Date: Wed, 21 Feb 1996 15:16:29 -0400
From: Pandora 
Subject: [VAMPYRES] FLUFF:  Shades of Gray, part 41 of 45

Greetings Children:

For those of you who wondered, whatever happened to that long 
tale about aliens and vampires and healing rituals...well, we're
back.  And it's just about finished. (Only took a year or so...*grin*).
These last sections, up to part 45 (the end *is* in sight...) are
lovingly dedicated to our co-conspirator and merry fluffster, The
Gray Adept, who is with us in spirit, but unfortunately not in
the pen, so to speak.  With his gracious blessings the Baron and I  
finish this story and hope that those of you have been following along 
have enjoyed reading it as much as we have writing it.

The Merry Fluffsters,
Pandora
Baron Gideon Redoak
The Gray Adept (in absentia)    

* * *

Shades of Gray
Part 41
* * *
c. 1995, 1996, A. Fraser, J. Gray, L.M. Wallace
{fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca; jgra@music.stlawu.edu; wallacel@ac.dal.ca}
* * *

Two of the circle chanted in a language no one else could understand.  
These two were in strange, medieval-looking garb, and belonged to a race 
that was not, and never had been, human.  Their origin was lost in the 
mists of time, and they were not a race prone to creation myths.  They 
had simply come into being for a reason and set about fulfilling their 
task to the best of their abilities.  As for who had brought them into 
being and set the task--that they did not question.  They recognized that 
there was a greater agency at work, and some of their race had become 
priests, priestesses, ministers, rabbis or shamans of the various human 
religions, but as a race they recognized no one god or goddess.

Born out of matings of powerful urges rather than real affection, 
raised by appointed Guardians rather than biological parents, trained 
from an early age in weaponry, martial arts and the protection of others; 
this race knew no concept of family.  Their potential employers or 
clients were usually deeply involved in the occult in one way or 
another; most frequently their clients were vampires.  It was not always a good 
idea to become too emotionally attached to one's employer.

However, the two representatives of this mysterious race who lived in 
Fletcherville were slightly atypical.  It was rare that one of them 
remained with the same employer for over two hundred years, as Evan had 
done.  He and Gideon had weathered much adversity together, and shared 
some good times as well as some bittersweet memories.  Evan was a member 
of a family, whether he realized it or not, and this ritual he was 
partaking in had made him realize it.  He'd die before he left Gideon 
and the other members of the Oakwoods household.  Mitch was like a 
brother to him, he who had several brothers but felt no closeness to any 
of them.  Joshua... he was special, and so good for Gideon.  Those two 
had a relationship that was better than many "normal" relationships Evan 
had observed...

And Genevieve was an old friend.  She had steered Evan in Gideon's 
direction, somehow sensing that the two were right for each other.  Evan 
owed her, which was why he was pouring his heart into this ritual when 
the elders of his kind would probably have advised him against it.  His 
thoughts, jumping around like a startled deer, flew to Darcy.  She was 
carrying his child, and it had been a union of ... love.  He loved 
Darcy.  This was unheard of among the Nameless.

While Evan was pondering these startling truths, Mrs. Jenkins was 
looking at her own two charges.  She was fond of both the Goldaniases, 
although they'd both bitterly disappointed her.  She was more of a den 
mother than a protector, and the day she'd realized what had happened 
between Alex and Janine, she had taken her slipper to them both.  It 
hadn't solved anything, but it had made her feel a bit better.  She knew 
that something had to seperate these two before they killed each other.  
Janine was going to have to leave Valley Mansion.  If only Brier hadn't 
left Alex!  Mrs. Jenkins couldn't blame Brier, she wouldn't have put up 
with the Count's dark moods if she was a vivacious young woman either; 
but Alex had sunken badly since she had gone.  Turning his cousin had 
only been one symptom of how far down he'd gone.  He had to be 
constantly watched to make sure he did no harm to himself or others...

Mrs. Jenkins cared about him.  About them.  She was more than a 
Guardian, she was family.  She cared about Genevieve, and Gideon, and 
even Ray Griffin,.. and good heavens, why had he suddenly appeared stark 
naked....?


