In Love with the Prince (of Darkness, That Is)

Mrs. Gable held up a very light blue, floor-length halter dress, with a black bow-tied sash. Dreama nodded and accepted it, going into the dressing room. "I won't tell you it isn't hard. Taylor's lucky, in that his case is relatively mild. But I'm sure you know that prolonged exposure could kill him."

"I know."

"It was worse when he was a baby. He was about six months old when we found out. That's when most babies start to show symptoms. I had a very hard pregnancy, and was sick for quite some time after. It was the first time I'd been well enough to try doing something outside by myself, so Taylor and I went to the park, and I left him in the shade under a tree while I read a book. I dozed off and woke up to the sound of him screaming like there was no tomorrow."

Dreama opened the curtain to look at Mrs. Gable, trying to get the image of a little sun-burnt baby out of her head.

"He was in the hospital for two weeks, and they accused me of doing it myself." She scoffed. "No mother, sick or otherwise, would have put her child in that much pain."

"What did you do when you found out?"

"I had never heard of it before, so I was completely lost. The doctors put me in touch with specialists and we just kind of learned as we went. I like that dress."

Dreama appraised herself in the mirror. "I do, too."

She changed back into her street clothes and emerged. They went to the counter, paid, and then lef the store and headed for a little coffee shop.

"Mrs. Gable, can I ask you something?" Dreama wondered when they were sitting at a table.

"Of course."

"Let's say Taylor and I at some point in the very, very distant future decide that we want to have kids. What are the chances that they'll be sick, too?"

"Unfortunately, very high. It all depends on you."

"Oh."

"Dreama, if you're a carrier, there's no doubt."

"Can I find out?"

"Absolutely." Mrs. Gable fixed her with an odd look. "Have you and Taylor talked about this?"

"Definitely not!" Dreama laughed. "I was with someone before who wanted to marry me, and I was freaked. I don't want marriage or kids before college, when I can afford to support that kind of lifestyle."

"That's good. You're young, and I hear you're quite talented."

"Really?"

"Taylor talks about you a little more than he would like me to admit. He says you're interested in going to Julliard."

"Interested--not seriously considering. I could never afford tuition, let alone rent, on my own."

"Joshua has a flat in New York that he uses for a week a year."

"How many houses do you own?" Dreama cried.

Mrs. Gable laughed. "Just the one. Joshua rents the two apartments through work, and he lets the clients that he wants to butter up use them as vacation spots."

"God."

"If you got in, I'm sure something could be worked out."

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition."

"Like I said, he only uses it for a week a year. It would hardly cause trouble."

"It's nice of you to offer, but even if I could get another audition, I could never afford to go. It's okay--I've got backups. Besides, for once I'm actually happy at home. I don't want to leave that right now."

"You know, Taylor's had to give up a lot because of his disease. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to do the same."

*~*~*

Taylor was buttoning up his shirt when Dreama stepped through the door with her bags, feeling cleaner and more relaxed than she ever had.

"Hey! You guys are so late. How was your day?" Taylor asked.

"Gorgeous," Dreama sighed, laying the dress out on the bed.

"Good. Any bonding?"

Dreama laughed. "Plenty." She shed her clothing and slipped into the dress. "Zip me up."

Taylor trailed his fingers down her spine as he reached for the zipper, and Dreama shivered.

"What did you guys talk about?"

"You, mostly."

"Seriously?" He made a face. "That sucks."

"Ah, it wasn't so bad."

She turned to show off the dress, and Taylor gave her an approving once-over. "I like it," he said.

"Good." She held out her hand. "Take me dancing."

*~*~*

It was three o'clock in the morning when Taylor pulled Dreama off to the side.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"I'm having fun."

"But I had something planned for us," he wheedled.

"You can't leave your own party."

"No one will even notice we're gone. Please?"

Dreama sighed, but she couldn't deny that she wanted to go with him. Taylor took her hand and led her out the door, down a long flight of stone steps, and onto a dock on the water.

"Where are we going?"

"My dad's boat."

"Three houses and a boat. Taylor, I want your family."

"Good." He pulled her onto a yacht, and led her below the deck.

Dreama was stunned. It was like a house on water, with rooms that were almost the same size as the ones in her apartment.

"Can we just live here?" she asked, only half joking.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

He pulled her into a bedroom, and before she could say a word he was undoing the zipper on her dress.

"Taylor!"

"What?"

"You could try slowing down for a second."

"I don't feel like it. Take your shoes off."

"Now that I will gladly do."

She sat on the edge of the bed and removed her heels, while Taylor unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the floor.

Dreama stood and walked over to him, trailing her fingers over the brownish birth-mark on his side.

"Are you ever going to really tell me what this is?" she asked.

"What are you talking about? It's a birthmark."

She raised an eyebrow. "Taylor, birthmarks don't have scar tissue."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head and silenced him with a kiss. "It's okay. But I want to know someday."