The Trouble with Trees

Mika's Note: WOW!  Less than 400 words!  Whoda ever thunk it, coming from me?  Idea was spurred by something someone said.

As strange as it may sound, a tree kept me in the bar all night. Yeah, I know, wishful thinking, right? But not so. You see, my ex is a freak. He can’t seem to let go and annoys me to no end on a daily basis. And my doctor wonders why I suffer from anxiety. I swear, really.

So, when he caught me out last night, he just had to approach me and get in my face. I hate that more than anything and I just so wasn’t in the mood to deal with his crap. So, when he started in with his ‘don’t you love me anymore’ and ‘why can’t we work it out’ junk, I just leaned over and kissed my new friend. Long and hard.

And she kissed me back.

Needless to say, he freaked even more than usual. Serves him right, but I digress. He ranted, he raved, and then he went out into the parking lot and pulled a chainsaw out of the trunk of his sedan. See, I told you he was a freak. He then took said chainsaw and hacked at the tree I parked underneath that evening. Dumb move, I’m now thinking.

It took three hours for the rescue team to remove the tree from my poor little Miata. Then it took another hour for the insurance adjuster to arrive, pissed at being drug out of bed at so late an hour. Police, hangers-on, and drunks surrounded me. Well, us, I suppose. Lorie stayed by my side as they hauled Karl away, screaming that he’d get me, some day, eventually. She also stayed through the insurance guy yelling at me and the two cute rescue workers declining any payment once they’d heard the full story.

Interesting the evening, to say the least.

Now, I’m not the type to go for a one night stand, least of all with another woman. But hey, anymore, I’m up to just about anything. So, Lorie’s at the door, waving to indicate the tree is now off my car and we’re clear to go.

Apparently our friendly neighborhood tree boys are following us home.

Curiouser and curioser.

But heck… after the night from hell… who am I to complain?

And see, it really was the trees fault I never made it home… at all… last week.

Male Order

Mika's Notes: My BFF is attempting to get back into the dating scene and told me yesterday that it'd be so much easier to find a man if she could just pick one out of a catalogue.  That innocent (and oh-so-honest) comment inspired this.  Thanks Red, and yeah, I know, you'll never forgive me, right?

Deafened by the roar of the truck in the garage, she rubbed her temples, praying for an Advil or two. Imagine that, and I haven’t even made it inside where the kids are yet. Ali smiled to herself, forcing herself to leave the solitude of her truck’s cab. The vibrations made by the obnoxiously loud vehicle still reverberated in her head and the garage.

It’s such a man thing, she thought to herself, to have a vehicle that people can hear before they ever see it. But then, that was Blake all over. This was the man that managed to rig a custom muffler onto his tractor after all.

Laughing quietly, she grabbed her laptop and walked the fifteen feet to her mailbox. Securing her computer between her boots, she tugged open the ailing metal box and started pulling mail out. Bills, bills, and more bills, she noticed. A few ads, a letter from a friend on the other side of the country, and a thin, cardboard box.

Odd, she thought, turning the box over in her hands. I haven’t ordered anything. My Perfect Man & Co? She shook her head as the laughter bubbled out of her. Sounds like an ‘adult bookstore’ to me. Shrugging, she piled all the other mail on top of the box, lifted her laptop and headed back towards the chaos.

“Ah, thank God you’re home,” Blake announced upon seeing her. “I have to run.”

“What?” Ali asked, setting her laptop on the breakfast counter. “Where are you going?”

“To meet Billy and that brother of yours, remember?” He had a brief moment of panic, thinking he’d forgotten to tell her after all.

The light came on and she relaxed. “Of course, I forgot.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Blake teased her, flashing her his overly white teeth in a broad grin. “Thanks, Cookie.”

“Be home by curfew or else,” she teasingly threatened.

“Or else what?” he joked back, kissing her forehead.

“Come home late and you’ll find out,” she grinned back evilly.

Blake grimaced, knowing she still had her firearm stuck at the small of her back. “Yes ma’am,” he saluted before blowing her another kiss and running out the door.

~*~

With the kids fed and down for the night, Ali grabbed the mail and sat on the couch, a glass of water on the table before her. She’d just separated out the bills from the junk when the front door opened and a red head poked inside.

“Is it clear?”

“Yeah, Shana, it’s clear,” Ali laughed at her friend. “Come on in.”

“Thanks. If those rugrats of yours saw me…”

“It’d be all over but the ‘Auntie, Aunite!’” They both laughed at that; Rory and Rayna had an unnatural love for her best friend. “And, on that note, where is the little one?”

“He’s at home, asleep. I needed a few minutes alone, so I rustled up a baby sitter. Figured I’d be home long before Billy anyway.”

Ali nodded. “Yeah, and if it came to that, you could sneak home and get him and bring him back. It’d take two seconds to set up the play pen.”

Shana eyed her closely. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Aren’t you the one who always said, “Lead me not into temptation; I can find my own way?”