Date: Wed, 21 Feb 1996 15:17:14 -0400
From: Pandora 
Subject: [VAMPYRES] FLUFF:  Shades of Gray, Part 42 of 45


Shades of Gray
Part 42
* * *
c. 1995, 1996, A. Fraser, J. Gray, L.M. Wallace

{fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca; jgra@music.stlawu.edu; wallacel@ac.dal.ca}

* * *

Jean de la Mare watched the ceremony closely, wishing he could hold 
Genevieve's hand.  He was frightened and lonely, so afraid of losing his 
dearest friend, his bloodmistress, his lover...

The drumbeat sounded like footsteps.  Running.  Running...

They were after him!  They had been hunting him for days, until he no 
longer remembered if they were the Hugenots and he the Catholic or if it 
was the other way around.  Exhausted, soaked with rain and sweat, 
bleeding badly from a sword wound, the despairing Frenchman had taken 
refuge in a deserted chateau.

Except that it was not deserted.

He had heard a noise and struggled to conciousness, fearing rats.  
Instead he saw an angel, and fainted again.

He woke desperately in love, maddeningly hungry, and a vampire.  There 
had been no other choice, Genevieve explained to him.  Not only had he 
been dying of his wound, but she was starving.  The war had driven off 
most of her usual prey.  But his looks had appealed to her and she was 
lonely... she had wanted a lover.  Jean was more than willing to supply 
the demand.

With a jolt, the Frenchman was brought back to the present.  He and 
Genevieve had a very special relationship, he realized.  They could love 
each other without having to possess each other.  As she forgave him his 
frequent philanderings with other females, so he should be equally 
magnamanous when she met men.  He did not own her--who _could_ own 
Genevieve?  Claude, her sire, perhaps, but he was dead.  Jean's eyes 
sought out the masked Gray Adept.  

'Eh, bien, if she wants him, I will not stand in the way,' he thought.  
'I have been an idiot.  When she gets well, I will apologize.  To her 
and to Gideon, and even to this Adept of the Gray.  _I_ am the one who 
should be beaten.'  He hung his head, despair very close to settling in 
his heart.

But the drumming and chanting soothed his hurts, gave him hope and 
stirred his adventurer's soul.  To his surprise, he found himself 
singing.  It could not really be called chanting, yet it did not clash 
with those who were doing so.  Jean, in his surprisingly melodic voice, 
was singing one of Genevieve's favourite folk songs.

    Sur la pont D'Avignon
    Nous sommes dansons, dansons, dansons...

He sang to her and her alone, hoping the familiar words would somehow 
penetrate to that cold and lonely place she had gone...
 

Date: Wed, 21 Feb 1996 15:22:54 -0400
From: Pandora 
Subject: [VAMPYRES] FLUFF:  Shades of Gray, part 43 of 45

Shades of Gray
Part 43
* * *
c. 1995, 1996, A. Fraser, J. Gray, L.M. Wallace
{fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca; jgra@music.stlawu.edu; wallacel@ac.dal.ca}
* * *

The drum beat in a steady rhythm, underscoring the blended chanting and
singing, the ritual participants swaying to the cadence.  The Gray
Adept's rattle and anklets slithered in sympathy to the raised energy 
as he continued his earthly dance around the prone Genevieve.  Pandora
swayed and swirled, moving to the wind and restless wash of the waves
sounding in the near distance.  Overhead a sliver of moon shone
silver against the blue-black expanse of sky, sparkling with stars
and shimmering with the multi-hued Northern Lights, pulsing violet,
blue-green, grey, tangerine, rose and amber.  

Slowly a shift was felt around the circle, passing from individual
to individual, as the pulsating energy that flowed through their hands
grew dimmer and finally faded to nothing but a simple warmth. Silence
crept over the group as the singers ceased singing, and the chanters
wound down until the last voiced syllable rang in the treetops.  The
dancers ceased their restless movement, Pandora collapsing to the earth
as if all muscle tension had released in one motion.  The pulsing
drumbeat became a patter as Nicholas's hands slowed and then stilled,
the last touch of his fingertips sounding hollowly through the base
of the tambour.  

All eyes shifted expectantly to Genevieve, who still lay prone,
supported by Jean's loving arms.  At her head stood the Adept,
motionless as a statue, the seedpods around his slender ankles
drooping to the ground.  His skin glowed luminously gray in the
faint light shed from the sky, his long, thin limbs and fingers 
wavering slightly as if under water.  The ceremonial mask he had 
worn for the ceremony had been discarded, and in its place huge, 
black eyes blinked serenely at those gathered, returning their 
wondrous gazes with calmness.  As those who had participated in 
the ceremony had variously stripped their clothing, their emotions,
surrendering to the magnetic power of the healing energy and cosmic
forces unleashed by the combination and blending of magicks, so too had
the Gray Adept shed the fragile costume of his human form to stand
before them, revealed and vulnerable.  

