Warning: Humor alert. Semi-funny stuff inside.

Spoilers: If you're reading this part, then you should go read the Chronicles first.

The song suddenly ended, leaving Lestat in a dark room all alone. He sighed and put up his headphones. He loved that song, but it was always better if he was demonstrating on Louis exactly what the song meant. But no, Louis wasn't in the mood. Louis hadn't been "in the mood" for a long time now.

Lestat narrowed his eyes. "Well, then, it's time to put him in the mood." He stood up and listened carefully.

The house was entirely silent. Then, from the upstairs bedroom, he heard a page turn. A tiny chuckle echoed

down soon after.

"Found you," Lestat smiled. "Let's go see what you're reading." He quietly ascended into the air, silently hovering to the bedroom door, which was flung open. Louis was lying on his stomach on the sofa, reading something which he found quite amusing. Lestat floated over to him, hanging in the air without alerting Louis that he wasn't alone. Lestat grinned, then reached down and grabbed Louis' shoulders. "Got ya!"

"Gah!" Louis yelped involuntarily and froze in surprise. "Damn it, Lestat, that was not nice!"

Lestat, laughing uncontrollably, dropped from the air and landed on the sofa, holding his sides. "Oh, Louis, the look on your face! Priceless! Absolutely priceless!"

"For the love of..." Louis' voice trailed off, especially since he knew he couldn't stop Lestat's laughing fits. He tossed his book on the floor and tried to slide off the sofa.

He wasn't fast enough, though. Lestat noticed his little maneuver and grabbed his ankle, pulling him back onto the sofa and beneath his own body. Louis glared impatiently at him.

"Lestat, please..." he sighed in exasperation. "I was reading."

"Yes, you were. Now you're not." Lestat brushed his knuckles gently over Louis' cheek. "What were you reading, my sweet? What was so interesting that you couldn't spare a few minutes to talk to me?"

Louis smirked. "Lestat, a 'few minutes' with you turns into a few hours of nothing but making out the couch."

"Exactly." Lestat nuzzled Louis' neck, kissing the soft skin. "So what were you reading? Another ridiculous Dickens novel?"

Louis glanced away, suddenly very interested in the upholstery patterns. "Um...not quite," he mumbled.

Lestat reached on the floor and picked up the book. "Linda Goodman's Sun Signs?" He grinned at Louis, who was blushing in embarrassment. "Chere, I would never have thought you would believe this sort of nonsense."

"It isn't nonsense," Louis said testily. "And besides, most mortals would believe we were nonsense."

Lestat kissed Louis red cheeks, warm from the sudden rush of blood. "Oh, darling, but believing that stars dictate your destiny? Next you'll say the sun revolves around the earth."

"No, but you certainly believe the sun revolves around you," Louis retorted, snatching the book back.

Lestat gave him a look of mock horror. "You mean it doesn't?" he gasped.

Louis couldn't help but laugh. "Lestat, why do you make me laugh when I'm supposed to angry with you?"

Lestat gave him another kiss and rolled onto the floor, sitting cross-legged like a child as he stared up at his fledgling. "I have to make you laugh, other wise you'd read through eternity without looking up once in a great while."

"You think books are boring," Louis stated, sitting up.

"They are," Lestat insisted. "It's more fun to go out and have fun than to sit home and read about it. There's nothing interesting in books."

"Oh?" Louis raised an eyebrow. "Lestat, do you remember when you were born?"

Lestat rolled his eyes. "Born? Gabrielle's the only one who'd think about something like that. We never celebrated it, and it's been so long since I last bothered to remember."

"My poor brat," Louis sighed. "Well, it doesn't matter what day you were born. I know what you are anyway."

"What I am?" Lestat laughed. "I should hope so, you've known me for a few dozen decades."

Louis opened the book up and flipped through the pages until he came to the right one. "Ah, here we go. How to Recognize Leo."

"Leo? What's that?"

"The lion," Louis said almost condescendingly, "one of the twelve figures of the zodiac. And it's what you are. A Leo."

Lestat sighed and lay back on the plush carpet. "And what does your ridiculous book say about me?"

Louis smiled and began to read. "'It's not at all unusual for Leo to display his arrogant pride and his sunny playfullness at the same time, which is why he gets away with murder.' Sound like anyone you know?"

"Not at all."

"Ha! Well, there's more. 'Leo, the lion, rules all the other animals. Leo, the person,'"

"See, I guess I'm not a lion, I'm a person!" Lestat said in a triumphant voice.

"Hush, I'm reading. 'Leo, the person, rules you and everybody else. (He really doesn't, but don't tell him. It would break his big, warm, egotistical heart.)"

"I am not egotistical!"

"I said hush. 'It's best to humor him. Then he'll purr, instead of roaring and scaring you half to death. The lion alternates between being energentically gregarious and beautifully indolent, as he stifles a luxurious yawn. If you want to study the beast, hit all of the bright, sparkling places around town. At least half of the people you see living it up in style will be Leos. The shyer pussycats willl be at home living it up. Leo hates the dark and boredom equally'." Louis looked up with a sly grin.

Lestat pouted and looked to his left. "I'm not a pussy cat," was all he said.

Louis didn't let up. It was fun getting to Lestat. "'You won't ignore the lion for long in a group. He'll either get the center of the stage with dramatic statements and action--or he'll get it by pouting and sulking behind the potted palms until someone rushes over to ask what's wrong. The sign produces its share of blue eyes, and the hair is dark or reddish blonde and usually wavy, worn in a wild, careless style that upsweeps, and there's a noticeable ruddy complexion'."

Lestat had become uncomfortably quiet as he heard all of his attributes listed before him. "I don't sulk," he argued.

