Colors Of The Night
A breeze drifted slowly in through the window, ruffling the curtains gently against the wall. The moon, high up above the city's buildings, shone in through the unshaded glass, tripping over dis-guarded t-shirts and pants, over piles of books and empty herb bottles, that were currently spread across the floor.
He watched in almost rapt fascination as finger tips danced gently over the harden knots of muscles, that covered his stomach. Dipping softly into the shallow valleys between the gentle rise of each section of his six pack. His skin was bathed in moonlight, giving him an almost ether-real glow, the skin looking like sparkling white marble in its shine.
He could smell the gentle, teasing scent of the incense, as it burned almost non stop on the dresser, which was cluttered in more bottles of herbs, more charms and talismans that his companion used at different times of the month. He'd never really asked why, hadn't thought it any of his business really.
He thought maybe it was something to do with the faint haunted look, that always seemed to linger in the back of his eyes. As if he'd seen one too many things that no one should ever see. One too many monsters. He wasn't stupid, he knew there were things out there that couldn't be explained, or denied. That couldn't be waved away with a shake of the head.
There were things out there that even the darkness feared. As if there was always something very dangerous, standing behind you in the dark, breathing down your neck.
It was, in fact, how they had met. He was walking home in the early hours of the morning, after working late in the bar he tended near the centre of town, when a man had jumped out at him, dragging him painfully into a blackened alley and bent his neck cruelly to the side. It was at that moment that he knew he was going to die, could feel his bladder start to relax and the rest of his body tense up. He still cringed at the memory of the warm liquid seeping out of his body and running down his legs, staining his pants.
And then, as he watched through the moonlight, a man had stopped in the mouth of the alley. Slowly, he removed his jacket, his pants, his shirt and shoes, until he was stood there in just his boxers. And then he shifted, changed, and morphed into something not quite human, not quite man. Almost like a wolf.
Needless to say, the man who had attacked him didn't last very long, the moment the man-beast who had saved him ripped off his head, he crumbled into dust and dropped to the floor at the man's feet. Because now he was a man. No longer needing to be the vicious half animal he had changed himself into.
He cocked his head to the side, studying him before putting his clothes back on and locking eyes with him.
"Need a drink?" his voice came out softly, slightly husky and sounding almost raw with adrenalin.
"How about a keg?" the shorter man nodded, turning around and gesturing him to follow. He'd been led just around the corner to a walk up apartment, and offered a change of clothing and a shower, before being given a drink of dark amber liquid. He didn't much care what it was, just so long as it had the ability to put him on his ass and wipe the night from his mind.
They'd started talking, neither of them actually being that talkative, but finding a common ground non the less. They talked about music and films, food and fine win, until it came to where they came from. The red haired stranger, who'd saved his life that night, had lowered his head slightly, studying the table top and swirling the bourbon gently around in his glass.
"I come from a town in L.A. Not much of a population. Well, unless you count the vampires." He raised his eyes up slowly, cocking his head to the side slightly and watching for his reaction to the words.
"Is that what that was? A vampire?" the shorter man nodded as he took a sip of his drink. "Huh. You know, that actually explains a lot." A ghost of a smile tugged the corners of the mans lips, the haunted look behind his eyes growing clearer before once again fading.
Ridley rolled over in the bed, pushing his hands behind his head as he studied the ceiling that rose almost impossibly high above their heads. Oz grunted softly in his sleep, causing a small smile to flicker across Ridley's face, before he turned his thoughts back to the past.
He didn't even know how it had happened really one minute Oz was walking him home, the next it was a brand knew day, which turned into night, and yet he couldn't get the redhead out of his mind. Memories of what he had turned himself into flickering through his mind as he tried to sleep.
It was late that night that he'd shifted in his bed, sliding from the sheets and walking over towards his window. He'd heard something in the alley below, and was terrified that it was another vampire. Or worse, that it was something else. He breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted oz, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, looking up at him. He didn't call up, merely gestured with his head, asking if Ridley was going to join him.
It didn't take long for them to have finished wondering the streets, looking for people to save, before they found themselves back at Oz's place again. And Ridley had found himself slightly surprised at just how fast he'd managed to accept the world he now found himself thrust into. One were all those scary stories from when you were a kid, were actually real. And there were people like Oz out there, who spent most of their time searching out the innocents who found themselves at the mercy at some form of evil or another.
Ridley had become fascinated at what Oz often turned himself into when he found something to hunt, to kill. In some ways, he thought Oz did it because he knew what the world was really like, and couldn't just sit back and do nothing. In other ways, he had watched as the animal that his companion turned into, seemed joyed at the thought of the death it caused, almost child like in it's glee for blood, for the hunt, for the capture.
