After Dark

[valerie_vause]

Things unravelled in the oddest of ways. Everything that had happened since she’d gotten to UNLV had been quite unusual. With so many different things happening Valerie had pulled away, secluded herself and thrown her focus into school and patrolling. Not that it really helped, because Brian was there in her thoughts, just under the surface. Reminding her of the dangers that being with him could lead to. The fact that there was a Watcher where she spent her daylight hours unnerved the blonde and she had to wonder if the woman would be against her seeing anyone. The Council liked their girls to concentrate on the supernatural entities. Then something happened, a change began to take place as she came to the conclusion that since Rhiannon also patrolled, taking a night off wasn’t a crime.

Valerie had felt the anxiety shift to something else, not anger, but a restless energy that she turned into purpose. Her entire life since she’d been called had revolved solely around her duty. Time for a change. Time for her to get a life of her own. Gathering up a few things, gum, wallet, keys, the blonde hesitated and turned to open the mini fridge freezer. Fingers caught the thin metal case she’d kept under the ice cube tray and slid it into her back pocket. All in all it was a bit bigger than a pencil case, half an inch thick, with a little clip to keep it locked.

She strode out of her room and through the dorm before it occurred to her that she hadn’t changed. It doesn’t matter. The voice in the back of her mind said, and Valerie nodded and continued onward into the night. Jeans spattered with paint, torn in places, and streaked with blood from accidents happening in patrol. After a few washes the dried crimson had turned orange, and most people chalked it up as some sort of paint or that she’d wiped pasta sauce down them. Blonde hair was hidden by the hoody, underneath it a clean t-shirt sported the same kind of artistic abuse as her jeans.

Legs might have been short but they carried her at a fast pace, and within half an hour she’d managed to walk straight to Brian’s apartment building. Valerie tilted her head back to take a good look at it, street lights casting it in a pale glow that seemed to emphasize how old it was. Small chips and cracks could be seen, the faintest hints of moss clung in sparse patches further up, and she splayed a palm against the bricks to feel the rough texture. Old, but oddly beautiful. Both hands lifted then to push the hood down as the blonde took in a slow breath and checked her watch. Nine at night wasn’t that late to show up unannounced, was it? Only then did she realise he might not even be in. Why hadn’t she called? Oh, right, fear.

Shaking herself out of it, Valerie gathered herself as best she could and knocked three times on Brian’s door. If he didn’t answer at least she’d followed through on her impulse, and that was better than nothing.

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[valerie_vause]

Valerie’s hand gave an involuntary squeeze to his thigh the moment his hand ventured under her shirt. Lungs took in several shallow breaths as his thumb played along her ribs. A subtle arch of back granted more contact, though not nearly enough. The blonde felt restless, writhing under Brian as if needing to shed skin. Needing to shed something, at least. Wherever this was taking them she knew the path wouldn’t lead there tonight. They were discovering each other, finding ways to be intimate without the added pressure of expectations.

“Tell me the one about the heart?” It seemed fitting to ask considering he could feel the erratic beating of her own. Brian’s hand was soft, warm and dry. Such a stark contrast to when they’d been in the planetarium. She shifted then, pressed hands against his shoulders and pushed lightly so she could sit up. “Sorry…” Valerie murmured as her hands went to the hem of her shirt, “But this has to go.” She tugged it off and tossed it onto the table just to wrap her arms around him and lower back to the couch. Several scars interrupted the otherwise pale skin, some faint and barely noticeable, others vivid, red and angry.

Much like the one on her left shoulder which resembled a vicious animal bite, too pointy for a vampire. “So I can feel your skin against mine.” The blonde stated coyly, she wasn’t exposed but it was enough to feel the tickle of his hair against her stomach. Like she could breathe again. Hips raised, then shifted as she hooked an ankle around his leg and let her hand wander between them to find its place against his thigh.

[brian_campo]

‘No complaints here’. He tried not to gawk as the shirt became a thing of the past. Tried and failed miserably, because she had a knockout figure, the extent of which she often hid beneath t-shirts and sweaters and hoodies. But it was there, now, staring him in the face.

Brian shifted onto his hip and lay alongside her. He cradled Valerie’s head in his arm and tangled his fingers in the long, silky strands of her hair. He kept on exploring her chest and stomach, drawing shapes on velvety skin that rose and fell as she breathed, and while there wasn’t anything overtly sexual about the way he touched her, it was impossible to subtract sex from the equation when Valerie stripped down to a bra.

He mapped the topography of ropy, pink scars.

“It’s for my dad,” he said. “It’s kind of stupid. When he died, it felt like… like my heart wasn’t in my chest anymore. Maybe I didn’t want it to be.” He rested his head next to hers. “Later on, I guess I tried to give myself a new one.” He let his fingers roam over the sharp lines of her hipbones.

[valerie_vause]

No amount of willpower could stop the nuzzle she administered to his shoulder when he changed position, her ear rested against his bicep and for a moment she forgot what she was. In his arms she felt normal. A little weak, mostly in the knees, but that was merely the attraction talking. Every now and then the gentle brush of Brian’s fingertips caused a stuttered exhale of breath, a barely restrained giggle, as her skin responded. Valerie returned the favour, walked feather light fingers down his neck, across his chest, swirling patterns of nothingness.

As the story behind the ink was told Valerie searched his features. She brushed some of his hair off his forehead then caressed his cheek. It was gentle fingers that guided his chin up so she could look him in the eye as she whispered, “That is not stupid. It’s profoundly sweet, and tragic, and came from love.” She dropped her hand to trace the ink but kept her gaze on Brian. “Don’t ever cheapen it by thinking it’s anything less than beautiful.”

