home fanfic meta graphics links email

Home / Fan Fiction / V(cough) C(cough) fic / VC Sins of the Past And On They Danced

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. Consititution, 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."

And On They Danced - Year 2, A 'tweener spec
by the Brat Queen

David heard the sound of the front door slam and tensed, waiting to discover what would be heard next. There was a slight tapping of footsteps coming up the stairs and he relaxed, but only a little. Louis was home.

He folded his newspaper in half and laid it down on the couch, checking his watch as he did so. He had perhaps a half hour before Lestat was expected to be back. He didn't know if it was enough, but he didn't have a choice about it either. He had to take what he could get. Of course, that status had become all too painfully typical for him lately.

Louis burst through the door to the living room carrying bulging, brightly colored shopping bags in each arm. He had to balance them carefully to make sure they didn't knock the living room chairs over as he passed by them on the way to the bedroom he shared with Lestat.

"Is Lestat home?" Louis asked, then continued without missing a step or paying attention to what David did. "No? Good. It took longer than I thought it would at that last store. I had the misfortune of stepping into a shop that was having a sale and it took forever to find someone to ring these up for me."

"Are those for tonight?" David asked. He didn't need to, though. He knew the answer. Every night it was the same. Two new outfits. One to wear that evening, the other to wear the next day while shopping for the next two.

"Yes, although not I'm not sure if I made the right choice." Louis appeared in the bedroom doorway holding a new suit in front of him. "What do you think, David? Is this appropriate for a night at a racetrack? I haven't been to one in decades, I'm afraid I no longer know what's standard."

"That's lovely," David said. He got up from his chair and went over to examine the outfit. "It's a good choice, Louis. But perhaps I should see the other one first before telling you which one to wear?"

"Alright," Louis said. David followed him into the bedroom and watched as Louis pulled boxes out of one of the shopping bags and opened them, moving the tissue paper to the side so David could see the silk shirt and denim jeans inside. "These are more casual. Would they be better? I have to confess, I hope they are. I'd rather like to wear this shirt tonight."

"I can see why," David said, fingering the material. "That's positively sinful."

"And the color goes so well with my eyes," Louis said. He picked up the shirt and held it in front of him, looking into the closet mirror as he did so. "It's not an exact match, but enough. Don't you think? I so want to wear this! Tell me that I can."

"Well," David said, "knowing Lestat, he probably has some grand evening planned so you might want to stay with a more formal look. The shirt is nice, but it's too casual all on its own."

Louis sighed. "You think so? What if I matched it with the suit?"

"No, the colors are all wrong," David said.

"Oh well," Louis said. "I shall have to wear the suit then."

"Actually," David said, thoughtfully, "there may be a way for you to wear this shirt after all. I just thought of something that would formalize it nicely."

Louis brightened considerably. "Really? What?"

"Let me see," David said. "I'm not sure where it is."

David walked over to the closet and opened the door.

"David, what are you doing?" Louis' voice had a slight edge to it that was not there before.

"I'm looking for that black jacket that you wore the night we went down to Miami," David said, nonchalantly. "You remember the one, it had those engraved silver buttons and the waitress at that little cafe couldn't take her eyes off of it. That jacket would go perfectly with this shirt."

"Actually, I think I'll stay with the suit," Louis said. "Never mind that, David. I'll wear the suit."

"Nonsense," David continued to look in the closet. "If you want to wear the shirt you should. Lestat would love it. Let me find the jacket and you'll see."

"Forget it, David, I'll wear the suit." Louis' voice was harder now.

"Here we are," David pulled the jacket he'd been looking for out of the closet. He held it out for Louis to take. "Try it on, you'll see. With the right pants it will be perfect for tonight."

"No, I've decided, I'll wear this." Louis picked up the suit and began clipping the tags off of it. "You can put that away."

"I don't see why. I thought you wanted to wear the shirt."

"And now I want to wear the suit." Louis' voice was slightly mocking. "Aren't I allowed to change my mind?"

"Of course you are," David said. He turned to put the jacket back into the closet. "After all," he added under his breath, "you've become so good at it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what you think it means, Louis." David turned and faced the dark-haired vampire. "You go ahead and change your mind as much as you want because I've yet to see you hold it to a single thought in quite some time!"

"What!" Louis' features darkened with anger. "How dare you say such things to me!"

"I dare because it's the truth. Every night for the past two years the only thing that's ever been the same is that you will do something to change. You dance in and out of here never stopping to take a breath, never taking a moment to think, never caring about the rest of us!"

"I don't have to stand for this," Louis said. He shoved David aside and went into the livingroom.

"Yes you do," David said as he followed. "Or has it come to the point where you can't even stand still anymore? Has it? You tell me, Louis, because quite frankly I don't think I know you anymore."

"I was never yours to know!" Louis said.

"You are my friend, Louis. Or at least you were. You were back when I first knew you. Back when you were yourself, when you weren't doing these foolish things, when you actually gave a damn about something other than yourself!"

