How Francis Met Sam - Part 2 (PG-13)

[Penina Spinka]

Here's the second half of how Francis met Sam in 2006. Francis has to be careful how much he says to Sam at first. Don't forget that Sam can read minds. Please be good enough to comment if you read this. Tell me if you want more Mick/Sam/Francis story. There's even a couple with Josef. Thank you for looking. Penina

Finding Sam – Chapter 2

Penina Spinka


“Washington Square?” Sam asked as the huge stone arch came into sight. “I know you haven’t been in New York before, and this is a landmark. Maybe parks in Bucharest are safe in the middle of the night, but it’s dangerous to walk into a park here at night. Drug violence isn’t all of it. People are homeless. They’ll slit your throat for a few bucks. Why do you want to go there?”

“We need a place where we can talk privately. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He continued to walk them across the street.

The vampire’s hand was on Sam’s arm. Sam gave a tentative tug and found that he couldn’t loosen Francis’s grip. “How do I know you won’t hurt me?”

“I do diplomatic work for my country at the United Nations. Why would I hurt a drummer from a band at the Village Vanguard? There would be no benefit. Even a U.N. pass doesn’t allow me to molest United States citizens.”

“What about Canadians?” Sam asked. They walked under the arch and down the path to the middle of the small park. Skeletal trees increased the darkness.

“Even Canadians. Besides, I would never harm you. I admire your skill on the drums. Do you know what a patron is?” He faced Sam while he waited for his reply. In the faint drizzle, by the light of the overhead street lamp several benches down, Francis’s face looked gray. He had thrown his coat over his shoulders, reminding Sam of something, he wasn’t sure what.

“A patron? Like the Italian artists in the renaissance? It’s an old fashioned word for someone who supports you while you paint or whatever while you're trying to make your name. It’s someone who gets a piece of the action if you succeed. It’s like an agent, only better.”

Francis smiled. Sam stood some inches taller than Francis, broader in the shoulders and muscular. Sam should have been able to take care of himself. He had been trained in Mohawk fighting techniques when he was a boy. His gang on the reservation laughed at the thought that they would ever need such training. The world was a different place than it was years back. On the reservation, Mohawk traditions were handed down generation to generation, like music and dance, and respect for one’s elders and respect for what was left of nature. What else was a boy to do when his clan told him to listen to his assigned leader and learn what he had to teach? Sam lived in the outside world now, New York City, where his music could take him the farthest. This talk of patronage – Francis was very old school. Perhaps it was how things were done in his country, but it made Sam feel strange.

The vampire led them to a bench. He had not let go of Sam’s arm. For two close friends, this might have been appropriate, but Sam felt peculiar at the familiar touch. Francis wore leather gloves, but even through them, his hand felt cold. “You have the right idea, Sam. I did not want your band mates to overhear what I had to say to you. Your guitar player is your leader. He hired you. Am I right?” Sam nodded; pretty sure Francis could see him well enough. “I’m interested in your career. I’d like to see you with a band of your own, where you’re free to express yourself and play what you want. I don’t want you to have to worry about money. You should be able to set your own agenda, pick your songs, and follow your own muse. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, you’re telling me you’re my fairy godfather.” Francis looked at him without speaking. “Unless you know magic, it’s not that easy. I’m still new to living in the City. I share an apartment with three buddies. It’s a dump, but they can’t raise the rent until the paying tenant moves out. We are, all of us, trying to make it, to become known, to get to be headliners. I can’t walk away from the first bandleader who gave me a break, at least not now. We have a six-month contract and I’ve only been with him three months. I’d have to make some new connections. I don’t want to make enemies, and I want to stay at the Vanguard. It’s the top venue in the jazz world.” He was letting his guard down. Francis's fingers touched Sam’s wrist. It almost felt like he was taking his pulse. Sam stared at Francis, apprehension tightening his voice. “Why are you so interested in me? You don’t know me. What’s the catch? What do you really want from me?”

“First, you have to stop being afraid of me so I can tell you. Do you believe in Fate, Sam?” Francis asked.

Once more, Sam tried to probe Francis’s thoughts. Mind listeners on the reservation knew how to block his skill. He’d been trained to be a shaman, but he rejected that role, disappointing his grandmother and all the elders in Bear Clan when he told them he needed to follow his own path, even when it led him to a Greenwich Village jazz club. The Vanguard was THE place for jazz, the most famous in the country, and he’d nearly made it! To lead his own band, to have no one else dictate his agenda so he could play the music in his soul – that was tempting.

