Archive of Our Own ^beta

If there was one thing that Vicki was surprised to learn it's that being bitten by a vampire isn't always the horror fest that she expected.

In fact, Henry informs her one night early on in their friendship over new case files and a good bottle of wine, it's often quite the opposite. He describes it as an encounter filled with adrenaline, passion, and lust. One where it was easy to charm his victims with his powers of persuasion and his dark good looks, and more times than not the men and women that he fed off of never even realize that they've been bitten.

Her inner cop, the small part of her that still clung helplessly to the law and longed to be out there walking the beat with her partner, was relieved to hear that it had been centuries since he'd drained his food sources. However, there was an even larger part of herself that was curious. She'd already been bitten by him once, saved his life less than a day after meeting him, and none of the movies had prepared her for how much it was going to hurt. And it did. A lot. So the idea that his teeth piercing her skin could be anything other than excruciatingly painful? Well, she would be lying if she said that the curious notion didn't wiggle its way into her brain.

She tries not to think about it at first. Her life is already complicated enough, she doesn't need to add a vampire biting fetish to the list. But the more she tries to actively avoid thinking about it, the more times she wakes gasping from her dreams, her body wrought with tension, slick between her legs with a phantom ache in the crook of her neck. So, eventually, she gives in. Instead of rolling out of bed and shivering her way through yet another cold shower, she guiltily fumbles beneath her pajama bottoms and tries not to picture the Henry from her dreams- the one who likes pinning her against a brick wall in a random alley somewhere in the city, or down against the desk in her office, while he took what he wanted, both carnal and otherwise.

It's a vicious, never ending, cycle of sexual frustration and guilt that spins out of control for almost a year and a half before finally breaking.

Vicki has just relived the same day nearly a dozen times like a bad made-for-TV movie and, despite the fact that she knows Henry still hasn't eaten, she's caught off guard when their conversation takes a sudden turn and his gaze falls down to her throat longingly.

“Do you mind?”

Vicki's breath catches in the back of her throat, her heart thumping just a tiny bit faster as she realizes that this is it. This is the moment that she's been waiting for. She shakes her head and tilts it in invitation. He doesn't hesitate.

Henry's lips briefly caress her skin, his tongue fluttering teasingly over her pulse, and just after her eyes slip shut it happens. His teeth sink gently into her neck, and while it hurts, it's merely a pinch compared to last time. Hell, it actually feels kind of good.

Arching into him, she just barely manages to stifle a soft moan. Henry's palm slides from her forearm to the flare of her waist and his fingertips dance underneath the hem of her shirt. She's not even sure that he realizes he's doing it, but she sure as hell has does. His touch feels even more amazing than she thought it would. Vaguely, she realizes that he's shuffling her backwards, but gasps in surprise the moment that she feels the wall snugly against her back. Like quicksilver, every part of her flushes. Her fingers involuntarily grip the collar of his jacket and her stomach clenches in pleasure. She melts into him, willing the moment to go on forever, but only a few seconds later she feels him stop feeding. Vicki's disappointed, she won't lie. He doesn't move or pull away though, no, his muscles harden and flex as he nuzzles into her like a kitten. Then, and only then, does her brow furrow in confusion when he takes a deep breath. Like he's savoring her. She's confused for a moment, but then he moans and suddenly it hits her.

He can smell her.

She should be absolutely mortified, yet embarrassment doesn't come. The fact that he knows exactly how turned on she is only seems to spur her on. All she can hear and feel is the oddly possessive growl that rumbles through him and in the blink of an eye his mouth is back on her neck. As his jaw tightens around her and Vicki whimpers in surprise. Before she even has a chance to remember how dangerous he is, he's sliding one of his strong thighs between her legs and tugs her down against him.

Gasping at the new sensation, Vicki's hips stutter to life. There's still a little part of her that doesn't want to seem desperate, but the invisible trail of heat that's linked between the wound that he's gently suckling and the throbbing between her legs flares to life like a taut harp string being plucked and that's all that she can focus on. Every breath, each tiny swallow. All of the sensations that he's coaxing out of her are too hard to ignore. Henry doesn't seem to protest her enthusiasm though, in fact, he does nothing but encourage her. Mirroring the shameless grinding rhythm that she's started, he rubs against her until she feels every glorious inch of him hard against her hip.

Somewhere, through her haze of arousal, she feels the car slow to a stop and hears the elevator doors open with a ding. She ignores it, too swept up in him to care. Henry, however, startles at the invading sound and the forgotten briefcase in his other hand bumps into the wall with a loud thump.

