For those of you who are familiar with Leslie GrantSmith's
Michael stories, this little ditty fits in after "Child
Killer" and "A Letter from Michael" but before "Make Believe"
or "LaCroix's Apology."  This segment stands alone, as most
important elements of the previous stories are explained in
dialogues or flashbacks.  Still, Leslie's stuff is good
reading and I would recommend that you have read at least
"Child Killer" and "A Letter from Michael" before tackling
this.  Copies of her stories and plot synopses can be obtained
from her web page:  http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann.
If you end up missing parts, this whole story will be archived
there when I am finished posting it.  And if you need help
with the web page, contact Leslie at LoosCanN@aol.com.

For those of you new to the saga, a little background:
Michael was an 11 year-old choir boy brought across in 1435 by
a deranged son of LaCroix.  LaCroix killed his creation and
released Michael into the care of an ancient vampire named
Rasena, who educated Michael then sent him on his way.  He
lives on the street, posing as a prostitute and taking blood
from unsuspecting male clients.  He has a habit of killing
people who hurt children, which brought him to Nick's
attention.  Nick looked the other way on the agreement he
leave Toronto.  Michael returned, tracking a vampire who
preyed on kids.  He was injured while attempting to kill the
vampire, and Nick took care of him while he healed.  "Child
Killer" details his initial meetings with Nick and "A Letter
from Michael" tells about his creation and early life.

Although Michael has made JADFE appearances, this piece is
strictly PG - nothing explicit enough to rate an ADULT heading
and certainly no worse than primetime network TV, but anyone
who offends easily might want to consider hitting the delete
key now.  (If the description of Michael above didn't make you
frantically reach for the delete key, you'll probably be
okay.)  If a few things offend you, good - they should.
Michael is, in essence, a physically, mentally, and sexually
abused child.  This story is not about the actual abuse he has
suffered, however; it is about Nick and Natalie's attempts to
help him heal and deal with the traumas of that abuse.

For those of you still with me, I hope you enjoy.  Thanks to
Leslie for letting me borrow Michael after I promised to
return him unharmed and for her comments and suggestions.  And
yes, Nick, LaCroix, Tracy, Sydney, Reese, Grace, Jannette, and
Natalie still belong to Columbia, Tri-Star, and/or Sony.  I
promise to return them unharmed too, which is more than can be
said for the owners.

--------------------------------------------------------------
/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\*/\
\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/
--------------------------------------------------------------
                    The Parent Trap
A sequel to "Child Killer" and "A Letter From Michael"

                            by
                         Pam Swann
        beagle@phoenix.net or pjs6724@acs.tamu.edu
**************************************************************

The phone rang, and Nick Knight considered letting the machine
get it.  But no, his sense of duty would never allow that.  He
picked up the receiver.  "Knight."

"Hi Nick," a young man's voice greeted him.

He recognized the voice immediately.  "Michael.  Where are
you?"

A snort rang out from the receiver.  "Hello to you too,
Detective Knight."

Nick offered a lame apology for his curtness.  "Sorry."

"It's okay.  That was a better reception than I've gotten from
some people."

"So, what can I do for you?"  Nick knew there had to be
something Michael wanted, but he wasn't sure he wanted to
guess what.  He still remembered Michael's last visit to
Toronto.  The cop in him wasn't looking forward to a
return engagement.

"Relax, Nick.  There's no big bad wolf on my tail this time.
I'm just in town and I wanted to drop by, say hello, reminisce
on old times."

"Did something go wrong in New Orleans?"

Michael chuckled.  "Everything's great in New Orleans.  It's a
wonderful place - I love it!  And I plan to go back, so don't
worry about me hanging around in Toronto, making extra work
for you.  I just got the travel bug, and I decided to go
north.  No destination really.  Funny, I just wound up here."

"Well, we don't have many old times to reminisce about, but
feel free to drop by.  You can even crash on the couch - for
old time's sake."

His boyish enthusiasm crackled over the line.  "Thanks, Nick.
Be there in a flash.  Bye."

Nick returned the phone to its designated place and picked up
his wine glass.  He stared into the red depths of his drink,
his mind wandering.

Michael was a unique soul - an eleven year-old child who'd
been brought across and had lived as a vampire for nearly
six hundred years.  Children rarely survived; if the initial
shock of mortal death didn't kill them, the older, stronger
vampires would hunt them down and stake them.  But Michael had
survived, by living in the shadows, avoiding the Community,
being discrete, and covering his tracks.

To Nick, Michael represented an embodiment of clashing
characteristics, a dichotomy of ancient evil and youthful
innocence.  He'd been around almost as long as Nick, yet he
still viewed the world with the eyes of a child.  He could be
thoughtful, insightful, and wise beyond measure one minute,
then childish, immature, and bratty the next.  He understood
some things to a depth that mortal men never reached, but
other, simple things escaped his grasp.  He existed as an
entity trapped between child and adult, forever - a monster
with the face of an angel.

Nick felt both drawn and repulsed by him, but he couldn't
explain why.

**************************************************************

Michael sat on the black leather couch, absently swinging his
legs back and forth, enjoying the rhythm with which his heels
struck the soft leather.  He'd been explaining how the events
of Wolfgang's life had subtly altered his musical style.  It
was frustrating.  Nick might be intelligent, cultured, well
bred, and extremely well educated, but he knew nothing about
music!  A pity that such a fine entertainment system was
wasted on such deaf ears.  If Michael had a stereo like
Nick's ...

Well, best not to consider that.  The music he grew up with
was by and large lost to this generation, sadly enough.
Modern music had it's shining geniuses among the dull stars,
but it fell short when compared to the ancient masterpieces.
And besides, he'd never have a system like Nick's, not one of
his very own.  He relished the opportunity to borrow Nick's
CD's while he stayed in Toronto, and later - well, he avoided
thinking about later.  Life on the streets left a lot to be
desired.

To wrench his thoughts from their depressing path, he tuned in
Nick's conversation.  After all, Nick had abruptly dumped him
to answer that annoying ring.  Why were modern people so
enslaved to that stupid electronic device?  It didn't even
reproduce sound very well.  Fiber optic cables?  Ha!

Not that Nick minded.  He'd jumped to the phone and answered
it on the first ring.  Probably thought it was his lady
friend, the doctor.  Michael felt spurned, so he soothed his
wounded ego by eavesdropping, rationalizing it away with a
wicked grin.  After all, it was Nick's fault for holding the
conversation within his hearing range.  So what if he was a
vampire with extra sensitive ears?  It wasn't like Nick could
claim ignorance on that minor little detail.

The conversation disappointed Michael.  It concerned an
archeological dig Nick financed.  Archeology had interested
Michael many decades ago.  He'd used his talents to bribe his
way into museums - they were a safe place to spend the day.
He'd wandered through the great halls, fascinated by the
antiquities which were older than he, amused by the mistakes
made identifying those objects he knew from personal
experience.  It became his private joke - wandering through
the exhibits, gazing at the mortals who had no idea he'd been
there, seen these things when they were new.

Then he'd met a certain curator.  A man of great dedication.
These relics were his life, since he'd sacrificed both wife
and child for these glimpses of the past.  Now he'd become a
lonely old man, alone with his mummies and pottery shards,
rusting armor and flaking paintings.  Until he met Michael.
Sweet, innocent Michael, with the face of a cherub and the
voice of an angel.  Michael, who seemed to have stepped from
one of the canvases which hung on the museum walls.  Michael,
who called out to him in ways he couldn't explain, touched him
in ways he couldn't comprehend with his rational mind.
Michael, who had filled the lonely void in his life.

Michael smiled at the memory.  He missed that old man.

Nick's voice jolted Michael from his reverie.  He thought he'd
heard - did Nick say ...  ?  Yes, there it was again!  Delight
lit Michael's face.  The game was afoot.  Now Michael knew why
Nick paid scholars to dig in the dirt.  He knew what Nick
hoped to find.

Nick concluded his conversation and returned to his guest.
Michael hid his enthusiasm behind a poker face he'd had
centuries to perfect.  He asked, in a bored tone, "What was
that all about?"

Nick gave him an appraising look.  Michael had never expressed
much interest in his business affairs.  "That was a colleague
of mine - an archeologist."

"You were an archeologist?"  Michael was amazed.  Memories of
his long-dead curator pushed at the edges of his mind, but he
drove them away.

"Many lifetimes ago."  Nick chuckled.  "Now I just finance
others who want to play in the dirt."

"Why?  What do you get out of it?"

"I'm looking for an artifact, an ancient book.  I fund the
expedition, they find the book."

"Why do you want the book?  You've got an excellent collection
already and the public library is just around the corner."

Nick shook his head.  Michael might be centuries old, but he
still thought like a kid - curious, inquisitive, and totally
uninhibited.  "It's a special book - one I can't get at any
library," he replied, hoping to end the conversation by giving
his voice a flat, no-nonsense tone.

Michael ignored the hint.  "So what is this book about?"

Nick debated for a moment.  He didn't want to tell Michael
about the Abarat, about his search for a cure.  But the kid was
so damned persistent; he'd hound Nick all night and well into
the day if his curiosity was left unsatisfied.  Nick
relented, if only to save his sanity.  "It is said to contain
a way to reverse vampirism, to make vampires mortal again.  I
want to know if that's true, so I want the book."  He paused,
but Michael remained silent.  "So, are you going to finish
telling me about Mozart or not?"

Michael finished his story.

**************************************************************

               End Part 1 - Continued in part 2

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 2

It was just after sunrise.  Nick slept soundly upstairs, but
Michael lay on the couch, staring at the cold fireplace, lost
in thought.

Michael knew Nick wanted to be mortal again.  Why else would
any self-respecting vampire drink cow's blood?  It wasn't only
that, of course.  There were also his secretive meetings with
Natalie at the lab.  His rocky relationship with his master.
His isolation from the Community.  And his job - protecting
the innocent in hopes of redemption.  Nick never really spoke
much about it; he preferred to keep such intimate details of
his life to himself.  But occasionally, he let a stray comment
slip out, or he got into a melancholy mood and talked a bit
too freely.  So Michael knew this fantasy, this dream of
Nick's.

And Michael owed Nick a great deal.  The elder vampire, cop or
not, had covered for a string of murders the younger vampire
committed.  He'd let him go free - no punishment inflicted,
either in a mortal court of law or in the vampire Community.
He'd accepted the boy back, when he'd returned to Toronto
months later, stalking a vampire who had turned the tables and
began hunting him.  Nick had battled the enraged vampire,
saving Michael's life.  And he had nursed the injured boy back
to health, sheltering him from the Community, those who would
destroy him if they knew where to find him.  Michael had run
scared, not even properly thanking Nick for his help.  And yet
Nick had taken him in once again, when he'd arrived in Toronto
the previous night, alone and with no place else to go.
Michael knew he owed Nick his life, several times over.

When Nick had discovered that the boy was the serial murderer
he sought, Michael had been too eager to escape to realize
that Nick had done him an immense favor - keeping him from
mortal cops and immortal enforcers.  Their second meeting was
an entirely different story.  Michael knew Nick had risked his
life, mortal and immortal, by helping him - attacking the
vampire who sought to destroy Michael, then hiding the injured
boy from the Community.  He might have been forced to move on,
to shed his mortal existence and start a new life, elsewhere.
Or the Enforcers might have come for him, to punish him for
his indiscretions - engaging in a noisy vampiric brawl with
humans nearby, leaving the dead vampire's body where a curious
mortal might have found it, risking detection by human law
enforcement, sheltering and aiding a creature that most in the
Community, Nick's master especially, found an insult and a
threat to their existence.

There were other, little things that Nick had done for
Michael.  Giving him blood, buying him clothes, retrieving his
lost belongings.  These were very minor favors, really.  But
still, he owed Nick.  And Michael was not one to let debts go
unpaid.

Yet Nick refused any offer of payment.  After the boy had
recovered from the terrible wounds inflicted by the
now-deceased vampire, he'd tried to express his appreciation
to Nick, had tried to soothe his guilty conscience and help
him forget his raging desire for his mortal doctor - the
desire he could never express to a human.  Michael knew the
respite would be temporary, but he wanted to help Nick, to
ease his worries, if even for a few moments.

But Nick had refused, pulling away from the youngster's
probing hands, quickly rebuttoning his shirt.  He'd tried to
explain his position to Michael, an awkward discussion in
which Nick professed that he didn't want Michael sexually,
that he liked Michael for who he was, not what he did.
Michael really hadn't comprehended how Nick could refuse him
like that, how Nick could actually want his self-imposed
solitude.  But one thing had been very apparent - Nick was
serious about rejecting Michael's advances.  So Michael had
acquiesced, and retired to the bathroom to give them both some
time and distance - time to get their thoughts in order and
distance to quell the rampant emotions.

The break had given Michael time to think.  Obviously, Nick
immersed himself in the mortal world.  He followed the mortal
code of morality, the vampire code but a distant voice in the
back of his head.  And mortal morality forbade such intimate
contact with a child.  It represented a deviancy, the very
thing Nick sought to protect the innocent from.  No, the
mortal in him would not permit this.  Michael scoffed at such
ludicrous beliefs.  After all, at nearly 600 years of age, he
could hardly be considered a child.  And vampires never held
much to the age thing - "Sorry, I can't slip upstairs with you
because you're 304 and I'm 679?  I'm twice your age, child!"
No, not likely.  But it was a moot point.  Nick wasn't likely
to throw out his mortal conscience for a one night fling with
him, and Michael knew it.  The idea hurt, but Michael accepted
it.  The alternative was to risk hurting Nick by pushing him,
and that would be a lousy way to repay his kindness.  Michael
had never been with another vampire, and he desperately wanted
to be with Nick, so he'd make Nick an open offer, but it was
one he knew Nick would never accept.

