by Cousin Jules
OK, OK...I said that 'The Terrible Twos' would be my last bit of Val fic. This story just proves once again how we should never say things like that.<g>
Usual disclaimers - I'm only borrowing these characters and won't make a cent (Canadian or U.S.) off of my writing. ;(
Permission to Mel and anyone else to archive. Just make sure my name and
addy are included. This short bit of fic takes place immediate following (what else?) "The
Terrible Twos."
Thanks to Cindy, Shele and Lisa for not giving up when it came to pestering
me about this story! <g> If there's a reason it's dropping, it's due mainly
to them! :) Thanks, too, to the inimitable Noel Coward for the title, the
song and the inspiration...
********************* When the storm clouds are riding When the lovelight is fading When you feel your song When the wind and the weather - Noel Coward (c.1949)
Standing on the deck of the large ocean liner, Natalie watched as the lights
of the city began to fade into the distance. She had caught the red-eye from
Toronto straight to New York not long after departing the loft with the
knowledge that Nick was once again a vampire, brought across, no less, by
Lacroix. There would be no cure for him this time, at least from her hand.
The Enforcers had seen to that.
It had all gone downhill so quickly. How? That was the question Natalie
kept asking herself over and over and over again. It seemed only yesterday
that life had finally begun to sort itself out. Nick had his mortality, and
she had a content existence with the man once scorned and hated by both of
them. <'Strange, sometimes, how things turn out> she thought. The journey
she and Lacroix made to Toronto was meant to be a happy one. After all,
they'd be seeing Nick again, seeing his beautiful daughter - but it had all
gone so horribly wrong.
Natalie had not stayed for explanations when Lacroix and Nick returned to the
loft the previous night. All she needed to know, she believed, she had
already ascertained upon their arrival. Lacroix had brought Nick back
across, back to a life that he detested. Whether it was the control Lacroix
missed or the link to his 'son' or something deeper, Natalie couldn't say.
Perhaps, she surmised, it was a combination of all those things. Whatever
the case, the damage had been done.
On some level, guilt began to gnaw at Natalie's insides. She had been the
one who had pressed Lacroix into the visit back to Toronto, knowing all the
while how difficult it was at times for him to maintain control around Nick
in his mortal state. Yes, she had pushed, cajoled and pled with him, when he
would have been happier staying with her in Paris. Too late now, though, to
change things.
Suddenly weary, Nat turned her back on the now dim lights and walked to her
stateroom. She'd be drinking alone tonight; sleeping alone again, too.
Entering the interior cabin, she flipped the switch for the overhead lights
and tossed her key onto a bedside table. She spied the familiar green bottle
sitting with a solitary glass upon a coffee table and quickly moved to uncork
it and allow the rich dark liquid to fill the crystal. She savoured two
glasses of the bloodwine before she felt satiated and somewhat more relaxed
and capable of sleep. The idea of a shower came to her, but as the day began
to tug at the edges of her conscious mind, she chose instead to slip out of
her clothes and between the cool, clean sheets of her bed.
She lay there for some time, still, trying to stave off the thoughts and
feelings she'd been dwelling on all night, and the night before. Nick. A
vampire again, made so by Lacroix. And yet, there had been no animosity on
Nick's part towards his former and present master. In fact, it had looked as
if he had wanted her to stay...and to understand.
Understand? How could that ever be possible after all the years they'd spent
searching for a cure together? After the centuries Nick had sought the cure
on his own? After all the times they'd denied themselves intimacy so that
they could find a miracle? Perhaps, one day, she would understand...but not
now.
Natalie rolled over and onto her stomach, one arm at her side, the other
slung over her pillow, hiding her face, as if to protect her from something
she didn't want to see. It took awhile, but she gradually drifted off to
sleep, where dreams and memories rushed in, allowing her to escape reality
for a brief span of time...
**************
She was standing in the formal sitting room of their Paris townhouse,
watching through the windows as the full moon hovered over the extensive
garden. Sydney rose from a pile of cushions near the fireplace and walked
over to her, purring as he rubbed up against one calf and then the other.
Natalie bent down to pick him up.
