"It's time we got up, don't you think?"
"Mmm… nope." Maura shook her head negative and wrapped herself more closely around Nick where they lay in bed.
"You're kidding… the sun will be setting soon."
Maura peeked out from the covers and saw he was right, she could see the light through the upslanted blinds of the west-facing bedroom window. Shortly after they'd moved in she'd figured out that by aiming the blinds up, instead of down, the sunlight could be directed at the ceiling instead of into the room. The indirectly reflected light could brighten the room, but couldn't harm Nick. It wasn't something that had occurred to her in Toronto, but now that they weren't surrounded by warehouse buildings the sunlight had become more apparent, and important, to her. And Nick loved being surrounded by natural light; it had been so many lifetimes since that had been possible.
Now, though, Maura wished she'd nailed plywood over the windows so they could remain as they'd been since not long after their return from the bar -- and from there, the backyard. Last night, after their confrontation outside that ended in tears and blood, for the first time in so long they came together quietly, not seized with that desperate madness that had consumed them so often before, not in sadness or seeking comfort or offering reassurance but secure in each other. It was as if the many detours and endless angst and recent losses had happened to someone else. Like normal people, who maybe had just been apart for too long. They had been, in a way, but here was a life they'd found not in spite of who they were or where they came from, but because of who they wanted to be and where they'd come home to at last. Maybe for the first time ever Maura had given in to the romantic "afterglow" that Nick had long lamented she seemed immune to; she welcomed every loving word and gesture she'd once thought of as unnecessary. Suddenly she was reluctant to give it up for something as mundane as everyday activity.
"Let it set; it does it every night. It's not like we have jobs to go to."
She was actually starting to pout, Nick could hear it in her voice and realized it was a very new inflection for her.
"Funny you should mention that," he told her as he gently pried himself from her surprisingly strong grip, "as a matter of fact I was planning on going into town and tracking down Doug to talk about that excavation work he mentioned."
"Later," she insisted, nuzzling his neck.
"Now you're stealing my lines… and my act," Nick pulled away, laughing, and slid out of bed. His clothes (and hers) lay scattered about the floor where they'd been flung the night before and for the moment he stood naked by the window, smiling in affectionate amusement at Maura's stubborn refusal to greet the evening.
It was moments like these that took her breath away. Seeing him casual and utterly unselfconscious, bathed by the subtle glow of the fading sun, he was the most beautiful thing she could imagine. His rumpled golden hair was echoed by the fine down of his arms, legs, and groin. His skin shone pale and translucent as white jade and just as flawless, unmarked by the scars of sword, dagger, and arrow he'd borne in life that his long-ago transformation had erased. An eternally youthful face that expressed so much through deep blue-grey eyes, the only part of him marked by the centuries. So painfully beautiful Maura could scarcely believe he was so completely hers, even after he'd shared the blood that joined them to the core.
"Come back," she pleaded and added, "I'll make it worth your while..."
"Hussy," Nick gasped, feigning outrage as he went to slip on his robe.
As always, the fragile moment evaporated in laughter, until next time.
"Well you knew that when you 'married' me," she reminded him as she rolled and stretched in what she hoped was an inviting manner. "Besides, after years of complaining of a deficit of warm fuzzies I've practically buried you in them and now you just wanna prance off for a night with the boys."
Nick cocked an eyebrow. "I think you're mixing your metaphors." He sat on the bed, dodging her groping hands. "Come on, be reasonable… I mean understanding. You know I've wanted something new to do with myself, even before we left Toronto."
"I can think of something to do with yourself."
"I said new." He bent and kissed her, then backed away to gather up his clothes from the floor. "Don't you want me to be able to wear this stuff for real, instead of just doing the 'Village People' thing?"
"Now you're mixing your metaphors… I hope! " She pulled Nick's shirt from his hands and slipped it over her head, finally dragging herself out of bed. "Though after last night I don't guess I have much to worry about."
"I aim to please," Nick winked. "Before I go I'll take a shower," he headed for the bathroom and warned Maura away with, "alone!"
"And you call yourself a despoiler of innocence," she griped, and padded downstairs to make some coffee for herself and get a bottle from the fridge for Nick. Absorbed in setting up the electric kettle and the French press, Maura jumped a mile when she heard the knock at the back door. The back door? Cautiously she put the back light on and peered out the mudroom window. A young man stood there, vaguely familiar, though she couldn't place him.
"Yes? What can I do for you?" Instinctively she pulled the collar of Nick's shirt closer around her neck to hide the marks that were undoubtedly not completely faded.
