Date: Wed, 5 Aug 1998 02:12:34 -0700 Reply-To: cfarrell@SYMPATICO.CA Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: "C. Farrell" Subject: Trek of the Human Heart 1/5 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Status: Trek of the Human Heart 1/5 by LeeF Summary: Years after she left Nick, chance brings Natalie Lambert to Montreal's trendiest nightclub and vampire hangout on a quest for him. Prequel to Love in Vain. Characters and situations upon which this story is based belong to James Parriot, Sony Tristar et al, except for Brandon, Ellen and Nicky Price. Permission to archive at Fkfic-l and the FTP websites. Others, please e-mail for permission. ********************************** Pretty maids all in a row. That's just how the four envelopes were lined up on the polished pine coffee table in front of her. She couldn't remember what the rest of the rhyme was. It didn't matter anyway. She lifted the wine glass, watching how the flames from the stone fireplace set its liquid heart aglow. Sipping, she turned her attention back to the letters. Each ivory vellum envelope was scribed in her own neat handwriting to the people she cared for the most. They thought they knew her. But they only knew portions. Different lives she lived. Her husband thought he knew why she resigned a good city job and fled hundreds of miles north. He still told her how grateful he was for the other man's foolishness in letting her go all those years ago. He knew her true name. But he didn't know the whole truth. He'd never believe it. And if he suspected she spent the early years of their marriage pretending his arms and lips were those of someone else, he never reproached her. Except once. Her little tin footlocker still bore the dent it received (the scratches that came later resulted from her daughter's snooping). It happened after their second child's baptism. They were living in Kapuskasing then, not North Bay. He had been brooding all day. She avoided him, busying herself with her daughter and the new baby. But now the children were in bed and there was no escaping whatever was bothering him. She was trying unsuccessfully to watch television when he finally confronted her. His breath reeked of Gibson's Finest and he was holding her old tin "memory box" like a weapon. He was crying. You named our son after him, didn't you, he shouted at her. Did you think I'd forget his name? Oh, I know you've been faithful to me, at least physically, he snapped when she tried to speak. Well, let me tell you something, I beat you to the punch. Our daughter is named after an old girlfriend. The words sliced into her, hurting more than she thought they could. Upstairs, the two children wailed. I gave you your son, she replied coldly, determined not to weep herself. I nearly died doing that. Now get out of my way so I can take care of our children. His face crumpled and he whirled, throwing the little trunk towards the wall. She winced then went upstairs to comfort the children. When she came back down an hour later, he was sitting on the chesterfield with his head in his hands. I'm sorry, he told her. I just love you so much. Please say you won't take the kids and leave me. I'm sorry too, she said. We're all staying right here. We won't leave you. The subject of the children's names never came up again. But it always lay, like a bridgeless river between them, she reflected and lifted her wineglass towards the envelopes, toasting them. The dearest people in the world. Brandon. Ellen. Nicholas. And on the last envelope, Nick Knight. The woman once known as Natalie Lambert got up to stir the fire with the nearby poker. Then she sank down into the softness of the chesterfield to remember the last few weeks. ***************** She seldom went into the inner sanctum. Except on laundry day. Then Natalie (now known as Doctor Lamb to her patients, Sydney to her husband and friends, and Mom to her kids) would enter her son Nicky's room and dump an armload of neatly folded clothes on his bed. Was there a specific gene that caused men to be so messy, she thought, eyeing the sock hanging on the lampshade and the scatter of worn clothing, computer disks and other paraphernalia around the room. Her fingers itched to clean up but that was Nicky's responsibility. Natalie tried to ignore the holographic rock posters on the walls, they always made her eyes cross if she looked at them too long. She was just about to pick up the wicker clothes basket when the bulletin board over the computer desk caught her eye. Bypassing the bikini girl calendar with Nicky's block-printed reminders under the dates (History exam today! Volleyball practice! Movie with K & M!), she hesitated over the McGill University banner before stopping at the photo. It was pinned to the corkboard with a red push pin. She fell into the chair, nearly missing the seat. My God, my God, Natalie whispered. It took a minute or two before her hands stopped shaking enough to take down the picture. A month ago, Nicky spent the Victoria Day long weekend with his cousin Jordan in Montreal. He returned, bubbly with plans to attend McGill University in the fall and wearing a black t-shirt that now rested on the top of the laundry Natalie left on his bed. Across the chest, emblazoned in a jagged silver typeface was one word: Shadows. She swiveled around to