ELUSIVE GAINS
Written August 2004
Posted November 2005
by Jarvinia

This is a Pre-DK story that starts not long after Nick and Nat first
meet.  This story is also a bit of a departure for me in that it is
all from Nat's 'view'.  All I can say is that I don't want to know how
long this would have been if I was writing from both Natalie *and*
Nick's POV (and Schanke's and any others', for that matter....).  :P

I don't own much of any of the characters in this and no harm is
meant.  This story may not be archived without permission; however, if
you'd like to, please do ask. :)

I would like to thank amethystshells for beta-ing, both back while it
was written (the whole thing, as it was written, little pieces at a
time, not always in order), and also for checking a section over a
year after the previous beta.  All mistakes are completely my own, as
I've attacked it many times since and probably added plenty mistakes
back in.

Feedback of all sorts (particularly dark chocolate...) gladly accepted
at: jarvinia@gmx.net

Enjoy!

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

Elusive Gains - (01/26)

Natalie stared into the microscope, but her attention was split.  It
had been for weeks.  This was boring compared to what she would much
rather be looking at, much rather be doing.  She wasn't even finding
anything interesting that might help the detectives out.  Nothing.

The last several weeks had been rather interesting, almost too
interesting.  Why hadn't she taken her birthday off as her co-workers
had suggested, as they had urged and encouraged?  Why hadn't she gone
out and actually done something fun for a change, even if it was just
to order a pizza or get some ice cream?  Something, anything.  And
then gone *home*.  Then she wouldn't be in this situation.  She
wouldn't be worrying, wouldn't be nervous and anxious.

But did she really wish she didn't go in to work that night, hadn't
been there when he was brought in?  Then she never would have seen
him.  He would have just vanished, without her ever having the hint at
what she now knew.  Just a missing body, if even that.

She had barely considered what would have happened if she had not been
at work that night, barely considered how different her thoughts would
be.  Not that she particularly minded, but however much she tried to
distract herself, her thoughts kept straying back to her certain
uninvited--but all too intriguing--guest.

Someone had sat up, alive, on her table.  And this someone had been
dead.  Very dead.  Worse, according to him he was still dead.  Or
maybe undead would be better, considering his proclamation that he
was, supposedly, a vampire?

This final bit of information had so many implications she didn't want
to think about them all.  But that wasn't to say that she had not
attempted it.  If he was a real, bona fide vampire, what else existed
that had been turned into myth?  What else was out there that science
hadn't even touched upon?

And then there was a more immediate question.  Did she believe him?
Did she believe that he really was a vampire, or that vampires even
existed?  Could she?

She didn't know what to believe anymore.  And he had told her nothing
to help her make a decision.  She had, however, seen him changed, seen
him nearly spotless after receiving fatal injuries and being declared
dead, and seen him ingest human blood.

Yet, she didn't know his name let alone how to contact him.  The one
thing she did know was roughly how old he was.  He had referred to his
'eight hundred year-old body', which put his age at about that, give
or take a quarter of a century or so, maybe even more depending on how
much he was rounding off.  When you passed five hundred, did you start
rounding up once you hit five hundred and fifty?

The thought that a human--or something very close to a human--could
live for centuries was beyond amazing.  And yet, for what she knew of
vampires, or of myths about vampires, they were essentially immortal. 
But what did she really know about them?  Really?  What did the myths
know?  What did anyone know?

Natalie pulled back from the microscope and turned to go back to her
desk.  And then she jumped when she found the subject of her pondering
merely feet away, staring at her, almost as if he knew what she was
thinking.  How long had he been watching her?

After a few seconds, Natalie quickly pushed away her feelings of
surprise and greeted him, "Good evening."  She focused on him, waiting
for him to answer and watching his every reaction.  Instead of
replying in kind to her words, he started examining the room, smoothly
gliding around the room, inspecting it.  She followed his movements,
stiffening when he eventually turned his solid and harsh gaze silently
onto her.  Doing her best to match his gaze, Natalie stated, "I'm a
bit surprised to see you here."

"Why?"

Doing her best to ignore the hostility in his tone, she told him,
"Because you don't like me knowing what you are.  And because you
seemed hesitant at the idea of me helping you.  Frankly, I'm surprised
you don't just vanish, leaving me to chalk everything up to dreams or
hallucinations."  A second later, she stepped back when he took a step
closer to him, his facial expression turning quickly darker and even
less friendly, despite the near smile he displayed.

"That's all I am.  A dream.  A hallucination."

Natalie stared at him.  Part of her wanted to repeat what he said word
for word without hesitation...but another part of her told her his
assertion was nothing but a lie.  Which made her ask just how much of
this was a lie, anyway?

"You won't remember me."

"I won't...."

"None of this happened.  None of this is real."

Natalie opened her mouth to speak again, but found she couldn't repeat
what he said.  This had happened, and was still happening.  And it was
very, very real.  He was standing right in front of her.  He had
already tried hypnotising her that night when they had first met.  She
remembered it better than ever now, as he told her he didn't exist, as
he told her he had never died and that vampires didn't exist.  And it
had nearly worked.  She had nearly forgotten all about him.  If he had
only left things alone.  If only he hadn't tested her a few nights
later....  But he had and her memories of their first meeting had come
back to her full strength.  There was no way she would forget this
anytime soon.

"Forget, Doctor."

"You've already tried this before, remember?" she coldly asked as she
kept his attention fully and steadily on him.  Natalie watched hints
of anger flicker in his eyes.  There was some surprise, perhaps
because she once again resisted, but it was mostly anger.  He
remembered all this just as well as she did.  Perhaps even better, as
she sometimes wondered if her doubt was entirely her own or partially
the remnants of his meddling...and she would not let him increase that
doubt any more.  "I am not going to forget any of this.  You know
that."

"You should."

"Is that what you want me to do?  Forget?  Pretend that none of this
ever happened and that you're nothing more than a figment of my
imagination?"

"Yes, that would be best."

Natalie pursed her lips.  He was avoiding her question, and yet he
kept dropping hints for her, teasing her.  "Okay.  If 'it would be
best,' then why are you here?  You already knew you couldn’t make me
forget.  You could have just left.  I'm sure that would have made
things easier for you.  But you knew I would like to help you, and
that's why you're here, isn't it?"

"How can you be sure that's why I'm here?" he snapped.

Natalie stiffened.  Was she sure?  How could she be?  She didn't even
know him.  Ignoring the question, she replied with, "I know that I'll
do what I can to help you, if you'll let me and if that is what you're
here for."

"Do you know what, exactly, you're offering your help for?"

"From what you've stated, you believe yourself to be evil, cursed.
You want to do something about it, to change it."  She watched him
look away.  But it was better than the quick replies he had previously
given.  "You seemed to like the idea that what you are is based in
science, drawn by the possibility that you might possibly be cured
through it, even if you won't admit it.  You see me as a manner in
which to explore that and, as I've told you, I am willing to help
you."

"It's not as simple as you think."

"I never said it was simple, just that if you'll let me that I would
try to help."

"Really, Doctor; you see me as an interesting project, a challenge."

Natalie didn't answer, found she could not with the near accusatory
glare directed at her, daring her to lie and refute those words.  How
could she, when she had stated as much during their last encounter?

"And I suppose you would like the full details of that challenge?"

Natalie wasn't sure what to say to this.  He was still baiting
her...and details are what she was after.  She didn't like playing
along, but what choice did she have if she wanted to continue this?
"Yes, I would."

"I want to reverse it."

Natalie just stared at him.  His reply was so...calm, so definite.
Was he serious?  Did he mean what she thought he meant?  If so....

"It's more than just wanting to be at peace, wanting to end my hunger
or walk in the sunlight.  More even than a simple cure of the
symptoms.  I want it completely gone.  I want to destroy the vampire
so that it will never return.  What I want is to become mortal again."

He was serious--one hundred percent serious.  It was in his tone, in
his expression, even his stance.  This wasn't some whim, but something
deeper.

"Am I correct in that this is enough of a challenge for you?"

"Yes," she quickly answered, not wanting him to retract the question. 
"Yes, it is.  And I'll take it."

"No.  I won't take your answer tonight."

Natalie nearly told him to stop trying to make up her mind for
her...until she realised that he wasn't.  It was a statement.
Granted, a statement she didn't have any chance in altering, but he
wasn't forcing her to pick one way or the other.  He wasn't telling
her she should forget about him and have nothing to do with him and
what he was.  Not yet, anyway.  She watched him start to turn, at
which she reached her hand out toward him, only for him to easily
evade her.  When he turned to glare at her expectedly, she asked, "How
and when will you hear my response?"

"I will return in a few days.  You can answer then."  He turned and
started for the exit again.

"Wait!"

He stopped in the doorway, one hand holding the door open.

Natalie hesitated ever so slightly, stunned that he hadn't just left
anyway.  "You haven't even told me your name."

"No, I haven't."

Natalie opened her mouth again, but he slid out of the door before she
could protest.  He wasn't going to tell her his name, not yet.  All
she knew about him was that he was a vampire who wanted to cease being
a vampire.  That in itself was hard to understand when she looked at
the general facts.  To her, being a vampire had a lot more pluses to
it than minuses.

But she wasn't a vampire, hadn't lived as a vampire...nor did she even
know much about real, living vampires.  What right did she have to
decide what he should prefer?

She didn't know him.  She didn't even know his name.


Elusive Gains - (02/26)

A week and a half later, Natalie abruptly jumped as she entered her
lab.  He was sitting at her desk, waiting.  He had taken longer than
he had said it would be before he came and long enough that she was
wondering whether he might just vanish without a word.  In fact, she
was afraid he had already decided to do just that.

"So, you decided to come back for an answer," she said, allowing some
of her annoyance to slip into her tone.

"Yes."

"What took you so long?"  He just stared at her.  She seriously
doubted he wanted to talk about anything other than what he was or,
more specifically, why he was here.  That she could deal with.  If
that's what he wanted to do, she would go along with it.  "Fine.
Don't answer."

"Have you taken time to consider the full implications of your offer
more thoroughly?"

"You know what my answer is.  It hasn't changed."

"Are you sure you have considered this...very carefully?"

Natalie set her jaw.  Of course she had considered it carefully.  She
had been flipping this over in her mind since the very first time he
had even touched on that he wasn't human, ever since he had shown a
dislike for what he was.  The last week and a half had only made her
decision firmer and more certain.  Why did he even have to ask?

"Have you?"

"Of course," she answered, matching his somewhat curt tone.

"And you think you can make me mortal again?"

"Yes."

"Truly?  I will know if you lie."

Natalie hesitated.  What did he mean by he would know if she lied?
How would he know?  And, really, would he know?  She wouldn't put it
past him to lie just in order for her to answer truthfully.  In fact,
he could have already lied about more than just this.  She had only
his word on anything.  As far as she knew, he could be playing some
kind of sick game with her that would end in her dead and drained of
blood.  She had considered that, but the temptation was too great.

"Do you truly believe there's even a chance you could succeed?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"I believe I can.  It might take time, but I'll do everything I can to
help you."

"Time."

"Yes.  Something you have plenty of, I gather?"

"That's one way to put it."

Natalie watched him look away, and it was then that she noticed the
papers on top of her desk had been shifted as though someone had
rummaged through them.  They were shuffled into a single, sloppy pile-
-and there had been nothing resembling a pile on her desk for weeks.
He had probably gone through her desk and who knows what else.  "What
were you looking for?"  His eyes snapped up to her, gold in colour.
If it hadn't been for her own anger, she would have stepped back.  As
it was, she marched up to the front of the desk so that only a few
feet separated them.  "You were looking through my things."

"And?"

"And this is my desk.  You have no right to--"

"I have every right."

Natalie tensed, his tone clearly threatening.  "Then give me your
reason."  She watched him lean back in her chair, only for him to
sharply remind her of a CEO of some company by the way he seemed to
own her desk.  "Tell me what you were doing or get out."

She watched as he stiffened at the words, but he didn't even shift in
the chair, not even to sit up or lean forward.

Natalie could barely believe what she had told him, but he was getting
on her nerves for waiting so long to stop in again.  At the same time,
he hadn't yet left.  In fact, she could see him thinking, considering
his response.  He was stalling.

"You were...correct in that I suspected your answer," he finally
spoke.

"And?"

"And I wanted to make sure you didn't have anything lying around that
could cause trouble."

Hearing that, she almost wished she had done something, anything.  But
she didn't even record in a tape of her thoughts.  At the time, even
though she wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, she knew that if
he really was a vampire that it would be dangerous--for both of them--
if she had any incriminating evidence on hand.  And that was probably
what he had been looking for.  He wanted to know that she wasn't
careless.

"I'm sure you have questions."

Natalie's lips parted.  Did he really just say what she thought he
had?  "Uh, yeah.  Yeah, I do."  Somewhat calmer, she started, "Perhaps
we should start from the beginning.  I'm--"

"Dr. Natalie Lambert," he quickly said.  "I know your name.  I learned
it soon after our first...meeting."

"And you are?"

"Nick."

"Nick," she repeated, his name so utterly normal.  It was also
informal and generic.  "Nick...what?"

"Just Nick."

"Is a last name too much to ask for?"

"Yes."

Pursing her lips, Natalie inwardly scoffed at his offer to answer her
questions.  What was the chance that she would get a semi-straight
answer to anything?  Right now, she was betting it was a low
percentage, if anything.

"How much do you know about vampires?  Myths of us."

Now she was the one being asked the questions.  But this one she
didn't mind.  In a way, he was offering her a way to satisfy her
curiosity just as well as any questions.  "Well, they're generally
nocturnal, burn or otherwise die from exposure to sunlight.  And
judging by that I've only seen you at night, that one's true, isn't
it?"

