Topic: A Broken Night

Victoria Granger

Date: 2011-10-23 23:22 EST
A few drinks, a few kisses, a few secrets shared, some Chinese to fill their stomachs and a lot of laughter. All things considered, the date had gone well thus far. Jon hadn't scared Vicki away yet and was slowly but surely opening up to her more, getting more comfortable with her. Already fond of her, she was growing on him, and he found that she was always somehow able to make him laugh and forget about his problems for a while. They watched some random movie on TV and settled in for the night, him literally giving her the shirt off his back. Nothing went on in the bed, other than some snuggling and smooching. Neither of them seemed quite ready to take the next step yet, but neither did they want to spend the night alone.

As for himself, he'd watched her for a little while before finally drifting off, eyelids too heavy to stay open any longer. He felt peaceful and content there beside her, all his worries far away. At least, for a while, but it didn't last.

Somewhere around four a.m. was when the bubble burst. He started feeling restless, still dark outside, with dawn still a few hours away. He'd been taking precautions to keep the vampires away, doing everything everyone had advised him to do, but nothing was foolproof. He heard Josephine calling him, summoning him even while he slept, taunting him, tempting him. After a while, he'd awoken with a start, heart pounding, t-shirt soaked in sweat. He'd somehow managed to slip out of the bed without waking Vicki, and gone to the living room to try and wait it out. It was almost enough to drive him mad, but he knew if he could hold out 'til dawn, the vampire would eventually leave him in peace. At least, while it was daylight. Afraid to look outside, afraid to see her there waiting for him, he perched himself in a chair, hands gripping the arms so hard his knuckles turned white.

The absence of Jon beside her was enough to bring Vicki stirring from sleep, blue eyes blinking open in vague confusion as she rolled onto her back, looking around the darkened room in search of him. Rubbing her eyes clear, she slid from the bed, ridiculously small in his shirt, and padded softly to the door, peering into the living room in concern. "Jon?"

This was madness. He couldn't live like this much longer. If he did, he'd either end up giving in to Josephine's will, killing himself, or going mad, and none of those were viable options. His shape could just be made out, a quiet silhouette in the moonlight, seated in a chair as still as a statue, the only visible movement the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. "Jon, are you okay?" Vicki's voice was a little rough with sleep, but her uncertain worry was clear as day as she moved into the living room, approaching his still form to crouch down. Shaking the sleeve of his shirt back from her hand, she let her fingers wrap over his. "Jon?"

It was hard to see in the dark, but his face looked strained, an almost haunted look in his eyes, like he'd awoken from a nightmare or was still in the midst of one. Hands gripping the chair tightly, damp curls stuck to his forehead. Though he was sweating, his skin felt cold and clammy, his breathing a little shallow. In a word, he looked terrified.

"Oh God, Jon, what is it' Are you ill?" Leaning up, Vicki touched her hand to his forehead, gently brushing the curls from his sweat-slicked skin to feel the coolness of his temple. She didn't know what was wrong, or what she could do to help, but she couldn't leave him here all alone in the dark. Moving to rise, she turned to flick the light switch, illuminating the room with stark, bright light.

He winced at the sudden onslaught of bright light, almost flinching from it, blinking. Now that the room was illuminated, his face looked pale, but not sickly. The expression on his face was more of one who was lost in the clutches of some nightmare they couldn't find their way out of.

Vicki didn't know what was she was looking at, what had disturbed him so much to bring him out here to sit in silence and distress. She returned to his side, again stroking her fingers over his hand and cheek, pleading with him to at least acknowledge her. "Jon, please. Whatever it is, it's okay. You're safe ....I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

Haunted blue eyes slid to her face at the sound of her voice, drawing him away from the call of the vampire and the hold she had on his mind. It was taking all his strength to fight that call and focus his attention on the woman there with him, like a light in the darkness. With great effort, he forced his lips to move, to form words, his voice hoarse, strained with the effort. "What ....what time is it?"

"Oh, thank God." She breathed a deep sigh of relief when his eyes finally focused on hers, alarmed by the ghosts that seemed to be haunting him still but reassured that whatever it was hadn't won. "About four," she told him quietly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Four ..." he repeated, closing his eyes and taking a slow breath. Another hour or so until the first rays of sunlight chased away the darkness. "God ..." He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to banish that other voice from his head. His fingers found hers and held on tightly, like he might drown without that touch. "Stay." It was only a word, but it seemed to speak volumes. The one thing he needed right now more than anything else was not to be left alone.

