A Night on the Town
Although her muscles refused to cooperate, Jen gave a muffled sigh of relief.

“Fanks,” she mumbled. Fuck, she thought self-consciously, I must sound like a total jerk. “De name’s Jen.” It sounded more like “dzhen,” but should be comprehensible. Alright, put it together, girl, you can make the effort. “Y’ don’ve to wait wif me, y’ know. I can ‘andle fings from ‘ere.” What she really intended to say was: Please, don’t come with me. I’m a vampire and I don’t know you, and even though vampires are now common knowledge, I’m still a bit apprehensive about my post-feeding torpors, even to other leeches. But you’re a mortal, right? You don’t want to accompany a blood-thirsty monster to its lair, right? Even if it looks like a cute Chinese girl?

Her brain tried to signal something to her, something about the arm that embraced her being a tad too cold, but she was unable to make anything out of it.
Samara starts to giggle as the woman has a harder and harder time speaking. She gives her a gentle smile when she says that she can take things from here.

"You can barely speak, i do not think you would be able to drag yourself out of the car once we arrived. Already helped you so far so let me take you the rest of the way."

And sink my fangs into that pretty neck

"I am Sam. The phone says that the taxi is about 3 minutes away. So, what was so important that made you come out here, alone, at this time of the night with your condition? isn't that really dangerous? Didn't you ever had any problems due to it?"
Jen hated to admit that, but she really could use more help. It’s not like she was going to hurt the stranger girl – no, no stranger, her name’s Sam – Jen was pretty sure she was sated enough not to lose control, even in this sluggish state. As to having Sam accompany her to her lodgings... Well, she didn’t have, even couldn’t invite her inside, so it was probably safe enough. Besides, she was giggling prettily. Someone with such a sweet voice couldn’t be dangerous...

“Fanks,” she repeated and smiled sheepishly. “Ah, uh, fot Ah was feeling well enof. Ah guess y’ can blame... mah lack o’ assertiveness.”

The world around Jen rocked gently like a giant cradle.
Samara giggles as she took the girl onto her lap and gently rocked her back and forth like a giant baby, ocasionally patting her head. She might not be able to carry children anymore but she still has the natural insticts about how to deal with them and the way she saw it, Jen was very much like one right now.

The car arrives shortly after, the driver looks cleary confused, and that look only increase once Samara pump her blood into her muscles and carries Jen into the car before she herself gets inside. She looks over to the driver.

"To the outskirts please."

She then looks down at Jen and gently shakes her.

"Hey, is there a specific adress we should head to or just the outskirts in general?"
Jen didn’t notice it was Samara cradling her, not world – or maybe she did, but it made no difference to her. She almost lost it there, but came fast back to her senses when she was lifted.

“Wha–?!” She tried to wrest free, or at least imagined she did. “What’re y’ doin’?!”

She sat at the very far end of the backseat, knees to the chin, arms around legs. “No, silly, Ah don’ live in de outskirts in general, Ah’m not some bum,” she said to Sam and gave driver the address, but she had to repeat it twice before he understood. The car started and now Jen’s prime difficulty was not to get lulled again by the ride. Just a little longer, girl, you can do it. You really don’t want them to discover a corpse on the backseat. Because, uh-uh, you don’t look so good when you're “asleep,” really.

After what seemed like eternity of counting lampposts, remembering names of streets and pinching unhealthy cold skin, the cab stopped... apparently in the middle of nowhere. Well, not literally nowhere; there were some houses here and there, rather loosely placed, some not even fenced, a bunch of tin garages and lots of overgrown lawns, bearing more resemblance to meadows. Jen's hands searched pockets for wallet and keys as if of their own volition, without any order from brain.
Samara snorts at Jen comment about her not being a hobo, when she found her she certanly looked like one, laying on a bus stop and crawling around on the floor.

She waits until the car stop, lighty tapping her finger on the seat in rhythm to the song in the radio, Wanted Dead or Alive, and looking out of the window, watching as they get further and further way from the city center.

Once they arrive she looks over to the taxi driver "Thank you for the ride, have a goodnight.", he gives her a thumbs up as she steps outside and helps Jen to come along.

Once outside she looks around and her fear of being jumped returns as she takes in the houses around her and their dillapidated state. She bites her lips and starts bringing Jen over to front door of the house.
Only when the cab was gone, Jen realized she should had sent Samara back with it. Thanked her, wished her good night and paid for her ride back downtown or wherever. In a polite, but firm way. Yeah, she definitely should had.

Occupied by her thoughts, she suddenly noticed Samara was dragging her to her neighbor's doorstep. Too exhausted to speak, she pulled in the other direction. “No, not 'ere,” she mumbled. She pulled again, hoping her new friend would simply cooperate. She shambled across the street to an old mesh fence with a padlocked gate. Behind it, a kind of unkempt orchard could be seen – and a camping car which remembered better days, but someone apparently made an effort to restore at least a fraction of its former glory. There was a sign on the fence, too; it read: “No trespassing.”
Samara stops when she hears Jen speaking and looks over at the direction that she is pulling. As she looks over the house, that looks more like a crack den or the hideout of Leatherface, that Jen is pointing towards she starts to wonder if perhaps she should had left with the taxi. She helps Jen get over to the padlocked gate and, while keeping a eye out, ready to be jumped at any moment by a junkie, some serial killer or a gangbanger, she puts on a awkward smile and tries to make conversation to calm down her nerves

"So, quite a interesting place you have here, a interesting atmosphere, how did you came to live in it? Do you like, live by yourself?"
Jen barely registered Samara speaking. In fact, she was gradually less and less conscious about her surroundings, as she knew she was near a safe spot. She shouldn’t relax just yet, but she couldn’t help it, either. She thrust key into the padlock, turned it, and pushed the gate. It opened with a small screech. She made for the camp car, never minding whether Sam followed her or not, whether she closed the gate, whether she fastened the padlock back.

The Gangrel entered her narrow dwelling. A kitchenette to one side, kind of a bedroom to the other; all tidy and cozy enough, there were even pictures hanged above the single bed and some flowers in a pot. The anti-burglar window blinds, though, were easily the most expensive piece of furnishing here. Not that they helped against burglars, but they kept the sunshine away neatly.

Jen made for the bed, buried herself under a blanket, and slipped into oblivion with a sigh of relief. Under the cover, her torpid body took on a more corpse-like look.
Samara follows after Jen, closing the gate behind her but not putting the padlock back on, she enters the car with Jen and starts looking around at the pictures, stopping and turning when she hears the girl hitting the bed, she smiles upon hearing it, glad for the chance to get a quick snack from her.

She approaches the sleeping form of Jen, pulls back the cover and leans down, she is about to put her mouth around her neck when she notices that the girl is more akin to a corpse than anything else. She pulls her head back, having enough experience watching her girlfriend "sleeping" to come to the conclusion about what Jen is.

She considers just letting go of the girl, after all risking angering one of her kind should she wake up during the Kiss would be quite a foolish thing to do, however at the same time the idea of tasting the blood of her kind, arouses within her a hugner and a desire for it. In the end her hunger and desire wins out, arguing that she has the right for a quick snack after bringing the girl to her home. She gently places her lips to the neck of the sleeping Jen and lets her fangs softly pierce her skin as she starts to slowly drink in a mouthful of her blood.

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