By Ten
Part One
Part Two
RATING: NC-17 SPOILERS: Reading "Baby, on Baby!" first is helpful, but not really necessary
SUMMARy: Jean Claude & Olivia's love story
Pairing: Jean/Olivia, some René
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to the goddess who is Ebony Silvers and other members of the Babyverse Krewe, except for Spike who belongs to the god that is Joss Whedon (all hail and bow low before him), and WB, UPN, Mutant Enemy, and some other people, but not me. Olivia is mine.
CHAPTER 1
November 20, 2019
"You should have told me!" Olivia's voice was broken and filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. "I feel like an idiot! How could you have let me spend this much time with her over all these years and not tell me?" Tears pushed at the corners of her eyes and she turned away from him, not wanting him to see.
"Cher? You over-reacting a bit, yes? How you not see it youself? She built exactly like Baby, has her same skin, she got eyes the color of René's. An old blind woman could see who she is." He had slipped entirely into a heavy Cajun accent. He knew that was her weakness, when he became Cajun boy she would surrender to whatever he wanted, and right now he wanted her to quit being angry about Nina. She recognized why he was doing that immediately, and almost snarled in defiance of it.
"How could I know that, Jean? Yes, she has René's eyes, I thought she was some bastard child conceived before he was killed, but how could I know she was Baby's? He was a vampire!" She was borderline shrill, not like her at all, and Jean Claude could not figure out why she was so upset. "Vampires don't have babies. How was I supposed to know? Your family tree is such a mass of shrubs and brambles I don't know who belongs to whom!"
"Olivia!" She snapped her head back toward him. He rarely used her name anymore, so this did exactly what he had hoped it would, it got her attention. He tried not to see her tears, he tried to remain hard. She was making too big of a deal about this and he wanted her to see it. Still the site of her tears could melt the resolve of any man, vampire or human, and the fact she never used those tears disingenuously only made it that much more difficult.
Her lower lip began to quiver, her voice softening into something more pitiful than angry. "Jean … sometimes I feel so apart from your life it's as if I don't belong in it at all."
"Livie," he approached her calmly putting his hands behind her neck and pulling her head toward his, resting their foreheads together. She was stiff but did not resist. "Cher we been together near 20 years now, do you see anyone else around this long but family? Yes you belong, you are a part of me. I know I've been gone a lot this last year, but …." His words trailed off.
She stared down at the hardwood floor of their beach house, silent tears splashing randomly. "Jean …. since we met, there has been no one in my heart but you, and no one else in my bed without you or René. I am yours and have been since the night we met." She finally looked up at him and kissed him softly before continuing. "But … but I am not first with you, I never have been and I've understood that from the beginning as well. Neither am I second. Or even third."
Jean tried to interrupt her, to correct her, but realized, he honestly couldn't. Olivia had always stayed in the background waiting for him to return to her when he was through with family issues, love issues, other women, and other men. She had been his loyal companion, never asking for more from him than what she had. She had worn her mark proudly, represented the family when needed, kept an eye on things in Mobile when he and René were away, she had even come to NOLA when the family went to England to battle the Council, having the place cleaned up and repairs well under way by the time they returned. She had not only been his lover but anything else he had ever needed. Once she had been granted status as his companion she accepted her role and carried out duties with grace, as in everything she did. He stood there holding her, wondering that he had never made her more than that. She was right. She never came first. She had never complained and never asked for more than he gave her, whether it be his time, his support, or his love. He would have liked to think it was because she was pleased to be a part of the legacy of Spike's family, but he knew it was because she had been in love with him since their first night together, even though she had never said the words to him, just as he had never said them to her. He suddenly regretted that omission. She had no idea how much he loved her simply because he had never told her.
"But Livie …." He tried to interrupt, but she held up a hand, cutting him off.
He pressed his lips to her forehead as she continued. "The family must take priority, I know that. I have always known that, and I have respected that and tried to represent you and them well, and I have tried to be here for you and for René when you needed me. I've put no demands on you, Jean," she looked up at him then, finally meeting his eyes with her own, "not ever."
She was more confident now, able to spill everything to him that she needed to say; it was time, it was past time. And she was right about everything. "When you said come to New Orleans, I came. When you asked me to return to Mobile and care for Aunt Billie and watch over Nina, I did it. I waited here to comfort you when Marie died, just as you asked, because you didn't want things to be awkward with the girls." She cringed a little, "I had to hear you had married René from Cordelia." That was the deepest cut for them both. He hadn't mean for it to happen that way, but he had been so involved with René and his own grief that he hadn't even thought of her. She went on, "I have always been here for you, Jean, here or wherever else you wanted me. Waiting. Waiting for my turn."
This was insufferably difficult for them both, but he knew she was right. She had always been there when he needed her, and stayed out of the way when he didn't. He knew he could depend on her, and he did so regularly, moving far past the casual lover status they first had within a year of their meeting, calling on her for favors and chores that only a full family member should be asked to perform. And she always did it cheerfully and many times invisibly. Jean felt that stab of regret again, regret that he had so taken advantage of her and that he had never given her everything she needed. He didn't want to say anything, this was her time to let it all out and clear the stale air between them, but the silence suddenly hanging heavily between them was stifling and painful.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her, feeling her gather courage to say more. Leading her to the sofa and settling her into his arms, her breath was warm against his chest as her tears began to dampen his shirt. After a few minutes, he broke the silence himself. "Livie …. what is it you need, my sweet girl?" He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. "I know this is going somewhere, and it has little to do with Nina's baby."
She turned her tear-streaked face up toward him, sincerity and pain showing plainly in her eyes. "It's my turn, Jean. Just for a little while, a few weeks, a few months, I don't care, but I need for it to be my turn."
He looked at her with love-filled eyes, yet she pushed away and stood in front of him. "I need to go for a walk. I'm going down the beach for awhile, I just need to get out, and I need for you to think about things while I'm gone." She looked out the ocean side French doors. It was a stunning day, not too hot, perfect weather for beach combing, and she suddenly felt the desire to go. She so seldom walked in the sun anymore, but today the water and sand were calling to her. Jean Claude started to object when she placed her fingertips upon his lips. "No, Jean. I need to go. You need to think about things. I'm not giving you an ultimatum, I am just telling you what I need right now. But know that I love you, and no matter what you decide I will still love you. And I will always be yours." She kissed him urgently, resisting the temptation of his arms, then turned and walked out the door before he could stop her.
Jean poured himself a scotch, went out on the well-covered deck, and watched her as she walked away. He hadn't noticed until that moment how frail she looked. She was thinner than she had been last year before he went to LA. Her skin was almost translucent, so obviously she was spending less and less time in the daylight. Granted she always was a night owl, most club singers were, but the longer she had been with him, the more she kept vampire hours, sleeping during the day, active at night, even if he wasn't around. As she moved further down the beach, he felt a tug of guilt at how much she belonged in that sunlight, how it caught the sheen of her hair as it was tossed about in the breeze, how she walked in the surf, ankle deep, just so she could feel the sand beneath her feet fall away as the waves went back out. He noticed that she looked wonderful in her thin, cotton dress in his favorite shade of blue. She was natural and feminine and wind-swept, and he was suddenly overcome with a desire to wrap her in his arms and hold her there in safety for the rest of forever. But he was held captive by the sun and could only watch her become smaller and smaller as she moved down the beach.
He smiled to himself, "Clever girl. Letting me see what I can't have, but making it impossible for me to go to her, making me want her all the more." He laughed a little. Her strategy had worked. Though Olivia could never be called a manipulator, when she wanted or needed something she went directly to getting it any way she could. And that apparently included him.
He smiled again before going inside to call René and ask if he or Baby needed anything from New Orleans.
He didn't see the tiny figure in the distance collapse on the sand, nor the crowd of people that gathered around her.
As he quickly showered, thoughts of Europe danced in his head. Olivia would like to see Europe, he thought, she had always talked of one day seeing the cathedrals and chateaus of France. By the time his briefcase was packed, the sun was setting and he could be on his way. Part of him wanted to wait for Olivia to return, perhaps take her with him to New Orleans, but he was eager to get things taken care of so he would be free to devote his time to her and her alone.
He scribbled a note and stuck it on the fridge.
Liv,
I've gone to NOLA, be back tomorrow night.
You're right, it's your turn.
I love you,
JC
He stepped back out onto the deck again hoping to catch a glimpse of her returning. She was nowhere in sight. Eager to be on his way, he tossed his bag into the car and headed out completely oblivious to the cry of the ambulance echoing in the opposite direction.
*****************
The phone was ringing when he came through the front door of the house on Rue Royale. Jean greeted his father and briefed him on what his plans were, but before he could settle into business matters, Anne handed him the phone. "It's for you."
Already in Prince mode, Jean answered in his most professional tone. "DuValliere." He listened for a few moments, his expression quickly dropping from the joy of being home to panic and concern. "I'm coming," he said curtly. Without another word, he handed the phone back to Anne, picked his keys, and left.
"René?" Anne queried into the receiver, stunned at how quickly Jean Claude had left. She listened for a moment as well before handing the phone to the now impatient Spike. Anne went to the front door and starred out into the night. The tail lights of Jean Claude's car already long gone.
CHAPTER 2
René sat in the hospital room staring at nothing, the annoying beep of the heart monitor and the persistent drip-drip-drip of the IV beginning to cloy. He felt helpless and useless, and he couldn't bear to look at the frail figure on the bed … but there was no way he would leave her side until Jean arrived.
The doctors had been reticent to talk to him, but after a few words of encouragement and a few downright threats, they had told him simply that she was in amazingly good shape considering she had refused additional treatment, that they were doing all they could, and that he should be grateful she was gotten to the hospital so quickly or they'd have lost her right then. From the obvious pain and weakness she was suffering, René wasn't sure that was a good thing. He shivered at the memory of what Marie's illness and death had done to Jean. He wasn't sure his brother could go through this again without going completely insane.
"René?" Olivia's voice was weak, almost a whisper.
He moved closer and took her hand, looking into her eyes, searching for the young, vibrant woman who used to live in this body. "I'm here, cher."
"Don't tell him, please. He can't … don't tell him. You promised … remember."
"I know, baby, but ... he already know. He comin' back from N'awlins now."
"No … René." She was struggling, visibly uncomfortable with the tubes and monitor cables, making it that much more difficult to speak. "Marie … too soon." She looked confused for a moment, then forced her eyes to focus on René. "New Orleans?"
"Yes, cher. He call me last night, tell me you two goin' away, he was goin' to Papa's to finish some business." He patted her hand reassuringly. "I caught him there, he's comin' back now, he be here in another hour or so." She looked strangely peaceful for a moment. "You rest now."
She was groggy and made little sense, substantial pain meds making it more and more difficult for her to concentrate and communicate. "René … no …" And she drifted back to sleep.
René stood and stretched a little. The room was plush for a hospital room; being the Master of Mobile had its advantages. Springhill Medical Center was an all-private-room facility to begin with, but he had wanted to be sure that Olivia was comfortable and was given as much special treatment as possible. When the ER nurse had contacted him to let him know someone from his household had been brought in, she assured him that Olivia would be given the best treatment and care possible in a quiet, exclusive wing of the facility. René had thanked her, gotten in his car, and headed to the hospital immediately. A valet was waiting to take his car when he arrived. Normally only available during daylight hours, the ER nurse had obviously made arrangements for more than Olivia to be taken care of.
Stepping near the bed again, he leaned over and kissed Liv on the forehead before stepping out into the hall to stretch a bit more. The posh waiting area had coffee and relatively fresh Danish, a selection of teas and juices and a sign that said other selections were available and a courtesy number to dial. He smiled. The hospital had subtle ways of being accommodating. A cheerful attendant approached him.
"Master Beaumont, can I get you anything? Are you hungry, sir?" She was young and sweet, obviously new, and very obviously aware of who he was and what 'being hungry' involved.
"No thank you, sweetheart, perhaps later." He flashed her a dazzling smile that made her blush as she skittered off to the nurse's station. Yes, very accommodating, he thought to himself.
René poured a cup of coffee, more to give him something to do with his hands rather than to actually drink it, and went to the large windows that looked out over Dauphin Street. There was little traffic this time of night and the street was damp from the light rain that was still trying to drizzle down onto the streets. He stared through the glass, thinking, remembering the first time he had met Liv, when Jean had first introduced her to him … after the first time he and Jean had truly made love, after he had first seen Nina again. René's mind tumbled as he stared past the window into the darkness and back to a time many years ago.
February 12, 2003
Jean practically had to drag René from the golden sheets of the bed they had shared. What a time it had been, Jean professing his love for his brother, their intimacy that had transcended anything Jean could have imagined and had taken René by surprise as well … such passion from his brother was something he hadn't anticipated. René had never enjoyed being with men-even in the family bonding he usually stayed with the girls, the vicious ghosts of the past making it too difficult for him to lose himself in the trust and love of even his father. But Jean, he had brought such beauty and love and tenderness to their bed. He opened to him as he had never opened to any other man and accepted the love that Jean offered him. It had been incredible and he had wanted to stay in bed and bask in the glow of it for the rest of the night.
Jean had other plans.
