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Daniel was sitting alone in the Dubai reading room, his laptop, Claudia’s diaries, and his own notebooks sprawled out around him on the table in a large and messy semicircle. He was trying to patch together a rough timeline of events, cross referencing with what Claudia had written all those years ago. It was tough, slow work, and he was appreciating the small moment of quiet that was currently being afforded to him.
Louis was taking a nap and Armand was… well, he had no idea what the other vampire was off doing, and he didn’t really care to find out, either. Knowing what he knew about Armand, it was most likely something evil or sadistic, probably even a wonderful fucked up mixture of the both. Point was, Daniel was currently alone, so he was taking the time to get some work done without any interruptions or distractions.
Pulling one of his notebooks closer, Daniel went to quickly write down another important date but, halfway through, his pen decided to give up on him. He frowned, grabbed another piece of blank paper, and scribbled harshly across the page. Still nothing. His pen was clearly out of ink, and Daniel sighed in irritation as he threw it back down again, watching it roll sadly and dejectedly across the table.
It wasn’t a big deal, really, it wasn’t, he was just tired and frustrated, that was all. This was nothing more than a slight irritation and he was just being dramatic about it. It wasn’t like Daniel wasn’t prepared, either. You didn’t win two Pulitzers without learning to carry a few spare pens around with you everywhere that you went. Leaning over, Daniel picked his bag up from off the floor and rummaged around until he found a brand new, unopened pack of ballpoint pens.
He held up his prize, triumphant, and then went to open it the same way he always opened annoyingly plasticky cellophane wrappers - with his teeth. He was just about to tear it open when a voice, one laced with judgment, spoke up primly from behind him.
“I’d feel remiss if I didn’t point out you’ll eventually damage your teeth if you continue in that way, Mr Molly.”
Daniel was glad he had his back to the vampire so Armand couldn’t see how immediately pissed off he was with the unwarranted and frankly insulting advice. Daniel was a whole adult, a seventy year old man, and he could open his pens however the hell he wanted, thank you very much. Actually, thinking about it, fuck it. Armand needed to see how annoyed he was. Daniel turned around to glare angry daggers at him, pulling the still sealed packet of pens out from of his mouth as he did so.
“Okay, and you care why, exactly?” Daniel asked him, his brow raised. “You can hardly stand my presence here and you know that I’m dying anyway. What difference does it make if I happen to chip a tooth?”
Armand swanned closer to him, practically gliding across the room with that damned ethereal elegance of his. He came to a stop next to Daniel, looking down at him and prying the pack of pens from his always shaking hands.
“What do you think happens, Mr Molloy,” Armand began, cocking his head, “If a vampire damages their fangs?”
He hadn’t thought about it before, but Daniel had heard from Louis the story of the vampire that Claudia had blinded. Without its eyes it wouldn’t have been able to hunt, so its Maker had killed it out of what, mercy? Daniel scoffed. Thinking about it for even half a second and it was clear that the old lady vampire could have totally continued to support her Fledgling if she’d even even half a shit about the guy. Daniel wasn’t impressed with her, or vampires in general, really.
“You guys really aren’t all that big on looking out for each another, are you? I mean, I understand your law about not turning kids, but what was all that about the old, crippled, or maimed? You see, us human beings, we actually help care for our sick and disabled. But you guys, you just kill each other because it’s so much easier that actually helping one another, isn’t it?” He asked, silently daring Armand to prove him wrong.
A stillness settled over the room as Armand stared thoughtfully at the pens in his hands. Then he sighed, his shoulders sagged, and he sat down in the chair next to Daniel’s. He placed the pack on the table, aligning it neatly with the table’s edge with his long and slender fingers. He was stalling, Daniel could tell.
After what felt like a small eternity Armand eventually deigned to speak. “Perhaps you are right, but you must understand that us vampires, we are no longer human, and it is… different for us. But not all of us are as cold or as uncaring as you might initially believe. We can, on occasion, extend a hand to a brother or sister in need.”
Daniel hummed thoughtfully as he nodded his head, mulling it all over. “Right…” he said slowly. “So do you happen to have any evidence to back up that little claim of yours, or am I going to have to take your word for it? Because according to Claudia,” he held up one of her diaries, “You weren’t exactly the the most supportive step-dad in the world, were you?”
