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kathierif_ficTitle: A Bad Taste In Your Mouth (One Blood, One Life)
Author: Kathie (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathierif_fic
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: none. This is gen. OMG.
Rating: FRM
Part 1
2.
The halls of the building were quiet, the kind of grave and still quietness that usually belonged into churches and funeral homes, Don Flack thought uncomfortably as he walked quietly toward the front desk, to let the receptionist know that he was leaving. It didn’t belong into a house that was filled with kids of all ages. There should be laughter and teasing and voices and other signs of activity, not this silence that made every of his step echo loudly through the corridor and made him try to tread quietly.
He shook his head and forced a smile on his face before pushing open the glass door that led to the foyer of the building. He had only needed to catch a brief glimpse at the broad back and the short cropped dark hair to recognize the vampire that was standing quietly in front of the desk, trying to make small talk with the receptionist, Anna, and looking as if he was feeling very awkward doing so.
“Mac,” he greeted quietly. The vampire, he knew, had already recognized the sound of his steps, and most likely had smelled that it was him entering the room. Mac didn’t need to turn around to know who entered or exited a room. “What are you doing here?”
Mac turned around and smiled faintly. “I was in the area,” he said and handed Don a paper cup that was steaming faintly and smelled deliciously like coffee. “And I thought I’d pick you up.”
Don raised his eyebrows, skepticism written on every inch of his face, but he decided not to call out Mac on the obvious lie while in public. “I’m done for today,” he announced and directed his smile to Anna while he waited for her to sign him out.
Mac waited patiently while Don scribbled his signature on a sheet of paper and wished Anna a good and peaceful night. He held the door open for the younger man and quietly followed him into the cool night.
Don inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Bad day?” Mac asked and reached out, to brush his fingertips along the cuff of Don’s shirt where it was peeking out from the sleeve of his coat.
Don shrugged. “Three new kids,” he simply said. He didn’t need to add anything else, Mac knew what he was talking about, but still, he couldn’t stop himself. “Single mother, killed by a vampire in rage. He ripped her apart and killed her in front of her kids, Mac.”
“I’m sorry,” Mac murmured softly. He knew that it was more than inadequate, but he didn’t know what else he could offer to Don, who had spent the entire day sitting with three traumatized kids. “I wish…”
Don shook his head before he could add another word. “I know,” he said exhaustedly. “I think the kids will be fine.” He shook his head. “As much as they can be, at least,” he amended after a few moments of silence.
“I think so too,” Mac agreed. “They have you to talk to.”
“Don’t know how much of a difference that makes,” Don admitted. “But yeah. They do.”
Mac smiled softly. “Did you get the chance to get something to eat?” he wanted to know as he turned toward the bustling city, certain that Don would follow him.
“Yeah,” Don answered, falling into step with him. “What is it you want to talk about?”
Mac gave him an amused glance. “Maybe we should’ve let you become a cop,” he said, his voice dry, “you would’ve been right at home there.”
Don shrugged. “You don’t pick me up from work, and you’re never just in the area,” he said. “It only makes sense that you want to talk about something. Can’t be too much of an emergency, at least not in your eyes, or you would’ve called me home.”
Mac’s smile widened. “You know me too well,” he decided. “Yeah, I wanted to ask you to spend some time with Sheldon tonight.”
“The new blood substitute didn’t work out?” Don guessed, and Mac nodded.
“No, it didn’t. Sheldon…you know him. He is a little bit too focused on this project. He’s neglecting his basic needs.”
“Not like anyone else we know,” Don muttered. He knew that Mac had understood him perfectly well, but it hadn’t stopped him from saying the words, just like it didn’t stop his words from being true. The vampire’s pale skin was not the only sign that he hadn’t had any blood, fresh or otherwise, in quite some time. “When’s the last time you ate, Mac?”
Mac shrugged stiffly. “A few days ago. You know I keep a few bags of blood at the office,” he said.
“Uh-huh,” Don replied sarcastically. “Well, I can tell you that the last time you really had some fresh blood was about three weeks ago.”
“Eighteen days,” Mac automatically corrected with a frown. “Not three weeks.”
“Whatever,” Don replied. “You need to eat, too.”
“Sheldon needs it more than I do,” Mac deflected, just like he’d done it the eighteen days, every time Don, or Sheldon, had brought up his irregular eating habits.
