Been Treading On Hearts (Ed/Open)

[Cassie Vimes]

Cassie had never seen snow before. To be perfectly frank she wasn’t enjoying being so up close and personal with it at all. Frozen flakes fell steadily from the clouds above, coating Hogsmeade in a thick layer of white and making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. The temperature had long ago dropped below freezing, leaving the ground plenty cold enough for the snow to settle. The WWN had announced this morning that the cold spell was here to stay and, therefore, so was the snow.

A loud sigh pretty much summed up exactly how Cassie felt and she watched despondently as the puff of air that had just been pushed out from between her lips turned into a white cloud before her eyes. Her converse all-stars were already soaked through, freezing cold water seeping into the fabric of the shoe and making her toes numb. As soon as she got inside she’d take them off, dreading the way her toes would start to burn at the drastic change in temperature.

Cassie trudged onwards, the only thing keeping her going was the prospect of a good stiff drink. Preferably tequila. And hopefully some good (attractive, male) company to share it with. She stopped, putting one mitten-clad hand on the top of her head to hold on her fur-trimmed hood as she craned her neck to catch sight of the sign on the nearest building. ’The Hog’s Head’ That was the name of a pub if ever she’d seen one. A little shady perhaps, but that was the way she liked them.

A gush of hot air hit her in the face as she pushed open the door, making her grin contentedly. She slipped in, sitting at one of the empty tables and kicking off her damp shoes so that her feet could dry out. Cassie didn’t bother to remove any of her other many layers, leaving the hood up on her heavy winter coat and her scarf, hat and gloves firmly in place. In fact she was so well dressed you could barely see the girl under all the clothes. She’d get round to shedding layers eventually, but right now she was concentrating on rediscovering parts of her that she’d feared had frozen off the moment she stepped out into the cold.

[Dacian]

Waking up to the sound of people was always unnerving for Dacian. People generally meant that he was too close to civilisation. He liked to be alone when he slept, but there was no privacy here. People stomped around, scraping chairs and dropping things and generally causing a row. Didn't they have any concern for who might be sleeping. They wouldn't be so noisy if they realised what exactly they had woken up.

As the evening bustle began, Dacian dragged himself up, ran his fingers through his hair to push it off his face and left it hanging loose behind his head. The free-ranging curls softened the hard lines of his face, but the vampire was more concerned with the effort of tying it back. He changed grudgingly into a dark shirt provided by the landlord -- apparently he wasn't allowed to wear the same clothes every day, people might notice. Vivian was dead to the world, literally, so he left her 'asleep' and envied her acute teenage ability to sleep through anything. As a changeling, she naturally found it harder to wake in the evenings, or before the sun had set fully even on overcast days like this. When she got to be his age, she would be able to stay awake all day long, though even Dacian's body needed rest now and again.

As he prepared to leave the pitch dark basement, he found a note shoved under the cellar door. Reading it from the candlelight in the stairwell, he found it was another polite request for the night's bar supplies. Dacian smiled to himself. Poor Edward refused to come into the basement now it was the residence of two vampires, so Dacian often had to play barmaid and bring anything that wasn't on tap up to the bar itself. It worked out in Edward's favour. The heavy crates were as easy to lift to the vampire was if they were polystyrene props to a mortal man.

Hefting a few crates of 'Butterbeer' up the stairs, Dacian at least pretended to struggle as he brought them out into the public area of the bar. He put them down with a thump on the bar (which always annoyed the landlord as it tended to dent the wood which naturally Dacian found amusing and so he continued to do). The place was not so busy yet, only a few students lingering around, but Dacian had spotted someone of interest. Although wrapped in multiple layers and almost indistinguishable from a pile of bound pillows, he could easily tell a woman from a girl any day. And from what face he could see around her hood and hat, she was a fine woman indeed.

