From: Michele Freemon Greetings and Salutations! In celebration of the gift of a full third season of Forever Knight, and in fulfillment of that vow I never got around to posting, I have (finally) finished my first FK slash story. *And* I am posting it! If that don't keep the programming gods happy... ;^) Warning #1: It's sappy! Very sappy! If you don't like mush, delete this now. You *have* been warned. Warning #2: The only 'juicy bit' is in part two. Of course, it is pretty much *all* of part two, but still. Warning #3: The divisions are purely arbitrary, so make sure you've got 'em all before you read it. Otherwise, storius interruptus may set in. Mucho thanks to my beta reader and best friend, who puts up with these even though my attempts to bring her across have been (so far) unsuccessful. 'Very Victorian.' In*deed*! ;^) As always, FK characters belong to Parriott and company. I just play with them now and then. (Have more fun with 'em, too. ;^) ) Comments, constructive criticism, requests for missing bits, virtual chocolate, offers of erotica, or erotic offers cheerfully accepted at: jacie@eden.com Icy Memories (1/4) A Forever Knight Song Challenge Story by J. Michele Freemon copyright 1995 based on: 'What You Stole From Me' by Tom Kimmel ***** Liege, Belgium December, 1981 --- It was last year, in December, on a night much like this one In fact, way too much like it for me When the snow fell on the rooftops and a soft rain soon followed And the town closed to sleep off the freeze --- Lucien twirled the wineglass in one hand and stared out his lone window into the dark, frigid evening. The light from the nearly-full moon played hide and seek amongst the speeding clouds. His gaze fixed on it, as he absently admired the patterns the reflected sunlight painted. A heavier patch of clouds scuttled across the sky between the earth and the moon. He caught a faint scent of snow in the air. Another year, another winter, another snowfall. With all the advances in their technology, the mortals could still be paralyzed by a simple act of Mother Nature. He lifted the glass to his lips, wondering if the city would be shut down tomorrow. It had been last year at this time. His lips twisted into a scowl as he spun away from the window, flinging himself down into a black leather armchair. He refilled his glass from the bottle at his elbow and lifted it to the light, twirling it so the ruby liquid swirled. He studied the glints intently, trying to keep his thoughts from straying. He took a sip of the warm blood, letting the salty taste linger on his tongue, trying desperately to stay in the present, not to drift back, back to the night a year ago, the last time they'd lain together, tangled in the silk sheets on Lucien's black iron bed. He glanced at the phone, half-urging, half-dreading its ring. The same tinny tone that began it that night, the last time his lover, his Nicholas, had come to him. ***** Liege, Belgium December, 1980 --- When you called me, you were nervous, but you hid that in anger That's how you so often come clean But the sad part and the truth is you imagine it's righteous But it's just how you cover your grief --- LaCroix was staring out the window at the snowfall, his thoughts swept along in the currents of his river of memories, when the phone rang. Lost somewhere in the early 1500's, he jumped, sloshing blood down the front of his outfit. He stalked over to the phone, cursing modern technology in an inventive combination of languages, and snatched up the receiver. "What?" he demanded, his tone cross as he brushed an ineffectual handkerchief at the spreading stain on his clothes. "LaCroix?" The voice on the other end of the line was hesitant, almost shaky. Lucien's hand stilled on his shirt. "Nicholas. How are you?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual. Lucien thought he heard longing tinge Nick's flat tone as he confirmed his suspicions. "It was you, then." He gave Lucien no chance to respond before he burst out angrily, "Dammit, LaCroix! Can't you leave me alone?! Why are you here!?" Lucien took a moment to ruthlessly quash his feeble hope. His resigned reply died in his throat as Nicholas's growl came to him again. "LaCroix? Are you still there?" The desperate camouflage of ragged anger did little to hide the naked yearning cowering below. "Yes, Nicholas. I'm here." Lucien's voice betrayed only the barest hint of his own suddenly reawakened eagerness as he gently inquired, "Perhaps you could join me? We could... discuss it?" The flat tone returned to Nick's voice, his anger and isolation once again subsiding, or at least hidden, as he asked for and received LaCroix's address, then hung up without a goodbye. Lucien rushed to his bedroom and tore off his soaked shirt and trousers, electing not to dress again, merely pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms and a luxurious silk robe. He was just tying the belt when the doorbell rang. Lucien jerked open the door, a little too eagerly perhaps, and Nicholas stalked into the small apartment. He glanced around, then commented dryly, "A little Spartan for your tastes, isn't it, LaCroix?" "It serves its purpose." He moved to the bar and poured two glasses, turning to offer one to Nicholas, who accepted it with an absent nod, moving to the window to gaze out over the city. He took a sip, then sighed and turned back to face Lucien. "Why are you here?" he asked in a resigned voice. He sounded almost forlorn, an edge of angst creeping into his words. "Why can't you just let me be? Leave me in peace for once." One eyebrow rose and Lucien sipped from his goblet, running his tongue over his full lips before answering. "But Nicholas, I have not bothered you. Have I?" His own voice took on an edge of sadness. "You wouldn't even have known I was here, if you hadn't seen me come out of that bar this evening." "Are you telling me that it was an accident? A coincidence?" Nicholas's tone betrayed his doubt at the scenario and Lucien's head snapped up. "Yes, Nicholas. That is exactly what I'm telling you. I was there looking for a night's diversion, nothing more." He took another sip, his eyes never leaving Nick's. "Why did you leave so