Intoxicating, Isn't It? May 2003 - Posted September 2003 Jarvinia This was written at 35,000 feet (on a plane) out of sheer boredom on the way back from a funeral the 17th of May.... But...none of that has anything to do with this...uh...story...if you can even call it one, that is. More of a scene, really. I don't own Forever Knight, I'm just borrowing Nick and LaCroix for a very short time. I'm putting them back more or less unharmed. May not be archived without permission, but if you'd like to, please ask. Feedback much appreciated. ~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~ Intoxicating, Isn't It? (01/01) Nick pulled an unmarked green glass bottle out of his fridge, hastily taking a drink from it. He'd worked late and barely made it home before dawn--only a few minutes to spare. He was tired and hungry, and passed the taste in his mouth off at first, thinking it was just his imagination. Lowering the bottle and closing his eyes he felt his insides rebel upon realising the blood was human. He immediately replaced the bottle, practically shoving it onto the shelf. Quickly checking the others, he found them all filled with human blood. He slammed the refrigerator door and glared at the appliance. A chuckle rose from behind him, mocking him. Nick turned, only to find LaCroix standing across the room, an insane grin on his face. "Poor Nicky is upset..." LaCroix teased, continuing the laugh for several more seconds. "You did this." "Of course." LaCroix moved closer, his gait not quite steady. "I just thought you could use a change." Another laugh, this one more of a giggle, flowed easily from LaCroix' lips. "It's not funny." Nick angered and his sire only laughed louder. "This isn't funny, LaCroix!" "It would be if you were standing where I am." The giggle abruptly stopped, being replaced by an oddly calm expression. "You've played your joke, now get out." Nick turned around and walked further into the kitchen. Hands spun him around a moment later and he came face to face with his father. The laughing started up again, and this time he nearly lost it. "What?! You've had your fun. Now leave me alone!" "Aww.... Mon fils.... What's the matter, mon petit Nicolas?" Nick shrugged out of the other's grip--which was a surprisingly simple task. Another giggle. LaCroix was enjoying this greatly. He approached his son, stepping behind the younger man. "We're all entitled to a little fun from time to time. Come with me tomorrow night. Hunt with me. Relax and have a bit of fun for a change!" Nick's eyes went slightly wide. "You went hunting...killing. That's why you're like this." "Like what?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly, almost squeaking. His eyes turning to suspicious slits, Nick demanded, "What have you been drinking?" "Human, of course. Young ecstatic youth, to be precise." Leaning forward, he whispered into the younger's ear, "You should have it more often, you know. Especially fresh. Take them and take their blood. Feel their life slipping away and into you. Taste it and taste it again. Let the flavour *explode* in you!" LaCroix released a high-pitched chuckle, which settled down after a few seconds. Nick shifted, turning to face his father. LaCroix was...drunk, or something. He'd never seen LaCroix quite like this...close, but not quite. Twisting so that they were again facing one another, he felt LaCroix grip him tightly by the arms. "Go. Go before the sun comes up." "It practically is. You wouldn't send your poor father into bright, scorching daylight, now would you?" LaCroix softly laughed, becoming suddenly light-headed. He let it pass, and then suggested, "You should taste some.... Taste my blood and see what I've been...feasting upon." Prying the fingers from him, Nick heard the other chuckle again, the sounds now coming in half-giggles alternated with a tired, nearly sober stance. As he was supporting more and more of LaCroix' weight, Nick soon found his sire leaning completely against him. Another high-pitched giggle slipped out. "Hmm...guess perhaps I had a bit too much...." The words trailed off and he became dizzy again. Now Nick was supporting all of his sire's weight, and LaCroix went first silent, and then limp. He let LaCroix slide down to the floor, gently lowering the elder vampire. Releasing LaCroix, Nick stood back and stared at the pile on the ground, where LaCroix lay, slightly curled and in a deep sleep. He stood immobile as the sun rose, tempted to leave LaCroix there and let him sleep his stupor off. He turned and started away, but stopped. If their roles were reversed, he knew LaCroix would probably do just what he was considering. But then, LaCroix equally might not. He started walking again, then stopped and looked back. There LaCroix was, lying pitifully on the floor little different than dead. Nick walked back to his sire and knelt down. He shook his head at the sight before him. This wasn't something often seen--by anyone. LaCroix usually kept his guard up...but certainly wasn't right now; couldn't right now. Reaching down and over the other, Nick took one of LaCroix' wrists. After a moment, he bit gently into the skin, his fangs creating a small pair of scratches in the flesh. The elder vampire didn't react. A few droplets of bright red blood came to the surface and he licked them away. He cringed. LaCroix had killed at least three people that night--and all had been intoxicated in some fashion. Either alcohol, drugs, or both. If LaCroix were mortal, he would have been killed several times over with the amount of toxins in his blood. It was really quite amazing his sire had made it this far before collapsing. LaCroix might be a vampire, but vampires weren't