Date: Tue, 22 Oct 1996 18:29:15 -0600 From: Rebecca Tanner Much thanks to Kevin Matsumoto and Judy Fruedenthal for beta reading and special thanks to Kevin for the title. This is a companion story to Reese Vs The Water Cooler although it is not necessary to read that one first. This is the second half of my reaction to Last Knight and it does include spoilers for that episode. Do I need a disclaimer? Well to be on the safe side, FK doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Sony and was created by James Parriott. Just One Little Look (1/2) rebecca@rio.dixie.edu Lacroix turned the microphone off and leaned back. He smiled as he reread the newspaper article that had caught his attention. "Police Captain Killed In Bizarre Shooting Spree". A soft chuckle escaped as he read the article again. He lifted his glass in salute. "Thanks for the memories. It was fun." Lacroix sighed. He missed having Nicholas around to torment. In the past 700 or so years he had been able to raise Nicholas Torture to a high art. No detail was too small. Each, in its place, added to the whole to make a polished masterpiece. Attention to detail was something that Lacroix prided himself on and being able to keep Nicholas' immediate superior in a constant state of irritation had been one of the details of which he was most fond. There was something deliciously ironic about the whole situation which appealed to him immensely. He hadn't anticipated such a result when he hypnotized the police captain, but it was a wonderful surprise. Some would have thought it rather petty to hypnotize a man to be unable to use a water cooler. Lacroix, however, understood the importance of such small details in his continuing quest to make Nicholas' life a living hell. Continual small annoyances often proved more irritating than the large disasters in the end. He had wasted little time in finding a replacement for Nicholas, but his newest child left much to be desired. She had seemed reasonably intelligent at first, with just enough rebelliousness to make things interesting. However, her level of intelligence seemed to be inversely proportional to the amount of time since being brought across. She was no longer much of a challenge. In fact, she was starting to get downright annoying. The song ended and Lacroix leaned forward to begin another monolog. ***** Rose sighed as she reached over and switched off the radio. Her friends thought she was insane to stay up so late when she had early morning classes. She couldn't explain to them the compulsion she felt to listen each night to that velvet smooth voice. That voice that flowed like honey through the airwaves with its rich blend of poetry and prose... Rose reached up to wipe away the stream of drool that inevitably formed when she thought too much about just how wonderful that voice was. Rose sighed again. She drifted off to dreamland where a disembodied voice teased her by always being behind no matter which way she turned. She finally gave up and simply enjoyed the masterful telling of Peter Cottontail. BEEP BEEP BEEP Rose shot straight up in bed with one hand clutched over her rapidly beating heart. She thought as she swallowed and tried to get the adrenalin taste out of her mouth. Of course at the time she had never even heard of the Nightcrawler and 8:00 hadn't seem that early. ***** Leah and Erin were waiting for Rose after class. "What did you bring for lunch today Rose?" Leah asked. Rose grinned and, to Leah's surprise, blushed slightly. "Salad and garlic bread." Erin, of course, was quick to pick up on the blush. "Oh ho, garlic eh? Somebody trying to put the moves on you and you want to discourage him?" Rose blushed even more and started to laugh a little. "Actually yes. Do you remember that guy I was telling you about in my math class?" "The one who keeps sitting next to you so you can't sit by Drew?" Leah asked. "Yeah, that's him. I found out that he hates garlic so I've started eating it every day before class. By the time I get to class I absolutely reek of garlic and he won't even sit on the same side of the room as me." Rose looked very smug about that. "Aren't you afraid that will chase away everybody?" Erin asked. Rose blushed again and said, "Drew likes garlic." Leah looked hard at Rose. "Are you okay Rose?" She asked. "You look wiped out." Before Rose could answer Erin broke in. "She probably stayed up all night listening to that radio guy. What's his name? The Worm or something?" "The *Nightcrawler*." Rose corrected in an affronted voice. Worm indeed! "Oh yeah, that's it." Erin grinned. "Why do you want to listen to a guy who's named after an invertabrate? You are very odd sometimes Rose." "Well, if you had ever listened