BACK TO FRASER'S FRACTURED FICTION

Sunday Night With the Brotherhood

by A. Fraser and L.M. Wallace
Part 1

© Copyright 1998 A. Fraser and L.M. Wallace. All rights reserved.

This is a serial story originally published on Ghostletters. Niamh and Nevyan (or Pandora and Nicholas) invited Jake Fowler down to visit them at Meadowsweet Ridge. The visit warranted one of the Brotherhood's frequent "kitchen parties" where they could meet Jake on informal terms. This is the story of that party.

"The 'Official Taster,' are you, Jake?" Nicholas commented with a mischievous 
grin upon entering the kitchen.

Jake, who had just popped a stuffed mushroom cap into his mouth said, "Mmph."

"You're a braver man than I," the bard observed, winking at Jake as Niamh 
stuck her tongue out at her husband.

Unperturbed, Nicholas approached her and, drawing her long, chestnut hair 
away from her neck, planted a soft kiss on the nape.

"They're good," Jake asserted, reaching for another.

"Well, if the first one doesn't kill ya..." Nicholas laughed, his violet eyes 
twinkling.

"You're asking for it, bard," Niamh growled softly, but the corners of her 
mouth tugged upwards.

"Mmm, I know, mo croidhe, but we do have company..." he responded, arms 
settling around her waist, his hands gently stroking her full belly.

Jake coughed, a faint pinkish hue creeping from his neck into his cheeks.

"It's the second that'll do you in," Nicholas smirked, looking over at Jake 
with amusement.

"Jake?" Niamh asked, looking over her shoulder at him, brows drawn
together.

"M'okay," Jake mumbled through another cough as he got a drink of water from 
the sink.

"Isn't she beautiful, Jake?" Nicholas said suddenly, tightening his arms 
around Niamh's waist.  "Barefoot, pregnant, in the kitch-- Owww!!!" he 
exclaimed, jumping back and rubbing his ribs.  "She doesn't appreciate my 
appreciation," he grumbled good-naturedly, winking at Jake.

"Hmm," Jake observed, leaning somewhat awkwardly against a counter, watching 
Niamh for her reaction.  But she just continued to bustle about, putting food 
on plates.

"I would appreciate you more if you would give me a hand," she said, glancing 
hopefully at her husband.

"Which one?" he quipped, reaching for her hips.

"This one," she said, quickly intercepting one outstretched palm with a 
platter.  "Jake, would you be a love and take this out to the deck?" she 
asked, handing over another plate filled with canapés.

"No problem," he said, taking it and hastily leaving the kitchen.

"How much stuff have you got here, Niamh?" he heard Nicholas ask. 
"Considering half of them don't eat...food."

"Better to have plenty, because you never know with Evan and his cycles," she 
responded, her voice fading away softly as Jake exited the back door.

Evan?  Jake wondered. Cycles?  This was going to be an interesting night...

He set the plate down on a table he and Nicholas had brought out, but not 
before nicking one of what looked like lobster tartlets. He didn't really 
understand why the bard teased Niamh so much about cooking--everything he had 
eaten there so far had been very good, as far as he was concerned, although 
he did notice hat Nicholas helped her out a lot.  One of their "in-jokes," he 
presumed, of which they seemed to have a number.  Sometimes he swore they 
communicated telepathically, or at the very least through look and touch. He 
didn't think he had yet seen them together without one of them touching the 
other quite frequently.  Their outward displays affection made him 
uncomfortable at times, although he wasn't absolutely sure why.  Perhaps it 
was because it made him long for something he didn't have himself.

With that thought, Jake sighed, and grabbed a beer from the rubber garbage 
can Nicholas had filled with ice.  Upon hearing the muted laughter coming 
from the kitchen he settled into a deck chair instead of going back inside, 
numbingly cold water dripping from the bottle and stirring the hairs on his 
sun-warmed hand.  The evening was extraordinarily peaceful, something it 
seemed his city senses responded to with a cry of relief.  He couldn't even 
hear any cars out on the highway, since they were set so far back from the 
road and there were so many trees and brush to absorb any noise.  Not that it 
was a busy road at the best of times, near as he could tell.  This truly was 
a haven, he thought, having heard both Nicholas and Niamh refer to it that 
way a number of times already.

Jake looked over towards the ocean where the sun's setting was casting an 
astonishing complexity of hues over the pewter surface of the water.  He 
found himself wishing that he could stay longer, as he settled deeper into 
his chair, sipping his bittersweet Guinness while he waited for the guests to 
begin arriving.

As Jake sat admiring the view, and last minute preparations made the kitchen 
of Meadowsweet Ridge an unsafe place to be, Nicholas came out to join him. Of 
course, the bard was laden with trays of goodies.

"It'll be a good time tonight, Jake," Nicholas promised.  "These parties are 
very informal, everyone will be relaxed."

