A Cold Heart Unexpectedly Warmed November 2002 By: Patty Costantino Notes to reader: As some of you probably know by now, I mostly write about N&N, so an insight piece about Janette is a departure from the norm for me, but I enjoy a good challenge. (g) I’ve always loved Janette’s poignant words in Human Factor, so I decided to create a story around them, writing it from her POV and having it take place in Montreal during the third season before that episode. Janette’s reflections about her present day relationship with Nick are based on my observations from season 2 episodes in *production*, not *air* time order. Spoilers from episodes: Crazy Love, Partners of the Month, Blood Money, Be My Valentine, A More Permanent Hell and Human Factor. Summary: After receiving a letter, Janette reflects on her reasons for leaving Toronto and the changes taking place in her new life in Montreal, which produces a self-revelation. Disclaimer and Characters: Nick, Janette, LaCroix, Robert, Natalie don’t belong to me. I’m just borrowing them for a little while. Dedication: I would like to thank my beta-reader, Phylis Sullivan for her tremendous help with my grammar, spelling, punctuation and getting the story to sound better. I couldn't have done it without her wonderful suggestions. Hugs and virtual chocolates. Permission is granted to archive at FKfanfic2, FK FTP archive. This story will be archived at my site at http:/www.expage.com/patty43. Any constructive criticism or thoughts are greatly appreciated and welcomed at psmoot43@hotmail.com. Flames will be used to light Janette’s cigarettes, which she holds in those elegant, long stem cigarette holders. (g) ************************************* A Cold Heart Unexpectedly Warmed By Patty Costantino/psmoot43@hotmail.com Chapter 01/01 ************************************* Janette’s words from Human Factor: A vampire’s heart must be cold. Immortality makes this so. Death is always around us, but it must never touch us. We cannot allow the emotion of loss to infect us…. Lacroix knew this and I agreed with him. But… After eight centuries, you (Nicolas) could no longer live without your humanity. And I thought you might be right. Eight hundred years is a long time to live with a cold heart… Just for yourself. ******************************************* The elegant handwriting stares back at me, as I brush my fingers along the rough edge of the paper, the parchment feeling coarse against my supple skin. I draw in a slow breath more from my roiling emotions than physical needs, and then placing the letter on the desk blotter, stand up. Dismissing my turbulent musings momentarily, I move to the window, turning in time to capture the last rays of the sun descending below the horizon, painting a kaleidoscopic sea of purples, oranges and reds across the evening sky. It is quite beautiful… breathtaking in fact…. I have almost forgotten what it means to behold this vibrant canvas of color with my keen, but sensitive vision, or feel this warm caress of sunshine on my hypersensitive, but pale, alabaster skin. I sigh, contented by the delightful, languid feeling. A week ago, this miraculous transformation would not have been possible. But nothing anymore is, as it seems. There have been many changes… many inexplicable changes twisting my normally ordered world into rapturous bliss. I smile, elated by the paradisiacal, warm remembrance. For a moment longer, I remain at the window allowing the joyful feelings to wash over me not unlike one of my soothing, oil-scented baths, then my thoughts revert to the letter and my smile fades. Returning to the desk, again I reach for the parchment regarding the fine penmanship, and then draw in another deep breath, this time, out of concern. Lacroix has written as I was somewhat assured that he would. At first, his letter, light-hearted in tone with his customary dash of sardonic amusement, discussed the distasteful changes that he has made to the Raven. Upon gaining this morsel of information, I was not as entertained as he was, having shivered inwardly with unsettled revulsion. As I read on, however, my disagreeableness dissolved into calmness, once he spoke of his fulfilled promise to me to protect the strays. As I continued, though, my relief was soon replaced with worry, when I arrived at the most difficult part of the letter. Nicolas… It seems that since my departure from Toronto six months ago, he has endured many setbacks, and without me there to ease his burden, LaCroix is naturellement (naturally) optimistic for his imminent return to us. I, on the other hand, do not share in the same hopeful confidence. Oh… twelve months ago, it is true that I thought differently, agreeing with him, as at the time, I was encouraged by Nicolas’ unexpected, impassioned ardor towards me. All at once, my lips curl