Illusions

Who: Regan & Kurt
Where: Spruce Street
When: Late/Early

It was late as Kurt's boots moved quietly over the sidewalk. Or early, depending on your perspective. He guessed it was round one-thirty or two a.m. He hadn't been able to sleep, laying awake on Natalya's small couch, long legs positioned sort of awkwardly. Trying to mull over what his position was now. Where he fit into the grand scheme of things. It was a lot to try and work out in the dark, and he'd always felt better when he was moving anyway. So he silently got up, dressed, and left the house behind. He walked with his hands tucked into his pockets, awareness working on auto-pilot as he replayed Natalya's reaction to him over and over in his head.

Regan was having an unlucky night. She despised Marquette simply for the fact that every person she'd come into contact with thus far was an insane vampire, or a human yet not human bastard with a sidekick who was in desperate need of a bath. Amusement was no longer an emotion thumping inside of her. And the streets were quiet now, being in the earliest morning hours. The sun would rise and she would fall asleep nearly starved, seeping her energy and weakening her defenses. Walking briskly down the street, she felt her hair whip around her face in the breeze, her heels clicking on the sidewalk as anger surged within her. And then she saw him. A rather tall man, hands in his pockets, his head lowered.

Melancholy, she thought immediately, resisting the urge to smile in relief. If she had learned anything tonight it was to not jump to the assumption that her intended meal was human. Pausing, she quickly dredged up a few tears and leaned her foot back to break the heel from her shoes. Reaching down, she pulled both of them off and tossed the broken heel into the yard next to her. "Excuse me," she called, her full lips dropping into a dramatic frown when he started. "I'm terribly sorry to startle you, but," A well timed sniff had her pausing, "I have no idea where I am. Do you have a phone I could borrow?"

Kurt was a bit surprised to see someone out at this late hour, but not terribly startled. He was a very hard man to sneak up on. His steps slowed as he approached the woman. A phone? he thought to himself. They're portable now? But that was possibly a ridiculous question in this day and age. "No, I am sorry," he answered instead, his voice soft and deep in the quiet night. His blue eyes ticked over her curiously; there'd been some murders in the area, he'd been reading in the paper that was delivered to Natalya's house each morning. This woman ought not to be out alone this late at night. "Perhaps I can help. Where are you going?" He knew the town fairly well now, after all.

Regan studied him closely, trying to read behind his eyes. She wasn't picking up anything strange from him, in fact, she was almost positive he would do. There was the relief. Regan noted the sincerity in his voice, recognized the soft accent. She wiped impatiently at the tear gathered in the corner of her eye and looked away, sighing. "I'm renting a small house on Spruce Street, but I'm new to town, and I don't quite know my way around yet." With an soft, embarrased smile, she lifted her shoes. "Blind date gone wrong and here I am. I think I've walked around in circles for the past hour."

Spruce, Spruce, Spruce ... ah yes. Kurt gave her a slight smile that had a touch of warmth to it. He was learning very quickly that women of this day and age were far different than they had been back in his time. He enjoyed the independence he saw, and daily wished that the closest female to him now had more of it. "You are not far from home, then," he told her with a soft chuckle. "But I must tell you, you are pointed in the wrong direction." He nodded to the sidewalk behind her. Spruce was that way, though down another street as well. "Would you like me to walk you? It is late, and not very safe to be out."

Regan hesitated for the proper amount of time to give the impression of internal debate over his offer. Biting thoughtfully on her bottom lip, Regan finally returned his small smile. "You have kind eyes, so I'm going to say yes, please, and thank you." He fell into step beside her and she pushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear shyly. "I'm a bit embarrassed. I look awful, walking around in my bare feet. It's incredibly nice of you to walk with me...Mr...?"

Kurt was inwardly amused. He'd never been told he had kind eyes before. But then, not many people before had seen who he really was. He made sure of it. He led the lady along, keeping his stride slow enough that she could keep up. "My name is Kurt," he told her with a head-nod. He left of his last name purely out of habit. And the fact that he wasn't sure if that would be his official surname in this world. "Just be careful of any debris; it's dark." She looked fine to him. In fact, she was very lovely, all poise and dark hair. He thought he must have a fondness for brunettes that he'd never known about.

"Kurt," she repeated. "That's fitting, to be honest with you. It means courteous." She knew her names, given her free time in her afterlife...she knew a lot of useless things. The debris on the ground didn't really hurt her, despite the fact that she could feel the tiny rocks and perhaps even a bit of glass dig into her heel. "I'm Regan. Bet you can't tell me what that means," she challenged lightly, shooting him a smile.

He chuckled, making note of her name. He'd never met someone with that particular one before. "I do not know the meaning," he lilted, giving her a faint smile in return. "But I believe it was used in 'King Lear', if I am not mistaken." Yes, he was well-read. Sometimes there was precious little to do in his line of work. So much was waiting. "But thank you. My mother would take credit for that, I am sure." They were getting a bit closer to the street they had to cut down.

