From: CFoster425@aol.com 
Received: from CFoster425@aol.com 
Date: Sat, 23 Oct 1999 12:08:43 EDT 
Subject: A Question of the Soul 
To: fkarchiver@fkfanfic.com 
I just wanted to say a few things before starting 
this story. :)

It takes place in the third season between the eps 
'Games Vampires Play' and 'Human Factor'.  I have, however, 
taken a couple of liberties.  The time frame of the third 
season in this story is about 2 years with eps occurring every 
month or so.  Since we haven't gotten a 4th season or a 
movie, I didn't think it would do too much harm to stretch the 
third season out a bit.  I've also taken a device introduced
later in the series (after 'Human Factor') and used it in this 
story.  Other than these two liberties, I've tried to stick to 
the time frame I placed on the story.

Oh, another thing.  This story is rather dark.  Well, 
it's <very> dark.  It is also loaded with angst.  One of my 
beta readers (waves to Heather-Anne) must have used some 
form of the word 'angst' at least...oh gosh, I don't know how 
many times while reading it.  So, if you don't like dark, angsty 
stories, I would suggest you skip this one. :)

Thanks:  First, I'd like to thank Cousin Cherry Munoz.  Without
her initial belief and encouragement, I never would have thought
myself capable of writing at all.  She gave me terrific support.
I'll always be thankful for her kind support.  Thanks Cherry!!  

I'd also like to thank my two beta readers, Nancy 
Taylor and Heather-Anne Gillis.  These ladies are 
WONDERFUL.  I can't thank them enough for all they've done.  
Without their help and encouragement I never would have gotten anywhere 
close to finishing  this thing.  Thank you both SOOOOO much. :)

Disclaimers:  Nick and company don't belong to me.  They are 
the property of James Parriott and Sony/Tristar.  No infringement
is intended.

------------------------------------------------

A Question of the Soul
by
Catherine A. Foster


        He stared up at the bulging shelves of the 
store, feeling overwhelmed and confused.  The toys 
seemed to stretch as far as the eye, even his special 
eye, could see.  There were trucks, cars and 
motorcycles of all kinds and sizes.  There were board 
games, electronic games and dolls.  What was a 
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle anyway?  There were guns, 
costumes, learning games, coloring books, markers and 
balls of every variety.  He picked up a baseball and 
tossed it in the air as a smile touched his mouth.  
Elliot loved going to watch the Blue Jays play.  
Maybe he would like...?  The vampire shook his head.  
No, he'd forgotten.  The boy already had a baseball 
<and> a glove.  As a matter of fact, the only child 
of his good friend Jacob Simmons had more toys than a 
boy would ever have time to enjoy.  Two sets of 
doting grandparents, along with other family members 
and friends, had seen to that.  So why was he here 
looking for something to add to the multitude?  When 
he thought about it, it really didn't make much 
sense.  But he wanted his little friend to delight in 
the gift, and a toy, whether Elliot needed it or not, 
seemed to be the logical choice.  He put the ball 
back in the bin.
        Elizabeth had told him not to worry about 
getting her son a present.  Just his being at the 
small get-together she had planned would be enough to 
make the youngster happy.  But he couldn't show up 
without something to give Elliot on the first 
birthday he would share with his small friend.  He 
had to find something appropriate.
        His eyes continued to scan the endless 
collection of toys as he walked down the aisles.  He 
saw puzzles, stuffed animals, skates, skateboards, 
tricycles and bicycles.  What <did> you get a six-
year-old for his birthday?  Throughout his almost 800 
years, Nicholas Knight had had very few reasons to 
consider that question.
        As he moved along, Nick was so immersed in 
his search that he didn't notice the woman, whose 
arms were filled with several boxes, until he bowled 
into her.  The contact sent the parcels flying.  Nick 
reached out to steady the woman as he apologized.  
"Are you all right?  I'm sorry.  I didn't see you 
standing there."  He flashed a repentant smile at the 
frowning young woman as he released her.
        But neither his words, nor his smile, 
appeared to have any soothing affect.  The vampire 
heard an irritated sigh leave the woman's lips before 
she dropped her hands on her hips.  An impatient 
glare shot from her eyes when she looked up into his 
face.  Her voice, at least to Nick's ears, was a 
little louder than it needed to be when she finally 
spoke.  "What?  Do you need glasses or something?  
How could you <not> see me standing here holding all 
these boxes?"
        Nick's smile faded at the annoyed words, and 
he felt a twinge of anger rise at her unwillingness 
to accept his apology.  //It was an accident.  Can't 
she see that?  She doesn't have to be so short with 
me.//  A dark look moved across his face, and he 
opened his mouth to express these thoughts, but 
quickly closed it as he took a closer look at the 
tired mortal standing before him.
        He noted the tendrils of dark hair that had 
escaped a bun that he was certain had started the day 
neatly tucked at the back of her head.  Her pretty 
face was drawn with fatigue, and the shadow of 
circles showed under her brown eyes.  She'd let her 
hands drop from her hips, and her shoulders drooped 
without the support.  The business suit she wore was 
wrinkled and limp from a long day's wear, and she 
appeared the slightest bit unsteady on her high 
heels.  She was the picture of exhaustion, and his 
collision with her had only helped to unnerve the 
lady.  Sympathy replaced the anger.  His sharp retort 
was quickly forgotten.
        Instead, he bent down and started gathering 
the scattered boxes as she continued to chastise him.  
"I was lucky enough to find the <last> red Power 
Ranger doll.  My little boy's been asking for one for 
months.  You better hope it didn't break because of 
your clumsiness.  There's only a little over a month 
left until Christmas, and I won't be able to get hold 
of another one in time if it <is> broken."
        Nick had the parcels gathered and stacked 
neatly on the floor by the time the woman finished 
voicing her concerns.  He picked the toys up, and, as 
he straightened, became uncomfortably aware of the 
curious looks he and his victim were receiving from 
other customers in the crowded store.  Again he tried 
to smooth things over.  "I really am very sorry."  He 
paused a moment to search the woman's face for any 
sign of forgiveness.  He saw none.  The apologetic 
smile returned as he continued, a hopeful note in his 
voice.  "The Power Ranger is here on top.  It doesn't 
look any worse for the experience."
        The putout mother shot him a skeptical 
glance.  Pulling the doll from the stack, she took a 
closer look.  Nick watched her expression soften 
slightly as she saw that her son's much coveted toy 
was undamaged; however, she still seemed unwilling to 
forgive her assailant his awkwardness as she put the 
toy back and held out her arms for him to return the 
boxes to her.  "Well, consider yourself lucky it 
didn't break."
        Nick tried to make up for the trouble he'd 
caused her by offering his assistance.  "Can I get 
you a cart for these?"
        The lady shook her head.  "No.  I'm finished 
shopping.  I just want to get out of here.  Can I 
have my packages back?"  She emphasized the question 
with raised eyebrows.
        Nick tried again.  "Will you let me carry 
them to the check-out lane for you?"
        Looking up into Knight's still smiling face, 
the unfortunate customer once again shook her head 
while her voice continued to echo with irritation.  
"No.  I think you've done enough.  I just want my 
boxes so I can leave."
        "I truly am sorry for the inconvenience."  
Nick handed the unforgiving woman her toys.
        Pinning him with another peevish look, she 
turned on her heel and headed toward the front of the 
store, leaving Nick staring after her feeling utterly 
defeated.  There was just no pleasing some beings.  
Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered.  Closing 
his eyes, he pushed the negative thought from his 
mind.  Of course he knew why he bothered.
        With a shrug, he turned back to the shelves 
and resumed his search for the perfect gift, but his 
enthusiasm had abated.  It only took a couple of 
minutes for him to decide that he too wanted to get 
out of there.  He looked at his watch.  It was 
getting late anyway.  He needed to get to the 
station.  There was still a little time before 
Elliot's birthday.  He could continue looking 
tomorrow.  Slowly and carefully he moved through the 
crowd and made his way to the exit.

        Nick sat at the red light looking down at the 
radio.  He reached out to turn it on, but stopped the 
movement just as he touched the knob.  Once again he 
felt a familiar, gentle tug along the thread that 
would forever bind him to his master.  Tonight, 
however, he resisted the summons.  Even though the 
malice he felt for LaCroix had mellowed over the last 
several months, Nick was still determined to distance 
himself from the ancient vampire and the existence he 
represented.  However, the protege was finding it 
harder and harder to do these days.
        Things had happened in the detective's life 
over the months that had taken heavy tolls on his 
resolve.  He had worked through them, but not without 
feeling that resolve slip.  The sickness caused by 
his accidental infection with the disappointing 
attempt at an AIDS cure had made him wonder if death 
was the only type of mortality he would ever know.  
He'd felt his hope slip.  The demon possession had 
given a renewed strength to his desire for human 
blood, and the recent encounter with the VR game had 
taken that strengthened desire further by engaging 
him once more in the hunt and kill.  The exhilaration 
he'd experienced from the game had frightened and 
disturbed him.  He'd felt his will slip.  
        Nick closed his eyes against the frustration 
and chaos the recollections brought to the surface.  
He didn't want to be this thing anymore.  He didn't!

        The Nightcrawler turned down the microphone 
and started the music.  Sitting back in his chair, he 
closed his eyes, allowing every muscle in his body to 
relax.  The turmoil of his son's emotions and 
thoughts came to him slowly, and a contented smile 
curved his mouth.

 
        The light turned green, and the horn of the 
car behind him brought Nick's attention back to the 
road.  He shoved the tumultuous images from his mind.  
Taking his foot off the brake, he allowed the Caddy 
to resume the relatively short journey to the 
station.  Once there, he parked in front of the 96th 
Precinct building but remained in the car.  He knew 
Tracy would be waiting for him, but his thoughts had 
wandered back to the child whose upcoming celebration 
had been the catalyst for the night's minor fiasco at 
the toy store.
        Nick felt the tension from his uneasy 
thoughts leave him as the happy, young face of Elliot 
Simmons came to mind.  The soon-to-be six-year-old, 
along with his father and mother, had become very 
dear to the detective since their circumstantial 
meeting less than a year ago.  Elliot was an out-
going, energetic, inquisitive boy who looked up to 
Nick with all the uninhibited trust and enthusiasm 
only the innocence of a child would allow.  The 
vampire couldn't resist basking in Elliot's 
affection, even though the always-present inner voice 
told him that he didn't deserve it and should 
discourage the young mortal's ever growing devotion.  
But Jacob's son brought a joy and light to Nick's 
existence that he was not prepared to relinquish.
        The day he met the boy and his family was 
still very fresh in the immortal's mind.

***************************************************
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO     SEVERAL MONTHS EARLIER
***************************************************

        Nick was leaving the auditorium.  The first 
lecture of the series on the Ming dynasty of China 
had been excellent.  Professor Simmons had proven to 
be a wonderful instructor.  The vampire looked 
forward to the rest of the series.  He'd signed up 
for the bimonthly evening lectures to help satisfy 
his curiosity about Chinese history.  He had met 
Chinese people and learned the language, along with a 
few dialects, during time spent in San Francisco, but 
he'd never ventured to the country.  Over the course 
of his long life he had somehow never made it to 
China.  He would have to do that one of these days.  
He'd done some reading, but never was able to do as 
much as he would have liked.  When he'd read about 
the lecture series in the paper, it seemed a good 
opportunity to further his knowledge.  The arts and 
crafts from the Ming period had always enchanted and 
fascinated him, and he wanted to know more about the 
people and their story.
        The appeal of the lecture also stemmed from a 
desire to experience the classroom again.  It had 
been over 40 years since he'd been part of the 
education scene in any capacity, and even though his 
last experience had come to an abrupt, unpleasant 
end, he still thought it would be enjoyable to return 
for a while as a pupil.  He had delighted in the 
interaction between student and professor he'd 
witnessed earlier tonight, as questions were asked 
and then enthusiastically answered by Professor 
Simmons.  He hadn't realized how much he missed the 
process of teaching and learning until a couple of 
hours ago, and he was pleased with the decision he'd 
made to venture back into the world of education, if 
only for a short while.
        Natalie was another person who had been 
pleased with his decision.  When he'd told her he was 
considering taking the class, the smile that came to 
her face brought a satisfying warmth to his heart.  
Actually, he'd been very surprised by the spirited 
reaction his news brought.  She'd told him he needed 
to find some distraction outside of work, and the 
lectures would be perfect.  
        Nick recalled her other words as well. 
'You've been slowly distancing yourself from people 
since Schank's death, Nick.  And the obstacles you've 
faced lately haven't gone toward making you any more 
social either.  I know it's been hard, but you can't 
give up and wall yourself off from everything but the 
96th.  Participating in the mortal world means more 
than just working with us, Nick.  It means sharing 
the <whole> experience.  Meeting people and starting 
friendships is a big part of that experience and I 
think it's a part you've abandoned recently.'  She'd 
smiled then and stood up on her toes to plant a quick 
kiss on his cheek.  'I'm glad to see you're going to 
get back out and interact with humans more outside of 
being a cop.  It's a good sign.  I'm very proud of 
you, Mr. Knight.'  The delight on her face made him 
feel about ten feet tall, and it had taken all the 
restraint he'd possessed to keep from taking her in 
his arms and pursuing that kiss a little further.  
        A mischievous glint had come into Nat's eyes 
as she'd gone to the refrigerator and returned with 
one of her specialties.  'Now, if you'll try this new 
recipe I've concocted, <and> tell me it's the best 
thing you've tasted in, oh let's say, 767 years, I'll 
be an <extraordinarily> happy camper.'  
        Unfortunately, she had had to settle for 
being simply a happy camper that night.
        Nick descended the last few steps leading to 
the ground floor of the building.  He had the car 
keys out of his pocket and was about to push his way 
through the door when his attention was drawn by the 
sound of an accelerated heartbeat.  It was a familiar 
and unsettling sound, and it stopped him in his 
tracks.  He turned to find the hallway almost empty, 
save for two female coeds talking and laughing as 
they made their way down the corridor in the opposite 
direction, a janitor stopped at a closet refilling 
his cleaning cart with a few essentials, and a young 
boy standing by a water fountain.  Nick identified 
the disturbed pulse as belonging to the child and 
abandoned his departure.
        As he approached the small mortal, the 
vampire observed him more closely.  The youth looked 
to be about four or five years old.  His height and 
build were average for a boy his age.  The reddish 
blond hair was short and neat, and looked as though 
it had been cut recently.  He wore black sneakers, 
blue jeans and a heavy blue coat with a hood.  As 
Nick closed the distance between them, he also noted 
the light smattering of freckles that played across 
the child's fair nose and cheeks.  
        Noticing the man walking toward him, the boy 
looked up. Because of the youngster's coloring, the 
detective had expected to meet blue or maybe green 
eyes, but not the large, liquid brown that he saw.  
They were fringed with lashes long enough to make any 
woman envious, and Nick couldn't get over how 
beautiful they were.  Beautiful seemed an odd word to 
use to describe a male's features, yet it was the 
only word that came to mind.  He had to chuckle to 
himself as Bambi also popped into his head.  But, in 
addition to their beauty, the immortal also beheld 
the fear that lurked in the eyes that watched him 
draw near.  
        A friendly, reassuring smile softened Nick's 
features as he spoke to the child.  "Hi.  My name's 
Nick.  What's yours?"
        Dropping his gaze to stare down the hall, the 
youngster tried to ignore the man standing in front 
of him.  Nick squatted down closer to the child's 
level and tried again.  "I'm not going to hurt you.  
Won't you tell me your name?"
        The youth turned his attention back to the 
grown-up and shook his head.  "Mom told me not to 
talk to strangers."
        Reaching into a pocket, Nick pulled out his 
badge.  "Well, your Mom is very right.  Little boys 
shouldn't talk to people they don't know.  But I'm a 
police officer.  Don't you think it would be all 
right for you to talk to me?  See.  Here's my badge."  
He held out the wallet containing his ID for the 
child to see.  He knew the boy probably couldn't read 
it, but he hoped the youth might recognize a badge.  
        Large eyes got even larger as the young man 
reached out a hand to touch the piece of metal in the 
wallet.  "Wow.  Cool.  Can I hold it?"
         Nick's smile broadened. "Sure."  He handed 
the boy his identification.
        The child examined the badge for a second and 
then lifted his head.  Suspicion shadowed his face as 
he spoke.  "Hey.  If you're a real policeman, where's 
your police clothes?  And your hat?"
        Knight straightened as he considered the 
questions.  He wasn't sure if the child would 
completely grasp what a police detective was, but he 
would give it a try.  "I'm a detective.  Detectives 
don't have to wear a uniform.  We wear our own 
clothes."      

