Snapshots II: Alex
by Te
10/98

Disclaimers: Alex isn't mine, Anatoly is. Stay back.

Spoilers: Tiny, tiny one for Terma. 

Summary: A few more glimpses.

Ratings Note/Warnings: R for m/m interaction, language,
dark things. I have been assured by damned near *all* my
pre-readers that there is scary stuff ahead. You've been 
warned.

Author's Note: A look at things through Alex's eyes.

Acknowledgments: To Dawn Sharon for being way cool, as
always. To Sister Blue for showing me love. To Dreamerlea
for many helpful suggestions, and to Rye for fine beta.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Snapshots II: Alex
by Te
Daddy793@aol.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just one kiss
>From my lips...
     --"Killer Wolf" by Danzig

"OK, guys, what's the joke?"

Silence, but three pairs of eyes glittered at him with 
palpable mirth. Alex remembered Peskow's palpable 
resentment at being called out of retirement. Wondered if 
the old bastard had set him up.

"This one, Ana?"

"Yes, Natalia, I think so."

The one called Ana was thin, and perhaps two or three 
inches shorter than Alex. His hair was dark and elegantly 
styled. Almost too elegant. His eyes were blue and

//dangerous//

compelling. Alex looked toward the exit, but he suddenly 
felt a thousand pounds heavier. Feeble and trapped in
the antique wing chair.

"What... what did you give me?" His voice was slow and 
slurred on his tongue. He felt stupid with languor. A blink 
and they were arrayed before him, Natalia and the other 
man stroking his arm, Ana nuzzling his face. Sniffing him
with apparent pleasure.

"Nothing, Alexei. Yet."

The knowledge dawned on him with a bright horror, 
piercing the haze, shattering in his mind.

"Christ, no--"

The first bite was a subtle nick into the inside of his 
elbow, the second a vicious one to the wrist. Before he 
could cry out Ana claimed his mouth with his own, and his 
tongue was cool and rough. The scream dissolved into a 
shivering moan. He had never wanted the love of dead 
things.

"Hush, beautiful one. It will be over soon."

And when the teeth sank into his throat he no longer had
either the will or ability to scream.

******

One must eat the other who runs free before him. 
Put them right into his mouth,
While fantasizing
The beauty of his movements. 
A sensation not unlike
Slapping yourself in the face...
     -- "Of Course" by Jane's Addiction

Alex stood on the balcony in the Hall, taking in the scene
below. All the chandeliers were lit, the elegant mosaic of
the floor waxed to a brilliant shine. Josef, tall and 
broad, held a matronly woman by one wrist, arm around her 
thick waist. Natalia, a knife-blade thin woman draped in 
ancient lace, gripped a young boy by the shoulders. The 
mortals were struggling helplessly, heads tossing from side 
to side, cursing fluently. Josef and Natalia were utterly 
still, faces frozen in a mockery of gaiety. Mannequins of 
marble. Josef was painted like a clown above his impeccable 
tuxedo. 

The music started, a slow grind of Strauss from some hidden
record player, and the vampires began to dance. A graceful,
implacable whirl, mortals following helplessly. One of the 
farmboy's legs slipped out awkwardly, and the sickening 
crack of a broken ankle sent echoes throughout the room.

Alex remembered endless scenes of tragedy from the 
American news, how the foreign cries of suffering had their
own music. He wondered when the sound of Russian had
become so horrifyingly beautiful. So meaningless.

"Why... why are they doing this?"

Anatoly spoke from behind him. "It's only a game, my 
beautiful one."

"But it seems so... cruel."

"The best games are."

Alex winced, turned away.

"Alexei... it isn't just cruel for the victims, you know."

"How do you mean? Isn't this is all about distance? Seems
rather cowardly, Anatoly."

"And you knew all their names? Kissed the children? Fucked
the wives?"

"That's not--"

"No, I know. But it isn't about distance at all. Later, 
Natalia will remember what it was like to weep. Josef will 
stroke his wife's wedding gown until it starts to crumble a 
little more."

"The rebirth of memory... Is this... is this the only way 
it can be done?"

Anatoly slipped his arms around Alex's waist, rested his 
head between the shoulderblades. "We all find our own 
ways."

******

This life--
This life is great.
     -- "Better When You're Not Alone" by Black Crowes

Alex tamped the last sods into place and opened himself to 
the aging night. It was time to head home, but Anatoly 
pounced before he could get far.

Alex giggled. "What are you *doing*?"

"You're a very messy eater, beautiful one."

The slide and rasp of the older man's tongue was impossible
to resist. Such a simple thing -- old and animalistic. He 
felt primitive and strong. He felt the world turn, and 
wondered if he'd live to see the stars change. 

"Mmm... yes, kiss me, Ana--"

"Another reason to have a... partner, Alexei. No, no, not 
here... but you'll forgive me if I just take a little 
taste, yes?"

Velvet slide of teeth into his throat and Alex felt his 
spine melt. There was pain -- no way to deny that -- but 
Anatoly was strong around him. A cool wall of affection and 
his need was clear and clean. He felt a fleeting urge to 
surrender totally -- lean back and offer his new life as a 
gift for this pleasure -- but he knew Ana would be 
offended.

And he truly didn't wish for death. 

******

A city of candles...
I am a proud man anyway.
     --"Three Days" by Jane's Addiction

Alex took in the bedroom with stunned horror. Every surface 
save for the bed itself was adorned with candles, all 
white, all in various stages of melt. The sweet and mildly 
nutty scent of wax filled the air. 

"Jesus, Ana! What is this, the vampire version of an 
obstacle course? I didn't feed *that* much last night."

"I almost wish I'd kept you and fed you for a little while 
first..."

Alex felt his mouth twist. This would never be a 
comfortable issue. "And why is that?"

"You have the look of a man who needs a belly, beautiful 
one."

"An eternity of chub? No thanks, Ana."

"Tsk. In the old days--"

Alex shut him up with a kiss. A simple ploy, but he didn't 
feel up to much else.  He was sleepy with the weight of his 
victims and Ana's mouth was a temptation not to be denied.

After a time Alex pulled away, the tang of iron a familiar 
spice to his affection. "Why the candles?"

"Atmosphere, beautiful one. You should never underestimate
the power of stage-dressing."

"Drama queen."

"You've mentioned that."

Alex chuckled, nuzzled into the other man's throat and 
began to nudge him carefully backwards toward the bed. "And
why do we need atmosphere tonight, Ana?"

The taste of the older man's skin was a mystery, as always. 
Too faint to be sweat, a ghost of mortality crumbled. When 
the silence lengthened he was unsurprised, having long 
grown accustomed to the incoherency of lust. It was one 
touchstone among many and he would hold to that.

A moan, and he thought of the plane ticket in his battered
coat -- they had never shopped for a new one -- he thought
of the games he would play once back on American shores.
There was business to be taken care of, however 
meaningless in the light of his new life.

Alex wanted something he couldn't quite name, and the
man beneath him could not provide it. But there was no 
sadness in the thought -- he had forever, after all, and 
the thought of meeting Anatoly again in a year or ten 
was pleasant.  

For now, though, there were harsh cries and a tide of iron 
to take his pleasure in. He had long since learned that 
regret in times like these was a game for fools.

~~~~
End.
~~~~

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