Title: The Vampire Beside You

Movie: Lost Boys

Pairing: David/OC

Beta'd: VerballyInsane

Rating: T (for now)

Summary: "Out of the frying pan into the fire" is the only thing to sum up Jamie's feeling when she comes face to face with the trench coat wearing vampire. What will she do? And what's up with her brother?

Disclaimer: I do not own the Lost Boys, Bram Stoker's Dracula, Santa Cruz (aka Santa Carla), The Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, Popeye, and anything else I have not mentioned.

Please enjoy and thank you for reading. Huge thank you for Verbally Insane for editing this

"A woman so lovely and intelligent should not be walking the streets of London without her gentleman," I read from the speech bubble overhead the drawing of Dracula.

"Do I know you, sir? Are you acquainted with my husband? Shall I call the police," read the speech bubble below Mina's face.

"Husband? I shall bother you no more," said Dracula in one frame and in the next he turned away from Mina, appearing to walk away.

"Sir, it is I who has been rude. If you are looking...," uttered Mina, who was reaching out to halt him from departing.

"Please, permit me to introduce myself. I am Prince Vlad of Szekely," declared the bubble in the next frame, in which Dracula had taken off his top hat and slightly bowed to Mina. I quickly turned the page.

"A prince, no less?" said Mina.

"I am your servant," said Dracula.

"Wilhelmina Murray," introduced Mina, holding her small hand out to Dracula, in offering.

"I am honored, Madame Mina," announced Dracula as he leaned down and kissed her hand.

"To be continued in Issue 4 of 'The Horror of Dracula' – coming April 1986." I read, in disappointment, the big bold words at the bottom of the page.

I frowned, and then let out a small growl in frustration as I jumped off the floral couch, and ran up the wooden staircase. I scampered down the long hallway passed the stolen license plates that adorned the wall, and then halted in front of a door at the very end of the hallway. Hanging from the door was a sign that read: Keep Out!

I barged into my older brother's bedroom without a moments thought. The interior was dark. The shutters on the window were closed tight and blocked any light from coming inside. My older brother, Jason, was sprawled out across the carpeted floor, still in the clothes he had worn yesterday. He must have been so toasted that he couldn't even make it to his bed. Thick framed glasses sat askew on his face, and saliva was trickling from the corner of his mouth. The guy was seriously dead to the world.

"Jason. Hey, Jason it's time to wake up. It's four o'clock in the afternoon. Wakeup, Jason," I stressed, shaking his shoulder repeatedly, trying to wake him from his slumber.

He merely batted my hand away like he was swatting an annoying fly.

"JASON! WAKE UP!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

Jason's bloodshot, yellow eyes opened with a snap; his pupil's just small pricks of black. How weird, his eyes are normally green.

"Wow bro, what did you have and where can I get some?"

"What are you talking about, Jamie?" Jason groaned, as he sat up and rubbed those eerie yellow orbs.

His words were slightly slurred, but what did I expect? He was just getting in as I was getting up, which was around eight this morning. He must have still been drowsy. I pulled him up, and we stumbled towards the adjoining bathroom. I all but dragged his heavy ass inside, and pointed at the mirror above the sink.

"I'm talking about that," I affirmed, gesturing to his reflection.

Jason leaned on the sink for support and looked closely at himself in the mirror. He took his glasses off, dropping them on the green tiled floor, and ran his hand through his dark brown hair.

I remember when we were kids his hair was as red-orange as mine. Since then, his hair had darkened, mine however, is still that same bright color. It really annoys the hell out of me when I'm compared to Molly Ringwald too!

Jason's jaw clenches in anger as he glares at his reflection, a wave of tension traveling throughout his entire body.

"I'm guessing you didn't have a good night with Blondie," I inquire innocently.

About two months ago my brother asked me to help him woo the blonde haired, blue eyed Barbie doll with the sun golden tan. Jason has always been a little shy around girls, actually more like terrified of them. He was a complete geek in high school, and looked down upon by teenage girls that wanted older college guys. That was then, and now the tables are turned. Jason is going to the University of Coastal California, in Santa Carla. Now he is the one chased by the hottest girls in my high school.

