Okay, obviously this is departing from canon to a degree. Anything up to Love Lasts Forever remains, so yeah, Josh is dead, and Beth and Coraline have the same blood type. I may use some of the show's ideas, but I'm putting my own slant on them.

Wow, the response has been so inspiring. Sandrea and Kayla, glad to see more Mick/Coraline supporters. Welcome also, blood bound. Initimate stranger, as always, a big shout-out. Everyone else, thanks so much, and enjoy the story!

Oh, to all JoBe supporters, I think you'll like this one.

New York

When Josef took Beth shopping, she expected a lot of designer threads with prices the size of college educations. She should have remembered the cardinal rule when dealing with vampires, and especially Josef: Expect the unexpected. Driving her personally in a snazzy little sports car, Josef took them out of the main action of the city, to a cluttered stretch of little shops. Josef fed the meter some quarters, looking out of place in his usual Armani in this working class area.

For her part, Beth blended in, wearing jeans, a plain grey t-shirt from her college days, sporting a Stanford baseball cap, her only make-up some light lipstick and a dusting of foundation. If her plebeian look offended His Majesty, for once he kept his mouth shut. Without a word or a look of acknowledgement, Josef bounded across the street, forcing Beth into a jog if she was going to keep up.

Entering a shop simply titled Delaney's Place, the space they entered was cramped but immaculate, rows of clothes shoved together, with a counter and a couple of changing screens fighting for space in the mix. There was one other customer, a middle-aged woman, sorting through some blouses. The woman at the counter, about ten to fifteen years old than the customer, the owner of the place, Beth assumed, kept shooting her shopper annoyed looks. From Beth's own experience in retail during her high school and college days, she read the look loud and clear. Obviously, the lady was taking her sweet time, making a mess, hogging valuable store space, and not buying a single item.

The owner's scowl melted into a grin when she saw Josef. "Hey, good looking. Long time no see." She wrapped him into a bear hug, which Josef warmly returned.

O-kay, Beth thought incredulously. A soft spot for the mortal ones? Where's a camcorder when you need one? Sara was one thing, but in this case, she doubted it was true love.

"Too long, Connie, too long." Giving a gentle squeeze around the waist, Josef pulled away, gesturing to Beth. "This is Beth Turner, the one I was telling you about. Beth, this is Connie Delaney, the best damned retailer in all of New York. Not to mention, a genius with a sewing machine."

"Trying to sweet talk me into slashing my prices, eh?" Connie's dark eyes glittered with amusement. "Like you can't afford the standard, Mr. Big shot." She patted his cheek, her smile for Beth friendly. "Hey, honey. Yep, it's just like Josef said, a real looker. I've got some dresses for you to try on. Don't worry, he already told me your size."

"Oh, really?" Beth raised her eyebrows at Josef. So, according to him, she was a looker, huh? Oh, and he knew her size. This was a lot to process all in one morning. "Well, I'm dying to see what you've got."

"Lucky girl. Well, I always said this one knows how to treat a gal." She winked; obviously under the impression Beth was Josef's new squeeze. Well, that was the message Josef wanted to send, it was just surprising that he was going so far as to dupe people like Connie. Still, knowing the Great and Mighty Kostan, he had his reasons.

It had been two days since Beth signed his contract. The process had taken two hours, Ms. Steel determined that Beth read over every line, every clause. It hadn't been a bad idea, but by the time it was over, Beth's head had been splitting with a headache. She wouldn't have put it past Josef to make it as dry and long-winded as possible, just to be a brat. She'd understood it well enough, but was just grateful she hadn't gone into business law after all. Obviously, not her thing.

Well, now it was over with, and the party was officially started. Since part of her job description was playing the part of a dutiful girlfriend, her and Josef were going to some shin-dig tonight of this billionaire insurance guy. Actually, from what Josef said, she welcomed it. There'd be a lot of vampires at this party, a chance to network, form some contacts. She was under Josef's protection now, and people would be a lot more willing to talk to her if she was a vampire's…whatever.