“Your ears are starting to get pointy,” Don said quietly and stopped, forcing Mac to do the same. Don had his arms crossed over his chest, and he was sporting a deep, unhappy frown. “Dammit, Mac, don’t do this to yourself. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with both of you, you know.”
Mac sighed. “We had this discussion,” he pointed out calmly. “We don’t need to have it again.”
Don shook his head, but he decided to let the subject drop. There was no doubt in Mac’s mind that Don would bring it up as soon as he saw an opportunity, and he knew that Don wouldn’t hesitate getting Sheldon involved, as well.
“Are you going to the lab?” Don wanted to know after a long moment of silence. “Or coming home with me?”
“I have a case,” Mac replied, happy about the change of topic. “I will be home around dawn, I think. But Sheldon is there…”
“You sure?” Don asked, but Mac only nodded and reached out again, to brush his fingers over the back of Don’s hand.
“Yeah, I am,” he murmured. “I want you two to have a good time tonight.”
“We’ll try,” Don promised. “All right, I’ll see you later.”
“Be careful,” Mac requested, and Don lifted his hand in a mixture of a salute and a greeting before walking down the street, toward the subway that would take him home. Mac remained frozen to the spot, looking after him even long after Don was gone from his sight.
Sooner or later, he knew, he would have to give in and either drink one of the bags of blood stashed safely away in his office, or he would have to go to Don. He knew that Don wouldn’t reject him and would welcome him with no reservations, and, like many vampires, Mac didn’t like the conserved blood very much. It was nourishment, but it didn’t taste right, and it never had the right temperature, no matter how long he microwaved it.
It just wasn’t the real thing – fresh blood, straight from the vein, was the best thing a vampire could imagine. It was the best kind of nourishment.
The problem, Mac thought while finally turning around and starting to make his way to the lab, was the lack of Blood Donors that were suitable. Not every human’s blood tasted the same, and every vampire had their own taste and not every Donor was compatible with every vampire. To find the right Donor for a vampire was a long and complicated process, and Mac knew that he was extremely fortunate to have Don.
The only drawback was that he had to share his Donor with the vampire he had created several years ago, and while he never regretted turning Sheldon, he knew perfectly well that the vampire that was created from his blood had the same needs in blood that he had. Sharing a Donor was not only logical, but also expected, and Sheldon was so much younger than Mac that he needed to feed much more regularly.
His thoughts circled back to their Donor, and he shook his head slightly. Don couldn’t handle feeding both of them at the same time, he was certain of that, and Mac wouldn’t do anything that would risk Don’s life or well-being.
This, he decided, was not what he wanted to think about while on his way to work. His concentration needed to be back on the cases he was working on, not on his Child and his Donor. He needed to focus.
~*+*~
Danny squinted at the full moon hanging low in the sky and absent-mindedly lifted his hand to rub his left shoulder. The scars hidden by several layers of clothes itched and threatened to distract him from his current task, and Danny took too much pride in his work to let that happen.
He was a good cop, and he knew it. He loved being a cop. Usually, he worked days, but right now, it was close to midnight and he still was on the streets, walking along streets and trying to blend in, to catch a few glimpses of rumors every now and then; rumors that might help him track down another purse-snagging thief.
He was vaguely aware that he should turn around and head back to the precinct, to get changed and go home, and get out of this part of town, which wasn’t the safest even by day. In the middle of the night, it was impossible to say what kind of scum and criminal low-life would lurk behind the next corner, and Danny didn’t have a death wish.
His hand slipped down from his shoulder and brushed against the badge clipped to his belt. Not only did it identify him as a cop, it also protected him from the vampires that occasionally got desperate or bored enough to try and pick up a human for a little snack. Drinking from a cop was a federal offense, and so far, Danny had been lucky and hadn’t been approached by anyone.
He was glad about that. He didn’t know how he would react to a vampire propositioning a little fun to him, but he knew himself well enough to suspect he wouldn’t be very excited about such an offer.
He didn’t trust vampires.
Most of them seemed to be harmless enough, content with their lives and the blood rations and blood donors they had, but every now and then, Danny overheard his co-workers whispering in the break room about a vampire who had gone crazy, attacking humans and falling into a dangerous and unstoppable blood rage. The papers and the news were often filled with reports about blood rage – the less regularly a vampire drank fresh blood, the more likely it was that they would succumb to the madness – but they were just as often filled with the kind of crimes Danny dealt with: robberies, homicides, and drug deals, most of which were not committed by vampires, but by regular people.
