Title: "The Pissing Match"
Author: EA Karras and Magnes
Email: eakarras@hotmail.com, twisted_knickers@email.com
Series: Mountie Slayer: Arc 1.5

---

Tom walked into the apartment with Fraser to the sound of dead 
silence. He glanced at the Mountie, worried. They had been out on patrol
in the cemetary, a topic of some heat with James and Ray alike. Had
something
happened while they were gone?	And where was James? 

The answer came when Ray stepped out of Adam's room. 

"You need to talk to him. Now." Ray's voice was dangerous. 

"What happened?" Tom asked, quietly, dreading the answer. 

"He started in on Cal." 

"What?	How?" 

Ray held up a warning finger.  "Listen, Gramps, Aja may be your kid and
my adopted dad and I love him to death, but Calhoun is MY retainer and
I'm sick and tired of that /kid/ using him for a doormat.  Calhoun /won't/
fight this battle, so I am.  You get him to lay off Cal or /I'm/ going
to put him over my knee." 

He stomped off.  Fraser blinked.  Tom did the same. 

"I'll talk to him," volunteered Fraser. 

*** 

Adam was sitting sullenly on his bed, glaring at his shoes when Tom came
into the bedroom. 

"We talked about this," Tom said, quietly. He sat beside his son, looking
at him. From the looks of things, he'd gotten a major scream fest out
of Ray. 

"I just wanted him to-" 

"Did you /ask/ him, or tell him?" 

"I told-" 

"Adam..." Tom sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You can't keep treating James
like this. He lives here too. He's not your personal slave." 

Adam was silent for a moment. He hated being talked to like a child.
As if he needed lessons in how to act. He did the only thing he could
do. 

He turned to Tom and glared. "I need to go to the meeting..." 

Tom took in a breath. "No." 

The boy king's eyes widened. "No?" 

"No. You were rude to James, you're angry with Ray. No. You may not go
to the meeting tonight." Tom stood up, and picked up a notebook. He handed
it to his son, quietly. "I think you should take this time to think about
how you've been acting." 

Adam stared at the notebook, frowned and suddenly hurled it at his father.

"I am not a child!" 

Tom cocked his head, pausing in the doorway.  "Oh?  You're certainly
acting like one." 

*** 

It had started out with Calhoun trying to leave. 

There was quite a large meeting going on at Warfield's tonight and
representatives
from clans throughout the east coast were going to be in attnedance.
Ray was going and he wanted Calhoun to accompany him. 

Calhoun chuckled at the notion.  "Oh, the Gangrels will /love/ that,
Ray," he said sarcasticly.  "Why not invite a few Swiss Fishies along,
too?  Hell, bring Fraser and Turnbull!	No, wait!  They might talk and
torture is illegal." 

Ray laughed out loud.  "C'mon, Cal, I don't wanna be the only prince
without a backup." 

"You're the /only/ pure Caanite prince, sire.  You don't need me there."

"I'm the youngest one there all the time!" 

"Lord Caine isn't going?" 

"Not kid young.  Dead young...not dead...ya know what I mean, ya jerk!"

Calhoun smiled, knowing full well what Ray meant.  "My prince, I'm
Autarkis
and a Sabbat.  I am not welcome there." 

"But...yer my retainer." 

He gazed at the black-haired Knight with his geeky red glasses and elegant
hands, wishing he could understand.  True, Kowalski had once been
declaired
Autarkis, but at the time the exile had meant nothing to him in his
ignorance
of vampire ways.  If Calhoun walked into that meeting tonight every clan
on the east coast would be slapped in the face. 

"That's why I can't go, Prince Kowalski."  He rose.  "I have to go speak
to my second and the Sabbat.  I don't want them upsetting the other clans
and this close to Hallowe'en they feel obligated to raise hell." 

"Yer sure?" pressed Ray. 

"Yes.  Thank-" 

"Elder!" 

Ray had been looking right at Calhoun when Aja called.	All the animation
left his handsome face, replaced by a cool, detatched mask such as Ray
Kowalski had not seen on Calhoun's face since...shit, since he was around
Lilith.  Ray did not like this.  Calhoun, a man of honor from a by-gone
day when the word meant everything in the world, had sworn alleigance
to Ray and Caine to save Tom's life two years ago.  Ray he treated with
a respect that was at once genuine and teasing, for he was plainly amused
at his predicament of being retainer to a ghoulite prince and had told
Ray.  

