From: Nancy E. Kaminski [nancykam@mediaone.net] Sent: Saturday, August 25, 2001 1:43 AM To: FKFIC-L (E-mail); Unnamed Faction (E-mail) Subject: UF: A Work of Art is a Joy Forever (01/01) ================================= A Work of Art is a Joy Forever A Conversion Day Story by Nancy Kaminski August 24, 2001 PG-13 for mentions of male anatomy ================================= It's Lacroix's conversion day, the 1,922nd anniversary of the eruption of Vesuvius, which took place on August 24, 79 AD. I can't let the occasion go by unmarked, so here is this year's Conversion Day story. You might want to review last year's story, "It's the Thought That Counts," which is briefly referenced here. This story is actually a sort of sequel to that one. May you enjoy many more anniversaries, Lacroix! Happy Conversion Day! ******************** "Nick, this isn't the way home -- unless we're taking the scenic route." Natalie peered through the windshield of the Caddy at the upscale buildings passing by. "Not that I don't like seeing where the other half live, of course." She and Nick had spent a pleasant Friday evening at an art gallery opening. The featured artist was extremely avant-garde and pretentious, the champagne bad, and the art worse. Nat had barely been able to contain herself when Nick, coming face-to-face with the artist while examining one of her sculptures, had proclaimed in a thick German accent that the chunk of granite with bits of foil, string and a pair of eyeglasses stuck to it 'spoke of the essence of the human experience and the utter emptiness of Western materialism.' As the woman's thin cheeks flushed with pleasure he thanked her gravely for the moving experience and kissed her hand, then swept Nat away around a corner where she could collapse against him in helpless silent laughter, safely out of view. Nick had maintained his German art critic persona through the rest of the exhibit, giving Nat a running critique while she nodded wisely and agreed with everything he said. They even gathered a small following of fellow gallery-goers who trailed behind them, hanging on Nick's every word. They had a grand time of the charade, which ended only when Nick saw that Nat was on the verge of a terminal case of the giggles. Now, on the way home, Nat said, "That was very naughty, you know." "Yes, it was," Nick said complacently. "But too fun to resist." "So why are we driving home this way?" "I have to drop something off. It'll just take a minute." He gestured behind him. "It's the box on the back seat." Nat craned her head around. There was a tastefully wrapped, rather large package sitting in the middle of the vast back seat of the Caddy. "What's that?" "Oh, just a gift." "Oh? Who for?" Nick pulled over to the curb and shut off the engine. As usual, there was a spot right in front of his destination, an obviously expensive condominium. Natalie felt a pang of envy. She never got good parking spots like that. "It's for Lacroix," Nick said. Natalie boggled. "You're kidding! Why are you giving that old dragon a present?" "It's his Conversion Day." Nick got out and retrieved the present from the back seat. It seemed to be rather heavy, though of course Nick made light work of carrying it. "Do you want to come in and wait in the lobby? This'll just take a minute," he repeated. Natalie got out and trailed after her companion. "Conversion Day?" she asked herself. "What's that?" Nick produced a key and unlocked the ornate door. Holding it open, he ushered her into an expensive-looking lobby. "Lacroix lives here? I thought he lived at the Raven. And what's a Conversion Day?" She settled into a lushly upholstered armchair and looked at Nick for an explanation. He looked faintly embarrassed. "Well, it's, uh, it's the anniversary of the day that, you know, he was..." He gestured vaguely towards his neck. Nat gaped. "You mean, the day that he was..." she gestured just as vaguely towards her own neck. "Oh." She paused. "You *celebrate* that?" Nicked edged towards the elevator. "Yeah, you know, sort of like a birthday. Anyway, I'll just drop this off and..." His last word was lost behind the closing of the elevator doors. Nat flopped back in the chair. "They celebrate the day -- or night, rather -- they join the night shift?" she asked the air. "I wonder what kind of a present you give for that?" She spent the next ten minutes lost in speculation about the gift. Then she spent a further ten minutes wondering what Nick had received for *his* Conversion Day, and when exactly that day was, and if she should send a card, although considering Nick's general attitude towards his conversion, that didn't seem like such a good idea. Then she began to get impatient. "A few minutes," she grumbled, looking at her watch. "They're probably up there having a great time opening the present, and I'm stuck down here." She looked at the elevator. She had noticed it had gone to the top floor. "I wonder." She resolutely went to the elevator and punched the Up button. Hey, it couldn't hurt to remind Nick she had to get home soon. She would just knock on the door. That was all. It would be a bonus if she caught a glimpse of the monster's lair. In the elevator she noted the top floor was marked with a P. Penthouse. Naturally, she mused, would Lacroix live in an ordinary condo? Of course not. He was penthouse all the way. The elevator zoomed silently skyward, leaving her to wonder why Nick allowed his own elevator to rattle and creak so badly. As she contemplated the contrast between the two vampires' abodes (penthouse vs. warehouse, elegant and Danish modern vs. dark and moody) the elevator sighed to a halt and swooshed open its doors. And instead of a hallway, she was in a foyer. She froze. The elevator opened right into the penthouse. Ohmigod... She peered in. It was expansive and full of light, beautifully furnished with more Danish modern furniture in pale colors, all tans and beiges and golden wood. It was practically cheerful. It was so unLacroixian she almost believed she was in the wrong place. But then she saw her quarry. Or quarries. The two vampires were peeking around the edge of the curtain covering a large French door, which apparently led onto a balcony. They seemed to be watching something intently. They were certainly oblivious to her arrival. Nick chuckled and elbowed his sire. "Look! Here she comes again!" Lacroix shifted his position to get a better look. "Yes, and she appears to