halloween smp part two

[maderr]

*~*~*

Life sucked.

Malcolm made his way gloomily through the halls, oblivious to the goings on around him, barely noticing when he bumped into someone and got called a nasty name.

He rarely noticed such things at the best of times. Nowadays he felt like he was constantly in a daze. Or maybe he was just numb.

Not so long ago, he'd thought to see if he could coax Paisley into doing something for Halloween. Not a date per se, never that, oh no – but, well…

It didn't matter. Halloween had come and gone and in three more days school would break for Thanksgiving. Then he just had to slog his way through finals and Christmas. Piece of cake.

Right.

Which was why three weeks after The Night the Vampires Attacked all he could think about was the morning after.

He'd woken up in his own bed, the room cold and dark, sunlight bleeding through the slits in the curtains. His throat had been throbbing like a son of a bitch, and if he'd wanted to pretend it all hadn't happened the bandages around his neck and the twin puncture wounds beneath them had dispelled any chance of that.

Vampires.

Paisley was a vampire. All those running jokes in his head had stopped being vaguely amusing. Halloween had been pure hell. Even now he couldn't wrap his mind around it, and every time he thought about the alleyway and Psycho Blonde he started feeling cold and sort of shaky.

Probably in normal circumstances the cold and the shaking and the randomly freaking out and the nightmares all involved words like post and traumatic and syndrome. He really wished he could tell someone what had happened, but who would believe him? He didn't believe him, why should someone else?

Yet even as freaked as he got thinking about it all – the eyes, the fangs, the becoming a midnight bloody Mary for a crazy ass vampire…it was the morning after that got to him more, when he was stupid enough to let himself think about it.

Cold and alone was how he'd woken up, and while his own bed should have been a comfort and relief…after a few minutes, when his brain began to work, he'd realized the feeling washing over him had been disappointment.

He would never forget the way Paisley had blazed when everything else had seemed washed out and faded.

Clearly some part of his bled out self had hoped to wake up to the same thing – not to his own bedroom with bandages around his neck and a letter on the table. A letter accompanied by a check for a ridiculous amount of money. 'Severance pay' Paisley had called it.

To Malcolm, it had felt wretchedly like a payoff.

Though it had hurt to destroy that kind of money, the thought of keeping it somehow hurt more. He'd torn the check up.

He really needed to get a new job – Paisley had paid him generously for that stupid catalogue work, but it would only hold him through November and maybe a bit of December if he kept on with the barely eating thing he had going.

Sighing, he slumped down in his seat at the back of the room and took out the battered notebook that had more doodles than actual notes in it. He was a lot better at note taking when he had his laptop, but most of his professors forbade students to use laptops in class.

It had always annoyed him before; professors could be such dinosaurs about things. Nowadays, though, it just reminded him of a certain vampire with long black hair and amber eyes and a vehement dislike of technology.

He turned to look blankly out the window as the last students shuffled in, grimacing at all the snow. It had fallen pretty heavy the night before, but had tapered off during the morning and afternoon. Looked like it was returning with the dark, unfortunately. He really hoped it didn't get so bad they cancelled class, 'cause he wasn't sure what he'd do with nothing to distract him.

The professor started talking and he half-heartedly turned back to pay attention. American History 101 was far from his favorite class, but so far as taking a requirement went it wasn't the worst he could have gotten stuck with.

Jotting down what the professor wrote on the whiteboard, he fell into doodling, wishing vaguely that…what? Things were different? That he was still chillin' with his vampire boss?

At least he knew now why Paisley never ate his own cooking.

Bah.

Another semester and he'd be done with his BS. Then he'd transfer far far away and never think about his time here in New Transylvania. Or whatever.

He idly began to shade in the bat with giant fangs he'd drawn next to notes on Gettysburg – and gasped in sudden pain, dropping his pencil to slap a hand to the throbbing ache in his neck.

