Boys' Night Out
by 
Shayne Dark (Ottawa, Canada)
Copyright (C) 2004, by Shayne Dark


Saturday 20:00 Molly's Garage - England


"Why do I do this to myself."  Thibor though as he backpedaled 
quickly, avoiding Yugo's flurry of punches.  The younger Sawchyk 
pressed the advantage, advancing on his uncle and delivering a 
hooking punch to the side of Thibor's head.  It was like being 
shunted into by a train and Thibor hit the canvas hard enough to 
bounce.

"One.  Two.  Three."  Molly began counting him out.  Thibor got 
up to one knee and waited, there was no sense getting back to his 
feet and wasting valuable recovery time.  He still had six more 
numbers before he had to get stuck back into the fight, and he 
needed them all.  It was supposed to be a night out with the 
boys, but Simon didn't want to be designated driver, so Thibor 
had to convince Yugo to take on the duty.  Yugo had agreed, with 
one condition - a bare-knuckle match.

At nine Thibor was back on his feet.  Trying to box Yugo wasn't 
going to work.  As painful as it was to admit, in human form, 
Yugo was stronger, faster, and had superior technique.  It would 
take time,  but he would eventually wear Thibor down and leave 
him sprawled unconscious on the canvas.  

Thibor allowed himself a quick glance at the watching audience; 
all of Molly's adopted charges and guests were watching with 
animated interest, save for Cammy, who was deliberately keeping 
herself distracted with a magazine.  Thibor wasn't sure if she 
was trying to discourage him from such cartoonishly macho 
displays, or was trying to protect his feelings about being 
thrashed in front of her.  Alice was cheering herself hoarse and 
bouncing up and down as she encouraged Yugo.  Trust a were-bunny 
to bounce well.  Uriko was practically swinging on Kenji's arm as 
she yelled encouragements to each of them, switching sides as 
only a hyperactive teenager could.  Kenji was weathering Uriko's 
manhandling with admirable grace, his stoic demeanor almost 
completely hiding his enjoyment at her attentions.  Naoko was 
taking bets, and from what Thibor's ears were picking up, was 
offering slim odds on him winning.  Even Louis had placed his 
money on Yugo.  That figured.  Louis de Saint-Exupery was one of 
Thibor's dearest friends, and would gladly take a bullet for him; 
but he was Gallic at heart - you fought and died for your allies, 
but business was business.  As far as Thibor could tell, only 
Kenji, Simon and Mireille had money riding on him - and he was 
pretty sure that the only reason Mireille had bet on him was that 
Simon had.  Louis' teenage daughter had a rather obvious crush on 
Simon, and was treading very dangerous ground.  Naoko had already 
set her sights on Simon and would not be gentle when it came time 
to dissuade Mireille, whom she thought of as an 'upstart French 
tart.'  Mireille was a sweet girl, and certainly more worldly 
than Halo or Uriko, but if it came down to competition, sweet, 
freckled, utterly ruthless, Naoko would have her for lunch.

Thibor put those thoughts aside as Yugo pressed forward on the 
attack.  The younger Sawkchyk's fist moved like pistons, seeking 
out the holes in Thibor's defense and striking home with alarming 
ease.  Time to change tactics.  Yugo was young, strong and 
skilled, but intellectually he was at the shallow end of the 
Sawchyk gene pool; he tended to react with emotion and instinct 
rather than logic.  That gave him incredible heart as a boxer, 
but left him vulnerable to superior strategists.  Thibor hunched 
his shoulders and tucked his chin in, moving forward into a 
clinch.  His right hand fastened on the back of Yugo's neck and 
bore down, while he leaned in close to the young man's neck so 
Yugo could feel his breath at the front of his throat.

Yugo reacted as if struck with a taser, seizing up.  Although he 
looked like your average, albeit mean, street tough, Yugo was 
every bit a Sawchyk werewolf, and recognized and instinctively 
reacted to a dominance challenge. Before the young boxer knew it, 
he had triggered his own transformation from human to wolf. 
Thibor was already moving backwards, Yugo's own transformation, 
unlike his own, was rather explosive.  Perhaps in time Yugo would 
bring it under control, but Thibor rather doubted it, it wasn't 
in his character to do so.  He allowed himself to roll back 
against the ropes, calling on his own transformation.

Molly opted for discretion as being the better, and smarter 
portion, of valour and dove  out of ring, taking  up a safe 
position to continue to act as referee.  As a wolf, Yugo was 
impressive, with coal black fur and a fierce expression.  The X 
shaped scar that marred his features in human form carried 
through to his wolf, as a silver patch of fur.  Although large, 
and certainly frightening, he was considerably smaller than 
Thibor, whose hugely muscled bulk was advancing on his nephew 
with dread intent.

