Date: Fri, 11 Apr 1997 21:56:29 -0400 Reply-To: Virtual Fourth Season Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Virtual Fourth Season Subject: V4S: The Nature of the Beast -- Part 2 (11/12) To: FKFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU Episode Number: Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season - Episode #10 Episode Title: "The Nature of the Beast -- Part 2" "Air" Date: April 3, 1997 Author: Susan M. Garrett Part 11 of 12 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 1997 Susan M. Garrett -------------------------- THE NATURE OF THE BEAST "Blood's been shed," Adam said. "The night watchman at the hunting club--" "The old man at the club...he was going to hurt Vinney," countered Nalvayko. The knife slipped slightly to one side, away from the stock boy's neck as he shifted the hold on his hostage's arms. "I had to protect him. Vinney needed protection. He didn't know what could happen." "Vinney's dead." Adam took another step forward, watching Nalvayko carefully. Nalvayko kept moving backward, unaware that he was only inches from a stack of boxes standing in the aisle. If he could get Nalvayko to back into them, lose his balance-- "He was going to tell them I killed the old man. I was him. How could he tell them that? How could he?" "Did you kill Vinney?" Adam took another step forward. "Is that how you protected him--by killing him?" "No! I--" Nalvayko moved back...and fell. The knife twisted up in the air and clattered to the cement floor. The stock boy rolled against the other set of shelves, there was a blur...and suddenly he wasn't there any more. Nalvayko pushed his way out from beneath the boxes, reached for the knife-- But Adam was there first. He stepped on Nalvayko's hand to stop him, the movement knocking the knife away. Nalvayko grabbed Adam's ankle with his free hand, and Adam fell into the boxes on top of Nalvayko. It was like some weird, semi-pro wrestling match, Nalvayko screaming in Russian and Adam trying to hold onto him, both of them slipping and sliding on the officially licensed, plastic- covered Toronto Bluejays seat cushions that had spilled out of the boxes. Finally landing a punch that knocked the suspect down, Adam put a knee in Nalvayko's back, grabbed his wrists...then fished through the seat cushions to find his handcuffs, which had gotten loose during the fight. Cuffing Nalvayko, he hauled him to his feet, then looked up as a cheer erupted from the end of the aisle. There were a dozen uniformed officers and plain-clothes detectives standing there, applauding and cheering--with a few whistles thrown in for good measure. When a plain- clothes officer came forward to take Nalvayko from him, Adam looked up and swore that he caught sight of Nick standing behind the stock boy. He bent down to retrieve his gun, and when he rose again...Nick was gone. *** Nick landed easily in Runnymeade park, careful to make certain that his arrival wasn't witnessed by mortal or vampire. He stalked toward the theater, his hand tucked in his coat pocket to assure himself that the bag of blood he'd picked up at the loft on the way over was still safe and secure. He'd popped it into the microwave for a few seconds to warm it to what he hoped would be a palatable temperature. He paused on the curb at Ryding Avenue, waited for the few cars to pass in either direction, then crossed the street. The wind was rising from the east instead of the west, and he found the smells from the Ontario stockyards both sickening and enticing. It was animal blood, but blood all the same. Sandler had known what he was doing when he'd chosen this site for his meetings. Even without the assistance of the wind, the vampires would react unconsciously to the faintest scent of blood. Sandler was bright enough to make that instinctual urge work for him. Nick, on the other hand, was hoping to turn the tables on Sandler. LaCroix was waiting not far from the theater, in the parking lot behind the building. He stepped out of the shadows, a frown already forming as Nick hurried toward him. "I see that Dr. Lambert failed in her mission." "She failed in mission," corrected Nick, passing LaCroix without a second glance. "Nat understands why I have to do this my way." "Having fallen victim to your persuasive charm, no doubt." Nick kept walking. Sandler and his bullies weren't that far ahead, gathering by the stage door so that Sandler could make his 'entrance' at the perfect moment. Whatever Sandler might be, he a perfect showman--the perfect melding of charismatic arrogance with an intuitive understanding of how to manipulate an audience. Nick was aware of LaCroix shadowing him, not too close, but not too far away. LaCroix would