She just laughed evilly. “Paying bills? How exciting,” she teased. “Ali hon, I think you’ve been married too long.”

“Not paying them, not just yet. Sorting them out from the riff raff that came in today’s mail.”

“Ahh,” Shana commented, understanding. “Get anything interesting?”

“Aside from a letter from Courtney, not much.”

“She doing okay out there in Hell?”

Ali had to smile at that. Shana, being from the South had no real concept of heat and couldn’t comprehend why anyone would willingly want to live in the southwestern United States. “Yeah, seems to be enjoying her new post, so all is well.”

“That’s cool,” she was saying when she spotted the box. “What’s that?”

Shrugging, Ali had no answer. “Dunno, haven’t opened it yet.” She handed it to her friend and allowed her the honors. “Didn’t order anything so it’s probably junk.”

Ripping open the easy pull tab, Shana silently agreed. Upon getting the box open, she pulled out a hardbound book. The cover depicted a buff, bronzed man in nothing but his tighty-whiteys. “…Assembly Required: Go from slim pickens to perfect pickens in six weeks,” she read, amused.

“What the hell?” Ali asked, taking the book from her friend’s hands. Flipping through the pages, their eyes widened as they grazed over the full-color glossy pictures of men’s bodies.

“Oh my God,” Shana snorted, “I think it’s a catalogue of some sort.”

Ali closed the book and looked more closely at the cover. “I think you’re right.” She pointed to the fine print near the bottom of the front cover, near to the UPC code. “A do-it-yourself catalogue for building the perfect man.”

“No freaking way!”

“Oh heavens to Mergatroid, I think it is.”

Laying the book flat on the coffee table before them, Ali opened to the table of contents and they skimmed the page, commenting on the chapter titles.

“Introduction,” Ali quipped, seems like a good way to start a book.

“Brains vs. Brawn: How to decide if you want a smart man or a buff man.” Shana grinned, thinking on Billy for a moment. “Definitely buff over brains any day.”

Ali sighed. “Easy for you to say, I’ve got neither.”

“Aww, poor Blake,” Shana giggled, “but at least he’s cute.”

“Yeah, there is that. And look at this one, Chapter Six, Packages vs. Prowess: Should he be hung or should he have staying power?”

“Ohmigawd,” she choked, “can’t we get both?”

“Finally,” Ali laughed, “I’ve got at least one of those.”

Waggling her eyebrows, Shana grinned, “Wanna share which one?” Knowing Ali would change the subject instead of answering, she blurted, “And this! Hair and Eyes: Do blondes really have more fun? And are those baby blues worth the upgrade?”

After perusing the table of contents, they went over the color contents with a fine-toothed comb, building their ‘perfect’ man in jest. Knowing that while the men they already had were far from perfect, they were also far from rotten.

“Oh geez, look at the hair on that one,” Shana groaned. “How could anyone find that sexy?”

Ali coughed, choking on her mojito. Sometime during their perusal, they’d graduated from water to rum. “Wanna rethink that one? Last time I saw Billy without a shirt I remember thinking he needed some mowing.”

“Not my fault your man has more hair on his face than on his chest,” she teased back.

“I like it that way, thankyouverymuch.” She laughed until she saw something else that caught her eye. “How about this, you can get your skin tones in anything from albino, and that’s an actual color here, to ‘as dark as it gets’.”

“Hmmm, dial-a-tone on your man, interesting. I’ll take mine somewhere in the middle, not too dark, but not pale either.”

Ali nodded in agreement, “Me too. Like mine toasted a bit.”

(September 18, 2008)

“Toasted? Yeah, I think you are,” Shana laughed, raising her glass. Taking a sip, she noticed the time suddenly. “Damn, this has been fun, but I promised I’d be home by ten.”

Looking up, Ali noticed it was quarter past. “I’ll call home and let your sitter know you’re on your way. We can pick this up at work tomorrow.”

Shana leered and giggled, “You can count on that.”

She shook her head and watched her friend climb into her car and drive off. Satisfied that she’d be okay, Ali called ahead and let Shana’s temporary replacement know she’d be home before long. “Guess I ought to check on the kids and put myself to bed as well,” she muttered walking down the hallway, turning off all but the entrance light.

~*~

The alarm jolted her out of sleep, startling her awake. Ali stretched and yawned, looking beside her to make sure her husband had made it home in one piece. He evidently returned sometime during the night. The drool on the pillow proved he’d been home for at least a couple hours. He didn’t start that until he’d been asleep at least three hours.

She’d been in the shower before it hit her. The build-a-man catalogue. Ali started to laugh at the absurdity of her subconscious mind. “What a bizarre dream,” she told the shampoo. “Just one question, is somebody trying to tell me something?”

