That Saturday evening found me sitting at Starbuck's Coffee in
Longwood, Florida, enjoying my caramel macciato. Across from me sat
my friend, Kimmy.  We were indulging in one of our favorite past
times, discussing the Anitaverse.  I had e-mailed her earlier that
week to let her know that I'd finally finished my latest fan art, of
the showdown scene between Anita and Damian at Dance Macabre from
TKD. She had replied that she couldn't wait to see it and asked that
I bring my other two fan art pics with me when we met that weekend.
One was a portrait of Jean-Claude from a scene in GP; the other was
of Asher from a scene in both OOTW and NIC.  She'd said thatt someone
she knew had asked to see them and wanted to meet the artist. Cool!


We were currently discussing songs for an Anitaverse CD she was
thinking about putting together. She laughed when I told her about
the incident with the song Little Red Riding Hood and a fan fic that
Gigs had written recently concerning Jason.  Kimmy glanced around
suddenly and got a strange, almost excited look on her face. Before I
could ask what was up, she said, "Tamara, you remember that song you
told me about the other week? The one you quoted the lyrics
to?"  "And So It Goes by Billy Joel? Yeah," I answered, wondering
where she was going with this.  "I haven't been able to find a copy
of it yet, but I was wanting to hear the tune," she said. "I remember
you saying it was haunting."  "What? You want me to sing it?" I
asked. "I guess I could. But if you don't mind, I'm gonna have to
close my eyes to concentrate on it.  Otherwise, the background music
on the sound system here will make me lose the tune."  She smiled and
nodded, "Okay."


(I am an introverted extrovert by nature. I know that sounds
contradictory. I just mean that I love attention as long as it's on
my terms and only when I want it, otherwise leave me alone. And two
things I love to do are sing and show off my artwork.)  So, closing
my eyes, I started to sing, keeping it low enough to keep from
attracting attention from the other customers.


In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along
I spoke to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I said too much
My silence is my self defense
And every time I've held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose
But if my silence --- made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to beak
And this is why my eyes are closed
It's just as well for all I've seen
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows
So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows


As i opened my eyes once I'd finished the song, several things
happened at once. I felt a hand stroke my hair close to the nape of
my neck, giving me chill bumps. I noticed a rapt expression on
Kimmy's face that I know wasn't because of my singing. I caught
movement out of the corner of my eye off to my left, the direction
Kimmy was gazing. From that direction came a rich male voice that had
an almost solid presence to it, "Brava!  Magnifique!!"  I turned to
the source of that velvety voice and found myself staring at none
other than Jean-Claude, himself. The hair, the eyes (which I
instinctively avoided even in my mild state of shock), the clothes,
even the damn burn scar peeking from behind the lace of his open
shirt front.  Next to him stood a small pale woman with a wealth of
black curls.  Had to be Ms. Anita Blake.


Okay, I've finally lost it, I told myself. Nothing for it but to ride
with it and see where it takes me.  Jean-Claude had a delighted,
almost gleeful expression on his face when I dared to glance at him
quickly. Anita's face was closed. She didn't look angry, but she
didn't look happy either.  This could get very... interesting, I
thought. Then I realized that I still felt a hand resting lightly on
the back of my neck, just under my hair. "Who...?" I started to ask
Kimmy. Mint scented breath brushed my left cheek close to my ear.
There was an underlying coppery smell to it.  "Your singing is tres
jolie, ma cherie," the whisper came in a voice so like to Jean-
laude's it was eerie. The chill bumps that had started to subside
came back with a vengeance, and i felt something amost like an
electric shock in my gut. Only one being could belong to that voice
if Jean-Claude was standing in front of me.
Asher.


The second the name formed in my mind, my vision blurred, and I
grasped the table as hard as I could to fight off the wave of panic
threatening to overtake me.  Panic later, Tammy, I told myself. Right
now, deal with this!  When my vision cleared, I was staring down the
barrel of Anita's gun.  The way she was standing, it wouldn't have
been apparent to any of the other patrons. Her expression had, if
anything, gotten colder.  Oddly enough, the same thing happened as
the last time someone had shoved a gun in my face, nearly twelve
years ago. (Armed robbery is an occupational hazard when you work in
a convenience store, which I did back then.) I wasn't frightened in
the least bit.... I was pissed off!  "What -- did -- I -- do?" I
nearly spat.  "Your eyes changed color. I'm not risking you shifting
right here, this close," she stated flatly, the gun never wavering.