Although he tried, Sam could not get Francis’s thoughts. He wasn’t blocked exactly, but he found himself in a mind he didn’t understand. The older man was thinking in a different language. He said he was Romanian. “I don’t know,” Sam replied. “Why do you want to know if I believe in Fate?”

“Because Fate gave me a mission, Sam. I was to find you and help you accomplish your goals. That’s why I asked to be assigned to New York.”

Sam shook his head. “You can’t have heard of me in Romania. Come on! I’m not world famous. Did you ever even hear of me or listen to my music before tonight?”

Francis left off pressing lightly against Sam’s pulse point. Instead, he rubbed his thumb in circles on the palm of Sam’s hand. It felt mildly pleasant. Although it seemed too familiar a gesture for a stranger to be touching him like this, Sam let him. He wondered if he ought to be more afraid.

“No. Honestly, I never heard of you,” Francis said. “I didn’t know what you looked like. I didn’t know what your name would be, but I knew I had to find you. As soon as I heard you play, I felt our connection. When I touched you, I confirmed it and so did you. You are the one I was searching for.”

“But why?” His words sent chills down Sam’s spine. The drizzle continued. He threw back his head and laughed. “I know what you are. You’re a demon, aren’t you?” Sam felt like he was whistling in a theater, challenging Fate. He tried to keep the appearance of sanity, smiling as he made his accusation. “The Creator wanted to know if I was strong enough to leave temptation behind and come back to the reservation, so he sent you to tempt me. I’m right; aren’t I?” He had to sound crazy to this foreigner. Eastern Europeans probably thought everyone on the western side of the Atlantic was crazy, and Sam had just proved it.

“I’m not a demon,” Francis said simply. He looked around. No one was within hearing. “Just a vampire.”

“Are you trying to scare me or become my patron?” Sam tried to pull away, but Francis’s grip was like iron. “Are you planning to drink my blood next?”

“If you’ll let me.”

Sam tried to swallow against his fear. “I have to get back for my next set. The band will send someone looking for me if I don’t show up. They’ll call the police.” Francis was rubbing his thumb against Sam’s palm again, soothing him. “What do you mean, if I let you? If I believed you, if you were real, you’re ten times stronger than any human. How could I stop you?”

Francis smiled to him. Sam wasn’t sure it was not just his imagination, but he thought he saw fangs. “It’s just young vampires who are ten times stronger than a human. I’m much stronger than that. We get stronger the older we are. But if you don’t want me to drink your blood, just say so. I wouldn’t force myself on you. I told you, I was sent to help you, to protect you. I’d like to be your patron and help you in any way I can, but that’s up to you.”

“You’d just let me go and not chase me or anything?”

“No. I’m not going to chase you.”

Sam didn’t really believe what Francis had said about being a vampire, but he was awfully strong. He hardly believed he was in Washington Square Park at all. Either he was at home dreaming, or the weed he’d smoked before his set must have been really spiked with something. Probably both. It was expensive, but worth it if you didn’t mind hallucinations. He wondered if he should give saying ‘no thanks’ a try. “This is a joke, right? I don’t think everyone from Romania is a vampire. They probably don’t hire vampires in the diplomatic corps.” He waited a moment to see if Francis would speak again, but he didn’t. “Let me go then.” Francis let go of his hand. Sam stood up immediately and backed up a few steps, his eyes still on Francis.

“Would you like me to walk you back? No one will attack you while I’m around. I would make sure you got back to the Vanguard safely.”

“No blood-sucking?”

“Not if you’d prefer I wouldn’t. My offer still stands though. Here, take my card.” He pulled a cardholder from his coat pocket, flipped it open and slid out a card with his name, number and email address. “That’s my office phone at the embassy. The symbols are Romania’s flag connected to the U.N. emblem. “I’ll be by the club to listen to you again. Call or just let me know if you want to accept my offer. I’ll be in the U.S. another week. I’d like to set you up in your own place and see what I can do for you before I go.”

