Birthday Gifts (with Eris)--PG-13
Posted: Wed Feb 11, 2009 1:58 am
This fic is the result of a challenge I put out to the (at that time) Josef Exclusive Freshies to come up with some ways of celebrating Josef’s birthday. It does reflect some of the old RP stuff for long ago and far away.
Section One is by me (librarian_7); Section Two, is written by ErisFury, and the current concluding section is also by me….
The characters from Moonlight are copyrighted by CBS, and no infringement is intended.
Birthday Gifts
I--Introduction
2 a.m. Josef stretched in sybaritic pleasure and settled his long frame even more comfortably on the couch, his deep midnight blue silk sleep pants sliding on the leather upholstery with a quiet whisper even as the cool bare skin of his upper body moved easily against the satin-clad thigh of one of his most favored freshies. He closed his eyes as Faction softly stroked his temples, her small fingers twining in his hair.
Allara sat on the floor, leaning her back against the couch, quietly turning the pages of her math textbook. Josef rested his left hand lightly on her shoulder, his fingers moving absently to caress her throat. She was concentrating on her studies, but every once in a while, tilted her head a bit, stretching her neck in response, exposing the delicate white skin to the heat of his half-lidded gaze.
Lucky held his feet in her lap, resting on the border between the satin of her nightgown and her bare legs, her pale capable hands massaging his feet, steadily moving, kneading, bending. The end of her long red braid swayed over her shoulder in counterpoint to the controlled, rhythmic movements of her hands. As she worked, dragging her knuckles up and down the sole of one foot even as her other thumb ran firmly along his Achilles tendon. Between the warmth of her hands, and the gentle heat of her lap, Josef could feel some of the tension leaving his entire body. He was rarely as relaxed anywhere as in the company of his freshies.
Even the newest addition to the group, Eris, who was sitting nearby tapping away on her laptop, added to his sense of comfort. She might not be as “touchy-feely” as the others, not as prone to hang on him in the midst of the others, but he could hear the sound of her heart, and her scent conveyed her contentment at being a part of the group.
Josef groaned happily when Lucky found a particularly sensitive spot on his heel. “Damn, that feels good, doll,” he said. “Don’t stop.”
“Of course, Josef,” Lucky replied soothingly. “I can’t believe you’ve never requested a foot rub before.”
He snorted softly, then frowned, his eyebrows drawing together above his almost-closed eyes. “Now, I seem to recall, Lucky, something about you still being allowed to give Mick footrubs?” he said.
Lucky shrugged without interrupting the movements of her hands. “There was a stipulation to that effect,” she said carefully, “but it’s not been—taken advantage of. Ever.”
Josef felt the stirrings of his territorial instincts at the discovery of a new facet of one of his freshies. Mick was a friend, but when it came down to it, he hated sharing. He raised his head from Faction’s lap to look at her, and responded a little shortly, “In that case, how about we take that possibility off the table, as of now?”
Lucky only smiled at him. “Yes, Josef,” she answered.
He settled his head back down, but Faction could feel some of the tension returning to his shoulders. She cast around in her mind for something, anything, to drag the subject elsewhere. Finally, a thought occurred. “Josef,” she said, “I don’t think you’ve ever told us when your birthday is.”
Josef twisted his head around to look up at her. “Birthday?”
Allara shifted to look at him as well, marking the place in her book with one thumb. “Yeah,” she said, “when is it, Josef?”
Eris looked up sharply as well, smiling to herself as she took in the group dynamic. It was interesting to her to see how the other three women worked together around their vampire. She could see Josef relax almost visibly in their expert hands. She wasn’t quite sure, yet, how she fit into this tight-knit group, but she expected she’d find her way.
Josef smiled indulgently. “There’s no way around this discussion, is there?” he asked.
Lucky provided the demure reply. “No, Josef.”
“What if I told you I don’t know?”
Eris decided to throw in a comment at that point. “My guess is that they won’t believe it, Josef.” Lucky looked up and gave her a wry, but approving, look.
The vampire lifted his right hand in a gesture of mock-exasperation. “It’s true. When I was born, people didn’t keep track of those things much. Records were not kept. And by the time it became a topic of interest, I had no idea.”
“You must have a birthdate listed on your passport,” Eris said reasonably. “And there have to be other documents with something listed. We could always use that.”
Lucky nodded. “It’s arbitrary, but at least it would give us a day to work with.”
“Come on, Josef,” Allara added, bouncing against the couch. “Throw us a bone here.”
Josef smiled, but his words ended the discussion. “Settle down, Turbo,” he said. “Girls, I appreciate it, but after missing this many, it just doesn’t matter much to me.”
And that was that, for the evening.
The next day, knowing that Josef was safely incommunicado in his freezer, Lucky called the other three freshies together. “I’ve got an idea,” she said. “If he won’t pick a birthday, we can pick one for him…or better yet, we can each pick a different day—“
Allara interrupted “--and each surprise him with a special event, or gift or something, right?”
Faction and Eris exchanged amused looks. “Think it could work?” Faction asked. "We could be catching up on several missed birthdays a year this way."
Eris shrugged. “Don’t look at me—I’m new around here. But it sounds fun.” She already had a wicked gleam in her eye, formulating a few plans.