"Kso."  Naoko's heartfelt utterance was like a balm on Thibor's 
ego.  Yugo still held out hope, and dashed a strong right cross 
into Thibor's muzzle. Thibor ignored the impact and lashed out 
with a blow that spun the smaller wolf in a circle.  Tough as 
Yugo was, even his strongest punch couldn't overcome Thibor's 
supernaturally toughened flesh.  It was hardly fair for Yugo. 
Good.  Fair was where you could go on a pony ride, not a fight. 
As Yugo danced back, he shifted to a southpaw stance, hoping to 
throw Thibor's rhythm off.  It was a sound strategy, but wouldn't 
help.  Thibor stepped in, dropping his guard.  Yugo reacted with 
perfect instinct and timing, moving in with a quick jab and 
following through with a powerful uppercut to Thibor's plexus. 
On a lesser opponent, the combination would have been enough to 
end the fight, but Thibor restricted his reaction to a muffled 
grunt.  Yugo's hands were down and he couldn't bring his guard up 
fast enough.  Thibor went in with a hard left right combination 
to Yugo's unprotected head.  The younger wolf's hands came up 
reflexively, allowing Thibor to finish with a shattering uppercut 
to the plexus that lifted Yugo's feet completely off the canvas. 
It was a risky move, if Yugo wasn't as tough as advertised, 
Thibor was going to be covered with a hearty appetite's worth of 
half-digested pizza and beer.  Fortunately dinner stayed put, 
unfortunately, Yugo was still on his feet.  This was going to 
take a while.


Saturday 20:20 Molly's Garage - England


"Call it a draw?"  Thibor offered.  Both werewolves were still on 
their feet, soaked in sweat.  Yugo was looking considerably worse 
for wear, but was gamely continuing on.  It figured.  Neither was 
trying to deliberately incapacitate the other, and whatever 
damage was done was healing with supernatural speed.  Already the 
audience had thinned considerably, with Uriko having retreated to 
the bleeping comfort of her Playstation, taking Kenji in tow. 
Alice had joined Cammy in the magazine.  Naoko was looking over 
their shoulders, occasionally pointing out something interesting 
on the page.  She  favored Thibor with a withering glare.  Louis 
and Simon were waiting with calm patience, their features set in 
stoic, unreadable masks that spoke volumes.  Thibor would be 
bankrolling the night's debauch, having unnecessarily delayed the 
opening.  Mireille was unsuccessfully wheedling her father for 
inclusion in the night's festivities.

Yugo feinted to the right, drawing Tibor off balance, earlier in 
the fight it would have been more effective, but the constant 
battering had dulled his reflexes.  Thibor leaned away from the 
punch and snapped back with a piledriving fist to the side of 
Yugo's head.  With a resounding crash Yugo hit the canvas. 
Thibor immediately retreated to the corner as Molly started the 
count.  By ten Yugo still hadn't stirred.  Alice hopped into the 
ring, casually leaping over the ropes as easily as she might hop 
up a curb.  She gave Yugo a brief once over and then propped the 
unconscious werewolf's head up on her lap.  A snapped capsule of 
astringent waved under his nose was enough to rouse Yugo.  As he 
tried to sit up, Alice grabbed his muzzle and forced his head 
back down.

"Lie still!" She commanded in a brusque, professional voice, 
quite at odds with her usually bouncy, ditsy vocal patters.  "How 
many fingers am I holding up?"

"Am fine."  Yugo growled.

"I'm the nurse, you're the patient, and you're not fine until I 
say you're fine."  Alice snapped.  "How many fingers?"

"Three."  Yugo said .  He added a rude gesture.  "And here are 
two more for Uncle Thibor.  You said human fight. Not wolf."

"Said would not change into wolf unless you did first."  Thibor's 
muzzle opened in a lupine grin.  "Is not quite the same thing."

"No concussion.  No broken bones.  You're fine."  Alice hopped to 
her feet, letting Yugo's head bounce against the surface of the 
ring.  She stalked over to Thibor and stood in front of him, her 
hands on her hips.  "As for you, just what do you think you were 
doing?  You could have really hurt Yugo."

"Am sorry."  Thibor continued to grin.  "Did not realize it. 
Yugo, next time is promising to go easier on you."  From the 
floor Yugo's expression grew dark with anger and embarrassment.

"Well..." Alice regarded him with suspicion.  The look lasted a 
few moments before her usual happy expression bubbled up to the 
surface.  "Okay then. C'mon Yugo, let's get you cleaned up before 
you have to go."  She pulled Yugo to his feet and led him up the 
stairs to the apartments above the garage.

Thibor slipped between the ropes and dropped the cement floor of 
the garage. Naoko was counting off bills for Mireiile, snapping 
them into the girl's hand with slightly more force than was 
probably necessary.

"Finished?"  Cammy looked up from her magazine.  "Did you win?"

"You don't know?"  Thibor's grin grew wider, the game was afoot. 
While working both were extremely careful to present a 
professional composure. That had inevitably led to the 
development of game in private.  A race to see who could crack 
the others composure first.

"No..."  Cammy turned a page.  "Sorry, I wasn't paying 
attention."

"Yes you were."  Thibor leaned closer his voice dropping to a 
hoarse whisper.

"Truly, I wasn't"  Cammy continued.  "I was deeply engrossed in 
this bridal magazine and therefore quite distracted from that 
protracted display of Romani machismo."

"Oh."  Thibor shrugged and sat down next to her.  "Is not 
explaining significant rise in body temperature in strategically 
important locations. Also slight but ever so important change in 
sound of skin sliding over clothes, indicating change in contour. 
Increase in respiration and heart rate, not to mention 
significant olfactory enhancement as natural pheromones are..."

