11. Cats, Taxes, and Murderous Glee

Arms loaded with bags, Foxx stood there, struggling to angle his thumb the right way to open the door.

Alastair, who was carrying just as many bags as him, complained loudly behind him. "I don't get why you are doing all this."

"It's Harlow's birthday!" Foxx snapped, repeating himself for the fiftieth time. "He asked me to make him a cherry pie. So, that's what I'm doing." He sighed in relief when the door lock clicked and flashed green.

Bloody hell, they had been lucky that the security guard had actually been at his desk for once and had unlocked the lift for them.

"Him asking for a single pie explains you making ten, how?!" the other vampire grumbled, sounding very annoyed. "How come all I get is a single can of cookies for my birthday?! Also, how do you even expect him to eat ten pies?!"

"I mean, he won't eat all ten. But, I figured, he could eat what he wanted and then we'll take the remainder into the office." Foxx awkwardly grabbed and turned the doorknob, opening the door and ushering Alastair in before entering himself.

Alastair spun in the hallway with an angry hiss. "The office gets first dibs and not me?! Your best friend, and the person currently helping you make these pies?!"

Foxx stared and slowly lifted his brow in a question. "Helping, as in, you will carry these bags in, and then proceed to complain as you watch me do all the actual baking myself?"

"It's still helping!"

"Sure it is, you greedy sugar addict."

"Okay, but why so much?!" Alastair hmphed, and then cried indignantly, "WHY DOES THE OFFICE GET THE EXTRAS?!"

"By the Goddess, fine! You can have the extras! And I'm making so much…just…well, because!" Foxx snapped. Avoiding Alastair's gaze, he pushed past the man.

Truth be told, he didn't want to examine the why so much. There had been too many questionable thoughts in his head lately to want to examine anything, so he was sticking with the ‘he just wanted to' option. Though part of it was that he found making more than one pie just a bit petty.

Alastair moved up beside him. "That's not…"

The man trailed off as they both froze at the entrance, upon catching sight of the open concept space that made up the bulk of his ground floor.

"That…" Foxx hissed. "MOTHERFUCKER! I AM NOT A CAT!"

Every single flat surface he could see was covered in…boxes. The divided living room and entertainment area, his kitchen, the dining table… His ground floor had basically been turned into a city of bloody boxes!

Alastair burst into laughter. And continued laughing as Foxx let his arms go slack, depositing the bags on the floor.

Still chuckling, the other vampire scooted closer to a large box nearby and peaked inside. "You know, oddly, I do have an urge to step in, hmm…"

"Don't you dare!"

Alastair snorted. "Unlike you, I CAN control myself."

"How the fuck did he have time for this?!" Foxx hissed to…really himself, as Alastair definitely couldn't answer that question.

He'd left Harlow behind to get the ingredients he needed, because one, it was weird to shop for someone's birthday with them right there, and two, Harlow had an appointment… So again, how the hell had he had time to do all this, and where the fuck had the human hidden all the boxes?!

Eyes narrowing, he looked around briefly before growling, "Look for a camera."

"And THIS is the man you are making pies for?!"

"Just look for it! The fucker definitely put one somewhere!" Foxx snapped.

"Fine!"

Alastair set his bags next to Foxx's and they started their search. They found nothing for a good ten minutes before his friend cried out, "Look! There!"

Foxx straightened from the box he'd been searching, and accidentally knocked another pile over. Ignoring the mess, he looked to where Alastair was pointing. In the kitchen, in the corner of the counter, hidden in the shadows of the cabinets above…was a sleeping cat figurine. Narrowing his eyes, he easily caught sight of the small camera in the moon shaped marking on the cat"s forehead.

Pushing through the boxes, uncaring of all the ones he crushed and knocked over, he snagged the damn thing the minute it was in reach and crushed it in his hands. "The bastard…"

"Again, I feel I must point out how insane it is that the person who did all THIS is who gets all these pies and not me?!" Alastair whined.

Foxx spun, a slow smile slipping onto his face as an idea formed in his head. "Go back out and get more ingredients."

"WHAT?!"

"I'm going to make twenty pies… No, THIRTY PIES! The man can eat pie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for weeks, as far as I'm concerned!"

