Disclaimers: I don't own these vampires, Anne Rice does. I make no money off of this, and the Supreme Court said that parodies are legal, so there!

Louis rarely rode through the forests alone. Usually he stuck to his lands, or the few trails he had made for himself along the roads. At best, the forest was a pleasant retreat from the stuffy world that held him prisoner, giving him a few hours of respite away from his controlling mother and Paul, who was growing more and more aggressively faithful as the days went by. At worst, though, the forest was a dark and foreboding place only a little ways from the swamps, which housed venomous snakes, fifteen foot alligators and run away slaves who had nothing to lose and everything to gain from killing any white man who spotted them.

His horse, Marianne, never seemed to mind the forest, though, preferring the soft dirt to the hard rocks of the roads. The mare kept her head down, scanning the paths for holes and snakes. In his opinion, this animal was the most sensible creature on the plantation. She never caused any trouble and frequently got him out of the messes he usually started. When he was drunk in town, she was sure to bring him home safely.

Louis glanced up at the sky, vaguely surprised by what he saw. The sun, which had been high when he'd started out, had now disappeared, and the sky was rapidly turning a dark purple. The moon was giving more light than the dwindling twilight.

"We need to get home," he whispered, turning in the saddle. He had not been watching where he'd been riding, and he found himself in an unfamiliar part of the forest. The vegetation was thick around him, and the tree branches nearly blocked the sky from view. A few stars were visible between the leaves, but he couldn't tell any constellations or particular bright spots to help find his way.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked Marianne.

He wasn't surprised when he received no answer. Instead he turned her around and headed in the opposite direction, hoping she hadn't made any wild turns in the last few hours. They plodded on a few miles, and the sky grew darker and darker, until he realized that it was not only night, but also a thick layer of clouds had gathered across the horizon. He patted her side, hoping she wouldn't get spooked by any lightning that might sound. She'd always been gun shy.

As they walked, he heard a soft pattering above on the leaves, and then felt droplets start to hit him. It was raining, and by the sound of it, the storm would only get worse. There was a rumble of thunder not too far away, and the wind blew the trees around, knocking branches together and tearing leaves apart.

Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of lightning that destroyed a tree not fifteen feet away from them, and a crash of thunder that deafened them. Marianne whinnied in terror and reared up, throwing him to the mud and racing away.

"Damned horse..." he groaned, sitting up. No carrots for her when he got home! "Oh no, home..." he cried, remembering that he was supposed to talk with Paul, something about what the voices needed him to do with the plantation. Of course he'd forgotten, he forgot anything he didn't want to remember.

Louis sighed and stood up, brushing the worst clumps of dirt and mud from his clothes. "Merde..." he cursed. This set was ruined, utterly ruined. Not that he minded so much, only that his mother was going to scold him as if he was just out of swaddling clothes.

With a sad shake of his head, he started after his horse, wondering if she would stop or keep running until she got home. Or if she would run headlong into the swamps, into the mouth of some waiting alligator.

"And I don't even know where home is," he mumbled, looking around. There was a tremendous oak just a few feet away, with a large hollow area in the center. Perhaps it would be best to wait out the storm in there, instead of wandering blindly until he was bitten by a cottonmouth. Louis quickly ducked inside, sitting down on a convenient bump of wood.

The storm raged on outside his little shelter, and the inside of the tree pressed down on his shoulders. He hated cramped spaces, he felt like they were trying to crush him. Ever since he'd accidentally locked himself in a trunk as a child, he'd hated small areas. It'd taken almost three hours for them to find him again. He hadn't been up in the attic since.

A loud rustle from outside the tree dragged his attention back to the present. The bushes audibly scratched against the oak bark, sounding more like fingernails than twigs. Louis tried to sit up and only succeeded in slamming his head on the rough wood. He cried out in pain, and the rustling stopped. He held his breath, scared of what might be out there. Another blast of lightning came down on the tree next to him, and he wondered if he had chosen his shelter wisely.

The rain splashed against the tree, drowning out any sounds he might have heard, and he leaned back, wishing he could disappear from this place. A short flash, and he could see the space in front of him was still empty. Whatever was out there hadn't found him. There was another flash, and he noticed a strange shadow directly ahead, nestled in a cropping of tree roots. In the darkness, he struggled to identify what he'd seen, at least give it a name. When the lightning struck again, the shadow was gone.

Louis considered making a run for it, and taking a chance that he could find his way out without being caught by...anything. He shook his head. It was too dark, he'd trip over something before he'd even get five feet.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name," he whispered frantically, "thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven." He looked down and noticed his hands were shaking uncontrollably. The rustling started up again, even louder than before. "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those that trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation..." his mind started to go blank, he tried to remember the words, but he couldn't. "Not into temptation, not into temptation...temptation..." he mumbled.

A burst of light, so bright it was as day for a moment, and someone was standing in front of him.

Louis froze, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to even shut his eyes. He watched as this stranger fell to his knees and crawled in as far as he could, kneeling at Louis' feet. His clothes were completely soaked and partially torn, and his hair dripped with the cold water. In fact, as Louis stared, he noticed that his new companion was shivering, apparently not noticing Louis at all.

Poor thing, he's thoroughly drenched, Louis thought. He reached out and put his hand on the stranger's shoulder.

With a surprised yell, he scrambled into another corner of the tree Louis had not noticed before. His body shook and he stared up, frightened, at Louis.

"No, no, it's all right, I won't hurt you," Louis said quickly, trying to calm him down. Almost immediately the other smiled and stopped shaking.

"You....startled me," he whispered. It was hard to hear him over the rain. "I...didn't see you..."

Louis smiled, all of his fear vanishing. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you all right?"