early, then?" was the suspicious response. Lucien raised one shoulder in a languid movement. "It was not diverting." "And you wouldn't even have -tried- to get my attention? You truly aren't here because I am?" Confusion and... was that hurt in his tone? LaCroix's own emotions were masking those of his protege. It was Lucien's turn to stare out the window. His eyes closed on the view and he answered in a voice as grey as the clouds scuttling across the crescent moon. "Of course I'm here because you are, Nicholas. To be close to you. But I was also determined to leave you alone, if such was your wish. Don't you imagine I get tired of chasing you? If once only you would not run..." He turned to face the younger vampire and quirked a desolate half-smile. "But that will not happen, will it?" Nicholas gazed steadily at his master, trying to gauge the truthfulness of his answer. Lucien's eyes were equally steady, for once hiding nothing from his child, and Nicholas suppressed a gasp at the melancholy and desire reflected in the pale blue orbs. "But... Why -me-? Why not Janette? She would welcome you with open arms, you know that." Nick spread his arms in confusion. "True." LaCroix nodded slowly, considering. "And she has done. But she is... not you." Nicholas stared down into his glass. His glance up was hesitant, but his voice was that of a district attorney conducting a crucial cross-examination. "Not me. Your culture prized love between men, didn't it? Did you tell me that once? Is it just that she's not a man?" "No." Nick waited a moment, then burst out, "No? That's all? Just no? That doesn't tell me a damn thing, LaCroix! Not what you were raised to believe? Not what you told me? Not the reason? Why do want me with you when it's obvious I want to be elsewhere?" ***** Dec, 1981 --- You ask how I am and I'm keeping you guessing With some lies even I don't believe But I've shut down in rage and I've raged in my sorrow I'm still trying to pay for what you stole from me --- LaCroix was jolted from the uninvited flashback by the insistent ringing of the telephone. He grimaced at the instrument, knowing who it would be even before he answered with a terse "Yes?" Nicholas sounded grudgingly concerned. "LaCroix? Are you... that is, how are you?" Lucien reflected on the irony. That one glorious day had strengthened the bond between them, to the extent that Nicholas could sense his melancholy, as strongly as he could sense Nicholas's ambivalence. He suppressed the anger and confusion that bubbled up at Nick's phone call, the only contact between them in a year. Lucien had been unhappy before, perhaps far more unhappy, in fact. Why was Nick calling tonight? His response was stiff and cold with suspicion. "I am well. And yourself, Nicholas?" Nick dismissed Lucien's query distractedly. "Me? Fine. Fine. But I thought I... I mean... Are you sure you're all right?" Lucien's tone dropped well below the freezing point. Despite its lack of heat, his anger was potent enough to dispel, for the moment, his hopefulness. "And if I weren't? Would you care, Nicholas?" A brusque sigh followed close on the heels of his infuriated question and his voice was once again flat as he dismissed Nick's concerns. "Forget it. I'm fine, Nicholas. Thank you for your concern." He did not wait to hear the reply, but replaced the receiver with a soft click before spinning and hurling his half-full wineglass against the far wall, his hurt and rage not at all diminished by the futile gesture. He left the mess for the evening and stalked into the bedroom, flinging himself onto the bed. He glared up at the ceiling, wondering yet again why he stayed in Liege. Nicholas obviously did not desire his presence. Perhaps he should go find Janette... Then his mind slid inexorably back to that morning and he knew he could not leave, that he had to be near his love, his Nicholas, even if there wasn't a shred of hope that they would again be close in the one way he truly desired. ***** Dec, 1980 --- So your promise, was it nothing? Was it your good intention? Was it only a figure of speech? Was it real for a moment, or did the moment have meaning? Was it lost in the folds of our sheets? --- Lucien glanced out the window at the gentle snowfall that had begun to blanket the rooftops and spoke so softly Nick had to strain to hear him. "Why? I don't know..." His voice rose and he gestured toward the lightening sky with his wineglass. "If you truly want to be elsewhere today, Nicholas, I'd suggest you go now. It is almost daybreak." Nick started, realizing that he had not registered the approach of the dawn, that LaCroix could have let him be trapped here for the day, that he hadn't. Nick pondered that for a moment, then set his barely-touched blood down on a small endtable and moved to join Lucien at the window. He gently pulled Lucien's own half-full wineglass from his grasp and set it on a convenient bookshelf. He raised his hands to Lucien's shoulders and turned him to face him. In a quiet voice he asked again, "Lucien. Why me?" Lucien stared into his eyes for a long moment, then sighed and reached a hand to graze Nick's cheek. "Because, Nicholas, it is you I love. You, my gallant knight." For once the words held no trace of sarcasm, only simple truth, and it cut to Nick's core like a perfect dive through a crystal clear pond. "Ah, Lucien," came the soft rejoinder, then Nick leaned forward and brushed Lucien's lips with his own soft ones. Lucien let himself be lost in the kiss for a moment then pulled away abruptly. He took several steps across the floor and stopped, his head bowed with the weight of his despondency. "No, Nicholas." Nick's voice betrayed his confusion. "But... I thought..." "I can't do this again. To have your love for a day, then your hatred in the evening... I can't. Not again." Lucien's voice was dejected, but determined. (continuous to part two) Forever Knight is in danger of being cancelled! | J. Michele Find out what you can do at: | Freemon http://members.aol.com/CuznJamiMR/SaveForeverKnight.html | Cousine on Or email me: jacie@eden.com | the Warpath! Date: Sun, 7 Jan 1996 15:37:45 -0600 (CST) From: Michele Freemon Subject: Icy Memories (2/4) Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Ok, get comfortable, here's the smut! ;^) Comments, constructive criticism, requests for missing bits, virtual chocolate, offers of erotica, or erotic offers cheerfully accepted at: jacie@eden.com Icy Memories (2/4) A Forever Knight Song Challenge Story by J. Michele Freemon copyright 1995 Nicholas moved up behind his master and wrapped his arms about the older vampire's waist. He hid his face against Lucien's shoulder, his voice soft but firm, carrying his conviction. "I choose this of my own accord, Lucien." Nick grinned against the smooth fabric, amusement warming his tone, "I promise I'll still respect you in the evening." Lucien stiffened at the first touch, then moaned deep in his throat at Nick's soft words, allowing himself to relax back into the embrace, filled with a hope he knew was irrational. After several long moments, he turned in Nicholas's arms and placed a hand on each of his cheeks, leaning down to nibble at Nick's lower lip. Nick's lips curved into a smile against his sire's and one hand came around to tug at the belt of Lucien's robe. The sensuous material fell open and Nick's hands slid under each lapel, searching for the taut nipples and tweaking them with his thumbs. Lucien groaned again and bent down, wrapping one arm around Nicholas's back, the other behind his knees. He carried his lover into the bedroom with long, impatient strides and laid him tenderly on the black silk sheets covering the wrought-iron bed. He gazed down at Nicholas for a long moment, then shucked his robe, sitting beside Nick, who sat up and removed his jacket, carelessly tossing it onto the floor. Lucien reached out and began unbuttoning Nick's vest, then his shirt, taking his time and revelling in the delight of undressing his love for the first time in decades. Nick grinned up at LaCroix, his pale fingers tracing patterns against the even paler skin of Lucien's chest and abdomen. He slipped one finger into the waistband of the pajama bottoms and teased at the silken skin beneath. Another finger joined the first just as Lucien reached the last button and slid his palms up Nick's bare sides and over his shoulders, dragging the shirt open to reveal the delights behind the material. Lucien continued his firm caress down one arm, then the other, pushing the tangled shirt and vest off the bed before reversing direction back up to Nick's shoulders. He rubbed gently there for several moments, staring into the blue eyes that had first captured his heart, feeling Nick's caresses grow bolder. Nicholas's hand had stolen entirely into the pajamas and into the black silk boxers underneath, his palm flat against Lucien's quivering abdomen. Suddenly, he turned his hand and grasped Lucien's fully erect cock tightly, drumming his fingers along the shaft. Nick's grin widened as Lucien's eyes snapped shut, his hands stilling to grip Nick's sides. Nick began pumping Lucien's shaft, slowly, teasingly, his hand barely closed about the hard flesh. He rose from his prone position and reached up to nibble at Lucien's lips, enjoying the sudden switch in roles, from seduced to seducer. Inexorably he pressed Lucien backwards until Lucien was lying below him, his sire's hands moving up to grasp at Nicholas's shoulders, then his upper arms. Nick's other hand came down into the pajamas to barely brush against Lucien's balls. Nick raised up enough to let Lucien straighten out his lower legs and raise his knees, the heels flattening immediately onto the mattress, giving Lucien the purchase to thrust up into Nick's torturously light touch. Only then did Nick increase the pressure on Lucien's cock, stroking and jerking the rock hard member firmly until Lucien's thrusts told him he was on the edge. The hand that had been teasing at Lucien's balls came up to pull the pajamas and boxers down in one swift swoop and Nick zoomed to wrap his lips around the head of Lucien's penis, his tongue flattening against it momentarily before he started to suck, hard. At the exquisite sensation, Lucien gasped and thrust his hips up strongly one final time, spurting his red-tinged semen deep into Nick's waiting throat. Nick greedily swallowed it down, his hand milking every last drop from the softening cock. He raised his head long enough to grin at his master before returning to pull the rapidly softening shaft into his mouth, sucking strongly from the base to the tip, his tongue swirling to catch any spilt dribbles. Lucien raised his head weakly and smiled down at Nick as the younger vampire eased the pajamas and boxers back into place, straightening them fastidiously before sitting back on his heels. He grinned down at his master with an expression that was, in Lucien's estimation, far too smug. That would have to change. Lucien let his head flop back and his muscles relax deceptively until he heard Nick's chuckle. Then, with vampiric speed, he rose to press Nick back down, his hands flying to the belt as he purred, "Your turn." Quickly undoing Nick's pants, Lucien pulled them and the shorts down to his ankles in one smooth move. Disposing of the impeding footwear took but a few moments and Nick's trousers fell by the side of the bed, the clinking of small change and keys going unnoticed by either man. Lucien's pajamas and boxers followed and he stretched himself out full-length atop Nicholas, rubbing softly against him, every inch of skin possible smoothing and sliding, teasing and exciting. Nicholas moaned beneath his lover, his cock growing harder by the instant, pulsing with need. Lucien's lips toyed with Nick's, his tongue darting out to tease and probe, exploring territory that was so familiar, yet at the same time, so new. Nick's tongue joined in battle with Lucien's immediately, his hands coming up to grasp at Lucien's shoulders, wrapping about his neck to draw him down into further contact. After several long minutes, Lucien's tongue disengaged and his lips left a trail of small kisses down Nick's jawline to his neck. He nibbled there for quite a while, enjoying the little squirms his gentle bites evoked in his lover. Slowly, savoring every inch, Lucien moved further down, stopping to tease at each of Nick's