"I'm staying." She couldn't quite hide the wince that came when he gripped her hand that tightly, making a mental note not to let Jon see her fingers in the morning in case they bruised under his grasp. Stretching a little, she snagged the forgotten blanket from the couch and carefully slid herself onto the arm of his chair, keeping her hand in his even as she draped the blanket over them both. Her other arm wrapped about his shoulders, her cheek resting against his curls. "I'm here."

He leaned into her embrace, and she would feel the tension in his body, his shoulders hard, muscles tense, taut as a wire ready to snap. There wasn't any pain, but Josephine's call was strong and it was taking all his strength and will power to fight it. "Talk to me," he told Vicki, needing to hear her voice drowning out the voice of the other.

For a moment, Vicki was speechless in the way all people get when asked to speak. But she cleared her throat, dredging up something random and innocuous to fill the silence as her fingers stroked his hair gently. "Did I tell you about my home back on Earth' Cornwall's a beautiful county ....all hills and mountains and rugged cliffs falling away to the sea. You'd like it there, I think ....there are so many places to explore ..."

He closed his eyes, trying to visualize it in his mind and banish the dark thoughts from his head. "Sounds ....beautiful," he said, voice strained, fighting for every word, clinging to her, the sound of her voice, forcing himself to focus on her presence.

Victoria Granger

Date: 2011-10-23 23:23 EST
"My dad lives just outside Truro, and there's a brilliant clifftop walk not even three miles from the house," she went on, clutching at straws to keep her little monologue going, hoping it was helping him with whatever had taken hold. Hoping he'd explain what was going on sooner rather than later. "The first time I did it on my own, I was seven years old, and I remember standing on the cliff edge, looking out at the wild sea and the stormy sky, and just knowing that it was a part of me. No matter where I go, I carry a little bit of home with me."

He could almost see the place in his mind's eye, the sea and the sky and the cliff jutting out over it all. He imagined himself there, standing on that cliff, teetering on the edge, the rocks and water a long drop below, and felt himself shudder. "Why did you leave?" he asked. Having asked it before, he already knew her answer, yet he sensed there was more to the story than what she'd told him.

"I suppose you could say I was running away," she murmured, wondering why she was admitting to that feeling when it was only recently she had realised it herself. "Not from anyone or anything. More from myself, I suppose. I'd gotten myself into a relationship that wasn't going anywhere, I couldn't get any work after the studios who'd hired me collapsed, and Dad had just started seeing Marie ....I was in the way and I didn't know what I was doing with myself. So when Mataya invited me here, I had nothing to lose by coming."

He quietly took that in, somehow having known there had to be more to her fleeing such a beautiful place that obviously tugged at her heart than just a job opportunity. Despite the pull of the vampire, he was hearing every word. She wasn't just droning on uselessly. He clung to every word, almost empathically feeling what she might have been feeling. "Do you miss it?" he asked, his voice quiet, but steadier.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't," she smiled faintly, tilting her head to brush her lips against his hair momentarily, her relief growing at the slightly more normal tone to his voice. "But I don't think I'm ready to go back, not yet. There's too much here to explore before I do that."

"I'm glad you're here," he admitted, sounding tired, but not defeated, never defeated. He had too much to live for, especially now. He took comfort in her tenderness, her show of affection, her presence giving him the strength and the will to go on. Jon turned his face toward her, relaxing a little, the haunted expression slowly fading as the dawn pressed closer.

"I am, too," she whispered, brushing a second kiss after the first as she felt the tension begin to bleed from his frame little by little. "If only to make sure you eat a decent amount of fibre every day."

He wasn't only glad she had come to Rhy'Din but glad she was with him, right then and there, determined to fight this, to reclaim his life, and never look back. He even smiled at her attempt to tease him, a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. And with that smile, the vampire lost her hold completely and her voice faded into silence.

She didn't know how, but somehow Vicki knew when he was back. It could have been any number of things; a change in his breathing, the way his shoulders relaxed, the loosening of that death grip about her fingers. "Do you want a drink?" she asked softly. "I'm up now, sleep isn't going to happen again tonight." She might have been throwing him a bone, a way to avoid going back to sleep without admitting to not wanting to himself.

"Tea ..." he admitted, not ready to go back to bed either and not wanting anything stronger than caffeine. Maybe when daylight came, he'd sneak a few hours sleep, but not now. Even though he'd relaxed, he felt like he'd just run a marathon. He glanced at the windows, seeing the darkness was just starting to turn to gray, that lifeless color just before dawn.

