Disclaimer: WB owns 'Moonlight.' I make no money off this.

AN: This covers the plot arc between ep. 9-12. If you haven't seen any of these yet, be aware that there are spoilers in the fic.

It was started with good intentions and we are now many, many chapters into it. In all honesty, the writing gets much better shortly down the line. I feel compelled to apologise for this opening although I have been assured it's fine. :)

And I know this story has been put up and taken down more often than a bride changes her mind about the cake, but I forget that FF doesn't format like my other sites. Silly me!

As always, comments are love.

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Beth sat in the waiting room, staring vacantly at the opposite wall. There was a painting of a young father, his daughter in his arms; bright, vivid splashes on the canvas momentarily cheered up the drab green. In most stories, at this point, she should be feeling either remorse or the elation of revenge. But how could she? If Coraline died...no, that was just it! It wouldn't be Coraline who died, it would be mortal, human Morgan. Mick had killed Coraline. And Beth, well...she'd done her damndest to destroy Morgan now, hadn't she?

"The cure, oh god, the cure," she moaned softly, red nails digging into her palms. She had been terrified, soul-sickened after killing Lee Jay, but she'd known as soon as she looked into Mick's eyes that it was the only option. Coraline - stabbing Coraline had been like a reflex. Every nightmare, every thankful prayer she'd ever said after waking up in her own bed, the twenty years of turmoil poured itself though her. And what about the jealousy, her mind whispered.

There were so many half-truths to untangle and she was tired of ferreting out secrets, exhausted by the revelations that kept coming, forcing her backwards into a corner until she felt she had to do something , anything to take the memories away. In a college course on Developmental Psychology, Beth recalled a professor advocating real-life solutions for recurring nightmares - a glass of water at one's beside for people who dreamt about being burned, baseball bats for the monsters under the bed. She closed her eyes, Nobody had ever mentioned stakes...

Pull yourself together, Turner, she ordered mentally, Now is not the time to wallow. Get up, make the insurance call and get some coffee. Every moment of the next half-hour was like wading through molasses. And inconceivably, she found herself wishing that Josh was here. Human Josh, who cooked chicken and woke up next to her and who would not have been fucking - do vampires fuck? yet another revelation left in store - his ex-wife, who had stolen Beth from her bed to use her in some sick fantasy, and who was incidentally supposed to be DEAD, and stringing her along at the same time...To be fair, she thought, running a hand slowly over her eyes, he hasn't exactly been stringing me along. I kissed him. But every time he says 'This is why it can never work' I know he's been thinking about it, And if we've both been thinking about it...and the way he looks at me...I can't...Josh said it couldn't be missed. For one second rage blazed through her at Coraline and Mick for drawing her into their games; rage against the vampires for their heedless, cruel ways.

"Miss Turner."

"Miss Turner!"

Fingers snapped in front of her face. Carl Davis looked concernedly at her. This is not like Beth, he thought, taking in her pallor and the langorous movements of her eyes.

Beth almost panicked and fled. "I...," she started, voice cracking, then grasping the edges of self-control she looked up and smiled. "Miss Turner? What happened to Beth? she quizzed softly.

"You're a suspect in an attempted homicide. I can't show any unprofessionalism."

"I didnt...!" she began.

"I wouldn't say much more right now," another voice chimed in behind them.

Davis raised an eyebrow, "And here comes the man of the hour. What the hell was going on in your apartment, St John? You have two ladies there (the faint accusation making Beth wince unconsciously), two friends who've worked together just fine in the past , and one of em ends up stabbing the other with a piece of wood?! I think you both better start talking fast."

"It was an accident," Mick insisted, drawing a protective arm around Beth. She looks like she's going to pass out, he thought grimly, her overloud heartbeat thready and rushed, "Beth's helping me with one of my cases and I'd forgotten she was supposed to come over tonight. Morgan was still shaken up from the car accident..."

"BETH! BETH!" Josh's voice rang down the hall, effectively cutting Mick off. Beth's head whipped around, "Josh!" She wrenched herself out of Mick's grip and into Josh's arms, "please take me home."

Josh nodded at Davis, "You know I can't hear any details, Carl. I'm taking her home. She can talk to you tomorrow with a lawyer." His voice hardened, "St John, I wouldn't attempt any explanations just yet."

The lieutenant nodded absently, his eyes fixed on St John's face instead. So the PI has the hots for Beth, noting the hurt in Mick's eyes as he watched Beth leave.

Mick felt like his lungs had just collapsed. He looked over at Davis who was watching him expectantly, then turned and walked down the corridor, back to the trauma ward. Away from the sight of Beth and Josh.

Coraline was in surgery. The doctors were fairly positive that she would make a full recovery, although the stake had collapsed a lung. Mick settled himself uncomfortably into a virulent green plastic bucket-seat.

It was going to be a very long night.

At 4am the doctors emerged smiling. She would be fine. Was he family? Husband, brother? Mick took a deep breath, "No. Friends. Her family is...I'm not sure how to contact them but I'm sure her employer will do that." He paused, struggling briefly with himself then gave in, "May I see her?" Is she conscious? Can she talk? What is the cure?

"She's been asking for you. This way."

Coraline looked so small and fragile in the bed, tubes connecting her to a variety of machines that beeped and blinked. Mick glanced at them distractedly, half of them were unfamiliar. What was still familiar was the peculiar hospital smell - mortality, death and decay. He hadn't been this deep in a hospital in over 60 years, apart from the time he'd chased a feral vamp in with Beth...Oh bloody well done, he thought to himself, bring up another topic we can all enjoy.

The nurse who had been bustling around, peeped up at him from beneath long lashes, "She's sleeping now. I'm not going to wake her so perhaps you'll come back again Mr...?"

"St John," he supplied warily, not missing the way she was smiling at him. Two women was his limit and even then chaos reigned. One in hospital, and the other...with Josh.

The nurse ran her eyes up and down the tall figure in front of her, finally glancing up to see the dismal look that swept across his face. "Don't worry, your girlfriend's going to be fine," she said, bending over Coraline.

Mick wrenched his thoughts away from Beth and focused, "Um, she's not my girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Your wife? The different last names you know.."

"No!!" What was this woman on about? "We're...old friends."

"Well, she's lucky to have you to stand by her," the nurse smirked, moving to put a hand on his arm.

Was that a purr?! The woman was clearly deranged. They were in a hospital for God's sake! He could smell the desire off her and hear the quickening heartbeat; Mick had had enough monstrosities for one day.

"Thank you," he said, swiftly disengaging himself, "please tell Co - Morgan I came by. I'll come again tomorrow."

He didn't drive home after all. Mick found himself parked outside Beth's apartment block staring up at her darkened windows. Josh's car was still parked at the curb and Mick had a sudden, violent impulse to get out and overturn it, just so he could smash something.

He cursed and put the car into gear, ignoring the wrenching sounds as he sped away. In her bedroom, Beth woke screaming from her nightmare. But this time there was no guardian angel - she was Coraline and she'd just ripped Mick's head off. The gunning engine softened in the distance.