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The Prank War
Really, Chase hadn't meant to plant a camera in Krista's shower. She had just been stopping by to ask if Krista wanted to watch the season finale of Dallas with her (Chase was really, really behind on her television) and Krista had happened to not be in, so really, whose fault was it that Chase had taken it upon herself to make sure there weren't any vampire slayers lurking in Krista's room? And maybe she had an ulterior motive in seeing what exactly Krista's bed did look like, seeing as you could tell so much about someone from whether they made their bed or not, and especially what she kept under the mattress.
As it turned out (and this was key to the dissatisfaction that led to Chase planting the camera in the first place, so pay attention), Krista kept issues of Vanity Fair and Vogue there. Not even particularly naughty ones. The implication was clear: Krista still dreamed of being glamorous and human and part of that world. It was almost overpoweringly boring and really a little offensive. After all the effort Chase had put into making her feel welcome, while Marcus was out gallivanting around with really idiotic schemes to kill Purebloods, and Krista still put more value into having a suntan than in their friendship (that's how Chase thought of it). Really. Chase threw the magazines back under Krista's bed and headed straight to the shower.
Not that Krista had ever thanked her, but she'd insisted on letting her have the room with the massaging showerhead (the extra-phallic one), so it was only right that she got some entertainment out of it. She planted the spy-camera in a small nook (she just happened to have one on her. A spy-camera, not a nook) and went about her business, humming as she went.
After all she'd done for Krista, a little nudity was owed her. It was practically contractible.
Not that she'd expected to see Krista inject herself with some strange thing. That just confirmed her opinion of Tank Girl's bitchiness. Everyone knew that if you had some good drugs, you shared them. Chase had never offered Krista a hit off her blood-bong (it was amazing the things you could use a skull for, other than keeping a brain in. Not even that, in Marcus's case) because she'd thought Miss "There's no such thing as 'casual' nudity" was too much of a prude but apparently someone had been holding out on her.
Well, she'd fix that.
Krista wouldn't know Chase had added a number of high-grade amphetamines to her serum until she went into withdrawal. By contrast, Chase knew from the moment she saw it on her shower-cam (it was getting a bit addictive, that thing. Krista had the most darling singing voice and a taste for Stan Bush music. These were not the kinds of things you learned by not spying on someone in the shower). So she ran (in a somewhat undignified way) to be the first one Krista met. This was easy, as their rooms were next to each other. Krista, dressed haphazardly and still wet from her shower, caught a blur of motion as Chase vaulted out of her own door and slammed it shut.
"Krista! How are you feeling?" Chase asked solicitously, although with that curled smile she only got when she knew she was talking to someone who had just taken a hit of orgasm drug.
"Super!" Krista answered. She made a look like she was suspicious of herself for being anything other than full of angst, but then she noticed Chase's top. "Chase! You have such great boobs!"
"You should wear slutty outfits all the time!"
"I do! Wait, slutty?"
Krista was already moving on and Chase eponymously went after her, pausing to allow Krista to compliment Sabine ("Your teeth are so sparkly! You must brush every day!"), then grabbing Krista by her hair. That yanked her to a stop.
"Oww! Chase! Not my hair! I brush it so it's pretty!" She turned around, beaming. "What's the matter, Chase? Do you need a hug?"
"No, I " Chase really had no idea why she had intercepted Krista. Perhaps to spare her the embarrassment of trying to cheer up every vampire in the enclave. Or because high-on-amphetamines Krista was much better company than gloomy-gus Krista and she wanted to enjoy the company while she could. Before she could figure it out, Krista was hugging her.
"You're just too precious!" Krista said, squeezing the air out of Chase's lungs. "And your hair smells nice."
"Thank you," Chase squeaked out.
Krista moved her lips right next to Chase's ear. "Did you notice our boobs are touching?" She squeezed Chase's ass. "Boop!"
Then, horrified, Krista backed away. "Ohmigod, I touched your butt!"
"Yes, you did," Chase replied, filing away the useful information that high-on-amphetamines Krista was much more lesbian than gloomy-gus Krista (or, at least, more obvious about it).
"Okay, you're gonna have to touch my butt back. So we're even."
Krista presented her back to Chase and bent over slightly, thrusting her ass at Krista. "C'mon. Touch that thing. You know you want to."
Cringing and realizing that fondling someone while they were under the influence was somewhat tactless, Chase declined.
"Come ooooon! You have to touch it or we won't be even! Just give it a good whack and we're done."
"Let's just get it out of the way. Here." Krista mooned Chase. Brown panties. Had she no style? "Smack that thing. Do it! Do it!"
