War: NA: Trailer Trash (1/1) By Christy Stillman and Patt Elmore Takes place Monday, 11-8-04 evening After "Continuing to Catch Up" All participants used with their permission Patt wasn't quite prepared for Kriel returning so quickly. She was watching a line of recreational mobile homes coming onto the Shrine property when the muscular vampire moved silently into position behind her. "Here's the list," Kriel growled, thrusting a chart at the startled NunkWrangler. "And," he shoved a sheaf of blue papers at Patt, "here's a list of the rules. Make sure your people each get a copy and follow them." Patt looked at the chart, and pretty much saw what she was expecting. Each of the new Addicts and Ala-Addicts had been paired with one of the new construction crew members, four to a trailer. Christy was assigned to bunk in Kriel's private camper; he had *affectionately* written into the margin of the chart the Hutch. Then, Patt's eyes found her own name. Her face reddened, and color spread down her chest in the best simulation of a hot flash that she could remember. She opened her mouth to yell after the vanished Kriel, only to find the newest object of her aggravation standing there, grinning at her. "Hey, Mz. Lazy-on," Sapo, the short, plump vampire grinned toothily at the NunkWrangler. "I hear we gonna be roomies." Patt balked. She frowned. She groaned. All inwardly, of course, but emotions played across her face like a kaleidoscope. Sapo grinned in delight at the Mature Addict's discomfort and rubbed his hands eagerly. "This gonna be fun . . . Sapo already can tell. You darn socks?" "No," Patt said slowly, willing herself to calmness. "And, I don't sleep in the same bed that's been occupied by a varmint." "That coming from a mole," Sapo tisked the Third Cousin, shaking a finger at her, "makes me no mind. You should be nice to Sapo, since I only other crew member who has private digs. I be big boss's first assistant now." He puffed out his chest, smiling broadly. "What a fascinatingly comforting thought," Patt replied. "Just be sure and read and follow rules," Sapo was saying, as he turned to leave. "Being roomies will be okay, 'cause I can bring you the work invoices each morning . . . bright and early." Patt watched the chubby vampire exit the Peach, her mind seething. Then, she began reading the rules. Patt's face began alternating colors again, most often settling on a nice shade of purple. Rule Number One: No eating in the trailers Rule Number Two: No fire in the trailers Rule Number Three: Don't touch the floss Rule Number Four: No wood or silver in the trailers Rule Number Five: Absolutely No marmite or ribena in the Trailers Rule Number Six: Stay out of the refrigerator and leave the blood bottles alone Rule Number Seven: No dogs in the trailers . . . unless they're edible Rule Number Eight: No hanging underwear in the bathroom, unless person is in them and person is edible Rule Number Nine: Be out by sunrise Rule Number Ten: If you're not out by sunrise, be sure and wear ketsup Patt was simmering about the demands and arrangements Kriel was inflicting on them, but, upon further reflection, she realized the rules were capable of being followed. Better just to pick a future battle and let this one go. She walked out into the evening air, where the Addicts and Ala-Addicts had gathered themselves and their luggage in anticipation of heading for local motels. "Change of plan," Patt told the assembly. "No hotels willing to take us on such short notice. But," she pointed toward the circle of trailers, which looked a whole lot like a bunch of wagons waiting for the Native's to attack, "the construction crew has generously offered to allow us to bunk with them, alternately of course, during the reconstruction project." The reactions of the crowd were mixed. Some cried, some shouted in anger and shook fists, one launched a rotten fruit at Patt, which she handily caught and tossed into a nearby trash bin. "Read Rule One," she reminded them. "And, remember guys . . . it's just for one week. Then, we'll have our Shrine back: brand new, clean and ready for occupation. Just think about the canal, the balconies, the terraces, the roof garden . . . time will pass so quickly that you won't even notice where you're staying." "They don't sleep in coffins, or hang from the ceiling, do they?" Shelly whispered to Paul. "We will have beds, won't we?" Paul shrugged. "I have a really bad feeling that these vampires don't share Nunkies' taste for silk sheets," Alyce commented to Katherine. "I sense really dingy cotton in our futures." "Four to a trailer?" Rob looked up from the chart, absolutely mortified. "I haven't slept with a guy in twenty-years, except for K . . .." The others looked at the man expectantly. Rob pursed his lips and stopped. "Never mind." He grabbed his now reclaimed belongings and stalked toward his assigned trailer. "This sucks," Beverley said, hefting her bag onto her shoulder. "Only if you're not out by sunrise," Patt reminded them. "Good night, ladies and gents. I'll see you all at dawn." The NunkWranger had no luggage, so she simply walked over to Sapo's trailer and hoisted herself up the narrow steps. She looked around at the tiny living space, sat down on the lumpy bed, put her head into her hands and thought about crying. No such relief. Someone was rapping loudly at her trailer door, and, Patt assumed from the force of the knocking, that person was really, really ticked off. "Come in Christy," Patt called. Christy shoved the roster beneath Patt's nose. "You LET him do this?" she shouted at the Mature Addict. "You actually LET him put me in his trailer?" Slapping the paper out of her face, Patt glared up at the Floridian. "How much choice did I have in the matter, Christy? At least he's promised that you'll have the best one of the bunch, since it's his. How would you like to be