Conceded Inhibitions
Jarvinia
2004


Preface/Notes

This is set in late second season and is an Adult, UF themed
(Nick/LaCroix) story.  No infringement is intended through borrowing the
FK characters.  May not be archived without permission.

And no, the 2004 date of when this was written is not a typo.  It didn't
get beta-ed until 2007, then in 2008 I lost the file I got, it got
redone in 2012? (thanks to my beta-reader, who still had the file and
also did a fresh read) and now here it is, finally, in (late) 2013.

Comments, suggestions, dark chocolate, white chocolate, and vampires are
more than welcome!

Enjoy!

@>--,---`---
jarvinia@gmx.com
http://gryffonslair.com

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~


Conceded Inhibitions - (01/13)

Sliding the elevator door out of his way, Nick froze as he caught sight
of LaCroix sitting on his couch, leaning back into the cushions with one
leg crossed over the other.  Nick set his jaw when he saw the glass in
the other's hand.  LaCroix had clearly made himself at home.  "What are
you doing here?"

"Waiting."

"For?"

"You, of course.  The sun is up."

Nick walked closer, trying to remain as outwardly calm as possible.  For
the most part he matched LaCroix' almost icy expression.  "And?"

A smile flashed to LaCroix' lips.  "As your mortals would say...you are
cutting things close, aren't you?"

"What does that matter to you?" Nick asked, disliking the other man's
amused tone.

"Because I fear the effects they have on you.  You are disregarding not
only what little reason you have, but your instincts."

To Nick, this was just the same old argument; and LaCroix still hadn't
answered him.  "You haven't told me why you're here."

Sensing his son's anger, LaCroix slowly stood, setting the glass on the
table next to the couch.  "I am having work done on my home."
"And you're here because...?"

"I thought I might stay and...visit.  It's been many years since we have
spent much time together, Nicholas."

"What about Janette?  Why not stay with her?"

"Janette would prefer that I didn't stay with her."

"And you think I want you here?  That I wouldn't prefer you stay
elsewhere?"

LaCroix just smirked at that.  "Of course you want me here, Nicholas.
How could you not?"

Nick was tempted to answer LaCroix' question, but didn't.  Day had come
and LaCroix would be staying whether he liked it or not.  There was no
point in starting what would only become a longer argument.  Nick walked
over to the refrigerator and pulled the door open.  Seeing additional
bottles--containing human blood--Nick did what he could to suppress
a flinch.  He shut the door harder than necessary and then spun to face
LaCroix who was now approaching.  "You could have at least asked first."

"I knew you would understand.  You always do in the end."

Just as the other reached his side, Nick took several steps away, not
turning.  "You're sleeping down here, LaCroix.  This is my home and it's
going to stay that way."  Nick then spun, his eyes narrowing in
displeasure.

"Of course, Nicholas.  Of course."

Nick stood there, somewhat stunned that LaCroix didn't provoke him
further.  He wondered what Janette had said to him and why she didn't
want him at the Raven.  Had he done something to her?  And yet, there
was no indication of that in LaCroix' stance or manner.  Nor had Janette
said anything to him, and she would have, he was sure.  Then, when
LaCroix' attention strayed, he asked, "How long do you plan to stay?"

"A week."

"And what are you having done?"

"Just a few modifications."

"And if they're done in less than a week?"

"Then I will leave."

Nick looked momentarily away, considering all that LaCroix had told him.
Again meeting the other's gaze, he asked, "And this will take only
a week?"

"Yes.  A week and no more.  I have ensured it."

Nick didn't dare ask either what LaCroix was having done to his home or
how he had ensured it would be done.  If he would be stuck with LaCroix
for what could be a week, he had no wish for them to argue the entire
time.  He feared it would happen anyway, but he'd rather it happen the
next night, or the one following night...not right from the start.
"Fine."

"Good."  LaCroix walked back over to the couch and retrieved his glass.
He took a sip of blood, his eyes not straying from his son for even
a second.  He took another sip and watched the other purposely avoid his
gaze.  Then, smiling, LaCroix turned his attention to the decor, eyes
resting momentarily on the fireplace, piano, and a few recognisable
trinkets.  Then, his gaze fell distastefully on some of his son's
decorations and paintings.  He walked over toward the canvases, pushing
aside a particularly bright half-finished sun with care.  He had been
burned by sun-symbols in the past, and didn't want to risk this one even
if it was created by a vampire.

"LaCroix, I'd rather--"

"What?" LaCroix said, glancing back to his son just before reaching for
the top of the next canvas, leaning it forward and closely examining the
painting.  Black, red, and yellow slashed the canvas in layers.  The
style wasn't particularly to his taste, but he smiled at the emotions he
saw.  Desire and anger, wants and needs.  It was all there.  His son's
two halves fighting over one another, yet coexisting as well.  This
mixture was much like his son.  It contained both the pure nature of the
vampire and the often contradictory feelings within that he so enjoyed
pushing one way or the other.  Quite beautiful, really.

"It's not what you think."

"Really?"  LaCroix looked back to the painting.  The bright yellow only
drew attention to the darker colours beneath, neither masking,
concealing nor destroying it.  If only his son could accept his nature
like it was accepted in the painting.  "I'm almost tempted to ask to
have it.  I enjoy seeing all of you."

"And I told you--it's not what you think it is," Nick told the other as
he approached.

"Oh, I know what this is."

Nick reached forward, taking the painting and leaning it back against
the one behind it, and then replacing the half-finished sun as much in
front of it as he could.  "Please, LaCroix.  Leave my paintings and
belongings alone.  I will allow you to be a guest here, but you will not
do whatever you please."

LaCroix stiffened.  "Very well.  I will leave your paintings alone.  But
I am here, Nicholas, and I do wish to spend time with you."

"Then you'll have to wait.  I'm going to bed.  Do...whatever.  Just be
quiet and stay down here."

LaCroix watched his son spin and take rushed steps to the stairs,
ascending them two at a time in an attempt to get as far away as quick
as possible.  The door to the bedroom slammed shut a moment later.
LaCroix smirked at his son's mood.  This would be interesting, he
expected.  It had been some time since they shared a residence, even
temporarily.  When a moment later LaCroix heard a lock click to his
son's room, he grinned.  Yes, interesting indeed...

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Two days later Nick startled awake, immediately feeling restrained.
Instinctively he pulled away from the arms wrapped around him.  And the
more he pulled, the more the arms tightened.

"Calm down, Nicholas."

Nick tensed at the voice, but he did cease his struggling as he woke
more fully and realised his surroundings.  "LaCroix."

"Yes."

"What are you doing in here?" Nick asked, his fingers wrapping around
LaCroix' arms.  He had explicitly told LaCroix to remain downstairs, and
the previous two days LaCroix had obeyed, sleeping on the sofa.

"I heard you earlier and awoke.  You were not sleeping well."

Nick knew what that meant: He had had a nightmare.  "I was fine.  Now,
let go of me and get out."

"Now, now, Nicholas...."

Nick tried to pull LaCroix' arms away from him, but they wouldn't budge.
"You didn't come up here the last two nights."

"The other nights you calmed after a few moments and the first night you
locked your door.  Tonight, you did not calm and I wanted to sleep."

"Then please leave so we can both do just that."

"I think I'll stay.  This is much more comfortable than your couch.  Not
so cramped."

Nick jerked his arms back, trying to force LaCroix to release him.  It
didn't work.

"Nicholas--"

"If you're going to stay, at least let go of me."

LaCroix chuckled, but did as asked.  He rolled away and onto his back,
shifting until he had adjusted the sheets.

Nick looked over his shoulder and watched LaCroix close his eyes.  Why
had LaCroix had to come into his room?  Why couldn't LaCroix have just
let him have whatever nightmare he was having?  He couldn't even
remember it now, after the jolt of finding LaCroix there.  He supposed
that was a good thing.  And LaCroix hadn't used the opportunity to tease
him about his guilt.  Nick was grateful for that as well.  "LaCroix?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for not saying anything."

"About what?"

"You know what.  The nightmares.  Thank you for not telling me that
I wouldn't get them if I'd accept what I am."  Nick tensed when LaCroix
opened his mouth, preparing to say something.  And when LaCroix closed
it again along with his eyes, Nick relaxed, pleased that the other was
going to remain quiet.  "Thank you."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"Ah, Nicolas...I was wondering when--"

Nick pressed his fingers to Janette's lips at the Raven that evening
during his shift, silencing her.  He didn't have time to mess with this
with Schanke outside in the Caddy, nor did he particularly want to play
along with one of Janette's roundabout conversations.  "I want to ask
you about LaCroix."

"You know him better than I...."

"Yes, but you talk to him more than I do.  I want to know why he had to
come and stay with me?"

"He is having modifications made to--"

"I know that."  Nick leaned over closer, smiling slightly.  "But what
I want to know is why, Janette."

"Because...I asked him to find somewhere else to stay, and he agreed
with my reasons when I explained them."

"Why can't he stay here?  You had no trouble letting him stay before."

Janette turned away.

"Janette," he said, gripping her arm and pulling her closer.  "Why must
he stay with me?  Has something happened?"

"Nothing has happened.  It's just...well, you know how he is.  You're
his favourite.  I'm nothing to him.  He'll go on and on about--"

"But you get along with him better."

"Really, Nicolas?  I may be obedient to him, but only because I know the
consequences.  He does not care for me like he does for you.  And with
him here so close, I can feel it.  I am tired of the tension between us,
and I am tired of listening to his anger over your decisions.  I told
him that I needed space.  Not just from him, but--"  She cut off, her
thoughts delving too much into her own thoughts of leaving.  "I'm sure
you can understand that, Nicolas.  The need to be away from others."

Nick loosened his grip.  "I understand it, but I don't understand why
he'll leave you alone but not me.  I've asked.  Countless times."

"Because he doesn't like seeing you like this; trying to become mortal.
I don't, either, but I accept your decision as yours to make.  He,
however, sees it as you running away, as you disowning him rather than
trying to live by your own standards."

"And given that he won't, why must he stay at my place, an apartment,
rather than here when he could easily stay and be unseen?"

"You know why."

Nick closed his eyes.  "All we do is argue, Janette."

"I don't think that matters to him, Nicolas.  He has always enjoyed your
companionship, always enjoyed your conversations.  Even when you're at
each other's throats, he has always enjoyed your company."

Nick heard Schanke calling his name across the club, and he tensed when
he saw his partner approaching.

Janette leaned closer, letting her hand brush against Nick's lapel as
she quietly told him under the music, "And since Father's Day he has
been wanting to spend more time with you.  That is what you wanted,
isn't it?  To put aside some of the hatred you both feel?  To be
civilised to one another?"

"You done here, Knight?  Natalie wants to see us at the morgue."

Janette smiled innocently at the mortal, then let her fingers run along
Nick's shirt, pulling playfully at the buttons before letting her hand
drop away.

"Yeah, Schank, I'm finished."

Janette pulled on Nick's arm as he turned away, smiling slightly.

Nick leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.  "Good night, Janette."

"Don't stay away too long, Nicolas...."  Her hand trailed down Nick's
arm as he pulled away.  Seeing that Nick's partner was scrutinising
them, she flashed him an innocent smile, saying, "Good night,
Detective."

Schanke managed a faint nod in return before Nick turned him around and
headed him in the direction of the exit.

Once outside, Schanke came to a halt, even as Nick continued to the
Caddy.  "So what, exactly, is it between you two?"

Nick kept a smile to himself as he pulled open the Caddy's door.
Schanke sort of knew, but after displays like tonight Nick had known
he'd bring it up again.

"You aren't going to tell me, are you?  I mean the real story."

Nick's smile vanished as he silently got in the Caddy and Schanke slid
into the passenger seat, both shutting their doors almost at the same
time as Schanke was rushing.  "She's really just a friend," Nick stated,
started the car up, and pulled it away from the curb.  "What did Natalie
want to see us about?  Our case?"

"Something the victim had on him.  Some pieces of paper with blood on
them, I think.  You're not going to answer me, are you?"

Nick's amused half-smile returned; Schanke had fuel for a night or two
worth of curiosity.  And he'd probably have more if Natalie had bloodied
paper to show him--she'd probably want to talk to him in private, or at
least hushed voices.


Conceded Inhibitions - (02/13)

Schanke pushed the elevator door to the side at Nick's loft a couple of
nights later.  He had hoped Nick would already be up and visible in an
instant.  After all, Nick was supposed to have been at work...close to
an hour ago.  Maybe his partner was about to leave?  But he wasn't.  The
loft was dark and eerily silent.  "Geez, Nick," he muttered, letting the
elevator door slide noisily shut.  "Why does he have to do this to me?"

Schanke stepped further into the room, stumbling his way to a lamp.
Flipping it on, he yelled up to the second level, "Knight, you're late
for work.  Cohen wants to talk to us, and she's taking out your absence
on me, even suggesting it's because of my repeated tardiness, even
though I haven't been this late since who knows when."

He waited a moment, and then started up the stairs.  Schanke was sure he
heard some movement, but he didn't get any verbal answer.  He reached
the top of the stairs and started toward Nick's bedroom.

"Come on, Knight.  And I hope you're up, 'cause I'm coming in.  If not,
you will be soon."  Schanke pushed the nearly closed door inward, and
having once more heard Nick move, he reached for the light switch on the
wall.  He flipped it and his jaw dropped like a bowling ball had been
shoved into it.  There, in the bed, was Nick and...another man, their
bodies entangled and both the sheets and their clothes a mess.  The
other man's shirt was partially undone, his hands snaked around Nick and
under his somewhat pushed up t-shirt.  Schanke wasn't sure what he was
looking at, but knew where his thoughts were going and it just didn't
make sense...  "Um, Nick?"

Nick and LaCroix shifted, the former leaning back and away, bringing his
arm up across his eyes even as LaCroix still held onto him.  "Schanke?"
Nick groggily said.

"Yeah.  You, ah, were supposed to be at work nearly an hour ago."

Nick managed to sit up, pulling forcibly away from LaCroix.  "What time
is it?"

"Er, it's about nine o'clock."  Schanke watched the two.  Nick was still
quite dazed it seemed, and the other clearly didn't seem to like the
idea of Nick getting up or leaving.  Just what was this?  What the hell
was going on here?  "Ah, I think I'm going to head back to the precinct.
I'll, er...I'll see you when you get there."  With that, Schanke turned
and headed downstairs.

"Schanke!" Nick called as reality finally dawned on him.  Then he got
up, half-stumbling to the door.  By then his partner was nearly to the
elevator.  "It's not what you're thinking."

"Forget it, Nick.  I'll, ah, well, I'll let you get dressed, and then
I'll see you at work when you get there."

Nick started around to the stairs and down, calling his partner's name,
but Schanke got in the elevator and was gone by the time he reached the
main level.

"My question, Nicholas, is just what is it that he was thinking?"

Nick turned, his eyes locking on LaCroix' amused gaze merely feet from
him.

"Are you afraid he might think we're lovers?" LaCroix prodded, stepping
closer.  "Is that what you fear?"  LaCroix raised his hand toward Nick's
cheek.

Nick pushed LaCroix' arm away and averted his eyes.  "We're not lovers,
LaCroix."

"Not at the moment."

Nick's attention snapped back onto LaCroix.  "I'd rather you not sleep
in my room tonight, and I don't want to find you when I wake again.
I'll lock the door if I have to."  He watched LaCroix stiffen.  "I need
to get to work."  Nick walked around LaCroix and headed back up to his
room.

LaCroix, a devilish smile tainting his lips, grabbed hold of Nick just
in time before he escaped.  Pulling the younger back, he whispered, "You
do still remember, don't you?"

Nick closed his eyes, unwillingly letting feelings of pure pleasure wash
through him as he recalled some of his oldest memories.  Flashes of
flesh, himself pinning LaCroix to a corridor wall, LaCroix doing the
same with him on a bed.  The shear glee rushing through each of them.
The wonderfully warm even hot blood that flowed down his throat and the
tingling, not quite helpless feeling, as LaCroix would draw it from him,
sometimes rather abruptly and without warning.  Forceful, but not
violent.  Just as he thought that Nick gasped as he felt fangs pierce
his skin, the familiar tingle of their closeness growing as LaCroix took
his blood.

LaCroix relished the moment as the younger vampire let him take his
blood without a fight.  Even the grip on his arms was loose.  He
released his son, half-expecting the other to bolt away.  But the
younger man remained.  "You miss what we once--if ever so briefly--had.
I tasted it.  I felt it."  Smiling, he continued, "You crave it,
Nicholas."

Nick turned, his expression neutral as he tried to push away the
sensations still coursing through him.  "I'm not changing what I said,
LaCroix."

LaCroix' grin grew brighter, even as his son ascended the stairs.  The
younger man had already changed his mind once, and he hadn't struggled
in the slightest or complained as he fed.  LaCroix knew his child might
not change his mind about their sleeping arrangements--at least for the
following day--but he could feel the other slipping closer.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Nick glanced over toward Schanke as he drove, the other much quieter
than usual.  In fact, ever since Schanke had come by and seen him and
LaCroix in his bed a few nights ago, his partner had avoided the subject
entirely.  Schanke had gone as far as turning off the radio whenever
LaCroix' show came on, seemingly in an attempt to avoid the subject.
And with that, he knew that Schanke was aware of just who had been with
him.  Maybe not right away, but he had caught on at some point.

Trying to keep his focus on the road, Nick decided he had to deal with
this before Schanke went blabbing to Natalie.  She didn't know LaCroix
was staying at his place; she had been too busy with other detectives'
cases to drop by.  He had been thankful for that, mainly because he had
no idea what LaCroix might do to Natalie.  "It was nothing, Schanke."
Nick glanced over at his partner once, and then a few more times as he
waited for a reply.  Schanke remained silent.  "Really."

"If you say so," Schanke said, his tone clearly showing his disbelief of
the statement.

"What's wrong with...whatever you're assuming?"  Nick turned quickly
toward his partner, catching an odd hint of unease.  Schanke didn't
typically act this way, and Nick was starting to worry at his partner's
silence.  "Schanke...I already told you it was nothing.  LaCroix is just
staying at my place for a few days."

"And don't you think doing that is odd?  I mean, there's the couch
downstairs, and I know that you, at least, have slept there before.
But, really, isn't it kinda odd?  You two sleeping in the same bed,
holding one another like...like, well, you know...."

"What?"

"Well, for one, his hands were up your shirt, and for another, you
didn't seem to mind.  Nor did he, really.  I don't care what you say
about it, that's a bit too intimate for two friends."  Schanke paused,
looking out the window.  "How well do you know him, anyway?  I mean,
I know you've listened to that show of his, but, well, I didn't realise
you actually knew him, had met him in person.  Or knew his name for that
matter.  What did you say it was?"

"Yeah, we've known one another."  Then, somewhat reluctantly, Nick
added, "And his real name is Lucien LaCroix."

"Known?" Schanke asked at the curious response, zoning in on that one
word.  It sounded like they had more than just met.  "How long have you
known him?"

Nick winced, but knowing Schanke had already figured it out, answered,
"Since before I came to Toronto."

"And you two are really just friends?"

"Yes.  He was having work done on his apartment and needed somewhere to
stay a few days.  He went back to his place yesterday."

"And how did he end up in your room and in your bed?  That's what
I really want to know."

"We used to be roommates," Nick made up.  "Back when I was in college."

"Roommates?  But, he's older than you, isn't he?"

"He's a bit older, yeah.  He was, ah, a graduate student with an
apartment and I was looking for a roommate."

"And...?"

Nick risked a glance at Schanke.  His partner wasn't buying this, it
seemed.  Not that he blamed the other; he wasn't exactly answering the
question and having been roommates probably just made the other wonder
more.  He didn't have much option but to tell more, to tell Schanke
something he'd rather not mention.  At least it was small, a truth, and
perhaps it would be a good enough reason for his partner.  "I have
nightmares, Schanke, nearly every night.  I have for a long time.
Sometimes they're....  He was with me like that in my bed because
I probably wasn't waking from the one I had that night and he was
concerned.  Even if he can't wake me he can usually stop the worst of
the nightmare, but then he stays.  He's done it before."

"I didn't know that."  Schanke paused, then quickly continued, "About
you having really bad nightmares like that.  I mean, I think everyone
has them, but every night?  I guess that makes sense."  Schanke kept
silent for a few blocks, then prodded, "So, you two definitely aren't,
well...."

"We're not lovers, just close friends."

"Okay, good.  Not that if you were it would be bad, but I just never
thought about it and can't imagine...considering Janette and all."

Nick managed a smile.  He did have a rather noticeable weakness for
women, especially if those women played seductress...whether
intentionally or not.  "Yeah, I suppose."

"Cohen told, uh...."  Schanke stopped, realising that now the other
matter had been cleared up, he had no wish to say what he need to.  He
had no wish to press this topic further, especially given his impression
of his partner had more or less gone back to what he had previously
believed beyond he seemed a bit more normal knowing Knight had some sort
of issue.  Somehow he felt it would have been easier to go ahead and
relay Cohen's message if he had gotten a different answer.

"What?"

"Nothing.  I'll tell you later."

"What did she tell you?"

Schanke looked away.  "She wants to talk to you about doing something
vaguely undercover."

"I'm not exactly unknown anymore, Schanke."

"Well, it's only vaguely undercover, and I'm not sure you'd want to do
it.  Seriously, Nick."

"What is it?" he asked since it sounded like Schanke knew what the
assignment was.

"It would be better if Cohen explained it.  Much better.  Really."

Nick stiffened at the last.  Schanke had returned to the attitude of the
previous few nights.  Nervous avoidance.  What was it that Schanke
didn't want to tell him?  And why?

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"Schanke didn't tell you?  He was supposed to."

Schanke backed away from the other two, his attention focusing through
the glass on the normal, even below average activity outside Cohen's
office.

Cohen sighed.  "All right.  Knight, you remember the murder of that
fire-fighter a few months ago?"

"The case Holloway had?  At the 27th?  With the letter and a statement
of the victim's sins?"

Cohen picked up a folder and, flipping it around, held it out to Nick.
"Victim number two.  This one is also in the 27th's jurisdiction, but
I want you to take a look at it."