And he'd been right.  The offer had been meet with a shake of
the head and downcast eyes.  Great.  Instead of repaying Nick
for his kindness, Michael had made him feel worse.  He'd had
seen the anger in Nick's eyes, the flecks of gold, when he'd
emerged from the bathroom and he'd hated himself for doing
that to Nick.  After all, Nick was really the only friend he
had these days.

So he'd decided to find some other way to repay Nick.  But
LaCroix had made his presence known, and Michael had been
forced to run.  He'd cleaned the loft, putting fresh sheets on
the bed Nick had given up for him.  And he'd gotten Natalie a
bouquet of roses, to thank her for being his doctor and to
reassure Nick that he was sorry for attacking her.  He'd also
written down the music that Mozart had composed for him so
long ago; Nick had fallen in love with that score when Michael
sang it for him.  Michael wanted to leave that piece of
himself with Nick.

It was a start, but clean sheets and a bit of music did not a
debt repay.  There had to be something else.  Michael had gone
to New Orleans, after he left Nick; it was a favorite hiding
place of his, a place where he felt safe and at ease, where he
could blend into the crowd and listen to the jazz.  There
he'd spent many nights wandering the streets and the
waterfront, thinking about what Nick wanted most.  Mortality,
surely, but that was hard to come by.  Not that he hadn't
looked.  He'd gone to many a voodoo shop, sought out many a
witch and sorcerer.  None of them had been helpful.  He'd gone
to the grand old cathedrals, searching for answers in the
faith Nick had long ago abandoned.  He'd found a certain inner
peace for himself, a link to the mortal life he'd left behind,
but nothing for Nick.  So then he tried libraries, both public
and private.  He spent hours pouring through ancient tomes and
modern manuscripts, but to no avail - "vampirism cures" just
wasn't a Library of Congress subject classification.  In
desperation, he'd even sought out an old ally of his adopted
master, Rasena.  The woman had been cold and gruff, no help at
all.  But at least she had not been angry and, more
importantly, she wouldn't tell Rasena of his search; he wasn't
too sure how his vampiric mother would take the notion and he
certainly did not wish to incur her wrath.  In the end, he'd
given up the idea of making Nick mortal.

So he'd sought another gift he could give Nick.  But what?
Nick had money, so anything he wanted he bought.  He longed
for his dead sister, but necromancy was beyond Michael's
skills.  He wanted freedom from LaCroix, but Michael had yet
to obtain that for himself, so how could he get it for
another?  He wanted his mortal doctor, but that would be
impossible without him first finding his own mortality.
Michael never fully comprehended it, not really - the other
vampires seemed to be driven by a blood lust that he simply
lacked.  He could quite easily be intimate with a mortal and
not bare his fangs, not draw blood.  He knew of a few others
who could - Rasena and LaCroix among them.  But most of the
Community lacked the control necessary to bed a mortal and not
kill, or at the very least maim.  Mostly, it was the old ones
who could manage it.  Michael didn't know why he had this
skill, this super control.  His young age, when he was brought
across?  Or maybe because of his unique relationship with his
master, the deranged creature who created him?  Or perhaps he
was a special creature of God?  He just didn't know.  He'd
asked Rasena once, but she had refused to answer.  She knew,
but that knowledge would never be shared, at least not with
him.  He accepted that.

But it still left him with a dilemma.  He needed something to
give Nick.  In the end, all Michael had to give was his body,
and Nick had made it very clear that he would not accept that
particular currency.  So, in desperation, Michael had returned
to Toronto, hoping that spending time with Nick might give him
a clue, that Nick might tell Michael what he wanted.  And a
mere couple of hours into his visit, that was exactly what had
happened.  Nick had given Michael a way to fulfill his two
fondest dreams - mortality and Natalie.

Michael curled up into a ball, closing his eyes.  He had plans
to work out.

**************************************************************

Nick woke on the first ring of the phone.  "Knight," he
answered, no trace of sleep in his voice.

"Nick?"

Natalie's voice was hesitant, shaky, and scared.  Alarm bells
went off in Nick's head.  "Nat, is everything okay?"

"Mmmm.  Not exactly.  Can I come over?"

Nick glanced at the clock on his night stand.  3:43 PM.  Broad
daylight.  He couldn't go to her.  He chose to avoid her
question.  "What's wrong Nat?"

"Nothing really."  She was trying to sound calm, but her voice
shook and cracked before she managed to exert control once
again.  "I just don't currently have a place to live.  I was
*hoping* I could stay with you, but if that's going to be a
problem ..."

The light tone in her voice did nothing to soothe Nick's
concerns.  He knew Nat too well to fall for her attempts to
mask near hysteria with humor.  It was a trick he'd seen
before; when the job got to her, she'd mask the horrors with
jokes and banter.  He didn't buy it then and he wasn't buying
it now.  "What happened to your apartment?"

"It seems to have caught fire.  Don't worry, Nick.  Sydney and
I are fine.  A little shaken, but otherwise unsinged, if
you'll pardon the pun.  The firefighters put the blaze out
before it got to my place.  But it did damage some other
apartments, so they are evacuating everyone until they figure
out what caused the blaze and whether or not there was
structural damage.  So I am homeless for at least today and
probably tomorrow.  Now, can I come over or not?"

Nick did a quick survey of his options, fighting an inner
battle.  He did not want Nat in his loft at the present
moment, but he also couldn't turn her away when she needed
help.  "Okay,"  Nick finally relented.

"Gee.  Don't sound so thrilled.  I'll be there in fifteen
minutes.  Bye!"

Nick sat staring at the phone, the dial tone ringing in his
ear.  What had he just let himself in for?

**************************************************************

               End Part 2 - Continued in part 3

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 3

Nick thought fast and furious as he dressed.  A mortal and a
vampire in the same apartment for an extended length of time?
Definitely not a good idea.  He could probably handle it, but
he wasn't so sure about Michael.  The memory of Nat's initial
meeting with Michael made him shudder.  Maybe if he offered to
pay for a hotel ...

He went downstairs to find Michael sitting up, rubbing his
eyes.  "Wuts up?"  he mumbled sleepily.

"Natalie is coming over."

Michael's eyes flew open.  Suddenly, he was wide awake.
"Natalie?"

"There was a fire in her apartment complex.  She needs a place
to stay."

"And she'll be staying here, with us?"  Inwardly, Michael
smiled.  His plans were coming along quite nicely.  He needed
to get Nick and Nat together, and having her so close at hand
would make it easier.  Then he noted the look on Nick's face,
and he sobered quickly.  Better act fast.  "Don't worry about
me Nick.  I'll mind my manners while she's here.  No flying in
the house.  No empties left lying in the kitchen.  No bringing
my snacks home to play."  He gave Nick his most innocent grin.

Nick did not return it.  "I was more worried about
unauthorized snacking on the house guest."

"I wouldn't do that Nick.  I like Nat.  I don't bite my
friends, you know."  Nick wasn't buying it.  "That one time
was a fluke Nick.  I was hurt - nearly drained.  I was
delirious.  I didn't know what was going on.  It was an
accident."

"No more accidents, okay?"

Michael sensed a slight warming to Nick's glacial tone.  He
thought Nick trusted him, but he also knew Nick worried about
Natalie.  She was not the most popular mortal among the
Community - even he knew that.  Her life was in danger from
his kind, and Nick desperately needed to protect her.  But
Nick ought to trust him more than that.

"She'll be here in a few minutes.  Why don't you go upstairs?
You can sleep in my bed."

"Okay."  Michael grinned.  He quickly scooted up the stairs
and vanished from sight.

Nick watched him go and said a silent prayer.  He trusted
Michael more than he did most vampires, but he knew all too
well that good intentions evaporated when the beast emerged.
He hoped letting Nat into the loft would not prove to be a
mistake - for any of them.  In his world, mistakes were
usually fatal.

**************************************************************

Almost an hour later, Nick heard a car pull up.  Fifteen
minutes, huh?  Well, punctuality had never been one of Nat's
strong points.

A short time later, the door slid open.  A hairy ball shot
through the narrow opening and dashed straight to the couch,
pouncing on the jumble of blankets and pillows Michael had
left behind and Nick had been too preoccupied to notice.

"Hi Sydney,"  Nick greeted the cat.  "Make yourself at home,
by all means."  Sydney merely looked at the intruding
immortal, as though reminding him that he might be more than
human, but cats were still infinitely superior.

Natalie followed, burdened by her load.  Several bags were
clutched in her fists.  Nick stepped forward and relieved her
of the bags, carrying them to the kitchen counter.  Nat
followed.  "Thanks Nick.  I really do appreciate this.  It
could be a few days before I can get back into my apartment
and I can't afford a hotel bill right now."  She picked out a
few items from one of the bags and headed for the
refrigerator, never pausing in her monologue.  "Knew I'd
better bring it with me - you don't keep much food on hand for
chance visitors and I don't intend to start a coffee and
microwave popcorn diet."  She stashed the food, surveying the
fridge.  "Hmmm.  Your bottles are still here, but _most_ of
the protein shakes are gone.  Good boy Nick.  And there's
plenty of room for my stuff.  Had to make a quick trip to the
grocery store - they wouldn't let me into my apartment to get
anything.  Luckily, I'd grabbed Sydney, my purse, and some
slippers on the way out."  Nat stuck her foot out, modeling
the aforementioned house shoes - blue Isotoners Nick had given
her for Christmas.  She closed the refrigerator door, then
began putting things in the cabinet.  "Hard to think straight
in that kind of milieu.  But, I'm used to it - I did my tour
through ER.  And lucky me, I was sleeping in street clothes.
Saved by the sweats.  Otherwise, I'd have been shopping in my
favorite slinky black negligee.  Wouldn't that have been a
hoot?  I have tonight off, but if I can't get into my
apartment by tomorrow, I guess I'll have to go shopping.
Can't go to work dressed like this.  Nope - bad for the old
image -"

Nick caught her hand halfway to the shelf, halting her
non-stop babbling before it became hysteria.  He gently turned
her toward him, taking the can of soup from her grasp and
placing it on the counter.  "Are you okay?"  he whispered.

She ducked her head for a moment, then tilted it up.  He saw
tears rimming her eyes.  "It was close, Nick.  Too close."

"I thought you said your apartment didn't catch fire."

She shook her head.  "It didn't.  But still - knowing that it
_could_ have been _my_ apartment that burned.  They almost
didn't get one family out.  A mother and her baby - they were
trapped in a bedroom.  They could have burned, Nick.  Burned
alive."  She broke into tears, her shoulders shaking with the
silent sobs.

Nick pulled her close, held her against his chest in a bear
hug.  He knew her childhood fear of burning - she'd seen
people trapped in a car fire, and the sight had terrified her.
To this day, she still had problems dealing with burned
corpses.  He understood her terror now, and he lent her his
strength while she cried it all out.

Sometime later, the sobs stilled, Natalie pulled away from
him.  "Your mascara's running," he said, handing her a napkin
from the ornate but rarely used napkin holder.

She dabbed at her reddened eyes.  "I guess so."  She headed
for the living room, in search of her purse.  Maybe she had
some eye drops, or at least a tissue - the napkin was a bit
rough.

A quick excavation through the depths of her oversized purse
turned up a travel pack of tissues, but no eye drops.  Oh
well.  She'd live.  She turned to head back to the kitchen.

Then she spotted Sydney curled up on the couch.  Blankets.
Pillows.  The realization hit.  Nick already had company.

Nick followed her gaze and guessed what she was thinking.  "I
sent him upstairs, to bed."

Nat rewarded him with confused bewilderment.  So he continued,
"Michael called me last night and said he was back in town.
He needed a place to stay, so -"

"He came here."  Nat finished for him.

"I'll book you a hotel room."

"No, really.  It's okay."  She didn't know what else to say.
She wanted to stay here, with him, alone?  She didn't need his
help?  She didn't want his money?  She hated him for lying to
her, for not telling her that Michael was in town?  She felt
betrayed, that he was turning her away when she really needed
him?  She needed more than a bed?  Nothing seemed right, and
she was too emotionally drained to think of anything better.

She was saved by Michael's sudden appearance.  "Umm, hi!"

Michael stopped at the foot of the stairs, watching the two
adults.  This did not look good.  Way too much tension.  He
needed to diffuse this fast.  "So, Nat.  Are you my
baby-sitter tonight while Nick is at work?"

Nat cracked a smile.  The mere thought of baby-sitting someone
who was almost six centuries old was just ridiculous enough to
be entertaining, especially in her state.  "Baby-sitter?
Nope.  How about companion for the evening?"

"I like the sound of that!"  Michael returned Nat's smile.
"Don't worry Nick.  We'll play nice.  Or you could take the
night off and stay here with us - a chaperone?"

Nick shook his head.  "Too much work to do.  And Nat won't be
staying long.  She just stopped by.  So, Nat, which hotel
would you like to stay in?"  He desperately tried to redirect
the conversation.  Leaving an exhausted and emotional Natalie
alone with a child vampire would certainly not be his first
choice.

"How about the Knight Inn?"  she queried.

"No vacancy.  Next choice?"

"Nick, are you telling me that you wouldn't sleep on the floor
so a lady could have your bed?  And you call yourself a
knight?"  Nat gave him a theatrically shocked look.

Nick groaned inwardly.  Nat was punchy, which would make her
hard to convince.  "Of course I would.  But I thought you
might like to be someplace a little more hospitable -
someplace with room service."

"I'd like someplace familiar, actually."

Nick weighed his options.  After a few moments of soul
searching, he finally decided that it might be best to keep
Natalie close at hand.  Her mental state was questionable, and
Michael didn't really present that much of a danger.  "Well,
m'lady, welcome to the Knight Inn."

