The Collector - by Sioux

Fandom :        The Bill/ Forever Knight
Pairing :       Ashton/Gilmore Knight/Vachon; Des/Reg
Rating :        R
Archive :       Jasmine Alley, Savegilmore anyone else please ask.
Spoilers :      None
Disclaimer :    Don't own the characters and not making a penny off them!


"Want some?" Luke asked, waving a piece of dry toast around.

"Please," Craig replied, concentrating on making the coffee.

Luke finished buttering the toast and cut the slice in half,
holding one half to Craig's mouth whilst he took a bite and
chewed. Absently Luke bit into the rest of the half slice, then
popped the last of it into Craig's mouth, licking his fingers
afterwards. Craig turned his dark eyes onto his companion and
smiled, watching as Luke unselfconsciously cleaned his fingers.

"Sorry, Luke. What did you say?" Craig asked.  He knew he had
been asked a question but hadn’t really been listening.

"I said I'll pick you up after your shift on Friday and we can have
a couple of drinks before we go to the party."

"Ah!"

"Ah?"

"I knew there was something I meant to tell you last night,"
Craig said.

"This had better not be what I think it's going to be," Luke
replied, turning to look up at Craig.

"I've been switched to the night-shift for four days, I won't be
able to go to the party," Craig said quickly.

Luke breathed out through his nose noisily.

"Kerry is going to be gutted if you don't turn up."

"Umm, Kerry already knows!"

"Oh bloody marvellous! Everyone else knows apart from me?"

"Don't be silly Luke! You're in the job, you know what it's like.
"
"Yeah," Luke muttered with little grace. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you on the night-shift?"

"Remember a few weeks ago when I caught the psycho who
was collecting blood?"

"The one Barton Street let walk?" Luke asked, laughing.

"Thanks for reminding me! Detective Knight thinks I can be of
some help in finding him again."

"Detective Knight? Detective Nick Knight? Blonde hair, blue
eyes and very good looking Detective Knight who's been at Sun
Hill for the last week?"

Craig grinned down at his lover.

"That sounds like a touch of the green-eyed monster to me," he
said gently, taking Luke into his arms and kissing him.

"He's gorgeous," Luke complained, taking quick kisses from
Craig. "All that flawless white skin and big blue eyes," he
finished.

"Then it's a good job I'm currently into brown-eyed brunettes,
isn't it?" Craig replied. "It sounds like you've been doing a lot of
looking."

Luke frowned and concentrated on Craig's lips. "Be careful," he
said quietly brushing Craig's bottom lip with his thumb.

"Luke?"

Luke looked up and smiled at him, more than a little distracted.
Craig was frowning down at him now.

"It's nothing," Luke said, turning back to buttering the toast.

"Doesn't sound like nothing to me," Craig said, putting his arms
around Luke from behind and resting his cheek against the side
of the younger man's head.

"It's just something Reg said."

"Reg?"

"There is something funny about the guy."

"Yeah, I know. I used to work with him, remember?"

"Not Reg, the Yank!"

"Canadian."

"What?"

"Knight is Canadian."

"Yank, Canadian, whatever. They're all the same over there."

"I wouldn't let Knight hear you say that! Come on then, let's
hear what pearls of wisdom fell from PC Hollis' lips!"

Luke leaned back into the comforting embrace and twined his
hands with Craig's.

"There is something funny about him." Craig rolled his eyes so
Luke dug him in the ribs. "He makes me feel really
uncomfortable and he has the same effect on Reg."

"Not a particularly effective observation, PC Ashton."

Luke sighed. "Just a gut reaction, copper's nose, call it what you
want. He's..unnerving."

"As well as being good looking?"

"As well as being good looking. Did you know almost everyone
who has worked with him has only lasted about two days, or
rather nights?"

"What?"

"They all go down with something and end up going off sick,
apart from Des. Reg got him pulled off onto another job after the
first night working with Knight."

Craig pulled a face, still unable to come to terms with Des and
Reg sharing house and home. Anything else just defied the
imagination, but Tony Stamp swore there was only one bed in
that place.

"So," Craig said, whispering in his ear, then gently biting his ear
lobe. "Reg thinks Nick Knight is what? A werewolf?" he asked,
his hand slithering down, undoing the button and zip then
snaking into Luke's trousers. Luke pushed his hips forward and
muttered something.

"What?" Craig breathed against his neck.

"Vampire, he thinks Knight is a ... ohhhhhh," Luke moaned as
Craig's fingers stroked him on a particularly sensitive spot. Then
cool fingers, slick with butter from the pot in front of him, stroked
deeply into him, pushing him forward and up onto his toes. Luke
pushed back against the hardness digging into him then
forward into the warm hand. The hand in front left him
momentarily as bits of a familiar little wrapper fluttered down to
the floor around his feet. A delicious feeling of tingling
anticipation swept up along Luke's legs and across his belly as
seconds later something much larger than fingers pushed into
his body. Reflexively Luke pushed up onto his toes again and
then pushed back.

"You always so prepared?" he gasped out as Craig thrust into
him steadily.

"Used to be a boy scout," Craig replied, breathing hard.

"No shit?" Luke panted before his higher speech functions cut
out leaving him only with the ability to moan encouragement
and then howl as he came.

Two sets of stressed breathing echoed through the kitchen.
Craig had his arms wrapped tightly around Luke and was
leaning on Luke's back who in turn was leaning against the
worktop, a stray slice of toast centimetres away from the end of
his nose.

"I love you," Luke whispered.

The arms holding him tightened in acknowledgement.
A powerful hammering on the front door rudely brought them to
their senses.

"Oh no! Tony is picking me up while my car's in the garage,"
Luke groaned, not making any attempt to move.
Carefully Craig pulled away, dropping the used condom into the
kitchen bin, he cleaned himself up at top speed with some
damp paper towel, handing a couple of sheets to Luke. The
hammering on the front door increased in volume. Sulkily Luke
fastened himself up and got ready to face the working day.

