Okay, so I left. Walked out, didn't even genuflect in front of the altar. Well, I wasn't an altar boy anymore, twenty lashes with a wet noodle. I wandered around, getting pretty well lost. See, I'm not real good with direction in the first place, and New Orleans is not my centre of operations. When I was a little tyke, about four years old, I had gone into this mall foyer to see the big Christmas tree they had set up. You know, it was like a million miles tall and had ornaments that Mom just didn't put up. Well, this foyer thingie had more than one entranceway, and when I went to leave, I couldn't find the right one. My dad was in the car waiting (and I did know what the car looked like) and when I stood on the street, that car was not there. Well, my first thought was that my father had been abducted by aliens. Believe me, that is what every four year old dreams of. But after about five minutes, which seemed like five hours, I was scared shitless and ran back in. Some lady that worked there found me crouched with the presents under the tree, bawling my eyes out. She helped me out; for years I was convinced that she was my guardian angel.

Anywho, this really doesn't have much to do with my story. I mean, really, it's kind of embarrassing that I got lost going around a Christmas tree. But it was that same lost feeling that I had walking through the streets, kicking cans and newspapers, and even a cat that got in my way. I was almost proud that I had left my imp standing alone, looking stupid. Usually it's me in that position. But the more I thought, the more I felt bad. I mean, who could he run to? That Roman who'd whip his ass? (Whoo-hoo, and mine if he discovered that I was gone!) Those jerks who didn't love him? Sybelle and Benjamin? Yeah, I'm going to be ill. All he had was me, and maybe he was only playing hard to get. I couldn't even make a second go at it; I had left the ring in the church.

So, I almost pissed my shorts when I found myself in front of Marius' big ol' house. Lassie had come home without even intending to. Maybe things were looking up. Maybe I had discovered my sense of direction. I decided not to press my luck, though. Well, knocking didn't seem like a real smart option, so I snuck in the back way again. Ha, he'd never know I was missing! I figured that I'd go sit quietly in the sitting room, pretend I was really meditating on his "words of advice." I tip-toed, humming "Tainted Love" under my breath. I learned about irony in Literature 101.

And it was claiming my life like the Blob. Well, not exactly so gooky and sticky. But, Armand was all curled up on the nice, big couch. He was asleep, really asleep, like mortal asleep. He had one arm tucked under his head, the other curled up against his chest. There was a piece of hair in his slightly open mouth; it was driving me crazy. Not a long drive...

His boots were flung across the room. My guess is that he had come in in not such a great mood. I felt a second of evil triumph. He hadn't had that peachy a night either. Served him right, arguing in a church. I went closer to get a better look. Yup, he had scrubbed at his face with his nice clean sleeve, but now the evidence was everywhere. Blood tears smeared on his white cheeks and screwing up his shirt. White, of course...

He even had red all over his hands. It looked like he had torn someone apart bare-handed. Looking closer, I noticed that it wasn't that much blood, really; he had the ring on his finger. The stone was near his mouth. Like he'd been kissing it, or something. His breath was kind of fogging up the shiny surface.

I unlaced my sneakers, then climbed over him and lay down behind him. It's great to have a smaller Maker. Or a bigger couch, I guess. I wrapped myself around him like Cling Wrap. Cozy, all warm from feeding probably. I could feel his heart going 'cause my hand was on his chest. Comforting. It was like a real proof he was alive. I know, I had seen, touched, and talked to him, but somehow that biological proof made me feel better. I should have headed for pre-med in college instead of journalism.

It got a little boring after a while, but there was no way I was giving up my seat. I kind of wished there was a TV in there, but Marius probably played senet for fun. Or crocheted. The mental image that conjured up was too much; I managed to keep the hysterics silent, but my shoulders were shaking like I was having convulsions. I really tried, honest, but Armand moved a little, making quiet little noises in his throat. It was like holding on to a toddler while he woke up. I craned my neck to watch his face while he opened his eyes. I swear, he fluttered his eyelids like Sleeping Beauty.

As soon as he opened them all the way, I slammed my head back down. Playing dead, like when my mom would get me up for school. Maybe he wouldn't know I was there. Yeah, right, and monkeys fly out of my butt!