"Come on, lazy, we have places to go and people to meet." He whipped the sheet from his brother's naked form and nudged him off the bed. "Come on, Aunt Billie is waiting, and you know what happens if she's kept waiting." He raised a mischievous eyebrow.
René bounded out of bed. "Why you not say that's where we're going?" He was dressed in a flash and the two men were out the door and on their way to the old plantation house. They were met at the door by Leone, dusting flour from her hands and swishing her skirts just enough to make sure René would notice that red petticoat.
"Ya'll get inside, the bugs'll eat ya up. They's bad this year!" As they went inside the entryway, Jean Claude had vanished while Leone took René into the dining room that was decorated in festive colors, streamers, and balloons. A huge banner hung over the table, "Happy Birthday!" René was just wondering how the old women had gotten it hung up when Aunt Billie burst in, all smiles and hugs for him.
"Cher, you lookin' younger every day," he cooed to her as he hugged her until she could hardly breathe.
"Liar," she said with a grin.
René looked about, "I don't know where Jean got off to, but …"
"Oh, he'll be along," Bille said. "Let's you and me have a seat and let Leone finish the supper and the cake. She's made a dickens of a mess in there and won't let me do a thing!"
Billie sat at the head of the table and René at her right hand as they chatted about things past and things future. About the third time she mentioned Nina, René stopped her.
"All right, Auntie, you keep mentioning Nina. Who is that, cher? Do I know her?"
"You most certainly do." Jean Claude had appeared in the dining room doorway holding a stunningly beautiful child. She was no more than a year old with dark hair, creamy-pale skin, and the most stunning teal eyes René had ever seen. Jean moved closer and handed her to his dumbstruck brother. "René, I'd like you to meet Jeanina Renée Willamina Beaumont."
René's eyes flew open with the realization that this was his daughter, his and Baby's daughter whom Jean has squirreled away for safekeeping, away from the vampire family, away from the crime families, and away from her mother and him. This was where he had placed their precious child.
He looked at Jean, tears streaming down his face, then to Billie who was smiling like a Cheshire cat.
Jean smiled at the old woman. "I think that went rather well, don't you?" They both laughed as René spent the next few minutes just staring at and touching his daughter for the first time since she had left his arms in New Orleans a year ago.
For hours they ate the fine feast Leone had prepared, talked and laughed and ate cake, as they celebrated the birth of René's child. René himself rarely let her out of his arms, playing with her fingers and toes, smelling her hair and trying to capture the memory of her scent to be kept with him always. He whispered sweet things to her in French and English and even climbed onto the rug to play with her under the table while the others finished their coffee.
He had never been so happy.
At her bedtime, it was René who took her up to her room, admiring her room to her in loving words, telling her how pretty it was and what a special girl she was and would be and how much she was loved. He changed her and gathered her into his arms as he settled into the rocking chair in her room and sang softly to her until she fell asleep in his arms. He stayed there, holding his beautiful, sleeping child until Jean came to get him.
Jean stood in the doorway watching them until René looked up at him with loving, appreciative eyes. Then he set the baby in her crib, kissed her lovingly on the forehead and joining Jean in the hallway, where he threw his arms around his brother and quietly cried for a few minutes.
"Merci, m'frère …. merci pour toute … merci … merci … " René's voice trailed off as he began to gather himself back together, his brother's arms tightly around him, loving him and holding him.
When they went back downstairs, they said their goodbyes and thank you's to the two women, embraced them and headed out to the car.
Jean checked his watch as they pulled out of the driveway. "We're just in time," he half-said to himself.
"Where to now? I don't see how you can top that." René was beaming. To finally find his daughter after a year of suffering, not knowing, not being with her, it was almost more than he could bear. He had trusted Jean implicitly when he had entrusted her to him, but he had no idea Jean would find such a perfect place for her. She was safe with a good family, safely away from the bad, and safely away from the constant threat she would be under in a household of vampires. And she was nearby, where he could see her and visit her without putting her in danger or giving away who she was. Aunt Billie had told the family she had adopted Nina from up north, a young girl from her side of the family who had "gotten in trouble." Billie had always wanted a child, but had never married. She had gladly taken the child and was raising her in a proper Southern home filled with love, doting relatives, and a particularly doting uncle from New Orleans.
As they drove toward the coast Jean had chatted about nothing important while René was lost in his thoughts. They pulled into the parking area of the Pink Pony and climbed out of the sports car. They both paused just outside the door, letting the ocean breeze brush against their skin, clean and cool and tasting of salt. There was something about being this close to the water that made them both feel like they were home.
Olivia Fairchild was just starting her final set when they entered the club. Jean parked René at a conspicuously empty table near the stage while he got them drinks. The voluptuous blonde at the piano was crooning a particularly bluesy number, her fingers dancing along the keyboard as if by magic. René was taken with her immediately, the deep brown of her eyes catching his attention almost immediately, not to mention the dangerously low cut of her blouse. There was no doubt that those were real. Olivia caught him looking and smiled as she hummed the last ornamental notes of the piece. Jean set down his and René's drinks on the table before going to the singer and kissing her lightly as he set a drink for her on the coaster at the edge of the grand piano. Their familiarity was evident, and the smile that followed was only for him. René felt an unexpected jolt of jealousy and knew immediately why Jean had brought him here.
When Jean settled into the seat across from René, he turned his chair slightly so he could watch the chanteuse as she belted through an old Billie Holiday tune. René smirked at him. "So, it's the shrimp baskets, huh?"
"Hey, they have top notch shrimp baskets here, frère. We got some comin' in a few minutes."
"Right." René was almost laughing. He had noticed Jean made more frequent trips to Mobile than he used to. After seeing Nina, he assumed that was the reason … now he could see that Jean's little niece was not the only attraction to Alabama.
Olivia caught and held Jean's eyes more than once, taunting and teasing him with her expressions and smoldering eyes as her voice wrapped around his heart. It was poetry to watch. Jean was giving her back as much as she was giving. René had seldom seen Jean make this much effort for any woman. He usually didn't have to. But this was obviously their routine … Jean coming in late, bringing her a drink, her singing only for him, and then the rest of the night spent, and probably most of the next day, with a 'do not disturb' sign on the door. René was pleased. Jean had chosen well, an artistic type with already established late night hours and a voice that could seduce the strongest of them. As she started her final song, the crowd in the room seemed to melt away and there was only Jean, as she made love to him in music. (song link)
Pride can stand a thousand trials
As she finished the last notes, Jean joined her at the piano and pulled her into his arms, kissing her in a way René had never seen him kiss anyone in public. Olivia gave herself over to him from the moment he touched her, her hands slipping beneath his shirt and snaking their way up his back, as the admiring audience continued their applause. Jean's hands traveled down her back and over her shapely bottom, lifting her slightly so that she wrapped her legs around his waist. Before the room could even grow quiet, they were out the door.
René stared after them, half-laughing, half-annoyed he'd been tossed aside. As he finished his drink, the bartender, a girl barely 21 herself, handed him Jean's car keys. "Jean said for you to enjoy your drink and he'd see you at the hotel."
René gave her one of his famous smiles. "Well, cher, it seems my brother has abandoned me. Care to join me?" The famous Beaumont charm was never wasted on anyone, particularly not a pretty little thing like this.
"Jean also told me I was not, under any circumstances, to leave with you." She smiled back at him, resisting the temptation to laugh. "Said he'd pay my spring tuition if I could resist." She beamed. "Tough choice, but he'd never let me live it down." René had done exactly what Jean said he would. "He's driving Liv's car to the hotel, they'll see you there for a late supper." She handed him a bag. "The shrimp baskets. Hope ya'll come by again next time you're in Mobile." Her invitation was obvious … apparently Jean told her she didn't have to resist more than once.
René gathered the bag and keys, graced the girl with another smile and a warm "Good night," and was off into the night.
When he arrived at the hotel, René fully expected to find another room key and a note taped to the door. He found neither, so he slipped the room card into the slot and entered. The room was bathed in candlelight, and Jean was lighting still more. Olivia was nowhere to be seen.
"Liv's in the shower, frère. That the shrimp baskets?"
René had forgotten he was still holding them and held them awkwardly out to Jean.
"Bon. She's always famished after a show." Jean set them on the table and poured three glasses of wine. "She'll be out in a minute, post-show shower followed by the post-show feeding frenzy."
"So." René picked up a glass of wine as he settled into a chair, "when did you meet her?"
Jean was bursting to tell him everything, he was so obviously tickled that the two of them were finally meeting. "I met her last year when I brought Nina out. I was feeling kinda low dropping off the kidlet and it was too late to drive back, so I stopped into the Pony for a drink. We … kinda …. hit it off."
René chuckled. "To say the least."
Jean beamed and grabbed his own glass of wine, settling onto the king-sized bed. "She is rather extraordinary, don't you think?" His smile was contagious, and René couldn't resist teasing him.
"Oh, she seems okay." René hid his smile as Jean's expression fell, "If you like the gorgeous, voluptuous, talented, blonde type." Jean laughed. He was so obviously taken with Olivia that anything René said sent threads of delight through him.
Jean knew very well that René had not only noticed Liv at the club, he was already planning her seduction when he had seen his brother approach her affectionately first. He also knew, before even asking him, that René was going to be very much up for what Jean wanted to give her tonight.
"Frère," he started with a sparkle in his eye, "Liv is important to me, tu compreds, n'est-ce pas?" René nodded, his teal eyes flashing in anticipation. Jean really didn't have to ask--just that much was enough to tip René off as to what Jean had in mind, and he was very much interested. He'd seen that delicious décolletage at the club and he could still feel a hint of the taste of his brother in his mouth. The thought of being with both of them was very inviting indeed. He smiled at Jean and nodded before he said anymore.
Jean's smile broadened. "We show her the sons of William the Bloody know how to appreciate a woman, no?" He reached his wine glass out toward René's, the crystal making a musical clinking sound just as the bathroom door opened.
Olivia moved across the room with a smooth grace René hadn't expected. Her hair was wet, her face scrubbed clean of stage makeup, and she was wearing only Jean Claude's silk bathrobe, revealing every curve of her figure beneath the clingy fabric. She seemed oblivious to it as she slid onto the bed next to Jean and kissed him deeply.
"Mmmmmmm, feel better, cher?" Jean mumbled into her mouth as they reluctantly broke the kiss. She nodded and nuzzled her head into his shoulder just as she noticed the food on the table.
"Oooo," she smiled at him. "Food?" A hopeful smile spread across her face as she sat up quickly and reached toward the table.
Jean laughed. "Yes, Liv, darlin', I knew you'd be famished after the show. I had René bring some back with him. Shrimp okay?"
"The paper it's wrapped in is okay! I'm famished!" She sat up on her knees and reached into one of the bags René held out, her hand emerging with an enormous shrimp vanishing into her mouth almost instantly.
"Wine, cher?" René was playing host while Jean arranged some pillows up by the headboard and got comfortable as she snarfed down the third shrimp.
"She will," Jean interceded for her while Olivia nodded enthusiastically. Jean took the basket out of the bag and set it next to him then pulled her back between his legs and into his arms.
René handed her the glass of wine then gave Jean an odd look while she nodded in thanks and took a deep drink.
Jean laughed a little. "It's the post-singing feeding frenzy. Just stand back and you'll be safe." Both men laughed and Olivia joined them, almost passing wine through her nose in the process. Jean looked down at her affectionately. "Tarter sauce? Cocktail sauce? Ketchup?"
She shook her head, then nodded twice as she swallowed down all but the tail of her current delight. "Yes, please," she said around the mouthful. Jean nibbled on her neck a little as he pulled some ketchup and cocktail sauce from the bag with one hand, ripped them open with his flat teeth and looked for a place to squeeze them out. With a mischievous grin at René, he used his other hand to open the top of her robe just a little, exposing her upper chest and the top half of her bosom. Olivia protested. "Jean ….. what are …."
"Shhhhhhh," Jean whispered to her. "Trust me." She giggled and glanced up at René, unable to keep herself from blushing a little in embarrassment. Jean took the cocktail sauce in one hand the ketchup in the other and drew out red puddles across the tops of her breasts. She wriggled a little from the cold as she licked the sticky fried shrimp residue from her fingers.
"Wait a minute, waaaaaaait a minute," Jean said playfully, "that's my job." And he took her fingers into his mouth one at a time, licking and sucking them until any trace of grease or batter was gone. Olivia rewarded him by sliding her lips over his the moment he finished the last digit.
Still graced with cocktail sauce she looked at him expectantly. With a lustful grin, Jean grabbed a handful of French fries, gave some to René, and slathered one with ketchup from her right breast before feeding it to her. René just watched and munched on the fries himself.
Olivia moaned her approval. "Mmmm, good fries." Jean took the next one and drew a ketchup picture on her skin before putting one end of the fry into her mouth and the other into his … they raced to the middle until their lips were a merged mess of fried potato, ketchup and happy sighs.
René suddenly felt conspicuously unneeded until Jean caught his eye and winked at him, his lips still enjoying the taste of the woman in his arms. With a quick glance at the cocktail sauce, René settled onto the bed next to them and grabbed the last lonely shrimp from the basket, catching Liv by surprise as he swirled it around her skin and offered it to her.