"Tony's timing stinks!"

"And so does this kitchen so don't let him in," Craig warned,
quickly giving Luke a peck on the lips. Then he said kindly, "See
you tonight, my love," his eyes softening as he wiped the sweat
of their passion from Luke's face.
Luke reached up and pulled him down for a longer kiss which
was interrupted by Tony again.

"Alright Tone! Don't break the door down!" Luke shouted,
making his way down the hall.

"Come on! We haven't got all day," Tony said, as soon as the
door opened.

"Alright, alright I'm here!"

"What's up? You got out of bed late?"

"No. I was in the loo, that's all."

"Craig on early shift then?" Tony asked.

"No, Craig's busy," Luke replied, pulling the door closed leaving
Craig to laugh quietly to himself as he drank the lukewarm
coffee and finished off the last piece of cold toast.




Des walked wearily through the front door, shutting it quietly
behind him. Reg was on the two-to-ten shift and should be
asleep, though from the delicious smell wafting along the
hallway he'd either left something in the oven for him or was up
and cooking. The thought of food dragged his tired feet into the
kitchen. Reg was indeed up and busy, a tea towel slung over
his shoulder as he busied himself stirring a pan on the stove.

"Reggie babe, you should be in bed."

"Morning Des. Just thought you might want something hot to
eat."

Des wandered across to the stove, slung his arm across Reg's
shoulders and inhaled the heavenly scent coming from the pan.

"You're spoiling me! That smells great! What is it?"

"Store cupboard soup," Reg replied, dipping a clean spoon in
the bright green mixture and letting Des taste.

"Mmmm, that is gorgeous!"

"Yeah, thanks. Nigella Lawson recipe, actually" he said, dishing
up the soup into two bowls. "With a bit of my own flavourings
thrown in."

A plate of freshly cut crusty bread sat on the table so Des dug in
with relish, finishing the bowl in a couple of minutes and asking
for seconds. Reg served up another bowl of soup and sat down,
quietly finishing his own portion.

"What's up?" Des asked, finally noticing the unnatural quiet in
the kitchen.

"Nothing. How was your shift?"

"OK."

"Have you been working with our Canadian colleague?"

"Some of the time. No sign of the weirdo with the blood fetish,
I'm pleased to say. Anyway Nick's moving across onto Barton
Street's patch tonight."

"Oh! Right!" Reg said, scraping the last spoonful of soup out of
his bowl. "Wonder who's going to be puppy walking him over
there."

"The one who use to be our very own, pink and pretty, Gilmore,"
Des replied, scraping his spoon around his bowl.

"Craig?"

"How many other gay Sergeant Gilmore's do you know? Any
more of this soup left?" Des asked.

"Well, I did get this for your next course," Reg replied, taking out
a bag from the fridge and holding up a piece of rump steak at
least an inch thick and six inches across."

"Bloody 'ell Reggie babe! We come up on the lottery or
something?"

"Just thought you were looking a bit pale that's all. If you don't
want it I'll eat it."

"Get it under that grill, my son! You can take it out of me body
later," Des replied, his mouth watering as the succulent steak
dropped onto the grill pan.
After his good meal Des was more than ready to go to bed but
despite his rash promises in the kitchen he was asleep as soon
as his head hit the pillow. Cautiously Reg ran a fingertip down
the side of Des's face. He was looking much paler than normal
and the shadows around his eyes had nothing to do with too
much bed and not enough sleep. Satisfied that Des was fast
asleep Reg took an oblong jewellers box out of his bedside
table. Opening it carefully he revealed an exquisite gold crucifix
and chain. The links of the chain glinted slightly in the lamplight.
Moving slowly so as not to disturb Des, Reg fastened it around
the sleeping man's neck. Gently he fingered the healing
punctures on the side of Des's neck, noting the fresh bruising.
He narrowed his eyes in silent anger. Well there wouldn't be
any more of that occurring, not after the amount of soup Des
had eaten. He closed the box and put it back into the bedside
table drawer then climbed into bed intending to sleep until he
had to get up for his shift. As he turned out the light Des moved
towards the new source of warmth in the bed and curled himself
around Reg. Reg smiled as Des spooned up behind him and
gave a contented snort. He wondered if Luke might want to take
advantage of Nigella's recipe for store cupboard soup,
especially after he had adapted the recipe. In Reg's opinion four
whole roasted bulbs of garlic in each batch of soup made it
quite therapeutic when one's partner was looking a bit pale and
anaemic.

Halfway through Reg's shift his mobile 'phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Reggie babe, what's with the jewellery?"

"Don't you like it?"

"It's very nice. It looks very expensive. What do want from me, a
ring?"

Reg coloured up a bright red, much to the amusement of
Robbie Cryer.

"No!"

"Oh, you don't want to stay with me for life then?"

"No, yes!"

"Make up your mind. Why did you buy me a cross and chain? I
know the accent's Liverpool but it doesn't mean to say that's the
colour of me religion."

"Just thought it looked nice, that's all," Reg replied defensively.

"Think you and me need to have a talk when I get off duty," Des
said.

"You're not happy?" Reg questioned softly. "Are you saying you
want to go?"

"No, I still want yer skinny bod, Reggie babe, but I want to know
what yer thinking. All of what yer thinking!" Des said. "And no
wrapping it up. Yer worried about sumthin'. I want to know what.
OK?"

"OK. See you later."

"You will," Des promised as he hung up.

"Everything OK?" Robbie questioned, not at all abashed about
listening in to one side of Reg's conversation.

"Fine," Reg replied, for once not willing to share information.


Des turned up early for his own shift, an act which caused a
raised eyebrow from the duty sergeant.