**************************************************************

               End Part 3 - Continued in part 4

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 4

Nick had left for work shortly after nightfall, but not before
warning Michael about the consequences of allowing any harm
come to Natalie.

The first hour or so after Nick left had been tense.  Michael
wasn't used to being alone with mortals, at least not adult
female
mortals.  And Nat wasn't used to being alone with vampires,
other than Nick of course.  She was still shaky, still scared.
He was unsure, on new ground.  How did one behave around a
mortal anyway?  He'd spent most of his time lately with kids.
Kids he could deal with - they accepted him.  His tricks he
could play with - control them, manipulate them, kill them if
he had to, or wanted to.  But Natalie?  This was all new
territory.  But she was vital to his plan, so he made the best
of it.  He'd talked to her, light and frivolous conversation.
He'd steeled himself, refusing to jerk away when she touched
him.  He'd tried to get comfortable being around her.

And the ice had slowly broken.  They'd played a board game -
Scrabble.  Nat taught Michael the rules, but she kept getting
mad when he used foreign words and phrases.  Like it was his
fault he was fluent in so many languages.  But at least he was
getting used to having her around.  Acclimated, he supposed
she would call it.

Then they'd watched television - the first half of a Disney
movie about kids exploring the galaxy and fighting evil space
techno-pirates.  Michael liked that one.  As time had gone on,
Nat had relaxed, apparently pushing her day's adventure to the
back of her mind.  And Michael found himself hoping that Nat
would be around the next night, to watch the movie's
conclusion with him.  He'd lied to Nick about liking Natalie -
to him, she was just another mortal.  A beautiful mortal, a
mortal who made him wish he'd been brought across as an adult
instead of a child, a mortal who had cared for him when he was
injured, true, but still just another mortal.  But, after
spending some time with her, Michael found himself growing ...
fond of her.  He began to see why Nick loved this woman so
very much.

Nick had called, at least once an hour.  Just to check on
them.  To see that everything was okay.  As a matter of fact,
Nat was talking to him right now.  Michael hadn't wanted to
hear another round of twenty questions, so he'd gone in search
of Sydney.  He'd never had a pet, not in all his years, so he
found the cat intriguing.  In his day, animals had been useful
- they did work.  He didn't understand the modern
preoccupation with keeping useless animals around.  Fat, lazy,
useless, domesticated pets.

He found Sydney on Nick's bed, napping.  Michael watched the
feline sleep for a moment, but he didn't wake him.  Instead,
he wandered back downstairs.

Michael walked in at the end of the conversation.  "Okay.
Don't worry, Nick.  See you ...  Bye."  Nat hung up and turned
to face Michael.

"That was Nick.  Seems he has been called on to testify, so he
is stuck in the court house all day - can't risk moving around
in the sunlight."

"I know the feeling."  Michael grinned.

"Yeah, I guess you do.  So, looks like it's just you and me."

"Don't worry.  I'll behave."

Nat smiled.  Nick had a weird way of solving the bed shortage.
Spending the day in the courthouse seemed a bit radical; she
figured he would just offer to sleep on the floor or let
Michael sleep upstairs and give her the couch.  Oh well.  Nick
always did have his way.  She thought it strange that he would
leave her alone all day with a vampire, but if he trusted
Michael, so did she.

"So, what shall we do to entertain ourselves?"  she inquired.

**************************************************************

At the precinct, Nick growled as he hung up the phone.  He was
most definitely not a happy camper.  The Crown drug its feet
for six months on the Lawrence case.  Now, all the sudden,
they need him to testify in three hours.  No warning.  No time
to prepare.  No time to find Nat a safe place to stay.  Damn!
Why did there have to be five conventions in town?  Why now,
just when he needed a hotel room?  He thought about calling
Aristotle - he probably had the connections to get a room.
But that would mean exposing Nat to yet another member of the
Community.  No, she was better off with Michael.  He hoped.
Because if anything happened to her while he was sealed inside
the court house ...

**************************************************************

An impish smile broke out across Mike's lips.  "You'll never
get this one Nat."

"Try me," she challenged.

"What boxer was hailed by Hitler as a paragon of Teutonic
manhood?"

Nat scrunched up her face, grimacing.  "Boxing in the 1940's?
What kind of question is that?"

Mike laughed.  "The kind you can't answer.  Give up?"

Natalie nodded her head, cursing the fact that she would never
get her Sports and Leisure pie piece - she never watched
sports and she had no leisure time.  What ever had possessed
her to play Trivial Pursuit with a vampire?

Michael didn't bother to look at the back of the card.  "Max
Schmeling.  My turn."  He grabbed the die.

"Wait a minute.  How did you know that?  Don't tell me you met
him?"

Michael giggled.  "Nope.  Of course not.  Too conceited - not
my type.  I saw it in an episode of 'Voyagers.'  Nice show -
very historical.  I watch it whenever it runs on the Sci-Fi
channel, if I'm in the US at the time."  Nat rolled her eyes
as Michael rolled the die.  "Okay, Alex, I'll take Art and
Literature for five hundred."

Nat reminded herself to unplug the TV the next time Michael
left the room.  She grabbed a card from the box, read the
question, and groaned.  Too easy - he wouldn't even need to
pause to think about this one.  "What name did Vincent Van
Gogh sign to his paintings?"

"Ohhhh, too easy!  This is like taking candy from a baby!"
Nat glared at the triumphant youngster, quelling his
enthusiasm.  "Vincent," he snapped.  He rolled again, landing
on the Geography space.

Nat selected another card and read.  "What former penal colony
lies on the coast of French Guiana?"

He gave her his most malicious grin and pitched his voice with
a ghoulish tone.  "Devil's Island."  He rolled again, landing
in the headquarters space for Science and Nature.

Nat selected another card.  "For the pie piece - what's the
gestation period of the elephant, within three months?"  She
smirked.  At last, one she knew the answer to!  That fling
with the vet student back in her med school days had finally
paid off.

Michael bit his lip.  He squirmed.  Finally, he blurted out a
guess.  "Fifteen months."

Nat nearly fell out of her chair.  "Nice guess, but no cigar.
Twenty-one months."  She took the die, rolled, and counted out
her options.  History, or a try for the Arts and Literature
pie piece?  She chose to go for it.

"Hmm.  Getting serious, are we?  Okay.  Let's see."  Michael
made a theatrical production out of choosing a card.  "What
subject did Mr. Chips teach?"

Nat squealed.  "Latin!"  She nearly bounced out of her chair.
"That was the only book I actually liked in British Lit!
'Goodbye Mr. Chips.'  I can't believe it."

Michael slid her pie piece into her token with a flourish.
Her first this game.  And he only had one to go.  He briefly
considered letting Nat win, but dismissed the thought.  She
wouldn't want that, now would she?

Her next question made Michael smile as he read it.  "Who is
considered the patron saint of children?"

Natalie laughed.  She knew this one too.  "Well, that would be
Saint Nicholas, I believe."

Michael chuckled.  "Can you imagine that?  Nick as a saint,
surrounded by kids?"  The image made him laugh.  Nat, feeling
the exhaustion of a long night and a rudely interrupted sleep,
began to giggle hysterically.  She actually considered Nick to
be quite good with kids, but she couldn't help the image that
came to mind:  Nick, in a flowing white robe, two small
children seated in his lap, a crowd gathered at his feet,
gazing lovingly up at him as he read a Dr. Suess book.  Green
eggs and ham or Sam I am?  She started laughing so hard she
nearly fell from her chair.

Their mirth was interrupted by the shrill ring of the
telephone.  Nat rolled her eyes as Michael dared her.  "I'll
give you three guesses as to who that might be."

"I only need one," she replied as she scooped up the receiver
and hit the TALK button.  "Hello Nick."  She listened for a
moment, then stated, "Everything is fine."  Another pause.
"Of course I sound happy.  We were enjoying a good laugh at
your expense."  Pause.  "Actually, I am in the process of
losing a game of Trivial Pursuit."  Pause.  "Thanks for your
concern.  Good bye!"  She punched the OFF button as hard as
she could, regretting the fact that one cannot slam a cordless
phone in the traditional manner of showing ire at a caller.

Michael grinned.  "Guess who?"

"As I am sure you surmised, that was Detective Knight calling
to make sure that all necks are still intact."

Michael feigned shock, wrapping his hands around his neck.
"And you didn't tell him that you hadn't bitten me yet?
Natalie, for shame.  Now he'll worry about me."  He fell into
uncontrolled laughter at his joke.  Even Natalie had to crack
a smile.

She shifted in her chair, tapping the box of question cards .
"He'll call again, I'm sure.  In the meantime, let's see about
getting me another pie piece, shall we?  I _am_ going to win
this game."

Michael pulled the next card from the deck, scanning it.
"Well, I can answer all of these.  But the question is, can
you?"  He handed her the die, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

**************************************************************

               End Part 4 - Continued in part 5

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 5

Three games later, Natalie yawned, placing a hand over her
mouth.  Michael slid the question card he held back into the
box.  "If you're tired, you should go to sleep."

She shook her head.  "Nope.  I promised I'd be your companion
for the evening.  I'm not very good company when I'm asleep.
Seems I just steal the covers and try to push people out of
bed."

"At least you don't snore."  He grinned at her shocked look.
"Okay, so I don't know from personal experience.  But I do
know that you won't make a good companion when you start
acting like a zombie.  And you are well on your way to that
already."

"No.  Really, I'm fine, Mike," Natalie protested.

"The sun's up.  It's way past your bedtime.  Mine too.  Let's
call it a night."

She pouted.  "I still haven't won a game."

"You can try for a rematch tonight.  After you get some
sleep."

"I wouldn't feel right, leaving you alone down here."

"Natalie, I have to sleep sometime too."  His face lit up, a
sudden idea coming to him.  "Tell you what, why don't you read
me a bedtime story?  When I fall asleep, you can go upstairs
and nap too."

Nat smirked.  "Aren't you a little old for bedtime stories?"

"You never get too old for bedtime stories.  You just change
books."

Nat nodded in agreement, thinking of all the paperback
romances that had lulled her off to sleep on those lonely,
empty nights.  "I do believe you are right."  She stood,
stretching her cramped legs.  "Well, go get ready for bed."

Michael obediently hopped up, grabbing his backpack from the
far corner and hurrying up the stairs.  Nat heard running
water as she strolled around the room, trying to get the
circulation back into her limbs.  Too many hours in that
chair.  And she still didn't win a game.  At least she finally
got a few pie pieces.

She made a pallet for him on the couch, arranging the sheets
and the quilt just so.  She turned off the overhead lights,
leaving just the lamp to illuminate the room.  When all was
ready, she sat on the arm of the couch, waiting for Michael.

Michael reappeared a few minutes later, dressed in his
favorite sweat pants, face freshly scrubbed.  He dropped his
pack and strolled over to the bookcase, scanning titles.
Natalie listened to his mutterings.  "Nope.  Too depressing.
Old English?  Gag.  Victorian - too stiff.  Faulkner?  How
boring.  'Dracula?'  How cliche, Nick.  Read that one a week
ago.  Hmm - this looks good."  He pulled a selection from the
shelf.

Natalie allowed him to settle into his bed.  He opened the
book, scanning what appeared to be the table of contents,
then flipped through, searching for a particular page.  He
handed her the open book, and she chuckled at his selection.
A personal favorite of hers.

She settled into the black leather chair and began to read.
"Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where
we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.  From forth the
fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-cross'd lovers
take their life; whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows do
with their death bury their parents' strife.  The fearful
passage of their death-mark'd love, and the continuance of
their parents' rage, which but their children's end naught
could remove, is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; the
which, if you with patient ears attend, what here shall miss
our toil shall strive to mend ...."

Much later, she noticed that his eyes had closed.  In sleep,
his face looked so calm, so peaceful.

She quietly closed the book and placed it on the table.  Her
gentle hands pulled the quilt up over the sleeping boy,
tucking him in for the day.  Impulsively, she placed a kiss on
his cheek.  A part of her wondered what it would be like to do
this every night, to have a child of her own.  Her practical
mind chided her for the thought as she turned off the lamp
before heading to the stairs.

The darkness of the room hid the gentle curve of Michael's
lips as he smiled.

**************************************************************

Michael woke with a start.  He sat up, gazing around the dark
room.  He heard a faint heartbeat.  A mortal invader?  Then he
looked in the kitchen.  Golden eyes stared back.

Michael jumped from his makeshift bed, prepared to do battle.
He'd promised Nick nothing would happen to Nat, so he intended
to protect her.  He bared his fangs and growled a warning to
the unknown vampiric intruder.

His adversary was unfazed.  The yellow eyes blinked.  Then
they dropped suddenly, hovering a mere foot above the floor.

Michael giggled, releasing his pent-up breath, relaxing his
tense muscles, glad no one had been present to witness his
silliness.  Sydney merely curled up on the kitchen floor and
began licking his paws in a supremely unconcerned fashion.
After all, he was accustomed to having vampires in his home.
Natalie might be his favorite pet, but Nick came in as a close
second.  And that was only because Nick so rarely ever fed
him.

Michael started to crawl back into bed when another noise
disturbed him.  A slight groan from upstairs.  A small cry -
nothing much, but enough to warrant investigation.  He crept
up the stairs.

Natalie lay in the bed, lost in a tangle of covers.  One
pillow sat on the floor, and the comforter threatened to fall
from its precarious perch.  She tossed and turned, moaning
softly, her fists clenching and unclenching spasmodically.  To
Michael, the signs were unmistakable - he knew them all too
well from personal experience.

He slipped up beside the bed.  "Nat," he whispered.  "Nat,
wake up."