Just at that very moment, Marcus walked in. Chase looked up at him, horrified. It was one thing to get Krista high on amphetamines. It was another to do it in front of the boss.
"Marcus, make Chase touch my butt!" Krista whined.
Four hours later, Chase had explained the whole thing to Marcus (it didn't take all four hours, but with all the "ummm"s and "errr"s it was a near thing) and Krista was detoxing. Chase walked in, very quietly holding a tea tray.
"I brought you some blood. Filipino. Freshly squeezed!"
"You really think I'm going to drink anything you give me? You could've killed me, putting drugs in my " Krista looked up sharply. "How'd you even know about that, anyway?"
"First of all, how can I kill you, you're undead! Secondly, I knew because of the spy-camera I planted in your shower," Chase said, as if knowledge of spy-camera placement was something every second-grader should know.
"You planted a camera in my shower?" Krista stood up, moving her arms as if Chase had suddenly developed X-ray vision and her hands were made out of lead.
"If you had slipped in the shower and cracked your head open and I had saved you, you'd be thanking me," Chase pointed out.
"Crazy like a fox!" she shot back, plopping onto the futon next to Krista and shoving herself into the brunette's lap. "It was just a joke. Friends?"
"Friends! We were never friends!"
"You're just saying that because you're angry."
"No, I'm saying it because I hate you and everything you stand for."
"But but " Chase frantically tried to look for a loop in that statement. "I support saving the rainforest!"
As it so happens, Chase had had her eye on one of the interns for quite some time. He was a Familiar, but thankfully not one of those horrid ones who could quote Anne Rice at length. No, he was one of those nice, respectable ones who saw vampirism as planning for their future and would happily become blood-sucking investment bankers for the remainder of their unlives. None of which Chase could care less about, but (as she remarked to Krista in one of their girl-talks, as Chase called them, or big wastes of time, as Krista called them) he was freaking hot.
Krista, remembering that Chase was planning to ask out (read: tell) the intern later that week, came up with a fool-proof revenge. Every evening, she ordered a pizza for the interns with extra garlic bread. She treated the intern in question, Mark, to a fancy dinner that featured garlic as the chief ingredient. In short, she did everything short of injecting garlic directly into his veins, and that she dismissed as impractical.
"You thucking thitch!" Chase swore, her lips swollen to 2.4 Angelina Jolies by exposure to garlic. "Hith themen wath full of garlicth!"
"Maybe you just have bad taste in men," Krista quipped. "Wait a minute 'themen'?"
"Blood!" Chase hurriedly corrected herself. "You're going to pay for thith!"
Krista took careful aim at the incoming vampire. "Eat silver-tipped death, fangs!" she yelled, still having aftereffects from the amphetamines. She pulled the trigger, causing red to spurt out all over the vampire's chest. Red paintballs.
"Chase!" she growled.
"Oh, I'm sorry " Chase put a coquettish finger to her lips, "did I accidentally switch your gun with my paintball gun? Whoopsie-daisy!"
"I could have been killed!" Krista groused loudly at Marcus, who was very calmly massaging his temples. Good help was so hard to find these days
"I wouldn't have let anything happen to her. I just wanted to put a little scare in her to get back at her for the semen incident."
"Semen?" Marcus repeated.
"Alright, this has gone on far enough. You're both due on an important mission to Paris."
"Paris, France?" Chase squealed excitedly. "The City of Lights? The City of Romance? The City of "
"Get on the plane."
Secretly, Chase hated to fly. As a girl, she had always been told that vampires could turn into bats or mist or just go up, up, and away like Superman. Finding out that they couldn't do any of that, nor turn into a wolf, had been very disappointing. Then the Wright brothers had invented airplanes and no matter how far they came, Chase couldn't get used to them. She much preferred zeppelins, which were quieter and couldn't crash. But the humans, stupid cattle that they were, had settled on jet liners as a preferred method of transportation and now she was in Marcus' private jet, heavy curtains over all the windows, and seats that could thankfully be sat in. To Krista, who had only ridden coat and in military hoppers, seats that could be sat in were a revelation.
"Enjoying yourself?" Chase asked.
"Well, good, because we could crash and die and then where would you be?"
"Dead. Just like you, I suppose."
Chase hated when she couldn't come up with a good get. Checking her watch, she ascertained that it was night time out. For lack of anything better to do, she opened the curtain and looked out at the night world. Like an owl searching for prey, her eyes brightened the darkness into day and zoomed in on the contours of the land. She thought of inviting Krista to share the view. It was one of the many perks of being a vampire and one of the few perks of flying (and you could do the same in a zeppelin, so there), so why not let Krista know? Because fuck her, that's why.
