Future Tense Jarvinia Written June 2012 Posted June 2020 Preface/Notes This is a Forever Knight/Highlander Crossover (primarily/mostly FK) that starts immediately following the events in the FK episode 'Last Knight' and joins Highlander mid-season 5 after 'Revelation 6:8'. No infringement is intended by borrowing the characters of either series. Rating is probably a strong PG-13, primarily for violence. This story was originally written in mid-2012, and while a couple of people have seen this story (closer to when it was written) and provided some feedback, I've made enough edits since that all mistakes are mine. May not be archived without permission, although if you would like to, please ask. Enjoy! _______________ Future Tense - (01/36) Nick closed his eyes, waiting for his own death even as he held Natalie's still warm but limp hand, her pulse long gone. It didn't come, not even after LaCroix' curse, nor after the sound of the staff being swung back through the air. He just waited, knowing it would eventually end. Only LaCroix could now fulfill his promise to Natalie, that they would be together one way or another...in life or in death. And while the other man didn't agree with his reasons...he had stopped trying to convince him otherwise. Finally, his maker understood him. Finally, as he knelt waiting to die. Just as his anguish started to break, started to turn to anger and make him want to yell at LaCroix, demand that he finish it, everything changed. He felt Natalie's fingers pull against his, as if she were waking from sleep. He could hear her take a deep, sharp breath, and her heart suddenly beat nearly as strong and as fast as it had before he had killed her, before this had gone so terribly wrong. "Natalie?" he breathed and he leaned forward, hovering over her as her eyes fluttered open, only to have to pull back as she sat up. "Nat?" "Did you? Nick..." she fumbled, then her eyes caught on something behind Nick. He glanced back at LaCroix, who stared stonily but ever so slightly shocked down at Natalie, the wooden staff still in his hands but no longer raised. His sire clearly didn't know what had happened, either, although there was a hint of suspicion or perhaps disbelief in the older man's gaze. "Nat?" "I don't feel..." He kept hold of her hand, even as she raised the other to her neck. No blood came back on her fingers, nor did he see the puncture marks from his fangs. He felt even more confused. If and when she asked him what happened, he wouldn't be able to give an answer. Instead, however, he watched her eyes widen just before she screamed and tried to twist away. He didn't see it until the last moment. The staff that LaCroix was supposed to have used to kill him, he now brought down on Natalie. It sliced right into her chest and her heart just as it should have into his. He tried to stop it, but couldn't. Horrified, Nick froze, torn between going to Natalie and killing LaCroix. The latter instinct worn out after a couple of seconds, and he stood and shoved his sire back, even as the older man forced the staff free from Natalie's body. Nick yanked it from LaCroix' hands, pausing upon seeing the end smeared with her blood. It sickened him and angered him, but also stopped him from jamming the staff through LaCroix' heart. "Why!?" he yelled, backing the other away. "You murdered her just--" "She will reawaken, Nicholas." "What you did would kill you or I, or kill any mortal or living--" "She will reawaken!" LaCroix insisted, taking the staff forcibly back. "I swear, Nicholas, if I am mistaken and I have killed her, I will do anything you ask of me, including but not limited to ending your life as planned. But I will *not* be mistaken. She *will* wake." Nick didn't reply, his attention turning back to Natalie's limp and now bloody body. Seething with anger, he barely managed to turn and walk away from LaCroix and back to her. The promise calmed him just enough to move forward. His sire wasn't going to run from this. LaCroix believed what he said. Rather than knell next to her as he had been, Nick continued around Natalie and pulled her broken body up against him as he first knelt then sank to the floor. For the second time in a matter of hours, Nick held the dead or dying body of one he cared about. He couldn't hold back his tears any longer, and he gently rocked forward and backward. Tonight had been too much for him, for both of them. "She will wake, Nicholas. I am certain of it." "How can you be sure? You killed her--" "I only killed her after she died and then revived, renewed as if you had never fed from her, never extinguished her life in the first place!" "Maybe I didn't, maybe--" "She died and you know it! You made sure she was dead before I killed you." Nick flinched, but he couldn't help but think he had been wrong. Maybe his senses had dulled? Maybe she hadn't yet died? "What if it was a fluke, LaCroix? One chance to redo things, to fix--" "Life is not about redoes, about fixing past mistakes, Nicholas! I told you that those around you would want, would demand change. That's what she wanted, yes? A change to your relationship. Something she has wanted for some time, I believe." "And maybe we could have... We could have discussed it more, discussed it when we both weren't reeling from... Damn it, LaCroix! Why? Tell me why!" "Because it had to be tested." He looked up at the comment, some of his anger lessening, but only for a moment. Tested. "You know what has happened to her, don't you?" He watched the other man turn away. "Don't you?!" "Perhaps," LaCroix said, turning the bloody staff in his hands a couple of times before leaning it against the wall. "Perhaps?!" he asked, exasperated. "You said you were certain--" "I am certain! I am certain that she will wake. While you may believe in flukes, in magic or miracles, I do not. Nor would I expect Natalie to believe in such things. If she revives again, then she is--" He waited, watching, but his sire didn't finish. "Then she is...what? LaCroix?! Tell me!" "I believe she is waking." Nick looked down, and indeed he heard her heart beating once again. This time when she once more took in air, however, her breaths came in ragged gasps, and when she opened her eyes, she didn't try to sit up. "Natalie?" She was clearly terrified and in pain, and he leaned over and kissed her forehead, trying to comfort her. "Nat?" "What...what's happening?" Nick looked up at LaCroix; he couldn't answer her. "Tell her, LaCroix." "Tell her what?" "You know damn well what. Tell her what is happening! Tell us why you just--tell us whatever you know about--" "You died," he said, his gaze on Natalie. "Twice." "I think I've figured that out for myself," she managed, then her whole body winced as she tried to sit up. "Nat?" "What is going on?" she asked, her voice stronger, her eyes turning to Nick a moment before looking back at LaCroix. "You appear to be impervious to at least some mortal wounds, and even some immortal ones. You are not a vampire..." "Thank you, Captain Obvious." Nick held tighter to Natalie at her words, hoping she'd take it as a warning. He didn't think LaCroix was much in a joking mood, not after the last few hours. "Nor are you mortal," he continued, any hint of amusement gone. "Or not an ordinary mortal." "Then what am I?" He turned away again. "I need to confirm my suspicions." Nick tensed further, not liking his sire's tone or comment. "Why?" "Because!" he yelled back. "Do not let her out of your sight, Nicholas. And do not leave here until I return, which will likely be after sunrise." He spun on the spot, only to immediately look back at his son. "Plans have changed. We will not be leaving Toronto tonight." Then, in a shadowy flash, he vanished. Nick held onto Natalie and they sat quietly there on the floor of the loft for several minutes. He didn't want to let go of her. He didn't want to find out this was all a dream. Perhaps LaCroix *had* killed him and this was his purgatory? "Nick?" "It'll be okay," he whispered absently, as much to himself as to Natalie. "Nick, will you please let go so that I can get up? If I can get up, anyway. That really...hurt." Concerned, he not only let go, but stood and then helped her up. His eyes went to her bloodied, hole-ridden shirt and the absolutely unblemished skin beneath, which he reached toward. She pushed his hand away as she reached up to his face. He looked down realizing what had drawn her attention. His tears, which he hadn't so much as purposely or accidentally tried to wipe away. "I thought he had killed you," he said as an excuse, trying and failing to avoid her eyes. "Yeah, well, I thought I was going to die when he brought that staff down." She paused and looked down a moment, then asked, "What happened? I mean from where you were? You bit me, then...what?" "I took too much," he admitted, and he saw a sad smile on Natalie's lips. It's exactly what he had feared would happen, what he knew he'd do if he ever took her blood. "I don't know how much time passed before LaCroix arrived. Seconds. Minutes. Then I don't know how long we...talked, I guess." "Then I woke up as he was going to kill you." "Yes. The damage had been done. I had failed and--" He had to stop speaking when she put her fingers to his lips. "You made it quite clear to me what might happen, that you might kill me. You didn't fail or screw up or whatever." He shook his head, pulling her hands from his face and pushing her back. "I killed you, Natalie. That counts as screwing up." "Having you drain me was a hell of a lot more enjoyable than LaCroix staking me. I still ache all over from that. And why *did* he do that, anyway? I'm not a vampire of some sort, am I? He said I wasn't, but--" "No, you're not a vampire," he stated. "I never...I didn't try bringing you across. I knew it was too late, that you were too far gone. It wasn't my blood that did this." "How long was I out the second time?" "Maybe...ten minutes?" he guessed, glancing to his watch. It didn't help. He had no idea what time it had been when Natalie had come over. The night was a blur. "I don't really know. At least ten or fifteen minutes." "Did he say anything more to you?" "I think...I think he knows what you are. He's seen someone revive like you," Nick admitted. "I saw it in his eyes that first time you woke. There was some kind of...recognition. Once he got over the shock." "But I take it you've never--" "I've never seen or heard of humans that can withstand mortal wounds like you have. Never in 800 years." He watched Natalie look down at her former wound and touch the fresh skin there through her torn and bloodied clothes. "Do you think I'm like you? I mean in that I won't age, that I'm--" "Immortal?" he asked and got a nod. "I don't know. Maybe," he said even though he suspected it the way LaCroix avoided answering. If Natalie was immortal, that would mean they could have the relationship they wanted. But immortality always had a price, especially the kind that prevented a natural, mortal death. "Nick...I know he said to stay here, but I want to do Tracy's autopsy. They've probably transferred her to the morgue by now, and--" "You've already done one autopsy on a friend tonight. Let someone else do it." "No. No, I am not--if we're staying, I want to do it. And if we're staying, you should know I was supposed to tell you--" "The review board," he realized. "Reese said he got them to put it off until morning." "Nine," she said with a sigh. "I don't know what you want to do, but don't you usually just leave? Isn't that what you planned to do tonight? If I hadn't..." Nick slowly, silently nodded. He hadn't even properly resigned. He would have just disappeared if Natalie hadn't been there waiting, if she hadn't pressed for change when change was something he, himself, wanted so much. "Maybe...maybe you should go. If I'm not a vampire--" "You're not." "--I'll be able to drive you without a problem. And this way we'll both be able to, I guess--" "Do things right," he finished, echoing Natalie's reason for wanting to do the autopsy on her friend at the start of the night. He had screwed up so dearly with Tracy when she had been alive. The best he could do now was make sure there were no lingering questions regarding her death. "And then I don't know about you, but I'm going to resign." His mind cleared at that and his eyes locked right on Natalie's oh-so-serious gaze. "What?" "I've thought this through a lot over the past almost two months, Nick, thought how things could turn out if-- I already wrote my resignation up. I finally did it tonight after we talked in the morgue, when you left--before Tracy was shot. It's on my desk and any sensitive notes on your cure are downstairs in your mail slot. I even cleaned out my desk. I figured anything else could wait or someone else could deal with it." Nick felt not really surprised, but like he'd been hit. He had felt that way most of the night. He pulled back feeling Natalie's warm fingers brush his cheek again. "Regardless whether we go, I need to take a shower and change. And you should..." "Nat?" he asked when she started to look worried. "Nick, I'm okay. Or as far as any of us can tell I seem to be okay. I feel...more or less fine, I guess. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to, I don't know, drop dead at some random point--" Natalie's attempt to reassure him didn't work at all, and he pulled her into an embrace. There was nothing to say that she *wouldn't* simply drop dead in an hour or few. Maybe that's how it worked? Maybe Natalie wasn't immortal. LaCroix hadn't, after all, gone so far as to confirm that bit. He had only stated the obvious as she had noted. "Really, Nick, I feel...I'm not sure if fine is the right word, but I feel normal, physically. You can tell that, can't you?" Eyes closed, he just listened. Like when she had first woke, her heart beat strong and quick, probably from the current stress of not knowing. Her body, her skin was as warm as any mortal's. It hadn't cooled in the slightest. In fact, she felt a bit warmer than normal, but he suspected it was just from what had happened, from adrenaline and worry. Or perhaps because he wasn't used to being so close to her. "Nick?" He felt her trying to push him away, but he didn't let go, not yet. He didn't want to, not even with the strong scent of her blood so close. Now even more clung to his clothes and hands. LaCroix had sliced the staff not only into her chest, her heart, but clear through her body. She had healed as fast as he would if he had been impaled by a steel spike, faster than he would have healed from the wooden staff even through his shoulder. Natalie's heart, breathing, even her voice sounded normal...and far more calm than he felt. "I'll...I'll find something for you to change into," he said as he finally released his hold on her. "And you, too." "Yeah." "It will be okay, all right? Whatever happens, we'll both be okay." He couldn't even manage to nod, and he stared blankly down at Natalie even after she kissed his cheek and slowly moved away. He heard rather than saw her go upstairs. Only when the bathroom door shut did he move, and that was to go to the other, half-bathroom downstairs. He had to wash his hands, at least, and as he reached the sink he saw the blood-tears staining his cheeks, some in stark red lines. Others were smeared blotches. His reflection was oddly clear, although the longer he stared, the blurrier his form became. A couple of minutes later the blood was washed away, but in the mirror he could just make out a blank, hollowness to his eyes. No one at the precinct would blame him, but it wasn't just Tracy's death that had done it. It had been his breaking point, but what came after it hadn't helped. Feeling tears start again, he tried to will them away but he couldn't stop them, not until after he had again rinsed them from his skin. Then he focused on doing as needed. He went upstairs, to his room, to get ready to leave for the morgue. They would go and do this properly. He wouldn't leave loose ends, not this time. Damn LaCroix' order for them to stay. If his sire had really wanted them to stay, he'd have told them why, given some reason...even if it didn't make sense to him. Not just 'because'. LaCroix knew he didn't want to leave loose ends this time, even if it had been more of an excuse at the time. And plans had changed. They could change again. Future Tense - (02/36) Leaving the loft, LaCroix first returned to the Raven, where he paced to collect his thoughts. Who would know of those like Natalie? Assuming she was what he suspected she was...but to know for sure he had to... And then he thought of at least one person, one vampire in Toronto that might know: Larry Merlin. While Merlin typically set up identities for other vampires, he knew he had other customers. Unlike some of the others in his profession, Merlin did not reserve his services solely for their kind. If he was right, those like Natalie would need new identities just as often as a vampire. He didn't hesitate another second, didn't even look up the other vampire's address. He had it memorized in case he ever needed to try and follow his son. Merlin would like Nicholas, had probably been super friendly to him. Nicholas, after all, with his obsession with working with mortals meant a repeat customer...and more profit. Merlin was a businessman, first and foremost, and within minutes LaCroix had found said businessman's home. It was a wretched, large white suburban house complete with a white picket fence--something his son would probably buy if he ever became mortal--and he easily entered through an unlocked window on the second level. Vampires' homes were so easily broken into...if one could look in the right place. Once inside, he quickly realized that despite the approach of dawn, the other vampire was not home. This annoyed him more than angered him, and he settled into a black leather recliner near the front entrance. His eyes locked onto an ornate, silver filigreed mirror opposite the doorway, two sabers with unusually intricate woven hilts--more like a rapier's--crossed above it. LaCroix closed his eyes, but too late. The swords made him think of his...well, he supposed 'lucky' meeting so very long ago... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Paris, 794 Just barely to Paris, Lucius realized he would need shelter from the sun immediately. Shelter somewhere he would not be turned away. He couldn't afford delays with the sun and his hunger rapidly rising. Despite his dislike of churches, especially Christian churches, that was his only nearby option. He would collapse and probably die if he attempted to transverse another swath of bright morning light without feeding. Once in the shade, he pounded on the basilica's doors, although his effort sounded pitiful even to his own ears. He pulled his hood down to cover more of his burned face, then barely pulled his hands back below the fold of his cloak when the door opened. "Can you accept a weary traveler for the day, Priest?" he asked in Latin, trying and failing to keep the disgust out of his voice as he addressed the other man. "Of course, come." He shrugged away from the man's guiding hand on his arm only to nearly fall. He caught himself on the edge of the door, revealing his burned hand. "You've been injured... Let me--" Again he pulled away, this time into the dimly lit hall. "Leave it, Priest." "You may call me Darius." "Lucius." Turning, he closed his eyes, trying to lock onto the presence of any others in the building. He quickly determined the priest was alone, and he grinned to himself. "Have you come far?" "Quite far." Sensing more questions, he spun and asked one of his own, "It seems very quiet for this time in the morning...are we alone?" "Yes, you should be able to rest well. Come, I will show you--" "No." "No?" the priest repeated, narrowing his eyes at the visitor. Pushing back his hood, Lucius revealed not only more burns, but his hungry, crimson eyes. "I'll rest well...after a much needed meal," he whispered, then flew the few feet forward toward the priest. Sinking his fangs into the man's neck, he drained the supposed holy man's blood only to find a rather mixed past. Darius hadn't always been this meek priest, but a warrior for most of his life. He almost regretted killing the man, but only for a few seconds. As he let the priest's limp body drop to the stone floor, he felt the searing pain from his burns cease, and the weakness in his limbs faded as well. Nothing could compare to the feeling of regaining his strength. He chuckled as he walked away from the priest's corpse, turning and surveying his modest surroundings. Then he froze upon hearing a deep, harsh breath drawn from behind him. Spinning once more, he found the priest sitting up, very much alive, albeit disoriented. Weakened, perhaps, but not nearly as weakened as he should have been, even if he hadn't quite killed the man...which he certainly had. Walking in what started as a wide circle around Darius, he watched the other man stand and do the same to him. Now some of the images he had seen from the priest's blood made a sort of sense. "I've heard of your kind," the priest said, breaking their silence. "Really?" "Yes. Your burns, your change in appearance, your speed, even your accent... Most would call you a demon and hunt you, kill you." "Would you, Priest? I'm sure you know how." Darius didn't answer right away, just staring back before replying, "No." "I killed you." "Yes, and I would appreciate it if you did not do so again." He smiled a little. "Most would kill you as well I suspect. The world at least knows what I am, but you... To many you would be as much a demon as I am. How old are you, Priest? Or should I call you...General?" He chuckled. "Your blood told me much." "I have lived a bit over seven hundred and fifty years. And you are correct, I was once General Darius." "The same General Darius who rode to Rome?" "Ah, yes...you probably aren't too fond of that, are you? You're--" "I wouldn't know," he said as he continued to circle the other. "Rome lost my allegiance well before it fell to your people. I don't suppose we ever met on the battlefield?" "How old are you?" "Same as you. A bit over seven hundred and fifty." He was beginning to like this so-called priest. He hadn't once heard a bit of dogma, and he seemed to have much in common with this man....whoever or whatever he was. "Why don't you follow me? We have plenty of time to talk, I believe." "Until the sun sets," he confirmed and stopped circling the other man. "What are you? Other than immortal in some way." "Please, come. I would like to know more about your people as well. We have plenty of time for explanations." He hesitated, but began to slowly approach and then follow the priest, who seemed overly friendly given he knew what he was...and that he'd been killed by him. "I would offer you something to eat and drink, but--" "I'll have to decline." "What about some mead?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Future Tense - (03/36) LaCroix smiled to himself at the memory. He had indeed tried the priest's mead--rather strong mead it had been--and indeed they had talked...although more about what they had each seen, where they had been in their lives, than what they were. But he did remember some things about their conversation, that first conversation. He had never met another like Darius, not until tonight. Natalie had woken exactly the same, and he knew Immortals--as they referred to themselves--were just that: Immortal to almost all mortal injuries. All but one. Beheading, generally via swords like the ones on Merlin's wall. Otherwise, Immortals were little different than any other mortal human. They weren't stronger or faster, just immortal. They also purposely hunted one another and could identify one another. That was one reason Darius lived at the church. Not because he was particularly enthralled with his religion--or any particular religion as he had quickly learned--but because he didn't want to participate in killing anymore. Darius had never satisfactorily explained that change of heart--and a relatively recent one, at that--beyond that it had been mortal wars as much as their fight that he grew tired of and he didn't see the point of the deaths. Then, over a millennium ago, LaCroix hadn't understood. Couldn't. Now, in this century of great wars he did, although for a different reason. Eventually, the mortals and their wars would destroy them all. He might enjoy war and its spoils, even revel in it, but in the end it wouldn't benefit anyone. Eventually there would be a war for which there would be no winners. They hadn't agreed on much. Darius was a pacifist, had been for nearly a century even before that first meeting, but he had quite enjoyed talking with the priest. Darius had never turned him away when he had come to visit, not even after the basilica had been first destroyed then rebuilt. The last he had seen of the other man was nearly fifty years ago...the new church still stood, and Darius still lived there. He had never told Janette or Nicholas about the Immortal priest, although they had both met him. Once. That had been one of his more unexpected visits. He didn't want to share this secret with his son unless he had to, unless he was absolutely certain it was necessary. Nicholas and Darius would get along too well for his tastes if they ever talked. His son the white knight and the old reformed general... Finally, mere minutes before dawn, LaCroix heard keys in the front door and he quickly stood. He then stayed out of the way until Merlin had entered, swiftly locking the door behind him. When the other vampire turned, LaCroix blocked his path causing the other to start. "Damn it, LaCroix! If I were mortal... Why are you here?" "Information." "If Nick has left, you'll have to find him yourself. If I don't know I can't tell you anything, and if I do know I wouldn't. You know that." "Nicholas has not left, not yet." "The same goes for Janette," Merlin said as he walked around LaCroix and further into the house. "Janette is in Paris," he said, following. "Besides, I'm not here for that kind of information." "Then what? You don't rely on the services I provide, and that's not--" "Information," he repeated. "I want to know about your...customers." "My customers are none of your business." "I don't want specifics. I don't want their names or locations." "Then what do you want?" "I know you don't deal solely with our kind," he carefully started, watching the other man pull a bottle and wine glass out, then fill the latter absently. "Of course not, although I'm selective. I only work with--" "Cash payments--in full--and full identities, full backgrounds." "Yes." "But there are also others you run into... Others who are like us but not like us, yes?" Merlin went silent at that and avoided LaCroix' gaze, putting away the bottle of blood. "Immortals who are not vampires," he said outright, but the other man continued to ignore him, going about drinking the glass he had poured...half of it in one long swallow. "I want to know more about them." "I don't know what you're talking about," Merlin muttered and raised his glass again. LaCroix moved forward and spun the other to face him, knocking the half-full glass of blood from his hand. It crashed to the counter, blood and glass falling with a shattering squelch. "Don't lie to me." "I don't know--" He turned the younger man and bent him over, pushing his face into the broken glass, causing him to yell out. "Tell me, Merlin. I know you know about them." "Why do you want to know, LaCroix!? They don't know about us, they don't bother us, they--" He pushed down harder on Merlin's back and neck. "Tell me what you know about them." "Probably no more than you," Merlin forced out as he tried and failed to push up from the counter. "LaCroix, let me up!" "Once you tell me what you know," he hissed, leaning low over the other. "I really don't know much about them. Just what I can glean." "Then tell me what you have 'gleaned'. Now." "As you said, they're immortal, but not like us. They have a propensity for carrying swords around. I'm not fond of them as often when I switch identities it's because one of them has killed me so to speak. Like you right now, they sometimes try to get information from me about others like them, although they usually ask for names. They hunt and kill one another. Now let me up!" When Merlin tried pushing himself up off the counter again, this time LaCroix let him up, but turned the other vampire, wedging him between himself and the polished marble counter-top. "What kind of swords?" "Any kind of blade. I've even had an ax--" "How recently did you last meet one of them?" "I won't tell you that. You know I won't. And it's not like I can tell them apart from mortals. It's only the...crazy ones I can make guesses about, or those that have a particular manner to their speech and the like, but as they must adapt just as we must--" "Do any live in Toronto?" "I'm not telling you one way or the other. If they suspect I said a word I shouldn't, they'll have my head...and I'd like to keep it right where it is! I don't give out information on clients. It's bad both for business and if I want to keep living." LaCroix shoved Merlin back, hard, and watched the other vampire wince. "What do you know about how they live, how they hunt others of their kind?" "Nothing more than I told you! They carry swords, know how to use them, and worse, they aren't afraid to kill with them. They've killed me so often I've run out of ideas for my own name." "Ever run into the same one decade after decade?" "It's hard not to given they are immortal and so am I. Of course I have. My specialty with computer records is only a new addition to my services." "And?" "And what? I'm not giving you any names or estimated ages. I won't. I really don't know much about them." "But you know how to kill them." "As do you given you didn't seem surprised when I mentioned worrying about losing my head. And don't go hunting them if you want to keep yours. If you piss one of them off, either they will kill you just as they do their own, or the Enforcers will kill you both to keep our secret." LaCroix held Merlin in place, even as he squirmed, his protest almost a panic. He, himself, didn't much like the idea of the Enforcers coming down on him...and it wasn't something he had thought of being an issue. Merlin didn't know much more than he did--in fact he appeared to know less--but at least he had confirmation of a couple of things. "And they actively seek one another? Fight one another?" "Yes, or at least some of them. I don't think they have much choice when it comes to fighting--as far as I know, it's fight to win or die trying. I'm just some pawn in their game, some way to get to the others if they can get me to talk--and I don't. I wouldn't be surprised if some day one of them kills me. Permanently." "Perhaps you should consider a new service to provide, a new profession." "Well, if it gets much worse than it's been the last couple of decades, I just might. Now, are you satisfied and will you...either leave or help me clean this mess up?" He had no intention of cleaning, and he slowly released Merlin. "Thank you." LaCroix turned and headed back the way they had come. Disappointingly he heard Merlin following, and protests as he entered the living area off to the side of the entrance. "I'm not going to just let you stay here." "Oh, I won't be staying," he said, flashing a smile back at Merlin before his gaze refocused on the crossed swords on the wall. "No, those swords--" "Are not merely decoration, I take it?" "No, they are not, and...and don't go hunting them, LaCroix!" "I will hunt them if I wish." He didn't turn as he pushed the hilt of one sword up and free, which he then appraised in his hand. It had been some time since he last held a sword, but it felt just the same. This sword was relatively modern, 18th or 19th century by his guess. "Put it back." "Or what? Are you going to try and stop me?" LaCroix glanced back behind him for a second, then he pulled down the second sword. The two felt identical and were almost precisely the same length. He ignored Merlin as the other vampire approached behind him, until the last moment. Then he turned. Just seeing him with both swords seemed more than enough to get the other man to back away once more. "I want them back. *Undamaged*. Or I want compensation with a comparably unusual set. Your word, LaCroix." "My word," he whispered back, his eyes right on Merlin. "Was that an agreement, or--" LaCroix backed the other up, raising the saber in his right hand up to Merlin's shoulder and letting the blade slide along the other man's jacket collar. It effectively kept the other vampire from speaking. "You will have these weapons back, relatively undamaged, or will receive compensation." "When?" "I really don't know," he said with mock apology. "If you get yourself killed--" He raised the blade an inch, so that it touched the other vampire's skin. It immediately drew blood, and he smiled for a moment before again looking up and answering, "Then you will have to go through Nicholas, will you not?" "I...yes, I suppose I will." "I will inform him of our agreement." Merlin shifted, trying to slide away along the wall to the side to escape, but he was rewarded by having a second sword put to the other side of his neck. "If you kill me, you'll have one less person to argue with." Still upset that the other had initially tried to lie, LaCroix shifted the blades so that the one in his left hand angled upward more, and he pulled the sword in his right hand back. "I swear I don't know any more!" Merlin said, closing his eyes tight at the upswing of the sword. "Please, LaCroix. They don't know that I know anything about them or what they are. I can't exactly sit down and have a conversation with one of them and ask questions to fill in the blanks." LaCroix stopped, holding his position. No, he supposed Merlin couldn't just sit down with one of them. If one of his Immortal clients discovered what he was, what he knew, Merlin would probably end up dead. Meeting Darius--and finding out what he was--had been pure chance. If he hadn't stayed in the church, he would have never known the priest had revived. Slowly he brought the sword in his right hand back to the side of Merlin's neck. There he raised both, forcing the younger man to lift his chin to avoid having his throat sliced open. "If you want to learn more, you'll have to do your own research. Just...be careful. I would dare say some of them are even more twisted than you are, and... Just please be very careful." "If I meet any of them, they won't know I've ever met you or talked to you." "I'm not worried about me. From some of the things I've been asked, I think some of them have a habit of weakening their targets by going after their friends and families. Something you should know much about with the way you hound Nick. And you never let him get far. They'll find him and go for him." "Nicholas can take care of himself," LaCroix hissed at the warning. "I'm sure he can...*if* he knows what's coming. I'm sure you haven't ever told him about--" He raised the slightly slacked blades a little higher, forcing the other to stop talking once again. Merlin had been doing so well at keeping him from killing him, but he was beginning to go too far. "You don't know me. You don't know what I have or haven't--" He cut his tirade off when Merlin raised his hands and forced the blades apart with his bare hands. The sharp scent of blood abruptly cut into his senses, and he let the blood-smeared blades point at the floor as Merlin scurried down the hall, back toward the kitchen. He followed, eyes narrowed in anger. "You are more predictable than you think, LaCroix. And Nick... If he doesn't trust you--" "He trusts me. Implicitly." "Then make sure you tell him if you go hunting for these others. He's lost enough lately. I believe his partner was killed tonight." "How do you know about that?" "Because whenever anyone looks into his background I get a phone call or e-mail about it so I can fix things on the fly if necessary." "Part of your services?" "For those of our kind. I don't need the mortals to find out about vampires when they go digging, start asking questions. It'd bring the Enforcers down on me. My profession is dangerous. And time consuming." Merlin rinsed the blood off his hands in the sink, then asked, "Do you know if Nick plans to leave or stay?" "Why?" "Because they're-- The man who shot his partner died as well. Nick killed him. He's being investigated, and it could go badly for him. They're trying to dig into his Chicago records, and I really need to keep monitoring that, LaCroix." "I believe he plans to leave, to quit. I'm not sure...when," he admitted. "Well, he hasn't resigned yet, or not as of half an hour ago. Or if he has... No, they wouldn't be looking if he'd resigned, I suppose. And according to you he's still here, yes?" Merlin barely paused before adding, "Since you're here...whatever he does, I would advise he not just disappear as we can be prone to doing." He took a white washcloth and pushed the blood and glass from earlier into the sink. "Unless you plan to help me clean up, you might as well leave. Maybe...I don't know, be nice to him if you can. He's lost so much in recent years, and we all have a breaking point." LaCroix stiffened. Merlin had no idea how close to the truth he was, that Nicholas had already reached that breaking point. "Usually early on we hit some sort of epiphany about what we want, what role we want to take on." More glass clattered into the sink. "After eight hundred years, I don't think you've ever allowed him that. I can't think of any vampire that's lasted that long before either finding their place or ending--" Merlin cut off with a rough gurgle; LaCroix had stabbed one of the sabers right through the other vampire's heart from behind. "I didn't ask for nor do I need a lecture from you!" he hissed into the other man's ear as he held the dying vampire up until Merlin fell unconscious. Then he pulled the sword free and watched the younger man slump down to the floor and collapse, face first onto the tile by the cabinets. LaCroix had the urge to kill, to test the swords a little more, but Merlin still had his uses for the moment. There was Nicholas' life that had to be tidied away, at least to a point. And now Natalie's as well. Merlin's expertise would save him, at least for today, and he turned and left, both swords tucked under one arm. Future Tense - (04/36) Nick sat on a stool in the morgue and stared blankly down on Tracy's calm features as he waited for Natalie to return. She was changing out of the mishmash of her work clothes--only her skirt had been spared of blood--and one of his dress shirts. She had first set some things up for the autopsy, then left him there. He would admit to anyone he felt like a mess, and while Natalie didn't say it, this was his chance to say goodbye or apologize or whatever before she cut Tracy up. Even so, he didn't know what to say, not to Natalie, himself, or most importantly to Tracy...not that Tracy could hear him. The bandage over Tracy's head wound had been removed; her body was ready for autopsy. She almost looked like she was sleeping, and he wished she was. It was harder to see her than he had expected. Maybe it was because of what had happened to Schanke; Natalie hadn't let him near Schanke's body, or he should say what had been left of Schanke's body. He hadn't been able to say goodbye, hadn't even been able to go to the funeral. He blamed himself for that, for not taking the flight that crashed. And here he was again. If he had just left then... If and when Tracy woke, he had planned to tell her everything. Well, not everything. She didn't need to know Vachon had died or how. He would have kept to the story he had told LaCroix to plant barely a week earlier. That had all been for nothing. The nearly year of hiding what he was from her had been for absolutely nothing. If she had known from the start, would she have died at some other point before now? Or would she have left him to deal with Dawkins alone? One thing was certain: She wouldn't have had to try and back him up. She shouldn't have that night, though, either. He had thought she was going to go home. That's what she had told him when he had called her from the morgue. She was going to ask to go home. She must have slipped in after Dawkins, trying to help. Instead... Nick leaned over and gently kissed Tracy's forehead, whispering, "I'm sorry," as he hovered over her, brushing her bangs back. That was the one thing he was sure of, the one thing he wished he had managed to say to her before she passed out. It didn't matter that it probably wouldn't have erased the betrayal in her eyes, but he wanted and needed her to hear it. But it wasn't enough; it sounded empty without an explanation. "I'm sorry, Tracy. I should have... I don't know what I should have done differently, but you're right, I didn't trust you, not as I should have, not as I could have. I was supposed to be a good example, a mentor, someone you could trust, and I failed you. I trusted you would keep the secret of my kind, but didn't want you to know about me." He paused, her cold skin under his now still fingers that just lingered on her temple. "I didn't want to see your disappointment," he admitted. "I think that's why I didn't tell you in the end. My selfishness. You saw me as a normal, mortal human, and I didn't want to lose that. I didn't want to tell you what I was because you did see the evil in us, you didn't really trust us, and if you knew who I really was...what I really was... I'm not a good person, Tracy. I try, but people die because of it, because of me, because of who and what I am. I wanted you to live a normal life. A long life." "Nick?" He turned abruptly to find Natalie standing almost right next to him. He hadn't heard her come in--not movement of the doors, or her footsteps, not even her heart that he now heard so close. Nor had he heard her tears. "How long were you standing there?" "A while." She moved closer, touching Nick's face. "You're not a bad person, Nick. Tracy--" "She didn't know who I was," he said, pulling Natalie's hands down and sliding off the stool. "She had never, not once, even been inside the loft. She didn't know anything about me. Not really." "She knew enough, Nick." He nearly replied, but just shook his head. He didn't know anything anymore. Maybe she did, but it didn't change what happened. It didn't change that Tracy now lay dead on Natalie's autopsy table. "We'll talk about it later, okay? Nick?" "Yeah," he muttered, his eyes shifting back to Tracy. Again her peaceful features drew him in. "You should probably wait in the hall or wait in the break room. I'll let you know when I'm done." When he didn't budge, Natalie nodded down at Tracy and asked, "Do you really want to see me cut her open?" her words starting to break. Nick's eyes widened a bit at the horror of that thought, but he couldn't make himself leave. "Nat--" "I'll be okay, at least until I'm done. I already made you sit through one autopsy tonight. You really shouldn't stay in here for this one." "And you shouldn't be the one to do this autopsy. You shouldn't have to even--" "Nick, this is part of my job. And I'm sorry to say it's a pretty regular part of my job; more normal than earlier tonight, at least for me, even if-- I'll be okay. If I'm not, I'll join you for a bit, all right? Even if I am, I might check on you just to make sure you haven't wandered off or something." "I'm not going to wander off," he said, knowing what Natalie wasn't saying. Dawn was approaching. She worried he'd intentionally or unintentionally leave and she'd never see him again. With the uncertainty about what had happened to Natalie that morning he wasn't going anywhere, even if she told him to. "I'll stay in the hall right by the doors if you won't let me stay in here." "I won't." "I'll be able to hear you. If you want, you can ask if I'm there and I'll tap on the doors or something? That way you don't have to stop what you're doing just to make sure I'm still here." "Yeah, something." He wanted to give her a reassuring smile, but he couldn't. Instead he just first tore his eyes away from Tracy and Natalie, stared at a bare spot on the floor for a few seconds, then slowly, gradually, left. Once in the hall he paced, first slowly then more incessantly. It only took a few minutes before he heard Natalie--she could hear his steps. He had told her he was fine then did the only thing he could beyond pace--he slid down the wall next to the door and stopped trying to push his thoughts and emotions away. No tears came. He didn't know if that was because he had exhausted them for now or because there were too many mortals around him. As he sat there a tech or custodian or even another detective would walk by periodically. They looked on him with pity, a couple gave apologies. No one dared go near the door to autopsy, skirting both it and him as though they were poisoned. He didn't respond to anyone. He didn't deserve their condolences. Tracy and her family, that's who deserved them. Earlier, upon hearing that her father had arrived, he had left the hospital both to avoid any confrontation as well as because he felt like it would be an intrusion. He had already spent his time by Tracy's bedside, and he wasn't even family...just her lying partner. He dreaded the hearing that morning and contemplated asking Natalie if she thought he could blow it off. Surely Commissioner Vetter would either be there or be nearby. He had no idea what Tracy's parents thought of him, her father especially. She had only initially been assigned to him temporarily--it hadn't been planned to be permanent. And one way or another he had screwed up. Either by not telling Tracy what he was, for not realizing she was there behind him, or for killing Dawkins in anger. Or all three. Sitting, waiting, and periodically tapping hard on the door in reply to Natalie's ever more worried sounding voice, he felt more and more numb. He wanted to go home. No, he wanted to go somewhere other than home--he would smell and see Natalie's blood if he went to the loft. He didn't want that now, not that he felt even slightly hungry. He wanted to sleep, that's what he wanted. And to throw something over and over until every shard turned to dust. Nick didn't know how much time passed before Natalie finally came out to him in the hall. When she did, she looked absolutely totaled. Worse than she had at the start of the night when she'd been called to a crime scene as the medical examiner only to find a suicide note addressed to her. "God, Nick, you look worse than I feel, I think." "The sentiment is mutual," he muttered, then accepted a non-gloved hand. Between Natalie and the wall, he rather unsteadily stood. "Ah, do you need something--" "No. No, I've just been sitting there a while. Pretty much the whole time." "Then almost two hours. Come on, I want to show you something." "I thought you didn't want me to--" "I'm done with the autopsy. Completely, as in she's not on the table." "Nat, you should have--" "No, no, no, you did not need to be my assistant on this one, not on *any* task." He nearly protested, but Natalie simultaneously grabbed his hand and pushed the doors to autopsy back open, pulling him in with her. She stopped pulling him once she reached the counter, where he vaguely noticed several items laid out--a couple of slides and two scalpels--next to a microscope. "Hold out your hand, Nick." Hesitantly he obeyed, and she flipped his hand over so that his palm faced up. He realized what she planned and tensed when she picked up both scalpels. She used one to slice rather deeply through his palm, then quickly transferred a small amount to one of the slides. In another moment she repeated the action on her own palm and put some of that blood on the second slide. He had initially winced seeing her blood, but then he became mesmerized by their almost simultaneously healing wounds. Natalie's healed more in stages, and the deep cut left blood behind, whereas his wound reabsorbed the blood. "I heal just like you do," she said as she wiped what blood remained away with a paper towel from a box on the counter. "Or mostly. Larger wounds seem to bleed too much for the blood to absorb, but smaller cuts just vanish, blood and all." "Natalie, you--" "I had to, Nick. Too curious for my own good, haven't you told me that before? It's the same with this," she said nodding to the slides, which she next finished preparing. "I want to see if our blood is similar or not." He understood her curiosity and silently watched as she finished making the slides then looked at first her blood, then his, then hers again. "And? Anything interesting, Dr. Lambert?" "Well, you are...less anemic than usual, which I think we both know the cause of *that*. Mine is...I'm not sure. Pretty much looks like normal human blood. Want to take a look while I check something else?" He nearly asked a question, but she had taken one of the scalpels and moved away. He was curious and moved over to the microscope. Like Natalie had said, her blood looked--as far as he could tell--like normal human blood. He knew just enough that he could tell she had left out that *she* was anemic by counting the blood cells. Not nearly as anemic as she should be, but not totally healthy, either. Nick switched the slide and looked at his, more clearly not-quite-normal blood. She had pointed out the few visible differences of his blood compared to human blood in the past; she had needed to borrow time on an electron microscope to really look at it, however. She would probably have to do the same with her own if she wanted to know more. "Hmm, well..." He looked up and over to Natalie, who was looking at some slides on the counter in front of her. "Hmm, what?" "AB negative. My blood type hasn't changed. So that's another thing that's different with whatever I am compared to whatever you are." "Vampires don't have blood types." "The ultimate universal receiver. Me, I'm just...me. I'll have to see if I can make some calls, but later. Right now I need to change again and then we need to get to the precinct before it gets too bright out. I'll write up my report there, since it's...well, we still have a little while before nine." Nick didn't much like the sound of that, and he shook his head ever so slightly. He'd rather be burnt upon leaving than burnt going in, although he had brought a hat, gloves, and sunglasses in case Natalie finished late, so it didn't really matter. Over the next few minutes, he helped Natalie clean up from the tests and push the microscope back in place. Then, after she had returned in fresh clothes--probably something extra she kept there in case needed, or given it seemed a bit nicer and a pretty plum color, he suspected it had been something she ditched after some conference and forgot about--Nick startled a little as Natalie slid a box out from behind her desk and hoisted it up. It rattled a little, and he noticed her desk looked awfully bare. Nick almost questioned her, but then he remembered what she had said before they left the loft. She was going to resign. He'd have to clean out his desk, too, if he resigned. Or he should. There wasn't much there that he really cared about keeping or didn't want anyone else to see, but if he wanted to do things right, he'd have to clean his desk up. No loose ends. He wasn't going to leave the job for someone else. He took the box silently from Natalie and followed her out to her car, which was blissfully parked in the shade. He wished they had brought the Caddy, but Natalie had driven them to the morgue. On the other hand, he had a feeling she didn't want him driving. When distracted like he was now, he had a habit of drifting into oncoming traffic or right through red lights. It didn't matter that Natalie had died twice that morning and recovered, nor that he always corrected at the last moment and hadn't actually gotten himself killed. He didn't want to chance it, even if it was probably the best way out of his interview. Future Tense - (05/36) "So," Natalie started as she pulled her car out onto the street, then carefully asked, "Have you thought about if or when you'll resign? I know you said you were going to leave tonight, but..." "Before I meet with the review board. Or during or after. Sometime this morning, I guess." "Before we leave the precinct," she guessed. "Yeah." She glanced at Nick, watching him carefully stare out the window into the brightening sky. She really worried how he was doing. "Well, I brought my letter. We can--" She stopped speaking as the worst and sharpest headache she had ever felt tore into her skull, and she instinctively slammed on the brakes which resulted in several horns blown at her. "Nat?" She didn't answer, her mind trying to work out what was happening. A headache, a migraine was her best description, and while the feeling didn't dull, she seemed to be better able to handle it after a second. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped and she started the car forward again, trying to get out of people's way. "Natalie?" "I'm fine. I think. Strange headache," she said in explanation, but in reality she was still trying to think. She tried to file it away as some medical condition, but couldn't. For all intents and purposes it was a pretty standard headache...somewhere between a sharp migraine like how she imagined someone sensitive to light or sound might react and a pressure-laden sinus headache. But it was also too short to really be a true headache. "Pull off. I'll--" "No, no, it's gone, whatever it was," she brushed off, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, half-expecting Nick to pull on it. She sped up a bit. "Besides, if I do that, we might not make it. You'll get burnt and--" "And that's less time for both of us to square things away before I see the review board. But if it happens again, I'm driving. Can't properly do things right if we're..." "Both about to turn into my replacement's biggest headache of their career?" "Biggest--" "*Their* career," she repeated. Nick knew full well he'd managed that once in Toronto; he had woken up on her table. "To be honest, you mostly got passed off as some practical joke no one wanted to fess up to. As in you, who I saw." She paused, then teased a bit, "They never found the body of the hero that supposedly blew himself up, the hero that gave his own life to save quite a few lives in the process." "I didn't give my life." "Yeah, but I'm sure you know it could have turned out differently. By the time I saw you, your worst injury was a gash a tad up from your neck. What I was expecting was...well, bits, and only part of or maybe most of a body. There you were in one piece, but if your head had--" "I know." She glanced over at Nick, who was closing himself off by sinking down in his seat and turning to look out the window at the growing light. He didn't want to talk about that; he never had told her why he had done what they both knew was stupid, even for a vampire, although it had been her first hint that Nick had a death-wish of sorts. They hadn't really talked about what happened when she woke up the first time, either. She had seen it, known what had almost happened: LaCroix had been about to murder Nick. And Nick had looked so...calm at first, then just confused and panicked. He had been ready to die just as she had been. They would have to talk about that later...really talk. She had a habit of yelling at him when he did something she thought idiotic, and he didn't need that. She didn't think she could really yell at him, anyway, but she knew he was blaming himself--for Tracy, for her, probably even for hurting LaCroix--and she told him as firmly as possible, "You're a good person, Nick. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise, not me, not LaCroix, not Tracy's father, or the review board." "But that's what they're going to do, isn't it? Tell me I screwed up, got my partner killed. And I did kill Dawkins, Natalie. I lost control and killed him, and everyone knows it." "But you stopped him before-- Just think if you had been mortal. Tracy would still be dead. You'd be dead. Dawkins would have left the locker rooms and killed who knows how many others in his quest to get himself killed. And he would have. You didn't do anything wrong earlier this morning." "They'll blame Tracy." She kept her lips pressed tightly together and forced herself not to say it--that Tracy got herself killed. From everything Nick had told her and from the autopsy, that's exactly what happened. He had had no idea Tracy was in the locker rooms or that she had moved into Dawkins' line of sight...and Dawkins was facing Nick. Tracy had moved behind Nick without his knowledge and distracted Dawkins. She should have stayed put or tried to find some way to get off to the side. She had been in the worst possible place she--or anyone--could have been in. Even going with the assumption she was trying to back up her partner...well, if her partner wasn't a vampire, frankly, they'd have *both* been killed. Tracy was just trying, once again, to prove herself. That's what Natalie saw and she knew Nick had to see it, too. She had seen it get young cops killed before. From what she knew of Nick's first time as a cop, he had nearly caused something similar--he got his first partner shot, nearly killed, because he was too confident and thought he knew best. And Tracy had gotten herself into more than one jam by going off on her own, and if not for two vampires looking out for her--one she knew about and one she didn't--she very probably would have ended up dead much sooner. Tracy had been doing better lately, taking the time to learn from Nick rather than figure it out on her own, but all it takes is one fatal choice. She'd seen it happen before. By now they were in the precinct parking lot, but neither moved to get out of the car. "I don't want her remembered like that, Nat," Nick whispered after nearly a minute. She glanced over at him again. Yes, he knew what had happened. "Everyone knows what a cruddy night we've had, more or less, but not Tracy's last week or so." "LaCroix made her forget." "But not everything. Assuming she didn't remember, and assuming he had even gotten around to it. If so, then, well, she had arrested LaCroix, seen Vachon die, buried him, had LaCroix make her forget about the last two and make it seem like he simply left. With the way she was trying to find vampires around every corner, what's to say she didn't already remember or never really forgot? I'd about bet she either suspected or knew deep down that LaCroix was a vampire." "LaCroix...drugged her." "And he drugged me," she snapped back, causing Nick to turn sharply toward her. "Nat?" "I don't remember everything," she admitted. "And there's still a huge gaping hole between the restaurant and waking up at home, but I know he drugged me. And I remember him asking questions about me, about us. I'm pretty sure either he or you tried to get me to forget, but--" "It was me." After a moment, he asked, "How long have you known?" "I think I knew something was up from the start, but I didn't manage to piece things together and stop trying to convince myself it was some dream until you were shot. At the hospital, before I ran into him at your place, I got a glimpse of LaCroix and that goddamn smirk of his. I suppose I'll be seeing a whole lot more of him now. Especially if, well--" "If you're immortal." "Yeah." "Only if you stay near me, stay in my life. If you don't, he'll leave you alone." "Nick--" "If you are immortal...where does that leave us?" She was a little annoyed by this question and almost snapped, "Beyond that, let's see, we're both alive, which is better than dead, and I'm not a vampire, which is what you wanted. Oh, and you apparently can't kill me by feeding from me. So...pretty well off, I think." "Nat, I didn't mean to--" "We don't even know what I am yet," she said, cutting off his hurt-sounding, start of an apology. "LaCroix said not mortal or not an ordinary mortal. As far as we know I still age and I'll still, at some point, die a mortal death. But if I *am* immortal and you can't kill me by drinking my blood..." Nick had to admit, at least to himself, that sounded like the best-case scenario. Assuming it really was that simple. "Do you think LaCroix really knows what I am?" "He knows something. He's seen someone revive like you, I'm sure of it." "But you have no idea--" "The only things I've seen are vampires and variations thereon--carouche and hunters--and then whatever...whatever possessed me, but that wasn't..." He shook his head. "And even in LaCroix' two-thousand years he had never seen that, so... I don't know. Obviously vampires exist. Who's to say other supernatural beings, races don't exist as well?" "Except that you've never seen, I don't know, a werewolf or just a plain immortal?" "No. But LaCroix has, possibly, and I'm sure he'll explain." "You're sure he'll explain? Completely sure?" "There can't be that much to explain. I mean it's more or less a yes or no as to whether you're immortal, maybe what those like you call themselves, maybe a few other small details?" "Yeah, probably," Natalie answered, and maybe that was true, but she still didn't feel comfortable relying solely on LaCroix for answers. And at least for now, they really needed to head inside, so she got out of her car and brought a folder, her tape recorder, and headphones in with her. She hoped Nick would be too distracted or wouldn't be able to hear her recording played back. Granted, he probably heard it the first time around... As she reached the other side of the car, she could see that Nick hadn't budged. She then had to open the door and physically prod him into action. While his blood had looked good under the microscope, again he seemed unsteady, which made it hard for her not to ask if he wanted to see if he could do the hearing some other day. She doubted he'd be allowed, though, so she held back her thought as they went inside and headed to Nick's desk. She pulled a chair up next to Nick's as he went to get forms--both for his latest case that night, as well as his resignation by the looks of it--then she watched him start in on the latter. "Any paperwork can wait, Knight," Reese said moments later as he worked steadily through his resignation. "No, it can't." "It can wait until tomorrow night, or next week if it has to. And Dr. Lambert, you--" "I'm not leaving until Nick does," she said flatly. "That still doesn't change that--" "I'm going to resign," Nick said just as he harshly signed the hastily filled out form, then held it out. "Today." Reese took the signed paper and shook his head, handing it back. "The worst you'll get is a suspension and maybe a mandatory anger management class. The prelim on Dawkins--" "I don't need time off and I don't need counseling. I need to stop watching--" Nick shook his head, then stood and left, heading into the hall. Natalie stood to follow, at which Reese caught her by the arm. She tried to pull away, but his grip didn't budge. Nope, she didn't have any extra strength. "Let him go. It's going to take time for him to process this." Reese sighed. "And I hate to ask, but--" "I'm going to type up the report as soon as I get Nick back here." "Natalie--" "I am not leaving him alone. Being alone isn't what he needs." "Then convince him not to resign." "I can't and I won't." "Won't?" And then it hit him. "Knight's not the only one quitting over this, is he?" She pursed her lips. She hadn't planned on telling Reese until later, but he had guessed. "No, he's not. And it's not just this, it's not just tonight." With that, she again tried to go after Nick, and he thankfully let go of her arm. She headed down the hall and didn't even hesitate at the doors to the men's restroom. While it wasn't his typical place to flee to, she knew he wouldn't want to go into one of the observation rooms or interrogation rooms--he'd be going there later. She found him leaning over one of the sinks. His usual hard shell was starting to crack. She didn't pay any attention to another detective, who scurried out upon seeing her. Once the door shut, she told him, "Well, Reese knows I'm quitting now, too." "And?" "And... I think he's just worried we haven't thought this through. You, especially. I didn't give him a chance to say anything after I confirmed I'm going to resign." "Did he say anything more about my impending interrogation?" "No. I think that's another thing. So much has happened in the last, what, half a day? And that's just with what Reese knows, what everyone here knows." She watched him turn on the water and splash it on his face, rubbing his skin. Had his emotions taken over again? Had more blood tears stained his cheeks? Or was he simply trying to regain his focus? "Nick?" He pulled out a paper towel from the dispenser and blotted his face, drying the water quickly off. "Do you think I can do this? Get through the meeting and probably get...I don't know what Tracy's father will say or do, or what to say in return. I don't know how I feel right now. I'm angry and upset, but also numb at the same time." "Yes, Nick, I think you can do this," she slowly and firmly repeated back to him. "If you're worried about--" "Falling apart, either apologizing over and over or...or breaking the table into two." "You'll do fine. And don't worry about Tracy's father. He'll probably be in shock, just like you are." "I've felt the numbness before, but not like this. It doesn't seem to be going away." Natalie tried to smile at least a little as she approached and pulled the barely damp but rather chilly paper towel out of Nick's hand. It wasn't one bit pink-ish, and she silently dabbed a little more of the cold water off his face. She wished she could tell him something that would actually help. Once they left, she would have to try and get him to let whatever monster he was holding in out. He was too good at putting on a facade for others, like right now. Finishing with his face, she considered kissing him. Instead, she silently pulled him into an embrace, which he tightly returned. "You'll do fine, Nick." "I feel like a...a deer caught in some semi-truck's headlights. I probably look like one, too." Natalie didn't refute the comment. Nick *did* look exactly like that--it's how he seemed to react to situations like this, he'd freeze up, then run off--and she told him, "Just focus on getting through the morning. If it's a question from the review board or Reese or whomever, focus on answering, replying to the question, even if you have to repeat it back. If it's not...don't worry about it." Pausing, she slid her hand up his back to his neck; he leaned over her shoulder more, holding her even more snugly. "You will get through today, and we will get through whatever is happening with me," she assured him. And it was a good thing, too, as a moment later she heard the door open behind her, along with a muttered apology and then whoever it was left again...and Nick let go, pulling away. "Nick?" "We should go back to the others." "Because someone walked in?" "Yes. They probably think--" "You're entitled to react a whole lot worse than you are, than you have, or than whatever the worst they think you've been doing the last few minutes. Don't beat yourself up for showing emotion, not here and not whenever you get home. They understand. Either they've been where you are or they at least have probably thought about it." She stopped and noticed Nick had gone back to looking rather blank. "I'm not making things worse, am I?" "No, no, you're not making me feel worse. It hasn't hit yet, not really. I thought it had, but--" "What happened with me kind of altered things," she guessed, then watched him slowly nod. "Come on," she said and took his hand, leading him back into the hall and toward his and Tracy's desks. Getting there, however, he changed her plan and she ended up sitting where Nick had been. "Work on your report, Nat. I think I'm just going to sit here for a moment." She didn't feel quite right about that, especially since Nick's attention seemed to be on her...his eyes glancing to her tape recorder. "You should probably--" "I want to know. It'll be...I'll find out from the review board, anyway. It might be easier if I...listen in as you work on the report they'll probably be throwing in my face." Natalie winced, but she knew he was right. The review board wanted her report, her findings, before Nick met with them. "All right, but--" "I won't ask any questions and I won't walk off regardless what I hear. I'll leave you alone so you can get through it as quickly as you can." "You can prod me all you want, Nick," she said, trying to give him a smile. It didn't work all that well, but it seemed to soften his worried features a little. Future Tense - (06/36) The next several hours went horribly, or at least it felt that way for Natalie. At first she did her report. Part way through, Nick started to try and write up what little he could on Laura Haynes' suicide. She could tell that wasn't going very well and it kept distracting her from writing up her findings on Tracy's autopsy. Tracy had been the one to deal with the scene while Nick went with her, kept her grounded for that autopsy, and Nick and Tracy hadn't really talked about the case at all. There hadn't been time. Tracy had gone back to the precinct and Nick had still been at the morgue when what eventually led to Tracy's death had begun. For long stretches of time Nick seemed to just stare, but as he had so little to write, she suspected if he'd managed it in one shot it would have taken less time than filling out his resignation. He finished long before she did. Then, rather than just sit there or work on cleaning out his desk, he dealt with other things. First he handed in his gun and badge, which had been a bit distracting as he hadn't told her what he was doing and so she had asked when he returned. Then he started another bit of work--writing up what happened. She worried he was pushing himself too hard, pushing himself to get everything tidied away properly. Even more so, she worried Nick would lie when asked what happened. The review board would know. She heard something about having at least some security footage, and between that, the location of Tracy's wounds, and her findings... Natalie had a feeling the review board knew more or would know more about what had happened than she did. Maybe even more than Nick did. She gave her report to Reese the moment it was done. In the end, Nick crumpled up his last attempt to work. He then almost started again, but quickly gave up and pulled out a drawer. She then offered to go get him a box, but he refused. In the end, he hadn't pulled much out; the drawers were about as empty as they could be beyond necessary items as it was. She knew Nick had gone through his desk after Schanke had tried investigating Nick, more or less even figured out what he was, then again after Schanke had died. He had more or less quit then. Then, while she didn't ask if he had, she suspected Nick either pulled out what he could and tried to avoid keeping too many personal items at his desk with Tracy knowing about vampires. He hadn't wanted Tracy to realize what he was or find anything that might make her ask too many questions. Even so she had connected him to Janette...and he probably pulled out more after that. After ten or so minutes, Nick had added a small stack of papers to the top of his desk, with a few photos...all from before Tracy was his partner, which she noticed seemed to bother him. It was just another reminder of how he hadn't let Tracy get close to him in other ways. To any of the other detectives, Natalie knew it wouldn't look like Nick had cleaned out his desk. Only those who had watched him open and then sort through each drawer would suspect he had plans of resigning. Then, finally, at a few minutes after nine, Reese called Nick back to one of the interview rooms. She followed him, keeping one of his hands held tightly in hers until they reached the door where they shared a quick glance before he went into the room. Natalie had then followed Reese, and after a slight bit of begging on her part and hesitation on his, they both went into the adjoining observation room. She wanted to be able to keep an eye on him and have an idea how bad off he might be later. She couldn't really do that from the hall or his desk. The downside to watching, listening to Nick being questioned, was Reese watching them both. Nick hadn't had the chance to lie--those interviewing him had explained about the security footage, which while it hadn't captured where Tracy had been hiding when Nick had gone into the locker rooms to talk Dawkins down, it had caught more than enough...and thankfully hadn't caught Nick vamped out, nor what he had done to Dawkins. When it came to answering questions, Nick either did extremely well or extremely badly depending upon whether one considered the rather flat tone to his voice and his neither overly slow nor quick answers to be 'good' or not. Natalie would say bad; if he had something to focus on, someone to go after like he had with Schanke, he'd be doing far