Disclaimers--The characters in this story don't belong to me, and I am not making a cent from any of this. So there. Thanks April, for your usual nifty beta-ing! ------------------------------- Tax Time another ball of fluff coughed up by Fenris 1/1, m/m implied, nothing explicit Nick noticed upon entering the club that the Raven was relatively slow tonight. He approached the bar where Miklos was pouring a house special for a pretty young woman who Nick didn't recognize, obviously flirting with her as he did. The Raven's newest owner looked up from his pleasant work and smiled at Nick. "Nicola! It's good to see you. Are you here for a drink, or just looking for himself?" Nick grinned and said with a touch of self-satisfaction, "The second one. I thought he'd probably be here." The Romany vampire nodded, then indicated the back of the club with a turn of his head. "He's back in the old office. Watch out, he's not in a good mood." Nick raised his eyebrows at that, then looked at the new arrival and nodded courteously to her, automatically flashing the attractive young vampire a disarmingly warm smile. "Hello." Miklos took the hint and cleared his throat, shooting Nick a mildly dirty look as he did. "Nicola, this is Anneke, she's just come into town. Anneke, this is Lacroix' son Nicholas." She dipped her head shyly, reddish blonde hair tumbling into her eyes, and gave Nick a soft, almost inaudible greeting. Then she looked back at Miklos, a slight hint of appeal in her eyes. Nick mentally revised her vampiric age from merely young to very, very young, probably new---and obviously unused to meeting vampires who gave off the psychic patina of age and power that both he and his sire possessed. She must have been paralyzed when she was introduced to Lacroix, Nick thought. He grinned at Miklos, and inclined his head to the silent young woman. "It's good to meet you, Anneke. Please, excuse me. I have some business to take care of." She nodded, smiling back at him, and murmured, "Thank you, Elder. I'm glad to meet you," then bent her head to study her drink. Nick turned and headed for the back of the club, chuckling softly. Lacroix would doubtless appreciate the girl's etiquette, if not her timid attitude. He wondered where she had learned it. Most of the young masterless fledges who gravitated to the Raven's shelter seemed unaware of the respectful deference that they would traditionally tender to elder vampires, much less displaying any. Well, it looked like Miklos was going to take the little lamb under his wing, so she should do all right, he thought. He headed down the familiar hallway toward the office Janette had set up years ago for taking care of actual business. The door was unlocked. Nick opened it without knocking and walked in, already very aware of who was inside and knowing that the room's occupant would be similarly aware of him. Nick stopped short and blinked in surprise. Lacroix had dragged a heavy table over to the row of file cabinets against the back wall and was standing on it, pulling papers out of one of a dozen or so banker's boxes lined up in rows on top of the cabinets. Several were torn open, and drifts of paper littered the floor. He turned toward Nick as his son walked into the room. Nick noticed that his customary icily calm exterior was looking a bit frayed. Usually immaculate, his black clothing sported several large dusty smears and a tiny ball of dust (what did Nat always call them--dust kitties?) perched insolently in his bristling pale hair. Smart enough not to be the one to call his master's attention to this development, Nick approached the old vampire in wary silence. His sire glowered down at him and said tersely, "You wouldn't happen to know where your sister would have stored any background information on this property, would you?" As he said it, Lacroix knew it was most likely a fruitless question. Neither of his two favorite children, in his opinion, had ever been particularly good about keeping orderly records about anything. They were many other delightful things, he knew. Beautiful? Yes. Clever? Yes. Elegant and fastidious? Positively. Organized? No. As he could have predicted, Nicholas gave him a confused look and shrugged. "No. Was I supposed to keep them?" Lacroix sighed. "No, Nicholas. You've been doing so many odd things lately that I thought it was possible you'd actually taken an interest in what became of the effects your sister--pardon me, your daughter---left behind. Other than the shiny ones, that is." Nick shot his master a black look, but there was no real menace behind it---Nick was in such a mellow mood that even Lacroix' habitual jibes couldn't disrupt it. He had been hoping to cajole the elder vampire into doing something more entertaining than rummaging in boxes of old business records tonight, though. "Why do you need to find background information on the club, Lacroix? Didn't Janette give you the deed?" "I'm not looking for the deed or the title, Nicholas. There are some other documents concerning the original title search which were---" Lacroix could see Nicholas' attention drifting as he spoke, and he cut the explanation short. "Let's just say it would save me a good deal of effort and expense if I could find them, oui?" Nick nodded in genial agreement, then perched himself on the edge of the table and watched his sire with interest as he returned to his unproductive search. Still rummaging through papers, Lacroix made a disgusted noise and tossed a pair of mens' silk bikini briefs over his shoulder. "You weren't missing those, were you, Nicholas?" "No!" With a barely concealed flicker of jealousy, Nick stooped and picked the briefs up, examining the handful of black silk closely. They weren't his. A strange look crossed his face, and after glancing up to make sure Lacroix wasn't watching him, he inclined his head and surreptitiously took a confirming whiff. He handed them back up to his sire. "They're yours." Lacroix looked up, brows furrowed and gazed into the distance. Apparently a memory suddenly clicked into place, because he murmured "Ah," and looked enlightened. Flicking a glance down into Nick's intently curious face, he gave his son a bland look, took the briefs and tossed them back into the box without a word. He then continued sorting through the box's contents. Already bored with watching Lacroix root through papers, Nick looked speculatively up at the side of his master's face. The increasingly irritated master vampire tore open another box and began sifting through yet another bundle of papers, completely unaware of the changing expression on his son's face. Nick's gaze drifted down the lean length of his sire's body, then back up. He paused to appreciate the way the seat of Lacroix' pants pulled taut as the old vampire stretched to reach farther into the box, clearly defining the tight, cleanly muscled lines of his buttocks. It was a pity that Lacroix favored wearing loose-fitting pants, Nick mused. He really did have a very nice rump. He glanced back up at his master, who was still absorbed in his task, muttering under his breath and sorting through another sheaf of disorganized papers. A yellow wash crept through Nick's eyes, chasing the deep blue away, and his smile broadened. His lips slowly parted and his fangs dropped down. He paused to savor the moment. Then he leaned forward and bit Lacroix soundly on the ass. Out in the club, Miklos and most of the other patrons looked up as a bellow of outrage issued from the back rooms, followed by a loud crash as if a heavy piece of furniture had been tipped over. Seconds later a grinning Nick hurried out of the back corridor, walking briskly toward the exit. As he neared the door, he raised a hand to Miklos and said loudly, "You're right, Miklos, he's not in a very good--" Nick broke off as a door slammed open somewhere in the back of the club. Looking a bit nervous suddenly, but still grinning, he broke into a run and was out the door in a flash. A disheveled and dusty Lacroix burst out of the corridor, cast a furious yellow glare around the room, then snarled at Miklos. "Where is he!" Keeping his expression carefully grim, Miklos pointed silently at the front door. Lacroix snarled and stormed across the room, tossing a few of the slower fledglings out of his way, flung the front door open and was gone. Miklos rolled his eyes and continued chatting up the astonished Anneke. Alma walked over to them, placed a tray of dirty glasses on the bar and sniffed, "Miklos, I liked them better when they hated each other." She bent to the floor and disdainfully picked up a dust ball left behind in the old vampire's wake. ----------------------------- It was a short and furious airborne chase. Lacroix had a slight edge on speed and stamina, Nick had a slight edge on agility and maneuverability. The elder vampire caught up with his son on top of a warehouse not far from the converted one serving as Nick's current home. They crashed down to the broad flat roof with bone-breaking force. For the next few minutes, the gravel-covered roof was an arena of swirling limbs and flashing eyes and fangs, overlaid with a medley of bloodchilling snarls as the two vampires fought viciously. Occasional sprays of gravel kicked up by their ferocious combat pattered down to the deserted parking lot below. To the casual onlooker it would have seemed like a no-quarter fight to the death. A vampire or a knowledgeable human, however, would have noticed the lack of any really serious damage inflicted by either combatant on the other. Eventually the older vampire got his son pinned to the ground on his back, Lacroix seated firmly on his stomach. They glared at each other, panting, each of them bleeding from a dozen or more assorted minor gashes and bitemarks. Suddenly Nick grinned impishly up at his angry mentor and started laughing. The laugh choked off when his sire placed large white hands around his throat and squeezed. After a moment, the hands relaxed and Lacroix snarled down into Nick's unrepentant face. Still chortling, Nick said, "I couldn't help it---it was an unexpected flank attack." For a moment, he thought Lacroix was going to simply put his hands back around his throat and throttle him into unconsciousness. Then an odd expression crossed his sire's face and he snorted a partially suppressed laugh and relaxed a bit. His full mouth quirked in an unwilling half-smile and he shook his head in disbelief, looking down at his impossible son. Nick grinned back up at him, inwardly giving a sigh of relief. Eyes narrowing, Lacroix reached down and drew his finger across Nick's chin, catching a dribble of blood that had trickled down from a now-healed split lip. Bringing it up to his mouth, he slowly and thoughtfully sucked Nick's blood from his fingertip, the angry yellow shine in his eyes warming to a darker golden hue. Holding his hand out, he regarded the clean, moistened fingertip and said casually, "So, Nicholas. You have my attention. What did you want to talk about?" As he spoke, Nick's hands crept slowly up the front of his master's shirt and his fingers wound around Lacroix' torn shirtneck. Slowly he pulled the unresisting Lacroix down toward him, and began to carefully lick the bloody streaks from his sire's face and neck. As he did, he murmured, "You know, I forget now. Anything you'd like to discuss?" Lacroix closed his eyes in pleasure as Nick's cool tongue slicked across his throat. He opened them again when Nick spoke and gave him a predatory smile, settling himself down more comfortably against his son's welcoming body. "Since you've brought the subject...up, amant, let's discuss flank attacks in a little more extensive...detail, shall we?" Nick smiled and nipped teasingly at the tender skin beneath his master's ear. Then he whispered, "As long as we can include demonstrations in the lecture, mon pere." Lacroix purred as Nick squirmed delightfully underneath him, and began to leisurely undo the buttons of his grinning son's shirt. "Oh, I think we can guarantee that, Nicholas." Ze end! comments to: fenris@ma.ultranet.com