If You Don't Love Me...
She shook her head back and forth, then blinked. Once. Twice. Yup; a naked man still lay there, unconscious and blocking her path. She ground into "Park" and leapt out of her truck. In the dim glow of her headlights she could make out a hairy-legged, brown-hared man.
"Hello? Are you awake?" She asked, approaching cautiously. She considered kicking him, then placed a cautious hand on his warm, bare upper-arms. A light groan escaped from the lips of the limp individual. Torrie, without another moment's hesitation, decided that leaving a man half-dead in the middle of a highway was neither a nice nor a karmic thing to do. Years of life in the mountains had taught her how to haul ass efficiently; His Nudeness was soon lying, curled up in a fetal position, in the passenger side seat of her truck. Torrie draped a blanket over his form for tasteful effect, then gunned her engine; she had at least ten minutes to make up for.
****
"Bloody unfair," Muttered James, as he watched this scene play out beneath them, "Your boy comes to life completely dressed, and mine has to walk the earth as nude as a politician?"
Ed smirked, "Your boy needs a lesson in vulnerability. He warped space and time itself down there. I'm sure he can find a shirt and put it on by his lonesome.
***
"...No way!"
"No, I swear, Jeff, he fell out of the freaking sky!"
"Why don't I believe you?"
"Yeah, Tor, are you really sure that he isn't some kind of..." Jeff paused, "Guy rat? Don't look at me like that; what do they call guys who rats anyway?"
"Oh, please; I have principles. More than I can say for you, Matt."
"Ooh! Burn!"
"Ha hah...very funny. Well, Mo, Larry, what're we going to do with the nudist here?"
"The Nudist...you know, that'd make a really good gimmick! I should pitch it to Vince..."
"Not. Now. Just help me get some pants on him..."
"Forget that...just get him inside!"
He was aware of being carried, so Caleb remained still, wary within his new circumstances. After a quick change in temperature and was placed upright, in a chair. Intentionally making it difficult for the little group, he listed to the left, forcing them to settle him into his seat by weighting him with a duffel bag...which was filled with some unaccountably smelly articles of clothing.
"OK, if what you're saying is true, we need to call missing persons."
"Right, if you call information, they'll route you through," A long pause, indicating surprise, "Sometimes Jeff would get on my nerves, and I..."
"Don't explain. Matt, you're Mr. LevelHeaded, you do it. I have to stretch for my match with Dawn."
"Oh yeah, good luck with that."
"Right. I won't fall on my face this time."
The room seemed to empty, and Caleb opened one cautious eye. He noticed a blond woman, stretching in one corner of the room in some ridiculously revealing, skin-tight outfit. An odd hunger swept over him; then he realized that his last feeding had been days ago. Smacking his lips, he carefully lifted the gym bag from his lap, then crouched down, trying to regain his old stealth.
A wave of guilt swept over him as he prepared to stake his claim; not a foreign concept to him, but one that hunger should have overrode. Caleb made a bargain with himself; he would pretend the young blond to be that annoying little blond, Alison Barrington. The one with the little boyfriend, and the tendency to get between he and Olivia....Ah yes, now he could accomplish his goal..
When he felt the blond appropriately distracted, Caleb leapt, wrapping one arm across her throat and sending his mouth on a collision course with her snowy, tender neck. There was little she could do, not even scream, and the satisfaction of having his prey at heel made that descent all the more sweet...
Not even those heavenly wretches could keep him from his meal.