Melodrama by Cousin Mary Jenkins

Tracy sat across from Screed at the crate that passed for a table in his hidey-hole and almost whined, "Come on Screed, if you know something, tell me!"

The carouche looked bored, "I thought ya said ya weren't a comin' down 'ere any mo'? Thought ya said I had ta clean up me act en stop stealin' fram tha yuppy-guppies a'for ya'd set yer dainty tootsies back in me 'umble abode?"

Tracy glared at the Cockney vamp who's recent hobby of taking cell phones from commuters and gluing them to the CN Tower had resulted in her storming out not two weeks ago, "Come one Screed, you know that was wrong. Funny, but wrong."

"I dids't kill any o' 'em." He pointed out, "An' ya got all up on yer 'igh 'orse en said ya weren't gonna visit er ev'n speeks ta me any mo'!"

"What I said was I wouldn't talk to you until you stopped!" Tracy finally lost her patience and began yelling, she jumped to her feet and glared down at him.

"Well," Screed sniffed, "I 'aven't stopped."

Tracy ran a hand down the front of her face, "That doesn't matter right now, my new case is a lot more important."

"So I's can keeps it up?" He grinned.

Tracy closed her eyes, "Fine."

"Groovy."

Tracy just stared at him a minute and shook her head, if she said anything he'd just come up with something weirder. "So, have you heard anything? Vachon once told me you had a lot more connections to the underground than him."

"Like wotted 'e say?" The carouche looked wary.

"Like the collectors who harvest blood for vampires and that kind of thing," Tracy explained, shuddering at the thought.

Screed nodded, looking pleased that he'd managed to shock her. Sometimes the blonde just seemed a bit too comfortable with his vampiric nature she did. "Jus' cuz I don'ts eats no 'umans don't mean I ain't a dangerous scarey type."

Tracy smiled, "You scare me Screed, really."

Screed rolled his eyes, "Yeah, roight."

"So what have you heard?" She pressed.

"Nuttin' 'oney," His face split into a huge grin, he'd been waiting months to use that joke, "But I'll keep me ear ta tha groun' fer ya."

Tracy rolled her eyes, "Thanks Screed, I appreciate it."

Suddenly they both became aware of the echoing of footsteps coming down the corridor that led to his dark and cosy nook. Tracy glanced at Screed, from his relaxed demeanour she knew that the visitor had to be either Vachon or Urs, and judging from the heaviness of the footfalls, she's lay odds that it was the former. An evil grin lit her face.

Screed raised one red eyebrow at the mortal woman as she walked over and sank down into the hammock he'd picked up at a recent swap meet. She set herself swinging with a kick of her long legs and smiled mischievously at him. When she pulled off her light jacket to reveal a tight tee shirt and mussed her hair, he couldn't help but smile. This was by far his favourite of every woman his friend had ever set his sights on, she had a warped sense of humour and a mean streak a mile wide! When Tracy motioned him to join her while she chewed on her lips to give herself that 'kiss ravaged' look, Screed hurried to her side and sat beside her, preparing to participate in the latest in the long line of pranks on his best mate.

When Vachon walked in the doorway to visit Screed he was met by the sight of Tracy curled up at his friend's side. She was running her fingers through... well, where Screed's hair would have been if he'd had any, and sighing as the old sailor regaled her with tales of the sea.

"An' so it were jus' me an' ol' Cap' Bullworth, er as we called 'im, Capteen Bull-sh--"

"Oh Screed!" Tracy cut him off with a happy sigh, even as she twapped him in the back of the head when she felt his hand creep onto her thigh. Both pretended they hadn't noticed Vachon yet, and Tracy cooed in the carouche's ear, "I swear you're the most wonderful, interesting man I've ever met! Can I be yours? Oh please tell me I can!"

Vachon choked on a laugh. Looking at Tracy he realised how much she'd come to mean to him. It had been rough there for a bit, right after she'd found out he'd lied to her about Knight, and God knows he'd done more grovelling in the past four weeks than in the past four centuries. But Tracy had eventually stopped coating the inside of his boxer shorts with garlic salt and, out of the kindness of her heart, forgiven him. Though as he watched her fawn over Screed, (the two of them were now plotting the course of the honeymoon cruise they were to take, apparently they were going everywhere but Spain, because both swore they didn't care for the people,) he realised he might still have some grovelling to do. "You done yet?"