look at it, then returned to the photo in her hand. In the picture, a goofily grinning Nicky and Jordan posed alongside a woman who smiled coolly at the camera. Her dark hair was perfectly coifed, her face perfectly made up and her figure perfectly fit the scarlet sheath dress she wore. In one hand she held a wineglass half full of a liquid that Natalie knew wasn't wine. She stared at the icy, immortal features of Janette Ducharme. "Mom! What are you doing?" Natalie wondered how long she had been sitting there before Nicky entered the bedroom. He didn't sound annoyed, just curious. She swiveled around in the chair to face him. "I don't remember you showing me this picture," she said, forcing a smile onto her stiff lips. "Oh that." Her son shuffled his feet, embarrassed. Nicky had Brandon's auburn hair and height but her heart-shaped face and eyes. Ellen had Natalie's eyes plus her mouth and thick hair. She even wore it like Natalie used to, hanging loose or in a tail. At least she did the last time Natalie saw her in Ottawa. All in all, both kids looked more like her than their father. "Nicky, I hope this isn't the reason you want to attend McGill", Natalie said lightly. Because you're definitely not going now. "She's the owner of the nightclub Jordan took me to, Mom. Shadows. I don't know why she posed for the picture; Jordan says he's never seen her do that before. Said I was lucky. But maybe nobody's ever asked before. Mom, she's beautiful but I know she's too old for me so you don't have to worry." Too old for you, oh boy, Natalie thought. She wondered briefly if she should inspect her son's neck then dismissed the idea as paranoid. "She, ah, wasn't interested in you, was she?" "Mom!" Nicky protested. He hated it when his mother hinted even obliquely about sex. You don't talk about that with your mother, for God's sake. "She was just nice and polite to us, is all. After all, she can't be rude to her customers, can she? She probably has to make up for the other guy." "What other guy?" Natalie asked sharply. Her heart pounded hard. No, she wouldn't think his name. "The other owner. Flits around like a bat or something, watching everyone and making sarcastic comments. Weird guy. Kind of scary too." That's got to be Lacroix, Natalie thought. And where Janette and Lacroix were, would Nick Knight be around? There, she said his name. Nick, Nick, Nick. "What, Mom?" Her son was giving her a puzzled look. Natalie didn't realize she spoke aloud. "Nothing, just put your clothes away and clean up this room. Really, Nicky," she said mildly, flicking the sock off the lampshade, "I don't want to see this the next time I come in here." Natalie took a last look at the photo before pinning it back up on the bulletin board. Inside the bedroom she shared with her husband, Natalie collapsed across the bed. She thought of the gold locket in her jewel box, the one that Nick slipped into her purse as she slept all those years ago, and went to get it. The necklace was old and beautiful, with an engraving of two roses on the lid. Just the thing she'd expect Nick to buy for a lady-love. She opened the locket. Inside was a picture of Ellen and Nicky as children. She carefully pried it out. She had almost forgotten there was another photo beneath. Tears filled her eyes as she gazed at her youthful self and Nick, who would never grow old. You would've left me sooner or later, she told his smiling, handsome face. I should've left a note for you but would you have left one for me? You didn't the last time you nearly left, I had to find out from someone else. I couldn't find a cure for vampirism, I tried but I couldn't. I'm sorry. And you wouldn't bring me across. I wouldn't have had any other maker but you, anyway. We were star-crossed lovers, Nick. We said whatever happened, we'd be together. Forever. But forever wasn't long enough. Natalie turned her head into the pillow to smother her sobs in case her son heard her. Leave it alone, she told herself. You've managed for years. Forget you ever saw that picture in Nicky's room. But it was too late now. The hand was dealt. Janette and Lacroix would know what happened to Nick. She had to go to Montreal. "Sydney, this is so sudden. Who is this woman again?" Brandon asked as he put Natalie's suitcase in the back seat of their sleek black Oldsmobile. "Doctor Rosemary Ho. We met in one of those internet chatrooms for medical professionals. I'm sure I've mentioned her to you. It's all arranged now, Brandon; I can't disappoint her; she's expecting me. I e-mailed her last night and I've already purchased the bus and train tickets over the internet. There's no refund for them. Brandon," she said, kissing him, "it's only for a few days." "And what about your patients?" he asked, somewhat annoyed. "I've a light schedule and Doctor Madsen has agreed to step in for me. He owes me from his last vacation anyway. Brandon, don't look so worried. I'll spend the night with Ellen at her apartment and take the train to Montreal tomorrow." Natalie tried to smooth away the frown lines in his forehead. "I don't know, Sydney," he said, pushing away her hand, "I just get this strange feeling." "Like what?" she asked, feeling slightly nervous now. Surely, after all these years, he wouldn't suspect she was on a quest to find her old love. "Like I might never see you