This is the sequel to the first Round Robin, and is currently being posted to the FK Vals list.
Standard disclaimers apply.

Natalie let herself be led blindly into the backroom of the Raven, keeping her eyes firmly closed as the vampire within took a hold of her. She was shocked, mortified. This had never happened before! But then why would it? She had never really been around mortals much. Even in Paris, Lucien had always been with her or close at hand when out and about. And the blood...fresh, human blood. The sweet, alluring scent filled her being, even now, where she could no long see it running languidly down the woman's hand or taste its heavenly flavor upon the air.

"Here, this will help, cherie," Janette stated, thrusting a full glass of blood into her hand. Natalie drank it in one swallow and Janette quickly refilled the empty glass for it only to be drained several times more before the golden tint to her sister's eyes had subsided. Natalie sighed.

"What happened?" she asked the woman softly. She felt compelled to ask, even though she was scared stiff of the answer.

"You lost control, Natalie. You should have known not to be so clumsy as to approach an injured mortal, oui?

"Oui..." Natalie sighed. She had the distinct feeling this had been one of her lover's infamous...life lessons.

"Oh, god, Janette! What am I going to do?!" she almost wailed at the realization that her whole life here in Toronto was not going to be as she had planned...ever. How could she go to work at the morgue, when she couldn't even control herself over a simple cut finger? Paper cuts 'could' prove fatal to her staff. She sat down heavily on the couch and covered her face with her hands. Could she even be around mortals at all? Would she have the desire to snack every time Grace walked into the room? And damn it! He had known! She blustered mentally for a few minutes before calming slightly and sighing again. She would never have believed him, not completely. She had thought she could do this, control the vampire, the desire to feed...apparently it wasn't at all like giving up chocolate. Oh, chocolate! How she missed it.

She hadn't even realized she was crying until she felt an arm around her shoulders.

"Shh. Natalie. It will be all right. It will get easier with time. The hunger will become more controllable. But for now you are young, un enfant, still learning to be a vampire, unable to control ones instinctive urges."

"Everything changes, Janette...it's too much...I have lost everything," she whispered, raising her head to look desperately into the other's eyes. "What have I done?" she gasped.

"Natalie, do not fret so. We are your family now, your life. Let us guide you...let 'him' guide you..."

"No," Natalie shook her head forcefully, rising to her feet. "I will not let him run my life or choose it for me!" She spun back to Janette, who merely sat back and watched her new sibling voice her rebellion. Natalie was a strong-willed and stubborn woman. Her father certainly had his work cut out for him. You would have thought he'd have learnt a thing or two with Nicolas...

"I will not become a pawn for him to play with as Nick was," Natalie continued to growl.

"Enough!" Janette rose to meet the pacing vampire, her eyes blazing as she lost her patience at last. "Granted, Lacroix and Nicolas have had their moments, but Lacroix always did what he thought was best for Nicolas! He has changed, Natalie...you have changed him! But you can not expect a man of Imperial Rome to reshape himself overnight! He can only bend so far...you must meet him halfway or you will both snap and break under the strain of your stubbornness!" Janette had placed her hands on her hips and had pinned Natalie to the spot with her demand. And she wasn't finished. "And I, for one, have no wish to be pulled into yet another relationship such as Lacroix has with Nicolas! One is quite enough, s'il vous plait!" Janette span away and stalked to the wetbar to pour herself a drink and gulp it down. Natalie stared after her, stunned at the outburst. She had never seen Janette so forceful before.

"Janette...I...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..."

"No, do not say it...you will always be welcome to speak your mind with me...but I will speak mine as well, ma cherie, comprezned tu?"

"Oui, ma soeur," she answered submissively. Sighing again, she pulled herself back together and straightened her shoulders, regaining some of her usual confidence. She was glad she had not pushed Janette away, because although they were like chalk and cheese, she was a woman Natalie would like to get to know better. After all, they only had each other when it came to being not only a vampire, but a female.

Janette escorted Natalie back to the town house she and Lacroix were residing in.

