Title: Janette At Noon Author: DCE aka ViciousGurl Email: geek-tastic AT gmx DOT com Archive: Nowhere without my written permission. Disclaimers: This is a FK/HL xover. All the FK characters and concept belong to TriStar, Inc. and the HL characters and concept belong to Davis/Panzer Productions, Inc. No infringement is intended. The rest of the cast and this story are created and copyrighted by me. Dedication: This one is for all my fellow Raven/ettes. Feedback: Yes, please :) This story follows my previous one: 'Spring Break' which can be found on my web page at http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/fic/index.html JANETTE AT NOON by DCE aka ViciousGurl (c)1999 It was already noon, and she just could not fall asleep. She'd dozed, on and off, for a few hours since just after dawn but true sleep eluded her. Sighing, she stared at the ceiling for five more minutes before finally giving up. Carefully, so she would not disturb her sleeping companion, she set aside the sheets and got up. Her bare feet made no sound as she wandered aimlessly around the apartment. Her new home of eighteen months wasn't huge but it was comfortably spacious. A nice change after the somewhat more cramped quarters she'd occupied for so many years at the Raven. She'd settled on an Art Deco motif for the apartment, partly in an effort to set it clearly apart from the Raven. To have a visual reminder that this was a new life. It was sometimes difficult to totally let go of the past, and she'd stayed in Toronto for a long time. Still, she didn't miss the club, not really. It had been fun while it had lasted but it had been time to move on. And she enjoyed her new life. She loved her new career, as well, but she wasn't altogether certain that she'd found her place quite yet, geographically speaking. Perhaps she'd stayed in Toronto for too long as she seemed to be drifting now, unable to set down roots again. Oh, she'd tried to, first in Quebec and now in Montreal, but she felt -- restless. She missed Paris. She'd actually toyed with the idea of relocating again but Paris was so far away from everything. From her family. Granted, the distance didn't seem as great now as it had only a century or two ago, but it was still a long way from the New Continent. And she wasn't like Nicolas. As much as she enjoyed her freedom she still liked to be close to her family. Family. Despite the fact that none of them now lived even in the same city she felt that her family was now closer knit than it had been for centuries. Oh, they'd always been a close family, LaCroix had made certain of that but most of the time it had been a forced closeness. She didn't even bother trying to recall how many years she'd spent with her master chasing after her rebellious brother. The further he'd run the more determined LaCroix had been to reel him back in. But now... Now, they all seemed to have found a certain measure of contentment in their relationships with each other. Nicolas had finally stopped running, and LaCroix seemed to have found something he'd needed in Antonia. Certainly, he hadn't been badgering his children with quite the same zealousness these last few years as he'd used to. Of course, it could just be a change in tactics, it wouldn't be the first time, but she wasn't complaining. As for herself -- well, she was enjoying life in general, and her new companion in particular. The thought of her lover led her back to the bedroom. She paused at the doorway and just gazed at the dark-haired vampire lying on the rumpled sheet, dead to the world, sleeping. Watching him, she couldn't help thinking how mismatched they really were. Compared to her he was still almost a mere fledgling. He was younger in both mortal and immortal years but then, time meant very little to their kind. She was a woman of means, as the saying goes, where as he always seemed to be nearly penniless. She had a certain position within the vampire community and she liked to be in the center of things, he stayed on the outskirts, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. She was the epitome of class, he -- was not. And still, he was the one sleeping in her bed instead of one of the dozen or so more 'suitable' volunteers. He wasn't golden as her beloved Nicolas was. His fire burnt darker, in every sense of the word. But, just like Nicolas, he was, in a word, exquisite. All of her companions were, in one way or another. Because she liked them that way. Because she chose them that way. Oh, she received countless offers, but she was always the one to make the choosing. No one picked her up. She picked them. Every relationship she'd had since her mortal days, meaningful or not, had been on her terms. No man had used her since the night LaCroix had made her eternal. She'd met her new companion in one of Montreal's vampire hangouts. She frequented the place to stay on top of what was going on in the community, he'd been covering for an absent guitarist of a local band. Like all the younger ones he'd stayed clear of the older, more powerful vampires, including her, but his dark eyes had kept following her. And she'd noticed. At first, he'd amused her. He still did actually, but that wasn't all. She enjoyed his company. And she liked his independence. Smiling to herself she moved to sit next to him on the bed and feasted her eyes on his sleeping form. He was .. delicious. An ardent and enthusiastic lover. Passionate, but not *too* eager to please; he was many things but a lap dog he was not. Neither of them pretended that what they had together was some great love affair but realized it for what it was - a pleasant interlude. Suddenly, she found herself hungry, and in a mood for a little interlude. Quietly, she slipped in beside him and s l o w l y slid her fingers along his chest and stomach while her searching mouth found his ear. "Javier, wake up..." - Fade Out -