"And stuffed," Jake predicted, eyeing the copious food.

"Ah, well, you never know how many appetites you're trying to feed.  And if 
there are leftovers, we can probably persuade people to take them home."

At this statement, two things happened almost simultaneously.  The sun sank 
completely out of sight, and the first car pulled up.  A sheaf of red hair, 
glowing even in the sudden summer darkness, emerged from the car followed by 
the rest of Maggie Bruce.  She carried a bottle and a photo album.

"That the good stuff, Mags?" Nicholas taunted her from his perch on the deck 
railing.

"Only the best," came back the laughing reply.  "Hello, Jake, darling! 
Enjoying yourself?"

"Immensely," Jake replied, waving his Guinness at her.

"Guinness!  You poor boy."  Maggie climbed the wooden stairs up onto the 
deck.  "I'll just say my hellos to the woman of the house," she said, bussing 
both Nicholas and Jake on a cheek each, and ducking into Meadowsweet Ridge.

Soon another car appeared, this one obviously a family vehicle.  The reason 
for a station wagon soon became apparent as two young children came tumbling 
out of the back, followed by their parents and a tall young woman of perhaps 
nineteen or so.  The youngsters were obviously brother and sister, and even 
more obviously fraternal twins.  Jake deduced that these were the artists of 
the colorful murals in the soon-to-be nursery.

"Cead mile failte!" Nicholas called out to this family group.  "Lord and 
Lady, Michael, am I going to have to buy a station wagon to be a good 
parent?"

"That or a mini-van," came back the laughing reply from the father of the 
family.  He was surprisingly short, Jake was interested to note, as if he'd 
been born in a time when the human race was much smaller than it is now. He 
had blond hair and green eyes.  His wife was a little taller than he, 
pleasant-looking with brown hair and brown eyes.  The tall teenager also had 
brown hair and eyes, but bore no resemblance to either of her parents 
otherwise.  She had a cakebox in her hands.  The twins were perhaps eight, 
both with reddish-brown hair and their father's green eyes.  Those eyes, all 
three pairs of them, shone in the reflected light like cats'.  Despite 
himself, Jake felt his hair raise a little.

"Get on up here, you laggard, and meet the guest of honor!" Nicholas called. 
"Niamh, Mags; the Fairlawns are here!"

When they arrived on the deck, they were duly introduced to Jake as Michael 
and Mary Fairlawn, their eldest daughter Bess, and the twins, Galen and 
Vivain.  Galen had had his reddish hair cut short in nearly a buzz cut due to 
whacking his head in some childish accident or other, and thus it was fairly 
easy to tell him from his sister.  Vivain was not the least bit shy and 
marched right up to Jake.

"I'm Vivain," she said.

"I'm Jake," Jake replied.  Small children weren't beings he often came into 
contact with; he wasn't even certain if eight-year olds qualified as "small" 
children.  "Vivain is a pretty name."

"Thank you."  Without further word, she turned back to her brother, who was 
eyeing the various treats on display.

"Help yourselves, you two," Niamh urged them, having emerged from the house 
at Nicholas's call, and gave both twins a quick hug. "Galen, how's your 
head?"

"It's fine now," the boy replied, somewhat incoherently through a large 
cookie. "Thanks," he added.

"You're welcome," Niamh smiled fondly at him.

"I brought some squares," Bess said, offering the tin to Niamh, "but I see it 
was sort of coals to Newcastle."  She gave the healer and the bard both a 
hug.  "You look great, Pandora.  You're due soon, aren't you?"

"Mmm, in just a couple of weeks now," she responded, absently rubbing her 
protruding belly.  "Thank you, Bess, you look great, too.  College agrees 
with you."

The young woman grinned.  "College boys agree with me," she made a pretense 
of whispering, nodding at her parents hovering in the background.

Niamh laughed and winked at Bess.  "We'll talk later..." she stage whispered.

Another car arrived in the driveway, the deepening evening having beckoned 
those of the Brotherhood who could not withstand even the last rays of the 
sun. From this one emerged four people; Jake was wondering if the whole Crowd 
ever tried to fit into one car like a circus act.

Ah, these four he knew, or two of them at least--they'd been at that very 
strange party elsewhere in Maine.  The Baron Gideon Redoak and his constant 
companion, Joshua Trevallion.  The other two were strangers to Jake; a very 
tall, lanky young man who looked somewhat shaggy, and a slightly shorter, 
muscular man who had the look of professional security.  Joshua was carrying 
a box that looked like it might have a cake in it, the tall shaggy one was 
carrying a bottle.  Jake felt slightly guilty for not having contributed 
anything to the party, although these new arrivals were certainly surplus 
goods!

