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Summary: It�s red and it goes splat! and for once it�s not someone�s heart.
* * *
There was an angry crowd outside the
Circus, and an angrier one inside, and Asher was wondering where the
hell Jean-Claude had gone. Most of the people he met look exhausted,
like they went through this twice a night, and were too tired to get
scared by it anymore. Unfortunately, it seemed they were not tired enough
not to recognize him as Jean-Claude's second-in-command, and address
him as such. �
'What are you going to do?' was a popular
question, asked by over half of the people he encountered. The others
asked him 'What are /we/ going to do?'. Asher wasn't quite sure if that
order was a good or a bad sign, so he mentally made a note to ask Jean-Claude
about the significance of people thinking 'you' before thinking 'us'.
Jean-Claude was good at stuff like that. He'd got books on subjects
like management and public relations, as if knowing how to draw an organizational
chart and how to balance a data-flow was going to make people see him
as less of a threat to humankind.�
The crowd didn't make it easy for anyone
to get anywhere, but Asher knew he'd just make it more difficult for
himself in the long run if he were to resort to anything so crude as
using his supernatural strength or, heavens forbid, actually declaring
himself to be an alpha, with more right to get where he wanted to be
than normal people. Age had not merely sharpened Jean-Claude's intelligence;
it had also turned him into a stickler for rules - which Asher would
have found less of a bother if Jean-Claude hadn't made it very clear
that absolutely nobody would be permitted to break his rules, old friends
and lovers or not. Asher was all in favor of Jean-Claude establishing
his authority over the vampires in his territory, but he preferred not
to be subjected to any of that authority himself.�
Halfway to the entrance to the rooms
below the Circus, Asher spotted Gregory, who waved and yelled 'Hi!'
in a cheerful tone that made Asher want to strangle him. Lucky for Gregory,
the crowd hid him again too quickly for a reply, plunging Asher once
again into a mass of people he only knew vaguely who seemed to expect
him to tell them what to do. His temper getting the better of him, Asher
snapped that they had best get out of his way unless they wished him
to tear out their throats. He received a few looks that doubted his
sanity, and no more space than before, although he did feel a little
better after his outburst. As long as he didn't actually make good on
his threat, he felt sure Jean-Claude would forgive him, if he were ever
to hear of it.�
Meng-Die and Faust were, apparently,
on guard-duty, glaring at anyone who dared to so much as breath at them.
Asher breezed past them, not even waiting for them to nod their permission.
He knew who he was, and where he stood with Jean-Claude, and they knew
it, too.�
Freed from the restraints of Jean-Claude's
proscribed behavior in places where humans might see him, it took Asher
less than fifteen seconds to reach Jean-Claude's private quarters, where
he nearly bumped into Richard, who stood leaning against the wall left
of the door, like some pupil who got sent to the hallway for being naughty.
From Richard's stance, Asher concluded that his approach had been noticed
about five seconds before he got there, which was impressive.�
"Is Jean-Claude inside?" Asher
asked, just to have an excuse to talk to Richard. With Jean-Claude having
gotten so stuck-up about currying favor with the general human public
recently, teasing Richard had become one of life's few remaining simple
pleasures. Besides, Asher wanted to know, and Richard would probably
tell him. Richard had been raised to be polite to his elders, after
all, even if his hair still looked like it got cut with something one
uses to trim the hedge. It was a pity, Asher thought. Richard would
be even more fun to tease if he got himself a girlfriend.�
"Yes, he is." Richard looked
disgusted. It was reassuring in a way; Richard'd never give him a look
like that if Jean-Claude would be lying there inside, with more important
parts of him injured than merely his pride, wounded by tonight's show
of human hostility.�
Asher opened the door and peered inside.
Jean-Claude preferred for his lighting to be low on the watts, and easy
on the supernatural eye. Richard grumbled something, too low even for
Asher to make out, but he decided to take it as a hint and walked inside.
