From V4S@CYBERVANGUARD.COMMon Nov 4 07:42:54 1996 Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1996 20:32:20 -0500 From: Virtual Fourth Season To: Multiple recipients of list FKFIC-L Subject: V4S: Resurrection (16/19) Episode Number: Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season - Episode #1 Episode Title: "Resurrection" Author: Susan M. Garrett Part 16 of 19 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 1996 Susan M. Garrett -------------------------- *** It was at least ten blocks from the warehouse to Nick's loft and Natalie tried to keep her pace to a brisk walk. She'd had little enough time in the hospital to rest after her near-brush with death. Every so often she'd find herself leaning on LaCroix's arm--then angrily push him away. "It would be faster if we flew," he suggested at one point. "Fly then. I'll meet you there." Glaring at him, she'd picked up the pace, the soles of her sandals slapping against the concrete. Of course, he matched it easily. There was at least one point where she was certain that she saw someone lurking in the shadows . . . who drew back quickly when LaCroix appeared beside her. He was proving to be an efficient bodyguard--she'd have to thank him for that. The sight of the small park around the corner from Nick's loft gave her a renewed burst of energy, but she stopped there, near a tree. LaCroix joined her and they both looked up at the windows--the shades were open and the lights were on. "Wait--a--minute." Natalie turned and saw the underside of a stone bridge not too far away. "This place-- I think we had--an unsolved near here." Her breath was coming in gasps. It took an effort on her part not to sink down into the well-trimmed grass and rest. LaCroix stood a few steps away. Staring at the lighted windows of the loft, he seemed to have forgotten her presence. "Is Nick there?" asked Natalie softly. She pushed herself away from the trunk of a tree and stood beside him. "Is he . . . ?" "He's there. And there's someone with him. A mortal." "A mortal?" Natalie stared up at the windows, listening, trying to recapture some of what she'd felt before at the warehouse, a sense of Nick's presence. Nothing. Then she realized that LaCroix was watching her and she blushed, looking away. "There are more surprises in store for you, Dr. Lambert," said LaCroix softly. "Be patient. In time--" "Time is something we don't have. I've got to get up there." She started across the grass, back toward the sidewalk and across the street and didn't bother looking up when she realized that LaCroix was in front of her, already standing in front of the elevator entrance. "Show off," she muttered, then reached past him to tap in the security keycode. "I'll accompany you." "You'll stay here." It was by accident that she happened to look at him and caught a brief flicker of surprise at her defiance, which quickly disappeared beneath a faintly disapproving mask. "You said it yourself, Nicholas is hungry. The mortal with him might prove sufficient for his needs, or--" "He won't hurt me," she repeated. "And if I can get up there quickly enough, I may be able to save what's left of his sanity. I can't let him kill again." She expected an argument, but it was her turn to be surprised--LaCroix merely stepped back into the shadows, disappearing into the darkness like the Cheshire cat, only the glow of his eyes lingering. "It's your neck, doctor." The elevator bumped into place and Natalie reached for the door automatically, then paused and looked back over her shoulder. Janette had said the same thing to her a few years before, when Nick had gone on a bender down at the Raven. He'd been so far gone that reason, even an appeal to friendship had failed to get through to him. He'd headed off to find Monica, the woman he'd felt had betrayed him. He'd planned to kill her, as he'd put it, 'to show her what back-sliding was.' But something had shaken him out of it--the sight of Monica kneeling over a body. He'd gone from thinking like a vampire to thinking like a cop. "Thanks," she whispered in the general direction of the shadows. "That might help." The ride up in the elevator had never seemed this long. Natalie leaned her head against the door and felt the vibrations of the machinery run through her. She didn't pray anymore, hadn't since she was a child. God didn't seem to dwell in her world of chromosomes and electron microscopes and autopsies. But she knew that Nick believed. On Nick's behalf, she prayed that he'd be all right, that she could stop him from doing anything that he'd regret. The elevator slowed, lifted slightly, then settled back down into place. Grabbing the indentation in the door with both hands, Natalie used most of the last of her strength to push it aside . . . and only managed in overcompensating. The booming sound of the elevator door flying into its socket and then slamming against the wall echoed throughout the loft and she found herself stumbling out like a mime doing a bad balancing routine. But then she'd straightened and looked up. It was like being at the hospital again, a barrage of memories assailing her without warning. 'Faith.' Nick's mouth on her wrist. His lips touching her own. 