Date: Mon, 28 Apr 1997 20:48:16 -0600 Reply-To: Dorothy Elggren Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Dorothy Elggren Subject: Take Out - Part 1 of 4 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU This story is a bit different that what I've previously written--and I think I'll let the story speak for itself. My comments can be found at the end of part 4. Let me know what you think... Take Out - Part 1 copyright by Dorothy Elggren April 1997 Prologue Nick stared out the window into the waning night. Dawn's faint light was on the horizon's edge. And for the first time in a long time, he felt calm, almost peaceful. It might be the eye of the hurricane or, if he let it, this peace might be the peace at the end of the storm. The calm after the struggle. A smile touched his lips and twisted into a grimace. He turned away from the remnants of the night and made his way unerringly to the bottle sitting on the table. He turned a chair around and straddled it, wrapping his arms around the back. He rested his chin on the back of the chair and stared at the half-empty bottle remembering how the night had started... +++++ Nick slid the elevator door back in a single angry thrust. The door slammed protestingly into the wall. He didn't care. In a blur of motion, he was across the room yanking the refrigerator door open. Almost before the cork was out of the bottle, he'd downed the entire bottle, letting the blood give him respite from the hunger screaming at him. Another bottle followed. He slowed and stopped halfway through the third. Leaning against the wall, he felt wearied beyond belief. The bottle slid from his hand and fell to the floor unnoticed as Nick wiped his arm across his face, smearing the blood splattered there. He looked down at himself and suddenly ripped his spattered coat off; his bloodied shirt following it to the floor as he struggled to keep the beast in check. So intent was he on freeing himself from the blood that covered him, that he never heard the elevator's groaning ascent. Natalie walked in to see his shirt flutter to the ground. He looked up at her, eyes glowing green-gold, his fangs visibly denting his lower lip. "Nick?" she asked, stepping hesitantly into the loft, "are you okay?" She'd broken speed limits following Nick across the city. Yet now she was here, she was afraid to move, uncertain of what and who she would find. She'd come in the Caddy, grateful that Nick had left the keys behind when he'd flown away. Nick stared at her--like a predator. He eyed her assessingly, hungrily, almost coldly, and then he shut his eyes tightly and he covered his face with his hands. A groan escaped him and when he looked up again, pain radiated from him. Natalie relaxed unconsciously, never realizing how afraid she'd been. "Nick?" she asked again. "Natalie..." It came out on a soft exhalation of air. Nick looked at her in agony. "I couldn't hold it back any longer. I couldn't stand it. I needed to... I needed...." Nick looked away. Natalie closed the distance between them in a few hurried steps, to a few feet. She took in the pallor of his face, smeared with drying and dried blood. His skin gleamed pearly white in the light. The muscles of his chest and arms were taut, reflecting the battle Nick was fighting for control. Natalie reached out to touch him, soothe him, but Nick flinched backward. Natalie's hand hung hesitantly in the air for a few moments as they stared at each other. Then she reached down and picked up his bloody clothing. "Let me get this out of the way," she murmured. While Nick watched, unable to move or even protest, she found a garbage bag and thrust them into it. When she twisted the tie tightly around the sack, Nick visibly relaxed, his nostrils flared once more briefly--as if seeking the scent of blood, and then his eyes closed and he sank down to the floor and wrapped his arm around his knees, trying to keep from utter collapse. Natalie looked at him silently, then quickly, lightly ran up the stairs to his bedroom. Nick listened intently as she opened drawers and shut them. That was the closet door she was opening, now, he thought. Then he listened as her heels tapped down the stairs. She was standing in front of him. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. Tears made bloody tracks down his face. "C'mon, Nick," she said quietly, "let's get you to the couch." He allowed her to reach out and touch him at last. Now that the scent of blood was muted. He let her pull him to his feet and lead him to the couch. He sank down into the soft leather and put his face in his hands once more, but Natalie wouldn't let him wallow. "Nick," she said, pulling his hand away, "put this on. You'll feel better." He found a T-shirt in his hands. Sighing, he pulled it over his head and let it slide down his chest. Clothed once more, reality seemed to reassert itself and Nick found he could talk. "I'm sorry, Nat. It was just too much for me. I had to get out of there..." "I know. It's