Jason is actually dating the "big bitch" on campus, Stephanie Copper, or as I call her, Blondie. Stephanie is the most popular girl in school, and the only reason she and I are "friends" is because of Drama club, and the fact that I don't fall to my knees and kiss the very ground she walks on. In the past we had butted heads, but the tart can't touch me. I have a solid reputation, and a knack for knowing what someone is doing and to whom they are doing it to. Gossip is a fine weapon when it needs to be.

There is, however, a mutual respect between Stephanie and myself. Do I like her as a friend? No. Does she like me as a friend? No. We are neither friends nor enemies. Was I happy that she was dating my older brother? Not one bit. Was my brother happy with her? Sadly, yes. Those were the only reasons I put up with the match, and helped him to get her.

"No, I had a great time last night." he said as a glazed look fell over his eyes, imagining events of the night before. The small sly smile and expression of euphoria on his face said it all.

"You got laid!" I said in absolute shock.

"No I didn't." Jason insisted with a blush.

"Oh, you did." I smirked, "Well, now that I helped you get laid, you have to help me."

"…with what?" He asked with slow caution.

"I'm not asking to do what we pulled on Halloween in the third grade; I just need you to drive me to the Boardwalk. I have a date with a pair of Frogs." I explained, rolling my eyes.

The Frog brothers, Edgar and Alan Frog, are the only friends I hang out with outside of school. I consider them true friends, unlike the vipers at school who make nice one minute and then stab you in the back the next. I mostly annoy the Frog boys at their family's comic shop, since they don't go to the same school as I do.

I met them in the comic shop about nine years ago; I had been eight when I first walked in the store. My parents took my brother and myself to the Boardwalk. And while they were sucking face, Jason and I had wandered off into the comic shop. I instantly set my sights on the brothers, and had stuck to them like glue. They were not pleased as I followed them about on their adventures in and around the Boardwalk. They had said I was a girl and had cooties. Ah, times have changed, and I knew for a fact Alan was going steady with some freshman.

The boys were also the ones to introduce me to horror comics like Eerie, Famous Monsters of Filmland, Vampirella, House of Mystery, Fear, and of course the Frog's favorite: Vampires Everywhere.I swear those two have given that particular comic to almost every local in town.

Nowadays we don't hang out as much as we did when we were younger; I don't know what happened. Sometime during the end of middle school, they had started distancing themselves from me, and began saying that vampires, do in fact, exist.

I don't believe them, but I don't make fun of them like the other kids do for their vampire beliefs. Now, I only see them when I go to their family's comic shop. It's sad, really. I miss hanging out with them, and talking, sometimes even arguing, with them.

"Going to the Boardwalk, isn't it a school night?" Jason asked, as he splashed cold water on his face.

"Ahhh, no. It's the start of spring break," I answered with a mild, 'duh' tone in my voice.

Sadly, it is true. The Boardwalk will surely be crowded as hell with tourists. Welcome to Santa Carla, the Murder Capital of the World, leave your wallet on the counter and now get fuck out of town.

"Shouldn't you know this? You are a college student." I continued.

"Ours is next week. Okay, listen up, I'll drive you down after a shower, but you have to find your own way back, deal?" Jason said as he started pushing me out of his bathroom.

I have such a good big brother, leaving me to fend off all the rapists and murderers of Santa Carla all on my own; such a sweet big brother.

"Deal," was my answer as he slammed the bathroom door in my face.

I headed out of his bedroom, patting myself on the back.

It was an hour later before we headed into town. I have always loved the Boardwalk, to me it has been a mixture of complete opposites; the old and new, the young and elderly, the rich and poor, and sub– and pop–culture. It had a pulse that was of life itself, but that was not the only pulse that beat within the Boardwalk.

Fear.

Fear was the other. From the Giant Dipper, to the side alleyways where drug dealers set up shop and the deep shadows stripped you of every comfort, fear ruled with an iron fist. At the Boardwalk, there is a very thin line between being afraid and being in absolute terror, all of which can be a very powerful aphrodisiac for some people.

The drive to the Boardwalk took about an hour. The sun was already setting and as I predicted, it was a mess of tourists, teens, and pot heads. I said my goodbyes to Jason, got out of the car, and walked a couple of long blocks to the Boardwalk's entrance. The lights were slowly, one by one, coming on and the guy in the Popeye mascot costume was waving goodbye to all the little kiddies and stoners.

I slowly weaved my way through the crowd to the Frog's comic shop doorway. The "Atlantic Fantasyworld"sign was dimly lit over the entryway, as I made my way through, Laughing Sal was mechanically cackling her head off, again. That robot was really annoying and really scary all at the same time.

