Disclaimer: Luc is all mine. I like him. I'm keeping him. Everyone else is Joss's, though I would like to keep them because I like them too.

Author's Note: this is essentially a sequel to 'Les Chroniques Parisiennes' (which everyone is cordially invited to read and give me feedback on!) If you haven't read that and want to, go away NOW! Read no further, for spoilers for that lie ahead. This fic will span the centuries and will, I promise, lead to LA. Where it is very possible (Imzadi?) that Luc will run into a certain lawyer. Enjoy.





So … brief plot summary for 'Les Chroniques Parisiennes':

It is 1838. Luc Tarpeau, a young Breton from Morbihan, comes to Paris in search of a job and lands an interview with a certain young Irishman – only it's not a man, it's Angelus. Taken by Luc's lack of fear, he is promptly hired by the vampire and spends several months working for him before everything falls apart. Caught in the act of betrayal, Luc dies. Or does he?



The Breton – prologue: Paris, 1838

"You're sure you don't want to come?" Angelus leaned out of the carriage. "My dear Luc, you'll regret it. We can show you the best of all London."

"Maybe in a while." Luc stood on the steps of the house. "I'll write, I promise. I swear."

"You'd better do. You're of the Order of Aurelius, Luc, and don't forget it."

Luc bowed towards Darla. "I won't."

"Good hunting," Angelus said, as Darla tapped the side of the carriage and the coachman roused the horses into a steady walk.

Luc raised a hand in farewell, and watched as the carriage left the gates and disappeared into the night.

He turned, and closed the door behind him. The house was empty and quiet. Most of the furniture had already been sold, the kitchen gutted, the piano carted off. Luc wandered through the bare library, running an idle finger along the dusty shelves, and then started up the carpeted stairs.

At the door to Angelus' room, he paused, and them pushed it open and went in. Here, the four-poster bed still stood, its hangings and covers intact, and for a moment Luc stood and inhaled the scent of his sire. A smile crossed his face as he remembered waking up for the first time in the large bed, his senses heightened, his hunger raw and dominant, Angelus stretched out next to him with that lopsided smile on his beautiful features.

Luc crossed the room, and closed the heavy curtains, and with a small sigh laid himself down on the bed for one last day, before leaving the house forever.