A Trial Run
Written Jan-Apr 2012
Posted August 2016
Jarvinia


When it comes down to it, this story is primarily set in the Stargate
SG-1 universe rather than the Forever Knight one, although it may not
seem that way at first.

Hill AFB also gets mentioned a couple of times, and is both a real place
(near Ogden, Utah) and exists in the Stargate universe (SG-1 flew there
in Touchstone from Season 2 in order to get to the second gate).  No
harm is intended by using the aforementioned location or the characters
from either Forever Knight or Stargate SG-1.  Much like with Stargate,
FK is based in an otherwise 'normal' Earth reality beyond some quirks.

_______________

A Trial Run - (01/32)

About to murder his troubled child, LaCroix heard the soft flutter of
the mortal's failing heart.  Too late to stop the arc of the staff, he
altered his action from stabbing Nicholas' back with the wooden staff to
swinging it horizontally.  The thick end impacted the side of the
younger man's skull with a strange crack, bone and wood breaking,
splintering.

LaCroix stared down, stunned at what he had just done, even while
Natalie's heart managed another few quick, desperate contractions.  She
was not dead as his son believed and proclaimed.  Even he had believed
it, and he was not easily fooled.

He knew Natalie would be dead in moments, but seconds ticked by while he
stared at the two doomed lovers, his mind racing, trying to decide what
to do.  He could hear her heart fluttering, calling to anyone that would
listen, and it pushed him into a course of action.  He would see to it
that she lived...if he could.

LaCroix slowly stepped around his son and knelt between the two.
Initially he bit into his own wrist with the plan to use his own blood,
but he pulled his hand away at the last moment, his precious blood
dripping onto Natalie's neck and blazer rather than into her mouth.  He
had a better idea.  Reaching to his other side, he took one of Nicholas'
limp hands, leaned over, and bit into the younger man's wrist.
Carefully, he pulled his son nearer, propping him up against himself,
and gave Natalie her soon to be true lover's blood.

She didn't swallow the blood, and in moments her heart finally came to a
halt.  Even her nearly imperceptible shallow breaths had ceased.
Abandoning his hold on his weak and unconscious son, LaCroix moved
closer to Natalie, lifting her carefully into a sitting position.  He
held her jaw shut and let her head loll back so the blood would trickle
down her throat.

LaCroix simply sat, holding her for several minutes, whispering gentle
urgings to wake in her ear.  He didn't know if his hesitation or use of
Nicholas' blood had resulted in her death, or if she would still wake.
Nicholas would recover quickly from the blow to the head; Natalie
ideally had to wake before then.  If she woke at all.  Then she would
need blood, and he doubted Nicholas had any adequately fresh human blood
in his home.

More minutes passed and still Natalie did not stir.  The wound on his
wrist and even his son's had healed; the punctures in her neck had not,
and likely wouldn't until she woke and fed.

LaCroix closed his eyes and held her tightly for a moment, then with a
split-second cringe he quickly picked her limp body up off the floor and
stood.  In a flash he flew upstairs and easily manoeuvred through the
doorway and into the bedroom.  He laid her gently on the bed, touching
her still warm cheek for a moment.  He sat next to her and closed his
eyes, waiting for the first spark of renewed life.

He didn't know how much time passed before he sensed something, but it
didn't come from Natalie.  In a rush he stood and flew from the room,
but upon landing below, he saw nothing.  He spun to ensure his senses
were not tricking him, but he was alone.  His son had woken...and left.
All that remained of the near murder-suicide scene was the splintered
staff.

He stood there for several seconds, torn between tracking down his
distraught son and returning to wait for Natalie to wake.  He nearly
left, but he knew that without Natalie--alive--he would have no hope of
reasoning with the other man.  And she would fare poorly if he left her
there alone.  If the only blood she could find when she woke was cow's
blood...  The very idea of his granddaughter as one of the lowly
carouche thoroughly disgusted him.  Even his son would likely baulk at
the idea.

Shutting his eyes for a moment, LaCroix returned quickly to the bedroom
and again sat on the edge of the bed.  Leaning over, he gently touched
the side of Natalie's neck and whispered, commanding, "You must return
to me now.  You must wake to your new life and your precious Nicholas."
He paused, shutting his eyes again.  "You must wake before he does
something foolish."

Still, she didn't stir.  Focusing, he did, however, sense...something.
He smiled, greatly relieved.  She would return to the living.  She would
not die.  Glancing to the clock, his good mood vanished.  Dawn was
approaching, and fast.  If his son was fleeing, he needed to stay as
close behind his child as possible.  Awake or not, Natalie would have to
come with him.  LaCroix once again stood and easily lifted her, then
carried her from the room.

His focus on his son's fading presence, LaCroix hurried from the loft
and after the other man, wanting to get as close as possible before the
sun rose.  And rise it did, but LaCroix sensed that the space between
them grew larger rather than smaller.  Natalie, while a very necessary
burden, slowed him down.  He could not dart forward while carrying her
because he did not wish to injure her--nor possibly kill her--with too
much sunlight.  She was fragile in this in-between state, while the
transformation was still taking place.  He also kept glancing down at
her to see if she was showing signs of waking, which slowed their
progress even further.

Nearly three hours after dawn, he finally felt her begin to stir in his
arms.  Needing to rest a moment himself, he laid her down in a shadowy
room of an abandoned and rather dilapidated house to wait.  He hovered
over her, again whispering to her, telling her to wake.

Eventually, her eyes fluttered open, and he grinned.  "Very good,
Natalie," he praised, brushing her hair gently back.

Waking to find herself face-to-face with LaCroix in unfamiliar
surroundings, Natalie shoved his hand away, sat up, and scooted back
until she hit a wall.  "You," she breathed, her eyes darting from
LaCroix to the dingy walls of the room they occupied.  How did she get
here?  Where was here?  Where was Nick?

He got to his feet, then he reached down and grasped one of Natalie's
wrists.  "Come."

She pulled back and managed to stay sitting on the floor near the wall,
but she couldn't pull out of his grip.  She wasn't about to follow
LaCroix anywhere until she knew what was going on and where Nick was.
"Where's Nick?"

"He believed he had killed you.  He is now fleeing in panic and
desperation," he quickly explained, then immediately resumed tugging her
toward an exterior door.  "Now come.  We cannot remain here."

This time Natalie had to stand when her arm was pulled harder, and she
first stumbled then instinctively tried to yank back.  When he turned on
her, angry, she forced herself not to react.  She wanted answers and
asked, "What do you mean he's fleeing?  What happened?"

"Either come with me, now, or I will leave you here!" he yelled,
releasing Natalie's wrist and heading for the door, knowing she would
follow.

She started after him, but flinched back when he opened the door,
letting in bright, indirect sunlight.  They appeared to be in a run-down
residential area.  "Where are we?"

"I am not sure," he admitted.  "Mississauga or thereabout."

"And Nick?"

LaCroix spun back again.  "I do not know!  I believe he may be heading
toward Detroit."  He then vanished outside.

Natalie swallowed and forced herself closer.  Her skin didn't like the
soft light much and she instinctively wanted to keep back, but she
didn't burn or feel searing pain.  She took a deep breath, then darted
after LaCroix.  She didn't have to go far.  He stood at the vine-covered
corner of the house, clearly waiting for her.  He snatched her wrist
again and, without warning, dragged her, her blood literally boiling,
across a sun-filled street.  She gasped, then tripped the moment the
scorching light stopped touching her skin and fell hard onto a cement
walkway.

Still having a steel-hard grip on Natalie's arm, LaCroix quickly pulled
her back onto her feet and closer to another house.  He could feel her
shaking, and they both had small burns.  They couldn't do that again,
not until she healed and fed.  They would have to stop until late in the
afternoon.  He pulled her silently through the shade past several houses
before settling on another with a rather overgrown yard and no
occupants.  Easily breaking the lock on the back door, he tugged her
inside after him.

Natalie abruptly found herself released as the door slammed shut and
LaCroix darted into the depths of the home.  This time the room was not
bare like where she had woken, but contained modest furniture.
Overcoming her slight shock, she started after LaCroix, whom she found
going through a closet.

"Search the other rooms."

"For what?"

He glanced behind him before specifying, "More protective clothes than
what you have on."  His eyes darted down her petite frame.  Her skirt
was only about knee length, and then there were her dress shoes.  "Some
more practical shoes would also be prudent."

Natalie didn't budge.  "First, I want to know what happened."

He hesitated only a second before telling her, "You have been brought
across."

"Obviously.  That is what I expected if Nick--"

"He took too much and believed you to be dead," he quickly explained.
"At first I also believed your life had been thoroughly extinguished."

She now could guess why Nick might have fled, and she asked, "So, what,
he left and you brought me across?"

"Not...in that order, but yes, more or less.  When I arrived, Nicholas
was unusually calm...despite your lifeless form.  He...asked that I end
his life."

Natalie took a small, involuntary step back.  She had expected that his
promise they would be together would mean he was willing to bring her
across, not for both of them to die.

"I was about to do as requested when I heard your heart struggle to
beat."  LaCroix turned away from Natalie and faced the closet he had
been searching through, but simply stood there.  "Instead of impaling
him with the staff he handed me, I swung it and knocked him unconscious.
I used his blood rather than my own to bring you back to us.  You are
his child, not mine."

"And he, what, left when he found out what you had done?" she asked,
knowing Nick hadn't been fond of the idea of bringing her across, of
making her like him.  But he had agreed...

"I took you to the bedroom, unsure whether you would die or return to
us.  I knew I might have been too late.  After all, he did take too much
of your blood, and I was also unable to give you as much of his blood as
I should have, but it seems love has indeed conquered death--in your
case."  LaCroix had other thoughts about that, but forced them back.  He
knew she loved his son, and he certainly loved her.  Continuing, he
finished, "While I waited for some sign that you would wake, Nicholas
regained consciousness and left.  Since I was with you, I had no chance
to explain, and it is unlikely he knows you still live."

Finally having what felt like the whole picture, she finished, "And you
followed, taking me with you."

"Of course."

"Do you know how far ahead he is?"

"No, but I do not believe he has stopped for the day."

"We can continue if--"

"No," LaCroix flatly said and returned to his task of hunting through
the homeowner's belongings.  He angrily shoved hangers to one side, then
he ceased again.  "Once night falls, you must learn quickly.  We must
reach him before he does something rash.  Now do as I asked."

Natalie remained frozen in place for a moment, then she turned and
returned to the small hallway and opened the nearest door, a bathroom.
She went to the next and found a larger bedroom--the home's master
bedroom, by the look of it--and she headed to the closet.  Once there,
however, she froze again, her mind still digesting what LaCroix had told
her.

It sounded to her as if Nick had no idea that she still lived or, more
accurately, that she had been brought across.  He surely believed that
she was dead and he had expected, perhaps even prepared to die.  Could
he himself possibly be dead now?  If not, would he be before the sun
set?  Would they be able to get to him before he did 'something rash' as
LaCroix had put it?  What was he thinking about while he fled?

Then there was another unspoken issue.  She was now a vampire, a brand
new vampire who hadn't yet had a taste of blood, beyond what was
required to bring her across.  She could already feel a gnawing hunger
growing within her, and she seriously doubted LaCroix would somehow
procure or otherwise provide her with bottled blood.

In the next few hours she would take a life, and that thought both
terrified and excited her.  When the time came, she knew she wouldn't
hesitate.  She would need blood in order to keep up with LaCroix and
find Nick.  If it came to it, she had no doubt LaCroix would chose Nick
over her.  He would leave her behind in an instant if she became a
liability to his goal.

Her thoughts focused, her determination set, Natalie went about flipping
through the clothes hung in the closet and the shoes laid out on a
couple of shelves below, hoping to find something appropriate.  She had
to ensure she could keep up, ensure she wouldn't be a burden to LaCroix'
search for Nick.

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

Once the sun started to go down, they left on foot, Natalie following
LaCroix.  Neither of them had slept at all, but she had at least found
better shoes in the closet.  She had also switched her skirt for slacks,
and they had both taken long coats.  Hers had a nice wide collar that
she had turned up; LaCroix' didn't.

Due to her hunger, she had difficulty following the older vampire in the
bright light from the low-hanging sun.  Every little heartbeat tugged at
her--birds, mice, dogs, cats, squirrels.  She felt like doubling over in
pain trying not to act on her want for blood.  Even the scent of
LaCroix' blood enticed her.  If not for that pulling her onward, she'd
surely have killed some animal by now.

They reached yet another street they had to cross, when suddenly her
hunger caught on a larger, stronger heart of a young man walking along
this street away from them.  In an instant, she changed from following a
couple of paces behind LaCroix, to veering off toward the mortal, who
she began to slowly stalk.  Instinctively, she knew to keep to the
shadows, and she crept alongside a bush when a hand lightly gripped her
arm.  She spun, first trying to pull out of the grip, then changing her
planned victim from the mortal to LaCroix.  She tried to lunge forward,
but he easily stopped her, and she hissed at him, baring her fangs in
anger.

"Control yourself!  It's dangerous to kill in the open.  Very dangerous.
You will feed soon, very soon--but not him."

Before Natalie could even begin to relax or regain her focus, her wrist
was encased in a vice grip and LaCroix again continued on his original
path with her in tow.  Several blocks of houses went by before she
managed to beat back her desire to attack and kill the nearest living
creature.  Then, however, they stopped.  She watched LaCroix shut his
eyes, apparently to listen.  A moment later he opened his now glowing
eyes, and glanced at her.  Even before he resumed pulling her forward
into one property's backyard, she knew what he was doing--what they were
doing.  Hunting.

Natalie's instincts roared to life.  She felt more excited than
frightened when he let go of her hand and silently broke in through the
back door of the home, forcing the lock with the vampires'
super-strength.  She could tell the house wasn't empty.  Inside were two
slow, unsuspecting hearts going about their daily routines.

Entering, LaCroix darted quickly in, not needing to give her any
encouragement to follow.  She was starving, and her new instincts would
leave her no choice but to do what she must to survive.

Passing through a small, enclosed patio of sorts, LaCroix quietly
entered the kitchen.  It was occupied.  He moved off to one side to give
Natalie a clear path to the young woman doing the dishes.  He turned to
his young protégé, and when her eyes met his, he nodded.  He grinned in
uncontrolled pleasure as she moved up behind the woman and struck in one
fluid motion without so much as a split-second of pause or hesitation.

The plate the woman had been drying slid from her hands to the floor,
where it shattered at her feet.  The mortal didn't even get a chance to
scream, her death swifter than if she had been hit by a car or some
other mundane death.  LaCroix could even feel a hint of Natalie's own
pleasure, her pure enjoyment, despite that any connection between them
coursed through Nicholas, who had put miles between them.

LaCroix' attention shifted abruptly when a man--probably the woman's
husband--entered the kitchen.  The man angrily yelled at Natalie, but
far too late.  As she let the woman's body slide down next to the
counter and turned, blood on her lips, LaCroix rushed toward the man,
who had moved forward in shock and anger toward his wife's attacker.

LaCroix grabbed him from behind, but didn't feed.  Instead he held the
mortal's head back, his hand under the man's chin so that he would
remain silent.  He smiled at Natalie, who took a couple of steps toward
him.  "However strong you now feel, you must feed again.  We will not
stop until either we reach Nicholas or dawn.  Come, Natalie, and feast.
Put this poor man out of his new-found misery.  Let him join his wife in
the hereafter."

Natalie barely heard all of what he said, her thoughts focused on
Nick...and wanting to get to him.  She stepped closer until she stood
right in front of the man.  He was scared and she no longer felt a
ravaging want of blood.  This time she did hesitate, and didn't outright
attack the man.  She watched LaCroix bite into the man's neck, then she
started to feed from him as well, the man's terrified blood and strong,
racing heart exciting her more than the woman's barely frightened blood
had.

Pulling back when she could no longer obtain more than a trickle,
Natalie felt invigorated...and almost worse than before she had fed at
all.  She felt out of it and out of control again, and immediately
understood how addictive killing could be.  She barely noticed as
LaCroix used a knife from a drawer to savagely slash the wounds on both
bodies with deep cuts, completely obliterating their bite marks.  She
only snapped back to the present when she heard the click of a knife
folding closed, then he pocketed it.

"The sun should be down; time to leave.  You will have to follow on your
own."

"And how exactly do I do that?" Natalie nervously asked.

"All you need do is try," and LaCroix walked by Natalie and out the way
they had entered.

Natalie hesitated, her eyes lingering on each of their--her--victims for
several seconds each.  She wasn't proud of what she had just done and
fervently hoped she wouldn't have to kill again soon.  She would if they
couldn't get to Nick and stop his flight before dawn.  Leaving the
house, she thankfully found LaCroix waiting, his back to her.

"This will be difficult on you so soon.  While flying long distances is
indeed feasible, it is extremely exhausting.  Our ability of flight is
tailored to hunting and escaping danger, not for travel.  If you feel
weak and need to feed, tell me and we will stop and do so.  Otherwise,
we continue.  Now follow as closely as you can."

Natalie watched as before her eyes LaCroix darted off toward the barely
set sun.  Remembering what he had said, she focused on trying to follow,
trying to fly after him even though she had no idea exactly how.  In a
flash, she too was flying.

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

That night Natalie struggled, but through sheer determination she
managed to keep up with LaCroix.  They hadn't, however, caught up to
Nick.  LaCroix' frustration became apparent that morning once they holed
up in an abandoned barn somewhere in Illinois or more likely Iowa for
the day.  They killed again about an hour before dawn--two homeless men
this time, just before they left Chicago.  A vampire's more normal prey.

Natalie watched LaCroix pace for nearly an hour past sunrise before he
started talking--complaining about Nick.  Apparently, flying was one
thing that Nick really had a knack for.  He was faster and had more
stamina than most vampires, including LaCroix.  As a result, the
distance between them had increased.  Between their slower speed and her
intolerance to sunlight as a new vampire, they continued to lose ground.

While not overly physically tired, Natalie knew her body needed sleep
and she managed to get some in scattered naps.  Waking near sunset, she
found LaCroix pacing again.  Since he had been doing exactly that every
time she had woken through the day, she faintly wondered if he had paced
the entire day away.

The moment they could, they left the barn and resumed the chase.  Less
than half an hour later they landed in a field and Natalie watched
LaCroix close his eyes, concentrating...then he started to pace again.
"What--"

"He is getting too far ahead!  I can no longer sense him.  We will
continue to the west."

Before Natalie could protest, LaCroix took off again.  She had to follow
immediately if she wanted to keep track of him.  Whether or not LaCroix
could sense Nick, she couldn't track LaCroix once he was out of her
sight.

Iowa passed by in what felt like a flash, and upon entering Nebraska,
they killed again in Omaha.  Another homeless man and two prostitutes.
Natalie hadn't been thrilled about killing twice--again they had both
fed from one of the prostitutes--but LaCroix had insisted.  She
understood why--they might not get another chance before dawn.  And,
reaching the western part of Nebraska soon before dawn, indeed, they
hadn't had another opportunity.  Again they took refuge in another barn,
and immediately LaCroix began to pace.

"Please stop doing that," Natalie asked as she tried to sleep on the
hard dirt.  He didn't.  "It uses up energy, doesn't it?  I mean, it's
not going to help us get to Nick any faster.  And when was the last time
you got any sleep?"

LaCroix stopped pacing, but kept facing away from Natalie.  She was
right that pacing would not help, not beyond providing a distraction.
And when had he last slept?  He thought a moment, then answered, "It's
been three days."

"Then you should really sleep.  At least a little.  Maybe it will help
you track him."

"Nicholas is too far ahead."

"Probably because he hasn't stopped for blood.  He's flown, what, over a
thousand miles in the past two days?"

"As have we."

"He won't be able to sustain that much of a lead, will he?"

"Probably not," LaCroix admitted.  "Unless he feeds."

Natalie scoffed.  "I think we both know he won't do that.  He won't kill
homeless people or--"

Now he turned to face her.  "There are other options.  In case you
haven't noticed, we have passed over plenty of...livestock.  He could
easily feed without killing them.  After sunset we will continue west."

"Where is he going?" she tried asking again, although she suspected he
had no idea.

"If we continue on this path, it will take us to San Francisco.  If he
stops."

Natalie felt helpless at that thought.  If they didn't reach Nick before
he hit the coast...  He wouldn't find shelter over the ocean, or it
would require luck--lots of luck.  "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, no there's--" LaCroix started, pausing to think.  Perhaps she could
do something.  Considering how he himself, with only an indirect bond
through his son, could almost sense her feelings, her bond with Nicholas
had to be quite strong.  And she felt more desperate, more determined to
find him than even himself, despite her calmer exterior.  Perhaps she
would be the better tracker, assuming she could learn how to lock onto
Nicholas' presence with him so far away.  They hadn't once been in the
same room since she had been brought across.

"Perhaps...and perhaps not," he finally replied.  "We will rest and
consider it this afternoon."  He walked further away from Natalie so
that they were each in rather isolated parts of the barn.  He didn't
know if he could teach her, even with time.  And time was something they
didn't have.

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

"Now feed and remember what I said."

Natalie stared hesitantly at LaCroix' wrist.  She didn't feel
comfortable drinking his blood, even though she understood his
reasoning.  She was Nick's so-called 'child', and Nick was LaCroix'.
Her innate need to find him pushed her onward, and she bit into the
offered wrist, getting a taste of his blood.  Almost immediately he tore
his hand away then turned her to face west--the direction they had been
going before he had lost the trail--and he stood behind her.  She closed
her eyes as instructed and focused.

"Can you feel the connection?"

Natalie didn't reply, too caught up sensing the strange mental hum,
faintly from behind her but stronger ahead--far ahead.

"If you cannot, there is no shame in--"

"No, I sense...something."  She opened her eyes and turned in his loose
grip.  "I can tell where you are, too, kind of...or I think I can.  It's
like a slight hum, or vibration of the air, but it's all--it's in my
head, but not.  I'm not sure how to describe it."

LaCroix grinned, more pleased than he expected.  "Then shall we leave?"

Natalie's gaze flitted toward the partly open barn doors.  The sun
wasn't quite down, but it was close enough and she nodded.

This third day they had to start by foot, but once the sun had fully
descended, they darted across the faintly barren landscape.  At first
LaCroix felt they were making no better progress with Natalie leading
instead of himself, but as it approached midnight, his excitement grew.
They were travelling faster tonight, and once again he could sense his
son himself.

His excitement faded quickly, however.  His son's thoughts felt more
panicked and scattered than before.  He had no idea if Natalie also
sensed this; maybe that was behind their frantic pace.  LaCroix could
tell they were both tiring.  Yet, his child's young fledgling pushed
herself along without complaint, despite her need to feed.  His son's
weakness was likely the primary reason they were closing in on him, and
he no longer feared his child would dart out over the ocean until the
sun finally took him.  They might even catch him before dawn, and then
the younger man would see how foolish and unnecessary his flight had
been.

As dawn arrived, however, they had not quite caught up.  LaCroix found
himself frantically trying to catch Natalie before her flits through
large swaths of sunlight took her life--and his, for that matter.  They
were in a populated area and should feed, but Natalie had ignored his
suggestion.  He couldn't discern her motivations, his connection with
her far too weak.  And however panicked and desperate his son seemed now
that less than a mile separated them by his guess, LaCroix didn't feel
it worth the hassle to catch him now as opposed to that evening.  Desert
surrounded them.  They would all be trapped there for the day,
regardless.

"Stop this!" he eventually commanded, catching hold of the trench coat
Natalie had on.  In a second she slipped out of the coat and flew across
a small but very open, sun-filled path.  LaCroix' eyes flitted to a sign
as they passed it.  Hill Air Force Base.

They were on a military base.

LaCroix hurried after her.  He had to force her to stop, or at least
stop openly showing what she was.  If they were seen, they could be
murdered--or worse.  "Natalie!" he called, but she didn't turn, her
attention far ahead of them.  "Nicholas," he whispered, catching sight
of his child for the first time on this long flight.  His son had
extensive burns and was obviously in pain, yet didn't seem to notice
himself or Natalie behind him.

Natalie had also tuned out LaCroix, her focus split between Nick and
deciding the safest and shortest path to get closer--which didn't match
up.  Nick was still a good quarter of a mile ahead, his path
erratic--erratic and dangerous, as he repeatedly flew through full sun.
She was getting tired and her skin hurt where she had been burned, and
suddenly she found hands grabbing her from behind.

"We must be more careful.  We are on an Air Force Base, a military base.
We will be seen if we--"

Natalie tore LaCroix' hands off her one at a time and ran into another
clearing after Nick, who was heading right toward the entrance of a
building.  If this was a military base, that merely gave her one more
reason to get to Nick before someone saw him.  He had to be burned as
badly as she was, and he would heal right in front of anyone who spotted
him, assuming he hadn't also changed.  If he had, they would immediately
realise he wasn't human, even before the burns would heal.  He likely
had.  Or would.

Natalie had to pause again upon reaching the last tree, the last shade
before the building.  She felt LaCroix' presence and she started across
the open grass, but she was already too late.  After only a few steps
into the light, fabric and uncompromising muscle wrapped around her and
pulled her back.  When she struggled, she was lifted so her feet no
longer touched the ground.  Nick vanished from sight into the building,
while she was pushed forcefully down to the ground, wrapped in the coat
from which she had escaped mere minutes ago.  "No, let me go, LaCroix,"
she begged, her eyes still focused on the building Nick had disappeared
into.  "Please, let go of me."

"It is too late.  We cannot--"

"Yes, we can."

"The sunlight would destroy you before you reached the shade."

"Then you--"

"It is too late, Natalie.  At sunset--"

"No!" Natalie half-screamed as she tried once again to break free.

LaCroix shoved her face-down into the damp grass, shutting his own eyes
as he felt more pain from his son--pain accompanied by muffled gunshots.
She had sensed something just when he had.  They both knew what had
probably happened.

"No," Natalie again muttered, but she didn't struggle this time.
Instead, she started to weep silently.  After all their efforts, they
were too late...just a little too far behind.

Feeling Natalie's body shaking as she wept, LaCroix loosened his grip
and pulled her to a sitting position next to him.  "Shh, Natalie."

She shook her head, trying to push his hands away at first, but she
quickly stopped fighting him and simply sat there for a moment.
Suspecting she knew the answer, she asked, "Will they discover what he
is?  Nick...  I heard gunshots, and I felt--"

"I believe he was shot."

"But why?  He must have done something to make them do that," she
thought, but deep down she suspected that even if he hadn't, if a burned
man with fangs and yellow-gold eyes walked into a public place, someone
would panic and do something.  Especially on a military base.  Nick
would have known that.  "He--" she started, but she couldn't say it
aloud.  He had done this on purpose.  With them closing in--with LaCroix
closing in--he had done the only thing he could think of to escape from
him.

LaCroix could guess where her thoughts were heading, and he muttered, "A
fate worse than death, a long-lasting punishment.  He probably even
believes he deserves it."

"What will happen if--"

"We will free him if he is taken and imprisoned."

"But what if vampires are, I don't know, revealed?"

"If Nicholas is identified as the cause, then he will likely be killed.
This assumes--"

"I don't think it's much of an assumption," Natalie whispered, her eye
on the building where several men were now outside talking.  It sounded
like after having evacuated the building, mostly through another exit,
Nick had woken, and been tasered to knock him back out.  They had called
for medical personal to sedate him.  "They know he's not...normal."

"We should leave before they see us as well," LaCroix stated, getting to
his feet and pulling Natalie up with him.

Natalie couldn't pull away due to her growing exhaustion, but before
LaCroix could pull her past the trunk of the tree they were under, she
whispered, "I want to stay here for now.  It'll give our burns time to
heal...and I want to at least stay until they...  They'll take him away
from here, I'm sure, and I don't want to leave until they do.  I don't
want to leave him, not yet."

LaCroix had stopped when Natalie started to speak and didn't guide her
along any further.

"Please," she whispered.

"We will stay," he agreed, and released his hold on her arms so she
could turn around.  He watched her carefully until she leaned against
the base of the rather large evergreen.  Its dense branches would keep
them safe for some time and hopefully unseen.

The two watched for several hours, and indeed something was up.
Officers and doctors and soldiers came and went--mostly came--and
eventually a soft-back military truck approached, backing up quite close
to the doors.  Natalie looked back to LaCroix upon seeing that, and saw
her panic mirrored in his features.

They knew.  Without a doubt, they knew about vampires.  Even before they
tried moving him, they knew Nick couldn't tolerate sunlight.  The truck
blocked any view of how they might have restrained him, then moments
later they watched the vehicle--flanked front and rear by two more
trucks--drive away.

"Come, Natalie.  We must find shelter."

"But--"

"We must take care of ourselves.  If they're transporting him under
guard, he is alive, and they likely wish to keep him that way.  We must
rest and feed, then begin our hunt anew."  LaCroix paused, but he could
see that his words did nothing to calm her.  "We will find him, Natalie.
I always find him.  This will be little different.  Now come."

Natalie remained silent while LaCroix navigated them away.  While she
had no doubt that he would find Nick--eventually--he had to know, deep
down, that this time would be different.  This time Nick hadn't left,
run off to escape him.  This time where Nick went was in no way up to
him, nor in his power.  If they couldn't find him or somehow pinpoint a
possible location that night...  Natalie didn't want to think how long
it might take to find him.  It could be months.  Or even years...



A Trial Run - (02/32)

[5 years later]

Major Samantha Carter slowed upon entering Dr. Jackson's lab.  He was
there, rubbing his temples, looking at a computer monitor.  "Should I
ask?"

Daniel turned toward the voice to find Sam nodding toward the screen.
"Only the dozenth complete lack of acknowledgement from Dr. Parker."

Sam flinched a little.  Over the last month she knew Daniel wanted to
meet Dr. Parker in person, but instead of getting a yes or no, he had
received no response whatsoever.  "Maybe he's too busy.  Or he didn't
get the e-mail."

"His last reply is several pages long," Daniel said and pulled up one of
the most recent e-mails in his inbox, then scrolled through several
screens of English, Goa'uld, and Ancient text.  "This is in reply to
something I asked less than twenty-four hours ago.  He appears to have
plenty of time, and he rarely misses even minute details."  Daniel
paused before closing the message.  "You have a point, though.  I didn't
get a reply at all when I asked in an e-mail with no other questions or
comments.  It was like he never got it."

"Maybe he didn't.  It happens, you know.  He's at Nellis, right?"

Daniel nodded.  "I'm tempted to go over there and ask in person."  He
closed out of his e-mail altogether and stood.  "First--"

"Our dinner."

Daniel froze, not sure what her comment referred to.  "Our--"

"Teal'c," Sam reminded him.  "The Thai--"

"Oh, that's right, that's tonight."  Daniel glanced at his computer
again, and seeing the date, sure enough it was.

"And Hammond left an hour ago, anyway, if that's who you were thinking
of going to."

"So tomorrow before our briefing," Daniel muttered to himself.  Maybe
when they came back he'd have some sort of answer.

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

Three days later, General Hammond sat at his desk in Stargate Command.
Two mornings ago, Dr. Jackson had come to him complaining about
communication issues with a researcher at Area 51.  He had known about
the issues for a month.  Jackson's questions were being purposefully
omitted, edited out.  To be honest, he had been surprised Jackson had
taken this long to bring it up to him.

What he had learned put a completely new and bizarre perspective on the
situation.  'Dr. Parker' was not a researcher at all, but a vampire
being detained at Nellis.  A vampire.

That had at least answered some of his own questions.  He'd always
thought that this Parker should have been assigned to an SG team years
ago, from what he knew about the man's expertise.  He had similar
linguistic skills as Dr. Jackson, as well as an extensive knowledge of
several ancient Earth cultures.  He had also managed to learn several
dialects of Goa'uld and other non-Earth languages.

Prior to Dr. Jackson's first request that they arrange to meet, he had
assumed Dr. Parker was one of the researchers who catalogued and studied
many of the artefacts found off-world.  Instead, he was confined to one
room and only had access to photographs of any artefacts.  If that.

After Daniel had come to him, hinting that if he didn't find out whether
or not either his request wasn't getting through or if Dr. Parker had
simply refused, he would make a trip out to Nellis and ask to see Dr.
Parker, Hammond had made further inquiries.  He had been instructed that
he was allowed to pass the file he'd been given on to Daniel...and then
find out whether he still wished to meet the vampire researcher.

Hammond looked up when someone knocked on his door.  Dr. Jackson, right
on time.

"General, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes.  Close the door, Dr. Jackson, and have a seat."  Hammond watched
the younger man somewhat hesitantly do as asked.  He suspected the
Daniel knew what this was about.

Once seated, he started, "Were you able to--"

"I made some inquiries," Hammond stated, deliberately cutting off the
question.  "But I cannot answer you unless I pass on some very
privileged information.  And if I do this, you may not pass it on to any
of your team."

"Privileged as in--"

"Privileged as in more secret than this facility."  He paused, then
added, "Do you believe that being able to speak or work directly with
Dr. Parker would be beneficial to the Stargate program and any
accompanying research?"

"Yes, immensely," Daniel immediately answered.  He had already stated as
much previously.  He had gone as far as suggesting that he'd be a good
addition there at the SGC.  "His--"

"And on penalty of imprisonment, do you agree not to pass on or
otherwise discuss any of this information with any individual who has
not been told what I'm about to tell you?"

Daniel hesitated at this, the consequences seeming steep, but it wasn't
as if this would be the first or last secret he'd have to keep.  "Yes."

"Now...this is going to sound a bit 'out there', even for here,
but...your 'Dr. Parker' is not a researcher at Area 51.  Or, well, he
*is*, but first and foremost he is a prisoner there, and has been for
the past five years--longer than you have been in contact with him."

"He's...a prisoner?  What did he do?  Are you saying he's a Goa'uld?
Or--"

"No, he is not a Goa'uld.  What he is, on the other hand, is just as
hard to believe.  He...is a vampire."

Daniel blinked.  It did sound a bit crazy, but at least it explained the
secrecy.  But he had also never seen anything that would make him
believe vampires were actually real.  "A vampire?"  He paused for a long
moment, then added, "Are there others like him?  Other vampires?"

"At Area 51...not at present.  On the planet there are probably
thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands of his people.  They very much
appear to be unique to Earth and indigenous to here."

Hammond paused, glanced down at the file in front of him, then turned it
around and pushed it across the desk.  "It's not much, but that has more
information on him--and what he is.  If you still believe it would be
beneficial to explore this, examine the contents of that file, and let
me know by the end of the day.  Just be aware that it may not be
feasible for you to have any real contact with him."

Taking the plain and rather thin folder, Daniel quickly flipped it open.
He had hoped to see a picture of Dr. Parker, but it was just text.  He
reluctantly stood, but didn't leave.

"And remember--"

"Don't show it to anyone.  Got it."

Hammond nodded.  "Dismissed."

Daniel left and returned to his lab, where he uncharacteristically shut
the door.  Setting the folder on an open book, he opened it and skimmed
the information.

Hammond was right that the file wasn't very informative.  The first page
gave a summary, and it was clear that real vampires weren't too
different from their mythical counterparts when it came to their
strengths and weaknesses.  The remaining sheets of paper summarised the
knowledge and skills of an otherwise unidentified individual.  There
wasn't even an identification number.  Daniel noticed more languages
listed than he knew about from talking to Dr. Parker via e-mail.  Other
than that, the only new information had to do with what Dr. Parker was.
He was at least two hundred years old and suspected to be even older,
judging from his knowledge of medieval languages.  He had medical,
military, and law enforcement experience, in addition to his obvious
knowledge of archaeology.    Finally there was the chilling statement
that the 'subject' was classified as 'extremely dangerous'...and that he
had killed four of his guards in the previous five years.

Closing the folder, Daniel went to his computer to review the
correspondence he had received.  Nothing stood out as being odd.  He had
somewhat assumed Dr. Parker was older, perhaps in his forties or
fifties, yet the file said his 'age of appearance is roughly 30 to 35'.
That the man he had been e-mailing back and forth for the past three
years was a vampire and apparently a murderer, he never would have
believed.  And he had been confined at Area 51 for even longer than
that.  It explained why he hadn't got any reply, but it made Daniel
wonder just how much of their communication had been altered.

That all their communication had been intercepted and edited--likely
both before Parker received his e-mails and before the responses were
sent back--made the generally very quick replies even more interesting.

And now he'd have to lie.  Sam, Jack, and Teal'c all knew he had gone to
General Hammond--and why.  He didn't like keeping secrets from them, but
would have to if he wanted to pursue this, which he did.  He also had
other questions, starting with how a vampire had even ended up at Area
51 in the first place.

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

Nearly two weeks passed before Daniel received any further reply
regarding being able to work more closely with Dr. Parker.  And then he
had been abruptly told to drop all plans on one of his and SG-1's
scheduled leave days.

General Hammond had personally taken both Dr. Fraiser and himself to
Nellis. He had been quickly informed it had to do with his request.  Dr.
Fraiser had so far been told nothing.

As their SUV approached the entrance to Nellis, she again asked,
"General, may I now ask what this is about?"

"I'll explain in a few minutes, Doctor.  Once we reach a secure area, I
promise you a full explanation for why I've asked you here."

Reaching the checkpoint, the three soon after got out of the vehicle and
followed an officer inside.  No one spoke while they were led through
several hallways, eventually descending down a couple of floors to a
very barren hall, where they finally stopped at a moderately-sized room.
Inside was a plain table and, on the wall, several computer or small
television monitors.

Once the door was closed, General Hammond focused his gaze solely on Dr.
Fraiser.  "Before I say why you are here, Doctor, you need to know that
what I'm about to say is even more secret than the Stargate program, and
for the time being, you may not discuss this information with anyone at
the SGC other than Dr. Jackson and myself."

Hammond paused and nodded to the officer who had shown them into the
room.  "We are here to determine whether it is safe for either Dr.
Jackson to come here periodically to speak and/or work in person with a
prisoner-slash-researcher, or if it would be possible to bring that
individual to the SGC."

Fraiser frowned.  "What do you mean?  I know Daniel's been in contact
with someone from Nellis for some time, but are you saying he's not
really a researcher but he's actually some sort of...prisoner?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Doctor.  And he's not only a prisoner
here, but he's a very...special...kind of prisoner."

"What kind of prisoner?" Fraiser asked, even more wary now.

Hammond nodded again to the officer who let them in, and the man
answered, "He is not quite human.  More specifically, he is a vampire."

Dr. Fraiser was far more sceptical than Daniel, and repeated, "A
vampire?  That's rather hard to believe, General."

"A vampire," the man confirmed.  "And he is about to be sedated and
moved.  We may all get a glimpse of what he is at that time."  He turned
the LCD monitors--all four of them--on, and the screens all showed the
same relatively small room from different angles.  A camera sat in each
of the upper corners of the room, which was sparse.

Both Daniel's and Fraiser's eyes locked on the sole occupant, a man
dressed in what appeared to be standard Air Force issue black t-shirt
and green fatigue bottoms, sleeping on a mattress along one wall.  A
book lay under his folded hands, as if he had fallen asleep while
reading it.  Daniel then noticed other books and papers in the room,
along with a laptop computer on a desk, although it was closed and
didn't have a cord, so that was only a guess.  One wall had a white
board, which was currently empty, and the opposite wall had a built-in
shelf of some type, along with the door.

"We observe him by video to reduce our presence and any distractions,"
their guide explained with a nod to the monitors.

"Why not use one-way glass?" Fraiser asked, curious.

"We had in the past with another vampire we had custody of over a decade
ago.  The glass is breakable, and his kind can both see and hear any
observers.  Cameras and solid walls are far more secure."

"So he doesn't know any of us are here, watching him?" Daniel asked.

"No.  He is completely unaware of today being any different than
yesterday.  But when he receives his morning injection, he will know
something is up."

"Morning injection?" Dr. Fraiser asked.

The man pulled folders from under his arm and pulled off the top file.
"These are his medical records.  He presently receives two injections of
blood and a small amount of sedative each day."  He handed the folder to
Dr. Fraiser.  "That should answer any questions about his physiology, or
at least what we have been able to discover.  And, Dr. Jackson, this..."
He had been about to pass the second folder to Daniel when they all
noticed movement on the monitors.  The prisoner had woken and calmly
gone to the indentation in the wall next to the door, which Dr. Fraiser
and the others could now see was about waist height.  It wasn't a shelf
at all, but a small door of some sort.

Moments later, Dr. Fraiser stepped slightly closer when the man on the
screen jerked his arm back, only to lose his balance...and sink rather
abruptly to the floor, unconscious.  "Is he..."

"He is fine, Dr. Fraiser.  We do this roughly once a month, primarily in
order to examine him to ensure he remains in good health."  Now he held
out the second file to Daniel, who wasn't paying much attention, but
took the folder.  A mixed group of security and medical personnel had
entered the room and were hooking the man up to an IV, then they moved
him into a wheelchair and took him from the cell.  "This contains what
we've been able to confirm about his past, along with some possible
assumptions."  He passed the last file to General Hammond.  "And that
contains details of a few lapses in security we've had, and an overview
of the methods we use to control him.  He has had no in-person,
face-to-face contact with anyone for more than a year, so I'm sure what
you would all most like is to see how he reacts to this visit.  Now, if
you will excuse me, I will return in a couple of minutes."

Dr. Fraiser's gaze followed the man until he left the room, shutting the
door behind him.  "Did either of you catch his name?"

"Major Newell," Hammond supplied.  "I met him last week.  He is the
primary individual in charge of the prisoner's custody."

"And what exactly is this about?"

Hammond exhaled, explaining, "As you are aware, Dr. Jackson has been
working with this researcher, Dr. Nicholas Parker, by e-mail, for nearly
three years.  He's proved to be a valuable resource, and he actually has
a more extensive knowledge of ancient Earth languages and cultures than
many of the researchers associated with the Stargate program.  In that
time, he has also learned multiple non-Earth languages, at least in
written form.  If Parker was human...frankly, we wouldn't be here and
he'd have been offered a position at the SGC some time ago."

"So the goal is--"

"To decide if it would be safe--or too dangerous--to have him work with
any of the actual researchers, either here or at the SGC itself."

"And if it's too dangerous?"

"He will remain here, and have no further contact with Dr. Jackson."

"He'll be cut off from--"  The more Dr. Fraiser discovered about this
situation, the less she liked it.  "How long has he been here?"

"Since May of '96," Hammond answered.  "I'm sure you two would both like
to review those files.  I know I would.  From what I was told, it will
take about an hour until they finish their tests and he regains
consciousness."

Daniel was the first to sit down and start looking through his file,
which turned out to actually be interesting, certainly when compared to
the sparse file he had seen before.  It included many different names
Dr. Parker had used in the past.  He had been an Army Lieutenant with
the Red Cross in Vietnam.  Parker--or at that time he had been Nicholas
Girard--had also been a night curator and professor at the University of
Chicago, of all places, in the 1950's.  His most recent name had been
Knight--as a homicide detective, no less--in Toronto.  Daniel found the
information more illuminating when written out like this.  It offered a
different impression, and in fact made more sense than the shortened
version.  It somehow fit better with what he had imagined of his life
from the other man's e-mails.

"General, this is amazing," Dr. Fraiser eventually said.  "He apparently
has abilities that science cannot explain.  He can heal from almost any
wounds, even fatal ones.  They once removed a bullet--actually,
two--from his temporal lobe, which would certainly have killed any of
us, but for him...it was nothing.  Not even any noticeable, long-term,
side effects.  Super-speed, super-strength...  It even seems that quite
a bit of the mythological information is true as well.  Those like him
can't turn into mist or bats or anything like that, but according to
this, they can fly, and they can make very powerful hypnotic
suggestions, to the point that they can practically control humans'
thoughts and actions."  She paused, scanning the page again.  "More
interestingly, a Zat doesn't seem capable of killing him.  It takes four
to six shots just to cause loss of consciousness.  How that is
possible--"

"Three of the four guards he killed were with a Zat," Hammond added.
"Not what I expected when I learned he'd killed while imprisoned here."

"And the fourth?" Daniel asked, knowing there was a fourth.

"Brute force, although if not for a recent--and unreported--injury, that
man would recovered."

"If he doesn't know a Zat kills with two shots--or normally, anyway--"

"They believe he is unaware that he has killed anyone.  All of the
deaths occurred while they were sedating him, and all were ruled
accidental."

Daniel had continued to scan his files.  "It says here that they're only
somewhat certain about the last two hundred years of his life, and that
due to his results on the language tests and his habit of using the
surname 'Knight', especially recently, they suspect he might be more
like six hundred years old.  He could be even older."

"My impression is that a vampire could literally live for thousands of
years without their body deteriorating in the slightest.  They are
immortal, or as close to truly immortal as I have seen.  I'd still like
to know how he managed to end up here, though," Dr. Fraiser said,
pausing.  "Either of you have anything on that?

"Nope," Daniel replied.  He wanted to know that, too--and when Major
Newell would return.  It had been far more than a couple of minutes.  In
fact, by his watch, forty minutes had passed.

Almost as if planned, Major Newell re-entered the room.  "If you have no
pressing questions--"

"Actually," interrupted Daniel, "I would like to know how he wound up
here."

"I would also like to know that," Dr. Fraiser agreed.

Major Newell shut the door, pausing before stating, "Very well."  He
coughed slightly to clear his throat, then explained, "One day in late
May of '96, he simply walked into Hill Air Force Base about an hour
after sunrise.  He had severe burns and was in a changed state--"

"Changed state?" Daniel asked.

"A vampire's non-human state, I suppose you could call it.  His eyes
were a light yellow-gold, and he made no attempt to hide his fangs.  He
was shot before he said or did anything.  All those who saw him were
sworn to secrecy; many were transferred here to Nellis."

"He walked in and--what?  Why?" Fraiser asked.

"While we have not been able to get an explanation, we believe he walked
into Hill Air Force Base knowing he would either be killed or
imprisoned."

"Why would he do that?" Hammond asked, frowning as he closed his file.

"Once we tied him to his most recent life as a homicide detective in
Toronto, that became fairly obvious.  We learned that less than a year
previously, he had lost one of his co-workers, his partner, in a plane
bombing.  His superior at the time was also killed in that crash.  Three
months later, he himself was shot in the head and appeared to have
suffered from at least temporary amnesia, and then about four, five
months after that, he lost another partner."

Daniel prodded, "By lost--"

"Killed--shot in his presence.  And finally the medical examiner went
missing from Toronto at the same time he did."

"The medical examiner--"

"No one ever discovered what happened to her," Major Newell quickly
stated, cutting Daniel off.  "According to their superiors, she and
Knight were close friends.  We believe she is either dead, or possibly
trying to learn what happened to him."

"Is she...like him?" Hammond asked.

"That is also unknown, but prior to her disappearance, we believe she
was human.  Now, if you have no further questions, please follow me."
Newell pulled the door back open and waited there until the three stood
to follow.  They exited and then walked further down the main hall,
where they stopped one door short of a guarded door.

Daniel hesitated before following Hammond and Fraiser inside.  When he
did, his eyes locked on the two monitors.  The sole piece of furniture
was a steel chair that had been welded or bolted to the floor in some
way.  In it sat the prisoner, still unconscious.

"He should wake in a few minutes.  Only two of you will be allowed in to
speak with him--"

"Dr. Jackson and myself," Hammond quickly answered, and received a nod.

"A few guidelines for speaking to him: If you refer to him by name, use
'Nicholas'.  And since he is unrestrained, do not allow him to walk
behind you under any circumstances.  You should face him at all times."

"Should he be restrained?" Hammond asked.

"Neither of you should be in any danger as long as you don't provoke him
and follow my instructions," Newell assured.  "Do not ask any questions
regarding what he is or his past, particularly anything I mentioned
about his most recent life in Toronto.  You will both be given a Zat in
case he attempts to harm you.  All you need do is remember one shot will
do nothing but momentarily stun him.  While it takes several shots to
actually cause loss of consciousness, each shot is quite painful.  So if
he is in no apparent danger, one shot should be enough to get him to
back off, but multiple shots will not kill him."

"We aren't here to threaten him," Daniel pointed out.

"I understand, but as I said before, it has been over a year since
anyone has spoken to him face-to-face.  We honestly cannot say how he
will react to visitors.  He may also not be receptive to your offer or
even your presence."

"Ah, Major?" Dr. Fraiser interrupted, her eyes locked on one of the
monitors.  The man in the chair was waking.  Almost immediately someone
knocked on the door.

Major Newell glanced at the monitor behind him.  "Please come with me,
General, Dr. Jackson."

They did so and walked about five metres down the hall to the guarded
door.  Newell rather quickly took two Zats from one of the guards,
passing them to Daniel and Hammond.  Daniel activated it on reflex to
ensure it wasn't a decoy, then let it close.  Hammond, however, passed
his back.

"General, it really is advisable--"

"As Dr. Jackson stated, we are not here to threaten him.  By your own
admission, that is something to avoid."

Major Newell hesitated, but took the weapon back.  "As you wish."  He
kept hold of it and looked up at another monitor outside the door.
"Wait here until I tell him he has visitors, and do not speak until I
have introduced you," he said, pointing to an area next to the door that
would be out of sight of the occupant.

Hammond tensed a little after they had moved and Newell opened the door
to the room, only closing it partway so that they could still hear
everything said.

Newell stepped into the room, keeping his eyes trained on the still
drowsy prisoner.  He stopped a good ten feet from the chair and its
occupant, but didn't show even a hint of unease.

"I will tell you *nothing*.  Haven't you learned that by now?" Nick
asked, unsteadily but confidently standing.

"I'm not here to interrogate you."

"Then why was I brought to this room?"

"You have visitors."

"Some scientist who wants to ogle your caged creature, see a myth in the
flesh?  A physician?  Psychiatrist?  Or some privileged military
commander?" Nick accused, his eyes narrowed at Major Newell.

"This has nothing to do with what you are, Nicholas."  Newell paused,
and then without looking behind him, he said, "Come in, gentlemen."

Nick's attention shifted toward the door, and he watched a civilian man
with glasses enter.  In his hand, he had one of the alien weapons
Newell's people had used on him in the past.  The second man wore the
insignia of a two-star general; he did not have any weapons.  "A
scientist *and* a general.  Even worse," he scoffed in disgust.

"This is Major General George Hammond and Dr. Daniel Jackson."

Nick's eyes settled solely on the civilian.  "So your curiosity won out.
You wanted to see the creature you've been conversing with these past
few years."

Daniel could hear the hostility in the vampire's voice, a feral
undertone that matched his stance.  He clearly believed his visitor had
known where and *what* his contact was.  "But I--"

"As I said, Dr. Jackson is not here because of what you are.  He had no
knowledge of that, and was only informed two weeks ago.  Until then, all
he knew was that you were a researcher here at Nellis," Major Newell
stated.  "General Hammond has known a few weeks longer; he was only
informed after Dr. Jackson began asking if you and he could meet.  Now,
I will leave to allow them to speak with you."  He backed away from
Nick, only glancing to Hammond for a moment to tell him, "When you're
ready to leave, simply say so and the guard will open the door," and
then he slipped out.

Nick continued to stare at Dr. Jackson for several seconds before
switching his attention to General Hammond.  "You're here to speak with
me, so speak.  Why are you here?"

"To see if you would be interested in something, a proposal," Hammond
stated.

"Interested in what, exactly?"

"Working more fully with other researchers such as--"

"As a lab rat for some medical experiment?"

"I assure that this has nothing to do with what you are.  We want you
strictly for your expertise--expertise that you have already been
providing.  We're hoping you'll be willing to working with Dr. Jackson
and his colleagues, either here at Area 51 or at Stargate Command.
While I am aware you haven't been officially read-in, I am aware you
have been--"

"Fed bits and pieces," Nick interrupted sarcastically.  "They'll never
agree to it."

"But if they did, would you be interested?" Hammond asked, ignoring the
statement.

"You heard me.  They would never allow it, and we both--"

"We are here, Son," Hammond interrupted.  "It's already on the table as
a real possibility.  But if you're not interested or not willing to at
least consider working more collaboratively with others, just tell us
now and we'll leave.  Simple as that."

Nick's eyes shifted to the door, then the wall as he turned and walked
toward the back of the room.  "They'll never allow it," he repeated in a
whisper.

"But assuming they would..." Daniel suggested, but it still didn't
elicit a reply.  "I can tell from our conversations that, frankly, you
*would* be interested."

"So...would you be willing?" Hammond again asked.  "And if you were
allowed to work directly with other researchers, in-person, would you
object to that?  If you agree to try this, you should know that you
would likely be given sedatives more often, and you won't be allowed
free rein."

"It would--" Nick started again, turning.  "Yes, it interests me.  I
would be willing and would not object."  He walked back toward the two
men, this time approaching closer than he had initially.  "But I will
not allow you to use me for experiments, nor will I be subjected to
interrogations regarding who or what I am."

"There would be no expectation of additional cooperation, beyond your
continued assistance with research, in exchange for less isolation,"
Hammond stated, and then asked curiously, "Has anyone ever offered you
anything like this in the past?"

"I have received nothing, beyond e-mails from him," Nick nodded sharply
toward Dr. Jackson, "and repeated attempts to interrogate me.  And since
I have never given them any answers...even that eventually stopped.
It's been thirteen, fourteen months now since they questioned me."

"We aren't trying to trick you," Hammond stated.  "And this is in no way
contingent upon any favours or actions you must take first."

"And how do I know I haven't already been tricked?" Nick asked, his
glare sliding to Dr. Jackson.  "Who knows whether the translations that
I have been helping with are even real?  The closest to any artefact I
have seen are scans, and they could have been altered or even made up."

"Ah, well, I suppose short of showing you the original text, you can't
know, but as far as I'm aware, that part of our communication was never
altered."  Daniel paused, then added, "And to be honest, you've probably
learned as much, if not more, than I have.  You haven't been tricked
into doing my work or anything, if that's what you think."

"What am I supposed to think?"

"Probably about what you are thinking," Daniel said.  "In your position,
I would doubt anything said to me, too."

Nick moved closer, eyes darting for a moment to the weapon held loosely
in Dr. Jackson's hand.  "You should not be so complacent...so trusting,"
he said, continuing nearer.

Daniel forced himself not to raise the Zat, not yet.  The other man
stopped well out of reach, glaring at him.  Up close, he could see that
the feral-ness extended beyond his stance and rough tone.  Gold-ish eyes
stared into his, and he caught a glint of what had to be fangs.  Either
the vampire was not in control, or he was trying to scare them.  Daniel
suspected the latter.

Taking a large step closer, bringing himself just beyond arms' reach of
Dr. Jackson, Nick found the weapon raised and aimed at his chest and
activated--but not fired.  "Why not shoot, Dr. Jackson?  They would
have."

"We are not affiliated with Major--"

"Major Newell is US Air Force," Nick interrupted, turning his attention
to General Hammond.  "This facility is Air Force.  You are Air Force,
General, and I would guess Dr. Jackson is also on your payroll...and has
had some form of military training."

Nick's gaze shifted to the door, where he could hear movement, a hand on
the doorknob.  "I believe our conversation is over," he stated when the
door opened, admitting Major Newell and two guards.  Two more guards and
a doctor waited in the hall.  "I won't see either of you again, will I?"

"That has not been decided yet, Nicholas," Newell said, pointing his own
activated Zat at the vampire.  "Back away from Dr. Jackson."  When the
vampire didn't immediately obey, he repeated, "Back away now and face
the far wall."

Daniel lowered his Zat once others entered and Nick Parker--or the
vampire he had known as Nick Parker--turned and faced the wall as
ordered.

"General, Doctor, please leave."

Hammond shook his head slightly; Major Newell apparently did not want
them to see how the prisoner was taken out, but this was very much
something he wanted to see in person.  "We will stay."

Major Newell exhaled, again ordering, "Hands up on the wall."

Once Nick had complied and after a nod from Newell, the other guards
rapidly Zatted Nick twice.  Two soldiers and a nurse rushed forward and
held him while injecting something into his neck.  The vampire didn't
drop right away.  He somehow managed to turn around so that he leaned
against the wall before the sedative caused him to slowly sink to the
floor and black out.

"Return him to his room before the sedative wears off," Newell ordered,
then he finally turned away from Nick and gestured toward the door.

"We weren't done speaking to him," Hammond stated.

"You have seen his current behaviour and received an answer to your
proposal.  I'm sorry, but his kind gain strength rapidly when not
sedated, and however tame he appears, his kind's instinct is to kill.
We have archived footage of other meetings that would be more helpful to
you, if you wish to review it.  Please go back to the hall before we
have to sedate him again to ensure he remains unconscious."

Somewhat reluctantly, Hammond turned and left the room, Daniel following
close behind.  Fraiser had just entered the hall.

"Was that absolutely necessary?" she asked, dismayed by their tactics.
"He was complying with--"

"Yes, it was necessary," Newell replied, cutting her off.  "You'll all
see why in a moment."

"I hope so, Major," Hammond stated before he was again directed down the
hall back to the room they had first been taken to.

Over the next nearly two hours, Hammond, Fraiser and Daniel were shown
several recordings, including where the four guards had died.  As the
files mentioned, the deaths had all occurred when sedating him to move
or otherwise relocate him.  He had been immediately disabled after,
either from Security completing the task of sedating him...or Zatting
him until he eventually fell unconscious.  All of the deaths had also
occurred soon after the Zats had been put into use at the facility.

And, compared to past meetings, 'tame' did seem rather appropriate in
relation to their conversation.  In the past, it appeared Nick usually
shut down completely when prodded for information, so most of the more
recent recordings were simply him sitting, staring at nothing.  It also
quickly became apparent that he only became violent when physically
forced to do something--whether that be forced to stand, sit, or held to
sedate him.  Like when he had been sedated in front of them, recent
recordings showed him compliant to being shot and drugged.

They had then been shooed away with Hammond being told when to offer his
recommendation.  Both Daniel and Fraiser had their attempts to discuss
what they had seen and read shot down, so on the trip back, they simply
continued to peruse the files they had been given.  The files were to be
returned along with Hammond's documented recommendation.



A Trial Run - (03/32)

"Dr. Fraiser?"

Janet Fraiser glanced down at the file in front of where she sat in the
briefing room at the SGC, then replied, "I'm not a psychologist, but I
think a lot of his behaviour was a result of fear and distrust.  And he
deliberately tested Daniel to see if he'd Zat him."

"To see what we thought of him," Daniel replied.  "And what he is."

"Precisely," Fraiser confirmed.  "And those men he killed--it was quite
clear from the videos that he was only trying to protect himself.  While
his body does appear to be capable of tolerating multiple shots from a
Zat, he appears to experience the same amount of pain we do with each of
those shots.  Being hit with a single blast is bad enough, even when the
bulk of the resulting pain passes while the victim is unconscious.  Two,
three, four while conscious?  I might do exactly what he did--take the
weapon and use it to defend myself--regardless of the consequences,
which in his case has been however many shots it takes before he finally
either blacks out or is temporarily killed."  She paused, then
suggested, "And if he is ever allowed to work with others, especially
here, he needs to know that more than one shot with a Zat is nearly
always lethal...despite that by my guess he pretty regularly gets shot
two or more times in a row...and rarely just once."

"Agreed," said Hammond.  "But do you think it would be safe to allow him
to work here?"

"I'd say yes, with appropriate precautions, of course.  But it is
difficult to know what to expect going off his usual behaviour.  He is
bound to act differently here than in his present environment."

"I have an idea on that," Hammond said, focused on the file in front of
him--it was a copy of what Dr. Jackson had been given on Dr. Parker's
past.  "I made a few calls.  His superior from his most recent employer
could be used as a reference.  He's still in Toronto, and still with
their police department.  If that pans out, I'll recommend we at least
give him a shot at this."

"And Jack, Sam, and Teal'c..."

"Will be briefed on who and what Dr. Parker is, Dr. Jackson.  You will
no longer have to keep this secret from your team."

But Daniel remembered the catch.  "But only if his previous employer had
a good impression of him and he gets to come here."

"Exactly."  Hammond pushed back in his chair.  "Dr. Fraiser, you are
dismissed."  He turned his attention to Daniel once they were alone.
"Dr. Jackson...it may be less threatening if you make the call to his
previous employer.  There was a lot of press at the time relating to the
disappearances of Parker--Knight--and his friend, and according to his
records, he had transferred there from Chicago.  A 'concerned old
friend' might get more answers than a foreign general."

Daniel nodded, gathered up the files on the table, and followed Hammond
into his office.  "Who are we calling, exactly?"

"Captain Joe Reese.  Parker--he knew him as Knight then--worked under
him for a little less than a year, right up to when he disappeared."

"And if he asks how we met--"

"Make up some shared hobby or something," Hammond suggested.

Daniel hesitated.  Make up something?  Then he saw the other man start
to dial.  "We're calling now?"

"It's now, or we wait another two days.  This should be a direct
number," he said, finishing dialling and putting it immediately on
speaker.

"Reese," came a deep voice on the speaker.

"Ah, Captain Joe Reese?" Daniel asked.

"Yes.  And--"

"Uh, hi.  Uh, my name is Dr. Daniel Jackson," Daniel paused, then
pressed his thoughts for something to say.  "I was told that you might
be able to help me.  You see, I've been trying to find out what happened
to an old friend of mine, Nicholas Knight."

"If you're some psychologist--"

"Oh, no, I'm an archaeologist, actually.  I knew him back when we both
lived in Chicago.  He had an interest in...history and Latin," Daniel
fumbled.

"Latin," Reese repeated back.  "Figures.  I always had the impression he
was a bit bookish."

"Yes, well--"

"You're a bit late, Dr. Jackson.  Knight vanished, oh, about five years
ago.  Didn't even resign, just didn't show up to work one night."

"I'm aware of that, so I've been trying to get in touch with those who
knew him in Toronto, but I've not had much luck."

"If you know he vanished...or left..."

"The only friend of his I knew about is also missing, and I hadn't heard
from him since early '95," Daniel said, remembering the file.  "For now,
I'm kind of wondering if you could tell me anything about him that
seemed off from normal, or..."

"I only worked with him about eight, nine months.  If you knew him from
Chicago, you probably know more about him than I do."

"Possibly, but I hadn't seen him in person since before he moved to
Toronto."

"Well, if you hadn't been in contact with him since early '95, you
probably don't know that that last year was--  He lost two partners,
nearly blew himself up saving my life, and got shot saving his partner's
life--actually mispronounced him dead, but woke up with little more than
a scratch and amnesia.  Couldn't even remember his own name there for a
couple of days."

"Amnesia?" Daniel prodded, wanting to know more about this.  "Did he--"

"Yeah, he got his memories back.  Barely fazed him, but made his year
that much worse, I'm sure.  My superiors suspect he had some sort of
mental breakdown, but I don't believe it.  I kinda assumed he and
Lambert simply decided they had lost too many friends and decided to
leave, although why they didn't resign--"

"What do you mean, they?"

"Lambert's brother was killed in, oh, late '92, maybe?  It was at the
precinct Knight worked in at the time.  They were both right there--not
the moment it happened, but nearby.  And they saw the aftermath.  Then
one of her last cases before they vanished was a suicide--an old friend
and colleague of hers, and another old friend or acquaintance had died
in relation to another case a couple, few months before that.  She'd
also nearly been killed several times in the past few years--nothing to
do with Knight, beyond that without him she'd be dead.  And that barely
scratches the surface."

Reese's voice paused, sighing.  "Two of the nicest, most respectable
people I know, but the universe seemed to have singled them out to put
them both through sheer hell that year.  Both of their apartments were
mysteriously cleared out sometime between one and two weeks after they
vanished.  Before that, they were believed to have been kidnapped, then
missing, and finally...well, other cases took priority.  Neither of them
had much of anyone left to miss them...or contact."

Daniel tried to file that information away and again asked, "Before they
went missing...did Nick seem...normal, I guess?"

"That's hard to say.  He was always a bit different than the other
detectives, sometimes had plans of his own on how to do things, but good
instincts.  I'll admit that he wasn't quite what I expected.  When I
heard he could be a bit of a rule-breaker and hotshot, I
envisioned...well, a borderline bad cop, not...  Well, what I got was a
stubborn detective that wouldn't leave any stone unturned--made him hard
to find at times, sure, but usually if I didn't know where he was,
either his partner or Lambert did.  He nearly quit after what happened
with his previous partner--probably would have if his resignation hadn't
been blown up."

"Blown--"

"Bomber.  A lot of cops lost their lives that day, not just his partner
and captain.  I'd've been among them, if not for him.  I pretty much had
my hand on the trigger--and he switched places with me.  No clue how he
got out, but he did.  He always seemed to.  He got the hotshot label
more for his disregard for his own life than anything else, I think.
That, and he wasn't a sharer, which made him seem a bit...  Lambert was
about the only one who really got past those walls of his.  He didn't
let people in, although he was starting to before everything went to
hell."

Reese paused, then continued, "You know, I bet the guy would probably
have his own command by now if he hadn't gone missing.  And the only
thing I really noticed before he vanished was a bit of boredom settling
in, but when I brought it up, he took care of it, even if he was a bit
hesitant to admit he had a problem.  That was a couple months before
everything hit, though.  And he always was a bit of a loner, but if you
knew him, you'd know why.  Until that last night, he seemed--I'd say he
was handling everything pretty good, considering.  It was just one too
many things too close together, I think."

"So I take it you haven't heard anything from him in all that time?"

"Nothing."

"What about, uh, Dr. Lambert?"

"Nothing from her, either.  Knight had no family, and Lambert's only
immediate, living family was a sister-in-law and niece.  They didn't
have much contact after her brother died, apparently.  Listen, however
much I'd like to know what happened to them, I really hope you aren't
spending too much time on this.  After five years, we're not likely to
uncover anything new, and if we do, it probably won't be good."

"Oh, no, I just thought I'd try contacting you again.  I, ah, tried
after he vanished, but kept getting turned away," Daniel fumbled again,
hoping it would make sense.

"Well, maybe don't introduce yourself as a doctor when you might be
mistaken for someone trying to write a book or some twisted news
article.  If you do find something on where either of them are, it'd be
good to settle matters a bit."

"Yeah, sure," Daniel said, although already it was a lie.  He at least
knew exactly where Nick Knight was, after all.  "Thanks for talking to
me."

"No problem, and I hope you have better luck than I did."

They then heard a dial tone and Hammond hung up.  "I suppose that's the
equivalent of a glowing recommendation."

Daniel agreed, but had started flipping through the medical file until
he found what he was looking for.  "I wonder if that's when he got the
other bullet--when he had the amnesia," he muttered.  "You'd think
that'd be in here, too."  He closed the folder again.  "And strange
there's nothing in here on his friend, Dr. Lambert."

"She seems to have completely vanished, possibly using a fake identity,"
Hammond said.  Then he said what they'd surely been wondering and seemed
highly probable, "Or else she's dead."

Daniel thought a bit.  If she was dead, then who cleared out their
apartments?  He supposed that meant she still lived--or someone else was
involved or close to both of them.  If she had survived, though,
wouldn't she have done something to set things straight about their
disappearance?

"I guess this means that I'll put in my recommendation, but you should
know that there are no guarantees.  And if he is allowed to come here,
he'd better settle in quickly.  If he becomes a danger--"

"He'll go back, I know.  But I don't think he'll do anything to warrant
that, not intentionally, anyway.  Anything else?"

"No."  Hammond nodded toward the folders.  "Leave those here, and then
you're dismissed.  I'll notify you once I get a response.  How long that
will take--"

"Is anyone's guess," Daniel interrupted, nodding.

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

It took a week and a half for Hammond to receive a reply, but when he
did, his request had been approved.  There were, however, quite a few
conditions.

One of these was that security personnel would be the same individuals
that handled the prisoner at Area 51.  Hammond understood why.  It was
to keep knowledge of the existence of vampires to as few people as
possible.  In fact, the only additional individuals who would be told
were the remaining members of SG-1.  Security personnel and a nurse
would be transferred, and they would all be residing there at the SGC.
Dr. Jackson had wanted to tell his team right away, but that was another
condition.  They were not to be informed until their guest had actually
been transferred to the base.

Hammond disliked the conditions.  He hadn't been able to tell if any of
the incidents at Nellis had somehow been provoked.  The videos they had
seen were only short clips of specific incidents.  None of the context
leading up to those particular incidents was included.  He also would
have preferred that the other members of SG-1 be informed ahead of time.
He could see Colonel O'Neill and their guest clashing to the point of
causing another incident.  Not only did O'Neill speak his mind a bit too
accurately, but Reese's description of his missing detective wasn't that
far from how he would describe Colonel O'Neill.  The two's personalities
could very well be too similar for them to get along.  Then it was also
difficult to guess their reaction to the existence of vampires, beyond
that it would be indifference at best and hatred at worst.  If he
learned nothing else from their meeting, it was that he didn't think
Nicholas Parker would be easily baited.  Parker seemed far better at
doing the baiting.

That was another issue--what to call him.  Hammond had decided to modify
things a bit.  As when he and Dr. Jackson had met him, the instructions
were to use 'Nicholas'.  It was both too formal and too informal.  He
planned to continue with 'Dr. Nicholas Parker' or simply 'Dr. Parker',
if their guest didn't object.  Did he even know what name Dr. Jackson
had been given?  None of them knew, and the issue needed to be settled
ASAP.

Which meant today.

It had taken nearly a week after receiving approval before rooms were
finally set up for those from Nellis, including Nicholas Parker.  As an
extra precaution, additional cameras had been installed in several parts
of the base.  Before bringing their guest there, Fraiser also had to
wait for a supply of the sedatives for his injections and adequate blood
to go with it.  That had arrived in two shipments, the second of which
had arrived the day before, then overnight Parker had been fully sedated
and transferred to the SGC.  At present, Fraiser was adjusting his IV to
ensure he remained fully unconscious until she could return.

As a knock came at his office door, Hammond said, "Come in," on reflex.
It was Fraiser.  "Is everything all set?"

She shut the door before answering, "For now, Sir.  I had to increase
the dosage.  His body is becoming accustomed to that particular drug, as
Major Newell had indicated might happen.  I can't say for sure how much
longer he'll remain unconscious."

Hammond nodded.  "Wait with SG-1.  I'll be there in a minute."

"Yes, sir," Fraiser replied and left the office through the other door,
directly into the briefing room.  She walked by where Daniel and Teal'c
sat at the table and took the adjacent open spot next to the latter.

They all sat silently, except for a pen tapping the table, for a couple
of minutes.  Jack O'Neill then dropped the pen, his gaze settling on
Fraiser, who rarely joined them.  "I'm guessing that you know what this
is about?"

"Ah..." Fraiser relaxed, exhaling as General Hammond entered, saving her
from having to answer.

"General, has our mission to--"

"This meeting is in regards to Dr. Jackson's research correspondent from
Nellis.  He will be joining us here at the SGC."

"We get new researchers, new SG members all the time," Jack stated.
"What's another nerd, Sir?"

"Because he's not your typical researcher, Colonel.  He's been a
prisoner there for the--"

"One of the rogue NID--"

"No," Hammond firmly cut the other man off.  "Dr. Parker has been there
since before your team was formed in its present state.  He has never
seen--let alone been through--a stargate.  He has been held for other
reasons."

"For *what* other reasons?" Major Carter asked.

Hammond sat and handed folders out.  Inside was a short overview of what
Parker was.  "It'll sound a bit--"

"A vampire?" Jack said, having already opened the file and started
reading.  "Really, Sir?  Like...Dracula?  This is some sort of joke,
isn't it?  Some test--"

Hammond shook his head.  "It's no joke, Colonel.  Nor is it a fabricated
situation.  He is, indeed, a vampire.  Dracula...no."

"But vampire as in blood-sucking--whatever?  Seriously?" O'Neill
continued.

"Vampire as in immortal, super strong, super fast--essentially an
enhanced human," Fraiser explained.  "And yes, Colonel, blood is what
his kind get their nourishment from."

"He's...immortal?" Carter asked.  "How old is he?"

"His age is unknown," Hammond said.  "As it states in those files, he's
at least two hundred years old for certain, and very possibly as much as
six hundred...or more."

"He seems particularly familiar with medieval languages, far more than
myself," Daniel explained.  "But he is also very familiar with Ancient
Egyptian and Classical Latin, even Mayan, which he almost certainly had
to learn more recently.  It's hard to tell what his original language
might be, what he learned because he chose to, or--"

"What he learned because it was the dominant language of the time and
place," Carter guessed.

"He's five-eleven and has blond hair, which does allow us to make some
guesses as to where he's from," Fraiser said.  "He's probably originally
from Europe, so anywhere from Russia to Iceland down into Spain or
Austria.  It's a very wide range.  And if he's, say, six hundred,
considering his height, he must have received good nutrition while a
child and teen.  Either he grew up in a time with plentiful food, or his
family was at least moderately wealthy.  Anything beyond that is
probably a guess."

"But...why?" Jack asked, glancing between the file and Hammond.  "Why
bring a vampire here?"

"He's managed to learn several dialects of Goa'uld, and--"

"But why...*here*?" O'Neill asked again.

"Because Dr. Jackson wants him here to help out with his--and
other's--research.  Also, the only person he's had any real
conversations with during the five years he's been at Area 51 is Dr.
Jackson.  The SGC is also more secure than the research area of Area 51.
We are completely underground, which makes any escape attempt far less
likely."

"And you're telling us now because...?" Jack continued.

"Because all of you have regular contact with Dr. Jackson, and it sounds
like the two of them may be spending a lot of time together, so you'll
need to know why he has certain...restrictions.  I'd also like to ask if
Teal'c would be willing to help keep an eye on him while he is here."

Attention went to Teal'c, who had been very quiet.

"So, Teal'c," Jack started, pausing until the Jaffa lowered the file.
"I think this is nuts, Carter thinks it's interesting, and Jackson
already knew.  No comment?"

"It is...fascinating," Teal'c answered.

"Fascinating?  That's it?  Isn't it a bit--"

"It is surprising any of his kind survived.  I had believed your
culture's preoccupation with the Nosferatu myth--"

"Wait--you knew vampires were real?"

"I had only heard tales of such humans taken from Earth long ago by Ra.
They were exterminated when it was discovered that these powerful humans
could not become hosts.  I had assumed they were also destroyed here.
Apparently that was not the case."

"Apparently not," Jack said, a bit incredulous.  "So...are there more of
them, or is this guy a fluke?"

Hammond glanced at the file in front of him and answered, "He is the
third of his kind to be held at Area 51 since the 1940's."

"Third?" Carter asked, curious.  "What happened to the other two?  Are
they also--"

"The first two are dead, Major."

"Did we--those stationed at Nellis--kill them, General?" O'Neill asked.

"One, yes.  The first was killed to prevent escape and further loss of
lives during that attempt.  The other killed himself after nearly three
years."

"Has this Parker tried either of those?"

Fraiser tensed a bit; she was aware that he had, at least sort of.  It
was how they had found the bullet that must have been from his time in
Toronto.  "He shot himself in the head after about five months," she
answered.  "From what they could tell, it had no lasting effects, but
since he won't answer any questions about his past--before or after that
incident--that couldn't sufficiently be determined.  But he immediately
recognised where he was when he woke from surgery, so I doubt he lost
all his memories.  Two bullets were removed at that time.  One was from
being shot in the line of duty at his last job."

"Line of duty?" Sam asked, leaning forward a bit.

Daniel hesitated, but after getting a nod from Hammond, answered, "He
was a cop in his last job, a homicide detective."

"And we've been instructed not to ask questions about nor reveal what we
know about his past," Hammond added.  "Dr. Jackson and Dr. Fraiser will
have the most contact with him."

"So this is for certain?  This Parker being brought here?" O'Neill
asked.

"He arrived early this morning," Hammond said.

"He is in Isolation One," Fraiser added, knowing someone would ask.
"And presently under heavy sedation, and I would really like to wake him
before he wakes on his own."

"Wakes on his own?" O'Neill echoed.  "From heavy sedation?"

"His physiology is very resistant to any kind of change, even constant
sedation.  He heals very, very quickly," she explained.  "He is at least
more susceptible to sedatives and tranquillisers than bullets or even a
Zat.  The last two can temporarily disable him, but are not recommended
on their own."

Hammond watched SG-1 go uncomfortably quiet.  "Security for Dr. Parker
will primarily be handled by officers from Nellis, but I want you all to
be aware of how to disable him and step in if necessary.  If he is
released from isolation, you will be told more regarding how best to do
that."

"If he's released from isolation?" Carter asked, finally letting her
copy of the file drop to the table.  "He might not be?"

"It will depend on his behaviour upon waking, Major," Hammond stated
then stood.  "Dr. Fraiser, prepare to wake him.  SG-1, follow me to the
observation area."

Daniel lagged behind, not wanting to be questioned.  Upon reaching the
observation area, Sam moved the closest to the glass to peer down on the
gurney in the centre of the room.

"He appears completely human," she said.

"I think we all know first looks don't mean much," O'Neill stated with a
wince, carefully peering at the man below, likely knocked out from the
IV in his arm.  "Besides, he's unconscious."  Then O'Neill noticed
something.  "No restraints, Sir?" he asked Hammond.

"Titanium handcuffs," Hammond answered.  "More to slow him down than
specifically to restrain him--Fraiser will remove them once he's awake
and calm."

"Colonel, he's much stronger than a regular human, even weakened by the
drugs.  Normal restraints probably wouldn't do much good, and the
handcuffs would be easier to remove," Carter stated.  "Which also means
he's stronger than a Jaffa."

"The best comparison I have is those armbands the Tok-ra had the three
of you test," Hammond said, nodding to all but Teal'c.

"And we got off the base," Jack countered smugly.  "*Twice*."

"That there were three of us probably helped," Daniel noted.  "There's
only one of him, and at least we know what he's capable of."

"And just what--exactly--is that?" O'Neill asked.

"Ah, for one, once he wakes, he'll be able to hear us," Daniel said.
"And I'd assume we're using Isolation One because the glass is clear."

"What does that matter?"

"His kind are able to see through one-way glass, and he might take the
use of it as an attempt at deception," Hammond stated, then he leaned
over to the intercom so he could be heard in the room below, "Is
everything ready, Doctor?"

"Yes, Sir.  All I need do is remove the IV."

"Then do so."



A Trial Run - (04/32)

Down in the isolation room, Dr. Fraiser approached the side of the
gurney.  She felt a bit apprehensive about doing this and then staying
there while he woke, but the files had indicated that he had never
harmed any of the doctors or nurses who had dealt with him.  Still,
there were two guards at the door, plus two medical support personnel
she didn't know just inside of the door.  Taking in a deep breath, she
carefully removed the IV line, but not the needle from Parker's left
arm, then moved the stand off to the side of the room.

By the time she had returned to the side of the gurney, he had begun to
wake.  She walked around to his other side so that he would see her
right away if he didn't shift his head before opening his eyes.  For a
couple of minutes, he almost appeared to be dreaming.  Then his eyes
abruptly snapped open and his gaze locked on her.  He tried to sit up
more, only to be stopped by the handcuffs and what appeared to be
lightheadedness.

"Take it easy," she said, instinctively moving forward with the
intention of keeping her patient from sitting up.  While it worked, she
never got to the point of actually gently pushing him back.  If it
wasn't that he pulled as far away from her as possible, she would have
stepped back herself.  The eyes that stared back at her were
narrowed...and a strange goldish-yellow, like a cat's in a dim room.
The change felt more intimidating up close, even though she guessed it
was more from fear than hostility.  "It's all right," she assured him,
holding up her empty hands so that he could see she didn't have anything
in them.  "My name is Dr. Janet Fraiser."  When he remained silent,
merely staring at her with those strange eyes, she asked, "How do you
feel?"

"What do you care?" Nick asked, his eyes glancing at her white jacket
over her uniform.  "Where am I?  I don't recognise this room."

"You are at the SGC, Stargate Command."

Nick looked away from the doctor, glancing to the white scrubs he was
wearing...and the dull, silvery handcuffs binding his wrists to the
gurney.

"Do you understand where that is?"

"Yes," he said, his eyes darting back up to the doctor.

"And do you understand why you are here?"

He didn't answer, his gaze shifting to the glassed-in observation area a
level above.  Two of the men he recognised; two other men and a woman he
did not.  He could hear the hearts of several others even closer by,
behind him and off to one side.

"Nicholas?"

His eyes darted almost angrily back to the mortal upon hearing his name.
"I remember being asked if I would be willing to come here."

"No one informed you that you were being allowed to and that you would
be brought here?" Fraiser asked, surprised he didn't know anything about
being moved.

"No.  No one has told me *anything*," Nick said with a slight smirk to
the doctor, and then his eyes dropped to the handcuffs.  They weren't
normal handcuffs, the chain and cuffs themselves a bit thicker than he
remembered.  He carefully tugged on them, but the links didn't budge.
They felt lighter, possibly titanium or some titanium alloy.  While he
suspected he could still snap them, he was unsure if the metal rods to
which they were attached would remain intact or bend before the links
broke.

Fraiser noticed what he was looking at, and her eyes followed his gaze.
She could see the snow white skin where the cuffs had pressed when he
let the chains slack.  The white lingered longer than it should have--if
he had been a healthy human.  He had tested them. Yet, when he again
looked up at her, his eyes looked a very normal blue.  She had to
suppress a slight smile at seeing him relax a little, and instead asked,
"If I undo those, will you try to either leave this room or harm me?"

Nick hesitated, a bit surprised at the question, but again said, "No,"
in reply.  He tensed when she pulled something out of a pocket.  He
pulled away while she undid the cuff on his right hand, then shifted the
other way when she walked around the gurney to the other side and undid
that cuff.  The small freedom didn't make him feel any less watched or
caged, and even while she smiled reassuringly at him, he again sat up.

"Easy now," Fraiser said, backing away a little when, after sitting up,
he turned and swung his legs over the side of the gurney.  "You've been
unconscious for the past fourteen hours.  You should rest."

"I'm fine," Nick insisted, then his eyes locked on the needle taped into
his left arm.  It itched, and he roughly ripped it free.

The doctor was a little taken aback at his action, even more when he
hopped down from the gurney and rather quickly walked around it, all the
while watching her.  His arm bled slightly.  "I would have removed that,
if you had asked."

"*Would you?  Truly?*" he asked, letting his gaze bore into her, prying
her mind with his words.

"Yes, I would have," Fraiser answered, not completely of her own
volition.  When he averted his eyes, she felt oddly off-balance.  He had
ordered her to answer, half-forcing her to tell the truth, probably
thinking she wouldn't.  This mind-control was one of the vampire's
abilities.  She watched him start to slowly pace, prowling the parts of
the room furthest from her and those at the door.

After several minutes, he paused, realising one of the men above had
left--the general he had met before.  He turned to face away from the
glass, but didn't resume pacing.

"If you'll sit down, I'd like to check a few things--your respiratory
rate, body temperature--"

"No," Nick quickly replied, shaking his head.  "I will not submit to any
tests."

"I merely wish to compare your present condition to previous readings.
Your temperature and the like have been regularly checked and recorded."

"I said no."

"Maybe later, then?" she suggested, but didn't get an answer.  Her
attention shifted to the door, where Hammond had arrived, starting the
guards into action.  Only medical personnel--essentially just
herself--were actually allowed in for the time being.  "Excuse me for a
moment," she said to her patient, then she went to the door and told the
guards to let General Hammond in.

Nick eyed the doctor when she turned her back to him and even blocked
the path to--or from--the door.  He stiffened when the man he had met
before entered and moved toward him.

"I believe you two have met previously," Dr. Fraiser said.

"Yes," he confirmed, his eyes not leaving the man.  "General...Hammond,
I believe?"  Getting a nod, he added with a near sneer, "So we meet
again."

"You sound surprised, Son," Hammond said.

"As I told you, I didn't think they would ever allow this."

"And they still may not, not permanently, anyway.  For now, this is
merely a trial.  Whether you stay or not depends on whether you comply
with Dr. Fraiser and Security.  Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Nick again answered.

"And do you wish to remain here and make a trial run of this?"

Nick nodded.

"Then there are some conditions you need to be aware of.  At all times
you will be in a designated area and you will remain with your security
detail.  You will not reveal what you are, either verbally or by drawing
attention by changing around others, to any individuals on this base
beyond said detail, myself, Dr. Fraiser, Dr. Jackson, and the other
members of his SG team, SG-1."

Nick's gaze shifted to the observation area.  The woman and two men with
Dr. Jackson must be the team to which Hammond was referring.

"You will receive four injections per day, administered by either Dr.
Fraiser or another medical personnel member.  If this individual does
not know what you are, you will go along with or give a false reason for
the injections."

Tearing his gaze away from those watching him, Nick again focused on
Hammond.  The general had stopped speaking.  "And?  What other
conditions are there?"

"Those are the conditions you need to be concerned with."  Hammond
paused, exhaling before adding, "You will remain here in this room until
tomorrow morning, at which time you will be taken to your quarters.
Tomorrow you will also be more formally informed about the research you
have seen and participated in."

Nick's mind caught on one word, and he repeated, "Quarters?  This isn't
where I'll be staying?"

"This is temporary," Hammond answered.

"Sir, I haven't yet been able to examine him," Fraiser added, knowing
Hammond would want to make sure Parker's tests were normal before he
left isolation.

"I will not submit to any tests," Nick more firmly stated.

"And like I said, it is merely to ensure--"

Hammond moved one step closer and locked his eyes on the seemingly
younger man.  "You will not leave this room until Dr. Fraiser has
medically cleared you.  Nor will you remain in this facility if you
refuse this request.  Do we understand each other?"

Nick tensed, and eventually nodded at Hammond's solid statement, then he
turned and moved away from the two.  He supposed he'd have to comply,
but the idea still held no appeal to him.

Hammond relaxed his stance.  "Good.  That being settled, I think we
should know what name would you prefer to go by, Son?"

Turning slowly back, Nick narrowed his eyes at the other man's
overly-familiar way of addressing him.  True, a good two or three
decades separated them in age of appearance, but he could never quite
get used to someone so much younger than him addressing him the way
Hammond did--and this mortal had to know he was actually the younger,
making it all the more odd.  He suspected, by this last question, that
perhaps the general didn't want to use the also rather familiar
'Nicholas' that had been used at Nellis.  This forced his thoughts back
to the question, and he asked one of his own, "Do I really have a
choice?"

"Why wouldn't you have a choice?" Fraiser asked, again a bit stunned by
the question.

"I haven't made any choices regarding my name so far."

"Major Newell instructed us to call you Nicholas," Hammond stated.  "Is
that your real name?"

"It is as close to one as I'm willing to give."

"Dr. Jackson has known you as Dr. Nicholas Parker.  Do you prefer to
stay with that name, or would you prefer another?  You may go by
whatever name you wish."

Nick viewed the question as prying for information about his past, and
he said, "Parker is fine."

"Do you prefer Nicholas or Nick?"

He tensed at the second.  He both felt more and less comfortable hearing
the shortened version.  Both were reminders, instigators of memories
that weren't necessarily good.  "Whichever."  He looked away again,
forcing himself not to meet the gazes of those watching him.

"Sir, I think it would be best if we left for now."  Fraiser then smiled
at Nick.  "So you can rest and become used to your new home.  Or as much
as you can for the time being."

Hammond vaguely nodded, turning to Dr. Fraiser.  "Briefing room at
ten-hundred hours, Doctor."

"Yes, Sir."  Fraiser waited until Hammond had left the room, then said,
"Nick, I'll be back in about three hours to begin--"

"My sedative regimen," he finished.

