BACK TO FRASER'S FRACTURED FICTION

Sunday Night With the Brotherhood

by A. Fraser and L.M. Wallace
Part 3

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

Niamh just shook her head, squeezing Jake's hand gently before extricating 
her own from his grasp.  "I do not understand it fully myself," she said, her 
eyes troubled.  "It has to do with the Baron--you know this; it also has to 
do with the manner in which Adrian has comported himself with respect to the 
Brotherhood as a whole.  Such contempt can easily be interpreted as 
opposition, Jake, even if his actions do not warrant the Brotherhood's 
attention.  I trust you know what I mean, Jake.  I'm not really at liberty to 
discuss this in great detail."

Jake nodded.  He grasped the essence of the Brotherhood of Darkness, their 
philosophy, if you will, but he was not entirely sure he knew what it was 
they actually did.  He also wasn't sure he wanted to. At least, not yet.

Niamh remained silent, her gaze returning to Nicholas.  The bard had finished 
his tune and was now sitting with Vivain, helping her to hold the guitar and 
make some simple chords that her small fingers could manage.

"Looks like Nicholas has a protege," Jake observed, relaxing back into his 
chair and picking up his beer.

"Aye," Niamh nodded, smiling broadly, one hand absently smoothing the fabric 
of her sundress over her belly.  "And it's been a long time coming..."

The musical interlude having, for the moment, been reduced to an eight year 
old's first attempts on a guitar; Jake decided that now would be a good time 
to talk to the one remaining member of the Brotherhood he really felt he 
should speak to. This wouldn't be easy, but he felt it almost incumbent on 
him.  He found his objective talking quietly to Evan Jones, the one with all 
the muscles. The latter had seemingly filled his stomach at last; and Jake 
reminded himself that he hadn't discovered the meaning of the mysterious 
"cycles" or that prodigious appetite.  Well, he still had five days left at 
the Ridge, there would be time enough.  The party was starting to get the 
feeling of winding down.

"Good evening, Jacob," the Baron inclined his dark head at the intruder on 
his conversation with Evan.  "Have you met Evan Jones, my major domo?"

"Not formally," Jake said, shaking the offered hand that felt like a car 
crusher.  "You're a listserv?" he couldn't resist asking.

Evan chuckled.  "Not that kind of major domo," he said.

Gideon looked slightly perplexed, but let the joke pass over his head without 
comment.  "Are you enjoying your time here, Jacob?" he asked politely.

"Yes, very much," Jake answered.  "Sir," he blurted out, "I'd like to speak 
with you privately, if I may."

An infinitesimally raised eyebrow answered this, but Gideon nodded.  Evan had 
already moved away discretely, without being asked, but Jake had the feeling 
of being keenly watched--and not just by Evan.  But when he took a quick peek 
at the other party-goers, nobody seemed all that intent on his conversation 
with the Baron.

"Well, Jacob?" Gideon inquired, once they had reached a private corner of the 
deck.  "What have you to say to me?"

"Um."  This was more difficult than he'd anticipated, mostly because the man 
he was addressing was so damn polite.  But Jake sensed the tension under the 
cloak of formality.  Redoak was listening, but he wasn't relaxing or making 
any overtures of friendship.  The politeness was distant, almost cold.  Well, 
what else could he expect--that Adrian's enemy would greet Adrian's bloodling 
with open arms?

Gideon seemed to divine some of Jake's reasons for hesitating.  "This is 
regarded as neutral territory, Jacob," he said.  "And I am fully prepared to 
listen to what you have to say.  I bear you no animosity."

"I'm very glad to hear that, sir. After what happened with Evelyn and Joe..."

"That is a matter best not discussed here," Gideon said, still unperturbed.  
"And you need not address me as "sir", you know.  My name is Gideon."

Jake managed not to look surprised, but it was an effort.  "Thank you, si... 
Gideon.  I just wanted to tell you that, whatever it is between you and 
Adrian, it doesn't involve me.  I will become a vampire some day, and Adrian 
will be my sire, but I don't intend to let him rule me and my actions.  I 
want to be able to make my own connections, allies and friends, independent 
of his circle."

A smile was flickering on the edge of the Baron's mouth.  "That is a bold 
statement," he observed.  "I admire your courage, Jacob.  It is an admirable 
goal, one every vampire should strive for."

"The thing is, si...Gideon; I don't want you for an enemy just because I 
happen to be a friend and eventual fledgling of Adrian's.  Whatever it is 
between you... I don't care.  No, that's not true, I do care; because Adrian 
is my friend and it is obviously something that bothers him a lot. But I'm 
not here to make excuses for him, or plead his case to you; I'll leave it up 
to the two of you to work it out between you or not as you see fit.  I just 
want to be judged on my own merits, not by the fact that I'm a friend of 
Adrian's."  This unusually impassioned speech finished, Jake sat down 
abruptly on the deck.

