Hey guys!

I got a lot more reviews than normal last chapter and I want to thank you all so much! You are all wonderful and I love you with all my heart! Haha, so many of you were rightfully really angry with Eric last time so I am making it up to you by including Godric and some pent up frustration in this chapter. I have managed to update much quicker than expected and I'm hoping that this streak of productivity will continue.

And to those of you who gave me feedback on Eric after I asked for some - thank you so much, you are stars!

Rated M: Action, swearing, alcohol and scenes of a (mildly) sexual nature.

As always, constructive criticism is welcome!

Enjoy!

Chapter Ten

I woke up slowly; snuggled up in a warm blanket on a bed that was so soft it was like I was lying in marshmallow fluff. I sighed contently and buried my face deeper in the pillows, not willing to wake up yet. It was strange; my bed was not normally this comfortable; it was far more lumpy and creaked like an old house. Now that I thought about it, I couldn't remember how I had even gotten into bed last night. I cast my mind back to the evening before, trying to think about the last thing I remembered doing…

I sat bolt upright in the bed, fear and panic making my heart pound like a drum. I looked wildly around the room and realised that I was still in the hotel, in Godric's suite, to be exact. I gulped. Taking deep, steadying breaths I tried to calm myself down and think.

Yesterday, I had made a terrible mistake. Drinking Eric's blood? What in the living hell had I been thinking? I groaned deeply and tried to lie back down when my arm brushed something hard and solid. My head whipped around with a crack to see a body lying next to me. Screaming loud enough to wake the dead, I toppled ungraciously off the bed, landing in a heap on the plush carpeted floor.

Hyperventilating and finding it increasingly difficult not to panic, I peered cautiously up over the side of the bed. There, lying as still as a statue, was Godric. He was lying on his back, hands folded peacefully over his stomach and a serene look on his face. He looked so… young and almost carefree, like he didn't have centuries of pain burdening him. He looked almost normal - your average college student. Almost. He was eerily still, his chest not moving; eyes not fluttering beneath his eyelids, unnaturally pale. He looked, well; he looked like a dead body. It terrified me.

I immediately freaked out. It was all too much. I didn't know whether it was vampires in general that I couldn't handle, or just Godric and Eric but either way I didn't want to find out. I was making one bad decision after another since meeting them and they were dangerous decisions too, not stupid things like sleeping with the sleazy looking guy at the bar. This was it. I was done – it didn't matter that I liked Godric or that I was strangely drawn to him. It didn't matter that he had saved my life or that he seemed so strong yet strangely fragile at the same time. I was out – I did not need this drama in my life. I sprinted out the hotel and didn't look back, thanking every deity I knew of that it was daytime and Godric hadn't been awake.

It was two days later and I stood outside the entrance of Firehouse 28. This was it. This would be the last time I would walk through these doors. I stared up at the red, fading letters above the entrance and tried not to get teary eyed.

I couldn't believe how far I had come. Two years ago, I had walked up to these same doors, nineteen years old, fresh out of the academy and desperate to prove myself. Now, I was living my dream, saving lives and risking death every day with my childhood friend at my side. I couldn't believe it was all ending because the state decided that too much money was being invested into firehouses. What a waste.

I didn't want to move back to Bon Temps – it was in the middle of nowhere and nothing ever happened. There had been a reason Jesse and I moved to a big city instead of staying at home. I sighed deeply, still reluctant to step inside for the last time.

There was a lot I was going to miss about Dallas and this building came to symbolise everything that I was leaving behind. My new friends, my life, the independence I had established for myself, Godric – no! No, Milia, just no – do not go there. I couldn't help it though, my mind flashed back to the steamy dream I had experienced last night. It had included both Godric and Eric in a very large bed with me. I felt my face start to burn a deep crimson and had to start lightly fanning myself; I really didn't need to get so hot and bothered at work.

"Hey, Milia, wait up!"

I turned around and saw Jesse jogging up to me, lugging both our bags on one broad shoulder. We had decided to walk into the firehouse for the last time together, the same way we had first gone in.