Around him the rest of the class fell suddenly silent, but Malcolm barely noticed. His eyes were only for the figure outside the window – Psycho Blonde man. Shit. What was he doing here? Paisley's note had said the guy wasn't a problem any more. That it had been thoroughly taken care of.

How had the bastard found him here? The campus was massive and…

Shit, it didn't matter how.

Still ignoring the rest of the class, and the fact the professor's tone of voice had said he'd called Malcolm's name more than once, he gathered up his stuff and bolted.

Realizing only belatedly that had been a dumb thing to do, he stood undecided and close to panicking in the middle of the hallway. His neck hurt. The wound was long healed now, but he sensed the scars would never fade. Luckily it being winter meant there was plenty of clothing to hide the lurid marks; summer he'd figure out later.

For now, though, he needed to figure out how to stay alive.

A door opened at the far end of the hallway and he realized he was completely and totally fucked.

Well, he wasn't going to stand around shrieking about it like some blonde bimbo from a hack and slash flick. Turning, he bolted down the hallway and out the emergency doors, grateful as always that the staff had given up keeping students from using them and just deactivated the alarms.

Outside, he half ran, half slipped down the stairs, then threw himself onto the lawn of the primary quad, wishing there wasn't so much fucking snow and – he gagged as his sweater was yanked on hard from behind, Psycho Blonde choking him as he was dragged away, vision going spotty from a lack of oxygen.

He was dragged back inside, though it was a different building, into a classroom that smelled like it wasn't used very often. Hell, it still had a chalkboard. Seriously old school. Psycho threw him to the floor and Malcolm slowly pulled himself up, morosely noting that he was in the corner of the room farthest from the door, with a blood sucker directly in his path.

Hadn't he read this story before? Except it was yet another blond bimbo and he thought one of her nine boyfriends showed up just in time to watch her kick ass and ultimately not need him for anything more than freaky vampire sex. Or something.

"What?" he asked.

The vampire sneered. "I knew you were still around. Paisley is soft and weak."

"I'm more depressed by the fact that you're still around."

The vampire let out a sharp bark of laughter than made chills run up and down Malcolm's spine. "He would not dare kill me. Murder is as punishable amongst vampires as it is amongst humans – we're even more strict, actually, given how few of us there are."

Ugh. He'd actually said the fucking word. Admitted what he was. Vampire. Until now, some small part of him had refused to believe it. But the psycho's eyes were slightly weird, and his fangs were just visible, and he'd called himself a vampire and the healed wound on Malcolm's neck felt like it was on fire.

"In pain, human?" The vampire drew close, and Malcolm tried to recoil but that only literally trapped him in the corner and he stupidly recalled that this was the same way he always got himself killed in the zombie VGs too. Stupid corners.

He shuddered as the vampire touched him, cold fingers just barely brushing his cheek before his clothes were abruptly ripped.

"Hey!" he protested, struggling to get away even while knowing it was futile. "You had better replace that."

"Shut up," the vampire snarled, and touched his fingers to the wound on Malcolm's neck.

He bit back a scream, cause the touch made everything so hot it was cold and he wanted to scream so badly but if someone heard them then the vampire might be killing more than him today.

Then the vampire stopped, and an expression Malcolm liked even less than the 'mmm, snack' one overtook the vampire's face. He started laughing again, and Malcolm wanted badly to call his mommy.

Except she'd be too busy shopping.

Ugh, he wondered if other people had such stupid thoughts while having their blood sucked.

Those nasty vile fingers stroked his wound again, and Malcolm wondered how many man points he'd lose if he started crying from the pain. It hurt damn it.

"That bastard," the vampire said.

Malcolm caught those two words, knowing he meant Paisley, wishing said computer-hating vampire was here. Even if he'd probably just vanish again after dumping Malcolm back in his room with another payoff.

"He gave you the second bite," the vampire continued, the words spoken with a low, angry pensiveness.

Wait, wait, hold the phone. "Second bite?"