"Tea it is, then. Good old British builder's tea." Tossing the blanket back over onto the couch, Vicki let her bare feet find the floor again, pulling Jon up with her in answer to the little voice inside telling her not to leave him on his own just yet. "Come on, you," she told him fondly. "You can give me directions around your woefully underused kitchen."

He climbed to his feet at her insistence, feeling a little hollow and worn out, but his mind was his own again and for that he was grateful. He knew it was only a matter of time before she demanded an explanation and he wasn't quite sure what he was going to tell her yet, but he knew it was time for him to finish this, no matter what it took. It had gone on long enough. "My woefully underused kitchen might get used more if you visited more often." He actually liked cooking, just not for himself.

"Are you extending an invitation to make use of your facilities whenever I fancy?" she asked, quietly and gently returning to the normality of her teasing smiles as she looked over her shoulder at him. It was just as well she was a few inches shorter than him, or the shirt she'd taken off his back to sleep in would have been doubly indecent. As it was, there might have been just a little too much suggested by the looseness of the fabric draped around her.

"So long as you don't leave your bras and panties hanging all over my bathroom." He smirked, the dark cloud lifting, though the last tendrils of it still clung like a slowly fading nightmare. He was in a t-shirt and boxers, leaving little to the imagination. He'd managed to fill back out after the shooting, regaining the weight he'd lost, his build tall, solid, and athletic, but not overly muscular. He settled himself on a chair at the table, still feeling a bit shaky, not quite trusting his legs just yet. He shoved some tousled curls aside and let his eyes wander over her, smiling. "My shirt looks better on you than it does on me."

Rolling the sleeves back to her elbows to keep her hands free of their interference, Vicki flicked a flattered smile over to him as she filled the kettle, setting it to boil with one hand absently making sure that the hem of said shirt was still hanging below the level of her bottom. "I highly doubt that, but it's very kind of you to say so," she chuckled softly, aware that he had a good view of her toned legs no matter what she did. "Teapot, tea?"

He was a little distractedly staring at her legs beneath his shirt, and the curves he could just barely make out beneath the white linen. "Oh, uh ..." He pointed at a few canisters that lined a corner of the cupboard. "The smallest one. I don't drink tea very often, but sometimes I find it soothing."

"I practically live on the stuff," she informed him, utterly unashamed of living up to the stereotype as she chuckled her way through the motions of loading the ceramic ball ready to steep in the pot when the water had boiled. Of course, this required her arms to lift, which brought the hem of the shirt in an upward direction; it was just as well she hadn't noticed him staring, or he might have seen another blush as well as a glimpse of what resided at the top of her legs. "So you've really never been to Cornwall?"

Victoria Granger

Date: 2011-10-23 23:24 EST
He smirked a little at the flash of flesh beneath his shirt, but he said nothing of it, not wanting to embarrass her, even though she'd probably tease him relentlessly were the tables turned. "No, just London. A little stage, interviews, advertisements; nothing too overt."

"We'll have to correct that, then." There was nothing in her tone but the confident assumption that she would be the one to introduce him to her home when the time came, despite how desperately she wanted to know what the hell had happened. Eyeing him for a moment, she grinned suddenly. "Oh, I know about the adverts," she assured him sweetly. "My best friend kept pulling them out of her magazines and sticking them on her walls."

"Oh?" He chuckled a little at that bit of information. "What about you? Immune to my chiseled good looks and gentlemanly charm?" He lifted his hands to form air quotes as he spoke. He hadn't made that up. It was something he'd read that had been written about him somewhere.

Arms wrapped about herself, she turned, leaning back against the counter opposite where he sat to give the tea time to steep in the pot. A cheeky little smirk flickered over her face at his question. "Well, until I saw the rugged and lickable Jonathan Granger up close, I could have sworn you were airbrushed to death, so yes," she grinned impishly. "A picture's just a picture, after all."

He laughed. "Lickable" I don't recall you licking me just yet. I think I feel cheated." He looked her over a moment, an easy going smile on his face. She didn't look half bad after being in bed for a few hours. In fact, he thought she looked rather adorable standing there in his shirt, with her red hair a little mussed from his bed. "Oh, I've been airbrushed. No one is perfect."