cramped up in THIS place with Sapo?" She gestured around her at the miniscule quarters. "Or perhaps you would have preferred the tents?" Christy plopped down beside Patt on the small bed, sighed and rubbed her temples. "All right. You did the best you could for the faction. But, damn...to have to hear someone call me "Love Bunny" for a week...." She shuddered at the thought. Patt suppressed a wicked grin, since her second-in-command had a clear view of her face. "Hey, kiddo, look at it this way...it's only a week." "Unless we get past that two-week deadline without coming up with the money to pay him. Once the war's done and we're out of that protective "no permanent damage" clause, he's got us." The Nunketeer looked at Patt speculatively. "Hmmm...wonder what nickname he'll come up with for YOU when you're his fledgling?" Panic flitted across Patt's face, then she replied, "LaCroix would never let that happen in any case. We're his Addicts, and he ain't about to share any of us." "I hope you're right, Patt." Christy rose. "Well, I'm beat. The war has only started, and I've already been awake over 24 hours if I have the post timeline correct so far. I'm going to bed. At least the big guy will be at work and I won't have to deal with him till morning." With Christy gone, Patt rummaged through Sapo's clothing and found a nightshirt which appeared less stained than the rest. She made her way to the trailer which had been designated as the washroom, since it was the only vehicle with water hookup. Patt slipped out of her dusty clothes and finally had that shower that Jackson had suggested several hours before. She slipped on the nightshirt and went back to the trailer, determined to get some rest. Patt nodded off with a smile. **************** Walking across the dark debris field toward the largest of the trailers, Christy stumbled and nearly fell over something that made a loud "clank." Swearing softly, she looked down at what had nearly caused her to fall on her face. At her feet were two bottles of Nunkies' private stock, amazing survivors of the catastrophic damage when the Shrine collapsed. She frowned down at them at first for getting in her way, then snatched them up with glee. Exhausted, the Nunketeer shoved open the trailer door and was met with a horrifying sight. At one end of the room in which she now stood there was a huge king sized bed. In the bed was Kriel wearing nothing but a lascivious grin and a tight pair of jeans. He was propped up on one elbow, his long red locks loose and flowing. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't a *horrifying* sight, but in Christy's present state of mind, it was definitely an unwelcome one. "Come to check out your new Hutch, my little Love Bunny?" Kriel asked, a wicked gleam in his coal black eyes. He patted the empty area of black satin comforter next to him. "I suggest we start the Grand Tour here." "Kriel, why aren't you at work?" Christy said through clenched teeth. The vampire smiled indulgently. "Not even a fledge yet, and already she's nagging." Rolling to his back and placing his hands behind his head, he displayed his rippling torso to its greatest advantage. "Can't a guy take a night off every century or so? I thought I'd just make sure you were properly...settled in." His eyes settled on the bottles clutched tightly to the woman's chest. "A little something to celebrate?" He sat up. "I knew it wasn't your blood scent, still it does smell..." he popped up in front of her, pinning her body between his and the wall, "...very tasty." Clutching the bottles even more tightly, Christy looked up at the vampire foreman. "These are not a gift," she said with a sniff. "These are a bribe. A concept with which you should be imminently familiar." Kriel smirked as he pantomimed a stake going into his chest. "Ouch," he said in a monotone. "Please stop. You're hurting my feelings." He eyed the bottles, licking his lips. "So, what're ya offering, lover?" "Well, 'lover,'" she replied sarcastically, "these bottles are to ensure my ability to sleep in. I don't DO dawn risings any more than you. I give you one now and one when I move back into the Shrine. In return, you let me sleep unmolested until I'm ready to get up." A huge forefinger lazily traced the path of her carotid artery as a sardonic smile twisted the handsome face. His head lowered. "Now why would I want to do that when I have what I want right here 'on tap?'" She smiled up at him smugly. "Because, my dear, you don't *have* what you want 'on tap.' What you have is basically a promissory note. I'm protected by LaCroix, and I'm protected by the 'no permanent damage' rule for the next two weeks. Until that time, the nectar stays in the container, baby." He frowned, then snatched one of the bottles. "You're an evil woman, Love Bunny. Ya know that?" With a wicked smile, she replied, "Why, Kriel. I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Deciding that staying away from work wasn't doing him any good, Kriel shrugged on a white t-shirt and put on his steel-toed shoes. "See you in the morning, my little Love Bunny," he said with a smirk and started heading out the door. "Oh, Kriel," Christy called him back. "Change your mind?" he said hopefully. "No, no...nothing like that. Before, you said you recognized the bottles weren't my blood scent." "Yeah, you've been around these parts long enough to know everyone has a unique scent." "Well, yes, but," the Nunketeer blushed slightly, "um...what IS my scent?" His eyes glowed amber for a moment. "Oranges, cinnamon and cloves," he replied in a low, sensuous growl. "I'll be sure to make it last when I take you, so I can savor every drop." The door banged shut behind him. "Oranges, cinnamon and cloves," Christy repeated. "Great," she said to the empty room. "Put me in a jacuzzi full of apple juice, and I'm my Mother's recipe for wassail."