Author's notes: Bet you guys are wondering about that issue with them always being cold, huh? Bet you want me to answer that question, don't you? I guess...you'll just have to wait...-cue evil laughter-

Shattered specks of glass on tarmac, glittering like an ocean of brilliant white stars. That was what greeted Tod as he woke, reaching a desperate bloodied hand for the sky, crying out for aid he knew would never come. In that universe of glass and blackened road stepped a man with stringy blonde hair. And in his delirium, Tod wondered whether this was some forgotten archangel or the devil himself. When the man grinned down at him with eyes brighter than flying sparks, he realized it was definitely the latter. So, with nothing left to do, Tod screamed.

"It's so empty out here," Star finally broke the silence. For several minutes they'd simply sat together in the car together, listening to the radio station as it struggled to maintain a solid signal in-between bursts of static and classic Tejano music. Sometimes they could go hours without saying anything, and she'd find lights to train her eyes on as a distraction and make the time go by faster. But tonight, the silence was deafening.

"You were the one who wanted to take this road."

"Michael, I'm not trying to blame you. I'm just making conversation." Star reached under her seat to pull out her shawl. There were a few spots of blood on it, but surprisingly not much more than that, momentarily distracted from the road ahead of them.

"Ah...right. Sorry. I'm just a bit stressed...that deer in the car, that asshole at the gas station...the fact that we both just drank fucking vampire blood again..."

"Yeah. I know." Star wrapped her shawl about her shoulders and settled back in her seat. The sooner they found a church to hide in for awhile, the better. All of this driving was making her stir crazy. And a part of her hoped that maybe, somehow, being somewhere surrounded with crosses and holy objects, she'd be able to ignore the hunger she could already feel begin to return and gnaw at the pit of her stomach.

It was kind of funny, looking back on the first time; in the beginning she'd just thought she was coming down with some kind of bug. She could still remember the way David smiled at her as he pressed the bottle to her lips, promised her a night she wouldn't forget. Of course, Star really had no idea what that entailed. She was just swept away by the attention from this crazy stranger with his bike and attitude. God, how cliche. And really, pretty damn stupid, even if he hadn't turned out to be a vampire. Maybe she wasn't really that much older now, but Star could confidently say she felt like she'd aged a decade in that one summer she'd thought herself at the gates of heaven before she was suddenly drug through hell. At least she could say Laddie was safe. From the few calls she'd made to his family once in awhile, it seemed like The Lost Boys had decided to leave him alone.

Maybe this time she'd do things differently. Though, honestly, Star had no clue what that would be. The only thing she could do was fight back, when they decided they were tired of the chase. Because, really, it seemed less and less likely that she and Michael were really getting any further unless David was letting them. The deer in the car was evidence enough of that.

Fight. Back. How would she even begin? And would it really do her or Michael any good?

"What are you thinking about?" Michael quietly interrupted Star's thoughts, pressing a free hand to her shoulder and messaging it in small, gentle strokes. It felt nice. Even though neither of them could let anything come from these little gestures of intimacy they offered each other in comfort, Star couldn't deny she very much enjoyed them.

"Nothing," Star shook her head, "I'm not thinking of anything."

"Really?" He sounded doubtful. "You've got that sad look on your face you always get when we talk about David. Just don't, Star. Live in the moment. It's a lot easier that way."

"Gosh. When did you get so deep?" She teased.

Michael rolled his eyes, "okay, make jokes. If that's what gets you through the night, go ahead." He let his hand fall from her shoulder and re-adjusted his grip on the steering wheel.

"I wasn't thinking of David," Star insisted, quietly.

"Okay. You weren't thinking of David. I give up. You win."

"No, I mean it...I was..." She looked out the window and then back towards Michael with a slight teasing smile playing on her lips, "I was thinking about that guy back at the gas station. He seemed pretty fun."

"..."

"Michael?"

