It's been a long day and I'm ready for dinner and an ale. In the grand scheme of things, this means that I'm heading off to Mac's. I have a couple dollars and a new job on the books. I'd say things are looking up, but that usually gets me in more trouble. So, I'll just say that today looks okay.
So - down the stairs, avoiding the ceiling fans and I take a seat at the bar and order my dinner. Mac's got the ale on the counter almost before I ask for it. Go Mac.
"Who's after me this time?" I ask the leggy babe behind me. Hey - last time she was in town someone tried to kill me, why should this time be any different?
"Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny; they say you owe them big time," she replies, eyebrow still up there as she takes a seat on the stool next to him. "What, I can't just say 'hey,' anymore, there's gotta be a reason?"
She doesn't even sound pissed at him. Mostly because she's not.
I give her a look. "First, don't even TALK about Santa that way. Faerie that powerful could ruin Christmas for a lot more people than me."
You think I'm kidding? Heh. You can piss off Santa all you like; I'm not doing it.
Easter Bunny's a whole other gig.
"Hey, when my ex- shows up right about the time someone's planning the supernatural smackdown the first time, the second time she comes 'round, I'm gonna err on the side of caution."
"Hi, Harry," half sarcastically. "Have we had the talk about Santa and the Easter Bunny yet?"
She gives him a small smile.
"I was in the neighbourhood, you know? Decided to come down, see if you were here. And let's face it, it's not like you ever go anywhere else when you need a drink. And hey, guess what? I needed a drink, too."
"Uh, I think we need to have the Santa talk. For all the digging you did with the Arcane you never figured out who Santa was?"
She's a smart woman - quick too - she picks up on these things.
I still don't want to talk about the Easter Bunny.
"Hey, best Ale in the city." I hold up my bottle and finish it off. Mac's got another there for me and one for Susan before my bottle even hits the bar again.
She picks the bottle up, spins it in her fingers a few times, setting it back down.
"Guy in red who comes down your chimney Christmas night. Hey, I was told when I was twelve years old that he wasn't real. So, what's the deal with that, then? 'Cause I still got presents afterwards."
"Sure. What would you like to talk about?" she asks, finally taking a sip from the bottle. "Doom? Bugs? The fact that it looks like nobody would key your car because it's never looked worse? Harry, when was the last time you got a paint job on that thing?"
She eats her sandwich in silence, for the most part, not really tasting it (but we're sure it's lovely) as she just kind of watches Harry. She knows what he's thinking. She is, too.
"And it's nearly abandoned? Sounds... fun. Just tell me you won't be my landlord," she says, smiling. "I'd ask to just bunk down on your sofa, but... we both know that wouldn't be good."
"Oh. Well, at least it's not another ex-girlfriend, right?" she says, offering him a smile. "Who do I talk to about the maybe-haunted mostly-abandoned hotel, then?"
I open the door and mutter a phrase to drop the wards, but, again, I don't invite her in. Hey - she is still half-vampire. No invite from the guy who lives here. She can come in, it just means that her power is weakened a little. Not that that would help me much if she decided to try to eat me. Okay - off that train of thought before I change my mind and make her sleep in the Beetle.
She waits until he's inside - obviously - and just takes a second to compose herself before she steps inside. Just as weird as it was last time. How 'bout that.
I'd wonder why I come in and sit in one of the back pews so often, but I know the answer. It isn't just a matter of knowing I'm on Holy Ground. It's good to rest once in while, but "living" on Holy Ground isn't much of a life. There's the peace of being on Holy Ground, and there's getting to watch the people that come and go. Saint Mary's is a new world church. It may be gothic, but it doesn't have quite the right feel. That doesn't keep the tourists away. What do they know about gothic churches anyway? I think about stretching out some on the pew, but I'd rather not take the lecture I could get if I got caught. So I sit quietly on the pew watching, and listening. I'm not the only Immortal to find their way into Saint Mary's.
Current Mood:
peaceful Tags:
methos, karrin murphy
I don't precisely know why I'm here, but it's quiet and gives me time to think. So many things have happened in the last few years, more and more weird stuff, more and more life-threatening situations.
I was raised Catholic, and even though I'm what some might call 'lapsed', a quiet church is sometimes the best place to think.
I smile at the sound of her voice. I wonder if I should ask her, "Come here often?" As I turn towards her I remember not to give her an order, even if it is as simple as, "Have a seat." What I say when I open my mouth is, "Hey, Karrin. Or is it Murphy, or Lieutenant Murphy today?"
I nod when Karrin tells me her first name is fine. As she sits in the pew in front of me I wonder if she knows how attractive she is, and if Father Forthill would make me say a Hail Mary or two for thinking she's beautiful.
"Peace. I spent most of the morning arguing over the translation of some hieroglyphs with another researcher at the museum," I answer her question with the truth. If it was someone else I might joke or evade, but Karrin has my trust.
"That's about the right level of fun. You even have a similar fun factor. I know I'm right, but I can't prove it because I don't have the scientific facts to back it up. You know SI does important work, but the work is with stuff people don't believe in anymore."
Talking about it is helping my mood some, but I could use a beer. I consider offering to buy her one, wondering if she'd insist on paying for her own.
I shiver a little as Karrin talks about how she's nearly been killed by some things. It isn't much of a shiver, she might not notice it, but she's a good cop. I wonder what she'll think if she notices it; whether she'll say anything.
"Sometimes ignorance is bliss. Sometimes it just gets you dead," I decide to tell her. The thought of a beer gets better the more I think about it.
I can't help but notice the tremor that goes through him, but I don't say anything. It's not like I don't get the shakes after a while, after all.
"Yeah. That's why I try not to stay ignorant. I don't have a lot of bliss, either." I fold my arms across my chest and breathe in the peace of this place.
It's another late night for me in the office. It's dark outside and even though it really hasn't been that busy in Special Investigations, there is still all the paperwork to do and reports to write. Plus, I like to get in some nit-picky organizational duties done every so often.
Sometimes it's nice to be here, just doing paperwork. It almost convinces me that I'm a "normal" cop.
Until, of course, I have to mention vampires, werewolves, or other spooky creatures. It's a rather abrupt reminder.