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Description
The asshole never did what Worth told him. The doctor left very specific instructions for Lamont. He knew the kid could read. He knew the idiot had seen the instructions-he'd /moved/ the note damnit!-but he never followed directions.

Worth stood in his rundown office. He had a recently bandaged hand on one hip. The other hand hovered in front of his face. It shook as he looked at the note and then back to the pile of boxes.

Lamont was just pissed Worth hadn't been home. Usually they did a casual lunch thing after Lamont made a delivery. Most of the time this consisted of ordering Chinese as both Worth and Lamont were too smart to eat anything that had been in /that/ kitchen. This time Worth had to make one of his once-in-a-blue-fucking-moon house calls. Lamont had been on his own.

Instead of neatly stacking the boxes as Worth had asked, Lamont had decided to decorate. If you could call the haphazard assortment of pieces decorating. What little was left of Worth's heart was almost worried. Lamont was pretty careful with his deliveries-hopefully nothing had happened.

Though, if it had, the kid deserved it. What if the boxes were fragile? Asshole.

"Wank." Worth grumbled to no-one. His cigarette bounced.

He crumpled up the note and tossed it over his shoulder. Approaching the boxes he picked one up and set it on the floor. Pushing up the sleeves of his faux fur lined coat he opened the box.

"Oh fer fuck's sake!" He growled. It did indeed look like the boxes had been thrown against the wall. Worth reached in and pulled out a lone scalpel.

"'s gonna take me forever to unpack." He hissed. He looked around the office as if looking for someone to take his frustrations out on. He was-however fortunately for his supposed target-alone.

He begrudgingly began pulling objects out of the box and setting them along the counter and floor. At first he had a system going. At first it was unpacking with a semi-organized purpose in mind. However by the bottom of the second box his office had turned into a mess of various scattered instruments.

Worth stood up and winced at the sound of both knees popping. He wasn't as young as he thought he was. Maybe it was time to pull out his birth certificate and remind himself of exactly what his birth date was.

He lashed out and kicked the empty box across the linoleum. He hesitated in opening a fourth box as the discarded cardboard hit the wall and jingled. He'd left something in there.

He rubbed at the back of his sore neck and approached the box. Looking reproachfully into the abused-and now sideways-cardboard a single copper gear rolled out. The gear, which was only a little larger than a quarter, rolled in a circle in front of Worth's shoe before toppling over.

He sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He was going to need more cigarettes-lots more. Unfortunately as he reached into his coat pocket-slow at first and then growing more frantic as he went through his multitude of pockets-he remembered that he'd lit his last cigarette when he'd first laid eyes on the mess of boxes.

"Fuckin' hell."

Worth threw his hands into the air in exasperation. /Leave it to fuckin' Lamont to bloody screw up th' rest of my day!/

Worth left his office with a huff. He didn't bother locking the door either-he never did. The only people who would break in were the people he serviced on a regular basis. Either they would take what they needed and left or they would pace around like idiots until he got back. That was, of course, provided they just needed supplies and not his special brand of handiwork.

He grinned to himself a little.

There was a convenience store not far from his alleyway. It was run by a man who spoke next to no English but he took Worth's money and sold Worth's brand--Non filtered Commander King--so he couldn't care less about communication.

He shouldered his way into the shop and went about his business. There were a few other patrons but they kept to themselves. Worth stuck out like a sore thumb. He was tall, thin as a rake and…/old./

He lifted a brow as the thought struck him. He looked around again at all the punks in the shop. Yes. He was easily double the age of any one of them. His upper lip twitched a bit at this.

He approached the counter. The cashier was busy talking to a fellow employee. Worth, being the kind hearted and patient man everyone knew him to be, wasted no time in tapping on the counter.

"Hate t' interrupt yer little sensitivity session but I jus' need some bloody fags."

"E-excuse me?"

Worth-now leaning on his elbows on the counter-narrowed his eyes.

"Fags? Ah, cigarettes ya bloody import." He grumbled. "It's slang."

"Yes. But I do not think it means what you think it means." The cashier offered. Worth supposed he thought he was trying to be helpful. Worth wasn't about to take lessons on slang from a rag-head.

"I don' come here for conversation. Just gimme th' damned /smokes/."

The cashier narrowed his eyes slightly. However he recognized Worth, the doctor was in a lot, and he wasn't about to lose a consistent customer. He ducked behind the counter and popped up with a carton of un filtered.

"Yeah. 's what I thought." Worth grumbled. He slapped a few bills on the counter. He snatched the carton from the cashier's hands and gave an off-handed wave.

He hated social dealings. That's what Lamont was for most days. Worth dealt with a specific clientele. /They/ came to /him/ for things and not the other way around.