into a mischievous smile, as the sudden memories flood my mind carrying me back to that impetuous, passionate time… He was having control problems, and feeling the overwhelming compulsion to possess, sought me out and I came…willingly, and consentingly… He asked me to meet him by the lake, his voice betraying unusual tenseness over the phone. Upon my arrival, I learned quickly how strained he had become, standing there, staring at me through blazing red eyes and descended fangs, arousing me, enticing me...drawing me ever near… With wild, ruthless abandon, he pulled me into his arms, and wasting no time, penetrated my soft, creamy flesh with his fangs, drawing my life force into him, the intoxicating sensations of being drained arousing me more. At the same time, an image of a young girl being possessed by Nicolas, taken by him, assaulted my senses exciting me even more, taking me over the edge. I was unable to hesitate a moment longer, plunging my own fiercely into him. The bloodlust was …incroyable…(incredible)…between us…so erotic…so intense. Unfortunately, the overwhelming moment did not last long, dissipating when Nicolas pulled away abruptly, and was replaced with his perpetual guilt and tedious need to resist the vampire. In a vain, ineffectual attempt, I asked him to spend the day with me, not the least surprised when he refused, explaining away his eternal fight to suppress his needs. However, as I watched him fly away, anticipation grew within me, my eyes blazing with hope. Our rekindled blood bond had strengthened the threads of our connection and I was certain that he would not be able to deny his true nature, his desires for me…for my blood and body. Soon, he would be with us, and it would be not unlike centuries ago, before and during our marriage, as if nothing had ever changed between us. At least I thought so… It would have been an understatement to say I was very surprised, but quite pleased when he called the next evening, asking in a shy, reticent manner if we could meet again by the lake. I consented suppressing my growing expectations. Later, by the lake, I continued to remain unbelievably composed abating my mounting excitement, as he wrapped his arm gently around my waist pulling me closer, his lips wavering tantalizingly within inches of mine, the electric spark palpable between us. It seemed that an interminable, breathless eternity passed before his lips captured mine in a long, searing kiss and then I was lost, melting against him, moaning his name, as the mounting anticipation ignited into a consuming passion. Oh… It had been too long and I wanted him so… Tremors of delight rushed through me as the kisses intensified between us. I encircled my arms more tightly around his neck, tangling my long delicate fingers through his soft golden locks, pressing myself against him. He responded immediately, his hands wandering up and down the curve of my back in fast, demanding strokes, and finally coming to rest on the soft roundness of my lower backside, he hugged me hard and close to him. Rapidly, our passion climbed to a feverish pitch, as our bodies seemed to mold into one cool, liquid mixture, and we made love under the star-filled sky. Unlike the previous night, he decided to spend the day with me. But, unlike before, each time we joined in an almost frenzied lovemaking, giving and taking of each other’s blood and flesh, his sweet nectar showed me some disturbing feelings…and images… Natalie… Through the threads of our blood connection, I sensed pain and hurt…*his* pain and hurt, directed at her. As the contact grew between us, an unmistakable scene began to emerge. It was apparent he had given an open confession to her about understanding the need to possess, producing an unexpected dismissal from her. His hurt and disappointment to her reaction and his fear of driving her away if he admitted more had made him stop. Her love, and most of all, respect had meant everything to him. To admit his lowly urges and base desires now, when their friendship had grown, might send her running in horror fracturing those feelings. He could not afford to lose that special bonding, which had been slowly… tentatively forged. She meant too much to him for that to happen. She was his sun…. his light… Thus, through his blood, I had discovered the veritable reasons for his surprising attentiveness. Afraid and unable to confess all to Natalie and possessing a need to connect with someone, he had come to me. At first, not unlike many times in the past, I simply shrugged off those thoughts and Nicolas’ feelings for this woman as merely another one of his numerous mortal dalliances, slipping into a shroud of indifference and placing a veil of silence between us. Over the centuries, it had been part of Nicolas’ nature to be involved with many…*many* mortal