Halloween fic, pt. 1
Oct. 24th, 2006 11:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivendellroseI was going to wait until next week and post everything all together, but... hell, I want to post the ones I've already finished now, and fortunately I had the foresight of saving them in an online-accessible spot. So. Happy Week-Before-Halloween!
It's worth saying, as usual, that I don't own any of the characters in the following stories. They are respectively owned by JK Rowling and by Tanya Huff. No infringement intended in the slightest, just a bit of seasonal fun. ;)
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
corsiva, who requested Lucius and Narcissa just after Draco was born. I'll have you know that I suffered all kinds of woobie nostalgia after doing some back-reading of journals to get back into the Lucius/Narcissa mindset. My young Lucius is never as good as yours, but I tried to do him justice. ♥
“Narcissa? Dearest, have you seen my cloak?”
“Which one, Lucius?”
“The dark grey, the one with the black fur lining the cape.”
“That one, darling? Don’t you think it’s a bit early for fur trim? It’s only the twentieth of October...”
“It’s bloody freezing out, Narcissa - haven’t you been outside? A salamander would turn to ice out there.”
Narcissa sighed and paused in the application of a darkening charm for her eyelashes. “No, darling, I haven’t. I’ve been in with your son all day, remember? And with those dreadful wives of your friends, too, I might add, for tea. Honestly, I don’t suppose someone else could host them for a change, could they?”
Lucius swept into the library, vest open and shirt hanging wide as he tried to pull his long hair back into a silver clip. “Who would you have do it, then? Your sister? She’d--blast it!” He tripped over a stuffed dragon that had been abandoned in Draco’s play earlier and twisted his hair, puffing it up into an uncontrolled mess. “Bloody... Why do we even have house elves if they can’t keep up after all of this? I swear, Narcissa, I’ll do your great-aunt whatever-her-name-is one better and start beheading them before they’ve passed usefulness...”
“Calm down, darling.” It took all her restraint not to laugh at her elegant husband, his white-blond puffed out around his head like a halo of overly-long dandelion fluff and his clothes all in disarray. “It’s just the one. Come here - let me fix your hair for you.”
“Fine.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, stiff and sulky, and didn’t even react when she kissed the curve of his ear.
“Come now... won’t you cheer up even a little? You’ll be dreadful company at the ball if you won’t relax...”
“Narcissa, I’m afraid I have greater troubles on my mind at the moment, if you don’t mind. Just... fix the damned hair, and let me get on with it.”
“Lucius.”
He sighed and rested his forehead against the back of his hands. “I’m sorry, dearest. You know I don’t mean it...”
“To be frank with you, I’m not entirely sure anymore, darling.” Narcissa combed his hair expertly smooth with her fingers, then clipped it neatly at the nape of his neck. She kept her voice as light as she could manage, but couldn’t cover the quiver of impending tears beneath the surface. She’d never been good at hiding her feelings, particularly where Lucius was concerned. “I know you’re under a great deal of stress right now, but I hope you aren’t under the impression that my life is exactly one long holiday. I’m not unaffected by the concerns that have been troubling you, you know.”
“Of course I know that,” he growled.
“Well, do try to act like it occasionally, then?” The words slipped out almost before she was aware of them, and she flinched inwardly at this lack of tact. They were still relative newlyweds, and it was hardly her place to scold Lucius like this... and yet, he had known that he was marrying a Black woman. Her paternal line wasn’t known for meek submission in anything - she herself might be the most tentative and gentle individual the family had known in generations, but even she had her limits.
Narcissa sighed and circled to face him, bending down to straighten his silver cravate and secure its ebony pin a bit more soundly. “Honestly, Lucius... I never thought we’d be like this. I feel as though we never talk anymore, and you’re always away on business... and then suddenly you’re home again, and all we can do is fight. We’ve been married barely a year, and all I can think is that we’re turning into... into my parents.” She swallowed and turned away, picturing her mother’s boredom and placidity, her father’s disdain for his fading wife and her idle entertainments. They rarely talked, hardly even sat in the same room except at family dinners or for the benefit of guests. Her voice was thick and shaky with emotion, and her eyes bright with barely-held tears. “I don’t want that for us. I thought it would be different, but...”
