The Way Back part 1/3 Sharon Nuttycombe avalon@terranet.ab.ca July 15, 1996 ************************************************************ This is a Nick and Natalie happy-ending/romance story that I wrote way back in Season 2 when Janette and Schanke were still around. Although I liked the ending of Last Knight, this is my take on a happier, gentler finish for the series. It is not quite NC -17, although part two is pretty warm. PS. - I thought of this idea for a cure well before Season 3. Honest. I would appreciate any comments or criticism, about story, style, or anything else you care to mention. Thank you. Acknowledgements: Thanks to Linda Campbell for racking up really huge phone bills to help me with my stories. Disclaimer: Nick, Nat, and the rest do not belong to me. I've only borrowed them. I promise to return them before they are overdue... ************************************************************ The Way Back part 1/3 Natalie shifted her suitcase to her left hand and scrabbled in her purse for her door keys. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked the door and entered her apartment, dropping the suitcase in the middle of the floor. Kicking off her shoes, she plugged in the coffee-maker, then shrugged out of her coat and sank gratefully into her favourite easy-chair. Jet lag and exhaustion seemed to drag at her. "I need a vacation to recover from my vacation," she thought. All the same, it had been an enjoyable two weeks. She couldn't remember the last time she had gotten away from everything and everyone. It was just what the doctor ordered... "Although touring thirteen European countries in fourteen days wasn't exactly what one could call relaxing..." she thought ruefully. Nevertheless, it was good to know she still had the stamina to keep up with the younger crowd. That was why she had taken one of those eighteen to thirty-five tours. In a way, it was a kind of test...or a last futile attempt to hold onto her youth. Lately Natalie had begun to feel...well, not old exactly, but definitely mature. Time seemed to be racing by faster and faster, and there were so many things she had never done - like touring Europe at a dead run, for example. And so, after a particularly stressful day at the office, she had dropped everything, handed Sydney over to a neighbour, and taken some of her long overdue vacation time. And the fact that she had been slightly miffed at a certain detective who never aged while she had pulled out two grey hairs that morning had absolutely nothing to do with her decision - really. Besides, it felt good to remind certain people that she was not to be taken for granted. "I wonder if he missed me," she mused, sipping her coffee. Reminded of Nick, Natalie leaned forward and opened her purse. She smoothed open the much-folded, yellowed piece of paper inside it and stared down at the thick Romanian script. "I have got to get this translated," she thought, chewing on her lip. There was probably nothing to it, but still...Natalie closed her eyes, thinking of the cluttered bookstore where she had found it. * * * It had been on day seven, or possibly eight, of her whirlwind tour, that Natalie had found herself in a tiny, remote village in Romania. "Dracula Country," she had thought whimsically and, having a few precious hours to herself, had hired a cab and headed toward the unpronouncable village she had chosen by the scientific method of closing her eyes and touching her fingertip to a map. Once there, she had wandered around aimlessly while her cab driver slouched in his seat, smoking a foul-smelling cigarette. It was almost as if she were meant to find it. Natalie still wondered about that -- if vampires could exist, then perhaps the concept of Destiny or Fate was not as far- fetched as she had once imagined. If this scrap of paper turned out to be what she suspected, the coroner was going to have to rearrange her world view -- yet again. As Natalie had wandered through the quiet village, meeting no-one and seeing nothing very interesting, a cluttered window had caught her attention. Books. Lots of them. Natalie had paused for a moment, then dove into its murky depths. It was even more crowded inside. A layer of dust covered the store's contents and hung thickly in the air. Natalie sneezed, then moved forward. She wandered randomly down the aisles, noting that very few titles seemed to be in English. Ignoring the watchful gaze of the store owner, she stopped suddenly as the word "vampyr" leapt out of her. "Dracula country, indeed," she thought, concealing a grin. On a whim, she pulled the book from the shelf. A chill crawled down her spine. This book was old. Very old. Though written in what appeared to be Romanian, it was full of illustrations of the artist's conception of vampires. Suppressing a shudder at some of the more graphic details, she started to reshelve it. As she did, a brittle piece of paper fell out from between two pages and fluttered to the floor. She bent to pick it up, and was suddenly confronted by the storekeeper who appeared in front of her. The old woman was speaking rapidly in Romanian and pointing to her watch, then waving at the door. Time to go. Unthinkingly Natalie pocketed the scrap of paper as the woman shepherded her back out into the late afternoon sunlight. It was late. She would miss her tour-group if she weren't careful. Natalie turned and hurried back to the waiting taxi. It was not until she was safe in the back seat and well on her way back to civilization that she remembered the paper. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew it, then unfolded it. Despite being written in what was presumably Romanian, it was a description of some form of chemical. That much was evident. The word "vampyr" appeared throughout. Natalie frowned, then folded it away again, tucking it safely into her purse. * * * Natalie brushed a wisp of hair behind her ear and stared broodingly at the noxious blend of herbs and chemicals she had created in a beaker. It bubbled and seethed like something out of a Frankenstein movie "And not the Kenneth Brannagh version either," she thought. The smell was...memorable. She didn't think even her considerable powers of persuasion could convince Nick to drink this... She had taken the paper to a friend at the University who, between bouts of laughter, had translated it for her. The first part had been in extremely melodramatic prose, and had been the source of her friend's mirth. Still, once you got past the bad Boris Karloff dialogue, the document was a pretty fair summation of the physical and biological makeup of a vampire. It had probably been written that way on purpose, Natalie mused, stirring her concoction, in order to hide it's true value. If she had not have firsthand access to a real live (in a matter of speaking) vampire, she would have laughed too. But there was a vampire in her life, and the import of the paper had nearly made her choke. For, according to the part at the end, the compound described was really a cure for vampirism, guaranteed to return said vampire to the sad state of mortality. It was at this point that Natalie began to give credence to Destiny, Fate, and lots of other things beside. So here she was, imitating one of MacBeth's three witches, boiling and bubbling over her own cauldron. It might all be a grandiose joke and a complete waste of time, but Natalie couldn't ignore any possibilities, no matter how unlikely. Too much depended on it. She probably had Nick to thank for her willingness to keep her mind open to extreme possibilities, she mused with a smile. According to the instructions, the liquid was supposed to be consumed mixed with blood. It was at this point