She looked at Jean questioningly before snapping it up, gratitude and contentment glimmering in her eyes … this time for René. He found it stirred him more than he thought it would.
A whirl of fries, ketchup, kisses, and wine ensued until all the food was gone. "Time to do the dishes," Jean piped up and stuffed the empty basket, unused napkins, and trash bits into the bag, tossing it to René with one hand, who in turn shot it basketball-style across the room for two points. Jean raised an eyebrow at him: "Don't forget to clean off the table." The smile on René's face could have lit the room as he crawled atop Olivia, straddling over her and licked the leftover cocktail sauce from her chest. She looked at Jean over her shoulder curiously, her mouth open a little in surprise as he whispered, cooed, and kissed her ear. "Shhhhhh, cher, it's okay."
"But Jean …" she whispered.
"Shhhh, love, let me share my brother's love with you tonight. Let us show you how our love can make you feel, and let's you and I share ourselves with him. Will you do that for me, m'petite?" He kissed her neck, "My love?" He licked around the edge of her ear.
A moaning sigh of pleasure seemed to resonate through her as she whispered back to him, "Yessss, Jean, yes."
"Lovely, cher." He spoke quietly just to her, the warmth of her body warming him, his excitement already evident. René was still obediently "cleaning the table," though the last traces of ketchup were gone. "Doesn't René have lovely hair? See how it shines in the candlelight? Touch it, cher, let your fingers curl around and slide through it."
As he spoke, she did, all the while leaning back into Jean's chest, her left hand in René's hair, the other at her shoulder stroking Jean's cheek. René's cool, wet tongue sent little shivers through her as he began to dip lower and into the valley between her breasts. Jean's hands slipped around her waist, beneath René, who was hovering over her body waiting to be invited closer. He easily untied the silk robe and let it fall open to reveal her naked form, still rosey and flushed from the warm shower.
Olivia closed her eyes, dreamily lost in the attentions both brothers were giving her generously. Jean unbuttoned his own shirt, peeling it back to feel the soft silk of his robe against his skin. Another moment found his belt undone and his trousers unfastened, Olivia happily pressing into him to feel his hardness press further into her back. She leaned down to kiss the top of René's head, breathing his scent and capturing it for her internal memory book. Something about him sent a jolt of desire through her and she found herself pulling René's shirt out and up over his head, then dropping it carelessly onto the bed. With curled fingers she rubbed her nails into his back, wondering if he liked that as much as Jean did. His reaction reassured her as he moaned softly and writhed beneath her touch.
Suddenly there was too much space between them and Liv pulled him down onto her, the cool weight of his body sending another wave of desire through her. He crawled up her bare flesh and began to kiss and lick her throat as Jean continued his attention to the side of her neck, his murmured words of love and seduction working their magic on all three of them.
Jean reached a gentle hand to René's shoulder, tracing a silent message to him so that René found Olivia's lips, embraced her and pulled her back with him enough that Jean could remove the dressing gown and his trousers completely. She moaned in approval as René settled her back into Jean's arms, their lips never parting in the process.
He loved how she tasted of wine, food, and desire, and from her unwillingness to release his lips, she apparently enjoyed him as well. Jean wrapped his legs around them both, his toes tugging urgently at the waistband of René's jeans. René raised a little and Olivia's hands found their way to the front of his 501's. Her limber fingers had him unfastened in seconds, Jean's feet freed him, pushing the jeans down around René's knees, where he kicked them off the rest of the way, his lips still firmly and urgently exploring Olivia's mouth.
The three of them became a study of gentle caresses and kisses with hands and fingertips touching the tender, erotic areas of each of their bodies. Olivia could not tell whose hands were whose and by this time didn't care, having already given herself over to René almost as much as she had given herself to Jean in the last year. The brothers were very much alike in how they touched and kissed her; their tastes and scents were slightly different but both were a powerful aphrodisiac to her, as if she were always meant to be with them both.
She kissed her way down René's throat and chest, nipping and sucking and licking his flesh as Jean's lips sought and found René's. The trio lingered there for a few minutes before Olivia turned over between them, sliding down even further and taking Jean into her mouth, causing him to moan loudly into René's kiss. René straddled both Olivia and Jean, moving up closer to Jean's lips, giving Liv room to work between his legs. Moments later Jean was very close to losing it completely and urged René from his lips and Olivia from his excruciatingly hard length, gasping and panting in an effort to calm down. Having the two of them focus so much on him was more than he could stand and still maintain control. He urged them toward one another while he calmed down a little.
René and Liv obliged, finding joy and pleasure in each other alone for a few minutes while Jean watched. René's hands quickly found her most sensitive spots and exploited them, pinching and teasing her nipples as his mouth once again plundered hers. Olivia lay on the bed next to Jean, her legs straddling one of René's, her sex pressing against his muscular thigh as she floated on a plush carpet of ecstasy. She came before he even approached the sensitive center of her pleasure, her first gasping cry bringing Jean off his back and onto his side where he could touch and fondle her himself as she sank back down into the bed again, still aroused but floating down the first wave of passion.
Wordlessly Jean's fingers worked their familiar magic, with René observing closely exactly what his brother had already learned about her body so that he could bring her even more pleasure. Jean's hungry mouth found her nipple, sucking and licking it before he began biting and nibbling it lightly with flat teeth. René gave the other nipple the same treatment even as he settled himself between her legs, bringing himself closer to exploring her depths. Olivia arched into them, her head thrown back as cries of pleasure escaped her lips and another crash of orgasm engulfed her. As she reached her peak, René released her nipple and entered her fully, sending her into another, even higher explosion. Each stroke he made into her seemingly pushed her over a never-ending series of cliffs as he built toward his own climax.
Jean remained relentless in his affection to her nipple, sliding his hand over to the other when René abandoned it, knowing this pleasure center would keep her riding the waves of passion over and over as his brother continued to fill her. He felt her hand search for him, slipping down his stomach, fingertips dancing over his flesh and eagerly finding and squeezing him hard. As he gasped, she released her grip, her palm rotating gently around the soft, velvety head. As one body, the three of them began to move together, Liv climaxing three more times before the brothers finally came with her, both of them turning to their demon faces as they howled their release, Jean's fangs penetrating Olivia's right breast and bringing her even harder as he suckled from her.
When they were spent, the three remained entangled and sated and exhausted. Loving hands still stroked and caressed whatever was near them until they sank into a quiet, warm slumber.
Remembering that first time with her caused his unbeating heart to squeeze in stifled pain. Since that first meeting, the three of them had loved and made love for almost 20 years off and on. She had come to his bed alone many times when she needed Jean and he was not there, or when René himself needed her. The loneliness of their lives was somehow eerily tandem, though his loneliness was by choice and hers was not. She was more than a lover, she was a friend, a companion, a helpmate, a business assistant; anything that he had needed from her she had provided without question, for him, for Nina, for the family, and for Jean.
These last months René had tried to help her as much as he could; he had seen to it that she had the best medical care, that she was cared for when she refused to stay at his home, and he personally took care of her when she stayed with him. She had stepped in to fill Cordelia's shoes when she left to drag Angel back to LA, even though she was sick. It had been difficult for her to hide it from Jean then, and she and René had had more than one argument about her keeping it from him. As he took stock of the time they had spent together, the times they had been lovers, the times they had cried to one another, he finally realized just how much she had meant to him over the years. To Jean, he knew she meant even more.
René stared beyond the glass window of the hospital, suddenly wondering why it was that Jean never claimed her as his own, never took her as his consort. They were certainly together long enough and there was no doubt how much they loved each other.
His thoughts drifted to Marie and how devoted Jean had been to her, how he truly denied himself to fully love anyone else while she was alive. It was the main reason, René had always suspected, that Jean had a seemingly never-ending string of one-night stands and short-term affairs. And still, Liv was always there when he came back. René's hand wandered mindlessly toward the consort mark on his chest, and he suddenly realized the reason Jean never claimed her was not just because of Marie.
CHAPTER 3 - ALLEGRO
As René entered Olivia's room, he saw Jean standing there, his back to the door, his shoulders slumped over. He didn't move, he didn't even notice René come in.
"Jean?" His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, not wanting to intrude too suddenly on Jean's thoughts. His brother turned toward his voice, streams of tears leaving their stain on his face and his shirt. Neither one of them knew how long he had stood there alone, but the moment their eyes met, Jean crumbled. René caught him, holding him to his chest, stroking his hair and murmuring softly to him that everything would be all right. He moved Jean to the chair near the window where he had been sitting before. As Jean sat, René kneeled on the floor next to him, not wanting to turn loose of his brother for fear he would collapse again.
After some long, silent minutes, Jean finally found the strength to speak. Pain-filled eyes searched René's face for answers to his unasked questions. "I … I know these machines, René. What happened? I … I don't understand. How long has she been sick?"
René didn't know how much to tell him, how much to explain. There was so much pain behind those deep brown eyes, pain not only for Olivia, but also for everyone he had ever lost.
"I'm not sure, Jean. About a year, I think. She didn't want you to know." He paused for a moment. "What I don't understand is how you didn't notice."
Jean looked down at him, pain and a search for understanding written in the now deep lines on his face.
"Jean … you didn't notice how frail she looks? How much weight she's lost? How pale … " He stopped mid-sentence. This wasn't helping.
Jean shook his head, unable to form the words, as he looked over at the woman, his lover of almost two decades, unconscious on the starched, white hospital sheets. How could he not have noticed? He had thought she looked pale yesterday when they quarreled but he was so used to everyone being pale it hadn't occurred to him that there might be something wrong. He swallowed hard. "W… what is it?"
René looked at her, too. "Ovarian cancer. Hard to detect in time to give good treatment."
Jean looked back at him expectantly, wanting to know more and unable to ask. René met his eyes.
"She had a hysterectomy last fall while you were in Sunnydale with Spike. Chemo and radiation had little to no effect and made her so sick she stopped them. She said she didn't want to live like that." He tried to smile a little. "Before she went into surgery she said she might as well have the plumbing yanked, she didn't figure on having any children since all her lovers were vampires." René felt the momentary peace of how well she accepted it all, then turned to his brother again, placing his hand upon Jean's knee. "She made me promise not to tell you." He placed his head in Jean's lap, looking soulfully at Olivia. "She thought she had more time … so did I."
She started to stir, "René …." René was at her side in a shot.
"I'm here, cher … and … " he glanced at his brother, still sitting motionless in the chair, "… and Jean is here for you, Liv. He's here now."
A sorrowful moan came from her, an almost inhuman sound of agony. "No … René … you promised …" She started to cry.
Jean couldn't take it. He couldn't look at her, he couldn't hear that pitiful sound that used to be her voice. He ran from the room and down the hall unable to cope with what was happening … again. He couldn't bear that Olivia didn't want him there. How much must she hate him to not want him there? "It's too late." His voice broke. Unchecked tears flowed from his eyes as he collapsed to his knees. "What have I done?" He turned his eyes toward the heavens searching for his answer, only then realizing that he was kneeling in the chapel gazing up at the face of God.
René remained by Olivia's side. Nothing, not even Jean, could make him leave right now. Liv needed him, he would stay until she fell asleep again. He pulled the chair closer, holding her hand, murmuring soothingly to her. "He's gone now, cher, he didn't see. He didn't see. I promise."
She began to calm down enough that the nurse who had come running slowed to a walk when she entered the room. "Is she okay?" the woman asked?
"She's better now. She … she was just upset." René flinched a little. "Is … is there anything we can do for her? To make it easier? Or take away the pain? Or … anything?" Desperation laced his quiet words. He couldn't stand the thought of her being in pain.
"Her doctor will be by after sunup. I know that's inconvenient, but I can arrange for him to call you personally when he comes in …."
Before she could finish, René was interrupting. "I won't be leaving."
"Oh," she was taken aback. "Um, but I thought …"
"We will need to keep the shades and draperies pulled on this side of the building. Is that a problem?" He was suddenly all business. He refused to leave her side because of something as insignificant as the sun.
"Uh, no sir, not at all. I'll arrange for it to be done well before sunrise." She was nervous but efficient. He put that task squarely into her hands. "Did you see where my brother went?"
"Yes, sir, he was headed for the chapel."
René smiled, "Yes, that is where he would go now." He gave the nurse a thank you nod.
"And sir …" she was hesitant, but compassionate, "I'm very sorry about …" she indicated Olivia, once again asleep and peaceful. It was a telling remark from a nurse. Obviously they didn't expect her to last very long.
René found Jean slumped over the kneeling rail of the chapel. He wrapped his older brother in his arms and held him closely, Jean's body still twitching from stifled sobs. René stroked his hair and whispered sweet words of love and support until he could calm down enough to talk.
Jean turned tear-filled, but appreciative eyes up to René. "I should have known. How could I not have known, René?" He swallowed. "I've ruined everything. She's going to die and she hates me for what I didn't give her, for holding back, for not giving her the love she needed."
René gathered his brother into his arms and held him again, rocking slowly in comfort and love. When Jean had quieted and calmed a little more, René took his face into his hands. "M'frère doux, she not hate you. She couldn't hate you. She love you all these years. I think she love you before she met you. Nothing in this world could stop her kind of love. Not even death."