"Yes. Just cold."

"What is your name?"

"Lestat."

" If you don't mind my saying so, that isn't a local name. In fact, I don't believe you're accent is local. Where are you from?"

Lestat bent his head a little. "France...a long time ago." He looked up. "Who are you?"

"Louis de Point du Lac."

They were quiet for awhile, just listening to the rain.

"I hope it stops soon," Louis said.

"It will stop in fifteen minutes," Lestat said confidently. When Louis asked him how he knew, "experience" was his only reply.

Lestat's experience must have been right, though, because in ten minutes the downpour turned into a tiny drizzle, and then a light spring, and five minutes after that, the storm completely stopped. They both came out, standing up straight and stretching. Louis noticed that Lestat was actually a tiny bit taller than he was, although he'd seemed smaller before.

"Wait, don't go yet," Louis called when Lestat turned to leave.

"It's going to be light soon, I have to go," Lestat sighed.

Louis' shoulders dropped. Why am I so sorry to see him go? he wondered.

Lestat looked over his shoulder, then smiled sadly. "They've come to get you ," he said enigmatically. Without warning he leaned forward and kissed Louis, then disappeared back into the forest.

"What on earth...?" he stammered, looking after him.

"Louis! Louis, are you out here?" came a familiar voice.

Louis stared into the brush as a man rode into view. It was Reynard, the local constable. Mother must have panicked and sent for help, Louis chuckled.

"Louis, there you are!" Reynard yelled, riding close. "When your horse came in without you, we feared the worst. It looks like the forest did not treat you kindly last night."

"Nothing terrible, though I think I'll appreciate my bed a bit more after this," Louis smiled politely.

Another man came behind Reynard, trailing a sad looking Marianne behind him. Louis walked up and stroked her nose, letting her know she wasn't in trouble. Then he jumped up on her back and followed them back home.

Two days later, Louis could still not get the image of Lestat's darkened silhouette out of his mind. He could still taste the brash young man's lips on his, the strange eyes that seemed to glow like blue fire at him. His mother threw a conniption every time he mentioned going out for a ride again, and Paul was getting out of hand. Thinking of the wet stranger in the woods was preferable than thinking of his family.

He had taken to sitting on the porch, drinking brandy despite the disapproving stares his mother and sibling gave him about "the devil's water." Even his sister preferred staying upstairs to avoid the confrontations that were becoming more frequent.

The fields were quiet, since he'd let his slaves in early. Today apparently was a holiday for them, some religious time or other, and rather than risk a rebellion, it was better to let them worship. Paul had given him hell over that, saying that their souls needed saving, but Louis had ignored him. It seemed more like they needed a rest to him.

The sun had gone down an hour ago, and he was close to going in. The air was balmy, and the magnolia trees were closing their flowers up. Mosquitoes were beginning to buzz close, but there were enough mosquito hawks flying around him that he was sure he would not be bit. He sat up and poured the last of his brandy out, drinking it down in a fast gulp.

He looked up at the road one more time, and he spotted someone walking toward his gate. Louis blinked and looked again. Was it...?

"Lestat?"

The stranger smiled, and Louis recognized him. He stood up and walked out, welcoming him in, embracing him as if he was a long lost friend. When he released him, Lestat took a step back and grinned.

"I'm glad you don't mind me being here," he said.

"Why would I mind?" Louis asked, sincerely puzzled.

"Well...I mean, after the rain, when...when I...kissed you..." Lestat stumbled, hesitant to remind him.

"Oh...that..." Louis smiled softly. "No, Lestat. I don't mind at all." But why not? "Please come in. Everyone should be asleep." Good Lord, Louis, what are you saying?

He invited Lestat in, seating him in his large study. It was the only room where they could talk and not be heard. He lit a lamp and set it on the desk, then looked it up. Finally he saw what Lestat really looked like, beautiful golden hair and unnaturally white features, with gray-blue eyes. But his clothes...they were clothing one would give to the needy. They fit him well and were in one piece, but the fabric was poor and the cut common.

"So, what were you running from?" Lestat asked abruptly.

"I don't understand," Louis said.

"In the forest," Lestat clarified, "late at night all alone. You obviously were trying not to think about something. What was it?"

"Oh..." Louis sighed, a tiny bit surprised that Lestat had noticed. "My family...my mother is doing all she can to control me, and my brother...I'm not sure if he is delusional or a saint."

Lestat gently guided the conversation, listening to everything Louis had to say. Louis, in turn, poured out all of his pent up emotions, not caring that he was telling this to someone he barely knew.

"And what brought you this way?" Louis suddenly asked, finishing his partial monologue.

Lestat smiled and leaned forward, tilting his head slightly to allow his hair to fall slightly over his eyes. "I just wanted to see you," he whispered. He reached out and brushed Louis' cheek with his fingers, delighted when he didn't flinch away. He edged closer, about to kiss him when the door knob began to turn. Lestat sat back quickly, relaxing just as the door opened.

"Paul," Louis said in surprised annoyance. "What are you doing up?"

At first his brother didn't answer. He looked first at Lestat, then at Louis, then back at Lestat and narrowed his eyes. "I still need to talk to you. Who is this?"

Paul's contempt for Lestat was obvious, but Louis still formally introduced them.

"Lestat? Is that his only name?" Paul asked.

"Lestat de Lioncourt," Lestat answered before Louis could say anything. "Does it really matter?"

Paul's frown did not disappear, and neither did he.

"Paul, we can talk later, tomorrow perhaps," Louis said.

His brother considered, then nodded and left the room. He left the door wide open.

"I'm very sorry about that--" Louis started, but Lestat just shook his head.

"No, it's all right. I'm used to it. In any case, I think I should go now. I've kept you up long enough."