to him..." Leah decided to put in her two cents worth. "I have. It was a couple of years ago I think. I was driving late at night and his station was the only one that I could tune in clearly. He was going on and on and on about love of all things. Phew, that guy is seriously depressed. I wonder if he has considered counselling?" "Hey, maybe that's why they call him Nightcrawler. He looks like fish bait. He could never get any dates in high school and so now he works late at night on the radio so no one ever sees him and he can take out his frustration on all of his listeners." Erin interjected. "He does NOT look like fish bait." Rose protested. "Oh? How do you? Have you seen him?" Erin asked. "No, but there is no way that anyone with a voice like that would have any trouble getting a date, even in high school." Rose said. "Come on guys. Just because he doesn't do remote broadcasts on campus like some stations doesn't mean he's hiding because he is ashamed to be seen in the light of day." Erin was about to make another comment when Leah stepped on her foot. Erin sometimes had a tendency to push Rose too far with her teasing and Leah knew they were at the limit. Leah glanced down at her watch and jumped up. "Oh boy, we gotta run; the bus'll be here any minute. See ya tomorrow." As the two made their way out Rose overheard the word fish bait and a muffled giggle. Rose thought as she gathered her notes and shoved them into her bag. ***** Rose had a hard time concentrating on anything else and by midafternoon had completely given up trying. She couldn't even settle down for her afternoon nap - a practice she had adopted the day after she had listened to her first Nightcrawler broadcast. Why didn't he ever make publicity appearances? Could there be any truth in Erin's allegations? Was he hiding from something? The only thing she really knew about him, aside from the fact that his voice made her want to melt into a puddle at his feet, was that he made his broadcasts from a bar called the Raven. Rose fell into a fretful sleep. When she awoke she smiled. Sleep, that master of inspiration, had worked its magic again. She had a plan. It was simplicity itself. She would go to the Raven herself to catch a glimpse of the elusive Nightcrawler. Then she would be able to silence those barbs from Erin and rub her face in it a little too. She grinned in anticipation. Rose tried on and discarded several outfits before she finally settled on the black skirt, boots, scooped neck knit top, and black leather jacket. Her skin was naturally pale so she added just a touch of dark red lipstick and left for the Raven. Six hours later a very frustrated Rose returned. She thought as she remembered her evening. She had discovered where the broadcast booth was and snagged a table as close to it as she could. She could vaguely see him through the glass, but not enough to really *see* him. Then she had waited. And waited and waited. He had slipped out a couple of times, but he always remained towards the back and the lighting in the club was dim at best. The only thing that she had been able to determine was that he was tall, had a very nice body, and kept his hair very short. She also discovered that his name was Lucien Lacroix. Rose thought as she dressed for bed. End Part 1 Just One Little Look (2/2) rebecca@rio.dixie.edu The next night Rose was at the Raven again. This time she decided to skip the table and simply roam. Maybe she'd be able to learn more than she had the night before. When Lacroix left the booth she was able to follow at a discrete distance. She didn't dare get too close for fear that he would notice her. After he returned to the broadcast booth she took a place at the bar a few seats away from the pretty blond girl that he had been talking to. She didn't look pleased. In fact, she seemed to be pouting. A man sat next to the blond and ordered a drink from the bartender. He was quite... interesting looking and appeared to be in dire need of a good dental hygienist. Rose shifted so that she could stare at him without being too obvious. "Hey Buffy, what's up?" The dark-haired man said. Rose bit her cheek to keep from laughing. "Lacroix like, wants me to find someone to, you know, repair the shutters in his bedroom. Like, he thinks I'm his *slave* or something. The mechanism doohicky is like, jammed and he can't get them shut. Or like, I guess he *could* get them shut but then they would be like, *really* broken. Do you by any chance know who put them in?" She asked and then blew a bubble with the gum she was chewing. Rose concentrated again on the conversation beside her. "Sorry, that was before my time. Maybe Nick would know someone." "No silly, Nick's