Hi all, I thought I'd de-lurk and rise to the challenge.  This is my first
story here, so be kind.  It's sort of a tongue-in-cheek, scenes from the life
of, kind of thing I whipped up late (really late) last night/early this
morning before I pack up my computer to move.  (it's find the allusion
time--they're actually pretty blatant).  Hope you enjoy it, at least
somewhat.
 
 
Scenes from the End Time
A forever not tale.
By M. Lopez
 
(1.  Natalie's Apartment)
Natalie looked down at the stack of mail lying on her desk and grimaced.  It
had been nearly a week since she had sorted through it.  The only reason why she
even picked the mail up daily was because the mailman had resorted to leaving
nasty little notes threatening to send her mail back to sender if she didn't
empty it out; she wasn't sure how legal that tactic was, but she wasn't about to
test him.  With a sigh, she fanned out the letters and began to sort them under
the categories of debts, ads, medical mail, and personal mail.  As usual, the
personal mail stack was losing the height race--debt, debt, ad, ad, ad,
personal, ad, ad.  In mid-sort, Natalie paused, her attention caught by one particular
piece of mail.  It was a pale pink envelope with a handwritten address, no return
address, and foreign stamps.  The handwriting was maddeningly familiar, but
she could not quite place its owner; and who did she know from the
Philippines?  Intrigued, she dropped the rest of the mail back in their
unorganized state and took the pink envelope with her to the couch.
 
"Oh my god," she gasped as she the first line.  Her heart leaped, and her
head began to spin. "He's alive?"
 
(2.  Morgue)
Nick was in a good mood.  He had caught a particularly elusive drug dealer
earlier that evening, and Schanke's wife was pregnant.  Myra's pregnancy
should not really have been that great news to him since it would mean a more
distracted partner, but for some reason, the idea that one of his closest
friends was procreating just gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling inside.  Now he wanted
to share his good humour with Natalie.
 
Nick slowly opened the lab door and peered in.  Natalie was  poking and prodding at a 
body lying on the examining table.  "Hey, Nat.  Wanna grab a bite to eat?"
 
"Just a second, Nick," she answered as she continued her examination.  Nick,
knowing better than to interrupt her while she worked, sat at her desk and
waited.  A few minutes later, Natalie pulled her gloves off and turned to
him.

"Did I hear you say 'eat'?"
 
"Well, you eat, I'll watch."
 
"Oh no, when I eat, you eat," she said as she stepped out of her blue plastic
lab coat and began rummaging through her desk drawers. "Lemme just look for my
purse."
 
"Don't worry about it.  My treat."
 
She looked up at him and drawled, "Oooo, big spender tonight are we.  So why
are we in such a good mood today?"
 
Nick laughed and began to describe his day.
 
(3. local all night deli)
"What's wrong, Nat?"
 
Nat looked up from her cola and shrugged.  "Nothing.  What makes you think
something's wrong?"
 
"It's been nearly twenty minutes since we left your office and you've hardly
spoken two words to me. You seem, well, distracted," he said, slightly
annoyed.  "Have you heard anything that I've told you?"
 
"You caught the bad guys and Schanke's dog just had puppies."
 
Nick gritted his teeth. "Myra's pregnant!"  He "was" in a good mood before,
but Natalie somehow quelched that.  And he wanted to know why.  He was
usually able to make her forget her work and her worries with his attempts at
eating solid food, but this time that didn't seem to work.
 
"Oh..." Natalie mouthed as she looked up at him.  "Sorry."
 
Nick reached across the table and took her hands in his as he repeated his
question, "what's wrong, Natalie?  Whatever it is, you know I'll do anything
I can to help you."
 
Nodding wordlessly, she pulled her hands away from his and reached into her
purse.  She retrieved a small pink envelope and handed it to him.
 
 
"Who is he?" Nick finally said after reading its contents.
 
"He is... was a fiance of mine,"  she began nervously.  She looked out of the
window into the empty street.  She still wasn't sure it was wise of her to
have shown Nick the letter, but he was her closest friend and she needed someone
to talk to.  "We were supposed to marry after I finished medical school."
 
Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing.  Natalie had been engaged once,
why had she never told him about this?
 
"What happened?"
 
Natalie bit her lower lip and continued, "He decided to join a Catholic
missionary group in Burma while I was in my fourth year of med school.  Three
months after he left, he was killed by a band of terrorists. His body was
never found."
 
