Date:         Wed, 12 Jun 1996 19:43:19 -0400 
Subject:      All in The Family: Author's Notes

 Greetings and salutations, all! As a newcomer to the fic list, I have a few 
trepidations about posting...but I always have been the first one to jump into 
a cold pool. So...

All in the Family was started about two weeks after I first started watching 
"Forever Knight" in the middle of the second season, and was finished 
somewhere around the middle of the third season. Therefore, Nick's partner is 
still Schanke, Cohen is still the captain, and Nat wasn't quite so ready to 
give up on Nick. (Thanks to season three, I was provided with the police 
commissioner's name...Vetter. <g>)

Also, this is merely a rough draft. I could revise and revise, but I just 
don't have the time...I have the sequel to this story in the works, as well as 
a half-dozen X-Files, Highlander, and crossover stories going, so this is 
merely a finished rough draft. I have tried to eliminate most typos; grammar 
has always been a strong suit of mine, but I have not checked this document 
for accuracy...

DANGER WILL ROBINSON!! Well, I better tell you now that this is very 
definitely an N&N story, though not as many would think; the plot basically 
deals with the mystery -- like in the series -- with the N&N subplot....

The Perry Mason stuff:

The characters of Nick Knight, Nat Lambert, Don Schanke and crew belong to 
Sony/Tri-Star Pictures/Paragon Enterainment. The Archers and Beckers are 
figments of my imagination, and should not resemble --  in whole or in part -- 
any other persons living or dead. Any such resemblance is entirely 
coincidental!

(See, that semester spent at the law library paid off! <g>) All responses can 
be sent to nknight@mindspring.com. Flames will be dutifully ignored. <g>

I apologize ahead of time if there is a formatting problem!

Heather DeLong AKA: NatKnight

Nick&NatPacker with Cousinly tendencies... 
"In Love and Faith There is Forever"

 Chapters 1-4.

Disclaimer: See Author's notes.

All in the Family 
A Forever Knight Fan Fiction Piece 
Written by: Heather DeLong

Chapter 1

The employee parking lot of the coroner's office was virtually deserted as 
Natalie Lambert crossed from the back door of the building to her car. The 
yellow light from the streetlamp above her car had attracted its usual share 
of bugs, endlessly beating against the glass to reach the light. Her feet 
clicked against the dry pavement, echoing in the silence that surrounded her. 
It was a lonely feeling, being the last to leave that night...even the 
lightening was without thunder as it strobed across the sky. Sighing, she 
reached into her purse and withdrew her keychain.

"Natalie."

Startled, Natalie turned. Behind her, Nick Knight had materialized from 
nowhere, his long, black coat still around him; she doubted that he had 
changed since he had gotten off shift several hours earlier. She gave a sigh 
of relief, then smacked him on the arm. "Don't do that to me!"

Nick shrank back in an attempt at feigned terror. He knew that Natalie could 
never hurt him..."I'm sorry!" he cried. "I thought you would hear me!"

Natalie looked hurt. "Well, I was a little preoccupied." She recovered her 
composure. "Did you get my report on the Allan autopsy?"

"Yes, I did, and I thank you. You saved Schanke and I a lot of leg work." He 
stuck his hands in his pockets. "Look, I have a few hours until daybreak, so I 
thought that we could go and rent a movie, then camp out at your place for the 
day."

Natalie gave a smile. "Sounds great. I was just wondering what I would do with 
the rest of the night, myself. But no sappy romance movies...I want something 
with a little kick tonight."

Nick opened her driver's side door, allowing her to seat herself. "I agree. 
Perhaps Interview with the Vampire?"

"Nick---!" With a grin, he closed her door, shutting in her reply. He then 
walked around the back of the car and took his place in the passenger's seat.

"You know, Nick, you can have a sense of humor about this, but I have a hard 
time seeing it as funny," Natalie commented. She slipped her key into the 
ignition.

"Nat, I have to have a sense of humor; I have to be able to laugh at 
myself...elsewise, I would stab myself with a stake." He cleared his throat. 
"So, which movie tonight?"

The sound of two pagers in action interrupted Natalie as she opened her mouth 
to speak. She took hers from the waistband of her skirt, Nick taking his from 
the pocket of his coat. They turned to one another. "Raincheck," they said 
simultaneously.         

******

"...So when you came up here to put your storage boxes into the attic, that 
was when you discovered the body?" Schanke was standing next to a young woman, 
notepad in hand, clad in his usual suit and trench coat.

The young woman knotted her white handkerchief around her fingers; it was 
approximately the same shade of pale as her face. She nodded. "Yes. Alec 
discovered her...hanging there...when he brought up the books."

"And you had no idea what was up here when you first inherited the house?"

"No. None."

Nick placed a hand against Natalie's back as they crossed the expansive attic 
to join Schanke and the young woman. They had noticed the foul smell of old 
death hanging in the stagnant attic air. "Hi, Schanke," he said. "What's the 
latest?"

"This is Tara Becker." Both Natalie and Nick nodded a hello to the young 
woman. "About two weeks ago she and her husband, Alec, inherited the house 
from" --- he looked down at his notes --- "an Uncle Stewart. They started 
moving in today, and found the body when they were packing a few things into 
the attic."

"We had also noticed a rather unpleasant smell in the bedroom below. We had no 
idea..." Tara added.

"Do you have any idea how long this 'Uncle Stewart' had lived here?" Nick 
asked. He had entered into his detective mode, and Natalie could almost see 
the wheels turning in his mind.

Again, Tara shook her head. "I do know that the house was empty for some time 
before it was transferred to us. There was some dispute over the inheritance, 
which tied it up for several months."

"Can you tell us anything more about it?"

Mrs. Becker shook her head. "No. I'm afraid that my husband handled the whole 
affair."

 Nick passed a look to Schanke. Their instincts were screaming to them: Mrs. 
Becker was holding something back. And both doubted that she would give any 
further information. Schanke stuffed his notepad back into his coat pocket. 
"Thank you, Mrs. Becker."

The three excused themselves, crossing over to the opposite side of the room. 
There, hanging in a noose from the rafter, was the partially-decomposed body 
of a woman, still clad in her tattered clothing, her shoes lying on the floor 
below her feet. There were splatterings of blood about the clothes and the 
shoes; there was no trace of a stool or chair from which she could have hung 
herself.

Immediately, Natalie went to work. She slipped her hands into a pair of latex 
gloves, examining the remaining skin and clothes. "She's been here a while, 
that much is obvious. I can give you a definite time once I get her into the 
lab." Nat shook her head, her eyes betraying her strength. "But this noose 
_definitely_ was not the cause of death."

"Which would explain our presence," Nick said. He signaled for the crew to 
remove the body to the coroner's lab. With quick efficiency, they took the 
body and had it in the coroner's van in a matter of moments.

 Chapter 2               "Every family has a secret or two locked away. Only 
when it threatens to shove its way out does it ever become a skeleton. A horse 
thief in the family tree; a gold digger discovered too late; or even an 
illegitimate child or two...Do you have a secret tucked away, itching to get 
out? Perhaps you should not allow someone to poke into your private life...."