Gideon studied the young man who was now, inadvertently, sitting at his feet. 
"Has... That Actor taught you anything at all about vampires?" he asked, 
seemingly in a non sequitur.

"Quite a bit," Jake replied, "but not nearly enough."

"He has obviously taught you nothing at all about the Brotherhood," came the 
next statement.  "We judge everyone on their own merits, Jacob. Someone who 
seems at first unacceptable can be found to be a true friend." He nodded in 
the direction of Ray Griffin.  "I hope that we shall find such a friend in 
you," the Baron added, leaving Jake rather speechless.

Niamh looked around, the pleasant laziness of contentment permeating her very 
bones.  It had been a very successful night, indeed, not that she had ever 
been worried.  The members of the Brotherhood knew how to have a good time 
together, it seemed, no matter who was hosting the gathering.

Nicholas and Vivain had finished their guitar lesson, and the bard had put on 
a tape of something soft and instrumental which blended easily into the 
background.  People were chatting in twos and threes, nursing the last few 
inches of their drinks, knowing that soon it would be time to go, but 
reluctant to hasten the leave-taking.  The twins had disappeared, and Niamh 
strongly suspected that they were curled up on the sofa inside. Jake, oddly 
enough, was seated on the deck at the Baron's feet.  Wonder what that's 
about, she thought, then chuckled.  Must be sure to get him to drink plenty 
of water before he heads off to bed.

With a gentle sigh, Niamh rose from her deck chair--or tried to.  Her body 
had quite settled into the canvas and the chair was rather low-slung, so that 
when she tried to raise herself, she found she could not get the necessary 
lift required.  Nor could she quite reach the railing to give herself 
leverage. Blowing her hair from her eyes in frustration, she tried again with 
no success.

Laughing at the colorful language coming from Niamh's direction (in Gaelic, 
but given the grumbling of the tone one could only assume that it was most 
colorful), Ray went over to assist.  "Would you like a hand?" he inquired, 
extending said appendage for her acceptance.

"You have a spare?"  Niamh quipped, trying to smile through her annoyance.  
But she gratefully accepted his help.  "Thank you, Ray,"  she said, keeping 
her eyes lowered and busying herself with straightening her dress to hide her 
embarrassment once she was solidly on her feet and vertical once again.

"You're welcome, Pandora.  Don't feel bad.  I've gotten stuck in that kind of 
chair before, too.  Mind you, it was after a few..."

"It is comfortable,"  Niamh acknowledged.  "But it should come with a warning 
label for pregnant women,"  she grinned, no longer feeling quite so 
flustered.  She eyed the wreckage of the food table, noting that there was 
still surprisingly a number of goodies left.  "Would you like a falcon bag 
for Andrei?" she asked Ray.

"I would, thank you, Pandora.  And Andrei thanks you as well," he smiled.

"Not a problem," she smiled back, picking up a large plate that still held 
some canapés and filling it up with an assortment of goodies.  There was much 
more than even a falcon could or would eat--the rest was for Ray himself.  
"I'll just take this to the kitchen and wrap it for you," she said.

"Thanks," he murmured, having noted the extra helpings.  Ray, despite his 
unusual magical powers, was a somewhat "typical" bachelor.  "Can I help you 
bring anything in?"
"Mmm, maybe just grab Josh's cake plate there and I'll wash it for him," she 
suggested, gesturing with an elbow before heading inside.

Ray followed, dabbing icing and crumbs from the plate as he went and 
transferring them to his mouth.

"How are the magic lessons going?" Niamh asked him as she busied herself in 
the kitchen.

"Not really going yet, and he's been getting some instruction from a couple 
of others," Ray answered, leaning against a counter.  He frowned.  "I don't 
think the brother trusts me."

Niamh looked at him curiously.  "Why wouldn't he trust you?"

Ray laughed.  "Would you on first meeting?" He shook his head.  "Not the best 
person to ask that.  Is there anyone you can't see something good in?"

Niamh smiled, but her eyes appeared momentarily shadowed.  "Still have a 
problem with men in uniform," she murmured before turning away to run water 
over the empty cake plate.  "But appearances can be deceiving. Hackneyed, but 
true," she commented.  "But he trusts you enough to let his brother take 
lessons, isn't that right?"

Ray grunted.  "Just need to convince him that I don't have any ulterior 
motives, I guess." He shrugged, his hands buried in his pants' pockets.

"Well of course you don't!" Niamh exclaimed in surprise. She grabbed a dish 
towel from a rack and began to wipe the plate she held dry.  "Well, if he 
needs time to understand that then so be it.  At least he's willing to give 
you a chance."