that her translator had had some difficulties. Blood was definitely a necessary ingredient, and it had to be human blood. That much was clear. It was after that, though, that things became a little hazy. Natalie's friend couldn't give any specifics. Of course, the woman had had a little difficulty taking the whole thing seriously, but still... Natalie had decided to mix the compound first and then worry about how to get Nick to drink it. She certainly wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea of having to force this foul-smelling liquid into anybody, least of all Nick. A little logical experimentation was definitely in order first... The coroner gave her brew a final stir then reached for a quantity of human O negative. She poured a small amount into the bubbling fluid, trying to breath only through her mouth. The first drop of blood hit the liquid, and it began to churn wildly. Alarmed, Natalie dropped the mixer and leapt backwards, just in time, as the beaker exploded. Simmering red liquid erupted like Vesuvius, mixed with shards of glass. Natalie dove behind her desk as clouds of pink gas rolled towards her. Deciding on discretion as the better part of valour, she swept up her notes and bolted from the room. Behind her, the fluid began to eat through the tiles on the floor. * * * Three days later, the odor still clung tenaciously to Natalie's lab. The damage to the floor tiles was not too bad; they were pitted in places, but not so much that anyone would really notice -- at least not if they were legally blind. Still, Natalie decided she could live with it...and her clients never complained. Ever. The coroner's mood and nerves, however, were in much worse shape. She had weathered numerous mad scientist jokes and she was beginning to wonder if the fumes were ever going to come out of her hair. She had noticed people leaving hastily whenever she entered a room... A return visit to her hilarious friend had ironed out some of her difficulties, though. The names of a few Medieval herbs had changed over the years, it seemed. After an extended shopping spree, Natalie had found the correct ingredients and had (cautiously) reproduced her experiment, the implications of which were _extremely_ disturbing. Natalie chewed at her bottom lip as she scrubbed the beaker clean. She was definitely going to have to do some thinking. * * * Nick was worried about Natalie. She wasn't herself. She had been preoccupied and abrupt ever since her return from Europe. Whenever he asked what was bothering her, she changed the subject. And then there was her behaviour... Practically the first thing she had done upon her return to the office had been to drag him into her office and roll up his sleeve. "I know you missed experimenting on me," he had tried to joke, "But don't you think this is going a little too far?" "What?" She had paused, a needle poised in her hand. "What about 'Hi Nick. It's good to be back. I had a nice trip. I brought you a present...' That sort of thing." "Oh." She blinked. "Hi Nick. It's good to be back. I had a nice trip." A smile flashed across her face. "As for a present...well, you might want to reserve judgement on that..." With no further warning, she plunged the needle into his vein. He didn't exactly flinch, but he was nevertheless surprised. Normally she had a much better bedside manner than this. Avoiding the sight of his blood seeping into the syringe, he asked: "Do I get an explanation, or are you just committing random acts of violence?" "No to both." With a flourish, Natalie removed the needle and turned to put it safely on the counter behind her. Nick arose and stared at her. "Nat?" She had almost forgotten his presence. "Oh. Nick. Um...can we talk about this later? I've got a lot to do." The look on his face was priceless, and she had to smile. "I promise to explain everything later. Really." And then she had turned back to her counter, giving him an absentminded wave. Bemused, he left the lab rubbing his arm. He still hadn't gotten that explanation, Nick realized as he paused over a report he was painstakingly typing. Two weeks had passed and since then Natalie had been drilling holes in his arms practically every day. And she wouldn't tell him why. Being kept in the dark (figuratively) really annoyed him. Still, he knew that all of her efforts were for his own good, even if she did tend to take it to extremes occasionally. Whenever he doubted that he would ever find his way back to the light, Natalie's faith in her skills, and in him, kept him hopeful...mostly. Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. He decided to be patient. She would tell him what was going on soon enough. With an inward shrug he returned his attention to the report. * * * As always, Nick sensed her arrival before she stepped into the elevator. Hastily, he dumped the contents of his glass down the sink, vague feelings of guilt stirring within him. He turned, a smile curling at his lips. The smile vanished as she stepped out of the shadows. He could sense the turmoil of her emotions and, in a fraction of an instant, he was at her side, gently touching her arm. "Nat? What's wrong?" She smiled up at him, an incandescent, glorious smile. A tear glistened on the ends of her lashes. "Natalie?" The careful speech she had prepared vanished. Natalie swallowed once, deeply, then blurted out: "I've found the cure, Nick. I know how to bring you back across..." Her voice gave out and she stared silently at him, all her emotions naked on her face. Nick's hand tightened around her arm. It was painful, but she didn't care. An eternity seemed to pass. Finally, remembering himself, he released her and she fought the urge to rub her arm. There would be a bruise there tomorrow... Nick had turned away and was staring sightlessly out the window into the darkkness. Her euphoria slowly fading, Natalie took a pace nearer and laid a gentle, hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Nick? Did you hear what I said?" He turned back to her, all the futile hopes and broken promises of the last eight hundred years evident on his face. A wave of sympathy flowed over her. What did it take to kill hope? How much suffering...? Blinking hard against a sudden rush of tears, Natalie took both of his hands in hers. "Did you think I would say this if I weren't sure," she asked huskily. "Nick -- I've found the cure...you can be mortal again..." Nick clutched her hands tighter. His voice shook a little when he spoke. "Tell me." Natalie did. She told him about Romania, the book, and the scrap of paper. Nick started at the mention of a book, but remained silent. She told him of her first disastrous experiment and her more recent successes. And then she told him her conclusions. "Everything says this is it, Nick," she said. "All the results were positive..." She hesitated. Nick had finally regained some sort of control over himself. "Why do I sense a 'but' coming?" he asked. Natalie gave him a guarded look. She had managed to ignore the implications of her experiments in the initial wave of euphoria, but now... "There's one...tiny...difficulty." A cynical expression fleetingly crossed Nick's face. "There always is," he thought to himself. "Yes?" he said aloud. Natalie shifted uncomfortably. "Well...for it to be effective...it has to be taken...ah...internally." "You mean I have to drink it?" "Not quite." She was beginning to blush. "I'm not quite sure why, but the compound only seems to work when it's consumed from a...er...living host's bloodstream. It loses potency immediately upon removal. And I mean immmediately." Nick stared at her blankly. She sighed and continued. "In other words, the antidote has to be consumed by a