"Man, I can't believe this is really happening. God, its just so unfair." Jesse looked mournfully up at the building, staring at it in the same contemplative way I had been. The bright morning sun beat down on us, illuminating Jesse's figure and bringing out the auburn and gold highlights in his effortlessly tousled hair. He turned to look at me and, upon catching sight of my still blushing complexion, frowned in concern. "Are you all right? I think you could be getting sick – you're really red." His furrowed brow smoothed out and he cracked lighthearted grin, "unless you're thinking of a dirty dream."

I blanched, caught off guard by his joke and how close to the truth it was. I tried to recover quickly but it was too late; Jesse had caught my reaction.

"Oh my god!" He exclaimed, smiling widely. "You were thinking of a dirty dream!" His smile morphed into a sly smirk. "Who did it involve? Matt from the academy? Oohh, no, what about Helena from high school?"

"Stop," I whined, drawing out the syllable, face burning even brighter, if that was possible. I tried to hide my face in my hands while attempting to land soft blows on Jesse's shoulder.

He laughed loudly and bent down to peer up at me, pressing his face close to mine and making me go slightly cross-eyed.

"Or maybe you were dreaming about that barista you like?"

I let out another long embarrassed whine, spinning away from Jesse dramatically. "At least I don't have crushes on old women!"

Jesse shouted in indignation, stomping his foot like a toddler. "She wasn't an old woman! I told you – she was forty and she happened to think I was a great boyfriend."

I snorted. "A great lay more like!"

Jesse howled in protest, diving forward and hooking his arm around my neck before dragging me down and holding me in place. "I am an excellent boyfriend. Women fall all over themselves to get some action with me."

I tried beating furiously at his chest but it was futile. "I'll believe it when I see it," was my muffled reply.

"Kent! Taylor! Stop acting like children and get your asses in here." The loud, demanding voice of Chief Jones cut through the air, effectively ending our scuffle.

The first few hours of our shift passed mostly uneventfully. The ambulance had a mildly interesting call about a bar fight but our time was mostly spent saying heartfelt goodbyes and packing up the last of our stuff.

Most of our firehouse had lived in Dallas all their lives and had families to take care of. They were being sent to other firehouses in the local area, where there were job vacancies. They couldn't afford to, nor did they want to, relocate to another city, which meant that all the available fire-fighter vacancies left in Dallas went, rightfully, to them.

This left the remaining five of us with a choice. We could either stay in Dallas and find other jobs until a vacancy opened up or we could move to another firehouse in a different city. Sadly, all the other big cities were facing budget cuts similar to ours and had no available openings, leaving us with a limited number of understaffed firehouses in the hottest, most desolate towns. Getting a different job wasn't an option for us; fire fighting was in our blood.

By some strange twist of fate, Bon Temps had been the firehouse with the most vacancies and, due to poor funding, covered the largest area. The district we were delegated to was five times bigger than our district in Dallas, which meant we would see a fair amount of action but had the disadvantage of giving us slower response times and a lot of extra work. We all agreed, however, that having extra work was far better than having not enough – we hated sitting on our asses all day, doing nothing but twiddling our thumbs.

I didn't know when we had all decided that we were going to move to Bon Temps together, it seemed like we had all just naturally come to a unanimous decision. Chief Jones, Mckinnely, Sanchez, Jesse and I were the only ones without family tying us down to Dallas, and, seeing as the firehouse had become like a second family to most of us anyway, it made sense to move together.

I was yanked out of my thoughts by a loud beeping noise. A crackly voice blared through the firehouse's speakers. "Truck 28, Squad 6. House fire. 34 Ross Avenue."

Our last call as Firehouse 28.

We immediately went into action, striding confidently to the trucks and slipping our gear on with ease. Gone were the teary eyes and soft laughs from five minutes ago, instead replaced by stern looks of determination and anticipation. We had all gone into fire-fighting mode now and nothing short of death was going to pull us out of it until our job was done.

"Are you sure you can handle this, Kent? You've had a rough few days and no one would blame you if you decided to sit this one out," Sanchez, our lieutenant, asked, peering at me with sympathetic eyes. We were in the truck now, speeding through traffic to get to our location in good time.

"Yeah, I'm fine, or I will be with some time. This is what I need right now – I need to throw myself back into work; I need the routine. I can't just sit at home all day, left alone with my thoughts."

He grinned ruefully, "I thought you would say that. I was just checking."

I smiled back then turned to stare out of the window, watching as Dallas blurred past the windows.

Soon, the unmistakable scent of black smoke clogged the air. Our truck pulled up in an abrupt stop outside a quaint, two-storey house. A small crowd had gathered to watch from street, faces a mixture of fear and excitement. Already we could see that the fire had progressed a lot further than we ideally wanted, orange flames licking at the windows and consuming the small structure. We piled out of the truck, crowding around Chief and awaiting our orders.

"Ok, we're going to have to be quick. Sanchez, I want you and Truck to lead the search upstairs but be quick, we don't have time to check every nook and cranny. Chang, I want you to lead Squad downstairs and do a preliminary search there. This is an old house and likely has a basement, I want Squad to search it but only, and I mean only, if you deem safe enough."

Chief nodded and we set to work, all of us feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline start pumping through our blood.

"Kent, Taylor, you're with me upstairs. Mckinnely, Brett and Mori, I want you to work the ladder and start tackling the flames to the left of the building. We don't want this fire to start spreading."

We all nodded and got into position. I followed behind Sanchez and Jesse, pulling my mask in place and waiting for Squad to kick the door in so we could rescue any potential victims.

Chang, the lieutenant that ran Squad, kicked the door open with one, firm foot. We were all immediately engulfed in a wave of intense heat and it was only through years of experience that we didn't stagger back from it.

"Remember, move quickly," Chang said, before striding confidently inside. The rest of Squad and the remainder of Truck followed after him, all of us moving swiftly and carefully.

Jesse and I followed Sanchez up the stairs, unable to see past the top due to the thick cloud of smoke. The heat was stifling, suffocating, but I barely noticed, too used to it now. At first, it had been really difficult to handle the heat; my first instinct had been to run from the intense feelings of claustrophobia it instilled. Eventually, however, I had managed to build up an immunity to it.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Sanchez directed Jesse and I into different rooms before striding down the hallway and entering what looked like the master bedroom.

Jesse and I nodded at each other before separating, Jesse walking into a bedroom close by while I went off down the hallway in the opposite direction Sanchez had gone in.

"Got an unconscious male and female in the master bedroom, I'm going to need a hand getting them out." Sanchez's voice crackled over the radio, sounding strained.

"Bathroom and second bedroom are clear, I'm on my way, Sanchez," Jesse's voice responded.

I reached the end of the hallway and pushed the creaking door open. It looked like a children's bedroom, the walls were light blue and there was a bunk bed in the corner. The smoke was a lot less thick in here and I could see far more clearly.

"Fire Department, call out!" I shouted but received no response. I opened the closet door and peered inside but didn't find anyone. Maybe the children had gotten out already.

"Pull out, now. The smoke's turning too dark, the house is going to blow soon." Chief's orders sounded through my radio and fell flat in the smoke logged room. I decided to check under the bed, the only other place in the room a person could hide, before following his orders.

Getting on my hands and knees, I peered into the darkness. The floor under the bed was littered with candy wrappers and toys, a small pile of blankets shoved in the corner – all typical of a children's room. Thinking that it was empty, I started to stand up again when a small flicker of movement under the blankets caught my eye. Dread flooded through my veins and I shuffled forward, lifting a soft, yellow blanket up to find a small child huddled under it. Shit.

Aware of the pressing time limit, I picked up my radio. "Hey guys, I got a kid here, I'm going to need a ladder rescue from the last window on the right of the building, top floor – we're not going to make it down the stairs in time."

"You got it, Kent," came Mckinnely's reply.

"Hey, sweetie," I turned back to the child, "we have to get out of here, do you think you could come out from under there?"

Big brown eyes peered fearfully up at me before the child whimpered and buried themselves deeper into the blankets, clearly terrified.

"Come on now, don't be scared, it's not safe here and we need to leave."

No response.

