(Why I chose this place, Honestly, je ne sais pas)

Tonight had been the last showing of Shakespeare's Hamlet. To Mister Jack Law had been sent a playbill with the word rematch written in cursive across the image of the ghost. He knew who it was from.

It was late and the last of the players and audience had gone home, quiet filled the empty air, so thick it was sufforcating. Rin sat silently center stage, staring into the empty eye sockets of the skull of Yorick held currently in her right hand. In her left was a sword, hardly fitting for the time of Hamlet since it was japanese. The sleek black sheathe hid the silver blade as it laid over her lap.

There was no other way to describe her appearance, if this had been the play she would have looked like one of the players. Dressed for show and nothing else. Her long brown hair had been curled, and if all the lights hadn't been shut off there would have been a tint of red to it, it would have complemented the dress of red silk which was fitting enough to her form for one to notice there was more to it. Perhaps a pair of shorts, a holster or two with a gun and perhaps a knife. She never did like fighting in dresses or skirts.

The only things missing were a smidgit of make-up and shoes. She hated high heels and Nikes didn't go with the dress, so she went barefoot. Rin sat very still now, gaze of her dark eyes straight foreward and ears with a string of gold earrings listening for movement in the darkness.

Hamlet. Jack snorted at the playbill when he first drew it from the pile of bills and junk mail. He had always hated Hamlet, a play about a bunch of crazies determined to avenge deaths, ending with a room full of corpses. At first, Jack thought that the bill had been sent by some organization or another, bent on tearing society's eyes away from the TV set and dragging it to the theatre. It wasn't until the officer flipped the bill over, more out of habit than anything, and saw the word rematch scrawled across the picture of the king's ghost that it clicked. Why do vampires always insist on being so dramatic all the time? Jack chuckled and let the other mail lay where it was. He had a feeling that the electric bill could wait until the next day.

He waited until the play was over to start making his way toward The Last Curtain. The innocent needn't be involved in such foolish behavior as fighting vampires. As his beat up pickup truck came to a somewhat squeaky halt outside the theatre, Jack took a deep breath and stepped out from the cab, dressed in worn blue jeans and an old army surplus jacket with "Eichner" stiched across the left breast pocket. The officer had armed himself as best as he could for the fight, his colt .45 in its customary place at his left hip, sharing the worn brown belt with his ASP, two additional pistol magasines, and a fresh can of mace. Jack also wore his kevlar vest beneath his white t-shirt, just in case Miss Rin had thought to pack some heat. Jack drew another object from the cab of the truck. His remington model 1100 12 gauge shotgun, loaded with four rounds of double ot buckshot and a slug in the bottom of the magasine tube. The pockets of his jacket were laden with shells for the gun, enough to seriously deter physical movement on his opponant's part. Jack pushed open the heavy front door of the theatre, and called into the darkess. "Hamlet? Miss Rin, really." He laughed and took a step inside, keeping his back pressed against the wall. No telling where she could come from... Oh well. What's the worst that could happen? A variety of horrible outcomes flashed before Jack's mind. ...Maybe it's best to concentrate on the fight, then...

((OOC: Sorry it took so long to post, Rin.))

A warm laugh filled the theatre and trickled over his skin like warm water. Vampire tricks. "Hamlet isn't your forte, Law? I thought it was fitting considering the situation." She pulled a Browning from the leg holster and waited. He wasn't a complete idiot, he'd bring something to try and take her down with. Knowing him well enough she guessed it would be automatic and filled with shiny silver bullets. Sweet.

"I don't suppose you brought a sword? Don't worry ... you can always borrow one of the actor's wooden ones. Maybe you can stake me with it." Her voice had the edge of laughter to it, seemingly careless for a person in a room with someone who wanted her dead. Rin stood taking the sword in one hand and the Browning in the other. "Come out where I can see you, Law, if I wanted to pounce on you I would have done it a long time ago."

(it's alright, gives me a reason to start writing again. I just have one request before we start this blood fest, no killings plis. And ... is there any openings for negotiation?)

((Killing? I wouldn't dream of it. And you're dealing with an officer of the law, there's always going to be an opportunity for negotiation.))

Jack edged along the wall of the theatre, keeping his back firmly pressed against the concrete. Making his way to the front of the entrance hall, Jack swiftly turned the corner to face the stage, shotgun held at the shoulder. The vampiress' form was shillouetted against the soft back light of the stage, sword in one hand, pistol in the other. So she did think to bring a gun.......

It was no use trying to be stealthy, he was in Rin's element; darkness. Advancing down the center aisle, toward the stage, Jack called to Rin's form, "So, Miss Rin, it's come to this. We're both heavily armed, and we both want eachother dead." Jack sighed, still looking at rin down the barrell of the gun. "It doesn't have to be like this. I'm sure you have your reasons, and in retrospect, I regret not taking up yur offer at the nightclub. So, we can either shoot eachother to pieces, or talk like civilized, er... humans." Jack put more pressure on the trigger as he raised the bead to Rin's head. "Well?"

Was that an apology?

Rin was still raw over the situation with the mace, but she had wanted to talk this over to begin with. He sounded reasonable enough, if only that rifle didn't have her in it's sights. With the darkness if he changed his mind it would make the shot more difficult. However with her the darkness wasn't a problem, chances were good she could take him out before he could get off a shot.

"We can talk."

Rin stood there watching him, pistol in hand. Just how long was he going to hold that position. She doubted that since she had agreed to talk he was going to lose it, or lower it for that matter. Pointing the Browning to the cieling she stared down at him, waiting.

"Alright..." Jack said, slowly lowering the shotgun from his shoulder to his waist, still keeping the barrell pointed in Rin's direction. The buckshot could still knock her out of the air at this position, though it wouldn't have the killing power of an aimed shot. "What exactly is it that you wanted to tell me back at the nightclub? All I wanted to do was question Tabitha, but the whole spotlight stunt did nothing but confirm my suspicions." Jack smiled in the dark; the vampiress had unwittingly brought the heat on herself. "So?"

Jack slowly backed to the first row of seats and sat down. Rin already had a stool onstage, and he saw no need to continue the conversation in discomfort. Still keeping the shotgun pointed in Rin's direction, Jack settled in his seat, waiting for a reply.

"So I didn't want you to go on thinking that vampires were all ruthless, murderous monsters who would eat a kid while he was tucked in bed."

Granted there were some who did take kids from their bed but why should vampires have that image stuck to their forehead then staked? Gah. Where was an immortal M.L. King jr. when you needed one. Rin drew the stool closer while she held the pistol with her other hand, she sat down and looked down to him.

"I'll admit, I've killed before. I'm one of the Tarepha ... it's what we do. But I also try to live a very human life. I never chose to be this, Law, understand that. And until I met you the only time I ever had conflict over this was when my loft came down in flames."

Closing her eyes she let a sigh escape half-parted lips. "I suppose the point I wanted to make was that not all monsters are evil." Part of her felt that everything she had just laid down was going to end up like the loft downtown, nothing but ashes if he took it wrong. And at the moment it almost seemed like he wanted to.