Date: Sun, 10 Mar 1996 20:14:11 +0200
From: Marina Bailey <tmar@OHM.FAST.CO.ZA>
Subject: Old Woes New 1/1

This is sort of a meditation that came to me. All I can say is I've been
listening to the Beauty and the Beast CD *way* too much, and reading far
too much Shakespeare. I'm actually amazed at how many of Shakespeare's
sonnets fit FK.

Insert standard disclaimers here. Comments would be appreciated.

                            OLD WOES NEW

Natalie had left ten messages on Nick's machine, and he still hadn't
called. She knew why: he was brooding again. Earlier that night they had
been at yet another crime scene, and Natalie had seen first-hand just
how much Nick had backslid since his memory loss and encounter with
possession. So much had happened to him, and she could see his precious
control, his tenuous grip on humanity, slipping away. What was worse was
the fact that there was nothing she could do about it.
   Nick had been unable to go near the body due to all the blood. Tracy
had frowned and looked at Nat quizzically, but Natalie had shrugged and
offered a lame excuse. "Sometimes it gets to the best of us, Trace."
Tracy had accepted that, but she wouldn't have if she'd seen what
Natalie had seen: Nick's eyes, glowing gold as he looked at her.
   Natalie called one last time. "Damn you, Nick, pick up the phone!"
She knew she must sound like the worst kind of nag, but she didn't care.
Somehow, she had to get through to him. She grabbed her coat and headed
over to his place.

"Nick?" He was lying on the couch, a bottle of blood in his hand,
looking rather the worse for wear.
   As much as it pained her to do it, Natalie marched over and took the
bottle away. As she did so, she got a whiff of the contents and knew
that it wasn't cow blood Nick was drinking.
   "Nick, what are you doing?"
   "I can't do it anymore, Nat. I can't. Nothing I do makes any
difference, nothing *we* do makes any difference." Before Natalie could
protest he rushed on. "It's all a waste of time, my searching for a
cure. There isn't one, there wasn't one, there never will be. I've been
a fool to look for it. Why am I doing it, anyway? To regain my lost
humanity? What a joke."

         When to the Sessions of sweet silent thought
         I summon up remembrance of things past,
         I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
         And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:

"It isn't a joke, not if that's what you really want. And there are
different degrees of humanity, Nick. Only one of those is biological."
   "I can't do it," he said again. "I've tried for so long, and found
nothing." The last was said with a vehemence Natalie had seldom heard
from Nick.
   "I won't let you give up, Nick. I won't."
   "You said it before, Nat. This life, this... time... it's only an
eyeblink to me." He snorted with derision. "LaCroix said it too. Blink
and they'll be gone." He got up and grabbed the bottle off the coffee
table where Nat had put it. Then he drank, straight from the bottle, not
caring. "Do you know how many people have tried to help me, how many
people I've seen turn to dust? Mortals die. All the people I've cared
about, you all die. Only, not me. No, no, I have to keep going, keep
living with this curse."

         Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
         For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
         And weep afresh love's long-since-cancell'd woe,
         And moan th' expense of many a vanish'd sight:

"Stop it, Nick." Natalie stared at him. Everything she could think of,
she'd said before. He had arguments for every point she'd make.
Repetition, that's what this was. Just boring repetition. Even Nick knew
it. "I've heard it all before, *you've* heard it all before. What do I
have to do, hit you over the head with a... a brick?"
   Nick looked at her, gold in his eyes. "I might have listened before,
but these setbacks... they're too much. And you..." He trailed off, not
wanting to verbalise something which they both knew.
   "And me, what?"
   "Nothing."
   "Nick, talk to me. Tell me."
   "Sometimes I think... I'm not doing this for me anymore. I'm doing it
for you." There. He'd said it.
   "What do you mean, for me?"
   "You... you don't care about *me*, Nick Knight, Nicolas de Brabant,
vampire cop. You only care about the part that's human." The look in his
eyes dared her to deny it.
   "I..." Natalie couldn't say anything, because she feared it was true.
   "You see, Nat? You can't deal with it when I change. You become
afraid, you tell me not to do it. But how can I not do it? This is what
I am."
   "It isn't what you want to be."
   Nick drank from the bottle of human blood again. "I don't know
anymore, Nat. I just don't know. These last few months, I've been
thinking... maybe being mortal isn't what I want. Maybe what I want is
forgiveness. Redemption. But how can I expect that from..." He looked
skyward, "... when you can't accept me?" Pause. "Maybe I'm not worth
accepting."

         Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
         And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
         The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
         Which I new pay as if not paid before.

Fear. There it was, inside her, telling her to get away, away from the
emerging vampire. 'Whatever you say now, Natalie, it better be good.'
She knew that one wrong word would mean the end of everything: the end
of her and Nick, the end of Nick's search for humanity, the end of
Nick's life here... maybe even the end of Nick's *life*. He was poised
on the edge, and whatever she said would pull him back, or push him
over. So, she went for the truth.
   "Nick, I love you."
   "Not the vampire. You don't."
   Natalie knelt in front of the couch where Nick was still sitting.
"Yes, I love you. All of you. I won't say that side of you doesn't scare
me, but I do love everything about you. Everything. I push you about
being human because that's what you said you wanted." She paused. "Do
you want it?"
   "I don't know anymore, Natalie. I need... time. To figure it out.
Just... don't push it, okay? Will you give me time?"
   "Take all the time you want. Just... I need to know the truth. About
how you feel."
   Nick put the blood back on the coffee table, and then leaned back on
the couch, holding her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. "I love
you, Natalie. But..."
   "No. No buts. We know all the problems, all the obstacles. I can deal
with those - with anything - as long as you don't shut me out."
   "It's hard to let anyone in."
   "I know. If you can let me in, I can face my fear. Deal?"
   "Deal."
   Natalie got off the floor and sat next to Nick on the couch. "You
think you can carry on working now?"
   "Yeah. Actually, I should call Tracy..." Nick made a grab for the
phone, but Natalie put her hand on his. "In a minute." Nick felt the
warmth of her hand, and deliberately let his eyes change. To see her
reaction.
   And Natalie was surprised at herself, when, instead of pushing away,
she leaned against him, and their lips met.
   The kiss was bittersweet and full of longing, and when they parted,
Natalie said, "Will you be okay now?"
   "Yeah," said Nick, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "I think
I'll be okay."

         But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
         All losses are restored and sorrows end.

                            THE END

                Copyright Marina Bailey, March 1996.
                      All rights reserved.


... Oh, and get that fish out of the Ready Room.
___ Blue Wave/QWK v2.12