Chapter 69

Premonitions

Intro song: I Don't Need No Doctor, John Scofield & John Mayer

"So, doc, what's the verdict?"

John Spector sat down with the couple, his keen eyes noting the vise grip Beth kept on Mick's hand. Her devotion to the vampire was admirable. Whether it was misplaced, well...that's not for you to say...

The physician nodded with apparent satisfaction. "I'm very pleased with the progress you've made while I've been gone. From what I can tell, it looks like you're well on the road to recovery. But mind you, I don't exactly have a vampire physician's desk reference." His expression grew serious. "For at least the next week, Mick, you need to continue to take it easy. Very easy." Spector ticked the items off on his fingers. "Freezer. Blood. No exertion. No sunlight. Keep 'vampire hours'. No physical strain whatsoever." He hesitated, then added, "Rest is the order of the day here...and that means... very limited extracurricular activities."

Mick protested. "I feel almost back to normal. Why all these restrictions?"

He was appreciative of all the physician's efforts - from what Josef and Beth had told him, there was no doubt that his and Guillermo's work had saved his life. But it had been a full week since Spector had left California for New York. During that time, he'd followed the physician's dictates to the letter. He'd had no choice, of course - Beth had seen to that. Never a man to sit still for long, however, he'd had quite enough of doing nothing. He felt much better and he was ready - more than ready - to go home. And despite what he'd told Josef, his first order of business would be to track down those responsible for the ambush and exact revenge. He was hungry for it. An eye for an eye...

John cleared his throat to get his patient's attention. "Mick, you need to understand, so I'll say it again. Even with everything we did, and all the silver I extracted from your abdomen and chest, there was absolutely no way to get all of it. When those bullets exploded, they propelled minute granules and silver dust throughout your body." He seized on a new argument. "Look, your body is fighting a war against this poison. You've been a soldier, I'm told, so you know better than most how difficult it is to win a war being fought on two fronts at once. You need to give your body time to combat and eliminate as much as possible from your system."

Mick sighed. Put in those terms, he had to acknowledge the wisdom of the physician's advice. Yet, he also chafed at the thought of yet more limitations, more restrictions. "How long?" he growled.

"However long it takes." The physician's tone was exasperated.

Beth spoke up. "Dr. Spector, it was so kind of you to come all the way back to California to check Mick. I know you and Gabby had an early flight out. I'm sorry he's being so difficult!" She tossed a glare in the general direction of the vampire in question, her look clearly saying, "You are in so much trouble..."

"My pleasure, Beth. I wanted to see for myself how Mick was doing. As far as I'm concerned, he's a walking miracle. It's just too bad that I can't write up his case for a peer-reviewed journal." Turning back to his patient, he added, "Sadly, I don't think the medical world is ready for you yet, Mick."

"Well, I'm not ready for them, either," Mick shot back. "Now, could we get back to our discussion? I want to be sure I understand exactly what you mean by 'no physical strain'." He needed to know how hard he could push himself. The plain truth was - although he would never admit to it, especially to Beth - he felt a lot weaker than he was willing to let on.

It worried him.

He might be a relatively inexperienced youngster by the standards of old vampires like Josef and Victoria, but he was a very savvy private investigator. The events of the last few months signaled a serious, organized threat to their kind. He recognized a conspiracy when he smelled one - and the situation in New York stunk to high heaven, not to mention what had happened to him. Mick could sense that Josef wasn't telling him everything - whether because he was still convalescing or because of Kostan's always secretive nature, he couldn't be sure. It was one of the reasons he was doing his best to hide his lingering weakness.

The other reason was Beth.

Over the past week, he had watched her begin to regain the feisty, sunny nature he loved. It seemed obvious to him that she was recovering because he was. Mick was determined not to let anything get in the way of her progress. Especially not me. So, he hid how exhausted he felt after very little exertion, how painful the huge incision still was, how even the smallest hint of sunshine felt like sharp knives piercing him...Just how long do you think you can keep this up? "As long as I need to," he muttered, not realizing he'd spoken aloud.

"What?" his human companions asked simultaneously.

Thinking fast, he answered, "I was agreeing with you, Dr. Spector - for as long as it takes. I know I need to be a better patient."

"Uh-huh," Beth said skeptically, eyeing him closely.