keep his word and not interfere...or at least Nick hoped so. If things got desperate and LaCroix had to pull him out of this, Sandler would be destroyed, but so would Nick's reputation. He'd be a laughingstock among the Community. Sandler was laughing, joking with his bully-boys. They made no notice of Nick as he approached, seemed not to acknowledge his existence. Nick stopped a hundred yards from where Sandler and his friends were waiting. Tucking his hands in his coat pockets, he stood there and waited, placing himself between Sandler and the back stage entrance to the theater. Sandler seemed not to have noticed at first--the joking went on for several minutes. It faded away as if by common agreement, leaving only silence in the darkened, near-empty alley between the theater and the parking lot beyond. His friends stepped aside and he walked toward Nick, the others hanging back. "You look like you've healed up since the last time I saw you," said Sandler. His long black coat flapped lightly in the wind, and he pounded one fist lightly against his other palm, the aura of his arrogance reaching even to where Nick was standing. Intimidation, that was the name of this game. Nick managed a cold smile. "I've had worse." "I'll bet you have. You've been around the yard once or two, Mr. Nick. I'm hoping that my boys managed to knock some sense into your head. I'd rather you walk this road with me than be trod underfoot. It's gonna be a new world here. I could use a few lads who know their way around the old one." It was pointless, an act, a party piece. Both of them knew that Nick wasn't going to switch sides, not now. It amused him to think of what would happen if he pretend to go along, that he'd given up the cause of humanity for the sweet temptations offered by a world where vampires could hunt openly and at will. "I'm afraid that's not possible," he answered. Sandler smiled, nodding. "At least you're an honest man, Mr. Nick. I can respect that. And because I respect that, I'll give you a warning." Pointing toward the door behind Nick, he added, "I'm gonna be going through that door in a few minutes. That's not in dispute. The question is, will you step aside and let me be on my way...or will I have to go through you?" Remaining silent, Nick stood still, the smile frozen on his lips. That obviously wasn't the answer Sandler wanted. He took another step forward, his expression annoyed. "C'mon, Mr. Nick--surely you'll be seein' what a waste of time this is? Unlike you, I in spillin' blood." Sandler held his hand high in the air and let out a whistle. One of his boys threw him a stake, which he plucked out of the air --it was as if he'd drawn it to him by sheer power of will. "I'm thinkin' that we should be spillin' mortal blood again. If that means spillin' the blood of the odd vampire on the way, well, that's the price to be paid. Even you have to admit, Mr. Nick, that you're odder than most." "Killing one of your own kind doesn't bother you does it, Sandler--?" There was a slight shifting among the bully-boys, signaling their unease. Sensing that Nick had scored a point, Sandler straightened his spine and lifted his chin defiantly. "But we're , aren't we? That's the nature of the beast. We kill, Mr. Nick, whether or not it injures your fine sensibilities. We ." "We kill only to survive," corrected Nick. "We kill to protect ourselves, but now there other ways to protect ourselves. We kill to feed, but there are other choices, other methods--" "Aye, like drinkin' ?" The bully-boys laughed. Emboldened by the sound, Sandler took another step closer. "Is that your beverage of choice now, Mr. Nick? I smelled the stink of it, but I thought it was comin' off the stockyards." He stepped even closer...they were less than a yard apart. "What kind of a sorry excuse for a vampire are you, Mr. Nick, to be drinkin' cow when you could be sippin' the sweet mortal nectar of life itself? Do you even remember what it tastes like?" Sandler tossed the stake from hand to hand. "It's fine, Mr. Nick. It's the finest thing on God's earth and anywhere else. Don't be tellin' me you want to deny that to me, Mr. Nick. Not me and me lads, or the ones who follow me. 