Armand smiled ruefully. “Perhaps I was a little too strict on her at times, but I could not show her any favouritism. The coven was already jealous enough of my leniency with Louis, so to extend it to her would have only made things worse for everyone.” He paused then, looking up at Daniel. “Besides, I never considered her to be a daughter, and she never saw me as a father. I wouldn’t have wanted her to.”
Daniel leant back in his chair, dropping her diary carefully back down onto the table. He then scratched at his chin, wondering why Armand was sharing all of this. What was it that he really wanted to say?
“Okay, I get that, but it’s not actually Claudia that you wanted to talk about, is it? So what’s your point here? Why were you so concerned about my teeth?” He asked. “What have they got to do with what you’re telling me now?”
Armand sighed again, looking down and soothing his thumbs together in his lap. Daniel was starting to notice it as a little nervous tell of his, something he always did when he felt like he was losing control of a situation or conversation.
“Do you remember what Louis’ fangs looked like?” Armand suddenly asked him. “I believe you kept asking to see them in the 70’s, did you not?”
Armand was looking back up and smiling at him in amusement now, but Daniel merely rolled his eyes at him. Yes, he’d been a dumb kid once, and he really didn't appreciate the reminder of that, especially now he also knew what Armand’s true role had been back in 1973.
“Yeah, I remember.” He huffed. “I also remember how they hurt like hell taking a huge chuck out of my damn neck.”
That wasn’t an exaggeration. The bite from Louis had arguably been one of the most terrifying and painful experiences of his entire life. Shyly though, as if blaming himself for it happening, Armand adverted his eyes off to the side. His thumbs also began pressing more firmly into one another as he continued to self-soothe.
“So you remember the size of them then?” Armand pressed. “Would that be correct to say?”
Daniel frowned at the unusual line of questioning, starting to wonder exactly where this conversation was heading. “Sure.” He said tentatively, holding a hand up with his thumb and index finger spread apart. “About this big, right?”
Armand looked at Daniel’s fingers for a second and nodded his head. “Yes, that’s accurate enough.” He then paused again, staring unseeingly into the middle distance for a long moment. Then he snapped back to himself, his orange eyes refocusing. “You never saw my fangs, did you?” He asked out of the blue.
Daniel shook his head, feeling whiplash from this bizarre train of topics. “No.” He answered. “I only felt them, you know, when you tried to kill me? You remember that moment? Anyway, they didn’t hurt anywhere near as bad as Louis’ did, but I take it your whole rest act had something to do with that, yeah?”
“Mhm, partly.” Armand admitted, bowing his head so soft curls of wavy black hair obscured his face. “But that wasn’t the only reason.”
That caught Daniel’s attention just enough to simmer some of his lingering resentment about the attempt on his life, although he wasn’t sure if was smart of him to be buying into Armand’s whole bashful and coy schtick, which was almost definitely a ploy. Still, he drummed his fingers on the table, waiting impatiently for the vampire to finally explain himself.
“Well?” He finally asked when Armand wasn’t forthcoming all on his own. “What’s your deal then?”
Armand slowly lifted his head, opening his mouth wide. Daniel stiffened on reflex, a shock of terror thrumming through his veins. Then there came a noise, a sharp yet fleshy sound, and Armand’s fangs descending from his gums. Daniel stared at them in shock. They were so… tiny. He almost wanted to laugh, but the last of his self preservation smartly kept him from doing so.
As he looked, as he observed, he began to feel more relaxed. This wasn’t a threat, Armand wasn’t going to kill him, no, rather he was merely sharing a piece of himself with Daniel. Why though, he still wasn’t sure.
Daniel leant in closer, feeling that same sense of wonder and awe from when he’d first and rather foolishly asked Louis to ‘do the fang thing again’ back in San Francisco. Even though these creatures were deadly and terrible killing machines, there was still something undeniably magical about them. He knew it was special that Louis had chosen to share his history with him, and he could also recognise that Armand was giving him something equally special now.
“They’re, uh…” Daniel didn’t know what to say, and he really didn’t want to risk insulting Armand and ending up with the vampire’s fangs stuck in his throat again. “Kinda cute, I suppose.” He settled on, cringing at himself but pushing through. “Still terrifying, obviously, but not what I’d expected.” He felt his cheeks warming at having called any part of Armand cute, so he cleared his throat and asked, “Is that normal for you guys then? Differences in fang size, or whatever?”