As he stepped out into the cool evening air he ripped open the pack. He pulled out a single stick and dropped the carton into a long pocket. As he reached down for his lighter he let his eyes scan the crowd. They locked in on a target just across the street and moving fast.

Achenleck. Conrad.

A dangerous smirk spread from around the cigarette. Worth needed some cheering up. Snaggletooth just had impeccable timing.

Worth started across the street and then paused. Conrad hadn't noticed him yet. In fact the artfag looked like he hadn't noticed much of anything. Worth lit his cigarette and cocked his head to one side.

He and Conrad had been doing the horizontal mambo-among other things-for almost a month and a half now. He was starting to consider himself deceptively familiar with the vampire's body language. Something was up.

Worth huddled himself back against the window of the convenience store. He slouched his shoulders-more than usual-and the fur at his neck puffed up like an angry cat. He fixed his eyes on Conrad and waited.

The once-living youth moved swiftly to the corner of the road. He stopped and shoved his hands into his pockets. He seemed to be simply waiting for something as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Worth knew better.

All Conrad had to do was take a left turn and he'd be practically on Worth's doorstep. Conrad had already gotten a week's supply of blood. He had /no reason/ to be visiting other than something sentimental. Or hormonal-vampires still had those. Especially the ones connected to the sex drive.

Worth's smirk slithered silently into a sinister suggestion.

Conrad had come looking for Worth-or at least had started in that direction-for something other than sustenance. The Doc was getting to the artfag. It was heart-warming, really.

As Worth continued to watch Conrad made a move. He took a few steps towards the alleyway. Conrad paused and balled his hands into fists at his sides. Worth could almost hear the internal conflict.

Worth blinked in surprise as Conrad turned and took out apparent frustration on a nearby wall. He pulled his fist away and shook it. His lips parted and Worth's mind conjured up a fittingly pathetic noise to accompany it.

He pried himself away from the glass at his back as Conrad turned and started walking away. Apparently he had decided not to pay the doctor a visit. Worth wondered idly what Conrad would have done had he reached the office and found Worth absent.

The doctor shrugged to himself and turned down the alleyway. He hesitated. He placed both feet on the ground and looked in the direction Conrad had gone.

/If he's not coming here for his booty call…where th' fuck is he goin'?/

Worth's smirk returned and he stepped out of the alleyway. He didn't have anything scheduled for tonight. He knew he'd get plenty of ammo if he tailed the vampire anyway.

It didn't take a genius to spot Conrad in a crowd. Worth's height helped him a little. Conrad's ebony hair wove in and out of the crowd. He seemed to be trying to swim upstream. Either that or he just so happened to be lucky enough to find the busiest street to walk up.

Worth dodged shoulders expertly as he followed. He kept enough distance that Conrad would not be able to see him immediately if he turned.

It didn't seem to the doctor as if Conrad had a specific destination in mind. He would speed up and slow down for no particular reason. He stood for far too long at crosswalks. He even had the audacity to spend a few moments staring longingly into some storefront shops. Only Conrad would be enough of a jerk to do nothing of any importance while being followed.

Worth was easily able to convince himself on a base level that he was simply following Conrad for blackmail. If he actually witnessed the vampire wet himself over a Mac product or willingly do one of the many things Worth accused him of it would make the doctor's night.

A spinning in his head and a twist in his gut told him that wasn't true but Worth was good at ignoring himself and those little irritating things his body tried to tell him.

Like eating and sleeping.

Worth sped up a little as Conrad ducked down a side street. He popped his head around the corner and immediately ducked back. Conrad had chosen an empty street. Worth tipped his head back around the corner just slightly.

Conrad again struck at brick with his bare fist. This time he left his knuckles there and pressed his forehead against the wall. Worth saw his lips moving around his always pronounced fang but the doctor was no damned lip reader.

Though judging by the pitiful look on Conrad's face it had probably been good. The vampire reached up and placed his free palm flat against the brick.

Worth studied him for a moment more. His eyes traveled the curve in Conrad's spine. A slight tingle in his pants caused him to turn and lean against his own section of the brick wall.

He concentrated on nursing his cigarette as he waited for Conrad to make his next move. No one passing paid any attention to the man in the furred coat. No one also seemed to care that there was a young man losing a fight to the brick wall next to the dumpster just a street down.

About half-way through his cigarette Conrad emerged. Worth stood still-though he made no attempt to hide himself-as Conrad looked both ways before rejoining the crowd of the living. Worth waited a second or two before peeling himself off the wall and following.

