Finding Sam - Chapter 6 (PG-13)

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Penina Spinka
Freelance freshie
Posts: 226
Joined: Sat Jan 24, 2009 10:10 pm
Location: Sun City Arizona, USA

Finding Sam - Chapter 6 (PG-13)

Post by Penina Spinka »

If anyone is still interested in Sam and his adventures, this is the next chapter of how Francis first found Sam in this lifetime. He doesn't tell Sam that they were twin brothers until the first chapter of New Day. If there is a following for Sam here, I'll post New Day next. I planned on only 4 chapters for Finding Sam, but it grew to seven with an added short that belongs with it. Obviously, this is Moonlight fan fiction, so the usual disclaimers apply. If you comment, it would make me very happy. - Penina

Finding Sam – Chapter 5

Penina Spinka


Francis helped Sam to his feet, glad to see no drops of blood spotted the new gray rug. Sam stumbled a little, swaying. Francis frowned. “Your surge of feeling must have ebbed somewhat by now,” he said. “Can you tell if you feel light-headed? I’m afraid you were so tempting, I might have taken a little too much.”

Sam held out a hand to balance himself on the edge of the kitchen counter. “I’ll be fine,” he insisted.

“But you’re not fine right now.” Since he couldn’t disagree, Sam lowered his head, but immediately looked up again. The movement had made him dizzy.

“Do you trust me?” Francis asked.

“After what we just did? I should think so,” Sam admitted. “It’s not every day I have an intense interaction with a … a blood drinker. Why do you want to know if I trust you?”

“Because I want to return a little of what you just gave me. It will make you feel better and it won’t turn you into what I am.” Sam stared at Francis. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“How did you know what I was just thinking? You said you don’t hear thoughts.”

“I usually don’t. I forgot to mention that sometimes, when I drink from someone, I hear my donor’s thoughts. It won’t last long. If you were home, I’d give you a glass of apple juice and tuck you into bed. If you still want to, we planned to visit the agent and the bank, and to a piano store. Will you take a little of your blood back? It’s mine now, so it will strengthen you. You’d have to be a lot closer to death for it to make any permanent change.” He waited while Sam thought about it.

“What would happen if I was? Would I start growing fangs?” He giggled. “Sorry.” That must have been crude and rude. He certainly was light-headed. “Well, I guess if I trusted you this far, I’m not going to stop now. Sure. How are we going to do this?”

“Come to me.” Sam walked until they stood a foot apart. “I’ll bite my arm and you’ll drink. My wound will heal in a moment, but you’ll get enough to revive you. Are you ready?” Sam nodded. Francis lifted his arm to his mouth, bit down, and extended his arm to Sam, his deep crimson blood pooling above the wound. “Drink.”

Sam held onto Francis to steady himself before he put his mouth to the wound. He marveled at the taste of it. The blood was strong, like whiskey is to wine, not the same as what he had tasted from his own wound the previous night. As his mouth filled, he swallowed; thinking that the blood Francis was giving him had been his ten minutes earlier. Now, there was something paranormal about it. He shifted his eyes. Francis had closed his eyes and his face wore an expression of pure delight. If he was feeling a tenth the pleasure he’d given to Sam, it was plenty. When there was no more blood, Sam pulled back, swallowing the last of it. “Did I take enough?”

Francis took a deep breath and exhaled, returning from wherever he had been when Sam’s mouth was on his wound. “How do you feel now?” he asked.

Sam spun around in a Mohawk dance step, arms out. “I’m not dizzy any more. I feel like I could jump to the roof of this building, like I could fly. Don’t worry; I’m not going to try it.” He looked though the window at the blue sky, sparkling with sunlight, washed clean by yesterday’s rain. “The sky is bluer. I hear birds chirping in the trees eleven stories down. I can hear my own heart beat, but I can’t hear yours. Why?”

“You know why,” Francis reminded him. “You had enough. I’m exerting no mystic power or pressure on you. Living with me has to be a decision you come to yourself. I know what you said before, that you were ready, but we had just been connected by the pleasure my nature gives to a willing partner. Be objective now. We will own this apartment together. I’ll stay with you when I visit New York, but I won’t own you as some blood drinkers own some humans. You will make all your own decisions, whether for your career or business or love. All I ask is that you allow me to be your friend. Are you still ready to sign the contract on this apartment?”

