by maven

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The Xena: Warrior Princess is copyright © Universal / Renaissance. No infringement is intended.  The Vampire Chronicles is copyright ©  Anne Rice.  Again, no infringement is intended.

EXPLANATION AND FURTHER DISCLAIMERS:  No fictional characters were permanently harmed in the production of this piece of fiction. Any resemblance between the Rice Vampires and the Xenaverse is purely intentional  Lestat's ego was not permanently deflated because, as always, he will merely forget anything that doesn't make him look good. Absolutely no disrespect was meant in regards to any of the bards or spec writers, especially ones mentioned by name. However, TPTB and Anne may have been gently mocked but it was meant well and I hope they get over it and not sue me. Seriously, TPTB and Anne are really great about letting us play around with their toys -- even when we put them in the weirdest scenarios  -- and should be thanked. Let's see, no laundry was folded during the creation of this fan fic. The French language was mangled severely but will likely recover.   Any resemblance between Joxer and a certain vampire is purely for the point of the story and I really, really, really had to stretch it. Yep, no similarities at all. Not a one. Last thing. About two weeks after writing this I realized that I wrote it in direct response to exchanging some letters with Cheaza. So this is kinda dedicated to her. Not that you should blame her or anything.

FEEDBACK, COMMENT AND FLAMES: Email at maven369@sympatico.ca

Lestat bounded up the stairs to their second floor apartment, sighing in mock disgust at the front door which lay ajar. Pushing the door further open he slipped inside, stepping over the sprawled bulk which was the sleeping Mojo. The mastiff opened an eye, whining sleepily before hummphing back into unconsciousness. Lestat dropped his motorcycle jacket carelessly onto a chair, loosened his shirt from his leather pants and looked around.

The only light was from the study. Which didn't surprise Lestat. With as much grace and stealth as he could manage wearing Doc Martins on a century old wood floor he crept to the study door and peeked inside.

Louis sat in front of his infernal device. The only sound was the whirl of the laser printer as it spat out a piece of paper every few seconds and the flutter of said pages as Louis picked them up, read them and then placed them neatly onto a stack. For several minutes Lestat watched.

"What are you reading, mon cher?"

Louis started, sending the pile of papers tilting forward. "Lestat! You startled me! Nothing! How was you hunt? Any stories to tell me? Let's go to the parlour..."

Lestat, having grabbed the papers glanced down at the ...embarrassed?... Louis.

"Non, non, non. No secrets between us, n'est pas?" Lestat, twisted away, trying to hold the pages from Louis while simultaneously reading them. "More of those specs, eh? The further, non-licensed adventures of Lestat and his faithful companion.... Gabrielle? What's mother doing...? Louis! Why is my mother referred to a the Queen of the Amazons and who is this Xena woman?"

Louis, slumped back into his chair and buried his head into his hands. "Lestat, they're not about us."

"Not about me? Then why read them?" Lestat asked, flipping through the pages. "Louis, are you aware that these two women are... well... you know."

"Well, Lestat, strange as a concept for you to accept as this might be but... well, the world of fandom does not revolve around you."

"My ego is not so large as that," Lestat said, barely concealing the pout. "Mon dieu, is this physically possible! I mean, limber is one thing, but..." he asked, pointing at a passage.

Louis ignored the last question. "Well, many of them are well written and the stories do have a certain parallel with us."

"Well, of course, I expect that you see me in this Xena woman; exceptional good looks, a fighter and a lover, a disdain for the traditional gods of her time, a rebel against the rules, exceptional in everything she does. Yes, I can in all honesty say that these are qualities that I have."

Louis, face still muffled, nodded. The words "and exceptional ego" muttered unheard by the other.

Lestat continued. "And you would be this Gabrielle girl. The useless tag-a-long always needing rescuing, getting into trouble. More concerned with her books and stories than the real world. Why, she even has green eyes in most of these stories!"

Lestat flipped a few more pages, letting the read one drop toward the floor where Louis would rescue them and place them neatly into their stack.

"But this Callisto, this insane killer who blames all her woes on this Xena in some insane love/hate relationship. That is purely..."

"Louis, Lestat, are you home? The door was open."

"Purely fictional." Lestat stared in amazement at Armand and Daniel as they crowded into the study. "Mon dieu, but the parallels are amazing. Have you noted that, Louis? Does my agent know about this?"

Armand intercepted a page as Lestat dropped it, read it quickly and then passed to Daniel. Who in turn read it and passed it to Louis for filing.

"Do you mean you just now discovered the Xena alt fan fiction?" Armand asked.