Nick carefully opened the folder, casting a sideways glance at an
increasingly nervous Schanke.  Nick scanned the information quickly.
The victim was a paramedic this time.  The man had been found in his own
home, stripped and mutilated, a note lying on top of him.  "Same MO," he
muttered.  Reading further, he realised why Schanke wouldn't say
anything.  Both victims had been gay, and both had been in relationships
at the time.  It was only one of multiple 'sins' of sorts, but the first
one listed on both notes.  The notes matched; this was possibly the
beginning of a serial.

"Did your partner tell you *anything*?" Cohen asked, emphasising the
last word with a glance toward Schanke.

"Just something about doing something undercover?"

"Yes, well, as you can see, both victims were in their early- to
mid-thirties, both in public service jobs, and both were in same-sex
relationships."

Nick sent a glare at his partner.  That was why Schanke hadn't said
anything, because of finding LaCroix at his place, thinking they were in
a relationship, then finding out they weren't.  Turning back to Cohen,
he asked, "And I would have to, what?  Be bait?  Hoped to get picked for
victim number three?"

"If you choose to do it, yes.  But this is completely up to you."

"And you're telling me this because, what?"

"Because you fit much of the victim's profile.  Early- to mid-thirties,
good-looking, not outwardly religious, and in a public service job.  I'm
assuming you'll want some time to think about this, yes?"

"Yeah, I need some time," he said, a bit surprised she'd classify him as
the second.  He felt at best average, but he supposed what he was
amplified others' perceptions of him as he had heard that before.  He
also didn't look too different from the other victims.  More
specifically, they all looked normal, average.  Nick looked away,
catching Schanke's gaze for a second.  His partner looked decidedly
uncomfortable, almost embarrassed.  Probably because Cohen was upset.
"Am I the first that's been asked?"

"No.  Frankly, Detective, you're the last on the list."

Nick tensed a bit at that.  If he was last that meant if he didn't do it
it was possible no one would.  "And the others?"

"They refused for probably obvious reasons.  People have strong feelings
about homosexuality...cops included."  Cohen walked around her desk and
handed Nick two more folders.  "Take these and look them over before
answering, please.  If you are willing to do this, Knight, please do."

"I'll...consider it," he answered, looking down at the files in his
hands.  "I do need time for this, Captain.  I'm not going to have an
answer tonight."

"That's fine, but let me know as soon as you can.  While there were
almost three months between the two murders and the second was only
a couple of weeks ago, we have to assume another victim is being or has
already been chosen.  Beyond a victim profile and the scenes there is
almost nothing to go on."

Nick set his jaw, nodding, and left the office with Schanke trailing
behind him.  "Not now, Schanke.  I'll...be back later."

Schanke halted and nodded.  He sure didn't want to be Nick right now.
He couldn't imagine having to decide this, but knew he'd want to be
alone to think about it.  Schanke also knew Nick could pull this off;
absolutely positive of it.  However much he didn't want to admit it,
Knight had been great at any undercover work he'd seen the other do.
Hell of a lot better than himself.  And he knew Nick would do this if at
all possible.  Even if it, he now supposed, meant more nightmares...not
that he had asked what those were about, but he knew he'd have more
nightmares if this were him.


Conceded Inhibitions - (03/13)

"So, Nick, you decided yet?" Schanke asked early the next night as they
got in Nick's car.

"No, I haven't."

Once out on the street, Schanke carefully prodded, "You know, you'll
need to get someone to play along.  If you decide to do it, anyway."

"I know."

"What about LaCroix?  You two seem to be pretty good friends; maybe you
could convince him to help."

"It's complicated, Schanke.  I can't just ask him."

"Complicated.  Why does everything involving you have to be
complicated?"

"What do you mean?" Nick asked as they glided their way through a green
light just as it turned yellow.

"Well, you and Janette, you and Natalie....  Heck, even us.  Nothing
with you seems to be cut and dry.  There's always something more there,
whether anyone knows it or not.  I've seen you and Natalie talking about
things in relation to our cases, things I get the feeling you wouldn't
say to me or anyone else."  Schanke looked to the right, out the window.
"You know, I think you should."

"What?"

"Just ask him.  He strikes me as the direct sort, anyways, and you had
said you were close friends.  You'd be able to get him to play along,
right?  I mean he wouldn't be offended if you asked something like
that?"

Nick kept silent until he had made a right turn, Schanke's words both
making sense and not.  "I'm not sure I should do this."

"Why?  I hope it doesn't have anything to do with--"

"Schanke, it's not that.  LaCroix and I...it's not that simple.  I can't
just ask him and expect him to go along with this.  He doesn't
particularly like my job and wouldn't like me involving him with it."

Schanke wasn't sure what to say to that.  It almost sounded like this
LaCroix had some say in what Nick did and didn't do with his life.  But
it wasn't really his place to comment.  Schanke watched as Nick went
through two yellow, nearly red lights, and then asked, "You wouldn't
have to ask him, would you?  I mean, you've got a few other friends,
surely."

"No, I don't, Schanke," Nick admitted.  Beyond LaCroix about the only
friends he had were Schanke, Natalie, and Janette.  None of which were
typical 'friends', just as Schanke had already noted.

"Well...I don't know.  You could see if he'll do it and then give Cohen
an answer once you know?"

"I'm just not sure it's a good idea," he repeated, almost more to
himself.

"Why?  Are you afraid it might actually turn serious or something?"

Nick knew that's exactly what would happen.  If he asked he knew LaCroix
would want it to be real, not just a facade.  While he wasn't averse to
that, Nick didn't want to ruin what seemed to be LaCroix' slightly
mellowing opinion of him of late.  In some ways they were closer right
now than they had been in decades.  When they weren't trying to kill one
another, like at present, it was quite...nice, really.

Schanke's gaze caught on the traffic light, his eyes then looking out
the back window, the lights all red and a horn blaring from the
intersection.  "Nick, you just--"

"I'll ask him, okay?" Nick abruptly acquiesced.  "And if he'll do it,
then I'll do it."

Schanke tensed in his seat, feeling uncomfortable.  "If you really don't
want to, though, don't.  I don't want you to do anything you don't want
to, it's just...well, you do need to decide."

"There's no one else to ask," Nick said both in vague reply to Schanke
and to the situation in general.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"LaCroix?" Nick said as he alighted on a balcony after his shift ended
and quietly opened French doors to find LaCroix with his back to him.

"I'm surprised you came by here."  Pausing, LaCroix turned and let his
gaze harden.  "You must want something."

"I--"

"What?"

Nick entered the apartment more fully, shutting the doors behind him and
quickly putting distance between them.  "I've been asked to do something
somewhat...undercover.  And I need your help."

"My help?"  LaCroix audibly laughed at that.  His son needed his help
with his work.

"I'm the last choice.  Everyone else has refused."

Now, LaCroix' interest was piqued.  Just what could this be?  "Refused
what, exactly?"

"Being set up as bait."

"For?"

Nick's eyes flitted around him, stopping on every piece of furniture,
every slight display among the very sparseness of the room.  He wanted
to stall, needed to.

"Nicholas?"

"The victims were both male.  So were their lovers."

"And you want me to 'pretend' to be your lover so you can play a game
with the killer."

Nick stiffened at the correct guess, not turning to look at LaCroix.  He
could hear the dislike of the idea in the elder vampire's voice.  The
last week probably hadn't helped matters much.

"Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?"

Nick stepped toward the wall and picked up a small vase from a long thin
table.  His eyes weren't quite focusing on the vase itself, on the
blatant, erotic images LaCroix thought of as art.  The vase--probably
older than LaCroix himself--was pulled roughly from his hands, at which
he snapped his eyes to LaCroix' gaze.  "Yes, it is what I wanted to talk
to you about."

"I can barely believe you're asking this.  I think you know my answer."

Nick watched as the other crossed the room, paused to put the vase down
on an end-table, and then continued walking on away from him.  "I
thought...."

"You thought what?" LaCroix said, spinning.

"You want us to spend more time together."

"Yes.  But not as a part of some game!  Not where every action, every
thought is just a show, a display to--"

"What if I told you I didn't want it to be just a show?"  Nick watched
as LaCroix literally froze.  "What if I want to give our relationship
another chance?  That if it works, it works and I won't back away, even
after this is over."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then it doesn't.  I'm sure you're willing to take that chance, aren't
you?"

LaCroix carefully examined his son's expression.  The younger was
baiting him.  And yet there was more to the younger man's face than some
futile attempt at a continuance of their long-ended intimate
relationship.  His son wanted this even more than he did.  He had felt
it when he tasted his son's blood a few days previously.  Could he,
would he dare let this pass him by?  It couldn't make anything worse, he
supposed...

"Let me know what you decide.  Tomorrow night before sunrise," Nick told
his sire and quickly headed for the balcony doors, shutting them behind
him and taking off for home before LaCroix had much time to react.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"Friends, enemies, lovers....  And when they are one and the same, how
can you refuse?

"Friends can only show so much love, so much affection.  They can also
only provide so much council.  The advice of a friend is sometimes
tainted by the want to keep them as a friend.

"Enemies...my, my, my...enemies are quite wonderful.  To live without an
adversary, to live without having an opposite....  I'm not sure how it
is done.  Everyone has an enemy.  An ex-girlfriend.  An in-law.  The cat
that hisses at you no matter its mood.  Life would be boring and dull
without enemies.

"Lovers are the closest friends, whether the relationship is physically
intimate or not.  But secrets thrive among love affairs.  And love can
ruin friendships for all eternity, even create enemies.

"But together...a friend so close that no secrets are left, so close
that intimacy has new meaning, so close that differences vie for
competition.  To have all three...perhaps a blessing, or perhaps it's an
impossibility.  Either way, who can refuse such sweet temptation?"

"You know, Knight, that guy is utterly twisted," Schanke stated as he
reached for the volume, but Nick stopped him before he could turn it
off.

"I cannot.  But does this bliss truly exist?  And can it survive?
I don't know about you, my dear listeners, but I will find out."

Schanke tried for the dial again, this time succeeding in changing the
channel, at which classical music replaced the NightCrawler's chilly
tones.  Not what he particularly wanted, but it was the better of the
two.

"Well, I suppose I now have an answer for Cohen."

"What?"

"LaCroix gave it to me."

"What?  All that crap about he cannot refuse?  How do you know he was
answering you?"

"He has a tendency to base topics on recent conversations.  Last night
after work, I asked him."

"And you two talked about friends, enemies, and lovers?"

"You could say that."

"So, he's agreeing, then?"

"Yes."

"What is he agreeing to do?"

Nick shifted his eyes from the road.  "Actually, I'm not entirely sure."

"What do you mean, you're not entirely sure?" Schanke asked, watching as
Nick kept his attention firmly on him.  Schanke glanced to the road
several times, but Nick neither answered him nor looked toward the front
windshield.  "Uh, Nick...could you please watch the road?"

The car wavered slightly as Nick returned to facing forward and shifted
back into the centre of his lane.

"So, what'd you talk about then?"

"If he'd help or not."

"You didn't talk about how he'd help?"

"Not...specifically."

"Not specifically.  What is that supposed to mean?"

"Until I tell Cohen I don't know any details, Schanke.  I think we're
going to put on a front.  Essentially act like a couple when we're
around one another."  Nick gave a slight shrug.  "We didn't really talk
about that.  Nor much else."

"What did you do, just tell him about it, tell him to give you an
answer, and then leave?"

Nick had to smile a little at that.  It did pretty much sum up his
little visit that morning.  "Basically."

"Gee...I think I would have liked to have seen that.  I haven't really
met him, but from that show of his, I'd say not too many people could
get away with doing that."  Schanke watched Nick space off, then make
what to him seemed to be a random turn.  "Uh, Nick, where are you going?
I thought we were heading back to the precinct?"

Suddenly aware he had unconsciously turned toward CERK, Nick tensed and
turned the Caddy back toward the precinct at his first chance.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Near the end of their shift as he was getting one last cup of coffee,
Schanke's heart skipped a beat as he saw what he knew to be LaCroix
entering the precinct.  The man seemed to recognise him, giving him an
odd look before focusing on Nick.

Schanke hurried back to his desk, and once sitting leaned forward and
whispered, "LaCroix."

Nick's attention snapped toward the entrance, and sure enough LaCroix
was there.  He hadn't sensed the other, which wasn't too unusual as
LaCroix knew how not to be noticed.  But why was he here?  "I'll be
right back, Schank."  Somewhat confused, Nick walked over to LaCroix,
exiting the bullpen and joining LaCroix on the other side of the front
desk.  "What are you--"

"Just visiting.  I can do that, can't I?"

"I--"

"I find your workplace interesting."  He leaned forward and whispered to
Nick, "Quite exciting with all the nervous hearts beating, hiding things
from others and themselves."  LaCroix pulled back, still smiling.  "Have
you told your partner?"

"Told him what?"

"Us, of course.  But then you'd be risking frightening him off, wouldn't
you?  He doesn't even know, does he?  What did you tell him I was?
A cousin?  An uncle?  Some vague relation to explain--"

"A friend.  I told him you were a close friend."

"And that satisfied him?" LaCroix scoffed.  "He'll soon know there's
more, Nicholas."  LaCroix then took a glance towards his son's partner,
who looked away the very instant their eyes met.  Walking around the
younger and again leaning forward, this time pulling the younger man's
shoulder back so that Nick would turn ever so slightly toward him, he
stated, "Even now he is curious."  LaCroix turned his head, his lips
brushing against his son's ear.  "Come morning, should I expect you?"

"Yes."

LaCroix abruptly released the other.  "Good."  Giving a glance to his
son's partner, LaCroix left, quite satisfied.

Nick remained standing in place for several seconds, still somewhat
stunned by the last.  His own words were the worst.  He had said yes,
and he had said it without hesitation.  But he felt hesitant at the
thought of what would happen, even nervous to the point that he felt
a bit ill.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick noticed his partner's gaze affixed to
him.  What, exactly, had Schanke seen?  And did it really matter?  To
Schanke he could explain anything off as part of a show, part of the
undercover assignment.  Realising there were other eyes on him as well,
it hit him that most of the precinct didn't know he was going to do
this.  Nor would they until this was over.  Granted, he didn't think
anyone had seen much, with where LaCroix had been standing, but as
LaCroix wasn't a usual visitor, Nick suspected he had been noticed.

"Knight!"

Nick's head snapped toward Cohen, her expression beckoning him silently
to her office.  She had seen as well he suspected.  Nick felt gazes look
away from him as he crossed the bullpen.  From a couple of suspicious
glances, he knew that at least a couple of the other detectives had
gotten a clear look at what LaCroix had done.

Cohen closed the door behind Nick, immediately asking, "Is that the
friend you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes."

"Sit down, Nick."

Nick nervously pulled a chair out.  Cohen usually used his last name.
Once she had sat down, he also sat down, not leaning back.

"Your friend...I'd like to know a little about him; his name, contact
info, job, how you two know one another."

Nick averted his gaze.

"I'm going to do a background check on him whatever the case, Nick.  It
would be much simpler if you tell me who he is."

"His name is Lucien LaCroix."

"LaCroix?"

"L-A-C-R-O-I-X.  He does a nightly radio show on CERK."

"The NightCrawler?"

Nick winced.  "Yeah, that's him."  He could see what Cohen thought of
the show, and probably LaCroix as well.  "We met several years ago
through a mutual acquaintance."

"When?"

"While I was in college," Nick answered, not specifying further.  He
only wanted one story floating about, but while he had told Schanke they
had both been in college, Nick seriously doubted there would be any
university records for LaCroix.  He'd only have the necessities.  He
could always explain latter that LaCroix had only audited courses and
not actually been enrolled to reconcile the two for Schanke.  Hoping
Cohen would be satisfied with the small bit of information--she could
easily find at least the contact information for the radio station
now--Nick stood up and asked, "Is that all you need to know?"

"For now, yes.  Just remember that to do this well, you're going to have
to let attention be brought to you.  I know you don't like that, but the
only way you'll be targeted is if you're seen.  You'll have to carefully
and intentionally draw attention to you.  Not so much that the entire
city knows, but enough that anyone that might be following you would
know.  That means you're going to have to be seen out of the precinct
with him, Knight."

"I know, Captain."

"And I want you to meet with Holloway and his partner.  He'll give you
a list of the locations the other two victims frequented.  Remember,
it's their case, their investigation.  I'll let you know when and
where."

Nick waited to be dismissed, but Cohen didn't seem to want him to go
just yet.  "Am I dismissed?"

"Yes, you're dismissed."  She followed him to the door, and then just as
his hand reached the knob, she told him, "Nick, take care whatever you
do.  I'll let the Commissioner know you're going through with this."

Nick nodded and left the office, not meeting any of the many eyes that
shifted toward him.  Schanke's, at least, didn't show any unease.  But
Schanke thought this was all a ploy...a game and nothing more.


Conceded Inhibitions - (04/13)

LaCroix filled a second glass full as his son entered his apartment and
crossed the room.  "I'm somewhat surprised you came," he said, setting
the bottle down, picking the fuller glass up, and handing it out.  "I
had nearly believed you were just playing along."

"So had I."  Nick carefully took the glass from his sire, but he didn't
take a sip, even as LaCroix took a drink of his own glass.  It was human
blood, of course.  "My captain is going to do a background check on
you."

LaCroix tensed, but nodded.  Then, glancing at the door, he stated,
"It's nearly sunrise."

"I plan to stay the day."

"Really...."

"Really, LaCroix.  I hadn't thought about my answer then, but now that
I have, I don't think I would have answered differently.  I want to be
here."

LaCroix took a long sip from his glass, examining the younger man with
caution.  His son still hadn't taken a drink from his glass, nor did he
make any move to approach.  The younger vampire was uncomfortable
here--that was the problem.  He hadn't even sat down.  LaCroix drank the
remainder of his glass, set it down next to the bottle, and stood.  The
quick succession of movements startled the other slightly, even further
when he then approached.  "Is the blood not to your liking?"

Nick glanced to the glass in his hand, and then took a rather large sip
of the human blood.  He could see the pleasure in LaCroix' expression,
but he didn't care.  Human blood would calm him more than animal blood,
assuming LaCroix even had any on hand, something he highly doubted.

LaCroix now took his son's glass and sat it on the end table.  "There's
something else you want, isn't there?  Something even human blood cannot
always satisfy...."  The corner of his mouth turning up for a mere
second, LaCroix stepped even closer as he reached up and unbuttoned the
top three buttons of his son's shirt.  He was only faintly surprised
when the younger man didn't pull away in the slightest.

Nick watched LaCroix' every move, his eyes starting to turn gold.  He
disliked the influence LaCroix' words had on him, but he couldn't help
but react.  He truly didn't want to stop this, either.  And he needed
it.  If not LaCroix, soon he'd have gone to Janette, anyway.

"You know I would never deny you this, Nicholas.  Never."  LaCroix
gasped as his son's fangs sliced into his neck before he could loosen
his own collar, one hand gripping his neck and the other on his back,
their bodies just touching.  It had been so long since any of his
children had fed from him.  Janette disliked something about the taste
of his blood, and his son too often denied his want for it and went
elsewhere if needed.  Any of the others he had created he would never
allow to have such control.  LaCroix' eyes, now gold, slid closed as the
other gripped him tighter, taking as much of his blood as possible at
that time.

Nick pulled away just slightly, opening his eyes to see the bloodstained
wounds.  Not yet letting go of the other or yet pulling back, Nick
licked the few drops of moist but drying blood off LaCroix' skin, and
then licked off what blood lingered on his own lips.

Once released, LaCroix opened his eyes.  And, just in time, too.  He
grabbed hold of his son's retreating arm, pulling the younger back to
him.  Their eyes met, each staring deeply into the other's gaze, almost
frozen.  He pulled the other ever closer, their lips nearly touching.
And then his child looked away and it was clear this was over.  He
stiffened, but nonetheless relaxed his grip.  Amazingly, his son didn't
immediately budge.  "Nicholas?"

Nick turned back to LaCroix for a mere second before stepping back away
and turning around.  "I'm sorry, LaCroix."

"For what?" LaCroix demanded, moving up beside the younger.  He reached
a hand forward, intending to turn his son's face toward him, only to
catch a slight flinch as his hand approached.  "You are afraid."

Nick didn't move beyond stiffen.  LaCroix was right in that he was
afraid...afraid of many things, not just in rekindling their short-lived
intimacy.

"You weren't a moment ago."  LaCroix continued his hand forward and made
the younger look at him.  "What is it?"

"I can't.  It's just been so long, LaCroix.  Almost too long.  And it
didn't exactly end well."

LaCroix let his hand fall away.  No, their time together before hadn't
ended well, nor had they ever talked about it until now.  "There's still
time before dawn.  If you want to leave."

"No.  I don't want to leave.  I'm here because I want to be here."  Nick
managed a smile.  "However this turns out, it won't be instantaneous."

"But?"

Nick turned to face his sire, positioning himself just off-centre which
after the near kiss and filling himself on LaCroix' blood was more than
enough to bring his eyes back to a bright gold.  "As I said, I want to
be here."  Nick could see that LaCroix wasn't his usual, in-control
self...not quite.  He was slipping although trying not to, his eyes only
a faint gold.  "Even human blood is not always enough.  We both know
that.  And I think now is one of those times.  I'm not ready for more,
not yet, but we have other needs."

LaCroix' eyes gradually turned an ever more solid and deep amber,
eventually matching his son's in colour.  They drew closer together,
lips nearly touching again before he felt hands on his neck, forcing his
head to the side.  There was a pause before his son took his blood, just
enough to make him anticipate the bite.  Having already had his blood
drained mere minutes before and with his son's current enthusiasm,
LaCroix returned the action with some difficulty.  The other did,
indeed, want this.  Even more than he, perhaps, as he had long grown
accustomed to the lack of intimacy between them and never expected to
regain it.  And certainly not now.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

That evening Nick woke to find LaCroix' arms encircling him.  While
pleasant, the firm embrace initially startled him, and it took Nick
a moment to remember all that had happened that morning.  He and LaCroix
had shared blood several times, and it had taken much of his willpower
to resist allowing it to go further.  As is, they had both partially
undressed and gone to LaCroix' bedroom, but that had been the extent.

