Date: Sat, 6 Apr 1996 16:34:12 -0500 From: Carrie Krumtum Subject: Knight Confessions (Part 1) Gentles all, It's that time again. Another story for you. All the usual disclaimers from me: I don't know how long it will be. We'll all know when I get to the end. Pardon for any spelling or formatting errors. I do use a spell checker, but, some things still slip through. As always, any and all comments are appreciated. And...consider the source. Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 1) by Carrie Krumtum c. 1996 No matter how long he worked in the mortal world he never would get really used to the idea of having to ask for days off. There had been a time, a long time, when he simply did as he pleased. Gone where he had wished, spent his nights however he had chosen. With whom he had chosen. Well, some of them anyway. He had always been plagued with the domineering nature of his creator. That had not changed. Now he was plagued with the need of his captain to assert his authority. Not that he could blame the captain. He did have a way of ignoring him when things needed to get done a CERTAIN way. HIS way. He sighed. If he were the captain, he would probably be miffed as well. More than miffed. Down right angry. Now he was pulling the infamous desk duty. Shuffle shuffle shuffle. Paper paper paper. Type type type. He was going to go crazy if he didn't get a day off soon. Three days had been plenty. He had learned his lesson. Never get caught disobeying a direct order. Even if it was necessary to save your partner from herself. Disobey. But don't get caught. Of course, that's not the lesson Reese was trying to make him learn. Joe Reese was a good cop. A good captain. Just a bit too controlling for his likes, but a good leader. He cared. Genuinely. For the cops on his watch, the victims, the integrity of the system. He respected the captain. That wasn't the issue. He had to disobey him sometimes, without the luxury of explaining the reasons. So. Desk duty. He sighed again. Paper, type, shuffle. "Knight!" Reese was standing at the door to his office. "See you a minute?" Glad for the interruption, Nick looked up at the captain. "Sure cap." He followed Reese into his office and waited for him to sit down at his desk. Reese looked up at his detective. He smiled internally, making sure to keep a neutral mask in place. Knight probably had the finest investigative mind in the department. He was smart, very smart. Capable. But he was head strong and far too independent. Well, you take the bad with the good, he thought. Knight was a good detective. He just needed a little reminding, now and then, who the boss was. "Have a seat detective." Nick sat down. The captain's tone revealed little to him. He hoped his desk duty was about to end. Whatever Reese wanted, Nick was sure he was going to have to listen to the 'I want you to remember who is in charge' speech before he found out. "Look, Nick," Reese began. He noted Knight's expectation of and resignation to the speech he thought he was about to be given. Knight was about to be surprised. "I know what you're thinking. I'm not going to lecture you." He smiled at the look of surprise that flashed across his detective's face. And along with the surprise he thought he read a little bit of relief. "But I am going to remind you. I have reasons for the decisions I make Nick. Good ones." He paused for a reaction. Nick knew the captain was right. In his mind, Reese would have thought through things as any mortal would. Being a vampire gave Nick more options than any mortal. It also limited the amount of honesty he could have with mortals as well. "I know that, cap." It was all he could say. It was the truth. Reese had expected more. He shrugged. He wasn't going to get more. Knight had done what he had thought he needed to. Reese trusted Knight to do what he thought was right. That was the crux of it. Knight would do what he thought was right. And Knight was a good cop. Independence aside. He was the most decorated cop in the precinct. Had one of the best records in the department. Hell, he was even trusted with the life of the Commissioner's daughter. Knight was a high profile cop. But he wasn't trying to be. If anything, Knight would rather be low profile. That incongruity is what made Reese sense he could trust him. It was the very thing about him that made him so hard to figure sometimes. Knight was a complex guy. Isn't that what Joe Stonetree had told him? Knight was complex. Get used to it. "Glad to know that you do." Reese shifted a little in his chair and reached for a folder on his desk. He handed it to Nick. "I want you to take tonight off and review this file. There's an assignment I want you to consider taking." Nick took the file from the captain. "Consider?" "Yeah. I can't order you to do this Nick. I think you should be able to refuse it if you want." He held up his hand at the questioning response he saw forming on the detective's face. "Just read the file and think about it. I'll talk to you day after tomorrow. Now go home and get some rest. Desk duty's over." Nick brightened. He looked from his captain to the folder in his hand and back again. "Okay cap. Thanks." He rose to leave and then paused. He looked back at the captain. "Cap?" "Yeah?" "I'm sorry about disobeying your order. I just thought I was doing the right thing." "I know. That's why you got three days instead of three weeks." Reese grinned. "Now get out of here. I've got work I still have to do." Nick smiled back at the captain. He had to admit. He liked Joe Reese. He really did. "Is this a real invitation?" Natalie was being sarcastic. She tried to keep the edge off of it. It had been weeks since he had asked her to do anything with him. It had been a weird past few months, even for them. Though, she doubted there was a weirder relationship on the face of the planet. He winced slightly at the tone in her voice. He was glad he had called. He wasn't sure he wanted to see the look on her face right now. He knew it had been a while since he had asked her out. She had every right to be incredulous. "Yes, it's a real invitation. I just thought we both could use a night out. So...?" She had to smile. "All right. You've got yourself a date." Sarcasm gone, she suddenly felt happier than she did before he called. "Great. I'll pick you up a eight." He relaxed as he heard the cheerfulness return to her voice. "Eight it is." She hung up. She laughed as she suddenly realized that she felt anxious. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 2) by Carrie Krumtum She looked stunning. He knew he was staring. He couldn't help himself. "Nick. Stop it. You're embarrassing me." She smiled shyly. It felt good to be stared at. But he had been doing it for an uncomfortable amount of time. They had been at the restaurant for a half and hour and he still was staring. And that roguish smile. It just made it worse. He laughed. "Stop what?" "You're staring." She was blushing now. "I like the view." His smile broadened. He was enjoying their evening. He was enjoying her embarrassment. He was enjoying just being with her. She flushed completely. He was hopeless. It was true that she wanted him to notice her, but, she hadn't expected this kind of response. It was kind of nice. But, it was embarrassing the hell out of her. "Stop it! Eat." She pointed to his untouched plate. It was obvious that she was going to have to change the object of his attention. Looking down at his plate reluctantly, he took a deep breath. Steak tartar. Raw hamburger. It was about the only thing he could eat in public without choking. That and French fries, with lots of ketchup. Natalie had ordered halibut. She loved seafood. He picked up his fork and took a preliminary stab at his food. It wasn't going to go away. He would have to eat something. Just a few bites wouldn't kill him. He was pretty sure it wouldn't anyway. He took a bite and chewed, then swallowed. "Good boy." She was laughing. He always made such a production out of eating. It never failed to make her laugh. "You see? Food is your friend." He took a drink of his wine to wash down the steak. He liked to hear her laugh. She hadn't done much laughing lately. Neither of them had. If he took this assignment, he wouldn't have much opportunity to hear that laugh much over the next few weeks. He really didn't want to think about that right now. There was plenty of time later in the evening to talk about it. Now, he just wanted to be with her. To hear her laugh. They finished dinner and went to the theater. He loved the theater. He always had. She was raised in the era of the small screen. It had been one of his great pleasures to expose her to live performances. He even felt as if she were enjoying them as much as he. Tonight he had gotten tickets to see A Midsummer Night's Dream. One of his favorites. He watched her watch the production with open delight on her face. "I liked it. But it was sad." She had cried at the end. He knew that she would. He held her hand as they walked along the path at the water's edge. The warmth of her hand in his stirred his heart. She stirred his heart. "I know. Life is sad sometimes." His voice sounded pensive. Whatever he was concerned about, she was sure he was going to tell her soon. He had been trying to hide it from her, unsuccessfully, all evening. "So, are you going to tell me about it?" She looked at his face. He tried to reign in the look of surprise that he felt wash across his face. How many times had he underestimated her? He was going to have to stop doing that. He smiled at her. "How long have you known?" She smiled back. "Since you picked me up. You know, Nick, you're not all that hard to read. Not for me." He interlaced his fingers with hers in their grasp. "I'm glad." He was. Nat had a way of keeping him honest. With himself, with her, with life. He needed her. He stopped at a park bench and turned to face her. "Nat." His voice was quiet. She felt the emotion he was radiating. The feelings they shared for each other boiling just beneath the surface now. She was a little frightened. She waited for him. "I need to talk to you. Sit down?" He motioned toward the bench. His voice was still quiet. She sat down and he sat next to her. He never relinquished the hold he had on her hand. He took a deep breath before he began. "The captain has asked me to take an assignment undercover. If I take it I won't be able to see you for a while. Possibly several weeks." He watched her face carefully. He noted what he had expected to see. Concern. "What kind of assignment?" Her voice was even. She was thankful. Undercover meant danger. It always did. Nick could take care of himself. She knew that. She was concerned anyway. "Prison." "He wants you to take an assignment at a prison?" "Not at. In." The look of concern on her face was promptly replaced with one of fear. "In prison? Undercover? Like a prisoner?" He looked down at the hand he held. It was griping his hard enough to have made it hurt if he had been human. "Yes." "Nick, you can't..." This was really dangerous. He had to be so careful as it was. In prison, every move he made would be scrutinized. Something a vampire couldn't afford. How was he going to feed? He could take small amounts of food, but, he still needed blood to keep from starving. She knew that. How was he going to explain his allergy to the sun? What would they do with the night/day schedule he had to keep? Prisons weren't exactly flexible places. "Nat. Listen to me." He placed his other hand on top of the one of hers that he held. "I know there are dangers. The captain gave me the option to decline the assignment. I may not even take it." By the tone of his voice she knew that he had already decided. "You're going to do it. Nick. This is really dangerous." "I know. I have to do this, Nat. The reason he asked me to do it makes sense." He had tried to plan how he would explain it all to her. It wasn't going like he had planned. With Nat, it generally never did. "What reasons?" She looked at him expectantly. This had better be good... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 3) by Carrie Krumtum It was quiet as they drove back to her apartment. She had listened to him explain his reasons for accepting the assignment. It did make sense. If you were suicidal. It frightened her. The thought of him in that prison. In harms way. Yes, he was a vampire. He was very capable of taking care of himself. That didn't make her feel any better. Not at all. She wanted to shout at him. To slap him. To hug him to her and never let him go. To cry. You would think I was seeing him off to war, she thought. I guess I kind of am. He was going to war against internal corruption. A challenge someone like Nick just couldn't pass up. He had explained it all. The prisoners who were turning up dead. The long history of guards and warden. The allegations of sexual abuse among the prisoners. And the last death. It had been the deciding factor. A young prisoner. 