Louis glanced at his clock and gasped. It was almost midnight. He'd been talking for so long... "But will I see you again soon?"

Lestat grinned and nodded eagerly. "I'll try to come tomorrow night." He stood up as Louis did, and for a moment they didn't move, only staring into each other's eyes. Lestat listened carefully, then darted forward and gave Louis a lingering kiss. Louis put his arms around Lestat, holding him close. Finally they separated, and Louis escorted Lestat to the gate.

The next day, before Louis had even taken his morning ride to survey his lands, his mother came to speak with him. This was no real surprise to him. He'd half expected it. The only thing that stunned him was that his mother actually condescended to set foot in the stables.

“Louis! I need to speak with you!"

He sighed and put his saddle on Marianne, on top of her blanket. "Yes, mother?"

"Paul told me you had a visitor last night," she said, screwing up her skirts to tread over the hay.

"I did, mother."

"A Lestan, or something?"

"Lestat, mother." He buckled the belt under her waist and checked it.

"And who is this 'Lestat'? What does he own? What does he do? And when did you come to know him?"

"We were lost in the same storm, mother."

"Goodness, you mean he's some commoner?" she gasped.

There's nothing common about him, Louis smiled dreamily. "He isn't of our same class, if that is what you mean."

She took that as a yes and began her swooning routine. "Oh, my child, you'll bring us to ruin! My son, mixing with the rabble!"

Today, though, Louis would have none of that. He swung up onto Marianne's back and guided her out of her stall, heading past his mother.

"Mother, perhaps you have not noticed, but I am not a child any longer!"

"I'm still your mother, though," she retorted, miraculously regaining her strength. "And I'll straighten you out when you begin to act like a child!"

He didn't answer, leaving her squawking in the stable.

That night, he sat on the porch, waiting for Lestat to arrive. Paul was in his shrine again, fuming at the argument he'd had with Louis about giving the slaves non-Christian holidays and not honoring his mother, who was fast asleep. She'd tried to stay up, hoping to see Lestat, but she'd had to go to bed. And his sister was still in her room, away from it all.

When Lestat arrived, Louis forgot about everything else. He went out to greet him, and led him back inside to his study. This time he locked the door.

"Don't want any interruptions?" Lestat teased gently.

"If you had not heard my brother before he came in," Louis sighed, leaving the idea hanging.

"Don't think about them," Lestat said. "Sit down."

Louis nodded and sat beside him on the leather couch. "I just wish they would give me a few moment's peace. Nothing I do is right for them."
"I think you're just right," Lestat smiled. He lay his hand on Louis'.

"Why am I feeling these things?" Louis asked quietly. "Everything I've been taught tells me this is wrong."

"Sometimes the entire world is wrong," Lestat said just as softly, edging closer.

“But God says...this is an abomination..."

"Louis, how many times has the Bible been translated, and translated from previous translations?" Lestat asked, kissing his cheek. "And while the Apostles may be saints, they were still only men. Humans make mistakes."

A tear began to form in Louis' eye, and it spilled off the edge to trickle down his cheek. "Then why do I feel so guilty? It feels so right, but...still..."

Lestat reached up and held Louis' face in his hands. "You have been taught that pleasure is a sin, mon chere. But God Himself says there is a time for all things, a time for love, a time to dance, a time to laugh. Life is not meant entirely for hate, abstention, and sobriety. Anyone who says different is trying to sell something." Another tear fell, and Lestat realized he would not convince Louis in this short span of time. "And it does not matter to me if it is wrong. I love you. I fell in love with you when I saw you in the storm. If it is wrong, then I will be wrong. Let me seduce you, and if you feel lessened by my touch, you can return to your priests and I will leave."

"No!" Louis cried. "No, don't leave, you must not leave me!"

Lestat smiled and brushed the tears away, kissing him again. "I never would, my love." He ran his fingers up to Louis' shoulders and pushed his coat down, undoing the buttons of his shirt and removing his belt. Louis bit his lip in expectant anticipation and leaned back, yielding himself up to Lestat, who began to work on his pants.

Louis abruptly started to cry again, and Lestat stopped immediately, sliding off of him and kneeling by his head. "Louis, what's wrong? Please don't cry, chere, what is it?"

Louis sat up mournfully and continued to weep. "I'm sorry, Lestat, I'm so sorry, but...I can't, I'm not ready..."

Lestat smiled in understanding and sat next to him again. Louis suddenly turned and threw his arms around him, sobbing violently on his shoulder. Lestat hugged him back, caressing his hair and whispering soothing words.

"It's all right, Louis, it's all right," he sighed. "We don't have to rush anything. Believe me, we have all the time in the world. Nothing will happen unless you want it."

Louis sat back a little, wiping his tears away. He gave a small smile and kissed Lestat. "Thank you," he whispered. "You have no idea what that means to me."

Lestat shook his head and nuzzled his throat, kissing it. "You have no idea what it means to me," he hissed softly.

They spent the rest of the night talking long into the night, and Louis finally began to understand a bit more about Lestat. They talked about his invalid father, and Louis' mother, and both of their lives. They spoke about their relationship and love at first sight. They talked about religion and some politics, and Louis was a little disappointed in Lestat's literary education, but that only encouraged him to get Lestat to read more.

At last Lestat had to leave, only saying that he had to return to his father. Louis understood and gave him one last kiss before letting him out, watching him disappear down the road. Finally he went up to his room and slid into bed, never knowing that they'd had an audience.

Louis woke up late the next day, noticing the sun was already high up. He rose and stepped over to the window, sitting down in the hard chair and staring out wistfully. Lestat was such a wonderful companion, masterful and acquiescent at the same time.