You know, I saw Disney's "Sleeping Beauty" awhile ago. To be truthful, I think I saw it with Armand in one of those movie theatres that smell like rotten popcorn and bodily fluids that should not be in movie theatres. Well, what can you expect at the late, late, late, late, late showing of a Disney classic? Live appearances by Mickey Mouse? Besides, it actually was better than seeing psychotic women who never put their guitars down while they tell you about your aura. And, added bonus, it's easier to cuddle in a dark movie house.

Anywise, back to the point (if there was one to start out with). Armand straightened out somewhat, pulling his hair out of his eyes before he had even opened them. He was so pretty asleep; I almost didn't want him to wake up. When he was asleep, or even mostly asleep, we didn't argue or have to worry about the past or the future. I could just look at him and he could just dream of me. OK, well wishful thinking is a good thing. I mean, self-fulfilling prophecies and all.

Before he woke up, I wanted to prove that I could be sweet. For senior prom, I had been the perfect gentleman all night. The corsage actually matched her dress, I held the gymnasium doors open for her; it all worked great until I opened the car door for her to get in and slammed her ankle in it as I was closing it. Even then, I signed the cast with a smiley face.

I leaned over my imp, and he turned to face me as if he knew I was there. I put my face down real slow, easing my lips onto his. I didn't grin, or laugh, or spit. Perfect gentleman. As his soft mouth, like, melted against mine, I remembered my first real kiss. I had been so freaking scared that I used my tongue like I was licking a sucker. Real romantic. I like to pride myself on the fact that I no longer kiss like that. It was all cool, James Bond-like. I bit his tongue a little and the blood was like a little taste of the drug we like to call ecstasy. Exploding stars and everything.

"What the hell happened to your shirt, Armand?" I half-growled at him as I tugged at the fancy pearl buttons. He smiled, not shyly at all.

"Must've spilled some wine, love." A thrill went through me like you can't imagine. He called me "love." He didn't call his little drooling cronies that. I realized that's why I was his fledgling, not his child. We were lovers, and not sick enough to be into the family thing. So, by saying "fledgling" I was actually made into some better thing. He had not "dirtied himself" by making them into vampires. Marius had made the big boo-boo.

His body was almost fragile, still white and glowy. I had forgotten how dark his eyes were when they were really huge and staring right at you. They got closer and closer as we kissed again. It seems almost wrong to talk about it. I mean, this kind of shit is usually smutty and skanky, but it just isn't like that with Armand. Stroking him isn't nasty, it's heaven and can't be wrong. Kissing every inch of that skin isn't dirty, 'cause his skin is so white that it's worship. And when his silky hands are everywhere, it's to die for. I was very glad for that big velvet couch. Let me tell you, velvet on your skin in a situation like that is much nicer than the gravel I was on while being made into a vampire.

It was pretty cool that no one walked in on us either. I mean, can you imagine the color of Louis' face had he walked into that little make-out session? Or the nasty, nasty comments spewing from Lestat's "clean" little mouth? Or just the things ol' Grandpa Marius would be thinking? But, there was nothing. I swear, it was more of a miracle than that stupid dirty rag that Armand went sunbathing for. Of course, for all I know, they were all listening in and getting their jollies that way.

But it didn't matter, really. Let 'em all listen in. Let 'em in to watch the action live. Might have to charge admission, though...

Somehow, though, it all worked out and we lay there after everything. He was curled up on my chest; I kissed the ring on his finger. Clothing was laying in heaps around the room. I liked the new dˇcor. He was falling asleep again. He was tired a lot. I wasn't mad at him for that though; he went through tons of crap. He needs to get some rest. And if he gets it with me, who am I to complain?

I have to admit it; I kind of like it when we fight. Because the making up afterwards is always the best.

I got up to leave; it was like pulling away from something I was stuck to with superglue. I didn't want to go, but there were certain things (two certain things in particular) that I had to deal with. Now, I'm not dropping any names, but their initials were "S" and "B." No hints though.

