From Beth_Washington@AVID.COM Sat Jul 25 19:49:50 1998
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1998 11:44:13 -0400
From: Beth Washington <Beth_Washington@AVID.COM>
To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu
Subject: V4S: Moments of Choice (11/14)

Date: Thu, 23 Jul 1998
From: Virtual Fourth Season <v4s@FKFANFIC.COM>
To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu
Subject: V4S:  Moments of Choice (11/14)

Episode Number:  Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season -
                 Episode #17
Episode Title:   "Moments of Choice"
"Air" Date:      July 23, 1998
Author:          Dawn Steele with help from Libby Singleton

Part 11 of 14

This story is based on characters and situations created by
James Parriott and Barney Cohen and owned by Sony/TriStar.
No infringement is intended.

Copyright 1998 Dawn Steele and Elizabeth Ann Singleton
------------------------------------------------------

      Their "conversation" had continued the moment Janette
had reentered LaCroix' living room.  Nicola insisted on
knowing all the details of why she had returned to Toronto,
and LaCroix continued trying to inflame Nicola to a passion.
Giving him some of the details of what had happened to her
in New Orleans was turning into a mistake.
     "If you've got evidence it *is* the Montreal mob after
you, why not just give it to me?" Nick pleaded.  "You'll be
safe and no one will get hurt.  I'll... come up with
something to explain how you have it."
     "No," Janette said firmly.  "I've already made my own
arrangements."
     "Why not let me *help* you?" he snapped.  Nick had not
slept.  Janette didn't need to have seen him toss and turn,
then finally give into the restlessness of pacing to know.
He not only looked tired and unshaven, but his clothes were
wrinkled and his hair looked like a birds nest.  He must
have slept in his clothes again.
     "They came after me in New Orleans.  Came with fire,
Nicola!"  Janette stopped, and slipped on her jacket in
preparation to leave.  "You know how I have always hated
fire."  She shuddered, remembering how close it had been,
and how her new sensitivity to the sun had almost finished
the job.  In that moment she had desperately wished for
either Nick or LaCroix to be there; to protect her as they
had in the past.  "These are vicious men, Nicola.  They
will..."
     LaCroix placed a hand on Janette's shoulder.  "Then
the answer is simple.  Kill the men and be done with the
matter," he said softly, seductively, into her ear.  "There
was a time, not so long ago, you would not have hesitated."
     "This is not then, LaCroix," Janette said.
     "No, but your true nature is still your true nature, <ma
amie>."
     Janette felt his fingers brush her hair away from her
neck.  She knew this game well; half-seduction, half-
persuasion.  "But what is my true nature?"
     "The same as it has always been, my dear."
     When Janette stepped free so that she could look at
LaCroix, Nick stepped between them, facing LaCroix.  "There
are other ways to handle this!"
     "How?" LaCroix asked.  "Mortal justice?  There is a
finality to our way...."
     "You mean *your* way, LaCroix," Nick argued.  "Just
what will Janette to do when the mob sends others, and they
will?"
     Janette watched them shout at each other.  A scene
played over a million times in her memory.  They weren't
fighting over her, but merely using this as an excuse to
play out their eternal battle.  A ripple of sadness came
over her.
     What would Nicola say if she told him she had killed
those men in New Orleans?  Would he forgive her if she told
him she had been half- burnt and ravenous for their healing
blood?  That she had gotten the "information" he wanted so
badly through hypnotizing the second one before killing him?
He hadn't been there.  LaCroix hadn't been there -- and she
had still survived.
     Did she care what he thought of her anymore?  Janette
buttoned together her jacket.  She hated being hunted, hated
the fear and the confusion, hated....