paramours for whom I had seldom given much more than a passing glance. They were fleeting and never long lasting like colorful foliage in the changing seasons, and resulted frequently in a *dead* end. In spite of these liaisons, he would always return to me…as he had this time. Or… had he? For a while, I pretended to think the former… In the aftermath of that day of intense lovemaking, it was to be Nicolas’ pattern to show up on sporadic occasions, once after the return of my Leonardo portrait and other times when his amorous needs became too great. Each time, I would provide him with my art of rest and relaxation, welcoming him with gentle kisses upon his furrowed, troubled brow, and feather-light caresses upon his tense, firm body. But, each time, as our entwined bodies danced in a familiar rhythm, our mingled blood singing in one another’s veins, *she* would be there…intruding… ever near… His love for her, which he had denied for so long, was growing…ever stronger with each passing day. But still, I tried to delude myself. Mais bien sur, my euphoric delusion became a cold-hearted reality when, in the aftermath of the near-loss of his blood money, Nicolas showed up at my club, content to settle down for the day with me. His desire for closeness and need to unburden himself to someone over the money were undeniable. So…bien, as always, when something tainted from his past… something he was unwilling to share with her came along, he had turned to me. And, I was there to ease his tenacious guilt and mounting desires for her… But, this time I could not look away… At first, always being the timeless knight and perpetual gentleman, he attempted to hide his thoughts and feelings from me, but Nicolas has never been very good at concealing them, especially through our blood link. The first few drops of his blood revealed the truth to me…the truth I had ignored for too long. They had confessed their love, and for one brief moment, he had been truly happy until LaCroix had shattered yet another one of his unfulfilled dreams. Hastily, before our master could call in the debt exacting his revenge, Nicolas had denied his love for her to him, ever the noble knight trying to save her. As I continued to drink deeply from him, other images then began to assail my mind~ Her wish to join him, to be brought across into our world of darkness during the asteroid scare, temptation to give into her desire, so they could finally be together and then rejection by him…hurt…pain…and dismissal from Natalie. Going to Spark…rescue…mine (get away from her)… mine … a wall around her feelings. Hurt and more pain. It was clear through our blood link that from this last experience, a bridge had been erected; a wall built around their wounded spirits, separating them from each other. However, in spite of this, Nicolas loved her still. I could deny it no longer. His heart and… what was left of his soul… burned for another. He had loved her through me, and those tender feelings, which he held in his heart for her, were drawing him further away from us and closer to his desire for mortality. It was also this incessant yearning for a mortal life that was beginning to affect me. Yes, it was true. Secretly, I was beginning to have aspirations for my own mortality, but… I was afraid. Afraid that if I began to covet it as he did, I would suffer the same disappointments, the same defeat that his quest had brought him. I could not abide such torment. So it was simple. I could not stay, watching his love bloom for this mortal and, at the same time, allowing him to poison me with this craving for a mortal life. I needed to leave, get away…start a new life. So I came here… to Montreal, a taste of Paris, but not too far from the family, to reaffirm the vampire in me. Unbeknownst to me, though, my life was about to take a distinct turn…a different path… It is strange how in this life one can be thrown startling, ironic surprises… bizarre twists of fate. I was not looking to transform my life into something different. I would have been content living it not unlike the way I had in Toronto, perhaps becoming the owner of another nightclub for which the strays would have a place to go. But, it appears that I was destined to get caught in the very dilemma I had left to avoid. Robert… I met him and his son, Patrick a month ago, and from the first, when they brought me here to their loft, my world began evolving into something special…something unique. There was a beautiful harmony in our newly formed family… a family that I had always maintained a hidden yearning for in my heart. Our relationship too, Robert’s and mine, seemed perfect from the very start. There was magical rightness about it, and the first time we made love, I knew that we were simply meant to be. At the time, we discussed the risks, and in