I was starting to panic now; the smoke was so thick I didn't know how the kid was still conscious. Shit, shit, shit. I could hear my radio crackling to life, Chief's urgent voice coming through, telling me that I needed to get out now. I ignored him.

Obviously whatever I was doing wasn't working; I needed a new plan. Catching sight of the Captain America shirt the child was wearing, an idea hit me.

"Hey, you like Captain America?" I asked gently, giving the child a big smile that I hoped was free from panic.

The child nodded.

"That's great! Me too. I know everything's really scary right now, but you have to remember what Captain America would do. Do you remember in the movie when Captain America is rescuing his friend Bucky?"

The child lifted their head and nodded and I could see them clearly for the first time. She was a little girl, no older than three with a small curly afro and wide eyes.

"Do you remember how they were really scared and how there was a lot of fire there too, but they kept going anyway and they refused to leave each other behind?"

She nodded again.

"Well, that's like us. I need you to be brave like Captain America and come out from under the bed so we can escape together."

The little girl hesitated before nodding again. She started crawling towards me slowly, careful not to hit her head. Her little arms were shaking badly, and she was wheezing from the smoke. My heart broke at the sight but I didn't let it distract me. As soon as she was within reach of my arms, I scooped her up and bundled her under my coat, trying to protect her from the smoke, and shielding her with my body.

The flames were in the bedroom now, slithering through the doorway and reaching for us. We only had seconds now.

"Mckinnely, is my ladder here?" I asked over the radio, racing to the window and quickly lifting the latch before opening it as wide as it could go.

He didn't bother responding as I had managed to open the window wide enough to fit through and I could see him clearly. The ladder wasn't quite as close as it needed to be for me step onto it but it was close enough for me to pass him the child. Mckinnely spared me a relieved grin before taking the little girl and swiftly moving back, carrying her down the ladder with him.

I could feel the flames were behind me now, threatening to engulf me and searing my back with their fierce heat. My hair stood up on end and I felt a chill pass down my spine, despite the burning atmosphere, and somehow, I instinctively knew that it was now or never for me. The house was exploding and this was it.

Normally, you are supposed to wait for the ladder to be cleared before you could climb down it but that obviously wasn't a reality for me at that moment. If I waited I would die.

I could see Sanchez's anxious face through the window as he climbed up the ladder in attempt to aid me. I could see the orange flames reflected in his eyes as the room exploded behind me and I launched myself from the window, desperately hoping I had enough momentum to reach the ladder instead of falling to my death.

For one terrifying moment I was suspended mid air. My heart stopped. I hadn't made it. I didn't jump far enough. Then I felt my body slam into the edge of the ladder, crushing my ribs and winding me. Reflexively I gripped onto whatever I could find as I slid backwards and it saved my life. Somehow, I had jumped with just enough force to grab onto the ladder.

For a few alarming moments I dangled precariously from the ladder, swinging wildly from the force of my jump and the explosion behind me, as well from my struggles to pull myself back up. Then Sanchez reached me and I felt his firm hands help drag me back up to safety.

We both lay there for a moment, too relieved to move before I let out a breathless, astonished laugh. He stared at me for a moment and then, to my surprise, his face lit up in a wide grin as he laughed with me, just as overcome as me.

I was alive. I had made it.

"Fuck." I swore quietly under my breath as I dropped yet another plate, watching it fall to the ground and shatter. That was the third one in ten minutes.

"Dammit, Lia, get it together," Jesse joked from the other room where he was trying (and failing) to assemble a coffee table. I rolled my eyes at his nickname for me, still finding it ridiculous even ten years later that he felt the need to give my nickname a nickname, as he had put it.

It had been three days since we had moved into our new house in Bon Temps and we were still nowhere close to finishing the unpacking.

The house was big, airy and old, having first been built in the eighteen hundreds, repaired and improved over time. It was wooden so it creaked and moaned like an old woman at night, but I found that just added to its character. Originally, it had been a five-bedroom house but the previous owners had modified it to have two large master bedrooms and a reasonably sized guest room, which suited our needs perfectly.