"Thibor!"  Cammy colour had risen to a bright red blush, but she 
tried to continue.  "My Grandma, what big eyes, ears and nose you 
have."

"The better to see, hear and smell you with."  Thibor grinned. 
"Of course I was saving the best for last,  and believe me, is 
best to taste you with."

"That's quite enough of that."  Cammy's blush was nearly 
incandescent. "Your point."

"Forgot that one.  Okay perhaps was not saving best for last." 
Thibor's grin faded as Cammy rolled up her magazine and rapped 
him across the nose with it.

"Bad dog."  Cammy brandished the magazine.  "And don't think I 
won't spray you with the water bottle if you continue.  As we 
both know, this evening has been set aside for other things.  You 
will be engaging is some masculine drinking ritual."

"And you will be engaged in strange feminine ritual."  Thibor 
countered.

"Bloody right I will."  Cammy said.  "Someone is going to have to 
get this wedding planned."

"Which is why we are leaving it to Naoko."  Thibor agreed. 
"While reserving right to exercise creative control at highest 
level."

"Did you hear her last idea?"  Cammy leaned in against Thibor's 
shoulder and reached down to grab his tail, wrapping it around 
her own shoulders like a stole.  "She was ready to call in the 
Sanryu people."

"Sanryu?"  Thibor asked.  "Is who?"

"They're the company that puts out that Hello Kitty program." 
Cammy continued.  "They do weddings, so Instead of having friend 
and acquaintances as ushers and bridesmaids and the like, they 
bring in all these Hello Kitty characters to do the honours."

"What!?"  Thibor was clearly appalled.  "Please say is kidding."

"My point."  Cammy noted.  "No, dead serious I'm afraid.  Not to 
worry though, it is an idea that has been resolutely denied."

"People actually do this..."  Thibor mused.  "Well, at least when 
groom flees church screaming the bride can console herself with 
Hello Kitty vibra..."

"Thibor.."  Cammy brandished the magazine.

"Did not mean at the altar.  In privacy of hotel suite 
afterwards."  Thibor flinched in preparation of another strike.

"You will cut that out this instant, or I shall take you into the 
ring and conclusively and concussively finish the job that your 
nephew started." Cammy threatened, her accent becoming icily 
sharp.  She twisted the end of his tail to add emphasis to the 
threat.  "And regrettably for you, I do not share Yugo's 
propensity for involuntary lupine transformation."

Thibor sat stunned for a moment.  It was about to happen.  Years 
of wild hedonism, savage violence and epic debauch were supposed 
to harden him against just this sort of thing.  He knew it was 
his voice replying, and silently cursed the non-reptile portion 
of his mind for speaking out of turn.

"Yes Dear."

That was it.  Domestication.  Fuck.  Thibor really wanted that 
drink now, a whole bunch of drinks.  Where the hell was Yugo?

"Whenever you are ready mon ami."  Louis called out, his voice 
carrying easily across the room.  "The night grows no younger, 
and neither do we."

"Just waiting on Yugo."  Thibor got up his body shrinking as he 
resumed his human form, he snagged his sweater from the bench.

"If is remembering correctly, is no meetings between 1300 and 
1400 tomorrow."  He mentioned to Cammy.  "Will take you up on 
offer."

"Sounds delightful."  Cammy returned to her magazine, a pleased 
expression on her face.  "Fair warning though, I will be coming 
off a meeting with O'Neil, so try not to eat too much lunch."

Thibor was still grinning as he strode over to Louis and Simon. 
Mireille and Naoko were circulating around the pair like 
electrons.  Oppositely charged of course.  Yugo still hadn't made 
an appearance.

"Is just waiting on nephew."  Thibor noted, seeing the 
questioning look on Simon's face.  He wondered how many more 
times he would have to repeat that particular phrase.  What was 
keeping the boy.  Thibor's stomache dropped a foot, bounced twice 
and then reluctantly settled back into its original position.  He 
concentrated for a moment, letting his senses take on wolf-like 
sharpness.

"Son of Bitch!"  Thibor snorted loudly.  Yugo was taking his 
revenge, and chances were it was sweet.  He looked over at Simon.

"Not a chance Major.  It is not going to happen."  Simon had 
already read Thibor's expression.

"But you don't drink much anyway."  Thibor tried to keep his 
voice reasonable while his mind tried to wrap itself around a 
suitable punishment for Yugo.

"Precisely."  Simon noted in a slightly apologetic tone.  "I 
don't drink much, but if I am driving, I actually have to 
concentrate on not drinking much, rather than simply enjoying 
going out and not drinking much.  I know, I know, it sounds like 
I'm splitting hairs on this."

"No sound of splitting hares is completely different."  Thibor 
said dryly. "Louis?"

"Non mon ami."  Louis shook his head slowly.  "Never volunteer, 
you know this as well as I.  We shall draw lots or something 
equally random and unpleasant."

"I'll drive Papa."  Mireille offered.  "I do not mind."

"Non ma fille, you are kind to offer."  Louie said gently.  "But 
this is an evening for the old soldiers to drink and lie to one 
another."

"Oh."  Mireille shrugged in an unconscious imitation of her 
father.  "In that case, perhaps Naoko could drive."