better. With Tracy it had just happened and catching who had done it was...well, a moot point. Nick couldn't kill Dawkins a second time. As the review board got to that part, she winced when his responses slowed. "I tried to get them to wait as long as I could." Natalie tore her eyes off Nick and looked at Reese. "Couldn't do much because of Tracy's father. He wanted this settled as soon as possible." "By the way, where is Commissioner Vetter?" she asked in a whisper, but suspected Nick had already caught on their conversation. "Probably here already. He plans to talk to the review board the moment they're done. I don't think he's going to like what he hears. Vetter wants someone to blame for what happened to Tracy, and however much he might be the obvious choice to pin it on, it's not Knight." Natalie stiffened, suspecting what was coming. "Captain--" "I think we all know what happened. She always wanted to prove herself--to her partner, me, her father, and everyone else. Even Tracy's father won't be able to blame Knight for this, not convincingly. Knight will get more flack for what he did to Dawkins. He's deceptively strong." Then, after a pause, Reese added, "Not that that really matters if he's resigning. There's nothing I can say to get him to reconsider, is there? Anything to get either of you to reconsider?" "No, there isn't." "And does he understand that quitting like this... If he stays, it's not the end of his career. If he leaves, he's going to have a hard time getting hired back to the department. Any department, not just this one. It'll look like he broke under pressure. Whether he actually did or not won't matter." "I think he knows." "And he'd take the blame if the review board would let him, wouldn't he?" "Yeah," she whispered, looking back through the one-way glass at Nick, who glanced up toward her. Yep, he was definitely listening to her conversation with Reese. "Do you know what he plans on doing, if he has plans on--" "Nick...I know he's thought of moving a couple of times. So probably that." "Back to Chicago?" "I have no idea," she said, although she suspected he wouldn't move back to Chicago. Nick had, actually, lived in Chicago before Toronto; it was a little too soon for him to move back. "And you're resigning to go with him?" "Yes." "I'd remind you both that there's no policy explicitly forbidding a more personal relationship between you two, but--" "That's neither stopping us nor why we're leaving," she finished. She couldn't really tell Reese what was probably the biggest reason Nick had to leave, if not tonight then soon, probably within the next year or so--he wasn't aging and he could only do so much to his appearance to hide that. He managed a few years younger than older much better and easier, and he was now about four years older on paper than he had been when he had become a vampire. It wasn't a lot, but it would become more obvious in another year or two. Nick would have to leave, regardless, and she had long known he would never let her come with him as long as she remained mortal. That had changed that morning, although not quite as either of them expected. She hoped he would let her come with him when he left. "When you put in your resignations, I'll put in for whatever vacation time each of you have." "We don't need--" "A few more weeks' worth of regular pay before...whatever? Think of it as moving expenses, or maybe take an actual vacation. If you want your jobs back before it's gone, there won't be a hassle." "We won't." "Then might as well take the regular paycheck." She wanted to protest--she knew Nick would never bother. He, after all, was in reality filthy rich. He literally had millions. He didn't even need a few more weeks of his piddly cop's salary, but to Reese to refuse would be a mistake or at the very least a foolish decision. Any sane person would take the no-hassle continuation of their pay, along with a few weeks to be sure about such a big decision. "I'll ask him before we leave, but we might not bother." "Just, well, if you don't get called back in for something... I have a feeling you two won't be sticking around that long after they're done, Knight especially, so...take care of one another, all right? Make sure he knows my offer to talk still stands, and I want to at least hear from you once you settle somewhere." When Reese said to take care of one another, all Natalie really heard was to take care of Nick. Reese didn't know about all that had happened to her that night. She barely remembered walking into that first crime scene, or Nick driving her away. "I can't guarantee anything." "No, you can't, but if Nick can't or won't, then I hope I'll hear from you?" She froze once more, and yet again she couldn't really say anything to that. "I'll try, but I don't know when we'll leave or where we'll go, or even how long we'll stay once we do." "You'll be fine, both of you will be fine with a little time, I think." Reese nodded toward the room beyond the glass; the review board was done and stood and filed out. "Leave your resignations on my desk if I get caught up in the impending mess and you don't get a chance to give them to me directly. If you don't want me to put you two in for your time off, just leave a note and I'll get your leave cashed out instead." Natalie nodded, then started for the door. Nick wasn't making any move to leave the other room or even get up from where he sat. "And Dr. Lambert?" She stopped, hand on the door. "I know Knight has issues with being outside during the day, so I suppose neither of you will be at Tracy's funeral?" "Probably not, but I really don't know." "Well, if you're not...good bye and good luck, Natalie. The same to Nick." She gave Reese a partial smile, then she left the room. In the hall she saw the members of the review board and, yep, Commissioner Vetter. He didn't look a whole lot better off than Nick, and she managed to duck into the interview room without being pulled aside or stopped by anyone. She first shut the door and then walked over to him, where she leaned back against the table and tried to get him to look at her. "Nick?" "They said it was Tracy's fault, that she should have known moving into the open could have not only gotten herself killed, but me as well." "I'm sorry, Nick." "If I stay, I'll have a week-long suspension for what happened to Dawkins, and that's only if the autopsy shows I killed him. They're not sure it will." He shook his head. "Nothing else, Nat, just the suspension. Nothing. Just a week off...which I might have been given, anyway. I told them I wasn't." "Did you hear what Reese said? That he could--" "Put us in for our vacation time." "Yeah." She brushed back his hair, which finally got him to look up. "Do you want to, or...?" "Might as well. I can always give it back to the department. I will, anyway." Natalie smiled at that and said, "Hmm, yes, a bonus from their mysterious donor of the last few years." "Tracy would have figured it out this year. She saw the picture of me and Janette, knew--" "Shh, come on, we can talk more about that once we get you home," she said and pulled Nick up to a standing position. It wasn't as difficult as she expected it would be. "I don't want to go back to the loft," he mumbled once he had stood. "Can we go to your place?" "Ah, won't LaCroix--" "He can wait. Better yet, he can clean up the mess he made." Natalie winced. She hadn't quite thought about that. Her blood probably stained the floor at Nick's; she didn't blame him for not wanting to be around it. Her apartment was also closer than his, which she supposed was another reason to go to hers. "Yeah, we can go to my place." Natalie then tried to start Nick out of the room, but unlike when she helped him up, he didn't want to budge. "Tracy's father is here," he whispered when she tugged on his hand a second time. She let her arm slack, but gripped Nick's hand tighter at that. His senses seemed to be on overdrive and she confirmed, "Yeah, I caught a glimpse of him before I came in here." "And?" "And I was right. I don't think he's much better off than you are." "Did he look...I don't know, like he wanted to kill someone." "No, he...he looked a lot like you do right now, to be honest. Tired and in shock." She sighed, then tried to pull Nick forward again. He moved, but only a little. "All we have to do is walk back to your desk, one of us needs to either hand our resignations to Reese or put them in on his desk, then we can leave. I can even go deal with that and bring your things back here, if you want?" Getting a slow but firm nod, Natalie gave his hand a squeeze and left. She hurried, not wanting to risk him wandering out of the room on his own before she got back to him. Not seeing Reese--or Commissioner Vetter--she ended up putting their resignations on Reese's desk as he had said she could. It felt a bit impersonal, but at least he already knew what they were doing. He wouldn't be surprised and Nick wouldn't have to possibly field questions from Tracy's father if they took just a little too long. Walking away from Nick's desk, she felt a bit odd. A day ago, resigning wasn't on her to-do list, at least not at any particular time. And yet here she was, possibly leaving for the last time. It'd depend on what kinds of cases they got in the next few days, how long it took to get a replacement, and when she and Nick would actually leave. Natalie almost hoped they'd leave that evening, if only because she didn't want to either leave Nick alone or with LaCroix at the loft, nor did she want to drag Nick back to the morgue. He had spent too much time there last night. So had she, for that matter. It was time for them both to rest and...she didn't know what was next, but knew whatever it was wouldn't come until nightfall. First, they had to get through the day. Future Tense - (07/36) The ride to Natalie's apartment had been even more silent than the ride from his place to the precinct. Then, once they had headed up to her apartment, Nick barely listened as Natalie spoke to him. When she stopped to get something to eat and feed her cat, instead of taking a shower and/or changing into something more comfortable as he vaguely remembered her suggesting, he ended up following after her a few minutes later. He didn't particularly want to be alone. He and Natalie also hadn't talked, not really...especially about what had happened to her or what they would do next. They had talked about them in general, about what Natalie's friend had said in her suicide note and journal, and a little about what had happened with Tracy. That was it. He stopped outside one of the entrance-ways to the kitchen, watching as she smiled sadly at her cat, brushing his fur back a couple of times. "Nick..." Natalie said as she stood. "Are you...okay?" "I have no idea. Sydney still seems to like me, which is good I suppose." "He's not afraid of you like he is of me," Nick stated, inching a little closer. "So whatever you are isn't evil, it's not--" "You're not evil, Nick." "Vampires are predators, a threat. Animals can sense that, and Sydney...we didn't exactly get off to a good start." "Which I suppose could also mean he is just used to me and whatever is different... Either he doesn't care or...something." "Maybe, but... Nat, to me you seem like a regular human, a mortal. I can't tell that there's anything different or special about you." "By seem you mean, what, my presence, or--" "Yeah, I guess," he said, then realized, "But I'm trying to compare you to--as if you were a vampire." "What about my blood? Does it smell different to you?" "I don't know, I don't want to--" He shut his eyes with the hope to stop himself, but just the mention of blood was too much and the scent of her blood became amplified. More than that, it did seem a little different, but only because he was so familiar with it. "It's has a slightly stronger and sweeter smell than it did before." "So my blood smells better to vampires?" "Maybe. Or just me. I did feed from you, Nat, and recently." "Well, regardless *what* I am, as I said before, I'm starving." She went to the refrigerator, opened the freezer, and pulled a boxed meal out. "I didn't have a proper lunch and between the bagel for breakfast and a doughnut I snuck at the precinct...I need some real food." When she didn't open the box and just stood there, he told her, "I don't mind watching you eat...as long as you don't try to get me to eat any of it." "Yeah, but it's late, almost noon, and--" "I want to stay here with you," he finally said more outright, and that was that. He remained quietly nearby as Natalie put the frozen tray of food in the microwave and started it up. Then he did the same as she started to eat, but the silence only lasted a couple more minutes. "Nick," Natalie said between bites, "I know you were planning to leave Toronto, and that you had at least thought about it before, but you never said anything about where you might go. Do you have a plan for where?" "No, I don't have a plan," he admitted. "To be honest, I hadn't gotten to that stage, unless vaguely deciding to leave tonight, last night, with LaCroix counts. And I have no idea where he planned to go." "Do you have any ideas or preferences?" "Not really. Not back to Chicago. Anywhere you want to go or anywhere you ever wanted to move but couldn't for whatever reason?" "Me?" "Yes, you. I've seen the world, Nat. Even as a mortal--" She nodded. "I know, you had already been to Wales and the Holy Land. But if I am immortal...I mean, I have time." "But if you're not..." "Well, then, we can wait to decide until after we know. But regardless, I think we should go somewhere you want to go. That's what I want." Nick stiffened, not liking that she was deferring to him. He wanted Natalie to pick where they went, not to tell him to decide. As he also didn't want to argue, he remained quiet and watched her finish her meal. Somewhere in the next few minutes, Nick assumed he zoned out. He didn't really think about anything unless replaying the shooting counted. Suddenly Natalie was pulling him by the hand back to her bedroom, where she had taken him when they initially arrived. He didn't remember standing or if she had said anything to him. "Nick?" He glanced at Natalie, his surroundings still a bit fuzzy. "I'll be right back; I'm going to change. You can do that while I'm getting ready for bed." Nick parted his lips to protest, but she had already grabbed her things and turned to leave. She had laid them out earlier, including something for him to change into. Or, well, a t-shirt, more specifically a plain one of his she had borrowed at some point and hadn't brought back. He just stared at it for what felt like several minutes before he did as Natalie suggested, first pulling off his jacket and shirt and slipping on the t-shirt, then somewhat awkwardly taking off his shoes, socks, and slacks. He didn't feel overly exposed in just the t-shirt and his boxers, but he felt odd. This, after all, wasn't his home. Aware Natalie planned to go to bed, to sleep, Nick left the room and pulled an extra pillow and blanket from a small hall closet and went to the sofa. Initially he sat, fingering the blanket. He only got it because he knew Natalie would, later. Same with the pillow. He didn't need either, but knew using them would make her feel better. Just as he set the pillow on one arm of the sofa, he saw her approach. Her lips were pursed, making her look angry, and he looked down at the floor as she reached him and took his hand. She pulled on it, but he pulled back just enough that she couldn't budge him. "Nick, you don't need to sleep out here." "I should. I'll probably wake up from my dreams, and--" "You mean nightmares." "Probably. Or memories." "And you'd rather be alone?" He nearly said he would, but couldn't manage to speak. "Please come with me to my room. Or if not we can both try to sleep here, because I don't know about you, but I could use the company. I'm afraid if I close my eyes I'll start dreaming about LaCroix staking me. But if you really want to be alone, I'll--" "No, I just--" He tugged on Natalie's hand so that she moved a little closer. Taking her other hand, he told her, "I could--" "Kill me? Again?" "Yes. While I don't feel remotely hungry or--while I don't feel drawn by your blood right now, yes, I could take your blood again without warning." "And? We already know I'll come back from *that*." He felt panic at Natalie's comment and her faint smile. "Maybe. We don't know for sure--" "We might not know the specifics, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't some random, by chance, recovery." Nick wanted to argue, but knowing he'd already lost on at least one point, he tried another, "If I take your blood, I'll kill you and--" "And if it's anything like this morning, I think it's a pretty pleasurable way to die. A whole lot better than being staked, that's for sure. And I could certainly tell that you enjoyed taking my blood. I felt and saw things from your past, other times you've either fed or been in pain or--" "You remember what you saw? You could see things from my past?" "A little. Isn't that normal? I mean you've said--" "With other vampires it is. With mortals, I...I don't really know what the mortal feels. They usually end up dead, and dead they can't exactly tell me. Especially lately, as I haven't fed from a human for--I haven't fed with the main or even side goal of pleasure for a long time. While I vaguely remember the one time I was fed from as a mortal, when LaCroix..." He shook his head. "Everything that happened afterward makes me doubt what I felt then. And, Natalie, taking the blood from someone you care about, someone you...love...is far different from taking it in hunger or anger." "Well, other than feeling a bit weird when I woke up, to be honest it was rather like...falling asleep when you're really tired after, ah..." He saw her look away, a bit embarrassed, and he smiled a little. He was glad the pleasurable feelings, sensations, had outweighed the bad for her. It didn't change that from when she passed out until when she woke he had to look at her seemingly dead body; he didn't want to see her dead for a third time that morning. "Point is, I'm okay with it. I'm not asking you to purposely feed from me again, just saying that if it happens... Nick?" He tensed when she touched his face. She once again looked at him, clearly concerned. "If you really don't want to be too close to me, one of us can take the bed or couch, and the other can sleep on the floor. I neither want to leave you alone nor be alone myself, and I can't get the windows quite as well covered in here, no matter what I try. Please, Nick." After having pled her case, she tugged on his hands again, and this time he stood and let her take him to the other room. He felt a tad bit of relief as they just lay on the top of the covers in the near pitch-blackness of the room. Natalie didn't try to either hold onto him or get him to do the same to her. They just lay on their sides, facing one another, hands held between them. The downside to this quiet time where they had nothing to do beyond sleep or continue to watch one another was that Nick started to feel more torn. Here they were, alive, and Tracy was dead. He and Natalie had been ready to die, or at least ready for the possibility--he had felt it in her blood in addition to her telling him before he had fed from her--and Tracy... "Why you and not her?" he asked, then immediately brought one hand up to her lips, fearful his question had hurt her. "I mean I'm glad you're--" "Shh, I know what you mean." Nick paused for a moment then said what really bothered him, "She was only twenty-five years old, Nat. I never even got to see her turn a year older. She was twenty-five when we first became partners, and twenty-five this morning." "Nick...I know it's not what you want to hear, but--" "Don't tell me she would have gotten herself killed eventually, or remind me that she should have died months ago, or tell me she would have died eventually, whether next week or fifty years from now. She's gone. There's nothing..." He closed his eyes, then felt Natalie pull him closer. He didn't resist, couldn't, but was also thankful when she didn't tell him whatever it was he didn't want to hear. He had probably said it. He just let her hold him for several minutes. He didn't end up crying, but he felt like he might as well have. "I don't remember if I told you what Tracy said to me when she was shot. It's not even what she said, but how she said it." "Nick..." "She had seen me, seen what I was, what I did to Dawkins," he started, knowing he had to tell Natalie whether or not he had told her before. He knew he hadn't told her everything, even if he had mentioned it. "She told me...she said, 'You could have trusted me,' and it was just... She didn't seem one bit surprised. It was almost like she knew or at least suspected..." "She took a bullet--" "Don't tell me she couldn't display emotion," he said, trying to pull away, but Natalie held him too tight for how he felt. "She could. She did. While she didn't sound or look surprised...it was more an accusation. An accusation of my betrayal and her disappointment that I hadn't trusted her. That hurts so very...it would have been different if she had fallen unconscious immediately, but she didn't. I could see her putting the pieces together. I could see that the last thing she thought of, the last thing she saw was her lying, untrusting partner. The one person that should trust her and she should be able to trust. She held up her end, but I didn't hold up mine." "Trusting someone to back you up is in a whole different category compared to trusting someone with your biggest secrets, secrets that could get them hurt or worse. You didn't tell Tracy because it was bad enough she knew about Vachon and Screed." "But they both died, Natalie," he protested, but stopped trying to push away from her. "And I was all right with leaving the knowledge of us, of vampires, with her. She had no idea what killed Vachon, that that something was tied to me, even if indirectly. I should have...I should have told her what I was after Vachon died, or--" "Yes, they both died. But Nick... Would you really have stayed much longer? The last week you've been... LaCroix would have tried to get you to leave within the next few days regardless of what happened last night, wouldn't he have?" "I...probably." "And then what? You had no reason to tell Tracy what you were. She knew enough and, I hate to say it, but with all the vampires she knew about dead and gone she was probably safer. She didn't have anything to pry into, and if you are at all worried she wasn't ready to be a detective...think what her knowing that she had a vampire as her partner would mean for whenever you did leave. She would have become used to you being able to do whatever...and even if nothing happened with you as her partner, it very possibly would have with her next partner." He let his eyes open at this. Why did Natalie always have to be so logical, so right about things like this? He would have left before too long, he had almost done so after Schanke had been killed, but when he found out Tracy had run into another vampire--a younger vampire he didn't feel he could trust, not really--that had been part of why he stayed so long as it was. And Natalie was dead on that if Tracy did know he was a vampire, she might forget what it was like to have a mortal partner, or she might overestimate his abilities and feel safer in situations than she really was. Like that morning. Even if she had known he was a vampire, what was there to stop her from doing the exact same thing? Nothing. "It took you two, almost two and a half years before you told me about LaCroix and Janette, and only because he, well, drained someone and that someone ended up on my table. Even then, I think you considered just letting me wonder if you had done it, letting me think you had lost control." "She was still too young, Nat. And you're too--" "Oh, no, don't even tell me I'm too young to be either dead or stuck at my current age. I'm about the same age as you were." "And I think it'd be easier if I were a little older. I'd have more employment options, for one." "I don't feel like I'm either too old or too young if I'm stuck at this age. Maybe...maybe ask LaCroix sometime how he feels stuck *his* age. He's, what, about a decade or so older than us? Just think if he ever wanted to, I don't know, study for some career." Nick couldn't imagine LaCroix taking university courses, although to be honest that had less to do with his age and more to do with LaCroix himself. And that didn't change what had happened. He could have brought Tracy across. There was time at the hospital. He could have done it, saved her life by making her like him. "If I had saved Tracy, she'd--" "Be stuck at twenty-five. She hated being, what, the youngest or one of the youngest detectives in the whole greater Toronto area? She always felt like she had to prove she had earned her position, and not just to her father or you, but to every single person she worked with. If you had brought her across, she would have been doing that for centuries instead of a few more years. I remember what it was like being her age in a field dominated by men--men usually at least a decade older than myself, if not twice my age. It wasn't what I'd call fun. And then...well, if you're worried about Tracy's father now, just think what would have happened if her body went missing. When you brought Richard across, you had an accomplice that was family. All hell would break loose if we had somehow gotten Tracy out of the hospital." "She would have hated me even more." "Well, I don't know about that, Nick. She'd--" "She would have resented me, like I resent LaCroix and Janette," he guessed, and another thought came to him. "I don't think she would have wanted to become a vampire. Not that I could have asked, but from the couple of times I saw her with Vachon... I don't think she really liked vampires, trusted us. I mean we kill and she--her job is to catch killers, not let them go. It would have been even harder if she had become a vampire." Closing his eyes, he pulled Natalie as close as he could. "You were right to stop me." "And what do you think about the other? How I pushed you into--" "I could have walked away. I didn't have to--I knew you'd probably already either be at my place or that you'd come by before LaCroix came to get me." "But I pushed it, I kept--" "If one of us has reason to hate the other for how that turned out, it's you, not me. I took too much and killed you. While that didn't quite go as it should have...whatever happened to you, you have to live with that, live with what I did to you." "Then I will have to live with it." "But now...I almost think this might be worse than if I had brought you across," Nick admitted. "Why?" "If I had brought you across, you could still work on curing me, curing us, but now..." "If I am immortal--" "If you're immortal, I don't know if I'd want you to keep looking for a cure," he stated, shutting his eyes again. "Nick...you've wanted to become mortal again--" "Since the night I woke up like this. But things...things have changed. We need to figure out what this means for us, first, and we need to know what you are to even do that." "It'll be okay. We'll know what I am, what, in a few more hours? I can even set my alarm so we can leave here right at sunset?" When Natalie tried to twist away from him, Nick held her in place. "No, don't...unless you want to go over right then?" "Ah, no, I don't really want to see him any sooner than I have to." "Then don't set it. The more we sleep the better, probably." Then, quietly, he added, "If we can sleep." "Well, we won't know until we try. I am kind of tired, but if you want to talk some more--" "No, I think I need to sleep." While he did want to talk more, they couldn't without repeating what they had already said. "Maybe it will help how I feel." Then he revised, "How I physically feel. This is going to take time, regardless. For both of us." Nick tensed a little as Natalie kissed him--not on the lips, just on the cheek. She still wanted to comfort him, was trying to somehow make this easier for him. He at least knew it would be hard for himself to sleep. He had already experienced a few flashes to when Tracy had been shot...while still awake. And nightmares were nothing new or unusual for him. Natalie knew that, too. Probably knew that if he did sleep, he wouldn't sleep much. And Natalie...he knew she was affected by things like this just like anyone else, but in the past he was either too preoccupied to notice her reaction or he didn't stick around. The last time he had been to her apartment was after she had nearly had her heart cut out...and rather than stay the day once he had gotten her home, he had left once she had fallen asleep but before the sun rose. She had been upset with him, then, but she hadn't really gone beyond telling him in an annoyed voice that he could have stayed. She knew it was a bit of a pattern for him, that he tried to keep distance between them. After he had left, had she had nightmares like he did? He didn't know. She never told him and he hadn't asked. Soon after that, he had been shot and lost his memories of who he was, what he was, his past, everything... He had been shot pushing Tracy out of the way of a bullet meant for her. If not for him, she would have died then. Nick shut his eyes and just tried to relax and focus on nothing. It didn't take long before shots rang out in his mind and he watched Tracy slide dazed down the wall, her eyes right on him. Various images from that popped into his thoughts over and over, not always in order. Then, as he heard an echo of Natalie's scream from that morning, he couldn't stop himself from jerking a little as it jolted him wide-awake. This was going to be a long day. Future Tense - (08/36) Later that day, near sunset, Nick stirred. He wasn't fighting his memories or dreams, nor was he quite waking. He twitched at a strange tickling sensation at his neck, then went fully back to sleep. He stirred again at the feeling of something touching his back, but when he went to push it away, it stopped. The annoying sensation appeared again at his neck, and he swatted his hand back hard and fast toward whatever was touching him. He woke with a gasp, his hand sliced open. Turning, he found LaCroix...and a rather sharp looking, slightly curved sword pointed at his neck. He pushed the sword's bloody tip away again, this time by the flat side of the blade, then his eyes darted to Natalie. She hadn't woken. Quickly but carefully Nick pulled his other hand out from under her, then he almost startled again as LaCroix took his hand and forearm and helped him up. As soon as he got to his feet, however, he pushed LaCroix from the room. He found his sire's silence to be...not as comforting as he thought it would be. He pushed the other man until they were in the kitchen, furthest from Natalie's bedroom and where they would least likely be overheard from. Nodding to the ornately hilted sword, he stuttered, "What...why..." "Yes, why were you not at your loft? I had told you not to leave, and yet you were both gone when I arrived back there this morning." "Natalie wanted to do Tracy's autopsy, and I figured I should go to my hearing with the review board. They probably would have sent someone for me if I hadn't shown up." LaCroix took in a slow, deep breath, but merely replied, "Very well. I suppose that was necessary." "Yes, it was." "But why did you come here?" "It's Natalie's apartment." "I didn't ask where we were, but why, Nicholas." "Because I didn't want to smell her blood. And her apartment is closer to the precinct." "Which one did you tell her?" LaCroix asked, finishing with something akin to a smirk. Nick didn't answer, turning and walking over to the sink, where he rinsed off the small amount of blood that clung to the back of his hand. The wound had already healed. "Rinse your face as well." He shot a short glare back at the order, but did so knowing either blood-tinged tears or sweat stained his face. He then used one of the kitchen towels to dry his hands and face, which he then folded up and put off to the side. Wanting to focus on something other than his maker, he pulled out a clean towel and hung it on the oven door's handle, a replacement for the one he had dirtied. "If you were weeping over worry about your...lover...you can rest those thoughts. You can't kill her, or not easily. She's immortal." "You know why I was--you always know." "Ah, yes, then your partner. You shouldn't cry too long over her..." He glared at and then stepped toward the other man. "She was my co-worker." "Yes, and a police detective. She would have been fully aware this could happen, that someday she could die while performing her duties. She died defending her comrades, yes? A very honorable death, particularly in these times." "She was twenty-five years old, LaCroix!" "And she was not a child. While I am not aware of the precise circumstances of her death...it was her choice to be where she was when shot, was it not? You did not force her or tell her--" "I didn't even know she was there." "Then you could not have changed anything. Remember that, Nicholas." He didn't want to talk about Tracy, not with LaCroix, and again he nodded toward the sword. "Why do you have that?" he asked and watched the other man grin...then abruptly become rather grim. "Why?" LaCroix held the bloodied sword up, then flipped it, handing it out to his son. "For you. You might as well keep it for the time being." "Why?" "If you need it before I explain...I'm sure you'll figure it out." Nick didn't much like the sound of that, but took the offered sword. "When will you explain?" "When you and Natalie return to your home. I'll be waiting...as I did all day." Nick then stepped back as LaCroix moved by him, going to the refrigerator and opening it. "What do you expect to find in there?" "Never know what these mortals keep in their refrigerators." He picked something up and pulled it out--a test tube with blood in it. "Put it back." "Why? She can always get more, I'm sure..." Nick didn't answer, first laying the sword on the counter, then he plucked the test tube with his blood in it out of the other vampire's hand and put it back next to a couple others. Then he shut the door and moved between LaCroix and the appliance. "She doesn't keep blood on hand, and if she did, it wouldn't be anything you'd want to drink." "Yes, well, if the options are that bovine swill of yours here or there...might as well be here." "Are you staying to argue with me until you wake Natalie, or--" "No, no, I'm not staying. And I have no need to wait. I believe she already woke, probably from your absence." He turned and nodded toward the nearer entrance to the kitchen, where Natalie slowly stepped into view, arms crossed in front of her and her eyes on him. "I will be waiting for you, Nicholas. And remember not to forget that," he said with a nod toward the sword. "If you have plans that will delay returning to your loft, ensure to take it and keep it with you." Nick kept his eyes right on LaCroix as the other left, heading out past Natalie and to the apartment's exit. He didn't follow, but watched Natalie as she watched his sire leave until he heard the door open and close. "Nick?" "I'm sorry, Nat, I woke up with that," he said with a nod to the sword on the counter, "to my neck, and--" "And there's blood on it, Nick." "Yes--mine. I tried to push it away before I knew what it was." "Why does he have a sword? Or I should ask why did he bring one here?" "I don't know." "He said something about making sure to take it with you if you leave, I assume if we leave here, right?" Nick absently nodded. "He didn't explain, said he would once we got to my place. And that if I needed it before then, that I'd figure it out. Whatever that means." "Should I ask what kind of mood he's in?" "Hungry," he immediately said. "He looked in your refrigerator hoping to find blood, I think. Human blood. Even cow's blood." "Ah. I don't suppose you have any hidden somewhere at your loft?" "No. I...drank it all," he said with a wince. It had been gone for two months now. Lately, some nights he had to force himself to even drink the cow's blood. Then he remembered what LaCroix had said about Natalie. "He did tell me that you're immortal, that I can't kill you." Remembering the addition, he added, "Or that I couldn't kill you easily." "So I can be killed, then? He didn't say how, did he?" Nick shook his head, but his eyes went to the sword, wondering what--if anything--it had to do with what Natalie was or how she could be killed. "Is that his?" "If it is, I haven't seen it before. LaCroix travels light, so probably not." Natalie walked over to the counter, looking at but not touching the weapon. "And it's not yours." "No." "And he said if you needed it? For what?" she asked, turning to look back at him. "To use, I suppose, although what I would need to use a sword for in this century I have no idea." "To fence with?" "You use specialized swords for that nowadays. A sword like this is...it's something you put in a museum or display case...or on a wall." "So it's...is it for looks, or is it the real thing?" "I think it's the latter," he said as he approached and looked at the sword more closely. His first impression was a French cavalry sword from Napoleon's era, but the side-swept hilt was far more ornate, more like a rapier. Pulling it off the counter he held it, then shifted it side to side. It *felt* like a French cavalry sword. "You think?" "It's real, although a bit unusual. Probably early 19th century French, although the craftsman might have been...German, maybe," he guessed. "What's a bit unusual? All I see is a...rather shiny, slightly curved sword with a silver--" "The hilt, the guard is a bit more ornate and large for being a cavalry sword, a saber." He set it down. He really didn't like the idea of having to possibly use this sword, fight with it. He hoped LaCroix had been joking about needing it, or that his and Natalie's guesses were wrong. "What's wrong?" He snapped his eyes to Natalie. He almost passed it off as nothing, but instead admitted, "If I have to actually use it...I'm not sure I want to." "Because of its value or--" "Both that and it's... I'm not fond of single-edged swords," he said, eyeing the blade of the sword itself. "Well...what is the plan? Your place to hear the rest of whatever LaCroix has to say about what I am? Or something else?" "Should probably get the first over with." "Then either make me a sandwich or something to eat, feed Sydney, do both, or go get dressed." "I'll make you something to eat. And feed Sydney." "And you should probably clean the blood off that sword. Sydney will lick it up if you don't. While that I'm aware it won't make him into a vampire kitty, he'll--" "Your things might gain unwanted damage from the side effects. I'll take care of it." He managed a smile, then watched her hesitantly head back to the bedroom. His smile vanished once she left, and he turned toward the sword. Cleaning it was, he had to admit, necessary. Although what he and Natalie considered cleaning were probably different. He wiped the blade down several times with some plain, dry paper towels. Not perfect, but better than doing nothing. Next, he went with Natalie's suggestion of making a sandwich. It was one meal he didn't think he could mess up and she probably knew it. Finishing the resulting rather tidy sandwich--if he didn't count the bits of shredded cheese falling out onto the plate that he had used after not finding any sliced cheese--he took care of Sydney's meal. At some point while he had made the sandwich, the cat had come to spy on him, and it thankfully didn't need much prodding on Nick's part to get him to eat. In fact, the animal was so focused on gobbling down his food that he managed to stroke his fur several times. "I see you two are getting along okay today." He snatched his hand back and stood, eyes on Natalie. She had dressed rather simply in jeans and a plain shirt. He didn't see her dressed so casually very often, and he stared. "This is okay, right? I don't need to, I don't know, dress up? I mean given we're actually going to have a meeting of a sort with LaCroix..." "Yeah. I don't think it matters what you wear." Then he nodded toward the counter. "I made your sandwich. I couldn't find everything, so I made a substitution." "I'm sure it will be fine." He then just stood there, eyes on Natalie as she approached and went to the counter where the sandwich sat. She didn't pick it up off the plate, however, and instead turned to look at him. "The idea of getting you to make me something to eat was so that you could dress while I ate. So go on. The sooner we get to your place, the sooner LaCroix tells us and he leaves, right?" That thought spurred Nick into action, and after silently nodding, he headed back to the bedroom. Yes, as soon as LaCroix had told them whatever, the sooner he would leave and he and Natalie could discuss her...whatever her type of immortality was and what that meant for them. The sooner they talked, the sooner they could start making decisions. Nick rushed to redress, and in fact he didn't bother changing his shirt. He just left the t-shirt on and pulled on his pants, then put his socks and shoes back on. Grabbing his actual shirt and jacket, he headed back to where Natalie sat, eating her sandwich faster than her cat had gobbled down its food. "Nat?" "There's a bag in my room...I put a few things in it in case I don't come back here before morning." Nick spun and went back to the bedroom, spotting the bag immediately. It was the same one she brought to his place sometimes if she stayed to watch a movie or something, although when he picked it up he noted it felt two to three times as heavy. She had more than just one change of clothes in the bag. It must have taken him longer to make that sandwich than he thought. He took the bag back with him and set it near the door. Then he went back to the kitchen to deal with the sword. It wouldn't fit in the bag, so he did the next best thing and wrapped it in his jacket. "Nick? What are you--" "Figured we should get it out of sight. Your neighbors won't like seeing me carrying it down the hall." "I'm sure you could think up some explanation. You're good at that." "I would rather not have to think up explanations in the first place," he said, looking away from Natalie, then he put the jacket-wrapped sword and his shirt with her bag. He waited near the hall while she finished eating, washed her plate...and then she started to pull some food from the refrigerator and cabinets. "Nat?" "I'm bringing some stuff to your place. I don't think you have anything I can eat in that fridge of yours." He felt a bit stupid for asking. While immortal, Natalie wasn't barred from eating mortal food, and in fact she probably had to eat just as much as when she had been mortal. He supposed it wasn't really 'mortal' food anymore, just...'normal' food. "Ready?" she asked once she had a bag together and picked it up. He nodded absently, then went to retrieve the bag and other items by the door. After being reminded to make sure Sydney didn't sneak out, they left, taking their things silently down to Natalie's car and putting them in the back seat. Then, once again, Natalie drove them. He felt somewhat thankful for that, as while he didn't feel as numb as he had last night, now he felt a bit nervous. While he wanted to know what was going on with Natalie--as she surely did as well--they would then certainly have to actually make new decisions. He had thought this a good thing, but however much he wanted change, needed change, this was one change he and Natalie would have no control over. Future Tense - (09/36) Natalie had to prod Nick out of the car once they arrived at the loft, and once again it was Natalie assuring him things would be fine as they took the bags to the elevator. He watched her pull her notes out of his otherwise empty mailbox, and he silently opened her bag so she could slip it in with her clothes. LaCroix wouldn't like seeing the notebook and papers, not if he knew what they were. They both knew that. "So, what do you think the sword is for?" she asked him as they stepped into the freight elevator. "I'm sure we'll find out," he answered. To be honest, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He couldn't think of too many reasons one would need a sword in this day and age. There were other, far more effective weapons. "And he's not going to kill me again, right?" Nick tensed. He wouldn't put the idea past LaCroix, and hoped the other vampire wasn't listening. "I hope not." He also silently hoped his sire had cleaned up after that morning. As the elevator ground to a halt, he took in a breath, then held it as he pushed the door open. Slowly breathing out, he relaxed a little, and breathed in again more cautiously. He could barely smell any of Natalie's blood. Glancing to the area she had fallen near the fireplace, Nick didn't see the staff, either. LaCroix had moved it. The floor seemed cleaner than it probably should have been, too. The other man seemed absent, until Nick closed his eyes in an attempt to pinpoint the other... Slowly turning, he found his sire leaning up against the elevator door, smiling with his arms folded in front of him, an identical sword to the one he had brought to Natalie's resting on top of them. Two swords. This was...great. "Nat? Put your things away," he said, not letting his eyes drift away from LaCroix. Setting her bag down, he started slowly back toward his maker, which seemed to get the other man to move. "Explain, LaCroix. Explain what she is." "What she is can wait a few more minutes." "Where did you get the swords, then? I know they're not yours." "That can also wait, Nicholas," LaCroix said, walking forward, shifting the sword to his right hand. He eyed his sire, half-expecting him to attack him, but he didn't. The other man continued walking until he reached the recliner, where he sat. Nick relaxed a little when LaCroix released the sword's handle and just let the blade rest on one crossed thigh and one of the arm rests. The other vampire still smiled at him, however, and he didn't fully let his guard down. Crossing to the kitchen, Nick helped Natalie put away some of the food she had brought that didn't go into the refrigerator. Once finished, he pulled her possessively to his side and guided her over to the sofa. He felt a little bit of resistance, but pulled her along, anyway. Sitting, he took the seat closer to LaCroix. He didn't trust the other man, not quite. "Now explain." "Where would you like me to start?" "What is she?" "An Immortal." "You already said she was immortal." "Not immortal, *an* Immortal," LaCroix said, a tinge of frustration coming out in his tone. "It's what they call themselves, just as we call ourselves vampires." "But Natalie isn't completely immortal, just as we are not. You said--" "That you can't kill her, or not easily." "Yes. How can she be killed?" "Only one way--beheading." He felt Natalie try to shirk back behind him. "Nat?" "And the sword is, what, for you to kill me with?" she asked. LaCroix chuckled. "Au contraire. The sword shall be your savior." "Where did you get them?" "While I was conferring with another of us I suspected would know about her kind." "Who?" "Merlin," LaCroix said simply. "I knew you would need them. Hopefully he doesn't use them for his own defense. If so, well..." "LaCroix--" "He has apparently had some not so pleasant run-ins with her kind. By the sounds of it, they've killed him or threatened him on multiple occasions." "Why?" "Because he either wouldn't give them or outright refused to find information on others. Apparently, it's the source of his recent lack of creativity when it comes to his name." "And what did he tell you?" "Not much. He did confirm some of what I already knew, however." "Which is?" "That these Immortals hunt and kill one another." Nick held Natalie's hand tighter at this. "She will be seen as an easy target, Nicholas." "And what else do you know? You said you already knew at least something about what Natalie is. How--" "A very long time ago I...I suppose you could say I ran into one like her by accident." LaCroix chuckled again. "It was well before I knew you...or Janette. I was returning to Paris after sunrise and took refuge in a church. When I discovered the priest that let me in was alone... I couldn't help it." "You killed him." "Yes, and then he woke mere minutes later." "Just as Natalie did last night." "Precisely the same. He seemed to know more about me than I did about him, which was... Suffice it to say, it made for a rather interesting conversation." "He told you about what he was," Nick guessed, but LaCroix' gaze drifted at that. "Yes?" "To be honest, we mostly talked about...other topics. We were both from the same time; I was about fifteen, twenty years older than him. While if we had ever met as mortals we would have been enemies, we had far more in common than I expected." "So I won't age?" Natalie asked. "No, you will not age. The priest I met never did, not in all the times I've seen him. I suppose that's the real meaning of immortality, isn't it? To not age whatever the other effects are." "When did you last see him?" Nick asked. "Nearly fifty years ago." "And other effects...what are Natalie's?" "That I am aware she has none, or none that are easily noticeable. She would have likely...changed, if you can call it that, irregardless if you killed her. Her only real trade-off for living forever may be that others of her kind will want to kill her. Or at least some of them will want to. The old priest told me his kind can sense other Immortals, that they can identify one another." "How?" Nick asked, trying to keep any worry out of his tone. "He did not explain it." "How did it sound?" "Why?" Nick glanced to Natalie; she knew where he was going with this, what he was wondering. "Because this morning Natalie..." "It was a headache, a migraine." "Caused by?" LaCroix asked, narrowing his eyes. "I don't know. It vanished as quickly as it came." "We were driving between Natalie's work and mine," Nick explained. "Has it happened again?" He looked to Natalie again and she shook her head. She looked frightened and he didn't blame her. "LaCroix?" "It may be nothing..." "But you think she could have been sensing another like her?" Nick asked, assumed. "How common are Immortals? What causes--" "I don't know. Merlin wouldn't elaborate, but it was clear to me he has met several, perhaps dozens or more. He wouldn't answer if he knew of any in Toronto at present...which tells me there must be at least one that he is aware of." "And the priest?" "He...I only know that he knew of others like him, and that he did not participate in these fights--that he hasn't since before I first met him." "How?" "How..." "How does he avoid participating?" "I believe it may have something to do with his choice of residence." "A church." "Yes. That is, however, merely a guess. He was careful what he told me about his kind...as was I when I spoke of mine. Unfortunately, I do not have many answers." "Can you contact--" "I highly doubt he has a phone or internet access, Nicholas. If you want to speak with him, you'll have to go there." "And you know where he lives?" Nick asked. "Yes. The same place he has since, oh, the mid-thirteenth century. Technically since I met him, but the building was razed and rebuilt..." "And he won't hurt Natalie if we go there, assuming you tell us where, precisely?" "He would not harm any of us. He didn't even harm me after I killed him." Nick turned back to Natalie again. "Nat?" He could see her panicking behind her otherwise frozen gaze. "Do you want to, I assume, go to Paris to meet this Immortal?" She focused on LaCroix. "And you think he'll be able to explain this better?" "Yes." "Then yes, I want to go," she said, trying to stand. Nick held her in place. There were still other issues, questions. "How dangerous would it be for us to go now?" "Given she has probably never handled a sword and you were dismal at dueling...probably too dangerous to chance it. Unless you wish her to end up beheaded and a patient for the new medical examiner, I suggest she start learning how to use a sword before we go anywhere." Nick felt Natalie grip tightly to his arm at this. No, she didn't want that. Nor did he want to end up scattered on the winds. "And how am I supposed to teach her if I'm so...dismal?" LaCroix smiled. "I have nothing better to do for the time being." "You're going to teach--" "Even your own mediocre skills will be adequate to train her to start with. Your problem is focus and control of your emotions, not lack of ability or technique. Natalie must learn both." "And if--when--someone comes after her?" "As long as you ensure they walk away or die...I don't think that will be an issue." LaCroix shifted, picking up the sword again as he uncrossed his legs and stood. "I suppose I will leave you alone to discuss this...for now. I will return at midnight. Decide whether you want my help or not." He flipped the sword like he had in Natalie's kitchen and held the hilt out for his son to take. Nick didn't even really look at the sword, nor did he take it. After a moment LaCroix set it rather noisily on the coffee table and walked away. Then, with a quiet swoosh, he left. "Nick..." "It'll be okay. We'll go to Paris and this priest, this...this friend of LaCroix', will explain." "I didn't think he had any friends. I mean unless you count yourself, Janette, or maybe me." "I didn't, either." "Do you...do you think he's right in that others like me will try to kill me?" "I have no idea, but I'm not sure he'd lie about this. I don't think we'll know until it happens." "Well, I think he might be right." He turned sharply to look at Natalie. "I don't think you've gotten any for your cases, but I *have* ended up with several beheaded corpses on my table. And I have also had to process swords as evidence." Nick felt a bit ill. Natalie had probably autopsied some of her kind. Immortals' bodies must not decompose any differently than normal humans. She would have noted something before now if that was the case. "How many?" "Not counting bodies pulled out of the Don or the lake, and only going with the ones with a sword found nearby...probably half a dozen? At least. I wonder if they've revoked my login yet," she said, standing and walking over to the bag Nick had carried in, where she pulled out her laptop. "Natalie? Should you--" "I don't know, but I'm going to at least try," she said, sitting back down next to Nick and powering the computer up. "I think they were all unsolved. Which, well, I suppose that's probably either a good thing or expected. Or both." Half an hour later, Natalie had pulled out, indeed, about half a dozen cases in the eight years she had been working as the medical examiner. Exactly six had swords linked to them, but there were actually ten total unsolved beheadings done with a sword or similarly sharp object. Almost a dozen...slightly more than one per year. When Nick suggested adding in cases where the body had been found in the water, that number more than doubled. He hadn't been too concerned until Natalie told him she wasn't counting more questionable cases. Worse, a not insignificant portion of the victims had been women. Natalie had shut her computer off after realizing that, and he held her tightly next to him as she leaned back into the sofa cushions. "Nick...am I doomed?" "No, you're not doomed." "But if you think about it...I'm about average or even a little smaller than average for a woman, and the average male is--" "And...for one you're probably faster. For another, you have me." "Are you as bad with a sword as LaCroix hinted?" "No, I don't think so. But I wasn't that good; when he said mediocre...I won't dispute that. He wasn't bragging when he said he was better with a sword than me. But I'm not mortal, Nat, and he's no expert, himself." "And you really are faster. And stronger." Nick nodded. What he was would be an advantage. Even if he couldn't win using a sword, he could by other methods. "Do you think he'll actually help us, help me?" He didn't reply right away, but when he did he did so with certainty. "Yes. Although I can't guarantee he won't kill you as he teaches you. He probably will, but only...non-fatally." "Non-fatal death? That's a comforting thought." "He won't kill you, not permanently. He knows he'll lose me for good if he does," he said darkly, his eyes going toward the sword on the coffee table, its tip barely a foot from his knees. "Do you want to see how it goes before he gets back?" "See how it goes?" "Yeah." "I do, but first...do you have anything interesting in storage?" His forehead scrunched up a bit at the question. "Anything interesting..." "Like another sword, Nick," she said and shoved his side. "To be honest, I'm not sure." "You're not sure?" "I never unpacked a few boxes, but I have a strong suspicion the answer is no." "And how long will it take to go through those boxes?" "Not long, but--" He cut off as Natalie grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the elevator. To get to the adjoining warehouse, one had to enter from the lower level. He didn't really want to look for something he very likely didn't have, but at least he could say he had completely unpacked. Sort of. They'd just have to repack those boxes right away. However, as midnight was hours away, they didn't really have anything better to do. Future Tense - (10/36) "Again!" LaCroix yelled at Natalie after she had fallen. Again. She stayed down on the hard cement, her hand aching. She had fallen on it more than a dozen times now, all since LaCroix arrived back. Nick's short lesson had been much less painful. So much for being immortal and healing quickly. Bruises were little more pleasant now than a couple of nights ago, although she assumed they'd heal fairly quickly once they stopped. "Get up! Nicholas, help her up." When Nick gave her his hand--which he had already been about to do--she took it. She could see Nick was as tired of their practice dueling at LaCroix' command as she was. It was nearly two in the morning, but felt like it should be dawn. "I think it's time for a break," she said, but didn't look at LaCroix. "You're not even trying," he told her. Then he turned to his son. "And neither are you. Beyond cuts and bruises--which will heal--you will not harm one another. Now...again!" "No, LaCroix. There's little point in making her so tired she can barely stand." "She must--" "She needs a break!" Nick said far more firmly. "She can't try when--" "She can't try because she's afraid to hurt you; the same reason you aren't trying, Nicholas." "It doesn't change that--" "Yes, yes," LaCroix said, annoyed, and he walked the few steps forward. "Give it to me, then," he said and held his hand out toward the saber in Natalie's hand. She stiffened, gripping it tighter, but after a moment Nick nodded to her. She didn't want to give it to LaCroix. At worst he'd attack her with it. At best he'd end up giving her another demonstration using Nick. Nick had a rather large bloody slice through his t-shirt from an earlier demonstration. "Now, Doctor." "It's okay. Just give it to him." She still didn't want to hand the sword over, but feared how very angry LaCroix would become if she didn't. Holding it out, in a split second he had pried it from her loose hold. "Let's see if you can do better this time," LaCroix said as he took a couple of steps away, then turned and smiled. "How about we try and actually show her something rather than simply try to kill one another?" Nick said, then he had to immediately block LaCroix' blade. Natalie flinched; the sound bothered her. She imagined the blades hitting not one another, but bone. And earlier LaCroix had started off exactly the same way with Nick as he did now. Slowly, but with force. Just like the first time, within about a minute LaCroix had managed to slash into Nick's flesh and more blood appeared on his light-grey t-shirt. She had splotches of dried blood and slices in her own white shirt. While she had always known why vampires preferred black, maybe it was about to become her favorite color, too. But the cuts in her shirt were also much smaller than Nick's. LaCroix must not have used any of his extra strength the short time he had tested her, more or less played with her until she was too frustrated to even try stopping his blade from nicking her. With Nick, however, LaCroix either had to or did so to force him to actually fight--which seemed to work if that was the case--and she had a hard time not going over to them every time he ended up cut somewhere or seemed to be losing. Either LaCroix was much better at this than Nick...or he was good at pretending this was easy. Both were possible. She hated this, hated how LaCroix didn't seem to care how much he hurt Nick in his attempt to train her. She'd rather be the one being sliced open--and knew she would probably be next. They seemed to be taking turns. Then, as LaCroix did something she didn't quite see, Nick ended up stumbling away. Then LaCroix sliced his weapon into the back of Nick's shoulder. While Nick didn't collapse--in fact he managed to turn back toward LaCroix--he looked horrible. She somehow knew LaCroix wouldn't be gentle with her, either. He did the same thing he had done with her with Nick--teasing him, playing with him. Finally, LaCroix put an end to the toying. He rather easily disarmed Nick, then killed him, slicing his sword up under the younger man's ribs. Natalie had had enough and couldn't stand by any longer, not as Nick sank to his knees looking rather shocked. Everything seemed to be moving so very slowly, and LaCroix wasn't smiling as she thought he would be as he pulled the blade out of Nick. Is this what it had been like for him when LaCroix had stabbed her with that staff last night? "He will be fine." She didn't look at LaCroix, just pushed by him and knelt next to where Nick now lay lifeless on his back. "That was not necessary," she said, realizing Nick had, indeed, been temporarily killed. "At all." "It's not something he's experienced for some time." "What does that matter?" "It is a reminder to Nicholas that we are not invincible." "You could have just--" "Just what? Told him? And do you think he would listen? He learns better by experience, by living example." Natalie pursed her lips. No, Nick probably wouldn't listen. It didn't lessen her anger at LaCroix any, nor the fact that Nick hadn't yet woken. She hated seeing him unconscious like this; only very severe injuries to certain parts of a vampire's body seemed capable of rendering them unconscious. She touched his face, brushed his hair back as she waited. Then, after probably less than a minute of silence, he started awake, sitting up. She immediately smiled, but then she caught sight of his hungry, gold eyes and his fangs. "Nick, you feel--" She cut off when he grabbed her, one hand under her chin. He had done it before, and she just closed her eyes, reminding herself that even if Nick did feed from her, she'd be fine. As abruptly as he had snatched hold of her, Nick let go and half pushed her away, even as he used her to get up. She tried to grab his hand before he walked away, but she missed. Standing, she started after Nick--whose aim was the refrigerator--only for LaCroix to stop her, grabbing her arm. She would have hit him if not that she knew he was much stronger than her and in another moment he had her free arm as well. "What--" "We will stop for now. Perhaps you can practice more with Nicholas later." When he released her, she just stood where she was for a moment, watching LaCroix first retrieve the sword Nick had been using, then place both swords on the kitchen table. When he next left, she turned her attention to Nick, who stood in front of the open refrigerator and drank right from a bottle. She slowly approached, taking care not to touch him. Just her presence seemed to get him to stop drinking the blood, and she tried to smile at him. "You okay?" "I could kill him." "Yes, well, just think what the two of us could do to him with those swords," she said teasingly. "You're not suggesting--" "It *is* an option. But no, I'm not suggesting we plot to kill him. It's tempting right now, though." She reached forward and tugged at the edge of the hole in his shirt. "He ever do that to your clothes before?" "No, but the last time we dueled it was more for...fun, not--" "Survival." "Yes. Even LaCroix' threats...even when he's tried to kill me, I've always known on some level he just wants some reaction from me." "He shouldn't have--" "It's all right, Nat." He glanced down at his shirt, then put the bottle back in the refrigerator. "I'll be back in a few. I...I need a shower," he muttered. She watched his blank gaze shift away from her, then pursed her lips again as he flew out of sight, upstairs and into his room. She didn't blame him, but using what he was around her wasn't his normal behavior, and she couldn't help but worry a bit. After Nick had turned on the water, she decided she might as well do what she could to clean up herself. All she really needed was a new shirt. She put on a nicer one, figuring as long as it was Nick who tried to teach her it wouldn't be ruined. She'd have to remember to borrow one of Nick's shirts for whenever LaCroix next tried to teach her anything or put on the one from tonight. Other than the shirt, she didn't have much blood on her skin like Nick did--but then he had been injured far more severely. She then went over to the kitchen table, where LaCroix had set the swords. She had a feeling Nick wouldn't be happy about that--blood had dripped and smeared onto the wood--between possible damage and then just the general scent of blood. And not just Nick's, but surely a little of hers as well. Nick hadn't managed to get LaCroix once that she had noticed. Relocating the swords to the kitchen counter, she cleaned off the table as best she could. Seeing Nick come back down, this time dressed even more casually in just, by the looks of it, his robe and sweat pants, she gave him another smile and asked, "Better?" "Much. He didn't say when he was coming back, did he?" "Ah, no. Or if he was coming back." "He planned to leave last night and he probably stayed here yesterday. It's quite possible he'll be back again by dawn, depending on whether he completely moved out of the Raven or not." Natalie didn't much like the sound of that. "Did he?" "He...may have. Before I came back here last night, he was closing up a trunk." "And he didn't reopen the Raven after..." "No, he didn't reopen the club. The damage Divia did was fixed, but...he's probably moved out. The club is probably up for sale or might even be sold, I don't know." "So you're stuck with a house guest? Or I guess we are, assuming I can stay?" "Very probably. And I thought that was the plan? You staying here." "Yes, Nick, it was the plan," she repeated back and walked over to where he had stopped, half way from the stairs to the kitchen. "Although there are other plans we need to talk about..." "Tracy's funeral." Natalie nodded. Nick had ended up with a message on his answering machine from that afternoon. Tracy's funeral was two days from now at ten in the morning. Nick had zoned out and walked off after he had first replayed the message, and she hadn't bothered asking him then if he was going to attempt to go. "So..." "I'd like to go, but it's just too dangerous and would create too many questions." Natalie wondered a little what Nick thought was dangerous--him out during the day, or her out more or less in public--but suggested, "We can go to her grave once the sun sets." Nick slowly nodded. "I'd like that." "No reservations?" "About?" "Me? I mean if we run into--" "No. I'm not afraid of--and we can leave if it comes to it, or maybe I can make them leave?" "Assuming what I am isn't why I'm a resistor." "Tracy was a resistor." Natalie heard Nick's mood drop in his tone. "Yeah, but maybe all those like me are resistors...or maybe it's not connected." "Maybe." "Well, regardless, we'll go?" Nick nodded again, then his gaze drifted off behind Natalie. She turned and saw where he was looking: The counter where she had put the swords. "I hope that was okay. I figured there was better than the table." "It's fine...although I think next time we should practice in the warehouse, and I need to show you how to take care of them." "You going to try and, I don't know, make it so I do better whenever LaCroix decides I should try again?" "Are you sure you want me to try? I mean you saw what he did." "Barely. You are a much better teacher when it comes to your...teaching methods. You actually explain rather than expect me to figure it out sometime either before or after I'm half-killed. While the latter is probably good practice..." "It doesn't really help unless you learn the basics first." "Yes, and not being cut open in the process is...nice," she admitted. Then she teased, "Even if he is right, I think, that we're not trying as hard as we should be." "Probably not. I don't want to--" "You don't want to hurt me." "I almost--" "Nick, you can't kill me by feeding from me, so...don't apologize for not doing something that wouldn't have done any permanent damage. You have my permission to take my blood whenever you want...especially if you need it." He shook his head slightly as he turned and started walking aimlessly away from Natalie. "Nick, don't ignore--" "I'm not ignoring you. I'm not trying to shut you out. I just need time, Natalie." "Time," she repeated, frustration creeping in. Whether or not he thought he wasn't shutting her out, it sure felt like it. "Well, we apparently both have plenty of that now. So are you just going to push this--" "It's been barely a day! Most of that time we've either been sleeping or...or trying to piece things together, either what happened or what to do, even how I feel about all of this," he said, spinning back to face Natalie. While she suspected he was trying to make her feel better, it wasn't working. "And tonight I find out I very well might lose you again. I don't want to take your blood unless I absolutely have to. I don't want to weaken you." "And what qualifies as 'absolutely have to'?" "I don't know." "What if I asked you to again? If I ask, will you--" "Please, Natalie, let's just--let's take this one thing at a time. Right now we need to teach you--" "How to defend myself," she finished with a sigh. "Yes. And yes, we can do that now if you want. Or perhaps after you eat something. You haven't had anything since that sandwich." Natalie nearly protested, but nodded. "I suppose that's the nice way of saying I get irritable when hungry." "I think everyone gets irritable when hungry, Nat. Myself included, and you haven't exactly just been sitting around." "Yeah, but I haven't been...killed yet," she pointed out. "And for a while you're going to have to do this every day, every night. And...and I know you feel pain probably just about as much as you did as a mortal. LaCroix will do what he did to me to you. Maybe not on the same level, but--" "But I need to know what it's like to be injured." Then she clarified, "Really injured, not just the equivalent of a paper-cut. More specifically, I guess I need to know if I fall apart or can continue. You, too, if you're going to try protecting me. That wasn't part of my...well, my plan last night when--" "It's okay, Natalie." "You know...I'm glad I'm not doing this on my own. Just imagine if...if you left and something happened to me in a year or two. I'd be...if those like me really do kill each other, I'd be dead. Guaranteed." She watched him slowly nod. He didn't really look at her; in fact, he almost looked worse. "And while we might not know everything...we have somewhere to start." "Thanks to LaCroix." Nick almost laughed at that. "For once he actually helped." "He has been--" "Ever since I was shot." "Yeah. Or trying to, anyway. Doing a better job than usual at trying to help you. And now of all people he's helping *me*. Even if it is for you. He'd, what, probably kill me himself if--" "He would probably do worse than kill you," Nick muttered, finally turning and walking away. "I'm both surprised and not that more vampires don't know about Immortals. An endless supply of blood. An immortal companion that we can't--" She flinched at where Nick's words took her. No, she didn't suppose he would necessarily kill her. The very few times they had spoken alone, she had the strange feeling he liked talking to her. He'd probably keep her locked up in some room if not for Nick. And, indeed, death--temporary or otherwise--wouldn't be the worst thing he could do to her. "So...lunch and then a lesson?" she asked, not particularly wanting to talk more in-depth about LaCroix' possible motives for helping them. "Yeah. Is there...is there anything else you want from your apartment before dawn?" "Ah, not tonight. As long as we go by early in the evening to feed Sydney. Which is another thing we need to decide on." "What do you mean?" "Ah, he needs to live somewhere?" she reminded him. Why did Nick always have to go blank on the simplest things? "I can't just forget him in my apartment--which is yet another thing that needs dealt with sometime before we leave, I suppose--but I can't just let him starve to--" "He can come with us." "We're, what, going to go to France then move...probably to some other country, Nick. He'll probably have to go through some sort of quarantine--" "We'll find somewhere for him to stay, then wherever we end up, we will get him there. Safely. It'll be a lot easier to get him through customs than those," he said with a nod toward the swords. "And what about LaCroix? I'm not sure he's one for pets." "He'll just have to deal with Sydney." "Just have to... Nick, he could, I don't know, kill him, or bring him across, or...whatever." "I don't think he's going to hurt something tied to you. Not now." "Well, Sydney is staying at my apartment as long as we're here, all right? I don't want to have to worry until I have to, and...and I might still try and rehome him." "I'll talk to LaCroix. I'm sure he's aware that cats have finite lives." "And maybe remind him that Sydney isn't exactly young...he's over a decade old. If it'll help. If it won't--" "I have no idea if it will or not. I'll be careful mentioning it, but I'm sure he knows you have a cat." "He probably knows more about me than I can imagine," she mumbled back. "Probably." The reply didn't help put her mind at ease one bit. Although, on the other hand, so far so good, she supposed. "Well, lunch then. For both of us, too, Nick; not just me," she said and started toward the kitchen. Only when he started to follow did she relax. Future Tense - (11/36) "Are you sure you still want to do this?" Natalie said as they walked among the gravestones. "Yes," Nick said, not slowing. Tracy's funeral had been that morning, and over the previous two days his decision had only solidified further. He wouldn't go during the day, but would go at sunset as Natalie had suggested. Or close to sunset. He had decided to bring some flowers, a simple bunch of daisies and wildflowers. That had delayed them slightly, but even now the sun had barely set. Only once they got closer did he stiffen and eventually pull them to a stop. Tracy's father was there, waiting, and he had spotted them. "Nat..." "I'll stay here." Nick wasn't sure he wanted her to stay there, alone--or that he wanted to go on alone himself--but he managed a nod and pulled his hand away from her back. This was something he had to do. He handed the bunch of flowers to Natalie, who gave him a reassuring smile, then he started forward. He both feared and wanted Tracy's father to blame him. Reaching the other man, Nick whispered in address, "Commissioner," momentarily bowing his head at the same time. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here earlier, but--" "Walk with me, Detective." "I'm not--" "I know you've resigned, but you're still a detective on paper for the next three, almost four weeks--or so I've been told." Nick stayed silent this time and did as told, staying as far away from and behind the other man as he felt he could dare. "I wish I could blame you for what happened--" "You can blame me, if you want." "However much I might want to, I know this isn't your fault. You nearly gave your life for her once, and I never even thanked you for that. I'm the one that got her assigned to you in the first place." "It wasn't supposed to be permanent." "But when it did become permanent, I could have easily prevented that." "You had her reassigned, accepted a promotion for--" "I thought it was what she would want after what had happened. In truth, it was what I wanted. She wouldn't have as large a target on her if she were tied to a cubicle." "And it would have been a good career move," he pointed out. "It would have--if she had wanted it. She was more like you, truth be told. She had initiative to poke her eyes were they didn't necessarily belong, then follow up to get to the bottom of it. She had always been like that, even as a child." Nick didn't feel very comfortable and stopped walking, which caused the other man to do the same. "I'd try offering you a desk job--either temporarily or more permanently--but you wouldn't take it, would you? Not even if it were a promotion or--" "No. I've been considering leaving for a while," Nick said, looking the other right in the eyes. He didn't want to risk using what he was, not unless he had no choice. "Dr. Lambert as well?" Nick tensed a little as Commissioner Vetter nodded back down the path toward where Natalie undoubtedly stood. "Has she also been planning this for a while?" "Not...planning. Not really," he answered. "But it was a possibility?" Nick didn't answer. "I've heard the rumors about you two as much as anyone else, Knight." "A possibility, but not planned," he said, ignoring the new comment. "Well, if either of you need any sort of job recommendation wherever you're going--" "Thank you, but we're not sure where we plan on going, let alone what we plan on doing." "Beyond leaving Toronto, by the sounds of it?" Nick nodded. "Yes, we'll be leaving." "I'll let you pay your respects, even though I suspect you may have already done that. I know Dr. Lambert did the...the autopsy, and that you were in the building. Tracy always hated how I meddled in her life, hovered. I just suspected you might be here tonight and wanted you to know I don't blame you for what happened. And think about that offer, Knight." Nick zoned off a little as the other walked away, then a few moments later he felt Natalie take his arm and turn him around. "So...at least from a distance that seemed all right?" "He doesn't blame me," was all he could manage, and he let Natalie guide him back near where they had started. "What would he think if he knew everything? That Tracy knew about vampires, that I'm a vampire, but that she didn't know what I was? That if she had--" "If she had known, it might not have changed anything, and...and there isn't much point in speculating on the first, really." "I guess," he whispered as they came to a stop near the fresh grave, the headstone freshly cut. "Do you think this is what she would have wanted? I mean to be buried rather than cremated, or--" "That I am aware she had a will, but then most cops do. Beyond that, I don't know. You probably knew her better than I did; you spent more time with her than anyone else of recent." "Including her father," Nick stated. "Very possibly. I mean she didn't live at home. That I'm aware her parents are estranged from one another... She probably always felt like having to distance herself just to be taken seriously. Except with you." "At first--" "At first all you had heard were rumors. And you know how accurate rumors can be." "He mentioned rumors--about us. I think he believes them--that we are and have been for some time in a relationship." "Well, that's not entirely inaccurate." "A romantic one," he clarified, then looked back at Tracy's headstone. "If she really talked to her father often, said a lot about me, he would have known it's just rumor and he wouldn't have mentioned it." Nick pulled the bundle of flowers from Natalie's hand and moved forward, where he set them in front of the headstone. The bunch of white daisies and purple wildflowers weren't the only extra decorations, but they were by far the most unique. Simple and not remotely typical for a funeral, but he didn't regret his choice. Returning to Natalie, he let her guide him back to her car. They didn't talk until they arrived and Natalie pressed her keys into Nick's hand. "I want you to drive by where I had gotten that headache." "Nat--" "If it's a person, if they live in that area... Nick, if it happens again, then maybe we will know what that is." He stiffened, clenching his fingers around Natalie's keys. "I know it could maybe cause issues, but worst thing that could happen is, what, we leave right away instead of waiting a little bit? Okay?" "Yeah, all right," he said, forcing himself to move and head to the driver's side of Natalie's car. "Just next time...mention whatever before we get to it? Please?" "Then you do know--" "We're going to your apartment. That was a given." He got in and then waited for Natalie. He had to fiddle a little more with the keys than he was used to as she drove his car far more often than he drove hers, but within moments they were on their way to Natalie's via a slightly indirect route. Once fairly sure he had the right street, he slowed and looked over at her. She had tensed, as if either dreading or trying to prepare, and he knew he was driving in the right direction. "Just let me know if you want me to speed up or pull over, whatever." Natalie nodded and started looking outside at the street, her eyes drifting to each building as they slowly rolled by. Nick's eyes were on Natalie more than the road or where they were. Then, as he somewhat feared, she shut her eyes tight. There it was again, and his attention went to the surrounding buildings as he pulled over. "Nick--" "Let's just see if anyone comes to look outside," he said. They were, after all, in a semi-residential area--there were apartments above or between businesses, most of which were still open. And they weren't that far from Natalie's apartment, not really. A few minutes at most by car. "Unless you want to go?" "No, no, but as soon as you see something, leave." He went back to scanning the windows, letting his senses take over a bit more than he normally would. Most of what he heard was typical, but after a moment somewhere he heard a curtain shifting. His eyes snapped to what his ears had heard, and sure enough a man stood in an upstairs window looking down at the street. Not waiting to see if they were seen, he pulled back onto the road. "Nick?" "Yeah, someone came to their window to look down on the street. So your theory is right." "And what did they look like?" "Like they wanted to know who was there." "Yeah, but I mean--" "From what I could see...a man, and..." "Probably not someone we want to run into again, I take it?" "Probably not, just to be safe." "Ah, well then, let's make sure we avoid this street from now on, okay?" Nick relaxed, smiling. "Yeah, we can do that." "Good." Within a few more minutes they were in Natalie's neighborhood, and Nick pulled the car up in her usual parking spot. "While we're here, I want to pack up a few more things." He nodded and got out, following Natalie into the building and to her apartment door. He tensed and pushed her out of the way when she went to unlock the door only to find it already unlocked. He knew he had locked it the previous evening. Carefully, quietly pushing the door open, he entered, keeping Natalie behind him. The unlocked door wasn't the only warning sign that something was wrong. The lights were on, then Natalie's cat came skidding right at them. Nick just managed to reach down and pick Sydney up before he could shoot out past them and into the hall. The cat didn't seem to mind his hold one bit, and Nick ventured further into the apartment, cat in hand. There, on Natalie's sofa, sat LaCroix. "What the hell are you doing here?" "I thought I would assist." "Assist? With what, exactly?" she demanded. "We're here to take care of my cat and--" "Well, the plan was to take care of...that," LaCroix said with a nod to the animal. "When was the last time you had a pet, let alone took care of it?" Nick asked. "And horses don't count. Nor do I." LaCroix grinned. "I merely thought that it would allow Natalie more time to train." "Or you wanted to snoop while we were elsewhere." "Or perhaps both," he said with a smile. "If you're looking for my notes, they're not here," she told him. "I'm fully aware of where you've stashed your 'notes'." "You've read them." "Of course I have. I wanted to know what you've done to him." "Did you take them or destroy them?" Natalie demanded. "No." "Natalie did nothing I didn't allow," Nick stated, then asked, "Now why are you here?" "For the stated reason. I thought I would assist." "Why, do you want to move in here temporarily?" Natalie asked. LaCroix chuckled a little at that. "No, Nicholas' couch is plenty enough for me, my dear." "How did you get in?" Nick asked, only to hear a rustle of keys as his sire pulled them out of his pocket. His keys. Still holding onto Sydney, he quickly stepped forward and snatched his keys back. "It took a few tries, but I eventually found the correct key." "If you really want something to do, I'm sure we can make up a list," Nick suggested. "And it *won't* involve Sydney," Natalie added. "And Nick...here, give him to me." Nick gladly let her take the cat. While Sydney didn't seem to have a problem being held by him, he hadn't much liked being moved toward LaCroix. "I'll put him in the bedroom," Natalie whispered and left. Nick waited, watching LaCroix' gaze follow Natalie out of the room before it returned to him. "Why do you want to help?" "Because your lessons of the last couple of days have helped more than mine, if you must know. And those seem to go better when I am not there, watching." "Don't you have...something to do? What about the club?" "Sold." "So you're bored," he guessed. "Perhaps...a little. And Natalie appears to be relocating her belongings to your loft. I assume she is planning on moving out of her apartment--" "And you thought you'd help," Nick finished. Maybe LaCroix was simply trying to assist, trying to help as it appeared. "If you really want to help, like I said, we'll make up a list." When the other man neither budged nor replied, he added, "Later. And you still haven't told me where the old priest lives. It would be a good idea to know in case we have to leave abruptly." "Why would you have to leave abruptly?" "In case the other one saw my car," Natalie answered. "I had Nick drive by where I had the migraine or whatever before. It happened again and Nick saw someone looking down at the street, looking for...probably looking for me." LaCroix visibly stiffened. "Please, LaCroix, we need to make more plans than just clearing out Natalie's apartment." "If you have to leave abruptly...I am sure you remember where my apartment in Paris is. Go there and I will meet you. It was remodeled recently, so you may have to move some furniture when you arrive, whether that be tomorrow or months from now." "I'll need the key," Nick said. "The entry has a keyed in code." "Which is?" "The year I made you," LaCroix answered, then shrugged. "It seemed the most convenient number at the time... If you are desperate, you can always check old churches in the area...he lives nearby." "Thank you, LaCroix. Now go--go plan Natalie's next lesson." "It's planned...has been." "Then go for a walk." "A walk?" "You know what I mean," Nick said and he looked away. "The longer you stay, the longer it will be before we return to my place." He waited, and after a moment LaCroix thankfully stood and left. "Nick...what did you mean by walk?" "Whatever." "Do you think he'll, ah, kill--" "I don't know what he'll do," he said, cutting her off before she could spell it out more than she already had. LaCroix could very well kill someone tonight; it wouldn't surprise him one bit. "And I don't plan on asking him." Taking in a deep breath, he said, "Let Sydney back out. We should finish whatever it is we want to get done before he decides to come back." "Are we really going to make a list up?" "We could... Worst case scenario he doesn't do anything with it." "No, worst case scenario he makes it harder for us to do whatever we put on the list. He'll sabotage us or--" "He wants to leave, Nat. He's not going to do anything that might jeopardize that. And we don't have to do a list up today. It was just a thought." "I still don't trust him with Sydney." "I'm not sure you have a choice. For one, he probably made a copy of your apartment key. For another--" "If he wants in, he'll find a way." "He'll pick the lock...if he has to." "Have you seen him--" "No, but I know he could manage it." His lips twitched up into a smile. "It's not something he'd do with others around, nor admit doing himself." "Ah, yes, he'd probably have you pick the lock, wouldn't he? Assuming simply breaking it isn't an option." Nick just kept smiling and headed to the kitchen to pull out something for Sydney. Yes, LaCroix very much preferred to get others to do menial tasks whenever possible. Menial tasks like moving furniture. Future Tense - (12/36) Several weeks later, Natalie felt far more confident during her lessons, even when LaCroix made a very solid attempt to make her bleed. Granted, he always eventually succeeded, but it took longer. She also tolerated her injuries better, or at least her reaction to them. The first time he had severely sliced into her arm, right down to the bone, that had been it for the night. Now she could at least pitifully attempt to continue to defend herself, which she supposed was something. She had no idea if that was her improved skills, or if he was purposely allowing it, however. Nick had continued giving her mini lessons, letting her practice certain moves over and over. He even used a little bit of the vampire's strength and speed, just to make it harder. That definitely helped her. She had been dead on that Nick was a good teacher, and still probably the better of the two men in that regard. She and Nick didn't really ever try fighting, however, not full-out like she had to with LaCroix. He had made multiple attempts to get them to fight one another. Generally all that did was make them all frustrated. And it had gotten Nick killed twice, and like the first time, LaCroix had aimed for the heart. She had also experienced death several more times. Three times thanks to LaCroix, once the latest time he had killed Nick--who had fed from her when he woke--and then once a couple of days ago as they lay in bed. That last time she had convinced him to feed from her, practically forced him to bite her with kisses and her touch. He hadn't overly protested, but she had seen the horror in his eyes when she had revived with him hovering over her. And now, tonight, LaCroix had been trying to get them to really fight again...which of course resulted in neither of them doing anything beyond standing there. Natalie winced as he came at her, but all he did was take her weapon. She tried to keep hold of it, knowing he would go for Nick, but failed. "Why won't you fight one another?!" LaCroix yelled, turning on his son. "You will not hurt her, and you cannot hurt Nicholas, not easily nor by accident." Natalie flinched as he brought his weapon down toward Nick, hard. She half expected the swords to be damaged as Nick blocked the blow, but it was just the start. LaCroix was angry, and he disarmed and forced the younger man to his knees. She knew exactly what was coming, what would be next, and as Nick looked somewhere between terrified and resigned, she rushed forward and grabbed the dropped sword. Then, barely thinking, she stabbed the sword through LaCroix' back. As intended, as hoped, she had managed to stop LaCroix, but she felt ill when it hit her what she had done. Worse, a moment later the sword in LaCroix' hand slipped to the floor and he fell to his knees with an odd, strangled chuckle. And Nick...he looked even more horrified as he stopped his sire from immediately falling. "Natalie, pull it out." "I..." She shook her head slightly. The sooner she pulled it out, the sooner he would wake and possibly kill her. For good. "Do it, Nat. Now!" At the second prompting, she slowly pulled the sword from the still mildly conscious LaCroix. It was harder to pull it out than she expected, and she had to give it a good yank to pull the blade completely free. Then she let it drop and helped Nick by taking one of LaCroix' arms as he collapsed. He still looked horribly pleased and like he wanted to laugh. He finally fell unconscious with his eyes open and a half-smirk on his features, and she felt sick again. "Nat--" "I had to do something. I couldn't just watch him murder you again," she said, turning and walking away. "Is he going to kill me when he wakes up?" "I don't know what he'll do. If you want to leave--" "What's the point? He'll find me, won't he?" "Just...wait. He'll--" Nick cut off as LaCroix woke, sitting up looking more out of it than usual. "That was...uncomfortable." Natalie just stared blankly at LaCroix as he first sat there, then stood with Nick's help, which he quickly pulled away from. Then he started for her. "LaCroix--" Nick started, but he stopped and tensed when the other vampire shot a glare back at him. Natalie managed to stay where she stood even as LaCroix walked right up to her, then behind her. She couldn't tell what he thought about what she had done, but seeing the holes in his shirt made her feel certain he'd be furious at best. LaCroix didn't exactly wear cheap clothes, not even for their training. He liked expensive brands--like Armani--far more than Nick did. She didn't want to know how much money of his she had just ripped to pieces. As he came back around in front of her, she met his gaze. Then she stiffened as he grabbed her chin. "Finally. I had begun to think you weren't capable of killing." He roughly released her. "I know it is not something you approve of--not with your past, your profession of choice--but it should not have taken this long." "So you've been...stabbing Nick, killing Nick, just to get me to react?" "Well, not 'just' to--" "Is that the same reason you've--" "No. I killed you because any opponent would have. You must learn to avoid death just as you must learn to take any chance you have." "But you didn't expect Natalie to kill you," Nick said as he slowly walked forward. "I saw it. She caught you off guard." "As I stated, I had the impression she would merely shut her eyes as you fell, then rush to you once she felt it safe...like the last time and the time before that," LaCroix answered, not quite turning away from Natalie. "Do you feel safe?" "You know I don't." He once again lightly chuckled. "Yes, I do, don't I?" Now he turned. "And you, Nicholas...what will get you to defend her? Will you even defend her if it comes to it? Can you?" Natalie tensed again when LaCroix again took her chin, but this time she knew his plan--he was going to feed from her. Rather than stab her with the sword, he was going to drain her. She tried to pull his hand away, but couldn't. Nor did she need to. Nick had flown forward and forced LaCroix away, pulling him back with an arm around his neck. That didn't last long, but he didn't go for her again. Nick, however, was noticeably agitated. His eyes had changed and he still glared at LaCroix, who sneered back toward them both. "Took you long enough as well; you won't be able to do that with her attackers, however. If you do, you'll have to kill them, Nicholas. Remember that." Nick shut his eyes and bowed his head; she could see him struggling to regain control, but there was nothing she could do to help. "Now, why don't we try something different?" LaCroix said as he headed back to where he had woken. He picked up both fallen sabers, then walked over toward his son. "Why don't you try protecting her. That is what you'll have to actually do, unless you plan on standing by as she tries and fails to fight for her own life." Nick hesitantly took one of the weapons. "It's a pity we don't have a third sword...you'll just have to make sure she doesn't get hurt." As LaCroix' voice turned from almost amused to angry, Natalie then tensed as he started for her with the blade. Nick stopped him, but only by flying, by using what he was, and she immediately saw the other man's displeasure. "That won't do, Nicholas. Again, but be more careful." "*You're* using what you are." LaCroix grinned. "Of course, but no one would notice." He tried to get by his son again, but stopped after a few quick strikes back and forth, at which he focused in solely on Natalie again. "Or I suppose I should say almost no one. You know this is more than it appears, correct?" Natalie stiffened, but managed to nod. "Figured." She watched as LaCroix circled her, and she backed away from him. Nick hadn't moved between them, not yet, not until he had to block another blow. She hated this new game of his--it felt like she was far more likely to die again, and she very much did wish they had a third sword. It wouldn't help, though; they'd still be playing this game. LaCroix continued to circle her, trying to strike her, but Nick stopped him every time, even when he changed tactics. "Maybe Nicholas is not so useless a protector..." Natalie flinched back again as LaCroix tried harder, but rather than just use the sword, he tripped Nick. That very much didn't seem to be on his radar, and in another split second LaCroix had reached her. He grabbed her from behind and put the blade right up to her neck. "Let her go, LaCroix," Nick said as he stood, but he didn't approach. "You've made your point." "I don't believe I have." Natalie shut her eyes as she felt LaCroix bring the blade slightly back, to where it pressed into her neck more. While he was using the blunt, back side of the blade and it didn't draw blood, it still hurt. She knew and Nick had to know there was nothing either of them could do. Natalie tried not to struggle as LaCroix shifted his hold, and she felt his lips on her neck. "Please, LaCroix, let Natalie go." "Not just yet." Fangs sliced into her neck as LaCroix fed from her. He was far less gentle with her than Nick had been, even when he had fed from her out of need. Like with Nick, she saw flits from LaCroix' memories, which were strange. Nick's, she understood--as LaCroix was demonstrating Nick reacted to emotion--but what she felt from LaCroix also consisted of strong emotions. Mostly anger, and mostly with Nick as the main supporting cast. Just as she felt ready to pass out, suddenly he simultaneously released her and stopped feeding from her. Surprised, she fell to the ground just as she had the vague impression of Nick flying at her, flying at LaCroix. Forcing herself back up, she found LaCroix shoved against the wall with one of the sabers up to *his* neck. He couldn't free himself, and he looked a bit less amused than usual, more angry like she had seen from when he had taken her blood. "Get out, LaCroix! Find somewhere else to stay today." "And where would you suggest--" "My apartment," Natalie answered, shifting LaCroix' gaze to her. "Your apartment is nearly empty." "Then you can sleep on the floor," Nick said. "Now get out." She watched him let go of LaCroix, and only then did she notice Nick had hold of both sabers, one of which he still held out toward the other vampire. "Move," Nick said, moving forward and backing his sire up. Clearly unhappy, LaCroix moved away, toward the elevator, his attention torn between the two. "We'll have to try again tomorrow night." "Not like this. Not unless you want me to kill you and make sure you can't come back this time," Nick threatened. "You wouldn't know how." "I wouldn't count on that," Nick said as he continued to force the other man back. "Leave before you find out." She watched LaCroix leave, but Nick didn't turn away from the elevator or even relax once the elevator started up. Finally approaching, she called, "Nick?" "He shouldn't have done that." "That he does things he shouldn't is not new. To be honest, it's something to kind of expect from him, I think." "But he shouldn't have...he fed from you." "And I'm okay. I'm all right." "That doesn't matter!" he said, spinning. "He shouldn't have-- Natalie--" She went right up to him and took his face in her hands. His eyes were gold again, his fangs descended. "He purposely tried to and knew he would make you...jealous, envious, whatever. It's what he wanted. He knew you'd--" "But if he knew, then why? Why--" "Because...he said it before, you--" Nick pulled Natalie's hands down. "Because I don't react logically, which according to LaCroix and even you is a fault of mine." "Me?" she initially asked, but then closed her eyes and nodded. "Well, all right, maybe at times, but I think you did much better when you had more reason to...protect me. And I don't think it's a fault, quite. It's a very human way to react to things. He reacts on emotion the same as you or I, Nick." "But you don't feel like I do now." Natalie pursed her lips as she looked up at him. No, she didn't feel like he did, but she had a general idea how he felt just by how he looked. "You want to hurt him," she said, starting. "Yes, but that's not all." She caught his eyes go hungrily to her neck for a moment; there must be either blood on her collar or a little still on her skin. "Well, if you're hungry, I think you should start with something from the fridge." "Nat--" "I said start with. It doesn't mean either that's it or that it's just the start." She paused, then told him, "I know you're having a hard time with this, Nick. I am, too, but I know this is probably harder on you than me, and we're still rather lost on all of this. I am not going to judge you, not on how much blood you drink or what kind. I know there's human blood in there, and then there's also--" "Yours," Nick finished. "It's more than that, though, Nat." "Well, we have a day free of LaCroix to relax," she told him, trying to smile. She had some ideas of what else he might be feeling and what else he might want. But not right now. She just hoped LaCroix wouldn't take his anger and annoyance out on her cat. "Or...or will he come back?" "I think he'll stay away. He crossed a line when-- He'll stay away, at least for today." Future Tense - (13/36) Late that morning Nick lay half-awake, slightly away from Natalie, worried. LaCroix hadn't come back, which he was grateful for. After his sire had left, however, he had had not only cow's blood and some of the human blood that his sire had added to his supply, but more or less killed Natalie. Again. She had seemed fine with it, but she had already been fed from once that day. LaCroix hadn't taken as much as he had, but he had the distinct impression that Natalie had a slightly higher tolerance for injury than normal humans. LaCroix had taken enough of her blood that she probably should have passed out. He had seen mortals die far faster by both his own doing and LaCroix'. Then she had made a change to her routine--their routine. She had come to bed with just a t-shirt. That was why they slept a bit apart. Or tried to. He didn't think she was sleeping any more than he was at the moment, despite that her eyes were closed and both her breathing and her heart were slow and steady. "Nat? You awake?" "Hmm, yes." "You do know it'll be noon soon." "And being July, we can't exactly go by my apartment until late. It's fine." Nick wanted to disagree, but she was right. Not only could she stay up a couple more hours and still get a full day's rest, but she would be up well before sunset. And he...vampires needed even less sleep than mortals. "Do you want to go downstairs for a bit?" "Just me or--" "Both of us," Nick specified, smiling even though he knew she wouldn't be able to see. "No, I don't want to go downstairs. What I do want is... Today you kind of moved over, and you pushed the comforter down between us." He winced. So that was why Natalie hadn't fallen asleep. He had done that after she told him she had only put on a t-shirt. She had even asked him if it would be all right, and not wanting to disappoint her, he had said it would be. While it was part of why he hadn't, it was for a slightly different reason. "Do you want me to--" "No," he said without thinking. "You didn't even let me finish my question..." "You don't need to change." "Then will you please stop fencing yourself off with the comforter?" Nick hesitated, but supposed it couldn't be much worse. Even with her laying there nearby, her blood tempted him. It wouldn't tempt him too much more with some of her skin touching his...and it's not like it'd be that much more skin. Shifting, he moved closer toward the center of the bed, where Natalie had ended up in an attempt to lay closer to him. Her skin felt searing hot to his already tempted instincts, but soothing. Just after he had managed to pull her next to him, however, Natalie moved, rolling him back onto his back as she straddled him and kissed him. He instinctively put his hands along her waist and hips, and as he hit even more bare skin than he expected, he moved his hands to her arms and pushed her back. "No," he said, practically pushing her off of him to the side and away, keeping her at arm's distance. "Nick, you won't hurt me. You know you won't--" "I might not kill you, but I can--and will--hurt you." "And I've told you it really isn't that unpleasant. Getting hit by a bus would hurt a whole hell of a lot more, and without--" "Being fed from is just as addictive as me feeding from you." "But you want to learn to not need it, right? Or to not need to take it to the point I do a bit more than simply pass out. Right?" "I..." Nick closed his eyes, trying to focus. Yes, he did want to learn how to not take so much, and the only way to do that was to practice, but it didn't change how he felt about this. He didn't feel ready. It was one thing to take Natalie's blood when they both had blood on them from LaCroix' lessons, but it would be another as they both lay naked, their bodies melded together. He would kill her within seconds. "I'll change. It's fine." Nick, however, didn't let her move away from him when she tried to pull back. "No. No, just wait." "I don't want to pressure you into doing something you clearly don't want to do." "It's not that I don't want to," he said, barely thinking. "Well, that's good to hear." "I thought that was pretty obvious? For...years." "I thought it was." He felt uncomfortable; Natalie's voice had gone quieter and more uncertain. "While I know you've still been holding back, it's been almost two months since we've known you won't kill me. To be honest, I've been starting to wonder... When I asked you to make love to me that night, I had actually kinda hoped you'd do more than take my blood. Granted, it's probably good we didn't, given..." "I knew LaCroix would come," he told her, finishing that thought. "I knew he had already packed, that it wouldn't be long before he came for me. And even if we had...I still would have killed you." "It doesn't change that you know you won't kill me now. Or, well, even if you do, I'll be fine." "But I hate seeing you... It's not the same as seeing you sleeping, Natalie." "And I know if you just try, you can learn to stop. You won't have to see me--" "Dead." "--*unconscious* every time for all eternity." He was afraid of exactly that, although not for the same reasons as Natalie. She could die, possibly easier than he could if LaCroix was right about what she was and why he wanted her to learn how to use a sword. "I know it's not going to be easy for you, especially at first, but I think it will be worth it. I'd suggest starting with just taking my blood, but I think then you'll have to start all over..." He just stared forward through the darkness, down at Natalie's shirt. "Nick? I know we haven't really talked about it, just mentioned it in passing, but--" "All right," he answered, cutting her off. He didn't want to hear her suggest, for a third time, going to change. Relaxing his grip, he nodded to himself, knowing she wouldn't be able to see him. "All right...what?" "Do what you had started, what you probably planned." "Are you sure?" Nick hesitated a moment, but answered, "Yes," as he nodded again and then rolled back onto his back and closed his eyes. He felt far more nervous than he expected as Natalie again resumed straddling him, leaning over him. She seemed more nervous, too, her heart racing along far faster than usual. He hadn't noticed a thing a couple of minutes earlier, so it was his initial refusal that bothered her, made her worry. When she moved to kiss him, he kissed her back almost before their lips touched. This time he didn't put his hands on Natalie's waist, her bare hips, because he couldn't. She held his hands down on either side of his head, just firmly enough that he didn't have any desire to struggle. That first, single kiss turned into several back to back, then Natalie pulled back away from him, just a little. He half expected she'd pull off her shirt then and there, but instead she reached for the hem of his. He helped her pull it off by sitting up, then she kissed him again as she pushed him back down. Next, Natalie shifted, moving further away. He almost sat up again, but feeling her hands on the waistband of his boxers, he laid his head back and closed his eyes. This time he had to struggle a little to help her pull off that last remainder of his clothes. His fangs descended when Natalie's hand brushed along one thigh. That was the extent of her touch, however, and he opened his eyes just as she pulled her shirt off. While he didn't think she could see him in the almost pitch black of the room, her gaze locked with his. She then again moved back to where she hovered over him, touching his body, his sensitive skin, along the way to another, deeper kiss. Once again he had the urge to push her away as her warm, almost hot skin pressed against his. She didn't push him down this time, and he held her body to him as her kisses moved to his neck. Nick didn't dare return these kisses; if he did, he would bite, take her blood, and this moment of intimacy would be shorter than he already suspected it would be. He had wanted this for so long, and every time she kissed him it aroused him. Now he didn't even need more kisses, her bare skin against his more than enough for him to be ready. It was difficult for him to not flip them and just wait. He wanted Natalie to do this how she wanted, for her to be in control. It was also safer for her how they were; she probably even realized that. Nick tried to just lay still as Natalie kissed his neck, then again kissed him on the mouth. That didn't last long as when she moved he felt her hand slide down his abdomen to his erection, and her fingers were almost too warm. Her touch left almost as quickly as it started, and he groaned, frustrated. She then pulled back from him, and he knew what was coming. Despite that, he now wanted her blood more than ever, and it was so close... He had to wait in agony as Natalie took him so very slowly...or maybe it just felt that way? When she finally leaned forward, whether or not she was ready, he pulled her down and bit into her neck to take the blood he so dearly wanted and needed. On the edge of his consciousness, he felt her push at him, but he couldn't tell if she was just holding onto him or actually trying to free herself. He couldn't stop feeding from her even if he wanted to. Between her blood and her body, this was the most pleasure a vampire could feel at any one time. As much as he ever had, anyway. He eventually managed to stop feeding, but not until long after Natalie had passed out. She wasn't breathing, nor was her heart beating. For a few seconds he just held her there atop him, all but his current feeling of satiety fading. Then, carefully, he rolled her back so that she lay on her back. Nick hated this more than she could possibly understand. To all his senses she had died. Even the way her arm flopped back told him that. He gently repositioned her so that her limbs were straighter, then he pulled the sheets up to her neck. Only then did he lay near her, taking care so that their skin wouldn't touch, his eyes on her the entire time as he waited for her to wake. He didn't have to wait long--no more than a couple of minutes--although to him it felt longer. Natalie woke and tried to sit up, but she couldn't with him laying so close, his arm over her waist above the comforter. "I'm sorry, Nat." "For what?" "For...I took your blood far sooner than you probably wanted me to," he explained. He could tell she didn't like him apologizing again, but he needed and wanted to. "It's fine, Nick. Although..." He felt her tug on the fabric in his hand; he didn't let go. "Do we need to put some clothes on? I've kind of gotten used to you using me as a pillow, and I think you have, too." Nick smiled a little at that. A pillow? He supposed he had. He had always enjoyed sitting near Natalie, so near their bodies touched, and right from the start of them staying together, sleeping together, they had lain in some sort of embrace. And sleeping apart hadn't worked that great for the first couple hours of the day today. He also, however, now had no desire to take Natalie's blood, much like he hadn't right after the first time he had killed her. They didn't really *need* to get dressed, he supposed, and he said, "No, no we don't have to...although LaCroix could come back before we wake, so--" "And he's, what, going to spy on us eventually, right?" He didn't know what to say to that, although she was right. "Are you saying you don't care if he comes in here and sees you--" "I care, but like I said if not today it'll probably be some other day or night or...whatever. Especially if when we go to Paris he comes with us, which I have a feeling he will. We are, after all, going to be going to his home there. And after that...I mean what if the last several weeks become the norm? It could, couldn't it?" "It...could," he admitted. "Even if he doesn't manage to move in with us, he'll--" "He'll follow us. Exactly. So, again, I care, but I'm not sure I'll really have a choice. It's like why I'm not as upset about him feeding from me as you are. He was going to do it eventually. And I *did* kill him. That probably made it hard for him to not feed from me." Natalie paused, then asked, "So are we changing or...?" He had to consider for a moment. He had already answered, but the more he thought about it, the more he worried. He didn't want Natalie to have her blood drained a fourth time in less than a day. "Not right now, but if I tell you to..." "I'll do whatever you tell me to do, Nick." He could see Natalie's waiting expression through the dim light, and he finally loosened his grip on the comforter and let her roll toward him. He couldn't help but stiffen a little as her bare skin touched his, but it didn't seem to renew his hunger. Relaxing once again, he returned her embrace and closed his eyes, wondering whether they would be able to easily sleep or not. Future Tense - (14/36) As it turned out, that evening neither of them had to worry about LaCroix walking in on them as they slept. They both woke before sunset and dressed. Nick sensed something had ever so faintly changed in his relationship with Natalie. The reason for that was obvious, but what had actually changed he couldn't put his mind on. Lately their friendship had become rather stressed, but that was more from the events of the last year or so rather than anything else. Today Natalie seemed...happier, more relaxed than she had been in a long time. They headed to her apartment at sunset, yet again taking her car. On the way over, she had gotten another headache, but she had kept going. He decided then that he'd drive them home when they left, and by another route. Getting to the apartment, they entered only to find the lights off and no activity. Nick wasn't entirely sure, but it didn't look like LaCroix had stayed. Some things had been moved since the previous evening, though, so he had certainly been there. "This is getting depressing. It's getting bare in here." "Then I suppose we shouldn't have given LaCroix that list," Nick stated as he followed Natalie to the kitchen. "No, no, having everything just disappear, if slowly, is wonderful. It's also wonderful not to have to explain over and over. He can actually follow instructions, which is...not something I thought I'd ever say about him." Nick pulled out Sydney's dish as Natalie pulled out a can of his food, which she opened and put in the small bowl. When she put it down then straightened, he noticed something was wrong. "Nat?" "Go back over by the door; let's see if he'll come out if you back away from his food." "His food that I can't eat--and he knows I can't eat it." "Yeah, but he probably fears you'll eat *him* while he's vulnerable, so..." He moved away and Natalie moved the food dish closer to the other side of the kitchen. "I thought you said he had gotten used to me." "I thought he had. Must have been LaCroix' foul mood last night." They waited, but Sydney didn't come out for his food. Nick followed Natalie as she went to her bedroom--her very bare bedroom beyond some clothes and shoes in her closet--and no Sydney. "Damn it," Natalie muttered, pushing by him and back into the rest of the apartment, where she looked in every remaining cat-sized hiding place, which didn't amount to many options. Realizing what she was doing, Nick closed his eyes to focus, but he couldn't sense Sydney's small, rapid heartbeat anywhere in the apartment. "Nat--" "Either he killed my cat or purposely let him out or--" "Natalie," he said, taking her by the arms, trying to calm her. "Don't jump to conclusions until I talk to him." "And do you think he'll admit to--" "I'll be able to tell if he's lying or not by how pleased he is; I'll probably have an answer as soon as I ask." "Well then, go ask, get it over with." "Nat--" "I don't think it's a good idea for me to see him before I know whether it's his fault or not. If I do, you're going to have to probably stop him from killing me rather than the other way around. I'll be fine for, what, fifteen, twenty minutes at most?" He didn't particularly like the idea of leaving Natalie there alone, but she was on the second floor of her building and the closest street wasn't a main street. "I have plenty of things I can do...like clean the bathroom and kitchen and the like so I can get my deposit back whenever I officially move out, which it's probably time to do. Maybe it'll keep my mind off Sydney." She closed her eyes and breathed out. "Or I can ask my neighbors if any of them found a cat wandering in the halls. And I guess you should check the roof in case either he somehow got up there or LaCroix put him up there or something. I'll check to make sure all the windows are closed and he didn't get out that way." As Natalie crossed the rather bare room to the windows, checked those, then went to the next set, Nick suspected that was futile. He had a feeling LaCroix would have more likely dropped Sydney off miles from Natalie's or just outside the building if he *had* let him out, but he didn't think LaCroix would purposely make things worse, not when he was under threat of death. While Natalie might not be capable of killing him on her own, if his choice was to lose Natalie or help her, he'd help her kill him without a thought. His sire would be no match against both of them, not if they really tried, and LaCroix knew it. He had to, especially after that morning. "Nothing," she said as she came out of the bedroom and started back toward Nick. "Go. I'll be fine. I won't go outside until you get back. I'll be safe here in my apartment." "I'll be back in less than half an hour." "If you can find him." "He'll be at the loft," he assured even though he wasn't at all sure where his sire would be. When LaCroix hadn't arrived back with sunset, he had half-expected he might be here at Natalie's still, but that hadn't been the case. "I'll be back as soon as I can." Then Nick forced himself to turn and leave. Once to the hall, he remembered what she said about the roof--where he was going--and heading up he paused there long enough to survey the surface for any sign of Natalie's cat. Nothing, although he certainly hadn't expected to find anything there. LaCroix had to know this was the easiest, stealthiest way in and out of the building without having to go through the main doors. There would be little point to leave Natalie's cat up here, where he would easily find it. From there he headed to the loft, where he found LaCroix as he had hoped. The older man sat calmly in the recliner, drinking from a glass of human blood. "Where is Natalie?" "At her apartment." "You left her alone? Nicholas--" "She thinks you killed her cat," Nick said moving forward and pulling the glass from LaCroix' hand, which he put on the coffee table. "Nonsense. The wretched animal hid in her room last night when I went there. As usual." "He wasn't in her room, closet, anywhere." "I did not--" "He must have gotten out when you left if you said he was in the apartment." "That animal doesn't come near me. It would not have dared, even to get out. I did not let it out, intentionally or unintentionally." "But you don't like him." "Of course I do not. Keeping animals as pets...you know what I think of that. But I would not have harmed it." "Yes, you would have, Sydney's life is nothing to you," Nick said, nearly pointing out specifics. LaCroix had once had another vampire, one that generally fed on dogs, turn a stray he had taken in...eventually forcing him to kill the loyal yet no longer safe animal. He had never dared try again to have a pet, let alone purposefully. "If you must know I left before sunrise and stayed at a hotel because it hates me so much. It's like it knew what I had done...so I left." "LaCroix--" "I did not harm it nor dispose of it nor *anything* of the sort." Now Nick felt like he had a headache, and he shut his eyes, turned, and brought his hand up to rub his forehead. He had a feeling Natalie had been looking forward to blaming LaCroix for this. So had he. "Do I need to leave again, Nicholas?" "No. No, just...stay here. We might be a while. Natalie has some things she wants to do at her apartment. We might as well finish that for good." He glanced back at LaCroix, then started for the elevator. He had come in that way, and he needed a moment to just think. And if Natalie did move out of her apartment, she'd end up around LaCroix even more. Starting the freight elevator down, Nick closed his eyes again. Natalie wasn't going to like his news, but he believed LaCroix was telling the truth--he didn't let Sydney out or, if he did, it certainly wasn't intentionally. He also believed Sydney wouldn't get close enough to his sire to get out of the apartment...and certainly not without being seen. But it didn't make sense. If Sydney had been in the apartment when LaCroix left that morning, but he wasn't now, how did he get out? Had LaCroix opened a window? Or had he or Natalie? He didn't remember doing any such thing in the past couple of days, but Natalie could have...but then she had checked the windows. As the elevator stopped, he hesitated. He didn't like the idea of Natalie thinking it was her fault, but it could have been hers as much as his...and at a guess, it was more likely one of their faults than LaCroix'. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Ah, yes, I live upstairs, and I'm wondering if perhaps you've seen my cat, Sydney?" Natalie asked for the fourth time. This time she tried someone on the lower level, and after introducing who she was and what apartment she was in, she described, "He's grey and white and has a tag with Lambert on it." "No, I'm sorry. Actually, someone already asked. He said he was a friend of yours?" The question threw her. She didn't think it had been long enough for Nick to get back, but... "Ah, was his name Nick?" "No, I believe he said his name was William. Short black hair, a little over six-foot?" Natalie slowly shook her head. Nick could be described as six-foot--but not over--but his hair would look more blonde than black even in the poor lighting in the hall. And she wouldn't call his hair short if she described him to someone else. She tried not to freeze up, and replied, "Ah, no, I don't know him. When--" "This morning, about ten? I've seen him around the last few days. I believe he said he knew you from college." She tried to smile back as she shook her head, but failed. Then, as she stood there in the doorway of the apartment, the one nearest to the building doors, her head split open in pain again. If nothing else, she was getting used to it a little, and managed to calmly tell the woman in the apartment, "Well, thank you. I'm sure my cat will turn up." Then, before really saying bye, Natalie started further into the building, rushing with the initial intention of going to her apartment. She took the stairs up, knowing it would be faster, then went not to her apartment, but the roof. Somewhere as she reached the second floor the pain stopped, which she hoped meant she might be able to lose whoever it was--she had a feeling that perhaps this William was the same as she was--and that she would be safe until Nick returned. Then she walked as far away from both her apartment and the stairs as possible and stayed still, waiting, panicking. She didn't have one of the sabers--they were both in her car. Stupid. She felt like an idiot running, unarmed, from someone she had no idea if they would actually hurt her or if they were someone who could maybe even help her. Maybe they wouldn't have to go to Paris to ask more questions, or maybe they could get a few answers first? Worse, her car keys were in her apartment in her coat. Arms crossed in front of her, Natalie resisted the urge to pace or even turn on the spot. After a few minutes, she felt like she was being watched. Turning, she found Nick standing a few feet away. "Natalie? What are you--" "I went and asked neighbors...when I was down near the front doors, I felt it again, and apparently someone has been asking about me...and my cat. LaCroix didn't let Sydney out, did he?" "No." "Then I guess I'll have to apologize for that..." She shut her eyes and shook her head. "Did he say anything about hearing anyone or anything today? Or even the last couple of days." "No, and he didn't stay here today; he stayed at a hotel," he said, then his expression changed to confusion. "Someone is here? You can feel them?" "No, I can't feel anything right now. I don't know if they came in after me...I stopped feeling whatever once I headed up the stairs. I figured they would go to my apartment, maybe, so I came up here... The swords are in my car and my car keys are inside. I don't even know if they'd hurt me or if maybe we could talk to whoever it is." "Did you see--" "No, I haven't seen them. Ah, my downstairs neighbor said he introduced himself as William, and that he was a bit over six-foot and had short, black hair, but..." "Stay here, Natalie. I'll go down to your apartment, get your keys--" "They're in my coat, so just get that. I don't need anything else." "--and then we can go down to your car and leave." "If he sees you--" "I'm not going to go through the building, Nat. It'll take a minute, maybe two." Before Natalie could protest further, Nick had vanished. Again she had a hard time just standing there, waiting. She knew he could get in; she usually left at least one window unlocked, although she supposed this would be the end of that. Not that they'd be back. True to his word Nick returned in no more than a couple of minutes, her coat held over his arm, her car keys in the other. "Did you lock--" "I made sure the door was locked. I didn't hear anyone in the hall, though." "I'm not sure that's a good thing, Nick. That means they could be downstairs, or--" "Or in the parking lot. It'll be fine, Nat. We can even leave from here and come back later, if you want?" That almost sounded good, but she shook her head. "We should at least get the swords." "Then come here," Nick said, handing out her coat. Natalie took it and pulled it on, then nervously let Nick hold her tightly to him. This wasn't exactly something she did regularly--only the once so far so she would know what it would be like, and that had been nearly two weeks ago. "Ready?" "Just...go," she said and closed her eyes as she returned Nick's tight grip on her. She felt woozy as her feet left the roof, then moments later they were back on the ground...in the grass around the apartment building. She felt fine, normal--no headache--and Nick started walking her to her car. Just as they hit the asphalt she felt it, and right there, leaning against the back passenger side door of her car, stood a man fitting the description from her downstairs neighbor. He had one of the sabers in his hands. He had broken into her car. "Which of you is it?" She remained silent and felt Nick grip her tighter and saw him move in front of her a little. "It is you, then," the man said focused in on Natalie. "What did you do with my cat?" she demanded, knowing it had to be him. "Gave it a new home...I took its collar off and gave it to a little girl in the adjacent building." Natalie relaxed a little, although wished she knew if that was true. The idea of Sydney already rehomed...well, it wasn't the plan, but she supposed that would be fine. Hopefully he'd be happy wherever he was. "You appear to be moving. Poor animal was probably getting bored." He turned his gaze to the sword, turning it, wielding it as he examined it. "These are interesting. Where did you get them?" "What does it matter to you?" Nick asked. The man smiled. "It doesn't, not really. Now, I know *her* name--Natalie Lambert--but who are you?" "A friend," is all Nick said to that. "*Walk away from this.*" "I...don't think so," the man said, smiling again, completely brushing off Nick's influence. "You're new, aren't you? Frightened, hiding behind your mortal friend... Do you even know what you are?" "Why don't you tell us?" Nick asked. Now the man almost laughed. "You know something, obviously. More than enough by the looks of this." His eyes glanced to the blade again. "*Leave, whoever you are,*" Nick tried again. The man merely smiled back, and Natalie tensed. He was another resistor, like herself. "William Carver at your service," the man said with a fake bow, then seemed disappointed when neither Nick nor Natalie moved. "I don't think we need to drag this out, do we? I only want her. You can walk away from this. I don't even know your name." "If you want her, you'll have to go through me." "If I must. I'd kill you both right now...but I like to give everyone a fighting chance, so to speak." Focusing on Natalie, William added, "You'll have two chances...more than most." "Then let's get it over with," Nick said. "But not here." "Of course not here...but around the corner will be fine. Now, walk, both of you," he said pointing the saber down toward a darker alley. "Walk, unless you both want to die right now." Natalie had tried to move further behind Nick, but that hadn't worked very well--he held her tightly at his side. "It'll be all right," he said, and he started to turn them. She didn't like being marched off toward what felt like an execution. That's what this William Carver expected--to execute them both with ease. She let Nick walk them down toward the darker street, although his firm hold on her didn't help her relax any. She could hear footsteps close behind them. While it worried her, she trusted Nick's senses to keep them out of immediate danger. But she also knew they were being followed too closely for him to fly them away. Eventually Nick stopped, and then turned, releasing her and moving between her and the other man. Switching the saber to his left hand, William Carver pulled out his own sword--a simple cross-hilted sword--from seemingly nowhere. Then with a smile he easily flipped the saber, actually letting go before catching the backside of the blade, which he then held out toward Nick. Natalie felt afraid when she saw the little trick--she had never seen Nick or LaCroix do anything like that with the swords--fearing it could be more than just an attempt at intimidation. Whether it was or not, it worked. She backed away, and just about the instant Nick took the saber, the man attacked. The fight reminded her strongly of LaCroix' unmatched duels with Nick, and just like in those, Nick ended up with a sliced open arm pretty quickly. When it barely fazed him, however, that had allowed him to inflict a similar injury on his opponent. As the two circled one another, she saw Nick smile. She even thought Carver might be second-guessing this, but it didn't stop him from trying, and he went full out at Nick again after a slight pause. Nick seemed to be succeeding in pretending to be mortal--his first real test of that. Natalie wanted this over with. She wanted to get away from here, and she wanted Nick to be safe. She didn't want him to lose his life trying to protect her. As they moved closer to her, she moved further down the alley out of the way. This was worse than when Nick and LaCroix fought. With those two, there was always some element of fun...a little bit of enjoyment, and not the murderous, psychotic pleasure William Carver seemed to take in fighting Nick. So backward with what she had seen of LaCroix, but the difference was stark. Natalie winced when Carver cut Nick again, or she should say stabbed him in the shoulder. He didn't recover as quickly this time, but he held the other man's hand in place on the hilt of his sword, effectively immobilizing him, surprising his opponent. Then she watched Nick rather effortlessly pull off what seemed like LaCroix' favorite move. He stabbed his own sword up into the chest of his opponent and right on through. Then Natalie slowly watched the man pass out and die once Nick let go of him. Initially they first both fell to their knees, and then Carver finally fell back when he pulled the saber out. It looked a lot more painful than it did when Nick had been run-through; is that what she looked like to him? She hurried forward as Nick pushed the other sword out of his shoulder by the guard, and it clattered to the asphalt. "Nick?" "I'll be fine," he said, bending down to get Carver's sword. "Back to the car. Get anything you want or need out of it." "We're taking his sword?" she asked as he started slowly back the way they had come. "He can find a new one. What do you need from your car?" "Ah, other than registration, insurance...that's it. Assuming it's still there. And the other one of those," she said nodding to the saber. "What about from your apartment?" She shook her head. "No, I think it's just down to a few pieces of furniture, food I don't want, Sydney's--do you think we could find out where he took him? They could take whatever remained of his food, litter, whatever else..." "If you want I can try in the morning--alone, or maybe we can send LaCroix to do it--but right now we need to leave before he wakes up." Natalie stopped Nick for a moment, trying to look at his shoulder, which he still seemed to be holding a little oddly. He pulled away when she reached out toward him. "Nick..." "I'm fine," he said, continuing walking back to the parking lot. Natalie wanted to protest, but thought better of it. He was right in that they needed to go before Carver woke up. The Immortal would probably wake before they quite left as it was, but as long as they were gone by the time he got into the open, they'd be fine. "So we're just going to ditch my car?" "It's the same man from before, from--" "He saw my car and--" "Found its owner." "How?" Natalie asked. "He probably saw the license plate, and he didn't live that far away," Nick said, slowing upon reaching Natalie's car. "Keys?" Natalie glanced to the door, then kept going to the passenger side of the car. "Well, looks like the driver's side door is unlocked, so I don't think you need them. Probably the back one, too, given that's where you put the swords. Your detective skills lapsing that quickly?" She was pleased to see a partial smile in response to her teasing, and she unlocked the passenger side door as he pulled open the back door on the other side. He had the saber and the door shut before she had opened her door, sat down, and pulled open the glove compartment. What to take... Eventually she just grabbed every stray bit of paper, things like the registration, insurance, receipts from work done on it--anything with her name or other information on it--and pushed it into a neat pile. Shutting the glove-box, she went ahead and made sure all the doors were locked before getting out. Not that she supposed it mattered. Looking at Nick, he appeared to be having trouble holding onto all three swords. And she knew what he probably had planned for getting back to the loft--another trip by air--and that would mean one more thing to hold onto. "Give those to me. And maybe take this and shove it somewhere...I think you have bigger pockets than I do," she said, holding out her stack of papers. They switched, and by the time he had put away her things, she had hooked her arm around the three swords...and got blood on her coat. She just kind of winced down at it. It would be a good reason to finally get a new, black one. "Let's get out of here." Nick led her to a more secluded area, then he pulled her tight and they left. The much longer trip made her more than a little queasy, until she finally opened her eyes. At first she felt worse, then everything evened out. The city by night looked amazing. They were just high enough to see fairly far, but not so high they could see the edges of the glittering lights. Of course, Nick lived in a fairly quiet, old industrial area, so soon they had reached his less lit up neighborhood. Nick set them down outside the warehouse, right up near the entrance. "You okay?" "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. That was just...all right, I'll admit it, kind of fun. The flying over Toronto part, not the previous stuff." When he led her to the door and let her in, she froze with his hand on her back. "Oh no, I never asked...what did LaCroix--" "It'll be fine, Nat. I think he was more worried you'd come back and scream at him...or worse," he said with a nod at the swords still in her arms. "Everything will be okay. He'll have other things to focus on." Natalie swallowed at that, but let him lead her inside and into the elevator. Yes, she supposed LaCroix would latch onto other things...like the blood on her, the damage to and blood on Nick's clothes, and the extra sword. They stood there, quietly, his hand around her back, as the elevator headed up. Once it arrived, he opened the door and pushed her slightly ahead of him into the loft. LaCroix was there, sitting in the recliner, although he first turned and looked at them, then stood as they slowly approached. Nick zoned in on the partially full glass next to LaCroix, and he approached and snatched it up, downing it the instant he could. "Something happened." "Someone showed up at Natalie's apartment." "One like her." "Yes." "Did you kill him?" "Sort of." "Nicholas--" "He didn't follow us; I made sure of that. We left Natalie's car there. I think it's time for us to leave, or at least Natalie and I should. It's long past time to find out more about what she is, which means you need to finally tell me where that priest lives...and his name, for that matter." Nick pulled off his coat, then his jacket, and Natalie winced seeing the far more visible cuts in his shirt. "Go change, Nick. I'll explain about Sydney." After he had nodded and started up the stairs, she glanced toward LaCroix. Then she went to the kitchen counter, where she struggled out of her coat while still holding onto the swords. She didn't want to put the bloody blades right on the counter, and so she laid them on her ruined coat. "What *did* happen to your cat?" LaCroix asked, following her. "Nicholas came here asking what I did to it...it was there when I left this morning." "The man we ran into, the Immortal, I think he broke into my apartment sometime during the day. He knew my name, which car was mine. He *said* he gave my cat to a girl in another building, although I don't know how true it is. I wish I knew. And I'm sorry I more or less had Nick accuse you of doing something to Sydney. It wasn't you." She tensed when he reached past her, to the new sword, where he touched the blood on the blade--Nick's blood. He licked it off his finger. When he smiled, she looked away. "I see you left him unarmed... Did he see what Nicholas is?" "No." "No? Are you certain?" "Yeah, I'm sure. Although he probably thinks Nick is...well, pretty severely injured. It happened right toward the end. So now what?" "As Nicholas said, it is time to leave. How much is left to do at your apartment?" "It looks more or less like it did this morning." "I'll take care of it," Nick said from across the room. She turned to find him wearing what she assumed was the same pants, but a new shirt. "As long as you don't mind whatever remaining going to charity or into the trash, I can have it cleared out by morning." "And it needs cleaned--the floors, counters, etc." "Or we can have it done before then." Both Nick and Natalie looked sharply toward LaCroix. "We?" he asked. "Yes, we. I have been helping and I intend to finish. And Natalie will be fine here for a few hours. If not, she can always call." Natalie saw that Nick seemed to not like the idea--he was shaking his head ever so slightly. "I'll be okay. I'll stay upstairs. I'm pretty sure there's a limit as to how far away he'd be able to feel me, and you never identified yourself." "But if he could discover your identity, figure out where you live--" LaCroix started. "He'll figure out who my friend was, eventually. I know. But by the sounds of it, he'd been hanging around for days, and he had absolutely no idea who Nick was. It's going to take more than a few hours for him to find the loft. It took him weeks, almost a couple of months just to find my place. I'll be fine. And he's unarmed as far as we are aware, so...chances are his focus will be finding a new sword. I can start looking for a flight for tomorrow night if I know what airport." "Orly is closer," LaCroix stated. "Charles de Gaulle would be acceptable. Do not book anything until Nicholas or I have returned." Natalie watched LaCroix head off toward the elevator, then she shifted her eyes back to Nick, who had moved nearer. "Nick, I'll be okay for a few hours," she assured as he took her hand. She gave his fingers a squeeze, then he started after LaCroix. Once they had left, she turned back to the bloody swords. She might as well deal with those, first, before looking for flights...and then it'd be off to Nick's laptop. She had a feeling he wouldn't let her pay for the tickets. Future Tense - (15/36) "*This* is LaCroix' apartment?" Natalie asked a day and a half later as they walked up to a section of a building with a large sweep of steps into the first floor...the first of five, not counting what seemed to be a basement or cellar of some sort. "Well, it's more of a home," Nick admitted. "I believe he owns the bulk of this building. Most of the adjacent apartments are smaller--much, much smaller, many smaller than they were originally--but he kept this section. He has someone rent the rest out. It's his main source of income, I think." "And do you have a home in Paris?" she asked, shoving Nick in the side a bit. "No, I don't." "London, then?" she asked and got a smile. "Let's get inside and see what kind of a mess it is--how much we absolutely have to move before sunrise." She sighed at that, but they headed up the steps. The earliest arriving flight she had found left little time. Plenty enough to get to the apartment...but not do much else. Nick had flown her there from the airport, as it would have taken too long to both drive and take in the condition of their accommodations--specifically whether or not they'd have to move any furniture around. As Nick unlocked the doors with the pass code, Natalie followed him inside and found...well, not what she really expected. It *had* been remodeled rather extensively by her guess. Other than the shiny wood floors--which had a pattern to them--and ornate banisters, all she saw were clean white walls and a lot of empty floor-space. "He does have furniture somewhere, right?" "Should be in the cellar and in the room in the back on this floor. And more upstairs. Supposedly." "Supposedly," she repeated. That just sounded...great. 