"Yes.  And yes, it can kill me, or at least burn me."

"Then there's the ever prominent stakes...."

"A stake through the heart will kill just about anything, though,
won't it?"

"Well, yes...."  Natalie thought quickly.  It felt like Nick was
trying to test her.  "But would a knife through the heart kill you?
You're essentially immortal, right?"

"No, a knife through the heart would not kill me.  Not permanently.
And yes, essentially immortal.  I do not age nor die through...typical
means."

"Decapitation, although that I suspect would kill just about
anything."

"Yes."

"Which just proves you must need oxygen to survive, on some level."

"But I don't need it."

"I think you probably do."

"Fine.  Explain it, then."

Caught slightly off-guard, Natalie paused before responding, "Well,
oxygen is carried in the blood to the brain, and decapitation would
likely cut that supply off indefinitely.  Perhaps that is why it kills
a vampire.  You still need to have oxygen in your blood and in your
brain however efficient your body processes it and however your body
obtains it."

She watched him nearly respond to that, halting at the second thing
she said.  She had caught him.

"Whatever the case, it's something that kills more than just
vampires."

"It's unimportant."

"It's very important, Nick.  It's something I might be able to
eventually use to help you."

Nick stiffened.  "What else have you heard about my kind?"

"Garlic, mirrors, uh...holy water, crucifixes...."  She racked her
brain, knowing there were more.  "Then, uh, something about running
water, some kinds of roses, and turning into bats?  And probably more,
really, but I'm not sure what's real and what isn't."

Nick nodded.  "They are a mixture of truth and myth."

"But which is which?"

"The first have basis on us, the last three do not."

"So, no garlic-laden pizza, huh?" she asked, hoping to lighten his
mood a little.  But he just glared at her, his gaze, if anything,
turning darker.  "Sorry, I just thought--"

"If you are to help me, I ask that you remain professional."

Natalie nodded.  If she had to remain professional to do this, then
she would.  If only she could get that harsh gaze of his to soften, or
at least not look so coldly at her....  It made her nervous.  "Well
then, I suppose you'd like to give me a blood sample so I can see--"

"No."

"What?"

"No blood samples."

How could he not let her take a blood sample?  He wanted to work with
her, she thought, because she was a doctor and scientist.  But...what
was going on?  "I need a blood sample, Nick."

"No, you don't."

"How am I supposed to examine what you are without knowing more about
your physiological make up?"

"Because science alone can't explain what I am.  You can work without
a blood sample."  He stood up, walking past Natalie, turning just
before he reached the door.  "When would you like me to return?"

"Nick, I--"

"When would you like me to return?" he repeated, and then paused for a
second before continuing, "I think it unwise to continue this
conversation tonight."

Natalie swallowed.  What choice did she have if she wished to continue
this?  "This Thursday, nine o'clock.  It's my night off, so we'll have
more time.  Perhaps we could meet somewhere else?"

"No.  We will meet here."

"Okay....  Does the time work, then?"

Nick gave a single, stiff nod, and then quickly left.

Natalie sighed.  Why did he have to be so rigid, so horribly cold?
And yet, things were going as well as she suspected they could.  Nick
was a vampire, and she really didn't know exactly what that did to
someone.  Maybe the coldness of his tone was inherent in what he was;
maybe he couldn't help it.

But his tone, his very words and reactions...they had to be
deliberate.  And he seemed to have total control.  Too much control.

In the end, despite the surprise meeting and bad ending, things had
gone moderately well.  At least she had a name--and a set date and
time for a next meeting.


Elusive Gains - (03/26)

That coming Thursday night, Natalie arrived at the morgue at nearly a
quarter till nine in the hope of getting some things together before
Nick arrived, only to find him already there, waiting for her.  "What
are you doing here, Nick, it's--"

"You still insist that what I am can be defined only by science?"

Natalie put her things down.  "Well, yes.  You are alive, Nick.  And I
haven't seen anything that I don't think could have some reasonable
explanation."

"Then you now know why I came early."

Having no idea what he was trying to say, she asked, "Okay, why?"

"To prove something."

Natalie watched him glance toward the counter, her eyes in turn
locking on a square, aged, metal-framed mirror sitting, leaning
against the wall.  Nick must have brought it.  "And what is this
supposed to prove?"  She watched him walk over in front of it.  And of
course, she saw nothing as they weren't yet at the right angle to the
mirror to see one another in it.  And then he stepped a few steps
further, then a few more, and a few more.  Once he finally came to a
stop far on the other side of the mirror, she realised she should have
seen his reflection flit past in the glass by now.  "Wait a
minute...."  She moved so that she now stood directly in front of the
mirror.  "Come and stand in front of me."  When he did so, Natalie
glanced past him to the mirror, her eyes widening.  Nick didn't
reflect in it, all she saw was herself looking around...nothing.

"Please, Doctor, explain."

"Uh, well...I can't, Nick.  Not right this moment, anyway."  She
looked straight at him.  "And you know I can't.  That's what this is
for, isn't it?  To show that I'm wrong."

"Vampires are not a product of science.  I am not a product of
science."

"Then why are you going to allow me to help you if you still think
science can't explain what you are?"

"For the same reason you wish to help me.  If I am not evil, as you
say, there must be an explanation.  While I have not yet seen science
provide an explanation, that is not to say that I don't think it will
never be able to."

"And the mirror?"

"To show that this is more complicated than you believe.  You neither
do nor can fully understand what I am, but I feel it necessary for you
to know that there are things that even I can't explain.  I cannot
explain why I do not reflect, nor can I explain precisely why crosses
affect my kind.  It's just the way I am."

Natalie again looked into the mirror.  "But...I've seen you reflect,"
she said, turning back to him.  "You reflect off glass, off all the
metal surfaces in here.  I'm sure of it."

"But those are merely shadows of a reflection.  Sometimes I reflect as
normal as any mortal, but often I don't reflect at all."

"I see that."  She took one more glance at the mirror, at the empty
space in front of her where he should have appeared, and then took
several steps away.  It was just...odd seeing nothing there.  So very
odd and plenty enough to make her feel uncomfortable.  "Well, you've
made your point, so I guess we should get on with other things."

"Yes."

"For one, I need to know more about you.  I need to know things like
temperature, pulse, respiratory rate and...."  She watched him shrink
back, clearly uncomfortable.  "What?"

"I think you know my answer."

"What?  Like the blood test?"

"Yes."

"Nick, I need something to start with."

"And if you tell me what you want to know, I will tell you the answers
you need."

She was stunned.  "Anything?  Will you tell me anything?"

"Anything that you need."

Natalie didn't like the sound of that.  He was going to limit her
questions, and she had no idea just what he considered beyond need to
know information.  But she had to see how far she could push him and
if Nick really did mean just what she truly needed.  "Okay.  For
starters, I want to know how you became a vampire.  Detailed."

"Brought across; drained and then given the blood of a vampire."

"And this blood is what changed you?"

"Yes.  And that is all you need to know.  Your concern is with what I
am, and reversing it."

"And I could really use a sample of your blood...."

"And you will not get one."

"Okay, tell me what you will answer, then."

"Make a list of questions you would like answers of.  Leave them here
when you leave.  I will return it when I can."

Natalie followed his movements to the door.  She closed her eyes as he
slipped through it, and then, after nearly a minute, she opened them
and focused on the mirror.  He had left it, probably to pick up later.

She hated this.  He wasn't working with her, he didn't seem to really,
truly want her help.  But she would write up some questions for him.
Maybe he was just being cautious.  Maybe if she played along how he
wanted he would start to relax some.  Maybe....

There were far too many maybes, that's what.

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

Nearly a month later, Natalie read through a photocopy of Nick's list
of answers for what had to be at least the tenth time or more since he
had returned her question sheet.  Now, at nearly two months after she
had initially met Nick, she still didn't know a whole lot about him.
In fact, the bulk of what she knew wasn't even on the paper, but
instead things gleaned from their conversations and his general
behaviour.  As she read through the list once again, she kept her
focus on the questions she still hadn't managed to get answers for.

The unanswered questions mostly consisted of what he categorised as
being 'too personal'.  And granted, some of them, like what kinds of
interactions he has had with other vampires and mortals, and what
occupations he had held could certainly be considered somewhat
personal.  But others it seemed he just didn't want to answer.

He had, however, answered all of the questions pertaining to his
reactions when he ate or drank mortal food, and all the questions
involving his reactions to things like sunlight, garlic, and crosses. 
However, he had skipped questions asking directly about past attempts
to become mortal.  This bothered her more than anything else did.  Why
wouldn't he answer these, considering he had answered other questions
that had very possibly crossed over in their subjects?  And especially
when knowing what didn't work would help her in trying to figure out
what might?

He had also left the question about the differences between being
mortal and being a vampire blank, which meant one of two things--he
had already told her everything, or he was keeping this information
from her.  It made her wonder just how much he was keeping from her
and how much he would continue to keep from her if he wouldn't answer
such a basic question.

However, he had detailed out so much--mostly involving what appeared
to be involved in those past attempts at becoming mortal that in
themselves he wouldn't tell her about--that she didn't feel it was
appropriate to admonish him for what he held back from her.  Or it
hadn't been when she had received the list.

But that had been weeks ago, and at the present, frankly, it was no
longer enough.

Before she could get any further on this, she needed a sample of his
blood or some other sample of his tissue.  Granted, she had managed to
get him to let her take his temperature, pulse, and just about any
other reading she could test there in the morgue, but all that did was
tell her what was different, tell her things she had already guessed
or knew.

It had also clearly illustrated that he didn't like coming into
physical contact with her--in any form.  If he had a choice, he would
stay clear.  But she still needed to know more.  She knew that just
because, say, someone had a fever it didn't pin down exactly why they
had a fever.

A blood sample could help her pin down more on what, exactly, made
Nick what he was.  But with the way things were going, she wasn't sure
she should even ask again.  It would make it the fourth occasion she
had asked for a sample.  But she needed it, and Nick had to see that.

When the door opened ten minutes later, Natalie only looked to Nick
for a moment to make sure it was him.  "Did you actually try to cut
back on your blood intake this week?" she asked.  She had asked
precisely this last week, and had gotten the same answer she was now. 
Silence.  He was increasingly becoming more of a pain than anything
else.  "Okay, I get it.  No.  Fine.  Then you can listen."

Again, more silence.

"I need a blood sample, Nick.  It's not just a matter of wanting it.
I need it, and you know it."

"I've already--"

"Yes, I know," she snapped, watching his eyes flash gold for a second.
"You may not like it, but I need it."  He continued to stare at her.
"At least explain to me why you won't let me take one.  And with a
real reason, Nick."

He looked away.

"Is it because you don't trust me?  Because you're afraid of what I
could do with that sample?  Because if it is, you *can* trust me with
this.  I want to help you, but I need more."

He spun, facing fully away from Natalie.  "Fine."

"What?"

"I said, fine.  You can take your sample.  But one sample and only
one."

Not wanting to hear him change his mind, Natalie started toward a
drawer, only to find his hand stopping her from opening it.

"Not tonight."

Natalie took her free hand, pushing Nick's hand away, only to find he
was retracting it even faster to avoid further contact.  She took a
step back, then watched as Nick's eyes fell on the sheet of paper
containing his answers.  She watched his hand start for it, and she
lunged forward, trying to get to it first, but by then he had crumpled
it up in his hand.

"You should not keep something like this in plain sight."

"It was out because I was looking at it just before you arrived."

"That does not matter."

"Fine.  I have a copy of it, anyway," she told him.

"I noticed.  Therefore, you do not need this one.  And I advise you to
destroy the other one."

"I also have a handwritten copy.  One that doesn't have reference to
what you are."  She watched him slowly stuff the crumpled ball into
his pocket.  She could see Nick's opinion on that.  Perhaps it would
be best to do as he asked and destroy the original.  She still had
what she had copied into her notebook, and that was also the safest
place for the information.  "So, did you at least try drinking
something other than blood this week?"

"I tried."

"What?"

"As I said, I *tried.*"

"Nick, just say what you're trying to tell me.  What happened?"

"I did not succeed.  I seriously doubt you want a full description.
Now, when would you like to take the blood sample?"

"Well, I'd 'like' to take it now.  However, since that's not an
option, some time within the next week should work, preferably sooner
rather than later."

"Then I will see you next week, Doctor."

She gave him a nod and stared back at her desk.  Nick now knew she was
keeping some kind of record of what they were doing.  He hadn't liked
that.  She had seen it.  But, she had gotten him to agree to give her
a sample of his blood.


Elusive Gains - (04/26)

At their next meeting, Nick had started to become downright
uncooperative within just a few minutes.  And then, not long after
that, he had flat-out ceased responding to her, his eyes staring
blankly away from her.  This was getting to be like pulling teeth.  Or
worse, if that were possible.

"Nick, I asked you a question."

He slowly, calculatedly, faced her, but he made no move to speak nor
did he gave any indication that he had even heard her.

"You mentioned I could get the blood sample I wanted."  She waited,
but he didn't even move or shift the focus of his eyes.  Why did he
have to do this?  Her pulse increased and his stone-hard eyes
continued to stare coldly through her.  She looked away and gathered a
needle, two vials, and a tourniquet.  "You promised I could, and you
know I really need this," she stated, something she had told him more
times than she could count.  She turned and met his gaze again.
"Please, Nick.  It's simple and would tell me a lot.  Besides, you
said I could."

As she worked, she watched him eye the needle in her hand, eye the
vial as it was pushed into place, and then turn to the second vial as
she left it on the counter and turned back to him.