Mick had the feeling that she could see right through him and knew what he was thinking. It was unsettling.

Misinterpreting the vampire's uneasy expression, the older man leaned forward. "You need to understand, this is not punitive, Mick. After all, I'm not trying to restrict you until you acquire some sense, for god's sake. That might take forever, from what I can tell!" He smiled to take the sting out of his words. "It is just that your body was so compromised by all you went through, you have to be careful. While working through this final healing stage, I believe you will be much more vulnerable than normal. However, you are the first vampire I'm aware of who has survived such trauma and I'm feeling my way here - hence the more onerous, and perhaps more difficult, restrictions. Do you understand me, you two?"

He was met with bewildered stares.

Mick finally spoke into the silence. "So, when you say 'restricted', does that include... I mean, you know... "

The physician shook his head. The unspoken message behind St. John's words was not lost on him. Prior conversations with the vampire on this topic, before he left Temecula the first time, had not been well-received either, even when he was much weaker than he was now. Spector was not surprised that, as Mick felt better, he balked more loudly. In some areas, vampires and humans were so much alike - especially males.

"It means no sex, Mick... uhm, and Beth..." He turned to the young woman apologetically, hoping that he would have better luck impressing her with the importance of his counsel.

The young woman's expressionchanged as he clarified the restrictions and she nodded, looking at Mick with an exasperated expression. What wasn't clear about this?

Mick tried again. "Could you please clarify what you mean by sex... I mean... isn't there... anything... we can…"

"Nooottthhhiiinnnggg!" Spector dragged out the word. "It's not about the type of sex, it's about the stress any strong physical exertion puts on your body..."

Beth stared, open-mouthed, at Mick. The conversation was too much for her to take. "Wha... are... are you serious? You took how many bullets... your intestines were all over the table... it took two men hours to pull silver out of you... you almost died… and... and... you're worried about whether we can scre-"

"BETH!" Mick bellowed, stopping her onslaught, but not the daggers her eyes threw at him. Those, he felt.

After an awkward silence, Spector slapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself up. "Okay, then. I think my work here is done!" He chuckled, his amusement catching Mick and Beth up in its net. In a moment, they were all laughing. "Young lady," he said when he had regained his composure, walking over to her to pick up her free hand and look in her eyes. "I can see that you are the person I should address. If you continue to watch over him just as I have seen you do the whole time I've been around you - he'll be fine."

Mick leaned over toward them. "But, seriously, doc... I mean... nothing? Nothing at all? Not even..."

"Oh for the love of god - " Spector dropped Beth's hand and wheeled on the vampire. "No sex! No intercourse, no oral sex, no masturbation...nothing! Have I made myself sufficiently clear?!"

"You heard the man." Beth smiled mischievously. "And more importantly, so did I. No touchy, no feely."

Mick appeared unfazed. Deadly serious, he continued. "But, for how long?"

Spector sighed theatrically. Obviously, St. John was not going to leave this alone.

"All right, Mick. Here's the deal. One week. One week of no significant stimulation of any kind - no exposure to the sun, no stress. I want you to be bored. Watch every movie you've wanted to see, read every book you've been meaning to get around to. Kiss Beth. Kiss her every hour of every day, if you like. But NOTHING more. If you do that for one week..." He shook his index finger in exasperation. "One week... with no problems or setbacks, then you can ease back into normal activities - whatever qualifies as 'normal' for vampires." He paused. "And, it goes without saying, that I sincerely hope that 'normal' for you does not include the type of activities that got you into this shape in the first place."

The physician folded his arms, peering down at Mick as he stood in front of him. He decided to take it a step further. "Now, just so you know, I am also going to repeat these instructions to Josef, to Logan, to Guillermo, to Gabrielle... hell, to anyone I encounter between here and New York City! So everyone will know if you try to overstep your boundaries."

Beth laughed, jabbing carefully at the crestfallen vampire's shoulder. "I think he's got you there, stud. You are not having sex for another week - at least, not with me!"

Mick glanced at Beth with a wicked grin, his eyes sparkling. He couldn't resist poking some fun at her. "Sooo... not with you..."

"Don't even think about going there!" she threatened, laughter just under the surface.

The injured man sighed theatrically. "Still seems a little extreme to me," he grumbled.