"That'll be another of my inspired promises," she assured him, laughing. "It'll happen when you least expect it, probably. Mugs?" It must have been a British thing, this asking a question without quite forming the full sentence. Or it could have been her lack of proper coherence every time she looked over at Jon; for someone who had been tense and unmoving only minutes ago, he was certainly achieving an interesting effect on her ability to keep her mind on topic. "I feel I should warn you, I am a morning person," she added, and then closed her eyes, turning away hurriedly. Why on earth had she offered over that intimate little detail without prompting"

Well, he was an actor after all, and the more they talked, the more relaxed he felt. He arched a brow at her when she turned away from him, wondering where that had come from and what it implied exactly. He thought on that a moment, unsure how to reply. Years of theater had made him a night-owl, but lately, he found himself savoring the daylight. He was changing. "Does that mean you turn in by midnight and get up at the crack of dawn?"

"Uh ..." She flushed crimson for a moment, turning away to search out mugs, inadvertantly giving him another little display to enjoy. "Not exactly." She was in the same industry, after all; they all kept late hours, usually. "I, um ....Oh hells." Laughing as she poured the tea into a pair of mugs she had found, Vicki gave up on being subtle. "I'm at my horniest after I wake up. Mind you, I can be pretty horny at all other times of the day and night, too."

"Oh." He blinked in surprise at that little tidbit. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Well, I didn't really need to share it, did I?" she laughed, forcing herself to turn back toward him with the mugs in her hand. Her grin was wide and only slightly embarrassed as she approached the table.

"I'm probably going to find out sooner or later, don't you think?" he smiled reassuringly when she reached the table, reaching over to relieve her of one of the mugs.

"Oh, I think we're a long ways past probably," she agreed with a giggle, pulling out the chair beside his to lower herself into it with only a faint squeak for the cold surface on her skin. "I'd say it's a certainty."

He would normally have pulled a chair out for her, but he lacked the strength to get up and do it, just yet. He chuckled at the squeak. "There's a robe in the bedroom."

"Too late," she smiled, demurely remembering to cross one leg over the other before twisting to face him. Her hand rose to stroke his cheek gently with the backs of her fingers. "Feeling a little better now?"

"Yeah," he forced a weak smile, hoping to look reassuring. "Nightmare, I guess. I have them sometimes." He didn't like lying to her, but what else was he supposed to tell her? He averted his gaze to the contents of his mug, turning the cup between his hands. "Vicki ..."

"When you're ready." She didn't even wait for him to finish saying her name before she insisted upon that, inching her chair closer to his. "You had me worried for a while there, but you pulled out of whatever it was. So you tell me when you're ready, not because you think you should."

He lifted his head, looking back at her, worried she'd think the wrong thing if he was to ask what he was considering asking. He had to choose his words wisely, but no matter how he said it, it was probably going to come out sounding bad. "I like you ....a lot ..."

She eyed him thoughtfully, the flicker of a former conversation making itself known at the back of her mind. "But you're not going to call me for a while," she guessed quietly, hoping she was wrong.

He sighed, shoving his fingers through his hair, a propped up arm holding his head up, that conflicted look on his face again, like he was trying to decide something important.

That sigh tore at something deep inside her, prompting her own conflict to make itself known. Of course, hers was far simpler than his, but no less worrying, in its way. "Jon ..." She set her mug down, moving to ease his hands free of their burdens in order to cradle his face in her palms, leaning close enough to kiss him with the tender passion they'd both been trying to keep a lid on for the past month or so. If he was going to leave her hanging for days or even weeks, Vicki was determined to give him a damned good reason to come back.

Victoria Granger

Date: 2011-10-23 23:25 EST
He was surprised by that kiss and by the tender feeling that was behind it, the way she said his name, the way she touched him, the warmth of her lips against his, the promise of a possible future, if he could just get past this one hurdle. He returned her kiss, just as tender, just as passionate, demanding nothing but promising so much. "I wish I could tell you," he whispered finally, breaking the kiss, his lips still close to hers, blue eyes gazing into blue eyes.

"Shh ..." Somehow, Vicki moved to slide herself onto his lap, closing the distance between them as her decision made itself known. Her lips nuzzled to his even as she gazed into his eyes, seeing the longing for truth and more there and understanding a little of that feeling. "Later," she whispered against his lips, closing that miniscule distance with another kiss, no less passionate than the first.

He wrapped his arms around her waist as she settled herself in his lap, muttering an incoherent response against her lips. The first warm golden rays of sunlight finding their way through the windows into the room banished any remains of the terror he'd felt only a little while earlier, until night fell again. He lost himself to that kiss a moment, the rest of the world be damned. Gently breaking the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers, a little out of breath, sorely tempted to carry her to his bed and make love to her, acutely aware that the only thing keeping her from him was that shirt.