okay, Nick. You did fine. No one noticed anything. In fact, you did better than most would have done. I was really proud of you." Nick looked up quickly, searchingly, at that. "But I almost lost it, I almost..." "But you didn't. And that is what counts, Nick. You didn't. You had control, and you held on until you could get out of there." "Control," Nick said bitterly, staring at his hands. "When he fell into my arms, I almost took him. The blood--it was everywhere...his heart was still pumping. I wanted to take it. I wanted it so much, Nat. He was dying, and his blood was calling to me..." Nick choked and stopped. He looked up at her in anguish. Slowly, Natalie reached out and smoothed his hair back and sat down beside him. She pulled his head down onto her shoulder and he sank into her embrace, needing the comfort. His arms wrapped around her hesitantly and she stroked his head. He listened to her heart beat and inhaled the fragrance that was Natalie-- "It's not anyone's fault, really. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And if it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I'm the one who wanted some Chinese take-out. I'm the one that picked that particular place. There was no way to know that we would walk into something like that. There was no way to know." "I should have been paying attention...," Nick murmured against Natalie. "Stop that, Nick. Stop expecting perfection of yourself. You know damn well why you weren't paying attention. It was all that talk about take-out--and I was angry at you. All you were doing was being honest and I was being stupid and foolish, and... and..." "...and beautifully and normally mortal," Nick finished, sitting up and pulling her close to him. He kissed her hair. "I shouldn't have been telling you *that* anyway." Natalie pulled away and looked at him. "Yes, you should. Do you know how good that is for you to be able to trust someone and tell them what you are truly feeling? I'm sorry that I reacted the way I did. I just don't know how to react to things like that, sometimes. It makes me afraid." "And that's why I shouldn't have told you," Nick interrupted. "Stop that, Nick. How can I help you if I don't know what you really feel. If you deny those feelings, we can't figure out how to overcome them. It's my fault that I'm sometimes so stupid and phobic about these things." "Vampire-phobic," Nick said quietly, not looking at her. "No. Just phobic. Killing is killing--and humans, you might have noticed, do more of it than vampires do. Just look at the news sometime, Nick. I just didn't realize...I...I just forget sometimes that you are not human, Nick. You *act* human. You *feel* human. You..." "...I'm not human," Nick finished quietly. "I know. But I forget." Natalie looked at him remorsefully. But Nick actually smiled. "Thanks, Nat. That's the best thing you could've said. That you forget." He kissed her forehead, tenderly. "It means you see me as me, not a vampire, but as me. Thanks." Natalie smiled, grateful for his lightening spirits. "Nick," she began, when her beeper shrilled at her. She pulled it out of her pocket with a slight moue of annoyance. It got deeper as she looked at the message. Looking up at Nick, she asked, "Mind if I use the phone?" Nick gestured silently towards it. Two minutes later, Natalie hung up the phone with feeling. "Damn," she said. "I'm sorry, Nick, but I guess it's not my night off anymore. There's been a bus crash, and they've called everybody in. A lot of people have died..." she trailed off. Nick stood up and came around the sofa and put his arms around her. "It's all right, Nat. Don't worry. Go do what you need to do." Natalie leaned against him and murmured something unintelligible into his T-shirt. "What?" Nick asked. She leaned back and looked up at him. "I'm sorry about the take-out remark. I just wanted you to know. I'm sorry. I wasn't very understanding." Nick pulled her close and gently kissed her brow. "It's all right, Nat. Really." Natalie sighed and hugged him. She hoped it was okay. Only time would tell. She scooped her purse up off the floor and stopped. "Oh...um, Nick, could you give me a ride? I forgot, I came in your car." Nick smiled. "Sure, if you don't mind if I take five minutes to clean up?" he asked as he gestured to his still splattered face. "No. I don't mind," Natalie said. Nick took the stairs two at a time. He would have flown, but he didn't think that was such a good idea on top of the already bad mistakes of the evening. Five minutes later, his hair still wet from the shower, but feeling clean and almost able to face humanity again, Nick descended the stairs. Natalie stared in amazement. "How do you do that, Nick? It really isn't fair. Do you know how long it takes me to get ready?" Nick smiled as he escorted her out the door. "Yeah, hours..." "NICK!" Natalie protested as the elevator door shut. The loft was empty and quiet behind them. Only the bottle lying on the floor by the refrigerator hinted at the violent