"Janette...," Natalie said, turning on the steps to face her. "Thank you." She gave the graceful woman a small, genuine smile, which she returned with a nod before glancing around and taking to the sky once again, leaving Natalie to confront her sire and lover alone.

Natalie gently opened the door, ashamed of her failure at something she had told everyone she could control, even though she had been told otherwise. She had not believed him, nor respected his knowledge as she should have. Her lust for him had shadowed her good sense, and now she was paying the price.

She hoped to slip up to her bed before he had noticed her arrival, but he called to her as she passed by the living room.

"Natalie." His tone gently ordered her into the room. She bowed her head and clutched her hands as she moved into his view.

Lacroix watched her enter. He had felt her torrid emotions tonight and had guessed as to what had occurred. It had only been a matter of time. He rose to his feet and moved toward her. He paused a moment before wrapping his arms around her and holding her to his chest.

"Natalie, your belief in yourself was stronger than even I could battle with mere words alone," he told her.

"Forgive me," she whispered into his chest. He pulled her tighter and she finally relaxed and returned his embrace, sliding her arms around his waist.

Though he kept it from her, he was resigned to a certain few facts about their life together. He had dared not taste her blood as he laid her to bed. It would have been an unnessesary, and painful experience. He already knew the answer to his questions.

She did not love him enough to feel satisfied with her new life. All this time he had been deluding himself that she could ever feel that way about him...after all, she still loved Nicholas...

Standing before the large bedroom window, a finger to his lips, he frowned. The sun was beginning to rise, the sky rapidly lightening, but still he stood there. The rays blasted across the horizon, and he allowed their searing bite for a long moment before he pulled the heavy curtains into place and turned to his lover.

Though she was his daughter, his child, he did not regard her as such, not as he did Janette and Nicholas. His feelings for the good doctor were far from paternal, so much so that he denied even himself complete honesty on the matter.

He stared for hours, until his heavy eyes finally sought out the empty space beside her, and he shed his clothes and slipped beneath the blankets. But he did not draw her to him as he usually did. The alluring touch was too much to bear...it distracted him from doing what he must do.

He had to let her go. If he did not she would come to despise him just as his son now did...and he, for one, could not bear such a relationship again. So, once again he must show his love by leaving. <After all...it is the purest form of love, is it not?> he though bitterly, his mood turning cold and sour. He needed it to be as such--it was the only way he was going to be able to do what he must.

Shiftng to glance briefly at her sleeping form, he turned away again and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would take him quickly. It didn't. Morpheus be damned.

Natalie woke. She felt the body beside her and turned to see the unusual sight of her sire still fast asleep. She had never risen before him. She glanced at the bedside clock, thinking it must be early, but it was long after sundown and she, for one, was hungry.

Rising gently, so as not to wake him, she pulled on her robe and slipped downstairs into the kitchen.

Sipping from her mug, Natalie entered the living room and curled up on the couch. A few minutes later she heard sounds of life coming from the bathroom. She thought about joining him, but she felt strangely unwelcome, not something she usually felt coming from her sire; in fact, it was usually quite the opposite.

As the hot water flowed over him, Lacroix stood still. He had begun. His plan to pull away from his lover, first emotionally, then physically, was underway. He would eventually have her move into the now empty loft. He sighed. She would need Nicholas. And he would have to find him. It shouldn't be too difficult; it never had been in the past. He snarled silently as his mood darkened, his anger coming to the forefront. He should just leave her, and be damned with the consequences!

The emotion fled as quickly as it had come. But he could not. He had made a promise to protect and guide her, and his word was, apparently once again, all he had...

How had this become such a mess? His plan...his wish for Natalie to fall in love with him was apparently over, and here he was once again alone with nothing but an ungrateful son and a regretful daughter to show for it. And Janette...his first daughter was becoming obtuse, not something he was used to seeing in his Raven, but it was good for her to show her true strength rather than do what was expected of her. But still...where did that leave him in her life? She no longer needed him.

