Lost scenes from STV cont'd

Ok, so Cressida took off with Viviane and their at a nightclub.  While Cressida directs the crazy vampiress to a mortal to drink his blood, she gets it on with the vampire Jean-Hugues, the club owner.  Until, Viviane comes back...  (There is a reason these scenes have been cut; and you'll figure that out while reading them.)  :-)




         The office door cracked and split off its hinges.  Cressida finished pulling up her dress and shoved the vampire, pulling up his own pants, aside.  In the doorway stood Viviane, blood drooling from her mouth and down her neck.  Her hands were bloody and she grinned maniacally.         "I know you," the vampiress said as she sashayed into the room.  She took survey of the office, and tilted her head curiously.  "How do I know you?"         "We met a few years ago."  Centuries actually, but time was irrelevant between the two of them.  "At Lord Constantine's ball?"         "Constantine?"  The vampiress looked down, spreading a hand down her stomach and smearing blood trails into the fabric.  "A vampire?  But you are not?"  She approached, eyeing Jean-Hugues, who wisely remained behind Cressida.  "He smells like you."         "He's just fucked me, so that is possible."  Cressida did not fear the vampire lunging for her.  Let her drink her ichor and add addiction to insanity.  "Wasn't the human enough for you?"         "He's smelly.  I…"  She wobbled, stretched out her arms for balance "…need a patron," she decided with a sudden smile and focus on Jean-Hugues.         "He's available."         "Oh, no."  Jean-Hugues stepped to parallel Cressida.  "Patrons are no longer necessary.  We've evolved from patronage over the centuries.  We, male and female vampires, are equals now."         "She missed that part," Cressida snapped.  "She's still operating on eighteenth century time.  Go on, Jean-Hugues, patron her.  She seems to have become more coherent with the blood.  Perhaps taking from her own kind will snap her out of the madness like that."         "Why is it," he said, "that you subsisted in the same catatonic state alongside her, and yet you seem more rational—as rational as a faery with a pet vampire can be—and she is quite mad?"         "I am nature.  If you would imprison me in a steel building surrounded by technology and people and all that is not natural, I would go insane.  She lives for blood.  Take that away from her, she goes insane.  Isn't that right, Viviane?"         The vampiress was noticeably less aggressive now.  She shivered and clutched her shirt.  "I am not insane.  He will patron me?  Why do I know you?  You are…I know…"  She fisted her temple, attempting to pound memory or simple sense back into her brain.         Cressida lifted her chin.  "I am the one whom you owe a boon."         "Boon?  I have nothing.  Not here in my head."  She pounded again at her skull.  "Need more."  So pleadingly she appealed to Jean-Hugues, who slinked further behind Cressida.  "Please?"         She thrust out an arm, her fingers grasping, begging.  Feed me.  Make me whole.         "Jean-Hugues," Cressida intoned sweetly.  "She needs you."         "I don't want that crazy bitch sucking on my neck."         "Oh come.  It's either that or I dust you."         "Bring it, faery.  A little dust never hurt me."         "Fine.  If you don't mind the intense craving for ichor that comes along with the dust, then—"
         He gripped her hand, held before her mouth as she prepared to blow dust in his face.  "Wait.  She seriously needs a patron?  That's so…archaic."         "You could master her with your blood.  She's quite lovely."         "And mad."         "Not mad."  Viviane lunged and Cressida stepped aside, but toppled and landed the sofa where she had just allowed Jean-Hugues to pump into her body.  "Give me blood," she demanded of Jean-Hugues.         "All right!"  He surrendered.  "But no chewing.  Just get it done, and quickly."         The vampiress landed the vampire and they collided on the floor.  Cressida drew up her legs and watched from over her bent knees as the vampiress made quick work, bringing the vampire to a moaning swoon.  More theatrics involved than the climax he'd just experienced from her.  Whatever.         When Viviane had apparently finished, and leaned over the relaxed, half-sleeping vampire, Cressida stood and gripped her by the hair on top of her scalp.  "Happy now?  Because if you are, we should be leaving.  The club opens soon."         Not expecting the swift backhand, Cressida landed the couch high and collided with the wall, cheek first.         Viviane flashed her fangs and licked away the blood from her lips.  "I remember now.  Rhys.  He promised the faery..."