Chapter Text
When Daniel woke up on Christmas Day with Armand's chilly nose poking him in the back of the neck, he took it as a sign that the weather gods had finally gotten with the program and dumped a long-heralded load of snow onto the New York streets. The park across from the Trinity Gate complex had transformed into a winter wonderland overnight, and Daniel lingered for some time in front of the windows to watch the neighbourhood kids battle it out between the frost-laden trees, their screeches and hollers carried off by the wind.
In past years, he might have wandered downstairs and braved the streets to get a steaming cup of coffee and pastries from the bakery at the other end of the block. Conveniently, Armand had retrieved both items for him on his way back from his hunt, keeping them warm inside the microwave until Daniel saw fit to rise for breakfast. The vampire had slipped into bed somewhere around dawn and his extremities still hadn't adjusted back to room temperature by the time Daniel had shaken off the cobwebs of sleep enough to roll out of bed and start the day.
As he sipped the freshly procured coffee, Daniel let himself steep in the bittersweet afterglow that always followed in the wake of any family event. Christmas Eve dinner with the girls had ended on as positive a note as he could have hoped for, with neither tears nor drunkenly-slung insults. They'd managed to keep the conversation civil for the most part: no one had remarked upon Alice's glaring absence at the table, and Armand had pretended to savour each dish for the benefit of the girls' unsuspecting partners. They'd even hugged shortly after midnight when Daniel had been about to get into a taxi, and Armand had set out on foot in the opposite direction to hunt. It had been an excellent start to the festive season, and quite possibly the most peaceful Christmas Eve Daniel had sat through since his early thirties. Maybe he'd saved up all his Christmas miracles for the end of his lifetime.
Humming a carol under his breath, he carried the rest of his breakfast into his office and booted up the new desktop Armand had gotten him when Interview's rough draft had fully entered the editing process. It had arrived at the door accompanied by no less than three large monitors and a whole range of ergonomic office equipment. Almost four months later, Daniel's back was ready to sing Armand's praises even if he'd loudly complained about the vampire splurging so much money on him at the time.
He'd eventually grown to tolerate Armand's bouts of charity, unpredictable as they were, even learned to accept that the warmth which bloomed in his chest at every small gesture was something he needn't shrink away from. Living together after so many years of increasing social isolation had surprisingly agreed with Daniel to the point where he'd stopped asking Armand if he had any plans to move on yet, and the vampire, in turn, had seemingly ceased searching for a new place to live altogether. Of course, not all of it was sunshine and roses — they were both too old and set in their ways for that — but if this inertia would someday lead them to catastrophe, then the company at least made the bitter parts of reality easier to swallow for Daniel. Like the instant messages that his Talamasca editors kept sending to him whenever he was behind schedule on delivering a chapter, for example.
JR: Just wanted to remind you that today is Saturday, Mr. Molloy. You've missed the deadline by three calender days. Please confirm whether we can expect the chapter this weekend.
Jeez, do they have you work the weekends now? He shot back with a sigh, then added: You'll thank me for being late.
How so? Blinked into existence almost instantly.
Finished the manuscript. You'll have it tonight, before I leave for the bookshop event.
Daniel leaned back in his office chair with no small amount of smugness at that. He'd neglected mentioning how far he'd progressed with his final edits just for the satisfaction of getting the equivalent of a dumbfounded silence in the chat box, short-lived though it was.
Great! :D
Damn, they really need to quit letting kids into secret societies, he thought as he drained the last of his coffee. Their uncomplicated ways of conveying enthusiasm online were far too innocent for what the Talamasca was plotting behind the scenes. He didn't bother to hit reply and moved to open his manuscript on a different screen and went to work on fulfilling his self-imposed deadline.
The hours bled into one another as he tweaked a few lines, resolved notes left by the editors and checked if the footnotes were linked and formatted properly. He shovelled down the pastries, made more coffee and let it grow cold before he distantly registered water rushing through the pipes in the wall as the shower in his ensuite bathroom was turned on. He glanced at the bottom of the screen: 2 PM, somebody was up bright and early.
Promptly deciding he was due a break himself, Daniel sent his computer to sleep and stretched with a groan. The last time he'd had to spend weeks writing and editing a full book, he'd been a younger man — although not that young comparatively speaking — and the aches and pains had definitely multiplied in the intervening years. His spine popped with a dull crack that sent endorphins rushing through his bloodstream; he bet Armand would love a sip of that. Not that Daniel had made a habit out of feeding the vampire his blood, but occasionally it just… happened.