Jean looked into the teal eyes he loved so much, searching for hope and for more answers. "Then ... René, why doesn't she want me there, why does she send me away from her bed now when I only want to love her and make her not hurt so much. When I only want to tell her how much I love her and how much she means to me. I've never told her, René, I've never told her!"
"Shhhhhhhhh, Jean, no, petite. It's not because she doesn't love you that she made me promise, it's because she does love you." He could see the confusion written deeply along side Jean's pain. "She … she couldn't bear the thought of you having to go through this again, she knew what watching Marie waste away did to you. She didn't want you to watch her die. She so afraid you will hurt more to see her go like this."
"She wha ….." Jean's eyes flew open. "No! René, no! No! I want to be with her. This isn't Marie, this isn't a woman I loved long ago who married someone else and who had written me out of her life. This is the woman I love NOW, the one I'll hold in my heart for as long as she'll let me. It's not right. I have to be there with her, holding her. Loving her!" Jean was already on his feet, grabbing René by the arm and trying to drag him back to Olivia's room.
René didn't move fast enough and Jean shot out of the chapel at a dead run down the hall, hitting the doorway to Liv's room the moment the sun rose shooting glorious rainbows of color through her window and flooding it with sunlight. Jean stopped just outside, desperate to get inside, ready to crawl on his hands and knees to get to her if that's what it took for him to be there with her. He dropped to the floor and tried to make his way as safely as possible across randomly appearing patches of sun and glare on the cold linoleum floor.
Before he got too far, René arrived, signaling the attendant frantically. She came scurrying over, flailing her arms in panic. She had gotten every window, every blind and drape on her floor …. EXCEPT Olivia's room! She had waited until René left and then gotten busy with her duties and didn't seal the windows. She was apologizing profusely while she closed the room down so that it was safe for both of them, finishing just in time for Jean to reach the bed and crawl up into it with Olivia, slipping beneath her frail, wasted form and wrapping her in his arms, holding her to him as tightly as he could and still keep her connected to the medical equipment she needed.
René rushed the woman out to leave them alone, closing the door behind him.
Olivia stirred in Jean's arms, her eyes fluttering open as she struggled to consciousness. "Jean? No … no … don't … you're not …"
He pressed his lips to hers, cutting her off. She had the strength to resist many things in her life, but even at the peak of good health, she could never resist a kiss from Jean Claude DuValliere. Tears began to fall from her eyes as he poured all the love he had into that kiss, as if by doing so he would bring her back to life and health just from what he gave her lips. She moved closer to him, wanting to feel as much of his body against her as possible. Just having him here gave her strength she didn't know she had. She buried her face in his chest as his arms tightened around her even more. "Jean … my Jean … for now mine."
"Yes, my love …. shhhhhh, rest, I'm here."
"Stay."
"Yes Livie, my love, I'll stay. I'll stay and hold you as long as you want me to. There is nowhere I want to be but here with you."
" … love … you …"
"I know, baby, and I love you, and I'm sorry I've never told you how much. I don't want to lose you, m'coeur. Stay with me." He murmured into her hair, feeling her hot breath on his chest, slowing, but still strong and even.
"Jean …."
"Shhh, yes, I'm here." He squeezed her gently.
"Let … let me die in your arms ..."
Her breathing slowed even more, but did not stop. Her heartbeat felt strong and even against his chest. He relaxed a little, it wasn't too late. He thought about what he had almost lost and fear gripped his throat. He was not going to let this happen. Tonight, after she'd slept some and was feeling stronger, tonight he would turn her. Tonight he would let her die in his arms as she tasted his blood for the first time and he took hers into his own body to give her a new life … with him. The decision made, he drifted off on a carpet of warm memories and sweet dreams.
February 14, 2003
Olivia sat on the balcony sipping her coffee and appreciating the late afternoon warmth of the courtyard. It was stunning and lush and she loved when Jean stayed here. The staff all recognized her and treated her well and they never hesitated if she made a special request. She'd been up for hours, showered, and had coffee, a light lunch, and the paper brought up to the room. Her feet were propped up on the table, Jean's silk robe falling away from her legs so she could get a little sun on them.
Jean was still lazing in bed, in and out of sleep, finally waking completely and just watching her outside in the sunlight. She looked stunning, a golden sheen in her just washed hair, all scrubbed and fresh and without any make up or fashions to hide her natural beauty. He loved to just watch her out there. His body enjoyed watching her as well.
René had apparently moved into the adjoining room. His things were gone and Jean could see that the connecting door was slightly ajar. No matter how enjoyable the previous night had been, he appreciated the privacy now. He wanted some alone time with Liv, and he particularly wanted to find out how she was holding up after her first experience with the Brothers Roxton the night before. And what a night it had been. When he looked up she was smiling at him.
"Ah, you're awake. Coffee?" She was already getting up, gathering her cup and the paper and moving inside. She shut the draperies, just to be safe, and got him a cup before he could even answer. She settled on the bed next to him as he sat up and maneuvered the pillows behind him.
After a lingering kiss, she handed him his coffee and scooted in closer to him. He could feel she wanted to talk about something but was hesitant. She just had that slightly tense feel to her, that she wasn't sure if she should say it or not. He kissed the top of her head and that was all the encouragement she needed. He guessed she would want to talk about last night. He was wrong.
She sipped her coffee and tried to be casual. "So … does he know?"
Jean looked confused. "Who?"
"René."
"Huh?"
"Does he know you're in love with him?"
Jean looked at her with new eyes. He had no idea she was this intuitive. As much time as they had spent together, he felt he knew her better than any woman he'd ever been with. He hadn't really admitted it to himself, but he had pretty much stopped seeing anyone else. Oh, he was still very much a participant in the family sexual games and bonding, but he had withdrawn from other women without really realizing it. Olivia was safe to him. She was human, she was warm, and she offered all the comforts of a wife without any of the demands. She was always happy to see him and spend time with him, even if it was just a quick one night of intimacy before he had to leave town again. She seemed just as pleased with the arrangement as he was. If he was in Mobile, he was either working or with her. Sometimes he went to Mobile just to see her. But in all that time he hadn't realized how much she knew and observed about him.
He turned her face toward him, looking deeply into her eyes. "What are you talking about?"
She smiled back at him affectionately. "Jean … you don't know? You don't feel it?" She laughed a little and sipped her coffee again. "Men can be so thick sometimes."
He nibbled her neck, a lame attempt to distract her from the subject. "You didn't seem to mind us 'thick men' last night."
She giggled and wriggled before turning back toward him again. "It's okay. It doesn't bother me. I've known all along someone else held your heart. I'd always thought it was Marie. I didn't realize it was René until last night. The two of you together … " she sighed wistfully, "… are exquisite. Not just to me, but to each other." She sipped her coffee again. "You really didn't know?"
Jean stammered like a teenager. "I … I …" Her warm brown eyes melted his reserve. "I didn't think it showed."
"Oh my sweet Jean," she kissed him soundly. "You wear your heart on the outside of your clothes. I doubt there is anyone close to you who doesn't know. It's nice that they're so respectful of your privacy." She set her cup down on the table, then took his as well before she straddled him over the sheets, sitting up across his hips and looking down at him suggestively.
"But since he's not here right now and I am ….." A sly grin spread across her lips as she slowly untied the robe and pushed it off her shoulders to reveal she were nothing beneath it.
Jean captured her mouth, both of his hands helping themselves to her breasts. A crashing wave of desire washed over them both, and he remembered why he came to Mobile so often.
March 14, 2004
Jean found himself on the road to Mobile once again. Before he left home, he called in a few favors … a flat in the French Quarter, a part time jazz gig at a popular night spot, a few neutral furnishings, a 9' grand piano in the middle of the main room, and a red 1965 Mustang convertible. She'd always wanted one, now seemed a good time. He knew she'd object and say it was all too much, and he knew he'd distract her with kisses and caresses and that would be the end of those objections.
He wondered that it had taken him so long to realize he wanted her close by, though he suspected the final trigger had been the events of the night before. The family hunt had been exhilarating, but the true masterpiece of the night had been Wesley & Drusilla joining in the post hunt sexual activities. The two of them fit perfectly, more than perfectly, with the family and they had all gloried in slathering affection and love on the somewhat transient couple. Their combined skills in both the hunt and the family bonding ritual afterwards were welcomed, and he hoped they would return to New Orleans often.
However, one of the consequences of the heat and intimacy of having two humans in their midst was that it made Jean realize just how much he missed Liv. Every time he touched Wesley or Baby that night a tiny part of him had thought of her and wanted to reach for her, too. Only she wasn't there. She was still in Mobile, entirely too far away. He'd made up his mind when he collapsed into sleep that he wanted her with him, he wanted her to have more of a presence in his life, perhaps even introduce her to the family.
René had adored her. In the last year he had asked about her frequently and tried to tag along on business trips more than once. Jean had brushed him off most of the time. It was a rushed trip and he hardly got to do more than give her a kiss hello and goodbye. However, René had a great deal of idle time and apparently they didn't waste it, as the next time Jean and Olivia were together he had noticed she had picked up a few tricks which were distinctly René's. An odd kind of jealousy had taken him over. He had never really figured out if he was jealous of René for being with Liv or of Liv for being with René, but whichever it was, he didn't take René with him again for a long time. René had noticed and grumbled.
Olivia was just finishing her first set when Jean strode into the club, all jeans and casual shirt and boots, instead of his usual stylish suit. Liv had nearly blinded him with her smile, a small reward for such a great surprise. She hadn't been expecting him. She begged off the rest of the night and they had spent the next six hours naked in and around the beach house.
Over the last year Jean had been quite generous to her, as he seemed to be with everyone. Not one to squander money and feeling odd about any way he "helped" her financially, she had taken every dime and sunk it into a down payment on a cozy little place on the beach. She had stocked it with comfortable furnishings, an extra fridge for blood, and plantation shutters. Jean had been both impressed and charmed by it. Each time he was there it seemed to have another little feature that he loved, as if she were adding to a collection of "Things Jean Likes." It was their place. She lived in it full time, but she felt him in everything about it.
Their last round of intimacy had been near the water, both of them collapsing in exhaustion. Jean woke up with that ticklish pre-dawn feeling and they had run into the house, showered the sand off and then cozied up in the bed just talking and sharing what had happened since they had last seen each other.
His arms wrapped around her tightly, her head resting on his chest. He felt every bit as at home as he did in New Orleans. It all just felt so right.
"Liv?"
"Mmm-huh?" she replied dreamily.
"How would you feel about moving to New Orleans?"
November 20, 2018
René looked into the small window of her hospital room door to see them both sleeping. The steady beat of the heart monitor was reassuring, but he did not look forward to his next conversation with Jean. He could tell what his brother was thinking, what he planned. He could feel how he had hope for the future, and René knew why he felt that way. But he had to tell him, he had to give him the bad news, relay her wishes, and Jean wasn't going to like it.
René was going to have to tell him that Olivia did not want to be turned, that she had flatly refused the half a dozen times he and Baby had tried to talk her into it when her pain was so great she could scarcely breathe. She was determined that she did not want to risk becoming what she might become. She did not want to be a cold, dead thing that no longer warmed him. She did not want to risk becoming a soulless monster that killed and fed on innocents. She did not want to risk losing her place in heaven if she could not control the demon within. If she could be assured that she would be like Jean and René and the others, she would have done it joyfully, but she had heard the stories about those who didn't make it, of the torment they caused and their eventual destruction and descent into Hell. René was honest with her and told her that there were no guarantees. Without a guarantee, she would not agree to it.
And it was going to shatter Jean's heart to let her go.
CHAPTER 4 - LARGO
Jean had been quiet since returning from LA and Spike's resurrection. No matter what else happened in the past or future, no one could ever say that Baby didn't love Spike. What she went through with Angel alone was enough to kill most human women. According to vampire custom he had to claim her to legitimize the children and her claim to Spike's city. Angel did what was required, but it had been difficult for Jean to watch Baby be so brutalized and then marked by Angel. Jean didn't think he'd ever seen a stronger human being in his life or unlife. But she didn't stop there. She wanted her husband back, so she had plotted the destruction of Wolfram & Hart, as well as the resurrection of Spike. Then she had the forethought and determination to present him with the Gem of Amarra, which rendered him invulnerable to sunlight, stakes and holy water. It was all a complicated masterpiece of strategy and persistence that no one could have even attempted, much less pulled off. Baby had proven herself much more than a worthy consort to Spike, she had established the two of them as legends in vampire lore.
Olivia noticed Jean had been withdrawn and allowed him space. In the last two and a half years in New Orleans she had learned when to approach him and when not to. This was a "not to" time. He obviously needed to work through whatever it was that was haunting him after the trip west. He said very little, but he was quite content to sit quietly with her, wrapped up on her arms and listen to music, watch a movie, or just sit together and read. Sometimes he asked her to play and sing for him, usually something quiet and melancholy. He'd come sit on the bench with her or stretch out on the sofa and just listen. His lovemaking had changed as well. Where he used to be creative and occasionally aggressive, he had pulled way back and become more tender, less urgent. Everything was slower, like enjoying a favorite dessert by savoring every mouthful. When they had their fill, he would wrap his arms around her protectively and hold her for as long as he stayed, which sometimes was all day, but more recently he had taken to leaving before sunrise so that he cold be back at the house on Rue Royale before everyone turned in. She sensed a restlessness in him, that something had happened that worried him still. But she didn't try to force him to talk about it, knowing that when he was ready he'd come to her. It made things more quiet and intimate at the flat, and that was okay and made a nice contrast to the hubbub of the French Quarter.
