Precious Blue
by elfin

"...and so I ask, what did your father promise you? Did he promise to take care of you? Did he keep his promise?"

for Father's Day - June 20th 1999

LaCroix stepped into the Azure feeling more than slight unease with himself. He still regretted what he had done here on Valentine's Day, not with Doctor Lambert, but with Nicholas. The situation had spiralled out of control faster than he had realized, and before he could stop himself he had the wooden pole in his hand and was threatening to stake his son. It had been laughable. The expression on Nicholas' face had been heart wrenching. He knew - although he was not sure if the other had known - that he wouldn't - couldn't - have carried through on his threat. How could he?

The restaurant was empty, booked by one person to give them privacy, as he had done in February. Candles burned in small groups around the split-level room. The gallery was darkened, with only one or two flames smouldering from low candelabras. A table was set on the ground level. It was not the one he had shared with Natalie, but one next to the glass front of the Azure.

His invitation had been simple and anonymous. 'Azure @ nine' had been printed on a small card that had been delivered with a single white rose just after sundown. He had no idea who had asked him here, although he was aware of the significance of the date. His cast out with his senses as he stood warily in the doorway. He could not find anyone lurking in the darkness. Not a single heartbeat strayed into his mind and he wondered for a moment whether this was a prank being played.

LaCroix stepped into the cool restaurant and approached the table that was set for dinner. Something had caught his eye as he had stood at the door. There was a vase of black and white roses in the centre of the table and next to that, on the fine cloth, something glinted in the candlelight. Slowly, LaCroix bent to pick up the pocket watch. He recognized it immediately without having to open the case. How had Nicholas ever gotten this back?

A slight sound on the balcony made LaCroix look up. His son was standing with his hands on the mezzanine railing. The rest of the gallery remained in darkness, with Nicholas framed by the black in the dim light of the candles. LaCroix could not speak. He still could not sense his child, despite him being so close and he realized now that he was being blocked. Nicholas was deliberately shielding himself, something the ancient had had no idea his son was capable of doing.

They stood in silence for several long seconds. The amber glow drew patterns across the heavy white silk of Nick's shirt, played in the golden locks of his hair, highlighted the red of his lips against the pale skin and danced in the sapphires of his eyes. LaCroix stared.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Nicholas smiled. He pointed a slim finger at the watch in his master's hand. "Magic."

A single word, yet LaCroix understood. He nodded. "Am I to take it back?"

Nick shook his head slowly.

Another second of silence ticked passed. Nicholas turned from the railing and started down the twisted staircase. LaCroix watched his every graceful move. When he reached the bottom steps, he spoke quietly. "When we were last here, you threatened to end my existence, to drive a wooden stake through my heart." LaCroix glanced away, and then forced himself to meet the sparkling blue gaze he knew so very well. "Why didn't you?" The question took the ancient by surprise, yet he wasn't given time to formulate any kind of reply. "I never believed the lies. You said that you wanted a higher price than Natalie for my sister. Was I supposed to fall for that?" LaCroix shook his head in honest resignation. "Then why? After all this time, after so much disappointment, after all the shame I have brought upon you and your house. Why do you not simply end it?"

LaCroix's almost instant reaction was a quick, cutting barb to deepen the cuts he had inflicted for so long. He bit back the comment just in time. His lips parted, and then closed again. As he looked at his child standing before him, he knew that finally the truth was all that remained. "You must know I cannot." He hesitated. The shadows played about them as if to taunt the ancient. Why were these words the most difficult to say?

"You are my son, Nicholas," he said finally, his voice no more than a whisper, the words spoken as if they were the only answer there was.

"But what does that mean?" Nick came closer, stepping around him to pluck one of the black roses from the vase. "It cost almost as much to buy these as it did to rent the restaurant. They are of the purest colour, making them very rare." Under his master's unwavering scrutiny, Nicholas touched his lips to the flower. "There was a time when that was how you made me feel. Precious, rare, as if there was nothing in the world that you wouldn't do for me. I believed, then, that you would always treasure me. I was wrong." Dropping the flower into his palm, he crushed it, driving the thorns into his flesh.

