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My Only Hate
folder
S through Z › Ultraviolet
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,492
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Ultraviolet
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,492
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.
Part Two
This time it was Vaughan's turn to tramp the pavement outside Kirsty's new flat late at night. However, unlike Michael, Vaughan was not interested insty.sty. He looked out over the river, towards the same houseboat that had caught Michael's attention the previous evening.
"Anything?" Angie's voice crackled over Vaughan's walkie talkie, but still managed to sound soft and sultry. She was watching from a vantage point at a safe house on the same street. Pearse sat in the shadows, watching Vaughan through CCTV footage, but occasionally looking out of the window. It was the only way they would know if the girl was a leech.
"Nope." Vaughan replied. He contemplated asking Angie out for a drink. He remembered that night, several years ago, when Angie had been told her husband might still be alive somewhere. Vaughan would have liked to help her to forget, but it was difficult to form attachments in their line of work. They never knew when the leeches would take them.
An hour or more passed.
"We might as well leave," said Pearse, "she must know we'll be watching for her after last night."
"But she must have to feed…" Angie suggested. She relayed the message to quit to Vaughan.
"You both go and I'll stay here and watch for a while longer," said Pearse. He wasn't tired and his body ached from the effects of his medication. He had survived Non-Hodgins lymphona for over five years. At one point it had cost him most of his hair, but that had now grown back as thick and lustrous as ever, with its trademark grey streak adding to his distinguished good looks. He had been in remission for two years, but now the disease had returned.
"He shouldn't be alone," Vaughan said, when Angie went out into the street and told him that Pearse was staying.
"He wants to be alone. I can't argue with him. I've tried."
"I know what you mean. Fancy a drink?"
"Er…I should get back to… I've just remembered I've got nothing to return to." Angie tried to laugh. Her only surviving daughter had gone off to university several weeks earlier, much to her mother's distress. She could no longer protect her child, and had more reason than most mothers to worry about that fact. She knew things that other mums didn't.
"So it's yes then?" asked Vaughan.
"Why not?" Angie smiled.
Pearse sat alone in tarkearkened room, thinking back over his life. He had been doing that a lot lately. Thinking about the choices that he had made. He had been so sure that becoming a priest was the way to fight thel thl that threatened mankind. But he had been less prepared than he realised for the restrictions that went with his vocation. If people thought about him, they assumed he had always been celibate, but that was not the case. There had been women before he was called to God. Sometimes, much to his own shame, he dreamed about the pleasures he had forsaken. It cost him a lot of hours in confession, but he had heard enough confessions from other priests to know that his wet dreams were nothing compared to the sins committed by his peers. Now he was ill again and he began to think of the human contact he had given up. He sighed impatiently, telling himself that it was probably the devil tempting him.
He pushed the thoughts aside and looked out of the window, and across the river. That was when he saw her. She was rowing the small boat from the houseboat to the bank nearest to him. He knew it was her before he held up the viewing-screen to check her reflection … or lack of it. Just as Michael had said, her reflection was intermittent, both on the moonlit river and on his viewing-screen. Pearse had seen many things in his time as head of CIB but this surprised even him. He was going to shoot her, but then her reflection appe in in the viewing-screen again, making him hesitate. Before he couolleollect himself, she had disappeared amongst some vehicles parked in the road.
Pearse swore silently to himself. His employees would have been surprised to hear the expletives escaping from his lips. He opened the sash window and peered out, stretching his body out as far as he could, trying to find her among the shadows. It was no good. She had gone. He pulled his shoulders back inside the room and tu aro around rapidly, about to make for the door.
It was already open and the girl stood framed in it, looking at him with a mixture of fear and anger …
"Anything?" Angie's voice crackled over Vaughan's walkie talkie, but still managed to sound soft and sultry. She was watching from a vantage point at a safe house on the same street. Pearse sat in the shadows, watching Vaughan through CCTV footage, but occasionally looking out of the window. It was the only way they would know if the girl was a leech.
"Nope." Vaughan replied. He contemplated asking Angie out for a drink. He remembered that night, several years ago, when Angie had been told her husband might still be alive somewhere. Vaughan would have liked to help her to forget, but it was difficult to form attachments in their line of work. They never knew when the leeches would take them.
An hour or more passed.
"We might as well leave," said Pearse, "she must know we'll be watching for her after last night."
"But she must have to feed…" Angie suggested. She relayed the message to quit to Vaughan.
"You both go and I'll stay here and watch for a while longer," said Pearse. He wasn't tired and his body ached from the effects of his medication. He had survived Non-Hodgins lymphona for over five years. At one point it had cost him most of his hair, but that had now grown back as thick and lustrous as ever, with its trademark grey streak adding to his distinguished good looks. He had been in remission for two years, but now the disease had returned.
"He shouldn't be alone," Vaughan said, when Angie went out into the street and told him that Pearse was staying.
"He wants to be alone. I can't argue with him. I've tried."
"I know what you mean. Fancy a drink?"
"Er…I should get back to… I've just remembered I've got nothing to return to." Angie tried to laugh. Her only surviving daughter had gone off to university several weeks earlier, much to her mother's distress. She could no longer protect her child, and had more reason than most mothers to worry about that fact. She knew things that other mums didn't.
"So it's yes then?" asked Vaughan.
"Why not?" Angie smiled.
Pearse sat alone in tarkearkened room, thinking back over his life. He had been doing that a lot lately. Thinking about the choices that he had made. He had been so sure that becoming a priest was the way to fight thel thl that threatened mankind. But he had been less prepared than he realised for the restrictions that went with his vocation. If people thought about him, they assumed he had always been celibate, but that was not the case. There had been women before he was called to God. Sometimes, much to his own shame, he dreamed about the pleasures he had forsaken. It cost him a lot of hours in confession, but he had heard enough confessions from other priests to know that his wet dreams were nothing compared to the sins committed by his peers. Now he was ill again and he began to think of the human contact he had given up. He sighed impatiently, telling himself that it was probably the devil tempting him.
He pushed the thoughts aside and looked out of the window, and across the river. That was when he saw her. She was rowing the small boat from the houseboat to the bank nearest to him. He knew it was her before he held up the viewing-screen to check her reflection … or lack of it. Just as Michael had said, her reflection was intermittent, both on the moonlit river and on his viewing-screen. Pearse had seen many things in his time as head of CIB but this surprised even him. He was going to shoot her, but then her reflection appe in in the viewing-screen again, making him hesitate. Before he couolleollect himself, she had disappeared amongst some vehicles parked in the road.
Pearse swore silently to himself. His employees would have been surprised to hear the expletives escaping from his lips. He opened the sash window and peered out, stretching his body out as far as he could, trying to find her among the shadows. It was no good. She had gone. He pulled his shoulders back inside the room and tu aro around rapidly, about to make for the door.
It was already open and the girl stood framed in it, looking at him with a mixture of fear and anger …