With a quick glance around to make sure Edward was not busy policing, the vampire drew on a friendly smile and walked over. "You're cold." He told her, knowing enough about women that asking would be pointless. Of course she was cold. "Can I get you something warm to drink?" The idea of a warm drink prompted salivation, though Dacian was definitely not thinking of tea, coffee, or hot chocolate.

[Cassie Vimes]

Cassie turned her head as somebody approached, or at least, she would have turned her head had the constricting layers of clothing allowed her to. Instead she had to twist her whole upper body to take a look at whoever was coming over. And she was glad she did, the man was very easy on the eyes. A little on the pale side perhaps, but everyone in Scotland seemed pale to her. They never got any sun around here.

If this was to be her company for the evening then she was well and truly set, it almost made the snow worth it. "Mmm. Bloody freezing!" She said, grinning at the man in a not entirely innocent way. Cassie pushed off her hood and hat, shaking out her long, blonde and a little messy hair as she began to undo the buttons of her coat. Stripping for the first attractive man she came across, Greyson would be appalled. Then again what her father didn’t know couldn’t hurt him and there was a lot he didn’t know about Cassie.

She paused as he offered her a drink. Either he worked here, in which case she’d have no qualms about accepting the offer, or he didn’t and he wanted something else from her. Cassie had no problem with the wanting something else part of the equation (or she might have if she’d known Dacian wanted blood), but she didn’t understand why guys always tried to buy her drinks. Like an evening with her was only worth the couple of quid it cost to get her drunk. "I’m paying." She clarified.

"But I’ll have a coffee. Actually make it an Irish coffee, I like my drinks with a bit of a kick." The grin from before was back and she let her gaze linger on him just a little longer than necessary. "Your company would be much appreciated as well." The bad mood that had settled over her as she trudged through the snow had all but evaporated. Good company could do that to a girl. Not to mention the relief she felt that she hadn’t lost any of her toes to frostbite.

[Dacian]

So far, apart from the heavily guarded Professor Diana, Dacian had been living off of teenagers and to his disgust he'd even resorted to feeding from a cow and more than one mortal man. With the exception of the werewolf, he hadn't had a decent meal in months. The sight of one full-bodied adult woman was enough to make even the most dormant of heart give a beat or two. If it could have skipped, it would have. With the revealing of her head came her inevitable scent, and Dacian was more than pleased. It was rich and warm and her tussled hair invited a caress.

Generally he preferred brunettes, but one couldn't be picky is such a desolate village. She was obviously new here, else he'd have found her long before now. His smile broadened and warmed, but he hid his fangs with a finesse developed over centuries. You didn't last this long if you scared your prey off before you came in range. And Dacian was very eager to get close to this one. It was a game he enjoyed, though it was spoiled with Edward Johns keeping a watch on him. As if he hadn't noticed the owls flying to and from the castle. Dear Edward was keeping tabs on him and reporting to Connery. It was to be expected, but he could not ensure Vivian's safety and fly under the wizards' radar.

The lady responded in kind, and Dacian was not disappointed. Usually an easy catch spoilt the game but now it had a time restraint, a stubborn fish would just be a nuisance. It was fortunate he was good bait when he wanted to be, else it was unlikely such a prized fish would take the bait -- though it wasn't often the bait bit back.

The woman's voice concerned him, though he disguised the twitch of his eyebrow with concentration. She was Australian, like Edward, did she know him? That would complicate things. But Australia was supposedly a big place, and it was as likely that she knew Edward as one English person knew another at random. "Ah, an Australian. We don't get many of your type around here." His expression hinted he was not displeased that one of 'her type' was here. He met her gaze with one of equal interest. "Irish coffee. I'll be right back, and then you can tell me how you came to be so far from home."

Drinks were not Dacian's specialty, unless it came with a blood type rather than a label. Luckily, there was not much to do in the daytime and television and books were his primary source of entertainment when available. At one point in recent history, he'd read something about fixing alcoholic drinks and so after a rummage behind the bar, he managed to fix something that approximated an Irish coffee.

