Date: Sun, 18 Apr 1999 19:58:19 EDT From: Cousin Jules Subject: Men Will Be Boys (01/03) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Usual disclaimers and permission to Mel to archive at her fanfic site. Thanks, Mel. :) ********************* Men Will Be Boys (01/03) by Cousin Jules For B&W Natalie was bent over her microscope, intently examining the organism that swam on the slide she had so carefully placed upon it. She held her breath. she exclaimed mentally, trying to restrain herself from dancing about the morgue. "Heh, heh, heh," she allowed herself to laugh out loud. She picked up the test tube from which she'd taken her sample and looked at it as though it contained the cure for cellulite, bad hair days and water retention. "Eureka." "What?" came a voice from behind her. "AAAAAAAAAAA!" Nat screamed, nearly dropping the test tube. "*Why* do you always *do* that??!!" she yelled at Nick. Nick, looking somewhat chastened, answered, "Sorry, Nat. Old habits and all that." He smiled at her, but it did no good this time. She merely gave him the evil eye. Leaning back against the examining table, Natalie took a deep breath before asking with much gravity, "Do you have any idea what's in this test tube?" "Some kind of damning evidence?" Nick asked as he came to join her in leaning against the table. "Nope," she replied. "Guess again." This time, there was a playful look in her eyes. Nick suddenly stood straight and dropped his hands to his sides. "You mean...?" "Uh huh," Natalie confirmed for him. "I think we've got what it takes to turn that little vampiric virus into mincemeat," she added, winking an eye at him. "That's great!" Nick cried. "But how can you be sure? Don't we have to test it??" "Well, yes, we do have to test it, but, based upon the in vitro results, I'd say we may have found our solution." "But, Nat," Nick began, "I remember what happened with the experiment your friend was involved in - it only caused the fever. It worked fine in the test tube, but it was useless once it was in the body...well, mortal bodies, anyway. You don't think..." "That we could be starting another epidemic here?" Natalie finished for him. "Well, that's always a possibility, I suppose; but, I chose to use something that isn't nearly as deadly. Annoying, perhaps, but that's about it." "Aren't you going to tell me what it is?" Nick asked her. "Hmmmmm...I think not," she responded, the scientist in her taking charge. "I don't want you to have any preconceived ideas about how it might affect you." "Oh, alright, then," Nick said, looking like a small boy who'd had his little red wagon impounded. Natalie ignored his pouting, walked over to the morgue's large refrigerator and extracted a bag of human blood. Locating a clean coffee cup, she filled the mug and poured half the contents of the test tube into it, then stirred. She held the mug out to Nick. "Sorry about the fact that it's going to be cold," she apologised, "but I worry that the heat might affect the virus' ability to do its job, if not kill it altogether." Nick took the mug from her and then looked into her eyes. He felt as if he was making the most momentous decision of his existence; even more so than when he was brought across. After all, he truly hadn't known what he had been asking for then. Now, he realised, he was turning his back on immortality, on his superhuman powers and abilities; as well, he was turning his back on the only family he'd known for 800 years. Nick was looking forward to seeing the sun again, but knew that it came with a price: sickness, pain, aging and death. For one small moment, he hesitated. Seeing the look of determination in Natalie's eyes, however, gave him the push he needed. Lifting the cup to his lips, Nick took a large swallow, hoping that this mixture did, indeed, contain his cure, all the while relishing the shudder of pleasure he felt as the blood coursed down his throat. Suddenly, there was the sound of displaced air, and three persons now occupied the morgue's examining room -- one of them looked very unhappy. "Give me that," Lacroix said, easily taking the mug from his wayward son's grasp. "And that," he added as he pulled the test tube from the coroner's hand. He examined it; then, as he looked casually at Nick and Natalie's anxious faces, let the test tube drop and smash on the room's tile floor. "What's this?" he asked, examining the mug and its contents. "Blood," Nat volunteered. "Blood? Human blood?" Lacroix asked in disbelief. "You know, for auld lang syne and all that," she added. Lacroix