Grabbing his remote control from the sofa next to him, Nick pointed to the 
stereo unit across the room, and switched off the power. LaCroix was being 
particularly enigmatic tonight, tossing such questions out to his listening 
audience....and depressing Nick. Of course, LaCroix was often depressing. But 
the fact that he should have other plans with Natalie was not helping matters.

"Nick?"

Turning, he saw Natalie standing in the doorframe of the loft. She was wearing 
her thick wool coat, carrying a bag from the local video store and a bag of 
popcorn. She held up the bag, slipping out of her coat. As it slid off her 
back, it revealed her tee-shirt and matching sweatpants -- her casual attire. 
"Hope you don't mind, but I thought we might catch that movie after all."

Nick rose from his seat, crossing to her. He helped her out of her coat, 
taking the bags from her. He peered into the bag of movies. "Which ones did 
you get?"

Natalie smiled, following him back over to the couch. "Well, I got the best of 
what was left at four in the morning." She seated herself next to him. "I 
think _Ed Wood_, _Age of Innocence_, and _Interview With the Vampire_. A 
little gothic, but after that scene tonight, I seem to be feeling that way."

"Couldn't sleep, eh?"

Nat shook her head. "No. That poor woman had been hanging there for years, 
Nick, _years_, and no one had bothered to cut her down." She closed her eyes, 
leaning against Nick's shoulder. "I just need some company."

Nick wrapped his arm around Nat's shoulders. "I know, Nat," he said, his voice 
almost a whisper. He smiled. "Which movie should we attack first?"

Eventually, they settled on _Ed Wood_, deciding they needed a lighter 
atmosphere...despite Martin Landau's moody portrayal of Bela Lugosi <Which it 
was about time he won an Oscar!!! -- EKJ>. A few moments into the movie, Nat 
leaned her head against Nick; she felt as though her eyelids were dead 
weights. Within a few more moments, she had fallen asleep.

Nick squeezed her shoulders, kissing her atop her chestnut hair. She needed 
the peace; he knew that she had been shaken up from the homicide scene that 
night -- he had been able sense it. The bond between them remained strong, 
despite LaCroix's determination to destroy it.

Sadness crept into his eyes, reality croaching in on him once again. Natalie 
was still a mortal...and Nick's personal code forbid his bringing her across 
simply to satisfy his own cravings. Disgust turned his senses as he thought of 
all the things which his immortality cost him. The sun, the taste of fine 
foods, and  his love for Natalie. Ironically, it was because of this 
immortality that he now held Natalie to him, over eight hundred years after 
his birth. He sighed and, reaching for the remote control once again, he 
switched off the power to the entertainment center. Then, very carefully, he 
lifted Natalie off of the sofa and carried her to his bed. Tucking her in, he 
resigned himself to the couch for the remainder of the day.         

******

 Chapter 3

Waking, groggy, Nick glanced at his watch. It was almost ten, and almost time 
for shifts to begin. Natalie had slept soundly through the day; he had barely 
moved on the sofa. Tossing back his make-shift bedcovers, he went directly to 
the kitchen, opening the left hand door. Taking out a bottle, he poured a 
liberal amount of blood into his black coffee cup. He took a sip, then tied 
his deep red robe tighter around his waist.

"Hey! Nick! Wakey, wakey, partner!" The voice of his partner, Don Schanke, 
echoing through the loft. "Time for the night shift to reconvene in less than 
an hour!"

"Schanke," Nick said, his voice low as he rounded from the refrigerator, "I'm 
in the kitchen. There's no need to shout."

"So you are, buddy," Schanke said. He leaned against the counter. folding his 
arms. "I got the run down on the Beckers this morning from Vera -- She's very 
good at her job, by the way..."

Pulling out his notebook, Schanke flipped several pages, then began reading 
his scribbled notes. "It seems that Uncle Stewey and Mister Charles Becker 
were the only sons of an Old Money family right here in River City." He 
glanced at his notes. "The father died, leaving everything to the sons." 
"Which was the oldest?"

"Charles Becker...Alec's father was the oldest. Being such, he inherited the 
most. But Stewart got the old family home upon the death of their mother."

"So the elder Becker is still alive?"

Schanke nodded. "You got it."

"Now the question is, did he know about the woman left hanging in the attic?" 
Schanke looked past Nick, seeing Nat walking down the stairs. "And if not, 
maybe he has some theories about who she was."

"Nat?" Schanke asked. He passed a glance from Nick, to Natalie, then back 
again. He gave a grin. "Should I have called first?"

Natalie shook her head. "No, Schank. I simply fell asleep watching a movie." 
She smiled. "Besides, Nick and I are both decent. No need to call."

Nick opened the refrigerator. "I managed to procure a few things for you to 
eat," he told Natalie. "Just because I am on a special diet doesn't mean that 
you have to be."

Nat smiled, looking to Nick. "Thank you. At the moment, your diet doesn't 
sound too appealing." Schanke caught the slight hint of mischief dancing in 
her eyes.

"That's it! I'm outta here!" Schanke rose, tossing his hands into the air. "If 
you two are gonna stand around, talking breakfast, and passing eyes at one 
another, I'm outta here! See you at the precinct!"

"Schank!" Nick called after him, but was too late. He had closed the elevator 
door to the loft and was on his way out. "Well, how much you want to bet the 
whole precinct knows you were here last night by the time we get there?"

"Why bet on a losing horse?" Nat grinned and took a bite of an apple.



Chapter 4

"Thank you for seeing me, Mrs. Becker. I know that you are busy trying to get 
settled in." Nick tucked his coat underneath him as he seated himself on the 
sofa opposite Tara Becker's chair.

"It's quite all right, Detective Knight," Tara said. She poured herself a cup 
of coffee. "I wanted an excuse to take a break...I was putting a few things 
into the attic...."

In her hands, the tea cup rattled against the saucer as she visibly shook. 
Setting the cup down on the coffeetable, she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, 
then released it. Opening her eyes, she took the cup in hand again. "I'm 
sorry," she said, smiling apologetically. "Would you like a cup?"

Nick shook his head. "No thank you. I was hoping, however, that you might have 
_some_ idea as to who the mystery woman could have been."

"Quite truthfully, Detective, I can't really offer any suggestions," Tara 
answered. "The Becker family has been an outstanding family in the Toronto 
area for many generations. I have a hard time believing that one of them could 
have committed this crime...and left her there."

Nick leant forward, resting his weight on his elbows, propped against his 
knees. "I realize that. For all that we know, that body could have been placed 
there only a few days ago by someone breaking into the house; we still haven't 
gotten the coroner's report. But I still need to investigate every angle."

Taking a sip of her coffee, Tara hesitated. She looked at Knight appraisingly. 
Apparently deciding he was worth confiding in, she set aside her coffee. "Many 
years ago, when I first entered the family, I heard rumours about a young 
woman who had been involved with Stewart. She had been several years his 
junior, and that alone was enough to cause a scandal in their social circle; 
but still, Stewart insisted on seeing her. This went on for several months. He 
appeared to be happy, and she did, too. They went to the theatre, to the 
opera; they were seen about town to the family's horror. Then, one night, she 
and Stewart had a violent disagreement. She fled the house, leaving him 
fuming. It was the last that the family ever saw of the young woman."