“Narcissa... Oh, Merlin.” Lucius caught her arm and gently pulled her back to face him. “Narcissa. I have seen your parents and how they behave together. They are... fine, upstanding people, but we are not like them. We never will be. I promise you that.”
“How...” She hesitated. Training told her it wasn’t proper to speak like this, given their relationship, but what more harm could she do? And Lucius had always encouraged her to be frank with him... even on subjects he did not necessarily want to discuss. “How can you say that?” she challenged. “In this short a time, we’ve already changed so much. How can you be so certain that we won’t end up exactly as they have?”
“I know because I love you.” He pulled her closer until she stood between his knees, and rested his forehead on her shoulder. “It will get better, Narcissa. When my lord has defeated his enemies, when Draco is a bit older... Soon, darling. I’m sorry I’ve been cold. It’s this bloody damned war, it takes up all my time and energy. And what I do have to spare from it must be spent pretending for all the fools at the Ministry that I’ve not the slightest connection to any of it! My lord requires an inside man, someone who can twist information out of the upper classes among our enemies, and I am the most well-placed for the job.”
“I know,” Narcissa soothed.
“When this is all over...”
“When it’s over, you will be one of the most powerful men in the wizarding world.” She smiled. “I wonder if you’ll have a moment to spare, in all of that, for your loving wife?”
He kissed the tip of her nose, teasing, and then leaned his forehead against hers, and for a moment it was just like it used to be. Before the war fell into full swing, before their marriage was anything but childish plans and dreams, before Draco was anything but a name Narcissa privately thought would fulfill both their intentions for a child... It was all so much easier then.
“For you, I will always make time.” And he meant it, of course, even if he didn’t always remember. That was the important thing about Lucius, Narcissa reminded herself - he really did always mean well. Even when his mind was taken up with all sorts of other things, she’d just have to take on faith that in his heart, she was still important.
Ah... and there were other things that were important, too - that was her part, to keep him on track with the little daily things in life. An important chore, if a difficult one that required self-sacrifice... particularly his eyes glinted in that particularly devilish way. Like right now. Four minutes ago you could hardly be bothered to look at me, and now... Oh, Lucius. “We’ll be late to the gala if we don’t hurry, remember?”
“Bugger the gala.”
Narcissa grinned. “Later.” She handed him the black and silver mask from her dressing table, and brushed one last errant strand of hair out of his face before standing. “Now. Let’s find that cloak of yours and be on our way, hm?”
Formaymargaret, who requested the "Shadows" books, with Lee and Henry meeting and Tony's reaction to that. Now with plenty bonus Amy, because... well, she has our jobs. ;)
“Wait a minute... you invited Henry to our Halloween party?”
“Sure.” Amy ripped open one of the mini-Baby Ruth bars from the plastic pumpkin bowl on her desk and popped it into her mouth.
“And you thought this’d be a good idea because...?”
The phone rang. Amy rolled her eyes and chewed faster... and then pounced as soon as she’d swallowed. “CB Productions -- no, I haven’t seen -- hang on, let me -- ma’am, I realize it’s important, but I haven’t seen him all day, I’ll have to put you on hold.”This last was spoken so quickly it was obvious she was trying to get it out before whoever was on the other line could get another word in. With a look of triumph, Amy stabbed the ‘hold’ button with a single black fingernail.
“The little ghost is a nice touch,” Tony commented, pointing at the nail.
“Nifty, huh?” She waggled her nails at him. The left pointer fingernail was adorned with a tiny jack-o-lantern. Apparently matching was no longer cool in goth circles.
“Yeah. So, why did you invite Henry, again?”
“Duh. Him and CB have gotten all buddy-buddy. Plus, I figured with you and Lee getting things busy, you wouldn’t mind.”
