The Past, The Present and The Future

The two men strolled down the empty, dimly lit street, as a drunken she-elf and many more ladies who were twice as tipsy, hung out of the windows of Finnegan's to give them an exuberant send off.

"Behave yourselves, ya hear!?"

Simon cringed at the shout echoing after them, adjusting his hat with a huff.

"My stars, that woman! If she was even a smidge louder, I swear that she would wake the dead!"

Alabaster chuckled, finding the other man's sourness to be endearing. Especially when noting how the tips of his ears lit up tellingly at the princesses' unwanted brand of doting.

"Are you certain that Mira will be alright?"

"Quite. They may be a rowdy bunch, but there's nothing to fear. Mira's among friends. Mister Finnegan, especially, will see to it that she gets home no worse for wear."

"Mister Finnegan. Mira said that he cared for you, when you were younger."

"Mira has a big mouth."

"She also mentioned a Miss Adalene?"

The tailor grew quiet. The wind whistled through the streets, fluttering the fabric of their coats, as the bottom of their shoes touched down on the cobblestone below. The vampire's brow creased with tension. Had he overstepped? Crossed an invisible line that he wasn't aware of? Should he be apologizing? Before he could open his mouth, however, Simon beat him to the punch, answering in a soft, subdued tone.

"After my mother and sister... passed away, I had no one. I lived on the streets of Lenore, sleeping wherever I could find that was safe. I survived by doing many deplorable things I'm not proud of. Stealing, mostly."

"Oh, my dearest. I'm terribly sorry."

The tailor shook his head, as if it was all inconsequential. But, the glassy sheen building up in his eyes, glistening in the pale moon light, told a different story. How Alabaster's heart ached for Simon. Ached to hold him. Ached to ease the pain of the wounds that time never healed.

But, like so many other things in life, the man plowed right ahead. Whether Simon was unwilling or unable to stop and properly mourn the things he lost, Alabaster couldn't say.

"There were times that I earned my bread above board, however. I learned how to throw darts to win bets at the local taverns."

"Finnegan's was one of them, I assume?"

"Yes. That old barkeep allowed me to practice in his establishment before the shop opened. Perhaps he saw potential. I was surprisingly good at it from the onset. It just came naturally to me. But, it's such a crass, commoner's form of entertainment. Needless to say, I don't throw darts, anymore."

"No, you merely ungraded to throwing hatpins, instead."

The mood was lightened by the vampire's quip, causing an exchanged a look to end in a smile.

"If I may ask, what happened next?"

"I never took you for a man possessed of such a curious nature, vampire."

"And I never took you for a man who lived so many lifetimes in one. You are very interesting, Simon Hart. I wish to know you."

A hush settled over the tailor, his cheeks darkening at the distinctive drop in timbre. The double meaning of that phrase wasn't lost on him; especially when he found himself met with a quirk of an eyebrow and a barely there smirk lingering on those plush lips. The gentleman shot him a half-hearted glare.

"Innuendos? Really? Perhaps it's my turn to ask where the well-mannered nobleman intent on courting me has gone."

"He's still very much here, Simon. But, perhaps a good amount of his sense has been lost to the sight of you in the moonlight."

Alabaster was being exceptionally bold that evening. The tailor shouldn't have spared even an inch of tolerance for such brazen behavior. But, what kind of gentleman would he be, if he showed such blatant hypocrisy?

It was Simon, after all, who offered up a love confession in the middle of a crowded room. He had even taken Alabaster out onto the floor to dance, spinning wildly together in a rapturous embrace. He dipped him low, using gravity as an excuse to hold onto the other man so tightly that he could feel those powerful muscles pulled taunt beneath his fine clothes; their hearts pounded against each other's chests, racing to the finish line. The mere thought of it caused the hue on the tailor's cheeks to grow all the richer, until it blossomed a red reminiscent of blood.

The gentleman's behavior toward the nobleman that night was nothing short of scandalous. More than that, it was shockingly different from their normal routine; a true paradigm shift in their bond. But, even if the mold between them was breaking, there was still a natural order to things. So, Simon pinched his face in the crossest look he could muster. Though, he was certain the effect was lost, as he fought back a smirk of his own.

"If you are quite done being cheeky, Lord Stone-"

"Oh, do pardon me, Mister Hart. So rude of me. Forgive me."

"Very well, I will graciously pardon you."

"Oh, please do, by all means."

With a turn of their heels, the men stopped in the street to face each other. As their eyes met, both huffed out a laugh, unable to keep a straight face.

"Such foolishness," Simon muttered with a shake of his head and a small smile.

"Yes. I suppose it is. But, what's a little foolishness between two men in love?"

Simon froze. Alabaster shook his head, before bringing one of his sweetheart's hand to his lips, kissing it with all of the affection in the world. While it was true that the tailor had made the first official move to solidify their relationship, the vampire understood that it would take time for the other man to process everything.

The experience of losing his mother and sister at a young age had covered the tailor's soul with an untold amount of scars. The Crystal Vampire couldn't magic them away, like he did with everything else. But, he was determined to spend the rest of his life taking the pain out of them, one loving act at a time. He would give and give and give, as much as Simon would let him, until comfort was all he knew. But, as he saw those beautiful emerald eyes shifting around wildly, like a rabbit looking for some kind of escape, Alabaster let the hand slip from his grasp; it was best not to overwhelm him, after all.