again." "Oh Brandon! Don't be silly. Of course you will," she said brightly and kissed him again then got into the car. Nicky was already at the wheel, drumming his fingers. After dropping his mom off at the bus terminal, he still had to get to class. He pulled out of the driveway with a squeal of tires, making his mother wince and his father yell. "Nicky," Natalie began carefully, "are you still planning on attending McGill in September? Because I thought we had it all settled; you'd go to University of Ottawa or Carleton, and stay with your sister, at least for the first year." "No, you and Dad decided," Nicky retorted. "I haven't. And Jordan said I could stay with him and his buds, he says one of the guys is moving out to live with his girlfriend. I don't want to live with Ellen; talk about a major drag. She'll cramp my style and I'll cramp hers." "If you live with Jordan and his "buds", I know it will be party central," Natalie said. "If you still plan on a science major and then moving on to pre-med studies and medical school, you can't let your marks drop. You're brilliant, Nicky, I know you'll go far. Your dad and I are extremely flattered that you want to follow in our footsteps but you can't fool around. You have to be serious about what you want. Now has McGill sent you an acceptance yet?" "No," the boy replied sullenly. "The universities won't be sending them out for another week or so." "I just want you to think carefully about your choices, Nicky." Natalie said as they pulled into the bus station. He hastily promised and went to get the suitcase out for her. Natalie gave him a big hug, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and watched as the Olds drove away before stepping on board the bus. She adjusted the seat and closed her eyes for the trip to Ottawa. It has begun, she thought. ************************* Ellen pouted a bit when she discovered Natalie was leaving the next day. "Mom, I had all these things planned: shopping at the Rideau Centre and a visit to National Art Gallery and lots of other things. You certainly need to go shopping," she said, eyeing Natalie's plain white silk blouse and jeans critically. "And I'd love to take you out for a facial and manicure. Oh, Mom, you still look great," she assured her mother as Natalie stopped to gaze worriedly in the hallway mirror, "I would just like to treat you. Are you still using that Estee Lauder moisturizer I sent you?" "Every day," Natalie said. "I bought another jar for you. It really has made those lines around your eyes disappear. Now what will we do for dinner tonight?" Natalie opted for pizza and a video, ignoring the disappointed look on Ellen's face. Long after her daughter went to bed, Natalie still tossed and turned. It wasn't that the futon in the den was uncomfortable, it was just that too many memories were spinning around in her head. Her brother Richard and her parents, now long dead. Grace. Life before Nick woke up on her steel table in the morgue. Life after Nick. Laura's suicide and that fateful night in Nick's loft. And the days and nights that followed, when she made her decision to leave and not tell him. I should've told you, Nick, she thought. But where would I be now? Ellen was still pouting when she left her mother at the train station. Natalie resolved to stay a little longer next time. She slept all the way to Montreal, ordered in an early meal at the hotel then made herself settle down and try to read a book on new surgical procedures she'd brought. She'd already looked up Shadows in the phone book and ascertained they didn't open until 9 p.m. Night-time is vampire time, Natalie remarked to herself. Oh to hell with this! She threw the book on the bed and decided to go out shopping. A few hours later, freshly coifed and made up, Natalie walked into Shadows. The door man, a burly bald man in a black Shadows t-shirt, gave her a strange look, obviously wondering what a woman of her years was doing at a night club like this one. "We don't want any trouble here, ma'am," he said worriedly. "We don't cater to minors here; we check everyone's ID at the door." "I'm sure you do," Natalie replied smoothly, despite her heart thumping so hard she swore she could hear it over the hammering strains of the techno-rock. "I'm just here to talk to the owners on a personal matter. I'm sure M. Lacroix won=92t like it if he hears I've been detained by you." Lacroix was the magic password. The doorman gulped and waved her in. Intent on the bar, she wove her way past groups and couples, ignoring the flashing laser lights and receiving few glances from the patrons. The bartender was a slender man with an improbable shock of purple hair and a silver hoop through his nose. He too wore the ubiquitous t-shirt, albeit a shade that matched his hair. "Madam, if you're looking for your son or daughter - " "Spare me the speech, I already got it at the door," Natalie said, "I'm looking for Janette or Lacroix, preferably Janette. Can you help me?" "Lacroix isn't here tonight but Ms Janette - " "Is right here. Now what is it you want - ?" Natalie had the satisfaction of seeing Janette do a double-take. She doubted that anything had surprised the vampire in centuries. "Doctor Lambert! Natalie Lambert!" Natalie smiled. Nobody had called her by that name for many years. Tonight Janette was wearing a