The night was still young, just past midnight when Louis returned home. Lestat had insisted on hunting alone that night, claiming he had an important errand to run that Louis wouldn’t want to be a part of. Louis rolled his eyes thinking about Lestat’s attempts to come up with an excuse. As if he needed one. They’ve long come to an understanding that sometimes their ideas and tastes just differed and accepted and tolerated it.

Louis pulled the door closed after himself and was immediately attacked from behind. Strong arms wrapped around his body and pinned his arms to his sides. His preternatural instincts told him to fight back, but the body pressing against his own was all too familiar, and so his muscles tensed but relaxed immediately.

“Close your eyes, mon cher, I have a surprise for you”, he heard Lestat’s voice whisper into his ear as his eyes were covered by Lestat’s hands.

“I can’t even see anything with your hands…” Louis protested.

“Do it, mon cher. Pour moi. Please.” Lestat’s breathe tickled his earlobe.

Louis sighed and did as he was told. He was exhausted. Not in a human way, of course, just wary of the world, and had been looking forward to a quiet remainder of the night, maybe in front of a fire and a good book in his hands, snuggled up in his new favourite cardigan, waiting for Lestat to return from whatever business he had. Which apparently he had finished early.

Lestat was now pushing him gently towards the back of the house, firmly keeping his hands over Louis’ eyes.

“You know I’m a vampire and don’t actually need my eyesight. I can still hear and smell things.”

Lestat snorted. “Ahh… I seem to remember I was present when you were ‘born to darkness’ as we call it. And what a beautiful and memorable night it was. In a church. In front of the altar.”

“Yes, very romantic. With the blood and brains of two dead priests all over the floor and the pews on fire…” Louis replied deadpan.

“Oh hush now… You remember it as fondly as I do. You just don’t like to admit it.” Louis could feel Lestat caressing his neck with small kisses. He inhaled to rebut Lestat’s statement, but the memory of Lestat declaring his love for him that night never ceased to put a smile on his face, so maybe he was right after all. And also the sensation of Lestat’s lips against his skin was too distracting to argue about things long past.

As they approached the backroom, Lestat’s body was almost vibrating with anticipation of presenting the “surprise” he had prepared for Louis while a feeling of apprehension took over the latter. Lestat usually meant well, but his “surprises” were often… not to Louis’ taste. Finally, Lestat manoeuvred him through a door where a familiar scent hit Louis’ nostrils. Louis stopped dead in his tracks.

“Lestat, what…” he began but was interrupted before he could continue.

“Hush, mon cœur… sit down here.” Louis felt himself being urged into soft cushions. “Promise to keep your eyes closed. I need to get… something.”

Louis heaved a deep sigh but nodded in agreement. There was no way of diverting Lestat’s plans once he had set his mind on something, so he might as well get on with it.

Lestat eventually removed his hands from Louis’ eyes and let them softly run along Louis’ arms. His thumbs traced Louis’ wrists, taking Louis’ hands into his own and lifting them to his face. Louis could feel Lestat’s smooth skin and soft lips brushing gently across his palms before his hands were firmly placed on his lap.

Louis dutifully kept his eyes closed while he could hear Lestat moving about the room. Towards the source of the scent and the faint noise that Louis had identified as the hammering of a very small heart.

Louis shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He really didn’t like where this was going.

“Lestat, please…”

After some rustling noises, he could hear Lestat’s footsteps coming back to him, and then felt something warm and soft placed into his hands and something furry swishing back and forth across his fingers.

“Open your eyes, mon cher.” Lestat’s voice was hushed and Louis thought he could hear a trace of nervousness which was quite the change for his usually self-assured and cocky lover.

Louis opened his eyes as commanded and looked into a pair of impossibly large yellow eyes framed by a furry face and large bat-like ears. A tiny creature gazed back up at him and after only a moment’s hesitation, started to tread its furry paws into Louis’ palm and emitted a noise that would put any old diesel engine to shame.

“What is this, Lestat?” Louis’ voice couldn’t hide his irritation.

“Well, mon cher, this is a cat.”

“Yes, I can see that, Lestat!” Louis was really starting to get annoyed now. And anxious. “What is it supposed to be? A snack?”

With a definitive “Non!” the little creature was snatched away from him and dangled from Lestat’s hands at arms’ length, all limbs and thick paws flailing in the air.

The kitten obviously disliked being mishandled in this fashion and after the initial shock, let out a hiss and bared a pair of tiny fangs at its captor who instinctively snarled back at the animal with his own vampiric teeth visible.