She loved her flat. Jean had hand picked it for her before he even asked her to move, and he had furnished it well with fine, artistic furniture, nothing too flashy, but more elegant. It felt like home the instant she walked into it, and she added very few touches to it. Jean had exquisite taste.
Her favorite piece, of course, was the 9' grand piano. She'd never had such an incredible instrument of her own. It had the most beautiful tone and touch, and she loved playing it almost as much as Jean enjoyed listening to her play it.
She liked her job, too, and she was well compensated for her talents. It was a lazy part time job that conveniently left her available to attend functions with Jean and occasionally members of the family. She got her artistic performance outlet stroked regularly at the club and still had the opportunity to try other ventures as well as spend time with Jean. Life was good. Really good. She felt incredibly lucky. She was also very much in love with Jean Claude DuValliere.
They were spending a quiet evening alone together. First they had been wrapped up together watching an old movie, something with Cary Grant, though she wasn't really paying that much attention. Being around Jean sometimes had the affect of making her concentration waver … a lot. They'd had an incredible two hours of lovemaking and they were both still basking in the afterglow, when she had moved to the piano. She was playing for him, Chopin, one of his favorites, when he had sat beside her on the bench and begun kissing her neck, something he knew she adored.
She had faltered and stopped but he was insistent, "No, don't stop. Keep playing … and sing for me, too". His tongue ran along the delicate outside edge of her ear.
She continued to play, whispering to him, "No words to Chopin." She changed songs almost imperceptibly, always eager to please him. She broke into his favorite song, one she had first done for him three years ago, when he had been so overcome he'd kissed her, picked her up, and carried her right out of the club. Whenever he asked her to sing, she knew this was what he wanted to hear, even three years later.
Pride can stand a thousand trials
He nibbled on her neck and around to her throat, peppering her jaw with kisses and driving her mad while she tried to sing her heart to him. His hand traced loving patterns on her back and tickled her sides, and every touch thrilled her like the first time he had touched her.
'Cause I'm kissing you
She moved into the final piano interlude, quietly teasing him. "How well do you think I'll be able to play when you're doing .. " she gasped as he drew her flesh into his mouth, "ooooooo …… ummmm … that?" She began to melt into him, like she had a thousand times before, his lips welcome on her flesh. She finished the piece and turned toward him, shifting in his arms and straddling the piano bench so that she could face him and wrap herself around him.
"Cher .. I need to talk to you." He murmured into her ear, pushing her away a little.
For some reason Olivia's heart froze. Jean was being serious, and Jean was rarely serious unless he was fighting or doing business. He'd been so withdrawn she had a sudden fear that he was about to send her packing back to Mobile, and she had no idea how she would be able to survive that and remain sane. She'd gone out of her way to keep her true feelings hidden from him for fear he would be overwhelmed or, worse, bothered. Jean was a man who needed space and freedom, and she gave him as much of it as she possibly could and still be there for him when he needed or wanted her. Of course, she always wanted him. There was never a time when she didn't. The fear welled up in her again as she feared what he might be about to say.
She nodded her approval and he began to spill details of the story of the Pride's trip to LA, of how Baby conducted herself, how she saved not only Spike but the family as well, of her dealings with Angel, him claiming her, of her revenge on Wolfram & Hart, and of how watching her had shown him the importance of having someone at your side, someone to share things with but also to stand up for you when the world seemed out to dust you.
He kissed her lightly before he went on. "Liv … you know I'm already married." She nodded, speech being all but impossible right now with the ball of fear wadded in her throat. Yes, she was very aware he was married, and that his wife had remarried because he was technically dead. But she also knew that he still wore his wedding band, he still made sure his wife and daughters were well taken care of financially, and though he wasn't a daily presence in their lives, he watched over them much more than anyone else knew. She also knew that Jean Claude had never claimed anyone else primarily because he still had a human wife. Jean was not a man who would commit himself to one person when he was already committed to another, or in love with another, and Olivia knew beyond all doubt that he was still committed to Marie and quite in love with Rene. As often as she brought the both of them into her bed, it had been impossible for him to hide it from her.
"You know that I have no one … permanent," he looked down at the floor like an embarrassed schoolboy asking a girl out for the first time. It was adorable. God, she loved him.
He went on. "But … and well I can't really, it wouldn't be right, still, " he looked up at her again, the warm brown of his eyes more seductive than ever. "Still … you mean more to me than I thought any woman ever could. And … and I want to make things a little more 'official' between us."
Olivia was pleasantly stunned. She had feared a brush off, yet he wanted to bring them closer? She was relieved and eager and had absolutely no idea what he had in mind, but she also knew that no matter what it was, her answer would be yes. She was so much in love with him that she wouldn't deny him anything, even her life if he wanted it. She had carefully concealed how much she cared for him, not wanting him to feel pressured or obligated to her. Nothing would have irked her more than for him to feel obligated to her, she'd have felt like a troublesome stone around his neck. She knew he still carried a brightly flaming torch for his brother, she knew he still considered himself married to Marie, she knew that vampires didn't necessarily marry, though in Spike's family things did seem to be a bit closer to human mating than what she'd read about vampire culture in general. Nothing about their family was typical.
"I don't know how much you know of our ways, of the different ways we … oh, this isn't coming out right." He groaned. He closed his eyes and focused, taking her hands in his before turning that devastating gaze on her again. "Liv … will you be my companion?" He stammered a little. "Th .. that means we are bound to each other, but you are not claimed, we wouldn't be married, but other vampires would know that you are spoken for and that to approach you would mean they have to answer ….."
"Yes!" Before he could even finish what he was saying, she was on him, her arms thrown around his neck, her lips on his, her acceptance still ringing in the air. He drew her lips into his, lingering in her kiss and feeling flushed and warm from the inside out. She'd said yes.
After a few minutes he began to withdraw a little, trying to talk to her while still kissing her hungrily. "Liv …" he moaned. "Liv, cher, I need …to explain … what …" She devoured him again. "Liv … honey … let me tell you … ohhhhhhhhhh." Lost in her kisses and the feel of her fingers in his hair, his mind swam in her, losing whatever it was that he felt he needed to tell her.
She unbuttoned his shirt, her lips never leaving his, her hands moving swiftly and accurately and his shirt quickly finding its way to the floor. Her hands held lightly to his sides, each finger claiming a rib while her kiss claimed him. Her light-weight sweater joined his shirt on the floor and Jean's hands found their way up past her knees beneath her full skirt to the velvety soft skin of her inner thighs. Olivia gasped against him. She loved how he teased her there, making her body ache for him to go further until she was ready to beg, then just as she was ready to plead with him, he would lightly caress and tease to the edge of orgasm. Then he would delay her further. He was both torturous and magnificent in how well he played her body.
The clasp and zipper of his trousers offered no challenge to her, and once they were open her hand dipped inside to grasp the prize he offered. She squeezed, he moaned in response. It was a delicious duet of ecstasy and desire as they played and loved together in a slow movement of foreplay and sexual teasing. Moments later, their clothes littering the floor, Jean reached with one hand to close the keyboard and bring the cover down before he bid her stand with only a little urging from his own body, their mouths still hungry for one another.
His arms encircled her, pressing her to him as he lifted her onto the cool, polished wood of the piano. It hardly gave beneath her, the steady instrument well anchored in the center of the room. With tender hands upon each of her knees, Jean opened her to him as his lips danced over her soft inner thighs and into the scorching wetness that was she held only for him. She moaned against him, quickly rocketing into an orgasm with gentlest urging of his tongue. As she came down from it, he crawled atop her, joining his lips to hers once again. She could taste herself on him, something which would have made her uncomfortable three years ago and which she loved now. It was Jean offering it to her, the scent and taste of her own arousal. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pulled him into her, wanting to feel him inside her, a part of her, joined for just this little while in a memory that she would savor forever.
She felt him change. He rarely did that when they made love and he usually tried to hide it when he did, as if he were somehow ashamed of what he was. It was the only time she saw any uncertainty or insecurity in him. She held him tighter. He felt so different when he was changed. He was still Jean but different, not just in his face, but other parts of his body changed as well, and it always excited her even more when he did it. She'd never told him … she did this time, cooing her approval in his ear as she pulled him even further into her. She felt his fangs elongate and brush her neck, dragging along the artery.
It was time. She'd wanted this for some time and never asked him, never offered it to him, but tonight, she wanted it, she wanted to give him this taste of her, all of her. "Yessssss," she whispered to him. And she lifted her chin, offering her throat to him.
"Liv …" he said breathlessly. "Yes … yes … for us both." He captured her mouth first, his fangs pressing against her lips but not breaking the skin, though at this point she wouldn't have objected or even cared. "My love," he whispered to her, "this will mark you as mine. No one will touch you without my permission and yours."
"Yes, please, Jean … please, please do it … please." Her legs tighted around him as she moved her hips in slow circles, wanting his fangs in her as much as the cool, hard shaft that was already inside her, moving and touching with each word and each movement they both made. "Yessssssssssss," she hissed.
Unable and unwilling to wait another moment, he brushed her hair aside and slid his sharp teeth into the exposed artery of her throat. She cried out, in ecstasy more than pain, as Jean drew her blood into him, his own growl of dominance resounding in his chest as well as hers. The world exploded around them at their simultaneous release, tiny droplets of escaped blood trickling onto their black lacquer bed, the strings of the piano vibrating their approval in overtones as their joining was consummated.
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"Jean?" Olivia's voice was noticeably stronger. "Jean?" She urged him awake calling his name and stroking his cheek. Her hand was invaded with multiple IV's and monitors, still she had that soft touch that always made him feel warm and safe and loved. "Jean? Love, wake up. Can you wake up? Please?" She was actually jostling him.
Jean's arms were still tight around her as he slept the day. Olivia had felt better after only a few hours asleep in his arms, as if his presence were a magic elixir bringing her back from the edge of death and into his arms instead. She had managed to call the nurse and convince her, quietly, to disconnect some of the tubes and monitors and to remove the totally obnoxious catheter all without waking up Jean. She'd regained enough strength to not necessarily be threatening to a perfectly healthy nurse, but sharp enough to manipulate her with warning of how cranky vampires can be when they are woken in the middle of the day. But now she herself was going to have to deal with the "wrath of Jean." She needed him to loosen his hold on her.
"Jean! Please, honey, wake up just a little? I need to move." Her voice was sounding a bit desperate.
"Mmmmmmmm, no, gonna hold you all day" He murmured in his half awake state.
"No, Jean, honey, I have to get up. I need to … please, baby, I need to get up." She sounded uncomfortable and was suddenly regretting convincing the nurse to remove the catheter. With all the IV fluids they had going into her she was going to burst if she didn't get to the bathroom soon. She beeped the attendant and asked for help. She was going to need help getting to the john with the IV stand anyway, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Jean wouldn't be able to walk much less help. She'd never seen him sleeping so hard.
The nurse tried to unentangle Jean Claude's limbs from her patient, gently but firmly until Liv was free enough to sit up on the edge of the bed. As much as she loved being in his arms, it felt wonderful to be sitting. She felt she'd been in bed for a week instead of just a day.
"You scared us yesterday," the familiar voice said.
Olivia's face broadened into an enormous smile. "Rene! Oh, it's good to see you." She nodded okay to the nurse who left quickly, as Liv held her arms out to Rene. "Can you help me up? I'm making the long trek across the room to the can." There was a hint of life and laughter to her voice. Rene wasn't sure he'd ever heard anything so beautiful.
He lifted her effortlessly off the bed and steadied her as she moved slowly toward the bathroom. Thankfully, she had convinced the doctor she no longer needed heart and respiration monitors, so the IV stand was all she had to maneuver. Her steps were a little unsure but stronger than he expected. Once she was to the door, she insisted he leave her alone for a few minutes.
"I promise, Mr. Fussy, if I need help I'll call you. I'm feeling pretty good now that I'm moving around, a little stiff, but functional."
Rene gave her an almost lecherous smile. "Yes, well, things been known to stiffen around you, cher."
She laughed out loud, a sound that filled the room and darn near knocked Jean out of the hospital bed. He awoke with a start, scrambling to reach for the woman who was no longer there in the bed with him. She couldn't help it. She giggled. His face lit up at the sight and sound of it, and he was at her side in a shot.
"Liv, honey, what you doing up? Rene? What are you doing, she shouldn't be up …" Before he could finish his chastisement, Olivia's arms were around him and her lips were shutting him up with a deep, very much alive, kiss.
"Now shhh you," she scolded him when she at least released his lips. "If you don't help me through that door right this second you'll be seeing first hand why I'm up!"
He got the message and helped her into the small room, arguing with her as she closed the door with him on the outside.
"No use, frere, she won't let us in there. I already try." Rene stood there with a bit of a smirk on his face. "We might as well have a seat. I don't think she'll be quick about it, not as slow as she's moving."