"Some of us do not spend every waking minute in front of a computer screen," Lestat replied defensively. "Some of us..."

"Can't remember how to double click on the Connect icon to get into the internet," Louis said.

"Click, double click, rodents, mon deiu, this infernal device..."

"Well," Daniel said, handing Louis another page, "At least we don't have Joxer. You know, some vampire wanna-be who bumbles through things. Half the time in love with Callisto and half the time in love with Gabrielle."

Three pairs of eyes stared at him. Three eyebrows arched speculatively.

"I really, really, really resent the thought that you are all thinking. Very much." Daniel said tightly.

Armand put a comforting arm around his love's shoulders. "No one thinks you're the Joxer of our coven, Daniel. After all, you can feed without biting yourself... now."

Lestat ignored the pushing contest which quickly developed between Armand and Daniel, continuing to read.

"Right, Ares, the pushy god always wanting Xena to obey the rules and do what he says?" he asked.

"That would be Marius," said Louis.

"And the flighty god, Aphrodite? The one who's powers exceed her wisdom?"

"That would be Jesse," said Armand.

"And these Amazons, who are always just there and supportive and really judgmental about Xena but simply accepting this Gabrielle who can do no wrong in their eyes."

"That would be your mother," said Louis.

"Or Mael," said Daniel.

"Or Santino," said Armand.

"Or Pandora," said Louis.

"Or Maherte," said Armand.

"Or...," began Daniel.

"I get the idea," Lestat said tightly. "Well at least Mojo is mine, no doppleganger there."

"Unless you count Bat Morda's Argo the German shepard," agreed Daniel.

"Or Missy Good's Ares the wolf puppy," added Louis.

Lestat glared at his three friends. "I see, well there is one difference. I am a writer, unlike this Xena. I write my own adventures and do not rely on... WHAT?" Lestat interrupted himself, glaring in confusion at the looks the three were exchanging.

"God, Louis, doesn't he know?" inquired Daniel while Armand asked simultaneously, "Didn't you tell him?"

"Tell me what?" asked Lestat with studied good nature.

"Well, it didn't come up." admitted Louis to Daniel and Armand.

"Tell me what?" asked Lestat with less good grace.

"How could it not come up?" asked Armand incredulously.

"Tell me what?" bellowed Lestat.

"See here, Lestat, have you actually read 'The Vampire Lestat' or 'Queen of the Damned'?" asked Daniel as Louis handed him a copy of the latter novel from the shelf.

"Read it?" asked Lestat, opening the book and glancing through some pages. "Why should I read it, I wrote it." He stared down at the paperback and hurriedly scanned some more pages. "I didn't write this."

"Well, no," admitted Louis. "I did."

"Why?" asked Lestat in bewilderment.

"Because, Lestat, while you are exceptionally good looking, are a fighter and a lover, have a disdain for the traditional gods of your time and are a rebel against the rules, you cannot write to save your life. Your undeath. Your whatever. Knopf sent it back without so much as a form letter rejection."

"I can so write," muttered Lestat, shoving the offending novel into the shelf.

"Lestat, I read your draft of Queen of the Damned," Daniel said. "And I quote, 'She bit me and sucked my blood. I bit her and sucked her blood. It was really, really, really good.' Look, all Louis did was take what you did and jazz it up a bit. Put a shine onto it. So what if you're not a writer. You are still all those other things."

Lestat, hanging onto his anger by the fingernails, glared at Louis. Who looked up, green eyes through the tousled black hair.

"Je t'aimee, Lestat," said Louis quietly.

"Je t'aimee aussi, Louis," muttered Lestat, sighing. "Look, I'm getting claustrophobia with all of you in here. I'm going to put some music on in the parlour if anyone cares to join me. There's a new CD, an opera I think, by some Italian named LoDuca."

"I swear," Armand said, after Lestat had left. "What do you see in him?"

Louis shrugged, giving the stack of fan fiction one more pat before grinning up at the two. "Those blue eyes, the leather..."

"Louis," came a roar from the parlour. "How do you open these accursed little cases?"

"Coming, mon heros," called Louis, heading for the door.

Armand smiled at Daniel. "They're so predictable, such archetypes. Just push the button and there they are: the warrior and the bard."

"Not like us," said Daniel, flipping his hair forward to hide his violet eyes under dark hair. Looking up through the locks into Armand's darker eyes.

"I love you, Armand," he said, quietly.

"I love you, too, Daniel," said Armand, kissing him on the forehead. "Leather, eh?"

"Works like a charm."

The End

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