The vampire smirked. "Yes. Did he not tell you? That would be like noble, old-fashioned Paisley. That nitwit has-been knight never could think beyond the idiotic code precious few of his long-decayed peers ever bothered to follow. A dumber vampire I've never seen, and he continues his idiocy by trying to save you rather than simply being smart and having dinner."

His expression changed again, back to that 'mmm, snack' look but somehow even worse. "You were a fine meal; I'm rather annoyed I can't have another taste."

Malcolm blinked. Stared. Really wished something would start to make sense.

Then the vampire yanked him close – and tossed him toward the door. Malcolm landed awkwardly on his side, back banging against the wall, head knocking on the floor. Ouch. He scrambled for purchase and slowly dragged himself to his feet.

"Two bites. That means one more and you'll be a vampire yourself. Right now you are too much a vampire for me simply to kill – not unlike, I suppose, the way it is considered murder to kill a baby when it is so many months along in its development."

Malcolm would have rolled his eyes at that, or at least been kind of amused that he was apparently in the second or third trimester of vampirism or something, but he was just too confused and scared and worn out. He wanted his heart not to beat out of his chest, he wanted not to become a vampire's juice box, and he definitely didn't want to be a vampire.

He jerked away, huddling against the wall as the vampire drew close – but rather than stop Psycho Blonde merely strolled out, laughing his cold, awful laugh again.

When it finally faded away, and the throbbing pain in his neck eased, Malcolm still could not make himself move. The best he could manage was to sink slowly to the floor and curl up.

A geek. He was just a lonely, quiet little geek hoping to get through school and find a good job and maybe a cute boyfriend who didn't mind his oddballness. Obviously it was never going to happen, since Psycho Blonde clearly preferred he be a part of the dead rather than the living or the undead.

The room was cold, and his mood wasn't improved by the way the wind had begun to whistle and howl outside. Looked like the snowfall was going to turn into a full on nasty. Great.

He lifted a hand to his neck, grimacing at his torn clothes – jacket, sweater, even his t-shirt had been ruined. He'd wonder if the guy was this rough in bed, except he'd rather turn eunuch than ever learn what Psycho Blonde was like in bed.

Ugh. Sitting here and cowering in doom and gloom wasn't going to get anything done. He'd been doing that for weeks and all it had accomplished was ruined clothes and barely escaping becoming a vampire's jumbo latte.

Standing up, he resettled his bag on his shoulders and raked a hand through his hair, glaring at the way it still trembled a bit. He needed either a nap or a good, stiff drink. Maybe both.

On top of everything else, he'd also ditched class. Fuckity McFuck.

What was he supposed to do? Find a city without vampires, he guessed. How did one go about determining that? Heck if he knew. Maybe there was a website for it.

Rolling his eyes at himself, he dragged his feet as he left the room and building, holding his ripped clothes together as he slogged through the falling snow. He needed to get home. But then what?

Yet even as he asked the question, he knew the answer.

He needed to go see Paisley.

*~*~*

His key still worked.

Somehow, he'd expected the locks to have been changed. It would have made sense.

The only thing dumber was the way he felt kinda happy that his key still worked. It probably meant nothing. He was painfully humiliating proof that vampires had nothing to fear from humans.

Stepping inside, he was unsurprised to see everything was dark. He hesitated in the entryway, then shrugged and sloughed his winter gear. He didn't know exactly why he'd bothered coming, or what he hoped to achieve – hell, beyond 'what the fuck' he didn't even know what he intended to say – but he knew he had no intention of going back to his apartment until there was lots of light.

Cause apparently the old axiom about vampires not being partial to tans was true.

The garlic thing not so much, cause Paisley was quite liberal with it.

Interesting. He wondered which myths were true and which were false. He'd be willing to bet the coffin thing wasn't true, nor the graveyard dirt. What about wooden stakes and stuff? But he'd seen Paisley breathing, so obviously he wasn't undead yet he avoided the daylight so there was something…

Oh good grief.

Disgusted with himself, Malcolm hung up his things, set his book bag beneath them, and continued on into the house proper. He remembered the first time he'd been in it, all those weeks ago – how Paisley had yanked him inside…that whole night made him smile now.

