Just like blood vampires and humans, energy vampires were capable of sleep. Most did, to conserve energy. But Colin rarely slept for a full night, as sleeping through the night meant less time spent with his nocturnal roommates. He always had to drain them to compensate, but he thought that was a small price to pay for roomie time.
Tonight was different. He still didn't sleep, but instead of hanging out with his roommates, he spent the night locked up in his room plotting potential ways of getting under Joan's skin. He typed up a list of every possible way he could remember draining someone, ranking them in order of how universally annoying they were. Then, in true energy vampire fashion, he converted that list into a series of graphs and charts, forming categories such as Outdated Pop Culture References, Backhanded Compliments, and Unfortunate Body Odors.
Some of the most consistently annoying things to do, according to his charts, were Interrupting Others and Incorrectly Correcting others. Negatively Commenting On Appearance was also high up on his list, but he still wasn't sure he wanted to resort to blatant insults, not if there were potentially better ways of draining her. Especially since the last time he'd insulted her, she'd taken it in stride. He decided to save that method as a last resort.
There were plenty of other promising ways of bothering her, like through Awkward Handshakes and Grating Voice Impressions, but he struggled to predict what might actually get through to her. He knew she was capable of being bored - he'd felt it initially before he'd introduced himself. If her job could bore her, then he could certainly figure out how to do it, right? Or at least rankle her a little?
His alarm went off. It was time to go to work.
Colin slowly trudged up the stairs to the first floor, leaning heavily against the wall. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed up all night without draining anyone, but he knew he didn't want to repeat it. He felt about as exhausted as everyone else did when he drained them. He definitely didn't envy the feeling.
Opening the door to the first floor, he was greeted with the sight of Guillermo mopping up a dark puddle of blood in the entryway. Guillermo looked up at Colin, then paused, emitting a smidge of concern.
He frowned. "Geez, you okay? You don't look so good."
Colin's reflection wasn't totally consistent with how he appeared to the rest of the world. His reflection's skin was more pallid and mottled, much like a corpse. Unless he took a photo of himself, he could never be totally confident of how he looked to the rest of the world on a given day. He wondered what about his appearance today made Guillermo feel so concerned.
"I've never felt better. Can't say the same for this guy, though."
Colin walked through the puddle, kicking a bit of viscera onto Guillermo's shoes. Seemed like one of his roommates had gotten a bit carried away last night. He continued walking through the puddle all the way to the front door, tracking bloody footprints all the way.
Guillermo's concern for Colin evaporated. He was not amused. "Oh, come on, really?"
Colin chuckled as he left, draining Guillermo's exasperation before he shut the door. It perked him up a bit, enough to at least walk to the bus stop without stumbling. When the bus arrived, he made awkward small talk with the driver as he always did, then did the same with the rest of the bus's inhabitants. He loudly commented on the buildings they passed by, the purpose of each, when they were built, who built them, what architectural styles they embodied. Colin droned on and on until he noticed the bus driver's eyes start to droop. He didn't need to get in a horrible bus accident before getting to work - how could he possibly implement his plot to annoy Joan then?
Eventually the bus reached his stop. The familiar boredom of the bus's other occupants energized him as he stepped off and headed to his office building. Generally, to enter a building, vampires needed an invitation. While energy vampires were the exception to most vampire rules (needing blood to live, walking in the sun, sensitivity to crucifixes), needing permission to enter a building was not one of them.
But Colin had been "working" here for years. The people within viewed him as one of their own. Just as he didn't need permission to enter his own home, he didn't need permission to enter this building, either. Every time he stepped through the entrance to his office building without having to ask for an invitation, it reaffirmed that he was a welcome, if annoying, addition to his office environment.
When he finally reached the office, he immediately scanned the room for Joan. He knew it was unlikely she'd be here yet, as few people ever arrived this early, but he found himself anxious to see her anyway. He'd spent all night plotting against her - he was impatient to put his plan into action.
To his relief, there she was, typing away on her computer. All of the desks surrounding her's were empty. She looked focused on whatever it was she was doing, her body leaned forward and her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. He wasn't entirely sure what all of payroll's responsibilities were, but he knew Biff's absence must have caused a mountain of work to accumulate. With no one around and her clearly in a bad position to be interrupted, this was the perfect time to talk to her.
His feet moved faster than his mind, and he was already at her desk before he'd even realized he'd started moving. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, clicked her mouse, then looked up at him with a small smile.
"Sorry, just had to save my work. What's up, Colin?"
She looked at him with tired eyes, the early morning sun revealing heavy bags underneath them. She also seemed to have a small little wrinkle between her eyebrows, like a perpetual worried crease. He hadn't noticed these details before, but today he was determined to pay better attention to her. He needed a more complete picture of who she was to better cater his behavior toward her.