emotions of the last hour. End part 1 Send comments to delggren@es.com "Have I taught you nothing?" "You taught me to take what I desire." "I taught you to take what you need!" -- LaCroix and Nick, Blood Money Date: Mon, 28 Apr 1997 20:49:28 -0600 Reply-To: Dorothy Elggren Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Dorothy Elggren Subject: Take Out - Part 2 of 4 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Take Out - Part 2 copyright by Dorothy Elggren April 1997 Nick watched Natalie walk into the coroner's office through the Caddy's window with regret. His heart ached for Natalie, for himself, but nothing he could do would undo what had happened this evening. As he slid the Caddy back into traffic, his mind began to replay the events out in perfect detail. ***** "Do you mind if we stop and get some Chinese take-out, Nick?" Natalie asked as Nick put the Caddy in gear. "I meant to get something earlier, but I just didn't get there. There's a great little place I found on Taylor. It's called Hunan Gardens. Do you know where it is?" "Yeah. We'll be there in five minutes." "Thanks. Just for that, *you* can choose the movie." Natalie grinned. "I'm really hungry. You're sure you don't mind the smell in the Caddy?" Nick smiled as he glanced at Natalie. "No, just as long as you don't make me eat it." "Coward," Natalie said good-naturedly. "A little take-out would be good for you." "Not my kind of take-out," Nick muttered under his breath, as he slowed for a red light. "What?" Natalie asked, not sure she'd heard right. "Nothing," Nick said, trying to cover. The light turned green and he put the Caddy in gear. "That wasn't nothing. What do you mean your 'kind of take- out'?" Natalie asked twisting in her seat to get a better look at Nick. Nick was silent, wishing she'd drop it. Natalie looked at him, waiting for him to finish it. "C'mon, Nick, what did you mean by that? You're among friends here," she said. Nick glanced at her as he pulled the Caddy up in front of a fire-hydrant at Hunan Gardens. "What do you think, Nat?" he asked. "Take-out. For the last century I've been eating in--I sometimes..." Nick knew he should shut up, but he was in too far now to escape "...I don't know how to say this very well, but I get this desire for, um, take-out, too." Natalie was silent, incredulous, at what he was saying. Very carefully, she repeated his words. "Take-out?" Nick wouldn't meet her eyes. He looked out the Caddy's window as he killed the ignition. "Are you saying that you are feeling a desire to go back to getting your 'food' directly from the source?" Natalie demanded, feeling anger and fear warring inside her. Nick got out of the Caddy and found Natalie already staring at him over the rag-top. "Nick?" Nick closed his eyes. This soul-baring was *not* a good idea. What made him start this tonight, anyway? "Nat, the desire is always there. You know that. I can usually ignore it..." "Well, that's good, because we are not talking about McDonald's here" Natalie said, the words coming out with an edge she couldn't help as she came around the front of the Caddy. Nick grabbed her arm as she walked past him, anger in every line of her body. "Nat, stop that! I'm still what I am! You know that! An alcoholic doesn't stop wanting a drink, does he? But that doesn't mean he goes and gets one? Just because I want it, doesn't mean I'm going to do anything!" Natalie pulled away and stalked toward the restaurant. She wasn't angry so much as she was scared. Nick usually didn't say things that reminded her of his killing nature so forth- rightly. Tonight she was tired and she was already aware she wasn't handling this well. She was going to be sorry later, but right now she was too busy acting like an idiot. Nick caught up with her just as she pulled to door open with energetic force. "Nat..." he said, stopping the door from hitting the wall as she marched inside. She stopped so abruptly that Nick smacked into her. His hands grabbed her shoulders and held her protectively. They both stared at the gun pointed directly at them. All around them was the stillness of fear. Customers were frozen at tables, the waitress was silent standing by the kitchen door, the owner behind the counter was quivering with suppressed fear--or rage, his hands fluttering at his sides. "Ting! Bu yao dung! ("Stop! Don't move!") the gunman shouted in Chinese. The gun wavered in his anxious hand. Nick began to pull Natalie back, hoping to get her behind him. "Wo sho TING!" ("I said STOP!") the man cried again. Nick's hands stilled and tightened on Natalie's shoulder's. Fear stabbed him. Natalie was directly and immediately in the line-of-fire. She was also directly between him and the gunman, making it almost impossible to take him down. Her heart was a pile-driver sounding loudly in his ears. Everywhere was the sound of hearts racing in fear. Nick pushed the sound away, trying to concentrate. Nick tried to capture his attention, focus on his eyes, but the man's eyes were