'Forever.' The pain of the bite--sharp, searing pain. And then . . . ecstasy. And pain. And warmth. And passion. Memories of his past, his loves, loving her, how much he loved her and-- and--and-- Alone. Cold and alone. Cold. Alone. Darkness. Alone. She turned her head, opening her eyes, and saw the window, the piano beside it. There was a man standing near the couch--she didn't recognize him. And Nick-- Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. She'd seen the danger signs often enough to recognize then-- the stiffness of his posture, the golden tint from his eyes as he averted his gaze. The vampire was closer to the surface than she'd ever seen it before. Then he saw her. Disbelief and his brow furrowing, as if he couldn't believe it was her, the gold disappearing into frightened blue, terrified . . . he was terrified. "Nat?" "Nick?" her voice broke, cracked, and she started toward him. He met her halfway, sweeping her into his embrace, his arms surrounding her and holding her tightly, as if he were trying to convince himself that she wasn't a ghost or an illusion. Her feet left the floor as he lifted her in a hug and she threw her arms around his neck. Something inside her whispered, 'don't-let-go--don't-let-go- -don't-let-go,' but whether the plea was for her or for him she couldn't be certain. His lips touched her forehead, her cheek, her forehead again . . . and then met her own. It was a fierce kiss--doubtful, unbelieving, grateful, passionate. But when her eyes closed, she heard another voice in the back of her mind, Nick's voice, Nick's words with cold, informal certitude. 'I do not love this woman.' And then, softer, sadder-- 'I can't condemn her to this darkness.' Gasping, Natalie dropped her hands from his neck and planted her palms against his chest, pushing back from him. His lips were pressed to her hair, her cheek, her neck-- From somewhere deep inside, she found the strength to break his hold on her, pushing him back so hard and so unexpectedly that Nick nearly stumbled, his shoulder colliding with the door of the elevator as he righted himself. His hand moved to his shoulder and he stared at her, mouth open, blue eyes tinted with gold. Natalie turned away, unable to endure the look of betrayal in those eyes, her thoughts jumbled and confused. But when she turned, she found herself faced by a stranger. He was Asian and young by her standards, a buzz cut from the neck to the ears, dark hair and brown eyes, taller than she was. He stepped toward her, his manner hesitant, and he extended his hand. "I guess you must be . . . Dr. Lambert? I'm Adam Sakai, Metro Homicide. I'm Nick's new partner." She must have stared for a moment, because one hand reached inside his jacket and he said helplessly, "I've got ID--" A chill ran through her and she glanced over her shoulder at Nick, who met her eyes for the briefest second before turning his head against his shoulder. He'd been on the verge of killing his new partner? Had he known? Had it even mattered to him? "ID won't be necessary," said Natalie, trying to summon up something near normalcy. She stepped closer to Sakai and shook his hand. "It's good to meet you. I hope there wasn't any problem or--" She nodded her head in Nick's direction and added quietly, "He's not himself. With Tracy's death." "Yeah. Yeah, I understand. I think he's also had one too many." Sakai glanced over his shoulder and Natalie followed his gaze toward the end table, starting when she realized what type of red liquid those innocuous green bottles contained. "Maybe this isn't the best time to become acquainted," offered Natalie. Taking Sakai's arm, she walked him over to the side door, in the kitchen. "Aren't you supposed to be at Mercy Hospital?" he asked suddenly, removing her arm from his and turning toward her. Nat ducked her head; her embarrassed smile wasn't all pretend. "I sort of snuck out the back. I hate hospitals. And I'm fine. Can't afford to take any time off--people just keep dying, y'know." "Boy, do I." Sakai glanced over her shoulder, then back at her. "Funny you should say that. I need to get your statement, about the attack? I called the lab and they said you'd quit, that you'd walked off the job last night." Natalie swallowed and looked down at the floor. "Yeah, well, a lot can change in twenty-four hours." She finally managed to gather enough nerve to look up at him--God, she wished she was a better liar! "There's not much to tell. I gave everything I remembered to Captain Reese earlier. But if you wanna set up something a little more formal, I can take the time tomorrow night. Just give me a call." "I'd appreciate it. Paperwork. You know?" With a sigh, Sakai looked down and kicked at the floor. "I just dropped by to see if Nick was okay. Reese was going nuts and Internal Affairs has been crawling over everything. Not to mention Commissioner Vetter dropping by for a personal visit." Natalie held her breath for a moment and managed a wan smile. "It's a rough time. Maybe you should tell the Captain--" Nick's hand on her shoulder startled her, a light touch. For a moment, she couldn't breathe and she was certain that her heart skipped a beat. Almost immediately, the hand was gone, as he said, "I'll call the Captain. And I'll drop in to take care of everything." Sakai raised his head slightly, a questioning look. "Tomorrow?" "Tomorrow night. I'm night shift." " night shift," corrected Sakai. He nodded, then opened the door to the stairs. "Sakai?" He turned at Nick's call, meeting Natalie's gaze briefly. "The keys?" "Oh. Yeah." Reaching into his pocket, Sakai withdrew the keys, then tossed them to Nick. Natalie heard the jingling of the keys as Nick caught them, snatching them from the air before they could sail by. "Thanks." "Hey, they're your keys." He nodded toward her. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Lambert. See you tomorrow night. I'll call." "See you then." Sakai gave Nick a half-raised palm as a wave. "So long, partner." She saw Nick's hand raise in farewell and turned away before the door closed, the soft sound echoing in her ears. Taking a deep breath, Natalie walked across the room, her fingers intertwined. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, her mouth was dry, her palms were sweating. She wasn't afraid. She couldn't be afraid. After all, she was only alone with Nick . . . . She was alone with Nick. -------------------------------------------- For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@cybervanguard.com. From V4S@CYBERVANGUARD.COMMon Nov 4 07:43:00 1996 Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1996 20:32:26 -0500 From: Virtual Fourth Season To: Multiple recipients of list FKFIC-L Subject: V4S: Resurrection (17/19) Episode Number: Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season - Episode #1 Episode Title: "Resurrection" Author: Susan M. Garrett Part 17 of 19 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 1996 Susan M. Garrett -------------------------- *** For a long moment, he stared down at the keys in his hand, recognizing the small plastic tag on the keychain. Over two years ago, he'd given them to Schanke--who'd promptly lost them somewhere in the station. They'd searched their desks--Schanke's desk alone had taken them hours--their cars, their homes . . . no sign of the keys. He'd ridden Schanke about it until he'd offered to pay for changing the locks. Then he'd let the matter drop. They were only keys, after all. The garage door, the back stairs in through the kitchen, the spare key for the Caddie. Only keys. To a vampire, security was everything. They were weaker by day, vulnerable. He'd given his keys to Schanke: access to his life, his secrets, his security. He'd given his trust to his partner. Only keys. "You going into work tomorrow, aren't you?" asked Natalie. "With Internal Affairs--" The keys. He'd given Schanke such hell about them, a lousy set of keys, just in case . . . in case something happened to him. In case he disappeared. Just . . . in case. Tracy hadn't even been his partner long enough for him to about giving her a set of keys. "I have to drop off my shield and my gun." Nick walked to the table behind the couch, open the small wooden box, and dropped the keys into it. He placed his hand over the lid, as if holding it shut, and stared down at it. "I have to resign. There's no other way to end this. It'll be clean, no loose ends. Internal Affairs will be happy. Case closed." "Where will you go?" There was no anger in her tone, only . . . acceptance. And that disturbed him even more. She was standing by the wide-screen television staring at the wall. He drew a breath, wondering how she could be alive. She was alive. Natalie was alive. And he'd almost bitten her again, at the door. Joy had flooded through him at the sight of her. Once he had her in his arms, smelled the remnants of shampoo in her hair, felt her warmth--the brilliant heat of her!--the softness of her skin, her lips . . . and the hunger had surged inside him, the vampire had charged to the fore. Before he realized what he was doing, before he knew that the world had gone gold and his fangs had fallen into place, he'd begun to taste the skin of her neck. The vampire was in control. But Natalie had pushed him away--literally. She'd saved herself. And what little bit remained of his soul. "Do you even know?" she asked, half-turning toward him. She wouldn't look at him, wouldn't meet his eyes. But he deserved that, didn't he? Sakai had said she'd been in the hospital. Maybe he hadn't taken as much as he'd thought, maybe he hadn't nearly killed her . . . . "No. I . . . don't know." "With LaCroix." "No." That time, she look at him, but after a brief glance looked away. "No, not with LaCroix. He wants me to be . . . something I can't stand." He gave a short, harsh laugh. "It'll be like old times--I'll run and he'll follow. He'll catch up with me, destroy everything around me and then I'll run again. And again. And again." Nick wandered around the far end of the couch and ran his hand along the fireplace mantle, stopping to touch the snout of the dragon as he passed--he'd have to send for both of those. "Just like old times." "Then don't run. Stay. Break the cycle." He felt her eyes on him, watching him. They'd had this conversation before, at least seriously once before, when Schanke had died. It had been the need to catch the bomber that had kept him here, held him, the need to avenge the lives of his lost friends. "I can't. I've been ruining the lives of the people I care about most. LaCroix was right--I've stayed too long." "Maybe the problem is that you haven't stayed long enough." Natalie moved closer, just to one side of him. He could hear her heartbeat, smell her blood even through the skin. It made his teeth ache. But it was the tone of her voice that wounded him--as if she were arguing with him out of habit, out of duty. Something was missing. "If you want to be mortal," she continued, "you've got to take responsibility for your actions, hang around long enough to deal with the consequences. Handle the fallout for a change. Unless . . . do you even want to be mortal anymore?" He caught the note of pain in her voice and winced. "Nat--?" "Do you know what you want? What you want?" Nick stared down at the floor for a moment, then glanced up at her, catching her off guard. He saw the anguish in her, the uncertainty. There was nothing for him to do but to step forward and place his hands on her shoulders, lean in to kiss