Vicki's eyes pop open, hissing in surprise when his teeth suddenly retract from her skin. She twines her fingers through his curly hair, holding him close and, only when they both realize that the awaiting hallway is empty, does he sag back into her embrace and lap away the remaining blood. It soothes the mild ache now radiating from her throat and begins the process of closing her wounds.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks once the elevator doors slide shut again.

“No,” she laughs shakily, “hurt is not the word that I'd use.”

Henry chuckles and licks lazily across her skin one last time before leaning back. For a brief moment Vicki thinks that's the end of it, but it's not. He lingers. Stubble scrapes deliciously against her cheek and a strong arm slips around her waist her a little too tightly, just enough for her to realize that it isn't a mistake. He probably thinks that he's taken more from her than he should have. Which, in all reality, his worries probably aren't exactly unfounded. Her world tilts the tiniest bit when she finally focuses on something other than him and her field of vision is slightly darker than usual despite the unnatural glare of florescent lighting overhead. With her condition none of that is exactly new to her, but the fact that her eyesight is still good enough to spot a tiny hint of crimson staining the corner of his mouth tells her that she's going to be fine.

Vicki's gaze automatically flits upward to his unnaturally dark eyes and her heart stutters at the open look of longing that practically radiates off of him. Like the point of a compass, she sways toward him, uncertain, but that's the only invitation that he needs.

She whimpers and clings to him when their lips connect. It's tentative at first, but quickly transitions to needy and passionate once they both stop pretending that either of them actually wants to stop. Henry practically vibrates against her, the overwhelming coppery tang of her own blood still lingering in his mouth invading her senses. She should be unnerved by it, she knows that logically, but it really wasn't. A little shared blood between friends was the least weird thing that she'd encountered since meeting him.

Henry threads his fingers through her hair and tugs just hard enough to make her tremble. Vicki's knees go weak, her grip tightening on his shoulders, and in the blink of an eye he has her completely pinned against the elevator wall for the second time that night. Sure, the whole vampire super speed thing has turned her on in the past, on more than one occasion if she was honest, but her fantasies were nothing compared to actually living it. The feeling of his muscular body pressing tightly against her own, moving quicker than her human brain could even process it happening, left her practically breathless and he knew it. The cocky bastard chuckles and rolls his hips lazily against her, just hard enough to make every nerve in her entire body sing.

Vicki tries not to lose herself in him, she really does, but she knows that it's a losing battle. As it is, she just barely manages to stop herself from swooning as his hands ghost up her sides and over her breasts. Letting out a breathy moan, she hastily pushes her fingertips underneath the collar of his shirt and drags her nails over his skin, digging in much harder than she would normally dare with any other man. But, then of course, Henry wasn't other men. He growls in response, a deep, visceral noise that ruminates somewhere deep in the back of his throat. It's intense and possessive. She does it again.

Something snaps inside of him.

In a flash, Henry wraps one of her thighs around his waist and grinds into her like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Breaking their kiss with a groan, she's not even sure that she's breathing as her head falls back against the wall with a dull thunk. The sensations are so good that she doesn't notice his sneaky fingers undoing the button and zipper on her jeans, nor does she realize that his hand is already making its way down the front of her pants until his lower body pulls away from the delicious friction that they'd been making and he slides two fingers inside of her.

Vicki clenches around him. The groan that escapes her is so lascivious that if he wasn't already grinding his palm against her clit she might have actually blushed. Instead, she rolls her hips down against him in a haze of lust and claws at any part of him that she can reach, desperate to feel skin against her own. She doesn't get very far. Henry nips at the wound on her neck, curls his fingers once, twice, and then she's gone. Her body seizes and her mind goes pleasantly fuzzy. Everything is lost to her but the pounding of her own heart and the feel of his fingers gently coaxing her through her release.

She's not sure how long she's out of it, but as she comes down Vicki somehow realizes that he's still hard. She can feel the length of him pressed against her inner thigh, tension tearing its way through his body like a summer storm, and even though he's trying to mask it with that damn laid back smirk of his she can tell just how badly he wants her.

The corners of her mouth flick upward in a lazy smirk as she reaches down and cups his erection through his trousers. He lets out a shaky breath and twitches beneath her touch. She grows bold. Tracing the shape of him through the thin, black material, she gets a feel for him before finally giving him a few firm strokes. Henry gasps in response and thrusts toward her, rolling with her through every move. Only when Vicki swipes her thumb over the tip in tight, slow circles does that change. Henry's reaction is so violent that his fingers twitch inside of her, causing both of them to jerk forward and almost immediately something clatters to the floor.