'Cause we won't be standing for it." "I remember," said Nick, his voice low and thick. He pulled the bag of blood from his pocket--it was still warm, although he was sorry not to be able to leech any more of the warmth from it than he already had. Holding it aloft, he said, "Here it is. This is what you're talking about, Sandler. No, you don't have to kill to get it. Killing's the bonus; killing's the part of the job." Nick stared at Sandler, both their eyes gold. He could sense the rough breaths of the other vampires as he tossed the bag of human blood from hand to hand, much as Sandler had tossed the stake. "Do remember, Sandler? Do you remember what it was to be mortal, warm flesh and a beating heart?" Nick walked past Sandler and addressed his thugs, who were shifting uneasily again. "None of you is more than a century old, most less than two or three decades. You still have links to the mortal world, sisters or brothers or parents or nieces and nephews, children perhaps, who are still alive, still mortal. Imagine them. of them." With a smirk, Nick inclined his head toward Sandler. "Now think of what they'd look like as grabs them and buries his fangs in their necks. Can you hear the screams? Can you feel their pain? Can you imagine that slow fall into darkness as he leeches their lives from them? And he --from your mothers, your sisters, your daughters, your sons. Say, 'They'll die anyway, they're mortals,' but there are a million ways to die, and dying at hands isn't the choice I'd make for any of my loved ones. But then, they mean nothing to you anymore. They're only mortals." Returning to stand between Sandler and the theater, Nick stared into his adversary's eyes. "That's what you're following--not a leader, but a butcher, a killer who enjoys the act of killing. He wants you to think that we're better, that we're " Nick's laugh was harsh. "Why, because we can kill? The urge to hunt isn't part of our nature because we're vampires; it's part of our nature because we were human. Mortals can kill, but most of them can also control that urge, harness it, ignore it. Is Sandler saying that we can't? That we're weaker than mortals? That we can't control our own beasts?" He was gaining ground. Nick could hear the muttered comments, see the unease as the thugs shifted from foot to foot. Sandler's eyes were blazing. "I should have killed you when I had the chance," he said softly. "You're right," Nick answered. "It's too late, now." "I'd be beggin' to differ with you on that point, Mr. Nick." With a roar, Sandler raised the stake and rushed forward. Nick side stepped but held the bag of blood out defensively as Sandler ran past. The stake pierced the plastic of the bag, and Sandler found himself sprayed with the contents--warm, human blood. When he turned, his eyes were red and glowing--the smell, the taste, the touch of the blood had stirred the beast within him beyond sane action. Sandler rushed at Nick again, catching him with a tackle to the midsection. Landing on his back, Nick flipped up with his legs and let Sandler's momentum carry him over Nick's head. He didn't know how much experience Sandler had as a mortal warrior or how often he'd fought since then, but Nick knew he had two advantages on his own side--centuries of bloody battles, and an ability to deny the bloodlust, to force it down and hide it within himself. Sandler was still too young to have learned that particular talent...or he'd never bothered to try. Nick's eyes remained gold even as Sandler regained his feet and rushed madly at him. Nick knew enough to wait until the last possible second, then side stepped again, lifting Sandler by the arm and throwing him hard against the theater wall. Sandler's left arm hung limply at his side, but he still brandished the stake with his right. Using it as club, he got in quickly and close enough to batter Nick hard across the face with the flat of the wood, then he slammed the side of the stake down on Nick's shoulder. Drinking human blood, human blood, had made a difference--on the level of strength, Sandler was almost unstoppable. Nick fell to his knees, taken down by the dual blows, then threw himself to the ground and used his momentum to knock Sandler down as well. The stake clattered away. Nick had been afraid that Sandler's buddies might intervene, but the majority of them hung back. When the stake fell, he looked up and saw one of them move forward, but then LaCroix appeared as if by magic. He made no sound nor threat, simply stood to one side with his arms folded across his chest. That proved to be enough of a deterrent. The berserker bloodlust that had taken hold of Sandler couldn't last forever, nor could Nick; he felt himself wearying. Cow blood was no match for human blood, especially in a pitched battle. He couldn't outrun Sandler nor outlast him, but he could possibly outwit him. And he did. Sandler continued to rush at Nick, and Nick avoided him, grabbing his arm and tossing him into the wall over and over. Bones broke, began to heal, and broke again. Nick thought he heard the snapping sounds at least twice, but he was certain only the second time; as Sandler attempted to climb back to his feet, his right leg gave out beneath him. Pouncing, Nick