Mental images raged. Tony couldn’t decide what was worse, the image of CB and Henry together with the insinuations Amy’s eyeliner-eyebrows seemed intent on making, or the phrase “getting things busy.” Although as long as it was him and Lee that applied to, and not the other... “I really don’t think it’s like that.”
“What, puppy love burn out too fast once you actually got him?” She snorted and ripped into another candy bar.
“Wha--? No! Not Lee and I! Henry and CB!”
“What about me?”
Tony and Amy both flinched, although Amy’s might’ve had more to do with the caramel that had stuck to her perfect black nails. “Uh, I was just asking Amy about the Halloween party, and she mentioned that you’d invited Henry.”
The phone began to beep in time with the flashing ‘hold’ light.
CB’s mass leaned over the desk like a comet bearing down on an unsuspecting continent. “Who is that, Amy?”
“Emph?” A helpless gesture, roughly translating to ‘can’t help you, I have caramel and nuts cementing my jaw,’ accompanied the high-pitched noise that escaped Amy’s throat.
“Swallow.”
Amy chewed quickly and obeyed. “It’s your ex, sir.”
“Right. Carry on, then.” He turned back to Tony. “Mr. Foster, have you forgotten some of the more interesting incidents that have surrounded this production company in the past year? Because I assure you I have not. I’ve invited Mr. Fitzroy to our little fete because it occurred to me that All Hallow’s Eve might be a tempting target for yet another attempt at demonic invasion, haunting, or some new form of supernatural ill that doesn’t come from the hackneyed brains of our writing team. Do you approve of that logic, Mr. Foster?”
“Uh. You bet. Sounds great. I, uh... just wanted to make sure we’d have the party start well after sunset. You know... uh.... writers.”
“Of course, Mr. Foster. Incidentally, Brianna is looking forward to seeing you at the party.”
Oh boy. Tony half hoped that demons would appear at the party. At least then he’d have a good excuse for running away screaming.
The phone beeped in time with his growing headache.
* * *
“I don’t get it, Tony.” Lee propped his foot up on one of his kitchen chairs. His left boot didn’t seem to want to go on. “I thought you and this Henry guy were old news... and I thought you both knew that.”
“Yeah, but...” How the hell could he even begin to explain this? “He’s kinda... possessive. I mean, not like he’d be mad about me getting together with somebody else - he knows you and I are together! But he might not like... seeing it.”
One last heave and the boot succumbed to fate. “So he still has issues over your break-up?”
“Not exactly...”
“So that’s a ‘yes,’ then. Okay.” Lee pulled on the long brown suede jacket he’d bought for his costume. “I can deal. We’ll just avoid him.”
“It won’t be that easy.”
“Then we’ll just deal with it. God, Tony, I know you’re high-strung, but this is kind of crazy. It’s not like either of us thought the other one didn’t have any exes who might turn out to be issues, okay?”
Tony sighed. Some conversations would be so much easier if “But he’s a vampire” were a more socially acceptable statement of fact.
* * *
Rather than risk the wrath of the props department should the party get out of hand, CB had decreed that the food and drinks would be set out in the office. Off to the side of the snack and drink tables, Amy’s desk was festooned with dark red fabric and candles... which remained unlit due to the production team’s neurotic aversion to burning wax. Everyone blamed episode 34, but Tony wondered whether it wasn’t simply an issue of television people knowing all too well how much trouble it could cause on a working set. Besides, no one really wanted to find out what would happen if CB’s daughters happened to be in the same room as open flames.
Tony was trapped in a discussion of the sixth Harry Potter book with the younger of said daughters when Henry appeared and was, thus, unable to prevent Lee from walking right up behind the vampire.
Shit, shit, shit... Here came the classic Prince of Men shtick. And Lee, despite being a relatively laid-back actor, was still an actor, with all the confidence that the job required. Tony did not want to see what would happen when those two personalities collided.
“Excuse me, I--oh. Mr. Fitzroy. Good evening.”
Tony winced.
