Time: Two nights after "Howling of Wolves", sometime around midnight after Frank has gotten off 2nd shift (after story "Interrogations"
)Frank Kouhanek sits in the study of the Kindred Prince of San Francisco, waiting for said Prince to come into the room. The detective nervously bounces a foot, tapping on the arm of the chair, trying to think of anything but what he's here for... and failing for he very much wants to be here.
Agitated, he leaps out of the chair yet again and begins to pace. His thoughts aren't coherent, rambling... [Julian... Gangrel... must ask Sonny... hope Cash... if Julian doesn't...]
Julian Luna opens the door quietly and steps inside to find the mortal detective wearing a hole in his rugs. [He's cute when he's nervous. No, cute isn't the right word. Provocative. That's it.] Julian's calm exterior belies a touch of nervousness on his own part. He is about to help bring a new childe into the Kindred world, one he wants very much. "Frank, quit pacing. I just had that rug cleaned," he chides playfully, following with a wide smile.
Frank stops suddenly, abashed. "Oh, shit, Julian, I'm sorry..." He runs a hand through his hair, and fakes a grin. "Okay, you're teasing, right? Right."
"Yes, I'm teasing," Julian laughs, crossing his arms on his chest. "You take life way too seriously, my friend."
The mortal takes a deep breath, making an attempt to relax. "It could be because I've got some serious stuff to deal with, Julian." Frank looks the prince in the eyes. "And you know what that is."
The laughter dissipates as Julian's expression turns to pleasant concern. He clamps down mentally, shifting his focus momentarily from friend to Prince. "I do, Frank. I assume you've made some decisions." Julian moves to stand beside where the detective had stopped pacing.
Frank's heart nearly skips a beat as the Kindred nears. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he finally crosses his arms over his chest. "Ah, yeah..." The arms uncross already, a finger ready to make a point. "Julian, I know I cannot survive under your protection... or Sonny's... forever. I'm a liability. I know that a mortal in my situation has choices to make. And... well, I think I've made one."
The closeness of the Prince, as always, has the effect of drawing Frank in. Unconsciously he edges closer. A great deal of this decision is based on the character of the man standing beside him. A man both ruthless and fair, kind and cunning. But his heart, though cold, is generous.
"I've made a promise to protect you, and I'll do it with my dying breath," Julian begins. [Although now less for Alexandra than for myself.] His arms uncross, one hand running up along the side of his neck, brushing up the hair slightly around the ear, the other dropping to his side. [I know why Cash stands the way he does. What do you do with your hands when you're wanting to put wrap them around someone and can't.]
"But you're right. None of us can protect you forever, not if you're mortal." Julian consciously closes the distance between himself and the mortal, this man who has evolved from his hunter into would-be lover. "Frank, what do you want?"
His lips parting, half in surprise, half in an unnamed desire, Frank finds his hand settling on Julian's arm. "I want to live..." He pauses, his hand moving in a light caress, "... this life. Your life." He wets his lips, the rest of his mouth gone dry. "I want the Embrace, Julian."
Julian releases the breath he didn't realize he had been holding, a welcomed relief. He moves his hand over to rest atop Frank's. "And we want you, Frank." He takes Frank's hand and pulls the detective in closer, daring to brush his lips against the mortal's. "I want you, Frank ... to be part of this life."
The kiss shivers through Frank's entire being, and something in him leaps with recognition - the taste of Wild that Alexandra instilled in him with her Ventrue blood? Nevertheless, Frank feels hot and cold all at once. "Julian..." he breathes. "You do?" The fact that another man has just kissed him perhaps hasn't registered yet... or even matters at this point.
Julian resists the temptation to take it farther. [Patience, Luna. Don't rush it.] He holds steady against Frank's hand, not letting any distance come between them at this point. "Yes, Frank, I do. You're an asset to Kindred ... and important to me."
The mortal's fingers squeeze ever so lightly, as if clinging. "Wow, I mean..." Half of him wants to hug Julian the other half wants to dance away laughing in relief. "Oh, man, I never thought you'd ever think of me as an 'asset', Julian... and the most important thing I've done to you is take Alexandra from you and try to kill you." His voice, though ironic, is tinged still with wonder.