The room was crowded, not crammed as the Circus, but closer than Asher'd
have liked. Most of the people present were vampires - Damian was standing
near an antique closet, looking like he'd like to hide in it, while
Willie McCoy was cowering in a corner, doing his best to ignore Valentina,
who was gesturing animatedly. Several other vampires were watching,
all of them fairly new to St. Louis, probably not yet familiar with
the way things were run here. Asher made a mental note to have a chat
with them later, just in case Valentina had given them some wrong ideas
about what to do when a human bothered them.�
One corner of the room seemed to have
been claimed by wererats, with Rafael sitting on a poof and managing
to look regal and patient, surrounded by three or four people whom Asher
didn't immediately recognize. Sylvie and, surprisingly, Christine had
managed to conquer the smaller couch. The big one was, of course, occupied
by Jean-Claude. �
A spot of red stained the lace of Jean-Claude
white shirt, and it took Asher three deep breaths to realize that if
it was blood, it wasn't enough to indicate a lethal injury. Besides,
the mood in the room seemed to be excited, not anticipatory. �
"Asher!" Jean-Claude's voice
somehow managed to make itself heard over all the other conversations,
and for one moment, Asher felt like everyone was staring at him. It
didn't help that they actually /were/. It /did/ help that he no longer
thought of himself as ugly.�
Jason grinned at him, already moving
away from his spot at Jean-Claude's side to make place for Asher, unceremoniously
shoving Stephen off the couch and earning a dirty look from Gregory,
who'd somehow managed to get here before Asher. At Jean-Claude's other
side, Nathaniel seemed uncertain about what to do. In front of Anita,
he might seem more self-assured, but here, in a room full of people
most of whom were more dominant than he, Nathaniel went back to being
what he used to be, indecisive and more than happy to have other people
make up his mind for him.�
"Shouldn't you be out there?"
Asher gestured at the door. "In case you missed it, there's an
enraged mob outside the Circus."�
Jean-Claude closed his eyes, as if in
pain, and the room abruptly went quiet, with everyone turning their
attention to the two vampires in the center, one draped on a couch,
the other standing, hands on hips.�
"It is not," Jean-Claude murmured,
"an angry mob. It is merely a group of people demonstrating against
the entertainment provided in the Circus. There should be no problem,
if my people behave themselves according to my instructions."�
Asher wondered if Jean-Claude knew he
started talking like a vampire in a twentieth-century B-movie whenever
he was tense, or felt that someone was questioning his authority.�
"Fine, it's a peaceful demonstration."
Asher gracelessly dropped himself on the other end of the couch. "I'm
sure you'd know better than me, seeing as how I've only seen it fifteen
minutes ago."�
Jean-Claude pouted, either at Asher
not placing himself within touching range, or at his sarcasm. "As
long as they stay outside, there is but little I can legally do."�
"Human laws!" Valentia scoffed.
"What use do we have for those?"�
"They protect us," Jean-Claude
said calmly. "And them," he added, seeing the expression on
Valentina's face. "Eventually, they will provide a way for humans
and ... others to peacefully co-exist."�
"And until that day, you would
allow for them to disrespect us." Valentina sneered.�
"I will not kill a human merely
for disrespecting me, no," Jean-Claude confirmed. "However,
the same does not go for a vampire to whom I have extended the hospitality
of my Kiss."�
Valentina pressed her lips together,
then shook her head and returns to the circle of onlookers, reminding
Asher that he might have used the respite provided by her to think of
something useful to say, something to move Jean-Claude to take action.�
"I have, in fact, made an effort
to address the crowd," Jean-Claude informed Asher. "The result,
you see before you." Jean-Claude dramatically spread out his arms,
the bright red spot on his shirt standing out clearly. "I will
not speak to those who wish not to hear."�
"They have wounded you?" Asher
frowned. He might not be the expert on legalities that Jean-Claude was
trying to become, but he knew enough about human laws to know that assault
was only considered acceptable when it concerned self-defense, and he
couldn't imagine Jean-Claude attacking anyone in front of an entire
crowd. Of course, knowing this type of people, they might have simply
considered Jean-Claude's mere proximity a threat, and Asher wouldn't
have bet any money on any judge not putting them in the right.�
"Mortally," Jean-Claude replied
dryly. Jason snickered. Jean-Claude's lips twisted, and he turned to
address the whole of the room. "Enough. I will not, at this point,
change my mind about the plans which I have outlined for you, nor about
the rules I have imposed on those whose Master I am. Now leave me. I
wish to speak with Asher in private."�
"Are you sure you only want to
talk to him?" Jason murmured, probably soft enough to be unheard
by anyone but Jean-Claude and Asher. Nathaniel might have heard as well,
although his face showed no trace of it as he slid off the couch and
hastily left in obeyance of Jean-Claude's command.�
Jean-Claude reached out almost lazily,
grasping Jason's wrist. "One of these days, that smart mouth of
yours is going to get you in deep trouble, my wolf."�
"Sorry. Sorry. None of my business."
