Plan B


by Aidan Boyle
1305575161|%e %b %Y, %H:%M %Z|agohover (updated 1307915087|%e %b %Y, %H:%M %Z|agohover) | 0 comment(s)

IC Date: April 10, 2011 — Early Evening
This episode takes place the following night following the log Dancing with Danger

Watching Aidan sleep is a fascinating past time for Kim. He has told her that what he does between sunrise and sunset is nothing akin to sleep as she knows it; he does not close his eyes and pass into slumber. Aidan says - when she wheedle these little nuggets of information out of him at all — that he is merely no longer there; no consciousness, no link to the world around him until the sun sinks beneath the horizon again. Knowing that only makes the observing that much more interesting.

When he is awake, Aidan is a mimicry of humanity on all levels. He walks, he talks; he eats, and laughs and plays. Aidan breathes though he has no need of oxygen in the way that humans do; his heart beats within his chest, and aside from his slightly cooler body the only time one is aware that Aidan is not a real boy is when Aidan wants one to be aware of it; or when the mask slips and the little mannerisms show through, the predatory reactions, the seconds when his eyes and face will be more something else than a reflection of humanity.

This is why Kim is fascinated by watching him sleep. There is utter stillness about him as he lies there on the bed. His chest does not rise and fall, the heart does not beat. That he is not human, not alive there is no doubt, and Kim should find this creepy and disturbing. Instead she is mesmerized by the sight of him, frozen in time for centuries in that youthful shell. He is like a sublime, classical piece of art, carved from marble in a perfect echo of humanity. He is beautiful to the eyes, dark hair and long dark lashes a contrast to his pale skin.

Kim reaches out a hand to brush the unruly fringe away from his forehead and then jerks back sharply as the sun begins to set. It’s not the clock that speaks the time, but the sudden arching of Aidan’s back off the bed as he draws in a huge draught of air. Muscles cord in his neck and arms, flexed to the point of strain it seems. His eyes are wide, staring at the ceiling but wholly unseeing even as his body drops back down to the mattress. A brief grimace of pain mars his handsome features - he has told Kim that ‘sleeping’ is far more pleasant than ‘waking’ but details have been lacking - and she wonders -

Nothing. A spark of panic rises inside of her as she finds herself abruptly on her back beneath the vampire’s body. A cool, strong hand is wrapped around her throat, her arms stretched taut above her head near to the point of dislocating both shoulders. The fear is primal, instinctive; the urge to fight against and run away from the dangerous predator whose face hovers above hers screams out in every part of Kim’s body. Aidan’s eyes are feral, blood dark, fangs extended and it’s only through strength of will and years of association that Kim remains still. She forces her breath to something normal and her heart beat to still, though the scent of fear she knows she can do nothing about.

“Kim,” Aidan growls. His eyes bleed back to faded denim, and the grip on her throat loosens allowing Kim to take a gasp of air that she didn’t realize she needs. He doesn’t release her wrists, and Kim is far too aware of the weight of his body pressing her down. “I’ve told you to not hover when I’m first waking. One of these days, I’m going to end up ripping your throat out.”

“No you won’t,” Kim croons softly, the tone one would use with a frightened child or skittish animal. “I trust you, Aidan. You haven’t killed me.”

The grip on her wrists tightens, the tug on her arms increases. There’s a cold, hard warning in her vampire master’s eyes, it burns through her and into the sting of muscles cramping and twisting beneath the force on her body until she frowns and gives a quiet cry, “Aidan -” It’s two parts pain and one part something else, and Kim knows it’s twisted but she’s long been past caring.

“Yet,” Aidan bites off. Warning delivered - and Kim has no doubt that it is a warning - Aidan releases her and rolls off of her body and out of the bed in one sinuous, graceful motion. “You’re here early. What’s the crisis?”

Kim idly rubs her wrists. There will be bruises, already she can see the faint pinking of her skin. “No crisis. I was a bit concerned about you.” She looks away from her wrists, resigned to long sleeves and bracelets for the next few days. Her eyes trail over the damnably handsome and wholly immodest vampire as he parades nude toward the bathroom. “Your playmates made it home this morning. All except the one. She said you asked her to stay for dinner?”

“Eshe,” Aidan tosses a grin over his shoulder at Kim. “She’s from Mozambique. So much more appealing than her friends. She has the cutest little accent, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, I did notice that you had your own personal little multicultural harem last night.” Really, Aidan has never been particular so long as the bodies are beautiful and willing and the blood is warm. However, when he begins to make an effort to create themes and patterns, or feels the need for a party in multiples, it raises a flag for Kim. “What was that about then?”