I stood looking down at him, all curled up again. I figured he might get kind of cold, dressed in as little as he was. Unlike my mom, Marius didn't keep a nice fuzzy blanket on the back of the couch. As fun as it would have been to dress Armand, I decided he needed the rest. I picked up my ratty old denim jacket and laid it over him real carefully.

I almost forgot to get dressed myself before leaving the room, which would not have been cool. I jumped into my jeans, and pulled my t-shirt over my head as I walked into the hallway. No one in sight, though I thought I heard Lestat's voice upstairs. It sounded like he was with Louis so I figured that he wouldn't bother me at all. Other than them, I couldn't hear anyone else in the house. Kind of weird; it wasn't that close to dawn. Maybe they'd all gone on a nature walk, I don't know. I bounded up the stairs, cutting the corner too fast and almost falling back down the stairs. I got my balance and veered left into the room that Sybelle always disappeared into. I'm not a great gumshoe, but I figured that was where that piano was.

I was very happy to find that she was out. I looked around for a means to wreak my revenge. For the first time since senior prank, I had no ideas. Until I noticed that the piano was not just any ordinary piano, it was a player piano. I immediately pushed every button on the damn thing, finally finding the song menu. It was time for her to expand her musical horizons; first song on the list, Black Sabbath's "Ironman." Now, I didn't want her to get stuck in a rut. I put the thing on random play in the hard rock category; she'd get to hear a lovely selection of Kiss, Alice Cooper, and a little Guns 'n Roses on the side. I considered putting up cardboard cut outs of the groups around the room, but I thought the music would be shocking enough.

As I pushed the final button, sealing her doom, I heard a little sound behind me. I was praying it wasn't Armand, but then I heard his thoughts. Benjamin, trying to figure out with his limited cortex what the hell I was doing. He was dressed like Lawrence of Arabia and I had no clue what to do to him. See, my intentions are always really good, but I never plan far enough in advance.

"I should tell Marius what you're doing, fledgling Daniel," he started and then the wicked thought dawned in my brain. Grabbing his scrawny little arm, I dragged him bodily from the room. He's a strong little sucker, but I managed to get him up another flight of stairs into some guest room that I don't think had ever had a guest.

I shoved him into one of the closets and struggled to slam the door against him. He was seething and sputtering.

"Aw, shut up already, would you?" I muttered at him. "Try to make me all scared 'cause of mean ol'Marius? Well, try this on for size, pea brain. If you scream and disturb Armand's beauty sleep, Marius will kill you. Or, if you break down this door and screw up his house, Marius will kill you. Think about it." I swear to God, he was so stupid that he stopped fighting and let me shut the closet door. It was a neat old door with a skeleton key which I quickly turned into place. I left the room; there was silence. What a moron.

As I was walking down to the sitting room again, I felt a hand on my arm. I thought it was Marius and turned around already apologizing. I met a big grin; it was Lestat.

"What are you so guilty about, Daniel?" I cringed.

"Nothing."

"Well, then, since you are perfectly innocent, I'd better make sure everyone stays out of that upstairs room." I blinked a couple of times. The Brat Prince was going to help me?

"Of course," he answered, reading my thoughts. "If I can't be causing trouble, I sure as hell better be helping someone else cause some." We grinned at each other. Kindred spirits.

I galloped down the rest of the stairs, running into Armand at the bottom.

"Love, close your eyes." I did, expecting him to hit me or something. Instead he slipped something around my neck. "Alright, open them." I did and just had to kiss that angel smile.

"What did you do, Armand?" He took my hand and put it on my chest. There was something laying on my shirt. I angled my head down at a weird angle to look at it. It was that locket with his blood in it that I hadn't had in so long. I didn't ask where he'd gotten it again. I just grabbed him in a big hug and just held him. We were back together and better than ever. I knew it was almost dawn as he tugged me down to the cellar. But I was already making plans as he kissed me good night, or good morning, or whatever. All I needed now to make my life complete was a new car. A new Corvette maybe. Or an antique Corvette. Didn't matter. As long as my imp is in it with me, letting his crazy curly hair get all messed up by the wind. Dimly, I heard the piano above let out the dulcet tones of Black Sabbath. I smiled in the darkness. It's good to be the Vampire Daniel.

THE END...FINALLY