“Good evening, Mr. Nicholas.”
Was it just Tony’s imagination, or did the shadows around Henry darken a little just then?
“I happened to see your appearance on Crisis Line a few nights ago,” Henry continued. “Impressive performance. I must confess, I’m more a fan of live theater, but your interpretation of the character was quite interesting.”
That’s it, I’m going to have to step in, I... what?
“Thanks, man!” Lee broke out into a brilliant grin. Crisis Line, Tony remembered, was one of his favorite guest stints from his earlier career. “And yeah... I started out in stage work. Love to get back to it someday, but TV’s where the money is, you know?”
“Indeed. Even a true artist has to go with what pays the bills, hmm?”
“Oh, that’s right, you’re a writer! You should talk CB into letting you do some pitches for us, sometime. I’ll put in a word for you - I snaffled one of your books off Tony last week. Not my usual stuff, but it’s pretty damn good. The characters are so...”
“Melodramatic?” A hint of the predator showed in that grin. How the hell Lee could not see it, Tony couldn’t understand. But the actor just laughed.
“Well, yeah. But in a good way. You’ve really got chops. And I have a feeling your dialogue would fit with our style.”
“I might have to consider that.”
“Toldja they’d be fine.”
Tony spun in place, hands halfway to a warding posture before he recognized Amy under the broad, pointy black hat and green makeup. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“You sound kinda shell-shocked. Here,” Amy dug into the plastic pumpkin-bowl. “Have some candy. Nothing like sugar to rot the synapses and prevent melt-down.”
“Yeah.” Tony chewed slowly on a pair of gummy vampire teeth. Across the room, his boyfriend and his... well, Henry were chatting like best buddies. That was going to take some getting used to. But he supposed it wasn’t a bad thing... at least this way they’d be watching each other’s backs if anything bad happened, right? Speaking of which, he supposed he’d better keep his eyes open for nefarious metaphysical phenomena.
Or at least teenagers bent on getting in a free wizardry lesson amid too much candy.
It's worth saying, as usual, that I don't own any of the characters in the following stories. They are respectively owned by JK Rowling and by Tanya Huff. No infringement intended in the slightest, just a bit of seasonal fun. ;)
For
corsiva, who requested Lucius and Narcissa just after Draco was born. I'll have you know that I suffered all kinds of woobie nostalgia after doing some back-reading of journals to get back into the Lucius/Narcissa mindset. My young Lucius is never as good as yours, but I tried to do him justice. ♥“Narcissa? Dearest, have you seen my cloak?”
“Which one, Lucius?”
“The dark grey, the one with the black fur lining the cape.”
“That one, darling? Don’t you think it’s a bit early for fur trim? It’s only the twentieth of October...”
“It’s bloody freezing out, Narcissa - haven’t you been outside? A salamander would turn to ice out there.”
Narcissa sighed and paused in the application of a darkening charm for her eyelashes. “No, darling, I haven’t. I’ve been in with your son all day, remember? And with those dreadful wives of your friends, too, I might add, for tea. Honestly, I don’t suppose someone else could host them for a change, could they?”
Lucius swept into the library, vest open and shirt hanging wide as he tried to pull his long hair back into a silver clip. “Who would you have do it, then? Your sister? She’d--blast it!” He tripped over a stuffed dragon that had been abandoned in Draco’s play earlier and twisted his hair, puffing it up into an uncontrolled mess. “Bloody... Why do we even have house elves if they can’t keep up after all of this? I swear, Narcissa, I’ll do your great-aunt whatever-her-name-is one better and start beheading them before they’ve passed usefulness...”
“Calm down, darling.” It took all her restraint not to laugh at her elegant husband, his white-blond puffed out around his head like a halo of overly-long dandelion fluff and his clothes all in disarray. “It’s just the one. Come here - let me fix your hair for you.”
“Fine.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, stiff and sulky, and didn’t even react when she kissed the curve of his ear.
“Come now... won’t you cheer up even a little? You’ll be dreadful company at the ball if you won’t relax...”
