A/N: Welcome to my newest story! If you haven't read my others, this fic is part of a series, so go back and click on my name for a list of my stories, starting with "Behind Closed Doors." The rest of you, prepare yourself for the trip of a lifetime. Okay, it may not be that great of a trip, but I'm glad you are here for the ride. Please don't hesitate to review—reviews encourage me and make me want to keep writing! Okay, fasten your seatbelts…

Chapter 1

MICK

The LA Coliseum was lit up bright as day, but I knew it wasn't football season. Also, it was one o'clock in the morning. I stood at the top of the bleachers, looking far below as my vampire vision easily made out Josef down on the field, a huge pile of footballs at his feet where he stood beneath the huge white goal posts. I watched in surprise as he threw ball after ball clear to the other end of the field, each throw sailing exactly between the opposite goal posts. Of course, his vampire strength and acuity almost ensured that he would make every throw. No, what was so surprising was that he seemed to be enjoying what he was doing. I'd never seen him even express an interest in football.

I looked around, and, neither seeing nor sensing anyone else nearby, I made it down to the field in two jumps. Josef had sensed me, of course, but as I walked to his position on the field, he paused and tossed the ball he held from one hand to the other, a big grin stretching across his face.

"Mick. Glad you could make it. Feel like throwing around the old pigskin awhile?"

"This can't be the reason you called me down here at one o'clock in the morning." I picked up a football, trying to remember the last time I had held one. Before the War? "What's this all about?"

"Thought you might want to celebrate with me. LA is getting a new pro team, thanks to a new investor whom we all know and love."

I looked at him, wondering if I would ever stop being amazed at the things Josef Kostan did. "You bought a football team? The arena you built last year wasn't enough for you?"

He shrugged, expertly throwing the football he'd been holding. Another perfect throw. "I love football. And I used to be pretty good at it, although I had to downplay my vampire abilities."

"Yeah? When? I've never seen you play anything but a round of golf or a pick-up basketball game." He took the ball from my hand.

"Go long," he said. I took off my coat and tossed it on the grass, then headed toward the other end of the field, catching the ball in mid-air, having to jump about five feet straight up to get it.

"Notre Dame Class of 1924," he continued, our hearing not requiring that we yell across the field to be heard. "Wide receiver."

"No way! You must have known Knute Rockne!" I threw the ball back and he caught it deftly.

" Of course I did. Hell of a guy. Hell of a coach. You know, if I hadn't suggested it, he would have said the slightly less inspiring, 'score one for the Gipper.'"

I laughed, used to Josef's seemingly exaggerated name-dropping. "Yeah, right." I changed the subject, since my bullshit meter was going haywire. "So, what's the name of the new team?" He caught the ball again, and we continued with our impromptu game of catch.

"Don't have a name yet. Maybe you can help me with that…when you go on a little trip with me."

Well, that sounded cool. I always enjoyed going on trips with Josef. Well, except our last trip—a cruise to Mexico with us and the girls—which verged on horrific. Unless you like prison movies. But usually it was great to fly in Josef's private jet, fully equipped with freezer berths, and expensive scotch, for a long weekend in some exciting city. So I was game. We needed some guy time anyway. Maybe we could go to Vegas.

"Okay. Sure. Where?"

He hesitated, which, with Josef, was never a good sign. Josef was rarely hesitant unless it involved a woman. And now that he'd turned Simone and they were living together, that hesitation could only mean one thing.

"You know, Mick, I've always said it's the journey, not the destination."

"No you haven't. You've always said you wished—insert mode of transportation here—would hurry the fuck up. Or, that you could run faster than whatever we were riding in. Or that someone needs to hurry the hell up and figure out how to make planes go at light speed. You are a destination person, Josef, not a journey person. So where the hell are we going?"

"I think the more correct question in this case is how? How are we going?"

"Okay, just spill it." Josef always likes a dramatic buildup to his announcements—especially when they involve asking me a favor. In this way, he was definitely a journey person.

"Simone would like us all—you, Beth, Simone, and I—to take a road trip…to New York. In a Winnebago."

I missed the ball he'd just thrown and it sailed past me into the bleachers.

"You're shittin' me. I think that's one of the stupidest ideas I've ever—"

"Now, Mick, " Josef interrupted me. "I've had ideas much stupider than this one. Remember when I took the Cure?"

Well, he had me there, but still…

"You would think you'd learned something by now," I said. "Recklessness does not suit you. Rash decisions based on emotion always seem to get you in trouble." Tired of our game of back and forth—and I wasn't just talking about tossing a football—I began walking back to where Josef stood.

"Mick, Mick, Mick. It's a road trip, I'm not donating a kidney. Millions of perfectly sane Americans take this trip every year. It will be a great chance for us to see first-hand the spacious skies, the purple mountains majesty, the amber waves of etcetera, etcetera. Where's your sense of adventure?"

