Date: Sun, 7 Jun 1998 17:48:28 PDT Reply-To: Dark Hearts Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Dark Hearts Subject: Uninvited (01/01) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Disclaimer: Standard stuff, I don't own Vachon (darn!) or Tracy, et al... permission given to archive at Mel's, Bonnie's or ftp sites, as with any of my previous posts. (I think I had forgotten to mention this before.) All other's please ask. Thanks. ------ "Uninvited" by Trish Troupe Beta by Janis c 1998 The wind billowed the curtains on the open window inward. With a rush of air, Vachon landed in Tracy's living room. He remained still for a moment, using all his senses to prowl the small apartment, quickly locating Tracy's familiar heart beat and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing as she slept. It had not been a good night. He had been in a bad mood to begin with, his head and his heart in a tumult over a mortal... then, while he was at the Raven happily drowning his sorrows, Urs had begun harping on him. 100 years and she still couldn't manage to make any decisions on her own. He sighed. Like a large and dangerous cat, Vachon made his way to Tracy's bedroom, his vampire vision able to pick out every nuance in the inky darkness. As he passed the bathroom, the slight shimmer of water dripping in the tub caught his eye for a moment, then the scent of her blood combined with that of the warm summer evening filled him, leading him to her. Unaware of his presence, she shifted in her sleep, the soft sound of her skin against the linen loud in his ears. He shrugged to allow his leather jacket to slip off his shoulders, placing it on a chair near her bed. He stood beside her sleeping form, staring at the silver halo of her hair in the moonlight, his eyes drinking in the delicate features of her face. He watched her nostrils flare as she took in her next breath, and his eyes slipped unconsciously to the artery that pulsed at her throat. "Oh, Trace...," he murmured. Desire swept over him in an unexpected wave, and he stepped back to lean against the wall. Nothing in his five hundred years had prepared him for her and the effect she had on him. He had wanted hundreds of mortal women, had taken hundreds of them, always regretting the inevitability of their demise, but never letting that fact keep him from what he wanted. She had no idea what she did to him or the amount of self restraint that was required to keep himself from embedding his fangs in her warm, sweet flesh. Even the nights he spent alone in his bed imagining it, the sheets twisted tight into the fists of his hands, didn't lessen his desire for her. Willing the vampire in him back into the dark, haunted thing that had become his soul, he knelt beside her. She shifted again, pulling the sheet down, exposing the tip of one breast as her nightgown slipped off her shoulder. 'Merida...,' he swore in his mind. How he longed to suckle on the rosebud tips of her nipples. To feel the press of her silken flesh against the hard muscled planes of his chest as he buried himself home inside her... "Vachon...," she whispered softly. Startled, he moved back at vampire speed and into the shadows. He stood motionless until he was satisfied that she was still sleeping. With a sigh, he picked up his jacket, shrugging as silently back into it as he had out of it. He moved close to her again. He reached out for a brief moment, as if to caress her, but pulled his hand back when he was inches from her skin. He shook his head sadly. "Mi corazsn...," he whispered. "Help me, Tracy. I don't know what to do." But she was too deep into her dreams to answer him. Seconds later, Tracy woke up with a start. She sat up in bed, a slightly confused look crossing her face. "Vachon?" she called. But he was gone. All Tracy saw was the curtains on the open window billowing inward on the whispers of the warm summer wind. -- Finis Comments to: Trish Troupe