s02e06.1 A Night on the Town (Short)

Author: Mx wwmickd
Music Credits: ClChen
Biographical Research Credits: Photosue

A Night on the Town This short takes place between Virtual Episode 6 and 7


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Beth felt she was going to go crazy if she had to spend another moment with Oscar’s perennial silent treatment. Everyone had some kind of internal monologue, right?

"Oscar, is it rude to ask a vampire where, and when, were you born?"

"Rude questions? None. Questions we won't answer, many." Oscar answers, his face expressionless and his attention never waivering from the road.

"I'll start with the basics, how old are you?" No answer. "Where were you born?"

"St. Petersburg."

"White nights of summer, it's that far north, right?" Beth observes the tiniest of motions at the edges of Oscar's mouth. "I've never been further north than Vancouver, BC. What's it like?" A hint of motion at the jaw line shows Beth that Oscar has ousted the memory from his mind and he's back to business at hand.

"I made you remember your childhood, didn't I?" Oscar thinks, This one is observant... I could teach her."

In return for Beth's perceptiveness Oscar volunteers the information, "I was born in 1866, the serfs were freed in 1861"

"Your parents were originally serfs, then?" A reasoned assumption, good.

"1861 is just a date."

"I reminded you of your childhood Oscar,” Beth said gently with a smile, “naturally you thought of your parents. Even vampires have parents.” There is no other reason to mention that particular fact."

Another reasoned assumption, good, there’s more to this one than I originally thought.

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“Oscar, you can drop me off at Mick’s, we’re going out.”

Oscar worked his jaw, Mick was only 85 years old and he’d only been a vampire for 50 or so. Would he be careful? Would he use the back entrance? It wasn’t like Mick had a regular pattern of “eating” at one restaurant. Oscar had stood over the body of more than one Mafia hit lying on the sidewalk, just outside the restaurant where he had been holding court not thirty minutes before. Jesus Fucking Christ, ah, his favorite American curse, if Mick would tell him… he could check out the restaurant in advance. To bad all the vamp bars were unsavory or salacious. A vamp bar wasn’t necessarily safer, but certainly more predictable. Oscar hated having Beth outside of his control, he understood secrecy, that’s why he had this job. A team would make things easier.

“Oscar, who’s your favorite Russian author?” Beth asks as they ride up in the elevator to Mick’s place.

“Nabokov.”

“Like Lolita and Humbert Humbert, that pervert.”

“My favorite.”


He calculates the effect and impact of expensive details on an LA social mission. Tighter than normal T-shirt, distressed black jeans and a slim cut jacket, the corners of his lip twitch imperceptivity thinking how ridiculously in love St. John is; this woman, he can’t refuse her. Good… life is too short to ignore love. Oscar strips to take the opportunity to catch a few moments of freezer time.

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Music: Mirage Of Hope

"Mick, we're over dressed." Beth stops mid-step as they approach the entrance to the first club, music throbbing whenever the door is opened

"Yeah, but one look at that dress and they'll let you in." Mick looks down at her smiling appreciatively, enjoying the skin exposed by the dress that barely covers her.

"What about you? I don't see many guys in dress shirts and long jackets."

"I'll be right behind you; I'm too quick to keep out." He slips an arm around her waist, lightly tugging her toward him. "We'll be fine."

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Music: Milkshake

Cameron's pace has gradually slowed... trolling the clubs has turned up more than one bad behaving celebrity, people having sex in the bathroom stalls, lots of underage drinking. Beth’s ears are ringing and her feet hurt when they find Cammi’s car outside of The Massage Garage... a stripper bar. Oscar leans against it... immovable, refusing to go into one more club, especially one that assaults reason and the senses, while he’s on the job. Mick thinks, I’m going in there… with Beth… shit. Concentrate on the job at hand... bad choice of words.


“Beth, I’ll talk to the bartender and you check out the women… there shouldn’t be many who aren’t working.”

The bartender is an Amazon wearing a flesh colored bikini top and jeans. She looks naked from a distance; Louisville Slugger is tattooed across her upper arm. He’s going to have to order an overpriced drink before she says a word. There is no escape. Behind the bartender, he can see the women dancing in the mirror and soon one of the girls is flirting with him, up close and personal. Don’t touch the stripper, don’t touch the stripper, don’t touch the stripper. A muscle in his jaw is twitching; he scans the room for a safe place to rest his eyes, when he sees Beth emerging from the women's restroom. He stands up so quickly the girl staggers back and he has to catch her before she falls. Is Beth mad, no… she’s laughing at him, he can tell by the sparkle in her eyes.

“She’s passed out in the bathroom, Mick.”

“Let’s get her out of here.”

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While they wait for a tow truck, a quiet tightlipped argument takes place outside the club about who takes Cammi home. Mick, the gentleman, feels like it’s his duty, Oscar counters that he’s being paid and Beth says she’ll take them both on in a game of rock, paper, scissors for the right to decide.

“Fine… but you have to take another five percent, Oscar.”

“Shall I collect the second payment?”

“Don’t be too threatening.”

Oscar smiles his “I like humans,” smile and Beth shutters.

Mick and Beth drive away and Oscar thinks, Get lucky Beth, drag him over the edge… it wouldn’t take much tonight.


Author: Mx wwmickd