The Late Night Low Down Undead Blues

Author's Note: So yes, sorry about the delays. Real life got very busy for a while, and my hobbies tend to suffer. I sincerely hope this last installment was worth the wait. You will tell me what you think in the reviews, correct?

[disclaimer] This is a work of fiction. No challenge to existing copyrights is meant,
most notably whoever's got the rights to 'Re-Animator' the movie, and/or whoever's got
the rights to Lovecrafts's canon. I think it's Chaosium these days. Anyway, I'm not making
money off this, and neither is anyone else. I'm only in it for the amusement. [/disclaimer]

      He'd asked for her for three nights running, and every session was a little more intense than the last. She was already tired; any time not involving her own classes, her tutoring jobs, and her thesis, was now given over to West whenever he asked, and the half-mile hike back and forth from the campus to the little house past the viaduct. Hallie couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten more than three hours of sleep in any given night. She knew she was being used, and couldn't find it in her heart to care. Everyone else was using her, why not West? At least he gave her something in return.

      Tonight had been much like the last two, although this time she was pretty sure she was going to end up with at least one hickey and she'd made a mental note to trim her nails short to give his back a break. It was a rare night where the bed was free of textbooks and other debris, so they had ended up there by default, although thanks to his varied housekeeping she was now on intimate terms with pretty much every other sturdy piece of furniture in the room.

      'At least that desk is good for something, ' she thought smugly, as they lay and caught their breath.

      It was these moments she enjoyed the most, possibly because they were so very few; laying quiet and content with her head in the crook of his shoulder and one hand resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow. He rarely stayed still for long, and so she had to make the most of every moment, pretending while it lasted that this was any other relationship. Then he'd move her hand and sit up, and the small dream would melt away, and she was only herself again, alone in his bed as he disappeared off to his research.

      Tonight, though, was just one too many on too much activity and not enough sleep, and somewhere in those brief minutes of rest she drifted across the line from dozing to dreaming. She didn't wake when he left, but she did surface briefly when he returned, as the first faint streaks of lights slipped grayly around the window shades, and to her vague wonder he simply lay down next to her and fell swiftly asleep. After a moment she did, too.

      When the alarm went off a few hours later she found herself pressed against his back, holding him tight. He said nothing; simply disengaged himself gently, got dressed, and went to class. She followed his example, head and heart both full of confusion.

      She liked to think she knew him better than anyone, but she knew the truth was that he simply wasn't hard to read. Beyond his work there wasn't much to him. But he was brilliant, sarcastic, did not suffer fools, gladly or otherwise, and did not find her intellect unattractive. She genuinely liked his company; after all the men she had known who shied away as soon they found out she wasn't just another brainless co-ed, it made for a pleasant alternative. However, she knew there was no chance for reciprocal feelings; he had none to give. He was obsessed, and that obsession was the core of him, and that was never going to change. She was fairly certain he cared about her, but she knew it stemmed only from what she represented to him- a convenient and congenial aid to the study of his life's work. Although not completely cold- he obviously cared about the well-being of the human race as a whole, or why devote his life to the study of immortality?- there was no room in his life for anything else. Or anyone.

      Hallie was no fool. She knew that sooner or later he would move on, or find the breakthrough he was after and have no further use for her, and that would be the end of it. So she did her best to enjoy what she had of him, and not to expect anything beyond the moment.

      Some nights, though, were very long indeed.

      She jumped as he touched her shoulder. "Ah. I assume your reaction means that you do remember."

      "I remember three days later, when I found out you and Cain had left for Bolivia. You son of a bitch, " she said, but there was no heat in her voice, "You son of a bitch, you left without even saying good-bye. You could at least have told me good-bye!"

      "Time was of the essence."

      "Time always is. I loved you, you know."

      "Yes." He sounded genuinely sorry.

      The note's author was obvious from the way the paper was folded; Cain would never have bothered to make it this perfect, all angles a carefully matched ninety degrees, corners fitting together to the tolerance of a micron. Though she had known intellectually that this day would come, her heart still lurched and instead of reaching for it, she slid into one of the chairs and looked at it for a while, noting absently how it was placed in the precise center of the table, equidistant from all edges, and held down under a bright yellow mug with violet writing.

      It was for her, of course; there was her name- her nickname, thankfully; even he was not so formal as to saddle the paper with her given name- neatly printed in the center of the sheet of paper. The first shock over, she thumbed it out resignedly from under the mug and unfolded it.

      'Prudence dictates that we join the humanitarian efforts in South America without delay, therefore your contributions towards the research, though appreciated, are no longer practical. H.W.'

