[Fic] Snow Melts (1/2)
May. 5th, 2007 06:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Snow Melts (1/2)
Fandom: Blood Ties (tv)
Characters: Henry/Mike, Vicki
Word Count: 1,270 in this part
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Mike and Henry have a talk about Henry's drinking problem.
Author's Note: Posting this part because after that things got long, and I've been putting this off for a bit. Not my characters. DEFINITELY not my characters. I'm just borrowing them for some little fun at the request of a friend. Please don't smite me.
"Henry, why?"
She wasn't exasperated -- okay, she was a little exasperated, but mostly she was just tired. Mike wasn't talking to her anymore, had taken a leave of absence from work, and she would have been more worried if she didn't know he was holed up in his house at the moment. Without his gun. She'd made him give her his gun and every bottle of pills he could have used, along with most of the sharp knives.
Okay, it wasn't everything she could have done. But the alternative was to lock him up in a hospital, and she wasn't willing to do that yet. He was still talking to her. Hell, he was still snapping at her and being sarcastic about it, even if he couldn't talk about what happened yet. So at least a part of the old Mike Cellucci was still there.
But she still wanted to know why. What on earth had possessed Henry -- please, God, not literally -- to do such a thing.
"Are you asking me why Mike in specific? Because, Vicki, after four hundred and fifty years you start to lose some of your hang-ups about little things like gender…"
"Yes, I'm asking you why Mike in specific, no, I'm not asking you…" One hand flailed a little. "Why men, just. Why Mike? Why did you have to do that to him?"
Henry gave her that look he got when he was dropping the teasing and starting to take her seriously, which was progress, at least. He didn't look guilty though, and she wanted him to look guilty. Wanted him to at least acknowledge what he'd done to the other man.
"He was drunk." Henry looked away. "But he didn't say no. I gave him every chance, Vicki, please believe me…"
She didn't know whether or not to believe him, and even if she did, she didn't know if Henry's idea of giving Mike every chance to back down was hers. And even then, Mike wasn't the backing down type. He was even worse when he was drunk.
"God knows how you even got him drunk in the first place."
Henry laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh, but it wasn't as nasty as she'd heard him get either, and that was something. "Vicki, there are a few things men having in common, and being frustrated by women is one of them. No, we didn't suddenly become best friends, and yes, he felt comfortable enough around me to get drunk."
With a little bit of goading. Henry wasn't above some strategic non-vampire manipulation, he had been raised at court, after all. And he knew how to read people, especially someone who was so obvious with his feelings and his reactions as Mike Cellucci. Maybe he was aces in the interrogation room, but Henry doubted it was because of any kind of deception. The other man was suspicious of Henry, disliked him immensely, not the least of which because Henry was the first threat he had ever encountered for Vicki's affections, whatever other incidents before him aside.
It was one thing that kept him from giving up altogether. Vicki's responses were disheartening, her resolve to resist him impressive. But if Mike thought he was a threat, and Henry did have to admit that Mike knew her better than anyone else Henry was likely to talk to, then perhaps there was something there. And as long as he had the ghost of a chance, he wasn't going to give up.
Neutral territory would be more likely to make him cough up his secrets. But Vicki wasn't a conversation for a bar or tavern, so they were meeting in the café section of the bookstore and then, who knew.
"I can't believe you drink that stuff." Mike's face had already been set into something between a sneer and a scowl. This was going to go well.
"You can't believe I drink coffee, or you don't believe I drink this kind of coffee?" He made himself not smile when he said it. "There are a lot of things you don't believe about me."
"Your good intentions, for one," Mike agreed.
"Let's start there." They sat down. If he was going to be serious about this, he might as well be serious. "When have I ever given you cause to believe I would do anything to hurt Vicki?"
"How about the part where you drink blood?"
Henry's glare went from non-existent to flat, ugly, and dangerous. Coffee shop may not have been the best idea, but he had preferred a public place to keep them both on their best behavior. But if Cellucci was going to start in on his less than human habits immediately, they were moving to a less public location right the hell now.
"Yeah, that." Cellucci pointed a finger at him around his coffee cup. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."
