I like a look of Agony,/ Because I know it's true Emily Dickenson // I like a look of Agony

100 years ago in a small town in England, Henry Fitzroy sat in his small house. It had been several decades since he had been back to his home soil, and the air still smelled the same. The smell made Henry glad, and it made him feel like he was really coming home, even there was obviously no way that the life he knew in England at 17 could be reclaimed. Too much had happened in the world for that to happen.

Henry had set himself up as painter in the small village, and with that people generally left him alone. So, while he was in the middle of a large portrait of his sire, he was surprised to hear a knock on his door. He could tell by the smell drifting to his nose, that is was another vampire. He was not too happy with this, and he was hoping he wasn't going to have to fight right now.

Henry grumbled as he put down his brush, and went to the door. He opened it to find a sad looking young man with intense green eyes. The man looked lost, and Henry felt like punishing him now for coming into his territory.

The man smiled a sad sort of smile, "Hi, you are new to the community aren't you?" He looked down instantly after he had said it, as if speaking the words aloud had taken all his courage away.

Henry glared at him for a moment, wondering if this was one of the vampires that acted demur first, but would attack you with vengeance. He blinked his eyes deliberately for a second, like a cat regarding his prey. "Can I help you?" Henry arched his eyebrows, and blinked his eyes again deliberately.

The man smiled like a servant, showing his longer canines. "I think so," He said softly and unassertively.

With that one move, Henry knew the man was no threat. He slammed the door. He went back to painting, hoping the inferior vampire would go away.

There was a softer knock on the door, and the other vampire pushed the door open very cautiously, and slowly. "I wanted to meet you, you seemed like a person who could teach me a lot of things."

Henry threw down his paint brush. "You are pathetic, I should kill you. Didn't your sire teach you anything?"

The man frowned. "My sire didn't teach me anything….I am sorry, please don't kill me, I'll stay out of your way." The vampire fled Henry's house quickly.

---
Present Day

Henry opened the door of the small apartment, one of the detectives of the Metropolis police was behind him.

Vicktor Conrad was sitting at a computer. He turned around, and seemed shocked to see Henry and the detective. He knew Henry would probably find him, he didn't know that Henry had made an agreement with Vicki that Mike would get the first shot at killing Conrad, even if that meant by way of the detectives. It had pained Henry to make the decision, but he knew that she was right on this. If Vicki or Henry killed Conrad, without letting Mike in on it, or letting the police handle it, Mike would never forgive them.

Conrad didn't say anything; he just went with the detective. It was his own fate that the vampire Elise had never taught him anything, and no other vampire would. His obsessive behavior towards humans had also kept him from learning a lot of stuff on his own. The only reason he was so good at hypnotism was the fact that one of his male 'suitors' had been a master of the craft.
---
Vicki sat at her desk examining tattoos that she had gotten from a demon several months back. Coreen sat in one of the wooden chairs in front of Vicki's desk, reading a book on Norse mythology.

"I can't believe you let Henry go by himself to pick up Conrad." Coreen flipped the page, not looking up at her boss.

"We agreed to let the police or Mike handle this. And I really am not in the mood to see Vicktor Conrad's smug face at the moment, because then I would forget the agreement." She put her wrist down; she knew it hadn't changed any. In the beginning, she would imagine that they were slowly disappearing, but that was just an illusion. They probably weren't going to go away anytime soon. At times she hated them, but at times she cherished them because they reminded her of Henry in a peculiar way.

Vicki hated the fact that though she liked Henry, she also liked Mike. There was something about each of the guys that she was attracted to. If she could have her way, she would just have a relationship with them both, but her mind was telling her the universe would find a way to make her pick one over the other. Did she want a life of mortal beings and law, or a life of supernatural beings and surprises?

Vicki was glad she was distracted from the decision by the ringing of the phone. She had a short conversation, and then hung up the phone. "They picked Conrad up, and he is back in custody."

---
Henry crossed his legs, as he sat down on the green couch. Mike sat across the room in the leather chair, sipping from the mug of cocoa that Henry had just made for him. Henry had been surprised when the detective had let him in, but considering the funeral had been today, and the detective had probably been grieving by himself for several days, the mortal was probably in need of contact with the outside world. Henry wasn't going to argue with that. He was going to ask Vicki if she wanted to come with him, but that might be too much tension for the detective. He had hoped his presence would be seen as a stranger Mike could talk to in this crisis, since neither male knew that much about each other.

"When was the last time you ate?" Henry asked concerned.

Mike shrugged, as he set the mug of the end table next to him. He hadn't felt like having a fight when Henry Fitzroy had appeared at his door with groceries.

"I'll fix you something to eat then."

"I am not hungry, plus how do I know you aren't trying to poison me?" Mike's voice was weak, and his heart wasn't completely in the joke.

Henry noticed this, and didn't say anything. He got up, and went into the kitchen, hearing Mike's bare feet following behind him. The vampire actually had a weird fondness for the detective, and he was glad without Vicki as a barrier they were getting along. He hoped that maybe this would last after the detective went through his grief process.

Mike sat on the barstool at the island in the center of the kitchen. He had brought his cocoa with him. He watched Henry as he went through the cabinets, pulling out some of the things that he had brought earlier.

Henry put the large wok, he had brought, on the stove. He pulled in a little oil, and turned on the front burner. "I know you and Vicki like Chinese food. So, that is what I am going to make you."

"Let me guess you lived in China for awhile?" Mike took a sip of cocoa. "Are you going to make me authentic Chinese then?"

Henry only nodded, and began to chop up a large piece of steak into strips. "I did live there for awhile," He chuckled. "What I am going to make is probably more like American Chop Suey, than authentic Chinese but I think you will like it." He threw the strips of steak into the wok. He opened a package of shrimp, and began to process them so he could cook them.

"Can I ask you something?" Mike asked.

Henry began to chop up some vegetables. "Sure."

"I am sure you have experienced a lot of deaths of people you love," Mike paused for a moment as if wondering if he should continue. "How do you handle it where you don't end up shut in your own mind?"