"Yes," she confirmed.  "And if you feel up to it, at that time I would
really like to clear you."

Nick didn't turn or answer, not even while she let him know she could
turn the lights out if he wanted.  He had been unconscious--either from
sleep or against his will--for the entirety of the past day, by the
sound of it.  It was morning, and he knew that without being around
other people, he had likely become accustomed to sleeping during the day
while at Nellis.  He neither needed nor wanted to rest or sleep, so
instead he resumed slowly pacing.

He only noticed that the observation room had emptied except for Dr.
Jackson when he stopped pacing to try and find a clock.  Moments later,
his lone watcher also left, which didn't help him relax at all.  In a
little over two more hours, the doctor would return, or that was his
guess.  Noon--give or take half an hour--but noon made the most sense.

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

"Thank you very much for allowing me to do this today, Nick," Dr.
Fraiser said with a smile while she wrote down the result of his last
test, his body temperature.  If not for some of their non-standard
equipment, she suspected she wouldn't have gotten many of the readings.
His body temperature was a good ten degrees off, and his heartrate was
downright weird--she hadn't been able to measure that as adequately as
she would have liked.

Nick simply sat utterly still on the gurney, trying to be cooperative or
at least tolerant of the doctor's actions.  He had allowed this simply
to get it over with, and had been surprised she hadn't asked for a blood
sample.  When he had asked at the start of her exam if she would do so,
she had said that would come later, and only if he stayed.  And even
then she might not ask for one.

"Now," Fraiser continued when she didn't get any reply, "I've been
informed this is a different formulation than what you've been receiving
recently."  She paused after retrieving an already prepared syringe.
"So if it causes any side-effects, I want you to tell me right away."

Nick didn't look at her or reply, but he did move his arm so she could
more easily give him the injection.  He nearly flinched back when her
gloved hands touched him again--her warm gloved hands, which quickly
pulled away from him.

"I'm sorry.  Did I do something that--"

"No," he quickly answered, not wanting to explain the cause of his
discomfort.  "Continue."

Fraiser took in a breath, a bit annoyed at his brushing off of her
questions or concerns for the good half-dozenth time.  She did continue,
and tried to give him the injection quickly.  He flinched again when she
touched his arm.  Either he didn't like it or it made him uncomfortable,
regardless what he said.  "There.  That's it."

Before she had finished talking, Nick slid off the gurney and moved
several steps away.  He felt a bit off, as he usually did after the
injections.  The potent mixture of sedatives and blood made it difficult
to decide exactly how he felt.

"Now, please don't pace for the entirety of the next six hours.  And you
also have a visitor, I believe."

He turned back at the mention of a visitor.  "Who?"

"Dr. Jackson.  If you'd rather be alone, I can tell him to wait until
tomorrow."

Nick slowly shook his head at the suggestion.  He caught another
friendly smile from her before she left.  Seconds later, he tensed when
his visitor entered.  This time Dr. Jackson had on blue fatigues instead
of civilian clothes, and he carried a bag.  He moved so that the gurney
stood between them, although it gave the other man a perfect place to
set the bag.  Without warning, Nick felt a wave of dizziness, and he had
to close his eyes for a moment.

Daniel watched Nick shut his eyes and almost sway.  "You all right?"

"Fine," he automatically replied, opening his eyes to nearly glare at
the other man.  Then, however, he looked away, his gaze darting to the
observation area for a moment, which was currently empty.  His attention
was brought back by the rustling of the bag.

"You mentioned before that all you had seen so far were scans," Daniel
said, pulling out a small tablet.  "I thought you might like to see a
couple of artefacts that we've found."  He held out the small, not quite
diamond-shaped tablet.

Nick stared at the item for a moment before taking it.  It was shaped
like an upside-down triangle of sorts, or the side profile of a faceted
gemstone.  It felt like smooth stone, had the heft and feel of stone,
but it was too perfectly smooth.

"Take this and pass it horizontally over the text," Daniel said holding
out another object.

He once more hesitated, but took the small, clear blue egg-shaped stone
and did as instructed.  The symbols, the words magically changed.  He
did it again, and they changed again.

"Most of what I have is video or rubbings, which probably explains the
scans you got.  Some of the physical items are actually technological
and, as you can see, even a small artefact can have a fair bit of text
to translate."

"It's rather like a book," Nick said, turning the page again.  He set
the page-turning stone down so that he could feel the symbols with his
free hand, which were quite solid to the touch.

Daniel watched Nick curiously flip the tablet over, touching the
different surfaces.  "Is it about what you expected?"  After a second,
he clarified, "The technology, I mean."

"It seems so simple...  It's rather archaic in appearance, considering
what it does."

"That's actually pretty typical, or at least not unusual."  Daniel found
the object handed back, and he took both it and the stone and replaced
them in his bag.  From the answer he had gotten and the other man's
behaviour, it suggested this object was something new, and he asked,
"You said you'd only seen scans--scans of objects themselves, or--"

"Just text.  Text and what I can glean from any verbal description."

"So you've never seen scans of any full items, like what I showed you?"
Daniel got a shake of the head for an answer; he knew they had discussed
text found on several other tablets.  Nick Parker must have received
cropped images of the text itself.  Now, however, wasn't the time to go
into questions about that, not yet.

He pulled out other items.  "Well, this is--"  He paused, handing out a
folder, which Nick quickly opened to reveal scanned pages.  "I thought
you might like to continue with our recent discussion.  The scanned
pages are some of my notes."

Nick flipped through the papers, which contained notes, sketches, and
original, much clearer scans than he had received.  At the back he found
blank paper, and a pen and mechanical pencil clipped inside the back of
the folder.

"Since you're stuck in here until tomorrow morning at least, I thought
you might want something to do beyond walk in circles or stare
at...well, nothing."

Nick closed the folder.  "Do you have permission to give me this?"

"Ah, yes, from both General Hammond and Dr. Fraiser."

"Major Newell and--"

"As I understand it, Hammond and Fraiser now make any decisions
regarding your stay here."

Nick raised the hand he had the folder in slightly.  "Was this--my
coming here--their idea?"

"Actually, it was mine," Daniel admitted, darting his eyes away for a
moment.  "But the decision wasn't."

Nick dropped his arm and let his gaze follow the folder.  He was
grateful to have something he could do other than wait if he so chose.

"Now I need to go, and I'm sure you want to rest or at least not be
bothered for a bit."  Daniel waited a moment, but the vampire didn't
shift in the slightest, let alone nod or make a verbal reply.  "I hope
you settle in smoothly, and I suspect some of this will soon be less
confusing."

Nick didn't glance up until his visitor had started out.  Again, he
noticed very little fear or apprehension from Dr. Jackson.  They were
treating him cautiously, true, but as if he were normal.  It felt
strange after being treated for so long as a very dangerous, non-human
criminal.

Nick closed his eyes for a moment; he felt slightly tired, with a hint
of dizziness lingering.  Dr. Jackson had been correct that he wanted to
be alone, or as close to alone as he could get with guards at the room's
entrance and cameras peering down on him.  At Nellis he had at least had
the illusion of isolation, the illusion of not being watched.

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

"Now, this is your room," Fraiser said, nodding to one of the guards,
who swiped a key card and pulled the door open.  "When you're not
working or seeing me, you should probably remain here whenever
possible."

Nick tried not to show his surprise at the relatively nice-looking room.
It was at least double the size of his previous quarters, and while
quite plain, the furniture was real wood.  It was far different from the
mattress on a cot, the metal folding table, and chair he had before.
The chairs were the same, but his new bed was larger and a nightstand
with a lamp stood off to one side.  He also had a dresser and a
bookshelf.

"There are clothes in the dresser, and you can use the clock on the
table for an alarm.  As I told you earlier this morning, it would be
easiest if you came to the infirmary for all but the midnight dose of
your medications.  You'll get a tour in a couple of hours.  For now, you
might want to take a shower, change--"

"Take a shower?" Nick interrupted, turning toward the doctor, wondering
if he had misheard.

"Yes.  This is often used for guest quarters.  Off to the left is a
bathroom."  Fraiser watched Nick slowly enter the room, examine the
furniture, and glance into the small attached bathroom before his gaze
momentarily locked onto the camera in one corner of the room, then he
finally turned back on her.  "If you're wondering, no, there isn't a
camera in there."

Nick ignored the comment, instead asking, "When exactly will this tour
be?"

"Dr. Jackson will show you around when it is time for your next
injection, so just before noon."  Fraiser tried to give him a smile, but
found it difficult with him glaring blankly at her, apparently uncaring.
"Unless you have questions and want me to stay, I'm going to head back
to the infirmary.  All right?"  When she didn't get a reply, she left,
pulling the door shut behind her.

For nearly a minute Nick simply stood there, half-expecting the door to
reopen.  When it didn't, he relaxed a little before examining the room
more closely.  The only book on the bookshelves he could see the title
of was a Latin-English dictionary, something he didn't really need
anymore.  His eyes then darted to the drawers, and he walked over to
them, wondering what kinds of clothes had been provided for his stay.
Pulling the drawers open, he found black t-shirts and blue fatigues.
Basically what he had seen Dr. Jackson--and a few others during his trip
from the other room--wearing, although military personnel appeared to
wear green or camouflage.

In other drawers, he found other items--socks, underwear of a couple
styles, sweatpants, almost too many options, considering he hadn't had
any choice in what to wear over the past few years.  Sometimes he had
been stuck with scrubs.

His eyes darted to the floor where he found black combat boots next to
his bare feet.  Shoes.  He hadn't worn shoes for...  No, he couldn't
think about then, about his life before now.  Quickly he pulled out
several items from the dresser and started toward the bathroom, where he
shut the door and revelled in the complete privacy.  That was another
thing he hadn't had in some time.

Nick took his time taking a shower, then after dressing he found yet
more items laid out by the sink.  He smiled oddly at the unnecessary
toothbrush, even more so since he was being fed by injection.  The
electric shaver, however, he eagerly seized and used.  While he usually
woke up clean-shaven after being knocked out at Nellis, it had been a
couple days since they had sedated him to move him.

Finally Nick found himself out of ways to stall returning to the main
room.  He stared at himself in the mirror over the sink, his reflection
clearer than normal, or at least clearer than he last remembered.
Granted, this was a modern mirror--his reflection always appeared
clearer in more recently made, mass-produced mirrors.  Averting his
gaze, he turned and pulled open the door so that he could return to the
dresser to continue getting dressed.  There he pulled out a roll of
socks and bent down to pick up the boots, which he felt a bit
apprehensive about.

Turning and walking toward the bed, Nick's eyes caught on the time.
Already it was past eleven, approaching eleven-thirty.  That answered
his question of whether or not he should put the shoes on quite yet or
wait.  He wanted to be ready to leave whenever Dr. Jackson arrived.

Like the rest of the provided clothes, the boots fit nearly perfectly,
although when he stood and walked to the door and back, it felt odd,
almost awkward even, not to be barefoot.  He returned to sit on the bed.
While waiting, he picked up the alarm clock and set the alarm for 5:45
for the next day.  Fifteen minutes would be plenty of time to wake,
dress, and get to wherever he needed to go.

Setting the clock back on the nightstand, Nick tensed at the quick
knocks on the door.  He hesitated a moment before standing and going to
the door, where he pulled it open a crack.  A guard stood on either side
of the door, with a third a short distance down the hall on the other
wall.  Dr. Jackson stood between the nearer security guards who stood
fairly close to the door, and Nick pulled the door open further.  His
guest didn't have anything with him; Nick had somewhat expected the
mortal might bring the folder he had been given the day before.  He had
been told to leave that earlier before being led here.  "No notes?"

"Ah, no.  Those are back in my lab--"

"So you're my designated chaperone," Nick stated rather flatly, trying
not to smirk at his thoughts.

"More of a guide, actually," Daniel corrected.

"A tour guide."

"That, and a bit more."

"So where are we going first?"

"The infirmary.  It's on level 21," he said and stood off to the side,
moved back, and waited for Nick to enter the hall.  Once he had, Daniel
continued, "Right now we're on level 25, and my lab--office, really--is
on level 18."

Nick followed Dr. Jackson, who explained where he could and could not
go, essentially those three levels, but more broadly he wasn't supposed
to go above the highest or below the lowest of those floors, which were
numbered backwards since they were underground, all the while focusing
on memorising the path from his quarters to the infirmary.  It didn't
take long before they reached their destination; it took the most time
to get from his quarters to the elevator.  After the short elevator ride
upwards and not much longer of a walk, Nick stiffened upon entering the
infirmary and seeing Dr. Fraiser's cheery smile--somewhat forced, but he
suspected that had to do with his minimal reactions and responses.  He
didn't want to get close, become friendly with any of those here.

"You appear much more relaxed."

Nick's lips parted to speak, but he thought better of it.  In truth he
felt *less* relaxed.

"I take it everything fits all right?" she asked, glancing over his
clothes.

Uncomfortable, Nick looked askance, pretending to examine the room.
"It's fine."

"And the boots?"

"Fine...so far," he again simply answered.

Fraiser lightly pursed her lips, but only for a moment.  She wished he
would say more.  "Now, if you'd take that off," she said nodding to his
over-shirt, "and take a seat, I'll get you two on your way," she said,
then moved away to prepare his injections.

As Nick hadn't buttoned the shirt up, slipping it off took less time
than sitting on one of the beds.  When she came back to him, she quickly
prodded his arm to find a vessel to inject the blood and sedative into,
which she then did slowly.

"All right," Fraiser started, "You should probably--"  She abruptly
stopped when he pulled the over-shirt back on and easily slipped down
off the gurney.  "I would prefer if you waited a few minutes before
leaving."

"But I can go?" Nick shortly asked, glancing to the exit.

She took in a deep breath, but nodded.  "Yes, you may go, but I want you
back here if you experience any side effects."

Nick headed to the door, only stopping when he realised he had no idea
which way to go.  His security guards were also there, and he had seen
one reach toward his weapon at first.

"Come on, this way," Daniel said, pointing the way down the hall toward
his lab.  "I'd show you the mess, but I gather you can't eat regular
food, right?"

"No," Nick considered, and he lagged back slightly.

"That include liquids?"

"For the most part," Nick vaguely answered.  The only things he could
semi-easily drink--beyond blood, of course--were water and alcohol, and
then only small amounts and not on a frequent basis.  The first he could
easily get in his room if he wanted any, and the latter certainly
wouldn't be in a military cafeteria.

Daniel stopped at the response.  "For the most part?  If you'd like, I
can show you--"

"No," Nick said more firmly.  "No need."

Nodding at that, Daniel continued to the elevator, where he punched the
button for level 18.

Nick again tried to focus on their path, but it was more difficult.  For
one, there was his security detail, who followed him silently.  His
guide was now explaining how to get from his quarters to where they were
presently heading; he'd rather figure that out whenever he went back.
The quick rush of excitement and exhaustion from his injection
distracted him on its own.  As long as he could find and use the
elevator, he figured he'd be all right.

He zoned out at some point, only realising they had arrived when the
hall suddenly became a room with many shelves of books and a few
scattered artefacts.  The artefacts were mostly Egyptian, but the books
were on many different cultures and subjects.

"So, Nick...or Nicholas, whichever you prefer--"  Daniel paused, but the
other man again remained silent.  "I guess I should start by asking what
you've officially been told about the Stargate Program."

"Officially?" Nick asked, amused.  "Nothing, officially."

"Nothing?"

"I was merely told that I could assist with some classified research, if
I wished."

"That was it?"

"Pretty much.  Although it was more gradual.  They started by giving me
various tests.  I didn't--at first I didn't complete them, but then they
gave me another with a language I'd never seen before.  It piqued my
interest, and I completed the others.  I suppose you could say they took
advantage of my...curiosity.  And the fact that I might want to do
something other than sit in a room and do nothing."  He smirked.  "Once
they realised I was willing to learn the language...they started giving
me little snippets.  At first everything was...any messages--if they
were messages and not just more tests--were stripped down to the
extreme.  Eventually messages became less edited--the first one like
that was, I think, from you.  A translation that was...it...I think they
gave it to me because no one else could figure it out."

"Have you talked or corresponded with anyone else?"

"I don't know.  I don't think so, or if so, not recently.  They didn't
really want me talking to anyone, but I think--I think they let it
continue with the hope I'd tell them something."

"But you just kept your replies strictly on the work," Daniel said,
knowing it was true from the focused responses he received.  "Did you
ever...ask anyone for any sort of explanation or--"

"No.  I didn't ask.  And other than being told that the research was
classified, they didn't tell me anything.  Anything specific I might be
aware of, I've guessed from your e-mails."

Daniel tried to think back over their correspondence, but he couldn't
think where he had ever really explained anything.  And if his messages
were initially edited down--to nothing--that would have made it even
harder.  "Then my next question is...what have you guessed?"

Nick stared at Dr. Jackson for a moment.  Then, turning his attention to
the room itself, he replied, "The Stargate Program," then went quiet,
feeling nervous talking about this.

Daniel nodded. "Go on.  There are no wrong answers, but I would like to
see what assumptions you've made."

"The stargate itself is an alien-made device that can transport people
and matter from one location, one...planet, to another."  He paused,
still feeling a bit uncomfortable talking about this; it had sounded
more normal back in his white isolation cell.  "It was once used by
the...Goa'uld...to transport humans from here to become slaves."  This
time he stumbled around the name of the alien race, but pronounced it
correctly.  "They took on the identities of gods and goddesses and other
godlike rulers to maintain power over these humans, both here
and...elsewhere."

Daniel was only faintly surprised at the rather accurate guess.  He
hadn't, after all, noticed any lack of knowledge on Parker's part during
their electronic conversations.

"And through this stargate, other aliens, or at least remnants of their
civilisations, have been discovered.  I get the impression there are
hundreds, possibly even thousands of these stargates throughout our
galaxy."  Nick paused again, noting Jackson seemed awfully quiet.  "How
close was that, Dr. Jackson?"

"About right for a general overview," he admitted.  "Dead-on, actually.
And Daniel is fine."

"Are you going to take me back to my room now that you've ascertained
what I know?"

"Only if you want to rest."  Getting a shake of the head, Daniel more
specifically explained, "Today is to give you a more detailed overview
of the stargate, some of the people and technology we have encountered,
and what we do both here and off-world.  After that, I'd like to get a
more real-time evaluation of your translation skills, including your
pronunciations of Goa'uld and Ancient in particular."

"And then?"

"And then you will get an assignment."

"An assignment?"

"At first probably some backlogged translations."

"So...work?"  He got a nod, at which he asked, "Paid or unpaid?"

At that Daniel didn't have an answer.  "Well, I get paid--sort of,
but--"

"But I don't."

"Actually, I have no idea.  Never thought about it, frankly."

"I guess my 'payment' is probably being allowed to come here."

While Daniel suspected that might indeed be all the payment Nick would
get, he said, "I'll ask.  You never know."  He gestured toward a stool,
and pulled another closer for himself to sit on.  Once they were both
sitting, he began, "The stargate was initially found in Giza in 1928,
buried and sealed by a cover-stone with previously unknown symbols..."



A Trial Run - (05/32)

"So, how did it go with your...friend yesterday?" O'Neill asked at lunch
the following day.  "Or this morning, for that matter?"

"Fine," Daniel stated.  "His pronunciation of Goa'uld could use some
practise; he's fine with reading it, though, and understanding it.  His
Ancient is--frankly, it's probably better than mine, likely thanks to
his strong familiarity with Latin, both Medieval, Classical, possibly
even some knowledge of pre-Classical Latin, by my guess."

Jack stared blankly at Daniel for a moment before clarifying, "How did
he behave--how is he behaving?"

"Fine," Daniel repeated.

"Fine?  No creepy yellow eyes or--"

"He's stayed completely normal looking.  He hasn't flipped out or--"

"Vamped out?" Jack suggested.

Sam nearly spit out her food.  "Sir, if he wants to stay, he can't do
that; he'd be shipped back to Area 51, and he knows it.  He's also smart
enough to know that Security is watching his every move."

"Well, Daniel, is he?"

"Yeah, Jack, he's smart enough.  He spots every camera and he seems to
know exactly where his security detail and I are at all times."

"Or maybe he's just not easily spooked," O'Neill suggested, taking
another bite of his lunch.  "He know you won't be here tomorrow?"

"Not yet."

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"Doubt it.  If it is, he probably simply won't be allowed to leave his
room," Daniel guessed.  Tomorrow SG-1 was scheduled to go off-world.

"Is that where he is now?" Sam asked.

"No, he's in my lab working on a translation.  He'll probably be done
with it in a couple of hours."

"And then what?" Jack asked.

Daniel felt a bit annoyed.  This wasn't the first or only time he had
worked with other researchers, and this situation really wasn't that
much different, except that Parker didn't have his own work area.  "And
then I'll give him another set to work on while I check the translation.
We already fixed some minor grammatical misunderstandings yesterday."

"He any friendlier in person than when he woke up in isolation?" Jack
again prodded, waving his empty fork.

"He's quiet, guarded.  Not...unfriendly," Daniel carefully replied.

"He up to any visitors?" Sam asked, curious; she at least wanted to see
what he was like in person.

Daniel avoided answering as long as possible, but eventually conceded
that a visitor would probably be all right.  Jack had immediately
volunteered, then both he and Sam winced, and Teal'c suggested it might
be best if Sam went first.

Daniel had agreed, and an hour later in his lab, he tried to keep his
gaze away from the clock.  It was getting close to the time when Sam had
suggested she could come by.  For now, Daniel himself was also being
watched.

Parker had already finished the first translation he had been given, so
Daniel was picking out a new project.  Figuring now was as good a time
as any, he explained, "By the way, I won't be here tomorrow.  And the
way things sometimes go, I can't guarantee I'll be back the next day,
either.  If you drop by here early, I can let you in, but until you get
a key card, if you leave, you won't be able to re-enter, so you'll have
to take your work with you when you leave."

Daniel expected some sort of questions or comments, so when he got no
reply, he turned back toward Nick, who didn't seem very surprised or
confused.  Obviously, he had been listening yesterday during his
explanation.  "And if you have any questions, you should probably ask
them today."

"When is...early tomorrow?"

"Ah, 6:30, 7:00?"  Daniel turned back and pulled out a thick file with
photographed ruins--Ancient this time, and more than enough text to keep
the other man busy for a few days at the very least.  He walked back to
the table where Nick sat and set the folder nearby.  "There is also some
video of the ruins, but I don't have it here.  You can--"  He stopped
when he heard and saw Sam knock on his open door.

"Am I interrupting?"

Nick slowly turned on the stool he sat on and let his eyes lock on the
blonde woman.  He had seen her before.  She had been in the observation
room when he woke.

"No, no, not interrupting," Daniel replied. "Nick, this is Major
Samantha Carter.  Sam, this is Dr. Nicholas Parker."

Sam stepped forward with a smile, planning to offer her hand, but
settled for a nod when he tensed and ever so slightly leaned away from
her.

"Sam is a member of the team I mentioned I'm a part of," Daniel further
introduced.

"SG-1," Nick stated, his eyes not leaving the woman.

Sam felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze; it almost felt like his
eyes somehow bored into her mind.  She turned her gaze downward for a
moment and pulled out a swipe card.  General Hammond had given it to her
when they ran into one another in the elevator and he found out where
she was headed.  She held it out toward Nick, who tentatively took it.
"That'll get you into both your quarters and Daniel's lab, as well as
elevator access specifically for your designated floors."

"Well, there you go," Daniel said.  "You won't have to come by here
early tomorrow if you want to work in here then--or any other time I'm
not here."

Nick turned the smooth--brand new--plastic card over in his fingers.
"Are there any limits on the hours this card works?"

"Not that I was told--"

"So I could come here in the middle of the night, if I wished?"

Sam nodded.  As far as she was aware, his security detail remained the
same size regardless of the time of day.

"I'll be right back, all right?" Daniel asked, his eyes focused on Sam.
"I want to get a tape of some ruins."

"Sure, that's fine," she said, watching Daniel hesitantly leave, his
eyes glancing back to Nick twice before he vanished from sight.

Now alone with the woman, Nick relaxed slightly, stowing the key card
away in a pocket.  "I saw you watching me a couple of days ago," he
started.  "I take it that means you know what I am, right?"

"Yes, I know what you are."

"And the other men who were with you then--they also know?"

At first Sam just stared back, but knowing he'd meet them both at some
point, she nodded.

"Are they the other members of your team, SG-1?"

"Yes."

"And Dr. Jackson is your translator and culture expert.  So what role do
you play, Major Carter?"

"I'm a scientist, as well."

"Are all those on your team both scientists and soldiers?"

"Ah, no, just me and Daniel, and my area of expertise is actually
physics--engineering, power systems--"

"Technology and how it works, rather than what it might display."

Sam nodded, then after a short bit of awkward silence, she darted her
eyes to the work surface behind him.  "Do you mind if I ask what you're
working on?"

"Nothing for the moment.  Just about to start on something else.  I
haven't looked at it yet."

While surprised--she recalled Daniel estimating it'd be a couple of
hours, yet it had been barely more than one--Sam held back her reaction.
Instead she slowly moved closer, guessing that the thick file right next
to where he sat must be what he would work on next.  He didn't pull back
away from her this time, although he did turn on the stool so that he
continuously faced toward her.  "Is that--"

"Yes."

"May I see what you'll be working on?"

Nick didn't verbally reply and simply nodded to the folder, which she
opened and then flipped slowly and carefully through the photographic
printouts.  "Can you read any of it, Major?" he asked, noticing she
appeared to be scanning the images, almost as if she were reading them.

At the question, Sam quickly neatened the pages and set them down on the
others, but didn't close the folder.  "No, not really.  Not unless it
has something to do with--"

"Something to do with your area of expertise," Nick finished.  "I
understand."

Sam leaned against the table and nodded in reply, then she smiled and
asked, "Speaking of areas of expertise, what's yours?"

Nick smiled lightly in return to the prodding for further information
about him.  "Whatever I am doing here, obviously."

"So part linguist."  When she didn't get any sort of reply, Sam
continued, "Like Daniel.  But he also has other areas of interest.  Any
cultures you particularly focus on?  For example, Daniel's probably most
familiar with ancient Egypt."  He still didn't give her any kind of
answer, and in fact he seemed to have tensed for some reason.  "Look, I
know you've--"

She cut herself off; they weren't supposed to ask him about his past or
mention what they knew about his past to him, and Sam knew she was
pushing it.  "I know you've probably lived long enough to have multiple
careers, and an interest in dead languages tends to go along with
interest in the culture.  And, well, people around here usually jump at
the chance to talk about their otherwise weird or downright classified
areas of interest, things they'd have to hide in other jobs."

Nick's smile vanished and while he relaxed a little, he turned away.  He
understood what she meant.  He had often had to hide his knowledge or
play dumb, and in the past he had also created questions when he
translated in front of his co-workers, particularly if he did so more
than once with widely different languages.

"I'm sorry," Sam apologised.  "Probably too personal."

"Yes," Nick whispered, not turning.

"It's just--well, I'd bet you know more languages than Daniel does.  I'm
only curious."

Nick believed her, and he said, "Maybe."

"Maybe--what?"

"How many languages does Dr. Jackson know?"

"Ah, around forty, forty-five I guess," Sam estimated, knowing he'd
mentioned something around there.

"Then maybe."

"Just maybe?"

"I don't keep track, and it depends if dialects count."

Sam was surprised he didn't know; if she knew a ton of languages, she'd
certainly keep track.  "Well, you can always add them up."

"Why?  So you can win a bet?" he guessed.

Sam froze.  She had in fact made a bet with Jack, a small one, but she
did hope she'd win it.  "Maybe, but I'd think it'd be interesting to
know, wouldn't it?  I mean to know how many languages and versions of
those languages you know..."

"'A lot' generally suffices," he replied, his smile returning for a
split second.

Sam shifted when silence returned.  "So...Daniel went to get a tape."

"I'm assuming of the ruins in the file."  He shifted, touching the
corner of the folder.  "Do you find a lot of archaeological sites?"

"Not...really.  It's probably less common among the possibilities of
what we typically find.  I suppose it depends on your definition,
though."

"Possibilities--such as?"

"Ah, actual present civilisation, which doesn't always mean
archaeological sites.  Besides, many planets are uninhabited.  Old
naquada mines--"

"What *is* naquada?  Beyond some mineral or metal that seems relatively
common."

"The Goa'uld use it extensively in most of their technology.  We've been
able to create power sources with it ourselves, but it's used in
everything from hand weapons to ships' engines.  The stargate itself is
also partially made of naquada.  It's not found anywhere on Earth, nor
in our solar system," Sam explained, noticing his interest had been
renewed.  "I'm sure I could show you one of our naquada reactors
sometime."

"Don't make promises you won't get clearance for."

Sam felt a bit taken aback, not only from the comment, but from the way
he looked at her.  "It's not a promise, and I don't see why I couldn't
get permission to show you one.  I could easily bring one here--they're
quite portable."  She had expected possibly a nod or other
acknowledgement that she could try if she wanted, but Nick merely
stonily stared at her, nearly glaring.  So much for his enthusiasm.  Sam
found a saviour from further awkward silence in Daniel when he returned
with a videotape from a camcorder.

"Everything all right?" Daniel asked, noticing Nick's near glare.

Nick looked away from Major Carter and back to Jackson.  "No problem."

"I'll...let you two get back to work," Sam said with a faintly forced
smile.  "And I think I'll see about getting permission for that, Dr.
Parker."

Daniel's gaze followed Sam out before asking, "Permission for what?"

"She said something about showing me a naquada reactor."

"Ah, yes.  I gather she told you she's--"

"A scientist--a physicist and engineer."

"Be careful, or she'll have you learn how to build one."  Daniel waved
the tape a little, his attention straying to the TV.  "This will only
take a moment," he said, slipping the tape into a camcorder and hooking
it up to the television, which he swivelled more toward Nick.  "I think
you'll like this.  The ruins were very close to the gate, so you should
also get a glimpse of that, too."

Nick waited as the recording began to play back.  At first the camera
focused on some mechanical vehicle, then it panned past three armed men
in green fatigues and black vests.  They were all armed with handguns
and a larger hand-held machine gun of some sort.  He could also see a
couple of the small, hand-held alien weapons that were used on him at
Nellis to stun him.

He heard talking while the camera focused more on slabs of perfectly cut
rock or some sort of cement-like stone that had letters, symbols,
engraved in it.  Daniel narrated some of what he could see, but Nick's
eyes weren't on the alien text or soldiers, but the horizon.  He could
barely believe this was some other planet, a sunrise or sunset on some
alien world.  He hadn't seen anything resembling a sunrise since...
Nick shut his eyes and abruptly turned away.

Daniel stopped speaking, hearing a stool scrape a bit on the floor.
"You all right?  I can call Dr. Fraiser--"

"I'm fine," Nick said, snapping his eyes back to the video, which had
been paused.  "Are all planets so much like Earth?"

"Most of those with stargates are.  Some uncannily so.  As I mentioned
earlier, they're generally habitable by humans, either currently or in
the past."  Daniel nodded to the video.  "That's actually a moon,
though."

Nick's gaze continued to watch the horizon even after the mortal began
speaking again.  He barely listened, his attention only broken away from
the sky--and then only for a moment--when the other man paused the video
on the stargate.  Nick faintly wondered if he would ever get to see
Earth's stargate.

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

"So, find anything?"

Daniel looked up from a computer in Sam's lab to find not only her, but
Jack and Teal'c as well.  "It time to start already?" he asked no one in
particular, and checked his watch.  Nope, still a half-hour before
breakfast.

"No, just curious about what you found."

"Well, I think I know why they picked 'Parker' for his last name,"
Daniel said, turning back to the computer while the three approached.

"Which is...?" Jack asked.

"In Vietnam, he was Lieutenant Nicholas Parker with the Red Cross,
associated with the U.S. Army.  Probably matched him up with his picture
and lack of a past, or maybe his fingerprints, if they had them on
file."  Daniel pulled up the profile he had found.

Sam leaned closer.  "He doesn't look a day older now than thirty years
ago."

"Then you should see this," Daniel said as he opened up an image he had
found--in a book in his lab, of all places.  "It's old, but--"

"Oh, my God, that's him," Sam said, squinting at the face of a man among
soldiers, many injured.  "I'm sure that's him."

"That photograph appears to be very old, Daniel Jackson."

"It is, Teal'c.  American Civil War.  It's from the 1860's, more than a
hundred years older than the other one."

"Looks like he sided with the North," Jack noted, nodding at the
uniforms.  "*If* that's actually him."

"I'm pretty sure it is.  While no one is specifically identified, he
appears to be a doctor, and the assigned surgeon was a Dr. Nicholas
Knight.  And Knight was also his most recent chosen identity in
Toronto."

"And why you wanted to use my computer earlier," Sam said.

"Well, he was a homicide detective--recently.  I figured I might find
some video from reporters about one of his cases or something, and
thought it would be best if he didn't know I was digging."

"And did you find anything?" Jack asked.

"Yes, I did.  It's mostly him saying 'no comment' to reporters, although
I think you can kind of get a better idea of what 'normal' is for his
behaviour from some of the longer statements."  Daniel then played a
couple of the latter; Nick's slight but generally unidentifiable accent
sounded the same, but he appeared less guarded and more comfortable,
even though his frustration showed at times.  "And this is some of what
was aired when he and his friend vanished."  Daniel started up another
video clip, basically something between a Missing Persons report and a
Wanted broadcast.  Pictures and vital information were shown for both of
them, along with a couple of far more candid photographs, likely from
either where he worked or another work function.  Although they were
stills, it was very apparent that he and Dr. Natalie Lambert were very
good friends.  In one photo, where the two were less isolated, Nick's
wide, bright smile dimmed considerably and became guarded.  Yet even
that guarded good mood outshone anything they had seen over the last few
days.

"Clearly they were good friends," Sam said once Daniel stopped the
recording.  She felt a bit odd stating it; it was so blatantly obvious.

"Or more.  They sure she's not like him?" Jack asked.

"Those at Nellis have absolutely no idea," Daniel stated.  "But either
way, it's clear that he trusted her."

"And no one knows where she is either," Jack surmised.

"Nope."

"But if she was dead, her body would have turned up by now, so she's
probably alive," Sam supposed.

"Unless she first became a vampire and *then* died," Jack corrected,
earning an odd look from both Carter and Daniel.

"Vampires turn to ash when killed," Teal'c explained.  "There is no body
left to be found."

"But their apartments were emptied out *after* he walked into Hill Air
Force Base," Sam reminded.  "So either she is alive and did that
herself, or--"

"Or someone else is involved," Daniel said.

"Or both," Sam added.  "Has he said anything about his past to you,
Daniel?"

"Ah, no," he quickly replied.  "I haven't exactly given him any good
opportunities, though.  I'd like to find all I can about him first,
anyway.  And it's frustrating that we can't simply ask him directly.  He
has to tell us; he has bring it up first."

"You should probably talk to Fraiser before you go prying, Daniel," Jack
suggested, then turned and started for the door.  "And don't be late for
breakfast--pancakes."

Teal'c nearly moved to follow, but with his eyes on the paused video,
which showed a plain headshot of Nick, similar to an ID photograph, he
asked, "Is it common for humans to present such widely different
personalities, Daniel Jackson?"

"I wouldn't say it's uncommon, but Nick isn't human, not quite.  Given
the combination of who he is and what he is, his resulting core
personality could be far different than a typical vampire, if his latest
job and earlier occupations are any indication.  But that's merely a
guess without meeting others like him, or asking if others are like him.
Besides that, since he's pretty much immortal, he has far more
opportunity to recreate, readjust his outlook on life, his opinions and
outward personality than we do."

"O'Neill believes you should be careful around him," Teal'c stated,
turning to more fully face Daniel.  "He has been watching you interact
with Dr. Parker."

"As have you, I'm sure."  Getting a nod, Daniel asked, "And what do you
think about him?"

"He asks far more questions than he answers, and he appears more at ease
with the former."

Daniel nodded; he had noticed that, too.

"I would very much like to speak with him."

"I'll mention again that he could use some practise on his Goa'uld--and
that you live here on base, and not too far away from his quarters,
although I already pointed out where your quarters were a couple of days
ago..."

"Does he know I am Jaffa?"

"He knows.  He asked, actually."

"Perhaps he is apprehensive."

"He might be," Daniel started, then added, "But it probably isn't
because you're an alien."

Seeing Teal'c's expression change ever so slightly, Sam explained, "He
probably expects your conversation to depend on past experiences,
specifically about who and what he is, which he--"

"Wants to avoid at all costs," Daniel finished.

Teal'c bowed slightly, then excused himself, "I will see you at
breakfast, Daniel Jackson, Major Carter."

As Teal'c left, Daniel asked Sam, "Could you somehow save those photos
from the news clip--that last video--and e-mail them to me?"

"Yeah, sure.  That shouldn't be any trouble."  Sam paused, watching
Daniel back the video clip up slightly, so that it was stopped on one of
the photographs.  "You're not going to--"

"No, I'm not going to ambush him with this," he quickly assured.  "But I
think I'll have Fraiser take a look at them.  Besides me, she's had the
most contact with him."  Daniel stood from the stool on which he had
been sitting.

"Have he and Colonel O'Neill met yet?" Sam tentatively asked.  "Not
counting the surveillance cameras, that is."

"Ah, Jack popped by once, but they didn't say anything to each other,
unless mutual looks of suspicion qualify as a conversation."

"You mean after a week they still haven't--"

"He knows Nick has behaved, well, quite normally.  Other than point out
he is anything but normal..."

"He's treading unusually carefully.  Not that I blame him," she added.
Nick's mood was capable of flipping like a switch, and it wasn't always
clear what caused it.  "I don't suppose you've seen anything that gives
an idea how much stronger and faster than us he might be?"

"Not unless you count rearranging his room in less than ten minutes,"
Daniel said, then explained, "His first night here, he moved all the
furniture.  The bed is now pushed over so one side is against the wall,
the short wall.  He moved the bookcase and desk from that side to the
corner closest to where the bed had been.  Made for a nice open spot in
the middle of the room--and no, according to Fraiser, he hasn't used it
for any kind of meditation practice.  He probably did it to emphasise
the room's size.  It's a good bit larger than his room at Nellis, but
his bed was against the wall there, too."

"And he had been there for five years, right?"

"Approaching five and a half, but yes," Daniel confirmed.  "Or that's
what it sounds like.  According to Nick, it had been thirteen or
fourteen months since he had spoken to or seen anyone in person.  He was
extremely isolated."

Sam nodded.  "Rearranging the room was probably to make things feel a
bit more normal."

"When everything else--including the colour of the walls--has changed."

"I don't suppose you can tell how he's doing?  He showed a lot of
interest in the naquada reactor I showed him yesterday but, other than a
few questions, he seems..."  Sam kind of winced a bit, then said,
"Quiet.  Too quiet."

Daniel simply nodded at that.  Yes, he had definitely noticed that.
Nick was all business and only asked questions if necessary.  Otherwise
he merely sat and worked--completely silently.  Daniel barely noticed
having him in his office.  And if anything, even though only about a
week had so far passed, Nick was becoming quieter by the day.  It was
one more reason he'd decided to try researching their guest a bit.



A Trial Run - (06/32)

A week later, Nick's routine hadn't changed much.  He went to the
infirmary at six in the morning, noon, and six in the evening.  He
worked or learned in some manner from roughly seven to nine in the
morning up to six, eight, ten, or even later, depending whether he felt
like being surrounded by books or not.  In the two weeks he had been
there, Dr. Jackson had been absent twice for off-days, and twice had
gone on some mission, once for less than a day, then the second time for
nearly three full days.  That meant Nick worked alone more often than
not--not that he and Dr. Jackson were working together in the sense of
working collaboratively.  Jackson examined his work and at times had him
redo sections he had done incorrectly, although even that was more
teaching and learning than truly collaborative.

Arriving at the infirmary for his noon appointment, he purposely avoided
looking at his guards, two of which waited outside in the hall, with a
third who followed and waited inside.  Typically the infirmary was
quiet, but today Dr. Fraiser was tending to another patient.  It
appeared the man had some kind of burn on his thigh and the wound was
being dressed.  Nick could smell blood and burnt, damaged flesh.
Walking toward it compulsively, he only stopped when the man winced in
pain. The doctor hadn't noticed his approach yet, her back facing him.
Silently, Nick back-tracked a few feet, where he sat on an empty gurney
to wait.  He had already taken off his over-shirt before coming.  She
watched him put it back on after injections and he knew it was taking
him more and more time to do so.  He also couldn't hide the
lightheadedness, not when shrugging the shirt back on often pushed him
off-balance.

Sitting and waiting, Nick watched the doctor tend to her patient, then
let his gaze roam the room.  Minutes passed before she turned, then she
came to an abrupt halt when her eyes met his.  She had not been paying
attention to the time; she'd been too absorbed in her work.

Glancing up at a clock to check the time, she apologised, "I'm sorry, I
had an emergency patient to tend to."

"May I ask what happened?" Nick quietly asked, nodding to the man in the
far bed.

"A staff weapon blast.  He is actually quite lucky.  He'll be
transferred to a nearby medical centre in a larger facility."  She
paused, then shifted her focus to preparing her next patient's
injection.  She was beginning to hate giving them.  It didn't matter
that Nick didn't protest in the slightest, beyond almost imperceptibly
pull back whenever she touched him.  Returning to where he sat waiting,
Fraiser found his arm held out in preparation.  He barely shifted while
she gave him the injection.  Then, surprisingly, he didn't leave right
away.  She had noticed he had been waiting longer and longer like this,
especially the last two or three days, but usually he at least
immediately hopped off the gurney before hesitating to leave.
"Now...since you're still here..." she said, moving so that he couldn't
get down from the gurney without pushing her out of the way.  "Tomorrow
morning I'd like to give you another full check-up."  While he didn't
verbally comment, his apprehension and general dislike for the idea came
through loud and clear.  "Nick?  Would that be all right?"

Nick snapped his eyes to her, but he still didn't answer right away.
Agreeing didn't appeal to him, but not wanting to argue, he said,
"Whatever.  That's fine."

Pleased, Fraiser now told him, "And I would also like to take a sample
of your blood."

"No," he replied, shifting easily to one side and slipping off the
gurney.  He started around the doctor toward the door, only to find his
arm snatched by one of her hot hands.  He had to close his eyes--others
who didn't know what he was were working too near.  His hunger spiked
with the injections, and touching warm skin with blood flowing, pulsing
beneath, only incited that hunger further.  With others nearby, however,
that also meant he couldn't pull away like he really wanted and needed
to.

"I wouldn't learn anything new about your physiology," she softly and
calmly said, but he kept trying to pull his arm gently but rather firmly
away from her.  "And as I said, I would *like* to take a blood sample;
it's only to more thoroughly ensure you are physically fine, and I
thought you'd rather I mention it first today than tomorrow.  If you
want, you can stay and watch me run the tests and see that I destroy the
sample after."  She paused, but by now he was once again avoiding her
gaze.  But at least he hadn't said 'no' again.  "Please think about it
and tell me in the morning.  All right?"

Nick didn't answer, instead turning his now ice-cold eyes toward hers.
"Release me now, Doctor."

"Not until you agree to at least consider allowing me to check more than
your superficial life signs."

Nick still hesitated.  Although he understood her reason to want a blood
sample, he felt so...off right now, and talking about blood in any way
wasn't helping.  But it was clear she wasn't going to release him
without an answer, so he forced out, "I'll consider it, but nothing
more."

Loosening her grip, Fraiser found his arm pulled quickly away, even
before she had fully released it.  She closed her eyes to help prevent
herself from turning around to watch him leave.  If he didn't like one
little thing someone said to him or near him, any friendliness vanished.
And he really didn't like her touching his skin; she had noticed this
before, suspected it, but when she had forcibly stopped him...  No, he
hadn't liked that at all.  Fraiser wished she knew whether it was her
comment about wanting to draw his blood or her action that bothered him
the most.

Finally turning toward the infirmary's entrance, she found Nick and his
security detail gone, and she relaxed.  Less than ten minutes later,
however, she spied Daniel rather cautiously entering the infirmary.

"Could I talk to you about something?" Daniel asked, stopping a few feet
from her.

"Some *thing*?  Or some *one*?" she asked, suspicious.

"How about something about someone."

"This is about Nick Parker, isn't it?"

Daniel nodded, shifting a folder he held in front of him.  He had
printed out the images Sam had e-mailed him.  "How has he been around
you?"

"Behaviour-wise?" Fraiser guessed, and getting another nod, she
immediately wondered, "Has he done something?  Been acting
inappropriately--"

"No, no, he's...  Frankly, he's barely noticeable.  I was only wondering
if he acted similarly here."

"Here?  Here I would say he is...complacent.  Quiet.  Very punctual.  He
doesn't complain, even though I think the sedatives are...  I think
something's wrong, but he's trying to hide it.  I can say that he's
definitely been staying here increasingly longer after his injections."
Fraiser paused a moment before adding, "And he becomes very
uncomfortable if I ask about it or for anything extra, especially if it
has to do with--"

"With what or who he is...or his past," Daniel guessed.

"Exactly.  Not long ago I told him I'd like him to consider allowing me
to take a blood sample.  He does not trust easily, and certainly not
me."

Daniel glanced down at the folder.  "Speaking of trust...he might not
trust anyone here, but I think he did trust someone in the past."  He
held out the folder.

Fraiser hesitated for a second before taking it and opening it to a
colour printout of a photograph taken in the evening at a park or other
open space.  A man, clearly recognisable as her presently most
frustrating patient, and a woman about his age of appearance, sat at a
picnic table next to each other, his arm wrapped behind her.  Neither
faced the camera, but it was clear the two smiling subjects were very
close friends.  She flipped the top page over and found three more
similar photos.  All had at least Nick and the woman from the first
scene, and in all of them they sat or stood closer than mere
acquaintances or co-workers.  "So this was his friend, then?  The one
who vanished when he did?" she guessed.

"Yep, Dr. Natalie Lambert."

Fraiser pulled the first image back, so that it was again on top.  Nick
looked so very comfortable and far more relaxed than she had ever seen
him.  "I think you're right that he probably trusted her."  She examined
it a bit longer, then closed the folder.  Seeing how very happy, very
content he had been, especially in that first photo, made her think some
part of him had somehow died.  Or someone had.  Regardless, she felt
nervous, uncomfortable seeing the photos, which she suspected Nick would
very much consider to be none of her business.  "You haven't shown these
to him, have you?"

"No, but I'd like to at least somehow ask him about her," he admitted.

"Daniel..."

"It's probably a bad idea, I know.  But finding those pictures raised
more questions than they answered."

Fraiser shook her head a little.  "I don't know, Daniel.  But if he
killed her--someone he trusted and cared for greatly, by the look of
it--that could explain how he ended up at Nellis, as well as his present
behaviour."

"But that's just the thing--I really don't think he did.  After doing
some research on him, after finding those, I tried to find out what
happened to her, and if she's dead, her body was never found."

"And if her body was dumped in the water or an isolated wooded area--or
buried there--that's not out of the realm of possibility.  It can
sometimes take years, or even decades to find them."  She paused, taking
in a deep breath.  "But considering he walked into a military base past
sunrise, very possibly delirious...  I would guess if he had killed her,
he would have left her there or, if he had dumped her body, he wouldn't
have been careful and it would have been found fairly quickly.  Since he
appears almost protective of her in the photos...that probably pushes it
more toward the first."

"That's why I wonder if she might still be alive.  She hasn't been
found.  At least not yet."

Fraiser didn't really have anything to counter his argument, beyond her
own hunch.  When it came down to it, she wasn't sure there was any way
to learn more about the situation, not unless Nick told them.  Even
then, it might not really explain what happened or where she was.

"Is there some way I could ask him what happened?"

"You mean ask him directly?" she asked in clarification, and getting a
nod, she shook her head.  "No, I don't think that would be advisable,
not even if we already knew what had happened, which we don't.  Nor
would showing him these be a good idea."  She held up the folder, then
paused in thought.  "If you say anything, it's probably best to bring it
up slowly...or better yet, somehow get him to initiate the conversation.
And you'll need permission from General Hammond if you want to try
deliberately pushing him into talking about his past.  Remember, his
past is supposed to be off limits; that would be another reason to get
him to initiate any discussion about either what happened to her--or her
in general."  Fraiser held out the folder, which was slowly taken back.
"And Daniel?  Do be careful, especially if you try talking to him about
this.  If he tries to walk away, let him.  Do not try to physically stop
him.  If you do and you're alone with him, I'd bet he'll react badly."

Daniel wondered a little about the warning, but he nodded.  "I'll be
careful; I know to be careful with him."  He gave her a quick smile
before leaving.

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

"Should I ask why we're meeting here?" Fraiser asked nearly a week later
in Carter's lab.

"We have a plan," Sam said.  "Actually, it was Teal'c's idea."

"And Teal'c is--where?"

"In my lab, talking to Nick--to help him practise speaking Goa'uld,"
Daniel answered, although it was also so no questions would be raised by
his absence.

"And this plan is...?"

"For Daniel not to lock his computer one day when he leaves his lab for
something," Sam explained.

"You see, Nick's been cut off from news events for the entire time he's
been held at Nellis, including the aftermath from
his--their--disappearance."

"So you're counting on his curiosity overriding his concern about being
watched.  And you want him to use the computer to try looking up his
past, in addition to getting a glimpse of present news.  It's a trap,
bait."

Sam almost winced, but she nodded.  "If he really wants to read about
current events, he can always steal or borrow a newspaper someone
brought in to read--he could have already done that.  But if he wants to
look up something specific...  If he does dig up his past, he gives us
an opening to talk to him about anything he searches for or finds.
Everything he does would be monitored remotely and recorded."

"Did you two run this by Hammond?"

"Yes, and he thinks it's a good idea," Daniel replied.  "He shouldn't
find anything he shouldn't, and if he does, Sam can send me back to my
lab or cut off his access.  General Hammond did say we needed your
permission and wants you to be on base whenever we do this, if we do."

Fraiser nodded.  That was probably a very good idea.  She had no idea
how Nick might react if he somehow discovered he'd been baited.
"Cassandra is going on a ski trip in a couple of weeks.  I figured I'd
stay here all that weekend to calm my nerves."

"So...Friday after this?" Daniel asked.

"Make it Thursday.  He might suspect something if he finds out you know
all about what he searched for after only an hour or two had passed, or
if it's the next day and it's a Saturday--or Sunday, for that matter."
Fraiser paused, glancing behind her at the still closed door.  "I take
it Teal'c's language lesson must be going all right?"

"After explaining to Nick a good dozen times their topic would
primarily, or at least at first, be confined to comparing Egyptian and
Goa'uld family trees, it should," he answered.  "And I told Teal'c to
avoid asking any questions or comments that didn't pertain to their
lesson, such as what he knows about Nick's people."

"And still no issues with him?"

"None at all.  I almost wish there were.  Maybe he'd actually talk about
something."

"Hmm, maybe in the next couple of weeks he will."

"Or he'll get himself sent back to Nellis," Daniel said with a glance
toward Sam.  "Or, I suppose, we will."

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

"You have been making excellent progress in our sessions, Dr. Parker,"
Teal'c said a week and a half later.  "Like Dr. Jackson, you have a gift
for learning languages."

Nick listened, but to be honest, he just wanted them to get to their
destination--Dr. Jackson's office.  It was still rather early in the
day, about eight in the morning, and Nick hoped Daniel would be there.
Arriving, he relaxed a little after seeing the other man at the
computer, checking his e-mail.  He quickly moved deeper into the room
and pulled out his work.  Teal'c, thankfully, stopped near his team
member.

Nick found the alien a bit odd--a bit too formal, mostly--but Teal'c
hadn't asked him any prying questions during the nearly half-dozen
meetings over the past week and a half.  He tried not to eavesdrop, but
it was difficult not to overhear.  Not that they were talking about
anything interesting or sensitive--just breakfast.  When they left, the
door swinging half-shut behind Jackson, it took Nick several minutes to
notice the computer hadn't been locked out.

For the next several minutes, Nick tried to ignore the unlocked screen
and focus on his own work, but he kept glancing up so that he repeatedly
had to start over at the exact same spot.

After yet another glance, he put down his pen and bowed his head in his
hands.  Over the past month, not once had Dr. Jackson left the room
without logging off of his computer.  The mortal had forgotten, become
lax...  He could go over and use it without having prying eyes right
over his shoulder...

Nick almost glanced up at the camera, but forced himself not to, which
might call attention from whoever might be watching the security feeds.
He *would* be seen, but he doubted he was watched 24/7, and he knew the
security camera couldn't see the computer's monitor.  He knew the
computer itself could possibly still be monitored, but it was still far
too tempting, especially since he knew Jackson wouldn't be back for
another fifteen to twenty minutes at the earliest.

His eyes locked on the screen again.  The computer automatically went to
its screen-saver--and locked itself--after fifteen minutes.  If he
wanted to use it, he had to do it now.

Slowly, not wanting to draw any extra attention to anyone who might be
watching him, Nick stood and went over to the computer and sat on the
stool.  He tried to act like he was supposed to be there, and he quickly
minimised Jackson's mail program and opened a search window.  Then,
however, he hesitated, not quite sure what he should do.

His eyes drifted over the various current news links displayed.  Then he
had an idea from that and typed "Toronto Sun" in the search box.  With
another click, he found himself with yet another search box, but
hesitated while the cursor blinked, waiting.  Still nervous, yet
figuring the damage had been done, Nick now typed in "Natalie Lambert".
He wanted to know what the local newspaper had reported.

Had they found her body in the Don River?  Or had LaCroix left her in
some alley and made her death look like a mugging gone wrong?  Maybe he
had taken her to her own apartment so that she would be surely found and
identified after she didn't show up for work.  Or he may have simply
left her in his own apartment so the authorities would assume he--now
missing--had murdered her.  Or maybe to save time.  LaCroix had followed
him almost immediately.  There hadn't been much time for a cover up, to
tie up the loose--very loose--ends he had left behind.

The results that popped up were not at all what he expected.  The oldest
article was titled 'Metro Detective and Medical Examiner Missing'.  The
other titles were roughly along those lines, and he clicked the earliest
published article first.  He felt ill upon seeing the image accompanying
the start of the article--his favourite picture of Natalie and himself,
together, at one of the precinct picnics.  He quickly scrolled down,
focusing on the text.  It didn't tell him anything.

Next, Nick went to the most recent article, dated over a year after the
first.  All that one told him was that they were still missing, and that
there were still no leads.  Apparently LaCroix had chosen the river--or
the lake.  Knowing his sire's views on appropriate funerals, Nick
wondered if he'd had her cremated.  That would certainly explain why her
body hadn't been found.

He had hoped for some vague closure from looking up the aftermath, but
all he saw was Natalie's teasing smile from the first photo.  Nick
closed that window, hoping doing so would weaken his thoughts and his
awakened memories.  It didn't.

Opening another window, he stared once again at the blinking cursor.
That Natalie's body had never been found did pique his curiosity.  She
should have been found by now.  LaCroix had followed him almost
immediately; he couldn't have done much to cover up what he had
done--his screw-up.  Even his idea that she had possibly been cremated
was unlikely.  Not enough time for LaCroix to do it himself, and too
dangerous to involve a third party.  Probably not enough time for that,
either.

Maybe, just maybe, Natalie had somehow survived.  While unlikely, if she
had, if she knew he had been imprisoned, she'd make sure he could find
her.  Knowing her, she'd have stuck with her original profession, or
something closely related.  She'd be a doctor at a hospital or possibly
a teacher, a university professor.

It took Nick a few nervous minutes before he found a way to search
university faculty, but he came up blank.  No Natalie Lambert, Natalie
Knight, Natasha Knight, Natalia Lambert, nor did she use his original
surname, de Brabant, nor a couple other aliases he had used that she
knew about, including his current one.  He had tried a good two dozen or
more combinations, but came up empty.  He paused, even typed in "Natalie
LaCroix," but deleted it without searching it.  For one, it didn't sound
right.  For another, she would never use his sire's name.

After a short pause, Nick however did try "Lucien LaCroix," but got no
results.  He hadn't really expected any, not from this last search, but
teaching was one of the few professions he could see LaCroix actually
doing, rather than merely use as a pretence.  His sire would thoroughly
enjoy having such a captive and willing audience.

His momentary hope dashed, Nick backed up to the start page, then pulled
up a basic news page.  The news headlines seemed somehow worse than he
remembered.  He saw several articles related to general political
unrest.  Something about China.  A missing college student in Florida.
It all looked bad.

Nick almost went into one of the more benign-looking articles, but he
could hear a now familiar voice in the hall--Dr. Jackson.  He was
talking to the man, Colonel O'Neill, who headed their team.  Breakfast
must be over.  Nick quickly closed the web browser, then pulled up the
e-mail program again.  After freezing for a moment in panic, he locked
the computer out manually.  Jackson hadn't tried nor had any reason to
keep this key combination from him; he had seen it typed in dozens of
times.

As quickly as he could manage without making any noise, Nick returned to
where he had been working.  The voices were now nearly audible to normal
senses by the time he picked his pen back up.  A moment later, the door
reopened and someone entered.  He didn't glance up; he already knew it
was Dr. Jackson and he was alone.

"Nick?  You have any questions about that?  I have to go to a meeting--"

"No, no questions.  And don't want you to miss your meeting," he said,
trying to keep his focus on his project.  In moments Dr. Jackson left
and Nick faintly wished he hadn't locked out the computer.  He might
have seen the lock command many times, but never the password to unlock
it.  The mortal had been far more careful to avoid letting him see that.

Nick tried to work, but could no longer even momentarily focus on the
symbols before him.  The article heading about the missing young woman
made his thoughts think of that first article he had pulled up about him
and Natalie being missing.  No matter how hard he tried to focus on his
work, the image of her smiling face refused to fade.

He had killed her sense of joy long before he had physically killed her.
He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her smile, genuinely
smile, let alone when they had both smiled like that at the same
time--really smiled like in the photograph, not only to appease each
other.

Nick dropped the pen again and bowed his head, shutting his eyes.  The
action merely made the memory clearer.  It had taken him months after
his imprisonment to stop being continuously haunted by her face and
voice, but the Natalie who had taunted him then was a frustrated, angry
Natalie who he had last seen lying serenely, dead on the floor of his
loft.  But now all he saw was her teasing smile; she had probably
playfully hit or shoved him right before the picture was taken, or she
had done so not long after.  Then he had ruined everything--as usual.

At least he couldn't make things any worse here.  Even if they caught on
about his unauthorised computer use, the most that would happen would be
to send him back to his cell at Area 51.  It was what he truly deserved,
anyway--eternal imprisonment.

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

"I see we are five, instead of our usual four this morning," Jack said,
sitting down in the cafeteria with a tray for breakfast.  "Please tell
me you're not here to discuss Daniel's...project."

"Sorry, but no such luck, Colonel," Fraiser told him.

"Does that mean he said something to you this morning?" Jack asked.  He
knew Parker had taken the bait Daniel and Carter had set for him, but
not much else.

Fraiser saw Daniel's curiosity pique at the possibility.  "Ah, no, not a
word.  He wouldn't even look at me this morning."

"And he didn't say anything to Daniel yesterday," Sam added.

"Mid-afternoon he left and didn't return.  He didn't take anything with
him, either, which is unusual."

"Do you think he'll be in your lab when we're done here?" Sam asked.

"He already is," Jack said and ate a spoonful of his cereal.  Seeing
Sam's incredulous look, he shrugged.  "I checked with Security.  He went
straight there from the infirmary this morning."

"Then, Daniel, you need to make sure you don't make any accusations
about his unauthorised use of your computer," Fraiser reminded him.
"Not yet."

"I know, wait for him to bring it up.  But if he doesn't--"

"He will," Fraiser firmly stated.  "According to Sam, he used two
aliases in his search that weren't in his file, plus he searched for
someone else, another name not in the file."

"So?" Jack asked.

"Sir, he'll want to know if we know what--and who--he searched for.  I
looked up the other name, and I'm almost positive that man is also
a--he's like Parker," Sam said, barely catching herself before saying
'vampire'.  "And if I were him, I'd want to know if anyone knew what I
had searched for, especially if my actions could potentially jeopardise
the life of that person."

"And will it?" Daniel asked.

Fraiser shook her head.  "No.  Anything we learn is not to be discussed
beyond ourselves and General Hammond.  I've already expressed my
concerns about his past treatment and the distrust he has of, well,
everyone, and Hammond thinks if he trusts us a little better, he'll be
less likely to cause any issues here on the base, which would probably
get him sent back."  She paused, then added, "So unless something he
says or does suggests harm to himself or others, Hammond doesn't plan to
pass along any information we may learn."

"So if he does ask me--"

"Tell him exactly what I just told you," Fraiser said with a nod.

Jack stopped eating his cereal.  "Are we really sure we want him to
stay?  For that matter, does he even really want to stay?"

Defensively, Fraiser answered, "Regardless of what he is, he is an asset
to the SGC, and probably more-so here than he would be back at Nellis,
even if he was fully integrated in with the other researchers there.
And if he has no desire to stay...I don't think he'd still be here."

"But he's--you know," Jack said, waving his empty spoon at the last.
"He's not...normal."

"And any of us are?" Sam asked.

"He's not human."

"Nor am I," Teal'c noted with just a hint of disapproval in his voice.

Not having much luck, Jack leaned back in his seat.  "There's still
something about him that I just don't like--and it's not just what he
is.  And I don't like the way he...stares."

"Maybe if you would actually try talking to him, Jack, he might--"

"And what exactly am I supposed to talk to him about, Daniel?  He
doesn't seem like the type to...fish," he said, but knew that was a weak
excuse.  When it came down to it, anything they might have in common
would be the very things that were off-limits.

"Just...when you drop by, you could try asking him something about what
he's working on," Daniel suggested.

Jack didn't reply.  He simply waited while the others finished eating
breakfast in what was now an awkward silence.

"Daniel, I'd like you to meet me in the infirmary when you're done,"
Fraiser said, then after getting an acknowledgement, she excused
herself.

"So, Carter," Jack slowly started, "he did search for his friend?"

"With varying combinations of about nine last names and three or four
first names."

"He do the same with the other person?"

"Ah, no, he only searched once for the other man.  He also almost tried
his friend's first name with the man's last, though."

"Which means she knows or knew of this other man," Daniel realised.  It
also helped confirm his suspicion that she probably knew what Nick
was--she knew that vampires existed and that her friend was one.

"Yep.  He could be the other person involved in their disappearance,"
Sam said.

"Or his friend's death," Teal'c added.

"Yes, or her death."

Jack paused a few seconds before asking Sam, "And you're sure this guy
is...one of them?"

"Fairly.  I only had one hit, but it's definitely who Parker was
searching for."  Sam paused with an uncomfortable not-quite-smile.
Despite having only the one match, it had been almost too easy to
determine it was the right individual.  "It looks like the man, Lucien
LaCroix, very possibly left Toronto the same night Nick and his friend
vanished.  Or close to it."

"And you found that out...how?"

"Because a few weeks before they disappeared, Parker--then known as
Detective Knight--and his partner arrested LaCroix after finding him in
possession of an Egyptian grave-robber's decapitated head.  He was
eventually cleared of all charges and released, but he made the
news...as did the information that he owned a nightclub, which was where
the body and head were found, and that he also had another job as
sort-of a DJ for some weird radio talk show."

"I thought you said Parker had searched a database of university
faculty."

"He did."

"For a DJ and, what, bar owner?"

"Who has fans of the stalker-ish variety," Sam said.  "Several of the
talk show parts of his broadcasts were recorded and put online.  I
listened to a few after I went home last night and...they're a bit
creepy and twisted, to say the least, and some things make far more
sense if you take into account that he's not--"  She shook her head,
then finished, "But he seems to have an affinity for literature,
especially Shakespeare.  He would probably make a rather captivating
professor of classical literature."

"So Parker definitely knew this guy, then?"

"It would appear that way, yes," Sam confirmed.

"And you think he's definitely a...vampire?" Daniel asked, whispering
the last word.  Seeing Sam become rather exasperated, he added, "Just
making sure, in case he says anything," and then ate the last couple
bites of his breakfast after she gave him a nod.

"Why does some of this sound familiar?" Jack vaguely asked.  "The thing
about an Egyptian grave robber being found in Toronto, I mean."

"Because..."  Daniel thought, putting his spoon down, knowing there was
something...  It sounded like he had heard about it on the news.  Or
read about it somewhere.  He wasn't even on Earth when it would have
happened, though, but when he came back...

The fuzzy memory finally resolved into full clarity.  "Because after
Apophis came through our gate and the Stargate Program was effectively
started up in its present form, several questionable occurrences on
Earth were re-investigated, and this was one of the first.  I think SG-6
was sent to investigate the tomb."

"What was questionable about it?" Sam asked.  She didn't remember
anything about the situation.

"Ah, the dead, ripped to shreds, grave-robbers--exactly like the one
that turned up in Toronto.  They have no idea how that happened, since
the man was found half a world away less than a day after he died,
leaving behind an empty sarcophagus with a cracked seal.  The rest of
the tomb was intact.  I remember looking at pictures and video SG-6
brought back.  No Goa'uld artefacts or symbols.  It was ruled as not
significant as far as the Stargate Program was concerned."

"Could there be any connection between this LaCroix and that tomb?" Jack
asked.  "Or Parker for that matter."

"There's probably no way to tell, short of him telling us
something...and I don't intend to ask him anything about that," Daniel
said.  He would, however, perhaps have to find those photos from SG-6
sometime and re-examine them.  Certainly not today, though.  He'd have
to find out how and where they had been filed.

Breakfast had essentially ended then, and the four scattered.  Jack and
Teal'c went with Sam to her lab.  Teal'c wanted to see what Sam had
found on the man Nick had searched for, and even Jack thought that
sounded interesting.  Daniel had, too, but reluctantly he headed to the
infirmary to see what Janet wanted to talk to him about.  Then, at
10:00, SG-1 had a meeting in the briefing room.

What Fraiser wanted to tell him, to show him, was video from Nick's room
the previous afternoon and night.  The vampire didn't appear to have
slept at all.  She had wanted to give him a heads-up since none of them
knew how their guest's behaviour might change from lack of sleep.
Vampires supposedly needed less sleep than regular humans, but he'd only
been getting about five hours of sleep a night anyway, and Fraiser
reminded him that sleeping at night wasn't normal for vampires.  If Nick
*had* gotten any sleep that night, it was clear that it hadn't been
much.  He had probably gotten more rest simply lying there the previous
afternoon than that night.  According to her, he had also had what
appeared to be several nightmares, then had paced for nearly an hour
that morning before coming for his injection.

Hammond had also been there, and pretty much re-stated what Daniel
already knew--anything Nick said wasn't to be passed on to Nellis unless
Hammond himself or Fraiser deemed it necessary for security or safety
reasons.  Daniel felt a bit better hearing it directly from the General,
but still wasn't used to the informality or lack of records when it came
to Parker.  He constantly felt like he was going behind everyone's
backs--first his team, and now Hammond and Nick, even though the former
was kept updated regularly.

Finally getting to his lab, Daniel apologised to Nick, "Sorry I'm late.
General Hammond wanted to talk to me about something."  It was more or
less a lie, even though he had in fact spoken with Hammond, but it had
been Sam who had told their superior what Nick had done while on his
computer.  His unscheduled visit with Fraiser was actually not only to
give him a heads-up, but also make it appear he was getting a talk about
Nick's transgression--and make it convincing.

Daniel kept his attention on the other man just long enough to give him
a chance to comment.  Nick didn't reply, but he did seem more tense than
usual.  Daniel went ahead and got a couple of things together for the
briefing at 10:00 so he wouldn't need to right before leaving.  He did
this slowly, still hoping Nick might say something, but the next time he
glanced toward him, he had returned to his work.  Nick remained that way
for the next half hour before Daniel left, quickly informing his quiet
colleague where he was going and approximately when he might get back.

Nick played along and acknowledged the other man leaving.  Then when the
door mercifully shut, he stopped pretending to work.  Not that he hadn't
been trying; it just wasn't working with his thoughts as scattered as
they were.

Dr. Jackson's reason for being late had him doubly distracted.  Had the
discussion been about him?  Specifically because he had used Jackson's
computer unsupervised?  He knew the camera in the office couldn't see
the screen, but that didn't mean someone there couldn't look up where he
went, possibly even see everything he had seen or done.

To be honest, Nick expected to receive a talk of his own, and was a bit
surprised he hadn't gotten one yet.  It had been a bit more than a day.
Surely by now they had to know everything there was to know.  He almost
regretted what he had done--almost.  Natalie's smiling face outweighed
his renewed hatred for himself and what he had done to her, but only
while he remained awake.  Eyes closed and unconscious, he repeatedly
relived that fateful morning, not only Natalie's death, but his
partner's.  He vividly recalled just how emotionally drained both of
them had been, how much they both wanted something to change, their
lives to go forward rather than stagnate.

He was, however, rather apprehensive regarding the computer searches.
While he knew they had already guessed quite a bit about him, he didn't
think they had yet pinpointed his real name.  It had never come up when
he had been questioned, prompted, and taunted.  He also had no idea what
they would make of his last search.  He wasn't sure he really cared.  If
LaCroix had simply done as he'd requested, as his sire had supposedly
agreed, he wouldn't be here.  He actually rather liked the idea of his
master confined--not that it would happen.  LaCroix would never allow
himself to be captured like that, as he himself had.  No, he would
either free himself, or be killed in the attempt, and undoubtedly kill
as many others as possible in the process.

Nick sat there, pretty much staring at the wall, until Daniel returned a
little less than an hour later.  This had forced him back to trying to
work, but Dr. Jackson kept glancing over at him more often than usual
today.  When they each checked to see what the other was doing at the
same time, their eyes meeting, Nick looked sharply down when Daniel
turned to face him, leaning against the counter.

"If you're having trouble focusing--"

"Why not just go ahead and ask whatever you want to ask?" Nick
interrupted, sitting up straighter, his hands resting on the edge of the
table in the middle of the room.

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know.  Your talk this morning--it was about me, wasn't it?"

Daniel hesitated a bit too long and didn't get to answer beyond starting
to part his lips.

"I think you know exactly why I'm 'having trouble focusing', Dr.
Jackson."  Nick paused for a couple of seconds before rephrasing
slightly, getting more specific, "I think you know what I did yesterday
morning, don't you?"

"You used my computer," he carefully replied, trying not to sound the
least bit accusing.  "And I've told you before that you can call me
Daniel."

Nick ignored the second comment, instead asking, "And do you know what I
used it for?"

"You did some online searches."

"For...?"

Daniel glanced down a moment, uncomfortable at being questioned, but he
remembered Teal'c's comment that Nick was far more comfortable asking
questions than answering them, at which he slowly said, "For someone you
knew when you lived in Toronto."  When the other man neither reacted in
the faintest to his answer, nor gave another prompt, another question,
he asked one of his own, "The two of you were close, weren't you?"

"Were," Nick emphasised, pausing before confirming, "Yes."

"You know...Sam and I could see about finding her--"

"No."

"--or finding out what happened to her--"

"I know what happened to her."

"Really?" Daniel asked, showing surprise.  "From what I can tell, it
sounds like she's missing."

"And?  So am I, apparently.  I don't think it means much."

"But it seems like you want to know what happened to her."

Nick studied Daniel for several seconds, probably close to a minute,
trying to decide whether he should answer or ignore the comment.  Not
wanting Jackson or any of the other members of his team to waste their
time on him, he stated, "She's dead.  That's what happened to her."

"Then why did you search for her in a university faculty database?"

Nick looked away; he still didn't quite know the answer to that himself.
"Possibly due to a foolish emotion, a foolish concept called hope."

"What about the other person you searched for--the man?"

"An afterthought."

"If you would like--"

"No," Nick quietly said.  "Don't search for him."

"Then I take it he's not dead."

"It's unlikely.  Unfortunately."

"Why unfortunately?"

Nick stiffened, not wanting to go into his sometimes smooth and more
often tense relationship, or the fact that it had been LaCroix who had
made him into a vampire in the first place.  He couldn't answer without
revealing that.

"If you don't want to answer--"

"I don't."

"--that's fine, but it might actually help to talk about--"

"You mean help you find out more about me so you can pass it on and add
it to the information on me," Nick accused.  "No thanks."

"Nothing you tell me, the other members of my team, or Fraiser would be
passed on beyond General Hammond, unless absolutely necessary."

"In case you haven't noticed, there are cameras watching us."

"Cameras, yes, but no microphones, so no audio."

"Which doesn't mean much.  I'm sure Major Newell and his superiors would
grant security clearance to a lip-reader--assuming they haven't
already."

"And the tapes are not being archived or sent back to Nellis," Daniel
countered.  "So unless you somehow...simultaneously attempt to harm
someone or yourself while you reveal some bit of personal information,
whatever you say will not be passed on."

Feeling uncomfortable with the examples and unsure whether Jackson was
trying to reassure him or pressure him, Nick pushed back from where he'd
been working and stood, not bothering to put away his work.  This
conversation was over, one way or another, and he started for the door.
Passing Dr. Jackson, he found himself nearly halted with a hand.

Daniel pulled back his arm when Nick glared at him, the vampire's eyes a
yellow-gold, but his action appeared to make him stop or at least pause.
"You don't have to shut yourself in your quarters, you know.  If you
don't want to talk about something, all you have to do is say so.  And
there are people here you can trust."

Nick left the room once Jackson finished talking.  He had to pause once
in the hall because one of his security detail had been startled and had
started to raise one of the alien weapons--they had done it before when
he had left a room too quickly, which he had certainly done now.  Once
the man relaxed, Nick headed slowly toward his quarters, his mind
focused solely on getting there.  He had a good hour before he needed to
be in the infirmary, otherwise he would have gone straight there and
gotten that over with.

Reaching his room, he roughly ran his card and pushed the door open,
entered, and shut the door behind him.  However much he wanted to
believe there were people here he could trust, he knew that trust and
his sometimes desperate desire to keep that trust could be used against
him.  It had happened so many times before, even by those he'd
considered friends.  Even Natalie had used it against--

At that thought, Nick began to pace.  True, she had used her knowledge
of him, of what he was and what he could do to her advantage, but so had
others.  While Natalie had in some ways used their friendship, she had
admitted when she had been wrong and they had always patched things back
up.  And when it came down to it, he had also used their friendship at
times, although that arrangement predated the time they had actually
become friends.

What Nick didn't understand was why Dr. Jackson and those he worked with
appeared to trust him.  True, the leader of Jackson's team, Colonel
O'Neill, didn't seem as trusting as the others, but he had still been
less hostile than even the friendliest of his security detail.  Others
that he had trusted had known his secret, his quest...  While he
couldn't be certain, he felt relatively certain Jackson and the others
didn't know about that, his quest for a cure.  If they knew, they'd
probably pity him, which would be unbearable.  He'd caught enough hints
of that from Dr. Fraiser.  He didn't think the doctor particularly liked
giving him his injections, which she did most days, two or three times
at least of the four.  Worse, she reminded him a little too much of
Natalie.

Thinking about that, Nick now dreaded going to the infirmary, and he
subconsciously paced more quickly back and forth.  It didn't make him
feel even slightly better, however, and he stopped pacing completely.

Why had he tried searching for Natalie?  He already knew what had
happened to her; after all, he had killed her himself.  He had knelt
next to her lifeless body for a couple of minutes before LaCroix had
found him, found *them*.  Natalie was dead.  She had to be.  But he knew
why he had looked anyway--there were no news articles about her body
being found, nothing about a murder.  And LaCroix had followed him out
of Toronto that morning.

According to the article, when neither of them had shown up to work that
night, Reese had quickly set things in motion.  After all, his partner
Tracy had died after he had gone home.  Natalie had been the one to tell
him of her death.  Surely Internal Affairs would have wanted to question
him, even though they would have almost surely ruled it as Tracy's
fault.  But then they'd probably make him talk to the department
psychologist about it, make sure he was fit for duty.  And Natalie's
body hadn't been found at his place, nor had either of them been found
at hers.  Reese would have checked there, too, he was certain.

Not that he had really expected Natalie to be found at either of their
homes.  When he had woken, her body had already been moved.  By LaCroix.
His sire had been nearby when he had woken, and wouldn't have had much
time to do anything, whatever that may have been.  He didn't think he
had been unconscious long, maybe five, ten minutes.  Fifteen at the
most.  He had fully expected to read in the articles that her body had
been found.

Now all his mind had were doubts, rather than the closure he desperately
sought.  And, to be honest, on the off-chance she still lived, he had no
idea where to search for her.  Not really.  They had never talked about
what they would do if he actually managed to not kill her and brought
her across as she had wanted, and at the time, neither of them had
exactly been thinking much beyond the present.  They would have likely
quit their jobs and left Toronto.  He would have had to leave anyway,
because he wasn't ageing like his persona should have been.  His time
had been up in that life, long up.  It had probably been partially
behind Natalie's request to do something to move their relationship
forward.  She knew he'd have to leave soon, and that he'd try leaving
without her if he could.  In his grief, he had stupidly let her convince
him to try bringing her across, something he had refused her more than
once before, something he knew would likely bring her death.  She had
known that, but still she had been willing.  And he hadn't had the will
to refuse.

And now he knew...nothing.  Absolutely *nothing*.

He hadn't managed any real work at all since he had used Dr. Jackson's
computer.  He couldn't even really recall what he'd been working on,
other than the basics, which boiled down to what language it was and
where the text had been found.  More specifically, he could recall that
the text had been on a wall in some ruins, but not what planet on which
it had been found.  Or even if he had that information for his current
project.  Could it have been a moon?

Nick glanced at his alarm clock; he had a good hour.  Still.  He walked
toward it where it sat on the nightstand next to the bed, but instead of
sitting on the bed, he sat on the hard floor and leaned his back against
the mattress.  If he sat on the bed, he'd lie down and very likely fall
asleep...for all of five minutes before his past returned and woke him.
He might try to get some sleep after his appointment...and before the
next.  He wanted to be fully in control around Dr. Fraiser.  She would
question him out of concern.

An hour later, however, Nick's uncomfortableness showed even when--or
possibly because--he kept his gaze away from the doctor.

"How are you doing, Nick?" Fraiser asked her patient, who sat staring
blankly toward the exit to the infirmary.

"Why?" Nick asked, not turning to her until he asked, "Did Dr. Jackson
put you up to asking?"

Fraiser tensed a bit.  Daniel *had* come by a little more than an hour
before, but he hadn't asked her to do or ask anything.  "Dr. Jackson
hasn't put me up to anything, but he is concerned about your well-being.
So am I."

"I'm fine," Nick automatically and almost sarcastically assured her.

"I think I'll determine whether you are 'fine' or not, Nick."

"Just do your job so I can leave," he told her and again looked away.

Fraiser took in a deep breath, but held back any reply and reluctantly
gave him his injection.  She had barely removed the needle before he got
down from the gurney and started toward the exit.  He only made it about
two steps, however, before nearly collapsing.  She instinctively
steadied his one arm, even while he caught himself with the other.
"Easy.  Now you see why I'd prefer if you'd wait a--"

Nick pulled the gloved--yet so very warm--hand from his bare arm more
roughly than necessary, shoving it away and continuing more steadily
toward the door.  He didn't slow or glance back, even when she said his
name loud enough for anyone in the vicinity to hear.  He both wanted and
needed to be alone.



A Trial Run - (07/32)

"Are you all right?" Sam asked late that night when she saw Fraiser rub
her wrist for the third time in less than an hour while they watched the
security monitor for Nick's room.

"I'm fine," Fraiser assured.  "It just got stretched a little too far
earlier."

"By *him*," Sam said, nodding to the security monitor; on it Nick lay
sleeping in his room.  "Half a day ago."

"Yes, and our next two meetings didn't go any better, which didn't let
it settle."  Seeing Sam was about to protest, she added, "The last time
he saw me react a bit.  Neither of us had said anything about it, but I
think he realised he hurt me, and I don't think he was even slightly
proud of it.  He didn't mean to--that much was obvious--but he just
hasn't had much physical contact with others in a long time.  It's
possible he's forgotten how to interact with us.  Or it could even be a
side effect of the injections, throwing his judgement off a bit."

"Did he apologise?" Sam continued.

"No, but I didn't exactly tell him how or when I was hurt, nor do I have
any outward signs of an injury.  He let go the instant--and I mean the
instant--he realised he was causing me pain.  And earlier today, I
seriously doubt he had finished pushing me away; he had the sense to
know to stop and do so.  Like I said, I'm positive he didn't intend to
harm me."

"But he is stronger than, say, I am?" Daniel asked from next to Fraiser.
After all, he and Nick appeared to be roughly the same height and
general build.  If anything, the other man appeared the less strong of
the two of them.

Fraiser nodded.  "Yes, he is.  He most definitely is.  How much, I
couldn't say, since as far as I can tell, he deliberately holds that
extra strength back.  His reflexes are quite a bit faster than ours,
too."  She paused, shaking her head ever so slightly.  "But like any of
us, he still has to process visual and auditory information before he
can react, and I'm not sure he's much, if any, faster at that than an
ordinary human.  I had also been very careful to avoid alerting him that
I was in pain, and besides, he had no time to apologise.  Between his
injection and getting pretty much no sleep last night, he was out before
I left the room."

"But you'll be careful, right, Janet?"

"I was being careful.  I thought he was going to pass out and wanted to
steady his fall.  And if it happens again, I'm sure I'll do the exact
same thing."

Sam didn't say anything more about the injury.  What bothered her the
most was that she had tried to keep her and Daniel from knowing what had
happened.  "I'm going to head home.  See you in the morning."

Once the door had shut after Sam, Fraiser asked Daniel, "I take it
you're staying here, right?"  Getting a nod, she added, "Out of concern
for me or--"

"I'm the one who wanted him to talk about what happened to him and his
friend.  If he's having nightmares from it, in a way it's my fault, and
since it's Saturday...I'd like to see if he fares better...or worse...on
his own."

"Hmm, so more concern for him than me, huh?" Fraiser asked a little
teasingly.  To be honest she wasn't surprised, nor did she mind.

"Sorry, but--"

"He's probably worse off than me.  I know."  She took in a deep breath.
"You know, Daniel, this could be either very boring or very unnerving,
depending on whether he continues to sleep or has recurrent nightmares."

Daniel nodded toward Sam's computer screen.  She had set it up so that
they no longer had to be in the security room itself, which would have
drawn extra attention.  Her lab was also a bit closer to quarters, and
only one of the security officers in the monitoring room knew what Nick
was.  "So far, he's been sleeping."

"For not quite an hour.  If tonight is anything like last night, he'll
sleep less soundly as the morning progresses.  So if you want to get
some sleep yourself, you might want to do that now."

"No need, I'll be fine," Daniel said and leaned back in his chair.  In
half an hour, however, he had dozed off.

After another half an hour or so, Fraiser watched Nick wake with a start
for the first time that night from a dream or nightmare.  She didn't
wake Daniel, not even when she saw Nick go still, likely because he fell
back to sleep.  It didn't last long, and after he woke from another
nightmare, he stared up at the ceiling for some time before he
presumably passed out from exhaustion--over an hour later.

She had almost relaxed, thinking he was finally getting some proper
sleep, then she realised he was dreaming again.  He didn't wake up after
a few minutes as he had the other times, even when it became clear his
dream had become a nightmare.

He returned to sleeping only somewhat unsoundly for a few minutes, then
began to cycle back and forth between clearly upsetting dreams and more
bearable ones.  Fraiser hoped he'd wake, but he didn't.  The comforter
and sheet ended up rumpled at the foot of the bed, and Nick turned on
his side with his back up against the wall, hands crossed in defence
above his heart, palms out, and his body curled up.

When her patient again drifted into a nightmare, Fraiser checked the
clock.  Fifteen minutes later, the only thing that had changed was that
he appeared to be talking to himself or someone from his nightmare.  She
let a few more minutes pass before she woke Daniel with his name and a
hand on his shoulder.

Daniel woke with a start, and it took him a moment to realise where he
was and why.  "How long was I asleep?"

"Three, three and a half hours."

Daniel rubbed his eyes.  "You should have said something," he said
tiredly.

"I know, but it looked like you could use the rest."  She paused,
nodding to the monitor.  "I'm going to check on him, see if I can wake
him up.  He's been stuck in some recurring nightmare for most of the
night, and in the current one for the last twenty minutes at least."

"Ah, I could--"

"No, no, I want you right here.  He'll probably wake the moment I open
his door."

Leaving Sam's lab, it didn't take her long to reach Nick's quarters,
which were off in a dead-end.  It took her a moment to be allowed to
approach the door, and after knocking twice and calling his name with no
answer, she entered with her key card and flipped on the light.

Nick didn't wake, but continued mumbling unintelligibly--or at least
from where she stood by the door, his words were too soft to make out.
She tried to shut the door behind her, but one of his security detail
stopped her.  The man then reluctantly resumed his spot along the side
of the wall in the hall.

Carefully approaching, Fraiser found that she still couldn't understand
most of what the vampire was saying.  She believed his muttered words
were in French, if she guessed right.  She did understand one word that
he had now said several times--Non.  Maybe it would have been better
after all if Daniel had gone to wake him instead of her.

She tried calling his name several times before she sat on the edge of
the bed, still an arm's length away from where he lay.  If anything, her
approach had worsened his nightmare.  She called his name louder and
more formally, "Nicholas?" while reaching forward to touch his arm.  He
didn't react, beyond rolling back a little, and his expression contorted
almost as if he were in pain.  She tried again, gripping his arm and
shaking it slightly while very firmly telling him, "Nicholas, you need
to wake up--"

Nick's eyes opened at the second, far more firm sound of his name and
the command, but still wasn't fully awake.  All he knew was that someone
had a firm hold of his arm.  His thoughts still reeled from his dream of
the argument, the near fight with LaCroix.  He sat up and hissed at
whoever had hold of him, his eyes yellow as he bared his fangs in anger
and fear.

Fraiser let go of Nick's arm to back away, but was too late.  He grabbed
her roughly, and next thing she knew he had her back to the wall, giving
her an alarmingly close view of his deadly fangs.  "Nick, it's all
right," she tried to calmly assure him, but even she could hear the fear
in her voice.  "It's me, it's Dr. Fraiser.  You were having a bad dream,
a nightmare.  It's all right now."

Focusing on her voice and words, Nick closed his eyes, willing the
images to go away, while his eyes and teeth returned to normal.  He felt
like throttling LaCroix for some reason, even killing him, but that
wasn't who he had hold of.  He loosened his grip on the mortal's
shoulders, bowed his head, and whispered, "I'm sorry, I thought..." Nick
stopped mid-sentence.  She wouldn't understand, not without a long
explanation, and he repeated, "I'm sorry."

Fraiser could barely hear his words, but to her they seemed quite
sincere.  She was about to ask if he felt all right when she froze.  At
least one of the guards had entered...and had his sidearm held directly
at Nick's head.  She could feel the vampire's grip on her shoulders
tighten again when the barrel pressed firmly against his skull.

"Release her.  Now," the man demanded, but Nick didn't comply right
away.  The man then nodded to another guard.  The second soldier pulled
on Nick's upper arm, rolling him onto his back.  Then he reached for Dr.
Fraiser, pulling her free and half-dragging her back.