“Narcissa, I’m afraid I have greater troubles on my mind at the moment, if you don’t mind. Just... fix the damned hair, and let me get on with it.”
“Lucius.”
He sighed and rested his forehead against the back of his hands. “I’m sorry, dearest. You know I don’t mean it...”
“To be frank with you, I’m not entirely sure anymore, darling.” Narcissa combed his hair expertly smooth with her fingers, then clipped it neatly at the nape of his neck. She kept her voice as light as she could manage, but couldn’t cover the quiver of impending tears beneath the surface. She’d never been good at hiding her feelings, particularly where Lucius was concerned. “I know you’re under a great deal of stress right now, but I hope you aren’t under the impression that my life is exactly one long holiday. I’m not unaffected by the concerns that have been troubling you, you know.”
“Of course I know that,” he growled.
“Well, do try to act like it occasionally, then?” The words slipped out almost before she was aware of them, and she flinched inwardly at this lack of tact. They were still relative newlyweds, and it was hardly her place to scold Lucius like this... and yet, he had known that he was marrying a Black woman. Her paternal line wasn’t known for meek submission in anything - she herself might be the most tentative and gentle individual the family had known in generations, but even she had her limits.
Narcissa sighed and circled to face him, bending down to straighten his silver cravate and secure its ebony pin a bit more soundly. “Honestly, Lucius... I never thought we’d be like this. I feel as though we never talk anymore, and you’re always away on business... and then suddenly you’re home again, and all we can do is fight. We’ve been married barely a year, and all I can think is that we’re turning into... into my parents.” She swallowed and turned away, picturing her mother’s boredom and placidity, her father’s disdain for his fading wife and her idle entertainments. They rarely talked, hardly even sat in the same room except at family dinners or for the benefit of guests. Her voice was thick and shaky with emotion, and her eyes bright with barely-held tears. “I don’t want that for us. I thought it would be different, but...”
“Narcissa... Oh, Merlin.” Lucius caught her arm and gently pulled her back to face him. “Narcissa. I have seen your parents and how they behave together. They are... fine, upstanding people, but we are not like them. We never will be. I promise you that.”
“How...” She hesitated. Training told her it wasn’t proper to speak like this, given their relationship, but what more harm could she do? And Lucius had always encouraged her to be frank with him... even on subjects he did not necessarily want to discuss. “How can you say that?” she challenged. “In this short a time, we’ve already changed so much. How can you be so certain that we won’t end up exactly as they have?”
“I know because I love you.” He pulled her closer until she stood between his knees, and rested his forehead on her shoulder. “It will get better, Narcissa. When my lord has defeated his enemies, when Draco is a bit older... Soon, darling. I’m sorry I’ve been cold. It’s this bloody damned war, it takes up all my time and energy. And what I do have to spare from it must be spent pretending for all the fools at the Ministry that I’ve not the slightest connection to any of it! My lord requires an inside man, someone who can twist information out of the upper classes among our enemies, and I am the most well-placed for the job.”
“I know,” Narcissa soothed.
“When this is all over...”
“When it’s over, you will be one of the most powerful men in the wizarding world.” She smiled. “I wonder if you’ll have a moment to spare, in all of that, for your loving wife?”
He kissed the tip of her nose, teasing, and then leaned his forehead against hers, and for a moment it was just like it used to be. Before the war fell into full swing, before their marriage was anything but childish plans and dreams, before Draco was anything but a name Narcissa privately thought would fulfill both their intentions for a child... It was all so much easier then.
“For you, I will always make time.” And he meant it, of course, even if he didn’t always remember. That was the important thing about Lucius, Narcissa reminded herself - he really did always mean well. Even when his mind was taken up with all sorts of other things, she’d just have to take on faith that in his heart, she was still important.
Ah... and there were other things that were important, too - that was her part, to keep him on track with the little daily things in life. An important chore, if a difficult one that required self-sacrifice... particularly his eyes glinted in that particularly devilish way. Like right now. Four minutes ago you could hardly be bothered to look at me, and now... Oh, Lucius. “We’ll be late to the gala if we don’t hurry, remember?”