"Ah, so the sinner rises at last."

Louis turned in astonishment to find his brother standing in the doorway. "What?"

"Louis, do not play innocent," Paul sneered, entering the room and closing the door behind himself. "I heard you with your 'Lestat', your pitiful little rationalisms to try to remake the Bible as you see fit. To make God's words suit you, and your despicable sodomite."

"Paul, go away," Louis whispered.

"Oh no, brother, you will listen to me, whether you like it or not! Your lust is undeniable! You claim to love and fear God, but you have lost all faith you might have once had. Faulting the Apostles, justifying abominations, and then thinking you can just absolve your way to Heaven! You are a fool!" Paul stepped close until he was nearly screaming in Louis' face. "Your arrogance rivals Satan's! You are the very worst of vipers, a sinner who does not believe he is a sinner! Such debased pride in yourself!"

"Pride? You speak to me of pride?" Louis snarled, rising to his feet. "You believe that angels speak to you and grant you visions! You believe you're a saint! Who are you to receive such miracles? You are no saint, you are deluded! You warp the very Gospel itself! You speak of charity and love, but you don't help anyone!"

"Because you will not follow my instructions!" Paul fumed.

"Your instructions?" Louis laughed mockingly. "You think you need money to help people? I offered you an oratory and you leaped at the chance, when you could have used the money for the poor! You could preach to the slaves, but you consider that beneath yourself. Where was your Christian love then? To think I once believed in you...I don't believe your voices are those of angels, they are those of a fool! Speak to me of arrogance when you no longer believe you are the Second Coming!"

Paul's face turned red, and he raised his hand threateningly.

"Let he who is without sin..." Louis growled.

His brother screamed in anger and stormed away, disappearing out of the room. Louis wondered if his mother had heard anything, then decided Paul would probably tell her in any case. He locked his door, and for the rest of the day he only let in the servant with his meals, ignoring his mother's frantic yells and harsh accusations later on.

When night descended, Louis cautiously opened his door. One of the maids was rounding the corner, and she let him know that his mother was asleep. No one had seen his brother since the morning.

He quietly went to his study and arranged a few papers, preparing a legal maneuver that would bypass his brother and leave everything to his sister until she became married, when her husband would receive the land. By declaring Paul mad, which he was fairly certain of, he could keep those he cared about safe. He sealed them all in an envelope and addressed it to Constable Reynard, knowing he could trust him. Then he took a large amount of money and folded it into his pocket.

Louis walked outside, and almost immediately felt surrounded. A harvest moon was up and the sky was cloudless, so the overseer had kept the slaves out working. Louis quickly found him and ordered him to relieve the workers so that by the time Lestat came by, they would be all alone. The last slave had just gone in when Lestat appeared, coming in through the gate and stopping only inches from him.

"Louis, chere, what's wrong?" Lestat asked, noticing his weary red eyes.

"Lestat...I...I want to come with you," he said quickly, stumbling over his words. "I don't want to stay here, and if you could take me in, just for a short time--I can pay for myself, I just need--"

He couldn't finish. Lestat embraced him, and neither of them said anything for a long time.

"Of course you may come with me," Lestat whispered. "You may stay with me as long as you want, forever if you like. But...first, I have to tell you something."
"Yes?"

Lestat looked around, as if he was afraid someone might pounce out of the shadows. "Not here. Some place where no one will hear us."

"Is it that terrible?" Louis asked.

Lestat glanced at the ground. "It...it could ruin everything...in it's own way."

Louis took his friend's hand and brought him around the back to an area behind the stable and shielded by magnolia trees. Lestat took a deep breath, then looked up.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

Louis nodded. "Yes, I do."
Lestat smiled to himself. "At least I'll have that, no matter how this turns out."

"Lestat, what's wrong?" Louis tried to get a glimpse of his face, and noticed that Lestat was crying. But there was something wrong with his tears. They were too dark. He touched one and brought it to his lips. And he stepped back in fright. Blood. "What are you?"

"I won't hurt you, I swear," Lestat said quickly, "please don't be afraid."

Louis tried to back away even further, but he only pressed himself against the stable wall. He couldn't slide away before the magnolias blocked his path. "But...blood...what are you?" He looked up and saw Lestat's face, seeing the fangs for the first time. "Oh no...a nos...nosferatu," he stuttered, sliding down the wall to the ground. "The devil, I've given myself to the devil..."

"No, no, not a devil, I would never hurt you," Lestat insisted, dropping to his knees in front of Louis. He gathered Louis' hands and held them tight, as if he was praying.

"You're not natural," Louis murmured, tears falling rapidly. "A vampire...a demon..."

"A vampire, yes, but nothing else," Lestat cried. "I'm still just Lestat. I love you. You said you loved me, I haven't changed!"

"Have you been manipulating me this entire time?" Louis almost hissed. "Were you watching me in the forest at the very start?"

"I...I've been watching you for weeks now," Lestat admitted. "You're so beautiful, and as I watched I saw how kind and intelligent you are. I grew obsessed with you. I followed you in the woods just so I might have a chance to talk to you...it was heaven kissing you. But I haven't manipulated you, not ever!"

"But..." Louis withdrew one of his hands and touched Lestat's cheek, feeling the tears slide down his fingers. "You kill, don't you?"

Lestat lowered his head and nodded. "I have to. But I don't kill innocents, Louis, only bad people, evil monsters!"

"Like you?"

Lestat's weeping grew stronger, and he gave a weak shake of his head. "No...not a monster...I'm not a monster. I only want to be good! I only want you to love me!" He shoved his fists against his eyes, trying to block his tears. "But you don't...I've ruined it. You would never love me."