The first dress Beth tried on was a little number almost reminiscent of the 40's, with a beaded bodice that skimmed her collarbone, a belted waist, a slinky skirt, the material a midnight blue. She stopped, checked her reflection in the mirror, and then stepped out for inspection.

"Too dark…" Connie muttered thoughtfully, examining the whole picture. "The belt is too bulky, not for her."

"You read my mind," Josef replied, shaking his head. "Simply won't do. Next."

"Does anyone care what I think?" Beth retorted.

They shot her down in unison. "No."

"Didn't think so," she grumbled, not bothering to argue. As a matter of fact, she agreed with Connie's evaluation, but she wasn't about to admit it to him.

The next was a simple black top that molded to her skin, a forest green skirt that flowed around her legs, the velvet jacket matching. Beth emerged, expression defensive.

"It looks great on her." Josef's compliment surprised Beth, her eyes widening. "It's just not the right look. If this were a Christmas party at BuzzWire, or a cousin's sweet sixteen, she'd be a hit. But it won't hold up next to the competition. We gotta pull out all the stops."

"He's probably right." Beth sounded like she just gargled with vinegar. "Maybe we should take it anyway, just in case you have to take me out to something a little lower key…" Not to mention, it'd look great on camera when she got back to LA."

"Why not? At these prices, Connie's practically giving them away."

For the party, they ended up settling on an ice blue halter-top dress, the cut flirtatious but staying within the bounds, just a peek of cleavage, the hem brushing her knees. In the words of Josef: "Giving a nice preview without giving everything away." There was an ultra thin layer of glittering fabric sewn into the dress, so Beth sparkled subtly wherever she walked.

"That wasn't so bad," Beth commented cheerfully on the ride home, lacing her hands behind her neck.

Josef, of course, just had to get a crack in. "What were you expecting, the iron maiden?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just thought you'd drag me around for hours, shoot down every option until I had blisters on my feet." She had to admit, she hadn't been this nervous since her first web cast.

"Oh, yes, because it's my dream to be stuck on a shopping expedition with you. I couldn't possibly find a better way to fill in the hours."

"You don't have to be a jerk, Josef," Beth informed him.

There was a moment of silence, then: "You know what your problem is?"

Feeling another headache coming on, Beth rubbed her forehead. "I agreed to work for you?"

"No. You're used to men fawning over you, tripping over their feet because you've got a pretty face and a nice body. Mick's certainly gone out of his way to make sure your tender little feelings are treated with kid gloves. And we all know Josh-"

"Shut the fuck up, Josef!" Beth hissed. That subject was off-limits, her heart and conscience still too raw to deal with it. "That's below the belt even for you."

"Hit a nerve, didn't I? Fine, have it your way. We'll leave you to your ghosts." She started to say something, but he just verbally rolled over her. "The point is, reality's a bitch. You're not the hottest thing since porn. You're physically appealing, no doubt. Beautiful, I'll grant you. Well, be still my heart. Beauty's overrated, I'm surrounded by it all day."

"So being bored gives you license to verbally bitch slap?" Beth asked sarcastically.

"Who needs a license? People are what they are. As a reporter, I would think you'd understand that." There was nothing patronizing or snide in the comment, just matter-of-fact.

"Look, can't we just call a truce? You're not impressed with me, I'm not impressed with you, let's just call it even," Beth suggested. "We've got a common goal, let's just leave it there."

"As absolutely thrilling as these little debates are, you may have a point. I presume you've started on your research? I'm not breathing down your neck, but I do expect updates."

"Nervous? I got us this far, I'll take us all the way," Beth assured him carelessly.

"Don't make empty promises, blondie," Josef warned her intensely. "Not where Sara's concerned. It won't go down well. You're good, but-"

"It might be too late," Beth finished, nodding. "Okay, point taken. But Josef, in a world where vampires play the stock market, anything's possible."

"Touché."

She filled him in on the research she'd already done. Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the smoking gun, but it was a start. It didn't take long for them to get back to Beth's place. Typically Josef, he just got out and headed inside, leaving Beth to cart her purchases in. "And they say chivalry's dead," she snapped when they were both inside.