"I could take a tissue sample instead?  Or a sperm sample?"  Natalie
watched him shoot a glare at her and squirm uncomfortably.  And then,
finally, he reluctantly undid his shirt cuff and pushed his sleeve up.
She kept a smile to herself, not daring to show her pleasure in his
reaction.  She knew the prodding would get him to cooperate.  He
wanted whatever would be the least invasive, the least troublesome.
She picked the tourniquet up off the counter, holding it out to him.
He took it from her without a word; they both knew he still didn't
like her touching his skin.  As he put the band in place and reached
out toward the needle, she pulled her hand back and told him, "I'd
much prefer to take the sample myself."  She watched him pull back
instinctively, and then, as if he hadn't done the previous action, he
held out his arm toward her.

Gently, she guided his arm to the counter, telling him to sit on the
stool.  Once he was in place, she cautiously took the blood sample,
his blood flowing so slowly she could see he was ready to bolt before
she had gotten even half a vial.  She could feel his eyes on her,
watching her as she eventually switched vials, and then expertly
removed the needle and automatically untied the tourniquet.

"That wasn't so bad, now--"   Her words came to an abrupt halt as he
stood and turned away from her, pulling his shirt sleeve down and
rebuttoning the cuff.  "Nick?"

"When would you like me to return, Doctor?" he asked, not turning
around to face her.

"It'll take me a couple of days to do the tests I want.  How about
three nights from now?"

"That's fine."

She watched him put his jacket back on, still not looking at her.
"And Nick...?  Please, I would really prefer if you started using my
name."

He turned, glaring at her with icy eyes.  "Good night, *Doctor*."

Her gaze followed him out.  Once alone, she breathed deeply out.
Despite the hesitation to cooperate, Nick was doing much better than
their previous meetings; much better, but he still distanced himself
far more than was necessary.  He was also starting to make sure their
conversations were as short as possible.

Perhaps he was afraid that if he resorted to familiarities he would
get his hopes up, only for things to come crashing down.  Is that what
had happened in the past?  Had he had so many failures, so many
breaches of trust that he could no longer trust himself to get close
to another human, another mortal?

Whatever the case, she would give almost anything for his cold looks
to vanish.  She closed her eyes; she actually felt physically drained
from having talked to him, having tried to talk to him....

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

Three nights later, Natalie came back from her lunch break hoping to
find him waiting for her.  He wasn't there and it was getting late,
even for him.  And yet, she was sure he had been in the morgue that
night.  Again.  It was something she had noticed recently, as if he
kept sneaking in and making sure she wasn't doing anything he wouldn't
approve.  Nothing ever seemed out of place or missing, although
occasionally she found the door not quite shut the whole way.  It was
as if someone was in a hurry and didn't want to make a lot of noise.
She had asked the orderlies--and none of them had gone in, nor had
they seen anyone.

She crossed to her desk, picking up a folder, turned, and came face to
face with the very subject of her thoughts.

"You should not keep records of this," he stated, holding up a black
notebook.

She set her jaw with anger, even as her heart pounded at his sudden
appearance and now beat even faster when she realised just what was in
his hand.  "Nick, if I'm going to track your progress--see what does
and doesn't help--I need records," she stated, a hint of her anger
creeping in, making the words stiffer than intended.  "Besides, if
you've seen them, read my entries, then you know there is no mention
of your name or what you are.  I've been very careful with what I
write down, and I've destroyed the original questionnaire.  There's
nothing for anyone to find."

His cold eyes drilled into her as he slowly set the notebook on the
counter.

"Nick, I can't do anything to help you unless you cooperate with me."

"Are you sure this is worth wasting your time on?"

"Is that what you think of this?  'Wasting time'?"  She watched him
look away.  "I'm doing this because I believed it was something you
really wanted, Nick.  That this meant something more than some game,
some random thought.  If you think this is 'wasting time', I'll stop
right now and you can go find someone else that, unlike me, just might
share what they learn to the world or see you as nothing more than an
experimental subject."

"This is something I want," he responded, his voice more animated than
usual, but the distance remained imbedded in his words.

"Then you need to work with me."  She watched his hard exterior
struggle to remain his stoic usual.  "And you're not, Nick.  Perhaps
you are coming here, meeting me, and perhaps partially doing as I ask,
but you can try harder.  And if we're going to do this, you need to
trust me."

He didn't answer, clearly uncomfortable.

"Nick, if you want to do this, you have to work with me.  Is that too
much to ask?"

"This is...hard for me.  You have to understand that.  To trust you,
to trust myself in this is difficult."

"I can't understand why you're hesitant unless you tell me why."  She
paused.  "And you're not going to do that, are you?"

He glanced away, and then looked back to her sharply, emotionlessly.
"What did you want to discuss about my blood samples?"

"Nothing for now, other than to say your blood is quite different than
a human's."

"But?"

"But it's not as different as you might think, Nick.  And....  Nick, I
do want another sample in four nights."  She saw him stiffen, at which
she continued, "And, as I assume you haven't yet tried to cut back on
your blood intake, I want you to make a detailed list of when, what,
and how much blood you're drinking.  Don't do anything different."

"The second is fine.  However, I told you I would allow a blood
sample.  One.  No more."

"I need a baseline, Nick.  And I need to be able to see the affects of
changing your diet."

"I can tell you the affects.  I already have."

Natalie could hear his frustration, but as she was just as frustrated,
she told him, "Nick, without knowing exactly what it's doing we don't
know for sure what helps and what doesn't.  Without multiple blood
samples, I don't know if I have representative results.  You have to
trust me on this, and you can."  She paused, and then pushed forward,
"You've been a doctor before, I'm sure of it."  Although she had hoped
her prodding would elicit some response, he remained silent.  "If you
want, you can take the samples yourself.  I have no problem with that.
But I need the samples.  And, if by chance you have done this before,
whether on your own or working with someone, please share that
information with me.  All of it."

He stiffened.  "No, I haven't done this before.  Not recently, not
with the technology and knowledge that's available now."  He looked
away, appearing lost in thought.

"When were you a doctor?  Where?"

He glared at her.  "No personal questions.  I've made that clear and
that isn't changing."  His expression softened to that of an annoyed
marble statue.  "However, I will allow you to continue as you wish.
You may take more blood samples, if that's what you need.  Is that
all?"

She shook her head.  "No, I want to give you something," she said,
pulling a note out from under several folders and holding it out to
him.

He made no move to take it, eyeing it with suspicion.  "What is it?"

"It is my home address, home phone, and work phone."

"I don't need them."

"Because you already know what they are or because you want to keep
your distance from me?  If it's the former, I'm not angry.  I'm sure
you've learned what you can about me, likely watched me far more than
I'm aware.  If it's the latter--I'm the one that's offering, not you. 
I'm not going to ask where you live or what your phone number is, but
I do want you to be able to contact me if you either need or want to."
She continued to hold the piece of paper out, but he just glared at
it.  "Please, Nick.  You don't have to take it, but I'd rather you
did.  Do whatever you want with it, but please do take it."

Gingerly, he pulled the paper from between her fingers, then folded it
in half and stuffed it roughly in a pocket without looking at it.
"Satisfied?"

"Yes," she told him, although truly, she wasn't.  When he turned and
left, she wanted to scream at him.  She wanted to tell him that if he
didn't stop pushing her away that she wasn't going to help him.  But a
part of her knew he would leave and never come back.  And if he left,
she would never see him again.

Under his hard exterior surface, she could see him struggling.  But
with what?  She couldn't tell, and it worried her.  Once, she had
asked what he wanted, not if he wanted mortality, per se, but why,
exactly, he wanted it.  And he had told her it was because he wanted
an end to his suffering.  Not because he wanted to walk in the
sunlight, have a family, children, grow old and die as he was supposed
to, but because he wanted an end to what he was.

She had turned that over more times than she could count.  What
suffering, precisely, did he mean?  An end to his vampirism or, could
he possibly mean an end to his life?  He definitely wanted an end, but
would he go that far as to want death over being a vampire if he
couldn't become mortal?  Vampires were not fully immortal; they could
die, perhaps not as easily or in as many ways, but they could die.

She didn't know.  But she wanted to know.  She wanted to know so much
more about this man.  He *was* suffering from something.  She could
see it, and she wanted it to stop.  But she was so afraid to push him
and never see him again.

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

She had made a mistake.

The last two months had gone well, even if he still refused to call
her by her name.  He had gradually lost some of the hardness of both
his stance and his voice.  But their meetings had become ever shorter.
And sometimes she wondered if he really wanted to work with her
because of it.  That, and he had skipped one of their weekly meetings,
and three times she had come back from lunch to find a folded piece of
paper containing any reactions and his blood intake--word processed
with no personal note--and two vials of blood on her desk, ever so
slightly warm.

And then, a week ago, she had made the mistake.  She left a note for
him, asking him to meet her at her apartment.  It had been her night
off and what she wanted to do was easier there than at the morgue.

And, of course, he hadn't come.

In some ways, she hoped he had just not come, that he had perhaps had
something else that night that he had to do.  But she suspected that
it was that he didn't want to come to her apartment.  Too personal,
too close, he would tell her.

Because of it, they had only met four times in the last nine weeks.
And, so far, she had put up with it.  But the changing pages of the
calendar showed that time was passing quickly.  Summer was ending and
she was now counting the time she had known Nick in terms of months
rather than weeks.

"Good evening, Doctor."

She spun, and there he was.  He came earlier than usual, actually.
And, considering she wasn't supposed to be in tonight, that was
probably a good thing.  She didn't particularly want to spend all her
waking hours at the morgue.  "Good evening," she replied in kind.
Then, she stiffened.  "Why didn't you come by my apartment last week?"
He didn't say anything.  "I specifically told you to come.  It was not
an offer of hospitality."

"Whatever the case, I told you all discussions would be held here.  No
where else."

"I figured you'd say something like that.  So, I brought with me what
I was going to make for you last week.  It's not quite as fresh, and I
had wanted your reaction to it."

"To what?"

Natalie went to the refrigerator and pulled out a white plastic
container with a snap-top.  She came back slowly, trying to stall to
decide what to tell him.  "It's a...health drink of a sort.  Basically
a high-protein, nutrient-rich drink."  She watched him look away as
expected.  He wanted no part of this, absolutely no part.
"Nick...we've tried cutting the blood back.  You said you can't eat
most solid foods, but seem to have a bit more luck with liquids.  Yes,
I know you said you can't really drink anything, either, but...  Think
of it as blood that's not quite blood."  He glared at it with disgust.
"Come on, I even made it red and did what I could to make it as blood-
like as I could.  It should, hopefully, be better than most liquids.
And I guarantee that it won't kill you."

He just stood there.  Calmly.  Silently.  Annoyed and visibly
disgusted.

Natalie fumed.  "Fine," she told him, putting the container on the
counter.  She started toward the door, and then turned just before
leaving.  "Do what you want, Nick.  I'm going *home*.  Either take the
shake and try it, or leave it.  I'll see you next week, or I won't.
You decide.  I can't help you unless you let me, and you're not
letting me.  Choose one.  Unlike you, I don't have all eternity to
wait for you to make up your mind."  She turned, pulled open the door,
and left.

She didn't stop walking until she was outside.  She halted just
outside the range of the door as it swung shut, and closed her eyes.
"He deserved it, Lambert," she told herself.  She half-expected Nick
to come up behind her and protest, to perhaps feel the air behind her
move as he approached whether or not he actually spoke to her, but he
didn't.  He was either still inside or he, too, had left.

She turned around, facing the building.  Maybe he was still there,
hoping she would come back?  Reaching for the door, she stopped
herself, physically shaking her head.  She had told him it was his
choice, and it would be.  Resolutely, she spun and walked quickly to
her car before she could change her mind.


Elusive Gains - (05/26)

It had been twenty-two days since she had walked out of the morgue,
leaving Nick there.  She hadn't seen him since.  And she wasn't sure
what to think of that.  Shouldn't she be glad?  After all, he didn't
seem to want to work with her.  He wouldn't do anything she asked or
told him to do without an argument about it.

Natalie walked up to her apartment, notebook in hand.  If Nick wasn't
going to continue working with her, she would eventually need to
destroy it, she knew.  She wasn't quite ready to do that, so for now
she had decided to just take it home and away from any eyes that might
come across it at the morgue.

Reaching her door, she unlocked her apartment, entered, pulled the
door closed, and then turned the lock.

"Good morning, Doctor."

Natalie gasped and spun, nearly dropping her keys and the notebook,
her purse sliding off her shoulder.  "Nick, what are you doing here?
It's...."  She glanced down at her watch, lips parting as she realised
how very late it was.  "Uh, Nick, it's almost eleven in the morning.
The sun's-"

"Give me the notebook."

"Why?" she asked as he walked slowly nearer, stopping several steps
away.  Natalie glanced around her apartment, which seemed oddly absent
of Sydney.  "What did you do with my cat?"  He just stared at her,
nodding toward her notebook.  "Fine, don't answer."

He looked away for a second.  "You asked what I'm doing here?  Perhaps
I'm here because this obviously isn't going to work."

She shook her head, holding firmly onto the notebook, even as she put
her purse and keys down.  "No, Nick.  It's not going to work unless
you want it to, unless you really want it to work and work for it.
And you have to make that choice.  You have to decide if you want
this, and then you have to work with me, you have to cooperate.
Otherwise, I can do nothing for you."

His eyes narrowed.  "You trust me far too easily."

He wasn't answering her, wasn't telling her what he wanted.  And yes,
maybe she did trust him more than she should considering his
behaviour, but that was her choice.

"I am not like you."

"No, you're not.  But you're human.  Perhaps not mortal, but human."

