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Le Printemps Part 1
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."
Le Printemps Part 1, an after spec
by the Brat Queen
Winner: Best Quote '95-'96
Winner: Best Quote '95-'96
As written in the journal entries of Louis de Pointe du Lac and Lestat de
LOUIS' JOURNAL ENTRY:
[signs of the beginnings of an entry which has been crossed out]
It would appear that my evening last night was not as uneventful as
I had originally thought it would be when I started writing that entry.
Hopefully, I will be able to finish this one before something else happens.
Not that I minded the company. But it was... distracting, to say the
Where was I? Oh yes, I had been writing about how it looked like it
would be a calm night for once. Lestat would call that irony. Then he
would scold me for scowling at him. Then we would fight about my right to
scowl at him and then...
Well then we would end up about where we were when the night really
started now wouldn't we?
I had been writing that last, soon to be aborted entry when Lestat
came in. I Felt him, before other such sensory information as the sound of
the front door closing or the faint vibrations he made as he walked
through the hall to join me in the library, came to me. There was another
thing as well. A smell. The soft perfume of freshly cut flowers. Roses
to be precise.
Now roses are not my favorite type of flowers (I favor orchids,
which Lestat knows) so I did not automatically assume that they were for
me. Instead, I assumed that Lestat had gotten them from where he usually
gets them. There is an elderly gentleman of perhaps 85 years who sets up a
little stand near one of the bookstores that Lestat frequents. Lestat
often stops by to visit with this man. Lestat likes to talk with him when
he has a chance to. And, though he thinks I don't know this, he likes to
do little favors for him as well while seemingly only buying a bouquet of
roses. One night, when he thought I wasn't looking, he gave the man $500
so that he might take an airplane ride to visit with his family.
Lestat uses his telepathy to make sure that the man doesn't notice
or question where the money comes from. Lestat never likes to be
recognized for his acts of kindness. But rest assured, I give him his due
rewards for it.
Usually, Lestat will deposit the flowers in a vase in his study so I
was surprised when he instead came immediately to the library. He burst
through the door in his characteristic fashion and did not say so much as a
word to me before leaning over me on the couch and kissing me.
"No 'hello'?" I teased.
"Hello," he said, then kissed me again. His lips were warm from
hunting and I could still taste the traces of blood on them. "Miss me?"
"Always," I said. I put my journal down and smiled at him, loving
the sight of him as his eyes lit up and he returned my smile.
"For you," he said and he handed me the bright red roses. He
shrugged off his jacket, then sat next to me on the couch.
"Thank you," I said. I did a quick count and found that there were
5 dozen roses in the bouquet. I felt Lestat begin to try to sneak his arm
around my waist and, seeing the gleam in his eye, feigned indifference.
"Shall I put them in water?"
"Oh no," he said, moving closer. "They aren't for decoration."
"What are they for?"
"Tonight," Lestat's eyes looked positively feline. "And for what
I'm about to do."
"What's that?" I asked. I tried to move further away but I was
pressed against the arm of the couch already. Lestat moved his other arm
around me, effectively blocking me from getting up, and moved closer so
that his lips, while not against my ear, were right behind it. I could
feel his hot breath on my neck when he spoke.
"I'm going to make love to you on a bed of roses, Louis," he
whispered. "I want to see those soft red petals in your dark black hair
and against your pale white skin as my mouth travels over every inch of
"Won't I get pricked with the thorns?" I asked, no longer sure if I
was still teasing him with procrastination.
"If it frightens you, then I will remove each and every dangerous
thorn myself," he replied. "I don't want anything to harm you."
"That will take too long," I said, now quite sure that I wasn't
"I can do it quickly," he said. He put his hand against my cheek,
turned my head, then kissed me on the lips. "At least, I can do *that*
quickly. But once I'm done with the roses, I'm afraid I'm going to have to
go very, very slow. Are you sure you won't mind?"
"Not at all," I said around the tightness in my chest. He moved
closer still and I gave up. The roses slipped from my fingers as I wrapped
my arms around him and lost myself in his kiss. His skilled hands were
moving with damning slowness over my body and I soon found myself pressing
eagerly against him in the hopes of making him do more, but with no luck.
"Mon Dieu, Lestat!" I gasped. "Must you finally have willpower in *this*?"