22. Died of massive rectal bleeding. He had been raped and beaten. The report stated that he had been repeatedly assaulted over a period of two days, raped orally and anally perhaps more than sixty times. The damage to his body was ignored by the prison staff and he was allowed to bleed to death, alone, in solitary confinement. He was the one assaulted and they placed him in solitary. He was a 'trouble maker'. He had dared to tell his attorney that he was being threatened with sexual assault. He was convicted of auto theft, doing three years in prison. Young, handsome, weak. She had done autopsies on men who had been raped while incarcerated. The damage that was done to their bodies was enormous. More than she would have thought possible. Sometimes requiring surgery to repair. She could just picture the body of that young man. Closing her eyes she tried to shut the image out. She knew that Nick wouldn't be able to just let this assignment pass by. This was something he understood. Vulnerability taken as weakness, then being dominated, twisted, by men without conscience. Abuse. Fear. Isolation. He knew these things intimately. He also understood the importance of someone caring. Caring about these men. Forgotten men. Castaways from their civilized society. The problem had gotten this bad because so few people did care. It was easy to apathetic. The abuse wasn't seen by the population of the country. The abused had been abusers of the public and were paying for their crimes. No second chances. Easy prey. Nick had very strong feelings about that as well. He had taken enough lives, caused enough death to never, ever want to see another life cast away again. If he was ever to regain his mortality, to find some kind of redemption himself, he could not refuse that redemption to anyone else who might be trying to find it. Not if he had it in his power to help them. To make a difference. Oh, she understood his reasons all right. But she didn't like this. Not at all. Reese had asked Nick because he had no family. No wife or kids. He was new to the department and to Toronto. Nick had been there only five years. The prison population did not contain anyone that had been in contact with Nick during an investigation or prosecution. He was pale and handsome. He gave the impression of weakness while possessing innate personal strength. Both physically and mentally. He was a good choice. Perfect in fact. From a law enforcement point of view anyway. She sighed. It really did make sense. Damn. They were parked in front of his loft. She thought they were going back to her apartment. She was so deep in thought she hadn't even noticed that they had changed destinations. "Nat?" Nick voice was soft. "I thought you were taking me home?" She looked at him questioningly. "I just thought you might need to, or, want to...talk...or something." He didn't know exactly what to say. All he knew for sure was that she was scared. He wanted to help her to understand that this was something he felt he had to do. That he would be all right. And that he needed her. "And," he looked into her eyes, "I just didn't want to leave you yet." The pleading in his eyes told her that he felt exactly like she did. They were going to be apart all to soon. He didn't want to leave her anymore than she wanted him to leave. Not for a day much less a few weeks. They sat in front of the fire. He was holding her. Smelling her. Listening to every sound her body made. Reveling in her closeness. Her warmth. It might be a long time before they could spend time like this together again. It would be dawn in a few hours. The night had been spent talking, listening, sharing, and then finally, in silence. He let his emotions for her swell within him. He spent his time thinking about how he felt. About everything he wished he could tell her. What he knew she needed to hear. "Nat?" She lifted her head from his shoulder to look him in the face. "Hum?" "I need you, Nat. I need you in my life. The only thing I regret about this assignment is being away from you." His voice was quiet but earnest. The tenderness in his face made her heart ache for him. She needed him as well. Tears welled up, unbidden, in her eyes. He touched her face. Caressed her soft skin. Brushed away the first tear with his thumb. She thrilled to his touch. He felt her tremble at his touch. The feelings they shared rose between them, without words, without sound. Love. Hope. Desire. He kissed her. Gently, tenderly, with rising passion. He took her fully in his arms and embraced her as he let his passion rise in their kiss. He felt the rise of the vampire as well. The passion igniting the bloodlust. He kept it in tight control for a few moments, but felt it strain to be free. To taste her blood. To feel her life. He broke away from their kiss and pulled her to him. He held to her, feeling her heart beat within her breast as he held her next to him. The embrace was all they could have now. She knew that. Her need for him was so strong though. He would never hurt her. He couldn't. Not even when possessed. Crazed by an evil she could never understand. Even then, he couldn't harm her. He loved her. Nick loved her. She knew that. And it made her cry. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 4) by Carrie Krumtum The look of concentration on her face only confirmed his feelings of her. Natalie Lambert was an extraordinary woman. Smart, capable and in love with his detective. He had allowed her to be present during the briefing because both she and Knight had insisted. Knight loved this woman. It didn't take a detective to figure that one out. He would have told her he was going to take the undercover assignment and be away for some weeks. No one knew how long for sure. And prison was not going to be a picnic. They both needed to know, honestly, what he was up against in there. Reese could see that she was taking in all the details, calculating risks, weighing dangers to him, thinking of ways to provide support for him. She was extraordinary. "The problem is that the Service cannot, by policy, remove the warden without evidence of misconduct that is proven to be sanctioned by him. The death of Billy Talvert in solitary confinement can be associated with a few prison staffers. Two guards and a prison nurse. They have been suspended pending investigation. The warden knows we will be investigating the institution. He will have everything in order. The only way to find out how deep this thing goes is to have irrefutable evidence. From a prisoner. That's where Detective Knight comes in." Natalie listened to Fred Robertson. He was with the Solicitor General's office. His new responsibility was the investigation of allegations of misconduct of members of the Correctional Service toward inmates. The death of young men in prison as a result of sexual assault was his first challenge. "None of the current inmates will testify?" Fred Robertson looked at Dr. Lambert. She was here against his wishes. He didn't want anyone not directly involved in the investigation to aware of the undercover aspect. It posed significant danger to the officer on the inside. Prisoners tend to view cops on the inside as shark bait. A cop on the inside would be killed, in a hurry, if they were discovered. Not that Dr. Lambert would purposefully risk Detective Knight's identity. She was naive. Just about everyone was. Prison is a different universe. Most of the general public just didn't want to know what went on in prison. It was much easier to send people away when they remained cold, arcane institutions. With patience, Fred explained, "No, Dr. Lambert, they won't. There is an unwritten code in prison. Snitches die. Badly. No inmate will testify. The death of Billy Talvert was a warning to all inmates. Tell anyone and you die." "So you want Knight to find out how much the warden knows about the gang rapes? How is he going to find that out? As a prisoner he will be with the general population, not in the warden's office." Reese didn't like the odds of Nick finding out anything in there. Knight was resourceful, yeah, but that was damn near impossible. "The Correctional Service Intake Officer at the prison will be given a complete list of Detective Knight's skills. It is part of the system to place inmates to work in areas that benefit the institution. Free labor. Saves the taxpayers. Anyway, Detective Knight is computer literate. Unusual in the prison population. They will most certainly place him in a clerical position in the administration offices." That concerned Natalie. "Wait a minute. What about Nick's allergy to the sun. Aren't those offices only open during the day? How will they protect him from the sunlight?" Fred had already thought about that. "The offices in this prison are located in the basement of the main building. There are no windows except in the warden's own office. He can spend his entire time in the prison without ever going outside. All the buildings are connected by an underground tunnel system. Transport is generally more secure from one area of the prison to another that way. We will have Detective Knight arriving in the early morning hours. This is not uncommon when inmates are brought from distant destinations after transfers or extradition's. He will be processed and in a cell long before sun up." "What exactly does processed mean?" Natalie had a vague idea. She had seen movies about prison. Strip searches and delousing procedures were always depicted as cold and dehumanizing. She hugged herself at the thought of Nick having to go through all that. "He will be treated exactly like any other prisoner arriving at the institution. I'm sure Detective Knight is well aware of the procedures." Fred looked at Knight and knew that he was. Nick placed his hand on Nat's arm. "Nat, I'll be all right. I can't receive any special treatment other than prevention from contact with the sunlight. They would know I was undercover. That would defeat the point of sending me in there. It's okay. I know what I'm up against." She looked at him. Of course he did. She didn't. She wasn't sure that she wanted to know about everything either. It was hard enough as it was just thinking about him in a prison. But to be put through the whole demoralizing process. Nick had a hard enough time thinking of himself in human terms now. What would being in prison do to his self image? It frightened her. A weak smile was all she could manage. "I know." Her voice was filled with her fear. "One last thing Detective." Fred Robertson looked at both of them. He wanted to make this point perfectly clear. "You will be able to receive mail, but no visitors. It is just too risky. And the mail will be censored. Prison mail always is. I will leave guidelines for writing letters with you both. If you aren't sure you can write each other without breaking your cover, I wouldn't. We asked for a single officer for this assignment to prevent this very thing. No strings at home to be followed and endanger the officer." He fixed Natalie with a stare. "I think it's important for you to understand Dr. Lambert. I appreciate your feelings for Detective Knight. But, he must remain undercover until he is sure, one way or the other, about the wardens involvement in all of this. We will have nearly daily contact with him by way of his attorney. An attorney from our office. You must not jeopardize this operation. His life might be in the balance." Natalie looked back at Robertson. She understood. She was really scared about this whole thing, but she understood. "I understand." Fred took some files out of his briefcase and handed them to Detective Knight. Closing the briefcase and rising from his chair he moved to leave. "Good. I don't want to sound cold Dr. Lambert. But, this is an important investigation. Men's lives are at risk. The Solicitor General is personally concerned about this whole issue. Detective Knight is doing our office a great service." He reached the door and turned back to address Nick. "We will be picking you up here at two a.m. tomorrow morning Detective. Those files contain all the information on your arrest and conviction record. Please review them carefully. Until tomorrow." He glanced at each of them and then left. Captain Reese looked at his detective. "Nick, are you sure you want to do this?" Nick still had his hand on Natalie's arm. He glanced at the captain and then returned his attention to Nat. "Yes I am, cap." "Okay," Reese sure hoped he was doing the right thing by letting Nick take this assignment. It was more dangerous that he liked. And by the looks on Natalie's face, it was far more dangerous that she liked as well. "But, Nick?" He waited until Nick looked back at him. "Be careful. I don't want to lose my best detective to the Correctional Service." He tried to smile. He failed. "I will captain. Don't worry." Nick did smile. "I'll be doing enough of that for everybody." Natalie's voice was filled with her concern. Both men looked at her with open appreciation for her feelings. She would be worried. They all would be. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 5) by Carrie Krumtum The darkness of an abandoned church had a feeling that was unique. The fact that this particular church now was the home of a vampire redefined irony. Nick could tell that the person he was looking for was there. Sensing him, Nick entered the back room that doubled as living quarters. Vachon was sitting with his guitar, playing a very lovely Spanish piece. He was very talented Nick noted. The music was beautiful. Vachon came to the end of the piece he was playing and looked up at his visitor. "I don't make a habit of attending the policemen's ball. I'm sorry, but I think you'll have to sell your ticket's to someone else." Nick smiled. Vachon had an arrogant air about him that was roguish and annoying. But the ladies loved it. He couldn't be angry with him. Vachon was Vachon. He was proving to be more responsible than he suspected even Vachon had thought was possible for him. He had protected Tracy from discovery by the Enforcers up to now. For that and that alone Nick was in his debt. "We don't do balls anymore. Now we do benefits." "Ah. So," Vachon set down his guitar and crossed his arms, "to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" "I need a favor." Nick made sure to keep his tone even. Vachon was under no obligation to him in anyway. Vachon studied Knight. Knight had been a hard one for him to figure. He was a powerful vampire. Powerful yes, but as different as they come. He was a vampire who didn't want to be a vampire anymore. A kind of running joke in the community. A joke that no one was very willing to talk about. Knight represented everything that a vampire feared. Doubt in their nature, surety of their damnation, reverence for humanity, regret for their behavior. He would be considered a danger to the community if he was anyone else. But he wasn't anyone else. He was Knight. Created by LaCroix, an ancient that was respected and feared. Knight, the man who walked in both worlds. He had earned the respect of members of the community for his refusal to harm the community. He protected others of their kind even though he no longer wished to be a part of their world. He also had a reverence for life. All life. It was hard to understand, but it was the defining aspect of his character. His was a life that was as close to 'goodness' as a vampire could get. Beyond that, there was the power that he radiated. Strength, courage. Others feared him because of it. Vachon had seen him angry. He was very glad he was not Knight's enemy. Not that he was Knight's friend, still, he had a grudging respect for him. And, Knight had saved his life. Brought the anecdote to him. He would have died that night. He owed him. "What can I do for you?" Nick sat down on the crate that opposed the chair Vachon occupied. "I have to go out of town for a while. I would appreciate it if you kept an eye on Tracy." He continued to smile. "Tracy's a cop. She can handle herself." "Against the average criminal element, yes. But we both know her universe doesn't just contain the average element, don't we." The smile slowly vanished from Knight's face. He was serious. Responsibility. Knight's by-word. Knight held him responsible for Tracy's knowledge of the vampire community. He always would. Vachon sighed. "All right. I'll keep an eye on her. Where are you flying off to?" Nick stood. He judged that Vachon would keep his word. "I going out of town on an assignment for the department. I don't know how long I'll be gone. Several weeks probably. I just wanted to make sure Tracy would be in one HUMAN piece when I got back." "You haven't had great luck with partners have you?" The minute he said it he regretted it. The look on Knight's face told him that that was a subject of particular soreness with him. Knight emitted a low growl. Standing, Vachon raised his hands, "Sorry. I was only joking. I'm sorry. It was in poor taste. Okay?" Nick shook his head and tried to calm down. He still hurt over the loss of Schanke and Cohen. It would be a long time before those particular wounds healed. The last thing he needed was Vachon's flippant attitude rubbing salt into the wounds. Still, he probably meant nothing by it. Vampire humor. "Okay. Just don't let anything happen to Tracy. SHE is my partner now." Vachon nodded his head in