Author's Note: This has been in brain for just a bit, so I thought I'd get it out. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it, because that would make me smile. Anyway, whatever your thoughts, just let me know.


Godric could feel the sun coming as he stood on the roof of the hotel, watching the people pass below. He remembered a time when—in his youth—all humans had looked the same to him. They walked the same, sounded the same, smelled disgusting. But those years were gone. Now he realized that they were all so very different. Some of them were leaders, others were followers, but each human being was unique.

Even from this height, when people all looked like ants to him, he could see the distinctions. There was a man who didn't walk, he swaggered. There was a woman seemed incapable of strolling. Instead, she walked with her head up, her stride purposeful, as though she had no fear. It seemed a shame to leave the world, but he was so tired...

But when he looked at those ants, those little people below him, he had hope. He felt a little less tired, a little more optimistic. Those people weren't afraid of the dark. They may have been afraid of the things that went bump in the night, but it didn't stop them going out. That showed courage, and that courage made him smile.

His smile fled, however, when he watched the swaggering man push the woman to the ground, as he reached inside his jacket and produced a gun. Thinking that perhaps he had one last act of goodness to do before he left the world, he leapt from the roof onto a lower building, and the onto the street. However, by the time he got there, the young woman was standing over the man, his gun in her hand.

"I should shoot you. I could get away with it. After all, it is self-defense. But I won't…Just be careful. The next girl might not be so nice. And the police are less likely to give community service to a second time offender," she said to him, though her voice was anything but nice. She turned to walk away, leaving him lying on the pavement, wide-eyed and afraid, but stopped and turned back to face him. Calmly, as if she did it every day, she kicked him in the side of the head and he promptly lost consciousness. She fished her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the police.

Godric stood in the shadow of the building, safe from the sun's fiery rays, watching her. She was tiny—shorter than he was—and slender. Her hair appeared the color of flames with the sun shining on it, and it almost seemed a shame that it was pulled up. He could see a tattoo Celtic knot tattooed on the back of her neck, the lines delicate and flowing. He wouldn't have associated the word delicate with this human, despite her tiny stature and the fact that he knew how fragile humans really were. There was a strength about her that was written in the determined set of her jaw, and the bold way she stared out at the world.

He couldn't help but smile, finding the woman's treatment of the man humorous. But there was something else there. She wasn't lying when she said she could kill him. He had been around for well over three millennia, and he knew the look. The look of someone who was prepared to kill, and she had it. But she checked herself, instead opting for mercy—albeit a very painful mercy. That gave him hope. "Yes, I believe I'll stay awhile longer," he said calmly. "It seems this world still holds something for me."

She hung up the phone and turned towards where he was standing. She was startled as she noticed him, and he saw the flash of recognition in her eyes. "You…where did you come from?" she asked, more curious than anything else. She was standing in the very edge of the shadow that the building cast, and didn't take a step towards the sunlight.

He saw no point in lying; she already knew what he was. "The roof."

She nodded, her face blank. "Right. The roof. I'm assuming you didn't take the stairs from the roof."

"No. I jumped."

She nodded again, unsure just what exactly he was doing there, and how exactly she was supposed to act. "I guess being a vampire, you can do things like that. Who needs bungee cords when you can just heal right up?"

"I saw that he was attacking you. I meant to help, but you had things well in hand by the time I arrived," he explained.

"That's probably a good thing. Otherwise, you'd be fried crispy. Speaking of which…don't you need to be inside?"

"I'm safe in the shadow for now. I thought I would stay until the police arrived."

"That won't be necessary," she said quickly. "They'll need a statement from you, and that means going to the station, which could be pretty problematic given the whole daylight thing. Plus…the cops around here aren't always the friendliest when it comes to vampires. Fellowship of the Sun influence, and all that."

His smile widened. "Are you concerned for my safety?"

"I'm sure you can handle yourself, but dealing with cops can be a pain in the as—it can be inconvenient. Besides, sun won't stay behind that building forever."

"I'll have plenty of time to move," he replied, taking several steps forward. Her eyes widened as she took note of the tattoos across his arms and chest. "I'm Godric."