He laughed. "Don't you like it, beautiful one?" He let his tongue
glide up my neck, his fangs tracing along the delicate veins until I
moaned. He laughed again, a playful chuckle. "I can stop, if you don't
"Don't you dare!" I dug my fingers into his shoulders and pressed
down firmly, reminding him of my strength.
"Planning on keeping me here against my will?" he asked. His mouth
was barely away from mine. "Am I your prisoner?"
"My keeper," I replied. "And I'll never get away for I cannot
That made *him* moan and we were once again lost in a passionate
embrace, barely aware of our movements or actions. My thoughts vanished in
a blissful cloud where there was no danger, no pain, only love, only
Suddenly, something broke through this. I bolted upright, panting,
and tried to get my bearings. "Did you hear that?"
"What?" Lestat looked around. Whatever it was, he had felt it too.
I heard it again. "There! Do you hear it? Something... something
"Only my heart," he said. He smiled, but there was a trace of
irritation in his voice. "I can Feel no danger, Louis."
Neither could I, and my sense of that has always been greater than
Lestat's. But the pounding continued. I shook my head to clear it, and
focused on the sound, trying to identify it. "It's the front door," I
said. "Someone's knocking."
"Ignore them," Lestat said. "It's their own fault for not using the
"It might be something important," I said. I scanned outside.
"It's Daniel! He seems upset."
"Definitely ignore it then."
"Louis!" he mimicked my tone of voice. "I can scan too, you know.
He's had another fight with Armand which makes the one hundredth this week
alone. We're not his baby-sitter! Daniel's a big boy, let him take care
of it himself and let us have a romantic evening at home."
I was sorely tempted to agree with him. My body was still flushed
with heat from Lestat's kiss and as I sat there, feeling the warmth of
Lestat lying beside me, I began to want nothing more than to lie back down
and forget the rest of the world.
The pounding got louder.
"He knows we're here," I said. I thought quickly. "Let me go
and speak with him. I'll tell him we're busy. Just so he knows we're not
ignoring him. I don't think he'll go away otherwise."
It was the last point that did it. Lestat let go of me with
obvious reluctance. "Alright, but get rid of him! Promise me!"
"Of course," I said. And I meant it. I wanted to spend the night
with Lestat. I patted Lestat's shoulder reassuringly, then left to answer
the door, fixing my clothes as I did so.
"Where were you, the roof?" Daniel walked past me as soon as I
opened the door.
"Louis, what am I going to do? It's never been this bad before."
This concerned me. "You don't mean--"
He shook his head. "No, not with him. With *us*."
"Oh. Well then--"
"Sure we fight before, but this time it's different."
"Daniel, I know--"
"I really think he's going to leave me, Louis." Daniel had tears in
his eyes as he looked at me. "What am I going to do?"
I bit my lip. I looked at Daniel, looked back towards the library,
looked at Daniel again then decided. "Wait right here," I said.
"No," Lestat's response came the second I walked through the
doorway. "No. No. No. No. No."
"Lestat!" I closed the door so Daniel wouldn't hear.
"You're being selfish and cruel," I said.
"I never said I wasn't," he replied, then continued. "No."
"He's really hurting."
"So am I!"
"Don't be crude."
"Fine, if you tell him to leave!"
"No! Daniel is my friend and he needs me right now."
"Don't make me pull rank, Louis. I'm your lover *and* I'm older and
he wouldn't even know you if it wasn't for me."
"How do you figure that? You weren't even around at the time!"
"Precisely! If I hadn't made you into a vampire, then disappeared,
you would have had no reason to talk with Daniel at all."
I began to feel that pressure behind my eyes that I get whenever I
try to have these conversations with Lestat. "You are past all patience!
And stop looking at me that way! You're not goading me into something,
we're actually arguing and I don't care if you like how my eyes spark when
I yell at you like this! And stop grinning!"
"Aren't we in a mood?" Lestat made a face. "I wish I'd known that
before I came home tonight. I would have known not to waste my time.
You're clearly not interested in an evening with me tonight and nothing I
can do will change your mind so that you give me the slightest bit of
"If your attempts to change my mind are only further examples of how
much of a whining, petulant child you can be, you're correct."
His eyes darkened. "You watch what you say or I'll turn that young
friend of yours into a pile of ashes. What would you say to that, hmm?"