        The youngster's voice was slightly hushed and 
breathless with anticipation as he asked,  "A 
detective?  Does that mean you're undercover?"      
        Grinning at the wide-eyed look on the small 
face, Nick hesitated a moment before answering.  He 
hated to burst the boy's bubble, but this wasn't one 
of those police dramas on TV.  He shook his head.  
"No, I'm not undercover."  Nick watched the 
disappointment move across the freckled expression as 
he continued.   "It just means that all policeman 
don't do the same thing, and some of us don't have to 
wear a uniform. 
         "Aren't you good enough to have a uniform?" 
the child persisted.
          Nick, feeling a little out of his depth, 
sighed to himself.  //Maybe I should have just told 
him I was off duty.//  He then attempted to explain.  
"Well, it's not that.  It's just that I do a 
different kind of police job and don't need a 
uniform.  But I always carry my badge."
        A muttered, "Oh.  Okay," left the mortal as 
his attention was drawn once again to the object in 
his hand.  A small finger pointed to one side of the 
wallet.  "This is a picture of you, isn't it?  It 
doesn't really look a lot like you though, does it?"  
He looked back at Nick.  "Do you work at night or 
during the day?  My Dad works both sometimes.  Hey!  
Do you have a gun?  Are you going to school here?  I 
didn't know policemen had to go to school.  I'm going 
to kindergarten.  It's pretty fun.  Do you like going 
to school?"
        A cloud of bewilderment descended over Nick's 
mind for a moment as he stared into the angelic face 
of the youth.  Just when did he lose control of this 
conversation?  The boy's apparent trust and curiosity 
pleased him, but he still didn't know the child's 
name, for goodness sake.  Ignoring the barrage of 
questions for the time being, he tried to get some of 
his own answered.  He smiled and knelt back down on 
one knee.  "Hold your horses, little man.  You know 
something about me already, but I don't know anything 
about you.  Please tell me your name and why you're 
down here by yourself." 
         "My name's Elliot.  Elliot Simmons," was the 
reply as the lad handed the policeman back his 
wallet.
        The detective held out his hand, and the 
young Mr. Simmons took it while the smile on his 
charming face grew wider.  Nick shook the small hand 
and again introduced himself.  "Well, Elliot Simmons, 
it's a pleasure to meet you.  I'm Nick Knight."
        Elliot looked down at the large, pale hand 
that held his and then up into the face of his new 
acquaintance.  His expression was suddenly very 
serious.  "You need to get some gloves, Nick.  Your 
hands are really cold.  Mom always makes me wear 'em.  
See."  He pulled a pair of red mittens out of a coat 
pocket and then pushed them back into the hole.  "She 
doesn't want me to get the flu or anything.  I hope 
you don't get the flu."
         Nick's smile disappeared as he too looked at 
their coupled hands, and struggled to subdue the 
feeling of isolation that moved over him as a result 
of the child's outspoken, innocent words.  Sometimes 
the simplest things brought the feeling to the 
surface, but he refused to let it over take him 
tonight.  There were gloves in his pocket, but he 
chose to ignore them and let the boy's reasoning 
stand.  He only wore them for appearance sake, and 
didn't want to make an issue of having them.  
        Releasing Elliot's hand, he got back to his 
feet.  The child's concern for his health touched 
him, and his smile returned.  "Yeah.  I know.  I'll 
have to get some.  But don't you worry about me.  I 
don't get sick."  He returned the badge to his blazer 
and then buried his hands in the pockets of his long, 
black coat.  "Now, for the next question.  Why are 
you down here by yourself?  Are your parents here 
anywhere?"
        Master Simmons pointed to the staircase.  
"Well, Mom was talking to some people, so I went 
exploring.  I found these stairs and went down 'em.  
But, now I can't remember how many I need to go back 
up to find Mom and Dad."  The young voice cracked 
with the last word, and Nick knew Elliot was once 
again becoming frightened.  Doe-like eyes were 
suddenly wet with unshed tears as they gazed up at 
the vampire.
        The sight tugged at Nick's heart, and a 
fierce desire to protect and comfort the small 
wanderer came surging forward.  He was quickly back 
on one knee.  Putting a consoling arm around Elliot's 
shoulders, he tried to reassure the child.  "It's 
okay, Elliot.  I'll help you find your parents.  Your 
Dad teaches here, doesn't he?"  The youngster 
silently nodded his head.  Nick wasn't sure why it 
didn't click as soon as he heard the boy say his last 
name, but he knew that Elliot's father and the 
professor whose class he'd just left were one and the 
same.  Getting the family back together wouldn't be 
too difficult a task.  Professor Simmons and his wife 
more than likely had missed their son by now, and 
were probably looking for him at this very moment.  
"All right, then.  I have an idea where we can find 
your parents.  How about coming with me?"  Nick stood 
up and held out a hand.  Without a second's 
hesitation, Elliot took it, and they made their way 
up the stairs to the third floor of the building.
        Nick and his charge walked hand in hand down 
the hall toward the classroom in which he had, less 
than thirty minutes ago, sat and enjoyed his first 
lecture.  But before they reached the room, the pair 
was stopped by a relieved, tearful cry of the boy's 
name coming from behind them.  They turned to see a 
woman, her arms held open wide, walking very quickly 
toward them.  Elliot looked up at Nick and smiled.  
"That's my Mom."  The immortal couldn't help the 
short laugh that escaped him at the youth's statement 
of the obvious.  Releasing the small hand, Nick 
silently looked on as Elliot walked into the waiting 
arms of his mother.
        With a healthy satisfaction, the detective 
watched Mrs. Simmons kneel down and give her wayward 
son a bear hug.  Then, after a moment or two, she 
pulled Elliot away from her to look into his face.  
The relief and joy her expression had held only a 
moment ago turned to concern and irritation, as she 
tried to express to the child that what he had done 
was <not> a good thing.  "Elliot, how many times have 
I got to tell you not to wander off?  You scared the 
life out of me and your father.  You know better than 
to go off on your own, young man.  You could get 
hurt.  What if we couldn't find you?  Please <don't> 
do that again."
        Detective Knight walked up behind the small 
explorer as the lad apologized to his distraught 
parent.  "I'm sorry, Mom.  I got lost while I was 
looking around.  I've never been in this building 
before."  Elliot looked over his shoulder at Nick, 
and then back to his mother.   "Nick found me.  I got 
scared, and he said he'd help me find you.  He's a 
policeman, a detective, and he's real nice.  He let 
me see his badge.  It was neat."  He turned to the 
vampire again.  "Nick, can Mom see your badge?  I bet 
she'll think it's cool too."
        Mrs. Simmons straightened her just over five-
foot, slender frame and faced the man who had 
returned her son to her.  Nick now knew where Elliot 
had gotten his beautiful eyes.  The woman looked at 
him with the same large, liquid-brown gaze that her 
son had.  Unlike the boy, her hair was brown and fell 
just around her shoulders in a soft wave.  Her lovely 
heart-shaped face held an expression of thanks along 
with a hint of suspicion.  She was grateful for her 
son's safe return, but she also wanted to see the 
proof that Nick really was what he'd told her son he 
was.  It was totally understandable, and he reached 
in his pocket for the confirmation of his claim.        
        As he held out the ID, Nick introduced 
himself to the concerned mother.  "I'm Metro 
Detective Nick Knight, Mrs. Simmons.  I'm pleased to 
meet you."
        The lady looked carefully at the credentials 
and then raised a smiling face to her son's rescuer.  
"I'm Elizabeth Simmons, Detective Knight."  Nick 
shook the offered hand as she went on.   "I can't 
thank you enough for what you've done.  We've been 
running around here frantically for almost half an 
hour trying to find Elliot.  He and I came to pick 
his father up after the evening class.  We got here a 
little early.  I ran into some friends and got to 
talking, and the next thing I know, I look around and 
my son's nowhere to be seen.  We've been up and down 
those stairs at least three times.  I don't know how 
we could have missed him.  I'm so relieved that you 
were able to help him find his way back.  Thank you 
so very much.  Where was he?"
        Nick put a hand on the child's head, and 
playfully mused the red-blond hair.  "The little 
investigator here had made his way down to the ground 
floor hallway, where I noticed that he looked a 
little upset and out of place.  He told me his name 
and that his father was a teacher.  I'd just come 
from Professor Simmons' lecture on the Ming dynasty, 
so here we are."
        Elliot flashed his deliverer a smile and 
looked back to his mother.  "Nick's real smart, Mom.  
He knew right where to go to find you.  He must be a 
real good policeman."
        Elizabeth Simmons nodded as her gaze moved 
from her son to Nick, happiness and appreciation 
shining in her eyes.  "Yes, Elliot.  He must be a 
real good policeman.  Thank you."
        At that moment Nick noticed Professor Simmons 
coming around a corner.  The mortal spotted the small 
group and shouted, "Elliot?"  He all but ran to them 
and scooped the boy up in his arms.  He pulled the 
small wanderer close in a hug, very similar to the 
one his wife had bestowed on their son not ten 
minutes earlier.  "Are you all right?  Where have you 
been?  You had us worried sick."    Moving his arms 
from around his father's neck, Elliot leaned back a 
fraction to look into the adult's face.  "I'm sorry, 
Dad.  I went exploring and couldn't find my way back.  
But, Nick...."  He looked around, pointed at the 
blond man and then turned back to his father.  
"That's Nick.  He's a policeman and my new friend.  
He helped me."
        Warmed by the boy's reference to him as a 
friend, Nick stepped forward as he was acknowledged.  
The relieved father held his son in one arm as he 
shook the vampire's hand.   Mrs. Simmons made the 
introduction.  "Jacob, this is Detective Nick Knight 
from the Metro police.  We have him to thank for 
Elliot's safe return.  Detective, this is my husband, 
Jacob Simmons."
        "Well, it sure is a pleasure to meet you, 
Nick.  Looks like you're our blessing for the day.  
Thank you very much for your help."  As Professor 
Simmons released the detective's hand, he paused for 
a second and then turned puzzled eyes to his wife.  
"Police?  Did you call the police?"  He looked back 
at Nick and smiled.  "Boy, you guys work fast."
        The next few minutes were spent explaining 
the circumstances surrounding Elliot's discovery to 
his slightly confused, but very happy father.  
        When Nick and Elizabeth had finished the 
story, Jacob looked at the officer and nodded his 
head.  "I thought you looked a little familiar.  
Well, what did you think of the first class?"
        Before Nick could answer, Elliot tapped his 
father on the shoulder and whispered, "Dad, can I 
please get down now?"
        Nick looked on with a subtle mixture of 
longing and envy as Professor Simmons smiled at his 
son and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  Jacob then 
turned his head slightly and presented his cheek to 
the boy, who took his father's face in his hands and 
gave his parent a very enthusiastic peck in return.  
The child's face beamed, and Jacob planted another 
quick kiss on the end of his son's nose.  However, 
the professor's expression became serious and his 
voice stern as he gave his permission.  "Okay.  But 
you stick <very> close.  Understood?"  Still smiling 
from ear to ear, Elliot bobbed his head up and down 
in agreement.  Once on the ground, the young, would-
be Columbus walked over and took his mother's out-
stretched hand, settling in beside her.    
        As the scene played out, Nick became more 
aware of just how loved this small mortal was by the 
two people who had brought him into the world, and 
how much the boy returned that love.  The vampire 
yearned for the type of closeness the three shared, 
and as he stared at the picture of mother and son, 
Natalie entered his thoughts.  Her beautiful face 
drifted into his mind's eye and the desire for 
something that he was slowly beginning to believe 
could never be, burned even brighter.  He'd always 
envied Schanke his wife and daughter, but as Nick 
looked at the smaller version of Jacob standing by 
his mother, he envied Professor Simmons even more.  
Having a son was the want of many a man, and he knew 
that he was no different in that respect.  Nat as his 
wife, their son and the love that could be shared by 
them represented the ultimate achievement.
        But regaining the mortality that would allow 
for the opportunity of that achievement seemed more 
of an impossibility than ever.  Since Schanke's 
death, the doubts he'd had about his ability and 
desire to become human again had grown.  Losing his 
friend and partner had almost driven him from 
Toronto, Nat and their work.  The hope he'd allowed 
himself with Marion Blackwing had been tragically 
dashed, and looking back on it now, he realized he'd 
only been kidding himself.  With LaCroix's help, he 
had regained his memory and an old kind of closeness 
with his master that surprised him.  Listening to the 
elder talk about their life together, and seeing the 
deep emotion on his face as he spoke, had touched 
Nick in a way he had not expected.  The hostility he 
felt for the ancient vampire had cooled, and with it, 
some of the intense desire to break free and push his 
immortal father away.  
        LaCroix's help in ridding him of the demon 
had also gone toward a renewed harmony between the 
two.  The event had also served to intensify that 
part of Nick's nature he so desperately tried to keep 
under control.  The craving for human blood.  The 
encounter had been a major setback that he was still 
finding difficult to completely overcome.  As a 
result, the draw of the vampire had become stronger, 
and there'd been a time or two when he had found 
himself at the Raven longing for Janette and the 
relief and comfort she afforded him.  Thoughts of, 
and guilt over, Nat had sent him back to the loft, 
but they never seemed to be enough to completely 
stifle the need.  He felt his belief in the goal of 
mortality slowly trickling away, and seemed powerless 
to stop the retreat.  This venture back to school 
made Nat happy, and she saw it as a positive sign, 
but Nick wondered if it would really have much of an 
effect on his outlook.
        Nick's focus moved from Elliot to Jacob, and, 
for the first time, he recognized the great 
resemblance between father and son.  Except for the 
eyes (Jacob's were a hazel color) and the adult's 
just-under-six-foot height, the two mortals were very 
similar in every other feature.  Even the 
tortoiseshell glasses that the professor wore didn't 
detract from the obvious likeness, and the detective 
pondered what it would be like to have a miniature 
version of himself to nurture and love.  A son to 
return that love.