>>----------->

1218 AD,
Slightly east of Persia

     Janette watched LaCroix finish off the third of the
assassins and throw the body into the back of the stable
with the other two.  Without looking at her, as she waited
outside for more invaders, he set about putting the tack
back on the horses.  The two of them had been on the run for
over two nights now, and it seemed them men had found them
every time they stopped.  If LaCroix had not been with her,
she would be dead by now.
     "How long will they follow us?", she whispered.
     He ignored her for a minute, as he'd ignored her
previous questions, and then answered calmly as if he had
been asked a mild, academic question. "The Nizariyya have
been using assassination as part of their war strategy for
the last few decades.  I became interested in this supposed
'Order of Assassins' from rumors spread by former Crusaders
when we visited England last summer."
     Janette shivered.  The men who had attacked them had
had no thought of their own safety, and their blood had
tasted...  strange.
     "How long will the follow us?", she demanded.  She had
to know.  *Had* to know when she would be safe again.
     "The <fida'is>?  Hasan's followers?" LaCroix tugged on
the halters of the horses and started walking them towards
her.  "Their <al-da'wa al-qadima>... their teachings
encourage self-sacrifice and obedience.  To die trying to
kill an enemy would place them on the rolls of honor.  For
killing one of the sons of Hasan-i Sabbah, they will go to
any length necessary until we are dead."
     "We must go back!  Kill the man who ordered them after
us!" Janette felt true fear for the first time in over two
centuries.  This was wrong.  They were supposed to be the
ones feared, not mortals!
     LaCroix laughed humorlessly.  "You may go back if you
wish, but I do not wish to die a certain death.  He is
supposed to be guarded by a thousand men, each believing to
die in his cause is the surest route to their heaven."
     After testing the tack, LaCroix swung into the saddle.
"We will travel until we are out of his reach.  They are
enemies with the Mongols, and we will arrange to be guests
of this Genghis Khan that I have heard so much about."
     Janette swung up into the saddle, and slowly started
after LaCroix. Perhaps he was right, and this was their only
choice.  She had never thought to come up against something
LaCroix did not wish to fight.  To have come up against
something stronger than LaCroix...  She flinched and then
carefully schooled her face once more.  Perhaps it would be
better to stay with LaCroix for more than what he could
teach her.
     LaCroix had given her immortality, strength beyond that
of any mortal man and the ability to sway their minds to do
what she wished.  This... misadventure was more than a slap
in the face.  It was a reminder that if she miss-stepped
even slightly, death was still waiting for her.

<-----------<<

      "If they come, she should simply kill them, as well,"
LaCroix commented with a shrug.  "Surely they are as
inconsequential as most mortals."  He strolled over to the
bar, where he prepared his evening's third glass.  He
gestured with the bottle.  "More, Janette?"  When she
nodded, LaCroix filled her glass then continued as if she
were not there.
     "She has the power, and certainly knows proper disposal
techniques."
     "How do you know she *wants* to kill again?  You are
tempting her back into your influence at every turn!  Taunt
me if you must, LaCroix, but leave Janette alone!"  Nick was
working himself up to a fury, and his volume of his voice
continued to rise.
     LaCroix' eyes narrowed.  "I am *not* the one upsetting
her, Nicholas.  It is your constant prattle and nonsense
'influencing' her, as it were."
     What was it LaCroix had said the night before, Janette
wondered?  'Just like old times?'  She moved away from the
men, adsorbed in her own thoughts as the disagreement heated
up.  Arguments between LaCroix and Nicola were nothing new.
She knew that: Mortality, women, or blood.  She'd lived
with nearly 800 years of this, and it was growing tiresome.
This time, after all, they were using *her* as another
excuse to fight over Nick's ideology.
     She was not a small toy for them to battle over; each
claiming as their own to bend and play with.
     "She *will* take care of the situation properly,"
LaCroix emphasized.  His nose and brow were wrinkled in
anger.  His voice was cold, and filled with anger.
     Janette took another sip of her drink, trying to force
their voices into the background of her thoughts.  It
proved impossible as the 'discussion' grew louder.  Instead
of continuing to retreat and ignore them, she found herself
growing angry instead.
     "Janette is not yours to command anymore, LaCroix,"
Nick said, pronouncing each word separately.  His hands
were clinched into fists, his stance defiant.
     "That has yet to be..."
     Finishing her glass, she forced herself not to crush it
beneath her fingers, and placed it back on the bar.  Enough
was enough was...
     "Enough!"  Janette's shout earned both men's attention.
She glared at one, then the other.  "I am not a piece of
chattel for either of you to order about.  Not now, nor
have I ever been.  Neither of you will 'command' me... do
you understand?"
     "I wasn't trying to order you," Nick said.  "Just
offering advice...."
     "It *was* my mistake to ask for help -- of LaCroix" she
agreed.  "However, I see the error of my way now.  I
refuse to stand here any longer, allowing you both to use
*me* as yet another excuse to argue.  I'll handle this
situation myself."
     Without looking back, she walked swiftly from the room.
"She is touchy these days, isn't she," she heard LaCroix say
smugly.  She barely heard Nick's last frustrated remark, "I
need to get to work."