Flying over the Heartland was a profoundly boring experience. It was a shame heavier-than-air travel had been invented too late to capture, say, a city being put to the torch or a literal river of blood. Now that would've been worth saving. Instead, there was just miles and miles of farmland. Cornfields. Highways. It was all so tiring.
Yawning, Chase took the precaution of closing the curtain and shut off the lights on her side of the plane. She glanced over at Krista, just to make sure the brunette wouldn't try to get back at her while she was asleep. No, G.I. Jane was fast asleep herself. Not that she had many good ideas, but that was one Chase could follow. Picking up a pillow and blanket from under her seat, she tilted her chair back and settled in to sleep her way to the airport.
Krista's eyes popped open. Chase was snoring lightly, a thin line of drool dripping down her cheek. If only the uber-poised bleach blonde could know how very Kevin Federline she looked while she slept. Not that she would get the reference; Chase was so far behind on pop culture that she was constantly calling in requests for Flight of Seagulls to local radio stations.
Revenge. Despite what countless movies, TV shows, and Greek tragedies had told her, Krista had found that revenge was actually pretty cool. Certainly, she never tired of foiling one of Marcus' plots from the inside or killing a vampire. Pranking Chase wasn't exactly the same, but she liked to think that her brother would approve. Now she just needed someone to obtain maximum humiliation with. Scooping out her camera-phone, she took a photo of Chase's sleeping visage. Not good enough. She moved in to take a closer picture, managing to overhear as Chase muttered something sexual about the New Kids on the Block. Krista supposed that when you were a vampire, it was easy to forget that some people do not age well.
Hmmmm. Chase's overactive libido was always good for a laugh. Krista set her camera-phone to record and wedged it between the two seats ahead of them. Then, oozing herself into the seat next to Chase, she said as softly as she could "Chase."
"Mmm?" Chase asked, mostly asleep.
"So what do you think of Krista?"
"Annoying." Chase turned over in her sleep, facing away from Krista. Undaunted, Krista moved in closer and peeled the hair away from Chase's ear.
"I mean sexually."
Chase considered it, made a meh face. "Could stand to lose a few pounds."
Krista strongly considered throwing Chase out the plane. But really, the only negative of that experience was the big splat at the end and Krista wanted something more damaging.
"So," she said, hopefully to Chase's subconscious, "you're telling me that if Krista showed up at your bed, dressed in the sluttiest lingerie imaginable, you'd kick her out?"
Chase smiled at the thought. To her, the sluttiest lingerie imaginable involved bags of plasma, which gave whole new meaning to the term 'edible underwear.' "I'd eat that up with a spoon."
God. Even asleep Chase was an easy lay. "Tell me how you'd do it," Krista said, slowly pulling the blanket away from Chase's heaving chest and rubbing legs.
Chase's smile showed fang as she fulfilled the instruction. "I'd slap her around a bit. Just to get her blood up. She's so cute when she's angry."
"I'd rub blood all over her body, inch by inch, until she was as red as the sun. Then I'd lick off every pint."
Subtly, Krista moved Chase's right hand under her panties. "You'd stop there?"
"Oh no," Chase said, grinning widely, beginning to touch herself. "I'd let her undress me. Carefully, slowly, so she could appreciate every bit of me. Not that she would, ungracious bitch, but fuck her. She'd like it. Then I'd ohh then I'd sit on her chest. Let her nibble on my thighs a little. Just a little, to get her blood up. I wouldn't let her sink her teeth in."
"Uh-huh," Krista said, moving Chase's left hand to her bra. She wondered if this counted as sex, her helping Chase masturbate. No, probably not. Definitely not. Certainly not. Because that would be wrong.
"Then I'd let her eat me out. And if she didn't do a good job, I'd pinch her nipples. Make her squeal and beg for it like the little bitch she is. Then, when we're both full of bloodlust, we'd drink from each other, all night, touching each other, letting our blood mingle until we oh God, oh my God, yes, yes!"
Krista watched with perverse fascination as Chase's hand moved faster under her panties, her other hand roughly kneading her breast. Her face was flushed, her eyes rapidly moving beneath her closed lids.
"You'd rub your bodies together," Krista prompted, "getting closer and closer together, feeling the heat between you get warmer and warmer, building to a climax "
"Fluids running down your legs, over your breasts "
"OH GOD, YES!"
