"Relax kid. It'll be fine." The voice is a low, gruff rumble, the words growled out from the speaker's throat, filled with self confidence. The speaker fits the voice like a glove, broad shouldered, deep brown eyes with a chiselled mien that draws more than one appreciative glance from members of the opposite sex.

The other that he speaks to hunches down further in his chair at his companion's words, scrunching further into his seat as his eyes flicker darting glances at a couple a few tables down from them. Unconsciously, his fingers turn the glass of whisky round and round on the table, his tongue darting upwards to lick at his lips.

"Take a drink. And don't hunch so much. It'll be fine. We've done this before, just stick to the plan." Again that low rumble, the speaker leaning back on his own chair as an example. He throws a hand backwards over the back of the chair, turning his body ever so slightly as he does so to get a better angle.

A self-conscious laugh is pulled from the younger man's lips, as he takes hold of the glass more firmly and downs the whisky in one gulp. Coughing, he leans forwards to place the glass aside, turning red with emberassment. Like his friend he is brown eyed, though black hair with highlights of blond cover his younger visage. A jutting aristocratic nose dominates his face, holding one's gaze from the slightly too plump lips. A few coughs more are ripped from him, before he lowers his hand from his mouth. With a wry smile, he glances at the casual stance his companion takes with envy before speaking. "Aren't you scared Lex?"

"Shitless," Pause "Relax, it'll be fine. Enjoy the show kid." A slight tilt of his head forwards indicates the stripper he speaks of, her writhing motion on the middle stage capturing most others attention. A slight smile crosses his face as he continues to watch before he murmurs "And get yourself another drink. We might be here a while."

Nodding slightly, the younger man turns to the scantily clad waitress, making his order. Leaning forwards, he stares at the stripper for a moment, though his mind is not there. Instead, he darts his glance to the pair once more, watching them covertly. A young blonde clad in a tight white shirt and cut denim shorts leans in to her companion, laughing at something he says. Her date for the evening leans forwards further, whispering into her ear and offering the slightest squeeze to her thigh with a hand. He leans back after a moment, passing her tequila on. Clad simply in a pair of faded blue jeans and a tight black shirt, he smiles slightly at her words and watches her drink, running his free hand through his slicked back black hair in an unconscious motion.

As his drink arrives, the younger man glances at it before he stands, muttering "I need to use the washroom."

"Don't be long." Lex flashes a quick smile at the joke, nodding. "Down right."

"I know." Biting back the rest of the retort, knowing he was just trying to be helpful he heads for the boys room. As he passes close to the couple, he can't help but take a closer look, casting his glance down at the pair and the small supply of empty glasses before pushing into the room.

Outside, three men sit in a black van, waiting. One waits near the steering wheel, staring at the door over his ham and lettuce sandwich. Biting into it, he sighs, wishing they hadn't run out of mustard. It just doesn't taste the same without mustard. Flicking a glance back, he opens his mouth to pass on this observation before he sees what's going on behind him.

On the floor of the van, his legs pulled up towards him in a ball, Jim Lavelle tries to keep it together. His breathing coming short and shallow, he shuts his eyes tight, trying to push the memories away. They keep coming back, his house, a torn rubber duck, splashes of red, the smell. The smell. He'll never forget that smell.

Seated slightly away from him, his lips pulled up in disgust, Ken Marks stares at Jim. A hand is clenched tight, his teeth ground together in anger as he bites back words and watches the weakling. At last, unable to keep quiet any longer, he spits out "Pull it together shithead. We got work to do."

"I…" Forcing the words out, pushing them pass his fear, the roiling pit of bile and acid in his stomach growing worst, he whispers the words, his voice trembling "I'm fine"

"Bullshit you are. You said you were ready. Put it together damn it, or get out."

"Ken…" as he begins to speak, a rap on his window turns the driver from the scene behind him. Twisting round, his jaw drops open as he sees the policeman standing outside.

Zipping up, Richard walks out of the cubicle to the washbasin, running cold water over his hands and casting around for soap. Find that lacking, he grimaces, scrubbing his hands together before splashing water over his face. He draws a deep breath, letting it out as he watches water run down his face, too wide eyes staring back at him.

"Get a hold of yourself Richard," he whispers to himself.