I paused and looked at him, halfway across the field by then. "Simone is making you do this, isn't she?" When he looked sheepishly away, then disguised his embarrassment by reaching down for another football, my suspicions were confirmed. I laughed.

"That's it, Josef. You are officially more whipped than I have ever been or ever will be."

And then it hit me. I mean literally. One second I was laughing my ass off, the next I was sitting on said ass on the Astroturf, a football in my gut. Amidst the pain I looked up to see Josef standing over me, eyes sparkling at his handiwork. He reached down a friendly hand to pull me back up, and I was tempted to pull him down and beat the crap out of him. But, since accusing a guy of being pussy whipped was tantamount to insulting his mother, I guess I had sort of deserved it. I took his hand grudgingly, wincing at the pain in my stomach. Josef smirked in satisfaction.

"Can I at least know why we are embarking on this so-called 'adventure?'" I asked, walking gingerly over to pick up my coat. It hurt a little to bend over to get it.

By unspoken agreement, we headed back toward the lower level exit. Josef sighed, all pretense of selling the idea to me gone. "Simone wants us to meet the future in-laws in New York City. She thought it would be fun to use this as a chance to see the country and have a great bonding experience with you and Beth. I told her if we were any more bonded, we'd be one person. She just gave me the 'look.' You know, the narrowed eyes, the I'm-gonna-get-my- way- so- you- may- as –well- give- in –without-a-fight stare?"

Oh, I knew that look, all right. Beth had perfected it.

"Besides," Josef continued, "now that she's a vampire, it's even harder for me to say no to her. Especially when she has me in a headlock."

I chuckled, wondering whether he was exaggerating. Knowing how spirited Simone was, I didn't doubt there was some truth to it.

"Okay. When do we leave?" He'd known of course that I would always go along with him, no matter how crazy the scheme.

"Next week, if I can get a Winnebago outfitted with freezer berths in time."

"You know we'll be in that thing at least a week, crossing endless miles of mostly monotonous scenery."

He threw one arm around my shoulders as we walked down the ramp toward the exit. "Come on, Mick, our destination is New York! And In the immortal words of John Madden: 'The road to Easy Street goes through the sewer."

"I don't think the kind people of the Midwest will appreciate being characterized as a sewer, Josef."

"Mick, my man, when will you learn not to care what other people think?"

BETH

I had almost finished packing when there came a knock on my door. I had agreed to go on this trip, using my last week of vacation for the year on Simone's dream to see America from coast to coast. I hated road trips, but Simone was my friend, and Mick said he was in too, so I buckled under peer pressure for the first time since high school. I hoped it wouldn't turn out like that time I did a keg stand off the tailgate of Jason Ramsey's pickup.

It was Mick at the door, and even after an entire year of being together, he still made my heart turn over just looking at him. He filled the doorway completely, not just with his tall, lithe frame, but with his very presence, his charisma. Especially when he was grinning at me in that slightly crooked way he had sometimes—a little shy, as if uncomfortable showing me how happy he was to see me.

"Hel—" he began, but I cut him off with a kiss. It was like our first kiss all over again, short and sweet, and taking him completely by surprise.

"—lo," he finished, remembering it too. But unlike the first time, the follow-up kiss was initiated by him, and he pulled me close, deepening it , seeming to devour my lips and tongue with his own, till I was the one dazed and confused.

"Now that is what I should have done that first time, but I was too chicken, "he murmured sexily against my lips. I smoothed back the curls that had fallen across his brow during our embrace, moving to caress his slightly stubbled cheeks, meeting his hazel eyes.

"But you were so cute standing there, all shocked and bewildered. I never asked you what you were thinking after I attacked you, aside from that stupid 'it was an accident' speech."

He laughed, backing me up into my condo and shutting the door behind us. "Well, when I could think, there were all different thoughts jumbled up in my head. My first clear thought was, wow, where did that come from? Which quickly led to, her lips tasted like strawberries,"--at this he touched his tongue to my lips, nodding as if confirming his analysis—"And finally, I thought, I am really gonna fall hard for this girl."

We kissed again passionately, and I led him to my bedroom. Unfortunately, we were pressed for time, so I really just wanted him to come with me to watch me pack. Honestly. No, really, that was my intention. Mick, however, had other ideas. If there's one thing vampires have mastered, I've discovered, it's the art of the quickie. He dispensed with both our clothes in a flash, then practically threw me onto the bed amidst my neatly folded clothes and open suitcase.

His mouth suckled my breasts, and he whispered between licks, "These taste like strawberries, too." I could only moan a reply. And then he thrust inside me, and I felt simultaneously the quick sting of his fangs as they punctured the underside of my right breast. But he only fed from me a little. His vampire instinct to feed during sex would never go away, but he had control of it now, and it was more of an enhancement to our passion. Besides, I really didn't mind it so much anymore, so long as he didn't always leave bite marks visible to the world.