LaCroix smelt the copper scent of his creation's blood as the first drop formed around the rose's barbs. His eyes flashed at the spillage. Yet the words that Nicholas had spoken had been painful to hear, as the sudden unheeded tears on his son's cheeks were painful to see.

"You were not wrong." LaCroix reached out to take Nick's hand into his own. The fingers loosened and the dead flower fell to the floor. Already the small wounds had healed, leaving only traces of blood. The ancient held his son's wrist firmly as he drew a single finger across the reddened palm. "You are the rarest of my children, my most beloved son. Don't ever believe that I do not love you. I will always love you." Bowing his head, he softly kissed Nick's hand, touching his tongue to the cool flesh to lick the blood from that spot. "Remember, I am bound to you as you are to me."

Nick watched his sire bathe his palm. He had done this tonight simply to force the truth from his master. He could not go on running. "What do you want of me?"

LaCroix raised his head, licking quickly at his lips. Yet he still held his son's hand by the wrist. "I want you to come back to me. I want to call you my son and not have you snarl at me. I want to touch you and not have you shrug me away. I want you to accept my eternal protection, my gift to you as a father."

"And what of your gift to me as a vampire?"

LaCroix shook his head. "I will not ask you to return to the hunt. I'm not asking, Nicholas, for you to betray yourself. Just for you to stop betraying me."

Nick took the watch from LaCroix's other hand, that which was not holding him, and dropped it back into his own trouser pocket. He freed himself, and took both LaCroix's hands into his own. They stood face to face with only the truth between them. "I know I am far from blameless. Turning from you I should have taken the time to see what I was doing to you. After I gave you the watch back last year, I realized how cruel a thing it had been to do. After running for so long, I forgot what I was running from."

"From me. From my... 'evil' hold over you."

"No. Never evil." Nick looked up, almost smiling. "I would like to come back to you. As a son, as a vampire. But not as a slave."

LaCroix mirrored the smile. "Ah, Nicholas, you were never my slave. I was yours. I will always be yours." He met the brilliant blue eyes that were watching him steadily. "That is what makes you so very precious to me."

Nick dropped LaCroix's left hand and brought his right to his lips, kissing the ring on his little finger as he had so long ago. He had promised then to repay the ancient for his gift of eternal life. He had meant the payment to be of loyalty and respect. But it had instead been of hatred and violence. This time, he would keep his promise.

LaCroix brushed shaking fingers through his child's hair. When Nick raised his head, the ancient turned his hand and brought Nick's fingers to his own lips. Still he did not dare believe that this could be the end of the fighting. "My love for you is unconditional. I wish you would understand that, mon fils."

"I will try."

Finally they stood together as equals. LaCroix looked around them at the empty restaurant. Even the kitchen staff had been sent home. He hoped he could trust his own voice not echo the emotion within his dead heart. "So, Nicholas, tell me... what is on the menu tonight?"

Nick smiled and stepped forward, closing the gap between them as his fingers started to unbutton his own shirt. "Me."

LaCroix's eyes widened. He reached for his son, hesitating when his hands touched the silk of his shirt. "Nicholas...."

"I haven't bought you anything for Father's Day. I am your gift, if you want me."

LaCroix gathered Nicholas up in his arms, fitting his child to him. Nick embraced him, tucking his head under the pale chin. They had always fitted together in this way. Janette had once commented that they could have been made for one another, if it hadn't been for the millennia between their births.