Lucky nodded. “So—you want to draw straws to see what order we go in?” The others gathered around, and schedule was set quickly. A few minutes later, they went their separate ways, each smiling at the possibilities.
Birthday Presents II—Blood Geisha (Eris)
She had barely taken a step back when a light hand on her hip made her jump with a yelp. There was no question of who it was from the silent approach.
"Josef!" she yelped. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"
"No." he chuckled. "I just like to hear your pulse race."
"There are easier ways to do that you know... more fun, too."
"If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to distract me from the fact that I'm sure I locked that door before I left." he stared down at her. "In fact, it locks automatically."
Eris met the smirk with a smile - her usual "who, me?" response.
"Hand it over." Josef held out one pale hand, gesturing for her to fill it. "Whatever you used to open that door, I want it. And then, as soon as he comes in, you are telling Ryder what he needs to add to the system so you can't do it again."
"Killjoy." she said, brushing past him to go to the door. He shouldn't have been out of his freezer for at least two more hours.
Eris tugged and the door opened without even pressing the handle to release it. She slipped her hand down the side of the edge and pried something free.
"You'd be surprised how many multi - million dollar security systems can be bypassed by an eighty - eight cent child's toy packaged in a plastic egg." She plopped the pink glob of putty into his open hand. "Happy?"
"Not my general reaction to breaking and entering."
"Just entering, no breaking involved."
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her with a disapproving glare. It was then that he realized how she was dressed. Eris just didn't look like herself. She didn't even look like a freshie, really. The girl had unusual taste, but she wasn't wearing anything like her usual attire; this looked more like a kimono - sort of. It was definitely in that family, silk obviously, but cut much shorter than a traditional kimono would be. Just like her shaggy, cherry red hair didn't fit the classic image, either.
"The tirade is being called on account of curiosity." he said, cocking his head sideways. "What are you up to, Madame Butterfly?"
She moved to the side, so he could see what she'd been doing before he came in. There was a small unit on the floor that looked something like a camp stove, along with a cast iron pot and a tea tray.
"It was supposed to be a surprise."
"Successful so far." he said. "What's the occasion?"
"Josef Kostan's birthday."
"Not that again." He actually rolled his eyes. "I thought I told you girls I didn't know when my birthday was."
"Maybe not, but public records show the date when "Josef Kostan" officially became a presence in the city. This day. That makes this his birthday."
"If my records are that easy to trace, then I think I'm paying Logan too much." he grumbled, then took another look at the scene presented to him. "What is all of this?"
"You mean to tell me in 400 years, you've never been to Japan?"
Eris moved to a kneeling seiza position next to the tea set, and sat so that her legs were under her, then indicated with her hand for him to join her - playing the part of temae. Josef started to approach, then noted she was scowling - pointing at his feet. He quickly removed his shoes, placing them next to the door. He had seen the Sado ceremony before, but never participated - tea not being his drink of choice.
"I thought birthdays usually consisted of funny hats and wishes on candles." he said; but she didn't answer. Speaking broke the spell of the rite.
She started the small flame in the burner, then placed the pot over it to heat. With one hand, Eris sprinkled wet ash around the edges of the charcoal to make sure the heat didn't spread too far. After the required few minutes of exposure to the fire - which was passed in reverent silence - she swept the ash from the lip of the set up and placed the pot on the now clean surface.
She bowed to the floor, then looked up at Josef - still waiting for him to take his place. He was intrigued, not at all sure what the point of this exercise was. He bowed at the waist, then took a seat, kneeling next to the burner. Eris straightened, and in a series of choreographed, fluid motions, she continued the ritual. She took a small scoop of greenish powder, shaking it through a sieve into a small bowl. With a bamboo ladle, she added the steaming water to the matcha tea.
She reached for a whisk made of shredded bamboo and began to mix the drink in a conscious zigzag shape, not quite making it froth the way it should to finish. Then, instead of presenting the tea - as would have been customary, she reached for something in the band of the Obi around her waist. With a practiced flick of her wrist, the butterfly knife in her hand snapped into place.
Josef stared at it. He'd seen it before - or at least one like it - and knew instantly that it was made from solid silver. He knew she thought he was unaware of such an instrument in his house, but he wasn't. He had smelled the evidence of the acrid smelling metal on her hands; he could hear the faint clicking sounds when she toyed with it behind closed doors in a nervous habit of opening and closing it repetitively. He had even thought of demanding its disposal, but decided to watch and wait for her intent. He couldn't help but wonder what she was doing with it now.
"Careful there, Chaos." he said. He didn't think she'd do anything intentionally, but the sight of sharpened silver put him on edge.
She looked up at him and smiled, placing the blade in the palm of her hand and pulling down sharply, so that she cut into the skin - just deep enough to draw blood, and winced slightly at the sting. She cleaned the knife, laid it aside, and held her fist over the bowl - pressing her fingers tight into her palm so that a small stream of red liquid ran into the mixture below. Eris bound the fresh cut with a piece of silk on the tray before reclaiming the bamboo chasen and continuing to whip the drink. Now the froth did form, and carried with it a slightly pink tinge.
With a chain of slow, calculated, quarter turns, she rotated the bowl, so that the decorated side was facing the vampire - the sign that the ceremony had ended, and he could drink. Then she sat back on her heels and waited to see what he would do. The gesture of the ceremony wasn't lost. It was more than an offer of blood - she offered that anyway. It was an act of devotion and a pledge of honor, saying without words that - like the geisha she had borrowed the rite from - she was there for him and whatever he asked of her.