She knew exactly where she was going, but let him lead the way. Regan was becoming a bit restless, with the sun rising soon. She was half tempted to take his hand now and get on with it, but she liked him, unlike Evan, and she didn't want to leave Kurt dazed and alone in the middle of the night on a strange road. No getting soft on the humans, she reminded herself harshly. They're nothing but toys. "Mothers have a certain sense about their children when they're born," Regan mused, following Kurt as he turned and cut down Magnetic Street. She could see the tiny two story at the end of the block, the shades drawn, as usual. Her smile was sly now, her eyes shimmering in the moonlight. "My father chose my name, but I think I'll let you research it, and the next time I run into you, you can tell me what it means."

"That, or they name us what they hope for, and do their best to raise us in that direction," he said, glancing over at her. He was slightly surprised at her tone, but it didn't show outwardly. Almost nothing did in these sorts of situations unless he wanted it to. Was that a come-on? He ... really wasn't sure. So, he decided, in that case he should just be polite. "I will do so, as now you've made me curious," he said with a deep chuckle. "And I hope that next time we meet, it will be under better circumstances for you."

"Me too. I was cursing men to all ends of hell before I saw you," she lied smoothly. Okay, so it wasn't a complete lie. Evan had been a man, or so she thought anyway. "Most men would have thought tucking me into a cab to fend for myself this late at night would be chilvarous. So it means a lot to me that you would walk me home, even thought you don't know me." They came upon Spruce Street and Regan gave a happy sigh of relief. "This is where I wish you goodnight, I suppose."

Regan took a step forward and took his hand in hers, running her thumb over his knuckles as she looked at him, waiting until his eyes locked with hers. "Would you see me to the door?"

He'd looked at her in surprise, so it didn't take long for his eyes to meet her's. And when they did ... he felt something fairly unexpected sweep over him. She was just ... beautiful. That wasn't all though, he was suddenly and painfully aware of her as a woman. Distantly, he thought it as slightly odd, but ... it had been a very long time and with the way she was looking at him ... quite honestly, it made him want her. His nostrils flared slightly and he stared at her. Not since he was a teenager had he felt so overwhelmed so quickly. But it wasn't something that was easy to question at the moment. "Yes," he answered softly. He didn't move, though, waiting on her to lead.

She dropped the damsel in distress mode immediately, her lips curling into a smile as she turned and led him by the hand up the walkway to her house. He didn't say much now, but they rarely did. She liked the conversation. It was one of the setbacks of being what she was...the moment she touched them, the conversation usually ended. Sliding her tongue over her teeth, Regan pushed open the door to her home and pulled him inside. Shutting it, she flipped the lock and turned toward him, her hands reaching up to cup his face. Regan ran her fingers over his jaw, her thumbs feathering along his cheeks. He felt wonderful, hard and solid. His blood was pulsing in his body, his eyes glazed and focused on her. "I should thank you properly for walking me home," Regan whispered, pushing up on her toes even as she pulled him down. Her lips slid over his, her tongue brushing along his mouth. He was going to taste absolutely divine.

Being touched had never ever felt so good. Kurt's eyelids fluttered as her mouth met his. She was quite a bit shorter than he was, but he bent as she pulled to where she wanted him. No part of him made any noises anymore that this wasn't what he should be doing, or that something was wrong. There wasn't anything but sensation now, and desire. His heart picked up a bit of speed as one arm wrapped around her to bring her closer. She felt like absolute heaven against him, soft and firmly muscled at the same time, cool from the outside, and with that mind-numbing shape. Kurt kissed her with abandon, totally enthralled.

Regan felt triumphant and laughed breathlessly when she tore her lips from his and dragged him toward the sofa she had never used. She was strong, given what she was, but he didn't question her strength as she turned him and pushed him gently onto the couch. Desire and hunger overwhelmed her as she straddled his lap and kissed him again, returning his passion. Her palms ran up his chest as her teeth nipped harshly at his bottom lip. Finally, Regan gripped strands of his hair in her fingers and tugged his neck to the side. He was holding her tightly and she kissed his earlobe, wanting him to relax. "This won't hurt," she whispered in his ear. In fact, she was quite sure he would be thanking her for it in the morning. Breathing in his scent, Regan nuzzled his throat before sinking her teeth into his flesh.

Kurt went exactly where he was guided to, not about to argue with her about anything at all. He grunted as she bit his lower lip, and thought he might explode with Want. The roughness with which she pulled his head to the side sent a thrill of pleasure through him and his hips bucked up against her's. Under his jeans, he was rock hard and literally aching for her. All sort of rational thought had completely fallen by the wayside. Her whisper only made a slight bit of sense to him, and then her fangs were sliding into his neck. "Mein Gott," he murmured as he shuddered. His heart was beating hard enough so that the blood came fast and thick with endorphins.