landed on Sandler's back, pinning him to the ground. There was a whistle from the thugs, and almost instinctively, Nick raised his hand in the air, the stake landing flat side against his palm. Nick raised the stake aloft, holding it high, knowing that a downward motion would send the stake through Sandler's heart and imbed it into the ground. A vampire as young as Sandler would never survive. Nick bowed his head and concentrated, forcing himself to ignore the human blood with which he and Sandler were spattered. He couldn't let the beast win. When he opened his eyes, the tint of gold was gone from his view of the world. Lowering the stake, Nick stared at it a moment as if memorizing what it looked like...then he tossed it away. He staggered off Sandler, took a few breaths until he was certain that he was steady on his feet, then bent down and grabbed the back of Sandler's coat. It didn't take much effort to throw Sandler through the air so that he landed at the feet of his friends, but it took enough. Nick was just as happy to stumble to the small steps beside the theater door. Leaning on the railing, he closed his eyes and tried to summon up what little strength remained to him. He barely turned his head when he heard Sandler's voice, weakened, but manic, almost to the point of insanity. "Kill him!" he ordered. "Kill the bastard! Damn you! Look what he did to me! To ! Kill him!" Nick knew he didn't have enough fight in him to take on even the weakest of Sandler's thugs. But they didn't have to know that. Straightening at the rail, he clenched one fist and stared at them. They stared back, but less in defiance than in disinterest. One by one, they turned their backs and walked away or took to the air, even as Sandler screamed abuse at them. There was a bad moment--one of the thugs walked toward Nick. He stopped about ten yards away, face impassive. Then he shrugged, gesturing toward the theater door, and said, "Someone...someone should tell them all to go home." "Someone ," agreed Nick. With a wry smile, he stepped to one side and gestured toward the stairway, as if giving the vampire free passage. The vampire scuttled past Nick as if he were afraid he might be struck, darting inside so quickly that the door closed behind him, sucked in by the gust of wind generated by the speed of his movement. Only Sandler and Nick and LaCroix remained. Fighting his way to his knees and then to a standing position, Sandler favored his leg. "It's not over," he told Nick, glaring. "Ah, Mr. Ian, that's where I think you're wrong," said Nick, duplicating Sandler's accent perfectly. He moved closer and grabbed Sandler's shirt front, nearly lifting him off his feet, and pointed to the west. "Go. And keep an eye on your back, because if I ever see you again, if I ever hear your name again, I'll be hunting you down. Because, Mr. Ian, I won't be standing for it." As Nick released him, Sandler seemed to fold in upon himself, toppling to the ground. Quickly scrambling to his feet again, he cast a last hatred-filled look over his shoulder, then limped away as fast as he could. "You should have destroyed him," said LaCroix. "Mortal enemies are one thing, Nicholas, but a vampire's hatred is eternal." "He won't be a danger to anyone. Not after his friend tells everyone inside what happened out here." Grinning, Nick leaned heavily against the railing, then decided that he'd be more comfortable sitting on the steps. "You know how it goes--by dawn, most of the Community will know not to mention Ian Sandler again." "That's not what I mean." "I what you mean." His grin fading, Nick stared up at LaCroix. "I couldn't kill him." "You wanted to." Leaning forward, LaCroix tapped Nick lightly on the chest, just at the point of his heart. "Right here. Don't tell me you didn't feel it." Wincing, Nick nodded and looked away. "I felt it." He shifted his shoulder and worked the joint in the socket, still sore. "But I wasn't about to give in. Something you said once; a vampire without self-control is a predator destined to become prey." "That explains how you managed to beat Sandler," said LaCroix. "But not why you refused to kill him. Sandler was right about that--the nature of our beast is a killer." Smiling, Nick lowered his head. He stared down at the ground a second, then looked back up at LaCroix. "Maybe...maybe it's not so much the nature of the beast, but the measure of the man within." Nick thought he saw a smile play around the corner of LaCroix's lips for a moment, the eyes for once filled with understanding and even, perhaps, pride. "Only so long as the man's measure doesn't get the both of them killed." (to be continued ...) -------------------------------------------- For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@fkfanfic.com. Date: Fri, 11 Apr 1997 21:56:47 -0400 Reply-To: Virtual Fourth Season Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Virtual Fourth Season Subject: V4S: The Nature of the Beast -- Part 2 (12/12) To: FKFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU Episode Number: Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season - Episode #10 Episode Title: "The Nature of the Beast -- Part 2" "Air" Date: April 3, 1997 Author: Susan M. Garrett Part 12 of 12 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 1997 Susan M. Garrett -------------------------- THE NATURE OF THE BEAST Natalie walked from the station parking lot to the front door of the ninety-sixth precinct, barely aware of her surroundings. She'd heard that they'd caught Nalvayko, a hostage situation had been averted, and Adam Sakai was being treated like the hero of the hour and deservedly so. A phone call to the precinct had yielded the information that Nick had picked up Winkler for questioning, then had been seen at the hostage scene...but that they'd lost track of him. The consensus was that he'd backed off to give his partner center stage. Natalie knew differently. She'd run samples, made test comparisons, reviewed the forensics reports...and she'd worried. When Nick had called from the loft, she'd been terrified and angry, and maybe even surprised. He'd actually to call and tell her that he was okay and that disaster had been averted. That's why she was smiling when she nearly collided with LaCroix. Her immediate apology for her clumsiness never even made it past the automatic response stage. Natalie took a step back and stared at him, her smile fading. LaCroix was absolutely the thing she wanted to deal with right now. Or...maybe not. Not a hair out of place, LaCroix smiled indulgently. "Dr. Lambert. Now what could it be that has you so preoccupied on such a glorious evening?" "Nick called me." Her smile sneaked back into place, although she was disappointed that the news didn't elicit even a glimmer of annoyance from LaCroix. "He won. He won the blood. You lost this round." "It's hardly a ," said LaCroix. He leaned back against the railing of the steps leading into the precinct, staring off into the distance, with a smile that could only be described as self-satisfied. "I still have hopes that Nicholas can learn to accept his true nature. The Community is now free of the charismatic Mr. Sandler and his radical philosophy. And you...." Natalie folded her arms and met LaCroix's amused gaze defiantly. "What about ?" "Only that you and Nicholas seem to be of a like mind again." Sobering, LaCroix suddenly seemed sincere. "Whatever may have been between us in the past, you should understand that I have no objection to the thought of you and Nicholas becoming...closer. That's something I should very like to see happen." For some reason, LaCroix's words sent a chill through her. She knew full well that LaCroix's actions always served his own purposes; Nick's warning not to trust LaCroix added a sinister cast to the comment. It wasn't a threat. Not really. Was it? Clearing her throat, Natalie forced herself to meet his gaze again--the amusement was back. He knew he'd rattled her. "I don't agree." "You don't--?" "About Nick having to accept what he is," she explained, when LaCroix raised an eyebrow in consternation. "At least, not the killing. It's the killer that won't let him find peace." "Ah, but that's because he treats that part of his nature as alien, as something he can excise with good works and pleasant thoughts, isn't that so?" His smile gained a bitter edge. "The killer is as much a part of Nicholas' mortal self as it is part of his vampire self. Everyone, vampire mortal alike--must come to terms with that part of their nature to attain a sense of peace. It must be accepted, understood, controlled--" LaCroix touched the tip of her chin with his finger, "--even...cherished. You understand that, don't you Dr. Lambert? You've had good cause to contemplate the nature of the killer within, in the recent past." His eyes were hypnotic, his words intoxicating...and truthful. Natalie shivered and stared, wondering what other truths LaCroix's words might hold. Then, shaking herself free, she looked away. She couldn't trust him. She she couldn't trust him, and yet there was so much he could tell her about what had happened to her, what was to her.... It took a moment before she could look at him again, and she found LaCroix watching her, studying her expression. He glanced up at the sky, as if he'd found what he was looking for. "It's a beautiful night for hunting, don't you agree?" She followed his gaze