a storm is coming...

Ethan sat on the roof of the building, his legs dangling over the edge. The rain plastered his hair to his head and reduced his cigarette to a soggy clump of paper. Mercutio squirmed in Ethan's pocket. He didn't like getting wet. Ethan reached into his pocket and petted the mouse. With an indignant squeak, Mercutio sank his teeth into Ethan's thumb. He didn't draw blood.

So Day wanted to know why Ethan walked the roof at night...

Ethan sat and watched as the city was thrown into darkness, the humming of electricity giving way to silence, beautiful silence. He thought about a poem he once heard somewhere.

"A storm is coming, Frank says. A storm that will swallow the children. And I will deliver them from the kingdom of pain. I will deliver the children back to their doorsteps. And send the monsters back to the underground. I'll send them back to a place where no one else can see them. Except for me. Because..." Because why? Ethan couldn't remember any more.

---

The moment I saw her, I knew I had to say something. A series of lists ran through my head like a ticker-tape. Conversation starters, ice-breakers, casual comments. Talk about the weather. Talk about the food. Talk about her hair. No, don't talk about her hair, that's creepy.

"Uh..." Oh, God, she's looking at me. She looks kinda nice. Not really pretty. Well, not really pretty anymore. She might have been once.

"That's a good book." That was so lame. She's smiling. Does she think I'm stupid? I am stupid. What was I thinking, coming over here? She's going to blow me off, wait and see. Damn, I'm an idiot.

"I know. I've already read it."

"Oh... Why read it again then?"

She shrugged and turned the paperback over to study the cover with a pleasant frown. "Interview with the Vampire" was blazoned across the front in red, curling script. "It's my favourite book."

I nodded. "Yeah. One of mine too." My feet shifted. I didn't mean for them to, they just did. It looked like I had to go to the bathroom. Or like I had some weird restless legs condition.

She looked down. "You want to sit?"

With you? Yes, please.

"Sam Marconi." I sat and held out my hand at the same time, dipping my wrist in the syrup topping her stack of waffles. She laughed and handed me the napkin, still warm from her hand.

"I'm Alex," she told me.

"My brother's name is Alex," I blurted, mentally slapping myself.

Alex laughed again, a sound that made me shiver despite the sweltering heat radiating from the kitchen at my back. "Well, you can call me Captain, just so you don't get us two confused."

I shook my head. "Oh, I don't think I could confuse you with him. My brother's a guy and you're... not. Yeah, you knew that already. Well, I mean, I hope you'd know that already. You've been you for, I don't know, I'd guess maybe twenty-four, twenty-five years... Er, maybe less, probably less, definitely less. Nineteen years? Please kill me before I do it myself."

Alex/Captain set her chin in her hand. "I'll let you do it. I don't like blood."

"But you're reading a vampire novel."

"That's different."

"Is it?"

Two and a half hours later, I had a number of reasons why vampires made infinitely better lovers, a list of books to read, and a date for Friday night.