flowing midnight blue pant suit of some silky material. Her hair was streaked with the same purple colour as the bartender's locks. Natalie resisted the urge to tug at her own outfit, an emerald green sheath dress similar to the one Janette wore in Nicky's picture, but much less tight and revealing. Nick's locket was encircled her neck. Janette recovered rapidly from her shock. "Andre, a glass of wine for our guest. No, not the red, the white." The bartender silently handed Natalie a fluorescent goblet of liquid. "This way, doctor." Janette led Natalie down a short hall to an office and shut the door, immediately cutting out the din behind them. The room was plush, with deep carpeting and a rosewood desk topped by a state-of-the-art computer. On the wall hung a single oil painting of a sunrise done in vivid gold and reds. "Yes, Nicholai painted that a long time ago," Janette said, when she noticed Natalie's gaze. "That was your son I saw in here last month, wasn't it? He kept reminding me of someone and now of course, it's so obvious. But you're not here about him, are you? You're here about Nicholai." Natalie nodded, unable to speak. Now that she was here, she felt frightened, not of the other vampire, but of what she was doing. "He told me about that night in the loft. He did mean to be with you. But - " Janette waved her hand - "there was Lacroix. Now, my dear - " her voice sounded compassionate - "so many years have gone by in your mortal life. You've obviously settled down somewhere and have a family. I can understand how someone like Nicholai could linger in your memories but do you think this is wise?" "I just want to see him again." Natalie finally found her tongue. "Please tell me, is he happy? Has he given up hope of achieving mortality?" "He is content enough in his life, I think. And I believe he has given up his quest for mortality." "I need to see him. Do you know where he is?" "I might," Janette replied carefully. "He looks the same as the last time you saw him. He's settled down now, Natalie. I don't want you disrupting his life. You understand that, don't you?" "Janette, I'm" Natalie hated the note of pleading that crept into her voice. She only planned to use this as a last resort. She struggled for some composure and decided just to blurt it all out. "Janette, I found a lump in my breast. My husband doesn't know. I've sent a tissue sample to the lab and I'm expecting the results back by the time I get home. it runs in the family; my aunt and my grandmother both died of breast cancer.. When I found that picture of you and my son, I, well, it reminded me of the past." "And you want to tie up loose ends because you think you may be dying. Or, do you want something else? Do you want to be brought across? You don't need Nicholai for that. I can do it just as easily." "I just want to see Nick," Natalie said. She refused to think of the possibilities behind that. Janette sighed and pushed a pad of paper and a gold pen across the desk. "Write down where you're staying. I will think about it and get back to you by sundown tomorrow." "Thank you, Janette." It took every bit of strength Natalie had to push herself out of the chair and walk out of the office. Outside, the music and swirling laser lights assailed her senses. She felt numb. There was a taxi cab waiting and she got into it, speaking as little as possible. Once at her hotel suite, Natalie peeled off her clothes and walked blindly into the shower, soaping her hair and body vigorously. She didn't want to think, yet her thoughts continued to needle her, much like the spray of water she stood under. Once, a long time ago, she considered becoming a vampire as a way to stay with Nick. Would she really consider it now to stave off a possible fatal illness? Would she go back to Nick if he wanted her? She felt a sense of shame, knowing she might just abandon her family and career if he even crooked a finger at her. She wondered if a vampire's bite would restore her youth or simply freeze her in her present state. Her hand pressed her left breast, feeling the intruder under her skin. It was up to Janette now. Natalie stepped out of the shower, toweled off and rubbed some vanilla scented lotion onto her body. She realized, guiltily, that she had yet to call Brandon as she slipped into the hotel's thick yellow terrycloth robe. And stiffened. Someone was beyond the door. "Nick!" Natalie cried, almost running out the bathroom, barely noticing the suite was dark. The figure on the bed flicked on a lamp and smiled at her. It was Lacroix. Damn Janette to hell. In a heartbeat Lacroix was behind Natalie, his arms wrapped around, whispering in her ear. "My dear Doctor Lambert, it has been a while, hasn't it? Of course, you show the effects where I don't. But you're still lovely, for a woman of your age, that is. Now don't blame Janette, she didn't want to tell me." "Let go of me," Natalie hissed. "In due time. Now I understand you've been asking questions about Nicholas. Let me assure you, he is healthy and happy or at least as happy as someone like Nicholas can be. And I don't want you upsetting him. The past is dead and buried, or at least it will be, eventually." She bit back a retort she longed to make about staking and burying him. "Janette also mentioned a little feminine problem you may have. But I suspect