"I am *not* human."  He laughed, the sound rough.  "You seem to keep
overlooking that.  I drink blood.  I've killed."

"But you don't anymore, you don't want to kill.  You want to be
mortal."

His eyes glowed bright amber, a smile gracing his lips.  "How can you
be sure I've told you the truth about that?  Any of it?  And how can
you be so sure that I won't kill again in the future?  Perhaps soon,
perhaps even you?"

"I don't think you would," she told him, trying to get him to listen
even as she avoided telling him that her reason was nothing more than
a feeling she had about him.

He closed the distance between them in two quick steps, spun her, and
pushed her neck to the side.  "Another second and I could kill you.
You'd be dead."

Natalie closed her eyes.  The unmovable grip, the sharp pain that ran
down from her neck...it was all so very, very real.  And she believed
him.  She knew that, if he wanted to, he could kill her just as he
said he could.  At the same time, her instinct told her that this had
to be a show, a very controlled example of what he was capable of.
"But I'm not," she told him, the words forced.  "You won't kill me.  I
know you won't."

He pulled her chin back, preventing her from speaking any further.
"Killing is natural for me.  It is what my body is made for.  To
kill," he whispered in her ear.  "You have underestimated me, Doctor. 
You might think that there is good in me, think that you have seen it,
but there isn't.  There hasn't been for a long time.  I'm not sure
there can be."

Abruptly finding herself released, Natalie rubbed her neck and her
throat where he had gripped.  It hurt, but she could already see him
retreating for the door.  "Nick, everything, everyone has good in
them.  And there's more good than evil in the world, and there's more
good than evil in people.  That includes you."

He turned, smirking as he spoke, "Really?  Why would you think that?"

"If there wasn't, I'd be dead.  If there wasn't, I--or anyone else for
that matter--certainly wouldn't be helping you.  We wouldn't have
police or fire-fighters, we certainly wouldn't have doctors.  If there
wasn't good in the world, the human race probably would have blown up
the planet by now or otherwise blundered so badly we wouldn't be
capable of talking to each other right now."

"Who says that won't happen in the future?  Perhaps it just hasn't
happened yet."

"Nick, you've had the opportunity to kill me countless times.  You
could have easily taken my blood instead of what was in the fridge
that night.  You're good whether you believe it or not.  Perhaps not
perfect, but who is?  I'm certainly not perfect.  And Nick, you've got
far more good than evil in you.  I'm sure of it."

His eyes remained a dull gold, but his stance lost a small portion of
its stiffness.  "How can you believe this?"

"I have to, Nick.  If there weren't any good in the world, what would
be the point to life?  How could life be seen as positive?  How could
evil even exist, how could it be defined?"  She stepped forward, but
he backed up toward the door.  "Nick, if you still want this, I...I
would be willing to try working with you again.  But you have to work
with me and you will, eventually, have to trust me.  I'm not asking
for an instant change, but I'll have to see progress."

The gold faded to an empty blue.  He stared at her for a moment, then
turned and quickly unlocked the door and left.

She went after him, but by the time she was in the hallway, it was
empty.  He was gone.  And now she was back to a state of pure
uncertainty, all because she couldn't drop this.

Would he or would he not take her up on her offer once again?  And if
he did, how much more of this could either of them handle?

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

Natalie jumped when the doorbell rang two days later; she had dozed
off on the couch while watching TV.  Turning the television off, she
stood and went to the door.  Looking out the peephole, she couldn't
see much of anything.  It was probably better to not answer it, or
wait, but aware it was likely Nick, she cautiously opened the door
just a few inches.  And there, leaning against the hallway wall just
outside her door, was Nick.  His eyes looked like they might be a soft
gold and overall he seemed dazed.

She pulled the door open wider and stepped closer, concerned.  His
typical stiff and stony posture was absent, his form bent, slouched as
he rested with his back to the wall.  "Nick?"

He gradually shifted his gaze to her, the gold far more obvious now
that he looked straight at her.

"Nick, what's wrong?  What happened?"

His lips twisted into a faint grin, and then closed his eyes and
scrunched his forehead in thought, his vaguely pleasant expression
vanishing instantly.

"Nick?"

"You think there's good in the world," he stated, turning his gaze
toward her, his eyes still glowing, his fangs peeking through as he
spoke.  "You think there's good in me."

With his words, she was hit with the strong scent of alcohol, a hint
of blood accompanying it rather horrendously.  She wasn't sure which
scent bothered her more.  She stiffened, her heart rate increasing as
the reality of the situation hit her.  She was talking to a drunk or,
at the least, a very tipsy vampire.  Her instincts told her to bolt,
or at the very least slam the door and lock it for all the good it
would do.  Sydney hissed at Nick from behind her, reinforcing that
thought.

But as he turned more fully toward her, light glinted off several
burns.  Some were on the side of his face, another on his neck.  Her
concern returned in an instant and she reached out toward him.  And,
as her fingers wrapped around his upper arm, she was stunned when he
didn't react.  She tried to guide him in, and only then did he pull
away.  Even so, it was awkward when he did it.  Nick, who she had
never seen make anything resembling an awkward or inelegant movement,
was drunk to the point he could, she suspected, barely stand.

"Tell me, Doctor, do you really think that?  That there's good in me?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't still be standing here, trying to get you to
come in.  Now please, Nick, come inside."  She moved to grab his arm
again, but he wouldn't let her.  Hoping he would follow, she went back
inside and stood out of the way of the door.  And sure enough, he came
in, causing Sydney to run off toward her bedroom, where he had hidden
two days ago.

Slowly, she shut the door.  And turning back to him, she watched as he
crossed to the window, pulling the curtains closed.  When he then
pushed the curtains to the side, letting in light for just a moment,
she became anxious.  How could he so easily play with something that
could destroy him?

She knew what sunlight did to his blood, she had gone as far as put a
few drops on a slide to test it, and it hadn't been pretty.  The burns
he presently had showed just how dangerous sunlight was.  And yet,
again, he touched the curtain, his fingers flitting in the bright
light in some sick game of self-torture.  "Ni--"

"The touch of the sun's rays is pleasant to mortals."

She couldn't respond, her attention fixed solidly on the light
streaming in through the window.  "You miss it, don't you?"

"Sometimes."

Natalie's eyes visibly widened in surprised when she got an answer.
Even better, he had given her an immediate and unusually direct
response.  To top it off, she was sure that in the past Nick would
have considered this a personal question as it related to his personal
thoughts on what it was like being a vampire and would have completely
ignored the question.

He let out a breath and pulled the drapes shut, blocking out most of
the light.  He then shifted and leaned heavily against the wall next
to the window, bracing himself against the solid surface.

"Why are you here, Nick?"

"I'm not sure."

"You've been drinking."

"Yes."  His eyes glinted brightly as he smiled oddly.  "Blood and
wine."

"Cow's blood, or human blood?" she asked, aware she couldn't dare back
off yet.

He closed his eyes.  "Both.  Cow's blood.  Then human.  And then the
wine...more blood and yet more wine...."

"If you're going to work toward a cure, you can't do this."  She
waited, but he didn't acknowledge her.  He seemed preoccupied.  "Can I
at least ask why you did this, what triggered it?"

"The hunger.  I needed something."

"But why?  You've told me that you always want blood, whether you need
it or not.  Why is this time different?"

"I was thinking, and it just happened.  I couldn't....  You're not
frightened of me.  No matter what I do, you keep offering your
kindness.  I can't understand that.  I'm not sure I could even believe
this was real after our last conversation.  How can a mortal doctor
want to help something that's sole purpose for existing is to kill?"

"Because you want to change that and because I am a doctor."

He nodded, the movement sluggish.  "I wasn't sure I could believe it
at first.  I mean...your kind murders each other.  In--"

She waited for him to continue, but he didn't.  "What?  In what,
Nick?"

He took in a deep breath.  "In eight hundred years I've seen things
that should never be spoken of.  Especially this last century.  So
many horrors, so much death...and yet as you said there are still good
things, good people."

Although she had heard every word he said, the first part of his
statement stuck in her mind.  In fact, she remembered him mention it
before, but before hadn't been the right time to ask.  She wouldn't
have received an answer.  But now?  "Eight hundred years?  Is that how
long you've been alive, or how long you've been a vampire?"

He seemed to hesitate, perhaps deciding whether or not to answer.
"It's...how long I've been alive.  I was brought across in 1228."

"So you were born in...?"  For a moment, she actually thought he would
answer her.  Instead, she received a glare after a couple of seconds. 
But she now had a timeframe of roughly a decade that he would have
been born in.  He wasn't rounding off as much as she expected he had
or could have.  "It's okay, you don't have to answer.  I was just
curious."  When he again closed his eyes and slid down the wall, her
unease at his state skyrocketed.  He might have drunk quite a bit of
blood, but he was pale.  And although his burns seemed to be healing,
he looked like he was becoming weak from it.

Silently, she went to the hall closet, pulled out a washcloth, and
then went to the bathroom to get it wet.  Once she had wrung the
washcloth out, she went back to Nick.  She cautiously approached and
knelt next to him.  Carefully, she reached toward the healed wound on
his forehead.  The washcloth just touched his skin when his hand
snapped out and pushed her away.  "If it hurts, I can stop," she told
him.  She met his eyes, and was pleasantly surprised when Nick
released her arm and let her continue.  She cleaned the dried and
burnt blood away, faintly pink skin revealed.  "You're healing well."

"They were minor burns."

Natalie swallowed.  She wouldn't have considered the burns minor.
"What about more serious burns?"

"They hurt a bit more, take longer to heal.  But you can't understand.
It's different than being burned as a mortal."

"How different?"  She watched him roll his head sideways against the
wall until he was looking at her.  His expression calmed her, his lips
wearing an almost pleasant smile.  "You don't have to answer if you
don't want to."

"I want to.  I need to, I suppose, don't I?"  He turned his head back
to its original position, staring blankly across the room.  "The pain
is sharper, deeper as a vampire, especially when from fire and
sunlight.  You don't forget the more serious burns.  They...make a
strong imprint in memory, reinforcing the instinctual fear."

"And fire and sunlight can also kill you."

"Yes.  But we will heal as long as we're not consumed."

Consumed.  She didn't like that word; it made her think about what it
would be like to be eaten alive.  And Nick had used it in relation to
sunlight.  To be eaten by the sun's rays, something practically
invisible, something she associated with warmth and pleasantness....

Her attention shifted back to him when she saw him attempting to stand
up.  She watched as he had to first go to his hands and knees and then
use the wall for support before he made it to a standing position,
once again leaning against the wall, using it for support.

"I...I should go."

Natalie shook her head.  "No, it's day.  It would be better for you to
stay here."  She nearly added, 'And you're drunk,' to her reasons, but
didn't see that going over well.  She stepped in front of him,
prepared to block any attempt at fleeing as best she could.  But he
didn't try to push pass her.

"Are you certain?"

Her jaw just about dropped.  "Yes, I'm certain.  You can sleep in my
room if you want.  I have better window coverings in there."

He shook his head.  "No, here is fine."

"The couch isn't very big...."

"I'll be fine," he emphasised.

She stiffened.  His tone was becoming harsh like before.  But then,
had she really expected him to suddenly drop it?  She managed a smile.
"I'll go get a pillow and blanket."

"I don't need them, it's fine."

She ignored him.  He was her guest and she would get them.  If he
really didn't want them, he didn't have to use them.  She pulled a
quilt and an extra pillow out of the hall closet, taking them back to
the living room.  Nick was staring out the window again, or trying to.
She didn't know if he could really see anything past the bright white
light streaming in or not, but hoped he could.  She put the pillow and
blanket on the couch.  "I'm...going to head to bed.  If you need
anything, just knock on my door."  She watched him continue to stare
out the window, not acknowledging her at all.  "Nick?"

He turned and nodded.  "Thank you, Doctor."

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't.  She followed his gaze as
he again looked out the window, at which she turned and headed to her
room.


Elusive Gains - (06/26)

Natalie couldn't sleep.  No matter how hard she tried, the fact that
Nick--a vampire--was in the other room prevented her from any more
than a light, restless half-sleep.  She had put on her robe and gone
to check on Nick several times.  Each time he had been sound asleep on
the couch.  Or perhaps he was just pretending to be.  She knew if
their positions were reversed, it would not be easy for her to sleep
soundly for hours.  She honestly didn't have a clue which one it was.

The first time she checked on him, she had been torn between how
uncomfortable he looked and how downright innocent and relaxed he
appeared.  And yet, he looked more than relaxed.  He didn't seem to
breathe, he was just...there.  Alive, but...something less, or perhaps
it was something more?  She didn't know.

When she had seen that he used the pillow but not the blanket, she had
covered him with the quilt.  And, amazingly, she hadn't woken him.  He
hadn't stirred.  Even on her later trips out the blanket was still in
place.  If she didn't know better, she would say he hadn't even moved.

Now it was early evening, the sun still up, and she had decided to go
ahead and get dressed.  When she came out of her room, she moved as
quietly as she could manage toward the couch.  As it came into view,
she saw she had no need.  Nick was awake, or, she should say, just
waking up as it looked like he was just now sitting up.

"How do you feel?" she softly asked as she approached, afraid that
when he looked to her his eyes would be glowing in the dim room.

"I'm fine."

She forced a smile.  His words were back to the sharp, punctuated tone
she couldn't manage to become accustomed to.  His eyes glistened
faintly, but they were clear and calm.

"I really should go."

"Stay, at least until sunset.  Please, Nick?"  He didn't answer her.
"I would like to continue our conversation from earlier.  Perhaps not
now, but soon.  If you do want to keep working on this, that is."

"Yes.  Perhaps."