lifted one eyebrow in question. "Thank you for so rudely interrupting," Nick said with barely contained anger. "Au contraire, it looks like I arrived just in time," Lacroix replied. "Had I been a moment later, who knows what would have happened?" He looked at the mug again. The blood was calling to him, and he couldn't resist. He took a swallow before anyone could stop him. A look of disgust crossed his features. "Cold. Here," he said, giving it back to Nick. "Enjoy it - if you can." Nick and Nat exchanged worried glances. "Don't ever think you can hide these things from me, Nicholas. You know it's not possible," Lacroix admonished him. "In your case, the adage 'try, try again' is just not useful." Laughing a wicked laugh, he whooshed from the room. End part 1 ****************** Comments, praise and jewelry, please, to KnightGal@aol.com All the usual disclaimers. I don't own anything and I'm not making any money here (*sob*!). Permission to Mel to archive. :) *************** Men Will Be Boys (02/03) by Cousin Jules c. 1999 "What do we do now, Nat?" Nick asked nervously, then gulped down the blood remaining in the cup. "Run?" Nick frowned. "Do you really think that one sip would make him mortal? And why is it that one of us can't answer a question here?" Natalie bowed her head slightly, pinching the bridge of her nose as was her habit at times such as this. "I think it might be worse than mortality, Nick," she said looking worried. "Worse? How?" "He might...get something. Actually, since you didn't take the full dosage," she continued as she gestured to the mug in his hands, "it's quite possible you're going to end up with something as well." "Just what kind of 'something' are we talking about here?" Nick asked, now worried. "It won't break me out in a rash, will it? Or make me itch? I can still remember the fleas in the Holy Land. Actually, though, they weren't any worse than the home grown variety..." Natalie watched as Nick 'zoned out.' She could only imagine - and only wanted to imagine - what kind of flashback was flitting through his blond head. She waited a full 30 seconds before she removed the squirt gun which she always kept concealed in her desk drawer and aimed for her target. Originally, Nat had bought it to keep Sidney off the kitchen table, but it was so much more fun to use on Nick. "Sorry, Nat," he told her apologetically as he grabbed a tissue and wiped off the side of his face. "Oh, well, what's a little illness? If it means I get back my mortality, I couldn't care less." Natalie sighed. "Don't get your hopes up too high, Nick. This was just a test. We still don't know what the virus will do to you." "But if vampires were even susceptible to such a thing, wouldn't we have caught it at some point during the centuries?" "This wasn't your average virus," she answered, "but one I was able to alter in such a way that it only targets the vampiric anomalies in your blood. It's harmless to mortals." Nick smiled. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see exactly what affect it has, then. I'm hoping you've found the answer this time, though," he said sincerely, after which he grasped her upper arms and, pulling her to him, kissed her softly on the lips. Nat raised an eyebrow when he pulled away, and Nick wondered if he was losing his touch. "How do you feel?" she queried in her best clinical manner, trying to ignore the fluttering of her heart. He thought a moment, then frowned. "Fine. I feel...fine." Maybe they hadn't happened upon his hoped-for miracle after all. "Give it some time, Nick," she admonished him. "Besides, if you end up getting sick instead of regaining your mortality, you're going to wish you'd never sampled my little brew." "Well, if I do get sick, how bad can it be? I'm sure it's one of those things mortals blow out of proportion," he commented with a dismissive wave of one hand as he walked towards the door that led to the outer corridor. "Oh, you are, are you?" she asked, slightly irritated. "Of course," he replied confidently. Looking at the clock on the wall, he said, "Listen, I'd better get back to the precinct or Cohen is going to have my head. I'll call you if anything happens." He waved good-bye, leaving Natalie to ponder the possibility of life in a universe filled with sick vampires; worse, sick, *male* vampires. Oy... *************************** A hand reached out from under black silken sheets and fumbled for the clock on the bedside table. He'd lain there long enough thinking . Still, it wasn't as though he slept in every