        His attention was drawn back to Jacob as he 
repeated his question.  "What did you think of the 
first class, Nick?  Did you enjoy it?  Chinese 
history is one of my favorite subjects, and I'm 
really looking forward to teaching this class.  I 
hope everyone has fun learning about the fascinating 
series of events as much as I'm going to love talking 
about them."  In addition to his words, the 
excitement in Jacob's voice and expression did much 
to convince Nick just how enthusiastic the professor 
was about his teaching.  He'd witnessed this spirit 
in the classroom, but listening to Simmons talk about 
his work now made his passion for the job much more 
apparent.
        Nick happily anticipated the rest of the 
series.  "Oh, I found the first lecture very 
informative and completely enjoyable.  I think I'm 
looking forward to hearing the rest of them almost as 
much as you're looking forward to teaching them."
        Jacob pushed his unruly glasses up on his 
nose as his smile widened.  "Well, I'm glad to hear 
it.  It's a pleasure teaching enthusiastic students."
        "I found the background to the establishment 
of the Ming very interesting.  The Yuan never should 
have underestimated the power of angry peasants.  
Rebellion has toppled many a government.  But, 
Chinese history evolves around the fall of one 
dynasty and the rise of another, so it was 
inevitable, I guess.  Nothing lasts forever."  As he 
said the last word, Nick sneered to himself, //Well, 
almost nothing.// 
        The detective's statement seemed to pique 
Jacob's interest.  "But doesn't China, as a whole, 
come awfully close?  I mean, it's the oldest 
established civilization in the world.  From 
prehistoric time to the present is a pretty long 
time.  Wouldn't you agree?"
        Nodding, Nick opened his mouth to accept what 
the professor had said, but was cut short as 
Elizabeth stepped forward.  "Okay, guys.  It's 
getting kind of late, and Elliot needs to get to bed.  
Can you continue this discussion at home, please?"  
Her gaze fell meaningfully on her husband.
        Simmons looked at Nick.  "How about it?  Are 
you up for some coffee and further delving into 
history?  Coffee is the least we can do after what 
you've done for us."
        Nick was about to say no, but stopped short.  
He again recalled the joy on Natalie's precious face 
when he'd told her about his school plans.  She was 
right, of course.  Recent occurrences had reinforced 
the wariness he felt about getting too close to 
mortals, but he needed to make the effort to overcome 
the feeling.  If he could master the fear, it might 
brighten the fading belief in his goal.  Although 
he'd only just met Jacob and his family, he already 
liked and felt comfortable with them.  He very much 
wanted to visit their home and continue his talk with 
the professor.  
        Nick looked down at Elliot, who was smiling 
up at him and nodding his head in encouragement, and 
was delighted by the sight.  The boy had quickly 
endeared himself to the detective, and his silent 
urging made the decision suddenly very easy.   Nick 
had the night off, and he decided not to deny 
himself.  He turned back to Jacob.  "Well, I'll have 
to pass on the coffee.  I'm on this special diet.  
But I'm certainly up for the delving."
        The agreement was met with a smile and a 
single clap of Jacob's hands.  "Great!"  Simmons then 
addressed his wife.  "We're parked in the lot.  
Right?"
        Smiling, Elizabeth nodded.  "Yes."  She 
turned to Nick.  "It's a gray Ford Tempo. Four door.  
We'll point it out to you, and you can follow us.  
The house really isn't very far.  We walk when the 
weather's nice, but it's so cold now."

        Nick pulled into the drive behind the gray 
car.  As promised, it had been a short drive.  Not 
too much further than right around the corner.  
        The detective got out and stood by his Caddy 
as the Simmons family piled out of their car.  As 
soon as his feet hit the ground, Elliot ran up to 
Nick.  "Wow!  Neat car!  Can I ride in it with the 
top down?"
        Detective Knight squatted in front of the 
smiling child.  "When the weather gets warmer, I'll 
take you for a drive one evening.  How's that?"
        "Cool," was the answer as Nick straightened, 
and Jacob and Elizabeth walked up behind their son.
        The boy's mother held out her hand.  "Come 
on, young man.  You need a bath and some sleep."
        "Oh, Mom."  Elliot's smile disappeared and a 
disappointed frown took its place as he begged his 
case.  "It's not very late.  Can't I stay up a little 
longer with Dad and Nick?  Please?"
        But Mrs. Simmons would not be persuaded.  
"It's almost nine-thirty.  Well past your bedtime.  
You have school tomorrow.  You can come back down 
after you get ready for bed and say good-night.  Now, 
let's get inside.  It's freezing out here."
        The youth turned pleading eyes to his father 
who shook his head.  "Don't look at me.  You know the 
rules.  Mom has spoken."     
        A look of resignation settled over Elliot's 
expression as he reluctantly accepted his parents' 
decree.  "Okay."  He took his mother's hand, and they 
started up the short flight of stairs leading to the 
front of the house.  The child stopped on the top 
step and looked back at Nick.  "You won't leave 
before I can say good-night, will ya?"
        The concern on the young face moved the 
vampire greatly.  That this small mortal should look 
up to him so quickly, surprised and flattered him.  
"No, I won't leave.  I'll be here when you're ready."  
Nick smiled his reassurance.  
        Elliot nodded, satisfied with the answer, and 
continued into the house with his mother.
        Jacob watched his wife and son enter their 
home, and then turned back to Nick.  "He's taken 
quite a shine to you.  Thanks again for all your 
help."
        Nick's smiling eyes moved from the closed 
door of the house to his host.  "I've taken a shine 
to him too.  He's a great kid.  And helping him find 
his way back was my pleasure.  I'm just glad I 
<could> help."
        Simmons eyed the Caddy.  "Nice Cadillac.  
What year is it?"
        "Sixty-two," was the response.
        "It's in great shape.  You take good care of 
it."  Jacob ran an admiring hand down the hood.
        "Thanks.  I do my best."  Nick was gratified 
by the mortal's appreciation.
        The professor raised his admiring eyes from 
the car and looked at Nick, a guilty frown turning 
his mouth.  "I'm sorry.  I'm being an awful host.  
Keeping you out here in the cold.  Let's go inside."
        "Not at all."  The detective shook his head.  
"I certainly don't mind it when people admire the 
Caddy."
        "Well, it is a nice car.  Shall we go in the 
house?"  Jacob started up the stairs and Nick 
followed him toward the small, but comfortable-
looking home.
        The driveway was located on the left side of 
the two-story dwelling.  The small stoop that the two 
men climbed went to a short sidewalk that extended 
straight a few feet and then curved to the left.  It 
stopped at a four-step staircase going up onto a 
small porch that extended the length of the house.  
Nick noticed a swing that hung from the ceiling as it 
swayed ever so slowly in the winter breeze.  It 
brought to mind cool, summer evenings, and as he 
imagined the Simmons family settled on the swing 
enjoying a glass of lemonade, the twinge of envy 
returned. 
        Jacob opened the door, and he and Nick 
stepped into a tiny foyer.  To the left, about ten 
feet from the door, was a staircase to the second 
floor.  Directly in front of them was a small hallway 
that led into the kitchen, and to the right a doorway 
opened into the living room.  
        Jacob closed the door.  "Welcome to my home.  
Can I take your coat?"  He pulled off his gray, down 
jacket, hung it on a coat rack that occupied a corner 
by the door and held out his hand to Nick.
        Slipping out of his long, black garment, Nick 
handed it to his host.  "Thanks for inviting me."
        "It's our pleasure."  Jacob looked down the 
hall into the kitchen.  "Beth?"
        There was silence for a moment, and then the 
sound of footsteps on the ceiling.  Elizabeth 
appeared at the top of the staircase holding a bath 
towel.  Her expression revealed the smallest degree 
of irritation, but she forced a smile as she looked 
down on her husband and their visitor.  The green 
sweater she wore now had several large, dark 
splotches on it that looked like wet spots.   "Yes?"
        The professor read his wife's annoyance 
immediately.  "What's wrong?"
        Mrs. Simmons sighed.  "Your son is a little 
hyped tonight.  We seem to be having a difficult time 
keeping the water in the tub."
        Nick couldn't stop the grin.  He covered it 
with his hand while he watched Jacob shake his head, 
look down at the floor and then back to his wife.  
"Do you want me to give you a hand?"
        "No."  Elizabeth declined the offer.  "I've 
got things under control.  Can you fix the coffee?  
We should be done in a few minutes.  I can hardly 
keep him in the tub, he's so anxious to get 
downstairs to see Nick."  She flashed the detective a 
warm smile.  "You've made a fast friend."  With that, 
she disappeared down the upstairs hall.
        Jacob turned to Nick and motioned toward the 
living room.   "Have a seat.  I'll get the coffee 
started.  It'll only take a minute."
        Simmons headed for the kitchen, and Nick 
entered the living room.  It was a cozy little space 
with a fireplace that took up almost the entire far 
wall.  There was no fire glowing in it now, but upon 
seeing the large amount of ash, the detective guessed 
it got a pretty good workout this time of year.  A 
large, oval, braided rug covered most of the hardwood 
floor, and a hodge podge of furniture filled the room 
nicely.  Nick recognized a couple of what he thought 
were antiques mixed in with various styles from 
several other more modern periods.  Nothing looked 
anywhere close to being new, but everything appeared 
in good condition and comfortable.  A teacher, 
university or no, didn't make a great deal of money, 
and the young couple, Nick guessed them both to be in 
their early thirties, had obviously gathered the 
collection over their few years together.  He smiled 
as his eyes scanned the area.  He liked it.
        He was settling into a wingback chair by the 
fireplace when Jacob entered.  "Coffee'll be ready in 
a couple of minutes."  Simmons rubbed his hands 
together.   "Are you cold?  I think I'll start a 
fire.  I'll just run and get some wood from the back 
porch." And the mortal was gone again.
        Just then, Nick heard what could have been a 
herd of elephants running across the ceiling.  The 
stampede made its way to the stairs and bounded down 
them in the form of Elliot.  The detective's smile 
was automatic as he watched the child gallop into the 
room.  The boy wore flannel sleepers and his hair was 
still damp from his bath.  He stopped a few feet 
short of Nick, his face bright with pleasure at the 
sight of his new friend.  "Hi."
        Elizabeth, who had followed her energetic 
son, stood in the doorway as Nick returned the 
greeting.  "Hi.  Hey, I like those PJ's."  He pointed 
to the child's covered feet.
        Elliot looked down as he wiggled his toes and 
then raised his gaze.  "Thanks.  They're really warm, 
and they got neat dinosaurs on 'em."  He pulled his 
shirt away from his chest so his new friend could get 
a closer look.
        Nick leaned forward in his chair.  "Oh?  So 
that's what those are."  
        He stood, and his amused eyes traveled from 
the boy to Mrs. Simmons as she walked into the room 
and up beside her son.  She motioned for her guest to 
sit down.   "You don't have to get up on my account, 
Nick."  She took a quick look around the room.  "Are 
you alone down here?  Surely Jacob couldn't still be 
making coffee?"
        "No."  Detective Knight shook his head.  "He 
went out to get some wood for a fire.  He's only been 
gone a couple of minutes."
        Just as Nick finished the last word, 
everyone's attention was drawn to the doorway to see 
Professor Simmons walk in with several pieces of wood 
in his arms.  He moved past his wife and son and 
placed the logs on the grate.  "Now we should be able 
to warm things up a little."  He turned a satisfied 
expression to the others in the room.
        "Jacob, did you get the coffee started?"  
Simmons nodded, and his wife continued.  "Well, while 
you get the fire going, I'll bring it in." She looked 
down at Elliot.  "You need to say your good-nights, 
young man.  When I get back with the coffee, it'll be 
bedtime for you."
        The earlier disappointment returned to the 
freckled face.  "Oh, Mom.  I..."
        Mrs. Simmons held up a hand, and her son fell 
silent.  "Don't 'oh Mom' me.  We've been through this 
already."  She smiled and bent to place a kiss on the 
top of Elliot's head.  "Now, say your good-nights and 
I'll tuck you in after I get back."  She left to 
retrieve the coffee.
        Jacob walked up to the youngster and held out 
his arms.  "Okay, Sport, give us a hug."
        Elliot held up his arms, and his father 
picked him up.  The scene was almost identical to the 
one Nick had witnessed at the university earlier that 
night as father and son embraced, and he again felt 
the longing.  
        After they had exchanged kisses, Professor 
Simmons lowered his son back to the floor, and the 
youth walked over to Nick.  "Good-night, Nick."  
        The vampire was caught off guard as Elliot 
again held up his arms, indicating that he wanted to 
be picked up.  Nick obliged his small friend and was 
rewarded by a fervent hug around his neck.  As the 
child held on, the immortal's arms moved around the 
small, warm body and returned the embrace.  He closed 
his eyes, relishing the closeness, before Elliot 
moved away.  He sat back in the grown-up's arms 
smiling, and then leaned forward to place a quick 
kiss on a pale cheek.  The gesture again took Nick 
aback, but it also served to deepen the fondness he 
already felt for the boy.  He returned the kiss as 
Elizabeth entered the room carrying a tray.  
        She set it down on the coffee table and 
smiled at the picture of her son in the arms of their 
new friend.  "Have you finished saying good-night?"
        Elliot, finally showing some sign of fatigue, 
put a hand up to cover a yawn as he answered.  "Yeah, 
Mom."       
        Walking over to the pair, Elizabeth held out 
her arms.  "Okay, then.  Let's go up and I'll tuck 
you in."
        The child went to his mother who playfully 
protested the extra weight.  "Oh my, Elliot.  You're 
getting so big.  Soon I won't be able to pick you up 
at all."  She smiled at Nick and carried her son from 
the room.
        When she reached the bottom of the steps, she 
stopped.  "How about I put you down and you get 
upstairs under your own steam?"  She hadn't finished 
the question before Elliot's feet touched the first 
step.  Nick watched with delight as Elizabeth took 
her son's hand, and they started up the stairs.  The 
boy glanced over at Nick and waved as he and his 
mother reached the top.  The detective waved back, 
and mother and son disappeared from view.
        Jacob, who had silently, and with a great 
deal of enjoyment, watched the interaction between 
his son and Detective Knight, patted the blond man on 
the back.  "How about some coffee?"
        Turning his attention back to his host, Nick 
shook his head.  "No, Jacob, thank you.  I'm on a 
special liquid diet, but coffee's not one of the 
liquids."
        "Tea?" asked the professor.
        "No.  Nothing."  Nick again refused the 
offer.  "The conversation will do me just fine."
        "Okay," Simmons relented.  "But you don't 
know what you're missing.  Even Beth admits to my 
great coffee making."  He indicated the wingback 
chair and Nick sat back down.  
        Jacob started to take a seat on the couch, 
but stopped and snapped his fingers as a realization 
crossed his face.  He strolled over to a modest 
radio/cassette player sitting on a bookshelf across 
the room and started a tape.  Nick leaned back and 
closed his eyes as the low, gentle tones of 
Beethoven's Klavierstuck in A Minor-Fur Elise floated 
through the air. Contentment curved his mouth.
        Turning in time to see his guest's reaction 
to the music, Simmons nodded as he walked back to the 
couch.  "My sentiments exactly.  This is the greatest 
music in the world."  He sat down and poured himself 
a mug of coffee before starting the fire.
        After getting Elliot settled down, Elizabeth 
joined them.  The rest of the night was spent in 
conversations ranging from the composer of the music 
that played in the background to the immortality of 
the Chinese culture.  Through this interaction, Nick 
discovered that Elizabeth was also a professor of 
history and had taken the last five years off to have 
and raise her son.  As a result of this collection of 
knowledge, the discussions got fairly in-depth, and 
the vampire found himself completely enthralled.  
Nick's knowledge of archeology slipped through 
several times, and Jacob was fascinated.  He confided 
a desire to excavate an Egyptian tomb some day, and 
his wife laughed, telling him that he had to excavate 
the attic before venturing to any foreign territory.  
The evening passed quickly, and it was well after 
midnight before Nick finally made his way back to the 
loft.  He had found the whole experience thoroughly 
exhilarating and enjoyable.    