"You'd never do that. Either to him or to me."
He sighed. "The bluff was that transparent?"
"Only to me, my love. You're still as threatening as you ever were
to the population at large."
He laughed. "Fine. If it means that much to you, Daniel can stay."
"It does and thank you."
"I swear, there are times when I really hate the fact that you woke
up one night twenty years ago, looked into the mirror and said 'You know, I
feel chatty'." He picked up his coat and put it on. "I'll be back later."
"You don't have to leave," I said, holding him back.
He grimaced. "Trust me, I do."
I caressed his cheek with my hand. "I'll make it up to you later."
He took my hand, kissed it, then returned it to my side. "Don't
make this worse, Louis. Even as vampires, it can't be healthy."
I laughed. "Now you're only trying to make me feel bad about your
"That transparent again?" He kissed me and then left. I heard
Daniel greet him as he walked by and Lestat's quick grunt of a reply before
the front door slammed shut behind him.
"What's with him?" Daniel asked when I rejoined him.
"Nothing," I said. "Now then, let's talk."
"Good," Daniel said. "Where to? The library?"
I took Daniel by the arm and gently pulled him back from going in
that direction. "Ah, no. My study would be better, I think. Let's go
there. It's more comfortable and I have a feeling that it's going to be a
LESTAT'S JOURNAL ENTRY
I was *not* in a good mood. That much has to be obvious. Don't get
me wrong. Daniel's a nice friend, especially to Louis, but there are times
when I want to snap his neck in two for ever being so stupid as to fall in
love with Armand! Asking for stability in a relationship with Armand is
like asking for stability in a relationship with *me*, only worse. Let the
buyer beware. You get what you pay for and you can't always get what you
The fact that I had nothing to do wasn't helping. I'd planned on
spending the evening with Louis in various states of undress. I did *not*
plan on being out in the cold... well, alright, hot and humid New Orleans
streets, fending for myself. Hunting was out as I had fed more than I
needed to earlier, thinking that I would be sharing that blood with Louis.
It was too late for a show and most of the stores were closed. No, Lestat
de Lioncourt was *not* a happy man.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and settled into walking randomly
about town. I didn't pay attention to where I was going as I tried to
focus my energy on not finding out where Armand was and setting fire to
everything in that immediate area, including him. I took some delight in
seeing the mortals move out of my way as I passed by. Apparently my mood
was obvious to them as well.
"Let's see.... That frown, that glare, that tightly clenched
jaw.... It can only mean one thing: Lestat's not getting any."
I looked up. "Santino! What are you doing in America? What's the
matter, Santy Claus? Run out of cheap, Italian whores to keep you busy?"
"Yes. So I decided to see a cheap, French one instead." He
grinned. "And here I am with you. Coincidence? I don't think so."
I smiled and hugged him. "Have I told you how much I've missed you
and your sense of humor?"
"Well there's a good reason for that," I said. "Try to take the
hint next time."
"Charming as ever I see," he said. He flicked a stray black hair
into place. "And we all wonder why Louis hasn't dumped you by now. How
silly of us!" He grew sober. "How is he, by the way? I heard so many
things--is he alright?"
I shrugged. "He's managing."
Santino nodded. "And how about you, my friend? These recent events
could not have been easy on you either."
"I'll be the judge of that," he took me by the arm and steered me
towards a nearby cafe. "Come along. We both clearly have time on our
hands. We may as well spend it together if it kills us."
"What makes you think I have time on my hands?" I asked, but went
along with him.
"Lestat, please," he said. "I may not have seen you for a few
years, but give me some credit for knowing you and knowing that if you
weren't doing something else, you'd be with Louis. You're walking around
by yourself, you've got free time."
"Can't argue with that," I said. "I'm not *thrilled* with it, but I
can't argue with it."
He laughed. "Come on, let's continue this inside."
The cafe was crowded when we entered. It was of a moderate size and
was one of those ubiquitous coffee bars that I believe have become a state
requirement for each city. Santino and I found a free table and laid claim
to it before a group of young college-aged mortals beat us there. An
energetic waitress, one who I'm guessing samples too much of her employer's
product, took our order and supplied us with it almost immediately, then
disappeared into the crowd.