Ah, that explained it.  "Ms. Blake, I am not a shapeshifter," I said
in a much calmer voice than I had used earlier. "Did they go from
grey to sea green?"  She nodded.  "They've always done that, ever
since I was a little kid," I explained.  "Any time I get excited,
upset, or experience any intense emotion, they go green on me. I
don't know why. They just do."  "Ma petite, believ it is safe to put
your weapon away," Jean-Claude soothed. Damn, but that voice was...
distracting. "She is speaking truth."  "Kimmy, is this the artist you
e-mailed us about?" Asher asked.  E-mailed them about?  "You knew
about this?" I demanded.  "Yes, this is Tamara," Kimmy answered him,
an evil grin on her face.  "And she brought the portraits with her."


Oh God! The fan art! They wanted to see them?!! I didn't know whether
to scowl or laugh. Even Anita was getting a half-amused look on her
face. I settled for a lop-sided grin as I looked across the table at
Kimmy.  "You are so dead," I joked.  She had the nerve to giggle and
smirk at me.  Yep, I was going to have to come up with a good one to
get her back for this.  A vaguely familiar-looking blonde guy picked
that moment to join the little party. Could he be Jason? He certainly
carried himself with that you-want-me-and-you-know-it attitude I had
always imagined him with. 


Then I realized why he looked so familiar.  "You! I thought I saw you
playing basketball the other night over at RDV Sportsplex!"  "Jason!
You went out in public down here?!" Anita exclaimed.  Jason went on
the defensive. "Relax, Anita! I was careful. jamil was with me, even
 And we wore disguises." Then to me he asked, "How did you recognize
me?"  "Oh come on," I snorted. "A short, white man on a basketball
court?!!  Oh yeah, you really blended in there." Anita grinned at
that observation.  Asher, who'd rmained behind me all this time, his
hand constantly brushing against my hair, the nape of my neck and my
shoulders, entered the conversation again. "How is it that you were
present to spot our reckless wolf, cherie?" Between the movements of
his hand and the caress of his voice, I would probably start purring
soon, if he didn't stop.  With some difficulty, I focused on the
question enough to form a coherent answer. "I work there. Third shift
housekeeping. 8:00 pm to 4:30 am."  "How in the world did you get
stuck with that schedule?" Anita asked.  "I requested that shift when
I hired on. After three years of working in an un-airconditioned
factory/warehouse in the heat of the day, I had to have a change.
Never did like getting up at 4 am anyway," I told her. "I enjoy
working nights."


I saw Jean-Claude shoot a meaningful glance at Asher, who was still
standing out of view behind me. I wondered what that was about, but
decided not to ask right then.  Asher had stopped "petting" me, but
now his hands rested on my shoulders. It struck me as an almost
possessive posture.  Normally, I can't stand for someone to loom over
me like that. But something about this just felt... right. He was
standing VERY close behind my chair, but not quite touching. I felt
that I could bump his belly if I just leaned my head back just a
little. At least, I hoped it would be his belly... had to remind
myself that he was tall.  With that thought in mind, I decided to not
lean back.  At least, not yet.


He leaned down by my ear again, the scent of his hair as it brushed
against my cheek was intoxicating. I wondered briefly if he was
deliberatly trying to seduce me, or if it was just me.  "May we see
these portraits we've been told about, cherie?" he whispered, then
quickly flicked his tongue against my ear. Definitely deliberate.  I
gasped. Kimmy's eyes widened like she couldn't believe what she'd
just seen. Anita scowled at Asher, whom I sensed was completely
unrepentant.  (He just seemed to be radiating smugness.) A look of
pure hunger flashed across Jean-Claude's face (a flaring of the
arduer?). And Jason just crouched there by the table grinning like a
mad monkey.  "Not if you keep distracting me like that, you can't," I
laughed shakily.  He just chuckled, making me shiver.