Noticing his son's movement, LaCroix leaned slightly forward and
whispered, "Comfortable, yes?"

Nick didn't answer, although he did lean back and let the other's
presence relax him further.  In truth, he was almost too comfortable.
He almost wished he hadn't stopped things from going further.  But the
need for this to last--if only for the sake of staying undercover--kept
him from letting this go too fast.

"Much like that first night, after Janette brought me to you.  A tinge
of hesitation, but no fear."  LaCroix closed his eyes.  "I remember the
pleasure, how very easy...."

Nick also closed his eyes, feeling the other's breath on his neck as he
spoke.  Vaguely, Nick nodded as he remembered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[1228 -- Paris, France]

Nick had frozen the instant he saw the man accompanying Janette.  What
was this?  And for that matter, just what was this man?

"Janette, leave us."

"No, I--"  He immediately cut off when the man's gaze shifted icily back
to him.  Cold, with monstrous features.

"You'll see her again soon."

Despite the assurance, Nick's eyes followed Janette as she left.  He
then quickly returned his attention to the man, LaCroix, who approached
ever closer.

"Nicholas, come to me."

Nick looked to the extended hand and somehow felt that this man would
not harm him.  As such, he scooted in the general direction of the edge
of the bed, accepting the hand.  LaCroix helped him stand, the grip
pulling him uncomfortably close to the other.

"You want eternity, immortality...."

"Yes."  Unconsciously, Nick leaned in closer.  "And you can give that to
me?  Immortality?"

"Oh yes...immortality and more."  LaCroix grinned, extending a hand and
brushing his fingers along the younger man's chin, neck, collarbone, and
then chest.  And not once did the other move.  "Very good.  Now,
closer."

At this, Nick hesitated.  Closer?  What reason would he have for him to
move closer?  And what reason did he have to refuse?  LaCroix was
a stranger to him, but he found his want to flee lacking.  Nick stepped
forward, his attention locked on the deep yellow-gold eyes shining from
LaCroix' pale features.

LaCroix' hands snapped out, gripping the other's face, shifting the
other so that Nick's back was toward the bed.  Urging the younger ever
further, LaCroix grinned and slowed, so that they moved ever closer
together.

"You can truly give me immortality?  This is real?"

LaCroix just smiled.  Leaning in, LaCroix moved to kiss the other, one
hand moving to Nick's back, then stopped his lips just short of the
other's mouth and diverted his path toward the young man's neck, kissing
it instead.  He felt the other tense; not in fear, but pleasure.
Drawing his soon to be new son against him, he could feel that this was
beyond simple pleasure.  The other was aroused, making it difficult for
him to concentrate.  He wasn't accustomed to having a meal react quite
like this.  Not that this young crusader was any mere meal.  Perhaps
Janette's little toy would be more than just a toy for her....

LaCroix bit the warm flesh, taking all but the last embers of life from
Nick's body.  As the younger man passed out, LaCroix first pulled Nick
against him and then lifted him into his arms.  This one would be
Janette's for a time, until she tired of him.  And she would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nick's eyes snapped open as he rolled back, LaCroix moving from behind
him.  When LaCroix leaned closer, their lips nearly touching, Nick
closed his eyes and waited, only for LaCroix to kiss his neck.  Between
his memories and the present, Nick felt the touch and the emotions it
generated intensify.

Feeling LaCroix' hand on his upper thigh, Nick abruptly sat up, pulling
away.  If this continued, he would certainly be late for work.  If they
went any further there was no stopping it.  "I have to leave, LaCroix."
He got out of the bed and grabbed his slacks, pulling them on without
looking back at LaCroix.  Not that it mattered--he was sure the other
knew how very aroused he was.  "I need to go by my place before work."

"And we were just starting...."

Nick turned to face LaCroix, easily seeing hints of disappointment
despite the almost playful tone.  "Don't worry," he said with a slight
smile.  "I do need to go, though.  Seriously."

"When you're done pretending--"

"I'll be back, LaCroix.  Don't worry about that."


Conceded Inhibitions - (05/13)

"So, LaCroix is going to be here?" Schanke asked as he and Nick headed
down the hall toward the morgue.  Cohen had told them to meet Holloway
and his partner at the morgue at nine.  She had apparently also called
LaCroix and told him to be there.  Or that's what he assumed, as Knight
hadn't said a word.

"Yeah, he'll be here," Nick answered, fully aware by a faint chuckling
that LaCroix was already waiting for them.  He wasn't sure what he was
more worried about: LaCroix, Natalie, Schanke, or the two detectives.
Natalie hadn't yet met LaCroix in person, although she probably knew he
was coming given where they were meeting.  And Schanke hadn't really met
LaCroix, either.  Entering the morgue, Nick met LaCroix' gaze for a mere
second.

LaCroix, who had taken residence at Natalie's desk, sent an odd smile
toward both of the detectives.  His son, he knew, would see it as
unnecessary; but it was enjoyable to watch the other Detective shift
under the uncomfortable glance.

Less than a minute passed before Natalie came back, a bit stunned to
find not only Nick and Schanke there, but who had to be LaCroix sitting
in her desk as well.  From what Nick had said of him, he disliked
mortals.  Seeing the vampire's amused expression, she suspected that was
true...and he knew who she was by the looks of it.  Ignoring LaCroix,
she looked to Nick, who seemed nervous as he leaned tentatively against
the counter.  Nick being uncomfortable in the morgue certainly wasn't
unusual, but he wasn't hiding his tenseness as well as usual.  She then
took hold of Nick's arm and gently dragged him out of the lab.  Once in
the hall, she let go of him and merely led the way to the break room,
hoping he would follow.  They needed to talk.  Now.

Nick silently walked behind Natalie and, once to the break room, he
walked past her and sat down at a table, saying nothing.  He knew he was
in for it, that she'd be upset he hadn't told her anything about the
undercover assignment.

Watching Nick continue to attempt--and fail--at hiding his nerves, she
asked, "Are you sure about doing this, Nick?  You never even mentioned
it to me and I can see how uncomfortable you are."

Nick looked away.  He had planned to say something to Natalie, but it
was just something that kept getting pushed back.

"I found out yesterday from Cohen.  I didn't know you had even been
asked to do this, let alone accepted."  Seeing him become even tenser
and, worse, downright nervous, she stated, "You're still unsure about
this."

Looking to Natalie, Nick held her gaze for a long moment before
conceding.  "Yes, Natalie, I'm unsure."

"Can I ask why?" Natalie gently prodded, sitting at the table so that
Nick would, hopefully, feel less pressured to answer.  "Is it because of
involving LaCroix, or is it the situation?"  She paused, then stated,
"Or because you were the last one asked and you feel you have to do it."

"It's everything," Nick answered, diverting his eyes to the floor.

Natalie let out a breath.  She wished he would have told her, maybe
talked to her if he was unsure, but at least he was talking to her now.
From what she was aware Nick had only answered the previous night; it's
not like he had had a lot of time to tell her, but usually he told her
things.  "How in the world did you get him to agree to this, anyway?
From what you've told me about him, I find it hard to believe he's just
going along without protest."

Nick's eyes drifted even further away.  There had, after all, been some
protest.  He had gotten LaCroix to go along by promising he'd give a try
at their relationship again--a real relationship and not just a pretend
one.

"Have you and LaCroix ever--" Natalie cut off as Nick's attention
finally snapped up to her.  She saw tiny flecks of gold; just for
a second.  "I'm sorry, I--"

Nick took hold of Natalie's hand as she went to stand, holding her in
place.  He had unintentionally scared her; her question just hit too
close to his thoughts, frightening him.  "Yes," he answered, keeping
hold of Natalie's hand.  "For a short time after I was brought over."

In a whisper, Natalie asked, "Why short?"

"I suppose because of Janette."  Nick looked up, a faint smile on his
lips.  After a pause to hold his memories back, he continued, "There
were other reasons, but if not for Janette I'm certain it would have
lasted longer."  Nick released Natalie's hand and stood.  "We never
resumed the relationship, nor ever spoke of it," he added, and then
walked to the door and pulled it open.  "We should probably go rescue
Schanke."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Schanke looked up as the lab door opened, but it was just Detective
Holloway.  At least he wasn't alone with Knight's weird friend any more.

Holloway slowed as he entered the room.  "Where's Knight?"

Schanke merely shrugged.

LaCroix, however, smirked.  "With Dr. Lambert."

Schanke stiffened at LaCroix' mocking tone.  How well did Nick really
know this man?  And how did Nick put up with him, for that matter?  He
seemed to know who Natalie was, too, and she him.  Granted, they were
both Nick's friends so he supposed they could have run into each other
at some point...but they were so different.

Before more was said, luckily, Nick and Natalie returned.  Holloway
avoided their gazes, turned toward LaCroix, and started, "Before you
commit too much to this, Mr. LaCroix, I think you should be aware of
something we learned last night."  Holloway paused a moment, expecting
LaCroix to react somehow or ask a question.  When the man didn't and
just stonily stared at him, he explained, "So far there have been two
murders.  Approximately a month to two months prior to each murder, the
other member in the relationship was injured.  The first man was shot
and the second was mugged and stabbed.  Both men recovered just fine,
and we don't believe either attack was intended to kill, but--"

"You're saying I might be attacked."

"If you agree to participate in this, the killer takes the bait, the
injuries are linked and not some strange coincidence, and the killer
follows his pattern, then...yes."

Nick spared a glance toward LaCroix.  He could see the other nearly
smile at Holloway.  Then, when LaCroix grinned quite playfully at him,
Nick turned away.  As he did so, he noticed that Natalie's gaze had
drifted to see LaCroix' reaction, but he forced himself not to look back
again.

Holloway shifted nervously.  This LaCroix made him nervous.  Handing
a sheet of paper out to Nick, he told the detective, "That's a list of
places the last two victims frequented."

Nick skimmed the list, stopping on the last location: The Raven.
LaCroix would be pleased at that, hopefully.  He, himself, had mixed
feelings about it.

Once Nick looked up, Holloway said, "You'll need to either tell Captain
Cohen directly, or tell myself or your partner where you're expecting to
be when you're off-duty and together.  Plain-clothes officers will be
assigned to stay nearby, in case of trouble.  Hopefully we'll be able to
find this guy before it goes too far.  We suspect he follows the victims
for some time, but we're not sure."

Natalie reacted the most to what was said.  Nick was going to be watched
constantly, something that could create problems under normal
circumstances.  With Nick interacting intimately with another
vampire...well, she could just imagine what might happen.  Watching
Nick's attention drift, she knew that he was thinking about that, too.

"It's not too late to back out," Holloway stated.

Nick shook his head.  He wasn't going to back out of anything.  "I
already agreed, and I haven't changed my mind."

Holloway then turned to LaCroix and asked, "The same goes for you, Mr.
LaCroix.  You are in no way obligated to participate.  In fact, I'd
suggest that you reconsider this given the danger you would be in."

LaCroix' mood was still light and amused, unaffected by what the other
had said.  "I will, as you put it, 'participate' in this game of yours."

"Then you'll need to read and sign this," Holloway said, walking over to
Natalie's desk and holding out a sheet of paper toward LaCroix.  "And
Captain Cohen would like to talk to you about the risks."

Merely taking the paper and barely glancing at what it said, he pulled
a pen out of a mug on Natalie's desk and quickly signed it, handing the
paper back to the detective before Holloway had moved away.  "*And you
can assure Captain Cohen that I accept whatever risk my involvement puts
me in,*" LaCroix said, his voice smoothly pulling in the detective's
attention.  "*She will not need to speak with me.*"

Shaking an odd sensation off, Holloway nodded and softly muttered, "Of
course," as he took the signed sheet of paper and turned his attention
back to Nick.  "I know you know the main details of the case, but has
Dr. Lambert said anything more to you about the case and specific causes
and circumstances of death since you agreed to do this?"

"No," Nick quickly answered, not turning to Natalie.  "No, we haven't
spoken about it."

"Well then, I guess I'll leave the rest to Dr. Lambert.  I'll keep you
updated on anything else we discover that you might want to be aware
of."

Nick gave Holloway a slight nod, at which the other detective left.
Immediately, however, he felt more uncomfortable.  LaCroix knew full
well that Natalie knew what both he and LaCroix were, and he was unsure
just what LaCroix would say with Schanke there.  He wouldn't put it past
LaCroix to deliberately raise his partner's suspicions--in one way or
several.

LaCroix fluidly stood and walked toward Nick.  He gave the younger man
a smile, but nothing more.

As LaCroix left, Nick felt faintly relieved.  Until, that is, Natalie
took a step toward him.  Not wanting to talk--either about the case or
anything else--he muttered, "We'll talk later," and then turned and
left.

Schanke gave a shrug to Natalie and prepared to follow Nick, but felt
a hand on his arm as Natalie stopped him.

"How is Nick doing with this?"

Schanke hesitated.  How was Nick doing, really?  Personally, he'd like
I thought he was doing great, but he seems...preoccupied."  He paused
a moment, then mentioned, "You know, Nick was hesitant about asking
LaCroix to help.  He really wasn't too thrilled with the idea at first.
And while he did ask, I kind of get the impression that Nick was
expecting LaCroix to refuse.  You think that has anything to do with
it?"

Natalie couldn't answer and merely shrugged.

"You know that they were roommates in college?  I never would have
suspected that.  Nick ever mention LaCroix to you?"

Tensing, Natalie shook her head and told him, "No, not really.  I mean,
I was aware they knew each other, but that's about it."  It was a lie,
but there was nothing she could tell Schanke about LaCroix.  What Nick
had told her about LaCroix pertained far too much to what Nick was and
his past.  Seeing Schanke shift uncomfortably, she told him, "Let me
know if Nick starts acting...ah, weird."

"Nick, weird?  That's his middle name, Natalie," Schanke responded,
joking slightly.  Then, more seriously, he nodded.  "Yeah, I'll let you
know."  Gesturing toward the door, Schanke added, "And I better go
before he leaves without me," and he did just that.

Once Schanke had left, Natalie leaned against the counter.  Schanke's
comments merely confirmed what she already knew and made her wonder if
Nick really wanted to do this.  He hadn't even seemed very comfortable
with LaCroix being there, but really, the two hadn't interacted much.
And while nothing had been said, she was sure Nick had seen the, in her
opinion, overly friendly glances that LaCroix had sent his way.

And LaCroix had zapped Holloway right there.  Schanke hadn't noticed
a thing, but she had heard the change to LaCroix' voice and seen
Holloway's blank nod and response.  LaCroix seemed to be willing to play
along, but was Nick getting into something he didn't want to, perhaps in
more than one way?


Conceded Inhibitions - (06/13)

That morning after work Nick had considered going to LaCroix' apartment,
but he decided against it as he didn't want this to turn into him going
back to LaCroix over and over right from the start.  Expecting LaCroix
would instead come to him, Nick's mood steadily dropped as first dawn
and then full sunrise came and no LaCroix.  By an hour past sunrise,
Nick was past boredom.  Part way through getting ready for bed, he had
pulled his robe on and gone back downstairs.  Lying back on the floor,
he stared up at the open skylight,
watching the light's angle tilt further and further downward as the sun
rose.

Closing his eyes, Nick tried to focus on the sound of the mortals
outside, but even the sounds of passing cars was nearly absent.  There
was nothing.

Then, feeling a faint breeze, Nick lightly smiled.  "The sun came up
a good two hours ago, LaCroix," Nick said, opening his eyes to find
LaCroix walking toward him.

"And?" LaCroix asked as he advanced and walked around the younger man's
prone form.  Then, stopping directly next to the younger, he held down
his hand.

Nick initially hesitated, his thoughts still vaguely focused on LaCroix'
late arrival and the crisp non-answer.  After a moment, he reached up to
take the offered hand, at which LaCroix gripped his arm and then pulled
him to his feet and right up against him.

LaCroix clasped the back of his son's neck with his other hand to hold
their gaze steady, still gripping the other's forearm.  Playfully
smiling at the other, he leaned faintly forward, waiting for his child
to struggle free.  When several seconds passed without any sign of
flight, LaCroix greedily quickened his advance and kissed the younger
man on the lips.

Letting LaCroix do whatever he wanted, Nick closed his eyes and tried to
relax.  It was both difficult but easy, even as he felt LaCroix' tongue
slide past his lips.  His fangs descended of their own accord, but Nick
didn't pull back, instead allowing the intrusion.  When LaCroix then
pulled back, Nick followed, returning the kiss, one of his fangs
catching on LaCroix' lip as they separated.

"You won't deny me today, will you?"

"No," Nick whispered, leaning in to kiss LaCroix, only to be spun
around.  He leaned back as LaCroix held him tightly, letting the other
kiss his neck, LaCroix' fangs occasionally teasing his skin.

Pleased, LaCroix untied the robe, faintly surprised that his son didn't
have any kind of shirt on underneath.  He nearly audibly voiced his
delight at that, his hands brushing against the younger man's cool
flesh.

Nick closed his eyes and leaned more heavily back against LaCroix.  As
LaCroix' fingers teased the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, however,
Nick abruptly broke away.

Suddenly finding the younger man walking away from him, LaCroix' eyes
quickly became deep red.

"Not down here," Nick whispered, then flew up to the balcony, landing
just outside his bedroom.

Realising that the other's interest hadn't waned, LaCroix' expression
softened.  And then, as he watched the robe slide fully off and to the
floor, he knew that the younger hadn't lied.  Wasting no more time,
LaCroix flew up and landed right in front of his enticing child.

Smiling, Nick unbuttoned LaCroix' shirt almost frantically, causing the
other to grin just as much.  By the time he reached the last button of
the other man's shirt, Nick found that LaCroix had already undone his
own belt and pants, although didn't yet remove them.  Doing this,
ignoring his usual inhibitions, he felt downright nervous.  A smile
remained on his lips, but he didn't know how long it would last.
Moreover, he hoped this wouldn't be a mistake.

LaCroix shrugged out of his shirt and stepped forward, pulling Nick
tightly against him as he slipped his shoes and socks off.  They were
both aroused, their bodies crushed against each other as they kissed
again.  There would be no turning back, whether or not they wanted to.
Still holding the younger man against him, LaCroix walked forward,
forcing Nick backward.

Nick felt the edge of the foot of the mattress against the back of his
legs, at which LaCroix pushed him onto the bed, but held his shoulders,
keeping him from lying back.  Nick closed his eyes as LaCroix ran his
fingers down the side of his face to revel more fully in the sensations
that ran through him.

As his hand continued down to Nick's neck and chest, LaCroix stopped in
surprise as the younger man pushed his hand away.  Turning his gaze down
toward his son's, wondering why the other stopped him, he felt hands on
his sides.  LaCroix allowed the removal of the remainder of his clothes.
Then he stepped out of his shed garments and kicked them back behind
him, focusing on the younger vampire's golden eyes the entire time.  He
nearly knelt; however, as he felt fingers first caress and then wrap
around his erection, LaCroix stiffened with a wave of pleasure and
closed his eyes.

Nick then bent down and took the full length of LaCroix' warm member
into his mouth.  Initially, he felt LaCroix pull away--this wasn't
something either of them had done or experienced for centuries, and not
something Nick was aware of LaCroix allowing much of anyone else to
do--at which Nick leaned in further and used one hand to hold LaCroix in
place so he wouldn't flee.

Feeling the younger vampire's fangs press against and nearly slice the
delicate flesh they simultaneously teased, LaCroix forcibly pushed the
pleasure away.  Not yet, that was his only thought.  He wanted this to
last and forced the other to stop by pulling away.  He then pushed his
son back on the bed, pleased when the other didn't resist.  And then he
paused.  It was almost too easy.  This was all....  For a second he
thought he was deep in some dream.

Seeing LaCroix freeze mid-motion, Nick started to sit back up.
"LaCroix?"

"Shh," LaCroix whispered, pushing Nick back with a smile.  He then
simultaneously slid both Nick's pyjama bottoms and boxers off and tossed
them to the side.  Not waiting in case the other changed his mind about
this, LaCroix knelt at the end of the bed and, running his hands lightly
along the other's thighs, then leaned in closer, pushing the younger
man's knees up in the process.  He gave a glance down toward his son,
just long enough to ensure that no protest was forthcoming.  Then, he
pulled Nick toward him, and after quickly positioning himself, LaCroix
pushed swiftly and deeply into the other.  The action pushed him closer
to the edge, and he paused a moment before beginning to thrust.  He
started with a quick pace, but as he heard the younger pleasurably
exhale LaCroix slowed to extend both their pleasure.

After a couple of short minutes--cut short by his son's earlier
action--LaCroix reached forward and, snatching one of Nick's hands and
pulling it toward him, he bit, taking his son's blood.  He took only
what he needed, then dropped the other's hand, leaning back as both the
taste of the blood and the height of the experience faded.

A barely audible moan passed through LaCroix' lips as Nick shifted and
moved away from him and their bodies separated.  Before he could open
his eyes, however, the other kissed him and then backed up, just out of
his range.  LaCroix started to stand; both hands on the bottom edge of
the mattress, and then he followed the other as the younger urged him
onto the bed.

Once LaCroix was fully on the bed, now kneeling in front of him, Nick
took the other by the waist and pulled LaCroix tightly up against him.
He then turned, pushing LaCroix back onto the bed.  He followed, lying
next to LaCroix.

Still kissing the other, LaCroix let his son push him back, effectively
pinning him to the mattress.  He let the younger vampire take his blood,
even when the other dank more deeply than necessary.  When Nick relaxed
and once again kissed him, he tasted drops of his own blood.  Having
tasted his son's lively blood moments before, the hint of sweetness only
made him want more.

Pulling back slightly, LaCroix touched his fingers lightly to his
child's lips and watched the younger vampire bask in the very sensations
that he knew the other so rarely did.  This was plenty enough for him,
just seeing this.  But, as his son opened his eyes and smiled coyly at
him, he was even more pleased that it appeared as though this would last
more than today at the very least.  Resuming their embrace, LaCroix
relished the feeling of his skin pressed against his son's.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Nick slept surprisingly soundly that day, slowly waking, only for his
eyes to widen slightly at the numbers staring back from his alarm clock.
He had a mere thirty-five minutes before he had to be at the precinct.
He hadn't set his alarm...he'd be late...again.