Nick furrowed his brow. "How did Stewart react?"

"The typical male," she said, forcing a smile. "Apparently, he was quite angry 
with himself for not smoothing things out. It was after the argument that he 
tried to reach her, only to find that she had already left town."

"And the girl?"

Tara shrugged. "The family wrote her off as another gold digger and went about 
their business," she answered. "Detective, if you are looking for a suspect 
among the Beckers, you have a long list. The family is close-knit, and all of 
them were worried about this woman's impact on their reputation."

"Of course," she added, "the family lawyer will have a lot more information 
about this matter than I will."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, the reason that we were held up in receiving the home was due to a 
claim against Stewart's will -- supposedly the daughter of the younger woman," 
Tara said. "After a few months, the matter was dropped and I haven't heard 
anything further about it."

Nick rose to leave. "I appreciate your being so candid, Mrs. Becker," he said. 
"Thank you for the information."

Tara Becker smiled. "I only hope that my information helps you. I'm sure that 
my husband will be fully willing to cooperate with you once he returns from 
his business trip."

"I hope so." With this, Nick nodded slightly to her and was shown the way out 
by the maid.                                                                         
**** ****************

Chapters 5 - 10

Disclaimer: See Author's Notes.

All in the Family A Forever Knight Fan Fiction Piece    =20 Written by: 
Heather DeLong

Chapter 5 

Natalie stood next to the workstation, hovering over her latest client -- or 
what remained of her. The amount of deterioration was bad, made worse by the 
obvious rodent marks on the woman's remaining skin and clothes. She had been 
beaten: broken ribs; fractured cheekbones and wrists; dislocated shoulder; 
then hung. Her death had been slow, painful, and deliberate -- she had been 
dead from her injuries before she had been hung.

Shaking off another bout of melancholy, Nat removed tissue samples from each 
of her remaining organs, scraping chips from the bone as well. She then 
meticulously placed each onto a separate slide, and labeled them.

There was something about this woman's death which bothered her: the sheer 
violence of her wounds. Whoever had delivered those blows had a relentless 
temper; this could not be a simple "spat." Or, if this had been a "spat," Nat 
doubted she wished to see the result of a full-fledged fight.

"Hiya, Nat," said a voice in her ear. "Got anything new for me?"

Nat looked back over her shoulder at Nick. "How someone could be this brutal 
is eluding me," she answered. She looked at Nick's puzzled expression, then 
handed him her report. "This young lady took quite a thrashing before she 
died."

Nick allowed a low whistle as he read over the report. "It's no wonder why she 
was dead before the noose." He closed the report, tossing it back onto the 
counter. "They were the only causes of death?"

"So far as I can tell," Nat said, peering down through the microscope lenses. 
"I found some odd traces of a chemical remaining in her tissues, but I won't 
have the lab results until tomorrow night."

She looked up at him, taking out the slide and enclosing it into a labeled 
box. "What about you? How did you fare with Mrs. Becker?"

Folding his arms, Nick leant back against the counter. "She was actually quite 
talkative," he said. "She told me about some rumours that she had heard when 
she first married into the family."

"And?" Natalie prompted.

"And, we might have a lead as to her identity," he answered. "Apparently, 
Stewart had been involved with a younger woman -- thought of by the family as 
a gold digger. I'm waiting on a warrant for the lawyer's office. It would seem 
that Stewart might have had an illegitimate daughter."

Natalie gave her usual bemused expression. "Oooh," she said, "another skeleton 
in the closet of Toronto's finest. You know, of course, that Commissioner 
Vetter won't stand for it."

"That's what the warrant is for," Nick replied. "To protect the precinct." He 
smiled. "So, any plans for tonight?"

She glared at him, fighting a smile. "Do I ever have any plans at four in the 
morning that don't concern you?" She laughed as he gave his equivalent of a 
blush to his pallid skin. "What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I thought we might finish watching those movies before we have to take 
them back," he answered, "without falling asleep this time."

"Yeah," Natalie agreed. "Once, Schanke believes us; twice, and there's 
something going on." She grinned.





Chapter 6

"Nick, I'm scared."

Nick glanced down at the young face staring up at him. She gripped his hand 
with what was, for her, Herculean strength as another shock wave of pain went 
through her body, her face distorted in an expression of that pain. "It's all 
right, Anne," he assured her. "Just take it easy."

The younger woman gave a few short breaths, then nodded. "Okay, okay," she 
repeated in a hoarse whisper. "*ARGH*!" She screamed as another pain tore 
through her midsection and lower half of her body.

Whipping his head around, he watched as the nurse crossed the room. The nurse 
reached over and took Anne's pulse, then looked to Nick. "How far apart are 
the contractions?"

"Only a few moments at the most," Nick answered.

The nurse nodded. "I'll go and get the doctor," she said. Quickly, she bustled 
off into the hallway.

"Nick," said Anne, winded, "tell me again why I did this?"

"Because you loved him, and you wanted to marry him when he came back to you," 
Nick answered. It was the storage answer, the one that he gave her every rough 
moment of her pregnancy. He watched, helpless, as she gave in to another 
contraction.

He allowed his mind to drift, calling to mind the familiar face of the young 
man who should be here in his place. Mitchell. Mitchell Ames. He could recall 
the All-American aura which Mitch had exuded, even when he and Nick had signed 
up for the Korean Effort. Mitch had felt it was his duty, as an American to 
sign up; Nick had merely been feeling restless.

He thought back to the wonderful times that he had enjoyed, just the three of 
them: Mitchell, Anne, and himself. Trips to amusement parks, those terrible 
Halloween pranks they had talked him into, and late nights at the all-night 
diner. Together, Mitch and Anne had been the happiest mortal couple that Nick 
had seen.

Then, he and Mitch had been shipped out to the front lines, working covert 
operations, cloaked in the darkness. They had made a real difference in the 
war effort, all their spy games. One night, though, things had not gone well. 
One night, he and Mitchell had been captured.

And before Nick could leap into action, Mitch was dead. Shot.

The guilt never seemed to end...

Feeling another tight squeeze on his hand and an accompanying grunt, Nick was 
jarred out of his reverie. Behind him, the doctor rushed it with the team of 
nurses.

"Sir, I'll have to ask you to leave," said the head nurse.

Nick nodded. "Anne, you take it easy," he said, working his hand free from her 
grip. "I'll be right outside."

"Nick! Please..."

"Right outside, Anne..."

Within a few moments of stepping out into the corridor, the door shut behind 
him, he could hear the wails of a newborn baby.

 Chapter 7               Grace entered the lab, carrying a large, brown 
envelope and the box that Natalie had sent to the lab for testing earlier 
yesterday. She looked around the blue-green tiled room, finding Nat nowhere in 
sight.  "Natalie?"

Jumping to a standing position from behind her desk, Natalie whirled her 
attention to Grace. She gave a sigh. "People seem to have this knack for 
making me jump..." she murmured to herself. "What is it?"

