100% Freshie Chapter 5 --PG-13

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librarian_7
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100% Freshie Chapter 5 --PG-13

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Disclaimer: The characters from Moonlight are copyrighted by CBS, and no infringement is intended.

Special note: This work takes place in the world of Moonlight, but your favorite vamps are not the main focus. Sorry about that; try to enjoy the story anyway. You might be surprised.


100% Freshie

Chapter 5

Will looked down thoughtfully at the girl asleep in his arms, her head tucked into the crook of his elbow, and ran one finger very lightly over her lower lip, and down to caress, oh so gently, the healing puncture wounds he’d left on her pale throat. She stirred slightly in her sleep, turning her face toward his chest, as though to offer her vein to him again. Will had what he liked to think of as the—grace—to find this vaguely troubling, the knowledge that her seduction was so complete. Perhaps, he thought bleakly, he should stay away from the unbitten in future. Perhaps it would be better to choose his prey from the girls, the willing, waiting girls outside the clubs. The ones who knew what was required, and expected nothing more. The ones who lived for the next time they could call forth the silver-eyed beast from its hiding place within, and feel they’d tamed it with the blood that ran so passionately through their veins. He pulled his thumb and fingers over the corners of his mouth, sensing rather than feeling the last lingering carmine dampness of her blood there, the pressure of his hand against his lips and teeth recalling a faint echo of the sensation of her neck under his fangs. The scent of her lingered in his nostrils, the sweet copper tang underlaid with traces of the Texas sun and verdure and wind that had shaped her into what she had become.

He sighed silently to himself. It was tempting to taste her again, tempting to simply lift her wrist to his lips, and drink again. He was still thirsty; he had denied himself too long in anticipation of this first encounter with Danger, knowing how much sweeter her surrender would be if his need was intense. A smile curved his lips softly. It had been sweet, very sweet, and he looked forward to knowing the feel of her blood in his mouth again, and again. But if he drank now, it might be too much, too soon. He had few deep regrets, from this strange unnatural life that had been given to him, but those few cut deeper than he usually cared to remember. It was only at times like this that he brought out some of the memories, and allowed them to slash at him again, let the blood flow softly from his soul into the night.


San Francisco, 1967


Will leaned casually against a wall, glancing up at the street sign on the corner. Haight Ashbury. According to the press, this was the center of the known universe right now, or at least of the United States. Sure, there were more people streaming by in this early evening than he’d seen since last New Year’s Eve in Times Square, and the smell of so much mortal skin and blood was intoxicating, but mostly what he was seeing were a mass of young people, most of them high on God know what, milling around aimlessly. He tugged at the collar of his black linen Nehru jacket impatiently. At least the summer nights by the Bay were cool. He was getting thirsty, but tainted blood was of little interest. Where were all those “high on life” free and easy hippie chicks he kept reading about in the magazines? He sighed. Back in New York, he’d known the best freshie clubs, he’d known the Greenwich Village jazz club scene, there was never a shortage of blood, never a shortage of girls ready for the experience he had to offer them. He had a list of club addresses in his jacket pocket, but he’d thought, being new in town, tonight would be a good time to get a little local color in his veins. So far, though, so far the evening had been a total waste of time.

He sighed and drew in a long breath. There had to be some decent blood in this town somewhere. That was when he caught the first trace of her scent on the swirling evening breeze, like the ozone whiff of a distant thunderstorm, more the potential of rain than rain itself. He closed his eyes and pulled in another breath, concentrating on isolating that one unique aroma, that mixture of blood and woman and all the myriad things that combined to create it.

Later, Will wondered to himself whether he’d have been so entranced if he’d seen her first, before he caught her smell like an omen on the wind. He found himself drawn into the crowd, tracking it, tracking her, walking for several blocks past dancers and street performers, pushers and those simply out to enjoy the evening and the zeitgeist, the sense that the world was a vastly different place than they had thought. Even in the midst of his pursuit of that elusive scent, Will reflected that the world was stranger than these tie-dyed flower children with their bloodless dreams of peace could imagine. But all that was beside the point. He was getting close.