She moaned, tossing her head, but her eyes remained closed.
He put a hand on her shoulder, feeling the mortal warmth of
her body, shaking her gently.  "Nat," he said, a little
louder.

The woman sat upright, her eyes open wide.  Her head moved
from side to side, her eyes searching for something.  She
grabbed the sheets and pulled them up around her neck.

"Nat?"  Michael asked again.  Her head swung in his general
direction, but she did not make eye contact.  Realization
dawned in Michael's mind.  The room lay shrouded in darkness,
a darkness Natalie's mortal eyes could not penetrate.

Michael flew across the room, flicking on the lights.  Nat
screwed her eyes shut, blocking the sudden brightness.
"Sorry.  Shoulda' known that would hurt your eyes," Michael
apologized.

"Michael," Nat stuttered, opening her eyes the tiniest slit.
She blinked rapidly, then risked opening her eyes completely.
"What are you doing here?"

"You were having a nightmare.  I heard you, and came upstairs
to check on you.  You are okay, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess so."  She ran her hand through her disheveled
hair.  "When you're the coroner, nightmares are a common
occurrence."

Michael laughed.  "I know the feeling.  Happens to me a lot
too.  Can I do anything for you?  Get you anything?"

Nat looked at him, suddenly nervous.  Shortly after Michael's
last visit to Toronto, Nick had confessed to Nat that the
young vampire was smitten with her - "regretted looking like a
child" had been the phrase.  Nat didn't think much of it at
the time.  But suddenly, alone with him in the bedroom,
wearing only one of Nick's shirts, she started getting real
uncomfortable.

Michael sensed the emotion, if not the cause.  "When I have a
nightmare, I usually have a warm cup of blood.  It makes the
memories go away."  Natalie frowned.  "Hmm, guess that's not
an option.  But I make a real mean pot of coffee.  Want some
coffee?  We could talk - about whatever."

"Make it hot chocolate and you're on."

Michael perked up with youthful enthusiasm.  "Yeah.  Hey, no
problem.  I make real good hot chocolate.  Meet ya
downstairs."  Suddenly, he was gone.  A moment later, Nat
heard the tea pot clink against the sink.  She crawled from
the bed, surveying the mess.  And Nick was such a neat-freak -
she'd have to make the bed before he got home.

She slipped into her sweats and headed for the kitchen.

**************************************************************

               End Part 5 - Continued in part 6

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 6

Michael puttered around the kitchen, filling the kettle with
water and setting it to boil before searching for the cocoa.
He thought about Natalie.  He'd learned a lot about Natalie in
their time together.  She'd talked a great deal, to fill the
silence, to ease the awkward tension.  And he'd watched her;
he'd been observing mortals for almost six centuries, so he'd
accumulated a lot of experience where body language was
concerned.  And of course, Nick talked about Natalie
sometimes.

She was really the first woman Michael had been close to.
He'd seen women, lots of them, but he never really got to know
any of them, never spent any time with them.  His companions
were mostly men and children, on those occasions when he chose
to have any companions.

He'd left his mother's house when he'd joined the choir at age
six.  He remembered missing her terribly, and looking forward
to her visits, but he really couldn't remember her very well;
mortal memories tended to fade fast.  He concentrated, but he
couldn't quite recall her face.  All that came to mind was the
smell of baking bread and a laugh - light and musical.  He
always fancied he'd gotten his voice from his mother.

And Rasena, his vampiric mentor, was not someone he would
label "maternal."  She taught him what he needed to know to
survive, but she didn't really harbor any affection for him.
He knew he was just her pet project - proof that the powers of
the Dark Goddess could remold a filthy heathen animal into an
intelligent and cultured person - that She could find the
precious gem hidden in the worthless dirt.  An experiment,
that was what he represented to Rasena.  Another possession in
her collection, another lost soul saved by the mercy of the
Goddess.  He was thankful to Rasena for freeing him from his
pitiful vampiric childhood - a frightened mongrel who hid in
the forest and could not speak nor even form a coherent
thought, the product of an insane master who'd raped him,
drained him, and abandoned him for dead.  He felt gratitude to
her for rescuing him, but not love.  And although they had
lived together for fifty years, they were strangers.  She'd
never shown herself to him, not as Natalie had done in her
innocent mortal way.

He'd spent over thirty years with Evangeline Merriweather, but
he still wouldn't claim to know her.  After all, she tended to
be eccentric - the Victorian term for crazy people with money.
In thirty years she'd never noticed that he was a boy who
never aged.  He was her porcelain doll - an imaginary daughter
to replace the family she'd never had.  He'd been tempted to
bite and run that night he'd found her in the park, but
something about her attracted his attention.  He made a
promise to stay with her, to be her daughter until she died.
Little did he know she'd live another thirty-one years.  But
he'd played his role well, taking piano lessons, learning to
sew and knit, dressing as a proper Victorian girl.  And of
course he already knew how to sing - his angelic voice often
lulled Evangeline to sleep.  And the arrangement had worked
out well.  He gave her peace of mind and comfort.  He added a
physical dimension to her alternate reality.  In return, she'd
given him a safe haven and eventually passage to the New
World.  But emotionally, she'd been more distant than Rasena.
She adored him, but she wandered in a fantasy world of her own
creation, too far gone to love or really even notice anyone in
the real world.

Natalie was different - not like any woman he'd met before.
He wanted to get close to Natalie, to learn everything about
her.  Natalie, who took pride in her work, even though it
sometimes sent her home crying.  Natalie, who liked old movies
and Disney and microwave popcorn and pillow fights, who kept a
cat for companionship, to stave off the loneliness that
threatened to consume her.  Natalie, who was a part of the
mortal world, yet so far from it, who was desperately in love
with a man she couldn't have.  Natalie, who was still afraid
of him, yet treated him with affection.  Natalie.

**************************************************************

Michael had pulled a chair out from the table.  Natalie
gratefully sank into it, watching the vampiric youth.  He had
two coffee mugs and a spoon out.  As he waited for the water
to boil, he took a sip from his own mug.  "It'll be ready
soon.  You know where Nick keeps the creamer?  Tastes better
with creamer."

Nat wondered idly how he knew that.  "Under the sink."

"The sink?  Ugh.  How gross.  You think somebody his age'd
know better."  Michael dug around under the sink, emerging
moments later with the creamer jar in his hand.  The tea pot
whistled, and he set to work.

With a flourish and a bow, he set Nat's mug on the table
before her.  "By my lady's command, one mug of hot chocolate."
Then he settled in the chair opposite her, sipping on his own
drink.

She inhaled the thick steam, but the heat of the ceramic mug
convinced her to wait a bit before taking a sip.  She looked
up, her gaze falling on Michael's mug.  The smell of warm
blood assaulted her sensitive nose.

"I can get rid of this, if you want."  He started toward the
sink, but Nat stopped him.

"That's okay.  In my line of work, you can't be squeamish.
And I'm used to Nick drinking blood."

"But you don't like it."  He hovered near the sink.

"No, I don't.  Nick wants to be mortal and mortals don't drink
blood.  He needs to stop.  He has to stop."

"But Nick is a vampire and vampires drink blood."

"I know, which is why I put up with it.  But I still don't
like it.  The more blood he drinks, the farther he moves away
from his humanity.  But you aren't Nick."

He set the mug down on the counter and resumed his seat.  "Why
does Nick want to be mortal?"  he asked, his boyish face
serious, his voice barely a whisper.

Nat thought about it for a long moment, staring into her mug
as if searching the murky depths for answers.  "I don't know
for sure.  Certainly, he is tired of killing.  He wants to
find redemption, forgiveness.  He was a very pious man, but he
lost his faith on the Crusades.  Now, he's trying to find it
again."

Michael nodded thoughtfully.  Nick had told him as much.  "But
it's more than that, isn't it?  More than fear of Eternal
Damnation?"

"He wants a normal life - to be able to walk in the sunlight,
to eat food, to have a family."  To have me, her broken heart
added silently.

"To get sick, to feel pain, to be vulnerable, to age, to die?"

"That's all part of the package."

"Yeah, I know."  Michael shook himself from his memories,
haunting images of street urchins he'd known, mortals who were
too vulnerable and felt too much pain.  "What was your
nightmare about?"  he asked.

Nat smirked.  Children were so direct.  Especially this one.
"The fire brought back some bad memories about an accident - a
fire I witnessed when I was about your age."

Michael convulsed in uncontrolled laughter, and Natalie
realized her mistake.  She'd never be Michael's age, not
unless - no, best not to think about that.  "Okay, enough.  I
get your point.  You can stop now."  She rose from her chair
and headed toward the cabinet, pausing to tousle his hair.
"It really wasn't that funny."  She stood before the open
cabinet, perusing her choices.  "Hmmm, midnight snack?"
Glancing at the clock, she amended, "Afternoon snack.
Popcorn?  No, too salty.  Soup?  Nope.  Hmm, donuts?  Lots of
sugar and fat - bad for you.  So why not?  I'd offer you one, but
I know you aren't interested."  She glanced uneasily at the
abandoned mug.  But Michael, lost in thought, failed to
notice.  Her words had triggered something deep inside him.
Nick wanted a family - a wife, children, a son?  He ran his
hands through his hair, remembering Nat's playful gesture.
The thoughts came in a sudden rush, nearly overpowering him.
An idea solidified, taking shape in the swirling chaos of
emotions and desires long forgotten.  For the first time in
centuries, he knew what he wanted.  Now, all he had to do was
go out and get it.

**************************************************************

               End Part 6 - Continued in part 7

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 7

Natalie lay curled up on the couch, engrossed in a paperback
romance.  Michael sat across from her, in the overstuffed
chair, pretending to read.  Actually, he'd been on the same
page for over an hour.  Hard to read when your attention is
concentrated elsewhere.

Natalie, unconsciously registering the scrutiny, glanced up to
find his eyes locked onto hers.  "Something wrong, kiddo?"

"You look tired Nat.  You should go to sleep."

She was touched by the child's concern.  He'd been so cold, so
distant when she'd first arrived.  As the hours passed, he
loosened up.  Now, at times, she found herself forgetting that
he wasn't just an ordinary mortal boy.  "Thanks for the
concern, Mike.  But I don't think I could sleep right now."

"The nightmares?  Or Nick's phone calls?"

"I told Nick to quit calling so I could get some sleep.  And
he's being a very good boy - he hasn't called in," she glanced
at the clock, "an entire three hours.  But I think I may be
too tired to sleep."  She rubbed her eyes.  Too tired to sleep
- now there's an oxymoron.

Michael mentally reviewed everything he knew about mortal
insomnia.  He couldn't command her to sleep - Nick had made it
a point to inform him that Nat was a resistor.  "How about
some warm milk?"

Nat chuckled.  She hadn't had a glass of warm milk since her
grandmother passed away.  "No thanks.  Sydney might take you
up on that, though."

Strike two.  Next?  "How about a back rub?"

Natalie suddenly looked uncomfortable, her brow wrinkling up
and her mouth turning down at the corners.  "I don't think
so."

Michael realized he'd gone over the line on that one.  "Just
as well - I don't know any professional masseurs in Toronto."
Michael frantically searched his mind for anything to soothe
Natalie.  Then his eyes fell on the piano.

He knew how to play; he'd even gotten compliments from Mozart.
But he rarely performed for anyone.  He considered his music
private, personal - a part of him he kept sacred for himself.
He loved to listen to music, and sometimes he sang, but very
rarely did he allow anyone to hear him play an instrument, the
piano in particular.  That honor he reserved for people he
trusted, people he ...  loved.

He stared at the piano, then at the CD player.  Nick's
collection included a number of soft, soothing pieces.  He
could let the machine play one of those for Natalie, lull her
to sleep without sharing that most intimate part of himself.

Or he could just leave Natalie alone.  Did it really matter to
him if a mortal got tired?  Adults can take care of
themselves; she didn't need him pampering her, did she?  Let
her sleep whenever she wanted to sleep.

He considered his options, weighing them carefully.

"No hot milk, no back rub.  I guess counting sheep is out?"
he asked.  She nodded.  "How about some music?  Gentle tunes
to rock you to sleep?"

Natalie considered his proposition for a moment.  "That might
work."

Michael reached over and took her book, laying it on the floor
next to the couch.  He pulled the blankets over Natalie,
tucking her in before he turned off the lamp, enshrouding the
room in darkness.

Natalie heard the boy shuffling across the room, toward the
stereo.  Of course, he didn't require light to see; his
vampiric vision worked quite nicely in the dark.  She, on the
other hand, could see nothing.  She closed her useless eyes,
relying on her ears to supply her with information.

She heard a creak as the boy settled down on the piano bench.
Soft notes filled the room.  Nat didn't recognize the piece,
but she flowed along, letting the music carry her.  And when
Michael began to sing, she allowed his voice to soothe her
frazzled nerves.

In a matter of minutes, Natalie slept soundly.  But Michael
continued to play, to keep the nightmares at bay.

**************************************************************

Unfortunately, his musical skills had not been enough to ward
off modern technology.  He jumped when the phone rang, flying
across the room in the hopes of answering it before Natalie
woke up.  It was wasted effort, however, as Natalie awoke and
was groping for the phone by the time he got there.  He handed
it to her, then turned on the light.

Her conversation with Nick didn't take long.  She crankily
demanded that he not call again, and he apologized and
promised to be home the minute the sun set.  Natalie forced
him to promise not to call again, detailing all the nasty
things she would do if he reneged on that promise again.  A
four minute interruption, but enough to wake Natalie up.