The noise echoes through the tiny space and jars them apart. He yanks his hand out of her pants, fingers sliding too quickly through over-sensitive flesh, and looks down at the box on the floor. Guilt wraps its way around Vicki's heart like an invisible vice. The box, thankfully, hadn't opened, but her carelessness could have quite literally destroyed the world. Again.

Sighing to herself, she reaches down and refastens her jeans. There's nothing quite like the threat of apocalypse to put a damper on things. Vicki sighs and smooths her clothes back into place, not surprised in the least when she sees him doing the same and is eventually greeted by Henry's smoldering stare. With the box back safely in one of his hands, he waits until he's sure that she's paying attention before smiling, flashing her his fangs. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, a warm, languid feeling in the pit of her stomach throbs as she watches him lick each one of them clean. Judging by the secret smile that they share as his finger slip out from between his lips with an audible pop, he feels exactly the same way.

Vicki longed to push herself away from the wall, to close the distance between them on her shaky legs and capture his mouth with her own. The desire to plunder her way past his lips, to kiss him quickly and just as possessively as he had only moments ago, surprises her, but she knows that they're running out of time. Even she can sense the oncoming sunrise.

“I should go,” he tells her.

“I know.”

He still has to hide the box before he can rest. She understands.

With a steadying breath, she crowds into his space and kisses him one last time. It's tender, so sweet that it makes her chest tighten with emotion, and pulling away takes more willpower than she realized she had. He's still caressing the side of her face when she blindly pushes the button for the lobby and the shroud is broken once again as they began gliding steadily downward and back toward the real world.

She tries not to feel proud of herself as they put a respectable distance between them and he tugs his jacket discretely over the crotch of his pants. She fails. Her grin is smug as the elevator slows to a stop and, as soon as the doors to slide open, they're in motion. They make their way past the night manager, whom she wants to strangle because he's still whistling that damn song, and before she knows it they're lingering on the sidewalk just as early morning traffic begins to fill the streets.

“Better hurry,” she frowns, looking off toward the brightening horizon.

He follows her gaze and nods, “I'll call you when I wake, let you know that the job is done.”

There's a moment between them, not quite an awkward silence but pretty close to it, where neither of them are really sure how to say goodbye. So they don't.

“Right. I'm gonna-” she gestures down the street.

Henry follows her lead and flashes her a reassuring smile, “Go get some rest, Victoria. You deserve it.”

Vicki chuckles. Hell yes, she does. She can't even remember how many days she relived, how many consecutive hours that she spent trying to stop Pandora's Box from destroying the world. She was exhausted.

With one last glance, each of them takes their leave, walking in separate directions. A few seconds pass, and just as he's almost out of earshot she stops and turns back.

“Hey Henry!” she yells, waiting until he turns in question, confusion marring his brow, “Don't forget, I owe you one!”

Even from thirty yards away she can still see the brightness in his smile and the predatory gleam in his eyes. For a moment, just long enough to envision herself running happily toward him, she's tempted to follow him home but knows that there will always be time for that later.

“I look forward to it!” he shouts back.

She waves halfheartedly toward him and watches as he breaks into a light jog and disappears around the corner. She hates to see him go, but as she continues down the road toward a line of awaiting cabs, she yawns and realizes just how drained she really is. She's insanely glad that there are street lights overhead and freaking ecstatic that sidewalk is actually clear. If anything had been in her way she probably would have given up and collapsed against a building in exhaustion. That's the last thing she needed.

Finally, Vicki reaches a taxi and crawls into the back seat. The driver sets off toward her office and, even though she's about ninety nine percent certain that her time loop has been broken, she's more than a little reluctant to actually fall asleep. She struggles to keep her eyes open, managing just long enough to pay the man once they arrive, slip inside her building, and crash onto the couch almost as soon as it came into view.

Vicki rolls onto her side and lays stiffly on her lumpy sofa, gently ghosting her fingertips across her neck. The wounds are healing quickly, almost too quickly, and she lays her hand protectively over them as her eyes begin to droop.

She did it. She saved Mike, kept the Knights of Babylon from screwing everyone over, and even though she's still slightly confused about what went down with Henry and how it will affect them in the future, she has to admit that they'd made a step in the right direction. She really doesn't want that part to be erased.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Vicki finally lets her eyes slide shut.

She can only hope that a brand new day greets her when she wakes.

End.