"You arms don't look broken," he observed pleasantly. "Put them down and come here."

Instantly on her guard, Beth shot him a cautious look. "Why?"

"I need to put my scent on you."

"You make it sound so romantic." Resigned, she put her purchases down, trudged over to Josef. She closed her eyes, prepared to fantasize. His mouth settled over hers, firm and cool, taking her lips with a finesse that shouldn't have surprised her. She found herself responding, deepening the kiss on her own. His arms wound around her waist, drawing her in.

Heat crawled over Beth's skin, her hands restless over Josef's back. Just playing a part, her sluggish brain reassured her, even as she pressed her pelvis against his. Her lower abdomen clutched hard, a tell-tale sign. He felt so good, his body deliciously hard against hers. His hands slipped down, cupping her ass, hauling her tighter against him, forcing her to feel his raging hard-on.

Tossing her head back to gulp in some oxygen, she felt his lips graze her neck, then felt a sharp sting that quickly melted into mind-blowing sensation. "Oh, hell," she whimpered, feeling like her bones were going to melt. She could feel him draw her blood out, feel him suck at the tiny wound he'd given her, a sweet torture that threatened to spin her tattered control out the window altogether.

Disappointment battered her when he pulled away, her nails digging into his shoulder. He soothed her with erotic flicks of his tongue, simultaneously cleaning and enflaming her. She started squirming, trying to get some relief for the ache assaulting her. He gripped her hips, thrusting hard into her, the friction so sweet, but not enough thanks to her jeans and his slacks.

Josef's mouth claimed hers again, and she opened her mouth, welcoming his tongue inside, tangling her own against his. There was a little alarm in the back of her head that screamed: DANGER! She didn't feel like listening.

Laying her onto the sofa, his deft hand pulled her shirt out of the waistband, his fingers creeping up the soft skin of her belly. She arched her back, encouraging him north. She roughly pulled her mouth away, nibbling at his jaw, his ear, her eyes rolling back in her head as they grinded together harder. She swore she was going to come. Josef's growl was a constant hum in her ear, and she reveled in it. She would have been pissed if she was the only one this far gone.

White-hot pleasure gripped her when Josef's hand glided over her bra-clad breasts, molding the silk to the feverish skin, manipulating it over her nipples. She moaned, low and long, wrapping her legs around his waist, wishing their clothes would melt away and he'd slip inside her.

LA

Everyone stopped and stared at the couple stalking down the street, their movements in synch, power rippling off of them. Mick felt the night in all her glory, felt drunk on it. He sensed that he'd denied himself this basic joy, starved himself somehow.

Glancing at the beauty at his side, he felt a surge of affection and awe. She was night personified, nocturne's queen. He couldn't smell his scent on her, knew he'd denied himself even her, his once wife. It felt almost like sacrilege, but if it had ended bad, like she'd admitted, there were reasons for that, whether he could access the memories or not.

They'd spent hours together today, laughing and talking, listening to music, debating over various genres. She'd shown him albums of her photography, regaled him with stories of modern Egypt and Italy, of Hawaii and New Zealand. She'd never mentioned their history in any detail, and that was a can of worms Mick wasn't ready to crack open. He was having too much fun.

While Coraline was making some phone calls and settling her stuff in the bedroom, Mick took a tour around his apartment. It was eerily impersonal; there was nothing sentimental, no signature taste, no big reveals. Stylish, sure, if you liked the sleek modern look and Mick had to admit, everything was well orchestrated, but it had a sterile, lonely feel.

When Coraline came into it, something shifted. Her presence crackled with energy, bringing life and color into the place. She'd hung some of her work up at Mick's encouragement, decorated with some of her antiques, and scattered some candles around, making it feel like a home. She'd made Mick help, and they'd established a kind of rhythm, flowing around each other. He loved how she kept him on his toes, how she could turn ordinary stuff into an adventure.