But that haunted look always returned to his eyes when he changed back. Almost as if he hunted so for a few seconds, just those precious few, he was no longer haunted by the images that often pulled him out of sleep, often caused the shorter man to be silent for full days at a time.
It had taken a long time for them to build up to the relationship they now had. At first it was just a kiss, in the heat after a battle, after Ridley had started to join in the fight. He adrenaline that coursed through them both, demanding some for of release right then and there. Over time, it was more than kissing; it was savagely holding each other under the blanket of nighttime, strong hands gripping shoulders, backs and buttocks. Then came the groping, until finally, one night, Ridley had just said he wanted Oz to fuck him, and to fuck him back in return.
And they had.
It still wasn't like any of the relationships Ridley had ever had before, were he often flittered between both sexes to quell the urges that over took him sometimes. The frenzy they both went into after hunting was savage and brutal, the need to release over whelming their common senses until it calmed. And then it was soft, gentle, almost loving.
Ridley wasn't stupid, he had no delusions; they weren't in love with each other. They calmed and tempered each other. Oz balancing out the nervous fidgeting he was prone to do, while Ridley himself caused Oz to talk more than just monosyllabic sentences.
They hunted, they worked when they had to, they fucked each other when the need arose in them, they shared a place together. And they flickered over the world, bouncing from country to country as they became bored with one place and excited about another. Not that Oz ever really got excited.
They'd gone all over the world, in the four years they'd known each other, to every country, every state, every province. All except one. They had never been to California. It was the one place that was completely of-limits to him. Other than that, he could pick wherever he wanted in the world.
There was a soft tapping on the door, causing Oz to snuffle in his sleep and turn himself over, burying his face into the pillow. Ridley smiled softly again, as he pulled himself from under the sheets and pulled on a pair of boxers. They were currently in tieland, almost melting in the heat that surrounded them.
Softly, silently, he pulled open the door and smiled at the woman stood there waiting for entrance. He never knew her name, didn't know anything about, except tat she was one of the founding members of the Slayer's council. Her companion nodded her greeting at him and leaned back against the hall wall, folding her arms and shifting her gaze rapidly down the corridor. She was one of the slayers.
The redhead who quietly slipped in through the small opening in the door, brushed past him and through to the main area of the apartment, opening her bag as she went. She stopped suddenly at her first sight of the man in the bed, his stark white back shining in the light that came in through the windows.
She always did this whenever she came. And it was always when he was asleep, never when Oz was awake. From what Ridley could gather from the redhead's companion, her and Oz had known each other way back when. But that was all he knew, other than she was a very, very powerful witch.
"Has he got any Netcum Drape left?" he knew this, because she was constantly talking to him inside of his head.
"No, he ran out yesterday." The redhead nodded, pulling out four bottles from her bag and placing them silently on the dresser with all the rest of them, dipping back into her bag and pulling out another charm and draping it over the corner of the mirror. She turned to him, looking at him as she pointed to the charm. This one's for the two nights before the full moon. Tell him it's stronger than the Risis one he's got. It'll stop the pounding in his head." Ridley nodded, watching as the redhead took one last look at his over, smiling against and heading back over to him, pulling something else out of her bag and handing it to him. "There's enough money in there till next month. Call us if you're shifting again. And, don't forget to take your potion every two days, ok?"
He nodded, flickering his eyes back towards the dresser, looking straight at the bottle filled with a gooey white substance that was just for him. He shook his head out, leading the woman back to the door and pulling it open, not surprised in the least to see that her companion picking at her fingernails with the tip of a knife.
The redhead stepped out of the apartment and twisted around, giving him a quick but firm hug, before she nodded to the slayer and they walked silently out into the night.
He walked back into the room, picking up the bottle of potion and staring at it intently. Two years ago, they'd had a run in with a sort of plant demon. Its head was like a bulbous flower head, waiting to spring forth and blossom in the sun. Only it never did, not unless it was going to eat you. And its arms were like vines, with small purple flowers attached every foot of the way up them.
They hadn't known at the time, but the needles from those purple flowers were poisonous. They had known seconds after one of them had hit Ridley in the side of the neck. Almost immediately it started t change him, with every move his made he could feel something burning underneath his skin, as if every time he shifted his muscles, the poison wormed its way deeper into his body. So he stopped moving, watching as Oz ripped the demon to pieces, before coming over to him, changing as he went and stopped in front of him.