darting everywhere, stopping nowhere. A torrent of angry, frustrated, Chinese began to flow from him. Nick could barely keep up with what he was saying. He was angry, angry for his lost job, his lost honor, his humiliation before family and friends. He was not a thief, he had not taken the money. His fiancee had left him, his father had disowned him. He had lost all. For something he had not done. He looked finally at the owner. "If I must lose my honor, so must you. All must know that you did not seek the truth--you already knew the truth, for you are taking the money." The gun moved at last as he brought it around to point at the man behind the counter. Nick began to edge around Natalie, pushing her slowly to one side. But the gunman saw Nick's movement and turned back, the gun swinging wildly in an arc. The owner leaped for the gunman as Nick grabbed at the gun--and missed as the owner fell against Nick. The gunman, screaming angrily, grabbed the waitress and moved back into the corner. Torrents of Chinese flowed as fears overwhelmed the people in the restaurant. Suddenly the gunman shoved the girl aside. Nick thought he heard him say "Wo shih ma do mai yu le--wen le!" ("I have nothing left--nothing!") as he put the gun to his head. Nick sprang forward catching the gunman's arm as the gun exploded. The bullet tore through the gunman's head and blood and brain splattered everywhere. Nick threw his arm across his face as the blood and blobs of bone and brain splashed him. He felt the hunger roar through him suddenly like a wild fire. He looked up as time dilated and slowed, his eyes glowing, his chest heaving, to see the young man, his head a bloody wreckage falling towards him. Together they went down as the gunman's body slammed into Nick. Nick found himself holding the man as blood spurted from what was left of his head. The heart beat laboriously, striving to sustain life, and Nick struggled for control. Every instinct screamed at him to take the blood from the neck inches from him. To take the dying man's blood. His fangs dropped as he bowed over the neck. So close...so close. Then Nick closed his eyes and let the body fall from his arms and buried his face in his hands. He felt Natalie's hands on his shoulder; he heard her crying out his name, but he couldn't move. Not until he could get the beast under control... Somewhere there was a siren getting louder. "Nick!" Natalie cried frantically, "are you okay? Can you look at me?" He uncovered one eye and looked up at her through a golden haze. Natalie gasped. "Nick," she whispered leaning closer, "your eyes..." Nick closed it again. He listened to her heart, felt her hands on his arms as she knelt in front of him. He wanted her blood, he needed her blood... Desire pounded through him, and he felt his tenuous hold stretching. "Nick," Natalie whispered. "Please, I know you can do it. I have faith in you. You can get control...." The words penetrated him, shored him up, and he hung on to them. The blood hung in the air still, tantalizing and teasing, but somehow he found the strength and subdued the beast. Somehow. Slowly he opened his eyes and let his hands drop. The relief on Natalie's face was palpable. And then the police were there. Nick hung on grimly through questions and more questions. Answer after answer. The same questions over and over. The blood on his shirt burned him. The blood. So much blood. He had to get it off him soon or he would lose what little control he had. Only Natalie's faith held him up. But at last the questions were over, they were free to go. After all, they knew where to find him. They walked out into the cool night air. He gulped it in, looked around at the lingering curiosity seekers, and before Natalie realized what he was doing, disappeared down the alley. She followed to hear only the soft woosh of air from his departure. ***** Nick shook his head. His hold was still shaky. He had so nearly taken the blood. It had been so close. Too close. Desire, that he had held in check only through the copious amount of blood he'd consumed before Natalie arrived at the loft, was rising again--swiftly. Nick put the Caddy in gear and headed without conscious thought towards the Raven. Towards blood--human blood. Obtainable, guilt-free blood. He'd had so much trouble for the last few months--ever since the possession. The need for human blood had gnawed at him. He hadn't been able to stay away from it, and now, it was all he could think of... The pounding, driving music slammed through him as he walked through the door. With his eyes fixed on the bar, Nick shoved his way through the morass of humanity and vampires without stopping. The vampire behind the bar eyed him and, without even asking, poured a glass of the house special. Nick took it and stared into it. He breathed the fragrance that wafted up to him. Blood and wine. The vintage he denied himself, that he wanted more than anything. Slowly his hand tightened and he lifted the glass to his lips and