living, breathing human being; allowed to mix with the host's bloodstream for a while; then removed...in the old- fashioned way." She looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. "You're saying that I would have to..." Natalie nodded and gave him an uneasy smile. "Yeah. It's a real pain in the neck, isn't it?" Nick did not respond. In one smooth motion, he got up and began to pace. Natalie admired his gracefulness, even while fighting her own embarrasment. Watching him, she was reminded of a caged lion and marvelled once again at their relationship. How had she ever become involved with this...creature of darkness, and where would their paths lead them? "I have been one acquainted with the night," she thought randomly. The coroner drew a deep breath. "Nick." Her voice was stronger now. "I volunteer to be the...er...host." He stopped and turned to face her, stark disbelief on his face. "What did you say?" "You heard." For a long moment he could not speak. When he did, his voice throbbed with anger. "Are you insane? Do you have any idea what sort of a risk you would be taking? Do you really think I could let you...?" "It's a risk I'm willing to take. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, Nick, and I'd be going into this with my eyes wide open." His eyebrows shot up and he said harshly: "You have absolutely no idea what you're saying. No. It's out of the question. We'll just have to find another way." Natalie could feel her own anger rising. How could he just dismiss this out of hand after all the soul-searching she had done? He wouldn't even give her...give them...a chance... Indignation propelled the coroner to her feet, her fists clenching and she had to fight the impulse to hit him -- not that he would even notice... "Damn it, Nick." Her voice was low but tight with coiled anger. "Don't you want to be human again?" He sent her an accusing glance. "How can you ask that? You know I do." "Then what's the problem?" "The problem is I'm not willing to risk your life." Natalie clenched her jaw. "But I am. And it's my life to risk. If I choose to do this, then it's my business." "And mine. Or have you forgotten just who would be sinking his fangs into your throat?" Sarcasm dripped from him. As Nick's anger increased, a sudden thought flashed through Natalie's mind. It was a pity she had not ingested the antidote before she had come here...the way this conversation was going, it would probably not be difficult to goad him into taking her blood...Not liking the direction her thoughts were taking, she focused again on the vampire. Nick could hear the pounding of her heart, the blood rushing through her veins, and he had to fight down a sudden wave of desire. It would be so easy to...Nick shook his head, quelling his thoughts. He could not allow himself to lose control like that, no matter how much he might dream of tasting her blood, her skin soft and warm beneath his lips... Enough. With an effort, Nick wrenched his mind back to the present. This argument was getting out of hand -- he could feel his fangs beginning to descend. No. Maybe it was time to think logically. With a deep breath, he said: "We shouldn't even be discussing this. You don't know what effects this antidote might have on the human body. It might be just as lethal as I am." Natalie felt an increased surge of anger at the implied slur on her professionalism but managed to keep her voice level with an effort. "As a matter of fact I do," she said stiffly. "Do what?" "Do know what effects it has. Did you really think I would come here without all the facts?" Raw irritation coloured her voice. "How do you know?" Surprise was etched on the vampire's face. "I tried it of course." His expression was almost comical. "After enough tests to be sure it was safe," she added. "You tried it." Nick muttered to himself in disbelief. "Yes. I tried it. It tastes like a cross between acid rain and sour milk, and the side effects are comparable to a few stiff shots of bourbon, but other than that it's completely harmless. And it wears off after a few hours. It's not pleasant, but _it_ won't kill me." Her unspoken words hovered between them. Nick sighed and turned away again. "It doesn't matter," he said heavily. "I won't do it. We're just going to have to keep looking..." Natalie interrupted. "What if there is no other solution, Nick? What if this is it?" Nick's temper began to fray yet further. With vampiric speed he crossed to her side and took her by the shoulders. "Do you know what you're saying?" he asked bluntly. "Do you seriously want to dose yourself with some Medieval poison and hope that I don't kill you?" "No," she replied softly. "But I don't want to go on the way we are either." She wasn't listening to him. Frustration mounted within him. Maybe he could shock her to her senses. He slid one hand up to her chin and easily tilted her head back and to the side, allowing his fangs to fully extend and his eyes to change. "You wouldn't be able to stop me, Natalie," he said ominously. "You would be completely helpless. Would you allow yourself to lose control completely, risk your life...for this?" Without warning, he captured both of her wrists behind her back with his other hand, pulling her close. Knowing he was skirting dangerously close to the line he had drawn for himself, he closed his eyes and dipped his head, allowing his fangs to graze against the pale skin of her neck. Her heart beat rapidly against his chest. Just below the surface of her skin, her blood called a siren song to him. And slowly, the vampire began to lose himself to its music. Natalie did not struggle. Her initial fear had been replaced by a sudden surge of desire. He ran his lips over her jugular and she had to fight for breath. As he slowly traced the curve of her throat with his mouth, she swallowed and fought aside the need threatening to engulf her. Dizzy and shaken, she managed to wet her dry lips. "I'm not afraid." Her words were no more than the thread of a whisper. "I trust you, Nick." Her eyes flickered shut. Natalie's words penetrated the fog that had begun to enfold the vampire's mind. Suddenly ashamed, he released her and stepped back. He pretended not to notice as she leaned back against the counter and rubbed her wrists, her heart fluttering wildly. With an effort, Natalie gathered her shredded dignity around her and fought for some semblance of composure. Pushing herself away from the counter, she took an unsteady step toward the vampire. "I'm going to go and let you think about this." She just managed to keep the tremors from her voice. "But remember this...it's not just your happiness and desires on the line here Nick. You're not alone in any of this." And then she walked unsteadily past him toward the elevator. Once there she paused, and spoke to the empty air before her: "You could have killed me just now. But you didn't. Doesn't that tell you something about yourself?" She turned to look over her shoulder at him. "I trust you, Nick. Even if you don't trust yourself." And then she was gone. Nick stared after her, feeling his fangs recede even as his emotions warred within him. What had he done? He closed his eyes in despair. What was he going to do? Only silence answered his unspoken question. END OF PART ONE Sharon Nuttycombe avalon@terranet.ab.ca celtic@freenet.edmonton.ab.ca "This must be a Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays." -- Arthur Dent, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The Way Back part 2/3 Sharon Nuttycombe avalon@terranet.ab.ca August 3, 1996 ************************************************************ This is a Nick and Natalie happy-ending/romance story that I wrote way back in Season 