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Things were steadily getting better between the two of them. It wasn’t exactly great, there was still a lot of work that needed doing and forgiveness was very much a long way away but… things were, at the very least, improving. Daniel had (through his tenacious brute stubbornness) tracked his absent Maker down and forced him into having an actual conversation with him. One conversation had become two, which had become three, which had quickly turned into regular evening meetings whenever they could. His work on Lestat’s documentary was eating into a lot of his time, but time, he supposed, was the one thing he had plenty of now.
Tonight had been another milestone in the careful reparations of whatever could be salvaged from who they’d once been to one another. Neither of them were under any misguided illusions of going back to the way things had been before - San Francisco and 1973 and the subsequent twelve years that had followed after were just too long ago now, and they’d both changed so much since then. They’d both hurt one another, and they also knew that Daniel being a vampire changed everything. Still, Armand had finally agreed to watch him hunt. It was the very first time that the ancient one had seen his Fledgling (his one and only) kill and feed. The experience had wrought… mixed emotions in him, and now he was trying to process them.
They were sitting together on a park bench in New York City. Daniel had thrown the body of his victim into the centre of the nearby lake with a heavy stone tied around the man’s ankles. Nobody would find him anytime soon, and by the time they did (if they did, that is), the water would have destroyed anything useful. Besides, who would suspect the old journalist who had clearly gone senile by claiming that vampire’s were real, had a medical history that proved he was sick and dying of Parkinson’s, and had the Talamasca on standby to erase any suspect CCTV footage of a man of his description committing such a terrible and heinous crime, of having actually committed said terrible and heinous crime?
As far as Daniel was concerned he had nothing to worry about and, even if something did go horribly wrong for him, there was always Armand - an ancient and powerful vampire who had a history of killing anybody who tried to get between him and what he wanted, and what he wanted right now (even if he refused to say it) was Daniel. Where was the proof of this outrageous claim? Well, the simple fact that he’d broken an over five-hundred year old pact to himself to bestow Daniel with the Dark Gift was all the proof he needed. Armand wanted him in his life. Daniel was just trying to figure out to what capacity.
But for now, Daniel was sitting with his elbow resting on the arm of the hard mental bench, his body angled every so slightly towards his Maker with Armand mirroring him perfectly. This meant there was still quite a bit of distance between their spread legs, but Daniel’s other arm was stretched out along the back of said bench, and this meant that Armand’s was too. Their hands were a scant few inches apart, not that Daniel was at all aware of this all important fact as he was far too busy talking rapidly and nonsensically to be paying any attention to such a simple thing such as proximity.
When Daniel was nervous he talked. Words had always been his best defence and he had a long history of weaponising them to his advantage. Often when he started to make a point he didn’t actually have a point, but he’d eventually find it somewhere along the way. It had worked when exposing Armand to Louis, the pieces falling into place as he’d given his jumbled thoughts their language. Then he’d dropped the deadly bombshell of ‘He didn’t save you. Lestat did!’, and had realised perhaps a little too late that maybe that wasn’t all that good of an idea. In hindsight he was lucky that Armand had merely killed him then turned him, instead of just leaving him for dead.
“Did I tell you that Lestat wants to take the tour to Europe next? He’s hoping that Paris might be romantic which is so fucking stupid that I can’t even begin to make a lick of sense of his thought processes. I mean, the last time you guys were all in Paris together it didn’t exactly end with sunshine and rainbows, did it?” Daniel waved his hand dismissively as he went on with, “I don’t won’t to go back there either. I still stand by what I said in Dubai, by the way. Paris sucks.”
Daniel let his gesturing hand lay against the top of the bench again. On the way back down his aged and wrinkled fingers had brushed ever so lightly against Armand’s, his hand as still and as cold as a statue’s. Neither of them moved or mentioned it, not that it was even worth mentioning, it was just an accident, that was all. Instead, Armand merely let out a thoughtful hum as he cocked his head to the side in the perfect picture of thought and contemplation.
“Did Lestat make any illusions as to who exactly this could be a romantic endeavour for? I can understand why you’d presume for himself and Louis, but-”
Daniel interrupted him with another irritated wave of his hand, their fingers brushing yet again. “He’s a bit of a whore, I get it. But who else-”
“I would have said he’s a romantic, Daniel.” Now it was Armand’s turn to interrupt his unruly Fledging. “Lestat loves love. He’s a man who falls fast and hard for almost everyone that he meets, and that includes both you and I. He would do almost anything to keep us both happy and safe, despite all of our past transgressions towards one another.”
Daniel frowned as he let his hand roll in another gesture against the back of the bench, his pinky finger lightly tapping against the side of Armand’s wrist. “Past transgressions? What the hell have I ever done to the guy? I’m making his stupid documentary, aren’t I?”
Armand’s face softened with his barely disguised amusement. “Are you forgetting that you let me read the annotations he left in your book, Daniel? I don’t believe he appreciated how you depicted his relationship with Claudia, for a start.”
“Mhm. Maybe.” Daniel’s hand twitched as he suppressed the powerful urge to wave it around again, instead asking, “But what’s Lestat’s feelings towards me, whatever they are, got to do with Paris? Why would he want me there?”
Armand’s eyes darted down quickly (blink and you’ll miss it) to where they were just barely touching. Then he looked up again at Daniel’s face, his expression utterly unreadable as, calmly as anything, he said, “Perhaps he knows that I’ll be following.”
“Oh?” Daniel considered this. “I suppose if he wanted to exact some sort of a dramatic revenge on you for your role in things, then yeah, dragging you back to where it all happened would be somewhat poetic.” But then shook his head, quickly dismissing the idea. “Nah, that makes no sense though. You just said that Lestat still cares about you, so I can’t imagine he’d actually want to do anything to hurt you. Why then? Why does he want us all in Paris?”
