(no subject)
Claire steps through a doorway, one of her doorways, one of her arches, really, and finds herself not in the hallway leading towards her office, but somewhere new.
It's a bar, busy, but so much more civilized than Gwen's that she knows she's hallucinating. Hallucinations are the first sign of blood deprivation, so she checks her watch, but it hasn't been long enough.
Ergo, she must actually be somewhere else.
"You are," someone says to her right.
She turns, completely calm and is eye to eye with someone sitting on a table. The first thing she notices is how clean he is, pale skin showing perfect blue veins and he looks so much more edible than someone with the slight layer of grunge that most unmutated humans now have.
Licking her lips, she snaps her gaze away from the kid's neck, "What am I right about?"
"Nothing," he's smirking. "You look like a fish."
Adapting quickly was what those who survived did. Failure to realize that a new world was being born as soon as the first person died meant that you didn't get any further than the first days, maybe even the first hours. Zombies were thorough teachers.
"A fish?" she asks, archly. "I assume you mean a shark."
There's a long beat as he stares at her.
"No," he says, eventually. "I meant a fish. One of those ones with a big mouths that look like morons."
When he talks, his throat moves and there's a soft pulse point that she stares at. She leans in to sniff it.
"Get off of me," he yells, shoving at her and almost falling off the table in the process. She backs off, satisfied.
"You're weird," he says, making a face.
No one's touched her like that since... well, ever.
"And you've got lovely veins," she says.
The kid, red hair contrasting brilliantly with his eyes, disappears in a flash.
*****
The bar provides her blood when she asks for it. It's so rich that she almost over drinks, finds herself feeling a little nauseous. When she's leaning against the side of a toilet wall, he reappears, another brilliant flash that leaves her seeing the afterimage.
"Are you a vampire?" he asks.
"Yes," she says, straightening, and trying to look like herself.
"You have vomit on your shirt," he says. "And you smell like rotten meat."
This time, he just walks out of the bathroom.
*****
She glares at him across the bar, and he ignores her.
Her shirt did not have vomit on it, but she found that she could order clothes from the bar anyway. Since, as it turns out, she's stuck, she orders a wardrobe.
The low-cut red attracts more eyes than she can count, and he continues to ignore her.
Gay, she decides.
"You're queer," she announces, sitting down next to him. She puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at him, seriously. "It's alright to be different."
He moves his chair away from her. "You're weird, too."
She smirks, "At least I'm ok with liking cock," she says.
He rolls his eyes.
"Do you have one?" he asks.
"No," she takes a drink out of her wine glass. "Do you?"
The sudden red on his cheeks like a sunburn makes her hungry and amused. Probably more amused than hungry.
They glare at each other, but neither leaves.
*****
She does not like living here. He doesn't like it either. They sit and glare at each other a lot.
It passes the time.
*****
One day, a beautiful man comes in, dark hair and eyes that remind her of hunting and the feel of hunting. He nods at her, red shirt and black dress coat.
She forgets about Thom when the man takes her chin in his hands and kisses her lips.
"Good work, Claire," he says. "Keep it up."
Without noticing, she's started grinning, delighted. He pets Thom's head on the way out.
Thom is staring at her, sullen.
"Who was that?" she asks. She knows who it was, the feeling of power and grace and elegance and rightness.
"Satan," Thom says. "You whore."
Hissing at him, she says, "Slut."
They go back to ignoring each other.
*****
Thom has a sister, who is much less sullen and much more popular. She's married.
It's a little bit like watching the head cheerleader go out with the school nerd.
Claire, inevitably, thinks that it's wonderful. Whenever Alanna's around, she smiles and plays nice and stares intently at Thom's neck.
Sometimes she licks her lips.
"Stop looking at him like he's meat," Alanna eventually demands.
Innocently, Claire says, "Oh, he's too dead to be anything more than leftovers."
Thom kicks her knee hard under the table and then doesn't fix it when she can't walk.
*****
Thom also has a friend. Or, at least what appears to pass for one, a girl with long brown hair who works at the brothel upstairs.
As far as she can tell, Delia dislikes her as much as she dislikes Delia. Still, they both put on the front of liking each other, because they're too well trained, too used to politics where a smile can be traded on and a body is merely another tool to be used.
Jealousy is an emotion that isn't traded on, can't be used well, can't even be used at all except by one person: Thom. Almost positive that that's the emotion Delia feels, Claire spends even more time with Thom when Delia comes downstairs.
When they do drink together, Delia sips her wine and Claire drinks her vodka and they both smile.
She sleeps with Delia because Claire has nothing better to do.
*****
The bar locks her room after her fifth week without paying. She tries bargaining, and eventually breaks a bottle of Atlantean over its surface.
For one night, she's in the cells, angry and caged. They bring her blood and she tries to relax, but can't without someone there to try it before she does.
"I heard you threw a fit and got locked up," Thom says.
"I tried renegotiating," Claire says. "Bar stopped giving me a fair market value on living accommodations."
"Do you need somewhere to stay?" Thom asks.
Tightening her hands into fists, she says, "Yes."
He hands her a key and she disappears into his room.
A moment later he's there, picking up a new shirt and a pair of socks, glaring at her. "Don't kill yourself with gratitude," he says.
"You'll be sleeping...." she glances at the only bed in the room.
There are a few things that even Claire refuses to do for a place to sleep.
"With my sister," he says.
Rolling her eyes, she says, "Glad to see someone understands the meaning of family."
He flips her off and disappears.
*****
One day, she twists the door knob and it opens. Even though Thom is at a table, where she sent him a bottle of wine, she doesn't look back when she walks through.
*****
end