Daniel had barely scratched the surface of evil, eccentric things in the mortal world, but now he's got double to go after, if he feels like it. And maybe he will, eventually. A few projects to publish 'posthumously', finished by a fictitious research assistant. Until then, the investigation of who the fuck is trying to kill us is taking at least lazy first place. He's not doing a great job running anything down right now, just hanging out on the last few stops of the book tour.
But soon, he knows, he'll go a little crazy after sitting mentally still for too long, and he'll have to track down the origins of handcuffs made for vampire strength. Among other things. Maybe none of these undead weirdos will tolerate an interview like Louis had, maybe he'll never ask one a single question face to face. But he still has to find out.
"Venn diagram of weird is still pretty circular, I'd bet," he says. "I just have to find the right beat. And, I guess, something that won't drive me nuts. Looking into somebody who only takes meetings at noon, shit like that. But I'll get there. I thought I retired once already, and still flew to Dubai."
(Daniel's eyes would still have changed even if Louis had been the one to turn him. He has to know that.)
(Maybe the Lioncourt bloodline would have gifted Daniel a shade of blue. Maybe it would have been green, maybe something else.
It would not be Armand's eyes, is the thing.
And he would still miss Daniel's blue eyes, even then.)
"I'm glad you did."
Obviously. Repetitive. Daniel knows this.
"I wondered if I was coming to you too late."
Doubt, doubting his own allure. The story that he gave to Daniel when he was young and they were both drunk, when Daniel was high, was it still enough to draw Daniel across the world?
Lucky for Louis that it was. Maybe bad luck for everyone else involved, including all of vampiredom. Including Daniel, even if Daniel has been militant in holding to the benefits.
Louis knows Armand didn't make it easy. Armand showed it to him, slivers enough for Louis to draw some conclusions of his own.
"Will you tell me what you're thinking about now?"
In which Louis is inquiring, broadly, about what curiosities Daniel might have idly acquired. He is keeping politely out of Daniel's head.
"Well," slight strain in his voice, finding that remark funny, and he's sure Louis won't understand why. He laughs a little as he continues after weighing his options on saying anything. "You almost were." Too late. Another year and he wouldn't have been able to travel, probably. How much is a year, to a century-old vampire? A blink? Does Louis know how close it was?
"Twenty years ago would have been ideal. Still kinda cute at fifty, but had the mileage. Sure, I was mid-breakdown for most of that decade, but who isn't, at that age? Might've been fun if I spent half the interview just throwing martini glasses at you."
Armand would have probably just killed him without transforming him, then.
"Right this second, mostly I'm thinking about you." Ask stupid questions, etc. "I'm working on this shit we're in. And I might go back to Medicare fraud being laundered by the US government."
A flash of memory, speaking to Armand of Daniel's mortality. Of turning him. Wishing to turn him, once all had been done.
No, Louis hadn't realized exactly how close they'd cut it. He had medical records, yes. Had an understanding of the illness, but not quite grasped the reality of—
Swift progression.
His fingers tighten, tighten over Daniel's own, tighten at the nape of his neck. Says nothing immediately, eyes moving over Daniel's face. Processing. Daniel says these other things, twenty years ago, martini glasses, Medicare fraud.
Doesn't laugh. Quiet, listening, looking at Daniel and thinking about the feeling of dread he'd felt, trying to tell Armand what it would be like to lose Daniel. Certainty that it was approaching, wishing to stave it off. Daniel's mortality had existed in abtract, until he was present.
And now it is swept neatly from the table.
Louis can shiver about all of this later. He can. He can set it aside now.
"You know everything there is to know about me," so what's left?
(The disorienting memory of Armand's hand in Daniel's hair overlaid with Louis' overlaid again with Armand's, memories and dreams distorted. Sticking in Louis' chest.)
"You wanna tell me about what you figured out about this shit we're in?"
"You're deeper than that. You just feel like shit about it lately."
So there. Louis still has a million things Daniel doesn't know, but—
"And I'm not gonna ask. I want to find out on my own, without trying to interview you. Which I'm awful at, so you might have to be patient with me as I figure out how to be a real person who has a friend."
Daniel, struggling with the idea of connections that don't end, because everything ends, for him. Family ties, marriages, professional contacts. No bridge unburned. But now they're immortal, and now they're tied together by this thing that was there, and then wasn't, and is here again.
He finally moves his other hand, lifting it to touch Louis' face gently.
"Nah," he says about things he's figured out. "I want you to come here so I can hug you, and then tell you some stupid story that's not in my memoir."
Louis contemplates for only a moment before he discards the uncertainty. Daniel is touching his face. Louis has a hand in his hair. They have survived all the worst things together. All their ugliest moments shared between them.
Louis lets Daniel have his assertions, his promises for the future. No argument just now, though maybe in the future he'll pick a fight over what he does or doesn't feel. To remind Daniel of their promises, the prospect of centuries together.
It is a short distance. Louis slides across it, lets Daniel draw him in.
Breathes out, thumb rubbing back and forth at the nape of Daniel's neck as they embrace.
Says, eventually, "Thanks."
For sticking around. For forgiving Louis. For being alive still.
Daniel is not much of a hugger, but there's something about Louis, especially now, reunited after so long and seeing him on the path to understanding himself and being his own person, that has turned Daniel into one specifically for him. Another element of transformation, perhaps. Some small thing that Louis gets to keep for himself, even if the rest of it was accidentally sacrificed to Armand.
