Visiting Hour

Mike is always jumpy when he comes home after dark these days. He's too far gone in the Code V project; every shadow out of the corner of his eye looks like it could be someone come to kill him -- pre-emptive self-defense, he supposes.

He fits the key in the lock, opens the door to his flat cautiously and slowly.

He should have gone fast. He might have gotten in and closed the door behind him before anything could have happened.

A heavy weight slams into his back, propelling him forward, and he's reaching for his gun even as he falls, because if he lands pinned and doesn't have it out yet, he's lost completely.

He and the leech hit the floor in a tangle of limbs, unnervingly silent, just harsh breathing and the scuffle as it tries to pin his arms and he tries to get the snub nose of the gun pointed where it will do most good --

And Jack smiles at him, when he jabs the barrel into Jack's ribs. "We keep doing this, Mike. And here I thought I was your friend, once."

Mike tries not to let the sick feeling in his gut show on his face. "Once, yeah. When you were human."

Jack's weight on him is warm and solid, and he brushes Mike's hair back from his face with one casual hand. "I'm still the same person, Mike. And you know it. Despite all the brainwashing they've tried on you," his fingers trail down Mike's jaw, trace the veins in his neck, rest lightly on the frantic pulse in his throat, "you know me. Can you really kill me a second time? Do you have enough friends left to be able to do that?"

Mike can feel his hand shaking, the gun unsteady. He doesn't trust his voice.

"I don't want to hurt you," Jack continues, and Mike knows he's lying, but it hardly matters, because the important part is that he's right about Mike not wanting to kill him again. Even when Jack licks his lips and smiles at him, and leans in just a little closer, Mike only tenses. He can't pull the trigger. Not this time.

"Don't do this," he manages to say. "Please."

Jack smiles, leans in close as a lover, breathes the answer into Mike's neck. "But I want to. And you'll let me, won't you?"

As Jack's fangs sink into his neck, Mike whispers, broken, "Yes."