Author's note: This story was written for Champagne Challenge #156. When the Challenge first came out, I got an idea for a Mick POV story. But when I finally sat down and began to type, it was immediately taken over by someone else. I guess he had something to say.
When Moonlight characters talk to me, I try to take dictation as well as I can. 
But sometimes I don't get it quite right, and this story had a few rough spots. I'm indebted to Lilly for her amazing ear for the rhythm and flow of our beloved Moonlight characters' speech patterns, and for her invaluable advice. Rated PG.
(Quote from the episode “Fated to Pretend” written by Gabrielle Stanton and Harry Werksman.)
Overtime
For most people, time is a precious commodity. Moments are fleeting. Opportunities are easily lost. The clock keeps ticking. Still, it only takes five minutes to change everything.
It’s worse for the mortal ones than for us. They scurry from one thing to another—trying to fit it all into the fourscore and ten or so they’ve been allotted. They’re working overtime from the moment they’re born—and the clock ticks faster and faster, the older they get.
That sense of urgency is one of the human traits Mick couldn’t seem to shake. He wanted so much to stay in that race to oblivion. He never quite got it that there was no hurry anymore. And after Beth came back into the picture, it got worse. Much worse. Fools rush in, and Mick was a fool in love. A fool who didn’t think he was worthy of being loved. By a human girl, no less! Granted, she definitely had potential. But he refused to even contemplate the prospect of bringing her into our world. With his guilt complex, falling in love with a human is a lousy idea, I kept telling him. But Mick is nothing if not stubborn. So this mismatched pair got themselves into scrape after scrape, mostly out of carelessness and haste. Human failings. Unacceptable mistakes. And who got to clean up the mess? You guessed it.
Then Coraline showed up. That woman has caused Mick nothing but grief from the moment they met—his own personal express train to hell. And what does he do? Jumps in with both feet, thinking she’s his ticket back to the mortal coil. But even if the cure had been permanent, what did he think the ex would do, stand around and let him live happily ever after with Beth? Escape her clutches by dying of old age? Not the Coraline I know.
Not that it was even an option. There is no permanent cure, just that masquerade in a jar. Handy for the Ancien Régime trying to hide from a mob of pissed-off peasants, but not exactly a lifestyle choice. I tried to explain that to him, but Mick’s got the selective deafness thing down to an art form. Even I couldn’t steer him away—and believe me, I gave it my best shot. There was no way he’d let it go, even after Beth nearly killed Coraline with that stake. Damn shame… just an inch or so to the left, and that problem would have been solved for good. But as usual, Coraline landed on her feet. And I was distracted by the mess Whitley had made of my life, not to mention my office. So I wasn’t there to protect him. Not that it would’ve done much good, anyway. Mick was determined to be human, and Coraline was happy to oblige.
I don’t know what her motive was for giving him the cure. Maybe she thought she could run away with him and play house somewhere warm and sunny for a few years, till they ran out of the compound. I bet it was a helluva blow to her ego when Mick wouldn’t go with her. But at that point she was in a rush herself, knowing her brother was on her trail. Probably she thought she’d let him get a taste of humanity while she gave her brother the slip, and come back into town in a few weeks, dangling the compound as bait. Things didn’t work out that way, though. Big brother caught up with them, and gave Mick a painful lesson in what it means to lose that instant healing trick. Ouch.
It really shocked me, though, that she sacrificed herself to save him. I don’t pretend to understand why she did what she did that night. But the upshot was, she gave Mick back his heart’s desire, and then she wasn’t there to reap the benefits.
But then, neither was Beth. She wasted Mick’s days as a human, grieving for her dearly departed boyfriend—the one she’d stopped loving quite some time ago. And Mick, being Mick, was too much of a gentleman—or a chicken—to barge in. Dumb kids. By the time they fumbled their way back together, they’d missed their chance. Beth got herself into trouble of the fanged sort, and of course Mick forgot he’d lost his powers and was hell-bent on a rescue mission. Good thing Guillermo called me tonight. When I got to Mick’s place there he was, the heroic vampire hunter, brandishing a silver crossbow and a couple of stakes. As if he could get within ten feet of Beth’s kidnappers, the shape he was in.
So here we go. Those five minutes I mentioned? Maybe I’ve caught the urgency bug from Mick. Stupid, I know. But I never have been entirely rational where Mick was concerned. He asked me to take away the thing he’s wanted more than anything for the past sixty-five years. And damn him, he called me brother. What the hell was I supposed to do?
Five minutes. The time it takes to drain your best friend and pray to all the gods you’ve ever heard of that you haven’t blown it. Five minutes to give him back the gift of immortality he’s finally asked for. Even if it was for all the wrong reasons, at least he made the choice this time. A second chance to be a vampire, on his own terms.
If he wakes up.
Come on, Mick. Rise and shine.
All that analysis from our seemingly unshakeable mentor, Josef. While he waits for his new fledgeling. Brilliantly done lovely. Just wonderful. Thank you! 
It's rare that Josef talks to me, but man, he sure wanted this story to be his. To put myself in the mood of the story, I retyped that first paragraph...and maybe it was the short sentences, but I just heard Josef speaking. To be honest, I wasn't really sure where it was going, but I just started typing what I heard him saying... and somehow we ended up in Mick's apartment, watching him lying on that table and willing him to wake up. As I was writing, the whole thing felt very disjointed, almost like little jigsaw puzzle pieces. But when we finally got to the returning, somehow the pieces started to fit together. 