nipples, swirling his tongue around and around before biting down sharply, eliciting brief, low moans. Nick's hands slipped from Lucien's neck to his head as his tongue dipped into Nick's navel. Lucien bit and sucked at the thin skin below the small dimple before he stretched out the tip of his tongue to the thin slit at the tip of Nick's straining cock. Nick's hands clenched on Lucien's willing head and pressed it further down, burying his shaft to the hilt in the soft moistness. When Lucien raised his eyes, he beheld his lover's face, eyes tight, mouth agape, neck straining, the whole as beautiful as the sunrise Nicholas longed to see. Lucien's groan was muffled by the throbbing rod in his mouth and he quickly returned his attention to it, circling his tongue just underneath the head. Nick's groans increased in volume and frequency as Lucien skillfully pleasured him, teasing lightly along the shaft with his tongue one moment only to engulf the entirety into his mouth the next, fastening his lips about the base and creating a powerful suction that pulled Nick's orgasm steadily up from his balls, through the straining cock to explode into Lucien's waiting mouth. As Nicholas jerked and gasped, it was Lucien's turn to swallow hungrily, to tease the last drops slowly out, to smile smugly up at his lover's satisfied face. Lucien slowly pulled himself up Nicholas's body to lay, half atop him, a leg between his thighs, one hand lightly stroking at Nick's cheek, the other propping up his own head as he smiled lovingly at the man below him. Nick strained upwards, his own hand moving to cup the back of Lucien's neck as he tenderly parted Lucien's lips with his own and slipped his tongue between them to run across the exposed tips of Lucien's fangs, evoking a short, sharp shiver. They parted and sighed softly, almost in unison, then grinned at each other like schoolboys playing a forbidden game. Lucien's smile faded into a solemn look as he cupped Nick's cheek in his palm and bent down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. Turning his head to rest his cheek on the top of Nick's head, Lucien whispered a simple, "Thank you. For being here. It means..." His voice trailed off, thick with emotion, but Nicholas nodded his understanding. For a long while, they lay quietly, Lucien cradling Nick in his arms, feeling the cool, silken skin against his own. Nick sighed once, laying his head on Lucien's shoulder and closing his eyes, his own arms coming up to embrace his master loosely. His head raised slightly, lips nuzzling at the soft skin under Lucien's ear. They stayed that way long enough for Nick to feel the single pulse under the smooth white skin, a sensation which elicited a sharp pulse of desire in response. Nick groaned low in his throat and whispered softly, "I've missed this... these moments, just lying with you. I think I've missed this most of all." Lucien made no verbal reply, but his arms tightened almost to the point of pain and he sent a wave of love and contentment over the bond, washing Nick in his feelings of peace and joy. Nick moaned again and pressed closer to the sensitive place just under Lucien's left earlobe. He kissed and sucked and nibbled lightly. He licked the skin, then sent a shiver of cool breath blowing over it before resting his teeth just *there*. Lucien sucked in a breath as he felt Nick allow his fangs to extend, slowly, softly easing into the flesh as a wet knife into risen bread dough. Nick drank deeply, letting the rich essence flow over his tongue. The taste reminded him, as it always had, of warm mulled wine and old mahogany. Images flowed with the blood, Lucien's thoughts entwining with his own in the most intimate of embraces. Emotions, too, came pouring into him, insisting on a realization of just how much this joining did mean to LaCroix, of just how much Nicholas meant to him. Nick drank steadily for several moments, relishing the strengthening mental contact with his lover, the strengthening of his own body that came with the rich blood of the older vampire flowing into his own veins. He sighed softly as he let his fangs slip out of Lucien's neck and licked up the last few drops of blood welling to the surface. The pleasure of the vampire's kiss had tensed all of Lucien's muscles and reawakened his arousal. His stiffening cock brushed against Nick's, causing an echoing hardness to grow there. Nicholas nuzzled at the already-healed spot under Lucien's ear, his tongue flicking out to tease. Lucien's thigh pressed against Nick's, opening him, making room for Lucien to roll over atop, in between, nestled in the cradle of Nick's body. Nick's arms came up to grasp his shoulders, Nick's legs came up to enclose his waist. He felt surrounded by his lover, encased in the cool passion that was Nicholas. Silently, without a word or even a moan, Lucien bent and shifted, the tip of his straining penis pressing against the rosebud of Nick's opening, the tips of his fangs pressing against the base of Nick's throat. He stayed there, motionless, for a long moment, savoring the closeness, the anticipation. Nick moaned and arched upward, shattering the crystal ice of the moment, the fragments reforming from stillness into motion as Lucien pierced his lover, with his fangs, with his cock, satisfying both urges for both of them. With one smooth thrust, he plunged his swollen cock halfway into Nick. Another thrust and he was completely encased in the exquisite tightness. He pulled out and thrust again, falling into a swift, almost frantic rhythm. As he pushed he also pulled, sucking strongly at Nick's neck, tasting his lover's overwhelming passion in the sweet young blood. Nick tasted of clover honey, of mead, of desire and joy with a sharp, bitter undercurrent of bright lemon, a taste that was uniquely Nicholas, uniquely enchanting. The blood fed the bond, which, awakened to new heights with Nicholas's feeding, was lifted even higher with Lucien's. (continuous to part three) Forever Knight is in danger of being cancelled! | J. Michele Find out what you can do at: | Freemon http://members.aol.com/CuznJamiMR/SaveForeverKnight.html | Cousine on Or email me: jacie@eden.com | the Warpath! Date: Sun, 