The Late Night Low Down Undead Blues

[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 Lovecraft'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]

          'Another day, another ditching, ' Hallie thought, shrugging, and began highlighting the
more useful bits of text from the book that Cain had helpfully left on the kitchen table. Dr.
Wandrei had handed her a syllabus for the class Cain was taking as she'd passed by his
office that morning, so even without Cain's presence she could at least do something
useful to aid in keeping his grades up. For a moment she toyed with leaving him to his
own devices- he was the one skipping out on her anyway- and work on her own sorely
unattended thesis. Sadly, though, there were consequences to leaving Cain to the grades
he deserved, and none of them would apply to Cain.

          'I'll wait an hour, ' she thought, glancing from the syllabus to the printed page, 'If he's
not here by then, to hell with him.'

          West, unsurprisingly, appeared as soon as she started the coffee.

          "I think you'll be on your own again this evening. Miss Halsey appeared earlier,
apparently in order to facilitate a reconciliation. I believe that Daniel has gone with her to
the student union. I'm afraid I don't have any information as to when they'll be back. I
saw her only briefly; she left the moment she saw me in the house."

          "Oh yeah?" Her tone was conversational, and he shrugged.

          "She's not fond of me."

          Hallie grinned. "What, did you ask her about her major?"

          "She believes that I killed Daniel's cat."

          "Oh. Why would she think that?"

          West paused. "It was rather a comedy of errors. From what I saw when I got home
from work, it had knocked over the trash can and got into the garbage. Its head was stuck
in a half-empty gravy jar. My best guess is that the exertion of trying to free itself,
coupled with the liquid contents and lack of free space in the jar, led to its death by
suffocation or drowning."

          "That's awful! Poor kitty...Wait, she thinks you planned that all out or something? It
seems a bit normal to blame on someone. I can see the headlines- 'Gravy-Can Cat Killer
Strikes Again!' "

          "Well, there was a bit more to it than that. I cleaned up the mess and put the body in
the refrigerator in my room that I use for tissue samples, intending to tell Daniel when he
came home. I felt that leaving things the way they were would upset him unnecessarily,
and it was fairly unsanitary to put the body in the refrigerator we use for food. Miss
Halsey was snooping in my room, found the cat, and naturally assumed that I was the
cause of its untimely demise."

          "Naturally. Did she have any reasons for why you'd want to commit felicide?"

          "The cat didn't care for me, nor I for him."

          Hallie laughed. "Wow, if that's the only reason people needed to commit murder, then
half the population of the University would have dropped out of sight by now. Certainly
several of my professors would have been found with their heads in jars."

          "Indeed."

          "Not to mention your roommate."

          West sighed. "Why do you continue on tutoring him if it frustrates you so much?"

          "Because Dr. Bierce made it perfectly clear that if his grades don't go up, my
scholarships will go down. Cain's some kind of superstar, if you hadn't noticed. I guess
he's so brilliant in his medical studies the other departments don't want him to fail in theirs.
Bierce is my advisor, so I'm stuck with it. I don't really mind it that much, I guess. It's
quiet here, and you're good company when you're around."

          "I beg your pardon?"

          Hallie shrugged. "My roommate thinks I'm a freak, Cain thinks I'm uptight, and my
professors are basically blackmailing me. You treat me like a person. It makes for a nice
change."

          It was West's turn to shrug. "You're less self-involved than most. You don't pry, you
don't whine, and you're working hard, even if it is in something as inconsequential as
philosophy. It's a pity you didn't pursue a vocation in something useful. Now, if you'll
please excuse me, I have my own work to accomplish. You're welcome to remain here
until midnight, but then I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

          "Midnight. Gotcha. And thanks."

          "You're welcome."

          It took her until after he'd left to realize that he'd paid her a complement- backhanded,
admittedly, as befit his rather sarcastic nature, but a complement none the less. The
warmth of that realization took her somewhat by surprise.

          "Get real, " she muttered, "You have enough problems without developing a crush on a
workaholic cynic. Even if he does have pretty eyes."

          The flash of blond hair and shriek and door slam that greeted his arrival into the
kitchen did not bother West in the slightest. He had gotten fully used to it during his first
few months living with Cain; after the unfortunate demise of the cat, it was often his only
glimpse of Megan Halsey. Not that he minded. What he liked about her could be written
twice in longhand on a grain of rice and still leave enough space for the entire
unexpurgated text of De Vermis Mysteriis. With footnotes.

          "Herbert?"

          West had often noted Cain's likeness to an enthusiastic Golden Retriever. When it
came to women, though, Miss Halsey in particular, he often resembled a Golden Retriever
whose Milk-Bones had been laced with crystal meth.

          Case in point. "Herbert, is Patricia here yet?" Cain asked, bounding out of his room,
attempting to simultaneously tie his tie and button his shirt.

          "I haven't seen Miss O'Halloran, no."

          "I guess it's only a quarter of seven. She's always on time, isn't she? She needs to
relax. Anyway, it doesn't matter; I mean, it's all for the best that she turned out to be such
a cold fish."

          "Oh?" Although West poured every ounce of disdain and disinterest he had into the
syllable, Cain continued speaking.