"That's all I've ever asked," Ray said briefly, looking down at the floor.

"And you've been given that, and more," Niamh said gently, laying a hand on 
his shoulder.

"Much more," Ray looked up at her, mouth softening into a smile.

"Just be careful, okay?" she implored him, brushing his cheek lightly with 
her lips.

Ray opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shook his head instead, 
his smile broadening.  "Yes, mom," he teased her, eyes lighting up with a 
rare twinkle.

"Mum," Niamh repeated softly, inflecting the word with her British accent. 
She cast her eyes down towards her torso, blinking hastily.

"You'll be a terrific mother," Ray observed.  "And I bet you were, too," he 
added quietly.

"She was, and will be," said Nicholas, appearing beside her, putting an arm 
around her shoulders.  Neither Ray nor Niamh elicited any surprise at this 
silent manifestation.

"Thanks again for the food, Pandora," Ray murmured, taking the plate from the 
counter, sensing the couple would like some time alone.

"Everything okay?" Nicholas asked, pulling her into an embrace.

"Mmm, just fine," she responded, laying her head on his shoulder.  "A bit 
tired."

"Everyone is making moves to leave," the bard told her, kissing her softly on 
the top of her head.  "Jake and I can clear up outside.  I'll clean up the 
rest tomorrow, okay?"

"Thank you, love," she smiled up at him.

"Any time.  Anything," he said, seeking her mouth with his.

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted their silent conversation some 
moments later.  The couple turned to see Michael leaning against the 
doorframe with arms folded across his chest, grinning at them.  Two sleepy, 
tousle-headed children stood beside him, rubbing their eyes.

"Looks like the wee ones are ready for bed," Niamh observed, hastily 
smoothing her dress and readjusting an errant shoulder strap.

"Aye," agreed Michael, patting Vivain's head fondly.   She leaned in against 
her father and he put his arm protectively around her shoulders.

"Will you and Nicky still visit us when the baby comes?" asked the little 
girl, green eyes wide and fixed on Niamh.

"Of course we will, love," Niamh reassured her with a warm hug.  "And you can 
tell the wee bairn all the stories you know."

"Like the one about Jordan and the faeries?" Vivain asked, smiling broadly.  
Michael and Nicholas exchanged solemn glances but Niamh just smiled, tenderly 
brushing a strand of hair from the girl's cheek.

"Especially that one," she said softly.

"Is everyone all set?" asked Mary, appearing behind Michael with Bess in tow.

"Pandora's going to let me tell stories to the baby!" Vivain announced, 
beaming at her mother.

"That's lovely, dear," Mary said, smiling at Niamh.

"We'll make a bard of her yet," Nicholas joked.

"I wanna be a bard, too," Galen complained grumpily.  "An' play the guitar 
like Nicky."

"You only wanna play cause I was playing before," Vivain accused him. 
"Nicky's gonna teach *me* to be a bard  cause I'm special!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Whoa!" Nicholas exclaimed, holding up his hands, laughing.  "You can both 
learn to play the guitar.  Music and story are gifts to be shared.  And 
you're *both* special," he emphasized.  "Okay?" he added, looking at the 
twins sternly.

"Okay," Vivain mumbled, shuffling her feet.  When Galen didn't respond she 
elbowed him in the ribs.

"Okay, okay," he mumbled, rubbing his side.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Mary teased Nicholas and Niamh, shaking her 
head at her two little terrors.

"We're used to children," Niamh responded, taking Nicholas's hand in her own.  
"And what's one more around the house?" she added, eyes twinkling up at him.

"That's what I said," Nicholas added without missing a beat, winking at her.

"Thank you for a lovely time," Mary said, coming forward to hug and kiss them 
both.  "We're on standby, remember.  Just a phone call away."

The two nodded, Nicholas blanching ever so slightly.  "Midsummer," Niamh 
asserted as they walked with the family back outside.

"Well, we'll be taking these two home to bed," Michael said, steering Galen 
in the direction of the station wagon.  "Goodnight, Niamh, Nevyan... Jake."  
He smiled in the direction of the young man who was now trying to make 
himself useful by picking up party debris.  Mary had Vivain in tow, and Bess 
detached herself from Maggie to join her family.

"Goodnight, nice to meet you," Jake said, aware that he had not learned just 
who or what Michael was.  Those eyes... there was power there.

And, typical of any party, the first departure spurred a rash of others. 
Maggie came up and hugged Niamh, then Nicholas, then Jake in turn, causing 
Jake to go red.  "Thanks for a great party," she said to her hosts. To Jake, 
she said, "Stop by and visit me in the museum sometime over your visit."

"Sure," he said, feeling both pleased and disconcerted that this vibrant 
woman seemed to want to just be friends.