It was painted a soft, happy yellow and our garden was huge. The only reason Jesse and I had been able to afford it was because no one else would buy it. There had been a fire here fifty years ago and ever since the locals had steered clear of it, convinced it was haunted. The estate agents hadn't been able to find any out of town buyers and had sold us the house for half its original price in a last, desperate attempt to be rid of it.

I swept up the shattered plate before throwing its tragic remains in the trash, staring at all the boxes that had invaded our downstairs.

"Hey, Jess, do you want to go out tonight? We're not going to get this done all in one evening and we deserve a break. Let's celebrate our newfound status as homeowners! We could go to that club in Shreveport that we always tried to sneak into back in high school."

I heard a small thump from the living room before Jesse came speeding around the corner, sliding on the wooden floors in his socks and whooping loudly. "Now you're talking!"

It took us an hour to get ready. This was mostly because Jesse kept sabotaging me when I tried to do my eyeliner. Every time I got close to drawing the perfect wing, he would jolt me and the eyeliner would go everywhere. Of course, I had to enact revenge and eventually a white flag had to be raised and a truce called if we ever wanted to get to the club before midnight.

I had decided to wear glittery eye makeup, bright lipstick, a dark pair of jeans and a glittery top to match my eyes. Checking myself in the mirror one last time before we left, I had to admit that I looked pretty damn good. We called a cab and spent the time that it took to arrive having a small fashion show in the hallway, where we strutted up and down as though we were doing the catwalk. It was childish and silly and it was exactly what I needed to forget everything that had happened.

By the time the cab pulled up outside the front, Jesse and I were more than a little tipsy from tequila shots, staggering slightly and giggling madly at everything. It felt so good, so freeing, to just let go and enjoy myself.

It didn't take long to get to the club and the cab fare was much cheaper than it was in Dallas. Jesse helped me from the car like a true gentleman as I tittered in my heels. We gave the cab driver a cheery wave, got in line for the club and within a few minutes we were inside.

Back in high school, Enchanted was the hottest club in our area. It was packed every night and the queues would stretch well beyond the club. Tonight, however, it was far emptier than it would have been three years ago. We made our way to the bar and ordered a few rounds of shots, downing far more than we should have before making our way to the dance floor.

The music was loud and pumping, with flashing lights on both the ceiling and the floor that whirled in a dazzling array of colors. We grinned widely at each other and immediately let loose on the dance floor, swinging our hips and waving our arms. One of the best things about going clubbing with Jesse was that other guys tended to stay away and I rarely got hit on. I was free to enjoy the music and dance the night away.

After a while I became aware of a pair of eyes staring intensely at me. At first, I couldn't figure out who it was or where they were but after glancing around the room a few times, I became aware of a pair of dark green eyes at the bar. The man sitting there was tall, with short, dark hair. He was wearing what was obviously an expensive suit stretched over a well-muscled body as he swirled a glass of scotch in one hand. He caught me staring and winked at me. I was well beyond the point of coherency and good judgement at this point and smiled flirtatiously back.

I had spent the last few days forcefully shoving away any thoughts I had of both Godric and Eric and pretending like I had never met them. For the most part I was doing a good job. At night, however, while I was sleep, they caught up to me. They haunted my dreams in sinfully delicious ways, leaving me to wake up in the mornings beyond frustrated. My drunken mind decided that the perfect remedy to this was to get thoroughly laid.

Turning back to Jesse, I gave him the signal that meant I wanted to go home with someone and he grinned slyly at me, waggling his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes and blew him a kiss before making my way over the bar, sliding into the chair next to my admirer. He smiled knowingly at me and I wasted no time in making my move.

I leant forward strategically in a way that enhanced my chest and collarbones. His eyes immediately dropped below my face and I tilted me head up to his, my lips brushing his ear.

'Want to get out of here?" I asked, pulling away and biting my lip. If I had been sober I would have been mortified at my cliché and horribly embarrassing moves but the man didn't seem to mind. He practically tripped over his own two feet in his haste to leave with me and I giggled lightly. He was less graceful now he was standing up and his eagerness reminded me of a small puppy but I didn't mind, I actually preferred it that way – it meant he reminded me less of two people I really did not want to be thinking about.