Louis couldn’t help but giggle at this display of ferocity, especially as the cat didn’t seem too impressed by Lestat’s response and tried to claw him with its paws. Unsuccessfully. With an annoyed expression, Lestat dumped the cat back in Louis’ lap, where it seemed to feel right at home. It looked around, then started to trudge around in a circle, emitting a rumbling noise of contentment at a volume that seemed impossible for such a small being. After a few rounds, it curled up in Louis’ lap and immediately started to lick its fur.

Louis observed this with wonder and curiosity. This cat apparently had no sense of self-preservation at all. There it was, all comfortable and occupied with the task of making its very shiny grey fur even shinier, in the presence of not one but two deadly predators who could end its young life in a split second. But that didn’t seem to bother it at all. On the contrary, judging by its purring.

Lestat knelt down beside Louis and joined Louis’ inspection of his surprise gift. Cautiously he put a finger out to stroke the soft grey fur behind the cat’s ears. The cat leaned into the touch, hopped up and turned around trying to catch Lestat’s finger with its front paws. Lestat laughed softly and allowed the kitten to grab his finger, then slowly lifted his hand with the cat clinging to his index finger.

“What do you think, mon cher? Can we keep the little fiend?” Lestat asked smiling at his lover.

Louis hesitated.

“Why do you want to have a cat? It sounds like a terrible idea. You know…”

Lestat shrugged, watching the cat trying to push against his forearm with its hind legs. “We’re getting old, Louis,” he sighed. “I heard that’s what old people do. They get cats, start knitting and talk to themselves. And I’m not ready to pick up… knitting… yet.”

His eyes twinkled at Louis who shook his head. The idea of Lestat doing any kind of needlework was ridiculous.

“I’ve never heard you refer to yourself as old before. You’re not even 300. What has brought this on?” Louis watched as the kitten started snapping and chewing on Lestat’s thumb.

“Careful!” he exclaimed. “Don’t let it bite you and draw your blood!”

Lestat shook his head. “No, don’t worry. His teeth aren’t strong enough for that.” Nevertheless he untangled the kitten from his hand and put it back on Louis’ lap.

“His?” Louis asked.

“Well, he’s certainly ballsy enough to be a boy. Aren’t you, little fiend?” Lestat started tickling the little furball, which promptly rolled over on its back to give Lestat better access to its belly.

“Next thing you’re telling me you’ve already come up with a name…” Louis enquired.

“As a matter of fact… I have. I think he looks like his name is… Barney.”

Louis still hesitated. He’d fed well that night, so controlling the urge to snatch up the cat and turn it into a light midnight snack had been easy. It was still there, like a dull itching at the back of his throat. Yet it was manageable. But what if one night, they both wouldn’t be as lucky?

Louis watched as Lestat played with the kitten, which was chasing Lestat’s hand like a maniac, and heard Lestat chuckling with delight. Lestat loved animals. Always had. His mastiff dogs and horse, purchased by his mother Gabrielle, were his most cherished possessions as a young, mortal man, and the loss of them had sent him into a deep depression.

Louis hadn’t taken Lestat for a cat lover, but here they were. Lestat and the grey tabby cat, whose fur was strangely almost the colour of Lestat’s eyes, playing and snarling at each other like the little fiends they both were. Louis closed his eyes and inhaled. Slowly and guarded. Could he do it?

The cat’s scent tickled his nostrils and the hunger for its blood became stronger. But then there was something else. Lestat’s hands on his neck and in his hair, Lestat’s lips on his, kissing him gently.

Damn you, Lestat…

Louis sighed and felt his tense muscles relax. As he leaned into the kiss, he was only marginally aware of a bunch of tiny claws clumsily making their way up his sleeve. Lestat wrapped his arm around Louis’ waist and pulled him closer to his body, deepening the kiss. Then they both felt a tiny but surprisingly hard head butt against their chins. They broke the kiss and stared at the cat, which was now balancing on Louis’ shoulder, looking at them with inquisitive eyes.

The sight made them burst out laughing simultaneously, and Lestat reached out for the kitten to caress its head. Louis smiled. He could do it. He could at least try. For Lestat. And for Barney.

---

Years later, Lestat would admit that little Barney had been left in a cardboard box outside the studio where he was rehearsing with his band. As a joke or an offering, they couldn’t tell. But after seeing Alex, Larry and Tough Cookie cooing over the little creature, Lestat had not been able to bring himself to abandon the tiny furball – or kill it – and had decided to bring it home to Louis.

He claimed that he’d always known Barney would be quite safe in their home, but Louis wished he could have shared Lestat’s confidence. As it turned out, they both weren’t wrong.