Something Remembered

Parkside Heights Condominiums - Kieran's Penthouse



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Brooke Bishop Kieran Collins

Music from the ball is still filtering through her head, despite the fact that she has slept. Brooke is waking up in unfamiliar surroundings, feeling as though she's got to remember something.

Stretching her body out, she stares up at the ceiling. There is a lot of quiet time spent recalling the previous night, and a slow smile appears on her face. Rolling over, she leans in to press a sweet kiss to Kieran's cheek.

Only she freezes completely before her lips even get close to his skin.

Blue eyes widen in surprise, and she sets a hand to his chest. She can feel the heart beating, but it's not stopping her mind from focusing on what is just there beneath the surface.

Her 'boyfriend' is not human.

Moving slowly, she starts to draw herself out of bed. Trying to figure out what to do. Her heart racing. Her mind already running through the different scenarios with Regina, and trying to work out ways to put a better spin on things.


'Sleep' for a vampire is not the same as sleep for a human. It's more like a light twilight napping. It allows them to rest, a little, but doesn't revive and invigorate them the way that a true torpor does. Kieran fell 'asleep' early this morning after quite an enthusiastic pre-Ball celebration, with a beautiful, enthusiastic red-head witch draped over his chest. The bedroom blinds are heavy vinyl and automated, shuttering the room into perfect darkness when the sun's rays do begin to reach the western bedroom. There are motion lights along the walls and floor boards, pale lights that illuminate the paths for those who might venture in when the light is shut out: namely Nichole, sometimes Owen, but the wolf doesn't need the lighting anymore than Kieran does.

He left the runners on last night, for Brooke, just in case the witch rose in late morning, early day hours and needed to get around. Kieran hasn't quite figured what he'll tell her about the place being so dark, but he's good at playing it by ear.

As she sets a hand to his chest, his brow wrinkles faintly, dredging himself up from the twilight sleep. He feels it then. Hears it, smells it. That surprise, that wariness, that primal fear. All things she should have no reason to feel.

Kieran waits until he hears her reach the edge of the bed, hears her feet touch the floor and rolls quietly onto his side, blinking his eyes open. "Aren't I the one who's supposed to tip toe out of the bed in the morning?"


Every attempt is made to keep an outward calm. Something that, in Brooke's panicked state, is extremely difficult to do. "When it's not your place," she explains, as calmly as she can. She wants to run to the window and pull the blinds open, but the problem there is that she's on the wrong side of the bed.

He's a vampire, her brain shouts at her, and she wonders why she's never realized it before. Always picking her up in the evening or sending a car. Except for the Ball. Which, her mind continues, Can easily be explained away by magic.

"Don't move," she says quietly. "Stay where you are."


The witch is definitely panicked. Like a smart panicky animal, she's portraying a calm facade but Kieran can hear her heart thundering in her chest. Her breath is quick, her eyes wide and there's a sharp change in her scent. Almost as though she's aware that she's in the presence of a predator.

No, she can't be. Kieran is certain that the glamour held, and he did nothing to make her remember what he told her to forget. Then what? A million scenarios go through his mind: a text message from Regina, a warning from another coven member … but he hadn't heard a phone chime or vibrate. Of course tehre are magical means.

Playing dumb, Kieran casually tucks an arm beneath his head. "Let me guess, you're going to surprise me with breakfast?"


"Not on your fucking life," Brooke says to him, trying to locate her overnight bag that she packed on the way back from the Ball. It too is out of reach, sitting at the foot of the bed. Which means moving closer to him again.

"I'm sure you've already taken what you want." Her hand goes to her neck. Rubbing it around her throat, she frowns. There's no marks. Flipping her wrists over she allows herself a second to look at those before she glares at him.

"Where did you bite me?"


"Kinky," Kieran says in a playful sing-song voice. He waggles his brows. "I had no idea you were into that, luv."

He is a very good actor and a master manipulator of situations. The vampire is giving nothing away, despite his burning curiosity to know what she thinks she knows, what she actually knows, and how in the bloody hell she remembered anything.

He's not denying biting her, but she'll never find a mark. Considering that in the midst of passion and lust it was so easy to slip a few drops of his blood into her wine and distract her from what she thought she might have tasted.

He sits up, slowly, but makes no move to get out of bed, instead fluffing a pillow behind his head as the sheet falls away and pools around his waist. "Want to tell me what's gotten you all wound up this morning, Brooke?"


Giving her wrist a sharp flick and muttering several angry words in Latin, Brooke glares at him. It is definitely not a witch spell she's using, as in essence she's causing a cerebral aneurysm to burst inside him.