The shop had barely anyone inside, except for a couple of tourists and of course the Frog brothers. Alan was standing near the door watching the crowds, dressed in faded, ripped blue jeans and a black muscle shirt. Over that was a wool green, plaid shirt.

"Hey, Alan," I greeted, while passing him by.

He acknowledged me with a nod of his head. Alan was not as big a talker like his brother. To be precise, neither of the Frog's were big talkers. The boy's parents were, as usual, sleeping upright in the corner near the television with thick shades over their eyes.

Edger was behind the counter. As customary, he was wearing a bandana around his head. He wore a ripped grey army jacket with a white shirt underneath. I gave him a small smile as I made my way to the horror section. I browsed through the titles looking for the one I wanted. I could feel Edger's chocolate colored eyes staring at the back of my neck. I looked up giving him another smile as I pulled out "The Horror of Dracula – Issue 4".

"Hey, Edger how are you guys doing lately," I inquired of him, placing the comic on the counter.

"We're alive and that's good," he replied, leaning away from me.

There was a slight sneer in his voice; that was a total shutdown, end of conversation, answer. He entered the numbers into the cash register.

"….Oh," I whispered, a little deflated.

This was getting awkward. The same sort of unease I get from talking with either of the Frog brothers, now. Who was I kidding? This was awkward as hell.

"Seven bucks," Edger said without delay.

I paid him in silence, swung my little brown backpack over my shoulder and stuffed the comic in it, then proceeded to quietly walk to the exit.

"Well, see you guys, later. Okay," I said turning back, looking form Alan to Edger.

It finally dawned on me, that I was no longer welcome there, as I hastily made my retreat into the crowd of people. When I was far enough away I looked back at the comic shop one last time. I saw something I never thought I would see, there through the shop window, Edger and Alan were arguing. Well, Alan was shouting at Edgar and Edgar had this stone cold look over his face, but it was still an argument.

Sure, when we were little we would argue and get into fights, but it was always the Frog brothers against me; never Alan and me against Edger, or Edger and me against Alan. Edger and Alan were of the same mind on most things, unlike the majority of siblings.

I then headed towards the beach, walking in silence through the crowds with an imaginary rain cloud over my head. I was depressed. I was depressed over the loss of my one friendship with the Frog brothers. They were my only true friends. All my other friends were like Stephanie Copper, friends that were so not really friends. People I socialized with, but never actually talk to.

I'm not trying to be so emotional, but it kind of bum's a person out when they finally realize that their childhood friends are no longer a friend, and that you have no one you can in reality talk to, without holding back.

With a sigh, I took off my sandals and rolled up the legs of my jeans as I sat on the steps that connected the beach to the boardwalk. I didn't really pay attention to anyone around me.

I could smell the salt of the ocean. I could hear the waves crashing on the shore and the roar of motorcycles in the distance. I got up and slowly made my way toward the shoreline and started walking on the beach. The cold waves lapped at my feet and the icy ocean mist hit my face. I really should have been paying attention, but I was too distracted and too depressed to notice that had I gained a following.

"My, my… damn, look at that ass," whistled a male voice close behind me.

I turned my head around in the dark, spotting three male figures following close behind me, only a couple of feet away. They were all taller than me, and had more muscle mass than me. Not good.

I could barely see them through the darkness, but I knew they were sizing me up like I was a rib eye steak and they were the only meat eaters at a vegetarian cookout. I would not have minded the attention, but right now I was so not in the mood. Usually, I would flirt then leave them hanging. I could be considered a tease, but that's just who I am. I did not want to lead anyone on now, though. I was alone, it was dark, and there was barely anybody around.

"What's a nice young thing like you doing out here on her own? Must be lonely; why don't me and my friends' keep ya company," jeered a different voice this time.

Okay, it was time to look for an escape. I started walking faster, my heart suddenly in my throat. In the short distance a group of guys huddled around one of the tin barrel fires placed along the beach. No wait; there was a chick with them! I could see the shape of a woman among the four male figures. That was good, real good. They had a woman with them, meaning they were not on the prowl for a piece of tail like the guys following me. There was now a good chance I could get out of this, and get on the 8 o'clock bus.

"I don't think she likes you, Mike," said the third male speaker.

