For all his dismissive talk and anger, there was a genuine sentiment behind Cooper's words. He remembered very distinctly what it was like to be a young vampire and all the perils that had come with the territory. How he'd survived getting staked in his early years was more due to luck than anything else he'd done back in the nineteenth century. If Thomas was Islington, that made it one of Cooper's duties to make sure he didn't get staked at the earliest opportunity.

"Now, what to do with you?" Cooper narrowed his eyes, which then lit up with a glint that promised nothing that Thomas would like. He grinned, his fangs on prominent display. "I've got it! I command you to go home...and shave your head bald." Just about the only thing that Cooper had been able to pick up about this vampire (besides the fact he was as dumb as those bunnies that ran across the road right in front of cars) was that he was probably a vain little fucker. Men didn't usually care that much about shampoo and conditioner unless they were. He figured that was a just punishment for tangling with him.