night. He turned the clock face towards him and, with alarm, noted that it was nearly 9:30 p.m. He wondered what in blazes was happening. He hadn't slept this late since the time he'd gotten waylaid by those two whip-carrying, Egyptian dancing girls in Alexandria, and... Hmmmm. Maybe he'd just stay where he was for another five minutes. On the other hand, maybe he'd just stay there, period. He felt so very tired, and having perfect recall did have an 'up' side sometimes...Lacroix picked up the phone from its cradle and put in a call to CERK, instructing them to run tapes of an old show. He was sick. Yes, that was it: he was sick and, since he had something like 300 days of sick leave accumulated, he dared them to make him feel guilty about it. Of course, he wasn't *really* sick, but it certainly wasn't going to bother his conscience. *ACHOO!* Lacroix instantly sat straight up, wondering if there was someone in the room with him. He hadn't detected a heartbeat, and he certainly couldn't have been the one to utter such a dreadful noise. He wasn't given time to wonder, however, as he suddenly felt the dull thud of a headache behind his eyes. This wasn't happening. he thought. *ACHOO!!* ****************** "Hey, what's the matter, partner?" Schanke asked from across the desk. "You look like something I left in the back of my refrigerator for too long." Nick blinked his eyes and looked up at Schanke. He didn't feel very good, come to think of it. His head hurt, his eyes were watering, he was feverish, and he felt the strangest sensation coming on... *ACHOO!* Schanke quickly pushed his chair back. "Hey, Nick, I think you're getting a cold. Do me a favour, will ya? Go home? I've managed to come through the winter without a scratch, and I don't want to ruin my good record now. Besides, colds are the worst - you can't taste anything!" "You really think I might have a cold?" Nick asked forlornly. "If you don't, you're doin' a great impersonation." Nick sniffed, felt inside his coat pocket and retrieved a black handkerchief. "You know, I really don't feel well. Maybe I should go home." In all honesty, he was feeling worse as the minutes ticked by. In fact, he was sure he was dying. Something must have gone terribly wrong with Nat's concoction. "Make my excuses to Cohen when she gets back from lunch?" "Sure, Knight," his partner said affably. "Take care, eh? Let Myra or me know if you need some chicken soup or something?" "Will do," Nick agreed as he closed the file before him and shuffled into his jacket. *ACHOO!!* "Geez, Nick, will you cover your mouth and nose when you do that?" Schanke pled. "Sorry, Schanke," Nick told him as he stood. "It's been about 8...8 years since I got anything like this." "S'ok. Just get some rest, alright?" Nodding his aching head, Nick bid adieu to his partner and walked slowly from the precinct. He'd come through fires, stakes, wackos and more, and now he was probably going to die from some insignificant little virus. Life just wasn't fair sometimes... ************** The morgue's phone rang, rousing Natalie from her tuna fish sandwich and the latest Emily Weiss novel. "Hello?" "Nat? Schanke here." "Um, I haven't gotten that tox screen back on the McCarthy case yet, if that's what you're looking for, Schanke. Things here been a bit...busy here," she fibbed. "Nah, that's not why I'm calling. Just thought you should know about Nick." "Nick? What about Nick?" she asked through the rapidly growing frog in her throat. "Looks like he's comin' down with something. Sounds like a cold, and you know how he is: Mr. Macho. I'm sure he'll suffer in silence rather than call you and tell you himself. I offered to bring him some chicken soup, but I'm sure he'd rather have you there to 'mother' him, if you get my drift." "Uh, yeah, Schanke. Thanks," Natalie told him. "I'll keep you posted." She hung up the phone and abandoned her book and sandwich. "A cold...Oh my my my..." ************************ A short time later, Nat stepped from the elevator and into Nick's loft, medical bag in hand. As usual, it was pretty dark, and if it hadn't been for the light emanating from the large TV screen on the other side of the room, she never would have noticed the small pile of blankets on the dark leather sofa. Worse, she never would have noticed Nick under the small pile of blankets on the dark leather sofa. "You're here." *cough*cough*sniffle* Natalie looked at him in alarm. He looked terrible. Perhaps she had miscalculated. Maybe this virus was far deadlier than she had, at first, supposed. "I'm