The new arrivals came up onto the deck and were introduced.  The Baron 
greeted Jake cordially enough, apparently having decided to forgive him for 
his association with Adrian.  Josh, as always, was friendly and warm.  His 
box did turn out to contain a very decadent-looking chocolate cake.  The tall 
shaggy one was Mitch Pritchard, and the security guy was Evan Jones--who lit 
into the food as if he hadn't eaten in a month or more.

Niamh tossed Nicholas a triumphant look that said plainly, "Told you so!"

Someone put a tape of music on and the party seemed to be in full swing. Jake 
was going to fetch his second Guinness when he heard Michael ask Nicholas, 
"But where are Ray and Francis?  And Alex?"

"They all said they were coming," Nicholas replied.  "They'll get here."

A few minutes later, just as Mary stopped Galen from dropping an ice cube 
down his sister's shirt, another car pulled up.  Two men in black emerged, 
moving to the passenger doors at once, like the Secret Service surrounding 
the car of the President.  This drew the attention of everyone on the deck.

"What the...?" Nicholas asked, staring at this scene.

The two in black motioned the spectators to stand out of the way and opened 
the  rear door of the car.  Out stepped... Spiderman?

"Someone here order a superhero?" came Ray Griffin's voice.  He indeed was 
one of the men in black, Alex Goldanias the other.  Which only meant that the 
secret identity of Spiderman was...

"Francis!" Niamh exclaimed, shrieking with laughter.

"Oh, my goddess," Niamh managed between giggles, wiping tears of mirth from 
her eyes as she watched Spiderman approach the deck.

"What the--?" Maggie stammered, unconsciously mimicking Nicholas as she 
stared dumbfoundedly at the approaching spandexed vampire.  "Hey baby, you 
been working out?" she called, as Francis made his way up the steps, his "men 
in black" following at a discreet distance.

"Mmm," Niamh murmured, raising her left eyebrow provocatively.  "Don't think 
I've ever noticed *that* bulge before..."

"I think it's padding," Bess stage-whispered behind her hand, causing the 
older women to break into laughter.

"Oh, Bess, college *has* been good for you," Niamh chuckled, ignoring 
Michael's own raised eyebrow.

"Who said anything about college?" Bess quipped, looking meaningfully at both 
Niamh and Maggie.  Even her father couldn't help but smirk at that one.

"Ladies," Francis, er, Spiderman bowed graciously to the threesome before 
removing his hood.  He shook out his long platinum blond hair and grinned, 
waggling his eyebrows.

"Why, Peter Parker, I would never have guessed!" Maggie exclaimed.  "Hey, 
what happened to my scotch anyway?" she turned around with hands on hips, 
abruptly losing interest in the game in favor of something much more 
important.

"Leetle brother, it is you!" Niamh said, stepping forward to give Francis a 
hug.

"Hey, big seester...and, wow, you are biiig!" Francis said, returning the hug 
with enthusiasm. "But gorgeous as ever," he quickly amended.  "Hey, Nicky, 
this is one hot mama you got here!"

"Isn't she though," came Evan's voice at Niamh's ear.

"And how is Darcy and your little one?" Niamh said, quickly intercepting a 
hand that was wandering a little behind.

"Sheesh, Pandora...they're just great," the Baron's bodyguard said, looking 
miffed. "Practicing your castration techniques again, are you?"

"She doesn't have to practice," said Nicholas in mock falsetto, overhearing 
Evan in passing.

"Hey, the castrati were always guaranteed a lengthy gig, bard," Niamh 
countered.

"Yeah, but what's the point?" Evan remarked, shaking his head.

"Well, now, there wouldn't be one would there?  A point, that is," Niamh 
quipped with a quirky smile.

"Ah, Nick, I *like* this woman," Evan grinned, putting his arm around her 
shoulders.  "Mind if I whisk her away for a few hours of wild sex?"

"Just have her home by sunrise," Nicholas winked.

Niamh, never missing a beat, said, "Think the rocking chair will fit in your 
back seat, Evan?"

"Rocking chair?  Ohh...," Evan chuckled.  "My love, we don't need a rocking 
chair..." he began, then leaned over to whisper something in her ear.

"Oh. My," Niamh breathed, eyes widening.  "Sunrise you say?  That gives us, 
what, eight, nine hours?" she added, grabbing Evan's hand.

"Whoa--hold up there Juliet," Nicholas said, frowning.  "I haven't seen your 
eyes light up like that since...Well.  Care to share the secret?"

Niamh smirked and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"Oh.  My.  Yes, I see," Nicholas said, eyes twinkling.  "Damn, Evan. Where 
did you learn that?"  he continued, turning from his wife and putting an arm 
around the bodyguard's shoulders.

"Well," Evan began, "remember that barmaid at that little inn in Wales?"

"Nooo! Not the one with--"

"The very same." Evan nodded emphatically as the two men wandered away 
leaving Niamh to just shake her head and sigh.