Closing his eyes, Nick leaned back, feeling LaCroix' naked form lying
behind him.  For several minutes, he just rested.  Only when LaCroix
shifted, nibbling his ear slightly, did Nick finally get up and, not
looking back at the other, he grabbed some clothes for work and went to
take a quick shower.

Returning to the bedroom a few minutes later, Nick had to stop
mid-stride as LaCroix moved into his path, not yet dressed.  "LaCroix--"

Cutting the protest off, LaCroix kissed his son and pulled him back
toward the bed.  In less than a minute, Nick's shirt was unbuttoned and
his pants unzipped, LaCroix' hands on the waistband ready to remove
them.

Nick abruptly pushed LaCroix' hands away.  "Seriously, LaCroix, I--"

"Just a few minutes more, yes?"  LaCroix kissed Nick on the neck, his
hands teasingly brushing against the other's lower abdomen, tempting the
other.  When his son neither pulled away nor pushed for more, LaCroix
sank his fangs deep into the younger man's neck, taking the flavourful
nectar he had been dreaming about as he slept.

As LaCroix released him, Nick closed his eyes, feeling a bit
light-headed.  He felt LaCroix walk around him, teasing him by brushing
his fingers against his neck.  Then he felt hands on his chest, pulling
him back.  When one of the hands ventured higher, Nick took hold of it
and hungrily bit into LaCroix' wrist.  Slowly his senses settled again.

After standing, leaning back against LaCroix for several minutes, Nick
forced himself to resume his path.  He had to leave right now if he
wanted to have any chance of arriving at work on time.  He quickly
straightened and rebuttoned his shirt, then ended up changing his pants
after seeing that they were no longer presentable.

LaCroix watched his son's hurried movements, exchanging a pleasant--if
a little annoyed--smile with the other as Nick left for work.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

A half hour into his shift, Nick was starting to feel rather
uncomfortable.  Schanke had given him several odd glances, but when
asked, the other merely shrugged it off and told him that it was nothing
important.  The dismissal angered Nick slightly, but he didn't feel like
arguing over it.

Seeing Natalie approach, Nick focused on a file in front of him, hoping
she was there for some other reason than to visit him.  And while she
did go by one of the other detectives' desks and drop a report off,
rather than leave she of course walked straight at him.

Stopping next to Nick's desk, Natalie asked, "Nick, can we go somewhere
to talk?"  He didn't turn to her.  "Cohen asked me to come over to talk
to you when Holloway told her we hadn't talked yet."

Reluctantly, Nick put his work down and, turning to face Natalie, he
nodded.  He'd have to do this, eventually.  He was probably lucky she
hadn't come by the loft that day...unless she had and had found them in
bed.  Standing, he headed down a hall and entered the conference room.
He held the door open for Natalie, then shut it as she walked passed
him.

"You've been avoiding me, Nick.  Why?"

"I thought you were here to talk about the case?"

"I am.  But you need to talk to someone about this, too.  If you have,
just tell me to shut up and I will."  She took a step toward him, but he
sidestepped and walked across the room.  "Do you know what you're really
getting into, Nick?  You never saw the victims.  Did you even ever fully
read the report on the victims' injuries?  Or the notes from the cases?
They were shot, beaten, both were sodomised, both had multiple
lacerations and stab wounds, both--"

"And?" Nick snapped, not wanting a run-down of all the victims'
injuries.

"And Cohen doesn't think you realise just what you've agreed to.
There's a reason everyone else that was asked declined and she's
worried.  She said something about you coming in a few minutes late
tonight...."  When Nick looked away, Natalie's eyes focused on a slight
stain on Nick's collar.  The fabric was dark, but she still knew what
the stain was: Blood.  That's why Nick was edgy; that's why he hadn't
wanted to talk to her.  Aware that asking if Nick had gone back to
drinking human blood was useless, as he would likely merely either
confirm it or lie about it, she simply stated, "LaCroix has fed from
you."

Nick's attention shifted back on Natalie in a split second, a bit
shocked at the sudden statement.

As Nick seemed surprised, Natalie gestured toward his collar, "The
blood-stain on your collar.  Fairly fresh, by the looks of it."

Stiffening, Nick realised that that was what had likely drawn Schanke's
attention earlier.  He looked away.  Did Schanke realise what the stain
was?  He had certainly seen it, but what did he think it was from?

"Nick?"

Nick glanced up at Natalie, before again turning and trying to put even
more distance between them.

Nick had already started to shut her out.  "So, ah, how are things going
between you with LaCroix?" she asked, resisting the urge to approach
him.  The question didn't even get him to look at her, and she could see
him tensing further.  "Nick, is something wrong?  I know you and LaCroix
weren't really on the best of terms and...."  Natalie closed her eyes
a moment, this being hard for her to say.  She didn't like that doing
this meant Nick either had already or would soon lose any progress they
had made, but worse, she feared Nick was getting into something he
really didn't want to.  It was just something about his behaviour,
especially how he wasn't talking to her at all about it.  "I just don't
want him to hurt you or force you to do something you don't want to do,"
she said, trying not to spell things out.  Natalie paused, watching Nick
turn slowly to face her.  "And, Nick, if things go too far, if this guy
manages to get to you, it could be the end of your life here.  It might
even point suspicion at what you are and--"

"I know," Nick said, cutting Natalie off, his gaze locking on to her.
"But the chance of that happening is slim.  I gave this a lot of
thought, Nat."

At the last, Natalie tensed.  He might have given it thought, but it
didn't change that he apparently either hadn't considered coming to her
or purposely decided against it.  She knew why he likely hesitated, but
she didn't want this to push them apart.  If he'd just talked to her,
told her, she wouldn't be so worried.  "Nick, if you want to talk about
any of this--or anything else--please don't hesitate to come to me.
Remember that I'm your friend."  When, after a moment, Nick headed
toward the door, Natalie stopped him with a hand on his arm.  "I mean
that, Nick.  Anything, and at any time, okay?  I know this is
complicated and probably not something you want to discuss with me, but
I'm your friend and want to help in whatever way I can."

Not quite meeting Natalie's gaze, Nick managed a slight nod.  And then
he left and headed back to his desk, pleased when Natalie didn't follow.
While he appreciated her offer, this was not something he wanted to even
think about right now, let alone talk about.  He still wasn't ready.
Maybe later, but right now he just wanted to work.


Conceded Inhibitions - (07/13)

Nick cautiously entered the dance club that both of the previous victims
had frequented.  Surrounded by mortals, many of whom were taking far
longer glances at him than he would prefer, Nick did his best to ignore
the pleasant smiles and quickly scanned the room for LaCroix.

Catching a quick glance of the older vampire at the bar, Nick made to
approach LaCroix only to spot two men off to one side of the room.
Despite their lack of uniforms, he recognised them as two officers from
the 27th precinct.  When his gaze locked with one of theirs, he
immediately looked away.  Feeling a bit queasy knowing that one or both
would be watching him and LaCroix as long as they were in the club, Nick
nearly turned and left.  But he couldn't.  While he and LaCroix had
spent a short time together at the Raven a few days earlier, this would
be their first appearance at this club, and it was necessary.

Turning back to the bar, Nick's step faltered.  LaCroix was no longer at
the bar, although a nearly empty glass sat on the counter where he had
been.  Nick approached the bar, and again hesitated slightly upon
recognising the man behind the bar as a young and rebellious vampire
that frequented the Raven.  Stiffening, he asked, "Where's LaCroix?"

"Ridding himself of unwanted attention," the bartender said, gesturing
toward the side of the room.

Nick turned, watching as LaCroix harshly spoke to a young mortal, the
man's eyes glazing over.  As LaCroix turned and approached him, Nick
watched the young mortal pass out, sliding down the wall and onto the
club's floor.  Great.  That was just...great.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were coming," LaCroix commented,
returning to his seat at the bar.

"That was unnecessary."

LaCroix ignored the comment and picked up his glass.  Closing his eyes,
he drank the remainder, the strength of the concoction nearly too much.
Setting the glass back down, he smiled.  The room swam a bit, but he had
drank the liquid slow enough that he had become used to the effect.
Opening his eyes, he pushed his glass forward and told the bartender,
"Make another for my friend."

The young vampire stiffened.  He didn't like being told what to do.  The
club didn't cater to vampires normally, beyond the blood he brought for
himself.  Tonight he had been given instructions, a very expensive
bottle of human blood that he could keep the remainder of if not
finished, and a vial of some unknown liquid.  He didn't dare refuse
LaCroix...he could make life difficult.  But he hesitated as he also
knew that the old vampire's 'friend' didn't drink human blood.

"Now."  Once the vampire had gone to fix another drink, LaCroix turned
to his son.  "You will try it, yes?  I have him risking his pitiful job
for us."

"What is it?"

"Now, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?"

"What is it?" Nick repeated, this time more firmly.

"Something you would disapprove of.  Something Janette doesn't allow at
the Raven."

As a glass was set in front of him, Nick went to take it only for
LaCroix to stop him from taking a sip, just as the glass's rim met his
lips.

"Careful, Nicholas."

Nick pulled his hand free of LaCroix's and then took a sip--a rather
large sip--and immediately wished he had heeded the other's caution.

LaCroix took the glass from his son's hand and set it down on the
counter.  Standing, he moved behind Nick, pulling the younger man back
to lean against him before his son fell off the stool.

Feeling his skin on fire, Nick shut his eyes.  His fangs descended, and
every sensation seemed to be intensified ten-fold.

"Good, isn't it?" LaCroix whispered into Nick's ear.

Shivering at the brush of air against his skin, Nick tried to answer,
but all he managed was a very soft moan.

"Hmm, yes...."

As whispers of conversation started intruding on his senses, realisation
that he was still in the club pushed Nick's focus back on his
surroundings.  Sitting up and pulling away from LaCroix, Nick opened his
eyes and stared at the glass.  He picked it up, looking at the deep
blood red liquid.  It was particularly translucent, rather like wine,
but the drink was neither wine nor even contained it, by the taste.  He
took another large sip and, setting the glass back down, he fought
against the sensations and tried to focus solely on the taste.  As the
effects began to fade, not as fully as the first but more tolerable, he
asked, "Blood, vodka, and what else?"

LaCroix smiled, answering, "You don't want to know."

Seeing the glint in LaCroix' eyes, Nick knew LaCroix was not quite his
usual self either.  Not drunk, but...high.  Turning back to the glass,
Nick suspected the unknown ingredient in the ruby liquid would likely
kill a mortal.  He had been drugged.  They were both high on some
drug...or poison.

"Try some more?" LaCroix prodded as he took one hand and ran it along
the back of Nick's hand as it rested against the bar.

Nick closed his eyes at the touch.  His senses were still heightened,
and he suspected the dangerous cocktail would merely increase it
further.  Feeling LaCroix' breath against his neck, Nick closed his
eyes.  Next thing he knew, the glass was against his lips and, when
LaCroix tilted the glass up, he got merely a few drops before LaCroix
pulled the glass away.  He nearly snatched for the glass, faintly
hearing LaCroix laugh among the muddled background, but froze as he felt
LaCroix' lips on his neck, just brushing his skin.  And then, suddenly,
he felt nothing as LaCroix pulled away and resumed his seat next to him
at the bar.

"It is rather enjoyable, isn't it?"

Nick ever so slightly nodded, not wanting to hear his voice agree.  His
eyes, with flecks of gold dancing in them, were glued to the glass,
which now sat nearly half-empty in front of him.  Bracing himself, he
took the glass again and upended it.  Instantly, he felt dizzy and the
sensation of feeling like he was about to pass out flitted through his
thoughts.

LaCroix quickly took the glass, setting it down as he steadied the
younger vampire.

Head lowered Nick felt nothing for a moment, and then he felt his senses
first gradually and then more forcefully return.  LaCroix' grip on his
arm was almost unbearable, but at the same time he yearned for more.
Feeling a hand brush against his thigh, Nick opened his eyes and turned.
While the sensation of LaCroix' hold on his arm remained, the other had,
indeed, released him.

"Close your eyes, and we will leave."  Leaning in to whisper right into
Nick's ear, he added, "You would rather spend the evening in private,
I'm sure."

Nick slowly nodded.  He didn't want to know what, exactly, he had drunk;
and had no plans to ask LaCroix for the specifics later.  Not
particularly caring that they had probably only spent a mere few minutes
in the club--far less time than they should have--Nick stood and let
LaCroix turn him around.  Once headed for the exit, Nick closed his eyes
as instructed, although he felt himself sway slightly with each step, as
his senses seemed to be becoming ever more overactive.  Feeling a slight
prick on his neck, Nick froze and leaned back.  Then, as the prick
became sharper, he felt LaCroix grasp him by the waist to hold him
steady.

"Relax, Nicholas."

Nick tried to do as suggested, but between fleeting thoughts of what the
two officers watching them would think and faint worry that he would
reveal what he was he remained tense.  He did, however, allow LaCroix to
guide him out of the club.

Once they had exited to an alley beside the club through a rear
entrance, LaCroix smiled noticing that no mortals were within sight.  As
they had stopped walking, he felt his son's focus begin to return.  Just
as the other began to turn, LaCroix bit into Nick's neck without
restraint.

Somewhat stunned by the amplified force of LaCroix' action, Nick gasped
even as he felt LaCroix pull them both into the air.  

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"Nick, you need to stay visible and not vanish," Cohen stated, as she
shut her office door and then turned back toward her detective the
following night.  "You didn't even tell them you went to the Raven
several days ago--not until I asked what you were doing last night--and
then last night you barely spent ten minutes at the club.  You are bait,
Detective; you have to give our guy time to spot you.  Wilson and Adams
also have to either see you or know exactly where you are."

Jaw set, Nick snapped, "They were watching, they knew where we were
going."

"Yes, they were watching you, but they did not expect you to leave the
club.  And when they followed, neither you nor LaCroix were traceable.
Again, you cannot just vanish without warning.  It's not safe for either
of you."  Cohen watched Nick become more defensive.  She had noticed
when he came in that he was agitated, and while Nick did have his
moments, she worried he wasn't handling this well; in one way or
another.  She debated simply telling him to return to work, but instead
told him, "I'm not going to ask what happened last night, I heard enough
from Wilson on that, who went as far as to suggest you were drunk,
drugged, or otherwise intoxicated.  Whatever the case--and whether you
were or not-- I don't want to hear anyone else comment on that again
during the course of this assignment."

Nick's stare didn't waiver from Cohen for a second.  She knew something
was up, it seemed.  But for some reason she was letting it pass.  If she
really thought he was drugged or drunk and wanted to make a point, she
could send him for a drug test.  Relaxing slightly, Nick glanced toward
the door and asked, "Anything else, Captain?"

"You're off the night after tomorrow; I want to know where you will be,
right now."

"I don't know; I haven't made plans."  Nick turned and started for the
door.

"The Raven, perhaps?" Cohen suggested, her patience waning.

Nick froze and turned.  After a second, he nodded.  "LaCroix won't be
there until at least midnight."

Nodding, Cohen walked around to the back of her desk.  As Nick pulled
the door open, she told him, "Tell your partner he's falling behind on
his reports and that I need at least the Delgado case done by tomorrow."

Barely acknowledging the message, Nick left and returned to his desk,
trying not to let Schanke's curious gaze distract him.

"So, what was that about?  I know Cohen was talking to--"

"She needs your report on the Delgado stabbing."

Schanke's thoughts stopped cold at the change of subject.  This probably
wasn't a good thing for them to talk about in the precinct right now,
anyway, but it still upset him that Nick brushed his question off so
quickly.  And now Nick wasn't even looking at him.  Exhaling, Schanke
nodded and turned his attention to the mess on his desk.  Delgado
report.  Right.


Conceded Inhibitions - (08/13)

Janette quickly crossed the dance floor upon noticing Nick's arrival.
He had managed to slip by her and was already being served a drink by
the time she reached him.  Leaning against the bar, she casually dipped
a finger into his glass and then tasted the blood.  Pleasantly surprised
that it was human blood, Janette smiled.  Nick took his glass, pulling
it out of Janette's reach.  In a whisper, he told her, "I'm off limits,
remember?"

Janette's lips remained curled into a smile and she raised a finger and
reached toward Nick's face.  When Nick had told her about his
assignment, she hadn't expected him to genuinely attempt to avoid her.
She had missed him on his previous several visits over the past few
weeks.  "Hmm, perhaps; but you don't mind."

"I mind," Nick stated, taking Janette's wrist and pushing it away.

Janette's smile shifted into a playful pout.  As she saw LaCroix
approach, however; she stiffened and her expression went neutral.

LaCroix stepped up behind Nick and sent a quick but sharp glare toward
Janette.

Without meeting LaCroix' gaze, Janette walked away.  If LaCroix wanted
her to stay back she was not about to anger him when he seemed very
intent on his focus.  Glancing back, she watched as LaCroix took a large
sip from Nick's glass and hovered right behind Nick's shoulder.  After
catching an intimate brush of LaCroix' fingers along the back of Nick's
neck, Janette forced her attention away, to her other patrons.  She knew
Nick wouldn't like to be watched, even if she worried LaCroix would hurt
him and wanted to watch for that.

Once satisfied Janette had left them, LaCroix leaned forward and
whispered, "I'm surprised at your choice of beverage...one of Janette's
best, if I am correct?"

"Please, LaCroix, I don't want to argue right now."

Despite his annoyance at the comment, instead of replying or further
provoking his son, LaCroix shifted his head slightly, just enough that
his lips brushed the skin right in front of Nick's ear.  Inching closer,
he slowly reached his right hand forward and around Nick's waist.
Before reaching his target, however, he found himself pushed back and
Nick turned and walked away from the bar.

Initially, LaCroix felt a wave of anger slice through him.  The last
couple of weeks had gone quite well, quite smoothly as far as their
relationship went.  He wasn't at all expecting this.  As he turned
LaCroix saw his son's glistening, teasing gaze.  Quickly drinking what
remained in the younger vampire's glass, he made himself relax; his son
was not pushing him away.

LaCroix then slowly approached Nick, careful to stay out of the younger
vampire's gaze, which now seemed purposefully watching the club's
patrons mingle.  Moving to stand next to his son, LaCroix let his own
attention become transfixed as well.  After a moment, he commented, "So
very naïve, wasting what little time they have to live, pouring out
their energy...."

"They at least have passion."

"Which they spill, carelessly."  LaCroix leaned toward his son.  "For
us," he whispered.  When Nick tensed and looked his way with narrowed
eyes, LaCroix smiled, nearly voicing a low laugh.  "Unaware, of course."

Returning to watching the mortals, Nick closed his eyes after a few
minutes.  He let his senses breathe in the music, movement and the
mortals' enthusiasm.  He had fully relaxed just as LaCroix moved behind
him, pulling him backward and against the other man's body.  He rested
there a moment, comfortable, until LaCroix' hands drifted down from his
waist.  He stiffened slightly at that, but then calmed as he felt
LaCroix' breath teasing, pushing lightly against the skin of his neck.

Fangs descended, LaCroix prepared to strike...just as Nick turned in his
grasp.  As the younger backed away, into the mass of dancing mortals,
LaCroix felt his patience wane.  While he enjoyed his son's playful
manner, he wished the other would be more accommodating.  When it became
clear that his son wished for him to join him, LaCroix slowly stepped
forward, his smile quickly matching the deviousness of his son's.

Nick's playful grin remained, even as LaCroix approached within inches.
Neither made any attempt to dance.

"Your inhibitions are lacking," LaCroix commented, his thoughts focusing
on how very easy his son was making this.  But then, that wasn't by
choice, was it?  However much he hoped every action of his son's was
genuinely wanted, he knew it wasn't the case; couldn't be.  As part of
their game they had to be seen...publicly.  His son had shied back at
the unwanted comment and reminder.  But then, the younger vampire never
did particularly enjoy such very public displays, not when it meant
something.  Neither did he, particularly not when the situation was
semi-forced like this.  "But then," LaCroix started, leaning closer, "We
don't need inhibitions, do we?"  He then kissed Nick full on the lips,
raising a hand to the younger man's neck as he pushed his tongue into
the other's mouth.

Nick, while faintly surprised, made no attempt to pull away.  He allowed
the kiss, returning the prodding.  After a short pause, Nick initiated
another kiss, this time running his tongue along the tips of LaCroix'
fangs.  At first, he just teased the other, going as far as pulling back
as he felt LaCroix ready to slice his tongue for a few drops of his
blood.  As LaCroix then pulled him closer, Nick's lips twisted into
a smile.  Knowing that LaCroix would wait no longer, he again kissed
LaCroix, this time purposely cutting himself on the other's sharp fangs
to give LaCroix a taste of his blood.

LaCroix nearly moaned when Nick pulled out of the kiss.  Due to the
temptation of blood, he had to keep his eyes and lips closed, lest he
reveal too much of what he was.  It didn't help that he disliked his son
having this much control over him...that almost angered him.  Almost.
Opening his barely blue eyes, he saw that his son's wants were rising
and his facade for the mortals was indeed slipping.  He watched the
younger vampire's eyes flash gold, at which LaCroix pulled his son into
another kiss.

By now, Nick and LaCroix were drawing quite a few eyes--both mortal and
vampire.  The latter took a glance before quickly averting their gazes,
finding the situation unusual but not willing to take more than a glance
due to those involved in the display.  The mortals, however, seemed to
stare for far longer, even comment aloud.

Nick, becoming aware of the reactions of those closest to them, pulled
out of yet another kiss and then leaned over to whisper to LaCroix.
"Perhaps we should go somewhere a little more private?" Nick suggested,
his voice barely audible.

LaCroix turned the younger man around, pulling Nick against him.  "Why?"
he prodded, teasing the other by not immediately agreeing.  Across the
club he noticed Janette's attention was on them.  She wasn't smiling in
the slightest, although he could feel she didn't disapprove of the
display; she was worried for her sibling, something he had noticed more
and more of late.  LaCroix smiled at Janette, then returned his focus to
the younger man's neck, which he carefully brushed his lips and fangs
against.  After what could have been minutes of this, his attentions
returned by the younger periodically and ever more hungrily, LaCroix
finally agreed, "Yes, perhaps we should."