The night proceeded as such for a few hours. Worth kept himself out of direct eyeshot but made no attempts to completely hide himself. He managed to prove that Conrad was sufficiently distracted. The vampire had said himself that though his preternatural senses weren't top of the line, he could smell Worth a mile away.

Worth had gotten a good chuckle out of watching Conrad attempt to blend in. The dark haired man had taken a seat at a café he apparently frequented. The young waitress seemed to know Conrad by face, name and order. When she delivered the coffee to his seat in the outdoor patio she'd stayed a moment to flirt.

Worth was fairly certain Conrad was oblivious to her advances…until she spilled the coffee-with purpose-right into Conrad's lap. Worth knew that the image of the dance and the echo of the shriek would give him ammo for a day or two.

Conrad had obviously left the café shortly after, much to the waitress' chagrin. He had done another hour's worth of wandering before ducking into what appeared to be an abandoned building. Worth had waited outside and across the street for a good fifteen minutes. He kept expecting Conrad to come running out of the dilapidated structure chased by whatever his streak of bad luck conjured up. Worth was disappointed when thirty minutes passed with no such luck.

He was already on his fourth cigarette by this point. He cast a few quick glances down the street before following Conrad into the building. There were a few homeless men sleeping on boxes but other than that no life or activity.

Worth 'humphed' to himself and scratched at the back of his neck.

Had Conrad ditched him somehow? It didn't seem likely.

As Worth contemplated where his prey had gone he heard a door opening upstairs. He cocked his head to one side and listened as the door closed again. Conrad had gone up.

Worth frowned over his cigarette. Following the artfag to the roof might give him away. However he knew he might also miss out on a golden opportunity. What if Conrad had gone up to try the bat thing? Worth wouldn't want to miss /that/ for the world.

Sucking up the fact that his fun might be over Worth ascended the stairs. None of the squatters so much as batted an eyelash.

Worth climbed the stairs slowly. He paused every few steps to cock his head and listen. There was nothing but the ghostly sounds of a run-down building.

The door to the roof was slightly ajar. As Worth reached out to grab it he ran his hands down the side. The lock was jammed. He glanced up the stairwell. It was dark and enclosed but the light from the nearly full moon clearly showed it was empty.

Had Worth already missed Conrad the Bat? The idea felt sour. The doctor entered the stairwell quietly. He let the door close as much as possible behind him.

Once sure no one could see him in either direction he dropped to all fours. He made his way slowly up the stairs, one hand or foot at a time. Eventually he froze. Around the corner he saw Conrad.

He was not attempting to transform or doing anything else even remotely interesting. He had perched himself on the ledge of the roof. His legs dangled over the ledge. His head was tilted back and upwards just the slightest bit.

He looked to be moonbathing.

Worth settled himself down on a stair. He leaned back against the wall and waited. He waited until the light on the end of his cigarette threatened to burn a hole into his lip. The stick fell from his lips and landed on the stair between his legs.

Worth shifted himself a little. He tipped his head back against the wall as the minutes ticked by. He studied Conrad's position once more. The same tingle he'd felt watching him in the alley returned. The doctor shook his head a little and chuckled soundlessly. It had been a while since he'd felt that without having to slice himself open first.

Within the next fifteen minutes Doc Worth fell asleep. His lanky vulture-like body was pulled up tight against the wall, sprawled down the stairs.

Conrad maintained his watch on the sky for another few hours still. He wasn't sure what he was trying to do. It seemed his luck just got worse and worse.

He watched light pinks and oranges pop up like flowers on the horizon. His thoughts were well-guarded. He was sure to any knowledgeable onlookers it would have seemed like a suicide attempt-and truth be told he wasn't sure it /wasn't/.

He lost his nerve however when his stomach tried to jump out of his throat. The sky had gone from freckled to nearly daylight in a matter of seconds. Conrad scrambled backwards and away from the ledge. He nearly fell flat on his face.

He leapt up and took a few steps backwards towards the stairs. His eyes were still locked on the orb rising slowly over the horizon. He lifted his hand to block the light of the sun.

He heard the hissing before he actually felt he burn. But the burn jolted him back to his senses.

"Ah! Fuck!" He hissed. He pulled his hand in against his chest. Cradling his burn against his collarbone he tore down the stairs. He barely missed tripping over the bum sleeping in the stair well. He was too preoccupied with instinctual thoughts of self preservation to apologize.

He sprinted down through the old building until he reached the basement door. He threw it open as quickly as possible and prepared to barricade himself inside for the night.

Worth was jostled awake by the sounds and sights of a vampire fleeing for his life. He rubbed at his eyes and stood. He looked back out to the roof and lifted his brows.

Morning.

Conrad had cut it close. He rubbed the back of his neck and let his eyes walk the path Conrad had run. Had it been an accident that snaggletooth had nearly been fried or had his unlife just become that bad?