Grace crossed the room, then handed Nat the envelope and box. "Those results 
on the tissue samples you sent in yesterday," she answered. "I don't know what 
you told them in the lab, but that was the fastest I have ever seen them turn 
things around."

Nat grimaced. She opened the envelope scanning over the analysis charts. "They 
were told that it involved the Beckers," she said absently. "Politics." Her 
eyes fell on an unusual substance no that had been found in the tissues: 
Haldol. She checked the percentage. A _large_ amount of Haldol.

She looked up. "Thanks, Grace."

"Sure, Natalie. Tell Nick I said hello," she grinned.

Nat gave a short laugh. "I will Grace." She watched Grace leave, then looked 
back to the analysis charts. Haldol was used for psychotic cases, but not in 
this large amount; according to the results table, there was enough of it in 
this woman's system to kill that proverbial elephant.

Pursing her lips, she flipped to the comments page. So, more than likely, the 
girl was near dead from poisoning even when the beating had taken place. Nat 
shook her head. Someone had been very thorough.

"...A formulation of Haldol not encountered before," she read aloud. "Possibly 
experimental." Things were getting "curiouser and curiouser" to her. Why be 
sure? What was she hiding? What was the killer trying to hide?

Natalie took a seat at her database terminal and pulled up the pharmaceutical 
files located in the area. Chances were that, if the new formulation were 
experimental, the source would be local. Of course, the poisoning had happened 
so long ago...

...After two hours at the terminal, she had seen the larger portion of the 
local pharmaceutical companies' dossiers, including boards of directors and 
head researchers. Rubbing her eyes, she sighed, then looked at the clock. 
Dinner time. Maybe she should slip out and get something quick to eat.

*Just a few more searches,* Nat thought. She turned her attention back to the 
terminal, clicking in a few new keywords. The results she received were the 
first solid link that had appeared in the case.

She scanned the screen, forgetting about her hunger pains. "Lindsay 
Pharmaceuticals, founded 1919...Taken over in 1937 by Catherine Lindsay, and 
turned over to her husband _Edward Becker_," Nat read aloud. She ran her 
fingers along the lines of text until another familiar name popped up. 
"Charles Becker, residing CEO; Alec Becker, Vice President."

Tapping in another search phrase, Nat cross-referenced Haldol with the name 
Lindsay Pharmaceuticals. "...Attempted new formulation of Haldol to reduce 
strength, while maintaining the affects of the higher dosage."

The pieces were clicking together. Grabbing the phone, Natalie dialed Captain 
Cohen's office.

 Chapter 8               "Detective Knight? I didn't think that I was paying 
my officers enough to attend such charity functions as this," said the 
familiar voice of Commissioner Vetter.

Nick turned to face the commissioner. "Actually, I was left an inheritance 
several years ago, and I donate every year," he explained. "It seems that the 
fight against cancer is a worthy one." He smiled. "And I didn't think that the 
commissioner earned enough to enjoy these gala events, either."

Vetter cracked a smile. "It's all in the appearance, Detective. I have to 
_look_ important," he said with a laugh. He looked over Nick's shoulder. "Now 
here is a man with true importance to this community, Knight. Detective Nick 
Knight, I'd like you to meet Charles Becker. Mister Becker, this is Detective 
Knight. He is investigating the case of that poor young woman found in your 
brother's house."

Turning, Nick watched as an elderly man of about eighty took a position next 
to him. The man extended a wrinkled hand in greeting. "It is nice to meet you, 
Detective," he said. "Commissioner Vetter tells me that you and your partner 
make quite a difference."

"We try," was all Nick could manage. He detested old money families, and the 
brown-nosing that the social circles required. It was an acquired distaste, 
after years of experience.

A shrill, electronic ring broke an uncomfortable silence. Reaching into the 
inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket, Vetter removed a small cellular phone. 
"Vetter," he said tersely. "Yes, Captain Cohen. Fine, and you? Good, good. 
What have we found?...Hmm....I see....Yes...I see. Thank you, Captain. Good 
night."

The commissioner flipped off the phone, turning to Nick and the elder Becker. 
"It seems that the coroner on the case has found a link between your 
pharmaceutical company and the dead young woman, Charlie."

Becker raised the bushy white brows over his eyes. "Oh?"

"Dr. Lambert has narrowed the cause of death to a gradual overdose of the 
tranquilizer Haldol," Vetter reported. "And, Charlie, it would seem that your 
company has experimented with the odd form that was used."

"Seems as though we might have a problem on our hands," said Becker. He turned 
as an even younger man with similar features approached the small group. 
"Alec, what happened to our samples of the Haldol formulation that we had been 
working with?"

"We sold off the remainder of the stock to Spears-Dowell," answered Alec. He 
nodded to Nick. "Detective. I am sorry that I missed speaking with you last 
night. I arrived as you were leaving."

Nick extended his hand. "Nick Knight."

The younger Becker shook Knight's hand. "Nice to meet you, Detective. Alec 
Becker." He turned his attention back to his father. "Why would you ask, 
Father? That was years ago."

"It would seem that the young woman found in your attic was poisoned with the 
Lindsay formulation."

Alec pursed his lips, taking in the information. "I take it that we are now 
suspects, Detective?" Nick shook his head. "Of course not, Mister Becker. We 
have nothing concrete...yet." He gave a flash of a smile. "Good night, 
gentlemen, Commissioner Vetter."



 Chapter 9               "...Well, so long as she has the report here, we 
won't have any=  extra paper work to do," Schanke commented as he climbed the 
stairs to the landing, winded. "You know, I really wish they would fix that 
elevator."

"It's only been broken since this morning, Schank," Nick pointed out. He gave 
a smile at this, another one of Schanke's quirks. "I think the landlord will 
have it taken care of before tomorrow night."

"If Natalie went grocery shopping like she said, _how_ did she make it up all 
these stairs?" Schanke placed his hands on his hips as they arrived at 
Natalie's apartment door.

"She's used to it. She doesn't have a man around like Myra does," Nick 
answered. He hoped that the tinge of regret in his voice was not as noticeable 
to Schanke as it was to him. He knocked on the door.

"Nat!" Schanke called. "It's Nick and Schanke!"

After a moment without a response, Nick knocked again. "Nat?" He tuned in his 
higher senses, hearing the rustle of material on the opposite side of the 
door, and footsteps. Reaching for the knob, he turned it, finding it unlocked. 
"Nat?"

Schanke pulled his gun as he entered behind Nick, cautious. He made his way 
toward the bedroom as Nick signaled in that direction with the jerk of his 
head, Nick heading straight into the living room. As he rounded the edge of 
the couch, Nick could feel his stomach turn: Natalie was sprawled across the 
rug, unconscious. "Schank!" he called.

Turning at precisely the right moment, there was a sudden streak  from behind 
the front door as someone rushed out...and Nick was willing to bet that it was 
whomever had done this to Nat. He looked down at her. Her breathing was 
slowing, her heart slowing also. "Go after him! I'll stay here with her."

