Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 12:38:49 -0400
To: vampyres@THE-INSTITUTE.NET
Subject: Vampyres: Fluff: The Electric Vampire--an answer to Elite
Baron Gideon Redoak rose from his bed, neatly refolding the lovely white
comforter with the entwined hearts on it that had been a wedding gift.
He automatically turned on the bedside lamp even though he did not need
the light to see his way to the bathroom. Over the years, it had become
an ingrained habit--learned behaviour from sharing a bedroom with a man
who had no night vision to speak of. Gideon turned the bathroom light
on, too, repressing his wince as the vanity mirror failed to show him
his reflection.
He ran himself a bath, the hot water fogging up the mirror, and
luxuriated in the sensation of being squeaky clean. He rubbed his jaw
even though he had no need to shave unless he chose to grow a beard,
and shut the still-unreflecting mirrored door on the cupboard full of
Josh's shaving paraphenalia, nearly catching the cord in the door.
Once dressed in freshly-ironed shirt and slacks, the dapper Baron made
his way down the well-lit stairs to the main floor. Cooking smells
assaulted his sensitive nose and he followed them to the kitchen, where
Joshua was stirring some concoction on the stove while Evan was tackling
a roast ham with the electric carving knife.
Mitch was opening various cans of food for the impatiently waiting small
animals, the can opener whirring as an accompaniment to the whine of the
carving knife.
Gideon helped himself to a glass of his special stock from its
refrigerated compartment, allowing it to warm up in the microwave while
he watched. He had never quite lost his suspicion that these
new-fangled devices were going to blow up.
The foursome, minus the noisily gobbling animals, moved into the
informal dining room where they consumed their dinner under the
sparkling chandalier. When it had been eaten and the dishes put into
the dishwasher, the master of the house and his young assistant werewolf
went into the downstairs office to do some serious work.
Mitch fired up the computers, sent faxes, and answered e-mail while the
Baron read over his stock reports and studied the trends on his own
computer. He e-mailed his broker, dictated a few more faxes to his
assistant, and answered some personal e-mail.
Evan ran a vacuum around the house, generally tidying up, wishing that
Gideon would allow them to hire a housekeeper. Josh had retired to his
own office and computer to run over some client lists, update himself on
the latest auctions and other interesting news from the antiques world,
and to phone a few friends.
Finally, all the business taken care of, the occupants of Oakwoods
gathered in the games room to watch a television programme and play
Scrabble (tm) under the soft lights.
Eventually tiring of the game, the residents split up. Mitch went up to
play a computer game, Evan decided to work out in his weight room, and
Gideon and Josh were left looking at each other over the abandoned
Scrabble (tm) Board.
"I have the letters "B, E, D," left," Josh noticed. "What can you make
with those?"
Gideon's eyes twinkled. "Bed?" he asked with a very suggestive lilt in
his voice.
"What a wonderful idea."
Hands entwined, the couple made their way upstairs, back to the bedroom
Gideon had departed several hours earlier. They left clothes and shoes
in heaps on the floor and snuggled together under the warmth of the
comforter.
"Since I won the game with my last three letters, I get to play first
this round," Josh said with a wicked grin.
Gideon's response was to reach over and switch off the bedside lamp.
some things were better in the dark.
_________
so, that answer your question, Elite? *grin*
Scrabble (tm) is a registered trademark of Parker Bros or Milton Bradley
or somebody.
===================================================================
BARON GIDEON REDOAK, fraser@library.utoronto.ca
"He was a white hand, a rouged mouth, a glass eye, a set of white teeth
and a cold heart. He was a pedestrian who walked the nights. ... He was a
leaf, a pelt, a flame, a wing." "The Undead Die" by E. Everett Evans.
Oakwoods home page: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/3743/
Centre Stage: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Studios/2183/
My Other Home Page: http://members.tripod.com/~Anne_F/index.html