here, Nick," she said in a comforting tone of voice. She reached into her medical bag and pulled out a thermometer. Sticking it in his mouth, she felt his forehead and then began to take his pulse. He didn't feel that warm, and his pulse hadn't increased by more than one beat for every two minutes. Still, he looked dreadful. She held her breath as she removed the thermometer. "I'm dying, aren't I, Nat? You can tell me. I can take it. I knew there were risks..." "According to this, your temperature is a whole .5 degrees higher than normal, Nick. No, judging from all the signs, I'd say you just have a cold." Natalie felt divided at that moment, both elated and annoyed. On the one hand, she was convinced Nick would recover, and she was relieved to know it. On the other hand... "A cold? Are you sure, Nat?" *sniffle*sniffle* "I've never felt this bad before. I'm sure it's curtains..." *cough*cough* "You're going to be okay, Nick," she confirmed to him as she patted his hand. "As I suspected, you didn't ingest enough of the virus for it to have an effect." "Well, no offense, Nat, but if this isn't the full effect, I think I'll skip the whole thing." *sniffle*cough*sniffle* Natalie's eyes narrowed. All the days she had sat up trying this, that and the other; all the time she'd spent on research, rather than going out and having some fun; all those 'due South' eps she'd forgotten to tape because she'd been so engrossed in her work... She held her temper and said again - this time through slightly clenched teeth, "I told you, Nick. You're going to be *fine.* But I think you could use something other than cow right now. Shall I call Janette or will you?" *sniffle* "Gee, Nat, could you?" *cough* "Oh, and, while you're up, could you give me the remote over there," he said, pointing to the other end of the coffee table. "If I have to watch one more infomercial for a cheese shredder-cum-tomato slicer, I'm going to go mad. Mad, I tell you!" Ignoring the histrionics, Natalie reached the full three feet over and retrieved the remote for her patient, then went to make her call. She was on the point of picking up the receiver, when the phone started ringing. "Hello? Oh, hello, Janette. I was just going to call you...Calm down...What's that?...Lacroix's what??...Well, I'm sure I'm the last person he'd want to see...You think he might be amenable, eh?...What are the symptoms?...Um hmmm...Um hmmmm....Um hummm...Oh he is, is he? In that case, I think we should talk...Right, I'll come over there. I need to pick up some supplies for Nick, anyway....Yes, he's in the same shape...OK, Janette. See you soon." Natalie hung up the phone and looked over at Nick who now clearly had the words "I'm dead meat, aren't I?" written all over his face. "He isn't...?" "Um, yes...He is," Nat answered. Nick retreated further under his blankets as Natalie opened up her medical bag and extracted two packets of whole blood. "Here," she said, handing them to him. "This should do till I get back." "Don't feel like it," said her patient, pouting pathetically. "Drink it," she ordered, "even if you don't feel like it. It will help you get better. And now," she continued as she made for the lift, "it's time for some girl talk..." End Part 2 ************ Comments and chocolate, please, to KnightGal@aol.com Well, here's part 3. Sorry this took so long, everyone. Hope I've managed to maintain the interest of at least some of you. See usual disclaimers in part 1. Permission to Mel to archive. :) *************** Men Will Be Boys (03/03) by Cousin Jules c. 1999 Natalie pulled up in front of the Raven just as the last of the customers appeared to be exiting the vampiric nightclub. A head peered around the door at her. It was Miklos. He nodded in her direction to invite her in, and, medical bag in hand, she took a deep breath and walked into the lion's den... "I'm so glad you are here, Dr. Lambert," Miklos said, locking the door behind them. "Janette is about at her wit's end, I fear." "Is he *that* bad, Miklos?" Natalie asked, wondering how he could be worse off than Nick. "Well..." he began to say at the same time they began to ascend the stairway at the back of the club. "Natalie!" Janette called out from the top of the stairs. "I am so glad you are here." Nat stopped dead in her tracks as she examined the woman before her. She was in jeans and a t-shirt, dark hair mostly held up by a hair clip in the back of her head - 'mostly,' because a lot of it was hanging down around her face or falling out of the clip, as if she'd been dashing about all night. "Janette??" she asked in disbelief. "Is that you?" With a noticeable sigh, Janette said, "Oui, c'est moi. And I need 'a break.' S'il vous plait?" she asked, indicating that Nat should follow her down the hallway. Natalie followed her, passing the familiar door marked 'Manager.' She'd never been any further than that. She'd never wanted to go any further than that. "What's been happening?" Nat inquired. "As I told you on the phone, I don't think it is anything serious, Doctor, just worrisome. Oh, and then there is the constant, 'Janette, can you get me this?' 