americas_son | (no subject)

(no subject)

There was one and only one thing about this that was lacking:

It wasn't a meal. It was barely a snack. And it definitely wasn't about eating.

Now it's well into nighttime, and Cal is hungry.

Time to go do something about that.

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Sherlock turns away, tucking his hands into his pockets.

'Melts into the shadows' would be overstating the point, but if Cal looks elsewhere and back again, he will find that Sherlock is not there anymore. Parks are good for that sort of thing.

Cal doesn't look back.

He takes the opposite tack, dropping carelessly onto a park bench, where he pulls out his cellphone and proceeds to look deeply absorbed in some texting.

It transpires that he manages to interrupt a mugging.

Both participants are still drawing breath when he leaves them, unconscious and no longer bleeding, by the side of the path. As to whether they will continue to do so, well, that is not his business. He'd swear to the victim's health before the criminal's, though, because he took them in the opposite order and he was hungrier the first time.

It's amazing, how quickly a random guy sitting on a park bench can draw attention. Especially a good-looking teenager.

"Is this spot taken?"

No, it isn't. Cal invites her to sit with a smile. She apologizes as she sits for sounding a little slurred; the braces are new and she's still getting used to them.

At least she won't have to worry about them anymore.

Sherlock is back at the car first. He leans against the passenger-side door, aware that he is echoing his better half's posture from earlier but unwilling to do anything about it.

Cal pushes the body under the bench. It's unlikely that anyone will find it before they're well clear of the neighborhood, but just in case. Someone calling the cops a little too soon would make travel kind of a hassle.

He heads back to the car, flicking a brief glance at Sherlock as he pulls out his keys.

"Did you eat well?" he inquires.

"Yep."

Cal unlocks the car and gets in, waiting until the doors are closed before he says,

"I should've gotten here a few days ago, I'd've saved her parents a fortune in dentist bills."

"Orthodontist," Sherlock corrects, smiling.

"Whatever."

Cal shoves the key into the ignition.

He shrugs.

Cal resists the urge to peel out into the street, instead pulling out at a normal speed. But only to avoid drawing attention.

Sherlock sits still and quiet in the passenger seat.

A vampire can manage still and quiet very, very well.

Still is not an option when you're driving.

But Cal can do quiet.

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