*******************************************

        Knight blinked as he cleared his mind of the 
memory.  That night had resulted in friendship with a 
mortal and his family that Nick hadn't known himself 
capable of having.  It was different from the 
friendship he'd had with Schanke.  Nothing could 
compare to the closeness two people shared when they 
were partnered in police work, and although he and 
Schank had started their days working together on 
rocky footing, they quickly became a good team and 
very good friends.  He still felt the sharp pain of 
loss from his partner's death.  Nick would never 
forget him.  
        But their relationship had never gone too 
much further than the work environment.  There had 
been the short time he'd allowed Don to stay at the 
loft after he walked out on his wife, and the few 
times they had given each other rides to work, but as 
a whole they had spent little time together when they 
were off duty.  Nick had very seldom seen Myra or 
Jenny.  Schanke had had his bowling buddies, and the 
immortal was the proverbial square peg in a round 
hole when it came to the circles Schank moved in 
outside of the job.  Jacob, on the other hand, shared 
several personal interests with Nick, and they had 
grown close over the last several months. Nick had 
come to value the companionship of the professor and 
his family very much.  
        The inner voice again nagged the vampire's 
unworthiness of the relationship, but he forced it 
into silence.  He got out of the car and started into 
the building.

        Tracy Vetter looked at the computer screen.  
She and her partner were supposed to be catching up 
on the follow-ups of several arrest reports, but once 
again Nick was nowhere to be found.  She looked at 
her watch.  It was nine forty.  He could at least 
call and let her know he would be late.  She glanced 
over at the captain's door.  Reese would walk out of 
his office any minute wanting to know where Knight 
was, and, as usual, she wouldn't be able to tell him.  
Then she would have to sit and listen to yet another 
lecture on the definition of 'partner'.  //Come on, 
Nick.  I don't want to hear it <again>.//  She looked 
at the door to the squad room and willed him to walk 
through it, but of course she was disappointed. 
        She set her sights back on the computer.  
After only a couple of minutes, the words on the 
screen started to blur as she looked through them and 
her mind wandered back to her absent partner.  
Nicholas Knight's reputation as one of the best cops 
on the force made him famous throughout the 
department, and from her first day at the academy, 
she'd heard stories about the brave, not too bad-
looking, detective.  She'd even heard her father, the 
police commissioner, praise him a couple of times, 
and that in itself had made the biggest impression.  
Detective Knight was good--very good.  So when she'd 
found out she would have a chance to work with him, 
she'd been more than a little excited by the 
opportunity.  The fact that Reese was obviously going 
out of his way to shield her because of who she was 
didn't bother her too much.  If it gave her the 
opportunity to work with and learn from the famous 
Nick Knight, she wouldn't complain.  She would just 
have to prove herself once again.
        As she had expected, Nick turned out to be a 
terrific partner.  She'd learned a great deal from 
him, and he'd saved her butt more than once.  But 
above all else, he respected her and her abilities as 
a police officer, and that was what made their 
association work.  The mutual respect.  She really 
couldn't have asked for a better partner.  Well, 
almost.
         Stealing another glance at her watch, Tracy 
let out a short, frustrated sigh.  Nick did, after 
all, have his faults.  Those stories of bravery she'd 
heard as a cadet and later as a rookie had been 
accompanied by tales of Detective Knight's little 
eccentricities.  He was infamous for being a little 
on the odd side.  The whispers hadn't deterred her 
enthusiasm, however.  A lot of exceptional people 
were a little on the odd side.  It made life more 
interesting.  But along with the engaging aspect of 
working with Knight also came the frustrating part.  
The first thing Tracy remembered hearing about Nick 
was that he worked alone.  He had requested to be by 
himself, and amazingly, the department agreed to his 
request.  Cops, even homicide cops, had partners.  
Back-up was one of the things that kept officers 
alive.  That the department had let him work alone 
was very unusual indeed.  And even though he had 
worked with Schanke for the last several years, he 
was still very independent when it came to the job.  
At his core, he was a mysterious loner and his 
independence was a source of agitation for those who 
tried to work closely with him.  His moodiness didn't 
make life any easier, either.  
        A smirk tugged at the corners of Tracy's 
mouth as she pondered,  //I bet swapping 'Nick' 
stories with Don Schanke would have been an 
<extremely> interesting exercise.//   She was sure 
there had been times when he felt as aggravated with 
Nick as she did.  
        The grin faded, and a frown creased her brow 
as she thought about the dead detective.  Donald 
Schanke had been a much-loved member of the 
department, and his loss was still felt by everyone, 
but no more acutely than by her partner.  Nick never 
opened up about anything, much less his feelings over 
his friend's death, but his devastation had been 
obvious.  She closed her eyes against the feeling of 
dread the memory conjured up.  Tracy recalled the 
unbearable anguish she'd felt when she had been told 
Nick died as a result of the gunshot wound to his 
head.  The short time she'd had to endure the misery 
had been more than enough.  She couldn't imagine 
living with it from day to day.  Pain like that 
lessened with time, she knew, but it never completely 
faded away.   She had come as close to losing a 
partner as she ever wanted to come.
        Throughout the time she'd worked with Nick, 
Tracy had never known him to mention anyone that she 
would have interpreted as a friend, other than 
Schanke.  She'd come to believe that he had no close 
friends, except of course for Natalie, and everyone 
knew, even if they didn't seem to themselves, that 
Nick and Natalie were much more than close friends.  
But, aside from Nat, it appeared that Tracy's partner 
had no one, and this had confirmed the young 
detective's view of him as a loner.
         So she'd been both surprised and pleased 
when, a few months after the plane crash, it became 
evident that Nick had made a new friend.  He'd 
mentioned Jacob's name in passing a couple of times, 
and when she'd asked who he was, Knight told her only 
that Simmons was the professor teaching the class he 
was taking.  However, it soon became apparent that 
Professor Simmons meant more to Nick than just the 
teacher of a lecture.  The evening Jacob and his son, 
Elliot, stopped by the precinct had been the only 
time Tracy witnessed Nick in the presence of the 
father and son, but it had been more than enough to 
show her just how close Knight had become to both of 
them.  She'd never pictured her partner as the 
'uncle' type, but seeing him interact with Elliot 
made her admit that not only would he make someone a 
good uncle, but he probably wouldn't make a shabby 
dad either.  She remembered feeling fairly astonished 
by the realization.                        
        Tracy took a third look at her watch as a 
thought dawned on her.  Nick was probably out looking 
for the gift.  She'd never seen him so concerned 
about something as simple as a birthday present--for 
a six-year-old, no less.   A few days ago he asked 
her for some ideas, but hadn't seemed too thrilled by 
any of her suggestions.  //He knows this kid better 
than I do.  Surely he can come up with <something> 
Elliot will like.  How hard can it be?//  But she had 
to admit, when looking for a gift for a special 
person, sometimes <nothing> ever seemed to be the 
right thing, and Elliot Simmons was definitely a 
special person in Nick Knight's life.
        The opening of Captain Reese's door 
interrupted Tracy's train of thought.  Her boss 
stepped out of the office and quickly scanned the 
squad room before his eyes settled first on Nick's 
empty chair and then on Tracy.  The scowl on his face 
spoke volumes, and the rookie detective braced 
herself for the irritated speech she was certain she 
was about to hear.  //Why is it that Nick seems to be 
the cause of most of these little talks, but he's 
never around to hear any of them?//  She forced a 
bright smile in an effort to soothe the annoyed 
tension as Reese walked up to the desk she and Nick 
shared.  But her smile didn't appear to be having the 
desired effect.  The sour look on her superior's face 
hadn't softened.  
        Captain Reese popped an antacid into his 
mouth before addressing his employee.  "Where's your 
partner, Detective Vetter?  You two are supposed to 
be catching up on some paperwork.  <Together.>  You 
know what together means, don't you, detective?"
        Tracy shifted uncomfortably in her chair.  
The smile still played on her face, but happy was the 
last thing she felt at the moment.  //Damn you, 
Nick.//  She would cover for him, of course.  
Sometimes she didn't know why, but she would always 
cover for him.  He was her partner.  It was almost a 
reflex action.  Choosing to ignore the last question, 
she responded, "Ah, Captain, I don't know where Nick 
is right now, but I'm sure he'll be here any minute.  
He probably just lost track of the time."  She 
groaned inwardly.  //Wonderful, Vetter.  How lame was 
that?//  Her eyes moved from Reese to the squad room 
door, and she said a silent thank you to the Almighty 
as she saw her tardy partner stroll into the room.  
//It's about time!//  She watched Nick make his way 
over to the desk.  He looked a little distracted, but 
that seemed to be a constant state for him lately.
        The captain, noticing Tracy's distraction and 
the relieved look on her face, turned to see his best 
detective join them at the table.  Nick moved around 
the piece of furniture to stand behind his chair, 
resting his hands on the back.  
        A heavy sigh left Reese as he made a point of 
looking at his watch and then back to the source of 
his annoyance.  "Do you know what time it is, 
detective?  You and your partner should be working on 
some paperwork.  Shouldn't you?  I need those follow-
ups before the end of the shift."
         "I'm sorry, Captain.  I know I'm late."  
Nick nodded as he apologized.  He glanced at Tracy 
and then back to his boss.  "We'll have the reports 
finished before the end of the night."
        Reese's expression lost some of its severity 
as he accepted the apology and the reassurance.  
"Okay.  See that you do."  He looked from Nick to 
Tracy and then back to Nick.  It appeared as if he 
was going to add something else, but changed his 
mind.  Instead, he went back into his office and 
closed the door, mumbling all the way.
        Relief moved over Tracy as Nick took his 
chair.  She would have gotten kind of a perverse 
enjoyment watching her partner endure one of the 
lectures she had already been privy to, but she 
really didn't want to sit through another one 
herself.  She was glad the captain hadn't blessed 
them with a sermon tonight, although she wasn't sure 
why they'd been spared.
        Nick picked up the small stack of files Tracy 
had put on his desk and began leafing through them.  
Leaning forward in her chair, Tracy eyed Nick's bent 
head as she questioned him.  "Have any luck with the 
hunt?"  She was only guessing at the reason he was 
late, but she was sure her guess wasn't far off the 
mark.
        Her partner turned his attention from the 
files, and his gaze settled on her face.  His 
expression relayed his defeat.  She was right.  Nick 
knew exactly to what she was referring.  "No.  I went 
to a toy store and just couldn't find anything.  It 
wasn't for lack of choices, though."  He shook his 
head as he laid the files down and sat back in his 
chair.  "Maybe there were <too many> choices.  I 
didn't think finding a gift for a six-year-old would 
be this hard."
        Tracy hesitated for a second.  She didn't 
know how the man sitting across from her would take 
what she was about to say, but she went ahead and 
voiced her thoughts on the matter.  "Well, Nick, if 
you ask me, I think you're making it a little harder 
than it has to be."  She paused again.  There was no 
sign of irritation in his expression, only a look of 
inquiry, so she continued.  "I mean, let's face it.  
A six-year-old kid plays with a toy for a few days or 
weeks and then moves on to the next one.  It's not 
like it's something he's going to have for the rest 
of his life.  You can worry about giving those kinds 
of gifts when he gets a little older."
        "I know, Trace.  You're right."  Nick 
accepted what she was saying to him.  "It's just that 
this is the first birthday I'll share with Elliot, 
and I want to make the gift special.  I know it 
sounds a bit silly, especially since we're talking 
about a young boy, but the more I think about it, the 
more I realize I <want> to give him something he'll 
have for the rest of his life.  So I guess a toy's 
not such a good idea."  He sat thoughtfully for a 
moment and then went on.  "Looks like it's back to 
the ol' drawing board."  He tossed his partner a 
grateful smile.   "Thanks for the help, Trace.  At 
least now I'm sure about what I'm <not> going to get 
him."
        She was warmed by his gratitude and returned 
the smile.  "No problem, Nick.  Although I don't know 
how much help I gave you.  You still don't know what 
you <are> going to get him.  When <is> Elliot's 
birthday anyway?"
        His expression suddenly turned sheepish.  
"Day after tomorrow."  Tracy didn't try to hide her 
surprise, and Nick acknowledged his predicament.  "I 
know.  I'm cutting it pretty close, but I'm sure I'll 
find something."
        Tracy noted the determined gleam in her 
partner's eyes, and she too was sure he would come up 
with a gift in time for the big day.  She'd never 
seen him fail at anything, and with the concern he 
was putting into this project, she was certain he 
would disappoint neither himself nor the boy.  She 
still marveled at the closeness the two shared.  One 
day she hoped to see Nick and Nat settled down, and 
her partner doting on children of his own.  A smirk 
lifted a corner of Tracy's mouth at the thought of 
miniature Knights wrapping Daddy around their little 
fingers.
        Nick's sigh interrupted her musings.  He 
pulled his chair closer to the deck and once again 
picked up the files.  "Well, we'd better get cracking 
on the follow-ups or Reese will get cracking on us."
        With a nod of agreement, Tracy turned back to 
her computer.  "Right."
        It turned out to be an excellent night to get 
the clean-up work done.  Everything was surprisingly 
quiet.  No new cases came in, and Nick and Tracy were 
able to take the completed reports to the captain 
around four A.M.  Nick knocked on the office door.  
After a few seconds, a gruff, "Come in," sounded from 
inside.  The detectives entered the room to find 
their leader on the phone.  A minute ticked by before 
he hung up.  Nick placed the files on his deck.  
"Here ya go, Cap.  The hard copies are there and 
Tracy got everything entered into the computer.  
We're all up to date."
        Looking satisfied, Captain Reese picked up 
the folders and glanced through them.  "Good."  He 
shot the officers a sarcastic smile.  "I knew you two 
could work together if you put your minds to it."  
Tracy and Nick exchanged slightly abashed glances as 
Reese looked at his watch.  "You both might as well 
book off a few minutes early.  I can't remember when 
we've had such an uneventful shift.  See you 
tonight."  He lowered his attention back to the 
papers in front of him.
        Tracy made a beeline for the door, thankful 
for the clean getaway.  She tossed a "Thanks, Cap.  
See you tonight," over her shoulder as she left the 
office.
        "Yeah, thanks, Captain."  Nick turned to make 
his retreat but was stopped by his boss's voice.
        "Ah, detective?  You do know what <time> 
tonight, don't you?"  Reese's face was all business, 
but the amusement in the captain's eye told Nick he 
was receiving a friendly reminder.
        Detective Knight smiled and nodded.  "Yeah.  
I <think> I've got it down."  With that, he took his 
leave.   