Josef reached down and picked up the offering, again making the customary bow to his hostess, then placed it to his lips and drank.
When he restored the bowl to it's position in the caddy, Eris wiped it out with a cloth, then doused the fire and set the burner aside. She picked the knife up again, closed it, and using the same cloth, she wrapped it tightly so that the metal was completely covered. She placed it in her open, dressed palm and held the hand out for him to take it.
"It's your birthday present." she said quietly, obviously nervous as to his reaction.
It would have seemed strange, even to aggressive or confrontational to most vampires, but Josef understood. She wasn't giving him a silver weapon, she was offering him her trust. The knife was protection of sorts, no doubt kept in reserve just in case he turned on her like most of the people she'd met in her life. She was giving it up to him. For him. She didn't need it anymore.
Josef stood, reaching down to offer her a hand up, even as he took the small bundle from her and relocated it to the top drawer of his desk.
"I thought you'd throw it out." she said, but he shook his head. He wasn't one to waste an offered resource, even if there was a bit of danger involved. It certainly had the element of surprise - he'd just have to remember to have the handle covered in something he could touch.
Eris took the tea set from the floor and set it on one of the room's side tables, then checked to make sure there was no ash left behind. As she stood back up, she found that he had once again come to stand silently behind her, dropping his hands to her hips. He could hear the blood in her veins as it sped its pace, and Josef smiled at the sight of the pulse in her neck beginning to visibly jump under her skin just below the collar of her kimono. Her short cropped hair made it so much easier - there was no obstruction to mar his view; nothing to move out of the way. He ran the back of his finger down the line of her throat, getting a shiver in response, then trailed down her arm until he reached Eris' bandaged hand.
"So, if I don't get a cake, do I still get a wish?" Josef raised the hand to his mouth and placed a kiss to her knuckles.
"Happy birthday, Josef." she said, turning her hand over and offering him access to her wrist.
"Just what I wanted." he grinned against the delicate skin, savoring the scent for a moment before sliding his fangs through the yielding flesh.
He was beginning to like birthdays.
Birthday Presents III—Wrapped in Black Satin (Lucky)
Josef looked up in surprise as Faction entered the room. “What brings you here, Formidable? I thought you and Turbo were going out.”
Faction smiled gleefully at him, before turning to grab a metal stand supporting an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne chilling in it and wrestle it through the doorway. “We are. I’m just making a delivery. Wait there.” She exited, only to reappear seconds later bearing a tray holding two Waterford champagne flutes, a small crystal bottle filled with blood, and an envelope. “Have fun,” she said, eyes sparkling.
“Always,” Josef replied, but Faction was already gone. “Hmmm.” He was addressing the empty air. “This has definite possibilities.”
It was still early in the evening; in fact, his day had not begun in earnest. There were certain advantages in this modern age to being nocturnal—being at the top of his form for making international calls at what most considered odd hours was one of them. There were few hours of the day when some major market wasn’t open. For now, though, in these early hours of the night, he was more than ready to relax, to be entertained.
The champagne he recognized as an excellent vintage. Special occasion stuff, he thought as he slid it back into the ice. He noted the sleek modern chrome and glass ice bucket and stand with approval. Not a trace of silver. Thoughtful.
The crystal bottle was next to be investigated. He removed the stopper and sniffed. As he thought. Lucky. Of course, he’d recognized the handwriting on the envelope as he picked it up, the heavy cream paper crackling in his hands. He smiled. Even the texture of the paper had been chosen with care, the note beautifully written in black ink that almost leaped off the paper.
Josef--
Whether you realize it or not, this is a special night. Cork the champagne, and I’ll be with you.
--Lucky
The vampire felt a minor twinge of misgiving, but suppressed it at once. After all, this was Lucky, always so modest and circumspect. Even at her most abandoned, she still maintained a certain air of reserve. He’d known his share—well, probably more than his share, if the truth be told—of wild freshies, and enjoyed them fully, but Lucky was one of the ones who could soothe him into peacefulness, and he found that valuable, too.
Still, nothing ventured and all that. The champagne cork popped with an echoing crack like a gunshot, and before Josef could finish filling the two flutes with the foaming liquid, Lucky walked in.
Josef paused in mid-pour at the sight. Lucky’s long red hair was not in its customary severe braid, from which enticing little tendrils always seemed to escape, but foamed around her shoulders in a pre-Raphaelite mass of curls, held back from her temples with a pair of jeweled combs.
It was her attire that really caught and held his attention, however. He was used to seeing her in little satin nightgowns, but her color choices had always run to jewel tones, rich teals and sapphire blues and emerald greens. Tonight she wore a very simple and elegant black satin creation, cut low to show off the pale perfection of her neck and shoulders, and swirling down to mid-thigh, flowing over her body like living darkness.
“Evening, Josef,” she said. “Like what you see?”
“Always.” He put the champagne bottle down, and carefully poured a small amount of blood from the crystal flagon into one glass. Grasping it carefully by the fragile stem, he held up his free hand, pointing down, and made a circular motion. “Turn around.”
She laughed, executing a quick pirouette. Josef thought he caught a quick flash of her alabaster left thigh much higher than she was usually comfortable with displaying, but perhaps he was mistaken. She moved closer, holding out a hand for a glass.