Jason raised his hands, Jean-Claude having released his wrist the moment
he'd delivered his warning. Asher reflected that Jason's posture was
strangely and purely human; there was no debasement in it, no real submission.
Only Jason's words made it an apology.�
Asher pondered if that, too, might be
part of Jean-Claude's planning. As his pomme de sang, Jason held a special
position, true, and one that allowed him certain liberties, but his
overstepping those would be seen as a weakness on Jean-Claude's part.
A vampire unable to control even his own pomme de sang would not be
respected by anyone else.�
"Jean-Claude, if the crisis is
over, I'm out of here. I've got classes tomorrow." Richard stood
in the doorway, taking in the scene and glowering his disapproval. Asher
wondered if Richard would really step in to 'save' Jason if Jean-Claude
would choose to discipline him. "Jason, you need a ride home?"�
Asher watched Jason glance at Jean-Claude,
waiting for his nod of permission before accepting the offer. Richard
didn't look very happy with that, but he made no further comments.�
Finally, Asher and Jean-Claude were
the only ones left in the room. Asher considered asking what 'crisis'
Richard had been referring to, then thought better of it. If Jean-Claude
wished his help or felt Asher needed to know about it, he'd tell him.
Asher was in no hurry to go 'borrowing trouble', as Jason might put
it. Keeping the wereleopards in line and out of trouble while Anita
was out of town already took up more than enough of his time, even if
it was a task he shared with Jean-Claude.�
"You should do something about
Jason, you know," Asher commented, watching as Jean-Claude slumped
back. "The last thing you need is someone taking a shot at your
pomme for saying the wrong thing at the wrong moment."�
"I know." Jean-Claude sighed
and closed his eyes. "I like Jason."�
"All the more reason to make sure
he doesn't get into more trouble than he can handle," Asher pointed
out. "Being your pomme might keep some people from harming him,
but not all."�
"I know," Jean-Claude repeated.
"You don't need to nag me about it."�
"What did happen to you anyway?"
Asher gestured at the red spot. "At first, I assumed it was blood,
but it isn't. I'd smell it if it was."�
"It is, indeed, not blood."
Jean-Claude opened his eyes and stretched with a catlike grace. "Not
that that will save my shirt from being ruined by it."�
"You've got a dozen more exactly
like it. The loss doesn't seem worth calling a big meeting over,"
Asher said. "Or bullying Richard into standing guard next to your
door."�
"They're not /exactly/ alike."
Jean-Claude smiled. "But no, I didn't call the meeting for the
sake of someone ruining a piece of clothing. And might I point out that
the man who can bully dear Richard into doing /anything/ has yet to
be born?"�
"Okay, so you lured him here with
your charm alone." Asher decided he had not imagined the slight
emphasis Jean-Claude had put on 'man'. They both knew that Anita, if
she put her mind to it, would be able to control Richard far more expertly
than Jean-Claude could ever hope to. It was sad, in a way, because Asher
privately thought Jean-Claude had displayed a far greater deal of care
for Richard's feelings than Anita ever had, after their break-up. "I'm
impressed."�
"Let us not talk of politics."
Jean-Claude made a dismissive gesture.�
"Politics?" Asher laughed.
"Since when do you rely on /politics/ to get your way?"�
"Tact, then. Diplomacy." Jean-Claude
shrugged, obviously not finding the subject very interesting, but willing
to indulge Asher, provided it kept him from pursuing his original inquiry.
"I offered him something he wanted, and in exchange, he agreed
to do me a small favor this night."�
"Ah. It would seem that once again,
you have bested me. I can neither get Richard to do me any favors, nor
allow me to do him any." Asher sighed.�
"Perhaps you have not offered or
asked him for the right ones," Jean-Claude said blandly.�
"Perhaps." Asher kept his
eyes on the surface of the couch between them. The fabric was exquisitely
soft, of course, more than suitable to be lied on naked or clothed,
as most of Jean-Claude's furniture. It made Asher wonder a little sometimes
- of whom had Jean-Claude been thinking when he decorated his rooms?