He walked toward the library, knowing somehow that's exactly where Paisley would be. More than once he had wondered if the man – the vampire – slept with his precious books. And wow did it ever make more sense now why Paisley had books Malcolm had always kinda suspected weren't generally thought to be around anymore.

Pushing the door open, he looked immediately toward the chairs by the fire – and wasn't surprised to see Paisley watching him, as though he had been waiting. Malcolm hadn't thought his arrival would go unnoticed. He'd been expecting Paisley to know.

What he hadn't expected was the punched in the gut feeling he got from seeing Paisley again. He'd missed his job, their routine, seeing Paisley…but until now he hadn't realized just how much he'd missed him.

It hurt worse than the stupid marks on his neck, seeing Paisley again. Stupid vampire who hired him then freaked him out then paid him off to stay away.

"Malcolm."

He startled to hear his name, and it wasn't fair that hurt too. Stupid pretty boy vampire.

Shaking his head to clear it of as much stupidity as possible, Malcolm moved further into the room and finally spoke. "Your friend paid me another visit."

Paisley's carefully blank expression turned into one of surprise – then anger. He closed his book with a snap and stood up. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, crossing the room and stopping just short of touching distance.

Mingled with the smell of books and the crackling fire was the scent of Paisley's cologne – pungent, sharp, like the incense his mother had liked for a while growing up. But…not unpleasant like he'd always considered the incense.

"He tore up my clothes getting to my jugular, but then he freaked out cause apparently I'm too developed to be aborted or dined upon."

Paisley sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which really did look entirely too pretty down, finally resting his hand lightly on the desk.

Malcolm noticed absently that all his computer equipment was still there, if turned off and dusty. Somehow, he'd been sure Paisley would get rid of it all. After taking a baseball bat to it. Or maybe a cane; he couldn't see Paisley with a bat.

"I am sorry to have taken such a gross liberty," Paisley said. "My sole intent was to save you. I never meant for you to become tangled up in all this. I offer my most sincere apologies."

"Yeah," Malcolm said, unable to completely keep the bitterness from his voice. "Apparently your most sincere apologies come in the form of a one and several zeroes."

Paisley looked at him, eyes so focused. "I gave the money honestly; the crassness you have clearly construed was not intended. My thinking was that you would want to leave as quickly as possible; I thought to make that a simple matter for you."

Oh. Well…that sounded reasonable. Much less tacky than payoff. "I have to finish school." And he was still kinda sorta maybe a tad hung up on his pretty boy vampire former employer. "So what's going to happen to me?"

"Nothing," Paisley said wearily, looking away. "Lambert wrongly assaulted you." He grimaced. "I thought I had properly addressed that situation. Apparently not." He looked at Malcolm, expression cautious, guarded. "I bit you only so that he could neither feed nor kill you, on the chance that he did not stay away. I swear to you that's all. It requires three toxic bites to turn a man, and if the third is not given within a certain a span of time of the second, the vampire toxin eventually fades from the system."

Malcolm looked at him. "What's the timeframe?"

"Two to three years."

"Wow," Malcolm said, whistling. "That's a long ass time."

Paisley nodded, looking tired again. "Yes," he said quietly. "I am sorry. There was no other way to ensure your safety."

"Eh." Malcolm shrugged. "I shouldn't have gotten nosey. Whatever the heck you two were arguing about, it wasn't my business. I should have stayed downstairs like a good little computer geek."

"Yes," Paisley said slowly, tilting his head, looking curious. "Why did you come upstairs? I admit part of the fault lies with me, for neither closing the door nor watching the time, but I was shocked to see you had come upstairs."

It was Malcom's turn to look away, and he wished he was standing close enough to the fire to use it to account for his flushed cheeks. "Curiosity killed the cat, I guess. Or at least sucked the cat's blood. I'd never heard you so loud or angry before – and you've never had other people in the house while I was around. So I didn't think."