The water began to chill. He turned the taps off and stepped out to finish dressing.

As he stood fully dressed before his bedroom door, contemplating his desire to join Natalie downstairs to further implement his plan, he felt a tightening in his chest, but just as quickly forced it away. He would have to convince not only Natalie that he didn't love her...want her, but also himself.

He shook himself and yanked open the door to go to his office to place a call to Aristotle before finally entering the living room.

Natalie frowned. He was angry with her. But what for? Losing control at the Raven? Not allowing him to guide her as she should have? Having not believed him when he told her she was too young to have any contact where mortal blood was involved? What?

She was becoming more confused and upset as the days passed. He said nothing, just remained polite and unobtrusive...aloof to a fault. He refused to touch her, and he had begun sleeping in the guest room. She had asked him why and he had just lifted an eyebrow in that damnedable, arrogant way he had and told her that he preferred to be there. Nothing else. He would then turn away or leave the room if she pursued the subject. She was slowly but surely becoming furious.

He would take her for her lessons each day, then leave her to do her own thing. No longer interested in her activities or plans for the future. Something was wrong...very wrong, and she was determined to find out what it was. Even if it killed her.

"Lucien?" she quietly bid his attention from the doorway of the living room. He turned in his chair and lowered his evening paper.

"Yes?"

"What's going on?" she asked softly.

"On?" He lifted his eyebrow and feigned innocence.

"You know what I mean. Why are you ignoring me? Have I done something wrong?" she asked him calmly, determined not to let her emotions get the better of her this time.

"Of course not, my dear," he replied off-handedly, resuming his perusal of his newspaper. But she wasn't going to back down tonight, not until it was over.

"You are lying to me," she dared to whisper. He heard. Natalie didn't see him move, but suddenly he had her by the throat and up against the wall, pictures falling to the floor with a crash. Natalie grunted and flinched as he snarled into her face. This was the catalyst he had been waiting for. The final push, as it were, in his little war of survival...his, hers....but mainly his.

"You dare to make such an accusation?!" he spat, his eyes glowing fiercely, making an effort not to let her go and hold her as a look of absolute fear came across he face and tears began to fall. Why must it always be like this?! he cried to himself. He snarled again and pulled her away from the wall, only to push her back with a thud as he demanded an answer.

"Yes," Natalie gasped. Her mind had been made up to stand before him tonight, no matter what he did. She had to know why he no longer desired her, wanted her...loved her.

"You ungrateful wench!" he snarled at her, but even so his grip on her throat eased. He saw the fire burn into her eyes as he flung the curse at her.

"You bastard!" She shot out a hand and slapped him a lot harder than she had intended to. He took a step back from the force of the blow, but spun back and raised his fist to backhand her. But his hand went no further, when he saw the fire in her eyes die, and the look of shock and disbelief cloud her beauty. His hand froze in mid swing. He looked up to his raised hand and back to his lover. He had promised himself he would treat her differently, not as he had conditioned his children before her. But still, he had been about to hit her. Something he knew would tear her from him forever. It would change everything.

He lowered it slowly, and after staring into her eyes for a moment, he spun from her and strode from the room.

Natalie watched him go. She couldn't believe what had almost happened. Granted, she had hit him first, but it had been a mere slap, nothing like the blow he had been about to deliver upon her. She sat down, falling into the closest chair. Only then did she recall the look in his eyes as he had realized what he had been about to do. He had shocked even himself. And the expression in his eyes just before he had left...regret? Desire? Natalie realized she had to find out. They had to confront this problem tonight, no more time could pass before they dealt with whatever it was that was tearing them apart.

Climbing the stairs, she gently opened the door to their bedroom. He was packing a suitcase which lay open on the bed. She watched him move efficiently about the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing."

"Why?"

"I am leaving."

"Why?"

"I need no reason."

"No?"

"No."

"I beg to differ."

"Oh, you do?" Lacroix halted his movements and raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"Yes." Natalie raised her chin and met his eye.