"You want me to turn back and drop you off? Let you two screw around a bit?" He made as if to turn the wheel and Star leaned over to grab it, laughing.

"Alright! I was thinking of David! Are you happy?" She kept her hand on his, not quite meeting Michael's eyes (because he was still focused on the road ahead).

Michael feigned a sigh, "and I thought you were thinking about me."

"...What?"

"I said-"

Their flirting was abruptly cut short by the sound of a loud screech on the roof of the car, followed by several thumps as if someone was stomping around, and finally, Michael was forced to slam on the breaks by the sight of a bloodied and mangled body rolling onto the hood. The car nearly spiraled out of control in the process, dragging white streaks and swathes of white smoke over the road, and sending spatters of mud into the air as the back wheels just barely carved out a hunk of ground just to the right of the shoulder.

"MICHAEL!" Star yelled, bracing herself against her door.

She decided to stay in the car and recover her breath, while Michael got out of the car and paced. Once the smoke had settled, and the engine was killed, he'd become livid. Maybe at the situation. Maybe at the Lost Boys, because there was no doubt in his mind they were the reason a body had come crashing down on the car hood and nearly gotten them killed. If they could be killed...maybe he was mad at a combination of things. Hell, he was even mad at the fact that he was mad!

"Michael..." Star called out, slowly pushing open her car door and putting shaky feet to the ground.

"What? What is it?" He turned around from his position at the back of the car, exasperated and red in the face as he ran his hands through his hair and pressed them to the side of his head.

Star nodded towards the body that had fallen several dozen feet behind them, twisted and bloodied, limbs facing at what looked like impossibly painful angles, were the man in question still alive.

"He's dead, Star! What do you want me to do about it?!"

"I want you to make sure..." She trailed off, looking down at her feet.

"Don't do this," Michael ground out, letting his hands fall to his sides.

"Don't do what?"

"Don't act like I'm about to fucking hit you! Stop staring at the ground like that, Star! Look at me!"

She tossed her hair back, blinking several times as she met his gaze. "I know you're not going to hit me, Michael."

"Well..." He sighed, slowly crossing around to her side of the car until he was standing just a few feet away from her, his hands held out, "that's how you make me feel when you do that, okay? I'd never hit a woman. And...I'd never hit you."

"We're a bit of a mess, aren't we?" Her lips twitched, whether it was an attempt to smile or frown, he couldn't tell.

"Yeah...we are. But I'll check the body, if that's what you really want me to do."

"It is."

"Even though it's stupid, and that's probably what they want...ten to one, they're just waiting for me to walk right over there so they can fly down and grab us both-"

"Just check on him, Michael. Please. I want to make sure. I need to know."

He took Star's hands into his and gave them a gentle squeeze before reluctantly pulling away and beginning the seemingly endless walk towards the twisted corpse lying on the ground. In the last two years, other than a scare here or there...a message scrawled on the car in the morning, a quick glimpse of the boys just outside of a church window, maybe some taunting laughter in the air...there'd been relatively little of the Lost Boys in their lives. Some nights, Michael could almost make himself believe he'd simply become a gypsy and joined Star on the open road for the hell of it. But all it took was the last two days to remind him that he was just fooling himself. Maybe this wouldn't have happened tonight if he hadn't forgotten to get gas the day before...he couldn't honestly say it wouldn't have happened eventually.

When he knelt beside the body, he could just barely make out a few details about the man's identity. Namely the bolo tie. Everything else was too torn up and bloodied to really tell. 'Fuck. What kind of sick message is this?!' He screwed up his courage and gingerly leaned down to press two fingers against the man's neck, and waited. He counted to five. Nothing. And then, just as he was about to retrieve his fingers and call it quits, there was the gentle flutter of something beneath the skin...fading...but...it was there. A pulse.