"What's the matter Des, shit the bed?"

"Very funny Sarge," Des said, going to the locker room to get
changed.  Once in uniform Des went to track down his partner,
he discovered Reg and Luke, heads together, earnestly
discussing something. As soon as Luke saw Des standing in
the doorway he leaned away from Reg, nodded once and then
left quickly.

"Evening Luke."

"Des," Luke replied as he passed.

"What was all that about?" Des asked.

"Luke just wanted some advice on how to cook store cupboard
soup, that's all."

"Looked a bit serious for a discussion on cooking."

"Well he wanted to get it right. A bit of a special occasion."

"Special occasion? Well I hope he doesn't go as mad on the
garlic as you do. I could even smell meself this morning. So,
what's going on Reg? About a ton of garlic in the dinner this
morning, then I wake up to find a very nice expensive looking
crucifix has appeared around me neck. You been watchin' too
many horror movies?"

"Sorry, didn't you like the soup? I won't make it again if that's
the case," Reg replied neatly side stepping the main question.

"No Reggie, that's not the case. Now tell me what you really
thought."

Reg dropped his head, unable to meet his partner's gaze, his
face flushing pink.

"Don't know what you mean, Des!" Reg said, trying for
ignorance.

"Reg, at least look me in the face when yer lying to me," Des
said.

Reg sighed. "I thought Knight was,..." Reg's voice dipped into
inaudibility.

"Was what?" Des question relentlessly.

"A v..."

"What?"

"A vampire. I think he's a vampire!" Reg said rather more loudly
than he intended.

Des looked deeply into the unhappy blue grey eyes before him.
"A vampire?" he asked unnaturally quietly.

"Have you seen the colour of your face lately and what about
those holes in your neck," Reg hissed from a range of a few
inches.

"What holes?"

Reg dragged Des across to the mirror.

"Those holes!"

Des fingered the marks on his neck curiously. "Thought that
was you getting a bit carried away, like."

Reg didn't even bother to reply. The worried frown looking back
at him through the mirror gave Des an inkling of how pale he
was looking. The even more worried frown reflected on Reg's
face told him just how worried his partner was too. He wasn't
buying into the vampire bit but maybe he did need a bit more
rest. He also knew better than to argue with Reg, once he got a
bee in his bonnet about something. Quickly checking around
the locker room before he pulled Reg towards himself for a
sound kiss.

"We're both off duty tomorrow aren't we?"

Reg nodded.

"Right! My turn to make the dinner. A few bevvies down the pub
first, then back for a plateful of tater 'ash then an early night."

"Early. oh right! Good idea. Yeah an early night'll do us both the
world of good."

Des pinched Reg's cheek and said quietly, "And don't worry. I
can look after meself. Alright?"

Reg smiled at his partner.



"I thought Detective Knight would be a little more proactive on
this case," Craig remarked.

"He's taken copies of the case notes," Inspector Parkes replied
absently, looking through a set of reports.

"Copies?" Craig questioned.

"This guy has some strange allergy to sunlight. He can only
come into work when the sun goes down."

"Oh!" Craig replied weakly.

"He's OK. A bit pale but then again, so would you be if you
never saw the sun. He's very fit and up to the job though, never
seen anyone move so fast! We were checking out the last
sighting of the blood collector last night when a couple of
scrotes decided to do over a pair of old ladies for their bingo
money. He was there knocking heads together so fast he was a
blur. You should get on with him very well, I think he said he's
one of your lot."

"What gay?"

"No, Welsh. Or descended from the Welsh. Give you something
to talk about anyway when he comes in," Parkes smiled as he
departed to his own office. Several minutes after sundown there
was a knock on Gilmore's door.

"Enter."

A tall, blonde man strode into Craig's office dressed in civilian
clothing.

"Sergeant Gilmore?" the man asked offering his hand.

Craig stood up and took the proffered hand.
"Detective Knight?" he asked, knowing without being told this
was the Canadian copper. What everyone had failed to mention
though was the force of his personality. He was magnetic and,
as Luke had already told him, very attractive.

"Please, call me Nick."

"Craig. I understand from Inspector Parkes you have already
examined the site of the attack, last night?"

"That's right. But I was hoping you could take me through things
as well, as you actually saw the perp."

"Be glad to. Can you fill me in on your theories?"

"Certainly. If this is the same man he collects blood from six or
eight individuals then kills a further two. Then he turns up in
another city miles away and repeats the pattern."

"How many do you think he has killed?"

"Fourteen across the breadth of Canada from Vancouver,
through Calgary, Regina, Winnipeg, Toronto, Montreal and
Halifax. Then two more in Dublin and two in Paris."

"Sixteen?"

Knight nodded. "When I heard about your Collector, his MO
sounds so similar, I got on a plane and got here as quickly as I
could."

"This one has attacked two people so far and taken a small
amount of blood from each of them. Apart from taking the blood,
he didn't actually hurt them. He blindfolded them and both
victims say he even sterilised the area before taking the blood."

"That is his pattern. He seems to be so careful with the first
ones then seems to lose control with the last two."

"Any idea why he collects blood?"

"None. All the victims are a range of blood groups and ethnic
backgrounds, so he hasn't got a taste for one particular type."

"Mentally ill?"

"Certainly mentally unstable. You and your colleagues here are
the nearest we have to a witness in all these murders."

"Well I'll certainly do all I can to help your investigation."

"Thank you Craig. Dach chi'n Gymri?"

Craig smiled as he replied, "I am Welsh but I don't speak the
language."

"We'll stick to English then, "Knight replied smiling at him.

"Were you born in Wales?"

"No. My family came from South Wales through, several
generations back."

"And you speak Welsh a lot better than I do!"

