From: Trystan830@aol.com Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1999 23:56:25 EDT Subject: FK Fanfic submission..."Spoiler"..."Knightfall" To: FKarchiver@fkfanfic.com Fan Fiction submission....can also ve viewed at Forever Knight Fan Fiction __Knightfall__ He was tired. He was tired of hunting, of moving from place to place. Finally, he'd settled on living in one of those large American cities. It didn't matter where, they were all the same to him. He now sat at his grand piano, the one piece of furniture he'd wanted from his loft in Toronto. Everything else didn't matter. He'd lost all that mattered to him the night he promised his love to Natalie, and that they'd be together forever. He was no better than any other of his kind. Nicholas Knight, now Nicholas Girard again, worked at the Department of Archeology at the local university. Nat would have wanted that. It had been so long ago since that fateful last night. *** **"Damn you, Nicholas," Lacroix said as he raised the staff that Nick had placed in his hands. Nick kneeled down on the floor beside the still Natalie, and kissed her lifeless hand, waiting for Lacroix, his maker, to ram the staff through him so that Nick would be with Nat as promised. But it never came. "I cannot do this thing you ask, Nicholas." Nick didn't move from Nat's side as he heard Lacroix leave the loft through the skylight. "Nat," he told her lifeless form. "I'm so sorry. I must move on now. There are too many loose ends. There will be questions. It's better if I am not here in the morning." Rising from the floor, he'd gone to the refrigerator, and opened a bottle of blood. It was cow's blood; he'd stopped feeding on humans at the beginning of the 20th century. He started searching for a cure for his curse. He wanted to be mortal again. Then, in Toronto, he'd met Natalie Lambert, the only mortal to know what he was. Together, they tried to find a cure for his vampirism, but nothing seemed to work. Damn it, but he promised they'd be together. ** *** He rubbed his eyes and stared at the piano keys. He must be tired, the keys appeared to be moving. He got up from the bench and went over to the well-stocked refrigerator. There were many bottles of blood; he was still drinking cows blood, and he was still trying to find a cure for what he still called his curse. The ringing phone caught him off guard. The machine picked up. "Nick Girard here. You know what to do....beeeeeep." A woman's voice came on the tape. "Hi, Nicholas? This is Detective Paulson from the station. We'd like you to come down tomorrow night for your interview you scheduled with us. I know you work at the University, but we can accommodate both of your schedules, if it's not a problem for you. See you tomorrow night then." Nick listened to the tape a few more times, just to make sure he heard the Detective correctly. Nick taught a class one night a week, and had given out his home number to his students. It wouldn't be a problem. Since Toronto, he couldn't shake the feelings he got, of doing his duty to repay humanity, of being a detective. Nick had thought about becoming a private investigator, but that would mean he'd have to be available 24 hours each day, and being a vampire, that wasn't all that practical. *** The police station was large, but that was what was expected in a large city. Nick interviewed with Detective Victoria Paulson, and then with Captain Jordan Richmond. Before Nick left the police station, he was Detective Girard. Captain Richmond explained that this was not normal procedure, but Nick seemed honest, sincere, and had a copy of his results from the academy, as well as his personnel file from Toronto (with the loose ends conveniently missing), Nick got the position, and was partnered with Vicky Paulson. Afterwards, all the captain remembered was Nick coming for the interview, and then giving Nick his detective badge. Vicky showed Nick his desk, and then she went to the desk opposite him that had a stack of folders on it, and brought some of them over to Nick. "These are some current cases, and some unsolveds. The current folders are only a few days old, a week at the most. The unsolveds go back about a year or two. Take a read through them, and we'll get you up to speed with the current cases." Vicky studied his blond hair, brown eyes, his boyish face, and then suggested, "Why don't you go home and get some rest? You look like you've been up for the past week." "It feels like it,"he said, and then turned to his petite red-haired partner. "I think I will. Thanks." He got into his caddie, with newly registered plates, and drove back to his place. It was still a warehouse style building, with the remote controlled blinds, similar to the ones he had in Toronto. He couldn't help thinking about Toronto, and Nat, but he had to stop. He had contained his will power not to feed on humans and revert to his old ways as a tribute to Nat and her search for a cure. *But why should he*, he thought. *Nat is gone, and I will never be human. Why shouldn't I give in to what I am?