7 Jan 1996 15:47:40 -0600 (CST) From: Michele Freemon Subject: Icy Memories (3/4) Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 I'm still pretty new at this fanfic stuff, so write and let me know if you think I got the characters wrong. Or if you think I got 'em right, for that matter. Comments, constructive criticism, requests for missing bits, virtual chocolate, offers of erotica, or erotic offers cheerfully accepted at: jacie@eden.com Icy Memories (3/4) A Forever Knight Song Challenge Story by J. Michele Freemon copyright 1995 The bond between them acted as an amplifier, the arousal feeding from Lucien to Nicholas and back again, gaining strength with each journey across the link. As the arousal heightened, their thrusts increased, slamming them together faster and faster, the sweet friction bringing climax ever closer. Lucien felt himself begin to spasm within his lover. As the feeling overcame him, he felt the answering hum of ecstasy echo in the last mouthfuls of Nick's blood before he tore his fangs away from Nick's neck to arch his back for one final thrust. He spilled his essence into Nicholas in a series of shaking spasms and collapsed onto his lover's chest, feeling the evidence of Nicholas's orgasm between their bodies. He rested his head in the crook of Nick's neck, his tongue coming out to close the small wounds as he allowed his muscles to relax completely. Lucien's rapidly softening cock slid out, breaking the intimate contact as he rolled off Nick onto his side, drawing him with him into a spoon. Nick pressed back against his lover, his arm moving to cover the one Lucien had wrapped about his waist. Nick sighed softly as Lucien rested his cheek on the inviting shoulder before him. His lover's voice was soft and filled with emotion as he whispered, "I love you. After everything that's happened, I still love you." Lucien's arms tensed at the words, drawing Nicholas even more firmly to him. When he could respond, his voice was as tender and passionate as Nick's. "I have always loved you, my Nicholas. I always will." --- When you whispered I love you, did I misunderstand it? Do you just want what you'll never reach? And was our love a mirror? And your own reflection what you were most frightened you'd see? --- He woke slowly in the twilight hours, floating softly out of a pleasant dream of Nicholas and leather and the sweet taste of orgasmic blood. Even after only one day, the slow stretch of the hand to the other side of the bed was automatic. The clench of his heart at finding it empty brought him to full awareness in a flash. Extending his mind along the bond brought a quick surge of relief that Nicholas was at least still in the house followed by a wave of anguish as he recognized Nicholas's mood. He lay still, his eyes shut tightly, his muscles tense for a long moment before sighing and rising to meet the aftermath. As he stepped into the living room, he caught his breath. His Nicholas, his golden child, reflected in all his glory in the window, framed by the purple and red clouds that filled the darkening eastern sky. An image it would take a da Vinci, a Michaelangelo to do justice to. His awe and delight in the picture Nicholas made communicated itself along the wide-open bond and Nick stiffened, his shoulders betraying the distaste his mind screamed. Lucien's own shoulders sagged briefly before a conscious effort straightened them. He braced a shoulder against the doorjamb and waited, his eyes trained on his lover's back. He determined not to say a word. If the betrayal came, Nicholas would have to bear full responsibility for it. Lucien would say nothing, do nothing to hasten the hurt. Nicholas stared out the window for several moments, not acknowledging Lucien's presence. He could feel his master's dread and anticipation flowing through the bond between them, the bond that was stronger now than it had been in almost a century. His forehead sagged against the cool glass of the window as he contemplated once again what he had done. Last night it had seemed so easy, Lucien needed him, loved him, and that was all that had mattered. But now, in the fading light of evening, he knew that that love, even coupled with his own, was not enough. The differences were still there, the insurmountable obstacles were still sitting squarely in their path. How could the hunter ever live with one whose only desire was to return to being the prey? Lucien had never before been able to accept his quest, how could he now? And how could Nick stay with him, seeing the beast inside his master, without succumbing to the beast in himself? And if he felt this guilty after only one day, how would he feel in a week? A year? A century? It simply wouldn't work. Lucien closed his eyes in defeat as Nicholas's emotions flowed into him. When he had come to Liege, he had made the decision not to chase his love, wanting simply to be close to him. When Nick had come to him last night, agreed to share his bed and, he had believed, his life, again, he had thought that maybe, just maybe, the centuries of torment were over. He had made the mistake of allowing himself to hope. Now he was going to pay for that mistake. Nick sighed and pushed himself away from the window, turning to cross the floor to where Lucien stood, patiently waiting for the blow. Nick cupped his master's face, as Lucien had done the night before, dropping one last gentle kiss on the full lips, so like his own. He stepped past the older vampire and into the bedroom, emerging a few minutes later, fully dressed. Lucien's back was to the doorjamb now, he having half-turned to torture himself with the sight of Nicholas preparing to leave. Nick stopped in the doorway and hung his head, sighing once. He opened his mouth to speak, then, finding no words, raised his eyes to Lucien's, pleading silently for understanding. Almost, almost, Lucien found it in himself to give it. Almost. Instead, he just shook his head, his eyes hardening, and spoke one cold sentence. "Your promise means nothing, does it?" Nick's eyes flinched shut and he merely shook his head, not daring to voice his thoughts for fear of being persuaded out of his decision. He opened his eyes and stared