On many fronts, living together with Armand had been like rehabilitating an atrophied muscle. Daniel often he found himself operating on some long-buried behavioural pattern rather than the one they'd established since returning from Dubai, drawing from all these half-recovered memories of the time they'd co-housed in the seventies and early eighties. Something as simple as the innate knowledge that Armand would fastidiously clean the shower drain every Tuesday had the ability to send Daniel's mind reeling, and that was just the kind of shit that didn't get at him on an emotional level.
He stepped outside of his office and let his gaze take inventory of the apartment they'd shared for a little over a year. The signs of Armand's continued presence were spread all over the place, from the dissected tablet lying on the coffee table to the bouquet of red carnations that held pride of place near the entryway, so Daniel always returned home to a pop of colour rather than the dreary greys and beiges of his supposed bachelor pad. Unexpectedly, Daniel had found a true appreciation for these small touches to his living space, which he'd neglected to add after his messy split from Joyce and the rushed move back into Trinity Gate. Daniel would be sad to see them go once Armand decided to leave for brighter pastures.
They'd created their own weird version of domesticity over the past year, Daniel mused as he turned his back on the living room to locate more coffee grounds in the kitchen cabinets. A stalemate to their previous battles in which the agreed upon terms were that neither of them should mention Daniel's odd dreams or how absurdly natural it felt to wake up next to one another every morning or evening. Or that Armand put way too much trust in Daniel when it came to restocking the shelf-stable foods.
Disappointed by the lack of coffee grounds, Daniel unearthed an ancient box of tea bags from the back of the cabinet. As he put the kettle on — another one of Armand's purchases — he heard the door of their bedroom open and close followed by the soft padding of feet down the hallway.
'I'm in the kitchen,' he called out, ignoring the fact that the vampire could locate him in an instant using the sound of his heartbeat. 'And we're out of coffee. Again.'
'Which is why I bought you the largest portion size at the shop,' Armand said patiently. He was buttoning up a shirt that Daniel didn't recognise, likely a trophy from last night's hunt. He'd begun treating his hunts like well-organised shopping trips, hitting only those demographics that could supply him with clothes that suited his ridiculously expensive taste. Last month he'd been busy adding to his ring collection, lining them up in a row on the headboard for Daniel to admire while he himself studied and cleaned them with the intensity of a kid who's just discovered the existence of walking twigs. It was fortunate that Daniel was a proponent of 'eating the rich' and didn't mind the trophies as long as Armand kept the results of his biological experiments stored in the mini fridge they'd bought for that exact purpose. His skin itched just thinking about the first time he'd found a human hand in the freezer…
The audible click as the kettle finished boiling the water made Daniel snap back into focus. 'Yeah. Thanks for the cup. I made some more after and didn't realise we were so close to running out of grounds.'
'You're unusually scatterbrained for this hour in the afternoon, which means you haven't had lunch yet,' Armand observed with an accusatory look. 'How many times do I have to tell you that you need to eat according to the schedule or your medication won't work as well?' He cut Daniel off as he tried to get a word in. 'Never mind, I'll fix you something.'
Sheepishly, Daniel let him shoulder him aside. 'I forgot.'
Armand's top lip curled in barely disguised frustration, but he spared Daniel any further snide remarks as he began to gather the ingredients for lunch. Sometimes Daniel fancied he could read whole novels in the colourful striations of Armand's eyes and tragedies on the fraught silences between them.
'I'm sorry,' Daniel tried again as he poured the hot water into a mug and dunked in the tea bag with rather more force than required. 'I set a work deadline for myself and lost track of the necessary evils of living. You know how I get.' Excuses that sounded weak even to his own ears and yet Armand exhaled, shoulders relaxing infinitesimally.
'It's fine, Daniel,' he said more to the cooking utensils in the drawer than to him. Daniel resolved to repeat his apology later without the accoutrements of self-defence. 'Go back to work and I'll make do with what we have.'
'If you're sure.' One day Daniel would learn how to say no to the demands Armand put to him, but it wasn't today. Or likely tomorrow.
Armand finally deigned him worthy of a glance. 'I am.'
Daniel backed away slowly, drinking in that golden gaze through the steam rising from his mug until it mellowed in amusement as he nearly crashed into the wall. 'Got something to show you after. If you have a minute.'