Louis' eyes grew cold. "You shall watch what you say to me or will I have to remind you which one of us is stronger? Remember, David, you only had one taste of Lestat's blood. I've been tasting it for the past two years."

"Is that all Lestat is to you now? A source of blood for you to sate yourself on then go off to your own little escapades?"

"Lestat is my *lover*," Louis said. "And you would do well to remember that. No matter what lies you may try to whisper in his ear, *I'm* the one he'll believe in the end."

"What lies do you think I'm telling him?" David asked. "What lies could I tell? The only thing I could tell him is the truth."

"And what 'truth' is that?" Louis sneered.

"That you're falling apart. That every night you get closer to the edge. That you're so far gone that you won't even try on a jacket you wore once for fear that it will make you remember what happened!"

"SILENCE! Don't you dare say another word!"

Pain exploded in David's body as Louis' hand shot out, hit David's arm, and snapped it in two. David forced down a scream of agony as he clutched his wounded arm, holding it in place so that it could heal. Every breath he took was torture. Finally, after what seemed like years, he felt numb enough to look up at Louis again.

"It happened, Louis," he said, unable to keep the coldness out of his voice. "Everything Juliano did to you happened. You have to face that truth! You can't keep running from this!"

"Leave me alone!" Louis cried. There was a look of panic in his green eyes.


"*Please*," Louis said. Tears formed around the rims of his eyes. David could feel himself begin to give in. "Don't do this to me, David. I've never done anything to hurt you."

Louis might as well have slapped him in the face. "No," David said again, his voice even colder than before. "I won't do it. I can't sit back and watch you do this to yourself anymore. You've become nothing but a shallow, egotistical, vain--"

"Is there a *problem* here, David?" Lestat's voice was almost inhuman.

David whirled around in surprise. "Lestat! I didn't hear you come in."

"Well you were so busy insulting Louis that I'm not surprised," Lestat folded his arms and glared at David. "Louis? What's going on here? What happened while I was out?"

"Ask him," Louis said as he disappeared back into the bedroom.

"Alright, I'm asking you. What the hell is your problem?"

"I'm worried about him, Lestat," David said, as gently as he could. "Every night it gets worse."

"Well if this is the way you've been treating him these past two years, I'm not surprised."

"Dammit, Lestat, that's not the issue and you know it! He's hurting. He hasn't recovered from what Juliano did to him and he never will if this keeps up. We can't let him go on like this."

Lestat grabbed David by the arm and dragged him out into the hallway. Though the arm was nearly healed, it still hurt unbearably. David winced, but Lestat didn't turn around to notice.

"You watch what you say in his earshot, David," he hissed. "It's been a year since he had his last nightmare and I don't relish the idea of that starting again. He's active, he sleeps through the day and he's happy. If I have to put up with a few idiosyncrasies to have him stay that way, so be it."

"This goes beyond a few 'quirks' in his behavior," David said. "It's becoming an obsession with him. Or do you honestly think he can stop this whenever he wants to?"

Louis appeared in the doorway. "Are you two done?" he asked. "Come on, Lestat, I don't want to be late. You promised to show me how to bet on the best horses."

"I'm ready if you are," Lestat said. He let go of David's arm and smiled as Louis' put his arm around his waist. "Let's go, beautiful one."

David made one last grasp for Lestat's attention. "Lestat," he said in his ear, "I can't stand to see the two of you like this."

Lestat regarded him with an indifferent eye. "So why don't you stop looking?" he asked.

David watched in silence as Lestat and Louis made their way down the stairs.

The silk shirt was nowhere to be seen.

Lestat woke early the next night. He snuggled next to Louis' sleeping form.

"I should take you to the track more often, cheri," he whispered. "It has such a... *positive* effect on you."

He smiled, thinking of how much Louis had enjoyed the excitement of the races and, more importantly, how "grateful" Louis had been that Lestat had picked out the winning horses for him. His gratitude had been so much that they'd had to leave early and come straight home and into bed. They didn't even take the time to say goodnight to David.

Lestat felt a spasm of guilt. He'd never let a fight with David last so long. No matter how bad the argument got, they always resolved it before the dawn.

*I should go talk to him, get this over with.* Lestat thought. He slid out of bed, put on a pair of pants, checked to make sure that Louis was still asleep then left their bedroom.

*This is ridiculous. There was no need for it to get that bad.* Lestat passed through the living room on his way to David's bedroom. *It was just a silly fight that got out of proportion. No big deal.*

The door to David's bedroom was closed. Lestat knocked on it softly. "David? David, let me in. I want to talk to you about last night."

There was no response. Lestat frowned. It was too early for David to have left to go hunting. There were still traces of sunlight in the sky. "David?" he said, a little louder. When again there was no reply, he tried the door. It swung open easily at his touch and he could see the entire room from where he stood.

It was empty.