I continue to hurry up the sand dune towards the group.

"Ah, don't be like that, baby. Don't walk so quickly and maybe you'll start to like me," 'Mike' said, when I was only a couple of feet from the group.

Okay Jamie, play it cool, act natural, don't act like too much of a freak, and get your ass out of here and on the freaking bus. Swallowing my pride, I began.

"Hey, guys! Sorry, I'm late," I exclaimed as I reached the group.

I knew they were staring at me like I was some kind of freak. I kept my eyesight resolutely on the tin barrel, because I knew if I looked up at any one of them I would lose my cool. I could already feel the back of my ears burning up, but this farce would totally make those goons leave me alone.

Without really looking, I looped my arm around the closest guy's arm. Then leaned up on trembling toes and kissed his scruffy cheek. I felt his whiskers tickle my sensitive lips.

"Sorry I'm late, baby. I missed you."

"We can't engage them. Not without Anthony's go ahead," the third guy behind me hissed to his friends.

The sudden tension between the two groups was heavy. Did I just land myself into a gang fight? I accidentally tightened my grip on the males arm in response; I looked down at my hand on said arm, as if it was betraying me in some way.

The man was wearing a long black trench coat and his hands were covered in supple leather gloves. He must have been a smoker, because I could smell the odor of tobacco coming off his overcoat. The guys that had followed me were treading away in the sand. I turned my head to watch their backs as they walked back to the shoreline. After that I stared back into the blistering flames of the fire. No one said anything.

"Well, bye then. Thanks, dude. I owe you," I imparted, finally unlinking myself from Mr. Trench Coat and starting to walk away.

Suddenly, a leather gloved hand seized my bare arm and jerked me back. It was like trying to resist steel. I turned my head and look up at Mr. Trench Coat for the first time.

His light blue eyes caught my brown ones, and then something happened that I cannot fully explain. It was like lightning struck me, or the split second before a wave hits a cliff face. A sudden shot of adrenaline coursed through my body, goosebumps running up and down my arms as it suddenly became really, really cold; almost akin to being on a mountain in Antarctica, and not on a beach in California.

The adrenaline was not from a cold panic, I knew this for a fact. For I did not have the sudden urge to run away in terror, it was quite the opposite in truth. My whole body, down to my very core, flooded with warmth.

I wanted to hold this man with the blond hair and frost-blue eyes, and simply never let go. I wanted him to wrap his arms around my body and let me bury my face in his chest. I may have wanted this, but I couldn't act upon it. I could not move for the life of me. I was struck dumb.

It felt like an eternity had passed before we broke eye contact; as it was he who suddenly looked up at something behind me. And I was able to breathe again. He let go of my arm, his fingers softly brushing over my skin in a ghostly caress. I shook my head once, and then twice before rubbing my eyes and the bridge of my nose.

When I looked up, I took notice that the blond's three companions had surrounded me. One of them was right behind me, leaning over my shoulder. He had long blond hair and a look of confusion written all over his face.

They all appeared to be confused, all except for the man with the scruffy jaw and the deep set eyes. His sensual lips were pulled in a smirk that was caught in the light from the fire, but that was not the most striking feature. He had a look of pure hunger on his face, one that scared the hell out of me.

Now, I felt the panic. I looked from the guys that surrounded me to Mr. Trench Coat, without a word I turned around and ran for it, pushing the one that was right behind me aside. I stumbled as I started to run in the slippery sand.

"No, let her go," his words danced along my skin, much like his fingers had.

I shivered uncontrollably at the sound of his voice, and looking back I saw him raising a hand that looked like he was telling them to stand down. I tripped on my feet as I gazed away from him. The sandals that I carried in my hand flew out of them as I caught myself from falling on my face and eating sand.

I picked up the sandal that was right next to me and started to run again. I left the other one behind. At that moment, I really didn't care if I lost it. I ran down the sandy beach towards the Boardwalk, up the stairs and quickly weaved my way through the mass of people.

I made my way to the other side of the Boardwalk where the bus stop was. I never stopped running and I didn't notice who I bumped into. I arrived at the bus stop and jumped on the large vehicle just as it was pulling away. I flashed my bus pass and carried on to the back of the bus. I was breathing very heavy as I sat down. My feet were killing me. And no wonder! As I inspected the bottom of my left foot, I had cut it on a shard of glass.

Leaving a trail of blood in my wake.