A few gasped openly in wonder and even shock, but no one spoke nor
made a move towards him.  Michael stared in awe before finally 
catching himself and redirecting his attention to the completion of 
the ritual.  As Pandora and Ray redonned their robes, the Archdruid
uncast the circle, thanking those deities and spirits who had been
called for their blessings.  The others released hands, shifted their
feet and stretched, and when they looked back, the Adept was once again
in human form.  

Immediately Pandora joined him at Genevieve's side.  Taking his hand
in her own she squeezed it gently, reassuringly, a gesture accompanied
with the sudden fleeting scent of chamomile.  The Adept nodded and
returned the motion, bringing with it a tantalizing taste of wine
and honey, completing the circle of communication.

Genevieve opened her eyes wearily, but a faint smile contoured her
lips.  "I dreamed that you..." she started, raising her hand to
the Adept.

"Hush," he said quietly, taking her hand and raising it briefly to
his lips.  "It was not a dream."

Genevieve's blue eyes widened slightly, but otherwise she did not
show any sign of alarm.  She merely nodded and said softly, "Je
comprend. Maintenant...yes, now I understand."

"How do you feel, Gen?" Pandora asked, somewhat anxiously.  It
had been a successful ritual, she felt that in her heart and in the
peace in her body, but it might take some time to manifest fully
in the patient.

"Tired, ma chere, but...yes, it is a better kind of tired," she
said cryptically, smiling. 

"You'd best get her home to bed," Pandora directed, including Jean
and Evan in her glance.  "I'll come see you tomorrow night," she
promised Genevieve.

At that the two men quickly and efficiently took Genevieve to the
car, whilst the other participants followed behind, leaving Pandora
and Nicholas in the circle alone.  

* * *


Date: Thu, 22 Feb 1996 10:56:06 -0400
From: Pandora 
Subject: [VAMPYRES] FLUFF:  Shades of Gray, Part 44 of 45

Shades of Gray 
Part 44 
* * * 
c. 1995, 1996, A. Fraser, J. Gray,  L.M.Wallace 
{fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca; jgra@music.stlawu.edu; wallacel@ac.dal.ca} 
* * * 

Nicholas and Pandora remained standing in the circle.  The atmosphere was
hushed, expectant, the receding voices of the Brotherhood muffled by
distance and a rising mist. 

The bard stood upon the eastern spoke of the wheel, the healer on the 
western spoke.  Neither consciously recognized this fact, but as they drew 
closer together, silently, one slow step following another, a circle of 
energy seemed to surround them and bind them closer, pulling them nearer, 
sparkling and thrilling along their spines and nerve endings.  A warm breeze 
lifted their hair, caressing exposed skin with balmy tenderness.  Beneath 
their feet the ground softened, shifted, sprouting soft, green grass and 
wildflowers.  Crickets thrummed busily in the darkness while moths 
fluttered amongst silken petals seeking sweet nectar.

Blue-gray eyes locked with violet ones; fingers stretched to touch,
gently, softly, jumping slightly with electrical exchange.  The couple met
at the centre of the wheel, the ritual chalice and bone-handled blade lying 
at their feet. 

The aurora borealis shimmered and pulsed with increased intensity, waves
of blue-green and violet rippling in seeming unison, shining brightly
against the canvas of black sky, studded with stars and a sliver of silvery
crescent moon. 

A rustle of robes and the soft murmurs of the lovers wafted in the wind,
carried out to sea amidst the incessant rhythm of the waves, carried
through the tree-tops, stirring the still clinging dried, brown oak leaves, 
unshaken by winter storms. 

The healing had begun...

* * *

Date: Thu, 22 Feb 1996 11:09:38 -0400
From: Pandora 
Subject: [VAMPYRES] FLUFF: Shades of Gray, Part 45 of 45:  Epilogue


With many thanks to those who have followed this saga from the beginning
and provided feedback along the way.  Thank you for giving us an
audience.  