Louis pressed his knuckles to his mouth as he watched this vampire sob uncontrollably. This was all so sudden, he had no idea how to react. Was this an evil spirit bent to steal his soul and damn him to hell, or just a love-lorn boy desperate for affection? He reached out and caressed Lestat's hair, working up his nerve to speak.

"Damnèd demon!"

Louis looked up in shock as his brother appeared, striking Lestat with a thick wooden cane. Lestat fell against the wall, striking his head on the stones. Stars swirled in his vision and he groaned as put his hand up in a feeble defense.

"Paul, what are you doing?!" Louis gasped, backing away from his sibling.

"It's all right, Louis, you've been coerced by the devil," Paul growled, raising the staff above his head and bringing it down on the vampire again. The sheer force of his blows made Louis wince in sympathy. Paul seemed to have the strength of ten men behind his hits. "I'll drive him back to hell!"

Lestat didn't move. He merely lay prone on the dirt, whimpering pitifully. Louis watched, and as he did he figured out that Lestat's pain had nothing to do with the beating he was receiving, and everything to do with Louis' perceived rejection.

Lestat glanced up as Paul brought the cane up, about the plunge it through Lestat's heart like a stake. The vampire just shut his eyes, waiting for the impact. Paul started to bring it down.

"No!" Louis screamed, bursting forward and knocking his brother to the ground. The cane rolled out of Paul's hand, but Louis ignored it. He struck Paul's head with the back of his fist, bruising his knuckles which were unused to any kind of work. Paul tried to get up, so Louis struck him again, and this time Paul didn't move.

"Lestat?" Louis whispered, crawling over to him and grasping his shoulders. He hauled him up and leaned him against the wall, taking out his handkerchief so he could wipe his tears away. Lestat looked up, somewhat surprised that Louis was doing this. Louis just smiled at him, kissing his lips tenderly.

"It's all right," he said in a quiet voice. "Don't cry."

"You love me?" Lestat asked.

Louis put his arms around him, nodding his head. "Yes. And you love me?"

"With all my heart." Lestat lay his head on Louis' shoulder. He could feel the blood rushing through his friend's veins, hear the heart calling to him. He wanted to sink his fangs in and drink, and he nuzzled the skin, hissing slightly.

"Lestat," Louis whispered, knowing what Lestat was thinking. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to accomodate him. "You can bite, if you want to."

For a moment, Lestat almost did. It would have been easy, Louis was trapped in his grip, his head was bent at just the right angle....He sighed and pushed him away, shaking his head.

"No, not here," he said. "And not now. You have to want it, truly want it, after I've shown you what it really is. I will not force anything on you."

Lestat stood up, helping Louis stand with him, and together they left the plantation.

A little while later, Louis found himself in one of the poorer districts of New Orleans, standing inside a small, one room apartment furnished only with a flimsy bed with ragged sheets, a chair that was about to fall to pieces, and a table of the same quality. For someone who had lived only in luxury his entire life, it was a bit of a shock for Louis. He'd known about the impoverished, yes, but they had been removed from him, more of an intellectual exercise than something real. Even his occasional wandering in local taverns was a type of pretend. He wasn't cruel, he just couldn't conceive needing for everything when he'd wanted for nothing.

"This is where you've lived, all this time?" he asked, wondering at the simplicity of it.

Lestat nodded sadly and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Is it so awful?"

Louis smiled and sat down beside him. Lestat's eyes were still red from his crying. "No...it's all right, Lestat, I'm not one of those fickle monsters who cares only for money and not for the person. I love you. Nothing else matters."

Lestat allowed Louis to put his arms around him. "You don't know how much this means to me, chere, that you're able to love me, despite everything that I am."

Louis kissed his cheek. "I could say the same to you."

Lestat shook his head as he returned Louis' embrace. "No, my love. You're an angel." He sighed and looked around the room. "I'm really not so poor as I seem, I'm just no good at accounts and finances. Marius gave me enough to take care of myself for awhile..."

"Who is Marius?"

"My maker. He made me a vampire, when he found me after Magnus nearly killed me. It is a long story--"

"We have time. I'm certainly not going anywhere."

Lestat stared into Louis' eyes and realized he couldn't get out of this, so he lay back on the bed, explaining how Magnus had chosen him when he was on stage, and how Marius appeared just in time to save him. He described the fight in the Theatre, where they had rescued Armand and killed the rogues. He explained that he'd changed his mother and she'd left, and that he'd changed Nicholas, and he'd left as well.

“And then I came here, intending only to pass through, but I saw you one night, and I fell in love instantly. I followed you home and watched over you for weeks."

"Now I'm glad I took a ride in the rain," Louis whispered.

Lestat looked up through the window and sighed. "I have to go to sleep soon. The sun is rising."

Louis immediately became quiet. "So that part is true..."

Lestat's eyes started to fill with tears again, but his turned his head to the pillow so Louis wouldn't see. "I...just need you to stay away from me during the day...My body will attack anyone blindly when I'm asleep. But I do wake up early, just after twillight. It isn't so very long."

Louis knew his friend was crying. He reached out and put his hand beneath Lestat's chin, tilting his face up. The scarlet tears spilled freely down his cheeks, and Louis kissed them away. The taste was unbelievable, and he lapped up the rest of the sweet blood.

"Louis...don't...once you've tasted it..." Lestat tried to protest, enjoying it too much to draw away.

"Then I suppose I'm already lost," Louis whispered, licking up the last of the tears. "Where do you sleep?"

"In bed," Lestat said, pointing at the drapes. "I made sure that those curtains are strong enough to keep the sunlight out."

"I thought vampires slept in coffins," Louis said.

Lestat visibly shuddered. "No, those are too confining. I feel trapped under them." He shook his head. "I can't stand feeling trapped."