"I said don't move!" He may just be sitting up, but she can't trust that. Vampires can move quickly. He can kill her or wipe her memory in a matter of seconds.


"Fuck! Brooke!" Kieran's hands go to his head, and the witch doesn't have to worry about him leaving the bed just yet. He bites his lip hard enough to draw a drop of blood, blue eyes attempting to glare at her through the pain. Once it subsides, he looks mildly displeased.

Kieran takes a moment to calm himself, though he knows he's going to have to get to her and glamour her as quickly as possible very soon. "What. The. Hell. Was. That. For?"


"You're a fucking vampire, Kieran."

Another flick of her wrist is given, another spell cast. This time a simpler one; binding. Just to keep him still so that she can make a run for her overnight bag.

Rushing toward it, she grabs it and pulls it over by the door. Digging out her shirt, she tosses it over her head and begins to dig around for a pair of panties and her capris.


"You're not supposed to remember that, yet." Probably not the wisest answer to give considering that he can't move and the witch is in a highly agitated and panicked state at the moment.

"Yes, I'm a vampire and you're still alive, so let's just calm down and think for a moment, yeah? What do you think I'm going to do to you Brooke, that I haven't had ample time to do the past month or so?"


"Remember that yet? What else am I not supposed to remember?" At least she's not causing his brain to bleed again yet. Brooke finds the clothing she's looking for and puts them on as quickly as possible. She forgoes brushing her hair, and just uses a loose elastic in the bag to pull it back into a quick, messy ponytail.

"Right. So you're not wanting to kill me yet. And Gabriel? He's a vampire too, isn't he? I damned well knew it and I kept telling Bridget not to make the accusation unless she was positive."


"So what are you doing with Sera? Are you grooming her to become a vampire? Using her as a quick meal ticket?"


"That's what you want with me, isn't it?"


"I don't want to kill you at all," Kieran rolls his eyes and sounds incredibly bored with the entire subject. "Honestly, what is it with you lot always thinking that all we want to do is kill you? If we killed every human we crossed paths with, there'd be none of you left and we'd die of starvation." Probably not the logic that she wants to hear, but that's precisely what it is: pragmatic logic.

"I don't want to kill you because I like you. Which I know you're going to completely not believe."

The vampire sighs and settles as much as he can. He looks for all the world like he's the one holding court and not the one being held in place by magical bonds. "We've had this entire conversation before, luv. You wanted to forget so that you could have plausible deniability when Regina saw us together at the Ball. I'm the bastard who lured in the unsuspecting witch and you're the innocent in all of this." Kieran looks a bit annoyed and confused for a moment. "Which you weren't supposed to remember any of until I told you to remember."

He hasn't broached the subject of Gabriel or Sera, and doesn't intend to unless she forces it.


"Fine. You want to use me as a living, breathing blood bag. Whatever." In a way, that's actually worse in Brooke's mind. A dark look crosses her face and she mutters something in Latin, sending another aneurysm his way.

"I would never want to forget that, Kieran. I would never have gone to the Ball with you had I known what you were." That's why he made her forget, she's sure of it.

"You've bitten me. You've erased my memories, apparently, and you purposefully took me to the ball so you could snub your nose at Regina and the Coven."

It's going to be a nightmare to clean up this mess.


"I don't need to use you as a blood - " The force of the spell takes him off guard and it's only sheer force of will that stops Kieran from losing his human face and letting the demon show through. He grits through the pain, waiting until the wave passes and growls out. "I have plenty of living breathing blood bags. Some on speed dial. I don't need to use you for that."

Drawing an unneeded breath, Kieran closes his eyes. He's not terribly worried that she'll come after him with a stake; she would have done so already if that were intention. She's human, and like most, she wants answers. She wants explanations, and she cares about him. No matter how much she wants to hate him and be disgusted right now. She's angry, she's bitter, but … true to the letter of the law, he's never hurt her.

"Find a bite mark," Kieran instructs her, his voice calm. "Go on. Go in the bathroom if you must. Strip down and find a bite mark."


"I'll wait." As if he has any choice otherwise.


"Like you've got a choice," Brooke replies angrily, mimicking his thoughts. "Well if you've got plenty of living, breathing blood bags, you don't need this one. Especially if you've got them on speed dial."

If he doesn't want to kill her, and he doesn't want to feed from her, she has no idea what he wants her for. Other than to snub his nose at Regina.

"I've got a better idea. You wait here, and I go home." Picking up the overnight bag, she slings it over her shoulder and tries to recall where in his monstrous penthouse apartment she dropped her purse.


