Memories Like Fingerprints:
The Lost Tape
By Twilight (kitre@agora.rdrop.com)



This spec is a bit along the lines of _Out of the Shadows_, in that 
it attempts to fill in one of the many blanks in Louis' interview.
This one tries to address something that has been written about
a *lot* before: Louis' relationship with Lestat. Why, in _The
Vampire Lestat_, was their reunion more like a lovers' than two
old "friends" if Louis so despised Lestat? I have a feeling
there was much unsaid, or *unprinted*, in his interview.
  This is the b-side to the missing tape that _Interlude with the
Undead_, published in Playboy by Anne Rice, was from. It helps to
read that first, though if you don't have a copy feel free to
mail me, I will send it to you. (Thanks Adonia!) It's not really
required, though. 


__________________________________________________________________



  The boy looked up, a dazed expression on his face, as the vampire
stopped.
  "I was shocked by what Armand had described to me, to say
the least. And yet I wasn't. And I wasn't because of what I had
seen in Lestat."
  The boy looked up at him, crushing his seventh cigarette of
the night out in the ashtray. "Did Lestat hunt like that too?"
  "No, not that I saw, anyway. He never told me, and we hunted
separately. But I knew that vampires could feel that predatory
desire, even for each other. Lestat felt it for me, and I for
him, at times."
  The boy's shocked expression made him laugh. "Oh, I should
have told you before, shouldn't I? But it was neither here
nor there." He stretched his legs out, curling his fingers in
a curiously human gesture.
  "Lestat will always be a mystery to me. But I know what I saw,
and I know what Claudia saw. But I knew from the beginning,
really. And at first it made me despise him all the more.
And I sometimes loved him for it, though he tried to cover it
well.
  "I remember the first time I had any indication that what Lestat
felt for me was not simply what he felt for a banker, or a slave,
as he called me. It was a mere month after he made me a vampire.
  "I woke up late one evening, captivated by a dream I had had
many times, of being mortal and dancing in sunlight. And when I
finally drew myself up out of the dream, I opened my eyes and
realized that the lid of my coffin was open, and I was looking up
at Lestat's face.
  "He looked so peaceful, so tender in that moment, his face almost 
close enough to kiss, that I completely forgot the anger I should
have felt at having my privacy so violated. His fingers were 
stroking my hair, such a gentle touch, and I could see blood tears 
in his eyes. 
  "He was weeping over me!
  "But when he realized that I had awoken, his face transformed,
hardening into a brittle sneer. He hastily blinked away the tears,
angrily telling me it was about time I woke up, did I know
how late it was?
  "But I didn't forget that brief loving look on his face.
I don't know why he was so embarrassed about his emotions, but
he obviously was. Whenever it became apparent to me what he was
really thinking inside that hard shell, he would become even
more short-tempered, desperately trying to cover it up. But
I could see how he looked at me, and how pleased he seemed when
he caught me looking at him, those few times. Confused as I
was, I knew what it meant..."
  The vampire leaned back in his chair, running his fingers
through his long hair and sighing. He looked momentarily at
the recording device.
  "When it really changed was about twenty years after Claudia's
creation. I remember this clearly, because it was shortly after 
her twenty-fourth birthday, and she had such questions for me,
such questions...
  "I remember her coming into my room one night. I was reading a
collection of Shakesphere's sonnets, and then I looked up to
see her tiny face peering at me from the doorway. 
  "I put the book down, and she closed the door behind her, 
moving across the room to sit in my lap. And I stroked her golden
hair, still treating her as an impossibly sweet child-doll, even
though she would be a young woman if she was mortal. And her 
silver-bell voice was still childlike as she spoke to me.
  "'Louis, why do mortals look at each other that way?'"
  "'What way?' I said, thinking I already knew what she meant.
  "'The way mortal women look at you and Lestat. The way Lestat
looks at you.'
  "Carefully, I asked her what she meant by this, what look she
meant. I think my head was spinning.
  "'That...hungry look in their eyes. Lestat looks at you that
way. When we are all sitting in the library reading, he looks at
you that way. As if he meant to devour you with his eyes.'
  "'I don't quite remember...' I said, lying a little. 'I shall
have to talk to Lestat.'