"Oh I could."  Naoko smiled brightly, showing far too many teeth. 
"But I wouldn't dream of imposing myself on the men, especially 
when I'm not wanted."

"I'll do it."  Kenji's soft voice spoke from behind Thibor.  It 
was uncanny how the boy could suddenly appear as if by magic.

Thibor and Louis exchanged brief nods.  There was no need to ask 
about driver's license, as that had been part of Cammy's gift 
packages to Molly's charges.  Likewise ID would not be an issue. 
Kenji may not have been old enough to drink, but there wasn't a 
bouncer in the whole of Great Britain who could keep him out of a 
club if he wanted to get in.

"What about kitten little?"  Thibor asked.  "Won't she miss you?"

"Yes."  Kenji admitted.  "But not until much later when she 
realizes that I am gone.  Uriko will be upset initially, but will 
understand.  Naoko, please explain to her the reason."

"Sure.  Can do."  Naoko saluted with two fingers.  "Do you want 
me to pass any message to Yugo when he's finished...um... washing 
up."

"What makes you think he'll be finished by the time we get back?" 
Thibor said sourly.



2300 Drake's Bowls, Putney on the Slope, Great Britain.



"In the groove."  Thibor thought to himself as the haggard 
looking waitress slammed a trio of pint mugs down on the table 
and scooped up the proffered pound notes.  Hard drinking was 
really wasted on the young, as most of them had absolutely no 
idea on how to properly approach the subject.  Most binged early, 
drinking recklessly, going from dead sober to gut heaving 
intoxication in half an hour.  A brief moment of euphoria and 
then it was over, reduced to the inevitable carrot bits and 
tomatoe skins that accompanied the vomit express.  No.  A really 
epic drunk was based on plateaus.  Moving from pub to pub, 
starting with the nice establishments, and slowly descending to 
the dives.  Each stop bringing a higher level of intoxication, 
but providing the body with breaks to adapt to each.

"I'm  going to pay for this tomorrow."  Simon muttered taking a 
long swallow from his mug.  "But that's tomorrow."  The lanky 
junior officer slumped slightly in his chair.

"Is not on duty tomorrow."  Thibor reminded him.  "Can sleep in."

"You did not hear?"  Louis's half-open eyes held a commiserating 
look, he laid a ham-like hand on Simon's shoulder.  "Mademoiselle 
Yoshida has convinced him to accompany her on an intelligence 
gathering expedition."

"Shoes."  Simon slumped further.  "I promised to help her look 
for shoes for the bridesmaids."

Thibor tried to picture it.  He just couldn't.  The thought of 
shoe shopping was bad enough, but to do so with minimal sleep and 
a hangover to boot. Horror.  "How did it happen?"  Thibor placed 
a comforting hand on Simon's other shoulder.

"How does it ever happen?"  Louis shook his head slowly.  "They 
command, ah, I mean request, and we obey.  If we don't.... Life 
already has too much pain."  All four nodded.

"If you are not careful you will make up one morning and find 
yourself married."  Louis looked over the rim of his pint mug 
with a serious expression.  He was deliberate in not addressing 
the comment to one person directly.

"To marriage."  Thibor raised his mug.  "Triumph of hope over 
experience."

"Marriage."  Louis matched the toast.  "Do not listen too closely 
to Thibor on this, he is still lamenting his completely 
uncharacteristic desire to settle down.  I will tell you this as 
true.  I would not trade a second of my marriage for anything in 
the world... Except maybe a night with la petite fille from La 
Femme Nikita...."

"Okay.  Is time to take a walk."  Thibor drained the last of his 
pint. Louis starting up about Anne Pariauld was as good a  signal 
as any that it was time to interrupt the alcohol intake with an 
order of curry and chips. He made it to his feet, ignoring the 
floor's tendency to sway left and right.  It took him several 
attempts to snag the large duffel bag that rested beside his 
chair, but he finally managed to get a good grip on the well worn 
straps.  As he tried to wrestle it off the floor, Kenji stepped 
in and took it from him.

"Good boy."  Thibor relinquished the bag and devoted the greater 
portion of his faculties to staying upright.  They made it out to 
the street, the cold damp air a welcome relief.  Thibor cocked 
his head to the side and inhaled deeply through his nose, letting 
his senses sharpen.  His mind automatically filtered through the 
smells, discarding the urine, vomit and rotting garbage that 
threatened to overwhelm the more subtle flavours.  Curry.  Three 
distinct trails.  One was quickly discarded due to a reliance of 
a commercially available sauce.  The next was also eliminated. 
He enjoyed eating pussy as much as the next werewolf, but not in 
curry.  The last one. Thibor inhaled again, concentrating on that 
particular scent trail.  The smell was shattering.  Spices 
browning in a dry pan and then whisked into a rou with oil and a 
hint of flour.  Aged beef, sliced thinly and browned in scented 
oil.  Properly steamed rice with a hint of saffron.  Fresh pan 
bread, still smoking as the last traces of oil charred on the 
surface.

"Found it."  He managed, a hint of awe in his voice.  "Is 
ultimate late-night staggering drunk curry experience."

"Lead on."  Simon gestured in what he hoped was the right 
direction.