"For what, annoying the shit out of you? Making the other night awkward with your employees? Shut up."
This all sounds very affectionate, of course. A squeeze, and then they can settle wherever is most comfortable, and pretend to have paid any attention at all to the movie. Another joint shared between them, which truly does nothing without being indulged in through someone else's blood, but feels calming in a socially bonding way.
Nothing to do but enjoy the rest of their night, and presumably say hello to Lestat whenever he rolls back in from taking e-meetings and finding wee-hours meal.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But soon, he knows, he'll go a little crazy after sitting mentally still for too long, and he'll have to track down the origins of handcuffs made for vampire strength. Among other things. Maybe none of these undead weirdos will tolerate an interview like Louis had, maybe he'll never ask one a single question face to face. But he still has to find out.
"Venn diagram of weird is still pretty circular, I'd bet," he says. "I just have to find the right beat. And, I guess, something that won't drive me nuts. Looking into somebody who only takes meetings at noon, shit like that. But I'll get there. I thought I retired once already, and still flew to Dubai."
(Daniel's eyes would still have changed even if Louis had been the one to turn him. He has to know that.)
no subject
It would not be Armand's eyes, is the thing.
And he would still miss Daniel's blue eyes, even then.)
"I'm glad you did."
Obviously. Repetitive. Daniel knows this.
"I wondered if I was coming to you too late."
Doubt, doubting his own allure. The story that he gave to Daniel when he was young and they were both drunk, when Daniel was high, was it still enough to draw Daniel across the world?
Lucky for Louis that it was. Maybe bad luck for everyone else involved, including all of vampiredom. Including Daniel, even if Daniel has been militant in holding to the benefits.
Louis knows Armand didn't make it easy. Armand showed it to him, slivers enough for Louis to draw some conclusions of his own.
"Will you tell me what you're thinking about now?"
In which Louis is inquiring, broadly, about what curiosities Daniel might have idly acquired. He is keeping politely out of Daniel's head.
no subject
"Twenty years ago would have been ideal. Still kinda cute at fifty, but had the mileage. Sure, I was mid-breakdown for most of that decade, but who isn't, at that age? Might've been fun if I spent half the interview just throwing martini glasses at you."
Armand would have probably just killed him without transforming him, then.
"Right this second, mostly I'm thinking about you." Ask stupid questions, etc. "I'm working on this shit we're in. And I might go back to Medicare fraud being laundered by the US government."
no subject
No, Louis hadn't realized exactly how close they'd cut it. He had medical records, yes. Had an understanding of the illness, but not quite grasped the reality of—
Swift progression.
His fingers tighten, tighten over Daniel's own, tighten at the nape of his neck. Says nothing immediately, eyes moving over Daniel's face. Processing. Daniel says these other things, twenty years ago, martini glasses, Medicare fraud.
Doesn't laugh. Quiet, listening, looking at Daniel and thinking about the feeling of dread he'd felt, trying to tell Armand what it would be like to lose Daniel. Certainty that it was approaching, wishing to stave it off. Daniel's mortality had existed in abtract, until he was present.
And now it is swept neatly from the table.
Louis can shiver about all of this later. He can. He can set it aside now.
"You know everything there is to know about me," so what's left?
(The disorienting memory of Armand's hand in Daniel's hair overlaid with Louis' overlaid again with Armand's, memories and dreams distorted. Sticking in Louis' chest.)
"You wanna tell me about what you figured out about this shit we're in?"
no subject
So there. Louis still has a million things Daniel doesn't know, but—
"And I'm not gonna ask. I want to find out on my own, without trying to interview you. Which I'm awful at, so you might have to be patient with me as I figure out how to be a real person who has a friend."
Daniel, struggling with the idea of connections that don't end, because everything ends, for him. Family ties, marriages, professional contacts. No bridge unburned. But now they're immortal, and now they're tied together by this thing that was there, and then wasn't, and is here again.
He finally moves his other hand, lifting it to touch Louis' face gently.
"Nah," he says about things he's figured out. "I want you to come here so I can hug you, and then tell you some stupid story that's not in my memoir."
That was a long pause. C'mere.
no subject
Louis contemplates for only a moment before he discards the uncertainty. Daniel is touching his face. Louis has a hand in his hair. They have survived all the worst things together. All their ugliest moments shared between them.
Louis lets Daniel have his assertions, his promises for the future. No argument just now, though maybe in the future he'll pick a fight over what he does or doesn't feel. To remind Daniel of their promises, the prospect of centuries together.
It is a short distance. Louis slides across it, lets Daniel draw him in.
Breathes out, thumb rubbing back and forth at the nape of Daniel's neck as they embrace.
Says, eventually, "Thanks."
For sticking around. For forgiving Louis. For being alive still.
no subject
"For what, annoying the shit out of you? Making the other night awkward with your employees? Shut up."
This all sounds very affectionate, of course. A squeeze, and then they can settle wherever is most comfortable, and pretend to have paid any attention at all to the movie. Another joint shared between them, which truly does nothing without being indulged in through someone else's blood, but feels calming in a socially bonding way.
Nothing to do but enjoy the rest of their night, and presumably say hello to Lestat whenever he rolls back in from taking e-meetings and finding wee-hours meal.
(Until something feels off?)