He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably and glanced up, at the street lights that were bright enough to illuminate the entire street. The focus of life had shifted to the night as soon as vampires had grown more common, with most humans adapting to the vampires’ inability to go out by day and starting to work at night, as well. Danny actually preferred the day shift, but when Lindsay had asked him to work nights with him, he hadn’t found it in him to refuse her.
Lindsay was the closest friend he had. Years of working together had forged a band between them that, Danny suspected, was a lot like a marriage. They bickered like little children and spent most of the time when they weren’t focused on a case pouting at each other, but Danny wouldn’t trade Lindsay for anything and he would do almost anything for her.
Even work the nightshift in a full moon night, when the vamps went crazy and a lot of humans did, too.
He sighed quietly and decided to turn around, get back to the precinct and home, before he got caught here by a drug dealer with an attitude or anything like that, when bright-flashing red and blue lights caught his attention.
Curiosity piqued, he quickened his pace, walking toward the commotion. Maybe someone needed his help, he rationalized while already reaching for his gun. He didn’t know yet what had happened – or what would happen – but he couldn’t turn away from it, anyways. Drawn to the scene like a moth to a flame, he quickly took in his surroundings as he ducked around the corner of a building.
Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, he found himself held at gunpoint.
“Whoa,” he said and lifted his hands slightly. “I’m a cop, so relax, okay?”
The uniformed man on the other side of the barrel didn’t twitch a muscle. He was wearing the black uniform of the Nightwatch, a special unit that solely dealt with crimes involving vampires.
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m on your side!” Danny tried again. It dawned on him that it might not have been the brightest decision; to walk straight into this situation, without any knowledge of what was going on, and, more importantly, without anyone knowing where he was. He and Lindsay had split up a few hours ago, trying to follow different leads on their case, and they hadn’t bothered with a time or place to hook up again.
Maybe, he thought now as he stood with his hands lifted in the air, that had been a mistake.
He needed to do some quick thinking to get out of this situation again, preferably without too many cops working out of his precinct learning of his predicament, but he didn’t have the slightest idea how to start. The lack of a feasible plan made him decide just to stay where was right now and hope for the best outcome.
Lindsay wouldn’t stop teasing him for weeks if she found out about this – Danny Messer, arrested by their own people, he thought, irritation bubbling up in him. He opened his mouth, but before he could say a single word, the other man took a step to the side.
“Put down the weapon and lie down on the ground!” he ordered, his voice loud and clipped. He didn’t sound as if he had any sense of humor at all, and Danny did as he had been told without a single word of protest crossing his lips.
The situation, he thought darkly when strong hands grabbed his wrists and cuffed them at the small of his back, had just gotten a lot more uncomfortable. Still, there was no reason to panic yet.
There still was the chance that the Nightwatcher would realize that he’d made a mistake and would let him go really soon.
“Hey, listen,” he said, his voice muffled slightly, “my badge is on my belt, you can let me go. I’m a cop. I’m one of the good guys.”
His words brought no reaction, and Danny sighed.
As soon as they brought him to the precinct, someone was bound to recognize him, and if they took his fingerprints, they would soon figure out that he was a cop and would let him go. The only thing that would happen here was that he would miss a few hours of sleep and a decent breakfast at the diner he and Lindsay liked to go to after the end of their shift.
He could survive that.
No, he corrected himself when he was dragged back to his feet, his gun and his badge were collected and he was guided to a car and carefully pushed into it, not only could he survive that. He would get out of this situation with just a bad scare.
They couldn’t keep him locked up. He was a cop, after all, and he hadn’t done anything wrong.
As soon as Lindsay figured out where he was, she would get him out.
He just had to be patient and wait for her to get him.
Nothing easier than that.
~*+*~
“Hey,” Don greeted quietly and pushed the door closed behind himself.
“Hey,” Sheldon replied without turning away from the screen of the laptop in front of him. “How was your day?”
“Long,” Don replied and dropped his keys onto the table. He noted the small key someone had left there and rolled his eyes. Mac was a lot of things, but he wasn’t subtle. “How was yours?”
Sheldon sighed. “I’m sure Mac already told you,” he muttered. “The serum didn’t work.”
“I’m sorry,” Don murmured and reached out, to squeeze Sheldon’s tense shoulder. “Anything I can do?”
“No, I’m fine.” Sheldon leaned back in his chair until the back of his head brushed against Don’s stomach. “What about you, did you have anything to eat yet?”