"What a night."  Thibor found that a steady pace kept the 
sidewalk where it was supposed to be.  "Surrounded by friends, 
moon is shining above, good food is only two blocks away.  Only 
one thing is missing."

"I don't think this is the Lieutenant Colonel's sort of thing." 
Simon noted.

"Two things."  Thibor corrected himself.  "You know what would be 
really great right now.  Vampire would be really great.  Nothing 
big.  Is not wanting a Dracula or Maximoff, but some long 
toothed, pretentious euro-necksucker on the prowl.  Ideally from 
gallic line of Robspierre."

"Why?"  Kenji asked, his expression becoming more focused.  The 
young ninja had taken the idea of vampire hunting to heart and 
was always ready to absorb tips and tricks from Thibor's 
encyclopedic knowledge of the subject.

"Is a great vampire to put the boots to."  Thibor continued. 
"Really satisfying.  Cannot turn to mist or animal, heals 
quickly, vulnerable to silver and wood, and disintegrates into 
ash with stake to heart or decapitation by appropriate weapon."

"Garlic?"  Kenji's question drew a low chuckle from Louis.

"It is a French vampire line."  Louis explained with somber, 
drunken dignity.  "It takes more than the curse of vampirism to 
put us off garlic."

"Okay."  Simon drawled.  "I have one order for a pretentious 
French vampire. Anyone else want anything?  Oh, you also get 
bacon, and your choice of toast, home fries or armed robbery with 
that. "

Simon's assessment of the situation was accurate as always.  The 
curry stand was currently unoccupied save for the proprietor, and 
a knobby looking thug in a leather jacket.  The thug was waving a 
twelve inch blade under the proprietor's nose.

"That's not a knife."  Simon drawled, adopting a reasonable 
facsimile of an Australian accent.

"Yes it is."  Kenji blurred forward, his fingers closing on the 
thug's wrist before the man was aware of him.

"It is!"  The thug readily agreed.  "Hey! Let go!"  His eyes 
locked on Kenji and he attempted to pull away.  The distraction 
provided ample time for Louis to scoop up one of the tables and 
toss it forcefully at the thug.

"Tactical review."  Thibor took in the situation.  Kenji had 
backed off and retrieved his duffle bag, Simon had kicked the now 
abandoned knife to one side and then retrieved it, and Louis was 
keeping the thug under wraps by the expedient method of standing 
on his head and chest.  Thibor's own role in the proceedings was 
obvious.

"Four beef curry specials with chips."  He told the proprietor. 
"Will also want extra pompadoms, some of that green stuff, three 
beers and cup of Ceylon tea, milk and sugar on the side.  Curry 
is all extra hot."


"Mild for me."  Simon thrust the blade between the shop door and 
frame and twisted sharply.  The steel broke with a sharp snapping 
noise.

Thibor winked at the proprietor and shook his head slightly. 
Simon was a dedicated soldier and an absolutely top drawer 
investigator, but he couldn't handle spicy foods.  Or at least he 
thought he couldn't.  Over the last year, Thibor and Louis had 
been gradually weaning the young officer onto hotter and hotter 
'mild' curries. His taste buds and stomach were rapidly 
approaching the tougher-than-leather rating that Thibor 
considered a minimum requirement for a field soldier.

The curry arrived at the same time as the Bobbies.



2400 The Green Man, Putney on the Slope, Great Britain


"Check it out Bluey, wot have we here."  There was a playfully 
malevolent gleam in Colonel John Byrd's eyes as he spotted the 
group enter the bar. Thibor ignored it.  There was always a 
playfully malevolent gleam in Byrd's eyes.  "A dog, a frog a 
hedgehog and a bump-on-a-log.  Must be one of those amazing 
journeys."

The dart that Captain O'Neil was throwing veered right, impacting 
with the cork that surrounded the dart board.

"Bad luck old son."  Byrd flicked his hand in the direction of 
the dart board, sinking three darts neatly into the triple twenty 
zone.  He signaled the bartender.  "Seven of the black stuff 
mate."

"Thanks."  Thibor felt a momentary burst of warm camaraderie with 
Byrd.  The small aspect of his mind not completed blotted out by 
alcohol attributed it to ordering the beer and the casual 
humiliation of O'Neil.  He approved of both actions.  Something 
was wrong though.  It took both hands for Thibor to figure it 
out.  Seven beers. There were only six of them, and despite his 
laddish reputation, Byrd was not a two-fisted drinker. Thibor 
scented the air. His mind may had been stomped into submission by 
the beer-cap studded army boots of the booze-fairy, but his 
senses were still intact.  Motorcycle oil, leather, worn denim, a 
diet leaning towards the limited cuisine of the Americas and a 
higher than average dose of natural pheromones.  Charcoal. 
Naoko's rumour mill mongering was right on the money, as the 
majority of the scent was clinging resolutely to Byrd.  He made a 
mental note to feed her the next day. 

Thibor smiled and raised the glass that was thrust into his hand. 
He actually approved of the pairing.  Charcoal's father would of 
course be appalled, hell, most people including many on his own 
team would be appalled, and they had every reason to be.  Byrd 
was... There was no really satisfying definition that summed him 
up.  He was Byrd.  Best to leave it at that.  However, he was 
oddly suited for Charcoal, at least in the short term.  He 
certainly wouldn't try and mislead her, or confuse sweaty, 
satisfying activities with emotional commitment.  It was odd that 
O'Neil was there, as Byrd usually left him behind when he was on 
the pull.  Charcoal probably dropped in on Byrd unexpectedly. 
Thibor didn't like the explanation - the words Byrd and 
unexpectedly didn't belong in the same sentence.

