From: "Anthea" <anthea@ihug.co.nz> 
To: <FKarchiver@fkfanfic.com> 
Subject: New story to be submitted. 
Date: Sun, 2 May 1999 15:12:18 +1200 


No, the FK characters aren't mine, I'm just taking them out to play 
for a while, and will send them home when I'm done.  Catherine, 
however, is mine - if you want to know more about her, have a look 
at Conversation With The Vampire or Meetings.

Warning:  contains violence and a few bad words.


SCUMBAG DU JOUR


<Hungry, hungry, hungry.  Who's on the menu tonight?  Scumbag 
du jour, where are you?  Look, I'm just waiting here for you - 
woman on her own, must be lost, bad part of town, no cops likely - 
easy meat, guys, so where are you?> 

As she wandered the back streets in the dark hours before dawn, 
Catherine Saveri was currently engaged in the peculiar game she 
played with herself to make hunting more acceptable.  Not 
comfortable with random killing, but not satisfied with a strict diet of 
donated and bottled blood either, she'd taken to playing the game 
she'd christened `Scumbag Du Jour' when the craving for fresh blood 
became too great.  It basically involved wandering around looking 
lost and helpless and alone until someone (See: scumbag) took 
advantage of that, and, by attacking her, ended up as dinner.  It was 
also a fair bet, she'd reasoned, that the people who did that sort of 
thing weren't prominent members of society who'd be greatly missed, 
so as long as she was discreet and disposed of the bodies adequately - 
well, it worked for her.

<Aha, what have we here?>  She'd detected two sets of heartbeats 
close by.  <And, oh look, a nice dark alleyway, how convenient.  
Two?  Why not be greedy - it's not as if I'm counting calories.>   
Trying to keep the smile off her face, she walked past the entrance to 
the alleyway, the high heels she always wore on these expeditions 
clicking and echoing.  As expected, the two men burst out, grabbed 
her, and started dragging her back into the darkness.  All going 
according to plan.  What happened next was not.  Not satisfied with 
the odds two-to-one in their favour, one of the men had also armed 
himself with a can of Mace, which he shot directly into Catherine's 
face ....

The pain was paralysing, unbelievable.  Choking and retching, eyes 
streaming and blinded, she stumbled, then fell, screaming and 
snarling between coughs, lashing out blindly.  <OH SHIT, what was 
that?!  I can't SEE!  Oh God, it HURTS!  You *bastards*, where are 
you?>   She was painfully aware that, even if she could concentrate 
enough to fly, and manage to get away without knocking herself 
senseless by flying blind, she'd be leaving behind witnesses ...  and 
she couldn't do that.  She'd have to deal with this here and now, on 
her own.  She realised that, for almost the first time since becoming a 
vampire, she was afraid.  She'd hoped never to feel that emotion 
again.

<OK, girl, you've got to concentrate now, calm down.  Where are 
they?  Listen for them, listen for the heartbeats ... *Christ* this hurts 
... close your mouth, they musn't see ... owwww ...  there's one now 
... coming closer ... wait for it ... wait for the other ... you need to get 
them both at once ... ohh they're going to pay for this .... they're 
going to pay so bad ...>

She lay curled on the ground, hands cupped over her face, trying to 
wipe away the streaming tears that still blinded her, and also to hide 
the fact that her fangs were now fully extended.  She listened for the 
heartbeats - there was one, he was right next to her now, close enough 
to touch - he *was* touching her.  Creep.  Stifling a furious growl, 
she forced herself to wait, wait till the other one was in range.  

<Hurry up, you bastard ... can't let your friend have all the fun now 
... wait ... yes!  *There* you are - GOT YOU!>

Snarling ferociously, she grabbed at the pair.  The one furthest from 
her had his head slammed viciously into the ground, smashing his 
skull instantly.  The other one she didn't let off so easily.  She drove 
her fangs into his throat, not just drinking, but tearing , ripping at the 
flesh, clawing at him, losing herself in the red rage, forgetting her fear 
and pain ...

When it was finally over, when she was lying, exhausted, face-down 
across the body, the reality of the situation began to assert itself.  
Here she was, in an alley with two dead bodies - two very *messy* 
dead bodies, she corrected, and probably a messy alley too - dawn 
couldn't be that far off, and she still couldn't see.  There was no way 
she could clean up the mess and dispose of the bodies blind, and she 
had no idea how long the stuff would take to wear off.  She was 
suddenly very afraid indeed.  She doubted that what she'd done could 
be passed off as a human attack, even a human hopped up on 
whatever the current drug of choice on the street was.  And if she was 
found with the bodies before sunrise .... Well, whatever story she 
thought up, however convincing, wouldn't be worth much after she 
combusted.   <At least if the sun gets me, the Enforcers won't.  Oh 
hell, I am so scared.  Please, Lucien, Nick, somebody, if you heard 
me then or can hear me now - I need help so bad.>  Feeling her way 
along the walls, she dragged the two bodies back to what she hoped 
was the furthest, darkest corner, then hunched herself against a wall, 
waiting to see what would happen next, praying that - well, praying 
that vampires were still allowed to pray. 