Almost immediately, Nick broke away, turning around for just a moment
before walking into the back of the club.  Usually they left, but being
at the Raven and not feeling like waiting until they reached the loft or
LaCroix' apartment, Nick smiled as he slipped out of sight and spun.

LaCroix followed and pulled the curtain to a semi-private alcove closed
behind him.  Barely a second passed before they again kissed, this time
without any sense of modesty.  Both of their jackets landed
unceremoniously on the ground, and they quickly unbuttoned one another's
shirts.

As Nick's fangs touched his neck, LaCroix spun the younger to face away
from him.  He slipped the other's shirt free and let it drop to the
ground.  Pulling the younger man back, this time he went directly to the
task of unfastening the other's pants, even as he pricked Nick's neck
with his fangs, drawing ever larger drops of blood with each scratch.

Leaning back against LaCroix' cool skin and allowing the other to do as
he wished, Nick smiled as he felt how very aroused LaCroix was.  He was
faintly surprised, as he hadn't noticed it moments before when they were
still in the main part of the club even with their bodies pressed so
close against each other.  Suddenly he gasped, LaCroix' fangs slicing
deeply into his neck.  It was quick, and while LaCroix didn't take any
of his blood, the bite caused a mix of pain and pleasure far sharper
than the small pricks he had previously received.

LaCroix finished loosening the other's pants, and then, loosening his
own, LaCroix guided Nick forward toward the wall.

Instinctively, Nick put his hands out to prevent being pushed into the
wall.  He tensed as LaCroix pulled his pants down, pushing them down
till they were out of the way, a random thought about how this could be
construed as forced flitting through his mind.  But the thought was long
gone by the time he felt LaCroix' arousal press against his upper
thighs, flesh against flesh.

"You are mine," LaCroix whispered, his hands slipping around to rest
momentarily on Nick's hips.  Then, softer, he added, "And I am yours,
yes?"

Nick leaned his head back.  "Yes," he softly voiced, feeling LaCroix'
breath against his back as the other's lips brushed against his skin.

Smiling, LaCroix released his grip and shifted to put space momentarily
between them, just long enough to position himself to enter the other
man.  Closing his eyes, LaCroix paused, making the other wait several
seconds before he suddenly pushed forward, once again tightening his
grip on his son's body.  Waiting a few seconds, as his son had to shift
his hands after the action, LaCroix then began to thrust, his hands
gripping at the very crests of the other's hips.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Janette shut her eyes as one of the officers she knew were watching Nick
and LaCroix approached her at the bar.  When the mortal stopped next to
her, she snapped her attention to him, giving him a forced but mildly
pleasant smile.  "Yes?"

Wilson froze, stuttering slightly, not managing to voice a single
coherent word.

"If you are looking for Nicolas, he won't be long," she told him,
dipping a finger into her glass rather seductively, trying to keep his
attention.  Licking the blood off in front of the officer, she caught
the mortal's lack of belief and she sighed.  "I assure you that both he
and LaCroix are still in the club.  Now, can I have Miklos get you and
your friend something to drink?  Some water, perhaps?"

Wilson nearly refused, but there was something about the woman, Janette,
and he absently nodded.

After the mortal had taken two glasses of water from Miklos, Janette's
gaze followed him as he walked back to the table he and his partner were
sitting at.  Just about to turn away, she noticed the officer's partner
look toward the door and tense.  Curious, Janette followed his gaze, at
which she, too, tensed.  It was Nick's friend, Natalie.  The mortal's
gaze quickly found hers, and she waited as Natalie approached.

Janette sat her glass down on the bar's edge as Natalie arrived.  "You
should not be here, Doctor," she flatly stated.

Natalie stiffened.  "Because Nick's here, or because he's here with
LaCroix?" she asked, sure it wasn't because Janette didn't want her to
get hurt or worse by one of her more murderous club patrons.  When
Janette didn't answer, she calmed slightly, guessing why.  Yes, Nick was
there.  She hadn't seen his car, but Janette would have denied it if she
had been wrong.  "I'm here to talk to you, actually."

At that, Janette was genuinely surprised, but it didn't make her relax.
"But it is about Nicolas, yes?"

"Yes."  Then, lowering her eyes, Natalie whispered, "I'm concerned about
him, Janette.  He, ah, mentioned what he's doing, right?"

"His...game with LaCroix."

"Exactly.  I'm worried he's pushing himself too far.  He is not
acting...well, like he's sure of himself."

"Nicolas knows precisely what he is doing.  So does LaCroix, for that
matter."  Seeing that the mortal felt she was brushing off her concern,
Janette added, "But you are right in that Nicolas is not acting quite
like himself."

"I just don't want him to get hurt."

Pursing her lips and nodding, Janette wish she could tell Natalie he
wouldn't be, but Nick seemed to always get hurt by something.  "Nor do
I.  And while I can watch them some....  He would be hurt by this no
matter what he chose to do, Natalie."  Seeing the other start to
protest, Janette raised her hand.  "The best we can do is not judge him
or his choices.  And knowing him he did not see this as a choice.  As
I said, Nicolas knows exactly what--"  Halting mid-sentence, Janette
closed her eyes upon feeling a sudden wave of...pain?

Janette immediately turned and headed right for the back room LaCroix
and Nick had disappeared into earlier.  Both vampires and mortals moved
out of her way, although she had to give a slight shove to a couple
mortals that didn't see her.  Just before reaching the still fluttering
curtain, she saw someone--a woman by the sleek, black waist-length
hair--hurriedly slip out the back of the club.  Janette, however,
continued into the room, stiffening ever so slightly as she saw Nick
pulling away from LaCroix.  LaCroix appeared stunned and weakened, and
she could see what looked like a bullet hole in his shirt, fresh blood
staining the edges of the hole an even deeper burgundy than the rest of
the fabric.

As Nick fixed his clothes--or at least pulled up and zipped closed his
slacks---Janette started to turn hoping to stop Natalie but she was too
late.  Natalie had just entered, the fabric curtain still swinging
behind her.  She watched the mortal's eyes widen as they drifted across
the wide open swathes of Nick's skin and blood on his neck.  Then, after
a few seconds of watching her stand there, frozen and prepared to bolt,
Janette grasped Natalie's arm to stop her.  Despite her quickness, the
mortal had still managed to turn and reach for the curtain.  "Stay here,
Natalie.  I'll do what I can to stall the two officers."

Natalie remained silent and Janette left.  Why had she followed Janette?
She had known what Nick and LaCroix had likely been doing; she knew that
as soon as she discovered that Nick was at the club with the other and
they were both out of sight.  And seeing the wounds--multiple bites and
scratches--on Nick's shoulder and neck...she really hadn't expected
seeing that.  Or LaCroix right after he'd been with Nick.  And while
concerned, she could have easily waited until Janette discovered what
had happened, but she hadn't.

"Nat, could you hand me my jacket?"

Natalie shifted to face Nick, but quickly averted her eyes when she saw
him zipping LaCroix' pants.

"Natalie?  Please?"

She nodded, still a bit uncomfortable about being there, given the state
of undress both men had been in when she arrived.  Taking a step
forward, she lethargically picked up Nick's jacket from the floor and
handed it to him.

Nick had managed to pick his shirt up and slip it on, so by the time
Natalie handed him his jacket he pulled it on over top of the unbuttoned
shirt.

Natalie's eyes stayed on Nick as he hurriedly buttoned his shirt,
specifically on the few drops of blood visible just above his shirt.
When Nick tucked in his shirt and headed to leave the room, Natalie
stopped him with her hand on his shoulder.  "You, ah, just turn this
way, Nick."  Reaching into her purse, Natalie quickly searched for
anything she could use to wipe the blood on Nick's neck off, eventually
pulling out a tissue.  While Nick had stopped walking, he hadn't turned
to face her as asked.  Reaching to his other arm, she physically turned
him, so she could get to the right side of his neck.  She quickly
started to wipe the still fresh blood away.

Uncomfortable with the attention, Nick shifted, making it harder for
Natalie to reach his neck.  He could hear Janette arguing with Wilson
and his partner--they wanted to talk to him and LaCroix.  They hadn't
been in time to catch the attacker.  Or the shooter, as apparently
Janette let that slip, which hadn't helped the two calm down.  She was
assuring them paramedics were not needed, but he needed to go out there
before one of them called for an ambulance, anyway.

After getting all of the visible blood off, Natalie pulled her hands
back, releasing Nick, at which he silently pushed by her and out of the
room.  Now alone with LaCroix, Natalie glanced toward the vampire.
Seeing him with one hand pressed against the wall, seemingly supporting
himself as he leaned forward, Natalie noticed he had made no attempt to
either button his shirt or reach for his jacket.  In fact, he had barely
moved since she had come in.

Natalie slowly approached LaCroix, her eyes focusing on the bullet wound
as her first instinct--that of a doctor--kicked in.  It looked like he
had been shot awfully close to his heart, and Natalie reached out toward
his back.  His reaction was immediate--he turned and moved back from
her.  Seeing his golden eyes, Natalie stiffened.  When his eyes softened
to a light blue, Natalie stepped forward, again planning to take
a better look at the wound.

LaCroix pushed her out of his way as he walked several feet along the
wall and away from her.  Still leaning against the wall, he turned so
that he was again facing the mortal.

Leaning down, Natalie picked up his jacket and again approached him.  If
he wouldn't let her help him, she at least had to cover up the hole in
LaCroix' shirt.  She held the garment out, but he made no move to take
it.  As she moved closer, LaCroix turned so that his back was against
the wall.  When he seemed to almost fall back against it after a second,
Natalie told him, "The bullet didn't pass through you, did it?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters if you're hurt.  Which clearly you are."

LaCroix laughed, and almost instantly a wave of pain passed through his
chest.  "You know bullets won't kill me, Doctor."

Becoming angry, Natalie set her jaw.  It didn't matter if they couldn't
kill him, not to her.  "Hold out your arm," she told LaCroix, holding
out his jacket for him to put it on.

Eyeing the mortal uncertainly, LaCroix hesitated, but let her help him
with his jacket.

Natalie watched as LaCroix straightened his jacket, but her attention
then turned toward his still undone shirt, which LaCroix was making no
move to fix.  "They'll want to question you soon."

"And?"

"For one, I suggest you go along with whatever I say."

"And why should I do that?  I don't care what they think of me."

"Perhaps not, but I doubt you want them prodding you any more than
necessary."  Natalie stepped in front of him, grabbing the edges of his
shirt, buttoning it for him.

LaCroix looked away, but he let Natalie fasten the buttons on his shirt.
Secretly, he was glad of her action, as he had yet to feel any
indication that the pain was fading.  He just wanted out of there.  As
soon as Natalie had finished with his shirt, he abruptly spun her and
pulled her back against him, planning on using her to help him out.

Natalie closed her eyes, swallowing as she felt the side of LaCroix'
face rest against hers.  "Let me take the bullet out after--"

"After what?  You shouldn't even be here, Doctor."  LaCroix prepared to
frighten the mortal more, his fangs down and ready to bite her.
"Nicholas doesn't want you here," he hissed.  "I'm sure you noticed
that."

Opening her eyes, Natalie wished he were wrong.  But she knew Nick
didn't want her there; Nick didn't like sharing this part of his life,
and they both knew this would set back his work on a cure and possibly
their relationship.  Nick didn't want to disappoint her, to see it in
her eyes.  And whether there or not, she knew Nick would see it...or
he'd see her worry which seemed to garner just as bad a reaction.

LaCroix felt another sharp wave of pain slice into him, and he leaned
forward, resting a hand on Natalie's shoulder.

Feeling LaCroix lean heavily on her, Natalie tried to turn around but
was distracted when Nick and two plain clothes officers entered.

"We need to ask you a few questions, Mr. LaCroix," Wilson said, pulling
out a notepad and pen.

"Do we have to do this now?" LaCroix asked, raising his head to look at
the man who had spoken.

"Either here, now, or you need to give a statement at the station,"
Adams replied.  Then turning to his partner, he stated, "The latter is
fine, if you want to take care of your wound, first.  Knight said you
were grazed--"

"I'm fine," LaCroix half-hissed.  Then, somewhat reluctantly, he told
the officer, "Dr. Lambert, I'm sure, can provide any needed medical
treatment.  Later."

Before Wilson could ask more, Natalie told the officer, "It's not
a life-threatening injury.  He'd probably be in less pain if he were
actually shot."  Then, since obviously if he'd been grazed she'd have
the bullet she lied, "I already retrieved the bullet from the wall.
He'll be fine."

Still focused on Wilson, LaCroix stepped away from Natalie, returning to
stand next to the wall.  "Ask what you need to ask."

Natalie, distracted that LaCroix had moved, jumped slightly when Nick
took her hand and pulled her out of the room.  When he released her hand
and continued across the club, Natalie sped up to catch up to him,
following Nick through a door into the entrance to Janette's home.

Shutting the door behind them, Nick asked, "Why were you here tonight?"

"Is there some reason I shouldn't be?"

"Yes," Nick hissed, angrily.  "Why were you here?"

"I came to talk to Janette.  I didn't know you were here."

Nick looked away, turned around, and then started to pace.

"What happened, Nick?  Did you see--"

Nick stopped, trying to calm further.  "I didn't see anyone.  By the
time I realised someone was there....  They didn't waste any time before
bolting after shooting LaCroix."

When Nick again averted his eyes, Natalie told him, "I'm going to need
that bullet, Nick."

"Yeah, I know."

"He wouldn't let me near the wound."  Natalie watched Nick start to pace
again, and as he headed to return into the club, she told him, "It
seemed like he was in pain.  I helped him put his jacket on, and--"

Nick froze, his hand resting on the doorknob.  "He let you?" Nick asked
quietly as he turned back.

"Ah, well, I don't think he was too thrilled with it, but yeah, he let
me.  I don't think he could have managed it himself."

Nick tensed.  "I might call later," he said, then headed quickly back to
where he had left LaCroix.  He spotted Wilson and Adams talking to
a couple of other officers.  Passing them, he went to the back of the
club only to be stopped by Janette, just short of reaching LaCroix.

"Perhaps leave him alone, Nicolas."

Nick shook his head and pulled away from Janette.  After a pause, he
headed in to talk to LaCroix, who was standing almost exactly where he
had left the other.  Eyeing LaCroix, Nick slowly approached.  "You're in
pain?"

"I am fine, Nicholas!" he hissed, but to be honest he wasn't sure he
was.  At moments he felt fine, but then at others he felt excruciating
pain and dizziness.  The bullet just needed to be removed from wherever
it was lodged...in his heart, perhaps, by how much pain he felt.  Not
that he'd ever had that happen.

"Is that what you told Janette?"  Nick watched LaCroix turn sharply
away, push off against the wall and walk across the room, putting
distance between them.  "I assume you want to leave?"

"Of course."

"Then we're leaving."  Nick walked to the curtain, and then waited for
LaCroix to reach him.  Slowly, he walked toward the club's back exit,
making sure LaCroix was following him.

"Knight!" Wilson called, seeing the two leaving.

Nick closed his eyes, but stopped and turned.

LaCroix walked past Nick before also turning to look at the approaching
mortal.

"Are you two leaving?"

"Yes," LaCroix hissed, then continued toward the back exit.

Nick gave Wilson a slight shrug before following LaCroix outside.
Starting down the alley, Nick stopped when he realised LaCroix hadn't
moved.  "LaCroix?"

"Just take me home, Nicholas."


Conceded Inhibitions - (09/13)

Arriving at LaCroix' apartment, Nick pulled the door shut behind him
only to be pulled roughly away before he could lock it.  LaCroix kissed
him, pushing him back toward the other's bedroom.  Momentarily pulling
back, Nick commented, "Saving your energy, I take it?"

"Something like that."  LaCroix again kissed Nick, shoving his son back
up and onto the bed.  He fell forward as the younger pulled him back
with him.  Abruptly, LaCroix winced as he felt pain rip through his
chest, now closer to his shoulder.

Nick rolled to his side, pushing LaCroix onto his back.  "You should
rest."

"Is that what you really want?  To watch me rest?"  LaCroix laughed,
stopping and closing his eyes as the stabbing pain increased.

Nick rolled back onto his back so he lay next to LaCroix and closed his
eyes.  "What I want is for you to let me take you to Natalie so that the
bullet can be removed."  He waited several minutes, surprised when the
other didn't comment further, at which he turned to look at the other.
It was immediately clear that LaCroix had fallen unconscious, and seeing
that, Nick sat up and got off the bed.

So much for talking to LaCroix, suggesting that he let Natalie take the
bullet out.  He'd try himself, but from what he could tell the bullet
was relatively inaccessible.  Natalie would be able to get to it far
quicker and without causing nearly as much damage--he'd probably end up
breaking a rib or few whereas Natalie wouldn't, and flesh healed faster
than bone--and she needed the bullet regardless.  Taking another glance
back at LaCroix' unmoving form, Nick closed his eyes and started quickly
for the phone.  He wasn't going to give LaCroix the choice.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Early that morning, around three o'clock, Natalie paused outside the
door of the address Nick had left on her answering machine, her medical
bag in hand.  Nick had told her to go right in and even specifically
told her to not knock, but it felt wrong.

Taking a deep breath, Natalie turned the knob and pushed the door open,
faintly surprised to find a light on inside.  The room was empty,
however, other than some overpriced furniture and what looked like an
eclectic mix of antiques--even more assorted than Nick's.  But the
apartment was far barer.  There wasn't a television or even sign of
a radio.  Until she spotted a laptop sitting on the table in front of
the sofa, she nearly assumed LaCroix wasn't one for technology despite
being aware of his radio show.

Natalie cautiously poked her head into the kitchen, but if Nick was
there, which she assumed and hoped, he didn't appear to be awake.
Frankly she was afraid what she'd see upon finding them given what they
had been doing when interrupted earlier that evening.  Slowly, she
walked down a short hallway, past a bathroom to another room.  The door
was partially closed, but she could see that a light had been left on.
It was LaCroix' bedroom most likely, which is where she least wanted to
be right now.

Carefully prodding the door open, Natalie relaxed seeing both men asleep
on the bed, fully clothed.  She quietly walked over to Nick, lightly
touching his arm as she called his name, trying to wake him up without
waking LaCroix.  Leaning over, to get closer to Nick's ear, she stopped
as his eyes fluttered open.

Nick flinched back at the light, closing his eyes for a second as he
more fully awoke.

Natalie switched her attention to LaCroix; surprised he was still
asleep.  After a moment, she noticed his expression was far from
peaceful, and she turned to go to the other side of the bed.

Quickly grabbing Natalie's arm, Nick pulled her back as he sat up.  "Let
me wake him, Nat.  LaCroix isn't one to accept any kind of help, lest of
all from a mortal."  Loosening his grip on Natalie's hand, he quietly
told her, "If I tell you to stop or back off, anything, I want you to do
it, okay?  I don't know how he'll react to seeing you here."

A bit nervous after the last comment, Natalie paused several seconds
before nodding.  As Nick turned back toward LaCroix, Natalie walked to
the end of the bed, watching as Nick gently shook LaCroix by the
shoulder.

LaCroix woke, startled, but a smile flashed as he saw his son sitting
next to him.  Seeing the mortal at the foot of his bed, however, it
vanished and his eyes narrowed dangerously.  He quickly sat up, focusing
on the mortal, barely paying any attention to his son, who steadied him.
"What is she doing here?"

Keeping his voice barely audible, Nick stated, "You passed out earlier.
And Natalie needs the bullet one way or another.  That's all she's here
for."

LaCroix turned sharply toward his son.  "You asked her here, to my
home!"

"And since she's here, you might as well let her do what she came to
do."  Nick scooted further back on the bed to more easily get LaCroix'
jacket off.

Now, turning away from his son as well as the mortal, LaCroix suppressed
his anger at his child's decision even as his jacket was pulled off.  He
didn't make it easy for his son to remove the garment, a touch of his
annoyance registering as he jerked away as his son finally pulled the
jacket off.  His eyes then settled unintentionally on the mortal.

Natalie tensed at the harsh glare.  As LaCroix seemed to vaguely be
going along with Nick's plan, Natalie turned and put her medical bag on
a chair in the corner.  Facing away from them, Natalie slipped on a pair
of gloves and pulled out a scalpel and a pair of forceps.

As Natalie started back toward the bed, Nick pushed LaCroix back and
then reached for the collar of LaCroix' shirt.

Almost instantly, LaCroix shut his eyes as pain overwhelmed him once
again.  He tried pushing his son's hands away as Nick undid his shirt,
but he gave up after the first attempt as it only made the pain worse.

Natalie's attention was drawn by the expression on LaCroix' face--it
almost looked like a sneer, but his eyes were closed and his forehead
had wrinkled.  "You're in pain," she stated, sitting on the edge of the
bed next to him.

LaCroix nearly shoved Natalie off the bed upon feeling her sit right
next to him.  Opening his eyes to glare at her, he found he couldn't
hold her gaze for more than a couple of seconds between hunger and the
odd pain.  "It's more a matter of being uncomfortable."  As the mortal
prodded his chest and shoulder, LaCroix again closed his eyes.  When she
hit a tender spot, his left arm snapped up, gripping her wrist.

Natalie looked up, raising an eyebrow.  She was surprised by the
lightness of LaCroix' grip and the sheer chilled feeling of his skin.
Pressing on his chest just above and lateral to LaCroix' heart, she
asked, "Is this about where you were hit?"

"Yes," LaCroix answered, the unpleasant sensation tearing through him at
the mortal's action.  He pushed her hand away and tried to roll away and
sit up, but his son prevented him, holding him down.

Once more, Natalie felt for the origin of LaCroix' pain.  As soon as she
again found it, however, Nick pulled the scalpel out of her other hand
and stabbed it into LaCroix' chest...right into his heart.  Mouth agape
as LaCroix more or less died right in front of her--at least
temporarily--Natalie looked up to Nick, not sure how to react.  Nick
seemed utterly unfazed by what he had just done.  After several seconds,
she asked, "Was that absolutely necessary?"

"Yes," Nick replied, his tone calm and matter of fact.