Don laughed. “Yeah, I’m good,” he promised. “What about you, you hungry?”
“No,” Sheldon said, “not really.” The growling of his stomach, however, was loud enough to make Don chuckle softly.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get comfortable and some food into you.” Stepping back, he retrieved the small key from the table and pressed it into Sheldon’s hand before folding his fingers around the cold metal.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Sheldon murmured softly. He didn’t protest when Don leaned over his shoulder and pushed the laptop closed.
“Starve, probably,” Don muttered fondly. “Come on. Up you go.” He tugged Sheldon to his feet and then toward the other man’s bedroom.
Sheldon laughed and reached for Don’s shoulder. “Maybe,” he murmured, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Don brushed his fingertips against Sheldon’s ear. Unlike Mac’s, it was rounded and looked like it belonged to a human, even if the sharp teeth Sheldon displayed when he opened his mouth definitely weren’t.
“You know,” Sheldon said while reaching up and closing his hand around Don’s forearm. “I met Sid today.”
“Oh really?” Don said with a grin and stepped into Sheldon’s personal space, crowding him against the side of the bed. “What’d he say?”
“That he’s enjoying retirement, mostly,” Sheldon replied and unbuttoned the cuff of Don’s shirt sleeve. “He’s seriously thinking about going back to working as a chef. Or a coroner. He hasn’t decided yet.”
Don shook his head. “I miss that guy,” he admitted. “If there’s anyone who can beat Mac into eating something, it’s Sid.”
“Yeah,” Sheldon agreed. “Maybe we need to trick him.”
“Trick Mac?” Don asked skeptically. “How?”
“I don’t know,” Sheldon said and slid his hands up Don’s arms. “But between you and me, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
He started to unbutton Don’s shirt and pulled it off before frowning slightly. “We wouldn’t have this problem if the serum had worked out,” he murmured morosely.
“Hey,” Don said and gave him a nudge. “The next one will work. Just…don’t stop trying, okay?”
“Don’t worry,” Sheldon promised and tugged Don close to himself. “I won’t.” He turned the small key between his fingers and looked at it thoughtfully.
“Do it,” Don told him firmly.
Like every vampire, Mac was always worried about the safety of his Donor. If anything happened to Don, he and Sheldon wouldn’t have any sources of blood and would be forced to live on stale old blood, blood that wouldn’t be enough to keep them alive for a long time. And like every full-time Donor, Don was fitted with a high collar that protected his neck, the most vulnerable part of a Donor’s body, from other vampires. Only Mac and Sheldon had access to the key that removed the collar, and when Sheldon unbuckled it now, Don took the chance and rolled his head until the bones in his neck cracked loudly.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly when he caught Sheldon’s frown. “What, don’t tell me you just lost your appetite.”
“Not that,” Sheldon replied, “But I’m thinking about suggesting that you stay home tomorrow and leave that collar off.”
“I’m good,” Don promised and tilted his head back. “Go ahead. Do it.”
Sheldon moaned quietly at the offer and grabbed Don’s shoulders, to guide him gently down onto the edge of the mattress. His mouth fastened over Don’s pale throat, instinct taking over as he fitted his sharp and pointy teeth over the vein he intended on biting. He was aware of Don taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, the shoulders under his hands relaxing just as he was biting down gently. The taste of blood quickly filled his mouth, and Sheldon brushed his hands gently down Don’s arms as he swallowed again and again, until the thirst for blood in him was stilled.
Pulling back slightly, he ran his tongue over his teeth to clean them of the last drops of blood before he pressed his lips again tightly over the small puncture wounds. Vampire saliva, he knew, wasn’t actually healing them, but it would seal the wounds and allow Don’s body to heal on its own. It forced a vampire to bite their Donor several times during a long feeding session, to counteract the effect of the saliva, but Sheldon hadn’t needed that much blood today.
“Hey,” he murmured and carefully guided Don down, into the pillows. “You all right?”
“Fine,” Don managed to murmur, but he didn’t protest when Sheldon tugged his pants off with nimble fingers and pulled the sheets up around him.
“Naptime,” Sheldon whispered and curled himself around Don’s body. “And then, you go to your own bed.”
“Sure,” Don mumbled, already more than half-asleep, and rolled onto his side. “Whatever you say, Doc.”
Sheldon sighed, but he pressed himself closer to Don and wrapped an arm around his waist. Pressing his nose against the other man’s shoulder blade, he allowed his eyes to drift shut as his body started to process the fresh blood he’d ingested.
