During POSSIBLY SAM, a fan-fiction, Francis (4000+ year old vamp) brought his human companion Sam, along with Mick & Josef, to his favorite Blood Drinker Club. Francis doesn't like the word 'vampire'. While they leave Josef and Mick to the hostesses, Francis brings Sam to meet the proprietor. Since POSSILY SAM was narrated by Mick, what happened when they walked away could not be included in the story. Mick was busy with a Freshie at the time. This is Between the Scenes.
Between the Scenes During POSSIBLY SAM.
"Come with me. There's someone I want you to meet." Francis led Sam to a private area in the Music of the Night Club, while Josef and Mick were being entertained and fed by their hostesses. Francis knocked on the door. There was a moment of hesitation and then a voice told them to come in.
There was only one man inside, and he had been watching closed circuit monitors of the various 'private' alcoves in the Club. As soon as he saw Francis, he rose to his feet. He was taller than both of them, nearly 6 feet in height. He bowed his head briefly to Francis and smiled to Sam before he resumed his seat.
"Alfred," Francis said warmly. "I see you're keeping your eye on things."
"I have to make sure my hosts and hostesses are properly dealt with. We can't afford for any of them to be harmed. My club would develop a bad reputation."
"I'm glad to see you're taking good care of your assets," Francis told him. "I brought some associates by for dinner, but you already knew that. Your surveillance must have shown you. While our friends are occupied with their hostesses, I'd like you to meet my friend Sam Birchtree again. I wonder if he remembers you." Alfred noticed that Francis stressed the world 'friend'. That meant he hadn't told Sam yet that they were once twin brothers. It was not Alfred's place to say anything Francis wanted to keep private. "Sam, Alfred Magnus is an old friend of mine."
"I do remember you," Sam said. Their handclasp might have been warm had not Alfred's hand been cold. Sam looked down at their joined hands. "We met in late autumn a couple of years ago," he said. "Francis hired me and my friends for our first gig at the Romanian Embassy. He got the owner of the Vanguard to come and listen to us. I'm afraid impressing her was all I could think about at the time, that and Francis of course. He found me just a few days earlier."
Alfred smiled. "So, you do remember meeting me?"
"I do now. You were one of the few there who weren't thinking in Romanian." He looked at Francis who waited for his reaction to the Club and Alfred. "Oh," Sam said softly as he 'got' it. "None of your group was thinking in Romanian. Now that I know what I know, it makes perfect sense. You were all blood drinkers."
"Francis doesn't like the word 'vampire'. I see he has you trained not to use it."
"Did I mention Sam reads minds?" Francis asked Alfred. "You have to think in a foreign language if you want to keep your thoughts private."
"It's hard for me to believe there are people who can do that."
Sam grinned to Alfred. "It's hard for me to believe there are people born centuries ago who are still walking around. I'm glad Francis has friends he can be himself with when he comes to New York."
"Is this boy for real?" Alfred asked. "Pardon me, but most humans aren't like you. So, Sam, what do you think of my club?"
"Two years ago, I never would have believed places like this existed, but Mick brought me to a similar club last January. It was uptown. You may have heard of The Pulse?" Alfred nodded. "He had to pick up a six-pack of blood for a road trip we were taking. I didn't get more than a glimpse, but I'd say there's no competition between The Pulse and The Music. They had walk-ins. Yours is for a much more exclusive clientele."
"What a delightful young man your friend is, Francis," Alfred said. "I wish I had one like him."
Francis covered Sam's hand, the most affection he ever showed in public. "I couldn't ask for better. Do you mind if I tell Sam who you are?" he asked.
Alfred shrugged. "Obviously, he can be trusted or he wouldn't be here."
"Very well. More than a thousand years ago, Alfred was king of the Anglo-Saxons' kingdom of Wessex in Southern England. He defended his people from Viking incursions. I turned him in 899. We had each other's back in many a confrontation over the next few centuries. Now, he runs the Music and keeps the blood drinkers of New York in line."
Sam took another look at the stately man with the broad chest and the crown of silver-gold hair that made him look so regal. "Alfred Magnus, Alfred the Great," Sam said in a soft, wondering voice. "That's what it says above your picture on the Internet. You're the king who hid out from Vikings in a peasant's hut. According to the legend, you were watching a persistent spider spin her web and let the family's bread burn when you were supposed to be watching it. You begged forgiveness from the housewife. Then, you regrouped and drove the Vikings away."
"A human who studies history! They are rare. Is that all they say about me?" Alfred asked with a tinge of sadness.
"Do a Google search on your name and see for yourself. There's more, but that story is what got me interested enough to look you up."
Alfred took a long, unnecessary breath. "Yes, I'm that Alfred. Thanks to our mutual friend, I'm here to admit it."
Sam shook his head with a small smile. "Sometimes when I'm with Francis, I feel like I'm in a fantasy. It's amazing, but everything connected with Francis is amazing." He turned back to his friend. "You actually turned King Alfred!"
"You would have turned him too if you were in my place back then. It was one of my better decisions. He was fifty at the time, but brave and trustworthy, and already a good friend. Once I made the offer, he saw the real benefits beyond just extending his life. He was also a great administrator. Look what he does here." Alfred lowered his eyes modestly. Sam suspected he would have blushed, had he not been a vampire.
"I asked him to look out for you while I was away, to keep you safe from our kind. He's done a good job. That's why no New York blood drinker ever approached you."
Sam looked from Francis to Alfred and back again. "My friends out there are from Los Angeles. If they approach me, it's because I invited them to."
"I pre-approved them," Francis whispered, too low for Sam to hear. "If they make Sam happy, that is all that matters. I know he's in no danger from them."
"Thanks for the heads-up," Alfred responded in kind. "I'll tell the chef you enjoyed your dinner, Sam. You do understand our need for secrecy here?"
Sam nodded. "Absolutely."
"If you should happen to be alone in this neighborhood and want to stop in for a visit or a bite, you're welcome. That goes for both of you, of course."