***

     Nick slid into the driver's seat of his Caddy, then
leaned over to check his hair in the rear view mirror.  As
he feared, he was a mess.  LaCroix had offered the use of
his shower, but Nick wanted, needed, to get away from him
for a while.  Besides, he had to chase after Janette, if
only to ease his fear that she was about to make a bad
situation worse.  He'd made the mistake of voicing his plan
aloud, causing LaCroix to deem his desire "understandable
but unwise."
     Clearing his mind as much as possible under the
circumstances, he attempted to search for her using the link
between them.  It was time to see if it was strong enough
to track her before she got too far away.  He started the
car, then threw it into drive.
     Although Janette was far from an average fledgling, she
was still his responsibility.  The possibility existed that
she might not have relearned constraint yet.  What if she
went on a rampage, killing indiscriminately?  She'd slapped
him, hadn't she?  Something she'd never done before.  And
he still hadn't managed to talk to her about the destruction
of Joan's cross.
     As he pulled away from the curb, he tried to tighten
the link, hone in on it enough to perhaps, somehow, stop
her.  His concentration was broken, however, when he
spotted LaCroix walking out of the building.
     The older vampire nodded at him before glancing around
for possible witnesses and finally taking flight.  Nick was
puzzled, LaCroix usually launched from the roof.  Perhaps
LaCroix had been checking on him?  Their argument had ended
after Janette left, and his master had even placed a
sympathetic hand on his shoulder.  Of course the gesture
had been brief and followed by another round of 'mortals
die, does it really matter how or when' advice.
     "Damn it," he muttered to himself when realization hit.
He slammed his right hand, palm first, against the steering
wheel.  Staring through the front window, he studied the
stars, dimmed by the city's lights.  By forcing his will on
Janette, he was about to do the very thing LaCroix was
constantly trying to do to him.
     Every instinct within him screamed out to claim Janette
as his.  To protect her against LaCroix whether she wanted
it or not.  To force her to bend to his will, and his own
moral code.
     He slammed his hand against the steering wheel again;
hard enough for it to groan ominously.  "No."  He wouldn't
do that to her -- would *try* not to do that to her.  He
would give Janette time.  Let her choose her own actions.
     A glance at his watch showed he had just enough time to
swing by the loft for a change of clothes before his shift
started.  Whether or not Janette was going to cooperate; he
had a murder to solve.  He still hadn't forgiven her for
destroying one of the symbols of his faith, but right now,
he would help her in this if in nothing else.

(to be continued ...)

--------------------------------------------
For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight
Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@fkfanfic.com.
From Beth_Washington@AVID.COM Sat Jul 25 19:49:55 1998
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1998 11:44:20 -0400
From: Beth Washington <Beth_Washington@AVID.COM>
To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU
Subject: V4S: Moments of Choice (12/14)

Date: Thu, 23 Jul 1998
From: Virtual Fourth Season <v4s@FKFANFIC.COM>
To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu
Subject: V4S:  Moments of Choice (12/14)

Episode Number:  Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season -
                 Episode #17
Episode Title:   "Moments of Choice"
"Air" Date:      July 23, 1998
Author:          Dawn Steele with help from Libby Singleton

Part 12 of 14

This story is based on characters and situations created by
James Parriott and Barney Cohen and owned by Sony/TriStar.
No infringement is intended.

Copyright 1998 Dawn Steele and Elizabeth Ann Singleton
------------------------------------------------------

     Old Man Stapleton was reviewing paperwork on his desk.
Most of it dealt with his "legitimate" businesses.  The ones
whose sole purpose was to launder money.  He looked almost
innocuous sitting there at the desk, an older businessman or
accountant perhaps.  Wire-rimmed eyeglasses, the ones the
subordinates never saw, were perched firmly on his nose.
     The pungent odor of cigar smoke alerted him to the
other's presence.  Scanning the room, he finally caught a
flare from the red tip of a thin cigar.  The person had been
hidden in the deep recesses of the shadows by the window.
     "Good evening, sir."  He stood up calmly, and dropped
the eyeglasses on his desk.  "Do you have any new news for
me?"
     "She's on the move again."  It was a gravelly voice,
one that fit its owner well.  "Your men, if they're able,
will be able to kill her tonight, and a potentially
dangerous opponent will be removed from both our lives."
     Stapleton spared a few thoughts as to how he had gotten
into the office, and then firmly pushed the matter from his
mind.  Those that questioned this man... disappeared.
     There was movement in the shadows, and the man stepped
further into the room.  His expensive tailored suit hung
limply on the ancient form, but his hair was still full and
he moved as smoothly as a man decades younger.  A deeply
inhaled breath, and then he blew it out in one long,
concentrated stream.
     "I'll need to meet your men... and give them some
*instructions* as to how to deal with her.  Otherwise they
will fail as quickly as the ones in New Orleans."  He
smiled, revealing aged teeth.
     For a moment, Stapleton could have sworn that the eyes
glimmered yellow like that of a wolf.
     "Yes, Mr. Constantine."
     Walking into the main area of the room, he drew deeply
on his cigar.  "I loved cigars and *hated* giving them up."
Constantine turned and stared directly at Stapleton.  "Do
you know how much I despise giving things up?"
     "Uh..."  Stapleton was at a momentary loss for words.
He hadn't expected Contantine to drop by.  Most of his
business was conducted by phone these days.  Seeing him in
person, Stapleton was surprised at how... healthy he
looked considering the rumors had placed him at death's door
a couple of years ago.
     "Giving you her last address may have certain
*repercussions* for me.  It settled the debt between us, but
was also given due to inaccurate information I had about the
lady's current... health."  Constantine put out the tip of
cigar on the top of Stapleton's grey marble desk.  "If the
information leaks out that I gave you that address... let's
just say I might have to *give up* my business and leave
town, and you might have to *give up* your ability to
breathe.
     "Do you understand me, Mr.  Stapleton?"
     "Yes."  Stapleton wished futilely for Constantine to be
talking to him on the phone instead of here -- in person.
"Yes, I do."