When Nick pulled away, he did so slowly. Lifting his head, he kissed his sire. LaCroix stood still while Nick's tongue swept over his lips. //kiss me//

The words came from within his own mind, spoken to him in a way he had not experienced for hundreds of years. He had forgotten how intimate his bond with Nicholas had once been, how it had felt when his son had communicated with him deliberately in this way. //Nicholas....// LaCroix opened his mouth, his own tongue directing Nick's to explore him, to taste him. The ancient crushed his child against him, determined that this illusion would not fade. Yet Nick's sure caresses of his back and neck were not the movements of a phantom, of a dream. They were real. He was real.

Nick stepped back, smiling openly. LaCroix's eyes followed him as he moved to the table and finished unfastening his shirt. Taking another rose from the vase, Nick held it against his chest, and covering the thorny stem with his hands, he pressed it into his own flesh. He looked at LaCroix, his lips parted and his eyes gold-flecked eyes hooded, as the sharp barbs cut into him and the blood welled up from the shallow wounds.

LaCroix growled in arousal. At once he moved to take his son back into his arms, holding the child by his shoulders. Nick leaned back, trusting his father not to let him fall, allowing LaCroix to take the rose and drop it to the floor with the other. One by one each of the ruby droplets were kissed away by the ancient. LaCroix moved his lips over the pale chest and stomach, tasting his son as he had not for far too long.

Each drop was a gift. Each drop told of Nicholas' desire to stop the war that raged between them. Each drop was the honeyed essence of the being that LaCroix loved more than his own eternal life.

As his sire's sharp teeth scraped across his skin, Nick welcomed the vampire within himself. His senses slowly came to life. He heard the lapping of the water on the shores of the lake, the hum of the streetlights on the highway. But he was aware only of the proximity of his father, and the reverence with which the elder was tasting his blood.

Nick shuddered in LaCroix's arms. The ancient one stood, one hand remaining on his son's cool body. Unfastening his own shirt in one quick movement, he reached out and took another rose from the vase. Viciously drew the stem across his own chest, tearing a bloody line from his left nipple to the right side of his ribcage. "Feed from me."

The scent of his own creator's blood sang to him. Nicholas lowered his head and licked his tongue along the wound that LaCroix had inflicted upon himself. When he reached the torn nipple, he finally sank his teeth into the sensitive flesh, suckling at his father shamelessly.

LaCroix let out a howl of delight and triumph as his son's fangs buried into him. He held the blond head in place, wrapping his other arms around Nicholas' shoulders. LaCroix's head dropped back, his eyes blazing red.

Knowing, sensing the building need within them both, Nick raised his wrist to his father's mouth. Instead of biting, LaCroix wrapped long fingers around the offering, and lowered them both swiftly to the floor. Nick went without question, his fangs remaining in his father's flesh, his tongue flicking over the slick nipple between his lips.

With his son cradled in his arms, LaCroix brought the given wrist to his mouth and slipped his teeth into the skin. At once the crimson liquid hit the back of the ancient's throat. He moaned into the wound, sinking his fangs deeper, drinking at the same slow pace with which Nicholas was taking from him.

Like an exquisite statue they sat still as stone on the floor of the candlelit restaurant. The intimacy of the blood sharing brought them back full circle to the years of peace that they had once known.

Slowing and stopping his drinking, Nick pulled his teeth from the pale skin and sucked at the wound until it healed. LaCroix's blood had shown him the truth; the love and desire his master still felt for him. The darkness that Nick had always recognized in his sire's blood was no longer a threat.

LaCroix kissed Nicholas' wrist before releasing it. He wrapped his arms around his child as the cool body burrowed closer to him. "Do you see how easy it is to be my son?" Nick lifted his head, his eyes questioning. "You allow me to hold you, yet you remain in control of this encounter. You brought us to this place, Nicholas, through your own undying strength. No one, not even I, could ever take that from you."

Nick rolled his eyes, and smiled knowingly. "In 800 years, LaCroix, you are the only thing that hasn't changed."

LaCroix held his son close to him, kissing the blond head. "And in 1900 years, Nicholas, you are the best Father's Day present I have ever received."

fin
elfin

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