“Bugger the gala.”
Narcissa grinned. “Later.” She handed him the black and silver mask from her dressing table, and brushed one last errant strand of hair out of his face before standing. “Now. Let’s find that cloak of yours and be on our way, hm?”
For
maymargaret, who requested the "Shadows" books, with Lee and Henry meeting and Tony's reaction to that. Now with plenty bonus Amy, because... well, she has our jobs. ;)“Wait a minute... you invited Henry to our Halloween party?”
“Sure.” Amy ripped open one of the mini-Baby Ruth bars from the plastic pumpkin bowl on her desk and popped it into her mouth.
“And you thought this’d be a good idea because...?”
The phone rang. Amy rolled her eyes and chewed faster... and then pounced as soon as she’d swallowed. “CB Productions -- no, I haven’t seen -- hang on, let me -- ma’am, I realize it’s important, but I haven’t seen him all day, I’ll have to put you on hold.”This last was spoken so quickly it was obvious she was trying to get it out before whoever was on the other line could get another word in. With a look of triumph, Amy stabbed the ‘hold’ button with a single black fingernail.
“The little ghost is a nice touch,” Tony commented, pointing at the nail.
“Nifty, huh?” She waggled her nails at him. The left pointer fingernail was adorned with a tiny jack-o-lantern. Apparently matching was no longer cool in goth circles.
“Yeah. So, why did you invite Henry, again?”
“Duh. Him and CB have gotten all buddy-buddy. Plus, I figured with you and Lee getting things busy, you wouldn’t mind.”
Mental images raged. Tony couldn’t decide what was worse, the image of CB and Henry together with the insinuations Amy’s eyeliner-eyebrows seemed intent on making, or the phrase “getting things busy.” Although as long as it was him and Lee that applied to, and not the other... “I really don’t think it’s like that.”
“What, puppy love burn out too fast once you actually got him?” She snorted and ripped into another candy bar.
“Wha--? No! Not Lee and I! Henry and CB!”
“What about me?”
Tony and Amy both flinched, although Amy’s might’ve had more to do with the caramel that had stuck to her perfect black nails. “Uh, I was just asking Amy about the Halloween party, and she mentioned that you’d invited Henry.”
The phone began to beep in time with the flashing ‘hold’ light.
CB’s mass leaned over the desk like a comet bearing down on an unsuspecting continent. “Who is that, Amy?”
“Emph?” A helpless gesture, roughly translating to ‘can’t help you, I have caramel and nuts cementing my jaw,’ accompanied the high-pitched noise that escaped Amy’s throat.
“Swallow.”
Amy chewed quickly and obeyed. “It’s your ex, sir.”
“Right. Carry on, then.” He turned back to Tony. “Mr. Foster, have you forgotten some of the more interesting incidents that have surrounded this production company in the past year? Because I assure you I have not. I’ve invited Mr. Fitzroy to our little fete because it occurred to me that All Hallow’s Eve might be a tempting target for yet another attempt at demonic invasion, haunting, or some new form of supernatural ill that doesn’t come from the hackneyed brains of our writing team. Do you approve of that logic, Mr. Foster?”
“Uh. You bet. Sounds great. I, uh... just wanted to make sure we’d have the party start well after sunset. You know... uh.... writers.”
“Of course, Mr. Foster. Incidentally, Brianna is looking forward to seeing you at the party.”
Oh boy. Tony half hoped that demons would appear at the party. At least then he’d have a good excuse for running away screaming.
The phone beeped in time with his growing headache.
* * *
“I don’t get it, Tony.” Lee propped his foot up on one of his kitchen chairs. His left boot didn’t seem to want to go on. “I thought you and this Henry guy were old news... and I thought you both knew that.”
“Yeah, but...” How the hell could he even begin to explain this? “He’s kinda... possessive. I mean, not like he’d be mad about me getting together with somebody else - he knows you and I are together! But he might not like... seeing it.”