He dutifully ignored any protocol to do with payment for the thing. He would never understand the modern woman's fascination with holding their own. The fairer sex had been quite happy to be coddled by mankind for centuries, why did they choose now to make things difficult for themselves? He didn't much disagree with the whole 'woman rights' thing, they were entitled to whatever rights men had, but it was so hard to please a woman these days. The only thing that was good about the whole thing that was while some woman were impossible, others were delightfully easy. This young lady seemed to be a combination of the two. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it for herself. Interesting, though probably infuriating.

On returning to the table, he set the mug down in front of her and took up a seat opposite her. "I'm afraid I had to use instant coffee, there's no cream and its in an old chipped mug, but it should do the trick." He folded his hands on the table top and maintained steady eye-contact. "But I added a little extra kick, just for you." His expression was almost typical of man-meets-attractive-woman, but he'd eased off on the chauvinistic leer that mortal men couldn't help and accentuated the natural curiosity that seemed to be more becoming to the modern woman.

[Cassie Vimes]

Cassie couldn’t help but smile at that. She wasn’t really surprised that Australian’s were few and far between around here. It was Scotland in the middle winter. But she’d never been one to do what was expected and she could tough out the cold for some new experiences. Especially if those new experiences involved a tall, dark and handsome man bringing her quite possibly her favourite drink on the planet. (Next to tequila of course.)

She watched him go, taking full advantage of the rear-end view, and then allowed her gaze wander when he disappeared behind the bar. He must work here after all, he seemed to know his way around the place and, well, patrons didn’t usually help themselves. Cassie wasn’t exactly keen on the prospect of divulging her life story though, she was far better at listening to the tales of drunks in bars than sharing her own. What the hell though, she was in a new place, she might as well try a new tactic.

It was a tough job, but somehow she managed not to fall onto the mug like a woman possessed as he set it in front of her. A hot drink was just what she needed after being out in the cold and she laughed as he admitted it may be a little substandard. ”I’ve had worse, believe me.” Cassie said, curling her gloved fingers around the mug and letting the warmth seep into her palms for a moment. He could have told her he’d put mud in the cup and she wouldn’t have cared.

Eye contact, that was good. Cassie broke it, being deliberately coy as she lifted the mug to her lips and blew steadily across the surface of the liquid to cool it slightly. The rich aroma of coffee laced with whiskey filled her nose and she took a sip, smiling indulgently as the warmth trickled down her throat to settle pleasantly in her stomach. It was an effort to stop herself melting into the chair with contentment, instead she met his gaze once more. ”I’m Cassie, it’s a pleasure to meet you…” She trailed off, expecting him to supply is name and finish the sentence for her.

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[Dacian]

Dacian had long ago renounced God as his Lord, but with the evidence before him, he couldn’t deny that some higher power had taken pity on him and provided him this luscious little miracle. He was a starving man in a town full of drunken sots, decrepit old woman, children too young to tamper with his moral compass and obnoxious wizards whom if it could be helped, he would never feed from again. And so it made sense that someone was looking down on him tonight.

It was either that, or God was a cruel man and had given him someone who could tempt saints with that gratified little smile. The way she looked at that drink was the innocent parody of the way he would look at her. A warm favourable drink to bring warmth and numbness to the body. He filled his ears with her heartbeat, his nose with her scent and his eyes with every minute facial detail and expression. Apart from a little deviation in the form of some sort of piercing hole in her left nostril, her face had all the characteristics every good woman should have. If God existed, He was tempting him into a handful of sins, none of which he hadn’t broken before, of course.

He was so intent on her that he almost missed her implied question. Almost. “Dacian”, he replied quickly. There was no point in lying. Edward would no doubt spoil that when he found him fraternising with the clientele. Ever since the ‘werewolf in the alley’ incident, Edward had been quite insistent he leave the punters at the Hogs Head alone and Dacian had for the most part – why would he want to drink from any of the washed up, backwater, dirty little miscreants that frequented this place? With the exception of the odd teenage student, drinking from anything here would probably do him more harm than good.