Knight laughed deprecatingly and changed the subject back to
the murders.
"Do you mind if we take a look around the area where you
arrested the Collector? If it is the same man he quite often
sticks with the same area until he's committed the murders."


Knight was an amusing companion. He was entertaining,
informative, bright and intelligent and Craig found, to his
dismay, he was starting to mildly flirt with the man and what was
even more worrying Knight appeared to be responding. Well
this was definitely one part of the shift he wouldn't be telling
Luke about.
The London air was crisp near the river, Craig's breath fogging
as the water vapour condensed in the night air. Suddenly Craig
was aware they were not as alone as they thought, someone
was following them very stealthily. Surreptitiously Craig
communicated his suspicions to Knight. They walked ever
slower allowing their shadow to catch up then rounded on him.

"Vachon!" Knight said, obviously unhappy at seeing the younger
man.

Craig looked at Knight questioningly.

"Javier Vachon, Craig Gilmore. Vachon is .known to me."

Vachon turned his bright brown eyes onto Knight. "I think what
he is trying, very delicately, to say is that I'm an informant of
his."

"An informant who is a long way from home!" Knight replied
dryly.

"Hey! I like to travel as well. Pleased to meet you Craig
Gilmore," Vachon said offering his hand and looking into his
eyes.
Craig automatically categorised the young man as
Spanish/American, about five ten, very good looking and quite
as much of a charmer as Knight. Craig took his hand and felt
himself falling into the fathomless brown eyes in front of him.

"What a wonderful soul!" Vachon breathed reverently still
holding onto Craig's hand.

Craig was looking blankly down at Vachon totally mesmerised
and unheeding of the conversation around him.

"Yes, he is lovely. Now let him go," Knight warned.

"How can you even think of letting such a bright one go."

Knight grasped his friend around this upper arms and said,
"Use your senses, there's another's scent all over him."

Vachon delicately sniffed the air. "He was making love before
he came out this evening. With another man."

"I think I recognise the scent too. Another police officer, from
Sun Hill."

Vachon moved forward towards Craig despite Knight's
restraining hands on him.

"See with your heart Craig Gilmore, look at me as your heart's
desire," he whispered softly directly into Craig's mind.

Craig blinked and focussed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, lowering his
voice. "You're on early shift tomorrow!"

Vachon drew Craig into the mouth of a darkened alleyway.
"I only wanted a kiss," he whispered.

"You silly sod!" Craig replied affectionately, brushing his hands
down Vachon's face and willingly lowering his head.
Vachon kissed him with all the pent up passion in his five
hundred year old heart. He wanted Craig as he had seldom
wanted anyone. His nobility, compassion, morality, his very
essence drew Vachon to him like a moth to a flame. He was
helpless in resisting this siren's song. Hungrily he took all that
was offered, feeling the change come over him quickly, his
teeth lengthening and his eyes changing. Knight tightened his
hold on his younger friend. A kiss he could allow, anything
further was out of the question. Vachon's teeth nicked Craig's
lip. Silently he savoured the drops of blood which flowed into his
mouth. He truly was an amazing mortal.
Knight pulled him back sharply, at the same time telling Craig to
forget the kiss, and to sit down and go to sleep. Craig
obediently did as was told, sitting down and leaning back
against the building. Knight turned Vachon around and shook
him hard.

"Stop this now! He is not to be harmed. Do you understand
me?"

"'Course I do Knight. Lighten up! What do you think I'm going to
do with him?"

"I know exactly what you want to do with him."

"You're forgetting, I'm the king of sipping!"

"Not even a sip Vachon. He is totally off limits."

"You don't know what you're missing. He's ambrosia."

"What?"

Suddenly Knight changed into a fiend from Hell. His eyes flared
golden red as his lengthened teeth tore savagely into Vachon's
neck. Faintly Knight could taste the few drops of blood Vachon
had taken from Craig. They fizzed against his tongue like the
finest champagne, the goodness and light of his soul falling
across Knight like cool rain in a desert. Faintly he moaned
knowing what he could never have again. Quietly Knight licked
at Vachon's neck until the puncture wounds closed and faded.
He looked down into the brown eyes and shook his head.

"We'd ruin him. All that beautiful light turned to dark the instant
he came across. Better to let him die a natural death than to do
that."

He lowered his head and gently kissed Vachon's mouth.

"Why do you always have to be so damned logical?"

Knight laughed quietly.
 "It's a talent I have," he replied.

"He knows who the Collector is," Vachon reminded him.

Knight considered the statement. This was quite a dilemma. He
or rather they needed to find this Collector before he blew the
cover of the whole vampire community. None of the British
community knew who he was, neither had they been able to get
close enough to stop him. Only a very few police officers had
actually seen the Collector. Between them Knight knew he and
Vachon could influence Craig enough to get him to remember
the night he caught the man, but in order to see him Vachon
would have to take some blood and see his memories within the
flowing living stream. Knight had been keeping to his diet of
animal blood and anyway he knew he didn't have the self
control for 'sipping', which was taking just a little blood from a
mortal, without killing them. A sudden thought struck him.

"How long have you been in town?"

"Coupla days," Vachon replied, prevaricating.

"You? You have, haven't you?"

Vachon tried to look innocent but failed, totally.
"I only took a little!"

"From a good dozen officers!"

"I was hungry!"

"You should have asked the community for help, instead of just
helping yourself," Knight said, annoyed.

"Then you would have found out I was in town and I wanted to
surprise you," Vachon replied, cocky as ever. He knew now
Knight would agree to his sipping from Craig.

"You think you can do it?"

"You'll be there as well."

Knight considered the younger vampire in front of him.
"Is your place nearby?"

"Not too far."

