Um. <shrug> I dunno, I've been thinking about this for a very long time, and the ideas finally coalesced somehow tonight. Joy Lyn, this is for you... hope you like!

AU, Yaoi, OOC, Crossover (GW and Forever Knight), Vampires, Flashbacks, Angst because FK's just that way, Sap, and my weird take on it all. Spoilers for FK's really really horrid ending.

Neither shows belong to me. GW would have a lot more bishounen boinking, and FK would *not* have ended like *that*.

Conversations with the Past

[An unimportant time. A long-forgotten city. In a club run for the pleasures of a very specific clientele.]

Sipping at the wine-laced blood in his cup, LaCroix looked speculatively at the mass of gyrating bodies on the dance floor of the club. Strange, how familiar it all was.

He snorted at his own foolishness. Of course it felt familiar. It hadn't been so very long ago that he had owned a similar nightclub, watching the mingled flock of mortals and vampires like a singularly paternal wolf.

LaCroix swirled the dark red liquid of his drink, turning his thoughts away from that time. That chapter of his life was gone, closed forever with the swift downward plunge of a stake. It was only on nights like this one that he even permitted himself to remember those days.

Silently, he toasted the shadows of the past.

Nicholas... where ever you may be... I hope you and your doctor have found what you were looking for.


I guess you could say that I've always been the one to take the romantic leads in our relationship.

It's not that he's particularly passive, of course--quite the opposite, he's a real animal in bed--but it's always taken quite an effort to force him past his guilt to the point that he'll forgive himself enough to cut loose and enjoy the present with its joys.

It's one of the most annoying traits he has. Sometimes, in my weaker moments, it's also what I find most endearing about him.

He's always carried the air of the tragic hero wrapped tightly around his shoulders, the fallen angel, the martyr. In my less patient moments, I sometimes have to restrain myself from grabbing his shoulders and trying to shake some sense into his head. But it never quite works, and I've learned to accept this personality trait of his.

Fortunately for me, this time around it's much less pronounced. Or, alternatively, this time he's much more reserved than then, and carries his burdens silently.

He doesn't remember.

I'm glad.

It's always been my gift to tease his secrets out of him, to get into his head and find out what makes him tick. As much as any person can know another, I know him. I know what his nightmares are--why it should be that he has an affection for puppies, and why he sometimes pauses by a bed of flowers just to think. I know the extents of his training, and the difficulty he still has breaking out of it just to be himself.

That's why I'm so glad that I'm the one who does remember. Given his penchant for wallowing in angst (I love him, but damn it, he likes to wallow!), he does not need to knw our history.

It's enough that I remember.


Duo paused on the street corner, looking out into the shadows cast by the streetlamps. He couldn't hear anything, shouldn't have had a reason at all to stop, but that didn't matter. Finally he heaved a sigh. "I know you're there. Why don't you come out and be sociable?"

Velvet smooth tones answered him. "This breaks a great many rules, you know."

Duo grinned at the figure that gradually separated itself from the gloom. "I've never been much for rules, you know."

A dry chuckle. "I've noticed."

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Duo casually leaned against a wall. "Been a long time, LaCroix."

"Yes. It has." LaCroix paused. "Time seems to have been good to you."

The young pilot laughed, briefly. "I suppose." He glanced down. "I must say, it's given me a rather unique perspective... not many get a chance to see how the other half lives."

"Indeed, they don't. It must have been... startling."

"Try damned fucking weird." Duo turned serious. "But enough of the chitchat. Both of us have valuable time, ne?"

"Some of us more than others," LaCroix observed drily.

Duo shrugged. "Be that as it may. You've been shadowing us lately."

"My, my, how observant of you."

"LaCroix, give me some credit, please. I may not be a member of your... community... but even we mortals are capable of some discernment," Duo retorted. "If this has anything at all to do with a twisted plan for him, so help me God--"

LaCroix waved a dismissive hand. "Calm yourself, my dear--boy. I assure you, I have nothing but honorable intentions toward you and... what's his name now?"


"You and Heero. I assume he does not remember?"

Duo shook his head sharply, once. "No. I've tried a dozen different angles, but he honestly has no clue. Hell, he's too damn practical to even admit that your kind exist."

LaCroix smiled, and Duo somehow felt that it was genuine. "Good. It's better this way."

"Yes," Duo agreed, without rancor. "He's happier, now. Even if he'd rather cut his throat than admit it."

"Ah. I will not trouble you again..." LaCroix paused.

"Duo. Duo Maxwell."

"Duo. Take care of him--see to it that he does not waste his second chance, hm?"

"Of course." Duo pushed away from the wall, then looked back over his shoulder. "Take care of yourself, LaCroix."

The whispered reply barely reached his ears. "My dear child, taking care of myself is what I do best."

Duo chuckled quietly to himself, and turned his steps home. Heero was waiting, after all.


Er... did that make sense? I hope so...