Having gotten herself together for the day, she holstered her gun and reached for her cell phone, pressing the talk button and dialing Shana, intending to make sure Billy had made it home as well. “Morning,” she greeted her long-time friend, closing the bedroom door behind her. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Not too shabby. Billy stumbled in sometime after two this morning, I think.”

“Sounds about right,” Ali agreed. “I have to tell you, I had the strangest dream last night.”

“Really?” Ali was known for her bizarre dreams and any mention of one perked those who knew her right up. “Was it juicy?”

Ali snorted. “Not quite, but it had potential. I got a catalogue in the mail,” she began, entering the living room and spying her glass of water and grinning, “and it was a build your own man spec book.”

“Oh my God, you’ve got to be joking!” Shana exclaimed. “Did you share with me?”

“Yeah, we actually looked at it together and…” her voice trailed off as her eyes spotted a piece of cardboard on the floor.

“And?” Shana urged.

“And we built our perfect men.” Moving to the far end of the coffee table, she found the box. What the hell?

“Sounds like fun to me, although I am pretty partial to the one I’ve already got.”

“Yeah,” Ali agreed distractedly. “Me too, usually. Um, can I talk to you in a bit?”

“Sure, I need to finish getting dressed anyway. See you in ten.”

“Yeah, see you.” Ali pressed the end button and stared at the coffee table. And the catalogue from My Perfect Man & Co. sitting on top of it.

A Day in the Life

Mika's Notes: Sadly, this really DID happen.  And even scarier?  They HIRED HIM.

99.5% of the time I love my job, I really do.  I like talking to people.  I like the joking and teasing and good humor of the plumbers I work with.  But every now and then, things go bad fast.

My number 1 pet peeve is stupid people.  If you're confused or you just don't understand,that's one thing, and entirely understandable.  Even if you just forgot, which is annoying as hell, it's still understandable.  But when you're just plain stupid?  I don' get it.

Today's example:

We're hiring, right?  Okay, no big deal, or so you would think.  However, a 'help wanted' ad seems to bring out every freak and crazy person in the valley.  Along with all the stupid ones as well.  I cannot tell you how many calls a day I get during an ad run asking if we are still hiring plumbers.  Nope, sorry, we're only looking for electricians today.  DOH!  We're a PLUMBING company you freak!  Of COURSE we're looking for plumbers!

But I digress.

Not long after I arrived this morning, I got a typical call. 

Me: "Good morning, Blade Plumbing, how may I help you?"

Freak du Jour: "I saw your ad in the paper."

Me, rolling eyes: "Yes.  And?"

Freak: "Are you still hiring plumbers?"

Me, resisting the urge to tell him the ad only started today and that um, yeah, we're still hiring.  "Of course, come on in and put in an application."

Freak: "Well, you know, gas prices are high right now and I'd rather not come all the way down if I'm not going to get the job."

Me, grasping phone in a choke hold: "Well, they don't do phone interviews and if you're experienced, I'm sure there won't be an issue with you getting hired."  Didn't tell him we were rather desperate at that point.

Long silence and then Freak: "Oh, okay."  Disgusted sigh.  "I'll come down.  Where are you located?"

So, I, being the amazingly organized and efficient secretary that I am, give him our address, cross streets, and some brief directions.  Now, several years ago, we expanded our building and now share it with a communications company.  Their doors are locked for security reasons and you have to call up to get clearance to be let in. Us, not so much, but you have to tell people it seems because they miss the very obvious, very bright green sign hanging over our door.  So, I tell him: "When you get here, pull into the first driveway and park in the parking lot.  You'll see a big, bright sign with Blade Plumbing on it."

Freak: "Okay, I'll be there in an hour."

Four hours later, I get another call. 

Me: "Good afternoon, Blade Plumbing, how may I help you?"

Freak from Earlier: "You're not here."

Me, wondering WTF this guy is smoking.  "Yes, we are.  Our door is set back from the main building some, but there's a..."

Freak, who is beginning to tick me off.  "No, you're not.  I'm in your parking lot and you're not here."

Me, now wishing he was sharing whatever it was: "Okay, where are you?"

Freak: "You're across from the paper company, right?"

Me: "Right.  And where are you?"

"I'm in the lot directly across from the paper company, and you're not there."

Me, thinking the hell I'm not, if I wasn't we wouldn't be having this inane conversation.: "Yes we are.  Stay right where you are and I'll come out and get you."

And that's exactly what I did.  I got up from my desk and poked my head into our Estimator, Jordan's, office.  Luckily, his brother, Davis, was there as well since he's the one doing the hiring.  "I'm going downstairs to prove to this freak that we are where I said we are.  My advice?  Don't hire him.  He's in the parking lot and can't find us."  Leaving them staring after me, I went down the stairs, out the front door and into the parking lot.  I found him standing four cars down from the front door, unable to locate the BIG FREAKING SIGN above the door. 

And yeah, they hired him.

And you wonder why I'm a Mad Secretary, right?