2 when Janette and Schanke were still around. Although I liked the ending of Last Knight, this is my take on a happier, gentler finish for the series. It is not quite NC -17, although part two is pretty warm. PS - I thought of this idea for a possible cure well before Season 3. Honest. I would appreciate any comments or criticism, about story, style, or anything else you care to mention. Thank you. Acknowledgements: Thanks to Linda Campbell for racking up really huge phone bills to help with my stories. Disclaimer: Nick, Nat, and the rest do not belong to me. I've only borrowed them. I promise to return them before they are overdue... ************************************************************ The Way Back part 2/3 Nick was avoiding her, Natalie realized. In the past week, he had barely spoken to her, and then only when it was absolutely necessary. Natalie sighed, staring blankly at her computer screen. There wasn't much else she could do until he came to a decision. Her mind still reeled at the thought of what had almost happened the other night. And how much part of her had wanted it to happen. The sheer physical longing she had felt, mingled with a healthy dose of pure, unadulterated fear, had astonished her. How could she have come so close to losing control like that? A blush crept over her face and, for the moment, she was grateful that the detective was avoiding her. She didn't know how to deal with what had happened -- with what might happen -- any more than he did. With another sigh, she refocussed her attention on her computer. * * * "Have you and Natalie had a fight, partner?" Schanke's voice intruded on Nick's thoughts and he returned to the present with a start. "Sorry, what? I was a million miles away." "That much is obvious. I asked if you and Nat had had a fight." Nick grimaced. "No. Not a fight. A... misunderstanding." Schanke smiled at his partner's evasiveness. "Well, send her some flowers and chocolate and make up quick. Because the way you've been moping around here lately, people are beginning to think you're either dying or in love." "That's not possible." Nick spoke more sharply than he intended. Schanke raised an eyebrow. "What? Dying, or falling in love?" "Both," muttered the vampire under his breath. He looked up at his partner. "Come on Schank -- we've got a corpse waiting." With that he stood and headed for the exit. Schanke stared worriedly after him for a moment, then followed him out the door. * * * After several more sleepless days and unbearable nights, Nick found himself outside the Raven. He had tried to stay away, but had somehow instead found himself steering the Cadillac toward it. And her. He paused outside, music from within wafting across the cold Toronto night. After a long moment, he hunched his shoulders and pushed open the door. The noise hit him like a brick wall. The place was full, as always. Nick's eyes travelled across the crowd, automatically picking her out. Reluctantly, he waded through the crowd to the bar. She was wearing blue tonight, an elegant long-sleeved dress that would not have been out of place a century ago. She did not turn as he approached her. The music swirled around them but they stood together in an oasis of silence. Finally, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "What is it, Nicholas?" Janette asked without preamble. "What has been bothering you?" A reluctant smile caught at his lips. She could always read him so easily... He shook his head, unwilling to burden her with his thoughts. But then she touched his cheek, a gossamer caress that burned through all his defences. "Tell me, cheri." Nick opened his mouth to tell her that nothing was the matter...and found himself telling her everything. Natalie's experiments and the results, what had almost happened, his sleepless nights... The animation slowly faded from Janette's face as he spoke, and she listened stiffly. A part of her had always feared this day, had known that his undying quest to become mortal would some day succeed. That accursed book... Fury flickered within her. She was not ready to let him go. Not yet. Not ever. "So why are you telling me this?" She said icily, downing her drink in one swallow. "You've already decided that you will not risk your precious Dr. Lambert's life, so what is the problem?" Her coldness surprised him, and he too stiffened. "The problem is that I know the cure exists and I can't put it out of my mind. Part of me wants to forget it, while the rest wants to take what is offered and to hell with anything else." "Including Natalie's life?" Janette decided to use every weapon available to her. Nick's eyes narrowed. She continued remorselessly. "Do you think that once you have tasted her blood, you would be willing or able to stop until she was completely drained?" "I don't know. Maybe." "And what about HIM? And the Enforcers? Have you thought about what they will do? Do you truly think they will ever let you go?" She played her final card. "And if by some miracle you did become mortal again, how would you defend yourself or the Doctor against them? Have you thought about any of that?" Nick's expression convinced her he had not. Janette suppressed an inward smile of satisfaction. That would end this ridiculous idea of his... But then her exultation faded as she watched despair slowly enfold him like a cloak. Nick had never once considered either Lacroix or the Enforcers. What was wrong with him? What had he been thinking? Of course they would never allow him to regain his mortality, even if such a thing were possible. He and Natalie would spend their lives on the run, always looking over their shoulders. Lives lived in fear... He could not subject her to that. He closed his eyes in resignation. It was all just a fantasy, an absurd dream he had dared to dream for far too long. It was time to wake up... Time to face the darkness... A light caress touched his lips. He opened his eyes. There were tears in Janette's eyes. She had watched the light fade from his face as if a candle had blown out, and knew she could not do this to him. If this was truly what he wanted... "I'll help you." Surprise lanced through Nick and he stared at her incredulously. "Why?" he asked bluntly. "Because, my love," she whispered in French, "in over 700 years, I have never been able to stand between you and your heart's desire." She swallowed deeply and watched the look of boyish optimism, that centuries of darkness had never quite managed to dim, return to his face. "He was never suited to this life," she thought randomly "He was never really one of us." Janette ignored the anguish lancing through her. How could she claim to love this man if she kept him from what he wanted most? She sighed, a long, world-weary sigh and smiled painfully. "I'll do what I can." She kept her voice even. Nick stammered a little, trying to hide his surprise. "But I'm not going to..." "You will," she interrupted. "And you will succeed." There was no doubt in her words. Nick didn't know what to say. His past, his life, his very being was tied up so closely with this woman's that any attempt to think of a world without her made his insides spin. But then his mind returned to Natalie, to her courage as she offered to risk his life for him...his feelings for her...and he came to a decision. He wanted the light. He needed the light. He had lived in darkness long enough. Tenderly he bent forward and brushed his lips against hers. "Merci, ma chere." Then he turned and left, and what light there was in Janette's life went with him. Blinking fiercely, she turned back to the bar. With a single motion she summoned another drink and downed it hastily. Taking another, she stared into its ruby