up to the sky. It was a clear night, with plenty of stars visible despite the city lights. Turning her head, she opened her mouth to ask LaCroix a question...but he was gone. With a weary sigh, Natalie grabbed the handrail and headed up the steps into the precinct. She wondered if her life had ever made sense before she'd discovered the existence of vampires. And then she wondered if her life would ever make sense again if, for some reason, she ever chose to walk away from that discovery. She'd barely stepped into the bullpen when she heard Reese's voice coming from his office--the door was open. Wincing at the dressing down, she sneaked closer to see who was on the receiving end. Adam Sakai stood stoically in front of Reese's desk, his hands behind his back. Nick was leaning nonchalantly in at the doorway. Seeing her, he gestured a greeting and smiled, then turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "No officer in this precinct is to turn off his radio his cell phone without calling in first and notifying the desk sergeant of his location and that he's going to be incommunicado. Do I make myself clear?" Adam never moved a muscle, his "Yes, Captain," still containing the smallest air of defiance. "You know, Captain," said Nick, stepping into the room and standing beside Adam, "it happens to me all the time. They put the power button on the radio right next to the call button--same thing with the cell phone; close it too hard and it shuts itself off. Here--" Before Reese could say anything, Nick pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Opening it, he showed both Reese and Adam that it was on and moved as if to close it. Somehow, Natalie caught a flicker of movement as Nick turned off the button faster than either man could see, then flipped the phone closed. Nick handed the phone to Reese and shrugged as Reese opened it--the power button was off. Reese turned on the phone, flipped it closed, opened it again...and it stayed on. "Must be some sort of design flaw," he muttered beneath his breath. "Damn low-bid purchasing system." Nick threw Natalie a smile over Reese's head, then was suddenly serious as Reese returned the phone to him. "I'll see what I can do about that. I want you people in contact at all times. Understood?" "Yes, Captain," said Nick and Adam, their answers barely a mortal heartbeat apart. "Good. That's what partners are to sound like." Reese pushed back his chair and walked over to the coat rack. "If you boys don't need me for a while--I've gotta meet with the Crown Attorney. He wants to go after Winkler for obstruction of justice. Can't say that I blame him." On his way out of the office, he paused and faced Adam, then nodded. "That was good work today, down at the sporting goods store. I think we can consider you off probation after a couple of more like that." Natalie stepped aside as the Captain passed her on his way out. He nodded and tipped his hat to her as he placed it on his head. "Doctor." "Captain." She settled herself on the edge of Nick's desk and waited for them to come to her. Nick was grinning like a Cheshire Cat, but Adam was still baffled--he knew the Captain had been had, but it was obvious that he wasn't certain how Nick had done it. "A couple more like and I'll be ready for the funny farm," said Adam. Pulling out his chair, he dropped into it wearily. "Oh, hi, Natalie. Thanks for your help." " help?" She glanced over at Nick, smiling. "Better watch it, Nick, this boy's coming up pretty fast on the outside. Your reputation as the precinct's golden boy is starting to crumble." "He probably earned it 'solving' cases the way this one went, relying on work," corrected Adam. "I would never have guessed it was Nalvayko--not until we were hip- deep in the middle of a major hostage situation." Glancing over at his computer, Adam tapped a few keys. "The captain said he wanted me to knock off early--I've got too much overtime in already this week." "Get some sleep," she offered, after a pause. "You deserve it, after all this." "I plan to. But first--I've got a late supper set with Kelly and I don't want to be late." Rising from his chair, Adam walked over to the coat rack by their desks and removed his jacket from the hook. "I'm going to tell her that I'll go to the lodge with her, but I'm not picking up a gun, and I'm not about to stand there and watch her shoot any kind of animal. Either we'll come to a compromise, or we won't, but I'm not going to go on lying to her." He met Natalie's eyes and smiled wearily. "Think she'll throw me out?" "Not if she's got any sense," said Natalie approvingly. "Guys who'll pick up a gun and shoot a deer are a dime a dozen, but a guy who'll tell you the