Work Text:
Title: Resurrection
Author: Elizabeth Wilde
Rating: R
Summary: Lacroix finds a familiar face at The Raven.
Disclaimer: I own only the original chars. Somebody else owns Lacroix, more's
the pity. I'm making no money from this, just getting a happy.
Distribution: My site at http://www.biteyourtongue.net/wilde, anyone who asks
nicely, anyone already archiving my fic.
Lacroix watched the girl from the moment she entered the bar. She had come in
with a few friends, all of whom seemed much more suited to the Raven's rather
dark clientele than she. Her long, dark hair fell to her waist and her large
blue eyes watched everything around her curiously. She hardly spoke, save to
exchange a few words with her friends as they set out for another part of the
club, leaving her alone in a crowd of strangers.
Hesitantly, she walked toward the bar. Lacroix waved away his assistant and
stepped in front of her. "What can I get you, my dear?"
"I... a virgin daquiri." She blushed, obviously embarrassed to make such a tame
request.
Lacroix surmised that she couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen. "Coming
right up." With an amused smile, he quickly mixed the drink, setting it on the
counter. "There. This is your first time here."
"Yes. I... my friends brought me."
"You don't sound pleased."
For the first time, she looked him directly in the eyes. "I'm not. Clubs aren't
my thing. But they kinda dragged me here."
"I see. By the way, my name is Lacroix. I own this club."
The girl's eyes widened in horror. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that this
isn't a great club. I just-"
"I understand."
She relaxed marginally. "My name is Cassandra."
Lacroix took her hand and kissed it gently. "The pleasure is all mine."
//It's her eyes... so like Lysia's. And her smile. It has been ages since I
thought of her. It was so long ago. So very long ago...//
Rome, 101 AD
A large estate
Lacroix watched the girl from the upper story as she patiently straightened
each cushion on the couch and dusted every statue. He had hired Lysia at first
simply because she had been the first person who had responded to his request
for a maid. Then he had become taken with the way she simply accepted his
orders, no matter how strange. No open windows during the day. No religious
symbols. No one allowed into his private chambers at any time.
Lysia simply nodded and did as he requested. He sometimes wondered whether it
was her desperate need of a job or her loyalty that made her so agreeable.
Certainly, she possessed enough intelligence to know something strange lurked
within the walls of the estate. He had seen her poring over the thousands of
volumes in his library.
After having a trusted messenger do a bit of digging, Lacroix had learned that
Lysia's parents were killed in some sort of accident two years before and she
had been on her own ever since, scrounging to make ends meet.
//I know few women who possess the strength to exist in such a manner, let alone
mere girls of nineteen.// But she was obviously no ordinary girl. He noted that
she declined to be involved in any of the usual religious rites, instead
spending her days sleeping and her nights working, as he did. They rarely spoke,
which suited Lacroix well.
"Lysia?"
She started, then looked up to the second floor landing. "Yes, Master?"
"Why do you stay here?"
Her eyebrows knit. "Why? Because I work here."
"Of course. But a beautiful young woman like yourself could certainly find more
interesting, better paying jobs. Why don't you?"
She seemed lost in thought for a moment, her blue eyes briefly closed. When she
raised her dark head again, she seemed completely sure of her answer. "Because I
am supposed to be here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You still with me?" Cassandra was asking.
"Of course, my dear, of course."
~~~~~~~~~~
After about thirty minutes, Cassandra's friend Rachel finally stumbled out of a
back room, looking disgusted. She threw her shoe into the room and called,
"JERK!" After rolling her eyes at what Cassandra assumed was response of the man
her friend had just chucked her shoe at, Rachel stalked over to Cassandra.
"Where's Lil?"
The dark-haired girl shook her head. "Dancing last I saw. I haven't been
watching."
For the first time, Rachel noted Lacroix's presence. "I see. Well, I'll get her.
We're blowing this popsicle stand. I want to go home, take a shower, and eat
some chocolate ice cream." Without another word, Rachel disappeared into the
throng of people on the dance floor.
Almost nervously, Cassandra met Lacroix's intense gaze. "I guess I have to go.
I... I've actually enjoyed this."
"You sound surprised."
"I am. I hate clubs." She grabbed her purse from the counter and stood. "But
I... I'd like to come back again."
"I hope very much that you will." She turned to leave. "Cassandra?"
She faced him again, eyebrows raised. "Yes?" //Did that sound as desperate as I
think it did?//
"Listen to CERK radio tonight. You won't regret it."
Cassandra nodded and smiled. "Whatever you say!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rachel and Lil both hopped into Cassandra's beat-up Nissan Axxes. Quickly
sliding into the driver's seat, Cassandra flicked on the radio. She turned the
key in the ignition and put the car in reverse. "Hey, Rach, can you find CERK
for me? A friend recommended it."
"That bartender you were drooling over?" Lil teased.
Cassandra blushed. "Just find it, would you? Besides, he wasn't just a
bartender. Lacroix owns the club."
"Really?" asked Rachel, her interest piqued.
Anything to get free drinks, Cassandra groaned inwardly. "Yeah. Really."
"Got it!" Rachel said.
"Good evening, gentle listeners. Tonight, the Nightcrawler was reminded again of
a time long past. My question for you is how much of the past remains with you?"
Cassandra felt her heart skip a beat. //It's him! And why does that make me feel
so damn happy?//
Rachel glanced over and noticed the odd expression on her friend's face. "What's
the matter with you?
"Nothing. Nothing at all . . ."