"Well, you were a fairly extreme case," Spector observed dryly. He turned his attentions to the seemingly more sensible member of the duo. "Now, I have to go meet with Josef, so let me take your stitches out, Beth." The physician moved over to take her still-bandaged wrist in his lap. As he unwound the gauze, he said, "I want you to take care of yourself too, young lady. Get a good night's sleep. In a real bed. Eat something."

Mick snorted. "Good luck with that, John. If you think I'm a bad patient..." He trailed off as he caught her look of wrath. "Hey, tit for tat, Beth! You haven't been sleeping or eating well, even I know that."

The physician's head, bent over her wrist as he began clipping the stitches, shot up. "Not sleeping, are you? Nightmares?" His voice was gentle.

Beth flushed, fidgeting over the disclosure. How did Mick know?

"Hold still, please!" Spector commanded. He continued speaking as he concentrated on removing the loosened stitches with the tweezers in his hand. "Beth, there's no shame in admitting you are having a few difficulties. You went through a very traumatic experience just as Mick did. It would not be surprising for there to be some aftereffects. If you like, I can prescribe something to help you sleep."

She frowned. "I've never been a fan of medicating sleep."

"And, in general, that is an attitude I applaud. I'm suggesting it just for a few days, to get you back into a more normal rhythm."

"Listen to the doctor, Beth. It won't hurt you." Mick's voice was full of regret. It was his fault that she was scarred - mentally, as well as physically. His inability to deal with Talbot's threats and coercion. His incompetence that failed to see the threat in time. He would never forgive himself if this experience had done lasting damage to her.

John Spector looked up with a smile. "Yes, listen to me, Beth. Mr. St. John is better at doling out advice than he is at taking it, isn't he?" He was rewarded with a genuine smile from his patient. Releasing her hand, he announced, "All done. It looks good - healing very well. I'm sorry though; I'm afraid, you may have a small scar there."

Beth shrugged as she lifted her arm and inspected the thin red line of new skin that had formed where she had cut herself to feed Mick. In comparison to what he had endured, this seemed so trivial. "I wasn't planning on a career as a hand model anyway. Thank you so much, John. For everything." Impulsively, she leaned over to hug him, smiling brightly over his shoulder at Mick.

"Thank you, my dear, for the privilege of getting to know you. I will leave you a prescription for a sleep aid - you can decide for yourself whether or not to use it. Your vampire's going to be fine, so you can afford to go off the clock a little." Spector leaned over to kiss her cheek. He had been genuinely touched by the depth of commitment she had shown throughout Mick's ordeal.

"Yessir," she answered meekly.

"Now Mick," the physician said as he offered his hand to his patient, who stood to shake it. "If you won't take care of yourself for you, then do it for Beth. I don't think she can take another episode like this either." He smiled toward the grateful young woman. "I'll see both of you later. I understand Josef has something special planned for tomorrow night. I'm intrigued."

"Josef now, huh? That's quite a step up from Mr. Kostan," Beth teased. "When did that happen?"

"I believe we have reached an... understanding." Spector smiled. "I know I feel better now about our relationship." At least I don't feel like he might rip my throat out every ten minutes... He excused himself and went off to find their host.

After the physician left, Beth moved over to stand in front of Mick. "So... I don't sleep, huh? And how, exactly, would you know that, Mr. St. John, if you are staying where you are supposed to?!" Her arms were crossed, and she scowled down at him threateningly.

The vampire raised one eyebrow. "You do have quite a fan club, you know. And that cold room is like Grand Central Station. I don't have to leave it to know what's going on. I am a P.I., you know," he added archly.

"Oh yeah. I keep forgetting." Beth giggled as she sidestepped a sudden grab from Mick. "Sorry, I call 'em like I see 'em."

"I'll remember that the next time you want me to help you with a case."

"Don't you have it backward? Seems to me like you usually want my help on cases, Mr. P.I.!"

Mick was grinning broadly now. It was good just to be able to joke and laugh - for a while, it had seemed like he'd forgotten how. From the smile on Beth's face, he guessed that she felt the same. Changing topics, he asked, "So, what's on your schedule for today?"

"Well, according to you and John, I guess I need to go eat and take a nap!" Beth snorted. "If I'm going to keep up with partying vampires tomorrow night, I'll need some rest. And I guess," she paused, thinking, "I'd better figure out something to wear. Maybe I can hit up Josef's 'Closet of Shame' again."

