Song About RainbowsDisclaimers: I don't own these vampires, Anne Rice does. I 
make no money from this. I don't own Kermit the Frog or this song. Jim Henson 
created Kermit, Brian Henson and Disney own them now I think. This song is from 
The Muppet Movie, which I don't own.
Warning: Mild slash, bad poetry.
Spoilers: To Tale of the Body Thief
The Rainbow Connection
from The Muppet Movie
Words and Music by Paul Williams and Kenny Ascher
Why are there so many songs about rainbows, 
and what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions but only illusions, 
and rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it; 
I know they're wrong; wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, 
the lovers, the dreamers, and me.
Who said that ev'ry wish would be heard and answered 
When wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it; 
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star-gazing, 
and what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, 
the lovers, the dreamers, and me.
All of us under it's spell; We know that it's probably magic
Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? 
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors? 
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it; 
It's something that I'm s'posed to be.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, 
the lovers, the dreamers, and me.
La da da dee Da da do La la da da Da de da do.
I look up at the vast expanse of sky before my eyes, clearly visible from my 
roof. The light from the city is not so strong that I cannot see through it, 
and with the lack of clouds out, the stars stand out wonderfully to my vampire 
eyes. When I was mortal, I was mildly myopic, although I've never told anyone. 
I used to see the stars only as vague points of light with wild halos around 
every one. I only saw the stars for what they really are when Lestat first took 
me from the light. The little blurs turned into dazzling pinpoints for me, and 
the moon...he had no idea how beautiful it all was to me that night.
Tonight I'm relaxing on my roof, stargazing. I like to do this sometimes, when 
the nights are especially quiet and the mortals are not restless. Every now and 
then a car passes by, but there are no sirens, no loud voices. Only the cicadas 
and the crickets are out. There is a thin silver crescent of a moon out, with a 
luminous nimbus surrounding it. 
I glance back down at my notebook, 'college ruled' with black pages specially 
made for gel ink pens. I have only recently discovered these tiny marvels but 
they are my favorites, especially with glow-in-the-dark ink. It is easier for 
me to see the words as I write up here. I have already written a few lines 
tonight.
Winter's night.
Diamonds swirling in patterns of ice,
and frost misted upon the boughs.
I never write anything meaningful up here, only pretty things full of imagery. 
I wish I could I write about more colorful items, not just the black, gray and 
white of the night sky, but those things are lost to me. I try not to think 
about that, but up here my thoughts tend to wander inevitably to my unnatural 
nature.
I miss rainbows. Or at least I used to, until Lestat showed me an ingenious 
trick. He took me outside to his back yard, where he has several lights 
brightening his stone path, and he brought the garden hose out. For a moment I 
had thought he meant to douse me, but he turned the nozzle to 'mist' and 
allowed it to drizzle beside a white lamp. It took a few seconds for the water 
particles to float in a wide enough area, but then I saw the light reflecting 
in the scattered mirrors, and I saw my rainbow for the first time in years. It 
was not as glorious as the colorful streaks framed by gray clouds after a 
summer storm, but it was a miracle in itself. Radiant sparkles bouncing off the 
billions of jewels in the spray...It was a rainbow circled in gold.
Lestat certainly earned my attentions that night.
I sigh and look down over the edge at the humid street below. I haven't seen 
Lestat in a few nights. He has not visited and I have not gone over lately. 
Part of it has to do with David. My 'brother' is kind enough, but I feel 
uncomfortable around him, and I believe he knows it, which only makes him feel 
uncomfortable, and that in turn makes me feel even more uneasy...and Lestat 
does not seem to notice. Of course, he cannot feel our minds and emotions, and 
he has never been very good at reading faces. I wish he would come see me, 
though.
A steady breath of solitude,
borne upon the northern wind,
cracks the frozen dew.
I am mildly glad that my maker does not see me now, however, covered in a fine 
layer of moisture as the dew begins to fall. He would say I haven't the sense 
to come in out of the cold. I'm just glad my notebook is not damp. I still have 
a few hours before I have to go in or risk soggy pages. I glance at my little 
poem, and wonder what to write next.
Pyres encapsulated in pure ice,
dancing with the mirrored light,
trailing streams across the sky.
Minutes pass, and there is a light tapping sound to my right. I gaze aside and 
smile. Lestat has just 'touched down' next to me. He is dressed in frayed jeans 
and a ragged silk shirt with loose sneakers, so I believe he won't want to take 
me out to something loud tonight.
I have read him correctly. He remains silent, coming behind me and sitting down 
so that he can pull me backwards against his body. I close my eyes and let him 
hold me. It is so nice when he is kind and unassuming.
"Your skin is so frigid," he whispers. "You should wear something heavier when 
you come out here like this."
I look down at myself. I'm wearing clothes almost identical to his, but then 
his body is not as severely affected by the weather as mine is. I nestle closer 
to him, allowing his warm arms to heat me up.
"Mmm...I don't need heavy clothes when you're around."