"Hey, Syd...You think I don't care anymore?" she asked as she scratched his
head lightly, then planted a kiss on one ear. "Nonsense. If anyone's in the
doghouse - excuse my French - it's me."
Natalie and Lacroix had finally had an argument. A real argument. An
argument to end all arguments. But he shouldn't have been surprised that
she'd reacted as she had. She could never kill, not unless her life truly
*did* depend on it. Natalie needed no practice for that, she was sure, but
Lacroix had felt otherwise.
He had awakened before her that night, as he usually did, and she'd come
downstairs to find him pacing in the very room in which she now stood.
Something was obviously annoying him. He looked directly at her after she
entered the room...
"You need to learn to fend for yourself," he had said in clipped tones.
Slightly taken aback by the lack of greeting, she tried to answer
lightheartedly, "I've done that for a long time," then walked over to the bar
to pour breakfast for herself.
Lacroix stopped pacing and clasped his hands behind his back.
<Uh oh. He's going into his 'lecturing' mode...>
"Let me be more succinct, then" he added. "It's time you learned how to
hunt."
By some small stroke of luck, Natalie didn't drop the glass she now held.
Calmly, she set it atop the bar and spoke in a quiet voice. "I can't," she
said, then added more determinedly, "I won't."
"You must."
Natalie counted to ten. She knew Lacroix, and as much as she had come to
love him, she knew that once he had an idea in his head, it would take at
least seven centuries for him to yield to another possibility. No wonder
Rome had conquered the known world in his day.
"If it ever comes to that, I'm sure I'll be fine," she tried to reassure him.
He walked over to her and looked into her eyes. For a moment, she felt some
of the intimidation she remembered feeling as a mortal when, once or twice,
she'd found herself in his presence once.
"It's not a matter of 'if,' my dear. It is only a matter of *when*."
"Can I ask what brought all this on?"
His answer had been simple and swift. "I do not need to explain all my
actions, do I?"
"I'm not a child, Lacroix," Natalie responded, her voice having risen much
more loudly. "I think I'm entitled..."
"This is not a subject for debate," Lacroix interrupted.
Natalie reacted, more loudly this time. "The hell it isn't!!"
Things had deteriorated from there, and Lacroix had stalked from the house.
No doubt he'd gone hunting alone, or, perhaps, had stopped at the local
Community's version of the Raven for company. It was only about 30 minutes
before dawn when he finally made an appearance. Natalie could smell the
scent of a rather expensive perfume, and he had the look of satiation, and
something else, about him. She didn't want to think about what he'd done.
There were several possibilities, and she didn't like any of them. Hurt,
she'd said nothing, merely ascended the stairs and changed for bed. Having
wrapped herself in her dressing gown, she curled up in the window seat of
their bedroom, idly wondering from behind the drawn, heavy curtains how much
of the dawn she could tolerate at her 'young' age.
She heard footsteps in the hall, and shortly thereafter, Lacroix opened the
door and stepped into the room. He walked over to the window seat and sat
opposite her. She refused to look at him, merely traced an invisible design
on her knee. After a few, uncomfortable moments, Lacroix finally reached
over and covered her hand with his own elegant one. She was torn between
pulling away from him and taking him into her arms. Natalie naturally hated
being out of sorts with anyone she cared about, and the more she loved them,
the worse it always felt. She didn't look up at him when he spoke to her.
"You think I'm terrible for suggesting what I did tonight?" he queried.
Natalie didn't answer. He had to have known well and good, before he'd even
made his pronouncement, how she would react, yet he'd asked her anyway. As
the anger began to rise once more in her, she withdrew her hand, got up and
began to walk away from him. If she thought that was going to help somehow,
she was seriously mistaken.
"Do not walk away from me," he ordered as he rose to follow her. Catching up
to her, he took her by the arm and was about to turn her around, when she
beat him to it and turned on him, abruptly.
"Or?!" she half-yelled. "You'll what? Beat me? Just like you used to beat
Nick when he wouldn't do everything you 'commanded' him to do??"
She almost expected his eyes to turn gold in anger at her words, but,
instead, Lacroix let go of her arm, looking as though she'd just struck the
weakest place in the armour of his facade. He left the room without further
comment, closing the door behind him. A few moments later, and she knew he
had flown from the house to spend the day somewhere far from her side.