Tracy pretended to be startled. She looked at him, then put her hand to her forehead in a manner that had fallen out of fashion everywhere but in the corniest of melodramas. "Oh my goodness! It's Vachon!"

"Oh your goodness is right," Vachon snorted, watching Screed and Tracy exchange overly distraught looks.

Suddenly Screed leapt to his feet and, grabbing a nearby plastic light sabre, he challenged him. "En guard ya swine!"

The hammock, set swinging wildly by Screed's grand exit, dumped Tracy on the cement floor, Vachon winced, but Tracy was quickly on her feet... and pressed to Screed's side. "No! Don't fight him my love! He's a sneaky low life and will probably fight unfairly!"

Vachon's lips twitched, he made a mental note never to lie to Tracy again. He might be able to take her cold shoulder and the wrath of her practical jokes, but there was no way he could withstand her dinner theatre! He grabbed a strip of what looked like lattice leaning against a nearby grate and raised his 'sword.' "Too late to back down sir!" He paused to twirl an imaginary moustache, "The challenge has been made, I will have your woman!"

Tracy gasped in mock horror, "Oh no! I'll never be yours, you cursed baboon!"

Screed chuckled, "Worry nah me beloved, I shall skewer 'im good, then we can get on ta livin' 'appily ev'r afta."

"In Vegas?" Tracy clarified through sniffled 'Boo-hoos.'

Screed cracked, laughing he nodded, "Yeah, in Vegas." He turned on Vachon, "Now, en gaurd ya cur!"

Soon the two men were duelling fiercely across the room and back again, exchanging insults the entire way.

"She will be mine you bald headed cretin!" Vachon jabbed.

"Ya are nah worthy o' one so fair as Baby-Jane!" Screed parried.

"And you are?!" Vachon lunged.

" 'Ell yeah!" Screed deflected, and threw a kiss at Tracy, who sighed happily.

Vachon gave a cry of mock outrage, "I will have her!" He lunged again, only to have Screed plunge his collapsible sword straight into his heart.

"Oh! (cough) I am (wheeze) I am slain!" Vachon sank gracefully to the floor, if only the Academy could have seen it his death scene would have won an Oscar for sure!

But instead of rushing to his side and professing her undying love, Tracy gave a high pitched, "Yippee!" And raced to Screed's side, being careful to step right on Vachon's belly on the way into her hero's arms.

"Hey!' Vachon opened his eyes and watched Screed and Tracy's 'happy dance,' (something close to ring-around-the-rosy from the looks of it.) "What? You aren't going to forgive me on my death bed?!"

"Nope," Tracy smiled cheekily and stuck out her tongue.

Vachon growled, flew across the room, and swept her out of Screed's arms, "Tell me you forgive me!" He demanded with a laugh.

"Never!" Tracy declared dramatically.

"Then you leave me no choice," He told her solemnly.

"What are you going to do?" Tracy taunted, "Bite me?"

"No, worse," He told her, his wiggling fingers slipped to her ribs.

"Ack! No fair!" A peal of laughter escaped her as the vampire mercilessly tickled her. "Stop it!"

"Not until you forgive me!" Vachon said, trying to keep hold of her as she doubled over and squirmed.

"I said never!" Tracy yelped, she looked at Screed for help, but the carouche was just watching the proceedings with a huge grin. "Vachon!"

"Say it!" Vachon grinned, moving to her belly.

"All right! All right!" Tracy cried.

He released her immediately and watched as she tried to catch her breath and regain her composure. He smiled, but she just glared at him. "So?"

"So..." Tracy sighed. "I forgive you."

Vachon grinned in triumph.

"Screed and I will send you an invitation to the wedding after all," Tracy told him with a grin, then darted out the door and ran laughing down the tunnel and up the steps.

"This isn't over Tracy!" Vachon yelled after her, he looked back at Screed, who was trying vainly to smother his laughter at the sour look that had passed over his friend's face.

"Women!" Vachon shrugged, "You die for them and they mock you!"

"Yep, tha' seems ta be their way," Screed nodded, "Especilicky tha one."

"Hurmph," Vachon walked over and scooped up the jacket Tracy had dropped earlier, bringing it to his nose and taking a good whiff of apricots and calla lilies.

"So we can keeps 'er, right?" Screed asked eagerly.

"You want me to put up with that for eternity?!"

Screed just grinned, his eyes twinkling merrily.

Vachon shook his head and smiled, "She's a bad influence on you, you know." He tucked the jacket under his arm and started out the door after her. "See ya sailor."

END