Jack resisted the urge to check his burger for a pickle. He settled on an experimental bite, hoping the waitress wasn't paying attention. He had enough vampires and spooks in his life watching his every move, he didn't need to add questionable waitresses to the list. He also didn't need to feel as if a potentially supernaturally-aligned waitress wasn't a big deal.

No pickle, no surprise ingredients, just a perfect burger that left him wanting more. He eyed Kieran's plate, already planning on setting up a regular date night to get through the bar's menu. If he could get over his vampire problem, then this place had the potential of being his new bar.

It was quite possibly the dumbest idea he could come up with, so it was the perfect plan. What else could he do that was stupid?

"Is there a way to tell Augie I'm pissed at him without dragging anyone else into it?" he asked.

Kieran looked up with a raised brow. "You can write him a letter, and I'll see that he gets it the next time he shows up in the shop," he replied with an underlying maliciousness. "I'll help you write it."

"Without rubbing salt in the wound? I mean, don't get me wrong. I totally think fucking with my head is wrong, but the fact you guys seem to default to that? And even Benoit's all fine with it? It seems kinda…" Jack trailed off with a heavy sigh. "I dunno. I think I'm giving you guys too much leeway with this shit. I shouldn't be making excuses for you guys. There's something wrong with me. Why'd ya' do it, anyway? The couch one."

"Your scent is very enticing. At first, it was to get you to relax, then, well…"

The way Kieran trailed off set Jack on edge. "What?"

"Trust is hard for me. It started with my father, then my sire. Plenty of others as well. When I wish to know something, I ask."

"And make it so people can't lie. Wish I could do that," Jack said with a forced laugh. "So? That's not exactly an answer."

"It's not much of a reason, but I was protecting myself. I did not wish to enter a relationship with someone who…" Kieran looked away uncomfortably. "Who possibly did not have tastes that aligned with my own. And then I found out your scars were inflicted by another vampire against your will."

"Wait. You wouldn't date me if I was into BDSM?" Jack knew he shouldn't be offended, but the slight burn of anger crept up his chest. He knew his scars were a deal breaker for people, but not in the way Kieran has just implied.

"We would have had a very long conversation. Light spanking is a far cry from whipping and blood play," Kieran quietly explained. "I'm not opposed to a bit of bondage and teasing, but I do not enjoy inflicting pain upon those who are undeserving. And even then, I've little tolerance for the sounds of pain. Especially within the context of the bedroom."

"Uh-huh. And outside of the bedroom?" Jack's grimace matched Kieran's. He was getting better at reading between the lines, and he wasn't particularly proud of the fact.

"I believe in a quicker death. Although, some corpses are undeserving of respect," Kieran said, his voice dipping to a restrained mutter.

Jack had to have stumbled on a sore spot. An old argument was his best guess, but without knowing more about Kieran's circle of acquaintances, he couldn't land on whom it was with. Considering the era Kieran came from, stringing up a corpse at the city gate was probably normal. Or was it heads on pikes? Either way, it sent a message that someone with a more contemporary upbringing wouldn't be into.

His eyes narrowed as his train of thought poked a memory. "Oh, yeah… Why'd you have to go and get my bar shut down? And don't deny it. Messages being sent? I connected the dots."

"It's just as you say. There are ways vampires claim hunting grounds. I tend to hunt in areas with higher crime, and I have a habit of being rather flashy in my declaration, as some would call it."

His favorite bar had closed down thanks to Kieran. Granted, the owner was a shitty asshole and the world was probably a better place without him, but still. "I don't know how I feel about that."

Kieran nodded in understanding and breathed in slowly. "I am responsible for a few deaths in my attempt to keep you safe and punish those who hurt you," he said, closely watching for Jack's reaction.

Jack was both flattered and appalled. He was caught between a smile and frown, and he barely kept a nervous laugh from escaping. "Why would you tell me that?"

"You wanted honesty," Kieran replied in soft exasperation.

"Yeah, but…" Jack leaned back and searched his plate for an answer. They were supposed to be working through their differences and setting up solid ground for their relationship, not airing out the skeletons in Kieran's closet. "I'm friends with a homicide detective. Emphasis on homicide. Which you fucking committed!" he quietly hissed as he leaned forward. "Shit! I can't… He's gonna find out. My poker face sucks. Maybe being weird about you is a good thing. I'll just not talk?"

"I trust you." Kieran happily carried on with his lunch. He gave no outward care that anyone would overhear their conversation.

Jack chewed at his lip. He liked the world better when it had clear cut rules. "I mean… Okay, shitty people, but… Well, people say forgiveness is its own release or something, but knowing Farragut is dead and not coming back lets me sleep at night. So I think I'm a little biased in the vigilante murder spree department. It wasn't a murder spree, right? Sam was pretty busy in September."

"Aside from the bar owner, those I'm responsible for looked like accidents or self-inflicted."

He was dating a murderer. "Do I even wanna know how many?"

"Less than five."

So most likely four. "That doesn't make me feel better."

"I would say you're feeling marginally better," Kieran said, gesturing to Jack with his fork.

"Overall, yeah. I mean, I can't really judge you. I killed a guy and fucking tripped in his blood. I have a body count, and I can't talk about it with anyone. Except you, and you've killed people. For me. Which is weird." Jack ignored the bottle of ketchup and grabbed the mustard for his fries. After a moment, he grabbed the ketchup as well. Sitting as a glob next to his fries didn't remind him of blood as much as he thought it would. "Can you just get me flowers next time?"

"I would love to give you flowers," Kieran said, delighted at the prospect.

"You drink blood."

"I've been known to partake in a neck or two on occasion."

"Partake… Geez." Jack rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his beer to hide his small smile. He wished he could slip back into their relationship as easily as Kieran.