        Natalie Lambert sat at her desk looking down 
at an open file.  She was adding the last of her 
autopsy findings into the tape recorder when her 
favorite patient entered the lab.  Nick walked over 
to lean against the counter in front of her desk and 
smiled a silent greeting.  The coroner returned the 
smile as she ended her statement.  "Cause of death, 
strangulation."  With a click, the recorder stopped 
and Natalie put it down on the desk.  She looked up 
into Nick's handsome face as she sat back in her 
chair.  He looked tired.  He looked tired a lot 
lately, and it concerned her a great deal.  "Are you 
finished for the night?"  She glanced at the clock.  
"Time off for good behavior?"
        A short laugh left the detective as he pulled 
a hand out of a coat pocket and absentmindedly 
fiddled with a microscope sitting on the counter.  
"Well, not exactly.  I wasn't quite the model 
employee tonight, but it was slow, and after Tracy 
and I finished catching up on some paperwork, Reese 
let us leave a little early."
        Nat grinned.  //Not quite the model employee?  
Can you say understatement, boys and girls?  I knew 
you could.//  Nick's independence and occasional 
bending of the rules had put him at odds with the 
department and his superiors several times over the 
years.  Being a vampire allowed him a deeper 
knowledge of certain situations, and when he went off 
on what looked like a crazy tangent to the mortals he 
worked with, it only confirmed their view of him as a 
half-cocked renegade.  His success, however, always 
quieted the grumbling and readjusted the attitudes.  
Since Reese let him go early, she was fairly certain 
tonight's infraction had been a minor one.  
"Translate 'wasn't quite the model employee' for me.  
Have you been messing with the captain's ulcer again, 
Nick?"
        He continued to tamper with the objectives on 
the microscope as he cast Nat a roguish smile.  "Oh, 
I don't think I caused too much excess acid tonight.  
I was a few minutes late.  That's all."
        The smile made Natalie's pulse rate jump.  
Her feelings for Nick, along with his striking 
physical appearance, combined to do the most terribly 
unpredictable things to her composure sometimes.  She 
dropped her gaze to the desktop and took a mental 
deep breath.  The out-of-control feeling frightened 
and annoyed her, but there seemed to be little she 
could do about the way she felt.  She loved him more 
than anyone she'd known before, and his effect on her 
went far beyond anything she had ever experienced.  
Did she really <want> to do anything about it?  If 
the truth be known, the feeling excited her in a way 
she didn't want to examine too closely.  Maybe that 
was what bothered her more than anything?
        She turned her attention back to Nick's 
playful expression and tried to get her mind back to 
the conversation.  "Late?  Don't tell me you 
overslept?  No, on second thought, <tell> me you 
overslept.  It's such a mortal thing to do--hitting 
the snooze button and thinking to yourself, 'Just 
<five> more minutes.'"  She closed her eyes as she 
said the last words.
          Detective Knight chuckled softly and shook 
his head.  "Sorry, Nat.  I didn't oversleep.  But you 
might be just as pleased with the <real> reason I was 
late.  How mortal is looking for a birthday present 
for a new six-year-old?"
        Nat's eyes popped open, and her dreamy smile 
widened.  //Elliot Simmons.//  Meeting the boy and 
his parents had been one of the most positive things 
that had happened in Nick's life over the last 
several months, if not <the> most positive thing, and 
she was grateful for the circumstance.  Jacob and his 
family had come along at a time when Nick needed a 
fresh connection with the mortal world, and, 
surprisingly, he allowed that connection.  He hadn't 
avoided or ignored the opportunity.  He'd permitted 
himself the friendships and the closeness, and 
Natalie was encouraged by the endeavor.  She'd had 
little else to be encouraged about lately as she 
watched Nick's enthusiasm for their search slowly 
diminish, but this one instance gave her hope that he 
would overcome the setbacks and put more of an effort 
into the cure.  She hoped.  She would always hope.  
And although her exposure to 'The Jerry Show' had 
brought her to the brink, and she'd come close to 
washing her hands of everything, in the end, the 
experience had convinced her once and for all that 
she would <never> give up on Nick.  Never.
        The doctor leaned forward in her chair and 
rested her arms across the desk as she looked up at 
him.  "Well, that qualifies as very mortal, I'd say.  
Still haven't found anything?" 
        "No, not yet."   Dejection shaded Nick's 
expression.  "And I'm running out of time.  I want it 
to be something special, Nat.  Something that he'll 
keep."
        Doctor Lambert moved her eyes from Nick's 
face to the hand that was still fascinated by the 
microscope and then back to his face.  She couldn't 
believe how hard he was making this one little task.  
"So, along with the clothes we eliminated last week, 
you've now set aside toys as a possibility?  You're 
not leaving yourself open for much, Nick.  He's only 
six, ya know."  He shot her an irritated look, and 
she held up her hands in a gesture of surrender.  "I 
know.  I know.  This is the first and you want it to 
be special."  
        Since Natalie was not as close to the boy as 
Nick, she really had no other ideas to contribute.  
When he'd asked her for some suggestions last week, 
she'd inquired about any particular likes Elliot 
might have, but the detective had been rather vague.  
She'd only had a couple of opportunities to meet 
Jacob and his family, and Nick, as usual, didn't talk 
about them as much as one might expect.  What little 
she had been around the Simmons family had shown them 
to be very pleasant and likable, but Natalie wasn't 
on the same wavelength, so to speak.  Jacob, 
Elizabeth and Nick shared interests that she did not 
have, and even though she loved Nick, she did not 
share his closeness with the Simmons'.  So, she had 
no idea what a 'special' gift for Elliot might mean.
        Nick remained silent while his attention 
moved back to the microscope.  He was still playing 
with it.  Natalie got up and walked over to stand in 
front of him.  "Look, Detective Knight, I know you're 
a little frustrated right now, but this is an 
expensive piece of equipment, and you're going to do 
some irrevocable damage if you don't give it a rest."  
She smiled at his bent head as she reached out and 
stayed the pale hand on the microscope.  
        As expected, his skin was very cool, but the 
contact sent a warm excitement rushing through her 
body.  Again Natalie felt her pulse jump, and when 
Nick raised his head to look into her eyes, she knew 
he had heard the disturbance.  His hand moved from 
the instrument to capture hers in a light, but firm 
grip, and Natalie couldn't seem to find her voice.  
The out-of-control feeling had returned.  She felt as 
if she were drowning in the blue of his eyes.  
        As they continued to silently gaze at one 
another, Nick's thumb started a slow, soothing 
movement across the back of Natalie's hand.  She 
closed her eyes against the turbulence the simple, 
yet seductive action was creating in her mind and 
body, and against the intoxicating desire she saw on 
Nick's face.  A desire they had both decided, for now 
at least, was too dangerous for them to pursue.  She 
heard his whispered "Natalie" softly resound in her 
ears.
          //God help me.  I want him.  I love him.//  
She struggled to get her feelings back under some 
kind of control.  //This is crazy.  What's the matter 
with you?  Get a hold of yourself, Lambert!//  She 
opened her eyes again to find that the need on Nick's 
face had not lessened, and she was once again 
floundering in the cool depths of his eyes.  He 
whispered her name a second time.  It was the most 
beautiful sound she had ever heard.  She felt as if 
she were losing herself in him.  As if she were being 
drawn into him.  She wanted him to hold her...to love 
her.  She wanted to become part of him.  She 
wanted...  A small voice somewhere amidst the chaos 
of her thoughts reminded her exactly what that meant, 
and she began to fight for some semblance of 
equilibrium.  She had to break the spell he was 
weaving.  //Spell?//  What was she thinking?  Was 
<he> weaving a spell, or was <she> just overwhelmed 
by her need for closer physical contact with him?  
        She worked to find her tongue.  //Elliot.  
We're talking about Elliot.//  When she finally found 
it, her voice sounded shaky and uncertain to her 
ears.  "Ah...ah...music.  How about music, Nick?"  
With the question, the detective's expression became 
inquisitive, and the caressing movement of his thumb 
stopped.  Natalie breathed a silent sigh of relief 
before continuing.  "I know you and Jacob share an 
interest in classical music.  Has Elliot shown any 
interest or desire to play?  I know he's young, but 
the younger the better.  Isn't that what they say?"  
Was she babbling?  She hoped it didn't sound as if 
she were babbling.  "You couldn't very well buy him a 
grand piano.  Not that you couldn't afford one, but 
it wouldn't look good on a cop's salary.  Maybe you 
could start him out with something small that he 
could learn on.  Say, maybe...well, I don't know.  
I'm just thinking out loud here."  
        Nick's expression turned thoughtful.  He was 
silent for a moment as he considered what she'd said.  
Then an awareness seemed to come to him and along 
with it a smile.  He caught Natalie by surprise as he 
leaned forward to place a kiss on her cheek.  "That's 
it, Nat.  I've just thought of a great gift.  I don't 
know why I didn't think of it before.  Thank you, 
thank you."  He planted another quick kiss on her 
cheek as he captured her other hand and held both of 
them in front of him.  "I knew you would come up with 
something.  Thanks."     
        Confused seemed an inadequate word to 
describe her state of mind at the moment, as Natalie 
tried to gather her thoughts and recover from the 
previous few minutes.  Obviously her music suggestion 
had been an inspiration, but an inspiration for what?  
"Well, I'm glad to be of help, detective."  The 
slightly perplexed expression was replaced with a 
satisfied smile.  "Mind telling me what exactly I've 
come up with?"
        The smile continued to play on his mouth 
while Nick shook his head.  "No, I don't mind, but 
I'd really rather show you.  How about coming over to 
the loft after your shift?"
        Natalie hesitated.  After what just happened, 
she didn't know if that would be such a good idea.  
She had her wits about her again, but she didn't want 
to tempt fate.  She was very conscious of the cool 
hands that held hers as she searched Nick's face for 
any sign of the passion she'd seen there only moments 
ago.  None was evident.  The contented smile and a 
look of anticipation as he awaited her answer were 
all she noted.  He appeared completely oblivious to 
the confusion he had created only minutes earlier, 
and looked as if he hadn't been affected at all.  
Maybe she'd just imagined the whole thing?  //I don't 
think so!//  She most certainly hadn't imagined her 
feelings, but maybe she'd seen more than was actually 
there in Nick's?  Did he even realize what he had 
done?  Had he really <done> anything?  Surely he 
wouldn't have tried to entice her on purpose.  Their 
feelings for one another just got a little out of 
hand, nothing more.  He knew, better than she, how 
dangerous it was, no matter how much they both longed 
for the closeness.  He would <never> try to influence 
her in that way.  Besides, he couldn't.
        She gave herself a hard mental shake as she 
tried to rationalize her reaction to Nick's caress.  
//You're tired.  You're not thinking straight.  
That's why you're so hypersensitive this morning.  
You're letting your imagination, and your love for 
this man, run away with you.//  
        She brought her attention back to her 
friend's question.  Her curiosity was aroused, and 
she <did> want to see the gift Nick had decided on 
for his young companion.  She smiled up at the 
attractive detective as she answered him.  "Yeah, 
sure.  I can't wait to get a load of this 'great' 
present."
        "Wonderful.  I'll see you in about an hour or 
so."  He lifted her hands one by one to his mouth and 
placed a kiss on the back of each one.  Giving them a 
gentle squeeze, he released her and headed out of the 
lab.
        Natalie watched Nick's retreating back as a 
troubled frown clouded her expression.  His recent 
setbacks had done some serious damage to his control.  
Maybe there was more to this little incident than she 
wanted to believe?  She tried to convince herself 
that there <was> no incident and it was all in her 
exhausted mind, but she wouldn't completely accept 
that explanation.  She recalled, only a few weeks 
ago, when she'd watched in shock as Nick hypnotized 
Detective Fullford at the precinct in front of dozens 
of officers.  His fascination with the virtual 
reality vampire game had done much to weaken both his 
judgment and conviction.  He told her that once he 
stopped playing the game its effects on him had 
stopped, but she had her doubts.  Was this morning 
proof that indeed he still hadn't shaken its 
influence?  But had anything sinister really happened 
this morning, or were four days of fifteen-hour 
shifts starting to take their toll?     
        The coroner turned back to her desk to stack 
the report she'd been working on in the 'Out' box, 
and put the tape recorder in the drawer.  She would 
go over to the loft to check on Nick, see the 
mysterious gift and then get back to her place.  
Since she still hadn't completely convinced herself 
that what happened was nothing more than a fatigue-
affected imagination working overtime, she decided 
not to confront Nick with her thoughts.  She really 
needed a good day's rest.


