don't have any shakes to help your nutrient recovery, so we must go have lunch."
"We're having lunch?" She cocked an eyebrow up, surprised at this development. She had expected that he was to merely use her and then she would leave, going about her business as though blood was not taken from her in excess.
"Of course. That is why I requested for 11 o'clock. I would be remiss if I intentionally let you free without at least a shake in your hand. I may be a vampire, Lucy, but I do take from my father in his gentlemanly mannerisms. Give me a moment to change." Placing the cup down, he strolled away to his, what she could only assume was his bedroom without another word to his confused Detective Constable.