***

     "Sorry I'm late," Nick said.  He tossed his jacket on
the empty chair next to his desk.  "I didn't sleep well
today and just couldn't seem to get moving tonight."
     "At least I can halfway understand that excuse," Adam
muttered, not looking up from the stack of papers he
appeared to be studying.
     "What's that suppose to mean?" Nick sat down, hard.
     When Adam looked up, he was scowling.  "What does it
mean?   It means you sure have a lot of excuses.  It seems
like you stick me with both our paperwork, the desk work and
trying to cover your missing butt and sudden disappearances
with Reese!"
     "That's *not* true!"
     "It *is* true, Nick!" Adam leaned forward, his voice a
harsh whisper.  "Listen, I can understand you being
distracted over Natalie when you two were on the outs but
you seem to be doing fine now.  And what about *this* case,
huh?  Where the hell have you been when Reese has wanted
updates?  He's not going to buy the excuse that you're out
following up on leads much longer, and frankly I'm tired of
telling him that.  If we don't start communicating better...."
     Nick rubbed his palms together thoughtfully.  Adam was
right.  With his focus on Janette's return, he'd hardly
given thought to his office duties.  His mortal life was
taking a distant second place to more immediate concerns.
"Listen, you're right," he finally murmured.  "An old
friend, a real close one, I guess you could say she's like a
sister to me, is in town and having a personal crisis.  I've
been too distracted to work well.  But that's not your
problem.  Maybe I need to come clean with Reese...."
     Adam shook his head as Nick began to stand.  "No,
better not.  He's not feeling very charitable towards you
right now.  The Smithers report was late."
     "Was not!  I finished that days ago."
     "And left it in your filing cabinet.  You never gave it
to him.  I took care of it, though."
     "Damn."  Nick slumped in his chair.  "I guess I really
have been messing up lately.  I've never really been a team
player, you know."  He forced himself to smile.  "I'll do
better.  I promise."
     "You're only human," Adam said, though he hardly
sounded forgiving.  "At least I have a lead on our latest."
Reaching over the desk, he handed Nick two computer
printouts.  "You'll probably remember Janette DeBrabant
from one of your unsolveds of last year.  That other one,
it's from Mrs. Garcia's description."
     "So?  They don't look anything alike," Nick commented.
He hoped his remark hadn't been too quick.  Another police
manhunt after Janette would only make this whole situation
harder to control.
     "Are you kidding?!" Adam stood up, moving around to
stand behind Nick.  With his arm extended over Nick's
shoulder, Adam pointed to the most current of the portraits.
"The resemblance is remarkable!"
     "I don't think so," Nick said, resisting the urge to
simply whammy Adam and be done with the argument.  "The
eyes, they're all wrong.  And the hair?  Totally different
style."
     "Hairstyles can be changed...."
     "Excuse me, Detectives," a uniformed officer
interrupted the pair.  "We just took this call on the main
line.  The caller, a woman, said to give Detective Knight
this message, then hung up before we had a chance to
identify her.  Came from a pay phone downtown."
     Nick took the note.  Adam read over his shoulder.
     "It's signed Janette!" Adam exclaimed.  "I told you
she had something to do with this.  Why would she send it to
you?"
     "It just says to meet her."  Nick started to point out.
     "Then let's meet her!" Adam was already reaching for
his leather jacket.
     "I'm going alone...."
     "The hell you are!  We're partners...*remember*?"
     Nick slipped on his own jacket.  Whatever Janette had
planned was going to be dangerous, with the mob trying to
kill her, how could it not be?  But Adam was right, and
it'd be hard to explain another solo venture.  He would just
have to get rid of him at some point.  "Yeah, I remember.
Let's go...  partner."

(to be continued ...)