Knight nodded. Between them they each took one of Craig's
arms then together they took off into the night sky. Craig's hat
tumbled from his head and rolled to the edge of the alleyway,
coming to rest on it's flattened top.
Below their rapidly retreating figures a tall man stepped out of
the shadows, his extremely short hair catching the sodium light
as he tracked the unusual trio into the night with pale,
merciless, blue eyes.

"Nicholai," he breathed, then stiffened and melted away again
as pounding feet heralded the arrival of two more spies.

"There! I told you there was something funny about him!" Reg's
voice rang out over the alleyway.

"Reg, just shut up and keep looking where they are going!"
Luke ordered harshly, desperately worried about the safety of
his partner.

Reg was busy unzipping the holdall at his feet. "It's alright I
came prepared," he stated, extracting a wooden stake and a
mallet.

"What good is that going to do unless we can find them first?"
Luke asked.

"Erm, good point that. Yeah, a very good point," Reg conceded.

Luke closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how he got
lumbered with such a dimwit.


Dropping down through a broken skylight, the two vampires
came gently to rest on the top floor of an abandoned
warehouse.

"Through there," Vachon nodded towards a darkened doorway
which led onto a narrow staircase.

"Second door on the right."

Knight turned the door knob but the door didn't open.

"Hold him," Vachon said, allowing Knight to take all of Craig's
weight as he dug in his jeans pocket for a key. Neither vampire
required light, their hunter's vision was perfect for these
conditions. He unlocked the room and pushed open the door. At
the far end a large double bed occupied one corner of the room.
Dotted around the floor were large, thick white candles. Knight
picked Gilmore up and carried him to the bed, putting him down
very gently, whilst Vachon lit the candles with a lighter from his
pocket.  Vachon kicked off his shoes and padded over to the
bed, pulling off his shirt and jacket as he did so.

"Come on, give me a hand," he ordered, undoing Craig's vest.

"Er, what are you doing?" Knight asked, laying a restraining arm
on Vachon.

"Well do you really want to try and explain bloodstains on his
nice white uniform shirt?"

Knight saw the wisdom of his enquiry immediately and set to,
helping to undress Gilmore.
Just as Vachon was starting on Craig's trouser fastenings
Knight, once again, stopped him.

"Don't you think you think you've gone far enough?"

"Well, don't blame me if he ends up with blue balls then!"

Reluctantly Knight allowed him to loosen his trouser fastenings
remembering just how erotic mortals found the process of
sipping.
Vachon made himself comfortable at Craig's side, a leg
between Craig's legs and the rest of his body draped across
Craig's body. He wriggled slightly to get even more relaxed.
Then he noticed Knight sitting cross-legged at the end of the
bed. Annoyed he turned to face the other vampire.

"Is this how you behave at home?" he snapped.

"What?"

"Shoes, Knight! Get the shoes off the duvet!"

Knight rolled his eyes.

"Why are you so worried? You'll be moving on in a few days?"

"No need to ruin the décor, man!"

Knight cast his eyes around the bare, cobwebbed warehouse.
"Very chic!" he muttered, toeing off his shoes, then settling back
against the end of the bed. Vachon glared at him.

"Get on with it!"

"This is my scene, Knight."

"Now Vachon, or I'll do more than sip from you."

Vachon's eye lids lowered, his gaze dipping into sultry.
"Promises, promises," he whispered.

Knight laughed.
"Later," he promised. "After we have the Collector."

Vachon grinned.
"I might hold you to that."

"Oh you will! You most definitely will," Knight breathed. They
exchanged a smile then Vachon turned back to the mortal.
Unable to help himself Vachon ran his hand down the lightly
furred chest under his own cool skin. A faint smile flickered
across Craig's face in response. Vachon turned Craig's face
towards himself and licked his neck, intending to carefully bite
down but even in his unconscious state Gilmore seemed to
sense it wasn't his partner on the bed with him and began to
struggle. After the fourth fruitless attempt Vachon sighed and
asked Knight,

"Any ideas?"

"Make love to him."

Vahon's head jerked around to fast he nearly got whiplash
injuries. Knight smiled slightly.

"Let him think he's with his lover. He should let you then."

Vachon concentrated, picking up the mortal heartbeat and
blending his suggestion in time with the cadence.

"Let your heart see. See me with your heart. Make love to your
love.." Vachon chanted softly over and over again. Gradually he
felt Craig relax against him until his eyes flickered open and he
said dreamily,

"Luke?"

Vachon leaned down to kiss him and was surprised to be
caught up in a hard hug and rolled over, his mouth plundered
with deep kisses. Not one to waste an opportunity Vachon went
with the flow, allowing Craig free access to his body, letting the
man touch him where ever wanted. Before long Vachon seized
his chance and bit down into his neck making Craig groan with
erotic pleasure. Vachon drew mouthfuls of blood into himself
quickly, deriving as much gratification from the act as the
mortal. He sifted through the memories and emotions coming to
him in the blood; his love for his partner, irritation with work,
then he caught a glimpse of the face he needed to see. At last,
the man they needed to catch. A very good looking man, early
thirties, apparently bright and intelligent but devious as well.
Through the blood link Vachon received no impression he was
anything other than mortal. Then a faint tang of something less
than wholesome filled his mouth. Just to be sure, Vachon took
another gulp. There it was again, at the very edge of even his
senses. He'd tasted this sickness before in other people.
Immediately Vachon drew back.

"Sleep!" he commanded, sending Craig into a very deep sleep.
Vachon sat staring down at Craig, a hand across his mouth, his
long dead heart constricting with sorrow.

"Vachon?"

He looked up at Knight, his eyes glistening.

"Did you see him? Is he one of ours?"

"He's mortal but I know who to look for," Vachon replied dully.

Knight regarded his companion before asking,

"What's the matter?"

"Knight, he's going to get sick. I can taste the very early stages
in his blood."

"Sick?"

"It's HIV."

"Are you sure?"