She leaned into him, faltering just a moment in her resolution to give him something to come back to. Alright, so convention said it had to be done a certain way ....sod convention. Her fingers slithered down from his shoulders, over his chest, leaving him as her lips peppered his with tiny, soft kisses, distracting them both from the world all over again until a gentle shrug dropped that shirt to her elbows.

A little lost in the feathery soft kisses they were sharing, one brow hitched upwards when he realized she'd shrugged that shirt from her shoulders, and his lips parted from hers to admire the view. They were once again on the cusp of something, the point of no return as it were. Now that it was daylight, his courage had returned, and with it, his resolve. He was going to beat this thing, no matter what it took, and he was going to win her heart, or do his damnedest trying. "I want you ..." he whispered close to her ear as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her cheek, leaving a soft trail of kisses against her neck.

Delightfully breathless, Vicki only too eagerly let instinct tilt her head as she leaned in with him, her eyes flickering closed to better revel in the caress of his lips over her skin. "I'm yours," she felt herself whisper back to him, even startling herself with the truth in those words. It wasn't just a moment of lustful madness; she actually meant it. Right here and now, she was Jon's, and she honestly thought she might implode if he chose to step back from her again.

Not this time. He'd come too far and he wanted her too much. It wasn't just physical desire or lust, but the desire to make her his, completely. He leaned back just a little, tracing her bare shoulder with a fingertip, down against her arm, and then over to loosen the buttons and relieve her completely of that shirt.

Shivering in the wake of the delicate way he touched her, she drew her arms from the shirt that now lay pooled about her hips, tipping her head back to capture his lips once again in a slow, relaxed kiss that promised this was just beginning. Her hands bunched in the hem of his t-shirt, slowly but surely lifting it upward.

He kissed her slowly back, taking his time, lips parting to let his tongue tease her lips and explore her mouth, savoring the sweetness of her kiss. He drew back for a moment, just long enough to pull the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor. He didn't wait for any more cues, moving to his feet and scooping her up in his arms. The hell with decorum.

A connection that was forming between hearts and minds could only be reinforced by the deepest, most basic of primal instincts. Caught together in their first foray into one another's tempestuous desires, passions converged in ancient movement and contemporary technique, their voices could mingle in the midst of those coiling promises soon to be fulfilled. In the long anticipated crash of pleasures, it was Jon's name howled lovingly to the breaking dawn in the shuddering cadence of release.

He collapsed beside her, turning her to face him, not yet ready to untangle himself from her warmth. He touched her face, a tender brush of fingertips against her cheek, something tugging at his heart, something he hadn't felt in a long time. "No regrets?" he asked, brushing some wayward red strand away from her face or just using it as an excuse to touch her.

Nestled between the softness of the sheets and the heat of him, Vicki's smile was bright enough to illuminate a moderately sized lighthouse as she gazed at him, her palm smoothing over his ribs. "Don't even go there," she murmured fondly. "You?"

"Not a one. I've been fantasizing about this for a while." He smiled, that teasing gleam still in his eyes. Whether or not he was teasing or telling the truth was something only he knew. "I didn't disappoint you?" His touch was tender now that their passion had simmered, though it would only take a small effort to reignite it.

She was warm to his touch, unconsciously inching closer to brush a soft kiss or three to his lips. "Even after Aimee's wild stories, I have no disappointments," she promised, her smile still bright as the tip of her nose stroked against his. "You're definitely better than my imagination."

"So are you," he admitted, his hand sliding over her bare shoulder in a lovingly tender caress. He grew quiet as he touched her, wondering where this was all going and hoping he hadn't just made a mistake and put her in danger.

As much as she enjoyed touch, she couldn't help noticing the wheels turning behind his eyes all over again, feeling a wry grin sneak onto her face. "And I've learned something very important as well," she smiled, the twinkle in her eyes trying to tease him out of his plummeting thoughts.

"What's that?" he asked, relaxing completely, eyes growing heavy, feeling warm and content there beside her.

Leaning as close as she could, her voice dropped to a low whisper as she answered. "How to turn off the overthinking." Her grin touched his lips, nipping fondly as her palm stroked against his cheek.

Victoria Granger

Date: 2011-10-23 23:27 EST
That got a grin out of him, blue eyes shining. "Oh, I see ....So, every time you think I'm thinking too much, we're going to have sex. Is that it?"