He also noticed some strangle little scars dotting the junction where the left side of her neck met her torso, small bumped pinpricks that looked anything but natural. Her hair must have been covering them up yesterday.
"I just wanted to…" His hands fluttered uselessly in the air. He suddenly realized that in his haste to greet her, he'd forgotten to grab his mug from the break room. It was rare for him not to be holding something - a mug, a briefcase, a book. This was a bad start. What had he planned on saying to her, again? "... check on how your first day went?"
He couldn't remember what he originally meant to say, but that definitely wasn't it. Her expression didn't change, but he knew she felt a bit of surprise. He guessed she didn't expect the sudden friendliness from him, either.
"It was fine!" she said, "A little dull, but better than being overwhelmed isn't it?"
He glanced at the tall stacks of papers on her desk. She should be overwhelmed, he knew, but she wasn't. He sensed no stress from her, instead there was a disinterested calm which most office workers developed at some point. But there was also a deep confidence in her he usually only found in other vampires - like she was stronger than the tasks (and the world) before her.
"I guess it is. I'm not sure everyone else here would agree with you. Most of them can't stand the slow-pace."
He'd spent all night categorizing everything he could possibly do to annoy her and here he was not doing any of it. What was wrong with him?
She paused. "Everyone else isn't here."
Something … strange suddenly brewed inside her. She leaned forward. "What do you think? Do you like to take things slow, too?"
He froze. His mouth dropped open, but he couldn't seem to close it. Flirty Repartee was not anywhere in his 53-page boredom manifesto. She looked at him expectantly, lips trembling with the urge to laugh. Goddammit, she was teasing him again.
His hands wrung together as he finally gained control of his mouth again. "Y-yes?"
She giggled and leaned back in her seat, that strange little emotion he was too scared to name fading away. He felt like he could breathe again. He wasn't sure when he'd stopped. "Then I'm in good company. We can stop and appreciate the little things, can't we?"
She thought he was good company?
Before he could respond, Derek walked past him to take his seat. He shot them a cynical look as he went. Derek was a bit of a snob when it came to unnecessary office chatter. It made him an easy target for draining. A little too easy, actually. There was hardly any sport in annoying someone who was constantly looking for reasons to be annoyed.
Joan looked past Colin's shoulder at the stream of people slowly filtering in. "Guess work's officially starting now. Thanks for checking in on me, Colin. I should probably get back to it. "
She cracked her knuckles to emphasize her point, then turned back toward her computer. But this gave him an idea, and whatever had stopped him from unleashing his full energy-vampire ways on her before that moment were gone.
Colin used one hand to adjust his glasses, the other holding a finger up. He'd found something to Incorrectly Correct her about.
"Y'know, excessive knuckle-cracking can lead to arthritis. If you care at all about your hands, you wouldn't crack 'em. Arthritis is a debilitating disease, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to get it from some little habit."
She turned back toward him, crossing her arms. "That's just a myth, you know. If there's any actual evidence of that, I'd love to see it. Got a source?"
He grinned. She'd taken the bait. The last time someone had taken the bait it was Ted, and it was over whether or not it was safe to use cotton swabs to clean out your ears. That argument had lasted days, leaving Ted slumped over his desk with little energy left. With any luck, the same would happen to Joan.
"I've got plenty of sources, which I'd be happy to send you in an email. But I think it's also just common sense - that cracking sound can't be good, can it?"
Joan closed her eyes then slowly rolled her head in a circle, causing her neck to make a loud crack. For a brief moment, he was granted a better view of the small round scars on her neck. There were more of them than he'd originally thought.
"I don't know. Sounds pretty good to me. Feels pretty good, too. You think I'm going to get neck arthritis now, too?"
He shrugged. "You never know. It might feel good now, but how will it feel in your sixties with all that searing pain in your fingers and neck?"
"I guess I'll find out, if I ever even make it to sixty."
"What?"
"What?"
There was an awkward beat of silence as he tried to process what he thought she just said. She recovered faster than he did.
"Look, you send me those sources and I guarantee I'll find a competing, more reputable source for each one you give me. I've been cracking my fingers for years and nothing's happened - and nothing's going to happen, because you're wrong. I'll prove it."
This wasn't going how he'd planned. Even Ted wasn't this passionate about the q-tip debate. Instead of being drained by this ridiculous argument, she was gaining momentum. It was time to invoke the other promising category of annoyance he had planned - Interrupting People.
"Can you really be sure there's no harm in doing it? Scientific findings are constantly changing and I doubt you actually know what causes the cracking sound in your knuckles."
"I may not kno-"
He continued on. "I mean, you're acting like you're such an expert but you haven't once started to explain why there's nothing wrong with it, not biologically."
