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My Only Hate
folder
S through Z › Ultraviolet
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,493
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Ultraviolet
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,493
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Ultraviolet, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
My Only Hate
(A/N This story mixes some of the mythology of Buffy, The Vampire Slayer (but none of the characters) with the science of Ultraviolet. It contains some original characters and the stars of Ultraviolet, with the emphasis on Philip Quast as the priest, Pearse Harmon. The CIB team face a moral dilemma when they meet a vampire with a soul.)
***********************************************
My only love sprung from my only hate
Too early seen unknown, and known too late.
(Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet)
Michael didn't see them coming. He hadn't seen her coming either, and she had been the biggest surprise. He'd had a long day, or at least that was the excuse he gave to Pearse when the tough boss of CIB chewed him up over his failure to realise the leeches were following him.
He had been hanging around outside Kirsty's house again, longing to see her, to explain everything. Not that she didn't know now. She was one of the few civilians who did know about the leeches since her fiance, Jack had gone over to their side. Jack had kept his word and not bothered Kirsty but Michael wasn’t taking any chances. Every night, when he finished work at CIB, he took a walk past her house to make sure she was safe.
She had moved since Jack's regeneration, and now lived in a less salubrious part of London, though according to local estate agents, it was up and coming.
"Yeah, if you like slum areas." Michael thought to himself now. He had to admit it wasn't that bad. He just hated the place because it was where Kirsty had chosen to hide. Her flat overlooked the river, which had recently been dredged and cleaned to create an inland harbour which was gradually filling up with sleek boats. He looked out over the river now. There was a slightly shabby looking houseboat right in the centre, with a small boat tied to the railing, presumably used by the owner to get to the bank. He leaned on the low wall separating the river from the road. He wouldn't mind a little houseboat like that, cut off from everything. From everyone.
That was when they attacked him. There were four of them, all leeches. He had learned very quickly that they had no smell, so that was one give away. The other was that even when they were climbing all over his back, they didn't have a reflection in the river. Michael struggled to get his gun out of his pocket, but they were too strong for him. He was aware of several mouths getting closer to his neck, ready to feed off him.
Then it happened. He felt one of the leeches yanked off him, heard a shot, and spun round, three leeches still on his back, to see the first leech explode in the centre of the street. He still had not seen who shot the leech. He assumed Vaughan had been checking on him and was somewhere around. All this whizzed through his mind as he was still fighting off the other leeches. He was only vaguely aware of the petite, dark haired woman swooping out of the shadows, with all the grace of a ballerina. She skillfully detached another leech from Michael's shoulder and shot him with a gun that Michael recognised as CIB issue.
Michael was able to reach for his own gun now, so elbowed the other two leeches from his back. They dispatched the last two together, the explosions lighting up the street, setting dogs barking. However, no one came out of their house to see what the commotion was. Michael, not for the first time, wondered at the capacity of Londoners to mind their own business.
"Thanks. I don't think we've met." Michael held out his hand to the woman. She looked at him with strangely. It was not exactly hatred in her face only … distaste? Fear? Indifference? He could have sworn that all those emotions flashed over her lovely face. And she was lovely, with elfin features. She looked to be about twenty-five, but she had a timelessness about her that Michael had only ever seen in … leeches.
"It's nothing." She said in response to Michael's thanks, her voice husky and low. "No introductions necessary."
With that she vaulted over the wall at the side of the river, and rushed along the jetty. Michael held up his gun, to see if she was reflected in the lens. She wasn't … then she was … almost like a hologram fading in and out in front of his eyes.
"You think she was a leech?" Pearse asked, disbelief in his eyes. Michael had called a special meeting that night to report what had happened. "Then why was she helping you? And why didn't you shoot her?"
"I don't know the answer to either question, Pearse, " replied Michael, once again feeling like a recalcitrant teenager. " She helped me. There must be a good reason. I'm not sure if she was a leech at all. Her reflection was … weird. It was there and then it wasn't. She didn't seem evil. Far from it. She was sort of sad…"
"Sounds like a crush to me." Angie March quipped, glancing sideways at Pearse. He smiled quickly, then got back to the job in hand.
"She is clearly not working for us. We don't employ leeches, assuming she is one. Have you thought that it might be a trap? The leeches are very good at giving people what they want to make them turn to the other side. Perhaps they think you want an attractive twenty-five year old."
"Don't we all," muttered Vaughan, who had been silent until that moment.
Pearse cast him a withering glance. They forgot he was a priest sometimes, but he was quick to remind them.
"She wasn't just attractive, Pearse. She was exquisite. But I didn't fancy her." He protested. It was true. Michael was still in love with Kirsty. The problem was that Pearse didn't trust him. Not after what he had done with Jack's ashes.
"I don't understand the thing about the reflection." Angie cut in.
"A new strain of the Code Five virus perhaps?" asked Pearse.
Angie shrugged. If it was, it caused lots of problems for CIB. It was nigh on impossible to track down the leeches as it was.
"Just think how much easier life would be for the leeches if they could pass for us at all times," said Vaughan, echoing all their thoughts.
******************************************************
Mariana sat alone in the houseboat, looking at the glass of liquid in front of her. She picked it up and drank it down quickly, trying not to gag. She would never get used to the taste of cold pig's blood, but it was better than the alternative. It was a waste of time trying to add something to flavour it, though she had thought of adding vodka. Pity she couldn't taste alcohol anymore.
She would have to think about moving now. Pearse Harmon and his people would be looking for her. Unlike many leeches, she knew who the head of CIB was. She had made it her business to know everything about them. Vaughan Price had killed her father during the first Gulf War… if it were possible to kill a man who was already dead.