an attempt to ensure his safety, I consumed extra vintages from my finest stock, but we were prepared for the strong possibility of his crossing into my world of darkness. However... surprisingly when he allowed me to feed from him, his blood calmed my hunger and warmed my cold heart, and I pulled away taking just a little. Bewilderingly… fate had somehow interceded, setting me on a new course, a new beginning. I was changing…regaining my mortality. And each time, during our tender lovemaking, I needed less of his blood and more of his love and humanity. Even now, as I sit at my desk in the gathering dusk, the shadows casting black stripes across the hardwood floor, I can still feel the metamorphosis surrounding me, enveloping me like one of my elegant French silk gowns and it astounds me. Amazes me…to know that mortality is within my reach, something I thought to be an impossible feat. And as I do each day, I ask myself. How is this possible? How can I be changing? Before today, I did not have the answer, but as I sit here reflecting on my old life with Nicolas and my new one with Robert, I now do. At last, I understand. Oddly enough, for the first time in my long, eternal life, I have been able to open myself to real, thrilling love, and not unlike Norse legend, where the summer god Freyr’s sheer warmth of true love melted the frost princess Gerda’s icy heart, Robert’s is somehow transforming mine, warming and calming it like a fragrant balm. It seems impossible to comprehend, but it is true. Finally, I have *allowed* myself to love and to be loved fully and completely by someone… a mortal. It has never happened before. Not even with my sweet Nicolas. Last year…with him…yes, perhaps it would have been possible to love like that, but his heart had turned to another, and centuries ago, would have been too soon for me. I loved him as much as I was capable of loving any man, but I couldn’t handle the depth of his feelings for me, to give myself over to his smothering love. Emotional scars from my mortal past, as a subservient woman held *captive* to my husband, then to a nobleman and lastly, to the brothel keeper, must have carried over to my immortal life, preventing me from loving and trusting him enough. I was scared of losing my freedom even in immortality. Afraid of being kept like a caged bird if I ever succumbed to real love, so I pushed Nicolas away, leaving him. Now I realize it was the wrong thing to do. For...if I had stayed, opening the door to my heart, giving myself completely to him, I would have discovered that true love does not hold us captive. Instead, it gives us freedom to thrive and grow with someone, to flourish together, and suppressing it enslaves us to languish and fade into loneliness, to merely exist for ourselves. At last, understanding this, for a moment I grieve and am saddened that it is too late for us…for Nicolas and myself. That our time has truly passed. But as the light in the room melts into darkness, so do my misgivings dispel into happiness…and I am content in the knowledge that, at the very least, I have been given a second chance to open the door, *freeing* myself to love another. My Robert… Mon seul amour…Mon ame (my one true love…my soul) And once more, as my thoughts drift to LaCroix’ letter and his optimism for Nicolas’ return to us… knowing what I know now about love…real love… a feeling of certainty washes over me that his wish will go unfulfilled. Nicolas won’t be returning… For as my courageous Robert has pulled me towards the pinnacle of hope with his deep abiding love, Natalie will pull my brave crusader back from his abyss of despair with hers. And given the opportunity, her warm blood …her brilliant flame… her unconditional love… will be able to encompass Nicolas’ dark world with brightness, warming his cold heart as Robert has unexpectedly warmed mine. *********************************************** Eight hundred years is a long time to live with a cold heart… Just for yourself. ************************************************** Fin Notes to reader: 1. In spite of Robert’s tragic demise in Human Factor, I wanted to write a story about Janette’s *understanding* of her own eternal struggle to love someone enough. IMO, she never had until she met him. With Nick, her traumatic mortal past hampered her ability to love him that deeply, thus she left him in the 16th century, and in the present, it was too late, as his love, but not his passion for her, had somewhat cooled and besides…some of us would like to believe his heart belonged to another… Natalie. (g) 2. In Norse Mythology, Freyr, the summer god, wooed Gerda; the daughter of the frost giant, Gymir and by the warmth of his love melted her cold heart, and made her his bride. Thus, I thought this legend paralleled Janette’s situation with Robert nicely.