Knowing his time was short, and he probably wouldn’t be able to conclude the game before it was interrupted, he’d have to give it reason to continue another night. And for that, she would have to want to play. Time to be appealing.

With a satisfied quirk of his lips and a nod, Dacian looked relieved. “Good, you like it. I wasn’t sure if I got it right.” He added a slight insecurity to his innocent expression. Those modern women typically had a ‘thing’ for men who were honest about their insecurities. Apparently. He was a bit rusty at dealing with mortal women in such a manner. He usually took the direct approach, straight to the neck. The pleasantries were usually unnecessary. He was stealthy enough to get close enough to bite without this whole charade. Then why bother now? Practice? Entertainment? As much as he didn’t like to admit it, wooing a woman into proximity was a challenge. And it was a challenge he couldn’t resist.

[Cassie Vimes]

”Dacian,” She murmured, repeating the name back to him, flirtatious smile ever-present on her lips. ”That’s unusual, I like it.” Cassie took another sip from her mug, still holding it up near her lips so she could take full advantage of the warmth and aroma the drink provided. Usually the names men provided her in bars had to be taken with a pinch of salt, especially when they were as uncommon as the one this man had claimed as his own.

For some reason though, she found herself willing to believe him. Dacian, it seemed timeless, but something about the man seemed timeless too. He was the kind of man you imagined when fortune tellers told you you’d meet a handsome stranger in the not too distant future. Or at least, Dacian was the kind of man you hoped it would be. Cassie shifted in her chair, not so subtly repositioning so she was facing him more directly.

She was definitely interested and everything about her body language told him so. The way she was leaning forwards slightly in her chair, creating a more personal space between them. Her teeth biting gently into the plump flesh of her bottom lip to draw attention to her lips as she gazed at him through long, thick lashes. Another small chuckle as he reiterated his uncertainty about the coffee. Well that was just cute.

”It’s perfect,” She told him, taking another mouthful to further reassure him. ”You’ve been quite charming. I bet Irish Coffee isn’t even on the menu.” Cassie uncurled one hand from the mug to gesture at the pub. ”Somehow I think this place is more of a beer and spirits kind of establishment.” It wasn’t like she was under the impression that she’d wandered into a classy little bar. The Hog’s Head was as dirty as they came.

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[Dacian]

Dacian was beginning to wonder if she was intelligent as well as appealing. Intelligent could be less appealing, higher IQs were directly proportional to being found out as a blood-sucking fiend of the night. But from the look on her face, and written all over her posture under all those layers, he wasn’t found out quite yet. It was almost exciting to be playing the mortal incognito, he’d forgotten after the last few months of hunting quite how complicated this game was.

“It is an old name, my mother liked to be different.” He replied, eyes flickering over her face as if trying very hard to judge her real reaction. There was nothing about her to suggest she did not dislike his name, but a mortal man could be fickle about something as simple as a name. She was easy to read, and it made her conscious and unconscious gestures like pages in a book. She was displaying the typical signs of attraction, and for once, he was not immune. It took a great deal to stir his old mortal instincts, but she managed it. She was either very good, or he had been without company for far too long.

He let her know, leaning forward a fraction more, loosening the fold of his arms so his hands were further across the table toward her and met her eyes with more warmth. He had to build a repertoire quickly if he had any hope of continuing the game elsewhere. He could hear Edward shuffling about upstairs, and the barkeep could come in at any moment. She thought he was charming, did she? Well he’d just have to attest that.

“To be quite honest, I don’t pay that much attention to the menu.” If the dingy place even had one. “Most people who come here already know what they want.” He certainly knew what he wanted. His gaze flickered to her hand, and with a purposeful movement, he put his hand on the table where hers might naturally rest if she lowered it. “You were going to tell me why you’re here.” He prompted, expression earnest.

