Night's Omen

The old saying 'Working hard or hardly working' came to mind as Melissa slipped out of her office at the Single Earth New York center, but even the nicest, most devoted people needed a break.  She wouldn't go so far as to say that SHE was the nicest or most devoted, so she figured she was definitely owed a few minutes to herself to go grab a soda and some fresh air.  Locking the office door behind her would have to be enough indication to anyone who needed her that she was avoiding cabin fever.

It wasn't like she really got emergencies, anyway, so getting out for a little while couldn't hurt.  Maybe she'd run into someone interesting?  Around Single Earth, one could never tell, though she sometimes got tired of the shiny love and puking rainbows around the place.  She didn't LIKE it when she got the really damaged people in her office, but at least it was a shot of the real world, instead of all that lovey dovey crap.  Not that she didn't WISH that the world was all sunshine and puppy dogs, but there was always the fact that sunshine casts shadows, and puppies grew up to have teeth.  The world wasn't nearly as happy as the hippies wanted to believe it was.

That was part of her job, knowing that the world wasn't kittens and pillow fights.  She was okay with that.  So long as she got her Dr. Pepper breaks.

Michael was actually running an errand for Matthew Smoke, much to his dismay, as the clever witch had somehow conned him into it in order to avoid being further teased for his crush on one of the girls at the center - nevermind that the girl was a vampire. He almost snickered to himself as he approached the office door, and straightened back out. His reputation for being a very laid-back, crotchety old vampire was at stake here, he shouldn't appear at someone's door with a fond smile on his face.

He rose his hand and tapped on the door gently. "Excuse me, Ms Arthur. I don't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to let you know I was dropping this file by care of Matthew Smoke. He's busy chasing his lady friend around and thought well enough of me to send me to do his bidding." Michael bowed at the door, and turned on a heel. His voice was almost a chuckle, though - almost. He could smell the shifter through the other side, but he couldn't place her kind. He knew women, however, and a closed door meant 'privacy - NOW', so he didn't want to pander to her through the wood about things she didn't care to hear.

After grabbing her soda and a minute or so of fresh air, Melissa had returned to her office and shut the door for a few minutes of reading with Dr. Pepper.  Naturally, that meant someone had to knock on the door a few minutes into the chapter, though she really couldn't say she minded.  She liked people, and she recognized the voice as someone interesting, even if she didn't know him well.  She knew Matt, though.

"One second!" she called out, shoving her book to the side to go open the door for him, smiling apologetically.  "Sorry about that, I was trying to steal a break while nobody was looking, but Matt said he'd be bringing a file down.  I didn't know he was going to trick someone else into doing it for him, though."

Then, something he'd said stuck in her mind, and her smile turned a little more interested.  "Really, a lady friend?  Can you spare a few minutes to give me all the information?  I may have to tease him about it later."

Michael turned, his brows raised in an amused sort of manner at how she'd sprang out of her office, and then asked for ammunition on his dear Smoke counterpart. "Why, of course," he said deviously, walking back to her in that slow gait he had. Michael was never in a hurry - and if he was, you probably want to be hurrying, too.

"Ms Arthur," he said, a very slight bow. Michael was still somewhat old fashioned, it seemed, with women. He wasn't used to them. Melanie was one of the only consistent females in his life, and he wanted to throttle her more often then not, what with her hiding alarm clocks in his room and calling him 'Sunshine' to irritate him.

"And yes, the little git conned me into coming down here. I don't even remember his reason now, I think he said that he had an appointment and couldn't make it - and then I saw movie tickets on his desk." He followed her back to her office, speaking as he walked. "When I was about to leave, I saw Melanie going towards his office - you know, the brunette vampire there?"

He snickered. "I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one who antagonizes him."

"Please, it's Melissa," she told him, waving off the bow to offer up a handshake instead.  He may have been old-fashioned, but she was NOT.  "If you're going to be offering up such valuable information as that, there's no need to be on such a formal basis.  Michael Light, am I correct?"

"Yes, I know of Melanie, and you're definitely not the only one.  He deserves a little antagonism sometimes, and there's no better way of doing it than to tease him about a giiirl," she said, putting the teasing sing-song emphasis on the last word like a pre-teen would.  She'd be teasing Matt mercilessly to his face, but she was also fond of much less...direct methods, as well.  "Please, come in.  I think this deserves more than the usual level of teasing."

Hmm, but what?  They could hang paper hearts from the ceiling of his office with Melanie's name on them.  That'd be fun for him to find when coming in one morning.  "He sounds like he's trying to hide it, which only makes it that much more fun.  Really, calling a movie date an appointment?"