********************
When your life feels too difficult When you're heart feels as weary But when soon or late On the wings of the morning - Noel Coward (c. 1949)
When she awoke the next evening, she found herself annoyed for not having
kept better watch over her temper. While her anger may have been justified,
it really didn't do any good to say things which only added fuel to the fire.
Natalie rose and dressed, then made her way downstairs to feed Sydney. There
was no sign that Lacroix had returned. When she'd finished in the kitchen,
she was on her way to get breakfast for herself, when someone knocked at the
front door. She didn't know who it could be, though she sensed another
vampire on the other side. Opening it, she was somewhat surprised to find
Janette.
"May I come in?" Janette asked, a serious cast to her features.
"Um, yes, of course," Nat replied, stumbling a bit over her words. As
Janette passed, she caught the faintest scent of the perfume she remembered
from the previous night. It didn't make her feel any better. "I was just
about to have something. Can I get you anything?" she asked.
Janette shook her head, and Natalie motioned for her to join her in the next
room. "Please," she said, offering her a place on the settee. Her guest sat
down and settled against a cushion, spent a moment taking in her
surroundings, then returned her gaze to Natalie.
"Is there something you wanted to tell me?" Nat finally asked after an
uncomfortable silence had passed.
"There is," Janette answered, "though I'm loathe to say anything. I don't
like getting in the middle of these things. At the same time, I don't like
it when misunderstandings arise in my 'family'."
Natalie looked away as she planted her tongue firmly against one cheek and
then smiled. "He sent you, didn't he?"
"Lacroix? Non. In fact, he wouldn't like it if I were here."
"Oh, I see...So, why _are_ you here?" Natalie was growing more irritated as
the seconds ticked by.
"My dear, can you have lived among men for so long and not noticed their
vanity? If I waited for Lacroix to say anything to you, his bad temper would
surely tempt me to spike his bloodwine with curare, just to have a few
moments of peace," she explained.
Natalie rose from where she was sitting, and paced over to where Janette was,
clasping her hands in front of her. "I sure don't know what he's got to be
in a bad mood about. I'm the one who was asked to violate her conscience."
"He cares about you, Natalie..."
"He cares only about what he wants," Nat firmly interrupted.
Now it was Janette who stood and walked to the other side of the room. She
remained silent for a moment before turning and speaking. "Then you cannot
know him as well as I thought you did."
"Maybe I'm just beginning to see the real person," Natalie countered angrily.
"Hey, we know I'm not always the best judge of character."
"You've exchanged blood, Natalie. You know as I do what that means."
Janette looked a tad uncomfortable, but she continued on. "Such a deceit
could not be withheld after all the time you have...spent together."
Natalie sat down in one of the room's chairs and leaned back to stare up at
the ceiling. She suddenly felt so weary. "I thought I knew him, Janette.
How could he..."
"Ask you to learn how to survive as a vampire? Ask you equip yourself with
the knowledge you might need one day, should you find yourself alone and
without help?" Janette moved to Natalie's side and crouched by the chair.
"Was it so wrong of Lacroix to ask that of you?" she asked softly.
Natalie didn't respond at first, only looked as though she was trying to keep
herself from shedding tears. "He wants me to kill, Janette."
"Does he?" Janette contested. "Think back to the other night, Natalie. What
did he ask of you?"
"He _told_ me I needed to learn how to hunt."
"Hunt?"
"Yes," Nat confirmed.
Janette laughed silently to herself. "Well, now that I've spoken to both of
you, I see what the problem is."
"Excuse me?"
"To paraphrase the words of a certain movie character," Janette explained as
she rose to stand once more and placed her hands on her hips, "I think what
we have here is a 'failure to communicate.' Mon dieu, you would think that,
after all this time, immortals would learn what mortals could not, but it
seems that a change in life expectancy does nothing to help a relationship."
Her confusion growing, Natalie asked, "Would you please tell me what you're
talking about?"
"I'll tell you exactly what I'm talking about. Lacroix asked you to learn
how to hunt. You took that to mean that he intended on taking you out last
night and having you kill. Though one usually leads to the other, it does
not always follow that it will. Lacroix knows he has been lax in teaching
you the things you need to know to survive alone, Natalie. And can you
wonder why he might have been so adamant last night?"
