Visions of Sugarplums (Elizabeth) - Darius and Crew

She turned her head to kiss his palm.

"That is all I ask."

He smiled at the kiss against his palm. It was sweet, it really was. He ran a thumb over her bottom lip. He was close enough to kiss her, but at the moment, he didn't. He was looking into her eyes.

"You have my word. It will be hard for you, to come to me. I realize that."

She nodded.

"I thought my future was with Chet. With the Malkavians. Now I see I am meant for darker things. Because it is either that, or death."

He laughed softly.

"But Elizabeth. I would not kill you."

He probably wouldn't.

She shook her head.

"Perhaps you would not. But that is the path that is shown to me at this time. The fork in this road."

He smiled and brushed a gentle fingertip over her cheek.

"And you would choose life."

She nodded.

"Every time. I would welcome life. And I do not think that you and I would be incompatible."

He smiled at that.

"I warn you. I will probably hurt you."

She chuckled.

"I can take the emotional, and the physical is just fun."

He laughed softly.

"I meant physical. For the emotional, I try not to. Overmuch."

She nodded.

"You will have to work hard to find a physical pain I do not enjoy."

He laughed at that.

"Oh, that almost sounds like a challenge, Elizabeth."

She shook her head.

"Not a challenge."

She turned away from him, to look into the bedroom again. Or maybe, just to not look at him while she asked this question.

"When would you like me to gather my things?"

He reached out, putting both hands on her shoulders. He wasn't forcing her to turn around -- like he said, he understood how hard it would be.

"As soon as you can, Elizabeth."

She nodded.

"May I stay here until dawn? I do not want to risk losing my nerve, and speaking to him, I will lose everything."

He smiled and ran a hand through her hair.

"Yes, Elizabeth. Of course you may."

She leaned back into him.

"Thank you."

He drew her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. He was gentle with her, yet, somehow... still possessive.

"That collar you are wearing. Chet's?"

She nodded.

"Yes. I will leave it and the wrist restraints with him."

He shook his head.

"No. You will keep it. The collar, at least. The wrist restraints are for you to decide what to do with. But you care for Chet. I am not so cruel to tell you that you should forget what the two of you shared. So you will keep your collar and we will put it in a very special box. So that you may remember him always."

She shuddered with a repressed sob and nodded.

"You are kind."

He lifted his hand and slipped it into her hair. He was caressing her, really, though his grip was firm. Possessive.

"Lift your hands, Elizabeth. Take it off. Show me that you mean it."

She lifted her hands, gripping the collar around her throat. They stayed there for a long minute, simply holding it. Then, with a deep, painful breath, she opened the clasp, pulling it from her neck.

He held out a hand for it, the hand not tangled in her hair. Gently, he leaned close to her, brushing a kiss across the now-bare flesh of her throat.

"Good girl," he whispered. He was both cruel and kind at the moment, the press of his lips against her enough to tell her that he had, in fact, let his fangs descend. "You would like me to taste you?" he asked just as softly. Because he was curious as to her answer.

Tears were streaming down her face, but she placed it in his hand. Her hands then dropped to her sides, limp and servile, and she whimpered.

"Yes, please."