Dakotah: Interlude: A Vampire in Wal*Mart

This was written in January 2005 and follows directly after Sierra's story.  Poor Kotie. 

Things change when you’ve been dead a couple hundred years. I discovered that again just this evening. You see, I’ve been dating a woman 270-something years younger than me (give or take a couple decades), and tonight she’s told me that the impossible has happened.

We’re going to have a baby.

Now, I don’t know how this happened. Well, I know the theory of how and the science behind it but what I don’t understand is the how of it. After all, I’m dead, aren’t I? I guess I’m more alive than I previously thought.

Not even our resident vamp doc quite understands it all. Although, I think he’s holding out on us.

Which is why I’m here. In Wal*Mart. Searching for baby clothes, cribs, and all that goes with having an infant in your home. Unfortunately, there isn’t much open at this time of night. Even in Las Vegas, your options are limited at 2:30 in the morning.

I’m a lucky vampire. I have a beautiful redheaded witch who loves me and doesn’t mind a boyfriend who has a tendency to be a pain in the neck. She takes care of my day-to-day operations and ensures that no one opens the blinds in my bedroom at lunchtime. Despite the fact that she’s been tempted to do exactly that on occasions, she cares enough to resist the urge and I’m thankful. She’s self-supporting and owns her own business. A very modern witch. What more could a bloodsucker want?

But this. What do I do with this? A baby? Seriously. I haven’t been a father since I was turned three hundred and some years ago. My son was only a toddler then. Now he and his mother are nothing more than dust. Every last parenting skill I might have ever had is dust along with them.

Sweet Sierra. She’s too good to me. In an effort to ease my anxiety, she has purchased nearly every book she can find on fathering and parenting. And even one or two on being an older father. I doubt that I’m what they had in mind when they wrote those. Not that I can really comprehend much of what was inside those books. During the short period of time I was a father, my duty was to keep my family from being murdered and hopefully bring some money in. Everything else was up to my wife.

I am so not prepared for this.

So here I still am, at Wal*Mart, at 2:45 on a Wednesday morning. Pink or blue? Yellow or green? How am I supposed to know? My son wore black, white and grey. Not much else was allowed for young men back then. They aren’t kidding when they say things were better in the good ole days.

I’m in over my head, I think. When I get home I’m going to leave my credit card for Sierra and let her do the shopping. After all, what’s the rush? There’s still 30 weeks to go until D-Day.

And there’s no doubt she’ll know better than I do.

Sierra: Part 2

Not a whole lot to warn you about in this story.  No sex, very little language, but a bit of suggestion.  :)  And um, okay, so I had a hard time breaking this apart and you got two pieces. LOL  Also, forgive my formatting... I never bothered to fix that, either.  LMAO.

That's how it started.

Here's what happened next:

Dakotah remained estranged from me for many months. It wasn't until after Angie and Peyton split ways that I saw him again...

~*~

I was just turning off the shower when the phone started ringing. Expecting the answering machine to pick up, I reached out and grabbed my towel and began drying.

Three rings. Stop. Three more rings. Stop again.

Odd. Whoever was calling was hanging up before the machine could pick up. Grunting, I wrapped the towel around me and waddled damply to my phone. Looking at the caller ID, I noticed Angie's number. Before I could even think to call her, the phone rang in my hand.

"Hello?"

"Jeez Sierra! Where have you been?"

"In the shower, Ang. What's it to you?" Man, she was agitated. "You could've left a message."

"What? To tell you I dumped Peyton? Not hardly!"

"What?" It was my turn to ask this. "Why'd you dump him? I thought things were going good."

A heavy sigh came over the phone. "It *was* but not now. He was always gone at night. I couldn't ever get a hold of him during the day. He was becoming possessive and impossible!"

I counted to ten before responding. This sounded like every other guy she'd ever dated to me. "Sorry to hear that. Any idea why?"

"Yeah. Other women. LOTS of other women. I'm such an idiot."

"Nah," I consoled. We all make mistakes. Big ones sometimes," like letting a gorgeous man getting away without even getting his number, I thought. "Don't worry about it too much."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Maybe you're right." She was quiet for a moment, then: "There is this cute guy in my biology lab that's been asking me out..."

"There you go! Perfect!"

"Thanks! He left me his number; maybe I'll go call him. Thanks, Sierra. I knew you'd help!"

"Anytime," I lied. She was just too easy to 'convince' when it came to men. Angie wasn't a whore, but it didn't take much to coerce her into dating someone. Oh well. She just moves on. Wish I could.

I'd just put down the phone and was on my way back to my room when the phone rang again. Expecting Angie again, I answered the phone: "So what now? Need permission to sleep with him too?"

"Excuse me?" came that sultry voice I never thought I'd hear again. "While I admit to a dalliance or two in the past, I've been quite content with women for a very long time."

Oh my goddess! "Dakotah? Is that you? I'm so sorry! I was expecting Angie again and she's always looking for approval for whatever crazy idea she already has. I..."