He picked up the pace, moving those sexy hips in such a way that I was crying out his name in seconds, while he followed after with two deep thrusts and a cry of his own. We lay there a minute, recovering, my body still shaking with the aftershocks.

"Well, that was totally unexpected," I said into his neck. "You know, I just folded these clothes."

I looked into his eyes, noting how they were gradually fading from vampire silver to the color of a tumultuous sea.

"Sorry. I don't know what came over me," he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "It had to have been your strawberry kisses"—he looked down at my still-heaving chest—"among other things. Besides, who knows how long it will be until we have privacy to do this again."

I sighed, and he got up from me, his dread of the impending trip as tangible as my own, especially in light of the fact that we would be in close proximity but unable to do much with our RV-mates looking on.

"This is really gonna suck," I said, putting on my clothes again, hunting my bra amidst the mess we had made of my bed. I looked up to see him holding it by a strap, grinning as he stood there in just his boxers. I swiped it from him before he had the chance to play keep away with it, which would lead us back on the bed in no time.

"Well, that's the spirit," he said, with gentle sarcasm. "I mean, aside from the lack of privacy, it might be fun. I haven't done the drive across the country since Route 66 was the only way to do it. It will be interesting to see what's changed in fifty years."

"My parents and I did it once when I was a little girl," I told him. "It was probably the most boring trip I've ever been on. This was before the days of cell phones and iPods and Gameboys. All I did was read books and magazines until I was carsick, then switched on my CD Walkman. And my Dad would freeze us out with the air conditioning. It was endless miles of tedium."

He mock tsked at me. "You poor thing, with your Walkman and your air conditioning." He switched to his old man voice. "You young whippersnappers don't know what boredom is. Why, when I was a lad, we didn't have things like cell phones and iPods. Sometimes we didn't even have radio reception. So we did things like sing and play license plate games, or tell stories and jokes. And the desert in the heat of summer with no air conditioning—you don't know what tedium is." He finished dressing and helped me straighten the clothes again.

"I keep forgetting that you are so like, ancient," I said, using my best whiney teenager voice. I began packing again, while he lounged in the chair near my bed, watching me in amusement at how meticulous I was in lining up sleeves and fastening buttons, fully utilizing every empty space of my suitcase. I knew for a fact that he usually just threw things into a duffle bag, yet I have never seen him in anything rumpled or wrinkled. Must be a vampire thing. Super-human wrinkle resistance.

"Well, this is all for Simone and Josef," Mick said. "She's really excited about this trip, apparently, and you know how he would do anything for her. And, to tell you the truth, I can't resist seeing Josef confronted with the in-laws." He smirked at the thought.

I put my cosmetic bag into the little space I'd reserved for it. "Oh, God. What If he gets the mother-in-law from Hell?" I laughed. "Couldn't happen to a nicer guy. You know, suddenly this sounds like a lot of fun."

I'd finished packing my last few toiletry items, then zipped up the suitcase, just in time for a loud honk that literally made me jump. I went to the window and saw our monstrosity of a conveyance triple-parked in front of my building. Even so, part of it still hung out into the street.

Mick had come up behind me, his mouth at my ear as he looked past me to the giant silver-white Winnebago.

"Holy shit," he whispered in horror. Josef honked again, and we quit our staring. Mick grabbed my bag for me, while I ran around the condo, shutting out lights. I grabbed my tote bag and purse, and we locked up, then went down to the street to meet them.

Simone hopped down from the passenger side, moving almost too quickly to see to the shade of a nearby oak tree. It was still weird thinking that she was a vampire now, and had to avoid the sun.

"Oh, my God! Isn't this the most beautiful vehicle you've ever seen?" she exclaimed, taking my hand in a death grip.

"Hey!" I said, wincing as she squeezed. "Ease up, Simone. You're gonna break my hand." She let go immediately.

"I'm so sorry, Beth. I don't seem to know my own strength these days. But what do you think of our little prairie schooner?"

I laughed, more at her enthusiasm than at the metal beast before me. "It's uh, big," was all I could say.

"I know, right? I can't believe Josef went all out for this! I'm so excited that I'll get to see the country in such style and comfort."

She sounded like a Winnebago ad, and I didn't have the heart to dampen her spirits with how so over the top this was, even for Josef. She grabbed my hand again, more gently this time, and pulled me to the side door. Meanwhile, Josef had disembarked and met Mick in the shade of the tree.

"Should I call you Ishmael?" Mick asked, trying to keep a straight face when he saw the navy captain's hat Josef was sporting, along with Bermuda shorts and a khaki shirt with lots of pockets. I was afraid to look at his feet for fear he was wearing Birkenstocks.

"Nay, matey," replied Josef, in his best sailor jargon, "ye can call me Ahab, for I've harpooned the great white whale!"

Mick laughed. "It certainly is…great…and… white…"

The rest of their conversation was lost to me as Simone took me inside the RV for the grand tour.

TBC

A/N: So, what do you think??