She appeared to consider this for a moment before nodding, her smile about as innocent as it was ever going to get. "Mhmm, pretty much. Although I may have mercy and just grope you subtly when we're in public."

"There's no way to grope subtly, Vicki. And if you do that, I might yelp and then I'd have to explain why I'm yelping." He sighed and rolled onto his back, shoving a hand through his hair. "You're going to be the death of me."

Chuckling, Vicki took advantage of his new position to stretch close at his side, her chin propped on the fist she held curled on his chest as she looked down at him. "So long as that doesn't happen for at least fifty years, I'm okay with that if you are."

"Fifty' That would make me ..." He did the math quickly in his head. "Seventy-five. Ish." He had a birthday coming up. There was a slight pause before he spoke again. "Vic ..." He turned his head toward her. "If you could be forever young, would you do it?"

Her reaction wasn't immediate, giving him the courtesy of thinking it over before answering. Brushing her hair back out of her face, she shook her head slowly. "No," was her simple reply. "I couldn't imagine outliving everyone who ever meant anything to me. It must be such a lonely way to live."

He slid an arm around her to cradle her against his chest, leaning over to press his lips against her forehead, almost protectively again. "Growing old is part of being human. I'm kind of looking forward to it. Does that sound stupid?"

She smiled, lowering her head to him as her arm loosened, draping over his chest in an easy embrace. "It doesn't sound stupid at all. It's actually rather endearing, in its way. People don't look for someone to be forever young with ....we're all looking for someone to grow old with, aren't we?"

"Ideally, that's how it's supposed to work, but this is Rhy'Din." He titled his head to look at her again. "How long have you been here?" Wondering if she'd been here long enough to know just how weird Rhy'Din could be, especially for people who weren't natives.

"Mmm ....just over a year." It took a moment, but her head tilted back to look up at him through the tangled mess of her hair. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged lightly, with her against his shoulder. "Just curious. Rhy'Din can be pretty hard on newcomers, but I assume Mataya told you what to expect." It never ceased to amaze him how easily Lelah had adjusted, but some people were just like that. Or maybe he gave her too much credit and there were things going on with Lelah he didn't know about.

Vicki chuckled softly, trying to flatten her hair from between them so she could look at him without a copper haze covering her view. "She put together this forty-page teaching guide for everyone who came from Earth," she laughed. "I still have it somewhere."

"No kidding. Really?" He looked a little impressed by that but nothing Mataya did really surprised him anymore. She was amazing. "So, is there a chapter in there on what ....or who ....to avoid?"

"Yeah." Her tone had turned a little confused, in the way many people's did when confronted with Mataya De Luca's strictly no-nonsense attitude to everything. "And she sorted out a crash course for us so we could identify things like werewolves and vampires."

"Someone tries to take a bite out of you, avoid them like the plague?" He just made a wild guess and was being only slightly facetious. "It never ceases to amaze me how people think vampires are sexy. Trust me, there's nothing sexy about them. They're blood suckers, plain and simple. We can all thank Anne Rice for that, I guess."

"They're sexy if they're being played by actors who happen to be very human," Vicki smiled faintly, though she couldn't help wondering where this had come from. "But isn't a vampire just an ambulatory corpse" There's a word for people who find that arousing."

"Please don't tell me you are one of those people who thinks having a vampire bite your neck would be better than this ..." He gestured between them. "Because it's not."

Her brow rose as she eyed him in amusement. "The only man I want biting me is you, Jonathan Granger, and even then only when I can bite back."

Without naming names, he knew people who thought it was sexy and he couldn't understand it, though he understood what it was to be seduced by one. "Nibble. You can nibble." He teased back, and just to make his point, he leaned over and took a gentle nip at her neck.

"Mmm, not bad," she teased, drawing herself up to lean over him. Copper hair fell around their faces as she nipped at the end of his nose, using it purely as an excuse to steal another of those lazy, languid kisses she seemed to excel at.

He could have nipped elsewhere, but that would have started something again and he was considering a shower and breakfast, not necessarily in that order. And who knew what might transpire if he asked her to join him in the shower" He murmured his appreciation and approval of her kiss, returning it just as lazily.

And so what if it did start something all over again? Sunday mornings were made for lazy lie-ins of this kind.

((Many thanks again to Jonathan Granger, and the next part of Jon's story starts that Sunday afternoon in Hide and Seek.))