"Shh, it's quite all right." He was laughing at me which *wasn't* 'quite all right'. "I found myself at your doorstep this evening and was wondering if you had plans for the evening."

"No," I said then kicked myself. THAT sounded desperate. "I mean, not yet. What brings you over here after so long?" I have to admit I was fishing.

"I'd finally decided I'd been too long without you and your company. May I come up?"

"I'm naked." DOH! Idiot! "I mean, I just got out of the shower and haven't gotten ready yet. I'm a mess."

"You're lovely as you are. Please, go get dressed. Leave that paint off your face. You've got a lovely complexion; don't ruin it with that stuff."

I was dumbfounded. NEVER had a man told me to forget the spackle. Hmm...

"I'll patiently wait down here until you're ready."

Quick moral debate. Morals lose. "Come on up. I'll let you in and then get dressed."

He arrived at my door in half a minute. I let him in and retreated to my bedroom practically floating. He was, if possible, even *more* gorgeous than before.

"What were you planning?" I called from behind my half-closed door.

"Nothing fancy, just a walk in the moonlight maybe. Dress comfortable."

That, I like. Comfy. Jeans, Hello Kitty T-shirt, Nikes.

He slowly appraised me as I emerged from my room. His amazing blue eyes devoured me from head to toe and back again. "Perfect. You look perfect."

Without another word, he took my hand and led me out of my apartment and onto the sidewalk. We walked towards the park and basked in the light of the nearly full moon. He didn't speak again until we'd passed through the park and back again. At my door, he paused and considered me carefully.

I was flying high right then. My prince had returned! "Come on, we can talk inside." I turned to go in and he stood on the mat.

"Sierra, I came tonight to apologize for something that happened when we were last together. I did something inexcusable.”

Inexcusable? I didn't remember much but I knew it couldn't have been THAT. There wasn't any way. My neck was the only thing sore that morning. Well, that and my head.

"*Please* come inside. I have *extremely* nosy neighbors."

He contemplated that for a minute and reluctantly stepped inside. I curled up in my favorite chair, waiting for the bomb to drop. He remained standing, pacing, wearing a hole in my already sad carpet.

"I took advantage of you last time we met." I started to protest and he waved me quiet. "No, not in the way you're thinking. We regrettably did not have intercourse but... I did trespass upon your body in a way I shouldn't have."

Okay, if you say so. "I'm confused. If we didn't have sex, then how did you take advantage of me? Did you rob me?"

Wearily shaking his head, he sighed, "No, my dear. It's not that simple." He paced some more. "How should I say this? I'm not like other men you've met."

Ain't that the truth, I thought to myself. I've never met a god before.

"That's not what I meant either," he replied to my thoughts, startling me. "But I am happy to see you find me desirable."

"Okay, now you're freaking me out. HOW did you know what I was thinking?"

He caught my gaze again like he did that night but this time I didn't feel my body yielding to his like before but I was unable to look away. His hands lightly gripped my wrists. :I'm not human. I'm a creature of the night. That night, I took your blood and not your innocence. It doesn't matter anyway because I didn't have your permission to do so.:

He released his hold on me. I blinked rapidly trying to take in what he'd just revealed to me. "Why are you telling me this? Why didn't you just erase my memory or kill me off?"

"Because in all my three hundred and more immortal years, never have I come across someone such as you. Only once, in my mortal life, did I know someone like you. My wife. She was lost to me the night I became what I now am." He paused and looked out my window. "But that's a story for another night."

I remained silent. What do you say to something like that? I mean, how often do you have supernatural creatures confessing in your living room? Not often on my block!

"You have an old soul, Sierra. I'm not going to tell you you're my wife reincarnated because I don't think you are. But you aren't new to this earth. You've walked this path before. There's a reason things come easy to you. Baking, healing, working magic." His eyes met mine and he went on. "I've been looking for someone like you for a long time."

In the midst of trying to find the right words, he pressed his lips against mine, gently at first, but quickly with growing passion. With one arm snaking around my waist, he pulled me against him. I could feel the hard lines of his body and the tips of his protruding fangs as his tongue pushed into my mouth. Gasping for breath from the unexpected kiss, I stared up into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he began, backing away. "I couldn't stop..."

I grabbed his wrist and stopped his retreat. "Kiss me again," was all I managed before he was on me again.

~*~

Being the lady that I am, I will leave it at that. He tasted my blood again that night, bringing us both more pleasure than we knew possible, but just a nip and no more. Dakotah was determined to court me in his old-fashioned way and I was bound to let him. It's nice being courted. And taking just a sip was his way of letting me know he respected me for more than a meal.

I now live with him in his place on the outskirts of town. Or, what used to be the outskirts. This city has grown so much, there isn't much outskirt left. The wildest parts of town are the more densely inhabited areas instead of the dry, desert areas of old.

