From: Lore8132 

	This is sort of mushy and romantic rather than adult fiction.  That's what
I wanted it to be, but I started watching "The King and I" and  "Hello
Dolly!" and that was it.  My intended smut became mushy romance.  So, I
decided to drop it off on the main list.  
	It's Cerk Perk so anyone with that sort of archive who doesn't retch can
archive it there. It will of course be in the mansion.
	
	DISCLAIMERS: I don't own them, someone else does. I don't make any money
off  this I do it for sheer pleasure.   So don't sue me  -- I'm a broke
ex-college student and I haven't got anything you'd want.  

Chocolates on the Pillow (01/02)

	"Have a good vacation, Trace." Natalie called as Tracy stalked down the
hall. She passed Natalie without so much as a glance and disappeared up the
stairwell. Natalie looked at Nick who was staring to long at her
bloodsamples.  "Nick, what's with Tracy?"
	"Reese is forcing her to take a vacation.  He says she works too long and
too hard."
	"Well, that  doesn't explain why she's so angry."
	"He told her she was going to grow grew hairs everywhere if she didn't
relax."
	Natalie chuckled, untying her hair from the scarf.  "Well, how about dinner."
	Nick eyed her.  "Are you offering, because I'm starved?"
	She threw her pen at him.  "I was thinking Chinese."
	Nick shrugged.  "Sounds good.  There's that gorgeous waitress at  "Golden
Dawn". How 'bout there?"

	Tracy leaned up against her bike, looking around.  She really didn't feel
lke going home.  The captain might think it was absolutely impossible that
she might not be a shreaking violet.  She might actually be able to carry
her own.  She might --
	She smiled despite her raging inner monologue.   Rubbing her eyes she
laughed out loud.  Okay - she was cracking up.  All right -- she did need a
vacation.  The real problem was deciding what to do now.  She didn't feel
like tagging along with  her friends to Miami like they'd begged her too,
she -did not- want to go see her parents  -- and sitting around in her
apartment for two and half weeks didn't sound like much fun.
	BECAUSE -- if he weren't such moron she wouldn't be pissed at him.  He he
weren't so arrogant and stiff, she would be curled around him in bed about
now. And she wouldn't be sitting in a parking lot be pissed at him. She'd
-know- what she was going to do for her vacation.
	She sighed.
	"C'mon Trace.   This is a big city - a big world. There's got to be
-something- to do."  She pulled on her leather gloves, and put on her
helmut, lost in thought. 
	It was only  nine thirty by the time she got to her apartment.  She opted
for a fast shower and a half hour rap session with herself  about  buying
some new clothes as she shited through smart cocktail dreses and pantsuits.
 Sighing, she sat on her bed , wrapped in a towel, staring at the sizeable
pile of crappy clothes next to her.  And that's when she saw it.
	It had caught her eye just after she graduated from the academy.    It was
 wearing a mannequin in the front window of  the  Starlite Boutique on
Yonge.  She had stared at it for several moments before running into the
store to try it on.
	It fit perfectly.  That was when she decided that was such a thing as fate
- only it liked to screw around with her. She'd never really had the time
or opportunity to wear it  - and she'd forgotten about it.  
	She stood slowly, and ran her hands down the clear plastic that it was
encased in.  
	Dreamily, she unwrapped it.
	Yeah - this is exactly what she needed to figure ot her life.   A wild
night of drinking, dancing, strange men, stranger places and early mornings.
	She laughed out loud.
			*			*			*