Fraiser was still gaining her footing when Nick was pushed back onto his
side so that he was facing the wall.  He abruptly became overly
compliant, not moving at all unless his guards repositioned him.  What
happened next, she wasn't quite prepared for.  Without any warning, the
man who had pulled her free Zatted Nick three times in a row.  Then his
colleague moved forward and injected something into his neck.  It was
very similar to what she had seen at Nellis that first time she saw the
vampire.  "What did you do?!  What did you give him?!  Tell me, now!"

"He lost control, so we had to sedate him.  We should move him to
isolation and restrain him."

"He did *not* lose control!  He was disoriented from just waking up
after a bad dream.  He was confused and didn't recognise me right
away--that's all!" she said, moving forward, pushing past the two, then
sitting on the bed next to Nick.  "Haven't you ever woken from an
intense dream like that?"

Rather than answering, the first man warned, "You shouldn't do that,"
when Fraiser reached for Nick's shoulder.  "It can take a few minutes to
work."

Not heeding the warning, Fraiser rolled Nick back onto his back.  He
looked terrified, and weakly pushed at her hands.  In addition to having
trouble moving, he seemed unable to breathe.  This was no ordinary
sedative.

She could feel him trying to roll back onto his side, but he wasn't
capable of it, even after she released his arms.  When she touched his
face and he didn't move anything other than his frightened eyes, she
again demanded, "What did you give him?"

"A sedative."

"*What* sedative?" she demanded, her attention remaining on Nick, who
was now completely catatonic.  She rifled in her lab coat pockets and
pulled out a penlight, then adjusted the intensity way down.  "Nick, if
you can hear me, I'm going to shine a light in your eyes real quick,"
she said, but he didn't react.  Nor did his pupils contract when she
darted the light back and forth in front of each eye.

"He can't hear you, Doctor."

She didn't reply, instead hovering her fingers over his faintly parted
lips.  Nothing.  She pulled out her stethoscope and tried to listen, but
still nothing.  For all intents, at least with what tools she had with
her, he was dead.  "You deliberately gave him an overdose," she said
angrily, turning and glaring at the soldier.  "A tranquilliser and what
else?  If it was only a sedative...  It's like he's fro--"  She stopped,
realising that was her answer.   It wasn't merely like he was frozen, he
actually was.  "A paralytic."

"Paralytics work faster and last longer in his kind," the first guard
answered, the one who had taken Nick out with the injection.  "But he'll
only be out for about an hour--max.  Protocol is to relocate him to
isolation if he attacks--"

"He did *not* attack me.  And he is staying right here."  She paused a
moment, then added, "As am I," before one of the men could suggest that
she leave.

Turning back toward Nick, Fraiser felt angry and nearly ill seeing his
blank stare.  She gently closed his eyes, then again faced the two men,
who now appeared a bit uncomfortable.  Before she or they could say
anything further, she saw Daniel enter and she relaxed a little.  "Why
don't you two leave," she stated coldly to the other two men.  One guard
started by Daniel, but the other glanced toward Nick.  "He is no danger
to anyone for the time being.  You made sure of that."  She stood and
followed the man to the door, which she shut.

"Is everything all right?" Daniel wondered, puzzled by the angry tone in
her voice.

"If you're asking about me, I'm fine."

"And him?" Daniel asked, nodding toward Nick.

"I'm not entirely sure," she slowly replied.  "What was the last thing
you saw before coming here?"

"One of the guards Zatting him three times before injecting him with
something...here," Daniel said, touching one hand to the side of his own
neck.

Fraiser nodded.  "That injection was likely an overdose.  To take him
out, they essentially killed him.  I get the impression that isn't a new
technique.  They probably did the same thing during our visit to
Nellis--so he'll probably be physically fine, but until he wakes up..."
Shaking her head, she finished, "To be honest, I'm more worried about
his mental health."

"So he's..."

"Not going to wake up for a little while--sounds like it'll be about an
hour."  She paused, exhaling.  "I intend to talk to Hammond about this
before he hears a different story."

"And before one of those guards turns in a request to have him
transferred back to Nellis."

"Exactly, and if possible, see about changing out his guards, at least
those two," Fraiser said with a nod toward the door.  "Zatting him and
sedating him like that was *completely* unnecessary."

"Why did they do it, go so overboard like that?"

"In their opinion, he was out of control, or he had 'lost control'."

"Had he?" Daniel prodded, but quickly got his answer when she looked
exasperated.  "It was kind of hard to tell..."

Fraiser shook her head and explained, "He wasn't fully awake, and I
think he may have thought I was part of his dream--at least at first.
But once I started talking to him, he realised rather quickly that it
was me, and he apologised sincerely."

"So..."

"For a moment, possibly, yes, but no more than might be expected.  Any
control he had lost, he regained very quickly--before they did anything.
And before you ask, no, he didn't hurt me.  He never intended to."

Daniel understood.  If he himself had been having a nightmare, depending
on what it was about, he might very possibly react similarly, minus the
super speed and super strength, of course.  "Do you want me to stay here
until he wakes?"

"Ah, no.  I think it would be better if only one person was here when he
wakes.  You can help me, though, by making sure Sam knows what happened
and that I am fine, and when General Hammond gets here...explain what
happened and tell him that I'll come talk to him sometime after Nick is
awake."

Daniel nodded, nearly turning to leave, but stopped.  "When he does,
could you ask him if he'd be okay with me coming by later?  We talked a
little yesterday, and I'd like to try again--but only if he's all right
with it."

"I'll ask...if he seems like he'd be all right with that."

"And ask if he wants to stay here, in case--"

"In case they attempt to have him transferred."

"Yes."

"Oh, I'll definitely ask him that."

"You sure you don't want me to stay?"

"Yes, I'm sure.  I'll be fine, Daniel," Fraiser said with a faint smile
and a touch of curtness.  She watched him reluctantly leave, then pulled
the door shut behind him.  Next she turned back toward Nick, who looked
horribly uncomfortable and was clearly not simply sleeping.

Approaching the bed, she gently shifted his body until he lay roughly
how she had initially found him.  She had nearly kept him on his back,
but she wanted to see when he woke.  Next, she walked over to the table
and pulled the accompanying chair closer to the bed so she could sit and
wait.

A little more than half an hour later, Nick appeared to twitch slightly.
Fraiser assumed this was a sign that he was recovering from the
overdose.  He didn't wake at that time, however, or even return to
dream-filled sleep.  A good twenty minutes passed before she noticed
that the dreams had returned...probably right about an hour after he had
been sedated.

Finally, a few minutes later, he abruptly woke and his eyes quickly
locked with hers.  She tried to smile.  "It's good to see you awake
again."

"What do you care?" Nick replied sluggishly.  "You know I'll recover."

"Physically.  But I'm also concerned about the dreams you were having,
the nightmares."

"I have nightmares every night," he replied in a stronger and steadier
tone, his lips almost twisting into a sarcastic smile.  "As I'm sure you
already know."

"Yes," she slowly confirmed, "But the last two nights you've barely
slept because of them.  And you weren't waking from the last one."

"You woke me," Nick stated, vaguely remembering that she had, or at
least he guessed she had.  The first thing he remembered after fully
waking was seeing that he had her pushed up against the wall.  "Did I
hurt you?"

Fraiser shook her head.  "No.  No, you didn't hurt me."

Nick narrowed his eyes at her.  He remembered that she had flinched back
the previous evening.  "What about yesterday--your wrist?  Did I hurt
you then?"

"Well, maybe a little, but it's already much better.  I'm fine," she
assured, but he just stared back, his eyes boring into her.  "I'm much
more concerned about you."

"Why?  I probably won't be here much longer.  I'm surprised I'm still
here, to be honest."

"I'm not sure yet how that will go, but you are most definitely still
here."  She paused, then carefully asked, "When you woke...what you did
was reflex, wasn't it?"

"Something like that."

"I guess it's a bad idea to try and wake a sleeping vampire," she
surmised, but he remained silent.  "Or is it a bad idea only when you're
having a nightmare?"

"More the latter, although I'm not sure a vampire can ever be
considered...safe to be around...at any time."

Fraiser wanted to tell him she didn't think that was true--that vampires
were inherently dangerous--but she pursed her lips in thought instead.
"You mentioned you were surprised to still be here..." she started,
turning the subject back to something Daniel had mentioned and Hammond
would certainly want to know.  "Do you *want* to stay here at the SGC?"

"What I *want* is irrelevant."

"No, it's very relevant.  If there's no request to send you back to
Nellis, and you don't want to stay--"

"The guards will put in a request or at least a strong recommendation.
That's their standard protocol.  They'll say I attacked you."

"And I'll swear that you didn't--and so will Daniel.  And I have no
doubt that Hammond will review the security footage from your room to
verify what happened.  He'll see that I woke you from a nightmare.  You
reacted before you were fully awake, but despite that, you did not harm
me.  That's all.  If what happened was anyone's fault, it was mine, and
it certainly wasn't yours.  In my opinion, what they did was completely
unnecessary."

"They will still try.  They will give their opinion as well."

"All right.  In that case, it would still be better to know your
preference.  Where would you rather be, at least in the near
future--here or back at Nellis?"

Nick looked away from Dr. Fraiser, even rolling onto his back so that by
default his gaze met the ceiling.  He'd prefer to stay where he was.
But he also didn't want to cause any trouble.  "I deserve to be sent
back."

"For what?  You haven't--"

"For all the things I've done in the past, for the countless people I've
killed, for the things I will do in the future," he stated, his eyes
darting to the mortal for her reaction, but she just stared evenly at
him.  "I assume you know I've killed, and it was no small number,
either."

"Considering what you are and our best guess at your age, that's pretty
much a given," she calmly responded, a bit surprised he was using this
as a reason.  "On the other hand you have also--"

"I've killed for more than just blood--and recently.  I'm sure you are
*fully* aware of that."  Nick turned his head back so that his eyes
faced the ceiling again.  He could hear the mortal's heart beat more
quickly.  She knew...something.  "How many of those tasked with guarding
me did I kill at Nellis?" he asked, but the only reply was a further
quickening of her pulse.  He turned his head back to her.  "How many?  I
know I must have killed at least some of them.  That weapon they've used
on me...it kills almost any lifeform with two shots...any lifeform
*other* than a vampire.  I'm sure I--I'm sure someone died."

"Anyone you killed with a Zat--"

"How many!?" he demanded, trying to force himself to change, but from
her near lack of reaction, he didn't think he managed it.

"With a Zat, three."

"With...  And without?" he asked, an edge still in his voice.

"Only one.  And he had a pre-existing injury and wouldn't have been
assigned to you in the first place if they'd known about it.  All four
deaths were ruled accidental."

Nick scoffed.  'Accidental'.  If not for him, they wouldn't have died.

"You didn't know what would happen."

"I knew.  I'd seen them use it, felt it when they used it on me.  I
knew--"

"But you didn't know it would kill them.  I know you weren't aware of
that until after you came here.  I've seen the footage and I know they
never told you--either that anyone had died or that a Zat acts more like
a...a taser on you--and a weak one, at that--compared to what it does to
regular humans.  You were disabled immediately after--or even
before--they died.  You couldn't have known what happened, and it wasn't
your fault."

"I still killed them.  It doesn't matter if it was an accident.  If not
for me, they'd probably be alive.  Their families...  As I said, I
*deserve* to be sent back."  Nick resumed his focus on the ceiling and
let out a derisive laugh.  "Or worse.  I deserve to be tortured, even
murdered for the things I've done."

Fraiser didn't like what he was saying, or the resigned tone in which he
said it.  But he was, at least, talking to her.  He hadn't answered her
previous question, either, and so she tried again, more firmly, "If it
can be arranged, would you prefer to stay?"

Nick hesitated, then stiffened upon hearing her stand.  Hoping she would
leave once he answered, he replied, "*If* it can be arranged."  His
words didn't succeed in getting her to exit.  In fact, she continued to
approach.  He attempted to avoid her, but when she stopped at the side
of the bed, he turned his head and shot a glare at her.

Fraiser tensed seeing his faintly golden eyes warning her back.  "Is it
all right if I sit here next to you?"

"Why?  So you can sedate me?  Again?  Or did you already do that?" Nick
tilted his head toward the alarm clock, which read a little past the
usual time for his first dose of the day.  "It's after six."

"No, I'm not going to give you anything, nor have I done so while you
were incapacitated.  I simply want to be sure you're doing okay
physically--that's all."  He didn't reply, but he stopped glaring at
her.  "May I?"

"If you wish," Nick mumbled.  He closed his eyes when she sat and pulled
out her stethoscope, trying not to move as she pulled down the comforter
and listened to his breathing and his heart.  At first she tried through
his t-shirt, but like other times, she had to place it directly on his
skin.  Now that he'd recovered from the worst effects from drug, he
didn't feel too different from what had become 'normal' of late, but she
appeared a bit more nervous than usual once she had finished examining
him.  Next she asked him to open his eyes...and flashed that wretched
pen light into them.

"I'm sorry, I know you don't like that."

"Are you finished?" Nick asked, pulling the covers back up mid-chest.

"For now," she told him.  "But I want to do another check later, and I
would really like--"

"A blood sample?" he almost snapped.

"Maybe at some point, but what I was going to say is that I'd really
like you to try and talk to someone."  Fraiser paused again a little
longer.  He didn't acknowledge her, but he didn't disagree or snap back
at her.  "And later, after you've gotten some sleep, Daniel would like
to drop by, if that's okay.  I'm sure you know you don't have to talk to
him, but you could at least listen."  She had expected some reaction by
now, but his stare didn't falter in the slightest.  "Do you think that
would be all right?"

He exhaled slowly, stalling, then muttered "Fine," before turning on his
side so that he was facing the wall.

Fraiser stared down on her obstinate patient, wishing she could do or
say something that might make him feel better.  She knew she likely
couldn't, but asked, "I'm going to stay for a few minutes, if you don't
mind."

"I don't care," Nick said, then stiffened when he felt her hand on his
shoulder.  The touch vanished as quickly as it had come, and he relaxed
when he felt the mattress shift as she stood.

After he had flinched at the touch, Fraiser nearly left the room, but
her need to make sure he'd actually get some sleep stopped her.  She
hoped that he wouldn't drift almost immediately into a nightmare.

Less than ten minutes later, she was disappointed when Nick had done
exactly that.  She stood but stayed back until he started awake from the
dream, then she once again sat on the edge of the bed, which startled
him further.  "It's all right," she assured him.  Then she asked, "Are
you getting any sleep at all?" suspecting he wasn't.  Nick, of course,
didn't reply.  "If you want, I can give you something to help you
sleep."

"No."

"It would only allow you to sleep without dreaming, not--"

"No," Nick repeated.  "I deserve the nightmares, and I want them.  I
don't want to forget what I've done.  Now please leave."

Fraiser pursed her lips at the dismissal, but at least she had tried.
Maybe Daniel would have better luck later, or she hoped he would.  And
she hoped Nick wouldn't be sent back to Nellis.  Even if he did believe
he deserved it, she didn't think it was best for him.

She stood, nearly touching his shoulder again as she did so, but
remembering how he had shirked back, thought better of it and simply
stood.  Then she quietly left, turning the light out before leaving.
She narrowed her eyes at the guards in the hall before heading away,
hoping they would leave him alone.

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

"You're not going to check my eyes again, are you?" Nick warily asked
when Fraiser prepared to resume giving him his injections a little after
noon.

"Ah, no.  For one, they were fine this morning.  For another, I know
your eyes are quite sensitive to bright light, and you understandably
dislike me irritating them," she said with a non-returned smile.  She
waited another moment before sliding the needle into his arm.  As usual
he didn't react, and she finished her task silently.  A minute or two
later, after she had put the syringe safely away and removed her gloves,
she abruptly noticed him close his eyes and bow his head.  "Are you
okay?"

He ignored the question.  He felt the usual wave of mixed excitement and
weakness from the blood and drugs, but this time the latter took over.
The lightheadedness was so strong he felt like passing out.  He pushed
up on the bed with his hands to steady himself while he stood.  Or tried
to.  Next thing he knew he fell hard onto his knees.  The only thing
that stopped him from falling further were hands holding him back, one
along his upper back gripping his shoulder, and the second holding his
other arm.  He felt so disoriented he didn't shrug out of the grip.  If
he tried, he feared collapsing more fully.

"Nick?"

"I'm okay, I just...I shouldn't have stood up so fast," he said even
though he hadn't gotten up fast at all.  Pulling slowly away, he used
the nightstand to push himself back up to where he had been sitting on
the bed.  "Has there been a decision yet on whether I'm staying here or
not?"

"No, not yet," Fraiser admitted.  "But based on my talk with Hammond, I
think you'll be allowed to stay.  For now, though, you won't be allowed
to leave your room."

Nick slowly nodded; he had expected as much.

"Your security is now also--at least for the moment--made up exclusively
of SGC personnel.  Most of them don't know what you are, so you'll need
to be on very good behaviour."

Nick tensed a little at that.  While he wasn't fond of those who had
come with him from Nellis, his new guards could be better--or worse.

"Did you manage to get any sleep?  I know you've been up for a couple of
hours at least..."

"Maybe.  I'm not sure," he told her.  He honestly didn't know how
much--if any--real sleep he had gotten after she left, because he kept
waking up.  "I'll be fine."

"Hmm," she commented back, not quite believing that.  True, with what he
was, Nick could cope with much less sleep than she could, and could
probably recover from any shortages much quicker, but in many ways she
doubted 'fine' was an accurate descriptor for how he'd be overall in the
near future.  She had the impression he felt he deserved any unsettling
thoughts he had--and not only the nightmares--or any other weakness a
lack of sleep might cause him.  Or any of the side-effects from the
injections, for that matter.  She had told Daniel about Nick's comments
about deserving to be sent back to Nellis and that he deserved the
nightmares...or far worse.

"Am I still supposed to go to the infirmary for my...shots, or by 'not
leaving' does that mean not at all?" he asked.  He didn't have an issue
with remaining there all day, but he didn't want to try to leave and be
taken out again.  Once was enough for the day.

"It means not at all," Fraiser confirmed.  "I'm sorry."

Nick pushed himself up off the bed at this clarification, managing to
stand this time, and walked slowly but steadily away from his bed and
the mortal.  He didn't look forward to what he knew would be another
visit, and soon.  If nothing else, maybe Dr. Jackson would bring his
current work project.  He could try to work, or at least pretend to.

"If you would rather Daniel not--"

"It's okay," he quickly replied without turning.  If Dr. Jackson asked
too many questions, he could always ask him to leave.  Slowly turning to
face Fraiser, he was dismayed that she didn't appear ready to leave.
"Do you have any more questions or instructions?"

"Not for the moment," she replied and stood.  "I'll let you know this
evening if anything has changed, but it might not be until Monday.  If
you need anything before then, just tell one of the men outside, or tell
Daniel or me when we're here."

Nick nodded, his gaze drifting away from both her and the door.  He
relaxed when she walked to the door and pulled it open, then a moment
later it closed and he was finally alone.

Next thing he knew someone knocked on the door--he hadn't had more than
a couple of seconds to relax.  "Come in...Dr. Jackson," he said, sliding
narrowed eyes to the door, which opened after a short beep.

Daniel paused after entering, research materials in his hands. "As
you've probably heard--"

"I'm stuck here," he finished, the words cold and even.

"Ah, yes.  For the time being, anyway," Daniel confirmed, then turned
toward the work table, which he approached and placed his items down on.
"I thought you might like this."

Nick remained silent, watching his visitor walk back over to the door.
Instead of leaving, Dr. Jackson simply shut the door and then turned
back around to face him.  "And you thought you'd try talking with me
again."

"Yes.  Dr. Fraiser mentioned...  She said you thought you deserve the
nightmares you've been having."  He took a step closer to Nick, who
nearly cowered back.  "Why do you think you deserve--"

"Because I do."

"Is that your opinion, or something others have told you?"

"It is my own opinion.  It'd probably be yours if you knew how many
people I've killed, how many lives I've ruined, and the atrocities I've
committed."

"I think I have a pretty good idea what you might have done, and--"

"No, you don't, Dr. Jackson," Nick said, staring, almost glaring.  "You
have no idea whatsoever.  How ever much you think you know...you don't
know me."

Daniel didn't continue right away due to the glare, but carefully
decided whether to push the topic or not.  "Your friend that you told me
you believe is dead..." he slowly began, then guessed, "By 'dead', you
mean you killed her, don't you?"

"Yes, I killed her."

"But you didn't mean to."

"I knew--we both knew--what could happen.  What would probably happen."

"So you didn't intentionally kill her.  You didn't plan to kill her.  It
was an accident," Daniel reasoned, but the other man looked away.  He
supposed that was a good indication he might be on the right path.  "How
did...whatever it was...happen?  I mean...were you trying to taste a
little of her blood, or--"

"She wanted me to bring her across, make her like me."

"And I take it that means--"

"I had to drain her blood until she was near death.  That's the hard
part, knowing exactly when to stop--and then actually managing to do
so."

"And so you--"

"Took too much," he said in a whisper.  "I knew immediately what I had
done...that I had killed her."

Daniel watched Nick almost fidget; he seemed quite uncomfortable.
Understandably so, since he knew the vampire had never talked about this
at all.  "The two of you were more than simply friends."

At the statement, Nick again met the mortal's gaze.  It was almost a
question, and he replied, "Maybe.  Yes.  It was...complicated."

"Is transforming someone into a vampire also complicated?  I'm guessing
there's more to it than just draining their blood.  Somehow I think your
own blood plays a role too."

Nick hesitated, not particularly liking the question.  But he did feel
he could trust the other man with this...and the method wasn't
particularly secret.  Vampires had been subjects of books and movies for
some time, and some of those portrayals were surprisingly accurate.
"It's not...overly complicated.  Like I said, it requires enough control
to stop at the right time, and some expertise to know when that is.
And, yes, then the person being...transformed...needs our blood to
complete the process.  Although even then there's no guarantee it'll
work.  But I knew right away I had taken too much of her blood.  So I
didn't bother with the rest.  She was already gone."

After a long moment of silence, Daniel asked, "Had you tried before?  I
mean with others?"

"Yes.  And succeeded all but a few times."

Daniel felt a little confused.  It sounded as though Nick had turned
many people, and generally did so without killing them.  Yet he stated
he had known he could, and likely would, fail if he tried to turn
Natalie.  The comment confirmed his guess that she was important to him,
and Daniel whispered, "Natalie meant a lot to you.  Is that part of
it--your emotions getting in the way, making you lose your focus,
perhaps?"

Upon hearing her name, Nick turned away.  He couldn't reply; didn't have
to, really.  The mortal had already guessed correctly.  Yes, it was
because he had cared for her and she for him that he lost his
concentration...and she lost her life.

"Is what happened why you essentially turned yourself in?  I mean you--"

"I don't remember a whole lot about that, but yes, at least partly.  It
wasn't my plan, I suppose you could say, and I needed a new one," he
answered, turning back to face the mortal.

"Your plan," Daniel echoed.  "You won't tell me what that originally
was, will you?"

"No," Nick quickly replied with an even glare.

Daniel tried not to react to the icy stare, but took a chance by
explaining, "I wasn't supposed to, but I did some research on your
past."  Pausing, he could tell that Nick wasn't thrilled, but the stare
didn't get any more sinister.  "Your choices of professions, especially
the most recent one, struck me as unusual, considering what you are."
He stopped again, but the other man remained still.  "Is it as atypical
a job as I think?"

"Probably."

"Did you even need to work?"

At this Nick nearly smiled, but caught himself.  He did, however, answer
honestly, "No."

Daniel found this interesting, and he commented, "So you didn't pick the
job because it was an easy way for you to make money--from what I
gather, cops only make a moderately mediocre salary--even less than I
do, I'd bet.  And a couple of your other jobs..."

Now Nick tensed; Jackson would probably know at least about his
incarnation as Lt. Parker, but he really didn't know what the other man
had learned about him or what else could easily be found.

"You have a habit of choosing jobs that impact others, specifically jobs
where you can help others."

"Maybe that's just an easy way of passing the time."

Daniel shook his head.  "No, I don't think so.  If you simply needed a
way to spend your time, you could do research of some kind, or learn to
be a mechanic or something--or you could even become an eternal student,
or a writer or artist.  But I think I'm right that you like helping
others, aren't I?"  Daniel could almost see his answer in Nick's eyes.
"You enjoy it, or at least it interests you.  It's something you want to
do, something you've consciously chosen."

"Maybe it isn't conscious," Nick countered.

"No," Daniel stated more firmly, any doubt gone.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because you are attempting--repeatedly--to suggest that I'm wrong.  And
because helping people, decade after decade, I know can be rather
mentally tiring for most.  Either you honestly enjoy helping people, or
you have some other motive that you are consciously aware of.  Or both."

Nick stared blankly back; he was dismayed by how accurately Dr.
Jackson's description had hit.  While he did indeed enjoy taking on
helpful roles, he also had other reasons, other motives.  But he wasn't
about to explain or confirm the mortal's suspicions.

After what felt like minutes of silence, Daniel took in a deep breath,
then continued, "Whether or not you have other motives, I think you're a
good person and that you enjoy helping others.  You don't deserve--"

"I am *not* a good person, Dr. Jackson.  I've--"

"Killed, yes, I know.  You've probably killed thousands...possibly even
tens of thousands.  You probably have a better idea than I do.  You did
what you had to do, at least for the most part.  On the other hand,
you're not the only one who's killed.  I couldn't begin to guess how
many have died during my time here at the SGC because of either my own
actions, or those of my team.  Teal'c might have a rough guess."

"What I did is different.  There's no comparison."

"I agree.  Yes, you have killed, but more for survival, not as a...show
of power.  Or, in my case, under the guise of doing something good.
Sometimes I even wonder if we do more damage than good."

"I know for a fact that *I've* done far more harm than good, Dr.
Jackson.  And I've killed for more than survival.  I know what it's like
to kill for pleasure, to torture someone."

Daniel held his spot and stance, despite Nick approaching until they
stood nearly face to face.  "If you're trying to scare me or convince me
you are some evil person, completely without a conscience...it's not
working.  All you're doing is demonstrating that in fact you do have a
conscience, and proving that you're not proud of some of the things
you've done...such as the atrocities you vaguely mentioned.  Besides,
knowing what it feels like to do something doesn't mean you enjoyed
it...or don't wish you hadn't."

"You have no idea what I have--or haven't--done."

"No, I don't, and I suspect you won't tell me, either."

"No."

"Even if you did, I have a feeling you'd only tell me the bad and not
the good.  I've noticed you always focus on what you've done--more
specifically, on what you've done wrong."  Daniel paused, and when he
got nothing but silence, he continued, "I wonder what someone who you
trusted with the details would say about you.  Your friend in Toronto,
Natalie Lambert--she knew, didn't she?  If I could ask her if you were a
good person, or if you deserved the nightmares or to be sent back to
Area 51...what would she say?"

Nick changed in a moment, his eyes blazing bright gold and his fangs
descending as he ordered, "Get out!  I've had enough of these questions,
and it's time for you to leave!"

Daniel stiffened upon seeing the vampire's fangs, but he didn't back
away.  "I'd like you to at least think about that, if not actually give
me an answer later."

"Leave.  *Now*," Nick repeated, moving closer.

The mortal stepped back, but didn't immediately turn or continue to the
door.  "I'll leave, but please consider answering the next time I see
you.  And if you don't feel comfortable talking to me, I still think it
might be good for you to talk to someone."

This time when Nick took another step toward him, Daniel moved toward
the door.  He had a feeling the vampire wouldn't give him a third chance
before forcing him out.

Nick kept his glare even until Dr. Jackson pulled the door open, gave
him a strange almost reassuring smile of sorts, then pulled the door
shut.  Then he tightly closed his now blue eyes.  It had taken him all
of his control to stay upset enough to maintain the change, yet manage
to not shove the mortal out the door with his first request.  Or worse.

He didn't need to think very hard to know the answer to Dr. Jackson's
question.  He and Natalie had held many conversations and arguments on
that very subject--very much like the last few minutes, except that
Natalie rarely backed off unless, literally, he pushed back a little too
hard.  She had strongly believed he was a good person, despite knowing
many of the things he had done or stood by and watched.  She had even
seen him kill.  She had known a few other vampires as well, but those
interactions had merely strengthened her opinion of him and her belief
that no vampire was a purely evil person.

She wouldn't have thought he deserved to either be locked away in a
secret government facility nor experience nightly, repeating,
nightmares.  She'd be worried, especially at the last.  Oh, she had
known he occasionally had nightmares, but it was far worse now than it
had been when he knew her.

His present nightmares also, however, touched on memories, which was why
he felt he deserved them.  Worse, some *were* unadulterated memories,
and the imagined dreams were often very realistic and might simply be an
extrapolation from previous experiences or an alternate ending to real
events.  His dreams were so close to reality that he had difficulty
sifting through them once he woke, distinguishing what had really
happened and what hadn't.

The disorientation didn't last long, and even if he didn't deserve the
mental discomfort, it was worth it.  His recall of Natalie was most
vivid and intense while he dreamt, and he wanted to be able to see her
clearly, remember her accurately.  Usually he could push away bothersome
memories, even if he felt strongly about whatever he had done.  But with
her, it was different.  After six years in Toronto, six years of working
with her...she was the closest thing he had to a family he had had since
he had become a vampire.  Not counting, of course, the so-called family
into which he had been inducted.  Natalie had made LaCroix' hovering
presence tolerable, made him feel like he was actually doing more good
than bad for the first time in a while--a very long while.

And now he had nothing, not really.  While Dr. Jackson suggested he talk
to someone, he wouldn't know who he should choose.  He felt most
comfortable around Dr. Fraiser, but the similarities between her and
Natalie, while few, made him want to keep his distance from her.  After
her was Dr. Jackson, then possibly his team member, Major Carter.  She,
however, seemed more interested in science or his work than his past.
Teal'c was hard to read.  He didn't distrust the Jaffa, but his stoic
stance made him difficult to trust.  Even worse, he reminded him faintly
of LaCroix, who promised trust and then blithely broke it without
warning.  Finally there was their team-leader.  O'Neill didn't seem to
know how to react to him, but he could tell the mortal disliked who or
what he was.  They had barely spoken, although he had to admit that was
more his fault than the mortal's.  O'Neill didn't completely avoid
him--often visiting Daniel while they were working--but he would avoid
O'Neill if he could.

That again left Daniel Jackson...to whom he had already talked the most
so far.  But it was also apparent they talked among themselves about
him, or at least Dr. Fraiser and Dr. Jackson did.  If Jackson wanted him
to talk, then he would need to know what would be passed on to whom and
if that included full details of what he said or only some things.

Opening his eyes, Nick's gaze locked on his research and he walked
toward it.  He merely stared down on it at first, then instead of
sitting, he picked up the materials and took them to his bed and sat
there, leaning back against the headboard.  Rather than work, however,
he simply closed his eyes.

Now that his anger had retreated, he could feel the effect of the
sedative more strongly.  One day soon he fully expected to pass out from
it.  Already that had happened a couple of times at night, but he also
knew that dose was different--all sedative and no blood to balance it.
The last couple of days had gone overall worse.  Earlier he had been too
weak to push Dr. Fraiser away.  At least she hadn't pressed her concern
too much, but in doing so she had only reminded him starkly for a few
seconds of Natalie.  After that he had just wanted her to leave.  He
didn't look forward to her next visit in a few hours.



A Trial Run - (08/32)

"Did you think about what I suggested yesterday?" Daniel asked early the
following afternoon after being allowed entry into Nick's room.

Nick stood in front of the door, his hand still on the handle.  "Did you
tell anyone about our last conversation?"

"Ah, only Dr. Fraiser so far."

"So far," Nick quietly repeated.

"I'll probably also mention a couple of things to my team.  And I'm sure
Hammond will want to know--"

"How and why I killed Natalie," Nick guessed.  "And what you think of
me."

"Yes, mainly.  Probably."

"And the answer to your question?  About what she'd think?"

"Probably."

"What if I didn't want something passed on at all?"

Daniel hesitated, then answered honestly, "I'm not sure."

"Possible or not?"

"It would probably depend.  I assume you're referring to non-trivial
issues."

"Yes."

"In that case, I would possibly need to confer with someone, but I'll
see if Hammond would find that acceptable.  If it is, I would try to
honour any requests."

"Try?"

"If, for example, you planned or appeared likely to harm yourself or
someone else--"

Nick nodded, he had guessed as much.  "You would inform your
superiors--which you would probably do anyway."

"Ah...yes."  Daniel waited, but Nick went silent and he changed the
subject, asking, "So...how are you doing with your temporary solitary
confinement?"

"I'm more accustomed to it than the temporary faux-freedom."

An awkward silence again took over for a moment, then Daniel returned to
his initial question.  "And on what I asked about before--what would
your friend have said about you and about your current--"

"Much the same as you seem to think," Nick quickly stated.  "She thought
I was--or at least could be--a good person."  His gaze momentarily
drifted.  "And she wouldn't believe I should be sent back to Nellis."

"But you still do."

"I still don't know why I was allowed to leave in the first place.  They
saw me as little more than a caged animal, a dangerous myth...something
to keep confined under lock and key at all times.  That was the logical
place to hold one of my kind, yes?  Not here."

Daniel tensed at Nick's near smile.  "You could escape from here,
couldn't you?  If you tried."

"Possibly...probably.  I'd have to actually try to know for sure."

"Which you won't do."

Nick just stared back.  Sometimes it tempted him, but if he left, where
would he go?  His gaze shifted again.  LaCroix would find him, of
course, and make him feel even worse than he presently did.  That was
what he had wanted to avoid when he had triggered his capture.  A living
hell.  And that was assuming he wasn't hunted down and re-imprisoned
first.  They could probably hunt down LaCroix as well.  But his sire
would kill or be killed, if it came to it.  Good or bad, the older
vampire would be a far more interesting subject for the humans.  LaCroix
was the oldest vampire Nick had ever met, a 2000-year-old Roman General
who had survived the destruction of Pompeii.  At a little over 800, Nick
himself was considered fairly old compared to most vampires, but
LaCroix...LaCroix had used the same first and last name for at least
half his life, if not a bit more, a name that wasn't too far from his
original name, Lucius, at least not in meaning.  But researching his
sire could lead the mortals to Janette...whom he hadn't seen since her
brush with mortality...and might not see ever again for other reasons.
He had saved her and freed her from their sire against her wishes.  She
was older than himself by a couple centuries.  Did she now know that he
had killed Natalie?  Had LaCroix gone to her and told her all he'd done?
Had he told her that he was now a prisoner by his own will?

"Is something wrong?"

Nick snapped his eyes back.  He had zoned out, forgotten he wasn't
alone.  "No."

"No comment?" Daniel asked, but Nick again stared rather blankly at him.
"You wouldn't even try to leave, would you?"

He deliberately ignored the question, focusing his gaze elsewhere.
"When will they reach a decision on whether I get to stay here or not?"

"Ah, hopefully tomorrow."

"Then any further conversation can wait.  There's no reason to continue
if I won't be staying."

Daniel nodded, conceding the point.  "All right, I can understand that,"
he agreed, but then nodded toward the scattered papers on the bed.  "I
could stay and help you finish that."

"No; I'm sure you'd rather go home.  I believe I overheard something
about you having a mission scheduled for tomorrow."

"I...suppose," Daniel said only faintly upset; he had expected his offer
to be turned down.  "If you do get to stay, can we continue our
conversation?"

Nick hesitated before vaguely answering, "In some form," as he honestly
wasn't sure he'd like the topic.  Then, quickly, he pulled the door
open.  "Good day, Dr. Jackson."

Daniel gave a single nod in reply, then left, not wanting to draw
attention from the guards.

Nick shut the door immediately, wishing he could lock it from the
inside.  He had lost track of the present in front of Jackson, and the
mortal had noticed.  If they talked more often, it would surely happen
again...and again.  He had been lucky he hadn't completely zoned out
into some lost memory, which was harder to recover from.  If at some
point they resumed this discussion, he hoped they wouldn't talk too much
about his past.  He didn't like being distracted like that, missing
parts of conversations and making others concerned about him.  He didn't
deserve their concern.

Nick almost genuinely hoped he would be sent back to his small white
room at Nellis.  While he believed he should be sent back, he actually
preferred the idea of remaining here at the SGC.  Here he was treated
like a sentient person.  That was strangely nice after years of
isolation, even if other expectations came along with it.

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

The following day, Monday, Fraiser prepared to give Nick his noon dose,
but noticed he was unusually anxious.  "Do you want me to wait a few
minutes?"

"If I were to be transferred, would you tell me before--"

"This is your usual medication, the usual combination," Fraiser quickly
assured him.  "And, yes, if I'm here, I will tell you if I can."

Nick relaxed slightly.  "Have you heard anything about--"

"No, I haven't heard a word about you being transferred.  If I were to
guess, I'd say you're staying."

"But it's just a guess," Nick mumbled to himself and looked away.  "And
no, you don't need to wait."

Fraiser waited a moment before giving him the injection, which he now
accepted without further hesitation.  She carefully watched her patient
try to react as little as possible.  All she saw was him close his eyes
and grip his opposite hand firmly to the edge of the bed.  He didn't
sway even slightly, despite undoubtedly feeling lightheaded and knowing
that he could collapse at any moment without warning.  She was concerned
he would eventually do exactly that, especially if he stayed here--which
he probably would.  "Tomorrow or the next day, I'd like to take a blood
sample, then see about making some adjustments."

"I'm fine, Doctor.  Besides, I might not even be here."

"I think you will," she told him, trying to smile, but he kept turned
away from her.  "Please at least consider it.  I think you'd feel better
if you weren't overly sedated.  And I think this dosage is doing exactly
that."

"Do you have permission to do that--adjust my medication?"

"Not explicitly at this moment," Fraiser admitted.  "But I am in charge
of your medical care while you're here, and it's clear to me your dosage
was a guess--probably close, but not close enough.  I would need your
cooperation to adjust it, though.  And you would need to be honest with
me about how you feel."

Nick's eyes flitted to the perceptive mortal.  She was fully aware that
he had been downplaying how the injections were affecting him.

"I don't suppose you'd care to elaborate on what 'fine' means?" she
asked, but Nick's blank-ish stare turned into a firm glare.
Unimpressed, she added, "Is that a 'no' or a 'not now'?"  She waited
again, and after getting nothing but continued silence, she sighed and
suggested, "Maybe after you find out that you get to stay?  Or 'if',
since you seem to be doubting that outcome."

"If.  Maybe," was all Nick said.

"Hmm," Fraiser responded while she stood and prepared to leave, not
wanting him to shut down.

"Who will tell me if I'll be allowed to stay or not?  You?  Dr.
Jackson?"

"Probably me or General Hammond, at least if they reach their decision
today or early tomorrow.  SG-1 is off-world for now."

"Off-world," Nick said at the same time she had.  "I know."

"Yes, and we don't yet know how long they'll be gone, but the decision
will likely be made before they get back, assuming bureaucracy doesn't
get in the way."  She gave him a smile, then turned to leave.

"Do many of those who go through the stargate end up injured or killed?"
he abruptly asked, curious and aware he might not have another chance to
ask such questions if he was sent back to his original cell at Nellis.
What Jackson had said about not knowing how many had died due to their
actions had made him curious and reminded him of the few injuries he'd
seen in the infirmary, including the severe burn on the man Fraiser had
described as having been lucky.  "I know there have been casualties.
I've heard mention of it in the halls, and I've seen several injured in
the infirmary."

Fraiser turned slowly back, her smile gone.  "Most non-fatal injuries
can be treated, but I would say more are killed than I would like, more
than any doctor would like.  Unfortunately, there are considerably more
deaths than severe injuries."

"Have you been the primary physician for the entirety of the operations
here?"

"If by operations here, you mean since the Stargate Program became
operational in its current form, then no, not quite all of that time,
but almost all.  I wasn't the primary physician at first, but I've been
here about four and a half years now."

"And your own job is relatively dangerous, too, isn't it?" Nick
half-asked and half-stated.  "Compared to other...Air Force medical
doctors."

"It's probably more dangerous, yes."

"Dealing with dangerous aliens and exotic new diseases brought back
through the stargate--and dangerous creatures like me.  Then you have
the equivalent of war casualties from whatever happens off-world."

Fraiser stiffened a little at his reference to himself, and then the
strange, almost anxious stare he gave her once he had finished.  "Your
presence here is not a burden on me."  She smiled a little, thinking.
"In fact, it's actually kind of nice to have a regular, daily patient
who isn't here because they somehow injured themselves for the umpteenth
time."  She almost added that Nick was also a fairly cooperative
patient, but she didn't want him to try and prove her wrong, so she just
smiled again and left.

He stared at the newly shut door until he heard the doctor's footsteps
fade away in the hall.  Then he shifted on the bed until he had the
translation and various notes--some Dr. Jackson's and some his own--in
front of him.

Nick, however, didn't look at any of the papers.  It felt pointless to
do any further work until he knew whether he would be staying.  He had
occasionally heard his guards discussing him before the 'attack' on the
doctor.  According to what he overheard from them, if he went back to
Nellis, he would no longer be allowed to work on anything related to the
stargate.  They didn't all agree; a couple of the soldiers believed he
would be allowed to continue, he just wouldn't have any actual contact.
The new ones...they knew less of what was going on than *he* knew.

The thought of being confined again didn't particularly bother him, but
he rather enjoyed seeing and listening to other people working around
him, or better yet, *with* him, even if he was still getting used to it.
It made him feel less like a slave and more like a normal human...like
he wasn't too different from the others, such as Dr. Jackson, even
though he was, essentially, an unpaid slave.  But it made him feel like
he was actually doing research, actually working.

Eventually Nick leaned back against the headboard of the bed again.  He
closed his eyes to wait, either to learn whether or not he would stay,
or until time for his next injection.  He nodded off a couple of times
soon after Fraiser had left, only to start awake moments later, more
memories flashing into his unoccupied mind.

Even when the clock reached and then passed five o'clock, Nick didn't
relax.  A little after five-thirty, he again heard footsteps approach,
but instead of continuing steadily past, they slowed.  It wasn't Dr.
Fraiser or Dr. Jackson--he could tell that instantly.  Then he heard a
semi-familiar voice speaking to his guards--General Hammond.  He
stiffened further at that and froze when several short knocks came at
the door, along with the mortal's voice, which was now directed at
himself.

"Dr. Parker, this is General Hammond.  May I enter?"

Nick was faintly surprised at the request for his permission.  Dr.
Fraiser usually just knocked, said who she was, then came in.  "Yes,
Sir," he said, then heard the lock open right before the door swung
inward.  The general looked exactly as he had the previous two times
they had met--all business.

Once the door shut, Hammond asked, "Do you know why I'm here?"

"I have a guess."

"Good.  But first, I want to know what you yourself want.  If you have
no desire to stay here--"

"If I have a choice, I'd prefer to remain here," he quickly answered,
not wanting to waste time.

Nodding, Hammond explained, "Glad to hear it.  And I do in fact have
permission for you to stay, but I would also like to make some changes
to that stay."

Nick had stood during the last, and now he narrowed his eyes.  "What
kind of changes?"

"As I believe you are aware, your security guards have been temporarily
switched out for SGC personnel.  I would like to make that change
permanent, but doing so requires informing a few others of what you
are."

"How many others?"

"At least an additional three or four individuals, perhaps as many as
double that number."

"And?"

"Would you consent to that?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course you have a choice."

"But if I don't consent--"

"Then either your security force from Nellis will be reinstated, or you
will be confined to this room."

"Will I know who knows, or--"

"Anyone who is assigned directly to you will know what you are.  The
others who would be told you would almost assuredly have no contact
with."

Nick turned to one side to face away from Hammond.  If he didn't
agree...  Even being semi-trapped in this room wouldn't be that bad, but
it sounded like if he agreed, little would change.  "What other changes
do you have in mind?"

"To avoid telling too many individuals what you are--something I suspect
you would prefer--your guard detail would be reduced to one, and at
times none."

Nick spun abruptly back at that, not quite believing it.

"The reduction would only be in those that would need specifics.
Security here at the base would, overall, be increased, and if you tried
to leave the designated areas, you would still be forcibly stopped."

"Forcibly stopped," Nick repeated.

"I believe you know what that means, Dr. Parker.  However, as you know,
that is nothing new.  If you had tried to leave a week ago, the same
thing would have happened then as it would now if you make such an
attempt.  And even when no one is directly with you, you will still be
watched."

"By the security cameras," Nick stated.  "Which is already done."
Getting a nod, he asked, "And what else?"

"If you're willing to work with some of the other teams, you'll be
allowed--"

"Will they be told what I am?"

"No, they won't know.  You would be doing the same thing you have been,
but also working on more current texts and artefacts, and you and Dr.
Jackson--or you and another researcher--may be working together
directly."

"Isn't that what I've been doing?"

"My understanding is that any direct collaboration so far has consisted
almost entirely of him checking over your work."

"Has Dr. Jackson been informed that if I stay, we'd possibly work more
closely together?"

"He's been told and gave his consent.  It would, however, be your
choice."

Nick's eyes narrowed further.  "Why do I have so many choices now?" he
asked, wondering if it had anything to do with him talking to Dr.
Jackson, or what he had said to Dr. Fraiser.  "If you think being...nice
to me will get me to say--"

"Dr. Fraiser and I believe you have not been treated as fairly as you
should have.  Some of these changes are intended to rectify that
situation, while others are based on your behaviour since your arrival
here.  The changes are an attempt to improve your living conditions to a
level more commensurate with that behaviour."

Nick had an idea what the mortal referred to.  He hadn't tried to escape
or deviate from the designated areas, and so the assumption was that he
wouldn't do so in the future.  He thought it was a foolish decision...or
possibly he was just imagining what LaCroix would think of this.  "You
should never forget that vampires are as dangerous as you were advised
when I first came here."

"That may be, but I also believe Dr. Fraiser, Dr. Jackson and I have a
good idea what kind of person you are, and we think you should be judged
on your own merit, on *who* you are, rather than *what* you are.  After
all, I have the feeling your people are as diverse as humans in general,
and that you are probably more reasonable than--"

"You should not become complacent because I seem more normal than you
expect, General.  I have acted far from...reasonable...for most of my
existence, and I will disappoint you if you try comparing me to, for
example, Dr. Jackson."

"I'll admit that I don't know all the things you've done, but I assure
you that you're not alone in disappointing one person or
another...family, superiors, myself."

Nick now turned abruptly away, Hammond's comment about family striking
too close to home.  Always being likely to disappoint one person or
another--a very fitting description of his own life.  Either he did and
acted as he wished and was a pathetic, weak, and ungrateful child of
LaCroix, or he embraced his sire's ideals, only to loathe and regret his
actions.

"It is unlikely that you will disappoint me if you continue with your
current behaviour.  And I believe you may find you have more in common
with Dr. Jackson than you realise, as well as the other members of SG-1,
even Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c.  I suggest you get to know them better,
along with anyone else you might work with."

"Is that a requirement if I stay?"

"No, it's merely a strong suggestion," Hammond restated.  Before he
could continue, a knock came at the door, accompanied by Dr. Fraiser's
voice.  A moment later she entered, only to come to an abrupt halt.

Fraiser glanced between the two, settling on Hammond, "General, I can
return in a few minutes if--"

"Not necessary, Doctor," he said with a glance toward her, then he
turned back to Nick.  "Until you agree to the new conditions, you'll
have to remain here in your quarters."

Nick had almost forgotten about that, but quickly replied, "I agree, I
suppose," he said a little uncertainly.  "Yes, I agree," he repeated
moments later, but more firmly, and more to himself than to Hammond.

"Good.  Then tomorrow morning you may resume going to the infirmary, and
you may also choose whether to work here in your quarters or in Dr.
Jackson's lab.  We'll discuss the other things I mentioned over the next
couple of days."

Nick silently nodded, then watched Hammond leave and pull the door shut
behind him.

"I take it that you're staying?"  Dr. Fraiser looked pleased by the
prospect.

"Apparently.  With switched out security and fewer guards, at least
those that follow me around."

"That'll be nice, won't it?"

Nick didn't know whether it would or not, and he simply sat back down on
the bed.

"And?  What else?"

"I might get to work with some of the other...teams," he answered.
After all, she'd probably find out sooner or later, assuming she didn't
already know.  Then he clarified, "If I want to--if I agree to it."

"Will you?"  She sat next to him and pulled a pre-filled syringe from
her bag.  "Nick?"

"I don't know," he absently and honestly told her.  He hadn't had enough
time to think about it.

"Are you at least considering it?"

"Yes," he whispered, then flinched back a little upon feeling the doctor
touch his arm.  He hadn't been paying attention and it startled him.

"Good," she said both to his answer and the fact that he had quickly
relaxed his arm.  "And maybe tomorrow you'll let me start taking some
blood samples so that I can adjust this," she suggested while giving him
the injection.  She waited, knowing he probably wouldn't reply right
away.

He closed his eyes as usual, then felt himself sway a little.  He
snapped his eyes back open to see he was still sitting, at least.

Fraiser pursed her lips to keep from saying something, then busied
herself by putting the empty syringe away and closing her bag, but still
he hadn't answered.  "Nick?  It doesn't have to be a yes or no, but--"

"If you have permission, then...then do whatever you want with me," he
muttered with a glance at her, feeling like he didn't really have a
choice.  And assuming she had permission, he didn't think he really
cared.  He trusted her not to run any unnecessary tests on his blood.
"Do you have permission?"

"Ah, not explicitly, at least not yet.  General Hammond was supposed to
ask, but it appears he talked to you first," Fraiser answered.  "Since
it sounds like he plans to speak with you again soon, would you prefer
if he told you whether or not I have the go-ahead to adjust your
dosage?"

Nick quietly nodded, then switched to shaking his head, then back to
nodding.  "Whatever.  It doesn't really matter."

"I'll have Hammond tell you," she said since he had agreed with her
suggestion more than not.  Standing, she found herself not wanting to
leave.  Nick looked more out of it than ever, even compared to the last
few days.  While asking how he felt would certainly get no useful
answer, she had an idea of another question that might gain more useful
information.  "I don't believe I asked you earlier--did you manage to
get any more sleep last night than the night before?"

Nick glanced up, meeting her gaze silently for a moment before
responding, "A little more."

"But not much more?"

"No."

"Well, I hope you sleep better tonight.  And I'll see you bright and
early in the morning."

Nick had nearly turned away, but snapped his eyes back to her.  She had
given his midnight doses the past few days, and he had become accustomed
to it.  "You won't be here tonight?"

"No, that was just for a few days, I'm afraid to say."

"Will my nurse be switched out, along with my guards?"

"Hmm, your nurse is already SGC I believe."

"I've had two," Nick noted, "And one of them I've seen before at
Nellis."

Fraiser sighed after a moment, realising he was right.  "Yes, I know
you're not fond of either one of them.  But especially Karen.  All
right, I'll see what I can do about that."  She tried to give him a
smile, but with his blank look, she couldn't quite manage it, so she
left.

Nick shut his eyes and shifted to lean back against the bed's headboard
once more to prepare for the second wave of lightheadedness.  He could
barely focus.  He could barely remember all of what General Hammond had
said to him.  He was exhausted from the combination of not getting much
sleep the last four nights and the latest injection.

As his heart beat more strongly and finally pushed the blood and drugs
through his body, Nick went limp, passing out, his back sliding slowly
along the headboard as he fell onto his side.



A Trial Run - (09/32)

Over the next several days everything went relatively smoothly.

The first day Nick had a single guard, and that man followed him
wherever he went that day.  He had also allowed Dr. Fraiser to take a
blood sample after General Hammond talked to him again.  Apparently the
changes really were as much due to their concern as it was for his good
behaviour.  His stay was no longer a trial; he had officially passed his
probation period, though he hadn't yet agreed to working with any of the
others on the base besides Dr. Jackson.

The following day, Nick felt downright uncomfortable and unsettled.  His
security had dropped to nothing for the morning, and Fraiser had given
him a different mix for his noon injection, less sedative and more
blood.  Afterwards, he had felt so jittery, so on-edge, he had stayed in
his room and paced until mid-afternoon.  That also stopped him from
glancing over his shoulder constantly, only to find no one following him
like he had in the morning.

That evening, he barely made it back to his room after his third dose
that day before collapsing.  Again.  He hadn't passed out this time, but
he was momentarily too weak to move, unless half-crawling and
half-dragging himself to rest his back against the side of the mattress
counted.  It took a good ten minutes before he managed even that, and
another twenty minutes before he dared to sit on his bed.  That night he
had fallen unconscious more quickly than usual, almost before the nurse
had left.

That was another somewhat good but slightly nerve-wracking change.  His
nurse had been the one from the SGC that didn't know what he was, and
Dr. Fraiser was supposedly working on a fix.  Hopefully that would
happen soon, otherwise he'd get his other nurse--the one he didn't
like--back, at least for a couple of nights.  He had no idea what the
fix would be, but it had to be better than his hit-and-run nurse who was
rougher than necessary.  Worse still, he often felt as if she was giving
him extra sedative.

She also either subtly insulted him or talked to the guards about
him--about how dangerous he was.  He didn't like it, but he hadn't
wanted to complain.  He hadn't even told Fraiser why exactly he was
uncomfortable around that nurse, but he suspected she knew.  Otherwise
she would have asked; he was certain of that.

The third day had gone much like the first, except that he had been in
Dr. Jackson's lab most of the day.  Jackson had somewhat ambushed him
with a small project for both of them.  Nick had reluctantly agreed to
try it, and it had gone surprisingly well.  He and Jackson had differing
strengths when it came to the languages and cultures with which they
were familiar, yet seemed to work quite smoothly together.  Even with
the languages they had in common, beyond the basics they had focused on
different areas.  They had, after all, researched wildly different
topics.

Jackson had focused, from what Nick could tell, primarily on things
pertaining to aliens and the stargate, and he...  His own research had
been, when not general information, focused on vampires--what little he
had found.  Only ancient cultures mentioned real vampires.  With the
advent of religions such as Christianity, much of that old
information--particularly proper translations closer to the source--had
been destroyed.  He hadn't yet asked the mortal if he'd ever come across
anything about vampires in his research.

Or Teal'c, for that matter.  Like Jackson, the alien had been non-fazed
at him being non-human, but Nick had the impression Teal'c only said
what was necessary and he likely held much back.  He was tempted to ask
the Jaffa outright, but he didn't really trust the alien.

Another thing that had gone well was that no one had tried to convince
him to talk more about himself or his past.  Instead, they kept asking
how he felt.  Fraiser asked after his injections, and Jackson asked
whenever he wasn't in his lab when he otherwise shouldn't be in the
infirmary.

Nick didn't blame her for asking.  Despite his efforts to hide it, she
could see him react, and knew at least that he was uncomfortable.  And
he *was* uncomfortable; it wasn't something she was imagining.  The
drugs in the injections were affecting him more since he had been taken
out nearly a week ago, even though the dose of sedatives had been
lowered.  Or possibly because of that.  He couldn't tell.

But as far as he was aware, there was no requirement of where he had to
work at any given time.  Unlike Jackson, he didn't have a set work
schedule.  He had asked General Hammond about that, and learned that
unless he was working with someone, he could work whenever and wherever
he pleased.  Any collaborative work would be arranged ahead of time, but
not explicitly scheduled, which was fine with him as long as he had a
say.  And at least with Jackson, he felt if he refused to meet him at a
specific time or not at all, the mortal wouldn't try to forcibly talk
him out of it.

The next day, the fourth day of his reduced security, Nick had tested
that theory.  His varied doses of tranquillisers and blood had gotten to
him again after noon and he had told Jackson he preferred to work alone
for a bit.  The mortal had shown a hint of concern, but hadn't objected.
The next several days Jackson had been gone, either off-world or at his
home.

As days passed, Nick found himself feeling ever worse.  By the middle of
the next week, after falling one morning in the infirmary and not
immediately being able to stand and leave, Fraiser didn't simply lower
his dose of sedative, but completely skipped it.  His next injection had
been entirely blood, and he had left the infirmary as quickly as
possible, thankful he didn't have any soldiers following him that day.
He had then inadvertently bumped into someone going around a corner, and
he unintentionally changed in an instant, feeling his hunger flare to an
almost uncontrollable level.  He shut his eyes and continued along the
wall until he felt certain the man, a scientist, had continued on his
way, oblivious to the danger he'd been in.

That had been too close, too tempting, and yet the few drops of his own
blood Nick had tasted made him feel queasy.  The sharp but almost
sickening taste had snapped his thoughts back to his present location--a
busy hallway.  As if on cue, he heard a warning over the speaker system,
which didn't help how he felt.  He had gone back to his room at that
point, both wanting and needing to be alone.  He hadn't stayed long
because he couldn't focus and ended up pacing.  Jackson's lab proved to
be empty when he arrived, which wasn't too unusual after an 'unscheduled
activation', and there he managed to zone in on his work.

Or he had for a while.  Fraiser had let him know that the next time she
saw him she'd have an idea on how to avoid seeing his not-so-favourite
nurse.  She had given him no hints about her plan.

"Daniel--"

Nick jerked at the voice, turning around to see if he had missed
Jackson's return, but all he saw was the mortal's teammate, Major
Carter.

"I'm sorry, for a second I thought--"

"No problem," he assured her.

"Do you happen to know where Daniel went?"

"No," he told her.  In his peripheral senses, however, he could hear
Jackson's steady heart beating closer by the step.  "I don't know where
he went, but I believe he's on his way back."

Sam turned and, indeed, Daniel walked around a corner and into view.
"You can hear someone that far away?" she asked, but rather than
answering, Nick smiled oddly at her.  "You can, can't you?  Did you hear
me before I spoke?"

"I wasn't paying attention."

"But if you had been, what, you would have known it was me?"

"I would have known someone was there, but probably not who until I
looked up or you said something."

"But you can pick Daniel out from--"

"Right behind you."

Sam turned and, indeed, Daniel had stopped right behind her--but out of
Nick's sight.

"What's going on?" Daniel asked, noticing Sam's stunned expression.
"Something wrong?"

"Ah, no, I came here to talk to you and Nick pointed out that you
were...approaching."  She glanced toward the vampire, whose smile had
vanished.

Before Jackson had a chance to speak, Nick stood, told them with a nod,
"I'll leave you two to talk," and left, skirting out past them.

Daniel's gaze followed him until he turned a corner out of sight.  "So,
what was that about?"

"Just what I said," she said, stepping into the lab.  "For a second, I
thought he was you.  I apologised, then asked if he knew where you were.
He said no, but then he said he thought you were coming back.  When I
turned around, no more than a second later, you came into view."

Daniel hadn't fully entered the room, and he turned back toward where he
had come from.  "Way back there?" he said nodding.

"Yep.  He didn't directly answer when I asked if he could hear or sense
or...whatever, but it sounds like he can pick you out from other
people."

"That's probably not too surprising, considering what he is," Daniel
said, finally entering.  "Besides, he spends more time with me than
anyone else here.  He's probably picked up on the sound of my pulse, and
I've left and returned countless times while he's been in here; he can
probably recognise that pattern, too."

"It doesn't creep you out a little?" Sam prodded.  "I mean if he can
zone in on someone through several walls of concrete and know who it
is...I think that would make me uncomfortable.  And you, for that
matter.  These are skills he has probably used to...hunt us.  To kill
us."

"I hadn't thought of it that way, but you're probably right.  He seems
to use his senses for an early warning system.  And he's not hunting
me--or anyone else, for that matter," he told her, walking over to a
stool and sitting.  "Nor is he trying to kill any of us.  It's just
something he can do.  And the only thing he does that I would
consider...creepy, I guess...is how he can walk in here right by me
without making a sound.  I'll turn and there he is, working, and I have
no idea how long he's been there."

"That would be a bit--"

"It's a little disconcerting, maybe, but that's all.  And I don't think
he does it intentionally; I believe it's simply natural for him.  He's
probably not even aware of it," Daniel finished, then paused for a few
seconds.  "So, what did you want to see me about?"

Out in a nearby hallway, Nick opened his eyes, breaking his
concentration on Jackson and Carter's conversation, which had quickly
switched to work.  He was feeling tired again, drained from focusing so
intently at the same time his body was trying to heal, to normalise.  He
had been thankful he was presently guard-less, otherwise he would never
have been able to eavesdrop.  Their comments surprised him, including
the Major's to him before he had slipped out.  He had figured they'd
already known all about what he could do, yet Major Carter had been
genuinely surprised.  Jackson hadn't been, but as he had noted, he spent
more time with him.

Jackson's mention of being snuck up on was also new.  He felt
comfortable around the other man, and when he felt comfortable around
someone, he relaxed and sometimes slipped.  He knew Dr. Jackson had been
slightly startled by his presence a couple of times, but hadn't realised
why, or more precisely, that he had done anything at all.  He felt so
weak and almost clumsy at times; he hadn't considered he still might be
too quiet.  He would have to try and fix that.

Thinking about that made him reminisce about Natalie yet again.  He had
snuck up on her countless times, more often than not it was on purpose
and other times he'd done it without thinking about it.  Whenever she
had told him not to do it again, she couldn't manage it with a straight
face.

Nick tightly shut his eyes again.  He missed being around someone from
whom he didn't have to hide what he was...and he was quickly becoming
accustomed to that feeling again.  Jackson and Carter's rampant
curiosity and lack of real fear was dangerous--for both sides.

Nick started quickly for his room, his eyes on the ground.  He wondered
if he should remain there for the remainder of the day.  Even as he
thought it, he knew that wouldn't be the best choice.  He wanted to stay
here at the SGC.  That meant he couldn't avoid working around and with
others.  If he did, there would be little reason to waste resources to
keep him here instead of at Nellis.

Professional.  He had to remain professional.  And he couldn't let his
guard down around any of them, especially the scientists.  Fraiser,
Jackson, and Carter were all...  They had all been far nicer to him than
he was accustomed to.  He particularly wasn't used to having multiple
people know about him at the same time, much less care about him.  He
wasn't used to it and was afraid of what would happen if he allowed
himself to really settle in here.

While no longer there on a trial basis, he still wasn't guaranteed any
kind of permanent position.  He was still just being allowed to work
here instead of at Nellis.  If he screwed up, if he lost control and
hurt or killed someone, he would be gone.  While Jackson and his
co-workers thought he wouldn't harm anyone, Nick knew better.  He could
and had killed those who had trusted him--and that was when he was at
full strength and had the most control.  At present he was weak and
erratic at best.  Beyond that, he didn't really know what state he was
in.

It also wasn't normal for a vampire to pass out, yet he had been doing
so frequently.  When it happened, he felt disoriented upon waking.
Worse, his hunger was slowly awakening from the adjustments Fraiser was
making.  Even when given a full dose of blood with no sedative, all it
did was tease his system.  He would desire blood ever more until he was
given more...or he forcibly took it from someone, somewhere...

Nick's thoughts went blank sometime before he reached the door to his
room.  He simply stared forward for several seconds before he fumbled
for his key card, then swiped it.  A moment later, he was in the quiet
of his quarters.  With nothing left to distract him, he lay down on his
bed to try to rest and refocus.  He then either fell asleep or passed
out.  It was all blurring together.

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

A week later, Nick felt even worse--more erratic, more on-edge, and far
weaker.  Put another way, he was becoming exceedingly more dangerous.

It didn't matter that he spent most of his waking hours in a haze, or
that he was trying to sleep in-between ever more muddled dreams.  Even
so, it didn't slow his work down terribly much.  He worked fastest when
Dr. Jackson was there in the lab, but only if the mortal was working on
something else.  He felt the worst when they were working together,
particularly when in close proximity and soon after his injections.

Those were also becoming more erratic, along with his reactions.  None
of the doses were identical to his original regimen--even the midnight
dose had been altered.

While that last dose remained solely sedatives, the proportion had been
progressively lowered, and he knew the drug had been changed.  The
sedative had been the only thing letting him get any real, restful
sleep, it seemed.  He didn't wake as often with the new, lower dose, but
he felt more exhausted upon waking, especially the last two or three
days.  The one good thing about those night doses was that the nurse he
didn't like had been replaced.  The new one didn't know what he was and
he had so far managed to hide any hints of how he felt from her.

Then there were the daily doses.  All had either a reduced amount of
sedative--or none--or an increased amount of blood.  Most had both.
Nick wasn't sure which was worse--all blood, the altered mix, or the old
combo.  He now always passed out or collapsed soon after injections that
had any amount of sedative in them.  The doses of pure blood, however,
zoned his attention in on more blood rather than make him feel more
stable.  He wished he at least knew where in the infirmary Fraiser kept
blood for emergencies.  She almost always prepared his injections ahead
of time so that all she needed do was retrieve some gloves, an alcohol
swab, a pre-filled syringe, and that was that.  All he knew was that any
blood for his meals was kept separate from base supplies, but his
medication was kept in the same area as all other medicines.

"Nick?"

He started, looking up from what he had been working on and toward the
door, where he found Fraiser leaning against the doorframe.  She had
checked up on him several times, but usually only if he'd reacted
badly--stumbling or falling or the like--and only when he had been alone
in his quarters.  Not sure how long he had been working, he
automatically glanced up at a clock.  It immediately told him why she
had come by--it was fifteen, going on twenty minutes past noon.  He had
missed his check-in time, and by more than a few minutes.  "I'm sorry, I
must have lost track of the time," he mumbled in apology.

"No problem," she said, still in the doorway.  Daniel gave her a glance,
but didn't greet her, for which she was thankful.  It was probably
better if Daniel didn't say anything.  "Would you rather come with me to
the infirmary, or--"

"Just do it here," Nick replied with a nod to a bag held in one of her
hands.

Fraiser slowly approached and placed the bag on the work area off to
Nick's side.  "After this morning, I think it's best if you forego any
additions."

Nick tensed, not sure he wanted another dose of straight blood.  His
morning dose had also been almost entirely blood, and after the
injection he had become dizzy from hunger and the doctor became
concerned he might pass out.  He hadn't, but even now he felt a bit off.
Tired.  Weak.  Almost hungry...but not.  That dose had had as much blood
as if it had been only blood but the same overall volume...and two of
the previous day's doses had been solely blood.  He tensed further upon
seeing the syringe.  It was even fuller than what he had received that
morning, and he could already smell it...tempting him.

"Now, this is a slightly larger dose," she said.  "If you don't want it
all, just say so, but until how you feel levels off, I'd really like to
continue."  He didn't reply, his eyes locked on the syringe.  "And
you'll need to take this off," she added, tugging gently on the fabric
of his shirt.

The rustle brought Nick out of his near trance, and after a couple of
seconds he slipped the blue over-shirt off so that she could easily
access his arm.  As usual, he remained still while she prepared his arm
and then slowly gave him the injection.  She again mentioned he could
tell her to stop, but again he felt like he was losing control.  The
most he could do was shut his eyes, wait for her to finish, and hope any
effects passed quickly.  He knew he needed it, but...

Removing the needle, Fraiser noticed Nick hadn't pulled away like he
usually did.  In fact, he had become unusually tense, even for him.  "Is
something wrong?"

"I'll be fine," he forced out on autopilot, not even opening his eyes.

"Hmm.  I wish you'd tell me how you actually feel sometime," she
suggested, hoping he might give her a 'maybe' or an 'okay', but he said
nothing.  He didn't so much as look at her.  "And I do expect you to
tell me whether you think you need more sedative or more blood."

Nick tensed at the last words.  More blood.  While it was probably what
he needed, he suspected another slight increase would only sharpen his
senses--and make him want and need even more.  Despite her giving him
more blood than he had had in years, his body still felt starved.  Every
little increase teased his instincts.  What he needed was for his doses
to level out.  Or, what he probably *really* needed was an IV of blood
to bring him back to full strength, but he knew that would never be
approved.

"Nick?  Will you, or do I need to increase the frequency of your
check-ups?"

The threat allowed him to focus and reply, "Only if necessary, and you
don't need to change the schedule."

He heard another 'hmm' from her, yet another reaction that reminded him
of his past.  Natalie had often done that when she suspected he was
lying or in some way holding back.  Lost in his fleeting memories, he
only vaguely paid attention to Fraiser as she left.  His eyes stared
down once more on what he had been working on, but the nearby sounds of
many beating hearts made the words and symbols blur.

As minutes passed, Nick gave up trying to focus on his work and closed
his eyes instead.  His taut muscles were itching to react, and his
heightened senses zoned in on Dr. Jackson's quickening heart.  He
thought of leaving, but there were even more people in the hall.  If
only Daniel would leave, or at least return to his own work, but instead
the mortal's heart merely beat louder...closer.  Hearing a couple of
accompanying footsteps, Nick tightly gripped the edge of the table and
focused on holding on with all his willpower.  Jackson stopped his
approach, but didn't relax.  Nick could still hear the mortal's heart
pounding so very close.

Nick winced when his fangs descended, slicing into his lower lip.  The
blood he tasted didn't make him instantly queasy like the other times he
had momentarily lost control, but this time was different in other ways
as well.  He didn't simply feel on-edge, or feel a passing wave of
hunger; his craving for blood was actually building, literally, as
seconds passed.  The sharp and immediate nausea had previously made it
easy to push his hunger away.  With it now missing, he couldn't risk
leaving the room until this raging need for blood waned.

Daniel, meanwhile, had been watching Nick struggle with...something.  To
him it looked like the other man was in pain or struggling to remain
standing, seeing how he had hold of the table's edge, his head bowed and
eyes closed.  After waiting and seeing little change over the course of
several minutes, he then carefully approached, walking up to his side,
and asked, "Are you all right?"

Nick couldn't answer, all his focus on keeping hold of the nice solid
edge of the table.  With Jackson within reach, his body's want for blood
skyrocketed.  He couldn't remember when he last felt this way--not any
time within the last few years, that was for sure.  He had forgotten
just how strong the need for blood could be.

Daniel slowly approached closer, his back almost up to the table's edge
so he could get a better look at the other man.  "Do you want me to call
Fraiser and have her come back?" he asked, but once again all the other
man did in response was tense further.  "If you don't say something, I'm
going to call her."

Nick's muscles tensed again when the mortal got a little too close, his
sleeve touching his arm.  His grip on the table faltered, his body
relaxing for a split second.  He shifted ever so slightly and zoned in
on Jackson, whom he abruptly pinned back against the table.

For the first time, Daniel felt genuinely frightened of Nick, and yet
even with having the vampire's fangs bared at him and golden, almost
amber coloured eyes locked on him, he could feel that Nick was neither
pulling him closer nor pushing him away.  He was desperately trying to
hold back, fighting to stay in control.  "Please, let me go and I'll
get--"

Nick moved one hand to Jackson's neck, cutting off his response.  He
nearly struck, nearly fed from his target, the hot flesh of the hand
that now tried to pull his own hand away barely noticeable to him.  The
scent of the mortal's blood became warmer and stronger, the potent aroma
tinged with tantalising fear.

"You don't want to do this," Daniel managed, his voice slightly higher
than usual as Nick moved closer, the grip on his neck changing.
"Whatever you're feeling is probably a result of the injection Fraiser
gave you.  Let me get her to come back here."

Nick stared hungrily at Jackson's neck.  He didn't strike; the true
words striking home.  No, he didn't want to do this--he would very
possibly kill Jackson if he took his blood in this state--and he knew
how he currently felt was indeed linked to the extra--but still
inadequate--amount of blood.

He slowly leaned forward, but instead of biting into the other man's
flesh, he closed his eyes and bowed his head in an attempt to regain at
least a modicum of control.  He managed it, but knew his situation had
become worse.  He felt weak from holding back.  "Go," he whispered
practically right in Jackson's ear.  "Call if you want, but leave.
Quickly."  Then with a slight shove, Nick moved away along the table,
his eyes still fixed on the mortal.

Daniel felt both relieved and concerned when the vampire released him,
and he backed slowly away.  "Thank you.  Now, I'm going to get Fraiser,
all right?"

"And leave," Nick repeated.

Daniel backed away, keeping his attention on Nick while he went for the
phone and dialled the infirmary.

Nick broke his gaze as he half collapsed and half intentionally knelt by
the far counter.  He barely heard Jackson's call, let alone whoever had
picked up.  He hoped Fraiser would have enough sense not to rush at him.
He wasn't safe.  Suddenly realising Jackson wasn't leaving, but
approaching once more, he tried to back away further, but he couldn't.
Cornered, he again had to rein in his instincts, which were now primed
to kill out of fear rather than solely for blood.

"It's all right.  Fraiser is on her way," Daniel said, stopping a few
feet away from him and kneeling, hoping to lessen the other man's
heightened defences.

"I told you to leave," Nick stated, not even trying to hide his
still-descended fangs.

"I'm not leaving.  I can help you."

Nick was about to protest, but froze when Daniel rolled up his left
sleeve.  A knife appeared in his other hand.  Once again Nick found
himself unable to speak, and he shook his head.  If the mortal cut into
his skin, drew blood, he wouldn't be able to resist the offered nectar.

"It's what you need, isn't it?  Blood?" Daniel asked, but didn't get a
response, other than a strange unreadable expression.  "Fraiser is on
her way.  You won't hurt me, and you certainly won't have time to kill
me, if that's what you're thinking."

When Nick continued to stare at him, Daniel braced himself before
cutting into his wrist.  It wasn't the pain that made him hesitate, but
the idea of being bitten by a genuine vampire in mere moments--and
volunteering for it.

He set any reservations aside and deliberately drew the knife across his
skin with a suppressed flinch.  He set the knife back on the table, then
moved slowly closer, bright blood coming to the surface, instantly
drawing Nick's gaze.  "Here.  It's what you need," he repeated.

Nick managed to stare at the freshly drawn blood welling up in the wound
for several seconds before his hunger won.  He snatched the offered
wrist, first merely taking a small taste of the blood, fearing it would
make him queasy even though his own blood hadn't.  Feeling nothing but
the wonderful flavour, he let his fangs sink into the mortal's wrist so
that he could get more than a trickle.  He quickly lost himself in the
life-giving liquid, yet the more he drank of the sweet ambrosia, the
more he felt the nausea that had been strangely absent creep back, first
mildly...and then more severely, to the point that it abruptly forced
him to stop feeding, despite that he knew he wanted and needed the
blood.

Having his wrist suddenly released far sooner than he expected, Daniel
became concerned when Nick pushed him back and fell forward.  Once more
the vampire appeared to be in pain.  "What's wrong?"

Nick waited for the queasiness to pass, but it merely got worse.  Now,
in addition, he began to feel lightheaded and weak.  He had been better
off before he had tasted the mortal's blood.

"Nick?"

Sensing a hand on his shoulder and getting hit by a whiff of Jackson's
blood, Nick simultaneously tried to push himself back up and pull away.
Apparently that had been a bad idea.  The combined nausea and dizziness
sent him flat on his back.  And he still felt so very hungry.

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

He saw Daniel hovering over him, the mortal's form tinged red by his
starved state.  The distorted sight merely intensified his nausea, and
he rolled to face away from the strange apparition.  How much time had
passed since he'd lost control?  How much longer before Dr. Fraiser
would get there?  What would she do to help him?  Even he didn't know
what was wrong.  He hadn't properly ingested blood for years, but now it
was welling up in his mouth and he felt like passing out.  The fresh
from the source blood should have helped him, but it might as well have
been poison.

Daniel tried to turn him back onto his back, but the other man turned
further away from him and was now almost face down.

"Daniel?  What happened?" Fraiser asked upon entering and finding him
kneeling behind Nick, who was lying on the floor.

He stood to move out of the way.  "I'm not sure.  He's--"

"Oh, God," Fraiser said when she saw the bleeding wounds on Daniel's
wrist.  She reached forward and grabbed his hand.

"Don't worry about me.  I'm all right.  It'll be fine.  Right?"

Fraiser studied the skin around the wound, then slowly nodded.  "It's
not bleeding, but you are definitely going to the infirmary," she said,
then reluctantly released his hand and turned toward Nick.  "Now, what
happened?  Is this from what I gave him just a little while ago?"

"I'm not sure, but I think so," he answered while she knelt behind her
patient.  "He clearly needed blood.  Probably still does.  He wanted me
to leave."

Fraiser touched Nick's shoulder, expecting him to push her away or at
least tense, but he remained still.  "Nick?" she said, rolling him back
a little, at which she saw a puddle of blood on the floor, a line of
blood coming from the corner of his mouth to his jaw.  His eyes were
open, but he didn't shift his gaze.  Only when she rolled him back
further did he react, closing his eyes, coughing, and trying to again
lie on his side, at which she helped him into position.  "Nick, can you
tell me what happened?" she asked, but he seemed almost comatose.

She brushed his hair back, figuring he'd at least react to that.  When
he didn't, she pursed her lips, rested her hand on his shoulder for a
moment, then stood and turned to Daniel.  "How much blood did he take
from you?"

"Ah, not much, I don't think.  He stopped shortly after he bit."

"So you didn't pass out or--"

"I felt lightheaded for a couple of seconds, but that was it.  Then he
stopped."

"I want to know every detail of what happened--but only after you both
get checked out."  She watched Daniel nod, then start to leave.  "Uh-uh,
you are not leaving my sight.  Just sit and wait for the time being."

Daniel reluctantly did so, watching the doctor give instructions to the
nurse who had accompanied her.  With Nick either unconscious or at least
incapable of walking to the infirmary on his own, he would require
assistance in order to be moved, and Fraiser hadn't brought a gurney or
stretcher.

Daniel waited and then followed along to the infirmary after more
medical personnel arrived, where he ended up waiting even longer after
she had given his wrist another glance before deciding who needed her
attention the most.

First Fraiser quickly checked Nick's life-signs, which definitely showed
something was off.  His respiratory rate and pulse were practically
non-existent, his temperature a touch lower than previous readings.  He
also no longer appeared merely zoned out, but completely unconscious.

Then she called Hammond.  Daniel could easily hear her side of the
conversation, which mostly consisted of requesting the past hour of
video from his lab and getting permission to give her patient more blood
via an IV.  Both requests were approved, and Daniel watched Fraiser set
up the latter.  When she came back to clean up his own wounds, he asked,
"He'll be all right, won't he?"

"Probably."

"Was it something I did?"

"I have no more idea of what happened than you do," Fraiser admitted
while exhaling.  She started to disinfect his wounds and quickly noticed
the cut seemed far more painful than the punctures.  "Next time don't
make such a large cut.  And no, you didn't do any long term damage--nor
did he."  She moved away, retrieving supplies to bandage the wound.
"Now, hold still," she said and first took care of the cut, which
required stitches--she wanted to make sure it would heal cleanly--and
then bandaged the entire area.  "There.  Now, I want you to go eat
something--regardless of how you feel."

"He all right?"

Both Daniel and Fraiser turned at Jack's voice and found Sam there as
well.  "Daniel will be fine," Fraiser assured him.

"He lose control?" Jack asked with a nod toward Nick.

Daniel shook his head.  "No, Jack, he...  All right, he was heading in
that direction.  But I called Fraiser before I--"

"Before you *what*, Daniel?"

"I knew what I was doing.  I knew I could end up unconscious--"

"Did you?" Jack continued.

"No, something went wrong.  It never got that far.  Fraiser would have
gotten there in a few more seconds, anyway."

"But he bit you or--"

"I cut myself," Daniel said to Sam's question.  "He clearly needed
blood.  I don't think he had any choice once I drew blood."

"That true, Doc?" Jack asked, shifting his attention off Daniel.

"In his weakened state, I don't think Nick could possibly have refused
any blood offered to him.  Kind of like holding water out to someone in
the desert."

"It's not his fault, Jack," Daniel said, wanting to try and assure the
colonel that Nick hadn't attacked him, even though it had started off
that way.  "He told me to leave; I didn't.  It was my choice to stay and
try to help him, and I'm okay."

"Is that right?  He really is okay?" Jack again directed to Fraiser.

"From what I can tell, yes," she answered.  "I do want him to eat
something, though," she said pointedly to Daniel.  "Or at least not skip
lunch.  Then I need you back here for a more thorough exam."

Daniel went to protest, but didn't get a chance.

"Just to make sure you're okay long before your next mission."

Sam had slowly walked toward where Nick lay in one of the infirmary
beds, her eyes drawn to the dark red IV of whole blood.  The bag seemed
awfully low.  "Janet?  Does something--"

Fraiser turned and saw what Sam was nodding at--Nick's IV bag...which
was far from full.  "All right.  All of you--out," she said and half
shooed the three out, with a reminder to Daniel that she wanted him to
come back later.  Once relatively alone, she turned her attention back
to her least understood patient.

When Nick had been moved, she had tried not to jostle him too much, so
even now he still lay mostly on his right side, exactly as he had in
Daniel's lab.  While tempted to switch his clothes out for medical
scrubs--which she'd have done with any other patient in an equivalent
condition--she didn't want him to wake up in the middle of that.  She
also didn't have time before the blood supply feeding his IV line would
need to be replenished, but she did go ahead and remove his boots.

Fraiser didn't know what to think about how the his body literally
pulled the blood in.  One thing was certain, though.  Either he'd wake
soon or she'd have to give him a lot more blood.  Before hanging up
another bag, she called Hammond and asked him to come to the infirmary.
He already knew roughly from Security what had happened, and by the time
she had switched the now empty bag of O-negative with a full one from
the dwindling supply of blood set aside specifically for Nick, he had
found his way there.

"Is he sedated?" Hammond asked with a nod toward Nick.

"No, and Sir, I'd really like to keep it that way.  I'd also like to
give him as much blood as he can tolerate."

While not outright stated, Hammond knew what that would mean.  Parker
would be at full strength.  He couldn't help but be a little nervous at
the thought of a full-strength vampire on the base with relatively free
rein.

"He'll probably be safer to be around if he's not half-starved, and I
don't think he'll try to escape.  He hasn't even come close to trying,
not even testing what levels he is and is not allowed on.  From what I
can tell, he seems almost content to stay here."

That Hammond had already guessed.  He had watched Parker's movements
enough to feel this wouldn't be too drastic a change.  "And if he does
try to leave?"

"A Zat and tranquilliser should still stop him if necessary."  She could
literally see him thinking, considering the full implications of the
situation.  "Sir, I know it's--"

"Do what you feel is most appropriate--most appropriate for everyone's
safety here."

"So I have your permission--"

"Yes, Doctor, you have my permission to give him anything you think will
help."

"Thank you, General."

"I take it Dr. Jackson is all right?"

"From what I could tell, yes.  I'm going to run some tests later, but
I'm pretty sure everything will come back fine."

"Did he tell you what happened?  From what I heard, Parker didn't simply
collapse, but attacked or nearly attacked him first."

Fraiser hesitated.  She had shooed Daniel out when she had seen how low
the bag of blood had been rather than ask him for more details about
what happened.  She hadn't really heard anything about what happened
before he had called her, except that Daniel could tell Nick needed
blood and he had tried very hard to avoid admitting the vampire had
indeed lost control.  "Not all the details, but I have a general idea.
And I don't think any of us will know for sure until he wakes up," she
said with a nod toward Nick.

"Assuming he tells you."

"Yes, but I think he will."

"Let's hope he does."

"Why?"

"After what I heard about what happened and what I've seen, I want a
full explanation if he intends to stay."

"If?"

"Do you know how he's going to react to this?" he said with a nod toward
the easily visible unit of blood hung up by the bed.

"Not precisely..." Fraiser admitted.

"If he becomes unmanageable, that'll be the end of his stay here.  Make
sure he understands that."

Fraiser nodded.  While she hoped that wouldn't be the case--she had
rather begun to like the challenge, the change--it was still a
possibility.  Of course there was no information on what amount of blood
a vampire normally drank per day, so she'd have to either guess or try
to get Nick to tell her.  And he did not like talking about either his
past or what he was--including his physiology.

"Please update me on his and Jackson's conditions, and on Parker's
explanation of what happened.  If he's not willing to tell you, tell him
that I at least want the full story of what happened."  Hammond got a
nod then nearly left, only to hesitate in front of the door.  "And be
careful."

"Oh, I will," she quickly assured him just before he left, then she
repeated the words in a whisper to herself once he had gone.  She had
learned her lesson with Nick before--go slow unless backing away.  For
now, all she could do was wait either for her patient to wake or for the
IV bag to empty again.



A Trial Run - (10/32)

"So, I'm fine, right?" Daniel asked late that night after eating lunch,
going back to the infirmary for tests, explaining to General Hammond
what had happened, trying to work for a bit, eating again, and yet again
trying to work.  Fraiser didn't answer, her attention on Nick.  "Right?"

The doctor tried a bit longer to listen to her patient's heart, but she
didn't have much luck and turned around with a sigh.

"Is something wrong?"

"With you?  No, there's nothing wrong with you, other than your wrist,
and while you did far more damage than he did, it'll heal fine."  She
sighed again, closing her eyes, and then slowly turned back to face her
unconscious patient.  "He, however...  His temperature has dropped two
degrees, and his pulse and respiratory rate are even more non-existent
than they already were.  I just hope that's normal for him.  If not...I
have no idea what it means."

"But I thought you had medical records from--"

"I do, but he has--  Nothing matches except the fact that he only needs
to breathe while he's conscious.  They had always kept him on a small
but steady ration of blood, and the sedatives...I think it's clear they
were doing more than simply 'sedating' him, although it is probably the
best description.  After the sixth unit, I tried ceasing the blood and
letting him heal on his own, but he actually became less responsive.  He
completely stopped breathing and his brain functions dropped off,
which--"  She shook her head. "Activity picked back up after I resumed
the IV."

"But he's not--"

"I removed the leads," she said, sighing.  "Right now, he's on his ninth
unit of blood and hasn't stirred in the slightest.  That is at least
going more slowly now--which I think is a good sign--but I've used up
all the extra blood that was set aside specifically for him and had to
start using the base supply...which also means no more O-negative."

"There's--"

"For him," she quickly specified.  "He can take any type, unlike most
humans, but the extra blood provided to me for him was all O-negative.
Again, I wish I knew what was normal for those like him.  And I wish I
knew if I'm doing more harm than good.  Just looking at him, he
physically looks better--unless that's just my imagination--but beyond
that...  Another couple of units and I'll have given him as much blood
as you or I have in our bodies.  If he were human..."

"But he's not."

"Exactly.  And blood, as far as I can tell, is the only necessary
nourishment or fluid he needs, but obviously his body is able
to...convert it or something.  And right now, whole blood seems to be
what he needs, but not too much more, I hope.  I'm also assuming that
when he wakes, he'll be able to guess what his normal intake should be,
if not actually know."

"You think he might?" Daniel asked, curious.  He highly doubted any of
those like Nick would know; staying away from medical personnel was
probably a good idea for their kind.  Then he remembered some of this
particular vampire's background.  "Oh, I see.  You're hoping his medical
experience--"

"Means he'll at least be familiar with basic readings and measurements.
And with how he seems uninterested in what I might find by testing his
blood, I'd bet either he's run his own tests at some point, or someone
he trusted did and he knows the results."

"His friend in Toronto..." Daniel realised.

"Exactly.  If she knew what Nick was..."

"Which is--"

"More or less confirmed.  And if I were her, I'd certainly be curious
and want to know more," she said, then nodded toward her patient.
"Judging from his behaviour, he is fully accustomed to having his blood
drawn.  He had to have become used to it before his time at Nellis; he
was always unconscious when they took their blood samples.  And while
he's not fond of getting check-ups, he seems accustomed to that as well.
If she knew what he was, it's possible she used her medical background
to learn more about him, and if he trusted her, if they were indeed
close friends, he probably let her.  Or that's what would make sense.
But if he did...I just hope he knows what's normal for him.  I'd rather
not have to guess and possibly make things even worse."