Firefly, who had started life as Mary Celeste Myers back in Kansas, shifted the worn knapsack on her shoulder and wondered what the chances were of finding a safe place to crash that night. It had taken her five days to hitch from Santa Fe to San Francisco, and she was beyond tired. She thought ruefully that perhaps believing the pretty boy who had told her to meet him at the corner of Haight and Ashbury had been a little impulsive. There were hundreds of people congregating in the streets, and she knew no one. Then again, she hadn’t known anyone when she got to Santa Fe, either, and that had worked out all right. If she sensed a shadow circling her, and she did, vaguely, she put it down to fatigue, and the general strangeness of her surroundings. Then he was standing in front of her, the crowd parting around him like a river flowing around a rock, and staring at her like a blind man suddenly given sight. A shiver swept over her.

For his part, Will saw before him a tall, slender young woman, her long dark hair sweeping down from a center part to frame a face dominated by large, warm brown eyes and a generous mouth that seemed ready to laugh at the world around her. She wore faded jeans tucked into boots, and a faded purple Indian cotton blouse under a slightly grimy tan suede fringed jacket. Will still clung to a preference for skirts on his women, and this one was by no means the petite, classical beauty that most often attracted his attention. Still, he knew more strongly with each indrawn breath that she had to be his, that she would play a larger part in his life than he could understand now. The last time he’d felt this way was when he’d met Serena, but this girl standing in front of him was no vampire. His senses told him that she was human, that she was vibrantly, completely, overwhelmingly alive.

Since he’d been turned, he’d been meeting women, seducing them, for almost 45 years, and right now, all the practiced lies deserted him. He could only look mutely into her eyes and try to put all his longing, his loneliness, and the rising heat of his passion into his own gaze.

Firefly smiled at the young man in black standing before her. She’d always been a sucker for the pretty boys, and this long-haired blond was one of the most enticing she’d ever seen. And she supposed a chance encounter on a city street could be karma, but then again it could just be what it seemed, chance. She stepped forward to go around him, since he didn’t appear to be moving out of the way. She never saw him move, but somehow he’d laid a restraining hand lightly on her arm.

“Wait,” he said, his tone low and oddly compelling, “tell me your name.”

She looked down at the pale hand against the suede of her jacket, and slowly back up to his eyes. They reminded her of the turquoise in the pendant she wore around her neck. She smiled at him again. “Firefly,” she said. “My name is Firefly.”

That night they sat up together in the park, talking until the dawn.


Los Angeles, 2008

Will remained lost in thought and time until Danni stirred in his arms and woke, smiling into his eyes with a perfect trust that lacerated his heart. He smiled back, but there was such sadness behind it that a shadow crept across Danni’s mind. She felt so safe, so relaxed, so natural, in Will’s arms, as happy as she had ever been. He lifted a hand to brush the hair back from her forehead, and she caught it in her hand, pulling it to her mouth for a soft kiss. He indulged her gesture, recognizing the affection that prompted it, and savoring the slight twinge of feeling in his fangs.

Danger was another freshie now, and what was another freshie to him? Nothing. Everything. Somewhere in between.

“I need to go, sweetheart,” he said softly. “There are some things you need to know—Emma and Hunter will explain, okay?”

Danni nodded. “I’ll see you again, right?” She sat up, feeling a little dizzy from the blood loss, but steadied by Wills hand.

“You can count on it, Danger.” Will placed a last kiss on her lips, stood and walked out without looking back. He’d had enough of looking back for one night.
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francis
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Re: 100% Freshie Chapter 5 --PG-13

Post by francis »

Will is having second thoughts because she is so far under, and that makes me like him. I wasn’t sure at first what kind of person he would be. I love your take on what made him this man he is now. I love this flashback story.
Will is a connaisseur of blood, and doesn’t feed on just anybody. Does Danni remind him of Firefly, maybe? Is the hippie culture probably the first time freshies used pet names, or was that earlier?
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allegrita
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Re: 100% Freshie Chapter 5 --PG-13

Post by allegrita »

Hmmm...Will is looking back with regret. And as of yet, we don't yet know why. I hope we find out more about Firefly. And I do worry a bit about Danni. She certainly seems to be comfortable with the idea of becoming a freshie, but one can't really know what that mans till one's doing it. Plus, she's got a major crush on Will--and that can't be a good thing in the long run, can it?
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