TBC
Author: Kathie (
kathierif_ficFandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: none. This is gen. OMG.
Rating: FRM
Part 1
2.
The halls of the building were quiet, the kind of grave and still quietness that usually belonged into churches and funeral homes, Don Flack thought uncomfortably as he walked quietly toward the front desk, to let the receptionist know that he was leaving. It didn’t belong into a house that was filled with kids of all ages. There should be laughter and teasing and voices and other signs of activity, not this silence that made every of his step echo loudly through the corridor and made him try to tread quietly.
He shook his head and forced a smile on his face before pushing open the glass door that led to the foyer of the building. He had only needed to catch a brief glimpse at the broad back and the short cropped dark hair to recognize the vampire that was standing quietly in front of the desk, trying to make small talk with the receptionist, Anna, and looking as if he was feeling very awkward doing so.
“Mac,” he greeted quietly. The vampire, he knew, had already recognized the sound of his steps, and most likely had smelled that it was him entering the room. Mac didn’t need to turn around to know who entered or exited a room. “What are you doing here?”
Mac turned around and smiled faintly. “I was in the area,” he said and handed Don a paper cup that was steaming faintly and smelled deliciously like coffee. “And I thought I’d pick you up.”
Don raised his eyebrows, skepticism written on every inch of his face, but he decided not to call out Mac on the obvious lie while in public. “I’m done for today,” he announced and directed his smile to Anna while he waited for her to sign him out.
Mac waited patiently while Don scribbled his signature on a sheet of paper and wished Anna a good and peaceful night. He held the door open for the younger man and quietly followed him into the cool night.
Don inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Bad day?” Mac asked and reached out, to brush his fingertips along the cuff of Don’s shirt where it was peeking out from the sleeve of his coat.
Don shrugged. “Three new kids,” he simply said. He didn’t need to add anything else, Mac knew what he was talking about, but still, he couldn’t stop himself. “Single mother, killed by a vampire in rage. He ripped her apart and killed her in front of her kids, Mac.”
“I’m sorry,” Mac murmured softly. He knew that it was more than inadequate, but he didn’t know what else he could offer to Don, who had spent the entire day sitting with three traumatized kids. “I wish…”
Don shook his head before he could add another word. “I know,” he said exhaustedly. “I think the kids will be fine.” He shook his head. “As much as they can be, at least,” he amended after a few moments of silence.
“I think so too,” Mac agreed. “They have you to talk to.”
“Don’t know how much of a difference that makes,” Don admitted. “But yeah. They do.”
Mac smiled softly. “Did you get the chance to get something to eat?” he wanted to know as he turned toward the bustling city, certain that Don would follow him.
“Yeah,” Don answered, falling into step with him. “What is it you want to talk about?”
Mac gave him an amused glance. “Maybe we should’ve let you become a cop,” he said, his voice dry, “you would’ve been right at home there.”
Don shrugged. “You don’t pick me up from work, and you’re never just in the area,” he said. “It only makes sense that you want to talk about something. Can’t be too much of an emergency, at least not in your eyes, or you would’ve called me home.”
Mac’s smile widened. “You know me too well,” he decided. “Yeah, I wanted to ask you to spend some time with Sheldon tonight.”
“The new blood substitute didn’t work out?” Don guessed, and Mac nodded.
“No, it didn’t. Sheldon…you know him. He is a little bit too focused on this project. He’s neglecting his basic needs.”
“Not like anyone else we know,” Don muttered. He knew that Mac had understood him perfectly well, but it hadn’t stopped him from saying the words, just like it didn’t stop his words from being true. The vampire’s pale skin was not the only sign that he hadn’t had any blood, fresh or otherwise, in quite some time. “When’s the last time you ate, Mac?”
Mac shrugged stiffly. “A few days ago. You know I keep a few bags of blood at the office,” he said.
“Uh-huh,” Don replied sarcastically. “Well, I can tell you that the last time you really had some fresh blood was about three weeks ago.”
“Eighteen days,” Mac automatically corrected with a frown. “Not three weeks.”
“Whatever,” Don replied. “You need to eat, too.”
“Sheldon needs it more than I do,” Mac deflected, just like he’d done it the eighteen days, every time Don, or Sheldon, had brought up his irregular eating habits.
“Your ears are starting to get pointy,” Don said quietly and stopped, forcing Mac to do the same. Don had his arms crossed over his chest, and he was sporting a deep, unhappy frown. “Dammit, Mac, don’t do this to yourself. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with both of you, you know.”