She had been heard.  It had been a quiet night at the precinct, so Nick 
had gone to the morgue to see Natalie.  In the middle of  a 
comfortable chat, Natalie had turned away for a moment, and was 
understandably shocked when she turned back to find Nick growling 
and golden-eyed.  "Nick!  What - ."    

"It's Catherine - something's wrong.  I think she's in trouble."  He 
was having difficulty sorting the emotions currently coming through 
from her; there was anger, terrible blood-lust, and finally fear.  Not 
good. 
 "How do you know - oh.  Of course."  Natalie recalled that, as 
Nick's newest `sister', they shared a kind of psychic connection, and 
that he must be picking up something from her right now.

"It's bad, Nat.  I have to go."  He was definitely worried now.

"Sure - I hope she's OK."  Natalie and Catherine had met a few times 
now, and Natalie had been surprised at how easy she was to talk to, 
how *human* she'd seemed.  Perhaps it was because she'd been a 
vampire for such a short time that she hadn't acquired that distant air 
they all had - even Nick, at times.

"So do I, Nat."   And he was gone.

Nick arrived just after LaCroix.  He stood for a moment, horrified, 
fighting for control against the overpowering smell of blood.  
Catherine had ripped straight through her victim's carotid, and 
arterial blood had spouted pretty much everywhere, including all 
over Catherine.  It was on her clothes, her hair was matted with it, 
and her face was stained with the tracks of the streaming blood-tears. 

She was in LaCroix's arms, shaking and distressed, eyes still 
squeezed shut.  He caught the end of what she was saying:  "- and I 
couldn't see, and I was s-so mad and so scared, I really lost it, a-and 
then I realised I couldn't - I still couldn't see to clean up, and I just 
didn't know what to do - ", she paused for breath, "- and I'm *so* 
glad you're here.  I'm sorry - sorry to be such a nuisance."

She stopped again, lifting her head, sensing Nick's presence.  "Nick?  
Sorry about the mess - it can't be very pleasant for you."  Then she 
realised that she'd been thinking about the difficulty he'd be having 
as a vampire that didn't drink human blood; she'd completely 
forgotten that he could also be having some problems reconciling this 
with his mortal profession.  He had to have known what she'd been 
doing before tonight, but it had never been brought to his attention 
quite so forcefully before.  <Oh crap, this is getting worse by the 
minute.  Am I going to get staked for being careless, arrested for 
murder, or what?  Oh, I wish I hadn't got up this evening.>  Adding 
to her misery was the fact that the skin on her face and neck still 
itched and burned, her eyes were only just beginning to unsquint, and 
she felt generally sick - whether an effect of the Mace or the major 
adrenalin rush, both that generated by her own body and the one 
taken along with the blood.  Altogether, it was the worst night of her 
vampiric existence, even worse than the time she'd bitten an OD'ing 
junkie, and then thought she was going insane from the rush.

She sighed heavily, and leaned against LaCroix. <at least he didn't 
just leave me here to fry>   "So what now?", she asked.

"What now?", he repeated.

"Yeah - what now?  What are the consequences of being an idiot?"  
<Like I really want to know, but I guess I'll find out.>

"Ah.  I think Nicholas' disapproval will be quite punishment 
enough."

She caught the hint of humour in the cool tone, but didn't quite 
understand.

"Nicholas - will you be good enough to take Catherine home, while I 
deal with this."

He beckoned Nicholas forward.  He came, clearly reluctant, radiating 
disapproval and disappointment.

"Please stay with her until I return - I believe you will have a great 
deal you wish to say."

He smiled down at Catherine, and gently pushed her towards Nick, 
who took her arm distastefully, her clothes by now stiff and tacky 
with drying blood.

<Oh no!  How could he do this to me!  OK, so Nick maybe won't 
arrest me after all, but I'm going to get the Cow Lecture again!>, she 
wailed mentally, <and I know after all this he'll be hungry and 
cranky, and he's just going to *look* at me with that hurt, sad look, 
and make me feel twice as bad, and then he'll remind me of  how I 
was mortal just a short time ago, and then I'll promise to stick to 
bottled blood, but I know I won't ... oohhh ... could this evening 
possibly get any worse?   <And *stop listening to me*!>, she raged 
silently, knowing she was being childish, probably out of sheer relief, 
but still unable to wipe the pouty scowl off her face.

Seeing the expression of barely-suppressed amusement on Lacroix's 
face, she slouched and scowled even harder.  <Jerk>, she thought - 
*very very* quietly.

