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A short little humorous series of dialogues concerning the characters in the Take Me series.

Will post soon Posted.

Bear in mind that this was written in Japan while on a series of caffeine highs.

He's over there giggling. Leechtin is the type of person who buys dvd's for the director's commentary. Batty.

"Haha, that's genius!" he says, delighted.

I rapped my fingers on the marble countertop, sitting at the bar which joins the kitchen and the living room, feet off the floor on the high barstool.

To me, sexy and beautiful are different, maybe they weren't to me when I was alive (as if my opinion mattered then). Sexy is dark and almost lyrical to me, it wants to be kissed and fondled. Beautiful wants to be looked at, begs me for some kind of worship, which, as I get older, I am more than happy to provide. To Leechtin, I suppose, the line is much less clear. He certainly is the type who loves to kiss and fondle all the time. Usually, I think he's happy.

I rested my head on the bar, watching him like a tired puppy.

"What kind of puppy?"

"Cocker spaniel."

"How delightfully specific."

"Well..."

Leechtin also has the ability to turn people off. I've discovered that ability fresh a number of times, usually when he's tired of being interrogated. Sometimes he warns his victim, "I bet you feel tired," or "sick" he says, and a nice mental thunderbolt following. When I wake up I can't ever remember the exact thing I was talking about before he did it to me, but I haven't told him not to do it. If he wants me to shut up, cool. Usually.

It's almost as if I am a computer. He knows where the off switch is. Isn't that a convenient talent?

I go and I sit with him and I stroke his black hair and he looks at me with soft soft eyes.
+++

Leis is the crazy a*****e responsible for the pirate commentary. He and Laurent like me, a neutral agent. Something no one ever says about Laurent because they admire him so much or something is that he's an obsessive mental hypochondriac.

"Clear the way for Brain Cancer!" Leis says, holding a hand out, ushering his favorite person in front of him.

"I'm telling you I can feel it in there!"

"He can feel it in there, people, this is some serious ******** business."
+++

"He wants to eat me."

"No he doesn't."

"No I can see it in his eyes. It's in there. The 'I'm going to eat you, Laurent, just you wait' gleam."

"Gleam?"

"Gleam. ********," he says, banging on the table, "Just you wait just you wait."

I dipped my face low over my cereal. My delicious delicious cereal.

"How do you know that he isn't just interested in you?"

"Where have you been?"

"Me? Right here. I was in Liverpool for awhile too, but that was pretty ok."

He looked at me, puzzled.

Laurent is not used to being listened to.

"I don't even know what that means, where have you been. Do you want to get a spoon or something? Lucky Charms, man, yeah? Delicious."

He held his neck suspiciously, "You know the gleam. You must see it all the time. You are prettier than me."

"I am handsome," I said, somewhat prickly.

"I am telling you Leechtin has a gleam."

"It's my gleam, man back off, right?"

"No I'm telling you I see it. It's the opposite. I want him to back off."

Leechtin is not the type of cat you can boss around, unfortunately.
+++

"You look like you're having a good time."

"Hey. Don't you go cheating on me now, okay? I've been told tales I'd rather not hear about your eyes in general."

"Whatever do you mean?" Leechtin asked, straightening out his knitting.

"You need to keep your hands off Laurent is what I'm saying. You see what he did to Leis. Don't you go doing that. You don't need that stuff."

He looked off at nothing, eyes smiling, lips pursed.

"No sneakiness."

"I'm not being sneaky at all," he said, serious, "My intentions have all been laid out."

"And what are they?" I asked, no longer light.

"I have no intention of lying in bed with my son, Nataniellus. Really I'm quite clear about that, I think."

"I'm glad we hold the same views about all of these words, Faya."

"Cheat. Son. Vampire. Monster. Life. What are these? And why do you worry?"

I frowned in spite of my desire to feel neutral towards the conversation.

"Come, don't cry. Don't cry at all, Nataniellus. Oh aren't you sweet. Just the same."

I'm not the same.
+++

I love pop music. I don't like to dance very much, but I like to watch other people dance. Leis likes to dance, and he likes to do it in a very uninhibited manner. He went by, boogieshufflin across the floor in the front hall to some merengue.

"That's not the proper dance," I called.

He shuffled out of sight with the addition of one finger to show me how much he cared.
+++

"There's plenty to do."

"Oh yeah?"

"Sure there is. You don't have to go skulking under streetlamps anymore. You can go to a movie, you can go to a bar, go dancing, anything you want. People work during the day. They play during the night. It's a party."

"A party a party sure it's a party you'd say it's a party you own a nightclub."

"And a contract killing business."

"I expect that's lucrative. Who better than you, right?"

"Sure."
+++

You must not resist even if you do not understand.
+++

Leechtin is a lot of my world, and he's a lot of the world for a lot of people, but sometimes I get the feeling that he is doing his best to be consumed with the mostly trivial. He likes to go to fabric stores with me and pick out bolts, minding the textures and smells. He will build clothes like that, preferring the light airy fabrics, bold colors.

He took his hands from my back and sat back on my legs. He was not very heavy.

I rolled my shoulderblades, feeling good from the good massage.

He seemed to be thinking, considering. I drowsed, sleep close to my mind.

He was quiet.

"You must have been a good-"

"Now don't you say it or you'll be made regret it, Faya."

"Am I wrong to think it? I could drink you in a glass."