	Lacroix surveyed the crowd, feeling more bored and impatient than he had
in a long time.  The crowd was having fun though, and as he watched Urs and
Alma move through the crowd he saw that all the population of  his bar was
enjoying themselves.  
	Miklos, who had been staring at Lacroix or several moments, kept cleaning
the same six inch spot on
the bar he had been  since Lacroix sat down.  When Lacroix noticed the
bartender, he laughed. "What's wrong with you?"
	"I was about to ask you the same thing.  Are you leaving?"
	"I should think not - that weasely little man from the Sun is coming in to
review the bar tonight.  I'm afriad I have to be here." he paused.  "God I
hate him."
	"That's not what I meant."  When Lacroix just looked at him, Miklos
continued.  "Are you leaving?"
	He caught on this time. He shook his head briefly, and turned away to face
the crowd.  As he took a sip of wine he couldn't deny that he couldn't
possibly leave with things as they were now. There were too many lose
ends-- to many things left to do.
	Of course, things as they were right now weren't so perfect were they.
She's too pig-headed , to strong willed to . . . she was too much of a
modern female.
	She questioned him, did whatever she pleased regardless of his wishes,
made him bend to her will at least half the time.  
	Lacroix smiled.  He loved it, that was undeniable.
	But this time she'd gone to far.  He can't be excepted to hang around here
for the rest of his eternity just because she isn't willing to come with
him.  He would live forever - he could have thousands of women, she knew
that.  And yet she'd flat out refused all that he offered her. She
-wouldn't- come with him.  
	At all.
	He poured himself somemore wine and stopped dead.
	He stared at the door - just as almost every other man had.

	She was brillant.  
	Coming down the stairs, she smiled seductively at almost all the men she
passed.  She tossed her head and stood tall as she moved through them,
making her way to the bar.   Lacroix smiled.  She was fabulous.
	A dress of fabric so red - it looked delicious.  Her hair, smooth and
sleek moved like liquid gold in the club lighting.  Her face was relaxed,
sensual and enticing -- he found himself unable to look away.  It was the
dress -- it had to be.  It was short, showing off a pair of  legs  that
could make you cry.  It cinched her waist in a mock corset  that showed off
curves most women had to pay for, and it dipped dangerously low to show off
 nice cleavage and more of  her perfectly pale skin.  
	Lacroix found himself wanting to laugh. She was too perfect for words.
She was gorgoues,  smiling and --- she was Tracy.
	He had known all along of course - but it hadn't set in until the moment
she sat at the other end of  the bar.   This was the young  . . . gorgeous
. . . nicely endowed woman that  -- that was making him just about drool.
	Now he did laugh.  He was acting like a mindles college boy.  Not that she
wasn't worth it.  She was far to luscious to waste on some drooling mortal
man who'd fall asleep after a few moments.  She need a drooling vampire who
didn't need to sleep.
	He laughed again as he stood up.  He succintly put down his wine glass.
That was enough of that.
			
	Tracy spun around in her chair to look  over the club.  She felt
wonderful. People were staring  -- but they were staring in that good way.
She felt beautiful, she felt contented - but most importantly she felt
alive.  	She was hoping that by some lucky chance he wasn't there, she
didn't want to see him.  She didn't want to come here at all, but Urs and
Vachon wouldn't meet her anywhere else.  Of course, she could see through
their little plan like you could through a giant picture window -- but she
still came.
	She wanted to go out, damnit.  She wanted to dance, she wanted to go crazy
for a little while. "Our prime years are few and fast." Natalie had said
once.  So true, so true.  Vachon and Urs had finally seen here and were
making their way over. "Can we go now? I don't want to to stay here very
long."
	"C'mon Trace -- just talk to him.  Just  sit down and --"
	"And what? Chat? Please. I've said all I have to say to that blood
sucking, arrogant, holier-than-thou piece of --"
	"Cake."
	Trace stood up quickly, with her back to the new voice that invaded the
conversation.  She cleared her throat, threw her purse over her shoulder,
and said a little too loudly,  "Look -I'm- leaving. You can come with me if
you want. If not, screw you too."
	She stalked off.
	The trio of vampires stared after her for a few moments.  Vachon looked at
Lacroix.  "Sorry man, we tried."
	"Indeed.  I told you not to bother. That woman is as impossible as --"
	"You." Vachon interjected.  Lacroix stared at him. Vachon laughed.  "You
gotta love her."
	Lacroix sighed.  "Yes. Yes you do."

end part one.