Silently, Catherine let herself be led away by Nick.  They took to the 
air almost immediately, but, exhausted by the emotional excesses of 
the night and the nearness of the approaching dawn, Catherine lagged 
badly.  Finally, Nick was forced to help her, almost carrying her the 
last few kilometres.  She let herself in without a word, expecting Nick 
to follow her, which he did.  She sighed, and headed for the shower, 
hoping to avoid the impending confrontation.  She needed a shower 
anyway; she was filthy, and beginning to stink like a slaughterhouse.

"You sit down right now", Nick said coldly.

"Nick, I need a shower and some clean clothes.  Give me fifteen 
minutes", she replied wearily.

"I said *now*!"  He moved at the same time, blocking her path, and 
pushing her into the nearest chair.

<Great, something else to clean up>, she thought irrelevantly, more 
than a little afraid of this unsmiling, cold-eyed Nick.

"Catherine, how could you have done that?", he demanded.

"How?  Easy.  I was scared, hurt and hungry.  Go figure."

"No, why were you there in the first place?  What were you thinking 
of, out there alone, at that time of night?"

"Nick, stop talking like a big brother.  Or a cop!  What do you think 
I was doing?  I was hungry!", she snapped.

"Hungry?  With the cellar of the Raven at your disposal?  Don't give 
me that."

"For God's sake, do I have to rub your nose in it?  OK, I was 
*hunting*!  I was hungry and I went hunting.  Satisfied?"

"Catherine, you *know* you don't have to hunt.  I've told you that 
before.  You don't have to hunt, you don't even need human blood to 
survive.  You know this."

"I know I don't *have* to", she said, deliberately mocking his tone.  
"Has it ever occurred to you that I *want* to?  That I might *like* 
it?"   

"How can you?!", Nick burst out.  "You were mortal such a short 
time ago.  I know you never harmed anyone in all your mortal life - 
how can you sit there now and tell me you enjoy killing other living 
beings?  Have you lost all trace of your humanity?"

They were both agitated by now, both angry, and completely unable 
to see the other's point of view.

"Humanity!  You - you *hypocrite*!", she spat.  "How dare you 
preach to me about humanity?  You may be all holier-than-thou and 
thou-shalt-not-kill now, but what about your six hundred year-odd 
killing spree!"  Knowing that she'd probably gone too far, but too 
angry to stop, Catherine continued.  "You followed these - these 
vampire instincts for *centuries* and you expect me to suppress mine 
in a matter of *months*?  Get - get *real*, Nick!  I'm not yours, so 
don't tell me what to do and don't judge me!"

They were both on their feet, eyes blazing, Catherine spitting her 
words from behind extended fangs.

"Of course you're not mine - I would never have made you.  I'd 
sooner have seen you dead", Nick said coldly.

Catherine stared at him mutely for a moment.  "You - bastard.  
You'd rather I was rotting in a grave this minute.  Thank you so 
much.  I'm glad to know how you feel about me.  And of course, 
you'd rather be dust in a forgotten corner of a land that doesn't exist 
any more, wouldn't you?  I don't believe that for a moment, and I 
don't think you do either.  Why don't you stop deluding yourself?'

"So you know how I feel, do you?", Nick asked, his tone icy.  "I've 
borne this existence for eight hundred years, endured this darkness all 
these centuries, but you, on the strength of a few months, feel 
qualified to tell me how I feel."

Nick came closer, his eyes gold and inhuman, menacing.

Catherine backed up a few steps, intimidated, but temper still 
blazing, wiping out rational thought.

"Just answer me this then - if you're so bloody miserable, why 
haven't you just walked into the sun long before now?", she asked, 
voice dripping with contempt.

Oh shit.  That was it - she hadn't just burnt her bridges, she'd torched 
the gatehouse and dynamited the foundations too.  

<Get out now, Cath.  Make a run for it.  He looks like he's ready to 
tear your head off, and he could do it too.>

As they glared at each other, LaCroix strolled in, composed as ever, 
not looking as though he'd just disposed of two corpses - one of 
which had been torn almost to shreds, nor showing any awareness 
that his favourite son looked ready to stake his newest daughter.

"Well, mes enfants - having a pleasant chat?"

"Tell this child of yours not to presume to speak about matters she 
has no knowledge of", Nick growled from between clenched teeth.

"Indeed?"  LaCroix merely raised an eyebrow.  "And what do you 
have to say to that, ma petite?"  Catherine swallowed hard, suddenly 
feeling very much the lowest point of the triangle.  She closed her 
eyes and bowed her head, fighting to regain some measure of 
composure.

"I - I'm sorry, Nick.  I shouldn't have said that.  It was wrong of me, 
and I can only apologise.  I *am* sorry."   <And I hope you don't 
tear my head off.  God, what was I *thinking* of?  A vampire temper 
is one thing I could do without!>

She lifted her head, half-expecting to find Nick right in front of her 
with a broken-off chair-leg.  Instead, he was still standing, looking at 
her, although he did seem to have relaxed slightly.