her forehead . . . . Natalie drew back, then turned to escape him. She stood with her back toward him and folded her arms again, staring out the window, into the darkness. "Yes," he answered quietly. "I know what I wanted, what I want. And now I've lost it, haven't I? Forever." Standing behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and felt her shiver. The vampire within him started at that, her fear bringing it out of dormancy like an enticing aroma, but he clamped down on it and concentrated on kneading her shoulders with his fingertips. The sweater was soft; he could feel it slide against the blouse beneath it and her skin beneath that. "You must hate me." "I--" She stopped herself and he felt her sigh beneath his hands, her chest moving with the slightest exhalation of breath. "I don't you. I--don't know." "I couldn't do it, Nat." Nick stepped closer and nuzzled her hair--he loved the smell of her hair. "I couldn't control it. I couldn't stop. I got lost in you. I couldn't stop." Not a sigh, but a deep breath this time. "It was a risk I was prepared to take. I knew-- knew it was a possibility." She turned her head, moving her hair away from him. Then she spun again and hit him hard, in the shoulder. He realized, with some shock that there were tears in her eyes. "But you , damnit! You promised you wouldn't let me die. You promised that you'd try to bring me across." He stepped back, battered by her anger and the truth she flung at him. "I took too much," he sputtered defensively. "There was nothing I could do." "'I can't condemn her to this darkness'? Does sound familiar?" When he took another step back, she followed. "You were going to let me die. After you'd promised to try to bring me across so that we could be together, you decided to let me die. decided." Nick looked away, at the ceiling or the windows or the fireplace or the walls. "You know what I am. But you don't know what it's like to be a killer, a murderer. To live with the weight of the guilt on your soul. I couldn't--" "But I'd asked you. You'd After I found you with Tracy--you were ready to bring her across and not me? Why me? Aren't I good enough?" She was almost shouting, but she walked away, to the other side of the couch. "What, did I flunk out on the 'you, too, can be a vampire' test? Is it the hair? Is it a blondes only club? No, wait a minute--Janette's not a blonde. Then again, maybe she dyes it. Richard--" He heard her turn around, heading back in his direction. "Richard wasn't a--" When he met her gaze, she bit back her words, then turned away again. She rubbed the side of her face against the sleeve of her sweater. "No," she said, a bit more in control of herself, although he could still hear the tears in her words. "No, that's not fair. I'm sorry. I shouldn't bring Richard into this." Nick leaned against the mantle of the fireplace and ran his hand along the dragon again. "Nat--" "No, it's all right. Just give me a minute." She gave a little hiccup. "After all, it isn't every day that a girl loses a best friend to suicide, a coworker to a crazed gunman, and then ends up nearly drained of every drop of blood in her body." That was followed by a small laugh. "Hell of a way to get jilted, isn't it? I guess with you, it's either a choice between death or eternity-- choice." He couldn't stand it any more; every word felt like a wooden sliver slipped beneath his skin. Nick walked over to her, turned her around, and took her in his arms. "I'm sorry. But I couldn't do as you asked. I couldn't." For an instant, he thought it was going to be all right. Her head rested on his shoulder and he could feel the dampness of her cheek against his skin. Then Natalie lifted her head and looked up at him, her hand pushing back at his chest and loosening his grip on her. "Then . . . I guess it's over between us. Or maybe, really, it wasn't there to begin with." "Over?" His heart beat once in his chest, while hers beat and beat and beat again against him. She was warm in his arms, all life and love and beauty. "Everything? Our friendship?" Natalie touched his cheek with her hand, then pushed away again, until his arms fell from around her. She walked over to the table beside the couch and picked up one of the bottles of blood. Sniffing at the open bottle, she turned to him and smiled wanly, tears still sparkling in her eyes. "It's cow. You know, I'm kinda glad. I thought for a minute it might be--" "No," he answered sharply. He walked to her, took the bottle from her carefully, then set it down on the table. "I've sworn off human blood. Completely. Not even in emergencies." "That couldn't hurt what we're doing. Because we still trying to make you mortal again, aren't we?" Nick stared across the room, some hope beginning to stir within his heart. "You just said--" "I just said that it's over between us. I trusted you, Nick, and you let me down. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to stop caring for you, that I'm just going to walk away. Although--" He heard her plop down in the leather chair beside the table. "I'm probably crazy. But I've gotta put my life back together. I'm mortal and I'm gonna stay mortal, so maybe I'd better start getting my mortal life back. Maybe that's what Laura was trying to tell me. I don't have the time you do. I don't have the time to waste." The hope twisted and shrank within him. "Then, perhaps I leave." "If you want to leave, I'm not going to try to keep you here. Like you said, it'll be just like before, with you running and LaCroix chasing and maybe I'll get a postcard from you from Istanbul some day." "It used to be Constantinople." "Whatever. It's the same old story. But if you stay, if you decide to dig in and face the music, I'll stand by you. I'm still going to help you with your cases--you and your new partner." He winced at that and she must have noticed, because she reached up to take his hand. But he still couldn't meet her eyes, not yet. "And . . . mortality?" "That, too, if that's what you want. I still think we can do it, with the right breaks. But it's not going to happen unless you want it to happen. And that's decision. I've already made mine." Nick dared a glance at her, then looked away again. Her blood had been like . . . he had no words to describe it. Life. Vitality. Spirit. The lights of Paris, fireworks in the sky, the laughter of children, the sun . . . the brilliance and heat and glory of a sun that warmed but didn't burn, that enervated but didn't destroy. Her life had been there, too. How much he regretted that now, that he hadn't had a chance to savor her life, her memories. LaCroix had knocked him unconscious and most of it was gone when he'd awakened. It was like remembering a postcard he'd seen from long ago--the flash of a photograph, a barely legible scrawl across a white background, the words not intelligible in and of themselves, but conveying a feeling. In that time, he'd known more about Natalie than he'd ever dreamed of knowing. For that one, brief moment, he'd understood everything about her, the combination of her joy and sadness, her loss and her accomplishments, her loneliness and her love . . . for him. Alyssa had loved him, he'd tasted her love of him, but with an innocence--she hadn't known what he was. Janette had loved him, in part because of what he was. But Natalie had loved him in spite of what he was. loved him. He'd broken all of their hearts in turn. But with Natalie, there was still a chance to make amends. Even if she refused him, he could still care for her. When she managed to make him mortal again, she might yet forgive him for what he'd done. Nick picked up the bottle of cow's blood. "I told you once that I didn't want to stand in the way of your happiness." "I remember." Placing the bottle back on the table, he sat down on the couch at an angle from her, then reached across to take her hand. "I meant it. And I mean it now. I to stay . . . ." Natalie squeezed her hand in his. "Then stay. But it's your decision." He could win her trust again. He he could. "Give me a couple of weeks to work my way back to the protein shakes?" "Deal." Her smile might have been a little forced, but it was still a smile. As she got to her feet, he rose with her, refusing to relinquish her hand as he walked her to the elevator door. "Do you need a lift home?" "No, my car's still here." She frowned for a moment, then shrugged. "And my bag's probably still in forensics. But I've got a spare key. I'll need you for bail, though, if they pick me up for driving without a license." "I'm only a phone call away." "Yeah. I guess so." There was a sadness in her eyes when she looked at him and he forced a smile, even though he'd suddenly began to understand the distance she'd put between them. "See you tomorrow?" "Um." Natalie put her hand on the door and slid it open, turning her back to him. Four years ago, he would have given her a pat on the back or squeezed her shoulder. Three years ago, it might have been a quick peck on the lips--no pressure, just friends, that's all. Two years ago, he might have kissed her forehead or her cheek, or even held her hand a moment longer than he should have, savoring the warmth. Had they parted like this three nights ago, his lips would have lingered on hers far too long than would have been safe for either of them. Now . . . Natalie turned and gave him a half-hearted wave. Then the door closed. His chest felt hollow and empty. Immediately, his gaze moved to the bottles sitting on the end table. He was standing there before he could even think, the bottle in his hand-- With great care, Nick picked up the second bottle and walked over to the refrigerator. He placed both bottles on the top shelf, then leaned his back against it. He could live with the hunger. These past few years had taught him that much. It wasn't even midnight yet, but he was exhausted. Tomorrow he'd have a busy night, what with Internal Affairs and the Shooting Review Board. He turned to walk up the stairs then realized, almost as an afterthought, that LaCroix was nearby. He was standing at the fireplace, one hand draped over the dragon. "You look as if you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders," said LaCroix, his tone dropping with concern. "Or is it only the weight of the mortal world?" "Leave me alone--I'm tired. It's over." Nick turned to head up the stairs again. One step at a time, but still LaCroix wouldn't leave. "Weren't you going somewhere?" "Yes. But I've changed my plans. Plans change, after all. Just as we change, to adapt to our surroundings." LaCroix walked to the couch, looking up at him. "You should know by now how to best survive the centuries. I'm afraid you're wrong about the other also-- it's only begun." Nick leaned on the railing and stared back. "I'm staying." "So it seems." LaCroix clasped his hands together and looked around, as if he were a party guest suddenly discovering himself to be the last to leave. "Yes, well, I have some matters to attend to. The Raven is closed for good, or ill, but you'll know where to find me when you need me." "I won't need--" "You will." The pronouncement was quick and