--------------------------------------------
For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight
Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@fkfanfic.com.
From Beth_Washington@AVID.COM Sat Jul 25 19:50:00 1998
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1998 11:44:26 -0400
From: Beth Washington <Beth_Washington@AVID.COM>
To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU
Subject: V4S: Moments of Choice (13/14)

Date: Thu, 23 Jul 1998
From: Virtual Fourth Season <v4s@FKFANFIC.COM>
To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu
Subject: V4S:  Moments of Choice (13/14)

Episode Number:  Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season -
                 Episode #17
Episode Title:   "Moments of Choice"
"Air" Date:      July 23, 1998
Author:          Dawn Steele with help from Libby Singleton

Part 13 of 14

This story is based on characters and situations created by
James Parriott and Barney Cohen and owned by Sony/TriStar.
No infringement is intended.

Copyright 1998 Dawn Steele and Elizabeth Ann Singleton
------------------------------------------------------

     It was time.  They were here -- all of them.
     Janette waited carefully in the doorway of the hotel
entrance until she was sure that the right men were watching
her.  After giving them a bit more time, she pulled the
lapels of her overcoat a bit closer together and started
walking down the street.
     Half a block away, she started visibly as if in sudden
fear and started running down the street.
     All her senses told her they were now following and
quickly catching up -- a fierce exhilaration filled her.
This ws as it had been centuries past when she'd played cat
and mouse with her prey; only her knowing which was which.
Carefully, she gathered her senses and pushed the feeling
down.  This night was too important to ruin with her love of
the hunt.
     One of her two pursuers caught up with her, and fixed
her on the spot with the threat of a Beretta.  He motioned
her into the alley behind her and paced her step for
backwards step.
     He was young, and better looking than Janette had
expected; she'd always had a weakness for blonds.  His
smile, however, was anything but handsome.
     "Gotcha!"
     "What do you want?" Janette played for time, while she
played her own waiting game.  The other players on the board
should be showing up any minute.
     "I want my partner to back me up."  The car pulling up
to the curb was black; a sleek BMW.  "Now I want you to
cooperate, and tell us what information you have on
Stapleton and where you hid it."
     Janette forced herself to shake, as if in fear.  "I...
I don't *have* it anymore!  It burned along with my house in
New Orleans -- you *have* to believe me!"  Her eyes widened
as she willed him to accept it, and she felt his mind twist
and rearrange to her wishes.  Janette almost smiled.  This
was going to work.
     He grinned.  "Then I can take care of business."
     The second man had moved up beside him, and Janette
head swam from the scent of garlic that pervaded his very
being.  He pulled out another gun, and Janette felt control
of the situation teeter and slip.
     "Tell me who it was that sent you here?  Who betrayed
me?"  Her eyes pierced into the eyes of the newcomer, and she
*felt* another's influence upon him.  An influence that she
knew she could break.
     Janette smiled.  Soon, she would know who was after
her.  Who had betrayed her -- and then they would pay.
     She dropped to the ground as the garlic coated bullets
slammed through her chest.  Her last thought before dropping
unconscious was that her plans might have to change.

***

     Nick and Adam had been talking to the reception clerk
when Janette had walked through the lobby.  Nick had sensed
her passage, but waited until she was on her way out the
door before alerting Adam.  Janette wouldn't talk to him in
front of his partner.
     "Adam?" He nudged his partner firmly.  "I think I just
spotted her going outside."
     They ran out of the doorway, but Janette was already
out of sight -- to mortal eyes.  "You take the left, and
I'll go that way!"  Pushing Adam in the direction *other*
than the one he could sense Janette, Nick started moving
down the street.
     He could feel her presence up ahead, and could sense...
exhilaration?  Satisfaction?  She must not be blocking him
out.  She was letting him know what she was experiencing.
What was she *planning*?
     Nick had taken one step into a back alley in order to
take to the air when he heard the gunshots.  "Janette!"
Pushing up into the air, he hovered, trying to get a sense
of her whereabouts.  Nothing!  He heard running footsteps
through the alley below; it was Adam with his gun drawn and
breathing hard.
     "Freeze!"
     Nick moved through the air so that the building no
longer blocked his view and saw them moments after Adam's
shout.  A large bundle was dropped into the trunk and then
the lid slammed down.
     More shots rang through the air, and Nick made a
decision.  With a blur of movement, he came up beside Adam
and started firing at the two men.  Adam spared him a quick
glance before ducking behind the relative safety of a car.
     Nick aimed carefully, and a bullet winged past one of
their assailants heads.  Too close for comfort apparently.
They both dived into the car, one into the drivers seat and
the other firing shots in their direction from the opened
passenger door.
     A squeal of tires signaled their escape.
     The tires, and... the stream of profanities that
started coming from Adam's mouth.
     "... Hell!" Adam muttered, and kicked a nearby trash
can.  The metal dented in response.  "She calls us up,
probably for help, and we end up watching her get killed.
Where were you?  You were ahead of me!"
     "I thought I spotted her further down the street, but
it was someone else.  I messed up."  He put away his gun.
"Come on.  Let's get back to the Caddy.  We can radio in a
description of their car.  With any luck, they'll be caught
before they can dispose of her body."
     Nick thought of the feelings he had gotten from
Janette, and his fateful decision to go along with whatever
she was scheming.  She might have a plan, but plans had a
way of going awry.  He found himself wishing her luck.  Bad
luck for the police in their search, and enough good luck
for himself so that he could catch up with them before
Janette did something he couldn't, or wouldn't cover up.