"You talk to her, LaCroix.  Maybe she'll listen to you", he said, not 
even looking at Catherine as he spoke.

"But Nicholas, I already have, and she does.  Rather better, I might 
add, than you."

Nick frowned, uncomprehending.

LaCroix continued:  "One lesson you have repeatedly failed to learn, 
Nicholas.  Be true to your nature.  I rather believe that is what 
Catherine was doing tonight , though perhaps in a rather more - shall 
we say - *emphatic* manner than usual."

With that, LaCroix reached out, drawing Catherine to him and 
putting an arm around her shoulders.  Instead, however, of looking 
smug or `I told you so'-ish, she looked frankly terrified.  The thought 
of being caught up in a bout of sibling rivalry, particularly when 
one's sibling was some seven and a half centuries the senior, held no 
appeal at all.

Nick merely looked at LaCroix with disgust. "You've done it again. 
Corrupted another innocent. Destroyed everything that was good in 
her.  Will you never be satisfied?"

Catherine, now exhausted physically and emotionally, as well as 
being
thoroughly overwrought, couldn't the stop the tears falling at that. 
<This
is the third time tonight! Stop it, you big wuss, stop acting like ... like
a *girl*!> The self-recrimination didn't help.

"I'm not that bad", she faltered. "Nick, don't say that. I'm not ... he
didn't ... I ..."; she trailed off, staring at her bloodstained hands. She
brought them up to her face, slowly turning them, examining the 
palms, then
the backs, then the palms again, as if she'd never truly looked at them
before. She stared at the blood still splashed across them, dried under 
the
fingernails, ingrained into the lines on the palms ...

<Look at them. Look at *me*. Could I ever have done something 
like this
before? Maybe Nick's right. Maybe I am changed - corrupted. Maybe 
I would
be better off dead. Dear God, what's happened to me?>

Sensing the way his new daughter's thoughts were turning enraged 
LaCroix.
Eyes glowing, he snarled at Nick: "Keep your accusations and your 
foolish
clinging to mortal values to yourself! I will not tolerate you infecting
any other of my children with this, or with your interminable guilt. I
suggest you leave - *now*!"

"I have no wish to stay", Nick retorted, and left without a backwards 
glance.

Catherine collapsed entirely after Nick left. She fell to her knees, 
hands
clamped to the sides of her head as if to block out the unwelcome 
thoughts,
hating to show weakness in front of her master but unable to stop, 
unable to
recapture the anger that had fuelled her earlier confrontation with 
Nick.

"Tell me it's not true. Tell me I'm not - what he said. He - he's not
right, is he? Please tell me he's not." She stared pleadingly at 
LaCroix,
desperate for reassurance.

He looked at her, sighed, and shook his head slowly. "Sois tranquille, 
ma
petite, sois tranquille." There was usually trouble at some point, with
most young ones. Usually because of the kill. He'd been through it 
before,
and knew from experience that these feelings had to be nipped in the 
bud.
Otherwise - well, look at Nicholas. He sat down, made himself 
comfortable,
and launched into the familiar speech:

"These last embers of your mortal conscience take a little time before 
they
flare out completely. It's the guilt. You haven't quite shed your
mortality yet. You must kill this righteousness. Do it now, and you 
will
never question your nature again. But allow
your guilt to fester, to grow and strengthen, and there will be
consequences."

She looked at him tearfully, questioningly.

"Consequences of a type you need never experience, so long as you 
listen to
me, do as I say."

Catherine stared at him doubtfully for a moment. Then she said 
slowly, hopefully:
"So you don't think any less of me because of tonight?"

"For taking Nicholas' words so much to heart, I might. But for your 
earlier
actions, no. Why should I? Perhaps a little lacking in style, but quite 
natural."

He watched as Catherine thought about his words, smiling with 
approval as he
felt the relief and happiness flowing through her, saw her face begin 
to brighten.

She sighed shakily, and stood up. "It did feel good. But I've never ...
lost myself like that before. Never been so unaware of anything 
except the
blood." She was silent for a moment, reliving the utter fulfillment 
she'd
felt. Then she shook her head as if to clear it, and looked down at
herself. "Oh, I'm a *mess*! I *really* need a shower now", she said,
moving away, unbuttoning her blood-stained, torn, ruined shirt.

"It can wait, cherie. Come here", said LaCroix, holding out a hand to 
her.
She smiled, sighed with total content, shrugged off the remains of the 
shirt, and went to him.


THE END

Acknowledgements/apologies to the FK scriptwriters for pinching 
LaCroix's 'guilt' speech - I figure they did it better than I could. 

Hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please let me know - Anthea

anthea@ihug.co.nz ICQ 12553091