At least that took care of any stage fright I might've felt showing
them my artwork.  Since it was on top, I showed the showdown scene
between Anita and Damian first.  "Oh my God!" Anita gasped, leaning
in for a better look. "It's almost like you were there!"  "Oui," 
Jean-Claude agreed. "A few details are off on Damian's coat, and the sash
should have been under the coat, but it is very close to how it
actually looked. And she has captured an amazing likeness of you,
ma petite ." Trust him to notice the clothes first.  "Thank you," I
said. "But I couldn't have done it without Ms. Hamilton's vivid
descriptions. She is an illustrator's delight."  The next one made me
a little nervous. It was the portait of Jean-Claude standing in front
of Guilty Pleasures waiting for Anita's return to the bachelorette
party, as described in GP. I had gotten so sick of uniniated morons
telling me that it look like Michael Jackson simply because of the
tendril of hair hanging down loose and the frilly shirt. Dammit,
Michael was NEVER that pretty or quite that pale.


"Are you sure you've never been to St. Louis?" Jason asked and gave a
low whistle.  "Why?"  "Because that is exactly what the club looks
like," he said.  "And I'd almost swear Jean-Claude posed for this."
 I looked more closely at my  work then at Jean-Claude. Damn. The
resemblance was downright scary.  Especially considering that I
hadn't known he was REAL when I drew it.  "Yes, it does look like he
posed for it," Anita agreed, eyeing the master vampire rather
narrowly.  "I assure you, ma petite, I have never seen this woman
before," he protested to her accusing glare.  I just kept my mouth
shut. Survival tactic.  


Kimmy picked that moment to chime in. "Oooo! I know who's next!"
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I purred at her. Her answer was a
wicked grin. I hummed the first bar of Rubber Ducky and was gratified
to see her first blanche then blush a bright red.  "You wouldn't,"
she said in a voice suddenly gone hoarse.  "Try me," I smiled.
Dammit, if I had to be embarassed, then why not spread the joy?
 Before anyone could ask what that exchange was about, I went ahead
and pulled out the last of the pics. Asher, as I'd imagined he'd
appeared to Narcissus, leather shirt dangling in his grasp, when
he spoke the line,  "Whatever I wish?"  Oh God, this was
embarassing.  The coffee shop seemed to get very quiet.  Asher's
hands were still resting on my shoulders, but only lightly. In a
quite voice, so different from the seductive one he'd been using, he
whispered," You've drawn me so... beautiful."  I had to see him, his
face.  I just couldn't read that voice. I eased out of his grasp and
twisted around in my seat to look up at him.  I was instantly glad
that I'd remained sitting. What I was gazing up at would have floored
me. his hair cascaded to mid-chest like liquid gold.  His eyes,
sparkling with unshed tears, were the ice blue of a good topaz.
The scars that were visible through his hair only served to
accentuate his beauty rather than mar it.


Finally, I found my voice. "You are beautiful. I'm afraid i didn't do
you justice."  He smiled at that and lightly stroked my cheek with a
fingertip. I felt myself blush and a paralyzing jolt ran through me.
 A look of delight lit his face. "Your eyes really do turn green!" he
exclaimed. "Tamara, would you honor me by accompanying me for a brief
stroll?"  Uh oh. I had a feeling I was in trouble.  Alone, in the
dark, with a devastatingly handsome vampire? Yep, definitely trouble.
I looked forward to it.  "Now?" I asked.  "Oui." He was back to using
the "voice" again.  I gave a little shiver as I stood up and took his
outstretched hand.  Jean-Claude reached out and touched Asher's arm,
drawing our attention to him. He wore a look of concern. "Are you
sure about this, Asher?"  "Oui, mon ami. More sure than I've been
about anything for a ong time,"   he replied.  With that, he started
leading me toward the door. Jean-Claude's face relaxed into an
expression of relief as he released Asher's arm. 


"Woo! Go for it, Tamara!" Kimmy called out gleefully.  That did it. I
motioned for Asher to stop a moment just before we went out the door.
Turning back to the group we'd just left, I said, "Ask her about the
Tub Toy story." As we left the building, I saw the remaining visitors
focus on a blushing, stammering Kimmy.
I am evil.