partook. The honey sweet essence slid through him. Nick closed his eyes and gulped it down, unable to control himself long enough to even sip it. He put the empty glass on the counter and stared at his shaking hand. He looked up and found the bartender; their eyes met and the bartender poured him another. He placed it in front of Nick and whisked away the empty glass. Nick stared at the drink and slowly took a deep breath. This wasn't helping at all. What would Natalie say? What would she think? Nick closed his eyes in pain. At this rate he would be unable to face the teeming humanity at his job before long. What was he going to do? He didn't want this, but he needed it. The incongruity of his thoughts struck him. The wanting and needing so discordant in his heart. The words whispered through his memory. "I've revived the vampire's taste for death...." And it was getting stronger. His control was slipping out of his hands. Tonight just might have been the last straw. End part 2 Send comments to delggren@es.com "Addictions are hard to give up." "Tell me about it." -- Schanke and Nick, Dark Knight Date: Mon, 28 Apr 1997 20:50:46 -0600 Reply-To: Dorothy Elggren Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Dorothy Elggren Subject: Take Out - Part 3 or 4 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Take Out - Part 3 copyright by Dorothy Elggren April 1997 Vachon plunked himself down casually next to Knight. He'd never seen Knight acting like a starving addict over a glass of blood before. He looked pretty shaky. "You okay, Knight?" he asked as Nick looked up at him. Nick said nothing, as he stared back down into the beckoning depths of the blood. It shimmered and scintillated in the dim lighting. "Knight?" "No," Nick said shortly. "I'm not okay." Vachon quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward on his elbows. Nick looked at him. Vachon's comfortable, lazy silence enveloped him. Nick swallowed and pushed the glass away from him. "You know how some days it doesn't pay to get out of bed?" "Yeah," Vachon allowed. "I shouldn't have got up tonight," Nick said moodily. "It's just gone downhill from the moment I woke. Natalie and I got into an argument, and then a guy shot himself and I got a blood and brain bath." Nick was silent for a moment playing with the stem of his wine glass. Vachon waited patiently. "He died in my arms. I nearly drained him. The blood was calling to me. In the middle of this little restaurant. A bunch of mortals--I could've cared less. All I wanted was the blood." Vachon waited to see if Nick was going to add anything else. He knew where Knight was coming from. When you got covered in blood, when you got offered a free feast--resistance was almost impossible. That Knight had resisted said volumes about his strength. Vachon doubted he could have done it. It also explained the attraction he had for the glass of blood in front of him. "Take-out," Nick said softly. "Huh?" Vachon said. "Take-out what?" "Take-out--it was what we we're arguing about," Nick said in a whisper. "Nat wanted take-out, and so did I..." Vachon looked at him in surprise. Knight's armor was cracking--badly. He didn't know Knight well, but he'd always thought he had more strength of will than a body ought to. He also thought he was slightly cracked in the belfry, but that was another story. Right now all that aloof reserve was crumbling in front of him. It must of been a hell of a bad night. "Take-out," Vachon mused. "Now that's a new way of looking at it," he said with a glimmer of a smile. "Does that mean we invented fast food?" He spoke lightly. Somehow he didn't think Nick Knight could take much more--the guy needed to lighten up. Nick looked up from the wine glass and stared at Vachon in surprise. A smile crept across his face. Vachon's eyes glimmered with amusement. "Maybe we did," Nick said. "Whatever it was, things used to be a lot simpler. You wanted to live, you..." "...got some take-out," Vachon finished. He tilted his head to the side and stared thoughtfully at Knight. "Maybe we should start our own fast-food joint. Granted it couldn't be *real* take-out, but maybe we could have a sipping bar-- sort of like those oxygen bars. Give 'em a tube, let 'em suck on some specialty stuff--sort of more like *sucking* the real thing." Nick laughed at that, feeling the hunger ease. It was pleasantly silly. "I'd like to see you explain the concept when you ask for a business license," he said drily. "Well, yeah, that could be complicated. But then you could just put the whammy on them and you'd be in business before you knew it." They looked at each other and said together, "NAH!" They sat in comfortable silence, each sipping on their drink. "So what're you going to do about Dr. Lambert?" Vachon asked, curiously. Nick took a deep breath and sighed. "I don't know. She doesn't really understand. In some ways, I don't think she wants to. She doesn't like to think about that side of things. She tends to deny what I