Whatever the reason, he hadn't been turned to ash.

Worth adjusted his lopsided coat and followed Conrad's path. He hadn't seen where the vampire had run but he wasn't an idiot. He gave a nod to one of the homeless men as he approached the door to the basement.

"That…No one uses that anymore. It's…dangerous down there."

"Dangerous?" Worth asked as the homeless man decided to play Good Samaritan. "Why'd'ya say that?"

The squatter shrugged.

"People go down and don't come back up."

"Ah. Righ'." Worth ignored the look on the man's face. He opened the door and stepped inside.

"Cutting it close, puppy." He greeted.

Conrad leapt about a foot in the air and turned around. He jabbed an accusing finger into the doctor's chest.

"You scared the fuck out of me!"

"You know you really are th' worst bloody vampire in th' world."

Conrad growled unintelligibly. He threw his arms into the air and put his back to Worth.

"Please for the love of…whatever it is you might hold dear…please tell me you did not come down here to bug me all-Wait." Conrad cast a glance over his shoulder. "What in /fuck/ are you doing here, Worth? How did you find me?"

"Ya burned yer hand." Worth replied with a knowing smirk. He watched as Conrad stared for a moment and then lifted his hand. The vampire sneered as he regarded the burn. Conrad dropped his hand and waved dismissively with the other.

"Answer my question, asshole."

"Yer not gonna let a doctor look at that? Might need treated." Worth continued to dodge the subject. Conrad's face almost turned red.

"You're /not/ a doctor! You're a dropout."

Worth's grin split into a smile. He held out his hand and lifted a brow. Conrad made a strange series of noises as he attempted a retort. Worth heard the beginnings of lots of words but none of them were near complete. With one last humph Conrad dropped his hand into Worth's with as much anger as he could.

Worth gave a powerful tug and inched Conrad closer. He lifted the vampire's hand to his eyes. He heard Conrad grunt in response.

"Nice one, princess. 'll prob'bly scar."

"Yeah well, you would know wouldn't you?"

The duo met eyes for a moment. Conrad's eyebrows met in the middle as Worth grinned wider. As Worth kept Conrad's eyes busy he reached up with his free hand and poked the sensitive burn.

"Gaah!" Conrad recoiled instantly. He clutched his hand to his chest.

"Asshole!" He barked.

Worth shrugged. He shoved his hands into his pants pocket. His coat pushed behind him like folded wings. He began to walk the perimeter of the basement.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?"

"Hmm?"

"How. Did. You. Fucking. Find. Me."

"I follow'd ya." Worth answered nonchalant.

"You…you followed me?" Conrad hissed. "How the hell can you say that so casually? 'I followed you.' What the hell were you doing following me? Wait…how long were you following me?"

Worth turned to look at Conrad from the far corner of the room. The vampire looked ready to rip the doctor to shreds. Had he been a cartoon the steam would have been billowing from his ears. Worth smiled.

"Since ya chicken'd out 'bout stoppin' in fer a visit when ya clearly didn't need th' blood."

Conrad pointed accusingly at Worth. He opened his mouth to speak. He shut it. His stiffened up like a cat. He opened his mouth again. He shut it. He lowered his hand and balled them both into fists. He put his back to Worth. He shoved his fingers into his hair and let out a shout of frustration.

Worth watched the display with a look of triumph and amusement. He slowly lowered himself to sit on what appeared to be concrete. After a moment of hard panting which was done only to illustrate his frustration, Conrad turned to address Worth.

"You piss me off to the point where words just don't cut it anymore."

Worth cocked his head and lifted a brow.

"Ya gonna show me then?"

"I should kill you."

"Oh?"

"It's what I'm supposed to do now, isn't it!" The distraught undead creature threw his hands into the air again. It was rather clear, however, that exhaustion was creeping in.

"I loathe you." He continued. "I'm sure I can just-just get the name of your delivery boy and get my…um…supplies from him. I don't even really /need/ you."

As Conrad spoke he made his way across the room until he was standing near to Worth. For his part the doctor said nothing. He kept his eyes on the ebony haired man, however, still grinning.

"Ya could." He offered.

"I-I could even find a better fuck than you I bet. Someone who doesn't need to be bleeding from every orifice to get off."

"Mmhmm." Worth added, still amused.

"We don't even really have a relationship so it's not like…like I'd miss you for anything."

Worth nodded as Conrad slumped into a seated position. He'd put them close enough so that their shoulders brushed.

"I don't know why I can't. Kill you, that is." Conrad sighed.

Worth shrugged.

"Got me, puppy."

"Shut up."

