Disclaimer: Mick and Beth do not belong to me.

Challenge fic: prompt word BLOOD

Mick's one of the good guys. Hell, I'm a reporter - I've seen people at their best and worst, and I'm not some wannabe goth girl going orgasmic at the idea of vampires.
So it's doesn't freak me out anymore when I catch him licking the blood of my razor when I cut my leg shaving, or pouring him a glass of A negative when I'm uncorking the chardonnay.
He kisses my neck a lot - no fangs though, that's his rule not mine, and I kiss his too. His skin is cool and I wonder what his blood is like.
A little taste of forever.
One day when I look in the mirror and see wrinkles starting to form and my body softening I know that I'll ask him. And I know he won't refuse me.
He'll drain me dry, open a vein , the blood will run down my throat and I'll be a forever girl. Sleeping in a refrigerator and burning bright when the moon rises.
Not noble, not ethical, but I'm no saint, and for all my protests there are only two options - leave him or join him, and the first option hurts to much to think about.
But until then we'll dodge the issue, and I'll pretend not to notice that his fingers trace the bite mark on my wrist every time he takes my hand