invincible. He continued to stare down on his sire. The elder vampire would remember this, he was sure; perhaps never speak of it, as LaCroix would never directly admit that he was not free of harm such as this, but LaCroix would indeed remember this. Considering that, Nick rethought his decision to just leave his sire there. If he left LaCroix where he lay, he would sleep upstairs. If he moved LaCroix, he would take the other up to his room and then take the couch for himself--where he had been sleeping the last few weeks to begin with. Not only that, but he had no wish to make LaCroix' departure too simple. Deciding, he shifted and reached under LaCroix, picking his father up. Still, no reaction came, proving that the other was indeed unconscious. In a matter of seconds he flew them to the upper level, his indulgence in his nature missed by his sire. He walked into his room and laid LaCroix down on the bed. Pulling the comforter down and from under the other, Nick then pulled the covers back up, tucking LaCroix in. Stepping back, Nick stared down at LaCroix. He didn't often get to see LaCroix asleep--only on occasions when they'd travelled together and shared the same room, most of which were not recent. While sleeping, LaCroix lost his sternness, lost his invincibility. It was simply odd to see LaCroix so vulnerable. Odd, but for some reason comforting. Aware it would take time for LaCroix' blood to cleanse itself, Nick sat on the edge of the bed and simply stared and thought. After a moment, he stood and left the room. Less than a minute later, he returned and again sat on the bed, knife in hand. Pushing the covers aside and pulling LaCroix' arm up, he slid closer. Nick sliced into his sire's arm with the blade after a moment of hesitation, and then did the same to his own arm. Gripping LaCroix' hand in his so that the wounds pressed against each other, he felt his blood flow from him, the other vampire's body aware it needed fresh, clean blood. Nick sat in place as long as he could. There was no change in LaCroix, nor had he really expected one. LaCroix would recover, but he would sleep at least through the day, perhaps longer. He knew the other would sense the blood flowing in him, but he didn't particularly care. At least it would give something for his sire to think about when he woke and realised what had happened. Finally pulling his hand away, Nick stood and felt himself sway slightly. He nearly laughed. Now he was the one that needed blood...and the only blood in the loft was what was in the refrigerator. LaCroix' little trick had paid off after all. He left the room, closed the door, and headed downstairs for the day. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Taking a deep breath, LaCroix sat up. He put his hand to his head out of instinct, his head somewhere between wanting to explode and wanting to send him back into unconsciousness. He closed his eyes for a moment and let himself recover a little more. When he again opened them, he looked down at his arm to see that his sleeve had been pulled up. That, and a few drops of dried blood stained his arm. He was at his son's, and Nicholas had given him blood--a diluted portion of the younger vampire's essence still flowing through him. He stood, immediately wishing he had waited a moment longer when he had to reach down to catch himself with the edge of the bed. Straightening, he then headed slowly toward the door, opened it, and headed down the stairs. Crossing the room, LaCroix walked up to the couch to where Nicholas was sleeping. Two bottles of blood sat nearby. As he vaguely remembered replacing the bovine blood with human, he knew what that meant. Yet, he was neither pleased nor anything else knowing that Nicholas had actually drunk the blood. LaCroix was tempted to wake the younger up, but stopped himself before approaching. He knew Nicholas was not at all pleased by his little visit, and that it would only be a mistake to wake him...particularly considering he wasn't entirely himself at the moment. He was awake and standing, but knew a conversation would quickly deteriorate if he tried. Walking over to the stairs LaCroix silently left, not quite ready to try flying just yet. He needed to wait a moment before doing that, but he wanted to leave before Nicholas woke. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. About an hour after sunset, Nick started awake. Closing his eyes, he realised LaCroix was already gone. It saddened him somewhat that his sire just left...and yet it was just like LaCroix to do that. A faint smile came to his lips as he wondered just what the other was thinking right now...after waking up here and knowing what had happened. Getting off the couch and going to the kitchen, he pulled out another of the bottles. He drank straight from the bottle, the taste of human blood trickling down his throat. It unnerved him a little, but he could get more blood from the butcher later--either tonight or the next. It was either human blood, or go hungry...and he'd rather take the human. A day wouldn't hurt, and, after all, he had given LaCroix much of his blood that morning. He continued to reason with himself as he drank the bottle. In the end, there was only a few drops' worth coating the sides and on the bottom--barely a swallow's worth. He smiled slightly again, staring through the green glass. He wasn't angry. Annoyed, but within limits. LaCroix' little joke had worked this time, but he knew his sire would not do this again. If LaCroix ever did, he'd make sure the elder vampire was paid back, that's for sure. He smiled and drank what remained in the bottle, almost hoping for that opportunity. ~finis~ Jarvinia jarvinia@gmx.com @>--,---`---