Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 18:50:02 -0400 
 From: vampwrtr@INNOCENT.COM 
Subject:      Gentle Rain 1/1 
To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU 

usual disclaimers.  permission to mel to archive.  comments to author at
vampwrtr@aol.com/vampwrtr@innocent.com.  happy independance day to all to
whom it applies.

FOREVER KNIGHT

"Gentle Rain"

Southern France, 1889

It was unbearably hot, sticky and humid.  It was too hot for any creature
to sleep during the day, much less one such as he.  He sensed a thickness
to the air.  The kind of weight that an overcast day typically exhibits.
He gave up any thought of rest and moved over to the window, which was
covered with a heavy, dense velvet curtain.  Carefully he lifted a corner
away from the window frame, and just as he suspected, it was extremely
overcast and dark grey outside.  His eyes squinted involuntarily ever so
slightly.  Even the light from an overcast sky could cause one of his kind
to flinch.

He pulled the curtain back further, allowing more of his skin to be
subjected to whatever light was making it through the clouds.  Nothing.  No
sizzling, no burning.  The haze was enough to protect him from the sun.  It
had been a long time since he had wandered out during the day.  Perhaps it
was just what he needed to relieve his sudden attack of doldrums.

Bundled up far more than anyone should be on such a muggy day, LaCroix left
his flat and headed toward the center of the small town.  It was fairly
quiet in the square, most people sought protection in the shade of their
homes, or out on the coast, trying to stay cool.  He walked through the
open vegetable and fruit stalls, receiving his share of odd stares.  He
glared back at one vendor, causing the man to quickly look away.  And it
was then, out of the corner of his eye, that he saw her.

She was just slipping around the corner of a building.  He probably
wouldn't have noticed, except that one of her stature and colouring was an
odd find in the south of France.  He quickly moved toward the cobblestoned
alley through which she had disappeared.  He caught up with her as she
rounded another corner, heading out of the centre of town.  He kept a
discreet distance.

It was slightly misty from all the humidity, and a tiny breeze had begun to
move through the streets, carrying a variety of smells with it.  LaCroix
honed in on the smell that interested him most:  Her blood.  It was filled
with honeysuckle and orange.  At least those were the two predominant
aromas that he breathed in.  His eyes tinged slightly gold as he followed
her through the outskirts of the small town.  He knew if he was patient, he
would find her in an isolated area soon enough.  His hunger called to him,
and the smell of her blood teased his tongue.

Within a short time, he had followed her down a country road.  It was a
narrow dirt path, well worn from pedestrians, horse hooves and wheel marks
from wagons.  Soon she turned off this path and began walking through a
field of lilacs and trees.  He smiled as he took in the sight of her
beauty.  Her long blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and seemed to
almost become a part of the white linen clothing she wore.  As he watched
her walk through the field, a gentle rain began to fall.

The woman headed toward the cover of the trees, and LaCroix followed her,
still at a discreet distance, and with the stealth of his kind.  The rain
added another pleasant fragrance to that of her blood, as it fell into the
trees and onto the ground.  He watched as she stopped under a large tree.
It was clear that she was enjoying the rain and the smells of the earth
that greeted her.  He watched as she tilted her head back to let the rain
fall through the branches and gently hit her face.  The long and graceful
curve of her neck was completely exposed to him.  He could wait no longer.

Within seconds he was behind her, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her
into him.  His left hand pulled her head back and to the side, and fangs
fully extended, he prepared to strike.  Something stopped him.  He wasn't
even sure what it was - she had not uttered so much as a startled gasp.
But then, that was it.  The silence had stopped him.

Still holding her, he closed his eyes as his fangs retracted.  He
concentrated upon her heartbeat; it was normal.  No fear, no shock, no
terror.  Nothing, except for a little tinge of excitement.  Slowly he
turned her around in his arms, to face him.  He opened his eyes and stared
into her light green ones.  Her full pink lips curled into a smile as she
stared into his eyes.  For a long moment, they stared at each other.  She
finally spoke, her Parisian accent lilting, with a low sound; a sound that
threatened to soothe even a beast such as he.

"You sir have been following me."

LaCroix merely stared at her with a non expression plastered upon his face,
though he still held her quite tightly in his arms.

She continued, undaunted by his silence, "Ever since the town
square......What is it that you want?"

He still refrained from answering, and she smiled even wider, "But I think
I know what it is that you want."  She looked at him playfully, but
carefully, "You are not from this town, or I would know you."

"No, I am not."

"Where are you from?"

"Everywhere and nowhere."

"That is a most curious answer."

"Is it?"

"Yes.  But then, I have never met anyone like you."

"You're quite right, but how do you know this?"

"I am a woman.  You are a man.  What more do we need to know?"

They stared into each other's eyes.  A silent bargain being struck and
agreed upon.  She backed away from him slightly, and slowly, making sure he
was watching her every move, she slipped out of her clothing.  LaCroix had
seen much beauty in his many centuries, but he felt his breath catch in his
throat at the sight before him.

He stood perfectly still as she moved toward him, wrapping her arms around
his neck and pressing firmly into him.  She took his lips with her own, and
he felt himself becoming lost in the sensations of her mouth.  The rain
began to pick up speed as it pounded down onto them.  It matched the fury
of LaCroix' passion, and the rhythm of his movements.  Thunder rumbled
somewhere off in the distance.  It was a sound echoed by the two lovers as
they explored each other.  The rain drenched them as they united, the
resonation of it's pounding, almost deafening.  And neither of them noticed
it.

****************

Toronto, 1999

Nick sat impatiently staring at the chess board in front of him, and the
irritating opponent across from him.  He glanced at his watch:  Twenty-one
minutes.  It had been twenty-one minutes since Nick had moved his rook,
taking LaCroix' queen, and he was still waiting for the shoe to drop.  Nick
cleared his throat.  LaCroix did not seem to notice.  The Ancient just
continued to stare at the chess board, as if lost in some other world.

The sound of rain gently hitting the roof filled the apartment.  Off in the
distance Nick could hear a small rumble of thunder.  He stared again at
LaCroix.

"LaCroix....."

"Hmmm?"

"Are you going to sit there all night, or are you going to make a move?"

LaCroix frowned at Nick, "When I am ready, I assure you, Nicholas, I shall
make my move."

"While I'm young, LaCroix....."

LaCroix grinned slightly, "But you will always be that, Nicholas."

"You know what I mean...."

There was something strange about LaCroix.  Nick stared at the elder's eyes
and he could see the faraway mist in the orbs of ice blue.

"Is everything all right, LaCroix?"

"Of course."

The sound of the rain picked up as it began to pound the roof.  LaCroix
looked even further away.  He leaned back into his chair, staring off into
nothing.  He had not thought of her in almost a century, and yet the simple
sound of a summer rain pounding the roof brought it all back, as though it
had been yesterday.  Nick frowned at his father.

"LaCroix.....you seem.....different somehow."

LaCroix looked at Nick, his face stern at first, but the austerity melted
into a much softer countenance.

"I was just thinking of something."

"What were you thinking?"

LaCroix smiled again at his son, and then he looked away, "Nicholas, some
memories are sweeter left unshared."

Nick smiled and nodded in acquiescence.  The sound of the pounding rain and
thunder lessened and momentarily it returned to a gentle ping upon the
roof.  LaCroix listened to the gentle rain for another moment, then looked
down at the chess board and moved his knight.

"Checkmate."

The End

4 July 1999

end part 1/1
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