understanding. If Knight had wanted to motivate him, he had done so. The more he thought about it, the more he warmed to the idea. It could be worse. Tracy wasn't such a bad figure to have to keep an eye on... Tears. She hated the fact that she could not control the tears. "Nat, this is a chance to see if you are right. If it is the blood, well, now I will have to be without it for a while." Nick was trying to asway her fears. He meant what he said though. He had thought about this aspect of the assignment. Nat had always insisted that it was the ingestion of blood that kept him from coming back across. He knew he could digest foods and supply the energy to his body that he needed. The protein shakes had proven that. His need for the blood was rooted in the bloodlust. The psychological or metaphysical aspect of his vampirism. Prison would make him go cold turkey on the blood. He had tried by himself, with a twelve step program, with Nat's encouragement. He just had not been able to give it up. "Maybe this is just what I needed Nat. You know I've tried. Now I have no choice. If it can be done, we'll find out." She was turned away from him. She didn't want him to look at her as she cried. He didn't need to see her weakness. He needed her strength. Her belief in him. Her apartment felt cold to her all of a sudden. Taking her into his arms from behind, he turned her to face him. It was hard on her. Hell, it was hard on him. He looked at her with all the tenderness he could. Brushing away her tears he kissed her forehead and embraced her. She leaned into him. Closing his eyes he stroked her hair and then just held her. She clung to him. She let herself be held. Surrounded by the strength of his arms. She cried until she had no more tears to cry then she slowly pulled away. "Nick? I'm afraid. I'm afraid of losing you." Her voice sounded small, almost lost. She swallowed hard. There was nothing but compassion and caring in his face. "You won't. Nothing could keep me from you, Nat. Nothing." He kissed her then. With all the love he felt, he kissed her. Tracy Vetter and Joe Reese watched as Nick was greeted by Fred Robertson. Robertson would escort him to the prison transport bus. He was being transferred to the prison as an extradited prisoner from the US who was supposedly convicted in absentia for murder. Natalie wasn't there. Nick had said his good-bye's to her earlier. "Are you ready Detective?" Fred Robertson asked. "As ready as I'll ever be." He turned to Tracy and the captain. "Try not to give the cap too much trouble. And, if you could get all my extra paperwork done while I'm gone I'd appreciate it." He smiled at his partner. "Nick..." Tracy wasn't smiling. "Hey, let's not get too melodramatic here. I'll only be gone a couple of weeks. Just think of it as a vacation. Okay?" Tracy did smile at that. Nick was the first partner she had ever had that treated her like she had a brain in her head. He respected her. She just couldn't shake the bad feeling she had about this assignment. She wasn't briefed. All she knew was that he was doing a job for the Solicitor General's office. She just didn't like being out of the information loop. "Okay. And Nick, whatever you're doing, be careful." She hugged him briefly. Reese shook Nick's hand. "That goes for all of us Nick. Be careful and come back as quick as you can. We'll miss you around here." Nick gave his captain an easy smile. "I will cap." With that, he followed Richardson out of the precinct and into federal custody. A prisoner of the province of Ontario. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 6) by Carrie Krumtum The bus contained a driver, two guards and one prisoner as it pulled into the yard of the prison grounds. Flood lights created artificial day in the yard. Awaiting the bus were four more guards and a prison nurse. The prisoner would be processed and then escorted to his cell. It was four forty in the morning. "Stand." The prisoner stood. "Off the bus." The prisoner stepped off the bus, shackled hands and feet. "Stop." The prisoner stopped in his tracks. "Approach the yellow line." The prisoner located the yellow line painted on the asphalt and walked towards it. "Stop." The prisoner stopped just short of the yellow line. A guard approached the prisoner and looked him up and down. "You are no longer anybody. Here, you are prisoner 578236. Your name is unimportant. Do you understand, prisoner 578236?" "Yes." The prisoner responded. "Good. You will be processed, prisoner 578236. You will be taken to a five by eight foot cell, prisoner 578236. You will be locked into that cell, prisoner 578236. You will do each and every thing you are instructed to do by any staff member of this institution, prisoner 578236. Do you understand, prisoner 578236?" "Yes." The prisoner responded. "What is your name?" "Nick Knight." The prisoner responded. The prisoner was hit in the face. "You are not paying attention, prisoner 578236. Your name is unimportant. Here, you are prisoner 578236. Now, prisoner 578236, what is your name?" "Nick Knight." The prisoner responded. The prisoner was punched in the stomach. "You no longer have that name, prisoner 578236. Your are no one anymore. Here, you are prisoner 578236. Once more, prisoner 578236, what is your name?" "Nick Knight." The prisoner responded. The prisoner was hit in the face again, this time with sufficient force to knock him to his knees. "YOU ARE PRISONER 578236. YOU ARE NOT A PERSON HERE. YOU ARE A PRISONER. PRISONER 578236. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?" "Nick Knight." The prisoner responded from his knees. The prisoner was hit in the back and fell onto his side doubled over in apparent pain. The prisoner moaned. "That's enough." A voice from behind the line of guards stated. The prisoner could not see the face of the person who made the remark. "Process him." "Stand." The prisoner stood, slowly. The shackles made the effort much more complicated. He was having a hard time getting his balance. No one helped the prisoner. "Follow this guard." The prisoner followed the guard that was indicated. The guard entered a door that lead into the processing center. "Stop." The prisoner stopped. Two of the guards that had followed the prisoner into the processing center removed the shackles the bond the prisoner. "Take off your clothes." The prisoner began to remove his clothes. He removed everything but his underware. "Take off you clothes." The prisoner removed his underware. He stood nude in the processing center. "Step up to the wall." The prisoner stepped up to the wall indicated by the guard. "Turn around." The prisoner turned around. Before he could completely face the guard a hose was turned on and his was hit in the face with cold water. He staggered slightly but managed to remain standing. The water was run up and down the front of his body. "Turn around." The prisoner turned around. The water was run up and down the back of his body. The hose was shut off and from above him a fine spray of fluid was turned on. The fluid, smelling chemically strong was allowed to shower him for a full minute. The hose was once again turned on him and the water was run up and down the back of his body. "Turn around." The prisoner turned around. The water was run up and down the front of his body. The water was then turned off. "Open your mouth." The prisoner opened his mouth. The nurse stepped up and using a tongue depressor inspected his mouth. "Close your mouth." The prisoner closed his mouth. The nurse then looked into his eyes, up his nose, in both of his ears and pulling his head down, through his hair. "Turn around. Bend over and grab your ankles." The prisoner turned around, bent over and grabbed his ankles. The nurse then inspected his genitals and did a digital exam of his rectum. "Stand. Turn around." The prisoner stood and turned around. The prisoner was given a towel. "Dry off." The prisoner used the towel to dry his body. The towel was taken away from him. "Follow the guard." The prisoner followed the guard through a door into a room that contained a stack of linen and clothing on the floor. "Dress." The prisoner dressed himself in the clothing that was stacked on the floor. He was given back his own shoes and he put them on. "Pick up the stack." The prisoner picked up the stack of linens provided for him. "Follow the guard." The prisoner followed the guard through a door into another room that contained a white wall with height demarkations, a counter and two more guards. "Stand on the yellow line." The prisoner found the yellow line and stood on it. The guards recited a list of the prisoners clothing items they had removed from him when he undressed. "Sign here." The prisoner shifting the burden of the linens to one arm, signed the paper that was placed in front of him, and then shifted the burden back into both hands. "Follow the guard." The prisoner followed the guard through a sliding door. He noted the electronic mechanism release and then reengage as the door slid shut behind him. He followed the guard down a long corridor, through several more sliding doors until he came to a stop before a barred door. This door slid open and he entered the cell block. The prisoner followed the guard up two flights of stairs to a row of cells, they turned left. The prisoner followed the guard to the seventh cell. "Stop." The prisoner stopped. The other cell block inmates began to shout at the prisoner. He was made to stand there for several minutes. Among the things he heard shouted at him were terms he remembered reading in the report given him to prepare for his incarceration. "No man." "Punk." "Catcher." "Sweet boy." The prisoner stood still while he listened. "Into the cell." The prisoner entered the cell. The door to the cell was slid home with a loud crash and he heard the locking mechanism secure the cell door closed. The guards left the prisoner alone then. His cell was five foot by eight foot with a sink, a toilet, a bunk, a mattress and no window. The prisoner unfolded the mattress on the bunk and made the bed with the linens he had carried into the cell. He laid down on the bunk and placed his arm over his eyes. "I miss you, Nat," he whispered. Prisoner 578236 lay awake thinking about her. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 7) by Carrie Krumtum Natalie couldn't sleep. For the sixth time in half an hour she checked the clock by her bed. It was five minutes past the last time she checked. Four forty am. He was probably at the prison by now. Being treated like a criminal. Be processed, whatever that meant. She sighed. A letter. She decided to write him a letter. The guidelines Fred Richardson had given now lay on her desk. She sat down at her desk to review the guidelines again... Damn. Four forty in the morning. He hadn't been able to accomplish a damn thing for the past two hours. He stacked all of the unfinished projects on the corner of his desk. Joe Reese decided he was going to go home to his wife. He wasn't doing a bit of good at the precinct. He couldn't concentrate. All he seemed to be able to think about was his detective in a prison cell. The danger that situation posed for him. Knight had taken the assignment just like Reese knew he would. Knight knew the risks. So why did HE feel so damned guilty? Her tea was cold. It was the second cup of tea she had made without drinking. She just couldn't shake this feeling she had. She felt like she should be able to help her partner somehow. Like he needed her help. Tracy didn't like the feelings she was having. Not one bit. Sighing, she decided to go make herself another cup of tea. Maybe, on the way home this morning she would stop at a certain old church and say a prayer for him. It was four forty am. A little over two hours to go in her shift. She poured out the cold tea from her cup, filled her cup from the water cooler and headed for the microwave... "I get the feeling that you are lonely tonight. That you are missing someone. Someone close to you. I know how that feels. I miss someone as well. I miss you, when you are not here with me. Would you miss me if I were not here with you? The Nightcrawler hopes so. "So here's to loved ones parted from us. Let us all be lonely together." He keyed up the music and turned off the microphone. Sitting back in his chair he stared out at the nearly disserted club. The last few stragglers of the nights festivities remaining, not willing to go home to empty homes or empty lives. It was four forty am. Dawn was two hours away. Nicholas would be hard at work still. Whatever he was doing, it was causing him to feel lonely, isolated. LaCroix sensed it. Tiny listened to the jeers that were shouted at the new prisoner. He watched him carefully. From the bunk in his cell he had a clear view of him. He was good looking. A curse for a new inmate. The ugly ones always did better in the beginning. There would be fighting over this one. He tried to gauge his strength. He shook his head. It was going to be a rough few days for him. If he was as weak as he appeared, he might not make it at all. The last young, good looking one they brought in here only lasted seventeen days. Griffin shouted at his new prospect. He was a looker. He was slender. About six feet tall. Blond. He would make a nice catcher if he lived through the mill. Billy had been too weak to survive the mill. This one looked pale. Too pale. Well, at least he'd have one shot at pitchin' him. "Sssweeeet booyyy," he shouted. The shouting lasted almost half an hour. Rank always hated the welcome calls. The joint was hard enough to get through. If you were unfortunate enough to get noticed it was especially tough. This poor guy had everything going wrong for him. He arrived alone, he was good looking and he appeared pale and weak. Rank gave him a month. Hell, he had given the last one a month. That last one cost him twenty five cigarettes. He hated to lose a bet. Maybe he would give this guy only three weeks. He looked like he might just barely run longer than the last one did. Jojo tried to decide what he would wager on the new boy. Rank had lost their last bet. He decided to bet the same as before. Only he gave this one a shorter run. Maybe two weeks. By the sounds Griff and his hounds were making, this guy wasn't getting any honeymoon time. He was going through the mill soon. Real soon. "Hey, no man. Are you a punk? No man! Punk. I got a pitch for ya." Hully whispered from the edge of his cell. They locked the new guy in next to him. He was a pale son of a bitch. Pretty, too. Griff would want him. Shit, Griff wanted all of 'em. Well, when they put him through the mill, he'd get his turn. Hully alway got his turn. Damn shame, Chap thought. He had been praying for the new guy. When he saw him, he felt sorry for him. It was going to be another battle for a newby. The handsome ones had to fight so hard to get by. If he had just been older or black. White guys were premium stock. Chap had pretty much been left alone from his arrival. He thanked God for that. Being a forty-eight year old black man didn't hurt either. He hadn't known the Lord in his youth. He prayed that this new guy did. He was going to need the Lord's strength if he was going to survive. Chap decided to pray some more. Prisoner 578236 listened to the welcome calls. The sounds surrounded him like a fog. The heartbeats of the occupants of the cell block pounded at him. All those hearts beating, but none of them the one he wished he could hear right now. None of them belonged to her. None of them did... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 8) by Carrie Krumtum The loud snapping sound of his cell door lock being released broke into his revere. The door slid back and added to the clanging being generated by all the cell doors in the cell block opening. He stood up and looked out of his cell door as the light above his head come on. "Turn out!" All the prisoners in the cell block exited their cells to stand on the yellow line painted on the concrete walks that ran in front of each row of cells on all three tiers of the cell block. Nick did the same. The guards waited until the hubbub of noise settled to silence as a new day began. In the silence, all eyes were on the new boy in the block. Aware of the scrutiny, Nick kept a blank expression and concentrated on listening to the guards. He had listened to the welcome calls. His behavior in the next few days would socialize him into the prison population. He was well aware of the expectations others had of him. They would be surprised. "Fall out!" The prisoners on his tier turned to their right and he followed suit. As the single file column moved toward the stairs they all kept equidistant from one another. "Keep the nickel, punk." Hully whispered to him from behind. "Don't need no punk sending me to the hole." The nickel? Nick estimated that there was about five feet between each prisoner in the moving column. The nickel. He kept the distance. The column moved out of the cell block and into the dining hall. As he passed tables, now occupied with prisoners from other cell blocks, he was scrutinized anew. His listened to the kissing sounds and 'catcher' remarks without expression. The attempt of the guards to dehumanize him at his arrival seemed pretty tame to his welcome by the other inmates. The whole thing was like a sick dream. Picking up tray, utensils and cup, he moved through the food line allowing items to be deposited on his tray. The smell of the food was nauseating. Of the fair, he was sure of only three items, powdered eggs, toast and coffee. The remaining items on his tray may have been a potato mixture or some kind of gruel and a meat patty that consisted of pork by products. Although his heightened sense of smell afforded him awareness of many things, it did little to identify the nutritional value of his first prison meal. He opted for attempting to eat the items he could readily identify. He sat down at the end of an empty table and took a preliminary bite of the eggs. Tiny watched the new guy with interest. He was a cool customer. The cat calls didn't appear to faze him. He looked over his tray with the same inspective eye as a hardened con would. Tiny guessed that the newbe had done a fair share of time already. The rumors had it that he was extradited from the States and was in for murder. He didn't look like the homicidal type. But then, Tiny didn't look tiny either. Hard to say with some guys. Maybe this newbe was going to surprise him. As he attempted to eat that portion of his breakfast that he had decided might be edible, he wished that he had one of Nat's protein shakes. They tasted awful, but, they had to taste better than this stuff. A half a dozen bites was all he could manage. He hated the smell of coffee. Nat loved her caffeine. He took a few sips of his coffee and wondered again how she could drink such large quantities of the stuff. As he set his cup down he heard the guard approach him from behind. "Stand up, 578236." He stood up and turned to face the guard. "Pick up your tray and follow me." Picking up his tray he followed the guard. Stopping at the dishwashing conveyor the guard simply pointed at the food disposal area. Nick scrapped the uneaten portion of his meal into the garbage and deposited his tray, cup and utensils on the conveyor. "You learn fast. Good." The guard moved on and he followed him. They moved down a corridor, past a barred door and into an underground passageway that lead to the administration offices. They came to a stop outside the office of the warden and Nick was faced with another guard. The new guard looked him up and down. He held a clipboard. "Says here you can use a computer. That right?" His voice contained none of the scorn Nick had heard in the voices of the other guards. "Yeah." "You educated?" The guard looked him in the face. "Yeah." "Okay, school boy. You're gonna work in the office. We need someone to do the record entries and we don't need to be training no body to use the computer. Either you can do it or you can't. If you can't, you go to the laundry. Got it?" The guard came to stand immediately in front of him and added a touch of threat to his voice. Nick looked him in the eyes for the briefest of moments and then looked past him to the wall again. "Yeah. I got it." He kept his voice carefully neutral. Richardson had been right. They would put him to work in the administration offices. It remained to be seen if there was any information he could glean from the situation. The guards name that secured the administration offices was Conley. He took Nick on a brief tour of the offices and showed him the computer terminal he would be using. The rules for addressing the office staff were simple. He wasn't allowed to. If he had a question, he was to ask Conley. He would be given a break once every two hours for ten minutes. He was not allowed to talk or make any sound other than to address Conley, and only when he had a question. If he was not able to demonstrate progress each day with the assignments given him, he would be transferred to work in the laundry. No second chances. After his 'orientation' to his new duties he was brought to the wardens office and made to stand outside the door until the warden was ready to see him. The warden saw all of the new inmates on their first day. "You can go in." Conley told him. Conley followed Nick into the office and stood at the door. The light, from the windows at the top of the wall where the basement of the building extended above ground level, was cast in two streams on either side of the wardens desk. Nick made sure to stand between the two streams of light and well back of their location on the floor. These were the only windows in the administrative offices. He figured that he wouldn't have to be in this office too often and if he could avoid the sun's rays he should be fine. Warden Hardesty looked up from the folder on his desk and addressed Nick. The moment he spoke, Nick recognized the voice from earlier that morning. It was the voice that had stopped the beating given him by the welcoming guard. "So 578236, your name is Nick Knight...." All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 9) by Carrie Krumtum The post office was not yet open when she arrived. She was early. She had thought about dropping the letter into the collection box at the front of her building, but the collection time posted was not until the afternoon. No, she wanted to make sure the letter was well on it's way by this afternoon. As the clerk unlocked the door she was waiting to enter. The church was as quiet as...well...a church. It really wasn't a church anymore. It was the home of a vampire. Still, Tracy hadn't been to an actual church in quite some time. Not since college. A wedding here and there, yeah, but that didn't really count. She did feel the need to talk about her feelings though. And to pray. For some reason she couldn't quite define, even for herself, her discomfort with the whole situation. It made her feel like she ought to be praying for Nick. As far as she could tell, Nick wasn't much for church either. He could quote the bible like a priest, but he rarely discussed anything even remotely religious in context. Politically correct maybe, or maybe just agnostic. Whatever the deal was, she doubted that he was praying for himself. So, someone needed to. It might as well be her. Yeah, maybe someone else was more likely to get results. She and God had not exactly been on a first name basis lately. Especially since she had discovered a new kind of creature in God's universe. But, perhaps God could see His way clear to listen to her about this. After all, it was for Nick, not herself. He watched her from the shadows. She was standing looking at the portion of the sanctuary that would have held the alter. With her eyes closed she moved her lips in silent supplication. A prayer. There was no sound but he could read her lips. She was praying for her partner's safety. Whatever Knight was into, it was probably trouble. The discussion in the yard turned to the new boy almost as soon as the first inmates hit the dirt. It was always that way. New shipments meant new bets to be made, new territory to claim. Rank waited for Jojo to get out into the yard. He had listened to Griff and his hounds plan their mill session. The amount of the bribe for the guard and how much each of them was to contribute. They were wasting no time. He was reconsidering his wager as he listened. Tiny was listening as well. There was something different about this newbe. He had first thought that he looked weak. But watching him this morning, he wasn't so sure. This newbe just might surprise everyone. "...is that right?" The warden looked at him with mild amusement on his face. "Yes." Nick said, careful to keep voice and affect perfectly neutral. "Yes SIR." Conley chided him from behind. "Yes, sir." Nick corrected without looking behind him. "Well then, I guess that means that you think you are better than everyone else in this institution. Is that so?" The smile on the warden's face broadened ever so slightly. "No, sir." "You could have fooled me this morning, 578236. Or do you consider punishment beneath you?" His tone took on a sarcastic edge. "No, sir." Looking down at the folder on his desk, the warden continued, "I have your file here, 578236. It says here that you are guilty of murder. Is that right?" "Yes, sir." He looked up at the prisoner. This was the first time in his recent memory that a prisoner had admitted to his crime during the first interview. He would have to pay close attention to this one. He had a way about him. Cocky. His external control was the best he had seen in quite a while. He nodded his head. He would have to see just how much control this one had. A few days to familiarize him with the routine, then he would throw him to the wolves. He would sink or swim. Either way, he would break Knight's control. It was always necessary to break them. No one ever left his prison unless they were broken... The chapel was quiet today. Chap knew it would be. Everyone was in the yard discussing the new guy. He moved all the furniture into a corner and prepared to strip the wax off the floor. He had been praying for the newbe since his arrival. The hounds would be planning the mill session. The books would be making their bets. The warden would be making his standard speech about his way of doing things in his joint. And the newbe would be overwhelmed. He needed prayer. "You will do exactly what you are told to do. If you do not, you will be punished. You will not engage in the harassment of any other prisoner in this institution. If you do, you will be punished. You will speak with respect to each and every staff member of this institution. If you do not, you will be punished. You will report any infractions you witness to the staff. If you do not, you will be punished. Do you understand these simple rules, 578236?" The warden looked at him expectantly. "Yes, sir." "Good. You may go." With that, the warden closed the folder in front of him and dropped it into a pile of other papers on his desk and moved on to another document. Behind him, Nick heard Conley open the door to the office. "Let's go." Nick turned and left the warden's office. He had the distinct impression that the warden was perfectly aware of everything that went on in this institution. The problem before him now was finding a way to prove it. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 10) by Carrie Krumtum When she had fallen completely still he approached her. "Trace?" Jumping, she laid her hand on her chest. "OH! God. I wish you would stop doing that." She took a deep breath. "Sorry." He wasn't. He smiled at her with the most mischievousness she could ever remember seeing in one expression. "So...your partner in need of spiritual help?" "How did you...?" Her face was awash with her confusion. Pointing to her lips he said, "Your lips move when you pray. Besides, this is kind of an unusual place to pray, isn't it?" "In a church? I thought it was the perfect place." "It's not a church anymore." He looked about him. "What makes you think God is looking in here, anyway?" It was her turn to smile, "What makes you think He isn't? Besides, we can all use spiritual help from time to time." Javier Vachon just stared at her. He had believed that at one time. That was a long time ago. A whole other existence ago. "So, what's up with your partner?" Tracy moved to sit down on the edge of a crate. "I don't know. It's a federal secret. All I know is that I have a bad feeling about it. I'm worried for him, Vachon." He tilted his head slightly and not-quite-so-absentmindedly ran his fingers along the edge of her jacket collar. "Knight can take care of himself." "I know," his closeness was a little distracting, "but, even good cops like Nick need back-up. I just wish I knew he had some, that's all." More than he needs, probably, he thought. Knight could handle himself. What Vachon wasn't sure of was if he could handle the emotions she was producing in him just now... Lunch was no better than breakfast had been. He was beginning to feel really hungry. He tried to methodically chew small bites of the casserole that occupied the largest portion of the surface of his tray. It was awful. Truly awful. Maybe going cold turkey on the hemoglobin was a bad idea. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. The sound of the hearts that beat within the breasts of the several hundred men in the dining hall seemed to pound at his consciousness. He needed to eat. Period. Nausea or not. He wished for the thousandth time since his arrival that he could see, hear, smell her. Touch her. Less than a day on the inside and he was consumed with thoughts of her. He sighed and took another bite of his lunch. Someone big sat down across from him. Up until now, other than the jeers of the other inmates, no one from the prisoner population had said a civil word to him. He looked up at the man that now opposed him at the table. He kept his expression even. "Heard you're in for murder. That right?" Tiny asked without preamble. Nick regarded him for a moment before answering. This guy was so big that he probably was left to his own devices by the population at large. He had to weigh over 400 pounds and Nick estimated him to be about six foot six. Quite possible the largest man he had ever met. And there was a lot of history in that reckoning. "Yeah." He tone was carefully neutral. There was open surprise on the other man's face. Nick also noted that the conversations around them died away. Others were paying close attention to their exchange. Tiny had never heard a new guy state that he was guilty before. Hell, the whole joint was filled with guys who were innocent of all charges. All you had to do was ask 'em. He smiled and shook his head. Yep, this guy was going to surprise a lot of people. "Name's Tiny." Nick couldn't keep the grin off his face. It was a small slip, but the name was too perfect, too cliched, not to amuse him. "Nick." He introduced himself by extending his hand to the big man. Tiny took the proffered hand. It had been a long time since someone had offered their hand to him. He took it and shook it firmly. It was his turn to grin. This slender, pale guy had a very firm handshake, strong and sure. It wasn't necessary to get the feel of a person quickly in prison, you generally had years to get to know them. But, Tiny was beginning to like this guy. He was chock full of unexpected things. "Yeah, heard that too. Heard you took a few on the chin coming in." Remembering his welcome to the prison, Nick reached up and rubbed his jaw where it should still hurt. He shrugged. Turning his attention back to his lunch, he took another bite. Listening to the heartbeat of his new acquaintance he noted a very irregular rate and he could hear the wheezes in the man's chest when he breathed. Tiny was a big man with a very overworked heart. He was not going to live too many more years. He looked back up at the big man as he chewed. "You been assigned yet?" Tiny wondered where they were going to work Nick. He didn't look like he had done much hard physical labor in his life. Still, with the strength he noted in his hand, he could get by just about anywhere in the joint. As long as he survive the mill. "Office." He swallowed. "Computers." He took a sip of milk from his cup. He would much rather drink another bovine fluid. Glancing at his tray he realized he had eaten perhaps a quarter of his food. He hadn't like any of it, but he had managed to get that much down. He hoped it would be enough, he just couldn't face another bite. "Brain, huh?" Tiny was looking at him with a sizing glance. Of course, he didn't look like a laborer of any kind. It was true he had the equivalent of a college education. Several as a matter of fact. His file revealed that he had a degree in Chemistry and another in Archeology. By any prison standards he was a 'brain'. "I guess." Paying closer attention to the big man he realized that he was almost the exact opposite. Tiny was a man who probably had very little formal education. He was tattooed. Military. He had served for a long period of time in the navy. American. He was sun and wind burned from long hours outdoors. Multiple biker gang tattoos declared that he had gotten that way, not from labor but, from many hours on the open road aboard a motorcycle. Tiny had numerous visible scars from stabbings, bullets, cuts, scrapes. They dominated his right arm. His shield arm. Tiny was left handed. His eyes were clear and intuitive. Others probably thought of the big man as not too bright, but Nick saw that the opposite was closer to the truth. He had seen a lot of hard life, he could read people, he had learned to survive. Still, his size had afforded him more freedom than he had known what to do with as a young man. He had made bad choices, and now, was paying for them. Nick sensed no bitterness in Tiny. Just a resolution to make the best of his circumstances. Nick noted that Tiny was looking past him then. Nick heard the guard approaching. "Stand up." Conley ordered from behind him. He stood up and turned around to face Conley. He picked up his tray, cup and utensils. "Follow me." Conley turned and headed out of the dining hall. He waited for Nick to dispose of his lunch tray before heading back towards the administrative offices. Tiny watched as Nick was led out of the hall. He sure hoped Nick made it through the mill. He thought that he and Nick might be friends. God knows, you can always use another friend in the joint. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 11) by Carrie Krumtum The wagering was completed. Jojo had noted all the bets that had been offered in a small memo book he carried in the front pocket of his shirt. The betting had picked up after Tiny had jawed the newbe. Politeness don't get you too far in the joint. It was a sign of weakness. The average length for all bets was two weeks. Tiny hadn't bet this time. When asked why he just shrugged. Jojo guessed he had his reasons. Looking at his books he estimated that he would make nearly a carton off this one. He smiled. With sticks like that he could get himself something nice. Yeah, this newbe was going to finance something real nice for him. He recognized the GUI system on the computer instantly. It was the same system that the precinct used. It might even be connected to the same government server. If that was true, his access code might even work at this station. He would have to wait to try it out though. The office staff would be watching him pretty close until they got used to his presence. After a couple of days he would become just another assigned inmate to the clerical tasks no body else wanted to do. The first assignment they had given him was to type the entire Prison Health policy manual onto the system. The manual could then be revised digitally and hard copies of any individual policies printed out when needed. The work was dry, but, it kept him busy. After two hours he was told to take a break. Conley escorted him to the bathroom reserved for inmates only on the basement level. He paused briefly before entering to listen. The was no sound of another person in the bathroom. He entered and looked around. No booths, just the standard fixtures. Steel not porcelain. No privacy wasted on the criminal element. After what should have been sufficient time to urinate, he flushed the nearest urinal and washed his hands. He rejoined Conley in the hall. Conley escorted him back up the hallway toward the administrative offices. "Why'd you do it?" Conley asked as they walked. "Do what?" "Keep telling Hoffman your name. Why'd you do that?" Nick wondered why Conley would want to know. It must be pretty common for prisoners to be insubordinate. Surely Conley had witnessed a lot of that kind of rebellion. No, Conley was curious as to what was motivating him. So far, Nick had been able to keep everybody guessing about him. "I answered his question." At that, Conley stopped and turned to him. "You know what he was asking." The tone of his voice took on a menacing edge for the first time since Nick had interacted with him. Nick continued to look at him with a neutral expression. "I asked you a question, 578236. Why?" Conley's eyes bored into him. Nick looked at him with directness. "Because it is my name." He looked away from his face and beyond him then. Conley continued to stare at him for several moments. This one was going to be hard to break. He shook his head. He was too damn smart for his own good. The warden just loved to break the touch ones. And he always broke 'em. One way or another. Hell, that was why everything in the office had been in an uproar lately. The last newbe hadn't been treated after going through the mill. Damn fool, Vickering. He should of known the kid wouldn't live before sending him to the hole. But, this guy.... He had attitude. The kid had just been scared when he tried to tell his attorney about the mill. Hully had been goading him about it for three days before it happened. This guy listened to everything without any expression at all. If he was scared, he wasn't showing it. He had been extradited pretty fast, and before being put in this prison, he had been in a county jail. A small county jail somewhere in the States. Idiot probably had no idea what was in store for him. The warden knew that the mill could break a man. Especially a proud man. And this guy was proud. Too damn proud for a confessed murderer. It just didn't fit. There was something about this guy that just didn't fit. He took a deep breath. He guessed it really didn't matter. He was in for life. Conley would have plenty of time to figure it out. All the time he would ever need. They returned to the office where Nick's work station was without any further conversation. Nick wasn't sure what to make of their exchange. It seemed important to Conley to be able to understand Nick. To find out how strong his will was. How much it would take to break him. "How much?" The guard hadn't thought about that. "What did Vickering get?" "A c-note." "Then make it a c-note and a stone." "Why so much? You know it's gonna be hard to get that much. Maybe it can't be done." The guard laughed at Griffin. "Well, then maybe you'll have to be your own best friend, won't ya?" Damn screw, Griff thought. "What about a c-note plus ten?" It took him a minute to answer. One hundred and ten dollars was better than nothing at all. "Okay. But, listen. It's getting hot in the warden's office. Hardesty might not let the mill work anymore. Watch it." It was Griff's turn to laugh. "Yeah, we'll watch it. Believe me." He was counting on watching it. He was given one hour before dinner to spend in the chapel or the library since he couldn't go out into the yard, sunset wasn't until 7:12 p.m. He opted for the library. Conley had been replaced by a guard named Fitzgerald. The new guard seemed a bit more cordial than Conley. Fitzgerald introduced him to the librarian. "This is Chap. He's the closest thing to a real librarian we've had since I worked here." Chap looked at the new guy. It didn't seem too surprising to find him in the library on his first day. The newbe had the look of books about him. "Hi." "Hi." Nick maintained his neutral demeanor but extended his hand to the librarian. Fitzgerald moved to the table that held some newspapers and, retrieving the Sports segment of one of them, went to stand at the door. "What can I help you with?" Chap asked his new patron as he shook his hand. He noted the coolness of the newbe's hand and released the grip. Nick looked around the room. All four walls were lined with books and magazines. There were three tables in the center of the room, these with eight chairs each. There were several doors along the north and east walls of the room. Nick assumed they led to rooms that held materials the inmates were not permitted to use. "Do you have any Shakespeare?" Chap smiled. Shakespeare. He hadn't been asked about Shakespeare in years. "Yeah, I think I got some of his stuff. Anything in particular?" He thought of Nat. "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Dinner had been completely inedible to him. Two meals in one day should be enough for his first day of incarceration. He was tired. He had been up for 38 hours now. He would have no trouble sleeping tonight. He was allowed to bring the book he had gotten at the library back to his cell. He read as much as he could before the lights went out. Tomorrow would bring a new challenge. He had heard the rumors in the cell block. Tomorrow he would be initiated by the other inmates. They had it all planned. Tomorrow he would face the mill. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 12) by Carrie Krumtum Bloody mess. This particular scene was a bloody mess. Natalie crouched next to the body of a young man who had wrapped his truck around a utility pole. There was blood everywhere. She sighed. The coroner had been called in on this because of who this kid was. The son of a local legislator. Her report wouldn't do much to brighten his memory of his son. She could smell the alcohol in him. The toxicology would come back with an astronomical ETOH level, and, probably drugs as well. Standing, she looked over at Tracy Vetter. Tracy was talking to her partner. Ed Rhoades. NOT Nick. Nat felt a sudden ache at that. Reese had assigned a temporary partner for Tracy just like he had done for Nick when Schanke had headed for Alberta. Damn. She shook herself mentally. Temporary means just that. It does not always follow that temporary will become permanent just because Tracy did. Damn. She sighed again. "I thought you said you would keep me informed." Joe Reese was trying, very hard, not to shout over the phone. Fred Richardson sighed, "I will. We haven't made contact with him yet because that would look suspicious. It is rare for an inmate to be visited on his first day of incarceration by his attorney. We'll be going in tomorrow. After we contact him I'll let you know something. He's fine Captain Reese, I assure you." "Well, he better be." Reese didn't like this at all. He was beginning to like it less and less. Didn't Richardson say they would have daily contact with Nick? Or was that near daily? Oh, hell. He just wanted to know if his detective was all right. "Get back to me when you know something. Please?" "I will Captain." Richardson said. He understood how Reese felt. But, Knight knew the risks when he signed on. "Just let us do our job. We'll get Knight back to you as soon as we can." Yeah, as soon as you're done using him. "Okay." He hung up. Damn. He had kind of hoped he would feel better about this whole thing tonight. He shook his head. He didn't. As soon as they were done they headed back to the precinct. Tracy drove with her new partner in her passenger seat. Ed was a nice enough guy, but, he wasn't Nick. Nick would have teased her about the face she made at the sight of all that blood at the scene. Nick would have decided to go and talk to the parents right away, not wait and get clearance from Reese like Ed was wanting to do. City official or not, Nick would have gone at this full tilt. Ed was more reserved, more cautious. He didn't want to step on anyone's toes. Ed wanted to be captain someday. Nick didn't seem to care in the least whether or not he was ever promoted. Nick just wanted to be a cop. Tracy sighed. She had worked less than a full shift with her temporary partner, and already she couldn't wait for Nick to get back. That kind of surprised her. She had talked about that with Vachon early that morning. Nick teased her, a lot. He was a strange mix of male chauvinism and modern man. Sometimes Nick seemed to be fully aware of the struggle a female cop faced each and every day on the job. Sometimes he seemed to be living in the Dark Ages when it came to women. Vachon had laughed at that observation. Still, Nick was a hard guy to figure out. He was complicated. Kind of like Vachon. Well, not exactly like Vachon, but, complicated none the less. Tracy figured that that was what Natalie saw in him. That, and the fact that Nick was a good looking guy. She smiled. He really was. She wouldn't be caught dead telling him that though. He entered the loft. It was perfectly still. Of course, Nicholas would be hard at 'work' now. Slaving away for his mortal inferiors. Being a 'good cop'. Damn the rebellious boy. There was something going on with him. He had felt it all day. Something different. The feelings of isolation he felt. He sighed. Whatever it was, Nicholas would be telling him about it, soon. He took to the air... A five spot. That's all it would cost to get in on it. Hully smiled. He didn't like this one. He was too quiet. Too cocky. Nothing seemed to disturb him. Well, Hully would disturb him all right. Right in the ass. Hully liked the ass. Pitchin' this guy was going to be a real pleasure. It was well worth the five spot. Well worth it. Jojo had told him he would make maybe a whole carton on the newbe. Rank would settle for breakin' even. He had tried to talk with Tiny after dinner since Tiny was the only one to jaw him. Damn mountain didn't have nothing to say about the newbe. Just some bull about him being different. He didn't look all that different to Rank. He was a pale white bastard who probably wouldn't make it through the mill. And Griff had wasted no time setting it up neither. He had given him two weeks. Hell, he might not even make it past tomorrow. Rank sighed, he would definitely be happy if he just broke even. He finished typing the report into the computer and saved the file. The only time he had access to the inmate records was late at night. The warden had given him his own access code. The investigators from the Solicitor General's office would be there in the morning. Hardesty had wanted him to make sure all the files were in order. The doctored medical report and the fictional classification report were placed in Billy Talvert's records. When it was printed out tomorrow all the required documentation would be present. Conley smiled. He would have to ask the warden for a bonus on the merits of this night's work. Nodding, he shut down the work station and locked the door. He had been planning that fishing trip. Maybe he would soon be able to afford the new boat he had been wanting. Sleep came fitfully to him. He dreamed. Dreamed of sunshine on her hair. Dreams filled with her laughter. Then his dreams took on the darkness. Nightmares of shadowy threats. He tossed in his bunk. He hungered as well. All those heart beats, all that blood. It called to him... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 13) by Carrie Krumtum It didn't surprise him too much that Tiny rejoined him at breakfast. The fact that Chap joined him did. The other two men sat across from him and hungrily ate their meals while talking about their convictions, prison stay histories and families. It was incredible how much information they shared. As if, just having an unbiased ear unstopped the dam that had held back their stories. Not that he wasn't enjoying their life stories. He was. Tiny's story was pretty much like he had guessed it would be. A young man left on his own. His size allowing authority figures to mistake him for a man. He had run wild, fought hard, and had fought the wrong fights sometimes. He wasn't a violent man a heart. Nick guessed that being a large man meant that there was always someone out there who wanted to prove he was bigger, tougher. Chap's story was more poignant in a way. He had been born into real poverty. Learning the value of theft to keep food on the table. Anger and frustration at social barriers led to bigger and bigger crimes until, one day, he killed a store clerk during a robbery. Now he would spend the rest of his life behind bars. Chap was the first person to admit that his life was the result of his own choices, not societies. Nick had seen too much history not to know that there was social relevance in the decisions Chap had made. As he surveyed the food that remained on his tray, most of the meal still remaining, he thought about how similar his life was. He had also made choices that he was ill equipped to deal with. He would be destined to live with the results of his decision. Only, their fate was much better than his. They would live out their lives in mere physical confinement. Finite confinement. His was a confinement to a darkness of the soul that would last an eternity. That is, if he was not able to make it back across. He had spent the better part of the last few hundred years believing it was possible to escape the prison of his own creation. The difference that he saw between himself and these men was one of courage. Both of them had come to accept the results of their youthful folly. He had not. They accepted their confinement with a grace that eluded him. They had an inner courage. A courage of the heart that allowed them to look honestly at themselves and accept where they were and what they faced. He hadn't been able to do that. He doubted that he had that courage within him. In eight hundred years he had never been able to do what these two men had done in less than forty. He had never been able to accept his fate. It was desperation that drove him to find a way out. How much easier would it have been for him to simply walk into the sun? Or to revamp himself and give up the mortal struggle? Not easier, harder. To continue as he did was by far the easier way for him. It meant not having to judge the merits of his decision. Not having to accept his punishment. It was a kind of denial. He had spent centuries in denial. These men had moved beyond that. Nick could learn a lot from them. He hoped he would. It was right there in front of him. The clue that might be a key to where the warden's responsibility in the death of Billy Talvert lie. It was a protocol for the Inmate Sexual Assault Prevention/Intervention Program. He guessed that it was included in the Prison Health policy manual because of the intervention standards. He read the entire protocol carefully as he typed. If what he was reading was true, there had to be documentation of the prisons compliance with the protocol in Billy Talvert's file. Talvert should have been classified on arrival as 'at risk' for sexual assault. Nick had read his file and knew he met several of the guidelines that were listed in the protocol. The protocol called for screening for classification within 24 hours of arrival. Since Nick had yet to be screened, it was a good bet that Talvert hadn't been. And if the documentation had been altered, or faked, there would be a paper trail that he might be able to follow. He kept typing. Griff had been able to collect from 37 cell block residents. That meant he had a nice bundle to use for his own special preview. He would have to bribe Conley into letting McCabe take care of the newbe this afternoon instead of Fitzgerald. Then, he would have to give McCabe his cut. It was worth the money and effort. He just had to be the first to ride the punk. Then he could go through the mill. Griff smiled. The blond wonderbread boy would be his, very, very soon. Chap had never really spent time with Tiny. Tiny didn't come to the library. Chap spent most of his time in the yard with other black inmates or reading a book. Tiny mostly spent his time with a few other white inmates. Now they sat together looking out on the baseball diamond as they talked. The first conversation the two men had had since their joint incarceration. Chap guessed that they had spent almost twelve years in there at the same time. It seemed funny that it took a total stranger to bring them to the point of a having a simple talk with one another. "You think we should warn him?" Tiny was asking. "Man, I don't know. Griff and his hounds have the power you know. Guards on the rolls and all. I'm too old to do the hole any more." "Yeah, but we should say something. It ain't going to stop it, but maybe he would not take it so hard if he knew it was comin'." Chap thought about that. Griff was the most powerful inmate in the cell block. He had risen to power by shanking Bulldog. Bulldog was how the 'hounds' got their name. But Bulldog hadn't figured on Griff's treachery. Griff had done sixty days in the hole for shanking Bulldog. And, when he got out, had taken his place. He was feared. And in the joint, fear goes a long way. Even if they warned Nick, they wouldn't be able to do anything to help him. But, maybe Tiny was right, they might be able to help Nick realize that the best thing to do was to try and survive the mill. Once he got through it, he would be left alone by most of the hounds. Time would be much easier to do if he would just get through it without fighting. "Yeah, maybe. I just don't want any trouble with Griff." Tiny nodded. Chap was black, but that didn't mean that Griff and the hounds would leave him alone. Tiny had broken a few jaws when he first arrived. He had been way to big for them to handle, so he was left pretty much alone. But Chap didn't have that advantage. For some reason, Tiny felt kind of concerned for Chap. He didn't know him at all, but Chap was on the level. Tiny could always tell if a guy was on the level. He decided that it would be safest if he was the one to warn Nick. "Okay, I'll tell him at lunch." Chap nodded. "I'll pray for him." That was something Chap knew he could do without getting in any kind of trouble at all. Fred Richardson noted Knight at the computer immediately on entering the administrative offices. He was greeted almost immediately by Warden Hardesty and was ushered into the warden's office. Knight hadn't made any indication at all that he had ever seen Richardson before. Richardson had to admit, Knight was good. "Shut it down and stand up, 578236." Conley ordered. He closed the file he was working on and shut down his work station. Standing up he turned to face the guard with a neutral expression. It wasn't time for his break yet. Something else was up. "You've got a visitor. Follow me." Nick followed Conley out of the office and into the corridor. Behind him, in the warden's office, he could hear Richardson questioning Hardesty. He wondered who he was being taken to see. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 14) by Carrie Krumtum The warden was more than happy to answer all of Fred Robertson's questions. It was a tragedy that Billy Talvert had been brutalized by the other inmates. Yes, the nurse had looked at him, but somehow had missed the rectal bleeding. Maybe Talvert had been too embarrassed to mention it? Yes, Talvert had been classified, no special precautions were needed in the opinion of the interviewer. Yes, the interviewer had gone through the required training. No, there was no way for the warden to have foreseen the assaults. Yes, they would have been prevented if the staff had only known about it in advance. Hardesty was smooth. Slippery. He was well practiced. Damn. Robertson would like nothing more than to get him out of there. He knew as well as he was sitting there that more young inmates would die or be injured if Hardesty remained warden of the institution. He just hoped Knight would be able to give him what he needed. The interview room was small, contained a table and two chairs and was entered through a barred door. Nick was ushered into the room by Conley and was met by a man he had never seen before. The man stood up and extended his hand to Nick as Conley left, locking the door behind him, leaving the two men alone. Nick took the proffered hand and stood across the table from his visitor. "Hello." The other man shook his hand briefly and then sat down, opening his briefcase. Nick sat down as well. His visitor introduced himself. "I'm Randy Polchevsky with the Solicitor General's office." "Pleased to meet you." "We are grateful for your assistance, Nick." Polchevsky removed a folder and a legal pad and placed them on the table between them. Closing his briefcase he set in on the floor and turned his attention to Nick. "Glad to be of service." Polchevsky regarded the detective. He looked pale and tired. "Are you all right? Have you been mistreated?" Nick smiled slightly, "Nothing I can't handle." Polchevsky looked at him for a few long seconds. He shrugged. Knight must know what he's doing. "I know they've assigned you to the administrative offices. Have you been able to find out anything yet?" Nick told his visitor about the protocol he had found, the fact that he had not been classified and the possibility of using his access code to get into the inmate records on the computer system. Conley watched as the two men inside the interview room talked. This was as talkative as he had seen the new guy. Well, if you can't tell your lawyer, who can you tell? He laughed and shook his head. Griff approached Conley from the hall. He was mopping the floors on this level. He continued to mop the floor while speaking to the guard. "I'd like for McCabe to take the newbe today." Griff reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He passed it to Conley. Taking the note, Conley looked back into the interview room. "You just can't wait can you Griff?" He laughed again. "McCabe, Conley." Griff said. Conley turned his attention back to the prisoner in front of him. "Okay." Griff began to move away, mopping as he went. Conley called after him, "Griff. You forgot a spot." He pointed towards the floor. He was laughing at Griff now. Griff swept the mop over the indicated spot and moved on. He hated Conley, but, Conley was useful. He put up with him only because he provided Griff with a valuable service. Someday his usefulness would wear off, and, when that day came, Griff would enjoy disposing of him. He was already doing life, he had nothing to lose. "I'll see you again in a few days." Polchevsky said as he began to put the items on the table back into his briefcase. "I have a question for you." Nick said. Polchevsky looked back at the detective. "Shoot." "Tell me about the mill." Nick noted the look of instant concern that spread across his visitors face. "You've heard about that, huh? Of course you have." He nodded slightly and finished closing his briefcase. "The mill is the initiation of a new punk to his role as a sexual subordinate in the prison population. You read the report on the sexual roles of prisoners, right?" He received a nod of affirmation from the detective. "Well, in this particular institution, the mill is particularly brutal. That's how we suspect Billy Talvert died. The assaults are repeated over the course of hours, sometimes even days." Nick thought again about what he had read in Billy Talvert's file. He had been easy prey for the hounds. Polchevsky was worried for the detective. "Nick. You should be very careful. We don't want you to undergo what happened to Billy Talvert. We were hoping to get you out of here before anything like that would be attempted with you." "They've already planned it for tonight." Nick informed him. He really was concerned now. "Then I'm pulling you out of here. We'll just have to get the evidence on the warden some other way." "No." Polchevsky couldn't believe what he thought he heard. "No? You want to stay in here? Are you aware of what they are planning to do to you? Nick, staying in here is crazy." Nick took a deep breath. He couldn't tell Polchevsky that he was in no real danger, that he could take care of himself. How was he going to explain it? He thought about Tiny and Chap. He thought about all the other victims of the mill, past and future. No man should have to go through that. No matter what they had done to go to prison. "I can handle myself. Look, the only way you are going to stop this sort of thing is to change the way this prison is run. To do that, you're going to have to get Hardesty out of here. And, to do that, you need me on the inside. Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself." Polchevsky just stared at him. Knight was either the bravest man he had ever met or the craziest. Right now it was a fifty/fifty bet as to which Knight was. He did have a point, though. They really did need him on the inside. He shook his head as he made his decision. "All right. We'll leave you in. But, if you are harmed in anyway, and I mean ANY way, you're out of here." "Fair enough." They both stood. Polchevsky shook Nick's hand again and then waved at the guard. "Watch yourself, Nick." Conley opened the door then. Nick turned to leave and noted the look of amusement on Conley's face. He was led back his work station, the whole time Conley regarded him with that same entertained grin. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com Pardon gentles all, I don't know if this is getting through, I'm trying to change mailers. If you have gotten multiple posts, forgive. I didn't receive a confirmation from the other mailer. So I am using the old standby AOL. Carrie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 15) by Carrie Krumtum Nick was having a hard time deciding what to eat off of his tray. He felt a little weak, but not too bad. He was getting enough nutrition from what he had managed to eat, but every meal was a real struggle. He had managed for most of the day to ignore the heart beats of those around him. He knew that he would have to start eating more if he was to keep the bloodlust in tight control. The goal for this meal was half. Trouble was deciding on which half. He took another bite of what Tiny called meatloaf and chewed. "I need to warn you about something." Tiny had lowered his voice in a conspiratory way. Nick looked up at him expectantly. "About what." Chap was studiously working over he lunch tray. Whatever Tiny had to say to him, Chap was aware and didn't want anyone else to know. "You're going through the mill tonight." Tiny informed him. "I think you should just be careful and relax. You'll get through it better if you don't fight it." Tiny looked at his new friend. He had expected to see fear on his face. Nick didn't even looked surprised. "Thanks." Tiny sat up. Chap looked over at Nick. Both of them just stared at the newbe. Damned if he isn't the coolest bastard I've ever met, Tiny thought. He looked at Chap and saw the same thought on his face. He shook his head and went back to his meal. He had warned him. That's all he could do. The rest was up to Nick. She was having a hard time sleeping. Ever since Nick had left, she couldn't help but think about him. Maybe what they say is true. Absence does make the heart grow fonder. She sighed. Her letter wouldn't even get to the prison for a few days, and then, who knew how long it would take the prison officials to read it and pass it on to him. This whole situation was just making her crazy. Damn you, Nick. Why do you always have to be the White Knight, riding in to save the day for everyone? Couldn't you, just once, let somebody else handle it? "Of course you can't." She said out loud. The sound of her own voice startled her. She had been concentrating so hard that her remark was subconscious. "Oh, girl. You've got to get a grip." Nat rose from her bed and went to get a cup of hot chocolate. So what if it was two o'clock in the afternoon. If he could go to prison without being convicted, she could have cocoa whenever she damn well felt like it. McCabe found the note and the money in his locker when he arrived for his shift. He smiled. He would enjoy watching the new guy gettin' pitched. When he had met the bus on the newbe's arrival, the bastard had refused to repeat his number. McCabe would have got him to do it if the warden hadn't stopped him. Hardesty had no balls. He was too damn worried about the investigation over Talvert's death. Well, 578236 wouldn't be killed. McCabe would see to that. He wouldn't be killed, but, he would learn his place. And Griff was just the guy to educate him. There was a new guard that afternoon when Conley was relieved. Nick finished his shift at the computer and shut down the work station. He wasn't able to try his access code that day. Too much activity in the office due to Robertson's investigation. He would try tomorrow. "Stand up." Nick recognized the new guard immediately. This was the one who had beat him on his arrival. He stood up. "Learn you're name yet, 578236?" McCabe asked him, venom for a voice. Nick didn't answer. He stood, looking past McCabe, with the same neutral expression. McCabe smiled. He was a smug bastard. We'll see how smug he was after Griff was through with him. "Move. The library." Nick headed out down the hall. This guard hadn't given him the choice of where to spend his hour of rec time. That was all right. Nick had no desire to go to the chapel. Griff entered the library and closed the door. Chap was putting up the books from off of the cart he used to deliver to the cell blocks. "Out." Chap looked up at his guest. Griff was an infrequent visitor to the library. Chap had been expecting Nick. The situation dawned on him. Damn. Griff was going to try and pitch Nick before the mill. "I've got to finish this." Chap tried to sound calmer than he felt. He feared Griffin. "I said out old man." Griff didn't want to have to hit the old guy. He wasn't worth going to the hole over. Chap decided the best thing to do was to comply. He didn't have a death wish. Nick was going to have a rough time with this guy. He decided to go to the chapel. He would pray for Nick some more. The door to the library was closed when he reached it. He waited for McCabe to open it and he entered. Instead of finding Chap there he was met by another black man. This one was younger, perhaps thirty. He was a weight lifter as well. It took him a minute to place him. A look of recognition washed across his face. This was Griffin, the leader of the hounds. Nick looked back at McCabe. The guard was leaning up against the now reclosed door with a sinister smile on his face. He had been bribed to bring him here. Nick turned back to Griffin. "I paid a lot of money for you, punk. I think it's time you and me got a few things straight." Griff advanced slowly toward his new sweet boy. He unbuttoned his pants as he moved toward him. "Your ass is mine, sweet boy. So why don't you just turn around and drop 'em." Nick stood his ground. He was a little weak, but he was sure he could handle Griffin. He wasn't sure what McCabe would do. His guessed that he wouldn't interfere. This was a power struggle between inmates. He was just the delivery boy. Griff noted the look of defiance on the newbe's face. It made him angry. He was going to have to teach this one a few lessons. He hit him in the face. Nick took the hit to his jaw by turning his head. He remained where he was standing. The guard behind him laughed. "You'll have to do better than that Griff." McCabe chided the inmate. Griff was really angry now. This bastard was trying to embarrass him. He launched himself at the newbe. They both hit the floor, Nick rolled and threw Griffin over him and was on his feet in one fluid motion. Griff came to rest up against the legs of the nearest table. He rose and came at him again. Sidestepping at the last minute, Nick caught his attacker by the shirt and threw him into the bookshelves that lined the south wall. McCabe realized that Griff was in over his head with this guy. The newbe was much stronger than he looked and he was a good fighter. If he ever wanted money from Griff again he was going to have to help him. He pulled his club from his belt and hit the newbe in the back. Nick dropped to his knees at the blow to his back. He turned just in time to see the club come down at his head. He was only able to duck away enough for the blow to catch his left shoulder instead of his temple. He fell back into McCabe's legs and knocked him down. The guard fell back against the table and sent the table and chairs sliding across the floor and into the other furniture in the room. Griff was now back on his feet and headed towards him. Nick was able to get back to his knees before Griff reached him and took hold of the arm Griff threw at him. Pulling hard, Nick threw Griff over him and against the North wall. McCabe was a little dizzy from hitting his head. He hit the alarm button on the beeper at his belt and stood up. He crouched and circled the newbe until his back was to the door that exited the library. Nick rose and waited for the next attack when he heard the sounds of running feet from the other side of the library door. The door burst open and four more guards entered the room. "He attacked me and this prisoner." McCabe said as he pointed his club at Nick. "Take him to the hole." Two of the guards that had entered the room flanked Nick and took him by the arms, wrenching his arms behind him and nearly lifting him off of his feet. McCabe stood in front of him and hit him in the stomach with his club. Nick double over in the grasp of the guards holding him. "Let's see how you feel after a week in the hole." McCabe spat. At that, the guards drug him away. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 16) by Carrie Krumtum The door slammed shut behind him just as he hit the far wall of the cell. It was completely black in the cell, no light at all. He didn't need the light to see, but in complete blackness even vampires had trouble with acuity. Not that there was anything in the cell to see. It was a five foot by five foot cement cell. No fixtures of any kind. A drain in a corner and a hinged access hole in the door. That was it. So, this is solitary confinement, he thought. He righted himself and sat with his back against the wall he landed on. He tested the mobility of his left shoulder. It hurt slightly, but the joint was okay. He took a deep breath. Great, just great. How are you going to investigate from in here? He really didn't want to be in prison any longer than he had to be. The longer he was away from the administrative offices, the longer he would have to wait to access the computer system. One week. A whole week in here. Sighing, he rested his head back against the wall. The longer this investigation took, the longer he would be away from her. That was the issue, really. Nat. He sighed, again. Tiny was in the infirmary getting his evening medication when they brought in Griff. He was unconscious. The nurse on duty checked his pupils, pulse and blood pressure. McCabe told the nurse that Nick had practically thrown Griff across the room. Twice. Tiny had to smile. He was right about Nick. He had been a big surprise. He WAS different. "He is just fine Captain Reese. Polchevsky saw him today. He said that Knight was just fine. He had even found something that might be significant to the investigation. Don't worry. Everything is going as planned." Fred Robertson spoke into the phone. This time he had called Reese. It was a preemptory strike. He wanted to be left alone this evening. So, he decided to call the captain before the captain called him. "That's good news I guess." Reese knew he should feel better. He didn't. Nick was okay. But, he still felt that this whole situation was...wrong. He shook himself. "Thanks for letting me know." "No problem Captain Reese. When we contact him again, I'll give you another call." "I'd appreciate it." "Good night." "Good night." Reese hung up. Well, he would update Tracy when she came in to start her shift. He also thought he should probably call Natalie. He dialed her number. Griffin had been in the infirmary for over an hour before he came to. The nurse put him on bed rest and restricted him to the infirmary for the night. He would have to have repeated neuro checks throughout the night to insure that he did not have a concussion. When asked what had happened to him all Griffin would say was that the new guy was a dead man. This being the typical response from an inmate who had lost a fight, the nurse noted that Griffin was alert and oriented in his record and went to check on the other inmates in his care. She could feel the tension slowly release as he massaged her shoulders. His hands were gentle. She preferred it that way. The thought made her blush slightly. Slow and gentle. The images that popped into her head were not exactly restrained to a shoulder massage. Vachon noted the slight quickening of her heart rate. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" Her blush deepened. "No!" She replied, just a bit too quickly. "I'm fine. Just fine. Um, that feels good." She bit her lower lip. He shrugged and continued to work on her knotted muscles. Women, he would never grow tired of trying to figure them out. This particular one, anyway. Tracy fascinated him like no woman had in a long time. "Have you heard anything from your partner?" The question about Nick almost made her forget her embarrassment. "No, not yet. I'm hoping the captain will have heard something. I'll find out when I go in tonight." She really was hoping that there was some news. She knew it had only been two days. Still, it was two days. And she was facing another shift without him. "I'm glad to hear that Captain. Thank you for calling. Good night." Natalie hung up. She had said that she was glad without real conviction. The information was so sketchy. The attorney from the SO's office had seen Nick and he looked fine. Well that was just dandy. That didn't come anywhere near to reassuring her. There was so much that could go wrong for Nick in there. Was he eating? Was the food meeting his metabolic needs? Was he being protected from the sun? Was he able to get adequate rest? Did he miss her? She felt like shouting. Standing at her desk in the morgue where she had answered the phone she decided not to. Not that her customers would be bothered. It was just that the acoustics in the building would probably carry the sound to someone else in the building. She really didn't feel like explaining why she had shouted. So, she didn't. She went back to work instead. The dinner they had delivered to him consisted of a piece of bread and a stewlike mixture in a cup. No eating utensils were provided. The fact that he still felt slight pain in his shoulder told him two things, he was weak and in need of nourishment, and that he was perhaps a little closer to his goal of reattaining his lost mortality. He ate all of the food that was given to him. The smell and taste still nauseated him somewhat. But, it was better than starving. He wondered what Nat would think about his eating. She would probably be thrilled. And the pain, that would have been welcome news to her as well. He smiled at that. Nat was the eternal optimist. She truly believed that they would be successful. Even when he had been willing to give up. Even when he had disappointed her. Sitting in the darkness, he began to think about all the times he had disappointed her lately. Too many times... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 17) by Carrie Krumtum Damnit. Hardesty slammed down the phone. McCabe was an idiot. Sure, McCabe thought no one knew he was on Griffin's rolls. No one but Conley. Conley had proven very helpful to Hardesty. He was ruthless. That's what was needed to run a prison. Ruthlessness. McCabe was just stupid. Still, it was easier for Hardesty to understand the Vickering's and McCabe's than it was for him to understand the Robertson's. Pantiwasted assholes. They worked in their plush offices at the SG's office, far away from the daily hell of the prisons their thought they ran. It was men like them that made it necessary for men like him to work that much harder. If those bastards at the SG's office had their way, every convict in the system would be given candy and read a bedtime story every night while in the joint. Hardesty, and other wardens like him, the one's who knew what this whole damn war was about, they were the one's who really understood what it takes to reform these men. You had to break their spirits and rebuild them with discipline. Rules of conduct so ingrained, that they would never pose a threat to society again. Of course, there were men who were used as tools in the war. Other prisoners like Griffin. Lifers, men who would never breath another minute of free air. They could be used, if used properly, to break other prisoners. And it was always necessary to break them. There was no rehabilitation without breaking them. If the last twenty years had taught him anything, it was that. Now, he had Knight in the hole. Griffin had been a little overanxious and that fool McCabe hadn't used very good judgement. He thought about the situation. There had to be a way to turn this to an advantage. He nodded. Perhaps there was. The darkness suited his mood. It was full daylight now. The sun had risen. His internal senses kept pace with the rising and setting of the sun. Even in the hole, he could tell day from night. He guessed that other inmates lost tract of it easily. The cell was too small for him to stretch completely out in to sleep, so, he was forced to lay curled on his side. He always slept flat on his back. Hard to break centuries old habits. He slept little. He ate what they brought him. Always the same thing. A piece of bread and a cup of stew. Three meals a day. It was the third day of his stint in solitary. Today was Sunday. Nat would be off tonight. If he had been home, they would have spent some time together. Maybe watch a video or go see a movie. He envisioned her crying at the end of the play they saw the last time they had gone out. It seemed like a long time ago. It had only been a week. She always cryed at the sad endings. That was how their whole relationship would end up. A sad ending. He had thought about his feelings for her. His need for her. He had tried to postulate how this whole situation with them would end. All the various ways it could end. Each of them sad. She would be nothing but hurt no matter what happened. The only escape from that fate was for him to regain his mortality, in her lifetime. When he had started his quest to be human again he hadn't even considered the effects on mortals. He had worried about the response from the community, LaCroix, Janette, the Enforcers. It had never occurred to him that there would be mortal ramifications. He had never foreseen meeting anyone remotely like her. How could he have. For centuries mortals had been nothing more than a means to an end. An end to his hunger. He had never been able to overcome his guilt at that. From the very beginning LaCroix had warned him about the guilt. He had never learned the lesson. Even guilt ridden he had fed. Killing and killing again. Of all the men imprisoned in this institution, none of them deserved to be there as much as he did. He was the truly guilty. Even men like Griffen. At least they had opportunities for redemption. And what of Nat? How he had victimized her. Riping away her innocense. Taking away her ignorance of the creatures of the darkness. Exposing her to the dangers of the night. LaCroix's retribution, the Enforcers, others of their kind who might find her knowledge of them uncomfortable. His need for her. Selfishly, he clung to her. Jealously hoping she would give up any chance of a normal, mortal life to meet his needs. To help him in his quest. Regardless of the cost to her. And she had begun to love him. He had taken that as well. Allowed her to love him. To waste her love on his evil. No, there was no one in this prison who deserved to be there more than he did. He had a way of victimizing everyone he touched. He was the true criminal. Griff sat in his cell in solitary. He had been sent to the hole after being released from the infirmary. His hate swelled with each passing hour. The punk would pay. He would die. But not before Griff got his revenge. He would be made to catch every dick in the joint before Griff was through. Then, he would die. Polchevsky hadn't been able to get back to the prison to see Knight since Thursday. His wife had been sick and he stayed home with the kids. When he called to check on his client Saturday, the guard he had spoke with had told him that Knight was 'just fine'. He wished he could be sure of that. Ed had proven to be even worse with the paperwork than Nick was. Tracy finished the last of the shift reports and sent the file to the printer. She preferred to use the computer rather than the typewriter. Nick always used the typewriter to do his reports. There had been a period where he had stopped doing them. But, lately, he had been much better. She had read through some of the old reports he and his last partner had done. They were meticulous. She knew he had been having a tough time since Schanke was killed. Nick had even told her he wasn't happy that they were made partners. At first. Then their relationship seemed to grow. He had learned to trust her. She had learned to trust him. And she had had to really trust him the past few months. Still, he seemed to always try and do the right thing. It was like Natalie had said. Once you got to know Nick, you understood that much, even if you didn't understand what he was doing at the time. Tracy guessed it was that understanding that kept her from going completely crazy. Whatever Nick was doing, he was trying to do the right thing. She just wished, for the umpteenth time, that she could help him somehow. The captain insisted that he was all right. But even Reese was worried about Nick. He wasn't able to keep his concern concealed from her. Sighing, she went to pick up the report she printed out and drop it in the captain's office before going home. At least she had seen more of Vachon lately. She wasn't sure why, but it seemed that Vachon had been...well, protective. She wasn't complaining or anything. It just seemed like a weird coincidence that Nick should be gone and Vachon should suddenly decide to spend more time together. Hurray for coincidence. She finished writing the letter and addressed the envelope. This was the sixth letter she had written. So far she hadn't received a response from him. Maybe they weren't allowing him to write. Maybe he had written but the prison officials had intercepted the letter. Robertson had explained that their mail would be censored. Maybe he hadn't even read any of the letters. Maybe he just didn't want to write to her. Maybe you should take some Valium and chill, she thought. All the speculation was driving her crazy. He was out of her reach. Period. And it hurt. She knew it would when he took the assignment. He would be gone for several weeks. That could mean two or four or more. Damn. If less than a week was this hard on her, what would the rest of her lifetime be like? The memories she had of how she felt when Nick had decided to leave after Schank and Cohen died flooded her. It had nearly tore her heart apart. She hadn't planned on falling in love with him. It had just happened. Somehow, that night, she had been touched at the core of her being by him. All the revelations about who and what he was, he had been, was trying to become, didn't change the way she felt. She had tried, unsuccessfully, to lie to herself, to deny her feelings. Or to ignore them. Nothing worked. She sighed. Nick was in prison. He was away from her. And it hurt. It hurt like hell. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 18) by Carrie Krumtum As dusk deepened into night, Nat stared out at the darkness as the city lit up. The view from her apartment window was a pretty one. Nick had always liked it. She sighed. Everything she had touched or thought today had r eminded her of him. She turned from the window to go get herself a cup of tea when she noted she was not alone. He startled her. "Good evening, doctor." LaCroix greeted her. He was seated on her couch. She had no idea how long he had been there. After swallowing her heart back down into her chest cavity, she responded to him. "Why are you here?" He smiled. "Your manners have not improved, I see." She was instantly angry. "You were not invited. If anyone needs to learn manners LaCroix, it is you." "Quite so." He inclined his head to her. "Point taken." She remained where she stood. Still angry, she couldn't help but feel a little bit frightened. LaCroix was capable of killing her. "I repeat, why are you here?" Crossing his legs as if to settle in for a long, friendly chat, he replied, "I was wondering if you could tell me where Nicholas is." His voice was cordial, but contained a thinly veiled threatening tone. It was her turn to smile. So, Nick left without telling him. "What makes you think I know?" "Oh, come doctor. Let us not play at games. Nicholas has not left his life. He has merely left his home, temporarily. I am quite sure he would not have done so without telling you where he was going." His tone was almost mocking. "Why should you care where he is? You said yourself, he has not left his life here behind. You do not need to chase after him." His face darkened, ever so slightly, she had hit close to the mark. "I do not CHASE him. He...needs me. I have felt things from him lately that concern me. Perhaps you are unconcerned for him. Perhaps you do not care for him as much as he thinks you do." The revelation that LaCroix had felt something through his bond with Nick frightened her. It would have to be something unusual to bring LaCroix to her. Why didn't he know where Nick was? Maybe the bond they shared had c hanged somehow. Been weakened. Maybe the possession had affected it. "Of course I'm concerned for him. Whether I am or not, it is none of your business, one way or the other." "Ah, but that is where you are mistaken, doctor. Nicholas IS my business. Anything that concerns him is of concern to me." He appeared to be absent mindedly tracing the pattern of the afghan that was thrown over the back of her couch. "I know you believe that." She was getting angrier. LaCroix's possessiveness of Nick had brought Nick nothing but pain and torment. "As you should." He regarded her with thinly veiled contempt. "Now, if you would be so good, doctor, and tell me, where is Nicholas?" She wondered why he didn't just openly threaten her. No, she thought, shaking her head, that would be in poor taste. He liked to play the games, no matter what he said. "Or what, you'll kill me? So, I'm just supposed to tell you anything you want to know? I may be a mere mortal, but I will not crumple at your penitrating glance. If Nick had wanted you to know, he would have told you himself. It is not my place to second guess him." LaCroix stood. He had underestimated the good doctor. She was an annoying one. He was sorely tempted to drain her where she stood. But that would serve no useful purpose presently, other than to make him feel better. "Yo u have not been listening, doctor." He dropped all pretense from his voice. He was annoyed. "There is...something wrong with him. I am merely attempting to help Nicholas." She felt her concern rise again. As much as she would like to believe that this was a trick, there was too much potential for danger with Nick's assignment for her not to take LaCroix seriously. "What do you sense from h im?" He thought about her question for a moment. He had been to Nicholas' loft almost daily. There had been no sign of him there for a week now. He felt Nicholas' guilt. But then, Nicholas always felt guilty. What concerned h im was the tone of what he felt. The isolation. The longing. Maybe even a hint of despair. And, there was the absence of fear. "All I can tell you is that what he is feeling is dangerous. Since I don't know WHY his feelin gs have changed, I cannot tell just HOW dangerous. That is why I wish to know where he is. I would like to ask him." "And you can't find him through your connection, or, whatever it is that you call this...bond of yours?" Natalie was genuinely curious about that. LaCroix wasn't certain he wished to answer her question. The fact that Nicholas could summon him through their link, or visaversa, was one thing. It was quite another for Nicholas to evade him when he wished. The link wa s not that simple. "It is much more complex than that. I am not sure you could understand. I COULD find Nicholas, under certain circumstances." Intuitively she understood. "If Nick wanted you to find him." She was rewarded by a brief look of surprise on LaCroix's face. "Yes." "Then, until such a time as Nick wants you to find him, I'm afraid I can't help you." He looked at her with open disappointment and annoyance. "I'm sorry to hear that, doctor. If, anything should happen to Nicholas, I will hold you partly responsible." "I don't care what you will or won't think." She felt her anger return. "Nick is the principle concern here. Not you." She tried not to allow her anger to fill her voice. Still, she was having a hard time resisting the urge to slap him. He stared at her for a moment. Dr. Lambert had a formidable will. She was, after all, a resistor. Even he required the assistance of a hypnotic drup in order to bend her to his will. She was not going to tell him what he wanted to know. "In that case, doctor. I will take your leave." He had spoken to her, and then he was gone. She heard and felt the faint swooshing of his passing. A reminder of how unprotected she was. How vulnerable to his whim. She hugged herself against a sudden chill. Nick, I hope you're all right, she thought. Please be all right. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 19) by Carrie Krumtum Rank was pleased. Griff was in the hole. The newbe had been in the joint for a week. He has half way home. If the rumors were true, and they general were, Griff would have to do at least another week in the hole. The hou nds would mind themselves until he got out. That would mean Rank could collect. He might just make something off this whole situation. He laughed. Jojo was not happy though. Still, if he knew Jojo, he had hedged his bets. Jojo would make out all right. "I still think we should make sure he does it all. Yeah, McCabe made a mistake, but, we need to make sure this guy understands who's in charge. He's cocky. Too cocky." Conley was trying to convince t