      Hallie folded the note back up carefully and tucked it in her book. The mug gleamed sickeningly under the kitchen lights; she pushed it gently off the table with a fingertip and it shattered against the floor into a thousand pieces.

      Flames licked at the faux coal of the wall heater; Hallie watched them flicker absently.

      "I don't blame you. I knew you were only going to keep me around for so long, but I let myself get too involved, because I didn't know how not to. Staying aloof would have been handy, but you only learn that one through experience- I can hardly hold you at fault. Still, a note. One note, with one sentence on it. Even for you, that's pretty hands-off."

      "You're one to talk. It's been public knowledge where I spent my last decade and a half, and yet you never wrote."

      "I did!"

      "Twice. In the first year. Taken proportionally to the whole, that's extremely close to never."

      She sighed. "All right, I deserve that. I had always intended to write you more, but I'd sent the second letter out from the campus post office and the chief warden called the university asking who I was. You can imagine how well that went over. The new president of the medical college really wanted to bury all the details of where you'd come from- they actually called me up on disciplinary charges even though I wasn't even in their department. Max was furious; I guess he was worried that if it got out I'd known you, it might harm his career. So that was the end of the letters. I've always regretted that; you were my friend, I should have been strong enough to stand up for you."

      "Yes, you should have- I would at least liked to have heard about something useful. All you wrote about was how happy you were your doctorate thesis had been accepted."

      "I must have said something else."

      The bed dipped as he reached out to the bedside table, then she yelped as something light tapped against her chest.

      "The facts say otherwise."

      "You kept them all this time?"

      "You once told me that being treated like a person makes a nice change. You have no real idea of how right you were."

      "No, I suppose not."

      He turned to replace the letters on the nightstand, and as he lay back down she found herself stroking his arm, his chest, the hollow of his throat. Despite the intervening years he still felt familiar, if changed in little ways. The last decade had obviously been hard on him; though he still had that same wiry build she remembered, she could count his ribs without difficulty, and new scars pocked him here and there.

      He caught her hand and lifted it, traced the outlines with his fingertips as she drew in a quick breath.

      "How long has it been?" he asked, tone conversational.

      "A while, " she admitted.

      "For me, as well."

      "I can imagine. But it's not like you to want anything without there being a payoff in your research."

      "Perhaps I just remember that it's the best way to stop you talking."

      Hallie laughed. "Nice to see that jail hasn't damaged your sense of humor, such as it is."

      "It's equally good to see that the academic life hasn't stopped you speaking your mind."

      "I told you before, West, nothing's ever going to shut me up-"

      His mouth was on hers and the rest of her words were lost, unmourned, in the moments that followed.

      In the back of her mind, a small voice expressed surprise; West was many things, but never desperate. Then again, she reminded herself, West had never spent years behind bars before, either.

      "Ah, " he said finally, "Apparently some things do remain the same."

      "Are you referring to my going silent when you do that, or are you claiming that I'm at the same level of experience I was all those years ago?"

      "If you want a reply to the second question, I will have to postpone my response until I have more data."

      "Ah. Empirical study. I can do that."

      "Can you, indeed?" That same half-mocking, half-interested tone, and this time Hallie grabbed him by the back of the head and kissed the hell out of him.

      She attempted in the next few minutes to kiss the smugness out of him as well, but she knew going in that, fun as it was, it was a lost cause. West had been her first lesson that underneath a cold exterior did not necessarily beat a warm heart.

      However, inside every civilized human were animal passions, and no one, no matter how educated or controlled, could sublimate those forever. For his entire adult life he had thrown the weight of that incredible mind into his work and his work alone, disdaining all else in pursuit of his goals. And that drive, which was strong enough to be called madness, had been caged with its owner for well over a decade while he suffered incarceration, torture, privation, threat of death, and that which was the worst of all to him, the interruption of his work. A weaker mind would have bent or broken, which he had not done, but even one stronger still would still need, in this unexpected reprieve, to refresh itself of all it had been deprived.

      It was a shame, she reflected, that in such a moment the back of her mind could still pontificate, even with his mouth moving to her neck, teeth grazing her collarbone. She let him remove her pajama top, then turned her head and nibbled delicately at his earlobe while her hands did some interesting gymnastics below his waistband. He stopped what he was doing long enough to look at her squarely in the half-light.

      "You've gotten better at this."

      She grinned. "I've had a reasonable amount of practice."