Carly


From: Lore8132 

Chocolates on the Pillow (02/02)
by, me

	Tracy was pissed.  
	And at times like this -- all dressed up and no where to go -- she needed
truffles.   And a lot of them.
She stopped and looked around -- what was the closest shop . . . 
	A  honking  car disrupted her concentration.  'Tracy!"
	"Nat! Nat? What are you doing here?"
	Natalie pulled over and opened her car door.  "Get in. I'm going to
'Strange Brew'."
	Tracy laughed.  "Perfect. I need truffles."
	Natalie laughed. "You had that kind of night too, huh?"
	Tracy tugged the dress down and nodded.  "I didn't have any kind of night.
 Vachon and Urs tried to ambush me into talking to Lucien.  I don't think
so.  I've had it."
	Natalie had been nodding while Tracy spoke.  "You don't have to tell me.
I've been putting up witht their crap for years."
	"You're a stronger woman than I am." Tracy said.  Natalie laughed suddenly
as they pulled into the parking lot.  "What?"
	" I was reading that billboard there -- 'You've come a long way, baby.'
And what are we doing - stereotypically going for chocolate because our men
pissed us off. How far have we -really- come?"
	"Well, really far - before we would have had to ask permission."
	"To go out for chocolate?"
	"That - and to be angry in the first place."
	
	The inside of  "Strange Brew" looked like a bus load of  Deadheads self
destructed - but it was undeniable that they made the single best desserts
in all of  Toronto.  Tracy and several of her fellow officers had a
sneaking suspiscion that  there were more -- organic-- ingredients in them
than normal. But their truffles were to die for.  
	As they stared at the display case, the girl behind the counter drummed
her fingers on the counter.  "Can I help you ladies?"
	"Yeah, can I have that six piece truffles thing, a large coke(tm), and uh
. . . . oooh, some of  that  cheesecake there."
	"The chocolate covered stuff?"
	"Yeah. And to go, please."
	Natalie looked at her. "To go? Wherea re you going?"
	"-We're- going to my place.  I've got A Clockwork Orange on DVD. We've got
some major chocolate happening here. I say we get caffienated up and go
watch some vintage Malcolm McDowell."
	Natalie nodded. "Yes! Marvelous idea. I could go for  a bit of the
ultra-violent, as long as he prances around in that mock jock strap for a
few hours."
	Tracy laughed as she collected her order and waited for Natalie.

*		*		*

	"Truffles."
	"How many, sir?"
	Lacroix stood there, staring at the display case.  "Um . . . . give me a
box full. That box there."
	"Sure. That'll be $20 bucks."
	Lacroix paid, and as he stepped outside he prayed to Zeus for this to
work.  That damned Spaniard was right of course, he did love her, no matter
how he tried to deny it since they hadn't been talking.  But he missed
sleeping all day in her big, velvet  covered bed.   He missed meeting her
after work,  sneaking into the shower with her and  renting as many silly,
stupid vampire movies as they could.  
	 For the first time in his life -he- was going to appologize.  He just
hoped that it worked.