Daniel nodded then walked around Fraiser and closer to Nick.  "So he
hasn't woke up yet?"

"Nope.  And no sign of when he might, either."

Glancing at his watch, Daniel read nine-fifteen.  "Are you staying?"

"Yes.  I want to keep him here at least until he wakes, if not longer."

"If you'd like some sleep, I can stay."

Fraiser nearly said no, but nodded.  She suspected Nick would react
better to finding Daniel watching him if he woke than to one of the
nurses.  "Just wake me if he wakes or the bag needs changing, which will
need to be done again soon, so I'll wait until I've done that.  You also
might want to go get something to do if you're staying."

Daniel absently nodded as the doctor walked away to get another unit of
blood, his gaze on Nick.  While unconscious and utterly relaxed, pain
still tinged the vampire's features.  Daniel didn't mind staying.  He
might have, anyway.

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

Daniel's stay turned out to be exceptionally boring.  Nick didn't so
much as twitch an eyelid and the blood emptied from the IV bag ever
slower.  After the second time he had woken Fraiser, she had told him he
could go ahead and leave, that she'd be staying up.  He had hesitated,
but did so after she assured him Nick wouldn't be sent back to Nellis
before he returned.  There wasn't enough time to arrange it, anyway.

After that, she was left with the limited night staff.  It was still
barely four in the morning, but the several hours of sleep split between
the two naps had been quite refreshing.  Checking Nick's temperature and
pulse only made her worry, however, even though they weren't much
different than the last time she had checked.  It didn't change the fact
that he had been unconscious now for going on sixteen hours.  That
concerned her, considering his supposedly rather astonishing
regenerative capabilities.  She supposed that meant--at least
subconsciously--he trusted them.

As another couple hours passed, Fraiser checked the still over half-full
bag and the IV line, the level virtually unchanged since the last time
she had checked.  She pulled back instinctively when Nick's left arm
twitched.  His eyes were locked on her, although only partially.  After
eighteen hours of him being in a death-like state, she felt thrilled,
and couldn't help but smile.  "Good to see you awake again.  I was
really starting to worry."

Nick simply stared up at the mortal.  He felt a bit off, almost high on
blood, but not hungry like he had been after his injections.  In fact,
he could smell blood, his eyes shifting to the red-filled plastic tube
that went to his arm.

Fraiser noticed.  "That needs to stay in for now."

Nick turned his arm a little, uncomfortable with the idea of having
something attached to him, let alone an IV of blood.  Most things jabbed
in his skin caused more itching than pain.  It was reflex to touch the
area, move it.

"If I have to sedate you so you won't rip it out, I will.  Got that?"

He stopped shifting his arm, willing himself to ignore the annoying
needle and tape.  He didn't want to stay here any longer than necessary.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Nick's eyes slid away from the doctor.  "Vaguely," he whispered,
Jackson's concerned features flashing in his memory.  And pain.  Blood.
"Is Dr. Jackson all right?" he asked, his voice louder and his attention
back on Fraiser.  "Did I--"

"Daniel is fine.  Better than you, probably, although I can't say for
sure."

Nick zoned out a little, having trouble processing the simple comment.
Why didn't she know how he was doing?

"Since we started the IV, your body temperature has dropped and is now
out of the range I was provided.  Several of your other measurable life
signs have also changed, and I have no idea what that means for your
overall health."

He moved his arm again, his eyes on the IV setup.  "How much blood have
you given me?"

Fraiser held back a smile at the chance to see what he knew.  "That's
the twelfth unit of whole blood."

The high number surprised Nick.  He knew he had needed blood, but the
amount...  Usually he only needed one or two units, perhaps three.  At
least in the immediate.  He could certainly believe six or seven, but
twelve units at a little less than half a litre each was a lot of blood,
especially since it sounded like he had been unconscious the whole time.
He didn't remember waking at all, but if she had given him that much
blood, at least a few hours must have passed.  "Twelve?" he asked,
wondering if he had somehow heard wrong.  "But that's five and a half--"

"Litres, yes," Fraiser confirmed with a slow nod.

"And you're going to give me more?"

"You were unconscious for eighteen hours.  It took that much blood just
to wake you, and it barely managed that.  I'm certainly not going to
stop with you barely recovered, assuming you're recovered at all,
considering that your responses are still a bit slow."  She paused to
let him process that, then asked, "How much do you know about your
normal physiology, what's normal for you?"

"Why?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"As I said, your temperature, pulse, etc., are no longer in the range I
was given.  If you know what's normal for you, either regarding those
numbers or how much blood you need per day, I'd much prefer that over
trying to guess."

"Do you have--"

"Permission to give you as much blood as is needed to bring you back to
full strength?  Yes."

"I could lie."

"You could," Fraiser carefully said, sensing that she had somehow lost
control of the conversation yet again.  "But if you did, I'm sure the
lie would be discovered."

"Eventually."

She didn't quite like his almost sarcastic tone, but went ahead and
again asked, "So, how much do you know about your physiology?"

"A...bit."

Fraiser smiled; perhaps it hadn't been sarcasm a moment ago.  His new
response was almost teasing.  He was holding back and, if she were to
guess, certainly knew more than 'a bit' about his physiology.  "Right
now, I'm most concerned about your body temperature.  For most of your
stay it's been approximately ninety-one.  Your latest reading was
eighty-eight point six."

"That's not a problem."

"What is it usually--roughly?"

"Roughly...eighty-nine," he hesitantly answered.  "A little above or
below."

"Good, thank you.  I'm also a little worried about your pulse, your
heart-rate.  When you came here I could just discern a slow, faint, but
regular pulse, along with a far more sporadic, but normal sounding beat,
but now I can only hear the latter."

"That's fine," Nick said.

"Which part?  That it's irregular or--"

"Sporadic, not irregular.  Your machines should register something every
ten minutes or so."

"Well, I won't do that unless you let me.  I take it the other is not
normal, or...?"

"It's normal, yes, but it's not typically perceptible to humans.  I'm
surprised you were aware of it."

Fraiser took that as a 'no'.  "Again, thank you for answering," she told
him, wondering if the basis for his statement had been research by his
friend in Toronto or from others.  "Now I'd like you to rest, but you
should know that General Hammond understandably wants an explanation of
what happened.  Either you can tell me and I'll relay the information to
him, or you can tell him directly--your choice.  Think about that for a
while, along with how much blood you need per day.  And remember what I
said about the IV."

Nick pulled back a little when the doctor turned and left.  He would
rather have gotten it over with, but when he tried to recall exactly
what happened, he found he only had vague, fragmented memories and,
finally, the hunger...which was now blissfully absent.

He shifted his left arm up in front of his chest, rolling forward to lie
more fully on his side.  He stared at where the needle was taped, even
prodded it a bit with his other hand, but took care to ensure he didn't
remove it.  Finding out he had been unconscious for three-fourths of a
day only intensified his dislike of being sedated.  He assumed he hadn't
been given any sedatives during the time he was unconscious, but the
mere thought of it made him almost angry.  He pushed the feeling away
quickly, though.  Powerful but fleeting emotions like this were normal
and would be his price for allowing Fraiser to give him a proper amount
of blood.

He'd have to think carefully about the amount he told the doctor he
needed as a daily quota.  Too much or too little and he'd end up
distracted at best, dangerous at worst.  And when he specified an
amount, he knew she'd ask how the taste of blood made him feel.  Unless
something had changed while he recovered, he wouldn't be able to drink
it, which could make getting enough blood complicated.

Nick stared out into the infirmary as a whole, then let his gaze follow
the young doctor around the room and his senses amplify any
conversations into crystal clarity.  If he were given a steady but
decent amount of blood--human blood at that--he would soon feel stronger
than he had in a good century or more.  Before then, vampires--including
himself--often had either a feast or famine; it was possible he'd feel
like he never had before.  That made him nervous.  He couldn't give Dr.
Fraiser or General Hammond any guarantee about his guess, since it
really would be only a guess.  Unless she'd be willing to give him cow's
blood; he knew how much of that he needed per day.

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

"So the dose of blood I gave you yesterday around noon somehow triggered
your need for blood, the increase being both too much and too little,"
Fraiser surmised after Nick started his explanation later that day.

"It's hard to explain, but...yeah, more or less," he mumbled.

"Then your instincts took over.  You went for Daniel because he was
right there, because he approached, but you let him go soon after," she
stated, trying to clarify what he knew for sure had happened, then push
a bit further, but either he didn't know or much of his reaction had
been pure instinct.  This, however, was also where Nick had become
stuck.  She knew most of what had happened, but not his side of the
story, which was needed to better understand the rest.  "Nick?  Then
what happened?  How did you feel?  What did you do?"

"I told Dr. Jackson to leave--again--when he went to call you.
Then...then I knelt, out of weakness and to try to distance myself from
him, from...temptation."

"All right, then what?"

"I don't really remember the details," Nick admitted.

"That's okay.  Just tell me what you do remember."

"He didn't leave.  I tried to stay away, but he came closer and knelt in
front of me.  He rolled up his sleeve and...I remember him pulling out a
knife.  I don't remember if I told him no, shook my head, or just froze
when I realised what he intended to do."

Fraiser waited patiently, but he had stopped speaking again.  "And then
Dr. Jackson used the knife and cut himself, right?"

"Yes," he whispered, but didn't elaborate.

"And then?"

Nick waited a long moment, exhaling to calm his mind before replying,
"He held out his bleeding wrist, offering it to me.  And...and I took
it.  With how I felt, I couldn't stop myself.  I just...I couldn't."

Fraiser relaxed a little at the confirmation of her and Daniel's
suspicion that Nick had had little, if any, choice once the fresh blood
had been offered.  Now, however, they were up to the point where only he
really knew what had happened.  Worse, she guessed his memory might be
muddled about everything from this point until the time he passed out.
"Do you remember how much blood you took?"

She watched him slowly shake his head.

"Was it only the blood that came from the knife wound, or did you..."

"I bit into his wrist.  I know I bit into his wrist."

"All right.  Now, did you take...a little?  A lot?  Somewhere in
between?"

Nick shook his head again.  He really didn't remember.  "I don't know."

"That's all right," she assured him, while fighting the urge to lean
nearer.  "Why did you stop?  Do you remember that?  And what happened
after you stopped?"

Nick met the mortal's gaze.  He did remember this, but had mixed
feelings about answering.  "I felt...ill.  Nauseous.  Dizzy.  Weak.  And
ravenous."

"Before or after--"

"The nausea started while...  It's what made me stop.  The rest was
there already, but worsened along with the nausea."  He took another
deep breath.  "That's all I remember...until I woke up here."

That he had felt nauseous at least made sense; she had seen the blood on
the floor.  He must not have been able to keep it down.  "Is the nausea
entirely gone now?"

"Yes," he said while again averting his eyes.

"Have you ever had that happen before, either the nausea or passing
out?"

"Not like that, no."

"But you--"

"I've passed out several times from the injections.  I'm sure you
already know that."

Fraiser tensed a little.  She did indeed know that, but his 'not like
that' made her wonder.  "And the nausea?"  When Nick tensed, she
guessed, "That's not new either, is it?"

"The severity was new, but the nausea itself...no."

"When have you felt it before?"

Nick took a long time to think, to decide, before answering, "Any time
I've tasted blood recently."

"Any time?" Fraiser asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.  She didn't
know of any time he might have ingested any blood.  "What do you mean?
When was that?"

"Sometimes...sometimes after one of the injections...I'd change--I
couldn't help it, it would just happen--and my fangs would cut into my
lip."

"How long has that been happening--the nausea?"

"Since I've been here.  It didn't happen at Nellis, but I was shut off
in a room of my own while I was there...especially recently."

"And your medication was given slightly differently and more regularly
than we've done here lately.  Our recent experiments with that probably
haven't helped, either."  She had hoped to lighten the mood a bit, but
Nick remained super tense.  "I suppose the nausea means you won't be
able to actually drink the ration we decided on, right?"

Nick shook his head.  Unless the nausea miraculously vanished, there was
no possibility of drinking half a litre of blood a day.

"Infusing that much will take a while, if the last couple of bags are
any indication," she said, nodding at the latest unit of blood, which
didn't seem anxious to empty.  That gave her an idea, however.  "Do you
know how to set this up?" Fraiser asked with another nod to the bag
overhead.

"I...might."

"I'm not asking where you learned how, but simply if you could, say,
start an IV for someone--or for yourself--if need be."

Nick hesitated for a few seconds, but nodded.  "Yes."

"All right, now...  Have you ever drawn your own blood and/or given
yourself an injection?"

Nick tensed, but since she didn't appear to want specifics, answered,
"Yes...to both."

"What about basic human anatomy, particularly the cardiopulmonary
system?  How familiar are you with that?"

"I don't know what...  A little, I suppose, but I'm not a doctor."

"I think 'a little' will do for what I have in mind."

"Which is?"

"You'll find out tomorrow.  Maybe.  For now, you should rest some more,"
she said.  She got down off the stool on which she had been sitting and
moved it out of the way.  She was startled to feel a hand on her arm and
turned abruptly.  It was Nick, and he didn't pull his hand back right
away, which doubly surprised her.  She couldn't recall when he had ever
done this.  "Hmm?" she started, then glanced over at the propped-up
hospital bed.  The head had been raised so he could sit up.  "Do you
want me to adjust that so you can sleep?"

"No, I don't need more sleep," he whispered and finally let go of her
arm.

She waited, but he didn't continue or ask his question.  "Is there
something you wanted to ask?"

Nick's lips parted to reply, but he froze before beginning to speak.  He
wanted her and Jackson to know he was sorry for what he had done, but it
sounded as if he would likely have a chance to tell Daniel himself.  And
while he was tempted to instead ask whether Daniel would truly be okay,
Fraiser had already given him an answer.  If he wanted to know more, he
could always ask the other man himself.

"Nick?"

"I'm fine.  And I'm sorry...I forgot what I wanted to say," he lied,
letting his gaze drift away.  He heard her remind him to get some rest
and not hesitate if he remembered his question.  Despite practically
hearing her smile, Nick couldn't manage to return one.

He absently fiddled with the IV line for a few minutes until he
inadvertently lifted the tape on one side.  He smoothed it back down and
tried to simply sit still.  Perhaps he should have asked if she could
bring him something to do.  Hours would pass before he felt like
sleeping, and while he didn't want to pull out the IV, he worried he
might anyway out of sheer boredom.

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

"All right, now," Fraiser started late that evening while undoing the IV
and setting it off to the side.  "This is against my better judgement,
but I know you heal much faster than...others, and whether here or in
your quarters, you can be monitored just as easily."

"I don't have to stay here overnight?" Nick asked, surprised.  He had
asked an hour or so ago and been brushed off.  "I can leave now and
return to my room?"

"You certainly can."  She paused and watched him almost light up at the
thought of leaving.  "Assuming you can get there, and if you promise to
tell me if you feel any nausea or dizziness."

Nick froze after sitting more fully up and hearing the second condition.
It wasn't that big of a deal, however.  He had already told her, and
once fortified by infused blood, he'd have no reason to try drinking
more any time soon, nor would he likely change so abruptly that he drew
his own blood.  "I'll get there."

"And you will become my very best, most communicative patient?"

"If I have anything to say," Nick replied vaguely, but it seemed to be
an adequate response, since she moved back away so he could stand and
leave.  He did so carefully, feeling that her gaze was trying to catch
something, perhaps a hint of dizziness or unsteadiness.  He waited a
moment, then she nodded.  Yes, she had been watching for his reaction.

He headed to the door, at which he picked up a follower, a soldier
outside the infirmary entrance.  The man followed him a few steps behind
and next to him in the elevator the entire way back to his room.
Getting close to his quarters, Nick searched his pockets hoping he still
had the key card.  He did, and used it to unlock his door and once again
escape to blissful solitude.

Not that he had noticed anyone in the halls other than his security
guard.  A few people had looked at him a bit oddly, but he expected he
knew why.  He hadn't shaved for at least two days, probably closer to
three, and after spending more than a day in the infirmary, he probably
looked rather scruffy from his uncombed hair to his rumpled clothes.

Besides that, his passing out might have been considered newsworthy to
the gossip-mongers.  A large portion of those at the base knew him as
Dr. Nicholas Parker, a researcher and translator.  Those here couldn't
talk much about what they did away from work, so he had heard them talk
among themselves about him.  He was often compared to Dr. Jackson, and
people wondered why he hadn't been assigned to an SG team, or if he'd
ever been through the stargate or ever would.  They also wondered what
was wrong with him, due to his frequent visits to the infirmary, and--up
until recently--his not very friendly chaperones.  The assumption was he
had some illness that required constant supervision.  He supposed his
recent infirmary stay would merely confirm that there was something
medically wrong with him.

The very first thing Nick did upon entering his room was pull a fresh
shirt and boxers out of the dresser.  He headed to the bathroom, took a
long shower, redressed, and then stared at his meagre reflection,
electric shaver in hand.  No wonder he had gotten so many extra glances.
His still somewhat groggy expression had combined with his overall
scruffy countenance to give him a rather more dangerous appearance than
usual.  He hesitated before shaving off the substantial stubble--he
faintly considered leaving some of it--but in a few minutes he was back
to being clean-shaven.

Drying off his face, however, Nick froze at his faded, barely visible
reflection.  It wasn't only that he was back to being normal for here,
but the man now staring back was someone he hadn't seen for years.  At
Nellis they had kept his hair shorter, trimming it to the same all-over
short-ish length every month.  It hadn't been cut since the time before
that first time he had met Dr. Jackson in person.  That had probably
been a good two or three months ago.  His hair was now nearly the same
length as it had been in Toronto--but that life was long gone.

Although he was essentially a prisoner, he felt almost as comfortable in
this life as he had then.  Almost.  Despite everything that had happened
up until Natalie's death and LaCroix' apparent unwillingness to kill
him, nothing from that point could ever be the same or really compare.
But he did feel reasonably content here, and he supposed at some point
he should attempt to fit in a bit more if he wanted to stay...which it
seemed he would.

Until their last work session together, which had turned into such a
debacle, Dr. Jackson had tried repeatedly to get him to talk to some of
the other researchers.  He, of course, had kept making excuses.  And now
he didn't even know how Daniel himself felt about continuing to work
with him.  While his memory was fuzzy, he knew he had come close--very
close--to killing the mortal.  And while Daniel had offered his blood,
given it freely, that didn't mean he was still willing to work with
him...especially now that he'd had a dangerously close look at what he
was.

Several knocks came at the door to his quarters, and Nick snapped out of
his thoughts.  He couldn't tell who it was until his visitor spoke, but
he recognised the voice immediately.

"Hello?  Nick, can I come in?"  There was a slight pause before the
visitor continued, "It's Daniel."  Another pause.  "Hello?"

At first, Nick shut his eyes, but then he quickly started for the door,
shutting off the bathroom light on the way.  Rather than reply, he
simply pulled the door open.  It looked as if his would-be visitor had
been about to give up and leave.

"I can come back tomorrow," Daniel suggested when he saw that Nick was
only semi-dressed, his hair still quite wet.

Nick silently stepped back, letting go of the door.

Daniel slowly entered, closing the door behind him.  The other man's
stony stare made him feel a bit unwelcome.  "So, Fraiser let you leave?"

"I think she would have preferred that I stayed."  He glanced to the
barely visible bandage on Jackson's left wrist.  "How long she keep you
there?"

"Not...long.  But I had to go back a couple of times.  She wants me back
again tomorrow, too."

"For...?"

"Ah, blood tests and results.  More blood tests."

"Because of me," Nick stated glumly.

"Kind of, although I'm a pretty regular pincushion anyway since we have
to be cleared before and after missions, so it's more for work..."

"But if I hadn't--"

"Don't worry about it.  Apparently I did more damage with that knife
than you did--and she was far more concerned about the cut than the
bite.  Either way, I'm fine, and she confirmed it."

"So why have you come here?"

Daniel hesitated, the question sounding almost accusatory--as did the
near glare.  "I just wanted to see that you were all right."

"I'm fine--obviously."

"But you weren't earlier.  You passed out and were unconscious for
nearly a day."

"Eighteen hours."

"Which is probably eighteen hours longer than if you'd simply been
zatted into unconsciousness instead."

Nick didn't have a reply to that.  The mortal was right.  They could
have effectively killed him with a Zat and he'd have woken far earlier.
Maybe.

"Was...what happened...anything I did?"

"No, not really," Nick muttered.

"Not really?  You mean it *was* something I did?"

Nick shrugged, shook his head, and replied, "I might have passed out
regardless," even though he knew what happened surely had something to
do with trying--and failing--to feed.

"But if I hadn't cut my wrist, if I had left, or at least kept my
distance like you wanted, you might not have passed out, right?"

"Possibly.  I don't know."

"I'm sorry I forced you into that situation.  I don't think I gave you
much of a choice."

Nick didn't expect or feel he warranted an apology.  Jackson was the one
with the wound--wounds, really.  The mortal had no idea that he
generally tried to avoid drinking human blood, particularly straight
from the source.  Daniel had done nothing wrong. "No, I didn't have much
of a choice, and I'm sorry for--well, everything."

"But you couldn't have done anything different?  Even before I cut--"

"It doesn't matter," Nick almost snapped.  Then he forced himself to
calm and changed the subject, "So you're cleared for work?  For your
missions?"

"Yep, pretty much."

"When do you leave again?" he asked, wanting to steer their conversation
away from the earlier incident.

"Ah, tomorrow, actually.  So you'll have my lab to yourself.  Unless
you'd be up to working with someone else."

It wasn't a question, but Nick tensed and dropped his gaze.

Seeing the other man's obvious reluctance, Daniel added, "But since
you're probably not--"

"I suppose I could," he said, cutting the mortal off.  He didn't know
why he said it or if he was indeed up to it, but he had.  "Assuming I'm
allowed to do so, and there's anyone available for me to work with."

Surprised, Daniel shifted slightly.  He had been about to leave and
hadn't expected Nick to change his mind about that issue.  "Great.  I'll
see who's free.  And I never would have asked if you wouldn't be allowed
to do so."

"But after yesterday--"

Daniel briefly held up a hand to cut him off.  "As far as I know, the
only thing that has changed is your medical care--unless you've heard
otherwise?"

"No, although I won't know the exact changes regarding my...medical
care...until tomorrow."

"But as I understand it, they won't be giving you any sedatives anymore,
right?"

"Right.  Just blood," Nick confirmed.

Daniel nodded then asked something he wanted to know, "I know Fraiser
gave you a substantial amount of blood...  So how do you feel now?  And
don't say 'fine'.  We both know that's anything but accurate."

Nick kept quiet at first, but he supposed he should answer.  He had told
Fraiser, after all.  She had questioned him before making the decision
to take the IV out.  Jackson would probably find out one way or another.
"Better than I did."

"Better than...last month?  Yesterday morning?  Or--"

"Better than in years."  Nick almost smiled.  "Certainly much better
than since I first got here."

"I can imagine it might be hard...  I mean going from not having much
to--"

"I'm not used to it yet, no," Nick admitted.

"But you'd be all right tomorrow to work with--"

"Yes, I'd be okay to work alone with someone else, if that's what you're
asking.  I don't feel--  I'm probably safer to be around now than when I
was being drugged," he admitted.  "And by 'better' I mean I feel
more...normal, I guess.  More...  I don't know, just different."

"Relaxed?  Calm?" Daniel suggested.  "You do seem far less tense now
compared to before..."

At that, Nick reflexively stiffened.  He hadn't thought the image he was
projecting had changed any, but apparently he was wrong.  He had to
admit that he *did*, in fact, feel much calmer and more relaxed.  And he
supposed it wouldn't be a bad thing if he appeared that way to
others--quite the opposite, actually--but he'd have to get used to it.

"Or you did..."  Daniel reconsidered his statement as he backed slightly
toward the door.  "I should leave you alone.  It's rather late."

Nick glanced at the alarm clock at the mention of the time, and it was
fairly late--nearly ten.  Certainly late for someone who didn't live
there at the SGC.

"I'll leave you a note in my lab if I don't have time to tell you
tomorrow about who you can or might want to work with."

"Assuming there's anyone who's willing to work with me," Nick whispered.

"You're not an outcast here, Nick.  You're not a pariah.  It's normal to
work occasionally with other researchers, other teams.  I don't expect
you'll have any problems, and I think you'll enjoy getting to know some
of the others.  We do have some interesting people here, you know."

Nick nearly reminded Jackson that he was a prisoner.  By definition,
that made him, in fact, a pariah.  Certainly no one else had a guard
tagging along with them most of the time.  And if the other researchers
knew what he was and that he had been locked up for years...

"You must know that people sometimes ask questions about you."  Before
Nick could comment, Daniel added, "And, yes, I know you don't like
questions, but remember, that's what your cover story is for.  You don't
have to say anything about your real past if anyone asks.  It's not a
problem."

Nick stayed frozen until Dr. Jackson had left and pulled the door shut
behind him.  He had never thought much about his cover story.  After
all, he hadn't exactly needed to use it.  Everyone he interacted with
here already knew who and what he was, and much of his past.  His cover
story was actually uncannily close to one of his earlier lives.  Prior
to coming here, he supposedly first worked as a night-curator and
researcher, became a researcher at Nellis, then had come here.  He had
actually once been a museum curator, but instead of doing research for
graduate studies or as an archaeologist, he had been a teacher of the
subject.

Judging by something he had found in Jackson's lab, one of his
then-undergraduate students may have ended up as one of Jackson's
professors--Daniel had gone to the University of Chicago.  In fact, they
may have even been in Chicago at the same time, since that he was aware
Daniel was from there...and he had been in Chicago before Toronto...a
little before the mortal had been approached about the Stargate.

Dr. Jackson had no idea of the similarity, although he suspected the
mortal and the others might have found out about that life.  He had been
fired rather publicly as a result of a McCarthy-era trial.  He had been
accused of being a Communist, and when investigators had found blood in
his refrigerator, that had ruined any chance of him staying.  But that
damning discovery had made its way into a newspaper article, along with
his photograph.  If they had managed to link him to his persona as Lt.
Parker, when he'd been a medic during the Vietnam War, they'd have
certainly linked him to that earlier life.

The similarity was another reason he hadn't thought much about the cover
story.  Other than remembering the fictitious time-frame and that he had
supposedly been more of a student than a professor, the lie was made up
of at least partial truths.  The cover story was just that, though--the
background.  It didn't explain why he had, at least at times, an escort
of guards, although he knew from overheard conversations the assumption
was he had some obscure or serious medical condition which required
observation.  No one could settle on any specific diagnosis, however.
Some suspected he had seizures or was perhaps severely allergic to
something.  Others wondered if *anyone* knew what was wrong with him,
but everyone assumed they were there due to some medical condition he
had.  Which in a way was true--if his vampirism could be considered a
medical condition--and then not, since his guards had since all but
vanished.  Or they had.  He had been followed back to his room--albeit
only by one guard--but whether that would once again become a constant,
he didn't know.

Nick still didn't quite know why he agreed to work with other
researchers now, nor did he particularly look forward to it.  But if
nothing else, he at least did feel much better.  He no longer struggled
to remain in control, nor did he feel tempted by the mortals'
heartbeats.

This new normal might not last, however.  He had been given enough blood
to heal the damage the sedatives and near starvation diet had done, as
well as to satiate his incessant hunger.  He had tried to guess the
correct amount to maintain his present state, but it had been so long,
if ever, since he had had a steady, rationed diet of human blood that he
wasn't fully confident about that guess.  The blood found decades before
in Chicago had been cows' blood, simply because he didn't want to take
more lives.  Cows' blood was a plentiful by-product of mortals' want for
the animals' meat and hide.  While it had a bland and almost bitter
taste, it had been his primary, often only sustenance for a little over
a century.  He also had needed to drink more of the animal blood to get
the same satiety as human blood, but he hadn't really compared the two
side by side.  Natalie would have known, but for now he had to estimate
the amount of human blood he'd need.  That guess could have been
considerably off; he wouldn't notice anything for a few days, anyway, he
didn't think.

While the mortals had provided him with human blood the last several
years, at least it was nearly assured to have been donated.
Furthermore, his nausea at the mere taste of it meant he wouldn't have
any idea who had donated it.  Vampires could typically sense subtleties
in the blood, sometimes pick up strong feelings or even memories or
actual knowledge.  He assumed much of the blood on base was donated by
those who worked there, but it was also possible that what he was given
was part of a civilian supply that had been shipped in.  He hoped it was
the latter.  And he also hoped it was donated, as he suspected.

Nick also hoped tomorrow would go well.  He was curious about who
Jackson would pair him up with and whether they'd get along.  He knew
the odds were that they would have no problems.  He usually clashed less
with the scientists on the base than the soldiers.  He smiled a little.
Maybe his split second decision wouldn't be such a bad thing.



A Trial Run - (11/32)

Nick woke the next day late--nine o'clock--to the sound of someone
knocking at his door.  He had slept soundly with no nightmares and only
fleeting good memories.  He had gotten out of bed and answered the door,
still wearing the same outfit he'd had on when Jackson had come by the
night before.

Fraiser was there to start his new feeding regimen.  Or, as it turned
out, to give him the means to do it himself and the choice of
how--syringe or IV.  He chose the second, since he suspected it would go
faster and/or be easier.  He had felt a bit uncomfortable 'feeding'
himself with her watching, but apparently he hadn't done anything wrong.
Or, more specifically, she didn't make any comments--which wasn't the
same thing.  For now, she had only had him infuse half the amount he had
specified.  She wanted him to split the ration, which was frankly what
he typically had done with his meals before, so he hadn't complained.

Shortly after his meal, Jackson's note had arrived, which gave him the
name of a researcher he had heard of, but never met.  The young man
ended up being a whole twenty-four years old, had a doctorate in
linguistics, and had been at the SGC for a mere seven months--fresh out
of school.  He'd only been through the stargate twice and hoped there
wouldn't be a third time--unless it was a choice between that and
getting stuck in some white lab at Nellis.  Nick had winced at that, but
the young man abruptly remembered he had worked at Nellis, which quickly
brought an end to that line of conversation.

Things had gone better after that.  Nick had learned why the young man
was nearly terrified of the stargate.  Apparently he had taken enough
hard science courses to understand roughly what it did.  Nick had no
need for further information or other descriptions, between Jackson's
initial explanation and the young man's.  He knew the gate literally
took one apart on a quantum level, but--and more importantly--it also
put one back together again at another location.  That was all he cared
to know, and it didn't scare him.  In fact, it made more sense to him
than some of what his own body could do as a vampire.  Even science
couldn't explain that, although Natalie had tried.  That science could
explain what the stargate did was all the assurance he'd need.

In the end, Nick felt the day hadn't gone badly at all.  He did wish
Richard or Dr. Richards--or whatever the man's name was--would talk
less.  Working with someone else had revealed that, while he had areas
he was particularly knowledgeable about, others might have substantial
knowledge in the areas he didn't.  The contrast was even more stark than
it had been with Dr. Jackson--he and Richards had almost opposite
knowledge bases.  Daniel had indeed picked well in a way, perhaps had
been considering for some time that the two would make a good pair.
They learned much from each other, which Nick supposed was a good thing
and what was supposed to happen.

Dr. Jackson hadn't returned the following day, and after a slightly less
restful night, Nick worked with Richards again.  This session had gone
better, partially because the young researcher had been far
quieter--less nervous.  When Richards had gone to lunch, Nick had
returned to Jackson's lab, only to find it still empty.  The other man
had been gone longer before, but Nick still felt something was off.  His
senses had been more acute since he had woken from his nearly day-long
unintentional nap.  But just because he could sense something was off,
didn't mean he could figure it out--and he couldn't.  It was probably
nothing.

That night, however, close to dawn, Nick awoke from a nightmare.  Or
something that felt like a nightmare, but without any of the usual
remnants of the dream.  Yet the emotions--primarily fear and
panic--still lingered.  He knew it had something to do with LaCroix, but
beyond that, he had no clue.  It was an odd incident, but mainly because
it was the first nightmare he had had for a few nights.  Again he
reminded himself that his senses were just off--he was probably
overreacting by worrying about the lack of any memories of the dream
itself or the idea that it could possibly be something other than a
dream.

Fraiser's visit hadn't helped his morning any.  With the delivery of his
supplies, she had brought a little extra.  She wanted to see if the
taste of blood still made him nauseous.  It had probably been a plan of
hers from the moment he had mentioned the nausea.  He had been truthful
and said yes.  It wasn't quite as bad, but he had only tasted the
smallest amount he could manage.  She had still noticed.  But at least
the small amount only made him queasy and not...worse.

Once she left, Nick had practically forced the blood from the bag into
his veins.  He lay on his back, eyes closed, squeezing the bag a little
between his hands.  The nausea receded and, by his guess, the extra push
nearly halved the time it took to empty the bag.  In moments he was
dressed and ready to work.

Again, for the third day, Jackson's office appeared empty, but Nick
could tell someone had been in the room since late the previous day.
Since he had only been told to work with Richards and they hadn't yet
finished, Nick headed there to work.  If Jackson had returned as it
appeared, the mortal would check in on him sooner or later.

Nick had guessed right about that.  Around eleven that morning, Daniel
dropped by where he and the young mortal were working and asked them how
things were going.  Richards had reverted into a nervous chatterbox at
the question.  Nick, in contrast, gave another one of his staple replies
of, "Fine."

Later, after they finished the more recently received translation, Nick
had returned to Jackson's work area, where Daniel asked him the same
question once more.  After answering the same way, Nick asked how
Richards had ended up at the SGC.  He didn't get an answer about the
young researcher specifically, but one more applicable to the base's
researchers in general.

When it came to the actual scientists, such as Major Carter, they were
often the best or close to the best in their field.  Many of the
researchers, in addition to being quite knowledgeable in general, had
distinguished themselves in some way, often by stepping too far out of
accepted academic paradigms or stumbling onto some of the few Goa'uld
artefacts left on Earth.  Jackson had done the first, becoming pretty
much a laughingstock as far as academia was concerned, and then was
offered a job, which had eventually evolved into his present position.

Nick knew he had only gotten the short version--no details--but seeing
the touch of hesitation on Daniel's part, he could tell it was true.
For the remainder of the day he quietly wondered what outrageous
thoughts about history Daniel himself had had, and if or when he might
risk doing some snooping to find out.

He almost went back to the mortal's lab after the second half of his
daily quota of blood, but stopped before reaching the elevator and
turned around.  No, he wouldn't snoop, not intentionally.  If something
was idly left out, he'd take a look, but he would not deliberately hunt
through things solely to satisfy his curiosity.  Besides, Daniel might
still be there and, after nearly three days with Richards, Nick wanted
some time alone.  He approved of the young man's enthusiasm, but it had
been a bit too much so soon.  Not bad, just not what he was accustomed
to.

Nick had argued with the young researcher quite a bit, mostly about
which of them was right about a few particular words.  After he hadn't
let go of their argument, and the young man stuttered a bit,
intimidated, he had made sure not to push his opinion too hard.  They
had both just been guessing, after all.

Nick ended up simply lying on his bed with his eyes closed that night.
Almost immediately he thought back to the dream that had woken him that
morning.  Or, more precisely, the person in it--LaCroix.  He still
couldn't remember what the dream had been about.

Not wanting to think about his sire, he sat up, then walked over to the
bookshelf, scanning the books.  The Latin dictionary was no help in
avoiding any thoughts about his maker, master...almost father of sorts.

LaCroix had chided him on his atrocious Latin--which he had to admit
*had* been rather awful in the sense that the Roman version was probably
his weakest language at the time, along with the more contemporary
version as a whole.  Medieval Latin versus Roman Latin--the Rome of
Caligula, Claudius, Nero, and Vespasian.  LaCroix had taught him that
version of Latin, both formal and informal, both so-called Classical
Latin and more archaic forms that were 'old' even in his sire's time.
At the time, Nick had seen no point in the lessons, and then on the rare
occasions when he actually used it, it was to LaCroix' horror.  Here at
the SGC, it had proven most useful in learning one of the alien
languages, however, which seemed to be based on Latin--or, perhaps more
likely, Latin had been influenced by it.  The other vampire wouldn't
like that, either.

Nick pulled off one of the other books--19th-century fiction--and
decided he'd read that for a while since he didn't plan on sleeping for
at least a few more hours.

After reading a several chapters, he went to bed without bothering to do
anything more than strip off any unnecessary articles of clothing--his
shoes, socks, and fatigue trousers.  He woke only a few minutes after
falling asleep, LaCroix once again pushing into his dreams.  Once again,
no particular memory was associated with his sire.  Just a sense of him
being in his dreams.

He finally managed to sleep until the early morning hours, but around
five he fully woke from the after-images of an actual memory, a reason
for LaCroix to linger in his thoughts and dreams.  His flight from
Toronto.  Or any number of other times he had tried to break free and
the older man had followed, sometimes practically running or flying
after him.  Somehow his sire had always found him--always.

He pushed the dream away.  He had had others much like this one at
Nellis, although mostly the first few months he had been there.  Now it
seemed that his subconscious was determined to bring up the distasteful
subject once again.

Knowing he wouldn't sleep, Nick took a shower and got dressed, then went
to the infirmary to pick up his morning meal.  Fraiser wasn't there yet,
so he had to ask one of the nurses--specifically someone who knew what
he was, which meant the one who didn't like him--for it instead.  At
least that had been far quicker than the alternative, and since they
weren't alone, she didn't make any comments.

The morning went quickly, but as afternoon peaked, Nick shut his eyes
and rested his head in his hands.  Every time he zoned off, he thought
of that last vivid dream, and he was starting to worry that it wasn't
actually even a dream.  LaCroix had found him countless times before,
but usually the other man had some hint as to where he might have gone.
And hint or not, his sire could often guess why he might be in a
particular locale.  This time he hadn't chosen his destination, however,
and he was far underground, with no clues or signs of him for the
outside world to lock onto.  Plus, usually, he himself didn't know
LaCroix was there until they were within sight of one another.

That thought actually made him more nervous, rather than less.  He
needed to actually see his sire to really tell for sure whether the
other man was watching him, and that was only if LaCroix wanted him to
find him.  But LaCroix could find him on instinct.  The other vampire
didn't need to see him to find him; he merely needed to follow whatever
connection they had.  It *might* be possible that LaCroix had found him.
Maybe.  But if he could find him even here...

"Is something wrong?" Daniel asked, seeing Nick stop and hold his head
as if he had a headache.

"It's nothing," he answered, but to be honest he was no longer sure
about that.  "It's nothing," he repeated without looking at the mortal,
then turned his attention back to his work.  Until he felt positive he
wasn't overreacting to some dream or overly active imagination, he
couldn't--and wouldn't--tell anyone.  True, Dr. Jackson already knew of
LaCroix, but not of their relationship or his master's twisted obsession
with him--which was probably worse than ever by now.

The only other vampire LaCroix had made who hadn't become some throwaway
pawn had been Janette, who was older than him by a good century and a
half or so.  Through an unusual set of circumstances and pure luck, she
had become human again, and then instead of letting her die after she'd
been mortally wounded, Nick had turned her back...replacing LaCroix as
her sire.  He hadn't seen her since, and had suspected that he wouldn't
for some time.  She had enjoyed her unexpected mortality at least a
little and he had acted against her wishes, taking any possibility of
that away.  During her time as LaCroix' child, while she never dared say
it aloud, their sire had had as much control over her and threatened her
nearly as much as he had himself.  With Janette freed, however, their
so-called 'father' was now left with only one favourite child instead of
two.  Him.

They had argued less those last few months in Toronto, but that didn't
mean anything now.  If his dreams were real, he feared what LaCroix
would do once he finally found him.  While his location here gave him
the best odds he'd ever had of remaining inaccessible to his maker,
considering the good couple hundred feet of solid rock and well-armed
soldiers that stood between him and the surface, he wasn't sure even
that would be enough.

Daniel noticed Nick's gaze shift to an empty spot, the pencil in his
hand slowly loosening until it slid free and fell softly onto their
notes.  "You sure there's nothing wrong?  You seem a
little...preoccupied."

Nick glanced toward the mortal at the comment.  He *was* preoccupied,
but hearing that helped him push back his thoughts, his wonderings about
what might happen.  And he honestly wasn't sure one way or another--no
reason to worry quite yet.  "Just...a bad dream, that's all.  It's
probably nothing."

"We could talk about it if you--"

"No."

"--think that might help."

"No," Nick repeated, shaking his head.

"I only thought it might help."

Nick continued to shake his head, but less rapidly.  "I don't recall
enough detail for that," he said.  It was true--he really only had past
memories, if that.  Nothing that really pointed to something happening
*now*.  "I'm not even sure if it's a dream or something else."

"Well, if you want to talk later, I'm here more often than not."

Nick nodded a couple of times.  Yes, if he could figure out what was
going on with his dreams, he probably would tell Jackson.  If.  He knew
the dreams might just be a fluke, a coincidence, but at least Daniel was
aware from his last computer search that he knew someone named LaCroix.
He couldn't be sure what else this mortal and the others might have
learned from looking up that name...which he felt they surely had.

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

Soon after midnight that night, in the wooded terrain surrounding
Cheyenne Mountain, a shadowy figure glided to a halt in his hunt.  A
couple of days previously LaCroix had sensed something he hadn't for
over five years--the faint but tell-tale presence--somewhere--of his
son.

He had eventually been able to lock onto his child's general direction
and left immediately, fully expecting the younger man to be relatively
close by.  He was puzzled that he had had to continue all the way to
Colorado--almost a thousand miles from where he had started, in
Chicago--instead.  The younger man felt considerably stronger than he
had been in decades, perhaps centuries.  Perhaps ever.

Upon arriving, LaCroix had found another surprise--a mountain with a
well-guarded tunnel going into it from one side.  He had flown a wide
circle around the mountain, and it was clear to him his target was
somewhere inside or below it.  He quickly realised the guarded entrance
would be the main issue.  There was a second entrance--also guarded--but
it was too risky; it was sure to be monitored more closely.  The first
was probably the best way in, if it came to it.

LaCroix also felt a bit apprehensive.  Why would he suddenly be sensing
his son now?  He faintly wondered if it could be a trick.  If he entered
the obviously military facility, there was a strong possibility he'd at
least be detained for a short time, simply for being an intruder.  On
the other hand, if the mortals knew what he was--if it was a trap--he
would very possibly be imprisoned.  Perhaps, if it was indeed a trap, it
could even be specifically for himself, with his son the bait to draw
him in.

He stared through the pines toward the entrance of the mountain.  No,
his child was, he had to admit, stubborn and resilient when it came to
being questioned.  Defiant, even, especially when it came to questions
about himself.  No, he wouldn't willingly reveal others of his kind, not
unless he was truly desperate--which wasn't an impossibility, but still
unlikely.

LaCroix moved as near to the facility as he felt wise, where he closed
his eyes and tried to focus on his son.

If he could sense him just a bit more clearly, he might be able to work
his way ever so slightly into the younger vampire's mind.  He had done
it enough times to know that while the other man couldn't reciprocate,
he would sense something and know it was him, that he was nearby.
LaCroix had never tried to teach the younger man this skill, nor did he
really want his wayward child to be able to prod *his* thoughts.
Perhaps if his son was still a prisoner, which he believed likely, he
might try to escape.  Then he, himself, wouldn't have to attempt to
enter.  That would be easiest and safest for both of them...and any
mortals between them.  He knew that thought would appeal to his son, but
he also knew any prodding on his part may not be welcomed.

Hours passed, but LaCroix had no way of knowing if his son had even
sensed his presence, much less reacted to it or in what way.  He had
even whispered his son's name a few times, not that the younger man
would actually be able to hear him.  Anything more than directional
information worked far better when they were close, preferably within
sight or hearing range of each other.  His son was within neither.
 
Rather suddenly he sensed the presence of someone behind him.  After
tensing for a split second--at first wondering if it could be a guard
from the facility--he smiled, opened his eyes, and turned.  "I was
beginning to wonder where you were, my dear," he said, abandoned his
spot that was almost out in the open, and walked toward Natalie.  "I've
been here for hours."

"And?  So I got here a few hours--"

"You should have been right behind me.  Minutes...not hours."

"I'm sorry, but I took the time to quit my job, pack some clothes--for
*all* of us," she emphasised, pausing slightly, "drive most of the way
here, and even reserve a hotel room.  And I brought some blood, although
we'll need more."  She watched his features show clear surprise--unusual
for LaCroix.  "What?"

"You quit your job...without even knowing whether we would find
Nicholas, let alone free him?"

"I had to quit soon anyway; we both know that.  I'd already been working
there for five years, and you've been dropping hints for months.  You're
not exactly subtle, you know."

"Did you quit properly, at least?"

"Handed in my resignation and ID, cleaned out my personal belongings,
managed to say a cursory goodbye...so, yes, I suppose.  Gave them no
notice at all, but it's better than simply vanishing again."

"And your...research?" LaCroix asked with distaste.

"I either took it home or destroyed it, of course.  I know you probably
wish I'd destroyed it all--"

"I assume what you kept were your notes, correct?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps you'll show them to Nicholas once he's free.  Or...perhaps
not."

Natalie tensed.  No, she had no intention of showing her notes to Nick,
notes of her tests on herself and her own blood.  Her notes had also
morphed from the clinical and impersonal to a sort of code--mainly
because she didn't want LaCroix reading it.  Nick wouldn't be able to
read it, let alone understand it.  Which was good, since she had put
other, more personal thoughts down as well.

LaCroix grinned and turned around.  He couldn't see the mountain's
entrance from here, but remembered what was written on the huge arch.
"Cheyenne Mountain Complex.  Do you know what is housed inside that
mountain?"

Natalie was caught off guard, but managed to quickly answer, "NORAD."

"Which is what, exactly?"

"Ah, I think it's primarily to do with national defences against
missiles...air defence or something is part of the name."

"Run by?"

"I'm...it's US and Canada, I think, and if it means anything, there's
also an Air Force base in the city we're staying in, Colorado Springs."

"Air Force.  Interesting."

"That's who took Nick away--or at least they took him from an Air Force
base."  Natalie paused before adding, "And Nellis is definitely an Air
Force base."  Nellis--the supposed location of the legendary Area
51--was where she and LaCroix had figured Nick had likely been taken.
Assuming Area 51 existed, which from observing the base in the weeks
after Nick had been driven away, they both knew it did.  "So he's still
a prisoner.  Being held...or whatever they're doing to him."

LaCroix didn't reply, but merely walked back to his previous spot.  He
had expected his son was still being forcibly detained, but that didn't
help him formulate any plan.  He only knew that if he couldn't get his
son to try to escape and make his way outside to them, then he and
Natalie would be forced to devise a way to get inside.  They would first
have to persuade someone to tell them what the security was like and, if
possible, how the facility was laid out.  They would have to be
careful...and plan a way out, as well as a contingency plan in case they
couldn't get out.  And his child would have to at least be aware he was
there, even if he couldn't get him to leave.

LaCroix shut his eyes again to focus, to try and somehow make contact
with his son.  Or, better yet, to convince him to come to him.  That
would be by far the easiest for them all.  Too many things could go
wrong, otherwise.

After not quite a minute of watching, Natalie stated, "I know what
you're trying to do."  She stepped carefully closer.  "And it won't
work.  He won't come to you."

LaCroix felt a surge of anger, but knew she was probably right.  "If we
are to attempt to free him, he must at least know we are here."

"You mean he should know *you* are here.  The problem is that he needs
to know *I'm* here.  So unless you show me how to do that--which you
won't--he certainly won't know.  As far as we know, Nick doesn't even
know I'm still alive, much less that I'm so close."  Now Natalie closed
her eyes.  There was another reason she wasn't sure it was a good idea
for LaCroix to deliberately alert Nick to his presence.  "And we don't
know how he'll react on either count."

"He will be grateful," LaCroix slowly and confidently stated.

"*If* he wants to leave."

"Of course he'll want to leave!" he exclaimed, turning his head
slightly.

"And what if he doesn't?  He deliberately allowed this to happen,
LaCroix.  He might not want to leave, especially with you.  He knows
you'll just start pushing him again.  He knows you'll eventually try
forcing him to be more like you and..."  She trailed off and closed her
eyes for a moment.  "And he might think he's better off here."

LaCroix closed his eyes again.  She was right, yet again, but he had to
try...and once his son saw Natalie, any hesitation would vanish.  His
son might not leave with him, but he would with her.  "Wait at the
hotel.  I will return in an hour."

Natalie pursed her lips at the dismissal; he didn't even ask where the
hotel was or what it was called.  She turned, walked a few steps deeper
into the trees, then took to the sky.

Once Natalie had left, LaCroix continued his efforts to force his
thoughts into his son's mind.  He tried for nearly another hour, until
the sky began to brighten and more vehicles drove into and out of the
tunnel.  Finally, reluctantly, he left.  He and Natalie would have to
formulate a plan to enter the facility, and quickly.

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

Nick had initially slept soundly, but woke first around one, then again
at five.  The second time he woke not from a dream, nightmare, or
memory, but something far closer and more immediate--LaCroix.  Again.

This time, however, he knew immediately and without question that this
was *not* his imagination or a product of his own thoughts.  This was
different.  It was real.  LaCroix had come for him.

Nick didn't even bother to go back to sleep.  Instead he got up and
anxiously began to pace.  After a few minutes the mental presence and
after-images of his sire diminished, but he didn't cease pacing, nor did
his sense of panic dissipate.  In fact, when his alarm clock ticked
first to and then past sunrise, his thoughts continued to race in an
attempt to decide what to do.

He would have to tell someone, and he would have to be taken back to
Nellis.  And sedated again.  The lack of sedation and his increased
consumption of blood must have strengthened him both physically as well
as mentally.  He had been grateful for the first, but he had neither
noticed nor even thought about the the consequences of the second.  It
had happened so gradually that he hadn't realised that his mental link
with his master, nearly dormant for so long, now hummed with raw power.
And now he could not shut it out.

And it had finally enabled LaCroix to find him after so long.  The delay
of a couple, few days made perfect sense--it would take time to travel
here.  Despite being twenty-five levels underground--in the heart of a
mountain--LaCroix had sensed his new-found strength...and used it to
find him.

Worse yet, Nick knew the other vampire would undoubtedly find a way into
the facility...and, if necessary, kill to get him out.

He had to tell someone, warn them what might happen.  He knew
immediately who that someone would be--Daniel Jackson.  General Hammond
was, of course, who he *really* needed to talk to, but he wasn't allowed
access below the level his quarters were on.  Fraiser was a close
second, but Daniel at least knew of LaCroix' name; he didn't know if the
doctor knew the name or not.  Better yet, Nick suspected the
archaeologist could either get him to Hammond's office or convince
Hammond to come to them.

As it was still quite early, Nick had to wait a while before going to
the infirmary to retrieve his morning meal.  Once back in his quarters,
he left the blood there, unused, and left for Dr. Jackson's lab.  He
wouldn't put any additional blood into his system--which would merely
strengthen him and allow LaCroix to hone in on him even more
accurately--until something had been done or he knew how those here
would proceed.

Nick hadn't checked the time when he arrived, so he had no idea how long
he paced until Daniel entered.  He could tell immediately from the
mortal's expression that his panic must be showing.

"Is something--"

"I need to talk to you.  Right now."

Daniel slowly put down the file he had in his hand, keeping his
attention solidly on the other man.  "Something is wrong."

Nick hesitated.  Planning to tell the mortal and actually doing it were
vastly different things.  At first, all he managed was, "Yes," and he
tried pacing a few moments before stopping and facing Dr. Jackson.  "I
can't stay here any longer.  As long as I'm here, everyone on the base
is in danger."

"What kind of danger?  And from what?"

Nick didn't respond for a few seconds, then asked, "Do you remember the
last name I searched for on your computer?"

Daniel slowly nodded.  The name was unusual enough that, after a few
seconds, he answered, "Lucien LaCroix."

"Who knows about that search, that name?"

"Ah, my team, Dr. Fraiser, and General Hammond."

"I assume there was some program on your computer that recorded any
activity, am I right?"

"Yes," Daniel confirmed.

"And who monitored that?"

"Sam set it up.  Major Carter."

"Was the name passed on to anyone else, either from you or any of them?"

"No."

"And the other names?"

"Not that I'm aware," Daniel said a bit slower, then after a pause he
asked, "Does whatever is wrong have to do with this Lucien LaCroix?"

Nick hesitated, but since Jackson had already guessed, he nodded.  "Yes.
Somehow he's here, here at the SGC.  And he knows I'm here.  He's come
for me, to get me out of here."

"Here as in...here in the base?"

"Not inside, not yet.  But he's nearby, probably on the surface.  Since
early this morning."  Nick shut his eyes tight.  "He left for now, but
he'll be back.  And he'll come for me if I don't go to him."

"And he's like you," Daniel stated, even though he already suspected the
answer.

"Yes."  Somewhat reluctantly, he admitted, "He's the one who made me
like this, turned me, whatever you want to call it."

"So he's--"

"Far more dangerous than I am."

"I was going to say older," Daniel finished.

"That, too," Nick said with a smirk.  "Much older."

While that last comment drew Daniel's curiosity, he was confused about
something else.  "How do you know he's here, that he's found out where
you are?"

Nick's frustrated smile vanished, and he had to fight not to look away.
"I can't really explain it.  I just...know.  I can feel it."

"Then I think the person you should talk to is General Hammond.  And
you'll have to explain all of this to him.  You know he's not going to
simply believe you."

Now Nick turned away.  He supposed he couldn't expect to be believed
without providing an explanation, but doing so would possibly provide
yet more tightly-held information about vampires--especially LaCroix.
As to the link between them, he doubted those who had held him knew
everything there was to know about his kind.  Even he didn't know that.
Even LaCroix didn't.  "I don't have a scientific explanation--it may be
some sort of telepathy for all I know--but sometimes he can somehow know
what I'm thinking.  And no matter how careful I am, or how far I go,
he's always found me."  He closed his eyes, then added what he had been
trying not think about.  "And I think he wants me to try and leave, to
escape.  I can't explain how I know that; I can just feel it, *know* it.
It's more than just his presence."

"Is that normal?  Either between all of those like you or only between,
ah, close relatives?"

"I don't know," Nick said honestly, slowly turning back.  "No one else
has ever mentioned it, so either it's unusual or some...lost art.  It
probably has to be taught, especially to gain any real skill with it.
And yes, it might be because of our...familial relationship.  Long ago
he taught me how to find him, but nothing more.  But the feeling of what
he wants me to do--that's unusual.  New, even."

"Is it really some type of telepathy?"

Nick started to shake his head, but answered, "Like I said, I don't
know, but I suppose it could be."

"Like your...mind control ability," Daniel slowly stated and watched the
vampire tense a bit, but he half-nodded and half-shook his head in
response.  Another maybe.  "And I suppose sensing his presence is
related to that ability...  And if you can sense him, then--"

"He can sense me.  He *knows* I'm here."

"And you think, what, that he'll try to breach security and get to you?"

"LaCroix doesn't try...he *will* get into this facility.  He'll find
some way in, and it's unlikely he'll be detected at first.  Initially,
he'll make sure no one alerts security--he'll make them forget--but
he'll do anything necessary to find me and drag me out of here.  He has
no qualms about killing, and he won't take the threat of imprisonment
lightly.  If he does get through security, you must not tell him how
much you know about me or that I've worked with you."

"Because...?"

"Because he knows I...  He knows I care what happens to mortal friends
and co-workers," Nick answered, holding Jackson's gaze.  He could see
realisation at what that meant coalesce.  "Even if I return to Nellis,
he'll know I was here and might force someone to tell him what I was
doing here and where I went.  But if I'm here..."

"Will you leave with him?  I mean if--"

"I don't want to, but...I won't have a choice."

"Why wouldn't you have a choice?" Daniel asked, curious, and a bit
confused, since it sounded as though the two vampires didn't get
along--at all.

"If we leave together, there might not be any casualties, but if I
refuse...things might go...badly."  Nick paused, hoping the other man
understood what he was trying to say.  If he went with LaCroix, he might
be able to stop his sire, but he feared the older vampire would lash out
at anything and anyone in his way if he didn't willingly go with him.
And LaCroix would know he would eventually leave with him simply to keep
anyone else from being hurt or killed.  Finally he asked the question
that everything depended on, "Will General Hammond send me back to
Nellis if I request it, considering the danger and that I am the cause?"

"I really don't know, but I don't think he would consider this your
fault," Daniel carefully answered, then checked his watch at the mention
of the general.  It was early, but Hammond was likely in his office.
"Ah, why don't you come with me?"

"Where?"

"To Hammond's office.  He's who you really need to talk to."

Nick hung back while Jackson went not to his phone, but the hall.
"Don't you need to call someone?"

Daniel stayed in the hall.  He had an idea that meant they just had to
go there--no warning.  "You said something about him--LaCroix--not being
easily detected if he makes his way in here...that he'll make people
forget about him.  Do you think you can show me how he might get past
security?"

Nick stared forward for a moment, caught off-guard.  Could he?  It would
ultimately depend on whether whoever he tried to get by was a resistor
or not.  He had never tried influencing any of his guards here.  As far
as he knew, they could *all* be resistors, particularly if it were known
some people were immune to vampires' influence.  That first time he had
met Fraiser he had tried, but he didn't think it had made any difference
in her answer; he had also suspected she might be a resistor...like
Natalie had been.

"It might help illustrate how easily he might breach security, and--"

"I can try," Nick said, downplaying his confidence in his ability to
succeed.  If one of the guards was able to shake off his attempt to
persuade, he didn't want to explain that not all humans were
susceptible.  It also might make Hammond not take the threat as
seriously--LaCroix could be unusually persuasive.

He hesitantly left the room and followed Dr. Jackson, hoping he wouldn't
fail and subsequently create more questions.

"I don't think you've ever...ah, checked out the security on the levels
you're not permitted on."

"No, I haven't," Nick replied, keeping behind the mortal while they
headed down the hall and to the elevator.  He watched Jackson punch the
button for level 27, two levels below the lowest floor Nick was supposed
to go on, and as far down as the elevator went.  Once they got close to
their destination, Daniel told him which way they'd be heading next and
to get ready.

Nick tensed when the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open.
After getting a nod from the mortal, Nick took the lead and exited
first.  The guard wasn't someone he had seen before, although it was
apparent the man recognised him.  The man reached to his side for one of
the alien weapons.  Nick ignored the action, remaining calm and keeping
eye contact as the man spoke.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Parker, I have to ask you to return to--"

"*I believe you are mistaken,*" Nick intoned, walking directly up to the
guard.  "*I am not who you think I am, and you will allow me to pass.
You were mistaken.*"  He repeated his first statement once the man began
to relax and replace his weapon.

"Mistaken, yes," he droned a bit lazily.

"*In fact, you didn't see anyone,*" Nick continued.  "*You didn't see
anything.*"

"Didn't see anything..." the man mumbled, the Zat re-holstered, his eyes
drifting from Nick and zoning in on the wall opposite him.

Nick couldn't repress a slight smile while he started down the hall and
gestured for a dazed Dr. Jackson to follow.

Daniel had to resist the urge to walk up to the soldier and wave his
hand in front of his zoned out expression.  The man looked utterly
blank; he had been hypnotised into thoroughly forgetting them--or seeing
them at all.  After seeing how very easily a vampire could get past
someone fully prepared to stop said vampire, he understood better why
Nick believed LaCroix was fully capable of getting in.  While there was
more security closer to the surface entrance--at level 11, since that
was the last security checkpoint into the lower levels--that group
didn't have Zats and most didn't know about vampires.  And those who did
were tasked more to stop Nick from leaving than to prevent anyone from
entering.

Daniel stopped upon reaching Hammond's closed office door, at which he
knocked and was almost immediately told to enter.

Looking up from his desk, General Hammond's attention locked on Dr.
Parker before switching to Dr. Jackson.  "There better be a good reason
for bringing him down here, Dr. Jackson.  And I'd like to know why I
haven't been notified, either by you or by Security."

"Actually, that's part of it," Daniel started, then explained, "You see,
Nick has reason to believe another like him is near the base and might
try to get to him here.  I thought you'd be more likely to believe him
if we could prove it might be possible before talking with you, so I
purposely didn't say anything to see if he could get us past security.
If he could, I figure another vampire like him could certainly get in
from the surface."

"I take it you were successful?" Hammond said with a nod to Nick.

"Very much so," Daniel answered.  "I don't think the guard will even
remember seeing us."

Nick took a step forward.  "My presence here has put you in danger,
General.  If I stay, one or more your people is likely to be seriously
injured or killed."

"By you...or this other one?"

"Not by me, not intentionally," Nick said, dropping his gaze.

"Why do you think another of your kind will come here and--"

"He's been here already.  On the surface, early this morning."

"And how, precisely, do you know this?  You've never, until today, tried
to breach your security, let alone leave to make your way to the
surface, so I know for a fact that you haven't actually seen or heard
him.  Unless you're suggesting he has entered this base?"

Nick hesitated, but his conversation with Dr. Jackson had helped.  "He
hasn't entered the base yet, I don't think.  As to the rest...I can
sense him, feel his...his mental presence nearby," he simply said.  "He
*wants* me to know he's there.  I'm sorry, but I can't really explain it
more accurately than that."

"And who is this other vampire?  And why do you think he'll try--"

"I don't just think, I *know* he was here this morning.  And he won't
merely try to get in, he *will*," Nick said, frustrated, first going to
the desk and leaning on it while he spoke, then pushing back and turning
away.  "Have someone check the security footage from the surface this
morning, in the general vicinity of the entrance.  He had to be fairly
close to the facility for me to be able to sense he was there, which
means he might have been picked up on camera.  He'll appear to be in his
forties and he keeps his hair quite short."

"You didn't answer my question, Dr. Parker.  Who is this man?  And how
does he know you and why would he--"

"He's the one who brought me across--made me into a vampire," Nick
half-spat out, almost in anger, then turned around.  It wasn't something
he had wanted to say, but it was necessary.  He would never be believed
without that bit of information.  More calmly he added, "I suppose you
could say he is a father of sorts, and he certainly sees me as his son.
I'm the closest thing he has to family, whether I like it or not.  As to
who he is, his name--"

"Isn't really necessary, is it, General?" Daniel interrupted, suspecting
that if Nick offered it up, Hammond would likely have to pass it along.

Hammond considered, then asked, "Does Dr. Jackson know the name of this
individual?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe I have already heard the name before?"

Nick held back a moment.  By replying, he'd probably confirm LaCroix'
identity, but he had already done that with his previous answer.  "Yes,"
he quietly replied.  "And for the safety of your people, you should have
me sedated and sent back to Nellis."

"And then what?  If he somehow senses that you're no longer here, will
he come here regardless?  If so, what will he do?  Will this simply
happen again there, or wherever you are?" Hammond questioned.

Nick hadn't thought too much about this, but knew LaCroix would want to
know what happened.  "He'll probably still come to find out where I went
or what happened to me."

Hammond didn't think transferring Nick Parker was much of a solution.
There was nothing to say this other vampire wouldn't search for--and
find--his son again.  If he truly viewed himself as the other man's
father, he almost certainly would.  Before the general got to think more
about this, his telephone rang.  As he somewhat expected, it was base
Security, noting they had lost Parker on the security cameras and none
of their people had seen him leave his designated areas.  Hammond
informed the caller of his location--directly in front of him--and that,
no, he would not need to be fetched.  Hanging up, his gaze locked more
fully on Nick.  There was one thing he still wanted to know.  "If you
are here and your--"

"Father," Daniel supplied.

"Yes.  When he comes, do you intend to leave with him?"

"I don't want to, but I think I'll have to."

"Have to?  Why?"

"If I willingly leave with him, fewer of your people are apt to
be...harmed."

Hammond found this a bit curious, considering what Parker was, yet he
wasn't overly surprised, since he'd seen how the vampire researcher had
behaved and reacted the last couple of months.  "But if you could
choose--"

"Then I wouldn't go."

"Even though you're a prisoner here?"

Nick nearly said he was a prisoner either way--which he was--but to
avoid raising more questions or perhaps confirm any suspicions, he
answered with a simple, "Yes."

Hammond nodded toward the second door in his office that led to the
briefing room.  "Wait in there while I speak with Dr. Jackson.  Do not
leave that room--not that you'll probably want to."

Nick nodded, a little confused at the last, then he proceeded into the
other room as asked.  It was unoccupied, with a long table in the main
part of the room and large windows on one side.  He understood almost
immediately why Hammond thought he wouldn't want to leave--the stargate.
Walking over to the windows, he could see a ramp leading up to where the
huge artefact was, he assumed, somehow held in place.  The room below
had a few workers--scientists or engineers, he assumed--and many
soldiers, none of whom paid any heed to his presence.

Seeing the gate in person was different than in a picture or video,
although Nick couldn't place exactly how it was different.  Perhaps it
was just his clearer mind, clearer senses from lack of sedation that
made it appear so different.  The gate's alien symbols seemed
extraordinarily crisp and smooth.  It was also a bit larger than he had
estimated.  The material had an unusual colour to it, and overall the
device very much looked alien, even if one didn't know what it did.

Nick's feeling of awe was dampened by his reason for being here--to
request to leave...even though the more he thought about it, the more he
wondered if anything could be done to blunt the results of his being
there, short of willingly leaving with LaCroix.  Whether he was shipped
back to his cell at Area 51 or half-dragged from his quarters here, he
would never see this again.

"It's the best view here."

Nick turned his head abruptly toward the voice.  Dr. Jackson stood only
a couple of feet from his side.  He hadn't heard the mortal approach,
hadn't even heard the door from General Hammond's office open.  He had
been so completely distracted he hadn't heard--or even attempted to
hear--any of what the two might have discussed.

"Is it about what you expected?  I know it's one thing to see a picture
of it, but--"

"Yeah, it's about what I expected," Nick said, and stared back through
the glass toward the gate.  "I think I remember something about it being
made out of--"

"A naquada alloy."

"Yes," Nick whispered back, taking a small step closer.  What he really
wanted was to ask if he could touch it--not to make it any more real,
but simply to see what the gate felt like.  Stone, like the tablet
Jackson had shown him?  Or would it feel like something else?

"Ah, Nick?  We can't actually stay here; there's a briefing in fifteen
minutes."

Nick tore his eyes from the glass again, nodded reluctantly and started
after Jackson, who was heading not back to the office but to some spiral
stairs.  He could hear voices and computers below.

"Hammond's--"

"Dealing with my mess.  I know."

Daniel stopped.  "Well, I wouldn't put it quite that way, but he needs
to pull last night's security tapes, and my team's next mission is being
pushed back a bit."

Nick felt worse at the last, but could guess why.  "Because your team
knows what I am and at least you know who to search for on the tapes."

"Being delayed isn't unusual, or much of an inconvenience.  A somewhat
random schedule is a normal part of the job.  Besides, it means you get
a more proper tour, although it'll be short."

Nick didn't get much of a chance to reply when the mortal continued down
the stairs and onto the lower level, where they were quickly surrounded
by quite a few people.  It looked like a shift change, but once again
Nick could see the massive stargate through a pane of glass.  Here,
however, computers and work areas lined the area at the front.  One
screen clearly indicated that this equipment--or some of it--controlled
the gate.  He remembered what Dr. Jackson had told him upon
arriving--the Earth's stargate had been found without a dialling device,
and so they had ended up making their own.  There was a clear glass map
nearby, which appeared to note the locations of other planets with
stargates--he could see notations, labels on some of the dots.

"Nick?"

Again he had spaced out; Daniel was now off to the side.  Apparently
they were just walking through the area.  Nick followed him out, then
through hallways and stairs back to the elevator.  The guard there
stiffened upon seeing him, but let them pass without a word.  He must
have been notified.

Once in the elevator, Daniel explained that the last room was the
control room for the stargate, and that the room above it was where the
teams were briefed, debriefed, and generally where most official
meetings took place.  He let his guest decide where to go next, which
meant either back to his quarters or on to the lab.

Nick had chosen the second, hoping that by working he could keep his
thoughts off LaCroix.  It was also what he normally would have done, and
he didn't want to risk disrupting his routine too much in case LaCroix
could detect it.



A Trial Run - (12/32)

"Anything yet, Dr. Jackson, Major Carter?" Hammond asked several hours
later in Sam's lab.  The two had been going through security footage,
trying to spot someone lurking outside that morning.

Sam pulled out the two tapes they had just finished watching and set
them off to one side to join several other tapes.  "Nothing yet.  We did
the first few all the way through, then Daniel got an idea to look at
the tape from Parker's room.  Now we're only checking the time around
when he woke up."

"He was highly agitated," Daniel explained.  "So that's probably our
best starting point."

"Do you two know exactly what you're searching for?  Or who?"

Sam pulled out a dark, stylised, but otherwise clear photo printout.  "I
found this after Nick's search on Daniel's computer.  It's a promo photo
related to his last job, but it's good enough to identify him."

Hammond felt uncomfortable looking at the man's pale features--not just
his skin, but his eyes and hair seemed oddly light or devoid of
contrast, even considering it was a black and white printout.

"And if he does get inside, he has a distinct enough appearance to
easily identify him," Sam said.

"But in a uniform..." Daniel started.

"He won't be out of place at all," she added.  "He'll blend right in."

Hammond silently agreed.  Something about the picture told him this man
had a military background, and not the beneficent kind their guest had.
"And where is Parker right now?"

"As far as I know, he's in my lab and has been there all day," Daniel
answered.

"Does he know you have a picture to identify this other vampire?"

"He doesn't know about the photo," Daniel quickly said, "but I think he
knows or at least wouldn't be surprised to know we've done some
research.  He already guessed my computer had been monitored, and that I
and probably others know this guy's name."  Daniel nodded to the
printout.  "He knows what we're doing right now, but not the details."

"Do either of you know anything more about this man?" Hammond asked.

Daniel and Sam shook their heads, then Daniel stopped.  That morning
Nick had said something new.  "Nick mentioned he's much older than
himself.  And far more dangerous."

"How much older?" Hammond asked.

"Only 'much older'," Daniel repeated, then paused before explaining,
"Which I would guess could easily mean a couple hundred years older, if
not closer to double or more of Nick's own age.  Although that doesn't
narrow things down much.  After all, we don't even know how old Nick
is."

Hammond ever so slightly nodded in agreement, then said, "I want both of
you in the briefing room at fifteen hundred hours."

When the other man turned to leave, Daniel asked, "Is it about my
suggestion?  Will it be allowed?"

"Yes, it's about that.  And Dr. Jackson, let me remind you not to tell
Parker either about that suggestion or if you find this LaCroix on those
tapes until you have permission to do so.  If Parker can sense his
presence, who knows how much that man can sense from him."

Daniel tensed a bit, not relaxing until Hammond had left.

"What did you suggest?" Sam wondered.

"Well, Nick probably can't be hidden away easily, not even by going back
to Nellis..."

"I know.  The other one would probably follow him, and if he can find
him here, he can find him there, too."

"Exactly.  But he can't follow him if he's not on Earth, especially if
even we don't know where he is."

"So you suggested we send him off-world."

"Preferably with the Tok'ra, although they might not be willing to help
him."

"Because of what he is," Sam said, remembering what Teal'c had said.
Even though it was more about the Goa'uld, it didn't mean there wasn't
also some bias against vampires within the Tok'ra as well.

"Yes, but it's probably the only sure way that Nick's so-called father
won't be able to talk the location out of someone."

"And you really think he'll be able to get into the SGC?"

"Oh, absolutely.  Definitely.  Even with increased security.  When we
went to tell Hammond, Nick made one of the guards who knew what he was
and what he could do forget seeing both him and me.  And before you say
anything, I had specifically asked him to do that, as proof for both me
and especially Hammond.  It worked so well that it took a good six to
eight minutes before he got a call about Parker not being where he
should be and no one seeing him."

"Not sure that counts, since they've probably stopped following him
every second since he's never tried to go where he wasn't supposed to."

"He could probably get to the surface on his own with little trouble,
even now--if he wanted to.  Getting in might even be easier, although
it'll be easier for us to keep an eye on anyone who enters."

Sam nodded.  If Lucien LaCroix did enter, he'd be spotted fairly
quickly, even if he did manage to talk his way past the security
checkpoints.  "Ready for the next tapes?" she asked, then retrieved and
loaded another set after he nodded.

Settling in once more, Daniel waited until a time-stamp half an hour
before Nick had woken agitated that morning was cued up on both tapes.
He found his tape absolutely lifeless--exactly like the others--but
after about ten minutes of growing boredom, he felt his arm poked and
stopped the playback.  Sam, however, didn't explain anything; she was
rewinding her own tape.  "You see something?"

"I think so.  Just watch.  You'll see it," she said and started it
forward again.

At first, all Daniel saw was trees, then he noticed movement.  Someone
appeared to move into view, but it looked like little more than a
reflection on the screen.  Then he saw it again, the figure perhaps
shifting to glance behind him, and not long after, the figure--now more
clearly a man dressed in black--stepped forward.

Sam paused the playback.  "It's not clear, but it's definitely not
someone from here, and the man fits our description, or at least doesn't
contradict it, and--"

"When does he leave?"

She fast-forwarded until the moonlit face suddenly vanished.
Backtracking, she checked the time code. "Almost an hour later.  About
half an hour before sunrise."

"Probably, what, just enough time to get to Colorado Springs before the
sun came up?" Daniel supposed.  "How long was he there?"

Rewinding, Sam first went back to the footage she had first shown him,
then she went back further, expecting to see nothing, but a few minutes
before, he had been standing there as well.  Continuing back until the
figure vanished, she said, "Since almost midnight.  Several hours."

"Do any of the other cameras--"

"No, we already checked the other one that covers that area."

Daniel stared at the monitor for a moment, wondering why the figure
moved off for a few minutes.  "Go back to where he moved out of sight
for a bit and play it normal speed."

They watched those several minutes multiple times, but couldn't tell why
the man had moved.  They could only hope that examining the footage on a
larger screen would help.

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

"Did you and Major Carter find anything?" Hammond asked a little after
three that afternoon.

"Yes, there's about six hours of this," Daniel said, and he brought up
an enlarged image of the man--unmistakably Lucien LaCroix--standing with
his eyes shut among the pines surrounding the base.

"Six hours?  He just stood there for six hours?" Jack asked.

"Pretty much.  At one point he walked back out of sight, then returned a
few minutes later.  He probably stood there as long as he could--until
half an hour before dawn," Daniel continued.

"And this man and Parker have some sort of...mental connection?"

"It seems that way," Sam answered.  "Parker was in his room all night
and had been sleeping soundly until LaCroix initially appeared.  A few
minutes later, Parker became restless."

"And once he woke, after the man moved away and returned, Nick seemed
even more agitated," Daniel added.

"Doctor, do you have any theory on how extensive the connection between
these two might be?"

Fraiser shook her head.  "I have no idea.  It would have to be tested
somehow, and it may be specific to the vampires involved.
Unfortunately, this, like most of their abilities, cannot be
scientifically explained or directly measured.  Or not as far as I
know."

"Then no one is to tell Parker anything about this until the last
moment.  We don't want him unintentionally passing even the slightest
hint of or plan to our unwanted guest."

"So what *is* the plan?" O'Neill asked.  "Drug him and send him back to
Nellis?"

"No, Colonel, he won't be returning to Nellis.  He will either be sent
first to the Beta Site or, if we have an answer before noon tomorrow
from the Tok'ra, they might be willing to hide him temporarily."

"You mean the Alpha Site?" Daniel asked.

"No, I do actually mean the Beta Site," Hammond repeated.  "P3X-984's
sun will be up when he is transferred, but the Beta Site's sun will
not."

"So we are setting a trap for this intruder, Sir?"

"Inadvertently, yes, it will function as a trap."

"Noon tomorrow," Sam said to herself.  "So what if something happens
tonight?"

"Then we allow him," Hammond nodded to the screen that still displayed
LaCroix, "to leave with Parker."

"We're simply going to let him go?" Jack asked, surprised.  "After years
spent locked away at Area 51?"

"If necessary, yes, we will simply allow him to leave."

"Why?" Jack further asked.

"Probably because he hasn't been useful--not to them, anyway," Sam
guessed.  "They've already studied him as much as they could and it's
easier to let him go than have to increase his security and constantly
move him."

Hammond nodded.  "Nellis neither wants the expense nor possible added
danger from continuing to hold him, and our medical science isn't
advanced enough to use what he is for any scientific advancement."

"So they *were* using him for experiments," Fraiser surmised.  "It
wasn't something he--and we--simply assumed had happened."

"He is unaware of any tests they actually ran.  But it would be a
logical assumption."

"From what I could tell from the file, they knocked him out--and kept
him out for prolonged periods at first.  They even admit to taking blood
samples while he was sedated--at least once a month for, probably, the
entire time they had him.  They've had ample opportunity to test both
his blood and anything else they could try."

Hammond nodded.  "After they'd done all their testing and learned all
they could from him, it was more cost effective to give him a position
here, something he needed little or no additional training for, or to
simply let him go.  In fact, since he had proven that he can integrate
back into society--which Major Newell had been unsure of and why he
almost wasn't allowed to come here in the first place--he was actually
in line to be offered a permanent position here and have his security
detail slowly phased out, starting in a couple of weeks."

"So much for that," Daniel muttered, mostly to himself.  He knew that
likely would never happen now.  The comments about science not being
advanced enough to use him made him wonder, though, so he asked, "And if
he does leave--or LaCroix takes him, since he doesn't actually want to
leave--will they be followed?"

"If Parker leaves this facility, anything that happens after that is out
of my hands.  I suspect that his rescuer will be seen as a more valuable
target than Nick himself, however.  But it sounds like he'd be a lot
more dangerous as well, which would factor into any decision to follow
or capture them."

"But they could at least keep tabs on them until our technology advances
enough to use them," Sam stated.

"Certainly possible, Major.  Vampires have an amazing resistance to
disease and heal rapidly from most injuries, something that would be
highly valuable if it could be replicated.  Their blood can cure
otherwise incurable diseases, or at least put them into remission, but
not without side effects, emotional instability at the very least, or--"

"Becoming one of them," Fraiser finished.  "Which has its own side
effects."

"So what are we going to do, exactly, in each case?" Daniel asked.  "If
Nick's here or if he's not?"

"If Parker is here and this man can get to him, we will try to detain
the intruder--but only if doing so puts no lives at risk."

"Then, Sir, he really should be told," Fraiser noted.

"According to what I've heard from both you and Dr. Jackson, that seems
unnecessary," Hammond said.

"Nick specifically mentioned that while he would prefer to stay, that he
would leave if he had to...to help prevent casualties," Daniel
explained.

"Security will be told to stay out of their way, and I believe Parker
will do anything he can to minimise harm to others if left to his own
devices.  That's his main concern about staying here."

"And if he isn't here--if you send him through the gate--then what do we
do?" Jack asked.

"Then we attempt to get him--LaCroix--to leave, and if he doesn't, under
no circumstances do we tell him where Parker is, or refer to him by that
name."

"What if he makes us answer?" Daniel asked.

"Then hopefully the Tok'ra will be willing to take Parker so that we'll
have no information to tell him."

"And if he doesn't leave when he finds out his friend is no longer
here?" Jack asked.

Rather than reply immediately, Hammond stiffened and took in a deep
breath.  "Either Parker will have to be retrieved so he can leave with
him, or LaCroix will be taken to Nellis by force."  Hammond nodded
toward the still image on the screen.  "He won't be staying here any
longer than absolutely necessary."

"So Nellis is okay with another vampire, but they don't want Parker
back?"

"They won't have a choice.  They'll have to take him, same as when they
got stuck with Nicholas Knight, as he was known at that time."

"Yeah, but Nick was delirious or at least disoriented, and didn't
actually harm anyone, whereas--"

"Whereas it sounds like LaCroix could possibly harm or even kill
someone," Daniel said, cutting Fraiser off.  "And would not hesitate to
do so."

"If we believe Parker," Jack added rather sceptically.  "You do realise
he could be lying to make it easier for him to escape or--"

"I do not believe he would lie to facilitate an escape," Teal'c stated.
"If he wished to leave, he would have done so before now."

"I suspect we'll all know for sure in the next day or two," Hammond
said, his attention focused on Colonel O'Neill.  "And yes, you will all
be staying here, at least until we know if this LaCroix can bypass
security or not."

Jack was the only one who showed discomfort at the idea of remaining on
base, but he didn't comment.  When it came down to it, he was curious
about what another vampire might be like...how Parker might compare.

"So what do we tell Nick?" Daniel asked.

"That a plan is being formulated, and that it will go into effect
tomorrow.  You can't tell him what it is, in case LaCroix could somehow
get wind of it from him through whatever mental connection they might
have.  Then tomorrow, before he leaves and well after sunrise, he will
be briefed on that plan.  It'll be too late for our uninvited guest to
do anything by then.  At that time, you will also ask him what he wishes
us to do if LaCroix comes here but refuses to leave on his own--would he
rather come back to remove his...father...or not.  Be sure Parker knows
that we will not tolerate that individual's presence for an extended
stay."

"And if he asks about tonight?"

"Then you tell him that he is staying and that Security has a
description of who to be on the lookout for," Hammond answered, his gaze
on Daniel.  "You are all dismissed.  And don't forget--"

"We all need to stay on base.  Got it," Jack finished
unenthusiastically.

Hammond nodded and stood while everyone started to leave--except Dr.
Fraiser.

She waited until SG-1 had filed out before saying, "General, I'm a bit
concerned about Nick Parker's reaction to all of this."

"From what I understood, his behaviour hasn't changed significantly.  I
believe he's been distracting himself with work--a perfectly normal
reaction, considering the circumstances."

"Yes, Sir, but he did skip his breakfast," she informed him.  "Daniel
told me.  He said Nick picked the blood up, but left it in his
room--untouched.  If I'm right about why he left it, he'll do the same
thing tonight and tomorrow morning."

Fraiser stopped for a moment, considered leaving, then before Hammond
could ask, she explained, "His...father...only found him after the
sedatives were fully out of his system and he was adequately fed and
back to full strength.  I suspect he's doing this in an effort to make
it harder for LaCroix to pinpoint his location."

"Or make him think he's no longer here."

"Possibly, but I don't think that's what he wants or is intending--nor
do I expect that is even possible at this point, beyond more drastic
measures.  I think he wants to weaken the connection between them or,
more likely, to at least avoid strengthening it further."

"But he is physically weakening himself by doing this, correct?"

"Yes, probably," she admitted.  "Which could be okay, since I suspect
his physiology is equipped to deal with periodic fasts, but I'm not sure
how it would impact his ability to deal with another vampire.  And I'm
hoping we won't have to find out."

"From the sound of it, I believe we will at some point--soon," Hammond
reminded her.  "Possibly tonight."

"Which raises another question--where do you want to put our guest if he
shows up and we manage to get to him before he gets to Parker?"

"The nearest free medical isolation room."

"Assuming that the formula that was used to knock Parker out will work
on LaCroix," Fraiser noted.  "It should, but I doubt he'll simply stand
still and let us give it to him.  It might be a good idea for Security
to be armed with tranquilliser guns, in addition to Zats and syringes.
That might have been enough for Parker, but LaCroix..."

Hammond nodded at the suggestion.  "Agreed, Doctor.  I'll see to it."

"Thank you, Sir.  I'll prepare more darts."

"Will it disable him--for sure?"

"As I said, it should.  The paralytic kicks in first, so we should
literally be able to contain and move him in just a few seconds."

"Will multiple doses kill a vampire?"

"No, Sir, I don't think so--not permanently, at any rate.  However, I
should note that even one dose would kill one of us without immediate
medical attention."

Hammond tensed a little at that, but he already suspected the last.
"You should probably get some rest, Doctor.  If there's a security
breach tonight--"

"I'll need to be rested and ready to go.  Yes, Sir," she said and left.

Hammond remained seated at the briefing room table for several minutes.
He wasn't sure what he hoped would happen.  Would Lucien LaCroix try
entering the base at all, and if so, would it be tonight or the
following night, and would the vampire willingly leave or not if he
found his quarry already gone?  Too many questions.

He found it both odd, yet quite 'human', to learn that Parker didn't
like the idea of leaving with his family.  Earlier that morning Jackson
had proposed that the two possibly didn't get along in general, although
the reason for that strife would remain unknown unless they could get
further information--which was highly unlikely--from Nick.  Their only
guess was a probable and obviously profound difference in opinion.
Nick's behaviour, however, did offer some insight into that guess.

Although a vampire, Parker wanted to prevent harm to others and even to
help others, if his previous job choices meant anything.  Even his
concern for those on the base pointed in that direction.  He certainly
was not at all what anyone envisioned upon hearing the word 'vampire'.
LaCroix, however, sounded like a perfect fit.  Whether or not the two
were indeed complete opposites--which was what they sounded like--the
two seemed to be vastly different on several counts.



A Trial Run - (13/32)

Fraiser had taken a nap, then waited in the infirmary for Nick to drop
by.  She figured he would do a repeat of what he had done that
morning--pick up the blood, but not use it.  Instead, he didn't even
come in for it.  Deciding to talk to him, she went by Daniel's lab, only
to find Nick hadn't been there, not since sometime before or during
their meeting.  Parker had been in his quarters, apparently asleep.  Or
that's what it looked like on the security feed.

Seeing that, she almost changed her mind about talking to him, but after
the elevator made it back down to level 21, instead of getting off, she
changed her destination to level 25.  If he was indeed asleep, then
she'd leave.  If he wasn't, she wanted to at least make sure he was
fully aware of any side effects he might have from abruptly halting his
blood consumption.

Reaching his room, she was faintly surprised Nick's guard hadn't been
reinstated during the day.  Sunset was also less than an hour away, and
they expected LaCroix to make his move shortly after that time, either
tonight or tomorrow.  They must have been posted elsewhere, probably to
prevent the intruder from getting this far into the complex.  If he did,
there'd be no point having any guards here.

Fraiser knocked and said Nick's name, but heard no response.  Instead of
letting herself in, she told the quiet room she'd leave if he was awake
and didn't want to be bothered, but she didn't get an answer to that,
either.  Slowly entering, even from the light from the hall, she could
tell that Nick wasn't sleeping.  His breathing was far too rapid,
considering how otherwise still and stiff he lay.  She quietly shut the
door, then walked in the dark to a desk lamp, which she flipped on for a
little light.  He still hadn't moved even slightly.

Her patient lay against the wall, half on his side and half on his back,
knees slightly bent, and his hands across his heart.  Sleeping now or
not, she suspected he had at least been attempting to do so.  His
position backed into a corner made her think he was subconsciously
trying to hide, perhaps worrying about tonight.

She sat lightly on the edge of the bed, her focus on Nick's relaxed
body, except for his too-quick, shallow breaths.  "Why didn't you tell
me to leave?  I would have.  I still will, if you want me to.  And I
know you're not asleep."  She watched his eyes snap open and stare
directly at her, his body tensing, almost pulling back.  "Should I ask
if you got any sleep this afternoon?"

"Probably not," Nick muttered.

"I could always knock you out.  That would make it harder for anyone to
take you some place you don't want to go."

Nick was tempted by the offer, but he shook his head.

"I didn't think so," she replied, trying to sound more teasing than
disappointed.  At her action, he almost scowled at her, which she
certainly hadn't expected.  "Why did you take the blood this morning if
you weren't going to use it?"