Sam spun around, arms out, head up, looking at the cloudy sky. He was free. He could run back to the Club and forget he met this strange man, pretend tonight never happened. Francis said he wouldn’t chase him. Drizzle coated his eyelashes and the collar of his coat. “I’ve lost my mind,” he mumbled, and came back to the bench to sit down beside Francis again. “Why do I feel safe with you if you’re a vampire?”

“Because you are safe. I’d never harm you or let anyone else harm you. You couldn’t be safer. To get back to our previous discussion, people tell me a vampire bite is better than drugs. No hangover, and it’s less addicting.”

“This is crazy. You know this is crazy, right?” Francis didn’t reply. Sam closed his eyes. “Okay, but if I die, I’m coming back for you.”

“Of course. You always come back for me, but that’s many years in the future. When you do, we’ll have to find each other again like we did tonight. We’ve been the best of friends for a long time, you and I. That’s why you felt like you knew me. Take off your coat. Your collar is in the way. You won’t be cold soon. I promise.”

Sam did what Francis said, handing the older man his coat. He told himself it wasn't because he believed Francis was going to do all those wonderful things he offered. Whether it was curiosity or just to see how this played out, he was going to go along with it and hope he survived the experience.

Francis put his card in one of Sam's pockets. “Sit closer. Let me wrap both coats around you. I don’t have any body warmth to share, and it’s a cool night.”

“No sex. I’m not gay and even if I was, I’m not doing anything on a park bench.” Sam cautioned him. He wanted to laugh at how ridiculous that must sound, but he couldn’t.

“I won’t do anything but take a little of your blood. Don’t worry. Relax.” Francis put one arm around Sam and rested the younger man’s head against his shoulder. He leaned over him and touched his neck with the tips of his fingers. Sam felt Francis lick the skin over his vein and tensed, waiting for pain. When it came, it hurt less than his last flu shot. He wondered if worse pain would come later or if he’d still be alive to feel it. He had to remember to change weed dealers.

Francis was right. This was better than anything he’d smoked, better than anything else his band buddies had talked him into trying. Was this what meth felt like? He’d never tried that. His body responded nearly as if he was in the beginning of orgasm, his groin tightening, his breath coming faster, his back arching. Francis never touched any part of him but his shoulders and head while his lips worked against Sam’s neck.

After a minute or so, Francis pulled back. He learned in to lick away the remaining blood and clean the wound. “No infections,” he told Sam. “A vampire’s bite is sterile.” He licked his lips and pulled out a handkerchief to blot the corners of his mouth. “So? What do you think?”

Sam touched his own neck tentatively. His fingers were a bit damp when he took them away. He licked them off, and then chuckled. “That must seem funny to you,” he admitted. “I just wondered what it tasted like.” He pulled his long hair forward to cover the twin wounds, hiding them. “You were right about how it felt,” he said, still slightly amazed. “Is heroin or meth like that?”

“I don’t know anything about meth. Heroin is a recent invention. Opium is much older, but I died too early to try it. Also, blood tastes different to a vampire than to a human. For the record, ‘vampire’ is a comparatively recent word. I don’t care for it. The word sounds degrading, but it was convenient for our conversation. I’ll tell you more about blood-drinkers another time. For now, we have to get you back. We’ll talk more about your career and find you a better place to live tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you’re real and what we just did.”

Francis smiled in a friendly way. “Believe it. I enjoyed it too, and no. It wasn’t sex although I hear it feels something like it to humans.”

“Are there others like you?”

“Probably. I don’t go out of my way to find them. You don’t want to miss your next set. The schedule says you’re on again at 11:30. Let me hear what else you can do with those drums.” They walked arm in arm out of the park and down the street back to 7th Avenue.

[francis]

Penina, I really love this backstory to The Beat. I really hope you post the other chapters here, too, and maybe continue the story. Yoru Sam is an intriguing character, and the more I know about him the more I understand why Mick was so drawn to him.

[Penina Spinka]

I just posted two more chapters to this 2 chapter story. I didn't expect to write them, but muses have a funny way of dealing with writers and they told me what happened the day after Francis found Sam. Thank you for asking. You can always find my stories on vamploveforever . net, but I may yet post Possibly Sam and New Day over here. It depends on if anyone on this site is reading my Sam stories. I think he's my alter ego and how I would react to things if I were in his place. I'm comforted that you like them.
Penina