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Armand’s lips as he moved his hand. He tilted it just enough so that their little fingers could brush, and Daniel felt the touch like a sudden jolt of electric all the way up his arm. He knew that he should probably pull his hand away, but he didn’t. It was highly dangerous territory to be wandering into, this, but then so had been interviewing an unstable vampire not just once, but twice.
“I’m sure he has many reasons to gather us.” Armand replied, shrugging noncommittally as their fingers innocuously brushed again. “But what do you think, Daniel? You’ve been spending more time with him than anyone else as of late. What has been the nature of your more recent discussions?”
Daniel turned his head away, staring out into the endless darkness of the park surrounding them. Nothing was moving out there and it was too still, eerily so. His recent interviews with Lestat had been revolving around Armand, and Daniel had been learning some things about his Maker that he wasn’t yet ready, or even sure how to bring up. He gnawed on his bottom lip instead, a feeling that he had all of the pieces but didn’t know how to properly put them back together again irking him. Annoyed now, he rolled his head back towards Armand. His Maker was sitting there both patiently and expectantly, and that only served to piss him off even further.
“Oh, come on.” Daniel huffed. “You know, don’t you?”
Armand’s smile widened imperceptibly, and Daniel caught the slightest rare glimpse of his white fangs gleaming under the moonlight. Daniel narrowed his eyes and, rather boldly, he prodded Armand’s resting hand with his fingers.
“Spill it, asshole.”
To once again mirror Daniel, Armand rolled his head to the side so they were actually facing one another. “Have you considered the potentiality that Lestat has nothing personal to gain from us returning to Paris? Perhaps, this man who is a notorious romantic who only ever wants his friends to be happy, has some other, maybe even altruistic reasons for doing so?”
Daniel frowned. “Wha-? Are you serious? Lestat’s meddling in our lives now?” He shook his head in denial. “No, we don’t need that. He’ll only fuck up what we’ve got going on here. I mean, he knows how long it took me to find you, and then how long it took me just to get you to fucking talk to me, and now you’ve finally started to step up as a Maker he’s going to push you too fast and he’s gonna scare you off again, isn’t he? Dammit, Lestat. Why can’t he just stay outta this?”
Armand raised an eyebrow and slowly, gingerly, placed his hand atop of his Fledgling’s. His skin was far colder than Daniel’s, the younger vampire’s body warmed by his recent feeding. They both looked at where they were touching and, for once, Daniel was silenced. An ugly hopeful feeling was stirring in his chest, and he was far too afraid of saying anything incase he was wrong about this.
“I agree with you that we don’t require Lestat’s intuitions.” Armand spoke steadily, calmly, even. “But I disagree with your assessment that I’m going to be scared off again anytime soon. I’m here now, Daniel. I’m right here.” He ducked his head and his black curls hid his beautifully vibrant orange eyes for a moment before he raised his gaze back up to Daniel’s. “Truthfully, it is you that I’ve been afraid of pushing. I cannot read your thoughts anymore. Your mind is closed to me. I don’t know what you want from me. From us. Are we to just be Maker and Fledging, or…”
“Shh.” Daniel silenced him quickly. “Let’s just… not overthink it for a while. I mean, yeah, we absolutely need to have this conversation at some point, but not yet, okay? I think we both know what we want, we just don’t know if it’s a good idea or not.” Daniel scoffed even as he said it. “Actually, hell, it’s definitely a bad idea, but what was it that Louis’s hallucination of Lestat told him? What is vampiric life, if not poor decisions staked up against even poorer decisions?”
Armand smiled ruefully. “I suppose that rather does sum the two of us up, does it not? Although if you expect me to say that turning you was a poor decision, I won’t do it. Poorly thought out, I’ll concede, but not a mistake in its end result. You are, Daniel, a formidable Fledging.”
“Mhm.” Daniel blinked, his dead heart pounding in his chest as his thoughts raced, always coming back to the same, small thing.
He doesn’t regret making me.
Daniel nodded his head once, then decisively turned his hand over. Their fingers immediately laced together as they gripped at one another tightly. Armand’s hand felt exactly as he remembered it feeling. Daniel’s hand was different though, old and delightfully wrinkled with age. Armand would have to relearn the feeling of it in his own.
“Cool, yeah. Thanks.” Daniel’s eyes fell down to his shoes and he scuffed his black boots against the short grass. “I don’t, uh… I mean, that’s to say… I don’t regret it, either, you know. You turning me, that is. Bit of a warning would have been nice, but hey, what’s done is done, eh?”
Armand nodded. “Yes.”
They sat in silence for a long moment. Daniel watched an owl gliding silently through the night as he listened to the mice scurrying softly through the nearby overflowing trashcans. Suddenly the night didn’t feel as empty with someone holding his hand.
“I was wondering, Daniel, if you’d be at all interested in attending a local art installation with me. It’ll be closed at this time of night, of course. However-”
“You’ll get us in anyway?” Daniel finished for him, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
Armand nodded in confirmation. Daniel nodded back at him.
“Okay then.” He agreed. “Lead the way.”
Armand stood and, to Daniel’s secret and utter delight, he kept his grip on his hand to drag him up with him. It was so reminiscent of the old days that, just for a second, Daniel felt he was suddenly that dumb kid in his twenties again. Armand walked them out of the park and back into the brightly lit city streets. As they passed a security camera outside a shop, Daniel looked up at it and winked. Yeah, let the Talamasca get a load of him now.
Let Louis have the night, Daniel thought finally to himself. He had the whole world right here in the palm of his hand.