"Because he wasn't killed."
 
Nat turned toward him and answered shakily, "No, he wasn't."
 
Nick's mind reeled.  A stab of apprehension shot through him as he watched
her pick up her glass and drink the water from the melted ice cubes.  For the
first time since he had known Nat, he was afraid of losing her.  She had dated once
a few years ago, but that was different. That person had been a part of her
present, something he could confront.  And, besides, the man turned out to be
a serial killer.  The Letter was a voice from her past, somewhere he could not
go.  And with this person, Natalie had created a relationship so strong that she had
considered marriage.
 
"He's arriving tomorrow," she said finally.
 
"You've spoken with him?"
 
"He called yesterday, and left a message with my machine.  He asked me to 
meet him at Danelo's tomorrow evening," she answered. "He's already made
reservations."
 
"Will you go?"
 
"I don't know," she whispered softly. "I really don't know."
 
(4. Danelo's Restaurant)
Natalie stood nervously outside the restaurant.  It had taken all of her will
to come here to meet him.  She really wasn't sure why she came.  When she had
first read the letter, she had believed it to be a prank, but the letter spoke of
things only Emil would have known.  She should have been angry, after all, it
had been nearly eight years since they had last spoken, and in all that time
she had believed him to be dead.  But oddly enough, she wasn't.  What she felt
was curiousity. Why hadn't he contacted her earlier?  Why now?  His letter had
not explained his long silence, but merely apologized for it and asked her to
meet him here where he promised to explain everything.  What had happened to him
in the last few years?  Did he still the same way about her now as he did those
many years ago?  How did she feel?   She had come close to turning around
many times.   But she was here now.  She opened the door and walked in.
 
"Emil Dupres?" she asked the matre'd.
 
"This way please."  A young lady lead her to the rear of the restaurant and
stopped at a small table occupied by a thin blond stranger.
 
"Mr. Dupres, your guest has arrived."  Natalie stared at the man the waitress
had just spoken to.  

"Hello, Nat"
 
"Emil?"  It was him.  His features were the same, sharp and darkly handsome,
framed by that oh-so blond hair. He was much thinner than he was when he left
for Asia, gaunt almost, and his hair was was no longer the long thick mane
she remembered, but the man before her was Emil.
 
"I would stand up, but as you can see," he waived down at the wheelchair he
sat on.  In her surprise, she had not noticed it.
 
"No, don't worry.  I can..." she said, her voice shaking.
 
Emil watched hr as she placed her purse on the table, her hands trembling
slightly.  "You look as beautiful as ever."
 
For a few seconds, Natalie didn't respond.  She merely stared at the man
opposite her.  Those eyes, she thought.  Those beautiful blue eyes were still
the same.  There was something there, a sadness that wasn't there before, but
they were still the eyes she remembered.  "And you look like a toad," she
responded drily.
 
Emil laughed at the old joke.  "And this?" he gestured toward his wheelchair.
 
"Hell, it's not as if you were allergic to the sun or anything like that."
 
It suddenly struck Natalie how much Emil and Nick resembled each other.
 
 
(5. One month later--Nick's loft)
 
Nick stood at the top floor of his loft and looked down at his living room.
 It would be the last time he would do this.  Tonight he was moving on.
 
With the deliberate movements of an old man, he walked to the top step of the
starcase and sat down.  For the first time in eight centuries, he truly felt
old. He lowered his gaze to a photograph he held in his hand--one taken of him and
Natalie at a precinct function she dragged him to last year.  Natalie.  She
had become the center of his being in these past few years.  She had cared for
him in a way no other mortal had before, and although he could never tell her so,
he reciprocated those feelings.  Now she found someone else to care for, someone
else who needed and wanted her, and who had no qualms returning her
affection.  It was ironic really.  For years, it had been *his* past that had
been in the way of his hopes and dreams and *Natalie* had given him the hope he
needed; but in the end, it was *Natalie's* past that stood in the way of his
happiness.  But if Emil died?  Nick shook his head to clear his mind of the
thought before it fully formed.  "I must leave this city before I get anymore
such ideas."
 
He picked up the knapsack lying at his feet and placed the picture inside it.
 Then quickly, before he could change his mind, he flew to the window and out into
the night.
 
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OK, so I was really tired of having Nat moon over Nick. ;-)
 
please send comments to:  delanoche@aol.com