* He slept like the dead that night. *** Several days later, Nick was caught up on the current cases, and Vicky offered to take him on a tour of the rather large station. In the basement, the coolest part of the building, near the back of the station, was the Medical Examiner's office and lab. Nick stopped for a moment, gathering his thoughts. An image of Nat flashed in front of his eyes, and he blinked away the image. "Are you OK, Nick? We can wait until later." "No, I'm fine. We can go in." The ME was at work over a body, talking into her tape recorder. Nick noted that she was about the same height of his new partner, which was about 5 feet, just about a foot shorter than he was. She had short, black wavy hair, and when she looked up at him, her eyes were the bluest he'd ever seen. Thank goodness she didn't look like Nat. The woman took off her latex gloves and extended her hand to Nick. "Hi. I'm Cara Lambert. You must be Nick." Lambert? Nick's face must have paled to white, because Cara was reaching out to him saying, "You look like you've seen a ghost. Sit down a minute."She tried to direct him to her desk chair. He pulled back. There was something about her touch that he didn't like, and he didn't know why he didn't like it either. "No." It was nearly a whisper. He turned to his partner. "I will be at my desk if you need me." And he was gone. "What's with your new partner?" Cara asked Vicky. "I wish I knew. He's been acting creepy since Richmond hired him at the beginning of the week. Do you think he knows about you?" "You're not supposed to talk about that Vicky. You're the only one who knows, and whatever you do, do *not* tell *him*." "Yes ma'am," Vicky saluted. "I guess I'll go see what exactly Nick is doing at his desk. Although I don't think he can get into trouble. The Captain can see all the desks from his office." Vicky left the lab, and went back to her desk, which faced her partner's. Her previous partner, Richard Baker, had left the precinct because of the rumors that he'd gotten involved with his partner. These were only rumors, and Vicky hadn't wanted anything to do with Richard. They were work partners, not something more. Nick was staring at a photograph of a woman with long brown wavy hair. The woman was pretty, Vicky thought when she peeked at it. Not wanting to surprise Nick when she suddenly appeared at her desk, she shuffled her feet on the floor to make a bit of noise. Nick did not move. Vicky sat down at her desk. She moved some folders around, making more noise. She cleared her throat. She spoke. "Nick? You in there?" Finally, he looked up, his eyes far away. She thought they had a gold glow to them. It could have been a trick of the light, too. He blinked away the memories of Nat, and put the picture in the top center drawer. "Yeah, I'm here." He turned back to the folders that were still on his desk. The unsolved cases. Would Natalie ever turn up as an unsolved? Not here, he thought. *Why can't I get her out of my mind? Have I really become human in my thoughts and emotions?* He opened the drawer and took another look at the picture. *Why can't I get you out of my mind? Is this what humans call an obsession?* All the thoughts and images of everyone he'd left behind came rushing back: Natalie, the first time she'd seen him, the plane explosion with Schanke and Captain Cohen, Janette, Screed, Vachon, Tracy's death, Natalie... Nick jumped up from his chair, nearly knocking it over. A few of the officers nearby looked at him. Nick was momentarily confused, and then realized what had happened. "Sorry," he mumbled, and sat back down. Captain Richmond came over to him. "Girard, I think you ought to go home, get some rest. This new job stress is taking it's toll. And besides, you have your class tomorrow, right?" "You're right, Cap." Nick stood up again, this time a bit more carefully. The phone on his desk rang. "Vicky, you can get that for Nick. He's off duty for two nights." "Paulson," Vicky said into Nick's phone. "Oh, hi Cara. No, Nick's been ordered to go home. He looks like a ghost. Or so Captain Richmond says." She listened for a moment. "Sure, I'll tell him. Later." And she replaced the phone. "Tell me what?" "Not much, just that she liked meeting you and you ran out before she could say something." Nick nodded, and then, following the Captain's suggestion, he went home. *** "... Girard here. You know what to do....beeeeeep......Hi Nick, it's Cara, the ME, remember? I know we only just met, but I was thinking we could get together sometime? Call me back at 555-6574." Nick heard the message in his sleepy state, and looked at the clock next to the couch, where he had fallen asleep that morning. Groggily, he found his way to the kitchen and the refrigerator, where he uncorked another bottle, and downed it all. The clock said he still had about 30 minutes until his class, scheduled for 7:45. Hopefully, come summer, he would teach a later class. Daylight saving time pushed sunset back a bit, and Nick would rather teach the class than be the subject of an archeological find. The university was large, and the room he taught in was on the first floor of a building that was partially underground. His office was just upstairs from the class room. Tonight, the second night of classes, the students were turning in assignments on an culture they found fascinating, and wanted to learn more about in the semester to come. By the end of the night, Nick had many papers on Troy, Atlantis, the Mayans, and Stonehenge. There were a few papers on the Incas and the Aztecs and Easter Island. There was one paper on the Renaissance. Not really noticing the students, just that they were there, Nick had collected all the papers, his mind elsewhere. As he idly shuffled through them for the subjects, he came across the paper on the Renaissance. He looked at the name. Cara Lambert. Would he always be reminded of Nat? Lacroix had tried to instill in him that they were only humans, and humans die, and that was that. Nick would carry Nat with him forever. He'd contemplated suicide, Nat knew that, but Nick could never will himself to see the sunrise and then go up in flames. He wanted to be human again. But maybe, after 850 years of being what he was, it was futile to search for a cure. Maybe he ought to accept what he was. Lacroix would be proud. His thoughts returned back to the paper on the Renaissance, and he scanned the text. Some of the questions that Cara Lambert wanted to find out were questions Nick could answer for himself...he'd been through them. But there was something about her tone in the paper that almost made Nick think that she had been there. *Now where had that thought come from?