Michael played several more selections for her, pieces he had
learned from Mozart.  The music soothed her, and her anger at
the interrupted nap quickly faded.  Natalie enjoyed her
private concert immensely, but her efforts to go back to sleep
failed miserably.  So she took a shower, then curled up on the
couch to listen to stories of Michael's adventures.  He tried
to pick out the most exciting tales, but it wasn't easy.  He'd
lived a long time, but he didn't have the benefits of Nick's
wealth and apparent age.  Decades of his life had been spent
on the streets, or in brothels.  He certainly couldn't tell
Natalie those stories.  So he'd tried to embellish the few
tales he could share, dragging them out as long as he could,
even acting out scenes for her amusement.

When the phone rang at 5:46 PM, Michael groaned.  Nick again.
So much for his promise.  But to his surprise, it was
Natalie's neighbor.  The arson inspector had determined the
cause of the blaze, the building structure was sound, and
residents were being allowed back into most of the apartments,
at least the ones which were not damaged.  Natalie had been
ready to charge out the door, but Michael intervened.

"Shouldn't you go check it out?  There might be smoke damage,
or water damage.  You might not want to go back yet.  You
could go get a few of your things, and come back here.  Nick
wouldn't mind.  I'll take care of Sydney while you are gone.
Since the captain said you could have the night off, you don't
have to go to work.  We could watch the rest of the movie
tonight, if you come back," he pleaded.  At long last, Nat
gave in and agreed to leave Sydney.  She'd go to her
apartment, but she would return to the loft.

**************************************************************

Michael was lost in the pages of "Treasure Island" when he
heard the door roll open.  "Nat?"  he called, looking up.

But Nick stood in the doorway.  He surveyed the room, and,
detecting no mortal presence, asked the obvious question.
"Where is Natalie?"  His gaze pinned Michael to the couch.  If
looks could kill the undead ...

"She went to her apartment to get a few things.  Don't worry.
She'll be back soon.  Geez, Nick, you worry too much.  You
should stop - it'll give you gray hair and ulcers, you know."

"Right.  I guess I should worry about that too."  He slipped
upstairs, only to come flying back down an eyeblink later.
"What happened?"  he yelled, grabbing Michael roughly by the
shoulders, lifting him off the couch.

"What ...  what do you mean?"  Michael was suddenly very
scared.  Nick tended to be too protective of Natalie.  If he
thought anything had happened to her, Michael's life would
end.  For good this time.

"The bed is torn apart.  Sheets and pillows everywhere.  What
happened up there?"

"Oh."  Michael relaxed a fraction.  "Nat had a nightmare.
Guess she forgot to make the bed before she left."  He wisely
failed to mention the pillow fight he'd started when she *had*
tried to make the bed.

"A nightmare?"  Okay, that made sense.  Nick looked at the
frightened vampire child, realizing for the first time that
his grip was none too gentle.  He let Michael go.  "Sorry.  I
..."

Michael squirmed loose, putting some space between himself and
the older vampire.  "It's okay.  I understand.  You worry
about her crossing one of us and getting hurt.  But I said I'd
keep my fangs to myself, didn't I?"  Michael picked up the
remote and hit the button.  The shutters rolled back, and the
last rays of the evening sun filtered into the room.  Boy,
Nick had cut it very close.  "Her neighbor Patty called.  They
okayed the building, so she went to get her things.  But she
_is fine_ Nick."

"So, what did you do all day?"

"Well, she taught me to play Scrabble.  And Trivial Pursuit.
But she got mad cause I kept getting all the answers right -
like I could help it if I was there."  Nick smiled.  She'd
brought the game over one night when there had been no good
videos available to rent.  She swore she'd never play it with
him again - she had no hope of beating an
eight-hundred-year-old know-it-all.

Michael noted the smile.  Good.  Nick had been entirely too
gruff recently.  He needed to learn to chill out.  "I told her
some stories from my past, in apology for winning every game.
I think she liked that - she forgave me for being a 'smart
aleck kid.'  We watched some Disney movies.  We played with
Sydney.  Which reminds me, hope you weren't overly fond of
that vase.  Was it Ming Dynasty?"  Nick quickly glanced to the
pedestal which displayed his priceless vase.  "Just kidding.
Sydney sleeps most of the time anyway.  Let's see, what else
did we do?  We watched an American game show, but Nat said
that was worse than Trivial Pursuit.  I played your piano.
Nat really digs my Mozart.  Told her I learned it from a
master.  Then I had to tell her all about Wolfgang.  Did you
know she's really into classical?  Especially the romantic
stuff."  Nick nodded, thinking of all the raids on his CD
collection.  "We talked for awhile.  About a lot of different
stuff.  And we slept, of course.  She was pretty tired.  A
hard day, I guess."

"But Nat didn't sleep well?"

"Nope.  The phone kept ringing, for some strange, unknown
reason."  Nick gave him an appropriately cowed look, so he
left it drop.  "She told me about the car fire when she was a
kid.  Guess nearly being barbecued brought it all back.  But
she's strong, Nick.  She'll be okay."

>From the mouth of babes, Nick thought.  Aloud, he said, "When
will she be back?"

"Soon.  She didn't exactly leave me her travel itinerary."

"No, she never does.  And if she did, she'd be late anyway.
Have you eaten?"

Michael held up a glass tumbler full of red liquid.  "Thought
I'd take care of this before she gets back.  Our ...  dining
habits tend to make mortals squeamish."

"So I noticed."  Nick headed for the kitchen to take care of
his own hunger.  He stood for a moment, surveying the contents
of his refrigerator.  He glanced over the apples and the
yogurt, but his gaze lingered on the crisper drawer, where he
knew Michael kept his stash.  Then he lifted his gaze to his
own bottles of bovine blood.  In the end, he grabbed a protein
shake and slammed the door closed.

**************************************************************

               End Part 7 - Continued in part 8

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 8

Nat did indeed return soon, as Michael washed his glass and
put it away.  She nodded approvingly at Nick's supper.  "Guess
I need to make up another batch of those.  I've got an idea to
make it taste better."

Nick merely nodded.  Usually, her attempts to make the protein
drinks taste better bombed miserably, but he, the eternal
knight, was far too polite to remind her.  "Chocolate
flavored?"  he asked.  He was rewarded with a swat on the arm.
"Strawberry?"

"I ought to make it rat!"  she shot back, merriment in her
eyes.  "Or pig.  Either one would be ...  appropriate."

"Hey, I am not a carouche!"  he replied in mock anger.

"Mmmm.  I am not so sure about that.  Cow blood is, after all,
a staple in your diet."

"And you like roasted almonds.  Are you a nut case?"

She laughed.  "I hang around with you, don't I?"

"Guess that answers that."

"Yep, it does."  She looked around the room.  "Where'd Michael
go?"

Nick listened for a moment, but his sensitive ears picked up
no trace of the boy.  "Guess he slipped out for a bit of fresh
air."

"Probably got tired of listening to us.  But he'll be back -
we have a date."  At Nick's arched eyebrows, she continued.
"The conclusion of a particularly good Disney movie.  He
begged me to come back to watch it, so he'd best not stand me
up!"

"He wouldn't dare."  He moved to the kitchen to dig out the
popcorn and a bowl while Nat settled down in front of the TV,
stroking Sydney's fur.  Nick laughed at her attempts to soothe
the irritated beast.  No, Sydney did not like being abandoned
at strange places.  He didn't like it one bit.  And he was
letting her know all about it.

**************************************************************

Across town, a frazzled clerk unlocked the door to her travel
agency.  They'd been closed for an hour and she just wanted to
get her paperwork done and go home.  What was this kid doing
out at night by himself and what did he want from her?

**************************************************************

Michael returned to the loft with five minutes to spare.

"Thought you'd abandoned me," Natalie remarked, comfortably
snuggled up on the couch with Nick, a steaming bowl of popcorn
in her hands.

"Nope.  Just needed to go out for a minute - cabin fever.
Besides, I thought you and Nick could use some privacy."  He
winked, eliciting an outraged gasp from Natalie and a glare
from Nick.

Natalie and Nick took up most of the couch, so Michael settled
into a chair.  Nick might like things a bit too dark for
Michael's tastes, but at least he appreciated comfort.

They watched the movie, the vampires remaining mostly silent,
allowing Natalie her running commentary on the action.
Afterwards, they all agreed it had been very entertaining,
feasibility factor aside.  After all, if vampires exist, why
can't kids run a space ship?  That lead to a long discussion
on the reality factor, or lack thereof, in Hollywood.  Then
they moved into books, and eventually classical lit.  And then
classical mythology.

When the conversation exhausted itself, Michael innocently
suggested they all play Trivial Pursuit.  He even offered to
let the adults team up against him.  Natalie hastily packed up
her belongings and her cat, making a mad dash for the door.
Bad idea, Michael chastened himself.  But it was rapidly
approaching dawn and the dark circles under her eyes indicated
Natalie needed more sleep anyway.  So he let her leave without
protest, knowing she'd be back.

He and Nick stayed up a bit longer, talking about the
classical lit writers that Nick had known.  The only really
famous person Michael knew was Mozart, and he'd told Nick
about that already.  He played some Mozart for Nick, ending
with a lullaby.  At that point, Nick realized how tired he was
and excused himself, heading up the stairs.  He'd gotten no
sleep at the courthouse and he felt exhausted.

Michael read a few chapters from his book.  Nick had an
awesome library and he wasn't about to let it go to waste.
Then he curled up on his makeshift bed and drifted off to
sleep.

**************************************************************

               End Part 8  - Continued in part 9

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 9

Chasing, running, fear.  A dark shape looming up behind him.
Trees everywhere, branches swatting him in the face as he ran
by, twigs cutting his bare feet.  Small creatures scurrying
for cover.  Heart beating hard and fast, blood pounding.  A
din in his head, confused thoughts, eerie echoes.  A howling
wolf.  The hunter getting closer, nowhere to hide.  Nowhere
safe.  Hands reaching out for him, grabbing and clawing.  A
cold, vise-like grip.

Michael awoke suddenly, blood sweat trickling down his face.
He put his hand to his chest, willing his heart to slow and
his blood to calm.

It took him several minutes to recover enough to move.  And he
still felt the fear - the stark terror of his nightmare.  Not
to mention the loneliness - he felt alone, so terribly alone.
He looked toward the stairs, a question in the back of his
mind.  Then, in a flash, he was upstairs, in Nick's bedroom.

Nick lay motionless on the bed, flat on his back, hands
clasped over his abdomen - the picture of serenity.  Michael
stood silently, watching the man sleep, afraid that the sound
of his pounding heart might disturb the other's slumber.  He
wanted to wake his host, to hear his voice.  He leaned over
the bed and stretched his hand out to touch Nick.  Not to wake
him, just to feel his presence, to confirm that there was
indeed another person present, that he was not alone.
Suddenly, he felt an incredible pressure crushing his throat.
He squirmed, but he could not break loose.  Nick had him.  He
tried to say Nick's name, but all that came out was a squeak.

Nick's eyes opened, blazing gold.  He bared his fangs.  Then
he saw the creature he held in his fist.  Recognition replaced
the golden anger in his eyes.  The fangs retracted.  The hand
released its grip.  "Michael, what are you doing?"

He gasped a few times, steadying himself.  "I'm sorry Nick.  I
didn't mean to startle you."  A blood tear rolled down his
cheek.

"What's wrong Michael?"  There was concern in the elder's
voice.  He gently wiped the tear from the child's face.  The
small head tilted downward, and Nick saw that the boy's lips
trembled.  But he received no answer to his query.  "Michael,
what is wrong?  What happened?  Are you all right?"

The reply came in a soft and shaky whisper.  "Nick, can ...
can I sleep with you?  Please?"  The boy lifted his eyes to
gaze at his elder.

Michael saw emotions play across Nick's eyes.  Anger.  Fear.
Revulsion.  Pity.  Others he couldn't identify.  "That isn't
what I meant Nick.  You explained how you feel - I wouldn't
ask that of you.  Not until you offer."

A long pause filled the room with eerie silence.  "What do you
want?"

"To be with you Nick.  I had ...  I had a dream.  About ...
_him_.  A nightmare.  Please, Nick.  I just need to be with
someone - with you.  Please?"

Nick saw the child's fear, his pleading.  This was no coy
seduction.  Nick patted the bed next to him.  Michael climbed
in, curling up next to him but not touching him.  Nick stroked
the child's arm in a paternal gesture of comfort, then pulled
the sheets and the comforter up, covering both of them.  He
rarely used the covers, preferring to leave them folded at the
foot of the bed; after all, it wasn't like he ever got cold.
But humans seemed to find a certain comfort in snuggling up
under their blankets, and Michael needed all the comfort he
could get.

Nick normally slept on his back - an old habit - but this time
he left his arms at his sides.  He felt the mattress give as
Michael shifted his weight, searching for a comfortable
position.  After several minutes of restless shuffling, a
tentative hand snaked out, coming to rest on the elder's
chest.  Nick remained still, showing no reaction; he wasn't
comfortable with the situation, but he didn't want to spook
Michael, not with his emotional state as vulnerable as it was.
Michael was beginning to emerge from his protective shell, and
Nick would do nothing to cause him to retreat back into it.  A
certain trust was developing, but it was tenuous, fragile.
Michael had lived too hard a life to trust easily.  He gave
the appearance of trust as part of his masquerade, but the
true emotion he held back.