"Would you stop that?" Santino asked, moving his coffee to the side.
"What?" I had been pouring cream into the dark liquid and watching
the white clouds swirl inside the mug. "I'm simply sitting here. What on
earth could I have done in these few minutes to require a lecture?"
"You were flirting with the waitress."
"So, some of us haven't fed yet and might like a chance at the
mortals before the sun rises, if you don't mind."
"First of all," I said, "around these parts we call what I did with
her 'being nice'. Secondly, even if I was flirting, you can't blame me if
you're unable to hold her attention. Seduce your own mortals."
"I'd love to," he said, "but certain French brats always make sure
to grab all the attention for themselves before anyone else gets a chance."
"I'm doing no such thing, you're getting senile in your old age.
It'll be the fire for you any day now."
"You're doing it as we speak!" he said.
"You're giving the eye to that handsome young mortal over there.
And, because he's looking at you, all his friends are as well. I was going
to approach him myself but then you stepped in. The same with the
waitress. I'm almost tempted to say you're doing it on purpose."
"Santino," I said. "Don't flatter yourself into thinking that if I
needed a hobby, annoying you specifically would be it. I've better things
to do then to search your mind to try and find out who you're going to
seduce, then seduce them myself. And I still say I'm not attracting them."
"You are so!"
"I am not!"
"Yes, you are!"
"No, I'm not!"
"Oh for the love of God, Lestat. Yes you are!"
Santino and I both looked up in surprise when a female voice chimed
in. Jesse had joined us at our table.
"Jessica," Santino said. "What are you doing here?"
Jesse sat down in the chair next to me. "Getting frustrated by the
fact that the man I had nearly convinced to go back to his car with me was
too distracted by the appearance of Mr. Tight Pants over here to be of any
use. And, by the way, if you two are going to have a repeat of the great
intellectual conversation that I just interrupted, can you please be sure
to kill me first so I don't have to die of the embarrassment? And you
wondered why we fledglings have no respect for our elders!" She rolled her
"He started it," I grinned.
"Oh shut up," Santino said.
"Yes, do shut up," Jesse said, but winked at me in such a way that
Santino couldn't see.
:What are you doing in America, little sister?: I asked her as she
made small talk with Santino.
:I was born here, what's your excuse?:
:I colonized it.: She laughed, mentally. :Besides, you grew up in
New York. Why come to New Orleans if you're homesick?:
She gave a mental shrug. :No offense to you or Louis, but it was
just a whim, really. Although I would have come to see you eventually, of
"Why are you here, Lestat?" she asked out loud. I realized that the
spoken conversation had been about that topic.
"Yes," Santino said. "What force on earth could have pried you away
"Armand," I said. "And don't get me started."
"Where do I even begin to start?" Daniel had made himself
comfortable in one of the overstuffed leather chairs in my study. I took
the chair opposite from him and tried to be as sympathetic as I could.
"Was this something that occurred tonight?" I asked. "A particular
"Not exactly," Daniel sighed. "It wasn't that it was a particular
thing. It's more that this has been going on forever."
"I see," I said. "The letting out of pent up frustrations."
"Exactly!" Daniel said. "Don't get me wrong. I'm crazy about him.
When we're not fighting, things are great. Better than I've even known.
He can be romantic, funny, nice to be around. And the sex is incredible.
I mean really, really, *really*--"
"I believe I get the point, Daniel," I said, smiling gently to take
the sting out of my words.
"Oh, right. Sorry," Daniel flashed a quick smile. "I got a little
"I know the feeling. Please, continue."
"The problem is, when things aren't great, they're awful! There's
no inbetween. Either we're ripping each other's clothes off or throwing
each other off buildings."
"I know that feeling too," I said.
"How do you put up with it, Louis?" Daniel leaned forward. "You
live with Lestat, of all people! How do you manage not to--"
"Take him by the throat and threaten him with mortal harm?" I asked.
"Precisely," Daniel said, then laughed. I was relieved to see it.
"I don't know," I said. I rubbed my finger against my lower lip and
thought. "There is no formula, per se. I cannot tell you 'Oh, but if you
only do *this*, it will all work out' for there is no *this*."
"There must be something," Daniel said.
"Patience, I suppose." I thought some more. "A *lot* of patience.