It was just two words, and no movement to indicate his true opinion.
But the response was neither harsh nor sluggish.  "You seem
awfully...normal now."

"You mean considering what I was like when I got here?  Considering
how much I drank?"

She nodded.

He flashed a half-smile.  "Vampires heal quickly, hence no blatantly
noticeable hangover."

"That'd be nice."

"But would you want the rest of the deal?  Immortality is a double-
edged sword, and very tempting.  If I did become mortal, there are
some things I'd miss.  But losing them is worth it."

"Tempting....  Is the temptation of immortality what led you to being
brought over?"

"I'd...rather not talk about that.  But...yes, it did involve
temptations.  Many temptations."  He stood, keeping his eyes locked on
her.  "1193."

"What?" she asked, the number not making any sense to her.  1193 what?

"You had asked when I was born.  1193."

So, he was about thirty-five when he had come across and, frankly,
older than she had guessed he had been by a couple years.  But the
information only made her more curious.  "Can I ask where?" she
prodded, hoping to get more since his talkative mood hadn't yet
vanished.

"Where I was born?"

"Yeah."

"In an area that is now mostly within Belgium."

"What was it then?"  He didn't answer, but he seemed to want to.  She
could see it in his eyes as he glanced away, and then looked at her
once again.  "Nick?  Come on, where?"

"If you're really curious...find an old map.  It's on there.  The
name's survived, although just barely."

She could barely believe this.  "You're really going to make me look
this up, aren't you?"

He just smiled back at her.

"You're in a better mood than I've ever seen you in, you know that?"

The smile vanished.  "I didn't want this to happen.  I'm sorry.  I'm
sure I've imposed on you far more than you expected I ever would."

"It's fine, really."

"Do you work tonight?"

She nodded.  "Yeah, I go in for nine tonight."

"I'll bring by my...schedule from the last month.  If you want me to,
that is?  You won't like the last few days, though."

"If you want me to see it, bring it.  But you don't have to."

"I'll bring it.  I'd offer a blood test, but...I'm not sure that would
be of any use, considering."

Natalie didn't respond.  She didn't have to--they both knew why.
Hoping to turn their conversation to something more relaxing, she
asked, "Okay, since you asked me if I was working...do you even have a
job?  It's just, you seem to have a fairly flexible schedule...."

"No, I don't have a job.  After what happened, I'm not sure if I
should."

"Because someone might recognise you?"  She received a nod.  "How long
had you been here at the time?  When you got, ah-"

"Blown to bits?  Not long."

"So, well, did anyone know your name or anything else about you?"

"No, not really."

"Then why are you worried?  They never identified you, and if by
chance someone thinks they've seen you before, I'm sure you can handle
that."

"Perhaps."

"I'm just saying you might consider getting a job.  If you haven't
already thought about it, that is."

"I have.  I'm just not sure if I should keep to my original plan."

"Nick, you've been here for five months and you haven't done a thing?"
She saw a sparkle in his eyes.  "I know.  You probably don't need a
job.  But doesn't it get, well, boring not having much to do?"

"Sometimes.  I'll think about it, okay?"

She smiled back at him.  "If you haven't already picked a job, you
might consider something a vampire wouldn't be expected to take."

"I think you would, perhaps, approve of the one I have in mind."

"Good."

"Anything else?"

Natalie thought for a moment.  Personally, she didn't want to bore him
by asking more questions, some that she knew would only get more and
more personal.  And then she remembered her last, failed suggestion,
wondering and hoping Nick would be willing to tackle the shake she had
made for him.  "What if it's not a question, exactly?"

"What is it?"

Natalie, a smile forming on her lips as Nick leaned a bit forward,
curious, answered, "Hmmm, well, since we're doing so good this
evening, you can try that drink I wanted you to try.  It'll be a good
new beginning, of a sort."

He groaned and fell back into the couch cushions.

"Come on, Nick, it's not going to kill you."  No further answer.
"Well, I'm taking your reaction as a 'yes' considering you're still
here and haven't bounded for the door."  She waited a couple of
seconds and, when she still got no protest, she then went to the
kitchen.  Making the mixture was simple, really.  The complicated part
was making the powder that made the mixture, but she had already had
that made up.

Pulling a mug down from the cupboard, she quickly mixed the powder
with cold water from the refrigerator, so that it was about half full.
It tasted a bit better cold--to her, anyway.  And maybe a few ounces
would be less intimidating than the much larger amount she had brought
to the morgue?

Once she had the mixture well-stirred, she put the spoon in the sink
and went back out to where Nick was, still sitting on the couch,
waiting for her.  She handed him the mug and he took it without any
comment or hesitation, seemingly planning to cooperate.  In fact, he
seemed calmer and more ready for it than when she had left to the
kitchen.

"It's green," he immediately commented, staring into the cup.  "I
thought you said you had made it red?"

"I did.  Unfortunately, that was an extra step, so you'll have to
settle with green today.  It could be greener, you know?  Besides, if
you ever do become mortal you'll have to get used to seeing green on
your plate."

His eyes didn't stray in the slightest from the pale, lime green,
slightly thicker than milk mixture.  "Should I ask what is in it?"

"Probably not."  He gave her this sceptical look that she wasn't sure
was serious or not.  Was he, perhaps, loosing even more of his hard
exterior?  "I even tried it myself, and it tasted fine.  Come on, try
it.  Please, Nick."

He handed it out toward her, contents untouched.

"Nick...."

"It works.  I've lost my appetite."

"Then maybe it'll do an even better job if you actually try it.  It
should be better than some things, at least."  When he actually took a
sip, she couldn't help but smile even if his facial expression was one
of complete disgust.  But he swallowed it.  He actually swallowed it. 
And then he again held the mug back out to her.  "So...?"

"It tastes worse than most mortal food."

She winced.  "Sorry, I kind of hoped it would be better than most.
But, other than that how is it?  Anything in particular that could be
improved, anything that's a good aspect of it...?"

"It's either too thin or too thick.  It's not making me overly
nauseated, though."

"That's good."

"For now."  He held it out a couple of inches further.  "Please, take
it.  I'm not going to drink any more of it."

"Nick...."

"Would you rather have had me head to your kitchen and spit it out?"

"Well, no, not really...."

"Then take it," he again said, firmer.  "A single sip might not have
much affect, but I don't think I can handle much more.  Nor right
now."

Natalie tensed, but he was at least being honest.

"Sorry.  Maybe bring back a glass of water?  I'll drink that."

"It's okay, Nick."  She took the mug and went back into the kitchen.

He wasn't trying hard enough, but he was trying.  And, as she rinsed
out the mug, pulled out a glass, and filled it with water, she again
reminded herself that he wasn't completely refusing to try.  After
all, water wasn't blood.  And he had tried the drink she had made.
And considering blood was something he likely very much needed, after
the burns and hangover, the fact that he was willing to drink some
water was certainly a good thing.

She headed back to the other room again, only to find Nick staring
oddly at her red-orange walls.  "Ah, sorry about the colour."

"It's a bit...annoying."

"It increases your hunger?"

"Something like that."

She held out the glass of water to him.  "I'm a little surprised you
can drink water."

"Why?" he asked, taking the glass.

"Well...okay, maybe it's not too odd, but--"

"I don't need water, and although my body would much rather be
drinking something else, it has its uses.  Don't rely on myth."

"You're close enough to myth from what I've seen, and it's not like
you've said much about it.  Besides, you said that you couldn't drink
any mortal food or drink.  And, apparently, that isn't entirely true."

He took a large swallow of the clear liquid and nodded.  "I'll explain
more.  I promise.  And I will try harder."

Natalie tried to keep her expression even at the promises.  Even if he
did start telling her more, she wondered just how much that would be. 
Probably all that was necessary, and only what was necessary.  "Are
you done with the water?" she asked, noticing he was about to put the
nearly full glass down on the table.

He stopped.  "No.  No, I'll finish it."

She watched him as he then took another sip of the water, as if he was
trying to prove it.  She had a feeling that water wasn't a whole lot
better than the shake.  "You don't have to."

"And you don't have to help me.  You didn't have to let me in this
morning."

She pursed her lips as he forced a smile.

"But I would like you to help me.  I really do mean it."

Natalie didn't say anything in response.  What could she?  She would,
of course, help him.  She had already told him she would.  But he had
to work with her, otherwise it eventually wasn't going to work out--
something they now both knew.  She glanced to the clock.  It was
nearly sunset.  "Will you be leaving now?  The sun's about down."

He finished the remaining water in one large, forced swallow, and
nodded.  "I should go.  I might not have a job, but I do keep busy
most nights."

"Hobbies?"

"Something like that."

"A vampire's hobbies....  Hmm, that might be interesting."

"Not really."

"You aren't going to say anymore about that, are you?  Even if I ask."
She watched him look abruptly away.  "I thought so."

"I'm sorry.  Give me time.  I will work with you, but I would really
prefer if we avoided the more personal topics.  Please."

"Does that go for my research information too?"  He stared blankly at
her.  Had he forgotten?  "The map, to get the answer to my question?
To find out where you were born?"

"No.  No, that's fine.  Just other...closer topics.  Where I'm from is
a fact.  My personal life is something else.  I'm not going to ask
about your life, Doctor.  Our relationship is strictly professional,
and I plan for it to remain so."

She stiffened and he put the glass on a table as he stood.  She
followed his approaching steps until he passed her, at which she
closed her eyes.  Seconds later, she heard her apartment door close,
and he was gone.

Strictly professional or not, Nick likely knew more about her personal
life than she did about his.  Far more.

She was starting to fear this would continue--whether it be her
personal life or her time and effort.  Recently, she had felt like
they were, indeed, wasting time as Nick had put it.

But she couldn't ignore his renewed effort, not after him arriving at
her door earlier today and what was possibly the single most
progressive 'meeting' they had had to this point.  He was, finally,
appearing to open up, to soften and, perhaps, to trust her.

And whether or not she should have, she had given him another chance.


Elusive Gains - (07/26)

Later that night not long after her shift started, Natalie turned
around as the door clicked shut.  She expected to find a technician
entering and nearly asked what they needed, but instead it was Nick.
As he approached, she could even hear his footsteps.  He was actually
making noise instead of his usual unheard and seemingly instant
appearances, like some silent ghost sliding through the door and
materializing behind her.

And he also looked a bit happier than his usual.  Perhaps things would
be different this time, perhaps he really was going to try harder.
Whatever the case, she just stood there, staring at him with her mouth
gaping open, so stunned by the sudden overall change that she couldn't
think of a response.

"Is something wrong?"

"Ah, no.  No, I'm just a bit surprised.  I've never heard you come in
before.  I mean, I've heard the door a couple of times, but I've never
actually heard you walk in."

"I know."

She watched as a smile flitted across his face, but after a few
seconds, the bright appearance only remained in his eyes.

"I thought you might prefer it.  You haven't said anything, but I know
it bothers mortals."  He shifted uncomfortably, then handed several
sheets of paper out to her.

She took them, her thoughts lingering slightly on his last word even
as she stared blankly at the top page.  Mortals.  She supposed it
meant something, though.  After all, he hadn't said that it bothers
humans.  Maybe he didn't think they were as different as he seemed to
let on?

"So, have you figured out where I'm from yet?"

Her line of thought broke, and she was shocked that he would ask this
so soon.  "Nick, it's only been a few hours.  I haven't had time...I
don't even know where to look, really."

"Find an encyclopaedia.  It likely won't be mentioned in the history,
but look around the Capital...and take a glance at the country facts. 
That should--"

She watched him tense.  Just as she was about to ask why, she saw the
door open.  And of all the possibilities, of all the people that could
have conceivably walked through the door, it was Schanke.  She wished
she could have cursed, but didn't dare between the two of them.

"Did you find anything new on the Matheson case?  Is it a suicide?"

"Suicide," she said, going to her desk and pulling off the top file,
keeping her attention as closely on Schanke as she could.  "Nothing to
suggest homicide."

Schanke took the folder, and then shifted slightly, nodding toward
Nick.  "So, who's your friend?"

"Well...."  Natalie couldn't say more.  After all, Nick wasn't exactly
her friend, was he?  She didn't even know if Nick was really his name,
she couldn't even risk introducing him.  "Ah, this is...ah...."

"Nick.  Nick Knight."

Natalie watched as first Nick held out his hand to Schanke, as the two
shook hands, and then as Schanke's expression changed to something
very odd, even for Schanke.  She knew what it had to be; Nick's skin
was as cold as ice, and Schanke had surely noticed the strangely
chilly grip.

"Detective Don Schanke.  So..." he said as Nick took a step back.
"You a friend of Natalie's?"

She waited, hoping Nick would take the lead as they had never
discussed what they would say if anyone asked.  And when Nick didn't
look like he was going to answer, she fumbled for something to say,
"Ah...er, Nick's...."  She then she looked back to Nick.  After all,
Schanke had asked the question of him, not her, and she didn't know
how much he wanted others to know.  Nick had wanted this just between
them, but....

"A patient," Nick answered.

"Really?" Schanke asked, looking between the two.  "I didn't know
pathologists had patients.  Live ones, that is.  Granted, you do look
a bit pale, but you're probably not used to morgues--"

"Nick's a special case," she said, cutting him off before he launched
into mentioning the cold handshake...or anything else he might have
noticed.  "And I'm not charging him for visits, anyway."

"And I'm not letting you do this for free."

Natalie turned to Nick, a little surprised he had responded with
Schanke there.  And besides, they had settled that--he would pay for
any expenses she incurred for any tests or medications, but not for
visits.  And now?  She was also surprised at his harsh, unmoving tone.
This is all she needed--to get into an argument with Nick in front of
someone else.  "Nick--"

"I'll come back in a few days for what you wanted, Doctor."