A faint hint of smile twitched at Paisley's lip for an all too brief moment. It reminded Malcolm that he never had really gotten Paisley to laugh. "I will take care of Lambert, even if I must carry this matter to the counsel."

"Counsel? Like, a vampire counsel?"

Paisley nodded. "Yes. Vampires are a small race, but we try to keep ourselves governed."

Malcolm bit back more questions, but tamping down on his curiosity was hard. His neck was throbbing too, though not painfully. Not painful in the slightest, actually. It was nothing like the way it hurt when Psycho Blonde – Lambert, he guessed – was around. Hey, good question. "Why does my neck hurt when your crazy pal comes near me? I swear it felt like someone had shoved a hot poker into my neck."

"Because the bite was given maliciously with every intention of killing, and it was obvious he meant it to hurt as much as possible. Your body and mind recall the pain and fear associated with his presence, and so the toxins from him in you and still in the bite react by causing pain. You could say your body is rejecting him." Paisley peered at him, and started to say something else, then gave a slight shake of his head – as if telling himself no.

Well, it wasn't hard to guess. "And it doesn't hurt when you're around…"

"One, I didn't bite your neck," Paisley said with another faint smile. "Two, there was nothing malicious or dangerous about my bite. Three, and most important, you were unconscious. My bite actually helped fix most of the damage Lambert caused."

Didn't bite his neck? Oh. He'd just assumed they used the same spot… "So where did you bite me? Cause I haven't noticed any other scars."

He boggled at the expression that washed over Paisley's face. It was…embarrassment. No way. Vampires didn't get embarrassed. Hell, even if he wasn't a vampire, men like Paisley didn't get embarrassed. His name was Paisley and he had long hair tied back with a ribbon and still came off as way too hot for peace of mind. What the heck did he have to be embarrassed about?

"I am not an uncouth villain like Lambert," Paisley said at last. "I was careful not to bite in a way that I would leave a scar. You have suffered enough. I never intended any of this to happen, and I cannot express my regret enough."

Dude, he was totally dodging the question. Heart beating out of his chest for a reason he couldn't quite grasp, Malcolm moved a bit closer and looked up. "Where did you bite me?"

Paisley frowned. "It matters not."

"Oh, I suddenly think it does," Malcolm replied, licking his lips, wishing he knew what he was doing other than letting his mouth have way too much leeway. "Why are you so reluctant to say?"

A reluctant smile tugged at Paisley's mouth, and his eyes took on a strange gleam that for some reason kicked Malcolm's heartbeat up another notch. "My reticence to admit the place in which I bit you will likely require another apology on my part."

"That asshole should be the one apologizing, not you. Next time I hear you arguing with someone, I'll just stay in the library."

Paisley laughed – softly, way too briefly, but a laugh all the same. Yay progress.

"Speaking of which, am I totally fired or do I stand a chance of getting rehired? I'm surprised the computers are still here."

"Oh, I considered it," Paisley said, glaring briefly at the desk and all the equipment covering it. He turned back to Malcolm. "I half feared setting something on fire."

Malcolm smiled. "Even you would have a hard time doing that, but I'm glad you didn't destroy it." Was he crazy or was Paisley just the teensiest bit closer? Man, he hoped he wasn't about to wind up feeling really stupid and hurt. "Where did you bite me?"

Paisley made a sound that was part sigh, part laugh, and his eyes were brighter than ever and suddenly there was practically no space between them at all and a hand in his hair and

He jerked a bit when instead of kissing him, Paisley bit at his bottom lip – but then he lapped at it, and Malcolm thought vaguely of cats and cream but it skittered away because now Paisley was kissing him and for an undead guy he was awfully warm and oh the long pretty hair was as soft as it looked and this was way better, a thousand times, a million times better than all his fantasies.

It was only reluctantly that he broke the kiss, drawing in as deep a breath as he could manage, looking up at the eyes that were totally weird now – kinda animalistic, kinda still human. Oh, fangs. Hello. That was going to take getting used to. "So, um, does this mean I could have been hitting on you the entire time?"