What a long, strange trip it's been,*

The Merry Fluffsters:
Pandora
Baron Gideon Redoak
The Gray Adept

* (From "Truckin'" by The Grateful Dead)

* * *

Shades of Gray
Part 45: Epilogue

* * *
c. 1995, 1996, A. Fraser, J. Gray, L.M. Wallace
{fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca; jgra@music.stlawu.edu; wallacel@ac.dal.ca}
* * *

"Jean!  Arret!"  Genevieve's blue eyes flashed as her ruggedly handsome 
lover shoved an expensive negligee into the open suitcase.

"Mais, Cherie..." Jean turned to her with big puppy-dog eyes.  "I am 
only trying to help."

"I am perfectly capable of packing my own clothes, especially if that is 
how you are going to treat them!"

A week after the ritual, the focus of it had been fully restored to 
glowing unlife and health.  There seemed to be no sign at all of 
the devastating condition she had fallen into after drinking the Gray 
Adept's alien blood. While being treated as a helpless invalid had been 
entertaining for awhile, it had begun to gall.  Gen was an intelligent, 
vivacious, energetic woman.  The role of La Traviata suited her badly.

"You are only going to have them all cleaned and pressed when we return 
to France," Jean pointed out.

"That is still no way to treat Dior."

"You forget, cherie, that I know exactly how _you_ treated Dior," Jean 
sulked.

Momentarily distracted, Genevieve smiled dreamily and murmured, "Cher 
Christian, how I miss him."  Then she turned furiously on the hapless de 
la Mare.  "Out!  Bete! Fou!  Tu... tu... l'HOMME!"  A high-heeled 
slipper narrowly missed Jean's head as he made his escape, laughing.

"Your aim is off," remarked a coolly amused voice from the doorway.
Gideon, obviously feeling relaxed, as he was casually dressed in an Oxford 
cloth shirt, blue slacks and a silk vest, leaned against the doorjamb.
He held up the slipper. "I'm afraid there's a slight shortage of Prince 
Charmings, will a Baron serve?"

"That is quite enough out of _you_," Gen sniffed, accepting her footwear 
back.

She began to salvage the clothes that Jean had so carelessly packed, 
muttering scathing French phrases about clothes-ignorant men under her 
breath.  Gideon watched her silently, a wistful expression on his face.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" Genevieve finally asked him.

"_Must_ you go back so soon?" the Baron inquired.

"Oui, Gideon, I must.  Ah, cherie--I have been away far too long.  My 
chateau, the little cousins, my poor cat!  All need me."

"I need you, too."

"No, mon fils, you do not."  She patted his hand.  "Here you have your 
friends, your household... Joshua.  You do not need _me_. I can never 
repay you all for what you have done for me, but I must go home."  She 
bent and kissed him on the cheek.  "Come and visit me this summer," she 
said.

"Yes, all right. But it seems as if you are barely recovered, and you 
are leaving."

"I am fine."  She reached out and hugged him, then did something that 
she had always wanted to do:  ruffled his hair, tweaked his nose and 
tickled him mercilessly.

Joshua, passing by the Rose Room, was astounded to hear shrieks of 
helpless laughter from his lover.

* * *

"I'm sorry you're leaving."  Ray again occupied the Adept's saucer, 
running his eyes over the various artifacts kept there.  "I've really 
enjoyed your company."

"And I yours," the Adept assured him.  "You did very well during the 
ritual."

"I think I shocked Mrs Jenkins," the ex-sorcerer chuckled.  He paused.  
"I saw Them, you know.  I saw the Light.  Man, that sounds corny."

"But I know what you mean."  The gentle being smiled.

"Well, I guess we should be getting up to Oakwoods... you want to say 
goodbye to Genevieve, don't you?"

"I have things to say to her, yes."  The Adept paused.  "But not that.  
I hope."

* * *

All those who had participated in the healing ritual were gathered together
again in the living room of Oakwoods.  There were differences, of course--
none of them wore ritual clothing or what they perceived as the same.  There 
was no meadow, no alignment of stones, no drumming or chanting.  Instead 
of being grey and dying, Genevieve sparkled.  And the Adept was welcomed, 
enfolded into the hearts of those present.  No one looked upon him as a 
suspicious entity or a possible enemy any longer.  Ray, too, seemed more 
part of the family.

"Genevieve, it so good to see you looking so well," Pandora murmured in 
her ear as she hugged her friend closely.  It was with no small amount 
of relief that she spoke those words. The road back to personal and 
communal health and been a long and difficult one for them all.