The two brothers sat on her hospital bed, side by side, silent for a few minutes before Jean started asking questions. He was more than a little confused at why she was suddenly so alert and chipper when she had seemed so weak the night before.
"I think she got the medicine she needed, Jean." Rene smiled at him, seeing the confusion again and then the realization. "Yeah, she need you. The doctor thought she wasn't gonna make it, but a few hours with you and she's a lot better. I always said you were good medicine."
Jean hugged his brother, partially in gratitude for keeping up with what was going on with her medically, but also in shear relief. He hadn't lost her. And now he wouldn't ever. He began making plans, thinking out loud to Rene about when and how he would turn her before she got too sick again and where they would travel and what they would do … when Rene stopped him with a silent hand on his arm.
"Jean … m'frere, she not want to be changed." Rene didn't know any other way to say it except to just blurt it out. It took Jean a few moments to realize what he'd said, his mouth hanging open, his eyes furrowed in concern. Rene just shook his head. "I'm sorry, I talk to her for hours 'bout it, Baby, too. She wouldn't. She say she not want to be cold. She not wanna risk her place in heaven to be undead, even with you. She … she say she just wait for you there." Rene had put on a brave face, but it has been excruciating to tell his brother these things. Jean had made no reply. He just stared first at Rene and then into space once he was unable to meet his brother's eyes any longer. It hurt. It hurt a lot.
"I … I'll ask her again, Rene. Maybe she'll feel different now, now that I know and now that she's hurt so bad. Maybe … maybe …." His thoughts and words drifted away, doubt and pain showing plainly in his eyes.
"And if she still say no?"
Jean sighed. "Then it's no, Rene." His voice was firm, full of pain, but firm. "I won't change her against her wishes. If this is what she wants, then we make her happy and comfortable until her time is through, and then we let her go."
Rene was about to argue with him when Olivia appeared in the doorway, smiling and proud of herself.
"All right, you two, make yourselves useful and help me back to bed, then get me my clothes and get me the hell out of here."
"Cher, no!" Both brothers stood and spoke at the same time.
She only had to raise an eyebrow and they quieted immediately.
"They told me if I could went toilet myself, then they'd spring me. There's not much they can do anyway except drug me unconscious when the pain gets bad, and we can do that at home, if we have to." It was obvious to them both that she had already wangled her way with the doctors and staff. Her arguments were no doubt impeccable and convincing, no matter how bad of an idea it really was.
She was suddenly all business. "Rene, you see if they'll give you some pain meds for me, okay, cher?" She was already taking the IV out of her hand herself. She stared at the drops of blood that formed on her hand, then she offered her hand to Jean. He took it, his eyes never leaving hers, and swathed the blood from her skin with his tongue. All these years later, her blood was still sweet and somehow feminine to him. He had never refused it whenever she offered.
The heart and respiration monitors had already been removed. "Jean? I want out of this backless wonder of a nightgown, worthless piece of almost paper. It's ghastly. Find my clothes, please, sweetness?" By now she was patting his cheek and charming the sock off of him. He'd have carried her home on his back in the sun if she'd asked him to. She was back, and he felt alive again.
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Back at the beach house, things were quiet and not so sterile. Baby had opened the house a bit while the boys brought her home, made some soup for her and made sure there was plenty of blood in the fridge for Jean. She intended to take Rene home if she had to physically drag him. "They need time alone, m'coeur, put yourself in Jean's place." Rene had agreed and after seeing that Olivia was settled and comfortable, he and Baby had gone with orders to call immediately if they were needed, though he was still reluctant.
Jean was trying not to hover, but he was failing miserably at it. Olivia let him. She was feeling a bit sheepish herself realizing that how he found out about her illness was probably not the best way. She had always just hoped that she'd be fine and then just one day it would be over and they would never have to talk about it and he would never have to see her suffering. She couldn't bear that even more than the thought she might be in pain for an extended time. She didn't want him to have to endure that. She just wanted to have her time with him and be gone and there not be any pain for either of them. Then she'd wait for him, just like she'd told Rene, wait for Jean to join her in heaven where, she truly felt, they would finally be together as they were meant to be.
While she was tucked into bed having some soup, Jean lit a fire in the usually ornamental fireplace and put on some soft music, Fourplay, one of Liv's favorites. She smiled at him, it was one of their favorite lovemaking CD's.
"Why Monsieur DuValliere, are you trying to seduce me?"
Jean kissed her lightly, licking a bit of carrot off her lower lip. "Every day of your life, Ms. Fairchild."
She smirked. "Well, that's not much of a challenge." She was trying to joke, to keep it light. It didn't work. Jean's face dropped like a stone.
"Jean, no please, don't." She took his chin in her hand and lifted it, forcing him to look at her. "My love, please don't. It's okay. Everything will be okay."
Jean looked hurt and was suddenly defensive. "How can you say that? It's won't be okay. You're going to die, and you weren't even going to tell me. And now Rene tells me you won't be turned, that you don't want it, that you'd rather just die and be done with it." His lower lip trembled a little. He looked like a little boy, all helpless and desperate and wanting something he could not have.
"Jean." Her voice was soft. "Jean … love … I know you are disappointed, but … but I don't want that life. More importantly, I don't want that death. If you turn me, then I risk eternal damnation, right? I'm not redeemed like you and Rene, even being your child, I would have to earn it, right?"
Jean really didn't know, but he knew she was right; it was a risk unless they could find out something more definitive.
She placed her hand on his cheek. "You know, more than anyone, what my faith has meant to me. Just as yours is to you. It is ours and it is personal, but you know what I'm talking about." She looked at him urgently. "I'm not afraid, my love. I know where I'm headed. I know it will be glorious and that eventually you will join me there and … that is what I want. This is what I want. And hopefully we'll have many days of love to share before I have to go." Her lips found his and she poured love into him. She could feel his pain, his desperate search for another answer. But she was resolute about it and she felt his surrender to what she wanted. It was her life. Just like everything else, she would meet death the way she wanted to, without trying to trick it or negotiate more time among the undead.
Jean joined her on the bed, her pulling him beneath the covers with her. Once she had assured him that she was okay and would not break, they peeled their clothes and wrapped themselves in one another, spending the next few hours touching and holding, kissing and loving one another in a dance so slow it felt as if they had all the time in the world.
CHAPTER 5
March 18, 2011
Liv was just finishing her set at the Pink Pony when René walked into the joint. He looked substantially more haggard than the last time she'd seen him, which had only been a few weeks ago. Even so, he was a sight for sore eyes and she brightened from her bluesy chanteuse demeanor when he kissed her lightly mid-song and took a seat at the closest table to the stage. The waitress brought his usual before he was even settled into his chair.
Olivia had come to Mobile for a few months at the request of the owner. He'd lost his most recent act unexpectedly when they'd both died suddenly from complications due to severe neck trauma. That seemed to be happening a lot recently. It was horrible and unnerving, and the first thing he did was call Olivia in New Orleans hoping she'd be up for a month or two of fill-in at the old haunt, as well as casually mention to the family what was going on in Mobile. Never one to pass on a friend in need, and wanting to check out the vampire action in her old home, she discussed it with Jean, put dust covers on her furniture and piano, and headed out the next day. She enjoyed her multiple gigs in New Orleans, but she was ready for a bit of a break. The music scene there was so much more sophisticated than Mobile, and the beachside pub had a casual feel to it she had always enjoyed. It would be nice to spend a bit of time there, as long as Jean visited frequently, which he promised to do.
Things had been busy for Jean lately and they were getting very little time together. The details and complicated inventory of keeping up with the goings on for the Master of New Orleans kept the eldest son busy and away from his companion. She wasn't necessarily feeling taken for granted, but there was a little mental subtext she saw here … with her gone, perhaps he'd realize how much he missed her and how little time they'd had lately. And even if he didn't, she'd still get to spend a few weeks at the beach. It had been a long time since she had done that.
When she finished the set, she kissed René deeply, then signaled for a drink and a refill for him. "Mmmm lovely to see you." She smiled warmly. "Now, why are you here, frère, and why do you look like shit?" Never one to mince words, Olivia noticed as she moved closer to René how unhappy and miserable he looked. She could have been all genteel about it and coerced the reasoning behind it out of him, but she knew being direct would have a better result with René, not to mention it was much easier on them both. They had a casual familiarity that could only be found in someone who was both a lover and a friend. Their shared love of Jean kept them at an uncomplicated distance from each other romantically … they knew what to expect from the other, a gentle, family love, tender lovemaking, and the unspoken knowledge that either one would drop everything and go to Jean the moment he glanced at either of them. It made things easier for them. They could talk about things with each other that they couldn't with anyone else, even Jean. They could talk about him, their love for him, their concerns about him, and discuss problems that even Jean himself might not understand.
More than once Olivia had cried on René's shoulder. Jean's love of his brother would always overshadow his love for her. She knew it, and René knew it. But with René so in love with Baby, it shuffled Jean to the same place in René's heart that Olivia had in Jean's. Second fiddle. Second best. She knew that if Jean knew she felt that way he would berate himself with guilt and make some kind of forced effort to make her feel more a part of his heart. She didn't want that. She didn't want anything forced from Jean and she never wanted him to feel guilty about their relationship. She had always accepted it just as it was: sometimes they were together, sometimes they were not. René took it all in stride; he understood all too well how both of them felt-being Baby's second best gave him a very painful insight to it all. They had both laughed amongst the tears at how pathetically bad the Roxtons were at this eternal love thing. It was always so complicated, far beyond a simple triangle. They were well into hexagons.
René stared into his drink. "Dammit, Liv, you have to be so insightful all the time? Can't a guy just come have a drink?"
She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Okay, cher, you right. Can we get out of here?" He slammed down his drink, then finally looked at her. She saw the shattered pieces of his heart reflected in his eyes.
With a nod to the owner, they were gone. He'd come to expect Olivia's hasty departure any time one of the New Orleans crowd came in. At least this time they weren't making out or discarding clothes on the way.
Once outside, Liv dragged him toward the water. A walk on the beach at night always cleared her head and made it easier to verbalize or at least realize what was going on inside her own head. She suspected it might do the same for René. There was a peaceful, cleansing property to the lap of the waves against the shore. She pulled off her shoes, tossing them aside, and walked in the wet sand. She reached a hand toward him. "Come with me. Let's walk a bit."
René kept his boots on, though it would be hell getting sand out of the silver toe points later, and took her hand. The wash of the water was like white noise, non-distracting and strangely calming. She always knew just how to get him to relax enough to talk. He wondered idly how she did that. She had this ability to see just what would make someone talk about their problems, whether it be him, Jean, or anyone else within the family. He'd even seen her do it with Spike, catching them in a dusk-to-dawn chat in his study. The woman had missed her calling. She was a very good musician, but she was an incredible listener. From time to time she and René had taken to calling each other Troi and Riker, René always ready with an emotional, sometimes violent response, and Olivia, ever the listener, planting rational seeds of logic in her questions, forcing everyone to take a deep-down look at what they were thinking and feeling. It annoyed the hell out of him sometimes. He wanted to be annoyed now, but he couldn't be; she was saying and asking all the right things to make him really look at his life. They walked and talked most of the rest of the night, hand-in-hand at first, René's arm around her shoulders later. When he noticed she was getting chilled, he wrapped his jacket around her and held her closer as they returned to club. From there, they each drove to her beach house.
Olivia showered while René whipped up an omelet for her. Within 30 minutes they were cuddled up on the sofa together in front of a small fire with glasses of wine and jazz playing in the background. As the sun just began to rise, it was quite the romantic scene in spite of Liv's probing questions about him and Baby and where things could and could not go for them now.
After a period of mutual silence, she leaned in and kissed him softly before laying her head on his shoulder and moving in closer. "René … " she began slowly. "What are you going to do now? You're here with Sam and the others … what are your plans for the future? It can't all be just about escaping temptation." They'd discussed it before. No matter the depth of his love for her, he could not have Baby without destroying them both and the family, and Olivia would not let him forget it even for a moment when he was trying to set the course of his life in order. He needed to find a new direction now.
"Cher, I have no idea."
She smiled and kissed him again, caressing his cheek with her fingertips. "It's okay, René, you don't have to have all the answers right now. Have you seen Nina yet?" René shook his head. "How about we go over to Billie's tomorrow and spend some time with her, then? She's growing up so fast, and I know she loves seeing you. Besides, being around her always perks me up and helps me to see more clearly what's most important. Maybe it will do the same for you." Her smile broadened. "Not to mention we'll get a home-cooked meal out of it."
René hadn't even thought about going over there yet. He was still dealing with the heartbreak of leaving his love, his home, his family, and trying to find solace in a new location. True, he had chosen Mobile because his daughter was there, and because Aunt Billie was there, and because Spike had business dealings there he could take over for the family. Olivia being here now was an unexpected boon, as well. It seemed a good idea. It was far enough away from New Orleans that the temptation of Baby's constant presence wouldn't be a threat, yet still close enough that he could be back home if needed in three hours or less. Once settled, he thought he would like it here.
"You've done a very difficult and noble thing in leaving the woman you love, René." She paused for a moment. "It was brave of you to dare see a different life away from the pain and temptation." Her demeanor changed to something casually forced, "Um, how did Jean take it?" She had heard very little from him since she had arrived back in Mobile. She missed him terribly, and he had yet to come visit her. She hadn't specifically asked him to, but she had hoped … well, she had hoped.