Paisley blinked at him – then laughed. "You are the oddest human I have encountered in a long time."

"You were human once, weren't you?"

"All adults were children once, does that mean you are still a child or even entirely remember what it was like to be one? Now imagine adding, oh, several hundreds years of difference."

Malcolm pondered that. "I see what you mean." He licked his bottom lip, which was sore and kinda throbbing but would probably stop soon unless they kissed again and he seriously wouldn't mind being a little sore in various places in the morning if the reasons started with kissing and proceeded from there.

He realized something. "You bit me again."

Paisley shook his head. "It wasn't a toxic bite." He gently grasped Malcolm's head between his hands and tilted it slightly, then ducked his own to once more bite sharply at Malcolm's bottom lip. He lapped at the wound, tongue dragging across both of Malcolm's barely parted lips.

It was one part freaky, nine parts hot as hell. He could barely get guys to kiss him on the pathetically rare occasion he got any sort of action, never mind this treating him like he was some sort of…well, treat. Funny how that had scared the living shit out of him with Psycho Blonde, but he was more than happy to be Paisley's happy meal.

He groaned, unable to help himself, and then he was given another kiss and oh man he hoped this led to a hell of a lot more cause he could so adjust to dating a vampire if that vampire was Paisley.

Paisley broke the second kiss, and if Malcolm knew how to pout he might have tried it cause he didn't want anything to stop. "Why didn't we do this sooner?"

"I'm a vampire," Paisley said. "Immortal, even when my…relatives…get annoyed with my refusal to be more modern than I strictly have to. That's what the argument was about, by the way. They think my old fashioned ways could prove dangerous to us."

Gentle fingers combed through his hair, and those amber eyes were so intent as they watched him. Malcolm shivered, totally done for where Paisley was concerned. "I'm a vampire," Paisley said again. "You're a human. Such a combination seldom turns out well." His mouth twisted. "You are also quite skilled in all this modern nonsense I detest."

"That just means I can deal with it so you can ignore it," Malcolm replied. "Anyway, you make old school look hot as hell."

Paisley laughed again, something like fondness in it. "Half the time I wonder if I get all that you are saying."

"The feeling is mutual. No one talks the way you do anymore – but I like it. So, uh, you be old fashioned and I'll be modern? We can work the rest out, yeah?"

"Yes," Paisley said softly. "I am happy you came back. I believed you well and truly gone."

Malcolm shrugged. "I, uh, had school. And winter sucks for traveling." He shrugged again. "I wanted to come back, but you fired me. I figured that was that."

"Perhaps I was a trifle hasty…" Paisley murmured, lips twitching, and oh man Paisley teasing him was mind boggling in the best of ways. "Though I warn you that your list of duties will be expanding considerably."

"Mmm, duties," Malcolm replied, and dragged him down for another kiss.

Comments

[camden-rehab.livejournal.com]

Oh gosh, yummy. ^^ Paisley's name makes me giggle every time I read it...

[melayneseahawk.livejournal.com]

Mmmm. Yummy.

[broken-moons.livejournal.com]

Oh, I like this ^_^ Not your average vampire story - not your average vampire, either. 'Paisley' *snickers*
And Psycho Blonde is... really psycho ^_^; Scary dude.

[twilight-angel.livejournal.com]

Very nice take on the whole vampire thing!

Actually, I think the name Lambert is almost worse than Paisley. Almost. :p

[tygati.livejournal.com]

Mmmmmmmm *happy sigh* ^____^ Paisley makes ribbons hot. And Malcolm is dementedly luffly Geek. ^_______^

[theotherdigit.livejournal.com]

A vampire who likes cooking? XD [loves on] Though srsly, how could anyone not love technology? [clings to her computer] Insane. INSANE I SAY! But cute insane, so it's ok.

P.S. Geeks are cool.