We've lived here for close to 18 months together. It was the best decision I'd ever made. I just hope I still have a place to live in the coming months. He's a good guy, yes, but he's not always that understanding. Besides, it's going to be quite a shock. All these years he didn't believe he could father a child. A big shock. Three hundred plus years is a *long* time to go believing something only to have it proven wrong.

~*~

So, are you still with me? Good! Glad I could entertain you. Now, I've got to go rest my ever-expanding body and prepare for the influx of trick-or-treaters. Might as well try and think of a way to break this interesting bit of news to my blood-sucking, creature-of-the-night, father-to-be too.

What's that? The truth? Come right out with it? Nah, it'll never work. I'd wind up with more than the usual hickey he gives me, I think.

Guess it's a good thing it's Halloween. At least no one would notice his fangs as he's chasing me down the street.

Maybe I can convince him it was aliens...

Sierra: Part 1

Mika's Note: This story isn't very long, only a little over 4,000 words, so instead of chapters, I think I'll just break it up into 3 or 4 parts.  And I also just came to the realization that I never did fix this story to fit with Dakotah, so I'm thinking she'll be having a flashback later, in another story.  *sigh*  Why do I do these things to myself?

Originally written October 2003.

The Witching Hour. All Hallow's Eve. My night to howl, so to speak.

I think I've been spending entirely *too* many nights howling lately. Or, at least, that's what my body's telling me. Sick as a dog, no energy, grouchy to the extreme. Yup, my body's *definitely* telling me something.

I'm gonna be a Mama.

Which, under ordinary circumstances, wouldn't be so bad. But I've got a problem. No, no... my boyfriend didn't leave me. No, he doesn't beat me or otherwise abuse me. Nope, he's as loving and considerate as any one man can be. And he's hot to boot. The problem is much more serious than that.

You see, my boyfriend's a vampire.

Yeah, you heard right. Vampire. As in neck-biting, blood-sucking, turning-into-a-bat-and-flying-away vampire. Well, maybe not turning into a bat...

But the neck-biting is good. Too good.

He doesn't know. Not yet. Gods, not yet. But in time he will. Soon. I'm running out of time. And excuses.

So, I gather from that look on your face that you're wondering how all this happened. Well, it's a long story. I'd be happy to tell you if you're content to sit and listen.

You are? Well, get comfortable we'll be here awhile...

~*~

It was Samhain, or Halloween if you must, three years ago tonight. I was decked out in all my witchy glory and headed out with a group of friends to a newly discovered club they'd been invited to. It was supposed to be full of really hot guys, one friend had confided. Truth to be told, it was full of really *COLD* guys. Cold as in dead, or more appropriately, Undead. But we didn't discover that until later.

We headed out in my best friend Angie's car. With six of us packed into her Toyota, we joked and teased as we made our way over towards UNLV and the plethora of trendy bars and hangouts that surrounded the campus. I'd always wondered who thought to put that school so close to not only the airport but the Strip as well. Just what college kids need - easy access to booze, women and gambling. And a fast way out. But I digress...

"Sierra, I'm shocked."

"Shocked? Why Angie?"

"Look at you! Black cape, long peasant dress, Tinkerbell wand... It's not like you to perpetuate stereotypes. All you're missing is a tall, pointy hat."

"Sorry Ang, I left the hat at home with my broom." Laughing at myself, I continued, "Nah, but it IS Halloween. I just thought I'd dress so everyone *else* would know I was a witch."

"According to Donny," chimed in Celia, another girlfriend, "you don't need to dress up."

"Yeah, well, what does Donny know?" I mumbled, trying not to think too much about my recent ex. "After all, he does prefer Lana to us."

We all laughed in an attempt to erase Celia's untimely comment. Donny and I had been an item for well over a year - my first steady man since graduation. Then, one night about three weeks ago, he left without a word of explanation. Angie and Tara saw him out hanging on Lana a few nights later, a girl he swore he couldn't stand. So much for honesty in relationships, right?

"Look at this place!" whined Constance, our resident rich girl. "It looks like a warehouse!"

Laughing, Angie replied, "Gee, I hope it ain't a strip club then!" referencing the fact that most of the strip clubs around town were precisely that, warehouses.

We unfolded ourselves out of the car, straightened our clothes, and basically primped before heading inside. Looking around at the bland facade, my eye caught on the club's sign. Nightwalkers. "Hey Ang, that's quite an odd name for a club, isn't it?"

She glanced at the sign and nodded. "Yeah, but then a real oddball told me about this place. Remember Peyton? That cutie in my night class? Him."

"Oh no!" I laughed. "We're in trouble then!"

"Now Sierra, he's a nice guy,” she scolded. "Just a bit... eccentric... is all. Besides, he said he'd be here tonight, so be nice!"

"Yes Mom," I mocked as well all entered the club.