Mac sighed. “We had this discussion,” he pointed out calmly. “We don’t need to have it again.”
Don shook his head, but he decided to let the subject drop. There was no doubt in Mac’s mind that Don would bring it up as soon as he saw an opportunity, and he knew that Don wouldn’t hesitate getting Sheldon involved, as well.
“Are you going to the lab?” Don wanted to know after a long moment of silence. “Or coming home with me?”
“I have a case,” Mac replied, happy about the change of topic. “I will be home around dawn, I think. But Sheldon is there…”
“You sure?” Don asked, but Mac only nodded and reached out again, to brush his fingers over the back of Don’s hand.
“Yeah, I am,” he murmured. “I want you two to have a good time tonight.”
“We’ll try,” Don promised. “All right, I’ll see you later.”
“Be careful,” Mac requested, and Don lifted his hand in a mixture of a salute and a greeting before walking down the street, toward the subway that would take him home. Mac remained frozen to the spot, looking after him even long after Don was gone from his sight.
Sooner or later, he knew, he would have to give in and either drink one of the bags of blood stashed safely away in his office, or he would have to go to Don. He knew that Don wouldn’t reject him and would welcome him with no reservations, and, like many vampires, Mac didn’t like the conserved blood very much. It was nourishment, but it didn’t taste right, and it never had the right temperature, no matter how long he microwaved it.
It just wasn’t the real thing – fresh blood, straight from the vein, was the best thing a vampire could imagine. It was the best kind of nourishment.
The problem, Mac thought while finally turning around and starting to make his way to the lab, was the lack of Blood Donors that were suitable. Not every human’s blood tasted the same, and every vampire had their own taste and not every Donor was compatible with every vampire. To find the right Donor for a vampire was a long and complicated process, and Mac knew that he was extremely fortunate to have Don.
The only drawback was that he had to share his Donor with the vampire he had created several years ago, and while he never regretted turning Sheldon, he knew perfectly well that the vampire that was created from his blood had the same needs in blood that he had. Sharing a Donor was not only logical, but also expected, and Sheldon was so much younger than Mac that he needed to feed much more regularly.
His thoughts circled back to their Donor, and he shook his head slightly. Don couldn’t handle feeding both of them at the same time, he was certain of that, and Mac wouldn’t do anything that would risk Don’s life or well-being.
This, he decided, was not what he wanted to think about while on his way to work. His concentration needed to be back on the cases he was working on, not on his Child and his Donor. He needed to focus.
~*+*~
Danny squinted at the full moon hanging low in the sky and absent-mindedly lifted his hand to rub his left shoulder. The scars hidden by several layers of clothes itched and threatened to distract him from his current task, and Danny took too much pride in his work to let that happen.
He was a good cop, and he knew it. He loved being a cop. Usually, he worked days, but right now, it was close to midnight and he still was on the streets, walking along streets and trying to blend in, to catch a few glimpses of rumors every now and then; rumors that might help him track down another purse-snagging thief.
He was vaguely aware that he should turn around and head back to the precinct, to get changed and go home, and get out of this part of town, which wasn’t the safest even by day. In the middle of the night, it was impossible to say what kind of scum and criminal low-life would lurk behind the next corner, and Danny didn’t have a death wish.
His hand slipped down from his shoulder and brushed against the badge clipped to his belt. Not only did it identify him as a cop, it also protected him from the vampires that occasionally got desperate or bored enough to try and pick up a human for a little snack. Drinking from a cop was a federal offense, and so far, Danny had been lucky and hadn’t been approached by anyone.
He was glad about that. He didn’t know how he would react to a vampire propositioning a little fun to him, but he knew himself well enough to suspect he wouldn’t be very excited about such an offer.
He didn’t trust vampires.
Most of them seemed to be harmless enough, content with their lives and the blood rations and blood donors they had, but every now and then, Danny overheard his co-workers whispering in the break room about a vampire who had gone crazy, attacking humans and falling into a dangerous and unstoppable blood rage. The papers and the news were often filled with reports about blood rage – the less regularly a vampire drank fresh blood, the more likely it was that they would succumb to the madness – but they were just as often filled with the kind of crimes Danny dealt with: robberies, homicides, and drug deals, most of which were not committed by vampires, but by regular people.