Julian returns the squeeze, smiling. "Frank, you know more about us than most any human, and you haven't turned away. You've proven to be invaluable more than once," the prince reassures.
Frank isn't easily convinced. "I tried to kill you, Julian. I SHOT you."
The prince's voice takes on a melancholic hint as he reaches his free hand to touch Frank's cheek. "You didn't take Alexandra from me. I had lost her long before you two met." Then a wry smile caresses his lips. "As for trying to kill me, well ... that's history."
At the touch, the detective looks wondering into the prince's eyes. "Julian, there's something else about this we need to discuss. I guess... you'd want to do it..." He leans into the touch a little.
"Want to? Yes. Badly," Julian says, gently rubbing the detective's pale skin. He meets Kouhanek's gaze straight on, a look of sadness tinged with promise in his eyes. "But I can't. It wouldn't work for you to be Ventrue, Frank."
[Badly, he wants to Embrace me badly,] is all Frank can register for the moment, feeling twinges for reasons he can't fully process yet, most of them having to do with Julian's touch. Then the words sink in. [Wouldn't... work...] "I... I know," Frank stammers, feeling a flood of relief.
Julian clamps down on himself again, refocusing on the matter at hand, Embracing Frank, rather than the desire swelling inside him. It's obvious, even without the Kindred senses, that Frank is reeling with emotion. Julian takes a step back, slowly starting to release the other's hand. "Frank, there are other clans that would welcome you with open arms ... the Gangrel for instance."
Frank keeps the prince's fingers in his a moment longer. "Would they? I..." His eyes dart aside, his nervousness returning. "I don't even know Cash, have barely spoken with him." He makes himself look the prince in the eye again, releasing his hand finally. "You think I'd make a Gangrel? Why?"
Julian reluctantly makes the final release. [Another time.] He sighs. "Well, let's see," Julian starts to enumerate the reasons on his fingertips. "You're a touch unconventional. You fly in the face of authority. You know the streets. You hate the Brujah nearly as much as Cash. Should I continue?" He looks up, smiling.
The mortal actually manages to smirk. "Nah, you got me," he murmurs, and begins to relax. "But, hey, what is Cash going to think of me? I don't KNOW the man, Julian." Again, Frank's hands begin to gesture his nervous energy. "Can you talk to him?"
Julian reaches his arm around Frank's shoulder, clutching his shoulder, as much trying to contain the mortal's nervous energy as anything. "I've already talked with him. He's going to welcome you with open arms," Julian reassures. "There's something of a history with our bloodlines. We get along very well. You'll find you and Cash have more in common than you think."
The weight of the arm around his shoulders is reassuring, and Frank starts to calm again. "Damn, Julian, I want this... you KNOW I do, but sometimes when I think about becoming... becoming Kindred, it scares me shitless. You know me, I'm a lone wolf cop for the most part, a seeker after justice, who's barely over the fact that Kindred are NOT all evil or monsters, and here... well..."
Something in him seems to collapse, and he sags against Julian for a moment before straightening. "I'm all right," Frank says quickly, shrugging off the arm, moving away from the other man. "Just need to adjust..." He stops, a couple paces away, and turns and faces Julian again. "I think I might feel a lot better after I talk to Cash, you know?" A wan smile returns. Frank is trying.
"Okay, Frank, okay," Julian pleads, putting up his hands to halt the detective's progress. "Just stop the pacing. Please." He walks over to the desk and makes a quick in-house call. "Cash will be here in a few minutes, and you can talk directly with him."
"Okay, okay," Frank returns, and flops back down in his original chair. "This is my life we're doing stuff to here, Julian, I can't help but want this to go... right."
Julian walks to stand by the fireplace. "It will be fine, Frank. Just relax. Take a deep breath. You're among friends."
"Right, friends." The detective closes his eyes for a moment, composing himself.
"My lord?" Cash's voice from outside the door is low, but clear. But Julian can feel in their link the buzz of nervous anticipation.
The eyes of the mortal fly open. It is time.
[Just stay put, Frank. If you start pacing again, I think I will go crazy.] Julian shakes his head slightly, thinking of how Cash used to pace incessantly before he broke the Gangrel of the habit. "Come in, Cash."