"Knowing Matt," he answered, following her inside the office, "he really was referring to it as an appointment." He sat down in a comfortable chair across from her desk, and looked around idly. "Valentine's Day is coming up. I'd considered filling a bunch of balloons with confetti, then leaving them all over his office. I'm sure he'd be ambitious enough to pop them without realizing what was in them," he said with a mischievous chuckle.

"And yes, I'm Michael Light. You're the first person whose said my last name without some sort of haunting realization behind it. I'd forgotten why I preferred the company of cats to witches, lately," he said with a bit of a smile.

"Well, Melissa, what do you think? Streamers from the ceiling? Candy hearts in his coffee?"

Michael looked down and jumped as the cell phone that Matthew had thrust upon him began ringing. He fished it out of his pocket after what seemed like an eternity, but by the time he'd gotten to it, it'd gone to voicemail.

"Well, hell," he spat. "I hate this thing. It never rings unless I'm doing something."

She'd heard the stories about the Light witches, and a bit here and there specifically about Michael, but she wasn't about to comment on it.  "It's my job not to make a big deal out of traumatic events, Michael, and it's my pleasure to make people prefer the company of cats to witches," she told him, a smile slipping its way into her features once more as she spoke.  She was honest, not holding much back, but she was playful as well.  No sense in lying to a vampire who could probably read her thoughts anyway, and why not put him at ease?  That was as much a part of her job as it was a part of her personality, and she preferred it.

"I like the way you think.  I was thinking of hanging hearts with Melanie's name from the ceiling, to be honest, but the candy hearts in his coffee is easily just as good.  Do you really think that he'd pop a bunch of balloons filled with conf--"  She halted rather suddenly as his phone went off, a rather comical sight in itself.  He seemed so startled by it that it HAD to be a new addition to his general surroundings, which was only more amusing.  He seemed so modern in some ways, but then there were others that were obviously quite the opposite, such as the case with the phone.

"I actually think that most phones are like that.  Hopefully it wasn't anything pressing?" she offered, not wanting to keep him if it was, but more than willing to go on plotting if it wasn't.

Michael blinked a little as she spoke to him. He wondered if that was what Matt felt like when Melanie said cute things, and looked back down at his phone, focusing all of his bewilderment to the gadget. "Okay... " he trailed off. He looked up at her after a few seconds. "How do I check my voicemail?" he asked, a lilt of confusion at the end of his deep voice.

When she inevitably stepped forward, he held it out to her like it was a wet tissue - by the antennae, which slid open, dropping the phone down and suspending it by said device.

"They insisted I have one. Half the time I forget it somewhere, and the other half it scares the daylights out of me!" he protested as he received an exasperated glance. "I'm a vampire, why should I have a cell phone? Would you?" he asked, trying to make himself seem less.. old-fashioned. And failing.

She blinked at him for a moment when he asked how to check his voicemail, wondering for an instant if he was just teasing her, and just as quickly realized that he wasn't.  This was absolutely priceless, especially with the way he held it out to her by the antennae only to have it slide open and drop the phone.  He looked so confused that she had to laugh a little, the sound much more like a giggle than she'd have dared admit.  She hated seeming like a giggly stereotypical blond, but this deserved a laugh.

"I actually like my phone, but then, I can't read minds, so I guess we're even," she told him, taking the device from him and immediately beginning to examine it.  Most phones were different, but the basics were the same.  Sadly for him, she had it ringing into the voicemail within a minute, and was handing it back to him.

She hoped the ones who'd insisted he have one hadn't also insisted that he put a code on the voicemail.  That'd be...unfortunate for figuring out what the caller had to say, although it'd be amusing.  She was definitely going to have to spend more time with Michael in the future.  She liked him.

"Well, now I don't think --"

She thrust the phone back to him, and he heard a voice say 'accessing voicemail'. It was feminine, and British, and it confused him. He managed to hit speakerphone before it began playing, much to his surprise - obvious by his facial expression of startled, wide eyes.

"Mr. Light, this is the new administrative assistant speaking-- Jacob. I will explain more once we have converged, but I must request that you report to the following address if at all possible, or call me as soon as you can if you are unable to show. It is in Queens, in Greenpoint, and the address is 144 Vancouver Street, Apartment 8A -- and the residents are possibly in need of protection. We need someone to stand watch. Immediately, please. Thank you."

He frowned. "Blast! Why does everyone call me when they want muscle?" He looked up at Melissa. "Am I hulking or imposing to you in any way, madame? Do I make you fear for your future existance? No? Exactly." Michael had himself believing, at this point, that he was nothing more than a weak vampire who hung around Single Earth because his own family line was dead. It was true, except.. the Light blood coursing through Michael's veins was still very real, and it made him the opposite of weak. It was his stability that he clung to, the familiarity of being a stuffy, old-fashioned gentleman. It drove away the memories of what his real power tasted like.