René couldn't really look at her now. "It … it wasn't easy, cher." Pain and regret trimmed the edge of his voice. He spoke volumes with just the few words, those teal eyes turning up toward her revealing how hard it really had been to not only leave his sire and his love, but the brother who loved him above all others.
"Jean loves you, René." She couldn't say anymore, nor did she have to.
René felt her become heavier against him, her head beginning to loll in drowsiness. "Let's turn in, cher, it was a long night," he suggested as he gathered her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He tenderly unfastened her clothes and removed them before tucking her into the starched, eyelet sheets. He removed his own clothing and settled in next to her, pulling her next to him, feeling her warm flesh against his cool skin.
She was already asleep in his arms, murmuring nonsensically in her half-dream state. He kissed her hair, breathing her in and finding comfort in her warmth and presence. She shifted a little, moving closer to him, her hands lightly dancing on him with familiarity and affection, stopping occasionally as she would fall deeper into sleep.
"G'night, cher," he whispered to her softly.
Olivia sighed dreamily. "Night … I love you … m'Jean."
For a painful moment René's heart ached for her loneliness as he realized he was not the only one who could not have the one he loved best.
"I love you, too, cher … sleep now."
"Mmmmm yes …"
Entwined together, they drifted off to sleep.
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Dinner at Aunt Billie's had been a rare treat for everyone. Leone pulled tons of food from the freezer and had it cooking and filling the house with delicious smells before René had even hung up the phone to let them know they were coming. Nina had been on her best behavior, charming René every moment, reading to him from her favorite books, teaching him her favorite games, doing card tricks for him, and commenting more than once how their eyes were the very same color. Billie had fussed over him shamelessly herself, as had Leone. Olivia had sat in the background this trip and simply watched as René got a heaping serving of love and adoration from all of them. She could almost see his heart healing in front of her.
As they readied to leave, René and Nina shared a few more quiet, alone moments filled with cuddles and giggles and kisses while Leone had loaded Olivia down with enough leftovers to feed an army. "Honey, you too busy with yer sanging and all, you jist enjoy all dis and come back when you need more."
Driving back to the beach house, René put his hand affectionately on Liv's. "Thank you."
"Whatever for?"
"You right, cher. Seein' her makes you see what's important."
Olivia smiled brightly at him with a sparkle in her eye. "Told ya." They both laughed.
"I need to talk to Sam and the children and do a little hunting. Can I come by later?"
"Do you need to ask?" She blatantly flirted with him, keeping the mood light and playful. Taking him to see Nina had been a very good idea.
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April 21, 2011
Liv had just started a late night set when the doors of the Pink Pony burst open. She didn't normally play this late, but it had been a good crowd and she felt inspired to reward them with a few more songs. She was feeling particularly melancholy that night and going home alone and finding once again there was no word from Jean taunted her. She'd rather play all night.
A large group tumbled into the place, laughing and talking so loudly that she cut the verse of the song short and waited for them to get in and settled while tinkering with an improvised piano interlude. When she noticed they were all extremely pale, she began to watch them more closely. There had to be close to fifty of them, and if they were all vampires out for a snack, they were all in trouble. As she played, she tried to appear relaxed and casual as mentally she tried to figure out how to call René and get some help. The group continued to pour into the place, filling most of the tables and sending the bartender and waitress into late night panic mode.
Then the last of them entered and her face lit up. Last to come into the place was René, Sam, Joseph, and a few of his other children that she recognized but didn't know by name. Some of them waved and smiled to her. She suddenly realized this was his family, his children, his grandchildren, possibly even great grandchildren, and they were all in celebration mode. René signaled to Sam to take care of things at the bar while he moved quickly to Olivia and swept her into his arms, kissing her deeply.
"Have I got news for you," he whispered across her ear. Liv cocked her head to one side curiously. "But you play for now, I'll get you a drink; you finish the set and then we'll all party."
She wasn't sure she had ever seen him so happy and proud. The family in its entirety had incredible presence, especially René and his eldest children. Fifty vampires in a room would normally send any other patrons running and bring the temperature down about 10 degrees, but not so with these. The room absolutely radiated excitement, affection, and warmth.
Liv played all of René's favorite songs while he played host and patriarch. He bought drinks for everyone in the place and when Olivia finished her set, he joined her at the stage, handing her a fresh drink and holding his own aloft.
"My family celebrating tonight." He grinned knowingly at Olivia. "We celebratin' because there is now a new Master in Mobile." He tried to look humble, but it just didn't fit. His teal eyes almost glowed in pride and enthusiasm as he took a moment to smile and nod to each of his children. They each in turn beamed back at their father; the conquerors had triumphed, and now it was time to rejoice.
Sam popped up in the back, "To the Master!"
Everyone in the room stood and raised their glasses in tribute and respect to René, who beamed proudly, his arm snaking around Olivia's waist and pulling her close. He clinked his glass to hers and drank deeply, then leaned into her. "Looks like I've found my future, cher."
Olivia stared at him, mouth agape. When René Beaumont made a decision, he rarely made it half-heartedly. Before she could say a word, René swept her up into his arms and kissed her, lifting her off the floor and swinging her around. As their lips parted, Liv threw her head back in laughter and joy.
The festivities continued another few hours with music and dancing filling the place to capacity. When things began to break up, the owner refused to accept payment from them, the first true indication that things in Mobile had turned around for them all. Here was a man whose pub had been well-established and well-known, already paying tribute to the new Master. René's nod and smile guaranteed him that this would not be forgotten and pretty much guaranteed the continued success of the Pink Pony Pub … as well as its protection from marauders and vamp gangs. No one would dare pick off patrons from his parking lot for a midnight snack now. He beamed almost as much as René.
Sam was given orders to see everyone back to the hotel safely being careful of stragglers and those who'd partied a bit too much. René held tightly to Olivia most of the night. "I'm going home with Liv," he announced to Sam, then turned to her. "I assume that's all right, cher? You mind the Master of Mobile imposing on you?" He was playful and smiling … and for the first time she could remember … happy.
She grinned back. "Who am I to deny the Master?" Their laughter filled the room.
As they headed out the door, René looked back at the bartender and raised an eyebrow mischievously, "Don't expect her in tomorrow night … or the one after that." He winked and closed the door behind him.
***************************
It was a short ride to her place, but by the time they arrived, most of their clothes had been shed, and René, wearing only jeans, carried an almost-naked Olivia into the house. Their lips were all but fused together, the excitement and intensity of the night bleeding into their kiss. He closed the door with his foot and took her straight to the bedroom, tossing her playfully onto the bed as he shed his jeans and eyed what few garments she still had on. She wasn't fast enough. René ripped the rest off with hardly a pass of his hand and lay her down, covering her body with his own and latching his hungry mouth onto her nipple. She gasped in surprise and fell into the arousal and sexual frenzy that René so easily elicited from her.
After the first round of lovemaking, they reclaimed the covers from the floor and settled into each others' arms. They talked and kissed and just enjoyed being together, while René explained in detail what had happened with the old Master. Liv was impressed with the planning that had gone into it, the research and effort spent to make it come off without a hitch and place René in charge of the vampire and demon population of Mobile. His family had functioned like a well-oiled machine, their years of training in New Orleans neither wasted nor squandered. Liv could hardly believe it. Just listening to him talk about the challenge and the fight and the expert manner in which his children had infiltrated the old operation and allowed the coup filled her with almost as much pride as he demonstrated.
While they talked, they petted and stroked one another, peppering kisses from time to time on skin and lips and hair. Over the last month they had developed a much deeper relationship than Liv had thought possible. She knew how much René loved Baby, she had seen it herself long before Jean filled her in on it. She had no pretense of replacing her in René's heart, but their time together had helped heal her heart that ached for Jean, and René appeared to have found solace in her arms as well. They did not fool themselves that they were in love, but they found in each other exactly what they needed and wanted, be it friendship, emotional support, love, intimacy, or a short respite from their loneliness.
René turned onto his side, propping his head up with his hand, and just stared at her for a few silent moments until Liv got visibly uncomfortable. "René? What are you doing?"
"Cher, things change tonight."
"Yes, I know. Last night I was sleeping with the second son of William the Bloody, tonight I'm sleeping with the ruler of a city. Quite a step up, don't you think?" She smiled playfully.
He stroked her cheek. "Not just that, cher. Other things change too. And I can't have you walking around Mobile with only Jean's companion mark on you. Anyone who recognizes his mark knows he's in New Orleans. It makes you look abandoned and leaves you vulnerable, Liv. I don't want you being prey, or worse, snack food, for some foolish fledge who don't know the new rules."
She wrinkled her brow a little, not really following him. "René … what are you talking about? No one bothers me."
"Cher, you been watched more than you know. Joseph's been watching them watching you, and they're getting closer and braver about it. Now that the hierarchy has changed, you could be in danger. "
She still appeared confused, and he stroked her cheek lovingly. "Liv, I want to mark you."
"What?" She was stunned. "René! No, I have Jean's mark, I'm his companion, and …"
"Shhhhh, Liv, listen to me. I know that. I not wanting to contradict that. You are Jean's companion, I not want to change that. But here, now, we are lovers, cher: you aren't some pet or fucktoy."
"René!" Embarrassed laughter escaped her lips.
"Shhhh, I want you to be marked as mine, as protected by the Master of Mobile. Not as consort or companion, but as something else. We make our own mark, as lover, as cher ami, but most important as mine." He kissed her softly. "You think, cher; I going to make us some tea. You hungry? You want a snack?"
He climbed out of bed and headed toward the kitchen. Olivia suddenly thought to herself that it was grossly unfair for him to flaunt that magnificent bare ass in front of her when she was supposed to be thinking objectively about something as important as being marked. She smirked. He was stacking the deck. When he returned with tea and some grapes, she welcomed him into her bed again, kissing him deeply as she stroked the strong line of his jaw.
"Yes."
"What? Cher? Are you sure?" She could hear the excitement in René's voice. She nodded.
"Yes, René. Mark me as yours. I can think of nothing more wonderful than to wear both your and Jean's marks."
His smile lit the room as they drank their tea, nibbled on fruit, and wrapped up in each other again. When their snack was finished, Olivia set things aside and pulled René onto her, her warm flesh welcoming the cool of his.
"Ready for round 2?" she teased.
René looked down at her, soaking in her beauty, the rich brown of her eyes, the reflection of the light off her hair, the fullness of her lips, and he wanted her. She could see it in him as well as feel his arousal against her, and she smiled at him, the welcoming smile of a lover eager to take him into her again. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer just as his lips covered hers. Their kiss, suddenly searching and urgent, brought them even closer to one another. Their need and reliance on each other was an anchor on which to hold tight. They were not the love of each other's lives, but they loved each other all the same, and their bodies did a tender, elaborate dance that reflected them.
When they both were approaching climax, René pulled back from her slightly, favoring her face, neck and shoulders with caresses and kisses. "Are you sure, m'belle?"
"Yesssss," she gasped, "Yes, René, yes." And she lifted and tilted her chin, exposing her throat to him. René immediately saw Jean's mark and felt a twinge of regret that he was not with them at this moment. The first time they had been together he was there guiding them, it seemed only right that he be here now. René knew that silently they both felt his absence. He licked his brother's mark, tracing the mostly healed puncture wounds with his tongue, then nuzzled her chin the other way, revealing unmarked flesh. He entered her just as his fangs slid into the pure, pale skin and she cried out as he claimed her as his lover, both of them drowning in the overwhelming sea of love and spirit and joining.
***********************
December 9, 2018
René found Jean asleep in the chair next to Olivia's bed. Baby had been right, she was much more pale and frail-looking than she had been even a week ago. The boost of energy she had experienced on her release from the hospital had waned, and she once again looked as if she didn't have much more time left. They all sensed it, yet no one talked about it. They took turns staying with her, reading to her, talking with her, making plans that would never be carried out. It was agonizing. Yet she insisted that there be a positive spirit in her home. Anyone who came into her home moping and crying was sent packing. Scented candles littered the house, adding their glow and gentle fragrance to the air. Her favorite classical music played in the background as well as inspirational arrangements of Christmas carols. It was a joyous time of year, and she wanted to experience it for as long as she could. The stench of impending death was not touching her or those around her. She wouldn't allow it.
In the last week it had gotten more difficult for her to get up and move around. She had insisted on getting out of bed. She wasn't going to lie around and wait for death like an old woman whose life was over and had nothing left but memories. If she was too weak to walk herself, then she had Jean carry her into the living room. She spent time on the covered porch every day, talking endlessly with Jean or René or Baby or Sam or whoever was on Liv Duty, and sometimes she just sat out there by herself. Even without the direct sunlight, she loved the feel of the ocean breeze on her face and the warmth of the sun that permeated the air. She lived. She ate and breathed and loved, and she felt the pain and premature loneliness of Jean and René at the knowledge that they wouldn't have her much longer. She took just enough of the drugs to take the edge off the pain but still keep herself conscious, but her body was failing her and her mind and her heart resented it.
René touched Jean gently on the shoulder, waking him. "M'frère, go sleep in the other room. I'll take over here."