P.P.S. [kicks Lambert in his dangling bits]

[mechante-fille.livejournal.com]

Ok, this was love. Just love. Malcolm was awesome, the library stuff was awesome, Paisley was the absolute bomb! His abhorrence of ...well, everything the present has to offer, pretty much, was just perfect and the cooking!!!! So cute. ^_^ I bet they'll keep cooking, even after Malcolm is a vampire someday. I wonder what they'll do with the food, though. Hm, something good.

Oh!! 'Spectacles, testicles, wallet, watch'!!! I say this every day before I leave the house. ^___________^ Well, the days I remember everything I do. ;p 'Testicles' tend to be my lunch box and travel mug of tea. ^____^ I could probably use spectacle as something else, too, as I am way to blind to ever forget corrective lenses. Anyway, I laughed when Malcolm said that. ^____^

Mmm, duties, indeed. Thanks so much for the loveliness. *beams*

[aqua-eyes.livejournal.com]

bwahaha. paisley. If you were his mama he'd probably stab you. ;)

Loved it.

[tsubaki-dono.livejournal.com]

Another good one. Interesting stories and backgrounds you come up with. Loved the inner-snarky Malcolm there; such good humour. Would be nice to see this couple again soon... but excuse me while I go indulge in the DWTD (one of my faves) short Halloween story that I can see above this entry...

[mordred-risika.livejournal.com]

Awwwww that was awesome. I love vampires, and you do them well! I love the old fashioned ways of Paisley (which is an awesome name!) I would love to see them after some time together, to see if they start rubbing off on each other (traits, I mean traits...) This totally made my night!!! Thank you!

[charisstoma.livejournal.com]

My imagination was going crazy as to where the second bite could have been. *picks mind out of gutter and brushes it off*
Okay this is the second time I've had to say this or something like it but *wails* I liked Lambert. What is it with the sexy bad guys?
Wanted to grab Lambert back, slam him against the wall and have my way with him. A less than gentle wooing competition. Then I'd walk out of the room laughing.*swoons* Yes, I liked the elder Malfoy too.
You and your fictions fire the imagination.

[kiyoshi-chan.livejournal.com]

Hee hee hee. They are SO CUTE.

[(Anonymous)]

This story is hilarious, but it somehow doesn't seem quite finished. Need to tie up some loose ends with Lambert I think.

[nic-an-t-saoir.livejournal.com]

This has so many cute touches! I adored Malcolm's sarcastic geek and his inner, somewhat flippant commentary as he tried to deal with the situation. I also loved the way Paisley was so testy and determined to not modernise and was in some way *so* obliviously a vampire no one would actually, really think it. Most of all, I loved how there were so many aspects that made it appear to be a typical vampire tale (long hair, somewhat froofy names, evil blond dudes) and yet it felt nothing like it as I was reading. Really fun and sweet work!

[skylark97.livejournal.com]

*tackle hearts* ^_______________^ I LOVE Malcolm's geek and Paisley's technophobia and the whole vampire aspect of it and how long it take Malcolm to figure it out in. XD *twirls you about* I love you and I loved this, and hopefully you already knew that? ^_^;;

You rock the world. *takcle glomps*

[vampjannae.livejournal.com]

okay, I thought reading this one after DwtD might regain control of a few brain cells... but noooo... it just destroyed more! *fangirl swoon*

woman, you are going to be the death of me... but what a fantastic way to die.

*crosses fingers* is this going to turn into it's own 'verse? I'll beg for it, if that helps...

<-- is a hardcore vampire fangirl... is also slowly going mad because she doesn't have the money to buy the latest Christine Feehan Dark series book and the latest Sherrilyn Kenyon Dark Hunter series book... among other amazing vampire things.

[miikarin.livejournal.com]

I'm trying to figure out who's more likely to kill you for their name: Silver or Paisley?

Other than that...

If someone put up an ad like that, I would definitely think they were sarcastic. Of course, after reading this story, I'd probably be very amused.

The bites and the toxins were a good explanation, one I haven't come across before. Your vampires are always ♥.