Description
The asshole never did what Worth told him. The doctor left very specific instructions for Lamont. He knew the kid could read. He knew the idiot had seen the instructions-he'd /moved/ the note damnit!-but he never followed directions.

Worth stood in his rundown office. He had a recently bandaged hand on one hip. The other hand hovered in front of his face. It shook as he looked at the note and then back to the pile of boxes.

Lamont was just pissed Worth hadn't been home. Usually they did a casual lunch thing after Lamont made a delivery. Most of the time this consisted of ordering Chinese as both Worth and Lamont were too smart to eat anything that had been in /that/ kitchen. This time Worth had to make one of his once-in-a-blue-fucking-moon house calls. Lamont had been on his own.

Instead of neatly stacking the boxes as Worth had asked, Lamont had decided to decorate. If you could call the haphazard assortment of pieces decorating. What little was left of Worth's heart was almost worried. Lamont was pretty careful with his deliveries-hopefully nothing had happened.

Though, if it had, the kid deserved it. What if the boxes were fragile? Asshole.

"Wank." Worth grumbled to no-one. His cigarette bounced.

He crumpled up the note and tossed it over his shoulder. Approaching the boxes he picked one up and set it on the floor. Pushing up the sleeves of his faux fur lined coat he opened the box.

"Oh fer fuck's sake!" He growled. It did indeed look like the boxes had been thrown against the wall. Worth reached in and pulled out a lone scalpel.

"'s gonna take me forever to unpack." He hissed. He looked around the office as if looking for someone to take his frustrations out on. He was-however fortunately for his supposed target-alone.

He begrudgingly began pulling objects out of the box and setting them along the counter and floor. At first he had a system going. At first it was unpacking with a semi-organized purpose in mind. However by the bottom of the second box his office had turned into a mess of various scattered instruments.

Worth stood up and winced at the sound of both knees popping. He wasn't as young as he thought he was. Maybe it was time to pull out his birth certificate and remind himself of exactly what his birth date was.

He lashed out and kicked the empty box across the linoleum. He hesitated in opening a fourth box as the discarded cardboard hit the wall and jingled. He'd left something in there.

He rubbed at the back of his sore neck and approached the box. Looking reproachfully into the abused-and now sideways-cardboard a single copper gear rolled out. The gear, which was only a little larger than a quarter, rolled in a circle in front of Worth's shoe before toppling over.

He sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He was going to need more cigarettes-lots more. Unfortunately as he reached into his coat pocket-slow at first and then growing more frantic as he went through his multitude of pockets-he remembered that he'd lit his last cigarette when he'd first laid eyes on the mess of boxes.

"Fuckin' hell."

Worth threw his hands into the air in exasperation. /Leave it to fuckin' Lamont to bloody screw up th' rest of my day!/

Worth left his office with a huff. He didn't bother locking the door either-he never did. The only people who would break in were the people he serviced on a regular basis. Either they would take what they needed and left or they would pace around like idiots until he got back. That was, of course, provided they just needed supplies and not his special brand of handiwork.

He grinned to himself a little.

There was a convenience store not far from his alleyway. It was run by a man who spoke next to no English but he took Worth's money and sold Worth's brand--Non filtered Commander King--so he couldn't care less about communication.

He shouldered his way into the shop and went about his business. There were a few other patrons but they kept to themselves. Worth stuck out like a sore thumb. He was tall, thin as a rake and…/old./

He lifted a brow as the thought struck him. He looked around again at all the punks in the shop. Yes. He was easily double the age of any one of them. His upper lip twitched a bit at this.

He approached the counter. The cashier was busy talking to a fellow employee. Worth, being the kind hearted and patient man everyone knew him to be, wasted no time in tapping on the counter.

"Hate t' interrupt yer little sensitivity session but I jus' need some bloody fags."

"E-excuse me?"

Worth-now leaning on his elbows on the counter-narrowed his eyes.

"Fags? Ah, cigarettes ya bloody import." He grumbled. "It's slang."

"Yes. But I do not think it means what you think it means." The cashier offered. Worth supposed he thought he was trying to be helpful. Worth wasn't about to take lessons on slang from a rag-head.

"I don' come here for conversation. Just gimme th' damned /smokes/."

The cashier narrowed his eyes slightly. However he recognized Worth, the doctor was in a lot, and he wasn't about to lose a consistent customer. He ducked behind the counter and popped up with a carton of un filtered.

"Yeah. 's what I thought." Worth grumbled. He slapped a few bills on the counter. He snatched the carton from the cashier's hands and gave an off-handed wave.

He hated social dealings. That's what Lamont was for most days. Worth dealt with a specific clientele. /They/ came to /him/ for things and not the other way around.