Armand merely shooed him off towards the office in response, already turning back to the task he'd set himself, and Daniel took the opening to scram.
When he settled back into his office chair, he was unsurprised to see that a new Talamasca email had landed in his inbox. He'd received a flurry of them whenever a chapter came close to being finished, usually containing a multitude of last-minute demands which he gleefully disregarded. In every good working relationship, people knew their place: writing was his business, spying on his progress was theirs. Suffice it to say, his attitude had not gone over well with a lot of them. Only the young and impressionable JR had stuck with him from beginning to end, and he'd be kind of sad to see them go. No doubt there was another super secret Talamasca project waiting for them.
Mentally preparing himself to send a cool "no can do" back, he clicked open the email and felt his frown deepening as he settled in to read the block of text that had been tossed his way, which sounded nothing like the agents he'd been regularly in contact with.
Dear Mr. Molloy
My apologies that it took so long for me to introduce myself but my organisation sometimes expands faster than I can keep track of. You wouldn't agree with me that it is a positive sign for the future of the world, as your handler and editors have seen fit to report your reluctance to let us assist you in creating your magnum opus.
Rest assured, I am most grateful for your contribution to our noble cause of studying and regulating the supernatural, especially for the extraneous details you so graciously incorporated into the text. I'm certain I will take great enjoyment in reading through your finished manuscript these next few days.
I believe the organisation could benefit from further cooperation between us. We would be honoured to receive you at one of our Motherhouses to discuss further employment opportunities if you're amenable. We will, of course, cover all travel expenses made on your own behalf.
With deepest respect
M. E. Huisman
Leaning back into his chair, Daniel ignored his impulse to immediately type a scathing reply in favour of digesting what he'd just read. Beneath the layers of flattery and polite entreaty, he could almost hear the threatening hiss of a snake, patiently waiting for him to poke a foot into its den. Did this Huisman expect him to accept the offer blindly? If so, he would disprove having learned anything about Daniel's personality from the reports made by Raglan and his editors, and Daniel didn't think the Talamasca leadership was capable of such stupidity.
In Dubai, the organisation had clearly illustrated that they were capable of turning every small misfortune into something that directly profited them in the long run. Daniel had been reliant on their assistance to lob the final bomb, and they'd cashed that check by forcing him to agree to their editorial interference lest he'd lose both his work and Armand in one fell swoop. Point being, the Talamasca knew how to earn compliance through all kinds of sordid manipulation techniques, which made it all the more alarming that they'd chosen to go the most outwardly cordial route.
A soft knock at the door announced Armand's arrival and Daniel broke away from his ruminations to accept the cutlery and glass that were floating towards him while the vampire slid his keyboard aside to put down his plate. The fragrant spices of a homemade traditional tortilla permeated the air and Daniel almost moaned his thanks before spearing his first bite. The egg was so cloudy and soft that it melted on his tongue.
Pleased to watch him enjoy the meal, Armand folded his arms along the high back of the office chair and peered at the screens Daniel had left up on the monitors. This close, Daniel could smell the new cologne he'd spritzed on after the shower, earthy like crushed leaves but with an underlying sharpness that Daniel found impossible to place. He could pinpoint the exact moment Armand began to read Huisman's email by how his posture lost its languid quality.
Patiently, Daniel waited for the vampire to sift through the words, quietly noting how he began to rub his fingers together in a familiar stress response. 'I don't like this man's tone,' Armand said at length. 'It reeks of the kind of smug superiority intended to provoke an opponent into making a fatal mistake, much like how cold-hearted Claudia lured Lestat into an early grave.'
Daniel let that slight against the younger vampire slide and finished chewing before he responded: 'I strongly suspect this Huisman knows full-well that I'll refuse any further employment, so we've got to wonder if this is just a jovial attempt at getting me on their good side, or if the Talamasca already has a plan in place for when I do refuse.'
Armand hummed pensively. 'Seeing as he's in a position to offer you employment, he's likely associated with the Motherhouse in Amsterdam, but that doesn't make his overtures any more trustworthy. Amsterdam is notorious for interfering in the lives of Old World immortals. Perhaps he's interested in turning your journalistic talents on them next.'
'In that case, he'll just have to come out and say he wants to include me in his blackmail arsenal and add a couple millions to my whore number,' Daniel scoffed, disliking how Armand's mouth grew tight with worry.