"Hi, I'm Eric Nadeau, Sherry's brother?" Jesus, she looked like he'd just wakened her. Then again, if he was right, and he knew he was, they didn't exactly keep regular hours did they? "I'm sorry, I guess I should have called first. Can I have a couple minutes of your time? I just want to talk for a minute."
He seemed okay, but who knew? After her performance last night she wouldn't be surprised if there weren't at least one loser who'd try to take advantage of what he assumed was a shaky relationship, but this one seemed a little young. And it wasn't exactly a stone's throw to town.
"Okay." Before she unlocked the door she remembered all she was wearing was Nick's shirt so she put on the long trench coat that was hanging on the hook by the door, and cinched it like a bathrobe.
"Come in," she stood aside to let him pass, "Nick is upstairs in the shower." No sense letting him think she was there alone. He looked embarrassed.
"Don't worry, I'm not here for shady reasons, but I think we need to talk."
Now she placed him, she saw him behind the bar last night. "Ah, shit, if this is about me getting drunk and disorderly, I'm really sorry, it just wasn't my night…"
They were standing in the kitchen now, but he hadn't sat down in the chair she pulled out. "Look, there's no sense dancing around it. I'm here because you're like me, and I think we should talk about it."
Like him? "What do you mean I'm 'like you'? Not from around here, you mean?" But he and Sherry had grown up here, or so Nick had said at some time or other. He'd mentioned Sherry had a brother, though he'd never met him.
Eric shook his head. There really was no way to be casual about this, was there? "Your blood. It attracts them, it addicts them, it's like a drug. Mine too."
Shocked, Maura took an involuntary step back. "What the hell are you talking about?" she protested, brain whirling a mile a minute. He had to be jerking her around… then again how would he know about the blood, the attraction, the addiction? He wasn't a vampire, that she was sure of, so maybe he was telling the truth... and if he was… oh god, he'd know about Nick too, but Nick had never met him, he'd never been within that sixth-sense range. But how could he tell about her? She wouldn't know there was anything at all unusual about Eric, how did he know about her? Suddenly she was aware of the shower turning off upstairs, Nick's footsteps as he got dressed and ready to go out. If Nick got too close, Eric would know what he was and they'd be ruined. Or if he flew down the stairs to amuse her, or asked for a shot of O positive straight up, or... she wanted to scream, to rage. Things were finally finding their own way, why did this have to happen now?
She pointed to the door and demanded, "Go, you have to go, you can't do this now," and seeing he was going to try to explain further Maura grabbed Eric by the arm and dragged him to the back door. "Come back in half an hour or so… when you see the Caddy's gone from the driveway. We'll talk then, okay?" She had no idea how he'd gotten to their place and didn't care, as long as he left before Nick came downstairs.
"Okay." Eric wasn't quite sure why she was so panicked. Didn't she understand he knew about both of them? Rather than argue he did as she asked, loped out to his car where he'd parked it behind a stand of trees up the dirt road that was used as an access road to the back meadows.
Nick found Maura in the kitchen. "What's with the raincoat, Sweet? Expecting a storm?"
"Got cold," she answered a little shakily, hoping he'd take it for being chilled. He did.
"Don't worry, I'll warm you up later I promise." He gave her a bear hug and a kiss. "Hey, when I come home again I might just be gainfully employed."
"Oh good," she managed to joke, "we're down to our last hundred and fifty million. I've been wondering how we'd keep the wolves from the door."
"Try silver bullets," he called over his shoulder as he went out the front way. "I may be a few hours."
"Okay." Then she hurried to the door. "I love you!" It felt like a talisman.
He stopped before getting in the Caddy. "Lucky me. What a coincidence, I love you too." He jumped in the car and roared off.
"Lucky me," she echoed as she went back in the house to await Eric's return, hoping all that luck would hold out long enough for them to enjoy it.
As he drove toward town Nick smiled to himself. This was feeling more and more like a second chance for him in so many ways, for both of them really. That deep, hopelessly romantic part of him that was such a source of amusement to others convinced him they could be falling in love with each other again, this time away from all that darkness and pain that first brought them together. This existence came by choice, not desperation or default, and she was with him for the same reason. He was content to keep these thoughts to himself, knowing the affectionately cynical response they'd draw from Maura (though he knew for a fact she shared them). Then a voice, definitely not his own, sang in a faux Marlene Dietrich accent:
"Falling in love again…"
Nick's eyes snapped up to the rearview mirror. The crew-cut silhouette was unmistakable. He should have known even an overdose of high-octane booze couldn't have persuaded Maura to conjure a hallucination so unwelcome. He drove on in silence, too stunned even to pull the car over as the singing stopped and the too-terribly-familiar voice continued with exaggerated casualness,
"Going my way, Nicholas?"