depths and whispered softly: "Au revoir, Nicholas. Je t'aime." * * * Natalie stood outside the radio station, a cold wind whipping through her hair as she stared upward, trying to summon her courage. It had taken every bit of self-control she possessed to get this far but now, at the mouth of the lion's den (so to speak), her nerve had failed her. What had made her come here...? There were far easier ways of committing suicide... Dry-mouthed, she brushed her hair out of her eyes, wanting very much to go home and forget the whole thing. She knew quite well what had brought her here. She loved Nick. Body and soul. It had taken a long time, but she had finally admitted it, at least to herself. She would never love anyone the way she loved him, and she was willing to risk everything to prove it. So here she stood, ready to put her convictions to the test. Natalie squared her shoulders and took a deep, steadying breath. With a last glance over her shoulder at the safe, sane world, she pulled open the door and entered the building that housed the radio-station, CERK. * * * He was much as she had pictured him, Natalie decided. Tall, pale...and dangerous. The Nightcrawler. The name seemed to tear through her like a razor and she shifted uncomfortably. Finally he looked up and met her eyes through the glass. A tiny smile curled at his lips and Natalie suddenly wished herself somewhere else. Anywhere else. Her toes were beginning to curl by the time he flicked the open mike off and rose to his feet. Natalie quelled the impulse to bolt out the door... "Dr. Lambert, I presume?" His voice was low, seductive, and edged with a mocking tone. Natalie promptly lost her voice. She nodded silently. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He gestured her toward a chair. "Dare I hope that this is a purely...social call?" He took a step toward her and Natalie retreated - into the chair. It caught her in the back of the knees and she sank abruptly into it. Lacroix smiled slightly and pulled another chair forward, folding himself into it gracefully. Natalie took one more deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I came to talk about Nick." Her voice was remarkably clear and even, which surprised her. "Certainly. What about him?" "I want you to let him go." Lacroix raised his eyebrows, a faint glimmer of admiration going through him. "Why?" he asked simply. Now that she was firmly embarked on this course, Natalie found that her strength of mind had returned. If she tried very hard, she could forget that this urbane man sitting across from her was a very old, very powerful vampire. *Who was she trying to kid? It was like having a conversation with a cobra*. The cobra in the chair stirred impatiently and she hastily continued. "Because I love him. And I can make him mortal again." She braced herself. His voice was dry. "Can you really?" "Yes." She could feel her fortitude trickling out of her like water. "Hang on, Nat," she thought, "Do what you came to do." "I'm afraid I have no intention of ever letting him go, my dear Doctor," Lacroix was saying. "You can't stop us." "I most certainly can. As you are no doubt aware, or you would not be here." Natalie sat a little straighter. "We'll fight you." Lacroix almost laughed. "My dear Natalie -- I may call you Natalie, may I not? Nicholas has been fighting me for centuries, and he has not won yet." "We will this time." "Then what is to stop me from killing you and ending your gallant little crusade right now?" There was an edge to his voice. Natalie's pulse went skittering into high gear and she was acutely aware of the rapid pounding of her heart. Surely he could hear it... "Courage, Natalie," she thought grimly. "If you kill me," she said calmly enough, "you _will_ lose him." "I have been killing mortals Nicholas cared about since the Middle Ages. I have not lost him yet. What makes you so different?" He appeared to be genuinely curious. Natalie raised her chin a little and said firmly. "I love him. Enough to come here and ask you to let him go." She paused. "Haven't you ever cared for someone so deeply that you would take any risk, make any sacrifice for them? Haven't you ever once felt that way?" Her voice caught and she stopped, unable to go any further. Lacroix frowned. Her words had called forth a memory of another place, another time. Of another woman who had wanted something so badly she would have sold her soul for it. And for him. A thousand years of loneliness and regret suddenly washed over him and he clenched his fists. The coroner was staring at him silently. "You have," she whispered, almost to herself. "You do know what it's like." Lacroix shook off the memories threatening to overwhelm him, and rose menacingly over her. "I think you should go now, Dr. Lambert. While you still can." "Please...Let him go." Anger bubbled suddenly within him and he spoke harshly. "Leave now, I said." His voice had the whiplash of command in it and unhesitatingly she rose, her mind shuddering against his power. As her feet steered her to the door Natalie managed to pause a little and speak. "Please. If not for us...do it for her." With that she was gone. Lacroix watched the coroner leave, wondering at himself for letting her do so. He should have killed her, should have taken the memory of this meeting and the so-called cure from her mind...but he had not. He had hesitated. Why? A name rose to the surface of his mind, and pain coiled familiarly around his heart. "Fleur..." * * * Natalie sagged bonelessly into the car, her body quivering and her senses shuddering. She had done it. She had entered the lion's den and emerged unscathed. Well, almost. She felt as if she had just run a triathlon and her heart still pounded uncomfortably fast. She let out a long shuddering sigh of relief. "Just because you're still alive doesn't mean you've won," she reminded herself as she started the car with fingers that shook. She still had no idea what he would do, what would happen to them...but at least he had listened to her...At least she had accomplished that much. Now she only had to convince Nick. And that might be the hardest part yet... Natalie carefully put the car into gear, a blinding headache pulsing at her temples. She felt exhausted. And depressed. Change was coming, one way or the other, and it frightened her. For the hundredth time she was tempted to forget everything, to turn away from this path she had found herself on. But no. She had to go on. She had come too far to turn back now. Stiffening her spine, she steered the car towards home. * * * Nick was playing the Moonlight Sonata, finding some small comfort in the familiar music, when the elevator arrived. He turned to face it...and caught his breath. Natalie stood framed in the doorway like a Rembramdt brought to life. The dim lights of the loft caught at her hair, illuminating the gold in it, and curling over the curves of her body...curves highlighted by the dress she wore. It fit snugly over her upper body, baring her throat and shoulders, then flared over her hips into a glorious full skirt the colour of emeralds. A subtle wreath of perfume snaked towards him, wreaking havoc upon his heightened senses. The detective's jaw had dropped open, he realized belatedly, and he closed it with a snap, swallowing deeply. "Natalie...?" "Hello, Nick." Her voice was a throaty purr and she moved unhurriedly toward him, satin rustling around her legs. "Nat..." He tried again. Her smile deepened. "In the flesh...and blood." She reached his side and lightly ran a hand over his chest. Nick decided to forego breathing altogether. "You're probably wondering what I'm doing here," she was saying. Understatement of the century, he