***

     Janette came to in the confined space of the small
trunk.  The bumps and sounds were enough to tell her that
they were travelling at a respectable speed over a dirt
road, probably in the countryside north of Toronto.  It
would have been the work of a moment to bust the lock and
fly off into the night, a minor effort and she would be free
to run and hide again.  Either LaCroix or Nicola would take
her in.  She could find another way to deal with this mess
left over from the last few tumultuous years.
     She could feel holes in her overcoat from where the
bullets had passed through, and she still ached as her body
tried to get rid of the garlic poisoning her system.
Still... there had to be a way to use what she knew to her
advantage.  A thousand years of experience had to count for
something.
     The blond one knew nothing of vampires, she was sure of
that and the other one was acting under a compulsion.  He
would not be able to react as quickly as one working under
his own initiative.  He probably expected her to be
unconscious from the bullets for some time, but there he had
underestimated her.
     Men were always underestimating her.  They weren't the
only ones who could be dangerous.

>>---------->

1220,
Genghis Khan's camp near Bukhara

     Janette breathed in the night air: heavy with smoke,
the smell of burning meat and a thousand campfires.  They
were on campaign again, joining the Khan in one of his
endless forays.  She started to walk between the sleeping
bodies on the ground.  Her leather soled boots made no
sound, and she disturbed none of their dreams.
     The last two years had been enlightening ones, both as
a vampire and as a woman in foreign lands.  She was starting
to enjoy the different spices and memories that flavored
their blood instead of trying to dismiss them.  LaCroix had
been right to insist on her staying with him.
     Janette kept her eyes downcast, and continued walking.
Her black hair, braided in the fashion of the camp
followers, let her slip anonymously amongst them and the
flickering shadows were kind to the paleness of her skin in
amongst all these golden hued strangers.  She had studied
the habits of strangers until she knew exactly how to act,
how to dress, how to speak, when it was safer to be in the
background, and when to act freely.
     She still missed Paris, but now knew she would see it
soon.  LaCroix was getting bored here, and Janette had
started reminding him of the delights to be found along the
"Frankish" coast.  They could again enjoy the parties and
the nights together.  Perhaps....
     A pebble on the ground almost made her misstep, and she
forced herself to concentrate.  It would not do to fall
here, not when she was so close to her objective.
     LaCroix was starting to talk about taking another
companion as if it had been his own idea.  Another companion
would mean his need for control would be shared instead of
her being its only recipient.  He was even willing to have
her help him make the choice.  She could see him at a
campfire up ahead, talking to one of the commanders.
     It was safer if she stayed with him.  She knew that
now.  But someday....

***

     Janette shifted positions in the trunk until she was
more comfortable, and then rested.  It would take a while
for her system to get rid of the garlic poisoning.
     She had fed well in preparation of the night's work,
and her ability to heal -- unlike her sensitivity to
sunlight -- was greater than that of the average newborn
vampire.  Whoever had influenced the mobster had
underestimated her.
     No.  Her plan could still work.  She would make it
work.  What the future held, and how she could make peace
with Nicola was still uncertain.  But right now, right here,
she was in control of her own destiny.
     The car slowed down, and then Janette felt the
acceleration as it turned a corner.  A couple of minutes
passed, and then the car came to a complete stop.

***

     Cellucci turned off the car, and slipped the keys into
his pants.  It was time to finish off the body like he'd
been told to.  There were sharpened pieces of wood in the
trunk, some rope and a shovel.  Everything he'd need.  The
first for his captive, and the others for....
     "Let's finish this."  McCully stepped out, and walked
to the back of the car.  "Pop the trunk."  He snapped,
impatient as ever.
     Cellucci got a pair of leather gloves out of the glove
compartment, and slipped them on.  Leaning down, he pulled
the small latch for the trunk, and then stepped out to the
back of the car.  "Wrap the body in the blanket, and put it
over by those trees."  He pointed towards a small stand of
birch remaining defiantly beside the clear-cutter's access
road.
     Cellucci reached into his jacket, his hand moving past
his favorite gun and then pulling out a smaller semi-
automatic.  He walked calmly over to McCully, and kicked the
bundle on the ground.
     "She's dead.  Don't worry about it," McCully said.  "I
don't know how she killed the others, but she went down
easily enough tonight.  By morning we'll be long gone, and
the cops won't find her for years, or perhaps never."
     "Well... you're partially right."  With a smooth,
practiced motion, Cellucci slammed the butt of his gun into
McCully's head and watched him fall and roll to the ground.
The man was already trying for his gun.  Cellucci tightened
his trigger finger.
     "I've been waiting a long time for this," he stated.
     "Wait!  Did Stapleton tell you to kill me?" McCully
pushed himself back along the ground, trying to get away
from the open end of the gun and Cellucci's half-smile.
"I've got friends!  Money!"
     "It's too bad you underestimated her.  Thought she was
dead, and then she managed to get off a shot before I could
take her down."  Cellucci smiled and then pulled the trigger
repeatedly.  "Too bad...."
     Cellucci stared at the two bodies on the ground.  One
to be buried, and one to be...  He headed for the back of
the car to get the stakes.
     He never made it.
     The world faded as a pair of startling blue eyes
latched onto his.  All he could see were those eyes, and
all he could hear was her voice.  He knew he was speaking,
but he couldn't hear what he was telling her.  And then he
couldn't remember anything.
     Except the sound of laughter.

***

     Janette was leaning against a tree, staring at the
clear, late night sky when Nick arrived.  The link between
them was open, not shuttered as she usually had it, and he
could feel her clearly -- a mix of satisfaction and
melancholy.
     "Bon soir," she murmured.  "It has turned into a
beautiful evening.  A night for flying and the hunt."
     "Janette."  He slipped his hand through hers
companionably, and looked up into the night; trying to find
the same star, the same viewpoint.  "What happened tonight?"
     "Janette DeBrabant died."  She squeezed his hand
slightly.  "On the run from mobsters, she was shot down and
is buried where no one will ever find her.  She will not be
tracked down from city to city, or have to worry about a
'price' on her head.  Now only Janette DuCharme...  or
whatever name I have next, remains."
     "Did you do this for me?  So that you wouldn't have to
kill them?"  He was still angry about the cross, but very
glad that she hadn't killed those men.  He would have felt
the guilt as if he had killed them himself.  He wanted to
start talking -- clear the air between them, but he didn't
know how.  If she left... he would never have the chance.
     Janette sighed, and Nick felt the link between them
close down; become shuttered so that all he could feel was
her presence.  "No.  I did this for myself, Nicola."
     Her fingers slipped from his, and he immediately felt
more alone.  "Stay!"  He smiled charmingly.  "Come back to
Toronto for a while.  There's too much we have to talk
about, and... I need to know that you're safe."
     "There are too many people who knew me before, I stayed
in Toronto too long.  And there would be other...
complications."  She shrugged.  "It was time to move on.  I
am not mortal anymore, and likely never will be -- the
passage of time will mark me only by the consternation on
familiar faces when we meet again."
     "Just for a few months; a year perhaps.  You wouldn't
have to be high profile, or associate with the mortals you
knew before.."  Nick stepped closer, and took her hand
again.  "Miklos could use your help with the Raven, it's had
to undergo some changes since you left."
     "<Je sais>."
     She stepped away and looked at the clear night sky, and
then the clearing around them.  Pointing to the west, she
said, "one of the mobsters is buried over there.  His
partner killed him.  The other has gone back to his boss
under the mistaken impression that he's killed me."
     "Janette?"
     "I thought you would like to know."
     "Please stay.  I've missed you."  It was true.
     "Nick, we cannot change the choices we make... or our
actions.  There is only the future."  Her eyes were sad when
they looked into his, but calmer than at their last
confrontation at LaCroix' home.  "I'll think about
staying."
     She flew off into the night sky; leaving Nick alone
with his thoughts, the grave, and trying to figure out how
on earth he could "discover" it.

(to be continued ...)

--------------------------------------------
For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight
Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@fkfanfic.com.
From Beth_Washington@AVID.COM Sat Jul 25 19:50:07 1998
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1998 11:44:37 -0400
From: Beth Washington <Beth_Washington@AVID.COM>
To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU
Subject: V4S: Moments of Choice (14/14)

Date: Thu, 23 Jul 1998
From: Virtual Fourth Season <v4s@FKFANFIC.COM>
To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu
Subject: V4S:  Moments of Choice (14/14)

Episode Number:  Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season -
                 Episode #17
Episode Title:   "Moments of Choice"
"Air" Date:      July 23, 1998
Author:          Dawn Steele with help from Libby Singleton

Part 14 of 14

This story is based on characters and situations created by
James Parriott and Barney Cohen and owned by Sony/TriStar.
No infringement is intended.