“So what’s this big occasion, babe?”
“Didn’t you know? It’s your birthday, Josef,” she smiled.
“I could swear I just had a birthday a few weeks ago.”
Lucky shrugged, making the ruby at her throat bounce. “Did you? Well, we figure that if you have four birthdays a year, for the next hundred years or so, you’ll begin to get caught up.”
“You girls worked this all out, did you? Do you see any problems with the math there?” Josef spoke as gently as he could. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, wondering if she would realize he was speaking to remind himself of certain realities.
If there was a shadow that crossed Lucky’s face at that remark, it was gone almost before it began. “You’ll always have freshies, Josef,” she said lightly. “Consider it the beginning of a tradition.” She raised her glass. “To your birthday, dear Josef. May you have many, many more.”
They sipped champagne, Josef savoring it far more for the sweet blood he’d added than for the skill of the vintner. Lucky could tell he was waiting. Patient, but waiting. She put her glass aside.
“Would you care to sit?” she asked. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”
His face lighted with a bit of an impish grin, and Lucky felt her heart beat a little faster. “I was wondering when we’d get to the presents part.”
“Sit.”
“Any preference where?”
She pretended to consider, then gestured. “Couch.”
He took one more sip of his drink, then set it aside, moving through the room with that peculiar lithe grace that always characterized his stride. He sank onto the cream leather slowly, never taking his eyes from the freshie. He could see now that his earlier observation had been correct. The nightie had a discreet slit up the front of the left thigh, and as she walked forward toward him, her skin, almost luminous beneath the darkness of the shimmering fabric, drew his eye and made him breathe in deeply.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look more edible, Lucky,” he said.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt more edible, Josef,” she replied. She stopped directly in front of him, leaning forward and putting one hand lightly on his shoulder to steady herself. Carefully, she placed her right knee on the couch, and shifting her weight to it, straddled his thighs to settle onto his lap. Josef swallowed, and loosened a necktie that had suddenly become uncomfortable.
“Lucky—“
“Shhh. Give me your left hand, Josef.”
“What?” He almost had trouble speaking around the fangs that had extended in a rush. She was too close, too open to him at this moment, and he told himself control was everything.
“It’s all right. Everything is all right.” She paused. “Give me your hand.”
Slowly, hesitantly he raised his hand and placed in hers. Without taking her eyes from his, she lifted it to her lips and began to kiss each fingertip in turn, placing them just within her parted lips.
Josef’s breath left him in a slow, audible sigh. “How far do you think you can push me, Lucky?” he asked, but he made no motion to stop her.
“Just far enough.” His hand was still captured in hers, but now she lowered it, brushing past her breasts, coming to rest on the delicate skin of her thigh, exposed by the slit in her gown. She moved his fingertips along the silk of her skin, higher, higher. She had never looked down, never looked away, and when she spoke, it was so low that even his vampire senses had to strain to hear. “Do you remember,” she whispered, “my scars? The ones you said once were an obscenity?”
He remembered. The ragged scars left on her from the fangs of a vicious rival, a vampire who sought to kill his freshie just to spite him. The scars left from his failure to foresee the danger, to protect her from the consequences of his actions in a sphere that did not even include her. She’d said the scars reminded her of what he’d done for her afterward, but he had always hated the thought that they existed, even if she kept them hidden.
Now, where he knew perfectly well there should be rough reminders of the savage bite that had almost killed her, there was nothing but smooth skin. His sensitive touch could feel only the faintest traces of neat, surgical incisions. “You had the scars removed?” he asked.
Lucky nodded, her lips curving in a slight smile. “I realized I have all the reminders of your kindness in my heart, Josef. I don’t need to touch them on my body. I don’t need to see them every time I take a shower.”
“But—how? When?”
“A few weeks ago. It was an out-patient procedure.”
“I never tasted any painkillers in your blood.”
Lucky laughed. “Which is why I didn’t use any. It would’ve ruined the surprise.”
“I don’t know what to say.” He paused. “Thank you seems inadequate.”
“What can I say? You’re very difficult to shop for, Josef.” She leaned forward to kiss him softly on the cheek, to brush her lips against his beautiful, mobile mouth, and as she did so, she shifted a little, and his hand involuntarily brushed a little higher.
“Lucky?”
“Yes, Josef?” Her voice was getting breathy, and he knew the situation was once again teetering on the brink.
“You’re not—wearing—“
“I never do, Josef. Just in case.”
With a groan, he snatched his hand away, and grabbing her arms almost roughly turned her off his lap, twisting so that she was pinned beneath him on the couch. She made no move to struggle, even as his eyes turned silver, shining like ice in the dim light.
“Turn your head,” he growled. Her red hair was like silk against his forehead as he put his mouth to her throat, his fangs piercing her skin easily. As he drank, he was acutely conscious of her body, quivering beneath his, her legs thrown around his hips, her hands rising to twine through his short hair. He could feel the heat of her, burning through his clothes, smell the intoxicating scent of her passion. If she cried out as he fed from her, it had nothing to do with pain.
Soon, too soon, his thirst was slaked, and he lay, resting his head on her chest, feeling the motion as she breathed, the gentle rise and fall of it. He felt it would be perfect to lie there forever. She raised one hand to stroke his hair. “Happy birthday,” she said.