Louis stood up as Lestat lay down on the bed. "I promise to keep watch over you."

Lestat shook his head. "No, keep watch over yourself. I don't want to wake up and find you hurt. Please be careful while I'm asleep. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Louis nodded. "You won't have to."

"Here, you might need this during the day." Lestat lifted the thin blanket, revealing a small box that had been hidden beneath the bed. Louis drew it out and opened it, gasping at what he saw. Gold coins, along with a few gems and even pearls!

He looked up to ask something, but Lestat's eyes were beginning to flutter. Instead of wasting time saying anything, he bent over him and kissed him. Lestat fell asleep with a small smile.

Louis backed away once he knew his friend was safely asleep, kneeling back on the floor with the treasure box. To think, that this beautiful vampire was so wealthy, yet lived in such misery. He took two handfuls of jewels from the box and concealed them in a pocket, then closed up the box and slid it back under the bed. Lestat's body turned slightly, and Louis withdrew as fast as he could. No sense tempting fate. He went to the door and locked it behind him, heading for the street. He hailed a carriage, and directed it to the better part of town.

Ten minutes later Louis was inside the shop of Jacques Maynard, the most highly regarded antique dealer in New Orleans. Jacques could appraise anything honestly, and anyone would take his price as the gospel truth. When Louis heard the estimates, however, he was worried that Jacques was joking.

"You must be exaggerating," Louis insisted, "that sum would buy my entire plantation!"

"Twice over," Jacques nodded. "Where'd you find 'em?"

"I...it's part of an old family heirloom," Louis lied. "Where on earth could I sell these? No one has the sort of money to buy these."

"You could take them to the bank," Jacques shrugged. "I'm sure they have enough money, and with tensions being what they are, they'd probably like to have something hard--"

"Tensions?" Louis asked curiously.

"Yeah. Haven't you heard? One of our state congressmen is secretely drafting a bill for secession."

"From what? The rest of the country?" Louis almost laughed.

Jacques wasn't laughing.

"Monsieur Du Lac, do you ever look outside your plantation at what's happening? The federal government is still trying to free all the slaves, and you know they don't care what we think about it! Hell, those damyanks won't even let their factories come down here, and they know we could use the jobs."

“Surely that isn't deliberate," Louis insisted.

"How many factories do you know south of the Mason Dixon line?"

Louis was starting to become uneasy, and he gathered the jewels back up. "Thank you for the appraisal, Monsieur," he said politely, leaving the fee on the table. "And thank you for the suggestion. I believe I will take these to the bank."

He could feel Jacques' eyes on his back as he left. I've been hiding in my books too long, he thought. He just shook his head and kept his eyes lowered. The Bank of New Orleans was not far at all, so he merely walked over and, to his surprise, the manager eagerly exchanged them. The process took several hours, however, and including the commute and the time he took to eat, it was nearing twilight when he managed to start back.

The sun had almost set when Louis returned, climbing the stairs to get to the uppermost apartment. He tossed the huge bundle of cash onto the table, then sat down in the chair to wait.

About fifteen minutes later, Lestat started to turn in his sleep, mumbling to himself. His eyes fluttered open, and he sat up quickly. The moment he spotted Louis, though, his shoulders dropped in relief.

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighed. "I had horrible dreams that you were hurt."

Louis shook his head and moved to sit by his side. "No, I merely ran an errand at the bank." He indicated the sum on the table. "There is enough there for anything we need for quite a long time."

Lestat's eyes grew wide as he stared at the amount. "Is that all that was in the box?"

"No, merely a handful of gems." Louis kissed him, laying his head on his shoulder. He could almost smell the blood rushing through Lestat's veins.

Lestat could hear exactly what Louis was thinking, and he smiled. "I won't force anything on you," he said softly. "It has to be your choice."

"I already know my choice," Louis said, kissing him again. "I want you. I want you forever."

"There are drawbacks, though. We must kill. We must beware of other vampires, older ones. And we...can't...lay...with one another."

Louis shook his head, that did not matter to him. "Then let me lay with you now."

Lestat needed no other encouragement. He pushed Louis down on the bed, taking great pains not to hurt him carelessly. Louis gave no resistance, falling passively on the mattress.

"Are you ready now?" Lestat asked.

Louis nodded silently. Lestat unbuttoned Louis' shirt as slowly as he could, meaning to give his love as many chances to change his mind as was possible. Louis never did. His shirt came off with his shoes, and then the rest followed, and the pile was quickly topped by Lestat's clothing. Louis stared in wonder at the ivory body beside him, almost completely devoid of color. The last traces of hesitation left him as he realized he wanted Lestat totally.

Lestat grinned and gave in immediately when Louis took the upper hand, positioning himself on top of the vampire. Lestat adjusted his body to make it easier for his lover, then hissed as Louis thrust into him. If this was to be Louis' last night, he would make it a perfect one. He could hear his soon-to-be fledgling moaning with every climax.

Louis managed to continue several times until he finally fell in exhaustion beside Lestat. Somehow there had been an exchange of energy in the love making. Louis was weakened, and Lestat felt exhilarated. The vampire stroked the mortal's hair and face, caressing the pliant and warm body. Louis was between sleep and wakefulness, but this apartment was no place for his creation.

Louis was vaguely aware of the vampire gathering him up into his arms, and wrapping a blanket around his body. Colors mixed in front of his eyes as he was carried somewhere, a park it sounded like, except there were no sounds of horses or people nearby. He struggled to look up and found himself surrounded by the swamp.

"Lestat..." he mumbled in alarm, too feeble to help himself.

“Shh, it's all right. Nothing will bother us, I've seen to that." Lestat sat down on a knot of cypress wood and held Louis across his lap. "Are you ready?"