"Is that why you're here now?  To force me--"

"Not at all; I only wanted to see how you're doing.  See?  I didn't
bring anything with me."

Nick looked her over as she raised her empty hands.  Nothing seemed to
be hidden behind her, and he hadn't heard her set anything on the floor.

"I think I understand why you didn't use it, and why you didn't drop by
this evening...or at least I have a suspicion," she amended when he
narrowed his eyes at her.  "LaCroix was able to find you because of your
lack of sedation and the new feeding regimen, correct?"

"So they spotted him on the security footage?"

Fraiser took a deep breath, and confirmed, "Yes."

Rather than answer the earlier question, Nick shifted onto his back and
stared up at the ceiling.

"Is it wise for you to fast right now?  And regardless of the answer to
that, will doing so be detrimental to you if something happens tonight?"

Nick considered as long as he thought he could before she would prod him
again, finally answering, "Wise?  Probably not.  Detrimental in the
short term, to either me or others, for tonight?  No."  After a pause,
he asked, "Does that mean I won't be here tomorrow night--one way or
another?"

"Ah, I can't tell you quite yet, only that we are working on something."

"But not for tonight," Nick stated.

"No, not for tonight.  Don't worry.  Everything'll be all right."

"You don't know that."

"I do know that the few times base security has been breached, it's been
dealt with, and having advanced warning will make it that much easier."

He tensed and turned his head away from the ceiling.  She was trying to
assure him, but instead it only made him worry more.  "You don't know
what you're dealing with."

"I think we have a general idea."

"Even I don't know what he'll do, what he'll be like.  He could be
diplomatic...or murderous.  Or both.  Or somewhere in-between.  He could
be right in front of you...and you'll have no idea what he'll do until
he does it."

"Believe it or not, he doesn't sound that much worse--or that
different--from some other unpredictable and dangerous individuals we've
dealt with, so don't worry.  We'll be careful if--or when--we meet him.
You shouldn't worry too much about us."

Nick stared back toward the ceiling.  "Will you tell me if anyone gets
hurt--or worse?  Or would you keep that from me?"

Fraiser tensed when he glared back at her, a hardness to his expression
she hadn't seen much of lately.  "If you want to be informed, I'm sure
that will be okay."

"Yes, I want to know.  I want to know how many die or are hurt because
of me--and how."

"If anyone is injured or killed, it won't be your fault.  It will not be
because of you.  If LaCroix harms anyone, the only person at fault will
be him."

"But he wouldn't even be here if not for me, so--"

"Those here could still be injured or killed by some other means.
Everyone here, even those who don't know vampires exist, knows that
working here is far different than working at a normal military base.
It can be highly dangerous, even for those who stay on Earth.  And I'm
sure you already know that."

Nick kept silent.  As far as he was concerned, anything that happened
when LaCroix came for him was his fault.  Not directly, but his sire had
harmed those in his life often enough that this, too, would be his
fault.  He should never have allowed Fraiser to stop sedating him.  It
was his fault that LaCroix had found him.

"Hmm, well, before I go...while I won't forcibly give you blood, at
least not right now, I would like to know if you intend to continue your
fast beyond tonight."

"I don't know," he whispered, not turning to face her.  "It depends."

"Depends on...?"

"It'll depend on what the plan is.  I think you know that."  Nick
shifted again, moving away from the wall, but turning so that he faced
it rather than his visitor.  "Please go."

Fraiser pursed her lips lightly at the curt dismissal.  "All right, I'll
go.  And I'll see you in the morning."

"If I'm still here."

She wished she could say something, anything to lift his mood or make
him less tense, but the most she dared was to touch his arm while she
stood.  Even that was a risk, and her heart sped up when he snatched her
fingers, forcing her to lean over him slightly.  "Nick?"

"If he gets in...please just let him take me.  Don't get in his way.  I
genuinely don't want anyone to get hurt--or killed--because of me," he
said with a glance behind him, then released the doctor's hand and faced
the wall again.

Fraiser didn't try to assure him everything would be fine--after all, it
might not be.  Instead she quietly turned out the lamp and left.  She
did hope she'd see him in the morning and that Lucien LaCroix wouldn't
come for him tonight.  She didn't like the sound of resignation she now
heard in his voice.  He didn't want others to risk their lives for him;
in fact, he was offering his own to keep her and the others safe.

Nick had just gotten used to being at the SGC and around
people--barely--after his stint of several years of isolation in a cell,
accompanied by--in her opinion--mistreatment, which had followed on the
heels of a year or so that would probably cause a nervous breakdown,
severe depression, or even psychotic episodes in most humans.  And that
was only from what was on the record and researchable.  In addition,
from what she understood, this older vampire that had come for him had
in all likelihood been a part of that life.  They'd never discover any
additional issues that man might have caused him during that time,
though, but it didn't mean he hadn't.  Nick might not be mentally ready
to deal with him again, even if the two were like-minded--which didn't
seem to be the case.

Janet felt a bit lost as far as what to do or feel.  She ended up going
to the mess hall for something to eat.  It would be a long night, and
she was unsure when she'd get another chance to eat without too much
extra stress.

Then, after the sun had fully set, she went to Sam's lab.  Sam and
Teal'c were there, waiting, watching security monitors.  They had four
different views--Nick's quarters, the security checkpoint on level 11,
the checkpoint at the entrance to the facility, and one of the
surrounding terrain.  The last was because Sam figured LaCroix might
come back to that same spot, and sure enough, about a half hour past
sunset, a blip appeared.  Going to that particular screen, they could
tell it was the same man from the previous night.  He wasn't going to
simply give up.

During the night, nothing much happened.  Sometimes the man stood there
watching, but as the night progressed, he left for longer and longer
periods of time.  Nick became the most agitated when LaCroix wasn't at
his spot on the screen, and by the looks of it, he didn't get a single
second of sleep from the time the older man popped up outside.

Around three in the morning, the other vampire left...and seemingly
never returned.  Nor did he show up on any of the internal cameras.
Eventually, not long before dawn, Fraiser noticed Nick had finally
fallen asleep.  No one felt very assured, despite that it now appeared
everything would be normal for another day.  Sort of.  Nick would be
leaving--for somewhere--around noon, and SG-1's delayed mission would be
a go an hour later.

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

Close to dawn, Natalie returned to her and LaCroix' hotel room with a
garment bag over one arm.  She used the hotel key, then locked, bolted
and chained the door.  The 'Do Not Disturb' placard had already been put
out sometime while she had been gone.  Turning, she froze.  Across the
room, a young man--a soldier, judging by his clothes--was tied to one of
the hotel chairs.  He was unconscious and weak.

LaCroix entered from the room's balcony, shutting the french doors and
pulling the curtains tight, but he didn't comment or explain.

"How long has he been here?"

"Two hours," he said rather dully.  "Did you manage to obtain them?"

"Air Force uniforms for both of us?" she said, walking to the nearer of
the two beds and laying down the garment bag.  "Yeah, I got them."

"And no one saw you?"

"Hopefully not.  What about you?  Did anyone see you take him?" she said
with a nod to the young man.

"No.  I followed his car from the facility, then took him from his
home."

Natalie walked forward toward the unconscious man.  His breathing
sounded off.  "What did you do to him?"

"Questioned him."

"How?" she asked, gently shifting the man's head so that it fell to the
side.  No bite marks, so he hadn't fed from him at least.  She didn't
see any fresh bruises, either.  His breathing was still rough, however,
and Natalie glared stonily up at LaCroix.  "How exactly did you question
him?"

"Precisely that.  I questioned him.  'Persuaded' him, if you prefer.
Then I made him sleep.  Nothing more."

"Then why is his breathing--"

"He was sent home because of the flu.  His physical state is not my
doing."

Natalie checked the man's temperature with the back of her hand on his
forehead, and indeed he felt a little too warm.  She sighed; it was
probably good that the young man was in a forced nap--he would probably
feel better when he woke.  It also meant he probably wouldn't be missed
for a couple or even a few days.

"Satisfied?"

She ignored the question; he knew she didn't want anyone harmed
unnecessarily.  They both knew Nick wouldn't, either.  That was probably
why LaCroix hadn't fed from the poor man or put him permanently to
sleep.  And also why she didn't feel quite as mad as she really wanted
to.  "What did you find out?  Does he know where Nick is?"

"He had very little to impart," he answered.  "The facility has
twenty-eight levels, with multiple security checkpoints.  He knows
nothing of Nicholas, nor of any vampire--nor anyone, for that
matter--being held prisoner inside."

"What about a medical office?  If it's that big, they have to have one,
and someone there would certainly know what Nick is if they brought him
here."

"Level twenty-one...past all the checkpoints, three-fourths of the way
down."

"And their command centre, their headquarters?"

"At the bottom."

Natalie stiffened.  So they would have to go quite deep into the
facility, at least down to the medical office, unless they could first
pinpoint where Nick was.  He would surely be past all the security
checkpoints.  Her anxiety that they could be caught greatly increased,
but she asked, "Where exactly are the checkpoints?"

"The first is the main entrance.  There, all ID's and vehicles are
thoroughly checked."

"That part should be simple enough."

"Then upon walking in...a palm-print reader," he said with a cringe of
distaste.  "He couldn't or wouldn't tell me whether there are exceptions
to this procedure, or what they might be.  The last checkpoint is on
sub-level eleven, and sounds much like the first."

Natalie took a step closer to LaCroix.  "What do you mean--couldn't or
wouldn't?"

"Some of what he revealed..."  Again, an odd cringe flashed across his
features.  "At any other time I would have passed it off as delusional
ramblings, but although he is definitely ill...he remained lucid."

"Other than your prying, of course."

"Oh, he was quite pliable.  He went into more detail than necessary at
times.  I barely had to try."

"So what did he say?"

"It would seem that NORAD is not alone in having its main base of
operations here.  They occupy only on the first few levels.  The
majority of the facility is used by something known as the Stargate
Program," he said with a smile.

When LaCroix paused, Natalie narrowed her eyes at him.  He seemed oddly
pleased, even for him.  "Which is...what?"

"According to our guest--if he is to be believed--the stargate is an
alien device that can transport one to other planets...and one of these
stargates is apparently inside this facility.  The military here
routinely use it to travel to other worlds."

Natalie nearly froze in disbelief.  "Are you serious?  An alien--"

"Device for travelling to other worlds.  Indeed, or so it seems."

Pushing away her disbelief, she commented, "Which explains why Nick
might have been moved here.  Vampires probably rank up there with aliens
when it comes to top secret status."

"It explains nothing!" LaCroix nearly yelled.  "If I were the commander
of this stargate program--one extraordinary secret in itself--I would
certainly *not* want to deal with another.  The risk of having to
selectively disseminate this second secret to those already under the
strain of the first one would be...  I simply would not permit it!"

"Well, someone did."

"Which means either there must be another checkpoint, or else the
personnel at at least one of those three locations have been let in on
the secret," he said, his focus zoning in more fully on Natalie while he
moved toward her.  "Can you tell me what that implies?"

"They probably know about our abilities, what we can do."

"Which means?"

Natalie tensed when he moved right up to her side.  This was becoming a
lesson for her, or a test of sorts, but she knew the answers already.
"It means they'll be more likely to shake off our suggestions.  If they
work at all."

"And even if it does appear to work..."

"It might wear off quickly, especially if triggered," Natalie whispered.

"As you yourself are quite aware..."

Natalie's eyes darted toward where LaCroix stood beside her, just for a
second.  As a mortal, she had had more than one experience being
hypnotised by vampires.  First by Nick, soon after they had met.  More
than once, at that, but he had failed.  And then the first time she had
met LaCroix, he had drugged her to overcome her innate resistance--of
which he was fully aware--and even then he had gained no more answers
than if he had simply spoken to her.  It had, however, taken a couple of
weeks to piece together what had actually happened that
night...including the few days before that, since Nick had apparently
taken advantage of her drugged state to put a stop to what had been an
increasing closeness of their relationship.  Not that that had changed
things in the end.  But she had never told him that she remembered
anything of that fateful night.  Nor had she told LaCroix, for that
matter.  Right now was the closest they had ever come to talking about
that incident.

LaCroix watched Natalie stiffen, and he slowly walked around her while
he thought, remembered.  "We will have to choose our words carefully.
It is unlikely they will all be ill and exhausted like our young
lieutenant."

At the return to their conversation, Natalie turned to face the tied-up
mortal.  "And we'll release him before we start, right?  Unharmed?"

"*Yes*," LaCroix hissed.  "But not until the last moment."

"Did you get any idea of when would be the best time to go in?"

"As I suspected, the facility is more active during the day.  Security
into the base is the same, regardless of the time."

"So we go at night when the base should be relatively empty.  The down
side to that is it'll probably be easier for them to follow our
movements.  Or, if we go in by day, we can use the advantage of more
people around to make that at least a little harder."  Natalie paused a
moment before adding, "But having more people around might also mean
more who would find out about vampires if something goes wrong.  Plus
the obvious issue of the sun being up."

LaCroix had already considered all of that--and more.  If this was an
elaborate trap, those at the base would anticipate any vampires trying
to enter to come at night.  It was the logical time.  "We shall go in
tomorrow morning after sunrise, when it's busiest at the entrance."

"Are you sure about that?"

"The facility itself is underground, and a forest surrounds the
mountain.  You may be a bit singed, but will be fine."

"I'm not worried about myself."

"Nicholas will be fine.  He has fled from worse...and in worse
conditions."

"Environmental, perhaps, but we have no idea what state he is in.  And
don't tell me he'll be fine, because as far as I know, he's never been
through anything like this.  It's been years, LaCroix, not months or
weeks or days.  We don't have a clue what he's been through, and we
won't until--"  Natalie shut her eyes.  She was worried Nick might be
mentally and emotionally totalled...to the point he might require help
and that they'd be caught trying to get him out.  And she could lose him
for good.  "I take it you have a plan of some kind?"

LaCroix gave her only a slight grin.  "Not quite yet.  Or no details,
other than when to go in...and that."  He nodded toward the garment bag.
"Did you also get the appropriate insignia?  Every detail will be
noticed."

Natalie set her jaw, reached into her coat pocket, and pulled out a
clear plastic bag that jingled a bit before she tossed it at LaCroix.
After he easily caught it, she answered, "Exactly as you said.  Have you
decided on our ranks yet?  Or yours at least?  A General?"

LaCroix chuckled.  "While tempting...  No, going in as a Colonel would
raise fewer suspicions."

"And me?  Since you appear to have this planned..."  Natalie paused,
glancing to their guest.  "Why not go today?"

"Too many loose ends.  For one, we'll need a different car--your rental
is not acceptable for this purpose; the Illinois plates would
undoubtedly raise a flag.  We will also need to return our guest safely
to his home.  And as you are..."  He paused long enough for his eyes to
settle on her long, rather curly and, at the moment, far from contained
hair, then turned away, continuing, "You will possibly expose us as
impostors.  Then--"

"What on earth do you mean by that?" she interrupted.  "You know I
won't--"

LaCroix cut her off, shaking his head.  "Not to worry, my dear," he
said, almost smiling.  "Your hair is our main concern.  As is, it would
not be acceptable for an Air Force officer, but that can be easily
fixed.  All you really need do is put it up.  And then there is the
hotel room.  We need to stash or destroy any belongings we do not wish
to be found--for example, your driver's license."

Natalie stiffened, starting to feel as if she had somehow become a
liability.

"And we should be well-rested and well-fed before proceeding."

"But I'm not tired, I'm not--"

LaCroix angrily spun, walking toward a green-glass bottle on the room's
lone nightstand, which he snatched up, turned again, and took to
Natalie.  Shoving it directly into her chest, he loomed over her, his
eyes a deep yellow-gold in fury.  "Then *I* will rest.  *You* will
finish that."

Natalie held on to the bottle while he walked away from her again.  This
time he went to one of the two beds and lay down on his back, hands on
his abdomen as if he were relaxed.  This bottle contained what little
remained of the blood she had brought from Chicago.  It was nearly
empty, just a small tumbler's worth left.  "It's almost gone."

"I will procure more for us tonight.  Now drink it and watch our guest
while I rest."

Natalie, however, didn't move.  "No."

LaCroix snapped his eyes open and sat up.  "No?"

"I'll do it.  I'll get more blood.  You need to flesh-out more of our
plan, and I was going to drive the car to Denver, anyway.  Which is
where you'd go for more blood, right?"

"Hmm, yes," he answered, a bit surprised she was volunteering.  He'd
never had much luck convincing her to frequent either of the clubs in
Chicago that catered to their kind.  She had been to the Raven in
Toronto more often...as a mortal.  "Perhaps you could."

This time when LaCroix lay down, Natalie relaxed and, after a few silent
minutes, she poured what remained of the blood into a small glass.  She
reluctantly but quickly downed it upon realising the sun was up.  She
supposed they would have to wait, but she wished there was something she
could do.

Her gaze locked on the sick soldier, and she vaguely considered
questioning him herself.  She didn't.  He was ill, had a fever, and
already had gone at least one round with LaCroix...and probably would go
at least one more that night.  One person meddling with his mind was
enough.  She might even make things worse.  The best she could do was
keep an eye on his condition.  And wait.



A Trial Run - (14/32)

A few minutes after 9:30 in the morning, Nick groggily made his way
toward the annoying knocking at his door.  He still had on his clothes
from the previous day, and wasn't aware of the time, only that he had
been sleeping without any dreams for the first time in days.  It didn't
really hit him who was there until he actually pulled the door open.

"Oh, good.  I was starting to think I might need to call Security...or
Dr. Fraiser," Dr. Jackson said.

Nick was distracted by both the lack of any guards beside his door and
the stack of folded clothing in Jackson's hands.

"Can I come in for a moment?"

It took Nick several more seconds before he moved back so the other man
could enter.  He closed the door and nodded to the folded clothes--green
rather than the blue he currently had on, and the fabric looked
different.  "Do I want to know?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"But not now?"

"Sorry, no.  General's orders," Daniel replied and set the uniform down,
not turning back right away in an effort to keep another item
temporarily out of sight.  "The next two to three hours are probably
going to be confusing."

"Probably less so than when I first woke up here."

"Ah...probably."  Then Daniel turned, a unit of blood held in front of
him.

"No," Nick said and immediately backed away as far as he could.

"It is a condition of proceeding."

"With...?"

"Our plan.  You will hear all about that in...about twenty-five
minutes," Daniel carefully answered, checking a clock to give a time
estimate.

"What happens then?"

"We'll go to the briefing room, and we'll start implementing our plan.
But only if--"

"I use that," Nick said with a nod to the bag of blood.

"Yes...  It's less than--"

"And what if I refuse?"

"Then nothing will change."

"I'll remain here?"

"Yes, you will remain here."

Nick looked away, knowing what that meant--LaCroix would get to him and,
in the end, he would certainly not be staying.  If he wanted a chance to
stay, or at the very least to stay out of his sire's reach, he had no
choice but to go along with the plan that had been devised for him.
"Give it to me," he said, holding his hand out.

Daniel stepped closer, handing the blood over.  "And, sorry, but General
Hammond asked me to stay here while you, ah, give yourself that."

Nick stiffened, but he didn't have much time...and wasn't as if it
really bothered him.  Actually, it did, but he supposed a needle in his
arm was somehow less invasive than what he'd already done to the mortal.
And Daniel had seen him in the infirmary a few days before while he was
receiving an IV of blood.  "Do I need to change clothes before the
meeting?"

"No, but if you want to take a shower, you should.  If there's time.  As
I said, it may be a bit confusing."

Nick vaguely nodded, then walked back to his bed.  He silently pulled
the IV tubing out of the nightstand drawer, affixed the bag of blood,
and waited for it to travel down the thin clear plastic.

Daniel watched and winced when he rather easily inserted the needle into
his own arm, then lay back and literally pushed the blood along with a
squeeze.  Daniel couldn't help but think when the other man closed his
eyes that it must be from pain.  "Does that hurt?"

Nick opened his eyes and turned his head.  "No, it's not painful."

"Not painful..." Daniel slowly repeated, finding the answer a bit odd.
"Is it...something else?"

Turning his gaze back up toward the ceiling, he hesitated but admitted,
"I can...feel it."

"The needle or--"

"The blood."

"From...forcing it?"

"I'm not forcing it," Nick quickly answered.  "I'm just helping it
along, speeding it up a bit.  What I feel is more the blood entering my
body, but not--  It's hard to explain."

Daniel remained quiet, watching the blood in the bag as it emptied.  It
went far faster than he expected.  Next, since he had mentioned that it
might be advisable for Nick to take a shower, he then waited in the
hall.  They then barely had enough time to head down to the briefing
room.  He had to explain that he couldn't join him...or that he could,
but it would draw attention and invite unwanted questions.

Daniel stayed down in the control room, wondering how Nick would react
to their plan.  The vampire would be sent off-world with SG-10 and a
couple of other, newer transfers--none of whom currently or would know
what their companion was.  They had managed to contact the Tok'ra,
although they hadn't yet received a firm reply from them.  An
orientation was the cover story--Nick simply might not be coming back
when SG-10 did.  That would depend on what happened there at the SGC.
By leaving with SG-10, however, they would likely draw little attention
to his departure, although none of them knew exactly how well vampires
could hear.  Hiding Nick away until a further plan could be devised and
implemented would only work if either LaCroix decided to leave without
Nick, or if he didn't realise 'Dr. Parker' was who he was here for.

A good fifteen minutes later, Sam came up into the control room and
moved slightly out of the way, at which Daniel followed.  "Do you know
how it's going?" she asked with a nod upward.

"Well, he hasn't come back down, so I'd take that as a good sign," he
slowly answered.  Nick would have an opportunity to decline the
mission--which Daniel guessed would have already happened by now, if
he'd decided to do so.  "Has anyone been assigned to take my place yet?"

"No, and Hammond might not assign anyone.  It's just a routine survey
mission, with no signs of civilisation--past or present.  There's
probably more to miss here if for some reason we're not back tonight."

"*If* anything happens tonight," Daniel reminded.  "I mean so far--"

"So far all he's done is watch.  Watch, survey the situation, and
probably solidify his plan.  But from what I heard in my research, I
doubt he's the type to simply give up."

"So rather than leave, what, he'll step up his plan?  I'm not sure
that's a good thing, given what Nick has said about him--what little
he's said."

"We can only hope he'll be sloppy when he comes in.  If he is, it might
be easier to detain him.  If not...he could get fairly far into the base
before being spotted.  And the longer it takes to spot him--"

"The more time he has to do...whatever," Daniel finished.

Sam began to nod, then stiffened.  "Briefing's over," she said, seeing
SG-10 start down the stairs--just SG-10, no Nick Parker.  "Did you tell
him the plan before..."  Sam nodded upward again.

"No.  No, Hammond wanted to wait as long as possible."

Sam nodded.  From what she gathered, this LaCroix could in some way
consciously sense Parker, and she had seen for herself that Nick could,
on some level, sense the other vampire.  None of them had any idea how
extensive that connection might be.  There was only about an hour and a
half before Nick would leave, hopefully not enough time for LaCroix to
realise what was happening and react.  And that assumed he could sense
the younger vampire's thoughts--which he might not.  Finally spotting
Parker walking slowly down the stairs alone, Sam tried to smile.  "I
guess I'll let you get back to your tour guide duty."

Daniel turned to find Nick's stony gaze directly on them.  By the time
he glanced back toward Sam, she had moved away and he again faced the
vampire while he steadily descended the stairs.  "So...how did it go?"
he asked once the other man had reached him.

Nick found the question hard to answer.  He had pretty much just sat
there and said as little as possible.  Even that proved difficult, since
the others hadn't exactly met him before, and obviously wanted to know
more about him.  He also had to try not to look too nervous or
surprised, and surprised he most definitely was--he was being sent
through the stargate.  "I'm not sure yet...but I take it you can explain
now?  Or try to--I think I'm still a bit overwhelmed."

Daniel grinned and gestured toward the exit of the control room.  "We
can, but we should probably do that--"

"In my quarters."

"Yes, and that isn't the only destination you have for the next little
while."

Nick left, his gaze drifting to the stargate for a moment.  He still
couldn't quite believe it.  He was being sent on what sounded like an
orientation mission with an alien race, although it was a bit more
complicated than that.  SG-10, with whom he was tagging along, had no
idea he was anything other than a normal human.  Nor did the other two
researchers like himself, although both had been through the gate
before.  The group who was giving that orientation, however, did know.

Nick felt uncomfortable about that...that beings from another world knew
who and what he was.  After the briefing, Hammond had had him stay to
tell him that he also might not be staying beyond the orientation
session--it all depended on what these aliens, the Tok'ra, thought of
him.  That was all he so far knew.

Arriving back at his quarters, the moment the door shut, he complained
to Daniel, "I'm not sure this is a good idea.  I should either be sent
back to Nellis or remain here.  It's safer for--"

"Don't worry.  If Hammond deems it appropriate, you can be recalled
here."

"And you'll bring me back here if LaCroix...if he kills anyone or tries
to in order to force--"

"We will," Daniel said with a nod.  "Although it probably won't get to
that point."

"Don't underestimate him."

"I don't think we are.  Keep in mind that we have never used all
available resources with you, and--"

"But I've been--"

"Cooperative," Daniel finished.  "I know, but unless you don't think a
tranquilliser gun and several blasts from a Zat can take him out--at
least for a few minutes--I don't think we're underestimating him."

Nick looked away.  While LaCroix seemed capable of easily avoiding
poisons and such, a tranquilliser gun would eliminate the need to get
close.  Combined with the alien weapon, it just might work.  Maybe this
plan would be all right.  Maybe no one would get hurt.  "If anything
goes wrong, I want to come back.  I honestly don't know what he'll do
when he realises I'm not here."

"Do you know how soon he'll know?"

Nick shook his head.  "If he's close enough, he'll know immediately.  If
he's near this facility, he'll know."

"We're assuming he's staying in Colorado Springs during the day."

"Unless he found some place closer," Nick countered.  "Maybe a small
cabin or a hunting lodge."

"But if he is in Colorado Springs--if he's at a hotel or something?"

"In that case, I don't think he'd know right away.  He might sense
something, but I think he wouldn't know for sure until sometime
tonight--assuming he's in Colorado Springs," Nick guessed, then tried
and failed to pace.  "What's next?  Besides changing into those clothes
you brought earlier."

"First, do that, then we'll address any questions you may have.  Next,
you'll need to go by the infirmary.  After that, you'll be given a few
other supplies before you leave."

"And I really am going?  It's not some...diversion...or a ploy?"

"It's not either of those; you're really going," Daniel assured him.
"I'll be in the hall when you're ready."

As Daniel left, Nick felt himself tense.  This trip would bring him even
closer to true freedom than he was now.  There would be no security
detail, and almost no one who knew what he was.

Forcing his thoughts back to the present, he quickly changed clothes.
Then he left his room and followed the mortal.  The next hour, while not
overly hectic, did have his nerves on end.  Dr. Fraiser had once again
had him try to drink a small amount of blood.  That had gone better, but
not much.  She then asked questions about how he would do with only a
minimal amount of blood and roughly how long he would be all right with
no blood at all.  He had needed to guess once more, but it turned out he
wouldn't be fasting.  Rather than normal rations, he would be taking
some blood with him, and if he didn't stay or return with SG-10, he
would easily be able to get more at the Beta Site--a small outpost on
another planet.

Dr. Jackson had given him a piece of paper with gate addresses.  One was
to this Beta Site, another to an Alpha Site which was the main
backup...and one for the Earth's stargate.  He was also given ID
tags--necessary if he went alone to any of the off-world sites,
particularly if done without notice.  Getting back to Earth was more
complicated, and much of his extra time waiting before leaving was spent
memorising a code that he probably would be unable to use--they weren't
providing him with one of the devices to input it on, and so he wouldn't
be able to return easily and directly back to Earth, not on his own.  Or
not unless he wanted to be essentially vaporised upon arrival.

He had also received another surprise at that time--they had armed him
for his journey.  Apparently it was mostly standard procedure...except
that he wasn't given one of the automatic weapons the others had.
Neither were the two other researchers tagging along like himself,
however, so he wasn't being singled out, other than the fact that of
everyone going, he was the only one who had never been through the
stargate.  He now had a handgun, one of the alien weapons, and a knife.
More than enough weapons for someone who didn't truly need weapons in
order to kill.

"So, Parker, this will be your first time, right?"

Nick turned at the voice of SG-10's commanding officer--and temporarily
his as well--but didn't reply.  Instead he deftly loaded a magazine into
the handgun and stowed it away.

"Not your first time handling a gun, obviously," the commander, a
Lieutenant Colonel, noted with approval after the silent display.  "At
least that means I don't need to worry about you accidentally shooting
yourself, right?  You ex-military or something?"

Nick again glanced at the man, but this time, after a moment, he lied,
"I had a friend who was a cop, a detective."

"Was he another language and culture geek?"

Nick smiled a little at that, and truthfully answered, "A bit."

"Looking forward to setting foot on another planet?"

Nick tensed.  He wasn't sure he'd say he was looking forward to it.  He
felt more apprehensive than anything, and the sun had better be down
wherever they were going.  No one had offered even one good-natured or
bad-natured jibe about his sun sensitivity, allergy, condition--whatever
his vampirism was being passed off as.  That hadn't come up as part of
his cover story.  So no one knew.

"Of course he is," another one of the team he was tagging along with
replied.

Nick stiffened a bit when this man leaned uncomfortably close.

"It's a piece of cake.  If you're nervous, just...try not to think about
what it does..."

"I'm not worried about what it does," Nick said, then started after one
of the other soldiers to what he assumed was the gate room.  He had only
seen it from the rooms above, and to be honest, he felt more nervous
seeing the gate operate than at the thought of walking through it.  He
had never seen any video of the gate starting up.  And it had simply sat
there the couple of times he had seen the Earth stargate.  From Daniel's
initial explanation he knew roughly what would happen when the wormhole
connected to another world, and the markings on the floor backed that
up.

Glancing behind him and up toward the control room, he could see Dr.
Jackson--and the entirety of SG-1--watching him.  Nick was rather
surprised one of them hadn't been assigned to go with him to keep an eye
on him, but they hadn't in order to help him blend in
better--supposedly.  He hoped they'd all still be alive whenever he
returned.  He especially worried about Daniel, whom he suspected would
try to talk to LaCroix...and if he didn't, someone else certainly would,
perhaps Dr. Fraiser or General Hammond.

Nick was only vaguely aware of anything going on around him...until he
heard a strange and rather grating sound--at least to his sensitive
ears--coming from behind him.  The stargate was being dialled.  In a few
minutes, he would be on some other planet.  Outwardly, he barely reacted
as the wormhole formed.  He tensed up and zoned out once again, still
not believing what was happening until he felt someone tap his arm.
Most of the others had started up the ramp as casually as if they were
merely filing onto a plane.  It was time to go.

As Nick walked forward, he kept his eyes on those in front of him.  He
slowed after the first two men walked through not quite simultaneously,
the water-like surface reacting quite like the two men had been leaves
falling into a pond, although the ripples dissipated more quickly.
Stopping just in front of the luminous water-like entrance, he ran one
hand slowly down through the surface in a long s-shape and watched it
respond.  Then he felt a gentle push.  Turning, he found SG-10's
commander nodding him impatiently toward the gate.  Nick wasn't sure if
the man was amused or annoyed.  Probably both.  After another quick
glance up at those in the control room, he simultaneously turned and
walked into the unknown.

The two researchers and remaining members of SG-10 followed through the
gate, which shut off moments later.  Jack O'Neill fidgeted for a couple
of seconds before asking, "So, Daniel, geek or nerd?"

"What?"

"Parker's reaction to the gate.  Science geek or nerd?"

Daniel was still a bit put off by the question.  "I'm not sure...  That
wasn't exactly a standard reaction to first--"

"But if you had to pick?"

Daniel narrowed his eyes.  "Why?"

"Because we made a bet," Sam admitted.  "I thought he'd react I guess
more cautiously, like--"

"A scientist," Jack finished.

"Yes, and--"

"I guessed he'd--"

"Act more in awe like a researcher," Sam finished.

"And Teal'c?"

"I believed he would be neither."

"Then I think Teal'c may be the closest," Daniel said.

"What about that...thing he did," and Jack waved his hand vertically
downward through the air.

"I think he was just having a bit of...fun," Sam guessed.  "He had an
opportunity to exercise some of his curiosity, and he took it."

"So--nerd?" Jack asked, hopeful.

"I...agree with Daniel.  Either he's neither, or a bit of both.  No real
fear or surprise...only acceptance and curiosity."

"But--"

"He doesn't fit into a neat little box, beyond being somewhat typical
for a researcher.  But his background is a lot different from most of
the researchers--or even scientists.  From what I've been able to tell,
I think he's a bit of a sceptic, and yet if something can be explained
with facts, he's very accepting.  And don't forget, Daniel and I did
give him a fairly thorough explanation of the gate and how it works."

Jack turned to Sam.  "Back up just one--  You think he's a *sceptic*?"

"Very much so," Daniel corroborated.  "And I hope he does all right with
this."

"And that we don't have to bring him back," Sam added.  "It won't be
good news if we do."

Daniel absently nodded.  Nick was to be recalled only if LaCroix entered
the SGC and they weren't able to contain him.  In other words, only if
the older vampire severely injured or killed someone.  "Well, I'm going
to go get some sleep while I can."

Sam tried to give Daniel a reassuring smile as he left, but didn't think
she managed it.  She hoped they wouldn't be unduly detained.  If
something happened, it would probably be within the next couple of
days...or more precisely, next couple of nights.  And, good or bad, SG-1
and a few of base security were the only ones who knew someone might try
or actually manage to breach security...and they were also the same few
who knew that individual wasn't quite human.

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

It was nearly midnight when Natalie returned to the hotel room with two
bottles of better than average blood--precisely what LaCroix had told
her to get.

She froze seeing him lean over their ailing prisoner.  The young man
looked worse, although he was unconscious again.  LaCroix also looked
worse, although she couldn't define how.  He had seemed a little off
ever since she woke that afternoon, but now...

"Did you have any trouble?"

Natalie pursed her lips, but slowly approached, setting the bottles on
the table next to him.  "I had to use your name, and even then--"

"But you--"

"I got it.  It's as fresh as it gets in a bottle, or at least the
freshest they had."  She paused, then turned toward the sick soldier.
"You questioned him again."

"Yes," he admitted, anger creeping into that one word.

"Earlier you said you wouldn't, that you had already learned all you
could from him."

"I tried *again*."

Natalie tensed, now knowing what was wrong.  He was angry, far angrier
than he had been even earlier that evening.  "Did you get anything new?"

LaCroix straightened, turned, and then took several steps away.  "No."

"Did you question someone else?"

"No."

"Did you take a car from Peterson Air Force Base?"

He hesitated a moment and almost winced, but again said, "No."

"That was your plan, wasn't it?  To get the car--"

"Plans change."

"What do you mean?"

Sharply spinning, LaCroix didn't immediately explain; he didn't
particularly want to tell her what he had discovered.  But if he didn't,
she'd realise soon on her own, so he stated, "Nicholas is no longer
there; he has been moved or...something."

"Are you saying we're not--"

"No, we will proceed as planned.  Our task will merely be more
difficult.  We will not be able to pinpoint his location, assuming he is
even still in the facility.  If he is not, we may at least be able to
glean some information on his current whereabouts."

Natalie silently nodded; yes, even if Nick was no longer there, they
might be able to figure out where he'd gone.  It might even be easier to
get both in and out, now that they wouldn't be trying to get Nick out
with them.  On the other hand, it could still be a trap.  LaCroix had
suggested that very real possibility to her more than once since their
arrival.  "Then we'll have to look for someone who would have seen
him..." she thought aloud.  "You said their medical centre is on level
twenty-one.  Did you find out who's in charge of that?  The chief
medical officer?"

"Dr. Janet Fraiser."

"Civilian or--"

"Air Force," LaCroix quickly specified.  "The medical staff is military.
There are a few civilian scientists, primarily researchers, but most of
the facility is military--US Air Force, mostly.  A few Marines, etc."

Natalie watched his attention return to their prisoner.  He was
distracted by the change in circumstances; that was why he hadn't
confiscated a car for them to use, and why he had questioned the man
again.  "So we agree that if neither of us can sense Nick, track him,
that we find this Dr. Fraiser and question her?"

LaCroix' gaze darted back to Natalie, but only for a moment.  "Agreed."

"And otherwise the plan stays the same, right?"  Receiving a silent nod,
she asked, "So getting a car from the base and taking him home so he can
actually sleep--is that all we need to do?"

"Other than ensure you will not draw attention, yes."

Natalie set her jaw.  "If I'm such a liability, why don't you do this
without me?  Just pretend to be one of them, infiltrate them to find out
where Nick is."

"That won't be necessary."  Slowly, he approached her.  "And I do not
believe you to be a liability...not in the way you are thinking."
Stepping in front of her, he brushed his fingers along her jaw then down
the side of her neck.  Five years ago she would have closed her eyes in
disgust, or tried and failed to push him away, but now all she did was
glare back at him.  "I merely believe a uniform will not temper your
inherent beauty."

"I wish you would stop trying to flatter me.  It won't get you
anywhere."

He chuckled.  "No, I don't suppose it will...but you're observant enough
to know it's not mere flattery...  If it eases your mind, I expect that
I will draw as much attention as you.  It has been some time since I
last took on a military role, after all."

"What, since Vietnam?" Natalie guessed.  "Or did you participate in
Desert Storm?  I know Nick didn't, but--"

"Vietnam is correct."

"Still, thirty years is nothing to you.  And you're definitely from a
military background.  You won't have any trouble blending in."

"Perhaps not, but if any of those at the security checkpoints are
resistors..."

"We'll be caught, I know."

He met her gaze and admitted, "I have no idea what they have done to
him, Natalie...nor do I know what they will do to us if we are
detained."

"I know," she repeated.  "And regarding that, I think you probably have
more to worry about than me."

"And why would you say that?"

"Because you're 2,000 years old.  Probably the only person alive who
witnessed Vesuvius' famous eruption...and who knows what else."

"And unless one of us informs them of that particular piece of
information, no one will be the wiser."

"Assuming they haven't somehow done some deep digging into Nick's
past...and you.  So don't worry about me.  I know exactly how it works,
the questions they'll probably ask.  And I assure you I won't tell them
anything about you.  You know I won't."

LaCroix smiled for a split second.  No, she wouldn't betray him.  He
quickly turned his attention back to their guest.  The sooner they were
rid of the young man, the easier it would be.  "Can you safely sedate
him?"

"Not without stealing--"

"Is he well enough to be drugged into a long, uninterrupted, day-long
nap?"

"Not for the whole day, but he is stable enough--"

"Then tell me what you need.  I will get anything you require to ensure
that he remains...safely unconscious, at least into the afternoon."

Natalie stiffened, but started toward the hotel room's phone.  She
pulled a piece of paper off the pad and wrote down several items.  She
scribbled the name of the medication itself, an alternative if he
couldn't find the first, and supplies to administer the injection, then
gave the small sheet of paper to LaCroix.  "I need everything on that
list.  I don't want to inadvertently give him an infection that he won't
be able to fight off."

LaCroix nodded slowly in agreement, although for different reasons.  He
didn't care whether the soldier suffered, but did not want him to die
under questionable circumstances.  More specifically, he didn't want the
death pinned on them, tied to them.  There was still a chance they could
get in and out of the facility unseen.  "See that the room is cleaned up
and have him ready to leave.  I will see to your supplies."

"Don't forget the vehicle from the base," Natalie reminded him.

"Of course...and I will take care of a few other small details as well."

Natalie didn't get a chance to ask what the other details were, nor did
she try; she suspected she'd find out soon enough.



A Trial Run - (15/32)

"Major Anna Somers?" Natalie said, reading the name off of the ID
LaCroix had given her while they prepared to leave the hotel shortly
before dawn.  "Where did you get this?"

He almost grinned.  "I have my sources."

"Is this a real person, or a made-up identity?"

"She exists."

Examining the ID more carefully, Natalie wondered if Major Somers looked
much like her in reality.  It was her own face on the ID, however.  That
made her wonder where he had obtained her picture.  "So who are you?"

LaCroix handed his own identification over without any comment.

"Colonel Harold Wright?" she read off.  "Harold?"

"I did not get to choose.  The individuals selected required the
appropriate clearance but must never have visited the facility.  Colonel
Wright and Major Somers also work in the same department, the same chain
of command.  Once we are inside, remember that."  He snatched back the
ID with a smile.

Natalie stiffened.  She didn't particularly like the idea of taking
orders from LaCroix, even though that was pretty much what she'd been
doing.  "So what exactly are we?  And what am I?"

"You are my aide...my escort.  I am...  We will use the cover of an
inspection, if required.  A quick inspection.  You should have no
trouble convincing those at the checkpoints--"

"Me?" Natalie interrupted, surprised.  She had assumed he would take
care of that little detail himself.

"Yes, you."  LaCroix slid a set of keys off the top of the room's
television, then handed them to her.  "Time to leave."

She took the keys, then had to force herself to follow him out of the
room.  He held bottle number two in his hands.  They had already
finished the first one, and this second bottle was half empty.  They
would finish that before actually entering the facility--or she would.
It'd depend on how many burns she got from driving.

"Come, Natalie.  We should leave before the sun rises."  Then, almost
leaving, he stopped and turned.  "Put these on," he said, handing out a
pair of black leather gloves.

She took the gloves, then followed him out of the hotel room and into
the hall.  They had set everything up earlier that morning after
returning the ailing soldier to his home.  Then they had changed
clothes, donning their military outfits and appropriate accessories.
She felt quite comfortable--if a little formal--in the uniform.  Better
yet, LaCroix had stopped eyeing her hair and made no further comments
about it now that she had it up in a more appropriate hairstyle.

And while Natalie didn't feel too far out of her own comfort zone, she
wasn't sure about LaCroix.  Rarely had she ever seen him wear anything
other than head-to-toe black, and when he didn't, he almost always wore
dark colours.  Once, at a hospital, she had spotted him in green
hospital scrubs, blending in rather successfully with other medical
personnel to give Nick some of his blood after the younger man had been
'mortally wounded'.  While she felt he pulled off the present uniform
far better than the scrubs, he still looked odd.  Light blue shirts--and
ties in general--were *not* part of his usual dress.

Moments before sunrise, they reached their new, forcibly taken, car.
Getting in, Natalie started it up, pulled on the gloves, then nearly
jumped when something flopped on her head--a black, wide brimmed hat.
It again reminded her of Nick.  She wished she had his heavy coat for
added protection, or even LaCroix'.  Pulling the car out onto the road,
she felt her panic rise.  Sunshine and vampires were a bad combination.
She also hoped the car hadn't been reported stolen, even though she
trusted that LaCroix would have done everything in his power to ensure
that it wouldn't happen before they arrived inside and hopefully left as
well.

"Remember, if we are stopped--"

"I won't say anything.  Or nothing--"  Natalie stopped speaking when he
glared at her.  "If they already know about us, about vampires, and they
know where Nick is--"

"Then we will learn anything and everything we can...without telling
them anything they don't already know."

"And then what?"

"And then we will know where Nicholas is...and we will find him."

Natalie remained quiet, despite her lingering lack of confidence.  As
far as she knew, they still had no plan of how to escape if they were
somehow detained or separated.

Before she could think a moment more, sunlight streaked into the car and
she shirked back in pain.  LaCroix did the same, but unlike her, he
could cover himself fully with a coat--at least for now.

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

Nearly an hour later, although the pair had successfully made their way
into the mountain facility, they still weren't having much luck
completing their mission.  Nick either was no longer there, or they
couldn't track him.  Worse yet, Dr. Fraiser hadn't been in the infirmary
once they found it.  They had then tried to locate her, or Natalie did.

LaCroix had first tasked her with asking the medical staff where their
chief medical officer could be found.  Having no luck, Natalie suggested
the cafeteria.  She checked inside while he waited in the hall.  Then
they returned up one level, where he again had her check inside the
infirmary.

Returning to the hall where LaCroix waited, Natalie shook her head
silently once someone walked by.  Once the soldier was out of earshot,
she asked, "Now what?  We just stand here and wait?  Listening for--"

"No, I have no intention of remaining here longer than absolutely
necessary.  We are apt to be stopped soon."  LaCroix paused, thinking
for a moment, then stated, "Sub-level sixteen."

"Security," she guessed and was rewarded by a smirk and a hand leading
the way.  She had been walking slightly ahead of him, both to look like
an escort and in case they ran into anyone who might be watching for
him.  Starting back toward the elevator, she tried to remain calm as
they passed several others.  It was clear their uniforms were drawing
attention and she agreed they'd be stopped soon, if only to be asked if
they were lost or something.

Then, suddenly, Natalie felt her arm pulled back.

"Behind me.  Now," LaCroix whispered.

The next thing she knew, he had moved in front of her.  About to ask
why, she realised the answer on her own--they were being surrounded.  It
was subtle, but LaCroix had snuck up on her often enough in the past few
years that she recognised what was happening.

A few steps further, and she halted when a man appeared from a
cross-hall and aimed a strange weapon directly at LaCroix' back.  In a
few more seconds, another arrived--a woman with short blonde hair--and
aimed a matching weapon at her.  Not long after, several more people
surrounded them.  Four had the same unidentifiable weapons, two men had
machine guns, and another woman had what she recognised as a dart gun.

They knew.  They had to know.  She wanted to warn LaCroix, but
couldn't--the dart gun was behind him and she didn't think he'd
recognise it for what it was, even if he saw it.  It looked like a
normal rifle at first glance.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing?" LaCroix asked calmly, unfazed
except that he now stood completely still.

"Oh, I think we have some idea," Jack answered, causing the vampire to
turn and face him.  "I think the better question is do you know what
you're doing?"

LaCroix almost smiled--almost.  He glanced toward Natalie, nodding his
head slightly.  "Let her leave."

"Sorry, but we have some questions for both of you," Jack said.  "After
that, you can both leave."

"She leaves.  Now."

"Or...?"

LaCroix stiffened, then he moved ever so slightly forward toward
O'Neill.  "She leaves, now," he repeated.  "Or we shall find out if you
do, indeed, know what you are doing."

"She'll leave when you leave," Jack replied, backing up slightly as the
other man slowly approached.  He didn't want to discharge the Zat until
absolutely necessary--which meant a few seconds later when the vampire
reached to take it out of his hand.

Despite the pain from the unknown weapon, LaCroix continued to reach
forward.  He pulled the weapon free easily...because the man let go and
backed away.  In a split second he was hit again from behind.  Twice.
With the first man unarmed, the vampire went for his second attacker,
wrenching the weapon free before the mortal could send another shot of
painful electrical energy at him.

Shoving this man against the wall, LaCroix held back, not allowing even
a hint of what he was to show, beyond using his strength to grip the
man's neck with enough force to cut off his air supply but not crush
flesh and bone.  He fully expected to be shot again, but for several
seconds the only movement came from the mortal he had pinned to the
corridor wall, who struggled to breathe.  His would-be captors hesitated
and LaCroix smiled...for about two seconds.  Then another man--a man who
didn't feel quite normal to his senses--moved into his peripheral
vision.

Teal'c fired his Zat and O'Neill yelled, "Now!" at which Fraiser shot a
dart directly into LaCroix' back.

Between the pain from the weapon and what was likely a powerful
tranquilliser, LaCroix released his second attacker.  He turned and
zoned in on a woman loading another dart.  He glared at his opponents,
despite the increasing effects of the drug as it worked its way into his
system.  Indeed, these mortals did know what they were dealing with.  He
tried to push away the sensation of weakness and loss of control, but
knew he would fail.

Natalie stayed put until the woman fired a second dart at LaCroix.  Like
the first, it hit its mark.  Then she moved forward, toward him, only to
have the blonde woman move in front of her.

"I wouldn't," Sam said, hoping the other woman would remain where she
was.

Natalie stopped, watching LaCroix collapse...and she knew she'd be next.
And, indeed, most of the mortals surrounding them were now focused on
her.  The man LaCroix had nearly killed, while conscious, had fallen and
was disoriented, and one of the others helped him up.  The first man
LaCroix had disarmed had picked his weapon up and his attention was on
her.  "Are you going to knock me out, too?" she asked, glancing between
the woman closest to her and the man who had first spoken.  "Because if
you are, you might as well do it now."

"That depends," Jack answered, his Zat raised.

"On...?"

"On whether you decide to cooperate," Jack finished.  "Will you?"

"Yes," Natalie answered and waited, holding the man's gaze, hoping he
would believe her.  "To a point, anyway."

"Colonel--"

"Carter, search her and..."  Jack had to think a moment, since only one
room had been purposely set aside; they hadn't expected LaCroix to bring
an accomplice.  "And take her to a holding cell."  He once again focused
on their unexpected intruder.  "Turn around and put your hands on the
wall.  And you should know that if you try to--"

"I know," Natalie said, and after glancing at LaCroix, unconscious a
short distance down the hall, she did as ordered.

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

"How did they get in?" Hammond asked not even half an hour later in the
briefing room.  "Major Carter, I think--"

Sam nodded and brought up a picture from the security feeds on the
projection screen.  The first was of a woman in a car proceeding through
the first checkpoint, then two more still shots at the next checkpoints.
"We expected him to be alone; instead, the woman with him took care of
security, letting him simply walk right in behind her."

"Do we know who she is?" Hammond asked next.

She flinched a little, then pulled up another security image with a
better view of her face, along with another photograph of the same
woman.  "We haven't tried talking to her yet, and her companion never
referred to her by name, but she is almost undoubtedly Natalie Lambert."

"Nick's friend from Toronto who went missing the same time he did,"
Daniel explained.  "She's like him now, isn't she?"

"I think so," Sam said.  "Security has no memory of either of them, at
least not anyone she talked to."

"So how did they get in?" Jack asked, then clarified, "They should have
been spotted at the first checkpoint.  Or if not there, the second.  We
didn't spot them until they made it to the infirmary.  Not to mention
the bright yellow thing in the sky."

Sam changed the graphic again, showing IDs side by side with each of the
intruder's photographs.  "They had what appeared to be legitimate
identification.  Major Somers and Colonel Wright are actual individuals
and have appropriate clearance.  Throw in some hypnotism..."

"How did they obtain the names and information of those particular
individuals?" Hammond asked even as he tried to find fault.  "Obviously
they either have expertise in forging or know someone who does, but to
specifically pick those with the necessary clearance...  I want to know
how they got those names."

"Unlikely to have been luck, Sir," Jack replied.

"And while neither in any way revealed what they are...they know we
know," Fraiser said.  "The man...  Before I fired the second dart, I
could see that he knew there was nothing he could do.  When he wakes up,
he's going to remember how confident we were in dealing with him.  He'll
be even more guarded whenever we talk to him."

"When will he wake up, Doctor?" Hammond asked.  "And are they secure?"

"I'm hoping he won't wake up until after I remove the IV.  And yes,
General, he should be secure."

"But we won't know for sure until he actually tests the Tok'ra force
field," Sam noted.

"And we don't have enough personnel who know what they are to guard both
of them," Jack added.  "Not around the clock, not every door."

"I don't think we need to, Jack," Daniel said.

"I agree," Sam said, then explained, "The woman, Natalie Lambert--I
think she'll cooperate.  After all, she had her chance to leave when we
confronted them--but she didn't.  Her acquaintance wanted her to leave,
even hinted for her to do so--but she didn't.  If I were her, I'd stick
around and cooperate in hopes of learning anything I could."

"Up to a point," Jack reminded.  "She said--"

"I think how much she cooperates will depend on how we treat her,
Colonel," Sam interrupted.

"And if she's anything like the whack job who nearly killed--"

"I'm all right," Daniel stated.  "Fraiser--"

"I still want to do a more thorough exam," she interrupted, "But...to be
honest, if LaCroix wanted to kill Daniel, he would have.  Despite what
he did, Daniel didn't receive so much as a bruise.  His intention was
not to kill, but to disable or--as Major Carter suggested--to distract."

"Is it safe to question them?" Hammond asked.

After a fairly long pause, Fraiser answered, "Probably.  Although I
would recommend talking to Natalie Lambert first.  And once I wake the
man, I would highly recommend we only observe him at first...at least
until we know for certain that the Tok'ra force field will stop him.  It
should, but it might be better if he learns about it first-hand instead
of simply being told."

Thinking that a good idea, Hammond quietly and silently nodded.  From
what he had heard regarding what happened, it definitely sounded as
though the woman was, behaviourally speaking, more like Nick Parker than
Lucien LaCroix...or at least what little they had seen of LaCroix.
"Talk to her, but don't forget what she is.  Focus on how they got those
IDs, why they came here, and what she knows about this LaCroix,
including how he'll react once awake."

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

"Are you sure you want to be the one to do this?" Sam asked when she,
Daniel, and Jack left the infirmary.

"I'm sure," Daniel said, turning slightly toward Jack, who undoubtedly
had the same question.  "No offence, Jack, but you're not exactly
diplomatic."

"I'm not sure diplomacy matters with these two."

"She at least seemed concerned about me, but didn't want to ask," Daniel
stated.  "And I'm okay.  Besides, I'll be armed, and I'll keep my
distance."

"Daniel, she's--"

"She's guarded like Nick was when I first saw him at Nellis...like when
he first came here.  She doesn't trust us and, frankly, has no reason
to."

"Just..." Jack started, grabbing the other man's arm for a second and
turning him fully, stopping their progress down the corridor.  "Just
remember that she has an agenda.  And remember, we're not to--"

"Reveal what we know or even that we know her name unless she gives it
herself," Daniel finished.  He didn't particularly like that condition,
since for her to talk, she needed to trust them on some level--telling
her what they knew could help form that trust.  "I know.  And I'm sure
I'll be perfectly fine."

"If she hurts you--"

"Colonel, she won't hurt him or me or anyone else," Sam said.  "I'm sure
she knows that if she did, we'd retaliate in some way."

"Maybe," Jack said, then started walking again.  "But still...be
careful," he added as they reached the elevator.

Daniel was thankful when Jack didn't make any other comments or
observations until he mentioned their parting paths.  The colonel would
watch from the security room while Sam waited outside in the hall.  She
gave him a nervous half-smile once they reached the guarded room, and
one of the soldiers ordered their prisoner to back away from the door.
One could see into the room through a small, reinforced window, and
Daniel got a nod from the guard, who then unlocked the door with a swipe
of a card.

Slowly entering the room, Daniel kept his eyes on Natalie, who had
backed up against the far wall.  She still had all but the jacket and
shoes she'd had on upon entering the facility.  Keeping the Zat in his
hand inactivated and his arm slack, he waited until the door closed
before asking, "Is it all right if I ask you a few questions?"

Natalie thought the question not only odd, but unlikely.  "Do I have a
choice?"

"Actually...yes.  If you simply don't want to deal with any questions,
then I'll leave."

She hesitated slightly, mildly surprised by the statement.  "I won't
promise to give you any answers."

"But you'll let me ask?"

Natalie held back several seconds before nodding.

"All right.  First, I'd like to introduce myself.  I'm Dr. Daniel
Jackson--"

"Psychiatrist?"

"Ah, no."

"Medical--"

"No.  It's academic.  I'm a doctor of archaeology and linguistics," he
said, then waited, watching for a reaction, but didn't get one.  "And as
for questions...  We know the IDs, the names you used to bypass
security, are not your own...  Will you tell me your real name?"  Daniel
paused, giving more than enough time for her to answer.  She didn't,
merely stared evenly back at him.  "Or tell me your friend's, your
companion's name?"  Again he waited, and again received no reply.  "How
about how you obtained the IDs and the names?" he asked, expecting this
question would produce no more response than the others.

"I don't know."

"You don't know how they were obtained, or--"

"I don't know anything about those IDs," she replied, telling the truth.

"So the man you came in with--he got them?" he asked for clarification,
but she again didn't reply.  Daniel felt frustrated--this was harder
than questioning Nick Parker.  He took a deep breath before moving on to
the next question.  "Okay, now...why did you come here?"

Natalie saw her chance and she turned the question back on its
questioner, pushing for what he knew, "*Why did I come here?*"

Although prepared, and fully expecting to be manipulated by her mind
control at some point, Daniel still had a hard time resisting.  "Why
you--specifically--came, I don't know," he managed, finding he couldn't
lie, but could merely make his answer vague.  Assuming she wouldn't give
him an answer, he changed questions before she could try again and
asked, "The man you came with...  I'm sure you remember how he reacted
when we stopped you, confronted you, and--"

"Did he injure you?"

"No, not much," he admitted.  "He knew what he was doing.  I'm just not
sure whether I should feel thankful...or lucky."  He paused, but the
woman didn't give any clues.  "If we talk to him, will he react
similarly--be violent again?"

"I don't know," Natalie answered.  Wanting this man to understand that
she wasn't simply trying not to answer, she apologised, "I'm sorry, but
I really can't guess; he's too unpredictable and hard to read.  And you
should probably feel lucky."

"So you're saying he could react similarly, but he might not?"

Natalie kept quiet, not confirming--or denying--the question.  She
didn't want to say any more than necessary.  She looked up and met his
gaze, having a question of her own.  "Will you really let us leave, like
you said?  Or like the other man said."

"If you continue to cooperate, yes."

"And the man who came with me?  Will he be allowed to leave, too?"

Daniel didn't answer right away, and when he did, he felt and sounded
unsure.  "If he cooperates, then yes--probably."  He paused, knowing
that wasn't the real issue.  "Will he leave if we allow it?"

Now it was Natalie who hesitated, but she answered, "Depends on whether
he gets what he wants."

"Which is...?" Daniel further asked, but again she gave no answer.  "All
right.  What about yourself?  Will you leave if you're allowed?  Or will
that depend?"

"It will depend."

"On whether you get what you came here for, or whether your companion
leaves--if allowed?"

"Probably both."

Daniel nodded slightly.  Assuming her guess that LaCroix wouldn't leave
unless he got what he wanted--which he supposed was either Nick himself,
or at least some information on his whereabouts--then both conditions
were the same.  "May I return later, or would you prefer someone else?"

"To question me?"

"Ah, probably," he admitted.

"Same questions?"

"Hopefully not, or not entirely.  You know, it really would help both of
us if you answered."  He waited, but she merely stared at him, almost
glared.  "If you need anything, you can let me know or tell the soldiers
outside that you need to speak to someone."

Natalie almost smiled, asking, "I can't simply tell them what I need?"

"You could, but they'll still have to contact someone else, so...  It
won't save time, if that's what you're thinking."

Now she fully smiled.  No, it wasn't what she had been thinking.

She kept the mortal's gaze until he excused himself and left the room.
Even after he left, she continued staring at the door.  Dr. Jackson
seemed nice enough, but possibly persistent.  He had even managed to
avoid answering her, despite that, if she had to guess, he wasn't a
resistor.

They obviously knew what she was...and LaCroix and Nick, for that
matter.  Or at least some of them, like Dr. Jackson, undoubtedly did.
He knew something, if not quite a lot.  Knowing what she was--and more
specifically what she could do--perhaps had been enough for him to shake
off her question.  While nowhere near as skilled as LaCroix, she could
do well enough.  She had gotten them into the base, after all.  But the
mortal had been ready for her.  And if he hadn't previously known what
she was, he definitely did now.

Those outside in the hall were another matter.  Natalie wondered if they
knew what they were guarding, or knew anything at all about vampires.
Dr. Jackson hadn't wanted her to tell them anything she might need,
which meant...

She only hoped she wouldn't be there that long.  Hunger was one
sensation she had never managed to get used to, at least not for
extended periods.  Worse, LaCroix became agitated, angry, and downright
murderous when *he* was hungry.  She hoped he wouldn't kill anyone, both
because she didn't want anyone to die and because if he went too far,
who knew what their captors would do to them.

Fighting the urge to pace, she eventually went back to the single
metal-framed bed and resumed sitting with her back against the cement
wall.  All she could do now was wait.



A Trial Run - (16/32)

"Jack, she was perfectly civil, especially considering that she's a
prisoner," Daniel said a half hour later in the infirmary.

"But she tried to--"

"Force me to answer.  I know.  But wouldn't you have done the same
thing?  I mean she probably wants to know more about us than we do about
her."

"And she didn't answer any of your questions."

"Actually, she did," Daniel argued.  "Perhaps not directly, but I
believe that she honestly doesn't know how her companion," he nodded to
a monitor, which showed LaCroix still unconscious, in medical isolation,
"managed to get those IDs."

"She didn't tell you why they came."

"Sir, we already know why they're here, or why they are probably here,"
Sam explained.  "And from what Daniel said--"

"She knows that we know.  Or that we know something at least," Daniel
supplied.  "And based on her expression when I avoided answering her
specifically, as well as when she asked if she could just tell the
guards what she might need..."

"I get the first part--you knew about the hypno thing and she could see
that, but--"

"She was smiling at the last, Jack."

"She realised that her guards don't know what she is," Sam explained.
"But she knows Daniel does, probably along with everyone else who
stopped them.  Which is true."

"Ah, guys?" Daniel said, his eyes on the monitor.  "Fraiser left.  He'll
probably wake up in a few minutes...if that."  While he amended his
guess, the man on the monitor did exactly that, first stirring and then
easily sitting and turning to the side of the gurney.  In a moment, he
was standing.

"Is he awake yet?" Fraiser said, coming up behind the three.  After
glancing toward the monitor, she answered her own question, "Oh, yes,
very much so.  How long did it take?  Was it about like when Nick woke?"

"Almost exactly," Sam answered.  "He woke shortly after you left."

"Then let's see how he reacts and then decide who--if anyone--is going
to talk to him."

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

Upon waking, LaCroix merely stood and tried not to sway or otherwise
show his weakness.  He could feel the drugs lingering, coursing through
his body...something he wasn't at all accustomed to.  The mortals had
removed his clothes and replaced them with stark white scrubs.  While
not thrilled, at least he was not only conscious, but unbound.  He was
also alone in the room, and the observation area above was equally
empty.

The exit to the room, however, was guarded, and after a slow walk around
half the room, he approached the oddly empty space of the doorway.  He
could feel...something, and suspected all was not as he saw it.  As
casually as he could manage, he reached his hand out, then had a hard
time not snatching it back immediately.  There was a force field of some
sort, and his anger at the mortals possessing such technology dulled the
pain enough that he slid his palm and fingers along it until he reached
the other side of the doorway and resumed slowly circling the gurney
upon which he had woken.

He examined every detail of the room and listened intently for every
heartbeat and whisper in the hall...which didn't amount to much.  Three
heartbeats hovered nearby, one belonging to the man who hadn't felt
quite human.  They didn't speak; any voices he heard were further away
and had nothing to do with his presence--or his son, for that matter.
Nor could he tell what time it was or how long he had been unconscious.
Closing his eyes, he could sense that Natalie was still relatively
nearby, but not much else.

The vampire could also hear something watching him, and opening his
eyes, his gaze zoned in on a camera mounted from the ceiling in a corner
of the room.  He smiled, knowing someone had to be watching him, then he
turned slowly away, wondering how long it would be before they
questioned him.

He waited what he guessed to be fifty or sixty minutes before he finally
heard movement in the hall--footsteps approaching--but he didn't budge
from where he stood.  He listened while a woman talked to his guards;
she had them deactivate the technology that blocked the doorway.  Then
she and a second individual, a man by the sound of his footsteps,
approached him.  LaCroix focused on every nuance of their hearts and
rustle of their clothing, but still didn't turn toward them.  Instead,
he casually stated, "So you have finally decided to question me."

"Yes, we have a few questions for you.  I'm--"

"Dr. Janet Fraiser," he guessed, slowly turning until he faced her.

"Y-yes," she confirmed, a bit taken aback that he knew who she was
before even seeing her.  "And this is Dr. Daniel Jackson."

LaCroix' eyes shifted to the man with her--the same man he had
considered strangling.  Once again the man was armed, and he didn't
appear overly afraid, despite their earlier encounter.  "Ask your
questions, if you must."

"How did you obtain the IDs you used to get past our security?"

"I believe we all have our sources..."

"So you went to someone?"

"Of course."

"Who?" Daniel asked, although when the other man smiled, he knew he
wouldn't get an answer.

"Next question."

"Why did you come here?"

"To look for something."

Daniel opened his mouth, but shut it a moment later.  This was
exasperating.  Obviously they had come to look for something; LaCroix
was simply giving a vague but truthful answer.  It could mean anything.
"What about your real names?  We know that while the identifications you
carried were forged, the names and information belong to real
individuals...and they are not you."

"Really?  And that surprises you, Dr. Jackson?"

"Not...really," Daniel slowly replied, making sure his gaze didn't
stray.  "You're not going to tell us your names, are you?  Yours or the
woman's?"

He smiled at that, answering, "No."

"What about where you are from or--"

"No," LaCroix repeated a bit harder, but then added, "Unless *you* wish
to tell *me*?"  Pausing, he examined the two mortals' reactions.  He
could sense it--they knew.  "Will you now let us leave?"

"Would you leave if we let you?" Daniel in turn asked, and watched the
vampire almost smile--more of a smirk, really--and then turn away.  He
had a feeling this would be the end of any conversation, and he was
right.  Nothing he or Fraiser said elicited any reaction or response.
Daniel explained that he--LaCroix--and the woman who had come with him
would likely be released, even asked if they would willingly leave or if
they would resist, but rather than continue with vague, non-answers,
they got absolutely nothing.  Not even a twitch.  LaCroix didn't react
as Fraiser told him not to try to leave, and that if he wanted
something--whether to talk or anything else--to tell the guard in the
hall or even the room at large.  Then they hesitantly left, careful to
wait and see if he would try to follow.  He didn't.

LaCroix remained still for several minutes after the mortals left.  Even
then he only glanced up at a camera, and only for a moment.  He didn't
like not knowing these mortals' plans or even what they knew, either
about Natalie, himself, or his son's whereabouts.

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

"Are you certain neither of them can hear us?" General Hammond asked
late that evening.

"I'm certain," Dr. Fraiser assured him.  "They don't appear to be aware
of each other's' interviews, so the furthest they can hear is two,
perhaps four levels at the most.  It's also highly likely they can't
hear beyond the level they are on and the immediate vicinity.  Certainly
not down here."

"Have they said anything?"

"Nothing new," Daniel replied.

"The man, this LaCroix, what has he said?"

"Absolutely nothing," Fraiser answered.  "He's either been asleep or
feigning sleep since the first time we talked to him.  He's completely
ignored Daniel and me."

"And the woman?"

"I think we should tell her what we know, or at least that we know more
than we're saying," Daniel said.

"Has she said anything?" Hammond asked more specifically.

"No, but I think she wants to," Daniel continued.  "And the sooner one
of them tells us exactly why they're here or what it would take to get
them to leave--which is probably dependent on Nick being here--the
sooner we can get him back here."

"*If* we can get him back here," Jack interrupted.  "The Tok'ra
apparently sent him on some sort of undercover mission.  They hid him
away awfully quick."

"All the more reason to push this now.  She'll talk to us if we explain
that we'll tell her more if she confirms or answers our questions.  I'm
sure of it."

"And then what?  Do we tell her where Parker is?  Do we force him to
come back, or do we tell him the situation and let him decide?"

"He'd want to know that his friend is still alive and here at the base.
I know I would.  I mean...to find out someone you believed to be
dead...wasn't...  Someone you cared about greatly.  I'm sure you can
imagine what that could be like, how you might feel."

Jack stiffened a bit at that, and no one else spoke.

"Right?" Daniel prodded.

"Just...but it's also dragging up the past."  Jack paused a moment, then
asked, "And are we sure she won't, I don't know, snap?  You do know what
we found in the car they drove here, right?"

"A glass bottle with traces of human blood," Teal'c answered.

"A wine bottle," Jack emphasised.  "An empty wine bottle, which, yes,
had once contained human blood."

"And if you review the footage from the first checkpoint, you can make
out burns on her face and hands," Sam pointed out.  "Yet when we found
them, there were no burns.  Her skin in those areas was perfectly
normal, and she looks and--moreover--acts fully human."

"For now," Jack countered.

"If we stay suspicious of her, then she will of us," Daniel said.  "And
think about it from her point of view.  We took out the man with her
with relative ease.  And as far as she knows, we've done the same to
Nick, which frankly we have--not exactly the same way and not 'us', but
close enough.  Point is she has no reason to trust us."

"And you think that by telling her what we know, she'll...what?"

"Be able to help us," Daniel answered.  "Get her to convince Lucien
LaCroix to leave or possibly do the same with Nick.  Granted, that
second is a bit more complicated, since he believes she's dead, but...if
they won't leave on their own...they'll be taken to Nellis.  While Nick
only wanted to return if absolutely necessary...I think her presence
makes that necessary.  He trusts her, or at least he did."

"Doctor, has she slept?" Hammond asked.

Fraiser shook her head.  "I don't think so.  Maybe a few minutes on and
off, but she's been awake at least twenty-four hours at this point."

"We told her she should try to rest, that we wouldn't try to question
her or talk to her until tomorrow morning," Daniel explained.  "We
won't, will we?"

Hammond didn't immediately answer, and instead glanced around the table.
All but Teal'c and Dr. Jackson looked exhausted.  "No, we'll wait to
talk to her again.  Before then, we should all get some rest ourselves.
And I'd like to know where--or who--she's been for the last five years.
So, for now, you are all ordered to stay on base until further notice."
He paused, pushing his chair back from the table a little.  "Everyone
but Dr Jackson and Dr. Fraiser is dismissed."  He then stood as the
others left.

"General--"

"Dr. Jackson...before you ask, yes, we will be either recalling Dr.
Parker, or at the very least alerting the Tok'ra that we will likely be
doing so.  If we plan to talk to her again, we need an idea how long
that will take."

"And we will do that, right, Sir?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, tomorrow morning.  I'll tell her myself that we'll recall
him--once she confirms who she is."  Hammond then turned toward Fraiser
and bluntly asked, "How long before they need blood?"

She shook her head.  "Even with what Nick told me, I don't think there
is any way to determine that without them actually telling us.  There's
no way to know how much blood they had last and when they had it.  All
that we're fairly sure of is that Natalie Lambert probably had some this
morning after arriving inside the facility, probably right before they
left the car they came in."

Hammond nodded and resumed his path.  That would be another thing to
ask.  Assuming they could get an answer.

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

"How's your search going?" Sam asked Teal'c several hours later upon
returning to her lab after a quick snack.

"Quite well, Major Carter," the Jaffa said without looking away from the
monitor in front of him.

"By quite well you mean...?" Sam asked, then watched him scroll the page
up.

"Natalie Lambert has been working at the University of Chicago, at their
medical school and hospital, since January of 1997, under the name Dr.
Natalia de Brabant."

"How...  Teal'c, you just started when I left no more than ten minutes
ago," Sam said, stunned, her eyes locked on the screen.  The photograph
of Dr. de Brabant left no doubt that he had indeed found her last
persona.

"I used the lists you gave me of Nicholas Parker's suspected surnames
and the names he had used for his earlier search.  Natalia was the only
variation of the first name he used that he did not try with de
Brabant--the name he tried the most times."

"So it was the first name you tried?"

"Correct."

"And you assumed, like he had, that she would pick a similar profession,
that she wanted to make it easy for him to find her."

"Indeed.  She used her original profession and speciality, as well as a
surname she knew he would try.  I suspect her chosen city and employer
are likely not coincidence.  In the fifty years prior to moving to
Toronto, Nicholas Parker lived in Chicago on three separate occasions,
even took and taught courses at the University of Chicago."

"And what exactly was she doing there?"

"Working as a physician and medical examiner, and teaching two courses
in forensics."

"Does it say anything about whether she quit or is on leave, or--"

"No, it does not."

"Well, in..." Sam glanced at her watch, "...about four hours, we can
call and find out, if we still don't know."  Leaning over, she focused
on the doctor's supposed degrees.  Compared to making up that
information, and fabricating her past to blend into that, the IDs the
two had used at the base were quite simplistic and probably far easier
to obtain.  Medical licenses and degrees that would pass scrutiny at a
medical school couldn't be easy to come by.



A Trial Run - (17/32)

"This is General Hammond," Daniel introduced his superior mid-morning
the following day.  "He is in command of this facility.  He makes any
final decisions regarding your friend and yourself."

Natalie stared back at the uniformed man.  He carried himself with the
same air of authority as LaCroix, but without the mocking amusement.

"As Dr. Jackson told you last night, unless you answer our questions,
you will either leave without any answers or be detained indefinitely."

"Isn't that the same deal if I do answer?"

"The only so-called deal at the moment is for you and the man you came
here with to leave of your own volition and agree never to re-enter this
facility."

Natalie tensed as Hammond paused, but she forced herself to not look
away.

"And from what I understand, that is unlikely."

"You said this was the only deal 'at the moment'," she repeated, then
asked, "If I answer your questions, then what?  Does that change
anything?"

"If you confirm our guesses as to your identities and your purpose for
coming here, we can probably answer most of your questions."

After a pause, Daniel explained, "You should be aware that we already
know your names and that it's unlikely you would tell us anything new by
answering."

"So how about we start with your name?" Hammond asked, his tone slightly
less stern, but he didn't soften his gaze.

Natalie didn't know how much they knew.  Maybe they did know her name,
but it could also be a trick.  That's what LaCroix would tell her.  It
could be a trick; don't answer.  Don't volunteer anything.  She remained
quiet, pressing her lips together.

"If you have no intention of answering, you'll have to remain here, and
the longer you remain here, the less control I have over where you may
finally end up.  Do you understand that?"

To their uninvited guest, the question sounded like a threat, and she
dropped her gaze.

"If you change your mind, I believe you know what to do."  With that,
Hammond turned and started for the door.

"Wait," Natalie said, almost stepping forward but thinking better of it.
"I--  If you know my name, then tell me what city I lived in...ten years
ago," she asked, then promised, "If you're right, I'll tell you my
name."

Daniel glanced at Hammond, who gave a silent nod, then he answered,
"Toronto."

Natalie stiffened at the correct answer, then replied, "Natalie
Lambert."

"And more recently you lived in Chicago--under a different name," Daniel
prompted.

"Natalia de Brabant."

"And the name of the man you came with?" Hammond asked.

Natalie now ever so slightly hesitated, but answered, "Lucien LaCroix."
Neither man reacted; they already knew.

"And where did you get the forged IDs--"

"I don't know," she said, exactly as she had the first time she had been
asked a day ago.  "I have no idea where or how they were obtained."

"So your friend obtained them," Daniel stated.

"Yes," she answered, growing tired of hearing LaCroix referred to as her
friend.

"And I think you know my final question," Hammond said.

"Why we're here."

"Yes," he confirmed with a nod.  "What you came for, why you
came--everything."

"You know our names and where at least I have lived.  And you
undoubtedly know what we're here for--*who* we're here for," she said,
her gaze locked on General Hammond.  "Where is he?"  When neither made
any move to answer, nor did they look even slightly surprised by her
question, she specified, "Where is Nick?"

"He's...not here," Daniel answered.

"I already know that.  You moved him the day before yesterday, and I
want to know where."

"That's...complicated."

Before Natalie could protest the answer, Hammond explained, "Your
presence here was unexpected, Miss Lambert.  We are working to return
him to this facility, but it may take several days.  It is also possible
that he might not return here at all."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"It is only a possibility."

"If it was only a possibility, you wouldn't mention it, emphasise it.  I
want to know why."

"I'm sorry, but he believes you're dead," Daniel told her.

"And why..." Natalie started, but stopped, sighing.

"Because he will be given the choice whether to return, and because he
might not be informed of your presence here."

"Someone should tell him," Natalie said.  "He needs to know that I'm
still alive, and that I'm here."

"Our chief medical officer will make that decision, keeping his best
interests in mind."

"But it's in his best interest to know.  He needs to--"

"While I agree he should be told if at all possible, Dr. Fraiser will
determine when to do so," Hammond stated.

"And how much does she know about him?"

"Probably more than you do about his recent past...including a little
about his time in Toronto."

"Is she a psychologist?"

"No, and neither are you."

Natalie stiffened a little, but asked, "Has she ever even talked to
him?"

"Yes, she has.  Many times."

"Then I want to talk to her."

"Dr. Jackson has spent the most time with him," Hammond said with a nod
toward Daniel.  "He will likely have more answers for you than Dr.
Fraiser.  First, however, I do have a couple more questions.  Are
you...like them?"

"In what way?" Natalie asked warily.

"I'm sure you know what I mean."

She pursed her lips, holding back a touch of anger.  "Then say it.  Ask
me directly if you want an answer."

"Very well.  Are you a vampire?" Hammond asked, deliberately meeting her
gaze.

"Yes, I am."

"And will you need blood soon?"

Natalie hesitated again; she wasn't used to strangers knowing so much,
asking such intrusive questions.  Being slightly famished didn't help.
"I...yes, I will."

"As will LaCroix, yes?"

"Yes."  After a short pause, she blurted, "Don't tell him.  Don't tell
him where Nick is or--  Just don't tell him anything until Nick is
here--if he comes back here."

"Why?" Hammond asked.

"Just...don't.  Or don't volunteer it, don't tell him any more until you
have to."

"How well do you know the man you came here with?" Hammond continued.

"Well enough.  Nick knows him better, though.  I assume he told you
something about him.  After all, you are talking to me rather than him."

"He did."

"And?" Natalie asked, but this time Hammond neither answered, nor did he
ask another question.  "What has he done so far?  I assume you have him
locked up somewhere--and more securely than I am."

"He is in a secure location, and he has reacted similarly to
yourself--in other words, uncooperative, but non-violent.  He has been
far quieter than you, and has primarily been pretending to sleep."

Natalie relaxed a little at the knowledge LaCroix hadn't tried anything.
Quiet was good.  After seeing how relatively easily they had been
captured, she didn't want him to do something that would get them both
shipped off to some dark hole.  Granted, that was more or less where
they were now, but right now they were being well-treated, and they
still had a chance of seeing Nick, perhaps even freeing him.

Her attention switched to Dr. Jackson, the archaeologist.  "You've spent
time with Nick, talked to him or worked with him, correct?"

"Yes," Daniel said with a nod.

"May I ask you about him?" she asked, then turned toward Hammond.  "I
still want to talk to your Dr. Fraiser, if I am allowed."

"You may speak to them both, although you may not get answers to all of
your questions.  They are not permitted to tell you any specifics, so
keep that in mind when you talk with them."

"I will.  And thank you," Natalie said when Hammond turned to leave.
After a nod, he was gone and she was left alone with Dr. Jackson.  "When
you introduced yourself, you said you were an archaeologist."

"Yes...and before you ask, I suppose you could say we've been working
together."

"For how long?"

"Here, in person?  Only the last couple of months."  After a pause,
Daniel noted, "You're not surprised."

Natalie gave him a slight grin.  "I know a lot about Nick."

"Including that he had lived in Chicago in the past.  I'm assuming
that's why you chose to go there."

"How did he seem?  I mean...how is--or was--he doing?"

Daniel shifted.  "I'm not sure I can really answer that..."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't.  The best I can do is...he's been quiet and mostly complacent.
Extremely reserved, although he had been settling in more recently.  Dr.
Fraiser will probably tell you the same thing."

Natalie understood the first--Nick wasn't much of a sharer at the best
of times--but he most definitely was not one to be complacent, so she
asked, "What do you mean by complacent?"

"I suppose you could say almost too cooperative, too accepting of
anything he is asked to do.  For example, he's made no effort to leave,
never even tried to go anywhere outside of his restricted area.  And the
couple of times I've seen him sedated, he allowed it without even a
comment, much less a fight."

"And he told you we were here, or might come here?" Natalie asked.

"He said LaCroix would.  But, as I said, he believes you're dead."

"Did he actually tell you that, or are you merely assuming--"

"He told me.  At one point we gave him a chance to use a computer to try
to find you, but he didn't have any luck.  We think he gave up, and in
fact, that seemed to merely convince him that you were gone.  Later,
when I offered him another chance, he turned it down...and better
explained why he believed you were dead."

"But he did try to search for me?"

"Yes.  A university faculty database, using variations on your first
name, your last name, and surnames he had used in the past.
Unfortunately, his choice of names didn't include the exact combination
you were actually using."

"Did he say anything else, beyond that he thought I was dead?"

"He said he had killed you, actually."

Natalie tensed, but finally she had confirmation of what she had long
assumed...and feared.

"Did he?"

"Nearly.  What else did he tell you about what happened?  Anything?"

"Only that he had had a plan," Daniel said, and Natalie pursed her lips.
"He wouldn't elaborate, but you know what the plan was, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

Natalie averted her eyes.  She didn't want to answer, but Dr. Jackson
and the others might have already guessed.  They had described him as
complacent...and guessed she at least knew why.  "And I was unconscious
at the time...presumed dead, as I assume he told you..."  She paused,
then finally answered, "He asked LaCroix to kill him."  She watched the
mortal for his reaction, but as she had somewhat expected, he didn't
react in the slightest.  "You're not surprised."

"I didn't know he had--"

"But he's obviously done or said something to where that makes sense."

Daniel tensed.  Nick had done both, either while there on the base or in
the archived security footage and files from his time at Area 51.

Her face fell at his hesitant expression.  "He has."

"I'm sorry, but I can't confirm or deny--"

"Can't or won't?"

"At the moment, can't.  I'm not allowed to talk about anything that may
or may not have happened."

Natalie didn't like that answer.  She now had a feeling that something
horrible had happened.

"And I think Dr. Fraiser will be able to answer any questions about his
current and previous conditions."

"But you said you had been working with him."

"I was."

"On...?"

"I'm sorry, I can't--"

"Can't talk about it.  Got it.  But I also know this base is involved in
things the world at large has no knowledge of.  And you said you are an
archaeologist and a linguist, correct?"

Daniel nodded.

"You mentioned knowing about his past in Chicago--what do you know about
that?  And don't tell me you can't answer."

"I know he's lived there more than once."

"And most recently?"

"He was a police detective there before he moved to Toronto."

"And before that?"

"Also with the Chicago Police Department."

"And--"

"And before that he took and taught several courses at the University of
Chicago.  He also worked as a night curator at--"

"What did he teach?"

Daniel hesitated, but grinned briefly as he answered, "Archaeology.
Actually, it's a bit of a coincidence, but I went there myself, was
there before I came here.  I think I even heard a few stories, comments
that were probably about him."

"And Nick's here because of your common interests."

"I can't--"

"It wasn't a question.  I don't need confirmation," Natalie said,
looking away for a moment.  While she wanted to learn more about what
Nick had been working on, her concern about him won out and she asked,
"When you last saw him, was he okay?  Just a yes or a no, whichever is
more correct."

"Then yes."  Daniel could see her visibly relax this time, her muscles
and her expression softening.  "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well, you're being held against your will by strangers who know who and
what you are, for one."

"And?"

"And we know what you are, what you need," he said, but all it did was
make her pull back from him.  "Look, I'm going to talk to Dr. Fraiser
before she comes to talk to you.  I know you'll need blood at some
point, if you don't already."

"I'm fine."

"You were injured, burnt getting into this facility..."

"I'm fine," Natalie repeated, but in truth she wouldn't be if they kept
them there more than two or three days...and it had already been a
little more than a day.  LaCroix would last longer, assuming he didn't
snap first.  "When can I talk to Dr. Fraiser?"

"Probably later today.  If you need anything before then, again, tell
one of the guards in the hall that you need to talk to someone--me, Dr.
Fraiser, General Hammond, whoever--"

"If I asked, would I be allowed to talk to LaCroix?"

"Ah, probably not."

"Are you going to try talking to him again?"

"I can't say one way or another."  Daniel could see her expression
harden and he apologised, "I'm sorry, but it's not my decision."

"Just...don't.  Don't talk to him unless you have something more to tell
him than you had for me.  Better yet, don't say anything at all until
you know if and when Nick is coming back--or just wait until he gets
back."

"You're afraid of him, of LaCroix," he said, barely thinking before
saying it.

"So are you.  And you should be."

Daniel didn't know how to reply to that comment, so he said nothing.

Natalie took the silence to be an affirmative.  "Good.  I get the
impression you are holding him more securely than you are me, plus,
again, you're talking to me instead of him."  She stepped forward, then
added, "Alone."

Daniel didn't want to, but he raised and activated his Zat, aiming it
directly at her.  She stopped her approach, but didn't seem afraid.  She
was exactly like Nick was the first time they had met.  And, like then,
he knew this was just a test.  She wanted to make sure he hadn't let his
guard down.

"I want to talk to Dr. Fraiser, and I want to know where Nick is."

"I already explained that she'll come to talk to you, probably later
today, and the latter issue is...complicated."

"You don't even know where he is, do you?"  Then another realisation hit
her, and she said, "Nick didn't want to be found, at least not by
LaCroix, and the assumption was that LaCroix was alone."

"I--"

"Can't answer that, I know.  Besides, I can't say that I blame him."

"I think you should ask Dr. Fraiser that later."

"And you think she'll actually be able to tell me any more than you
have?"

"Very possibly.  And now that you've talked to us--"

"But, like you, she won't tell me anything...sensitive."

"I really don't know what she'll tell you...or when."

Natalie wanted to argue, but forced herself to turn away and take a
couple of steps back.  She was grumpy and argumentative because she was
hungry.  She wouldn't make it to the next day without snapping at
someone, possibly literally.  She had barely gone more than a day
without blood before.  She simply couldn't do it, especially when she
was around others, especially mortals who had their guard down since
they didn't know what she was.  How Nick could manage for days or even
weeks at times she couldn't begin to comprehend.

Daniel lowered his weapon when her attention strayed, and he relaxed.
"I should go now.  If you have any further questions--"

"Tell your Dr. Fraiser that yes, I'll need some blood," she said,
closing her eyes but remaining turned away from Dr. Jackson.  "It can
wait until later, though.  I'll even talk to her about it myself when I
see her."

"If you need anything else..."

Natalie now slowly turned.  "Tell my guards I need to speak to someone.
I know."

Nodding, Daniel stepped back next to the door and called outside, then
told her, "You will get to talk to Dr. Fraiser today, I'll make sure of
it," right before the door opened.  "Please, just stay here and continue
to cooperate with us."

Natalie remained quiet until the mortal left and the door shut after
him.  "Not as if I can do anything else," she muttered.  She could, of
course, force her way out.  But then she probably wouldn't learn
anything more than she already had.  And she wanted and needed to know
everything she could.

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

"Dr. Jackson, you've spent the most time with Parker's friend, Natalie
Lambert.  How do you think she'll react if we tell her we don't know
where he is or when he'll return here?" Hammond asked as he, Dr.
Fraiser, and SG-1 sat in the briefing room.

"I don't think she'll be surprised, but she'll definitely want an
explanation--I know I would.  I do know that she'll ask, again, if we
either have or plan to tell LaCroix.  And before you ask, from what she
told me, I think it would be a bad idea to tell him anything that is in
any way uncertain or would require further explanation."

"And if we tell her exactly why he can't be reached?"

"Hang on a second, Sir.  You can't be seriously considering--"  O'Neill
threw up his hands and shook his head.  "No.  Absolutely--"

"Why not, Jack?" Daniel started, cutting the other man off, "She herself
isn't human.  And as a vampire, she can hear conversations around her,
classified or not.  She's probably already overheard more than enough to
piece things together about what happens on this base, not to mention
that she's seen a Zat used--a clearly alien weapon."

"And me," Teal'c added.

"And Teal'c," Daniel echoed.  "She's bound to have realised somehow that
he isn't quite normal, isn't quite human."