have her neighbor, Mrs. Trombley, with her." He snorted in what Natalie realized was laughter. Lacroix laughing? Her mind reeled. "Look!" Nick said again, "She's got a camera!" "I have noted that she does not appear to own binoculars. I surmise she's using the telephoto lens to get a better look." Nick straightened up. "Let's turn on the light so she doesn't miss any details," he began, then noticed Natalie staring at them, mouth agape. "Hi, Nat," he said cheerfully. "Sorry, I didn't realize the time. I'll be just a second." "What are you two doing?!" Natalie exclaimed. Lacroix turned and examined his visitor. "We are enjoying my present," he announced, a gleam of humor in his steely blue eyes. "As are my neighbors across the street, Mrs. Eldon and Mrs. Trombley." He gestured towards his balcony. In the meantime, Nick had flipped a light switch and resumed his position next to the curtain. "This is great," he said. "I bet you get at least three letters out of this!" Natalie couldn't take it any longer. "Let me see!" she demanded. Nick obligingly made room for her at the curtain. She peeked out carefully. The first thing she saw was a set of terracotta wind chimes clonking melodiously in the light breeze. So? At first glance they appeared to be clay cylinders. Then she looked more closely. No, not cylinders... They were penises. Terracotta phalluses swaying in the wind. "Pornographic wind chimes? You got Lacroix a set of pornographic wind chimes for his Conversion Day?" she blurted out. "Not this year. That was last year. This year I got him that." Nick pointed to a table positioned strategically under the balcony light. "And they're not pornographic, Nat, they're Pompeiian good luck wind chimes. Genuine ones. They're very collectible." Nat followed his pointing finger to this year's gift. "Oh. My. God." It was more terracotta, only this one was in the shape of a rectangular pillar, at the top of which was the head of a man. Halfway down the pillar was a very prominent male member in a very interested state of arousal. The statue was a good two and a half feet tall, and the prominent bit was definitely *not* to scale. "Oh my God," Nat said faintly. "It was very thoughtful of Nicholas. This herm looks very much like the one which graced my mortal villa in Pompeii," said Lacroix. "It was considered good luck to have one such figure at the door of one's abode." "So you put them on the balcony where everyone could enjoy them?" Natalie asked. "Only now and again, on special occasions," Lacroix said unctuously. "This is, of course, one of them, since it is my Conversion Day." Natalie peeked around the curtain again. Across the street, a mere one hundred feet or so, was another balcony at approximately the same height as Lacroix's. A pair of elderly women were standing on it, one of them with what appeared to be a thirty-five millimeter camera in her hands. They were staring fixedly at Lacroix's Pompeiian good luck art collection, expressions of distaste mixed with horrified fascination on their faces. "Your neighbors don't appear to appreciate your generosity," she observed. "Oh, they get all worked up and write indignant notes, but that's as far as it goes," Nick said with a look of mischief on his face. "I think they actually enjoy it, myself. I've noticed they spend a lot of time looking whenever he displays things out here." "No one makes them look at my balcony," Lacroix said with a certain amount of righteousness. "And I do change the exhibit frequently. Not all of it is of the same theme, of course. I have a number of antique bronzes and marbles, and two rather nice Calder mobiles." There was a small flurry of activity across the street. Natalie squinted. Mrs. Eldon was taping a handwritten cardboard sign to the edge of her balcony. "What does that say?" she asked Nick. Nick looked out. "Now, that's new," he said interestedly. "Look, Lacroix, they've posted a sign that says 'WICKED'." Lacroix snorted. "Strangely enough they never protest when I display my Rodin bronze nymph. She is," he added for Natalie's benefit, "completely naked. I detect a double standard." He shook his head sorrowfully. "Roman society was much more open-minded." Natalie put her hands on her hips and stared at the two vampires with narrowed eyes. "How many years between the two of you? Twenty-eight hundred or so?" she asked pointedly. "And you still act like teenage boys trying to shock the neighbors? Disgusting." She shook her head. "You should be ashamed of yourselves." "I consider it broadening their artistic horizons," Lacroix said mildly. Natalie snorted. "Right. You just like to see those ladies squirm. Admit it." "Perhaps," said Lacroix with an enigmatic smile. "And what's your excuse?" she asked Nick. "I'm all for broadening artistic horizons. Just like we did at the art gallery this evening," he said with a grin. "I give up," she said, throwing her hands in the air. "Can we go home now?" Natalie asked. "First, though, let's put your neighbors out of their misery." She nudged Nick out of the way and flipped off the balcony light. Thankfully the moon had already set and so the balcony was plunged into darkness. "There. Now both of you can enjoy your little gallery, but no one else -- mortal, that is -- can." "I guess the party is over for the evening, Lacroix," said Nick. "Yes, it appears so. I'll let you know if I receive any missives. Thank you for the present. I do like it very much." Nick inclined his head. "You're welcome, Lacroix. I'm glad you like it. Until next year, then." "Indeed. Good night, Doctor," Lacroix said. Natalie sighed. "Good night, Lacroix. Happy Conversion Day." As they rode down in the elevator, Natalie turned to Nick. "So what does he get you for *your* conversion day?" she demanded. "I mean, if *you* think *that's* a good gift?" She could swear Nick blushed. "Oh, Natalie, you don't want to know." And he refused to say anything else. FINIS ==================================== Plaudits, brickbats, and odd bits of Pompeiian statuary may be sent to: Nancy Kaminski nancykam@mediaone.net ==================================== ------------------------ Yahoo! Groups Sponsor ---------------------~--> Learn Trading Tips the Professional Traders Use! Free Newsletter from Optionetics.com http://us.click.yahoo.com/q1ufhB/ZR9CAA/ySSFAA/5qMolB/TM ---------------------------------------------------------------------~-> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/