Alastair chuckled. "Oh, my. He doesn't know how petty you can be, does he?"

"Oh, he knows, and he doesn't care."

"How are you even going to have time to do all this before he gets home?"

"Harlow has some sort of doctor's appointment, followed by a meeting with the Guild insurers. He has a bunch of forms and shit to sign, all dealing with his house explosion. As, apparently, they are finally going to cover it. After that, he plans to look at motorcycles. He warned me he'd likely be out most of the day, so there is time!"

His friend scoffed and shook his head. "I'll be back then…I guess." Alastair turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Alastair slowly spun back around, his eyebrow raising in a clear sarcastic question.

"Let me make a list. I'll need to be strategic. Make some meat pies, and not just sweet ones, with plans to store many of them."

No point in wasting food.

"Foxx, he is not going to just eat pie for weeks."

"He won"t, but I bet I can get him to do it for at least a few days." Foxx giggled evilly, before gasping, "Oh, I have another brilliant idea! You know what, I'll go with you! But we have to hurry!"

Alistair sighed. "Couldn't you just have the things delivered?"

"I could…but, ugh…they get it wrong so often! Come on!" He slipped his arm through Alastair's and dragged him back down the hall.

The other vampire sighed again, but let himself be pulled out the door.

* * *

Harlow sat there grinning,his mind drifting to what he'd left behind in the apartment. Wes was saying something, but who cared. He'd done what he'd set out to do. It had taken planning, but he pulled it off—his glorious city of boxes. The question was…how fast would Foxx find the camera?

Ehh—probably quickly… Well, he'd find the cat one quickly. The other ones, not so much. But then he wasn't meant to find those.

Even if he found the cat camera and destroyed it, the footage was saved on a private external server, so…

Though, it may be worth viewing the other cameras to see things from all angles.

He pursed his lips. No matter what, the footage likely wouldn't be as fun as the first time. Foxx wasn't stupid. No way would he sit in any of the boxes in there. But his reaction would still be enough to make it worth it.

Wes' voice broke through his thoughts. "Harlow, are you even paying attention?"

Grin still in place, he said, "Not at all."

His doctor scoffed. "Well, now that you are… You said the nightmares are gone, correct?"

Harlow blanked his expression at the question. "Correct. I'm all fixed."

"What if they come back?"

"They won't."

"How can you be so sure? What if Foxx gets hurt again?"

"Well, it's a good thing that I plan to make sure he doesn't," Harlow drawled snidely.

"There is no way you can guarantee it won't happen again, Harlow. Some things can't be stopped."

He growled, "I will guarantee it. And I will stop it."

Harlow had to. The cause of his nightmares was obviously Foxx. He wasn't sure why, but it had to be that. Wes also agreed the vampire was the cause, even if his reasoning as to why wasn't all sound. Though…he was slowly coming around to the idea that…MAYBE…Foxx almost dying…had scared him. Ugh…it sounded so wrong to even think it.

Regardless, Harlow refused to deal with whatever the hell it was again. Dreams, nightmares, or whatever, were not for him. Having them made him feel off, and not himself. So, to prevent his body from ever feeling off again, he'd make sure Foxx didn't get hurt again. It was the only logical solution, right?

He had the cameras installed to protect the apartment, and soon enough, he'd have a tracker to place on Foxx… The problem was mostly solved.

As for Foxx's nightmares…he had a solution for those too. He was just stalling on contacting Gavin. In part, it was due to Foxx wanting to testify. The vampire deserved to be able to get a chance to confront the fuckers who tried to kill him.

Though, he was mostly just waiting because multiple people in the same group getting offed before their trials would have raised major red flags. Which, sadly, made this plan of his less an immediate solution and more a long-term goal.

As much as he'd hate for Gavin to bring his ass here in the immediate future—which would one hundred percent happen once he called—he probably should just go and get the hits set up. Then it would only be a matter of time before?—

"What are you thinking about that has you smiling like that?" Wes asked slowly.

Harlow blinked, and blanking his expression once again, he proceeded to lie, "Taxes."

"Taxes… Yes, as don't we all smile with murderous glee when thinking of…taxes," Wes deadpanned.