“Lucky,” he murmured against her skin, “I’m not sure I can live through this four hundred times more.”
Section One is by me (librarian_7); Section Two, is written by ErisFury, and the current concluding section is also by me….
The characters from Moonlight are copyrighted by CBS, and no infringement is intended.
Birthday Gifts
I--Introduction
2 a.m. Josef stretched in sybaritic pleasure and settled his long frame even more comfortably on the couch, his deep midnight blue silk sleep pants sliding on the leather upholstery with a quiet whisper even as the cool bare skin of his upper body moved easily against the satin-clad thigh of one of his most favored freshies. He closed his eyes as Faction softly stroked his temples, her small fingers twining in his hair.
Allara sat on the floor, leaning her back against the couch, quietly turning the pages of her math textbook. Josef rested his left hand lightly on her shoulder, his fingers moving absently to caress her throat. She was concentrating on her studies, but every once in a while, tilted her head a bit, stretching her neck in response, exposing the delicate white skin to the heat of his half-lidded gaze.
Lucky held his feet in her lap, resting on the border between the satin of her nightgown and her bare legs, her pale capable hands massaging his feet, steadily moving, kneading, bending. The end of her long red braid swayed over her shoulder in counterpoint to the controlled, rhythmic movements of her hands. As she worked, dragging her knuckles up and down the sole of one foot even as her other thumb ran firmly along his Achilles tendon. Between the warmth of her hands, and the gentle heat of her lap, Josef could feel some of the tension leaving his entire body. He was rarely as relaxed anywhere as in the company of his freshies.
Even the newest addition to the group, Eris, who was sitting nearby tapping away on her laptop, added to his sense of comfort. She might not be as “touchy-feely” as the others, not as prone to hang on him in the midst of the others, but he could hear the sound of her heart, and her scent conveyed her contentment at being a part of the group.
Josef groaned happily when Lucky found a particularly sensitive spot on his heel. “Damn, that feels good, doll,” he said. “Don’t stop.”
“Of course, Josef,” Lucky replied soothingly. “I can’t believe you’ve never requested a foot rub before.”
He snorted softly, then frowned, his eyebrows drawing together above his almost-closed eyes. “Now, I seem to recall, Lucky, something about you still being allowed to give Mick footrubs?” he said.
Lucky shrugged without interrupting the movements of her hands. “There was a stipulation to that effect,” she said carefully, “but it’s not been—taken advantage of. Ever.”
Josef felt the stirrings of his territorial instincts at the discovery of a new facet of one of his freshies. Mick was a friend, but when it came down to it, he hated sharing. He raised his head from Faction’s lap to look at her, and responded a little shortly, “In that case, how about we take that possibility off the table, as of now?”
Lucky only smiled at him. “Yes, Josef,” she answered.
He settled his head back down, but Faction could feel some of the tension returning to his shoulders. She cast around in her mind for something, anything, to drag the subject elsewhere. Finally, a thought occurred. “Josef,” she said, “I don’t think you’ve ever told us when your birthday is.”
Josef twisted his head around to look up at her. “Birthday?”
Allara shifted to look at him as well, marking the place in her book with one thumb. “Yeah,” she said, “when is it, Josef?”
Eris looked up sharply as well, smiling to herself as she took in the group dynamic. It was interesting to her to see how the other three women worked together around their vampire. She could see Josef relax almost visibly in their expert hands. She wasn’t quite sure, yet, how she fit into this tight-knit group, but she expected she’d find her way.
Josef smiled indulgently. “There’s no way around this discussion, is there?” he asked.
Lucky provided the demure reply. “No, Josef.”
“What if I told you I don’t know?”
Eris decided to throw in a comment at that point. “My guess is that they won’t believe it, Josef.” Lucky looked up and gave her a wry, but approving, look.
The vampire lifted his right hand in a gesture of mock-exasperation. “It’s true. When I was born, people didn’t keep track of those things much. Records were not kept. And by the time it became a topic of interest, I had no idea.”
“You must have a birthdate listed on your passport,” Eris said reasonably. “And there have to be other documents with something listed. We could always use that.”
Lucky nodded. “It’s arbitrary, but at least it would give us a day to work with.”
“Come on, Josef,” Allara added, bouncing against the couch. “Throw us a bone here.”
Josef smiled, but his words ended the discussion. “Settle down, Turbo,” he said. “Girls, I appreciate it, but after missing this many, it just doesn’t matter much to me.”
And that was that, for the evening.
The next day, knowing that Josef was safely incommunicado in his freezer, Lucky called the other three freshies together. “I’ve got an idea,” she said. “If he won’t pick a birthday, we can pick one for him…or better yet, we can each pick a different day—“
Allara interrupted “--and each surprise him with a special event, or gift or something, right?”
Faction and Eris exchanged amused looks. “Think it could work?” Faction asked. "We could be catching up on several missed birthdays a year this way."
Eris shrugged. “Don’t look at me—I’m new around here. But it sounds fun.” She already had a wicked gleam in her eye, formulating a few plans.
Lucky nodded. “So—you want to draw straws to see what order we go in?” The others gathered around, and schedule was set quickly. A few minutes later, they went their separate ways, each smiling at the possibilities.
