The Christmas Dress
By Kabuki
December 1999
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
"The crowds are atrocious, the decorations are hideously garish, and I still
am having a wonderful time. How can this be?"
Lestat threw back his head and laughed out loud, his voice melting in with
those of the other Christmas shoppers. It wasn't so much the words that had
spurred him into such a fit, for he had been giddy as a hyperactive adolescent
the entire evening. More likely it was the atmosphere. Gabrielle smiled a bit
at her son's side, still looking vaguely unsure about the entire episode.
There was something unsettling about robotic, dancing Santa Clauses and edible
Merry Christmas underwear, but still it was fun to mingle with the mortals
and especially with such good company. Lestat calmed his laughter soon enough
and kissed her cheek with all the affection she had come to expect from her
youngest son. For just a moment she remembered what he had been like as a
child, watching the snow fall from his room in the castle's tower with eyes
that
seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. She could feel herself softening for only
a moment, and struggled to build up her icy exterior once more but in vain.
Anyway, what was the use? And he was trying so very hard to show her that the
mortal world could be fun. Would it break his heart, she wondered, if he
knew that she wouldn't stay long?
"Gabrielle, I never thought I'd hear you say such a thing. You mean to say
that you of all people are actually enjoying yourself?"
She smiled a little, and Lestat thought his heart stopped to see it. The way
the red and green lights from the stores surrounding them on all sides fell
upon her face only made her appear the more lovely. A smile though, that was
more than he had expected to glean from her -- especially in a mall of all
things. She didn't really seem to belong there, her hiking boots were caked
with who knows how much mud and grime and her hair looked as though it hadn't
been cleaned, let alone combed, in years. But even in such meager dress she
was
a vision. The archangel Gabrielle. She certainly fit the description.
Looking at her, though, had made an idea come to his mind, and a mischievous
smile spread across his lips. Gabrielle frowned, for she knew exactly what
such a look could mean, but before she could utter a word of protest her son
and maker had lifted her from the mall bench and carried her at an inhuman
speed into a department store. When her feet at last made contact with terra
firma again she was furious. "How dare you! Do you think that just because you
happen to have been a male when you died you somehow have the right to
maneuver me where you wish? Lestat de Lioncourt, I should take you over my
knee and
spank you right here."
Lestat only laughed, his eyes twinkling. "Really, Gabrielle! I am far too
old for that and you know it! Besides for starters you never spanked me in my
life, and secondly I'm too fast for you." He winked. "And besides, who could
be upset after what I have in mind for you?"
Gabrielle backed away, her eyes darting about instinctually for any
available exit. "Lestat ... "
"I only want to buy you something."
"That's very nice, but ..."
"A present! Maybe even several since we're here."
Gabrielle looked around the store, but it really was obvious what Lestat had
in mind. A dress shop, and an expensive one too. There was a poster of a
woman in some strange gown with the word Vogue neatly typed in the upper
right-hand corner, and another poster brandishing a woman of similar dress
emblazoned with the title Cosmopolitan. These words meant nothing to
Gabrielle, except
that somehow Lestat had managed to lure her to a dressmaker's service for
one reason.
She sighed. "Lestat, you know we have never exchanged gifts and for good
reason. Christmas is a tradition for those with faith in the birth of Christ.
I
have none. Please don't buy me anything. I don't need it."
The boyish excitement seemed to waver for a moment, and memories of lonely
Christmases returned to her, of her son wandering through the cavernous belly
of the castle with no one to play with and no one to care. Everyone off
celebrating Christmas save for them. A boy only wanting to do good in a
godless
household. Perhaps another tactic would be less hurtful, she mused. "Lestat,
be
honest, where will I of all creatures where such a dress?"
Lestat regained his optimism once more and smiled. Behind the counter a
sales representative was emerging from the back room complete with tacky grin.
Gabrielle sighed in frustration. "Why, to the Christmas party, naturally. The
entire coven is going to be there. Surely a dress would be nice, don't you
think?"
"What if I were to tell you that I had no plans to attend such a gathering?
What if I told you that I don't like the company? What if I told you that I
only came to New York to find you and to threaten certain corporation owner
living in this area who just happens to be strip mining in my favorite
jungles?"
"I would still be here with you trying to buy a dress."
Gabrielle glanced once more at the bright colors of the Christmas lights
adorning the store rooms, and then at the bright eyes and hopeful look of her
golden son. She sighed. "Lestat ... I don't think this will be a good idea."
"Come on, it isn't so difficult. I'll tell you what. If you buy a dress
here, then I will as well and we will both have clothing for the party."
She glared up at her taller son, only becoming more angered by the mocking
grin on his lips. "No. I will not have my son seen wearing a dress in public."
"Only in private then, hmm?"
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. So, are you game then? Will you just buy one little dress? It
can't hurt."
The next few hours were a whirlwind of fabrics, colors, and feeble protests
for Gabrielle, but as much as she hated to admit it she was actually enjoying
herself. It had been so very long since she had tried on anything resembling
fashionable ladies clothing, and the choices Lestat made for her were not
only beautiful but highly expensive. At first she was angered by his
assumption
that she would even attend the party, but soon enough she was choosing
dresses at nearly the same frequency as her son until Lestat stepped back and
simply let Gabrielle handle the choice of dress. Finally, after venturing into
several boutiques and trying on countless items a fitting piece of clothing
was
selected. Lestat positively beamed with joy when he saw her step tentatively
out of the dressing room. Gabrielle's golden hair was still filthy but done
up in a tight braid so as not to ruin the clothing, which was itself a
wonderful piece of art: a blue taffeta Christian Dior dress, form fitting and
with
a low cut portrait neckline which exposed her shoulders and abundant
cleavage. Lestat paid for the clothing, as well as some accessories and a
bottle of
shampoo.
As mother and son exited the mall, Lestat with a dress bag flung over his
shoulder and Gabrielle clutching a hand held plastic bag from the store, each
were smiling happily. Lestat led the way to his car, which was really on loan
from Louis for the night -- he hadn't been certain of how his mother would
react to a ride on his Harley Davidson -- and loaded the packages into the
trunk. When Gabrielle tried to help, he simply took the bag from her. She
frowned. "I can take care of myself you know."
"I know."
Silence as the trunk was packed, then closed. "Thank you."
Lestat looked at her, stunned, before recovering himself. "It looked good on
you. How could I not buy the silly thing? And anyway I can't pass up an
opportunity to make you conform now, can I?"
Gabrielle shook her head and smiled slightly, the coldness still present
though not as prevalent as before. "Not for the dress, Lestat, though I must
thank you for that as well. I meant for taking the time. For showing me this
place during such a season. Mortals can be like cattle, but for once I am
leaving with very few complaints."
The snow was falling again.
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