'Janette, can you get me that?' 'Janette, can you fluff my pillow?' 'Janette, can you not block my view of the Yankees game?' I tell you, Natalie, I do not know how mortal women cope." When they'd finally reached the end of the hallway, Janette motioned to the door before them. "He's in here." She opened the door and allowed Natalie to pass, then let Miklos know it would be alright for him to close up and take off for the night. Stepping through the door, she saw Lacroix. He was in bed, blankets pulled midway up his torso. Like Nick, he seemed to favour pyjamas of black silk. He looked at her from under hooded eyes as she approached the bed, appearing as though he was getting ready to shuffle off the mortal coil at any minute. "I presume I have *you* to thank for my - *sniffle* - current condition, Dr. Lambert," he said accusingly. "Just what have you done to me?" Fighting the urge to turn right back around and leave the old relic to himself, Natalie replied, "Well, now, just give me a minute, and I'll be able to tell you." So saying, she checked him over, just as she had done previously with Nick. Not surprisingly, the results were similar. "Yup, I'm afraid that's it." *ACHOO!* "You're afraid what's 'it'?" he asked as he pulled a black tissue from a tissue holder. "Wait a minute," Natalie said eying the tissue in his hand. "*Black* tissues? Where does one get *black* tissues?" "Where does one procure bottled bloodwine, Doctor? Where does one find emergency 'flights' out of 'Dodge' before dawn? Where does one take one's clothes to cleaned of 'evidence' at 4 a.m., hmmmm? Really, Dr. Lambert...We may be vampires, but we have not lost our 'entreprenurial spirit.'" Natalie rolled her eyes. "So - *cough* - what is your pwognosis?" he asked as he held a tissue to his nose and blew. "My pwog...my prognosis is that you have a cold," she responded. "Impossible," he retorted as he tried to toss the tissue into a wastebasket across the room, barely missing. He looked disappointed. "Vampires don't get colds." "Then what's this? Hay fever? Come on, Lacroix. Just *deal* with it." She had a sudden urge to reach out and pinch one of his cheeks just for the heck of it, but she resisted. "Besides, this is what you get for showing up and interfering. And it could have been worse: you could have become mortal." Lacroix was about to turn on full intimidation mode when Janette approached them. "Ahem," she said as she sat down on the opposite side of the bed from Natalie. "If you wouldn't mind it too much, Natalie, I was wondering if you would be able to stay here a short time while I clean up. I could even take over the blood for Nicolas, if you'd like." Considering Nick's state of mind just then, Nat decided it wasn't such a bad idea. Well, except for the fact that she'd have to babysit the ancient pain before her. "Um, sure," she said, suddenly thinking that maybe she could sneak a blood sample when Lacroix wasn't looking... "You don't mind, do you, mon cher?" Janette asked sweetly as she patted her father's hand. "No - *sniff*cough* - I don't mind, Janette," he answered, looking rather dejected. "If you'd rather be with - *cough*cough* - Nicholas than me, I don't want to keep you." Janette scrunched her lips up and took on an 'awwww' look. "It's only for a little while, Lacroix. Natalie has been so kind to look in on Nicolas and then to come here, I thought I would just save her another trip." "Well - *sniff* - alright, then. But tell Nicholas that he's going to pay this time." "I will, Lacroix," she promised him with a mock seriousness he didn't notice. "Bon soir for now, cher," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. She left the room, closing the door behind her and praying Natalie didn't push her luck too far while she was away. When she got to her room, Janette felt compelled to slump against the back of the door. "Men...." Meanwhile, back in Lacroix's room.... "Well, what do we do now?" Lacroix asked. "What do you mean, 'what do we do now?'