I can almost see his smile. "Chere, you do not need any clothes when I am 
around."
He runs his fingers through my hair, caressing the few knots out. This is very 
relaxing and I begin to drowse, resting my head on his shoulder.
"So, what are you writing, my love?"
"Oh, nothing," I answer, closing my notebook. I wonder if he had read any of it 
before I shut it.
"Louis..." he whispers sadly. "Will you ever let me read your poetry?"
I shake my head slowly. "No, I doubt it."
"But you show it to a few others."
"Yes, but I do not have to live around those others all the time."
"Ah, so you do not want a constant critique of your work?"
I smile at him, and stay quiet.
We lay there for a long time, just watching the stars. Occasionally a thin 
cloud will pass over the horizon, trailing a wispy path. There is no sense of 
hurry, of needing to do something. There is plenty of time to just cuddle.
Suddenly a bright flash streaks across the sky, making me gasp. A shooting 
star! I have not seen once since childhood.
"Did you see that?" Lestat asks.
I nod. "It was pretty."
"Did you make a wish?"
"A wish?" I ask, looking up at him.
"Yes, a wish," he insists. "You're supposed to make a wish on a shooting star."
"Oh," I reply. "I had no idea."
"Well, make one."
I smile and chuckle. He can be quite child-like when he allows himself.
"Very well...I think...yes, I wish--"
"No, Louis, don't tell me, or else it won't come true."
I laugh gently at that. "So many rules, Lestat, for a simple wish!"
Lestat gives my cheek a small kiss. I permit him to take my notebook from my 
hands and set it aside, placing the pen in the wire spiral. Now he picks up my 
right hand in his and steadily strokes it, playing gently with my fingers. Then 
he turns it over and examines my palm. I only have a few lines left in it, the 
ones that were deepest when I was a mortal.
"You have a remarkably strong life line," he says.
"Since when do you know how to read palms?" I ask.
"I learned a few hours ago."
"It was on the Discovery channel, wasn't it?"
"TLC, love."
So he's only come to practice his new skills. I lower my face to hide my 
disappointment. "So what else do my lines say about me?"
"You're head and your life lines are very close together, which means you're 
very intelligent, and you always think rationally."
I know something of palm reading, and he's close enough to the truth, but I let 
him continue. It's rather nice, the way he traces my palm with his fingertips.
"And your heart line is very strong...there is one break in it early on, but 
after that, all of your affections are devoted to one person."
I smile, that's not what it should mean at all, but I look up for another kiss, 
and then I don't care what it means. His mouth is so hot, I wonder how he can 
stand kissing me.
"I must be like an ice sculpture to you," I sigh.
“No, Louis...you will never melt out of my grasp. You are a chiseled beauty, 
and my beauty alone."
"David..."
"David? What about him?" He seems genuinely confused at my mention of that 
name, which reassures me a little.
"Why did you make him, Lestat? Why did you need another?"
"I...Louis...I...he was there for me, chere. I needed someone and he was there, 
and then afterward he wanted it, but he was too afraid to accept, so...I was 
afraid and alone, and he helped me."
"Like I didn't," I say bitterly. Damn, it is all my fault, isn't it? And this 
was all so perfect, and now I've ruined it. I make a move to rise, but he holds 
me down. "Lestat, let me go!"
"No!" he says just as stubbornly. "I won't let you leave angry."
"I am not angry!"
"Then you're upset, which is a mix of anger and sadness, am I right?"
I stop struggling, it won't help me anyway. I nod. Everything is silent for 
several minutes.
"He is not a replacement, Louis. I love him, yes, but not the way I love you."
I look up into his eyes. He seems sincere..."How do you love me?" I pray he 
does not make a joke out of this and say "let me count the ways."
He doesn't say anything for a moment. Then he takes a deep breath. "A long time 
ago, in the beginning, no one was alone. Everyone was joined to their mate, and 
spent all of their time talking and sitting around with their love. The Creator 
noticed that nothing was getting done, so he took his thunderbolts and struck 
everyone apart, separating them and sending them off to the corners of the 
world. Now we all work and do things, but most of all, we're always searching 
for our other half. Have you heard this theory before?"
"Now and again," I whisper.
"My search ended one night in New Orleans, when I found a green-eyed man 
stumbling out of a bar, hoping to die."
He holds me tight, and I return his embrace. How is it he knows what to say? 
Loving Lestat is like riding one of those modern roller coasters. First you are 
laughing, then you are crying, and then you don't know quite how to feel.
"Would you like to go inside?" he asks, and I nod slightly. He gathers me up 
and takes me in, placing my forgotten notebook on a desk. Then he lays me down 
on my bed, barely big enough for two.
"It'll be light in a few hours," he whispers. "Do you mind if I stay over here 
tonight?"
I smile. "Do you mind sleeping with me tonight?"
He grins broadly and begins to undress me. "You know, that is exactly what I 
wished for."
"And to think, I'd only wished for you to stay over," I laugh, helping him 
disrobe.
“You see, mon chere, wishes really do come true."
The End

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