Disclaimer:
You know the drill - I don't own them, though they seem to own me, I fear.
Instead they belong to someone who doesn't really care about them.
This little piece of silliness came to me in a moment of utter boredom.
Permission to archive given. It will also be archived at my site
www.come-undone.net
Rated PG 13 for some sexual innuendo, but there is absolutely nothing
explicit in there.

In Your Dreams, Pal 1/1
by Luc, September 2004

"Mmmm. Humpf."
L. snuggled a little deeper into the comfortable warmth of her bed. But the
annoying feeling of someone poking a finger into her shoulder just wouldn't
go away. That wasn't possible, her subconscious whispered. You live alone
and you went to bed alone last night (she chose to ignore the plaintive sigh
her subconscious added to that).
Slowly she turned and opened her eyes a bit. Squinting, she became aware of
a looming presence above her.
"Aah! You?!"
She shrank back against the wall and clutched the comforter tightly around
her shoulders.
"Yes, me. Time you woke up, sleepyhead. You and I have a bone to pick."
This a nightmare, she groaned inwardly, this is definitely not happening.
When I open my eyes, he will be gone.
But …
"Nope, you're obviously not a nightmare. So what do you want at three in the
morning, for Christ's sake?"
The figure flinched.
"Sorry."
"How can you sleep when the night is as beautiful as this? I will never
understand you mortals."
"Because us mere mortals have to go to work in the morning, you dunce. Now
go away!"
She pulled the comforter over her head and turned away from him. The next
second she found herself on the floor, a pair of blazing red eyes staring
down on her.
"Don't you dare insult me! I could drain you this instant."
"No, you can't."
He looked a little dumbfounded.
"Why not?"
"Because you are a fictional character. You're not real."
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."
The darkly clad man sat down on the bed next to her, somewhat deflated.
L.' s mood began to soften a bit.
"Okay, since I am awake, tell me what's wrong. What 'bone' do we have to
pick? I haven't treated you badly recently. On the contrary, in my last
story I had Nat jump YOUR bones."
A smile played around the pale lips.
"True, and let me tell you that she is really pissed about that. You are NOT
on her A-list of favorite fan-fic writers anymore."
"You actually woke me from one really good dream to tell me that Nat is
mad?!"
They both cringed at the bad rhyme.
"No, I came because of Nicholas."
L. rolled her eyes.
"So what else is new? What's wrong with him this time?"
"Come and see for yourself."
Lacroix took her hand and pulled her out of bed.
"Hey! Where are you taking me?"
He pushed her into her dark study and switched the light on.
"Behold."
She pushed her elbow into his ribs.
"Scratch the dramatics, Lucius, where is he?"
Lacroix pointed his pale finger.
"Under there."
Her eyes followed the out-stretched finger and settled on a hunched figure
huddled underneath her desk.
"Nick?"
The blond man under her simple IKEA desk looked up and with a pleading tone
asked:
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you keep doing this to me?"
"Geez, Nick will get out from under my desk? You will only ruin your nice
silk pjs."
He crawled out on all fours.
"Not that it would matter. Look at me!"
Nick's silk pjs were torn and he looked pitiable.
"What happened?"
"You," the ancient vampire answered as his son rolled himself into a tight
ball on the floor again.
"Me? What has this got to do with me?"
"Don't you remember it was you who made him look like this?"
Slowly it dawned on her why the picture of Nick had looked so familiar.
"Darn! The story."
"Exactly, THE story. The one you started almost two years ago. Nicholas has
been like this since you broke off in the middle of  him sitting on Nat's
examination table looking like this. Do you know what it is like to live
with him when he is in this state?"
"Shouldn't you be used to that by now? But I don't see the problem here.
I've written other things in the meantime and Nick was fine in those."
"Slash pieces don't count," came the muffled reply from the floor, "And in
those Lacroix always has more fun than I."
His whining was getting on her nerves now.
"What do you expect? I am , after all, a Cousin!"
"But you said, you were a Dark Knightie, too." Now he really sounded like a
sullen five-year old.
"The stress being on 'Dark', Nicky boy," she replied coldly. Had she really
been dragged out of bed for this?
"And I usually go out of my way to describe you most favorably."
"Oh yeah, I'll give you that, but, you know, once in a while I'd like get
laid by a woman."
"I HAVE already …"
"Yeah, two stories in almost three years."
She suddenly felt an urge to format her hard drive. Okay, deep breath …
"Hey, there is a lot of hot action in THE story …"
"That one doesn't count. It's not finished yet.  Can't you just write one
nice little NN piece like all the others? Pretty please?"
"In your dreams, pal! Now if you would excuse me gentlemen, real life calls
me back to bed."
She switched the light off and slammed the door shut behind her.

"Damn, that didn't work out." The blond vampire stood up and brushed the
lint off his knees.
"I told you so, Nicholas. She is just not into these shmoozy 'let's get
married and have two kids"- stories."
"Well, it was worth a try."
"So, what do we do now? Scare the living daylights out of another author?"
"Nah, I heard that Aristotle has bought this fantastic bar cum indoor
driving range. Wanna give it a shot?"
"You pay for drinks."
"Deal."

~End~

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