?" she asked in kind as she got off the bed and replaced her medical periphenalia in her bag. "We rest, and" she continued as she poured him a glass of bloodwine, "we drink our blood." Natalie handed it to him, but he just sat there. "No, I refuse," he told her, doing a remarkable impersonation of his son. "I never thought I'd see the day when....Well, you have to drink it if you want to get better any time soon," she chided him. He all but snatched the glass out of her hand and gulped down its contents. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked, but no reply was forthcoming from Lacroix. He simply slumped down further under the covers and gave her a dirty look. She threw herself into a nearby chair, clasped her hands in front of her and looked at him. Surprisingly, he soon turned his attention away from her and back to the television. He was still watching the baseball game. "Funny, but I never figured you for the baseball type." Lacroix spoke without looking in her direction. "Don't get your hopes up, my dear. This is merely one of my many investments I like to look in on from time to time." "Oh, I see. So, who's winning?" ************** Four hours later, and Natalie was still sitting in Lacroix's room waiting for Janette to return. The game was long over, and Natalie had tried to cajole Lacroix into a game of poker, but he'd told her he was in so much pain that he simply wouldn't be able to concentrate on it. She'd proposed tic-tac-toe, hangman and the TV Guide crossword puzzle, but, again, she failed to get him interested in anything. Instead, he just sat there and brooded between glasses of blood she'd have to practically force down his throat. "I will take a shoulder massage, though," he suggested. Natalie's jaw dropped open. "Ha!" "I thought you were here to help me." "Yeah, well, shoulder massages aren't necessary to recover from a cold." "Oh - *sniff* - alright, then," Lacroix replied. "Has anyone told you you have no bedside manner, Dr. Lambert?" Natalie sighed. It would be dawn in just a matter of minutes, so she assumed Janette would be arriving any time. But, just in case...Natalie pulled out her cell phone and called the loft. Nick's telephone rang and rang. Odd. 'Hi, this is Nick Knight. I'm either in bed or...' "Hello?" came Janette's voice from the other end, her breathing sounding somewhat erratic. "Sorry, Janette, did't mean to make you have to make a run for the phone," Natalie said good-naturedly. "How's Nick doing?" "Fine," Janette said rather quickly. "Just fine." Natalie could hear a hand being put over the receiver and what sounded like giggling. "You'll be back soon, won't you?" she asked Janette. "Isn't it nearly sunrise??" "Oh, my, look at the time!" Janette exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Natalie. It looks as if the sun is rising right at this moment. I suppose I shall have to stay with Nicolas for the day. Oh my...." <'Oh my,' my aspidistra> Nick was going to pay alright. "Good-bye, Janette. We'll talk about this later," Natalie told her meaningfully. She switched off her phone and looked up to find Lacroix looking at her. "Well? Is she on her way back?" Lacroix inquired. "You didn't hear that?" Lacroix shook his head and pointed to his ears. "This lovely present of yours - *ACHOO!* - has affected my hearing as well," he said. In explanation, Natalie walked over to the curtains and pulled them back just a tad so that Lacroix could see the problem. "Dawn," was all he said. He slunk further down in the bed. "That means Janette won't be back till tonight." Natalie wasn't sure what she had been expecting - rage, annoyance, simple anger - but she hadn't thought despondency would have been among the reactions. She almost felt sorry for the old guy. "I can stay," she volunteered. "I don't have to go into work tonight, and Sidney has plenty of food to keep him happy." "I wouldn't want to keep you, Doctor. I know how...fond you are of me." She didn't know how he was doing it, but somehow the Master of All That Was Evil was making her feel guilty. "Look," Nat began, "I'm only doing my medical duty here. Besides, you're out of blood. Are you going to go downstairs to get it?" "Like this?" Lacroix said, indicating to himself. "I think not. If news of my condition gets around the Community, the press could be bad, and that could be dangerous for everyone's health. Anyway, I don't want anymore blood right now. No, Doctor, I think it best if you go and just leave me here. Alone. By myself. All day." Natalie