Was it luck or was it fate that this tall, gentle souled, musician was now her boyfriend? Valerie couldn’t decide, but she did know without the shadow of a doubt, that she’d been waiting to meet him her entire life. The thought was quickly followed by a much darker one. If anything, or anyone, ever tried to hurt him… No power on earth would stop the blonde from destroying them.

[brian_campo]

He nodded. He wasn’t sure what to think. He couldn’t square his emotions for his dad with his mom’s harsh criticisms of the man, whom he idealized for the same reasons she divorced him: a daydreamer with more ideas than finished projects, a cosmic view of life that didn’t lend itself to the practical needs of a family. But a good heart. A better heart than hers.

He took her hand and led it to a smaller tattoo of an umbrella inside his elbow. “This is for my sister,” he said. “She’s my half-sister. Her name’s Angela. She’s seven. She’s back home with my mom.” The umbrella was a symbol of what he wanted to be for her. He didn’t bother explaining the arm band because he couldn’t remember why he got it. It was one of those impulse decisions when he was drinking and the tattoo artist didn’t care as long as he got paid.

“How’d you get this one?” he asked, indicating a fading slash of pink near the underside of her breast. Brian wondered if the nerve endings were numb. He ran his thumb up and down the mark. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his mouth and softly kissed the swell of her breast above the cloth.

The backs of his fingers slipped slow and easy from Valerie's ribs to the curve of her hip, where he clutched her through the jeans. His fingers squeezed her belt to expend energy without subjecting her to it.

[valerie_vause]

Gentle pressure was used to trace the umbrella as Brian shared more of himself. Valerie’s gaze flicked between the tattoo and his face as she listened, unable to stop the small smile. She got the symbolism instantly, he wanted to protect his little sister, for some reason that made her heart swell. Lifting her hand away from his elbow the blonde traced his lower lip with a feather light touch as he asked a question of his own. “Hm?” The noise was curious as she gazed at the scar he meant and she sighed. The sound wasn’t sad, or upset, or even heavy. Simply an exhale of breath as she remembered the night she got it.

“Sword fight with a demon.” The blonde cast her eyes up at the ceiling, every stroke of his thumb against the scar could be felt, the muscles underneath twitched in response. “You’d be surprised how many like to use weapons. If I hadn’t twisted when I leaned back… Agility helps.” She shrugged then, why state the obvious, he’d have stabbed her and the chances of her walking away would have been a heck of alot slimmer.

Valerie, though not normally self-conscious, felt a twinge of it because of the marks that remained. She wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed, she just wasn’t entirely sure she wore them nearly as well as he did the ink on his skin. Admittedly, that twinge faded when his lips pressed against her warm flesh and she tensed and relaxed restlessly under his wandering fingers. Brian’s hand on her hip felt strong, confident, the exact opposite of how it rendered her and yet how wonderful it was to be held like that.

Dark strands of hair found themselves twined through Valerie’s fingers as she watched him. The lightest of tugs given before questing fingers sought out the shell of his ear, traced it between index finger and thumb, then stroked the lobe tenderly. “Anything else you want to know?”

[brian_campo]

Swords. News of what she did got heavier all the time. This time, not just a crude weapon and a fanged monster, but a thinking creature, out to destroy and not simply kill for food. He couldn’t change any of it and Valerie wouldn’t want him to try, so he made up his mind to try and make any minute of her life that was in his span of control sweeter. Safer. He didn’t know what he would do if she disappeared for a while, stopped calling back. Go out of his mind worrying, he guessed.

“Yeah,” he said, looking up with heavy-lidded eyes. “Lots of things.” His hand migrated past her hip and into her back pocket. He hooked his thumb over it and left it to rest there, comfortable but possessive, too. “What’s your middle name? When’s your birthday? Do you hate nicknames?” He kissed the soft flesh behind her earlobe. Her hair smelled like shampoo and perfume. By now his hormones had calmed down, but the floral scent still did things to his stomach.

[valerie_vause]

The blonde braced herself for what she expected to be tough questions only to laugh when she heard them. Alright, they weren’t bad at all, funny really. Valerie shifted to get comfortable and rolled them around in her mind. “I don’t have one.” She said with a crooked grin, “But my last name is Vause. What’s yours?” Maybe that information should have been swapped before saliva but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. At least they were swapping it now.

“The twenty-eighth of November, Sagittarius if you were curious about zodiac signs.” Valerie attempted a shrug then smiled bemused. “I’ve never had a nickname so I can’t hate them. You know, of all the questions you could have asked, these were not what I thought you’d pick.” The blonde wasn’t complaining, either, she was just amused enough to let him know what was on her mind.

[brian_campo]

Brian had met a few people without middle names before. He always wondered if the required middle initial box on forms ticked them off. He’d never heard the name Vause before and immediately wanted to look up what it meant.

“Well I’m not gonna ask how much you weigh,” he joked back. He reached up and took a throw pillow from the line of them on the back of his couch. He dropped it on Valerie’s head and attempted to take advantage of the visual obstruction by stuffing his fingers into the front pocket of her jeans, where there was a ticklish spot in the juncture of leg and hip. The bonus was that he got his hand pretty well lodged in there. Even people who weren’t that ticklish often kicked like crazy for that one.

His fingers dug in.

“My last name’s Campo, my middle name’s David, my favorite color is blue, my favorite food is spaghetti… Want me to keep going?”