"Just when you thought you couldn't take any more--"
Chase's eyes shot open like a curtain suddenly being rolled-up. Not certain what had just happened, not certain of anything except that she had been enjoying herself and suddenly was NOT, she looked frantically around the cabin. And settled finally on Krista putting her camera-phone away.
"You whore," Chase said, mustering as much dignity as possible as she wiped her wet fingers off on a seat cushion.
"That's hardly a fair way to refer to your wet dream lover," Krista said smugly.
"Okay, maybe it was out of line to post the video on YouTube," Krista said when pressed on the point by Marcus, who had secretly added the file to his favorites (right next to that video of the cute Jewish mutant kissing that weird dominatrix who dressed all in white). "But c'mon, she started it."
"I don't care who started it! You're my two best operatives. If you can't find a way to work this out, then my plan to poison the purebloods with anthrax humdingers is doomed to failure. Do you want that on your conscience?"
"Maybe Marcus has a point," Chase said as she walked out of his office with Krista. "Truce?"
"If I thought for one second you'd honor it and now that we're even "
"EVEN? You made me masturbate while thinking about you!"
"And posted it on the Internet," Krista reminded her.
"Tell you what. I'll buy you dinner. How's that sound?"
It was a trap, of course. But Krista knew it was a trap, so she could at least be prepared for it. That beat looking over her shoulder for however long it would take Chase to put together a different revenge.
"Fine. Pick me up at eight."
"New message from Krista!" Shen announced, taking a break from playing Solitaire, which was his break from working on a new weapon for Blade.
"What's it say?" Blade growled, stalking over to Shen's computer.
"The usual. Marcus has hatched another overly-elaborate and idiotic plot to destroy the purebloods, Sabine got a haircut, and she's going on a date with Chase."
Blade blinked. "Read me that last part again."
Aside from getting off her message to Blade, Krista didn't have anything to do other than to wait for Chase to pick her up. Of course, anything she might do could just be Part 1 of Chase's plan to get back at her. So she read the Necronomicon (it was a really disappointing read) until eight rolled around, the hour marked by Chase's rapping at her door. Fixing her place with a finger between the pages, she opened the door.
Chase was standing there, dressed demurely in black with an understated (for her) mink boa over the shoulder pads of her coat and one of those hats with the little black lattice veils over the top half of her face. The skirt was cut low, just about mid-range on her thighs, but it was Chase. And she was showing a little less cleavage than usual, which was her way of dressing classy. And she had a bouquet of flowers gripped in one hand; easily the most colorful things on her.
"These are for you," she said, holding the flowers out to Krista. As if she were accepting a flask of toxic waste, Krista accepted them and shuffled as quickly as she could to the kitchen to put them in water. Then she washed her hands thoroughly. When she got back, Chase was still standing in the doorway, her painted fingernails now wrapped around the string of her white leather purse.
"So," Chase continued, offering her arm, "shall we?"
Krista had, for possibly the first and only time in her life, no idea how to proceed. Chase really expect her to take her arm like they were what? Dating? Krista was sorely tempted to slam the door in her face, but suppose the flowers had some sort of bomb in them and suppose Chase had some sort of remote detonator in that cute little purse of hers. Oh no, Krista was too smart for that old trick.
"We shall," Krista said, stepping past Chase towards the elevator, not taking her arm. Chase checked out Krista's look from behind, grinned wolfishly, and shut the door to Krista's room.
Krista began running through theories for what she was experiencing much as a TWOP poster might theorize about Lost. She was being served an appetizer at a vampire-catering steakhouse. And she was doing it with Chase, who was taking great relish in both eating her shrimp and eating her shrimp in a way that made Krista think very vividly about the visual correlation between shrimp and certain female erogenous zones. Wondering if she had slipped into the Twilight Zone, Krista dipped a steak fry in ketchup and ate it.
"Trade you?" Chase offered. Before Krista could agree, Chase was already reaching between them to steal one of Krista's fries. She ate it and made a face as if she had just tasted ambrosia. "Now here, have one of mine." She held out a shrimp to Krista. "Just one bite and you'll never need a man."
Poison. Really, it must be poisoned, somehow. But Chase had been eating them too, so that wasn't likely. Unless Chase just had an immunity to whatever poison she was going to be given. Trying not to think about that, Krista reached out to take the shrimp from Chase. Chase immediately snatched it back and Krista was confused for a moment before getting the gist.
Well, fine. Two could play at that game. Krista defiantly lowered her hand and shot Chase with her most sultry glare. Chase responded with her own set of bedroom eyes and dipped the shrimp in cocktail sauce in a manner that was nothing short of pornographic. Then, she again extended the shrimp towards Krista. A glob of cocktail sauce dripped off the shrimp and slammed into the tabletop between them. Krista leaned forward, letting Chase take a good look down her shirt, and sunk her teeth into the shrimp. Chase pulled the tail away, her smile positively demonic.