Birthday Presents II—Blood Geisha (Eris)
She had barely taken a step back when a light hand on her hip made her jump with a yelp. There was no question of who it was from the silent approach.
"Josef!" she yelped. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"
"No." he chuckled. "I just like to hear your pulse race."
"There are easier ways to do that you know... more fun, too."
"If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to distract me from the fact that I'm sure I locked that door before I left." he stared down at her. "In fact, it locks automatically."
Eris met the smirk with a smile - her usual "who, me?" response.
"Hand it over." Josef held out one pale hand, gesturing for her to fill it. "Whatever you used to open that door, I want it. And then, as soon as he comes in, you are telling Ryder what he needs to add to the system so you can't do it again."
"Killjoy." she said, brushing past him to go to the door. He shouldn't have been out of his freezer for at least two more hours.
Eris tugged and the door opened without even pressing the handle to release it. She slipped her hand down the side of the edge and pried something free.
"You'd be surprised how many multi - million dollar security systems can be bypassed by an eighty - eight cent child's toy packaged in a plastic egg." She plopped the pink glob of putty into his open hand. "Happy?"
"Not my general reaction to breaking and entering."
"Just entering, no breaking involved."
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her with a disapproving glare. It was then that he realized how she was dressed. Eris just didn't look like herself. She didn't even look like a freshie, really. The girl had unusual taste, but she wasn't wearing anything like her usual attire; this looked more like a kimono - sort of. It was definitely in that family, silk obviously, but cut much shorter than a traditional kimono would be. Just like her shaggy, cherry red hair didn't fit the classic image, either.
"The tirade is being called on account of curiosity." he said, cocking his head sideways. "What are you up to, Madame Butterfly?"
She moved to the side, so he could see what she'd been doing before he came in. There was a small unit on the floor that looked something like a camp stove, along with a cast iron pot and a tea tray.
"It was supposed to be a surprise."
"Successful so far." he said. "What's the occasion?"
"Josef Kostan's birthday."
"Not that again." He actually rolled his eyes. "I thought I told you girls I didn't know when my birthday was."
"Maybe not, but public records show the date when "Josef Kostan" officially became a presence in the city. This day. That makes this his birthday."
"If my records are that easy to trace, then I think I'm paying Logan too much." he grumbled, then took another look at the scene presented to him. "What is all of this?"
"You mean to tell me in 400 years, you've never been to Japan?"
Eris moved to a kneeling seiza position next to the tea set, and sat so that her legs were under her, then indicated with her hand for him to join her - playing the part of temae. Josef started to approach, then noted she was scowling - pointing at his feet. He quickly removed his shoes, placing them next to the door. He had seen the Sado ceremony before, but never participated - tea not being his drink of choice.
"I thought birthdays usually consisted of funny hats and wishes on candles." he said; but she didn't answer. Speaking broke the spell of the rite.
She started the small flame in the burner, then placed the pot over it to heat. With one hand, Eris sprinkled wet ash around the edges of the charcoal to make sure the heat didn't spread too far. After the required few minutes of exposure to the fire - which was passed in reverent silence - she swept the ash from the lip of the set up and placed the pot on the now clean surface.
She bowed to the floor, then looked up at Josef - still waiting for him to take his place. He was intrigued, not at all sure what the point of this exercise was. He bowed at the waist, then took a seat, kneeling next to the burner. Eris straightened, and in a series of choreographed, fluid motions, she continued the ritual. She took a small scoop of greenish powder, shaking it through a sieve into a small bowl. With a bamboo ladle, she added the steaming water to the matcha tea.
She reached for a whisk made of shredded bamboo and began to mix the drink in a conscious zigzag shape, not quite making it froth the way it should to finish. Then, instead of presenting the tea - as would have been customary, she reached for something in the band of the Obi around her waist. With a practiced flick of her wrist, the butterfly knife in her hand snapped into place.
Josef stared at it. He'd seen it before - or at least one like it - and knew instantly that it was made from solid silver. He knew she thought he was unaware of such an instrument in his house, but he wasn't. He had smelled the evidence of the acrid smelling metal on her hands; he could hear the faint clicking sounds when she toyed with it behind closed doors in a nervous habit of opening and closing it repetitively. He had even thought of demanding its disposal, but decided to watch and wait for her intent. He couldn't help but wonder what she was doing with it now.
"Careful there, Chaos." he said. He didn't think she'd do anything intentionally, but the sight of sharpened silver put him on edge.
She looked up at him and smiled, placing the blade in the palm of her hand and pulling down sharply, so that she cut into the skin - just deep enough to draw blood, and winced slightly at the sting. She cleaned the knife, laid it aside, and held her fist over the bowl - pressing her fingers tight into her palm so that a small stream of red liquid ran into the mixture below. Eris bound the fresh cut with a piece of silk on the tray before reclaiming the bamboo chasen and continuing to whip the drink. Now the froth did form, and carried with it a slightly pink tinge.
With a chain of slow, calculated, quarter turns, she rotated the bowl, so that the decorated side was facing the vampire - the sign that the ceremony had ended, and he could drink. Then she sat back on her heels and waited to see what he would do. The gesture of the ceremony wasn't lost. It was more than an offer of blood - she offered that anyway. It was an act of devotion and a pledge of honor, saying without words that - like the geisha she had borrowed the rite from - she was there for him and whatever he asked of her.