decided. "Well..." She silenced him, running one finger delicately over his lips. "I've come to bring you a present," she whispered into his ear, leaning her body close to his. Nick stepped back and took her by the shoulders. "Nat? What's going on?" She took another step forward. "I'm bringing sunshine, and Hershey Bars, and pizza... I've come to bring you back across. Nick froze. She hadn't... "What have you done?" The question was sharp and his fingers tightened about her. She met his gaze unflinchingly. "I took the antidote. Even as we speak it's running through my veins. And now I'm pleasantly drunk, and I want you to make love to me." She leaned closer. "Make love to me, Nick, and I'll bring you back across. Please." She took a final pace forward and leaned against him, her arms encircling him. Nick swallowed again. Her heartbeat sounded like thunder in his ears and reflexively his fangs began to descend. Desperately he struggled to maintain control. "Natalie," he whispered roughly, "don't do this. I could kill you." "I don't care." Her whisper was soft as she reached up and pulled him down to her. Closing her eyes, she kissed him deeply, feeling his fangs scrape against her bottom lip, drawing blood. The taste of blood on his mouth shredded whatever remained of his self-control. He deepened the kiss, tilting her head back. His tongue met hers and then he was lost... Natalie arched her body against his. Passion sparked within her and she whimpered softly in the back of her throat. Nick heard the whimper, and somehow managed to master the fiery desire coursing through him. This was Natalie. Nat. He couldn't do this. Couldn't... He managed to pull back slightly, staring down at her through glowing eyes. Natalie felt him withdraw, and could have cried. *No. Don't do this Nick* Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed without fear into the face of the vampire. "Please, Nick," she managed to whisper weakly. "Please. I love you..." A single tear splashed down her cheek. It was the tear that did it. It broke the last of his control and left him at the mercy of his own dark nature. Natalie was crying for him. His Natalie... With a low cry he surrendered to the darkness, sweeping her back into his arms and possessing her mouth with his own. Slowly, sensuously, he ran his tongue over her cut lip, savouring the taste of her blood. Then his lips were caressing her neck, his hands roaming over her hips and trailing lightly down her spine. Natalie shuddered and drew in her breath. And, with one sudden thrust, Nick sank his fangs into her throat. Natalie stiffened and gasped. It was a gasp of searing pleasure, mingled with pain. Nothing she had ever experienced, ever imagined, could have prepared her for this. It was starlight and thunderstorms, and a thousand other things besides. And then he drove himself even deeper into her and all thought fled. Only sensation and need remained. Time seemed to stand still. An eternity might have passed, or perhaps only a few seconds, but a sense of lassitude began to drift over the coroner. Her vision dimmed. Lost in the wealth of feeling and emotions he was wreaking on her, Natalie did not care. She knew only that she did not want this to end...ever. The blood-haze obscuring his sight slowly lifted as Nick realized that Natalie's grip on him had loosened. Her breathing began to shallow as her heart laboured to pump her diminished blood through her body. For an eternal moment he did not care. He wanted nothing more that to take her completely, to feel her lifeforce draining into him...but this was Natalie...he was killing Natalie... Somehow the vampire managed to pull himself away. He raised his head, blood dripping from his fangs, and she went limp in his arms, her head lolling back helplessly. Blood seeped from the wounds in her neck, and her skin was the colour of chalk. Fear flooded through him, effectively banishing the desire. Natalie. No. What had he done? Hastily Nick lifted her in his arms and carried her to the sofa. She seemed to weigh so little, her heart fluttering beneath her breast like a bird's. Gently he laid her down, horror and guilt tearing through him. And then it hit him. Pain. Agony, worse than anything he had ever known or imagined. Pain that slashed through his being, leaving him helpless in its wake. Moaning, the vampire doubled over and collapsed in a heap by the sofa, racked by waves of torment. Was this the cure? Or was it death...? END OF PART TWO Sharon Nuttycombe avalon@terranet.ab.ca celtic@freenet.edmonton.ab.ca "This must be a Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays." -- Arthur Dent, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The Way Back part 3/3 Sharon Nuttycombe avalon@terranet.ab.ca August 8, 1996 ********************************************************** This is a Nick and Natalie happy-ending/romance story that I wrote way back in Season 2 when Janette and Schanke were still around. Although I liked the ending of Last Knight, this is my take on a happier, gentler finish for the series. PS - I thought of this idea for a cure well before Season 3. Honest. Also - please forgive a little stark sentimentality in this part (aka - poetry)...I guess I've listened to one to many Lacroix monologues... I would appreciate any comments or criticism, about story, style, or anything else you care to mention. Thank you. Acknowledgements: Thanks to Linda Campbell for racking up really huge phone bills to help me with my stories. The poems are by Shakespeare (Sonnet XXIV and MacBeth) and Algernon Charles Swinburne (Spring Begins). Disclaimer: Nick, Nat, and the rest do not belong to me. I've only borrowed them. I promise to return them before they are overdue... ************************************************************ The Way Back part 3/3 Natalie stirred and moaned. Consciousness returned slowly, reluctantly, and with it, memory. Nick. It took nearly all her strength just to open her eyes - her eyelids seemed to have become incredibly heavy, and grey fog swirled across her vision. What she could see of the world seemed to be spinning in two directions at once. She moaned again, weakly. Slowly Natalie fought her way back toward the light. This time, when she opened her eyes, the world gave a couple more lurching spins, then settled down into a faint rocking motion. Nausea and dizziness warred within her. "Great," she thought incoherently, "now I'm seasick." Ignoring her queasiness, she turned her head. Even that slight motion caused her heart to flutter and beat faster. Deep within her, a fully coherent doctor added up her symptoms and diagnosed shock and extreme loss of blood. "I'm going to die," she thought randomly. That thought sent a burst of adrenaline flooding through her and, for a moment, her vision cleared. Nick? She could just see him, lying still on the floor next to her. Grimly hanging on to consciousness, Natalie managed to reach one hand out toward him. An icy coldness was beginning to sink into her body and she shivered weakly. "Nick?" Her voice was no more than a thready whisper. "Nick. Please come back. I need you." * * * A faint whisper pierced the darkness. After a lifetime, the pain began to recede and Nick slowly clawed his way back to the waking world. There was something he had to do... With a start he awoke completely. And remembered. Natalie. Where...? He looked up. He could just see her, one pale arm dangling over the edge of the sofa. Shock rippled through him when he realized he could no longer hear her heartbeat. Dead? No! With an enormous effort he dragged himself to his knees, holding onto the edge of the sofa for balance. With fingers that refused to obey his commands, he