I grabbed his hand and led him out the club. We were hit with a wall of silence once we made it out the doors, making my ears ring. I hadn't noticed how loud the music had been.

"My car is over that way," the man croaked, eyeing me hungrily. I smiled and tried to walk confidently in the direction he was pointing in but I stumbled drunkenly. He caught me and I leaned gratefully into him, allowing my hands to wander all over his body. He moaned slightly at my touch and rushed us over to his car, which was at the back of the lot, cloaked by shadows.

As soon as we were hidden from the purple neon lights of the club, and from sight, I pushed the man up against the car, my mouth eagerly finding his. The kiss was messy, and honestly, unpleasant, but I was too drunk to care. He kissed me back clumsily and he couldn't keep up with me. His hands started to roam my body, going up under my top to stroke my stomach before moving higher. I had been so on edge and so frustrated by my dreams that his touch had me groaning loudly into his mouth.

My mind was a drunken buzz as I started to pull his jacket off in an ineffective and blundering way, too drunk to have proper control over my limbs. He seemed to be in much better shape than me and easily shed his jacket.

"I – I can't wait to get home," he gasped, starting to undo the top button of my jeans. "Let's just do it in the car."

I nodded eagerly, and later, when I was sober and looking back on this, I would absolutely hate myself. In a car in the club parking lot? Really, Milia? At that moment, however, it seemed like a wonderful idea.

My body felt like it was burning and every muscle was wound tightly as I helped him undo my top button. I cheered loudly when we got it undone and he urgently shushed me. I laughed and kissed him again, slipping my hands up under his shirt. Just as he got the car unlocked and the passenger door open, however, disaster struck.

One moment I was eagerly nipping his ear and the next I felt the world blur around me and my stomach drop down to my feet. At first, I was confused and just assumed I was even drunker than I thought – the world often spun in circles like this when Jesse and I drank tequila but then I realised the sensation was familiar. Dread filled me as I realised exactly what was going on.

I came to abrupt stop and the world, which had been muted while I had been trapped in that whirling state, crashed back around me. Noise hit me full blast, the loud, deep bass of club music and the chatter of lots of people. Next I became aware of a set of hard, muscled arms encasing me. This all took less than a few seconds and I stumbled out of the embrace of my abductor in shock as I became used to all these sensations slamming into me at once.

I belatedly realised we were in a nice office, but there were no windows so I didn't know much more beyond that. The loud music and people I could hear outside suggested we were in a club but it was definitely not Enchanted.

"What the hell were you doing?" A voice hissed. I jumped and whirled around, kicking myself for having forgotten, however briefly, that I was not alone.

Godric stood before me, in simple blue jeans and a tight white top, looking more furious than I had ever seen him in my life.

"What?" I answered, blinking in confusion.

"I said," he snarled, stepping towards me, "what the hell were you doing?"

I spent a few seconds standing there, staring at him as my mind slowly registered his question. "I was about to get laid," I huffed, pouting and crossing my arms. My words came out slurred and I swayed unsteadily on my feet.

My answer didn't seem to be the one he was looking for. He went scarily still and closed his eyes briefly, when he opened them again, they burned. He seemed to be holding himself back from something, like he was restraining a storm brewing inside and when he spoke his voice was tight and controlled, like he was having a lot of difficulty speaking normally.

"Are you drunk?"

I could see his fangs, barely visible but there, poking down into his lower lips and it was oddly sensual.

"No!" I scoffed but was given away when my body betrayed me. The aggressive way I answered his question jolted my body and sent me stumbling to the floor on my ass.

I was too drunk to feel the pain, although I distantly noted my butt was going to be a bruised mess tomorrow, and instead burst into loud laughter, happily lying back on the floor.

Godric closed his eyes again and continued to look murderous. "We will deal with this when you are sober. Get up; you are coming with me to the bar to drink some water. The Internet tells me that this aids the process of sobering up."

I giggled loudly again and tried to get up but instead ended up just uselessly rolling around on the floor. Godric growled and lifted me up smoothly in one fluid motion.

