if_inconvenient | (no subject)

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Where do you go when you want to find a vampire in Sunnydale?

Well, that depends on the vampire, does it not?

For this one, Sherlock will not start out by wandering the streets aimlessly at two in the morning.

It's five in the morning—closer to sunrise; the cautious vampires are likely to be tucked in for the day already—and he is aimed somewhere very specific.

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Really, the only thing he needs to do is confirm that Reed is present at all.

It doesn't take long.

After some debate, he decides against spying on the sleeping vampire for the rest of the day. It probably wouldn't tell him anything useful, and he's a little tired himself. And it might be construed as a creepy thing to do.

Sherlock goes home again, sends Cal a terse email informing him of the address, and sleeps like a log until midafternoon.

The equally terse reply comes that evening, a couple hours after the email has already been read.

thx sherlock. r u ok?

Fine. No trouble.

This reply comes much more quickly.

ok good.

"Planning to ask him what he's going to do with the knowledge?"

"I doubt he'll have an answer."

"I suppose that concludes the conversation, then."

"Hm," says Sherlock.

"I trust he knows that if he wants a more detailed report, he has only to ask."

He also trusts that when Cal does act, he won't do anything ludicrously foolish.

He still considers shadowing him for the next few nights as a precautionary measure.

It isn't long after that that a phonecall comes through from the Chandler compound's security line.

(Peter was doing Cal the courtesy of pretending he hadn't already read the email. Cal was doing Peter the courtesy of pretending to believe him.)

"Mr Beardsley wants a word with you."

"Of course he does."

Jarvis takes that as sufficient indication to connect the call.

"So what else is there that I should know?"

Peter enjoys not wasting time on pleasantries.

"The rumour mill puts the body count at a half-dozen or so. Four other vampires in the warehouse. He has been trying to remain unobtrusive, but he is not very good at it, and needless to say he is working at a disadvantage."

None of that surprises Peter much. The fact that Reed Chandler managed, twice, to feed from his brother without killing him is impressive; the frustrated homicidal instinct probably ended up snapping back on him hard.

"I've been watching the papers," he says. "It's only a matter of time before something really interesting happens."

"Agreed."

He tucks his hands behind his head and examines the ceiling thoughtfully.

"And how are things with the rest of the family?" he inquires.

"Rapidly approaching irrelevant."

Cal is cementing his hold on the household power better than Peter had expected. Definitely better than he could have a couple of months ago. Mrs Chandler, still laboring under the apprehension that her son is as useless as he was then, is underestimating him completely, and Peter has consistently neglected to correct her. Oops.

Hey, when your time's up, it's up. Socially, Violet Chandler still matters, but inside the Chandler walls, she's done.

"Of course."

And as for Grahame Chandler . . . Peter has a feeling Mr Chandler won't be staying in Sunnydale at all for much longer. Even he has to have a limit as to how much humiliation he can take, and he doesn't have his brother's career to keep him in line anymore.

"I don't think your friend will have as much time to come over and play as he used to," he says dryly.

"Pity. I was hoping he could help me with my homework."

Peter makes a sound that is probably amusement.

"Anything else I need to know?"

"I decided against watching him sleep all day, so the substance of what I gathered is only as much as I have told you already."

That's a no.

"All right.

"Don't worry about him at night. I'm on his tail if he so much as looks out the window."

This is even more true now than it was before. Cal Chandler has gained considerably in importance.

That, and Peter knows damned well where Cal will go once he does leave the house at night, now that he has an address.

That, too, is a matter of time.

"So I imagine. I'll leave him in your hands, then."

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