A meaty hand claps him on the back, making him jump. Turning around, wide eyed, hands darting upwards as if to protect himself, he sees a 40'ish gentleman cross him to use the other basin. He turns, throwing a wink at Richard as he speaks "First time eh? Relax. It's all legal."

Throwing one last wink and grin, the man walks out of the bathroom to enjoy the rest of his shows, leaving Richard alone. Richard slumps forwards, leaning his elbows on the basin as he tries to catch his breath, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, drawing a couple of deep breaths before tearing off the last paper napkin, wiping his face down as he returns to the table.

Lex flickers a quick, concerned glance at his friend as he returns before murmuring, "Fast mover this one. Better drink up. Looks like we'll be going soon." A hand twitches slightly as he enters a short message into his cell phone. Finishing, he rests it back down on the table and follows his own advice.

The couple stands, a last note dropped on the table as they walk out. The girl leans on the man slightly as they exit, her hands clamped around his arm. Stumbling out, she giggles at something else he says, leaning into him.

A hand twitches as he hits the send on his cell phone, the message zipping outwards. Once and then again as he resends the same message before putting the phone away. Softly, under his breath he counts.

About time. Staring at the short simple message on his phone, Christoper Malin grins. He drops a hand to his side, touching the stake hidden in his jacket before grinning. He casts one last glance at the targets ride, standing up and moving down the street. About time. He grins, feeling the adrenaline pump through him, the rush that he lives for begin as he exits the café.

All three jump slightly as the phone beeps, indicating a message. Reaching for the phone, Ken darts one last disgusted glance at Jim before hitting the read button. Staring at the two, a rap draws his attention back to the waiting policeman. Flushing, his heart beating fast he slowly rolls the window down.

"Sir, do you know you're parked in a no parking zone?"

A weak nod is all that he can offer before the policeman spots jim. His voice growing stronger and firmer, he steps back from the van, a hand dropping to the butt of his gun as he continues "Could you please step out of the vehicle and show me your license and registration?"

Nodding, the driver pushes the door open, getting out. Handing over his documents he temporises "Uhh… sorry officer. You see, ummm… my friend here, well, he's ummm… kinda having a panic attack." True enough, he grunts.

"Over what, Mr…" glancing down at the registration, the officer continues "Freeman?"

"Uhh… well, see Jim's umm…" glancing down at his hands, he notices his ring "getting married tomorrow." He coughs slightly, flashing a tense grin as he continues "And well, we kinda threw him a party beforehand. You know how it is. Anyway, things got a little out of hand and he umm, well he kinda" coughs "you know."

"I see." Tapping the documents together, the officer tries to hide a slight smile, thinking he knows where this is headed.

"Yeah. And well, you know, him, his wife. Wife to be that is. Umm… fiancée." Grimacing, he casts a look backwards, seeing Ken gesturing impatiently and tapping his watch "Anyway. She's the jealous type and…"

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the target walk pass them on the opposite side of the road, headed down a side street to its car. He wipes at his face, sweat beginning to form on this humid night even as his heartbeat drums in his chest. Blurting out, he continues "Anyway, if you could you know, just let us go. I mean, it's a bad enough night as it is and…"

"Shit." Stepping out of the strip bar, Ken sees Freeman desperately trying to get the policeman from the van. Grimacing, he turns to the left, following behind their target as he glances back to Richard. "Keep walking."

Nodding dumbly, Richard follows behind, speeding up slightly to walk beside Ken. They turn down the side street as well, speeding up slightly as they glance at their watches.

"Chris wouldn't…?"

"He would. Come on." His lips drawn into a grim line now, Ken begins to trot after their prey, his eyes flashing slightly.

Where are they? Crouched behind the dumpster, his fingers wrapped tightly over the stake, he waits. He hears the giggle, as the two come closer and he growls in his mind.

Fuck them. I don't need them.

Grinning wider, he tightens his grip on the stake, savouring the moment.

"What was that?" Turning his head slightly the officer shoots a glance to the side street.

"What was what?" Blurting the words out, he clamps his mouth shut and mentally kicks himself. Real smart, real smart. "Uh… anyway officer. Can we go? I mean, please?"

