Chapter 3

I sat in his apartment, sprawled on the couch, just waiting to see the look on his face when he entered. It was a dreary place, so unlike the one I'd pictured for him. After tales of exciting, death-defying adventures and my first memories of him at Byron's extravagant mansion, a tiny gray apartment was the last thing that came to mind.

The only thing which caught my attention was a tall red candle on the center of an otherwise empty coffee table in front of me. My eyes looked it over, the lengthy, awkward appearance, the trails of drops of wax from it's first burning cooled to the sides, the firm base securely resting in a delicate glass cup. I felt my eyes tear and closed them to remember the time I cherished more than any other in my heart.

* * * * *
Paris, France 1930
I lit the candle and blew out the match, letting its flame light my way out of bed and down the dark hall before I emergered into the living room. I froze to see Alexander already up and silently began to watch him. His muscles flexing, eyes straight ahead and focused, arms wielding his sword with beautiful majesty as if he were born with it in his hand. When he'd finished his exercises, he relaxed, breathing deeply. It was then that he noticed me. "Good morning, Grace. Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," I replied, not mentioning the awakening to the empty bed I was used to sharing with him. "Yourself?"

He shrugged. "I had another dream. I decided not to go back to sleep afterwards. There are more important things to be done."

"Like training."

He nodded. "I'm only twenty-two, Grace. Unlike you."

I smiled, walking to the sink and wetting a towel for him. "Well, since I've got so many years on you, perhaps I have enough to have learned not to laugh at you when you explain your dream?" I always tried to get him to tell me; not once had I been successful.

Alexander just eyed me and took the towel, patting himself down to cool off. "Not yet, Grace. I cannot tell you it... I just cannot."

I took his sword from him at the hilt and laid it down gently upon the couch. Wrapping my arms around him, I then put my cheek against his neck, feeling the warmth and dampness it had acquired from the workout. "I am here for you, Alex. Whenever you need me, alright? No matter if you're fifty or a thousand and fifty." It felt strange to hold him so, even having known him all his immortal life. He was bigger than I, a head higher in fact. And he always put up such a strong front that he was almost impossible to get close to; as his teacher, I was one of the select few in his short life to get to know him even as much as I did.

"Do you think I'll live that long, Grace?" he asked with a more worried voice than a curious one.

"I think you have the skill to. It's up to you to decide whether to use it or not."

He sighed, as he realized I knew more about his dreams than he would have liked me to. "Aye, perhaps that is true enough."

We broke apart as Alexander dressed and we left for a fine breakfast at a local establishment, letting the door swing shut loudly behind us on our way out.

* * * * *
The lock was set to motion and the doorknob swiveled; the door creaked open and I was once again looking into his eyes. They were so old, so knowing... and yet he knew nothing.

"Thought you'd be here," was the first thing he said, and I hated him for it. he grabbed himself a beer and sat down beside me on the couch I could see the desire in his eyes. The want. The need. The remembrance. "So you want to tell me the real reason you're here?"

I turned away from him as his eyes became softer, more sensitive. he showed it to so few people, and I'd never been able to resist it. It reminded me of Alex. Oh Alex. "No. I can't."

I felt his warm fingers on my chin, light as they turned my head back in his direction. He looked at me again. "It's been a long time, Darling."

I nodded. I couldn't resist. "Doc, do you know what it's like to loose a student?"

He nodded back. "Yes."

Close to tears again, I pushed him away. I rose from the couch and went to the candle, picking it up, cradling it gently in my arms. "Do you really? Do you know the guilt? The feeling... that you should have been there, done something... "

"Yes... yes I do." He stood behind me, wrapping his arms around me, as I began to cry. He took the candle from my hands, as his lips embraced mine. My gasps and sobs slowed; he held me tightly, guiding me back to the couch. Our clothes were shed, our differences laid aside, and for one night I didn't feel quite so alone any more.

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