A skeptical look crossed Schanke's features. "_Go_," Nick hissed, sending 
Schanke on his way.

Nick felt fear grip him for the first time in years as he looked down at Nat. 
She was taking her last breaths, of that he was sure; the intruder had done 
something to cause her untimely death. But was she ready to die? Was he ready 
to _see_ her die? Was he actually contemplating the thing which he dreaded 
most to do?

He looked down at her again. No. Not this way. She couldn't go this way. Not 
without a goodbye. Nick closed his eyes. _Heaven forgive me for what I am 
about to do_, he thought. When he opened them again, they were no longer the 
deep blue which Natalie loved so; they were the yellow eyes of a beast, the 
type which Nick hated. Leaning in, he bit into the tender skin of Natalie's 
neck, and began the process which had created him.

Even through the emotions rushing through him, Nick could taste a taint in the 
blood which he drew from her. _Morphine_, he thought as he broke away, just 
before draining her completely. Cutting his wrist, he placed it to Natalie's 
lips. "_Drink_," he said. As she did, pain gripped at his heart. Natalie was 
becoming the thing that he most hated about himself. He only hoped that she 
could understand...and that she could forgive him....



Schanke climbed the staircase and entered Nat's apartment just as Nick closed 
the bedroom door and stepped into the living room. He looked up at Schanke. 
"Anything?"

"Nada. He got away into the crowd down there at the restaurant on the corner," 
Schanke answered. He nodded toward the bedroom. "How is she?"=7F

"Shaken. He apparently hit her pretty hard to knock her out." He looked to 
Schanke. "Nothing so serious she couldn't treat it herself."

Schanke nodded. "She'll need to make a statement...and we'll need to ask her a 
few questions," he said reluctantly. "Is she up to it?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't think so. She isn't feeling up to her usual 
standards." He looked around. "No signs of a struggle. Apparently she knew who 
it was ---"

"Or didn't know he was here," Schanke interrupted. It was his turn to shake 
his head. "And how much do you want to bet there won't be any fingerprints?"

"You'd win, hands down, Schank." He patted him on the back. "Tell you what: 
I'll take her statement and stay here with her for the night, while you go 
home to Myra."

"So long as we take her statement in with us tomorrow night," Schanke said. 
Nick was thankful that he didn't have to try to make Schanke forget what had 
happened; he was willing to help Natalie as much as possible. Schanke headed 
for the door. "Call me if she needs anything."

"I will, Schank. See you tomorrow." With this, the door behind Schanke closed, 
and the shades were drawn against the approaching sunrise.



 Chapter 10

Natalie awakened, her eyes wide, her senses alert. There was someone in the 
room with her...Someone with blood coursing through his veins. She turned, her 
eyes glowing a bright yellow, her teeth bared. With a flash, she was against 
him, her intentions well known to him.

"Nat!" Nick shouted. He grabbed her by the shoulders, drawing on his super-
natural strength to restrain her. He shoved a green glass bottle into her 
hand. Instinctively, she knew what to do with it; she drained the contents in 
less than a few moments, replacing the empty bottle with yet another full one 
as Nick handed it to her.

Her appetite was normal for one who had been to the brink of death and brought 
across. Nick watched as she drained the second, her hunger only then abating. 
Silently, he hoped that she would not give in to the beast which had consumed 
her brother...and caused Nick to take his life.

As her frenzy slowed, Natalie looked to the bottle. A look of pain and 
confusion crossed her features as she looked to it, then looked to Nick. She 
had remembered what it was; she knew what had happened to her. "Nick...." 
Blood tears began to flow down her=  cheeks.

Nick went to her. "Natalie," he whispered, taking her into his embrace, making 
an effort to comfort her. "Please forgive me. I acted on impulse..." He closed 
his eyes, regretting even more the decision that he had made the night before.

She drew back, her tears having stopped. And anger welled below the surface, 
shining in her now-brown eyes. "Nick, why did you do this?"

"Nat ---" Nick stopped, having trouble finding the words "---I wasn't ready to 
let you go. I didn't want to see you die like that...."

"So you brought me across? You preferred that I _never_ die until someone 
pierces me with a stake?" She pushed away from him, turning her back to him. 
Her voice became a whisper. "Nick, that was selfish."

"Nat, you can't sit there and tell me that you were ready to die!" Nick 
exclaimed. "You can't tell me that there aren't things that you didn't want to 
accomplish before you died? That you wanted whomever did this to you to get 
away with it?"

He could see Natalie shake her head. "No, I wasn't ready to die. And I don't 
want him to get away with it. But he gave me enough morphine to sink a 
ship...he won't be expecting me to live to tell the tale."

"Who was it, Nat?"

She shrugged. "I didn't get a good look at the face. He was well-built, with a 
little stubble on the chin. Apparently, he had picked the lock while I was 
changing. By the time I realized there was someone else here, it was too late. 
He hit me with a syringe."

Nick closed his eyes, then opened them, his gaze fixed on the carpet. "Nat, I 
realize what I did was selfish. If you had been conscious, I would have 
asked...But you weren't. I made that decision for you." He looked up, his eyes 
meeting hers. "I made one mistake already this century, Nat. I---I hope I 
haven't made another."

He turned, heading toward the door. "I'll teach you all that I can. After 
that, I'll leave and you won't have to face me again, nor I face you."

"Nick...wait." Natalie was behind him now, a hand on his shoulder. "I know you 
did what you thought was right...and I can't hold that against you. Just give 
me a little while to adjust."

He turned, taking her hand in his. "I know. And give me a little while to 
regret." With his right hand, he reached up and placed it against the smooth, 
paler skin of her cheek. "I took the one thing which I cherished most in you. 
I hope we can find something to replace it."

She gave a slight smile. "Or find a cure."


Chapter 11

 Using his reflection in the polished doors of the elevator, Schanke self- 
consciously straightened his tie. He was in one of the poshest office 
buildings offered in Toronto, occupied by high-priced attorneys and stock 
brokers. Stepping out into the corridor of the eighth floor, he stopped at the 
reception desk.

"Can I help you?" The woman at the desk glanced over the rim of her glasses at 
him. To Schanke, she looked like the one receptionist that Perry Mason didn't 
want in his office...and the glare she was giving him!

Schanke withdrew his badge from his inside pocket. "Don Schanke, Metro 
Homicide," he said. "I need to speak with Robert Leighton."

"I'm sorry, but Mister Leighton is out for the day," the woman replied. "I'd 
be happy to tell him that you came by."

Schanke shook his head. "No, ma'am. I need to _speak_ with Mister Leighton. 
Don't pull this stuff with me, all right? This is a police investigation. I 
have a warrant in my pocket, but I would prefer that things run smoothly with 
out it."

She grimaced, then picked up the telephone, buzzing Leighton's office. "Mister 
Leighton, there is a homicide officer here to see you...Yes, sir." She hung up 
the receiver. "You'll have to wait a few moments, Officer. Mister Leighton is 
in a meeting with a client."

Schanke gave a sarcastic smile. "Thanks," he said, then flopped into one of 
the over-stuffed chairs in the lobby. He hated having to wing this one. But 
then, it was three in the afternoon and Nick didn't need to irritate his 
allergy to the sun -- were he at work.

