Fangfic 10

Retrograde

by DevilKat

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asd/devilkat/fangfic10.php
Summary: Not Supplied

My thoughts blast around in my head so fast I think they're just gonna hurtle out of my skull and leave a hole there. More of them than I'm used to, too. Where the hell did Lestat come from, what was he doing here, how the hell had he got in? Where was Teal'c? Come to think of it, Teal'c shoulda come roaring upstairs about the time I was, uh, beginning to discover rather nosily how much I enjoyed being a bottom to Danny's top. God, how I wish he had, although probably I wouldn't have appreciated it at the time. If this damned leech had hurt Teal'c...

"Calm yourself, my Colonel...your large dark friend is only sleeping." He's bending over Daniel a little too closely for my liking, and as I clamber out of bed intending to hustle over and either help out or ask what the hell his intentions are, he...shit!

Leans gracefully down and licks at the oozing wound on that slim, graceful neck.

I can't decide whether to knock him into next Thursday or gape appreciatively at the sight. It's...weird. So weird. So...sexy. That blazingly alive face so close to Danny's now peaceful one, the different shades of blond hair almost tangling. Two fallen angels in an erotic print by one of those old masters Daniel always yaddaed on about when I wasn't listening...

What? Whoa! My Danny being tongued by that damned Lestat? That isn't sexy, it's bullshit! I'm gonna...

Lestat raises his head and smiles at me; a silky, evil smile that's only enhanced by the touch of crimson on those...those lips. "Come here," he says very gently.

The flow of blood from Danny's throat that was scaring the crap out of me is now...stopped. With the blood licked away, I can see the skin is even unmarked. Oh, yeah, the vampire-spit healing thing. Goddammit, I probably coulda done that if I just remembered about it!

"Not yet. You're too young."

"I hate when you do that, Lestat!"

His smile grows a trifle, and to my surprise I can see he is not all fanged out. Maybe halfway. After slurping on Danny like that? What a weird bird he is.

"So sorry that your mind is so shallow it all but pours into mine. And no, I do not have any interest in your foolish friend." I'm relieved, all right, but just a tad offended, a hair suspicious. Damn vamp must be blind or crazy.

He glances down impartially at all that naked gorgeousness stretched like a sculpture across the riot of blue and yellow fires. "All my...companions...have been quite lovely. Even beauty grows fatiguing over the centuries."

"Right, " I say sarcastically. And then I'm horrified to hear my mouth just go on without me, unconnected to my so-called brain. "So that's why you like ME, huh?"

Aw, geez, I didn't really say that did I?

His smile grows. So do the fangs, minutely. "No indeed. It is purely your wit and charm that attracts me. Come here, O'Neill." Why the hell is he keeping on smiling at me like... Shit. I'm still nude as a noodle. I feel like a dork, but I snatch my jeans from the rug and climb into them before getting anywhere near him. Any naked man with a grain of sense would want some pants on if Lestat told him to "come here" with that look on his face. Even without fangs-up.

Well, any naked man who is already spoken for and DOESN'T wanna be done over by him, okay? Dammit, doesn't.

Lestat watches my cautious approach with humor in those hot blue eyes. "Give me your arm."

"My ...say what? Is Danny okay? What are you up to, Lestat?

"Your arm," he commands with exaggerated patience. "That would be the thing attached to your shoulder with a hand on the end of it." His eyes suddenly flash a colder blue, intent and dangerous. "And if the words 'Ya think?' even flicker through your thoughts, O'Neill, I do believe I'll tear your throat out. Your pet snake incubator had the audacity to try and stake me with some colorful stick of wood that I suspect was once a croquet mallet. And after I bothered to knock on your door like a gentleman of breeding. I am not in the best of moods after such an insult."

He looks to be in the same half-humorous, vaguely irritable mood he always is far as I can tell, but hey, it might be wiser to take him on his word here. I cautiously extend my arm, throwing a worried glance at Daniel. Still pale, so pale, but I think his chest is rising and falling ever so slightly, not dead thank God not dead...