"Perhaps I should talk to Vicki about your talent for discretion." Henry smiled. It almost had teeth in it. "I'm sure she'd love to hear about how well you keep your mouth shut."
"Maybe we should take this elsewhere."
"Maybe we should."
"Henry…" She sighed. Her hands pushed through her hair again and then settled on her forehead, trying to hold her head together. He could be such a headache sometimes. "Just tell me you didn't start off trying to…" She didn't know what to call it. The idea of it still boggled her mind more than a little.
"Vicki, I swear to you, I did not set out to seduce Mike Cellucci."
He sounded so earnest. And she still didn't want him to say it like that, because when he said it like that it made it real, made it something that happened. It was hard enough to deal with Mike, knowing what they'd done and making the fact that he was upset about it the bigger deal. She didn't want to deal with Henry talking about it so blatantly. Not when Henry barely seemed concerned.
"Fine." She made an explosive sighing noise. "Fine, I believe you."
"You don't sound like you do." His head tilted to one side.
"I believe you, Henry. I'm just pissed off at you."
"Because I seduced Mike Cellucci." Pause. "Are you jealous?"
"What?'
"Are you jealous because I got to sleep with…"
"Henry…" She held up a hand, either to smack him or clap it over his mouth, she wasn't sure yet. "Just… stop. Don't say it again, and please don't suggest I'm jealous. I'm not jealous. I'm pissed because you screwed …" She winced. Bad choice of words. Henry was leering.
"Yeah?"
"I'm pissed because you went to a friend of mine, a really good friend of mine, and I don't know what you did or how you got him in bed but you did, and now he is tearing himself apart because of it. He has locked himself in his house and I'm just glad he's actually talking to me because if he wasn't, God help me, I'd stake you out for the sun to deal with you." She was shouting and pointing a finger at him by the time she was done.
Henry's eyes widened, the first traces of hurt showing on his face. Hurt and something startled and she wasn't sure what it was. In the next moment she wasn't even sure it had been there, he was pulling back into the mask of Henry Fitzroy, son of the king, five hundred year old vampire. She wasn't sure where that left them. She was more worried about where that left Mike.
Fandom: Blood Ties (tv)
Characters: Henry/Mike, Vicki
Word Count: 1,270 in this part
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Mike and Henry have a talk about Henry's drinking problem.
Author's Note: Posting this part because after that things got long, and I've been putting this off for a bit. Not my characters. DEFINITELY not my characters. I'm just borrowing them for some little fun at the request of a friend. Please don't smite me.
"Henry, why?"
She wasn't exasperated -- okay, she was a little exasperated, but mostly she was just tired. Mike wasn't talking to her anymore, had taken a leave of absence from work, and she would have been more worried if she didn't know he was holed up in his house at the moment. Without his gun. She'd made him give her his gun and every bottle of pills he could have used, along with most of the sharp knives.
Okay, it wasn't everything she could have done. But the alternative was to lock him up in a hospital, and she wasn't willing to do that yet. He was still talking to her. Hell, he was still snapping at her and being sarcastic about it, even if he couldn't talk about what happened yet. So at least a part of the old Mike Cellucci was still there.
But she still wanted to know why. What on earth had possessed Henry -- please, God, not literally -- to do such a thing.
"Are you asking me why Mike in specific? Because, Vicki, after four hundred and fifty years you start to lose some of your hang-ups about little things like gender…"
"Yes, I'm asking you why Mike in specific, no, I'm not asking you…" One hand flailed a little. "Why men, just. Why Mike? Why did you have to do that to him?"
Henry gave her that look he got when he was dropping the teasing and starting to take her seriously, which was progress, at least. He didn't look guilty though, and she wanted him to look guilty. Wanted him to at least acknowledge what he'd done to the other man.
"He was drunk." Henry looked away. "But he didn't say no. I gave him every chance, Vicki, please believe me…"
She didn't know whether or not to believe him, and even if she did, she didn't know if Henry's idea of giving Mike every chance to back down was hers. And even then, Mike wasn't the backing down type. He was even worse when he was drunk.
"God knows how you even got him drunk in the first place."