During the day, she'd gotten a call from someone named Cynthia. "She's practically like a sister to me," Coraline admitted, sounding almost sheepish. "I'm usually not one for girl bonding and all that, but she's always had my back." He sensed his ex-wife didn't have many people in her life period, and wondered if she was as lonely as he sensed he'd been in his own life.

What she had in store for him tonight was anybody's guess, but so far, he had no complaints. The beat of the music vibrated all around them, hot and alive. There wasn't much of a line outside the club, but there was no mistaking the sea of blood that flowed inside, the pulsing of heartbeats. A rush of hunger sliced through Mick, bloodlust threatening to overwhelm him. What the hell was wrong with him? A grown man wasn't just a measly snack. It should have done the trick.

"Coraline." He just said her name, didn't need to say anything else, not with his eyes flashing.

"Don't worry," she assured him, giving him a minute to get it together. "A big crowd like this, of course it's going to work a number on you. Control, Mick, you have it, so use it." She laced her fingers his, squeezing gently. "I won't let you do anything you'll regret, okay?"

"This is normal?"

"Completely." She was totally in her element, and Mick knew as long as he followed her lead, it'd all go down smooth. They joined the small line outside the club, the rope quickly being pulled back for them. Their hands were stamped, and Coraline guided him into the club.

The air was heavy and hot around him, each molecule stroking his skin. Saxophones, guitar, piano and drums all bled together, speaking to a part of Mick's soul. Couples swayed on the dance floor, hormones making their own sweet music. He wanted to dance with Coraline, wanted to feel that graceful body against his, wanted to stare into her hypnotizing eyes.

"May I have this dance?" He stroked his thumb down her jaw, over those pouting lips. She planted a gentle kiss over it.

"Why, Mick, I thought you'd never ask," she teased. They edged their way to the dance floor, claiming a small portion. There wasn't much room to move, which was fine by Mick. He gathered her close, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

The contact felt so good, natural. He rested his chin on her hair, heard her sigh dreamily. They drifted together in a series of uncomplicated steps, the connection between them obvious. Again, people stared, but neither noticed. Mick felt a surge of pride. This sexy, vibrant woman was here with him, had eyes only for him. He didn't notice that she wasn't the only one being ogled, that several females, and a few males, would have been more than happy to go home with him. He was too caught up in Coraline's spell to notice anyone else.

On impulse, he dipped her, earning a startled laugh out of her. He pulled her back up, pressing a casual kiss to her forehead. He wanted her. Hell, who wouldn't? It didn't take a genius to figure Coraline's bed was never cold unless she wanted it that way, but tonight, and for as long as it lasted, she was here with him.

Even though he could tell she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, she hadn't given him the green light. As the elder vampire, every instinct Mick had told him it was her call to take their relationship to the next level, that forcing the issue would go against some elusive code. But for Mick, it went deeper than that. He was a stranger to himself, but he somehow knew he wasn't the kind of guy that pressured a woman, any kind of woman.

Call it a hunch.

They danced for a half an hour, both reluctant to end the moment. Finally, half-heartedly, Coraline inclined her head away in the opposite direction. Resigned, Mick nodded, escorting her off the dance floor. Pressing herself into his side, she whispered into his ear: "Don't worry; I'll make it worth your while."

"That I don't doubt," he retorted playfully. "What's the plan?"

"We're going hunting," she said blithely.

Drawing up short, Mick gave her an incredulous look. "Number 1, we did that already. Number 2, I told you I didn't want to hurt anyone. I doubt anyone here is a profile of evil. What are you-"

"Mick, weren't you listening?" A flicker of irritation crossed her lovely face. "I told you that it wasn't necessary to hurt anyone. It's essential you learn to hunt…both ways."

"I don't need to feed right now," he protested, not knowing why he was fighting this so hard. "I got plenty earlier."

"Whether you need the nourishment is beside the point," she explained patiently, her irritation short lived. "You need to learn how to feed in this way, unless you want to go back to the bagged stuff." His expression spoke volumes. "I didn't think so. Come on."

They wound their way through a throng of occupied tables, Coraline's eyes scanning the place for a potential meal. Mick had a feeling the night was about to get much more interesting.