"Yeee-OOWW! God fuckin' DAMMIT Lestat give a guy some warning here!"

The bastard has just by-God sunk fang in me and opened up a vein with casual brutality. Dammitall, it feels like a chunk should be missing there!

I continue to bitch; he cuts across my comments with a voice as razor sharp as his teeth. "O'Neill."

"Still here, no thanks to you!"

"Feed him."

"What the..."

"I suggest you hurry before he falls beyond your help. You have almost drained him to the death, and with no idea how to change him. You are a pair of fools made for each other. I congratulate you."

I get over there double quick, place my slashed arm across Daniel's half-parted lips so the slow, heavy trickle of blood will flow into his mouth. It turns me kind of green to do it even as it...excites...me a bit. "Nothing's happening, Lestat! Shouldn't you be doin' this anyway?" Not that I exactly want him to, but I do want Danny getting the best blood possible here. Or maybe "best" isn't the word to use, given the, er, nature of the container. The strongest, anyway...what am I saying here? Good Lord, being a vampire is a pain in the ass! Screws your brain up along with all the other problems that come cropping up one after another.

"Believe me, you do not want my blood in him. You have no idea, O'Neill, of the trouble you already are in if what I suspect is true." Lightly, he brushes Daniel's hair off his forehead and rests the fingers of one hand there, closing his eyes and frowning slightly with concentration.

"What are you...whoa! Danny?"

His lips...move. Finally, finally stir and still moving, hesitant, tasting and then fastening, growing eager, soft muffled sounds of a suckling kitten, fire in my arm, fire in my heart, oh Dannyboy if I'd lost you...

"Let him drink only until you feel pain. This is important, O'Neill. For him to change would be a...difficult thing at this moment. I believe your blood is still too human to effect such a thing, but in these cases it is hard to be confident."

I've seen Lestat tense, but always before it's been from exasperation at yours truly. Now he seems to me a little...well, worried. Irritably worried, of course, but still as nervous as I've ever seen him. Not trying to hide it, either, which is even stranger.

"Lestat," I say quietly. "Tell me. What's wrong with him? What the hell d'ya mean 'these cases'? You sound like a fanged-out Fraiser!" I'm feeling no pain yet; Danny's eyes are still closed, but colour is returning to his face. He's not sucking hard, either, just sort of moving his lips softly against me, letting my blood sort of fall into his mouth. I'm not sure if this is a good or a bad thing.

His fingertips are still light on Daniel's smooth, pale forehead. His own forehead-just as pale, just as...touchable (whoa, O'Neill, you are having some weird thoughts here, must be the shock of nearly losing Danny) is slightly furrowed. "Thoughts shadowed," he murmurs, half to himself it seems. "Good control. Walls come up automatically...interesting..."

He shakes himself free of whatever he is pondering, seems to focus on my question with needle-sharp intensity. "Do you remember when I explained to you how the blood works?"

"Er...how it works? Well...er."

"The reason why vampires need less and less blood as time goes on?"

"Yeah, I remember you sayin' that." And I do, somewhere in there. Okay, so what? This is a good thing, right?

He crosses his arms and glares at me, and believe me, a full-on Lestat glower can peel the hide off you like a banana at fifty paces. "Your eyes are glazing up and I haven't even started. I shall endeavor to use words of one syllable."

"Uh...what you said. I mean, go ahead."

"The Blood feeds on human blood, and doubles itself. Thus for each, say, pint of human blood devoured, two pints of vampire blood are produced."

Well, they may be words of one syllable, but it sounds to me as if he's throwing some math in there as well. I put conscious effort into NOT letting my eyes fog over.

"Eventually, only the stronger blood is left. When one's entire system is composed of vampire blood, the requirements of feeding are of course greatly lessened."

"Of course. Everybody knows THAT."