crossed her arms, leaned back in the chair and counted to ten before daring to speak. "Ya know, we could actually use this situation to our advantage." Lacroix raised one eyebrow. "Pray, tell. How?" Clearly, he didn't believe it possible. "Well, Janette has just *happened* to strand herself at the loft. Nick, from what little I could hear, didn't seem to be very upset about that turn of events or about the fact that I have been left in close proximity to you, and that you have been deprived of Janette's - how shall we say it? - caregiving." Nat looked over at Lacroix and could see the wheels were turning. "Dr. Lambert, you really should allow me to bring you across, you know. You can be so very...naughty sometimes. We could have such fun." Natalie looked at him thoughtfully. "Perhaps I'll consider it," she said, and a part of her meant it. "But for now, I think we should plan our strategy." "Oh, my dear, I agree completely." ******************** As evening descended upon Toronto, the only two, sick vampires in town had practically recovered. Nick felt so well, in fact, that he escorted Janette back to the Raven. They entered the club, arm and arm, looking like a pair of young lovers. "You know, Janette," Nick said as they climbed the stairs, "I'm going to have to get sick more often." "Why?" she asked once they reached the top of the stairway. She coiled her arms about his neck. "Do you like feeling miserable?" "No, but I do like your 'cure,'" he answered before covering her mouth with his kiss. Janette could not help but laugh. "Come along," she said pulling away. "I'd better go check on Lacroix." "All good things must come to an end," Nick muttered under his breath as they approached his room. They entered, not quite prepared for the scene before them. Lacroix was still in bed in his pyjamas. Natalie was there, too. Nick thought. She had slipped into something a little more comfortable - a bright red, flimsy negligee - and was sitting next to Lacroix on the bed. Her hair seemed to glow in the light of the fire that had been lit in the fireplace, and she was....laughing. Lacroix lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. Natalie blushed. "Ahem," Nick and Janette said in perfect unison. Natalie and Lacroix looked up as if only noticing their entry into the room. "Nick!" Nat cried. "How are you? You look *so* much better." Nick was not ready for this utter lack of embarrassment on Natalie's part. "Um, fine, Nat," he said, looking at Janette. "At least, I think I'm fine. Um, maybe you ought to check me out again." Janette gave Nick a withering glare. Natalie gave him the once over from where she sat. "No, I'd say you look pretty darn good, Nick. Lucien seems to be doing better as well. Aren't you, darling?" "Quite," Lacroix answered as he lifted her hand again to his lips. "'Lucien'?" Nick all but yelled. "'Darling'?!" Janette marched over to the bed. "Thank you, Natalie," she told the mortal woman. "I think I can handle things from here." "Really, Janette," Nat began to say as she held one hand to her chest, "I wouldn't want you to have to spend another night away from the club. Besides, it looks like everyone is well enough to take care of themselves." "Well, now," Lacroix said as he looked deep into Nat's eyes, "let's not be too hasty, my dear. Who knows? I might have a relapse if we take things...too quickly." Nat released a noticeable sigh and affectionately squeezed the hand which held her own. "Yeah, Nat - *cough*sniffle* (these, btw, were fake coughs and sniffles) - we might have a relapse," Nick said, purposefully interrupting the romantic 'moment.' He knew he didn't dare look at Janette, however. The coroner looked over to her erstwhile patient. "You look fine to me," she told him bluntly, then went back to gazing into Lacroix's eyes, a dreamy expression coming over her. Janette and Nick stayed in place until Lacroix had had enough. "Do run along, my children. Dr. Lambert...I mean, Natalie and I have much to discuss. Don't we, my dear?" Nat merely glanced down and blushed again. Nick and Janette finally looked at one another and silently took their leave, crestfallen, thinking how unfair unlife had suddenly become. "So," Nat said as she reached over the edge of the bed after they had gone and retrieved a green bottle and a large bowl of popcorn as Lacroix pointed the remote at the television and pressed the "On" button, "who are the Yankees playing tonight???" The End ************************** Comments, critiques and baseball memorabilia to KnightGal@aol.com