Lord Caine, however, the son of Adam, father of all the Caanite vampires,
was a very different matter. 

He knew better than Ray. 

He knew what Autarkis and Sabbat truely meant.	The clanless ones. 
Despised,
outcast, unworthy.  A band of rogues that walked by themselves and stood
outside the law that governed the vampires. 

Calhoun fit the description to perfection. 

Caine would not let him forget it or what he had once been. 

So he endured the jibes, the humiliation, the quiet, sneering contempt
that this ancient in a child's body cast at him.  Every time he simply
reminded himself that Tom was still alive because of this brat and quietly
did whatever task his lord set for him. 

So demanding of him.  Ray asked nothing from him. 

"Yes, my lord?" he asked automatically. 

Caine looked up at him shrewdly.  "You refused your prince?" 

"I did, my lord." 

Ray frowned.  What the hell? 

"Would you refuse me?" 

Calhoun hesitated. 

"Hey, Aja, what's that got to do with the price o' tea in China?" demanded
Ray. 

"He is a just an elder.  A retainer.  Worse yet, he is Autarkis.  He
has no right to refuse you, Raymond.  If you wish him to go, he will."

"Thanks, pops, but I'll get my own date fer the prom.  And quit droppin'
names 'cause /I/ was Autarkis, too, once upon a time." 

Calhoun smiled, and shook his head. "Yours was called in a blood hunt,
and not by a Queen or a King. It's not the same thing, Ray..." 

"Like hell," Ray turned on Aja. "Yer father told ya to stay in yer room,
didn't he?" 

Aja looked taken aback. "I-" 

"Didn't he?" 

"Yes." 

"Then go back before he comes out of his and sees ya disobeying him."

*** 

Cassie sat on her father's bed, reading her SAT guide while he went
through
his clothes for something to wear out.	He was dragging Fraser to one
of the demon bars, the very one he'd met Ray and Carrie Westfall in nearly
5 years ago.  
He couldn't wait to get the reaction out of Fraser. 

Or out of the demons. 

He pulled something out of the closet and held it up. "How about this?"

Cassie looked up, and shook her head. "No. Too blue." 

"Hmm." 

"What look are you going for?" 

"Moloch." 

She stared at his closet, reaching in the back. "This one." She 
leaned back, going back to her reading. "Adam's still being a little
bitch?" 

Tom raised his eyesbrows. "I think he's having a hard time adjusting."

"No kidding. He's had two years.  I think he expects /us/ to adjust to
/him/ sometimes.  And I want to give him his own copy of the Emancipation
Procolomation for the way he treats James." 

"He does take advantage.  That's partially James' fault." 

She rolled over on the bed, looking up at him.	"Dad, James swore an
oath of loyalty.  He's too uptight to break it.  He did it to save your
butt, remember.  He can't reneg." 

Tom stared at her.  "Who told you that?" 

"Ray and Fraser and Turnbull.  Where have you been?" 

He stared at the leather blazer he held as if seeing it for the first
time.  "I'm not exactly sure, honey." 

*** 

The Sabbat were terribly disappointed that they weren't allowed to disrupt
the meeting at Warfield's.  Calhoun shook his head and quietly threatened
anyone who disobeyed, especially since he was Prince Kowalski's retainer
and if his own clan attacked the affair, Prince Kowalski could be in
a world of trouble.  For their Elder's sake, they agreed. 

"Are you going?" questioned his second. 

Calhoun snorted.  "Lord Caine ordered it.  Unless Prince Kowalski gives
me another option, yeah, I have to." 

"No, I'm a son of a bitch straight to the core.  I just happen to have
morals." 

"I gave mine away.  Too much baggage." 

*** 

Fraser looked on in shock as Tom dragged him into the club by the  sleeve.
He had insisted Fraser dress in full Serge. Looking around he didn't
understand why. Leather. Lots of leather. Vinyl. 

Collars. 

Chains. 

Oh dear. 