She had never met the priest, Pearse Harmon, personally, but she had dreamed about him. Unsettling dreams that left her exhausted, rent in two, and reminded her where her heart used to be.
Mariana's dreams were like her reflection. Intermittent, but all the more devastating for that. She dreamed about him again that night…
End of Part One
***********************************************
My only love sprung from my only hate
Too early seen unknown, and known too late.
(Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet)
Michael didn't see them coming. He hadn't seen her coming either, and she had been the biggest surprise. He'd had a long day, or at least that was the excuse he gave to Pearse when the tough boss of CIB chewed him up over his failure to realise the leeches were following him.
He had been hanging around outside Kirsty's house again, longing to see her, to explain everything. Not that she didn't know now. She was one of the few civilians who did know about the leeches since her fiance, Jack had gone over to their side. Jack had kept his word and not bothered Kirsty but Michael wasn’t taking any chances. Every night, when he finished work at CIB, he took a walk past her house to make sure she was safe.
She had moved since Jack's regeneration, and now lived in a less salubrious part of London, though according to local estate agents, it was up and coming.
"Yeah, if you like slum areas." Michael thought to himself now. He had to admit it wasn't that bad. He just hated the place because it was where Kirsty had chosen to hide. Her flat overlooked the river, which had recently been dredged and cleaned to create an inland harbour which was gradually filling up with sleek boats. He looked out over the river now. There was a slightly shabby looking houseboat right in the centre, with a small boat tied to the railing, presumably used by the owner to get to the bank. He leaned on the low wall separating the river from the road. He wouldn't mind a little houseboat like that, cut off from everything. From everyone.
That was when they attacked him. There were four of them, all leeches. He had learned very quickly that they had no smell, so that was one give away. The other was that even when they were climbing all over his back, they didn't have a reflection in the river. Michael struggled to get his gun out of his pocket, but they were too strong for him. He was aware of several mouths getting closer to his neck, ready to feed off him.
Then it happened. He felt one of the leeches yanked off him, heard a shot, and spun round, three leeches still on his back, to see the first leech explode in the centre of the street. He still had not seen who shot the leech. He assumed Vaughan had been checking on him and was somewhere around. All this whizzed through his mind as he was still fighting off the other leeches. He was only vaguely aware of the petite, dark haired woman swooping out of the shadows, with all the grace of a ballerina. She skillfully detached another leech from Michael's shoulder and shot him with a gun that Michael recognised as CIB issue.
Michael was able to reach for his own gun now, so elbowed the other two leeches from his back. They dispatched the last two together, the explosions lighting up the street, setting dogs barking. However, no one came out of their house to see what the commotion was. Michael, not for the first time, wondered at the capacity of Londoners to mind their own business.
"Thanks. I don't think we've met." Michael held out his hand to the woman. She looked at him with strangely. It was not exactly hatred in her face only … distaste? Fear? Indifference? He could have sworn that all those emotions flashed over her lovely face. And she was lovely, with elfin features. She looked to be about twenty-five, but she had a timelessness about her that Michael had only ever seen in … leeches.
"It's nothing." She said in response to Michael's thanks, her voice husky and low. "No introductions necessary."
With that she vaulted over the wall at the side of the river, and rushed along the jetty. Michael held up his gun, to see if she was reflected in the lens. She wasn't … then she was … almost like a hologram fading in and out in front of his eyes.
"You think she was a leech?" Pearse asked, disbelief in his eyes. Michael had called a special meeting that night to report what had happened. "Then why was she helping you? And why didn't you shoot her?"
"I don't know the answer to either question, Pearse, " replied Michael, once again feeling like a recalcitrant teenager. " She helped me. There must be a good reason. I'm not sure if she was a leech at all. Her reflection was … weird. It was there and then it wasn't. She didn't seem evil. Far from it. She was sort of sad…"
"Sounds like a crush to me." Angie March quipped, glancing sideways at Pearse. He smiled quickly, then got back to the job in hand.
"She is clearly not working for us. We don't employ leeches, assuming she is one. Have you thought that it might be a trap? The leeches are very good at giving people what they want to make them turn to the other side. Perhaps they think you want an attractive twenty-five year old."
"Don't we all," muttered Vaughan, who had been silent until that moment.
Pearse cast him a withering glance. They forgot he was a priest sometimes, but he was quick to remind them.
"She wasn't just attractive, Pearse. She was exquisite. But I didn't fancy her." He protested. It was true. Michael was still in love with Kirsty. The problem was that Pearse didn't trust him. Not after what he had done with Jack's ashes.
"I don't understand the thing about the reflection." Angie cut in.
"A new strain of the Code Five virus perhaps?" asked Pearse.
Angie shrugged. If it was, it caused lots of problems for CIB. It was nigh on impossible to track down the leeches as it was.
"Just think how much easier life would be for the leeches if they could pass for us at all times," said Vaughan, echoing all their thoughts.
******************************************************
Mariana sat alone in the houseboat, looking at the glass of liquid in front of her. She picked it up and drank it down quickly, trying not to gag. She would never get used to the taste of cold pig's blood, but it was better than the alternative. It was a waste of time trying to add something to flavour it, though she had thought of adding vodka. Pity she couldn't taste alcohol anymore.
She would have to think about moving now. Pearse Harmon and his people would be looking for her. Unlike many leeches, she knew who the head of CIB was. She had made it her business to know everything about them. Vaughan Price had killed her father during the first Gulf War… if it were possible to kill a man who was already dead.
She had never met the priest, Pearse Harmon, personally, but she had dreamed about him. Unsettling dreams that left her exhausted, rent in two, and reminded her where her heart used to be.
Mariana's dreams were like her reflection. Intermittent, but all the more devastating for that. She dreamed about him again that night…
End of Part One