Title: A Visit
Fandom: Vampire: The Masquerade: L.A. By Night
Rating: G
Length: ~ 950
Author notes: Written for the prompt Favorite.
Summary: Sheriff Ib visits Baron Temple at the club.

The music is booming. Victor likes it best when he can feel it in his dead bones, lights flashing across the dance floor where the crowd is moving as one chaotic being with way too many limbs. It's the music, the crowd, the whispers and excitement, the adoring looks he gets whenever someone sees him moving past, as he glides along the railings of the upper levels that invigorates him. He smiles at random guests, watches carefully how kindred mingle with mortals, how thin-bloods dare to relax among the crowd, passing easily between the groups.

Club Maharani is open to them all but only the creatures of the night will know that Victor isn't just the celebrity – but the Baron of the Valley and his club is open to all in his domain.

In fact, it's open to all the other barons too, as Nelli is coming by and even Nines indicated he would drop in for a talk later and if he comes he's likely bringing Marc. That is why Victor's keeping an eye out.

Smiling amiably he retreats towards the offices, waiting for the first call of the night.

He's not surprised when his phone rings in his suit pocket and it's Campbell. “Campbell, everything quiet?”

“So far,” the man replies in his usual pragmatic way that Victor relies upon.

“But?” he asks, hearing the pause.

“Miss Ib is here to see you, sir.”

“At the front door? Send her in,” he says, surprised but never one to turn away Ib – even when his mind races through all possible reasons why the Camarilla sheriff could have business at Club Maharani. How can you tell if your Camarilla friend is here on Ivory Tower business or just visiting an Anarch friend at their club? Victor had a feeling it would never be an easily answered question. Because what in this life of kindred kind wasn't about well-founded paranoia – even more so when you were actually on opposing sides?

“Back door, sir.”

“Let her in, of course,” he repeats. The back door likely means Ib doesn't want to be seen. Which is good. Right? That's good. It means she doesn't want her snotty-nosed court friends to know that she's here, which means they didn't send her to kill him.

And there's peace, right?

Damn it. He wishes Anabelle were here to reassure him this is Ib, their friend. But Anabelle had her own trust issues to sort out these days and he needs to find her and sit her down to talk about what happened with X.

They are all damned by the night's curse.

Victor can hear Ib chatting with Campbell as they walk up the stairs. They're chuckling as he opens the office door for her. “I remember,” she says and Victor knows they're talking about him, about the job she used to do here once upon a time only a short time and yet such a long time ago.

She wears a back dress and a long leather coat – it's posh enough to be the new Ib and yet close enough to old Ib that he can't help but like it.

“Ib,” he says and opens his arms. “Looking good.”

“Victor,” she says and this time it's only a moment of hesitation before they meet in a hug that perhaps goes on a little longer than both of them plan to.

Campbell closes the door and leaves them without having to be told to go. He's smart like that.

“I hear Chocolate Drop has a new album in the works,” Ib says without ending the hug.

“Oh, yes! Yes, it's going to be amazing. Crown of Candy. You heard it here first.” He makes it sound boisterous and cheerful.

“Good name,” she says and laughs. “No ideas why people like it but it will sell I'm sure.”

“I'm sure and that's what counts,” he reminds her with a grin. He's running a business here after all. “But I assume you didn't just come by to ask about Temple of Boom talent.”

Ib smiles, saddened, nostalgic – and simply beautiful. “Can't a friend just visit a friend and hang out?”

“Any time,” he says quickly. “You can hang with me any time, girl.”

And he means it. Even if he fears it will kill either of them one day – when this fragile peace falls apart.

---

He looks after her as she leaves and Campbell stands at his shoulder watching her with the same slightly sad expression.

“We all miss her, sir.”

“We do,” Victor says. For a while, after she's been gone, he felt like someone had cut off his right arm. Ib had taken care of everything for him. But more than losing a trusted employee, a capable ghoul, he'd felt like someone had taken his best friend away, someone who was as important to him as his coterie.

Victor Tempel is no coward but he shies away from figuring out what that meant exactly - why that hole she left in his life can't be filled.

“She was always your favorite.” Campbell says it with a smile, not the least bit offended either.

Victor smirks back and then pats his shoulder. “Don't lie. She was yours too. And I still got you. You can tell all of the guys you're the favorite now. You're doing good work.”

Campbell shakes his head. “Sure, sir.”

He can't know how complicated things had always been, how complicated they would forever be from now on. But Ib was still Ib, Victor was still Victor – and for better or worse he still cherished having her in this unlife they now share.