Henry laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh, but it wasn't as nasty as she'd heard him get either, and that was something. "Vicki, there are a few things men having in common, and being frustrated by women is one of them. No, we didn't suddenly become best friends, and yes, he felt comfortable enough around me to get drunk."
With a little bit of goading. Henry wasn't above some strategic non-vampire manipulation, he had been raised at court, after all. And he knew how to read people, especially someone who was so obvious with his feelings and his reactions as Mike Cellucci. Maybe he was aces in the interrogation room, but Henry doubted it was because of any kind of deception. The other man was suspicious of Henry, disliked him immensely, not the least of which because Henry was the first threat he had ever encountered for Vicki's affections, whatever other incidents before him aside.
It was one thing that kept him from giving up altogether. Vicki's responses were disheartening, her resolve to resist him impressive. But if Mike thought he was a threat, and Henry did have to admit that Mike knew her better than anyone else Henry was likely to talk to, then perhaps there was something there. And as long as he had the ghost of a chance, he wasn't going to give up.
Neutral territory would be more likely to make him cough up his secrets. But Vicki wasn't a conversation for a bar or tavern, so they were meeting in the café section of the bookstore and then, who knew.
"I can't believe you drink that stuff." Mike's face had already been set into something between a sneer and a scowl. This was going to go well.
"You can't believe I drink coffee, or you don't believe I drink this kind of coffee?" He made himself not smile when he said it. "There are a lot of things you don't believe about me."
"Your good intentions, for one," Mike agreed.
"Let's start there." They sat down. If he was going to be serious about this, he might as well be serious. "When have I ever given you cause to believe I would do anything to hurt Vicki?"
"How about the part where you drink blood?"
Henry's glare went from non-existent to flat, ugly, and dangerous. Coffee shop may not have been the best idea, but he had preferred a public place to keep them both on their best behavior. But if Cellucci was going to start in on his less than human habits immediately, they were moving to a less public location right the hell now.
"Yeah, that." Cellucci pointed a finger at him around his coffee cup. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."
"Perhaps I should talk to Vicki about your talent for discretion." Henry smiled. It almost had teeth in it. "I'm sure she'd love to hear about how well you keep your mouth shut."
"Maybe we should take this elsewhere."
"Maybe we should."
"Henry…" She sighed. Her hands pushed through her hair again and then settled on her forehead, trying to hold her head together. He could be such a headache sometimes. "Just tell me you didn't start off trying to…" She didn't know what to call it. The idea of it still boggled her mind more than a little.
"Vicki, I swear to you, I did not set out to seduce Mike Cellucci."
He sounded so earnest. And she still didn't want him to say it like that, because when he said it like that it made it real, made it something that happened. It was hard enough to deal with Mike, knowing what they'd done and making the fact that he was upset about it the bigger deal. She didn't want to deal with Henry talking about it so blatantly. Not when Henry barely seemed concerned.
"Fine." She made an explosive sighing noise. "Fine, I believe you."
"You don't sound like you do." His head tilted to one side.
"I believe you, Henry. I'm just pissed off at you."
"Because I seduced Mike Cellucci." Pause. "Are you jealous?"
"What?'
"Are you jealous because I got to sleep with…"
"Henry…" She held up a hand, either to smack him or clap it over his mouth, she wasn't sure yet. "Just… stop. Don't say it again, and please don't suggest I'm jealous. I'm not jealous. I'm pissed because you screwed …" She winced. Bad choice of words. Henry was leering.
"Yeah?"
"I'm pissed because you went to a friend of mine, a really good friend of mine, and I don't know what you did or how you got him in bed but you did, and now he is tearing himself apart because of it. He has locked himself in his house and I'm just glad he's actually talking to me because if he wasn't, God help me, I'd stake you out for the sun to deal with you." She was shouting and pointing a finger at him by the time she was done.
Henry's eyes widened, the first traces of hurt showing on his face. Hurt and something startled and she wasn't sure what it was. In the next moment she wasn't even sure it had been there, he was pulling back into the mask of Henry Fitzroy, son of the king, five hundred year old vampire. She wasn't sure where that left them. She was more worried about where that left Mike.