dead, remember? Somebody put that pointy thingy through him after that little 'incident' with his lady friend. Totally bogus." The blond shuddered and made a face, all the while cracking her gum. "There's like, something *so* creepy about Toronto. People like, just *die* in the most totally *bizarre* ways. I want to move someplace more fun, you know, like Florida, but Lacroix *likes* all the gloom." "Maybe Aristotle could help. He has a lot of experience with setting up living quarters." Buffy smiled at the man and squealed, "Ooooh, you're like, so *totally* smart! I'll give him a call. Lacroix wants the repairs done, like as *soon* as *possible*, so I like, *really* have to have someone come out, like tomorrow night, you know? He's like, you know, *so* *bossy*." Buffy rolled her eyes. The man gave Buffy a quick kiss, tossed back the rest of his drink and left, apparently relieved that the conversation was over. Rose sat at the bar staring at her drink. Getting a good look at the Nightcrawler in the bar was a hopeless cause. Even on the occasions when he left the booth it was impossible to see him clearly because of the dim lighting. She'd have to come up with another way. The barest wisp of an idea was beginning to take shape. Rose discreetly followed Buffy as she went to the phone and talked to some guy named Aristotle about getting the shutters repaired. It was difficult to follow the conversation because she could only hear one side of it, and it wasn't the most coherent side either, but it seemed that tomorrow night was the earliest that anything could be done. Rose smiled to herself. This was good. This was very good. The bizarre plan she was forming required an open window. She *would* see the Nightcrawler. It wasn't just a matter of justifying her infatuation to her friends. The lengths to which she had already gone fired her obsession. A burning need to see her hero filled her every thought. She *had* to know. There was no way around it. She would never be able to rest easily again until her curiousity had been satisfied. She went home to plan. ***** Rose thought, almost trembling with nervousness. There, on the other side of the door was the man of her dreams. It was a moment she had anticipated for a long time and now that it was upon her she was beseiged by doubts. Was this the right thing to do? Did it really matter? Maybe it would be better to preserve the mystery. She almost changed her mind and turned back when she heard again the taunting words - fish bait, fish bait. She set her jaw and continued, today was her only chance. Quietly, stealthily, Rose crept through the door. The room was like a tomb. She could barely make out the form lying stretched out on the bed. She stepped over to the window next to the door and hesitated. All of the doubts and misgivings that she had felt assaulted her with renewed strength. Her resolve wavered again. She reached up and grabbed the crucifix she always wore around her neck. It had been a gift from her grandmother and always gave her courage. She took a deep breath and pulled back the curtain. She turned and looked at the face of her idol, now clearly revealed in the blazing light of day. It was a moment of triumph as her faith and devotion were vindicated. He did *not* look like fish bait. Rose's triumph quickly faded to a feeling of shock as the man began to smoke and his eyes snapped open. The man in front of her leaped from the bed and came towards her. He paused, a look of disgust on his face, and seemed unable to come any closer. Rose's mouth formed an O as she noticed the longer than average length canines. She took a step back and tripped over the drapes. Yards of fabric came crashing down around her as she froze. Sunlight bathed the entire room. Not a single nook or cranny was left dark. Rose's eyes never left the man in front of her. He raised his arms in front of him in a futile effort to ward off the sun. She watched as the smoke increased and he burst into flames. The flames died. She blinked. The ash swirled and sparkled in the sunlight. She continued to stare. The ash slowly settled to the floor, leaving a thin film to mark the place where he had stood. Her mouth opened and closed several times in a desperate attempt to say something. She swallowed and in a soft strangled voice whispered the only word that would form in her shocked mind. "Oops." The End I thought that since TPTB were out to kill every character in the show I would help them by disposing of the two that they hadn't managed to slaughter. Hence, these two stories. They were my way of making the deaths of the other characters seem more ridiculous and therefore easier for me to deal with. Comments welcome at rebecca@rio.dixie.edu