He felt the boy snuggling up to him, his body pressed against
Nick's.  Golden curls brushed his chin as a small head tucked
up against his neck.  The hand on his chest slid a bit lower,
coming to rest just beneath his rib cage.  Nick stiffened,
wondering where the intimate contact might lead.  Perhaps he
had been wrong after all.  Perhaps Michael wasn't learning to
trust him, but had instead chosen another method to seduce
him.  Doubts plagued his mind.  He'd tried to explain to
Michael that he didn't want the boy _that_ way, but perhaps
the message had fallen on deaf ears.  It seemed that his time
on the streets had taught Michael to view every adult male as
a trick.  It had certainly taught him that the only thing of
any value he had was his body.  Nick knew it to be a lie.
Michael was so intelligent - well learned and very cultured.
He had immense musical talents, and he spoke dozens of
languages.  He had compassion for people and, like Nick, he
often sought to help them, particularly other children.  He
had seen the child's true worth, and it went far beyond his
body.  Nick knew it; now all he had to do was convince
Michael.  He thought he'd made progress in that arena, but now
he wondered if his words had really been absorbed, or if the
youngster had merely given the responses he thought his elder
wanted to hear.

Then Nick felt the tears soaking through his silk pajamas, and
his doubts vanished.  He wrapped his arms around the crying
child, holding him close.  He felt the stiff body in his arms
slowly relax.  Michael eventually drifted off, crying himself
into a fitful sleep.

Nick stared at the ceiling.  He often had nightmares.  Battles
from the Crusades, comrades and friends screaming as they
fell, bloodied and dying.  Frightened women backing away from
him in terror, seeing his glowing eyes and his fangs, knowing
that he was death come to take them away.  Angry mobs, chasing
after the fiend with the glowing eyes.  Screaming mortals,
fleeing from him as he toyed with them, allowing them the
illusion that they could escape before he swooped in and
grabbed them.  The Inquisition, innocent souls being tortured
into false confessions while he, the demon they really sought,
escaped to freedom.  LaCroix torturing some poor mortal,
forcing a man to watch as he brutally raped his wife, draining
her, tossing her aside before he moved on to the terrified
children.  The Nazi death camps, watching as the innocent Jews
were marched into the fires, hearing their screams and knowing
there was nothing he could do, that he, a vampire, stood
powerless in the face of this great evil.  Vietnam, watching
the burned and maimed children line up, hoping he could ease
their pain, then sitting in his safe haven the next day,
listening to the artillery rounds and the gun blasts, knowing
that his efforts had been in vain, for the children were now
dead, removed from the pain of war.  But for him, the wars
never ended - they just blended together, becoming one hazy
nightmare that shook him from his sleep, trembling, blood
running down his body, soaking into the sheets.

He cradled Michael against him, holding him tight.  When Nick
woke up screaming, he always found himself alone, just him and
the shadows of nights long gone by.  No one comforted him, no
one held him until the terror receded.  He would be there for
Michael.  He had to be there.

**************************************************************

Nick woke slowly, his slumbering senses dull.  Reality seeped
in a piece at a time.  The sun had set - his vampiric senses
told him that.  There was a weight on his chest - a mortal?
No, not mortal.  No warmth.  A vampire.

He opened his eyes, gazing down at Michael.  The child vampire
lay snuggled against him, hand resting over his heart, head on
his chest, one leg flung carelessly across his legs, the other
drawn up beneath his own body.  His expression radiated
serenity, the nightmares of the previous day evaporated.  He
looked rather like an angel, lifted from a Raphael canvas and
placed in this earthly bed.  Nick smiled contentedly.  He
liked the feeling of waking with someone next to him - it was
something he could easily get used to.

Nick carefully disengaged himself from the sleeping vampire,
easing himself out of the bed.  He dressed quickly and, noting
the bloodstains on his pajamas, threw them in the hamper.  He
gazed at Michael for a moment, but the child slept soundly,
undisturbed by Nick's activities.  So Nick slipped downstairs
to drink breakfast alone.

On his way out the door, he realized he was a bit underdressed
- his gun and his holster were in the bedroom upstairs.
Wouldn't do to arrive for work weaponless.  He hastened to the
bedroom to retrieve the missing adornment, reminiscing on the
days when he'd worn a uniform and walked a beat.  The uniform
definitely rated as something he didn't miss.  And the gun?
What would the other cops say if they knew he really didn't
need it, that it was merely a prop in his play?

As he picked up the gun, Nick heard a rustling behind him.  He
turned to find Michael sitting up, yawning as he stretched.
The display reminded Nick of Sydney's waking ritual.

"Good evening.  Sleep well?"  he asked the boy.

"Mmm.  After I came up here, yeah."

"No more nightmares?"

"Nightmares?  Who had nightmares?  You know Nick, you have
good taste in furniture, but your bed is still *much* more
comfortable than the sofa."  He grinned impishly.

"I bet."  Nick grinned.  He wouldn't risk injuring the boy's
fragile ego by pushing.  It still amazed him sometimes that
Michael even trusted him enough to stay in his home.  Nick
didn't rate as an expert on children, but he knew that this
one had seen too much and done too much - had been subjected
to too much - and had suffered emotional damage from those
experiences.  He knew that was the reason so few children
survived being brought across.  Becoming a vampire tended to
be hard enough on adults.  How could a child cope?

"Going to work?"  Michael queried.

"Yep.  What do you plan to do tonight?"

"No plans, really.  Just hang out.  Maybe go to the arcade and
play some games."

Nick glared.  He remembered his visits to Jerry's Arcade, when
he'd gone to find answers on an unsolved case and had been
mistaken for a trick.  He'd hoped to convince the boy to give
up those particular games.

"Video games, Nick.  Don't worry.  I'll stay out of trouble."
Michael picked up on the elder vampire's thoughts.  His
concern was touching, but unfounded.

"Right.  I'll believe it when I see it."  Nick gave the
youngster a pat on the head before he departed.

Michael sat on the bed until he heard Nick's Caddy pull out of
the garage.  Then he jumped from the bed and raced downstairs
to find his clothes.  He had fifteen minutes to make his
plane.  Plenty of time - if he flew to the airport.

**************************************************************

               End Part 9  - Continued in part 10

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 10

An hour later, Michael sighed and looked out the window of the
747.  He knew the risks he was taking.  If Rasena ever found
out what he was about to do, he'd be toast.  She believed in a
natural order to the Universe, a supreme balance.  Light and
Dark in harmony, a harmony that had to be preserved at all
costs.  He wondered idly what Rasena would say about Nick.
The vampire in him opposed the mortal, a constant battle for
his soul.  Would Rasena approve, saying that the powers of
Light and Dark must oppose each other and Nick represented an
embodiment of that opposition?  Or would his lack of harmony
offend Rasena, prompting her to shift his entire being to one
side or the other, or perhaps to destroy him?  Michael could
not even guess.  His time with Rasena had been spent learning
- she tutored him in so many subjects.  She certainly taught
him the ways of her Goddess, the Old Ways.  But he suffered
the curse of being male, and therefore excluded from her
enclave of followers.  As a result, he never had access to the
inner-most secrets of her faith, her most private beliefs.
After nearly six hundred years, he could not guess what
position she would take.

But he knew exactly how she'd feel about him harassing one of
her most trusted followers.  And theft?  Rasena saw theft as a
perturbation to the natural order of things.  Unless, of
course, the theft restored order to chaos.  Wasn't that
Michael's mission?  To restore order to Nick Knight's chaotic
existence?  He closed his eyes and formed a prayer to the Dark
Goddess, asking Her to guide him and lend him Her strength, to
make his efforts succeed, to help him fulfill Nick's fondest
wishes.  He hadn't spoken to Her in a very long time.  He
hoped She was listening.

**************************************************************

The plane landed in Chicago and Michael disembarked, heading
immediately for the doors of the bustling terminal.  After
all, he tended to travel light - no need to visit baggage
claim.  As soon as he cleared the terminal, he took to the
air.  Time was of the essence and he wasn't going to waste it
hailing a cab.

He soared above the city, heading for the suburbs.  He hadn't
been here in almost two decades, but he knew exactly where he
needed to go.  A house in the country, far from the hustle and
bustle of big city life.  The house where one of Rasena's most
trusted lieutenants lived.  The house where he hoped to find
the key to saving Nick's soul.

He landed in the forest, well clear of the house.  The woman
inside would be aware of his approach if he simply barged in
through the skylight.  This situation required more
discretion.  He silently slipped through the trees, using
every trick he knew to mask his approach.

As he drew near the house, he saw the lights flick off.  Panic
surged.  Oh no.  He'd been spotted.  Then he heard the front
door open and saw the occupant emerge.  She headed for her
car.  Michael breathed a sigh of relief as the car pulled out
of the drive and headed down the road.  Perhaps She had heard
his pleas after all.

He slipped into the house, moving carefully and quickly
through the darkness.  Just because the occupant was gone
didn't mean the house was empty.  Nor did it mean he was safe.

The intruding vampire halted at the basement door, testing the
knob.  It turned easily in his hand.  Odd that it should be
unlocked.
He pushed it open slowly.  When nothing jumped out at him from
the darkness, he descended, choosing to hover rather than
allowing his feet to touch the wooden stairs.

He found the hidden compartment easily enough.  Super-human
senses certainly proved useful for unauthorized breaking and
entering.  He'd never actually entered the basement, although
he'd been here once with one of Rasena's followers.  She'd
commanded him to wait upstairs while the women did their thing
in the basement.  His curiosity had not been enough to
override his fear, so he'd done as he'd been told.

The chamber served as a library, a repository for many of the
ancient texts which referenced the Old Ways.  Rasena and her
followers had many such treasures stashed all over the world.
Michael wondered why Rasena chose this place, so close to the
mortal population.  Normally, she preferred deserted areas,
places where man would not interfere, to store the
irreplaceable texts.

He saw one tome open on the table.  Next to it, a second
volume lay open to a blank page.  A few seconds of browsing
told Michael everything he needed to know.  The librarian was
in the process of copying the book.  He wondered why.  What
was Rasena up to?  The answer would have to wait.

He began searching the shelves of the archive.  He knew which
book he wanted.  A red leather tome with an age-faded spine.
He found it and slid it from the shelf.  Suddenly, the volume
next to it slipped from the shelf, crashing to the floor with a
loud
bang.

Michael stood motionless, senses strained, for a full minute.
Nothing stirred.  He expelled his breath and bent to pick up
the book.  Inspecting it for damage, he found none.  He
quickly slid it back onto the shelf, shuffling a few of the
books to camouflage the empty spot.  Then he carried his
treasure closer to the only source of light in the room - a
glass lamp.

He flipped through the pages, scanning the text.  It was hard
to read, an ancient language Rasena made him learn many
centuries ago.  But if you don't use it, you lose it; he'd
definitely lost it.  He flipped through the pages, careful not
to rip the aged paper.  The translation became easier as he
exercised his rusty vocabulary.  Soon, he was speed reading.

Then he found the passage he sought.  He read it carefully,
memorizing the details.  He intended to risk Rasena's
considerable wrath and take the book, but he wanted to make
sure he had the information stored away in his brain in case
he lost the written copy somewhere.

He'd heard of the Abarat.  Rasena had shown it to him once;
during a language lesson, she'd asked him to translate a
passage - a boring piece on the healing properties of the sun.
And the woman who had brought him here before had listed it
among the works stored here.  Of course, neither woman had
bothered to tell him the true significance of the book - that
he'd learned by grilling Nick.  Before that night, all Michael
had known was that it was his duty, as Rasena's pupil and a
child of the Goddess, to protect this book, as well as all the
others.  To protect and preserve the work of the Dark Goddess.

Michael gently closed the book.  He had what he needed.  The
curious child vampire gave the half-copied work on the table
a wistful glance.  He wanted to investigate the matter, to find
answers to his questions, but he dare not.  He had no idea how
long the rightful custodian of the book he held clasped to his
chest would be gone, and he did not want her to find him in
her secret chamber.

He exited, taking great pains to cover his trail.  With luck
and a little help from the Goddess, the librarian, and thus
Rasena, would never know he'd been there.

Michael took to the skies, heading toward the city.  His return
flight didn't take-off for several hours; he'd never dreamed
his mission would be so easy and take so little time.  Yet, he
did not want to linger near the house.  Better to clear out,
put as much distance between him and the scene of his crime as
he could.  Perhaps he'd even be able to charm his way onto an
earlier flight.

**************************************************************

On a distant hill, a pair of eyes tracked the youngster's
egress from the house.  They watched as he took to the air,
tracked him until he flew out of sight.  Then the figure began
walking toward the empty house.

**************************************************************

Nick arrived home from work to find Michael curled up on the
couch, reading a copy of "Hamlet."

"To be or not to be.  That is the question."  he quoted in way
of greeting.

"Yeah, but what's the answer?"  Michael quipped back.

"Scholars have been trying to answer that for millennia.  Far
be it for me to assume."

"But those scholars weren't immortal.  You are."

"Are you sure?"

"About the scholars or about you?"

Nick let the remark go unanswered.  "Is this how you spent the
evening?  Probing the minds of the great ones, looking for
answers to the mysteries of the universe?"

Michael laughed.  If only Nick knew how accurate that
statement was.  "Yes.  And you?"

"I chased down a suspect, then spent all night interrogating
him."

"Where'd you chase him?  The city landfill?"  Michael wrinkled
his nose.  "And why interrogate when you can just dazzle him
into confessing?"

"Actually, he jumped off a fire escape and landed in a
dumpster.  And I don't use my special abilities to force
confessions."

"It's cheating, right?"  Nick nodded.  "Not to mention that
your partner might put two and two together and find a few of
the skeletons in your closet."

"Let's hope not."  Nick rolled his eyes at that thought.  It
amazed him that Tracy hadn't figured it out already, but he
believed in the old adage of seeing only what you expected to
see.  And Tracy, for all that she saw vampires under every
rock, quite firmly believed that Nick was mortal - plain,
ordinary, and mortal.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need a
shower."

"You are excused."  Michael waved him toward the stairs.  Then
a thought occurred to him.  "Nick, do you need someone to
scrub your back?"