She watched him turn and slip out, not even acknowledging Schanke.

"So, it's just 'Doctor', is it?"

"Like he said, he's a patient."

"Yeah, but--  Wait a second, you said he's a patient.  For what?  Why
would I guy come to a pathologist instead of a regular Doc?"

"Uh uh, Schanke.  I am a doctor, remember?  I might work in a morgue,
but I've had plenty of live patients before coming here.  Besides, you
probably won't see him again, or not much, anyway."  She took the
papers Nick had given her and took them to her desk, sliding them
under a file.  "What are you doing here now, anyway?"

"Filling in.  I hate nights, but....  Wait a second.  Why's a guy
seeing his doctor in the middle of the night for?  Forget it being a
morgue, it's awful late for a doctor's appointment."

"Because nights are a good time for both of us."  Natalie relaxed when
Schanke seemed to think about that.

"Well...okay.  I guess that could kind of make sense, doesn't it?  I
mean, if it works, it works, right?  So, definitely a suicide, then?"

"Yeah."

"Man...a house that's practically a mansion, a BMW...even one of those
little fluffy dogs that require more maintenance than most homes."

"She lived alone, both her husband and son had died within the last
year, there were no signs of forced entry, and she had taken enough
pills to kill just about anyone.  Suicide."

"I still don't understand it.  It just really doesn't make any
sense...I'm not sure I'll ever understand 'em."  

Natalie watched Schanke start for the door, but then he hesitated.

"If nights are convenient, then he probably works nights.  Do you know
where he works?"

"Uh, no I don't, Schanke.  He just moved here."

"So, how'd you end up being his doctor?  Come on, at least tell me
that."

"I don't know, he just sort of popped up one night," she said,
wondering what affect the semi-truth would have.  And he just stared
at her, sceptically.  He didn't buy it.  "We had a mutual acquaintance
and the topic came up."

"So you're really just his doctor?  Not that if you were more it would
be bad or anything, just wondering.  It's just...I mean, I don't call
my doctor just 'Doctor'.  Isn't it odd the way he does that?  Don't
you think it's, I don't know, impersonal?"

It took a second before she realised exactly what Schanke was
suggesting by the first part.  But, truly, it didn't particularly
surprise her, considering how quickly Nick had practically bolted and
their slow responses with introductions.  "Schanke, he really is a
patient and *only* a patient.  And yes, his manner can be a bit
impersonal, but it's not doing any harm."

"What do you know about the guy, anyway?"

"Schanke...."

"Just don't want to see you getting hurt or anything.  There's
something about him that just seems...off."

She watched him pause, lost in thought.

"Probably nothing.  Yeah, it's nothing."

She managed a smile, trying to cover up the worry that had started to
ooze its way in.  If Schanke tried prodding Nick, tried confronting
him no matter the reason, she suspected it would only reharden Nick's
mood.  Nick didn't like others prying into his life and Schanke was
just the type of person to do just that.

"So, how long have you known him?"

"Ah...not long.  Like I said, he recently moved here.  Don't worry
about me, Schanke.  Nick's harmless.  Perhaps a bit rough around the
edges at first, but it's just a show.  He was just surprised when you
came in."

"You sure about that?  He had quite a grip."

"Yes.  Like I said, he's harmless."

Schanke considered her words and nodded in partial acceptance, and
then finally left, saying goodnight to her, seemingly back to normal.

Then, and only then, did she let out a breath.

Had she really just called Nick harmless?  And she did it twice, at
that.  Unconsciously, her hand went to her neck, to where Nick had
forced her head back several nights ago.  She had been thankful that
it didn't bruise, but even so, the skin was quite tender.

The fact that Nick was about as far from harmless as one could get
made her a bit nervous.  As far as she knew, this could still all be a
ploy, some game to him.  He had even hinted that he could be lying to
her when he mentioned how easily she trusted him.  But something told
her this was no game.

However, Nick was still a vampire.  And, as he had told her, as a
vampire he lived, existed for the sole purpose of killing.  And he had
killed in the past and had likely enjoyed it.  Perhaps he didn't
anymore, and perhaps he didn't want to kill or even be a vampire, but
it was through killing those like herself that he had survived as long
as he had.  The life-blood of other living creatures was what fed what
he was even now.  Even if he didn't take the blood directly from the
source, he still fed off the very lives of others no matter the origin
or manner he obtained that blood.

However much she wanted to believe or already did believe, Nick was
definitely not harmless.

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

"So, did you find it?"

Natalie jumped, a line of ink slicing across the nearly filled-out
form in front of her.  "Nick, I thought you were going to stop
appearing out of thin air?"

"Sorry."

Putting her pen down, the form ruined, she went to get her
stethoscope.

"Don't you want a blood sample?"

"No, not tonight.  But I want to get your pulse and temperature
again."

"I thought you were done with that?"

"Nope.  I want to make sure your system is back to normal after your
little detour."  She watched him look away.  "Ah, come on, it's not
that bad.  Look at it this way--you don't get poked with a needle
tonight."

"It doesn't hurt."

"But you don't like it.  Now, unbutton your shirt."  She waited
patiently as he undid the top several buttons of his shirt, just
enough for her to easily put her stethoscope over his heart.

"So, did you?  Since you wanted to know so much?"

"The map?"  She looked up, getting a nod.  "Yeah.  All I could find
was a current map.  That encyclopaedia tip was useful."

"But?"

"You were right about the history section, didn't have much of
anything useful.  In fact, it skipped right over that time period."

"And?"

"Well, like I said, the hints were helpful.  It's Brabant, correct?"
She watched him smile at her.  "Very interesting...anything I might
find on you in the library if I look 'Brabant' up?  There wasn't a
separate article on it, I noticed."

"Probably not, or if there is, it wouldn't be much."

"What might I find?"

Nick's smile all but vanished.

"I know.  Too personal, isn't it?"  She watched him close his eyes and
look away.  She was right on that--too personal.

"A bit," he answered.  "But if you looked, you'd probably find nothing
more than a birth date and place.  I didn't have a very long nor
particularly noteworthy mortal life.  Anything else likely no longer
exists or is only available to researchers.  If you look and you want
to find more about me, you'll be wasting your time if you hope to find
anything interesting or enlightening.  You've probably guessed more
about me than you'd find."

Natalie was a bit sad that he didn't elaborate what might be in other
records, but she was pleased that he had at least answered.  Once his
gaze softened slightly, she said, "One question, though.  This hit me
when Schanke was here a few nights ago, and I'm even more curious
now...."

"What?"

"Is Nick--or, I guess it would be some variant of Nicholas--your real
name?  The one you were born with?"

"It was."

"And...I suspect Knight is just a random name, isn't it?  No
relation?"

"It's not a random choice."

"But it's not your real name, is it?"

"No."

"So...what's the rest of it?"  She met his eyes, and the smile that
had nearly returned abruptly vanished.  His heart beat once, at which
she noted the time and pulled away, going to get a thermometer.  He
wasn't going to answer her.  "Open up, Nick."  Once he had hesitantly
obeyed, she went back to listening and waiting, this time silently.

A little more than ten minutes later, she got another beat, stepped
back, and took the thermometer out of his mouth.  They were both about
normal.  For Nick, anyway.  They were a little low, though, and knew
it could only mean two things.  "How have you been feeling the last
few days?"

"Fine."

"Qualify 'fine'.  Are you having more trouble keeping to the steady,
rationed amount of blood we were working with?"  He didn't answer.
Damn it.  This was going right back to what it was before.  "Nick, out
with it."

"You're right, I haven't been able to stick with it."

"And it shows.  Your temperature and pulse are lower.  How much human
blood have you been drinking?"

"Natalie...."

"How much?"

He looked away.  "Some.  Not much.  Less than half.  I tried, I really
did.  Next week will be better."

"And you--"  She halted, just as she was about to ask him is she was
supposed to believe him.  "Wait a minute, you used my name."

"You said I should."

She smiled, nearly forgetting about his comment about next week being
'better'.  Perhaps things would improve more, perhaps he wasn't
blocking her out as much as it still seemed.  "So, I ask again, what's
your name?  Your full name, Nick."

"Nicholas B. Knight."

She raised her eyebrows.  She knew it wasn't, couldn't.  "Come on,
Nick.  Mortal name."  She watched him squirm and glance to the door.
He wanted away, but he also wanted to answer her.  "You let me figure
out where you're from.  You knew I'd ask this, I'm sure.  And your
name is...?"

"Nicolas De Brabant," he told her, just before heading to the door,
slipping out and away with ease.

"Wait, Nick.  Nick!"  She started after him, but by the time she
reached the hall, he was gone.  She let out a deep, frustrated breath,
and then tossed his answer around in her head.

His last name was De Brabant, and she knew enough to know it meant one
of three things.  He didn't want to tell her his last name and he was
flat-out lying, he was generically from the area and didn't have a
real last name or again, didn't want to tell her and had just made it
up...or, possibly, he was a member of the then noble family.

The strong possibility of the last awed her, since the other two
options came down to that it was just a lie.  Granted, it would be
long dead nobility; yet, it was certainly a possibility, particularly
as he thought she would be able to find his birth date and place
simply by looking up where he was from, before he even told her it was
his name.  So what if he didn't have a so-called 'interesting' mortal
life.  That didn't mean much to her, not when the shear fact that his
mortal life had been eight hundred years ago.  As far as she knew,
that just meant that he wasn't his family's heir, that he didn't play
any clearly integral part in history.

And the middle initial he had given her moments before, she wondered
if he had just made it up or if it meant anything.  Could maybe be his
way of sticking in his real last name?  Whatever that B actually stood
for, however, she had no idea.  As far as she knew, it was something
simple like Brian or Benjamin.

But why did it bother him to give an answer, any answer?  Particularly
the intermediate one?  Why hadn't he just told her?  Why had he gone
as far as to stall her and only pique her curiosity more, when she
could have possibly found it on her own and there was no reason to not
tell her?  Why had he then decided to give an answer at all and not
just told her to look at the library or something?

At least he had given her an answer, although the way he left....  She
really disliked when his disappearing acts were like this--a way out
of answering her or giving her a straight answer.  Or cutting the
conversation and her questions short, no matter how personal or
impersonal the topic was.  And their conversation had been going so
very well....

"Damn it, Nick.  Why can't you just trust me?"


Elusive Gains - (08/26)

"Hey, Schank, I thought you were working on another case?" Natalie
asked as she arrived at a crime scene a few weeks later, well out of
his usual shift.  "And besides, you're dayshift."

"I am, on both those counts.  I'm not officially investigating; it's
more like...baby-sitting.  Stonetree's got me watching that friend of
yours."

"Friend?  Wait, do you mean Nick?" she asked, not able to think of any
of her friends who it might be.  Outside of work, she didn't talk to
many people.  It had to be Nick, and she watched him nod.  The action
was completely calm, although he seemed to share some of her
disbelief.  "Are you serious?  Why would he be here and need
watching?"

"Yeah, I'm serious, and he started at the 27th a few nights ago.  And
get this--the guy got Stonetree to let him work alone.  I mean, yeah,
he's been stuck with me the last couple days basically so he can get
oriented, but Stonetree made it clear it was only temporary and that
Knight would be working alone.  He comes in here, asks, and it's like,
'sure, go ahead, do what you want, take my job for all I care' and I
just wanna....  And you should see that car of his.  I bet it breaks
down on him sometime.  That thing's an antique.  It should be in a
museum, not out on the road.  It's about as far from a squad car as I
am."

Natalie filed away the comments, particularly those about Nick's car. 
She didn't even know Nick had a car until now.  But she was still
having trouble getting a grasp on what Schanke had told her.  "Nick is
really here?  He's a detective?  A homicide detective?"

"Yeah, he's over by the body," he said, nodding off to the side.  "He
apparently came up from Chicago about a month ago.  And you know what?
He hates souvlaki.  Not even dislikes, but downright *hates* it.
Won't get near it.  I asked if he wanted one before our lunch break
and he just gave me this expression that made my souvlaki go cold and
then he walked off without a word.  About as friendly as an air
conditioner in winter."

Natalie spotted Nick, catching his barely perceptible glance toward
her way as he knelt over the victim.  Nick could hear the
conversation, she was sure of it.  But had he mentioned anything about
super human hearing?  Nope.  She did her best to keep calm, and
turning her attention back to Schanke, she told him, "He's just not a
people person, Schank.  Give him a bit of time and I'm sure all will
be fine."

"Just tell him I'm heading back to the precinct and then heading home,
would you?  He's doing fine and really doesn't need me here.  I'm just
wasting time following him around.  I'd much rather be catching up on
sleep, anyway.  Later, Natalie."

She stood there a moment, first watching Schanke head toward one of
the patrol cars, asking for a ride back to the precinct.  Then she
turned to Nick, who was still hovering just over the body.  She didn't
understand how he could handle it considering his problem with her
apartment walls and the fact that he disliked being in the morgue when
she was doing an autopsy--whether she was actually cutting away or the
body was sitting there covered by a sheet and out of sight.

Natalie walked slowly up to him, watching him first tense and then
stand, but not look back to her.  "Nick?"

He turned, giving her an odd little smile.  "Didn't expect to see me
here, did you?"

"No, I didn't.  Just...please don't tell me it's some kind of joke.  I
mean...are you really planning to keep this job?"

"I'm really a homicide detective and I'm really hoping to keep it."

"Hoping...?"

"Yeah."

She watched him turn back to the victim, his eyes immediately drawn to
the blood.  "You're having trouble with it."

"Tonight, yes.  I suppose you could say it's my first crime scene in a
while."