"Good, isn't it?" she said with a verbal afterglow.
"Orgasmic," Krista replied, smacking her lips.
The waiter came to take their order. Krista ordered a salad, Chase ordered a steak; raw. Her stomach still grumbling after she had demolished the lettuce, Krista could only submit when Chase held out a single perfect square of steak impaled on a fork, pink as a ballet dancer and inundated with blood. Chase seemed to get more pleasure in watching Krista eat than in eating herself, and fed Krista two bites for every one they took. Between the two of them, the steak was gone in no time, leaving a plate stained with the broth of their feast. Chase didn't hesitate in ordering them another one, along with two sundaes for desert. They ate each others' cherries, arms entwined around the other's at the elbow like newlyweds.
"I had a great time tonight," Chase said as she walked Krista back to her room.
Absolutely nothing untoward had happened to Krista. Obviously, the entire date (as Krista had come to think of it) was a ploy to get Krista out of her room while some of Chase's associates wrecked some horrible revenge. Krista was rightly smug at figuring this out and was determined not to give Chase the satisfaction of being aghast, no matter what state her room was in.
"Me too," Krista said, as she opened her door and braced herself for the worst.
Her room was absolutely routine.
"Good night," Chase said, just before she pecked Krista on the cheek and walked away.
"What the hell?" Krista asked herself, before guessing that there was some horrible poison in Chase's lipstick. She was wrong.
Although Krista didn't get any sleep after arranging to send a sample of both the flowers and the lipstick (Chase had left a lipprint right on her cheek, gross) to Shen, she was nonetheless ready bright and early for Marcus' daily meeting. Vampires, fortunately, needed a great deal less sleep than humans.
"I would be remiss in not telling everyone that I'm disappointed in the failure of Plan Humdinger," Marcus said dolefully. "Although the humdingers were indeed presented and poisoned, apparently none of the purebloods cared for humdingers. These are flaws that need to be ironed out in the planning stages, people! If we had planted the poison in another food item, this plan would have sold like something that sells really well!"
"Hotcakes?" Chase volunteered.
"Exactly! Next time, we put the poison in the hotcakes! Does anyone have a good hotcake recipe?"
Krista walked into the meeting, determined to give as good as she got. She didn't know how, but she got the feeling that last night's date was a draw if not a defeat. Well, she'd show Chase a thing or two.
"Morning, babe," she said, bending down to kiss Chase on the top of her little bleached head. Furthermore, Krista sat down next to her and squeezed her hand. In response to this, Chase merely flashed her a darling smile and leaned over to whisper in her ear. What she said was illegal in all but eleven states, and there it was frowned upon, but Krista dutifully giggled. She was going to be the best girlfriend ever, even if it killed her.
"Enjoying the movie?" Krista asked. Chase was on the edge of her seat, absently shoveling popcorn into her mouth, absorbed in whether or not Luke and Han would destroy the Death Star (she was really behind on cinema as well).
Krista allowed Chase to squeeze her hand during all the tense parts and even got up to refill Chase's popcorn, twice.
Best. Girlfriend. Ever. Krista reminded herself of this time and time again.
Krista wasn't sure what possible prank Chase could pull by making-out with her in the back row, but like hell she would give Chase the satisfaction of being a prude.
Krista had begun to worry a little that Chase had pulled one over her around the third or fourth orgasm, right when Chase volunteered the idea of using the sheets as makeshift bondage gear, but she was going to get to the bottom of Chase's prank no matter what happened. Gripping a small combat knife in her fist just in case she had to cut herself free, she let Chase tie her to the bedposts. She was going to see this prank through to the end if it killed her.
Sex was nice too, anyway.
It was right around the time Chase went on a mission in Europe and left behind a stuffed teddy bear saying "I'll Miss You Beary Much" that Krista began to suspect the awful truth.
"I got you!" she cried triumphantly upon Chase's return. "You totally fell in love with me and it wasn't a prank! HA!"
"Of course it wasn't a prank," Chase said sadly. "I love you."
"Oh." Krista felt about ten inches tall. "Same here," she said, realizing that perhaps she had had an ulterior motive in going along with Chase's prank that wasn't really a prank. "But wait, what was the prank you pulled on me? There had to be one."
Chase shrugged. "I keyed your car."
And they lived happily ever after (once Krista thought up a way to get back at Chase).
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