        Nick slid the elevator door closed and leaned 
back against it as he ran a hand over his weary eyes.  
What the hell did he think he was doing?  Pushing 
himself off the door, he went to the refrigerator, 
jerked it open and reached past two protein drinks to 
grab a bottle of blood.  He yanked out the cork and 
downed half of the contents.  Lowering the steadying 
liquid from his lips, he closed his eyes as its 
soothing effect penetrated his hungry body.  But his 
body hungered for much more than cow's blood.  He 
looked down at the hand that, not long ago, had 
caressed Natalie's and remembered the delicious 
warmth.  The softness of her skin.  The feel of the 
pulse in her wrist as it beat steadily, if not a 
little too quickly, beneath his fingers.  Her 
captivating scent.  Her...   His shout of "No!" cut 
through the disturbing thoughts and the silence of 
the loft.  
        He pulled out another bottle and slammed the 
refrigerator door shut.  The vampire carried his meal 
into the living room and sat it on the coffee table.  
The remote button shut out the cleansing rays of the 
new day that danced on the horizon.  After pulling 
off his coat and throwing it on the back of a chair, 
he fell onto the couch and picked up the open bottle.  
Another long drink almost emptied the container.  He 
leaned back and once again closed his eyes.  What 
he'd done this morning was unforgivable.  What 
happened?  Why had he had such a complete lapse in 
his control?  He hadn't seen it coming.  It had not 
been a conscious decision.  It had somehow just 
happened.    
        Nat's delicate warmth had touched his hand, 
and the craving for more intimate contact took 
charge.   He listened to her heartbeat, sensed her 
desire for him and wanted nothing more at that moment 
than to take her inside himself.  Feel her softness 
against him.  Taste and experience her life's essence 
as it bathed his mouth and spoke to his mind.  He 
loved her, and the desire for the physical side of 
that love had reared its head and usurped his unsound 
control.  How could he have let it happen?  The 
physical side of love for a vampire meant certain 
death or eternal darkness for the mortal object of 
that love, and he would inflict neither on Natalie.  
But hadn't he come dangerously close?     
        He had gazed into her lovely eyes and begun 
gently pulling her to him.  Softly calling to her 
heart.  Playing on her need.  Pushing aside her 
better judgment.  Even though she was a resister, the 
strong feelings they shared for one another made her 
very susceptible to his subtle persuasion, and he'd 
found himself using that persuasion to break through 
her common sense and poise.  It was beyond wrong!  
Was he really that weak?  So weak as to let his 
darkness threaten the one true light in his life?  
Had he slipped that far down the peak?  Had the 
circumstances of the past year battered his resolve 
that badly?   
        Worse than anything, he had betrayed her 
trust in him in the most base way possible.  The 
vampire had taken over and used his powers to achieve 
what he wanted with consideration for nothing else.  
It had used her faith in his control.  It had 
manipulated her belief in his determination.  She 
knew what he was and did not fear him.  She accepted 
him, and, God help her, loved him.  She believed that 
his desire for the goal kept her safe from the evil 
that lurked within him.  She had faith that he 
despised his darkness so much that he would never let 
it touch her.  That belief and faith had made her 
vulnerable to the malignancy that had once again 
started to slowly reassert its control, and it 
frightened him.  His weakness disgusted him.
        Nick felt a chill move down his body as he 
opened his eyes to stare unseeing into the dark 
fireplace.  He'd stood in the morgue holding Nat's 
hand, one minute relishing the closeness, and the 
next feeling himself trying to mesmerize her. It was 
inconceivable.  He loved her, yes.  He wanted her, 
yes, but he would never sacrifice her life or 
mortality for that desire.  <Never.>  What the hell 
was the matter with him?  He had to get his act 
together, get hold of himself.  This was insane.  
        The steep slope on which he balanced himself 
was becoming slippery once more, and he felt his feet 
slide back another fraction.  As he again recognized 
his faulty stasis, he vowed <never> to take Natalie 
with him.
        Emptying the bottle in his hand, he returned 
it to the table and uncorked the second.  The hunger 
had subsided only slightly and he took another long 
drink of the life sustaining blood.  Nat would be 
arriving anytime and he had to get a grip on himself.  
After what had happened, he wondered at his apparent 
lack of wisdom in asking her to come to the loft.  He 
had been trying so hard to regain some normalcy and 
hide his shame and guilt over what had transpired 
moments before that he'd impulsively let the question 
fly.  He did want her to see the flute, but he could 
have picked a better time and place to show it to 
her.  He took another drink and felt the hunger 
subside a little more.  With the blood in his system 
and the shock and fear the earlier incident had 
instilled in him, he was fairly certain Nat's visit 
would go smoothly, but he would be very careful.
        //Nat.  What have I done?//  Nick got up from 
the couch and started to pace around the room as the 
need to escape suddenly moved over him, the desire to 
retreat fiercely gripping his mind.  He wanted to 
withdraw.  To run away.  To find refuge from the 
shame and guilt.  To retreat to a place where he 
could lose himself and forget.  Forget the struggle, 
the weakness and the self-loathing, if only for a 
short while.      
        He walked back to the coffee table and 
finished off the second bottle.  The hunger was 
easing; at least that was something.  He looked at 
the bottle in his hand and then at the one sitting on 
the table.  Natalie knew he had been drinking more 
blood, but having two empty bottles sitting out when 
she arrived was still not a good idea.  He carried 
them into the kitchen.  
        The blood had helped calm his hunger, but had 
done little to ease the need for escape.  If 
anything, the twinge of guilt he felt every time he 
drank the nourishing substance had increased his 
longing for relief.  As he lifted the bottles to put 
them in the garbage can, he admitted to himself that 
it wasn't really a place he longed for, but a person.  
A companion.  He needed to be with someone who 
completely understood what he was experiencing.  
Someone he could talk openly with and not fear seeing 
the disappointment and disgust he would see on 
Natalie's face.  One of his own kind.  A friend.  A 
wife.  A lover.  Janette.
        "Janette."  The name left his lips as her 
beautiful face entered his mind's eye.  In the same 
instance, one of the bottles slipped from his grasp 
and shattered on the kitchen floor.  "Damn."  The 
irritated exclamation was no more than a whisper as 
he put the remaining bottle in the waste bin and 
retrieved a broom.  
        Nick stared down at the broken glass on the 
floor as the feelings he had experienced when LaCroix 
told him Janette was no longer in Toronto came 
flooding back.  She had left him again, and this time 
he had gotten no good-bye and no explanation.  His 
master had told him that it was her time to leave, 
and maybe it was true, but it was a hollow, sanitized 
excuse and did nothing to ease his pain.  He'd gone 
to Janette for companionship.  He'd needed to talk to 
her.  Tell her how he was feeling after his mortal 
friend's death.  He'd needed her comfort.  The guilt 
and hurt had closed in around him, and he'd needed an 
escape.  Instead, he had been faced with the 
discovery that his closest friend throughout the 
centuries had also left him.  The realization had 
almost been too much to bear.  Janette's sudden 
departure had made him feel abandoned, alone and 
lost.  He still found it hard to believe that she was 
gone, and he still asked himself why.  He wasn't 
certain how long he would have to wait to hear the 
answer to that question, but he would, one day, hear 
it from Janette.  She <would> tell him why.
        He finished sweeping the glass onto the 
dustpan and tossed it in the trash.  With the broom 
and pan back in their place, he glanced at his watch.  
He decided he'd better make sure the flute was where 
he remembered packing it away, and climbed the stairs 
to his bedroom where he pulled a small crate from the 
closet.  Kneeling in front of the plain wooden box, 
he raised the lid to reveal the small treasures he 
kept tucked away.  Most of the articles were 
treasures only in the personal sense.  Several old 
letters, a few sketches and a photograph or two.  He 
knew the flute was somewhere in amongst the 
collection.  Probably on the bottom.    
        He pushed aside an envelope, and his search 
for the instrument was interrupted when he caught 
sight of an old picture of Janette.  It had been a 
long time since he'd looked in the chest, and he 
didn't remember the picture right away.  He picked it 
up to examine it more closely.  Running a gentle 
finger down a faded, crinkled cheek, the moment in 
time came surging back.  He recollected the cool, 
spring evening 75 years ago in Paris when she had 
insisted they stop at the small riverside booth so 
she could have it taken.  She was so lovely.  A smile 
touched his mouth as he remembered the joy of that 
moment.  For a while, they had been happy.  
        The smile faded as quickly as it had 
appeared, as the memory made him realize just how 
much he missed her.  She was his friend and he loved 
her, but their closeness went even further.  She had 
brought a stability to his shaky existence, the 
strength of which he was only now beginning to 
comprehend.  She provided a comfort and release that 
he had found himself longing for several times over 
the past year. 
        'I like it when you need me.'  He recalled 
her words as they stood by the waterfront.  He could 
still feel her touch and the weight of her head as it 
rested on his shoulder.  She had forgiven him his 
selfishness and offered her support and compassion 
with a complete understanding of his need.  She 
hadn't judged him.  She had wanted nothing more than 
to soothe his anguish.  The close call in the morgue 
earlier that morning flashed in his mind, and the 
desire to retreat rushed back to the fore.  He needed 
her now.
        The photograph slipped from Nick's fingers 
and fell back into the box.   With that need came the 
guilt.  Janette was part of an existence he was 
trying to leave behind, and it was impossible to 
separate the two.  His love and need for her helped 
keep him tied to the world of darkness. Even though 
she was gone from him now, he knew they would someday 
meet again.  Did he want to cut himself off 
completely? Could he?  The questions, and the doubt 
they revealed, weighed heavily on his heart. 
        And what about Nat?  His uneasiness increased 
as he speculated on how she felt about his feelings.  
She knew what kind of relationship he shared with 
Janette, and the knowledge was a source of pain for 
her.  //Nat, I've never wanted to hurt you.//  
        He lowered his eyes back to the picture in 
the box.  She knew about the relationship, but she 
didn't completely understand the complexity of the 
connection.  How could she?  She wasn't a vampire.  
She wouldn't want to hear that Janette's presence had 
gone a long way toward shoring up his control, 
especially where his mortal love was concerned.  It 
was hard to admit even to himself, but he could not 
deny the truth.  The release Janette had provided 
gave him the strength to resist the temptations of 
his fictitious mortal existence.  She had been a 
buffer.  An ironic type of protection for Natalie, 
and a safety net for him.  The net, however, was no 
longer here, and he had to adjust to its absence.  He 
had grown to depend on it too much over the past 
several years, and now he would have to function 
without the support.  
        He ran a tired hand through his hair.  
Support or no, he could not endanger Nat again. What 
happened at the morgue this morning would <not> 
happen again, no matter what he had to do to prevent 
it.  Natalie was everything bright and good about his 
search, and he would not soil her with his darkness.  
She <was> the goal.  Just as Jacob and his family 
were the goal.  They were what waited for him should 
he ever reach the end of his quest.  He would not 
tarnish them with the evil that held him captive.
        Nick closed his eyes.  The end of his search.  
Would he ever reach the end?  The end that he wanted?  
Nat's lovely, trusting face appeared before him.  He 
longed for a mortal life with her.  He'd dreamed 
about their children.  Their son.  But was it really 
possible?  Again the doubts crowded his thoughts.  
Could he ever break free of the darkness that 
shrouded his soul and kept Natalie beyond his reach?  
No matter how much he fought it, he couldn't prevent 
the uncertainty from building.
        Opening his eyes, he banished the nagging 
apprehension.  Nick moved the picture and several 
other objects aside as he dug deeper in his effort to 
find the pipe.  Just as his hand encountered the 
carved piece of wood, he heard the sound of an 
approaching heartbeat.  //Nat.//  She was in the 
elevator on her way up to the loft.  Nick pulled the 
old instrument from its hiding place at the bottom of 
the box and pushed the closed case back into the 
closet.  He straightened and took a deep breath.  His 
heightened awareness gave him a guarded confidence in 
his control as he turned and headed downstairs to 
show Natalie the beautiful flute.