"So Hoyle let you off the leash tonight."  Byrd chuckled low in 
his throat.

Camaraderie or not, feeding Byrd his own teeth was also a viable, 
and likely highly satisfying endeavor.  Just not tonight.  Way 
too drunk.

"Was special treat."  Thibor admitted.  "Apparently something is 
broken, so is getting me fixed tomorrow."

"Hey John, thanks for ordering for me.  Oh hey!  Hi guys!" 
Charcoal reappeared from the direction of the loos and threw an 
arm around Byrd.  His own hand descended to rest above the 
waistband of her tight jean shorts. He waited a long moment 
before sliding it down to cup the buttock. "Boy's night out?"

"Drunks night out."  Thibor admitted.  Charcoal was dressed in 
biker chic. Black leather jacket, jean shorts, running shoes and 
a red halter top.  Both bra and panties were conspicuous be their 
absence.  That figured.  Thibor repressed the urge to bang his 
head repeatedly against a wall.  He was going to get married, he 
had put all of that behind him.  Except that it was standing in 
front of him and smelled really good.  The half finished glass of 
Guinness exploded in his hand.  Charcoal's eyes sparked with 
pleasure as she observed her effect on him.

"Yes!"  Thibor called on his wolf form, exploding outward to his 
full seven foot height.  "No!" The realization hit him a moment 
later as his supernatural endurance and powers of recovery 
whisked a night's worth of booze out of him in a single instant. 
It didn't matter.  Lascivious thoughts had been put aside the 
instant the scent had hit his nostrils.  

The double doors of the Green man swung outwards and a low mist 
crept into the room, rolling around the ankles of the patrons. 
They followed it in.  A dozen.  A dirty dozen.  A beautiful dirty 
dozen of vampires.  They were not affecting the lace and velvet 
fashion of the old fashioned pretentious undead, but rather the 
leather, and long, black coats of the Matrix inspired new wave of 
equally pretentious undead.

"Oh please.  Is telling me you are French."  Thibor barked.

"Of course.  Why do you theenk wee haf theees outrageous accents 
you seely keeng."  One of the vampires brayed.

"Go ahead a boil your bottom son of a window dresser.  Or we'll 
fire arrows into the tops of your heads and make castanets out of 
your testicles already."  Another chimed in.

"Your mother vas a hamb-ster und your father smelt of 
elderberries."

"American. American is good, even if is quoting Monty Python. 
Sort of deflates the whole pretentious bloodsucker thing though." 
Thibor said. Simon, aware that his combat abilities were impaired 
by drink was doing what he could to get people out of the line of 
fire and out the rear exits.  All he had to do was extend the 
pre-fight dialog to give him more time.  "Am betting is all 
Warrior slut fans to.  See how right arm is more developed than 
left..."

"Fie on him."  One of the vampires threw back his head and 
laughed in an obviously practiced motion.  "Everyone knows that 
werewolves are nothing compared to the singular might of 
vampires.  Wolves are mere servants to the princes of the 
undead."  The other joined him in the laughter.

"We are? "  Thibor looked skeptical.

"C'est vrai mon ami.  You are."  Louis said sadly, taking off his 
glasses and casually polishing them.  He tucked them into a 
pocket and brought out a pair of mirrored sunglasses. "You have 
seen the films, you know the ones with the low cut blouses and 
heaving bosoms."

"Oh sure if vampire is Christopher Lee or Lugosi, but these."  He 
gestured. "But is just looking at them.  Is still have some tan 
so is reasonably recent conversion, no prominent extension of 
fingernails and ichorous body fluid as evidenced by darkening of 
surface veins and arteries.  Command of mists is evident, but is 
probably limited in ability to alter weather due to relative 
youth and power.  Oh and is all wearing sunglasses, so am giving 
good odds that hypnotic powers are limited at best or are too 
dumb to use them.  Either is good."

"What...how?"  A tic appeared in the group's composure.

"Oh is getting better."  Thibor played a hunch.  "Am betting a 
keg that you were contacted by agent of Master vampire and 
promised inclusion is cabal of powerful bloodsuckers, membership 
in unholy, undead labour union, all you had to do was show worth 
by killing a puny little insignificant, lowly werewolf."

"Bad break mates."  Byrd tossed a dart lightly up and down in his 
hands. "You wouldn't know it, but the big boys in the bloodsucker 
community don't appreciate grotty little toe-rags, that would be 
you sorry lot, giving the vampire world a bad name."

"Is sad.  Is all standing there with faces like a smacked arse." 
Thibor grinned a wide, wolfish grin.  "But are oh so impressive 
princes of undead. Oooh.  Gasp.  Tremble.  You are all giants 
mincing about upon the earth.  We are in awe of your ghastly 
powers."

"I think you've pretty much laid it out for them old son."  Byrd 
added.  "No need to belabor the point."

"American vampires."  Thibor reminded him.