She closed the distance between then and offered him her hand. "Moira Ahern." Her handshake was strong and firm, and she looked him in the eye, completely unafraid of him. When he was younger, that was part of what made him so dangerous. But then, she realized that. She knew he was dangerous, and was taking the risk anyway. "Nice to meet you."

"It's a shame the circumstances aren't more pleasant."

"Yeah…it is. You should go. You don't need to be involved in this unpleasantness," she said, though not without a hint of regret.

"Perhaps we shall meet again?" he said. She smiled at him and nodded.

"Yeah, maybe."

He pushed open the door and headed for Eric's room, contemplating along the way. He had seen so many contradictions in this world, and in the most interesting places. In young women who had no fear and an open mind. How was it that someone so young could be prepared to kill, but still have no fear? In all his years of living, he had never known a human that knew what he was and did not fear him. She was the first. Even now, it seems, he could still be surprised.

He raised his hand to knock on Eric's door, but hadn't touched it before it was wide open. Eric stood in the doorway, though he didn't own the space as he usually would. Instead, he was slouched, his shoulders sagging. There were red blood stains trailing down his cheeks, signs of his grief blatantly obvious. Upon seeing Godric, he froze.

"We have some things to discuss," Godric said calmly. Eric nodded and closed the door behind them. "I'm tired of politics, Eric. It's too cynical for my taste."

"Come back with me. To Shreveport." Eric's response was almost immediate. "I'm sheriff of my Area, but—"

"I can be there without being involved. It won't be a problem."

"My business won't be to your liking—"

"You're making a living doing what you want to do. I'm not judging you," Godric answered, studying his son. The sense of peace he felt at the idea of release from this life still hadn't faded, and he had every intention of carrying that peace over into the rest of his life, however long that may be.

"You'll stay?"

"I don't know how long I'll stay. There are still places in this world that I want to see. People to meet—"

"You'll meet plenty of them at the bar," Eric answered, not sounding entirely enthused. Thoughts of humans wanting to touch him and snap pictures of him were running through his mind, annoying him. Godric—being infinitely more patient—probably wouldn't mind.

"You say that as if it were a bad thing. Humans still have very much to offer this world."

"They invented True Blood, let vampires reveal their existence to the world. I'm still not entirely sure why that's considered a good thing. Life before then wasn't bad. I quite enjoyed it."

"You're too jaded to be so young. Of course, young is relative. When you're my age, everyone seems young," Godric said, laughing at himself and at his offspring, though it was not cruel laughter.

Eric was silent for a long time before he spoke. "Why did you decide to stay?"

"As I said, there is hope for the world. It seems that humans still have the ability to surprise me, even after all these years." Eric, the king of deadpan, widened his eyes in surprise. He had stopped being surprised by humanity a long time ago, and he was less than half his maker's age. But then, Godric had always possessed something that he hadn't. Godric had always maintained something of that belief in innocence, despite the atrocities that he had seen and committed. He somehow found it in himself to believe in forgiveness and second chances—something Eric had given up centuries ago.

"In the span of a minute, humanity surprised you?"

Fondness spread across Godric's face as he recalled Moira Ahern, with her fearlessness and tentative smile. "A young woman, Moira Ahern. She showed mercy to a man that would have attacked her. She checked her impulse to take his life, though I daresay he will be feeling the aftereffects come later today." Eric didn't say anything—just arched an eyebrow—obviously unimpressed.

"As soon as she saw me, she knew what I was, and was completely unafraid. She stayed in the shadows to speak with me. She shook my hand and met my gaze without a trace of fear. How is that? In all the years I've been alive, Eric, that has never happened to me. How is it that a woman of her age can have that kind of mental fortitude, and still possess wisdom and mercy?"

"I can't answer that," Eric said plainly, though he could think of someone that made him ask the exact same questions.

"Neither can I. Like I said, there are still some questions we do not know the answers to."

"No, though I would love to know."

"Perhaps it is best to accept that there are some things that even we cannot explain," Godric answered wisely.

No, Eric thought, but we can still try…


Author's Note: So, there's chapter one, and I hope you liked it. Please review. =)