Legal twaddle, I own not Forever Knight, nor any of its characters, yet I still presume to own this, my story, Any DP can archive this anywhere they wish, as can Mel place it on the www.fkfic.com site, all others please ask. If you object to this decree, may a thousand unwashed rats find their way to your bathtubs! **Note: this is -not- an open invitation to those with Ratpacker tendencies! Forgiveness (1/1) By: Cousin Mary (Jenkins) Feb. 1998 Tracy was in a back room of her gym. It was close to two in the morning but she was friends with the owner so she was there after closing, alone. And that was good because Tracy was very, very angry and she didn't need witnesses. Her partner was a freakin' vampire! She stepped up to the sand filled bag shaped like a seven-foot tall man, and kicked it in the chest. How dare he lie to her? Using another move, she swung her leg in a wide arch and kicked it in the neck. Who the hell did he think he was? What gave him the right to keep that from her? Tracy wasn't just angry; she was furious. She smashed her fist into where a kidney would be. After she'd confronted Nick with her knowledge he'd just given her a sheepish grin and told her he'd thought he was protecting her. 'From what?' She'd screamed at him. He had known she knew about vampires! She was no danger to the community. Why the hell hadn't he told her? She slammed her the heel of her hand up into the dummy's jaw. 'Obviously he didn't think very much of me.' She thought to herself. Just then she noticed someone standing in the shadows. She swung around in fighting stance. After that serial killer had grabbed her last year she had earnestly renewed her dedication to her self-defence classes. Beyond the normal police training courses, she had enrolled in a series of kick boxing, Aikido, karate, and judo classes. As well as going to see some of her old friends that knew a few of the 'less established' forms of fighting. And boy, was she ever ready for a fight! "Whoa, Tracy it's me." Vachon stepped forward, hands up in a non-threatening gesture. He'd been watching her from a distant and had been very impressed. Vachon looked around the gym. It was a huge warehouse type building in a bad part of town, full of antiquated machines. He'd known Tracy came here, but hadn't realised just what kind of place it was. This was a place for fighters, serious fighters. The place was a temple to the fight. It was full of mats and rings. Posters advertising various types of matches covered the dingy walls. There were lines of different kinds of punching bags, and long-skinny bags that he thought must be for kick-boxing. And a lot of stuff Vachon had no idea what it was used for. But judging from what he'd seen, Tracy knew how to use them all. Who knew Tracy had this side to her? Tracy looked at him, she wasn't stupid, if Nick was a vampire, Vachon -must- have known. Therefore he lied to her too. Tracy seriously considered attacking him anyway. Instead she turned swiftly and kicked the dummy in its sand-filled groin. Vachon watched with a look of acute discomfort on his face. It took him a minute to recover, "Ah…Trace? We had a date remember?" Tracy glared at him. "Nick-is-a-vampire." She said slowly, venom dripping with every measured word. 'Uh-oh,' Vachon thought. He knew the implications. He took a step towards her. "Look Hon," He began. "Nick told me not to say anything!" He racked his hand through his dishevelled hair. He took another step in her direction. Just then, using a move she'd learned from someone not long ago, Tracy straightened her fingers and locked them into place. Thrusting her hand forward from her body she sunk her entire hand into the middle of the dummy's chest. Her fingers ripped through the heavy canvas. When she withdrew her hand, she had a fist full of sand. Vachon watched in horror as she slowly let the sand trickle out from between her fingers. She'd just ripped its heart out! Vachon decided not to get any closer just yet, He'd never she her so angry! "Ah Trace, I'm really sorry." "You should have told me." She said in a small voice. Vachon looked at her. She looked like she was about to cry. Gone now was the fury of a moment ago, replaced by a very hurt woman. "I know, I know." He went to her and pulled her into his arms. "I know Trace." She cuddled into his chest. "No more secrets Vachon." Tracy whispered, "Promise me." Vachon looked down at the girl in his arms. He leaned down and kissed the top of her golden head. "I promise." They stood there silently for a long time. Gently rocking back and forth, as the anger drained out of Tracy. Vachon felt her finally relax in his arms. Taking her chin in his cool hand he tilted her face up to his and gave her a gentle kiss. "Hey, kiddo, Where'd you learn all that?" Indicating her dummy-smashing abilities. "I used to run with a pretty tough crowd in my rebellious teens, you know." She confided. Vachon smiled down at her. "You rebelled?" He shook his head, "Can't see it, thought you were Daddy's little girl." Tracy smiled sadly, "For the most part I was." She looked thoughtful. "But from about 14 to 16 I was a real terror." She laughed. "I had a 17 year old friend who rode this great big black motorcycle. I pretty much ran wild with him and his friends." She smiled at the memories. "Finally Dad put his foot down. He sent me to an all girls' school for the last two years of