fumbled for her pulse, fearing what he would find. But no...there it was. Faint but definite. She was alive. The wave of relief that swept over him nearly caused him to pass out again. Clinging tenaciously to consciousness, Nick dragged himself to his feet. Warmth and fluids. She needed warmth and fluids. He pulled the afghan she had made him last Christmas from the back of the sofa and wrapped it gently around her. Then, stumbling slightly, he made his way to the kitchen. He spilled more than half the water, but managed to make it back safely. Natalie stirred briefly when he held the glass to her lips and she swallowed reflexively then coughed. Her eyes flickered open and a worried-looking Nick slowly swam into view. He was alive. Relief rippled through her. "Natalie." His voice was ragged. Natalie stared up at him in wonder, fighting to keep him in focus. Twin lines of moisture were trickling down his cheeks. Tears. Human tears, not the bloody tears of a vampire. Weakly she raised her hand and touched them, pulling her fingers away wet. His eyes left hers to follow her gaze. "It worked," she murmured incredulously. "It really worked..." Comprehension slowly dawned on the detective. He was human again...the vampire was gone. Disbelief poured through him and shock robbed his tongue of any words. He could only stare silently down at her, clutching her hand. Then finally, he brought her fingers to his mouth and tenderly kissed the back of her hand. "Thank you," he managed to whisper. "Thank you, Natalie." * * * Nick did not sense his presence at all. It was the cold draught blowing across the back of his neck that made him turn. He glanced over his shoulder...and froze. Lacroix. The detective's breath caught in his throat. For a long moment, neither moved or spoke. Finally the vampire stepped forward out of the shadows. A single glance at the wound's on Natalie's neck and the new colour in Nick's face told him everything. They had achieved the impossible. Nicholas was mortal again. He had lost him. Despite the shock, Lacroix kept his voice even. "It seems you have been busy," he said. "Poor Dr. Lambert seems to be all tapped out." Natalie frowned and tried to lever herself into a sitting position while Nick moved protectively in front of her. "Leave us alone. You and I are finished." "You're wrong. We'll never be finished... Never. What she gave, I can take away." He moved forward. Fighting the fear that was rising within him, Nick squared his shoulders and smiled, knowing it would annoy Lacroix. "I will never come back," he said. "You'll have to kill me first." Lacroix sighed melodramatically. "Very well. If you insist. I really am disappointed in you, Nicholas. Still, once your precious Doctor is out of the way, perhaps you'll come around." In an eyeblink he was at Natalie's side, dragging her to her feet. Natalie cried out in pain as he tilted her head back, his eyes glowing gold in the dim lighting. "No!" Nick sprang forward, hopelessly, trying to wrest the vampire away from her. Almost absently, Lacroix swung one arm at him, sending the detective crashing against the wall where he slumped to the floor. Once more, he turned to Natalie who struggled weakly. "Let her go, Lucien." Lacroix started and looked up. Janette stood at the window, the cold wind blowing through her hair. For a long moment he hesitated, then he released his grip. Natalie crumpled to the floor. "What are you doing here?" "What do you think?" Janette moved forward, flanked by the two vampires. "It's time, Lacroix. Time to let him go." Lacroix's eyes narrowed. "Don't interfere, Janette. This is between Nicholas and myself." "What do you intend to do?" "I will bring him back across, and end this foolishness." "No." Janette paused sadly. "They won't let you." "They?" "The Enforcers." "You involved them? Why?" In the corner, Nick shook his head and slowly climbed to his feet, ignored by everyone else. Janette half turned away. "Because I couldn't fight you on my own. And I promised I'd help him." "Then you too have betrayed me." "Yes," she whispered, not meeting his gaze. She could almost feel the whiplash of his surprise and anger. She straightened her shoulders. "You'll forgive me...eventually," she said. "You know I'm right. It's time to end this. Time..." Her voice broke and she paused, then continued. "They've agreed to let him leave us if all memory of what we are is taken from them both. Lucien...please..." She could feel him wavering. He glanced back at the semi-conscious Natalie, and at Nick, wavering in the corner. "I could kill them both right now. You couldn't prevent me." Nick stepped forward, breaking into the conversation. Eight hundred years of servitude and darkness were about to end, one way or another... "It's over, Lacroix. Let it end now." Lacroix turned and gazed for a long moment into the face of the man with whom he had shared a lifetime. His son, his brother, his companion of the night... And once again an image rose before his eyes. Fleur. He had let her go once. Could he not do as much for her brother? For an instant he looked at Natalie, who tried to meet his gaze unflinchingly, then back at Nick. Abruptly he spun around. "Do as you please," he snarled. "I wash my hands of all of you." And then he was gone, vanishing out the window into the darkness. * * * Nick heaved a long sigh of relief, then turned to Janette. He opened his mouth to speak but she forestalled him. "Do not say anything, cheri. Don't make this any harder than it needs to be." And in an instant she was at his side, her gaze boring into his. "Forget, my love. You must forget..." Nick found he could not resist her, could not fight the commands burrowing into his mind. He gazed into her eyes, trapped, until she had finished, then sagged bonelessly to the floor. Natalie watched, unspeaking, from where she had levered herself up to lean against the sofa. She watched as Janette bent and touched her lips to Nick's, then flinched back as the woman straightened and turned to her. "I should hate you for this." The vampire's tone was almost conversational. Natalie swallowed and said nothing. Janette did not move. The frozen impasse ended when Janette strode forward...and walked past Natalie to the window. The coroner braced herself as the vampire moved, then watched incredulously as Janette prepared to leave. Berating herself for even asking, she said: "What about me?" Janette did not turn. "He will not know how to be human," she replied to the empty night. "You must remember for him." Then, faster than the eye could follow, she was gone. Natalie stared dazedly after her, the wind of her passage still brushing through her hair. It was over. She had won. So why did she feel so unhappy? "Because I've just torn a family apart," she answered herself. "I never thought about what this would do to them." Confused and still terribly weak, Natalie slowly dragged herself over to Nick, curling her cold body around his newly warm one. A lone tear trickled down her face as she waited patiently for her knight to wake up. Within moments she had lapsed back into unconsciousness. Half an hour later, the sun rose, to find them both still huddled together on the floor. * * * ONE WEEK LATER Natalie had recovered completely from her blood loss, which she had explained away as the Asian flu. Her emotions were in a much more fragile state, though. It had hurt to see Nick so confused and disoriented after awakening, with no memory of what he had been. And when he had began to draw away from her in the days that followed, it had hurt even more. Natalie tried to tell herself that he just needed time; that he needed to accustom himself to being mortal again, even if he wasn't