"And why is that, my dear," he asked calmly, while silently cheering her bravado.

"Because I deserve to know what is going on with you. I thought we had a special relationship, you and I, but apparently I was wrong." She paused before saying quietly, "I thought you loved me."

"Indeed," he said coldly, casting his eyes to the suitcase, least she see differently.

"Oh." Her voice shook as she whispered the response. She watched him for a while longer, his poise remaining ridged and cold. Finally she spoke quietly.

"This is your house, Lacroix. There is no reason why you must leave." Natalie began packing her own suitcase. Lacroix fought the urge to unpack it, to forcefully place her clothes back into the drawers she shared with him...where they belonged.

"Very well, " he said in his same apathetic tone, giving her little argument, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I suppose Nick won't mind if I use the loft for a while..."

"No, I am sure he would not," he mumbled, the tightness in his chest increasing with every item she put into her case. But this was for the best. It had to be... He closed his eyes as she turned away from him to gather more items from the dresser. His poise sagged for a moment but quickly forced itself upright again, before he silently withdrew from the room as she finished gathering her belongings.

He stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed the first bottle he found and chugged the contents. He hid the empty in the sink as Natalie came down the stairs and stood in the doorway, placing her bag in the hallway floor.

"Well, I guess this is it," she said.

"Indeed." He held one hand against the sink to keep him in place, preventing him from going to her, pulling her into his arms and making love to her on the kitchen floor. She did not love him and had no wish to cherish the gift of life he had given her. She despised what she was and what he had done to her. Her regret at choosing this life was evident, and he could not live in such a relationship again. Nicholas had kicked the fight out of him in that regard.

"Goodbye, Lucien," she whispered. Natalie stared at the silent man. Her sire...her lover. He remained still and cold, waiting for her to leave. So she did. Turning and lifting her suitcase, she straightened her shoulders and strode to the front door and the night beyond.

He had not trusted himself to speak a final farewell, and now, as he heard the front door close, he sank to the cold tile floor, leaning back against the cupboards, his breathing quick and irregular. He stared at the fridge door. Steel, cold, empty...just like him. Just as he wished it to be. <Lair!> he silently screamed.

Lacroix pushed himself to his feet and stepped toward his stock of bloodwine. He opened a crate and tugged the cork from a bottle. He drank it down, forgoing a glass, just as he had the first...then opened another. He drank until he could no longer physically drink any more.

Stumbling into the living room, he collapsed on the couch. The room swam before him, and he frowned as his body felt numb. But he felt cheated yet again...for his heart still beat, and with every thump of his heart, pain coursed through his veins. He picked up the lamp beside him and slammed it against the far wall. The shattering, for a bitter instant, made him feel alive, his anger and rage at his loss, his betrayal, came rushing forth, and he picked up the coffee table and sent it to meet the lamp.

Piece by piece he destroyed every item in every room in his house. All of it.

Natalie touched down onto the roof of the loft. Entering through the skylight, she disabled the alarm from within and began to unpack her belongings from her case into the drawers in Nick's bedroom. Everything was still here. The furniture, the knickknacks. Nick's paintings...But no Nick. She missed him. He had been her best friend for years. She hadn't even spoken to him in months. Hadn't even known he had left Toronto. She went downstairs and turned on the television. She sat for a moment on the familiar black sofa and very soon after, she began to cry. Tears, heavy and torrential, slipped down her face. There was no stopping them.

What had gone so wrong? Damn it...she loved him! Natalie looked up from her hands, as she thought the words. <Love?> she asked herself. Did she really love Lacroix? The answer was unwavering and absolute. Yes.

But what now? He didn't love her, or at least he no longer did. Had she become so boring so quickly? She didn't understand. Not one thing did she know about Lucien Lacroix. Had she been so wrong in what she had thought? She had been sure he had loved her. But was this all some sick game he was playing? Could Nick have been right all this time?

She sobbed again and rested her weary head against the pillow. When sleep finally took her, it brought with it nothing but restless slumber.

End part 6