"When was your last?"  She caught a glare, the question obviously too
personal.  Apparently, she had maxed out her allotted curiosity for
the time being.  "You aren't just trying this on a whim, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're taking on the role of an experienced detective from what
Schanke told me.  You have had enough training for this, right?"

"Yeah.  It's been a few years, but yeah, I have."

She watched him stare blankly forward, almost looking like he was
slowly zoning out.  "Nick?"  He turned sharply to her.  "You
know...Schanke doesn't seem to like you much.  He hasn't since he
first met you."

"No, he doesn't.  And I think the feeling is mutual."

"Why don't you like him?"

"Too much garlic, for one thing.  He...kept offering me souvlaki, and
food in general."

"He mentioned that.  And your car.  He thinks it'll break down on
you."

"It won't.  And...can we take care of this?  Please?"

She nodded and knelt next to the victim.  Professional.  They *were*
working, but it bothered her a little the way he was saying everything
without much emotion or enthusiasm.  Maybe it was just the scene?  The
victim, a man, had been shot several times and had bled quite a bit
before actually dying....  She turned back to Nick, his eyes already
drawn to the liquid.  He looked away, closing his eyes as he noticed
her gaze.

This was going to be interesting.  If, as he hoped, it lasted.  A
vampire homicide detective...well, he had certainly taken her advice
on taking a job one wouldn't expect to find a vampire, that's for
sure.  A vampire hunting down and arresting mortals that killed other
mortals.

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

"So, how are you doing with the job?" Natalie prodded a few weeks
later, shortly after sunrise.  She hoped to get more of a response
than the near silence of her previous attempts, but no luck as of yet.
"Nick, I know you're not doing very good at the crime scenes.  And in
here, for that matter.  You've been on edge whenever you've come in
here, more than usual."

"It's nothing."

"Nick, when your blood intake goes up by twenty percent in a single
week, it's not nothing."  She waited, but he didn't have anything to
say to it.  He was slipping backwards again.  Badly.  Slipping back
even further than his little binge had taken him.  And she was getting
sick of it and his refusal to talk to her about it, let her try and
figure out a way to help.  "Nick, something's up.  Something has
changed."

"Yes, something's changed, and I can't do anything about it.  I'm
around mortals constantly.  Do you have any idea what it's like to be
surrounded by dozens of heartbeats and have to ignore it?  To be stuck
with them and have excruciatingly bright lights shining down on you
while trying to be productive?  To be able to do absolutely nothing
about it?"

"No, I don't, but you can't go to the blood every time things get
difficult, no matter the reason.  You'll get accustomed to having
more, and then you'll want more and it'll be harder to cut back."

"You don't understand.  You can't."

"Nick, lis--"  She stopped as he turned to leave.  He was going to
leave and end their conversation just like that.  "No you don't, Nick.
You're not walking off this time.  Please.  Just try, Nick.  Try to
explain it too me.  Please try."

"I can't!  It's not something that I can explain to you."

She moved to block his path as he turned toward the door again.  He
wasn't getting out of here without an actual end to the conversation. 
She wasn't going to allow it.  "Then tell me something.  You've had
nearly a month, Nick.  I can understand the small increases those
first couple of weeks.  But Nick, this last week is going to make it
harder."

"It'll be fine.  It'll go down next week.  I promise."

She glared at him as he took a step toward the door.  "Don't you
dare."  He was doing this *again*.  He had promised it would get
better every week for the past three weeks, and yet it didn't.  If
anything, it was getting worse.  Every, single, week.  His promises on
this were becoming meaningless, something he hadn't seemed to realise
just yet.  And now, even though he hadn't walked out which she knew he
could do, if he really wanted to, he was still avoiding her gaze.
"Look at me, Nick."  When he didn't, she reached out toward his face,
compelling him to face her.  Her hand was pushed away, far more
forcefully than was necessary.  When she saw his eyes, they were
bright gold.  He was angry at her or he wanted to scare her, but it
wasn’t going to work this time.  She wouldn’t let it.  "Your blood
intake was already up, Nick.  And now you're drinking more than twice
as much blood than you were when we started!  That's not progress.  I
can't help you unless you're going to try, Nick.  You've slipped more
than even when you showed up at my place, drunk.  And when you slipped
this time, you fell down a very deep mine shaft."

"And I can get out of it."

"How?  When?  And then what will you do when you become mortal?  Tell
me that.  If you can't learn to change things now, you're going to
have a heck of a lot of trouble once you're mortal."

"If, not when."

"When, Nick.  When.  But not until you can make that change in your
mindset, Nick.  You have to think when, not if."  She stepped to the
side as he tried to walk around her.  "No," she stated, shaking her
head.  "No, you're not leaving yet.  I have more to say to you."

"I'm leaving."

"No, you're not.  This is our scheduled time to work on this, Nick.
My time.  I'm not even on shift yet and you don't even work tonight."

"So?" he asked, his eyes a deep amber, his tone curt.

"Nick, please, just--"  He pushed by her, reaching for the door.  Her
anger flared again.  She was not going to let him leave like this
again.  She was not going to let him make an even more regular habit
of it, not tonight.  She grabbed his arm, pulling it in an attempt to
get him to turn around and face her.

And he did just that, in one quick motion, almost throwing her off
balance.  A second later, she found herself shoved against the wall, a
hand wrapping tightly around her left wrist and pinning it in place.
Next, Nick's other hand pushed her right shoulder to the wall,
immobilising her.  She instinctively gripped his arm with her free
hand, which only caused him to use more force to keep her in place.

She stared into his brightly shining eyes, only now realising just how
far she had pushed him by stopping him, by touching him.  He had let
her see his eyes earlier for a reason.  And she hadn't heeded it as
the warning it was, but instead believed it to be him taunting her
anger.  But that's not what he'd been doing.  Instead, he had been
warning her he was too on edge to handle being physically urged or
forced to do anything, but she missed it, ignored it.  It was a
mistake.  "Nick, you--"

"You know *nothing* about me or what I am!" he said, the volume barely
more than a whisper, the words accentuated with harsh accents.

"Then help me understand, Nick.  Please.  I want to--"

"You *can't* understand.  It is not possible.  A mortal cannot
understand without loosing what makes....  I cannot make you
understand, I can't...."

Natalie tried to remain calm as he pressed her even more firmly
against the wall.  Her wrist was throbbing, and she was certain the
pressure was just short of what was needed to break her bones; even
her shoulder was starting to hurt where his hand pressed into it.  Her
pulse sped up, and she could feel her blood struggling through his
tight grip, her hand now feeling slightly numb.  But even so, it was
his words that affected her most.  His words were what kept her from
fighting against him.

"I'm doing my best, Natalie.  I'm doing my best.  I'm trying.  I
really am trying."

The decrescendo of his words faded to near nothingness as he repeated
the last once again, his voice sounding more tired than anything else.
By the end, she had forgotten entirely about the growing pain.  Nick
*was* trying, and she could now feel his grip slowly loosening.  And
then, just as she opened her mouth to speak, to ask him if they needed
to move slower or what would help...the door opened.  Turning, she
found Schanke staring at them, anger in his eyes.  She watched him
start toward Nick, probably with the intention of pulling Nick away
from her.  She shook her head.  "Schanke, don't.  Please don't."
Abruptly, she found herself completely released.  An instant later,
Nick had already brushed by Schanke and was out the door.

"That son of a--"

"Schanke!" Natalie said, quickly grabbing Schanke's arm much like she
had Nick's, her wrist hurting with the action, making her
involuntarily flinch.  But it successfully stopped him from going
after Nick, which was what she intended.

"I'm not letting him run off, Natalie."

She continued to pull him back, then moved between him and the door.
Even though she doubted Schanke could catch Nick, she had to keep him
here, convince him not to tell anyone.  "Please, don't.  He wasn't
intentionally trying to hurt me."

"Sure looked otherwise."

Natalie backed Schanke up further into the room.  She swallowed as his
gaze dropped to her wrist and he gently pulled it up between them.
Her skin was quite red, and even his light touch on her forearm caused
pain.

"God, Natalie.  I'm going to--"

"Schanke, don't.  It's not his fault, and I'll be fine."  Natalie
winced.  The instant she said it, she knew she shouldn't have.

"Not his....  Natalie, he just about broke your wrist by the looks of
it.  If I hadn't come by...Nat, he could have really hurt you."

She pulled her arm away from his scrutiny.  "But he didn't, and he
wouldn't have.  It really, truly is my fault, Schanke.  Please, let me
exp--"

"No.  No, no, no, no, this is not your fault, Natalie.  It is not your
fault.  He's probably just one of those guys that--"

"Schanke!  No.  Just listen to me.  Please.  I pushed him too far.
Me.  I'm the one that caused this, not Nick.  I knew he might react
the way he reacted, but I didn't care, I didn't think."

"How he reacted?  To what?  What reason would someone have to do
that?"

Natalie closed her eyes, knowing Schanke was right.  She had done
almost the exact same thing to Schanke as she had Nick, and Schanke
had been far more rational and controlled in his actions.  Nick should
have, theoretically, been fine.  He shouldn't have gone for her.  But
then he had been trying to tell her he couldn't explain, that she
wouldn't understand.  And she hadn't, had she?  "Schank--"

"Nat, he had you pushed up against the wall!  And your wrist....  And
you were in pain, Natalie.  I saw it.  What I should do is I should
tell Stonetree about this.  I should go over there right now and tell
him what happened."

She instinctively shook her head.  "No, don't.  Nick doesn't need
that.  Besides, neither of us were on shift."

"And you want to wait till he does this again?"

"He won't.  Schanke, he won't."

"He's a rotten--"

"He's under a lot of stress, Schanke.  I pushed him when I shouldn't
have.  He gave me a *very* clear warning not to provoke him and I
chose to ignore it.  I chose.  Not him, me.  I let that warning feed
my anger and I physically tried to prevent him from leaving when I
knew it wouldn't do any good, when I knew I had already gone too far. 
I knew what might happen, and I grabbed his arm.  I tried to
physically make him do something that I knew full well he wouldn't let
me do.  I shouldn't have even tried it, he'd warned me it would be no
use."

"There was still no reason for him to--"

"Schank, he warned me to not get in his way and, that if I did, he
wouldn't respond kindly to it.  I did exactly what he warned me not to
do.  Yes, he shouldn't have done what he did, but I shouldn't have
forced the matter.  I should have let it go.  He's a nice guy,
Schanke, but I stepped over the lines.  Please, just let this go and
give him a chance.  You might even like him if you got to know him
better."  She watched the other seem to consider her explanation.  She
knew she could get him to do this, to believe her.  She hoped he
would.  "Please.  I don't think he'd purposely hurt me or anyone else.
If he had wanted to hurt someone, he could have when you came in.  But
he left."  She watched him slowly nod.  But she needed more, and it
was ask now or wait.  "Schanke, I-I want you to get me his home
address.  I need to talk to him about this, and I think it would be
better if it was away from either here or the precinct."

"Natalie, I can't--"

"Schanke, please do this.  I know it's asking a lot, but I need you to
get me his address."

"No, Natalie.  I'm not letting you go over there alone after this."

"Schanke, you'll know exactly where I went if I don't show up to work
tomorrow night, okay?  And I'm not going over until after my shift.
By then, he'll have had all night to think about this.  Please, I need
to talk to him, and if I don't go over there tomorrow it'll probably
be a week or more before I get a chance.  I really don't want to wait
that long.  I at least want to tell him I'm okay.  Please, Schanke."

"Yeah, okay.  I'll get it."  He was hesitant, not wanting to leave.
"But I want you to call as soon as you get back home.  And I want you
to take every precaution.  Got that?"

She nodded.  "Maybe get his address when you get to work in the
morning?  I don't want to tip him off that one of us might be coming. 
Please, it's important, and I think it'd be better to continue the
conversation there than here."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do it.  But I still don't like you going over there
alone after what I saw.  I mean, think of what he did to your
wrist...and whatever else happened before I got in here tonight and
other times you two have been alone.  Or what might have happened if I
hadn't come in when I did.  I don't want you getting unnecessarily
hurt."

"He won't do anything to me, and he wouldn't have.  Another few
seconds and he would have released me.  He had already started to when
you came in."

"How do you know what he would have done?  What he will do?  Natalie,
you've what, known him less than two months?  Some of the others think
he's either not cut out for the job or are afraid of him.  Not that
that seems to bother him or the Captain."

"Yeah, and you're one of them and it doesn't help matters."  Natalie
set her jaw.  "Give him a chance, okay?  Let me talk to him.  He's
just having a hard time adjusting to--"

"He just transferred to us from Chicago, Natalie!  He shouldn't have
too much to adjust to.  He's apparently studied Canadian law policies
long before coming here, and he seems to know the city's layout better
than a lot of the people that live here.  He's no stranger to police
work or to murder."

She closed her eyes, thinking.  Nick didn't make this easy for her,
did he?  Opening her eyes and focusing squarely on Schanke, she told
him, "He's not used to moving, Schanke.  He's not good at talking to
other people, to new people."

"Yeah, I noticed that."

"I'm trying to help him with that.  That's why I need his address and
need to talk to him.  It's something I need to do before his stress
gets to him and he overreacts in somewhere far more public than here."
By now, Schanke was more or less calm, which she was thankful for.
And he even seemed somewhat understanding at her last words, her
explanation apparently making enough sense to him.  "I just want to
make sure he's doing all right and try to help him, maybe give him a
bit of a talk about what happened and that he shouldn't have run off
like that, okay?"

Schanke nodded.  "Yeah, yeah.  Okay.  But if anything more happens, I
want to know, Natalie.  Because if he does this again and I don't get
an explanation, I will go to Stonetree and Knight'll be in for quite a
talk.  Assuming, of course, he doesn't manage to talk his way out of
it, which I won't bother putting forward."