And then he really looked at the man lying in front of him, took it all in. The combination of the smell of the blood, and the feel of a dying life beneath his hand...god, he hated to think about it. Because...because it reminded him of that night on the beach. When David and the others had murdered, drank their fill, played games with their meals while he was practically forced to watch. And maybe if he hadn't been through this before, it wouldn't affect him much as it did now, but he felt as if he was being pulled down towards the man's neck...dragged by an insanely heavy weight on his back. he wanted to fight it. He really wanted to. He knew he needed to, anyway. But, oh god...it just smelled so good...and if the deer blood he'd tasted on his lips earlier had been anything to judge by, Michael just knew this would taste a thousand times better. A hundred thousand. A million...

"Michael," a gentle whisper pressed against him. Was it David? Was it Star? He couldn't tell. He didn't care, anyway. He was too hungry too listen. He was too tired to fight it.

"Michael!"

He ignored the voice and pulled his lips back, ran his tongue along his teeth...his gums ached unbearably. Something intense was about to happen, and he wasn't exactly sure what, because he was too far gone to really think right now. A thrill ran down his spine at the thought...that whatever was happening right now, he didn't know, but he was going to love it...

And then he was suddenly jerked back to himself by an intense pain in his arm. Michael cried out, shaking his head and pushing himself back away from the body in horror, falling in a heap on top of Star, who's mouth was embedded deep in his sleeve. She was desperately clinging to him, eyes wide in fear and anger.

"Star..." Michael shook his head, as she finally pulled away and wiped a bit of drool from her mouth, smiling sheepishly. She hadn't broken the skin, but it still fucking hurt. Which was just as well, when he realized what she'd just stopped him from doing.

"You here? You back with me?" She asked, climbing out from beneath him and pressing a hand to Michael's forehead.

"You sure know how to get a guy's attention," Michael snorted.

"I think maybe..." Star licked her lips, "you were right. We should have stayed in the car."

At that moment, crouched together beside the bloodied man, who had finally taken his last breath...Star and Michael laughed. They weren't really sure why...but they definitely needed it. And when the laughter finally faded into short, soft gasps between them, there didn't seem to be much else to do but pull each other in for a deep, breathless kiss. After all, who knew if they'd ever get a second chance like this?

"Ohhhhh, so close!" Marko snapped his fingers, an exaggerated expression of disappointment on his face. He wasn't too terribly upset, though. This meant he was still in the running on the bet. Whether Michael or Star would cave first. Because sooner or later, one of them was going to.

"This doesn't count. This doesn't count. She butted in! I should've won!" Paul protested, throwing his hands up in the air.

They were all safely hidden above in the darkness, shadowed by David's gentle urging in Star's and Michael's minds not look up. Now that they'd finally gotten some of his blood in them, it was far easier to make little subtle suggestions to sway them. Like convincing Star it was a good idea to check on a dead man covered in blood, when that was the last thing either of them should be within a hundred feet of if they expected to last very long. But somehow she'd managed to summon the strength to keep Michael from the prize. She'd definitely changed. There was no doubt about that.

"So, what's the plan now?" Dwayne turned towards David, not too terribly surprised to see a very slight twist in their leader's lips. He was getting irritated...probably didn't intend to drag it out too much longer, if the kids didn't give in. But that was just as well. His bet was on David losing his temper...so Dwayne was fairly certain he was going to win in the long run.

"We'll just have to step it up a little," David decided.

"Waste of a good meal..." Marko looked down at the body, mournfully. A dead one was nowhere near as good as a living, thrashing victim.

David focused his gaze on the pair below, that timeless smug grin appearing on his face, "sweet dreams..." And he urged the thought to enter both of their minds, just subtly enough to make them pull away from their kiss and speed up their progress back to the 'safety' of the car. What a joke. The only way they'd ever truly be safe was the night they finally gave in. Frankly, he could take them whenever he wanted, but David wanted to be sure they both knew their places before they were finally brought back into the family, where they belonged. If a bit of psychological torture was what it took, then so be it.