Fangs Or Diamonds

*Note: This is no way meant as an insult to Twilight fans or the series. (I liked the books alright, even if I prefer the oldschool, traditional vampires. 'Sides, all writing has its flaws.) It is merely writing of highly sugar-induced content, created last year. Of course, the credit goes in part to my lovely "twin" for her gorgeous Frenchman, but the insane one is all mine. I hope the laughs run as freely as the confused stares. Also, each break signals a change of view.

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New York city's fine boulevards were crowded. The blood scent was thick in the air, excited humans running to and fro over their nighttime activities. Lamps lit the streets bright as day, flourescent lights in the corner cafes giving their own surreal glow to their patrons. Seated at a high table in the window of one such cafe was a young man, not quite eighteen yet. He graced the scene in a white dress shirt, buttoned except for a slight gap at the throat to expose the moonlight pale skin, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A black satin tie was looped around his neck, loosely tied, falling into his lap. Black leather decorated slight arms, dull spikes set in them. Black Tripp jeans with red stitching and silver chains hung low on his hips, no belt in sight. Motorcycle boots added a tiny bit to his height of five foot four. Mahoghany hair fell to his shoulders, framing the delicate, almost feminine face of the Frenchman perfectly. A black fedora pinstriped in gray slipped down over one eye. One booted foot was hooked around the empty chair to his right, the other dangling lifelessly. Left ar was hooked around the back of his chair, long fingers absolutely still. Right arm was laid on the flat, hidden stomach, pale fingers striking against the black of the tie. His posture was immobile, a statue carved simply to decorate the corner table. It was as though Death had taken the teen as he waited for his coffee, the onset of rigor mortis to be blamed for the stiffness of his limbs. More than one concerned look was given his way; until, that was, he turned a blue eye to the street.

Edward Cullen had found his way into New York through the attempts of insulting the Volturi again, dancing in the sunlight and calling them scaredy-cat diamonds for not showing off their glittering success by plastering on dozens of sparkles. Bella had been too perfect again, and he'd had to set off to leave her with Renesmee and Jacob; the perfect, sick family. Finally happening upon a vampire's scent, the jean and black shirt clad dad diammond headed for the cafe. Tugging the door open, his head bowed, bronze eyes darting about in what he hoped was a menacing manner. Finally going to the table, he seated himself without any polite pretext. "Why're you in our territory? This is the Cullens' land. Forks, Washington." He shook his head, boots cocking onto the table. "We don't like meat... or eaters in these parts." Grabbing a french fry from a plate that was wafting by on a tray, he used it to comb his locks back into greasy disarray.

Blue eyes swiveled to the intruder, narrowing as the elder vampire gave a quiet sigh. "This is not Washington, idiot," he grumbled, French accent obvious. "Has the animal blood you stink of corrupted your sense of place?" He didn't move other than to fix an annoyed glare on the newcomer.

"Yes, it is! We've got all the hills, mud, and neighborly people. I know everyone in this town." He looked to the waitress, nodding. "Hey, Sally!" He called, grinning crookedly and waving. She only rolled her eyes, badge obviously stating 'Marilyn'. "It wasn't animal blood! It was pig blood." He snarled up his nose, making clucking noises like an ostrich.

"Do you, monsieur? Then certainly you must know me by name," he challenged, gaze wandering out to the flat, dirty street trampled by the teeming masses. "Pigs? Then I suppose you are in the right element..." Eyebrow raised at the odd noises; he had accepted his own madness. But this man made it all seem trivial.

"Yeah, I know you, Elizabeth. You wanted to eat Bella, and I killed you in the first act of Shakespeare's Notre Dame." Edward peered out the window, practically laying overtop Latrieze to get to it. "SEE! There's some lovely brooks!" He pointed to the moving cars. "Ah, the sweet sound of water." Edward straightened, popping the now hairy fry up a nostril of his nose.

"You're not even close," stated the Frenchman, now seriously alarmed and confused by the intruder at his table. Cold palm was laid on the other's chest to practically throw him back into his own seat. "What, pray tell, is wrong with you? Aside from the obvious." Disgusted look was given to the fry up the nose, leaning back with both hands now on the table, to escape if the need arose.

"Nothing's wrong with me. Bella wanted to lead Jacob on again for a month. So, I said I'd go dance in the sunlight, but the sunlight is only where she is." He shook his head, snorting so the fry flew free, hitting a man in the back of the head. "Score!" He sing-songed, jumping up and shaking his rear. "But I know you, Elizabeth. You just want my Hershey bar, and you can't have it!"

"My name is Latrieze," the vampire snarled, lowering his head to the table, hands clasping over the back of his head. "Not Elizabeth. Now sit still and quit making a spectacle of yourself," he ordered, sitting up again with a more calm composure. "Would you mind, first of all, why you stink of beast?"

"You mean you're the black guy that had the long hair not too long ago?" Edward looked stunned, mouth slightly agape as he reseated himself. "I don't reek of beast. I'm a scared, vegetarian lion. I smell of flowers and rose petals. It's my new scent. Don't you just love it?" He drawled, flipping a hand and batting his lashes.

"What are you talking about?" An exasperated Latrieze pushed his fedora back slightly, nose wrinkling at the mental of a vegetarian. "No wonder you're absolutely insane. Drinking animal blood - and what did the animal do to you?" Head tilted to one side, blue eyes flashing - in one color, that is.

"The guy that was with Jamison and Elizeburtha." Edward nodded quickly, grinning widely. "It... It made me prefer animals to my own wife, sir." He stammered out the sentence slowly, gulping. "They just dominate you in such a way that can't be done by wife that can carry on forever."

Latrieze was silent. Insane didn't seem to cover it quite right. "All... right then," he murmured, adjusting the fedora on his dark hair again. "Who did you say you were again?"

"Edward Yankovick Masen Cullen. K-W-UV," He nodded, attempting to spell out his last name and grinning broadly. "Hey, anyone got a uv ray? I wanna show off my diamonds!" He giggled, spinning his chair around on one leg until he fell over busting his forehead on another table. "MMM, BLOOD!" Getting a napkin to dab at it, he scarfed it down after, paper bits clinging to his lips.

Thin lips repeated the letters his guest spouted, confusion ever so obvious. Head shook at the mention of diamonds, again confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand. UV rays should destroy you." He wanted to ask why the nnapkin had been gobbled, but it came back to him; animal blood wasn't that satisfying.

"No, the sun is my friend." Getting a flashlight, he turned it on, putting it right up to his eye and closing the other so he was staring wide eyed into it. "See? Friend!" He nodded, ripping his shirt open and patting his man-chest. Leaning into Latte as he did so, the man smiled. "Do I dazzle you?" He keened like a hyenaa, thrusting out his stomach like a beer belly.

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The End. For Now.