high school, made me see a bunch of counsellors." She took a deep breath, "After that, I settled down, went to college, the academy." She shrugged, "Lost track of most of the old gang." "What happened to them?" Vachon asked, expecting stories of prison and death. "Oh…um, let's see." Tracy screwed up her face as she thought. "Jean owns a tattoo parlour down on ninth. Mave is married with three kids. Carlo works in construction in Vancouver. And Spike owns this place." She said, throwing her arms wide to indicate the gym. Vachon raised an eyebrow. "I thought you lost track." Tracy shrugged. "I looked them up again, I -am- a detective you know." She told him with aplomb. She chewed her lip. "Most of my friend's from college are gone, Jody disappeared, Bruce is in jail." Tracy sighed. "Sometimes you've got to recognise who your -real- friends are." Vachon searched her face. She sounded so world-weary now. He than realised she must have been seeing these friends of hers during the days, when he couldn't be with her. He gathered her close against him; not sure he'd ever let her go again. He found he didn't like the idea of her having secrets from him either. "Do you forgive me for not telling you?" He smiled down at her. If he'd expected her quick smile back, he was sorely disappointed. Tracy stared up into his eyes, judging him. Vachon felt vaguely uncomfortable under her steely gaze. "We'll see Vachon." She said slowly. "We'll see." >>>>>> Okay, I took some liberties with Tracy's past. But here's my rationalisation…remember how Tracy said she had a friend who was really into tattoos? =That's Jean. And Jody was a sorority sister, so I'm assuming they met in college. As for Bruce, when Tracy rebelled he would've been in college (probably on the hockey team.) And her father, used to his good little Button, hadn't realised for a while what was going on (too involved with his career.) She would've had free-reign for a bit. Hey! It could've happened! Send comments (and moral objections to my toying with Tracy's past) to anteros@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com/getjuno.html or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866] FFrom anteros@juno.com Sat Jan 9 14:50:25 1999 Return-Path: Received: from m19.boston.juno.com (m19.boston.juno.com [205.231.100.190]) by pulsar.skyport.net (8.8.8/8.8.8) with ESMTP id OAA07020 for ; Sat, 9 Jan 1999 14:50:25 -0500 Received: (from anteros@juno.com) by m19.boston.juno.com (queuemail) id DYJYAL6X; Sat, 09 Jan 1999 14:50:50 EST To: FKarchiver@fkfanfic.com Date: Sat, 9 Jan 1999 12:38:44 -0700 Subject: Funeral (1/1) Message-ID: <19990109.125732.6606.11.anteros@juno.com> X-Mailer: Juno 1.49 X-Juno-Line-Breaks: 3,6-11,15,18,22,26,33,37,43,46,53,60,65,67,69,71, 73-74,78,87,90,95,99,106,111,114,117,120,125-128,133 From: anteros@juno.com (Cousin Mary) Usual Disclaimer: I don't own Tracy or any of her little undead playmates. No copyright infringement is intended, please don't sue, I'm a poor college student and all you'd get is microwavable vegetarian burritos. This is more post-LK fare. Lots of Lacroix, focusing on Tracy. Permission to archive granted to all Dark Perks, and to Mel on the www.fkfic.com site, everyone else must ask first. Enjoy! :) Funeral By: Cousin Mary (Jenkins) 10-98 Tracy Vetter was dead. Lacroix looked around at the funeral of his son's partner. Earlier that day the mortals had held the fallen officer's official memorial service. '21-gun salute,' he supposed, 'flowers, weeping virgins, the usual.' Now it was close to midnight. The funeral parlor, long since closed, had been reopened at his son's 'request' for those unable to attend those sun-drenched services. 'It's good to see Nicholas using his powers again.' Lacroix mused as he glanced around at the mourners. There were many of his kind here. Many more than he'd thought any mortal, especially one so young, could draw. There was Nicholas, of course, along with his new daughter Natalie. Lacroix allowed himself a small smile at the corner, she'd just been too stubborn to die. 'She'll do Nicholas some good,' he thought, not that he'd ever admit he thought as such to either of them. The Spaniard was in attendance as well, pulled himself out of his own grave just in time to find his beloved entering her own. 'Tragic,' Lacroix thought, smirking at the irony. Truth was, he'd never really known what to make of that relationship. Months ago, in passing, he'd heard of the Spaniard and young Vetter's friendship, but he'd never suspected she'd been privy to their secret. They'd both held their confidences well. It annoyed him that he hadn't known. Actually, it seemed the more he learned of this Tracy Vetter the more she annoyed him. Never mind the fact that she was dead, she had had too many secrets. Things he should have known. Lacroix looked around the parlour again, this time with sharp eyes. There was Jody, with her hound in the back. Yet another one of Ms. Vetter's connections to his world. There was Screed, lurking in the back with suspiciously wet eyes. And of course where ever Vachon went, so went Urs. Though even the young goddess seemed drained by Ms. Vetter's passing. Near the door also skulked several more of their kind, ones he didn't have names for. And from the way both his son and the Spaniard were looking at them, Lacroix doubted they did either. There were a pair of Enforcers in the back, trying not to be noticed. At first he'd thought perhaps Ms. Vetter had met her untimely death just before meeting those two, perhaps just saving them their work. But then he'd noticed that they'd brought flowers, apparently they'd met her before and decided for once not to enforce the code. 