        LaCroix took another sip from his glass.  As 
he set his meal down on the end table, the satisfied 
smile moved back into place.  Of late, his son's 
thoughts and feelings had been a source of delightful 
encouragement for him.  The battle raged more 
fiercely than normal this morning, and the general 
reveled in the chaos as a flood of jumbled emotions 
washed over the connection between the two vampires.  
Confusion.  Fear.  Love.  Doubt.  Anger.  Sorrow.  
Determination.  Longing.  And, of course, the ever 
present guilt.  What had caused this particular 
elevation in the struggle, he was not sure, but he 
welcomed the incident, whatever it had been.  It, 
along with the overall increase in Nicholas' inner 
conflict, gave LaCroix reason for a renewed hope that 
his son would finally see the futility of his search 
for mortality and come back into the fold.  Nicholas 
had faced obstacles and temptations that steered him 
back toward the direction of his true nature, and the 
master vampire happily anticipated the ever-growing 
influence of the events.  The restored civility he 
now shared with his child also gave him reason for 
optimism, but he did not allow that optimism to fog 
his reasoning.  His protege was stubborn to the 
extreme, and the elder vampire knew that Nicholas 
would fight to the bitter end.  Still, the heightened 
turbulence was a good sign.  He felt his son's 
resolve slipping away ever so slowly.  No more than a 
trickle really, but the loss was definitely palpable.  
        Closing his eyes, LaCroix pulled on the 
thread.  //Let it go, Nicholas.  Stop this constant 
torture and release the guilt.//  He only wanted what 
was best for his favorite creation, and relinquishing 
this silly quest, and the torment that went along 
with it, was most emphatically the best thing for 
Nicholas.   Opening his eyes, Lucien retrieved his 
glass and drained the contents.  He rose from his 
chair and moved toward the bedroom.  He would rest 
this day with a sense of great anticipation.

