Date: Tue, 26 Sep 1995 20:07:57 -0500 From: D Echelbarger The Awakening By Diane Echelbarger Disclaimers and Dedications: This scene is all Jill Kirby's fault. She said I had to write it. Honest. Twisted my arm, even! It's dedicated to the FoDs, and to all you people (note, I said *you*, not *us*) who hate the third season already. OK, here it is... "It's the most difficult part, isn't it?" Nat asked. "Mortality. Having to leave the people you love behind." "Well, you never get used to it," Nick replied, placing Schanke's Partner of the Month plaque on the freshly-dug grave. "And when it doesn't make sense; when there's no reason..." "Does it really help to have one?" Nat prodded gently. "Would it have made a difference if Vudu had been an out-of-work cop or an anti-government maniac? Would that have cleared it up for you? Made you feel better?" She lay a bouquet of flowers on the grave. "I guess not," the detective admitted reluctantly. Natalie sighed and rose to her feet. "It should never have happened." She walked around to stand behind the new tombstone. Schanke's tombstone. "No," Nick agreed. "Don Schanke and Amanda Cohen aren't with us, and they deserve to be," the coroner continued. "Absolutely," the vampire agreed again. "Gone without an explanation." Nick stood up, and moved to stand behind Nat. "So, what do we do?" he asked. "Chalk it up to voodoo," Nat said, a little bitterly. The scene shifted suddenly, to a strange, pale man, back-lit in red, speaking into a microphone. As he spoke, his face loomed larger and larger, until only his mouth and chin could be seen. "Black magic. Voodoo. Bombers in the sky. People kill people, and I don't know why." -------------- He bolted upright, blankets falling away as his eyes widened with the shock of a too-sudden awakening. He wiped salt, sticky sweat from his forehead, and reached over to turn on the light. In its dim glow, he shook the beautiful, dark-haired woman lying beside him. "Myra. Myra! I just had the craziest dream!" Detective Don Schanke said, voice shaking. His wife rolled over and looked up at him with a tolerant smile. "I warned you not to eat that souvlaki right before bedtime, honey," she pointed out, and reached over to pull him down beside her with a look he knew very well. "But now that we're both awake, and Jenny's asleep--" Schanke grinned, and his wife started to unbutton his moose pajamas..... The End?