He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably and glanced up, at the street lights that were bright enough to illuminate the entire street. The focus of life had shifted to the night as soon as vampires had grown more common, with most humans adapting to the vampires’ inability to go out by day and starting to work at night, as well. Danny actually preferred the day shift, but when Lindsay had asked him to work nights with him, he hadn’t found it in him to refuse her.
Lindsay was the closest friend he had. Years of working together had forged a band between them that, Danny suspected, was a lot like a marriage. They bickered like little children and spent most of the time when they weren’t focused on a case pouting at each other, but Danny wouldn’t trade Lindsay for anything and he would do almost anything for her.
Even work the nightshift in a full moon night, when the vamps went crazy and a lot of humans did, too.
He sighed quietly and decided to turn around, get back to the precinct and home, before he got caught here by a drug dealer with an attitude or anything like that, when bright-flashing red and blue lights caught his attention.
Curiosity piqued, he quickened his pace, walking toward the commotion. Maybe someone needed his help, he rationalized while already reaching for his gun. He didn’t know yet what had happened – or what would happen – but he couldn’t turn away from it, anyways. Drawn to the scene like a moth to a flame, he quickly took in his surroundings as he ducked around the corner of a building.
Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, he found himself held at gunpoint.
“Whoa,” he said and lifted his hands slightly. “I’m a cop, so relax, okay?”
The uniformed man on the other side of the barrel didn’t twitch a muscle. He was wearing the black uniform of the Nightwatch, a special unit that solely dealt with crimes involving vampires.
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m on your side!” Danny tried again. It dawned on him that it might not have been the brightest decision; to walk straight into this situation, without any knowledge of what was going on, and, more importantly, without anyone knowing where he was. He and Lindsay had split up a few hours ago, trying to follow different leads on their case, and they hadn’t bothered with a time or place to hook up again.
Maybe, he thought now as he stood with his hands lifted in the air, that had been a mistake.
He needed to do some quick thinking to get out of this situation again, preferably without too many cops working out of his precinct learning of his predicament, but he didn’t have the slightest idea how to start. The lack of a feasible plan made him decide just to stay where was right now and hope for the best outcome.
Lindsay wouldn’t stop teasing him for weeks if she found out about this – Danny Messer, arrested by their own people, he thought, irritation bubbling up in him. He opened his mouth, but before he could say a single word, the other man took a step to the side.
“Put down the weapon and lie down on the ground!” he ordered, his voice loud and clipped. He didn’t sound as if he had any sense of humor at all, and Danny did as he had been told without a single word of protest crossing his lips.
The situation, he thought darkly when strong hands grabbed his wrists and cuffed them at the small of his back, had just gotten a lot more uncomfortable. Still, there was no reason to panic yet.
There still was the chance that the Nightwatcher would realize that he’d made a mistake and would let him go really soon.
“Hey, listen,” he said, his voice muffled slightly, “my badge is on my belt, you can let me go. I’m a cop. I’m one of the good guys.”
His words brought no reaction, and Danny sighed.
As soon as they brought him to the precinct, someone was bound to recognize him, and if they took his fingerprints, they would soon figure out that he was a cop and would let him go. The only thing that would happen here was that he would miss a few hours of sleep and a decent breakfast at the diner he and Lindsay liked to go to after the end of their shift.
He could survive that.
No, he corrected himself when he was dragged back to his feet, his gun and his badge were collected and he was guided to a car and carefully pushed into it, not only could he survive that. He would get out of this situation with just a bad scare.
They couldn’t keep him locked up. He was a cop, after all, and he hadn’t done anything wrong.
As soon as Lindsay figured out where he was, she would get him out.
He just had to be patient and wait for her to get him.
Nothing easier than that.
~*+*~
“Hey,” Don greeted quietly and pushed the door closed behind himself.
“Hey,” Sheldon replied without turning away from the screen of the laptop in front of him. “How was your day?”
“Long,” Don replied and dropped his keys onto the table. He noted the small key someone had left there and rolled his eyes. Mac was a lot of things, but he wasn’t subtle. “How was yours?”
Sheldon sighed. “I’m sure Mac already told you,” he muttered. “The serum didn’t work.”
“I’m sorry,” Don murmured and reached out, to squeeze Sheldon’s tense shoulder. “Anything I can do?”
“No, I’m fine.” Sheldon leaned back in his chair until the back of his head brushed against Don’s stomach. “What about you, did you have anything to eat yet?”
Don laughed. “Yeah, I’m good,” he promised. “What about you, you hungry?”