        Nick closed the bedroom door behind him and 
paused as he turned to go downstairs, the tug on his 
thoughts stopping his movement.  This time he didn't 
fight the call.  He was so tired.  Closing his eyes, 
he relaxed and allowed the communication.  LaCroix.  
The concern was identifiable, along with the 
frustration.  Nick also felt the encouragement and 
thought to himself, //You'll never understand.//  He 
opened his eyes as he whispered, "Or perhaps you 
understand more than I want to admit."  His gaze 
dropped to the door of the elevator as it slid open, 
and Natalie walked into the loft.
        She took the bag she was carrying to the 
kitchen table and glanced around for any signs of 
life.  "Anybody home?"  She shrugged out of her coat 
and draped it over the back of a chair.
        Abandoning the connection with his master, 
Nick pushed aside his dissenting thoughts and 
continued toward the top of the staircase.   "Yeah, 
Nat.  Hi."  He moved the flute behind his back and 
started down the stairs.
        Natalie looked up to see him reach the bottom 
step and walk into the kitchen.  The fatigue she 
noticed earlier at the morgue was etched a little 
deeper on his face.  She wouldn't stay long.  He, 
like herself, needed some rest.  As he approached, 
she noted that something else lurked on the handsome 
face and in the haunted eyes.  Shame?  Sorrow?  
Defeat?  She couldn't be sure.  And before she had a 
chance to decide what the feeling was, the expression 
slipped away to be replaced by a tenuous smile.  The 
look had only been there for an instant, but it 
worried her.  Looks like that, no matter how 
fleeting, worried her more than usual these days.  
Something was bothering him.  Her questions about the 
occurrence earlier that morning ran through her head.  
//No.//  She didn't believe that Nick had anything to 
do with what came over her this morning.  Anything 
other than being the man she loved and desired at any 
rate.  
        As she continued to search his face, Natalie 
looked through the grin and saw the sadness that 
still lingered in his eyes.  The need to comfort him 
struck her hard, but she couldn't help him if she 
didn't know what troubled him.  She hesitated a 
moment, uncertain as to his reaction, but then forged 
ahead.  "Nick, is something wrong?"
        Her question obviously took him by surprise.  
She watched as the smile disappeared, and his gaze 
fell to the floor.  Uneasiness quickly crossed his 
face before he masked his features.  Slowly shaking 
his head, he raised his eyes to her again.  "Wrong?"  
He faltered a moment, as if picking his words, and 
then continued.  "I'm fine, Nat.  Things...are fine.  
Just a little tired I guess."
        The smile he forced back to his lips did 
little to reassure her.  He was not 'fine'.  Natalie 
felt a stab of disappointment and hurt at his 
unwillingness to confide in her.  Irritation crept 
into her voice in spite of her effort to keep it out.  
"Okay.  You don't want to talk about it.  So what 
else is new?"  
        She paused and took a deep breath.  Sometimes 
he frustrated her beyond distraction.  After all they 
had been through together and in spite of the 
feelings they shared for one another, he still 
couldn't bring himself to completely open up to her, 
and the fact wounded her deeply.  It also served as 
an unpleasant reminder of just how little she really 
knew about him, and how great the distance between 
them still remained.  Over the years he had confided 
much to her, but she wasn't naive enough not to know 
that there were still a great many things he kept to 
himself.  The vampire, its history and influence, 
stood between them.  Sometimes the chasm seemed 
unbridgeable, and sometimes it seemed not to exist at 
all--well almost.  What was it that he felt he 
couldn't talk to her about?  Was it fear that 
accompanied the sadness in his eyes?
        Nick made no move to respond.  As she stared 
back into his solemn face, Natalie felt some of the 
hurt and exasperation drain away.  She didn't want to 
be angry with him.  With all he had been through 
lately, he didn't need her anger, he needed her 
patience and understanding.  He needed her support.  
An encouraging smile curved her mouth as she offered 
that support.  "Nick...."  Stepping forward, she 
cupped a gentle hand on his cheek.  "Know that I'm 
here for you whenever you need me, if you'll let me.  
Never forget that."
        Nick's eyes never left hers as he reached up 
and took the soothing hand fFrom his face, wrapping 
it in his own.  His expression was filled with such 
thankful tenderness that Natalie felt the remainder 
of the hurt leave her.  A loving warmth took its 
place, and she gave herself up to the contentment the 
warmth provided.  
        That contentment was short-lived, however, 
as, after only a few seconds, she watched the 
tenderness fade into sadness and...confusion? as Nick 
finally spoke.  "Nat, I'm so sorry.  But I can't...."  
His words trailed off into silence, but he recovered 
quickly, his voice quiet with reverence as he 
accepted her words.  "I know, Nat.  And it means more 
to me than you'll ever know.  I....  Thank you."  He 
brought her hand to his lips.
        The contact of his cool mouth had an effect 
similar to the one she experienced earlier in the 
day. Natalie closed her eyes as the tingle ran 
through her.  When Nick's lips left the back of her 
hand, she looked up into his brooding eyes.   She 
wished with all her heart that he would unburden 
himself, but she knew better than to push too hard.  
"All right, Nick.  I'll let it go for now.  When 
you're ready to talk to me, you will.  Right?"  He 
nodded an agreement and reluctantly released her 
hand.    
         Nat turned her attention to the arm that 
rested behind his back and smiled.  She leaned her 
head to one side in a playful attempt to steal a look 
at what he held in his hand.  "Is that the 'great' 
gift?"
        He returned the smile and presented the flute 
for her inspection.  
        Her eyes widened with surprise and delight 
when she beheld the beautifully carved and painted 
piece of wood.  An inquisitive hand reached out to 
touch the antique instrument.  "Oh, Nick.  It's 
wonderful."
        She gingerly took the flute from him and 
examined it more closely.  She guessed it to be about 
ten inches long and not much more than a half an inch 
in diameter.  The carving was intricate and delicate.  
Thin vines, with their leaves and small blue flowers, 
twisted around the flute and wove in and out of the 
areas between the holes on the topside of the wood.  
Four yellow birds perched on various parts of the 
vine between the bell-shaped flowers.  A sun, with 
its bright rays, shown down on the other occupants of 
the instrument from a place just below the 
mouthpiece.  The passage of time had faded and muted 
what were once, she was sure, vibrant colors, but it 
was still an impressive sight.  She also noted the 
light-colored wood from which the flute was carved, 
but couldn't tell what kind it was.
        Natalie lifted her gaze back to Nick.  She 
remembered the swan harp and knew the flute also had 
to have some kind of a history.  She wanted to hear 
the story.  "It's truly beautiful, Nick.  Did you 
carve it?"
        Shaking his head, he put his hands in the 
pockets of his jeans.  "No.  It was made for me by a 
friend about 300 years ago."  He paused as the gleam 
of a distant, happy memory flashed in his eye.
        Nat waited for him to continue, but he was 
lost in the past, and she knew she would have to coax 
him back before she would hear anything further.  
Reaching out with the flute, she gently poked him in 
the ribs.  The glazed look disappeared, and he smiled 
down at the impatient expression on her face. 
Anticipation echoed in her voice as she encouraged 
him to tell her more.  "Well?"
        His smile turned into a mischievous grin.  
"Well what?"
        Natalie rolled her eyes in frustration.  He 
knew very well what.  "Well....  I'm curious, Nick.  
Just like the harp and Erica's doll, the flute and 
its story serve as a window to the past...your past.  
I'm eager to get a glimpse whenever the opportunity 
presents itself.  Tell me how this lovely instrument 
found its way into your life."
        The playful smirk once again became a warm 
smile before he turned and walked into the living 
room.  Stopping in front of the fireplace, he turned 
back to face her.  "There isn't really much to tell, 
Nat.  Philip carved it for me as a thank-you gift."
        Following him into the living room, she 
prompted again, "Philip?  Thank-you gift?"
        Nick elaborated as Natalie took a seat on the 
couch.  "Philip Bass.  He owned a modest shoe shop in 
London."  Nick's eyes left his guest to 
look...nowhere, really.  He stared over her head, but 
she knew from his expression that he wasn't seeing 
anything in the loft.  He saw his friend.  The image 
appeared to stay with him only a few seconds as his 
sights rested once again on her face.  He motioned 
toward the flute in her hand.  "As you can see, he 
was a very talented craftsman.  Being a cobbler was 
his livelihood, but music was his love.  He played 
his creations as beautifully as he carved them.  He 
wasn't a bad teacher, either.  Michael, his grandson, 
was an excellent student.  At only eight years of 
age, he showed a genius for the instrument.  Philip 
was incredibly proud of him.  He was a source of 
great joy for the old gentleman, in both his musical 
talent and his willingness to help with the shop."
         "Michael worked with his grandfather?"  
Natalie's question broke another short silence.
        Some of the happy countenance faded from 
Nick's face as he nodded.  "He <lived> and worked 
with his grandfather.  Philip's son and daughter-in-
law had been killed about a year before I met him.  
He became the boy's guardian."
        A pang of sorrow twisted Nat's heart.  The 
scenario hit very close to home, and sympathy 
permeated her words.  "Sad.  How sad."
        The vampire agreed.  "Yes.  But the depth of 
love and closeness Philip and Michael shared gave 
them the strength and support to survive the tragedy 
and go on with their lives.  So, in that respect, 
they were very lucky."
        Nat's sorrow turned to pain as she thought of 
her grandmother.  She had forgiven Nana, but she 
would not, could not, forget the agony of the time 
spent in the older woman's care.  Natalie's gaze had 
dropped from Nick to the flute, and she looked up 
again as she discarded the unpleasant recollection.  
"Love and closeness make a powerful combination.  
You're right.  They were...very lucky."
        "Nat?  Are you okay?"  Nick took a step 
closer to her in his concern.
        She realized he must have read the sadness in 
her face.  She nodded as she tried to reassure him 
she was fine.  "Yeah.  I'm okay.  I just hate to hear 
about kids losing their parents, even if they did 
live 300 years ago."  She forced a tight smile.  
"Don't stop now.  Tell me more."
        Nick bowed his head in a gesture of 
compliance.  "I was a patron of Philip's shop.  I'd 
seen him working on a flute and admired his 
handiwork.  We became friendly, and one evening he 
invited me for dinner.  I declined the meal, of 
course, but told him I would stop by later in the 
evening.  That night I was treated to beautiful music 
and pleasant conversation.  But the serenity of the 
evening ended very abruptly when Michael stepped out 
into the shop to retrieve an extra lantern.  He'd 
only been gone for a moment when I became aware of 
the presence of another mortal in the building.  
Then, Philip and I both heard a short, muffled 
struggle, and he grabbed a lantern and rushed out 
into the shop before I could stop him."
        "Oh, no."  The soft expression of anxiety 
escaped Natalie as she leaned forward slightly in her 
seat.  She hadn't been aware that she'd said anything 
until she realized Nick had once again stopped his 
narration.  She barely heard his whispered "Gentle 
heart," as she watched the tender, understanding 
smile cross his lips.  She felt her heart flutter 
with a combination of feeling for him and a touch of 
embarrassment for herself.  Her subtle outburst had 
been impulsive.  A characteristic that denoted a lack 
of control and made her uncomfortable.  Her eyes 
moved from Nick's sensitive look to concentrate on 
the third button of his shirt.  A thorough 
examination only took a couple of seconds, and she 
returned her gaze to his face as he continued.
        "I followed Philip to discover an intruder in 
the store holding a knife to young Michael's throat.  
The old man barged ahead and garnered the 
trespasser's attention while I stayed back and 
sneaked around behind the would-be robber to end his 
awkward burglary attempt.  Philip was overjoyed and 
extremely grateful for his grandson's safety and 
showed me his gratitude in the best way he knew.  He 
crafted the beautiful instrument you hold in your 
hands."
        Despite the fact she knew things had to turn 
out happily, Nat had gotten caught up in the brief 
tale and felt relieved as Nick told her the boy and 
his grandfather had made it through the experience 
unscathed.  Her attention was drawn back to the 
object in her lap and a satisfied sigh escaped her.  
The mortals had survived thanks to the tortured 
vampire standing before her.
        Nick walked over to stand by Natalie and 
stared down at the flute.  "When Philip gave it to 
me, he said music was the most wonderful gift a 
person could give, and he hoped that one day I would 
be able to pass the flute on to one of my children.  
<My> children."
        The note of sadness returned to his tone with 
the last repeated words.  Natalie met the sorrow that 
also reflected in his eyes, and she too felt the ache 
of his grief.  Grief for children that would never 
be?  She wanted a family.  She wanted a family with 
Nick, and only Nick.  But would she find a cure in 
time to make that dream come true?  She honestly 
didn't know.  All she <did> know was that she would 
continue to work and hope, and of course, love.
        Hearing Philip's wish for his friend brought 
with it an understanding.  Natalie was now mindful of 
the significance the flute held, especially when 
given to Elliot.    
        "When you brought up the idea of music this 
morning, it hit me. I guess I've been so busy 
<looking> that I didn't see something sitting right 
under my nose.  Elizabeth has mentioned that Elliot's 
showing, much to her delight, an interest in music.  
I hadn't thought about the flute for years, but this 
morning, thanks to you, it came back to me.  I think 
Elliot might enjoy having something basic to 
experiment with."  Nick had turned abruptly from 
Natalie as if to physically push the longing and pain 
of unborn children from his thoughts and took his 
place back by the fireplace.  He stood with his back 
to her, and she got up from the couch to join him.  
As she approached, she heard his muffled, "I hope he 
treasures it and keeps it always."
        She stopped just behind him and put a 
comforting hand on his arm.  "Giving the flute means 
more than presenting a child with a simple gift for 
his birthday, doesn't it, Nick? This is a chance to 
fulfill Philip's wish for his creation, isn't it?  A 
chance to pass the flute on to, perhaps not <your> 
son, but to a boy who has endeared himself to you 
almost as strongly as a son would.  A chance to see 
the flute become part of a family's history, to be 
cherished and passed on like Philip had wanted.  And 
in a small way, a chance for you to become part of 
that normal, family history as the story of how the 
flute came to be in the family filters down through 
time.  Or maybe it's not that involved.   Perhaps 
it's simply a hope that Elliot will prize it, and one 
day, in the spirit of love in which it was presented 
to him, give it to one of his children."
        Nick turned his head to look at the 
understanding woman standing behind him, an 
astonished smile on his face.  "You're amazing, Nat.  
Sometimes I think you can read my mind."
        She handed the flute back to him as she 
thought,  //Oh, how I wish.  It would make things so 
much easier sometimes.//  But Natalie kept that 
desire to herself as she spoke.  "Not as amazing as 
all that, Nick.  Your words are very revealing, and I 
know how you feel about Elliot."
        He turned completely to face her.  "You're 
right, as usual.  He's very special to me, and I 
would love to see him enjoy the flute and someday 
give it to a child of his own."
        Natalie watched the vampire's features soften 
as he talked about the youngster, and once again 
found herself amazed by this self-called evil 
creature's capacity for love and tenderness.  She 
wished with every fiber that he could be convinced of 
his goodness.  It annoyed her how he was always more 
than willing to chide himself for the wickedness of 
his past and the darkness that still, he believed, 
colored his soul, but was never prepared to 
acknowledge the light that shown brightly from his 
heart.  A light, she believed, that would one day 
help them banish the vampire forever.
        A little of the gentleness vanished from 
Nick's expression.  He was silent for a moment and 
then continued.  "I suppose I'm being selfish by 
giving it to him.  It's something I want to do very 
much, but I can't help wondering if he'll really like 
the present.  I don't want to disappoint him.  Maybe 
I'm giving the flute more for my satisfaction than 
for Elliot's?"
        Nat smiled tenderly at Nick's concern.  
Second guessing himself and questioning his motives 
weren't new practices for this vampire.  Heaven 
forbid he should give himself a break and accept that 
what he was doing was a simple gesture of love.  But, 
she had to admit, she could see his point.  Although 
selfish struck her as rather a harsh word.  After 
all, the flute was probably worth a pretty penny, so 
in that regard it was a very generous gift indeed.  
Still, Natalie also had her doubts as to Elliot's 
reaction to the instrument.  At his age, boys didn't 
usually think much of things unless they talked, 
squeaked, buzzed, rang, rolled on four wheels or were 
played on a computer.  The gratification Nick would 
receive from giving the gift might not extend to the 
recipient.  However, if Elliot's interest in music 
was in earnest, the gift would, more than likely, 
have the future Nick hoped. 
        The doctor shook her head.  "You're not being 
selfish, Nick.  But...Elliot's...young.  Don't be too 
disappointed of he's not as taken with the flute as 
you would like.  If his fascination with music is 
sincere, and he sticks with it, you've chosen the 
perfect gift, and he'll grow to appreciate it more as 
he gets older.  If not...well, I still have the 
feeling he'll like anything his favorite police 
detective gives him."
        Natalie's positive words were met with an 
appreciative smile as Nick leaned forward to place a 
light kiss on her cheek.  "Thanks, Nat.  I hope 
you're right."
        She tossed him a playfully indignant frown.  
"Wha'da you mean, you hope?  Of course I'm right.  
Didn't you just tell me I usually am?"  With an 
impish wink, she turned to walk into the kitchen 
where she'd left her bag on the table.  She started 
rummaging through it and pulled out a plastic 
container.  Looking up from the bag, she watched Nick 
put the flute on an end table and follow her.  He 
stood on the opposite side of the table as she 
offered him the large cup.  "I've made another 
adjustment in the recipe, not as much of the iron 
supplement.  Hopefully it'll go down a tad easier."
        The immortal pulled his yuck-a-protein-drink 
face.   "I'm not really hungry right now, Nat.  Can I 
try it later?"
        A pang of disappointment accompanied her 
frown.  He was stalling.  The protein shakes had been 
going over <very> poorly recently, more so than was 
usual.  His attitude toward her cocktails could never 
have been described as enthusiastic, but she could 
hardly get him to take a sip of one nowadays.  She 
was sure she could open the refrigerator and find the 
drinks she'd given him last week, untouched.  He just 
didn't seem to want to try anymore, and it frightened 
her.  She could feel him slipping further and further 
away.
        The strained look on Nick's face faded into a 
relenting grin.  "Okay, Nat.  Hand it over."
        Her expression brightened as she gladly 
passed the container to him.  Unconsciously biting 
her lower lip, Nat watched him open the lid and take 
a sniff.  He wrinkled his nose in light-hearted 
disapproval before putting the cup to his mouth.  
Much to her amazement, he finished the shake in one 
long drink. When he lowered the cup, Natalie eagerly 
searched his face for a reaction.  The disgust that 
usually went along with his consumption of one of her 
concoctions  was surprisingly absent.  He certainly 
didn't look as if he <loved> it, but the lack of 
blatant displeasure was in itself heartening.  
        It quickly became apparent, however, that he 
was fighting to keep a straight face, trying to mask 
the nausea the drink made him feel.  As she felt some 
of the air leave her balloon of encouragement, Nat 
also acknowledged how the attempted cover-up struck 
her as odd.  When it came to the blood alternatives 
she made for him, Nick had never tried to hide his 
dislike before now.  He had no compunction about 
telling her how awful he thought every one of her 
mixtures was.  For whatever reason, this morning he 
appeared to be trying very hard not to disappoint 
her.  She recalled his unwillingness to confide in 
her when she first arrived and wondered if this extra 
effort had anything to do with that.
        //Come on, Lambert.  Give the Sherlock Holmes 
impression a rest, will ya?  He's trying, for cryin' 
out loud.  That's all you want, isn't it?//  It was 
true.  He finished the shake and, so far, had said 
nothing negative about the experience.  She supposed 
she shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.  At 
this point, she would take anything she could get, 
even though her gut was telling her that this effort 
wasn't whole-hearted and probably wouldn't last past 
her walking out the door.
        "That wasn't too bad, Nat.  Not <exactly> 
appetizing, but not too bad." Turning, Nick walked to 
the sink where he started rinsing out the container.
        "What?  No derogatory remark?  And you 
actually finished it?  Well, it's not glowing 
acceptance by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm 
pleasantly surprised.  Now...."  She walked over to 
the refrigerator, opened it and proved  her suspicion 
correct.  The two drinks she'd given him a few days 
before were still sitting in the same place she'd put 
them.  "If I could just get you to drink them when 
I'm not around, we'd really be making some progress."  
        Nat carried the two spoiled shakes to the 
sink.  As she opened the lids and began pouring the 
rancid liquid down the drain, she slid the detective 
a sideways glance.  "Nick, you do want to keep 
trying, don't you?  I can't accomplish anything on my 
own.  It's <your> life we're trying to change."  She 
paused and Nick remained silent.  Putting the empty 
containers in the sink, she turned to face him.  
"<We> are trying, aren't we?"  She'd already put some 
form of this question to him several times over the 
past year, and each time he had either changed the 
subject or given her a half-hearted 'of course', or 
words to that effect.  Neither of these responses had 
made her feel overly confident in his continued 
desire, but he hadn't told her no, and that was all 
the encouragement she needed to keep on working and 
hoping.  And here they were again.  She held her 
breath as she waited for his answer.
        He didn't look at her as he finished cleaning 
the containers and put them on a dishtowel to dry.  
When, after what seemed like an eternity, he finally 
turned his attention to her, Natalie heard him draw a 
slow, deep breath.  The sound reminded her of a 
person mentally preparing themselves to tell a friend 
bad news, and the doctor's body instantly stiffened 
in reaction.  She studied Nick's beautifully 
expressive face and tried to gauge what he was about 
to say.  God, he looked so very tired and...defeated?  
She prayed silently.   //Please don't let that be 
defeat I see in his eyes.//
        Nick's expression remained pensive as his 
eyes raked Natalie's concerned face.  She watched him 
slowly take stock of her features and wondered how 
deeply he could see into her heart.   She wasn't 
attempting to hide anything fFrom him.  It was all in 
her face for him to see.  The love.  The hope.  The 
promise.  And the fear.  His gaze moved from the soft 
curls at her forehead, to her eyes and then lingered 
a moment on her mouth as it trembled ever so slightly 
with the intense emotion she was feeling, before his 
examination returned to her eyes.  The inspection 
almost felt like a physical caress, and Natalie 
thought she saw some of the earlier desire return to 
his face.  He closed his eyes and seemed to struggle 
against the dangerous emotion.  When he opened them 
again, she noted that he had successfully overpowered 
the feeling.  The want had disappeared.  The ghost of 
an apologetic smile touched his mouth before he 
finally spoke.  "I know I haven't been the most 
cooperative patient, Nat.  And I'll admit the 
setbacks have strengthened my doubts about the 
possibility of ever reaching the goal, but I haven't 
given up.  Not yet."
        Some of the tension left Natalie as she 
listened to Nick's answer.  She gradually released 
the breath she'd been holding in and felt the 
stiffened muscles in her back relax.  His reply 
wasn't as ardent as she would have hoped, but it was 
basically what she wanted to hear.
        Nick read the apparent relief on the 
coroner's lovely face and reached out to slide a 
gentle finger down her soft cheek, his hand coming to 
rest under her chin.  "It may not look like it 
sometimes, Nat, but <we> are trying."
        Natalie tried to ignore the chill of pleasure 
his touch evoked as she finally allowed herself a 
half smile.  "I know it's been hard lately, Nick.  
Just how hard, I won't even pretend to comprehend.  
Doubts are only natural, and I'm not going to stand 
here and tell you that I haven't had any of my own.  
But underneath the hesitation and uncertainty, deep 
inside myself, I <believe> that we'll reach the goal, 
that you'll get your mortality back.  And you have to 
believe in it just as strongly if you ever hope to 
achieve that end."   She took the hand from her face 
and wrapped it in both of her own.  "We have to have 
faith and keep striving.  We'll get there.  I know we 
will."
        She watched as he looked down at the small 
hands that held his in their comforting grasp.  
"Strong, sweet, Natalie.  Your strength of conviction 
never ceases to astonish me."  He paused as his gaze 
once again met hers.  "I envy you that certitude.  
You're pretty incredible, Doctor Lambert."
        At that moment Natalie did the most horribly 
embarrassing, inappropriate thing she possibly could 
have done.  She'd felt it coming.  She tried to hold 
it back, but it wouldn't be stifled.  And before she 
knew it, it was too late.  As she listened to Nick's 
wonderfully kind words, she yawned.  She yawned!  
//Unbelievable, Lambert.//  Instantly bringing a hand 
up to cover her mouth, she felt the heat rise in her 
cheeks.  The long shifts had finally caught up with 
her, and the exhaustion had suddenly swept over her 
in one forceful wave.
        For a second, the detective appeared to be as 
aghast as Nat by the blatant display of fatigue.  But 
he soon recovered and let out a heart-felt laugh as 
he teased,  "Well, I hope I'm not boring you too 
much, Doctor Lambert.  I wouldn't want to keep you up 
or anything."
        The crimson in Natalie's cheeks deepened.  
"Nick, I'm really very sorry.  I--"  Another yawn 
interrupted her apology.  "Oh, boy.  I guess I'm a 
lot more tired than I thought."
        Nick removed his hand from her grasp and 
walked to the chair where she had laid her coat.  He 
held the garment open in an invitation for her to put 
it on, a wicked grin brightening his face.  He was 
obviously enjoying this very much.  "I think it's 
time you headed home, milady.  Sun's been up for a 
little while, and we both need some sleep before our 
shifts tonight."       
        Jo