"Brooke, you need to calm down for just a minute." He's been patient, he's been downright patronizing, but Kieran is getting a wee bit tired now. His voice has shifted tone, soft and soothing. It's not quite as good as a glamour, but the chances of getting her to look at him long enough until she's calm are slim to none. "Just calm down and listen to me."


"Whatever is going on that pretty little head of yours, whatever you think this is, you're wrong. I haven't spent the past month with you just to use you against the Coven. I wouldn't have invested all that time and energy if that's what I wanted."


"Then what is it, Kieran?" No, Brooke is not going to calm down, and the soothing voice really doesn't help. It just makes her feel as though he's talking down to her. As though she's not good enough. The same way some of her clients do.

"You have sixty seconds to explain yourself, then I'm out of here. Whether it was your intention or not, thumbing your nose at Regina last night is not doing me any favors." Brooke is going to need to clear that up. Explain herself. The last thing she wants to do is lose the Coven or her family.


Kieran spends at least ten of those seconds being quiet. Making sure he has her attention, even if she avoids looking at him. "I like you. I've already said that."


"What happens to you if you had no idea what I was? If you were just some puppet on a string, some poor little witch that I fooled solely to mess with Regina and the Coven?" Kieran tilts his head consideringly. "Nothing. It's 'Poor Brooke, bad evil Kieran, vampires are demonic blood suckers, and what do we expect.' You keep your family. You keep your Coven. Because you're the victim." Kieran pauses and rolls his eyes dramatically, "And really, Regina expects no better from me."

He exhales a slow sigh. "I came clean with you, and you chose to forget. You had too much to lose. So, I took it all away. Because I like you, Brooke. Because I'm fond of you, and I enjoy being with you, and believe it or not, whatever bogey man tales you've been told about us, it's entirely possible. We feel things. We want things. We make connections, and you and I, we made one."


"You are a demonic blood sucker," Brooke points out. Even if that is the case, she has no clue what to do now. He's not incorrect. They did make a connection, and she does (correction did) care for him.

There's the logical part of her telling her to get home, lock her door, and call Regina.

Then there's the emotional part of her that's telling her to stay here and hear him out.

They seem to be arguing back and forth for quite a while, before she throws her hands up.

"I'm going home. I expect you to leave me alone."

There's the lingering thought of Oh god I let him into my house. I wonder if there's truth in that…

"Once I'm safely in a vehicle, on my way away from here… you'll be able to move."


Kieran doesn't argue with her. He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling. "If that's what you want." She's panicked, she's angry, she's unreasonable. She shouldn't even be able to remember what he is and he's still unclear on why she has. In four hundred years, he's never had a glamour fail, particularly when the victim was willing.

Kieran needs to make some calls and get in touch with some contacts. Starting with putting Sera on the line with her boyfriend in the Priory.

"I don't tend to go where I'm not wanted anyway."


"Good. I will do whatever damage control I am able to, Mr. Collins. You won't have to worry about Regina or the Coven beating down your door." Just because Brooke figures that's where his mind is going.

"Have a good afternoon."

There is that. He won't be able to follow her out into the sunlight. So that is a plus as far as she's concerned. She'll have a few hours to figure out if there's a spell to keep him out of her apartment.


"You may want to think really carefully about what you want to say before you go storming the Coven castle." Kieran is still unflappably calm for an immobilized vampire being faced with a scorned witch. "Right now you're still the innocent victim. Careful how you spin it, luv. You might start to look like there are some memories worth digging for." It really is a warning, though he doubts she'll take it as such.

He smirks at her, that half-cocksure, half-flirty grin that gets him in so much trouble, but also gets him out ofit. "I'm not worried about Regina. I never hurt you, Brooke. Never laid a hand on you … well, you know what I mean. You're walking out of here, unharmed, when I could have overpowered you before you got a spell off. I am a complete dick and a bastard, but I'm innocent of harm."


"I am an expert at the proper spin, Mr. Collins. After all, it's what I do for a living." Not everything Brooke does is about promoting events like Sera's book signing. A lot of what she does is put a spin on things in the media for her clients so that their mistakes don't look hardly as bad as what they really are.

Brooke just glares at that look, and shrugs her shoulders.

"The only way you would've overpowered me is if you'd realized what I was doing. And that was not a witch spell." She could have had him curled up in a ball on the bed before she bound him. "Regardless, I'd like to stay unharmed. So, goodbye, Kieran."


"Goodbye Brooke." Kieran gives her a polite friendly smile. "When the rest of it comes back to you … I'd like a nice bottle of Glenmoirange. I can even suggest a shop that will import just the right vintage."

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