into Lucien's for another brief moment, seeing comprehension, but not forgiveness, reflected there. Nodding once at the justice of it, he turned and walked out. Lucien watched the door close behind Nicholas, the gentle thump hitting his frozen heart like a hammer blow. The ruby shards fell around him like sleet and, this time, he wasn't sure he could pick up all the pieces. ***** Dec, 1981 --- You ask how I am and I'm keeping you guessing With some lies even I don't believe But you lied when you said love is given, not borrowed And I'm trying to pay for what you stole from me Yeah, it's cold out, but colder inside And I fear it may turn even colder tonight --- LaCroix flung open the door five minutes into the tirade of pounding. "What's the matter, Nicholas? Bored?" His tone dripped venom and Nick blinked, then took a hesitant step toward the door. LaCroix moved not an inch, a solid barrier in the doorway, glaring a warning as obvious as a flashing traffic sign. "I...." Nick sighed, then squared his shoulders and said firmly, "You need me. So I'm here." His face showed resolved distaste, but the bond between them whispered to Lucien, unmasking Nick's wavering, desire to distaste and back again; his need of an excuse, a reason to give in. LaCroix growled low in his throat and moved in a flash to place his face an inch away from Nicholas's. "A pity fuck, Nicholas? With you squirming in disgust every time I touch you? ... For a time, anyway," he hissed. Lucien slid back to bar the door once again and his voice turned cold and menacing. "I will not feed your incessant guilt in that manner. If what you truly want is another one-night stand followed by a morning of denial and shame, I suggest you go clubbing. You won't find it here." He slammed the door before Nick could react and stalked back into the bedroom, but he could not escape his childe's mental presence as easily as his physical one. Nicholas's guilt and distaste were still there, but the desire had turned to hurt and shock. For a brief moment, Lucien felt satisfaction. 'Rejection, the great leveller,' he thought as he returned to his brooding, the lump of ice in his chest freezing ever more solid with each passing moment. ***** Toronto, November, 1995 --- And there's someone with a new plan, and a new line of business A new kind of ice to fall through With a suitcase, and a true heart and a new kind of trying To give me what I need from you --- Nick popped open the small pillbox and extracted a tablet, grimacing at the number still present. He'd been forgetting again. There were far too many still left. Nat would be upset with him. He was upset with himself. It was just so easy to let things slide... He lost himself so much in his musings that he didn't hear her come in until she slid the elevator door open suddenly, her smile bringing in the sunlight despite the shutters. He quickly closed the little box and slipped back into his pocket, then grinned and held up the pill. "Hi, Nat! I thought you weren't getting back 'til tomorrow. I was just taking my vitamins, see?" Natalie chuckled and shook her head a little, thinking how much like a little boy he looked, almost begging for praise, for encouragement. She stepped over to him and, grinning widely, patted him on the head. "Very good, Nicky!" she teased, ruffling his hair. He laughed down at her, eyes twinkling. "You're in a good mood today." She nodded, returning his grin with one of her own. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, eyeing him, then spoke hesitantly, her mood sobering somewhat. "Yeah, I guess I am... I attended a seminar at the conference. It gave me some ideas." Despite himself, his eyes perked. "Ideas? About me?" Nat gave him a small smile and nodded again. "But I don't want you to get your hopes up. They're just ideas. They may not lead to anything." He nodded quickly. "I won't... promise. What kind of a coronor's seminar could give you ideas about my cure, anyway?" he asked curiously. "Believe it or not, it was a conference on viral research. A couple of researchers who've been doing work on the HIV. There are some similarities to the vampire virus I found in your blood -- the rate of mutation, its tenacity... Anyway, I went on a lark, but I'm glad I did," she smiled again, her eyes lighting up. "One of the researchers and I went out for a drink and some of the topics of conversation... well, just cross your fingers, okay?" His smile faded a little at her mention of drinks, but he nodded and asked softly, "Nice guy?" She looked at him, then, surprise reflected in her eyes. Slowly she started to chuckle. "Chauvinist. What makes you assume it was a he? -She- was actually very nice, yes." Her eyes twinkled up at him as she tried, albeit not very hard, to suppress her smile. Nick had the good grace to look embarrassed, then shrugged a little. "It's kind of hard to get used to this new women's liberation stuff..." "New?" she echoed, then stopped, nodding. "I guess it would be new, from your vantage point, wouldn't it?" She grinned suddenly, shaking her head. "I don't really think about what it must be like for you. How much has the rate of change increased in the past century, anyway? I don't relate that to you... I suppose I should." "A lot," he stated flatly. Nat tilted her head and gazed at him with such an intense look that he started to fidget, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "What?" She blinked and shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing... Let me get a couple of samples, okay? I can start doing some tests." She twirled and stepped back into the elevator, popping open the carry-on there and digging out her medical bag. His eyebrows raised. "You came straight from the airport?" (continuous to part four) Forever Knight is in danger of being cancelled! | J. Michele Find out what you can do at: | Freemon http://members.aol.com/CuznJamiMR/SaveForeverKnight.html | Cousine on Or email me: jacie@eden.com | the Warpath! Date: Sun, 7 Jan 1996 16:01:57 -0600 (CST) From: Michele Freemon Subject: Icy Memories (4/4) Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Praise, ponderings, pleas to desist, I'll take 'em all! Comments, constructive