“What I said before holds. Let’s go down to the agent’s office.” Sam pulled on his shirt and put his arms through the sleeves of his winter coat. He loosened his hair so it covered his neck before they walked out of the condo to the elevator.

They were soon in the car again, on their way to the SoHo District and its Bank of Romania. The BMW had stopped at a red light, when Francis turned to Sam. “What was that talk about a gig when I first came to your apartment? What did your roommate mean about me needing a drummer?”

“I didn’t think fast enough. Jeremy asked me what you wanted with me – an important foreign diplomat with a lowly drummer. I said the first thing that popped into my head. I’m glad you knew what a ‘gig’ is.”

Francis stepped on the clutch and shifted into first gear when the light changed, then stepped on the gas. He gave Sam a quick smile before he turned his eyes to the traffic. “You’re not a lowly drummer. You’re probably the best in New York at the present time, and that’s not all you are. If anyone asks you again what I want with you, you can tell them we’re friends. If they don’t know why friends want to spend time together, I feel sorry for them.”
Read Sam stories by Penina My index: http://www.moonlightaholics.com/viewforum.php?f=560
Penina Spinka
Freelance freshie
Posts: 226
Joined: Sat Jan 24, 2009 10:10 pm
Location: Sun City Arizona, USA

Re: Finding Sam - The Real Chapter 6

Post by Penina Spinka »

The last chapter was #5. Here's the real chapter 6 of FINDING SAM. For those who read THE BEAT, this is the story of how Francis found Sam nearly 2 years earlier. The reader might know by now, or was told in the beginning of FINDING SAM, that Sam and Francis were identical twin brothers in their first lives 4000+ years ago, but Sam hasn't found out yet. He will be told in the beginning of NEW DAY. If Francis had not befriended Sam first, Sam would not have been able to relate to Mick in the way he did in THE BEAT. Confused yet? I hope you will read and comment.
Penina

Finding Sam – Chapter 6

Penina Keen Spinka


“You gave me an idea,” Francis said as they walked into the piano store.

“I did?”

“Well, talking about a gig and your roommate’s question gave me the idea. Let me mull this over for a while before I tell you. For now, let’s see about these pianos.”

The piano was not Sam’s instrument of choice, although he could pick out tunes. They were percussion after all. He found one that seemed promising and played the first few lines of Fascination, just the keys – no chords – to see if it was in tune before the salesman walked over to join them.

“Are you the player?” he asked.

“No. Not me.”

Francis sat on the bench, flexed his fingers, and played the first few minutes of Franz Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody. He played it perfectly from memory. Both the salesman and Sam stared at his fingers moving decisively and swiftly over the keyboard. When Francis was satisfied with the tone of the instrument, he stood up. “Let’s see what else you have,” he said.

“You’re good,” Sam and the salesman said in unison. “Do you play with an orchestra?” the salesman asked.

“Not recently,” Francis replied. Sam felt rather than saw his wink. They tried a few more pianos, and settled on a baby grand in natural cherry wood. They did not haggle over the price. “This has a good sound,” Francis said. “May I assume these are showroom models? You’ll send a tuner when the new one is delivered, won’t you?”

“Of course, Sir. Where will it go and when would you like it delivered?”

He answered the question. “I’ll give you half now.” He wrote out the check and gave the required information. “Shall we arrange delivery for second of November?” He looked to Sam who nodded. “My associate will give you a check for the remainder once it is in his apartment and he’s satisfied with the sound. Is that satisfactory?”

“Actually, Sir, it’s our policy to have full remittance before delivery.”

“I see,” Francis said and took back his check. “I know of another piano store. Shall we go, Sam? ” They were on the way out when the salesman called them back. A ten thousand dollar check did not come into his hands every day.

It was dark now and merchant stores were closing for the night. Streetlights obliterated all but the greater stars. The parking garages’ day tenants were making room for dinner and art event crowds. The SoHo District was famous for both. “Where shall I take you for dinner, Sam?” Francis asked.