"Of course I'll tell you if something happens."

"Like tonight?  You wouldn't have said anything to anyone.  You're too
trusting of him.  I can see it, and I'll bet if you were a little less
all-trusting of him that, perhaps, tonight would have turned out
different."

Too trusting.  Natalie tensed, hearing it from Schanke.  Nick had told
her that on several occasions and she had believed it to just be him. 
But now she wasn't sure.  Maybe she was too trusting of him?  In a
way, that's how this happened.  She had trusted that despite Nick's
near loss of control, despite his clear warning and his generally good
nature that he wouldn't, couldn't hurt her.  And this time, she had
paid for it.

"I'll give you a call after I get in and get the address, okay?"

She nodded.  "I'll be here."

"Just...take care, okay?  Take lots of care.  And please call me when
you get home to let me know how things go, all right?"

"I'll call.  And you won't say anything to either Nick or Stonetree,
right?  And you won't corner Nick and threaten him if you run into him
when you leave tomorrow night?"  She waited and, after several
seconds, she received a hesitant nod.

"Yeah, yeah.  I won't say anything about it to them.  But I will if I
get even a whiff of more like this."

"Thanks, Schank."  She watched him force a partial smile and leave.
Once alone, she went to her desk, sat down, and closed her eyes.

Her shoulder and wrist were throbbing just as bad now as before when
Nick had her pinned to the wall.  She moved her left wrist around,
wincing slightly at the sharp increase in pain.  No bones were broken,
but she sure got a good reminder that she was dealing with something--
someone--far more dangerous than her typical patients.


Elusive Gains - (09/26)

Once she had arrived at the address Schanke had given her, Natalie had
approached the building, and eventually found a button that looked
showed some promise.  She pushed it, hoping that it was an intercom or
similar--and that it worked.  She had already passed-off a nearby
keypad, likely Nick's alarm system, but just because he had the keyed
entry didn't mean the intercom worked.  It just meant he wanted to
ensure he kept others out...which she could see, considering he more
or less lived in a warehouse.

Natalie closed her eyes for a second.  Nick hadn't come back by the
morgue that night, something she had hoped he might do although she
certainly hadn't expected.  Then morning arrived, and soon after came
Schanke's call, urging her to take great care when she went over to
talk to him.  By the time she reached the end of her shift, her
emotions had become mixed to the point she couldn't focus or think
straight.  She was afraid; both of Nick and that she would again push
him too far.  Schanke's fear had fuelled her anger, to the point that
she had prepared a backup plan of sorts.  And yet, she wasn't afraid
of Nick.  Nor was she angry with him.

She was, however, frustrated and confused.  Nick *wanted* her to help
him and he *was* trying.  That much she knew.  But his behaviour....
She was torn how to read the situation.  Had Nick merely lost control?
If so, why?  And why not tell her?  She knew he was still keeping
something from her.  If he wanted her to help him, why did he keep
doing this?  Sometimes, she wondered if Nick really knew what he
wanted.

By now, she had already pushed the button several times, enough to
wonder if it was even working.  Still, no one had answered, and then
she pressed it a few more times, back to back.  She didn't care if
Nick was sleeping or not.  He was going to talk to her, and he was
going to tell her precisely what had happened and why.  And if he
didn't answer soon, she was going to enter some random numbers into
that keypad....

"How did you get my address?" she abruptly heard, less than a minute
later.

"Let me in, Nick."  She waited, but he didn't say anything, nor did he
buzz her in.  "Damn it, Nick.  Let me in now or I'm going to have
Schanke explain to Stonetree what he saw.  Now, Nick!"  A few seconds
later, the door clicked and she went for the handle, pulling it
quickly open.

"Take the elevator up to the second level."

She swallowed.  His words didn't sound particularly thrilled that she
had come.  But she would do ask asked, and, once inside, she slid the
door for the elevator open to find herself standing in a freight
elevator.  And hitting the button for the second level, Natalie
discovered it sounded and felt as awful as it looked.  She could
barely believe anyone would live here, even Nick.  Or could she?

It made her anxiously finger the tranquilliser dart in her hand.  The
dart had been a precaution, more to ensure nothing happened to cause
Schanke further curiosity than to put her own thoughts at ease.  Her
mind would only be at ease after she talked to Nick.  The dart had
primarily been a product of her building anger and a full shift in the
morgue, thinking.  Somehow, it just made sense to bring it.  But the
closer she had gotten to Nick's, the more she was afraid that it was a
mistake to have brought it.

She was afraid that Nick would make her use it.  Or worse, that she
wouldn't have the chance to do so or that she would have to explain it
to Nick.  How could she explain it, really?  Explain that even though
she had brought it that she had no real intention or hope that she
would have to use it on him?  How would he react to it, if he
discovered it?

She didn't even know if the dart's contents would work on him,
considering that in a human, a mortal, the effects didn't last more
than a few minute and that via Nick vampires seemed to heal and
recover quickly from just about anything.  But it worked almost
instantly, and if something happened, that's what she needed.  Or,
that's what she had thought at the time.  What chance, really, would
she even have of using it assuming she even tried or wanted to?

Even with her uncertainty about bringing the dart, it was now too late
to change that.  She had it with her, had it in her hand.  It was even
too late to put it away, as the elevator had now come to a halt.

And then she jumped as the door was jerked open.  Nick was right
there, glaring at her as if she had no right to be there.  And it was
far too late to change her mind about the dart now, even as she
remained uncertain if he had only lost control or he had, possibly,
meant to react as he had.

"Why have you come here?" he snapped.

"Why are you so angry, Nick?"  When he just glared at her, she asked,
"What happened earlier?  Please, I want to know.  I wanted to know
earlier, but....  Please, Nick.  Tell me what's going on."

"I've already told you--since I've been working, I've been around far
more mortals than I'm used to."

"But why now?  Why not a few weeks ago, like perhaps after that first
case?  You were uneasy then, yes, but nothing like you were last
night.  Nothing."  She watched him turn away from her and walk further
inside.  Only now did she get to see much of his home.  And when she
did, she had more curiosity about it, and about Nick, for that matter.
The baby-grand piano was the most attention-drawing item, and she
glanced at it before forcing her focus back on Nick.  "Talk to me,
Nick."  When he looked back at her, she asked, "What haven't you told
me?  Perhaps about your blood intake?"

"I...lied to you," he said, again glancing away for a few seconds.  "I
lied about my blood intake, not how much I had been drinking, but
what.  I was drinking human blood that first week when I started at
the precinct.  I...had to.  The next weeks, I started to switch back,
drinking less human blood and more cow's blood, but I kept going back
to the human blood.  And then this last week, I went back to cow's
blood.  Completely.  That's why the amounts jumped up.  That's why I'm
on edge.  That's...."

"Nick?"

"It was too much, too fast.  I can't just instantly switch back,
instantly cut it all back.  If I did, I'd just slip, making matters
even worse.  So, I had to drink more of the cow's blood to compensate.
Hence the increased amount of blood."

"Why didn't you tell me?  You need to write *everything* down.
Correctly.  Type and amount, Nick.  I told you that."

"I knew it would disappoint you.  I didn't want you to think I didn't
care."

"And you thought lying to me about it wouldn't?  That that would
somehow be better?"

"I thought I could do it.  I thought that, just maybe, you wouldn't
notice, that-"

"Do I look like an idiot?  I'm a doctor.  I'm trained to notice things
like this.  And I didn't spend all of medical school in the morgue,
you know.  I have had live patients before.  And I want a better
explanation.  Now, why did you lie?  Why didn't you just tell me,
Nick?"

"I wouldn't have been able to explain it to you.  The blood is...it's
complicated."

"I would have listened, even if I couldn't fully explain what you were
telling me.  You know that.  And you've done a good job at explaining
things so far today--something you should have done last night, or
better yet back when this first started."  He diverted his attention
for a moment.  "Nick, I want to help you.  But I can't unless I can
have some level of trust from you.  You can't lie to me like this.
What we're doing, it can't be one-sided."

"And I can't allow it.  I can't allow myself to trust you.  And you
should not trust me like you have."

"Is that why you did what you did?  To make me afraid of you?  Like at
first how you tried pushing me away?"  She stepped closer to him.
"It's not going to work, Nick.  You've done all but permanently injure
me, and I seriously doubt you'll go that far.  You can't afford it.
You might lose my help then, and you know that.  And I know it too."

She watched as he turned back at her for a second, then again walked
away from her.

"Some of your co-workers are afraid of you, too.  Is that what you
want?  Everyone to fear you?  And then what will you do when you're
mortal?  No one's going to want to back you up and you'll get killed. 
Or, worse, they'll not trust you and not be where you think they are,
and they'll be the one to die.  And you don't have to be mortal for
that to happen.  Nick, unless you trust others and let them trust you,
you will hurt someone.  Is that what you want?"

"You know I don't."

"Do I?  You know, I'm not so sure sometimes.  Much more pressure and
I'm sure you would have broken my wrist."

"And?" he asked, his back still turned toward her.

She set her jaw, and then Nick abruptly turned toward her.  She took a
step back as he walked back to her.  But only one.

"And?"

His eyes were golden again.  Whether from anger or an attempt to scare
her, she didn't care.  She wasn't going to let him frighten her.
Calmly, she told him, "The bottom line is that I can't help you unless
you trust me.  And it has to be real trust, Nick, not whatever you
think you've been giving me.  I'm sorry, but I can't."  He seemingly
ignored her words, reaching for her left wrist.  She stepped back,
pulling her arm away from him.  Another step back and she found
herself spun much like just over a month ago in her apartment.  He
pulled her right wrist behind her back, the dart's point being shoved
into her hand.  She gasped as Nick grabbed her other wrist, but not
from pain.  She was starting to go numb and barely felt his rough grip
on the bruised flesh.

"Those I trust die, Doctor.  That's what happens to them.  Either by
my own hand or by another's.  They die.  Is that what you want?"

She fell back into Nick, unable to support herself any longer.  She
felt herself turned around, trapped as if inside a doll, at which she
saw his eyes lock onto the dart stuck in her hand, her hand no longer
obscured by her coat.  He was stunned.  She could see it as she tried
to grasp onto something without control of her muscles.

Then everything slipped away into unconsciousness....

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

Groggily, Natalie woke only to find herself dizzy before even trying
to sit up.  The light was on in the room--somewhat modern and sparsely
decorated--and by her guess, it was Nick's bedroom.  Or a bedroom, in
any case.  She rolled onto her side, having to pull the comforter free
to completely turn.  Nick had taken off her coat, jacket, and shoes.
Reaching up to her neck, she found he had even unbuttoned the top
buttons of her blouse.

She scanned the room for a clock, quickly spotting the glaring red
numbers of an alarm clock.  It was almost noon.  She had been out for
nearly an hour.  And she was tired, but not from the drug--she had
been awake for nearly twenty hours by the time she arrived at Nick's. 
She felt like she had a hangover and that's when she remembered why
she hated anaesthesia, particularly the first moments.  Specifically
that it blurred everything and made it impossible to control what was
happening.  She no longer even remembered, precisely, the last thing
Nick had said; but she did remember the harsh tones he had been
speaking with.

Slowly, she sat up and pushed the covers down.  Nick wasn't there
watching, as she had half-expected.  However, as she shifted, she saw
him appear in the doorway out of the corner of her eye.  Turning to
him, she saw a combination of anger and concern.

He approached her, holding the empty tranquilliser dart out in front
of him.  "You were this afraid of me?" he said, his words a soft
whisper.

"Nick, ah, no, not exactly, but...."  What could she say?  Everything,
she had to, and she told him, "But I did bring it, Nick.  Perhaps
because Schanke mentioned I should take precautions, perhaps it was my
anger that you wouldn't tell me what was going on....  But, Nick, I
didn't think I'd genuinely need it, I didn't think you'd give me a
reason to use it."  She could see his harsh, angry features locked on
her, telling her nothing of his thoughts on what she was telling him. 
"Nick, if I was genuinely afraid of you, I wouldn't have bothered to
come."

He looked away, just for a second.

"Was I wrong?"

"No.  No, you weren't wrong.  I wouldn't have hurt you.  I was...I was
stunned when--  And yes, you are right that I do still want you to
help me.  And that's what you came here for, isn't it?  You were still
willing to continue.  You truly, simply wanted an explanation, wanted
to help.  You wanted to understand...."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry for this, Natalie."

She watched him turn around and head for the door.  "Nick, I--"

He turned back.  "Sleep, Doctor.  Rest."  He continued toward the
door, turning out the light and closing the door.

Natalie sat there in the dark, not sure what to make of his reaction
and his soft, emotionless words.  They bothered her.  But in the dark
room, her drowsiness started to again take over.  She didn't want to
sleep, but what choice did she have?  She was tired, and Nick
obviously wasn't going to let their conversation continue until she
slept.

If he let it continue at all.

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

Several hours later, Natalie again woke only to be enveloped in a
faint scent that reminded her of Nick.  And then, realising where she
was, that she was still at Nick's, she quickly sat up.  The clock now
said it was almost nine, and the sun would certainly be down.

She slowly got up and out of the bed and walked across the room to
where she vaguely remembered the door to be, to where she had seen
Nick hours earlier.  Fumbling for the doorknob, she eventually found
it and pulled the door open.

The lights were on below, and she squinted down to where she found
Nick in the kitchen, already dressed and taking a sip from a blood-
filled wine glass.  It was the first time she had seen him drink any
blood in front of her since that first night they had met.

"I'll take you to your apartment and then to work," he