One last heave and the boot succumbed to fate. “So he still has issues over your break-up?”
“Not exactly...”
“So that’s a ‘yes,’ then. Okay.” Lee pulled on the long brown suede jacket he’d bought for his costume. “I can deal. We’ll just avoid him.”
“It won’t be that easy.”
“Then we’ll just deal with it. God, Tony, I know you’re high-strung, but this is kind of crazy. It’s not like either of us thought the other one didn’t have any exes who might turn out to be issues, okay?”
Tony sighed. Some conversations would be so much easier if “But he’s a vampire” were a more socially acceptable statement of fact.
* * *
Rather than risk the wrath of the props department should the party get out of hand, CB had decreed that the food and drinks would be set out in the office. Off to the side of the snack and drink tables, Amy’s desk was festooned with dark red fabric and candles... which remained unlit due to the production team’s neurotic aversion to burning wax. Everyone blamed episode 34, but Tony wondered whether it wasn’t simply an issue of television people knowing all too well how much trouble it could cause on a working set. Besides, no one really wanted to find out what would happen if CB’s daughters happened to be in the same room as open flames.
Tony was trapped in a discussion of the sixth Harry Potter book with the younger of said daughters when Henry appeared and was, thus, unable to prevent Lee from walking right up behind the vampire.
Shit, shit, shit... Here came the classic Prince of Men shtick. And Lee, despite being a relatively laid-back actor, was still an actor, with all the confidence that the job required. Tony did not want to see what would happen when those two personalities collided.
“Excuse me, I--oh. Mr. Fitzroy. Good evening.”
Tony winced.
“Good evening, Mr. Nicholas.”
Was it just Tony’s imagination, or did the shadows around Henry darken a little just then?
“I happened to see your appearance on Crisis Line a few nights ago,” Henry continued. “Impressive performance. I must confess, I’m more a fan of live theater, but your interpretation of the character was quite interesting.”
That’s it, I’m going to have to step in, I... what?
“Thanks, man!” Lee broke out into a brilliant grin. Crisis Line, Tony remembered, was one of his favorite guest stints from his earlier career. “And yeah... I started out in stage work. Love to get back to it someday, but TV’s where the money is, you know?”
“Indeed. Even a true artist has to go with what pays the bills, hmm?”
“Oh, that’s right, you’re a writer! You should talk CB into letting you do some pitches for us, sometime. I’ll put in a word for you - I snaffled one of your books off Tony last week. Not my usual stuff, but it’s pretty damn good. The characters are so...”
“Melodramatic?” A hint of the predator showed in that grin. How the hell Lee could not see it, Tony couldn’t understand. But the actor just laughed.
“Well, yeah. But in a good way. You’ve really got chops. And I have a feeling your dialogue would fit with our style.”
“I might have to consider that.”
“Toldja they’d be fine.”
Tony spun in place, hands halfway to a warding posture before he recognized Amy under the broad, pointy black hat and green makeup. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“You sound kinda shell-shocked. Here,” Amy dug into the plastic pumpkin-bowl. “Have some candy. Nothing like sugar to rot the synapses and prevent melt-down.”
“Yeah.” Tony chewed slowly on a pair of gummy vampire teeth. Across the room, his boyfriend and his... well, Henry were chatting like best buddies. That was going to take some getting used to. But he supposed it wasn’t a bad thing... at least this way they’d be watching each other’s backs if anything bad happened, right? Speaking of which, he supposed he’d better keep his eyes open for nefarious metaphysical phenomena.
Or at least teenagers bent on getting in a free wizardry lesson amid too much candy.
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Date: 2006-10-31 03:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 07:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 03:18 am (UTC)And I can't believe you went back to read those old journals. I haven't done it in so long that I'm afraid if I get started I'll never stop!
no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 03:37 am (UTC)I can't resist sometimes - I miss all my old characters so much, sometimes I just have to go back and read through things.