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Such Things

by Julia Osmond

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A "Decline of the Romanian Vampire" variant...

           "Klaus," Lucard breathed, "I'm warning you..."
           "Oh, no, no, no," Klaus interrupted, raising a finger. "I'm warning you. You can't do anything to me now. I'm stronger than you are." He giggled briefly. "Much stronger."
           "Possibly," Lucard conceded. "How unfortunate for us all that even the Cross cannot make you my equal in intellect as well."
           "Shut up!" Klaus advanced on him. Despite his unsteadiness on his feet, Lucard held his ground, directing the other vampire a look of somewhat feverish disdain. "I am smarter than you. Smarter and stronger." His hand shot out, seizing the other's chin, forcing it up. "For once, you're as weak as you look. Every minute you're in the presence of the Cross you become more helpless. More drained of power. More unable to resist me." He leaned in close, gloating. "It's such fun, isn't it, Alexander?" He let his thumb play over the vulnerable point where the jaw met the skull. "Don't you like being the weaker one for a change?"
           Lucard stiffened. "Not that much weaker, Klaus."
           But the other had seen his reaction, and was smiling even more broadly. "Oh, you don't think so? Well, why don't we find out? Yes. It's irresistible." Without looking away from Lucard, he ordered his father, "Go into the next room, old man."
           "What are you going to do?" Helsing asked, bewildered.
           "Your son is about to enact a particularly primitive form of power relations," Lucard said, projecting scorn with difficulty over the huskiness in his voice.
           "Not too primitive for you to enjoy, though, if I remember correctly," Klaus said, pushing him roughly against the wall. "It's satisfying, isn't it? And I do so want to be satisfied. --Go on, Helsing."
           The older man stared at them in confusion for a moment, then did as he was told. He was not sure he wanted to understand what was happening.
           "Hello? What's this? Your hands are shaking." Klaus caught one of them at the wrist, holding it up and looking delightedly at the tremor.
           "I assure you it is not your method of seduction which is causing it, Klaus." Lucard looked at the hand with detachment, as if it did not belong to him, but his gaze was not perfectly straight.
           "Of course not." Klaus's voice hardened, and he lowered the other's arm. "You never cared about me. I was just a diversion."
           "No. More of a...convenience, I would say."
           Klaus struck him hard across the face. Lucard flinched, genuinely startled by the pain. "That's it," Klaus said, "you felt that, didn't you?" He jerked Lucard's tie loose. "Just like you're going to feel this." He laughed. "'Better you had not been born than not to have pleased me better.'"
           "That's a tad...optimistic, Klaus."
           Klaus twisted his arm behind his back, nodding approvingly at the little grimace of discomfort which Lucard made. "You have no idea what this is like." He was pushing him over to one of the chairs, but stopped for a moment, considering the point with obvious pleasure. "I'm the first person ever to do this to you, aren't I?"
           "Oh, don't flatter yourself," Lucard said disdainfully, looking back at him over his shoulder.
           "There have been others? Who?"
           "That's not important."
           Klaus's eyes widened. "Nosferatu?"
           Lucard snorted. "A long-standing ambition. Not satisfied."
           Klaus mused, "I guess it's not really surprising. You make everyone want to teach you a lesson." He brushed his thumb over Lucard's mouth, deliberately, lingeringly, relishing the way the lips trembled. "And with such a pretty face..." For a moment they stood still, looking at each other, and then Klaus shoved him against the back of one of the wooden chairs. "Well, I hope you won't find this boring."
           "You never did."
           "It's not a very dull position to be in." Klaus came around to the front of the chair.
           "Oh, you liked it well enough," Lucard mumbled, dryly and rather dizzily.
           "Not at first," he responded sharply.
           "That was part of your much-needed education."
           "Well, then," Klaus said, smiling broadly, "I guess we'll see now how good a student I was." He drew out a scarf and began binding Lucard's wrist to the chair arm, pulling him off-balance.
           "Not particularly good, I expect," Lucard said, wavering somewhere between smugness and delirium. "You won't be able to make me enjoy it."
           Klaus giggled. "Who says I'm going to try?"