He eyed Tom's choice in clothing, and suddenly felt very faint. 

He stopped in the middle of the bar area, and sat down, nearly taking
Tom down with him. The Moloch Slayer was grinning at him. "You ok?" 

"Why are we here?" 

"Cemetary patrol gets dull, Benton. What demon's gonna hunt for dead
people?" He looked around. "This is where we go for fun. Games. Other
things." 

Fraser watched as a Chaos demon waltzed past them, leading a Hienic.

"So I see..." 

Tom grinned. "What're you thinking?" 

"That I'm learning more than I ever wished to know about you?" 

Tom stuck his tongue out and grinned. "You haven't even begun to find
out," He looked over at the bar and grinned as he saw who the bartender
was. "Jack!" 

"Tom!" The bartender made his way over. "How are you?" 

"Fine. You never called." 

"I assumed you didn't want me to." 

Tom nodded, "It's just as well," he grinned. 

Jack nodded, glancing at Fraser. "Are you with him?" 

"No!" Fraser blurted out, a little too suddenly. "No, he's not..." 

Tom flashed him a look. "No, I'm with a vampire." 

"Lucky," Jack smiled, wistfully. "Which one?" 

"The Sabbat Elder." 

"No way!  Really?" 

"Yeah. Frase, I've got to....do something, will you be ok a minute."
He didn't wait for an answer, just headed off. 

*** 

Cassie knocked on her so called brother's door, lightly and entered
without
being asked in. "Adam." 

"Cassandra." 

"We need to talk." 

He looked at her patiently.  He liked her more than she liked him, but
Cassandra had trouble dealing with a two-year old that would not act
his age. 

"James is my friend.  He got me away from my grandmother and he means
everything to our dad.	You better be nicer, junior, 'cause while he
may not do anything, I sure will.  Lighten up." 

"He's just a-"

"A great guy who would probabally be up for sainthood if he weren't a
vampire for putting up like a little snot like you," she offered. "Lay
off him." 

He frowned. Perhaps he'd been wrong about her. "I don't care for you."

"The feeling is mutual, body snatcher."
  
*** 

He stopped in the bathroom, splashing water on his face. He felt....wild.
Electric. 

He hadn't thought it possible to go into heat while pregnant. Apparently
he'd been wrong.  Then again, male breeders didn't seem to follow any
rules. 

He had to go. 

He had to go NOW. Get to James. Before the demons smelled him. Before...

The Heinic at the sink next to him sniffed the air and stared at him.
There was a look in his eye that informed Tom now would be a good time
to get his butt the hell home behind locked doors so James didn't have
to kill anyone.  
"You smell goooood," was the crude flirtation. 

"Polo," Tom replied brightly, and bolted. 

*** 

Ray said his goodbyes to Dief and Cassie, not about to rub in Aja's
grounding,
grabbed his keys, and hurried down the steps and out the front doors
of the apartment building. 

He stopped in his tracks. 

Calhoun sat waiting with the Jag running. 

"Word up, Cal?" he called good-naturedly. 

The Sabbat gave that impatient look.  "Coming?" 

"Thought ya weren't," commented Ray, plopping down on the leather seat.

He shrugged.  "I can take an order." 

"What?" 

"Lord Caine.  You were there.  He said I couldn't refuse." 

"Ho!  Ho!  Hold on a second here, Cal!"  Ray was back up to a full head
of steam in less time than it took for Calhoun to pull into traffic.
"Do not do this because Aja told ya ya hafta!  No way do ya hafta come
to this stinkin' summit if ya don't want to.  Take me back, I'll drive.
You go do...vampire things." 

Calhoun chuckled at his prince's temper.  "Prince Kowalski, I'm here,
I'll go." 

"But ya don't wanna!" 

"You want me there." 

"Yer not my servant, Cal." 

"Then look at me as back up."  He glanced at Kowalski with his spikey
black hair and sun glasses and smiled.	"At least this way I'll get to
piss off every clan on the east coast." 

Ray sat back, thinking.  "Wait'll they hear why Aja's not coming..."

"Better not tell them. They'll have a blood hunt after Tom before you
could say Moloch." 