The illusion of a warehouse vanished as soon as you entered the building. Plush, antique-type sofa benches were scattered everywhere. Made of some sort of dark wood, they sported red velvet cushions and practically called out, "Come sit on me". The floor was concrete, stamped in an odd design that resembled flowing water and colored a pale reddish-pink. The bar was on the far wall, directly opposite the front entrance. It was made of the same dark wood as the sofas and polished to a high shine. A gorgeous, redheaded creature with brilliant green eyes stood behind it taking orders and mixing drinks.

Off to the far right was a high, old-fashioned stage that was currently void of entertainment. A rich, red velvet curtain hung directly behind it, presumably hiding the performers. The rest of the huge space was littered with people dancing, drinking, and trying to pick each other up amongst the many tables and sofas.

Spying the stage, Tara stage-whispered playfully, "Oh my gosh, it IS a strip club!"

"I resent that comment!" came a familiar voice from behind us.

"Sorry Peyton!" Angie called as her tall, blonde god walked up and hugged her. "We were just joking."

An odd twinkle lit up his eyes. "'S’okay. No offense taken, my dear." He focused his smile on her a moment longer before turning it on the rest of us. "So, are you going to introduce me to your friends or not?" he teased.

Flustered, Angie sputtered, "OH! Of course! You know Tara, right?" he nodded and she went on. "This is Celia," pointing to our short brunette friend, "Constance," pointing to *our* blonde goddess, "Paige," our redheaded goddess, "and Sierra." That's me, of course, the resident pagan and scapegoat. "Guys, this is Peyton." We smiled and passed hellos back and forth.

"Ladies, why don't you find your way over to the bar and order yourselves some refreshments? I regret that, with the holiday tonight, there won't be any performances, but we can find a way to entertain ourselves, I'm sure." He paused and looked back over his shoulder. "I have some friends with me. They're over that way," he pointed over his shoulder in the direction he'd looked before. "Be dears and get something for my Angie, would you? We'll meet you over at our table."

Tara took Angie's order and we wove our way to the bar. Waiting for my drink to arrive, I watched Angie and her new paramour. She hadn't mentioned anything about seeing him, but anything was possible. He was certainly enjoying her company however.

Constance and Paige were noticed by a couple of hunks almost immediately after reaching the bar. They made obvious faces and we laughed and waved them off. Grinning like schoolgirls, they focused their attention back on their new pals. We couldn't deny them; this is why we were here after all.

On the way back to Angie and co, Celia was headed off by a rather obnoxious and completely obvious young man. And Celia, being Celia, drank it up and excused herself.

Looking at each other, Tara grinned at me. "Looks like I just might be going home with *you* tonight."

"I love you and all, Tara, but you're just not my type." We giggled self-consciously and resumed our mission, drinks in hand.

"Where are the girls?" Angie queried as I set her drink before her.

"Out there," I said, motioning my chin out towards the dancing throng. "Mingling, I suppose."

"Ah," Angie replied knowingly. "I see. Anyway, Tara, Sierra, this is Andrei, Peyton's roommate."

"Hi," he replied, shaking both our hands. "Nice to meetcha."

"We're still missing a member of our party," Peyton interrupted. "Dakotah's not very fond of this kind of place so he tends to hide. But, he's here somewhere."

"Oh, okay," I replied, not knowing what else to say. I looked to Tara for help but she was oblivious. Her eyes were locked onto Andrei's. He was standing now, with one hand outstretched to her. Seeing a lost cause for what it was, I turned back to Angie and Peyton.

"Angie dear, I do think Andrei has the right idea. Would you like to dance?"

By the way Angie's face lit up, I didn't need to hear her answer. Her voice found me anyway. "Sierra hon, are you gonna be okay here by yourself? I mean..."

I cut her off. "Go, dance! It's okay. Besides, I'm still nurturing some unresolved anger. Go have fun." She didn't need any convincing. They were off before I'd finished my sentence.

Looking down at my Coke, I frowned. "Why'd I pick tonight to stay sober?" I mumbled, wallowing in my own self-pity. Poor me.

"Maybe because that alcohol crap will kill you. Or at least get you into serious trouble in a place like this."

Startled, I looked up.

"Sorry," apologized the voice. "I thought my friends had been sitting here."

"If you mean Peyton and Andrei, yeah, they were here."

"Where are they now?" I pointed without looking and he nodded. "As I thought. Mind if I join you?"

"S-sure," I stumbled. "Plenty of room."

He seated himself across from me and held out his hand. "I'm Dakotah. Sorry they all abandoned you. No social skills, that group."

"No, it's okay." I forced myself to look him in the eye and was startled and surprised by what I saw.

His eyes were a deep blue color, framed by long, thick lashes. The kind most women would kill for. He had long, dark hair that fell in loose waves down his back, almost to his waist. There must've been some kind of Indian blood somewhere in his family because he had that beautiful caramel-colored skin and fine features that the Indian people call their own. And his body, well, wow.