“I was really, really bored and lonely.”

Kim follows him into the bathroom because it’s clear that he doesn’t intend to stop what he’s doing to actually talk to her. “It has nothing to do with that witch being in the restaurant again? You disappeared pretty quickly after talking to her.”

The vampire steps under the hot spray of the shower, pulling the glass door closed. He tilts his head back, allowing the water to cascade over his face and down his toned body. Kim gives him another appreciative once over before focusing her gaze on the mirror that is slowly fogging over.

“Your silence is telling, Aidan,” Kim points out. “Did she manage to piss you off again? Throw off your glamour?” Turning, Kim hops up on the bathroom counter, crossing one leg over the other. “I do believe that I told you she is not worth it.”

“We had a very pleasant night.” Kim turns back at the sound of his voice, not truly expecting him to answer. She immediately steels herself and averts her gaze again, not really needing to watch Aidan lather soap over his body. “I took her to Vortex, we had a drink. We danced. I played so very very nicely with her.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“Oooh,” the word is a low hungry growl. “She is so innocent and sweet. So naive. She looked up at me with those bright, innocent eyes and I just wanted to shag her senseless and rip into her pretty little throat while doing it.”

That actually explains Aidan’s triplets of fun last night. He restrained himself in the presence of the witch, locked down the predator; then felt the need to make up for it something fierce. Kim looks over at the shower stall, keeping her eyes focused carefully on some spot over Aidan’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you?”

“It would have been over too quick.” Simple, matter of fact statement. He dunks his head under the water again, rinsing the soap from his hair. “She is so very judgemental and moralistic … so far up on her pedestal of good and evil and right and wrong.” Aidan reaches out and turns off the shower.

Kim can already see where this is going. Aidan’s … hobbies … are a curious sort, really. He exists as close to humanity as possible, using his victims for sex and blood, with them leaving none the wiser about the blood - unless they like that sort of thing. Every now and then though, he finds amusement in raising the stakes, in seeing if he can tarnish purity and destroy innocence. It’s a challenge that he lives for, and if it keeps him entertained and out of trouble, Kim doesn’t interfere.

She tosses Aidan a towel as he opens the shower door. He grasps it and begins wrapping it around his waist as he steps from the shower. Kim makes a special effort to not watch the rolling and weaving droplets of water on his torso. “Don’t you think that you’re stretching it now? Treat her like all the rest, Aidan and be done with it.”

“But Kimmy, that wouldn’t be any fun.” Aidan steps up to the counter, leaning against it. His blue eyes twinkle, but it’s not light or playful. There’s a deviant sort of darkness there which doesn’t frighten Kim as much as it probably should. “You’re the one who’s saying I need to get a hobby.”

“A new hobby,” Kim corrects. “You’re just re-treading old ground.”

Aidan taps her nose with his fingertip. “Don’t get jealous, Kim. She’s just a toy. They’re all just toys.”

Kim grabs his finger, twisting his hand down and back until she feels the muscles tense and bone resisting. It doesn’t truly hurt him, and she knows it, but it’s one way she can make a point. Though probably not as strongly one as she would like given that Aidan’s smile is one of amusement, and she knows that the deceptively handsome man-creature likes pain. “She’s a witch.” Beat. Kim releases his hand, giving him a rough shove away from her. “You’re playing with fire. She can hurt you in ways that a regular human can’t.”

“She can,” Aidan agrees. The smile broadens and grows even darker, if that’s possible. “But I don’t think the little witchling is quite as sweet and innocent as she thinks she is.”

Kim cocks her head. “All the more reason to leave well enough alone.”

“If it doesn’t have a little risk, then it isn’t worth doing.” Aidan smirks and strolls toward the bathroom door. He tips a sly glance over his shoulder at Kim, “But you already know that. You like the fire, Kim.”

She doesn’t bother arguing with him, because it’s pointless when he’s right. Sliding off the counter, she follows him into the bedroom. “Is last night going to become a regular occurrence? I’d like to know how big of a mess I have to clean up in the mornings.”

“I’ll try to keep the blood to a minimum.”

“Of course you will.” Kim sighs and walks to the bedroom door. Looking over her shoulder, she calls back, “Don’t forget your dinner with her cute little accent is waiting.”


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