'Supposedly'. She sighed. "So, where to?" "I'll see if we have somewhere to sleep, and you can see if the appliances are plugged in." "So, kitchen? Which is?" "Second floor. I think." "You think?" "The last time I was here wasn't even in this century. It was right after he bought it, which wasn't long after the renovation of the city. It's completely different now. Except the floors and the banister. Everything else has been modernized at least twice now." "What about the furniture?" she asked curiously. "I have no idea," he said, his gaze going to the stairs. Then he took Natalie's hand and pulled her forward, leading her up stairs to the next floor up. There he let go and told her, "I'll check out the upper floors." She watched him continue up. Once he was out of sight, she had two options. She could go back toward the front, where there was at least one room, or into the open area that looked like it could, possibly, be the kitchen by the counter near the entrance. Taking the second option, she found a very modern-looking kitchen. Everything was glass, stainless steel, black, or white. No curtains adorned the windows at the back, and she walked over to find a garden--shared for the building, she assumed. That, or everyone had their own mini backyards and she just couldn't see it. There was a small balcony there, and in front of the large doors sat a dining table. Glass and black metal, with simple black chairs to match. Somehow it seemed to fit LaCroix--he didn't strike her as being frivolous. He had stayed at Nick's with almost no belongings for weeks. That said something. Turning, she found the only extra items in the room--a key ring with what looked like house keys on it, probably for the front door. Remembering what Nick said, she tore her eyes from the keys and went to the refrigerator, pulled one of the steel doors open, and...nothing. No light, no hum. It was, indeed, likely unplugged. In a few minutes she had both the refrigerator and the oven plugged in. No microwave. There was a dishwasher, but she didn't bother with that one. Washing one person's dishes and a few extra glasses in it would be...well, a bit pointless when she wasn't working and she had no idea how long they'd even stay here. It could be a few days or it could be much longer. Knowing she'd have all day to explore the rest of the apartment if she wanted, she left the kitchen and headed up the stairs to find Nick. She ran into him on the fourth floor, coming out of a room. "So, anywhere to sleep?" "In here...although we need to find drapes. And the kitchen?" "Fridge plugged in. No microwave. I thought you said he had modernized this place? And should I ask if there are any plates, or pans to cook with?" "I have no idea. Possibly not. We'll have to make a list of things we need to buy." "I was kind of hoping to go to that store we passed to get some things... All I got on that plane was sleep and peanuts." "We can go get you something for breakfast." Natalie tensed at the wording. Her, not him. He was probably hungry, too, or would be very soon. "And probably lunch, too. I plan on sleeping more toward the afternoon." "Just tell me what you want and I'll--" "No, you are not going on your own," she firmly stated, took his hand, and started pulling him down the stairs. "You can take me and I'll point out what I want so you can buy it." "Nat--" "I am not going to stay in here all the time. We *are* in Paris, I hope we'll go to more than that church." "We will. Don't worry. And I plan on showing you more than just Paris." "You do?" "Yes." "Where else?" Nick smiled. "You'll just have to wait. And for now...let's go so we can get back before dawn." "Hmm, and so I can hunt down some drapes." "Yes. Probably up in the attic." "Attic? I thought--" "Or it could be downstairs, but I'll bet a lot got put in the attic...which is really another whole floor." Natalie had stopped and had to follow Nick down the stairs as well as resist repeating Nick's last comment. An attic the size of another floor. Attics and Paris just didn't seem to go together, although she did wonder what might be stored away. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. That evening, Natalie dragged Nick out of bed no more than three or four hours after they had fallen asleep and a couple of hours before sunset. The sun wouldn't set until nearly ten rather than nine, and he somewhat doubted their plan to go see the priest tonight...until Natalie had reminded him that supposedly he lived there at the church. It wasn't far--both the apartment and the church were in the same arrondissement of the city...and in the Latin Quarter, which of course was LaCroix' favorite part of Paris. Now Nick wondered whether the location of the apartment had something to do with this Immortal priest rather than just being the location of the old Roman city and the more modern university. That day they had received a package--from LaCroix--with clothes and a few other items for both of them. The box had meant they hadn't needed to bring any luggage or other items beyond essentials, identification and money, which had been nice for getting from the airport that morning. The swords had been another matter. Nick had talked the swords past security, or he should say he had managed to get them around the metal detectors rather than through... Natalie hadn't been fond of that, given they could have very well been caught, but he didn't have a case for the swords for another excuse so they had both been hidden under his coat and he had used what he was to get them through. They had only brought two--one of the sabers and the newly confiscated sword that they both liked, although Natalie wished it were smaller and lighter. Tonight or tomorrow Nick planned on more thoroughly going through the top floor and the cellar to see if LaCroix had anything interesting lying about. If not they'd have to go to London for his things, some of which were in a similar but smaller home, and some of which were in a storage locker. There he knew he had a sword tucked away that would be more suitable for them both. Natalie ate something--an extra sandwich he had bought for her that morning--and then as the sun set, they left. She had insisted on walking since it was already rather late. He had agreed, although more because he didn't know the exact location of the church or what it looked like, even though he knew that area well. True, he knew it was an old church--supposedly 13th century. It had been in that century that LaCroix had brought him across in this very city, and if it was that old, it had surely been renovated or the like at some point. But beyond that...he didn't think he had ever been there. Arriving at their destination, however, he recognized the church and came to an abrupt halt. "Nick?" "I've been here before." "I hope you have..." "No, I mean I've been to this church before, I think. As in inside it." "You just think?" He didn't reply; he couldn't place the memory. It was just something about the building itself, or maybe the doors. Perhaps he'd recall once they entered or once they meet this Immortal. "Let's go inside." "You sure you don't want just me to go?" "I'm not going to melt if I see a cross, just if I touch them, remember? And have you forgotten about your, as you put it, 'atrocious French'?" "I just know you don't like how churches feel, and I have a feeling the older the building--" "I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you if this is some trick of LaCroix'." "You think he lied?" "No, I just feel we should be careful," he said, glancing to Natalie before he started to guide them inside. Unlocked, thankfully. "If you--" "Oh, you'll know if I feel anything," she whispered back. Nick now scanned the wide-open area of the hall, and he heard one faint heartbeat nearby and smiled. "Bonjour? Nous sommes ici pour voir Père Darius?" He heard some movement, and started Natalie in that direction. When he glanced to her, however, she shook her head. Whoever was here was not like her. An old, white-haired priest dressed in traditional garb came out, and Nick immediately knew it wasn't who they wanted to see. "Connaissez-vous un Père Darius?" "Ah, oui, Darius n'a pas été ici pendant plusieurs années. Vous ne saviez pas?" "Sais quoi?" "Père Darius est mort depuis près de quatre ans." Nick looked helplessly to Natalie, but she seemed even more confused, as if she had gotten part of the conversation, but not enough. "Nat, he died. About four years ago." "Were you friends of his?" the priest asked, switching to English. "We have a mutual friend," Nick said. "Does he have any friends here we could talk to?" Natalie asked. "Father Darius had many friends." "What about recently, before his death?" "I'm sorry--" "Please, we really needed to talk to him about something." "You can tell me if--" "No, it concerned Darius specifically," Nick cut the other man off. Then he began to use what he was to see if he could pry out other information, and suggested, "*If you know of any of his friends, we would like to talk to them.*" "Then...then you may have luck by the river." "*Their name?*" Nick pushed. "Duncan MacLeod," the priest slowly pronounced. "*And where, precisely, by the river?*" "When in Paris, he lives in a barge on the Seine." "*And when he's not?*" "The States." He smiled. That had been easier than he had hoped, and he now had a name and enough information to point them in, hopefully, the right direction. "Thank you, Father...?" "Beaufort, Father Robert Beaufort. I'm...I'm sorry, you never told me your names?" Nick hesitated, but answered, "Nick Knight and Natalie Lambert." "Are you just visiting, or--" "Staying for the time being," he said, smiling, then he led Natalie out before the priest could say too much more. "We're going to stay?" she asked once outside. "Yeah. Might as well, at least while I show you around." "You still haven't explained where that will be." "Not all in Paris," he said. "Come on, might as well see if we can find this MacLeod." "So the river is..." Nick nodded past the church, yet even further from LaCroix' apartment. "There shouldn't be too many barges on the river. Although first a little sight-seeing." "Sight-seeing?" "In the plaza right over there," he said, nodding past the church. "Oldest tree in Paris. It's only four hundred or so, but--" He came to an abrupt halt. There, mere feet in front of them, stood LaCroix. "When did you get here?" "My flight arrived this afternoon." "Afternoon?" "Yes, unfortunately it meant being trapped at the airport...but I had more than enough time to procure some transportation." LaCroix pulled something from his pocket and tossed it. Natalie, slightly in front of Nick, caught the keys. "A car?" "Of course a car. They were all out of horse-drawn carts." Nick had to suppress a smile and refocus before asking, "Why are you here?" "I expected you to still be in the church. I look forward to--" "Your friend is dead," he said and saw LaCroix stiffen, a flicker of anger pass through the other man's eyes. "When?" "About four years ago. I'm sorry, LaCroix." "How did he die?" "I don't know." LaCroix turned sharply, then took a few steps away and spun again. "He might not actually be dead. He could have moved, left--" "He has resided here nearly the entire time this structure has stood, even before then! He would not have left for anything short of the building being leveled, and certainly not with the assumption that he is dead," LaCroix angrily said. Closing his eyes a moment, he regained control and stated, "You would have liked him, Nicholas. So much so that I prevented you from ever speaking with him." "Speaking with him...did Nick ever meet him?" "I have, haven't I?" he asked, glancing back at the building. "There's something familiar about this church...and not just the outside." He waited, but his sire merely stiffened further. "LaCroix?" "Yes, vaguely. In 1793. We were on the run, as usual, and I believe you made some joke about me--of all people--leading you and Janette to a church for safety." At LaCroix' mention of the joke, Nick's memory latched onto something and he closed his eyes, long forgotten memories suddenly becoming perfectly clear. Future Tense - (16/36) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Paris, Late 1793 "It's early, we can find somewhere else," Nick suggested as LaCroix decided on heading over the river rather than out of the city. He knew what would happen if they took refuge in the church. Whoever answered would almost assuredly be dead sometime before the sun next set, and he stopped in his tracks. "We can find some--" LaCroix spun. "*I* am going to the church. Come with me or find somewhere else." He turned toward Janette, who hung back by Nick. "You choose as well--come or not." When Janette started off after LaCroix, Nick stopped her, holding onto her hand. "Nicolas..." "I'll go, just... LaCroix, of all people, seeking shelter in a church..." "Would you rather the mob burn us? Or, worse, use the guillotine on us?" Janette asked, then snatched her hand out of Nick's and ran after LaCroix. Nick followed, reluctantly. It had been Janette's idea to come to Paris. It hadn't been too bad until LaCroix had gotten on the bad side of some barman--looked at him the wrong way as far as he could tell--and Janette hadn't improved matters. Nor had he, for that matter, when he nearly strangled the man...in front of some wretched official. They hadn't stayed long enough to find out who the man was. Paris--France, really--was not the place to be at this time, not when any little disagreement could turn into a death sentence. He didn't see how going to a church in the heart of the city would help matters. The three kept to the shadows until they reached their destination, then LaCroix rapped loudly on the door. "Don't get us into more trouble," Nick said, not wanting to outright ask his sire not to kill anyone. "This was not my fault. Janette wanted to come." "And you jumped at the chance to see this bloody revolution in person," he countered, then turned away to watch the streets as they waited. He barely listened as the priest let them enter, then Janette pulled him in after her and LaCroix. "Myself and my companions could use a place to stay until nightfall," LaCroix whispered to the priest. Nick watched the mortal nod in seeming agreement, make a comment that the church might not be the safest place for them, then told Janette and himself to make themselves comfortable. When LaCroix went off with the priest to another room, he began to pace. "Sit down Nicolas. We may as well try to rest, to sleep. For a church it isn't as intolerable as I expected." "And what is he doing?" "I do not know...nor do I care." He continued to pace until close to sunrise. Janette hadn't slept due to his footsteps, and nor had LaCroix returned. Finally he had had enough, and after turning once more, he started wordlessly in the direction LaCroix had gone. "Nicolas--" "I want to see what he is up to," he said with a glance back, then he continued to a completely shut door. On the other side he could hear voices, but either it was in some language he didn't understand or the door was muffling the syllables too much...or both. Whatever the case, so far the priest still lived. He nearly turned at this, but his curiosity won out and he slowly opened the door...only to get a glare from LaCroix that made him pull the door shut almost immediately. He had seen and heard enough, however. The two were playing chess, and he now recognized the language as Latin. Not the Latin he had been familiar with centuries ago, but an older form, one LaCroix had tried to teach him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "The priest I caught you playing chess with and conversing in Latin," Nick said in the present. "That was why you didn't kill him, because he was this Darius." "Yes, Nicholas, that was Darius." "Do you know anyone else who knew him?" "No...but you know something, don't you?" LaCroix narrowed his eyes at the younger man, then turned toward Natalie, and he smiled. "Yes, you have a name or some other bit of information..." "He might not be one of them, but there's a friend who appears to split his time between here and somewhere in the States. We have a general idea where he might live here in Paris." "Be careful, Nicholas. I may or may not see you in the morning." Nick watched, waited as LaCroix turned and walked off. After giving a glance to Natalie, he took off. "Where is he going and why didn't he prod for more on--" "I think he's going to try and find out what happened," Nick said. "Which I guess will save us from trying to figure that out." "Probably." "So are you still going to show me that tree, or are we--" "Tree, then river," he said with a smile. "Although LaCroix might be the better tour guide." "I think you'll do fine, Nick," she assured, then nodded toward the direction he had earlier. They continued on, LaCroix' interruption almost forgotten. They only stayed a few minutes, then Nick led them toward the river, where he stood for several minutes, simply trying to decide what direction to go while Natalie got one of her first real looks out at the city, at least what she could see at near ground level from where they were. Then they were off with the goal of searching for the barge, but he pointed things out to Natalie as they went. Eventually, they found what was probably the barge Father Beaufort had mentioned. Very few were moored near the center of Paris, and one, a black barge, seemed their likely target. Initially he had boarded and knocked, but even before then, he knew no one was home. "Nick?" "No one here," he said, walking back to the edge and down. "And if the view in through the windows is any indication, whoever it is either hasn't been here for a while or won't be back for a while." "So probably the right barge?" He turned and faced it. He was almost positive... "Probably," he muttered. "Let's go a bit farther, then head back, dig through storage a little more." "While I know we need to find more drapes...maybe let LaCroix find those. You haven't had anything to drink for--" "A day and a half. I'm fine." "And it'll be another almost day before you can get something other than my blood. And LaCroix for that matter." Nick tensed at the last. While he would be fine with perhaps Natalie's blood, LaCroix was...agitated in a way. While it had only been a few days since his sire had gone a little too far, to the point he fed from Natalie, he knew it could happen again for other reasons. His friend was dead, for one. "Nick?" "I suppose I should." "All right, so back to LaCroix'." "Where you'll be staying." "No, absolutely no. I am not staying alone after what happened at my apartment, and if it's a club, it's late enough it should be closed, right?" He felt trapped. He didn't particularly want Natalie to go with him. He had heard things about the Paris clubs, particularly the one closest by car to LaCroix'. "I'll...if LaCroix isn't there when we get back, I'll take you. But if he's there, you're staying." "You'd rather have me stay alone with him than--" "Yes," he stated, then took Natalie's hand and started away from the river. They had to walk a ways before he dared take to the air; it was slower when he took someone, and while late in the evening, they weren't entirely alone. He'd do a more thorough check of the river later, but he suspected they'd already found the correct barge. Future Tense - (17/36) "I know I said I'd carry this, but I'm pretty sure you want it in the kitchen, so..." Nick took the crate of bottles from Natalie once they had arrived back at LaCroix' in what had turned out to be a fairly new--if expensive--car. A BMW. Not really either of their tastes, but then LaCroix rarely bothered with cars, and then generally only if he was a passenger. He had to admit the crate was fairly heavy, and when he reached the kitchen, he was pleased to find LaCroix hadn't gotten blood himself--both the fridge and the cupboards were free of any green-glass bottles. Their trip hadn't been the most pleasant, although it also hadn't gone badly. The club hadn't been closed, despite it being nearly three in the morning before they had gone by, and Natalie had drawn quite a bit of attention being one of only a few non-vampires. It hadn't taken much to get the others to back off, though. Strangely, despite their location, he ended up being one of the oldest vampires there. The exception being the woman in charge--she was a little older than Janette by his guess, although her age of appearance was younger. He had ordered in French, which hadn't made Natalie any more comfortable, nor did the woman when she rather openly looked Natalie over. "So, is LaCroix back? Can you tell?" "He's not here," Nick said as he put the last bottle away in a cupboard. He had put all but one in the cupboard, knowing LaCroix disliked his meals chilled unless necessary. "Nick, what--" "Trying to avoid one argument with LaCroix," he answered, then he eyed the windows in the kitchen. They had so far only found drapes for the bedroom, so this room would be next. "Attic or--" "Attic. I'll go start looking while you eat," he said, smiled, and left. He took the stairs a couple at a time, winding upward where he stopped to drop his coat--and the swords--off in the bedroom. He almost left but spied an out of place item on the bed. A note. He snatched it up and opened it. It was from LaCroix, obviously, and surprisingly simple. He didn't know when he would be returning, in the study was his laptop with some files on it, and then he had written an address of where he and Natalie should be able to practice. For a moment Nick was torn whether to go down to the study--ground floor--to tell Natalie about the note now, or just go to the attic as planned. Eventually he did the latter, knowing the sun would be up relatively soon. He didn't have long that he could look, whereas the study was completely enclosed. It was also rarely used, and he felt faint surprise it hadn't been turned into storage as well. Natalie had joined him in the attic just after he had toppled a box over. Something broke, and he sure hoped it wasn't too priceless. He didn't open that box, instead telling Natalie about the note and then sifting through the room. Nothing. When dawn came, she suggested they take a break and she would hunt the drapes down later. He had agreed, wanting to see what LaCroix had left. Sitting down at the rather old and pristine wooden desk, he flipped the computer open and found it was already on and logged in. An open file stared back at him. A scanned in newspaper article with an almost recognizable photograph. "So is that--" "Yes, that was who we were coming to see." "What does the article say?" Nick skimmed it, but when it came down to it, there wasn't much, and he shook his head. "Not much. Confirmed dead." "So he was--" "I would assume killed by another Immortal," Nick guessed. "I thought LaCroix said--" "I get the impression it was only a guess. Guesses can be wrong--even his." "Does the article mention any of his friends?" "Not by name. There really isn't much here." He closed the file only to find another beneath it; another article. "And they didn't find who did it?" He scanned the new article--shorter and less-informative than the first--before answering, "I don't think so. And the cases you've done autopsies on...I think you said they went unsolved, too, didn't they?" "Yeah. Either absolutely nothing or not enough to arrest anyone. A forensic dead end and lots of circumstantial evidence that doesn't mean squat without something tangible to back it up." She paused, then asked, "Do you think that friend of his knows what happened?" "Maybe." Skimming a third article, Nick almost smiled. "His name is mentioned in this one; he was here in Paris when Darius would have died." "And if this MacLeod isn't here, how are we going to find him?" "You said not enough to arrest someone...Paris police might have a file on him. And they'd probably have a note of his address in the States, if they do." "Hmm, because that's what you'd do?" He did smile a little at that. "Well, it would more or less be protocol." "Hmm," Natalie said again, then she nodded to the screen. "LaCroix add any other files?" Nick fiddled a little, but nothing that he could see. "No." "And the other thing in the note, the address..." "It's probably an old warehouse or factory, if I'm right." "So a place to practice." Nick nodded. Yes, it would be a place to practice. They hadn't much after the incident at Natalie's apartment building, although admittedly it had only been a few days. He also wanted her to really test out the other sword, see if she felt it was better or not. He had a feeling she wouldn't be able to get a good idea--William Carver's sword was a fair bit heavier and longer than the sabers they had been practicing with. While fine for him, he knew Natalie felt sore and tired after they practiced as it was. The heavier sword would probably cut that short. Natalie wasn't immune to exhaustion, but it also meant she could get stronger...or weaker. The last was far more noticeable to him, and his mood dropped a little. With the relative assurance that LaCroix would not be there for the day, he knew how the morning would go, what they would do. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Come on, Nick, switch swords with me," Natalie said as Nick came at her again, smiling. She stopped his blade, but stumbled, and hers--Carver's--scraped the ground, sending a few sparks up before she managed to lift it up again. "Stop grinning. This isn't funny or fun or...whatever." "It's not supposed to be." "I know it's not, but it'd be easier if we switched. Please? We've been trying this for over a month. Six weeks, Nick." "And you've gotten stronger from using it. A lot stronger." "Maybe, but it's just not going to work. I need to learn how to use a sword, not...this. If we don't switch, I think I'm done for the day. I'm serious, Nick." Natalie, however, had to block him again, and while she managed it, he came from the other side right after and she lost her grip and went spinning. She fully expected to slam into the concrete, but found herself caught around the waist. "See what I mean? I'm about ready to fall over just standing here, forget trying to defend myself." "I'm sorry, Nat, I just...you're getting better, a lot better, and--" "And I'm still dead if I were really fighting for my life. I know it." She tried to shrug out of his hold, but his grip didn't loosen and she merely stumbled. "You're not assuredly dead, Natalie. If someone gets past me, they'll probably underestimate you. And I won't let that happen." He kissed her behind the ear. "How about we switch, or do you want to take a break?" "A break sounds good. Definitely time for a break." "Home or out?" "Out. I want to try that little cafe we keep driving by," she said and looked back over her shoulder with a smile. "Now loosen that grip of yours, at least for a moment." Once he did, she retrieved the dropped sword, which she then handed to Nick. "Drive or fly?" he asked as they started back in the general direction of the car LaCroix had obtained, which meant toward the stairs that took them down to street level. "Drive," Natalie answered, as they headed out. "You know that will take longer." "Yeah, but you're driving," she said with a smile. "And it'll make for a longer break." "You could drive if you wanted." "Oh no...no, no. I've seen the way these people drive and I don't quite get the whole five, six, seven streets more or less converging in a single intersection. You can drive. One survival skill at a time, please." She turned and caught a smile from Nick, and her smile widened. He had been smiling more the last week or so--so had she, for that matter--and while what happened hadn't been forgotten, they were dealing with everything much better. They had had to park the car a bit away from the entrance, and as they exited, Nick put his arm around her. For a few short seconds she thought of nothing else but his gentle guiding, then she winced and came to an abrupt halt. No, not now. "Nat?" "Let's just get to the car," she whispered and started forward again, breaking away from Nick. Next thing she knew someone pulled her back--Nick--and then a man stepped out from a shadow and into the open right in front of them, his sword glistening in the bright moonlight. Unlike the man they had run into in Toronto, Natalie had the impression the other was almost a teenager. The leather jacket, his thinness, and his long-ish, dark curly hair didn't help. She would have guessed him for a vampire if not for the sword. Sometime as she stared, Nick had shifted the saber so that it was behind his back...and in front of her. "Take it, Nat, just in case." "Nick..." she whispered back, not at all sure she should take it, but as he pushed it further behind him, she reluctantly did. "You're not one of us," the young man said, pointing his sword up at Nick. Then he tilted his head to the side slightly. "Or are you?" "No, I'm not." "You her protector?" "Maybe. And what are you?" "Older than I look. Much older." "I know better than to rely on appearances." "Good. Now why don't you leave us to deal with this?" said the young man. "Why can't we just talk?" "Talking is boring. And it's a waste of time." Natalie took a step back as the man tried to skirt around Nick, who stopped the other man with his sword. "Leave or die," Nick said. "So you *are* her protector. A foolish mortal." He snorted. "I kill you, then her. That's fine with me." And with that, the young-looking man attacked without even saying his name. Natalie felt different this time. This Immortal didn't really care about fighting with Nick; he just wanted to disable him and get to her. Nick seemed to be far more on the defensive this time, and she could tell he was using what he was more. While young-looking, this Immortal definitely knew what he was doing. He somehow managed to spin Nick face-first into the side of the building, then Natalie gasped when the young man's sword stabbed right into Nick, who collapsed first to his knees and then to the ground once the other man removed the sword. Then he came at her, and she raised the saber in fright. "This is almost too easy, my dear. Your lover shouldn't have interfered with our fight. He...was your lover, wasn't he?" Natalie just tensed, her eyes switching between the young man and Nick, who at first didn't seem to be moving. Then he sat up as if waking from sleep, changed like the first time she had seen him wake from death, and her muscles relaxed while she backed away. "Don't run. It'll be easier if you don't run." "I'm not running. Just staying out of my friend's way." She looked at Nick again, causing her opponent to turn. "I killed you!" "You only thought you did," Nick said, his fangs visible. "What the hell? What are you?" "I thought you didn't want to talk," Nick stated, then he flew forward, pushing the Immortal to the ground, knocking the weapon from his hands. The man tried to attack him again, and he picked up the fallen sword. Next thing Natalie knew, Nick had swung the sword right at the panicked and still shocked man's neck. For a few silent moments she felt safe, felt relaxed, then she realized something was happening, something to do with the body...and her. "Nick... What's happening?" she asked, then screamed as something hit her. She tried to get to the ground, but couldn't, her muscles tensing, holding her in place beyond that she had fallen to her knees. It hurt as the energy or electricity, whatever flowed around her and into her hit her, and she could vaguely hear Nick yelling her name, but barely. She didn't know how long it went on, but eventually it stopped and Nick caught her before she collapsed. "Natalie? Nat, are you--" "W-what happened?" Then she noticed he looked worse than he had a few moments ago, tired. He had tried to get to her. "Nick?" "The sword hurt more. I'm fine. I'm more worried about you." "I feel...I don't know. I'm tired and I hurt a bit, but some of the rest is more like I imagine drinking blood for you to be like. Sort of. Maybe," she muttered, looking down at her own clothes. No worse than they had been when they were practicing beyond the dirt at her knees. She still had the sword in her hand, too, somehow. "I really don't know how I feel, Nick." "Go back to the car. I'll deal with the body." She felt ill at that statement. The body. They had killed someone. "Nick..." She found the sword he had picked up, the one dropped by their unnamed opponent, pressed into her hands. "Wait in the car. Lock it when I leave." Now he handed her the keys. "In case you need to leave. I'll find you if you can't or don't want to stay here." At first she just stared blankly forward, not able to move even as he pulled her into a quick embrace, gave her a kiss on her forehead, and walked away trying to give her a smile. Only once he seemed to be waiting for her to do as asked did she finally move and head back to the car, where she watched from a distance as Nick first left, then returned with what was probably a tarp from somewhere inside the building. Then he and the dead man vanished. Natalie locked the car's doors as soon as Nick had left, then ended up jumping when he knocked on the driver's side door upon his return several minutes later. She let him in, then he presented her with another sword--the one they had taken from Carver in Toronto. She had forgotten Nick had left that where he had fallen. Taking it, she silently put it with the others. "Nat--" "Just drive us back home. I don't want to talk or think right now." "LaCroix didn't say anything about--" "Nick, just...let's talk about this later. Please." She turned to look out the window as he started the car up. He didn't try to talk to her any more, which she was grateful for, and they started back to the house. Nick drove back a bit quicker than he had before, and he seemed rather more focused once she looked over at him. It took a bit less time to get back than it had to get there. Once inside, she zoned in on LaCroix, who seemed to be waiting for them. He was simply standing there, in the entryway. She hadn't seen him for weeks, and now here he was, tonight of all nights. Without warning she started at him with the newly obtained sword, stabbing it right at him. He moved at the last moment, resulting in the blade embedding itself into the wall. Then she felt hands pull her back, which she tried to shrug off. "Let me go, Nick, so I can kill him! I don't care if it is temporary!" "I did not know anything would happen!" "You were watching us," Nick stated, pulling Natalie back and moving in front of her. "Of course, Nicholas." "Did you know we would run into that man, that Immortal?" "No." "You picked where we trained, LaCroix!" Nick said, moving forward, closer to the other man. "I did not know! I would not have intentionally endangered--" Nick shoved his sire back. "Yes you would have. You've endangered my life for your games before, and Natalie--" "Natalie is now, in a way, part of our family--my family." "She is not connected to you, LaCroix." "She is as much mine as Janette is...your lover, your...daughter, and you are mine." Natalie stiffened at the exchange, and she saw Nick do the same. LaCroix was dragging Janette into their argument. "Is there anything you haven't told us?" she asked, stepping forward. "Not about what you are. I was as surprised as you were by what happened. At least it explains why your kind might want to kill one another." "Which is?" "There appears to be some sort of transfer...of what, you'll have to wait to find out." "What else haven't you told us, LaCroix? Where have you been staying? Clearly you've been here in Paris, watching us." "I was staying with...family." "Janette's here in Paris," Natalie guessed. "Yes. She is not thrilled by my presence. I believe that after today I should stay here." "Does she know about me? About what happened?" Natalie asked. "No. She is unaware you are here. As she does not wish to see Nicholas, she will unlikely come anywhere near here. She also knows nothing of Immortals. For now, anyway." "Where is she?" Nick asked. "I will leave the address with Natalie later this morning. Again, Janette does not wish to see you...nor me, for that matter. It would be unwise to go there unless it is an emergency...for a variety of reasons." Nick finally let go of LaCroix, then he turned around and his gaze locked with Natalie's. "May I ask your plans?" LaCroix asked, still standing against the wall. "Well, we're not going back there to practice," she told him. "No, we're not," Nick said in agreement. "Even if the problem is apparently eliminated and it was likely chance that you met that man?" LaCroix asked. "We're not going back there," he stated coldly. "Are you staying in Paris to wait for that Immortal to return?" "I don't know, LaCroix. Maybe. Probably. But there are other things we can do." "Ah, yes, home is so close..." LaCroix said with a smirk to Natalie, then he walked off almost laughing. She pursed her lips for a moment, then asked Nick, "Do you think you could hold him still long enough for me to wipe that smirk off his face?" "Probably not." "He'd probably fall unconscious still laughing," Natalie muttered. She almost added something else--that LaCroix was probably pleased that Nick had killed that night, regardless of how--but knew he didn't need reminded about that. Even LaCroix had seemed to be a bit less blunt than she would have expected regarding that subject. "Come on, Nick, let's...I don't know, can we just sit on the bed or something?" "I'll-- Go on up, Nat. I need to get something, first." Natalie saw him try to smile, but she knew he was forcing it. He needed to go to the kitchen for blood...and who knows what else. The kitchen was where LaCroix had disappeared to, she suspected. When Nick didn't start on up, she went on her own. Reaching the bedroom, she realized she still had the swords. Well, two of them--the third was still stuck in the wall down on the first floor. She set the weapons on the floor and pulled off her coat and shoes. Then she curled up at the head of the bed and waited for Nick. Like before, she didn't want to be alone. Long before she felt tempted to check on him he came up, a bottle and an empty glass in his hands. "Do you think he's right, Nick?" she asked as he set the items down and sat on the bed. "That whatever happened after you--that that is why my kind kill each other?" "Yes." "What did it look like to you?" "Lightning. But not like regular lightning. Energy of some kind." "And it didn't hurt me, not really. Not--" "I flew at you, tried to pull you down. I guess I got in the way. It didn't...kill me or anything like that. It didn't feel like lightning, but similar." "Does that mean--" "A lightning strike won't kill a vampire, just sunlight and fire." "And decapitation," she added as a reminder. "But I mean you've actually been hit, then?" "Once, a long time ago. Hopefully never again." "And you still tried to pull me away from it?" "I knew it wasn't normal lightning, real lightning. Even if it was, I knew it wouldn't kill me." Natalie watched Nick get quieter, then he took the bottle and filled the glass full. She wanted to ask about whatever memory she had just dredged up, but the present worried her more than the past. "How are you doing with what you did?" Now he froze, setting the bottle down. Even that alone gave her some sort of an answer. "I know you haven't more or less killed and then covered it up for a while, and I'm sure that must--" "Yes, it brings back other memories. And I don't know how I'm doing with it." "And I suppose you saw how I'm dealing with it. That was...stupid, wasn't it? Going at LaCroix with the sword." "If you hadn't, I probably would have, and even with what you did, he didn't seem to be in any worse a mood than usual. Worst case we have to repair the wall." Natalie pursed her lips again as Nick took a sip from the glass. There was something else that was probably bothering him. "You want to see her, don't you? Janette." "I want to know how mad she is about what I did now that things have settled a little." "Until she finds out what I am." "Although now we all have something in common. We've all wanted, been ready for death, and didn't get it. Except for LaCroix." Natalie tensed when Nick nearly laughed. He was still struggling more with this than she was. When he had woken on her table, she had been open to the idea that more than just humans--normal humans--could exist, and that open mindedness is what she felt helped her now. Nick, on the other hand, had been a vampire for eight centuries and had seen little sign of anything else. He wasn't used to the idea of there being something new--something new like what she was. "I think LaCroix is right in that we should only go there if absolutely necessary. When he gives you the address...don't show it to me and don't tell me where you put it. Better yet, memorize it and burn it. I don't want to be tempted." "Nick..." "To all be together in the same city so soon after... She came here to get away from not just me, Nat." He took his glass, downed it, then stood. "I'm going to take a shower, change." She wanted to stop him, but there wasn't anything she could say to make him feel better. She knew what he had alluded to--by bringing Janette back across, he had freed her from LaCroix. She faintly wondered how LaCroix had managed to get her to let him stay with her; did he actually have to be nice to her, perhaps have to ask multiple times, beg even? She would have liked to see that, see what excuse he had given her. Natalie also remembered what LaCroix had said about 'home'. She had suspected that was in Nick's plans--to show her where he had grown up, or as close to it as he could--but she kept expecting that would be somehow put off. She hoped this continual running would eventually stop, even if she knew they'd come back. Nick had obtained Duncan MacLeod's other address, which they both weren't too thrilled about. It was in Washington state...the opposite side of the continent from Toronto. That was a long way to travel to talk to someone, especially as she had been starting to like the idea of staying there in Paris, perhaps...at least until tonight. Future Tense - (18/36) A couple of weeks later, they abruptly left Paris and Nick took them to his original home. There hadn't been much to show her beyond what remained of the foundation and a wild rose garden of sorts that turned out to be a graveyard. That had been strange. Some of the gravestones had been redone at some point, namely that of Nick's sister, and it hadn't been easy to get to. The roses brought back her memories of the bouquet she had thought Nick had got her--but it had been LaCroix, it had to have been LaCroix. While there, Nick explained more behind that, more of what happened. His mood had dropped visibly the short time they visited. They only stayed a few days in the area, and they hadn't revisited the strange graveyard before driving to London, their real destination. That was a whole different experience. They still had LaCroix' rental--lease, really--although she felt a little weird once they had reached England being a passenger on the wrong side of the car. At least Nick didn't seem to mind driving. Nick's place in London turned out to be a smaller, narrower version of LaCroix' apartment in Paris. It was also only three stories, and Nick didn't own the building it was in. Despite that, the rooms themselves were still rather large. Wood floors, even wood walls in many of the rooms. The apartment had also been much dustier, like the whole home was one big attic, and initially she thought it hadn't been updated for a while. After looking around, she guessed it had probably been updated at least a little about twenty years before--the kitchen and bathrooms--but the bulk of the home remained untouched. She didn't want to know how old the wiring was. The very first thing they had done was clean. Not Natalie's idea of fun, but as they had decided to stay there, and more than a couple of days, it was necessary. The cleaning was more extensive and not just moving furniture or putting up drapes like it had been at LaCroix'. It was even worse than cleaning out her apartment. It did go quickly, however, at least in the areas they started with. And unlike LaCroix' home--which had, in her opinion, far too many windows and too much light given the owner was a vampire--Nick had plenty of drapes, even if they were infested with dust and who knows what else. After getting something to eat their first full night there, Natalie watched Nick go through any stored items. She tagged along and, seeing a sword as Nick was going through a chest, she stuffed what remained of her meal into her mouth and approached closer. She forced the last bite down and asked, "Is that what you've been looking for?" "Yes," he said, pulling out the simple sword. To Natalie, it looked a lot like what she thought of as a crusader's sword, and she asked, "Is that yours? As in your original--" "No, I lost that one before I had returned home...well before I had become a vampire. It's similar, but it's not the same sword." Natalie watched him turn it and hand it hilt first toward her. Somewhat reluctantly she took it. It felt similar to the sword they had obtained from the unnamed Immortal that had picked the fight with them in Paris. She knew right away that this would be another they'd actually use; unless Nick kept using Carver's sword, which he liked more than the saber, but thought it a bit unwieldy. "You know...I'm starting to think we should have left the saber back at LaCroix'. Or even back in Toronto...we have four swords now with this one. Five if you count the other saber." "More to practice with." "Yeah, but neither of us like the sabers and--" "And then there's Carver's sword, which--" "Which we also don't like very much." "Are you saying you like this one?" Natalie hesitated, looking down at it. The room they were in was too small to really do anything with the sword, but just holding it... "Maybe. I think I need to actually try it, though. And it'll work fine, won't it? I mean it's been in storage for who knows how long..." "A while, and it'll be fine...although as you said we should test it before really using it. And clean it." "And do you have an idea where we could do that?" Natalie asked and caught a smile. "Yes, but first..." "More sightseeing?" "Which will come after we finish cleaning this place up. It needs it, and we're here for the moment...and then, yes, either sightseeing or practice...probably the latter." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Natalie had had more fun in London than they had in Paris, mainly because they had done more actual sightseeing; Nick hadn't been as tense, either. Perhaps he didn't have as many bad memories of London? They also hadn't just stayed in London the whole time. He had taken them out to Stonehenge one night, which had been amazing just thinking how old it could be--older than LaCroix, for one. Nick's old sword quickly became her favorite. She liked it even more than the one they had retrieved from the unnamed Immortal, and it held up to their practice sessions just fine. Like in Paris, they had found an abandoned building to practice in, and this time they were undisturbed. They also didn't take a car, so nothing to tip others off that someone was inside beyond the noise if one got close enough. She felt freer in London as well. Nick didn't hesitate when she wanted to go somewhere--whether to eat or just walk--and after having been there over a month, on one of those walks she decided to ask what she had wondered almost since their arrival and started, "You seem happier here, more relaxed... Does Paris hold more bad memories, or--" Nick immediately shook his head. "No, it's not that; more things probably went wrong here than there, actually." "But Paris is where you became a vampire, where you met LaCroix and Janette." "Yes, but it's not necessarily which has more good or bad memories." "So why--" "It might just be from being away from LaCroix. We haven't been away from him since the night we quit our jobs...I always feel happier, more relaxed when he's not around." "And then what happened to me." "It's..." Natalie watched as Nick paused, seemingly trying to form his thoughts, and waited knowing he'd answer. "It's more than that. While he was there in Toronto before, he wasn't..." "Right there?" Natalie asked. "Exactly. It's different when he's living with me." "And now with us," Natalie added. "Yes, and then knowing Janette is there..." Natalie didn't say anything as Nick trailed off. She already knew why that bothered Nick; in truth it bothered her a little, too, but because Nick had made a mortal-by-luck Janette back into a vampire--very possibly against her wishes if what Nick told her had been true--and yet he was always so hesitant when it came to her. He hadn't even tried to give her his blood after he had drained her, although he might not have even been able to bring her across with what she was. It didn't really matter, but it bothered her a little that he hadn't even tried. "Have you thought any about what you might want to do after we find MacLeod?" "You mean after we find out what I am and the details we're missing?" "Yes. Do you want to work or travel or..." "I have no idea, Nick. Absolutely no idea. I think any thoughts on that need to wait. Things could change a lot between now and...whenever. And we might want to know if we'll be having a guest tagging along first, too." "He'll tag along one way or another." "He isn't now. Or is that why we've stayed here so long? Why you're so happy?" he asked, shoving him a little. Nick smiled a little. "Maybe." "So we just wait for--" Natalie cut off and shut her eyes, then muttered, "Damn it." When Nick stopped walking, she tried to prod him along, but like in Paris they had been walking toward the other Immortal, and in a couple of seconds she could make out a slightly older man walking toward them, who looked a little guarded. Maybe this time would be good? They could just walk away... "It was such a nice night for a walk, wasn't it?" the man said and his mood became darker. "It still can be," Nick said, and started pushing Natalie off toward one side down an alley. "You're not English...or British for that matter." "No, I'm not," Nick again answered, then spun and pushed Natalie behind him. "And your friend? Does she speak?" "We're Canadian," she answered after turning to see a sword pointed at Nick. "And what are you doing here?" "Maybe we're on vacation?" Nick said. The man narrowed his eyes, looking them over. Natalie felt uncomfortable as the man looked at where Nick had her hand in his...and his in hers. "It's you, isn't it?" the man asked of Natalie. "Or are you just worried I'll hurt your mortal lover?" he then asked of Nick. "Walk away," Nick said in reply. "Why? It's not often I meet a mortal who knows of us. Although..." The man again focused on Natalie, looking at her coat. "It is her. Who is she to you? Your wife? Girlfriend? Does she even know how to fight? Do either of you?" Natalie tried to pull Nick back at the strange excitement she suddenly saw in the other Immortal's features, but he stayed right where he was. "Walk away; I'll kill you if I have to," Nick said, holding his place. "Have you had to? She's brand new, isn't she? Does she even know what she is?" "Yes, I've killed one of you," he answered. "And yes, she knows what she is." "How long since she first died? Weeks? Months? Definitely no more than a year...she's lucky to be alive...for now." "Please, let's just walk away from this," Nick tried again. "No. I'm sorry, but this is too tempting. If you have a sword, I suggest you draw it." Nick did as suggested, but he backed away from the other Immortal, keeping Natalie behind him. "If you fight me, I won't let you walk away." "So you keep saying. You'll forgive me if I don't believe you. And I'd rather fight her...one less step. I don't suppose you'd step aside?" the man asked, pointing his sword more at Natalie now than Nick. "No." "Well then...be a good girl and stay out of our way...but don't run; you'll be next," he said, continuing to look at Natalie. Then he turned back to Nick with a sigh, "I suppose it's only proper that I tell you who is about to kill you...my name is Mason Holt. Not that it will do you any good." "Nicolas de Brabant," Nick said. Natalie tensed as Nick said his name, his mortal name, and how he said it. Then she backed away further at the smirk plastered on the other Immortal's features. The man suddenly reminded her of LaCroix, rather than the almost friendly man she had initially seen. "You might not be one of us, but you are as arrogant as many." "You're the one who's arrogant...you're only fighting me because you think you're going to take down easy prey." Holt visibly angered and went on the offensive, striking at Nick...and was easily blocked. Natalie strongly felt that this fight was different; Nick was as good as his opponent, far more evenly matched than the other fights had been. Granted, she suspected Nick used what he was, but she couldn't visibly tell when he did and when he didn't. Even the way he fought, Holt reminded her of LaCroix. All force and, as Nick had put it, a sort of arrogance. Maybe that's why he did better tonight than the other two times he had been forced to fight? This opponent fought and acted the closest to one of his training partners. Unfortunately, the other Immortal also knew a few tricks and tried to disarm Nick...and almost succeeded. He kept hold of his sword, but unwillingly spun and fell. Natalie took a couple of steps forward only for the Immortal to raise his sword in her direction in anger. "While I would have rather fought you first, your friend and I will finish this properly. Until then, you can't interfere." She felt a little confused at that. She can't interfere while they're fighting? Can't? Why couldn't she? It's not like anyone was there to stop her... While she thought about that and with what Holt said, Nick had more than enough time to get to his feet again. A few minutes later the Immortal tried the trick again, but this time Nick had been prepared, had perhaps seen it coming. Rather than losing either his sword or his balance, somehow Nick managed to use it to disarm his opponent. The Immortal almost smirked, but it was weak. He had lost and knew it, perhaps was wishing he had listened. "I told you to walk away," Nick said as he approached, his sword up to the other man's neck. Holt slowly raised his arms to the side, almost as if in surrender. "I suppose you're not as arrogant as I thought. You're much better with a sword than any mortal I've met in the two centuries I've lived." "Because I'm not a mortal," Nick told the other, moving closer, letting the blade ever so lightly run across the other's throat. "I first touched a sword such as this nearly eight hundred years ago." The Immortal's eyes widened at that. "So you weren't lying when you said you'd kill me?" "No." Mason Holt sank to his knees, arms still held wide, and closed his eyes to wait. Natalie shut her eyes the moment she saw Nick bring the sword back, then kept them shut as she waited. Future Tense - (19/36) "Anything interesting happen on your trip, Nicholas?" LaCroix asked two weeks later as they arrived back in Paris. Natalie had tensed at the question, although she supposed it was expected and didn't mean he had been watching them again. But it also didn't mean he hadn't been doing precisely that. "We ran into another Immortal," Nick stated. LaCroix didn't budge from where he sat in the bright breakfast area, turned slightly toward the windows. "And?" "And he's dead, obviously, since we're here." "Not like the first, I hope." "Not like the first," Nick repeated. LaCroix took a drink from the glass he held. "Did you find what you were looking for in London?" "How--" Natalie started, but cut off when Nick shot a glare at her. "I believe Nicholas wanted to find a sword of his," LaCroix replied to the unasked question. "Did you?" "Yes, I found it." "And?" "And Natalie's been practicing with it." "And how is that going?" "Fine," Natalie answered. "Better, actually." "We'll see." "But not right now, LaCroix," Nick said. "No, not right now...not tonight...but tomorrow night we shall see if she's learned anything. I haven't tested either of you since before we left Toronto...months ago." Natalie stared at LaCroix even as she heard Nick open the refrigerator door only to shut it immediately. A moment later a cupboard was opened, then another. Glancing toward Nick, she saw him pouring himself a glass of blood, then he left the bottle on the counter and started back toward her and the kitchen's exit. "Nat?" She finally tore her eyes fully from LaCroix and left the kitchen ahead of Nick. She headed up the stairs to their bedroom--assuming it was still their bedroom--as quickly as she could. Nick kept up, but just barely. "Has he changed anything?" Nick asked as she entered the room. Natalie's eyes scanned the bed, the windows, the other few pieces of furniture, and then she said, "No, I don't think so. I half-expected he'd take this room. It's bigger and has a better view. The bed is bigger, too." "I don't think he cares about any of that." "No, just if we can hurt one another...or that's what it'll be tomorrow night...and probably the next and the next." "Do you want to leave Paris?" "We can't," she reminded him. "We're waiting for--" "We could go to Washington. First we should at least check to see whether he's come back, but if he's not here, we could always go there." "No. No, no...I do actually kind of like it here," Natalie admitted. "We can wait here for MacLeod. Although to be honest, I'm starting to get a bit scared. All three Immortals we've run into have immediately wanted to kill me. What if this MacLeod is the same? What if he tries to--" She cut off when Nick took one of her hands. "It'll be fine. I won't let him hurt you, and if he's anything like Darius..." "I doubt MacLeod is a monk, a two-thousand year old one at that." Nick smiled. "Probably not, but if they were good friends, I don't think--" "Apparently LaCroix was a friend of Darius, and LaCroix seems to take great pleasure in killing me so he can watch me revive again, so I don't think being his friend means much. Sorry." "LaCroix won't kill you, Nat." "Maybe," she said and sighed. "I just feel like I don't know much of anything anymore." "Everything will make sense once we find someone who will actually talk to us." "But when?" "Soon, I hope. Now what do you want to do for the rest of the night?" Natalie forced herself to look up at Nick. He was trying to get her mind off things, but she knew it wouldn't work. "Well, I would like to just...I'd like to watch a movie or something, but we should practice some before--" "Then we'll go to a movie." "Nick..." "Come on, Nat, it's still early enough," he said as he tugged on her hand. She held back, half-wishing she hadn't said anything. She did like the idea of doing something, anything that was normal. After a few seconds she closed her eyes and let him pull her back out of the room. A movie would be normal...and it's not something they had done for a while. She just wished they could watch something there in the apartment rather than go out to do it. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Anyone there?" Natalie asked as they approached the lone barge on the river in Paris in early February, several months after their return to Paris. Nick couldn't sense anyone inside, and no cars were outside. Again. He shook his head and said, "No one's home." "Maybe he's not coming back, or not going to come back soon." "You mean you finally agree we should try to find him elsewhere? And that you're not mad we're going to do just that?" "I hate to say it, but...yes," Natalie admitted. "We've been here almost six months and I get the impression it had been some time since he was last here. Maybe that means he's coming back soon, but maybe it means he's not. Maybe he's made a permanent move. If it's been a few years he's been moving between here and there..." After a second, Nick started forward and onto the barge. "Nick? What are you doing?" He stopped, looked back at Natalie, and flashed her a smile. "Breaking in." "Breaking--" "Breaking in." He held his hand out for her, then caught a faint smile of her own. "Come on." He helped a reluctant Natalie up onto the barge, then he started for the door. "We better not get caught. Or worse, arrested or something." "We won't," he assured, then he rather easily got by the locked door. "You didn't break the lock, did you?" she whispered as Nick entered. "No. I think it would be better if he didn't know about this visit." "And if he has some sort of security--" "He doesn't. He doesn't seem to be paranoid about break-ins." "Hmm, you mean not like you." He turned sharply back at Natalie. "Or me, but I suppose that's a bit different. He doesn't have blood in his fridge. Or I hope he doesn't. And he probably doesn't have nosy friends and co-workers to keep out lest they discover his secrets. It's a lot easier to hide a sword than--" "Yourself," Nick answered, relaxing. "And less eccentricities that add questions, too." He pulled off a sheet to look at the furniture, but the sofa was pretty standard and he recovered it. "Well, he has some eccentric knickknacks. Kinda like you." He looked up and over at Natalie, who was examining a bookcase. "Anything interesting?" "A lot of history books." "On?" "Well, might be your past, by the looks of it." Nick spied a cover: The Crusades. He scanned others and most seemed to be pre-1600. "Not much of anything recent. Most of it is in English. What does that tell us?" "It tells us he's younger than I am, or that he probably is. Maybe three to five hundred, assuming most of the books are on events before his time." "Which is just a guess." "Exactly. It could be quite wrong." "This kind of looks like somewhere you might live. Well, other than this being a barge. I hope that's a good sign; in that hopefully he'll talk to us. So far every one of them we've met has tried to kill us--me, really, but..." Nick stiffened at that and turned his attention elsewhere in the room, his eyes drifting from one object to another. He did hope this one wouldn't be like the others--three so far, including the latest in London. He had made himself finish the task of cleaning up his home, even though some of what the Immortal said added more questions...and Natalie had wanted to stay and just do something normal before returning to Paris. She hadn't wanted to run. This last time had shook her more than the first. Moreover, it sounded as though only one on one fights were allowed the way Holt had warned Natalie back when he fell, told her not to interfere, that she *can't* interfere. More than ever he wanted to meet this MacLeod. He'd be able to explain this better, and hopefully he'd be willing. If not, they were out of leads. "Nick..." He turned, found Natalie standing still with her eyes closed, and guessed, "Someone's here." "I take back what I said about being caught. I hope it's MacLeod and not someone else." He hoped the same thing...or that it was a friend of this MacLeod. "Stay back, Natalie," he said and started for the door. "You know, you don't have to tell me that." Up on deck, Nick found a car outside and a man with silver hair. "Where's MacLeod?" "Not here," Nick answered. "If you're looking for him, get in line." Nick stiffened as he felt Natalie bump into his arm. By telling her to stay back he had hoped she might stay inside. "Did you lock the door?" he whispered. "Yeah." "Then just come with me," he said and slowly went to the edge of the barge and got down on the paved ground, then lifted Natalie down. Problem was in the time that had taken, the man had moved nearer, so Nick didn't have much time to turn Natalie then start guiding her in front of him away. "Are you a friend of MacLeod's?" "Why?" Nick asked, but didn't stop walking. "Because if you're not, I'll let you go, but if you are...just think, you might do your friend a favor." Nick stopped walking between the other's words and Natalie tugging back on him. "Nat--" "You want to kill him," Natalie said, pulling out of Nick's grip. "MacLeod." "Finally, you speak. And yes, I do. I very much do." "Why?" Nick asked. "Because our last meeting was interrupted, and I at least would like to finish it. I'm Gerald Ramsay." Nick turned and spun Natalie to lead her away again, then he heard a whisper behind him. "Shoot them if they leave." Nick came to a stop, his eyes drifting to the nearby car as another man got out with not a handgun, but a submachine gun. He had been so intent on getting them out of there he had missed it. This was different...and this would definitely count as interference as the one in London had put it. The gun made this an unfair fight...a very unfair fight regardless if he were mortal, an Immortal, or a vampire. Turning back he asked, "What do you want?" "Your names, or I should say her name; I want to know who I am about to kill." "You mean who you will try to kill," Nick corrected. "Then that would be me, not her." "And once you die, she dies. I want both of your names." Nick smiled at that, then said, "Nicolas de Brabant," just as he had to his last attacker, not hiding his old accent as he said his original, mortal name. "My friend's name is Natalie." "Natalie... Is she your wife?" "What do you care?" "I like to know the names of those I kill." "I've told you all I will, Gerald Ramsay...if that's even your name." The man chuckled a little at that. "It's not my real name, but it's been my choice of one for some time now." When the man rather casually pulled out a sword, Nick mirrored him. Over the past few weeks he had ended up settling on using the sword from the unnamed Immortal they had run into in Paris, since Natalie seemed to do the best and feel the most comfortable with the sword he had pulled out of storage. Ramsay's sword was a flashy Spanish rapier by his guess. It had an even more intricate hilt than the sabers, and the blade was long. True, Ramsay was tall and not at all lithe--more like an old CEO or king than a fencer--but Nick had a feeling that wouldn't matter. An Immortal either learned to use a sword and well, or they were dead. And Ramsay wasn't dead. "Nat, if anything happens, go to that address," he said, not wanting to mention Janette's name. "She won't be able to go anywhere. You might present yourself as one of us, de Brabant, but she is who I want, not you. My acquaintance will not allow her to leave, whether she flees as you distract me or she flees after I kill you. He will shoot her and then I will kill her." "That wouldn't be fair," Nick stated, narrowing his eyes. "Then your friend better not run. She'll have a better chance." Nick looked toward Natalie, but to him he felt the only way out they had was to run--or fly as the case may be. But he couldn't do that with both of them there, plus they were out in the open. He didn't like any of this. Where was LaCroix when his interference could be useful? "Do I have your word you won't shoot her?" Ramsay grinned. "I don't think I'll need to shoot her, will I?" He tensed, but right then the other bowed slightly. He had no more time for thinking or trying to talk their way out of this. It was fight or watch Ramsay kill Natalie. After they started, Nick felt fairly good--he was winning, having inflicted several wounds--until Ramsay started backing away from him. Ramsay was limping badly from a wound to the back of his knee...but smiling. Nick realized why before he saw the signal, and he turned just as the man by Ramsay's car opened fire right at him. He saw a hint of Natalie's horror as bullets slammed into him and he fell. She'd have to fight, assuming she wasn't shot as well. He passed out, wondering if Natalie would be alive when he woke...or if he'd wake at all. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nick had no way of knowing exactly how much time had passed--seconds or minutes--before he woke. Probably minutes by his guess, given he had a feeling he had at least one bullet Natalie would need to remove. Natalie... As he thought about that, he heard that wretched sound of the lightning, and he spun as he stood, panicked. His eyes snapped right onto Natalie. *Alive*. She had killed Ramsay. He felt relief at that, but also more panic and even confusion. Why hadn't Natalie been shot? Where was Ramsay's associate? He spun again, but couldn't see anyone offhand. The car was still parked where it had been, and he slowly turned again to face Natalie, where she fell back onto the pavement and just sat there, a couple feet from Ramsay's decapitated corpse. "Nat? Natalie!" he called, approaching, but she didn't budge. Once he came around in front of her, he saw her blank expression. He had to get her out of there, but there were other issues such as a decapitated body and the unknown location of the man who had shot him. "Come on, Nat," he whispered, reaching down and pulling her to her feet. She let him, but seemed rather zombie-like. Deciding LaCroix could deal with the mess--he was there watching, somewhere, probably was the cause of the other man's disappearance--he lifted her off the ground and into his arms. "Nick--" "I'll take you home." "Nick...no. No, we need to--" "We don't have to do anything, Nat." "There's the flights and--" "We can get a new flight." "I think LaCroix killed--" "Shh, he can deal with this then," he said, then turned them away from Ramsay's body and the barge. "Nick, please, put me down." Torn, at first he didn't and just looked down at her. Then he gently did as asked. "Deal with...my mess, and I'll see what happened to the guy who shot you." When she tried to pull away, he held her in place. "Nick...I want to at least see if he's dead or not, and it won't take much longer for you to... Please, so we can get out of here." Reluctantly he let Natalie go, and he watched her walk slowly over to the vehicle until she was most of the way there. Then he began the task of disposing of the body. He ended up using the conveniently close by river, but did his best to ensure the death wouldn't point to the barge and its owner. The sword got tossed there, too. By then Natalie was watching him, and he walked back to the car where she shook her head. "His neck was broken." "I take it you weren't...shot." "No. I think it was the plan, though, eventually...assuming he didn't kill me first. I can't believe I just... He had no chance after what you did, not against someone uninjured. That, or he depends too much on having some kind of help. What about you? You were--" "I'll be okay." "But?" "But I'll need your help sometime to remove at least one of those bullets." Remembering she had mentioned their flights, he told her, "And that can wait if you still want to leave tonight. We have other reasons to avoid airport security." "And what about him?" Natalie asked, nodding down at the dead servant. "LaCroix can--" "Never mind." "You called, Nicholas?" He turned at the voice and found LaCroix standing there looking utterly pleased. "If you were going to kill him, you could have done so a minute or two sooner." "I would have been seen." "And I wouldn't have been shot two, three dozen times." "And things would have turned out differently, wouldn't they, Natalie?" Nick's anger flared at that. LaCroix had probably hoped Natalie would get the chance to kill--or be killed. "Will you--" "Of course." "The car, too. I don't want anything left here," he stated and watched LaCroix stiffen a little. "I'm sure you'll probably follow us, so I shouldn't have to tell you not to pester the owner of the barge if he returns. It's probably better if you're not seen." When his sire tensed further, he felt satisfied. LaCroix only reacted like that when he knew he was stuck doing something he really didn't want to...for whatever reason. Turning away, Nick took Natalie's hand and started to silently lead her away, toward an underpass. Just beyond that they could disappear. "Nick...if you don't want to leave tonight after this--" "I want to, just... I at least have killed before. It's hard that first time." "I killed LaCroix that one time." "But you knew he'd come back." "And I will have plenty of time to think about this, process this, on the trip across the Atlantic. Not sure sitting on a plane will be any worse than sitting with him probably watching us, watching my reaction. So we'll go?" "If we can make it." "Hmm, yes, you need a new shirt...and a new coat, for that matter." "I'll take LaCroix' coat. He wasn't wearing one, which means it's back at home. That'll solve that," he said with a smile as they reached seclusion, and he pulled her close so that he could take off with her. Future Tense - (20/36) "Nick--" "I know--someone is nearby, somewhere they shouldn't be," he said darkly after seeing an unfamiliar car, and he headed inside. He didn't even bother with the security system--it had, at some point, been disabled. He saw Natalie stiffen as they approached the elevator. The intruder was another Immortal, and likely inside. Nick had a guess as to who waited for them--William Carver. He had, after all, found Natalie's home, something that would have taken time. It wouldn't be too much of a jump to figure out her friend's identity...and where he lived. "Are we really going to just go in via the elevator? Is this, I don't know, wise?" "I want whoever this is out. And no, it's not the best approach, but I don't want to tip them off that I'm not human, not mortal." After they stepped in and started the elevator up, Nick pulled out the confiscated sword he had stuck with and closed his eyes. As the freight stopped, he smiled and let his guard down a little. His uninvited guest was calm and well into the loft. He let the sword's point almost touch the ground as he pushed the door to the side and entered his home. There, across the room, in the piece of his furniture he most associated with LaCroix, sat the first Immortal they had met months ago. He held one of the sabers, just like he had then. "I had hoped you would come back soon. It has gotten mighty boring waiting here...even if you, Detective Knight, have quite an extensive early movie collection." "I'm not a detective any longer." "Ah, yes, you both quit...even before we met the first time." Nick stepped a little closer, but stayed well back. He quickly scanned the loft, but for the most part everything seemed to be in its place despite that William Carver had been living or at minimum spending a large amount of time there for however long...days, weeks, or even months were all quite possible. "And as beautiful as this sword may be...I'd like mine back. I see you've found another sword for yourself. And you've recovered...apparently. I'm pleased to see I didn't permanently injure you." "Your sword back could be a problem," Nick said, almost smiling. "See, it's on another continent... And no, I wasn't permanently wounded." "Good. I see your girlfriend or whatever she is is still alive... I took you for the old-fashioned, chivalrous type, but your home tells a different story. One bedroom. Her clothes in your closet. No wedding pictures--in fact very few pictures of either of you at all--and while I can't see her hands, I can see you don't have a ring... Granted, times are different now, but looking at your things, Detective...I'd have pegged you for the Immortal, not her. But you're not." Nick could hear the near confusion in the other's voice. Carver had come across something, perhaps. In truth, he could have probably easily figured out what, exactly, he was. He carefully replied, "No, I'm not like you. I'm not an Immortal." "She first died around when you both quit your jobs, I'd guess, and I was the first you'd met, wasn't I? Yet you were prepared. Where did you learn to use a sword?" Nick smiled. "College fencing class." "I don't think so." "I thought you didn't like to drag things out?" "Usually, I don't. But this is different... You two are different. How old are you Detective Knight? And what are you?" Nick tried not to visibly stiffen. Yes, Carver had gone digging. "You bought that Cadillac new, didn't you? Excellent condition, regardless." Now Nick tensed. While he had cleaned out the glove compartment when he had found out Tracy knew about vampires--his previous partner had found an old driver's license of his in there--those papers were still there in his loft. He watched Carver stand and start across...to the refrigerator. "It's a habit of us immortals...to hold on to things." Carver pulled open the refrigerator doors and pulled out a green-glass bottle. "And this..." Nick inwardly cursed. LaCroix didn't clear out the bottles of blood before he had left. "Well, at first I thought it was wine, but no wine flows like this... Blood. A curious thing to have around." Carver turned and carried it back, where he then purposely dropped it. The sweet if stale scent of blood flooded Nick's senses as the bottle shattered, and he involuntarily took a step back. "Curious. I had thought your kind were a myth, perhaps even some amalgam of my kind's immortality and the mortals' fears of demons with a few weaknesses thrown in. This place is a virtual fortress. So how old are you, vampire? At least a couple hundred, since you know how to use a sword." "How old are you?" Natalie asked. "Thirty-three going on three-fifty." Nick smiled at the other's almost arrogant answer. "Die during the plague by chance?" he asked and the other's good mood faltered. The guess must have been close. "Did you think I would be younger than you?" "Older, then." "By more than double. Go home, find some other target." "No. I want to see what happens when I cut off your head. By rumor your kind will die by beheading as well. That's true, isn't it? When you compare vampires to Immortals...you got the short stick by far. Can't eat normal food, can't go out during the day, probably can't even go into a church, can you?" "It's not as good of a deal as it seems on the surface, no," Nick admitted, hoping to avoid the other man's inconsistencies. Carver was relying on myth a little too much and didn't realize there were other perks to living forever. Then he decided to try and push the other man; he wanted this over with. "And at least I had a choice to become what I am. You didn't have that. Your only possible choice is when to risk the possibility of dying. You either fight or give up. Or try to run." "True, but your kind is probably used to running...just like you did with me. You tried to run, and then rather than kill me--something you could have easily done, I might add--you just left. I want to finish our fight." "Then we'll finish it," Nick answered and watched Carver start to raise the saber. "Outside." He pointed his sword toward the elevator and the door next to it. "Take the stairs down." "What's to say you won't kill me as soon as I step through the door and turn my back?" "What's to say you won't do the same when I exit the stairwell?" he countered and he got a smile as well as the other to start moving. He kept facing Carver, then remained still as the other backed up toward the stairwell door. "Nat--" "I didn't even get a chance to--" "Shh, I'll be fine," he whispered back not wanting Carver to hear the rest of her sentence. She hadn't yet removed the couple bullets that hadn't passed through him. They shouldn't hinder him, or he hoped they wouldn't. "Just..." He hesitated, knowing Natalie wasn't about to wall herself in. If she did, she wouldn't be able to see him, see if something had happened. "Don't get too close." "Nick, he knows--" "I know," he whispered back at her panic. Carver knew what he was before they had arrived. Who knows what the Immortal had planned. While not all of the myths about vampires were true, enough were. Realizing he had already waited longer than necessary, he started forward and left. He would go a different way out, but didn't want Carver to come back up through the stairwell. Nick stepped cautiously down the stairs, but his senses told him the other man wasn't near the door. In fact, he wasn't even in the building, and Nick wasn't as cautious as he exited. Any nervousness vanished when he realized the Immortal was either running or moving to an adjacent street, and he cheated with a bit of speed, but kept not only out of sight but also to the ground. He didn't want to tip Carver off on anything vampires could do. Approaching a corner, Nick paused only a moment before rounding it--he could feel the other standing there, waiting. As expected, he had to immediately block a strike, but that had been easy. Too easy, and his opponent immediately backed away from him, grinning. The Immortal had some sort of plan, and Nick tensed as the other man reached into his jacket and pulled out a bag with a cloth in it, which he then cut open with the saber. Immediately Nick smelt garlic, and he had a hard time holding his position as Carver wiped the blade with the garlic-infused cloth. "Thought I'd make this a little more interesting. I had a feeling garlic would work, although does it just keep you away, is it an annoyance, or will it actually hurt you?" Nick started forward as Carver's grin widened. He wasn't about to answer--yes, garlic would actually hurt him. It burned and seared and just in general weakened vampires. Even the smell did the last. At first he managed to block the other, but either Carver had held back before or the smell was affecting him, as moments later he got his first slice with the poisoned blade to his arm. It didn't just sear, but stung more and burned more than he had expected. He knew his eyes had changed from the pain, but otherwise he forced himself to remain in control. "What hurts more, the garlic or the holy water?" Carver asked as he wiped the blade again. "I figured I'd use both in case one didn't work." Still a bit stunned, Nick barely moved out of the way for the next strike and he received a deep cut along one cheek. He backed away further at that, until he hit the building wall. He wasn't going to win this unless he used what he was, really used what he was, and then he had to pick the right time. He couldn't underestimate Carver. He also wanted the burning pain to stop, and he tried to wipe the new wound. The stinging feeling spread with his action, and as Carver moved toward him, wiping the blade with the wet cloth once more, Nick backed away along the brick wall. When the Immortal attacked again, he wasn't entirely ready. He almost lost hold of his sword and felt thankful when Carver merely stabbed him. Like before, it had been in the shoulder. Nick managed to back away and watched the other man just smile. He was being played with. One more attack and he ended up disarmed. He didn't bother going for the fallen sword and just backed away, deeper down the alley. "Come on. Fight me!" "Are you sure that's what you really want?" Nick asked, barely holding back his fangs. "Pick it back up!" Carver ordered, pointing the saber down at the vampire's dropped one. He didn't take the bait, not even as the other man backed away from his sword. "That wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be a challenge," he said and took a slow step to the side, but also slightly closer to Carver, who was wiping the blade down once again. "You want to see if you can survive against a vampire, yes? You want to use me as prey. Why continue this charade? I would have gladly played by your kind's rules, but that's not what you want, is it? So we will play by mine. Or...are you unwilling to fight an unarmed opponent?" "I don't have a problem with it," he answered, raising the saber again and smiling. Nick continued to slightly circle and approach Carver, letting his fangs show. He wasn't going to hold back what he was any longer. His appearance didn't seem to bother or surprise the other man, and he used a little bit of his speed--just a little--to duck a blow. He managed to push Carver off balance, but only after receiving another slice to one arm. While he could have disarmed the younger man right then, he didn't. If his opponent wanted to string him along, he could do that just as well. Nick repeated this several times, until Carver found a way to stop the quick attacks by stabbing into him. It wasn't as deep a wound as the first, and he managed to push away quickly, but the liquid on the blade still burnt as it seeped into his body. "Hurts, doesn't it?" Carver asked, backing up a little. Nick didn't reply as he stayed still, only half-pretending to prod at his latest wound. All of the little cuts were adding up, even though the few that weren't dosed with Carver's garlic mixture had healed or were healing. One more didn't hurt nearly as much as the first. Nick felt downright murderous, and it was time to end this. He rushed forward again, this time before he was attacked. In a split second, the saber lay on the ground. Other than disarm Carver--breaking the Immortal's arm in the process--Nick stopped the attack and moved back. "How does it feel to be the prey?" Nick asked as he slowly circled Carver. He could see the fear in the other man now, see his eyes dart toward the two fallen blades. "It's not the same without a sword, is it?" "You're not scaring me." "You should be scared." Then in a flash Carver went for the saber and he flew forward, twisting the other man's arm back and taking the sword for himself. He put the blade to the Immortal's neck, pressing the blade into his throat enough to draw blood and injure but not kill, not yet. When Nick let go, Carver sank to his knees, holding a hand up to his throat as he bled. "You shouldn't taunt what you don't understand," he said, dropping the saber again, this time well within Carver's reach. He walked around behind the other man, watching, waiting for the other to pick up the saber, and when the Immortal did, he flew forward and harshly grabbed the other, sinking his fangs into the other's neck. Carver screamed, or at least tried to, but Nick didn't stop feeding until the other had passed out. Then, barely thinking, rather than break the man's neck as was instinctual, he ended up twisting the man's head clear off, the earlier cut making this easier. He didn't fully realize what he had done until--for the second time in the last day--he watched the lightning-like energy disperse and then aim right for Natalie as she screamed his name and hurried forward. Horrified, he just staggered backward, where he fell to his knees and sank back to the asphalt. He had just done what he had feared he might, what he knew he could. He had lost control in the past, killing with more force than necessary--even decapitating his victims like this a couple of times--but not for centuries. Then, like now, he had done it of his own accord...without taunting or a set-up from LaCroix. He had told Natalie he had lost control before, but hadn't specified how, not in details. She probably thought it was something minor, something more like what she had periodically experienced or just him taking someone's blood or taking too much, something like that. Once he had wiped out a small village. He had only stopped after killing one of the children, not that any of the others had lived--LaCroix had killed the few he hadn't--but it had been enough to snap him out of what he had done. That wouldn't have happened this time. What if he hurt Natalie? He just sat there, zoned out, until he felt a warm hand on his face. Natalie. He pushed the comforting fingers away and tried to stand, but he stumbled. There she was again, steadying him, getting blood on her hands. He snatched his arms back out of her grasp and moved back, but she followed him. Again. "Shh, Nick. It's okay. Nothing else is--it's fine, it's over." He wanted to just walk off, but this time when she stopped him, she pulled him into an embrace. He didn't have the energy or desire to push her away again, and returned it, crossing his wrists behind her back. Carver's blood was now so close... "Nat...go inside. I'll be in as soon as..." "You need to get out of those clothes and take a shower. Even I can smell the garlic." "And holy water," he muttered. "He used both in case one didn't work." He slowly released Natalie, and she did the same. "I'll take a shower--after I deal with this. Go in, probably take a shower yourself...there's blood..." He gently touched her hair, not really adding more blood despite his bloody fingers. "I won't be long; you'll be fine for a couple of minutes. He was alone in the loft." He almost added that he wanted to be alone for a moment, but didn't; she probably knew that. "Just a few minutes, Nick. Don't go off--" "I won't wander off and come back five minutes after dawn." He looked down at his hands. "I...I won't be able to handle this for long." "I'll take a very quick shower, and then after you take one, I want to look at those wounds." Nick flinched back when she kissed him--on his uncut cheek rather than his lips only because he moved--then he watched her head back the way they had come, picking up first the saber and then his sword as she went. Once alone, he had to figure out how to get rid of the body, or more specifically he needed something to take it away with. He found a cloth tarp, then just stood there hovering over the body, torn off head, and spilled blood for a few minutes. He hated doing this. Even though it was more or less life or death--not only his, but Natalie's--and William Carver wasn't exactly an innocent, he didn't like that he had killed him. It didn't matter how, although that he had ripped the other man's head off with his bare hands didn't help. It also didn't matter that his wounds still smarted, but it was the stinging, stinking wounds that finally got him to move and dispose of the body...and then he'd have to burn the tarp, which now had his bloody fingerprints all over it. Future Tense - (21/36) After taking a shower and then cleaning up the broken glass and splattered blood from the bottle William Carver had dropped, Natalie started to worry. Nick hadn't yet returned. When he finally did, another fifteen minutes later, she immediately pushed him very carefully off toward the bathroom, telling him that she'd deal with his wounds after if needed. He had only gone after she offered to check the security tapes. That hadn't been too useful, since it wasn't even recording. Natalie had checked the doors at that, and found the locks broken in addition to the disabled keypad. That would be something to fix, and soon. At least the broken locks weren't too noticeable. Prodding the loft in general, she found that the refrigerator was completely empty--no blood for Nick beyond the one bottle Carver had dropped and no food for her--but as far as she could tell their belongings had been left untouched. Completely untouched. She did find a bag, but it contained very little--a couple of changes of clothes and more of whatever Nick had been poisoned with. When Natalie heard the water shut off, she pulled out her medical bag and gathered a few other supplies--a couple of bowls of water and washcloths--and took them back to the kitchen table. It wouldn't be the best lighting, but it would be good enough. When Nick finally came down, wearing his robe, her eyes went to the cut on his cheek. It hadn't healed yet, although it didn't look nearly as bad. "Well, sit down and I'll see what I can do." He sat in the chair nearest her, and she first just looked the slight wound over. It was somewhere between an open cut and a scar, but without any sort of scab...and it didn't look very happy, probably because of the garlic. Taking one of the washcloths, she dipped it in water and started dabbing at it, to try and get as much of the irritants off. Nick winced a little as the cloth brushed against his raw skin, and she asked, "Should I ask about the others?" "Probably not." "You will let me take care of those too, right?" she asked only half-teasing as she continued. Nick didn't answer her, and she remained serious as she finished with that cut, dousing it over and over with first one wet washcloth, then eventually with a second using fresh water once relatively satisfied it was as clean as it would get. "That feel any better?" "A bit." "Now, let me..." She reached for Nick's robe and pulled it off to the side, remembering where he had been stabbed. While she found it, she also caught part of a cut and pushed the smooth fabric to the side. It looked awful--far worse than the cut on his face--and she pushed the robe completely off. Not far above the waistband of his boxers was yet another stab wound. She supposed four bad ones was good--he had been cut more times than that--but it didn't make her feel any better. Natalie silently started working on the wounds. She could only do so much for the stab wounds short of more or less stabbing him again to reopen the wound, but as she worried that could do as much harm as good, she only focused on what she could see. Before getting to the last, the one on--through, really--his abdomen, he pulled away from her. "Nick..." "It's good enough. You don't have to do anything more." "It's not 'have to'." "And I'll be fine. It'll just take a little longer to heal." "You'll just be in pain longer, you mean," she said back, bringing a hand up to his face which she tried to turn to look at her. He jerked away and now stood, pulling the robe back on as he walked away. "At least let me deal with the bullets from Paris." "Please, Nat, not right now." "Let me guess, you feel you deserve it." "You saw what I did." "And?" "And? I killed him, Natalie! I fed from him and then decapitated him with my bare hands!" "And you're not the only one that killed today, in case you forgot," she snapped back. "But what I did was different. I lost control. I let what I was take over and--" "Carver forced it; he backed you into a corner knowing--probably hoping--instinct would kick in. It was a game to him. He underestimated what you were and he lost." She paused, noticing Nick had stopped walking away. "You did not lose control. Losing control would have involved going for me or some bystander." "It felt like losing control to me, Natalie," he said, spinning back to face her. "I could have killed him sooner, stopped it sooner. I stretched it out and I *enjoyed* it." "And you're beating yourself up for it now, so just...I don't know," Natalie said, walking toward him. "Whether you enjoyed it or not in the moment I don't think matters. I know you don't enjoy manipulating people like that. You know how bad it feels to be the one manipulated and wouldn't plan to put someone through that." She went right up to Nick and touched his face, but he tried to pull away again. "Shh, it's okay," she said, trying to sooth him. It worked in that he stopped trying to move away. "I know this is hard for you." "And you." "And me. But point is it's okay if it takes a few days or weeks or even months or years to sort through how you feel about what happened. I know I'm still...I've felt rather numb from the point you were shot in Paris on. And that's okay. It's perfectly normal to feel this way. But we can't blame ourselves any more than we can ignore it. Until we really know why, or what I am, I don't think we'll be able to satisfactorily understand this." "We need to find someone who will talk to us." "Which we're trying to do, Nick. And I don't know about you, but I don't want to be flying back and forth too often." "If he's not here, we go back to Paris and wait." "Unless he's left whatever life," she pointed out, worry slipping into the tone of her voice. "And I might be able to find that out." Natalie watched as Nick smiled. "You might? How?" "Maybe. I'm not sure. We'll find out when we take the sabers back." "We?" She felt a bit stunned. She knew LaCroix had obtained them from another vampire, but it wasn't someone she had ever met and she repeated, "We? I thought LaCroix--" "He already told me I was going to take them back. Merlin may or may not be useful...it depends how well we can reason with him. I've only met him a few times, but he's friendly enough. He won't hurt you." "I'm not too worried about that." She smiled a little, then sobered. "Before we say much else, as a bit of a warning the fridge is empty. I don't suppose you have any bottles hidden somewhere?" "No. Not for long before we left. It wouldn't be good, anyway." "Well, that'll be another thing we'll need." "And another thing Merlin might be able to help with--either blood or at least where to get it." Nick mirrored Natalie's touch, letting his fingers brush along her chin. "If we need to go out tonight--" "No, no, I think we can stay right here for the time being. There's plenty of stuff in the cupboards for me, I think. Or should be. Remember, I ate your in-flight meal in addition to mine. I'll be fine," she assured and neither of them spoke for a little bit. "We should see if we can find out what else Carver did to the loft, what else he moved or--" "Or got rid of. Granted, the food in the fridge probably went bad, so he probably did us a favor, but who knows what else he did. Nothing seemed out of place, and I did find a bag, but..." Nodding, Nick slowly pulled away and started scanning the loft just as Natalie had earlier. However tired they were, she knew they wouldn't be going to bed just yet. And, if she could, she was still going to deal with those bullets, first. If he'd let her. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Are you sure this is the right address?" Natalie asked as they walked up to a large house among others. "Yeah, it's the right house." "It looks more like...well, the house of a well off *family*. You know, kids and--" "It's the right house," Nick repeated with a smile as he guided Natalie toward the front doors, up steps onto a porch. He rang the doorbell, then let his eyes drift up to a camera hidden away in a corner under the porch's overhang. "He's probably already been alerted to our presence. Hopefully he'll answer with you here. I'm sure he knows you know about us, but I doubt he's used to being around non-vampires that know what he is...or had them show up at his home." They waited there for a moment before the sound of locks came from the other side of the door, then it opened to reveal Merlin--wearing a suit with a dark shirt and tie, looking ready to go to some meeting or the like. Merlin's eyes started on Nick, then settled firmly on Natalie. "May we come in?" "Might as well," Merlin said, stepping out of the way. Nick guided Natalie in with a hand on her back. "I hope you are alone, Nick," Merlin said after shutting the door and turning one of the locks. "It's just us. LaCroix is either still in Europe or on a plane." He leaned closer to Natalie. "Nat, the swords." Merlin quickly walked around his visitors, eyeing the sabers as Natalie pulled them out from under her coat. Taking them, he quickly looked them over, then smiled. "Excellent. I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever be getting these back. And I'm pleased it was you who returned them rather than him. He made quite a mess when he took them." "We're here for more than returning the swords," Nick said as he watched the other vampire walk into an adjoining room. He followed, keeping Natalie close as Merlin placed the swords on hooks on the wall above a mirror. He decided to start with the simplest, least alarming question, and he asked, "Has the Raven reopened?" "No, not as of yet. I believe it was bought by someone out of New York. They've been remodeling. Extensively." "One of us?" Merlin glanced to Natalie again. "One of us?" he repeated, then stated, "Natalie knows about us--you know that, I'm sure." "I...no, it wasn't bought by one of us. Some mortal," he said, skirting out of the room by his two guests. "If you need..." "Blood," Natalie said when the other cut off, which caused a sharp glance toward her. "Yes, if you need blood, there's a warehouse near the harbor--belongs to Martin Merchant Company--where you can get it. They have their logo on the roof, so look for that. They usually have the doors at street level locked, but roof access should be open most of the night. Don't take Ms. Lambert. They will not tolerate her presence." Nick followed Merlin further into the house, still keeping Natalie close. "Is that your only question, Nick?" "No." "Need a new identity?" Merlin asked as if it were nothing. "No, not at the moment." "Then what--" "Information." "Oh no, absolutely not." "You haven't even heard--" "I've heard enough. Information is something I plant and protect, not distribute." "It wouldn't be about any clients, and rather than distribute, I'd like you to research something...someone. I want to know where they are living right now and maybe anywhere they might frequent." "One of us? Or a mortal?" "Neither." "Neither?" Realization flickered in the vampire's expression, and he shook his head. "No, Nicholas, I will not--" "Please. I'll make sure to come to you when we need new identities. Natalie and I." "Nick--" "Either do this for me, tell me everything you know about Immortals, or give me the name of someone who will," he said as he started forward, without Natalie. Merlin backed away, fright now replacing other emotions. "I..." His gaze flipped between the two, and he shook his head. "I already told LaCroix all I know, and I will not give you the name of any suspected Immortals." He again looked at Natalie, then he grabbed Nick's arm and started pulling him to the side. "Nick--" "She knows," he said, pulling back. "She knows about them, but we need to know more." "I can't--" He shoved Merlin back, then continued deeper into the house. "I get the impression LaCroix told you what I told him; I don't know anything else," Merlin said, following. In the kitchen, Nick started opening drawers until he found a small, sharp knife, which he looked at for a little bit before turning. Merlin was right there, and Natalie wasn't far behind him. She glanced at the knife, then looked up at him before approaching closer and coming into the kitchen. "Nat?" "Give it to me," she said, pulled the knife from his hand, and turned. Nick stayed close behind Natalie as she started forward toward Merlin, then in a moment he smelt her blood as she cut into the palm of her hand. He kept his eyes on Merlin rather than Natalie, and after the hunger he saw shock register and watched the other man step back, shaking his head again. "She's--" "She's one of them," Nick answered as Natalie slid by him and went to the sink to wash the blood off her healed hand. "We need to know more." "How long?" "Mid-May." "So *that's* why LaCroix came here and--" Merlin shook his head, letting out a breath. "I'm sorry, Nick, I really don't know any more than I told him." "But will you look someone up for me, for us?" "That depends on why...and if this someone is a client or not." "As I said, we want to talk to him. We think he might be willing to talk to us, explain more about what's happened to Natalie." "Then I'll need--" Nick had pulled out a folded sheet of paper, which he handed out to Merlin, stopping his request. "Name, one present address of a sort, and what I've been able to discover about the second without digging too deeply." Once Merlin had taken the piece of paper, he stated, "We mainly want confirmation of the Washington address, as well as where he currently is." Merlin folded the piece of paper open and read, "Duncan MacLeod." "How long before you'd know something?" "Not tonight." He scanned the rest of the note, then folded it back up. "I'll contact you when I can, whether that be if I can help you or not." "But you don't recognize the name?" Natalie asked. Merlin looked up and over at her. "No, I don't recognize the name, but if it's not anywhere near close to the name he is using officially, I might not have much luck. Same if he doesn't officially exist. While that might raise some flags and make it easier to find him, it also might not. Forget that I'm not a private investigator; you'd have better luck tracking him down yourself, I suspect. I really can't guarantee anything." "But you'll be discreet and won't cause trouble for him," Nick said. "If I start asking more questions...I could create additional questions for both of us. For one I'm no longer a detective, and for another it might be better if he didn't know someone was researching him." "And you'll keep me out of this?" Merlin asked, narrowing his eyes. "Yes." Nodding, Merlin said, "I'll find out what I can." "And don't spread around what Natalie is." "Of course not, Nick. It would be unwise for us all, and I do hope I'll have you for some repeat business? Particularly for Ms. Lambert here, especially if she remains in the medical field. Remember, it's much easier to set things up beforehand than in a rush...in the latter case it may even be too late, which I am sure you are aware." Nick managed a forced smile. Yes, he was quite aware of that...and how important it would be for Natalie to have an air-tight background if she ever went back into her field. At least for a little while, she'd be able to use her mortal credentials, however. He took her hand loosely in his and excused, "We'll be on our way...let you get back to...whatever." "Cleaning my sink, apparently." Natalie shirked back a little, squeezing Nick's hand. "I'm--" "Don't apologize. This is a much smaller mess than LaCroix left, and I don't think I would have believed you without an example. At least the blood is contained and mostly down the drain...and none of it is mine, for that matter." The last Merlin said to Nick, who just vaguely gave a nod. While he wondered what LaCroix had done, he could guess. He had taken the swords...who was to say Merlin had handed them over freely? "We'll see ourselves out." "You can go out the back if you'd like--fewer prying eyes that way." "Thanks," he said, then led Natalie out the back since they hadn't driven. They had to undo three locks to get out, and he shook his head when she went to ask a question. Not here. Once outside in the dark, rather contained backyard--trees and tall bushes galore--Nick pulled Natalie close and took off, heading for the loft. He sped as fast as he could, and they arrived in just a few minutes. "So...what's with the locks?" Nick smiled a little as they headed inside. "I don't know, his profession, that he lives--" "Surrounded by mortals in a suburban area?" "Yes, but the yard was dark, can't see out of...or into. Good for vampires leaving by air, but it's also the type of house burglars might target. It's possible he just tries other methods to deter. The camera, for example." "I suppose a dog is about of the question." "Probably. It also might just be a side effect of being a vampire." "LaCroix doesn't have locks." "LaCroix doesn't need--nor at times necessarily want--locks," he pointed out and he got a wince in return. "I suppose not," she said after the elevator ground to a halt. Then she pulled open the freight door and asked, "So now what?" "We wait, at least for the time being. And we decide how we want to get there." "How we want to get there?" "Another plane...or since it's on the same continent we could drive, take a train..." "Not a train," she rather quickly answered, but then she asked, "How long would it take to drive there? Do you know?" "About two days if we both drive. More like four if just one of us drives." Natalie smiled back, asking, "That would be your choice, wouldn't it? To drive there." He felt a bit thrown off at her guess. "Why would you say that?" "Because of how much you like to just drive around Toronto aimlessly. And because we drove around Europe when you showed me around." Now he smiled. He supposed he did. "Yeah, I'd probably pick driving. Just remember we may very well have another trip by plane coming up." "We have at least a few days to decide, right?" "Yeah." Nick stayed back as Natalie flashed him another smile then turned, heading to the kitchen. That reminded him about Merlin's mention of where to get his own meals. They had already done shopping for Natalie, but not him. While he could feed from her, it would be better if he had a separate supply...and while it would surely be human blood, at least it wouldn't be human body temperature. He still felt a bit off from how he had killed Carver the previous night, and Natalie's hot blood that day hadn't helped him push those feelings away. "Nat? I'll be back in, hopefully, a few minutes." "Going to check out that warehouse?" "Yeah." "And get a new lock for the door?" Nick froze mid-turn at that. He had forgotten about that and nodded. "And I guess a new lock, which is overdue, so I'll get that first and it'll be more than a few minutes." Future Tense - (22/36) "You know, it'd be great if we stopped breaking into people's homes," Natalie hissed as Nick picked another lock, this time while she watched. "Nick?" "It's the same person, just a different home," he said as he pushed open the door. "And that makes a difference?" "We're not breaking in to steal anything, just checking for ourselves whether he's here or not." "But he's not. Merlin said--" "That he's pretty sure this MacLeod is an Immortal and that he thinks MacLeod flew from here out of the country a few days ago." "Yeah, to Europe. He could be heading back to France, or hopefully that's where he's headed. Probably should have just got a different flight rather than stick with this one." Nick ignored her protest, instead scanning the room. The furniture hadn't been covered, electronics hadn't been unplugged... It looked more like someone actually still lived there. "Is anyone here?" "No," he replied. "What about the kitchen?" "Ah, I'll check." He watched Natalie head over to the kitchen, where she checked the refrigerator and garbage. "Garbage taken out, but there's some fresh food in the fridge." Nick slowly walked back toward Natalie and the entrance. So he had left, but perhaps in a hurry. Or perhaps someone either stayed here or looked after the place--he had the impression that the business downstairs was still open, so that made sense. "Let's go." "Where?" He had to think a bit on that. If they tried, they could be back in Toronto before sunrise. "Either hotel or check out one of the other leads." "Well, he's not here, so...oh, I don't know." "Do you want to stay the day here, or go back to Toronto?" "I don't want to feel rushed." "Then we'll stay. It might be better to go early in the evening, anyway. It'd be less busy during an off hour," he said, even though they could go tonight if they only went one place--a bar Merlin said he thought the owner might be a friend of MacLeod's. The behavior of friends could sometimes tell much about a person. "Come on...let's leave before we're caught." "Hmm, finally see it my way, I see." He grinned at her teasing, then headed to the door they had come in through. Much like at his loft, one could bypass the elevator. "I wouldn't let us get caught." He pulled the door back open and held it for Natalie. "Besides, you haven't stopped me." "I wouldn't be able to." "Not physically, but you could. How many times have you gotten me to do things I didn't want to do? Or talked sense into me?" He pulled the relocked door shut behind them. "Well, at least you're not breaking the locks...something you could do with just a little twist." She then smiled and continued, "And I could always wait outside or something rather than join you, or badger you when you ask me to poke around." Nick's smile widened a bit; yes, she could have been much harder on him than she had been. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Joe Dawson sat at a table in his bar, flipping through files on a new Immortal--Natalie Lambert--that he had recently been alerted to after she had killed an Immortal named Gerald Ramsay right by Duncan MacLeod's barge...after breaking into it. Or, more specifically, a friend of hers, a Nicholas Knight, had done the actual breaking in. The two had first been spotted in Toronto in July, after William Carver tracked the woman down and challenged her, expected to kill her by his past. Carver liked taking new Immortals' heads when he could and, according to Carver's Watcher, it sounded like that was the case. She was fairly new, and they had lucked out, her friend temporarily killing Carver. Then a few days later the two were spotted in Paris at Darius' church--then followed as they went by MacLeod's barge. They hadn't known for sure that she was the Immortal rather than her companion--who had fought Carver--until after they had been in Paris for several weeks, at which her friend had killed his opponent and she had received the quickening. Her first Watcher was killed that night, but the other Immortal's Watcher had been there as well to report what had happened. Over the following months, the two had dropped by MacLeod's barge in Paris many times and also traveled through northwest Europe--mostly France and Britain, but they had also taken a side-trip to Belgium. It was apparent from the file he had received that Knight was no ordinary mortal. Carver had mortally wounded Knight in Toronto, and yet he had been fine a couple of days later. In Paris, he had again been mortally wounded, passed out, died even...only to wake and take his stunned opponent down in a blur. Then he had taken a hit from a quickening, but barely been fazed--unusual, and Joe wouldn't have believed this either unless he had seen pictures. It had been then that just what Knight was became clear. He was a vampire. Then, in London, Lambert's new Watcher again turned up dead--neck broken just like the first--and again it had been Knight who fought and killed the Immortal who had challenged them. It had been the other's Watcher who had reported what had happened, as well as more information on the two, such as the man's real identity--Nicolas de Brabant--and a Watcher file was referenced. Somewhere they had a real file on him, but it wasn't digitized like Lambert's file. Finally, back in Paris, with Ramsay, Knight had once again been fatally wounded--shot literally to death. Lambert had shown that she could fight if need be, and not only had Ramsay's gunman been killed--neck broken, again--but so had Lambert's third Watcher. She hadn't received a new one after that; the two were tracked back to Toronto from a distance, then spotted by William Carver's Watcher upon their return. He had waited rather patiently for the two...and had paid for that patience and obsession with his life. Carver's Watcher resigned after handing in his report. Knight had used his inhuman strength to behead Carver in the end, which had unsettled him. That unsettled Joe as well, and made him want Nicolas de Brabant's real file and hope it contained more than a few lines. While the two more had bad luck than were on some rampage, why they wanted to find MacLeod wasn't known--or how they even knew about Darius. Forget the three dead Watchers and dead bystander. Some vague photographs from Paris showed Ramsay's driver being killed, but who did it couldn't be seen clearly. The culprit didn't appear to be Lambert or Knight, which wasn't encouraging. It had been at least several months since Lambert had first died, and even that wasn't known--no obituary or the like, no article in the paper. In late May they had just resigned from their jobs simultaneously, and they were both still using their identities, their names from Toronto. It had been assumed that her first death had been before or around when they resigned, but it was just a guess. They had only finally done the breaking in to MacLeod's barge a week ago, and then they more or less ran into both Ramsay and Carver the same day, albeit on opposite sides of the Atlantic. Then the two had remained in Toronto until last night, when they had booked a flight to Washington of all places. Joe knew they wouldn't find anything here, or at least that they wouldn't find who they seemed to be looking for. MacLeod had left days ago, and he himself had a flight to Paris that night as he had heard what had happened in Bordeaux and that MacLeod had returned to Paris. It didn't make sense. If they could track MacLeod to the States and possibly even the dojo, why were they making the extra trip when they probably knew or should know MacLeod had left? But maybe they didn't know. Joe shook his head and shut the file folder. There wasn't much he could do without more information. After hearing what Methos had done--that he had helped MacLeod kill his old comrades--Joe had contacted the other and asked if he could somehow pull not only Brabant's file, but any associated files--specifically those on other vampires. He didn't think it was Brabant killing his friend's Watchers, but another like him. As a Watcher researcher, Methos could get the file on Brabant much easier than even he could, assuming those in charge of the research archives hadn't been told that 'Adam' was an Immortal. But he wanted the files as soon as possible and he didn't want to go through anyone else. If any Immortal had ever run into a vampire, it might be Methos...or that's what he theorized. Then there was the question of how the two had known to go to Darius; he had asked Methos to go through Darius' records as well to see if there was any mention of either Brabant or someone associated with Brabant. Methos had balked at that, complaining about how impossible that would likely be, but he agreed to try. Joe hoped that by the time he arrived in Paris, Methos would have something. He didn't think the pair would stay long once they discovered MacLeod wasn't there--they'd be right back on a plane either for Toronto or Paris themselves. Standing, Joe went over to the bar, nodded toward one of his employees as he walked around the back. "Terry, I'm--" Joe froze, cutting off as he saw who just entered--the very pair he had been thinking about. He turned more purposely toward his employee. "I'm going to go after I get these folk," he said and moved to an open area of the counter, carefully sliding the folder in his hands out of sight under the bar between two bottles as the two came up to him. Joe smiled. "What can I get for you two?" Nick glanced down toward the other man, then turned back toward Joe. "You're not the bartender." "I'm the owner," Joe answered and watched the other almost smile. Yes, these two had done their research, and he went ahead and introduced himself, saying, "Joe Dawson," even though he had a feeling the two already knew his name. "What would you like? There's a--" "I believe we have a mutual friend," Nick said. "Duncan MacLeod." While Joe knew this was a lie, he tried not to let it change his expression. "Do you know if he'll be back here soon? Or is he staying in Paris for the time being?" He smiled. The other didn't even hesitate. Not only did he not wait for an answer, but he could feel that this man was used to getting answers. "No, I don't know if he'll be back here soon. I can't say for sure on the other, either." "We've been trying to drop by but have seemed to have missed him both there and now here. I don't suppose you could tell me if he's there now? Or will be for at least the next few days?" "No, I'm sorry, I can't." Then he had an idea and he asked, "If he comes back here, I could give him a message?" and watched the other man consider it, then pull out a pen as he grabbed a napkin and started writing. "If he returns or calls here, please ask him to call this number," Nick said, pushing the napkin across the bar. Taking it, Joe recognized it as not being local--a Paris number. "And who should I tell him he'll be calling?" "Nicholas Knight. It's somewhat urgent." "About? I might be able to get hold of him, call him if--" "We really need to talk to him in person." Joe watched the man turn slightly; he was ready to leave. The woman wasn't, and he took a chance and set out a couple of shot glasses. "What would you like?" He watched the two look at one another, and the man nodded a little. "Ah, something strong would be nice about now," Natalie said. He smiled and reached for a bottle of rum only to switched to vodka at the last moment. Both had about the same alcohol content--the max he could legally buy--but he just had a feeling... "What about you?" he asked with a glance at the man as he poured a generous shot. The man--vampire--hesitated, and he could guess why. "That'll be fine," Nick finally said just before the bottle disappeared back behind the counter. He filled the second shot glass, then watched the two take their drinks. To be honest, he was a little surprised at both their reactions, the man's more than the woman's. He had to take it in halves, whereas she took it almost like some flavored water. Joe was faintly surprised that he had even drank it, although to be honest he didn't know much about vampires...or not enough. He hoped to know more the next day; he'd have to if he wanted to talk to MacLeod about his impending visitors and have the other believe him. The man paid--overpaid by more than double, actually--and the two left. Joe waited a bit before finally leaving. If not careful, he'd be late for his plane. He rather hoped the two weren't flying more or less straight back to Paris. If so, they could very well have the same flights. The two had, however, only been seen outside at night, so he assumed they'd go to Toronto or some other city on the eastern side of the continent to stay they day. It'd give him a hopefully guaranteed half a day longer to talk to Methos and then MacLeod. Hopefully, unless vampires didn't mind being, he supposed, bundled up in some corner or the lavatory for a daytime flight. Or that vampires didn't have as much trouble with sunlight as myth said they did. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "You okay?" Natalie asked as they walked rather slowly away from the bar, remaining out in the open on the sidewalk. She had spotted two places they could have headed toward and Nick could have taken them off back to the hotel for their things, but they kept walking. "Nick?" "Fine." "You sure? Not sure whether you're having more trouble with, well, normal food or the alcohol content--a hundred and fifty proof." "It wasn't the alcohol content." "Hmm, you probably would have done better if it were even higher, huh?" "Maybe. And where'd you--" "My grandmother's cupboards." "You mean your Russian grandmother's cupboards." Natalie tensed at that. "He couldn't, I don't know..." "He knew something, Nat. He was watching me a little too closely, and he was too calm." "But how would he know? You said there weren't any surveillance cameras at MacLeod's." "I don't know. Silent alarm? Nearby businesses? He knew something. Either who we are or--" "Or what we are," Natalie realized. "He's not like me." "And he's not a vampire. He's mortal." "And either knows something as you said or is very good at reading people. Or both." She let Nick push her along, toward another dark area. "So are we heading to the airport now, or do you want to--" "Airport. I think we picked the right person to talk to and we know MacLeod isn't here, probably won't be." "He didn't give us any sort of answer," she pointed out, but Nick smiled. "What?" "The priest in Paris said it--he splits his time, possibly half and half. That's probably what I'd do if I regularly switched locations, and Merlin said he taught at a university occasionally." "Half a year," she said. "Convenience. And the bar owner's answers, while--" "Useless." "His answers weren't useless. Quite informative, really. He didn't confirm nor deny anything; loyal yet honest, even when...lying so to speak." "Hmm, like you...you go quiet when you don't want to confirm something," she teased, bumping Nick a little. "Something. He knows how to get hold of MacLeod. I'm sure of it. The phone number didn't throw him, either " "And should I ask what number that was you wrote down?" she asked and now saw him tense. "It was LaCroix', wasn't it?" she realized. "Nick..." "He can change it if he wants, but I had to give him something, and--" "If we're going to live in Europe, we need new cell plans or something. I don't want our phone number and his to be the same." "He won't use it. He prefers in person or--" She waited, but Nick had just stopped speaking. "Or?" "He seems to have grown fond of computers. Newsgroups, chatrooms. Unless we're in different countries and he wants to talk to me, I don't think he'll use the phone." "But he'll use the answering machine." "And if we had cell phones, he'd check the voice mail. As long as we stay together, any privacy is hoped for rather than assumed. We might as well use the number. He can always change it, but I don't think he'll need to. Dawson isn't going to use that number, or probably even give it to MacLeod; instead he'll warn his friend that we're coming." "So we could walk into a trap." "It's...possible. But I think it'll be okay." While Natalie felt fairly good with Nick's guesses, she really didn't want to walk into another trap or even have another run-in with someone. Future Tense - (23/36) "I don't want involved in this any more than I already am, Joe," Methos said as he sat down on a bench. "But you brought the files?" Joe asked and he watched the other hesitate but concede. "Yes, I brought the files. It was harder getting them than I expected. I was asked about the file number, if I knew what I was asking for." "And?" "And after what you said, I guessed that the suffix meant vampire and was thankfully correct. I don't think the curator wanted to give me these. And I don't blame him." "So Brabant's file--" "Yes, I have that. And I went through both his and Darius' files looking for other possible vampires or Immortals they would have both met as suggested." Methos pulled a file folder out from his coat. "Brabant's file. It's actually rather detailed in places--seems like for a time he was mixed up with an Immortal by the name of Michael Moore... There's a few pictures." Joe silently flipped open the file, and on the front were copies of color photos of Brabant and Moore with a note. "This photo is from Vietnam," he said of Brabant's. "And there, like most everywhere else, another vampire turns up. He goes by the name Lucien LaCroix--has for centuries. That file is more fragmented and not very detailed, but he is the link to Darius. They've talked every few decades for over a millennium. But when he's been seen with Brabant, people die." Joe flipped to the back and saw a face he hadn't seen before--and it was clear the man didn't know he was being photographed. He recognized every aspect. The two he had met at his bar were talking to this other man right outside the church, Darius' church. "What do you know about vampires?" "Some..." "You've met one before." "No, I just know about their kind. Rumors, mostly. I've actually never had the pleasure." "But you've known they exist?" "I've seen their work. And I've had...suspicions. I know when to keep quiet and not ask questions." He scanned that second file; Methos was certainly uncomfortable about this, and didn't want involved. "Any of those suspicions in here?" "No, but...I don't want involved if that man is who I think he is." Joe could hear it in Methos' voice--it wasn't a fond memory. But the file didn't really say much--the man's name, Lucien LaCroix, and origins unknown--other than what he was and his association with Darius. "Who do you think he is?" "Rumor was he would very likely become Emperor of Rome." "And?" "And what? That never happened. There never was an Emperor Lucius Livius or Lucius Divius...I don't even remember his full name. From what I recall, he looked a little younger then, but beyond that just the same. That was, oh, 74 or 75? A few years before Vesuvius blew. If he became a vampire, I suppose that explains that. Watchers don't even know who he was originally." "But you do." "Only because we met. Briefly. He had me killed rather...well, *memorably*. I'd rather him not remember me, especially if he knows about Immortals, which it seems he does. He is also probably the most likely suspect in the deaths of Lambert's Watchers. Or he'd be my guess. Someone to try and stay away from, regardless." Methos paused, looking down at the ground for a moment before adding, "The second vampire is a woman, unknown age and unknown current location." "What about that number I gave you?" "Attached to a bogus name--probably an alias of Lucien LaCroix'--but the number matches the address they were tracked to here in Paris." Methos paused, then a bit of incredulity tainted his tone as he asked, "He actually gave you that number?" "They've been trying to talk to MacLeod. Flew from Toronto to Paris, back to Toronto, again to Washington, then back to Toronto and then--" "Then they have a scheduled flight here." "They're probably tired of traveling around the world just to have a conversation. The number was in case I saw MacLeod there back in the States...in lieu of leaving a message. They got lucky I was still there--I was on my way out for my flight when they walked in." Joe shook his head, then stood. "When will their flight arrive? Do you know?" "Just before dawn." "Then they'll have to wait, assuming--" "Yes, vampires can't go out during the day. There's a primer of a sorts at the very back," Methos said as he nodded toward the file folder. "I took the liberty to copy it while I was making the others. None of that is supposed to leave research, even as a copy. Top secret files of a secret society...I'll probably never be able to get them again." "Just how many files are there? On those like him?" "A couple of file cabinets worth. And those are just the confirmed ones and what's been gleaned about them. Vampires aren't actively watched because those who get too close have a habit of turning up dead...just like Lambert's Watchers. They don't mix with Immortals much at all for whatever reason. Lucius' visits to Darius is more the exception rather than the rule. They've visited on and off for possibly the entire time Darius had been in Paris... Maybe even longer. And Brabant's file was one of the thickest from what I could see. Most of the files were thin, almost nothing in them. I was watched very closely in there. And be careful who you say something to. Most watchers know nothing about them. Imagine if every Watcher knew about vampires." He didn't have to imagine that as he watched Methos rather quickly leave. If vampires were anything like myth... At that thought, Joe left as well, wanting to get a good look at the files. Then he needed to decide just what he was going to say to MacLeod. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Is something wrong?" was the first thing Duncan MacLeod could think to ask when Joe Dawson showed up at his barge late at night--almost eleven--looking tired and ready to give bad news. "Joe? Did something happen?" "No, no...or not yet, anyway. But we should really talk inside." "Are you being followed?" he asked once Joe was inside and he had the door shut. "No, don't have to worry about that just yet I don't think." "Just yet?" he asked, following Dawson until he had sat down. "Just yet?" "It's going to take a bit to fully explain...and you might want to sit down." "I'm not sitting down until--" "Someone is looking for you. A relatively new Immortal and her friend. That enough?" Considering this, he finally sat down. "Do I know either of them?" "I'm fairly sure you don't. The names Natalie Lambert or Nicholas Knight trigger anything?" MacLeod thought, but shook his head. "What about Nicolas de Brabant?" "Her friend is an Immortal, too?" "Actually, that's where things get difficult to explain..." MacLeod watched as Dawson laid out pieces of paper...files with associated pictures of a man and a woman, another stack of photos on top of another stack of files, and then Dawson kept hold of another stack as he pointed first at the photo of the woman. "That's Natalie Lambert. We're not sure when her first death was, precisely, but we're assuming last year in April, May or perhaps June. In late May she quit her job." "As?" "Toronto Medical Examiner. The man worked there as a homicide detective--he quit at the same time. In July, after running into William Carver, they came here to Paris and right to the church, probably looking for Darius." MacLeod's attention zoned in on another photo, from the middle stack. There they were. Then the photo was pushed aside and... "That same night they found your barge. Stayed in Paris for a while until they ran into another Immortal after a training session. That was undoubtedly her first quickening, although it was her friend who fought. Before then, we weren't sure which of them was the Immortal." Dawson paused, then he added, "Her first Watcher was found dead nearby, his neck broken. After that, they tried by here again before traveling around Europe, mostly France and England, although he took her to what was probably his home...his original home. In London, they met another Immortal, and her second Watcher turned up dead." "They're killing--" "It's not either of them. Or I don't think it is." Dawson flipped through the photos to one with three people outside Darius' church. "I think it may be this man. He also showed up just outside here after they broke into your barge." "They broke--" "And then ran into Gerald Ramsay, who was looking for you." The one thing he most remembered about Ramsay was that he shot first. A mortal and a new Immortal wouldn't stand a chance... "And they're still alive?" "Quite. Her third Watcher as well as Ramsay's gunman ended up with their necks broken, just like the first two. Ramsay's gone as well--she took him out. We haven't given her a new Watcher. I don't think we can, short of telling them about us. They ran into Carver again back in Toronto. Then barely a day ago they walked into my bar, asking about you. And if reports are right, they picked up a tail on the way back to Toronto--and currently Paris. They'll be here, as in your barge, probably tomorrow at sunset." "So what happened to Carver and the others?" "Dead. For more than that, you should read the files yourself." "And the man killed them?" MacLeod asked, reaching for the man's file. "All but Ramsay. They disposed of the bodies, which is unusual, especially for a new Immortal. Their backgrounds and what he is probably help with that." "What he is?" "He's not mortal. Look at the photograph's notes." MacLeod did. The first was recent, but the second wasn't--1970, Vietnam--and then he looked back at one of the other photos. Another decade back. "A quarter of a century and he hasn't aged a day. Notice something else?" "He looks like Moore, Michael Moore," MacLeod said with barely a thought, his eyes on the file photograph. "We had them mixed up at one point. That's probably part of why the last fifty years or so are so detailed, but he also hasn't hidden away in that time." "So he's an Immortal," MacLeod said then finally started reading the file only to stop rather quickly. "He's a--" "Vampire. I know it sounds crazy, MacLeod, but we have pictures to prove it. And apparently a couple of file cabinet's worth of files on his kind, but I get the impression their existence is very need to know." "Get the impression?" "Methos got the files. They're locked away, only accessible to researchers--specifically researchers that already know, by the sound of it." He let that sink in, then asked, "He know about them? Vampires?" "He had heard rumors, but never actually met one." Joe flipped through the photographs, then pointed at one taken outside the church of the second man. "Although it sounds like he met that man before he became a vampire, and it didn't end well. He's their link to Darius, from what we can tell. Visited him at least two or three times a century for the last millennium, if not longer. Possibly the entire time Darius resided here in Paris. And get this, according to Methos, as a mortal he was in line to become Emperor--Roman, first century AD. Amazing he and Darius got along. As mortals they would have been enemies, but they also would have been about the same age...possibly had at least some similar life experiences." MacLeod barely listened; he was scanning Nicolas de Brabant's file. Guessed to be eight hundred years old. All but the last hundred and fifty years were quite sparse, although not empty. "I'll get us a drink while you go through those--read Lambert's last." MacLeod wondered what was in that last file, or even if there was something in particular there waiting. He found Brabant's file interesting. 'Vampire' didn't bring to mind cop, let alone a homicide detective, and while perhaps being an archaeologist or teacher of archaeology and history didn't seem unusual, the idea that a vampire had been a medic, even a field surgeon in the mid-19th century seemed...off. He had noticed mentions of what he guessed to be file numbers, and he found the matching files handed to him once he finished. The other man's name was Lucien LaCroix, and beyond noting where he was--either Paris with Darius or with de Brabant--there was little other information. The other number belonged to a woman, but it wasn't Natalie Lambert. Instead she appeared to be another vampire with no photograph and even less information on her than LaCroix. Lambert's file proved the most detailed, and it had more on Brabant in it as well. He examined several photographs as he read it. From looking at all the photographs, any doubt that vampires existed vanished in his thoughts. Toward the end, it described their return to Toronto and their second run-in with William Carver. He had put that file down with a sick feeling. Brabant had decapitated Carver with his bare hands; granted, after nearly doing so with a sword. And he had strung it out longer than necessary according to whoever wrote this report, he assumed Carver's Watcher. "Here," Joe said, handing out a glass. "Hope you don't mind; guessing it's the strongest you have." Taking the drink and downing it without much thought, MacLeod then flipped through the photographs, stopping on one of Knight or Brabant or whatever his name was with Lambert, walking along the Seine not far from the barge. "And you have no idea why they might want to find me?" "When they came looking for you, he said he wanted to talk to you about something. Best guess is it could be about what you are, about Immortals. Every Immortal they have met has tried to kill them, and they went to Darius first, or tried to... From there, if they asked around about his friends..." MacLeod took in a deep breath at that, aware that was surely how they had gotten his name. The current priest at the church had likely mentioned him. "So they're coming back to Paris." "Their flight will arrive close to dawn; they've only been seen out at night, probably because of what her friend is, so they'll probably come by here at or soon after sunset." He didn't know what to think of having the two as visitors, not after reading that last bit. "He really--" "Decapitated Carver without the use of a blade." Joe nodded at this, continuing, "Carver's Watcher retired; he'd seen too much. And it's not just what happened in Toronto. Other than that, Knight's played by the rules. He and Lambert haven't teamed up, and he doesn't use what he is unless he's losing...or has to. By the looks of it, Carver figured out what Knight was, and Carver likes to make his targets afraid...almost hunts those he goes after if he can or if he has to like he did with them. Practically tortures them. They've hit some of the worst they could for her being new. It's quite possible they don't know much about Immortals. Just whatever their acquaintance learned from Darius. They clearly didn't know about the Quickening until it happened." "Darius never gave any hints about vampires existing--but he didn't give any hints about the Watchers, either, not until he had to, and even then..." "From what little I know, it sounds like vampires are something better to not know about. Watchers don't watch them because it's too dangerous. Those that know and live with that knowledge are probably smart enough not to pass their knowledge along." "You're passing it along, Dawson." "And I met both Knight and Lambert. I think he knew I didn't tell him everything I could, but they didn't do anything more than ask. They probably don't even know about the other deaths--her Watchers were all found where they died." Joe poured both of them a second drink, and after MacLeod had downed his, he asked, "Do you want to talk to them, or do you want me to head them off?" MacLeod forced the swallow of alcohol down. "You want to--" "I think it would be a good idea if I talked to them. If it is their acquaintance killing Watchers, maybe they can stop it. They might be the only ones who can. And I don't think they'll take anything short of the full story. I wouldn't, and you certainly didn't." MacLeod didn't particularly like the idea of the other man talking to them if vampires were as dangerous as it sounded. "Dawson--" "Just think about it before this afternoon," Joe said as he stood. "I'll call you and we can decide how to do this." "And you're sure they won't come by before then?" "Almost positive. Their flight arrives half an hour before sunrise, and they've been staying in the Latin Quarter. They'll have to cut it close just to get there, and I doubt they'd risk being stuck here for the day." MacLeod watched the other go, then he looked back at the files. While he didn't like the idea of the unexpected visitor...at least he had a warning, and he had to admit Dawson was right in that the two seemed to fight fair. They had even left Carver alive the first time, even though it sounded like they knew even then how to kill him permanently. And they had given all the others the chance to walk away or tried themselves. The two weren't picking fights. Neither himself nor Dawson would likely be in any danger, as long as they didn't come across as threatening...and Dawson was right in that it might be better if it were him. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Natalie's mention of a trap had Nick's guard up, but he didn't expect it to be tested so soon. At the airport as they left for Toronto, she had sensed something, someone. She couldn't pinpoint who it was, and he had just told her to keep walking, pretend she didn't notice. They were in a busy airport--too public for anyone to challenge them--and if they just got on the plane, that would be done with. Or that's what he had thought. Whoever it was had gotten on their flight, but still wouldn't show themselves. Natalie had been uncomfortable the whole flight back, and as soon as they could, he took them back to the loft. That had finally stopped it, but then that evening as they went back for their flight to Paris... At first Nick had just thought Natalie was overreacting, perhaps getting too nervous about what might happen, but when he had looked at her he had seen it. She was trying not to look around, just like he had told her that morning--don't look around, don't alert whoever it was to where she was. "Nat?" "Just walk." "Are they following us?" "I don't know; I can still feel them. I can't tell how close, just that they're close enough. Which doesn't mean much, as it seems to vary. So just walk. Whoever it is isn't confronting us, so maybe we can lose them at the gate." Nick wanted to say something, but instead he just stayed close and led them along as short a path as possible to their plane. Once on the plane itself, he caught a nod and faint smile from Natalie. They must have out-walked whoever it was...gone out of their range. However, after they found their seats--near the middle of the plane by the window--but before take off, he watched Natalie tense again and force a smile. At that he slid back by her and had her switch with him. He pulled his coat off and carefully folded it--their swords were with it--handing it to Natalie to put by the window with her. All he could think was to look normal and pretend nothing was out of the ordinary. Natalie did well, but after they were in the air he had asked her again whether or not anyone was there: Yes, she thought there was. He hoped it was coincidence but couldn't help but think it wasn't. Then, once to Paris, just like in Toronto he had flown them away from the airport. They had few enough things to manage it, thankfully. Hopefully, that would be the end of it. "Nick?" Natalie asked once back on the ground and on their way toward their home for the moment. "You don't think it could have been the bartender? I mean it's a bit of a coincidence...we ask questions, then someone seems to start following us..." He slowed to a stop, his hand still around Natalie's waist, which stopped her as well. He didn't think it was, but it did seem almost too coincidental. But he could also see airports as being a handy way to hunt other Immortals...a way to observe and then follow before striking, or just as an easy way to run into others. "I don't know," he whispered. "Maybe we should think about not going tonight, or only me going." "Nick--" "Just something to think about, talk about." "And leave me here alone? Or, worse, leave me alone with your shadow." "Or you could stay with Janette. I trust them. And it's just a thought, Nat. It's something to consider." "And if I want to go..." "Then we'll both go. It would possibly be better if you did go as MacLeod would know you're like him...but it could also be more dangerous for you. And we still don't know--" "If what happened at the airports is it or not." Nick watched as Natalie sighed and almost pulled away from him, but he held her tight. "Regardless, it will be your decision whether to go or not, as will wherever or whomever you stay with if you don't go." "Should I ask if he's home? LaCroix?" "I don't know yet," Nick whispered back, but he closed his eyes anyway and tried to sense the other vampire. Either he wasn't sure what to latch onto from their time apart, or the other man wasn't there. "If not...one less decision or choice." He smiled, remembering how Natalie had described his sire. "And you won't get stuck alone with my shadow." Nick then guided Natalie along up to the home's entrance with the hope that that night would finally give some long-awaited answers--or at least confirmations. Future Tense - (24/36) "Are you sure you want to come?" Nick asked that night as they drove toward Duncan MacLeod's home. He had been thankful LaCroix hadn't returned the car. He was almost sure the other man would be there, but he had a hard time trusting people at the best of times. So far every Immortal they had met had tried to kill him and Natalie; that this MacLeod would be different he would have to wait to see. She hadn't answered and he glanced over at her. "Nat?" "Yeah, I'm sure. Sorry, I was just thinking." "Thinking or worrying?" "Maybe a bit of both." She looked out the window, then turned back and asked, "Why does this seem like such a short ride? We're almost there, aren't we?" "Because it is a rather short drive, Nat. Do you want me to stop?" "No, I was just wondering..." Natalie said, trailing off as Nick drove them down to the river. He wished she felt more comfortable, less nervous, but he felt the same, his senses high on alert as they approached. Someone was there, a car outside, but when he glanced at Natalie, she shook her head. Maybe this MacLeod wasn't like her, but from Merlin it sounded like he was...and he used the same name over and over, unlike himself. Knowing that they just might not be close enough, he stopped the car and got out, shutting the door as quietly as he could. Walking to the other side of the car, he found Natalie's door open. "Anything?" "No, but someone's here, isn't there?" Natalie whispered back. Nick nodded and then shut her door as well, once again trying to muffle the sound at least a little. Then he led her closer to the barge, but slowly. He watched her, but even as they approached as close as they could without actually going aboard, Natalie shook her head. Then Nick heard movement and saw someone come into view--the bartender from Washington. Why was he here? Instinctively he pulled Natalie a little closer, not liking the possible answers. "Nick?" she whispered and pulled back a little. He let her, but kept his eyes on the man as he started walking toward the edge of the barge and down a ramp that hadn't been there on their last visit. "You two should be more surprised to see me." Then he looked right at Nick. "You knew I didn't tell you the truth." "I knew you were holding something back," he corrected. "You warned him." "Not as a result of your visit, but yes, I told MacLeod you two are looking for him." "Where is he?" Nick asked, nodding back toward the barge, which was empty. "He's waiting for us. I thought we could go on a little walk first." "And he agreed?" "Reluctantly, but yes." Dawson walked right up by the two, smiling. "Nicolas de Brabant and Natalie Lambert." Nick stiffened, almost pulling back as other man said his mortal name. This mortal knew more than he had thought. "Or do you prefer Nicholas Knight?" He just stared back at first, then simply said, "You know," not elaborating. "I know who you are, both of you. I know about Immortals, and I know about your kind. I even know how old you are and--" "Enough," Nick almost hissed, the word enough to stop the mortal's explanation. "What do you want?" "I want to know why you want to talk to MacLeod." He didn't answer. "And how you knew about Darius." "A mutual acquaintance." "Lucien LaCroix." Now Nick really tensed and hoped his sire wasn't nearby, listening. He hadn't been at the apartment that day, so he could be either watching from a distance or away...no way of really telling. "Let's walk, and I'll try to answer your questions," Joe said, nodding down along the river, then he started to walk that way. "Or some of them, anyway." Somewhat reluctantly Nick followed, still holding Natalie tightly next to him. "But first I have a question of my own... You seem to have figured out what she is or you already knew about Immortals. Why did you want to talk to Darius, and now MacLeod?" "How much do you know about Immortals?" Natalie asked, startling Nick a little. "Quite a lot. I belong to an organization that observes Immortals, records their lives for history." "And my kind," Nick added. "No. No, we don't observe your kind, or not intentionally. And most of my people don't know vampires even exist. I didn't a week ago. A few years ago, there was a group of my people that started killing Immortals--Darius was one of those killed. If we all knew about your kind and tracked you...that would be a disaster. Your people are a rather different group of immortal, and myth is even more biased toward vampires than otherwise nameless immortals. We keep their secret. And the few that know about your people keep that secret as well." After the other had stopped speaking, they walked a little ways in silence. Then Nick asked, "What about Immortals?" "What do you know?" "Ah, not much, really," Natalie answered. "Nat," he whispered, pulling her a bit closer. "I'm not going to use anything against you. Like I said, we observe and--" "You're doing a bit more than observing right now," Nick pointed out. "I've become a bit more than just an observer. It's quite unorthodox, but MacLeod has become my friend. I'm his Watcher. Most Immortals have no idea we even exist, let alone that their lives are being chronicled. I shouldn't even be talking to you, let alone telling you about us." "Do I have a--" Natalie started. "No, not at the moment. Now, Immortals..." Nick felt the brush off and asked, "But Natalie has had a Watcher, hasn't she?" The mortal was hesitant to answer, and he stated, guessing, "Something happened to them." Dawson hesitated a moment before deciding to tell the two the truth. "Her Watchers have all ended up dead." "How many?" "Three." Nick shut his eyes in an effort to control his anger. He didn't have to ask to know who had killed them--LaCroix had. "Their necks were broken. While I'm fairly sure it's not either of you, others aren't as sure after what you did to William Carver." Now Nick came to a stop. "You know--" "At least one of us has been present for both of your run-ins with him, the two Immortals you met here in Paris, and the one in London." Dawson paused, then added, "And I don't know if you know, but--" "We picked up a tail at the airport, and they may have followed us here," Nick stated. "Yes, you were followed here to Paris, although you might not be found." Nick felt a tiny bit more comfortable talking to this mortal; the other man wasn't holding anything back, it seemed. "So Immortals..." he started, pausing as he tried to think of a good first question, but all he ended up with is, "Why are they so intent to kill one another? Or at least some of them." "For the prize at the end, although just what that is, precisely, isn't known. It won't be until there's only one Immortal, but rumors range from ruling the world, having the power to do anything, to become mortal..." "Something for everyone," Nick said. "That's one way to think about it. Many consider now to be the time of the Gathering, and theorize there won't be too many more new Immortals." "The Gathering," Nick repeated. "There's a lot that isn't known, but more Immortals are...there's more challenges than there were in the past. The number of Immortals are starting to go down faster than new ones are found." "What about the, ah... What happens when we die? When we're beheaded by another Immortal," Natalie fumbled, trying not to think too much about what Dawson had just said, that the number of Immortals was going down. "The Quickening. An Immortal's life-force, their power, their strength, the quickenings they took in themselves..." "That could be tempting on its own," Nick said. "Yes, it could be, and depending on how one looks at it...is it the age of the Immortal? How many they've killed? Who they've killed? Or just how many you take? Some Immortals will take a new Immortal's head without remorse." "But not Darius." "No, Darius hadn't carried a sword for centuries." "Then how did he survive all that time?" Natalie asked. "Wouldn't someone have--" "Darius lived on holy ground, in the church. He rarely left," Joe said, then saw confusion set in. "You don't know about holy ground, do you?" Natalie looked to Nick as he shook his head. "Immortals can't fight on holy ground, can't kill one another. It's neutral ground, safe ground. It's the one rule that's either never been broken or only been broken once--at least in our records." "What happened?" "A year this planet will never forget--79 AD." "Vesuvius," Nick said, not needing it explained more. "It's just a rumor, but even the worst, the cruelest Immortals won't dare fight--let alone kill--on holy ground." Dawson paused, then added, "Another is that any fights are one on one, without interference." "But let me guess, that one isn't always followed," Nick stated. "Not always, but usually. Those who use mortals with guns or other weapons like Gerald Ramsay are generally seen as, I suppose you could say cheaters, especially if they use it to unbalance the playing field." "And an Immortal can die from mortal injuries on consecrated ground, be temporarily killed?" "Yes." "So someone could theoretically shoot us and drag us out and then kill us?" Natalie asked. "Theoretically, yes, although it doesn't happen nearly as often as you're probably thinking. For many, causing any kind of harm on holy ground--even to mortals--isn't worth taking the risk." "But that only impacts Immortals. A mortal--or someone like Nick--could--" "Could do what you're suggesting...or even kill an immortal permanently. That's what happened to Darius. He was beheaded on holy ground by mortals." He watched the two, and noted the man seemed almost angry, but he held it back. He was willing to wait for a further explanation. The vampire reminded him much of MacLeod. "What qualifies, specifically?" she asked. "As holy ground." "That's more complicated, although usually there is a structure, cemetery, or other marker. I don't know about you," Dawson said to Nick, then nodded toward Natalie, "but you should be able to feel it, feel that the ground is a little different now that you know about it." They walked again in silence for a moment before Nick asked, "Is that where you're taking us?" "Yes, actually, although if you don't want to talk to MacLeod, we can pick a different destination?" Nick considered this, thinking. While as long as Dawson kept talking they didn't need to talk to MacLeod, at least they would have met one Immortal who didn't want to kill them. He hoped. "We would like to at least meet him. You already said you warned him we were coming...did you also tell him what I am?" When Dawson tensed just a little, he had his answer. "And did you also tell him about what's happened to us?" "I thought he should know." "And what's to stop him from telling others--" "I've watched MacLeod for nearly two decades. He won't tell others unless you give him a reason, or perhaps if you run into any of his friends." Nick tensed at that, gripping Natalie's arm tighter. "Which you shouldn't worry about right now. Of the three most likely to be told, one already knows--he pulled your files." "A Watcher?" Nick asked. "Well...yes. He's an Immortal." Nick watched the mortal smile at that, and he asked, "Isn't that--" "Quite unconventional." They walked a few steps before Natalie asked, "And he doesn't use his access to hunt other Immortals?" "He would rather not be found at all, I think. You probably won't run into him, unless by accident." "And he won't come after us?" Natalie asked. "No, I think he'll stay away if he can. Not due to either of you, but you're not the only file he pulled." Nick got the meaning to this immediately--LaCroix. Knowing this would cause questions if the other was listening, he closed his eyes and tried to focus, tried to pinpoint the other. Nothing. Either his sire was too far away or purposely didn't want to be found. Same as that morning, however, so he guessed the other vampire wasn't within earshot and he said, "LaCroix." "They may have met at some point, and let's just say he doesn't want to be remembered." Nick absently nodded as they continued walking. "I have a couple of questions..." Natalie started, then after receiving a nod from Dawson, she winced and closed her eyes, pulling back slightly. "That would be MacLeod; we're almost there. And don't worry...I told him you probably just wanted to talk. I suggested meeting on holy ground, on neutral ground, because every Immortal you two have met has gone after you." Despite the assurance, Nick felt on guard and pulled Natalie nearer. "Is that normal?" she asked. "Everyone--" "Well, it's not abnormal. You're seen as a new Immortal, and as a woman you look like an easy target. And you," Dawson said with a nod toward Nick, "are assumed to be mortal, so the other Immortal assumes Natalie doesn't have a teacher and is untrained. While there are many who would step in and train you...unfortunately, it does require a bit of luck to initially meet one of those Immortals." "Ah, well, my luck is--" "Actually, you've been pretty lucky," Dawson cut off. "You had a friend who knows how to use a sword, and you were told or figured out enough to survive. I also take it you knew about vampires before you died?" Natalie tensed and looked at Nick, who nodded. "Yeah." "Knowing about them very possibly made it easier to accept what you now are, even if it's a bit different." "How is it different?" Nick asked. "That I am aware, one big difference is that vampires are made--you were once as mortal as I am now." Nick stiffened a little, but kept walking, waiting for the explanation to continue. "Immortals...it's something that was always there, waiting." "So it's something I was born with?" Natalie asked. "Is it a mutation or--" "No one knows, not really." With that, they came around the corner of a church and Nick pulled Natalie to a halt. They had only stopped a few feet short of MacLeod, and the other man looked about as tense as he felt. "Well, I don't think we need to make introductions, do we?" Joe said, but the other three quietly stared at one another. "I was just telling them how we don't really know where Immortals come from." "No one has tried, I don't know, analyzing an Immortal's parents' genes?" Natalie asked. Nick watched the other two men look at one another. Something was up. "What is it?" "Immortals are foundlings, orphans," Joe answered. "I'm not--" "I'm sorry, but you were probably adopted and your parents never said anything. Or you were just found and taken in." Nick held onto Natalie as she tried to turn and walk off. He looked at MacLeod and started, "So you were--" "A foundling, yes. As Dawson said, all Immortals are foundlings. Orphans. Some of us knew, some of us didn't." "Did you?" Natalie asked. "Not until after I had died, revived, and then been disowned." "And had no idea what he was," Joe added. "Any more surprises?" Natalie asked, her voice a bit uncertain. "Actually, that I'm aware, you've found out about the big ones," Joe answered. "Living forever, that others like you will try to kill you, and that you need to learn to use a sword to survive." "I suppose... Ah, another question, although I think I know the answer...Immortals can or can't have children?" Nick tensed at the question--he suspected he knew the answer, too. Vampires couldn't, and he strongly suspected Immortals couldn't, either, particularly with the added information that they were orphans. Children were a different type of immortality. When Natalie pushed at his arm, he loosened his tight grip a little. "No, they can't." "Figured," Natalie muttered. "I have a question," Nick then asked, his attention on MacLeod. "How often do you fight against those who don't use swords? Those who use axes or--" "Not often, but anything with a blade can be used." "And how long had you known Darius?" "Almost two hundred years." "Your friend said he was killed by his people, by Watchers." MacLeod looked to Dawson, who threw up a hand. "I had to tell them. They had no idea anyone was following them, nor that anyone had died that they hadn't met. The only chance it won't happen again is if they knew." "And I might not be able to do anything, if that's something you were going to ask," Nick countered. "I could even make things worse. Much worse." Pausing, turning his attention back to MacLeod, he asked, "Those who killed Darius..." "They've been dealt with," MacLeod answered. "By dealt with...?" "Dead," Dawson specified. "It doesn't mean there won't be more like them, but there have been very few incidents beyond what happened a few years ago. The instigator and most of his followers--and Darius' murderers--are dead." "Did you meet Darius?" MacLeod asked. Nick just studied the Immortal's question for a moment, then answered, "Yes and no. We were never quite introduced, but you could say we very briefly met. I stayed a day in the church during the French revolution." "Not a good time to be in France...or Paris." "We discovered that," he automatically replied, then suppressed a wince. He wasn't questioned about the slip, however, and so he turned back to Dawson and warned, "And digging into what I am and my past is...it's just as if not more dangerous than following us." "We don't actively watch your kind, although it sounds as though your file is fairly thick. It also sounded like your file was unusual for those like you, perhaps because you've worked among others." "Among mortals," Nick specified. "Yes," Dawson confirmed with a nod. "It creates records--employment, taxes, investigations of anything out of the ordinary. You're also a doppelganger for a known Immortal; you both had very common names, and some of your interests, your professions overlap...much of your file is related to that mistake of ours. We lost track of him, and researchers found you." "This other Immortal--" "He's dead as of about three, almost four years ago," Dawson answered rather simply. Nick, however, wasn't too interested in that, although at least he wouldn't have to worry about running into an Immortal who looked like him. Rather he asked, "How come you lost track of him?" "Well, for one, some Immortals do change their names--their whole names and not just their surname. For another, he was otherwise indisposed for several decades...completely off the grid. The last half century or so of your life was added to your file recently, probably within the last few months." Nick glanced at Natalie, and he could tell she had realized the same thing he had--someone would have made the connection perhaps the first time they had run into Carver, recognized him, and then realized he had been in Toronto for the past six years. And if not then, they would have realised he wasn't an Immortal when he'd beheaded the unnamed man in Paris. "I take it it's not usual for your people to work? While a coincidence in your case, I suspect we'd have more records on your kind if--" "Is it usual for Immortals?" Natalie asked, cutting the other off. "To have jobs, to work?" "Immortals have as varied professions as mortals," Dawson continued. "Some are able to live off previous investments." "What do you do?" Natalie asked, turning to MacLeod. "Or what have you most recently done?" Nick watched the other hesitate and shift a little, moving a few steps to one side before again facing him. "Don't you already know? From what I hear, you two have broken into my barge. Probably broken into--" "That was my doing, not Natalie's," Nick said, moving slightly between them. "And it didn't really answer the question of what you do for a living." "I own the dojo in Washington, the martial arts studio below--" "And?" Nick pushed. "Is that what you do here in Paris as well?" "No." "So what do you do?" Nick again asked. "I'm an antique dealer, at least part time. Occasionally I teach." "History, by chance?" he asked, but MacLeod didn't answer...not verbally. "How old are you? About four hundred?" MacLeod stiffened and took a couple of steps closer. "How did you--" "Your home. I figured the history books were mostly before your time," he answered, almost smiling that he had been right. Exactly right, by the sounds of it. "Not much point in reading up on a time you lived through, events you would have lived through or knew about first hand." He paused, then nodded momentarily toward the mortal. "What did he tell you about me? Or what did my file tell you?" "How old you are, some of your more recent jobs." "And how old am I?" Nick asked. When the other hesitated, he told MacLeod, "Natalie knows more about my past than would be in any file." "Eight hundred. And you're really a vampire? You don't look like one." Nick smirked at that, then looked away toward Natalie as he let himself change before looking back to MacLeod. "Now what do you think?" he slowly asked, letting his fangs show. He smirked again, then looked down and let his appearance flip back. MacLeod and Dawson didn't seem afraid, but MacLeod still seemed almost skeptical...or suspicious. "You don't like what I am...or the idea of what I am, one of the two." "Your kind kill people to survive." "Nick doesn't kill for blood," Natalie countered. "Nat--" "Not anymore, not for a long time," she added. "How did you die?" MacLeod asked, focusing on Natalie. "There wasn't any record of your death. Did he kill you? If not--" "Mac--" "It's none of your business how I died," Natalie told him. "Mac," Dawson started again. "All her death not being reported means is...well, I'm not sure what it means. Dr. Lambert was a medical examiner. Even if she ended up in the morgue... Very well would have been her morgue. And most Immortals don't make it in the ambulance, not for their first death, not unless it's particularly--" "Gruesome," Natalie finished, and she glanced to Nick. "Yes," Dawson confirmed, then he narrowed his eyes a little. "I'm curious...did you ever have an Immortal wake up in your morgue? It wouldn't be out of the question that you'd heard of such things happening." "Ah, no," she said with another almost glance toward Nick, but she stopped and looked at the ground. Nick saw that Dawson, at least, recognized the hesitancy in her answer--the partial lie--and the mortal had turned to him about to ask another question. Stopping the other from asking, he admitted, "I did after a particularly severe...injury." "I take it your kind don't wake up in morgues often, either?" Dawson continued. "No." "I'm still curious about how you died...or when, perhaps? We assume sometime between this past April and June." Both Nick and Natalie stiffened, and Natalie simply answered, "May." "You'll add that to her file, won't you?" Nick asked. Nodding, Dawson said, "Yes, it will be added. While how would be interesting, the when is a little more useful. We can guess that your death was sudden and not natural." "So I wouldn't have died of old age?" "Actually, if you didn't die before then...it's likely you would have died, just like a mortal. Or that's the guess." "You don't know?" Natalie asked. "No. Age at the time of death doesn't seem to matter, but there are very few if any older Immortals--older in appearance, that is." "Because they're easy to kill or--" "If that were the case, we would have record of them." Dawson paused, then pulled out a card from his coat and handed it toward Nick. "Whether you can or cannot do anything, I'd like to know." "And you won't put another of your people on Natalie?" Nick said as he took the card--empty other than a phone number. "We would like to, but not if they'll end up with a broken neck like the others. Whether we put someone on her or not will depend on what you tell me." "I probably won't have an immediate answer." "But you'll think about it, get an answer if you can, and tell me regardless?" At this Nick hesitated. Would he? This man was still a stranger to him--him and Natalie--and apparently more or less a spy. He and others like him spied on Immortals' lives. "Will you think about it?" "Yes, I'll think about it," Nick answered at the extra prodding. "And I'll call, regardless, although I don't know when, and--" "And you might not be able to do anything." "Saying something could backfire. Just by talking to me you're in danger, especially you," Nick said, his gaze solidly on Dawson. "I didn't plan on involving a mortal in this." "And MacLeod, is he in danger?" Dawson asked. Nick's attention snapped to the other, who took a step closer. "Yeah, am I?" "I don't think so." So far, that he was aware, LaCroix had left Immortals alone--other than Natalie, anyway, and that was different. With an almost smile, he added, "Not overly, anyway." Then his smile completely vanished as he looked back at Dawson. "Not nearly as much as you are, or your people." "Don't worry too much about me. If more Watchers die...you might have yourself to worry about." Dawson put up a hand before Nick could comment. "That's not a threat, but it's a possibility. You're the one visible, and with what happened a few years ago with the few who went rouge...some Immortals have found out about us and some of us have been killed. It's a bit delicate. If that phone number you gave me is good, I'll use it to warn you if I hear something in the works." "Do your people know where we live?" Dawson nodded. "Yes. It's part of her file, so it's common knowledge or at the very least easy to find--unlike what you are." "But if they come for me, they'll be told what I am?" "Probably," Dawson said with a nod. "Which will take time and probably only happen if--" "If more of your people are killed," he finished. "The phone number is good, but don't use it unless you have to." He still had no idea what to tell LaCroix, or even if he should. The mortal said good-bye to his friend, and he watched him leave. Future Tense - (25/36) Once Dawson had vanished from his sight, Nick turned his attention with suspicion onto MacLeod. He had been quiet, and from the few times he had spoken, Nick had the impression that wasn't normal for him. "So you didn't know anything about the murdered Watchers?" "No," Nick answered. "And what did Dawson mean by whether you can or can't do anything? Was it about--" "Yes, it was about that, and only that." "You know who killed them." Nick tensed at the statement. "Will you stop it?" "If he can," Natalie answered, and got a glare from Nick. Completely ignoring him, she asked the other man, "You know who killed them, too, right?" "Do you?" Nick asked, deciding that if he knew, he'd answer. "Another like you; a friend of yours." "Their name?" "LaCroix. He killed them." Nick looked away. "Probably. I know he's been watching us, watching Natalie and I. He probably killed them because they were following us, just like he has been...or because they were watching us and had seen what I am." "Is he following you now?" "I don't know. I don't think so," he answered, hoping he was right. He'd rather only tell what he had to rather than be reminded of what he was leaving out. "I can't feel others of my kind quite like you can yours." After a moment of quiet, MacLeod said, "That was an interesting question--about weapons other than swords." "And?" "Seemed a little random." MacLeod walked a few steps to the side, not quite approaching, but also not moving away from the two. "Does decapitation kill vampires?" "Yes," Nick answered, not looking away from the other this time. "All kinds. The same with Immortals?" "All kinds." "So swords are just...convenient?" "Pretty much." MacLeod's attention went past the vampire to the woman. "So you've been training her? Teaching her how to use a sword?" "What I can." "What were you as a mortal? Did you ever--" "Yes, I had to use a sword as a mortal," Nick answered, cutting the other's question off. "I wasn't a farmer or laborer. But you should know that. Your friend, Dawson, he knew my mortal name, knew my age...probably knew all there is to know. Anything Dawson has on me, I'm sure I've probably told Natalie at some point, and if not I don't have a problem with her learning more about me." "You were a crusader, although not by choice." "Yes." "Did you actually fight, or--" "I fought. I was injured and taken prisoner. I should have died." He almost continued--sometimes he wished he had died, as if he had never come back he never would have met LaCroix and become a vampire--but he still didn't really trust this man. He had already said enough. "My...acquaintance...has done most of Natalie's actual training. LaCroix. Or had at first. I've mainly just been giving her someone to practice with." "And when was the last time he used a sword?" Nick had to suppress a smile. "Your kind don't need weapons, do you?" "Not really." "And I take it you don't know any other Immortals?" "All the ones we've met have tried to kill us, as you probably know," Nick said, nodding off the way Dawson disappeared to. "Do you trust him? The mortal and his people, his organization." "Dawson, yes." "But what he is?" "They've watched Immortals for centuries, probably as long as we've been around. They've never revealed us--or your kind, for that matter. I don't know if I would say I trust all of them. They have had some rogue operatives." "Like those who killed Darius." "Yes." "How much do you know about his people?" Nick asked. "A lot. More than I know about yours." Nick didn't reply to this, not sure whether it made him feel better being unknown or worse from not knowing as much as he'd like about Dawson's organization. "How much of a chance do I have?" Natalie asked, drawing both Nick and MacLeod's attention. "I mean, really. I'm a smaller woman and every Immortal we've run into is an average or larger man." "I'd say a good chance. You've already made it, what, nine, almost ten months? And you were lucky to have a friend who could help you, and lucky he could use a sword." Nick stiffened. Dawson had said almost the same thing. Natalie was lucky, and it was him that had helped her survive, by the sound of it. "In a way, you're her first teacher. Most--if not all--Immortals have one. Generally, it's another Immortal." "And that actually works?" Natalie asked incredulously. "I mean the teacher could just--" "Kill their student. It does happen, although most won't waste the time, unless they use the new Immortal." "Use? How would they use..." Natalie started, but she stopped. "I take it some Immortals would help a brand new Immortal if they ran into one?" After getting a nod, she asked, "Bait?" right as Nick said it. MacLeod nodded. "Women and children are seen as easier to manipulate--" "Children?" Natalie said, cutting him off. "So it really doesn't matter how old one is when an Immortal dies the first time?" Nick asked. "No." "Have you--" Natalie started, but cut off when MacLeod nodded. "A couple of times." "The children..." Nick slowly started, eyeing the other man. The few children he had seen brought across, they had been both cunning and deadly. He didn't see an Immortal child easily manipulated. However innocent they might look on the surface, they could learn and grow in other ways. "They can manipulate just as well, can't they?" "They can, yes. Any Immortal can, but it's easier--" "It's easier to manipulate others if you are seen as weaker, an innocent," he finished. "How do you know Natalie and I aren't playing some game with you? Or that any Immortal--" "I don't. Unless it's someone I've met before or I know them by reputation, I have to take them by however they present." "Or what your friend tells you," Nick added. MacLeod reacted, just a little. "And don't tell us you don't talk to him about what you are and other Immortals--it's obvious you do." "Dawson is a friend. And yes, we talk. Sometimes." "Does he help you hunt other Immortals?" "No. I don't hunt other Immortals. Not for sport." "But if someone is hunting you...he'll help you," Nick stated. "To a point. He's a friend, but he's still a Watcher first. He doesn't generally hand out information." Nick narrowed his eyes at the other again. He had the impression Dawson's people weren't allowed to be friends with Immortals; he wasn't sure he trusted Dawson given he seemed to break at least a few rules--and apparently didn't turn in an Immortal hiding in his people's ranks. "Do you have friends who are Immortals?" Natalie asked. "Yes, several. And one is a woman and she's older than your friend." "So I do have a chance, then?" "Yes, you have a chance." "What about me fighting for her?" Nick asked, wondering what MacLeod thought of that. "Is that really even allowed?" "It's...a grey area. Knowing what you are, no, it probably isn't, but--" "Nick can't just warn beforehand that he's a vampire." "No, he probably can't, but it's not abnormal for either a teacher to fight for their student, especially at first, or a friend or spouse to fight for--" "We're not married," Natalie immediately stated, but she did so slowly. "Is that why everyone thinks we're married, because it'd be normal, acceptable, for my husband to--" "It works both ways and...everyone probably thinks you're married because it's clear you're close and you," MacLeod nodded toward Nick, "hover possessively over her." Nick almost pulled away from Natalie at that. Almost. Instead, he just narrowed his eyes slightly and waited. "Some Immortals probably see your actions as fear. It'd make you look more vulnerable, especially for those who challenge whomever they meet." "And the assumption is that Nick is mortal," Natalie added. "I take it Immortals and vampires don't mix much at all? I mean you hadn't ever met--" "I thought they--you--were myths like most everyone else. A product of fiction and fear." "And the invention of photography, the industrial revolution, and the rise of science," Nick added. "More people and a bit less superstition." "So then the modern view of vampires is actually based on your kind?" Nick took a few seconds before replying, "I don't know. Some modern authors have come...a little too close to reality. It's hard to tell what could be coincidence, imagination, and what's not. Or what's the truth, but altered on purpose for that matter. Immortals don't really have a close match in myth, do they?" "No, not really," MacLeod answered, then an awkward pause developed. He broke it, asking Natalie with a grin, "Had you been to Paris before?" "Ah, no, just throughout Canada and the U.S., mostly for medical conferences. Even if I had been to Paris, I probably never would have left the hotel." "I hope he's a good tour guide." Nick stiffened a little at that, but Natalie turned and smiled at him. "Oh, he's done just fine so far, I think." "You've been here before?" MacLeod asked of Nick. "Many times. First as a mortal." "So you would have been here when the cathedral was first being built," MacLeod said, nodding in the direction of the river and Notre Dame. "Yes. Although not for the start, closer to the middle of the original construction." "When were you last here?" "In Paris? Technically a few weeks ago. Before recently...a very brief visit in the late 60s." Nick paused, looking at the other closely. "You seem to live here, at least for the moment. How long so far?" "I don't really know." "And what does that mean?" Nick asked. "It means... I've used the same name for four hundred years. It all--" "Blends together," Nick said with a nod. Some of his distant past did just that--probably partly because he had used his mortal name for so long. "Do most Immortals use the same name?" Natalie asked. "Most, possibly... Quite a few don't. But most either use one name that's the same or if they do completely change their name, it's similar." "And then some completely change their names?" Nick asked and got a nod. "Some." MacLeod paused a few seconds before asking, "How are you with a sword?" "Not good enough." Nick shifted a little, not liking the idea of talking about this. 'Not good enough' was a bit of an understatement. On pure skill, even Natalie was probably better than he was. "Why?" "And your friend, LaCroix?" "Better." "But as your kind don't need swords... If you two would like, I could see what Natalie knows and maybe teach her a few things?" Nick stiffened. While the offer was tempting, he couldn't accept it. Doing training sessions, even one or two, with another Immortal could be dangerous. And LaCroix would certainly find out about it. "It's not a trick." "I don't know. It could be dangerous for you," Nick answered, then he shook his head. "It's not something we can accept, not right now and possibly not at all. It could worsen things, especially for your friend, Dawson." "He wouldn't--" "LaCroix could kill one or both of you. I need to talk to him before accepting any offer or talking to you or your friend again. It'd be different if he hadn't-- If I had known what he'd done, we might not have ever come here." Feeling his panic and worry arise, he added, "And we should leave," as he pulled Natalie gently to the side, turning her. "If the answer to your offer is no, I'll tell Dawson. He'll be able to pass it to you, yes?" "Yeah, he'll be able to tell me." "And please don't ask for our address. LaCroix won't tolerate someone interfering, and I don't know if we'll stay." "Because of him or because of the Immortal following you on your way back to Toronto and then Paris?" Nick stopped and glanced back. He had almost forgotten about that over the last little while. "Both," he answered, then continued to guide Natalie back the way they had come. Once the other man's heartbeat faded, he took another glance back--nothing--and relaxed a little. "Nick..." "How do you think he'll react?" "Me? You're asking me how LaCroix will react to confronting him about killing mortals?" "About convincing him to not kill these Watchers," he specified. "And yes, I want to know what you think." "I think that's going to be hard. We'd have to really reason with him. Point out the fewer Watchers he kills the fewer mortals that know about vampires--and him. It seems like he prefers to remain anonymous, if he can?" Nick zoned out a little, his pace slowing. Reason with LaCroix? Usually his sire always had a counterargument. Unless they agreed, LaCroix would somehow win and do as he pleased, which of course meant he did what he wanted regardless. But that more of these Watchers would know about them--and him--was a good point. "Nick? That was kind of a question..." "If he can," he repeated the last, then nodded. "He'd probably prefer it, yes." "And he seems to want to keep me alive...for whatever reason. He killed--" "He killed the gunman because of what happened to me." "But if he hadn't, I'd be dead and then they still would have both died, right?" Nick slowed even more. "Probably," he muttered, not particularly wanting to admit he would have killed them himself. He knew he would have, though. Right or wrong, it's what he would have done, and between that and leaving for the airport, he hadn't really bothered arguing with LaCroix. "In a way, he saved my life. Even prevented you from doing something you don't want to do--something you don't like to do but he'd trick you into if he had the chance." Nick tensed a little, even as he kept walking. Natalie was right--in the past LaCroix might have used an event like Ramsey going after them to get him to kill. But he didn't and he was there...right there, watching, even interfering. And helping. "And if I learn how to use a sword better...he'd see that as a good thing, right?" Nick could see where she was going with the latest comment, and noted, "And if LaCroix keeps killing Watchers, MacLeod's offer to help you might be taken away." "Exactly. Or worse, he could--" "Go after us or go after LaCroix. If enough of Dawson's people know about vampires, it could provoke some kind of war." "And we would all be in the middle of it." Natalie paused, then glanced around her. "Is he here?" "No. I don't think he was in Paris, perhaps not even in France upon our return. It would have taken him time to return to the city, assuming he even knows we're back." They walked in silence for a few minutes, then he told her, "We really should get back." "Before LaCroix?" "And MacLeod. We are parked outside his home." "I don't suppose we could...zip on over?" "I don't think that's a good idea," Nick said slowly, his mood dropping a bit. "Just because you can't sense someone, doesn't mean we're not being followed." "Our tail." "Yes. Dawson mentioned it, so I think we should expect to perhaps be found. And we've been followed before and I didn't have a clue. I didn't even notice, Nat. LaCroix did." "Because he's been following us the same as them. Probably from the same vantage point at times. Of course *he* saw them. So would you if you were following me from a distance, I'd bet." Nick almost argued, but stopped himself. Natalie was probably right. From a distance, he would be able to see a lot more. And his senses would zone in on anything out of place, certainly anyone also following his target. It might take time, but he'd eventually see them. "So...what did you think about what he said?" Nick had to think a bit, but he didn't know what Natalie was referring to. "About?" he asked, and got shoved playfully. "I'm sorry, I don't know--" "About you hovering over me and--" "Us," Nick finished. "Everyone thinks we're married--everyone has brought it up somehow, too, either assuming or asking or just noting your--" "My possessiveness," he again cut Natalie off. "He was right about that." "You look possessive because you're concerned and because you care, Nick." "And I can overdo it." "But you aren't right now." Nick didn't reply, but to him at least he felt like it. He and Natalie spent almost every moment together; exceptions were when they were in different rooms of whatever home they were in. A couple of times Natalie had left during the day to run an errand, but only if it was close or near where either they lived or Janette was staying. If someone went after her, she could easily go to one location or the other. Janette, however, didn't even yet know Natalie was an Immortal. As Natalie would only go out during the day if he knew exactly where she was going, that meant he had a general idea of where in Paris Janette was staying. It was tempting to just go there, but he didn't want whatever Immortal to follow them to Janette, either. "Point is...well, we could, you know." "Could what?" Nick asked, jolting out of his thoughts. "I thought you'd stopped doing that...stopped zoning out." "Sorry," he automatically apologized. "And the only reason I'd stopped is because I haven't had much to trigger it." "Does that mean you never really lived here? Lived with LaCroix in his apartment or home or whatever it is, that is." "I had only been there a few times before our visit. So no, I don't have many associated memories." Then he paused, trying to piece together his answer to Natalie's question, her suggestion. Before he had zoned out, they had gotten sidetracked... "You mean get married?" Nick asked. "Finally, and yes." "Well..." Nick started, smiling a little. "Pick what you want to do next, where you want to live, what name we want to use, and--" "Oh, no, no, we are not just going to--" "--we can get married then if you want?" he finished, talking over Natalie's protest. "I can get a new identity set up and you can keep yours for a little after. You'll have a few years you can use your old life as a basis for your new one. We haven't really talked about it. I still kill you more often than not when--" "Barely more often than not, and we're talking about it now." He almost stumbled as she shoved him again, but on purpose. "And I think I know what name we both want to use. Your mortal name, right?" Nick slowly nodded. Yes, it's what he wanted. And it had been a while since he last used his mortal name, his real name, as his present name. "I guess start thinking about where to go and when, then." "Where I'd like to go is somewhere away from everything, somewhere away from this, but I'm not sure that's possible." Nick wasn't sure it was, either; but getting away from a city with population in the millions would probably lower the number of Immortals they ran into. Paris, Toronto, London...all were rather large cities. But he feared LaCroix would follow them even if they moved well away from major population centers. And his sire wouldn't have anything to better spend his time on--he'd hover, constantly. It would be something they'd definitely have to talk about, and hopefully they'd be able to without LaCroix listening in. Future Tense - (26/36) "Nick, they're gone, stop pacing," Natalie urged, trying to keep hold of his hand, but he pulled away. Again. It had been three nights--well, three and a half days, as it was now late morning--since she and Nick had met MacLeod and Dawson, and this was now the half-dozenth time she had felt the presence of another Immortal nearby. That had started a day and a half ago while they were out on an errand. It had just been a moment; she had a feeling it had been an accident. The other had just gotten a little too close or had simply happened upon them. Who it was, she had no idea. Was it the same Immortal from the airport? Had that person somehow found them? Or was it someone else? Either way, they had simply chanced upon them, or that's what she hoped. Problem was, they did most of their errands close to the apartment, so a couple of hours later, she had felt something while inside. Whoever it was had followed them home. No one came up to the door, and Nick had told her to go upstairs. He hadn't seen anyone. The same thing had now happened another four times, mostly early that morning, but this last time Nick had just started frantically pacing...and he wasn't stopping. He looked downright panicky. She only felt a little nervous, herself. "Nick, whoever it is, they left. They're gone. I'm sure of it," she said moving in front of him and taking hold of his arms. "For now," Nick muttered and tried to brush her away again. She let her nails dig in and she was thankful when he stopped trying to pull away, to turn around and start walking away from her once again. "We can't do anything right now but wait. We might as well get some sleep." "I won't--" "Yes, Nick, you will." He pulled away from her again, and she lost her grip. As he walked away, she told him, "Just try to calm down. We can't do anything until tonight, unless you want me to try and go out there and--" "No," he said as he spun. "You're not--" "I'm not going to go out there and look for them. Maybe tonight, but--" "No," he repeated and turned away again. "No, you're not going out tonight to try and find them, even with me." "Then what--" "Tonight...tonight, I'll take you to Janette." "And tell her what? We never even told her what happened to me, and--" "I don't know what we'll tell her. We can explain it later, if we have to." "Later," she repeated. "Everything seems to be later." "This has to be because--" "I'm not talking about--" She cut off her response and closed her eyes. "Let's not argue. You're right, Janette doesn't have to know the details right at first, just that I need somewhere safe to stay for a little bit." She then smiled, her thoughts wondering what that conversation would be like. "Can't wait to see her reaction. As long as she doesn't kill me or something." "She won't kill you." "Are you sure?" she asked half-seriously and half-teasingly. "Even once she finds out--" "It'll be fine; she won't be jealous." Natalie didn't reply. With how she had first met Janette face-to-face she somehow doubted there wouldn't be at least a little bit of jealousy or envy or the like from the vampiress. From what she was aware, the two had been married nearly a century and lovers of some sort on and off the entire time Nick had been a vampire...probably even since she had known him. "She won't hurt you. I'm more worried about me. I haven't talked to her since I brought her back across--against her wishes. If our positions had been reversed and she did that to me..." "And she doesn't want to talk to you and even, apparently, threw LaCroix out." "Exactly. And LaCroix has rarely--if ever--bowed to Janette's wishes." "Everything will be fine, Nick. If she's mad at you, I don't think it will last." "I don't know. She had been happy, I think. And I'm the one who took it away." "Janette had been a vampire longer than you have, and I had the impression she liked it." "Liked, past tense." Natalie gave him a half-smile, a sad smile. She still thought Janette would probably be fine seeing Nick. Janette had always--well, except maybe when she had been mortal--given her the impression she very much liked being a vampire. To her, the vampiress had also appeared rather embarrassed that she had gained her mortality when Nick strove so hard and yet couldn't obtain it. "Let's just try to get some sleep, or at least rest. Or you, anyway. I want to get something to drink." He didn't budge, just looked at her, panicked. "If someone breaks in...and I kind of doubt anyone will...you'll be there before I have the chance to call for help. So go. I'll be up in a few." She waited again, and this time he reluctantly left. Once Nick had started toward the bedroom, Natalie headed down a flight to the kitchen. Only once she was inside and sure he wasn't watching did she close her eyes and rub her temples. The line between tiredness, an actual headache, and their invisible stalker had blurred, and she needed a break from Nick's panicking on top of it. Not that she wasn't panicking a little...but stress was something she could handle, at least for a time. She just had to make it to nightfall without keeping Nick awake...or starting some pointless argument with him. She focused on calming herself, and even drank a half-full glass of cold water. The water helped, a little, and she went upstairs to find him lying on the bed with the night's clothes still on. Natalie didn't bother changing, either, and after an hour or more they eventually fell asleep. Or Natalie did. She wasn't sure about Nick, as when she started awake soon after, whether or not he had fallen asleep, that had woken him. She tried to pass it off as nothing, and while Nick didn't argue with her, she didn't think he agreed even as they tried to fall back to sleep. It didn't go as well this time. Nothing or not, it unnerved her. Is this how Nick felt as a vampire when he was hunted during the day? Did he feel this trapped and helpless? She was starting to understand some of his panic, whatever the case. The second time the Immortal teasing them woke her, Natalie didn't react as much. She wasn't sure if that's why Nick didn't wake or he was just pretending. She suspected the former--he wasn't good at pretending to do much of anything when he was stressed--and after seeing it was less than an hour to sunset, she carefully extricated herself from Nick's loose but close grip and left the room. If they were going to Janette's, she needed to eat something, and so after quickly changing clothes, she went to the kitchen. For the moment she felt fine. Rested with no headache of any kind, and after another twenty minutes, she didn't even feel hungry. The idea of seeing Janette seemed less frightening now, or it did until she saw Nick slowly come around the corner for the kitchen. He looked...well, he looked hungry and rather more disheveled than he had earlier that morning. Wordlessly she went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of blood that sat next to a container of orange juice. She almost didn't bother with a glass upon seeing him still there in the doorway, watching her, but she quickly pulled one out and sat it on the counter. Then, uncorking the bottle, she waited until he had walked over to her before filling the glass full. When she picked it up and held it out to him, he didn't take it. "Nick? Should I ask if you got any sleep?" "Some. I don't remember you getting up." "Yeah, about thirty, forty minutes ago. Figured I might as well get dressed and eat. I mean you're going to take me over not long after sunset, right?" He continued to look blankly down at the blood. "Nick?" "Yeah," he said and finally took the glass. He didn't, however, drink from it. He even managed to tear his eyes away from the blood and look up at Natalie. "How many times?" Natalie pursed her lips. "Just twice. M-maybe three times. Right when we went upstairs I'm not sure if they had come back then or not." "And the last time was...?" "Ah, thirty, forty minutes ago or so," she answered even though she suspected he already knew. For a moment, Nick just stared forward, then he downed the glass and handed it back to Natalie. "I'll go change, and then we can leave." "Isn't it a bit too early?" she asked when he turned to leave. "I mean for you. The sun--" "I've gone out in worse; you know that." "But we're not going in a car, right?" "I'll be fine, Nat. I'll be coming back here, and I can get in and out without being seen." She nearly protested...until he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Then he left. She still had the bottle, which she had expected to pour more out of. She took the items back to the counter, recorking the bottle but not putting either it or the glass away. There wasn't much point if Nick was possibly going to come back in what could be mere minutes. And in only a few minutes, they left via a window at the back-side of the building, right up near the roof. Natalie wasn't the fondest of traveling by air like this, but she didn't feel her hunter as they left. Once he had set them back on the ground, Nick just held onto her and stared toward a rather large house. It was a home that stood all on its own--not like LaCroix', which was sandwiched in-between other homes and apartments--on a small, dark street, and it looked rather old. "Is this where we're going?" "If the address you gave me is right." "It's what LaCroix gave me," Natalie said, then she watched as Nick closed his eyes. "Is it?" "I think so." She didn't think he sounded too confident, but he started leading her forward across the small street and toward the front doors, which were up several steps. He knocked, and mere seconds later the door opened a crack. A young woman stared back at them--mostly her rather than Nick--through the slit of an opening. Not Janette, but she somehow knew the young woman was a vampire. "We're here to see Janette," Nick said, and almost immediately the door shut on them. Natalie looked to Nick, and he shook his head. He didn't have any more idea what was going on than she did. Just as she turned back, the door opened again. And this time it opened wider. It was Janette, although the vampiress looked more like she had the last time she had seen her--when she had been mortal--than when she had owned the Raven. "I told him not to tell you!" Janette half-hissed as she stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind her. "He didn't. He--" "He told me," Natalie finished, drawing the other woman's attention. Then she added, "Sort of for emergencies." "Emergencies?" "Let us in, Janette." "This is not the place for her. It's--" "Now, Janette. Let us in," he repeated. "Fine." Natalie felt a bit uncomfortable as Janette once again opened the door, entered the home, and held the door for her and Nick. The young woman that had probably opened the door--she looked to be in her mid to late teens, a child, really--hovered in a nearby doorway. In a moment, another girl, barely older than the first, peeked out from behind her. Both had nice, normal, but revealing dresses on. The door shut behind her and Natalie forced her eyes off the others. "Please tell me this isn't what it looks like," Nick said. "How dare you even ask, Nicolas!" Janette said walking right up to him. "This is a safe place for them; safe from the mortals and safe from our kind." "Then it needs to be a safe place for Natalie, too." "Nicolas--" "Hopefully only for an hour or few." When Janette started to protest again, he said, "I know you let LaCroix stay here. He probably did more damage to them than they will to Natalie." "They could kill her. One second and she'll be--" "I am here, you know," Natalie interrupted. "And I think I'll be okay." "Nick--" "Natalie will be fine. As long as you don't--she'll be fine. I'll explain when I get back." "And where are you going?" Janette asked, grabbing Nick's arm as he turned toward the door. "I'll be back," he said with a quick squeeze of Natalie's hand, and then he pulled the door open and was gone. "Where is he going?" Janette asked again, this time of Natalie. "Ah...hunting," she said as that was probably the best word for it. "Hunting," the vampiress softly repeated. "Hunting...whom?" "Whoever is hunting me," Natalie said, trying to stay vague. Her eyes darted around the old home and she asked, "What is this place, anyway? And who are they?" The last she said nodding to the doorway, which had attracted a third pair of eyes--a young man who looked no older than the other two. "I don't know if you are aware, but when I owned the Raven, I allowed others to stay in the club during the day. Sort of a home for those who needed it. This time...well, I am catering solely to them. I provide them a home and nourishment as long as they don't draw attention to themselves or us and can either pay for their stay or work." "So this is a sort of boarding house?" she guessed. "Of a sort, yes. They are not allowed to bring back those who do not stay here...especially not mortals. You can understand why they're curious." "Probably wondering how I know, too." "Hmm, oui. Even I am curious why you are here." "Nick brought me." "Yes, obviously, but..." The vampiress narrowed her eyes and then she started to slowly circle Natalie. "Something is different about you." "It's been almost a year. Longer than that since--" "Precisely," she said, cutting the other off. "You carry yourself differently...you're not...your fear of us is gone...completely gone." Having fully circled Natalie once, she started again. "But there's more... You look different, but not..." Natalie tensed a bit at that as Janette walked behind her again. She felt less like prey and more like a kid with her grandmother trying to figure out what she could blame on her. Or, well, not her grandmother...she still hadn't gotten used to that. As Janette came back into view, she tried to read her expression, but failed. When the vampiress reached out toward her hair and her neck, she snatched the other's wrist and saw blatant surprise. "You and Nicolas believe no harm will come to you here," Janette said as she pulled free of the light grip, pulling her hand back. "As long as I don't...what?" "I think that would be better to explain later," Natalie managed, although she could see that Janette was growing impatient, frustrated. Her eyes flitted to the doorway with the young vampires that were still watching them. "It's...well, it's a bit complicated," she said with a wince, but suspected Janette would take the answer a bit more readily. And after a moment, it looked like she would. "Where should I wait? I really don't think in front of the door is the best place." Janette momentarily stiffened, but nodded. "Follow me," she said as she started away from the prying eyes. They didn't have far to walk--they headed to a door just off to one side of the entrance that led to a rather spacious bedroom. "You may stay in my room. They should not bother you with the door closed. I will return in a few minutes." Natalie didn't have the chance to protest. As soon as she was inside the room, Janette had left, pulling the door shut behind her. Her seemingly dulled nervousness returned at being left in the other woman's bedroom. A moment later, she heard what was unmistakably Janette's voice, yelling in French. She had learned enough from Nick to know she was trying to get those there in the house--the 'children'--to go back to their rooms. That made her relax a little, at least until Janette returned a couple of minutes after that. Natalie turned just as the door closed again. "Now what is this about Nicolas hunting--" "Not like--he's going to try to figure out who is following us, following me." "So you know someone is following you, but not whom?" "Yes." "You can sense them." "Ah, how do you--" "Because if Nicolas had spotted them, he wouldn't have to try and pick them out. Nor would he leave you elsewhere. Again, you can sense them, yes?" "Yeah, when they get close." "And whoever is after you can sense you." Natalie just stared silently back. Janette was far more perceptive than she had thought. "You *are* different; it's more than just the slight change in your appearance." "And when Nick gets back, one of us will explain." "Fully, or will I have questions?" "Fully," Natalie repeated and waited, but Janette didn't ask any more questions. After well over a minute of silence, she asked, "I don't suppose you know where LaCroix is or when he'll be back?" "No, I do not. I haven't seen him for weeks. How long have you and Nicolas been in Paris?" "Ah, about seven, eight months, I think?" Natalie said and saw the other woman's expression turn to blatant surprise. "Not that whole time in Paris, but that's when we first came here." "And did you know I was here? Did Nick know?" "Most of that time, and yeah." She now saw a rather strange expression appear on Janette's features--a mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. "You wanted Nick to visit." "No," Janette quickly answered, looking away. "No, I didn't want him to visit, but I...I expected it of him." "LaCroix didn't tell Nick where you lived." "No, he told you instead. And he didn't ask you?" "He wanted to, I know he did, but no, he didn't ask. He knew you didn't want to see him, and he didn't want the temptation. I think he expects you to be mad at him, to blame him." "No, I'm not mad at him. I was...at first. But not anymore." Janette looked back over at Natalie with a smile. "You know, I've never actually done this...been a foster parent, so to speak. Not alone, not without somehow causing pain to others." "Why did you?" "Nicolas. After what happened, I came here, stayed in a small apartment." "Why not stay--" "In LaCroix' home? I did not want to stay so close to others, nor did I want to run into him. You and Nick have been staying there, haven't you?" "Yeah." "With LaCroix as well?" "Yeah," she said again and she watched Janette's smile widen. "What?" "Just wondering if I should make a visit once he returns." Her smile vanished. "Nicolas isn't getting himself into trouble, is he?" Now Natalie looked away. She worried he could do just that. He was reacting more to being hunted than she was--and she was the real target. While she knew Nick hadn't meant to kill Carver how he had, she worried he could do something like that again. So, she guessed, did he. "Natalie?" "I hope not. I think--hope--he's just trying to figure out who they are and not going to actually confront them." "Because?" "Because they want to kill me, or likely do," she answered, still not looking up at Janette. "It will make more sense once we explain." "And LaCroix knows whatever it is that you will be explaining?" "Yeah, he's known right from the start." Natalie jumped a little when the other woman was suddenly right in front of her, her hand touching her chin, pulling it up so their gazes met. "You're struggling, aren't you?" "I'm fine." "And Nick? Is he doing better or worse than you are?" "I'm not sure, but you probably shouldn't ask him." "Worse, then. And he's blaming himself for what he did to me, isn't he?" Natalie stiffened. "I thought that maybe he wouldn't, but I suppose it's to be expected." Janette closed her eyes, then turned back to the door for a moment. "Remain here. I need to...deal with something." Natalie stood and watched as Janette left. She heard yelling from somewhere and realized the 'something' was likely two or more of the house's guests. As the door shut, the muffled yelling abruptly cut off and she was left in silence. A clock hung on the wall, but she didn't know when they had arrived at Janette's, let alone how long the trip had taken or when Nick had left. Five, ten, then fifteen minutes ticked by before Natalie crossed the room to sit on a cushioned bench in a corner of the room by some covered windows. She would rather sit there than on the bed, and there weren't any other places to sit. Another twenty minutes passed before she heard footsteps in the hall--heavy footsteps. She tensed, standing just before the door was opened--Janette, followed closely by a rather stressed-looking Nick. Natalie relaxed and asked, "Did you find--" "Not here," he whispered, then turned toward Janette. "How about we all go for a walk?" Janette had reluctantly agreed to the suggestion of taking a walk. Then, once outside and a couple of blocks away, he began to explain. Nick left a few things out, Natalie noticed. He didn't mention Tracy's death, which she thought was a rather large omission, especially if LaCroix hadn't told Janette about that. He had also glossed over some of what had happened in the confusion between Nick killing her that first time and LaCroix leaving the loft, although he left the important bits in...including that LaCroix had been about to kill him when she had awoken. That had elicited an expression of shock and concern from Janette, but she didn't prod or chastise him, for which she was grateful. After that, most of the explanation had focused on her and what she was, beyond a brief mention of the Immortal priest, Darius. Natalie had been faintly surprised when Janette took the explanation without posing many questions or looking overly shocked. The vampiress seemed to be taking it about as well or even easier than she had. Then had come an overview of the last several months...specifically the Immortals they had run into. Nick hadn't glossed over anything this time, not even that her cat had supposedly been given away by one of these other Immortals, nor what he had done to Carver. He had, however, hesitated a touch before explaining that. She knew what he had done bothered him, but it really showed how much now as he explained to Janette. Natalie had seen Janette react to this as well, but she held back. He hadn't yet finished, still having their latest hunter to explain about. They both waited, but he just stopped after saying why he had brought Natalie there and more specifically why he had left. "Nick," Natalie started, "Did you figure out who it is?" He shook his head. After another moment of silence, Janette asked, "LaCroix...does he know everything you just told me?" "Only up to when we returned to Toronto a few weeks ago," Nick answered. "Ramsay." "Yes." "And he knows of this other Immortal you had been trying to contact?" "Yeah, although we only managed that a few days ago," Natalie said. "And you both have swords? Or only one of you?" "Both of us," she again replied. "Hmm, may I see?" A bit surprised by the question, she looked to Nick. He nodded, and she pulled out the sword she had been using--she now kept it with her whenever she left home, including tonight. She simply held it up so that Janette could see. "Nicolas', oui?" "Yeah, it's mine," he confirmed. "So your propensity to hold onto things has paid off this time, hmm," Janette teased with a smile. Natalie noticed he tensed at the comment, and she slipped the sword out of sight to hopefully divert Janette's attention. "And yours, Nicolas?" Natalie watched Nick uncomfortably shift for a moment, then he easily pulled out the sword he had stowed away. This one Janette looked at more closely, but he also hid it away far quicker. "Should I ask how you got through customs?" "We didn't, or not as we should have," Nick replied. "And how long did it take you to figure out how to hide those away?" "Not long after being found and attacked without one on us," he answered. "I think we got lucky." They walked along in silence for a while, until Janette said, "I could help." "No," Nick immediately said. "Whoever is after Natalie might not show themselves if they know or suspect she isn't there--if they don't see her. And it sounds as if it would be simple for them to determine whether or not Natalie is even there--they know or suspect where she lives and they can sense her." "And we know that, Janette." "Either I could try to spot them, or I could stay with Natalie while--" "You want to make her bait?" Natalie momentarily closed her eyes at his growing anger and frustration. "Nick, I'd be all right with that. It might be the only way." "Not yet. I don't want to tip them off that I'm not human. That was a disaster with Carver in Toronto." "I'm bait every single time I go anywhere. The only difference is that we know someone is there--we know someone is watching." Janette waited a moment before asking, "What about this other Immortal you were trying to contact? Do they know--" "He can't help. It's not his place to help, and--" "They can't interfere," Janette finished. "Yes, yes, I remember that, but--" "We're not his friend--far from it, probably," Natalie now interrupted. "And I'm fine with whatever. Whoever it is has no problem following me when I'm with Nick, so I don't think you'll frighten them off." By now they had stopped walking, and this time it was Nick who paused before saying, "Maybe. Assuming LaCroix doesn't show himself first. If he does... If he does, I don't know what he'll do." "He hasn't done anything so far, has he? Other than--" "You know how he is," Nick said, cutting Janette off. "He'll do nothing or he'll force things. He'll lead the Immortal right to us, to Natalie, probably at the worst time." "Then let me help," Janette pleaded. When he didn't answer she said, "I'll come by before dawn. You can--" "No, don't come by. I'll...either Natalie or I will call you sometime by sunset tomorrow. If we don't, then--" "Then LaCroix has returned," Janette finished. "Yes," Nick answered, then closed his eyes. "We should go. I'm sorry for involving you in this." "Never, Nicolas. Never be sorry for protecting someone you care about," Janette said as she faced Nick and gave him a slight smile. Then she leaned forward to give him a kiss, but he turned and she kissed his cheek rather than the corner of his mouth. Leaning in even further, Janette whispered, "Not for what you did for me, and not for anything you do for Natalie." Natalie stiffened a little; while surely meant for Nick and only Nick, she had heard the whispered words. It was what he needed to hear, however, and she tried to relax as Janette pulled away from Nick. "I don't know your phone number or how up contact you," Natalie said, drawing the other woman's attention. "And neither does Nick. I mean he didn't even know your address until an hour or so ago." "Well...do you have more than that weapon stored away in there?" Janette asked him. He rather quickly pulled out a small notebook and a pen, which he handed to Janette as he turned away. Then he waited as Janette wrote down a number. Once she handed the items back and he had stowed them away, he asked, "What is that place, anyway?" "It's...well, Natalie's guess was correct." "And that was?" he asked, turning toward her. "A boarding house, more or less," she answered. "I kind of guessed that much, but what does that mean, Janette?" "I allow others of our kind, mainly the young ones--especially those that are both young in age and appearance--stay with me. In exchange for chores or a small cost, they may stay anywhere from a week to, well, as long as I remain here. Most only stay a couple or few weeks--until they arrange accommodations of their own--but there are two who have stayed here from the start." "And you're being careful?" Nick asked. "Of course. As would I hope--and know--you are being. If I hear they are causing issues, whether here with me or elsewhere, they are either warned or that is the end of their stay." Nick slowly nodded, then said, "We'll call, either tonight or early tomorrow night," before starting closer toward Natalie. "Nicolas? Will you two be remaining in Paris?" Natalie looked to Nick just as he looked toward her, and she answered, "Ah, we really haven't decided." "We'll let you know if and when we leave," Nick said, then took Natalie's hand in his and started to walk away from both Janette and her home. Once sure no one was watching them, they left in a dark blur. Natalie just kept her eyes closed, as she usually did. It didn't take long to return home; they entered the way they left, through an upper floor. Natalie asked if LaCroix was there, but according to Nick, he wasn't. Descending the stairs, right as they started toward the second floor, Natalie shut her eyes again. "They're still watching, aren't they?" She nodded. "Yeah, someone is there," she said as she stopped going down the steps. "Why don't we just go out there and see if we can spot them?" "Nat--" "Come on, I need to go to the store and you'll be going with me, regardless. If we walk...you can whisk me back here or to Janette's if things get weird." "And if they decide to stop stalking you?" "Then..." Natalie started, but paused, pursing her lips for a moment. "Then it will be dealt with one way or another." Nick didn't like that--she could see it in the way he cowered back slightly--and she told him, "Something could happen at any time. I already realized that and have kind of come to terms with it. I can't hide; I can't and won't shut myself in twenty-four hours a day just because someone is looking for me." She watched him turn away to go back upstairs, but he just stood there, thinking. "And here or Janette's aren't the only places we could go." "Holy ground," Nick whispered. "Yeah. Maybe they'll show themselves there. Maybe they're not even hunting me but as scared as--" "No, whoever this is...their intentions aren't good." "You've been followed like this before," Natalie stated, realizing, and she guessed, "LaCroix." "A couple of times. Usually he'll show himself soon after finding me, but a couple of times I've felt him there, following me for weeks. A long time ago, when I was better at sensing his whereabouts...when I was as good at it as he was at finding me. This Immortal isn't following you out of curiosity or hesitancy, but to study you and manipulate you...both of us. And it's working." Before Nick could start up the stairs, Natalie moved so that she was blocking his way, standing a couple steps up from him. Yes, this was bothering Nick more than it was her. "You are not being manipulated, and neither am I. You've been there often enough that you won't let them. Whatever they're really trying to do, Nick, it's not working, okay?" He just stared up at Natalie for several seconds before nodding. "All right, we'll go. And..." "And?" "And I'm sorry for that, for what Janette did." "Don't apologize for something she did. If I try to or do kiss you in front of Janette, I hope you don't apologize to her," Natalie said, trying to keep her tone teasing with a smile. "And you didn't have to turn away." "I did have to turn away, Nat. I wouldn't have been able to resist if she had really kissed me." "You mean like this?" she asked as she leaned forward rather like Janette had, except that when she kissed Nick she touched his cheek in case he turned away, and the kiss was far more than a gentle peck. When he didn't pull away, she deepened the kiss until his fangs pricked her tongue and the familiar metallic taste of her blood mixed with