truth? Adam, that makes you an endangered species." "That's a good possibility, especially if she forgets to put the cat out before I get over there." Shrugging into his coat, he glanced over at Nick. "Heard you were having car problems. You need a lift home?" Natalie turned quickly. Before Nick could answer, she said, "Nick, why don't I take you? It's on my way. Adam's heading to Kelly's place, and you wouldn't want to make him late...for dinner." Giving her a glance, Nick nodded, then rose to his feet. "Thanks, Adam, but Nat's right--it's out of your way. As long as she's swinging by my place--?" Natalie hung back as they headed out of the station together. When they parted company at the bottom of the steps, she paused to grab Adam's arm and give it a squeeze. "Good luck," she said softly. "Thanks. Let's hope I don't need it." "You won't." Natalie stood there a moment, watching Adam walk away. Nick leaned closer to her. "You like him." "Yeah." She nodded, then glanced over at him. "My car's this way. Yeah--he's a good kid." "A kid?" Nick stopped in astonishment as she walked past and then hurried to catch up with her. "Nat, he's barely a couple of years younger than you are!" "Well...boys mature more slowly than girls." "Is that so?" teased Nick. "Yep. It's a scientific fact." They were walking side-by-side. Fighting the urge to take his arm, she glanced over at Nick and found that he was watching her, smiling. "I'm glad he's your partner." "Me, too." They passed from the sidewalk onto the tar-covered parking lot. His arm slipped beneath hers, and Nick took her hand. Natalie felt her heart skip a beat and chided her body to stop that sort of thing--Nick would hear. "You don't look banged up," she noted. "Hmnnn?" "Your fight. I expected at a black eye." "It's amazing what a couple of bottles of blood can do-- blood," he added quickly when she glanced at him. "You should have seen me an hour ago." "I'm sorry I didn't." Stopping, Natalie held onto Nick's hand, forcing him to pause. "Listen, I'm sorry about dropping off the blood at your place. I shouldn't have listened to LaCroix--" Nick squeezed her hand. "It's . You couldn't have known." With a guilty tilt of his head, he admitted, "Even I wasn't sure I was going to pull this one off." Releasing his hand, Natalie backed up a step. "But that's the problem, I don't know. I never know...because you won't tell me. I'm a part of this. I to be a part of this. I want to understand. But unless you tell me --" "I've been trying to protect you." Bowing his head, Nick started walking toward her car. "But I can't, can I? Everything I've done to protect you has backfired, hurt you. I don't want to hurt you, Nat. I've never wanted to hurt you. I'm tired of hurting you." Once they reached the car, he confounded her further by stepping forward, clasping her elbows, and holding her at arm's length. Nick nodded, as if he found that a safe distance, then he asked, in a low tone, "What do you want to know?" Natalie was so startled, she couldn't answer. Her mouth opened, closed and opened again. Her heart screamed, "Everything!" but practicality won out. Meeting his eyes, she swallowed. "Tell me about...hunting." There was a sadness in his eyes, and somehow she realized that it was in reaction to her words. But it was too late to call them back; what was said had been said. His grip tightened on her arms for a moment, then Nick nodded, implying his agreement. He seemed older, more tired, as he walked to the driver's side of the car and opened the door for her. Natalie slipped behind the wheel, her senses still somewhat dulled by the admitted change in Nick's attitude. She watched him walk around the front of the car to the passenger side and realized that she was eager to get back to the loft to hear what he might say. She had many questions. But the sadness she'd seen in his eyes haunted her. Maybe, she decided, that one question was enough for now. She felt like a person who'd been dying of thirst who'd finally stumbled into an oasis and wasn't at all certain that the water before her was real. It might be water, or a mirage...or poison. Her enthusiasm, however, was building despite her reservations. Glancing up at the dark sky through the windshield, she actually found herself agreeing with LaCroix. It a beautiful night. -------------------------------------------- Author's Notes: I'd like to thank everyone involved in putting this together and winnowing it out. If there's any praise to be handed about this thing, it goes to them for working as hard as they have and for seeing it through to the bitter end. -------------------------------------------- For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@fkfanfic.com.