Mick guffawed. "Between you, Simone, and Gabby, aren't the pickings getting sort of slim?"

Beth sighed. "Probably. I'll come up with something though. Oh, and, speaking of her, I need to go find Gabby!"

"Well, when you do, tell her I'm looking for her too."

"Will do." She leaned in for a quick kiss. "Okay, I have things to do - and, from the looks of things, you could stand to go back to Grand Central Station and get some sleep too."

"Gee, thanks. Is that code for 'you look like hell'?"

"Mick, given what you've been through, looking like hell is a big improvement!" Resting her hand on the back of his neck, she rubbed it gently. "It's going to be wonderful to get you back home and let things go back to normal." Reluctantly, she removed her hand. It was always difficult to leave Mick now. He seemed so vulnerable, so... mortal. Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she announced, "Okay, I'll see you in your room later. I need to call Alison and Marisa and find Gabby." Depositing one more kiss on the vampire's lips, Beth whispered, "I love you," before heading out the door.

Mick let her go, keeping to himself, his reservations about their lives ever returning to normal. He did need rest - but first... The P.I. eased off the chair with a frown and reached for his shirt. Something had been nagging at him and it was time he got some answers from Josef Kostan.

"I have an update for you. Beth Turner called Ben Talbot today; she's coming back to work next week."

"That's news to me! I can tell you that if she's shared that with Talbot, he hasn't announced it yet. I've been asking around – discretely, of course – and no one seemed to know anything," the disembodied voice said worriedly.

"I'm not too surprised. I think this was a day-to-day thing as to how the vampire was recovering – and it doesn't appear she was inclined to come back to work until he was better."

Do you want me to keep watching her place?"

Adam Durand drummed his fingers on his father's desk as he considered the question. "Yeah, for now, go ahead. Christophe's informant tells us that she and St. John are together, but I don't necessarily trust that information. I want to know just how close they are. If she's living with him now, that may change things."

He heard the heavy sigh on the other end of the call and reacted. "Is there a problem?"

"No, not really." The Crucis mole hastened to reassure Durand. "It's just that, between being at the DA's office all day, and pulling guard duty at night, it's a pretty tiring schedule. I guess I can handle it though."

"You need to." The younger Durand's tone was unmistakably threatening. "You're being well-compensated for all this and if you can't cut it, you need to let me know. Now." Adam paused to allow his operative to respond.

"No, no, it's okay! I just can't do it long-term, is all. A person's gotta sleep sometime, ."

Oh, you'll sleep soon enough. Adam was briefly entertained by the thought of shoving his gun into his informant's face and blowing it off. Aloud, he said, "We'll have more operatives out there soon to help. As soon as we take care of the pestilence in New York, we'll move people west and deal with the witnesses. Plan on a few more weeks of this." His tone left no room for argument.

"How do you want me to contact you? Same as always?"

"Yeah, just use this number. It's a secure line." Not even Adam Durand's father knew about all of his clandestine activities in California. The two did not always see eye-to-eye on how to approach the issue of vampire annihilation, especially as it pertained to collateral humans.

While both believed that any human that consorted with vampires was equally deserving of the monsters' fate, Adam thought that they could play a useful role in the coming war. What better bait for a vampire than a human with whom a vampire had some sort of sick, twisted relationship? And good leverage to keep them in line…

Christophe felt that vampires were much too dangerous to run the risk of trying to 'domesticate' any of them – and that there could be no rehabilitation for monsters. Adam, however, believed that a limited number of vampires could potentially be culled and used to do their bidding – creating a strong, almost invincible army. Even he acknowledged, however, that keeping them in check would be a tricky proposition, but one that could potentially be made much easier by having the proper 'incentives' such as the life of a valued human…

"Mr. Durand?"

"Sorry, thinking about something else… Let's talk again on Tuesday night - unless something significant happens between now and then, of course."

"No problem."

Adam picked up the silver dagger-shaped letter opener on his father's desk and toyed with it, idly flipping it in the air as he had watched Christophe do many times. When he got up to leave, he carefully replaced it in its customary spot on Durand's desk. He knew it held special significance for his father – one of the reasons he planned to confiscate it. When I take over Crucis…

A smile of anticipation tugging at his lips, he left the room and went to find his father.

End song: Premonitions, Vaults