Nick halted in his tracks.  "Michael -" he began, preparing to
go through the lengthy discussion one more time.

"I didn't mean _me_!"  the youngster protested.  "But I'd be
more than happy to call Natalie.  She mentioned that she took
a massage class in med school.  Holistic medicine or
something.  I bet she gives really good back scrubs.  I'll
call her over and you can test my theory."  He reached for the
phone.

"No Michael."  The child pulled back his hand and looked at
his prudish elder, afraid he'd gone too far this time.  But
damn him, Nick was ignoring the subtle hints!

"I'm going to take a shower.  Alone."  With that, he
disappeared upstairs.  He shook his head all the way to the
bathroom.  Kids got the strangest notions.  And this kid was
old enough to know better.

**************************************************************

               End Part 10  - Continued in part 11

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 11


Natalie stood, bent over an exam table.  She spoke into her
microphone, dictating her findings on the end of the mortal
life of the man who lay before her.  "The condition of the
subject's lungs indicate that the subject died of lung cancer
induced by smoking.  Period."  She stepped on the foot pedal,
turning the machine off.  "Smoked himself into an early grave.
Why are some people in such a hurry to kill themselves?"

"Sure isn't because they look good sprawled out on your table.
Yuck.  What a mess."

Nat jumped.  She thought she'd been alone, except for the man
on the table.  And he certainly wasn't in any position to
comment.

"Sorry.  Didn't mean to startle you."  He sounded like a
broken record.  He never intended to sneak up on her, but he
forgot how quietly he moved.  It was, at most, a minor
annoyance, however, and one he intended to remedy soon.

"Michael."  She hadn't expected to see him here; Nat didn't
even know he knew where she worked.  He seemed out of place in
the cold autopsy room.  An angel come down from heaven to view
the dead.  She shuddered at the image.  Why did she think of
him as an angel, when his habits placed him more at the
opposite end of the scale?

She covered the body and ushered the boy towards her desk.
"What can I do for you?"

"Can you come by the loft after work?"

She thought about it, although her social calendar certainly
didn't need to be consulted.  It would only say the same thing
it said most nights:  Go home.  Eat dinner.  Feed Sydney.
Take a bath.  Research a cure for Nick.  Go to Bed.  That was
her established routine, although the order changed at times,
particularly when Sydney felt the need to change it.

Still, she had been rather looking forward to a good soak in
some hot water.  Anything to relieve her tired, sore muscles
and rid herself of this formaldehyde smell.  But her curiosity
got the best of her, as it usually did.  "I suppose.  Is
something up?"

"I have a surprise."  His eyes gleamed, his lips curled into
that "I've got a secret" grin that only a child can perfect.

"What kind of surprise?"  She didn't really want to guess.

"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you.  Don't
worry.  You'll like it.  Something I picked up for you and
Nick.  So, will you come?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Maybe I intend to give you the world."

She laughed.  This kid could be so cute sometimes.  "Well, I
imagine I could find something to do with it.  My own planet.
Imagine that."

Michael grinned.  If only she knew.  Then he did something
that shocked them both.

He stepped in front of Natalie, levitated a few feet above the
ground, and placed a kiss on her cheek.

Before she could ask him about it, he was gone.

**************************************************************

Michael landed in an alley behind an Italian restaurant.  His
heart raced - an unusual circumstance for the undead.  He had
no idea what had come over him at the morgue.  It just seemed
natural, to kiss her like that.  He'd never done it before.
And he doubted he'd ever do it again.  Nick would see to that.
As soon as he found out, he'd come looking to present Michael
with a stake dinner.  Ash wood with a little A-1 sauce,
anyone?  Michael giggled.  Oh well.  If Nick got angry, he got
angry.  There would be time to deal with that later.  For now,
he had plans to set in motion.

Looking up, he read the sign over the delivery entrance of the
restaurant.  Perfect.  He hadn't been paying attention to
where he landed - he'd been flying blind.  But he could not
have chosen a better spot.  He said a silent thanks to the
Dark Goddess as he slipped inside.  She appeared to be
supporting his plans in Her own strange way - guiding him
along - for which he was eternally grateful.

**************************************************************

Nick clocked out and headed for the morgue.  He'd been by
earlier in the shift to collect the lab results on an apparent
overdose.  Nat had seemed fine, but he needed to check on her
again, just to be sure.  Maybe he'd even follow her home,
spend a few hours with her.

He walked in to find her staring off into space, an odd
expression on her face.  Nick shifted his plans.  Perhaps he
should just offer to draw the curtains and spend the day at
her place.

"Nat?"  No response.  "Nat?"  He waved a hand in front of her
face.

Her eyes focused on the intruder.  "Nick."

"You feel like joining us back on Earth?"

"You're one to talk, mister."

He grinned.  "Okay.  At least you don't space out while
driving.  One point in your favor."

"Not to mention a wonderful deduction on my car insurance.
So, what can I do for you?"

"Shift's over.  Time to go home."

She glanced at the clock.  "So it is."  She shed her lab coat,
allowing Nick to help her into her trench coat.  She grabbed
her purse.

"Have any plans for tonight?"  he asked innocently.  Of course
she didn't.  But it would be rude to just invite himself over.

"Actually, I do."  She turned just in time to see the shock
register in his face.  Ah ha!  Caught you on that one, didn't
I?  But she chose not to antagonize.  "It seems that I have
been invited over to your place."

A puzzled look creased his brow.  "My place?"

"Michael dropped by earlier and asked me to come to the loft
after work."

"Michael?"  Bewilderment gave way to ire.  How dare he ...

"Lighten up Nick.  You're turning into a sourpuss."  Nat
laughed and punched him in the arm.  He could be so much fun
to play with sometimes.

"Did he happen to mention why he invited you over?"  Nick
hoped it wasn't another ploy like last night.  Calling her
over to scrub his back?  What was the kid thinking?  He'd been
tempted to ask after his shower, but thought better of it.
Some things were not worth knowing.  He'd just have to keep
his guard up until Michael played out his little game.

Nat shook her head, dislodging a curl that Nick quickly tucked
back behind her ear.  "Nope.  Just that he had a surprise for
us - that he was going to give us the world."

She walked out the door, flipping off the light.  Nick
followed, his vampiric vision easily guiding him across the
darkened lab.  He shook his head.  He didn't like the sound of
this.  What could that crazy kid be up to?

**************************************************************

               End Part 11  - Continued in part 12

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 12


Nick tried to beat Nat to his loft, but the traffic lights
weren't very accommodating.  He considered flying, but ruled
it out.  He'd just have to come back for the car later.  And
it might upset Nat - she felt smothered by his protective
nature sometimes.

She pulled up behind him and they entered the elevator
together.  Nat sensed his unease and took his hand without a
conscious thought.  Their relationship was such an unusual
blend of platonic intimacy.  The gesture seemed natural.

The door slid open and suddenly Nick wished he'd flown.  That
way he could have beaten Natalie to the loft, staked Michael,
and had plenty of time to straighten up before Natalie
arrived.

The dim light provided by a single candelabra shed a hazy glow
on an intricate dinner laid out on the table.  Two settings, a
bottle of wine, covered silver serving dishes, a single red
rose in a bud vase.  Very elegant.  Scents drifted toward the
elevator - Italian.  Soft music wafted through the air - the
adagio of Mozart's piano concerto in A major.  A fire crackled
in the fire place, a down comforter and several large pillows
carefully arranged before it, creating an inviting place to
snuggle up.

Natalie held her breath.  It was lovely.  Romantic.  Perfect.
How long had she dreamed of Nick doing something like this for
her?  She'd caught Michael's subtle innuendo, his
poorly-veiled attempts to bring them together.  His insisting
that they share the couch and let him have the chair.  His
frequent trips from the room, to grant them privacy.  His
recommendation that Nat spend the night upstairs with Nick and
not to worry, he'd be fine on the couch.  It warmed her heart.
A six hundred year old child playing cupid for a love-sick
mortal and a lonely vampire, conspiring without realizing that
his plans had been revealed.

Nick's thoughts were less benevolent, more homicidal.  In
their long discussions these last few nights and in his
previous visits, Michael had hinted that he wanted to see Nick
and Natalie together in an intimate way.  The child seemed
obsessed with the idea, actually.  Nick tried to explain that
it simply wasn't possible.  Vampires lacked the capacity to be
intimate with humans.  He thought he'd explained the blood
lust, but obviously he'd failed.  Michael's perception of
intimacy, much less adult relationships, left a great deal to
be desired.  The child wanted to be a matchmaker, no matter
how ill-conceived the idea was.  Little did he know just how
dangerous his scheme could be.

Michael materialized at the foot of the stairs.  "I was
starting to think you guys weren't coming home."

"Michael.  What is the meaning of this?"  Nick growled.

"This?"  He gestured toward the table.  "I believe it is
called dinner.  A curious mortal custom.  Perhaps you've heard
of it?"

Nick would have lunged if Nat hadn't tightened her grip on his
arm.  "It's lovely Michael."

The boy grinned affectionately.  "Glad you like it.  I guess
I'll leave you two alone to celebrate."  He moved toward the
elevator.

"Celebrate what?"  Nat asked while Nick ground his teeth.

"Oh.  I almost forgot."  He retreated to the living room,
retrieving a large box from the couch.  He handed the wrapped
parcel to Nat.  "Here's the surprise I told you about.  Come
over here and open it."  He guided her to the couch, Nick
trailing along behind.

She sat down, looking at the ornately wrapped gift.  Her eyes
locked onto Michael's, filled with questions.  "Go on, open
it," he prompted.  "Open it.  Geez.  You must be loads of fun
at Christmas."

Natalie tore into the wrapping, scattering shreds of silver
wrapping paper on the floor.  She finally held the plain white
box, her hands poised and ready to lift the lid.

Nick groaned.  Visions of possible contents swam in his head.
A flaming red negligee, with a matching sheer robe?  A lacy
garter belt and a corset?  Something to make Nat look
irresistible?  Or maybe a matched set?  A black silk teddy for
her and a black g-string for him?  His eyes turned the
slightest tint of gold.

She lifted the lid and tossed it aside.  Gently, she parted
the tissue paper.  Nick inhaled sharply as she withdrew the
book.  An ancient text, its red leather cover intact but
abused, aged.  He held his breath.

"What is it?"  Nat asked, clearly confused.  She gingerly
opened it, scanning the first page.  The art work took her
breath away.  Intricate designs graced the margins.  Even the
print was beautiful - a strange calligraphy.

"Oh, nothing much.  Just what may well be the last remaining
copy of the Abarat."

Nick dropped to the couch, his knees suddenly too weak to hold
him.  He stared in stunned silence, any hint of his former ire
gone.

Natalie wasn't able to contain her enthusiasm quite so well.
"The Abarat?"  she squealed.  "Oh Nick - the Abarat.  The
cure!  Oh Nick!"  She sank into his arms, unable to throw her
arms around him because of the prized clutched in her hands.
Her face beamed and she appeared ready to burst with
excitement.

"Where?"  Nick stuttered, looking at Michael, his eyes wide
with amazement.  He'd searched so long, so hard, only to have
a laughing LaCroix throw his treasure into the fire.  Now, to
find it again -

"It's best not to ask.  Just take my word for it:  it's the
genuine article."

Nick gently took the book from Natalie, studying the first
page.  The text eluded him, even with his archeology
background.  "I'll need someone to translate it."  He began
running names through his mind.  So intense was his
concentration, he missed Michael's waving hand.

"Nick, I can translate it."

Nick's look conveyed his disbelief.  The youngster protested.
"Hey, I've learned a few things in my time."

"Rasena?"  Nick asked.

"Who else?"  came the answer.

The two adults stared at each other.  They'd worked so long
and hard to find a cure.  Now that it had been dropped into
their laps, literally, they had no idea how to react.

"Well, I'm going out for a few hours.  I'll be back by
sunrise.  Don't let your dinner get cold."  With that, Michael
vanished, leaving the stunned couple sitting motionless on the
couch.

**************************************************************

               End Part 12  - Continued in part 13

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 13


He returned hours later to find the happy couple curled up on
the pillows in front of the blazing fire, Nick cradling
Natalie to his chest and whispering softly in her ear.  Much
to his dismay, they were both fully clothed.  Too bad, but he
guessed there would be time for that later.

Nick sensed the boy's approach and tilted his head, redirecting
his attention from his beloved to the newly-arrived vampire.

"Hi guys!"  Michael greeted them as he surveyed the scene.
Natalie had eaten her dinner, and the bottle of wine was
nearly empty.  Nick's plate sat, clean and untouched, on the
table - no surprise there.  And the Abarat lay on the floor
beside Nick, within arm's reach; he was not taking any chances
this time.  Not that LaCroix would be a problem.  Michael had
seen to that.  A few phone calls, a lead or two planted, a
wild goose chase organized.  Nope, LaCroix wouldn't be back in
Toronto for several days.  Michael considered it a stroke of
genius - sending LaCroix off to track down a fictional cure
that he feared Nick was close to discovering, leaving Michael
to present the real cure unhindered.  Absolute genius.
LaCroix would be furious if he discovered the trickery, but
he'd be too late to undo what had been done - the Abarat cure
included a protection against the newly-mortal vampire being
brought across again.  LaCroix wouldn't be able to do anything
about his son's condition.  Or his grandson's.

"Michael, " Nick started, hesitating, overwhelmed.  "I - I
don't know how to thank you."

"Nick, I brought you the Abarat to thank you for everything
you did for me.  Not the other way around.  I just want
everyone to be happy."

"We are, Michael.  We are."  Natalie allowed the dreamy
expression on her face to linger for a moment before her more
professional side took control.  "I'd like to get started on
this as soon as possible.  Can you translate for us?"  She
held the book out to the boyish vampire.