Lestat gives the tiniest of sighs, closes those magnificent eyes and breathes softly, "Give...me...strength."

It's a phrase I've murmured...nope, usually moaned, sometimes shouted...often enough myself in my association with Daniel. I don't know what type of God Lestat might be praying to...rather not know, to tell the truth. But the familiarity of the attitude sort of kicks my brain out of the dazed condition that a lecture always reduces it to.

"So. Lestat. Is Danny, like, not reacting normally to this vampire blood and that's why he's so out of whack? Because he really didn't, uh, bite me all that much that first time. I knew myself he shouldn't of been so affected. Is he maybe allergic?"

Lestat's eyes snap open. Focus on me, with a hint of respect that has enough astonishment in it to slightly piss me off. "Allergy? A crude analogy, but apt. For some reason, in renegade vampires, the stronger blood reproduces itself faster, and at a greater proportion. Goes wild, so to speak. Even a small amount can result in one with full vampire powers but who still lives, and the result of that..."

I cut him off, focusing on one insulting word in his spiel. "Renegade vampire? What the hell do you mean by...ouch!"

I feel like a hot wire is suddenly being drawn through my arm. Too focused on Lestat's little speech, almost forgot about Danny. Who's suddenly gripping my arm way too hard in white-knuckled fingers, sucking avidly, moaning with pleasure. I feel a kick of the same ecstasy deep in my groin, oh look at his face all sweetly feral and is he hard or what...

"O'Neill! Let him go!" Lestat sounds like he's shouting; the roaring in my ears, though, makes it difficult to tell. What's he...oh, yes, let him go. Should push him away, break the connection, let him go.

Don't wanna...oh, flying and falling at the same time...Daniel...

"O'Neill, damn you...!" And then this truck hits me and knocks me on my ass.

Big damn truck. Knocks me right on my butt and away from Daniel.

I come off the rug cursing, bleeding, but with the puzzle-pieces of my brain trying to jiggle themselves back in order. My vision's a bit blurry, too, but my ears are working just fine.

Or maybe it's because Daniel fucking ROARS the word out. Can't say as I remember him ever roaring before.

"MINE!" And then a harsh stream of words I don't know, delivered at a lower volume but with the passion and sheer malevolence of a witch doctor chanting a curse.

Lestat snapping his words out, his voice crossing Daniel's. "O'Neill, restrain your puppy or I WILL have to hurt him."

I shake my head hard, focus on the swirling strange mental picture of a naked, snarling Daniel bunching to launch himself from my bed at an equally snarling, blazingly fanged Lestat standing in black lace and leathered defiance in the center of my humble bedroom.

Even with groggy mentality I'm still military, with a soldier's reflexes only heightened by the vampire thing. I hurl myself across Daniel's path even as he leaps, going by God for Lestat's very throat, and ohmigawd the fangs on him are longer and more...beastlike...than I think mine will ever be.

He hits me hard...not a lightweight, fer crying out loud, a solid mass of muscle and fury slamming into my arms. I sort of throw all my limbs around him and we roll across the carpet together, Lestat dancing aside gracefully as we hurtle past.

We hit the wall and I nearly lose him, he's like a writhing serpent in my grip. Not ranting in a foreign language now, but his neck seems to turn in an eerily boneless way so he can track Lestat, and he's growling. Growling in a way that freezes my blood, and with the life I've led I am NOT that easily petrified.

"Danny, Danny...chill, c'mon, it's Jack...please...please, I'm not mad, well I am mad but I know why you did it...wanna be with me, I understand, forget him, just us, please Danny...you and Jack...c'mon."

I don't know what I'm saying, what I'm babbling. I know I'm scared spitless that his mind is gone from all this. Know that Lestat is somewhere on the edge of my vision, slipping around behind us lightly as a song of death. I'm kissing Daniel's face, stroking his hair as he fights me, and I think...aw, dammit...I think I'm crying here. Just from sheer frustration, mind you.