saliva. Their kiss deepened for a moment, and then he pulled away. His eyes were a deep and hungry gold. "Hmm?" "Yes," Nick managed, his eyes slipping to Natalie's neck for a moment before he turned away. "Are they still there, still nearby?" "I think so. It fades a little after a bit, so it's hard to tell for sure." "But you'll know when we leave?" "I think so." "I...before we go, I need something to drink," he muttered before heading back down the stairs and to the kitchen. Natalie followed, but stayed back. The glass and bottle from earlier sat right where she had left them, looking no different. He hadn't drank anything when he had come back to look for her unwanted shadow. She didn't say anything; instead she tried to smile slightly. In a couple more minutes, after assuring one another that they were both okay with going out right then while they were being watched, they left. Out on the street Natalie felt the other Immortal again. Their presence hit all over again, so at some point they must have moved far enough away that she wouldn't have been able to feel them. It made her wonder a bit if there was really any specific distance that triggered it, even though she definitely knew distance played some role...and so did their watcher. "Try to head toward them." "What?" Natalie asked even though she had heard Nick clearly. Go toward her hunter? That was the last thing she wanted to do. "Let's see what happens if we try to confront them," Nick whispered. "If we can pick them out that way." She hesitated, even though she had to admit she was curious what would happen. It's not something they had tried as of yet, not deliberately, but this being constantly watched and now followed was getting old. "Okay, although I'm not sure I can actually do that." "Just try and try not to look scared or nervous. And lead the way a little bit." Natalie understood the reasons behind Nick's instructions, but it was new to her and not feeling--or surely looking--at least a little bit nervous just didn't feel possible. Regardless, she nodded faintly in reply then tried to think what direction the other Immortal would most likely be in. Making a guess, Natalie abruptly turned around, pulled away from Nick, and started scanning for anyone acting out of the ordinary. Nothing. It didn't stop her from continuing forward without Nick, but after a half dozen steps she had the feeling that the other Immortal had moved out of her range. "Nat?" Not ready to give up, she spun and started back toward and then headed past where Nick had stopped. Still nothing. "Natalie?" "Gone, I think. Or at least not as close." She looked around at the couple of dozen people walking along around them. Too busy, too early in the evening to really spot a single person among many. She jumped a little when Nick touched her arm and took her hand. "Come on. Let's go to the store as planned. If you feel them again, just squeeze my hand, pinch me, whatever to let me know." Natalie gave Nick a faint smile, then started back on their path. As they walked she felt more comfortable, more sure that the Immortal had either ceased following them or at least backed off significantly. In fact, for the remainder of the way to their errand and then back home she didn't feel so much as a twinge that might hint that they had gotten a little too close. She didn't feel any better, however. They still had no idea what this Immortal looked like, let alone what they wanted. Or if they'd be back. Once back home, it took a few tries before Nick agreed he'd call Janette the following night and accept her offer of help...assuming LaCroix didn't pop up before then, as Nick of course then reminded her. Almost a full day away. Natalie didn't look forward to another day of being woken every couple of hours, but at least by trying to start after the other Immortal, they now knew the other wasn't yet ready to confront them...but not why or when they finally would. Future Tense - (27/36) "You haven't heard from them?" MacLeod asked Dawson. It had been a week and a half, almost two weeks since their talk with Natalie Lambert and her friend, and the two hadn't tried to talk to either himself or Dawson. He had kind of expected the two would have by now. A week, maybe...not almost two. "And none of your people--" "We haven't put someone on her. Frankly, it's going to be difficult to find someone. Ideally they need to already know what her friend is--they need to know about vampires--and other than the Watchers of the Immortals they've run into...well, the pool is quite small. Carver's Watcher resigned. Holt's has already been reassigned. Same with Mitchell Lane's. Ramsay's might be willing, but she knows what happened and even saw some of it, and she wants assurance she won't be killed...which we can't do." "What about their latest--" "Their tail. Still there. They haven't done anything to tip off her Watcher that Knight is anything other than mortal." "Her Watcher? It's a woman who's after them?" "Looks like it. And she's just watching them for now. Tracked them to their home--or, more likely, simply stumbled on them--tried to follow them." "Tried?" Dawson smiled. "They turned on her, scared her off for a time. I don't think they've spotted her as of yet, but it's difficult to say. It sounds like they've made multiple attempts to figure out who and where the Immortal is hiding. A woman has been seen with Natalie, I think perhaps the woman, the vampire, connected to Knight and LaCroix. But the Immortal watching them hasn't gotten very close to them for the past week, not even when Natalie went out alone. Or seemingly alone." "But she's still following them?" Dawson nodded. "And her usual method?" "She tries to gain the other Immortal's trust--particularly other women--and then attack when their guard is down. Or usually." MacLeod just stared forward a moment, remembering the conversation he had had with the pair, and he didn't think either of them could be tricked easily. Knight seemed expert at suspicion, and he suspected his friend had picked up on that trait of his as well. Forget that if the woman was going after Natalie because she was female...with a male friend lingering around, he didn't know why the woman hadn't given up already, although it might be why she was still watching and hadn't acted. "I don't think that is going to work on those two." "No, it probably won't." "Is this Immortal why they haven't given you an answer?" "Perhaps, but I think that has more to do with their acquaintance; until LaCroix is here, they don't have an answer to give." Dawson paused before adding, "And I don't think he's here, unless he's kept out of sight. All of their answers hinge on talking to LaCroix--if they even talk to him. He did say it could take a little while." "It's been almost two weeks." "And LaCroix killed three Watchers and another man. At least." "And if Knight chooses to tell him, you could be next, Dawson." "And I know that. And if he takes longer to decide what to tell us, even if he decides not to tell the other, that's fine with me." MacLeod didn't like not knowing, but if Knight and Lambert were still thinking what would turn out the best--and fewer people unnecessarily died as a result--that was fine with him. "The woman following them...what do you think she'll do?" "Probably just disappear, but she usually doesn't stick around as long as she already has." "Probably hoping Natalie will go somewhere on her own. Or perhaps during the day, if she hasn't." Dawson nodded as he took in a deep breath. "She can hold her own, though, and she's smart--they both are if their last jobs are any indication--but even on her own she won't fall for this Immortal's trick. Especially not after talking to us. She knows it happens; probably already imagined it considering her work." MacLeod's thoughts had already started forming into a sort of plan. It sounded as though this Immortal would leave the two alone once determined they would not be tricked...or that it might be too difficult or dangerous. True, Natalie wasn't alone, but to the other Immortal, Nick would appear to be mortal...and not really a threat. "And this Immortal is still following them, watching them?" "Yes. Not as much at night, but--" "But she'd probably be watching right now?" Getting a nod, MacLeod further asked, "And Knight and Lambert? They home?" "Still staying where they have been, that I'm aware." Now MacLeod stood. "Why?" Smiling, MacLeod said, "I'm going to go over there." "That's not a good idea, Mac," Dawson said as he stood and moved slightly between MacLeod and the door. "If LaCroix isn't here in Paris, as in not there with them, it'll be fine," he said, passing off the other man's concern and starting toward his coat. "If he's not there. There's no guarantee that's the case." "But none of your people have seen him." "None of us saw him kill the three Watchers, either. We didn't have any sightings of him at all in England or Belgium--or on their trip to Toronto, for that matter--and Holt's Watcher was killed in London. He could easily be here in Paris and at that address." "And if I show up there, it might be enough to get this other Immortal to either come out of hiding or stop following them." MacLeod waited for a counter, but none came. "And this LaCroix already probably knows who I am, knows my name and where I live. Even if he is there...I get the impression he'll spy on me at some point. Might as well see this friend of Darius myself if I can." Dawson shook his head, but he smiled slightly. "If he is there, he might not even show himself. And while I'm not sure about either Knight or Lambert, I have a feeling I'd rather have them there when or if I do run into him, right?" "Yeah, probably," Dawson admitted. "Just...be careful if you're really going to go over there." MacLeod smiled and finally grabbed his coat, then spun a little so that he faced Dawson for a moment before he left for the door. "Don't worry, Joe, I will." He just saw the other man tense before he turned and left. Dawson clearly still worried that going to see the two was the wrong choice, but he couldn't stop him. He had asked and eventually gotten their address...almost a week earlier. While not secluded, the home was just another entrance into a larger building, although it sounded as though the residence wasn't an apartment--they were the only ones that used that particular street entrance. But as others' homes were immediately to either side, the Immortal stalking them probably didn't want to draw any more attention than necessary. They wouldn't be able to train there in the home, either, not with neighbors on either side. That surprised him a little--a vampire living so very close to mortals...to his obvious prey. True, by what Dawson described and what he had deduced from the files he had read, Knight didn't sound at all like a stereotypical vampire, but he wasn't sure that meant anything. MacLeod felt even less sure of that at that moment when Knight was about to have an unexpected guest at midday. One of the few things that seemed quite clear was that vampires couldn't go outside during the day. Vampires were very much nocturnal, and MacLeod had a feeling Knight wouldn't be at all thrilled to be woken during the day. That thought almost made him start back inside. It wasn't Knight that he was concerned about waking, but this LaCroix. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nick rolled Natalie onto her back as she smiled up at him. He knew why--he hadn't either killed her or even made her pass out this time. In fact, he had barely taken any of her blood at all, and he smiled back at her just before kissing her oh so warm lips. A moment later, Natalie pushed up at Nick and she sat up. "Nat?" "That was too good to go uninterrupted," she muttered back. "They're back," he guessed. "Let's just go back to sleep--actual sleep." Nick didn't answer, nor did he lie back down as Natalie did. Whether or not this Immortal wanted to kill Natalie, they were making her more complacent...unconcerned. He didn't like that. While he sometimes didn't like his instinctual reactions--most of the time, really--they had saved him. Natalie's ability to sense other Immortals was more than instinct. It was a warning, one that he didn't think was good to ignore. Before he could tell her what he thought, the doorbell rang, startling them both, but especially Natalie. "I'll go," he said without much thought, and he rolled out of bed, where he quickly pulled on the lounge pants and t-shirt he had on when he had initially gone to bed. Natalie grabbed his hand as he started to leave the room. The doorbell rang again. "Nat--" "Let me check who it is," she said, letting go of Nick's hand and going for her own discarded clothes--just a t-shirt--then she too got out of bed. Natalie picked up Nick's favorite, satin robe--one of the few things he had brought from Toronto--and pulled it on as she left their bedroom. Nick followed her down a flight and toward a window. He didn't try to look out as she peeked around the drapes. "Damn it," she said as the doorbell rang again, a couple of times in a row. "What?" "MacLeod." Nick shut his eyes at that as Natalie's light footsteps started away further down the stairs. He waited a moment before following, then upon reaching the second door he quickly ducked into the kitchen and grabbed one of the swords he kept stashed there. Resuming down the steps, he caught a strange look from Natalie--something between disapproval, surprise, and he supposed resignation of some sort. When it came down to it, he didn't fully trust MacLeod. They had only meet the once, and however alike Natalie thought they were, that didn't exactly comfort him. Finally coming to a stop on the ground floor, Nick stayed back, well out of the way of any sunlight that might come in when Natalie opened the door. Then he waited, tensing as she unlocked the deadbolt. A moment later, bright late morning sunlight filtered inside. Nick could only somewhat see their visitor, but even recognizing that it was indeed MacLeod--and only hearing one steady heartbeat other than Natalie's that close--he didn't relax. "May I come in?" MacLeod asked and Natalie turned toward Nick. While he didn't want the other man there, at least LaCroix wasn't there and he nodded. A few seconds of shuffling later, MacLeod was inside and the door had been resealed against the sun. "You won't be needing that," MacLeod said, glancing toward the sword in Nick's hands. He loosened his grip a little, but instead asked, "Why are you here?" "Are we alone?" "It's just me and Natalie," Nick said, then repeated, "Why are you here?" "Just thought I might be able to help with the Immortal observing you." Nick stiffened again. MacLeod apparently knew something about their tail...certainly more than he and Natalie did. Even Janette hadn't been able to help them pinpoint the Immortal. She hadn't seen anyone following them when he and Natalie had gone for a walk...twice, nor had switching places worked. After Janette had suggested for a third time that Natalie go somewhere on her own he had finally agreed...but even that failed to get her stalker to show themselves. Nick kept his gaze even on MacLeod, then he guessed, "Your friend, Dawson. He told you who it is." "Yes, Dawson told me." "And? What do they want?" Natalie asked. "Probably an easy target...to catch you off your guard." "And you thought coming here might help, because...?" Nick prompted, suspecting what the answer might be. "They want someone vulnerable, someone--" "Someone without any Immortal friends," Natalie cut off, guessing. "If they see another Immortal hanging around, that tells them I'm not the only one they'll have to trick." "What do you know about this Immortal?" Nick asked. "To be honest, not much. It's a woman." MacLeod paused, then continued, "I don't know and didn't ask her name, just her method...why she might be following you, especially this long." Nick hadn't expected it would be a woman, but in a way it made sense. Their extreme caution now didn't seem as unusual, and he knew he had primarily looking for a man...so had probably Natalie and even Janette. No wonder they hadn't been able to spot anyone. "And is she after Natalie?" "Probably, or that was probably her plan." "Was...did she see you? I mean just now, just outside?" Natalie asked. "I didn't see her, but she's close." "You sensed her," Nick started. Receiving a nod he asked, "Did you try to--" "I tried." "But nothing?" Getting another nod, Nick said, "Just like when we've tried. They disappear. Or she disappears, apparently." "And you think she'll leave?" Natalie asked. "And then what, she moves on to some other--" "As long as she keeps running without showing herself...yes, that is likely what will happen." Watching, listening to the other, Nick could tell MacLeod had strong feelings about this. "You don't like what this Immortal is doing." "I don't like anyone that tricks others to get ahead, betrays the trust of someone who is only trying to help them." Nick looked away at the answer; he was more familiar with the side of being tricked, of having his trust used against him. Not wanting to talk about it or be accused of using the same tactic as a vampire--he hadn't, not really or not recently, but others had--Nick asked, "Is that the only reason you're here?" "Have you decided what or if you're going to tell your friend about my offer or Dawson's people?" "Not...entirely. I want to try, but I don't know when." "He hasn't come back or by yet?" "No, and I have no idea when he'll return or when I'll talk to him," Nick said, a bit frustrated. "I'm sorry, but I don't know. When I do, I'll either call Dawson or Natalie and I will come by your place. It'll depend on whether I tell LaCroix about the Watchers...mortals that may or may not be seeing more than they should." "Watchers all have a tattoo on their wrists, here," MacLeod said, holding one hand up and pointing to his wrist. "Dawson didn't tell you?" "No." "And I don't remember him having a tattoo there," Natalie added. "Well...actually, I don't know if he got a new one, yet." "A new one?" Nick asked. "Several months ago I made him chose between our friendship and being a Watcher...he left, had the tattoo removed." Nick ever so slightly winced, knowing that had to have been painful. "But he's--" "Back in. Told him to if he could." "He doesn't play by his people's rules. He told you--" "Dawson told me because he had to. He didn't just come up and tell me, or tell me the moment I showed up with one of their chronicles, a book with one of their accounts of an Immortal from centuries ago." "So you knew before he told you?" Natalie asked. "I knew something--and he knew it. Darius was who had had the chronicle; I found it in the church after his death. I translated enough to know what it was before I ran into Dawson. He didn't have much choice but to tell me; although, again, it wasn't right at first. He didn't even know what was happening...didn't believe it." Nick's gaze drifted a little. "How long have you known what your friend here is?" Locking onto Natalie, Nick saw her stiffen and he answered, "Almost seven years now." "Did you just tell her what you are?" MacLeod asked "No. I woke up on her table," Nick answered, knowing he had already told MacLeod about that. "I was a medical examiner," Natalie said. "And I'd guess you didn't have much choice but explain, either." "No," Nick answered, now understanding more about what the other man had just explained. Natalie had been persistent...so had MacLeod when it came to Dawson, he suspected. MacLeod paused, then with his eyes on the sword in Nick's hand he asked, "Is that yours or--" "It was Ramsay's. It's...extra," Nick carefully answered. It wasn't the sword he had been using, but one they had decided to keep in the apartment. "Natalie is using an old sword of mine." He watched MacLeod stir a little; he moved slightly closer and seemed to relax. Tired and wanting their visitor to leave, he asked, "Is there something else you came here for? It's rather late in the morning and--" "I'm keeping you from sleeping." "You could say that." "Just one question...what will your decision be? If you explain everything, will you take my offer?" "To give Natalie some lessons?" Nick asked and received a nod. "That will depend upon how LaCroix reacts. Assuming I don't make the wrong choice by telling him...yes, I think we'll take your offer. Just...don't come by here again." He moved a little closer, making sure he would still be out of the path of any direct light that would come through the door. "You'll get an answer--I promise you'll get an answer--it just might take a little while." "And it'll be through Dawson?" Nick hesitated. He had thought about this a bit and wondered whether LaCroix would somehow force his hand. If LaCroix pushed him to take MacLeod's offer or otherwise wanted to see or spy on MacLeod, he wouldn't risk calling Dawson. "It... Maybe, but again, we might just show up at your place. If I do, know that we're likely being watched." Glancing over to Natalie, he gave her a nod and he watched her step back to the door and prepare to open it. "I do hope to see you again, but if we do..." "Be careful?" "And act and speak carefully," Nick stated, not even blinking until the other turned away. "Is that a warning or a threat?" He smiled a little, almost smirked. "Maybe a bit of both...but mostly the first. If you are trustworthy, you have nothing to fear from me. But, again, don't spread around what I am. Anyone who knows is in danger, and if just one person tells..." He trailed off, not wanting to actually make this one a threat, even though it was. While he wouldn't go so far as to tell, he'd have to deal with it. "Our secret is very carefully kept. Those who spread it--whether mortal or vampire--are stopped at *any* cost. Make sure anyone who knows what I am knows that." Looking to Natalie again, he told her, "Nat, open the door. It's time for our guest to leave." MacLeod almost said something, but he glanced to the two practically flanking him, then vanished into the light. Nick closed his eyes as Natalie shut the door. "Nick--" "I had to make sure he knew the kind of danger he could be in, and I don't want to mention it with LaCroix listening in. Whatever we say to LaCroix, I don't want to mention anyone beyond Dawson, MacLeod, and the Watchers he killed." He watched Natalie open her mouth to protest, but she then just pursed her lips. "Whatever happens, I don't want them harmed. I never want anyone to get hurt." "And you're still okay with--" "Taking his offer?" Getting a nod, he said, "Yes. I think it would be good to get his thoughts on how you're doing. I get the impression he's had other students before." "And LaCroix seems to have lost his interest. Or something." "Something," he agreed, turning and starting toward and then up the stairs. Once to the kitchen, he hooked the sword on the small section of wall around the corner just inside the entrance to the kitchen. It was out of sight of anyone entering--even leaving if they just came in and out. Turning, he found Natalie tugging him more forcefully around, but her expression wasn't playful like he hoped it might be. She looked worried. "Should we leave?" Nick considered a moment, literally just a few seconds, but knew the answer immediately. "No. If we simply leave while LaCroix is gone...it will only anger him. It will make things worse. He could check for himself if MacLeod is here." Closing his eyes and bowing his head, he whispered, "I wish I knew where he was or when he'd come back." "If he followed us to Toronto--" "He didn't. I would know if he did, and he would have congratulated me on giving into what I am when I--" He shook his head. "He wasn't there, Nat. And if he was here, he would have said something by now. We've been back almost two weeks." "So he's been gone at least that long, possibly as long as we have." "Possibly," Nick muttered, remembering the previously stocked kitchen...which upon their return had been far emptier. LaCroix wouldn't have thrown anything out immediately, he didn't think. He took in a deep breath, then slowly released it. "I don't want to think about LaCroix. He'll come back when he comes back. We can't do anything until then beyond practice when we can and--" "And hope the Immortal following me goes away." "Sooner rather than later, especially if you might want to leave." "Only if it would be better. I still have no idea what I want to do. I suppose I could teach, but if we're going to start a new life, I'd have to have passable medical credentials, or at least an applicable degree, and--" "Nat, we'll figure it out. It'll be a simple phone call once we know what we want, and again, you might not need new ones just yet." "Yes, but...what *we* want, Nick." "I don't really care, Nat. If you want to teach, I have no problem doing the same. I even like the idea a little, although we'd probably be in separate buildings, separate departments. You'd have to be ready to be on your own, or we'd have to try and stagger our schedules." "Something to think about." "Yes, something to think about," he repeated. "But later," he added. They couldn't move until LaCroix came back, and it might be better to hold off on any plans until they had an idea what MacLeod's offer actually entailed. If he could help them, help Natalie, if at all possible he wanted to stay at least a little while. If they could. Future Tense - (28/36) "Where have you been?" Nick asked when LaCroix abruptly returned one morning acting as though he had never been away. Worse, this was the second time he had asked, and LaCroix just walked away from him. Again. "LaCroix--" "It's been some time since I've been in Europe...I had some business I figured that, while you were gone, I would take care of." "We left Paris six weeks ago." "And I did not leave right away, Nicholas! I waited over a week, even tried to call you...your phone seemed to have been disconnected." Nick winced...he had forgotten about that. Everything he and Natalie had done on their short stay in Toronto had been in person. And if LaCroix had waited a week, he may have left just before their return. "And you also didn't call to tell me when you might be returning. For all I knew you had decided to move back to the new world. In case you had, I really needed to do a few things." While he still wanted to know just what LaCroix had done, he didn't want to make the other angry. Right now his sire was merely annoyed at his questions. "You haven't made any unwelcome changes, have you?" LaCroix asked as he entered the kitchen. Nick followed cautiously behind, watching the other man first check the refrigerator and then the cupboard, going as far as opening a bottle of the blood in each and taking a whiff. "Satisfied?" "With this," LaCroix said, raising the still open bottle from the cupboard. He next pulled out a glass and filled it rather full before drinking some and then topping it off again. Nick narrowed his eyes at the other man's odd behavior--odd for LaCroix, anyway--and he turned so that he faced Natalie. She stood near the table with her empty plate from breakfast just watching. She clearly sensed something was off and he glanced to the plate and then shook his head. A moment later it had been set noiselessly back down on the table, and she took a couple of steps toward him, but her eyes remained on LaCroix. Nick's attention returned to LaCroix when he heard blood again pour into a newly empty glass. It was unusual for his sire to need this much blood...he never let himself become famished, not of his own will. He had no problem killing for blood. "LaCroix--" "Save your questions; I will not answer them." After pushing the cork back into the bottle's opening, LaCroix finally turned away from the counter, his gaze eventually landing on Natalie. "How was your...trip?" "The first Immortal we met, Carver, was waiting at my place," Nick said. He expected LaCroix to laugh, but rather he almost showed concern. "He figured out what I am, used it against me." Now he saw anger flicker in LaCroix' eyes, and the other man took a deep drink of his glass. "So he now knows about--" "Carver is dead. He can't tell anyone now, and I don't think he told anyone before we arrived." "Good. Any other trouble?" This time Nick hesitated, even considered lying, but Natalie had stiffened. "Nicholas..." "We picked up a tail at the airport," he admitted. "And they followed us here or found us here." "Here? As in--" "Here. I'm sorry, I had to see Janette," he admitted and watched the other man expectantly tense even further. "And I had to tell her what Natalie is. Even with Janette's help, we couldn't pin down who it was." "Did you deal with it?" "They gave up, or so we believe. So yes, it's dealt with." "I would not call that--" "They won't be back, LaCroix. And they didn't see what I am." LaCroix slowly drank the remainder of the blood in his glass, then he asked, "And did you find--" "MacLeod. Yes." "And?" "And he's here in Paris. We just missed him." "And did he try to kill her?" LaCroix asked with a glance back to Natalie. "No, he didn't try to kill me." LaCroix narrowed his eyes and turned back toward his son. "There's something else..." He simply stared back for a moment, trying to read the other. His sire seemed calmer now, so he admitted, "We ran into a mortal friend of his in the States." "And?" "And he was here in Paris waiting for us at MacLeod's barge upon our return." He paused before adding, "Alone." "He knows what his friend is." Nick nodded, even though it wasn't a question. "He knows a lot about Immortals in general." "He knew I was one, probably the first time we met," Natalie said as LaCroix turned to her. "And he knows who I am, who I was," Nick started, then after a pause added, "What I am." "This mortal knows--" "He knows a lot, LaCroix. He even knows about you, probably even about Janette. The same with MacLeod." "Damn it Nicholas!" LaCroix hissed, setting the glass down. Nick winced expecting the sound of breaking glass, but it didn't shatter on impact with the counter. That was a good sign. Despite the bad news and that LaCroix was undoubtedly still hungry or at the very least a bit on edge, he was still very much in control. No longer quite calm, but not as angry as he could be. "When did you talk to them?" "About a month ago." "So this Immortal and his mortal friend have known all this time...and you have done nothing? You should have--" "I should have, what, snapped the mortal's neck?" Nick finally spit out, but rather than become downright furious, the other man merely stiffened. LaCroix hadn't wanted him to know. This was about as good a reaction as he could expect, and he continued, "I know you killed more than Ramsay's driver. Three more--at least. And so do both MacLeod and his friend. And they know it was you." "I didn't have a choice!" LaCroix said as he looked away, first to Natalie and then away from both of them. "They had seen and when they saw me...they knew. They tried to run. I had to kill them, Nicholas. They would have screamed for help for anyone to hear or run to tell of vampires and sword fights and beheadings. They all had cameras...proof. You know how that works. I wouldn't have been able to make them forget and you know it." "They didn't need to forget." "I had no choice! I had to kill them to protect--" "They were historians!" Nick yelled back, forcing his sire to face him. "Those you killed watch Immortals and record their lives, where they live, who they kill, who kills them. They call themselves Watchers and that's *all* they do...watch. You did *nothing* to protect either Natalie or myself. Or yourself, for that matter." "What does that mean?" Nick hesitated, glancing away for a moment before explaining, "MacLeod's friend is one of them. It's not a threat, but they know it wasn't a mortal or an Immortal that killed them. It was me or you who broke their necks, and if more of their people turn up dead, I have a feeling that eventually so will we." "They would not dare try to kill us." "If mortals started killing vampires, wouldn't you see that those responsible died?" Natalie asked. "Oh, wait, I know you would. You've done it before. Of course they would dare try, and since you've been sneaking around, they won't go after you first. They'll go after Nick. They'll hunt him and--" "Enough!" LaCroix said turning at Natalie. Immediately Nick shoved LaCroix back until his back was against the refrigerator. "A rogue group of them killed your friend, Darius. You don't want them against us, against vampires. We're not like those they watch and research. Our existence is tightly kept even among their people. They know what would happen." "They should be killed. You should have killed the mortal you--" Nick gave another shove to LaCroix, causing the appliance behind him to rock and something inside to fall over. "If you kill any more of them and they come after us...we're all dead, LaCroix. You won't be able to keep it quiet. Even the Enforcers won't be able to keep it quiet. And if anything happens to his friend, MacLeod will come after us, after you. He knows where we live." "Then we should leave. Now." Nick held LaCroix still as he struggled, eventually letting go to avoid overly angering the other. "We're not leaving." "Nicholas..." "MacLeod offered to teach Natalie, or at least see what she's capable of. She needs to know all she can if she has a chance." "Of course she has a chance. She's survived this long...even managed to kill one of them herself." "You don't know everything," Natalie interrupted, drawing their attention. "I probably don't even know everything yet, but apparently in the end there will only be one, and that probably isn't going to be me." "Nat--" "Shut up, Nick." He pulled back a little, surprised at Natalie's anger even though she was still focused solely on LaCroix. "I will die at some point, either be killed by some Immortal or who knows what happens if I'm the last. I might become mortal...I still die. If I can't make Nick mortal as well, he loses me slowly rather than quickly." "And?" LaCroix asked. "And? I thought you liked screwing with Nick's emotions. The longer I live, the worse it'll be for him, and the more I learn, the more Nick will, too. The better he'll be able to blend in and win on skill rather than strength. Or he won't have to fight at all." Nick watched as Natalie backed away toward the entrance to the kitchen, and with a muttered apology, she was gone. Not long later he heard the front door open then slam shut. He was stunned and for a moment just stood there, then he started to leave as well. "Leave her." Nick stopped, hand on the door frame, and turned back to LaCroix. "No. I'm not leaving her." He paused, bowing his head a moment. He didn't want to just leave, and he said, "Just...please, LaCroix, don't dismiss my request." "What request?" "Not to kill any more of them. If you kill MacLeod's mortal friend or those he works with, not only will he likely come after you, but he won't help us. And if you don't kill any more of them...they won't really learn anything more about you, nor will they try to research your past. Now...I'll be back. Just think about that while I'm gone." "Be back before sunrise, Nicholas." Nick had already started to the stairs and he didn't reply. They would only be back at sunrise if that's what Natalie wanted, if she was ready, and he hurried outside only to stop even before the door had shut the whole way. She was right there, sitting on the steps. "Nat? Are you okay?" "Not really." He stepped down a few steps, then went to sit. "No, no, I was just waiting for you. Let's...go for a walk." Having already more or less sat down, Nick had to stand, then he helped her up. "Nat--" "Let's just walk for a bit at first." Nick nearly protested, but nodded. She wanted to be away from the apartment--and LaCroix--before she talked. Once they were a couple of blocks away, she asked, "How badly did I mess up?" "Not badly, I don't think." "Not badly? I told him what even you won't do." "But you used reason and truth and what he's been trying to emphasize for months, or things that make sense to him. You didn't mess up, Nat." "But what I said...you'll outlive me, Nick. No matter what happens, you'll still..." "Shh, Natalie--" "I will die and you'll end up watching it. And, again, even if by some miracle I'm the last one and, I don't know, we're both mortal..." She shook her head. "I'm not even sure that's possible, but if it is...I apparently can't have children and I have a feeling that's not going to be something that can be easily reversed--" Nick stopped walking and turned her to face him, but she wouldn't look up. "Nat, don't worry about my feelings, and don't worry about disappointing me. You won't." "But until a few weeks ago I thought there was a chance you could have everything you lost out on--" "Nat, I made a choice. I didn't 'lose out' on a normal life--I threw it away. If right now is as close to normal as I'll get, I'll take it. Anything else is a bonus for me. But for you..." Natalie tried to pull away from him, but he held her arms in place. "You found out from a stranger you were adopted, and we haven't even talked about it." "I'm not sure there's anything to say. If anything, it explains a few things." "But...I saw your disappointment, Nat." "My disappointment wasn't about that, but that what I am isn't some...rare gene mutation or something, and that I could figure out what caused it and--" "And reverse it." "Yeah. It blew away a theory. The best one I had. And I know what that means. Even if I can find a cure for you...you won't take it, will you? Or not unless I have one for both of us?" "And I've told you, I'm okay with waiting." "You were ready to die just so you wouldn't hurt anyone again. Instead you are killing for me and--" "And it's different." "I'm not sure William Carver would agree." Nick shut his eyes and let go of Natalie's arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean--" "I'm not going to forget that anytime soon." "I know, and again, I'm sorry for... I just feel so...why won't LaCroix tell you where he's been?" "I don't know," he said and shook his head. "I'd rather know why he's gone several days--if not longer--without blood." "So that's not remotely normal? The draining two and a half glasses--" "No. When LaCroix drinks blood from a glass, he does so slowly to savor it...and he doesn't wait for bottled blood when he's hungry, when he's famished." "Ugh, that just makes me think I messed up more, especially that one bit." "Which bit?" "The 'liking to screw with your emotions' bit." "But it's true; he knows it. He probably won't even mention it. I wouldn't worry." "Are you saying that to make me feel better, or--" "I'm not lying to make you feel better. I learned a while ago not to do that, but--" "Nick..." "It's my choice if I put myself in danger by fighting those who come for you or whatever else. It's my choice to stay by your side whatever you find out about what you are. Don't ask or worry about how I feel or how my choice might affect me in the future. If I change my mind, you'll know and we'll deal with it then, but I don't think I will." "Nick, you don't know--" "I don't let go of people I care about easily, Nat. If I did...I had, what, four times I could have left Toronto? Five if you count when we first met. Half a dozen if..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "If I do have doubts...you know I'm not very good at hiding how I feel. Please, don't try to convince me to leave or try to spare my feelings. If you're worried about LaCroix...I'll get him to leave or stop following us, even if I have to kill him." "Nick--" "I'll do it if I have to, but only if I have to. I don't think I will, though. I don't know, maybe knowing that mortals are watching us will get him to back off." "I'm not really worried about him beyond that I hope he agrees not to kill any more Watchers. I don't want to be the cause of or dragged into some war." "We won't be. He won't want that any more than us, and I'm sure he could see the possible consequences." "Like vampires and Immortals both revealed to the world." "Yeah, and which group do you think will suffer the most?" Nick asked, mostly rhetorically, then he restated, "He'll realize what could happen. He thinks things through before he decides and acts. Usually." He paused and took in a deep breath, both to give Natalie a chance to reply and calm his thoughts some. When she didn't say anything, he asked, "Do you want to go back or go to a hotel or something?" "Go to a hotel and let him simmer? I don't think so." "So back." "Yeah, back, but...not until we have to." Nick tensed a little--it was more like not until he had to--but asked, "A longer walk, then?" When Natalie nodded, he turned to face the way they had been walking when they stopped, then waited until she did the same, curling her arm around his. They walked for nearly an hour more, mostly in silence. Then they returned to the apartment just a few moments before dawn, Natalie half pulling him along and him trying to just keep walking slowly like they had been. Nick unlocked the door and pushed it open, expecting LaCroix to be standing there, waiting after the comment about returning before sunrise. He wasn't. Nick almost felt relieved at that--his and Natalie's bit of pushing and pulling had almost become fun, and they were smiling a little. They were both in too good of a mood compared to when they had left...or when Natalie had left and he had followed. "Is he here?" Natalie asked in a whisper as she leaned closer to Nick. Closing his eyes, Nick could immediately tell that LaCroix was indeed there in the home. That sense was unusually clear and he answered, "The kitchen," as he opened his eyes and looked up the stairs. Had LaCroix ever left, or had he simply stood there and finished off the bottle as he waited for them to return? Nick slowly ascended the steps ahead of Natalie, even glancing back at her half way up to ensure she was indeed behind him. Once he reached the second floor, Nick took even more care with his steps into the kitchen. LaCroix sat at the table where Natalie had sat to eat her breakfast, and rather than her empty plate a full glass and a bottle of blood sat in front of LaCroix. By the level of liquid in the bottle, Nick knew this was not the same bottle his sire had pulled from the cupboard and opened...this was at least a second bottle. After giving another glance back to Natalie, along with a slight shake of his head, Nick walked forward alone. "LaCroix?" "Leave us, Natalie. I wish to speak to Nicholas alone." "Nick..." He turned and could see her worry, but with LaCroix' calm request, he knew he had nothing to worry about. He tried to smile as he assured her, "It's all right; I'll be up in a bit." He then waited until Natalie left before even turning back toward LaCroix. "Bring another glass...I doubt you've had anything yet this morning." Nick turned and went to the cupboard, but paused for a moment with his hand on the door. He didn't really want to get a glass for himself knowing what would be poured into it: More of the just opened, room temperature blood that LaCroix preferred because it had a stronger flavor. But he also didn't want to argue, and so did as LaCroix had ordered. He walked slowly back and sat across the small, round glass table from the other man. "Why did she leave?" Nick tensed both from the question and the neither warm nor cold blood now being poured into his glass. "Nicholas, why did she leave?" "Why do you have to ask? I thought you could read minds, read thoughts." LaCroix chuckled. "Yours, not hers, and right now you are...worried. Hardly a specific thought." Specific or not, Nick stiffened. Worried. That very much summed up how both he and Natalie felt...and just as LaCroix didn't seem able to pin it to any one thing, their worries encompassed most areas of their lives at the moment...including LaCroix' reaction right now. Rather than answer, Nick asked his own question, "What's your answer?" "I haven't decided. I want to know more of what you were told." "You know enough." "Natalie didn't think so." Nick froze at that and took a sip from his glass for an excuse to stall. "So they fight until only one is left..." "Darius didn't tell you that?" "You know he didn't, Nicholas." "Do I? You don't always tell the truth. You leave things out to twist--" "I did not know there was some...goal, some end. Makes sense that there is." "I take it you didn't know Immortals can't fight on holy ground, either?" "No." "Explains why you only ever saw the priest at the church. The one way to not have to fight." "He was killed--" "By mortals." "And these mortals..." "Have been dealt with." "By?" "MacLeod. Investigating what happened is how he found out about Watchers, about the mortals that follow their lives." LaCroix stared at his glass, turning it slowly around, a centimeter at a time. "And the mortal you spoke to is one of these...historians?" "Yes. He explained about both his people and holy ground, about what Natalie said." "Did he accuse you of killing--" "No. He...tried to avoid the topic, actually, but I had guessed that they would have assigned someone to Natalie." Nick paused, glancing to his glass, but he didn't pick it up. His anger was returning. "And I could tell by his reaction something had happened...that, and she didn't have one, or doesn't right now. As soon as I knew they had died, I knew it was you. They were--" "I had to, Nicholas." "You did not have to kill them." "They had seen, they had evidence...killing them was the only way to ensure--" "They wouldn't have told anyone, LaCroix. They already knew about Immortals--after the first, they probably knew about vampires as well, about me. They would not have told. Their job is to stay invisible, to keep their knowledge and their secrets to themselves." "What is to say they even would have told me what they were?" Nick shut his eyes. He didn't have a reply, but he remembered what MacLeod had told him and said, "They can be identified." "How?" "A tattoo on the underside of their wrist," Nick said, but quickly added, "I don't know what it looks like, but you have to admit it's an unusual place for a tattoo. If you're worried about someone watching us, then check...but don't kill them or even scare them too much. I don't want to be hunted, and neither do you." "Do they know about Janette?" At this, Nick took a large sip from his glass. "Nicholas, do they know about--" "If they know about you, they probably know about her, so yes. And Janette...as I told you, she tried to help spot the Immortal tailing me and Natalie, so she may have been seen by that Immortal's Watcher. I doubt they know where she lives or who she is beyond a friend or acquaintance of Natalie's." "Or yours." "Or mine." "But you and Natalie went to her as well." "We had to. I had to leave Natalie somewhere if I were to search without being seen. I was careful. We weren't seen leaving here." Nick watched as his sire took in a slow breath, released it, then drank from his glass. "LaCroix--" "What do you think of Janette's new hobby?" "If it's what she wants to do...that's all that matters to me." "She is playing with fire, Nicholas. She has no idea--" "She'll be fine. Besides, I seriously doubt you told her about Divia, about your daughter," Nick said and watched the other simmer. "Janette is helping those who otherwise would either be taken advantage of or have to learn to take advantage of others." "She is helping them get jobs, go to school...pitiful." "They are young, LaCroix. They aren't like us. They don't have investments squirreled away centuries ago to live off of. If they don't have some sort of inheritance, their options are working or stealing...and I know you disapprove of the latter. And if they are as young as they look--" "They are." "They have to start somewhere. Janette will be fair, but she can also be firm. She'll give them the chance they need, the support and home they need." "So you won't try to convince her--" "No, I won't. It's her choice, and I think it was a good one." "And her other choice? The one you took away?" "It's not something that can be changed. And it's not something that pertains to our conversation." Nick paused, watching as LaCroix almost smiled at him. "Did you think about what I asked? Will you kill more of them?" "Yes, I thought about what you and Natalie said." "And?" LaCroix stood and walked over to the doors that led to a balcony over a small, dim courtyard. He looked out, but didn't answer. "LaCroix?" Nick asked as he got up from his chair and approached. Taking in another deep breath, he answered, "I will not kill more of them unless they either try to kill one of us or attempt to reveal us to the mortals in general." "Including MacLeod's friend?" "Yes." "Thank you, LaCroix." "Don't thank me yet; I still want to know more about what you were told, what you learned about Immortals." LaCroix turned, the near smile still there. "I never did finish asking about that...what else might be bothering her? What else did she find out about herself?" Nick stared back, but he could practically feel LaCroix trying to sift through his thoughts and emotions. "Immortals are foundlings, orphans. She didn't know." "That I am aware, she didn't have much in the way of family." "She used to; she was close to her brother, a younger brother...who she apparently wasn't remotely related to. She...she used to wear a locket. I haven't seen her wear it since she found out. I know it's bothering her. And it possibly rules out Immortals being genetic flukes. We were once human, once mortal, but--" "Immortals never were," LaCroix whispered. "Exactly. She won't be able to cure herself like she might be able to cure me." "You don't need to be...cured." "I've wanted to go back since the night you turned me. Now I can't and Natalie knows I won't, not even if she finds something. So do you." "So you're finally going to stop--" "No, I'm not giving up, LaCroix. I'm not like you and never will be." "You could be..." "I've tried, you've tried...and I can't. Not then and not now." "But you don't like how you are, either. You're carrying more guilt than you have even of late, Nicholas." Nick froze and looked away, even as LaCroix walked back toward him. He had let his guard down. "What have you done since you left Paris that now burdens you?" He closed his eyes as LaCroix walked behind him. "Nicholas..." "Carver, the Immortal waiting in my loft...I killed him." "So you said." Turning and looking up at the other, he evenly said, "Without a sword." He watched as surprise--and not a good surprise, it was almost fear--flitted in the other's expression before he looked away. "I...see." "Do you? Really? I twisted his head from--" "Yes, Nicholas, I know what you did. I've seen you do it before." "When I've lost control...too much even for you to watch. If I didn't always try to stop myself, I'd have a lot more guilt to carry around." Nick stared at the other man for a moment, but talking about what he had done made his hunger rise. Even now he felt his control slipping, and he went to the table, picked up his glass, and downed half of the substantial amount that remained. The room-temperature blood did little to calm him, but at least he didn't want for it quite so strongly. "If you kill any more Watchers, threaten Natalie, or try your tricks on either of us...we're gone." "And what is this threat for?" "It's not a threat, merely a forewarning." "It's unnecessary. I have already told you I will not kill any more of those mortals and--" "It wasn't meant to be a threat, LaCroix," he said, spinning. "These last months have been hard--the last year or more, really, ever since--and both Natalie and I want to go back to work." "Go back to work...as?" "We haven't decided. Or when or where for that matter." "If and when you leave...will you tell me?" "Are you planning on coming with us?" "Of course. It would be much easier if you told me beforehand...as opposed to me wasting days or weeks tracking you down." "I thought you liked hunting me down," he said and watched LaCroix grin. "Perhaps, but things always turn out for the worse when I have to find you, don't they?" LaCroix' smile hadn't vanished, but Nick saw other emotions darkening his gaze. No, things usually did not turn out well when his sire felt he had to hunt him down. "Will you tell me where you plan to go? When you and Natalie decide, of course." "Probably. And don't worry...we're not leaving yet." "Ah, yes, your new friend." "He's not my friend. Or Natalie's." "Not yet." "He has merely offered to help Natalie, but it's an opportunity I don't want to let just pass by. It could be a trick or--" "If he's a friend of Darius', I doubt it is a trick." "You, apparently, were a friend of Darius, so I'm not sure that means anything." "We had...similar beginnings." LaCroix walked over to the table for his glass, then he started to leave the faintly brightening kitchen. "From what I've overheard, Natalie thinks you and MacLeod are similar...if I asked her now, would she still agree?" Nick stared silently back, but didn't answer. Yes, Natalie would agree, and he saw LaCroix grin again just before he left the room. He hadn't really thought that they could end up friends...but apparently MacLeod had other Immortal friends, so he supposed it wasn't out of the question. He just didn't want to get too close and have his secret spread about, even if it would come out eventually. In twenty, fifty, a hundred years, people would start to notice that Natalie's mortal companion wasn't mortal...that he couldn't possibly be mortal. Glancing to the open windows and lightening view, Nick retrieved his own glass. Time to vacate the room before the brightness turned into splotches of indirect and direct sunlight. Natalie would worry and drag him off if she found him just standing there, zoned out. Future Tense - (29/36) "Are you sure you want to do this now?" Nick asked early the next evening as he pulled their car to a stop near--but still well away from--Duncan MacLeod's barge. "We can wait. Or I can call Dawson so that he can warn MacLeod." "I don't think he'll be easily spooked, and I thought you said it would be better--" "All right," he said, cutting Natalie off. If LaCroix was listening, he didn't particularly want her to finish that sentence. Yes, he had decided it would be better if LaCroix was forced to watch and observe...and if the other man did show himself, hopefully he would be there to help mediate. "But...it's not just a matter of...Nat, are you ready if--" "Nick, I have had weeks to think about accepting his offer, and I both want to and think it's a good idea regardless. So...drive." "But are you ready?" "Ah, probably as ready as I will be." Nick hesitated at the answer, but there was no point in arguing or trying to dissuade her. Any hesitancy was probably just nerves; even he felt a little nervous meeting MacLeod without his friend at and probably in his home...without the friend who very possibly knew--and had told MacLeod--they had broken into that very home. He pushed his thoughts away and drove slowly forward until they had stopped along the river behind another car. He hesitated again as Natalie flinched and froze, but turned off the ignition when she reached for the door. They both slowly got out and let their doors shut normally, then started toward the ramp leading onto the barge. They had barely set foot on the ramp when MacLeod came into view. "So you have an answer?" "I told you we would." "Have you called Dawson?" "Not yet," Nick said, then nodded behind MacLeod. "May we come in?" He watched the other man hesitate, but then nod and turn. He continued up the ramp with Natalie right behind him. Just before following MacLeod inside, Nick looked up away from the river and locked right onto LaCroix watching from a rooftop. He pulled his eyes away and continued inside, where he let Natalie walk pass him. Only once he closed the door did Nick follow Natalie, and even then he hesitated before sitting down next to her. "You should know we are being watched." "Being..." "Watched," he repeated. "One of my kind," he specified, knowing MacLeod would get his meaning...and he hoped the other wouldn't say LaCroix' name. "Did you--" "I don't think there will be any more problems with Dawson's people. You can tell him that." "I can?" "Yes. Although...tell him that we would prefer that whoever is eventually assigned to Natalie already knows what I am...and longer than a few days or weeks." Nick paused, his nerves rising again, then he added, "And whoever it is should know that they will be watched as well, although whether that is once or many times, whether it is by me or someone else, and whether it is from a distance or very closely, I do not know. They might never know, but I can't guarantee they won't be confronted at some point. And they need to know to do nothing beyond watch; if they panic and consider telling...they'll probably be killed." MacLeod had sat down, but he didn't look at either of his guests. "They won't be harmed without provocation," Nick added. "Is that a guarantee?" Nick stared forward for several seconds before shaking his head. "I can't completely..." He shook his head harder. "I won't do anything, and I don't think there will be a repeat, but I can't--" "You can't guarantee it." Nick now switched to slowly nodding. He seriously hoped nothing would happen. While LaCroix seemed to have agreed--both to leave any Watchers alone as well as that it would be a bad idea to draw more attention to them--that didn't always turn out as it should. LaCroix hadn't liked the idea of his life being recorded either directly or indirectly, so Nick felt hopeful things would turn out. Yet he didn't want to understate the danger that lay in wait. "You doing all right with everything?" Nick snapped out of his thoughts; MacLeod's question was for Natalie, and he looked slightly over toward her. She had frozen. "Nat?" "Fine," she replied. "I remember how much of a shock it was when I found out my parents weren't my parents." "It's fine." "It didn't seem fine. No one would be okay finding out like that. There's no shame--" "Really, I'm okay. It just stirs up bad memories...mixed memories. It makes sense, in a way." Natalie glanced to Nick before saying, "When I was a kid, my parents were killed in an accident. Me and my younger brother went to live with our grandmother, and she...she treated me different, harsher. I think she knew. Looking back...it all makes sense. Kind of, anyway. I'm okay with it." "Your brother--" "He was shot a few years ago. Killed. Other than his wife and daughter, everyone else is gone. It is less of a concern than the blasted headaches whenever I run into another Immortal. I'm getting used to it, but it'd be nice if I could turn it off. Or down." "Is that normal?" Nick asked. "Is it the same for you?" "Headaches?" "Yeah," Natalie said. "Or, well, more like migraines." "I wouldn't say unusual..." "But when you sense another Immortal, you don't get a headache," Natalie said. "No, but I think it's pretty normal, especially at first." "At first." "The very first time you sensed another Immortal, what did it feel like?" "Like my head was going to split open." "And when you came here tonight? Was it the same?" Natalie opened her mouth only to immediately shut it. "No, but...well, yes. It's milder, but still more or less the same." "And what do you feel right now?" Nick looked expectantly toward Natalie, curious as to the answer since they didn't really talk about it...and he knew she hadn't told him every time the Immortal that had been stalking them in Paris came a little too close, but that was more from her assurances than her reactions. "Not much of anything. It seems to fade after a little while." "Always, or...?" "Ah, no, not always. Actually, usually it doesn't. It's only when I relax. I take it that's normal?" MacLeod smiled as he nodded. "Yes, that's normal. Don't worry; you'll get more used to it." "But will I get used to the rest? To killing?" "That's a bit harder, especially for you or any Immortal born in the last couple of centuries. Even more so for new Immortals. You had probably never held a sword before--" "Actually, I have, although it was evidence. And let me just say I've seen stranger weapons." "That's right, you were a medical examiner...so you've probably seen--" "A lot, including I'm pretty sure other Immortals--dead Immortals. Not always with a sword, but killed by one. One or two a year, at least. Unsolved. It wasn't exactly a comforting realization." "Then you probably know better than most that you won't get used to it. You get used to it--" "If you get used to it, you stop caring. And that changes how you deal with it next time and the next," Natalie finished. "How hard will it be to have a normal job?" "That'll probably be dependent on--" "If you're forced out of it," Nick cut off. "I know what that's like." "That, but it will also depend on what job you have and your employer. There's no real way to know. What are you thinking of?" "Ah, maybe teaching," Natalie answered. "Not sure yet, but it's something we could both do, and it's fairly flexible." "Have you before?" "I haven't unless back when I was a medical student counts. Nick has." "It's been a while, and I've only really done it once," he added, turning to Natalie, who looked at him a bit oddly...she didn't like that he was qualifying that experience. Wanting to get to why they had actually come, he asked, "What about what you can or will teach Natalie? Where do we start with that?" "We can go up top and--" "No, not here," Nick said. "It's too public." "Do you have somewhere in mind?" "No, just somewhere enclosed, especially if I will at any time do anything more than watch," Nick said. "I don't want to draw any unwanted attention...because of what I am." "Nick is a lot faster than a mortal or an Immortal," Natalie explained. "Just name a place and time and we'll be there. It does need to be at night." Nick watched MacLeod stand and walk away, and he wondered if perhaps the other was reconsidering his offer. After a good minute or bit more, he stood. "We can come back another time. Or not at all if--" "No, I'm just thinking..." Nick then watched as MacLeod walked over to a table and started writing on a piece of paper, which he then ripped the note off of. "Either tomorrow at sunset or in an hour tonight at this address," MacLeod said, holding the piece of paper out. Nick took the piece of paper. The address was close to where he and Natalie had initially practiced there in Paris until they had been interrupted. It would be fine. "Whenever is good for you. We don't want to inconvenience you." "Neither is an inconvenience, so tonight then?" He looked to Natalie, who looked more nervous than he again. "Nat?" "Yeah, I guess," she answered as she stood. "An hour, then. And thanks." "You might want to save that until we're done," MacLeod said, grinning. "Oh, no. I don't know if I'll have the energy then." "Are you sure about doing this?" Nick asked, his focus squarely on MacLeod. "Why wouldn't I be?" He could think of several reasons--firstly that they barely knew one another--but rather than argue he just guided Natalie out. In moments they were in the car and heading back home. "Nick..." "Are you sure about tonight?" "Yeah, I'm sure. I'm not going to get any better at using a sword between now and tomorrow night. And neither are you, for that matter." She paused, then said, "And you didn't have to question him. He knew what you are before he ever met us and made the offer in the first place." "And just because he knows vampires exist doesn't mean he knows what I'm capable of doing. Telling him I'm faster doesn't exactly explain it much." "Yeah, well, explaining what you can do isn't exactly easy without an example. And I remember how hard it was to get you to give me a demonstration." Nick smiled a little at that. It had taken Natalie a lot of prodding before he had shown her everything. He just didn't trust outsiders easily, and while MacLeod wasn't mortal, Immortals weren't like vampires. The only things they had in common were immortality--specifically that they did not age--and that they both healed quickly from most wounds. "I don't want to drive tonight to wherever we're going since you haven't told me yet..." "It's near where we had gone to practice...before we were--" "Before we ran into..." Natalie shook her head. "He never even said his name. Well, then, another reason to not drive. It was probably the car that tipped him off, or at least made him stay and wait." Nick glanced over at Natalie, who was starting to look uncomfortable again. He didn't say anything. The thing that would help Natalie the most would just be going; and she'd be fine. He was more worried about himself. Would he make a fool of himself or, worse, would he lose his cool and do something to change MacLeod's mind? Future Tense - (30/36) "You're doing better than you think." Natalie didn't reply as she went to pick up her fallen sword...or she should say, the sword that had been flipped out of her hand and well out of reach. Between LaCroix, Nick, and now MacLeod, it made her feel inept whenever she lost her grip. If this had been real, she'd have been dead by now simply from that. And it wasn't the first time she'd fallen or dropped her sword that night. "Your reflexes are fast and--" "And that doesn't matter if I'm weaponless," she snapped and continued on her way. Being tired from the last couple of hours didn't help. "It matters. You are fast and you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You just need to learn how to use those strengths." Natalie glanced back only to find MacLeod right there, and she almost stumbled as she turned around. "Switch places with me," MacLeod said. She felt nervous as MacLeod quickly approached her and pointed her back the way she had come...away from her dropped sword. But like Nick, MacLeod seemed to be a good teacher. Without tricks. She would know what the plan was in a moment, she knew. Sighing, she spun. "All right. Now what?" "Get past me to your sword." "Get..." She shook her head. "That's impossible." "It won't be impossible--" "But you're not going to just stand there and let me through." He smiled. "No, I'm not." She relaxed a little, wondering how far MacLeod would go to stop her. While not the same as some of the training she had done with Nick and LaCroix, it was similar. But MacLeod was four hundred years old and used a sword pretty much that whole time...even if she *was* fast, he had to be, too. At least attacking her didn't seem to be part of the plan, and so Natalie continued to stare and think for close to a minute before making her first attempt. In three steps she had a blade coming at her neck and she flinched back. That was another thing she wasn't used to--Nick didn't go for her neck when they practiced, not intentionally. Even when LaCroix did this it had been a slower action and he never got that close...it also didn't scare her half to death every time like this did. She didn't go for his, either; but MacLeod had repeatedly told her to not hold back. That had made her feel worse, or more specifically, weak. He wasn't afraid for his life...not against her. Regaining her balance and bearings, Natalie tensed realizing Nick was no longer in view. Either he had become distracted, pulled away by LaCroix, or he had approached because of MacLeod's latest lesson or test. "I won't hurt you. We can even do this without--" Natalie watched as MacLeod moved to the side to put his sword down. "No, it's okay." Then she braced herself and tried again. She made it farther this time...in fact she had made it past MacLeod. She had also slipped as she had moved to avoid him, resulting in a skinned palm and a sore knee and hip. Her opponent chuckled in response, but held out his hand to help her up. She accepted, telling him, "That wasn't funny." "No, actually, it was pretty good. If that had been real, you would have managed to get back up and your opponent would have been taken off guard." All Natalie felt was extraordinarily clumsy. Who knows what would happen if she lost her sword in a real fight, although she supposed her options would be to run away or try for it...assuming she could. Then she startled slightly finding Nick right there as she was pulled up onto her feet. "I'm fine," she said before he could ask. "Although, Nick, I think it's your turn." MacLeod turned at Natalie's comment and any amusement faded. "And please don't kill one another," she added mainly to Nick, who seemed to be glaring at MacLeod, but neither acknowledged her. "So vampires are a lot faster than mortals or Immortals. Just faster reflexes, or--" "Faster," Nick simply answered. "You'll know it when you see it." "*If* you see it," Natalie added and both men looked at her. "I'll go wait out of your way," she muttered, then slowly went to get her sword, hoping the two would talk a little more before she was out of range of their conversation. They didn't, and she went and sat on the crate Nick had leaned against most of that night. Sitting was nice, although she still wished she healed faster...more like Nick did, specifically. If she were a vampire, she'd already be pain free. When she first heard them start to fight, Natalie winced a little until she realized MacLeod was doing the same thing with Nick as he had with her. He wanted an idea of how Nick fought, what he knew, and then he went through some of the same moves he had with her...but much quicker. Nick had probably watched her, though, so it's not like what he was being shown was brand new. After that, it *did* look like he was shown a few things that were new, but Nick seemed to sail through that as well. Then they had started talking, and Natalie abandoned her seat. Just like when she left, she didn't get to hear anything interesting. They were just picking a date and time to meet again--a week, same place, but at sunset--then they went quiet as she approached. "You should know Nick and me don't keep secrets." "Not trying to keep secrets, just wondering if you're always so stubborn or just with this." "Stubborn?" she said a bit surprised, and she turned toward Nick. "He's the stubborn one. You should see some of the crap he drags across the world." "I haven't dragged anything here, Nat." "Yet," she countered, but teasingly. "And if you're referring to my--" "Underestimating your abilities," Nick finished. She shot a glare at him, but nodded. "I think that's just this. It doesn't help that I feel so clumsy and slow." "Because you're pushing yourself," Nick said. "I'm not--" "I gave you multiple chances to make things easier or less threatening, and every time you didn't back down." She didn't feel one bit better. "Is a week all right for our next meeting?" MacLeod asked. "He said it would be, but if you want to wait two--" "Yeah, a week is fine," she said. She pulled lightly on Nick's shirt sleeve back toward the crates and their coats--MacLeod's as well. "I didn't see you parked outside." "Because we're not...and we'll be fine," Nick said almost cutting MacLeod off. Natalie watched as MacLeod grabbed his coat and left, then she accepted her coat silently from Nick. "You're not really upset about my tendency to keep things, are you?" She paused in pulling on her coat, noticing he looked a bit concerned. Apparently, he didn't realize she had been teasing. "No, not really. Most of it is hobby related, I think." "But the things that aren't..." "Can be worked on," she told him, leaning forward to look up at him. She caught a smile, then Nick tensed. "Perhaps you shall have better luck than I in persuading Nicholas to let go of his extraneous possessions." Natalie spun at LaCroix' voice; he stood mere feet behind Nick. "Here to watch me screw up?" she asked, but knew he was really there to watch MacLeod rather than her. "Or are you actually concerned about me?" "He's concerned about me," Nick said. "Not concerned. Merely...curious." "And what did you think of him?" Nick further asked as he pulled on his own coat and slipped his sword safely away. "He seems to be knowledgeable enough to teach her...and you, apparently." "Will you leave him alone?" Natalie asked. At first all she got was silence. "Will you?" she asked again. "I want to know as well, LaCroix," Nick said. LaCroix turned away, but after a short moment he said, "For now." "But?" Nick asked. "I'll be nearby." He smiled, then he vanished in a flash. "If he messes this up, Nick..." "He'll have me to deal with." "You mean he'll have both of us to deal with," she corrected. "And probably Janette as well," she added, but knew Janette possibly would never know about these lessons...not unless LaCroix dragged her into this or something went wrong. "He won't mess this up, Nat. He does have limits to his meddling." She hoped Nick was right. She felt like she had already learned quite a bit that night and that she'd learn more over the next weeks. And not just her, but this would help Nick. MacLeod was a good teacher; LaCroix probably would be, too, if he wouldn't argue and bait Nick, or if he didn't hate her so much, but they couldn't wait for him to change. And she still thought MacLeod was a lot like Nick. Something just told her they could trust him. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Two weeks later, Natalie again found herself watching from the side-lines. This was their third meeting--her third lesson--and each time it went the same way. First it was her turn, then Nick's. Tonight MacLeod seemed to be harder on Nick, actually making him fight--and Nick had been forced to use what he was to keep up. That had disoriented MacLeod when his opponent moved just a little too fast at one point, and Nick had then shown off by moving quickly out of sight and behind MacLeod. Smiling. She knew he liked to do that, and he and MacLeod seemed to be getting along a little better. Natalie smiled at them as they regrouped and began again, then she had the odd sensation of someone sneaking up on her. Turning, she found LaCroix not far away, silently walking out of a shadow. He wasn't smiling or even smirking at her. Hearing someone shuffle or trip, Natalie turned to find Nick holding a hand over his bleeding arm. She had to remind herself that Nick would be fine--he had probably just been distracted by LaCroix. His eyes were right on LaCroix...and now so were MacLeod's. Shifting, Natalie stood and started toward LaCroix. "What do you want?" she whispered as she tried to lead him back into the dark corner he had probably been hiding in for some time. Turning, she found he had only followed her a few steps. "What do you want? Or are you just making yourself known?" "Mostly the latter. Might as well after Nicholas slipped...then purposely--" "He's getting better," she said, cutting him off. "Don't you think?" She watched him turn slightly, but she didn't look away from him as he looked at the two, who had resumed their lesson--what she'd be learning, practicing, over the next week or so. "LaCroix?" "Perhaps." "Why is it so hard for you to admit when Nick is accomplishing something?" "It is not--" "All you do is criticize or give half-answers. Either Nick is doing better, or he's not. 'Perhaps' isn't an answer," she said, almost regretting it when he glared at her. "Then...yes." A bit shocked at his reply let alone that he had bothered to respond at all, she broke her gaze and looked back over at Nick. They had stopped again. "Unless you want them to come over here, I guess you better go. At least out of sight. If you want to talk to either me or Nick, you can do it later." LaCroix stiffened a little and turned. In moments, however, he had vanished from sight. Natalie headed back to where she had been watching from and saw MacLeod with Nick's sword to his neck. She tensed for a second, but after a moment it became apparent that Nick had just managed to win their mock fight...possibly because the other had been distracted. Yet as she watched, the two didn't seem to say anything, nor did they stop. Nick must have already told him to ignore what he'd seen. Maybe they had started again after she had followed LaCroix? She didn't much like watching them fight. At times, it reminded her of how LaCroix would fight with Nick, especially the intensity. Nick and MacLeod were, in some ways, far more evenly matched. MacLeod didn't go too far like LaCroix would just because he could; that made watching almost educational. Almost. Often they went too fast for her to really tell exactly what Nick would be helping her with over the next week. She could guess and sort of tell, but only roughly. And tonight, again, was a bit different. Right now she didn't know if anything in their fight would come up again, but as she watched they began again...and again, and again until a fight ended with MacLeod's sword to Nick's neck. Even from as far back as she stood, she saw Nick flinch. She didn't blame him. It looked worse watching than it felt up close...just how fast MacLeod brought his sword down and how easily he stopped it just at the last couple of, literally, millimeters. She watched as Nick, eventually, pushed the sword gently away with his arm and stood, backing away. He still looked a bit out of it, and he stumbled a little as he regained his footing. That was one thing LaCroix hadn't done to either of them. He more often temporarily killed them than risked possibly slipping and killing them for good. It was now after midnight, later than either of the two other nights they had done this. Guessing this would likely be the end of tonight's lesson, she walked toward them. "Natalie, I'm fine," Nick said even before she had reached them. "You don't look fine." "I haven't quite been that close to--" "Losing your head?" MacLeod offered up. Nick tensed again. "Yeah. Especially not in the last couple of centuries." "I bet it can't be easy to decapitate a vampire." "It's not." "You could have easily moved out of the way--why didn't you?" "Because if it was a real fight and I'm seen, there's no choice but to kill my opponent." "Or because your friend made his presence known?" Nick stiffened yet again; so did Natalie. "I saw him, know he was here." "He just came to talk to me," Natalie said. "And I told him we'd talk later." "He doesn't like me knowing what you are," MacLeod said, his attention on Nick. "He's not comfortable with it; I'm not all that comfortable with it, either, to be honest." "But you're not going to make me change my mind?" Nick tensed and looked toward Natalie. She knew what the comment meant--MacLeod definitely knew more about vampires than they had told him. They had been careful with what they said...very careful. "I do know a little bit about what you are--as much as the Watchers have gathered, anyway." "I don't think it will work," Nick admitted. "Natalie's immune, as were all the Immortals I've tried to influence. Besides, as long as you know Natalie, she'll remind you about me, about what I am, and your friend, Dawson, would just tell you again. I assume there will be at least a few more lessons?" MacLeod seemed to consider, then he started to slowly nod. "And I hope it won't be the last I hear from you two." "I think that depends," Natalie started. "Isn't it kind of hard to have Immortal friends?" "It's easier than you might think; you'll gain some friends yourself before too long, I'm sure." "And if they stick around, they'll realize that while I'm not like Natalie, I'm not mortal, either." "We'll think of something, Nick," she assured. What, she wasn't sure. Nick wouldn't have much luck passing himself off as a relative--any Immortal would see right through that explanation. "If they're your friend, they won't care what he is and they will keep his secret." "How many Immortals have you told about the Watchers?" Nick asked, narrowing his eyes a little. "Very few, and only once they needed to know." "Needed to know?" "Once they had learned something and the options were to let them assume--sometimes the worst--or explain. I know it's not an easy choice." Nick looked away for a moment, but then asked, "And how many have they in turn told?" "Even fewer." "And--" "Nick, stop it," she interrupted with a glare to Nick. They were so much alike in some ways...but Nick was more suspicious. Then she turned her attention to MacLeod. "I take it most Immortals don't know about Watchers?" "No, they don't, and many that do probably found out on their own, just like Darius did." "And Darius never told anyone?" "Only me, that I'm aware, and only by leaving a clue he knew I'd recognize." Nick shifted, looking away. Natalie recognized the look--he was thinking about something, remembering something. "Nick--" "I wish I had really met him. All I remember are a few short flits." "Which are?" Nick stared over at MacLeod, but answered, "A glimpse of him as we entered the church for refuge, and an even shorter one of him playing chess with LaCroix. And then come nightfall we simply left and I forgot about what I had seen until recently." "And who won?" "I don't know. I'd say LaCroix, but he told me Darius wasn't always a priest." "No, he wasn't." MacLeod then finally started toward his coat, but he glanced back at Nick. "You're more like an Immortal than what I'd think a vampire would be like." "Nick's not the typical vampire," Natalie said before Nick could say the opposite or make some excuse. He almost glared at her, but then he looked away and he didn't counter her. MacLeod didn't comment, either. She wanted to explain just how different Nick was, but he didn't trust the other enough, not yet. "So, next week, same time?" MacLeod hesitated, but nodded. "Next week, same time," he repeated. Then as he got his coat, he asked, "You talk to Dawson yet? Give him an answer?" Nick tensed and glanced to Natalie. "No, not yet." "Will you?" She watched him freeze up, then after a moment he started to nod. She grabbed their things in case he wanted to leave before MacLeod stopped asking questions. "Yeah, I'll talk to him. Soon." Natalie relaxed once MacLeod started walking away. "What was that about?" Nick asked once the other man vanished from sight. "He showed himself because you used what you were rather...blatantly in front of MacLeod," she carefully answered, not sure whether LaCroix still watched them or not. "Is he--" "He's gone, but not for long." "So...what are you going to tell Dawson?" "I don't know yet, but I guess we need to decide. Which means another chat with LaCroix, which I think is inevitable. He was still here when MacLeod asked about that. He'll bring it up as soon as we get back, I'm sure." They started walking toward the entrance, and Natalie asked, "Do you think maybe we should leave, start over somewhere? I mean soon, not right now or in a year from now, but in a few weeks, couple months..." "I don't know," Nick whispered as they exited into an alley. In another few seconds it was deserted as they left. Future Tense - (31/36) "What are you going to tell this Dawson?" LaCroix asked the moment Nick entered the kitchen. "The mortal you told me about." Nick ignored LaCroix for a moment, going to the refrigerator for blood to calm his thoughts. He didn't bother with a glass, and it didn't help when the other man followed him and hovered right next to him while he drank from the bottle. "Nicholas--" "I don't know what I'm going to tell him. His people want to and probably will put someone on Natalie at some point; are you going to stay out of this?" "Of course I will not stay out of this. I will not allow you to be killed by some--" "Will you keep out of sight and not kill any Watchers that follow us?" he asked more bluntly. "Only if I must." "Then you must. That means you can't just...appear somewhere, where you might distract myself or Natalie" "And it means you must keep control, unlike--" "It was a demonstration, LaCroix, nothing more. Just that once." "And if you slip like that again--" "Like you haven't slipped." "Not like that." "Eighteen sixty-five," Nick said, then suppressed his pleasure as LaCroix stiffened. "That was new technology, Nicholas." "And it was a war. Just like you flock to wars for the abundance of spilled blood, mortals flock there to document." "Not in previous wars they hadn't." He almost wished he hadn't brought it up, and he shut the refrigerator door and carried the half-full bottle over to the table, where he sat facing away from the windows. "If they discover your involvement in this--" "Or yours," Nick spat back. "They will kill more than you, Nicholas, but Natalie as well." "I'm not leaving her to face this on her own regardless of the consequences." "Have you told her that? Of course not." "If you had just been content to watch from the shadows rather than--" "I didn't know who they were! I thought the first was some journalist. If they had gone to the press...two unbelievable secrets...I had to kill them. How could I have known?" "Now you do." LaCroix walked around Nick, then leaned over and whispered, "They will kill anyone they feel is connected to this. That means MacLeod and his friend as well." "First we'd have to do something to draw their attention." "Assuming you haven't already. I would assume those you killed had their own Watchers...and with what you did in Toronto...what's to say that Watcher won't break, hasn't already? And what's to say you haven't been followed for some time by them. You've drawn their attention twice." "The first time was your fault, LaCroix." "And I got us both out with our lives." "And the second time was fixed." "And the third? Do you think they'll give you yet another chance?" "I know I need to be careful, LaCroix. And MacLeod knows it as well." "Have you told him about--" "I haven't told him about the Enforcers, not explicitly, not by name; you know I haven't. I've merely emphasized that it's dangerous to know." "You might as well explain why. You can do that when you talk to Dawson, give him your answer..." Nick tensed, but felt LaCroix pull away from him. He took another long drink from the bottle. "And what will you tell him?" "I think you know." "You're going to tell them to proceed." "Might as well." "And you will leave soon?" Nick closed his eyes. Natalie had mentioned leaving, too...and now LaCroix had brought it up. He didn't want to. He worried they'd just run into someone else and they'd just end up running again, but maybe...maybe they should leave Paris. Start over, start a new life. "Natalie's skills have improved greatly. As have yours." Nick opened his eyes and turned at that. "Did you think I hadn't been watching?" "I'm just surprised at your...praise." "If it's even his," came Natalie's voice. He turned toward her, and found her angry and glaring at LaCroix. He had hoped she'd go upstairs, and while it looked like she had changed, she could have easily been listening for the past couple of minutes. "When he showed up, I commented that you were getting better." "And I agreed." "After quite a bit of prodding. I believe your initial answer was 'perhaps'." Nick turned down at the table when his sire started to walk toward Natalie. He shut his eyes again before LaCroix spoke. "And what do you think of Nicholas' plan to let those mortals follow you, record both your lives?" "You know what? I'm fine with it. As long as I don't know they're there, I don't care." "You'll know. Now that Nicholas knows--" "I'm not going to go looking for them, LaCroix." "You're going to ignore--" "Not ignore, just leave them alone as long as they leave us alone." "And will you leave?" LaCroix asked, his attention back on Natalie. "If Nick and I both choose to, yes. You are not pushing him out of this city." "Not right now. But if I wanted to..." Nick stood and approached, pulling on LaCroix' arm, spinning him to face away from Natalie. "Don't make threats you have no intention of following through on." "And what makes you think--" "Because anything you do to force me out will be pinned on me, and you don't want that. And I'm not sure we'll stay, anyway. It's not something we need to decide right now. Any of us. Not me, not Natalie, and not you. If we decide to leave, you can then discuss it with us if you're willing to discuss it civilly. Then we can all leave together." "You would allow me to come with you? And consider my opinions on the matter?" Nick glanced to Natalie, who seemed to have relaxed a little, but she just stared at LaCroix. "I'm not sure we'll have a choice, but yes, we'd allow you to have input in where, right, Nat?" "Ah...yeah, I guess, as long as you're aware just because you make a suggestion doesn't mean we'll take it. And no one is to make any plans until the rest of us are aware of said plan." "Unless we're forced out," LaCroix added. "Yes, unless that, but I don't think we will be," Natalie said. "LaCroix...everything will be fine. Everything will settle with time," Nick said, trying to catch his maker's attention again. It worked for a second, then LaCroix looked away and pulled harshly out of his light hold. "Time is something we all have in abundance." "When will you call the mortal?" "After sun-up." LaCroix spun back. "You're not thinking of having him come here--" "Don't worry, I'll go to him. Alone." "And you will tell him about--" "I'll explain about the Enforcers, at least some. Explain that it is imperative that none of their people breathe a word about vampires." He watched as LaCroix started walking away again, past Natalie, but he stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. "I'll handle it." "I'm sure you will, Nicholas," LaCroix whispered and left. Nick and Natalie stood there, silently for a bit, then he went back to the refrigerator. "I'll make you something for lunch." "Nick..." "I haven't put shredded cheese in a sandwich since that one time, and--" "And I told you that was fine." Nick froze with his hand on the refrigerator handle. "You're upset that I said LaCroix could have input into where and when we move?" "No, I'm not. I know he's just going to follow us, regardless." "Then what--" "I'm not all that upset about-- When you said alone a moment ago, you meant alone, as in just you, without me, right?" "Yeah." "Why--" "Because it's...you won't really have much to say beyond to back me up, and I know you're not that fond of traveling by air. I don't plan on it taking very long. And...and it will probably keep LaCroix from watching." He almost didn't add the last, even though it was the biggest reason. "I think it should just be me that meets with him." He watched Natalie's muscles relax, and after a moment she nodded. "So what do you want?" "Something portable. I'd like to go for a walk, I think...and I'll make it. You should probably change." Nick glanced at his shirt, which had a few tears in it. Bloodstained, although as the shirt was black it didn't show too readily. Forgetting about the bottle he had pulled out, he vaguely nodded and left. Future Tense - (32/36) At eight that morning, Joe had been surprised by a phone call. Nick called him, said he wanted to talk that night. He still wasn't sure what to call the vampire. Nicolas de Brabant was both his original name and the name he had been using when he and Natalie Lambert ran into other Immortals, although he had introduced himself as Nick Knight back in Washington. That was also the name he had used in Toronto. Joe felt a little unsure about meeting the other--in a park at night--and he resisted the urge to call MacLeod. This vampire wasn't a danger to him, he didn't think, and he and Natalie Lambert seemed to almost be one entity--rarely did she go anywhere alone, and usually with him. Joe checked his watch for the third time. The time for their meeting had now passed, although only by a couple of minutes. He stood alone along a path under budding trees. Nothing moved in his vicinity. It almost felt like a trap. Almost. "I'm here like you requested. To talk," he said, turning, spying into the darkness around him. "If you want to talk--" Joe cut off as Nick came into view, just a few arms-lengths away. He hadn't been there a moment before; it was almost as if he had materialized on the spot. Nick stood alone, without Natalie, and he looked rather less friendly than the two previous times they had met. "So what is it that you wouldn't talk about over the phone?" "First, I would think you would want your answer?" "My answer?" "About if it would be safe to put one of your people on Natalie." "So you did talk to him." "Several times." "And?" "Your answer is...yes. Most likely. He won't kill them as long as they merely watch and don't get too close." "But?" "If he--or I, for that matter--catch any of your people taking photographs or video of us rather than what they're there for or appear as if they might tell...one of us will either try to remedy the situation or, if it's LaCroix, they are more likely to be killed." "Remedy the situation," Joe repeated, narrowing his eyes as the vampire started to walk in a large circle around him. "Knowing about my kind is...dangerous." "So you've said." "There are...those like myself...who protect our secret and would kill all those involved to maintain it. If, for example, you or MacLeod said something--" "We won't." "But if you did, you would probably both be killed, including anyone you talked to, myself, Natalie...everyone remotely involved. My kind can make most mortals forget what they've seen, been told, or the like, but proof such as photographs of a vampire changed makes that impossible. And if it can't be fixed, then either myself, LaCroix, or they will fix it, and they won't take the time to change every mortal's mind. And Immortals...I don't think we can even influence Immortals." "But since you didn't know about--" "Enforcers are different. I'm sure they know about Immortals or, if not, they will. And they could--and would--wipe out your whole organization to deal with a threat. It is extremely important that none of your people talk or even hint that they might, especially if they have any kind of proof." "Enforcers," Joe repeated. "And don't repeat that name to anyone, perhaps not even to your friend, MacLeod. They're rarely spoken about by name even amongst my people." "They're that bad?" "Yes." Joe saw something else in the other's reaction. "You've met them before, haven't you? You've had first-hand experience." "Twice." "And?" "And the first time I couldn't do anything. Both myself and LaCroix were lucky in that they dealt with it and walked away. The mortal with the photograph wasn't so lucky. The second time, only a few years ago, I managed to convince the mortal that had discovered something to let it go. Without the concrete proof--a video tape--I was able to fix things. Even then, they almost killed us both." "And despite these Enforcers, you're going to keep fighting for Natalie?" "Yes." "That's dangerous for you, for her." "I know." "And what about everyone else?" "They can choose to walk away. You probably know we haven't forced anyone to fight." Joe slowly nodded; the two had given every opponent the chance to either walk away or tried to walk away themselves. "I'm not going to simply stand by and watch Natalie be killed. But I also won't use what I am to win a fight, unless--" "Unless you start to lose." "Unless I have no choice and it's that or lose Natalie. I plan to fight for her when I can, and knowing we'll be watched I have even more reason to be careful. But your people must also be careful, especially whoever is assigned to watch Natalie. Any photographs or video of me--or any other vampire--that shows us as clearly not human should be destroyed immediately." "As clearly not human...may I ask what you mean? Specifically." "That shows what we are, or that shows one of us doing something humanly impossible." "But benign photographs..." "I'll have to tolerate. By fighting for her, I know I'm essentially consenting to be watched the same as any Immortal." "You and she...you two are very close," Joe commented then watched the other man simply stare back. "I know you haven't had many mortal friends, or none that I had seen mentioned. You trust her." He waited, but the other man just tensed. "Your relationship is--" "None of your business." "It probably isn't. I'm just curious." "Curiosity can be dangerous." "Yes, it can be. I've gotten myself into a fair amount of trouble--long before I ever spoke to MacLeod." Nick turned away, then started to pace. Joe could see that he was thinking, perhaps considering asking a question, and he said, "If you have questions--" "How did you find out about Immortals? Were you told, or--" "In Vietnam a man I saw killed carried me out of the jungle, saved my life. Everyone thought I was crazy, saying I had seen a dead man...then this man came and told me I wasn't." "So someone had seen--" "The Watcher of the Immortal I had seen probably overheard what I told the medics." "And it didn't cause any...issues?" "I had just lost these," Joe said, tapping one of his legs with his cane. "Everyone thought I was delusional. Hell, *I* was starting to think I was delusional." "Is that how all your people became Watchers? Chance?" "No, just some of us. Some get recruited by family members. Most, really." "How long have they been around?" "As long as Immortals have been around to observe...maybe not quite as long, but at least a few thousand years. Immortals aren't new; neither are vampires, I'd guess." Joe paused and watched as the other shifted a little, as if ready to leave. "How is she doing with finding out she's an Immortal?" "Fine, or as fine as can be." "What about LaCroix? How is he treating her?" When Nick seemed to almost visibly pull back from the question, he added, "Let me guess, none of my business?" "You're not my friend...nor are you Natalie's." "I'm also not your enemy. Neither is MacLeod." Now Joe narrowed his eyes; it was just what Nick had said. "How long do you plan to stay here in Paris?" "We haven't decided." "But you're going to leave?" Nick hesitated a moment, but answered, "Eventually." "Because of MacLeod?" Joe asked, but he didn't get a response, verbal or not. "Look, he's a good man, a good Immortal--better than most. Don't just disappear for Natalie's sake. Let her decide if you'll go and whether or not she and MacLeod either stay in contact or meet again. He won't hurt her, and he won't betray your secret." "We wouldn't be leaving until we decide where we plan to live. Natalie isn't fluent in French, so we might not be staying here long-term." "But you don't like the idea of you two being around other Immortals? Is that another reason you're hesitant to stay?" Joe asked, but again the other man remained silent. "I wouldn't, either, not after your last several months, but there are plenty of Immortals out there that would rather either be your friend or walk away from a confrontation, and through MacLeod is one sure way to meet some of the first. Just...think about it. Your experience so far isn't too usual." "Only because we're still alive." Joe tensed at the other's tone, but the comment was also true. They had only met so many Immortals after Natalie's head because they had been underestimated...and each one probably thought they were the first to meet them. Except Ramsay. Ramsay went after every Immortal he met as long as he had his backup. Suddenly Joe saw Nick turn and start walking away, "Hey--" "I gave you my answer...and more." "Will you think about what I said?" he asked and Nick stopped walking and slowly turned back. "About staying in contact with--" "I'll think about it, but it might not be my or Natalie's choice." "But you'll talk to her about it?" he continued to pry, and again he could almost see the other man thinking. "Yes," Nick eventually answered and again turned and resumed walking away. At some point before he should have disappeared from view, the vampire did exactly that. Once it registered, Joe looked away from the now empty bit of path and slowly nodded to himself. He hadn't really expected Nick would talk to him; he was very guarded toward others. He understood why, however, and he at least got an answer. Yes, they could put another Watcher on Natalie Lambert, but there were apparently risks. But there were always risks. Even just making sure the individual assigned to her didn't have a camera might help placate LaCroix...and the others, these Enforcers. Come to think of it, all three of the Watchers that had been killed had a camera on them...sans the latest film. Most of the photographs of Natalie and her friend had been from other Immortals' Watchers. While his superiors had wanted his advice, had wanted him to find out what he could, he just hoped they'd listen to him and not go after Natalie's friend. They might not. They had, after all, tried killing him mere months ago for a similar reason: Watchers kept ending up dead, then assumed to be because of his friendship with MacLeod. Things were different now, but he was still in a precarious position...and even talking to Natalie Lambert and Nicholas Knight was yet another overstepping of boundaries, not counting that Knight was neither a mortal nor an Immortal. Yet despite being guarded, he felt that the vampire would work with them if he could. He'd do what he could to help, and he'd do what he could to keep what he was less visible now that he knew they were being watched. That was especially important, as even if they did put another Watcher on Natalie Lambert, it would be other Immortals' Watchers who had the most chance to see that her companion wasn't exactly human. And Nick, at least, wouldn't interfere. The real concern was his friend, Lucien LaCroix. What he did the next time Lambert ran into another Immortal would be the real test. Future Tense - (33/36) After two more lessons with MacLeod, Natalie felt a bit better about her own abilities. The last time MacLeod had used Nick as her partner, which felt both awkward and yet not. While he hadn't taught her too many things, what he did show her felt invaluable. She had even managed to disarm LaCroix once during practice...although she suspected he had simply let his guard drop a little too far. The question now was did she want more lessons with MacLeod in charge of the content, or did she want to learn from Nick? It hadn't been her or Nick who had brought that up, but MacLeod himself. "Nat?" "I think we need to think about this, talk about it." "We?" "Yes, we. While I suppose I might have final say, I want to talk to you about it and get your input on either what you think or what I think." "Which is?" Natalie held back from answering. LaCroix was just downstairs, probably listening. "Not here." "We can go for a walk, then." "No." Closing her eyes, Natalie tried to calm her thoughts a little then looked at Nick and silently mouthed, "He'll follow us," hoping Nick would get her message that she didn't want LaCroix to overhear...and likely give his opinion. She didn't want that until she had decided one way or another, and she hadn't yet. "Right now, I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to sit and think." "I'll have LaCroix go for a walk, then," Nick said and smiled as he squeezed Natalie's hand. Natalie stood there, frozen, for a moment after he let go and left the room. She did not want him trying to get LaCroix to leave. If asked, he probably wouldn't go far and would listen. She slowly went after him, but slowed as she passed the kitchen--empty--only to go there after making it half way down to the first floor. She knew then where LaCroix would be--the study with his laptop. She didn't want him to catch her trying to listen in. There in the kitchen Natalie first paced, then she got herself a glass of water, which she quickly drank down. Nick's chat with LaCroix--whatever he was saying--was taking longer than she had expected it would. At least she didn't hear any yelling. After a few minutes--during which she had managed to heat up some bread in the microwave and then eat it--she heard the front door close. After several seconds she heard Nick walking up the stairs and she went to the kitchen's entrance...or she hoped it would be Nick and not LaCroix. Peering around the edge of the counter, she relaxed a little seeing Nick. "He actually left?" "Reluctantly; we're almost out of blood and he knows it." "So you sent him on an errand." "And told him you wanted to be alone for a little while to think." "And you think he's actually going to--" "We're not going anywhere, and he knows it." Natalie sighed. "So it'll just be more reason for him to grill us later." "Probably, but he'd do it anyway." "And he's...gone?" Natalie asked. "I mean he isn't just outside, waiting..." Nick closed his eyes, then after a moment he shook his head. "He's not nearby." "Are you certain?" "Yes. With living with him...it's strengthened my senses, especially when it comes to him." "Good. Although I suppose now you want to know what I think about what MacLeod said." "If you want to talk now." Natalie thought about that, but nodded. "Might as well," she said and turned to walk further into the kitchen, where she sat at the table. "And I don't know what I think or what I want to do." "Do you want just me to train you, or do you want--" "Nick...sit down," she said and pushed the chair next to her out. Once he sat, she took in a deep breath and told him, "I think I want it to be you who trains me, but I'm not sure I can ignore the fact that MacLeod is the first Immortal I've met who didn't want to kill me. The only one, I might add." "You don't want to just walk away." "No, I don't. I want...like I said, I think I'd like to just have you train me, or I guess you and LaCroix, since he's probably not going to leave us alone." "But?" "But...I hate to admit it, but I've learned more in the last few weeks than I have in months. Granted, we hadn't really been training much in that time, and it's not like MacLeod has really corrected me too much, so--" "So we did something right." "Very." "But I don't have the technical knowledge to really train you. Even LaCroix hasn't--" "But you can gain that, right? You can and you're all right with learning that?" she asked and watched his expression blank a little. "And by practicing with you and LaCroix--even better if I actually trained with you like I have with MacLeod--I'm probably stronger than I would be if you were mortal or Immortal. I mean your problem isn't so much not being good, but it having been, well, centuries since you had any reason to even use a sword. And I mean really having to use one, not just for show or because it was expected until you...ah..." "Killed my opponent without a sword." "Yeah." "Or after they thought they had killed me." "Exactly." "I'm not proud of it, Nat." "I know, but what I'm trying to say is you--or LaCroix for that matter, even if he didn't hate me--haven't actually had any real reason for properly using a sword since you were mortal, and both of you were only exposed to certain fighting techniques. So don't feel bad that I've done better more recently with MacLeod. It's not your fault." "But I could have--" "Nick...what I said about wanting it to be you who trains me is the truth. But this is the first time we've really talked about, well, you needing to actually learn more--and not from LaCroix--and I'm not trying to make you feel bad, either. We haven't talked about it but need to...or I guess I need to know if it is or isn't something you're interested in." "It is something I'm interested in, Nat." "All right, but what about the other part?" she asked and watched his expression darken further. "Nick?" "You want to stay here or stay in contact with MacLeod." "Kind of. I want to at least be open to the possibility, and if we leave and cut contact, I don't want it to be on bad terms." "And what about his friends? His Immortal friends. If they see me now and then again in another ten, twenty, thirty years..." "We'll have to think of something." "I don't want us to have to kill every Immortal we run into, Nat." "I know, but I don't think MacLeod is going to spread around what we are, and at least if he has any friends...hopefully they won't, either." "Hopefully," Nick repeated. Natalie could sense his distaste at the idea. She understood why--vampires were probably more prone to persecution than Immortals, and Immortals could hunt Nick for not one lifetime, but many. But from MacLeod she also had the impression he understood, possibly better than most, the danger. And MacLeod's friend, Darius, had never spoken of LaCroix or vampires even to his Immortal friends, apparently. "If they aren't willing to keep your secret, then they certainly won't be my friend, Nick...and if MacLeod is as much like you as he seems to me, they might not be his friend, either. Besides, if one of them speaks, I don't think either one of us will be the real danger." "LaCroix," Nick whispered. "Yeah. He'll, what, snap their necks, then behead them while they're unconscious. And he's not outside listening, is he?" Natalie asked, now worried. She watched as Nick again closed his eyes, then he shook his head. "Good. I really don't want him listening in right now." "You could leave," he said after a pause. "No, no, he's just not who I want to listen into my rambling thoughts--I don't want to give him any ideas," she quickly said, but the comment worried her a little. "Unless that's what you want? I know you didn't exactly sign up for this. Nor did I, but--" "I signed up for it, Nat. Maybe not specifically, but I'm not going to walk away; you should know that by now. But since we're talking..." Natalie tensed. "Nat, I'm not going to just leave you unless it's what you want. If it is--" "It's not, Nick. Don't say another thing about that." She relaxed a little, but fidgeted because she had run out of things to say. "So..." "So you want me to train you and you want to, at least for now, stay here in Paris." She nodded, thankful for the summary, but then she shook her head. "Yes on the first, but on the second, I think it's more see how it goes, first. I haven't thought much about where I'd rather live--and work if I do that, if we do that--but I don't know if I could here in Paris. If we do, then we really need to do more French lessons. But--and before you offer--I'm also not too worried about this yet. We'll figure it out...we'll figure everything out, I'm sure." When Nick then stood and took a couple steps toward her, she startled a little. Even more when he took her hands. "Nick..." "Come on, let's sit somewhere else." "I don't want to go outside or go to bed..." "The sofa." Natalie relaxed a little and let Nick pull her up and turn her. She still felt a bit hesitant because where they were going was not only on the ground floor, but was probably LaCroix' favorite room beyond the study...which was too quiet for long periods even for him. But the sofa would be much more comfortable than the stiff wooden chairs of the kitchen, and so she let Nick gently guide her out of the kitchen and down the stairs. Future Tense - (34/36) "Are you sure you don't want to meet next week?" MacLeod asked at the end of their meeting two weeks later. Natalie looked at Nick, but he just told her, "It's your choice, Nat." They had loosely decided not to meet MacLeod again...or at least not the following week. When they had met that night, he had given the suggestion that they could try it alone for the next month or two and then meet. While he didn't entirely trust MacLeod, he did trust the other's assessments...even more than he did his own or LaCroix', the latter of which was typically accompanied by unnecessary commentary. "Nat?" "Ah, yes, I'm sure. At some point or another, I won't have your help; you didn't need to help me at all and still don't. Just telling me more about what I am...that's all we really wanted." "And are you sure you don't want to meet me alone?" MacLeod now asked of Nick. Nick tensed, but nodded. Then as the other was about to ask another question, he said, "Yes, I'm sure. We need to do this on our own, without help. There wouldn't be much point to trying it on our own if I still had help. As Natalie said, you've done more than enough already. Giving us feedback in a few weeks or months will be more than enough help. One of us will call you to set up a time." "You really don't like trusting others, do you?" Nick looked away, both because of the question and because he was ready to leave. Rather than just admitting it or denying the guess, he told the other, "People that trust me--my friends, even Natalie's friends--get hurt or killed. And what I am...I always have to keep secrets from others. I have no choice but to not trust others, at least not entirely or with everything." "But you trust Natalie." "I didn't at first. It took a long time--longer than I sometimes stay in one place--before I really trusted her." "Don't take Nick's or my hesitancy to trust as being personal...it's not," she told him. "I used to think it was. It took time before I realized Nick doesn't trust easily because he can't. And it's easier to pick out what he is than what we are. People notice he can't go out during the day, he doesn't eat or drink normal foods, doesn't get sick...and they react, sometimes with more than words." "And, again, knowing about what I am, who I am...it's dangerous." "And Natalie knows--has known for--" "And I covered up for Nick, smoothed things over, kept attention away from him and others like him. I'm sure that made me more of an asset than a danger. And I later proved that by...ah, something I shouldn't tell you." "It's...complicated," Nick said. "It's not that I don't want to trust others, but as Natalie said I can't, not without putting those people in danger. People like you." "And I'm an Immortal, just like Natalie. You can't--" "I can still hurt you; my kind can still hurt you, even kill you." "Is that why you don't want me to keep helping Natalie? Because of this? Was it even her choice--" "It was my choice," Natalie said. "Completely my choice. Yes, Nick agrees with it, but he let it be my choice. I need to do this as much on my own as possible...for me." "And you two aren't going to just disappear?" Nick tensed. "Or is that why you don't want to meet for so long?" "We're not going to disappear, or not yet," he answered. "You'll see us again." Then he turned to Natalie and took her hand. "Nat, come on," he whispered and started pulling her gently toward the exit. They were done for tonight. He had no desire to talk more about either what he was or his distrustfulness, at least not now and not with MacLeod. He felt thankful when the other man didn't say anything; MacLeod had stopped offering them rides after the first couple times, and he knew they'd contact him to set up a time to meet. Once outside, however, Natalie asked that he not take them all of the way home. He did as asked, but not entirely for her. He sensed someone following them--LaCroix. The other man had been conspicuously absent during their sessions with MacLeod after the first couple...until tonight. Setting down near an alley entrance, the first thing Nick did was put a finger up to Natalie's lips and mouth his sire's name. "Come out, LaCroix," he said and turned, immediately zoning in on the direction the other vampire was in. In moments his maker stood before him looking unusually pleased. He had feared they would have another argument, which was why he had wanted to deal with this now rather than after they returned to the apartment, but LaCroix looked... "What are you so happy about?" "You, of course." "Why?" "Why do you think? I don't like the idea of another of her kind training her, even temporarily." "Even though he's better with a sword than even you are?" "It's not the training that bothers me, Nicholas. It's the same thing that bothers you. This Immortal has friends. Even if you try to avoid them, it doesn't mean they won't come looking for him during your meetings." Nick felt nervous at LaCroix' words...said as though they were a fact. "You've been spying on him." "Yes, and he does have Immortal friends...or I would guess they are by how they speak with him. And one...one reminds me of a slave that once insulted me a long time ago." "When you were mortal," he guessed and saw the other's mood darken a little. "Which means if he was an Immortal then, he's older than you." "Perhaps. That one knows of us, of what we are, and of you and Natalie. The young man I've seen...he knows nothing of us as of yet. And then there is a woman; she could be a problem if she keeps digging for answers and he either gives them or she follows him." "So he hasn't said anything about us? About Natalie or what her friend is?" "No, or not that I am aware. His behavior tells he's keeping your secrets. For now." "We're not cutting contact with him, LaCroix," Nick said. "Not yet, and if we do, it's--" "Natalie's choice. Yes, I heard," LaCroix replied and glanced at Natalie for a moment. "But I'm sure she'll make the right choice in time." He stared at his sire's returning grin as the other took off, vanishing from sight. He also stopped following them, and Nick gently tugged on Natalie's hand toward the street, but she pulled back. "Nick...what if I choose to stay in contact with MacLeod? What if we were to stay here, in Paris, and what if we talked to him regularly?" "Doing that isn't a wrong choice, Nat. He'll just have to deal with it." "But if I did and it led to you or both of you being outed for what you are to MacLeod's friends..." "He'll have to deal with it. As long as they don't tell anyone else, everything will be fine. LaCroix can choose to stay or leave--whichever he really wants." "But what if LaCroix tells someone--and I think you know who--that certain people know what you are." "He wouldn't tell the Enforcers with me involved, Nat. He's met them and he knows he'd have no chance against them...nor would you or I. He wouldn't risk it." "But if someone tells..." "Then he or I will have to deal with it." "Which means--" "You know what it means," he mumbled, not wanting to think about this, either. He nearly dreaded the next month or two. He hoped he could really, truly teach Natalie, but what if he couldn't? And what if something did happen? He didn't want to have to kill anyone he didn't absolutely have to...nor did he want LaCroix to take matters into his own hands. "Nick..." "Let's just walk. If it's not what you want to do...it's what I want to do now, too," he admitted. Then, after they had walked a block and a half he abruptly told Natalie, "I want to see about getting a different sword. I don't like using the one I've been using." He paused, but kept walking, then explained, "He never even introduced himself, and it doesn't feel right." "Because of not knowing his name, or because it's heavier than you'd like?" "Both...or maybe just the first, but since it's going to be a little while before we see MacLeod again..." "You want to see about getting a new one now." "Yes." "Or me... We could find me something different, and--" "No, or not intentionally. You've become used to mine and it works well for you. Even MacLeod thought so. I'll find something else." "So, sword shopping..." He smiled seeing Natalie grin at him. "Something like that." "You don't have another home somewhere? Or does LaCroix have something you might want?" "He...doesn't keep many things." "He doesn't... After all we moved in the apartment--" "Most of which was furniture, and there are a couple of empty rooms. I don't know if he would or could even have a sword somewhere, but I would guess he doesn't." "Then it's not something like sword shopping, but actually finding some...store that has some, I guess. Right?" "Yeah. Something I should have done long before now." "Are you going to want me to come with you, or..." He thought a moment before nodding. Yes, he wanted Natalie to come with him. "Nick?" "Yes, but not tonight." "Of course not tonight." Nick got a playful shove with the reply and he smiled again. "Then what do you want to do?" "I want...I want to try and really settle here, I guess. For now, anyway. The future is still...it feels like we're at a standstill. I'm still not used to having so much extra time." "You'll never really get used to it." "LaCroix has." "Because he has something to do," Nick said, his smile vanishing again. While he didn't like not having much to do, he had had eight centuries to become accustomed to boredom. But Natalie... It had been close to a year that she had been immortal...and close to a year she hadn't had something to focus on. But she seemed uncertain. She didn't mention working, just settling, which...for the most part they had. They'd have to talk more, he supposed. Future Tense - (35/36) The next two months flew by. Nick had been busy learning and then teaching Natalie, and Natalie's solution to filling her extra time had been to volunteer at a medical clinic. He had been surprised at that because she didn't feel proficient enough in the language to work there in France, but after a few weeks he had noticed she not only seemed a bit happier, but her French improved...probably from interacting with more people. And actually using the language. They hadn't had much luck speaking French at home before then, but it had gone better now that she had some real world practice. She even went out on her own, although he followed in secret whenever he felt he could. The first time they had gone back, MacLeod had seemed impressed at how much Natalie had learned. He had also spent a great deal of time teaching her how to disarm an opponent, and that's just what she had managed. He didn't know if she could do it in a real fight. He knew MacLeod had just been caught off guard. He hadn't been expecting it, not when or how she had done it. They had last met the previous week, and MacLeod had suggested something to him in private that he had, after several days of careful consideration, accepted. Natalie hadn't run into any more Immortals since their return to Paris months ago, nor had she met any of MacLeod's acquaintances beyond Dawson. Apparently the female friend of MacLeod's had pried at least something out of MacLeod, and she was part of the plan. Nick had done some spying after the suggestion, and he didn't know if he really liked this other Immortal. From what he had overheard she was, in simple terms, a liar and a thief...the latter for fun and the former he supposed because it came with the territory. If he didn't trust MacLeod, he certainly didn't trust this woman, but MacLeod seemed to trust her--to a point, anyway. The suggestion had been to see how Natalie would cope against this friend...and he had been right in suspecting this was the female friend MacLeod had mentioned as being older. She was older than he was...even older than Janette by a little bit. He hadn't told anyone of the plan. Not Janette, who he hadn't again visited at her new home, not Natalie, and not LaCroix. The latter had been simple as LaCroix had left Paris again, and knowing LaCroix would be gone for a few days made it easier to accept MacLeod's plan. He didn't feel right about not telling Natalie, but knew it was necessary to really see how she would react. Tonight Natalie had gone on her own to where she volunteered, and now she was walking home. Like he did when he could, he followed, but this time he stayed ahead of her. So was MacLeod and MacLeod's friend, Amanda. He hadn't actually met her as of yet, but he had caught a glimpse of her before he had finally settled where he could watch...both he and MacLeod. "I was starting to wonder if you'd let her come." "She got delayed." "You followed her. I bet she doesn't like that." "She won't like this, either, not when she finds out it's a game and that I knew about it," Nick said, his eyes on the alley entrance Natalie would be either led, pointed, or forced down. He first narrowed his eyes, then closed them to concentrate. He knew the sound of Natalie's heart and footsteps so well that even now he could pick them out...when she was a good five or six blocks away. "Are they coming?" "Not yet, but soon," Nick whispered and opened his eyes to fixate on the alley entrance. "Five minutes, maybe." Then he turned to MacLeod. "And you're sure she won't sense you?" "No, I'm not sure, but as long as she doesn't see us, she'll just think Amanda has a partner." "And distract her." "Amanda won't hurt her." "She doesn't know that." "You're having second thoughts." "I have since you brought the idea up." He turned back toward the end of the alley to wait and watch. "You could stop it; you could get to Amanda before Natalie runs into her, tell her the plan is off." While tempted, Nick shook his head. He wanted to know how Natalie would react to running into another Immortal; moreover, he wanted to know how she would handle it when he wasn't there. And, like it or not, it could make Natalie feel more confident in her own abilities...or that's what he hoped. It'd depend upon what happened. Right now all he could do was wait, and wait he did, listening as her steps steadily approached. As she came closer, he could sense that she didn't feel afraid...for a few more moments, anyway. Then her steps faltered, surely because she had sensed MacLeod's friend. Nick instinctively took a step forward, but stopped at that one step. He had to stay where he was; he had to stay out of sight, at least for the moment. It was only a few moments before he saw Natalie back into the alley and she looked and sounded to his ears to be frightened. He watched her search for some way out, somewhere to run to, but he knew she'd see no way out. He almost smiled when she gave up looking for an escape, but soon after she had to fight and any hint of pleasure left him. At least the woman didn't seem to be as skilled with a sword as MacLeod, and Natalie didn't seem to be struggling much at all. As the two women neared, however, Nick could see that Natalie was looking upwards toward the roof lines when she could...for him. And then he saw it--she reacted to MacLeod's presence, and he quickly stepped back, pulling MacLeod back by the arm as he did so. He waited there a moment, then turned and headed down through the building they hid in toward street level. He had to trust that Amanda wouldn't hurt Natalie, but he wanted to be there as soon as the game was up. He would have to suffer, waiting out of sight, until then. And wait he did, eyes closed, listening, until the end. Natalie ended up disarming Amanda and she didn't put down the sword right away, even when the other woman tried to surrender. Amanda was backing away from Natalie and her raised sword as he exited into the alley. Natalie didn't quite see him. Instead, her attention shifted somewhere off to his right--MacLeod. "See? MacLeod, tell her I'm your friend before she kills me." "If you were his friend, you should have said so!" Natalie said, and didn't lower her sword. "And you're the one who--" "Nat, it's all right; put it down," Nick said as he approached and stepped between the two women. "You...and you!" she said, rounding on MacLeod who had also approached. "It was you two watching that...this was a set up!" she yelled and started at MacLeod with the sword. Nick flinched and went after her, being careful not to use any of his speed. He didn't get there before she had the sword pointing right at MacLeod's retreating neck, but it only lasted a second before he pried the weapon from her hand as he held her from behind. "Natalie, just listen..." "It was my idea," Amanda said from behind them. Nick slowly shifted until he and Natalie faced the other woman. "I knew MacLeod was up to something, and when I found out what...I suggested this." "And you two seriously thought this was a good idea?" Natalie asked, jabbing her elbow back into Nick as she broke free. "We didn't think it was a bad idea," he answered. "I knew you'd be upset, but I thought it could be a good thing for you." "You thought this would be *good* for me? Really?" Nick flinched again, and this time looked away. "Look, Duncan told me that you'd had several bad encounters with...lately...and no good ones." "Nick knows what I am, what all of us are, and if MacLeod told you what happened--" "And if he's been your teacher, he must know how to use a sword..." Nick tensed as Amanda's attention turned toward him. He could see her suspicion, which actually calmed him a little. It meant she thought he was mortal. For now, anyway. "And well." As Amanda looked him over, Nick felt distinctly reminded of Janette...but not. He couldn't explain it. "Yes, well, Nick has some strange hobbies." "Like?" "You're not here because of me," he said even as Amanda stepped closer. "Maybe I should be," she said, then walked by him to get her sword. "So how did she do?" "Yes, how *did* I do since this was some elaborate prank," Natalie said, her attention shifting between the other three and eventually settling on Amanda. "You did more than fine considering you've been one of us less than a year." "Considering that or because my teacher is mortal?" "Both." "How would I have done if that had been real?" "It was real; you would have beheaded me if your friend hadn't been there to stop you." "And?" "And...what?" "Were you, I don't know, holding back?" "I...no, I didn't hold back." Nick narrowed his eyes a little at the stumbled reply. "Could you beat your friend, MacLeod?" "Maybe, depending on the circumstances." "So probably not," he guessed. "Amanda would prefer to run or con her opponent, isn't that right?" "Now, Duncan..." "He told me a little about you," Nick said, drawing her attention. "Really?" "You've lived longer than...a millennia," he carefully said, nearly slipping. "I'd think in that time any, maybe all of your kind, have run at least once. It's as natural to flee as it is to try and fight. It's a matter of survival." "You sound as if you're speaking from experience." "Just the last year or so," he lied and an uncomfortable silence grew between them all. "Did you even give me your real name?" Natalie asked after over a minute. "Yes." "And it is?" Nick asked, although he did know her first name. "Amanda Darieux, if you must know. And yours? I don't know anything about you beyond that you are her friend, her teacher." "Nick Knight." "Knight, hmm? Is that why you learned how to use a sword?" "Perhaps." "Well, now that everyone has been introduced...why don't we go down to the barge?" Nick didn't like that idea at all, but he forced a smile. "Nat?" he asked, hoping she'd refuse the invitation. Even before she spoke, he knew her answer from her look--she wanted to go, and knew her decision would disappoint him. "It's okay. We'll do whatever you want." "You sure?" "Yeah. We can go if you want to go." Natalie looked at MacLeod and nodded. "All right. We'll, I guess, talk for a bit." Nick felt nervous, but walked with her after MacLeod. He didn't feel comfortable with the attention Amanda gave him as they walked, but he hoped she'd focus in on Natalie once they reached MacLeod's home. Future Tense - (36/36) Natalie had relaxed some after their talk, although she now better understood Nick's concern of being discovered for what he was. She didn't know if she liked MacLeod's friend. Amanda reminded her of both Janette and LaCroix, although her intentions seemed more innocent, more mischievous than intentionally harmful. She still didn't like it, nor did she like how Amanda examined Nick that whole evening. It had now been a week, and she hadn't seen Amanda or MacLeod in that time. Nick, however, had been watching the other man's barge whenever he could...and her, if she had to guess. It didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. In truth, going out on her own was a little nerve-wracking, although as had been kind of planned after her encounter with Amanda, she felt a bit more confident. She had, supposedly, beat an almost twelve hundred year old opponent. She seriously doubted Amanda had gotten to be that old solely by seeking alternate ways to survive the situation, but Natalie couldn't tell if the other woman had really done all she could to fight her, or if she had let her win. Or maybe she had just taken the other by surprise; she had eventually used Nick's trick to disarm Amanda, the same one she had used on MacLeod that first time they met with him after Nick had resumed teaching her. Upon waking that afternoon, Natalie found herself alone in the bedroom, and she immediately headed downstairs in search of Nick. It wasn't quite sunset, so she at least knew he had to be there. She only found him once she reached the study, where she found him with his back to her and a long box laid out on the desk. "When did that get here?" "A few minutes ago." "A few...Nick, you should have let me get that." "It was fine." Natalie set her jaw for a second before brushing her anger away with curiosity. Starting forward, she asked, "What is it?" "Remember that shop we went into over a month ago? The owner that said he could get something he thought I'd like?" "He mailed it to you?" "More like he had it mailed directly to me." Stepping right up to Nick's side, she got a glimpse of the sword just as he lifted it out of the box. It looked vaguely like the one they had found at his place in London, but if she had to guess the blade was slightly longer and wider. The hilt--the curved up guard, specifically--was more ornate than her sword, but otherwise they were both fairly plain looking swords. "And?" she asked as he spun and hefted it in his hand, feeling the weight, after which he held it straight out. He smiled. "You like it, don't you?" "Yes, I think so." Natalie watched as Nick's smile mellowed out, and she recognized something in his look. "You've had a sword like this before," she stated, but all it did was get him to put the sword back in the box. "Nick?" "Yes, a long time ago." "Long time as in when you were mortal or--" "When I was mortal, yes. It's not exact, but it's close...more similar than the other one. And it'll work just fine." "Hmm, and not be attached to the Immortal that never introduced himself before we killed him." "Yes," he whispered. "Are you going to sell the old one?" Natalie asked, but immediately she caught a slight shake of his head. "Nick?" "No. I'll either toss it in the river or leave it somewhere. Or donate it. It's not worth much, but maybe it won't be used again." He flipped the box closed, then turned and tensed. Natalie noticed Nick's reaction and turned around as well to find LaCroix walking slowly toward them. "You're back already?" "As it seems." "Is it even sunset?" "Close enough, as I'm sure you can see." Natalie got his hint--no burns. But she also noticed LaCroix looked almost flushed. Unlike before when he had come back from being gone he had fed recently, and probably from something living. LaCroix finally tore his eyes from Natalie, but then looked at the box on the table. "What is that, Nicholas?" "Don't you know?" "I can guess, but I'd like to see for myself," he said and pushed his way in between the two. He flipped the lid back, then picked up the sword much like his son had. "And?" Natalie asked, but she didn't see much of a reaction. He was just looking at it, curiously. "For Nicholas?" "Yes, for me." "Good. Maybe if you're not distracted by the one you have, you'll do better training Natalie." "He has." "I have been doing better training Natalie." "Ah, yes, Monsieur MacLeod..." "And you missed the show," she added, knowing it would draw LaCroix' attention. "Nick sort of planned something with MacLeod and one of his Immortal friends. Set me up so to speak, made me think it was a real fight." "He told--" "Only that he was helping another Immortal," Nick said. "She doesn't know what Nick is, just that he's my friend and been trying to teach me. And, assuming she's not lying, I beat her, and she's older than Nick by a little under four hundred years. Which I guess means I'm not entirely doomed, or might not be. And might be a sign that, maybe, I don't need more help beyond Nick's help. That's good, isn't it? I mean less opportunity for someone to see what Nick is if he accidentally uses what he is." "Less opportunity... I suppose that means you don't plan on leaving Paris soon?" "It's not planned. You know I've been volunteering, and--" "And you've made new friends." She winced at LaCroix' clear distaste, but at least he put the sword back. "Natalie isn't content with isolating herself from the world. Neither am I. And we don't have solid plans on either leaving or staying beyond that we'll stay, I'd guess, at least a few months more?" Nodding at the question, Natalie agreed, "Yes, at least a few months more, unless something happens. After that...you'll just have to wait." "And wait you will, LaCroix. Either accept our choices or leave. If you try to force us out...we will retaliate." "I didn't say anything about forcing you out," he smiled. "I was merely wondering if I'd have to move everything...wherever." "Move what? You travel light, you always have," Nick countered. LaCroix grinned. "I have found something to do with my time as well, Nicholas. I'm surprised you haven't noticed." "What--" "Third floor." Natalie felt a little confused, then after Nick immediately left the room, she followed. As he took the steps two at a time and she didn't, she arrived several moments after him to find something that looked vaguely like-- "You're doing your radio show again?" Nick asked, turning. "Of a sort. I thought I might try broadcasting over the internet." "Why, so you can corrupt the whole world rather than just one city?" Natalie asked, turning away from the sound-proofed room and the computer and other equipment, but LaCroix' smile didn't falter. "The world is already corrupt, my dear..." "And the corrupted need guidance, don't they," Nick said, which brightened the other man's grin. "Something like that." "You are aware they could trace it back to you, to here." "If they trace it to here, it will not be to me--or you." "Ah, yes, this is under a pseudonym, isn't it?" "Do you really think he'll have enough fans that would be willing to track him here?" Natalie asked, vaguely of Nick, but her attention turned quickly back to LaCroix. "And if they did..." "If they did, I would send them away," LaCroix finished. "Would you, really?" "Of course, Nicholas. When have I ever allowed others--beyond you and Janette, and now Natalie--to come to my home even *with* an invitation?" "Not even a year ago in Toronto. You lived at the club." "I lived *over* the club, not in the club. You never even ventured into that part of the Raven, not since Janette had left." LaCroix' smile dimmed. "It will not be a problem, Nicholas, I will see to it. And if I do not, you may do whatever you wish." "How long?" Nick asked. "Since a couple of weeks after Natalie started spending her time at that clinic." "And you took advantage of the time we both spent away nearly every night," Natalie guessed, knowing Nick didn't stay at the apartment the entire time she was gone. If not watching either her or MacLeod, he had probably been working on her next lesson. And LaCroix hadn't been watching either of them much that she could tell...not that she could really tell. "LaCroix? Is that--" "Yes, Nicholas, that is when I've been working on it," LaCroix said as he walked pass Natalie and further into the room, which had been turned into an eclectic office of sorts. "Now, are you two going out now, or..." "In a little while. I think we'd like to know what you've come up with. Right, Nat?" "Yeah." "All in time. I'll let you know how to listen...assuming you don't stumble upon it accidentally, first. Now...why not some breakfast...after you get ready." Natalie looked down at her shirt, then over at Nick...which all she could see was his robe. Yes, if they were going to go somewhere tonight, they had to get dressed. Reluctantly she left, then waited outside for Nick, who seemed even more hesitant to leave. "Nick..." "It's fine. I just didn't expect it. And he's right, we should go get dressed and eat something...unless you don't plan on going out tonight." "Oh, no, I said I'd be at the clinic tonight, so I'm going. And I suppose I can go a little early." She gave Nick a forced smile, then started up toward their room. Ten minutes later, they were all in the kitchen, but not for long. Natalie had some bread heated up in the microwave with some cream cheese on it while both Nick and LaCroix drank down over a glass each. While Nick had had to force it down, LaCroix looked like he wanted more...despite already looking well fed. That had bothered both her and Nick, but they hadn't said a thing. Arguing wasn't worth it. Once they left, walking toward the clinic, she eventually said, "So LaCroix has resigned himself to us staying here a bit longer." "Apparently," Nick whispered back. "Unless you don't want to stay any longer or know you want to leave soon." "No, he just seemed like he wanted to leave, wanted us to leave, to move. I'm not sure what to think about his change of opinion." "It's a good thing, Nat. He's accepted what we're doing." "You mean what I'm doing...volunteering, my sort of friendship with MacLeod..." "Yes." "He's accepted...whatever this is." "You know what this is, or I thought we did." "A new life," Natalie whispered back. "Exactly. First and foremost it's you and me. Don't worry about what he does; let me worry about him. He won't bother us. If he does..." "He knows we'll retaliate," she sighed. "I just...I keep waiting for him to...do something. Him or someone else. If we're forced to leave, it might not even be because of him." "We'll deal with it when it comes to it. If we have to, we can always try moving away from people. We might even get rid of LaCroix that way." "Hmm, and I'd go insane. You would, too." "Probably, but I don't think we have much to worry about, not really. And you've been doing good, or I thought?" "I'm doing fine, Nick. I just know not to let my guard down around him. I know you don't, either. And...and in a few hours, when I'm done...I want to go do something. Movie, theater...you pick something, all right?" "And I guess I'll see if LaCroix is up to a practice session." "To see if you like the sword?" "To see if it can withstand actually being used. I'll keep it regardless, but it's probably a good idea to test it before I get rid of the other one." "We can wait to do that." "No, I'll test it and, I guess, think up something for us to do." "Is it going to be on my list?" "Maybe...maybe not," he smiled. "It better not be either of the things on my list after that," she teased back. "Then it won't be." Natalie both pursed her lips and smiled at Nick's reply. She liked it when he smiled so openly like this, but knew he wouldn't be for long. "Well, go on...and try not to get too...hurt." "You mean try to avoid being killed...and I will. I'll pick you up." "In a car or--" she started as she turned when he pulled away, forcing her to stop. "I'll pick you up," he repeated with an even wider smile. In a split-second, he was gone. Natalie stood there for a few seconds before resuming her path. She liked walking like this, although it made her feel more vulnerable...but not as vulnerable as she would have felt if she had still been mortal. This was a new life, a completely new life, and they were both finally relaxing into it. They were finally starting to shape their future, rather than reacting. Through everything, she knew she had changed...and so had Nick. She wasn't sure all the changes were for the better. She was now afraid of fewer things--especially vampires, namely LaCroix--and she supposed that was better...but Nick also used what he was more. A lot more. Then there was that he had now been exclusively drinking human blood for most of the last year. Yet despite that, other than when he had killed Carver, Nick had seemed more in control--and for a longer stretch of time--than she had ever seen. It made her sad to know that as long as she lived he would give up his want for mortality. She hoped to eventually have some promising cure for him in case she was killed, but things felt different now. They had more time. Too much time, in a way. It made it acceptable to push things off, something she didn't want to do any more. She had done that enough in Toronto, and they had done that enough since she had become Immortal. She had long planned to try and find a cure for Nick in case something happened to her, but he avoided talking about it. But once she did...then everything would be in some sort of place. She could see staying here for some time. She liked the volunteer work, something she never thought she would have liked. She had gone into forensics for a reason--to avoid live patients. And now...now she found she didn't mind it at all, and neither did any of the people she saw or interacted with. She did, however, look forward to doing things more or less on her own schedule at some point in the future. She knew she'd still like working in a lab...and at some point she would. She didn't see herself becoming a full-time doctor whether as a general practitioner or something more specific, not unless she became a medical examiner again, which she didn't think she would. It'd be too easy to run into other Immortals in that job, she suspected, and she didn't want to invite trouble. She hoped Nick would be able to get a job similar to hers--perhaps they'd indeed both go into academia--whenever they moved and actually went back to working...assuming they did both at the same time. That's the one thing she dreaded. She didn't want to end up working days while Nick worked nights on opposite sides of a city. She wouldn't let that happen, but knew she'd worry until they really started working again. Before that could happen, she needed to learn more. She wanted to be able to surprise LaCroix, beat him if she could, and that wouldn't happen overnight. As Natalie walked, her worries about those few lingering questions settled and she wondered what Nick would plan. She couldn't think of much that he had hinted at but not followed through with. He had once either suggested or threatened--she wasn't sure--to fly her up to the top of the Eiffel Tower. They had never actually gone there. More specifically, they had walked by it, but not up it. She both hoped that would and would not be what they'd do. Pushing that new worry out of her thoughts, Natalie focused on walking to her destination. Once there she'd have work to focus on and Nick's choice of what to do would be a surprise...a good one, she knew, regardless what he picked. ~finis~ Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story! Dark Chocolate, White Chocolate, comments, etc. gratefully accepted at: JarviniaFK@gmail.com Jarvinia http://www.gryffonslair.com @>--,---`---