"Sorry Rid. It's gotta be done." Oz had gone over to their bag and pulled out their weapons and a long length of rope. They'd started carrying that after they'd had to jump off a building in Iraq. Moving quickly, efficiently, the shorter man had lashed up Ridley's entire body with the rope, using axes, stakes and sword sheaths to keep him from moving.
It was then that he introduced Ridley to an even deeper world of the super natural. He'd carried him four blocks down the streets of London, turning a corner and walking straight to a plain door. He knocked a brick with his knuckles and it sprang open, revealing a palm-scanning pad beneath.
His prints were instantly recognisable and the door slid open, revealing an almost stark white and sterile hallway beyond. He'd taken him deep under ground, down endless hall after endless hall, until he reached huge double, wooden doors. Another palm scanner stood to the side, which Oz pressed his hand against and stood very still, as a device shot out of the wall and pressed itself to Oz's eye. A retina scanner.
When the doors opened and blonde woman and a raven-haired woman were waiting for them. No one said a word; they just shifted Ridley about until they were each carrying his weight evenly, and walked him to one of the rooms at the back.
"We've got it Oz." The raven-haired woman said, her Bostonian accent curling around the room. "We'll get Red to sort him out. How's about you go get some food?" Oz nodded, looking down at him and smiling encouragingly at him, before he left the room, leaving him with the blonde and the brunette. Whom he later found out were the original slayers. The ones to started everything off.
It was then that he'd met the redheaded woman and her silent companion. They'd spent hours checking him out, pushing potion after potion into his body, hoping to find a cure for the venom. But it was hopeless. Until the raven-haired slayer spoke up.
"Well, from all these tests, the only thing that's changed so far is his strength. And speed, from the readouts. That gives him a better edge in the field, right?"
"Yeah, but at what expensive Faith? His life? Oz's?" the blonde shook her head as she leaned back against the table he was lying on.
"No dumbass, I didn't mean that. I meant, seem as though we can't find a cure for this fucking thing, how's about we just... freeze it. Stop it doing any more damage." The room had fallen silent, until the redhead grinned and ruffled Faith's hair.
"When did you get so smart?"
"Er.. when you started making me read maybe?" the small group shared a chuckle between them, before settling to work on the potion.
He sighed softly, dropping the potion back to the dresser and leaning back against it, folding his arms over his chest as his eyes, once again, found his lovers body. As it turned out, both he and Oz had been working for the Slayers Council ever since... ever. Oz had always worked for them, moving around, dealing with threats, getting paid and looked after by them. He'd been working for them ever since he'd thrown in his old life, and actually refused to deny the existence of the super natural.
The redhead had finally come up with a potion that literally froze the poison within his blood stream, not removing his new, more enhanced abilities, but not turning him into some form of demon, that his lover would not doubt end up killing one day.
"I know, you know." Oz's voice spilled out over the room, causing Ridley to jump slightly.
"Know what?"
"That she comes here. Gives you the potion, gives me more stuff. Pays us."
"I always figured you were asleep."
"I am. Mostly. But I wake up, and I can smell her in the room." A silence fell between them as the red-haired man turned himself in the bed, pushing himself up against the head board and scrubbing his hair and face with the palms of his hands. "Why didn't you ever tell me Rid?"
The tall, blonde haired man shrugged, resting his hands against the edge of the dresser as he looked out of the window. "I dunno. I guess, I always sensed you tense up whenever she was near."
"You've never asked why." Once again Ridley shrugged, bringing his eyes back to his lovers.
"Not my business to ask. Besides, I figured if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me."
Oz starred at him for a long moment, before a very soft smile tugged up the corners of his lips. He held out his hand for the blonde and his smile grew as Ridley made he way over to him, almost tripping over a stack of books on his way.
Without words, Ridley climbed in-between the sheets and took Oz's hand as the shorter man draped his arm over his shoulders, squeezing him softly before shuffling down slightly and leaning his head back against the wall.
They'd spent four years in comfortable compatibility, and while both of them knew it was relaxing and nice to have, they both knew that something inside of them, called out to each other. Maybe it was wanting to save those who cannot save themselves, maybe it was how they balanced and complimented each other. Or maybe it was because, at one point or another, they'd had their heart shattered, and knew that with each other that would never happen.
Or maybe it was just because.
Ridley didn't have all the answers, and had an epiphany that maybe he never would. Whatever it was that held them together, it worked. There was no need to over analyse everything, no need to run over the past, looking for something he'd maybe missed that could tell him, exactly why they worked so well.
And who was he to question, the best thing that had ever happened to him?