Jack shook his head.  "I doubt she thinks Teal'c is anything more than a
strange-looking *man*."

"Colonel, I know Parker could hear and differentiate footsteps and
probably even heartbeats from a distance.  So I agree with Daniel that
it's possible both she and LaCroix know Teal'c isn't like the rest of
us."

"Nick figured it out the first time I mentioned the Jaffa--he asked if
Teal'c was one," Daniel interrupted.  "And, again, she has probably
overheard enough by now to pique her curiosity at the very least.  I
think it's something to consider, since--from what little I've
gathered--she and Nick are a lot alike.  They both have highly
inquisitive minds and the appropriate backgrounds to put such clues
together...and do it quickly and accurately."

Hammond considered what they--especially Dr. Jackson--had said, then
stated his own opinion, "If she tells us what she's figured out from
anything she's overheard, then you, Dr. Fraiser, may make the decision
whether or not to tell her more."

"All right, but do you want me to tell her about the stargate?" she
asked, a little uncertain about how much to tell their prisoner.

"If she already knows at least some of what we do here, and if you
believe she can handle the explanation and won't cause a lot of trouble
once she hears it, then yes, you can tell her about the Stargate
Program."

"And what about where we sent her friend?" Fraiser asked.

"Everything.  Or I should say everything pertinent to your explanation,
which will be quite a lot--if you think she can handle it," Hammond
added, then looked around the silent table.  O'Neill seemed unusually
quiet.  "Colonel?"

"So Fraiser is going to tell this Dr...whoever she is...that we have no
idea where Parker is and, worse, that the Tok'ra apparently can't so
much as get a message to him at the moment, let alone retrieve him.
Does that about sum it up?"

"Ideally...ideally we wouldn't, but yes, Colonel, that is what I'm
permitting her to do," Hammond stated.  "I think things will go far more
smoothly if she is fully informed."  Pausing, he leaned back a little
and took in a deep breath.  "Has Lucien LaCroix done or said anything?"

"Absolutely nothing," Fraiser answered.  "Other than that first time we
tried to talk to him, he has barely moved.  He is either sleeping,
pretending to sleep, meditating, or some combination of the three.  He
has been completely unresponsive to any further questions."

"He's conserving his strength, General," Jack stated.  "Waiting and
listening.  Biding his time."

"I'm sure he is, Colonel.  If any of us were in his position, that's
what we'd be doing."

"And if he's like us, he's only going to wait and listen so long before
he acts," Jack added.  "Are we going to explain everything to him, too?"

"No," Hammond sternly replied.  "No, I have no plans to tell him
anything, or not anytime soon.  We need to contact Parker first."

"And it sounds like that could take days, possibly longer," Sam said.
"Even my father has no idea where they sent him.  He's trying to find
out for us, convince the others that we could help if we knew more,
but--"

"The Tok'ra would not tell us anything about where or to whom he was
sent," Teal'c said.

"He only said this was a 'sensitive situation'," Sam finished.

"Which would explain their lack of talkativeness," Jack said.  "They
never say anything when they have their own--"

"The Tok'ra have assured us that either they will find a way to contact
him, or they'll tell us where he is so we can retrieve him ourselves."

"Wait..." Daniel said, even while his mind tried to piece together what
Hammond had said.  "They won't tell us where he is right now, but they
will if they can't contact him, even though he is probably with a Tok'ra
operative that is passing him or herself off as a Goa'uld...and if we
show up, the Tok'ra's cover--"

"They are aware of the risks, Dr. Jackson.  They have been unable to
contact their operative; they have tried."

"So either they can't send or receive a message--" Sam started.

"Or their Tok'ra agent has already been discovered, which would explain
their willingness to give us the location," Jack stated.  "If the
Goa'uld find out what Parker is--"

"It would be a very bad thing.  Yes, Jack, we know," Daniel said.

"Teal'c...tell them just how bad that could be," Jack said, turning to
Teal'c, who hesitated.

"They will undoubtedly kill Nicholas Parker if they discover what he is.
And from his existence, they will surmise that others like him must
still survive on Earth.  It is entirely possible that they could attack
this planet to eradicate his kind."

"And when they learn that Parker was sent back to the SGC--"

"Colonel, you are fully aware the Tok'ra do not use Goa'uld
communication channels.  And it is entirely possible that nothing at all
has even happened."

"But if something did..."

"If it did..." Fraiser started, then sighed.  "Colonel, you've already
seen how vampires react to Goa'uld weaponry.  And according to Teal'c,
we know they cannot be taken as a host.  Medically speaking, the
vampire's system will treat a Goa'uld symbiote like any other disease,
virus, or parasite.  It will kill and eliminate it.  Even if they
captured him and tried to get him to talk by implanting a symbiote, it
wouldn't work.  And if they interrogate him, I don't think either Nick
or any Tok'ra who knows what he is will talk."  She paused, then asked,
"And while this is merely speculation of what could happen, or, yes,
possibly has already happened--worst case scenarios at that--is this
also something I'm permitted to discuss with Natalie Lambert?"

Hammond almost instantly nodded.  "Yes.  Anything she asks regarding
this subject is answerable."

"Anything?" Fraiser questioned.

"Anything related to events of the past several days.  Beyond that,
you'll have to use your best judgement regarding what, if anything, to
say to her."

The group went silent, and Daniel checked his watch--nearly eight pm.
"I promised Natalie that she would get to talk with Fraiser today."

"And she will momentarily...and it will only be Dr. Fraiser this time.
While she and Dr. Jackson seem to get along reasonably well, earlier
when Major Carter stopped by, she didn't say a word."

"I think she expected to see Dr. Fraiser...or at least be updated on
something--anything.  And don't forget that I'm the one who nearly shot
her."

"She's probably unaware you're both a scientist and a soldier," the
doctor commented to Major Carter.  "And it's natural that she'd feel
more comfortable with Daniel and me.  I'm a medical doctor, and so is
she.  And we all know both Nick and Daniel have at least some common
interests, so she considers that Daniel might have been a friend of
Nick, and therefore at least a possible, if indirect, friend to her."
She paused, then asked, "So am I speaking with her in the infirmary
or--"

"You will go to her holding cell.  Parker could apparently sense
LaCroix' presence from the surface, and we have no idea what LaCroix
might be able to pick up from her if they're in close proximity.  I
don't want them moved any closer together than they currently are."

"May I go speak to her now?  It's getting late and Daniel did tell
her--"

"Yes, and I think we should see how she reacts," Hammond agreed.
"Teal'c, accompany her, but stay out of sight in the hall.  The rest of
you are dismissed."

Jack swivelled his chair as Fraiser and Teal'c stood, but he didn't get
up.  "I think I'll stay, watch..."

Hammond glanced toward Major Carter and Dr. Jackson.  They made no move
to leave, either.  They'd all stay to observe Lambert's reaction.



A Trial Run - (18/32)

After Dr. Jackson left, Natalie tried to wait quietly, then she began to
pace, wondering if she would really get to talk to Dr. Fraiser that day
or not.  She didn't have a clock or watch to check, but if she closed
her eyes, she could sense that the sun was still up.

At what she guessed was mid-afternoon, she had a visitor, but instead of
Fraiser, another woman came by.  She introduced herself as Dr. Samantha
Carter, but Natalie remembered her from when she and LaCroix had been
captured.  After she had pulled away at what she sensed was deception,
the mortal had mentioned she was also a Major.

Natalie had remained silent, not that she had much to say.  Major Carter
had come almost entirely to give her some alternative clothes to change
into--or that was how Natalie saw it.  The woman didn't tell her much,
not even a mention of her anticipated meeting with Dr. Fraiser.  The
mortal had tried to be friendly, had tried to talk to her, but who she
really wanted to talk to was Fraiser, to find out more about where Nick
was and how long before she'd be able to see him.

Her incessant hunger hadn't helped.  It had taken all her concentration
to keep from changing, keep her distance from, and yet also listen to
her mortal visitor.

After Carter left, Natalie immediately resumed her pacing.  Her eyes
kept glancing at the clothes she had brought, clothes like the military
outfits both Dr. Jackson and Major Carter had worn.  The mortal had even
brought shoes--boots, actually.

At that thought, Natalie looked down at her bare feet.  The shoes she
had worn there had been taken and, in truth, the remnants of the uniform
made her feel uncomfortable.  While just a shirt and skirt, it still
felt much too formal, since she could be a prisoner for days or possibly
even the rest of her life.  The clothes brought for her would also be
less conspicuous if she forced her way out of her holding cell.

Natalie changed carefully, facing away from the camera in one corner.
Now wearing a plain black t-shirt, blue pants, and basic military boots,
she half-expected Dr. Fraiser might finally drop by, but that didn't
seem to be happening anytime soon.

As an afterthought, she unpinned her hair and set the half-dozen bobby
pins on a table where she had placed her previous clothes.  She could
break a lock faster with her bare hands now than using a key--and they
probably knew it.  The bobby pins were more just a nuisance, tugging
uncomfortably at her scalp.

She paced until the sun had likely set.  Now she felt both freer and
more on edge.  Three human hearts idled mere feet away--her guards in
the hall.  Every time when she walked nearer to the door, their blood
and her own potential freedom tempted her, but every time she forced
herself to turn away.

Eventually, soon after heading away from the door for what had to be the
hundredth or more time, Natalie heard a change in her surroundings.  Two
people had approached, but rather than walk on by, they stopped outside
the room.  A woman and a man, the latter of which felt strangely
familiar.  Natalie turned at the last moment before being told by one of
her guards to keep back.  She did as instructed, backing away from the
door.  She saw a flash of a man's face through the small, wired window,
then the door was unlocked and pushed open.

Natalie pressed herself back into the wall when the woman
entered--alone.  They almost instantly locked gazes.  The other woman
stood slightly shorter than herself.  Like General Hammond, she wore a
formal uniform...along with a lab coat.  One hand held a black bag that
smelt faintly of blood.  This could only be Dr. Fraiser.

"Close the door.  If I need assistance, I suspect you'll know," Fraiser
said, and in a moment the guard pulled the door shut.  Natalie Lambert
now looked even more like the pictures she had seen, only her expression
had changed.  And her hair was a bit longer.

It took a moment before Natalie realised the other woman didn't have a
weapon of any sort.  She didn't know whether she should feel relieved or
warn her visitor not to be so complacent.

"Hello, Dr. Lambert.  I'm Dr. Janet Fraiser.  I believe you've been
waiting for me."

"What time is it?"

"Ah, it's twenty-thirty...eight-thirty at night," Fraiser said, caught a
little off-guard.  "I'm sorry it's so late.  I know Daniel--"

"You met him?  You met Nick, right?"

"Yes, I met him."

"Did you talk to him much?"

"Some..."

"Just since he's been here, or before that as well?" Natalie asked and
the mortal hesitated.  "Let me guess, you can't tell me anything...not
about that and not where Nick is right now."

"Actually, I might be able to tell you both, but first I need you to
tell me your guesses about where you are and what we do here.  And I'd
also like to know what name you want us to use...Natalie Lambert or--"

"Natalie, just Natalie."

"And?"

"And...what?"

"What do you know or guess about where you are and what we do here?"

"Cheyenne Mountain Complex," she started, but the other woman seemed to
expect more than that--much more.  She wanted to know how much she knew,
really knew.  Natalie thought about what both LaCroix had found out and
what she herself had heard, then answered, "Stargate Command.  That's
what you call it--down here, anyway."

"Do you know why--"

"Because of an alien device with that name.  Nick isn't even on Earth
now, is he?  You sent him through this stargate, to some other planet."

A little uncomfortable at the abruptness and accuracy of the statement,
Fraiser took in a deep breath and replied, "No, he isn't on Earth, and
yes, he went through the gate."

Natalie nearly sagged in relief at finally getting a straight answer
from someone.  "Now can you tell me where he's been and what happened to
him?  Dr. Jackson was hesitant to say anything about Nick's well-being."

"Probably because that's complicated, especially since we ourselves
don't know the full story.  It would help if you could tell me what you
know or think happened, especially--"

"I told you I know what this place is--"

"Yes, but what you know or guessed about what has happened to him and
what we have are probably quite different.  I think we both have pieces
of the puzzle, but neither of us has all of those pieces.  It might be
helpful to know the whole story if I am to give a full assessment of
your friend."

Natalie pursed her lips.  She had no desire to tell this woman--or
anyone, for that matter--any details of what had led up to Nick fleeing
Toronto and allowing himself to be captured.  Assuming that was what had
happened.  "You first.  I want to know what's happened since he walked
into Hill Air Force Base in Utah."

"I don't know all the details..."

"Then I want to know all you *do* know, starting with what he did to get
himself shot."

"All right.  I can do that."  Fraiser took a deep breath and began,
"According to the records, he was shot because the officers there were
scared of him.  He had...changed...and he had severe burns.  The bullets
didn't stop him for long--which scared them even more--then he woke
and--"

"They used a taser on him."

"Yes, I'm sorry."

"Why?  You weren't there, were you?"

"No, I wasn't; this is all from a file.  He was then transferred to
Nevada--Area 51--where he was held and questioned.  And, yes, as far as
I can tell, studied.  For months, he said nothing in response to
questions--any questions, no matter how personal or impersonal they
were.  Eventually, he managed to take one of his guards' weapons...and
shot himself in the temple."

Natalie closed her eyes.  It didn't overly surprise her, but that simple
sentence told her how desperate he had been.  For what, precisely, she
would probably never know.

"He recovered...physically, anyway.  The doctors at Nellis removed that
bullet...and another that I believe you know about."

"How much of his memory did he lose?"

"We're not sure...possibly none, but he's probably the only one who
knows.  Things began to change after that incident, however."

"What kinds of things?"

"By then they had managed to identify him.  They linked him first to a
Vietnam-era Red Cross medic by the name of Nicholas Parker, then to his
disappearance in Toronto as Detective Nicholas Knight.  When they spoke
with him, he didn't verbally confirm anything at first, but eventually
his...handlers...could read his other reactions enough to know he was
who they thought he was and they realised that his memory had at least
partly returned.  Since he was still no more willing to talk, they left
him alone more, kept him more isolated.  After we brought back some
Zats--the hand-held alien weapon you've seen, his security--which had
been increased--began to use them, partly as a way to disable him
without getting too close.  Nick killed four of his guards, although he
didn't know that until after he came here.  While they did not blame him
for the deaths, that decreased his contact with others even more."

"And how did he end up *here* of all places?"

"Like I said, they linked him to other...lives, other personas.  One of
those showed an interest in and extensive knowledge of archaeology, so
rather than question him, they gave him some tests--some of which they
had tried to give him in the past--to see if he'd even bother with them
and judge his abilities if he did.  At first, he again ignored them, but
that eventually led to him working by e-mail with Dr. Jackson, starting
a little over three years ago."

"So they told him all about--"

"No, in fact, they told him virtually nothing about what he was working
on."

Natalie saw her chance, and she asked, "And what precisely was he
working on, or at least helping with?  How could an archaeologist be
useful for anything having to do with, I assume, aliens?"

"The primary alien race that we've run into took humans from Earth
thousands of years ago.  They emulated, perhaps even were some of the
gods worshipped here in ancient times.  Many are Egyptian, and their
language is somewhat similar to ancient Egyptian.  Another race
we've...I suppose you could say encountered--they were the ones who
built the stargates--has a language that is similar to, and perhaps was
even a basis for, classical Latin.  Nick--"

"Is familiar with both," Natalie realised with a hint of a grin.

"Yes.  His familiarity with the latter is probably a large part of why
he was allowed to be moved here."

Natalie didn't much like the sound of that.  'Allowed' to be moved
there.  "Did Dr. Jackson know that--"

"Daniel had no idea Nick was, for all intents, a prisoner, much less
that he was a vampire.  He only knew he was working with someone named
Dr. Nicholas Parker, and that he was a researcher at Area 51.  That's
all.  Their email was closely monitored and censored to keep it that
way."

"And they talked--by email--for a couple, few years before--"

"Daniel was impressed with his work and thought he would be a good asset
here at the base, so he wanted to meet him in person, but had trouble
getting any acknowledgement of his requests.  He eventually went to
General Hammond, who made inquiries and discovered the truth.  After
that, he, Dr. Jackson, and I went to meet him."

"And so they simply let him come here?"

"Believe me, it was anything but simple.  While they kept him there at
Nellis, they gave him strong sedatives daily, and that was one condition
of his coming here."

"Sedatives?"

"To weaken him...and keep him that way.  But when he showed increasing
side effects--primarily dizziness and weakness immediately after the
injections, which he tried to hide--I reduced the dosage and increased
the amount of blood.  Quite recently, I stopped giving him any
medication at all.  Only blood, and that did not go over as well or
smoothly as I had hoped.  I ended up giving him more blood--a lot of
it--by IV over the course of almost a day, bringing him back to full
strength, as far as I can tell.  Within days of that, LaCroix
arrived--and you as well, I'd assume."

"Did Nick sense us and tell you or did you just spot one of us snooping
near the entrance?"

"He sensed LaCroix, then told us.  After that, we spotted him--and only
him--on the surveillance recordings.  At that time, Nick asked to be
returned to Nellis."

"But he wasn't."

"No, he wasn't.  I didn't think it was a good idea, and we came up with
a better alternative."

"So you sent him somewhere else, another planet...somewhere
inaccessible."

"Yes."

"But then why can't you--"

"He was put in the care of an ally, who immediately sent him on an
undercover assignment to hide him away.  Unfortunately, they haven't
been able to make contact with him or their operative since.  He
obviously didn't want to go with LaCroix, so we were to recall him only
if LaCroix hurt or killed someone, or if we believed he would.  We
didn't know he'd be this hard to reach--but we also didn't expect to
need to recall him so quickly."

"And what has he done since he's been here--LaCroix?  Has he hurt
anyone?  I mean, beyond--"

"Beyond pinning Dr. Jackson to the wall?"

"Yeah, that."

"Since he woke, he has done little more than sleep or feign sleep."

"Have you told him about Nick--"

"The only thing we've done is ask the same initial questions we asked
you."

"Which you already knew the answers to."

"Yes.  The only real surprise was--"

"Me."

"Yes, which brings us back to what happened that caused all of this in
the first place.  I'd really like to know.  It might complete the
picture."

Natalie tensed, but the other woman's comment that it might explain
things was right.  But she still didn't want to tell this stranger and
who knew who else something that until now had only been known by Nick
and/or LaCroix.

"Please, Natalie.  While he hasn't said much about you, it's clear that
he trusted you and that you were very important to him.  You still are,
even though--"

"He thinks I'm dead.  And you want to know why."

"Yes."

Natalie took in a deep breath.  "I suppose you've probably guessed some
of it already.  I mean, Nick is and was at that time, of course, a
vampire, and I am now..."

"He tried to make you like him, right?"

"I kind of forced him into it, probably not at the best time."  Pausing,
she pursed her lips for a second.  "You said you knew what he did for a
living in Toronto."

"Yes."  Fraiser waited a few seconds, then realising the other woman
wanted her to specifically say what his job was, she stated, "He was a
detective--a homicide detective.  A good one, too, from what I've
heard."

"And you probably already know this, but his partner was shot, killed
the same night we vanished.  And while I'm telling you this, I suppose I
should mention that my own night hadn't been any better.  An old friend
from medical school had killed herself and--lucky me--I got the call.
Ended up with a suicide note addressed to me, and it hit a little too
close to home and made me start thinking about--"

Fraiser watched the other woman stop and close her eyes, clearly trying
to regain control of something.

"I knew Nick would have to leave Toronto soon," Natalie eventually
continued.  "He'd already been there six years, and he wasn't ageing.
This was also the second partner he'd lost in less than a year, and it
hit him hard.  Worse, Tracy, his partner, had actually known about
vampires...but not about Nick, not until the moment she was shot.  She
saw him change and made the connection just before she lost
consciousness.  Her last words, 'You could have trusted me,' hit him
hard, really hard.  Nick, of course, blamed himself for what happened,
even though if he hadn't been there...  If he hadn't been there, I think
she still would have been killed.  If you've researched us, you probably
know all about that--or most of what I told you, anyway."

"We are aware that was a hard year for him--and you, too, for that
matter."

Natalie nodded absently, aware that Fraiser and the others didn't and
couldn't know everything that had happened to Nick that year.  As it was
really only that night that mattered, she forced herself to continue,
"As you can imagine, both of us were reeling from what happened.  We had
no business making any big decisions...but I didn't want to lose him,
which I knew I would, possibly even that night.  Something had to
change.  I knew that even before Tracy was shot, even before--  I had
actually gone by Nick's place to tell him his partner didn't make it,
and with everything...  I pushed him when I probably shouldn't have,
even though it's what we both wanted.  If not for that..."

"So you asked--"

"I told him I trusted him and that I wanted to be with him, no matter
the consequences, and that, yes, I wanted him to make me like him.  Not
quite in those words, but...  He was hesitant, but he finally did it--or
tried to."

"Tried?  So he didn't--"

"I only know most of what happened next second-hand.  While I
was...dying...but not quite dead, LaCroix came by and found us.  He
assumed I was dead--not that he really cared--and Nick was...worse off
than he had been.  He asked LaCroix to kill him--his way of joining me
in the afterlife, I guess, since he hadn't actually intended to kill me.
Anyhow, it must have been one hell of a plea, because LaCroix agreed.
Before he did it, though, he sensed something...from me.  He sensed I
wasn't quite dead, so instead of killing Nick, he just knocked him out.
He then used Nick's blood in an attempt to bring me across.  He wasn't
sure it would work, though, so he took me upstairs to the bedroom."

Natalie paused, closing her eyes, then took a breath before continuing,
"While I was still unconscious, Nick woke up.  Since we were nowhere in
sight, he must have assumed I was dead and LaCroix was disposing
of...ah, my body.  Believing he had killed me and that LaCroix was
unwilling to kill him, he just...left.  LaCroix realised what had
happened and he followed as soon as he could, taking me with him,
fearing the worst.  Which, before you ask, is that he would kill himself
by sunlight, despite that he'd never managed it before."  She shut her
eyes for a second.  "I woke sometime after sunrise as a new vampire.
From then until Nick was...detained, he flew vaguely westward.  We
followed, knowing that if he kept going, eventually he'd--  At first, he
had a fairly large head-start.  LaCroix had to wait for me to wake
before we could really go after him.  But eventually Nick began to slow,
and we began to catch up with him.  We were right behind him, close
enough to hear the gunshot, see more military personnel arrive, even see
him taken away, but..."

Fraiser silently thought for a moment once Natalie stopped speaking.
She had known vampires could fly, but not that they could manage such
long distances.  Toronto, Canada to Utah was a long trip.  And now she
had two examples where these two had tracked or otherwise been able to
pinpoint Nick's location from a distance, which generated further
questions.  "Did you manage to follow him or sense him after he was
taken?"

"Not really; he was too weak for us to sense him.  We suspected he had
been sedated, and we had a pretty good guess as to where he'd been
taken--the only semi-logical place."

"Nellis."

"Which was apparently right."

"But you didn't know for sure until now?"

Natalie shook her head.  "No, we weren't sure.  We just assumed."

"And you didn't try to get to him there?"

"Too many guards and too many cameras.  And we had no idea what they
knew about us, or how easily we might be captured.  Apparently very
easily.  I have a feeling Nick isn't the first vampire that's
been...detained there."

"No, he isn't.  Nick is--or was--the third vampire to be held at that
facility."

Natalie tensed.  "Third?  You mean there are two other--"

Fraiser shook her head.  "No.  The other two had died by then.  One was
killed trying to escape, and the other killed himself.  The file didn't
specify how."

Natalie couldn't help but look away.  She didn't like talking about
this, but she wanted to know Nick's state of mind, so she couldn't
simply ignore it.  "Other than when he...shot himself," she started
uncomfortably, "has Nick tried to kill himself?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but at Nellis, he was in a completely enclosed
room with only metal or plastic furniture.  He had no direct contact for
months on end."

"But if he was working on translations--"

"He only had pens or mechanical pencils--no wood.  They were very
careful about that."

"And here?"

"He hasn't done anything to...  He hasn't directly attempted to harm
himself."

Natalie's eyes narrowed at the unusual phrasing of the response.  "What
has he done?"

"As I said, he hasn't--"

"He hasn't done anything...big...but what about...little things?  He has
done or said something, hasn't he?"

Now it was Fraiser's turn to really hesitate.  Done or said something.
Precisely the right question; Natalie clearly knew him quite well.
"Like I said earlier, he showed side effects from the sedative regimen
he was initially on when he arrived here.  I didn't know the specifics
of the drug's contents and was a little hesitant giving it to him to
begin with.  I made it clear that I wanted him to tell me of any adverse
reactions."

"But he didn't."  Getting a nod, Natalie asked, "What happened?"

"He tried to hide it, but I could see that he became weaker with every
dose--dizzy, lightheaded.  I saw on the monitors that he'd started
passing out shortly after his nightly dose, which was a little
different, stronger than the others.  He never mentioned it, of course."

"Of course he didn't," Natalie sighed.

"So I reduced the amount of sedative, increased the amount of blood, and
eventually eliminated the drug altogether.  And still he wouldn't tell
me how he really felt, even though I could tell something was...off.
Finally, after one dose--entirely blood--it somehow triggered his
instincts and...and he took Dr. Jackson's blood."

To Natalie, that last sounded awful.  It sounded like he had simply
snapped, something she knew he had done long ago.  And if he had...
"Nick attacked--"

"No, Daniel offered his blood, he cut his arm.  He was only trying to
help, but..."

Relaxing, Natalie closed her eyes for a moment in relief.

"If anyone made a mistake, it was me.  I should have been more careful.
All I knew of his physiology was what I had been told.  After that
incident, I managed to get him to tell me a little more--very little,
but enough.  Even before then, however, I noticed he has a bad habit of
understatement on some things, and exaggeration on others."

"What did he tell you?"

"That he believes he deserves any pain he feels.  I don't think he's
proud of his past, of having killed, even if it was probably mostly for
survival.  He has, as far as I've been able to tell, a very low view of
himself.  He's highly intelligent and, from what I've seen, a good and
very caring person.  He cares more about others than himself, and he
doesn't want anyone to get hurt because of him."

Natalie swallowed.  Every word fit Nick.

"He's not suicidal, not that I've seen, but one of the conditions of him
remaining here is that he not harm either himself or anyone else...or
give any hint that he would.  Like I said--and you probably know--he's
smart enough to keep such thoughts to himself."  Fraiser paused,
watching Natalie.  She wasn't surprised.  "Does it sound like--"

"That's Nick," she confirmed.  "Or it doesn't sound too much unlike
him," she amended, even though it sounded exactly like him.  "How do you
think he's doing now--really?"

"I'm no psychiatrist, but I don't think being in isolation like he was
at Nellis was good for him.  And I don't think leaving with LaCroix is
the best option, either, just from what I've been told, either by Nick
himself or second-hand."

"But how was he doing at the time he left?"

"He'd been doing considerably better, become...less reclusive.  When he
first came here, he kept entirely to himself, sometimes wouldn't answer
even the most innocent questions.  Recently, he started working with
others besides Dr. Jackson, and had become far more relaxed and
comfortable."

"Until LaCroix and I arrived."

"Yes."

"But he doesn't know I'm here."

"No, he doesn't."

"And he still doesn't even know I'm alive."

Fraiser pursed her lips, shifting and bringing out the medical bag she
had brought in front of her.

Natalie's eyes dropped to the bag, and her hunger spiked as she focused
in on the blood scent she'd been trying to ignore.  Forcing her
attention off the bag, she looked up at the doctor.  "Will you tell him
I'm alive and that I'm here?  Or will you do that only if he wants to
come back here?"

"That won't be decided right away, but if I think he can handle it, I
would like to tell him."  Fraiser looked down, then opened her bag.  She
pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it.  She handed the printout of
a photograph out to the other woman.

Natalie eyed the piece of paper at first, then took it.  She tensed all
the way down to where her fingers held the paper at what she saw--a
photograph of Nick and herself, sitting on a picnic table, smiling.
Nick had smiled--truly smiled--so very little the last several months
they had been in Toronto that the photo almost made her smile.  Almost.
That same photograph had been used in the news whenever they mentioned
their disappearance, and now it made her recall her first few weeks as a
vampire and how worried she had been about Nick.

"You were obviously very close to him," Fraiser said, then once Natalie
looked up at her, she added, "He really trusted you, probably still
does.  But the man in that picture is not the same man I've met."

The doctor's addition didn't surprise Natalie one bit.  Nick hadn't
remotely trusted her instantly, either.  It probably was a good idea to
go slow about telling him she was still alive.  She took one last glance
at the photograph, then handed it back.

"May I ask when that picture was taken?"

"Ah, it was sort of a work function.  Baseball and a picnic.  Nick
missed the game, and he usually wouldn't go to those things at all, but
he did that time."

"He looked very happy, very relaxed."

"He was.  We both were."

Fraiser softly smiled, but only for a moment.  "Now, I have a couple
more questions I'm hoping you'll answer."

"That depends."

"I know.  The first has to do with what you are and may be a little
sensitive..."  She paused to give the other woman a chance to protest,
then when Natalie remained quiet, she asked, "If and when Nick returns
to the base, will he be able to sense that you're here?"

"In what way?" Natalie asked, wanting clarification.  Fraiser was right
that this was sensitive, but she obviously already knew something.

"Well...Nick sensed LaCroix' presence from over twenty levels down--and
knew it was him.  Will he be able to--for one, sense your presence,
and--for another, tell that it's you?"

"That's actually a good question.  Best guess is that if we're close
enough, he might be able to sense that there's another vampire nearby,
but I don't know if he'll know who it is.  For all I know, he might only
sense LaCroix.  Plus, he thinks I'm dead, and he's never been around me
since I've been a vampire--unless me tagging along with LaCroix counts,
which probably would only make me harder to differentiate from LaCroix."

"And you're not surprised by the first, by what I said?"

"No.  LaCroix *wanted* Nick to know he was there, wanted him to leave
the base and join him."

"And he can do that--send specific messages?"

"Apparently.  Or at least that's what he was trying to do.  I don't know
if it worked or not."

"How extensive is their...connection...for lack of a better
description?"

"I don't really know."

"Can he do...what he did with Nick...to you, with you?"

Natalie nodded.  "Yes, he can find me and get inside my head a bit, but
the latter is just...  He does that with most everyone and isn't
related.  He's just good at reading people and getting his way.  But we
could probably find each another, especially with Nick nearby.  He might
be able to pick out my emotions once Nick comes back, but I'm not sure.
He probably will, since my emotions might be pretty strong then.  But
then, so would Nick's."

"And if Nick chooses not to return--what will LaCroix do then?"

"If LaCroix thinks he won't see Nick, then he'll do something."

"What?"

"I don't know, but he'll find out where Nick is and get to him somehow,
or else he'll do something--anything it takes, and I do mean
*anything*--to force you to bring him back here."

"Will he?  Will he actually--"

"Absolutely.  LaCroix is extremely dangerous...dangerous and
unpredictable.  And he won't stop until he gets what he wants.  He never
does."

Fraiser just stood and stared forward for a moment.  Natalie's voice had
a strange urgency to it, and she believed the near plea.  Both Natalie
and Nick seemed terrified of the older vampire and what he might do.
For her own part, beyond the few seconds of resistance she had seen when
they had captured him, LaCroix had done little to frighten her.
However, she, too, recognised how dangerous that particular vampire
could potentially be.  His resistance at first to the Zats and the drugs
had likely been little more than a test...and his test of the force
field in isolation told her he had an amazingly high tolerance for pain.
They likely all did, simply because of what they were.

Setting her thoughts aside, Fraiser turned to her final questions,
asking, "You told Daniel you'd need blood.  How much do you need?  How
much does a vampire need daily?"

"Don't you already know that?"

"I'm asking how much is needed to keep a vampire healthy, not weak, and
although I've asked Nick, of course, I'd very much like a second
opinion.  Besides, the three of you aren't the same size.  Or the same
age, for that matter."

Natalie didn't relax at the mortal doctor's explanation.  Fraiser didn't
entirely trust Nick's answer, apparently...or she thought it might be
inaccurate.  Come to think if it, Nick might not actually know, not for
human blood anyway.  "Bare minimum would be, I guess, half a litre per
day, but most of us probably consume closer to a litre per day.  It's
not age or weight dependant, I don't think."

"And since you've had nothing for a couple of days now, will the 'bare
minimum' be enough?"

"It'll be fine," Natalie answered without thinking it over.

"Fine for you or--"

"You asked how much blood a vampire needs on a daily basis to stay
healthy.  That's what my answer was.  We can survive on less, as I
suspect you already know."

Fraiser pursed her lips for a moment in thought.  She had tried to
correct the inadequate quota Nick had been given, but even Nick's guess
was at the lower end of what he actually needed.  Natalie had also
steered their conversation away from what she had been trying to ask and
back to Nick.  Rather abruptly she shifted the topic back, asking, "How
well do you know LaCroix?"

At first, Natalie hesitated, but she vaguely answered, "Better than I'd
like."

Fraiser took that to mean she knew him fairly well, so she asked, "How
will he react if we provide him with blood?  Or do you think we should?"

"I think...I don't think he'll drink it, but I don't think it will set
him off or something, if that's what you're asking."

She held back a smile at Natalie's perceptiveness.  "As you can probably
guess, it is a concern."

"Be careful if you go near him."

Fraiser forced herself to remain calm at the warning.  She had been
told, directly or indirectly, that LaCroix was dangerous she didn't know
how many times now.  She would be careful, but knew if they provided the
other vampire with any blood, it would be she who did so.

Since her conversation with Natalie was pretty much finished, she
approached and set her bag on the bed and opened it.  She pulled out a
clear plastic bag containing blood, two-hundred and fifty millilitres,
or a little more than eight ounces.  Half of half a litre.  She also
pulled out a similarly clear plastic cup.  "This is half of the bare
minimum you mentioned.  Someone will return in the morning with the
other half."

"Who?  You?"

"Possibly, but it may be someone else."

"And will you or they update me on--"

"We will do what we can to keep you up to date, but--"

"But I might not be told everything or hear immediately," Natalie
guessed.

"Yes," Fraiser answered, nodding.  "I'm sorry, but--"

"No, I understand.  I'm an uninvited guest at best."  She glanced at the
blood and the cup, then said, "And thank you for finally telling me what
I wanted to know, and for bringing...ah, a meal."

"If you need anything else..."

"I'll have one of my guards contact someone."

"Yes, and--"  Fraiser paused, trying to read the other woman's mood.
All she had seen was a sort of nervous determination, mixed with
frustration.  Those emotions, while understandable, could be disastrous
if acted upon.  "I am sure you are aware that if you want even a chance
at seeing Nick, you have to cooperate fully, but if not...  Please
remain here, in this room, and continue to cooperate with us."

Natalie tensed a little at the half-threat and half-suggestion, but she
didn't reply.  She planned to cooperate as much and as long as she
could.

Fraiser closed her bag and turned back toward Natalie.  "Is there
anything else you need?"

"No, or nothing you could get me."

She headed back to the door, but before she told the guard to let her
out, she added, "And please try to get some sleep.  No one will hurt
you."

Natalie stayed back where she was until the doctor left.  Once the hall
became devoid of either her guard's shifting or even footsteps, she went
for the blood.  She picked up both the bag of blood and the cup and then
sat where they had been.  She felt secretly thankful for the cup, and
with some difficulty, she tore the bag open with her fangs and emptied
the blood into it without spilling anything.  Then she forced herself to
wait, carefully rolling the bag up before slowly drinking the decanted
blood.  It was fresh, terribly fresh, and she found it difficult not to
down it all at once.  Even before she had emptied the cup, she felt
infinitely better, calmer.

After she had drunk all the blood, however, she worried about LaCroix,
how he'd feel and act if he did--or didn't--take any blood they offered
him.



A Trial Run - (19/32)

"So he still hasn't done anything?" Hammond asked three mornings later.

"No, Sir," Fraiser answered.  "Other than that first session, all he has
done is sleep--or pretend to sleep.  Still is.  He hasn't so much as
acknowledged the blood I took him, let alone gone near it."

"But he hasn't--"

"He's just waiting, and he's very patient, almost stubborn about it,"
she continued.  "And we all know why, I think.  He has no intention of
doing anything that might make us move him or sedate him."

"And Ms. Lambert?" Hammond asked.

"She has relaxed somewhat, taken all of the blood we've given her, and
been overall cooperative...but she has also been very insistent about
being updated regularly."

"Which we may now be able to do," Hammond said, then nodded to Dr.
Jackson.

Daniel stood and, walking over to the projection screen, explained,
"Last night the Tok'ra contacted us, saying they still hadn't managed to
contact the operative Nick had been sent to."

"That's nothing new," Jack said.

"No, but while they are still unwilling to make a face-to-face visit
themselves..."  Daniel paused and brought up a star chart with one
location highlighted.

"They gave us the gate coordinates," Sam guessed.

"Exactly.  P2X-384.  The inhabitants there grow crops for export; the
Tok'ra agent on the planet has used their position to gather information
for decades."

"They only ask that we take care not to reveal that their leader is a
Tok'ra--assuming something hasn't already happened," Hammond stated.

"Something--" Jack started.

"They're worried their operative may have been compromised," Daniel
explained.

"So we would be retrieving more than just Parker," Sam surmised.

"Only if the Tok'ra is in imminent danger or has already been
discovered."  Hammond took in a deep breath.  "Your primary mission is
to bring Parker back and report on anything you see while there, no
matter how irrelevant it might seem."

"And when are we doing this?" Jack asked.

"Immediately.  You leave on the hour."

Glancing down at his watch, Jack said, "That's in twenty minutes.  Do we
even know what we're going to do with Parker once we bring him back?"

"He will be taken to his quarters, where Dr. Fraiser will clear him.
What happens after that will depend on how both he and our other guests
react to his return."

"Are we to tell him about Natalie?" Daniel asked.

"No.  Nor are you to give him the choice to return or not."  Hammond
paused again, then finally said, "Dismissed."

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

Arriving in near darkness on the planet on which Nick Parker had been
hidden away, SG-1 found themselves completely alone, except for their
MALP, exactly as it had shown over the video feed.

"Something's wrong with this picture."  Jack slowly turned on the spot,
surveying their surroundings, which didn't amount to much.  The
landscape consisted of dry, tall grass and short stubby bushes that
looked rather like sage brush, except for their striking silvery blue
colour that almost shone in the dimness.  In the distance, on either
side of a dirt path that led away from the stargate, he could make out
uniform green fields.  No life, not human, Jaffa, nor animal roamed
nearby.  "No greeting party," he said.  "I thought there was supposed to
be some trade...goods, people...something or another."

"The grains would be taken by ship, but you are correct--there should be
guards by the stargate," Teal'c confirmed.

Daniel scanned their surroundings, but other than a vague path leading
to and from--through, really--the gate, he didn't see much, including
where they were headed.  "And which way do we go again?"

"About two and a half kilometres..." Sam trailed off, looking one way
and then the other.  Eventually she resorted to using the locations of
the DHD and MALP to get her bearings and nodded in that direction down
the path, finishing, "That way."

Jack looked down the dirt road, then back toward the stargate.  "All
right.  Carter, send the MALP back.  And keep your eyes open, everyone."

They stayed by the gate for the couple of minutes it took to send the
robotic vehicle back to Earth and give a quick update to Hammond.  Then
they proceeded silently down the road.

After about five minutes, they could make out a large structure in the
distance and they came across their first sign of life--a dead Jaffa.
Less than a minute later, they passed three more.  They all recognised
that some of the Jaffa belonged to Ba'al, while others had probably
allied themselves with the apparent Goa'uld leader on that planet.

Once they reached the outside of the fortress, Jack asked, "Teal'c, what
do you think we can expect?"

"It appears the inhabitants of this planet have been attacked."

"Yes, but what about inside?  Are we going to meet any resistance?"

"It is difficult to tell, but I do not believe those who did this remain
here."

"We haven't yet seen anyone alive," Sam started.  "And the Jaffa we've
seen, they've been dead--"

"Almost a day," Jack finished.  "Even if they killed everyone--"

"Then it's highly likely there's still one person alive," Sam finished.

"If he's still alive, then why didn't he go to the Beta site?!" Jack
harshly whispered.

"Maybe he's not alone," Daniel suggested.  "Maybe he doesn't want to
give any hint that he's anything more than he seems--a human slave.  And
we really shouldn't speculate until--"

"Until we take a look around.  I know, Daniel," Jack said.

He looked away from the building, but still nothing moved.  This was too
easy.  He narrowed his eyes for a moment before directing everyone
inside.

Entering, they scouted the halls and every room along the way.  The
further they went into the facility, the more Jaffa--and even a few
humans--they discovered.  Most of the Jaffa had the unfamiliar tattoo.
Eventually, after clearing the area closest to the centre of the
complex, they entered that room--or tried to.  A veritable pile of Jaffa
corpses blocked the entrance.  Leading the way in, Jack froze and raised
his weapon when a Zat was raised upwards from the floor and aimed
directly at him.

Spotting the lone living person--Nick Parker, lying twisted on his back,
aiming but not firing--Daniel rushed forward past Jack into the
otherwise deserted room.

"Daniel!" Jack called in a harsh whisper, but he lowered his weapon.  At
some point in that split-second, the vampire had let go of the Zat, but
even Jack could see that something was wrong.  Parker had stopped
moving.

Approaching, SG-1 found within a couple of metres around Nick, another
dead Jaffa, and a dead woman--probably the Tok'ra.  She had been hit by
a staff blast just off-centre on her chest; the Jaffa had similar
wounds.  Nick, however...  Jack saw a lot of blood on the sandy coloured
clothes, but no wounds, although the vampire appeared to be unconscious.
"Carter, Doc Fraiser gave you an overview on...him, right?"

"Yes, Sir.  I'll check him out."

"Teal'c--" Jack started, but turning around, he didn't see his Jaffa
colleague.  "Where's Teal'c?"

"Checking the rest of the building," Daniel answered, walking up to
where Sam knelt by Nick.

Sam felt lost trying to determine Nick's condition.  It didn't help that
the first thing she tried to do was check his pulse and that the second
her skin touched his, he jerked awake and pointed the newly gripped Zat
at her.  "It's okay," she said, pulling back and raising her empty
hands.  "It's okay.  It's just me, Samantha Carter."

Nick stared at his target, her words not sinking in right away.  He had
a headache and he was hungry; moreover, he was frightened and didn't
want to lower the weapon.

"Nick?  It's okay.  We're here to take you back to Earth.  Nick?"  When
he didn't move, Sam took a chance and carefully pried the Zat from his
hand.  It was surprisingly easy to do, and almost immediately his arm
slackened.  In fact, his whole body sagged and his focus drifted.  It
was as if he had passed out, but his eyes were still open.  "Nick?" she
asked again, leaning over him to try to turn his head toward her.

"What's wrong with him?" Jack asked.

"I don't--" she started, but then the pieces started to fall into place.
As the only possible cause of his condition struck her, she lowered her
hands from the side of his face to his neck for confirmation of her
guess, and she felt it.  She felt a symbiote within him.  "Oh God..."

"What?" Daniel asked when she didn't elaborate.

"I think I know what's wrong.  It's the symbiote.  The Tok'ra symbiote
went into him."

"Then why is he like this?"

"Because of what he is," Daniel answered, moving closer.  Nick's clothes
had evidence of wounds, but he couldn't actually see any injuries, and
yet some of the blood on his clothes appeared exceedingly fresh.  As a
vampire, any wounds would heal amazingly fast, leaving only the bloody
clothes, so that made sense, but why was the blood so fresh?  He spotted
a dagger held in Nick's left hand, blood on both the blade and handle.

"Why would it matter what he is?" Jack asked.

"A Goa'uld cannot take one of his people as a host," Teal'c answered.
"His regenerative abilities would kill the symbiote."

"This symbiote is very much alive, Teal'c," Sam answered, turning her
attention back to Nick, who still seemed out of it.  "If it was that
simple, the symbiote would be dead and he'd probably be fine."

"I think she's right," Daniel guessed, then he nodded toward the nearby
Jaffa and woman.  "If these others are any indication, he must have been
injured, probably severely.  That might have delayed his body's ability
to regenerate.  And it looks like he's been stabbing himself,
deliberately inflicting additional injuries, probably in an attempt to
keep the symbiote alive."

Sam examined the cuts and blood on Nick's clothing more closely.  She
now saw the knife, which was gripped tightly in Nick's left hand.  "I
think you're right.  He's trying to keep the symbiote alive," she
thought aloud.  "We need to get him back to the SGC."

"Parker, yes, but we don't know anything about who he is," Jack said.

"If you're worried about the symbiote, I'm almost positive it's the
Tok'ra."

"Almost," he repeated, doubt clearly evident in his voice.

"Jack, he knows enough to tell the difference between a Goa'uld and a
Tok'ra.  If he's made the decision to try and keep the symbiote alive,
he must know or otherwise sense that it's the Tok'ra," Daniel said,
glancing back at Jack, who still looked doubtful.  "And I agree with
Sam.  We need to get him back to the SGC as soon as possible and let
Fraiser figure this out."

"We should all leave this place for other reasons," Teal'c commented,
his attention drifting to the doorway to the hallway.

"What is it, Teal'c?"

"This planet is too valuable to leave unguarded."

Jack considered for a moment, but only a moment.  "All right, let's get
him out of here.  Daniel, help me get him on his feet.  Hopefully
that'll wake him up."  He approached closer, stopping vaguely by Nick's
right shoulder.  "Carter, you might want to back out of the way..."  He
trailed off, his eyes drawn to the knife in Parker's hand.  "Daniel,
switch with me."

They switched positions, then in a few seconds, they lifted Nick up onto
his feet.  The action once again got a reaction, although since the Zat
lay on the floor, it was the knife-hand Nick moved.  Jack had been
prepared for the move, but even substantially weakened, the vampire was
still stronger than him.  "Carter..."

Sam had stepped forward even before Jack said her name.  She took hold
of Nick's wrist from above, but she couldn't do much more than help the
colonel keep him from thrusting the blade behind him.  "Nick?" she said,
trying to get his attention.  All she needed to do was pull him out of
his instincts, help him recognise who they were as she had done mere
minutes ago.  "Nick, you'll be fine.  We're going to take you back--"

Sam had to stop speaking as she struggled to keep the hand that held the
knife still, but she and Jack could do nothing.  In a split second Nick
stabbed the knife into his lower right abdomen; only then did he let go
of the weapon.  He left the blade deep inside his flesh while the handle
poked awkwardly out of what remained of his bloody shirt.  His goal
accomplished, he stopped fighting the others.

Jack almost let go of Nick out of surprise, but instead he winced at
seeing both the fresh blood around the new wound and the vampire's
reaction to the injury.

Sam let go of Nick's wrist, since the threat of the knife was now gone.
She could also see a change in his stance, even though he had bowed his
head and shut his eyes tightly.  He was stronger now, not needing as
much help to stay on his feet.  "Nick?" she said again, and he focused
on her almost immediately.  She flinched upon seeing his eyes, which
glowed brightly for a moment before fading first to a greenish yellow
and then finally to blue...but he looked straight at her the whole time.
"We're taking you back to Earth now, all right?  Nick?"

For several seconds, he simply tried to piece together where he was and
who he was now with.  The first he could still remember.  The second...
While he knew who they were, there was some nagging question that he
couldn't recall quite yet.  The only question he could think of, he
asked, "Can you save her?"

"The symbiote?" Sam asked.

He slowly nodded.

"I don't know.  The sooner we get you to Dr. Fraiser, the more likely
that we can," she answered.  "How do you feel--not counting the knife?"

"Headache.  I have a headache."

"And the gate is about a mile and a half away.  We need to get moving,"
Jack said and started to turn them, but Sam stopped him.

"Nick, are you going to be all right until we get back?" she asked, but
he didn't answer her.  "What about the dagger?  Do you want me to take
it--"

"No," he said the moment he knew her question.  "Leave it."

"Carter, Teal'c, make sure our path is clear," Jack said, then shifted
his hold on Nick, bringing the other man's arm over his shoulder.
Daniel did the same, and they left.

The journey back to the stargate was slow, first because they needed to
get outside, then they ended up pausing for a moment before leaving the
building--the sun was coming up.

They had left in the pre-dawn light, but didn't make as much progress as
hoped.  Unfortunately, as Nick weakened, he started to stumble more and
more.  Eventually he fell away from Daniel and pulled the dagger out of
his gut.  When they continued, they were able to move a bit faster...at
least for a time.  Just before reaching the gate, however, Nick weakened
and could barely move again.  He feebly reached for the blade Daniel had
taken, but couldn't get to it.

After finally reaching the gate, Nick started to pull away from the
mortal's helping him along again.  Eventually he broke free, only to
collapse to his hands and knees.  He could feel the rising sun.  It
started to hurt--but not quite burn--his skin.  But the pain in his
head...it was even worse than what he felt from the sun.

"Now what?" Jack asked, frustrated.  "We can't take him back like this."

Rather than answer, Daniel shrugged off his jacket.

"Okay, Daniel, now what are you doing?"

"He's healing again, Jack, and he was hit in the middle of his back with
a staff weapon.  If anyone sees that, they'll realise that he shouldn't
be able to walk.  My jacket will at least cover that wound," he
explained and helped Nick into the garment, which the other man made no
effort to stop.  Next, both he and Jack pulled him up to his feet again,
then Daniel handed the still bloody dagger to the colonel.

While he took the weapon, Jack flipped it in his hand, fiddling with it.
"And what am I supposed to do with this?"

"Colonel, we need to get him to the infirmary as quickly as possible
without anyone who doesn't know what he is getting too close.  The best
and easiest way to do that is to do what he did, literally, minutes ago.
He knows what he's doing."

"And then take him through the gate room?  A freshly injured--"

"He's not going to attack anyone, Jack," Daniel pleaded.  "Not even you.
Don't worry; he'll be fine."

Jack still hesitated; Nick didn't even acknowledge their conversation.
It was strange.  He had the impression the vampire noticed almost
everything.  If nothing else, he was considerably smarter than himself.
And stronger, even when weakened like this, even if he needed help at
the moment.

Sam winced a little at the thought of them deliberately stabbing Nick
again, but attempted to clarify Daniel's suggestion, "Colonel, all you
need to do is stab him somewhere--somewhere that won't make him pass
out."

"And how do I know where that is, Carter?" Jack asked, but his attention
turned back to Nick.  While this would be easier if his goal was to
kill, his target being a vampire would probably give him a little more
leeway.  He didn't have to be exact.  He let his gaze drop to the
bloodstains, which he supposed would be a good enough area to aim for.
With a wince, he pulled away and let Daniel support Nick's weight.
Then, without further warning, he drove the dagger into the vampire's
side.  Rather than release the handle and leave the knife in place like
Nick had, Jack waited a few seconds and then pulled it quickly free.

Nick gasped, then instinctively turned toward the one who had stabbed
him.

Jack pulled back slightly when the vampire's eyes flashed first brightly
then inhumanly before clearing.

"I'm fine," Nick muttered and let his eyes drop to the ground, even
though he didn't feel at all fine.  Already he could tell he was healing
again.

After dialling the DHD and sending their iris code, Sam suggested,
"Colonel, you and Daniel should head straight for the infirmary.
Teal'c, too.  I'm going to the control room to--"

"Tell Fraiser and Hammond what's going on, that there's a change of
plan," Jack finished.  "Got it."

She nodded then vanished into the gate.

Next, Jack again took Nick's side, and he and Daniel walked him through
the gate.

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

"General, I need her here," Fraiser said in barely more than a whisper
while they spoke in the hall outside the infirmary.

"And yet you explained to me that you wanted to delay telling Parker--"

"And we won't tell him, nor will he see her.  She has a strong medical
background and knows what he is.  Other than myself, I only have two
staff members who know what he is.  And don't forget that once the
stasis tank is ready, I'll have two patients.  I'll have my hands full
with the symbiote, and if she was here, she could stabilise him.  She
probably knows more about Nick's physiology than I do, anyway, and even
if she doesn't directly help, I may need to ask her some questions."

She paused, closing her eyes for a moment.  "I already started
monitoring his higher brain functions, and frankly I don't know what I'm
looking at.  However human he appears, his brain and how it works is
very different from ours.  So much so that I'm having trouble isolating
that signal from that of the symbiote.  Nick himself is barely
functioning.  I don't think he has any idea where he is at the moment."

"And what if he senses her in the room?  He could sense--"

"He could sense LaCroix all the way from the surface, yes.  But, Sir, I
have the impression that was a very different situation.  LaCroix was
purposely broadcasting who and where he was for Nick...  But Nick had no
idea she was even there.  As far as he knows, she's dead and has been
for some time.  And I think the risk of him seeing her is worth it."

Hammond took in a deep breath, but nodded.  "Have Dr. Jackson bring her
here and explain that she is to follow any instructions you give and not
reveal herself to him.  If she tries..."

"She'll be removed.  I'll make sure of it.  But right now I'm more
worried about our other guest.  I have a feeling he's no longer
pretending to sleep."

"No, Doctor, he isn't."

Fraiser pursed her lips.  So much could go wrong in the next few minutes
or hours...but it could also be fine.  As long as Nick recovered from
his inevitable dose of symbiote poison--which she knew he would, but it
would also likely take a while--she fully expected everything would work
out in the end...one way or another.



A Trial Run - (20/32)

After not being updated for over a day, Natalie suddenly sensed
something.  LaCroix was agitated.  Pacing, if she had to guess.  And the
base's level of activity had become busier over the last ten minutes or
so.  All this she knew meant Nick had returned, but that should have
made LaCroix pleased, not worried...or whatever he was.

She herself fought the urge to pace.  She wanted to know what had
happened, what LaCroix was reacting to, and whose footsteps were
hurrying toward her position.

Turning to face the door, she tensed as the steps moved ever closer.
She didn't relax when the individual identified himself by telling her
guards to let him in, nor when Dr. Jackson mentioned he was there under
orders.  Even when the guards addressed her, telling her to move back,
she remained exactly where she stood in the middle of the room, frozen.

Daniel entered, closed the door, then quickly started, "You need to come
with me right now, but only if you'll follow any instructions--"

"Nick's back," Natalie stated, cutting him off.  "Right?"

He hesitated, but answered, "Yes..."

"And that's why you're here."

"Yes."

"How is he?  Can you--"

"That's...complicated," Daniel said, but could see her frustration and
tried to better explain, "He's semi-conscious.  And Dr. Fraiser actually
has two patients in a way, or she will soon."

"And that relates to Nick...how?"

"Because the other patient is inside him," he slowly but rather bluntly
answered.  "And when it leaves him, it will kill him--at least
temporarily.  We're fairly sure he'll recover, but you know a lot more
about what he is and have medical training, so--"

"So she wants me there to help," Natalie guessed.  "That's why you're
here."

"Yes, and depending on how things go, this could be the only time you'll
see him.  And if not, it's the first--"

"First chance I have to see him."

"And you get to leave here for a while, which could be a bit of a plus."

Natalie hadn't really thought about that, but she had been confined to
that room for several days now.  It would be nice to truly walk
somewhere and not simply pace back and forth in what really was a rather
small room...but it was the chance to see Nick that made her remember
what Dr. Jackson had started to tell her and say, "I'll follow any
instructions I have to."

"Even if you're told to leave?  Or, I should say, *when* you're told to
leave?"

Natalie nodded.

"And you'll do what you can to keep him from seeing you?"

She narrowed her eyes at the added request, but the mortal had mentioned
Nick was semi-conscious, and after a moment of hesitation, answered,
"Yes.  Are those the only conditions of me going with you?"

"Yes, but if you have no intention--"

"I want to see him, even if it's only for a few minutes, and if I can do
something to help him--or anyone else, for that matter--I want to."

"Then the main things you need to remember to do are to keep quiet and
stay out of sight.  If he realises you're there or that you're not
human, you'll have to leave.  It doesn't matter what you're doing at
that moment, you leave right then.  Fraiser wants you to be clear on
that and understand that she wants to postpone any real meeting between
you two for a later time."

Natalie didn't quite like the sound of that--specifically that it didn't
matter what she was doing at the time--but nodded.  "I understand.  And
I'll do whatever is asked of me."

"Good.  Now follow me and please don't try to wander off--not that you'd
want to right now."

She stiffened for a moment, but waited until Jackson called for the
guards to open the door...and then, surprisingly, it hadn't been that
difficult to talk the soldiers into letting her leave.  It did, however,
take a few moments before they left.

She walked nervously behind her mortal guide as he quickly led her down
several halls, to an elevator, then down more corridors.  Her guards
followed a few steps behind her.  Undoubtedly approaching their
destination, she sensed...something.  More specifically, she sensed
another vampire--Nick.  It had to be.  But she didn't sense anything
like she expected, like she sometimes could with LaCroix, and they were
only indirectly related, linked through Nick.  She slowed until she
caught a glimpse of one of her guards out of the corner of her eye.

She quickly caught back up to the mortal again, and in moments, they
reached the infirmary.  She heard tell-tale sounds of the aftermath of
an emergency before she saw it--saw Nick.  Her first glimpse of him made
her feel ill, and she stopped the moment she entered the room.

She could see and smell blood--Nick's blood, and lots of it--and on his
back was a large, circular wound, a burn of some sort.  It hadn't fully
healed, and she could smell the scorched flesh, but the injury didn't
look fresh.  He lay there alone, with no one attending him.

The closest person to him was a man, one who'd participated in her and
LaCroix' capture.  She hadn't gotten much of an impression of him,
beyond the fact that she didn't think she liked him.  Dr. Fraiser was
off in another part of the room with the woman who had brought her the
clothes several days ago--Major Carter.  They were setting something up
until Carter nodded in her direction, then the CMO turned and saw her.
Fraiser had the other woman finish up whatever they were doing and
started over toward her.

"Did Dr. Jackson explain that you're here first and foremost because of
what you know, and because I think you can help?"

Natalie silently nodded.

"Good.  Now, before you go in, you need to know to stay out of sight and
only do what I tell you to...and this could be harder for you than you
might think.  I don't know if Daniel explained anything, but to put it
in the simplest terms I can, Nick has been taken as a host by a
symbiotic alien life-form.  Unfortunately, because of what he is, the
process hasn't worked the way it's supposed to, the way it would in a
normal human."

"What, exactly, do you mean when you say 'taken as a host'?" Natalie
immediately asked, not liking the mortal's description at all.  "You're
saying there's some sort of alien creature inside him?  That's taken--"

"Please, I know you have a lot of questions, but this isn't the time,"
Fraiser interrupted, raising her voice a little.  "All I can explain
right now is that the symbiote is--it's intelligent in its own right,
and we suspect Nick did this voluntarily, as an attempt to save it in
the only way he knew how.  The problem is that vampire physiology
attacks and repairs damage caused by intruding foreign matter, whether
inanimate or living...or at least that's how I understand it."

"Pretty much, yeah," Natalie said, nodding.

"Well, as a result, the symbiote can't fully integrate itself into his
body like it could--and would--with one of us.  The only sign of it has
been whenever he's deliberately injured himself or if someone else
injures him, and then it's only for a second.  It's also the only time
he he's been lucid and able to speak himself.  In order to help him, the
symbiote has to be convinced to leave his body."

"All right, but how do we do that?" she now asked, merely wanting to
know what she needed to do.

"The bigger problem is that when it does, it will release a poison that
will kill him."  She quickly held up her hands and continued, "We have
every reason to believe he'll recover due to what he is.  And the
symbiote doesn't do it intentionally--it's a biological process it can't
prevent."

Natalie felt horrified by the slightly longer explanation and wanted to
speak, but stopped herself.

"Again, I'm positive he'll recover from the poison, but at that point, I
will have two patients, and I have a feeling the symbiote will be worse
off.  Your task will be to help Nick by starting an IV of blood, but not
until *after* it leaves him."

Fraiser paused, then closed her eyes for moment before she asked, "Now,
I have a question for you.  Just nod yes or no for an answer.  Most of
the injuries he's given himself are to the lower abdomen or upper
thighs.  I've assumed this is so he doesn't pass out or momentarily die
from the injury.  To get the symbiote to leave, we'll have to give him a
more severe injury.  The plan is to aim for one of his kidneys.  The
question is, will he heal from--"

Natalie closed her eyes, but nodded.  She didn't want him to be hurt
like that, but she understood the doctor's reasoning and knew he'd
recover.

"Okay, good.  Now, if you have to leave at any time, do so, all right?
You don't have to ask permission."

This time she stiffened a little.  She had no plans of going anywhere,
no matter how she felt--not unless she had to.  "Will you, ah--"

"Be the one to stab him?" Fraiser guessed and got another reluctant nod.
"No, one of those who retrieved him will do that."

"Does this person have medical training?"

Wincing, she answered, "Not exactly, but medical precision isn't needed,
and I don't want to introduce another person into the mix.  As I said,
he's one of those who retrieved Nick--specifically, he's been the one
to...help him retain some semblance of consciousness."

"He's already stabbed him," Natalie realised.

"Yes.  I'd do it myself, but I'll need to get his attention immediately
after the injury--his and the symbiote's--and I don't know how much time
we'll have.  Possibly not much at all."

Natalie closed her eyes again and took in a deep breath to try and calm
and relax her muscles and her thoughts.  She had to trust that this
mortal knew what she was doing.  If she didn't--or couldn't, at least
for a time--she shouldn't be there.  "All right.  What do you want me to
do?"

"There's a sink off to the right.  Wash up and put a mask and gloves on,
then come over."

Natalie felt a little awkward when Fraiser turned and left, but after a
couple of seconds, she went to the sink and disinfected her hands, then
quickly donned a mask and a pair of surgical gloves.  Once she turned
back, she found the mortal doctor hovering over where Nick lay, faced
away from herself.  She approached, but only so far.  A man stood where
she would need to be to give Nick blood later.

"Nick?  I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can, Colonel O'Neill
is going to stab you on your left side," Fraiser said, but he didn't
meet her gaze.  She looked up and gave a nod to Jack, who still had the
bloody dagger Nick had been using.

Natalie tensed and took a step back.  Apparently Colonel O'Neill was the
name of the man standing next to her.  As Fraiser spoke, he had moved a
little closer to her.  She stiffened further when he rather expertly
slid the blade into Nick's side, precisely between his ribs and
assuredly into a kidney.  The action wasn't slow, but quick--and even a
little forceful.  Tactical precision rather than medical precision.
Blood oozed from the wound, but the man didn't remove the blade.
Natalie moved slightly closer out of concern, even though Nick didn't
make a sound.  Instead, he tried to curl up.

"Nick?" Fraiser repeated, and this time he turned his head to look up at
her.  "Good.  Now, can you tell me anything about the symbiote?  Is
it--"

"She's in pain."

"All right, can you sense anything else?"

"Where am I?" he mumbled, trying to look around, but everything seemed
to be out of focus.

"You're back at the SGC, in the infirmary.  We'll be able to sustain the
symbiote, but we need her to leave your body.  Can you somehow
communicate that to her?"

"I don't...  I think she's afraid, but I can't..."

"Okay, how about you close your eyes and try to relax.  Let the symbiote
take control.  Let me talk to her directly," Fraiser said, but honestly
she didn't know if it would work.  She waited and could see more pain on
Nick's features.  After a moment, he opened his eyes and they glowed
brightly for a second.  When his demeanour visibly changed, she couldn't
help but smile a little.

"If I leave him, I will kill him," Nick said, but his voice had changed,
deepened.

Natalie didn't like the strange tone, the strange alteration of his
voice.  It didn't sound...natural.  Moreover, it certainly wasn't Nick
who spoke.

"He isn't human.  He can survive the toxin.  I'm sure he'll recover.
And if you don't leave him, you yourself will die--soon.  I don't think
any of us want that to happen, and we *do* have the means to sustain you
until the others get here."

"Then I shall wait."

"No," Fraiser said more firmly.  "No, you need to leave him *now*.
Right now you're both in constant pain, and that's not good for either
of you.  Worse, his system is physically attacking you, and his other
wounds can't heal without killing you."

"Some of his wounds will never heal.  I'd sacrifice myself if--  He--"
Nick's eyes closed in pain.

"You need to leave him.  Now.  In a few more seconds, his system is
going to focus once again on killing you.  You can avoid that by getting
out of his body.  We know you'll kill him, but in his case, that's
temporary.  I'm sure he'll recover on his own once we can tend to him,
but we can't do anything for *either* of you until you leave him.  After
that, we'll do everything we can for *both* of you.  Please."

When Nick's eyes reopened, Fraiser saw a strange blankness to his
gaze...the same blankness she had seen when Jack and Daniel had brought
him to her.  "Colonel, remove the knife," she said, remembering what
they had said about when he had done it before--that it had seemed to
strengthen him for a moment.  She saw Nick react, but she didn't know if
it was him or the symbiote.  "Please, if you can, if you have the
strength, leave him now."

Natalie had tensed at the comment that some of his wounds would never
heal.  Whatever was inside him somehow knew Nick, and it made her feel
sad and wonder if she was part of what was being referred to, if his
memory of what had happened to her was one of those wounds that wouldn't
heal.  She wanted to comfort him, but she crossed her arms to keep
herself from doing exactly that.  And then...then she saw him stiffen.
She gasped as something came out of his mouth.  The slim and slimy
creature writhing its way out of him looked more like some sort of sea
life than alien...and it had festering lesions all over it and clearly
struggled to move.

Natalie had the urge to step back, but at that moment Dr. Fraiser looked
up at her and told her to start the IV.  It was much harder than she
expected.  She felt clumsy while she did it, mainly because the bulk of
her attention stayed on Fraiser and the strange creature that the mortal
carefully transferred to a tank.

Nick didn't react when her gloved hands touched his arm while she
inserted the IV.  In fact, the screen with his life signs went to
nothing.  His wounds weren't healing, either, but then he also had
internal injuries...from the knife and also likely from the creature
that had left him.  And then there was that odd circular burn on his
back, as well as what could only have been other stab wounds, although
all she could see of those was the blood.

She felt so helpless just standing there.  Spying a scalpel, she went
for it on instinct.  Before she could slice into her wrist, someone
grabbed her arms from behind.  He was strong, but she was stronger.

"Dr. Fraiser," Teal'c said, which stopped the woman's struggles against
him.  He didn't, however, release her; she still had the scalpel.

Fraiser immediately came back to where Nick lay, but this time she
walked around the gurney and directly up to Natalie.  "Give me the
scalpel."

"He needs blood.  He needs *my* blood.  It'll help him heal much
faster."

"I'm sorry, but even if it will, I can't allow it."  Carefully holding
her hand out for the blade in the other woman's hand, she repeated,
"Now, give me the scalpel."

Natalie hesitated, but released her grip on the tool.  She felt it
pulled away and soon heard the sound of metal on metal as Fraiser set it
down somewhere.

"Now, Teal'c...let go of her."  When he didn't, instead merely
continuing to stare stonily down on them, Fraiser added, asking, "You
won't do that again, will you?"

"No," Natalie answered.

"Teal'c?"

After a moment, he released Natalie.

"Now, I'd like for you to help me get him out of these clothes and clean
his wounds...or at least his blood from where they were.  But if you try
anything like that again, I'll have Teal'c remove you.  Do you
understand?"

"Yes," Natalie replied, but didn't know for sure if she could manage to
obey.  She'd try, but Nick's blood smelled so very strong, so very
fresh.  Worse yet, she knew the blood would tell her a lot about Nick's
condition if she could have a taste...but Fraiser certainly wouldn't
allow it.

Despite her want, her *need* to know how Nick felt, Natalie managed to
help the mortal doctor get him out of the strange clothes, clean off any
dry or fresh blood, clean the now rapidly healing burn wound, and get
him into a set of white scrubs.  None of what she did or saw made her
feel any better, however.  After disposing of her gloves and mask, she
had returned to his bedside.

Something was definitely off about him.  Her best guess was that he had
lost weight, but not so much that it really changed his appearance.  But
for that to have happened...she hadn't even known it was possible, much
less how it could happen.  Vampires didn't really change--physically.
Her weight hadn't fluctuated much at all since she had become a vampire,
nor had she ever looked ill, even when she hadn't been well-fed.  And
yet here Nick was, looking noticeably worse.

When Natalie froze in place once they had finished, Fraiser asked, "Is
something wrong?"

She looked up at the other woman, who appeared genuinely concerned.
"Ah, not really, I don't think."  She didn't really want to explain that
Nick looked either thinner or somehow sicklier; it didn't really matter
right now.  "It's probably nothing.  I mean, it's been about five years
since I've seen him..."

While that might explain it, Fraiser could clearly see that she was
nervous.  "Are you doing all right with what you've seen so far?"

"Yeah, mostly.  I wasn't expecting what he had done, or that
creature...ah, alien..."

"Symbiote."

"Or the big burn, for that matter.  Looked sort of electrical...but
not."

"Even that is healing quite nicely...amazingly, really.  That type of
wound in that location typically kills the recipient."

"And since he's healing now, it's probably time for me to leave,"
Natalie guessed.

Fraiser glanced at the monitor.  The other times Nick had been
unconscious, he hadn't woken until he had actually slept, as opposed to
the there death-like state he was currently in.  There wasn't even the
slightest sign of life.  "Soon," she answered.  "It should be fine for
you to stay a few more minutes."

"Thank you," Natalie said, turning her attention back to her friend.  It
now hit her that there was another way he seemed different--he looked so
utterly helpless.  She didn't know if that merely had to do with the
current situation, but nevertheless he was far more injured, weak, and
vulnerable than she had hoped.  She reached forward and gently touched
his face, brushing his hair back a little from the numerous sensor
leads, but the touch elicited no trace of a reaction in him or on the
monitor.

Fraiser went to check on the symbiote.  It wasn't doing as well as she
would like.

Natalie's attention wavered between Nick and what the mortal doctor was
doing.  At some point the other woman, Major Carter, and Colonel O'Neill
had left.  So had one of the nurses that had been helping out.

Glancing back down at Nick, she tensed upon seeing him staring up at
her.  His features had a strange expression that she couldn't describe.
The only thing she knew for sure was that he clearly saw her...and
recognised her.

Remembering what she had been told, she immediately backed and turned
away, but his hand caught her by the wrist.  When she tried to pull
away, his fingers clamped painfully down on her skin and bones.

She looked over to Fraiser again, but the other woman's attention was
elsewhere.  She nearly spoke, then saw Dr. Jackson, who must have been
somewhere behind her, head toward the doctor.  She felt so panicked when
Nick tried to hold onto her, but he merely stared at her, otherwise
frozen.  Or he did until Fraiser came over, and got his attention by
reaching across him for his hand.

"It's all right," she said.  "Nick, look at me.  The effects of the
toxin--"

At the gentle words, his attention strayed enough that Natalie managed
to pull her wrist free, and she finished turning and headed out into the
hall.  It didn't block out what happened next, however.

Fraiser tried to push him back when he tried to sit up.  "Nick, no--"

"Leave me alone, let me go to her," he mumbled, his attention on the
door where the angel had vanished.

"You need to rest, let yourself heal," she said, then watched his
attention drift to his arms.  The moment he spied the IV of blood, he
reached for it.  He pulled it out roughly, even as she tried to stop
him.  "No, don't--"

He pushed her away from him, then pulled off an oxygen line and several
sensor leads stuck around his hairline.  He tried to get up, but the
mortal doctor kept trying to stop him.  "Let me die, let the poison kill
me."

"It's not going to kill you," Fraiser argued, but now she lost her grip
on him.

Nick stumbled a couple of steps, heading vaguely for where he had seen
what he had long hoped to see, but then he felt someone grab him from
behind.  He tried to break free, but was shoved to the ground in
seconds.  Pushed face down, he made no attempt to fight.  Even now he
could feel himself weakening.  He had no desire to fight any longer.

Fraiser knelt down near where Teal'c had her patient pinned down, but
his gaze stared blankly at the floor.  "Nick, you need to rest.  Let's
get you--"

"I want you to leave me alone...just leave me alone," he muttered again.
"Leave me to die.  Let me die in peace."

She didn't really understand what Nick was saying or why he was saying
it, but wanted him to lie back down again.  "Teal'c, let's get him back
on the gurney," she said, but the moment she did, Nick started to
struggle again.  She saw him change, his eyes glowing a green-gold.
"Nick, you need to stop fighting us."

"Then leave me here.  Leave me alone and let me die."

"You're not dying."

"If you don't give me blood, she can take me.  She's here to take me.
Let me go."

Now Fraiser had a better idea what he was talking about.  The 'she' was
Natalie.  He had seen her, recognised her, but mistook her for a
ghost...or possibly an angel.

"You're hallucinating," she reasoned, even though that was probably only
partly true.  "You need to rest until the effects of the poison wear
off.  Please..."

She waited, but Nick only pushed harder against Teal'c.  She didn't want
to do this, but knew she didn't have much choice, and asked the nurse to
bring her a dose of the drug to sedate him.  Nick struggled even more
upon hearing her request, and made it hard for her to give him the
injection.  He didn't pass out from it immediately, either, like she had
expected.  "Nick--"

"Please, let the angel take me.  I knew she'd come.  She's here for me.
Please..." he pleaded, but he didn't fight the man holding him down as
much.

Fraiser tensed, realising that although he was weaker, one dose wasn't
going to be enough.  He continued to mumble frantically about the angel
having come for him.  While she really didn't want to give him more of
the drug, she had the nurse bring her another pre-filled syringe and
gave it to him.  Within seconds, his muscles unwillingly relaxed and
he--for the moment--died where he lay.

"Damn it," she muttered and Teal'c let go of Nick's now limp body.  She
hated the idea of intentionally hurting someone like this, because that
was precisely what those drugs did.  They subdued a vampire by
temporarily killing them.  She didn't agree with it, but she hadn't had
much choice.  "Teal'c, Daniel, help me get him back in bed," she said,
standing as she did so.

In moments the two men lifted him up off the floor and took him back to
his hospital bed.  Fraiser reattached the EEG leads, but held off on
reinserting the IV and fixing the oxygen line.  "Daniel...have Natalie
brought back in here.  I need to talk to her right now."

Natalie hung back when she had heard Dr. Fraiser give her order to Dr.
Jackson.  Moments later he had come outside into the hall and pretty
much repeated the order for her to return to the infirmary.  Only when
one of her guards reached for her did she start forward and accompany
him.  He seemed nice enough, but he had also seen what had happened and
had to know it was her presence that had caused Nick to react like that.
In some ways, Daniel Jackson might be the closest thing Nick had to a
friend here.  She fully expected to get a reprimand, but once she
re-entered the infirmary and stopped next to Nick's bed, all she saw on
Dr. Fraiser's features was pity.

"I'm sorry about that.  I didn't expect him to wake so soon."

"We heal fast."

"Perhaps, but I still expected it to take longer for him to wake," the
doctor explained.  "And I really didn't want to do this to him.  The
drugs had finally been purged from his system or were at least well on
their way, and now..."  She sighed, shaking her head a little.  "I had
no choice but to give him another dose.  He'll be out for at least half
an hour, if not a full hour."

"But this time I have to go," Natalie guessed.

"You will, but you can stay for a few minutes.  I'd also like to ask you
a few questions..."

"About what Nick said," Natalie guessed again, but this time she knew
she would be right.  "Because he saw me and recognised me."

"Yes, but also what, specifically, he said.  Seeing you and thinking you
were an angel come to take him...that points to some sort of--"

"Before he...killed me...I had told him, basically, that I had faith in
him and that, regardless of what happened, we'd be together somehow.
Whether he made me like him or killed me."

"And he thought he was dying and that what you said back then was
finally coming true," Fraiser finished.

"Probably.  Nick..."  Natalie trailed off, knowing she might be telling
this mortal more than she should, but after a few seconds, she
continued, "He can become fixated on ideas he finds...desirable, I
guess.  And he's had, what, five years to want..."

Fraiser didn't quite understand how anyone would rather die than live,
even though she had heard comments vaguely along those lines before from
Nick.

"Just...please keep watch on him when he wakes.  And keep him from doing
anything...drastic," she pleaded, not saying quite what she was afraid
of.  They knew.  They had to after Nick's repeated pleas.

"I'm not going to let him harm himself," she said more outright.  "I
don't think he will, though, but--"

"But you'll have to do some explaining."

Nodding, Fraiser tried to give Natalie a reassuring smile, but it didn't
seem to help the other woman relax.  "As I said, you can stay here a few
minutes.  We'll hold off on the IV until you leave, just in case."

Natalie didn't want to hold up Nick's treatment.  He needed blood, she
could see that by just looking at him.  Approaching the bedside a little
closer, she focused in on his slack features.  While she knew she should
simply leave, she reached forward and touched his face, his hair for a
second, then she leaned over and gave him a short, simple kiss on his
temple.  It hurt having to turn away, especially not knowing if she'd
ever see him again, but she did and walked straight for the hall.  She
knew her guards would be waiting to escort her back to the room she'd
been held in.  She had almost made her way through the door when she
sensed someone behind her--Fraiser.

"You don't have to leave yet.  He'll be unconscious for--"

"No, I need to go.  You can't risk him seeing me again before you have a
chance to talk to him.  And I can't...I can't do anything to help him
right now."

"And I know that you don't want to lose him now that you've found him,
even seen him," she guessed.  This was as hard for Natalie as it would
be for Nick.  She didn't say anything further as the woman left.  There
was nothing she could say to make her feel better or relieve her
worries.

Long after Natalie had left, Fraiser kept a close watch on both her
patients.  The Tok'ra wouldn't be arriving for several hours--at least.
And then Nick...  He slept not so soundly, which distracted her from
most of her other duties.

Then there were the other vampires--Natalie Lambert and Lucien LaCroix.
Natalie had been taken back to her cell and appeared to be waiting
patiently--more patiently than expected--for news.  But LaCroix, as
expected, had done little more than pace, test the force field at the
doorway, and then from time to time, she caught him glaring directly at
the camera.  The last unnerved her.  He obviously wanted whoever was
watching to know he wasn't happy and that he knew something was up.
Sooner or later they would have to talk to him--probably sooner.

Fraiser fully expected that once Nick woke, he'd be as restless as their
other guest.  And if he could sense the other vampire outside on the
surface, he certainly would when they were on the same level of the SGC.
And it was clear that even with Nick unconscious, the older man could
sense something.  She now wondered whether her patient's unsettled sleep
was due to the shock of seeing Natalie or because even now he could feel
the other man's presence.

As she waited, her attention drifted to the monitor.  The readings had
changed.  She still didn't fully understand his life signs--the EEG
showing his brain function wasn't normal for a human--but as she
expected, he woke a moment later.  She had another dose of the drug
cocktail in one hand, but she smiled and hoped she wouldn't have to use
it.  "Good to see you awake, Nick."

His eyes locked on her, then he scanned the room, expecting to see
someone, anyone, but she was alone except for a couple of soldiers,
probably for him.  Eventually his gaze stopped on the tank across the
room.

Fraiser noticed and, before he could ask, she said, "I think she'll be
fine.  The others are coming to get her in a little bit."

Nick looked away, then he abruptly squinted when a small light briefly
shone into his sensitive eyes.

"Are you all right?"

"I have a headache," he mumbled, then raised a hand to his head where
his fingers touched the leads.  He remembered that, somehow, and he
started pulling them off.

She patiently watched him pull the connectors off for the second time,
and remove the oxygen cannula, but this time when he went for the IV,
she caught his wrist.  Unlike before, he didn't fight her or pull it out
anyway; he was calmer this time.  It eased her thoughts a little, but
she kept hold of the syringe in her other hand.  "You need to leave that
in for now.  If you have a headache, it means you're probably still
healing, and I want you to stay here for now."

At the mention of staying there, Nick tensed.  He didn't want to stay
there, but why...  He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but within
moments, his panic rose and he tried to sit up.  He reached for the IV
again, but the doctor's grip tightened.

"If you take the IV out, I will sedate you," Fraiser stated.

Nick hesitated.  He saw the soldiers in the background move closer as
well.  Still he felt panicked.  He needed to leave.  "Please, just let
me go to my quarters," he pleaded, but she merely started to shake her
head.  "I know he's here.  Please..."

"Yes, he's here," she confirmed, "But I really want and need you to stay
here...at least for a little while."

"How long?"

Fraiser took in a deep breath, trying to think.  "At least a half hour.
And later the Tok'ra may wish to speak with you, and--"

"Then I can come to them."

"Possibly, but I need to talk to General Hammond first.  And you need to
rest.  And at some point you'll need to be debriefed on what
happened--and that will probably be sooner rather than later."

While Nick agreed that he needed to rest--remnants of some dream or
nightmare were lingering on the forefront of his thoughts--he still
wanted to get away from LaCroix.  Ironically, it was probably his sire's
presence that stirred up his memories of Natalie...LaCroix and what had
happened that awful night.  Those tragic memories somehow felt stronger
and fresher than those of the last few days.

His head hurt, he felt weak, and despite having no idea what day it was,
he felt he could sleep for some time.  But knowing LaCroix was there,
that he had gotten into the base and--Nick assumed--had been detained,
he had questions.  "Did he...harm anyone?"

"No."

"He didn't--"

"He pinned Daniel to the wall at one point and Daniel got hit by a Zat
blast, but he didn't suffer so much as a bruise.  LaCroix didn't do any
permanent harm."

"Not yet, anyway," Nick guessed, his eyes darting first to the guards
and then to an empty spot on his bed.  "Does he know..." he started,
looking up at the doctor.

"I'm sure he knows you're here now, but we haven't told him what
happened.  Nor have we said anything about where you were."

"Where is he?"

"He's in a secure location."

"I still want to go to my quarters," Nick said.  "I want to get away
from here.  He's close, very close..."  He closed his eyes for a moment.
It took a few seconds before he realised his sire's likely location.
"He's in the room where you first held me," he said, opening his eyes to
meet the doctor's.  He could see a hint of surprise.  "That room won't
hold him."

"Not the room itself, but there are other precautions we didn't use with
you."

"*Tell me.*"

Fraiser opened her mouth, but stopped herself from speaking.  She had
that sensation that he was compelling her to speak again, even though
she had planned to tell him, regardless.  She didn't like it.  "The door
is blocked by more than just guards.  There is also a force field, which
he can touch for a moment, but can't get through."

"But the door isn't the only way out.  He could break the glass and--"

"And that door is also guarded by those who know what he is and how to
stop him."

"And what do you plan to do with him?"

"For the moment, keep him where he is."

"Tell him I want nothing to do with him," Nick whispered, his gaze
drifting and darkening.  "And if he won't leave, you can send him to
Nellis and let them keep him like they kept me."

Fraiser didn't like his dark tone, nor did she know what to say.  It
wouldn't be her decision what to do with LaCroix, nor would it be
Nick's.  Despite that, she suspected the older vampire wouldn't be going
anywhere without talking to Nick, and she doubted even that would be
enough.  Not that she knew LaCroix well enough to give an accurate
opinion.  Nick's coldness on the subject didn't help ease her concerns
regarding if--or when--she'd have him and Natalie meet.

After staring silently forward for over a minute, Nick started for the
IV again.  This time he pulled it out before she could stop him.

"I meant what I said, Nick."

"And I need to get away from here," he repeated.  "Please.  So either
let me leave or sedate me again, if that's what you have to do."

He glanced toward her hand, which she quickly moved behind her.

"I won't stop you from using that, but I'm not staying in here, either."
He forced himself up into a sitting position, although it was harder
than it should have been.  He tried not to let it show how much he
struggled to move.  Swinging his legs off the side of the bed--the side
the mortal doctor stood on--he suppressed a smile when she merely
stiffened and watched him.  She wasn't going to sedate him as she had
threatened.  He slid off the bed, but didn't stand freely from it.  He
felt dizzy and images from the strange dream flashed in his thoughts
again.

"Nick--"

"I'm fine," he said, forcing his attention on the doctor.

"I'm sorry, but you don't look fine."

"But you'll let me leave?"

She took in a deep breath, then reluctantly replied, "Yes, but if you
can't make it to your quarters on your own, I'll have you brought back
here.  And in either case, I'll continue your treatment."

She started gathering supplies, which primarily consisted of several
bags of blood and the equipment she needed to give it to him.  Glancing
back to him, she was surprised to realise he hadn't moved from where he
initially stood, although she hadn't told him not to leave yet.  "If I
ask if you're all right, are you going to say you're fine again?" she
asked, eyebrows raised, suspecting she already knew his answer.

"Yes," he said.  He'd tell any lie--even if she had proof it was a
lie--to get deeper into the facility and away from LaCroix.  "Do you
have everything you need?"

She nodded.  "Yes, we can leave now.  But remember what I said."

Nick's gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, a bit unsure if he could
actually make it to his quarters, then started unassisted across the
room to the exit to the infirmary.  The first few steps were easier than
he expected, which helped, but every step drew attention to his
lingering headache.  However hard it was and however much it hurt him,
he knew he'd at least have to try.  He didn't want LaCroix too close to
him for other reasons--his sire might overhear something or sense too
much from his thoughts.

Fraiser followed quietly behind him the entire way down to his quarters.
Several times she had wanted to say something, but she knew it would
only make him push himself harder.  As it was, just from the way he
walked, staying close to the wall, touching it more than not, she knew
he really shouldn't be doing this.  He could barely walk, barely stand,
and yet he made it to his quarters.  More than anything, his
determination proved how very much he wanted to get away from
LaCroix--far more than his repeated mention of it.

Once in his room, she waited with her bag while he changed out of the
white scrubs into boxers and a t-shirt out of sight in the bathroom.
When he returned and sat down on his bed, she once more caught a glimpse
of how very tired he looked as he slumped there and stayed completely
still rather than lie down as he surely knew she'd want him to do.

When he continued to sit there, she walked in front of him and set her
bag down on the table next to an alarm clock.  Pulling out several
items--gloves, blood, an IV line, and alcohol swabs--she told him, "I
need you to either shift to one side or lie down so I can restart the
IV."

He glanced up at the doctor for a moment, then closed his eyes while he
turned and lay back.  It wasn't too hard, but he felt dizzy again and
flitting images of Natalie hovering over him startled him, as did the
feeling of someone sitting next to him.  Snapping his eyes open, he
merely found Dr. Fraiser there, trying to smile reassuringly at him.

Upon seeing the vampire's gold-toned eyes, she hesitated before reaching
for his arm.  The inhuman hue melted back to blue after a few seconds,
but his tired, bordering on frightened features, didn't change.
Sometimes--like now--she wondered if he even noticed his appearance
change.

Nick tensed a little when the mortal took his left arm and pulled it
across him, but let her clean a spot, insert and tape down the needle,
then finally attach the IV.  After she had secured the bag on the bed's
headboard, he expected her to leave.  Instead, she continued to sit
there on the edge of his bed.  "I'm fine," he said, figuring she was
worried about him.

She shook her head.  "You're not fine, and I think we both know that.
Now try and get some rest.  I'll keep an eye on this," she said, gently
touching the arm with the IV before standing.

"I'll be fine alone.  I don't need a babysitter," he pressed, moving to
sit up, but she pushed his shoulder back.

"I let you leave the infirmary because I understood why you didn't want
to stay there, but I have no intention of leaving you alone, not just
yet."

"But they need you in the infirmary," he countered, knowing the Tok'ra
was still there, and probably in much worse shape than he was.