certain. "Remember, you always have a friend in the Nightcrawler. Good night, Nicholas." There was a flash of black and a breeze the remnants of LaCroix's flight out the skylight and into the darkness. Nick paused on the staircase and leaned his chin on the handrail for a moment. LaCroix was right . . . it wasn't over. What was the old saying, that tomorrow was another day? And after the sun set and darkness fell, there would always be another night to follow. -------------------------------------------- For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@cybervanguard.com. From V4S@CYBERVANGUARD.COMMon Nov 4 07:43:04 1996 Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1996 20:32:35 -0500 From: Virtual Fourth Season To: Multiple recipients of list FKFIC-L Subject: V4S: Resurrection (18/19) Episode Number: Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season - Episode #1 Episode Title: "Resurrection" Author: Susan M. Garrett Part 18 of 19 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 1996 Susan M. Garrett -------------------------- *** Once more time, Joe Reese picked up the newspaper from his desk. His fingertips were covered in newsprint and he'd been to the washroom three times since shift started, but he didn't much care. Knowing that he had an office to return to, made the difference. "Uh, Captain?" Knight was leaning on the door frame, looking more than a little sheepish. "Looks like the prodigal son has finally come home. Have a seat, Nick." Knight entered and shrugged slightly. Reaching into his holster, he withdrew his gun and placed it on the blotter, then pulled his badge from his inside jacket pocket. For a long moment, Reese looked at the ID Knight offered, then back at him. "If this is a resignation, I want it in writing." "No, I-uh--figured that I'm probably on suspension and that you'd need these--" "Put 'em away," said Reese firmly. He picked up the gun and handed it back to Knight, grip first, after Knight returned his ID to his jacket. "Yeah, Internal Affairs wants to talk to you, but I've seen the preliminary report from them the Shooting Review Board. You're clear, Nick. Tracy Dawkins. They just need a couple words from you to cross the 't's and dot the 'i's and then it's back to work as usual." Knight stared down at the floor, not looking that much happier. "And . . . Commissioner Vetter?" "You mean -Commissioner Vetter?" When Knight looked up in surprise, Reese handed him the newspaper, folded to the front page article with a banner headline of 'Police Commissioner Vetter Resigns.' "He's got reason enough, with his daughter dead. Maybe the man's got a conscience." Knight handed back the paper and leaned back against the door. "So, it's business as usual, then?" "Hell, yes, we got bodies all over the place. Wait-a- minute, we've got a new man on for you to work with." Reese rose from his desk and walked around it, heading for the door. "Sakai--you in?" He spotted the detective at his desk and waved him over. "Come here a minute. I want you to meet your new partner." "Uh, Captain?" said Knight from behind him. "We've already--uh--sort of--" Reese stepped out of the way, backing into his office as Sakai entered. "Knight, this is Adam Sakai from the sixty-eighth." "We've met," said Sakai. He stood against the opposite door frame and shot Knight a cool look. "Last night." "Look, about that--" Knight hesitated and glanced at Reese, then back at Sakai again. "It was nothing personal, okay?" "You're entitled." But then Sakai smiled. "No sweat. My first case was to find you. Case solved--I've got one in the win column, partner." Reese walked back behind the desk and sat in his chair. "Gotta warn you about this one, Knight--he's a hot-shot." "Is he?" Knight grinned. "We'll see about that." "First things first." He pointed at Knight. " I should have you on a suspension for walking off without a word to anyone. I don't care where you were or what you were doing, I don't want it to happen again." Knight nodded. "Understood, Captain." "Yeah, well understand this--Sakai's on probation. Every case that falls into your laps from here on in had better be clean. I want paperwork filled out completely-- none of this half-assed stuff." Reese leaned forward. "When you send a case to the Crown Attorney, it's going to stick. Or I'm gonna haul both of you down to traffic and stick you in front of a terminal four hours a night checking license and registration call-ins. Got it?" Reese barely hid his smile when he saw the two men glance at one another. "Yes, sir," and "Yes, Captain," were almost in unison. Good, that was the way it was supposed to be, them against him. "That's what I want to hear. Sakai, you're still working on the attack on Dr. Lambert?" Knight stiffened and suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Conflict of interest aside--Natalie was attacked at my place. I can't be part of that investigation." "No, you can't, which is why Sakai is taking it solo." "Dr. Lambert's going to drop by later. She said she has some files for us." Sakai grinned and cocked his head, eyeing Knight. "Sounds like she's a regular visitor down here." "She's one of the best M.E.'s we have and you're gonna be damned glad of her when bodies start rolling in. Right, Nick?" Knight gave him a wan smile in return. "Sure, Captain." Now was unusual. Knight was usually one of the first to start singing Dr. Lambert's praises. He met Sakai's gaze squarely and added, "See if she can remember anything about that woman who attacked her--" "Woman?" asked Knight, nearly choking. " woman--?" "Tom