There was a slight colouring to Armand’s face now. You could have called it a blush if vampires were even capable of such a thing, which Daniel wasn’t entirely sure if they were. Then, to his morbid disappointment, Armand closed his mouth. He did not, however, retract his fangs, so Daniel could still see them poking out adorably when he spoke.
“No, it’s certainly not normal.” Armand replied, some anger seeping into his tone of voice. “It’s a disability, Mr Molloy, and one entirely of my own doing. I was reckless as a young Fledgling, short tempered and quick to acts of foolishness. I chipped one of my fangs draining a victim whom I’d taken offence too. He’d mocked me about something, I do not remember what now, it was so long ago. I only know that I’d wanted him to suffer.”
Armand sighed, calmly collected himself, and then he continued. Daniel was listening with rapt attention.
“My Maker should have killed me then and there for my insolence. I’d gone against all of his teachings on how to hunt and on how to honour the blood when we feed. But he did not. Instead he took me home and he looked at my fang, more broken than just chipped, and he showed me mercy. He took tools, large and scary things which intimidated me, and he forcibly filed it back into a perfectly sharpened point again. It hurt something terrible, Mr Molloy, and I still remember how I screamed and cried, but his act saved my life. I could once again fend for myself.”
Daniel winced. He could almost imagine it, not exactly the biggest fan of going to the dentist himself, but that was with modern equipment and pain relief. Armand would have had none of that. Still though, something wasn’t adding up…
“Okay, but what about the other fang? You only chipped the one, right? So what happened to it? I can see they’re both the same size now.” Daniel pointed out, gesturing in his direction.
Armand slowly lifted a hand up to his own mouth, gently prodding at his right fang, his face somewhat vacant. Lost in a memory, perhaps? He then dropped his hand back down into his lap and returned to Daniel in the present moment.
“I believe my Maker wanted me to learn my lesson.” He continued with his story. “This fang, the unbroken one, was filed down to match as a punishment. I hard to relearn how to hunt and feed with my… diminutive fangs, and even today I can not drink as fast as others. I’ll always be less than. Hindered, if you will.”
Daniel tilted his body towards the table, propping his elbow up on the smooth surface and resting his chin atop his palm. He gestured at Armand with his free hand.
“You don’t seem all that hindered to me.” He replied. “I mean, you ruled over the Paris coven pretty effectively. And uh, trust me, pal, your fangs really don’t feel all that diminutive when they’re sinking into your neck. I can attest to that one first hand.”
Armand smiled at him shyly, the colour in his cheeks seemingly darkening. “Thank you, Mr Molloy, that’s very kind of you to say. To answer your question though, I ruled by doing what I’ve always done in regards to my fangs. I hid them. I never let anyone see. To do so would be a show of weakness, and I could not allow that.”
Daniel stared at Armand, and at his tiny kitten fangs. “You’re not hiding now.” He observed. “Are you?”
“No.” Armand ducked his head, still smiling, his fangs beautifully shining through. “I suppose I’m not.”
There were still so many questions that Daniel had lined up and ready to go, but apparently Armand was done. He stood up from the table and picked up the packet of pens, bringing it up to his mouth and tearing through the plastic with ease. The pens all fell out, rolling and scattering over the floor and even under the chairs. Armand dropped the now empty packaging back down onto the table.
“As I was saying,” He continued. “You should take better care of your teeth, Daniel. You never know when you might need them.”
Armand then brushed past him and disappeared out of the room, leaving Daniel more than a little dumbfounded. For one, he’d called him by his first name, Daniel, instead of Mr Molloy, and secondly, he’d shared something honest with him, a real vulnerability. Daniel shifted on his chair, crossing one leg over the other, somewhat mortified by how Armand tearing open a packet of pens had effected him quite so much. Of all the things to end up getting flustered about…
Daniel shook his head and sighed, scrubbing a hand down his tried and weary face as he looked to all of the pens spilt across the penthouse floor.
“You're not coming back to pick these up, are you?” He asked the open air.
Of course, nobody replied.