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DISCLAIMER: The following stories are all non-profit, amateur efforts not intended to infringe on the rights of Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, David Geffen, Warner Brothers, Geffen Pictures, Knopf, Randomhouse, the city of New Orleans, the U.S. Constitution, any copyright holders that I might not have thought of or even a certain author who shall remain nameless but who has a set of initials which are, coincidentally enough, just one letter off from spelling "B.S."

A Thousand Years
by The Brat Queen

Spoilers: None.
Summary: Louis and Lestat face their first new millenium.

"What do you think is going to happen?" I asked. A cool breeze brushed along my forehead. For the sake of appearances only I put my hands into my coat pockets to keep them warm.

"I don't know," Louis replied. He looked over at me, his green eyes as cool as the air around us had become. "But the point is that neither do you."

My lips shaped into a smile. "It could be fun."

A twitch of his eyebrows provided the only answer I needed to that.

I looked away and leaned over the railing. We were standing on top of one of the many buildings that framed Times Square. Several stories below us the crowd moved in confetti-like waves of color. I watched as streamers floated aimlessly through the air and listened to the sheer, incomprehensible noise of it all.

"Louis," I tried again, "this is a historical moment. Don't you want to be a part of it?"

"I could just as easily be a part of it in my own sitting room, Lestat. It's going to happen whether I'm here or not."

I hid my grin under my hair. He has a way of saying my name when he feels he has a particularly good reason to think that he's smarter than I am.

"Arguably," he added, "I would have more fun in my own sitting room, but I suppose you're going to disagree with that as well."

"It's Times Square, Louis!" I said, gesturing at it with a broad stroke of my arm. "Don't you want to see the New Year here?"

"I've already done so once and found the entire thing overrated. I don't see why I should do it again."

"You have?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Years ago," he said. The look he gave me was temporarily softer and more affectionate. "You were asleep." A look of mock-scolding returned to him. "You've slept away the best years of your life, you know."

"Well then you should encourage me as I try to catch up," I told him, undaunted. I folded my arms against the railing and moved over so that I could almost feel him standing beside me. "I find the whole thing fascinating. Do you think the world's going to end?"

"It hasn't yet and it's been the New Year for…" he checked his watch "nearly four hours now, over in London."

I rolled my eyes.

"Nearly five hours now, over in Germany," he added.

"You're being technical."

"And also accurate."

"But that's not the point," I said. "The point is that it hasn't yet happened here and whether or not Germany has survived matters little when the clock strikes twelve - or fails to, if it's computer-operated - and they - " I pointed to the crowed below "think that the world might end."

"Which is precisely my point," he said. "Lestat, you have no idea what they are capable of in a moment of fear such as that. The city may turn to utter chaos and we could be damaged in its confusion. If even just one of these buildings burst into flames you and I could be in mortal danger!"

"True," I admitted. I thought about saying more, but decided to leave it at that.

He sighed heavily, settling down beside me and looking intently at some unknown spot in front of him.

That he would not leave me alone to face such potential chaos warmed my heart considerably.

After a few moments of silence had passed I felt it might be safe to change the subject a bit.

"It's rather interesting, facing a New Year," I said. When there was no reply I glanced over at him. He was still looking at something but I could tell he was at least listening to me and giving me the chance to prove that I could come up with a good topic of conversation. "What do you think they will make out of it?"

"I don't know," he said softly. "I think they will be very scared and forget themselves."

"It's a new start, though," I said. "A clean slate for the entire world. Don't you think that has possibility?"

He considered, then shrugged. His hair slipped down his shoulder and fell towards his face in the movement. "Perhaps."

"There's as much good in the world as bad, you know. A fifty-fifty chance that we could go either way, when it comes right down to it."

There was a touch of a smile on his lips. I don't know if it was because he believed what I said or was simply glad that I said it.

I slid my arm around his and watched the crowd again. "Any resolutions?"

He shook his head. "No, just wishes."

"Like what?"

"Peace," he said. "No more fighting between us all. No more wars, no more genocide. Just… peace."

I hugged his arm sympathetically. "I can agree to that."

"That you wouldn't be so foolish. That you would stop thinking and acting as though you were alone." His green eyes looked out at me from the dark hair that had fallen towards him. The look was both pleading and accusatory. "That you would remember that you are not invincible, and that people can kill you."

I felt the breath in my lungs grow cold. A touch of tears rimmed my eyes for a second, but then vanished before I could feel the emotion that had caused them.

He looked away. "I don't expect you to promise it. I just wish it."

I wanted to say something to that, something comforting or agreeing, but realized there was nothing I could say which would touch the feelings in his heart. To even declare my love for him would have been vulgar, compared to that.

It was his turn to hug me, then, his thin arm squeezing my own in a firm, supportive gesture. "It's alright, Lestat."

It always amazes me that he is the one who needs to comfort me when I'm the one who continually wrongs him. I can't help but wonder if he resents it.

"I can try to do better," I said, randomly guessing at something appropriate to say.

He smiled, reaching up to press a cool kiss to my lips. "Don't. I want you ultimately to be yourself, Lestat. I can wish for nothing else, truly."

I nodded, moving my arm to hold him a bit more properly. I had the odd feeling that the conversation had lapped me somehow but tried my best to keep up with it.

"What do you wish?" he asked me, his green eyes holding in them honest curiosity.

"Happiness," I said. "That it will all work out in the end. That things won't go too horribly wrong."

"As fine a wish as any," he said. He shivered a little, so I pulled him closer still and did what little I could to keep him warm with my own ice-cold body. He curled into my arms comfortably, almost possessively, one bone-white hand clutching at my sleeve as though at any moment I might blow away.

"I love you," I murmured, feeling at last that the moment was right to say it.

"I love you too, mon Lestat," he replied. The grip of his hand did not lessen.

"I wish to spend the next thousand years with you, mon Louis."

"So do I," he said. He moved so that I could hold him tighter. "May it be so."

I kissed the top of his head. I blew warm air onto his neck and ears in an effort to help chase the cold away.

"I wish Armand could have seen this," he said, his voice quiet as though he were afraid to speak these words to me.

I nodded, hugging him. I tried to imagine where on earth Armand could be, but gave up. If he had wanted me to know, he would have told me. "So do I, Louis. So do I."

Louis nodded, accepting this, then returned to watching the crowd.

I laid my chin to rest on his head and watched with him. From where we stood we could feel the ever-growing pulse of the crowd and the light thrum of excitement that would only grow as the time drew closer.

There was still over an hour left. I knew that I would hold Louis in my arms for all of it.