am." "Yeah," Vachon agreed, thinking about Tracy. "They're fascinated and repelled at the same time. Tracy likes to think about me as her supernatural information center. She doesn't think about the fact that we are killers. That we kill to live." He shook his head. He wasn't too clear himself on how he felt about her. He could relate to Knight's problems that way. You got involved with a mortal and things got really muddy. Nick snorted. "Tracy sees things pretty much how she wants to. She's idealistic" "And you aren't?" Vachon probed. Nick looked at him. "I don't know," he said slowly. It's all murky shades of gray for me. What about you, what are you?" "A pragmatist, Knight. I live and let live." As they looked at each other measuringly, Urs joined them, fresh off the dance floor. "Hi, Javier. What's going on?" Nick and Vachon exchanged glances. "You know me, Urs, just sitting here, hanging out," Vachon said. "Talking about...take-out." Nick looked away. Urs's brow wrinkled at that. "What do you mean by take- out?" she asked innocently. Vachon smiled and put his hand under her elbow. "Oh, nothing. Why don't we go dance?" She smiled at him, "Sure, Javier." Vachon got up and looked back at Knight. "See you around, Don Quixote. Don't try to take out too many windmills at once." Nick glanced at him with a smile. "I'll try not to," he said. Vachon led Urs to the dance floor. Nick stared back at his glass. It was almost empty. He sighed. The beast still struggled inside him. It was quiescent for the moment, but it was simmering, slowly rising to the surface again. "I've revived the vampire's taste for death...." The words slid through his mind once more. He couldn't quell the beast. He knew what he would've done, and had done in the past, when things got too dicey. Janette. He would see Janette. He remembered last spring when the lust had overwhelmed him and in desperation, he'd called her from his car. She had met him on the pier and let him drink. Her blood could calm him when nothing else could. He shut his eyes to stop tears from forming. He missed her. He needed her. He wanted her. He loved her. She had been sister, mother, lover, friend and confidant. And now she gone without a word and he didn't know why. Finding her would be--difficult, especially if she didn't want to be found. There was no one else he could turn to. It would be a betrayal of Janette--and Natalie. Natalie wouldn't, couldn't understand. The sharing of blood was an intimacy of mind, body, and soul. More than anything he wanted that intimacy with Natalie, but it was impossible. And to reach out to anyone else for help besides Janette, well, he couldn't. It was enough that he betrayed Natalie by going to Janette, and he betrayed Janette by loving Natalie. He wasn't going to bring anyone else into this equation. He shook his head at his muddled thoughts. He wasn't sure *he* understood it, how could anyone else? LaCroix wasn't an option. He wasn't going to let that particular bond be strengthened. Nick was in deep trouble, and he knew it. He finished his drink and called for another. Urs moved sensuously to the music as she wrapped herself around Vachon. But her mind was on what Vachon had said to Nick Knight. She didn't know him, really, but every encounter always left her confused and surprised. Everybody said he was whacked in the head--that he wanted to be mortal. Yet her encounters had shown her a man of compassion and caring. A man who took life and lived in it--despite the pain it caused. She envied him that ability to live with pain. Mostly she tried to bury her pain. "Querida," Vachon whispered in her ear, "where are you?" Urs looked up at Javier's brilliant dark eyes and sensuous, sensitive face. He and Nick were so alike and yet so unlike. "I was thinking about what you said to Nick--about the windmills, and trying to figure out what you meant by take-out. What did you mean?" Vachon kissed the tip of her nose. "Knight's had a bad day. He's had a guy blow his brains out in front of him, and he almost took him. You know what it's like when there's so much blood," he said. Urs nodded solemnly, her eyes going dark. "Well, he's over there trying to find that thin line he likes to walk in the mortal world, and he ain't finding it. He really wants to go hunting," Vachon said quietly. "That's what he meant by take-out--a little fast food, a hot meal, so to speak. But it's not what he wants in that screwed up head of his, so..." he shrugged. "Oh..." Urs breathed, feeling sudden sorrow. She glanced over Vachon's shoulder at Nick hunched in solitude over his drink. Her heart went out to him. If anyone could understand unbearable pain, if anyone could understand not wanting to be what you were, she could. Tears welled in her eyes. "Urs," Vachon said against her ear, "don't cry for him. He wouldn't want it. Besides you don't want to have to explain why your tears are red, do you?" Urs swallowed them down and looked up at Vachon. She smiled shakily. "No, but I still think it's