"What...?" Lestat stood were he was, his mouth hung open in shock. He snapped it shut and quickly searched the room. There was nothing. The closets, the drawers, even the mattress had been stripped of everything that had been David's. Only the furniture remained.

"This can't be true," Lestat whispered. He ran into the library and saw that it too had been emptied of David's belongings. There was nothing in the flat that belonged to David. Both he and his possessions were gone.

He sank down onto the silver damask. "This can't be happening again," he said. Visions of Gabrielle, Nicki and Claudia danced before him. He turned his head away from this and found himself looking at Louis' desk. There was an envelope on it bearing his name. It was David's handwriting. Lestat snatched it up eagerly and tore it open. Throwing the envelope aside, he returned to his seat and read the painfully short letter. "My dear old friend,

You must forgive me my cowardice in my actions but I do not have the courage in me to do this in your presence. It pains me more than you can know that it has come to this.

I am not doing this because of our fight last night or out of anger towards you or Louis. I do it out of love for you both. I cannot stand by while the two who are most dearest to me suffer in this way so, as you said, I must stop looking.

There is an old apartment nearby that is more than adequate for my needs. I will make my residence there for the time being. I will let you know what the address is as soon as I can. You are, as always, welcome in my home.

But, Lestat, I beg of you: do not let Louis continue in this manner. He's not only hurting himself, he's hurting you as well. If he is not made to see the truth, he will never stop behaving as he does now. I do not have to tell you what this behavior is. You know it as well as I. You see his constant parade of new clothes, his refusal to repeat his actions, his inability to stand still. It must stop or I fear the consequences. Both for him and for you.

I love you. I will speak with you soon.


Lestat let the note fall into his lap. He didn't want to think of the meaning it had.

"There you are," Louis came into the room. He leaned over from behind the silver damask and put his arms around Lestat's shoulders. Nuzzling Lestat's ear, he whispered softly "I don't like waking up and finding you gone."

"Hmm? What? Oh, sorry, Louis. I had to... see to something." Lestat said, almost to himself. He crumbled David's note in his hand.

"What was that?" Louis asked.

"Nothing," Lestat replied. "Look, Louis, I'm not really in the mood for--what are you wearing?"

Louis had moved around in oder to sit beside Lestat and, instead of wearing the expensive new outfit Lestat had expected him to wear, he was wearing a simple blue robe.

"Why? Don't you like it?" Louis smoothed the soft robe out with one hand. "It's the one you gave to me."

"But that was years ago," Lestat said. "I gave that to you back when we were still living on Night Island."

"I know," Louis said. He gave a small shrug which pulled the robe open a little and exposed his bare chest. "But that doesn't mean I can't wear it anymore. You gave this to me, that's why I like it. I think I'll wear this every night."


"Why not?" Louis smiled. "When I put this robe on, it makes me think of you. I can't imagine a better thing for a piece of clothing to do."

Louis let his hand run down Lestat's chest. "You know, Lestat," he said, "I had a lot of fun with you last night at the track. We should do things like that more often. Would you like that?"

"I'd love it," Lestat said. He pulled Louis into his arms, burying his face in the mass of dark hair. "Especially if it ends up like last night did."

Louis laughed. "Speaking of which," he said. He shifted over so that he was now sitting on Lestat's lap. "I was wondering: do you *really* want to go out tonight? Because right now all I can think about is getting back in bed with you until the sun rises."

"I'll suffer," Lestat said. He kissed Louis, hungrily, loving the feel of Louis' fingers in his hair and dizzy from the knowledge that what Louis truly wanted was to be with him.

"Mmm, careful," Louis whispered as Lestat tugged on the belt of the robe. "You don't want David to come in here and see us like this now do you?"

"I--" Lestat stopped. He made a fist of the hand that still held David's note. "Louis, David moved out last night."

"What?" Louis looked at him in surprise. "Why? Oh, Lestat, no wonder you looked so sad when I walked in. Is anything wrong? Is David in trouble?"

"No, he," Lestat looked into Louis' concerned green eyes, thought for a few moments, then continued. "He said he just needed to be by himself. He thought that the two of us needed to be alone. That's all. From what he says in his letter, he didn't move far."

"But still, that had to hurt," Louis caressed Lestat's cheek with his fingertips. "I know how much that sort of thing means to you." He kissed Lestat softly. "I don't know if this will make you feel better, but you do know that I will never go. I need you. I need to know that you're near me, that I can wake up to the feel of your big, strong arms around me. I could never move away."

"That does make me feel better, beautiful one," Lestat said. He held Louis tighter. "Of course, I'd feel better still if we went back into the bedroom."

"Why?" Louis said. He smiled at Lestat, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "After all, who is there to interrupt us? Why don't we stay right here?"

Lestat threw the remnants of David's letter into the trash can. He pushed Louis' back against the arm rest and resumed his efforts to remove the stubborn belt. "My love," he said, "I couldn't agree with you more."

home fanfic meta graphics links email