"It would be unsporting to ask you to reveal his weakness to me,
though."�
"Most unsporting," Jean-Claude
agreed, wriggling a little, seemingly to make himself more comfortable,
although Asher noticed the way Jean-Claude's left arm was now dangling
nearly within touching distance of Asher's shoulder. From the look Jean-Claude
gave him, Asher concluded that this was an invitation, rather than an
accident.�
Still, in spite of Jason's statement,
Asher felt sure Jean-Claude had something to tell him - even if, possibly,
Jean-Claude himself did not think so. True, he had no wish to pry, and
he did trust Jean-Claude, but ... sometimes, Jean-Claude could be as
much of a boy-scout as Richard. Not in the 'would be happy to help an
old lady cross the street' kind of way, and definitely not in the 'blushes
easily when teased about sex' kind of way, but Jean-Claude did share
Richard's reluctance to share his trouble with other people, especially
those he cared about. �
Jean-Claude prefered to carry his burdens
alone, and only involve others when he'd either already found a solution
for the problem, or had no other choice, because they'd already involved
themselves. Many vampires might have found that a weakness, something
to be exploited and encouraged in one of higher rank than they were.
Asher, too, saw it as a weakness, and one he didn't intend to allow
Jean-Claude.�
"What did you wanted to talk to
me about?" Asher asked, stretching and scooting a little closer
to the edge of the couch. Jean-Claude could still easily touch him,
but it would require more of a conscious effort. Asher felt that was
fine, really - he might no longer doubt Jean-Claude's feelings for him,
yet a little bit of reconfirmation never hurt. Besides, if he 'played
it cool', as Jason would call it, the chance of Jean-Claude actually
answering his questions was that much bigger.�
"I forgot?" Jean-Claude suggested.�
Asher groaned. "I don't believe
this!"�
"Is it so hard to believe that
your mere presence has chased all thoughts of dreary politics and worries
from my mind? That the mere radiance of your face leaves me unable to
think of anything or anyone else?" Jean-Claude studied Asher languidly.
"Your beauty would leave any man speechless, mon ami."�
Asher felt himself flush, in spite of
his intentions not to let Jean-Claude get out of telling him exactly
what was going on. On the other hand, giving in now to the promise that
was obvious from the expression on Jean-Claude's face didn't mean Asher
had to forget about getting the answers he wanted. Why risk antagonizing
Jean-Claude when he could, with some patience, get both things he wanted,
instead of just one of them?�
Almost but not entirely unwillingly,
his right hand reached for the top-buttons of Jean-Claude's shirt. It
wasn't absolutely necessary to unbutton the entire row of buttons, yet
Asher enjoyed making Jean-Claude squirm a little by pretending to have
difficulties with them. To be sure, twentieth-century clothes couldn't
compare to the complexity of the dress-code of seventeenth-century France,
although of course, Jean-Claude's wardrobe seemed to have been chosen
to reflect exactly that period.�
Once again, Asher's gaze was drawn to
the red stain. "If this red isn't blood, then what /is/ it?"�
Jean-Claude stared at him through half-closed
eyes, obviously weighing the bother of answering the question against
the risk of Asher stopping what he was doing if Jean-Claude failed to
make a reply.�
"Tomato-juice." Jean-Claude
sighed. �
Asher blinked. "Someone in that
crowd threw rotten vegetables at you?" After all of Jean-Claude's
talk about modern, civilized society, in which there were 'peaceful
demonstrations' instead of 'angry mobs', the concept of Jean-Claude
having been hit by a tomato seemed unreal. Ridiculous.�
"They were hardly rotten,"
Jean-Claude protested mildly. "In fact, from the glimpse I caught
of the person throwing them, they were bought in the supermarket quite
recently."�
On reflection, Asher decided, the concept
sounded hilarious. He could imagine Jean-Claude, striding out there
(or had he floated, to make sure everyone was able to see him? did Jean-Claude
consider himself subject to his own rules?). Then, just as Jean-Claude
had been about say something reasonable and sensible, perhaps about
how the weather was too chilly this time of year to stand around all
night and bothering their quite respectable fellow-citizens, the tomato,
to ruin it all.�
Jean-Claude's vanity would no doubt
have taken the greatest blow. Jean-Claude's pride would not have allowed
him any kind of response, but neither would Jean-Claude have been able
to continue his speech after such an incident. Thus, the retreat to
his private quarters, to sulk in private and, Asher allowed himself
to hope, wait for someone to come and kiss it all better.�
Naturally, even that part of Jean-Claude's
plan had not worked out, as proven by the great number of people Asher
had found when he'd arrived. Jason and the wereleopards, Jean-Claude
might have welcomed - they were, after all, in many ways his. Valentina
would have likely been a lot less welcome; she'd probably seen the incident
and had come to demand Jean-Claude to do something or maybe to offer
some ideas on a suitable retribution.�
"But how did Rafael end up here?