[Cassie Vimes]

Cassie gave a little nod of understanding as Dacian explained about his name, his eyes on hers were searching as he tried to gage her reaction. The signals she was getting from him were mixed, the way he’d approached her, the way he was matching her body language, suggested confidence. And yet he was willing to admit his insecurities about the coffee and he was worried about his name. Cassie found it refreshing, most of the guys she met were either all ego and self-confidence, or they were as timid as a dormouse.

It made a nice change to meet a man who seemed to have achieved the perfect balance. ”Well, it suits you. Not many people could pull off a name like that.” She told him. ”My parents weren’t nearly so imaginative.” Cassie wrinkled her nose a little. Cassandra, it was just so… Seventies. She probably wouldn’t have minded except Greyson had told her she was named after her mother’s favourite ABBA song.

Cassie’s breath hitched the tiniest amount as Dacian leaned into her, closing the distance between them a little more and further helping to create a private little world between them that blocked out all the distractions of the pub around them. She almost missed what he said next as she was busy watching the way Dacian moved his hand deliberately across the table, upping the game another step. ”Mmm.” Cassie hummed in agreement, sipping from her cup once more to teasingly make him wait for her return gesture.

”Why I’m here? In this pub?” Cassie grinned, deliberately misinterpreting him. ”Just my luck I guess.” She said, finally lowering her mug to the table and letting her fingers graze past his. It was the smallest of touches, but she wasn’t breaking contact either. ”As for how I came to leave Australia… After I finished school I did go back home for a few months, but I felt like I had to get away for a while. Travelling for a while somehow became a little more long term and here I am.”

She half hoped Dacian would ask more questions, wheedle the story out of her. But the other half of her hoped that was exactly what wouldn’t happen. Cassie was beginning to think she should have been more forthcoming about her past before now, at least then she’d have had a chance to practice her story, make it sound a little more interesting. She looked at him uncertainly, trying to guess how he would react.

[Dacian]

Assuming Cassie was short for Cassandra, he didn’t think it was a particularly bad name, he even knew a fair few female vampires to choose it as their name. It seemed to be a fad in the last few decades to play the scene. Tourists liked to entertain themselves with vampire-themed things, and popular culture did not help matters. Apparently ‘Cassandra’ was one of those popular vampire names. Personally, Dacian kept his birth-given name as it was about the only thing he had left of his past. There came a point in time where you cherished what memories you had left of the mortal life. He’d outlived his parents, his wife, his children, and a whole multitude of descendants. Dacian would not call himself sentimental, but there were certain things he would not relinquish from his memory or being, his name was one of them.

Dismissing the nostalgia, he turned his mind back to the game. The girl was entertaining, at least. It was as if on some simpler level, she was playing her own game and she appeared to be winning. Conventionally, he stalked, isolated and fed from his prey without even giving them a glimpse of him. They woke groggy and confused a while later but otherwise no worse for wear without memory of their encounter with the darker side of nightlife. Here he could hardly stalk prey that was not on the move, and the hunt set inside required a delicate approach. With Edward roaming around, he could hardly manhandle her into the basement as he or Vivian would certainly notice. He had to win her over, make any scenario where they were alone entirely instigated by her. He could hardly be blamed for snacking on voluntary food, could he? Not that she’d know what she was volunteering for.

He turned his hand into a fist, resting the back of it firmly against her gloved hand. He could feel the warmth of her through it, but hopefully she could not feel the coolness of his skin. He maintained a steady room temperature and so suspicion would arise if she discovered he was cold to the touch. He flashed her a smile, looking at their hands together before returning his eyes back to her face. “Travelling, hum? I understand the allure.” Though he was usually travelling away from something, not to it. He had a habit of not making friends wherever he went. “Where have you been so far?” He asked, playing along. His expression was animated, his eye-contact firm but not oppressive. He was clearly interested in what she had to say and was keen to quell any uncertainty between them.