Sam shrugged. He didn’t come into SoHo for dinner often. “This feels too much like a date. We’re supposed to be friends and that’s supposed to mean equals. I’d like to treat you to dinner, but you’re not going to eat.”

Francis touched Sam’s arm with affection. “We are friends, first and foremost. You treated last time, at the apartment. It’s my turn. I know where we can go if you don’t have a preference. Some of the staff at the embassy told me about the Mock Turtle Restaurant in this neighborhood. Do you like beef and seafood? They say the soups are good too.”

Sam shook his head, half smiling, half annoyed. “There’s no winning with you, is there?”

Francis gave him a reminiscent grin. “You used to beat me at chess quite regularly, Song Li. Of course, you were older then.” The name actually sounded familiar to Sam. How many more names did Francis know him under?

They were waiting for Sam’s order at the Mock Turtle when Francis returned to his earlier thought. “How talented are your roommates and what do they play?”

Sam gave Francis a hard look, wondering where he was going with this. “Well, Randy plays the keyboard, Jeremy plays back-up guitar, but he’s good. Jason plays clarinet and sax. He also knows flute. We’re all in our first year in different bands – third string, but we could be good if we had the chance to prove it. Why are you asking? You always have a reason. Tell me that idea you were mulling over.”

“I forgot there are three more besides you living there. This might prove to be a good thing for them too if they can follow your lead. You don’t want them jealous of your success and your move. When you said you didn’t want to make enemies, you were talking about your current leader, but that must have included your roommates. Here is my idea. I want to hire you and them for a private party at the embassy, as the entertainment for my going-away party. We have a hall. I believe there will be about 40 people in attendance, but I’ll let you know after I make the arrangements.”

Sam looked down and bit his lip. “You’re leaving already. We just found each other.”

Francis could not speak for a moment. “You really do believe in me and what I told you,” he said to explain his silence. “It was too easy to doubt. Some people might have taken me up on my offer just for a new place to live and a bank account, but you wouldn’t do that.” He exhaled. “As for my leaving, look forward to my return. The time will go by fast and I’ll see how far you’ve come in six months. In the meantime, we’ll write and call. You have my email address. You do have a computer, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Another thing for you to buy. You’re going to be busy. My idea is this. I’m hosting a high tea for staff and diplomats. If you can put on a show for us, I’ll pay you for your time, both you and your group. There are a few extra people I’d like to hear you play. You would have to choose and arrange your music. I’d like you to get your friends ready and rehearsed. If you’re good enough – you can show someone in particular what you can do as bandleader and arranger. We have a standard set of drums, but bring your water drum so you can do some Mohawk music. I’m sure this person has heard you play before, but she never heard you where you had the chance to stand out. How does 4 o’clock the day after tomorrow sound?”

Sam’s eyes opened wider. “Can you really get her to come?”

Francis touched his lapels with both thumbs. “Diplomat. Remember? Well, I think so. I’ll work on it. Let me know about your roommates. If they have excuses, you and I will do a duet on keyboard and drums. We’ll do both national anthems first – I’ll teach you ours. Then some Gershwin would be appropriate since we’re in New York City. Rhapsody in Blue is popular everywhere. We can practice it tomorrow after I take you to lunch, and you can back me up on some of Romania’s pop music. I want your drumming to be heard to its best advantage.

“I’ll ask my roommates later, tell them who’s going to be there, and call you in the morning. We know each other’s sounds. Let me run this by them and see what they think. I still won’t leave Johnny until our contract runs out. There’s the matter of integrity.”

“I value that,” Francis said. “Your sense of justice is as strong as ever. You were a wonderful judge once - completely incorruptible. No one could bribe you. It irked a few people, but I found it admirable.”

“Weren’t you trying to bribe me when you first mentioned leaving him, back in the park when I thought you were a demon?” Sam lifted his chin.

Francis gave him a slow smile. “I was still trying to prove to myself that I really found you.”

“But, you’re sure now?” Sam asked.

“Oh yes.” Francis didn’t say the rest, but Sam could tell by his expression. The proof was in the blood.
Read Sam stories by Penina My index: http://www.moonlightaholics.com/viewforum.php?f=560
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