She and Mike finally made their peace after the Javier Mendoza fiasco. It took a long time and it wasn't until after the Brendan Ledford case before they were back in a sharing Chinese place in their friendship again. But even if they were back on good terms again, there was a change she couldn't quiet put her finger on. Mike always flirted with her, a symptom of their long term partnership and on again, off again, relationship, but now it wasn't there.
Of course with Mike back, it also meant he and Henry were bickering on a regular basis again. She however noticed something different about them and how they interacted with each other. Not to mention they kept staring at one another when they thought no one was looking.
Henry once told her she was a part of him after she fed him. She wondered how much Mike was a part of Henry now since Mike had also fed Henry.
Mike sat on the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him, glass of Johnnie Walker black in his hand. He decided he was going crazy and not necessarily in a good way. For the last month or month and a half, if he didn't otherwise keep his mind occupied he found his thoughts straying. It use to be Vickie who occupied his thoughts but not anymore.
Now it was Henry Fitzroy. Bastard son of a king. Vampire.
He'd just as soon be attracted to Dave than the blood sucker Fitzroy but it wasn't his womanizing sometimes partner he saw under him with his head thrown back in passion when he closed his eyes.
He'd even tried to start something with Elena, ignoring the fact she turned out to be Medusa, before that, every time she touched his neck his thoughts turned to Henry. The feel of his mouth on him, Henry's arms holding him.
Pouring himself another glass when he realized he'd finished the first, or was it the second or third, he tried to analyze that particular snag. Why did Elena touching his neck set off thoughts of Fitzroy? It wasn't as if the bite had happened during passion. In fact it hurt like hell. But for all that, there was no scar to remind him. No sensitivity when he touched the spot. Hell even other people had touched his neck and he never felt a jolt. With each revelation he took a large drink. Was the magic that had lived in Elena that caused his neck to tingle when they got intimate? Was it some kind of warning off signal Henry had planted in him causing him to steer away from being intimate with magical types? Mike shook his head, he knew he was thinking crazy now.
Downing his drink, he poured the last of the bottle into his glass, which he downed in rapid succession. He hoped the amount of alcohol in his system would keep the dreams away for just one night. He wished there was someone he could talk to about all of this. But the last thing he wanted to do was talk to Vickie, let alone Henry, and he wasn't sure he wanted to go to Coreen. As much as he would like to he wasn't a hundred percent sure he could trust her not to go to Vickie. Although if his sleepless nights filled with dreams continued he might have to give in.
"Mike you look terrible," Coreen declared as he walked through the door wearing a wrinkled suit and even more wrinkled overcoat and more unshaven than she'd ever seen him even after a night of being out solving a case with Vickie.
He just shrugged and headed into Vicki's office.
"She's out and I don't know when she'll be back," Coreen continued as she followed him into Vickie's office and watched as he headed directly to the file cabinet.
Opening the top drawer, Mike pulled out the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue he'd given her and proceeded to pour himself a large glass. "It's not her I want to talk to," he stated as he took a large gulp.
"Mike. What's wrong?" Coreen asked as she sat on the corner of the desk and watched as Mike took another big gulp of scotch.
"I need someone to talk to and I need you to promise me you won't go to Vickie with this," he admitted reluctantly, finishing his drink and pouring another.
"Mike now you are really scaring me."
"Coreen," he said exasperated with her.
"Okay. I promise," she conceded.
"Ah hell." He really didn't know where to start. How did he say he was having dreams about the bloodsucker, let alone the nature of the dreams.
Picking up the bottle and glass, Mike walked over to the sofa and sat down on the edge, setting the bottle and the glass on the coffee table in front of him. Sighing he knew he'd have to come up with something. "What do you know about what happens to a blood donor?" he asked, keeping it generic.
"I take it you don't mean Red Cross?"
He was pretty sure the look he shot her said more than words could.
"Why? Do you think you are having some kind of reaction?"
When he glared at her, she quickly started to explain what little she knew. "Not much. I don't think Vicki has had any reaction but Henry didn't take near as much as he did with you," she told him. "I could do some research for you if you'd like," she offered knowing she really hadn't answered his question.
Mike sighed and leaned back into the sofa. Part of him wanted to tell her to do the research but in doing so, it risked the people he didn't want to know finding out.
"Mike, I can't help you if you don't talk to me," she told him knowing there was more to the story than what he was saying.
"I'm having dreams and I wanted to know if it's normal," he finally explained, leaving out what kind of dreams he was really having. He didn't want to fuel her fantasies with his 'issues'.
Coreen hopped up from where she was perched on the edge of Vicki's desk. "What kind of dreams? Incubus type dreams like Vicki had or blood and guts type dreams?" she asked.
Mike took a deep breath, about to admit the type of dreams he was having when Vicki, with Henry on her heels, came through the door.
"In here," Coreen called out in answer.
"Mike?" Vicki said surprised when she walked in and saw him sitting there.
"Vick," He greeted. "Fitzroy."
"What are you doing here Mike?" Vicki asked wondering why he'd stopped by. It wasn't something he did anymore without her calling for help with a case.
Raising his now empty glass, "I need a drink and your office was closer than going home." He ignored Coreen's questioning glance at his blatant lie to Vicki, but he knew Vicki wouldn't question his story and would mark it down to a tough case.
"Well I'm glad you're here. I need your help with something," Vicki said as she leaned up against her desk.