He never does what he's told. He's ALWAYS goddammit fighting me!

"J..J'ck?" As if channeling my thoughts, he stops struggling, stops moving with an abruptness that is in itself non-human, from frenzy to total stillness in a portion of a second. Wide eyes focusing on mine, fingers dipping up to touch my face and stroke away the wetness. "Jack?" More coherent now, the fangs somewhat distorting his speech; those are big, honking vampire teeth and no mistake.

"What's happening to me?" he whispers clearly, just before Lestat slides behind him and cups both his temples in pale long-fingered hands that tighten on his head like a vise.

The wide blue eyes meet mine, shocked with hurt betrayal, and then he snarls again, fights silently for several seconds before sighing lightly, giving up. Slumping bonelessly into my arms as he has before this, when injured on some damnfool mission. Falling into my arms and trusting me to bring him home safe.

Although I'm not sure if trusting in Jack was the last thing going through his mind in this case.

Me and Lestat. Up on the roof. Looking silently at the stars. Smoking.

I only pull out the cigarettes now when I'm really upset. Haven't touched one for years, and this pack is stale. They taste different to vampire senses, too. Even worse than the damn anchovy pizza. When we first settle ourselves up here and I shake one out of the pack, despite everything I have to laugh when Lestat silently extends his hand for a smoke as well.

I light him up, we settle back and indulge ourselves for a few minutes. I'm not sure what the hell we're sharing here.

"Can you fix him?" I finally ask. "No-scratch that. It's a dumbass question."

"It's an honest question, from your perspective" Lestat says quietly. He stubs out his cigarette after only a few cursory drags; probably just trying to be companionable, taking one in the first place. He actually smiles a bit, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "A typical O'Neill question, in point of fact-honest and a trifle foolish. Because he isn't really broken. And that's not what you're really asking, my Colonel."

He's being nice to me again. God, I hate that. It's means there's serious trouble ahead.

Out here sitting in the cold dark with Lestat. The bit of moon hangs in the black night sky like a curved tooth. Even that ghost of light causes him to glimmer in the dark, turns his eyes into shimmering oceans. O'Neill waxing poetic here, and over a corpse. I really feel like I'm on psychedelics now.

Daniel tucked into my bed in the silent house below us. Sleeping peacefully? Or the restless sleep of the damned? Don't know...I can't read minds.

Daniel can. Just like I'm good at flight, Daniel as a vampire is good at what he's always been good at. Communicating.

"He was in my brain like a dagger for an instant, and I did NOT enjoy it," Lestat had snarled as he helped me move Danny into bed, under those artistic covers he'd brought from God knows where to make my Spartan sleeping arrangements more...romantic. "Being maligned inside your mind in ancient Babylonian is a disconcerting feeling. Aside from that fact, I'm sure what he was suggesting I do to myself would be physically impossible even for me!"

I'd barked out a semi-hysterical laugh, because he sounded almost...scandalized. And then I'd realized that the suggestion-whatever it was--hadn't bothered him. Nope, it was Danny's being able to push into his mind that way.

That thought didn't exactly make me feel like turning handsprings, either.

Now, on the roof, Lestat tilts his head at me with a hint of his usual mockery. "You really want to know if he can be turned back to what he was before all of this happened. The answer is no. No more than you. Or I."

"Peachy." The cigarette is suddenly as bitter as my voice, and I flip it away off the balcony. Maybe it'll start a fire and cheer my ass up. "So-what do I do? I mean, you hired me to go after Gou'ald, but I can't leave Daniel in this state for cryin' out loud! I can't leave him and I won't."

Lestat shrugs. "Then take him with you."

I just stare at him. He stares back, cool as a bloodsucking cucumber. "You have SO gotta be shitting me. Take him with. You said yourself he's outta control, a rogue...renegade...whatever."

