A little smile back, one that must be familiar because Louis had worn it often in New Orleans. Worn it each time he intended to get up to something, each time they were out and the night was going well, and Louis had something to whisper into Lestat's ear or tease him with over the table.

"I think if he goes, she will go with him," Louis says, very serious in his estimation in spite of the levity in his face. "So maybe he needs to be asked to leave. There is no tolerance here for fighting."

Aware they are going to ruin someone's night. Louis is comfortable with the concept. Except, there is a caveat—

"If I let him hit me, you'll have to promise not to take it personally."