All characters beloved creations of JLP and BC.

Red and White Velvet
a 1998 Christmas challenge story
by elfin

Nick opened his eyes with a groan, and found himself instantly hypnotised by the synchronised flashing of the small coloured lights that hung in long waves above his head. He could feel the sun slowly setting outside over the lake, and he absently speculated on exactly how long it had been since he had felt quite so ill. He assumed the pounding headache had much to do with an over-indulgence of some kind, and had to strain to remember the events of the night before.

He closed his eyes again as random images cycled through his mind. Christmas eve. A party. Many bottles of special vintage "mulled" bloodwine. Some tall guy in a red and white outfit with a false beard handing him a sack. Nick groaned as his memory gained enough coherence to start to piece together the puzzle for his befuddled brain.

He had left work early and driven to the Raven, intending to wish LaCroix a merry Christmas and to present him with the gift he had bought. LaCroix had not celebrated Christmas in centuries, so Nick's discovery of a Yuletide party in full swing at the club had been something of a surprise. "Mortals," he remembered LaCroix complaining, "will always find a party on Christmas eve, whether they are surrounded by vicious killers or not."

The atmosphere had been contagious, and soon, after one too many tempting offers from scantily dressed vampires, Nick had found himself dancing with the crowd, drinking down a few too many glasses of the speciality mixed brew, and talking with age-old friends he had not conversed with in years. At one point, he remembered, he had taken LaCroix a glass of the mulled bloodwine and had caught a few snippets of the Nightcrawler monologue for the night. The topic, "Magic and its Many Guises", was strange and different, and Nick had bestowed a smile of delight upon his master before leaving the CERK booth.

The party had swung on. At just gone four, LaCroix had finished his broadcast and wandered out to join in the fun. Nick's memories were slightly fuzzy from about that time. He remembered LaCroix coming to sit with him at a crowded table, squeezing in between Nick and another fresh-faced vampire youth, and bringing another two unopened bottles to their small gathering. The ancient had been uncharacteristically merry, and the laughter from their table had peeled out above the thankfully unseasonal music.

There was a rough memory of a very red-faced Urs coming to sit with them, and making herself comfortable on Vachon's lap. The Spaniard had lost interest in the conversation soon after that. At seeing the two together, a rare sight indeed, LaCroix had said something whimsical, something about Christmas being bringing out the best and worst in all creatures. Nick remembered that his father's fairytale-tone had caught his attention, and for some reason drawn inexplicably to that pale, sensual mouth.

Lying flat on his back, diagonally across his bed, Nick groaned again as he remembered suddenly turning from the table and plundering his stunned master's lips with his teeth and tongue. The warmth of the mulled bloodwine had melted the mortal exterior that usually separated him from the rest of his kind and had left him with a strange need to be close to his family, to be caught up in the Christmas spirit.

After that he had only vague recollections. Sometime in the early hours, he and LaCroix had gone somewhere quiet, maybe the back rooms at the club, and he had finally given his father the gift he had brought. He remembered distinctly the amazed expression on LaCroix's face upon opening the gaily wrapped box and drawing out the gold chain and inscribed pocket watch. Nick had had the jeweller script "For Eternity" inside the case.

Later events were merely a blur. He had gone back into the club after everyone had left, presumably to fetch more bottles, and remembered seeing Urs and Vachon abusing one of LaCroix's inexpensive tables. He remembered also that the dance floor was in a worse state than usual, and the gothic "Hellraiser"-style ceiling chains were adorned with thin ribbons of coloured paper from party-popper explosions.

And there was still the matter of the guy in the funny red and white suit giving him a sack of presents.

Nick brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes, keeping them shut. He supposed it was Christmas day. "Merry Christmas, De Brabant." He uttered the words without mirth as he dropped his hands back down onto the bed. Something soft under his right hand made him frown. He rubbed his fingers over what felt like soft velvet. Knowing well that he owned only silk sheets, he continued to trace the material across, and suddenly the side of his hand hit something small and cold. He nudged it.
It tinkled.
A bell.
A small bell.
Nick's malicious memory started to feed him more images from the previous night. Santa Claus had worn a hat with small bells on the top. Santa Claus had been a very friendly fellow. Opening his eyes, Nick lifted his head and looked down at the other side of the bed.

Lying on his side, propped up on one elbow and still wearing the now open jacket of the lucious red and white velvet Santa outfit, LaCroix was gazing at him over a stunningly sensual smile. "Merry Christmas indeed, Nicholas." His father's seductively low tones drew an instant response from his hungry body. Shaking his head slowly, Nick dropped back to the bed.

*Now* he remembered everything.

fin - perhaps....
elfin