Vachon held out his own wrist, letting Knight taste for himself.
After a few gulps Knight's golden eyes took on a sorrowful cast,
an expression which remained as they returned to blue.

"Knight?"

"No Vachon. Bringing him across is not an option. Let him take
his own path."

"But he can do so much good."

"How very touching!"

The sarcastic tones cut across the warehouse like a hot knife
through butter.

"LaCroix!" Knight ground out.

"Nicholai, it is a very long time since we were last in London
together. Let me see, nineteen forty three wasn't it?"

Knight didn't reply.

"Vachon is going to lose his servant, is he? Never mind. You
should try binding the next one. They keep rather better that
way. Nicholai, the leader of the British Community is holding a
little soiree tomorrow evening. Do try and get the evening off,
my dear. It would be such bad form to refuse her invitation.
Bring young Javier with you as well. He needs to broaden his
horizons."

Having delivered his instructions LaCroix crossed the
warehouse, kissed his son on the forehead then left just as
quietly and quickly as he'd arrived.
Vachon was looking down at Craig, lost in thought.

"Knight! Did he...?" Vachon asked, dumbfounded.

"He can't have!"

"I think he did. Binding!"

"LaCroix! Suggest something to help a mortal?"

"He did!"

"I can't believe this!"

"Neither can I. Maybe he's getting soft in his old age."

Knight turned his blue gaze onto Vachon.

"You want to tell him that?"

Vachon gave a sickly smile and shook his head. Vachon
wondered just how long it would take him to die if he tried to tell
LaCroix he thought he was getting soft. Or perhaps he would be
merciful and just stake him out in the path of the rising sun.
Whichever method chosen it was sure to involve a lot of pain!
Two sets of stealthy footsteps approaching the room sent the
two vampires to flatten themselves each side of the doorway.
Cautiously Luke open the door, very surprised to feel himself
pulled bodily into the room. More frightening than the bloody
eyed and fanged demon in front of him though was the sight of
Craig, still and silent, lying on the bed with a streak of blood
running over his breast.

"Craig!" Luke wailed, flailing to get away from Vachon and run
to his partner.

Vachon easily held him and sniffed the air around him. This
mortal was the source of the scent which lay all over Craig.

"He's yours?" Vachon ground out, his fangs making it sound like
a threat rather than a question.

Luke nodded.
"Don't hurt him, please. You can have my blood. Please don't
hurt him," Luke begged, his brown eyes wide and frightened.
This was way outside anything he had been taught at Hendon.

"Go to sleep!" the fanged one growled.

"Why?" Luke asked.

"Sleep!" the fanged man repeated.

"No," Luke replied. "What are you going to do to Craig?"

To his surprise the man with the fangs dropped him and turned
to Detective Knight at his side, his face rapidly going back to
human.
"Why? Why do I always get the resistors? Why? Why? Why?
Why? Why?"

Knight shrugged and said facetiously, having subdued Reg
without any trouble whatsoever,

"Luck of the draw."

"What are you going to do with us?" Luke asked in a small
voice. He was still leaning protectively towards Craig.

"Nothing," Knight replied. "We only want to find the Collector. All
we ask is that you don't give us away."

Luke searched his eyes then nodded.

"Do you know he's sick?" Vachon asked.

"What? No! How sick?"

"HIV, very early stages," Vachon replied.

"But he can't be. His test came back negative!" Luke ran across
the warehouse to gaze down at Craig, unaware of the tears
running down his face. He hardly noticed when Vachon gently
turned his wrist and took some blood. He turned to Knight and
nodded. Both of them were infected with the virus.
Luke turned his tear-stained face to Vachon.

"Can you do anything to help him? Make him like you. He won't
get ill then, will he?" Luke asked.

"No, he won't get ill, but he won't want to be with you either,"

"It doesn't matter, as long as he's well," Luke sobbed.

Knight put his hand on Luke's shoulder and said, "There is
something we can do but we won't make him like us."

"Do it! Please, do it!"

"Not now. The day after tomorrow. Leave your address for me
and we'll call round. Tonight Craig is going to help us catch a
killer."

"You promise?" Luke asked, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"I promise," Knight agreed. "Now help us get him dressed
again."

"What about Reg?"

"We'll send Reg home, in one piece," Vachon said, eyeing the
mortal still standing at the door, complete with mallet and stake.
"Does he always go out on duty armed like that?" he asked
Luke, curiously.


Dressing Craig back in his shirt and jumper was easier with
three people, especially one who handled Craig's body with
confidence and love. Even though Craig was deeply asleep
Luke kept talking to Craig and telling him exactly what they
were doing until they had him dressed and with his body armour
in place.

"Where's his hat?" Luke asked.

"Erm, fell off I think," Vachon told him.

"He'll go ape-shit!" Luke replied.

"We can take him back to the alley. We can take you both back
to the alley."

"He's going to think something is well wrong if he sees me
there," Luke reminded them.

"No he won't," Knight corrected him.

Luke frowned.

"We made him think you were there to get him to talk to us,"
Vachon supplied helpfully.

"And I'm supposed to trust you two?"

"All we want is the man who is committing the murders," Knight
assured him.

"And is he?"

"Is he what?" Knight asked, confused.

"A man or one of you?"

"He's a man."

"But you thought he was one of you, didn't you? That's why
you're over here," Luke asked. "Are you really a police officer?"

"Yes, I am really a police officer," Knight said.

"And I am really his snout," Vachon said, propping his chin on
Knight's shoulder and looking at him sideways. Knight smiled
sideways at him then moved away.
"Does Reg live nearby?"

Luke gave them his address.

"Drop him about half a mile from home and let him walk, then
come back here," Knight instructed.