“No,” Sheldon said, “not really.” The growling of his stomach, however, was loud enough to make Don chuckle softly.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get comfortable and some food into you.” Stepping back, he retrieved the small key from the table and pressed it into Sheldon’s hand before folding his fingers around the cold metal.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Sheldon murmured softly. He didn’t protest when Don leaned over his shoulder and pushed the laptop closed.
“Starve, probably,” Don muttered fondly. “Come on. Up you go.” He tugged Sheldon to his feet and then toward the other man’s bedroom.
Sheldon laughed and reached for Don’s shoulder. “Maybe,” he murmured, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Don brushed his fingertips against Sheldon’s ear. Unlike Mac’s, it was rounded and looked like it belonged to a human, even if the sharp teeth Sheldon displayed when he opened his mouth definitely weren’t.
“You know,” Sheldon said while reaching up and closing his hand around Don’s forearm. “I met Sid today.”
“Oh really?” Don said with a grin and stepped into Sheldon’s personal space, crowding him against the side of the bed. “What’d he say?”
“That he’s enjoying retirement, mostly,” Sheldon replied and unbuttoned the cuff of Don’s shirt sleeve. “He’s seriously thinking about going back to working as a chef. Or a coroner. He hasn’t decided yet.”
Don shook his head. “I miss that guy,” he admitted. “If there’s anyone who can beat Mac into eating something, it’s Sid.”
“Yeah,” Sheldon agreed. “Maybe we need to trick him.”
“Trick Mac?” Don asked skeptically. “How?”
“I don’t know,” Sheldon said and slid his hands up Don’s arms. “But between you and me, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
He started to unbutton Don’s shirt and pulled it off before frowning slightly. “We wouldn’t have this problem if the serum had worked out,” he murmured morosely.
“Hey,” Don said and gave him a nudge. “The next one will work. Just…don’t stop trying, okay?”
“Don’t worry,” Sheldon promised and tugged Don close to himself. “I won’t.” He turned the small key between his fingers and looked at it thoughtfully.
“Do it,” Don told him firmly.
Like every vampire, Mac was always worried about the safety of his Donor. If anything happened to Don, he and Sheldon wouldn’t have any sources of blood and would be forced to live on stale old blood, blood that wouldn’t be enough to keep them alive for a long time. And like every full-time Donor, Don was fitted with a high collar that protected his neck, the most vulnerable part of a Donor’s body, from other vampires. Only Mac and Sheldon had access to the key that removed the collar, and when Sheldon unbuckled it now, Don took the chance and rolled his head until the bones in his neck cracked loudly.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly when he caught Sheldon’s frown. “What, don’t tell me you just lost your appetite.”
“Not that,” Sheldon replied, “But I’m thinking about suggesting that you stay home tomorrow and leave that collar off.”
“I’m good,” Don promised and tilted his head back. “Go ahead. Do it.”
Sheldon moaned quietly at the offer and grabbed Don’s shoulders, to guide him gently down onto the edge of the mattress. His mouth fastened over Don’s pale throat, instinct taking over as he fitted his sharp and pointy teeth over the vein he intended on biting. He was aware of Don taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, the shoulders under his hands relaxing just as he was biting down gently. The taste of blood quickly filled his mouth, and Sheldon brushed his hands gently down Don’s arms as he swallowed again and again, until the thirst for blood in him was stilled.
Pulling back slightly, he ran his tongue over his teeth to clean them of the last drops of blood before he pressed his lips again tightly over the small puncture wounds. Vampire saliva, he knew, wasn’t actually healing them, but it would seal the wounds and allow Don’s body to heal on its own. It forced a vampire to bite their Donor several times during a long feeding session, to counteract the effect of the saliva, but Sheldon hadn’t needed that much blood today.
“Hey,” he murmured and carefully guided Don down, into the pillows. “You all right?”
“Fine,” Don managed to murmur, but he didn’t protest when Sheldon tugged his pants off with nimble fingers and pulled the sheets up around him.
“Naptime,” Sheldon whispered and curled himself around Don’s body. “And then, you go to your own bed.”
“Sure,” Don mumbled, already more than half-asleep, and rolled onto his side. “Whatever you say, Doc.”
Sheldon sighed, but he pressed himself closer to Don and wrapped an arm around his waist. Pressing his nose against the other man’s shoulder blade, he allowed his eyes to drift shut as his body started to process the fresh blood he’d ingested.
TBC