Westwood can fill you in, if he's turned up--there he is!" Reese rose from behind his desk, spotting Westwood lurking in the bullpen. "Tom? Get in here, I've got some people for you to meet." "That's 'Thomas,'" said Westwood, poking his head through the door. He stood between the two detectives, just outside the door frame. "What the hell happened to you?" Reese winced at the sight of the purplish bruise on Westwood's forehead. "You were supposed to check in with me last night after you left the hospital." Westwood lowered his gaze and shrugged. "That's just it--I never leave the hospital. I took a spill on my way out the door. Knocked myself out cold--I woke up in the emergency room." Sakai turned toward him. "Adam Sakai, we met over the phone last night?" Westwood stared at him blankly, then took his hand and shook it. "We did? I don't remember any phone call." "Sure. You called me--said you were right around the corner from Knight's place. Said you'd meet me there. But you never showed." Westwood's eyes widened, then he shrugged his shoulders and looked at Reese. "Captain, I was at the hospital most of last night. And I couldn't have called--my cell-phone's gone. To tell you the truth, the last thing I remember is leaving Dr. Lambert's hospital room last night. I was going to call you and ask that we get someone to keep an eye on her for a couple of days. Whoever attacked her might come back to finish the job." "But, Dr. Lambert's out of the hospital," explained Sakai. "I met her at Knight's place last night." "You--what?" Westwood turned to Knight. "I thought you were missing." "I'm here now." Knight took Westwood's hand and shook it. "Nick Knight, Homicide. And you are--?" "Confused as hell." Reese chuckled. "Tom--," he corrected, responding to the glare he received, "is from the Vancouver P.D., he's a forensic psychologist. He's gonna be in town a couple of days--" "Make that a couple of weeks, maybe months," interjected Westwood. "I just got off the phone with Metro downtown--they'd like to contract my services for a couple of months, see what kind of help I can provide before they decide on whether to hire someone permanent." He glanced at Knight and shrugged. "Since I'm on my own time out here, why not?" "So, gentlemen, Westwood's on call. Day or night, Tom- -damn--?" Westwood smiled. "I'm available for either shift. But I'm more accurate if I can get to the scene they start carting away all the evidence." "We'll keep that in mind," said Knight softly. "Thanks." Westwood pointed toward Sakai. "Now, you wanted to talk about Dr. Lambert's case. I need to see her. She's at home, I assume." "She's back at work," explained Knight. "I'll be heading over there--I can give you a lift--" "Stay! You're talking to Internal Affairs as soon as I can get them over here," declared Reese quickly, before Knight could move. "Dr. Lambert's coming by to talk to Sakai later. It'll save you the trip, Thomas." "Great. Then I'll catch her when I come back, too. I have to go to the Coroner's Building anyway and arrange access. It's easier to put together a profile when the people handling the evidence will actually to you. Captain, Knight." Westwood nodded to each in turn, then grabbed Sakai's arm and dragged him outside, almost pulling him off balance. "What have you got on file from--" Reese rubbed his eyes, then opened them when he heard Knight trying to slip away. "You're not through yet--get back in here." "Yes, Captain," said Knight guiltily. This was the hard part. Reese picked up a photocopied sheet of paper from his blotter and handed it to Knight. "There's another reason I want you here--there's gonna be a memorial service for Tracy tonight at eight, sort of a private thing for the people who worked shift with her. If you're willing, I'd like you to say a few words." Knight stared down at the paper in his hands, then passed it back--in those few minutes, he seemed to age ten years. "Thanks. Yes. I'd like to say something." "I was hoping you might." Reese swallowed and smoothed out the paper with his hand. "The funeral's tomorrow, full dress. Normally, they'd ask you to be one of the pall- bearers--you were her partner, after all. But circumstances being what they were, I made your excuses and passed on your condolences to the family." When he looked up, Knight was watching him with a careful expression. "I hope I didn't step on any toes, Nick. It seemed like the best thing." "No, Captain. Thanks. It would have been--" Knight winced and looked down. "It would have been difficult." "It's good to have you back." When Knight looked up, smiling faintly, he added, "Go call Rogers and Wilkinson at IA. Or they'll be coming in here with bear traps and a tracker looking for you." Knight started. "Rogers and--" Then, he smiled again. "Right. I'll call them right now." He turned as if to head out the door, but paused, his back toward Reese. "Captain?" "Uh-huh?" "About being back . . . I'm not certain I'm really doing any good here." Drumming his fingers on the desktop, he asked with a sinking heart, "You want a transfer?" "No, that's not it." Knight's shoulder's slumped and then he turned back to face the desk. He leaned forward. "I mean working here, as a detective. You know how many run-ins I've had with Internal Affairs. You know my case- load. But sometimes I'm sitting out there with a stack of forms, filling out names and numbers, and I just don't know why I'm here, if there's any point to it. If I'm doing the right thing." "Hell, Nick, I'm not the guy you want to come to for a pep talk. I'm a career man--I'll