As he stepped out into the cool evening air he ripped open the pack. He pulled out a single stick and dropped the carton into a long pocket. As he reached down for his lighter he let his eyes scan the crowd. They locked in on a target just across the street and moving fast.

Achenleck. Conrad.

A dangerous smirk spread from around the cigarette. Worth needed some cheering up. Snaggletooth just had impeccable timing.

Worth started across the street and then paused. Conrad hadn't noticed him yet. In fact the artfag looked like he hadn't noticed much of anything. Worth lit his cigarette and cocked his head to one side.

He and Conrad had been doing the horizontal mambo-among other things-for almost a month and a half now. He was starting to consider himself deceptively familiar with the vampire's body language. Something was up.

Worth huddled himself back against the window of the convenience store. He slouched his shoulders-more than usual-and the fur at his neck puffed up like an angry cat. He fixed his eyes on Conrad and waited.

The once-living youth moved swiftly to the corner of the road. He stopped and shoved his hands into his pockets. He seemed to be simply waiting for something as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Worth knew better.

All Conrad had to do was take a left turn and he'd be practically on Worth's doorstep. Conrad had already gotten a week's supply of blood. He had /no reason/ to be visiting other than something sentimental. Or hormonal-vampires still had those. Especially the ones connected to the sex drive.

Worth's smirk slithered silently into a sinister suggestion.

Conrad had come looking for Worth-or at least had started in that direction-for something other than sustenance. The Doc was getting to the artfag. It was heart-warming, really.

As Worth continued to watch Conrad made a move. He took a few steps towards the alleyway. Conrad paused and balled his hands into fists at his sides. Worth could almost hear the internal conflict.

Worth blinked in surprise as Conrad turned and took out apparent frustration on a nearby wall. He pulled his fist away and shook it. His lips parted and Worth's mind conjured up a fittingly pathetic noise to accompany it.

He pried himself away from the glass at his back as Conrad turned and started walking away. Apparently he had decided not to pay the doctor a visit. Worth wondered idly what Conrad would have done had he reached the office and found Worth absent.

The doctor shrugged to himself and turned down the alleyway. He hesitated. He placed both feet on the ground and looked in the direction Conrad had gone.

/If he's not coming here for his booty call…where th' fuck is he goin'?/

Worth's smirk returned and he stepped out of the alleyway. He didn't have anything scheduled for tonight. He knew he'd get plenty of ammo if he tailed the vampire anyway.

It didn't take a genius to spot Conrad in a crowd. Worth's height helped him a little. Conrad's ebony hair wove in and out of the crowd. He seemed to be trying to swim upstream. Either that or he just so happened to be lucky enough to find the busiest street to walk up.

Worth dodged shoulders expertly as he followed. He kept enough distance that Conrad would not be able to see him immediately if he turned.

It didn't seem to the doctor as if Conrad had a specific destination in mind. He would speed up and slow down for no particular reason. He stood for far too long at crosswalks. He even had the audacity to spend a few moments staring longingly into some storefront shops. Only Conrad would be enough of a jerk to do nothing of any importance while being followed.

Worth was easily able to convince himself on a base level that he was simply following Conrad for blackmail. If he actually witnessed the vampire wet himself over a Mac product or willingly do one of the many things Worth accused him of it would make the doctor's night.

A spinning in his head and a twist in his gut told him that wasn't true but Worth was good at ignoring himself and those little irritating things his body tried to tell him.

Like eating and sleeping.

Worth sped up a little as Conrad ducked down a side street. He popped his head around the corner and immediately ducked back. Conrad had chosen an empty street. Worth tipped his head back around the corner just slightly.

Conrad again struck at brick with his bare fist. This time he left his knuckles there and pressed his forehead against the wall. Worth saw his lips moving around his always pronounced fang but the doctor was no damned lip reader.

Though judging by the pitiful look on Conrad's face it had probably been good. The vampire reached up and placed his free palm flat against the brick.

Worth studied him for a moment more. His eyes traveled the curve in Conrad's spine. A slight tingle in his pants caused him to turn and lean against his own section of the brick wall.

He concentrated on nursing his cigarette as he waited for Conrad to make his next move. No one passing paid any attention to the man in the furred coat. No one also seemed to care that there was a young man losing a fight to the brick wall next to the dumpster just a street down.

About half-way through his cigarette Conrad emerged. Worth stood still-though he made no attempt to hide himself-as Conrad looked both ways before rejoining the crowd of the living. Worth waited a second or two before peeling himself off the wall and following.