	" . . and at any moment something terrible's going to happen to me . . . "
	Tracy and Natalie laughed as the young McDowell's face hit the plate of
spaghetti.   In front of them on the coffee table was  a half eaten
chocolate covered cheescake, a plate of  wrappers that once contained a
bakers dozen truffles, and four  almost empty bottle of coke(tm). Both of
them sat slouching on the couch, Natalie's jeans unbuttoned and Tracy in
her tried and true sweat pants, neither moving to much.
	"Oh god . . . I'm never eating again."  Natalie said, making a feeble
attempt at sitting up.  
	Trace laughed. "How about some Kaluha?"
	Natalie waved her hand. "Please, please -- no more food. No more liquid,
no more food, no more nothing."
	"Good, because I can't get enough anyway." Tracy groaned.  "I'm never
eating chocolate again."
	"Uh-huh." Natalie laughed.  As completely sutffed as she was, she felt
oddly felt enerized. Her blood wanted to run  at light speed around the
block, but her body couldn't move.  Neither of them could.
	That was, of course, until they heard a window in the back of Tracy's
apartment opening.  Finding some second wind, they both shot off the couch
and ran to Tracy's bedroom fully armed with a base ball bat and Tracy's
.45.   They crowded together near the  door, and Natalie laughed quietly.
"You realize it's probably Lacroix, right?"
	"Nah, even he's not thick headed enough to come here."
	Tracy mouthed the count down "3 . . . 2 . . . 1" And she kicked open ther
door.  "I should have known."
	"Is Nata - Nat! Where'd you go? I was waiting for you at The Raven."
	"Talk about thickheaded." Natalie said to Tracy.  She turned her attention
to Nick.  "What are you doing here?"
	"I followed the scent of  truffles and cheescake up here." He paused.
"And I saw your car parked out front."
	"Of course. Well, what do you want?"
	Nick cleared his throat and Tracy nodded.  "Well, I think I'm getting a
litle tired.  I think I'm going to turn in for the night."
	Natalie eyed her, suspisciously.  "Traitor."  She said.  "C'mon Nick, I
feel like jitterbugging."
	Tracy laughed out loud.  "You might want to purge first Nat. That's quiet
a binge to be leaving on the dancefloor."
	Natalie turned and looked at Tracy.  "You'll pay for this you know."
	Tracy nodded, but didn't speak until Nick disappeared around the corner.
"Yeah, I'll pay for it dearly when you make me wear a sea-foam green
bridesmaids dress."
	Natalie punched her, a little less than playfully and closed the door with
a smile.  
	Tracy sighed at the door and turned to clean up the mess, when there was
another knock on the door.  "You'll have to sing for you supper, Natalie.
After that little punch I'm keeping the cheesecake." She wrenched opend the
door in mock exasperation. Her act ended instantly   "You're not Natalie."
	"I had noticed that, yes."
	"What do you want?"
	"What do you think?" 
	She nodded curtly and stepped aside so he could enter the room.  He looked
around briefly and Tracy inwardly laughed at how lost he looked.  Good lord
he was cute. She erased the smile before he turned to look at her again.   
	"I came to appologize. I came to do whateve it would take to have you
forgive me."  He let out in one unbroken sentence.  
	Tracy stared.  " You came to applogzie.  -You- came to applogize.  You." 
	"Is that so hard to believe?" He asked as she walked passed him waving her
hand.	
	She whirled around on him. "Yes! Yeas it is hard to believe, Lucien.  You
-never- admit you're wrong."
	"I am now."
	"It's a little late, don't you think?"
	"Are you dying?"
	She blinked.  "I'm sorry?"
	"Are you dying? Are you going away? Are you about to disappear without a
trace?"
	"Of course not. I--"
	"Then, it's not too late."  His eyes locked on hers.  "I'm sorry, Tracy.
For everything."  He finished quietly, not looking away from her.  
	Tracy just stared back. Not quite believing what she was seeing. Here was
a man eighty times her age, who had seen and done just about everything you
can on Earth, standing in her apartment applogizing for getting made
because she wouldn't let him bring her across.  He was applogizing.
	She had to let that part sink in. The fact that he was old, she knew.  The
fact that he had sucked dry more people than she would ever met in her
lifetime, she knew.  That fact that he would continue too, she accepted.
But his appologizing?
	Impossible.
	And yet here he was.
	He smiled. "I even come bearing gifts to appease."  He produced a long,
flat white box from his coat.
	She focused on it . . . and began to laugh.
	At fist he was confused, until his eyes slowly trailed to the table.  He
exhaled, showing his defeat.  Well, that was messed up to.  He almost
wanted to laugh. His first attempt at appologizing to a mortal girlfriend
had just collapsed miserably.
	And then he felt her arms around him.   She was still smiling, her silent
laughter shaking her body.  When she gasped for air, she drew back to look
at him. "Only you." She laughed again, coughing to try and stop.  "Only you
would fail so miserably and still win."
	He crushed her to him.  "You forgive me?"
	"Do you forgive me?"
	He laughed, catching her face to kiss her.

	After a long silence, he drew back to look at her.  "Does this mean you'll
come with me?"
	She shrugged.  "I'll say no now -- but ask me again when things start
sagging."  She winked at him.
	Lacroix laughed and closed the bedroom door behind them.

	Fini


Attention ladies and gentlemen of  the  Dark Perkdom.  Your stewardess is
distributing air sickness bags presently.  Please try to hold back your
spewage until equipped with a bag. That'd be a mighty mess to clean up. 
	And please forgive me.  I was all mushy. Pink roses, heart scribbled on
the back of reticket receipts and everything. I thinks it's gone now -- but
I'm not promising anything ;) 

	Flames, trains and automobiles can be sent to 


	carly  



Lore8132 

The Dark Perkulator Mansion : http://welcome.to/dpmansion

DP's send your stories to  : lilandre@WitchesBrew.zzn.com

" . . . there's whiskey in the jar-o  . . . "

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