Louis nodded.

"I'm going to bite you, and drink most of your blood away. Whatever happens, you must stay awake. I will give you my blood to drink, and you must take as much as you can." Lestat almost expected Louis to struggle at that, but Louis only let his head fall back even more.

After that, Lestat bent and pierced Louis' throat. Louis groaned in a mixture of pleasure and pain, trembling as he weakened. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and his breath grew short. Then there was a stream of liquid at his lips, and he locked on with a ferociousness he had no idea he possessed. He heard Lestat moan. Then his blood was being drained again, and the fountain was given to him once more.

The moon had drifted across the sky by the time Lestat broke away. Louis shuddered once, then groaned again. Lestat lifted him up, then decided to ease entirely into the water so that Louis was submerged up to his chest.

"It hurts," Louis started to cry, the pain was sharp.

"It will be over soon," Lestat soothed him. "You're dying. Your body is getting rid of everything that won't be changed."

"Dying?" Louis whimpered. "I'm dying?"

Lestat nodded. "It's all right, you'll be fine. Just give it a little time. Look, see your skin? It's growing pale. And your hair is becoming more lustrous."

Louis stared at his hands, watching as the lines disappeared from his palm. Only the deepest ones remained, faint at best. He stared up at Lestat and gasped.

"Your eyes...they're like stars..." he whispered. He would have stared longer but a leaf fell down between them, catching his attention. The shape was fascinating, along with the colors that seemed to sparkle on the leaf. He peered closely at it, amazed for several minutes.

"My little fledgling," Lestat smiled at Louis' actions. It would be all right. Louis was no longer noticing any pain as his body emptied itself. Lestat looked down on him and kissed his forehead. When it was finished, he would take him back home to dress, and then he would take him to feed, probably on an animal first. "Tonight you'll sleep with me," he whispered. "And tomorrow we'll find a better place worthy of you."

Louis smiled, but his attention was wandering to the fabric of the blanket. Lestat just grinned and watched, making sure no animals headed their way.

Years and years later...

Louis and Lestat were in Baton Rouge, living in a small apartment in a decent neighborhood. No one suspected their true nature, nor the wealth they really possessed. They only knew that Louis was the quiet one, always with his books, and Lestat was the loud one, in his never-ending quest to make Louis go out with him once in awhile.

Piles of books were stacked neatly into shelves in the apartment living room. Once in awhile Lestat would knock a pile over and Louis would scold him, but then sometimes Louis left a candle burning alone, and Lestat would upbraid him in return. It grew worse when Louis accidentally set a shelf on fire. They'd managed to put it out, but they'd lost a ledger, which left Louis scrambling to reorganize their finances. Even though it was Lestat's money that started their fortune, Louis was the only reason they were wealthy. Lestat could not keep money even if it were made of glue. That was also the source of many arguments.

There were times that Louis would create a vast lump sum out of a few dollars, only to turn around and find Lestat spending it on what Louis thought were frivolous wastes, when Lestat believed they were necessary and thought nothing of it. Louis also created problems, trying to save money so much that he refused Lestat several things, like new clothes or new things for the house when old items could be repaired. In his defense, Lestat had closets full of outfits and the house was more than well-furnished, but Lestat always felt personally hurt when this happened. He was sure Louis was angry at him, or that he wasn't providing Louis with what he'd been used to as a mortal. Then he would go out and buy even more expensive books, which in turn would make Louis even more frustrated...

Communication was not their strong point.

Finally the conflict exploded in their faces. Louis had allowed Lestat only a small amount for the entire month, and that same night Lestat spent every cent on a new blanket for the bed, full of feathers and covered in silk. He set it on the bed, intending to tell Louis later, but the need to hunt was too strong to resist, and he left for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, Louis had finished his feeding and was returning home, only to step into the bedroom and find Lestat's new prize. He searched for the old blanket and found it in the linen closet, bunched up as a child might have done. It only had a few strings loose and a tiny tear in the corner.

"Louis, are you home?"

With fire in his eyes, Louis stormed out of the bedroom, glaring at Lestat across the living room. Lestat immediately knew he'd done something wrong and took a step back.

"How much did I give you this evening?" Louis asked coldly.

"Two thousand," Lestat replied, wincing at the tone.

"And how much did you spend tonight?"

"I...it..."

"How much?"

"All of it."

Louis sighed explosively, rolling his eyes. "Lestat, do you think I merely pluck this money from the air? It's extremely difficult to produce these amounts, and yet you seem to think it's a race, can you spend it all before I can make more!"

Lestat lowered his eyes. He hated making Louis angry. He hated being yelled at, it reminded him too much of his human existence.

"How am I supposed to keep us afloat when you keep spending everything I make?" Louis continued, coming closer. "There is the rent, and utilities, and taxes, and necessary things, truly necessary items, and repairs, and you want to waste money on a new blanket when the first one is perfectly fine!"

Tears sprung to Lestat's eyes, but his hands were slowly curling into fists. Louis could be so cruel when he was scolding him. He treated him like a foolish child, illiterate and ignorant. It was the fifth time this month Louis had done this.

"It wasn't perfectly fine, it was already tearing down the side!" Lestat yelled back.

"That can be sewn back up--!"

"It's been repaired twice already! I'm sick of living like a pauper, always shopping in thrift stores and scraping by when I know you have millions tucked away! I've seen your ledgers, I can understand some of them."

"You read those?" Louis hissed.