Pursing his lips, Schanke shook his head. Nick had spent the night at 
Natalie's, watching over her, being a mother hen. Somehow, he just couldn't 
see it. He shrugged. *Sometimes people surprise you,* he thought.

*But this would be a lot easier with his persuasiveness.* Sighing, he picked 
up a magazine from the mahogany end table. "July," he muttered. "Even these 
high-priced lawyers can't afford new mags!"

"Officer Schanke?"

Schanke looked up, seeing a tall, older man with thinning grey hair standing 
before the receptionist's desk. He rose and crossed to meet the man. "I'm 
Robert Leighton," he said, shaking Schanke's hand. "Shall we talk in my 
office?"

"Sure," Schanke said. He then followed the older man down a long, winding 
path, filled with cubicles, eventually entering a lavishly decorated large 
office -- with a=  view.

Leighton settled into the chair behind his desk, gesturing to the two chairs 
open opposite him. Taking one of these, Schanke pulled his notebook and pencil 
out of his jacket. "Now, Officer, what can I help you with?"

"I understand you handled the probate of Stewart Becker's will a few months 
ago," Schanke prompted.

"Yes, I did. Complicated matter, that." Leighton steepled his fingers before 
himself.

"Now, Mrs. Becker has mentioned that there was a contest against the will, a 
young woman claiming that she was the rightful heir to Stewart's will," 
Schanke continued. "What can you tell me about that?"

"Not a great deal, I am afraid," answered Leighton. "That is privileged 
information."

"Mister Leighton, I have, in this pocket, a warrant for all written documents 
pertaining to the probate and contest of Stewart Becker's will," said Schanke. 
"Now, I am not the lawyer here, and chances are that I could never make heads 
or tails out of that fancy lawyer-speak. I would appreciate anything that you 
could _tell_ me to accompany those records."=7F

Leighton loosened his tie slightly. He wasn't used to dealing with cops, not 
in this format, not in the form of Don Schanke. "The young woman in question 
believed she was the illegitimate child of Mr. Stewart Leighton. It even went 
before the court. Fortunately, she hadn't enough evidence to prove her claim."

"And she was supposed to be the daughter of the woman whom Stewart had a fling 
with in his younger days?" Schanke asked, scribbling a few notes.

Leighton nodded. "The young woman's name was Meghan Archer. She claimed that 
her mother, Moira Archer, had liaisons with Stewart Becker, and that one of 
such liaisons had resulted in her."

"There were no records to support her claim, nor any memories from family 
members of such a girl." He shrugged. "By the time questions of DNA testing 
arose, the young woman had run out of funding."

Schanke finished scribbling, replaced the notepad and pencil back into his 
pocket, then rose. He withdrew the warrant and placed it before Leighton on 
the desk. "This warrant calls for production of all files relating to that 
case and the will of Stewart Becker." He smiled. "I'd appreciate your boxing 
it all up for me."

 Chapter 12

Nick hovered protectively near Natalie as the forensics team carefully went 
about their work. Flashbulbs flared as the photographers snapped images of the 
scene -- which had remained untouched -- and other members dusted for prints, 
as well as interviewed neighbors. He placed a hand against her lower back. 
"You all right?" he whispered.=7F

Looking up at him, she nodded, pursing her lips. "It's a lot harder than I 
thought," she said, "but I am managing." She grimaced. "Now I know what you go 
through."

He squeezed her shoulders. "It gets easier with age," he promised. He only 
hoped that she proved him right. If anything went wrong -- if she lost her 
control for even a moment -- not only could she be found out, but she might 
never regain control. And Natalie would be lost. Forever.

"Uh oh," Natalie muttered under her breath. "Don't look now, but here comes 
trouble."

Nick looked up, finding his captain, Amanda Cohen, striding across the 
apartment, weaving her way through the forensics team. "Knight, Dr. Lambert," 
she started, "I want to know why forensics wasn't notified of this 
immediately."

"It's my fault, Captain," both chimed in at the same time. It was Nat who 
continued. "I asked Nick not to call them," she answered, finding her voice. 
"I didn't think I could handle all of those people around. Not after a scare 
like that."

Cohen pursed her lips. "I don't like it," she said. "Has anything been 
tampered with?"

"Not to my knowledge, Captain," Nick replied. "After Natalie came to, I 
escorted her to her room. While she tended to herself, I talked to Schanke. We 
agreed it was in her best interests to spare the stress, so I volunteered to 
stay here and take her statement when she felt up to it."

"There aren't any signs of a struggle," Cohen noted. "Can you tell me what 
happened?"

Natalie nodded. "I had stopped off to buy a few groceries and, because the 
elevator was out of order, I had to carry them up the stairs. I came in, put 
the bags onto the kitchen counter, and went in to change clothes. When I came 
back out, he grabbed me. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the floor 
with Nick hovering over me."

"And you said that you didn't get a good look at him?"

"No, but I could tell that he hadn't shaved in a day or two. I felt the 
stubble when he grabbed me from behind," she said. "And he was well-built, 
larger than I was."

Sighing, Cohen digested the information. Knight's report had stated the same 
facts, but not with Natalie's first-hand account. She nodded. "All right," she 
said after a moment. "Knight, I am going to assign this to Jenkins and Belle. 
You and Schanke will stay on the Becker case."

"Um, Captain," Nick started, "I think this _is_ the Becker case?"

"Oh?" Cohen folded her arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What makes you 
say that?"

"The only thing missing from the scene was the autopsy report and the positive 
identification of the body," he answered.

"I got the information over the Net the night of the break-in," Natalie said. 
"I had sent a copy of the victims dental records to every dentist in the area. 
One came up with a match -- decades old, but a match." She looked to Cohen, 
then to Nick, and back. "The dental records match with one Moira Archer."

"What's the connection with the Beckers?"

"Last year, when Stewart Becker passed away," Nick started, "a young woman 
contested the will, claiming to be the daughter of Moira Archer and Stewart 
Becker. Schanke has been going through the lawyers' records all day."=7F

"The suit which kept the Beckers from moving into the house," Cohen concluded. 
"How much stock are you putting in that claim?"

"A lot. According to Tara Becker, there was a mystery woman in Stewart's past 
that they kept hidden. It was rumoured that she wanted to end it, and the next 
day she was missing." Nick shrugged. "If someone had killed her, that would 
explain her abrupt disappearance."

"Anything on the daughter?"

"Schanke has Vera on it now."

"Good teamwork, Knight, Lambert," Cohen said. She looked to Natalie, 
grimacing. "And you make sure that you rest. You still look very pale, 
Doctor."







 Chapter 13

"All right, spill it, Nick. I can see the wheels turning." Natalie gave a 
smile, looking at Nick from the opposite side of the front bench seat of the 
Cadillac. He had been sitting in silence for over five minutes, driving 
instinctively without really concentrating.

"You said that the man who attacked you had a few days' beard growth?"

Natalie nodded. "Yeah, and he was well built. Why? We already know that he 
wasn't in the suspect books."