"I already have."  He walked over to the desk and pulled a
sheet of paper from the drawer.  "Worked on it last night,
after Nick went to bed.  It really isn't that complicated.
Herbs mostly."

Natalie shook her head in disbelief, accepting the paper from
his hands.  "Somehow, I was expecting something -"

"Magical?"  Nick supplied.

Michael chuckled.  "Sorry to disappoint.  Some of it may seem
like old superstitions and magic to your modern mind, but it
is all quite natural.  Isn't that the basis of modern
medications?  Plants and roots and animal parts that our
ancestors gathered and made into brews and ointments, which we
now synthetically produce in factories and sell in drug
stores?"

"Of course.  It's just that I tried so many drugs and medical
cures for this virus -"

Nick cut Natalie off.  "And you'd given up hope of finding
anything that worked.  You thought that maybe vampirism was some
kind of mythical condition instead of a curable disease?"  She
nodded, and suddenly he understood - her frustration, her
disappointment, her exhaustion.  It wasn't only because he
gave in to the beast, backsliding, undoing all of her hard
work.  She also doubted herself, her abilities.  Her faith in
modern science had been shaken to the core.  Nick suddenly
understood.  He drew her close, hugging her to him in a silent
display of love and understanding.

Natalie scanned the ingredients list.  "This is not going to
be easy.  Some of this stuff is common.  Celandine,
eucalyptus, fennel, vervain, willow bark, anise, tuneric.  I'm
sure we can get all that.  And catnip?  A feline stimulant in
a vampire cure?"  Michael nodded his head, meowing at Nick's
shocked expression.  "Okay.  Maybe Sydney will share.  But
some of this stuff is pretty exotic."

"Not if you know where to look," Michael amended.

"Africa?  Asia?  Some of this isn't indigenous to the
continent.  Well, Nick.  I hope you are up to a safari to the
Amazon jungles and a trip to the Forbidden City."

"Not necessary, Natalie."  Michael scolded.  "Everything on
that list is obtainable right here in Toronto."  He stared
into a pair of disbelieving eyes.  "Really.  I checked."

"So no safari?"  Nick asked.

Michael sighed.  Leave it to Nick to discover humor just when
he needed to get serious.  "No safari.  Just a trip to the
local magic shop.  And the blood bank."

"And you've scoped this all out?"  Nick asked.

"Yes.  There's an apothecary in China Town who has most of
what's on the list - the herbs, the roots, the mushrooms, the
incense, the clay vessel.  The candles we can get at a Wiccan
supply store."

"Wiccan supply store?"  Natalie questioned.  That was one she
didn't recall seeing in the phone book.

"Well, not a store really.  A shop a local runs out of his
home.  He dips candles and dries herbs.  Stuff like that.  But
he's helpful and he doesn't ask questions."

Nick, the eternal skeptic, expressed his disbelief.  "Do we
really need candles?  Looks like mumbo-jumbo to be."

"It may be.  I prefer to go by the book.  Taking shortcuts is
not a good idea."  Michael knew it from experience, from
Rasena's teachings.  The Old Ways may seem odd to modern man,
but nothing in the old rituals was put there just for grins.
He knew he could never explain that to Nick and Natalie.
Their scientific minds were simply too quick to dismiss things
they hadn't seen with their own eyes.  He just hoped they
would take his word for it.

"If you say so."  Nick didn't feel like arguing.  "So, anyone
feel up to a shopping trip?"

**************************************************************

Nick's suggestion had come at dawn - too late for the vampires
to be out and about.  Natalie offered to run the errands for
them, but both immortals refused.  There'd been too many
problems in China Town recently - gang activity, muggings,
rapes.  Even in broad daylight, Nick doubted Natalie's safety.
And Michael insisted that his contact didn't like publicity
and wouldn't appreciate the location of his home being
advertised.  So it was decided that the shopping would wait
until nightfall.

In the meantime, Nick and Natalie basked in each other's
presence, overjoyed that soon their fantasies would become
realities.  They spoke of houses with white picket fences and
bay windows.  Natalie composed a list of all the foods she
would cook for Nick, but he refused, saying that it was time
he make up for all those times he'd refused to take her out.
They planned strolls through the park and along the beach,
picnics and boat rides.  Nick wanted to go fishing.  Natalie
had a Caribbean cruise in mind.

And of course they talked of children - the family they would
start, their family.  The babies they would have.  Then the
discussion turned serious.  They'd have to leave Toronto
immediately.  The Abarat stated that the cure could not be
reversed, that the cured vampire could not be brought back
across.  It said nothing, however, about enraged vampires
being unable to kill the recent convert and the mortal he
loved.

Nick feared LaCroix's revenge.  He knew his master would be
furious to find that his creation had slipped from his grasp.
Nick already had plans worked out, plans he'd started four
years ago, when Natalie had first begun working on his cure.
He had contacts, people other than Aristotle who could set up
new identities for himself and Natalie.  He'd secretly
purchased homes in various parts of the world - Canada,
France, England, the US - to ensure that he had a safe place
to hide.  His most valuable possessions, the things he refused
to leave behind, could be packed in a matter of hours.  His
money could be shifted into untraceable accounts - some of it
already had been.  He'd covered his tracks carefully; the
chance that LaCroix could track them would be very slim.

Yet, the shadow of doubt lingered, tainting Nick's joy.
Natalie sensed the emotion and guessed at its cause, holding
him tight and whispering reassurances into his ear.  She loved
him and she didn't care.  She'd dealt with the risks for four
years and she wasn't about to let them get to her now.  Not
when they were so close, so very close.  She could reach out
and touch her dreams.  LaCroix wouldn't steal them from her.

They fell asleep in each other's arms, Nick planting gentle
kisses on his love's face, knowing that soon, very soon, he
would be able to do so much more.  They slumbered in front of
the cooling embers.  And upstairs, tucked into Nick's bed,
Michael dreamed.  Dreams of a home, a dog, Little League,
pizza and banana splits, friends, birthday parties - a family,
a real childhood.  Soon, very soon.

**************************************************************

               End Part 13  - Continued in part 14

Warning: mild adult content. See part 1 for disclaimers.  Other
Michael stories
can be obtained from http://home.sprynet.com/sprynet/looscann or
by mailing
LoosCanN@aol.com.  This story will be archived on the above
mentioned
web page once it has been posted, should you need missing parts.

                The Parent Trap - Part 14


They split up.  The Abarat ritual called for the vampire to be
fully feed.  Since Nick's stock didn't include pure human
blood, Natalie went to the coroner's building.  Being the one
in charge had its advantages.  No one questioned her off-duty
presence in the building; after all, she had a reputation as a
workaholic - a reputation she'd earned by putting in a lot of
extra hours working on Nick's cure.  She slipped out with a
cooler full of blood tucked under her arm and some city
property stashed in her purse.  No one even noticed her.

Michael paid his supplier a visit.  The man had helped him
several times before, mostly by supplying the herbs he'd
needed to cure the ailments of the kids who lived on the
streets.  Rarely did he involve himself so directly in their
private affairs, but occasionally, he'd come upon one who
desperately needed help and refused to go to the hospital.
Bruises, cuts, burns, broken bones, and torn rectums - damage
inflicted by cruel tricks, many of whom had later paid the
price for their abuse.  Coughs, fevers, and infections - the
legacy of spending too many cold and hungry nights on the
streets.  He knew how to heal it all - Rasena had included
herbal medicine in her tutelage, although Michael never
understood why; as a vampire, he would never need it.  But the
skill had come in handy from time to time and it would be
vital now, so who was he to question?

Nick took the apothecary in China Town.  Michael had supplied
him with a list of everything he'd need; his job was that of a
messenger.  He entered the store, attracting the attention of
the elderly woman behind the counter.  Odd, she didn't get
many Caucasians in her store, and now she'd had two in as many
nights.  Mostly, she provided cures to the Asian population,
many of whom did not trust doctors.  But, she would be happy
to take this round-eye's money.  She hummed to herself as she
moved about the store, filling his order.  Such a nice young
man, and fluent in Chinese, too.  But she sensed something in
him.  An illness - a great burden weighing on his soul.  By
his choice of medicines, she knew he intended to try to lift
that burden soon.  As she sent him out the door, she silently
wished him luck.

The trio met back at the loft.  Nick arrived first.  He set
his purchases on the counter as he hit the button on the
answering machine.  It was Reese, apologizing for interrupting
after he'd said the detective could have the night off, but
the Crown really needed the paperwork on the Madison case.
The family's attorney wanted to push it to trial and there
were preparations to be made.  Could he please come in and
help Tracy for a few hours?

Nick felt guilty about abandoning Tracy.  He wouldn't even be
able to say goodbye.  What would she think when he suddenly
vanished?  She'd probably be furious that he'd stuck her with
all their paperwork.  And when she found out Nat was missing
too, well, she'd be thrilled; Michael wasn't the only one
playing matchmaker and Tracy would make the natural assumption
that they'd run off together.  Then she'd get a new partner
and her life would go on.

His only real regret was Jannette - he'd never see her again.
Would she know that he'd finally found what he'd sought for so
long?  Would she be happy for him?  Or would she feel the
connection break and fear the worse - that he'd been killed?
He had no way to know.

Natalie had arrived then, breaking his train of thought.  She
stashed the blood in the refrigerator and began to remove her
stolen booty from her purse.  A scalpel, a small scale, a
package of syringes, a box of slides, a bundle of filter
papers.  She wished that she'd been able to bring a
microscope, but that was out of the question.  And they'd all
agreed that this particular experiment had best be conducted
in secrecy.  Nat couldn't begin to imagine the backlash if
Grace or Tracy walked into the morgue and found empty bags of
blood all over the counter, a strange brew smoldering over a
fire, and a soon-to-be ex-vampire changing back into a mortal.
This operation definitely required privacy.

Michael was the last to return, his bundle of candles tucked
under his arm.  He looked sheepishly at the floor, refusing to
meet Nick's eyes at first.  Nick grew uneasy.  He recognized
the reaction - it was how Michael behaved when he'd done
something he knew Nick didn't approve of.  Nick wondered
exactly what form of payment the candle maker had requested.
After all, Michael hadn't asked for money before he'd left.
Or had Michael made another stop on his way?  Nick decided not
to ask - he knew he wouldn't like the answer.

Natalie had carefully arranged the supplies they would need on
the counter.  She added the candles, carefully surveying her
raw materials to see that nothing was missing.  "Okay, I guess
I'm ready to begin.  Nick?"  Her eyes searched his, looking
for any sign of hesitation.

But it was Michael who spoke up.  "Wait a minute, Nat."

They stood at the counter, hands clasped, looking at the small
vampire, questioning him without saying a word.  "I found the
Abarat.  I think I should go first," he said.

Nick began to protest, but a slender white hand waved his
objections away.  "News flash, Nick.  I want to mortal again
too.  I want to have a father and a mother.  I want to grow up
like a normal kid, to become an adult.  To fall in love and
have a family of my own someday.  I want all that too."  He
saw Nick's face cloud with anger and confusion.  He felt for
the boy, but he would not be denied his prize so easily.
"Don't worry Nick.  I had you buy enough stuff to make two
servings.  There will be plenty potion for both of us.  And
Nat brought enough blood to feed an undead army.  That isn't
the problem.  Think about it for a minute, Nick.  I'm
LaCroix's grandson - a generation removed.  If I suddenly go
bonkers, he won't feel it.  If something happens to you,
however, he WILL feel it and he'll come running.  Now, I got
rid of him by sending him to Malaysia, but do you honestly
think an ocean will keep him away if he thinks you are in
danger?  So let me try it first.  Let Natalie monitor me and
see what happens.  If all goes well, then we can whip up a
second batch for you."

Nick thought it over.  Michael was correct, of course.  And
his revelation came as a shock.  Nick could guess what brought
it on.  Natalie, however, decided to voice the question.

"Michael, you never said anything about wanting to be mortal."

"Nope, I sure didn't.  But does it really surprise you?"  He
didn't wait for a response.  "I didn't exactly have a normal
childhood.  I toured with the choir, so I had friends to run
and play with, but I left my family behind.  And after I came
across, I decided I didn't need anyone but myself.  That's all
changed now.  I spent time here, with you, and I don't want it
to end.  I don't want Nick to have to leave me because someone
might notice he isn't aging.  I don't want to have to leave.
And I don't want to always be worried that I might lose
control and hurt you Natalie.  Or that a vampire might come
looking for me and find you instead.  And I want to see the
two of you together, to see you happy.  Not to know that it
happened - to see it!"  His voice, which had increasingly
grown louder, suddenly quieted to a whisper.  "I want to be
your son.  Your mortal son."

Nick drew the boy into his arms, hugging him close.  "You will
be," he whispered as Natalie drew both vampires into her
embrace.  "You will be."

Michael savored the embrace for a moment before squirming
free.  "I won't be if we don't get a move on.  Nat, you said
you're ready.  So get on with it."

He and Natalie began preparing the ingredients, Michael
supplying conversions and packing away unused portions as
Natalie weighed and measured, placing the required amounts on
the round filter papers and setting them aside.  Nick lit the
candles, placing them as the Abarat instructed, although he
doubted that color and position really mattered in the end.
He then set the iron stand over the candles.  He lit the
hand-dipped incense stick as Michael carefully measured the
water and oil into the clay pot and placed it on the stand.
Then they waited, some more patiently than others.

"So, now we just sit here and wait until the green candle
burns out?"  Nick asked.

Michael responded with a shake of his head.  Wasn't he
supposed to be the one asking every five minutes if they were
there yet?  "Yes, we wa