*** 

How the hell could he lose a man in blazing red and a Stetson?	Tom had
searched the club, dodging persistant, would-be sire demons, for almost
an hour.  Where was he?  If he lost Fraser, Ray would kill him.  Flat
out. 

Jack was a little help when he got back from his dinner break.	"He was
talking to Rufus and Chauncey.	They run the open mike in the back room.
Try there." 

Tom nodded gratefully, wishing he'd though to bring pepper spray.  Wishing
James was here. He was getting...uptight.  Good word.  Yes.  Uptight.

Horney as hell was a better choice of words, but he was with the Mountie.

If he could find him. 

"Are you ok?" Jack asked, tilting his head suddenly. "You
look....flushed."

"I'm fine, just a little..." He stared wide eyed as a Swiss Fish suddenly
leaned over and snifed him.  "I have to go..." 

"In the back," advised Jack, thinking Tom was looking very tasty, very
sexy tonight.  Too bad he was with the Sabbat, but Jack was no fool and
he liked being alive. 

*** 

Even before they got to Warfield's, word got out that the Sabbat was
back in Giovanni territory.  It was like dropping Jane Fonda into a
convention
full of gung-ho Viet Nam vets.	Glares, hisses, curses were thrown their
way - or Calhoun's way, since everyone knew exactly whom Ray was and
would no more mess with him than Caine - as they parked and made their
way into Warfield's bar. 

Warfield glared at Calhoun as he entered a step behind Ray. The elder's
punk haircut and black leather clothing was completely out of place.
Since the day he had delivered Lord Caine from Lilith's clutches, the
Sabbat had not stepped foot in Warfield's territory and that was exactly
how the Giovanni liked it. 

Bad enough Prince Kowalski consorted with an Autarkis and a Sabbat, but
Lord Caine was forced to endure his unclean presence as well.  "You
brought
him here."  
Smart ass to the bitter end, Ray looked behind him as if noticing Calhoun
for the first time.  "Yeah.  He's my retainer." 
    
"He's Sabbat!" Warfield shook his head, knowing better than to bring
that up. "Where's Lord Caine?" 

Calhoun and Ray exchanged a look. Calhoun said nothing, knowing that
opening his mouth would only worsen his position.  Ray shrugged.  "He
had homework." 

"He's two years old," growled the Giovanni Prince, sensing the lie. 
Still, neither he nor any of the vampires present would talk directly
to Calhoun.  They would not give him that crumb of respect despite what
they owed him. 

"So?" 

"It's Friday night.  He said he would be here." 

"Well...he's not," Ray said brightly.  "Hey, Franko!" 

"Prince Kowalski!" 

Ray turned back to Prince Warfield, unafraid of the Giovanni's wrath.

"Where is Lord Caine?  Why isn't he here?" 

Ray glared right back.	"Why don't ya ask 'em the next time ya see 'em,
Warfield?  I can tell ya this much: not bein' here is his own damned
fault." 

*** 

The back room.	The open mike.	Tom closed the door behind him, well
aware of the look Jack was casting his way.  Oh, god, where was Fraser?
Why had he ever suggested this?  Bars.	Not a good idea.  He was pregnant,
for god's sake, and now... 

He /really/ needed James.  He wasn't in pain.  Yet.  But he did have
to fight down the desire to howl with every breath. 

/Stop thinking about James.  No James.	Don't think about black
leather...jack
boots...fangs...STOP IT!  No James. Fraser.  Find Fraser!/ 

Heads lifted and turned everywhere he walked.  An entire gaggle of
Cloister
demons shrieked as he walked by.  Tom frowned.	They were half his height.
Fat chance, ladies. 

He stopped abruptly.  The open mike.  Fraser!  He was...on stage. 

The Mounted Slayer was talking to an enrapt audience comprised mostly
of Enthos and Heinic demons with the odd Chaos and Vortex thrown in for
flavor.  There was even a mailer daemon.  Tom gaped. 

He was telling an Inuit story. 

And they were eating it up. 

Tom was gaping so completely he didn't even notice the pesky Heinic from
the bathroom until the demon came up from behind and slid his hands around
Tom's waist, heading straight for his groin. 

Without thinking or looking, Tom landed an elbow strike hard into the
Heinic's solar plexis and backfisted him right in the face.  The hyena
demon hit the floor with a wheeze and a thud. 