Right now, he was coming off more like a frustrated pratt than any sort of Witch, vampire, or combination of the two. He sighed heavily. "I apologize, Melissa, but it seems like I am needed." He stood up straight and snapped his jacket, imitating a super hero. He turned his chin upright and gave a final sigh of protest. The thought had occurred to him to ask if she'd like to come along, but... no, she wouldn't be interested in something like that.

Obviously, her input wasn't really necessary for his little rant after the message played itself out, but she wasn't really all that concerned with what he was going on about.  From what she'd heard, she had every ounce of faith in his abilities, but that wasn't the point.  Jacob, who was about as old as they came in Single Earth, was calling for help.  That warranted some attention.

Even as he was standing up to head out, all dramatic and in a manner that usually would have made her laugh, she was standing and grabbing her coat as well.  "Michael, no apologies are necessary, because I'm coming with you," she told him firmly, catching his eyes with her own blue and making it clear that she wasn't accepting a 'no'.  Him going alone, powerful or not, was just asking for trouble.

"Jacob's old, so if he's asking for help, it has to be something big, and I'd feel more comfortable if I knew you weren't out there dealing with it alone.  I might not be a whole lot of help, but I am a cougar, so I can look intimidating enough, and I'd make a good distraction," she explained.  She knew her uses, and she wasn't about to delude herself.  If there were two of them, that was attention that had to be split by an attacker, and she could do some damage if he chose to focus on Michael.  If whoever it was chose to focus on HER, Michael could do even more.

Egh, Michael hadn't even begun to think of the age gap. He just stared at Melissa as she picked up her coat and started walking for the door. "I won't tell you no, because I feel it won't end well for me, but... Oh, fine. I wonder if we can get some back story when we get there so we know precisely who we're protecting and, for that matter, why," he said, pulling his coat close to himself as he held the door open for Melissa.

"What do you think it could possibly be? And did you ever notice how people down on how we might not be as 'by the book' as other SE people are, but then when someone needs help, whose phone rings?" he asked, looking pointedly at her. "I think if, under the bottom of the motto, they scrawled, 'Some of us might still kick your face in', we'd have less problems."

Good, all those years had obviously made him smart enough not to argue with her about this, which was for the best.  It saved time, since she wasn't going to listen.  "More information would be nice, I'll admit, but I guess Jacob holds you in such high esteem that he doesn't think you need it," she offered up with a wink, locking the door behind them with a short 'thanks' at his holding the door open for her.  Had to give it to the vamps; most of them were gentlemen, so long as they didn't want to kidnap you and make you into a blithering idiot for their own amusement. 

"Oh, believe me, I've noticed.  I get a lot less calls like that than you do, but I've ended up at a few houses where things got a little 'out of control' and the girls already there couldn't handle it.  I think the higher-ups should take your edit into consideration," she agreed easily, fully meaning it.  She disliked that Single Earth had such a wimpy reputation, and hated it even more when she met the people who were the cause of that reputation. 

Michael was a welcome change.

Michael hailed a Taxi as they walked outside the building and into the main area of the street. He opened the door for Melissa, and then slid in after her, giving the cabbie the address. He turned to Melissa. "I know what you mean," he said, surveying the scenery around them as they pulled into traffic. "It's just as well, though. Usually packs a bit more of a punch when they didn't see us coming," he acknowledged, knowing full and well that most people who toyed with Single Earth didn't expect anyone to actually fight back.

He'd never seen Matthew Smoke throw a punch, but he had seen Riese do it, and he had to admit, the boy wasn't half bad. "Not everyone is as nice as they want you to believe," he mumbled to himself, shaking his head a little. He settled next to the blonde and seemed content to stare out the window and have polite conversation for the remainder of the ride.

"Point," she granted, nodding her agreement to his statement about it packing a punch.  The element of surprise helped, since most of the organization really WASN'T all that aggressive.  Fortunately, they weren't entirely useless either, though.

Actually, he had another good point to follow up the first, and she nodded, fully understanding what he meant.  She'd run into plenty of people who fit that bill, including herself.  She sometimes wished she was as nice as some of the other people she worked with, but then, something like this happened, and she was glad she could help because she wasn't that nice. 

There was no way of having the best of both worlds, and she'd rather survive.  She'd do what she could to help people along the way, and if she had to sacrifice 'nice' for helping the people who needed her, then so be it. 

Of course, none of that was going to end up in her smalltalk for the ride.