My Canadian Beauty 01/01 by Laura Griffin (November 2, 1999) Note: This story started as a fantasy borrowed from the recent Kevin Spacey movie and was adapted and then posted to the NA list in a short form. However, the fantasy turned itself into a post-Ashes to Ashes story. Permission to archive at any DP site, NA site, and to www.fkfanfic.com The room was filled with a heaving fog, obscuring the intruder's view. The man walked slowing and carefully forward across the tiled floor. Music played softly -- he recognized it as 'Moonlight Sonata." Such a passionate yet relaxing piece, perfect for the occasion. Candlelight flickered, the flames barely penetrating the mist. He continued walking...it seemed an eternity until he reached his destination. He stooped down to kneel beside the black porcelain bath tub. The woman relaxing inside of it turned her face towards him. She didn't show any outward sign of surprise at having a visitor, even though the hour was quite late. "You got my invitation," she whispered. She locked her eyes with his icy sapphire jewels, the stare quickly becoming a contest of wills. "Indeed." One word...one soft, sweet word. That was all it took for her to lose her carefully rehearsed composure. She had a whole scenario planned out...an entire speech memorized; but it was lost in the whirl of emotion that his voice invoked. He sensed her sudden loss of coherent thought, saw her lower her eyes for a brief moment in embarrassment, and his lips turned up in a smile that was decidedly wicked. The woman blushed, glad that her body was hidden beneath the water...hidden by the thousands of white rose petals covering the surface of that water. He dipped his hand slowly into the warmth, stirring the petals...................... "Huh?" "You were daydreaming again." "What?!" "You heard me, Trace. Daydreaming." "It's night." "That isn't the point." "So what, exactly, is your point, Vachon?" "My point is...that you were daydreaming instead of paying attention to me." "Jealous much?" "Watch 'Buffy' much?" Vachon snapped back at her. "Geesh! You're kind of touchy tonight." "Listen, Trace. If this is a bad time, we can just get together some other night." Tracy yawned. "Hmmm...well....yeah. That's probably a good idea." The blonde glanced down as she answered him, not quite willing to meet his eyes as she spurned him. It was just as well. Vachon has 'whooshed' out before she completed her sentence. "Detective Vetter." Tracy turned around quickly, half expecting it to be Vachon again. It wasn't. The NightCrawler was standing in her now-open window. "I see you got my invitation." "Indeed." In movements too swift to be seen by the human eye, the ancient vampire crossed the room to stand behind the woman. "Admittedly, I was a bit surprised to get your letter, but I was pleased." "You're a vampire." "And you're a human....and a very intuitive one at that. And....we've never been properly introduced." He whispered in her ear, "Lucien Lacroix." His voice was low and melodic, practically singing the ancient song of seduction. "We've met before, Mr. Lacroix," Tracy said a bit too loudly. "Yes...but that was business. And rather unpleasant business at that." He inwardly winced at the recent memory of Divia's appearance in Toronto and the havoc she'd wreaked on his kind. On Nicholas. Even Vachon had been thought killed, but apparently was old enough to regenerate after Divia's final demise. Tracy felt a little dizzy and found herself sitting on the couch. The vampire was now sitting beside her, coaxing her to look into his sky-blue eyes. "Vachon just left." Lacroix chose his words carefully. "Yes. I don't think he'll be coming back tonight." "No. I don't think he will." She frowned as she remembered....something. Something wasn't right here. "It's all right, Tracy. He knows you've been tired. He knows how you really feel about him." His voice was hypnotic. That was it. Hypnotic. "He knows how I really feel," Tracy whispered, her voice sounding far away to her own ears. "Yes." "He won't be coming back tonight." Her voice was almost childlike...and so very sad. "Tracy, I've come here at your invitation. Remember..." "Yes, you came here because I know you're a vampire," she answered. "But you know that you must keep this revelation a secret, just as you carry the secret of Vachon." "A secret." Tracy's eyes were closing. She fought it. Hypnotic. "Perhaps tomorrow..." "...would be a better time." Tracy Vetter finally succumbed to the vampire's mesmerizing voice and drifted off into sleep. --- Later that night...at the Raven: "Nicholas." "Lacroix...does she....is she....?" "Your partner is very strong-willed." "Vachon mentioned that." "He was right. I may still have work to do tomorrow. For now, she is sleeping in her apartment with the idea that Vachon is still alive and that he's just growing distant, getting ready to move on." Lacroix didn't mention to his son that he'd actually been suggesting to Tracy's mind that it was *she* who was growing distant. Her mind was very resistant to the idea of Vachon leaving her. Lacroix had had to turn her own strength of will against her memories. "Thank you, Lacroix." Nicholas left the Raven, left his vampire father sitting alone. Lacroix sighed, knowing that he had a great deal more to do if Tracy was ever going to really believe that Vachon hadn't died in her arms with a stake in his heart. He took a sip of the ruby-fire liquid that filled the crystal goblet and let his mind sift through the evenings events. When he'd first approached Tracy, he was taken aback at the young woman's strong spirit....her resistance to even his powers of persuasion. He had to start the process over several times, finally supplying her with fantasies that included himself in order to relax her mind and get her to allow him entrance into her deeper subconscious. Lacroix was surprised to find that some fantasies involving him were already in place in the young detectives mind; apparently she'd been rather intrigued with the NightCrawler persona for some years, and her recent meeting with him due to the Raven 'beer fridge' murder had intrigued her even further. He could never tell his son that the fantasies he'd supplied her with came from Lacroix's' own imagination. Never could he tell his son that he'd been watching Tracy for years. "My Canadian beauty," he whispered...remembering the feel of her in his arms. Perhaps the morrow would bring healing to Tracy...and to himself. Perhaps he could take some comfort in her.... He paused, stopping the deluge of emotion threatening to undo his composure. Divia's actions had affected him on many levels. He closed his eyes against the memory of his daughter's evil. He would not seduce Tracy out of some need to ease his own spirit. He would complete the favor asked by Nicholas. And maybe...just maybe...he would approach Tracy when the time was right. He put the empty glass behind the bar, turned out the lights, locked the door, and softly whispered to the empty room, "Good night, Miss Vetter." --end-- Cousin Laura - The Dark CERK Perk Addict http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Portal/6866/Laura.htm "Even though you're refracted, you're still you." - 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile'