Date: Wed, 29 Jan 97 11:44:03 EST From: Lisa McDavid Subject: Unsuiteds Challenge: Uncle George's Vampire 1/1 To: fkfic-l ======================================================================== Uncle George's Vampire 1/1 An Unsuiteds Challenge Forever Knight story by Lisa McDavid Directly after the end of the scene in Close Call where LaCroix talks Schanke out of thinking that Nick is a vampire. According to Nigel, this was meant to be mere persuasion without the use of the vampire whammy. (No, I'm not going to explain the scientific nature of the whammy. Oh, sorry. Wrong show.) This story is an attempt to explain, as far as anyone can, the flashbacks in the first season's Hunters. ******************************************************************* "Man oh man," said Schanke, taking a long pull on the beer from the CERK refrigerator. "I guess it runs in the family or something. My Grandfather used to tell a story about the time his crazy Great Uncle George chased vampires." "Really?" Lucien LaCroix asked politely. Personally he wasn't interested in the Schanke family legends, but he did want Nicholas's partner safely under supervision until Nicholas and Janette both got home. Schanke just might take it into his head to call one of them. LaCroix didn't think either would answer the phone, "Hello, I actually _am_ a vampire." After eight centuries, he knew all too well what kind of celebration his children would be having. Schanke, now convinced that Janette and Nick were mortal family, did not need confusion over decidedly unfraternal background commentary from Janette. "Yeah. Of course, in 1871 Uncle George was right off the boat from the old country, which was why he grabbed a couple of pieces of hay and held them up like a cross when he saw the vampire feeding on his landlady's cow. He told my Grandfather they'd had vampires in his village in Poland the way Americans had skunks." Schanke stopped short. "Hey, are you ok?" "Yes, yes," LaCroix replied. "This vintage is a bit ... unusual." "You and Nick -- I should have known you were cousins. He drinks that red wine stuff instead of beer, too. Anyway, Uncle George knew what to do about vampires. This one didn't see the straw cross at first, so Uncle George yelled at it in Polish, some kind of formula about 'back in the name of Jesus and Mary and all the saints.'" LaCroix raised one eyebrow. "This American vampire of your great uncle's spoke Polish?" "Well, a lot of people do in Chicago. Maybe it was the tone, or the garlic on Uncle George's breath. Grandfather said he always ate garlic, raw, at supper. Some kind of a tonic, I guess, unless it was part of keeping vampires away. So the vampire jumped like a frog -- Gosh, did you cut yourself?" "No, it's just the wine." LaCroix hastily swept the pieces of the glass's stem up in a newspaper, before his guest noticed that it had broken cleanly in two without damage elsewhere. "I gather one way or another, the vampire saw the cross?" "Yeah, and he growled like ten lions, according to Uncle George. Scared the hell out of the cow, even though she hadn't seemed to mind the vampire drinking from her. Poor thing broke loose from her stall and kicked over the lantern Uncle George had been carrying. The cow shed went up like sky rocket. The vampire got away in all the commotion." "Now why do I think your Uncle George's landlady was named O'Leary?" "Well, I did say Chicago and 1871. You must be interested in history. Pardon? What did you say?" "I merely agreed." In fact, LaCroix had murmured, "No, history is interested in me." "You're right. It was Mrs. O'Leary and that was how the fire started. Uncle George hadn't seen the vampire get away, but Mrs. O'Leary's son Patrick had, and a couple of his friends, plus Patrick's dog Mike." This time LaCroix kept his thought to himself. Poor Nicholas; dogs just aren't for you. Schanke shifted in his chair. "Everybody thought Patrick and his friends were drunk, of course, and must have started the fire themselves, so they had to make themselves scarce. Uncle George tried to explain, but his English wasn't so good. Mrs. O'Leary took a broom to him. He followed Patrick in time to see him make the dog track the vampire. They found him in a hotel a couple of streets away, just coming out with a couple of other vampires, a woman and a man. Uncle George knew they were vampires, because they were with the one he'd seen biting the cow. He didn't know how to say this in English, and anyway Patrick O'Leary and his friends _had_ been drinking. Uncle George decided he'd better show them; he grabbed up a couple of sticks from the street and held them up in the woman's face like a cross. She hissed and showed fangs and her eyes glowed. The first vampire did the same thing." "But not the other man? Perhaps he wasn't a vampire." "No, the other guy sort of turned away, but Uncle George told Grandfather it sounded like laughing, as if a cat could laugh. He was a vampire all right. Or so Uncle George always claimed. They made a break for a livery stable, and the next thing Uncle George and Patrick's friends knew, they were almost run over when the vampires went charging out of town." "I was under the impression that vampires normally flew, or turned into mist," LaCroix observed, artfully casual. "Nah, that's just in the movies, like burning up in sunlight. Uncle George and the rest of the guys got horses, too. I dunno how far they chased the vampires. Uncle George always told that part differently. It was at least thirty miles. The horses were getting pretty winded. The vampires finally hid in an old barn. The guys didn't know what to do, but Uncle George said it happened all the time in the old country. He picked up an axe or something and hacked his way through the wall." "And then? By all means, please continue." "Well, there's not much else to tell. The other man and the woman had gotten away somehow. The first vampire, the one who'd bitten the cow, went after all of the posse at once. Uncle George didn't know much about it. He got knocked out and stabbed with a pitchfork or something. Anyway, Uncle George may have been crazy but he wasn't dumb. When he woke up in jail, he understood enough English to know that Patrick and the others were in a heap of trouble for public drunkness, destruction of property from breaking into the barn, and would have been looking at assault with intent to kill, except that the vampire let on like he'd been clobbered too and didn't remember anything. Uncle George knew when to take a cue, so he jabbered at them in Polish, pretending he didn't speak any English. When they got a translator, he told them he didn't remember either. They had to let him go." LaCroix got up from the table. "I trust your uncle lived happily ever after?" "Well, I don't know about happily. He was always seeing things after that and his digestion was never right. Of course, that may have been the garlic. Hoo boy, look at the time! I've got to get home or Myra will be out after me with a posse of her own." "Don't let me keep you, then." "Thanks for everything, Mr. -- what is your name, anyway?" "Nightcrawler is enough, thank you. Good night, or good morning, Detective Schanke." LaCroix waited until his guest had left the station before taking to the air for his own return home. Once there, he picked up the telephone and punched in a number. "Nicholas, do call me back as soon as Our Fair Lady departs. It's about an old acquaintance of yours from Chicago." ********************************************************************* The end. Cousin Lisa "That will be trouble" McDavid mcdavid-lisa@scarolina.edu Listowner, Forkni-l, Fkfic-l, Fkv4s-l Chief Watcher for Cats, McGregor