She huffed. "Sure, but you haven't-"
"I don't claim to be an expert in stuff like this, since I'm not so prideful as to make grand sweeping declarations about things I don't understand."
She gaped. "But you-"
He continued talking over her, prattling on and on as he felt her irritation grow. It was working! If he just kept it up a little longer, he was sure she'd burst, and he could drain the wonderful, red-hot energy he called anger.
And then, out of nowhere, her aggravation disappeared. It felt like she'd poured a cold bucket of water over herself, cooling down the temper he'd ignited. She abruptly turned back to her computer without even acknowledging him. She began typing again, slowly continuing the work he'd interrupted her from doing. Colin's voice tapered off as he realized she was intentionally ignoring him. And successfully doing it! He'd meant to frustrate her, but she didn't feel frustrated with him anymore. She didn't feel anything toward him at all. It was like she'd blocked him out entirely. He felt cold.
He stopped his rant, concerned. "Joan? Are you-"
And all of a sudden she swiveled back, her freezing energy cracking into something warm and humbling. It was like staring straight into the sun. Fiery, beautiful, and much, much bigger than him. Draining it would probably give him acid reflux, he bet.
Her smile was piercing. "I'm absolutely fine, if that's what you were going to ask. Of course, I wouldn't know what you were going to ask, since I so rudely interrupted you. It's not fun having a conversation you're not a part of, is it? Being shut out?"
He blinked a few times, mouth turned down into a flabbergasted frown. There was no trace of the outrage he'd just inspired in her. Somehow, she'd managed to will those feelings away. How could she do this? Manage her emotions so expertly?
She tilted her head a little, still smiling. "Well?"
Fuck it. Time to bring out the big guns: Negative Comments on Appearance.
He leaned down to her level, looked straight into her eyes with a glare, and growled out …
"Your hair … is frizzy."
That was a lot lamer than he meant it to be.
She blinked, unimpressed. "At least I have hair."
He stood up to his full height, fighting the urge to let out a classic energy vampire hiss. Every attempt he made to bother her she'd treated as a challenge - and she'd won every single time. He hadn't been this frustrated since Evie had shown up and proven herself to be undrainable. Hell, even Evie hadn't angered him this much. At least she had been another vampire. But Joan was human, and had no reason to be this good at sidestepping him. Every time Colin switched between friendly and frustrating, Joan followed, matching his energy in time.
To him, she felt like she was bigger than she was, like she could walk into a room and fill it with nothing but her soul. Like the ground beneath her feet, the air in her lungs, the great sky above, was something she could conquer.
He feared that if she set her mind to it, she might conquer him.
His anger got the best of him. Raising his voice, he said, "Look, you-"
"Good god, can you two just shut up and work?" Derek interjected, his face scrunched up in anger.
Joan suddenly became sheepish. "Sorry, we didn't mean to bother you."
"Speak for yourself," Colin muttered, throwing his hands up and walking away. It wouldn't do any good to yell at her. She'd probably find some way of turning that around on him too, knowing her.
He walked to the break room and grabbed his mug, grateful to have something back in his hands again. His mug didn't give him snarky backtalk and weirdly radiant smiles. His mug didn't have any energy at all.
Still angry after his disastrous conversation with Joan, Colin frustratedly spent the rest of the workday ruthlessly draining his colleagues. He interrupted every conversation. He coughed without covering his mouth. He moved everything in Kim's cubicle one inch to the right so she'd think she'd lost her mind. He took a few bites out of Joe's BLT sandwich he'd been looking forward to at lunch, even though to an energy vampire it tasted about as good as literal shit.
He took advantage of every opportunity to annoy someone as he could and by the end of the day, everyone in the office looked more like zombies than humans, except for the one human who'd somehow managed to be undrainable.
Joan noticed his obnoxious behavior, of course, sparing him the occasional glance, but she didn't seem to be bothered by it. She ignored when he loudly sharpened his pencil. She conspiratorially pretended not to notice him shifting all of Kim's stuff. She had looked at him with concern when he intentionally tripped over himself and took Derek down with him, but as soon as they'd scrambled to their feet she'd gone back to work, a small smile gracing her lips.
She wasn't bothered by him. Even worse, she was entertained by him. That energy bubbled out of her like the fizz in something carbonated. He didn't drain it; he feared it would give him indigestion. It seemed most of the things she felt he didn't feel comfortable draining.
When the workday ended, everyone slowly began pulling themselves out of their chairs, some slapping themselves in an attempt to wake up. Colin wasn't sure if he left them enough energy to drive home, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. With little energy left in the office to drain, Colin left and headed to the elevators. He pressed the button for the ground floor. Just as the doors were about to close, Joan ran through, barely managing to get through in time.
The elevator doors closed. Joan moved to stand next to him, clutching her purse tightly. He saw their blurry reflections in the elevator doors.
