It's Kristen with a tiny bit o'fic to inaugurate me entry into the realm of Dark Perkdom.
If the urge should take her, Carly has my permission to archive this at the DP site .
Disclaimer: The characters of 'Forever Knight' belong to various heartless people who are not me. This is set before 'Trophy Girl', but in the alternate universe of the Dark Perkulators .
Keeping It Dark
Kristen
"One cannot be good all the time. In fact, why would one even want to try? To waste the energy that is so necessary to living as one wishes on living according to the wishes of others? This is futility. What we must do then, is to concentrate on pleasing ourselves, on doing what makes us content. And if this means abandoning our paltry codes of behavior, why hesitate? Listen to the Nightcrawler, children. Give up your inhibitions, for they are only that. A way to keep you locked inside yourself, and should you go for too long that way, you may never be able to recover what you have lost. Live, children. Live as though your life depends upon it."
Tracy Vetter turned off her radio and walked slowly to her bedroom, thinking about what she'd just heard. Despite being disturbed by the Nightcrawler when she heard him in Nick's caddy, she loved listening to him when she was alone. His voice seemed to fall out of the air and into the shadows inside of her, the dark place that she had tried so long to expel. During school, she had run with a bad crowd, at least in the opinion of her father. She had brought home her boyfriend, a tall young man with tattoos and a radical outlook on politics. One look at him and Commissioner Vetter had sent his darling daughter to an all-girls high school.
With a sigh, Tracy sat down on the edge of her bed, letting her eyes rest on her open closet. Demure blouses, nice slacks, structured jackets, and sensible shoes. Not a single tight little skirt or low-cut shirt. No spike heels, no thigh-highs, no platforms. The closet of a woman with no excitement in her life, no chance of a wild night or two. Except…once in college, she and her sorority sisters had decided to buy some wild clothes, just to be a little crazy.
Rummaging through the boxes hidden behind her shoe rack, Tracy pulled out a shiny blue box labeled 'U of T Stuff'. Yanking off the top, she took out several college sweaters before finding it. Raising it high in her hands, Tracy let the memories come back with the smile. Tonight she'd wear this to the Raven, the consequences bedamned.
* * *
Lucien LaCroix leaned against the bar lazily, watching the patrons of his club as they danced and socialized. Well, gyrated and socialized was more like it; LaCroix had been alive for two thousand years, yet never had dancing been so under appreciated as an art form as in these last few decades. He was contemplating the grace of the waltz and minuet when Nicholas's partner strolled in. 'Interesting', the vampire noted. 'I didn't expect her to be so…liberal'. Liberal was a kind word for it.
The young homicide detective was dressed in tight leather pants and a dark pink top made out of what may have been lycra. She looked more like a hired assassin than a police officer.
LaCroix wasn't the only one who had noticed the woman's appearance. Not by a long shot in fact, but one patron in particular seemed to be riveted.
"You know her?" It was a rhetorical question; most of the community knew about Javier Vachon's peculiar connection to Tracy Vetter, LaCroix being no exception.
Vachon barely acknowledged him, preferring instead to waver between drooling and utter confusion. Tracy made a bee line-straight to him, unconsciously sandwiching herself between him and the oldest vampire in Toronto. She leaned over the counter and ordered a gin and tonic.
Her drink was delivered promptly with a little pink umbrella in it, which she handed to Vachon. He took it absently, still staring openly.
"You know what I hate?" Tracy sipped from the glass and looked at Vachon expectantly.
He shrugged.
"I hate being stared at when I'm dressed to kill."
Vachon opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to say. Tracy took advantage of his slack-jawed state by kissing him full force, her tongue gliding into his mouth easily.
LaCroix watched with amusement as the younger vampire's eyes widened in complete shock, then closed in pleasure. This girl was interesting.
Tracy pulled away when she heard the rumbling growl of the predator begin in Vachon's throat. "Meet me outside," she whispered into his ear, then stalked out of the smoky club, leaving a very bemused but turned-on vampire gazing after her.
"Well," Lucius queried gently. Vachon swiveled his gaze to the blond man. "Are you going or not?"
Vachon chewed on his lip in thought for the space of about three seconds before rising quickly and heading out after Tracy.
LaCroix stared after him for a moment, then ordered a glass of special vintage for himself. If that Spaniard didn't recognize Miss Vetter's potential, perhaps he could do something to rectify the situation. The pain it would cause Nicholas aside, he liked women who knew how to keep it dark.
Comments to kristen1@utkux.utcc.utk.edu