Don’t bite the doorman
Title: Don’t bite the doorman
Author: Alanna Smithee
Gen. No pairing or warnings; TVverse
Spoiler: only for the pilot
Wordcount: 570
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Henry Fitzroy as seen through the eyes of Greg the doorman
Author's notes: My first Blood Ties fic. I was just obsessed with Greg. Feel free to point out mistakes.
ETA: Now beta-read by luvinmike. Thank you!
Greg was a pretty easygoing and tolerant person. And Henry Fitzroy was pretty and promiscuous. Almost every night he went out and, more often than not, he came back with a beautiful young lady on his arm. However Greg really prided himself on being utterly discreet. And he actually liked Mr. Fitzroy. Even though he was rich and successful, he was always perfectly polite - a quality sadly lacking in many rich people Greg had met. And to find it in such a young man. All those people always nagging about the youth having no manners should meet Henry Fitzroy.
He’d just had one dark and incredibly embarrassing moment in his relationship with Mr. Fitzroy, when he had actually believed him to be the Vampire Killer who held Toronto in his thrall. Greg squirmed just thinking about it. He’d actually stood in front of the man’s door with a stake he had carved himself. And the lady Mr. Fitzroy had had over had actually opened the door and seen him! Incredibly embarrassing. Thank God, Mr. Fitzroy had apparently been tied to the bed or Greg would have lost his job for sure.
The lady kept coming over. She was a very hot blonde and way older than Mr. Fitzroy. He tried not to think about what they did together. At some point he found out, that her name was Victoria Nelson.
Something had changed. Mr. Fitzroy came in bloodied and in tattered clothes more and more often, just like that one evening when Greg had made that terrible faux pas. Was it brawling in bars? SM-clubs? Really rough sex in back alleys? At some point Greg considered cage fights but he did not assume. He had learned his lesson.
Sometimes Mr. Fitzroy came in propped up by Miss Nelson or by an equally hot blonde male cop. Sometimes the three of them disappeared in Mr. Fitzroy’s condo, which made Greg wonder what they were up to together. He didn’t dare imagine.
Miss Nelson was obviously a very bad influence on Mr. Fitzroy.
One night around three o’clock Greg was peacefully reading his newspaper and thinking about what Myra would want him to buy at the supermarket when his shift was over at 6 am. He thought he needed new blood stain remover. The night was quiet. But they mostly were.
Mr. Fitzroy came through the front door with a deep and long gash on his chest and a massive and bloodied halberd in his hand. That thing must have been heavy but he carried it as if it weighed nothing. For a moment Greg feared for his life. Mr. Fitzroy halted in front of the reception desk. He set the staff end of the halberd on the pristine carpet. His eyes turned into unfathomable black pools. “You did not see anything suspicious tonight.” His voice resonated in Greg’s mind. He forgot the halberd and the blood.
Later he noticed the small pool of blood on the rug. While he scrubbed it with the blood stain remover he had under his desk for some reason, he remembered the bloody halberd again.
“Ah,” he said and stared in the air for a minute. Then he remembered the broadsword, the gigantic compound bow, the flamethrower and the submachine gun.
He narrowed his eyes. Mr. Fitzroy had to be a member of an incredibly active role-player community with very realistic props. Yes, that was it.
Author: Alanna Smithee
Gen. No pairing or warnings; TVverse
Spoiler: only for the pilot
Wordcount: 570
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Henry Fitzroy as seen through the eyes of Greg the doorman
Author's notes: My first Blood Ties fic. I was just obsessed with Greg. Feel free to point out mistakes.
ETA: Now beta-read by luvinmike. Thank you!
Greg was a pretty easygoing and tolerant person. And Henry Fitzroy was pretty and promiscuous. Almost every night he went out and, more often than not, he came back with a beautiful young lady on his arm. However Greg really prided himself on being utterly discreet. And he actually liked Mr. Fitzroy. Even though he was rich and successful, he was always perfectly polite - a quality sadly lacking in many rich people Greg had met. And to find it in such a young man. All those people always nagging about the youth having no manners should meet Henry Fitzroy.
He’d just had one dark and incredibly embarrassing moment in his relationship with Mr. Fitzroy, when he had actually believed him to be the Vampire Killer who held Toronto in his thrall. Greg squirmed just thinking about it. He’d actually stood in front of the man’s door with a stake he had carved himself. And the lady Mr. Fitzroy had had over had actually opened the door and seen him! Incredibly embarrassing. Thank God, Mr. Fitzroy had apparently been tied to the bed or Greg would have lost his job for sure.
The lady kept coming over. She was a very hot blonde and way older than Mr. Fitzroy. He tried not to think about what they did together. At some point he found out, that her name was Victoria Nelson.
Something had changed. Mr. Fitzroy came in bloodied and in tattered clothes more and more often, just like that one evening when Greg had made that terrible faux pas. Was it brawling in bars? SM-clubs? Really rough sex in back alleys? At some point Greg considered cage fights but he did not assume. He had learned his lesson.
Sometimes Mr. Fitzroy came in propped up by Miss Nelson or by an equally hot blonde male cop. Sometimes the three of them disappeared in Mr. Fitzroy’s condo, which made Greg wonder what they were up to together. He didn’t dare imagine.
Miss Nelson was obviously a very bad influence on Mr. Fitzroy.
One night around three o’clock Greg was peacefully reading his newspaper and thinking about what Myra would want him to buy at the supermarket when his shift was over at 6 am. He thought he needed new blood stain remover. The night was quiet. But they mostly were.
Mr. Fitzroy came through the front door with a deep and long gash on his chest and a massive and bloodied halberd in his hand. That thing must have been heavy but he carried it as if it weighed nothing. For a moment Greg feared for his life. Mr. Fitzroy halted in front of the reception desk. He set the staff end of the halberd on the pristine carpet. His eyes turned into unfathomable black pools. “You did not see anything suspicious tonight.” His voice resonated in Greg’s mind. He forgot the halberd and the blood.
Later he noticed the small pool of blood on the rug. While he scrubbed it with the blood stain remover he had under his desk for some reason, he remembered the bloody halberd again.
“Ah,” he said and stared in the air for a minute. Then he remembered the broadsword, the gigantic compound bow, the flamethrower and the submachine gun.
He narrowed his eyes. Mr. Fitzroy had to be a member of an incredibly active role-player community with very realistic props. Yes, that was it.