[So he has the 'wear a hole in the rug' part of being a Gangrel down pat, eh?] Cash opens the door and enters, the 'prowl' in his walk just slightly in evidence. He nods at the mortal with a slight smile, but goes directly to Julian, "My prince," he murmurs, taking the Ventrue's hand and brushing his lips over the back of it. Not the full formal greeting, but still acknowledging his dominion.
Frank watches the Gangrel primogen, glued to his movements. He's glad to be sitting down right now, so he doesn't think of running away. Not that he wants to, of course. He's just afraid he would.
Julian turns his kissed hand over to cup Cash's chin, lifting the Gangrel's face up and to his. His other hand snakes up around Cash's neck and he pulls his lover toward him, claiming his lips with a firm kiss.
The kiss is hard, but brief, more a statement of possession and affirmation of the relationship than to spark any real passion.
The eyes of the mortal widen at what is obviously a kiss between lovers... Sonny had TOLD Frank, he did, but until now, the truth of the Kindred's more open sexuality hadn't exactly been in evidence. More... twinges.
"Beloved," Cash murmurs against Julian's lips as they break the kiss, too low to reach the mortal's ears.
"Frank," Cash nods to the mortal, taking in the wide eyes and slightly elevated heartbeat, noting the barely restrained flight. "I understand you want to talk to me." Cash perches on the edge of Julian's desk as Julian settles down in his big leather chair behind the oaken expanse.
"Cara mia," Julian endears quietly as his lover takes control of the conversation.
Frank clears his throat, shifts in his chair, as yet still a bit uneasy with the fact that his potential prince and his potential sire are lovers. He looks sidelong at Julian, wondering, then back up to the Gangrel. "Yeah, I guess I do."
Cash begins, "Sonny tells me you have some questions - about my clan, about our life in the dark, about me personally. I may not answer everything, but you can ask." Cash settles down a little more comfortably, swinging one denim clad leg slightly. [All the questions he had before, my lord. I wonder which one he will ask first.]
"Go ahead, Frank," Julian says, settling back into the chair. "You can ask anything ... anything at all."
Frank clasps his hands in front of him, which feels better than gripping the arms of his chair like it was an electric one. "Did you choose to become Kindred, Cash?" he blurts out before realizing the question was one the old Frank of a few months ago would have asked. It's perhaps not exactly the most sensitive way to start.
"I chose to continue to live." Cash's eyes take on a somber cast. "You have to understand, Frank, I was Embraced in 1952. At the height of the clan wars. The Gangrel needed warriors and I was fresh from the Army, spending the last of my mustering out pay. I had to make the decision in a split second, in a cold, wet alley behind a bar. 'Live or die, Soldier Boy' " Cash quotes Stevie's words.
"Man, that sucks," Frank murmurs, getting a certain hot look in his eye that Julian would recognize.
"Long time ago, man. In the end, I think I choose the right path."
"Frank, you're familiar with Cash's sire, I believe," Julian says dispassionately. "Stevie Ray. The one you found incinerated on the rooftop." [Sorry for the blunt description, love.]
[I sat there when Daedalus brought his body home, beloved. I had respect for the man, but little love.]
Frank leans forward in his chair, paling. "That was... your sire, Cash? Oh, my God... ah... I'm sorry..." He has no idea what to say, for Cash doesn't likely look on the memory of his sire with fondness.
"I owed him respect, Frank, and honor, but not love. Kindred make childer for many reasons. I was useful to him, but not loved." [Not until I came to this house.]
Nodding, the mortal relaxes again. "And... you have found love." He nods toward Julian. To his amazement, the notion is getting more comfortable. [Perhaps I want this so that I can find out that the darkness is not complete on that side, that light exists in any life, even this one.]
[Loved ... and lusted after and ... get it out of your head, Luna. Embrace now, fuck later.] Julian's face remains composed, his attention on helping Cash to answer Frank's questions.
"Yes." Warmth steals into that single word. "The Kindred are, by and large, a passionate race, and sometimes within the passion one finds love." [Ummm, do I tell him now about our history, Julian? We've been lovers longer than he's been alive - off and on.]