"I was going to use that, you know."  Taking note of where her hand was,
Natalie stood and headed back to her medical bag to get another scalpel.
Before returning with the replacement and sitting down, she asked Nick,
"You don't have any more random ideas, do you?"

"No."

Natalie cautiously sat back down, her focus distracted by the scalpel
stabbed into LaCroix.  But, she supposed, it was better than having to
deal with LaCroix either struggling away from her or glaring at her.  Or
grabbing her again.  But, still, Nick's action had been so sudden....

"LaCroix should remain unconscious long enough to remove the bullet."

Natalie looked up, absently nodding.  She had to do this now, while he
was still out.  She somewhat doubted a flimsy scalpel would keep LaCroix
unconscious for long, even if it was stabbed into his heart.  As Nick
shifted, casting a shadow in front of her, she glanced up.

"Sorry," Nick whispered, turning and walking across the room.  He
watched Natalie right up until the scalpel broke LaCroix' skin, moist
blood lining the wound.  He looked away, trying not to focus on the
smell of blood...or how very tempting LaCroix' blood was to him right
now.  He had wanted it since they had been at the Raven; much as he
suspected LaCroix was still craving his blood.

Ready to leave the room for LaCroix' kitchen and fridge, Nick turned as
Natalie called his name.  She held a bullet up with forceps, blood
clinging to the metal.  As he had hoped, it hadn't taken Natalie long to
retrieve it.

"Could you get me something to put this in?  There should be something
in my bag."

Nick looked to his side, down at her bag.  Quickly, he did as asked,
pulling the bag open, rummaging through the supplies until he spotted
some small plastic bags.  He pulled one free and pulled it open as he
walked over to Natalie.

"Looks like it's in good shape.  Probably a .22, which might explain why
it didn't pass through," she said while dropping the blood-covered
bullet in the bag.  She'd clean it up once back at the morgue.

Nick silently sealed the small zip and set it next to Natalie's bag,
then walked back to the bed to stand opposite of her.  He watched as she
reached toward the scalpel he had stabbed into LaCroix.  "Sorry about
that."

"Why are you saying sorry to me?" Natalie asked, pausing as she gripped
the scalpel.  "You're the one that stabbed him.  Without warning,
I should add."  After a slight tug on the scalpel, Natalie paused and
then more forcefully yanked the blade out without any special care,
reminding herself that he'd be fine.  At least she hadn't been the one
to stab him.

Nick looked away as Natalie sent a glare at him.  When she stood, he sat
down on the bed.

"The bullet was lodged near a rib, putting pressure on an artery, if you
were wondering.  His blood wasn't circulating like it should have
been...probably lucky he didn't pass out at the Raven."

Avoiding Natalie's gaze, Nick turned toward LaCroix.  Unconsciously he
reached his hand out toward LaCroix' face.

"You two have gotten close the last few weeks."

Nick jerked his hand back, tensing at Natalie's statement.  "It's not
something I can prevent happening, Natalie."

"Even with how much you hate him?"

"I've never hated him!" he hissed, sharply glaring at Natalie.
Realising he was reacting without thinking, he tried to calm his
thoughts.  "It's complicated."

While Natalie knew their relationship was complicated, of everything
Nick had told her they disliked one another more than liked.  Now here
Nick was lashing out in LaCroix' defence.  "But you have hated him in
the past?"

"No.  I mean yes, but...."  Nick shook his head.  Why did Natalie have
to ask him this question?  And right now, when his thoughts were far
from rational?

"The human blood you've surely been drinking, and then his blood....
Nick, it's affecting you more than I think you realise."

"I'm fine," he said even though he knew she was right.  He felt on edge,
jittery, hungry...angry at the slightest little thing.  This was one
thing he had been worried about happening.  His nature was taking over.
He was losing control and he was allowing it, encouraging it even.

Natalie refused to comment any further.  They could continue this later,
assuming Nick's disposition improved.  About to turn, Natalie froze as
LaCroix took a deep breath and turned, straightening his neck.  She
nearly asked how he was feeling when Nick held his arm out, which
LaCroix took roughly, biting into Nick's wrist.  Without a word, she
turned and went back to her bag, quickly pulling her gloves off and
inside-out, stuffing them in a small plastic bag, then she left the room
for the kitchen to wash her hands.

LaCroix released his son's wrist once Natalie had left.  While he still
felt weak, no doubt from healing his new wounds, he felt less
restricted.  Turning to his son, he pushed the younger backward until he
was lying on his back.  "You know your action will not go...unpunished."
Grinning at his son, his eyes turning a bright brick red, LaCroix leaned
over and pulled his son's head easily to the side.  He hovered a couple
of seconds, then bit hard into his son's neck, from which he deeply
drank.

Returning to LaCroix' bedroom, Natalie once again froze when she saw
LaCroix feeding from Nick.  This time, her emotions running very high,
she walked over to her bag, put the smaller plastic bags with the gloves
and the bullet safely inside it, and carefully shut it.  Giving one more
glance to Nick and LaCroix, she silently left.

Hearing the door to LaCroix' apartment shut, Nick pushed LaCroix off him
and started to sit up.

"She's long gone, Nicholas."

Nick resisted as LaCroix tried to keep him still.

LaCroix forced Nick back, pinning him to the bed.  "Do you really think
she can understand?  Do you think she genuinely cares about you?  If so,
by all means, go after her."  LaCroix pulled away, sitting up.  Watching
his son also sit up, trying to decide between staying and going, he
hissed, "Go after her...if that is what you really want to do."

Nick closed his eyes.  LaCroix was right in that Natalie couldn't
understand.  Not this.  She probably thought he was purposely revamping
himself or something, that he wanted that when he didn't.  And she'd be
to her car before he got to her, anyway.  If LaCroix was right about
only one thing it was that she was too far ahead and he would too late
to catch her.

LaCroix leaned over, his lips practically touching Nick's ear.  "You
will stay, yes?"  Kissing his son's neck, LaCroix continued, "To finish
what we started?"

Leaning his head back, Nick closed his eyes.  His lips slipped into
a faint smile before parting when he felt LaCroix reach up to his collar
to start unbuttoning his shirt.  He let LaCroix push him back on the bed
and continue to undress him.  He didn't resist, his thoughts too
preoccupied.  And as he had never quite managed to focus his thoughts
after they had been interrupted earlier at the club, his tenseness
quickly melted with LaCroix' attention.


Conceded Inhibitions - (10/13)

Nearly two weeks after the incident at the Raven, Nick was grating on
his partner's nerves more than usual.  When Nick had abruptly got up and
left in the middle of their conversation, Schanke had practically
slammed down the file they had been discussing.

They were trying to decide whether the case was a homicide or not.  He
thought it was, but Nick kept insisting it wasn't.  Natalie backed him
up in that there was plenty of evidence pointing to murder.  But Nick
wasn't listening to her, either.

Nick was going out of his way to avoid both of them.  Several nights
Nick hadn't even arrived in the Caddy and Schanke had to drive...which
had only made it easier for Nick to ditch him.  On his nights off he was
completely immersed in his undercover assignment, either at the Raven or
some other club.  And the last few days...now Nick was occasionally
vanishing for a few minutes, taking off into the back of the precinct
with no notice.  Like right now.

Focusing his energy to avoid shoving the papers on Nick's desk onto the
floor, Schanke sat back and impatiently waited for his so-called partner
to return.

When Schanke noticed his partner approaching, his eyes also caught on
a shadowy figure heading back down the hall.  He had seen the man enough
times lately to know it had to be LaCroix.

Schanke looked away, trying not to stare at the other's loose collar,
one side coming up over the lapel of Nick's jacket.

Cohen came out of her office, spotting Nick just as he arrived back at
his desk, "Good, I was about to ask your partner where you were."

Standing up, Schanke pulled on his jacket.  "Captain, we've got to go
talk to someone."

"Who?" Cohen demanded, looking from Schanke to his stunned partner.
"Knight?"

Focusing on Schanke, Nick knew his partner was fumbling for an excuse to
talk to him alone.  And, as he wasn't sure he wanted to talk to Cohen
just yet, he told her, "An informant."  Not waiting for permission to
leave, Nick grabbed his jacket and left.

Schanke shrugged and hurried after Nick.

Nick pulled the Caddy out of the parking spot almost before Schanke shut
the door.

After a couple of minutes, Schanke took a deep breath.  "Okay, Knight,
what's going on?"

Nick tensed, gripping the steering wheel tighter.  And to think he had
picked this over talking to Cohen.  Evenly, he asked, "What do you
mean?"

"You know what I mean.  LaCroix.  I saw him just a few minutes ago."

"We were just talking."

Schanke started to slowly shake his head.  "Yeah, right."

"It's just a show; you know that."

"A show!"  Schanke nearly laughed, incredulous at his partner's attempt
to lie to him.  "If that's a show then I'm the Prime Minister."  This
time, Schanke did laugh.  "But no.  No, no, no.  You and LaCroix were
doing something back there and it wasn't just talking.  You've gone back
there every night this week.  It's one thing to be seen with him, but
another to come out of a dark hall with your shirt a mess."  Schanke
paused, waiting for Nick to comment, but his partner remained quiet.
"More is going on than just an undercover gig.  I can see it, and I'll
put money down that I'm not the only one, especially if you keep doing
what you've been doing the last few nights."

"That's what we're supposed to do, isn't it?"

Schanke set his jaw at the even but angry tone.  "Damn it, Nick, I'm not
putting you on trial or anything.  I could care less what you do with
your personal life, but you're late to work, going missing more than
usual, leave early, shooting daggers at me and Natalie all the time...."

Nick shot a glare toward Schanke, taking his eyes off the road for the
first time since they started the conversation.

"You're not acting...well, like you.  Not really.  Not at all."
Realising it was either now or never if he wanted to ask his question,
Schanke started, "You know, Cohen's getting concerned, too.  She's been
talking to me and Natalie...and she's worried she pushed you into doing
the assignment."

"It was my choice, Schanke."

"Yeah, I know, but Nick, she's tempted to pull you off."  As Nick shot
another glare his way, Schanke continued, "Ah, she's asked me and Nat
some rather personal questions, and before I say what, know that I'm on
your side and I'm not planning on saying anything to Cohen unless
necessary, but, ah..."

"What?"

Schanke fidgeted.  Nick was losing his patience.  "Uh, well, she wanted
to know if, well, you know..."

"Know what, Schanke?"

Schanke closed his eyes, and then, taking in another deep breath,
quickly spit out, "Cohen asked me if you were personally involved with
LaCroix.  If you'd gotten into a real relationship with him, a physical
one.  Or, well, sexual, is what she had asked...."

Nick tensed.  He hadn't wanted Cohen to get that thought about him and
LaCroix, but clearly it was too late.

"I think she's just worried you're getting too personally involved,
putting too much into this...not thinking about the case.  She's worried
you're letting your personal life interfere with the job.  I told her
I wasn't aware of it and didn't think so, that you were just trying to
put on a thorough show.  But you are, aren't you?  You're sleeping with
him."  Seeing Nick tense but make no move to deny his suspicion, Schanke
started, "So, you and LaCroix...."  Schanke glanced over at Nick, but
the other didn't appear to want to make any attempt at a conversation.
"Before now, did you ever do anything like this?  I mean, like when you
two lived together?"

Nick didn't answer, not sure what to say to his partner.  It was one
thing for Natalie to know his past--she had probably been asked the same
questions about the present, too--and while telling Schanke the truth
did cross his mind, he didn't want his partnership with Schanke any more
complicated than it already was.  But could he lie?  Shutting his eyes
for a couple of seconds, Nick shook his head to clear his thoughts.  He
didn't want to talk about this.  Not right now, and definitely not with
Schanke.

After driving several more blocks in silence, Nick abruptly pulled over.

"Nick, what the hell are you--"  When Nick got out, Schanke's eyes went
wide.  "Nick!"  Getting out, he watched his partner start walking down
the street.  "Knight!"

Nick turned around.  "Drive back to the precinct.  I...I'm going to take
a walk."  He then continued down the street, planning on turning the
first corner and flying...anywhere but there.

Schanke nearly followed, but dispatch was calling them back to the
precinct.  Cohen wanted to see them.

Sitting back down, Schanke cursed.  He had no idea how long Nick would
be.  He had nothing to tell Cohen when she asked where his partner
vanished off to this time.  And he was running out of excuses.

After a few minutes, Schanke slid over to the driver's seat.  Calling
dispatch and telling them that he was on his way back, Schanke
reluctantly pulled Nick's car out onto the road and started back toward
the precinct.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Several nights later, Nick's eyes fluttered open only to burn the
numbers on the alarm clock--LaCroix' alarm clock--into his mind.  He was
already half an hour late for work.  The previous night they had gone to
the one club with the vampire bartender again, LaCroix had given him
more of that intoxicating drink--which he had tolerated much better, but
that had also meant he had drank more of it--and they had gone back to
LaCroix' when the club closed.  They managed to stay the whole night,
somehow.

Abruptly rolling onto his back and sitting up, Nick froze as LaCroix
gripped his wrist.

"Must you go, Nicholas?"

Nick turned and met LaCroix' gaze for a second, before looking away.
"I'm late for work.  Again."

"Your so-called 'work,'" LaCroix started, also sitting up.  Releasing
his son's wrist, he asked, "Is that where you would really prefer to be?
There, rather than here?"  LaCroix reached forward and trailed his
fingers along the younger man's collarbone, then down the middle of the
other's bare chest, pushing the edge of Nick's undone shirt to the side.

Nick closed his eyes.  LaCroix was right in that he did want to stay.
Other than sleep off their drinks they had done little else that day.
Even the covers on LaCroix' bed hadn't been pulled down, and most of
their clothes were still on or partially on.  Clenching his jaw, Nick
shook his head.  "I can't skip work, LaCroix."

"Even though you are already late?  By the time you go home and
change--which is very much needed--then drive there you'll have missed
nearly an hour and a half...why bother?"  LaCroix smiled at the
invisible fight he sensed waging within his son.  "Once, Nicholas.  Just
once do what you want.  Forget them."

Slowly breathing in, Nick opened his eyes.  Just once....  Really, he
rarely missed work.  They'd be fine without him.  It's not like it would
happen again; it would be just the one time.  Once.  And he *would* be
quite late just as LaCroix said....  Closing his eyes a moment, he
smiled as he looked back over to LaCroix.  "Once, LaCroix.  I won't do
this again."

LaCroix lightly laughed, but said nothing.  His son's mood was too good
to ruin.

Still grinning, Nick scooted off the bed and left the room.  He headed
for the phone to call work, but stopped.  Between the comments he would
undoubtedly get from LaCroix and that he wasn't sure he'd be remotely
convincing, Nick turned and walked away, his eyes settling on a nearly
empty bottle of blood sitting on the coffee table.

As his hunger flared at the sight of the bottle, completely forgetting
about his thought to call work, Nick quickly stepped over to the table
and picked the bottle up.  Taking the cork out, Nick nearly took a swig
but stopped himself.  He could feel himself losing even more control.
He drank blood without a thought, and not just LaCroix'.  Part of him
enjoyed this near lack of restraint, wanted it to continue...but he knew
that would lead him right back to LaCroix.  And not like this, in the
way he wanted, but eventually back to killing.  LaCroix would set
something up and he wouldn't be able to refuse in the moment just like
he couldn't refuse LaCroix' advances now.  Then it'd be over,
completely, as he would kill and then hate himself, and LaCroix would
start criticising him.  Like he was now with his job.  It was already
starting....

But Nick needed the blood, and now.  However little was in the bottle,
he had to have it to calm his nerves.  Other than LaCroix' blood and
a couple of glasses of human blood when he had been at LaCroix' he
hadn't fed decently in nearly two weeks.  He was completely out of blood
at his place; human, bovine, it was all gone.  Nick started with a sip,
and then a larger swallow.  But all it did was make him want more, and
he quickly finished the rest of the blood in a couple of large swallows.

"Thirsty, Nicholas?"

Lowering the bottle, Nick's eyes landed on the smiling--and completely
unclothed--form of LaCroix standing only a few feet away.  Nick put the
bottle down, smirking slightly.  "Perhaps."

"There's plenty more in the kitchen."  When his son started for him, he
added in a whisper, "But then, that's not what you want, is it?"

"When have you cared what I want?" Nick asked, his playful tone and
expression undermining the severity of the question.

"And when have you ever listened to my advice?" LaCroix responded, his
manner easily matching his son's.

Continuing forward, LaCroix' words flew through Nick's mind, his thirst
still his first priority.  Nick flashed his fangs at LaCroix as he
arrived within the other's reach.  He paused, and just when LaCroix made
to laugh he struck, one hand sharply shoving LaCroix' head back to hold
the accompanying neck taut as Nick pulled the other closer and deeply
fed.

LaCroix closed his eyes as his son drained him with far more force than
he had witnessed in the younger vampire for some years.  Despite his
senses wavering at the blood loss, he had no desire to fight back.  And
then, when his son released him, he opened his eyes only to see the
other basking with pleasure, his son's breathing shallow and audible.

Nick found it hard to focus, LaCroix' blood so much more filling than
the drops of human blood he had moments ago.  But the blood did nothing
to calm him.  Licking his lips, he lowered his head as a blissful
dizziness passed through him.  More.  He wanted more.

Smiling at his son's reaction, LaCroix teased, "You seem to be enjoying
yourself," as he took a step closer.

Feeling the wall behind him, Nick's gaze locked onto LaCroix' golden
eyes and he asked, "And what about you?"

LaCroix smirked.  "You seem preoccupied with dangerous questions," he
whispered, his attention shifting downward as he undid the other's
pants.

"Desperate, LaCroix?" Nick asked and he was shoved back and pinned to
the wall by his wrists.

"Yes, very dangerous questions...."

Nick just grinned, shaking his head slightly.  He fought back the abrupt
urge to gasp as LaCroix stepped forward, pressing his body against him.
Lips nearly touching, Nick realised that, unlike himself, LaCroix wasn't
in the slightest bit aroused...although he had been earlier.  "You're
not even ready."

LaCroix ignored the statement, instead kissing the other.  Releasing his
son's wrists, he returned his hands to the other's waist and began
working the other's pants down, Nick's hands resting on his.

Suddenly finding himself alone against the wall, Nick opened his eyes to
see LaCroix stepping away from him.  This was starting to become
torture; but then, he had done the same thing to LaCroix, hadn't he?

Still able to easily see his son's hunger, LaCroix whispered, "Come,
take what you want," then continued to urge the other forward with soft
words.

Drawn forward, almost against his conscious will, Nick then discarded
his pants and boxers.  He approached LaCroix almost in a trance, his
eyes closing as they met and LaCroix pushed his long-undone shirt off
his shoulders.  As the fabric fell to the floor, he was pulled into
a kiss.  Whatever semblance of self-control he had vanished in that
instant.  Barely seconds passed before LaCroix pulled back and moved to
bite him.  But that would just increase his hunger, and he didn't want
that.  Nick spun LaCroix around and bit him high on the neck, rather
violently pulling LaCroix' head back.

This time, LaCroix fought the unexpected action, but he couldn't push
his son away.  By then, he had no more wish to, but instead turned his
focus to not passing out, his pleasure waning and an uncomfortable ache
intruding.  No longer able to stand, LaCroix had the thought of trying
to push his son away once more, only to be released.  He fell to his
knees, his son slowing his descent and kneeling behind him.

Nick tightly embraced LaCroix from behind, pulling the other to lean
back against him.

As LaCroix felt his son shift behind him, he whispered the other's name,
but was cut off as Nick unexpectedly thrust into him.  He half moaned
and half yelled, the pain startling to say the least.  After several
rapid thrusts, they both relaxed and the ache from his blood loss dulled
and melded into long forgotten sensations.  Even if he could stop this,
he no longer had any wish to.


Conceded Inhibitions - (11/13)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[1228 -- Paris, France]

Nick woke, his breathing shallow as if he had woke from
a nightmare...but he felt quite the opposite.  He felt like he did
before he was brought across, or when he killed.  So very alive....

Turning his head to the side, he saw LaCroix lying next to him, still
asleep.  He smiled.  He still could barely believe that he was enjoying
this new relationship.  A taboo relationship with a devil of sorts.
When he first met LaCroix, on one level he had been terrified of this
man.  He would have never expected the last several weeks to happen.

Carefully, he reached out and let his fingers touch against LaCroix'
cheek.  The other stirred, rolling away from him, but Nick didn't let
that deter him.  Turning onto his side as well, Nick gently prodded
LaCroix' back, but the other still didn't react.

Abruptly, Nick embraced the other from behind.  Even with an elbow in
the ribs, he didn't let go, instead pulling the other's bare body back
against his.  He rested his head against LaCroix' neck, thinking.

The last several weeks, every morning he had gone to LaCroix, and every
time LaCroix had taken him with little indication of more.  But, also,
LaCroix usually woke before him and was gone when he got up, so maybe
tonight was different?  He had done well over the past couple of weeks,
following the other's guidance as best he could, and he felt invigorated
as he became more and more accustomed to this new life.

LaCroix had encouraged him to follow his instincts, and right now he had
a strong urge to take LaCroix.  The other hadn't said anything about not
doing so, and wanting to surprise LaCroix, the thought started to form
a plan....

Next thing Nick knew LaCroix had turned and slammed him down on his
back.

"Never, Nicholas!" LaCroix hissed, fangs bared, his eyes clearly
illustrating his anger.

Stunned that LaCroix seemed to have some idea of what he was considering
before he managed to act, Nick tried to speak, but he was too stunned to
say anything intelligible.

"I suggest you bury those thoughts deep and never act on them.  Never!"

"LaCroix, I--"

"You will never speak of this, Nicholas, not to anyone!"

Nick closed his eyes.  A moment later he was thankful that LaCroix had
released him.  Even so, he didn't dare move or sit up.

"Get dressed.  I've changed our plans for tonight," LaCroix ordered
before leaving the room.

Nick blankly nodded, trembling slightly.  Not for an instant had he
expected LaCroix to be angry...or not this angry.

Never.  That's what LaCroix had told him.  Never.