"Yes. And as such, he would be an absolute terror to the Gou'ald. They are not fond of vampires in any form, but a renegade?" He laughs softly. I want to punch him right in that beautiful, heartless face.

If he notices me clenching my fists and counting to ten he doesn't call me on it. After this breather I'm able to say almost calmly, "You never did say what you were doing here. Besides indulging your damn voyeuristic tendencies. And you never said anything about how you know about the Gou'ald in the first place. Not to mention that they're scared of vamps!"

"Damn voyeuristic tendencies," he murmurs, shooting me an almost affectionate glance. "Excellent, O'Neill. I keep emphasizing that you should-how would you say?-save the rube act for someone else."

He's turned away from me. Leaning against the railing, looking over the view of stars, darkness, very small twinkling lights in the distance. My house is a fair ways from town.

I'm looking at...well, not to put to fine a point on it...his butt. Pretty easy on the eyes in that tight black leather. Like Danny's. Well, of course not LIKE Danny's but the same TYPE of butt. The type that makes you want to just grab hold with both hands and...

"Go ahead."

I nearly jump off the roof. "Lestat, I HATE when you do that! Go ahead WHAT, I wasn't thinking a goddamn thing here!"

He's looking over his shoulder at me. Teasingly. Eyes malicious. Voice...shit. That flow of silver-dark music, in and of itself an enchantment. "Of course not. But whatever you weren't thinking...I might enjoy it."

I'm speechless. Probably a good thing.

"Or rip you apart, on the other hand. But life is always a gamble."

I can't help snorting. "We're DEAD, Lestat."

Good God, that smile. "True. Which only means that we up the stakes somewhat."

"I'll make a freakin' note of it. Now how about my questions?"

He turns back, stretches languidly, and I watch him do it. Even worried sick about Danny I can watch that flowing arrogant beauty and take a perverse delight in it. Oh, Christ, and Daniel can read my mind. I groan aloud. Somebody please shoot me. Do silver bullets work? Nah, that's werewolves. In so much trouble here.

"You are." Ah fuck, why do I keep forgetting Lestat can read my mind too? "And I will answer your questions." His eyes are sparkling delightedly, no apologies whatsoever for casually scanning my brain. Casually uploading and enjoying the fact that I find him attractive (arousing) ah shit, shut up brain even though I love Danny.

Gonna hit him if he says "Thanks" for it. May pop him if he just smiles about it.

He doesn't smile. Looks serious as dammit, in fact, as he steps to my side with that silken speed, immobilizes my chin in a bracelet of five delicate steel fingers, tilts his head, and kisses me.

I'm jumping back. Windmilling my arms, swearing a blue streak, falling right the hell off my own damned roof, gonna break my undead neck and that'll solve everything....

I'm doing no such thing.

I'm kissing him back.

I'm doing better. Because despite making the gesture--the world-moving, stomach-dissolving gesture that I've been dreaming of ever since he changed me-he's polite. Too damn polite.

Isn't putting a bit of tongue into it. Well by God one thing Mama O'Neill always told me, if you're gonna do something you do it right, son.

Grabbing the back of his head as he starts to pull away. And he lets me. Lets me stop him, take his mouth, slip him the tongue. Bastard. Lets me do what amounts to a furious, almost brutal tonsil-search.

Lets me. And then feathers back with hot silk that seems to implode every nerve in my mouth without even trying. Gentle darting wet heat. Making an art form of a kiss, as opposed to my pile-driver effort. Oh shit. Oh shit I don't even believe this is happening I'm...

He catches my moaning breath in an even softer swirl of liquid fire. I dimly register his arm behind me, supporting me with iron gentleness as oh shit never gonna live this down...

I arch and shudder and oh damn just from a fucking kiss...

And winding through the rapture, a delighted voice, soft as if he's talking to himself rather than to me and the one in the house below:

"'Forget him?' 'Just us?' Oh...I don't think so, my colonel..."

Next: Snakes And Lizards