It didn't take long for Vachon to complete his task. He knew how
Knight was going to set the scene without being told. As soon
as he returned Knight picked Craig up as if he weighed nothing
and made his way out to the room with the broken skylight. He
placed Craig upright, standing behind him he took a firm hold
around his chest and then flew up.

Luke gasped.
"That must be amazing!" he said, then jumped, startled as
Vachon's arms crept around his chest from behind.

"It is!" he replied just before he too took off.  Luke clutch
convulsively at the arms around his chest, his heart hammering
against his ribs.

"Relax!" Vachon shouted above the noise of their passing
through the air. "I won't drop you."

Luke looked down at the darkened buildings and yellow haloes
of streetlights below him picking out the roads and paths he was
used to walking. The flight was very short, only a couple of
minutes, but Vachon did extend it a little. Daringly he flew over
Sun Hill nick, then darted back to where they were supposed to
be.

"Don't say a word to Knight," he whispered as they touched
down. Luke grinned and shook his head.

"What kept you?" Knight asked, sounding annoyed.

"Nothing. Not as fast as you," Vachon lied.

Knight glared at him but decided not to argue. By this point he
had found Craig's hat and placed it on his head. Craig was
standing apparently staring at a wall, out of the way of the
streetlight.

"You know what to do. Call me when you've found him," he said
to Vachon.

Vachon nodded once then took off again, Luke watching him fly
with envious eyes.

"It's not all fun and games," Knight told him.

"It looks fantastic. You live forever, you can fly..."

"We can never go out in the sunshine, we don't go to a place of
rest when we die, we can't love like you do, we can never have
children once we're like this. If we had children before we come
across we can watch our families perish in front of us, we can
even see our grandchildren and great grand children grow old
and die in front of us. We always outlive our mortal friends.
Shall I go on?"

The longing and loneliness in Knight's voice was so obvious
Luke felt ashamed of his reaction and shook his head. He could
go out in the sun for walks with Craig and he could make love
with his soul mate whenever they wanted and hopefully they
would grow old together. That outweighed anything else.
Knight told Luke to stand in front of Craig and kiss him. As he
did so he released his control over Craig.
Craig couldn't remember the last time Luke kissed him with
such passion and ardour. A little discomforted he pulled back.

"Luke, are you alright?"

He nodded and kissed him again, this time gentle and sweet.

"Are you sure you're OK?" Craig whispered.

"I'm fine. You'd better go before Knight comes back."

Craig held Luke's face between his hands, looking into his
shadowed eyes. Luke wrapped his arms around Craig's neck
and pulled him into a hard hug.

"I love you," he whispered into Craig's ear.

Craig was now seriously worried. He could count on the fingers
of one hand the number of times Luke had deliberately sought
him out when one or both were on duty. Before he had a
chance to get to the bottom of Luke's odd behaviour he heard
Knight shouting for him.

"We'll talk later," Craig promised.

"No need. I just wanted a kiss. I've missed you," Luke told him.
He stroked his hand down Craig's face then slipped away.
Exasperated Craig looked after his retreating mate before
turning him mind to duty once again and joining Knight.  Knight
was just replacing his mobile 'phone in his pocket.

"Vachon, he says he's got a lead on the Collector. A housing
complex behind St Gemma's hospital."

"Right, this way. We can cut across the playing fields. ETA
about ten minutes."

Knight nodded and followed Craig's lead, quietly impressed with
the man. Slightly less than ten minutes later they were looking
up at a window on the second floor.

"He's in there," Vachon said softly. "Looked like he'd just come
in from work."

Automatically Craig checked the time. Twenty past ten. The
man could be a shift worker. Then his eyes strayed to the
brightly-lit hospital. Or he could work in the hospital. As they all
looked, the light went out and less than a minute later a white
man in his early thirties emerged from the security door.
Without thinking Craig stood up and went towards the man.

"Good evening," he said cheerily.

"Hello," the man replied, his voice sounding a little nervous.

"Don't know if you remember me, I'm Sergeant Gilmore.."

He didn't get any further in his explanations before the man
whipped out a long thin bladed knife and lunged at Craig with it.
His vest took the brunt of the attack but his instinctive reaction
of holding his arms up to protect his face cost him a cut
forearm. The struggle was over nearly before it began as Knight
and Vachon waded in to subdue the man. What had seemed to
be a perfectly approachable man had transformed into a
spitting, violent struggling madman. Using his uninjured arm
Craig spoke into his radio and asked for immediate
transportation for a violent prisoner, then handcuffed the man
as he lay face down on the ground.

"Are you alright?" Knight asked, smelling the blood rather than
seeing it.

"Fine, just a small cut. Nothing to worry about," he replied.

Their prisoner seemed to be veering between furious demands
to be released and begging to be released. Craig knelt down to
talk to him.

"What's your name? Your real name I mean."

"Need it! Need much more. Won't work without more."

"What won't work?" Craig asked curiously.

"Won't work unless I get some more, you know. Give me some
of yours!"

With a sinking feeling Craig asked,
"What is it you want?"

"I want more blood. I'll only take a little this time. Just a little."

"What are you going to do with it?"

The man laughed, a strangely high pitched sound, which was at
odds coming from such a well muscled handsome man. Craig
knew the man would have had little problem getting anyone to
trust him. His face looked so open and honest as well as being
good looking.

"Look, there's blood here," Craig said, lifting his injured hand
and letting drops of the red fluid drip from his finger tips. "What
are you going to do with it?"

The man groaned.

"Don't waste it. I need it. Give it to me," he pleaded as he tried
to move, snake like, on his belly towards the blood. Knight
easily held him back, whilst averting his head from the open
temptation in front of him.
Vachon was faring better, having fed early in the evening.

"What are you going to do with the blood," Vachon asked softly.