you have been playing on her sympathies as a member of the same sex so let's just see, shall we?" Natalie gasped as his cool hand slid inside her robe, searching. "So it is true. My apologies." He removed his hand from her breast. "But the question still remains, why are you here? Are you afraid to die, Doctor Lambert? Are you tying up loose ends? Or maybe you just can't get my son out of your mind even after years of trying. Do you want to join my immortal family? I could use some help at Shadows." "I just want to see Nick," Natalie said carefully. She would not show Lacroix her fear. "Well, as I said earlier, I don't want your mortal sensibilities upsetting him. But there is a way - " he grazed her throat slightly with his fangs. "No!" Natalie cried, recoiling. "No?" Lacroix sounded regretful. "Very well." He threw her on the bed. "Now listen to me carefully, Natalie Lambert. You will stop searching for Nicholas as of now. You will have no contact whatsoever with Janette or myself. If you persist, I know young Jordan is a frequent patron of Shadows. It would be so easy to get the information I need out of him. Your son looks much like you and your daughter is quite attractive. Perhaps she likes older men?" Natalie followed his eyes to where she left her purse. Now the contents were spilled all over the walnut dresser. He'd obviously seen the photos of Ellen and Nicky in her wallet. "Don't you touch them," she shrieked, suddenly terrified. "Don't you dare touch my children." "There, there," Lacroix soothed. He straightened the lapels on his burgundy jacket. "Just think about what I've said. You're a parent, you understand about protecting one's child." She covered her face in her hands. She didn't see Lacroix' s expression change to one of reluctant sympathy. When she looked up again, he was gone. Natalie burst into tears. ************************************* "Honey, are you down there? Are you coming to bed?" Brandon's voice floated down the stairs to the rec room, startling Natalie out of her reverie. "Yes, Brandon, I'm here. I'll be up in a few minutes." "Are you OK? You've been kind of quiet ever since you came back from Montreal." She heard the note of concern in her husband's voice and smiled slightly. "I'm fine. Go back to bed. I'll be up as soon as I finish my wine." She listened to his footsteps die away. Dear Brandon. She had to tell him about the biopsy results. On the pine end table where her wine glass sat was another envelope, a much larger Manila envelope sent to her office address. Inside was a single handwritten note in jet black ink on grey stationary. It read: If you change your mind, you know where to come. If you don't, remember what I said. At the bottom was a double "L". She figured Lacroix took one of her business cards when he rifled through her purse that night in the hotel. Along with the note were three glossy 8 x10 colour photos. The first was of Nick standing at a podium, one finger jabbing the air as if he were making a point about something. In the second, he was laughing, his face turned partially away from the camera towards someone outside its parameters. And in the third, he was obviously dozing off over a pile of papers, head in hand. Of course, he looked the same as the last time she saw him. Forever young. "Oh Nick, I hope you're all right," Natalie said. A single tear fell on the photo she was holding. Then she resolutely fed it, and the others to the flames. The Manila envelope and Lacroix's note followed. Natalie closed the fireplace doors and gathered up the ivory envelopes on the pine coffee table. She went to the closet, took down her old tin footlocker and placed them inside. "You think you've won, Lacroix," she whispered, "but you haven't. In the end, I will have won." Then she went upstairs to the bedroom, pausing only to look at her sleeping son on the way. Brandon was an S-shaped lump in the darkness but he rolled over to face her when she sat on the bed. "Are you all right, Sydney?" The full moon peered through a crack in the curtains, illuminating the concern on his face. She touched his hair, remembering how thick it used to be. He was her husband. He gave her a job and a place to stay when she had nowhere to go. He fathered her children. He gave her his love. Natalie willingly admitted to herself that Lacroix had tempted her. But she had made her choice tonight. Her husband, her children, her medical career, all that was real. She could not give them up. Nicholas was but a dream, a sweet, beautiful dream. God willing, someday they'd meet again. "Sydney?" Natalie stroked his lips, feeling their softness. "Brandon, there's something I have to tell you." -30- OK, you can put away your hankies now! As stated in part one, Trek of the Human Heart is meant as a prequel and companion piece to the previously posted Love in Vain, which was supposed to be a stand-alone story. Had I known that Trek was waiting around to be written, I would've posted in order : ) Please send your comments to me at cfarrell@sympatico.ca Thanks for reading! Lee From ???@??? Wed Aug 05 18:29:49 1998 Return-Path: Received: from LISTS.PSU.EDU (psuvm.psu.edu [128.118.56.2]) by pulsar.skyport.net (8.8.8/8.8.8) with SMTP id CAA26703 for ; Wed, 5 Aug 1998 02:12:57 -0400 Message-Id: <199808050612.CAA26703@pulsar.skyport.net> Received: from PSUVM.PSU.