"Call me?" he begged. 

Tom snarled, and turned back to Fraser. He was continuing the story,
staring wide-eyed at Tom. He had the demons captivated, on the edge of
their seats. 

Quickly, Fraser finished his story, starting to step off the stage. The
demons protested loudly, demanding an encore, and he shook his head
modestly.
They wouldn't believe he was a Slayer, wouldn't believe a Slayer could
tell such epic tales. They'd even foisted a trophy on him earlier since
the moment he started talking all the other story tellers that had showed
up for the competition knew they had been beat and withdrew their names.
Rufus and Chauncey had extracted a promise from him to come back next
week. 

Tom stared at Fraser, looking wild and panicked. "What's wrong?" the
Mountie asked quietly, glancing around at the other demons. They were
eyeing the Moloch Slayer like he was a piece of rare steak. He sniffed..
"Oh dear..." Pheremones. 

Tom stared at Fraser harder, then at the trophy. "I need to go. Now."

"All right." He cast a look at an approaching Chaos demon. "He's with
me," he stated, bluntly, and took Tom by the arm.  

Rufus took one look at the quivering Moloch that clearly needed to
be...elsewhere,
then at the flushed bard beside him, put one and one together and got
three, and nodded his understanding.	  
"Back door." 

"Thank you kindly." 
    
*** 

Cassie sat in the living room watching a video. Dief sat beside her,
eating happily out of a popcorn bowl. They heard Adam's door slam open,
and glanced at each other warily. Even the wolf had had enough of this.

Adam stalked into the living room, glaring at her. "I wish to speak with
Diefen-" 

"You're grounded. Go back to bed." 

"I-" 

"Now." 

"But..." 

"Are you dense? Go!" 
 
He stood there, open-mouthed. 

"How do you like it, pal?  Next time you push James around, think about
this moment.  Now back in your room." 
    
***  

"Fraser, I am so sorry.  I promise I will never do anything like this
to you again." 

"You haven't done anything, Tom." 

"I embarrissed you, I dragged you into that club, I lost you - " 

"I rather enjoyed it.  I wasn't aware that demons were so fond of epic
tales." 

Tom shifted in his seat, rather uncomfortable.	"Sires and Warriors
usually
are.  Breeders...don't have that much patience." 

"Ah." 

"Um...I...I...NeedtofindJamesrightnow." 

Fraser cast him a nervous look.  "Ah." 

*** 

They had the whole side of the table to themselves.  Hell, they had half
of the room to themselves.  Ray and Calhoun were seated next to where
Caine would have sat had he not gotten his father pissed at him.  Warfield
ran the meeting, but without Caine and with Calhoun, things did not go
well and finally they adjourned until the following night. 

Warfield was furious. 

"Do NOT bring that Autarkis back tomorrow!" he ordered Ray, not even
looking at Calhoun. 

"Then I won't be here either.  Ya were nice enough to me when I was an
elder, Warfield.  He's an elder, too." 

"He's a Sabbat!" 

"Yeah, and yer just a late Rennisance I-talian in a nice suit. Caine's
my dad, this guy is /my/ retainer and he's got a lot more manners than
all of ya blood suckers put together.  I'm not going where he's not
welcome.
Oh, and Willy?" He deliberately became insulting.  "Call him Sabbat again
in that tone of voice and you and I are gonna have words.  'Night." 

***

Calhoun followed a still fuming Ray into the apartment, surprised to
see Fraser had beaten them home. Together, they stared at the Mountie
and his trophy.  The unexpected sight went far in disarming Ray's ire.

"Fraser, what the hell is that for?" 

"I won it." 

Ray made a face.  "Slaying or dancing?" 

Fraser smiled slightly, cracking his neck with a quick twist of his head.
"Actually, Ray, I won it for telling the best epic tale at an open mike
in The Gargoyle." 

"The Gargoyle?" echoed Ray.  "You went bar hopping?" 

"A change of pace, according to Tom. anyway, there was an epic tale
contest.
I wasn't aware of this, but demons have a deep appriciation for oral
history and sagas." 

"Ya told them onna them Inuit tales, right?  How long were you talkin'?"