The night proceeded as such for a few hours. Worth kept himself out of direct eyeshot but made no attempts to completely hide himself. He managed to prove that Conrad was sufficiently distracted. The vampire had said himself that though his preternatural senses weren't top of the line, he could smell Worth a mile away.

Worth had gotten a good chuckle out of watching Conrad attempt to blend in. The dark haired man had taken a seat at a café he apparently frequented. The young waitress seemed to know Conrad by face, name and order. When she delivered the coffee to his seat in the outdoor patio she'd stayed a moment to flirt.

Worth was fairly certain Conrad was oblivious to her advances…until she spilled the coffee-with purpose-right into Conrad's lap. Worth knew that the image of the dance and the echo of the shriek would give him ammo for a day or two.

Conrad had obviously left the café shortly after, much to the waitress' chagrin. He had done another hour's worth of wandering before ducking into what appeared to be an abandoned building. Worth had waited outside and across the street for a good fifteen minutes. He kept expecting Conrad to come running out of the dilapidated structure chased by whatever his streak of bad luck conjured up. Worth was disappointed when thirty minutes passed with no such luck.

He was already on his fourth cigarette by this point. He cast a few quick glances down the street before following Conrad into the building. There were a few homeless men sleeping on boxes but other than that no life or activity.

Worth 'humphed' to himself and scratched at the back of his neck.

Had Conrad ditched him somehow? It didn't seem likely.

As Worth contemplated where his prey had gone he heard a door opening upstairs. He cocked his head to one side and listened as the door closed again. Conrad had gone up.

Worth frowned over his cigarette. Following the artfag to the roof might give him away. However he knew he might also miss out on a golden opportunity. What if Conrad had gone up to try the bat thing? Worth wouldn't want to miss /that/ for the world.

Sucking up the fact that his fun might be over Worth ascended the stairs. None of the squatters so much as batted an eyelash.

Worth climbed the stairs slowly. He paused every few steps to cock his head and listen. There was nothing but the ghostly sounds of a run-down building.

The door to the roof was slightly ajar. As Worth reached out to grab it he ran his hands down the side. The lock was jammed. He glanced up the stairwell. It was dark and enclosed but the light from the nearly full moon clearly showed it was empty.

Had Worth already missed Conrad the Bat? The idea felt sour. The doctor entered the stairwell quietly. He let the door close as much as possible behind him.

Once sure no one could see him in either direction he dropped to all fours. He made his way slowly up the stairs, one hand or foot at a time. Eventually he froze. Around the corner he saw Conrad.

He was not attempting to transform or doing anything else even remotely interesting. He had perched himself on the ledge of the roof. His legs dangled over the ledge. His head was tilted back and upwards just the slightest bit.

He looked to be moonbathing.

Worth settled himself down on a stair. He leaned back against the wall and waited. He waited until the light on the end of his cigarette threatened to burn a hole into his lip. The stick fell from his lips and landed on the stair between his legs.

Worth shifted himself a little. He tipped his head back against the wall as the minutes ticked by. He studied Conrad's position once more. The same tingle he'd felt watching him in the alley returned. The doctor shook his head a little and chuckled soundlessly. It had been a while since he'd felt that without having to slice himself open first.

Within the next fifteen minutes Doc Worth fell asleep. His lanky vulture-like body was pulled up tight against the wall, sprawled down the stairs.

Conrad maintained his watch on the sky for another few hours still. He wasn't sure what he was trying to do. It seemed his luck just got worse and worse.

He watched light pinks and oranges pop up like flowers on the horizon. His thoughts were well-guarded. He was sure to any knowledgeable onlookers it would have seemed like a suicide attempt-and truth be told he wasn't sure it /wasn't/.

He lost his nerve however when his stomach tried to jump out of his throat. The sky had gone from freckled to nearly daylight in a matter of seconds. Conrad scrambled backwards and away from the ledge. He nearly fell flat on his face.

He leapt up and took a few steps backwards towards the stairs. His eyes were still locked on the orb rising slowly over the horizon. He lifted his hand to block the light of the sun.

He heard the hissing before he actually felt he burn. But the burn jolted him back to his senses.

"Ah! Fuck!" He hissed. He pulled his hand in against his chest. Cradling his burn against his collarbone he tore down the stairs. He barely missed tripping over the bum sleeping in the stair well. He was too preoccupied with instinctual thoughts of self preservation to apologize.

He sprinted down through the old building until he reached the basement door. He threw it open as quickly as possible and prepared to barricade himself inside for the night.

Worth was jostled awake by the sounds and sights of a vampire fleeing for his life. He rubbed at his eyes and stood. He looked back out to the roof and lifted his brows.

Morning.

Conrad had cut it close. He rubbed the back of his neck and let his eyes walk the path Conrad had run. Had it been an accident that snaggletooth had nearly been fried or had his unlife just become that bad?