aware of the fact, but it didn't help. Nothing helped. This wasn't the way she had planned it. The coroner sighed and pushed open the door to her lab. Brooding about it wouldn't help. Maybe nothing would... Gloomily she entered the room...and stopped. A single blood-red rose stood in a crystal vase in the centre of her desk. A gilt-edged envelope was propped beside it. Her heart caught in her throat. Nick? With fingers that shook slightly, she opened the envelope and withdrew a sheet of thick paper. Biting her lip, she began to read. When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state (Like to the lark at break of day arising from sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings. He had added "or vampires" at the bottom in large cursive letters. Natalie looked up. Nick was there, a familiar smile on his face. The grey unhappiness of the last week as he had tried to find his way in an unfamiliar world had vanished. "You remembered." It wasn't a question. "It came back slowly. I guess post-hypnotic suggestions don't work very well on ex-vampires." Natalie felt a huge smile beginning to cross her face. "How did you know I still knew?" "You're a very poor liar, Nat." He stepped closer. "I haven't thanked you properly for what you did." Natalie glanced toward the rose. He followed her gaze, then reached out to lightly tilt her chin upward. Her heart began to beat faster. Slowly, he bent and touched a kiss of infinite gentleness to her lips. Unbidden, a tear sprang to her lashes. Gently Nick pulled her closer. "You brought me back. You've given me more than I ever thought possible. There aren't words enough to thank you." "Nick, I..." "Shhh. He ran his fingers across her lips, then murmured: "I love you. I'll always love you. Now...and forever." And then his lips claimed hers. Natalie swayed slightly then her arms crept up to encircle his neck and she returned the kiss whole-heartedly. And for the first time in a long time, the darkness receded from her life. * * * When Nick left the Coroner's Office, Natalie was humming "All I Ask of You" and looking seriously mussed. He smiled. She had so much warmth...so much life. He cast a silent thank you toward whatever whim of fate had sent him into her life after 800 years of wandering. Somehow she had had the strength to love him...and to bring him back into the light. When he had first awakened, stiff and in pain, with Natalie unconscious beside him, a thousand fragments of memory had assailed him...then vanished. The sense of loneliness and loss that had remained had sliced through him, leaving his mind and soul in fragments. And he didn't know why. Somehow, instinctively, he had known how to help Natalie; had kept her warm and full of fluids. And she had recovered. But from what? He didn't know. And she wouldn't tell him. His emotions in a maelstrom, and feeling abandoned and betrayed, he had been distant and curt to Natalie all week. He knew he was hurting her, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. And then, this morning, in first a trickle and then a torrent, his memories had come flooding back. The aching sense of loss, of being incomplete, had faded to a manageable level. They had been wrong to take his past away. A man was the sum of his memories, a vampire more so. He might be mortal again, but he needed to remember the dark times...if only to learn from his mistakes. There were so many happy memories that he had lost, too. It hadn't been all bad. His elation quickly fading, Nick looked in the rear view mirror. There was a distant glimmer of light in the East. False dawn. True daybreak would not be far away. The familiar urge to head for cover tugged at him, but he ignored it. Perhaps eventually, if he lived long enough, he would become accustomed to the sunlight. Perhaps... Nick sighed. He couldn't ignore it anymore. From the moment his memories had returned, he had known that he couldn't put this off forever. Now was as good a time as any. Reluctantly he pulled the Cadillac into a turn and headed back the way he had come. He had some unfinished business to settle. * * * Lacroix looked faded and tired in the studio lights, as if time had finally caught him up. Nick swallowed and forgot what he had intended to say. "It wasn't all bad," he thought again. "We had good times too..." Emotion clutched at his throat. Lacroix had sensed the detective when he entered -- as a mortal. He could hear the distant beating of a human heart, and sensed the warmth of a mortal body. "Ah Nicholas," he thought silently, "what a waste." "What do you want?" he said aloud. Nick hesitated. "To talk to you. To ask you...why?" Lacroix debated not answering him, but a deep lassitude seemed to have settled over the vampire. What did it matter anyway? Bitterness, betrayal, sorrow, loss...there were too many emotions tearing through his thousand year old frame. He was tired. So very tired... In the end, he answered the detective simply. "Your Natalie came to see me." Surprise caught at Nick. And admiration. She had obviously gone to far greater lengths to bring him back across than he had known. Once more he had underestimated her. "What did she say?" he asked quietly. "She reminded me of something I had forgotten." "What?" "Never mind." Lacroix turned away. "It's not important. Go back to your world of sunlight with her and forget everything. You're free. That's what you always wanted, wasn't it?" "I..." Nick stopped. What was there to say? He had achieved his dream, at the expense of everything and everyone else. The force of what he had done abruptly struck him. He was leaving behind the only family he had known in nearly a millennium. His family... How could he leave them...? Nick straightened. He had made his choice, had crossed irrevocably over that line with his first taste of Natalie's blood. He was mortal again. He had what he wanted. Leave it at that. It was time to say goodbye to the darkness. "I will never forget," he said gently. "Not a single moment. Never." Lacroix stared at him impassively. Nick paused, then turned and walked to the door. He stopped. There was just one more thing... "Goodbye...Father." He did not look back as he crossed the threshold. * * * The sun was coming up. Nick watched the sky grow lighter as he drove home, but felt little of the awe or joy he had expected. His thoughts were too full of what he had traded for the sun. Maybe tomorrow he would be overjoyed, but now...it was not an easy thing, losing a family. As the horizon brightened further, Nick glanced at the dashboard radio. He shouldn't...but he couldn't seem to help himself. Reluctantly he reached out and flicked the radio on. The familiar voice filled the air. A pang went through Nick as he listened. "And now, gentle listeners, as the sun comes up and night's curtain falls on this last act, I give you the Immortal Bard. He knew something about immortality, did Will. He said everything there ever was to say... Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more; it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. "This is the Nightcrawler...Farewell." For a moment eight centuries of memories threatened to overwhelm Nick as he drove unseeingly through the city. Then, resolutely, he switched off the radio for the last time, and silence descended. Behind him, in a golden fanfare of light, the sun rose over the city streets. FIN "For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins." ---Algernon Charles Swinburne *Poetry by Shakespeare and Algernon Charles Swinburne. Sharon Nuttycombe avalon@terranet.ab.ca celtic@freenet.edmonton.ab.ca "I've decided to transcend as many stereotypes as possible this week." -- Timothy Hunter, The Books of Magic