Puzzled, the officer frowns and turns back to Freeman. For a moment, he feels that tickle in the corner of his mind. But its been a long day already for him, and its going to be longer. In the end, he nods and gestures to the van, already turning back to the side street. Belated responses kick in and he adds "Don't do it again."

"Yes sir. Of course sir. Thanks…" Moving almost unduly quickly, Freeman climbs back into his van, pausing for a brief moment to get back his license and registration from the officer before kicking the van into gear.

From behind, a soft voice adds "Get to the car. Now."

Fuck. The two belt around the corner, running full speed after the scream. They spot Chris, held by the throat by the man, his true form now revealed. Fangs drop from his lips even as he draws the other to him.

Slightly ahead of Lex (he's always been fast on his feet), Richard acts. Without time to think, he dives forwards in a tackle, aiming for the vampire's knees to take him down.

The impact kicks the breath out of Richards body, something in his collar bone snaps as he hits him wrong. Yet they all go down, the groggy Chris, himself and the vampire. The first to get on his feet is the vampire, moving unnaturally fast.

Lex steps in, lunging upwards from a crouch, his arm raised high. A perfect angle, the perfect shot. If only it wasn't so fast. Twisting slightly, the stake misses, tearing flesh and cloth as it skims across the creature's chest.

Rolling over, his eyes clouded with pain, Richard scrambles with his right hand for the stake that should be in his jacket. He watches as the vampire darts forwards in a blur, its fingers curled into claws for Lex's throat. He watches, almost in slow motion as it darts pass, and for a brief moment he thinks that it missed.

And then the blood comes. Spurting from where Lex's throat had been, the blood comes out like a tap turned on, splashing warm blood on them all. For a moment, the vampire pauses, seeming enthralled by the destruction it has wrought. And then its features change and it jumps on the falling body, its mouth open wide as it scrambles for the blood.

In the corner next to the dumpster, but a foot from where Chris had been waiting, the young girl watches all this. A hand jammed into her mouth, her eyes wide as she watches her date transform into something else, feeding on… a man's body. No. His blood.

Pushing himself upwards, seemingly forgotten by the body, Richard stares at the creature slurping over what had been his friend. His mind numb, he gulps again, his fingers closed over the stake. For a moment, he forgets what he is there for, as his mind tries to comprehend what has happened.

A soft muted groan from Chris wakes him up, and with a scream of rage and fear, he jumps on the creature. He swings the stake downwards two handed, not even feeling the pain in his left shoulder as he smashes the stake into the creatures back.

For a moment, the creature throws him backwards, but luck is with him as the stake strikes the heart. It freezes and slowly topples onto Lex's corpse, as Richard struggles to stand. He glances down at the body, lost for the moment. What was he supposed to do now…? Something… something…

"The gasoline. Fire." Croaking slightly, he staggers upright. He moves to the girl, continuing speaking to Richard "I'll get the girl. Go. Burn the fucker."

Nodding dumbly, his hands beginning to shake he pulls the small silver drinking case from inside his jacket. He splashes it onto the limp creature, his hands shaking so badly that he drops it onto the case. He gulps down another long breath, patting his pockets for a lighter. Lighter…

He stops, his mouth hanging open in horror. He knows where the matches are. Frozenly, he stares at the corpse, not wanting to move that body, to touch his friend. To touch what used to be his friend. His breathing speeds up again, his eyes widen as he tries to tell himself that he should do this. They don't have time…

"Here." Pushing a zippo into his hands, the girl glares at the body. With another, she helps prop up Chris. With one last, hate filled look she helps Chris down the street, towards the opening. And I was going to sleep with him

"Too late."

"Don't just fucking stare, come on." Snarling this at Jim, Ken grabs hold of Chris, hauling him into the van. He jumps down from the van, going to help Richard as he stumbles from the street. Gripping him, he pulls him forwards into the van as they all pile in.

As he sits there, staring into space, Richard wipes a hand across his face, leaving a smear of blood across his brows. He blinks, trying to think but all that comes to his mind is one simple fact. Lex's dead… and I couldn't help him.

In the corner, touching his head where blood continues to well from a client, he groans slightly. Staring up at the girl, Chris can't help but grin and say "So. How do you want to die? Slow or fast?"