Heathcliff thoroughly enjoyed watching Mariel exercise her bestial nature on that weirdo at the club. Thinks the guy who had the collar around his neck, he reminds himself. The emotional high he felt from her presence left a devastated low, as his conscience had been waiting up for him, wearing a night masque and brandishing a rolling pin, like the wife from that Sunday newspaper comic Andy Capp that's really not ever funny. As he stepped through the door of his apartment, it beat him up for enjoying being a monster, for being enthralled with another monster. He sat at his desk, probing his memories of the night as one does a worrisome tooth, and with the subsequent, albeit emotional, pain. Let's see, I nearly died from some crazy Vampire Flu...Oh God, I almost killed that hooker...and then I almost got killed by that mugger and his friends, before I almost killed him, too...and I'll never be able to think of that day at the petting zoo with Rachel without thinking about tonight, and oh yeah- leaving a bunch of blood-drained animals lying around is a violation of the Masquerade. Maybe, with the sickness going around, no one will notice. Yeah.

He looked at the pile of paperwork undone, realized the sun would be rising soon, and sat as his desk to get as much finished as possible, which was more than you might think, as Heathcliff could be terribly efficient when need be. He placed the finished paperwork in a small box, and left it outside his door with a note reading "WAS SICK. TAKE THESE, LEAVE REST, COME BACK NEXT WEEK." Finally, he sent Frank, his old fishing buddy and boss (How many vampires answer to a mortal? You gotta get with it, old man) at the SHA, an email heads up about the paperwork. Frank wouldn't care, so long as it all got done eventually; they had been friends for a long time, and the wheels of government are expected to move slow, in any case.

He locked and bolted the door, and tried to fall asleep while listening to the birds chirping outside of his black-spraypainted windows, which was always depressing for Heathcliff. He thought again of Mariel, put on some Tom Petty slightly louder than the birds were chirping, and went to bed with a satisfied smile on his face.

What a day.