Jean gave him a pained look. He could feel her slipping away now. She had remained mentally and spiritually strong up until the last few days. Now her body was giving up and her spirit just didn't have the strength to fight the uphill battle any longer.
René kissed his brother lightly. "Go now. I'll call you if there's any change."
As Jean went into the other room, René's heart ached to see how slowly and sadly he moved, how hurt and injured and lonely he was, and just how much losing Olivia was destroying him. He felt his brother's pain through their consort bond, a bond which Jean had proudly accepted and René had set aside when Baby returned to him. He still loved his brother more than anything … except her … and it killed him to see Jean in such agony and loneliness. He wanted to reach out and hold him, love him as he needed, wanted, and deserved to be loved, unconditionally, by one person. But René couldn't be all to Jean that he needed. His heart and his ultimate loyalty belonged to someone else, even though is brother's belonged to him. Jean deserved more. He deserved the love and devotion this woman had given him for almost 20 years. René knew how much Liv loved him, she glowed whenever they were together whether in public or private. And Jean was happy with her, too. He knew Olivia didn't want Jean to suffer for her loss, but by denying him her presence and love in the rest of his unlife she was sentencing him to an eternity without her companionship, something that had been very precious to Jean. On the heels of Marie's death, watching Olivia waste away and die was more than René felt Jean could take. René feared it would destroy Jean to be without her now. He needed her. He needed her much more than he even knew.
As Jean left, Olivia opened her eyes. "Jean?"
"It's René, cher, I'm here."
"Is the sun out?"
"No, cher. It set a little while ago. Do you want to go outside anyway?"
She sighed. "No. I just wanted to see the sunlight once more."
"Can I get you anything?" He'd noticed she'd stopped eating a few days ago. He hadn't had the heart to ask Jean about it, but he'd noticed that all the food in the house was still there, uneaten. The painkillers affected her appetite, but he also feared that in many ways her body was no longer functioning and preparing itself for death.
"No. Well. Yes. I'm cold."
"You want another blanket?"
She turned her dulling eyes toward him. "No. Can I have you? Your arms around me?"
"I'm all yours, m'belle." He climbed into the bed with her, pulling her wasting frame against him and wrapping his arms around her as he pulled the covers over them. The beating of her heart was slow and strangely peaceful, her body warm and soft against him. And she was weakening. She was relying on him now; his cool body wasn't so much a source of warmth as it was of strength. He could feel it. He could feel her through their link, holding on tightly to him and to Jean in an effort to stay a little longer with them.
Her voice was whisper-soft, as if she didn't have the strength to speak fully. "Where's Jean?"
"He in the other room sleeping. You want me get him?" He started to move.
"No. No, he hasn't been sleeping. I can feel him watching me while I do, but he's tired. He needs to sleep." She took a deep breath, saying so much at once took more energy than she had thought. Her eyes closed for a few minutes, resting, as if she were trying to gather her strength again.
René caressed her skin, the line of her jaw, the marks on her neck, both his and Jean's. He touched her shoulders and arms, interlaced her unresisting fingers. And he thought of Jean and ultimately what this was doing to him, how much he did not want to lose Olivia and how much pain radiated from him. Their consort link told him everything. He felt Jean's pain at losing René to Baby again, he felt the emptiness that Olivia's approaching death was bringing him. He couldn't bear the thought of Jean having any more pain, any more loneliness. Losing Olivia was going to make it worse. And he selfishly realized that he didn't want to lose her either.
"Cher?"
"Mmm?" Her eyes were still closed, her cheek nestled into René's chest.
"Liv, I want to talk to you about Jean."
Her eyes fluttered open. "Is he okay?" Her soft voice held an edge of panic.
"Shhhhh, yes, baby, he's okay. For now. But I worry. I worry what gonna happen to him when you leave him."
René felt a stifled sob shake her fragile chest. He began stroking her hair; his hand suddenly seemed too large, as if she were shrinking moment by moment. He whispered softly. "It don't have to be like this, cher. Jean, he want to turn you. He don't want to lose you. Neither do I." He lifted her chin, turning her tear-streaked face toward him. "But he won't do it if you don't want it."
Her voice broke. "I … know. I can't, René. What might happen. I can't be that." Each word was painful to release and became more and more quiet. A human would not have been able to hear half of what she said.
"I know, cher, I know. It's an awful risk. But me and Jean, we turn out okay. And Claudia. And most of Spike's children and mine and Jean's. We don't lose many. We have a strong bloodline." He smiled reassuringly down at her.
"I … can wait, René." The glow of Heaven flashed across her face. "I'll wait for you both there. Make it nice for when you both come."
"I know, m'amour. But I don't know that I can wait. For me. Or for Jean." He began to unfasten the tiny buttons of her flannel gown. She shivered beneath his touch, both wanting and not wanting him. Her heart and mind wanting to feel him with her again, wanting to feel Jean, wanting them both with her at her end. Her body was not cooperating. She hurt. Even his touch brought pain with the pleasure, even his kiss brought a surge of fire both good and bad.
"Can I have you one last time, cher? Can I? Would it hurt too much?" He was already unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it from beneath her cheek so that her flesh warmed his own.
"René … I …. " She hurt. She hurt a lot. But she also wanted to feel. She was so deadened by painkillers that she thought she could never feel again, that she would be drugged for her remaining days and be forced to live either a half-focused, fuzzy life or one of intense pain at the merest touch.
René continued; he forced himself out of his shirt, and with almost trembling hands he unfastened his jeans. It was tearing him up inside to do this. Yes, he wanted her, he rarely was around her when he didn't want her, but that was not why he was doing this, all but forcing himself on her.
Liv was too weak to resist at all, her all-but-lifeless limbs wrapped around him, unmoving. She wanted René …. she wanted Jean … she wanted to stay with them, she wanted to love them, she wanted to feel love from them … she didn't want to die. But neither did she want to exist in that undead vortex of vampirism. She didn't want to spend a few more years with her lovely boys only to spend eternity in Hell apart from them. She had been strong about it, and considering her many years as lover, friend, and companion to them, she had to resist the temptation to stay longer so that she could have a joyous, heavenly eternity with them later. She looked to the future instead of the now. It was so difficult, particularly now with René's hands and mouth on her, to keep that foremost in her mind, that logical string which kept her focused on eternity instead of the present.
René was not as focused, not as strong as she was, but he could feel her turmoil, her regret at leaving Jean. He could feel her heart breaking for their lost years together. He could feel more and more how much she loved Jean, how much she wanted to be with him, how she knew that her time in heaven would be spent waiting for him and wanting him. It made no sense to René. Why was she letting her fear of what might happen prevent her from being with the man that she loved? He couldn't let them both exist for possibly centuries apart and alone and agonizing for the loss of the other. His heart was breaking for them. In his own happiness with Baby now, he knew the joy and fulfillment of being so joined in heart and mind and body. He knew that they both needed that joy, they both deserved it. His heart was breaking for them, for what they were losing, for time wasted apart, for the lonely nights and empty hearts they would suffer.
He shifted over her, his lips drinking in her warmth for the last time, his hands caressing her bare skin, warm and welcoming and entirely too close to death. The decision he made in that moment of love and pain took but seconds to make, even though he knew the repercussions for it could shatter his consort and alienate him from his sire and family. It didn't matter. He would accept punishment, any punishment would be worth it. He knew what he was doing, however wrong, would keep Jean from a lifetime of loneliness aching for the woman who had so filled his life with joy and love.
His kisses trailed to her neck, the scent of her blood filling his nostrils and giving him courage as he whispered across her ear. "Cher? Are you sure you do not want to stay with us?"
"René …" she gasped, his lips driving her to distraction amongst the pleasure-pain of his touch. "I want a joy-filled eternity, not a sorrow-filled one. It's so hard, René. It's hard to leave you. It's hard to leave my Jean." Her heart clinched tightly. "Jean. Can I have Jean? René … call him. Please."
He trembled, still unsure of what he was doing, but the vision of his brother broken and in agony was clear in his head. "No, cher, you are mine for now." Tears welled up in his eyes as his face shifted into ridges and sharp teeth that she could neither see nor feel. "Jean's turn will come. You will be together always." His lips moved to hers, frequent, short kisses spurring her hunger for him and distracting her from what he was doing. He bit into his tongue, letting his mouth fill with blood before he pressed his lips to hers again and released the flood of crimson into her. She struggled beneath him, not liking it, not wanting it. She had never drunk from either of them. They had both tasted her many times over the years, but she had never even been curious about the taste of their blood, even in their most intense and passionate times together. She held it in her mouth, trying not to swallow it, but René was unyielding about it, keeping his lips closed tightly to hers so that she could not spit it out. He hurt inside, his very spirit filled with regret and sorrow at what he was doing. His own love for her screamed at him to let her go, his heart and mind arguing to keep her here. But one thought kept him going, repeating over and over in his head … for Jean … for Jean … an insistent reminder of why he was doing this, why he was torturing her, why he was hurting her and forcing this life on her when she did not want it. For Jean. He prayed that one day she would understand and forgive him, that Jean would understand why it had to be this way, that God would forgive him for murdering this innocent he loved in her last hours, why he had to risk her and his own eternity in heaven. For Jean.
He slipped a gentle hand to her face, stroking her cheek before covering her nose so that she could no longer breathe without swallowing the mouthful of blood first. His lips left hers, his broken whispers of regret and sorrow and apology ringing in her ears. "I'm so sorry, cher. I love you; I love him more. He can't survive without you now. Je suis desolè, m'petite, I'm so sorry." His lips covered hers once again. It took only seconds. She was too weak to fight it.
As she swallowed, she let out a stifled cry against René's now urgent mouth, his fanged kiss engulfing her again. As she gasped for more breath, he moved across her cheek, sprinkling tiny kisses of affection and adoration on her skin as he moved silently to her ear. He breathed in her sweet scent one last time and whispered to her. "I love you, Liv, but I have to do this … for him. For Jean. You are his. You must always be his." He kissed her cheek then sank his fangs into her throat over his own mark, drawing her hot blood into him at a dizzying and ruthless pace while his mind screamed at him to stop. He was trapped. She had left him no choice but this. For Jean. René couldn't bear the thought of his beloved brother being alone. Jean needed her. They needed each other. The gates of Heaven could wait for them both and when the time came Jean & Liv could arrive together, hand in hand, in joy and celebration … but for that happiness, René had to pay the price now. He had to force on this wonderful, amazing woman the thing she feared, the thing she did not want. He had to make himself take from her what she was clinging so desperately to. Her life. He had to risk his own redemption. For Jean. Tears streamed down his face mingling with her blood, making it salty and bitter in his mouth. Her sweet, sweet blood now tinged with bitterness and regret. God in Heaven he hurt for her, for what he was stealing from her. For Jean.
Jean woke up suddenly, her silent scream ringing in his ears. His companion. His love. He was airborne, running toward the bedroom, yelling. "René! No!! Stop!!" He found the door locked and began pounding and beating on it frantically, trying to get in, trying to stop him before it was too late. He could feel her heart slowing; weak as she already was, there was little time.
"René …… no …… noooooo." Her weak and whimpering voice could not stop him as he drained her life away. His heart ached as she struggled for life beneath him. He could feel her sense of betrayal, her fear, her pain. For Jean. He was doing this for Jean. He felt her heart slowing, straining for another beat, clinging to life. He released her, his own cry of agony shattering the air as he released her and felt her life fading away.
"René!! Nooooooooooo!" Jean smashed himself into the hard, English oak, trying to break through the heavy door that had been built to protect her from violent coastal storms, not trap her inside with one. Panic, desperation and her quiet cries drove him into the door over and over again until the lock finally gave way. Jean dove at his brother, throwing René across the room with such force that the impact made a sickening, bone-crushing sound. René cowered in the corner, sobbing. "Je suis désolé, je suis si désolé. J'ai dû. I had to. Je suis si désolé."
Jean gathered Olivia into his arms, holding her desperately to him, begging her to stay with him, kissing her tears, her cheeks, her trembling, blood-stained lips.
"Jean …" He felt her heart stop and her last breath release into the air. Then silence.
Jean looked at his brother desperately, an unspeakable agony written across his face. René lay crumpled on the floor, tears streaming down his tortured face mingling with the blood on his lips. Her blood. Olivia's blood.
Jean looked back to her and began licking the traces of blood from her throat, trying in vain to seal the wounds that stole the last moments of her life away. He was too late. He collapsed, sobbing and shattered, over her lifeless body. She was gone. His brother had taken her from him.
End of Part One. Click here for Part Two.
November 21, 2019
The strong will never fall
But watching stars without you
My soul cries
Heaving heart is full of pain
Oooh, oooh, the aching
'Cause I'm kissing you, oooh
I'm kissing you, oooh
Jean was visibly moved, and René watched the exchange as if he were a voyeur watching a couple in the throes of lovemaking …. fascinated, aroused, and as if he was intruding.
Touch me deep, pure and true
Give to me forever
'Cause I'm kissing you, oooh
I'm kissing you, oooh
Where are you now
Where are you now
'Cause I'm kissing you
I'm kissing you, oooh
That same night
October 1, 2006
I'm kissing you, oooh