Juicy Fruit

It was hours before they returned to the house so the next shift could take their places. Micajah didn't complain even once, but Cara had a feeling he was just putting on a good face. For one thing, he spent the rest of their shift matching his speed to her paltry human pace. For another, his morbid sense of humor seemed to have died down.

"You go ahead, I'll wait here for the first guy to come out." Cara said when they reached the front porch. Micajah gave her a hard look. She lifted the gun out of her holster to show she wasn't defenseless and shoo'd him inside with it. "Go on, I've got this." The sooner he went inside the sooner he could fix… well… what she did to him. He raised his hands in surrender and backed away slowly.

"Alright, fine. Just- be careful with that thing…" he tilted his head toward her hands then slipped inside the house.

Now that she was alone, the porch felt even eerier. Especially since every little sound seemed magnified. Almost every sound.

"The one that got away survives yet another night." Cara gasped and whirled around, feeling electricity shoot from the tippy top of her head to the end of her toes in a split second. She hadn't heard him sneaking up on her.

"Liam. Was it?" She asked, her gun still in her hands. His eyes slowly lowered to the weapon then back up to her before smirking and leaning back nonchalant against the wall of the house.

"Yes ma'am."

"What do you want?" She asked. Not letting her guard down no matter how laid back he looked.

He shrugged.

"Just doing my duty juicy fruit." Her eyebrows shot up, Juicy fruit, what was that supposed to mean? "You can go in now, I relieve you of your watch."

Gee thanks, she thought as she holstered the gun. But what she really said was, "Why didn't you just say so?" as she pushed passed him and darted through the front door.

"You're welcome," he hollered backed after she slammed it in his face.

"Smart ass." she muttered to herself. Then she looked forward and froze. Ethan and Micajah weren't waiting for her in the kitchen. They were here in the living room, or, the clinical room as they called it. Both men had turned to face her and now all three of them were awkwardly staring at each other.

Ethan was holding a needle suspended over his own forearm, with a tube running from it to a blood bag on the coffee table. Micajah was seated on a bench framed by twinkling Christmas lights as he leaned forward with his hand pressed firmly against the gun shot wound. Mel told her the lights were placed there for positive reinforcement, a way to remind people of fond memories, and of course the giving spirit.

"Drop your gear off in the kitchen and get yourself something to eat. I'll come get it after we're finished here," Ethan said in the same tone of voice her mom used to tell her to go wait in the car after church while she disengaged with the rest of the church ladies. It didn't sound right coming from a man about to stick a needle in his own arm to feed a wounded vampire. The thought made her queasy and light headed.

"I'm not hungry," she replied but gave them a wide berth as she escaped the room and dropped off her gun and holster belt in the kitchen as instructed. She felt a wash of relief the moment it was done and over with. But she didn't head upstairs to bed right away. She was about to but the sound of Ethan and Micajah's voices caught her attention and she inched toward the doorway to listen instead.

"How did this happen?" Ethan asked. He spoke quietly and was hard to hear. So was Micajah and Cara had to focus really hard to make out the words.

"I made a mistake. I left her side for just a moment, It won't happen again." One of them sighed, she wasn't sure who.

"Is she ok?" Ethan asked. His voice was different when she left the room. Less 'c'mon guys isn't this fun?' camp counselor-ish, and more 'weight of the world on my shoulders' fatigued.

"... I hope so." Micajah answered. The conversation hit a lull after that, and Cara backed away carefully before turning toward the stairs.

Busted.

Mel was standing at the bottom of the stairs watching Cara eavesdrop.

"How long have you been standing there?" She asked.

"Oh you know how the saying goes... long enough," Mel answered with a lighthearted shrug. "I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd stretch my legs and come get a glass of water." She opened a cabinet next to the sink and grabbed a blue plastic cup and started filling it up with tap water.

"Oh. I'm thirsty too, actually." Cara realized. "But that's not why I'm here." Mel nodded.

"I know. Ethan put you on night watch. " Mel passed Cara the blue cup then reached in the cabinet to get another one for herself. "How was it?"

Cara lowered her cup from her lips and raised an eyebrow. "How was what? the water... or the suicide mission?"

"That bad huh?" Mel chuckled. Cara took a deeper drink from her cup and nodded. She almost died. Micajah got shot, he might have died, or eaten her to stay alive if he had to. But then Ethan took that bullet for her it seemed. She let out a heavy sigh of her own.

"Well you know how the saying goes...." Cara replied, "it could have been worse."