"Merci, mon amie.  It is to you I owe so much," Genevieve replied returning
the embrace with warmth.  "You and Nicholas must come visit me...you have 
not yet seen the chateau have you?"

"No, I haven't," Pandora observed, glancing over at Nicholas who had 
overheard.  "If I can ever tear him away from the club..."

"And she from her plants..." Nicholas interjected, grinning.  "Perhaps 
in June," he suggested, placing an arm around Pandora's shoulders and 
squeezing slightly.

"June?" she echoed, glancing up at him expectantly.  While the couple was 
well on their way to healing their wounds, there were still signs of strain 
between them.  June, Midsummer's Eve, would be their first anniversary
together, and traditionally a handfasted couple would renew their
vows after a year and a day.  For the first time Pandora realized that
the decision to do so might not be as straightforward as she might
have once thought.  

"As a second honeymoon?  After we renew our handfasting vows?" Nicholas 
responded, seeking her eyes for her reaction.

Pandora smiled, lighting up said eyes with a shine that made them 
glow softly.  "That would be lovely," she said quietly, her 
voice husky with emotion.

"Oui, it certainly would," Genevieve added, her own blue eyes sparkling 
with joy at seeing the couple on their way to happiness again.  "I will 
look forward to it," she said, kissing each of them on both cheeks before 
approaching the other guests to say her farewells.

"Genevieve."  Michael, looking absurdly short next to the tall female 
vampire, hugged her warmly.  "Be well."

"I owe you much, Tadg."  She kissed him, and winked at Mary, who 
smothered a giggle.

Michael turned red.  "Nonsense.  We'd have done it for anyone."

So many people to thank... Gen had a hug and a word for each of the 
Brotherhood.  When it was Joshua's turn, she held him close.  "Look 
after my son," she whispered.  "He needs you so very badly."

"Never fear," Joshua replied.  

The Gray Adept cleared his throat somewhat nervously as he approached 
Nicholas and Pandora, who still stood closely together.  "Nicholas, ah, 
Pandora, good evening."

"Good evening, Adept," Pandora responded warmly.  

Nicholas nodded and extended his hand in greeting.  The Adept accepted 
it into his own with a firm handshake.    

"And so you're leaving as well?" the bard asked, a question which
coming from him might have sounded overly anxious, but his tone was
of genuine concern and interest.  
  
"Yes, ah, I have loose ends to tie up, so to speak," the Adept answered.  
"I hope to be able to return, however, some day in the near future..."

"And you are most welcome to visit anytime," Pandora informed him, kissing 
him lightly on the cheek.  Briefly she heard his pussywillow-soft reply at 
the base of her spine and nodded slightly, stirring a whiff of meadowsweet.
"Thank you for everything," she added aloud before stepping back.  

"Good luck to you, then, Adept," Nicholas added convivially.  "Our home 
is always open to friends," he remarked, taking Pandora's hand in his and 
returning the gentle pressure which marked her gratitude to him.

"Thank you.  And to you," the Adept looked slightly startled
but bowed graciously before moving away.  He glanced back at Pandora
who met his eyes, so like her own.  There was much that had never
been said between them, and probably never would.  But in that
brief gaze a volume of unexpressed emotions passed in a split second.
 
"Hey, man!" Francis approached the Adept with enthusiasm. "Gimme five!" 
He held up his hand, and the Adept hesitatingly slapped it. "You're okay, 
you know?" Francis grinned.

"Allow me to echo the sentiment, if not the means of expressing it,"  
Gideon said, holding out his hand.  "Adept, there aren't enough words.  
I am very sorry for the way I originally treated you.  Thank you for 
everything you did to save Genevieve."

The Adept gripped the Baron's hand.  "No need to mention either thing," 
he said, his words accented with just-opened rose petals.

"My home is yours," Gideon told him simply.

"You are welcome here," Michael added.  "Welcome.  To the Brotherhood of 
Darkness."

"About that name..." said Maggie and Pandora at the same time, as a 
shout of laughter rang in the ceiling beams.

* * *

A windswept cliff, strewn with rocks, a few hardy tufts of grass showing 
through the dirty snow.  A blonde woman, a tall, slight gray man.  What was 
said between them was taken by the wind, not for other ears to hear.  
There were tears; a hug; a kiss, rosemary-flavoured; a promise, wrapped in 
the scent of spring.

A hand raised, flashing with diamonds, faltered, lowered.  He was gone.

* * *

Finis


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