The Oakwoods Boys were next, Gideon bowing and kissing Niamh's hand. She 
laughed at him, and he took her response in good humor.

"I have a reputation to maintain," he said with a twinkle.

"Pompous to a point, my dear Baron," she retorted.

"We're not doing the point joke again, are we?" Mitch asked plaintively.

"What would be the point?" Evan chimed in.

"This is pointless," Josh said.

"Oh, off with you all!" Nicholas ordered.  "And I mean that pointedly."

They all groaned, and with a chorus of "thank you's" and "goodnights," the 
foursome departed.

Just as they had been the last to arrive, the two "Men in Black" and 
"Spiderman" were the last to leave.  Ray and Alex came up to the hosts and 
their resident guest, with Francis held firmly between them.

"Sirs, Ma'am," Ray intoned, exactly like an FBI clone,  "We regret to inform 
you that this is an imposter!"

"No!" Pandora gasped.

"I'm afraid so, Ma'am," Alex said, in the same tone as Ray had used. "This is 
not the real Spiderman."

"He had us all fooled," Nicholas commented.

"If he's not Spiderman, who is he?"  Jake asked, falling into the game as if 
he'd been a member of the Brotherhood for years.

"He's really..."  there was a flurry of movement, the sound of Spandex 
ripping, and a gasp.  Ray and Alex released their prisoner, to reveal a 
chintzy costume of red, green and yellow, a black badge with a yellow "R" 
emblazoned on the chest, where Spiderman had once stood.  "Robin!"

"Holy shi--er, Holy vampire disguise, Batman!" Niamh exclaimed through her 
giggles.  "You are definitely more the boy wonder type, Francis," she added, 
raising her left eyebrow provocatively.

"Always did wonder about that boy," Nicholas commented wryly.  

"Well I think it's wonderful," Niamh said, ignoring the chorus of groans and 
giving Francis a hug.

"Wanna see the bat cave, baby?" Francis leered at her.

"Bat she wouldn't even bat an eye," Jake quipped, earning himself surprised 
looks.  He just shrugged.  "If you can't bat 'em, join 'em."

"Heh.  That's not bat, man, " Nicholas countered.

"I have the dire feeling this is all my fault," Ray said with a grin that 
suggested he was not the least bit repentant.  "I've been a bat boy."

"Argh!" Francis couldn't take it anymore and punched his friend on the arm.

"Don't bat him up!" chorused everyone else, as if on cue, and they all burst 
out laughing, even Francis.

"It was a great joke, Ray," Niamh assured him, wiping her eyes. "But I'll get 
you for this."

"Oo, I'm scared."  But the smile he gave her conveyed his genuine warmth at 
being treated so much like a member of the family.  He picked up his plate of 
treats, which he'd set down in order to perpetrate the joke.  "I'd better get 
home to that dizzy bird," he said.  "Coming, Agent Goldanias? Robin?"

"Right behind you, Agent Griffin," Alex saluted his host and Jake, winked at 
Niamh, and followed Ray to the car.

"Holy departures, Batman, I think it's time to crawl back into the coffin."  
Francis sighed.  "Well, see you next week, same bat time, same bat channel!" 
He waved and got into the car.

"You just sit and rest now, mo croidhe," Nicholas told Niamh.  "We'll clean 
up, won't we, Jake?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Jake yawned, feeling the beer.  It no longer felt warm and 
fuzzy, but was hammering the back of his head and his bladder with equal 
insistence.

"You go and drink some water, Jake," Niamh insisted.  "Lots of it.  The 
clearing up can wait."

"Okay," he agreed readily.  "That was a lot of fun, and really interesting. 
Thanks."

"You're welcome."  Niamh smiled, stretching up to kiss him on the cheek.  
"Don't forget to drink that water!"

He hesitated, trying hard not to look embarrassed, then grinned and said,  
"Yes, mom," ducking out of the way of any potential swat.  "Goodnight," as he 
headed into the kitchen.

"Goodnight, Jake," Nicholas and Niamh replied.

"Well, once more unto the breach, my love?" Niamh held out her arm to 
Nicholas.

"Promises, promises," the bard growled, violet eyes twinkling merrily.

"Would I lie to you, honey?" she responded, batting her eyelashes.

"You'd batter not," Nicholas replied, slipping his arm around her waist  as 
they walked slowly to the stairs.

"You can always Count on me, my heart," she quipped, hastily slipping  out of 
his reach and racing up the stairs with surprising litheness, but Nicholas 
was not left far behind.

Jake just shook his head as he stood in the kitchen sipping his water, 
listening as their laughter and Niamh's sudden squeals became muted behind a 
slammed door.  He wondered briefly if he should go crash at the school.  
"Nah, batter not,"  he said aloud and, refilling his glass, made his own way 
to bed.

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