"I don't know exactly what that means but..."

"Your skin. If it was a liquid it would be like ambrosia and I could drink it and live forever."

"You are not good at romantic talk, Faya. Get off my legs and go to bed."

"Well I am in bed, Nataniellus," he said, and I could hear the smile.

"My thighs are falling asleep."

"I love you," he said, scooping out the words from his body like ice cream at the bottom of the tub. Strongly, with a very sweet, indulgent purpose.

I lowered my brow, "Would you get off?'
+++

It's none of my business what goes on between Leis and Laurent, because they are not like, paramours or anything, and I don't like to gossip. One shouldn't gossip about one's family, I'm just saying that it's weird even by vampire standards. It's too complicated too, like, just work it out talk about it but they keep on going at it with this twisted two faced game. Is it two faced? How can they be honest with each other and keep up like that?

The story seems to me that Laurent made Leis, i.e. they've got a definite connection in terms of nurturing, and Leis needs that closeness, yeah? I mean that's kind of much too cut and dry but it's there, and Laurent is just like... he really likes Leis in a way that I can't figure it out. It's almost filial, which is kind of sick when I say it like that so I'm not going to... say... it...

But Leis is kind of sexy, I don't think that's where Laurent is coming from but you'd really kind of have to be blind.

He kind of just walks up and you're like, "Well who is this? Dear Lord what I have I done to deserve this good-" and then you have to back off and be confused because you know in your deep deep heart that he is off limits. He communicates Off Limits while he communicates Sexy and it's Confusing. And from that Laurent is going "mine" and it's like... what?
+++

"I told you it's none of your business."

"But I deserve to know where you go when you go out."

"Don't you... don't you keep on with this I am not going to listen to you go on with this."

"I can't accept that. I can't keep quiet while you-"

I watched Dasius give his boyfriend a hard dull smack full across the face and squinted, twitching.

I know what it feels like to be smacked like that, but neither of them could possibly be thinking, "How can you love me if you hit me?"

I don't know if it's fair or not to treat Marcellus like that, who hasn't done anything wrong from what I can understand other than growing up and getting curious about who Dasius is, especially because Marcellus is that particular kind of helpless where if Dasius decides he's done with him Marcellus is going to be in really big mortal trouble from his own father, who happens to be (by no coincidence, I understand) Laurent.

What the ******** is up with Laurent's kids? Dasius is one too (don't even try to think about what that makes Marcellus in relation to Dasius, mostly because it doesn't matter but also because it may cause paralysis).

Dasius is the bloke with the nightclubs and the contract killing side job. He's way older than Marcellus in terms of how long he's been alive (what other ways are there you ask? please don't think about this yet...) so he knows better than Marcellus does, and Marcellus is kind of stupid and more naive than he is stupid, so it's a difficult situation. Does that excuse Dasius hitting Marcellus? In my opinion, no, in other peoples', yeah. Yeah.

In the eyes of the coven, Marcellus's life, however beautiful, however innocent in the way that that kind of thing is measured, does not have a very high value. The only thing keeping him alive is Dasius's desparate kind of love, and I do not think Marcellus really understands that. "You can't treat me like this! I deserve to know where you go when you go out." Yes he can; no you don't.

In this kind of world such things seem to be measured with a very bizarre yardstick.
+++

"What is... What is this why are you laughing?"

I sputtered happily, banging my fists on the table, "Leechtin do it again. Do it again, Leechtin."

"What I don't- stop," he said, "Do not titter at me in this manner I do not understand. I am not here for your amusement. Stop it."

He continued whatever it was he was doing, and I couldn't figure out why it was so hilarious.

"I'm sorry, Faya."

"Well no you quite are not, I'm afraid," he said, taking his hair down, fiddling with the bun and the long fall on the back of his head, releasing it, pulling out the gold stick.

I rested my face on my hand, watching him, dreamy with sleep, and happy.

"You used to do that," I said, quietly, sobered again by what I didn't know.

"Do what?" he asked, always ready for sleepy happiness from me.

"Take down your hair at night. You always smelled good."
+++

"Steve McQueen, b***h, don't you know anything? And I don't want any of your stinky pizza. Take it away."
+++

Nicky has a small mouth but he's a wolverine and don't you cross him or you'll end up sans a finger, which is what happened to Marcellus that time. Ask Marcellus why he has four fingers on his left hand instead of five and he'll tell you. Marcellus knew that Nicolas wasn't going to take anything sitting down but he did not expect him to lunge like that, just went for it, pinky finger, now you see it now you don't.

Why is that hilarious? because Marcellus deserved it, that's why. He got it just like he should've gotten it for being a smartass at exactly the wrong person, and it doesn't help at all that Dasius is kind of sort of almost Nicolas's brother from when they were alive. That's a blood grudge for the guy who took away Dasius's attention, and Nicolas is the kind who doesn't even need a blood grudge as an excuse to take out all his frustration on somebody. In this manner, Marcellus gets it coming and going.

I avoid the kid myself in general. I may be four times older than him, but I don't think that would really factor into his reasoning at all if he decided he wanted one of my fingers too for some s**t that I might say after saying too much s**t he didn't like, or that didn't agree with him in some fashion.

I've had ten fingers for 2000 years and I've grown pretty accustomed to them, and I really do not need to be associating with something either that vicious or that disturbed. There is so much unhappiness floating around in this coven, and it's very very contagious.