She drank from him, holding him tightly against her, her fingers unforgiving in the strands of his hair. Regan felt her eyes close under the taste of his blood. She knew he would be pure, and he was. Every crimson ounce that touched her tongue and slid down her throat strengthened her until she once more felt invincible. Kurt was panting beneath her, speaking another language that she couldn't understand. Regan rocked her hips over his, urging on his desire, wanting to make him completely hers. Enough, Regan told herself when that thought entered her mind, and she tore her teeth from his neck. But she was crazed now, pushing his hands away from her before she tore open his shirt and raked her nails down his bare chest. It was there, the desire that had alluded her for fifty years. It taunted beneath the surface and Regan bent down to kiss his chest briefly before sinking her teeth into the muscle. Just a little more, she promised herself. She wanted to make it good for him. He had walked her home after all.

As she drank from him, his glazed blue eyes rolled back with pleasure. The feeling of her body writhing against his far out-distanced any other sexual encounter he'd ever had. Which had a lot to do with her fangs in him, but he couldn't very well realize that at the moment. His limbs started to tingle pleasantly as they lost much of their blood flow, and soon enough he was really lightheaded on top of everything else. It was a godsend. He heard his shirt tear, but didn't care. Jerked a bit as the sting of her nails dragged down his well-built chest. It made him shiver, gave him goosebumps. And then that wonderful sting again, closer to his heart. His hand fumbled and found her head, cupping the back of her neck as the pressure in him built.

The beating of his heart hypnotized her. She could hear it thumping in her ears as she continued to drink from him. She couldn't stop, and Regan dug her fingers into his shoulders as his hand held the back of her neck. Kurt strained against her, and she rocked over him madly, clenching her eyes shut as pleasure erupted within her, causing her to tremble violently in his arms. She felt mindless, out of control and it began to push through the veil of ecstasy that had surrounded her. This was not how it was suppose to be and when Regan felt his heart slowing, she pulled away. Surely if she had a heart beat herself, it would be pounding beneath her breast, but as it was, all she could do was scramble back off of him, falling unceremoniously to the floor, her eyes wide and disbelieving at what he had invoked within her.

All the stimulation was too much for him, even barring actual skin contact. Kurt twitched violently directly after her own ecstacy overtook her, the climax hitting him hard. Everything swam away after that, as his vision blacked out and her gasps even began to sound like they were coming from another room. He went limp under her, all the strength leeched out of his highly-trained body. Not that he minded at the moment. His head lolled against the back of the couch, blood trickling slowly out of the punctures she'd made. His bare chest with it's myriad of scars rose and fell faster than it really wanted to. He felt numb and floating and not at all there. Not at all. It wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Regan was stunned. He was disoriented, that much was obvious, but that wasn't a concern for her at the moment. She hadn't felt that source of desire since Roman left her. She had always devised a certain amount of pleasure when she fed from someone, but not this way. Not for a long time. Standing, Regan went to him and leaned down, sliding her tongue over the blood trailing down his skin. The punctures would heal soon enough, and his energy would return to him in the morning. Regan cupped his face and kissed him again, cursing him silently for doing this to her. Maybe someday she would explain this to him, but for now...Regan examined him closely, and when she was positive he would survive the rest of the night, she tugged one piece of hair from his head, clutching it in her palm should she choose to call on him in the future. Pressing her lips to his, Regan then rested her forehead against his, whispering, "You'll stay with me tonight."

Kurt? Wasn't moving any time soon. She'd taken a lot of blood out of him and even though he felt fantastic in his head, he was pale and a little bit too cold, and not really aware of where he was at all. His eyes were two blue slits of very dazed Not All There. He didn't even twitch as she took some hair from him; he hardly felt it at all. Neither did he respond in kind as she kissed him, though his dreamy gaze did tick in her direction a teensy bit. Her soft assertion filtered in to him, but his brain couldn't focus enough to translate it into something recognizable. Instead it murmured a string of adoring German that didn't even make it anywhere close to his mouth. His eyes slipped closed. He wanted to sleep.

"I'm sorry," Regan told him quietly, though he couldn't quite hear, or comprehend her words. "But this is your fault. You made me take too much and you're going to have quite a headache in the morning." Sighing, Regan stood and released him, walking to the only window in the room and locking the shutters tightly before drawing the shade down over them. A vampire couldn't be too careful when it came to the sunrise. And while she was strong, Kurt was really too tall for her to help upstairs and strangely enough, Regan didn't want to hurt him. So she took to the task of undressing him and grabbing a blanket to place over his body, musing that it was indeed a shame she didn't use it properly. Perhaps another time. His eyes were closed before his head hit the couch pillow and she kissed his forehead, studying his face for only a moment before she turned and headed toward the windowless basement where her room was. The sun was rising soon and she could feel it in every pore of her body. When she reached her bed, she stripped and slipped into her bed, drawing the blankets over her body, Kurt's face fading from her mind as she finally went under.