criticism, requests for missing bits, virtual chocolate, offers of erotica, or erotic offers cheerfully accepted at: jacie@eden.com Icy Memories (4/4) A Forever Knight Song Challenge Story by J. Michele Freemon copyright 1995 "Yeah," she answered absently, bringing the bag over to the kitchen table and digging through it. "Ok, open up." She turned, holding a scalpel and a slide. Nick groaned, then cut it off abruptly at her look, raising his hands to the buttons on his shirt. On impulse, instead of just opening his shirt, he shucked it off completely, tossing it across the back of a chair. Nat took it in stride, although he thought he saw her swallow hard and her hand shook just a bit as it approached his chest. She'd steadied it by the time she actually took the first sample. Several slides and one syringe later, she smiled up at him. "That's it. For now." He grinned down at her. "You think this might work, huh?" Nat frowned a bit. "Well, it might give me a direction to go." "Oh. I see." Despite his best efforts, he couldn't keep all of the disappointment from his voice. Nat sighed and set down the last slide, reaching out to wrap her arms around him. She laid her head on his shoulder and said firmly, "We -will- get there. Just have faith, Nick." The hunger that had been his constant companion since he started the diet of cow's blood reared up at the feel of her pressed against him and Nick struggled to keep the glow from his eyes, the fangs from emerging. His arms came up to encircle her and he whispered, "I know we will, Nat." He closed his eyes and started running through baseball statistics in his mind, determined to make this too-rare embrace last as long as possible. Nat nodded at his words, her hair tickling at his chest, then simply stood for a long moment, delighting in the closeness. She felt the muscles in his arms slowly tense and sighed, pulling back before he reached the edge of his control. She turned and carefully placed the samples in her bag, struggling to regain her composure, to treat the moment as nothing special, anything to add to a sense of normalcy, of humanity. Nick watched quietly for a moment, then reached for his shirt with a sigh too soft to be heard. Nat smiled brightly as she snapped closed the bag and turned. "Okay," she said in a voice dripping with cheerfulness, "I'd better get home to Sydney before he figures out how to work the can opener and starts in on the tuna." Nick gave an appropriate laugh, then sobered a little and reached out to run one fingertip down her cheek. "I want you to know -- I am so grateful for everything you're doing for me... You do know that, don't you?" Nat nodded once, her throat too full of her heart to let out any words, and stepped over to the elevator, looking back at him with eyes shining as she slid the door closed. ***** Two weeks later --- I've prayed for release and I've prayed for your blessing And I've prayed I would die in my sleep I've prayed to forget you in the love of another And I've prayed you would come home to me --- LaCroix's show that night had hit uncomfortably close to home and Nick was in a state of emotional turmoil by the time he reached his loft. He picked up the remote and lowered the shutters halfway, moving to stand in his favorite corner. He needed to think. Natalie always accused him of brooding. She didn't realize that watching the sunbeams was peaceful. His eyes drifting with the dancing motes, he could free his mind for contemplation. Today he was contemplating LaCroix. After the scene on Valentine's Day, Nick would have given anything to be rid of LaCroix. Seeing him there, with Natalie, realizing the choice that was being given to him, feeling that awful moment of indecision were all still giving him nightmares. It was ironic, the depth of his loathing for LaCroix, considering the centuries he had spent striving for nothing more than his approval. There had been times, when Lucien's proud smile fell on him, that his heart had soared into the night above, dancing on the bright motes there. No more. Nick stretched a hand out to the very edge of the closest of the pale winter sunbeams, feeling the heat on his skin, the barest edges of the burn from the reflected light. Some mornings he thought it would be so easy to just wait, to stick to the deep shadows of the buildings, to watch the city come awake, simply not to go inside. Those mornings had been coming less and less since he met Natalie. Natalie was good for him, he thought. 'Good to me.' Since Valentine's Day, he'd been trying to avoid his burgeoning feelings for her. He missed the days when he could spend all morning with her, talking about nothing or watching old movies. LaCroix and his cruel tricks were far from his mind on those days. But the danger to her was just too great to take the risk. The danger to him, as well. He still wasn't sure what he'd have done if his third option hadn't worked. LaCroix's game playing had lessened of late, an ebb in the tide of intensity, as if he were bored or pursuing other interests for a time. He would return his attention to Nick eventually, of course. And then the subtle attacks would begin again. 'But there were times...,' Nick mused. 'In Liege, that winter... A decade and a half, is that all?' It had been so tender, so much like the days, the decades just after Lucien had brought him across. If it could be like that always, if Lucien didn't play his games and Nick could forget his guilt... what then? He slammed a fist on the wall behind him in frustration and longing. And the day passed in contemplation of Lucien. --- So I'm holding her out, and I'm keeping her guessing With some lies I wish I could believe This hurt here inside is too much for one man And she's trying to pay for what you stole from me --- The sun had traced its path from one side of the loft to the other and Nick was still standing, lost in thought. His mind fixed on sifting through the centuries of memories for the moments of tenderness, even love, that his mentor had shown him, he almost missed the phone's ring. Braving the last of the winter sunlight streaming through the windows, he rushed to the phone and picked it up just before the machine could click on. "Knight." "Nick, it's Natalie. I..." Nat paused, then continued in a voice tinged with worry, "I just wanted to check in, I guess. You seemed a little... down when I saw you this morning. You okay?" Nick tried for cheerful and failed miserably. "Me? Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. How would Tracy put it? Just peachy!" He winced at Nat's soft sigh of exasperation, but how could he tell her the truth? That the day filled with not-so-unpleasant thoughts of LaCroix had, for the moment, driven his dreams of mortality straight out the window. Nick felt a surge of guilt at that realization and, as Nat's soft voice, always a reminder of those dreams, came again over the wire, he interrupted curtly. "Nat, I said I'm fine, okay? Look, I'll... call you later, all right? Don't worry." He cut off her half-voiced protest with a swift goodbye and hung up the phone. Sinking onto the couch, he ran an impatient hand through his hair and sighed. Pointless brooding over Lucien would get him nowhere. After the last time he'd turned his back on his master, surely there was no hope of reconciliation. No possibility of LaCroix simply leaving him alone either. The thirst for vengeance was part of what made LaCroix who he was. Payback for wrongs, real or imagined, was ingrained in the older vampire. Unfortunately, Nick couldn't honestly say that all the wrongs LaCroix could list were imaginary. He'd done his share of screwing things up, too. Unable to sit still, he rose and roamed the apartment restlessly. It seemed as if every knick-knack, every souvenir brought back a memory, good or ill, of Lucien. Looking around, he felt that his life had been lived, not in the shadows, but in one shadow, LaCroix's. He was turning a pottery shard over in his hands, letting the recollections flow over him when the door to the elevator slammed open. He'd been so lost in the past that he hadn't even heard the elevator itself. Natalie stood there, one hand on the door, the other on her hip. She sighed and stepped into the loft. "I knew something was wrong." Nick placed the shard carefully back in its place and turned to face her. "Nat, I told you, I'm fine. You didn't have to come." "Yes, Nick, I did. When you're down, I can tell. And I'm going to do everything in my power to help you through it. That's what friends do." Her voice was a velvet layer of caring and concern over a steel core of determination. "Now, please, just tell me what's bothering you. I can't help if you won't open up to me, Nick." "Fine. You really want to know?" "Yes, Nick. I really do." Nick sighed and muttered under his breath, "You asked for it." He turned to face the window, propping his arm on the bricks beside it. "I've been thinking about LaCroix." Nat moved to stand next to him, keeping her face carefully composed as he glanced over at her, her only reaction a slight tightening of the lips. Nick watched her face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction to his next utterance. "I've been... remembering the good times." Her raised eyebrows moved him to nod. "*Good times*?" Nat cleared her throat to clear the incredulous squeak from her voice and tried again, in as calm a voice as she could manage. "I take it he wasn't always so bad?" Nick nodded again slowly, turning back to the window, his voice snowflake-quiet as he insisted, "There were actually some of them. After he first brought me across, we... We were..." His voice trailed off as he stared into the twilight. "You were lovers," she finished quietly, when it became evident that he wasn't going to. His face reflected his shock at the calmness of her statement and she nodded thoughtfully. "I listen to his show sometimes, too, you know. Some of what he says... Well, some of it isn't exactly fatherly." "You're taking this much better than I thought you would," he murmured. Nat sighed a little, shaking her head. "We're all products of our environment, Nick. LaCroix is what, Roman, originally?" "Pompeiian, actually," he corrected absently, his puzzled eyes still resting on her composed, almost relaxed, posture. "It's only logical that he would look at you as a lover as well as a son." Natalie tried hard to let her acceptance, her understanding, show in her tone. "And, given your upbringing, your life before you met him..." she trailed off, searching for the gentlest way to put it. Nick's turn to quietly finish her statement. He nodded slowly, eyes meeting hers. "It's only logical that I would feel horribly guilty about it. And I did. Not at first..." He paused, recalling the first playful decades, his eagerness, Lucien's patience. His face softened for a moment, then he shook his head in resignation. "But later. Later." Natalie nodded again, one hand coming up to rest comfortingly on his shoulder. "So you struck out at him? Tried to drive him away? Am I close?" Nick glanced at her and nodded, his eyes shadowed. His hand rose to cover hers. "Right on the mark. Very perceptive." He wandered back over to the couch, tugging her along with him. Sitting heavily, he drew her down beside him, not letting go of her hand for an instant. "You know, I can't even remember how it started. It seems like one day we were blissfully happy and the next we were at each other's throats. We've hurt each other so much, for so long..." "Relationships can do that, Nick. Especially if you're not careful. Especially ones where the power inequity is as great as it must have been between the two of you. I'm sorry you had to go through that, that you still have to. But..." Nat stretched out her other hand and cupped his cheek turning him to face her. "You can pick up the pieces. You can start to heal." Nick gazed into her eyes for a long moment, then nodded, reaching to take her into a one-armed embrace. He dropped a kiss on her forehead and smiled softly. "Yes. With some help from my friends. Maybe I can." Nat laid her head on his shoulder and they sat like that for a long while, lost in thought. Finis. Forever Knight is in danger of being cancelled! | J. Michele Find out what you can do at: | Freemon http://members.aol.com/CuznJamiMR/SaveForeverKnight.html | Cousine on Or email me: jacie@eden.com | the Warpath!