Whatever the reason, he hadn't been turned to ash.

Worth adjusted his lopsided coat and followed Conrad's path. He hadn't seen where the vampire had run but he wasn't an idiot. He gave a nod to one of the homeless men as he approached the door to the basement.

"That…No one uses that anymore. It's…dangerous down there."

"Dangerous?" Worth asked as the homeless man decided to play Good Samaritan. "Why'd'ya say that?"

The squatter shrugged.

"People go down and don't come back up."

"Ah. Righ'." Worth ignored the look on the man's face. He opened the door and stepped inside.

"Cutting it close, puppy." He greeted.

Conrad leapt about a foot in the air and turned around. He jabbed an accusing finger into the doctor's chest.

"You scared the fuck out of me!"

"You know you really are th' worst bloody vampire in th' world."

Conrad growled unintelligibly. He threw his arms into the air and put his back to Worth.

"Please for the love of…whatever it is you might hold dear…please tell me you did not come down here to bug me all-Wait." Conrad cast a glance over his shoulder. "What in /fuck/ are you doing here, Worth? How did you find me?"

"Ya burned yer hand." Worth replied with a knowing smirk. He watched as Conrad stared for a moment and then lifted his hand. The vampire sneered as he regarded the burn. Conrad dropped his hand and waved dismissively with the other.

"Answer my question, asshole."

"Yer not gonna let a doctor look at that? Might need treated." Worth continued to dodge the subject. Conrad's face almost turned red.

"You're /not/ a doctor! You're a dropout."

Worth's grin split into a smile. He held out his hand and lifted a brow. Conrad made a strange series of noises as he attempted a retort. Worth heard the beginnings of lots of words but none of them were near complete. With one last humph Conrad dropped his hand into Worth's with as much anger as he could.

Worth gave a powerful tug and inched Conrad closer. He lifted the vampire's hand to his eyes. He heard Conrad grunt in response.

"Nice one, princess. 'll prob'bly scar."

"Yeah well, you would know wouldn't you?"

The duo met eyes for a moment. Conrad's eyebrows met in the middle as Worth grinned wider. As Worth kept Conrad's eyes busy he reached up with his free hand and poked the sensitive burn.

"Gaah!" Conrad recoiled instantly. He clutched his hand to his chest.

"Asshole!" He barked.

Worth shrugged. He shoved his hands into his pants pocket. His coat pushed behind him like folded wings. He began to walk the perimeter of the basement.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?"

"Hmm?"

"How. Did. You. Fucking. Find. Me."

"I follow'd ya." Worth answered nonchalant.

"You…you followed me?" Conrad hissed. "How the hell can you say that so casually? 'I followed you.' What the hell were you doing following me? Wait…how long were you following me?"

Worth turned to look at Conrad from the far corner of the room. The vampire looked ready to rip the doctor to shreds. Had he been a cartoon the steam would have been billowing from his ears. Worth smiled.

"Since ya chicken'd out 'bout stoppin' in fer a visit when ya clearly didn't need th' blood."

Conrad pointed accusingly at Worth. He opened his mouth to speak. He shut it. His stiffened up like a cat. He opened his mouth again. He shut it. He lowered his hand and balled them both into fists. He put his back to Worth. He shoved his fingers into his hair and let out a shout of frustration.

Worth watched the display with a look of triumph and amusement. He slowly lowered himself to sit on what appeared to be concrete. After a moment of hard panting which was done only to illustrate his frustration, Conrad turned to address Worth.

"You piss me off to the point where words just don't cut it anymore."

Worth cocked his head and lifted a brow.

"Ya gonna show me then?"

"I should kill you."

"Oh?"

"It's what I'm supposed to do now, isn't it!" The distraught undead creature threw his hands into the air again. It was rather clear, however, that exhaustion was creeping in.

"I loathe you." He continued. "I'm sure I can just-just get the name of your delivery boy and get my…um…supplies from him. I don't even really /need/ you."

As Conrad spoke he made his way across the room until he was standing near to Worth. For his part the doctor said nothing. He kept his eyes on the ebony haired man, however, still grinning.

"Ya could." He offered.

"I-I could even find a better fuck than you I bet. Someone who doesn't need to be bleeding from every orifice to get off."

"Mmhmm." Worth added, still amused.

"We don't even really have a relationship so it's not like…like I'd miss you for anything."

Worth nodded as Conrad slumped into a seated position. He'd put them close enough so that their shoulders brushed.

"I don't know why I can't. Kill you, that is." Conrad sighed.

Worth shrugged.

"Got me, puppy."

"Shut up."