Amour doux et miellé.

Traveling

"If you could go anywhere in the whole world, where would it be?" That was the first question Madeleine remembered Claudia asking her a few years before. It was when they first decided to run away; they were still in France, of course. Not in Paris, but close enough to Auvergne; honestly, if Madeleine could help it, she never wanted to go back to Paris. Claudia didn't either—too many risks, not enough good memories—but even then, in Auvergne, Claudia wanted more. She was like a cat who always wanted more cream, or a child who was always demanding more toys, no matter how many they had.

Of course, Madeleine wouldn't have minded traveling with her lover if that was what she wanted. She honestly wished to get out of France if she could, and if not get out of France, then perhaps go to Nouvelle-Aquitaine near the water. She had never been on a beach, never let her toes touch the sand in the warm sun. But now she couldn't go into the sunlight, only the moonlight, so perhaps she would go to The Grand Est instead if she could. It was beautiful, Madeleine heard—nice vineyards, charming villages.

Or maybe Burgundy; the countryside sounded nice, and there would be nobody to bother her and Claudia. They could just rest if that's what they wished, and it would make cleaning up the bodies of the dead so much easier without prying eyes. But they would need an incinerator; it was much more efficient than letting rats eat them. Not that Madeleine would do that; it's just that Claudia had mentioned rats a few times when thinking of ways to get rid of bodies. Madeleine had asked about it a few times, of course, but Claudia shook it off. "I hate rats anyway, and our dear cats will just think of them as supper," Claudia had replied.

Madeleine eventually looked up from her endless stitching. What was she sewing now? New curtains, some nice ones to hang up in the window of her and Claudia's bedroom. And beside Madeleine, on the sofa, a ragged new dress, freshly washed of blood, lay halfway hanging off the armrest. Claudia had taken it from a woman she had killed and drunk from, saying, 'Waste not, want not'.
Of course, the dress would have to be altered and mended a little; the sleeves had to be shortened, and the hem needed to be re-stitched. And the ends of the dress were frayed and in need of repair. Claudia had cleaned off the blood, so Madeleine just had to do what she did best. Claudia had also gotten a pair of earrings and shoes from the woman; the shoes were too big for Claudia but the perfect size for the seamstress. And the earrings sparkled in the light of the room and went nicely with another dress Claudia had.

So there Madeleine sat, sewing, as Claudia sat not too far away from her, writing in another diary of hers. She had a lot of them—over 12 now—each filled with memories and secrets that she kept hidden from the world. Madeleine had been the only one allowed to read these diaries, as Claudia trusted her more than anybody else in the world.

There, the two lovers sat in a comfortable silence, their cats sprawled on the carpeted floor by the floor. Though Claudia was the one to break the silence and say something after reaching over and cutting off the record player, which was playing some sort of love song Madeleine couldn't recall, "Chère?" Claudia called out, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she set her pen down in the spin of her notebook. "Yes, Ma douce?" Madeleine replied, looking up from her stitching as Claudia shifted in her seat a little.

"I've been thinking," Claudia began, her eyes searching Madeleine's for a reaction as Madeleine spoke up, wanting to know. "About what?" Madeleine asked, leaning forward in her chair, almost as if that simple movement would bring her closer to Claudia's thoughts. Claudia then smiled lightly as she kicked her legs just a little, letting her foot gently brush against Butterscotch's foot. The cat, in return, purred softly and nuzzled against Claudia's leg, as if urging Claudia to continue on with what she was saying. "I was thinking about us taking a trip," Claudia finally confessed, her eyes bright with excitement.

Madeleine paused, eyeing her lover. Had she read her mind and knew, knew she wanted to go somewhere new, if only for a little while? "A trip, where?" Madeleine asked as Claudia pressed her lips together to think, "Italy," the black-haired vampire decided. "In Venice?" Madeleine replied, soon letting her fingers pick up their work. Stitching the curtains that rested nicely on her lap and over her knees. "Or Lombardy perhaps, if you'd prefer it," Claudia suggested, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Or maybe we should go to England instead; London is pretty in all those movies I've seen," Claudia added soon after.

Madeleine paused to think about it again. "Or," Madeleine said, "you could take me to New Orleans," Madeleine proposed delicately. She knew Claudia would most likely say no; just like how Paris left a sour taste in the woman's mouth, New Orleans did the same. Bad memories had clouded Claudia's mind, but it would be funny, truly, to go back to the place where she, Louis, and Lestat killed what might be hundreds. And when they are in New Orleans, they'll ask 'first time' and it wouldn't be Claudia's first time there.

14 years living in Storyville, and even longer living in that house in the French Quarter, where the incinerator burned brightly every night. "Maybe another time, maybe after this trip, hell, maybe we don't have to come right back here," Claudia decided. "We can travel for a little while; we can go from one place to another and come back here when we are ready," Claudia pointed out. "The house will always be waiting, and we can find a way to bring the cats with us so they can see the world too," Claudia suggested.

And as Madeleine thought about it, she grinned before throwing out a few more ideas on where the couple could possibly go. "Rome sounds so nice, doesn't it? Or New York in America, or maybe Peru, where we can visit Machu Picchu," Madeleine offered enthusiastically. And Claudia listened to each suggestion, loving each one, not just because she wanted to travel. Not just because she wanted to leave France, but because she had someone who wanted to come with her—someone who wanted her.

Madeleine had chosen Claudia, and that was what always made Claudia's heart beat a thousand and one beats all at once. "I'll go anywhere," Claudia hummed. "Anywhere, as long as you are right there beside me," Claudia whispered. And there, Claudia reached out and took Madeleine's hand, giving it a light squeeze, that smile plastered on her face like a photo.