"Woah," I yelled, swaying dizzily. "Too fast! Way too fast!"

Godric allowed me a moment to recover before me started marching me to the door, a firm grip on my arm. It didn't do him much good, my heels were far too high for my current alcohol levels and I ended up just tripping over my feet. I snorted loudly and Godric growled in frustration again.

Before I could react, he had swooped me up into his arms in a bridal position. I cheered and happily wrapped my arms around his neck; both for stability and so I could press myself closer to him.

He stiffened and it seemed like he was having an inner war with himself so I just sat there and patiently waited for him to come to some kind of decision. Eventually, he relaxed slightly and started moving, carrying me to the door. I sighed contentedly and leaned up into his face, loosening one arm so I could trace his cheekbones and his eyes.

"You have such pretty eyes," I murmured and he froze. I took the opportunity to lean into his face, licking my lips and staring with an intense focus on his. "And pretty lips. They look so kissable."

His fangs popped out again and he groaned deeply.

"You are killing me, little one. It is so hard to keep my control around you."

I smiled widely at him. "So don't."

His chest rumbled deeply as he tightened his arms around me. "You are in no state to be making decisions right now." It sounded like he was gritting his teeth.

"Don't worry – I probably won't remember anything tomorrow anyway, so you can say whatever you like."

"That is not the urge I am trying so hard to control right now."

"Oh," I sighed, still too inebriated to really keep up with the conversation or what was happening around me.

Somehow, without me noticing, we had reached a bar. This was definitely not Enchanted. Enchanted had been a kaleidoscope of bright colors; pinks, greens, blues and purples. This club was dark and what I imagined a BDSM sex club to look like. It had a color scheme of black and more black, with a little hint of red thrown in for variety. It was packed, people barely had room to breathe, let alone dance and I couldn't see past the crowd more than three feet ahead of me.

Godric quickly set me down at the bar, on a plush stall. "Drink some water." He ordered.

Unfortunately for him, my issues with being ordered around extended to people I liked as well. My temper flared. "No."

The glass he had been holding shattered in his grip and I flinched back in surprise.

"I cannot control myself around you at this moment. I will get Pam to look after you." And with that he sped away. I sighed mournfully and pouted – I didn't want him to go.

I peered around me curiously. There was a small crowd of onlookers. Some eyed me like I was piece of meat and others eyed me with intense dislike, jealous rage simmering in their eyes, although I didn't really know what they had to be jealous about.

It didn't take long for Godric to find this "Pam." When I turned back to the bar a blonde woman was standing behind it, right in front of me. She was leaning right into my personal space with a vicious smile.

She was blonde and drop dead gorgeous, not a hair out of place and bold, pink lipstick painted on her full lips. "So you're the human all the fuss is about."

I didn't bother asking her what she meant and instead grinned sunnily. "Nice lipstick." It was the exact same shade as mine.

"I could say the same to you," she smirked, coming in closer in what I assume was an attempt to intimidate me.

I gave her a sly smirk of my own. "You into girls?"

I saw surprise flicker across her face before it was replaced by a positively wicked smile. "Oh, I like you."

"Good." I closed the short distance between us and pressed my lips against hers when I felt a sharp wind behind me and I was tugged forcefully back.

Godric had returned and looked just as lethal, if not more so, than before.

"Pam, you have one second to leave before I make you."

Uh, oh, Milia has gotten Pam into some serious trouble.

So there you have it - the Godric reunion. It didn't quite go the way he wanted it to, oh dear. And Milia seems to be making a right mess of things and is not doing any favours for herself.

I had so much fun writing this chapter, especially the fire scene and Jesse and Milias' relationship. I would also like to make it very clear now that all my knowledge of fire-fighting and fire departments comes from Chicago Fire (which is an amazing show and you should all go watch it right now) which is just a roundabout way of me saying that actually I know nothing about firefighting and fire departments so please don't take anything written here as accurate, because it's not.

Thank you so much for reading!

Next chapter: Milia gets into the argument of her life, Eric and Godric have a lot of fun toying with her, and we see the return of Leanna.