"Do we have a case?" Coreen asked filling Mike's glass again, wondering if maybe she plied him with enough alcohol she'd be able to figure out what was going on.
"Not tonight Vicki," he said taking a gulp from his refilled glass. "I need to go home. I'll stop by in the morning." He had multiple reasons for not wanting to be there, but the biggest reason was Fitzroy.
Vicki semi-ignored his wanting to leave and started to describe her current case which surprisingly wasn't supernatural. Yet. Sipping his scotch he watched the vampire through the hair that had fallen over his eyes. He noticed something while watching Henry. He could make the vampire stutter and lose track of what he was saying just by touching his neck where he'd been bitten. An interesting development and one that told Mike he wasn't alone in whatever was going on.
Downing the last of his scotch, Mike stood and told them, "I have to go. Talk to me tomorrow."
"Mike, I really need your input on this."
"Tomorrow Vicki," he told her again, hoping if he repeated it enough, she'd get the hint. He headed toward the door and stumbled on the edge of the coffee table.
"But..." Vicki tried to protest.
"Mike, you're too tired to drive," Coreen declared.
"Vicki, the good detective said tomorrow," Henry interceded coming to Mike's rescue.
"Vicki," Henry said, this time with a little more warning to his voice before turning to Mike. "Come detective, let me take you home. I would hate to have you kill yourself by falling asleep at the wheel."
"Good idea," Coreen echoed "You've had quite a bit to drink too, Mike."
He was tempted to protest but Fitzroy was right. He was tired and Coreen pointing out the amount of alcohol he'd had sealed the deal.
Vicki tried to protest again, "Henry."
Mike shook his head as they walked out the door. He knew Vicki didn't want either of them to leave and didn't like that she was rapidly losing control of the situation. And for once he really didn't care.
Henry waited until they were in the car before turning to the detective to ask, "What's going on Celluci?"
"Just drive Fitzroy," Mike stated, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
Mike didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he felt Fitzroy's hand on his arm. "Detective." He opened his eyes to see them parked in an underground garage. "This isn't my place."
"No, it's mine," Henry answered opening the door.
"Detective. This is the best place to get uninterrupted sleep and we need to talk."
"Fine," Mike conceded. He really was too tired to argue and hell, he could always have the vampire do his vampire mind thingy to make him sleep.
They walked through the lobby, nodding to the doorman. When they finally made it to Henry's penthouse, Mike slumped onto the sofa and lay back, closing his eyes. He wasn't surprised when the vampire repeated the question he'd asked earlier.
"This is more than a case and long hours. What is going on?" Henry asked crossing his arms across his chest. "I could make you tell me but I'd rather you tell me on your own."
Mike opened his eyes and looked at where the vampire stood in front of him. "What did you do to me?" he asked bluntly.
"What do you mean?" Henry asked trying not to be confrontational.
"When you bit me, what did you do to me?" Mike repeated his question clarifying it further.
"Surely detective you aren't accusing me of some nefarious plan?"
"Fitzroy, I'm serious here."
Henry noticed the detective's distress his decision that now wouldn't be a good time to indulge in his favourite pastime of provoking the detective was obviously a good one. "What are you experiencing?"
Mike took a deep breath, Fitzroy was the last person he wanted to talk about this with, but he was also the only person who could answer his question and help make it stop. "I've been having dreams."
"About?" Henry asked, now more curious than ever.
"Us," Mike answered plainly, dropping his chin so he wouldn't have to see the Vampire's face.
"And these dreams are causing you sleepless nights?"
"Every time I close my eyes, it's all I see. All I feel," he reluctantly admitted.
"This distresses you?"
"What do you think?" You think I want to dream about having sex with you. About you biting me?" Mike growled looking Henry straight in the eye.
"No detective, I'm sure you don't." Henry refrained from any jab at Detective Celluci's distress over the situation no matter how much it pained him to do so. However, there was something else too. Something he wanted to know the answer too, "Are the dreams something you want to act on?"
"No," Mike paused, "Maybe."
"I see..." Henry said closing the gap between them in the beat of a heart and kneeling between Mike's outstretched legs.
Mike wasn't sure he wanted to watch as Henry slid his hands up his legs or if he just wanted to close his eyes and feel. Deciding to leave them open, he watched Henry. The intensity and the pleasure that showed on Fitzroy's face almost undid him.
When the vampire stood and leaned above him, one hand braced on the back of the sofa and the other slid along Mike's jawline to cup the back of his neck. Mike reached up and framed Henry's face with his hands before guiding him closer for a kiss. The gentle touch was quickly filled with passion and fire and when Henry pulled back, Mike gasped in disappointment.
"I have no intention of consummating this on the sofa," Henry declared, pulling back even further. Holding out his hand he instructed, "Come detective. Mike."
Taking Henry's hand, Mike allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and led into the bedroom. The vampire's large bed loomed in front of him. Uncertainness stopped him for a moment but desire won out and he tugged Fitzroy to him. With a hand on the back of the vampire's neck, he sank his hands into his thick dark hair, kissing him again.
Between kisses they undressed until only silk boxers separated them and Henry tumbled them back onto the red silk sheets. Desire sent hands over one another's bodies touching, discovering and finally removing the last barrier between them. Lost in their kiss, their bodies moved together, sweat easing the slide until the feel of teeth against his neck brought his completion.
Mike lay with Henry curled against him, his body limp, the last thing he remembered hearing was Fitzroy's voice whispering, "Sleep."