sad." "Yeah, me too," Vachon whispered and pulled her close. Urs couldn't help watching Nick over his shoulder. Nick finished his third drink and was contemplating a fourth when a light touch startled him. He looked around to find Urs standing there with concern marring her face. "Nick," she breathed, "I think you should go home." Nick looked askance at her. "Please," she pleaded, "go home. You won't find what you need here, what you want--not really. This place only makes the wanting stronger." Slowly Nick smiled at her, a little sadly. It was odd that she would understand that it really wasn't helping, without even knowing much about it. He suspected Vachon had told her some of it, but still, he was surprised she could understand so well. "Thank you, Urs," he said quietly. "You're probably right." Slowly he stood, and looking like the world was crumbling on him, he left. Urs watched him go. She chewed her thumbnail thoughtfully. End part 3 Send comments to delggren@es.com "I couldn't see any way out of my addiction. Essentially it's like feeding the beast. This big, greedy, beast that demands being fed over and over again. -- Monica, Feeding the Beast Date: Mon, 28 Apr 1997 20:51:57 -0600 Reply-To: Dorothy Elggren Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Dorothy Elggren Subject: Take Out - Part 4 or 4 X-cc: "woolf@cs.byu.edu" , "nyoung@wpo.sosc.osshe.edu" , "allboys@ibm.net" , "elloyd@es.com" , "ka-kramer@email.ldsbc.edu" To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Take Out - Part 4 copyright by Dorothy Elggren April 1997 Nick walked into the loft, defeated. He still felt hungry. He still wanted... "I've revived the vampire's taste for death, the vampire's taste for death..." The words mocked him. He threw the keys on the table and walked over to the window. He stared out at the moon's glow. Insidiously, the desire whispered in his head. It was a chorus, a symphony replete with timpani. His hands slowly clenched into fists. Suddenly he realized he wasn't alone. He whirled and stared at the shadow standing in the darkness. Her brassy curls glinted in the moon's glow. Nick stared at her, astonished. Urs stepped out of the shadows. "What are you doing here?" Nick asked, confused. "Vachon told me..." Urs whispered quietly, "and you helped me so much when Jacqueline killed herself, you helped me understand. You were kind and compassionate--most of our kind don't understand. They leave that kind of caring behind. It hurts too much. But I haven't and you haven't." Urs walked up to him and looked up into his pain-filled eyes. She gently reached out and put her hand on his heart. "I know what you need to calm your soul, Nick...." Nick slowly covered her hand with his. "Urs..." he began, "how can you possibly know what I ..." "I just do," Urs interrupted. "If Janette were still here, you would go to her, wouldn't you? I used to see you come in and talk to her. I'd see the way she looked at you when you'd leave. You would have gone to her for help, but you can't--and you stay away from everybody else, don't you?" "Urs, I can't," Nick said, "I won't use you like that. Natalie..." Urs stopped him with her delicate hand. "Shh. It's not like that. I need what you can give me, too. I see so much strength in you. You live in the mortal world, you live with constant pain, and you *survive*. I don't know how to survive. I can't *bear* the pain. Each day, I try to hide from it, I want to die, but I can't. You can give me strength...I can give you peace." Urs pulled him into her arms. Slowly she pressed his face into the crook of her neck. Nick closed his eyes in the calm of her embrace, his arms slid around her. He whispered against her. "I feel like it's a betrayal of Janette, of...Natalie. I know Janette isn't here, but Natalie, I don't want to hurt her, betray her...." "It's okay, Nick. This is not an act of passion, it's an act of compassion. If you don't do this, you know, and I know, that you will soon be forced into something even worse. I could feel it earlier tonight, you can, too. And I need your strength as much as you need the quietness of my heart." Nick breathed her fragrance and felt the change flow through him. His fangs dropped into place as Urs nipped his neck with her own fangs. He pulled back and looked at her. Hope and compassion shown on her face in the brilliant moonlight. She reached up and kissed him softly. "We can help each other, Nick," she said and pulled him back to her. Nick gently kissed her neck. He tasted her with his tongue and then, unable to stop himself, broke the tender flesh with his fangs and let her peace flow through him as her blood filled him and calmed him. He shuddered as he felt her fangs pierce him, and their minds merged and mingled with their blood. It wasn't at all like the passion and fire of Janette. It was, as she said, compassion. She was filled with so much kindness. Urs' nature was truly incompatible with that of a vampire. Her pain and confusion were clear before