"Slipped my mind that did."  Byrd nodded.  "Carry on then."  His 
grin widened as Charcoal drove an elbow into his side.  He 
squeezed her arse in response.

"Carry on Up the Vampires? Or would that be Carry on Staking?" 
Thibor raised his hand above his head expectantly.  The stock of 
his overlarge shotgun smacked neatly into the open palm.  What a 
good boy Kenji was; inconspicuous and extremely efficient. 
Thibor ran the slide, relishing the smoothly oiled mechanism that 
fed the soup-can sized shell into the breech. He brought the 
weapon to his shoulder and fired three times with brisk 
efficiency.

All three vampires went down, their flesh sloughing away to 
flames and ash as the ammunition, hardwood skewers, soaked in 
garlic essence, ravaged the vampire's bodies.  The full 
disintegration told Thibor that he was dealing with a bloodline 
originally from the Teutonberg region, which also explained the 
lack of hypnotic power.  Garlic, wood and silver to the heart or 
head, running water and sunlight.  Two of the vampires grabbed 
for his arm, attempting to sink their teeth into him, a futile 
gesture as the fangs were unable to gain purchase through his 
thick fur and prenaturaly toughened flesh.  Louis and Simon were 
at the rear entrance.   Simon was stabbing with  a pool cue, 
controlling space between the attackers and the door, while Louis 
had his handgun out and was calmly firing.  The smell of hot 
silver slugs was nauseating, but Thibor trusted Louis not to 
engage in friendly fire.  Even with a night's worth of booze in 
him, Louis was steady and supremely competent, more so than most 
people were sober.  Kenji was at the front door, a pykrete stake 
held reverse grip in each hand.  A moment of worry hit Thibor. 
Charcoal.  Her recent experiences with the Black Millennium might 
be hampering her ability to fight a vampiric foe.

"You @#$&*%! $#@#%!  #$&#$@ #! *&%$##@$%$!"  Charcoal's voice cut 
about the din of gunfire.  Thibor was impressed.  He only used 
those particular words on really special occasions.  If anything 
her capture and subsequent torture by the Black Millennium had 
only strengthened her fighting resolve.  One of the vampires had 
attempted to grab her, but had found out that its supernatural 
strength was second rate compared to the redhead's.  Lacking a 
stake she had torn one of its arms completely off and rammed in 
into the vampire's heart.  Although not a mortal blow the 
creature staggered away from her, staring dumbly at the forearm 
and hand which protruded from its chest.

"Is pleased to meet you."  Thibor shook the extended hand and 
then pulled it out with a wet squelching noise.  He immediately 
filled the void with the shotgun and spackled the vampire's ashes 
against the dartboard like stucco. At Charcoal's back, Byrd was 
easily avoiding the clumsy swipes of the vampire pressing him. 
Reaching out with the casual ease of long practice, Byrd fastened 
his hands onto the vampire's head and twisted abruptly.  There 
was a satisfying crack as the neck shattered.  The vampire 
staggered back, its head flapping bonelessly on the broken neck. 
Sweeping a chair off the floor, Byrd snapped one of the legs off 
and slammed it into the vampire's chest.

A muffled explosion of ash and flame rolled out from the front 
door as Kenji rammed the stakes into two vampires simultaneously. 
Thibor's grin got wider.  He was very proud of the pykrete 
stakes.  The suspension of wood pulp from a blessed cross in holy 
water and then frozen.  Incredibly strong and ductile, like a 
good ash stake, but with rather more spectacular results.  The 
holy water would immediately boil into rapidly expanding vapor 
upon contact with undead flesh, turning into a miniature steam 
explosion which nicely distributed the wood throughout the area 
pierced by the stake. The only drawback was that you couldn't 
keep a vampire staked with one, but that's why you always carried 
the wooden ones as well.  Thibor fired until his ammunition 
canister was empty.  There was a long moment of silence, marred 
only by the pitiful ugh-ugh noises of the vampire still trying to 
chew into his right arm.  Tossing his still smoking weapon to 
Louis, Thibor hooked two claws into the vampire's nostrils and 
slowly bore backwards until the jaw popped.

"Grenade."  Thibor held out his hand.  Moments later the bamboo 
grenade was dropped into it.  Thibor forced it into the vampire's 
throat and tucked the creatures head under his armpit.

"Fire in the hole."  Thibor's arm jumped slightly as the 
explosive went off, directing the majority of the explosion down 
through the vampire's body, which sloughed away into ash.  That 
was all of them.  Seven for him, two each for Kenji and Louis, 
and one for Byrd.  Not that he was keeping score. Perhaps a half 
for Charcoal, as she had lent a hand in one, literally as well a 
figuratively.  

"Oh.. Ick."  Charcoal said matter-of-factly as she examined the 
black ichor that had sprayed over her hands, forearms, hair, 
shirt, jacket and shorts. Thibor shrugged, the slight vibration 
in the ceiling and the sound of water rushing through pipes told 
him what was going to happen next.  The gun smoke and fire and 
ash from the vampire destruction had reached the detectors. The 
sprinklers began spitting forth a steady stream of water. 
Charcoal began rubbing at her skin and clothes, deliberately 
oblivious to the others, but not the effects of the chill water.