But there was a contradiction in his eyes that I couldn't figure out. As beautiful as they were, they seemed out of place in his young face. Almost like they'd seen more than his years hinted at. Liked they belonged in an old man's face and not in a fresh kid's. I told myself I was imagining things and tried to concentrate on what he was saying. He was so hot however, that I had a hard time looking at anything but his well-muscled arms or hearing anything but my heart thudding in my chest.

"This isn't my thing. Especially not on a night like this. I'd rather be out under the moonlight." he was saying.

"Yeah, I agree," I think I said.

Angie and Peyton suddenly appeared next to us. "Glad to see you decided to show your face, pal." Peyton shot out. "Had a young lady all alone here at our table."

I swear Dakotah rolled his eyes. "Well, if you weren't so eager to get your fang on, she wouldn't have been here alone, would she?"

"Fang on?" Angie asked, confused. "Oh, I get it! Like 'get your groove on' but you used fang since were in this gothy-vampish club!" She tittered a little laugh. "That's funny!" Dakotah just stared at Peyton.

"We're going to go cuddle on a couch. You two should join us." :She looks like she's pretty tasty. I wouldn't let her get away if I were you.:

:Go away, Peyton. Do what you want. Just be discreet! There are way too many mortals in here tonight. If you must feed, then do so out of sight:

Obviously, I was unaware of this conversation, but I knew something was going on. The tension at the table just went up about fifty notches.

"Whatever you say, boss." Peyton spat.

"I'm not your boss. I'm just tired of your games." Dakotah watched Peyton lead Angie over to an unoccupied couch in the corner. He turned his attention back to me as they began to make out. "Please, excuse me. I need to get out of here. My apologies - I don't mean to leave you on your own."

"No worries. Not like it's the first time it's happened tonight." I looked out towards where my friends had disappeared. "Unlike my friends, I'm not interested in one-night stands and carousing all night." I watched nameless faces pass by me on their way to and from the bar. "Maybe I should leave too."

"If I miss my guess, you all came here with Peyton's friend, right?"

How the hell did he know that? "Yeah, we came with Angie. So?"

"So, you don't have any way home."

"I can catch a cab."

"Not in this area. You'd be history."

"I've lived here a long time. Don't worry about it."

"I'll take you home."

"Um, no. And you're worried about thugs on the streets? Sorry, you're a Greek God and all, but I'm not that stupid."

"Romanian."

"Huh?"

"Romanian God. But that's beside the point." He caught my gaze with those incredible blue eyes and I felt my body yield to his command. There'd be no arguments from me anytime soon. "It's okay. I don't bite." *Weeelll, not hard anyway.* "I'll take you home and you'll be safe."

"Okay." Don't ask me how or why, but suddenly I trusted him. He took me by the hand and led me to the front door. I followed like a lovesick puppy.

"My truck is over here." He directed me to the left and escorted me to a newish Dodge Ram. While unlocking my door, he glanced back at the club, like he was sending psychic hate mail or something. "Get in." I obeyed.

I don't remember telling him which way to go but I must have since he found my place without a hitch. He had my keys in his hand and let me into my own apartment. I felt obligated to have him in for a drink. I *do* remember screaming at myself NOT to do this, but I don't remember listening very well.

In the end, my stupidity didn't cost me my life. But it could have. I know that now.

We talked for a good part of the night. I know that I wish we'd been otherwise occupied. After some time, I think he felt the same way. I don't know when he left me. All I know is I woke up on the wrong side of my bed, clothed in my favorite jammas, with a crick in my neck.

Sitting up and rubbing my neck, I squinted at the bright sunlight coming through my window. Morning! Oh no! Where'd the time go? I moved to get out of bed and fell to the floor. After letting the carpet comfort my pounding head for a moment, I moved more slowly and pulled myself back into bed. That's when I noticed the rose and paper on my nightstand.

Sierra:

Everything is as it should be. You drifted off to sleep shortly after midnight. I brought you to your room and laid you on your bed. I locked up and left. I next went to insure your friends all made it home safe. They are all fine.

Be warned: Nightwalkers is NOT a place for girls like you and your friends. Peyton made a serious error in inviting you along. For your own safety and sanity, do NOT return. Trust me when I say it could cost you more than your innocence.

Will I see you again? Time will tell.

Until that day, be well,

Dakotah

Sighing, berating myself for not being able to remember anything, I got a glass out of the kitchen, filled it with water, and put the rose in it. I carried it back to my room and left it on my nightstand. Wondering if I'd ever see my Greek God again, I fell asleep.

About Sierra

This is the second in the Dakotah series, told from Sierra's point of view.  I think I like this lighter, shorter story better.  However, I went back and tweaked things after re-writing the original Dakotah story, so if there's something that doesn't quite jive, shoot me a note and let me know so I can fix it.  I thought I caught all those, but you know how sneaky those inconsistencies can be...

Now, onward and upward... or was it 'to infinity and beyond!'?

~Mika and Buzz