do my time and then I'll retire. They'll give me a dinner and, if I'm lucky, a twenty-dollar watch that won't keep time." He nodded when Knight smiled. "We do what we have to do. If it turns out to be the right thing . . . then that's good. We've lost a lot of good people this year--we both know that. If we keep true to their memories and do the best job we can, that's gotta be right, doesn't it? We're only human, Nick. Nobody can ask us to be any more than that." "Only human." Knight nodded and smiled again. "Thanks, Captain. I'll call IA." "And tell them to bring their donuts," Reese called after him. "Wilkinson damned near cleaned us out the last time he was here. Ate the last jelly." Opening the drawer of his desk, Reese pulled out his scissors and retrieved the newspaper, adding quietly to himself, "And I the jellies," as he carefully trimmed out the large article on the resignation of Commissioner Richard Vetter and the smaller, accompanying article about the career of the Commissioner's late daughter, Detective Tracy Vetter, Homicide, of the Ninety-Sixth precinct. -------------------------------------------- For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@cybervanguard.com. From V4S@CYBERVANGUARD.COMMon Nov 4 07:43:10 1996 Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1996 20:32:46 -0500 From: Virtual Fourth Season To: Multiple recipients of list FKFIC-L Subject: V4S: Resurrection (19/19) Episode Number: Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season - Episode #1 Episode Title: "Resurrection" Author: Susan M. Garrett Part 19 of 19 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 1996 Susan M. Garrett -------------------------- *** LaCroix had learned a number of universal truths over the centuries--that dead mortals were the only mortals who could keep secrets, a good portion of humanity would endure excessive repression and unbounded cruelty as long as the trains ran on time, and that shadows were everywhere . . . it all depended on where one looked. Serena started when the man she'd hypnotized the previous evening walked right past them. Reaching out his hand, LaCroix caught her arm and drew her back into the shadows outside the police station, commenting, "He looks well enough." "I did as you asked--I left only the memories of the evening up until the moment he left Natalie's room at the hospital." She paused and fixed LaCroix with a curious glance. "Won't that prove a problem for Nicholas, in the long run?" "I'm counting on it." Changing his grip on her arm to a more friendly posture, LaCroix led her out of the shadows and onto the sidewalk, as if they were out for an evening stroll. "You seem overly concerned about causing difficulties for Nicholas, especially since you'd happily see him destroyed." "I'd like to be there when it happens, yes," she admitted. "But I don't want Nicholas taking innocents like Natalie Lambert with him." "Ah, you give her too much credit. Natalie Lambert isn't as 'innocent' as she might appear." It was a beautiful evening. And Serena was a beautiful woman. He found himself watching her and found, too, that she reminded him somewhat of Janette. "You've your heart set on leaving, I assume? A shame. You might stay and spend some time with Dr. Lambert, get to know her better. I've found her to be . . . stimulating company." "I don't dare. Thomas is still looking for me. If I slip away tonight, while he's otherwise occupied, he might never pick up my trail again." She sighed and looked away. "I assume you plan to stay, then?" "I have a radio show--it's quite popular," he admitted, without any hint of hubris modesty. It was a fact, nothing more. Facts were safe. "It should be interesting to watch the fall out from this little adventure. It might just be enough to finally bring Nicholas to his senses." They arrived at an alley between two buildings. Serena slipped her arm from his and leaned her back against the wall, staring up into the night sky. "Doesn't he know?" she wondered aloud. "Doesn't Nicholas realize how difficult it will be to keep her at arm's length, now that he's tasted Natalie's blood? Doesn't he realize the danger in which he's placed her?" LaCroix's slow smile was enough of an answer. Serena frowned and looked away. "Of course not. Fool." "Fool, indeed, but none of your concern. In fact, I'm counting on Natalie to bring Nicholas back to me." He stepped closer to her and took her hand. "I'll thank you not to meddle in my affairs." Of the few of Nicholas's blood children he had met over the centuries, Serena was by far his most successful creation, the most charming . . . and the most intelligent. She simply smiled in response, as he brought her hand to his lips for a faint kiss, and said softly, "Then this must be ." There was no chance to say more . . . and no need. Serena took to the wind, slipping away into the night, leaving LaCroix standing alone on the sidewalk. For a long moment he simply stood there, listening to voices in the darkness and sounds traveling through the air. For some reason, he was looking forward to resurrecting 'The Nightcrawler.' "'Till we meet again,' indeed," he whispered to himself, strolling away wearing a smug, self-satisfied smile. For he knew, somewhere, his words had been heard. It was far from the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but it was the beginning of something, he was certain. Only time would tell what that 'something' might be. The End --------------------------------------------- For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@cybervanguard.com.