Natalie sat up slowly, crossed her arms in front of her and unconsciously bit
her bottom lip. Seeing the pieces fall into place, she felt rather foolish.
She nodded her head, but didn't say anything.
"Yes, that's right, Natalie," Janette answered for her as she placed a hand
upon Nat's shoulder. "He loves you."
Natalie remained silent for another minute, before finally speaking. "Thank
you for coming here, Janette," she told her without looking up.
Janette nodded. "You're quite welcome. And now," she said with a whisper of
a smile as she walked to the door which opened onto the foyer, "if you'll
excuse me, I have a club to run..."
*****************
Lacroix returned home shortly after that. They looked at one another,
neither uttering a word for what seemed like forever. It was Natalie who
spoke first.
"I'm sorry," she told him as she took hold of his hands and looked into his
eyes. "I thought..."
"Yes, Janette told me," he broke in. "It seems that both of us could improve
our communication skills."
"I agree," Natalie laughed nervously. He still seemed...subdued, somehow.
And then she remembered. "What I said about you and Nick,..." Nat stopped
speaking as she saw him wince, then look away. She reached up to turn his
face back to her. "I was upset. I was hurting, and I wanted to hurt back.
I didn't mean it."
Lacroix smiled sadly. "I understand," he acknowledged as he released her
hands and walked past her. "Even so, it reminded me of actions that I regret
- and, at the same time, a part of my life I regret losing."
Natalie went to stand beside him. "I know," she said as she laid a hand on
his arm. They said nothing for a moment, only looked out across the garden
as she had done some days before. Lacroix finally broke the silence.
"I suppose we should have something to celebrate the 'end of hostilities',"
he joked drily, changing the subject, as he went to pull a bottle from the
room's wine rack.
"Actually," Nat said as she joined him at the bar, "while you were away, I
realised something." Lacroix raised an eyebrow in question. "You know how I
trust your judgment in picking a good vintage?" she inquired, while, at the
same time, taking the bottle from him and placing it back in the rack. She
received another lifted eyebrow. "Yes, and, I realised that, given the
choice," she continued as she ran her hands along the front of his silk shirt
and over his shoulders, "that I'd _really_ rather have, oh, I don't know,
something more, oh,...natural, as opposed to this prepackaged, 'processed'
stuff." Her words were accompanied by a slight crinkling of her nose in
distaste.
Picking up on her intended meaning, Lacroix gave her a knowing glance before
capturing her mouth with his own. When she was finally allowed to come up
for air, she managed to ask, "So, are you going to tell me just how you
survived without me the past few days?"
"Jealous of someone?" he asked, then proceeded to nuzzle a rather sensitive
spot on her neck.
"Just remember one thing," she said, avoiding his question. It was becoming
more difficult to stay coherent. "And I hope I'm making myself perfectly
clear..."
"Mmmmm?" He was about to kiss her again when she put two fingers on his
mouth and stopped him.
"I don't care where you get your appetites," she explained as she took her
fingers away and gave him the briefest of kisses, then began to slowly
unbutton his shirt, "as long as you always come home for your meals..."
*****************
Natalie awoke from her dream and looked over at the clock beside her bed.
Noon. It had been a nice memory - one she wished she had been allowed to
stay in. But that was the past and this was the present...a very unhappy one
at that. Where would it end? She didn't know. Maybe someday, she'd have
her answer. Maybe one night, when the moon rose over the garden...
End Part 02/02
*****************
Sail Away
by Cousin Jules
c. 1999
Through a winter sky
Sail away
Sail away
In your sweetheart's eye
Sail away
Sail away
Is orchestrated wrong
Why should you prolong your stay?
Blow your dreams sky high
Sail away
Sail away
Sail away
To rise above
Sail away
Sail away
As a worn out glove
Sail away
Sail away
You recognise your fate
That will be your great, great day
With your own true love,
Sail away
Sail away
Sail away...
Comments, cheers and, well, I don't have to tell you (now, do I?<g>)
gratefully received at: KnightGal@aol.com