"If they do, they can come get me.  For the next little while, I'm
staying right here."  Giving him another smile, she stood and walked to
the light switch, which she flipped, leaving the room in near blackness.
She then carefully made her way across the dark room and sat in the lone
chair.  There she turned on a desk lamp, although it didn't put off much
light.  For several moments, she could make out Nick's eyes staring at
her, then he moved, twisting and turning his body until he had not only
turned away from her, but also pulled the sheets and comforter that he
had been lying on over him.  In seconds, he had gone completely still.

Fraiser waited nearly fifteen minutes before standing and approaching,
mainly to check the amount of blood left in the bag.  Over half of the
blood was gone.  Nick himself was sound asleep.

She went to sit back down for a few more minutes, until the bag nearly
emptied.  Then she stood and waited, a second bag in her hand.  Her
patient didn't stir even slightly while she changed out the bags, when
she returned to her chair, nor twenty minutes later when she switched
out the second bag for a third.

Soon after that, she was called away.  A nurse took her place, but by
the time she returned, nothing much had changed, beyond the need for yet
another bag of blood.  Nick hadn't moved the whole time she had been
gone, although soon after she had resumed sitting and watching him, his
sleep became unsettled.

She had tried to wait patiently for his dream, or more likely his
nightmare, to pass, but as his sleep became more disturbed, she noticed
the bag of blood she had just switched out had emptied.  She switched it
out with the last one she had brought, then watched it empty as well.
Once it was gone, she had little choice but to remove the IV.  That task
proved to be a little harder than she would have liked because Nick was
turned away and his arm was curled up beneath him.  He didn't wake when
she removed the needle, although he seemed to be aware on some level of
her presence, because he rolled further away from her.

After removing the IV, for a moment Nick calmed, then he began to
mumble, trying to get someone--more than one someone--to leave him
alone.  Fraiser hovered over him and tried to roll him onto his back.
She managed it, but heard a low growl come from him, even though he
didn't wake.  "Nick, it's all right.  It's--"  She froze when he
abruptly woke, his eyes glowing at her again for a moment.  "Shh, it's
okay.  You're safe.  It was just a dream, a bad dream."

Nick, however, didn't feel okay.  He felt jittery, angry, hungry, and
confused.  He had completely forgotten about the doctor staying.  He had
also completely forgotten where he was.  Just when he woke, at first he
saw the infirmary again, then the planet, but no, he was back in his
quarters at the SGC.  On the other hand, he had seen Natalie again, too,
and that shouldn't have happened.

"Nick, what is it?  What's wrong?"

He had been ready to automatically say he was fine, but the different
question threw him.

"Please tell me what's wrong.  You had a dream, a nightmare, for the
second time now since SG-1 brought you back to the base."

He closed his eyes.  The first thing he remembered upon waking at the
SGC was Natalie hovering over him.  But that wasn't real, couldn't be
real.

"Nick?"

"It's nothing you can help me with," he muttered and tried to turn away
again.

Fraiser held him in place, pressing down on his hands, which lay on his
upper abdomen.  "Maybe not, but we won't know unless you tell me what's
bothering you."

He averted his eyes, focusing on the wall away from her.  He didn't want
to tell her all of what was bothering him, and so he evasively replied,
"It's more than one thing."

"What happened to you off-world...and finding LaCroix here when you
returned," she guessed.  "But which one is causing your nightmares?"

Nick snapped his attention to the overly-perceptive doctor for a moment,
wondering if she already knew the answer.

"If it's something to do with what happened, with being a host, I can
have Sam come talk to you.  She had a similar experience, and--"

"No, I think I'm okay with that."

"You think?"

"It was...different, but--  The nightmares aren't about what happened.
I'm not even sure they're nightmares."

She felt him relax, so she stopped holding him in place.  "Then tell me
about--"

Nick abruptly turned and again faced the wall.  "It wouldn't make any
sense to you.  It doesn't even make sense to me.  Please...just leave.
Go back to the infirmary."

While Fraiser didn't want to leave, she had given him all of the blood
she had brought and she had to remind herself he probably had a lot of
issues to work through.  He was back on Earth now, after having been
thrust into a completely different culture, only to end up under attack
and a host to an alien creature.  Over the course of days.  While she
had doubts the Tok'ra had fully managed to integrate with him, the
experience alone would have been, as he said, different and something he
very possibly needed to deal with on his own.  On top of that, the
reason he had left in the first place was to avoid another of his kind,
the very one who had come for him while he was gone.  Finally, the first
person he saw upon waking from his injuries was someone he believed to
be dead.  She suspected that was the part that didn't make sense to him.
If she were him, she wouldn't exactly want to mention seeing someone she
knew to be dead.  Pursing her lips, she touched his arm, but he tried to
jerk out of her light touch.

"Please go," Nick repeated.

"I will, but I thought I'd remove the cannula.  I couldn't get to it
earlier."

He hesitated, thinking for a moment before closing his eyes and rolling
onto his back.  While he wanted to be alone, it would be nice to have
the device out of his arm...and Fraiser probably knew that if she didn't
remove it, he would, eventually.  He barely felt her remove it, and the
moment she did, he pulled his arm out of her grip, then turned slowly
back to face the wall.

"Thank you for letting me do that," she said and straightened.  "If you
need anything or want to talk to someone, let me know.  And, again,
remember that you will need to be formally debriefed."  She watched him
tense a bit, but he didn't comment, and so she reluctantly left.



A Trial Run - (21/32)

As day turned to night and then day again, Nick eventually woke to the
sound of someone knocking at his door.  Fraiser again.  He had told her
to come in, but remained quiet as she entered...with his breakfast.  She
gave the blood to him by IV--more blood than he had gotten before his
little adventure.  He didn't ask why.  She probably gave him more
because he hadn't had anything the night before.  And he did feel that
he needed it, so he simply let her.

She had again mentioned that he needed to be debriefed.  He had conceded
to the request, under the condition that they did it there in his room.

After she left, he barely had time to fully dress before more knocks
came at his door, but like when Fraiser had dropped by soon before, he
didn't respond to them immediately.

"Nick?  It's me, Daniel.  May I come in?"

"Go ahead," he said, sitting on his bed to wait.

The mortal entered, and seemed nervous.  There in his hands, Nick saw a
folder...and also a tape recorder.  He didn't like it, didn't like this
at all.  He felt ambushed, even though he knew he had put this off
longer than the mortals would have preferred.  "Why do you have that?"

"Because I'm the lucky one who is going to debrief you."

"Why you?  Forgive me, but you're not military.  I'm sure--"

"The options were me, Fraiser, Jack, or Hammond himself."

"Why not have your team leader do it?  He's probably the least
involved."

"Perhaps, but you're not comfortable around him--you don't trust him."

"But I trust you," Nick stated, taking in a breath and almost rolling
his eyes as he let it out.

"That's probably the main reason I got the task, yes."

"And you're going to record my...statement?"

"Yes."

"All of it?"

Daniel nodded, but slowly.  "Anything pertaining to what you are will be
edited out of the final report."

"And how, exactly, will that be done?  If I were human, things would
have gone differently.  Events would be different.
This...interrogation...would be different."

"This isn't an interrogation."

"Interrogation...debriefing...it's the same thing."

"Well, as I said, anything that does not mesh will be...redacted.  It'll
be edited down."

"But not to everyone.  Hammond and--"

"Hammond and a few others will see the full report, yes."

"A report which you will be writing up," Nick guessed.

"Is that all right?  Or would you rather someone else--"

"No.  No, just get it over with."

"Then I would suggest you get comfortable," Daniel said, walking further
into the room.  He pulled the chair out from the desk and pulled it
across the room to the nightstand, which was where he placed the voice
recorder.

Nick shifted, sliding back from the edge of the bed until his back was
against the wall, both to put a little distance between him and the
mortal, who now sat next to the edge of the bed, and to be a little more
comfortable.

"I'm going to test this real quick, so say...anything," Daniel said,
hitting 'Record' on the recorder and letting it sit on the nightstand.
"Go ahead."

Nick eyed the device again, then said, "This is a test," and winced, but
it was the only thing that came to mind.

Daniel picked it up, stopped it, rewound it, and played back the short
recording--which played back both their voices clearly.

Nick tensed while the tape was again rewound, but rather than start it
back up, the mortal set it down.

"Now, first, I suppose we should start with what we--as in the SGC--know
about what happened to you after you left with SG-10."  He paused,
half-expecting some acknowledgement, but when he didn't get one, he
continued, "You attended the off-world orientation with the other
researchers and the newest member of SG-10.  From observing you during
that orientation, the Tok'ra agreed to hide you away--as we had hoped.
They gave you a verbal test to assess your proficiency with Goa'uld, and
after that, sent you to P2X-384."

"Corista."

"Yes.  They sent you there under the guise of a human slave to the
apparent Goa'uld ruler of that planet, a minor Goa'uld, known as
Ashira...who they almost immediately lost contact with.  Does that
sound...accurate?"

He nodded.  "Yeah, that sounds accurate."

"Which is where what we know stops," Daniel added, then he reached for
the voice recorder, which he switched on.  "So, after your arrival on
P2X-384...what happened, then?"

"The Jaffa who...retrieved me...they escorted me to my new master."

"Were you taken directly to--"

"No, I was first sent to another planet, and then taken to Corista.  One
of the Tok'ra went with me.  They came by ship rather than the stargate,
although that's where we waited.  The Jaffa who met us were loyal to the
Tok'ra agent.  Even so, it was...a little nerve-racking when my new
escort arrived."

"So those who picked you up knew the Goa'uld ruler on Corista was
actually Tok'ra?"

"Yes.  Only a few of the Jaffa knew who she really was, though.  And
most of those who knew, they were her...personal guard, I suppose you
would call them."

"So you travelled to Corista.  By ship, or--"

"By ship," Nick confirmed.  "Upon arrival--we transported to the surface
near the gate--I was escorted to the Goa'uld's...essentially her home,
although it was more formal.   Anyway, she ordered everyone out."

"Did anything seem...unusual?"

"I wouldn't know--how would I?  I had never been--nothing seemed--  She
didn't seem stressed or concerned.  Or surprised by my arrival, for that
matter."

"All right, so she...what?"

"She asked me for the data crystal I carried.  She knew I'd have been
given one.  It's one way she communicates with the others, although not
often.  She reviewed the information, which I believe mainly pertained
to myself.  I don't believe she knew what I was until then, but it
didn't faze her overly much.  After that, she asked me questions
regarding my...diet...then had another of her slaves settle me in--show
me my quarters, provide new clothes, etc."

"Did the other humans in the complex know--"

"Like the Jaffa, most did not."

"What about the individual who showed you around?  Did he or she--"

"He knew who she was.  His name was Tyran.  Like me, he had been hidden
away by the Tok'ra, albeit for other reasons."

"Did he tell you those reasons?"

Nick shook his head, then remembering the recorder, explained aloud,
"No.  Nor did he ask.  In fact, he encouraged me not to speak about my
own reasons for being there."

"So he knew you knew?"

"Yes.  She told him."

"Was he aware of what you are?"

"No.  Only she knew.  My...condition...was kept from the others.  Not
that it was difficult."

"Because you were only there a few days," Daniel guessed.

"Yes."

"And what were those days like?"

"I was a servant, and I had to play the role."

Daniel waited, but the other man didn't elaborate.  "Go on."

"I had to remain in the complex, and unless expected for some particular
duty, I was supposed to remain in my room.  Which should sound
familiar."

"What specific duties did you have?"

"I ended up attending Ashira--at the time I only knew her by that
name--more than not, especially after they quickly discovered I couldn't
cook anything...edible.  And since I could not leave the complex during
the day, I ended up assigned to be closest to her in the evenings."

"By closest to her--"

"Meaning I accompanied her wherever she went.  From what I understand,
it's not unusual.  The Goa'uld keep humans as slaves--and personal
slaves--as a...backup host, in case something goes wrong."

"And did you tell her--or did she know--that you weren't actually
capable of fulfilling that role?"

"She knew what I was, and roughly what that meant.  She asked whether
what she knew about my kind was true or not.  I told her it was, and
that was the last time we spoke about it.  She couldn't treat me too
differently from the others.  As it was, she was seen as favouring me
due to the time and manner I served her."

"And why--"

"Late afternoon...dinner...not exactly the least wanted...shift.  Those
who attended her--I suppose you could say there was an unspoken trust.
And here I was, new, yet not being relegated to the kitchen or some
other menial task."

"But they tried."

"Yes.  I am--or used to be--pretty good at making coffee and reheating
food in a microwave...but actually cooking from raw ingredients?"  He
shook his head, almost smiling a little, but only for a second.  "I
haven't done that for a very long time, and it showed.  Luckily, like
the Tok'ra who sent me there, Ashira believed my Goa'uld was proficient
enough for me to be in the more visible position."

"More visible," Daniel repeated, but it didn't elicit further
explanation.  "All right.  So other than some issues in the kitchen, you
settled in fairly well?  No issues with any of the other slaves or any
of the Jaffa?"

He shook his head.  "No, or nothing...nothing out of the ordinary.  I
tried to keep to myself, keep a low profile--basically do what I was
supposed to do, expected to do, and asked to do."

Daniel slowly nodded--he could believe that, even imagine it after
watching Nick on and off the last several months.  "Now, the attack
occurred after you were there for a few days, correct?"

"Yes."

"Were there any visitors during that time?"

Nick had to think, but after a moment, he shook his head.  "No.  No, I
don't think there were--not in person, anyway."

"What do you mean, not in person?"

"Ashira had been communicating with someone--business.  She was--harvest
was behind, the season started later than usual...quotas weren't being
met."

"And they were blaming her, despite the fact that you can't rush
nature."

"Yes.  Moreover, they were trying to step up the schedule from a normal
year.  She was trying to arrange a real meeting to explain the
situation, but they refused to either come to Corista or meet
elsewhere."

"Do you know who she was talking to?"

"Ba'al."

Daniel tried to remain relaxed, and quickly asked, "The Tok'ra...did she
fear any sort of retaliation from Ba'al?"

Nick shook his head, then answered, "No.  She was more frustrated,
angry.  She wasn't afraid."

"But she was going to try and meet whatever demands he made?"

"As best she could.  It had worked in the past.  Corista is--it's a
relatively important planet, but not important enough for one of the
system lords to take direct control of it.  No strategic importance.
They've always been content with the ruler there--which had been Ashira
for many years."

"And, again, she didn't seem concerned?"

"No.  She believed the issue had been settled, or close to it.  She
didn't know or expect--  Anyway, I sensed something happening before she
did.  Others moving in, entering the complex without warning.  She knew
what that meant."

Daniel paused briefly, knowing they were about to get to what had
actually happened.  "All right.  Now, close your eyes and try to recall
everything you can about what happened, everything you did, everything
you saw and heard."

Nick hesitated, his gaze drifting from the mortal.  He didn't want to
close his eyes and forcibly lose himself in his memories, but in truth,
it was the only way to remember all that had happened.  It had happened
so very fast...and then he had lain there so long...

"Nick?  Do you want or need to wait before--"

"No.  No, I don't need to wait."  He closed his eyes and forced himself
to relax.

"Start with when you first realised something was wrong."

He tried, but before he could think about anything that had happened,
his mind locked onto LaCroix' presence.  His maker was so close he had a
hard time focusing on the past rather than the present.

"Where were you?" Daniel prompted, noticing that he was having a hard
time focusing.

"I was where you found me, in that room."

"All right.  Now...what were you doing?"

Again Nick tried to focus, to lose himself in that moment.  And
finally...

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

"What is it?  I know you sense something.  Tell me.  Now!"

Nick glanced toward Ashira, catching the gazes of others now looking at
him as well--specifically her personal guard, who understandably did not
like her question, especially since it wasn't directed at them.

"Tell me now!" she repeated, her eyes flaring for a moment.

Nick flinched away from her oddly glowing eyes.  "I hear...others
approaching."

Ashira looked to the others in her presence, but all remained silent.
"What are these...others?  Describe them.  How many?"

"Jaffa.  At least two dozen.  Approaching, but--"  He shut his eyes
again, hearing more, hearing a sound he hadn't heard before, which
wasn't helping.

"Continue!"

"They're here.  I think--I think they're forcing their way in.  We must
leave."

"You cannot--" started one of the guards, but he stopped speaking and
bowed his head when Ashira turned to glare at him.  "Forgive me, but
this slave--"

"This slave--this *human* slave--has merely noticed something you have
not."

Nick winced, not wanting to be singled out like this.  The one who had
spoken did not know what he was, and would assume her words were
truthful--that he had missed something, even though even a Jaffa could
not possibly hear what he had.  Not yet.

"We will remain."  She shot a glare at the Jaffa when he appeared ready
to protest, silencing him.  Then her attention turned to Nick.  "Arm
him," she ordered, but no one moved.  Angrily she stepped forward and
removed the Zat from the guard that had questioned her.

Nick bowed his head and shrunk back when she approached him, holding the
weapon out.

"Do you know how to use this weapon?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Good.  Do not reveal to our...visitors...that you have it unless
necessary.  We will assume this is a...diplomatic visit."

"I hear...weapons' fire."

"Nevertheless, we will assume that is a show of force."  The Tok'ra
stiffened and returned to a position back from both her slave and her
guards.

Nick could guess what she hadn't dared said--if it was more than a mere
show of force, then they had no chance.  Corista had long been a
relatively peaceful world, with any disagreements settled through either
civil or more forced diplomacy.  But Ashira looked and sounded nervous
to his sensitive senses, despite remaining outwardly calm.  While he
suspected there had, in the past, been unexpected visitors, he knew it
was the number of Jaffa that approached that unsettled her.  It
unsettled him as well.  Armed or not, they were outnumbered.  And armed
or not, they had nowhere to go.

Reluctantly--and after getting a glare and nod from Ashira--Nick turned
to face the room's entrance.  He held his hands behind his back, as
though clasped, to hide the Zat.  It wouldn't help.  It was just him and
two Jaffa there in the room, two more in the hall.  They had no chance.

He closed his eyes once he heard the soldiers approach closer...and he
noticed the Jaffa go on full alert, now also hearing what he could.  He
kept his eyes shut until the approaching party should nearly be in
sight.

None of them had much chance to do anything.  Ashira demanded the reason
for their presence, and asked where their master was.  They informed her
she was no longer needed and opened fire.  They aimed for her Jaffa
guards first, although not before the two got off their own shots.  One
was killed instantly, the other managed another shot before he was taken
out.

Nick pulled the Zat out and aimed it at the remaining Jaffa and fired to
kill.  Ashira did all she could against them, but only took out one of
their attackers before she, too, was hit--a staff blast right over her
heart.  She went down immediately.  Nick had instinctively turned, and
he was hit in the back.  Searing pain rivalling a burn from sunlight
made him gasp and collapse.

"Ensure the slave is dead," one of the Jaffa ordered.  "Then we shall
take the city."

Nick heard one of the men activate a Zat of his own, then moments later,
he was hit with a burst of energy.  He groaned at the added pain, only
to be hit yet again.  He forced his eyes shut and his body to relax, not
that it required much effort.  With his previous injury, the two shots
were enough to bring blackness.

Next thing he knew, he woke to horrific pain.  He almost screamed as he
rolled onto his back and felt...

No.

He shut his eyes, but he somehow knew what had happened.  He could feel
it, feel her presence and her pain as he started to heal.

He moaned again with pain that wasn't his own, but understood that she
had had nowhere else to go.  He could feel and hear the abject silence
around him.  Other than himself, no one remained alive in the complex.
The Jaffa had left, heading to the city that lay just a short distance
away--this he knew from what one intruder had said and from...some other
knowledge.  Once they took the city, the planet would essentially be
theirs.

He felt his nature try to assert itself and start to heal his heavily
damaged body, which merely caused more pain.  He tried to get up, but
the most he could do was roll onto one side or the other.  His body
hadn't healed the staff blast, which had done a lot of damage...but not
enough to take priority over the intruder it sensed and was now trying
to destroy.

Only flashes of memories from the creature now inside him had made their
way into his mind, but they were powerful memories from a long and
fascinating life.  Memories she was trying to show him.  They resonated
with anguish at what the Goa'uld race had done to mankind, as well as
the long and desperate efforts of the Tok'ra and other races to thwart
their goals.  This particular being had been around far longer than even
most vampires, and had seen and done much in that time, mostly to help
others.  And now she needed his help.  And he would do whatever it took
to save her.  If he could.

He made another reach forward, this time with a specific goal in
mind--the dagger in one of the dead guards' belts.  It took two tries
before he managed to pull it free.  Then he had to force himself to roll
once more onto his injured back, at which he gasped again.

The pain from rolling onto the burn made his mind momentarily clear, and
he had conflicting thoughts, specifically about what he was planning to
do--deliberately give himself another injury.  Some part of him,
probably Ashira--no, that wasn't her name.  It was Lanar.  How he knew
that, he wasn't sure.  His thoughts strayed, his hand stayed from action
by confusion from the emotions washing through him.

Although Nick fully intended to follow through with his plan, Lanar's
thoughts had intruded on his own.  She didn't want him to feel more
pain, and was sorry for what she had done.  She had waited before
leaving her host, at first believing she might recover.  But after
finally accepting the inevitable, she had taken him, thinking they would
have more time--that he'd at least be able to get them to the stargate
and off the planet.  She hadn't realised his system would attack her so
quickly.

He couldn't do much more than lie there, his head or back screaming in
pain, depending on whether he remained still or tried to move.
Eventually he forced himself to continue on with his plan.  He brought
the knife swiftly down into his side.  He closed his eyes at the
additional source of pain and scent of his own blood, but some of the
other pain dulled and he relaxed, nearly passing out.

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

Nick closed his eyes and shook his head.  "That's all I really remember.
It happened so fast...no more than a couple of minutes from when I heard
the approach of the Jaffa until they had essentially killed us."

"What about...it sounds like you only killed a few of the enemy Jaffa.
When we arrived--"

"After they had secured the city, some of them returned, probably to
ensure she had not survived somehow."

"And you shot them just like you almost shot us."

Nick nodded.  "Yes."

"And how long do you think you were there before we arrived?" Daniel
asked, although he knew the other man might have overheard some
speculation about that since his arrival.

"I don't know.  Possibly a day...or a little more.  It was night--full
night--when the attack occurred, and I remember it being close to
sunrise when we left.  But I'm sure it was more than just a few hours.
Or at least it felt like more than a few hours, but I can't be sure.  I
do know that by the time you found me, it had been some time since the
Jaffa returned."

"And you were expecting more."

"Yes."

"All right, and you didn't go to the gate because...?"

"Because I couldn't.  Considering how far away the gate was--the best I
could do was stay relatively conscious.  And try to keep her alive.
I--we--could haven't have made it to the gate on our own."

"You didn't say, but...did you know who the Jaffa served?  Was it Ba'al,
or someone else?"

"They didn't say."

"But?"

"But from both working with you and from Lanar, I know they served
Ba'al.  And I do not believe she was overly surprised by the attack.
She just didn't think it was likely, or that he'd actually have her
killed."

"Well, we've only had a couple of dealings with him so far, but he could
be poised to become a bigger player.  And it sounds like Corista could
more or less run itself.  I mean, other than guards to keep the workers
in line..."

Nick nodded.  In the few days he had been there, there hadn't been any
issues with the operations on the actual planet, except that the crops
weren't ready to harvest--which was a whole different issue.  Perhaps if
Ashira had actually been a Goa'uld, the workers might have been pushed
harder and been more difficult to control, but then perhaps not.  And it
might not have mattered.  He had seen the fields--rather green
fields--himself, and it was just far too soon to harvest.  But Jackson
was right in that the planet could more or less run itself--it wouldn't
take many Jaffa, many resources to keep the workers in line.

"And I take it she didn't have a personal shield?  Or else she didn't
activate it."

"She didn't have one."

"Let me guess--there had never been a need."

He nodded again.  "Corista was...again, I think it was a relatively
peaceful planet, especially considering it was under Goa'uld rule.  The
humans there were treated...perhaps not the best, but fairly."

"Which may have just changed."  Daniel watched him nod again, and he
took a few seconds before asking his next question.  "Now...how
extensive...  Did she fully integrate herself with you, or--"

"No, I don't think so.  Or not fully, not quite.  I could...feel things
from her, though.  Thoughts, emotions.  Memories.  We couldn't quite
directly communicate, however, which I think is more...usual.  From how
I understand it, anyway."

"Well, as you know, she is...incapacitated, and she won't be able to
speak until she receives another host, which may not be right away."

"And you want to know if there's anything important she knew."

"Yes.  And not just me, but--"

"Her people," Nick finished and got a nod, but then he shook his head.
"I'm not sure I know anything useful, or anything that isn't already
known.  She was...worried by the unrest between the system lords, and
someone else...a new player.  And she didn't think they knew she was a
Tok'ra.  Merely...unneeded.  If they knew...  If they knew, she would
have been taken prisoner rather than outright killed.  She would have
been tortured for information, or that's the impression I got.  Unless
it's just my thoughts...  Some of that is a little...muddled."

"Well, whether your guess or hers, I think it's a correct one.  What you
said meshes with what we know.  Anything else you can think of, no
matter how minor?"

Nick shook his head.  "I'm sorry, I can't think of anything else."

Daniel reached over and shut the recording device off.  "Well, if
something comes to mind--"

"I'll let you know," Nick said, trying to smile but not quite managing
it, his thoughts already starting to stray.

"How are you doing with this?  You mentioned things being a
little...muddled."

"I'm less...  What happened on Corista is less troubling than what may
happen here in the near future," he said and met Daniel's gaze straight
on, knowing the mortal would realise what he meant.

"Well, if you want to talk or need anything or--"

"Please go, Dr. Jackson."  He closed his eyes.  "Daniel.  I'm sorry,
I--"

"You probably want to be alone," the mortal guessed, but he didn't get
an answer.  Rather than wait, he stood, took his chair back to the desk,
gathered the tape recorder and left, once again telling the other man
that if he wanted to talk, he'd listen, and once again, he got no
answer.



A Trial Run - (22/32)

After Daniel had left, Nick began to pace in his room in an attempt to
blot out the fresh images.  It didn't work.  At all.

And once those started to fade, other even *less* wanted thoughts
intruded into his mind.

LaCroix had come for him, but Nick had no intention of leaving with
him...or even speaking to him.  With the other vampire there, he also
didn't know if he'd be allowed to leave his room.  Or if he even wanted
to.  He hadn't been in the mood to talk the couple of times Fraiser had
dropped by his room, not even to ask about LaCroix, and had effectively
ignored her attempt at conversation, beyond what she said about the
Tok'ra, which wasn't much.

He knew they were coming later that day--possibly even now--and had
apparently requested to see him to thank him for saving their colleague.
And probably ask their own questions.  Fraiser had told them no--and
told him she would uphold that decision, unless he said
otherwise--which, to be honest, he was thankful for.  He had said
nothing, one way or the other.  That information had given him no
incentive for further conversation with the mortal doctor, and with his
mind still preoccupied, he hadn't even thought to ask her any questions
before she left.

Night fell again--he could sense it, especially when he closed his
eyes--but when Fraiser arrived with more blood, he kept his gaze
directed away from her...again.  Like that morning, however, he let her
give him the blood instead of telling her to leave it.

"You don't have to stay in here, you know," she said while she undid the
IV, set it and the empty bag of blood out of sight, and finally pulled
off her gloves.

"But I don't want to talk to him."

"You don't have to."

While Nick believed that was true on one level--that General Hammond
wasn't as yet forcing him to talk to LaCroix--he also knew he might do
so later.  His sire had no intention of going anywhere unless forced in
some way, and the next best thing--possibly the only effective
choice--was to have him talk to the older vampire and try to convince
him to leave.

"But you don't have to stay in here."

"But I'm still limited as to where I can go, correct?"

"No more than you were before."

Nick narrowed his eyes a little.  If he wasn't limited as to where he
could go...  "So if I *wanted* to see him..."

"You could, but if you don't want to talk to him, you could always take
a look at the security monitor in the infirmary instead."

While the suggestion was tempting, Nick shook his head.  He really
wanted nothing to do with his sire.

"Or you could go to Daniel's lab and work, or stay here, or--"

"Or that's about it," Nick finished.  He hadn't really ever done much
else.

"My point is, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to.  I know
you've--"

"You've been watching me," he said, anger unintentionally altering his
tone.

"Yes," she confirmed.  "And you've been pacing and not sleeping
well...which is completely understandable, but I just want to make sure
you know you can leave your room.  Even if you don't want to go anywhere
in particular, you can always walk around the base."

"But I'll have guards following me."

Fraiser nodded.  "Yes, you'll likely have a guard following you."  When
he didn't respond, she excused herself, "Well, I'll see you in the
morning, unless you need anything."

Nick looked up at the mortal just before she turned to leave.  He didn't
say anything, instead staying where he lay until she left.  Then he once
more sat up, but held back from standing and pacing.

He had to admit that the idea of walking the halls of the base sounded
better than pacing in his room.  While his room wasn't tiny, it wasn't
really big enough to walk more than half a dozen steps or so before he
had to turn around.  The halls he could make go on and on...if he
wouldn't be followed.  He had a feeling that hearing footsteps and at
least one heartbeat behind him, would distract him to the point he'd
soon return to his room, however.

Rather than pace, he first tried to lie down and rest, even sleep, if he
could manage it.  He couldn't.  He hadn't slept since right after his
return to the SGC, and that sleep--despite how much he had gotten--had
been far from restful.  He eventually gave up and decided to do the next
best thing--try to bury his thoughts with some work.

He left his room and headed to Dr. Jackson's workroom.  The door was
open, light on, but Daniel wasn't there.

Nick easily found what he had last been working on, but after actually
sitting down, he could do little more than stare at it.  The language
reminded him of his short time off-world, but there in Daniel's lab, he
felt LaCroix' presence so much more strongly.  It didn't help that
Daniel hadn't yet returned; it felt wrong to be in there without his
knowledge.  Moreover, it felt wrong to take what he was working on from
the room, even though that was what he planned to do.

He waited and tried to work for a little over an hour before giving up.
He gathered up the papers he was working on and left.  He had forgotten
about his shadow until he entered the hall and momentarily met the
guard's eyes before heading back toward his quarters with something to
do other than pace--not that he thought he'd manage to do any actual
work.

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

Nick didn't think he had been doing any better back in his room until he
felt Dr. Fraiser wake him up that morning.  He had fallen asleep on his
bed, the project from Daniel's lab spread out in front of him.  The
doctor had seemed pleased, even a bit amused.  All he had felt was
awkward as he sat up and moved the papers out of her way so she could
give him blood, his meal that he was thankful he didn't have to drink.

"You look much better," she said, finishing with her task.

He indeed felt better, but knew that was simply from the newly infused
blood.  He had healed and, now that he was stronger, he could more
easily dispel the lingering images from his dreams.  What had happened
on the planet made even more sense to him now, too.  The blood didn't
help him shut out his sire's very real presence, though.  "Has he done
anything?"

"Assuming you mean LaCroix, no, he hasn't."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing more than what he's done ever since he woke in that room."

"Which is...what...exactly?"

"Pacing, mostly--sometimes, anyway.  Before you returned, he spent most
of his time sleeping...or feigning sleep...which is likely what he's
currently doing."

Nick tried not to look at Fraiser, not wanting her to see his worry.
From what she said, LaCroix was agitated.  He didn't pace--especially
around strangers--unless he was very angry or otherwise distressed.

"You already knew that, didn't you?"

"No," he automatically replied, but guessing she would realise it was a
lie or she possibly knew otherwise already, he amended, "Or
not...specifically."

"But you can somehow sense his presence and at least some of how he
feels, correct?" Fraiser asked and watched him tense.

"You already knew that.  When he first came here, I told you--"

"Yes, but I think this is different.  Before, he'd been actively calling
you out, trying to get you to leave on your own.  But now he isn't doing
that, is he?"

Nick wasn't pleased by her perceptive guess, but confirmed, "No, he's
not trying to get me to leave."

"But he's--"

"He's not trying to hide his presence.  He wants me to know he's here."

"So you can do that?  Make it easier--or harder--for another like
yourself to find you?"

"He can; I can't.  It's something that has to be taught," he explained,
looking right at Fraiser for a moment.

She understood the unspoken implication--LaCroix had deliberately not
taught him that particular skill.

"I'm sorry for all of this."

"For what?"  She blinked, confused by the abrupt comment.

"For you and everyone on this base who now has to deal with him."

"There's no reason for you to apologise for him being here."

"He wouldn't be here if not for me."

Fraiser shifted a little, figuring it was about time to leave, but
stopped at the comment.  She was dismayed by what Nick was saying and
how he said it.  It reminded her of how despondent he had been when he
had initially been brought to the base.  Her recent interactions with
him had improved, otherwise she never would have given her
recommendation that he stay permanently, as had been recently decided.
Now she doubted that would--or could--even happen.  He was so
preoccupied with LaCroix, and she expected that unless they took the
older vampire away, Nick would eventually give in and go with him to
prevent something bad from happening.  But if that happened, Nellis
would surely take Natalie as well...perhaps even all three of them.

Natalie's presence changed things.  They had been lucky that she and
LaCroix hadn't already been taken away.  Fraiser had a bad feeling about
how Nick would react if he found out Natalie was alive, but now was in
the same situation he had been in.  She wished she knew how he'd react
to seeing her again, to finding out that she was very much alive.

"Is something wrong?" Nick asked after the mortal had sat completely
still for well over a minute, despite her hands holding the handle of
her bag as if she had been about to stand.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she forced a smile and stood.  "No, just
thinking about something.  I'll see you again later today."

Watching her turn to leave, Nick asked something he had wondered about
since before her visit, "You don't get to leave the base at night, do
you?  Because of LaCroix being here."

Fraiser wished she could tell him otherwise, but she admitted, "No, I
don't, but that's a normal part of my job.  If I'm needed, I stay here
on the base full time.  There's no need to apologise for it, because,
like I said, it's a normal part of my job."

Nick would have said more--he knew she had a daughter, had overheard
it--but suspected she'd merely repeat that it was something normal, to
be expected, and instead kept quiet while she slipped out.

A normal part of her job or not, it didn't mean it was something she
liked, nor did it mean it wasn't an inconvenience.  He should never have
let her take him off the sedative, even if he did feel much better.
LaCroix would never have found him if not for that.

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

Mid-day, Nick was startled when several quick knocks came at his door.
It wasn't time for Dr. Fraiser to give him more blood, yet by her
footsteps and heartbeat, he knew that was who had come to see him.  Once
again half-working on papers laid out around him and half-asleep, he
simply answered, "Yes," when she asked if she could come in.  When she
did, he sensed something was up by the way she
stood--uncharacteristically keeping her distance from him.  "Something
has happened."

Fraiser shook her head.  "No, nothing's happened...at least not what
you're thinking--not yet."

"Not yet?"

"I'd like for you to come with me," she carefully said.

"Why?"

"You'll just have to trust me."

Nick narrowed his eyes a little.  "What if I'd rather stay here?"

Taking a deep breath, she reluctantly told him, "Then you can stay.
But--"

He shifted and dropped his gaze.  He didn't want to be led to LaCroix,
which he feared she would do due to her phrase of 'not yet'.  She was
apprehensive about something.

"Nick, I think if you come with me, you'll see that this is more of a
good thing than a bad thing."

He glanced back up.  A good thing versus a bad thing?  He couldn't think
of *anything* good.  Perhaps watching his sire being shipped off
somewhere would be good.  His worst fear was to be taken to LaCroix,
something he couldn't--and wouldn't--risk.  "What if I come with you and
change my mind before we get there?"

"Not a problem.  It's perfectly all right to change your mind.  No one
will force you to come with me, but I really think you should."

Nick didn't like the idea of following her without knowing where she was
taking him, but if he could change his mind at any time...  He'd know
when he got close to LaCroix, so if that was where she was leading him,
he'd know and could simply turn back.  While the destination was
unknown, he didn't think any other possibility would be bad--unless she
was leading him to the end of his stay there at the SGC and having him
sent back to Nellis.  And when it came down to it, he'd rather go there
against his will than go with LaCroix.

"Will you come with me?" Fraiser asked.

"Maybe," Nick answered, then slowly, reluctantly, sat up a bit more and
moved the papers off to the end of his bed.  While he tried to do it
slowly, sitting fully up then pulling on and tying his shoes, it only
took a couple of minutes.  "And you won't tell me anything about where
we're going?"

"I'm sorry, but no."

"No," he said just when she did.  Despite feeling nervous, he stood.
He'd go with her, trust that she wasn't leading him into some trap or to
the thing he most feared.

Taking Nick standing as the sign that he would indeed be coming with
her, Fraiser gave him a subdued smile, then turned and pulled the door
open.  She left and started a few steps down the hall toward the
elevator.  After checking to see if he had followed--which he had--she
continued on.

Nick felt vaguely as if he were being marched off for execution, with
the mortal doctor in front of him and his sole guard tagging along
behind him to make sure he didn't stray.  He brushed the thought off and
tried to relax.  He couldn't quite manage it, but while he didn't quite
trust that where she was leading him he'd actually want to go, he did
trust she'd let him leave if he changed his mind.

Reaching the elevator, Fraiser watched him slowly get in.  He was
visibly nervous, which was unusual for him, from what she had seen.
She'd be nervous, too, if she were him and knew her destination and what
waited there.  Once he and the soldier assigned to him entered, she
pressed the button for level sixteen.  Nick wasn't supposed to go above
level eighteen and, as far as she knew, he had never done so.  Giving
him a quick glance, she noticed he had tensed.  He knew she was taking
him somewhere he wasn't supposed to go.

As the elevator started upward, Nick closed his eyes and focused on
pinpointing LaCroix' location.  He knew roughly where they held the
older man--level twenty-one--but they could have moved him.  While they
continued upward, he could feel himself move relatively closer to his
sire, but then the other vampire's presence ever so slightly dulled.
Fraiser wasn't taking him to talk to LaCroix.  Knowing that for sure
now, he felt surprisingly calmer even when the elevator arrived and they
got out.  He followed the mortal, but didn't fully let his guard down.
After all, he hadn't yet ruled out the possibility of being taken back
to Nellis.

Apparently reaching their destination, a room with two guards outside,
Fraiser turned to face Nick.  He had tensed again, but seemed more
apprehensive than anything else.  She got the impression that he didn't
know another vampire waited within the room, let alone the identity of
that vampire.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked, his eyes on the door to the
room--a holding cell, at his guess, by the guards positioned in the
hall.

Rather than answer, she nodded to the guard closest to the door.

Nick took an involuntary step backward, but only one.  The guard told
someone inside to stay back from the door, and he felt confused.  She
had brought him here to see someone, but...who?

Once the door opened, he froze in place, his eyes locked on the woman
inside--a woman who looked exactly like...Natalie.  "This is a trick,"
he muttered, still staring at her.  "It has to be a trick."

"It's not a trick," Fraiser countered.  "She is very real, I assure
you."

Nick was torn between storming off in disgust at what he was sure was a
deception, and approaching the woman who looked so much like Natalie.
After what felt like minutes, he finally decided upon the latter.  He
found himself first walking toward the open doorway, and then into the
room.

"Are you okay?" Natalie asked, seeing his blank expression as he
approached her.  "Nick?  It's really me.  I'm here.  And I'm real."

Even though the voice sounded like Natalie to the same degree that the
woman standing before him looked like her, he still had a hard time
believing his eyes and ears.  Once she was within his reach, he realised
there was something else about her too, and he should have noticed it
sooner.

She was standing there, frozen, not even breathing, her heart nearly
still...and she hadn't aged.  She was a vampire now.  He knew the only
way that could have happened was if LaCroix had brought her across.

Shocked and disgusted by the realisation, his urge to flee won out, and
he turned and bolted out of the room.

"Nick?!"

He ignored the plea and kept walking, past Fraiser, past all of the
guards.  He didn't know or care where he went as long as it was *away*.

"Let him go," Fraiser said when the soldier who had come with them
started after him.  "Keep track of him on the monitors.  I'll be there
in a few minutes."

The man nodded and moved off in the same direction Nick had gone, but
slower.

Seeing Natalie in her peripheral vision, almost to the doorway of her
room, Fraiser turned back and raised her hand, the other woman stopping
at the action.  "What I said goes for you, too.  I don't think forcing
him back here or going after him will make this any easier."

Natalie nearly protested, but to be honest, she agreed.

"I'll keep an eye on him.  Hopefully we can try again soon, but until
then, you need to stay here."

"Are you sure he's all right, that...that this will turn out all right?"
she asked, worrying that Nick couldn't handle this.

"Whether it does or not, we'll have to go through with it.  He just
needs some time, but I think he'll be fine.  He's not acting out of the
ordinary, considering the last few days.  After all, he had convinced
himself, knew from his own experience, that you had to be dead.  Then he
sees you for a few seconds, eventually convinces himself it was a
dream...only to find out now that it wasn't.  I'm sure you can
understand how that might be hard for him.  I just want to give him some
time."

"And how long before I'm taken from here and he has to go through all of
this again?"

Fraiser froze for a moment before slowly shaking her head.

"We both know that you can't just let me stay here.  Or LaCroix, for
that matter.  Especially him.  And he won't--"

"I don't know what's going to happen yet--to any of you."

"But those who had Nick earlier must surely know by now that LaCroix and
I are here.  And I might not know a lot about the military, but once you
get the order to have us moved--"

"We won't have much choice.  You're right.  But so far that order hasn't
come through."

"They probably want to observe him...observe *us*.  And if we stop
cooperating, we'll be taken, won't we?"

"As I said, I don't know," Fraiser answered.  She could clearly see that
Natalie didn't believe her, however, and added, "But cooperating with us
will probably help to extend your stay."

"It couldn't hurt."

"No, and it couldn't hurt Nick, either."

"Unless you're using his tendency to cooperate to take advantage of
him."

Fraiser sensed a threat underlying the words.  "I have only his best
interests in mind, Natalie."

"But you can't really tell me anything."

"I'll update you when I can.  I can't promise when that will be, but I
will do my best to keep you informed."  She took in a deep breath.
"Now, please go back inside so I can go check on him."

Natalie stared directly at the mortal for several seconds before finally
dropping her gaze, defeated.  She slowly stepped back, and in a moment
she was locked in by a soldier.

Fraiser relaxed once the door shut, but only a little.  The other woman
obviously cared for Nick very much.  It wasn't out of the question that
she might eventually try something.  She might even be the more
dangerous of their two new guests--the less obvious danger.  Fraiser had
to remind herself that even Natalie, despite not being obviously strong,
could probably take out even Teal'c if she tried.  Easily.

Turning to the guard closest to the door, she said, "Let me know if she
asks for something...or tries anything."  She then headed toward the
security room to find out where Nick had fled to.



A Trial Run - (23/32)

Later that day, after having watched Nick for a couple of hours on the
monitors, Fraiser decided to try and talk to him.  After leaving
Natalie's holding room, he had walked briskly but aimlessly through the
base.  He had initially started for his quarters, but turned around
before he reached them.  Then he had headed back in the direction he had
come, but never went back to level sixteen.  All the while he stayed
well away from LaCroix.  Eventually he had gone to Daniel's lab and
tried to work.  It was only when he had remained there for over an hour,
at times working and sometimes clearly not, that she had come to her
decision.

Arriving outside Daniel's lab, she paused just inside the room, her eyes
not on Nick but on the other man, who was also trying to work.  "Excuse
me, Daniel, but I need to talk to Nick alone," she said, her attention
switching to the vampire while she spoke.  She didn't look away from him
as Daniel slowly stopped what he was doing and left the room.

As the mortal left, Nick shifted his hands away from the translation he
had been trying to work on and to the edge of the table.  He tensed,
gripping the hard edge tightly when he heard Dr. Fraiser's footsteps
approaching behind him.

"How are you doing?" she asked, walking up alongside where he sat.  "I'm
not the only one who's worried, you know."

"I'm...confused," he whispered.  "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel,
what I'm supposed to do."

"Do you understand what happened when you first woke up after your
return here, and then a few hours ago?"

He stiffened further, but didn't answer.

"Nick?"

"Maybe," he muttered.  "I'm not sure."

"How about we talk about it?  Tell me what you remember from when you
woke up in the infirmary--I assume it's what you wouldn't tell me
before."

"Yes, and..."  He had to close his eyes to focus.  He still had a hard
time believing what he had seen could possibly be real.  "I saw Natalie.
I thought she was...she had to be a hallucination, a dream."

"But you know now that she wasn't?"

"I'm not...I'm not sure," he admitted.  He had a clearer memory of her
hovering over him in the infirmary than he did of seeing her mere hours
ago.  Even though the latter should have seemed more real to him, it
didn't.  "Seeing her again...it didn't feel real," he added.  "More like
just another dream."

"The first time wasn't a dream.  Neither was the second."

"How can I be sure?"

"I think the only way you can be sure is to see her again."

The idea frightened him.  If Natalie was real, then she was now a
vampire.  And if she was a vampire, then his sire had brought her across
and had had five years to teach her, mould her, and change her.  Five
years.

"Nick?"

"Have you talked to her?"

"A little."

"How did she...seem?"

"In what way?" Fraiser asked, narrowing her eyes.

"What she said, how she said it...anything, everything."

"She reminds me a lot of you, from what I've seen of your behaviour
since you've been here.  And she's very worried about you and wants to
know how you're doing."

"Right now I don't know how I'm doing.  I don't know how I feel," Nick
answered, turning toward her for the first time since she had come to
talk to him.

"And I think she would understand that, don't you?"

He supposed she would, but it didn't change the fact that he felt like
everything was out of his control, that his entire world had changed.
And it had.

"Do you want me to have Daniel bring her here, or would you rather
wait?"

He looked away.  Now or later?  Would he feel any different later that
night or tomorrow?

"Do you want me to leave so you can think about it?  I can come back--"

"No," he rushed at the thought of having hours to try and decide,
turning and staring almost panicked at Fraiser while trying to quickly
weigh the options.  The only difference was that he'd have to wait...and
all he could think was that waiting could actually be worse.  "Now," he
answered.  "Send her here now."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he said more firmly.

Fraiser smiled.  "Good, now wait here.  I'll be right back," she said
and enthusiastically started for the hall.  She slowed her steps after
the first few, worrying a little that Daniel had wandered off.  She'd
rather have someone else go get Natalie--or someone else stay with
Nick--than leave him alone.  Exiting into the hall, she relaxed seeing
him waiting a little way from the door.  "I have a favour to ask..." she
started, then explained, "I want you to go get Natalie, bring her here,
then find somewhere else to be for a little while."  When his lips
parted to ask a question, she quickly added, "And not ask any
questions."

Daniel faltered, froze for a second, then said, "Sorry, but there's
still one question I have to ask."

Fraiser's muscles tightened again.  She didn't want him to ask any
questions because Nick would assuredly hear both the question and
answer.

"Do you want me to do this...now?" he carefully asked.

Relaxing again, she nodded.  "Yes.  And General Hammond is aware of my
plan.  There's nothing to worry about."

When Daniel didn't immediately leave, she nodded down the hall.  She
didn't want his hesitancy to affect Nick, and she waited until he turned
and left before returning inside.  Once again crossing to where her
patient sat, waiting, she resumed her spot off to one side.  Stress
overwhelmed him again, his hands on his face like she had seen a few
times on the monitors.  "If you want to change your mind, you can."

"No.  If she's really here, then I want to see her."

"She is."

"I know you asked Daniel to find something to do...to stay away while we
talk.  Are you staying?"

"That's up to you."

"Really?  You'd leave if I asked you to?" he asked, turning to her.  He
somehow didn't think leaving two vampires together--alone except for,
say, a few guards--was a very logical thing to allow.

"Yes, I would.  You can even show her around the base a little, but not
to the control room or anything on levels twenty-seven or twenty-eight."

The doctor's words surprised him.  He hadn't really considered the two
of them being allowed to leave the room, but she didn't appear to be
joking.  She wasn't that sort of person.  "So I can show her where I've
been staying?"

"Yes."

"What about this place?" he said with a nod around the room.  "You know
she'll have questions."

"And she has already gotten some answers--a lot of them.  You can tell
her pretty much anything you want, anything you've already been told or
figured out.  There won't be anyone to censor you."

Nick didn't relax much at the thought of being able to tell Natalie all
about what he had been doing there, about Daniel's lab, and what he was
working on.  He knew she'd ask.  Unless she had changed, become more
like their master--which he still couldn't rule out.  Without him to
taunt and ridicule at every chance he got, LaCroix would undoubtedly
have focused his efforts on his newest offspring instead.  Natalie
wasn't like him; she was stronger and had stood up to LaCroix even when
she had been mortal.  Nonetheless, he couldn't help but worry she had at
some point broken.  His master was gifted at taking the broken ones and
changing them, making them his.  Making them dependent on him.  Worse
yet, he had also seen his sire torture his victims...and they always
succumbed.  Everyone always succumbed.

"Nick?  It'll be okay, you'll see."

He glanced at Fraiser again, but her assurance didn't help how he felt.
His last conversation with Natalie hadn't been exactly comfortable.  His
subsequent actions, why she was now there, even precisely how she'd
ended up as a vampire--all of those preyed on his mind as well.

Abruptly he looked down at what he had been working on.  He futilely
tried to organise the papers a little since he couldn't manage any real
work in the next few minutes.  It wouldn't even be that long before she
arrived, since he had spent so much time lost in his thoughts.  He put
the papers in a vague sort of order, what he was translating on top of
his notes and attempts, and his pencil on top of that.  Now the papers
were too neat--Natalie would probably notice that--but at least it kept
him from fiddling with anything else.

While waiting, he tensed, and just when his thoughts had started to
settle, he heard footsteps--several pairs of boots, one set lighter than
the rest.  As when Fraiser had arrived earlier, Nick kept faced away
from the door even when one of the people, Daniel by the sound of it,
headed the other way and two others continued to approach, probably
straight to the doorway.  He didn't want any temptation to flee again.

Fraiser gave Natalie--who appeared as equally nervous and panicked as
Nick--a slight smile.  She moved away from where she stood next to him,
and out of the path between them.  She gave the other woman a nod, then
watched her start forward with caution.

Natalie wasn't quite sure how she should feel or what her best course of
action would be.  She couldn't simply stand there, nor could she do what
Nick had done earlier and leave.  She felt both comfortable and
uncomfortable in the room.  Even if he hadn't been there, it reminded
her of Nick so very much, the arrangement of the furnishings, some of
the things she had seen of his vast collection of bric-a-brac, and the
overall sense of the place.  In Toronto.  She couldn't help but think he
couldn't be entirely comfortable in this room himself.

She continued forward until she stood about where Fraiser had, off to
Nick's side but slightly in front of him, so that he would see her even
if he faced straight forward.  "Nick?" she said, but he didn't move, his
eyes still faced down toward the table.  She moved a little closer and
touched his arm.  "Nick?"

At the combined touch and repetition of his name, he had little choice
but to look at her.  Again he was struck by how she had barely changed,
if at all, since he had last seen her.  Her hair was a little longer,
and perhaps she was a bit paler, but otherwise...otherwise she was
exactly the same.  Worse, she looked so vulnerable, but her touch had
also felt so real and so much like he remembered.

She tried to smile at him while he looked her over.  She knew he'd see
her worry, and she wanted to say more, but she forced herself to hold
back.  She'd let him set the pace and start any conversation...when he
was ready.

Still trying to get used to the idea of her being alive and there with
him, he turned on the stool he sat on and stood, his eyes locked on
Natalie's.  Tentatively he reached out and ever so lightly brushed her
cheek with the back of his hand, not wanting the illusion to dissipate.
But again, this felt so very real--too real to be mere illusion--and he
leaned his head down toward hers until their foreheads touched.  A
moment later, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her tight.
"You're really here," he whispered almost into her ear, not that he
needed to.

For a moment she merely relaxed in the embrace, not wanting to do or say
anything that might trigger him to run off again, but eventually she
answered, "Yes, Nick, I'm really here."

Her words didn't immediately make him pull away, but after a few
seconds, she felt his arms relax, the embrace becoming looser until his
hands slid down to her arms.  "Are you okay?" she asked again, actually
wanting an answer from him rather than some third party.  "Nick?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"*Okay* okay or as okay as you can be with--"

"The latter," Nick quickly answered.  While he wanted to ease her
concern, he couldn't bear to lie to her.  He couldn't say he was doing
great, but he supposed he wasn't doing too badly either, considering.

He glanced over to where Fraiser still hovered, now closer to the door,
and gave her a slight nod.  In seconds, they were alone.

He looked back at Natalie, whose concern for him still trumped all her
other emotions.  While he wanted to ask how she was doing with all of
this, and if she had been hurt in any way when she and LaCroix were
detained, he couldn't push away his deeper concerns and he asked, "Did
he hurt you?"

"He?  LaCroix?"

"Yes.  Did he hurt you?"

"Not physically, no."

"Not physically," he repeated.

"I think he's held back a lot because of you."

"Why?  What could I possibly do to him?  I've been--"

"Because of what you did--leaving like you did, letting yourself be
captured, and ending up...here," Natalie explained. "You just...
However much he wanted to mould me in his own image, he knew that if we
found you, and we talked, that I would tell you everything.  And he'd
lose you for good.  So...he didn't--like I said, he held back.  Point
is, I'm fine.  Yes, I've done a few things I regret, but I'm fine."

"You've killed," Nick whispered without thinking about anyone who might
be listening.

"Ah, yeah," she whispered.  "When you left...  Nick, I didn't have much
choice.  He wasn't about to take a detour so I could get bottled blood,
and if I had tried to get it on my own, he would have left me.  Who
knows if I ever would have found him again, let alone you, if that had
happened.  I didn't want to then, and I haven't since then, but yes,
I've killed."

"Nat--"

"He didn't force me to do what I did."

"But he brought you across.  He somehow managed to bring you across."

Natalie saw his anger.  "Yes, I suppose he did, but not like you're
thinking."

He let go of her arms.  "Nat--"

"I was obviously unconscious, so I only have his word on this, but he
told me he used your blood to bring me back.  He might have helped
facilitate that, but he didn't actually bring me across in the way he
did you.  I'm *yours*, Nick, not his."

Nick felt the pain of what he had done come back so sharply he couldn't
help but step away.  He was sure he had taken too much, sure he had
killed her.  If Natalie had managed to come back with what would have
surely been a pitiful amount of his blood...and after all that time he
waited...  He had nearly killed her.  Twice, in a way.  Rather than
leave, he moved further into the room.

"Nick--"

"You're upset that I didn't do it myself.  Upset I didn't do what you
wanted, what you expected."

"I'm...  Not really, not anymore," Natalie answered.  "I mean, it did
bother me a little, but, again, from what LaCroix said, he thought I was
dead at first, too.  He didn't realise until the moment he was about to,
ah..."

"Kill me."

"Yes.  He didn't follow through because he saw something or heard
something.  Anyhow, he sensed that there was a chance--a small one, yes,
but still a chance--that I might come back, and he took it.  And not for
me, not to save me, but for you.  He cares about you, Nick.  Perhaps not
the way you'd like, but he does care."

He looked back at her.  He believed she was telling him the truth, could
even sense it, perhaps, but when he'd woken disoriented in the loft,
he'd been alone except for his blood and the staff he had given to
LaCroix to stake him with.  But LaCroix was no longer there.  And there
had been absolutely no sign of Natalie.  Not a few stray drops of blood
or a fallen shoe.  Nothing.  "You weren't there when I woke up."

"Actually I was, but you just left--you probably never thought to search
the loft and make sure it was empty.  He took me upstairs so I'd be out
of sight in case I did die," she explained.  "I really don't think he
expected me to survive."

"But you did."

"Yeah.  And since then, other than hovering a little too close at times,
he's been fairly civil.  He did, however--"  She stopped speaking and
shut her eyes, but only for a moment to regain her focus.

"Nat?"

"*We*, really..."  She paused again, letting her gaze settle on Nick.
"When we tracked you here, he...ah, kidnapped a soldier from the base to
find out more about it.  He was sick with the flu, and had been sent
home because of that.  LaCroix questioned him a bit
more...intensely...than I felt comfortable with.  I think he was okay,
though, when we finally took him home--except that he was still sick, of
course--but I sedated him to help muddle his memories.  It was better
than the alternative, at least, but I don't know if we might have done
any lasting harm to him.  I don't think we did."

"He interrogated him."

"Yeah, more than once.  And I haven't..."  She closed her eyes again for
a moment, then continued, "I haven't told anyone here about it.  I
probably should have, but...  His name was Simms.  Lieutenant Gareth
Simms.  You haven't heard anything about--"

"No, but I wasn't here at the time," he admitted.  "And they don't tell
me all that much anyway."

Natalie lowered her gaze.  Nick not having heard anything didn't help
her feel any less guilty over what she had done.  "I'd like to tell
Fraiser," she said.  "She should know."

"We can tell her."

"No, *I* need to tell her," she said, looking back up.  "Or, really,
LaCroix should tell her, but I doubt he's said anything."

"I don't think he has."

"You don't think?"

"From what I understand, he's said next to nothing.  He just paces,
sleeps, and pretends to sleep.  Pretty much it."

Natalie glanced away again, but this time she started examining the room
and its contents.  "You probably like it in here, surrounded by all
these books and old artefacts..."

"Most of the time.  It's...it's something I've done before, although
it's been a while.  Rather...nostalgic, I guess."  Nodding at his
surroundings, he added, "And all of this is quite new--not the items
themselves, of course, but the subject matter is new to me.  It's all
so...alien...so strange.  It took me a while to get used to it."  He
found himself smiling a little, having relaxed a bit from talking to
Natalie, but he didn't want to stay there in Daniel's lab.  "Come on,
let's go tell Fraiser."

"Nick...I'm not sure they'll allow--"

"Yes, they will.  According to what she told me, I can pretty much give
you the full tour, the majority of it anyway.  There isn't really all
that much to see.  It's a rather small base and there aren't that many
places they'll let me go.  I've spent most of my time here, in the
infirmary, or in my room.  So come on," he said again, this time
reaching for her hand.  He managed to take it, but she pulled back,
reluctant.  "They're good people, Nat.  And Dr. Fraiser is a lot like
you.  She'll understand."

"But will everyone else?  This is a military base, after all."

"I know."

"And we came very close to torturing a soldier."

"And he'll be fine.  If he wasn't--"

"You might not have heard about it," she reminded him.

Nick didn't want to argue, so rather than speak, he gently tugged on her
hand and started backing toward the door.  "We'll find Fraiser, then
I'll show you my room, all right?"

She hesitated, keeping her arm tense even while he pulled her vaguely
toward the door.  While she felt a bit afraid and he seemed a little too
enthusiastic to reveal what she and LaCroix had done, she trusted him
and felt that he was right that the people here were good people.  But
she had no idea what Fraiser would have to do or report about the
situation.  Or how that would affect her stay.

"Nat?  Please, we can talk some more in my room," he said, moving
slightly forward so that her arm slacked a little.  She didn't pull back
from him, and after a moment, she took a step forward.

"Okay," she said, but rather than resume pulling her toward the hall,
Nick moved off to the side and dropped his hand away from hers.  "Ah,
you'll have to take me.  I don't know where she'll be, and I sure don't
know where your room is."

"She's probably in the infirmary, and level twenty-five."

"Level twenty-five?"

"My room."

"I had kind of guessed that, but why so far down?"

"It's near the other personal quarters.  I don't know what they told
you, but my cover story, or the main part of it, is that I'm a
researcher working out of Nellis.  I've been staying on base because I'm
more on loan than permanently transferred," he explained.

When Natalie didn't say anything, he again took her hand and started to
lead her out into the hall.  This time she didn't hang back, and they
exited the room and walked past the guards--of which there were now two.
Natalie glanced at the two soldiers as they started down the hall.  She
wasn't used to being followed.  "It's all right.  As long as we don't do
anything unexpected, all they'll do is follow."  He felt her fingers
relax a little in his, and he smiled again.

Natalie wanted to smile back, but couldn't quite manage it.  She felt
nervous about talking to Fraiser, telling her something that she could
have--and should have--told her long before now.



A Trial Run - (24/32)

"So, this is your room," Natalie asked once they had reached their
destination on level twenty-five.  She didn't think the halls were very
different than those of the few other levels she'd seen, but Nick's room
definitely was.  A bed was shoved up against one wall--a nice bed
instead of something more resembling a cot, which she half-expected--in
addition to a small table, desk, chair, and even a private bathroom.
The latter looked small, but the room as a whole had to be at least
twice the size of her own room, and had a decent amount of open space.
It felt like a small studio apartment--minus the kitchen and windows.
On the bed were more papers, neatly stacked, much like she had seen in
front of him in the office.

Nick tensed a little when Natalie walked over to the bed, her gaze on
what he'd been working on.  He felt odd sharing that with anyone, even
her.  She sat and picked up the whole stack to examine it.  Her
expression gradually evolved from curious to puzzled when she tried to
read it.  The Goa'uld text obviously didn't--and wouldn't--make any
sense to her.

"So is this some of what you've been working on?"

"Yeah.  Or trying to."

"Trying to?"

"Sometimes I can't focus for very long."

"LaCroix," Natalie guessed.

"Yes.  Since he arrived...  I've been sleeping at night, so--"

"So his mental prodding to try and get you to leave--"

"Woke me up and kept me awake," he confirmed.  "Yeah."

"And then since seeing me, you probably haven't slept well, either," she
guessed.

"No, not really."

Natalie looked around the room again and decided she rather liked it.
She had gotten used to unadorned cement from Nick's loft, and like the
loft, the lighting in the room was fairly dim.  "This is actually pretty
nice.  I mean, space is probably pretty limited since it's underground,
yet the furniture isn't super utilitarian or obviously military like I'd
expect."

"I'm still getting used to it," he admitted with an awkward smile.  He
approached and sat on the bed next to her.  "Before I came here,
my...room...was a lot different."

"At Nellis," she guessed.

"Yes.  It...it was substantially smaller.  I had more of a cot than a
bed, and a simple desk.  That was it.  Everything was plastic or metal.
They were very careful not to give me any wood.  The walls were white,
the floor was white...  After dealing with that for so long, it took a
while after they brought me here to become accustomed to the new, less
clinical setting."

Natalie tensed at his description.  She hadn't really thought about that
much until now, but it made perfect sense.  "Clinical.  You were the
subject of their research, their lab rat," she breathed.

"Yes, or I assume so.  They didn't really do anything to me, at least
not while I was conscious.  But my surroundings alone told me I was
little more than some test subject for them to study."

Natalie's eyes went wide as she came to an awful conclusion.  "You
weren't the first vampire they had held."

"No, I don't think so," he said, his gaze drifting to the floor.  "They
knew how to...keep me, how to control me right from the start, even
though I mostly cooperated with them."

Natalie tensed at his mention of having cooperated with them.  From what
she had heard, he hadn't done that, not fully or consistently, for all
of the time since he had fled Toronto.  While at Nellis, he had in fact,
from what Fraiser had told her, tried to kill himself, or at the very
least to forget who he was and what he had done.  "Did you?" she
carefully started, wanting to see if he would admit it.  "I mean you
wanted to die, were ready to die when...  And when you left, you weren't
exactly in the best place mentally, I don't think, so..."

"No, I wasn't," Nick admitted with a deep sigh.  "I don't even remember
most of it.  I just wanted to get away.  I tried...  When I first left
the loft, I thought that if I kept going, I'd manage to walk into the
sunlight somewhere, and for the first and last time I'd be able to
just...do it.  But, obviously, that didn't work."

"So you just kept on going."

He nodded.  "I knew once I hit the coast there'd be nowhere for me to
hide, nowhere for me to take shelter from the sun."

"So that was your plan then, to make it to the coast?"

"Sort of."

"But..."

"But I felt LaCroix closing in on me and I knew I was weakening, and I
couldn't make it to the coast, to the Pacific.  I hadn't had any blood
since I'd taken yours and...I suppose my motives changed by then, too.
I didn't want him to try and convince me of the error of my ways, to
convince me that killing you had been a good thing or the right thing.
I didn't want to see him at all, let alone have him hovering over me,
controlling my every action and thought..."

Now Natalie understood why Nick had made his way to the Air Force base.
It wasn't to try and get himself killed, but captured.  He had wanted to
be stashed away, as secure as possible from LaCroix' reach.  And that
had been exactly the case...until very recently.

"While I wasn't thinking clearly, I knew that once they realised what I
was, they would keep me.  If that base hadn't been there, hadn't been
nearby..."  Nick trailed off and closed his eyes.  What he had feared
would happen then now sounded foolish.  "If the base hadn't been there,
you would have found me," he whispered.  "You would have caught up to
me, talked some sense into me, and then none of this would have..."  He
turned toward Natalie.  "How long did you search for me?"

"Ah...only a few weeks when it came to spending all my time on it, and
that mostly consisted of trying to keep up with LaCroix."

"But you didn't simply...start over, did you?"

"It took me a while before I picked somewhere to live, somewhere to
work.  I didn't really want to, but I knew if I wanted to give you any
chance to find us, find me, I'd have to stay somewhere."

"Which was?"

"Chicago.  I worked at the hospital there...Chicago University
Hospital."

Nick's forehead scrunched up a bit, wondering how he had overlooked her
with his search.  It sounds like his search should have worked.

"Nick?"

"I...I looked there for you--on the computer, anyway."

Now it was her turn to be puzzled.  "You mean you did a computer search?
But how?  I didn't think you had any access..."

He shook his head.  "I didn't.  But there was one day when Dr. Jackson
didn't lock his computer in his lab.  I knew it could be a trap--and I
think it was--but I searched for you, wanting to confirm what I thought,
what I knew.  But all that came up were the articles about your
disappearance...our disappearance.  You didn't even go back to quit?"

"Ah, no, I didn't.  LaCroix discouraged me from doing that.  We did go
back, though, and carefully cleared out our--yours and my--apartments."

Nick still didn't understand why he hadn't found her on the computer.
"I had also searched...university faculty members.  Were you teaching
or--"

"Yeah, a little.  I changed my name, though.  Worse, whoever set up my
identity used 'Natalia' rather than 'Natalie' for my first name.
Natalia de Brabant.  I figured you'd still be able to find me, though,
that it'd make sense for you if you searched."

He struggled to recall whether he had used that particular combination,
that variant, but he had been rushed.

"Nick?"

"When I didn't get any results, it only confirmed what I knew, what I
believed."

"That I was dead," she said aloud.

"Yes.  And even though I've had the opportunity to search again--many
times--I haven't even considered it.  I guess I'd given up hope."

"It's not your fault."

"It feels like it is."

"Well, it's not.  As I said, *both* of you had assumed I was dead.  Even
LaCroix thought I was most likely past saving, so there's no need to
think any of this is your fault."

"Whether I killed you or nearly killed you, it was because of that--"

"But don't forget that I'm the one who pushed you into it in the first
place, so if one of us was to blame, it was me, Nick.  Me, not you."
Natalie closed her eyes, feeling her emotions start to well up.  "I
wasn't thinking straight, and I'm sorry I put you in that position.  I
should have just come over, told you the bad news, then, rather than
trying to push our relationship forward...I should have--"  She tried to
stand, but when he wrapped one hand around her back and the other
gripped her arm, she cut her thought short and turned to look at him.

He saw her sadness--and his own reflected back at him in her eyes--and
told her, "What you said that night...it needed to be said, and you
probably knew the moment you found out Tracy had died that I would
leave.  And I would have.  LaCroix was leaving that night, and he hoped
I'd come with him.  And I would have, Nat.  You knew something had to
change.  I don't blame you for wanting to secure our relationship so you
wouldn't be left behind."

"Even though I used what I knew about you, about how you thought things
through, to manipulate you into doing what *I* wanted more than *you*
wanted?"

"I don't think you manipulated me into doing anything I didn't already
want to do, Nat," he whispered, his eyes locked on hers as he spoke.
"Maybe neither of us is to blame for what happened.  What happened that
night...it took a toll on both of us.  Neither of us can deny that."

She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed lightly.  "Yeah, but at least
I knew--or had hope--that you were still alive.  But you...  All this
time you thought you had killed me and...I know you, Nick.  You don't
let go of things like that."  She paused, trying to pull away from him a
little, but he stopped her, turning his hand and catching her hand.
"You never answered me when I asked earlier if you had really cooperated
with them, or if you might have...tried something."

"I'll admit that I thought about it, but I couldn't do anything, not
really.  They kept a very close eye on me, especially at first."

"But?"

"But I wanted to forget, so I took a chance.  And it worked...for a
little while."

"You shot yourself in the head," she said, knowing that was exactly what
he had done.

"Yes.  I don't remember everything from right before I did it, but
either I missed or...something.  It took time, but all my memories
returned.  Some I never lost.  I don't know...my memories might have
come back on their own before, too."

He shook his head a little after a moment, not wanting to think about
what had happened.  "Let's talk about something else, please," he said,
then shifted, pushing himself back until his back was against the wall.
He tried easing Natalie back with him, but she resisted more this time.

"Nick..."

"Or we can just sit here.  We don't have to talk about anything," he
said and tried to pull her back again.

Reluctantly Natalie scooted back so that she leaned back half against
the wall and half against Nick.  She didn't think she could just sit,
not right now.  Their trip to the infirmary had been quiet.  They hadn't
spoken much at all on the way here.  While they had talked a little
about what had happened--in Toronto--it was something that still
bothered them both.  Nick had also said more about his feelings after,
but she hadn't.  What nagged at her thoughts the most, however, was
their short conversation with Dr. Fraiser.  "Nick?"

"Hmm?"

Her lips parted, but she froze at the casual response...his oh-so-normal
response.  "Ah, what do you think will happen when Fraiser tells General
Hammond about what we did to that soldier?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"From what you've said, you didn't do anything wrong.  Nor did LaCroix,
for that matter."

"Except for taking him in the first place."

"Which was a logical thing to do," Nick countered.  "But you didn't
physically harm him.  You questioned him, then took him home.  I'm sure
they'll understand the motives behind your actions."

"But what if something's wrong?  What if he had some reaction to what I
gave him and never woke up?"

"Nat, I'm sure it'll be fine.  He's probably been back to work already
with nothing more than a few fever-induced dreams."

"But if he isn't, they'll probably put me who-knows-where."

Nick tensed.  While he didn't think General Hammond would do that, he
knew it was a risk.  And Hammond might not be the one to decide what to
do with them.  He didn't think they'd blame Natalie for what happened,
however.  LaCroix had done that.  But if someone else was making the
decisions...  "You should leave," he said.  "Not because of what you
told Fraiser, but because I don't know what they'll do.  I don't want
them to keep you."

"Nick..."

"They'll never let me go, Nat.  But as long as we're here, you're here,
I don't think they'll stop you if you try to leave.  The same with
LaCroix.  He won't be able to handle this for long.  You should both go.
If I ever get to leave...we can agree on some way to contact one
another."

"I have no intention of leaving you.  And if they take me, I'm not going
to--"

"If they take you, don't fight them.  And if you think they might, I
want you to leave before that happens."

"Nick..." she whined again.  Even though she understood why he'd want
her to leave, after all this time trying to find him, she wasn't about
to abandon him.

"They might not, and like I said, from what you told Fraiser, I don't
think you did anything wrong.  But if it's something you're afraid
of..."

"I'm just worried.  And what we did...it felt wrong to me."

"But you didn't do anything.  You didn't even question him."

"But I watched.  And you're right, I *didn't* do anything.  Worse, I
wanted to question him myself, to make sure LaCroix didn't miss
something.  I didn't, but...to me that's almost as bad.  And then I did
sedate him.  I could have refused, or even pretended that I had given
him something to make him sleep."

"But you didn't, Nat...and I know how hard it can be to resist doing
something like that.  You were probably running on instinct."

"I think I still am," she muttered.

"And if they try to take you, that instinct will only get stronger."

"And I still have no intention of leaving you here."  To distract
herself from Nick's reminder that this could be temporary--very
temporary at that--she picked up the notes she had only given a quick
glance earlier.  He seemed to be in the mood to talk to her--in
general--and she had many more questions.  "So...what is this, anyway?
Beyond, I assume, something you're translating?"

"It's something along the lines of a ship's log," he fumbled.

"A ship's log?"

"Things like where the ship is, why they're there.  Every now and then,
there are other comments."

"By 'ship'...you mean like...a space ship?" she asked, twisting toward
Nick a little to see his reaction.  He smiled a little.  "So there
really are aliens out there who are capable of interstellar travel?"

"Yeah."

"Independent of this...stargate?"

Nick's smile drooped a little, but he nodded.  "Yeah."

"And these aliens that did all of this..."  She held up the papers.
"What are they like?"

"They're parasites--literally and figuratively.  They've scavenged
technology--mainly the stargates--and either took the names and
identities of old Earth gods and goddesses, or they might have been the
basis for those gods.  They also took humans from Earth and turned them
into slaves."

"They took--"

"Thousands of years ago.  Humans live all over the galaxy now, taken
there as slaves to the Goa'uld," he better explained, nearly smiling.
"The stargates themselves were made by another race, a long-dead race.
Much of their other technology, though, I think, is their own, or at
least heavily modified."

"So they're like...ah..." Natalie started, not sure how to describe what
she had seen.  She had wanted to ask, but now that she had the chance,
she wasn't sure what to say.  "When they brought you back, Fraiser had
me come to the infirmary to help.  I saw...I guess...the alien that
had--"

"Yes, that...creature...is like them--physically, at least.  But the one
you saw...she is from a group that has sort of branched from the others.
They don't agree with what they do or how they treat their hosts."

"I'm sorry, Nick, but I don't really understand..."

"The one that was in me, they don't--or at least rarely--take hosts
against their will.  When they do, they will leave if and when they can.
The others like them, the Tok'ra, they have the means to remove a
symbiote from the host without killing the host, but they'll even
sacrifice themselves so that the host will live.  When they are blended,
as they call it, they allow the host to speak and act independently.
For them, it's more like two people sharing the same body, and the host
gets a longer life and better health.  It's more of a...partnership.
With the others, the Goa'uld, while physically the same, when *they*
take a host, they completely take over that person's body, their
actions, and their mind.  The host has no input as to what they do or
say.  What's worse, they're aware of everything the creature forces them
to do."

"That's..."

"It's worse than being a vampire.  Far worse.  At least when we change,
yes, there are extra temptations, but we still have free will.  Our
lives are still our own to shape.  We can choose."

"And these aliens--the Gould, or however you said that--they're not
good?"

"No.  And they don't like the fact that Earth has advanced so much since
they left."

"But how--"

"The Egyptians buried the Earth stargate about...five thousand years
ago.  It was rediscovered earlier this century.  They only figured out
how to work it a few years ago, though.  In the meantime, Earth was
apparently semi-forgotten, so the aliens left us alone.  That, and then
I think we're under some sort of treaty with another race."

"Another...  How many different alien races--"

"A few...not a lot, but it's mainly this one, the Goa'uld, that is the
most dominant and wants to keep it that way."

"And you've actually met--"

Nick shook his head and answered, "Beyond my little...vacation of sorts,
the only other alien I've met is Teal'c.  You've probably seen him,
too."

Natalie had to think a little before it hit her.  "He's the one with the
gold--"

"The raised tattoo, yeah.  He's a Jaffa."

"And your 'vacation'... I think I heard them phrase it as being
'off-world'," she started, having heard very little about that.  "What
was that about, actually?"

"Not a vacation.  Definitely not a vacation."

"Hmm, figured that.  You vanished pretty much right before we tried to
come in to get you.  And believe me, LaCroix wasn't very happy when he
realised you were gone."

"I'll bet.  But that was why I left, why they sent me through the
gate--so he'd know I wasn't there, and so he'd have no reason to come
into the base.  He was supposed to leave."

"But it didn't work.  He--we--still came.  He wanted to know what had
happened to you, what they had done and why he couldn't sense you
anymore.  He questioned that man one more time because of it."  Natalie
paused and she could feel Nick stiffen a little.  He probably thought it
was his fault.  "So..."

"When I realised LaCroix was actually there, trying to get me to escape
and make my way out to him, I asked General Hammond to have me sedated
and sent back to Nellis instead," Nick admitted.

"But they didn't."

"No.  I think someone figured he'd just come for me there, or try to
rescue me en route.  Either way, he'd get to me, and innocent people
might be killed.  So someone came up with the idea of sending me
off-world--through the stargate to another planet--and I agreed to go.
Moreover, to keep my location unknown, I stayed behind after those who
left with me returned.  And then when they went to hide me away, they
asked if I'd be willing to--you could say--go undercover."

"And you accepted, of course," she said and watched Nick nod, his lips
nearly twisting into another smile.  Nearly.  "So...what was the
assignment?"

"I was placed as a human slave to a Tok'ra who was posing as a Goa'uld."

"You were a--"

"They explained it was more like being a servant, at least in this
situation, so I agreed.  After I did, they tested me on how well I could
speak the language.  Supposedly I did fine, but I don't know if it was
really good enough.  At first they tried to stick me in the kitchen."

"I bet that went over great," she said, not bothering to suppress a
grin.

"If burnt food counts.  As you can probably guess, that didn't last.
The Tok'ra--again, she was posing as a Goa'uld, had been for some
time--then had me assigned as one of her personal...attendants, I
suppose you could say.  She deemed my Goa'uld proficient enough for the
higher profile position.  And then, more or less out of the blue, they
were attacked.  I think--others--one of the--  It's hard to explain.
I'm not even sure I really understand it all."

"But?"

"A group of Jaffa arrived and I'm pretty sure they killed everyone in
the complex.  I don't know if they knew she was an impostor or not, or
if I somehow tipped someone off without meaning..."

"Considering how good you are with languages, I doubt it was the
latter."

"I'm far from perfect when it comes to languages, Nat, and this is a
language I've only actually spoken for a few months.  I had never heard
it spoken, much less spoken it myself, before coming here.  So what
happened very well could have been my fault, and I'll never know for
sure.  She didn't think they knew she was a Tok'ra, though.
Merely...unneeded.  But they did kill me, the only human--assumed
human--in her presence, to ensure she wouldn't survive.  They might have
known or suspected.  She was communicating, arguing with another--and
I'm sure I said something at some point while attending her during one
of those communications.  I could have gotten a pronunciation wrong or
something."

"Nick..."

"It's fine.  I have to accept it."

"As having happened, yes--as in what you experienced--but you don't
*have* to accept any blame for it.  It sounds like you were sent into a
very dangerous situation."

"It was.  They warned me it could be dangerous."

"Hmm, and you still think whatever happened might be your fault?"

"I don't know...and like I said, I'll never know."

"About why they came in and killed everyone?" Natalie asked and got a
nod.  "All right, but...if they killed everyone...  I mean, how..."

"How did I end up as her host?"

"Yeah.  You said they made sure they killed you--made sure of it, or at
least--"

"They thought they had.  But they didn't take the same measures with
her, not while she was in her original host.  And I...I recovered from
what they did to me."

"And?"

"And she could not."

"Which means?"

Nick let his gaze settle fully on Natalie's worried features, then he
looked away before explaining, "She waited as long as she could, but she
couldn't heal her host's injuries.  Which is a whole other--  Her host
was about to die, so she...she went into me, even knowing what I was.
She thought we'd be able to make it to the stargate, that we'd be able
to escape, but the attempted blending disabled us both.  I'm not sure
how long it was before we were found.  Much longer, and she would have
died."

"So she--did she ask, or--"

"No, not in words--she couldn't--but it was my choice to try to keep her
alive."

"Is she?  Alive, that is?"

"Yes.  Although she's weak.  She won't be able to take a host again
right away."

"And they didn't tell you anything when they came to get you, when
they--those from here at the base--found you?"

Nick shook his head.  "No, or I don't think they did.  Parts of that are
still a bit of a blur, but I think they mainly just found me and brought
me back here.  It was--I remember the sky getting lighter before coming
back through the gate.  The sun was coming up, so there wasn't time to
tell me anything.  They realised what had happened, that the Tok'ra was
inside me."

"If things had gone differently...if nothing had happened and, say,
someone had contacted you, told you LaCroix was here, and then given you
the choice to come back...would you have come back to Earth?"

"No," he answered.  "Not if it was just LaCroix."

"But if you knew I was here?"

Nick tensed.  Would he have come back?  "If someone had merely told me
you were here, but offered no proof...I don't know if I would have
believed it.  I might have thought it was some sort of trap, that
LaCroix had gotten to someone.  I'm...I'm still having trouble grasping
the idea that you're alive and you're here now--and that's with you
right next to me.  It still doesn't quite feel real to me."

"So you're saying..."

"No, I don't think I would have returned.  They would have had to bring
you to me or me to you."  His expression darkened at the only reason he
had actually considered coming back.  "But if they had told me that
LaCroix had hurt someone, killed someone, then I would have come back.
I would have come back and left with him.  I still might have to.  I'm
both surprised...and not...that he hasn't done anything."

Natalie felt confused at that.  She herself was waiting for LaCroix to
do something.  She knew he would...eventually.  "Why *aren't* you
surprised?"

"Because he has more than just guards to stop him.  There's a force
field blocking the primary entrance to where they're keeping him."

"A force field?  Really?  Like in some sci-fi TV show?"

Nick grinned slightly as he nodded.  "Yeah.  Really.  Force-fields and
space ships and aliens.  Anyway, if he hasn't already tried to
escape--which I don't think he has--then either he knows he won't stand
a chance, or else he's biding his time.  He's smart, Nat.  While waiting
patiently is not his preference, he *is* very good at it."

"But he's been waiting more than the few days we've been in here, or
even since we arrived."

"He's been waiting five years--more than five years," Nick said aloud,
feeling a little nervous at the reminder.  It only reinforced his fear
that he might have to leave.  He might have to help Natalie and LaCroix
get out of the facility if they wouldn't leave on their own.  He didn't
even know if that was even possible, but he knew the three of them would
have a better chance together than Natalie and LaCroix would on their
own.  He also had no idea what his sire might have taught her.  Had he
merely taught her how to use what she was?  Had she learned how to fight
if she had to?

"It'll be fine, Nick.  He's been...ah, about as okay to be around as I
suppose he ever can be," she said and leaned into his side a little
more.

Wanting to change the subject yet again, and cover as much ground as
possible, since he didn't know how long they'd be allowed to visit, Nick
commented, "I guess he followed you when he couldn't find me."

"Once we gave up on trying to decide if you were where we thought you
were, and if it was worth the risk of all of us getting caught...yeah.
He followed me to Chicago.  At first he was a damn pain.  I'd walk
around a corner at work or my apartment and he'd be right there.  Even
worse, he somehow managed to rent the apartment right next to mine."

"How long before you found out?"

"Not long--he told me when he did it, actually.  And, believe it or not,
he wasn't the worst neighbour I've ever had, although it made it *way*
too convenient for him to visit, that's for sure."

"Did you just drop everything and leave when you came here?"

"Ah, yes and no.  I did formally quit my job before coming, but our
apartments are still there.  I also made sure both our rents were paid
for the following month, but beyond that...I'm sure there won't be any
problems."

"Does LaCroix...  Did he want you to convince me to leave if you could?"

"Ah, he always said 'we' rather than directing it at me, but yeah, that
was the goal, the plan.  So...will you?"

He sighed deeply before answering, "I don't know."  Then, in a whisper,
he added, "I don't want to go back to him, Nat.  However badly I've been
treated at times--and all of that was before I came here--it was better
than his constant manipulation.  And I do actually like it here.  I like
the work and, as I said, they're good people.  Good, friendly people who
accept me, despite what I am.  But never in my wildest dreams did I
expect you to be here or even be alive..."

"So you need some time to think about it," she guessed.

"Yes."  And, deep down, Nick knew he'd also eventually have to talk to
LaCroix.  He'd have to try to convince his sire to leave--with Natalie.
If he wouldn't...



A Trial Run - (25/32)

Dr. Fraiser's arrival that evening startled Natalie, but not Nick.  He
had been checking the time often enough to expect her.  As he had
earlier that day, rather than get up to let her in, he simply told her
to come in.

Natalie shifted a little away from where she had sat almost balled up
next to Nick and sat up straighter when the door opened.  Seeing the
doctor's medical bag, she knew what time it must be--dinner time.  Being
with Nick, she had relaxed and hadn't even thought about blood or the
time.

"How are you two doing?" Fraiser asked once she had shut the door.

"Fine," Nick said.

The doctor didn't quite believe him.  For one, it seemed to be his
staple reply--whether it was true or not--and for another, he had
answered a little too quickly.  "Natalie?"

"Fine, I guess," she said as well, shifting again.  "Ah, can I stay
here, or do you have to take me back?"

"You can stay here, unless you'd prefer not to."

"No, I just wasn't sure if it was all right for me to stay."

"Then you can stay if Nick is all right with it, and I don't think that
will be a problem."

Natalie, however, wasn't so sure.  He had, after all, told her he wanted
her to leave if she could, while she could.  Not staying there with him
would put her closer to the surface--and make any escape easier.
"Nick?"

"Yeah, I'm all right with it," he said, this time smiling a little.

Natalie relaxed seeing his familiar half-smile.  "Well, if I'm staying,
I'm taking these boots off," she said and scooted up to the side of the
bed.  Rather than take her shoes off there, however, she stood and
crossed to the lone chair and sat there to take them off.

Nick glanced at Fraiser, who set her bag next to the alarm clock as
usual, then took the chance to do the same as Natalie and removed his
shoes.  Before their guest arrived, they had simply sat there silently
for some time after being too worn out to really talk any longer.  And
now that they knew Natalie was staying, they might as well settle in a
little.  There would be nowhere they'd want or need to go overnight
since Fraiser had come with their meals--which he now worried about.

He hadn't said anything to Natalie about how he had been 'feeding', or
that he actually felt ill whenever he tasted any blood--not that he had
for several days.  First he watched the mortal doctor pull out a bag of
blood--same size he usually got--and a clear plastic cup.  He could see
Fraiser's hesitation.  She knew he was worried.  He ever so slightly
shook his head when she looked at him.  He didn't want to risk trying to
drink any blood right now.  While he felt better, stronger, he didn't
know if that meant anything when it came to how his stomach would react.

He watched her take the items over to Natalie, then he tensed when she
returned and pulled out another bag of blood...along with gloves and
items Natalie would readily recognise.

Natalie had just emptied the blood into the cup when she saw the IV
line...and froze.  When she turned toward Nick, he looked away.  Without
a word of explanation, he lay down.  She didn't say anything while
Fraiser administered his blood intravenously, nor did she drink her own
ration.  She simply sat there and watched.  Nick kept his face turned
away from her--or the blood--she wasn't sure which.  She wondered if
this was his choice or if it was a condition of him staying.  The doctor
seemed to sense her worry and, once she had finished with Nick, took the
empty blood bag from her and left after only a short goodbye.

Nick remained on his back, his gaze more toward the wall than the
ceiling.  Once the door shut, he heard light footsteps approaching him.

"Nick?  You all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Can I ask why she gave you the blood that way?"

"It's...just how it's been done...for years now.  I really don't mind.
I've even gotten used to not tasting it."

"You probably even like that."

"A bit."

"I have a feeling they don't know about your usual choice of...source?"

"No, they don't, but if they had really dug into my past, they'd know.
It's been discovered, even publicised, more than once.  It's not exactly
a secret."

"But you haven't actually told anyone?"

"No, I haven't explicitly told anyone," he confirmed.  "They wouldn't
understand."

"Like I didn't understand?"

He started to counter her rather blunt--and almost
angry-sounding--question, but hesitated.

