For those who have asked, this is the addenda to A Richness in Her
Smile, a corollary view of Nick from Nat's perspective.  I hope you
enjoy it.

As before, I don't own anybody.  The timeline is ambiguous, but it's
pre-LK, kind of third season-y.  Permission given to archive at Mel's
site.  Anyone else, please ask.  (This also goes for Richness, which I
forgot to attach permission to.)

A Sweetness in His Pain

by

Lori Dehn

Natalie closed the last file on her desk.  Her work was done for the
evening.  At least, the work she was paid to do was done.   Opening her
bottom desk drawer, she removed the journal where she recorded her
research into Nick's cure.  She opened it to the first page, where she
had started on her birthday several years ago.

She stroked the smooth paper with her finger.  She remembered stroking
Nick's face in much the same way that night.  He had been so...helpless.
She smiled.  Imagine applying such a word to a vampire.  But it did fit.
Nick might be very strong, he might be immortal, he might have powers
she envied and feared, but that did not change the fact that he was
defenseless in the face of his "curse."

She knew that was what he thought of his condition.  That he was cursed.
That he was a curse in return.  And while she did hope to cure him, she
knew she could never think of his vampirism in those terms.  Nick had
brought so much to her life.  He had given her friendship, and love, and
passion, even if it was a passion they had to deny.  And if Nick had not
been a vampire, if he hadn't been "cursed,"  how much would she be
missing?  Would she even know what love and passion were?

She closed the book with a wry chuckle.  LaCroix thought he was
torturing Nicholas by keeping them apart.  She knew both of them
believed Nick had erased her memories of that night at Azure, and she
intended to keep it that way.  But there were days she wished she could
thank LaCroix, and Janette, as much as that would pain her, for bringing
Nick across all those years ago, so that he could be a part of her life
now.

The picture on the corner of her desk caught her eye.  She had taken it
recently at the loft.  It was a picture of Nick, painting.  He hadn't
known she was taking it.  Oh, he had known she was there.  But he hadn't
known about the camera until the flash went off.  The camera proved
quicker than the vampire, capturing a picture of an artist hard at work,
a moment before he glanced up in surprise, his eyes rimmed in gold.

This was the Nick she loved.  Not LaCroix's Nicholas.  Not Janette's
Nicolas.  They wanted him for who he was to them.  Son.  Lover.  This
was Nick the way he was to himself.  An artist.  A student.  A musician.
A man.  A boy.

Yes, a boy.  Nick's eternal youth was not merely a symptom of his
immortality.  There was so much of the child in him, with his sense of
humor, and his generosity.  His indulgences and his sacrifices were both
rooted in his boyishness.  And anyone who had ever worked with children
would recognize his guilt, the guilt of a child for things beyond his
control, who believes he is bad because he has been told so.

Natalie knew better, because she had seen his pain.  She had seen it
when she asked him to bring Richard across, and when the thing that
Richard became died.  She had seen it when Schanke and Cohen were
killed, and when he spoke of Daniel and Andre and Fleur.  And she had
seen the puzzlement as the memories of what he was came back to him
after his brush with amnesia.

That was when it was most profound, when the confusion was replaced with
knowledge, and then with pain.  In that moment, it was all new to him,
and 800 years of shutters and shadows weren't there to hide it.  There
was regret and sorrow, tempered by the pain of everything that was lost,
and everything that could never be.

LaCroix thought Nicholas maudlin and angst-ridden over things that were
unchangable.  Natalie knew that wasn't all there was to it, though.  She
knew that the Nick she knew now was the Nick he had always wanted to be.
"To protect and serve" was as much the code of the knight he had been as
the police officer he had become.  The desire to help was so strong in
Nick that the thought of causing pain to anyone was devestating, no
matter the reason.  And that was why his pain was so...appealing.

She couldn't explain that thought.  Appealing?  That couldn't be the
right word.  But it was, somehow.  There was a sweetness to Nick's pain,
like a sad ending to a good book, or a wonderful movie that makes you
cry for no reason.  It was endearing and enchanting.

"Like a puppy with sad eyes,"  she said softly, tracing the frame of the
picture.

"If that's what you think, you aren't ever allowed in my home with a
camera again."

Glancing up, she saw Nick standing in the doorway.  "How long..."

He smiled.  "Just now.  I wanted to see if I could give you a ride
home."

She smiled back.  He did have such beautiful eyes.  Picking up her
purse, she got up and walked to the door.  Impulsively, she put her arm
through his and cuddled herself close to him.  "I thought you'd never
ask."



Lori Dehn
Dark Knightie 'n Nat Packer with definite
Ravenette and Vaquera tendencies and
just a smackerel of Cousin for "flavor"


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