Emancipated and Quite Capable

"Look, I don't see why you can't just tell me now," George complained.

Mitchell shot him a brief glance from near the window. "Because we all need to process," he said, and glanced back out into the night.

The one problem about calling in this particular acquaintance was that he'd had to wait until nightfall. Waiting made Mitchell antsy, which made George antsier, which meant the chances of someone being neurotic and flaily and generally annoying went up higher and higher and higher.

Mitchell checked his watch. "Their portal should've gotten here half an hour ago," he muttered. Even if he knew how unreliable Portalocity was, especially when it was least convenient.

( Arriving: One portal. One vampire. Two detectives. )

[OOC: Preplayed with the wonderful chose_humanity. Follows this. More to come!]

Feeling a certain twitch just under his skin that his usual methods hadn't done much for, Jack had taken himself on a long walk through the city. He was surprised when he got home to see Sebastien waiting on the stoop in the shade of a spreading tree; usually he didn't chance even this much daylight.

He was more surprised when he noticed how pale his guardian was. Since Jack's return from Kaeleer, he had been bound up in his own thoughts and his own stresses. Sebastien had stepped back when his questions received only monosyllabic answers. Jack, he knew, would tell him when he was ready, if ever.

Though that had made it easier for Sebastien to neglect his own needs -- he feared both Jack's reaction if he took care of himself elsewhere, and rejection (or, worse, a grudging offer) if he asked Jack. He could wait.

"I've been neglecting you horribly," Jack clucked as he bounded up the stairs. "Let's get you inside, and -- forgive me."

( Sex pollen + honestly + the vampire/courtier relationship = possibly not a good match. )

A few minutes later, Sebastien refreshed and off for the evening and Jack's arm neatly bandaged, Jack leaned back against his pillows and pulled out his phone to make a few calls. Surely he wasn't the only one in Fandom to be behaving so oddly...

At the least, he hoped not.

[OOC: NFB. If you think he called you, he did. Warning for reference to sexual situations.]

Jack gave Sebastien one last critical look as he slid into a booth in the bar corner, placing himself between the vampire and the rest of the room. It was exasperating in such a familiar way that Sebastien twitched, not without affection.

"Am I suitable?" he inquired archly. It was their first outing in 2010, and Jack had checked his clothing and hair over for anything that reeked of the archaic at least a dozen times. It took much of Sebastien's good humor -- which was already fraying a bit, as it always did at meeting another of his kind -- not to point out he'd been blending in considerably longer than Jack had.

"You'll do," Jack nodded blandly, pretending to miss the sarcasm. "Don't worry so much."

"I wouldn't have said I was the one who was worrying," Sebastien said, but weakly. Neither of them held the patent on it at that moment -- but it was a mild kind of worry, more a slightly tense curiosity than anything that held any real fear.

They settled into this comfortable banter while they waited for Mitchell.

[OOC: For one, please. NFB due to distance.]

Jack had every reason to be happy as he made it back to his room after a quick trip into town to buy coffee and pick up his mail. It was a lovely spring day, and there were no children -- his own, or shrunken versions of his classmates and teachers -- about. He was profoundly grateful for this; children were fine, but he'd gotten his fill of babysitting.

He was mildly curious as to why the change had passed him by, but mostly he was simply thankful for that. No one needed to see the silent, wounded boy he had been. Besides, he hadn't spoken English as a small child, and he doubted he would have been able to find anyone to explain things to him in Czech or Yiddish.

But that was not at the top of his head as he returned to his room, not when the mail had brought good news for him. Sebastien had already telegraphed that he'd be at graduation on Saturday; now he had a letter from Rivka as well, confirming she'd asked for and received the time off to visit him. (And, she wrote, no, Jan, don't send money for a coach.) He'd have to talk to both of them about his final plans to stay in this time -- he'd been dancing around the subject -- but he was optimistic enough to believe that wouldn't go too badly. (He'd badger Sebastien into coming with him. He had to.)

He was grinning as he flopped onto his bed with a novel, door open so he could watch the traffic in the hall.

[OOC: Open room post!]

When he got home from school this weekend, Jack hung his coat neatly, gave the maid three days off, and took Sebastien to bed before he could say much of anything.

Well, the wampyr did look pale. That was justification for ... about half of it. Though, in truth, Jack might have done much the same even if Sebastien were the picture of undead health.

( Eventually they had to talk. )

[OOC: NFB, NFI, OOC-OK]

Jack wasn't surprised when Sebastien took his leave of the ball they'd been invited to early so the two of them could ring in 1900 alone at home. His guardian had been in a quiet mood all week, thoughtful in a way that couldn't be entirely attributed to work. Jack suspected he'd been worrying about Jack's other friends. Which was simply stupid.

"Alone at last," he said when they stood in their front room, resting his head against the wampyr's silent chest. "Thank you."

Sebastien's smile didn't reach his eyes, and Jack wondered why he bothered. "I couldn't ring in the new year with strangers."

"That would be" -- and now Jack stepped back to help Sebastien out of his coat -- "why I'm here, darling. So neither of us is with strangers."

"I thought you wanted to see the new century," Sebastien remarked.

"It's true," Jack conceded. "I am rather curious. The turn's not likely to come again while I'm alive, is it? Even you've only seen it, what ... twelve or thirteen times?"

"You don't miss your school friends?" Sebastien asked, waving off the indirect question about his age, as was his habit.

Jack shook his head. "They're just in New Amsterdam. I've seen it, and I've seen them. I don't see you nearly often enough. You're apt to get too thin without me to look out for you."

That drew a genuine smile, and they sank into a companionable silence until the church bells rang midnight. And then, of course, there was a kiss.

Jack did not dare to hope for more.

[OOC: NFI, NFB, etc.]

It was a rather dreadful day. A gray mist fell from the sky as the last remnants of overnight rain, and a chill wind whipped through the air.

As these were the only circumstances under which Sebastien de Ulloa saw daylight, he was determined to be grateful for it. The unhappy work that brought him and his temporary companion out would not wait for the sun to set.

He stood back for a moment, assessing the scene. The badly abused corpse of a young man laid just outside the door, and blood and a thick white substance both spattered the marble stairs. A city patrolman still paced about self-importantly. If Sebastien's sense of the case was correct, he was waiting for some superior.

( Tony spotted the body and instinctively averted his eyes. 'It's not a real vacation if you don't see the local corpses,' he muttered. )


[OOC: Continues from here. Threeway-preplay tango directed by bitten_notshy, brandyforapples, and wantstodirect. Basic situation and some dialogue stolen from "Wax" by Elizabeth Bear. Sixth verse, same as the first, but a whole lot louder and a whole lot worse. NFI, NFB. OOC = AOK. And you people should not let Ahdari code unsupervised.]