Josef reached down and picked up the offering, again making the customary bow to his hostess, then placed it to his lips and drank.
When he restored the bowl to it's position in the caddy, Eris wiped it out with a cloth, then doused the fire and set the burner aside. She picked the knife up again, closed it, and using the same cloth, she wrapped it tightly so that the metal was completely covered. She placed it in her open, dressed palm and held the hand out for him to take it.
"It's your birthday present." she said quietly, obviously nervous as to his reaction.
It would have seemed strange, even to aggressive or confrontational to most vampires, but Josef understood. She wasn't giving him a silver weapon, she was offering him her trust. The knife was protection of sorts, no doubt kept in reserve just in case he turned on her like most of the people she'd met in her life. She was giving it up to him. For him. She didn't need it anymore.
Josef stood, reaching down to offer her a hand up, even as he took the small bundle from her and relocated it to the top drawer of his desk.
"I thought you'd throw it out." she said, but he shook his head. He wasn't one to waste an offered resource, even if there was a bit of danger involved. It certainly had the element of surprise - he'd just have to remember to have the handle covered in something he could touch.
Eris took the tea set from the floor and set it on one of the room's side tables, then checked to make sure there was no ash left behind. As she stood back up, she found that he had once again come to stand silently behind her, dropping his hands to her hips. He could hear the blood in her veins as it sped its pace, and Josef smiled at the sight of the pulse in her neck beginning to visibly jump under her skin just below the collar of her kimono. Her short cropped hair made it so much easier - there was no obstruction to mar his view; nothing to move out of the way. He ran the back of his finger down the line of her throat, getting a shiver in response, then trailed down her arm until he reached Eris' bandaged hand.
"So, if I don't get a cake, do I still get a wish?" Josef raised the hand to his mouth and placed a kiss to her knuckles.
"Happy birthday, Josef." she said, turning her hand over and offering him access to her wrist.
"Just what I wanted." he grinned against the delicate skin, savoring the scent for a moment before sliding his fangs through the yielding flesh.
He was beginning to like birthdays.
Birthday Presents III—Wrapped in Black Satin (Lucky)
Josef looked up in surprise as Faction entered the room. “What brings you here, Formidable? I thought you and Turbo were going out.”
Faction smiled gleefully at him, before turning to grab a metal stand supporting an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne chilling in it and wrestle it through the doorway. “We are. I’m just making a delivery. Wait there.” She exited, only to reappear seconds later bearing a tray holding two Waterford champagne flutes, a small crystal bottle filled with blood, and an envelope. “Have fun,” she said, eyes sparkling.
“Always,” Josef replied, but Faction was already gone. “Hmmm.” He was addressing the empty air. “This has definite possibilities.”
It was still early in the evening; in fact, his day had not begun in earnest. There were certain advantages in this modern age to being nocturnal—being at the top of his form for making international calls at what most considered odd hours was one of them. There were few hours of the day when some major market wasn’t open. For now, though, in these early hours of the night, he was more than ready to relax, to be entertained.
The champagne he recognized as an excellent vintage. Special occasion stuff, he thought as he slid it back into the ice. He noted the sleek modern chrome and glass ice bucket and stand with approval. Not a trace of silver. Thoughtful.
The crystal bottle was next to be investigated. He removed the stopper and sniffed. As he thought. Lucky. Of course, he’d recognized the handwriting on the envelope as he picked it up, the heavy cream paper crackling in his hands. He smiled. Even the texture of the paper had been chosen with care, the note beautifully written in black ink that almost leaped off the paper.
Josef--
Whether you realize it or not, this is a special night. Cork the champagne, and I’ll be with you.
--Lucky
The vampire felt a minor twinge of misgiving, but suppressed it at once. After all, this was Lucky, always so modest and circumspect. Even at her most abandoned, she still maintained a certain air of reserve. He’d known his share—well, probably more than his share, if the truth be told—of wild freshies, and enjoyed them fully, but Lucky was one of the ones who could soothe him into peacefulness, and he found that valuable, too.
Still, nothing ventured and all that. The champagne cork popped with an echoing crack like a gunshot, and before Josef could finish filling the two flutes with the foaming liquid, Lucky walked in.
Josef paused in mid-pour at the sight. Lucky’s long red hair was not in its customary severe braid, from which enticing little tendrils always seemed to escape, but foamed around her shoulders in a pre-Raphaelite mass of curls, held back from her temples with a pair of jeweled combs.
It was her attire that really caught and held his attention, however. He was used to seeing her in little satin nightgowns, but her color choices had always run to jewel tones, rich teals and sapphire blues and emerald greens. Tonight she wore a very simple and elegant black satin creation, cut low to show off the pale perfection of her neck and shoulders, and swirling down to mid-thigh, flowing over her body like living darkness.
“Evening, Josef,” she said. “Like what you see?”
“Always.” He put the champagne bottle down, and carefully poured a small amount of blood from the crystal flagon into one glass. Grasping it carefully by the fragile stem, he held up his free hand, pointing down, and made a circular motion. “Turn around.”
She laughed, executing a quick pirouette. Josef thought he caught a quick flash of her alabaster left thigh much higher than she was usually comfortable with displaying, but perhaps he was mistaken. She moved closer, holding out a hand for a glass.
“So what’s this big occasion, babe?”