"Mes amis."  Louis made a small circling gesture, indicating that 
they should divert their gaze.  Thibor complied, facing away.  He 
could understand Louis' feelings on the matter.  Louis' daughter 
Mirielle was of a similar age, and Louis would expect the same 
consideration from another parent.  Surprisingly Byrd joined them 
as they faced away.  For long moments there was silence.

"So.."  Thibor asked Kenji.  "Is enjoying London?"

"Yes." Kenji's stoic features were unreadable.

"It's a nice city."  Simon added.  "Everyone's polite, which 
makes it feel like home."

"There is good art and much in the way of culture."  Louis said. 
"And it is not so far from France."

"True."  Thibor added.  "English food is questionable though, 
except for breakfast, but city is cosmopolitan enough to have 
broad regional cuisine available."

"Roight."  Byrd cut in.  "An you can't beat the footy, or the 
traditions."

"Yes."  Kenji.  "Like the tradition of having a large mirror 
behind the bar."

All five nodded in agreement.


Monday 02:00 Molly's Garage - England


Cammy looked up from the report she was reading her way through, 
the unmistakable roar of Thibor's car in the garage bay announced 
the return of the intrepid bar-stool explorers.  She glanced over 
the considerably quieter common room.  Uriko was curled up on a 
cushion in a cat-like fashion, the light of the television 
playing over her sleeping features.  Cammy had turned the volume 
off an hour ago, but was concerned that actually snapping the 
telly off might wake the teenager.  Molly was still puttering 
about with an engine on the kitchen table, occasionally pausing 
to remove another beer from the fridge.  A long line of 
Newcastle Red bottles lined up along the counter stood as a 
testament to her efforts.  Naoko had a laptop open on her lap and 
was attacking some sort of investigation with frightening 
intensity. Mirielle was asleep in a reclining chair, an open book 
on the modern aircraft engineering across her chest.

The opening bars of Rule Brittania echoed up from the garage. 
They were shushed into silence, only to resume, at a higher 
volume.  Uriko reacted to the new sound with a screeching, 
hissing noise.  Cammy was impressed.  One moment the cat girl was 
asleep, the next she was practically stuck to the ceiling. 
Flipping her bangs from her eyes and rearranging her pajamas, 
Uriko marched out of the room and returned moments later dragging 
Kenji by the arm.

"YouaresointroubleKenji.Youdidntevensaygoodbyewhenyouleft. 
Tellmeeverythingthathappened. Whatdidtheytalkabout?"  Uriko's 
bossy chatter continued as she headed out of the common room with 
a helpless Kenji in tow. Cammy smiled.

"They make a cute couple."  Naoko looked up from her computer 
briefly.  Her eyes hardened as Thibor and Louis came through the 
door, Simon hanging limply between them.

"Sorry."  Thibor said.  "I think we broke him."

"Non.  It was his own fault."  Louis said.  "He was celebrating 
finding Capitan O'Neil cowering under the table in a pool of 
water not entirely of his own making."

"He is so in trouble. We're supposed to go shopping tomorrow." 
Naoko stomped over to the trip and displayed her watch.  "Today. 
We're supposed to go shopping today."

"Okay."  There were moments made for male solidarity.  This 
wasn't one of them.  He disengaged Simon from his shoulder and 
half hung him on Naoko. She grunted slightly at the weight.

"You're in big trouble Chief."  Naoko shifted her arm to better 
support Simon.

"Huh?"  Simon roused slightly and looked up at her.  "Oh... 
Naoko... wow. You're so pretty."

"That might work in Mononoke Hime."  Naoko warned, a pleased 
blush rising on her features. "But not... Oh come on Chief, let's 
get you home."

Louis checked on Mireille.  As he looked up Molly pointed towards 
a closet. The big Frenchman retrieved a blanket, gently removed 
his daughter's glasses, put the book aside, after carefully 
marking the page, and then tucked the blanket around her. 
Satisfied he walked to the second couch and flopped forward onto 
it, his snores starting the moment his head hit the padded arm. 
Molly smiled slightly and fetched another blanket, which she 
threw over him.

"So you had a good time?"  Cammy's nose wrinkled slightly.  There 
was no booze smell coming off Thibor, although there was a heavy 
garlic smell; considerably more than even the most pungently 
spiced kabob would provide.

"Was okay."  Thibor said, sitting down next to her.  He was about 
to say something else when Alice snuck past them and into the 
kitchen.  Snuck was a relative term, given that she was humming a 
happy-happy song and bouncing slightly on her heels.  She began 
rummaging in the fridge, her short pink half-robe rising to near 
scandalous heights.  Moments later she re-emerged with a plate 
laden with leftover pizza, an enormous bag of mixed salad and a 
pair of beers.  She started as she realized that everyone had 
returned.

"Sorry, Yugo sort of got distracted"  She said.

"Is just fine."  Thibor said magnanimously.  "Tell him he is 
forgiven. Kenji drove for us, and was really useful when vampires 
showed up.  Tell Yugo that young man is first class slayer.  Cold 
and competent pro."

"Okay.." Alice said uncertainty as she retreated from the room.

"When the vampires showed up?"  Cammy turned to Thibor.  

"Okay, was better time than just okay." Thibor admitted.

****************