him, and he gave her his strength, stamina and sheer unmitigated will-power. Urs was equally astonished at the compassionate nature inside of Nick. The Knight, a Crusader, still after all this time. A man who sought to do good despite all. A man in turmoil, striving against the most basic fabric of his nature. But at last they broke apart. Nick tenderly licked the last droplet of blood that slid down her neck as Urs embraced him and lay her head against his heart. For a long time they stood silently in that close embrace. Sighing, she stepped back and lay her palm against his face. "Thank you," Urs whispered. Nick captured her hand and kissed it. "I'm the one who must thank you, Urs. I didn't know what I was going to do, but you have calmed my troubled heart--tamed the beast. I never expected this..." Urs stopped him once again with her hand. "Shhh..." She stepped back, and glowing with renewed strength and hope, smiled. "If you ever need me, you know where to find me-- and I know where to find you." Nick stared at her wordlessly, astonished. "Good night," she whispered, and was gone. Nick stood there in awe, overcome with gratitude. Urs had calmed his soul. The desire for human blood lay dormant. The desire roused by the demon was quiet, bound within him. And peace tiptoed into his heart. He felt sudden compassion for Urs' pain. He hoped she had gotten as much as she had given. He knew he would help her whenever, and however, he could. Forever. Urs stood alone on the street across from Nick's loft staring up in wonder. People mocked him for his quest, called him a fool. But Urs never would, never. His soul was tortured, like hers, for that which he couldn't have. He'd made his choice, but now he made of it dark poetry. He gave of his time and his heart to the mortals around him. He loved them despite the pain, despite the knowledge that he would lose them--and he did it over and over again. He had courage where she had none. But tonight he'd given her hope and courage to go on. When she had taken his blood, his power and strength had thundered through her. He had so much strength of character...whether misguided or not. Vachon would never understand. She guessed she wouldn't tell him. This was between Nick and her. A bond that helped them find their way in the darkness of their lives. She turned and took to the air... Epilogue Nick stared at the bottle of blood, his chin resting on the chair. The eye of the hurricane, or the end of the storm-- which would it be? He didn't know. He needed the blood to survive, but for now, it no longer ruled him with an iron fist. For a little while, he was free. The night was growing dim, daylight was coming. He got up and put the bottle in the fridge, as light began to fill the room. Nick picked up the remote and shut out the light that he so desperately wanted and went to bed. And Urs' peace filled his dreams. Fin Detective. You asked me if Nicholas is different. Au contraire. The Nicholas that I know is very much like you. He doesn't like to kill people, either. -- LaCroix, Close Call ------------------ Notes: This story began one night as I was working on a story and suddenly to my amazement Natalie and Nick began having this conversation that wasn't at all what I planned--or frankly could use in that particular story. I said "Excuse me!", and they both just looked at me while I explained that this conversation just didn't fit. Nick sort of shrugged, but Natalie said outright that I could just forget it, they *were* having this conversation (She was already angry--I should have know better.) So I let them have it and then informed them that it would just have to be moved to some other story. So I gently excised it from that story, which I hope some day is finished and sees the light of day; and it became the kernel for this story. I hope you enjoy it. It certainly didn't go where I expected it to. I just sit here and write what they tell me... (and Nick probably hopes Natalie NEVER finds out!) Thanks to my sister Jeanne for her tireless work on correcting my grammar and to my sister Helen (my most recent convert) for comments. Special thanks to Tom Tang for Chinese "sound" translations. He did the actual Chinese character translations for content first and then put them into English sound. Any errors in them are mine, not his. I would have loved to put in the Chinese characters but somehow I don't think they'd survive the listserv. Oh, and I'd better not forget the help Vicky Brinton gave me on philosphy. As always thanks to Liza who is the first to read my stories and reassure me that I'm not out of my mind. After she read the last part, she came into my office and said "I can't believe you did that. I kept thinking you're not going there, you're not. You are, you're going there!" I just grinned. As always these characters are not mine (dang it) but the property of TPTB. But they sure are fun to play with. So... what did you think? Comments are always appreciated. Send them to delggren@es.com