Title: Resurrection Author: Elizabeth Wilde Rating: R Pairing: Lacroix/OFC Summary: Lacroix finds a familiar face at The Raven.
Disclaimer: I own only the original chars. Somebody else owns Lacroix, more s the pity. I m making no money from this, just getting a happy.
Distribution: My site at .net/wilde, anyone who asks nicely, anyone already archiving my fic.

Lacroix watched the girl from the moment she entered the bar. She had come in with a few friends, all of whom seemed much more suited to the Raven's rather dark clientele than she. Her long, dark hair fell to her waist and her large blue eyes watched everything around her curiously. She hardly spoke, save to exchange a few words with her friends as they set out for another part of the club, leaving her alone in a crowd of strangers.

Hesitantly, she walked toward the bar. Lacroix waved away his assistant and stepped in front of her. "What can I get you, my dear?"

"I... a virgin daquiri." She blushed, obviously embarrassed to make such a tame request.

Lacroix surmised that she couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen. "Coming right up." With an amused smile, he quickly mixed the drink, setting it on the counter. "There. This is your first time here."

"Yes. I... my friends brought me."

"You don't sound pleased."

For the first time, she looked him directly in the eyes. "I'm not. Clubs aren't my thing. But they kinda dragged me here."

"I see. Forgive my lack of manners. My name is Lacroix. I own this club."

The girl's eyes widened in horror. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that this isn't a great club. I just-"

"I understand."

There was a twinkle of amusement in the words, and she relaxed marginally. "My name is Cassandra."

Lacroix took her hand and kissed it gently. "The pleasure is all mine." /It's her eyes... so like Lysia's. And her smile. It has been ages since I thought of her. It was so long ago. So very long ago.../

Rome, 101 AD A large estate

Lacroix watched the girl from the upper story as she patiently straightened each cushion on the couch and dusted every statue. He had hired Lysia at first simply because she had been the first person who had responded to his request for a maid. Then he had become taken with the way she simply accepted his orders, no matter how strange. No open windows during the day. No religious symbols. No one allowed into his private chambers at any time.

Lysia simply nodded and did as he requested. He sometimes wondered whether it was her desperate need of a job or her loyalty that made her so agreeable. Certainly, she possessed enough intelligence to know something strange lurked within the walls of the estate. He had seen her poring over the thousands of volumes in his library.

After having a trusted messenger do a bit of digging, Lacroix had learned that Lysia's parents were killed in some sort of accident two years before and she had been on her own ever since, scrounging to make ends meet.

/I know few women who possess the strength to exist in such a manner, let alone mere girls of nineteen./ But she was obviously no ordinary girl. He noted that she declined to be involved in any of the usual religious rites, instead spending her days sleeping and her nights working, as he did. They rarely spoke, which suited Lacroix well.

"Lysia?"

She started, then looked up to the second floor landing. "Yes, Master?"

"Why do you stay here?"

Her eyebrows knit. "Why? Because I work here."

"Of course. But a beautiful young woman like yourself could certainly find more interesting, better paying jobs. Why don't you?"

She seemed lost in thought for a moment, her blue eyes briefly closed. When she raised her dark head again, she seemed completely sure of her answer. "Because I am supposed to be here."

"You still with me?" Cassandra was asking.

"Of course, my dear, of course."

After about thirty minutes, Cassandra's friend Rachel finally stumbled out of a back room, looking disgusted. She threw her shoe into the room and called, "JERK!" After rolling her eyes at what Cassandra assumed was response of the man her friend had just chucked her shoe at, Rachel stalked over to Cassandra.

"Where's Lil?"

The dark-haired girl shook her head. "Dancing last I saw. I haven't been watching."

For the first time, Rachel noted Lacroix's presence. "I see. Well, I'll get her. We're blowing this popsicle stand. I want to go home, take a shower, and eat some chocolate ice cream." Without another word, Rachel disappeared into the throng of people on the dance floor.

Almost nervously, Cassandra met Lacroix's intense gaze. "I guess I have to go. I've actually enjoyed this."

"You sound surprised."

"I am. I hate clubs." Cassandra flashed a smile before she grabbed her purse from the counter and stood. "But I'd like to come back again."

"I hope very much that you will." She turned to leave. "Cassandra?"

She faced him again, eyebrows raised. "Yes

"Listen to CERK radio tonight. You won't regret it."

Cassandra nodded and smiled. She tended to avoid talk radio at all costs, but the man had managed to make an evening that should have been terrible more than tolerable. Besides, there was something about him, something that she couldn t quite put her finger on. Will do. Thanks again.

Rachel and Lil both hopped into Cassandra's beat-up Nissan. Quickly sliding into the driver's seat, Cassandra flicked on the radio. She turned the key in the ignition and put the car in reverse. "Hey, Rach, can you find CERK for me? A friend recommended it."

"That bartender you were drooling over?" Lil teased.

Cassandra blushed. "Just find it, huh? Besides, he wasn't just a bartender. Lacroix owns the club."

"Really?" asked Rachel, her interest piqued.

Anything to get free drinks, Cassandra groaned inwardly. "Yeah. Really."
"Got it!" Rachel said.

"Good evening, gentle listeners. Tonight, the Nightcrawler was reminded again of a time long past. My question for you is how much of the past remains with you?"
Cassandra felt her heart skip a beat. /It's him! And why does that make me feel so damn happy? Oh, hell, any guy that s got a voice like that.../

Rachel glanced over and noticed the odd expression on her friend's face. "What's the matter with you?

"Nothing. Nothing at all..."