But this is for Lestat, you understand. He could make St. Francis throw
up his hands in despair. I'm not sure if it would be accurate on my part
to suggest that how I manage to live with Lestat is the way for everyone to
manage to live with their lovers."
"Tell me anyway," Daniel leaned back against the chair again. "Give
me some measure of hope!"
I laughed. "Surely it is not that bad? Alright, let me think. I
must say, Daniel, this is the oddest question. I've never stopped to give
this much thought. I simply live with him, I do not give the process much
observation. Yes, there are moments when he drives me straight up a wall
but I think that in the end what does it is knowing that those are not all
that there is. We argue, we torment each other, yes. But we also support
one another. No matter what he may do, I always know that he will be there
for me when I need him. I think it is that which helps me not to strangle
"That's it?" Daniel asked. "No offense, Louis, but that's it?"
"Well," I said slowly, unable to stop myself from doing it, "as you
say, the sex is really, really, *really* good."
"Ha!" Daniel let out a bark of laughter then took on a look of mock
horror. "Surely this cannot be! Louis said the S word and it was not, how
do you say? Bull-shit?"
"Quiet you," but I was laughing as well. "You've been around Lestat
too long. I am not that horrible!"
"Oh come on, Louis, who are you trying to kid? I am that boy
reporter after all. I know what you're like and, quite frankly, Lestat
makes a good point about your--"
"Watch your choice of words, Daniel," I warned him playfully.
"Reserved?" He looked for my approval and continued after I nodded.
"I prefer to keep an air of dignity when I am speaking about
things," I said. "There was no need to talk about anything else of an
'unreserved' nature during our interview. My feelings for Lestat were not
the point so I chose not to bring them up."
"Of course," Daniel said. "And you hid it well too. I remember.
'The wine was working in him. He was horizontal--mellow! I meant to say
mellow! Oh, sorry, was that your tape recorder? Never mind, I'll buy you
a new one.'"
I was laughing in earnest now. "Alright," I said. "Perhaps I
wasn't as subtle as I thought I was."
"There's an understatement if I've ever heard one," Daniel said.
"But that's ok. Knowing you and how you were like then made it even better
when I saw you and Lestat together now."
"Thank you, my friend," I said.
"I just wish Armand and I could find that kind of a balance." He
grew quiet. "We weren't fighting tonight, you know. Not much. That's not
why I came here. I don't really mind the fighting. What I hate is when he
shuts me out. He pulls back sometimes and it's so far I have no idea how
to reach him. And that's scarier than the fights."
"Do you really think he'd leave you?" I asked.
"No," Daniel admitted. "But I wish he'd let me *in*."
"I know how you feel," I said. "Truly, I do. Lestat was like this
as well, when we first met. He and Armand are a lot alike, more alike then
they both care to admit. They both grew up in very, to put it politely,
uncaring environments and learned too well that shutting the world out
makes it all less painful."
"You lived with Armand once, what did you do?"
"We traveled together for a time, yes," I said. "But we were not
lovers. I was too grief-stricken over Claudia and even if I had known that
Lestat was not dead, I had only just realized the true depth of my feelings
for him. I sadly shut Armand out myself, back then. He tried to pull me
out, but I could never rouse myself enough to give him what he needed.
"You are in a unique position. You are the first person that Armand
has ever taken as a real lover, one that he wishes to make a commitment to.
Armand cares for you very much and because of that you see sides of him
that no one else, not even one of us, has ever seen. This is good for you
because it shows his feelings for you but it is bad in that you are in what
might be rightfully called uncharted territory."
"Tell me about it," Daniel sighed.
"What makes Armand different from Lestat," I continued, "is a rather
tragic difference. Though they both started out badly, Lestat met me very
early on in his life. He was still in his thirties and, while somewhat
removed, was active enough in the world that being with me and knowing that
he loved me had an effect on him. Armand had only the briefest time of
happiness before he lost it for over five centuries. He's had more
practice than Lestat at shutting the world out. There are so few people
that know him. In fact, I would wonder if any of us really knows *him*.
Except for you, that is."
"What about Marius?" Daniel asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I honestly don't. Marius did raise him
and make him his child, but they have spent so much time apart. You have
lived with Armand longer than Marius ever has. I cannot say if Marius can
claim to know him as well as you. But then again, who knows Marius that