“Didn’t you know? It’s your birthday, Josef,” she smiled.
“I could swear I just had a birthday a few weeks ago.”
Lucky shrugged, making the ruby at her throat bounce. “Did you? Well, we figure that if you have four birthdays a year, for the next hundred years or so, you’ll begin to get caught up.”
“You girls worked this all out, did you? Do you see any problems with the math there?” Josef spoke as gently as he could. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, wondering if she would realize he was speaking to remind himself of certain realities.
If there was a shadow that crossed Lucky’s face at that remark, it was gone almost before it began. “You’ll always have freshies, Josef,” she said lightly. “Consider it the beginning of a tradition.” She raised her glass. “To your birthday, dear Josef. May you have many, many more.”
They sipped champagne, Josef savoring it far more for the sweet blood he’d added than for the skill of the vintner. Lucky could tell he was waiting. Patient, but waiting. She put her glass aside.
“Would you care to sit?” she asked. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”
His face lighted with a bit of an impish grin, and Lucky felt her heart beat a little faster. “I was wondering when we’d get to the presents part.”
“Sit.”
“Any preference where?”
She pretended to consider, then gestured. “Couch.”
He took one more sip of his drink, then set it aside, moving through the room with that peculiar lithe grace that always characterized his stride. He sank onto the cream leather slowly, never taking his eyes from the freshie. He could see now that his earlier observation had been correct. The nightie had a discreet slit up the front of the left thigh, and as she walked forward toward him, her skin, almost luminous beneath the darkness of the shimmering fabric, drew his eye and made him breathe in deeply.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look more edible, Lucky,” he said.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt more edible, Josef,” she replied. She stopped directly in front of him, leaning forward and putting one hand lightly on his shoulder to steady herself. Carefully, she placed her right knee on the couch, and shifting her weight to it, straddled his thighs to settle onto his lap. Josef swallowed, and loosened a necktie that had suddenly become uncomfortable.
“Lucky—“
“Shhh. Give me your left hand, Josef.”
“What?” He almost had trouble speaking around the fangs that had extended in a rush. She was too close, too open to him at this moment, and he told himself control was everything.
“It’s all right. Everything is all right.” She paused. “Give me your hand.”
Slowly, hesitantly he raised his hand and placed in hers. Without taking her eyes from his, she lifted it to her lips and began to kiss each fingertip in turn, placing them just within her parted lips.
Josef’s breath left him in a slow, audible sigh. “How far do you think you can push me, Lucky?” he asked, but he made no motion to stop her.
“Just far enough.” His hand was still captured in hers, but now she lowered it, brushing past her breasts, coming to rest on the delicate skin of her thigh, exposed by the slit in her gown. She moved his fingertips along the silk of her skin, higher, higher. She had never looked down, never looked away, and when she spoke, it was so low that even his vampire senses had to strain to hear. “Do you remember,” she whispered, “my scars? The ones you said once were an obscenity?”
He remembered. The ragged scars left on her from the fangs of a vicious rival, a vampire who sought to kill his freshie just to spite him. The scars left from his failure to foresee the danger, to protect her from the consequences of his actions in a sphere that did not even include her. She’d said the scars reminded her of what he’d done for her afterward, but he had always hated the thought that they existed, even if she kept them hidden.
Now, where he knew perfectly well there should be rough reminders of the savage bite that had almost killed her, there was nothing but smooth skin. His sensitive touch could feel only the faintest traces of neat, surgical incisions. “You had the scars removed?” he asked.
Lucky nodded, her lips curving in a slight smile. “I realized I have all the reminders of your kindness in my heart, Josef. I don’t need to touch them on my body. I don’t need to see them every time I take a shower.”
“But—how? When?”
“A few weeks ago. It was an out-patient procedure.”
“I never tasted any painkillers in your blood.”
Lucky laughed. “Which is why I didn’t use any. It would’ve ruined the surprise.”
“I don’t know what to say.” He paused. “Thank you seems inadequate.”
“What can I say? You’re very difficult to shop for, Josef.” She leaned forward to kiss him softly on the cheek, to brush her lips against his beautiful, mobile mouth, and as she did so, she shifted a little, and his hand involuntarily brushed a little higher.
“Lucky?”
“Yes, Josef?” Her voice was getting breathy, and he knew the situation was once again teetering on the brink.
“You’re not—wearing—“
“I never do, Josef. Just in case.”
With a groan, he snatched his hand away, and grabbing her arms almost roughly turned her off his lap, twisting so that she was pinned beneath him on the couch. She made no move to struggle, even as his eyes turned silver, shining like ice in the dim light.
“Turn your head,” he growled. Her red hair was like silk against his forehead as he put his mouth to her throat, his fangs piercing her skin easily. As he drank, he was acutely conscious of her body, quivering beneath his, her legs thrown around his hips, her hands rising to twine through his short hair. He could feel the heat of her, burning through his clothes, smell the intoxicating scent of her passion. If she cried out as he fed from her, it had nothing to do with pain.
Soon, too soon, his thirst was slaked, and he lay, resting his head on her chest, feeling the motion as she breathed, the gentle rise and fall of it. He felt it would be perfect to lie there forever. She raised one hand to stroke his hair. “Happy birthday,” she said.
“Lucky,” he murmured against her skin, “I’m not sure I can live through this four hundred times more.”