Nick slowly sat up, stiffening and pulling the bedsheets up over his
still aroused body when he heard Janette approaching, calling his name.
He shut his eyes, LaCroix' words echoing in his thoughts as she sat on
the edge of the bed.  When she began to prod him, her concern showing,
he told her, "It's just a nightmare, Janette.  I'll be fine," he
assured, but he doubted she believed him.  She had probably seen LaCroix
storm off, naked...who knows what she thought....

When she went to say something, Nick pressed his fingers against her
lips.  "Janette....  Just go, please."  He managed a smile to encourage
her to leave, and after about a minute, she did.

Nick fell back on the bed, thankful to again be alone.  But he also had
to get dressed, and now.  If he didn't, he feared LaCroix' wrath would
be turned back on him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Close to dawn, Nick woke with a start.  He immediately sat up, echoes of
LaCroix hissing 'never' playing over and over in his mind.  Shutting his
eyes, hoping to shut it out, his thoughts merely turned to the events of
that night.

He had taken LaCroix more times than he likely remembered, all but the
first melding into one conglomeration of....  He opened his eyes,
tensing.  Never.

What had he done?  What would LaCroix now do to him?  LaCroix hadn't
exactly been in control of the situation...he had fixed that right from
the start by draining LaCroix further than he ever had, and he hadn't
exactly given LaCroix much chance to regain his strength.  After the
first couple of times Nick suspected LaCroix was lucky to have remained
conscious.

Glancing over at the other man, Nick was thankful that LaCroix hadn't
yet woken.  Carefully, he got out of the bed, grabbed some clothes from
the floor, and left, not even fully dressing before he was out of the
apartment.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Natalie came home from going to the bank to find Sydney waiting
impatiently for her.  "I know I fed you this morning, so--"  She cut off
as Sydney ran toward her bedroom.  From the door, she could see that the
bathroom light was on.  But she knew she had turned that off.

Putting her purse down and slipping her coat off, Natalie started
cautiously toward the bathroom.  "Nick?" she whispered, not thinking who
else could be there.  Turning the corner and looking in the small room,
she found no one there.  The shower walls were wet as if someone had
just taken a shower, but the air felt cold...very cold.

Then, her eyes drifting to the clothes on the floor, Natalie's thoughts
froze.  The jacket looked like Nick's, but the shirt--a fine black silk
shirt with a mandarin collar--she had never seen Nick wear before.
Spying the wallet lying next to the garments, Natalie bent over and
picked it up.  It wasn't Nick's; that much she knew right away.
Flipping the thin wallet open, she found only a few large bills and
a couple credit cards, not even a driver's license.  Pushing up one of
the cards, the name confirmed what she already suspected: This was
LaCroix' wallet.

She sat the wallet on the counter and turned, heading to her bedroom.
Inside, she found Sydney up on the bed, sniffing the form under a quilt
she usually kept in her closet.  Approaching, she quickly saw that it
was Nick, curled up and sleeping, probably naked given all his clothes
were in the bathroom.  As Sydney jumped over Nick, apparently wanting
a closer look at the visitor, Natalie hurried to the other side of the
bed.  "I think we should leave Nick alone, okay?" Natalie whispered as
she sat down and pulled Sydney away, putting him down on the floor.

"I didn't mind."

Natalie spun back at the soft voice.  Nick was very clearly awake.  She
smiled, taking a hand and ruffling his still very wet and curly hair.

Nick only allowed the action a moment before pushing Natalie's hand
away.  He didn't deserve to be comforted.  Not right now.  Certainly not
from Natalie.

In an instant, Natalie watched Nick's happy disposition vanish, being
replaced by a stiff seriousness.  She had been prepared to tease him
about skipping work, reminding him that others do worry and care about
him, but now all she thought about was the almost frightened tinge to
his expression.  "What's wrong?"

Nick turned his face into the bed, not wanting to meet her eyes.

Worried that some of her thoughts came true, that LaCroix had hurt him,
she asked, "What did he do to you?"  Nick still made no attempt to
answer.  "Nick, please, tell me what happened last night.  I know you
were at LaCroix'.  Or, well, I know you weren't home and you weren't at
work."

"Nothing," Nick answered, not turning to look at Natalie.

"He had to--"

"LaCroix didn't do anything to me."

Confused, Natalie shook her head slightly.  "Then what?"

"It was me, Nat.  I'm the one at fault."

"At fault?"  She reached forward, lightly touching his forehead.  "Nick,
what happened?"  Nick felt so cold...but the action at least got his
attention and made him turn his head back so she could see his face
again.  "You came here for a reason.  Why, Nick?"

"Because..."  Nick shook his head.

"Because what?"

"You can't repeat this to anyone, Nat.  And I mean anyone, not even
Janette.  And certainly not to Schanke.  Not even LaCroix."

Natalie nodded, wondering what could be so sensitive that even
Janette--or LaCroix, whom this likely concerned--couldn't be told.

Then, a bit hesitantly, Nick stated, "I took LaCroix.  Not just his
blood, but intimately.  Do you understand what I'm saying?"

A bit stunned, Natalie nearly shook her head as he asked if she
understood even though she did.  With the quietness of Nick's tone and
no sign of his nature, however, she knew there had to be more.
Eventually, she started, "Yes, but--"

"It's not something I have done before, not with anyone and certainly
not with LaCroix.  I knew LaCroix would never allow it, but I wasn't
thinking, Nat.  It just...happened."

"But if he let you...."

Nick closed his eyes.  "I'm not sure he did.  I...I had taken his blood
first, enough of his blood that he couldn't stand, and he fought against
even that.  He was at a disadvantage right from the start.  And I took
him more than once, and not gently."  Reopening his eyes and looking up
at Natalie, he told her, "This morning when I woke and realised
what...he wasn't awake and I just left.  I couldn't go to Janette or go
home in case LaCroix followed.  I knew he wouldn't come here."

As Nick's attention strayed from her, Natalie again reached forward,
this time resting her hand against his cheek.  When he didn't push her
away, she firmly told him, tried to assure him, "Even weakened I can't
see LaCroix allowing anything he wasn't okay with."

Momentarily shutting his eyes again, Nick was greeted with the memory
that had been replaying for the last half hour, LaCroix' hissed 'never'
still just as fresh as it had been that evening centuries ago.

"Nick?"

"Never."  Tensing and meeting Natalie's gaze, he told her, "LaCroix said
never long ago when I tried, I thought--  It's what ended our
relationship and I can't see his opinion on being...submissive having
changed."  Seeing Natalie ready to protest, Nick shook his head.  "Time
may have passed, but....  He yelled out, Nat.  He--  I know I hurt him
on some level.  I didn't mean to.  I didn't--"  Shaking his head harder,
Nick whispered, "I've already told you too much."

Natalie pursed her lips and watched as Nick's focus drifted.  He had
come here to be alone, likely, and so she slowly made to stand up;
however, Nick grabbed her hand firmly, frantically.  Natalie sat still
for several seconds before giving in, slipping her shoes off and lying
down.  Only then did he slowly release her, his hand snaking back in
under the quilt he was wrapped in.

Maybe Nick just wanted quiet?  Or perhaps just some semblance of safety?
He seemed terrified, and that just wasn't like Nick.  The closest she
had seen him to this was after LaCroix had found him in Toronto that
first time, when he had first told her about LaCroix.  And what Nick had
told her today...it almost sounded like he lost control and raped
LaCroix.  While she didn't think Nick was capable of full-out rape and
she stood by her guess that LaCroix would never allow it if he didn't
want it, even if weakened, she also didn't believe Nick had lied to her
or was overly exaggerating...at least not the events that he related.
Nick exaggerated feelings, emotions, not actual events.

The thought that he could have, perhaps, forced himself on LaCroix--or
at least believed he had, whatever the case--cinched Natalie's decision
to stay there with him.  If he had indeed gone too far she feared what
LaCroix would do to Nick in retaliation.  If she left him there, alone,
he'd probably feel little different than if he had gone home.  He might
even feel worse as she didn't think he had told her so that she could
yell at him or judge him...and leaving him alone in the room to suffer
with his thoughts would probably feel like some awful rejection or
confirmation of his feelings of guilt.  He hadn't mentioned that, but
given he was acting more like a rape victim than a rapist she suspected
that was there, too, just unspoken.

After all the cruel things LaCroix had done to Nick, here Nick was
feeling awful that he might--maybe--have hurt LaCroix.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

That evening, Natalie's phone rang, startling her awake.  Finding Nick
curled up next to her, the quilt now shifted off his upper body, his
head resting on her stomach, she hesitated before pushing him back to
reach for the phone.  "Hello?"

"Hi, Nat."

"Schanke," Natalie whispered as she sat up, watching Nick roll back onto
his back, not really awake.

"You heard from Nick yet?"

"Uh," she started, eyes darting down to him, trying to think of
something to say.  "Yeah, actual--"  The phone slipped out of her hand
as Nick snatched it from her.  "Nick!"

"Schanke?" Nick mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Nick?  You're at Natalie's?"  When Nick didn't answer, Schanke
continued, "You had everyone worried last night, you know that?  Natalie
managed to convince Cohen not to send a unit over to LaCroix',
mentioning she thought you didn't look well and....  Nick?"

Nick had closed his eyes, barely listening to Schanke as he pushed
Natalie's hand away.

"Nick, you okay?"

That caught Nick's attention, and he mumbled a semi-coherent, "Yeah,
fine."

"You coming in tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there."

Natalie pried the phone from Nick's hand before he could say anymore,
"Schank, Nick's, ah...."

"Was he actually sick or something?"

"Ah, yeah, actually he was."  Seeing Nick start waking up more, Natalie
added, "If he ends up not going in, I'll call and let you know, okay?"
Getting an agreement, Natalie told him goodbye and hung up.  She reached
over Nick to put the phone back, and as she sat back down she noticed
Nick watching her, his eyes now focused.

"He sounded...worried."

"Yeah, well, you didn't show up to work last night."

"I planned to.  I woke up late and was going to go in when...well...you
already know what happened, what I did."

"You should have called someone, Nick.  Cohen--"

"Yeah, I think I remember Schanke saying something about that...I'm
sorry, Nat.  I thought about it, but hesitated...and then got
side-tracked."

When Nick started to space off, Natalie suggested, "If you don't want to
go in, Nick, you don't have to.  I can--"

Nick shook his head.  "No.  No, I should go.  But I need to go home
first.  I can at least avoid LaCroix easier at work."  Sitting up and
giving a quick glance to Nat, Nick got up, still holding the quilt
around him, and then headed to the bathroom to get dressed.

Natalie remained sitting on the bed, wishing she could say something to
Nick that would help.  Sitting there, silently thinking, she wondered
what had really happened?  She still doubted Nick had lied to her, but
she sensed that there was more going on in his thoughts than he was
telling her, maybe even more than she guessed or had figured out for
herself.  Nick, after all, still seemed to be acting oddly.  Vacant.
Something.

She got up when she heard Nick leave the bathroom, but by the time
Natalie reached the bedroom door the door to her apartment clicked shut.
Nick had left.  The sun wasn't even quite down yet, and he was gone.
Come to think about it, he very probably had to have arrived after
sunrise that morning as she had left after the sun had come up to run
her errand.

Although tempted to try calling Schanke--or even Janette--Natalie
reminded herself that it would likely only make the night worse for
Nick.  Schanke would surely ask plenty of his own questions of why Nick
hadn't been there.  And if she called Janette and Nick found out...she
suspected it would only anger him, and Nick was likely already dragging
around plenty of suppressed emotions.  He had come to her because he
trusted her...and trusted her not to talk to anyone else about it as she
agreed.

Natalie really hoped Nick was just worrying too much, reading too much
into what might have happened, what he might have done.  She didn't
particularly want to either find out that Nick had forced LaCroix into
having sex or find Nick beaten or worse as a result.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Arriving home from work the following morning, Nick froze seeing
a bottle sitting on the kitchen table, a single, full glass sitting next
to it.  He slowly approached, his eyes darting around the room, looking
for LaCroix.

At first he felt nothing.  Then, abruptly, Nick stiffened.  Slowly
turning around to face LaCroix, all he saw was LaCroix' usual stony
exterior.  At least he didn't see any visible anger.

Walking so that he was again behind his son, now directly behind him
rather than halfway across the room, LaCroix lightly touched the younger
behind the ear.

Uncomfortable at the attention, even fearful, Nick stepped away as
LaCroix' fingers started to trail forward and down, to just under the
collar of his shirt.  Nick was unsure whether it was a caress or
a threat.  Once out of the other's immediate range, Nick again turned to
face LaCroix.  Catching what he believed was a tinge of anger, Nick
averted his gaze and tried to apologise, "I know I screwed--m-messed
up."  He shut his eyes, wincing at the wording, then began to ramble,
"It just happened.  I wanted--I didn't--you were laughing at--teasing
me, and I wanted....  I made it so you couldn't stop me, couldn't push
me away.  I wasn't thinking, LaCroix.  I didn't really realise what
I had done until I woke.  It won't happen again.  It'll never--"  When
LaCroix again approached and pressed his fingers against his lips,
stopping his words, Nick fought the urge to shove the other back.

LaCroix smiled at his son's fear.  "If I had wanted, I could have and
would have stopped you."

"No.  No, I felt it, LaCroix.  You wouldn't have been able to stop me."

At that, LaCroix smirked.  "But if I had spoken, you would have.  If
I had pleaded, you would have stopped."

"But--"

LaCroix cut the other off with a kiss.

Reluctantly, Nick responded to the kiss, but then tried to turn away.
LaCroix wouldn't allow him to, however, at least not easily.  Forcibly
breaking free, Nick backed away.  "Don't, LaCroix.  Please, don't."

Disappointed, LaCroix walked over to the bottle and glass sitting on the
kitchen table.  Picking up the glass, which he had poured soon before
his son had arrived, LaCroix slowly headed back toward Nick.  Taking
a sip of the blood, LaCroix commented, "I would never force you, you
know that."

Nick slowly shook his head, wishing the other would just leave.  While
LaCroix had never physically forced him into being intimate, LaCroix had
forced in other ways, other areas of his life to the point he didn't
believe it would never happen.

"You do remember, don't you?  Your hesitancy at first?"  LaCroix walked
around Nick, stopping behind the other.  "But I didn't push you into
doing anything.  Urged, perhaps, but you allowed it, willingly.  We
spent days at a time together.  Enjoyed one another more than our prey,
didn't we?"  Continuing to circle Nick, LaCroix stopped once again in
front of his son.  Reaching forward, he unfastened the top two buttons
on Nick's shirt, and then playfully touched the skin beneath.

Nick leaned his head back in unwilling pleasure.  Now was not the time
for this, however, and he turned, pulling away from the other.  He
didn't put any more distance between them, though, just broke the
physical contact.

LaCroix smiled and took a sip out of his glass, watching his son tense
and focus on the blood.

Not asking, Nick took the glass from LaCroix and quickly finished it
off.  The blood calmed his nervousness, slightly relaxing him.  LaCroix
wasn't mad.  Not in the slightest, from what he could tell, which oddly
just made it difficult to relax any further.

Taking the glass back, LaCroix walked back to the table, setting it
down.  "When I came by earlier, I noticed you were out," LaCroix stated,
glancing to the bottle of blood.  "There are another three bottles in
your refrigerator."

Nick nodded, but couldn't bring himself to thank LaCroix.  It was, after
all, human blood; something that while he enjoyed, he would have to
refuse once this was over.  And refusal would be so much easier if there
was none within reach....  He had decided that for sure while at
Natalie's.  This would end once the undercover assignment ended.  It's
not that he didn't want it, want the closeness, but it was messing not
only with his feeling of control, but with what he perceived.  He didn't
feel like himself any more.

"You also left a few things, such as this," LaCroix said, pulling his
son's wallet out of his pocket and setting it on the table.  With his
other hand, LaCroix held up his own wallet.  "I already found mine,
Nicholas.  It would have been nice if you had returned it, but I suppose
leaving it on the table here was good enough.  No need to worry."

"LaCroix, I--"

"Stop this pointless, self-induced emotional flogging of yourself."

Nick started to protest again, but was cut off.

"Now, Nicholas!  You have no need for apologies."  With a smirk, LaCroix
walked back to his son.  "I rather enjoyed...you."

Nick stiffened, feeling ill at ease with LaCroix' positive mood.  Not
once had LaCroix mentioned the statement he had recklessly forgotten the
previous night.  Not even a hint, and it just felt wrong.  When LaCroix
took yet another step toward him, Nick shook his head.  "Not today,
LaCroix.  Please."

Eyes closed, LaCroix stopped, saddened.  "May I at least stay the day?"

"Yes."

LaCroix resumed his attentions, touching Nick's neck, then leaned in
closer.  "Is this off limits, too?"

"No."

LaCroix kissed his son's skin again.  "And tomorrow?"

The half-glass of blood Nick had drunk did little to keep his calm.
Even as LaCroix tried to catch his gaze, he kept his attention far from
LaCroix.

Walking around his son, LaCroix whispered into the other's ear,
"Tomorrow, will our little respite be done with?"

Nick closed his eyes as LaCroix pulled him back, kissing his neck once
more.  "Yes," he whispered, although he was unsure if the answer was
conscious or subconscious.

LaCroix took a step back, pleased.  "Good."


Conceded Inhibitions - (12/13)

"Detective Schanke?"

Schanke looked up, seeing Cohen standing, holding the door to her office
open.

"I need to speak to you for a moment."

Cautiously, Schanke approached.  "Captain, I'm technically on lunch...."

"I know."  Cohen stepped off to the side, pushing her door open further.
"Please, Detective."

Schanke entered, shifting nervously as Cohen closed the door behind him.
"This is about Nick, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's about your partner."  Cohen walked over to her desk, sitting
down in her chair.  "I suggest you take a seat."

"Did something happen?" Schanke asked, for a moment frozen, taking only
a step forward.

"If you're asking if he's still alive, yes.  But something did happen.
Please, sit down."

Nervously, Schanke did so.  "So, what's this about?"

"Two officers from the 23rd recognised your partner at the Raven, half
an hour ago.  They observed some questionable behaviour and reported it
to their Captain.  The two officers are being told not to spread it
around, but you know how fast rumours can start."

Schanke nodded.  Yeah, he knew, and Nick wasn't exactly off-limits when
it came to rumours.

"It's just a warning; but I want you to tell your partner that he is
pushing it.  For one, it's too dangerous as he's alone and will likely
be targeted soon; for another, it's unneeded, as it's already almost
assured that Knight will be the target.  Your partner is under enough
stress with this assignment without anything to add to it.  He's been
lucky in that it hasn't really spread through the department, but it's
bad enough we haven't been able to track this guy yet without your
partner doing his own thing and possibly putting himself in even more
danger."

Schanke nodded again.  According to Natalie it looked like the suspect
had used at least one disguise--she had found a couple of strands of
synthetic black hair.  It didn't for certain belong to the suspect, but
it would explain why no one seemed to see any one person watching his
partner.  Unfortunately, that meant Nick would be bait right up until
whenever the suspect came to kill him.  Schanke had tried talking to
Nick about that, but he just got told not to worry and then to drop it
when he pressed it.  Standing, Schanke started a bit blankly for the
door.

"Schanke, you might want to tell your partner.  Now, before he returns
to the precinct?"

"Yeah, yeah.  We need to talk to Mrs. McClure again, anyway," he said in
excuse.  Mrs. McClure's husband had suffered a fall...their latest
victim.  "I'll pick Nick up and we'll head over there."  Schanke left,
and then went over to Nick's desk.  Pulling open a drawer he grabbed
Nick's car keys--the other had left them when he left for his lunch
break--and headed toward the Caddy.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Walking into the Raven, Schanke quickly realised Nick wasn't there--or
wasn't visible.  Spotting Nick's friend, Janette, he headed straight for
her.  "Janette, I need to talk to Nick."

Slowly, Janette sat her glass on the bar and turned around to face the
clueless mortal.  "Nicolas is...unavailable."

"I know he's here, Janette."

"I'm sure he won't be long, Detect--"

"Please, Janette, at least tell him I'm here and that I've got his car,"
Schanke said, dangling Nick's car keys.

Janette stiffened, but nodded and went to her apartment, where the two
had vanished about fifteen minutes before.  She knew she had to at least
make an attempt to speak to Nick.  This mortal could be irritatingly
persistent.

After walking into her home Janette froze as she caught a glance of....
Cautiously, she approached closer, but it only confirmed what she
thought.  Nick had LaCroix on his back, their sire splayed out on her
sofa.  When LaCroix' gaze caught hers, just for a second before
returning to the odd blissful state she had seen upon entering, Janette
backed up and headed quickly back into the club, still stunned.

Schanke saw Janette approach, quickly asking, "So, you tell him?"

Tense, Janette evenly stated, "I'm sure he will be down soon."  Looking
away, Janette reached for the glass she had sat on the counter when the
mortal had entered, taking a large sip to calm her frazzled nerves.  She
couldn't believe that LaCroix would ever allow anyone, even Nick, to do
what she had seen.

"Janette?"

"Hmm?" she responded, the acknowledgement terse.

"Are you okay?  You seem--"

"I am fine, Detective.  Just a little...annoyed with Nicolas at the
moment."

Schanke nodded.  "I know the feeling."  Taking a deep breath, he let his
attention stray, and he wandered away from the bar.  There was something
about the Raven that just made him uncomfortable.  Schanke shifted his
attention back to Janette, only to be distracted as Nick and LaCroix
came into the club from the same door Janette had slipped into.

Janette stiffened as LaCroix' eyes met hers.  With what she had stumbled
upon, she was glad when LaCroix silently left.  Then, focusing on Nick,
she managed an almost bemused smile.  "Enjoying yourself without me,
Nicolas?"

Nick pressed a finger against Janette's lips before she could say
anything more.  LaCroix would be murderous if it somehow got out that
they were switching roles now, that LaCroix wasn't taking the more
dominant role every time.

"There you are, Nick."

Hearing Schanke's voice, Nick sent Janette a warning glare before
spinning to face his partner.  "What, Schank?"

"I'll tell you in the car," Schanke answered, tossing Nick's keys at his
partner.

Nick caught the keys, tensing as he watched Schanke head toward the
club's main doors.  Following, he quietly got into his car, barely
glancing at Schanke, who was already sitting and waiting for him.