          "Megan wants to talk over dinner. That's a pretty good sign. Are you going to be here
for a while? Could you tell Patricia I won't be in tonight?"

          "Can't you call her yourself? I'm not your personal messaging service."

          "I did call, but her roommate said she was out. She lives with Joscelyn Bishop, can
you believe it? I used to date her in high school. Great girl, Josie. She says she's pretty
sure that Patricia's a lesbian. I mean, Josie says she doesn't want to try out for the squad,
and she won't even talk to the guys from the football team when they come over-"

          "Whatever, Daniel, " West held up a hand, wondering briefly how long it would take to
invent a serum to make himself deaf at will, "I'll relay the message if I see her. Now, if
you would excuse me, I have work to do."

          As luck would have it- Hallie did believe in luck, mostly bad- she arrived at the front
door just as Cain and Megan were about to leave.

          Hallie and Megan sized each other up, Hallie wary, Megan cheerfully superior. After a
few seconds Megan, apparently deciding that there was no reason to consider her a rival,
gave her a beaming smile. Hallie responded with a perfunctory rictus grin that would not
have looked out of place on a torture victim. Megan seemed not to notice, and beamed
harder.

          Cain, oblivious to the ritual, waved Hallie on into the house. "Patricia-"

          "Hallie."

          "-This is my fiancee, Megan Halsey."

          Hallie held out her hand, and Megan shook it awkwardly.

          "Nice to meet you, Patricia."

          "Likewise. And it's Hallie."

          "Ah...Hallie, " Megan said carefully, her nose wrinkling, "Why don't you use Patricia?
It's such a pretty name."

          "I don't really care for it."

          "But Hallie sounds too much like a boy's name. You should really try Patty, at least."

          Hallie opened her mouth and closed it again. "I'll take it under advisement, " she said
finally.

          "Good." Megan was all smiles again. She leaned back against Cain, who grabbed her
around the waist and pulled her towards the doorway.

          "Listen, Hallie, I'm going to have to bail on our study night. Megan...needs help with
her sociology homework, so I'm heading over there. How about tomorrow?"

          "Well, I've got another tutoring session, but I can probably come later on-"

          "Good. Great. See you then."

          As the door was closing, she caught a last snippet of conversation.

          "-one of the charity scholarship students?" Megan was asking, "I have some dresses I
don't wear anymore, do you think she'd..."

          The door clicked shut, and Hallie resisted the urge to put her fist through the glass.

          When West came in fifteen minutes later, he found Hallie sitting at the kitchen table,
arms crossed, head down. Her pencil case was bent nearly in two, and there were several
new dents in the table.

          He cleared his throat, but she didn't move.

          "Is something wrong?"

          "Yes, " came the muffled reply, "There's a lot more to life than wearing nice clothes
and being blond, gorgeous, and rich."

          "I thought that went without saying. Do you want some coffee? I'm about to make a
fresh pot."

          "That'd be great, thanks." Hallie raised her head from the table. "Got any bourbon?"

          West pointed to a cupboard. "Serve yourself."

          "Thanks."

          Hallie rummaged in the cupboard briefly, but recoiled and set the bottle she found back
on the shelf with a thump.

          "Black Jack? Jesus, that's practically paint thinner! Who bought that shit?"

          West shrugged. "As I recall, it was here when I moved in."

          "I'm bringing you guys a bottle of Wild Turkey next time. You can use the stuff in the
cupboard for cleaning lab equipment."

          West picked up the pencil case and turned it back and forth in the light. "So I take it
you've met Miss Halsey?"

          "Gee, how can you tell?"

          "Deductive analysis. I, too, often feel like breaking things when she's around."

          "I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but I just...I share a floor with twenty-four other
girls just like her. They don't study, they don't work, they just flirt with their professors
and coast on their parents' money and compete to snag the biggest, richest asshole they
can find, and somehow, they think I'm the stupid one. I am working my ass off for this
degree, and I don't have the time or the money to spend on that shit even if I was inclined,
which I'm not, because it's all pointless, and, and, I hate it!"

          West sighed and set a blue china mug on the table in front of her. "Miss O'Halloran-"

          "Hallie. Please."

          "Hallie. You cannot let this sort of thing get to you. You cannot let yourself be
dragged down by imbeciles."

          "I know, I know, but there's so damned many of them."

          "But you're correct, " he shrugged, "Numbers mean nothing if they're wrong."

          "Yes, well, so I believe, but if you want to get technical, they're just as certain that
they're right."

          "And so are the people who think the Earth is flat. Self-delusion is nothing new. It
certainly doesn't change established fact. You are correct; they are wasting their time and
potential. You are not, or, at least, you are trying your best. You need to take comfort in
that." He poured himself a cup of coffee.

          Hallie stared at his mug. It was glaringly yellow, with a pharmaceutical company logo
scrawled across the side in vivid purple.

          "I thought it would be a skull."

          "I beg your pardon?"

          "Your mug. I thought it would be a skull. Possibly of one of your enemies. You
know, like Attilla the Hun or something."

          West snorted and headed towards the cellar.