"Please continue with the riveting story of your life, my dearest one."

Coming back to himself, Simon lifted his shaking, love covered hand to his mouth, clearing his throat, as he calmed himself.

"Yes, well... Where was I? Ah, that's right. Mister Finnegan was on one of his usual market runs. I had regrettably lost the last three dart bets to the ruffian, Ace Dial."

Elegant shoes touched down on the road once again, carving a path that was eagerly followed.

"Without an Aster to my name, I resorted to petty thievery. But, before I could spirit away an apple into my cloak, Harold's hand seized my wrist. I fought him, of course, but very few are a match for that man NOW, let alone when he was in his prime; his grip was like an iron vise!"

"He took you in, then?"

"Yes. He set up a cot for me in the backroom. All that was required of me was that I helped with the upkeep of his establishment. One day, when I was straightening out his inventory, my shirt caught on a nail and ripped clean off. That's when he really took time to look over my appearance. 'You need new clothes, son. You're not a beggar or a thief,' he told me. And that's when Mister Finnegan took me to a seamstress down the lane, a Miss Adalene Owlfain."

"Owlfain? That's a unique family name. I've never heard it before."

"Nor will you hear it again. Miss Adalene, for whatever reason, gave it to herself. She was one of the most cantankerous women I've ever met. A bad-tempered madam of the highest degree. Especially when her student made a mistake. But, her clothes, Alabaster, her clothes!"

The tailor sighed in blissful remembrance, as his mind went back to that tiny shop and the little, old lady who called it home.

"They were beautiful."

"So are yours, love."

"Oh, posh," the tailor huffed softly, "They are nothing compared to hers. And her sense of fashion was unparalleled! I wish I had something of hers to show- Oh!"

Simon stopped, before holding out one of his coat's lapels. Something golden glittered in the moonlight. Upon closer inspection, Alabaster realized that the accessory was in the shape of an owl. It's eyes were shimmering sapphires, while in the center, a diamond rode proudly.

"May I?"

Simon nodded, letting Alabaster run a reverent finger down the glittering bauble, appreciating the attention to detail in every, single feather on those out stretched wings.

"She designed this?"

"Yes. This is the last piece of her that I have left, really. Her most treasured possession."

"I'm sure that's not quite true, is it?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

Alabaster smiled warmly.

"It's obvious that she taught you well. When she looked at you, your Miss Owlfain saw a worthy person to pass her skills to. Her trinket to. Her dreams to."

Alabaster took the other man's hands in his own. Simon blushed as those silky fingers found the flaws in his flesh. From the small, barely there scars of a clumsy scissor slip, down those stubborn, hard-earned callouses that dared to linger on the hands of a gentleman.

"It's YOU, Simon. I believe that while this pin is magnificent, that you were her most treasured thing; her dear apprentice."

Sharp eyes, coarsened by the harshness of life, softened with a glimmer of sentiment.

"She... never said anything like that to me. Miss Adalene wasn't much one for talk. But, she did teach me everything I know about my craft. And she gave me everything she had when she left this world."

Simon closed his eyes, his throat threatening to choke him up.

"She... wished me well and wanted to insure that I succeeded in life. That was always more than enough."

Alabaster gave a reassuring squeeze, only for it to be returned in thanks. Suddenly, the vampire realized where Simon got it from; the other man communicated so much without a single word. His expressions were all meaningful, not one wasted. If his dear tailor's teacher was a woman of few words, it meant that the love of his life took after her in more ways than just his talent.

"I do wish I could have met her."

The tailor gave a strained laugh.

"She was quite sour and wouldn't have liked you much at all. Miss Adalene would have fancied you a scoundrel. By the stars, why would you ever want to meet someone like that?"

"Because I wished to thank her for having a hand in shaping the man I love."

Simon rolled his eyes, folding his arms neatly behind his back as he took a step back.

"You might not be a scoundrel, but you are certainly a hopeless romantic, Alabaster Stone."

Yet, as he spotted the perfect rooftop, sparking a plan, he realized that he might be the pot calling the kettle black.

"Alabaster, can you get us up there?"

The Crystal Vampire stepped forward as the tailor pointed in the distance, only for that extended finger to give an accusatory poke to his chest.

"WITHOUT using your powers."

The vampire couldn't help, but to give long-suffering sigh, though it wasn't without its smile.

"I don't need them for everything, you know. I may not be as strong as Malakai, but I'm more than capable of carrying you up to a mere rooftop. Or have you forgotten the night when I whisked you away from the castle in my arms?"

Simon cleared his throat, once again, as that image was conjured to mind.

'Infuriating devil.'

"No, I haven't forgotten. Shall we?"

Without warning, Alabaster scooped up his quarry, giving him a saucy smirk at the yelp he managed to pull from him, before taking to the air. The slighter man clung tightly, as they bounded across the rooftops, toward a summit closer to the sky. The stars sparkled like drops of silver, as the moon glittered in its golden splendor overhead.

Simon's mind was drawn back to earlier that evening, as he was set on his feet. The tailor had wanted nothing more than to give Alabaster something better than the squalor of his past. Something beautiful, that could become theirs for all time.

'Well,' the gentleman thought, as he stood with his love, hand in hand, against the backdrop of what could only be called Heaven, 'Somehow, I think I've managed to accomplish just that.'