Date: Mon, 9 Dec 1996 10:12:59 -0500
From: Cousin Jules <KnightGal@AOL.COM>
To: Multiple recipients of list FKFIC-L <FKFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
Subject: Interlude with Some Vampires (1/1)

I'm sorry, everyone...I just can't seem to say good-bye to Nat and Lacroix.
 (For those who aren't sure what I'm talking about, see "Unforeseen
Occurrences", "Journey" and "Before the Dawn."  Please forgive me for the
following bit of fluff.

Interlude with Some Vampires (1/1)
Copyright 1996

     Natalie descended the staircase and was about to turn towards the
kitchen when the sound of rustling paper caught her attention.  She entered
the drawing room to find Lacroix on the floor, rummaging through a large
trunk.  At least, she *thought* it was Lacroix.  She could only see the very
top of his head as small wads of paper came flying above him left and right.
 Nat was sure there eventually would be some kind of order after the chaos,
but what exactly the goal was, she couldn't be sure.  She walked over to the
trunk, hands on hips, and looked over the raised lid.
     "*What* is all this?" she asked.
     "What do you think it is?" Lacroix queried in reply.
     On the mantelpiece of the large marble fireplace were the beginnings of
some kind of holly and ivy decoration.  Assorted candles were placed about
the room.  Wrapping paper of various kinds was piled up in one corner of the
large settee.
     "It looks like you're getting ready for Christmas," she said innocently.
     "*Please*," Lacroix said, looking as though he'd just tasted an inferior
vintage.
     "Well," she began as she pointed to the various decorations, "I see
holly, ivy, candles, wrapping paper, and who knows what else you've got in
that trunk, and" she continued as she picked up the desk calendar and turned
it in his direction, "it *is* December."
     "Correct on all counts," he told her as he rose from the mess.  "Still,
you're wrong."
    "*I'm* wrong, huh?"
     "Very much, ma petite.  What you see are some of the last, true vestiges
of a good old Roman Saturnalia."
     "You had wrapping paper?" Natalie asked, incredulous.
     Lacroix pretended to be offended.  "Perhaps *not* wrapping paper, but
the Roman Empire was not exactly Outer Mongolia, either."
     "My *apologies*," Nat replied with mock seriousness, trying not to break
into hysterics.  "History never was my strong point."
     "That much is obvious."
     It was Nat's turn to look offended.  (Of course, she really *was*
offended, but this is supposed to be a funny story, so let's move on, shall
we?)
     Natalie punched him in the arm.  It didn't hurt.  Not much.
     "*If* you had studied ancient history," Lacroix began to pontificate as
he walked about the room, "you'd realise that nearly everything you associate
with Christmas pre-dated that charming celebration by *centuries.*
 Constantine has *much* to answer for," he stated with no small amount of
disdain.
     "OK, so, did you have Santa Claus?"
     "No.  Instead, we had a rather generously-sized Saturn - the god, not
the car - who presided over the season.  He was a great orgiast of eating,
drinking and various kinds of naughtiness."
     "Oh," she said, trying not to sound put off.  "Did you exchange gifts?"
     "Oh, yes.  And the children often received small wax dolls."
     "Awww!" Nat exclaimed.  "How cute!"
     "Cute, yes, well," he said.
     "*Now* what???" she asked in exasperation.
     "My contemporaries thought this probably a vestige of human child
sacrifice, something done to aid the sowing of crops."
     "Ewwwwwwww!" Nat said, thoroughly disgusted.
     "Precisely," Lacroix continued.  "So much for 'cute'."
     "What kind of gifts did the adults get?"
     "Oh, we exchanged gold and silver items quite frequently, though we
would also exchange branches from holy trees is so-called 'sacred' groves.
 We would decorate the house with them."
     "Uh huh," Natalie responded.  "Sooooo..."
     "Yesssss?" he asked in an increasingly playful tone of voice.
     Nat walked over to the fireplace to finger the holly and ivy.
     "Do I want to know what *this* symbolised, if anything?" she asked,
silently hoping she could at least look at the greenery in future and not
think of a bunch of old Romans at a wild party.
     Without warning, Lacroix was suddenly behind her, wrapping his arms
about her waist and putting his lips close to her ear.
     "It symbolised male and female."  He said this in such a devilishly
sensual tone that her knees nearly slid out from under her.  All of a sudden,
she didn't mind the history lesson.
     "Oh," she said in a tiny voice.  Well, what passed for a voice.  Her
throat, not so strangely, had become quite tight.  She walked over to the
doorway to get her bearings.  "I think I'll just..."
     In another second, he was at her side again.
     "Ah, not so fast," he told her, pointing up to show her the mistletoe.
     Nat looked at him out of the corners of her eyes.
     "*Another* ancient Roman custom????"
     "Alas, no," Lacroix answered.  "Actually, it's a very quaint Druid
custom, though Julius Caesar *did* import it, and..."
     The lecture was cut short by a passionate kiss from Natalie.
     "Thank goodness for the import/export business," she said, then went
back to kissing him again, pleased that *she* had thrown him off guard this
time.  He drew back from her, then took her hand and led her over the settee,
pulling her down almost on top of him and just missing all the wrapping
paper.  Nat rolled her eyes as the next lesson began.
     "Have I ever told you about the origins of New Year's festivals?  No?
 It's really quite fascinating.  It goes back to an ancient Roman..."

The End