Copyright 1998 Dawn Steele and Elizabeth Ann Singleton
------------------------------------------------------

     After reading the report over, Nick signed it.  "Looks
good to me."  He shut the folder and added it to the growing
stack in his 'out' box.  Feeling increasingly like he was
being stared at, Nick looked up.  His partner's arm was
stretched out, palm up.  The mortal's eyebrows were raised,
his eyes expectant.  It was uncannily like the expression
he'd often seen LaCroix make.
     "What?" Nick asked.
     "The report, hand it over.  I'm going to personally
deliver this to our dear Captain Reese," Adam stressed.
     "Don't you trust me?"
     Adam looked away, at the ceiling, then back at Nick.
"Frankly, no.  I mean I turn my back for a sec, and you're
gone.  I'd heard you're a loner, and everyone knows you
never wanted a partner in the first place.  Maybe...  Hell,
I'll just say it.  I'm thinking of asking for a transfer to
day shift.  Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll let you go
at it solo."
     "Adam, I *like* working with you," Nick said, genuinely
hurt.  Adam frowned, blinking exaggeratedly a few times.
"Okay, I admit I'm a loner.  But... maybe I *do* need a
partner, and that partner might as well be you.  Besides,
who else but you would cover for me with Reese?"
     One corner of Adam's mouth curled up.  "Damned by
faint praise.  There's still no way I'm going to risk this
one ending up in your 'file cabinet of no return.'  This case
has been hard enough to believe as it is."
     Shifting in his chair, Nick propped his chin up on his
hands and looked at him innocently.  "What do you mean?"
     Adam snatched the file from Nick's stack.  "This
DeBrabant woman calls here, wanting to meet us when she's
wanted for murder?"
     "It's not unheard of," Nick remarked, shrugging.
"Maybe she was tired of running, of hiding."
     "Or scared," Adam added.
     "She didn't seem the skittish type to me."
     "Then we get information from a lawyer about her safety
deposit box that has information implicating Stapleton's
syndicate to the Montreal killings?  Then you track down the
grave of one of her murderers, but she's still missing --
buried out there.  Then Stapleton goes missing."  Adam
snorted in disbelief.  "It's just all too strange; like
something out of a movie."
     "Guess we'll really never know now, huh?"  Adam opened
the folder and thumbed through it.
     "Yeah."
     Dumping the folder on his desk, Adam was now
frantically shuffling the contents around.  Nick stood,
leaning over his desk to watch.
     "Something wrong?"
     "I'll say," Adam grumbled.  "The printouts of the
sketches are gone.  You know, the ones... Guess I'll have to
reprint them."
     "I'll do it," Nick offered.  "It's my fault you've
been working so long lately.  I'll stick them in the folder
and give it to Reese myself."
     "You promise?"
     "Positive.  If you're worried, I give you permission to
grill me tomorrow night."
     "I will."  Adam nodded, then grabbed his jacket.  "And
I'm outta here!  See you tomorrow."
     As soon as Nick was sure his partner was gone for the
night, he cued up the computer file containing the most
recent of Janette's likeness.  Smiling broadly, he hit the
icon to print.  The picture didn't look a thing like
Janette.  The eyes were wrong, the nose too broad.
Besides, Janette, mortal or vampire, would never wear her
hair that way.  Larry Merlin had worked his computer
hacking magic once again.
     After making sure the file was complete and ready for
Reese, Nick slipped his coat on.  However, he only made it
a few steps before he turned and went back to his desk.  He
reached for the phone, then quickly shoved the hand in his
pocket before he'd even touched it.  Drawing in a deep,
unneeded breath, he withdrew his hand and grabbed the phone,
quickly dialing the number.
     "Janette, I was wondering if you wanted to meet me in a
few minutes.... Yeah, I know it's close to dawn, but maybe
you could come to the loft.  *Just* you.  A lot has happened
between us.  Some things I regret, some things that I don't,
and some...  I think we need to talk just by ourselves."

THE END

-------------------------------------------------------------

A note from the author:

"I'd like to thank Libby Singleton for helping me write this
story.  I was running into a real writer's block at the time, and
avoiding anything to do with LaCroix (who she and I have
different feelings about).  This story has been a real eye-opener
throughout the whole writing process and is a joint
effort of a lot of people.  If you've got any comments, good or
bad, I'd love to hear from you.  I'm travelling this summer, so I
might not get back to you right away, but I will eventually.
Thanks."

Dawn Steele
steele@lillonet.org

-------------------------------------------------------------
For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight
Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@fkfanfic.com.