Merry Christmas! Disclaimers: I don't own any rights to Nick and LaCroix, I just borrowed them from Sony for a quick gift exchange. May be archived on Fanfic2.com and the FTP site. Anyone else, just ask! :) ============================== Part 1 LaCroix felt Nicholas enter the Raven as a commercial came on. He exited the sound booth and unerringly found his wayward son at the bar, chatting amiably with Miklos. He turned when he felt LaCroix approach. Miklos already had a glass of bloodwine ready for him. “Merry Christmas LaCroix.” Nick held his hand out to his sire. LaCroix frowned but took it. It was the twenty-third of December, and Christmas wasn’t for a few more days. “Well, Nicholas. You are a bit early, are you not?” “I’m going out of town this year and I wanted to drop by to wish you a happy holiday.” He pulled a small package out of his overcoat pocket. “This is for you. Open it whenever you want to.” LaCroix’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why, thank you, Nicholas. I have to return to my show, but if you have the time to wait, my broadcast will be ending in an hour.” Nick smiled. “Sure, I’m off tonight.” LaCroix took the small package with him into the booth and placed it before him on the console. He sat back down just as the commercial ended, contemplating the silver wrapped gift in front of him, tied with a green ribbon “Tonight we started talking about darkness and the fact that light cannot exist without the dark, nor day without night. I would like to expand that thought to include the concept that love cannot exist without hate, hope without despair. In this season of joy and peace, I put forth that there can be no joy without misery; peace cannot exist without war. To each positive force there is an equally strong, equally necessary, negativity. To shun the existence of the one is to deny the very mechanics of the universe. What say you, my children of night time’s darkness?” ========= Kristen Fife, 12/25/2004 all rights reserved. Nick sat at the bar, watching the patrons of the Raven dance, socialize and ignore the world outside. He reflected that things had changed so little over the centuries in some respects. Time truly was transient in so many ways, and even mankind changed little over the years. Miklos put a glass of bovine blood wine in front of him and he lifted his glass in thanks to the bartender. He took a sip, ignoring the lifeless taste, as always. A young woman, scantily clad in black velvet, sidled over to him. He could hear her heartbeat over the music playing, and smell her rich blood under her skin. “Hi, I’m Melody. Buy me a drink?” Her voice was low and sultry, her dark her set off a heart shaped face with hazel eyes. He smiled at her and motioned to Miklos. “I’m Nick. What would you like?” “How about what you’re drinking?” He laughed. “You probably wouldn’t want exactly what I’m drinking.” He looked at Miklos. “Can you please get the lady a red wine, something simple? Thanks.” He turned back to Melody. “So Nick, I’ve seen you in here a few times, but you aren’t a regular. What’s your story?” Nick looked at her, and smiled. “I’ve been friends with the owner for a very long time. I just stopped in to give him his Christmas gift. He’s finishing up his broadcast.” “Oh, that tall blond guy, the Nightcrawler? I listen to him sometimes in the car. Has he always been so gloomy?” Nick laughed. “Yes, he has. But he has his good moments. They’re just few and far between.” She sipped her wine. “Hmmm. So, what about you? What do you do for fun?” Nick took a drink of his own blood wine. “I’m a cop.” Melody stood up straight. “Oh, really. That’s fascinating. Um, thanks for the wine, it was nice to meet you, Nick. I have to get back to my…date. Merry Christmas.” She hurried away. Nick grinned to himself, wondering what illegal activities she was involved in that made her so nervous. Unless she showed up next to a dead body while he was here, he didn’t really care. He turned back to watch the crowds, losing himself in people watching. ============== Kristen Fife, 12/25/2004 disclaimers in part 1. All rights reserved. Suddenly, LaCroix was next to him, his broadcast concluded. He motioned for Nick to follow him up to his apartment. The silver box was in his hand. They entered into the living room, where a fire was merrily blazing in the fireplace. LaCroix motioned for Nick to sit down, and pulled a bottle of cow’s blood out of the refrigerator, unable to mask his distaste as he poured a glass for his son. He poured a glass of the Raven Reserve for himself, then walked over to the chair where Nick was sitting, handing him the glass. Nick sniffed it and his eyebrows rose in shock. “Thank you, LaCroix.” LaCroix didn’t say anything, just walked over to the mantle and retrieved a wooden box which he handed silently to Nick. It wasn’t wrapped, but the box was intricately carved and decorative. “Merry Christmas, Nicholas.” He sat down opposite his protégé. Both of them looked expectantly at the other. Nick cleared his throat. “Should I open the box?” LaCroix looked at him sardonically. “If you would like to see the contents, most likely you should.” Nick opened the box and found a bound book inside. It was obviously old. He reverently pulled it out, gazing at the spine, which proclaimed the book to be “A Christmas Carol” by Dickens. He opened the cover and his eyes grew wide as he saw the author’s signature and realized that it was a signed, first edition of the famous tale. “LaCroix, it’s amazing. Thank you.” He smiled at his sire, and LaCroix picked up his flow of gratitude along their link. “You are quite welcome, Nicholas.” He untied the green bow on the box in his hand, and opened the small box. Inside was a black velvet jewelry box. His eyes opened wide and he glanced at Nick, who was grinning. He lifted the lid, and nestled inside was an antique silver pocket watch. He pulled it out, and carefully opened it. On the back of the front piece was an engraving. “If we take eternity to mean not infinite temporal duration but timelessness, then eternal life belongs to those who live in the present. – Ludwig Wittgenstein” “Nicholas, it is exquisite. Thank you, I shall treasure it.” An awkward silence descended on them. Nick finally stood up. “Well, to all a good night. Thank you very much for the book, LaCroix. Merry Christmas. I’ll see you after the New Year.” He held out his hand. LaCroix stood up, shook it, and walked his son to the door. After Nicholas had left, he once again opened the watch and read the inscription. He pondered the words for a few moments before putting it in his pocket, a smile on his face at the look of pleasure on his son’s face. ======================== Kristen Fife 12/25/2004 Disclaimers in part 1, all rights reserved. ======================= I've been writing stories for family members for this holiday season, so was inclined toward literary gifts this holiday season. God bless us one and all! -Kristen