"Uh, yes, I did.  I spoke for perhaps forty minutes.  They enjoyed it
immensly and asked I return next Friday." 

"Fraser, this is why we slay these creatures." 

"Really, Ray..." 
    
"Where's Tom?" Calhoun finally asked. 

Fraser looked up. "He requested I drop him off at a motel. He's...he's
asked that you hurry." 

"Hurry?" Calhoun tilted his head. "Why?" He didn't miss the pointed look
Fraser gave him. "Oh." He sat on the couch. "Great." 

Ray gave him a look. "Well?" 

"Gimme a minute...Week...Century." 
 
"Scram!" 

With a growl and a muttered curse, Calhoun dragged himself off the couch
and out the door.  Ray turned and gave the Mounted Slayer an appraising
look.  "First place, huh?" 

Fraser recognized the gleam in those blue eyes and deliberately undid
the velcro of his collar.  "Yes." 

Kowalski almost lost it right there.  "I...gotta talk ta Aja a sec. 
Interested in celebrating?" 

He unbuckled the Sam Browne.  "Very." 

Ray gestured, trying to think.	It wasn't easy.  "Uh...wait fer me in
the bedroom, will ya, Frase?" 

The cross-belt was slowly unbuckled as well.  "Of course." 

"Don't take anything else off.	I'll...I'll be there in a sec. 
Just...wait
fer me." 
    
*** 

Ray knocked on Adam's door, peeking in. He made a face. "Ya know, for
a guy who predates religion, ya sure got that pouty sulky baby look down
pat." 

Aja glared at his 'son', "How was the meeting, Raymond?" 

"Cancelled because I brought Cal." 

"Oh," Aja frowned. "I'm sorry." 

"Not me ya gotta apologise to."  He sat down next to the ancient.  "Aja?"

"Yes?" 

"I gotta question but I don't really need the answer.  It's one of those
rhetorical things."  He waited until Aja looked up at him before
continuing.
"How deliberate was tonight?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"I'd really hate to think ya put my retainer in that position on purpose.
He saved yer dad's butt, he saved yer butt, ans he sure as hell saved
mine.  I know there's plenty he's done that ain't quite on the up-an'-up,
but he's here now and he's proved himself.  If not ta you, Aja, then
ta me."  He leaned over and kissed his father on the forehead.	"G'night,
daddy-o." 
    
*** 

Calhoun paused outside the motel room, seriously considering leaving.
He winced as a particularly painful yowl pierced the night.  Oh, god,
what was that...that smell.  Oh, god, Tom was in heat. Again.  When he
was pregnant.  Oh, god...  
He turned to run, then jumped as the door was yanked open, and a clawed
hand reached out and grabbed him by the jacket, yanking him inside. 

Tom looked as if he wanted to devour the Sabbat. 

Poor James didn't stand a chance. 

*** 

Saturday night.  Ray sat with Aja at the kitchen table, waiting. 

Calhoun finally joined them, looking exhausted.  He sat down slowly and
Ray pushed a thermos of blood Mina had procured for them earlier in the
day. 

"Drink up," ordered Ray and Calhoun obeyed without a word.  Ray had to
fight to keep from laughing.  "Want me to drive?" 

The Sabbat nodded. 

"Whenever yer done.  No rush." 

*** 

Tonight there were no hisses, no curses.  Tonight the crowd of vampires
parted out of respect, not out of contempt.  Caine went first and Ray
and Calhoun followed and the demon and the ghoulite and the Sabbat were
met by Warfield. 

"Lord Caine.  You were sorely missed last night." 

Ray cast his father a look. 

"My abscence was my own fault, Prince Warfield.  I understand you had
some difficulty with Elder Calhoun being present."  He looked up at the
Giovanni.  "It is to stop as of this moment.  He is my son's retainer.
By insulting him, the clans insult my prince and my person." 

Warfield nodded.  "It will be done, my lord." 

Caine looked at Calhoun, looking to see if he was satisfied.  Calhoun
bent his head in a slight bow.	It was enough.	He was content.  Caine
returned the nod. 

"Very well.  Raymond, Elder, attend me." 

"My lord.' 

"You got it, daddy-o."