* he wondered. And what was an ME doing in Archeology 101, anyway? *** He arrived back at his place, another loft really, a few hours before dawn. As in Toronto, there was a club that catered to the oddities of the city. In Toronto, it was the Raven. Here, it was called The Night Shift. Nick knew that many of the patrons of the club were vampires, but this club would never be the same with out Janette or Lacroix. Since that last night, Lacroix hadn't tried to follow Nick to his new town. The bartender, a young vampire named Brad, knew Nick well; Nick had been here every night since he'd settled in. "The usual," Nick said when Brad came over to him. "Yer looking down tonight, man." Nick looked at the dark-haired vampire, who might have been Javier Vachon's twin, if such a thing were possible. He was even as cocky as Vachon. "Just tired. Thanks for asking." Nick waited until Brad came back with a glass of what looked like red wine. At least it looked like red wine. Since many of the Night Shift's patrons were vampires, the cellar was stocked with blood. Brad special-ordered the cow's blood for Nick. But as he sipped it, hew knew there was something else added to it. He swallowed hard. "What's in here, Brad?" "Oh, I'm sorry, Nick. You must have gotten the mix. I'll take it back." He reached for the glass. "It's OK. I'll drink it." "You sure, Nick?" "I'm sure." "OK, man," Brad said, and went to tend to another customer. Nick left the club and returned home just as the horizon was starting to turn pink. There was someone waiting for him. *** Nick didn't need to see the person that was there, just the *feeling* there was someone waiting for him. And it was that same creepy feeling he'd gotten when he toured the station. "Cara? What are you doing here?" Nick asked, taking off the gloves and coat he always wore, no matter where he was. He draped them over his leather couch. "I tried calling you after class, and all I got was your machine." Nick glanced at the box attached to the phone. It was blinking furiously. She continued, "I got worried, you've been moody since Vicky was partnered with you, and I got your address from her. I hope you don't mind." "Why would I mind? It's near 5 a.m., I have been up all night, and I have to be at work later tonight, I would like some sleep." Nick said, obviously annoyed. He picked up one of his remotes, and closed the blinders on the windows. There was something about Cara that he couldn't explain, but he wanted to be far away from. "Who is she?" "Excuse me?" Nick asked, shocked at this invasion of privacy. He knew what she was asking about. How had she known? "Vicky told me about the picture you've been looking at during work. She says you don't notice her looking at it, but you do. Vicky says the woman is real pretty. Who is she?" Cara seemed to really care. But Nick wanted to know anyway. "Why do you care?" He kept himself in check from snapping at her. "I'm concerned for you. I don't want you to end up in my lab on one of those tables." "I don't think you have to worry about that," Nick said, being cocky. She got closer to him. "Maybe I care about you. I've known people who think they are indestructible, and then I have to end up finding out why they died. And I like a man in leather." She indicated the jacket Nick had tossed aside. "Why don't you go home. I'm sure you have places to be in the morning." "I work when you do. The night shift. I'm not due in until 8 this evening. Actually 9, really." She was close enough to Nick to touch him. She wanted to reach up and kiss his lips. She was drawn to him, and although they'd only met that week, she felt like she'd know him for a long time. Nick realized how close she was, and he stepped back. "You don't know what you're getting into. Go home to sleep, then." She reached around him for her purse on the table with the phone. As she did, she brushed Nick's arm. A tremor shook her body. But it wasn't the fiery heat she expected. It was a chill. Nick pulled back at the contact. There was something about her touch that made him recoil. Purse retrieved and Cara standing in front of him, she opened it and looked through it's contents. "Damn," Nick heard her mumble. "What is it?" Nick tried not to sound too impatient with her. "I don't have my sunglasses." "Your what?" Nick asked, as if he didn't hear her correctly. "My sunglasses. My eyes are ultra sensitive to the sunlight, and if I don't wear them, I get a migraine that lasts almost a day, and I can't keep any food in, and I'm useless at work, and..." "OK, I understand." He put his hands on her shoulders, ignoring the cold that went through him. But this time there was something else he couldn't identify. Something familiar, though. "You, uhm...take the couch, then. And *don't* open the blinds. Your migraines, remember?" She smiled then, and Nick had to remove his hands. The cold was back, and he wanted to be as far away from it as he could be. She put the purse on the couch, and reached her hand out to stroke his stubby cheek. Then she did reach up and kiss his lips. They were soft...and cool. Nick stood there, unmoved by her overture. She stood back away from him. "Thank you. For the sofa I mean." "You're welcome."Nick didn't know what it was about her, but something was definitely not what he expected. He couldn't shake the cold feeling inside when she was near. He went up the spiral stairs in the apartment to the loft, and his room. He'd never used the traditional coffin, but rather a bed, as a human would. Not accustomed to having visitors, he locked his bedroom door. As usual, he slept like the dead. Cara sat down on his leather couch, feeling the softness of the cushions. There was something about Nick that was very familiar. *It was almost as if...