"Before shifts last night, I put in my appearance at the hospital charity 
ball," Nick answered.

"Oooh," Nat said, grinning, "brown nosing with the rich and famous?"

Nick couldn't help but give a smile, relieved at being teased. There had been 
a certain strain between them since she had wakened, a strain that worried 
him. It seemed now, though, that she might be adjusting; that the rift between 
them was healing. "If only," he said. "Seriously, though, I ran into Charles 
and Alec Becker -- or I was introduced to them by Commissioner Vetter."

"And?"

"And apparently Cohen had orders to update the commissioner," Nick said. He 
spoke quickly, as if rushing to get the facts out before he lost his train of 
thought. "The Beckers were standing with me when Vetter received the call from 
Cohen. She was telling him about your search results."

Natalie could follow the train of thought. "Charles Becker might be too old, 
but _Alec_ Becker wouldn't be..."

"...and it was quite apparent to me that he was not clean shaven, nor was he a 
small man," Nick finished for her. "Did he say anything when he grabbed you?"

"No," Nat answered, shaking her head. "There wasn't another sound."

She grimaced. "But why Alec? Surely he hadn't been old enough to understand 
what was going on in the family."

"No, but his father was. I'm willing to bet that either Stewart or Charles 
Becker -- "

"Wait a minute," Natalie said, holding up a hand to silence Nick as she looked 
to him. "What if they had worked independently of one another?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, in my tests, we found traces of Haldol, as well as the brutality of the 
wounds. What if one of them had been using the Haldol on Moira in small doses, 
and the other had beaten her to death? Whichever one who beat her to death had 
no idea that she was close to death from the Haldol --"

"--And the one who was poisoning her hadn't a clue as to what the other had 
planned," Nick interrupted. "But which is which? And how much would Alec have 
to know?"

"Well, you said that Stewart was having the affair with Moira. That would mean 
that he had access to her meals, thus having access to poison her. Charles 
could have lured her out and beaten her."

Nick furrowed his brow. "The night before she disappeared, they supposedly had 
an argument. If she was killed that night, how did Meghan enter the picture?"

"The dentist at the time had made a notation on Moira's records," Natalie 
said. "At the time of that visit, she had been planning to spend time abroad, 
and would be back in for a visit soon after she arrived home. Several months 
later, she arrived, just a promised...Meaning that she probably had Meghan in 
the several months that she was away, and told Stewart about it _after_ the 
fact."

"Okay, so," Nick started, "she had been having an affair with Stewart against 
his family's wishes, and gotten pregnant. Without telling Stewart, she leaves 
and has Meghan, then comes back and tells him she's pregnant."

"Whereupon he decides to poison her with an experimental drug they had been 
working with, thinking that the child would die with her. Then, Stewart tells 
Charles about the predicament that he is in. The night that she and Stewart 
supposedly argue, Charles meets her afterward and beats her."

"And with her dies the affair, as well as the scandal that a baby would cause 
the family," Nick said. He looked to Natalie. "You know, you should have been 
a detective."

"The problem now, though, is proving all of this," Nat pointed out. "We'd have 
to get a confession out of Charles Becker."

"And one out of Alec Becker for his assault on you. That is going to be a 
sticky situation. One word about how much morphine he put into that 
syringe..."

"I know," Natalie said as he allowed his sentence to hang. She looked to him. 
"Let's just hope that he isn't a resister."



 Chapter 14

 "Captain?"

Cohen looked up from the mound of paperwork that cluttered her desk, finding 
Schanke standing in the doorframe of her office. "What is it, Schanke?"

"Has Nick been in tonight?"

"No, he hasn't. I left him at Dr. Lambert's, hovering over her like a mother 
hen," Cohen said with what was as close as she seemed to get to a smile. "Have 
you tried the cell phone?"

"Not yet. I was just running a few ideas through my head, and wanted to bounce 
them off of him," Schanke said.

"Like what?"

"Well," Schanke started, dragging out his last syllable, "if she was poisoned 
_and_ beaten, there must have been a hurry to get rid of her, the beating 
being a last-ditch effort -- like the poison wasn't going to work fast enough.

"And yet, if she had been killed when she was telling Stewart about the child, 
Meghan wouldn't be here, right?"

"Right," Cohen said. "So?"

"So Meghan would have already been born _before_ she had told Stewart she was 
even expecting," he said.

"And?"

"And..." Schanke exhaled. "And, I don't know. There's an answer here 
somewhere, Cap, but I can't find it."

"Detective Schanke?"

Schanke turned, finding a uniformed officer leaning in the doorframe.=  
"Yeah?"

"Your partner is on the phone. He's calling en route to the Becker estate."

"Thanks," Schanke said, turning to Cohen. She handed the receiver to him, and 
he placed it quickly to his ear. "Nick, buddy! Where ya been? I've been 
needing to bounce a few ideas off of you --"

"Schanke, I don't have time to explain," said Nick urgently. "Natalie and I 
are on our way to the Becker's. Meet us there with backup and witnesses. We're 
going to have to get a confession out of Charles and Alec."

"Charles? Alec? What for?"

"The murder of Moira Archer and assault and battery of Natalie Lambert," Nick 
answered. "Meet us there in ten minutes." With this, he closed the connection.

"Well?" Cohen prompted.

"He's on his way to the Becker estate to get a confession out of Charles and 
Alec Becker. He was calling for back up," Schanke answered, passing the phone 
back to her.

"You go," she said. "I'll send the back up."

Without another word to Cohen, Schanke was out of the office door, headed for 
the elevator.



Chapter 15

Nick and Natalie stood on the doorstep of the Becker estate as the heavy, 
mahogany door opened. Charles Becker stood in the foyer, wrapped in a smoking 
jacket, ascot, and his slacks. As his eyes fell on Natalie, he seemed to pale, 
but quickly regained composure. "Detective Knight, this is a surprise," he 
said. "And I don't believe I have had the pleasure of meeting your companion."

Nick nodded graciously. "This is Dr. Natalie Lambert, with the Coroner's 
Office," he said. "We'd like to talk to you about the death of Moira Archer."

Becker hesitated a few seconds, then opened the door wider. "Please come in," 
he said, stepping to one side. "I would offer you something to drink, but the 
servants have already turned in for the night."

"I apologize for the late hour, Mister Becker, but this really should not take 
long." Nick flashed a smile.

"Of course." Becker led them from the foyer and into a large living area, 
decorated lavishly. The wooden paneling, the dark colored fabrics, the hints 
of gold and brass about the room gave it a sinister feeling, one of old money 
with a secret to hide. Alec and Tara were seated on the couch, each holding a 
coffee cup.

"Detective, you already know my son and daughter-in-law," he said. "Dr. 
Lambert, this my son, Alec Becker, and my daughter-in-law, Tara."

Through her heightened senses, Natalie could hear Alec's heart skip a beat as 
she had entered the room with Nick; she could smell the fear, the Beast 
battling its way to the surface. Clenching her teeth momentarily, she forced 
herself to take control. He would get his, but not that way...Nick had taught 
her better than that.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Becker," she managed, nodding politely. 
"Now, Detective, Doctor, you said that you wanted to talk to us about the 
death of...who was it, again?"