[Beautifully put, little one. Tell him what you think he needs to know,] Julian replies to his lover.
"Passion!" Frank chuckles with the irony. "That's why I'm sitting here, Cash, I've been touched by Kindred passion. Alexandra's blood..." He trails off, thinking of the fire in his veins, faded now, but still banked. "Is it hard... to control... that? The... " he gulps, then gets out the words, "urges?"
"Sometimes it's *very* hard. The passion, the anger, the Hunger... you have to be a strong person or they overwhelm you. We call them 'the Beast within'. The first nights are hard, but you do learn control eventually." Cash's voice trails off... [Yeah, he needs to know] "You learn control or it's imposed on you. We police our own - remember Starkweather and Zane... No control."
"God, yes..." Frank blanches. He'd thrown Zane at Julian's feet, telling him that "We have no laws for what he did, but you do." And the mad serial killer Starkweather... The detective shudders. "How were they... before? Can you predict when someone can't control, isn't able to learn control?" A trickle of fear goes through him, thinking of his own times out of control. Shooting Julian Luna...
"Starkweather was made without permission, a rogue of a rogue bloodline. Zane..." Cash shakes his head mournfully. "Zane started believing his legend."
"Starkweather was also the product of his human parents," Julian interjects, reminding Frank of the conversation they once had. "He was out of control long before he became Kindred."
Frank's glance slips over to Julian. "Well, I didn't know my parents well," he admits, "my grandparents raised me... when I let them. I was on my own pretty early..." Thoughtful, he turns back to Cash. "Zane... was your friend, wasn't he."
"Yeah, makes it hard to be objective. But he drank like hell as a mortal and was out of control even then. But the Toreador loved his music..."
Nodding, Frank understands. "Yeah, well, I would not want to end up... out of control." He runs a hand through his hair again, a bit of the nervousness coming back. "Musicians can be a little nuts, I guess."
Cash shrugs. "And the Toreador as a clan aren't known for their stability, 'artistic temperament' they call it." Cash grimaces. "Gangrels are wild, Frank, never doubt it. We are warriors, men and women alike, every one of us. But we are also the most loyal, the other clan call us the 'dogs'. There is a reason we are the bodyguards of princes, we can't be bought, our word is everything to us. You won't end up like them, Frank, you are too stable as a mortal."
Frank snorts in disbelief. "Wild, but stable. Right. So, tell me about the Gangrel, then, Cash. Tell me about your clan." He pauses, then a rush of emotion slides in. "I need to know about you, Cash, before I can let..." He stops. Can't say it. "Tell me what I need to know," he adds, subsiding.
Cash runs his hand through his hair, unruly as ever, "I never thought about it from the point of view of a mortal, really. I just live it. This is harder than I thought it would be." Then he looks at the mortal with a glint in his eye. "You need to get past the word, Frank. If this goes as you wish, I shall *Embrace* you. You'll die to the mortal world and awake as a Kindred. Not saying the word doesn't change the reality."
[I can't believe I said that!!! Julian, I sounded like Archon!!!] Cash has that moment of panicked disbelief common to mortal parents the first time they say to their children the exact words and tone their own parents used.
Julian stifles a laugh at Cash's thoughts. "You're doing quite well," he says softly. "You're answering his questions."
Now Frank erupts from his chair, but he does not pace. Instead he stands partially facing away from the Kindred, as if he has a last little hurtle to leap over. Then, he turns. "You're right, Cash. I need to know about your clan, and I need to know *you* before you Embrace me." No hesitation now.
"Then come with me and meet more of us. I am not the only Gangrel in the city, not by a long shot. We have about 50 here, three or four bloodlines." Cash hops off the edge of the desk, ready for a road trip to the Haven, on any given night there should be a half dozen clansibs there.
"Okay, good," Frank agrees. "But I'm afraid I still just need to talk to you privately, more questions, you know... nothing I couldn't ask in front of Julian, of course." He glances aside at the prince as he gets up to follow Cash out to their bikes.
"I'll see you soon, Frank," the Prince murmurs, a small smile of satisfaction on his face.
The End