  "'You will tomorrow, right...?' There was something strangely
hopeful in her voice. And I never did find out what she was so
eager about.
  "'Right, my little love, but not tonight. It's nearly daylight.'
  "And as I carried her already-drowsy body to our coffin, 
pressing my face against her soft hair within its dark confines, I
could not take my mind off what she said. What did it mean?
What did Lestat want from me?
  "As soon as I awoke the next evening, I went to Lestat's room,
noticing that he had only just woken up. He was sitting on the
bed, his open coffin on the floor beside his feet, stretching
lazily. His eyes...changed, when he saw me in the doorway.
  "'What do you want, Louis? Help finding suitable prey maybe?'
  "His eyes were hard, and yet there was something in their 
depths, something...
  "'Why do you say these things to me, Lestat?'
  "'Because you'll hear them, you need to know what it is to
be a vampire!'
  "'I don't think that's what this is about...'
  "Then what is it about, Louis, you who knows everything? What
do I think when I say such things to you?'
  "'I think you're afraid of me. And I don't know why...'
  "'Why should I ever fear you?' Lestat's words were full of his
usual bravado, but his face had the strangest look, like that
of a man trapped in a room with a cobra. As if he were trapped...
  "'Why do you pretend to hate me? I don't think you do. What
are you trying to hide?'
  "'Nothing...' But his face became even more disturbed as I 
crept closer, his hand clutching at the sheets of the bed.
  "'I don't believe you. You lie to me, always, why should
I believe that you don't now? Why do you really treat me as
a slave, why do you lie when you could as easily kill me?
Why do you treat me this way?'
  "He tried to scoot away from me, his eyes wide. There was
something wrong with his breathing. 'Leave me...'
  "'No. I won't leave until you tell me!'
  "He sat there in silence, obviously hating it, feeling the
heat of my glare. His voice was so quiet, barely a whisper...
  "'I don't hate you, Louis.'
  "'Then why do you do this?' My voice was harder, louder,
more emotional than I expected.
  "He looked down, then up again, the sapphire intensity of
his eyes gazing into mine.
  "'Because I love you.'
  "'Liar.'
  "'No...'
  "'If you love me, why do you do this?'"
  "'How would you have me love you?' His eyes were angry now.
'With sweet words, like mortal lovers? Poems, maybe? You
would have never accepted such things from me. I was the blond
demon who damned you to this life, not something to love.'
  "His words cut me, because I knew he was right. He was on
his feet now, a few steps away from me, his hair disheveled and
the most horrifying glare on his face, softening even as I
watched. His voice was quieter now, less explosive.
  "'How would you have me love you?' His hands lightly framed
my face. He stepped closer, and I could feel his breath upon my
cheek, across my lips. 'With a mortal gesture, simple and
meaningless as a kiss...?'
  "The question in his voice was clear. And my head was so dizzy
in that moment that I think I forgot to breathe. I tilted my head
up just the tiniest fraction, unwittingly inviting, and his lips
touched mine. It was a gentle, sweet kiss, not what I was
expecting from Lestat at all. His soft blond hair brushed against
my face, mingling with inky black strands of my own hair, joining
us.
  "I stood there, letting him kiss me for a moment, until my fear
got the better of me. I broke away from him then, running out
of his room and out one of the back doors into an orchard a ways 
from the house. I stood there by an apple tree, staring at the moon 
reflecting blue on the grass at my feet, thinking. I could 
feel blood-tears welling in my eyes, my thoughts a red haze of 
jumbled emotion. I didn't know what I wanted, or what he wanted, but 
there was something there, a spark bringing us together...
  The vampire sighed again, stretching one of his arms as if it 
were stiff. There was a slight wistful smile on his face as he
spoke.
  "It was then that I heard footsteps behind me, a rustling in
the grass. I was almost afraid to turn and look, for I knew who
it was. I was embarrassed by the intensity of my feelings, the
confusion surrounding them. But I had no choice but to look when
I felt his hand fall lightly on my shoulder. 
  "His eyes were so blue. I was once again hypnotized by their
brightness, their purity, as the moonlight amplified the color
into something impossible, the glowing blue at the center of
a blazing fire. And in those eyes was the same bewilderment,
the same wonder, that I knew was reflected in mine. His
voice was husky, soft, a shadow of itself, as he spoke.
  "'Louis...'