* she broke off mid-thought, eyeing the kitchen. It was barely stocked. She opened the refrigerator, and noticed green bottles with dark liquid in them. *He couldn't be...* she thought as she took out one of the bottles and uncorked it. She smelled it. To confirm her suspicions, she tasted it. She tried not to spit it out. Cow's blood. She heard his voice come back to her.... **"I don't think you have to worry about that," he'd said when she told him she didn't want him ending up in her lab. "You don't know what you're getting into," he'd told her when she was standing right next to him.** Now she knew why he was cold. He was a vampire. *** Cara was up with the sunset, as she was every evening. Nick hadn't been up yet, and she didn't hear him moving around upstairs either. She saw the stack of papers Nick had collected from his students the past night at class. Her's was on top. She'd seen the class offered in the brochures the university mailed out to every one in the area. The name of the instructor was printed there. *Nicholas Girard,* it had read, and she knew she'd seen that name before. She had been in an archeology class at the University of Chicago in 1954, where "Dr. Girard" taught archeology. But then they accused him of being a Communist, and Cara wondered what had happened. Nick hadn't aged a day since then, and her earlier conclusion was confirmed. She wasn't Cara Lambert back then, she was Joanne Smith, and she had short red hair instead of black long wavy hair. But Nick hadn't changed. Except maybe the glasses, but now she realized they were only a prop. Cara had been brought across in England, in 1588 by one of the Englishmen who fought against the Spanish Armada. She had been a serving woman in one of the taverns in London, and she went home with the man, her best paying customer that night. Before that sunrise, she knew she'd never see another one again. She'd come a long way, she reflected. She heard him open the bedroom door, and, fully dressed in black, he came down the stairs. "You'd rather be teaching, wouldn't you?" she asked him. "Why do you ask that?" Nick wanted to know. Although he slept like the dead, he'd been awake for sometime, trying to determine what it was about this woman that made him pull away, yet at the same time, he wanted to stay near her. It was that familiar feeling, yet he hated it, and couldn't understand why. "I trust you slept well?" she asked, changing the subject. He was now down the stairs, and standing at the table where the phone and answering machine were. He pressed the playback to clear the machine. All there were was a series of a dozen or so hang-ups. "I don't like talking to machines," she explained when he looked at her. She still wanted to kiss those lips. She moved towards him. "Don't," he said, trying to stop her. But she kept moving, and was now directly in front of him, as she was when she kissed him. He wanted to kiss her, but he knew what he was, and he couldn't get Nat out of his mind. She looked up at him, her mouth slightly parted. He backed away. "Her name was Natalie," he said. She almost asked him who he was talking about, and then she remembered what brought her there in the first place. "Natalie Lambert," he said. "That was why you looked like you'd seen a ghost when Vicky introduced us," she said, stepping closer to him. She reached up, and this time took his face in both her hands. She could hear his heart and blood pulsing. For a moment, Nick thought he heard something pulsating, but he dismissed it, tried to shake his head away from her hands. They were cold, he thought. That was odd. She leaned up to him to kiss him again. "You don't know what you're doing," he warned her again. It was almost a hiss. "Yes, I do," she said, and her lips touched his. She embraced him, feeling his strong back muscles. She kissed his ear, his neck, and she felt Nick doing the same to her, and he held her. He stopped for a minute, and Cara thought she heard a low growl from him. She smiled. "You must stop," he said, through his teeth, which she knew were fangs by now. "I can't," she said through her own fangs. Nick pushed her away, trying not to meet her golden-eyed gaze with his own. But he did. "What is this?" he hissed. "Why didn't you tell me?" "You knew it. It was my touch you pulled away from. I sensed you thought they were familiar, yet you didn't know what it was. I knew from the moment I met you. You were hiding it, and I had to be certain," she said, her eyes still glowing. Nick met her gaze, and then he brought her to him. It had been so long. After a moment, he pulled away from her mouth, and kissed her neck, and then bit her soft thin flesh. It wasn't long before Cara did the same. *Forgive me,* Nat, he thought. *But this is what I am. No more denying it,* he told himself, savoring Cara. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - Forever Knight Fan Fiction (c) 1998 by Caren Franco Only the characters of Cara Lambert, Victoria Paulson and Jordan Richmond are original. All others were created by TriStar television and James Parriott