      Her fingers skated around the sweet spot at the small of his back as he divested both of them from their clothing and she considered tactics. On one hand, the man had been in prison for the past fifteen years, and probably deserved the quickest conclusion possible as a simple act of mercy. On the other hand, Simon wasn't due home for another year and a half, and she was damned if she'd waste the only clear opportunity she had between now and then, unless by some miracle the University either gave her a vacation in the tropics or started hiring nubile young men as administrative assistants.

      'Quality over quickness it is, then.'

      She slid her knee alongside his waist and used the leverage to push him over until she was straddling him. The covers slipped down her back and off the bed, but neither paid attention.

      "I thought at first I should finish you off in a hurry, out of deference to your, er, condition, " she began, and reached down to stroke him gently, "But really, I feel like getting the most out of you I can while I have the opportunity. Turnabout is fair play, after all."

      She tightened her grip and pulled the length of him upright, and slid him inside her in a sudden jolt. His eyes widened and one hand clutched her leg spastically.

      "This might not be the best means of achieving a marathon session."

      "Hah, how soon we forget. It takes ages for you to finish like this."

      "Under normal circumstances, yes. With nearly twenty years of celibacy to contend against, your plan may not be as foolproof as you intend."

      "Oh ye of little faith. You think I haven't learned anything since we first met?"

      She raised herself slowly, carefully, and slid back down, grinning as she drew a long surprised moan from his throat.

      "I won't know that until we're finished."

      "Bastard." She slid down on him again, and he gasped. She varied the angle and speed to produce as many sound effects as possible, adding in a few tricks with her fingers, and managed to get a yelp, a groan, a very un-Westlike squeak, and an unbelieving curse before he stopped her.

      "Which one taught you that?"

      "Do you really want a lecture right now, or do you want to keep enjoying yourself? Don't answer that."

      His hand slipped to where they were joined. "I won't, if you insist, but I may still need further data to reach a conclusion on your theory."

      Hallie grinned. "Is that what we're calling it now? I swear, you are the mouthiest son of a bitch that I ever took to bed."

      "And whose fault is that, hmm? You're the one who posed the original suggestion."

      "Look where it got me."

      "Yes, " he said, and began thrumming his fingertips against her, "Look where it got you."

      Those damnably talented fingers of his were working in a very familiar pattern; apparently even after all this time he remembered exactly how to get her off with a minimum of fuss. She supposed he had the routine written up neatly in a file in the lockbox of his mind. Orgasm was suddenly inevitable, then imminent. She bucked against his knuckles as he kept up the same patient rhythm- how he managed to maintain speed when all her other lovers inevitably sped up in time with her was still a mystery- and wailed as the wave broke and crested. He slowed his action, but kept going until he'd brought her twice more and she grabbed his forearm and gripped it tightly.

      "Hey, whoa, you need to back it off now for a minute, unless you want me to have a heart attack up here."

      He ignored this, but stilled his fingers. "Still loud, I see."

      She shook her hair back our of her eyes. "You love it. Nobody tries that hard to instigate it if they don't."

      He gave her one of his rare smiles and grazed her again with his knuckles. She shuddered happily and smacked his hand away.

      "You keep doing that and we'll never get to you."

      "I don't recall either of us ever being left out." He turned his body carefully, taking her with him until he lay above her.

      "Looking for a big finish, are we? You never do it this way unless you intend-"

      West hooked one elbow under her knee and brought her leg up sharply, driving into her until she squealed and grabbed the headboard.

      "- to do that. Yeah. Big finish, it is-"

      Since the angle was inconvenient for silencing her with a kiss, he settled for pounding into her as though he was coming off a stay in prison- which was unsurprising, since that was exactly the case. She bit her lip to muffle a scream, and then immediately wondered why. The hour was late, the office building deserted, and no curious onlookers took strolls this far from the center of campus. Besides, she'd woken up the neighbors more than once during Simon's visits. Then it hit her- the setting, the intensity, her partner, all of it had her reacting automatically as though she were still in college and still serving the greater cause of humanity by keeping Herbert West in endorphins. In some sort of roundabout comment about his roommate's vociferous sexual practices, he'd always enjoined her to keep the noise level low unless he was absolutely sure no one was around.

      Not inaudible, though, just down enough that there were no grounds for a reasonable complaint. She'd called him passive-aggressive once, and would have chuckled at the memory of his face as she said it had she not already been catapulted into the present by coming a fourth time as his knuckles ground against her. Her right hand was locked on his upper arm and she couldn't have loosened her grip if she'd tried, but her left was free, and she slid her fingers to the small of his back, grinning as the breath left his lungs in a surprised whuff. His careful rhythm fell apart and he thrust into her desperately for a few moments while his own orgasm overtook him. Judging from his bared teeth and the deathgrip he had on her leg, she assumed it was just as cataclysmic and as welcome as her own. The events of past two days coupled with this final exertion appeared to be close to a last straw as far as his endurance was concerned, and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

      After a moment, Hallie managed to catch her breath enough to speak.