'How had she talked them out of it?' Lacroix wondered, for surely Nicholas had had nothing to do with her protection, he would have heard of it. Most of the mourners had brought calla lilies, the Enforcers had, Nicholas, the Spaniard had brought dozens. Lacroix felt out of place with his single white rose. He could hear the others talking, her blood had evidently smelt strongly of the bloom. Slipping his rose back into his jacket pocket, Lacroix watched as the members of the community tried to consul one another. He suppressed a grimace, 'it's not like she was one of us!' He thought angrily. So absorbed in his own musings, it took Lacroix a moment to realise that conversation in the parlour had dropped off. Everyone was listening in on the pair morticians standing at a side door. They were mortals, whispering to each other, not realising that everyone in the room could easily hear them. They were talking about Tracy Vetter's earlier funeral. How almost no one had attended. "Yeah," said one, "I heard her Mom's an alcoholic and couldn't drag herself out of bed for the service." "And the Dad was a half hour late and left early," The other remarked, "Late for a meeting or something." "Well, she was loved wasn't she?" The first commented snidely, "I hear only four people showed up, and no one even shed a tear." A heavy sensation descended across the parlour, the vampires began exchanging horrified looks. Despite how much they'd miss Tracy, how could the mortals not? They barely noticed as Urs went and politely asked the mortals to leave. Lacroix himself didn't feel bad. In fact, what he -did- feel was a sort of sickening realisation that despite being mortal, Tracy Vetter had very much indeed been a member of their community. While the good doctor had really only had ties with Nicholas and himself, Tracy had managed to connect herself quite readily to a good deal of the community, and in such a way that not many had even been aware of her other ties. He felt a growing admiration for Tracy Vetter's slyness. Just how much had she known? Or, from the looks of it, perhaps he should be asking, what hadn't she known? Lacroix watched with detachment as the procession past the coffin began. Nicholas cried, of course. He probably would have stayed at its side all night, if Natalie hadn't pulled him away. The Spaniard was next. Vachon came within five feet of the coffin and stopped dead in his tracks, just staring. For a moment Lacroix thought he might plan on doing himself harm, but then Urs and Screed came to lead him back to his seat. The Spaniard was stiff as a board, obviously in complete shock over losing his love. The rest quickly paraded by: Jody, who sobbed, the unnamed vampires, who mumbled something in Arabic he didn't quite catch, the Enforcers, who left a small red box atop the coffin. An offering only they, and presumably Tracy, understood. No one really expected him to walk up, so he didn't. He just stood in the back and watched. Nicholas shot him a grateful look, just happy he'd attended. His son thought he'd come solely for his benefit. And while mostly true, it wasn't the whole story. The fact was, his one and only meeting with young Vetter, she had intrigued him. She'd suspected him, that much had been obvious, but she'd watched him watching her. Quite amusing actually, if it hadn't been for Divia's… 'Ah well, no use worrying about that now.' Lacroix smiled sadly with thoughts of what had almost been. He'd planned on paying young Ms. Vetter a visit, to help ease the pain of the Spaniard's passing. His eyes flicked across Vachon's shaking form. Well, there was no need now, even if she'd still been alive. Lacroix flinched as he realised what he was doing. He would -not- give in to these feelings. Mortals die. He wouldn't allow himself to mourn one he hadn't really even known! After a while, he looked up again. He was alone. Strange, he hadn't even noticed the others leaving. Frowning slightly, Lacroix moved towards the casket. He would pay his respects. He stood before the white lacquered coffin, drenched in lilies and touched the top. Inside lay Tracy Vetter, fallen officer…fallen angel. He signed and placed his crushed rose atop the casket. He was about to move away, when he turned and looked again. He had to see her, just one last time. Someone he'd never known, but thought he would have very much liked. Glancing around to make sure he wasn't being observed, Lacroix slowly opened the coffin to find…nothing. The white satin pillow lay untouched inside, there was no body. A small smile touched his lips, he should have known. >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Weird mood tonight, sorry. But it always stuck me as odd that Tracy had so many ties to the community. Separate ties. Nick, Vachon and Jody. Even if she hadn't met 2 of the 3, chances are she still would have learned about vampires. Kind of an interesting idea huh? Send all comments and satin pillows to anteros@juno.com ___________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com/getjuno.html or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866]