"You won't spend anything, you're too afraid to!" Lestat growled, taking a step forward. "You ran away from home and you're still running, still terrified you're going to lose everything! Heaven forbid the possibility that you become poor! Heaven forbid the chance that you might have to work, actually dirty your pretty hands and work! You're still a spoiled plantation brat, you still have to have all the money you can." Lestat's eyes narrowed menacingly, and Louis backed against the wall, pushing himself into a corner. "Do you despair thinking about the chance that you might do something more physical than pick up a book? Does the rich boy like having a working boy, is it nice playing pretend?"

Louis shook his head in shock. "No, Lestat...I...that isn't how I think of you at all...I love you..." He still lowered his head, however, realizing that Lestat was right about his attitude toward money. He was still afraid of becoming one of the poor he sometimes saw on the streets.

"How can I believe that?" Lestat kept going, his voice rising. "No, Lestat, you mustn't do that. No, Lestat, don't you dare do that. I'm always doing something wrong, I can never do anything right for you! Would you like me to take to the streets and bring you more money? Or since I didn't have your excellent education, maybe all I'm good for is warming your bed!"

Louis was astonished at all of this, he had no idea Lestat felt that way. The tears in his maker's eyes told him Lestat was sincere, though. It didn't matter if it was true, all that mattered was that Lestat believed it. He believed it so much that his emotions were on the verge of making him incoherent. Louis wanted to tell his lover that he was wrong, but Lestat suddenly started forward, his eyes glowing in anger. Louis had never seen him so angry. With a frightened squeak he ran around Lestat and raced down the empty streets.

When he looked behind himself, he saw Lestat running after him. Louis picked up his speed, even though he was starting to lose his breath. A few minutes later his side cramped, and he paused in the street, glancing to his left.

A small child sat in plain view, beside a decaying corpse. There was a jeweled locket around the dead woman's throat, rendered in gold on a yellow chain. Nothing else in the room seemed of value, and he wondered why it was still there.

Oh, yes, the fever epidemic, he thought absent-mindedly. I forgot.

The girl stared straight at him with a look that was an odd mix of fear and indifference. He stood and looked at her, taking a step towards her--

"Louis!"

He turned and saw Lestat only a few yards away, and he started running again, leaving the little girl far behind. He would never see her again.

After half an hour of hard running, Louis ducked into an alley, hoping to lose Lestat. Instead he found that it was a dead end. Hearing the footsteps behind him, he collapsed into a miserable heap. He was certain Lestat was going to hurt him. He started to cry, wondering how he'd made Lestat so mad.

Strong hands hauled him up and shoved him against the brick wall, making him whimper even though it didn't hurt at all. Suddenly Lestat's hands turned soft again, not gripping Louis like a vise. He'd never seen his fledgling cry like this. It frightened him so much that his body ran cold.

"Louis?" Lestat asked timidly, brushing his lover's cheek. Blood smeared on his fingertips. "No, don't cry, chere..."

Louis didn't answer. He just kept his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see the first punch, or see the enraged look on Lestat's face. He couldn't stop weeping, though, and he held perfectly still, waiting for his maker to slap him.
Lestat had never felt so guilty in his life. Louis seemed so helpless and here he was, only making it worse. Their argument disappeared from his mind, and all he could think about now was calming his fledgling down and making him smile again. He pulled Louis against himself and bent down so he could scoop him up. Carrying him like that all the way back home, he didn't even glance aside at the door Louis had stared through. The girl was gone, as was the locket.

Moments later, Louis found himself back on their bed, Lestat leaning over him and dabbing his tears away. His emotions swung from despair to fury. He sat up quickly and turned his back on Lestat, sitting on the far side of the bed.

"Mon amor?"

"Ah, so now I am your love again?" Louis snarled, hugging himself. He felt chilled for some reason. "You changed your mind about hitting me?"

"Louis, I would never hurt you," Lestat whispered. He tried to touch Louis' shoulder, and his fledgling flinched, drawing away. "I love you. But why did you run away? Did you really think I would hit you? Louis?" There was no response. He tried again to touch Louis, but the other vampire just moved away again. "Louis? Louis, please, don't ignore me. Louis, chere...please, look at me. Louis? Louis?"

Still no response. Lestat started to cry, and he put his handkerchief up to his face to muffle his sobs. He ran out of the room then, unable to stand the silence. If he couldn't even touch Louis...he went to the small room in the corner of the apartment and sat down in the tiny space, closing the door again. It was quiet and dark, and he didn't have to think about anything. All he had to do was cry.

Half a minute later Louis looked up and realized that he was alone. He took several deep breaths, then stood up. He groaned and started to berate himself. You fool, he was trying to apologize and you pretended he wasn't even there. And he wasn't even going to hurt you. He loves you and you trampled his heart. He left the room and looked out. Lestat wasn't in the main room or the adjoining ones, he could see that, so either he'd left or...

Louis opened the door to the small corner office and found Lestat sitting in a corner, still trying to stop his eyes up with the handkerchief. Louis quietly sat beside him and took the cloth away, easily pulling it from Lestat's hands. Then he leaned over and kissed his cheeks, lapping away the blood as he'd done the night he was made. When he had finished, Lestat looked up at him.

"You love me?"

Louis nodded with a small smile. He kissed Lestat and curled up against his side. Soon the sun would rise, but there were no windows in this room. Good, he didn't want to move. Lestat lay his arm over Louis and held him tight.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he whispered.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Louis replied. "But you're right. I am afraid of becoming poor."
"Did you run the plantation like this?"

Louis nodded slightly. "I was terrified of being ruined, and losing my books. It was the only reason I cared about running it."

Lestat grinned. "That will never happen. I'll do my best to keep you happy."

"And I'll stop being such a bother to you."

"You never are, my love. You never are."

The dawn was only a few moments away, and Lestat looked down on his drowsing fledgling. One last kiss, and then he shut his eyes on a new day.

The End