As Nick started the engine, Schanke said, "Don't go back to the
precinct.  I told Cohen we were going to talk to Mrs. McClure."

A bit angry that Schanke had found him and hadn't consulted him about
going to the McClure's--just what he wanted at midnight, a grieving
widow with two young children--Nick remained silent for about three
blocks before snapping, "And what else did she want you to do?"

"What?"

"You talked to Cohen before you came to get me."

"Well, yeah..."

"And?"

Schanke set his jaw.  Nick was getting to be a pain in the ass.  "Two
officers spotted you and LaCroix at the Raven.  They reported what they
saw, Nick."

Slowly, Nick's muscles relaxed.  They had been seen, and his
relationship with LaCroix would likely be all over the force within
a day or two, if that.  At least he wasn't being told Cohen was about to
chew him out.  It was a warning.

"They were told not to spread it around.  But--"

"That doesn't mean much."

Schanke nodded.  "They don't know about the undercover
assignment...everyone will know.  Cohen...well, she thinks it might be
a good idea for you to back off with LaCroix a bit.  We already know
this guy is going to target you; the ballistics on the bullet from the
Raven matched the others."

Agreeing with a quiet, "Yeah," Nick's focus slid away from work, his
partner, and even his present task of driving.  Soon, this would be
over.  A week or two longer, if the pattern held...and then he would
have to somehow end his relationship with LaCroix.  He didn't want to,
but could feel himself slipping ever closer into his darker nature.  Too
far.  He had hoped maybe things would be different this time, and they
had been, in a way, but he was hearing more and more faint criticisms
from LaCroix about his work, his growing hesitancy to drink human blood.
It would be better to end it now than in a few more weeks or months at
best...when everything would just blow up and they'd probably try to
kill one another.

"So, what did Janette say to you?"

Nick snapped out of his thoughts.  "What?"

"Janette?  At the Raven, before you left?"

Nick shut his eyes for a second, remembering the faintly taunting but
almost amused words.  "Nothing," he whispered, quickly refocusing on the
road.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Nearly a week after he and LaCroix had been seen at the Raven Nick was
surprised that he heard very few whispers about him at work.  But,
despite the quietness, the hushed comments were still there, and it was
clear that at least a few people had issues with him; some were
suspicious, as he wasn't exactly a push-over.  He didn't fit the
stereotype...which was a large part of why he had been asked to be bait
to begin with.

Once home Nick took the elevator up thinking about relaxing for a few
minutes, not sure if LaCroix would have gotten his message or not.  When
the door was pulled open, revealing LaCroix, however, he got his answer.

"I would have known without having to be told, Nicholas."

Nick smiled, but he tensed when LaCroix approached him.  "Not today,
LaCroix."

"Then why did you ask me here?" LaCroix hissed, his voice mixed with
disappointment and rage.

"I'm being followed, LaCroix."

LaCroix sneered and strode away from his son.  As usual, the younger
vampire's want to help the mortals would ruin this.

"He's being watched, or they're trying to watch him, but there's still
no proof this is the guy.  There's no reason to bring him in or arrest
him.  We have to wait until he acts, if he acts, otherwise....  We need
something...probable cause."

LaCroix laughed as he spun back to face his son.  "And you don't want
your co-workers to find us together.  Is that it?  *If* he acts you want
to avoid uncomfortable questions."

Nick lowered his gaze.  Why did LaCroix have to sometimes precisely know
his thoughts?

"So I am here to...wait?"

"No," Nick replied without hesitation, his gaze rising to meet LaCroix'
eyes.  "And, again, we don't know when this guy will act, or if it's
even the right one.  We don't even have an ID on the man in the car.
Following him hasn't worked so far, as we think he's switching cars,
maybe even using disguises.  But he--or someone--has been seen outside
both my place and yours.  I...just thought you'd prefer if your life
weren't intruded upon more than it already was."

LaCroix silently appreciated his son's thoughtful consideration, but it
didn't change that he no longer felt he had a reason to be there.  He
would not sit around and wait, listening to his son's so-called reasons.
As Nick turned away from him, LaCroix let his anger show for a split
second, and then he left the same way he entered, through the skylight.

Suddenly realising that LaCroix had left, Nick turned only to see
a shadow pass over the skylight.  LaCroix was gone.  Shutting his eyes,
Nick forced back his anger.  He hadn't wanted LaCroix to leave.  But he
had waited too long to express his wishes.

Opening his eyes, Nick searched for something to throw, but the only
available item was the full bottle of blood sitting on the kitchen
table.  LaCroix must have brought it.  And however much he wished to
throw it, he knew he would now need that blood to calm his anger.
Shattering it and spilling the blood contained within it would do
nothing to help him.

"Damnit, LaCroix," Nick hissed under his breath, spying the brightening
sky through the window.  Stalking over to the remote, Nick closed the
blinds, then nearly threw the device at the metal shutter.  Instead, he
dropped it onto the couch and walked over to the bottle of blood,
yanking the cork out with his teeth.

Drinking deeply of the human blood, Nick closed his eyes but felt no
better.  This was not what he wanted, nor was expecting to have.  It was
not enough.  Or, as he was realising more and more of late, it was too
much.  It was all too much.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Nick sat at his desk, staring blankly at the form in front of him,
trying to not listen to the whispers on the other side of the precinct.

While several days had since passed, the night after LaCroix left he had
received an unwelcome comment from another detective about his
sexuality.  Without thinking, he had gone as far as slamming the other
back against the lockers.  He had expected the action would have been
enough, but he was so much on edge that when the other continued to
taunt him he didn't want to deal with it.  And so he changed the other
detective's mind rather forcefully.

And, although he had yet to have any other direct comments, apparently
someone had seen him during his confrontation with the other detective.
Plenty was being said about that as well.

He and LaCroix had been on better terms, although LaCroix wasn't
exactly...pleased that he refused to do much more than share blood with
him of late.  It's not that he didn't want to continue the lack of
restraint they had fallen prey to, but he wanted to keep his senses as
free of distractions as possible.

Unfortunately, that wasn't working as he had hoped.  The abrupt change
meant his thoughts strayed back to LaCroix more often than before.  And
with the more limited access to LaCroix' blood--LaCroix was taking more
of his blood than he was taking of his sire's--last night he had even
gone to see Janette.  He hadn't had much choice as anything short of
another vampire's blood seemed to do more harm than good.  LaCroix
hadn't been pleased at that, either; except for LaCroix noting that he
wished he would act on his wants more often like he had only days
before.

"Knight?"

Nick looked up and saw Cohen walk back into her office.  Bracing
himself, wondering what this would be about, Nick went to the office
door.  "Yeah, Captain?"

"Come in and close the door."

After doing so, Nick approached Cohen's desk.  "Have they found the
guy?"

"No.  The last car seen outside your place was ditched after it was
reported stolen."

"He's going to act," Nick guessed and turned away, still on edge from
his thoughts before Cohen called him into her office.  After a pause, he
stated, "He's thought this through; because I'm a cop.  He doesn't plan
on getting caught, Captain, and that means he'll have to act soon.
Especially if he realises I'm being watched by more than just him."

"Nick, I want someone with you at all times."

Nick spun around, shaking his head.  "If he's watching my place, they'll
be seen and he'll know something is up."  Closing his eyes, Nick
abruptly suggested, "LaCroix can get in without being seen if someone
needs to be with me."

"He's not a cop, Knight.  As far as I'm concerned, him being there would
be a liability."

"Captain, I'll take full responsibility if something goes wrong," Nick
pleaded, fully aware that LaCroix would be there come morning.  If
another stayed, he risked them seeing too much.  "Please, Captain.  We
don't want to scare him away and pick another target."

Cohen breathed out.  "Knight--"

"*He's not a liability.  Anyone else would tip the suspect off,*" Nick
pushed rather recklessly.  "*You agree with my suggestion.*"

Cohen just stared forward, completely zoned out.  "Agree with--"

"*Thank you, Captain,*" Nick finished and quickly left.


Conceded Inhibitions - (13/13)

Three nights later Nick stepped out of the elevator upon arriving home
and smiled.  LaCroix was there, somewhere, hiding from him.  Closing his
eyes, he immediately knew where LaCroix was--his bedroom.  After taking
off his jacket and dropping it on the back of the couch, he took a few
more steps before flying up to the second level.

The last several days, he and LaCroix had spent time together
immediately before and after his shift, both aware it was unlikely
anything eventful would happen when he'd most likely be awake.  The
other victims had, after all, been killed in their sleep.

Their relationship had resumed the frantic recklessness from a week
before, as he had little want or even the ability to stop it.  Not yet.
While Nick knew this would merely make the end harder, and while he knew
he probably shouldn't join LaCroix now as was expected and they both
wanted, he continued into his room.  He had no intention or wish to do
as he should.

Nick flashed his fangs at LaCroix, who had apparently been waiting for
him long enough to undress, and he watched the other grin in return.

"Anything to concern us?"

"Just more...waiting."

LaCroix smiled.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Midday, Nick awoke to a hand covering his mouth, pressure on his back
holding him down.  Panic and the want to kill washed through him until
he realised it was LaCroix.

"Someone is here, Nicholas."

Nick nodded as LaCroix let go of him, then turned his head to silently
gesture for LaCroix to move out of sight.  As LaCroix pulled the covers
up over him, Nick then again relaxed, closing his eyes as he lay on his
stomach, head turned to one side, pretending to be asleep.

Several minutes passed before Nick sensed the mortal enter the room.  He
froze, tensing slightly as the mortal approached.  As the footsteps
paused, Nick prepared to turn over, but the instant he moved something
sliced into his side, right into a kidney.  Nick gasped, then he felt
the knife pulled out as quickly as it had been stabbed into him.

Turning, the sharpness of his pain already starting to fade, Nick saw
his attacker, dagger still somehow in hand, being pulled back by
LaCroix...his sire ready to drain the man.  "Don't, LaCroix!"

The man shirked back, seemingly surprised, as Nick easily stood and
approached him.  "I-I stabbed you!"

"And you shot me," LaCroix hissed, gripping the man tighter, the knife
now dropping to the floor.

Nick closed his eyes, and listened, but they were alone.  All he could
hear was LaCroix shutting the man up with his voice, hypnotising him
into silence.  No more yelling the obvious, at least.  He went back to
his nightstand and picked up a radio--his zapping of Cohen had only
partially worked, and she had insisted on having officers nearby at
least, and that he contact them regularly by radio--and used it to
notify the other officers of an intruder.  Waiting, Nick wondered how
the man had snuck by beyond that he had probably walked there.  No car
to be spotted.  If not for what he was and LaCroix being there, he'd be
dead.

Suddenly hearing the sounds of the stairwell door opening and two
officers entering, Nick quickly grabbed his robe.  He slipped it on to
conceal the severity of the wound, went to the bedroom door, and called
the two men up to where they were.  Then Nick carefully but forcefully
pulled the man from LaCroix' grasp.  It was difficult as LaCroix seemed
reluctant to release the easy prey.  Nick shot a short glare at LaCroix
as he held the man's hands behind his back and started for the door,
handing him silently over to the officers, who handcuffed him.  Seeing
LaCroix go to kneel out of the corner of his eye, Nick spun, hissing,
"Don't touch it, LaCroix!"

LaCroix laughed.  He had nearly reached the knife, but he stood back up
and stiffened at his son's order.  "Then I take it our game is done
with, yes?  My cooperation in this is over."

Nick glared at the other, only looking away as the other officer called
his name.

"He keeps saying something about having stabbed--"

"The knife's on the floor over there," Nick answered.  Both he and
LaCroix stood silently as the young mortal carefully picked the knife
up, Nick's blood on the first three inches of the blade, and dropped it
in an evidence bag.  Once the man left the room, Nick headed to the
phone, dialling Natalie's number at the morgue, hoping she was there.
When she picked up, he quickly told her about the knife with his blood
on it--something she'd have to fix and needed to be aware off--and that
he'd like her to come over later.  Getting concurrence, Nick hung up.

"Handy, isn't it, to have a mortal cover up for you?  Keep your life
nice and tidy...."

"Shut up, LaCroix!  You could have stopped him before he stabbed me!"

"I thought you wanted to ensure there would be no doubt he was the one,"
LaCroix answered, smirking and leaving the room.  As his son approached,
looking over the balcony as two more men entered, LaCroix whispered,
"Mortals, touching everything.  I suppose they'll want back up here."

Nick suddenly turned.  "Why?"

"You didn't notice?  Of course not....  But you weren't paying
attention, were you?"  LaCroix laughed, nodding back toward Nick's room.
"He brought more than just the knife.  Very quiet, for a mortal."
LaCroix again smirked, and then moved away from the balcony to sit in
the chair behind him.  "More...evidence, for you."

"It's not my case, LaCroix."

"Might as well be."

"LaCroix--" Nick cut off as one of the detectives, Holloway, reached the
top of the stairs.  Dropping the tone and volume of his voice, Nick
whispered, "Please, just...sit there until this is over."

"Knight?  I saw the knife; are you sure you're okay?"

Nick looked over at Holloway.  "I'll be fine.  It's a shallow cut.  I'll
have Natalie--Dr. Lambert look at the wound later."

"Detective," LaCroix started, getting the mortal's attention.  "You may
wish to check Nicholas' room.  A bag at the foot of the bed."

Holloway passed between the two glaring vampires, and went into the
bedroom.

"Knight!"

Nick looked down to see Cohen.  Definitely not who he wanted to see in
his home right now.  He shut his eyes tight and then, after once more
telling LaCroix to stay there, he descended the stairs.  This was going
to be a long day.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Late that night Nick wasn't at work, but home.  After LaCroix left
rather angrily with the arrival of sunset, Nick knew he had to start
returning things to normal.  He still had part of a bottle of human
blood that LaCroix had left, but nothing more.  It had meant refilling
bottles, which thankfully he had the needed supplies--specifically
a delivery of cow's blood.  He had ordered it when he knew the case
would soon end one way or another.  LaCroix didn't know about this, yet,
that he was aware.  He had been angry simply from the officers invading
the loft.

Nick tensed when Natalie called him on the intercom.  It had gotten late
and he had hoped that, maybe, he would finish his task before she came
by.  Going over to the elevator, he asked Natalie if she was alone
before buzzing her in.

Pushing the elevator door open, Natalie's gaze quickly fell on Nick's
robe, sweatpants, and bare feet walking away from her.  He didn't appear
to have gotten dressed even though it was now closer to dawn than dusk.
"You changed the alarm code."

"Yeah.  I didn't want Schanke coming up.  Or anyone else.  I had to give
it out because of the assignment."

Natalie approached, her eyes distracted by the dozen or so bottles on
the kitchen table, most filled with blood.  It at least explained why
Nick had asked if she was alone and why he didn't want Schanke there.
She had never actually seen him do this particular task herself.  "You
fill your own bottles?"

"Well, can't exactly buy cow's blood by the bottle, can I?"

"I don't know, can you?"

Nick closed his eyes, hearing the stiffness in Natalie's voice.  But
it's not something they had really had a conversation about, so he
answered, "No, I can't."

"This isn't going to be easy, Nick," she said, his name coming out
short.

"I know it won't!" Nick hissed, snapping his attention back on her.
Then, realising the switch back to cow's blood was already starting to
affect him, Nick bowed his head.  "I'm sorry, Nat."

"And I'm sorry I snapped at you.  I'm not trying to--"  She cut off,
pursing her lips.  Despite that Nick was returning to his previous diet,
he seemed...reluctant.  Something.  "Is this really what you want?"

"What?"

Natalie gestured at the table, then forced herself to keep her voice
soft and friendly, not accusatory as she specified, "Cow's blood, trying
to become mortal?"

"Yes.  If it wasn't..."  Nick picked up one of the filled bottles,
tempted to take a sip of the blood right then and there.  Setting it
back down, he continued, "If it wasn't, I'd be long gone by now."

"With LaCroix."

"Yeah."  Nick walked over to the fridge, pulling out the partial bottle
of human blood.  This was even more tempting, but he merely turned the
cold glass in his hands, not looking at it.  "And I wouldn't be drinking
anything out of a bottle, not even this."

"Have you sorted that out yet?  Your relationship with him?"

"No.  LaCroix was rather...angry when he left earlier.  I think he
knows."  Nick glanced down to the bottle, and then held it out toward
Natalie, averting his gaze to the floor.  "Pour it out, Nat."

Concerned by the pained expression on his face, Natalie stepped forward.
"Nick?"

"Just take it and pour it out."  When he felt the bottle being pulled
from his hands, Nick turned away from her.  "I tried earlier, but
couldn't.  I need it gone.  Please, just poor it out.  Right now."

Natalie nodded, going to the sink and, after a bit of trouble getting
the cork out and a passing queasy sensation knowing the blood was human
blood, she poured the bottle's contents into the sink, turned on the
faucet and washed it down the drain.  After rinsing the bottle out, she
left it in the sink and turned back toward Nick, who seemed slightly
calmer.  But she pursed her lips again as she noticed him fingering one
of the bottles of cow's blood.  She was surprised with how he was acting
he hadn't drank from any of them, but she supposed that meant he was
trying--and hard.  "How long does Cohen have you off?"

"Three days.  Four, counting tonight."

"Probably for the best."  Getting a blank nod, she asked, "Just you,
or--"

"Schanke's off, too," he said, finishing Natalie's question.  He was
actually glad Cohen had given him the time off, at least for the next
two nights.  After that, he knew he'd likely fall prey to boredom and
want to return to work...or have something to do beyond mope around his
loft alone.

"Are you, ah, going to talk to LaCroix?"

"I don't know," Nick whispered, not meeting Natalie's gaze.  He had
already decided to go see LaCroix; but he didn't want to see Natalie's
disappointment.  Not right now.  And if she knew the details of his
planned visit....

"You should probably say something to him."

Nick looked up, surprised. "Why?"

"Just...I don't know, some formal ending?  You are going to end it,
right?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, I can't--I wish I could be something more than his most
disappointing child while still living how I want to live.  I thought
maybe it might work at first, but--"  Nick shook his head, shaking those
thoughts away.  "And yeah, I suppose I should see him.  LaCroix left
rather suddenly earlier."  He paused, feeling awkward discussing
something he hadn't yet with LaCroix with Natalie.  "So, am I missing
anything?"

"No, not really.  He's not talking."

"Fingerprints give an ID?"

"Yeah."

"And the knife?"

"From what I can tell, it was the same knife used in the other murders.
It's the right size and composition.  And, Nick, please no more murder
weapons or evidence with vampire blood on it for a while?"

Nick smiled a little.  "I can't make any guarantees."

"Hmm, I know."  Then her mood turned serious again.  "What they found in
the bag he brought will put him away."

"Which was?"

"Ah, what he used to, ah, defile the victims," she said carefully.
Really, it was more what he was going to use to defile his next victim:
Nick.  "Main notable contents are another knife with a shorter blade and
a bat, which I think served more than one purpose.  Both of those were
probably used in the previous murders.  There was also a bottle of cheap
red wine and a change of clothes for himself, probably to aid in getting
away unnoticed.  The only thing he had on him was the knife and a .22.
And, yes, the gun matched."

Nick had tensed at the explanation.  Maybe he should have waited to ask.
But something was missing from her list.  "Was there a note?  With
my...sins."

"Yeah, there was a note," she said, not elaborating.  She probably
didn't have to after telling him what was in the bag, although he'd
surely ask to see it later.  It was mostly just about his relationship
with LaCroix and what the suspect had decided must be a drinking
problem.  Hence the red wine, which Natalie figured Nick either would
problem.  Hence the red wine, which Natalie figured Nick either would
have been force-fed and/or drenched in going by the other murders.  She
rather suspected Nick had never looked at either the autopsy reports on
the previous victims or even the crime scene photos, and she watched
Nick zone out.  He was probably either tired or stunned, or simply
hungry.  He was, after all, in the middle of restocking his pantry so to
speak.  "Ah, you probably want to be alone."

"Yeah, I guess.  I have plenty to do tonight," Nick mumbled, glancing to
the bottles.  He had just started, and it'd be a while longer before he
had emptied the barrel.  Nick closed his eyes, waiting for Natalie to
leave.  As she reached the elevator, sliding the door open and stepping
into the freight, he told her, "If you see Schanke, tell him I'd like to
be left alone, at least for tonight."

Natalie nodded and let the door slide shut.

Nick just stared at the elevator for a while, half-wishing he had told
her to stay.  But, no, he had to finish this.  He'd go by the morgue the
following night if Natalie didn't come by in the morning, which he
rather suspected she wouldn't.  This was the first time she had come by
his place in a while.  Granted, he had spent so much time at LaCroix'
that she could have come by only to find the loft empty....  She had
probably given up on trying to spend any time with him, and he had
missed that.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Near sun-up, LaCroix sensed an unwelcome intrusion into his home.
Without facing his son, he asked, "And you are here because?"

"I think you know why."  Nick approached LaCroix when the other didn't
turn and look at him.

LaCroix laughed, his anger clear in the tone.  "To officially state that
now that this 'game' is over, you won't be...visiting."  LaCroix spun.
"So get out."

Nick ignored LaCroix' order.  "Yes, what's between us will end,
eventually and soon.  I'm not ready for it to end just yet, but if you
want me to go, I will.  Right now.  I'll leave and that'll be it.
I don't want to end this with an argument or some--  I don't want it to
end like before."  Nick almost added that he didn't want it to end at
all, but unless LaCroix could accept that regardless the form of their
relationship he still wanted to become mortal, that he still didn't want
to drink human blood...  It just wouldn't happen.  Watching as LaCroix
gradually calmed, Nick carefully stepped in front of him.  "If you want
me to leave, tell me again, and you can spend the day alone."

LaCroix narrowed his eyes.  "You're serious."

"I'm always serious, LaCroix."

Considering the proposition, LaCroix was tempted to once again tell his
son to get out, but the situation was too complicated.  Slowly circling
the other, LaCroix stopped behind Nick, replying to his son's response,
"Too serious."

"Your answer?"

LaCroix continued walking around the other, stopping once the circle was
complete.  He then smiled, and without a word he bit into his son's
neck, taking the other's sweet life-force without any hint of
unwillingness.

~finis~

jarvinia@gmx.com
http://gryffonslair.com
@>--,---`---