'Don't provoke them in turn, Daniel, they will strike back.' Those restless, slender fingers skated along the curls on top of Daniel's head. 'Although you are under my protection, I have my limits. I cannot be everywhere all at once.'
'Then what about this: I don't reply at all,' Daniel proposed blithely as he craned his head back into the touch. 'That way we don't have to worry about me mortally wounding a high-level bureaucrat's feelings with my blunt words.'
A corner of Armand's mouth reluctantly curled up. 'Sometimes silence is the worse offence.'
'Okay, then we just let them stew in it for a couple of days while we decide what to do. Maybe we're looking at it too negatively and the Talamasca is just offering to add to my personal security after the book hits the shelves.' He paused to pin Armand with a heavy look. 'It would take some of the responsibility off your shoulders. Not that I've ever asked you to play guardian, mind you. When you feel it's done, it's done.'
Armand retracted his hands, no doubt upset at the implication that he could just pack up his bags and leave even if he had all the right to do so. 'Now you're just being ridiculous,' he said testily, gesturing dismissively. 'The Talamasca cares for little apart of ensuring their own continued existence. If the world were to burn tomorrow, they would grab a lawn chair and a drink and watch it unfold with unscrupulous glee while taking their ever-important notes.'
Daniel turned his chair away from the screens to give him his full attention. 'It was just an idea. We'll have plenty of time to discuss it before New Year's.' He gave a smile like a peace offering. 'I'm handing in the manuscript today, which is what I wanted to show you in the first place.'
Gaze bleeding gold, Armand considered him for a long moment, and Daniel was proud to say that his smile didn't crack in the face of that blank expression. Naturally, the vampire's sentiments towards the book were complicated, tangled with the hurt that was simultaneously fresh and ancient. While he wasn't in favour of publishing Interview himself, he'd nonetheless aided Daniel in its creation over the past year, supplying Daniel with useful notes on historical events while maintaining a cautious distance from the text itself.
Now Daniel found himself bridging that distance in good faith, catching one of Armand's hands — lotioned into wonderful, buttery softness — and cradling it between his. 'You don't need to feel happy, or sad, or angry, or even relieved that it's over. Just know that there will likely be some changes, both for better and worse, and maybe that means we can start moving on for once.'
Bit by bit, the blankness drained away as Armand stepped closer and finally sank down on his knees in front of Daniel, so they were face to face. 'Mark my words, Danny, there will be trouble.'
'Truckloads, I bet.'
A flicker of mirth danced through his pupils. 'Entire landfills, more likely.'
Daniel licked his lips nervously, unable to rip his eyes away from the face that had grown so unexpectedly dear to him. 'But we won't get bogged down by all the shit, huh?'
Finally, the tremulous smile that never ceased to restore some of Daniel's equilibrium. 'Of course not.'
They regarded each other for a long time, simply letting the comfortable silence blanket them. It was a testament to their shifting dynamic that Daniel had ceased to think of Armand's episodes of absolute stillness as something unsettling or dangerous. Somewhere along the road he'd developed the backbone to sit in that stillness instead of anxiously trying to shatter it. Daniel waited until Armand rewarded his patience with a slow blink, signalling that he'd cast off the last of his gloomy spirals of thought.
'I feel like I'm distracting you from your work,' the vampire admitted, slowly rising from his crouched posture. His hands slipped free from Daniel's. 'Especially since you've so boldly promised to finish Interview today while we both know that you've got other obligations this evening.' He narrowed his eyes. 'Unless you've been so rude as not to inform me that the event's been cancelled.'
Daniel waved his concerns away. 'I wish! They still want to hear this old guy blabber about past career highlights, so you can go enjoy your night at the opera guilt-free. I won't waste away at home like a sad little houseplant.' Armand had gushed so much about the tickets Daniel had gifted him for Christmas that he would have likely dragged the vampire to the Metropolitan Opera by the scruff of his neck even if he'd insisted on staying home to keep him company.
Armand stepped away with a roll of his eyes. 'Fine, I'm sure the singers will make for such delightful company that I'll hardly miss you. Finish your food while I put out some clothes for tonight, then the manuscript can have your undivided attention again.'
'Yes, boss,' Daniel mock-saluted, failing to hide his grin as Armand turned on his heel with a huff. What a strangely wonderful thing to have grown used to.