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

"Lucien... What are you doing here?" Natalie murmured, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck as she found herself being floated to the second level of the loft. This was what she wanted, had hoped would happen, but could not help her puzzlement.

"You need to ask?" he asked with barely disguised amusement. He set her on her feet but kept his arms around her, his body tightly molded to hers. There could be no mistaking his obvious arousal.

"You let me leave. You let me think..." it was hard to hide the hurt she'd felt only a day previous. He had been so cold, so distant when she said good-bye. Yes, she could tell that he wanted her physically, but was there more to it? Could they have the relationship she wanted, or would her needs and desires always be subordinate to his?

"I was wrong," he replied softly, barely audible even to her vampire hearing. It was not a confession that he had any intention of repeating. It was not something that he would have ever told Nicholas, or Janette. His desire for Natalie went beyond a parent to a child. It was more akin to a lover, a spouse even. Yes, in the vampire world, he was her mentor, her master. In truth, he wanted more. He wanted her love.

Tangling his hands into her auburn curls, he kissed her with an intensity and fury not unlike the energy with which he'd destroyed his home. The emotion he'd felt when he thought he'd lost her was poured out into their lovemaking.

****

Curled against LaCroix, her hand resting on his chest, poised to catch the sensation of the slowly beating heart, Natalie raised a curious gaze at her lover. They had made love many, many times in the brief time since he'd brought her across, but never with the unrestrained passion of that night. For the first time since they began to share blood, she'd not felt the barriers. He was finally letting her see what he could not say. It still did not answer all of the questions.

"You didn't answer my question," Natalie remarked. "Not that I'm complaining that you're here, but I am curious. What happened?"

"I've made mistakes in my life," he began. His words were measured, even. He had tried to allow her to see through their link that he loved her. He had never been good at explaining his desires, hopes or dreams to anyone, much less one of his children. It was not his way. Perhaps, even an ancient could learn something. If he had any hope to mend the rift between them, it would come through words and deeds. The physical relationship was not enough for her. "I hope that I've not made a mistake with you."

"How can you say that? How can you think that?" she asked quickly, realizing that he had heard everything that she'd said. More than likely, he sensed it in their bond, just as she now felt the sorrow. Could it be that he was worried that she'd leave him?

"I feel your regret, Natalie. You've expressed your desire to return to your life, as it was." He turned to study her expression. "Am I wrong?" he prompted.

"No," she said quietly, letting her breath out with a slow whistle. "Lucien, you only did what I asked. If anyone made a mistake, it was me."

"Ah, but if you are having doubts so soon, then I have not shown you adequately what awaits you," he slid a hand around to caress her. He knew that Nick's regrets had surfaced as soon as he'd made his first kill. For that reason, LaCroix had been much more cautious with his newest daughter. Her lessons were the skills that made their lives easier. All the advantages, but none of the drawbacks. Yes, some were skills necessary for the hunt, but he'd not phrased it as such. She'd yet to take blood from a living source. She had not killed.

"Lucien, you've shown me more than enough." Her voice was firm as she stared up at the ceiling, refusing to give in to his seduction. "I want more. I refuse to treat my life as a plaything."

"That was never my intent." He sat up, pulling her to sit next to him. Before this disintegrated into another shouting match followed by one of them storming away, he would get her to talk. "I never imagined you as the type to spend eternity engaged in mindless pursuits, wasting time at clubs. There needed to be a transition period however before you could be around mortals. That was why it was necessary for you to resign your job and come to Paris."

"You told me that when we left Toronto the last time," she sighed. This was turning into the same argument. Again. "It's been six months. I want to feel useful. I feel like I am wasting time."

"Time is something that you have nothing to worry about," he said smugly. "Eternity gives you eternal possibilities. Is there nothing that you've wanted, and did not have time? Music? Art? Another area of study, perhaps?"

"Medicine," she said firmly. She knew how Nick dabbled in music and painting, but had never had similar desires. Medicine was all she'd ever wanted.

"Medicine, then." He agreed with obvious reluctance. He could only hope that she could be convinced to stay in a lab for a time. "You have a keen mind, and your enhanced senses will aid your work. It will not be easy for you to work in the coroner's office. A different specialty or less public venue might be prudent."

"So I can go back to work?" she asked, hopeful. She was only too aware of her reaction that evening at the Raven.

"I never said that you could not," he began. Touching a finger to her lips to silence her protest, he continued. "I merely urge caution. Perhaps *that* job is not the best one for you at the present. That is not to say that in a decade or two, you would not make a fine coroner again, in some other jurisdiction."

"In the meantime?" she asked, her mood darkening. He was being much more reasonable, but she still felt that her life was not her own.

"There are other possibilities. Other jobs. It is your choice, my dear. It has always been your choice." He tried to make his tone casual. He was not sure that she was in the proper frame of mind to consider the lab that he'd funded. Would she still regard that as manipulation? Her happiness had been his only motivation, and he hoped she realized it.

"Why do I not believe you?" she pulled her robe on and paced to the far corner of the room. As long as she had him talking, she was not going to fall into his seductive lure.

"You tell me. I've endeavored to be as truthful with you as possible." He leaned back against the pillows and watched her movement. "I have no regrets about the life that I chose to lead two millennia ago. I have no regrets regarding those with whom I've chosen to share this life. I had hoped that you would share my life unfettered by the guilt that plagued Nicholas. If you doubt my word, tell me."

"All right. I want the truth then. Let's lay all the cards on the table." She stood, and walked closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. Close, but not touching.

"Ask." The single word was almost a command. They stared at each other in the flickering candlelight. The electricity was palpable.

"Do you love me?"

End part 8