Work Text:
Night School
by Lucinda
Jeanette frowned at the woman who had just entered the Raven. She was blond, dressed in something bright and colorful, and everything about her appearance proclaimed her to be a slave of fashion and addicted to suntans. There was just something that didn't quite seem right, and she couldn't place what it was. With a small shake of her head, she decided to keep an eye on the woman, maybe it would become apparent later.
The woman was drinking beers, and a circle of young men were gathering around her, clearly seeing her as attractive but not too bright, the sort who would get drunk and go home with the nearest charming face. She had seen the type for centuries, and so often, they ended up the unspoken victims of the world, used and abandoned, never finding people who would really care, and eventually coming to believe that nobody ever would. Centuries ago, she would have felt very sorry for the woman, but now, she understood that the woman should hold some responsibility for what happened to her as well. She didn't have to spend her evenings in clubs, drinking beer after beer.
Eventually, the woman rose from her table, giggling as she wobbled, and left the building, leaning on one of the young men, a particularly obnoxious lout. Jeanette could see no redeeming features to the man, and wondered just how many beers the blond had actually drank.
Something seemed wrong as they walked out the door. She couldn't quite describe it - was it the way the blond moved? Something wrong in the reflection on the inside of the window? It didn't matter, she decided that she would follow and figure it out. Glancing at her child, she murmured, "Watch the bar, would you?
Jeanette frowned as she took tot eh air. Considering that the blond was supposedly drunk, she seemed to be walking in a rather straight path. The man pulled her against the alley wall, kissing her with the single minded intensity of a man who had no intention of stopping as his hands fumbled at the blonde's blouse.
By the time Jeanette had landed in the alley, the blond had fangs deep in the man's throat, and he was making little whimpering noises as she drank.
"Maybe there is a reason for all the beer after all." Jeanette murmured, smiling just a little. Perhaps the woman wasn't quite the sad victim of society and stupidity after all. But this woman wasn't one of the regulars, and if this was what she normally did... Had anyone explained the rules to her? Did she know how to avoid the unwelcome attentions of the enforcers?
"You were in the bar." The blond spoke, staring at Jeanette as she let the lout's body fall to the ground. Her forehead was distorted into a ridge, and her eyes were a pale golden. Clearly, she was from a different bloodline than Jeanette's.
"Of course. I own it, after all." Jeanette replied with a shrug. "You will not be able to hunt like that all the time, not in this city."
"Why not?" The blond replied, not sounding even a little drunk, but definitely confused. "The Slayer's in California, not Toronto."
"The Slayer? Is that all that you were ever told to look out for?" Jeanette moved closer, frowning as she realized just how young the blond vampire actually was. Not simply how young she looked, but how young she felt - there was probably very little difference. "You haven't been taught anything, have you?"
"Avoid sunshine and crosses, holy water burns, don't kidnap the Slayer's sister, and my blondie-bear doesn't love me." The blond sniffled, and pulled out a tube of lipstick, recoloring her lips. "And I need an invitation and don't reflect, which makes it really hard to get my make-up right."
"Nothing." Jeanette moved closer as the idea tickled. "I can teach you a few things. Things that will help you to live and prosper."
"I'm never going to get old, so..." She paused, and stepped over the body. "How long have you been around?"
"I came to this continent when these nations were still colonies." Jeanette offered, not revealing her true age or influence. "I can teach you the skills and laws that will enable you to still be around in another few centuries."
"Oh, that would be great." The blond gushed, moving closer, apparently with the intention of giving Jeanette a hug. As she flung her arms around Jeanette and squeezed, she said, "I'm Harmony, and I'll be the best student that you've ever had. Maybe you can take me to Paris, and show me how things go there? Is there some sort of secret vampire club or something? A guidebook?"
As Harmony continued to chatter, Jeanette almost changed her mind. But no, if anyone needed someone to keep them out of trouble, surely Harmony was that needy person. "I am Jeanette, and you should let go now."
"Oh, of course. So, have you ever been to Paris? I mean, you sound sort of French, and I'd love to learn that accent, it sounds really neat, and you have a gorgeous dress, and..."
Jeanette was regretting this already.
end Night School.