"Is it always like this around here?" Jake asked the nearest person to him. 
He realized he'd asked one of the men in black.

"No, this is relatively sane," came back the equitable answer.  "So you're 
Jake.  Ray Griffin."

Jake shook the offered hand.  "Oh, you're the mage," he said, feeling a bit 
stupid.

"That seems to be the current term of preference," Ray replied.

"I thought you had a falcon?"

"These parties are always no animals," the mage explained.  "Andrei hates 
being left behind, but he puts up with it because I bring him home 
leftovers."

"Oh."  Jake studied the man he was talking to with interest, seeing someone 
who looked older than his actual years, a man who had lived a hard life. "Do 
you mind if I talk to you about your, um, work?" he asked.

"Not at all.  I have nothing to hide."  A faint smile crossed the stern 
mouth.  "Not anymore."

"Where does your magic come from?"

"Go right to the point, don't you?  The trouble is, I am not really certain I 
can answer that.  It's like asking an author where they get their ideas. Part 
of it is inheritance, the power runs in bloodlines.  My mother could do 
magic, so could her mother, and my great-grandfather, etc. etc.  Part of it 
was granted to me because of studying and mastering some written magic, some 
of it was acquired in certain rituals."  He saw Jake's forming question.  
"No, you may not ask me about those," he said.  "I have to preserve our 
mystique somehow."  He helped himself to a beer from the garbage can. "And 
besides, I sincerely doubt you'd want to hear about them, if you knew the 
truth.  Some of them were far worse than you can imagine."

"That sounds like black magic," Jake said dubiously.

"This from an anthropologist?  I'll spare you the lecture on magic not being 
either good or evil in itself.  But when I was very young, I ran with the 
wrong crowd.  The really wrong crowd.  I was under the power of a master of 
covens of ... well, call it black magic. Blood magic.  I was lucky, I managed 
to break free.  Usually the only way you leave one of those covens is dead."

"How'd you break free?"  Jake knew he was pushing it, but he'd found a 
fascinating subject to talk to.

"I met blood magic with blood magic, Jake.  I killed my master."

While Jake talked to Ray, Gideon approached his host and hostess.  "And how 
are you both this evening?" he asked.

"We're both just fine, thanks," Nicholas grinned.  "Your glass is empty, Your 
Excellency, allow me to fill it."  He brandished a bottle of Glenfiddich.

Gideon held out his glass obediently.  While whiskey wasn't his first tipple 
of choice, he never turned down a good single malt.  "How's your young guest 
working out?" he inquired.

"Just great," Nicholas grinned.  "I'm ready to offer him a job."

"Nevyan!" Niamh chided him.  "Jake's been a wonderful guest.  And we're 
making sure he gets plenty of R&R, too, aren't we?" she squeezed her 
husband's arm.

"Absolutely," the bard agreed.  "Tonight it's called 'Guinness,'" he
chuckled.

"Nicholas took him to the club last night," Niamh told Gideon.  "And invited 
Maggie along to keep him company since I stayed home.  But get this..."

Michael was staring incredulously at Maggie, one of his two oldest 
(literally) friends.  "You did what?" he spluttered.

"We spent the whole night talking shop," Maggie laughed, tossing back her red 
hair and causing Evan to nearly drop the piece of cake he was working on.  
"In your dreams, Jones!" she told him before turning back to Michael. "He's a 
nice young man, Michael.  He knows his field, and I have him half-talked into 
going back to school for museum studies."

Michael shook his head.  "Now that is a whole new kind of seduction for you," 
he teased.

"It's not always sex, Michael."

"It isn't?" Mitch asked, happening to pass.  His face dropped.  "Then what's 
the point?"

"We've done that joke," Maggie told him.

 "I always miss everything," Mitch complained.  He eyed Evan's piece of cake.  
"I hope you saved some of that for me."

"You know Josh made lots," Evan replied.  "Go get some."

Mitch snorted and made his way over to the cornucopia of goodies.  Josh was 
standing by his creation, wielding a wicked knife and fending off the 
advances of the Fairlawn twins.

"This has liquor in it," he told them severely.  "There are plenty of goodies 
about that are G-rated."

"Ah, gee!" they chorused.

"Can I have a piece, Mr. Josh, sir?" Mitch asked, holding out a plate.  He 
winked at the twins.

"Yes, you may."  Josh cut him a generous slice and pretended not to notice 
that the twins followed Mitch hopefully when he took it off to devour it. 
Undoubtedly they would con him out of small pieces, but it wouldn't harm 
them.

Jake had finished grilling Ray to his satisfaction and found that that cake 
looked very inviting.  Nearly everyone who could still eat food had a piece 
of chocolate cake, and a couple of the vampires were eyeing it regretfully. 
Jake made his move before it was all gone.

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