      "You just love shutting me up, don't you?"

      Eyes tightly shut, he began to laugh against her shoulder. Somewhat alarmed, Hallie tapped him on the side of the head.

      "Hey, whoa, everything all right in there?"

      "Of course, " he said smugly, and withdrew to lay on his side of the bed, "Do I seem displeased?"

      "Displeased, no, but you've never found my sarcasm that amusing. Frankly, it's scaring me."

      "A nearly two-decade dry spell is out of character, even for myself, " he said, "Call it a moment of weakness following a long-delayed release. And speaking of, it is certainly gratifying to find that there are certain benefits earned through time and experience."

      "Indeed. And although the physical ones are certainly pleasant, mainly I'm glad I'm not dumb enough to be in love with you anymore. It's challenging enough just staying your friend."

      "Then you're ahead of where you once were, Doctor O'Halloran."

      Hallie rolled her eyes and scrabbled for the covers in the darkness. "I realize this, Doctor West. We both are, I'd imagine. Now shut up already, all right? These days I need my sleep."

      He chuckled quietly. "You never seemed to need it before. Getting old?"

      "I suppose I am. My only consolation is that so are you, so stop mentioning it, or I'll start counting your gray hairs. And not the ones on your head."

      He snorted, and there was silence for a time. Drifting past the edge of wakefulness, Hallie managed one last question. "I suppose you'll be leaving tomorrow."

      "Obviously. I doubt your students would let a strange man staying in your apartment pass without comment, and attention is what I need to avoid for the time being, at least until my supposed death is made official."

      "And you won't be able to tell me where you're going, either, or what you're up to when you get there."

      "I hardly think the authorities will resort to torture to wean an answer from you, should they even think to come here, and I'm sure a letter now and again from a distant friend won't excite comment."

      "This time, I promise that I'll write back."

      "If it pleases you, " he said dismissively. He turned over, and she curled up against him.

      "You're right, by the way- I'd forgotten how nice it is to be treated like a person once in a while."

      A soft snore was her only answer.

      She was alone when she awoke- not surprising, she thought, given West's track record in that regard. But the first rays of dawn shone in through the windows unfettered by clouds, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee was everywhere, along with the scent of reheated Dim Sum. A pleasant ache made itself known in her muscles, and for the first time in a long time Hallie greeted the new day with something more than thinly-veiled contempt.

      "Morning, " she said, as she rounded the corner into the kitchen, and West grunted something that sounded like a greeting. He pushed a cup of coffee in her general direction and buried himself in his own mug.

      "You always were an unstinting fountain of cheer, " she said, and he grunted again and spared her two seconds' worth of glare before returning to his coffee. Hallie grinned and started in on her breakfast.

      Afterwards, she found him an old Navy peacoat and one of Simon's hats; this combined with the clothes he already had and one of her old traveling bags, filled with a few nondescript toiletries and a book or two, left him just another anonymous Arkhamite awaiting the arrival of Spring. She tucked a small roll of cash in his coat pocket when he wasn't looking and grabbed her car keys from the table.

      The bus station was indifferently full, and no one gave them a second glance. They waited patiently in line, Hallie chattering away semi-quietly on an endless litany of the health problems of nonexistent relatives and painstakingly detailed descriptions of cute cat tricks all designed to send nearby patrons into various states of coma. After five minutes it was obvious that the plan was working famously; those closest had glazed eyes and those further along edged discreetly away. As she ramped up the medical descriptions and kitten capers she could almost sense people actively attempting to remove them from their brains.

      When they came to the counter Hallie let West choose his ticket and paid cash without looking at the destination. As they walked towards the ramp she tore up the receipt and dropped the pieces surreptitiously down a drain. West rolled his eyes.

      "The garbage would have been sufficient. I'm not being pursued by international spies."

      "Hey, leave me alone, this is the most excitement I've had in years."

      His bus was ready and loading. He checked his bag with the attendant and turned to Hallie, allowing her to hug him for a moment.

      She cuffed his shoulder gently. "Good luck. You know what? I'm probably going to miss you a little."

      The faintest flicker of a smile ghosted across his features. "I'm sorry to hear that, " he said, and stepped onto the bus.