"I'm sorry I made fun of your, uh … baldness. That was inappropriate. I was going to apologize earlier, but you seemed busy."
Busy terrorizing the office, sure.
Not knowing what to say, he stayed silent. His body was buzzing with the energy he drained. His skin felt too tight, his head too hot.
"You did start it, though," she added.
Well, that was true.
He clenched and unclenched his fingers. Anything to relieve the pressure inside him. He couldn't focus on trying to drain her. He didn't even know where to start."Why are you … you?"
She turned to look at him. "I don't understand?"
He was right. In such close proximity, in such a small space, she did fill up the room. She was everywhere.
He looked at her, opening his mouth to elaborate when the elevator doors opened. It wasn't a very tall building. Short ride.
Colin shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Forget it."
He rushed out of the elevator, trying desperately to burn some of the energy he'd taken. He'd drained too much. Felt too much. It was uncomfortable.
Just as he opened the door to the building to leave, he heard Joan call out to him, "Colin?"
He turned back. There was that crease between her eyebrows again. She felt… sad. Regretful. Like she'd overstepped.
"Are we… are you okay? I can tell I upset you. I don't want us to get off on the wrong foot. I know I can be… well, a lot sometimes, and I don't mean to tease you as much as I do, it just kind of felt like you could give as good as you got, you know? I didn't have any friends at my last job and I just thought…"
She exhaled deeply. She seemed older at that moment. Her ponytail had come undone a bit, like she'd been running her fingers against it. A few strands of brown hair loosely framed her face. She looked as tired as he'd felt that morning.
"If I'm too much, just let me know."
She was. She was too much. She took up everything. Her emotions were complex and fluid and totally unattainable. He felt like Tantalus, caught between food and water with no way to reach either.
But instead of saying all that, he found himself telling her, "No. You're not too much. You're … you're just enough."
Colin didn't know where the hell that had come from. It sounded too much like a pick-me-up, like something Guillermo might say to Nandor when he went into one of his stormy moods. It was not something an energy vampire should say.
And yet he'd said it, and there she was, beaming one of those ridiculous smiles, surrounded by some of the softest, sweetest energy he'd ever had the misfortune of experiencing. Energy wasn't visible, but if it were, he imagined Joan would be outlined in blinding yellow light right now. Like some strange, frizzy-haired angel. He may not have been a blood vampire and had no qualms with religious symbols, but even he cringed at the comparison.
She adjusted the purse on her shoulder, trying and failing to tamper down her smile. "Well. I'm glad we sorted that out."
She walked past him and opened the door, holding it open for him. He walked out, heading toward the bus stop, wanting to get away from this unusual encounter as soon as he could. It seemed like all of his interactions with her ended with him running away.
Just as he was about to turn the corner, he heard her yell, "See you tomorrow, Colin!"
He didn't turn back. His body practically hummed with all of the energy he'd drained, so when he walked it was with a long stride and quick steps. He reached the bus stop much sooner than he normally did. With all that excess energy and nothing to do with it, he paced and fidgeted until the bus arrived.
When the bus rolled up he practically jumped onto it. Normally he would spend a minute making unbearable small talk with the driver to hold up his route, but today he was eager to return home. And, frankly, he was afraid if he drained anymore he might burst. He could feel the bus driver's relief as he passed by without a word. Colin rushed to his seat and anxiously bobbed his leg, mind whirring as the events of the caught up to him.
She couldn't be human. She just couldn't be. No human could be that difficult to drain without either being completely dead inside or a complete idiot. And she was neither. So clearly, she was something else.
Except she wasn't. She felt human. She didn't have a cold wall around her, like other energy vampires did (like Evie did…). He couldn't figure out what her deal was.
He glanced at his corpse-like reflection in the bus window's mirror. He didn't really know what his deal was, either.
With a deep sigh, he leaned back in his seat and looked up at the metal roof. No, he didn't understand her. He was starting to think he might never understand her. But maybe that was okay. Maybe … maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, for there to be someone he couldn't drain.
I didn't have any friends at my last job and I just thought…
Maybe it wouldn't kill him to have a friend.
Then I'm in good company. We can stop and appreciate the little things, can't we?
A friend who liked his company.
Don't be a stranger, Colin.
Maybe he wouldn't be.
The bus stopped. Just as he stepped off, body slightly more in equilibrium, his phone dinged with a notification. He checked his phone and saw he had received an email.
From: joanjordan
To: colinrobinson
Feel free to respond with your own sources, but I think we both know who's going to win.
Sincerely, your knuckle-cracking friend,
Joan
Attached to the email were seven sources, all disproving the link between knuckle-cracking and arthritis, three of which were peer-reviewed. The oldest source was less than ten years old, and the most recent was from last year.
…
Goddammit.