Louis could see he needed to reassure his brat before he went any further. He came off the sofa and sat next to Lestat, gently kissing his lips as he tangled his fingers in his hair.

"It's still nonsense," Lestat insisted.

"Of course, mon chere," Louis laughed. He sat sideways so he could read the book and show the text to Lestat at the same time. "'This is what makes the lion so downright lovable; his honest superiority and excellent abilities--'"

"At last she's getting me right."

"'--incongruously mixed up with a terrible, transparent vulnerability of ego. The proud, dignified cat vulnerable? Yes, indeed. He's deeply wounded when you don't respect his wisdom and generosity. To subdue him, simply flatter him. Nine times out of ten, he'll turn from a roaring best into a bashful, docile kitten, almost visibly rolling and basking in the warmth of compliements. Flattery acts like catnip to him, lack of respect blinds him with rage and both extremes make him incapable of balanced judgement."

"Now she's wrong there!"

"So she is right on the other items?"

"I didn't say that. I'm saying flattery does not do that to me, and I do not get angry when people disrespect me."

"Armand."

Lestat opened his mouth, then shut it. "You're not being very nice," he pouted.

"See, you're pouting already." Louis wrapped his arms around his lover and held him close, almost laying him across his lap. "You're so sweet, my love. So utterly, perfectly lovable."

"You're just using flattery."

Louis shook his head. "Never, my angel. I'm telling you the truth. I love you."

Lestat sighed and relaxed in Louis' arms. It was wonderful just to let his fledgling hold him, and to hold him in return. Still, a little thought kept creeping through his head until he couldn't put it off. He pulled away a few inches and stared at Louis. "And what does it say about you, chere? What animal are you?"

Louis just smiled, but Lestat could see the worry lines building in his face. "Nothing much, Lestat, yours is so much more interesting."

"Chere...what does her book say about you?" Lestat demanded, holding Louis tight. "Let me see that." He snagged the book out of Louis' hands and opened it up. "Come on, tell me what you are."

"Lestat..." Louis would have protested more but Lestat grabbed him by his shoulders and hauled him back onto the couch, holding him down forcibly. Louis tried to swat Lestat away, but his maker only laughed and reached down toward Louis' feet, slipping off the thin socks. "Lestat, what are you doing?"

"We have ways of making you talk," Lestat giggled. "Tell us your..." he looked into the book to remember the word, "...zodiac sign. Or else."

"Or else what?" Louis dared.

"Or else your pants come off!" Lestat's fingers worked at his buttons, slowly pulling the torn jeans away.

"Lestat!"

"That's not a zodiac sign!" Lestat's hands went to his fledgilng's shirt and tore away the thread-bare shirt. "Last chance, or the boxers go!"

"Pisces!" Louis gave in. "I'm a Pisces, now stop it!"

Lestat let Louis up, sitting on the sofa as his lover headed for the door. "Pisces...pisces," he mused, turning to the right page. He looked up, grinned, and mentally shut the door before Louis could reach it. "Oh no, I had to hear mine, now you get to hear yours. Have a seat."

Louis glared at him, but Lestat really could get away with murder. Clad only in the green teddy bear boxers Lestat had bought him, he sat down by his maker.

"Let's see, Pisces." Lestat didn't read whole passages like Louis did. He instead skimmed for the more interesting items. 'I don't want to be a millionaire--I just want to live like one!' Louis, darling, that is you to a T! 'Few Pisces people accumulate money by the bushel, unless they marry it or inherit it.' So true, where would you be without your lover to take care of you? 'The skin is silky soft; the hair is fine. Some Piscean eyes are simply beautiful.' Louis, she knows all about you!"

Louis blushed and turned away shyly, only to be dragged into Lestat's arms.

"'Pisces people are wise to stay miles away from alcohol. It lulls them pleasantly with a false sense of security.' Ah, this is interesting...'The fish typically doesn't take very good care of himself. Their troubles are either emotional or financial, but either can be a serious drain on Piscean health, which is rarely robust to begin with.' My poor little angel, perhaps this woman really does know what she's talking about! She knows just how delicate you are!"

"And she knows how insufferable you can be!"

Lestat tossed the book back onto the end table and hauled his lover even further into his embrace. "I live only to infuriate you, darling."

"You do a marvelous job of it," Louis retorted. As he lay helplessly in Lestat's hold, he felt one of his lover's warm hands slide down his chest and stomach, heading to the elastic waistband of his boxers. "Lestat...what are you doing?"

"I was just curious as to how tight these fit on you," Lestat laughed, reaching in and fondling Louis shamelessly.

"Lestat! Stop that!" Louis tried to push Lestat's hand away, only to lose his boxers in the process. Lestat dangled the cloth teasingly for a moment, then tossed it behind the couch. "Lestat, this isn't fair!"

"No, it isn't," Lestat giggled. "Would you like to make out here or on the bed? Mind you, this is the only decision you get to make. This lion rules the house, after all."

"You are not the ruler of this house, Lestat, no matter what you want to think."

Lestat didn't answer at first, he just switched places with Louis, placing his fledgling's naked body on the bottom while he lorded over him. "The couch it is, then!" Finally he noticed the tie in Louis' hair and pulled it away, letting the dark hair swirl around the pale face. He reached up and grabbed Louis' hands, wrapped the ribbon around Louis' wrists and knotted it off.

Instead of fighting, though, Louis put his arms around Lestat's head and smiled enticingly. "Sometimes it takes you forever to come in and rule me, Monseiur Lion. I was starting to get worried."

Lestat raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Careful, Monsieur Denizen of the Deep, you'll make me think you like being taken against your will. Now, are you going to try to undress me, or do I get a willing bookworm for tonight?"

"We have several hours left in the night," Louis whispered, kissing Lestat's cheek. "Time enough for everything."

The End