"Drink it! I want to live! I want to live forever. I need to suck the
life into me. Please let me, please!" he begged, trying to wriggle
out of Knight's grasp.
Craig frowned at the deluded man on the floor. Instinctively he
knew even if the man was pronounced fit enough to stand trial
he would be spending the rest of his life in a high security
hospital. As a final touch the flashing blue light from the area
car cast an air of unreality over the scene. Never in his wildest
dreams did Craig ever think he would be tracking down
murderous wanna-be vampires!

"Thank you very much for all your help Inspector," Knight said,
smiling and shaking the other man's hand.

"Don't thank me, it's all down to you and Craig. Just glad you've
got that man off the streets. It'll take a couple of days to arrange
the transportation authority so until then I suggest you take the
time off, do some sight-seeing," Inspector Parkes suggested.

"Thank you. I think I might do just that," Knight replied, smiling.

He hadn't gone more than half a dozen steps from the police
station when Vahon caught up with him.

"All set?"

"All set."

They rounded a corner into a darkened street and both took off,
two dark shadows in the night sky.

Cautiously Luke opened the door, then smiled when he saw his
visitors. Knight smiled down at the eager young man.

"Hi Nick, Javier!" then lowering his voice he said, " We've eaten
and I've made it look like four of us had a meal, and I've opened
a bottle of red wine."

He ushered his guests into the house, which brought Craig out
of the kitchen.

"Hello Nick, is every thing sorted out?"

"It'll take a couple of days but there shouldn't be any problems,"
Knight replied affably, "How's the arm feeling?"

"Fine. It's only a couple of stitches," Craig replied.

"Good," Knight said then he exerted his formidable influence
over Craig, neatly catching him and guiding him back to sit him
down on a chair around the kitchen table. The kitchen stunk of
roasted garlic which made both vampires curl their lips in
disgust.

"What now?" Luke asked.

"Pour two glasses of wine," Vachon instructed, whilst taking off
his jacket and rolling back the sleeve of his shirt.
Luke rushed to comply with the request.  Coolly Knight bit into
his own wrist letting three drops of blood drip into each glass.
Vachon then did the same, allowing just three drops of his own
blood to mix with the wine and blood already in the glasses.

"We're mixing it so you won't be bound to just one of us," Knight
explained picking up one of the glasses and placing it against
Craig's lips.

"Craig, drink your wine," he instructed.

Obediently Craig drank the mix until the glass was empty.

"Now you," Vachon said, pointing to the remaining glass.

"Me?"

"Do you want to leave him on his own if you get sick and die?"
Vachon asked, in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. He
still hadn't told Luke he'd detected the virus in his bloodstream
too.
Hesitantly Luke picked up the glass, looking into the murky
depths, then he quickly gulped back the contents before he had
a chance to change his mind.

"I don't feel any different," he said a few minutes later.

"You won't feel any difference at all. You'll just be able to
recognise our kind more easily," Knight told him kindly. "But
you'll stay in good health for a long time..." he was interrupted
by someone hammering on the door.
Luke looked at the two immortals in front of him then got up
slowly to answer the door.

"Reg, Des," he said weakly. "Come in."

"We're not stopping," Des said immediately.

"No, we were just passing and I thought I'd drop this off for
you," Reg said, offering a cookbook to Luke.

"Come in and join us," Craig invited from the kitchen doorway.

Des sauntered down the hall like he owned the place but
stopped short when he saw Vachon and Knight sitting at their
ease around the kitchen table.

"Didn't realise you had company," he said.

"Hi Des," Knight said, smiling. Vachon nodded in his direction
but said nothing.

"We've just been enjoying Reg's recipe," Knight said.

Des took a deeper breath of the atmosphere in the kitchen.

"What? The garlic and pea one?"

"Wonderful!" Vachon said reverently. "Absolutely delicious."

Des turned and grinned at Reg before asking,

"You've all had some of it?"

A chorus of 'Yes,' greeted his question.

"Followed by a pretty garlicky beef casserole as well, so sorry
about the smell," Craig said.

"No problem Sarge. We like garlic as well. Anyway, we'll get off.
Just dropped the book in for Luke," Des said, taking a pretty
confused-looking Reg by the arm and steering him towards the
door.

Luke saw them out but only Knight and Vachon heard the quiet
exchange as they walked down the path.

"Reggie babe, I love ya, but you're an idiot sometimes.
Vampires!"

"Maybe Canadian ones can eat garlic," Reg said. "I mean..."

The rest of his sentence was cut off by Des' raucous laughter.



Six days later Luke was struggling to change the plaster on his
shoulder. It was difficult trying to stick a new one on there using
a mirror, he kept moving in the wrong direction. Finally he got
the plaster in place over the bite mark and patted the edges
down. Craig had been appalled when he realised he'd nipped
Luke hard enough to draw blood when they were making love.
Luke hadn't minded at all, in fact, he'd hardly noticed as his love
life with Craig was getting better and better. Silently Luke closed
his eyes in order to better replay the memory of last night in his
mind. That had been the best yet. They seemed to be so much
more in tune with each other, each seemingly able to read the
other's mind as to what touches and caresses they wanted and
when. He sighed in contentment and opened his eyes. The
reflection in the mirror regarded him with a look of dreamy
contentment in its golden eyes. He shook his head and looked
again, his vision blurring for a second. When he refocused it
was to see his normal dark eyes staring back at him. Must have
been a trick of the light, he told himself, dismissing the
momentary aberration and turning to think about what they
needed from the supermarket. More steak, definitely. They both
seemed to be eating a lot of red meat just lately. Vaguely he
wondered if Craig liked steak tartar. Mmmm, now there was a
thought, strips of raw steak draped over Craig's body just
waiting for him to eat it off, piece by piece and then lick all the
blood from his skin afterwards. Grinning he smacked his lips
and headed downstairs whistling cheerfully and totally unaware
of the golden sparkles dancing in his deep brown eyes.