And Christine?" Asher wondered aloud.�
"Richard brought them, of course."
Jean-Claude shook his head ruefully. "Damian only saw me falling,
and he caught a glimpse of red. He panicked, and called Richard, telling
him that someone had just tried to assassinate me."�
Asher snorted. "Poor Richard must
have been quite disappointed to find you quite unharmed and well."�
"If he was, he hid it well."
Jean-Claude looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, in spite of all
his words, I think Richard knows quite well that my death would not
be to his advantage. He doesn't like me, and he doesn't trust me, but
he knows me, a little."�
"He knows no other Master of the
City is going to put up with his bad moods and bitching." Asher
grimaced. Richard in a good mood was fun; fun to tease, and fun to talk
with, provided the conversation steered clear of certain sensitive subjects.
Richard in a bad mood was anything but fun, especially because Richard
was always convinced that he was right. �
"Richard ... has been hurt,"
Jean-Claude said.�
"That's no excuse." Asher
frowned. "It's been months since Anita dumped him. He should accept
it and move on with his life. Besides, it's hardly fair to hold you
responsible for Anita's actions."�
"When you turned against me, I
didn't accept it. I didn't move on. For centuries, I kept your memory,
and in the end, you returned to me." Jean-Claude closed his eyes.
"How can I blame him for not giving up on Anita, and for hating
me? True, I no longer am her lover or Richard's rival, but how can he
compete with Micah, when he isn't even sure of his own feelings for
Anita anymore?"�
"I'm not sure if I feel flattered
at the comparison between you and me, and Anita and Richard." Asher
was rather sure he was a little insulted, actually. �
"Perhaps the comparison is slightly
flawed," Jean-Claude admitted. "Richard will not accept either
my advise or my support though, so if I can only offer him my tolerance
of his 'bad moods and bitching', as you call it, then that is what I
will give him. I can do no less."�
"Like you did for me?" Asher
remembered some of the things he'd said to Jean-Claude, and the way
he'd acted when they'd first seen each other again in St. Louis, with
him representing Belle Morte, and Jean-Claude the Master of the City,
rumored to be responsible for the death of Oliver.�
"You are far better at 'bad moods
and bitching' than Richard could ever hope to be," Jean-Claude
said with a faint smile that took part of the sting out of his words.�
Asher winced, nonetheless. "Then
again, I'm also far better at good moods and - " 'Flattering',
Asher decided, was not the right word. It was not flattery to say Jean-Claude
was beautiful, and that he loved him. 'Sweet-talking' smacked of that
same insincerity.�
"Kissing?" Jean-Claude proposed,
a hint of hopefulness in his tone.�
"I don't think that was the word
I was looking for." Asher smirked, relieved at Jean-Claude's quick
dropping of the subject of Asher's own period of being deaf to what
his heart was telling him. "And I don't think you have any idea
of Richard's skills in that particular area, unless there's something
you haven't told me about."�
"A gentleman never kisses and tells."
Jean-Claude started on the buttons Asher had abandoned. �
"But then, how is it possible everyone
seems to know about /us/?" Asher asked, his eyes wide and innocent.
Richard would no more let himself be seduced by Jean-Claude than Asher
- and Asher knew quite well how far his attempts had gotten him. Of
course, Asher had never made any /serious/ attempts at seduction, but
then, neither would Jean-Claude have.�
"I would assume it's because we
do more than kissing," Jean-Claude appeared not to be in a mood
for too much teasing, as he simply pulled the shirt over his head after
having unbuttoned the top three buttons. Asher watched it fall to the
floor, idly wondering if Jason would get the task of cleaning the tomato-juice
out of it, or if Jean-Claude would simply throw it out.�
"Right now, we're just talking."
Asher considered letting his own shirt join Jean-Claude's, then decided
he'd wait for Jean-Claude to take care of it.�
Jean-Claude's reply to that complaint
was not spoken, although he did use his mouth to deliver it.�
�
~finis~