"Her name was Moira Archer," Natalie answered. "Her daughter, Meghan, was the 
one who contested Stewart Becker's will."

"_That_ was her _mother_?" Charles sounded shocked.

Nick wanted to laugh at Charles' attempt to feign ignorance. "Yes, Mr. 
Becker," he said. He cleared his throat. "But you and your son already knew 
that."

Alec leapt from his seat. "What!"

Turning his attention to Tara, he smiled. "Mrs. Becker, you informed me of 
Moira Archer's existence with your story; _she_ was the woman that the family 
refused to allow Stewart to see."

"Th--That was the woman in the attic?" Tara stuttered. Her face went white.

"Yes, it was," Nick said. He turned back to Charles Becker. "But you knew who 
she was the moment that she was discovered, didn't you?"

The eldest Becker opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. He 
studied Nick's expression carefully, trying to discern if he was bluffing. 
Satisfied that he was not, Charles' expression softened. "It's been a long 
time," he said. "A long, _long_ time."

"Dad, you can't. Not now. We'll lose everything." Alec was hovering over his 
father's shoulder, gripping it tightly.

"We'll lose it all right...to the one person it belongs to," Becker said. 
"Meghan Archer."

"Stupid old man!" Alec shouted, drawing back his hand. Before he could swing, 
however, Natalie grabbed his arm. Fighting to keep the flecks of gold out of 
her eyes, she drew on her new strength to stop him.

"I thought you'd be dead," Alec said. "I filled you with enough morphine..."

Natalie locked eyes with him, tuning all her senses onto bending his mind. 
"You gave me enough morphine to make me sleep," she said. She continued to 
hold his eyes for a moment, unsure if she was yet skilled enough to do this on 
her own.

"...to..."

"Police! Freeze!"

The room was suddenly bombarded with uniformed officers, all with guns in 
hand, ready for action. Schanke entered, front and center, walking over to 
take hold over Alec, and nodding to Nick. "Well, well, Nat. I'm impressed. Not 
only do you do autopsies, but you also know how to pin a suspect," Schanke 
said to her.

Natalie smiled, passing a glance over Schanke's shoulder to Nick. "Thanks, 
Schanke. Glad you noticed."

Handcuffing Alec and Charles, the officers escorted them out to the patrol 
cars. In their wake, Tara Becker stood, clad in her bed clothes, stunned. Her 
husband had known. Her father-in-law had known. Who else in the family that 
she had trusted knew?

Nick crossed to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Mrs. Becker--"

Tara shook her head to silence him. "No. I'll go down later. I need some 
time..."



Chapter 16

 Peering carefully around the door, Nick stood watching as the young woman 
held a tiny, writhing bundle in her arms, tears welling up in brown eyes. 
Quietly, he stepped in, not wanting to disturb the moment between mother and 
daughter.

Anne looked up, her eyes moist. She sniffed. "Hi," she said, her voice almost 
a whisper. "I was wondering when you would be able to get back."

"I came as quickly as I could," Nick said. He pulled the lone chair next to 
the bed, but did not sit. Instead, he peered into the bundle of flannel 
blankets at the tiny child. "She's beautiful."

Anne sniffed again. "Isn't she? She looks so much like her father," she said. 
"The furrowed brows when she's upset, the fussyness when things don't go her 
way."

Nick gave a snort of laughter. "Yeah. I guess like father, like daughter. What 
name did you decide on?"

"Nicole Michelle," Anne answered. "To honor both of you. You really meant a 
lot to Mitch -- and to me through all of this. I can't tell you how much it 
has meant..."

Nick cleared his throat. "Have the adoptive parent's been notified?"

"There isn't going to be an adoption."

Nick looked up. "You're not giving her up?"

"No," replied Anne. "His family would like nothing more. And then I would only 
have my memories." She looked down at Nicole, who now slept. "She's what I 
have left of Mitch. She's mine. I don't know how we will make it, but we will. 
The world owes us that much."

"Yes...yes it does."

Nick sat, watching as Anne tended to the little one, talking softly to her, 
stroking Nicole's red cheeks as though she were a porcelain doll. The world 
owed Anne and that little girl..._Nick_ owed them. At least now, his blood 
money would pay for one mistake...



Chapter 17

 Natalie leant back against Nick, her legs extended the length of the sofa, 
her eyes focused on the television. Dusk had finally fallen once again, and 
Nick's shift began in a few hours. For the time between, they had settled in 
to something normal and familiar: a movie at Nick's apartment.

It had been _Interview with the Vampire_ again, this time with a bit more 
meaning for Natalie. Unlike Louis, she had been brought across without time to 
watch another sunrise, to make that decision of her own free will. And she had 
been mad -- hurt, even -- at Nick for having done this to her.

But she knew why.

He loved her.

He loved the mortal Natalie, a woman who no longer existed. Now, all that 
remained was the immortal Natalie, one who drank her dinners, and fought her 
Beastly urges every time she saw another mortal...a Natalie that would never 
see the sun again.

*But there _is_ a cure. Somewhere.*

"Hey."

It was another moment before she realized that she had been staring at a black 
screen for over five minutes. She gave a slight jump, turning her head to look 
at Nick. "What?"

"Are you all right? We've been so busy, I haven't really had time to ask..."

"I wasn't," Nat admitted. She smiled. "But I'm learning."

"You did well last night," Nick said. "I was afraid that you might lose it."

"It was a fight," said Natalie. "I mean, I had been mad at you for bringing me 
across. But once we made the connection, I realized you weren't responsible at 
all. Alec is the one who made me this way. It was his syringe that killed me, 
the one that forced you to make the choice you did."

"I still feel guilty. I always will."

Natalie looked up at him, seeing the sadness in his eyes. "Don't," she said 
firmly, placing a hand against his cheek. "It was Alec. Not you. You have 
enough to carry."

Sitting up, she swung her legs down, then turned back to him. Slowly, she 
leaned forward and kissed him lightly. "And I know you did it out of love."

 Epilogue

 Alec Becker paced the length of the small cell, his hands clasped behind his 
back. He was alone here. No one came to visit. None of the family wanted to 
admit that one of the Beckers had fallen from grace...though they had buried 
his father with full honors.

How things had gone so terribly wrong, he was not certain. He had been so 
careful to cover his father's tracks as well as his own. Every step that the 
detectives had taken was watched; there had been a rare move that they had not 
known about.

How then?

The coroner. The damned coroner. She had accessed the database that had seemed 
like such a great idea years ago. He gave a laugh. His father had funded the 
initial equipment bought to store the data. And it had started their downfall.

Another image flashed across his mind. One that kept reappearing in his 
dreams. It was through the eyes of another, as though he were that other 
person. There was brief struggle as he grabbed a woman from behind, jabbing a 
hypodermic needle into her arm. He felt her body sag as he drained the syringe 
into her bloodstream...her heartbeat slowing...

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"Falling in love is an unspecified  disease with an uncertain recovery, where   
as growing into love has limitless possibilities..."

                                ----Unknown