Hi guys. I know this is different from my other chapters, but I wanted to experiment with someone else's perspective before I decided what to do with the present.

In case some of you don't get it...this is Hailey's grandmother's past with Luce, or at least a few snapshots of them. There is swearing because she just struck me as a 21st Century, computer aged punk chick with a bad mouth.

This may be the last time I use this perspective so...yeah. Tell me if you think it works.

Thanks to my reviewers by the way...encouragment is always nice :)

---

“You wanna know what I think? You wanna know why you’re a big scary dude in black? You wanna know why you freak me out? Because, in all honesty, I swear to God that you’re a vampire.” She says with conviction. “And don’t even try to deny it. I bet Luce isn’t even your real name. I bet you’re really Lestat or something. Fuckin Dracula.” She shakes her head and smiles. He smiles too, tilting his head to the side and grinning that grin he does when she’s said something amusing.

“Am I right, or am I right? Mr. Vampire.” She shoves him playfully and he allows himself to sway.

“Yes,” he says softly, “you’re actually right. Except my name is not Lestat. Or Dracula. Or Alucard. Or Zachary. Or David. Or -“

She holds up a hand and turns her head away from him. “Yeah, I get it, no identity crisis for you, Mr. Vampire. Mr. Stay-in-sunshine-and-not-explode-Vampire. Explain that one...you can’t.”

“I have yet to meet a vampire that would literally explode in sunlight.”

“Oh yeah?” she pulls on the golden chain around her neck and slides her thumb over the links. A tiny gold cross emerges from under her t-shirt and glitters in the light. “The power of Christ compels you, fucker.”

“Lower case letters don’t scare me.”

She laughs into the wind and punches him again. He doesn’t sway this time, but shoves her back gently. She stumbles and hit her back against the brick wall behind them.

“Mr. Vampire,” she sings softly, sliding down the wall to sit in the dirt. Luce follows suit. The sun rises from behind the building down the street.

--

She sits quietly on the porch swing. Luce is sitting next her, in that carefully composed way he sits, not quite touching her but close enough that she doesn’t need to lean far should she need a shoulder.

“I’m thinking ‘Lillian’.” She says. “It’s a lovely name, isn’t it? So poetic, like a song.” Luce says nothing. Instead, he digs his toe into the wood and leans the swing back, and let go, swinging them both gently.

“Are you gonna stick around?” she asks a few moments later, not catching his eye and clicking her tongue ring nervously against her teeth.

“If you wish me to. I don’t plan on leaving you alone anyway.”

“Good.” She concludes. She rubs her swollen stomach again. Inside, Lillian kicks herself awake.

--

“Listen...I’ve thought about this.” He said grimly, “and I’ve decided that I can’t do this any more. I can’t...share you.”

“You aren’t! Baby, please, I told you, I told you that he was an important person to me. He’s family. He’s not taking me away from you, he’s not -“

“Im sorry babe,” he says, “if you could just...just...” he trails off and scratches the back of his head. It was still morning and he had yet to change out of his boxers and t-shirt. She sat at the table, clicking her tongue ring and pleading with him.

“What? What do you want me to do? Tell him ‘hey, I know you’re my childhood friend but I have to not talk to you ever again because my boyfriend’s jealous’?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?? You JUST told me you don’t want to share!”

“Will you shut up? Just stop yelling okay? I don’t want him to hear.”

She throws up her hands.

“Don’t want him to know what? That you hate his guts? You think he hasn’t figured it out already? You’re a genuine asshole to him everyday! Why can’t you just accept that I love him like a brother and I can’t just never talk to him again?”

He stiffens and juts out an unshaven jaw.

“Well...it’s me or him.”

--

Lillian lays her tiny hands over his.

“It’s called red hands, okay? This is how you play, okay? You just...no turn them over...okay, you have to try and hit my hands, okay? If you hit them three times then its my turn to hit yours okay? You have to hit my hands, and be quick.” Luce nods. Lillian waits nervously. He twitches his fingers. She pulls her hands away and squeals.

“No fair. Let me try again.”

While they concentrate on their game, Morgan locks her self in the bedroom that she no longer shares with Brian and cries.