"They might actually understand you better if you told them.  I thought
you said they were good people.  If so, they'd listen.  Fraiser might
even switch out what she's giving you."

"It doesn't matter now."

"Nick..."

"It doesn't.  I'm sorry, Nat, but it's too late."

Natalie had begun to really dislike some of the things Nick was saying,
even if the old Nick she had known would have said them, too.  It didn't
help that he was acting so rational.  No, he was acting resigned.

She sat on the edge of the bed next to him, close to where Fraiser had
sat to give him the blood.  Nick didn't pull away from her or shift
position, so she stayed there while she drank her now rather
dull-tasting blood.  It wasn't the blood itself that lacked flavour, but
the fact that her thoughts and mood that distracted her from any flavour
it might have had.  Halfway through with it, she downed the rest,
wanting it gone as soon as possible.  In case the scent bothered
Nick--he didn't even acknowledge it, which she thought was odd--she went
to the bathroom, quickly rinsed her cup, then wrapped it in an extra
trash bag she found before tossing it in the trash.

Heading back to where Nick lay, she found him lying the same way he had
been, on his back, his head turned toward the wall.  He looked tired.
"So...when do you usually sleep--more specifically than just 'at
night'?"

Nick smiled.  "You remembered that."

"Of course I remember you mentioning it.  But, I mean, do you stay up a
while, or do you get up early?  Or both...or neither?"

"The first.  I think you know I do the first."

"I didn't know if you still would.  I mean, your schedule isn't exactly
your own right now."

"Actually, I pretty much get to do anything I want."

"Not anything you want, Nick."

"As far as my sleep schedule and my work schedule goes, I do--and I can
work either here or in Dr. Jackson's office."

"And is that the extent of where you're allowed to go?"

"It's...not the full extent, but I usually don't go elsewhere unless I'm
invited, and level eighteen is strictly the highest I'm supposed to go."

"So you'd never been up to where I was being held?"

"No, I hadn't."

"So...where else have you been?" Natalie asked teasingly, touching his
arm, which got him to finally look at her.  "Hmm?"

"A few of the other labs.  And when I was practising Goa'uld, I usually
went to Teal'c's quarters--they're on this level.  From what I've heard,
he stays on base."

"But he gets to leave?"

"Yeah.  Only with others, though."

"But you don't."

"No.  Except for the one time I went through the stargate."

"Now, about that...what exactly is it like, and how does it work?"

"It's...a vertical ring, empty in the middle.  When it connects to
another gate, there's...  I've heard it referred to as a puddle, and
that's probably the best description.  It looks somewhat like water.
You walk into it...and then step out onto whatever planet or moon or
whatever the connecting stargate is on."

"So it creates a wormhole somehow?"

"Yeah, I guess--or something like it.  I don't really understand the
physics behind it, not everything."

"Let me guess...you only care if it's going to work or not," she guessed
with a grin.

He smiled a little more.  "I suppose you could say that."

Sitting up momentarily, he shifted, moving closer to the wall, then he
tugged on Natalie's far hand.  "Lie down here with me, Nat."

She hesitated a little at the request, but Nick's present good mood drew
her in.  She stood for a moment to reposition herself, then had to let
go of his hand when she leaned back.  While she did so, Nick turned so
that he lay more on his side, facing her, and she turned a little, too.
"So...what's your plan?"

"No plan.  We can just lie here.  Or talk.  Or sleep.  It doesn't matter
to me, not as long as you're here."  The corners of his mouth twitched
up a little, and he touched her face.  Looking into her eyes, he found
himself leaning forward...dangerously forward, and less than a second
before their lips touched, he pulled back, his hand slid away, and he
rolled onto his back.

Natalie felt suddenly bereft of emotion when he pulled away--clearly on
purpose.  She had felt that they had been about to kiss.  She had wanted
it, and judging by Nick's expression, he had, too.  Rather than ask what
was wrong, she closed her eyes and rolled onto her back as well.

What was wrong was that it was too soon, at least for Nick.  He was
still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was alive, not to
mention whatever feelings he might have for her.  She felt less lost
when he again took her hand in his, but he didn't say anything.  When
she glanced at him, she found his gaze once more turned toward the wall,
eyes closed this time.  Seeing that, she resumed quietly lying there.
Sleep she supposed would be good...if she could manage it.

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

As she expected, Natalie was unable to sleep, although not because she
hadn't tried.  Nick had fallen asleep roughly thirty minutes after he'd
taken her hand, his fingers slowly losing their grip on hers.

By the time she had nearly fallen asleep, another half-hour or more
later, he had moved again.  He had turned on his side, back against the
wall, with his hands held protectively over his heart.  Worse, he
appeared to be having a nightmare.  Now, however much she tried to close
her eyes and sleep, she kept wanting to look over at him.  And she did
exactly that--over and over.

Eventually she settled for simply watching him, and the couple of times
his nightmare or nightmares got worse, she'd touch his cheek or his
hands.  The gentle touch seemed to calm the bad dreams or memories that
were plaguing his thoughts.

Somehow watching him instead of trying to sleep resulted in her falling
asleep for the first time that night.  She didn't think it lasted long
before she awoke, half smothered.  That, and the fact that Nick was
having yet another nightmare.  She tried saying his name this time, but
he didn't wake.

After a few minutes she rolled them, pushing him back toward the wall
once more, and at this, he did wake.  Gold, frightened eyes bored into
her as his hands pushed at her shoulders.  "Nick, it's okay.  You just
had a bad dream."

With his eyes locked on the woman's dim features, Nick wasn't sure this
wasn't still some dream, and he whispered to himself, "This is just a
dream," and closed his eyes again.

Realising he was trying to convince himself she wasn't real, she shook
him.  "Nick, look at me.  I'm not part of some dream.  Remember earlier?
I've been here with you half the day.  Nick?"

She shook him a little again, and he finally looked at her.  His eyes
had gone back to normal, but his expression had gone blank again like
when he had been brought to her room.  "I'm not going to vanish.  I'm
not some hallucination.  I'm real and I'm here, all right?" she asked,
touching his face again so he could feel that she actually was right
there and very real.  She tried smiling at him, but he started to pull
away from her.  Instinctively, she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms
around his back and hooking her chin over his shoulder.  "Shh, it's
okay," she repeated.

It took Nick a long time to relax.  In his dream--which he had thought
could have been real--Natalie had been taken away from him, screaming
until they knocked them both out.  He didn't want that to happen, and he
held onto her more tightly, closing his eyes.  Once he felt calmer, he
turned his face and kissed her on the cheek.

"You feeling better?"

"I'm just glad you're here, Nat."

"What was that last dream about?"

"It was...it was about you.  They took you away."

"Shh, I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere, all right?" she
soothed, but this time she didn't get an answer.  "Nick?"  She pulled
back to look at him, and she smiled seeing the blank look finally gone.
Now he just looked tired.  She tried to kiss him back on the cheek, but
he moved, trying to roll away from her, and their lips touched.

He froze, then abruptly pulled back, muttering, "I'm sorry."

"Nick--"

He pressed his fingers against her lips, stopping her protest.  "I
didn't mean to do that.  And I'm not upset, Nat, if that's what you were
worried about."

"You're not?" she asked, even though she knew he had meant to turn away
completely from her, so that they wouldn't have kissed at all.

"No.  It brings back too many memories...mixed memories."

"From just before you thought you had killed me," she surmised.

"And more.  And if you have to leave...it'll hurt you, Nat.  Allowing
ourselves to get close will hurt you.  I don't want to hurt you more
than I already have."

"I'm more worried about hurting you."

"You won't.  And...and it's not only that," he said, his eyes drifting
to the ceiling and the camera on the opposite side of the room.  "I
don't know if you noticed, but there are cameras in here.  And in
Daniel's lab, and throughout the base.  I'm sure someone's checking up
on us at least occasionally."

"I don't care.  Besides, we're not doing or planning to do anything
inappropriate."

"Depends on what's considered inappropriate," he said, and this time he
gently but deliberately kissed Natalie on the mouth again.  After
pulling away, they lay there for a long time, face to face, until she
kissed him back, this time much more deeply.  He responded, although his
fangs didn't yet descend like he could tell hers had.  It wasn't that he
didn't want this, but he knew what it would result in--taking one
another's blood.  At the very least Natalie would take his, which he
felt nervous enough about.  And if he took hers...

He remembered only too well what had happened the last time he had drunk
more than a few drops of blood.  Slowing their kiss and then starting
once more after almost pulling away again, Nick tried to convince
himself that this time would be different.  After all, Natalie was a
vampire, not a mortal.  He shouldn't have a problem with another
vampire's blood, with her precious, loving, and probably healing blood.

Natalie pushed Nick back onto his back as her kisses became ever deeper,
ever hungrier.  She felt like she was pushing herself onto him, which,
in a way, she was.  She had tried very, very hard to not get involved
with anyone since he had been lost to her, and all that time abstaining
from so much as a kiss over the past five years now made her lose
control in seconds.  Rather than kiss him again, she went for his neck
and his potent blood, needing it more than simply wanting it.

Nick didn't stop her from feeding from him.  In truth he wanted it as
well, his fangs now descending and demanding to reciprocate.  He waited
before finally taking her blood.  At first he saw flashes--the two of
them at his loft when he believed he had killed her, fleeting images
from her attempt to catch him.  Oh how close she had been at the
end--and he had never known--and then, finally, he tasted her
determination, which hadn't waned in the slightest.

Then the nausea started and he stopped feeding.  He closed his eyes and
tried to bask in the continued pleasure of his blood being drawn from
him, but with Natalie's weight pressing down on him, it only made him
queasy.  It wasn't so bad that he wanted to push her away, but he did
wish she'd stop so he could sit up or something.

Sensing something was wrong, Natalie realised she had probably taken a
substantial amount of his blood and stopped feeding from him.  Pulling
back, she immediately had to pull back even further when he rolled onto
his side, bowing his head toward the mattress between them.  "Nick?"  He
didn't answer, just lay there curled up in clear pain.  "Nick, what's
wrong?  Tell me what's wrong."

"I'll be all right," he said without opening his eyes or moving.  "I
just need to lie here for a minute," he mumbled.

"I didn't ask if you'll be all right; I asked what's wrong," she
countered, but he didn't answer her.  He still appeared to be in pain.

Rather than prod him again, Natalie lay back down next to him and tried
to comfort him with her touch.  While he relaxed a little, he still
seemed uncomfortable.  Watching him, she started to wonder if he was
getting worse.  He had curled up around her a bit more and buried his
head in her shoulder.  His grip was like steel, and she could almost
feel him shivering a little.  "Nick?  Please tell me what's wrong...or
what I can do to help.  Did I take too much of your blood?  Is that--"

"You didn't do anything wrong," he forced out, but talking only made the
nausea worse.  He knew he wouldn't be able to keep the blood down, but
he remained where he lay out of hope that he was wrong.  So far he
didn't taste any more blood than he should, considering he had fed from
Natalie, which was good.  He didn't want to explain about the blood to
her.  "This isn't your fault," he mumbled, keeping his face down and
covered.

"Nick...you know what's wrong.  Tell me," she tried again, but again he
didn't reply.  After a couple of minutes, his grip became even tighter
and he curled up more.  She heard him moan, then felt him push at her.
Sitting up, he almost shoved her off the bed, and then flew forward--or
tried to.  He collapsed several feet away from the bed, landing on his
hands and knees, and she immediately went after him.  "Nick!"

His sudden decision now felt foolish.  Flying hadn't gone that well, and
now he tasted blood in his mouth.  He shouldn't have tried to rush--now
he actually, really needed to rush.

He forced himself up to his feet, where he felt Natalie's hands on his
back, then he pulled away and headed for the bathroom sink.  He barely
made it before the blood in his mouth started to drip out.  He didn't
actually throw up, but more than a mere mouthful stained the sink's
bowl.  Worse, he was starting to feel dizzy, his vision blurring.  He
was going to pass out like last time.  He could feel it.  "Get Fraiser,"
he said, still leaning over the sink.

"Tell me what's wrong.  Tell me--"

"You can't do anything.  She'll know what happened.  Please, Nat," he
moaned and another, longer drizzle of blood poured into the sink.

Natalie didn't want to leave him, but it wasn't as if she'd be allowed
to go get Dr. Fraiser herself, so she went to the door and pulled it
open.  She had done so quickly, then stiffened when one of the alien
weapons was aimed at her.  She had startled the guards and had to remind
herself to try and stay calm.  "Go get Dr. Fraiser--now--or tell her to
get down here.  Please," she said and watched the two men look at one
another, but they didn't act.  "He's sick, really sick.  Please go get
her."

"Get back inside," the man with the weapon on her ordered.

"Please--"

"Return inside and we will get her for you."

Natalie nearly protested, but slowly nodded to herself and backed into
the room.  Shutting the door, she turned toward the bathroom.  Nick was
no longer leaning over the sink, but slumped on the floor, one hand
barely clinging to the sink's edge.

She rushed over and knelt.  Turning him to face her, his hand finally
lost its grip on the sink and he fell toward her.  "Nick?" she softly
said, even though she suspected he couldn't hear her.  His eyes were
closed and he didn't resist as she guided his head down toward the
floor, where he lay twisted half on his back and half on his side, blood
oozing from his lips to the floor.  She didn't understand what was
happening, nor did she have any idea what would help.  Her blood should
help, but if her blood had done this...  She hoped Fraiser really would
know what had happened...and what to do.

Natalie tried not to move him at all and let him lie where he was, but
she couldn't resist touching either his skin or hair.  She felt thankful
her bite mark was hidden, but she had seen it before he fell.  It hadn't
healed even slightly and had been visibly bleeding.  Something was
definitely wrong.

Upon hearing movement in the hall, she pulled her hand back from his
hair.  A moment later the door opened and Fraiser entered, her bag in
front of her.

"He said you'd know what happened," Natalie said and stood, moving out
of the small room to allow the mortal woman some space to work.

Fraiser approached, but stopped before she had reached him.  Fresh blood
drew her eyes to the sink, and more blood had dripped to the floor where
Nick lay.  She had a very good idea what had happened, and she turned
back to Natalie.  Taking a chance, she held a hand out toward the other
woman, only for the vampire to pull back.  "I'm not going to hurt you; I
only want to check something."

When the mortal reached forward again, Natalie forced herself to stay
still.  She closed her eyes as the woman pushed her hair back on the
side Nick had bitten her.  When Fraiser retracted her hand, she opened
her eyes again.  She couldn't discern the mortal's opinion by her
expression.

"He took your blood," Fraiser said.  "How much did he take?"

"Not much," Natalie replied, then added, "I'm more concerned that this
is from what I took."

"From what I've been able to ascertain, this is a side-effect of the
drugs we were giving him," Fraiser explained.  She went into the
bathroom where she knelt and quickly looked her patient over, not that
she learned much.  Short of an EEG, all she could do was guess.

"So this has happened before."

"Yes, it's happened before.  He was unconscious for about eighteen hours
that time.  He hasn't been able to drink even small amounts of
blood--even his own makes him nauseous.  He should have improved by now.
He's had no drugs at all now for nearly two weeks."

"Until he woke up and saw me," Natalie whispered.

"Yes, and I gave him a double dose then--but that particular drug
combination was different than what he more typically received."

"But if it's some side-effect, my blood should have helped him, not..."
She closed her eyes.  "He probably thought it would help, too.  And
that's why you're still giving him blood intravenously, isn't it?"

Fraiser nodded.  "And that's how he's received all of his blood--via IV
or a syringe--the entire time since he arrived at Nellis.  That probably
hasn't helped.  His system is no longer used to ingesting blood, and I
don't know what to do to fix the situation, other than have him try tiny
amounts every so often to reactivate his normal digestive processes."
She looked Nick's twisted form over again, then stood, moving into the
corner of the room.  "Help me get him up."

"You're not going to have him taken to the infirmary?" Natalie asked,
not yet moving forward.

"No.  All I can really do for him is give him blood and let him rest,
which he can do here in his quarters."

Natalie tensed, but started forward.  She'd rather have him stay there,
too, as she would more likely be allowed to stay with him.  That, and
she wanted to give him her blood.  Human blood would only help so much,
especially if he had lingering side-effects from the drugs he had been
given.

Together the two women got Nick to his feet and over to the bed.  It had
been a bit easier than either expected.  He twitched a little while they
positioned him, as though he wasn't completely out.  Fraiser saw this as
encouraging, and she started to pull items out of her bag.

"Don't," Natalie said, moving directly in front of her.

"More blood will help him recover faster, correct?"

"Yes, but my blood--a vampire's blood--will help him more," Natalie
countered.  "So, please, let me do this."

Fraiser considered the request very carefully, so much so that a tinge
of gold started to appear in the vampire's eyes.  Since she didn't think
it would hurt--and could possibly do more good--she agreed, "All right,
but if you intend to give him your blood, then I'm sure you'll need more
to replace what you lose.  And depending on how we do this, I'll need to
go back to the infirmary."

"You don't need to," Natalie said, then moved, heading back to the
bathroom to retrieve her earlier cup from the trash.  She hesitated,
seeing and smelling the blood in the sink and on the floor--her
blood--but then quickly grabbed the cup and unwrapped it, pulling it out
of the second bag.  Returning, she set the faintly stained cup down next
to the alarm clock.  "Put whatever you want me to have in here.  Then
all I need is for you to move and give me a scalpel."

Fraiser stared up at Natalie, again hesitating, mainly at the last
request.  She had to remind herself that this woman was not only a
doctor, but a vampire.  She certainly would know more about how, in
general, to care for another vampire than she herself did.  Putting away
some of the items--gloves, tubing--she pulled out a bag of blood and
handed it to the other woman.

"Thank you," Natalie said, taking the bag and carefully emptying it into
the cup.  Setting the bag aside, she drank the crimson liquid as quickly
as she could manage.

Fraiser stood and walked around the other woman.  She took the empty bag
and replaced it with a scalpel still in its sterile wrapper.  She didn't
know exactly what Natalie planned to do with it, but she had a guess.
What she didn't know was if it would actually work.  She had seen how
Nick's system would literally pull blood in.  But Natalie's would as
well.

She stood back when Natalie set the cup down.  The other woman took the
scalpel out of the wrapper, and positioned herself on the edge of the
bed.  Next she lifted Nick's arm that lay closer to her and rested it
against her thigh.  Fraiser flinched when she cut into his wrist and his
blood welled to the surface.  Next she watched her move the scalpel to
her left hand, and make a matching--but mirrored--cut on her own wrist.
This wound bled even more than Nick's, but in a moment she couldn't see
either wound.  Natalie had twisted her arm around his and grasped his
hand so that the two wounds lined up and touched.

Almost immediately, Nick twitched again.  He didn't wake, but he
certainly came close.  In moments his expression softened until it
appeared as though he were having pleasant dreams.

Looking at Natalie, however, Fraiser could see that she was struggling
with this.  She had her head bowed and she wasn't at all relaxed.
"Natalie?" she said, moving forward, but the other woman didn't respond.
"I think it's time to stop," she suggested, touching her shoulder.

Natalie started at the touch and looked up right into the mortal's eyes.
Anger flooded her thoughts, but she calmed at seeing the woman's fear
and vaguely remembering her words.  She was right; it was time to stop.
Turning back to Nick, she realised her body was trying to fight for his
blood and she let go of his wrist.  She had never actually done that
procedure before.  LaCroix had shown her how, but in giving an actual
demonstration, she had broken free of his grip almost immediately,
mainly because it had been she who was weak, so her body pulled his
blood in and made her feel emotionally different.  With Nick, it merely
made her feel hungry and weak, but she could also see the difference in
him.  She had helped him.

"Are you all right?"

"I will be," she whispered, her focus on Nick.  She wanted, needed to
talk to him about this, but not with the mortal doctor there.  "So you
expect he could be out for a while?"

"Possibly, but as I'm sure you can guess, he didn't respond this way
when I treated him before.  He is more weak than completely unresponsive
this time, probably because there are different variables involved.  I
expect he'll wake much sooner than before."

"Are you planning to stay?"

"I'd like to."

"Can't you watch without actually being here?" Natalie asked,
remembering Nick's mention of the cameras.  "Or are the cameras only for
show?"

"No, they're not only for show," the doctor affirmed.

"Then, please, I'd like to be able to talk to him when he wakes, and I
think it would be better if we were alone--or at least have it seem that
way.  Just leave me the scalpel and another bag of blood, then go and
watch from the monitor.  Or have someone else watch and wake you when he
wakes up.  I'm sure you'd probably rather sleep than watch us all night
anyway.  It's now, what..."  Natalie checked the clock.  "Two in the
morning.  I'm sorry for keeping you up this late."

"Don't be."  Fraiser took in a deep breath.  "I'll leave, and--"

"And you'll leave the scalpel?"

She paused for a couple of seconds, then nodded.  "All right, I'll leave
the scalpel."  Reaching into her bag, she pulled out more blood as
requested.  She barely handed it toward Natalie before it was seized.
Once the other woman emptied the bag into the now well-used cup, Fraiser
added, "I would like you to do one thing, however."

"Which is?"

"Don't let him take that much of your blood again.  I've tried to get
him to drink small amounts of blood, but he wasn't very willing--or
interested.  While he may be more willing to take yours, he probably
should start with much smaller amounts."

"But you're not going to stop him?"

"No, nor will I tell you outright that you can't feed from him again--I
saw the marks--I just want you to keep his best interests in mind."

"I will and I have so far."  By now, Natalie had finished squeezing
every drop of blood she could from the bag.  She carefully rolled it up
and handed it back to the other woman, who accepted it.

"All right," Fraiser agreed and stashed this second empty bag of blood
with the first, in yet another plastic bag.  Closing her medical kit,
she took in another deep breath before finally saying, "Then I'll see
you in the morning, unless one of us feels there's something urgent that
needs to be dealt with."

"Again, thank you."

"You're welcome," the doctor replied, then headed to the door, which she
slowly opened before leaving.

Once the door shut, Natalie relaxed.  Nick still appeared to be
sleeping, and she didn't want to disturb him, but she also wanted him to
heal as quickly and thoroughly as possible.  She drank the blood she had
requested.  Then, scalpel in hand, she sat on the edge of the bed, but
turned so that she was curled up next to him, facing the wall.  Slicing
their wrists again, she placed the faintly bloody scalpel in the cup and
lay down next to Nick, pulling his arm toward her.  She closed her eyes
and tried to concentrate more on him than the sensation of her blood
being drawn from her body.  She didn't know if she wanted him to wake
now or later.  She felt so very tired, yet had no desire to sleep.



A Trial Run - (26/32)

Nick woke from a strange--but good--dream, only to find it wasn't much
of a dream.  Natalie was actually there, lying next to him, half atop
him, her fingers entwined with his.  There, behind her on the
nightstand, he could see a shiny metal object in what looked like the
cup from her earlier dinner.  Thinking of blood, the memory of what had
happened came abruptly back to him.  He had passed out again, and the
metal object in the cup was a scalpel.  Her arm was entwined with his
because she had given him her blood.  And the scalpel...  She could have
only gotten that from Dr. Fraiser.

He tried to shift without waking her, but the moment he moved, she
stirred.  She looked so worried right when she first woke, but then she
smiled.

"I am so glad to see you awake."

"Why wouldn't I be awake?" he asked, but immediately regretted it
because her smile vanished.

"I had no idea what happened because you wouldn't *talk* to me.  Fraiser
had to explain most of what happened the last time.  Said you were out
for eighteen hours."

Nick winced.

"So of course I was worried, and I'm happy to see you awake after only a
few hours."

"What time is it?" he muttered before he peeked past her.  "Oh.  Six."

"Yes.  So you were only out for about four hours this time.  And I take
it you feel all right?"

"Yeah," he said, his eyes going to their entwined arms and fingers.  He
smiled.  "Waking up with you beside me after you gave me your
blood--what could be better?"

"Hmm, well, I figured it would help more than the alternative.  It might
even alleviate more than just your current situation.  She explained
what happened before.  She also mentioned her suspicion that either
because of the drugs you were given or because you've had your meals by
IV so long that your digestive system is no longer able to process blood
like it should."  She couldn't help but feel hurt and exasperated that
he had kept that from her.  They had, after all, practically talked
about it.  Rather than let her anger fester, she prompted, wondering if
she'd get a reply, "What I don't understand...is why you didn't tell
me."

"I...I didn't want you to worry.  And I hoped your blood would be
different, that it would fix me--or at least help," he answered, but
looked away from her as he did so.  "And it did.  I lasted a lot longer
this time before I passed out, and wasn't unconscious nearly as long
either."  Looking back at her, he thought he saw a glimmer of
forgiveness and understanding...but only a glimmer.  "Honestly, Nat, I
had thought the nausea would pass, that I'd get over it.  I just didn't
want you to worry--that's all."

"I worry more when you don't say anything, especially when it's clear to
me that you're hiding something."

Nick didn't reply this time.  He knew it bothered her, but didn't want
to burden her with more trouble.  He hadn't wanted her to worry about
him because he couldn't keep the blood down, or about what might happen
to either of them if he fully described his time at Nellis.  What little
he remembered, other than the nearly constant haze of the drugs or,
later, his work, hadn't been good.  Worse yet, he had, unknowingly at
the time, killed some of his guards.

"You do feel better now, don't you?  Or can you tell?"

"I do feel...stronger," he answered, although he wasn't quite sure that
was the best word.  "Or at least not as weak.  Something."  His eyes
darted to her for a moment.  She looked less worried, but more tired.
"Did you sleep any, or did you stay up all morning worrying about me?"

"Ah, well, I think I fell asleep soon after Fraiser left.  So, yeah, I
got some sleep.  More than I've been getting recently, anyway."

Nick felt uncomfortable at the mention that the four hours or so of
sleep was more than she had gotten lately, but he remembered what it was
like being in an unfamiliar setting.

He glanced at the clock again.  It was near time for breakfast.  "How
worried was she?  Fraiser, I mean."

"Ah, a bit.  Not as much as me, obviously.  I think she wanted to stay,
and to be honest, I don't blame her.  She mentioned she's tried to get
you to drink small amounts of blood, but that you--"

"I couldn't then.  Even just a few drops made me not only queasy...but
starving.  Starving and out of control.  Not a good combination.  It all
started about the same time that she weaned me off the drugs.  From that
point, I felt slightly ill or unsettled every moment of the day."

"But now--"

"Now I feel better, more normal, I suppose you could say.  Since I've
been here, I've been getting a rationed amount of blood on a more
regular basis than I ever managed on my own.  I think that already
helped a lot with how I felt.  There's little variation in my schedule,
when I sleep, work, or get my meals.  And I guess my system has become
used to it."

"Did last night screw up your schedule and undo all of that?"

Nick had to think a moment, then shook his head.  "No, I don't think so.
Like I said, I feel better now, and it's not only from coming back here
and getting back on my schedule.  I also feel better now than I did last
night while we were talking.  I'm positive it was your blood that made
the difference.  After that little...hurdle, anyway."  He shifted
position, twisting and moving until he was sitting up against the bed's
headboard, a pillow squished behind him.

Now Natalie sat up, her eyes on him.  He seemed different than he had
yesterday, and stronger or less weak most definitely wasn't the word.
He looked...healthier.  Despite that, if she could guess, he'd been
getting an adequate amount of blood.  "So...now that you're feeling
better, what are you...or we...going to do today?"

Nick's good mood dipped a little.  What would they do?  "First, there's
breakfast.  I'm sure Fraiser will be by soon."

"And what are you going to do with that?  Same as last night?"

"I don't know if I should try to drink any or not.  That didn't exactly
work very well earlier."

"You took more than a little, Nick.  Not a lot, but--"

"I know.  I should try, I suppose, but even spread out over an hour or
more, I doubt I'd be able to drink all of it."

"It doesn't have to be all or nothing.  You could try just a little."

"I'm not sure I could manage it."

"Then you could always try mine."

He shook his head.  "No, I don't want to feed from you like that."

"You wouldn't be feeding from me, just taking small amounts to retrain
your stomach to accept blood again.  And even if you did, I wouldn't
mind.  You know that.  Think of it as taking your medicine."

"But it would weaken you."

"Then we can tell Fraiser what we have in mind and she can help us
compensate.  She can give me more blood and you less.  That's what she
did last night.  She gave me the blood she would have given you, and I'm
sure she'd do it again."

Nick stiffened and looked away, letting his eyes focus on the wall
behind her.  "Maybe, but anything we do might be for nothing.  And if I
can get enough from you to where your blood doesn't make me ill, it'll
weaken you."

"Like I said, I'm all right with that, and it just means she'll give me
extra to help us out.  She wants you to be able to feed normally, too."

"Then I'll think about it."

"Good.  That's all I want.  I'm not trying to push you into anything.
And if you're not interested...  I mean, you've gotten used to not
having to taste the blood, not having to drink it...which you don't like
doing anyway.  If you don't want to start drinking it again, I don't
think there's anything wrong with that.  But it shouldn't make you sick
or out of control if you do, either.  If you were completely healthy,
you should be able to do it either way.  You should make your own
choice, of course, but it's always good to *have* choices."

Nick focused on Natalie once again.  He didn't feel as if she was
pushing him into doing something he didn't want.  True, he liked not
having to drink blood, but when he tasted even a few drops, he felt ill
and often times less human.  Even though it made him feel ill, he still
wanted it.  When he only took a few drops--less than a swallow, but no
more--it only intensified his craving.  It didn't feel natural, nor did
he feel more mortal from abstaining.  If anything, he felt far less
mortal when his predatory instincts flared at the sweet scent he had so
long either been denied or denied himself.

"Nick?"

"No, I want to try," he said.  "Even if I have to go back later, I'd
like to try."

Natalie watched his attention stray again.  She had asked what they were
going to do today and hadn't gotten past the idea of breakfast.  "Are
you planning to work some more in that office--Dr. Jackson's office?  Or
here in your room, or--"

"Here.  If I decide to work, I'll work here."

"If you decide to work?"

"I might not today.  I'd really rather spend more time with you.  I want
to hear more about what you've been doing...and how LaCroix has treated
you.  You've been around him on and off now longer than you have me.
Besides that, I'm sure that whatever you did at work has changed, and
I'd like to hear all about that as well."

"Had changed.  I quit, remember?"

"I still want to hear about it.  And I don't think taking a day off will
be a problem.  I don't have a set work schedule, anyway, and I'm not
working on anything urgent.  I'm really more of an extra hand around
here than someone valuable."

Natalie wanted to tell him otherwise, but she'd never change his mind.

"So...what did you do?  Were you a regular doctor, medical examiner,
teacher, researcher...?"

"Ah, a bit of everything, actually.  I primarily taught classes geared
more toward forensics including, yes, watching medical students turn
green at seeing an autopsy up close for the first time," Natalie
started.  She didn't know how far she'd get before they were
interrupted; her job wasn't really all that interesting when it came
down to it.  "And I helped out at a clinic based there in the hospital,
then there was my own research..."

"My cure," he whispered.

"Yeah.  Although I had to use my own blood for any tests, of course."

"Did you find anything new?"

"Ah, to be honest, I don't know.  After all, I didn't want to try
anything on myself in case it actually worked.  And most of my research
focused on what causes the change and how we're different.  I was able
to run both my mortal and present DNA, even look at my chromosomes,
which was...amazing...and rather telling."

"In what way?"

She sighed and replied quietly, "I believe it possibly points to some
bad news."

"It might not be reversible at all," Nick assumed.

"Possibly--for now--but considering how fast medical technology is
advancing, it might be possible at some point in the near future.  But
at least I know now that it's not as simple as I thought it was, like
staying off the blood or taking some magic pill or an exotic drug.
Besides, I thought you wanted me to talk about my job, my life, not--"

"I do, I was just...curious," Nick said.  "So...how did you like
teaching?  Did you have any interesting students?" he asked, trying to
ask more about her life and her job.  He didn't really want to talk
about his cure, anyway.  Unless he left--assuming he could leave--that
was no longer something they could pursue.  For now he wanted to know
what he had missed and how she was doing...and if she would be all right
without him.

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

Later that day Nick resisted the urge to get up and pace.  If he moved
too much, Natalie would awaken; she had fallen asleep curled up next to
him.

Fraiser had come by while they talked to give them their breakfast, as
he had expected.  He hadn't tried drinking any of the blood, instead
letting her give it to him by IV as had become the norm.  She had been
worried about him after what had happened that morning, but left after
he assured her he was all right.  He had felt a little jittery at
first--he assumed from getting more blood than he was used to overall in
the previous half-day--and she had noticed.

They had then talked some more, until they eventually sat in peaceful
silence...and Natalie had fallen asleep.  Apparently she hadn't gotten
enough sleep that morning.  He didn't mind.  He knew she felt safer
there with him, but it didn't ease his desire to do something besides
sit and lose himself in his thoughts.

Natalie had only partially integrated into her life in Chicago.  As when
they had met, she did little in the way of activities, other than work
and go home, but this time, instead of a cat, she had LaCroix for a
companion--definitely not the most equitable of trade-offs.  And it
sounded as though she rarely attended work functions and avoided
socialising with her co-workers.  They asked too many personal questions
that she couldn't answer or didn't have a good answer for.

He could guess their overall summary of her: She was an unmarried woman,
dedicated to her work to the point that she didn't have much of a life,
and apparently never indulged in anything more than work dates, and very
few of those.  Natalie--the Natalie he knew--hadn't truly moved on in
her new life, which told him how much she cared for him, probably loved
him, despite not having said anything.

He felt torn between wanting to stay and having her flee to safety...and
trying to flee with her.  When it came down to it, he thought she'd have
a better chance if she fled on her own--a much better chance.  Just her
and LaCroix.  But she wouldn't go, no matter what he said.  She didn't
want to leave him again, and in truth, he didn't want her to leave.  But
it wasn't right for him to tie her to his current fate.  He had done
this to himself.  Only he deserved the consequences.  If LaCroix alone
had come to find him, he wouldn't care what happened to him.  But
Natalie...

Nick bowed his head and closed his eyes, gently tightening his hold on
the woman he loved.  He resisted the temptation to kiss her temple,
instead letting his lips brush her forehead.  He felt her shift
positions, and he felt bad for waking her.

"I'm sorry, I must have dozed off," she mumbled, waking more fully.

"It's all right.  I didn't mean to wake you."

"What time is it?"

"Almost four."

Natalie twisted to look at the clock, and indeed it was only a few
minutes before four in the afternoon.  It had probably been closer to
noon or, at the latest, one when they had stopped talking earlier.  "You
shouldn't have let me sleep that long."

"You needed it."

"And now I'll be up all night."

"Then I'll stay up with you."

She looked directly at him, but he seemed serious, and would probably do
exactly that, and so she sighed.  "All right then, what, if anything,
did I miss?"

"Nothing."

"Are you really not planning to do anything today?"

"Not a thing," he said and smiled.  "I just want to spend the whole day
with you.  After all, we still have a lot of catching up to do, and for
starters, I want to hear more about--"

"I already told you all there was about my job, even LaCroix--not that I
think he's changed much in the last five years, except that his hair
might be a tad shorter and--"

"And that he's desperate to find me.  Again.  Like that first time he
found me in Toronto.  He'll do anything to get me back."

"Maybe, but at least this time I don't think he has any intention of
killing you, or even threatening to kill you, for that matter."

"I suppose that's an improvement," Nick muttered.

"And you really aren't going to talk to him?"

"I don't know."  He closed his eyes and finally asked, "He won't leave
even if I do--will he?"

"Probably not, but if you really have no intention of going with
him...I'd at least try talking to him to tell him that."

"But will it do any good?" he asked more to himself, but then he focused
fully on her.  "Telling you I want you to leave the first chance you
get...  I know that won't change anything.  And if I talk to LaCroix..."

"Are you afraid he'll say something?  Or do something?"

"Both," Nick whispered, looking away.  He didn't want the other man to
goad or trick him into doing what he wanted.  Nor did he want his
sire--after he made it clear he had no intention of leaving with him--to
do something like kill one of the soldiers guarding him...or Dr.
Fraiser, for that matter.  While he didn't know for sure, he suspected
Fraiser, more than anyone else, had repeatedly been in and out of where
he was being held, and would be the most vulnerable to his manipulation
and/or retaliation.  And he would bet that even with the short, quick
meetings, the mortal's mannerisms would remind his master sharply of
Natalie.  In his eyes, she'd be a perfect, symbolic target.

"Why don't you try to work for a little while?" Natalie suggested when
he zoned off, probably because of what they were talking about.  "I can
either prod you along by asking what you're doing, or I can leave you
alone and...I'm sure I could find something to do.  I think I saw a book
somewhere..."

Immediately his attention switched to the small but neat stack of papers
that now sat on the small table he used as a desk.  While he didn't
necessarily feel like being nudged every step of the way, if she did
something else, even read, he'd be distracted even more.  And it wasn't
as if she hadn't seen him work before...or get confused over some
problem he couldn't quite piece together.

"Nick?"

Slowly he nodded.  "Yeah, I guess I can try to get some work done...for
a little while," he answered and nodded to the papers, which lay closer
to her than himself.  She retrieved them for him and, after he had
shifted so he was more comfortable, she regained her seat next to him.

"If I'm in your way, just let me know."

At first he had worried she would be in his way, cuddled up to his right
side, but the first time he moved slightly to write something, she
shifted positions so that his arm would be free.

Natalie kept quiet until she noticed that he appeared to be reading the
same section of alien text for the dozenth or more time without
scribbling a word or a single letter.  Then she tried to ask questions
about what he was trying to translate and nudge him along without
pressing too hard.

Nick felt defensive at first, but soon realised that her questions
helped immensely.  She seemed genuinely interested, but then she had
always been interested in his past and whatever he knew, what he had
learned over the centuries and who he had met--not that he had often
indulged her curiosity more than necessary.  It made him feel like how
they had been before, even closer than they had been before...and his
mixed feelings surfaced again.  He wanted her there, enjoyed her
presence, yet he didn't want anything to happen to her.  Eventually,
unable to focus even with her help--very probably because she sat so
close to him--he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine.  I just think it's time to stop for now."  He felt her cuddle
even closer to him and he leaned his head toward her.  He had missed
this easy closeness, simply sitting together and enjoying each other's
company, but today he felt more and more hungry...or something.  The
scent of her potent blood kept drawing his attention, distracting him,
and his body was telling him that it wanted the blood on a physical,
more sensory level, which was something new...or perhaps something old
that had been forgotten.  Their conversation that morning about her
helping him get used to drinking blood again had woken that part of him.

Abruptly, Nick sat up.  He turned and looked past Natalie to see the
clock.  Almost six.  Fraiser would be there soon with blood for both of
them.  "I want to try," he whispered.  "I want to try now before she
gets here."

"Try...?" she started, but she realised he meant try actually drinking
blood--*her* blood.

"That way either it works and I can try drinking a little of what she
brings, or...or the blood she brings will...fix me.  Or yours will, if
it ends up like this morning."

"Okay, but if we're going to do this, you should only take a little bit,
and by 'little' I mean--"

"I know, but if a little doesn't make me ill, I'll try more.  You know I
will."

Natalie wanted to tell him to go slow, but if a small taste didn't make
him ill...  If it were her, she'd want to try more, too.  "All right,"
she said and turned so that she faced him, then held out her right hand,
wrist up.

Nick stared at the offered wrist longer than she expected, then he
carefully took her hand and arm in his hands.  He half-pulled and
half-guided her slender wrist toward his now descended and truly hungry
fangs.

"Remember now, just a little," she reminded him.

He glanced up at her with gold eyes, and for the first time since that
night she really saw what he was take over.  Then he slowly bit her and,
just when she thought he was going to throw away any sense of caution,
he pulled away.  He still had hold of her wrist, although he had lowered
it and relaxed his grip.  He also bowed his head and closed his eyes,
making it hard for her to gauge his reaction.

"Are you okay?  How do you feel?"

Nick had a hard time focusing on her words instead of her blood.  A
trace of the sweet liquid lingered in his mouth, and he could
effectively taste her emotions within her blood...really *taste* it,
unlike that morning.  He felt only a slight twinge of nausea, but it
passed after a few seconds.  "I want more," he whispered and brought her
wrist back up to his mouth.

Natalie gasped when he almost violently bit into her wrist.  While he
fed from her, she closed her eyes half in pain and half in pleasure.
She wasn't used to the physical sensation of being fed from or the wave
of emotions that came with it.  Moreover, Nick was taking a substantial
amount of her blood this time, and she soon felt almost dizzy.

Only when he found it hard to swallow did he stop feeding.  He hadn't
wanted to stop, but the queasy feeling had returned...and started to
build.  This time he released his hold on her wrist and bowed his head
more deeply, waiting for the uncomfortable sensation to pass.

"Nick?" Natalie said, concerned about the more severe reaction,
especially since he had taken so much...more than he had the previous
night.  "Nick?  Are you all right?" she asked again.  When he didn't
reply, she leaned forward and pulled his chin up.  His eyes were still
gold, a hungry gold, despite his intake of fresh blood, and he appeared
ill.  Precisely as he had early that morning.  "Come on, talk to me,"
she urged.  "Tell me how you feel."

"Nauseous," Nick answered.  "And hungry."

"Did you feel that way this morning?"

"No.  No, I wasn't hungry, just...nauseous."

"How are you feeling now?"

Nick closed his eyes and tried to focus on how he felt.  More
specifically, he focused on whether the nausea was getting better,
worse, or neither.  He didn't feel as bad as he had that morning, or at
least not like he had right before passing out.  And it was hard to tell
for sure, but he didn't feel worse than he had a few minutes before.

"Nick?"

"I don't think it's getting worse.  But I'm not sure it's getting
better, either."

"You're doing better this time than you did earlier."

"I think I am," he muttered.  He let silence engulf him again and tried
instead to focus on the lingering sensations from the blood.  The hunger
and the sweetness of the blood finally started to fade, and so did the
queasiness.  "It's okay now.  It's getting better."

"The nausea?"

"Yeah.  It's fading.  Your blood...it was enough.  It healed whatever
was wrong."

"You mean it's healing whatever was wrong," Natalie corrected.  "It's
not completely healed until you can drink human blood without a hint of
nausea."

"At least I haven't passed out, and I don't I think I will.  For me,
that's close enough."

"But you will--"

"Yes, I'll try to drink at least some of what she brings.  And I'll be
careful, don't worry."

"And you'll stop before you start feeling really sick?  In other words,
not like just now?"

"I didn't feel nearly as bad as I did this morning, but yes, I'll stop
sooner.  I promise."

"Good."  Moments after she said it, Natalie heard steps approaching from
the hall and added, "And just in time."

"Or possibly too soon," Nick countered.  He didn't know if he really
wanted more blood right now.  He half hoped Fraiser had merely seen what
they had done and was there to talk to them--him, especially--about it.

He had no such luck; the doctor had come with blood for them both.  She
didn't mention him taking Natalie's blood.  She might not even know,
since Natalie's wrist had already nearly healed.

Natalie managed to convince the doctor to just give her the blood and
not give him any by IV.  She even somehow convinced the mortal to leave
before either of them drank any of the blood, although Fraiser looked at
him with concern before leaving.  However concerned she was, she seemed
to respect his choice.

"Nick?" Natalie said once they were once again alone and he had clearly
zoned out a bit.  "If you don't want--"

"No, I'll at least try some.  It's just that I'm not...frankly, I'm not
very hungry at the moment," he said, but when he looked right at
Natalie, he felt his hunger stir again.

"You sure you're not hungry?" she asked, seeing his eyes change, but the
question made his hungry gaze return to normal.

"I guess I really don't know how I feel," he said, this time looking
away.

"Well, I think I have an idea how this will make you feel," Natalie said
and emptied one of the two bags into a cup.  As expected, he cringed.
When it came down to it, he really didn't care much for drinking
blood--especially not the last couple of centuries.  Handing the plastic
cup out to him, she again reminded him, "Remember, don't drink too
much."

Nick took the cup.  He didn't think he'd have any trouble stopping
himself from overdoing it.  He simply didn't want it or crave it, nor
did his body truly need it.  He carefully took a sip--a large sip--and
immediately felt the nausea return.  He felt worse than when he had had
just a little of Natalie's blood, but as it had then, the queasy
sensation faded quickly.  Rather than drink more, however, he told her
to have some.

She felt awkward feeling him stare at her while she drank some of the
liquid from the cup.  He didn't appear overly bothered, but kept his
eyes on her and the blood.  He wanted the cup back, she knew, and once
it was half empty, she gave it back to him.

Nick took it again, but didn't drink from it.  He still felt a little
off and Natalie's blood called to him more than the tepid but fresh
blood in the cup did.  It should have been the other way around.

"You can always set it aside for a while."

"No.  I'll drink it," he said and raised it, only for Natalie to stop
him, her hand on his wrist, keeping the cup away from his lips.

"First, tell me how you feel.  Are you nauseous again?  Has it--"

"I was a bit queasy, but it's faded again.  I'll be fine," he said and
waited.  After a few seconds, she let go of him.  He raised the cup
again and took another sizeable swallow.  Again it made him nauseous,
but no worse than the first time.

"Better or worse?"

"Neither," he answered.  "Same as the first."

"That is an improvement, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Nick said and smiled, but his smile faded when he thought
about drinking more.  If he could only make it even...he wouldn't have
to feed from Natalie again later.

He took another drink, this time a bit larger, and as with the first
two, he felt nauseous right away.  Unlike the other times, however, the
nausea didn't level out after a few seconds and then start to drop off.
"Here, Nat, take it," he whispered and closed his eyes, bowing his head
again in an attempt to keep the blood down.  He didn't know if he had
reached his limit for now or if he should have waited longer between
drinks, but the nausea felt worse this time.

"Nick?" she called, setting the cup down and trying to get him to look
at her.  He wouldn't open his eyes or let her tilt his chin up.  It
reminded her of that morning before he had eventually vomited her blood
and passed out.  Carefully, she crawled onto the bed next to him and,
remembering how he had lain on his side that morning to try and wait it
out, she gently pulled him over toward her.

Nick didn't resist the gentle tugging and let her guide him so that he
was leaning into her.  She didn't try talking to him again, which
helped.  He focused on waiting and hoping for the nausea to start
fading...that and her comforting hold on him.  Just her close and
comforting presence helped him feel better, or at least not worse.  He
hoped that waiting would work this time, and he thought it might.  He
felt bad, but not quite as bad as that morning.  Time would help.



A Trial Run - (27/32)

Nick had more than enough time, not only that night, but over the next
couple of days.  He was relieved he hadn't gotten so sick that he lost
the blood he drank or passed out, although, understandably, he didn't
have any more human blood that first night.  Now, two days later, he had
cautiously gotten to the point that he could drink his entire ration of
human blood.  Granted, he had only managed it once--that morning--and it
had taken half an hour, but he had done it.

Natalie was guardedly pleased, but he could see how being confined was
taking a toll on her.  She wanted to do something.  More specifically,
she kept prodding him to do something since she couldn't do much
herself.  All that did was remind him that she was even more a prisoner
than he was.

She wasn't coping as well in other ways.  Her mid-day nap that first day
she spent in his quarters hadn't been the first one.  The second day she
had fallen asleep at the same time.  Now it was early afternoon again
and she had just fallen asleep while watching him work.  He had a
suspicion why she kept falling asleep--she was young, had only been a
vampire for a few years, and he knew the sun had a stronger effect on
younger vampires than older ones like himself.  And there with him, she
felt safe.

While watching her sleep, he had been working on a plan.  Granted, he
didn't think it would necessarily be a good one, but he knew he'd have
to do something--sometime.  Right now he was considering going to talk
to LaCroix.  Natalie kept asking if he would, and the more he thought
about it, the more sure he felt that he would have to talk to him at
some point.  And the sooner he did so, the better.  He had already put
it off long enough.

Today he sat at the table and she stayed on the bed; he could easily
leave without waking her.  For some reason, he didn't want her to know
when he went to talk to LaCroix.  Right now would be his best chance to
try to convince his sire to leave.

Slowly Nick stood and, after crossing to the door, he tried to sense
whether she was still asleep.  Deciding she was, he pulled the door open
and quietly slipped out, which was difficult because of the guards.  He
didn't speak to them, instead simply started walking down the hall, away
from his quarters.  Neither soldier followed him nor told him to stop.
The guards were apparently Natalie's, not his.

His mood dropped upon reaching the elevator and starting it up to level
twenty-one.  He didn't know exactly where he was going, but he knew
enough of the layout that, between that and following his sire's
presence, he knew he'd find his way.

Reaching level twenty-one, he walked on autopilot to the infirmary, but
stopped before going in.  He considered telling Fraiser what he planned
to do, but she had told him earlier that he was allowed to talk to
LaCroix.  He was sure any conversation they had would be recorded and
examined, so it didn't matter whether the doctor or General Hammond knew
beforehand or not.

Carefully, Nick worked his way further into level twenty-one, following
the unusually strong sense of sire's presence and keeping an eye out for
Fraiser.  It didn't take long to find the guarded room in which LaCroix
was incarcerated.  It confirmed his suspicions that the other man had
been taken to the very same place in which he himself had awakened.  The
soldiers tensed upon seeing him, but didn't tell him to leave.  "I wish
to speak to him."

The two men closest to the door looked at one another, and one said
something over his headset--telling whoever was on the other end about
their guest having a visitor.  Rather than dissuading Nick, after a
moment, the man turned toward him.  "Tell us when you're ready to
leave," he said, then nodded toward the doorway.

Nick hesitated, but walked through what was clearly the force-field he
had been told about.  There, in the centre of the room wearing white
medical scrubs, lay LaCroix, utterly still on a gurney as though he were
a sacrifice on some altar.  In one corner was a small table, a bag of
blood--untouched--sat alone on its surface.  Even while he walked
forward, LaCroix feigned sleep.  This wasn't going to be as easy as he
thought or hoped.

He walked all the way around the gurney until he stood with his sire's
head directly in front of him.  No reaction.  He leaned over to one side
and whispered, "If you have no intention of speaking with me...I'll
leave."  He turned and immediately started back toward the room's
entrance, but heard movement behind him.

"Je ne pense pas que ce sera nécessaire...et vous?"

Nick stopped at the question, and smiled.  He turned to find LaCroix
sliding off the gurney to stand next to it.  French--not that it would
do any good against the translators available on base, but he decided he
could play along with the game, so he replied in kind, "Non, ce n'est
pas nécessaire," which elicited a smile.

"You took your time," the older man continued in French.  "Or did they
only now allow you to visit?"

Nick didn't answer, but he did move vaguely closer to his sire, keeping
close to the edge of the room while he crossed back to the other side.

"Or are you one of them now--a soldier?"

"I want you to leave, LaCroix.  Take Natalie and leave."

"In case you haven't noticed--"

"The force field isn't permanent; they have to lower it when someone
leaves.  I'm sure you've had and will have more visitors.  Please,
LaCroix."

"She will not leave without you.  Nor will I."

Nick felt angry at the expected answer, but he wasn't going to let
LaCroix simply state his reply and accept it.  He wanted the older
vampire to leave and take Natalie with him.  He wanted her to be safe.
He *needed* her to be safe.

He changed and flew straight at LaCroix, shoving his sire back hard
enough that he heard several ribs snap.  It had been so long since he
had attacked anyone, however, that his opponent easily reciprocated and
gave him a matching injury--his own set of broken, throbbing ribs.
Having mainly wanted to prevent his sire from distancing himself, Nick
regrouped and tried again.  This time he shoved his opponent face-first
into the wall and yanked one arm behind him.  LaCroix couldn't fight
back this time.

Leaning in, Nick whispered, "Take Natalie and leave.  Please.  They
won't keep you and her here like this forever.  They'll drug you--both
of you--and send you to Nellis to be their newest lab rats.  I don't
want that for her, not even for you, for that matter, but she won't
leave on her own.  I want you to get her out of here and take her to
safety--which means you need to feed."

He paused, closing his eyes and leaning further toward the other man.
He nodded toward the abandoned bag of blood and said, "It's human blood
and, yes, it's fresh, even by your standards.  I'll try to bring Natalie
closer tomorrow evening...level eighteen.  When the doctor brings more
blood, just leave, get Natalie, and get out.  Please do this for me--for
both of us--while you still can."

Nick waited a little bit longer before he let go of his sire, which only
made his broken ribs throb even more.  When the older man moved away and
turned, Nick could tell he was in pain, too.  He switched back to
English, half-ordering, "Drink the blood they bring.  It won't poison
you."

He started back to the door.  LaCroix made no attempt to follow.
Instead, he silently simmered there against the wall, glaring at him.
Nick reached his hand out, but felt stinging pain when he touched the
renewed energy barrier.  "I'm ready to leave.  Now," he said, looking
back at the other man.  He heard the force-field deactivate, at which he
walked through more confidently.  He caught a glance of the guard
reactivating it with a small, foreign-looking console on the wall before
leaving.  He headed back to his quarters, trying not to wince in pain.
Unfortunately, since he was already distracted, he wasn't able to avoid
Fraiser--he ran into her at the elevator.

"What happened?" she said when it looked like he was in pain, holding a
hand up to his side.

Unexpectedly cornered, Nick backed away.  "I'll be all right.  I just
had a little chat with LaCroix, that's all."

"And he hurt you?"

"Yeah, but...I hurt him first," he admitted, almost smiling, but only
for a second.  "Don't try to help him.  He'll heal quickly--as will
I--without your help."  He started around her, but she caught his arm
and he was forced to stop.

"Nick..."

"Please, let me go.  I didn't tell Natalie I was leaving.  I want to get
back before she wakes up...if I can."

While Fraiser didn't think the excuse was very good, she suspected
Natalie might get Nick to talk more than she could.  And he would in
fact heal, whether she treated him or not--assuming she could.  She
didn't even know how he'd been injured.  "All right.  But please let me
know if you're still in pain later."

The moment she released his arm, Nick slunk away from her.  He'd be fine
by the time she came by to deliver their next meal, but by then she
would have surely found out what happened.  He had a feeling it wouldn't
look good on video.  Worse, he had used what he was more thoroughly than
he ever had in the last five years when he had flown at and eventually
pinned LaCroix to the wall.  He didn't know how that would go over, but
he didn't care.  If they decided to send him back to Nellis or even a
lesser known facility, at least Natalie might leave.

With his thoughts forming other plans, Nick suddenly found himself back
at his quarters.  He used his key card to gain entry, only to find
Natalie standing just inside the door, looking furious.  He hated it
when she looked downright angry like this.  Now that she was a vampire,
her anger shown so intensely he almost looked away.

Natalie waited until he shut the door before asking, "Where did you go?
I woke up to the click of a door closing, and the guards wouldn't let me
leave or tell me where you had gone."

"They didn't know; I didn't tell them."

"Nick, don't--"

"I went to talk to LaCroix," he admitted and walked further into the
room, brushing rather painfully by her arm to get past her.

Natalie's anger faded somewhat at the answer, but when she turned, she
could see pain on his features.  "What did he do to you?"

"It's nothing."

"I don't care if it's nothing.  I want to know what happened."

"I shoved him up against the wall...a little too hard, I think.  He paid
me back."  Natalie glowered at his vague response, so he specified,
"Broken ribs.  I probably should have waited until closer
to...dinner...before going, but I didn't want to worry you.  And I
didn't want to run into anyone."

"You didn't tell anyone what you were planning to do, did you?" she
realised.

"No, and--lucky me--I ran into Fraiser on the way back.  And of course,
she noticed something was wrong.  I'm sure they're reviewing our
conversation by now."

"And?"

"And I don't think they'll be able to figure out most of what I said to
him...not unless there's a very sensitive microphone in that room."

"What did you tell him?"

"For one, that the blood they'd been offering wasn't poisoned."

"Are you saying he hasn't fed the whole time he's been here?"

Nick shook his head.  "I don't know about the whole time.  I only saw
one bag, but it was full and I think it's been there since at least
yesterday.  He was weak, Nat--physically weak.  I could feel it."

He looked away when she didn't immediately say anything.  He wouldn't
and couldn't tell her the rest, that he had given LaCroix a specific
time he wanted him to leave--with her.  He knew she wouldn't go with the
older man tomorrow if he told her, and he didn't want to risk tipping
anyone else off ahead of time.  LaCroix might not even do it, anyway.
And if Natalie really wouldn't leave without him, his sire would have to
literally drag her away, which meant he wouldn't be able to defend them
if need be.

"If he doesn't want it, then that's his problem."

"It's not like him to refuse blood, to ignore it," Nick said, thankful
that she hadn't pressed him about what else he might have discussed with
LaCroix.  "It's also not like him to allow himself to become weak like
this, not when there's an alternative."

"Why do you care?"

He averted his eyes again.  In truth, he cared more because of what
might happen if LaCroix--a 2,000-year-old vampire--became a research
subject than about his physical well-being.  And he wasn't sure Natalie
could get out of the facility even if she really wanted to, not without
help.

"Nick?"

"Captivity doesn't suit him," he simply answered.

"I don't think captivity suits any vampire, Nick.  Not even you."  She
could see how uncomfortable he now looked, not only from his injury, but
from their conversation as well.  Gently tugging on his arm, she said,
"Come on, let's just sit for a bit.  You probably don't want to talk
about this anyway; I know you didn't want to talk to him in the first
place."

"No, but it had to be done," he said and pulled away from her gentle
touch.

"But you didn't need to.  Why do you two always fight so much, anyway?
I mean, really?"

"Because it's the only way I thought he might possibly listen."

"Not for me.  He never hurts me when we have an argument.  Sure, he
talks and threatens, but--"

"Because you're more like him than I am.  You stand up to him better
than I ever could."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a match for him, Nat, an equal.  And he's never really had to
deal with that before."

She wanted to protest, but what Nick said did--in a way--make sense.
She didn't back down from LaCroix.  Moreover, he never really got nasty
when they argued...and when things headed that way, suddenly they
wouldn't be arguing.  She had always assumed the main reason he had
never hurt her was fear that when they did find Nick, he might do
something rash--and permanent.  LaCroix valued his own life above all
else, and they all knew Nick was strong enough to kill him.  Perhaps
even more so now.

Taking Nick's hand, she again gently pulled him forward, further into
the room, but again he resisted.  "Please, Nick, come sit with me.  I
want to spend time with you, not argue with or about LaCroix, all
right?"

Nick still worried that she would be mad if and when she found out what
he had told his sire, especially if the other man did indeed take the
opportunity he'd suggested.  If he did...Natalie would have to get her
explanation from him.

Engrossed in his own thoughts, he started upon feeling her hand on his
face and he looked at her worried features.

"I'm not mad at you for going to talk to him.  Don't worry about that.
Or that apparently you think we're alike, which, while I can kind of see
that, I hope you don't think I'm pushy like him when it comes to your
choices."

He shook his head.  "You're not, Nat, it's just that...you're strong
like him, strong-willed.  As a mortal, I'd bet he was a lot like you,"
he said, trying to smile.  He relaxed and stepped closer to his bed.  "I
meant it as a compliment," he whispered.

"I know, but it's a little..."

"Double-edged?"

"Well, yeah.  Especially since I sometimes worry about becoming like him
or being too much like him...especially after coming here."

"Like with questioning that soldier," Nick sighed as he finally sat
down.  "Who was apparently fine, didn't even remember any of it, and
even came back to work earlier than expected."

Natalie felt bad that he had to remind her about that--Fraiser had told
them the previous morning--but it made no difference at all in how she
felt about the incident.

"And if that still bothers you, then--"

"Then it's just one way I'm not like him, since we both know that he
wouldn't care at all.  I know that, but...I guess it's that I don't know
how to deal with it.  I can't ignore or dismiss the feeling, but that's
the only advice I've been given."

"And I don't deal with things appropriately, either," Nick admitted.
"I'm sorry.  I can't help you--"

"That's okay.  I suppose my biggest problem is following my own advice.
I mean, you said it yourself--I didn't do anything wrong myself, but I
was there and I can't simply wipe my memories of what we did or turn
back time."

Nick wished he could say something to comfort her, but settled for
brushing his fingers against her cheek.  He couldn't do anything more
than that, not without making this harder for both of them.

He slid back so that he sat against the wall, then pulled her back
toward him where she curled up.  "I guess...  Let's see how long it
takes for them to ask me what LaCroix and I talked about."

"That won't be long.  All they'll have to do is watch--"

"And translate," Nick added.  "LaCroix started our conversation in
French.  I went along with it, but someone will have to translate it for
them--not that it'll be difficult to find someone to do so."

He closed his eyes and the conversation came back to him.  LaCroix never
even said his name during their whole conversation.  He hadn't mentioned
Natalie by name, either, not that he had really given the other man much
chance to speak.

He had a feeling Fraiser would say something that night.

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

Fraiser didn't say anything either that evening or the following
morning, but when Nick took Natalie to Dr. Jackson's lab, he found out
who had translated their conversation.  He had expected it, but he
hadn't expected Daniel to be the one to ask him about it.  Nick soon
surmised that the bulk of their conversation hadn't been translatable;
the quick, quiet words he had spoken nearly into LaCroix' ear were a
mystery to Jackson and the others, which was exactly as he'd hoped it
would be.  When Daniel asked, Nick had merely said he had tried to
impress upon LaCroix that he had no intention of leaving.

After that, Nick had taken over a corner of the room close to the door
to work.  It wasn't his usual spot, but he had wanted both of them to be
out of the other man's way.  When it came to actually working, however,
he didn't accomplish anything.  He felt too jittery and anxious,
worrying about whether LaCroix would act--or not.

When Daniel left for dinner and possibly the day, Natalie leaned over
Nick's shoulder a bit more than she had been.  "You okay?"

"I'm just...distracted, I guess," he admitted.

"Do you want to go back..."

"No.  No, I've spent more than enough time there the last few days and
this is..."  He gestured to the photographs and scans of Ancient text.

"It's similar to Latin in pronunciation, so it reminds you of him.  It
makes you think about him," Natalie said, remembering him mentioning the
first when he had started working on it.  "And I understand that.  Maybe
you should work on something else, get your mind off him."

"No.  Beyond feeling distracted, at least I'm not completely stuck on
this.  This is actually easier for me.  I mean, Latin was one of the
languages I grew up with, even if it was a different version.  I don't
know if I ever told you, but LaCroix disliked what was then the modern
version of the language, and made me learn the Latin he knew.  For
months that was all we spoke, and the pronunciation and actual words are
so similar..."

"All the more reason to find something else to work on, at least for
now."

"It's not that much of a problem.  I just need to regain my focus."

"For how long?  It's about time for Fraiser to come by, anyway.  Are we
supposed to go to her, or--"

"She'll come to us," Nick said confidently and made another attempt to
focus on his current translation, which he was determined to actually
finish--today, if possible.  He only hoped the doctor would come there
before she went to LaCroix.  "And...Nat, I'd have more luck with this if
you wouldn't lean over me like that," he said.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, then quickly moved back to where she was,
more off to his side, where she soon became restless.  "If you'd rather
work alone...I can go back and let you stay here."

"No," Nick said and quickly turned toward her, his panic showing.  "I
want you to stay here with me."

"Then you'll have to get used to me being in the way, at least a
little," she said and tugged on his arm, smiling at him.  "Or I should
say used to it again.  I never thought it bothered you so much before.
I was the one always having to get you to back away from me, not the
other way around."

"I know, but this is hard for me, Nat," Nick said, although it was
another lie.  "It's fine having you here.  And I *will* get this done,
don't worry."

"You sure you don't want to go back for the other--"

"I'm sure.  I'll get a lot further on this.  I might even finish it
today."

Natalie noted the piddly amount of notes he had.  Compared to the couple
pages' worth of text, she didn't think that would be possible, but she
nodded.  Her choices amounted to watching him work or watching him
stare, zoned out, at a wall in his room.  At least she knew he actually
wanted to do the first.  "All right.  But if I hover too close, let me
know, instead of trying to pretend it doesn't bother you, okay?"

Nick nodded, his smile fading.  He was thankful she hadn't questioned
him after his mention that this was hard for him, his blatant lie, but
the time for Fraiser to arrive was coming closer and closer.  If LaCroix
did as he asked, it would likely be around that time...assuming his
sire's meal time and his were close, which he suspected they were.  But
if the other man still hadn't taken any of the blood...

Focused on the time, Nick managed to get more than twice as much done in
the next hour than he had in the previous six.  After Fraiser's short
visit, however, he became useless again.  Once he had drunk his
ration--again taking far longer than it should, but at least he didn't
feel as ill--Natalie started looking at him, clearly worried.  It
appeared that LaCroix wasn't coming for her as he had hoped, had
planned.  Deciding that there must have been some reasonable delay, and
his sire might yet come, Nick forced himself to go back to work, to
finish what he'd started.

As hours passed, he ignored Natalie's suggestions of returning to his
quarters and finishing tomorrow.  He finally completed the relatively
short project a little after eleven that night and entirely gave up hope
that LaCroix might still come.  His sire hadn't come for Natalie as he
had requested, had pleaded.  Reluctantly, he told a tired Natalie he was
done, that he would review and finalise his efforts tomorrow, and
together they went back to his quarters.

Any good mood from his accomplishment abruptly vanished when she
mentioned him getting so much done and asking if he planned to work in
there tomorrow.  More than anything, that innocent comment pointed out
just how little he had actually accomplished over the past several days,
but he nodded at the question.  Yes, he--and she--would be back
tomorrow.  He'd give LaCroix another chance.

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

The following day Nick again waited in Dr. Jackson's lab, but again
LaCroix didn't come.  Nick heard no rumours of any escape attempt or
otherwise unusual behaviour of the older vampire, either.  He again
managed to get a decent amount of work done, but this time he and
Natalie left Jackson's lab around nine that evening.  LaCroix apparently
wasn't even going to try.  Nick had thought his sire might come, if only
to attempt to convince him to leave with them.  He knew all too well
that, together, LaCroix and Natalie could force him out, too.  And if
his sire had come and tried to get him to leave...he probably would
have.

That night he didn't get much sleep.  The next day, after Fraiser came
with their breakfast, he and Natalie returned to Daniel's lab once more,
but within mere minutes, Nick left.  He used the excuse of wanting to
retrieve something from his room--one of the photographs containing text
he was translating that he had intentionally left behind--to leave
Natalie there.

He did actually go back to his quarters to get the photograph, but
rather than return to Daniel's lab, he headed down further into the
facility where--as far as he was aware--he still wasn't technically
allowed to go, despite the lack of guards to stop him.

It had taken longer than he expected to find General Hammond's office,
despite having been there once before.  Arriving, he paused outside the
door to listen for a moment.  The mortal was in the office--and alone.
He glanced at the hall once more to ensure he wasn't about to be ordered
back into the higher levels, and seeing it empty, he knocked.

"Come in," Hammond said and closed a report he had been reviewing.  He
looked up to see Nick Parker entering, and he instinctively tensed.

Nick could tell Hammond wasn't pleased to see him, but he entered
anyway.  Once he had the door shut behind him and took a glance at the
other--also closed--door, he started, "I'd like to talk to you,
General."

"You're not supposed to be down here without an escort, Dr. Parker."

"I know, Sir, and I'm sorry, but this won't take long."

"All right, but the next time you have something to discuss with me, I
expect you to--"

"If there is a next time, I'll do things properly," Nick said.  "I won't
just come down."

Hammond furrowed his brow, took in a deep breath and asked, "What do you
mean by 'if there is a next time'?"

"I want to be sent back to Nellis--or somewhere else if you'd
prefer--immediately."

Now Hammond leaned back.  He certainly hadn't been expecting this
request.

"I know that if Natalie stays, she'll eventually be taken away.  And
probably studied, at least to some extent.  I don't want that for her,
so I want her to leave, General.  And the only way she'll do that is if
I'm not here."

"Your request isn't that simple."

"Yes, it is.  Just put in the request--"

"If I make the request to have you removed, both she and LaCroix will
also be removed from this facility," Hammond answered, raising his voice
to cut the other man off.  "I'm sorry, but if they take you, they will
take them as well."

"But they might be taken anyway," Nick countered.  "Even if I stay
here."

Hammond slowly nodded.  "Yes."

"Then please...let her leave, or--"

"My hands are tied.  Either I have you removed--all of you--or I let
things continue the way they are."  He sighed, then added, "I'm sorry,
but that's the way it is.  I'm not exactly happy about the situation
either."

Nick felt worse now that he had realised LaCroix wasn't going to simply
take Natalie away because he wanted it.  It sounded as though there was
no possibility they would take only him.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Parker, but those are my only options."

"And what are hers?  To be taken now or taken later?"

"In all likelihood, yes, unless you can convince her to leave."

"And if I did...if she tried to leave, would she be allowed to?  Would
she be allowed to leave, considering her knowledge of this base?"

Hammond had to think a moment before answering, "While we would probably
make an attempt to stop her, she would--considering what I know about
your people--probably be able to free herself."

"So she'd essentially be let go," Nick reworded.

"More or less."

"The same with LaCroix?"

"As long as he didn't harm anyone in the process."

"And me?" Nick asked, but he saw the answer in the General's now guarded
expression.  "I wouldn't be allowed to leave as freely, would I?"

"I'm sorry, but no.  But, again, I believe it would be unlikely that we
could stop you."

"And if I left...would they come after me?"

"I honestly can't answer that.  I won't have any say in what happens to
you--or them--once you leave this base."  Hammond took in another deep
breath.  He considered telling the vampire what had been planned for
him, but it wouldn't make this easier.  When it came down to it, unless
someone could convince LaCroix to leave and not return, he believed the
three would all eventually be relocated.  And if they left...  He shook
his head slightly.  "If you can convince them to leave, then do so.  My
orders are to keep you all here, but you are the priority due to your
knowledge about the stargate--because you are a very valuable asset.
And, again, if I request that you be relocated, they'll go too.  That's
all I can say."

Nick's sense of panic hadn't faded, but at least he knew he was right.
Natalie and LaCroix would be allowed to leave as long as they left and
didn't cause too much trouble.  But he couldn't; he was more valuable.
And not something they would simply let walk away.  They would, if there
was no choice, but LaCroix hadn't even tried to force that option,
despite that he had to know he probably could.  "Thank you, General."

"I'm not sure you have anything to thank me for."

"For not having me removed from your office the moment I arrived, when
you had every right to do precisely that," Nick reminded him, then left
the office, quickly heading back to the levels above.

Hammond's gaze remained locked on the door for nearly a minute after
Parker had left.  He wished he'd had better answers or some alternative,
but all his visitor's questions had done was fill in a couple of blanks
and add a few new ones.

He, Fraiser, and Dr. Jackson had been trying to guess what Nick might
have said to LaCroix, and now he wondered if he had told the other
man--other vampire--to leave...with Natalie, if possible.  It now made
more sense why Parker was once again working in Daniel's lab all of a
sudden, and had brought her to that location--Jackson's lab was between
where LaCroix was held and the exit to the base.  And when that hadn't
worked, Nick came to him and asked to be sent away.  He wanted the two
to leave or, more specifically, for Natalie to leave.  Hammond had
learned more from Parker's questions than the other man had from his
answers.

Somewhat reluctantly, Hammond picked up his phone and dialled the
infirmary.  When Fraiser answered, he requested she come down to his
office.  When she asked why, he had simply repeated his request, telling
her it was a sensitive matter, and hung up.

By the time she knocked at his door, Hammond's thoughts had solidified
even more.  "Come."

Fraiser entered, shutting the door behind her.  "What did you want to
see me about, Sir?"

"Nick Parker just came to see me--unannounced."

She was surprised; Nick had never strayed from the designated areas, not
without either permission or an escort.  "What did he want?"

"To be sent back to Nellis.  Or, more specifically, I believe he wants
Natalie to leave, with or without permission, and he's willing to give
her an incentive to do so--or at least see that she has no reason to
stay here."

"I can see his point.  As long as he's here, I don't think she's going
anywhere, not even if she were unguarded or given the choice to be
escorted out."

"I think that's what he talked to LaCroix about.  I believe he tried to
convince him to take Natalie and leave."

"Did he say--"

"After I explained that if I had him shipped out, it would mean all of
them would go, he asked if she would be allowed to leave if she tried.
Then he asked about LaCroix and himself.  I think he already knew we
wouldn't let him go as easily; he simply wanted confirmation of his
guesses.  But he knows for sure that Natalie and LaCroix won't leave
without him.  So do we."

"You think he's going to try something," Fraiser guessed.

"I think he might.  I want you to keep a closer watch on him, and when
you get a chance, I want you to talk to Dr. Jackson.  If Parker
continues to work in Jackson's lab, he'll be able to observe them the
closest."

She nodded, but Hammond didn't say anything more.  "Is that all, Sir?"

"Unless you or Daniel can think of any other options...I believe sooner
or later they will all end up at Nellis.  And while it's Parker's best
option--not that he probably feels he has any other options--I don't
think he'll even consider leaving.  He asked if he'd be hunted
down...and I couldn't give him a good answer.  He is a valuable asset
and he's also, so far, the only vampire held captive that hasn't either
been killed or killed himself.  He also knows we know many of his
aliases...and that he is now undeniably tied to two others.  And that if
he leaves, he'll be with those others.  They'll be easy to track, and I
think he knows it."

Hammond paused and shook his head.  "And while I believe it is possible
they might all be left alone--although likely watched--he is focused
entirely on Natalie's safety.  But it's not her presence that will
eventually result in them possibly all being relocated."

"LaCroix."

"Exactly.  We cannot keep him here indefinitely, and I think we all know
he won't leave without what he came for."

"Agreed."

"If not for him, this would be much simpler--and I doubt Parker would
have come down here to talk to me.  While there is a chance Natalie
could remain here--eventually--she would probably be taken to Nellis, at
least for a time.  And he recognises her only chance of not ever ending
up at Nellis is if she leaves.  The problem is, I can only think of one
way she might leave here of her own free will, and that's if he were
dead.  It's the only way LaCroix might leave as well, short of getting
what he wants."  He met her gaze to discern what her reaction would be.

Fraiser tensed a little, but she herself had already come to that
conclusion when she had asked Hammond if she thought Nick might try
something.  That in and of itself could get him sent back...and he had
to know that.  "Do you want his guard reinstated?"

"No--not yet, anyway."

"But you want Daniel and me to keep a close eye on him."

"Yes, and I want to be informed of anything unusual."

"This isn't going to end well, is it, Sir?"

"Frankly I don't think we'll have any say in how this ends.  For now,
just keep an eye on him and let me know if he tries anything or hints
that he might.  You're dismissed."

Fraiser didn't immediately leave.  She didn't like what Hammond had told
her, but she had worried about Nick's reaction more than the General
knew.  When Nick had stopped isolating himself in his room--again--she
had assumed that was a good sign, but it sounded like it wasn't.  If he
wanted Natalie to leave...  She didn't see many scenarios where that
might actually happen.

Reluctantly she left, trying to decide when to talk to Daniel.  He could
possibly talk to Nick or--better yet--come up with another option.  She
had a horrible feeling that if Nick was sent back to Nellis, he wouldn't
last very long.  He'd get himself killed--deliberately.  And
permanently.  The same with LaCroix, but not deliberately in his case.
He would undoubtedly cease waiting patiently and try to leave--and kill
as many guards and researchers as possible, which would get him killed.
And as for Natalie--she'd be their more docile guinea pig, but she might
also be manipulated into doing research like Nick had been, assuming she
didn't snap.  Unless at least she and LaCroix could manage to leave the
base, this wouldn't end well for any of them.  And they had no motive to
leave...but every motive to stay.



A Trial Run - (28/32)

Over the next few days, little changed.  Every afternoon Nick and
Natalie made their way to Daniel's lab, where they remained until
between eight and eleven at night--long after the sun went down outside.
Otherwise, they did nothing out of the ordinary, not unless one looked
very closely.

Fraiser had noticed from watching them, especially when they were in
Nick's quarters, that he had been distancing himself from Natalie...and
they had been arguing.  She could see the signs even though he hadn't
said or done anything too telling.  He had also been drinking his meals
much quicker since his talk with General Hammond.  Despite his efforts
to hide it, she had noticed an ever-so-slight queasy expression whenever
he finished, and seen Natalie's concern as well.

She had talked to Daniel about her worries, but he didn't have many
ideas, and none that could easily be implemented.  The best solution--in
her mind--would be for Natalie and LaCroix to leave, but she didn't
think she or Daniel could convince them to do so.  More specifically,
she didn't think they could convince LaCroix.  He was the real problem.
It was clear to her that he would not leave without his son.

If they left, in time Nick would likely be allowed to leave the base.
Eventually.  Or perhaps they could get Natalie assigned to the
infirmary.  While not military, she already knew about the stargate, the
Goa'uld, the Tok'ra, probably the Asgard, and who knew what else.  And
she was a doctor and having a doctor on base at night would be something
she and Hammond could argue for.

But that would take time, and there was a chance they'd be denied.
Worse, while Fraiser believed Natalie might take the risk of not seeing
Nick either for a while or ever again, she doubted LaCroix would.  And
not only that, but LaCroix could effectively be cut off from both of
them...and this might start all over again.  And Nick was smart enough
to realise that from the start.

Daniel did come up with one idea she thought not only *would* work, but
that they'd all accept.  It would, however, be difficult to arrange.
They'd have to leave the base not through the surface exit, but via the
stargate.

The gate was relatively unguarded at night, and Nick knew enough that
Daniel thought it could be done convincingly.  The down-side was that
they could easily be followed and she didn't know if Nick would go for
it in the first place.  At best it would strand them all off-world,
possibly in a culture very inhospitable toward the three vampires.  She
had pointed that out, but Daniel had only said he had another idea that
could make the plan more acceptable.  When she had asked how, he shook
his head.  While it was probably better that she didn't know, if she
did, she might be able to do something, tell Nick something...or
Natalie.

But from watching their recent actions and arguments, Fraiser suspected
Natalie would stand little chance of convincing Nick to do anything.
The same would apply to herself or Daniel, if she had to guess.  Nick
had become absolutely absorbed in his work the last few days, finishing
everything he had started--and more.

Tonight she watched Nick and Daniel working together while Natalie
watched from a corner of the room.  She could almost see her concern,
and that bothered her.  She had noticed Natalie was able to read Nick's
mood better than anyone.

Tearing herself away from the monitors, she turned them off and gathered
her supplies to give their guests their evening meals.  She didn't go to
Nick and Natalie first, but LaCroix.  Ever since Nick's talk, he had
drunk the blood she'd brought for him rather than ignore it.  He still
ignored her, however, and only drank it after she left.

Tonight was no exception.  She arrived to find the vampire feigning
sleep.  Grimacing slightly at his stubbornness, she entered the room and
exchanged an empty bag for a full one, and then returned to the door
where she was let out.  He didn't acknowledge her presence in the
slightest.

Going to Daniel's lab next, she cautiously approached.  Only Natalie
noticed her presence, so she knocked on the open door.

Daniel looked up and saw the doctor, then glanced at his watch.  Six
thirty.  He hadn't realised how late it was.  Usually he left before
Fraiser arrived; today they had been making so much progress he hadn't
given a thought to the time.

Nick didn't look up.  Between the knock and the heeled footsteps, he
knew who their guest was.  He wasn't in the mood for blood.  Blood
wouldn't help him right now.

"You two appear to be making a lot of progress," Fraiser said, setting
her bag down over by Natalie, but getting no reaction from Nick.

"Ah, yes, we're working on something for SG-2," Daniel replied, but no
one seemed very interested.  "And I suppose I should go.  I didn't
realise it was so late."

Nick remained where he was, his attention on their work while the other
man gathered some of his things and left.

Fraiser quietly waited, then gave the blood to Natalie as usual.  "Are
you doing all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Natalie replied, her eyes darting to Nick for a moment
before coming back to the blood.

"If you'd like me to get something for you to do--"

"I'm fine, I don't need some project to--"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a book," Fraiser said, cutting
her off.

"Ah, no, but thanks anyway."

Fraiser gave her a faint smile.  "I'll see you two in the morning,
then," she said and slowly made her way back out of the room.

Natalie stared after the doctor, then stared idly at Nick's back once
they were alone.  He completely ignored her and the blood and just kept
working.  "Nick..."

"I don't want anything," he whispered, but felt her step next to him,
the blood in the bags she held calling to him almost as much as her own
blood did.  He had a plan, and while missing one meal might not make
much of a difference, it might be enough to set things in motion.
"Please, Natalie.  I don't want anything.  Not tonight...or at least not
right now.  I'll have it later."

"Once we finish here, we're going to bed, Nick.  There won't be a
'later'.  Besides, I seriously doubt you'll finish this tonight, but if
you were planning to work a while longer, then--"

"I don't think I will, or not much more.  I'm tired."

"More reason to drink--"

"Or to just finish this and go to bed," Nick said.  "I can have it in
the morning or in the middle of the night."

"I thought you liked having a schedule."

He put his pencil down at the comment.  He *did* like having a schedule,
especially for his meals, but tonight would be anything but his usual
schedule.

"Nick?"

"I do, I'm just...I'm not hungry right now.  I will be later."

"And will you then use it as an excuse not to have anything in the
morning?"

He looked right at her this time.  "No, I won't use it as an excuse
tomorrow."

She tried to determine if he was lying, but she couldn't tell.  At least
it wasn't an obvious lie.

"Please?"

"All right, but if you don't have it later tonight, you *will* drink it
in the morning."

"Thanks, Nat," he said.  He gave her a half-smile, then he almost kissed
her temple.  He pulled back at the last moment and turned back to the
work in front of him.

Natalie felt awkward at his action.  It wasn't the first time he had
done that--pulled back before kissing her--or turned away if she tried
to kiss him.  She tried to put it down to him being stressed and trying
to focus on his work, but it didn't make her feel any better.  The
distance he was putting between them hurt, and he was doing it more
often.

"We can go," he muttered, suddenly not feeling like working any more.
He could literally feel her disappointment.  They had gotten so close so
fast...  "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you don't have to apologise."

"Yes, I do," he said and turned further away from her and stepped down
from the stool.  "We can go now.  Like I said, I'm tired."

"All right, but..."  She glanced at the two bags of blood in her hand.
"Give me your shirt...jacket thing."

He turned, confused.

"I am *not* walking down the hall carrying bags of blood out in the
open, so hand it over," she ordered and held out her other, empty hand.

Nick felt a little awkward taking the extra garment off and handing it
to her, but if that was all she would worry about on their way back to
his quarters, that was fine with him.  He watched her loosely wrap the
bags in it and place it back on her arm, and then they silently left.
He hung back a little and tried to let her lead the way, but it only
made her concerned again, and so he sped up.  Once there, he'd have to
try and get some sleep.  Or at least pretend to.

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

Nick started awake not knowing the time, then forced himself to relax.
He couldn't wake Natalie, and he didn't as he woke more fully and
carefully eased out of her almost tight grip.  Half-dressed, he pulled
on a pair of fatigues, but didn't bother with socks or shoes.

Looking back at Natalie, he found her lying there so peacefully.  She
slept so soundly now that she was no longer sleeping at all during the
day.  He walked back over to the edge of the bed and leaned over,
kissing her on the temple as he had almost done earlier.  She wouldn't
remember this, which was why he did it.  Then he snuck out of his room
into the hall, again startling his guards.  Once the door closed, he
shut his eyes and listened for movement inside.  Nothing.  She hadn't
woken this time.  Opening his eyes, he focused directly on one of the
guards.

"*I'm just going for a walk,*" he said, pushing the suggestion onto the
soldier.  "*I won't be gone long,*" he added, although he didn't think
it was necessary.  Neither comment was, actually, but he wanted to
better ensure they wouldn't panic and tell someone.  Not that he had any
guarantee of that--he suspected many of the guards were resistors,
whether they knew it or not, but a simple suggestion like this--a
statement, really--would more likely be followed.  He smiled, almost
smirked, then walked away from the dazed guards.

His mood darkened as he walked, taking a direct route at first toward
Dr. Jackson's lab.  He considered actually going in, but feared he'd
lose his nerve.  He turned around at the last moment, got back in the
elevator, and headed toward the infirmary.  Rather than go in, he
continued by, finally heading to his real destination--LaCroix.

The base was nearly empty this early in the morning, and he didn't come
across anyone until he reached the guards outside the isolation room.
This time they were less caught off guard and more annoyed at his
presence, but Nick didn't care.  He continued forward until he had
passed by one of the three guards.

"If you wish to see him, you'll have to come back in the morning," one
soldier said, raising one of the alien weapons at him.

For a moment, Nick simply stared at the man.  He had no intention of
returning in the morning.  "It is morning," he pointed out.  "And I'm
not leaving."

"You will leave or you will be confined in there with him," the man
countered, nodding and half-glancing toward the isolation room.

Nick saw his chance and he rushed forward, seizing the weapon, although
he was shot with it first.  It had been a while, but he was so familiar
with the feeling that he recovered quickly and turned the weapon around
on its owner.  In three quick, successive shots, all three guards lay
still in the hall.  He closed his eyes feeling the effects of another
shot one of them had managed before collapsing.

This time he felt more numbness than pain, and keeping hold of the
weapon, he angrily started toward the door.  He almost simply entered,
but realised that if he did that, he would be trapped--and so would
LaCroix--so he took his first real glance at the controls for the
force-field--a glowing green button in the middle of a small panel.  He
pressed it and the green became red, but the shield deactivated as he
had both hoped and expected.

Nick grinned again upon entering the room, the Zat still in his grip.
This time he found LaCroix very much awake, although he had the
impression he hadn't been for long.

"Qu'est-ce que vous faites?" the older man demanded, equally angry.

"Don't bother with any games, LaCroix.  No language you know would delay
them translating our conversation," Nick said and he could see the other
man's anger only deepen.  "They know who you are.  Perhaps not
everything about you, but more than enough."

"Very well.  What are you doing here?  What is your plan?" LaCroix again
demanded, his eyes dipping to the strange device held lax in his son's
hand, one he'd seen before.  "Are you going to force me to leave by...I
suppose that must be a weapon of some sort, correct?"

"We are not going anywhere."

"Then what--"

Nick raised and activated the Zat, pointing it straight at his master.

"Are you going to kill me, Nicholas?" he asked, nearly laughing at the
absurdity.

"I want you to take Natalie away from here."

"You know you can't force me to do anything, not even that," LaCroix
casually pointed out.  "And you won't."

"I'm sorry, LaCroix, but I *can* and I *will*."

"She will not--"  LaCroix stopped speaking, this time because he had
been hit with the energy weapon.  It stung every cell and made it
impossible for him to continue speaking.  When he felt able to resume,
his son fired again and again, forcing him back in mounting agony.  He
hit a wall and it took several seconds before he could focus on his
surroundings again.  What he heard and saw made him momentarily freeze.
His son had turned the weapon on himself.  Fear and panic rising,
LaCroix rushed forward and tried to pry the weapon away.

At first he had little luck, but after several shots, the other man's
grip loosened and he managed to take the device.  It discharged another
two times in his own grip, before he released it--and the trigger he had
inadvertently pressed--and the weapon fell to the cement.  He barely had
time to catch the younger man before he crumpled to the hard floor,
utterly lifeless.  Moreover, he couldn't sense anything of his child,
who he now leaned over.

So this was how his obstinate child planned to force him to
leave...force Natalie to leave.

He glanced up toward the empty doorway upon hearing three dull
heartbeats, the only sign of life.  While tempted to make his own escape
and reluctantly fulfil his son's plan, he doubted he would get far.  He
also had no intention of abandoning either Natalie or his dying, if not
already dead, son.

LaCroix took the fact that the other man's body remained--and had not
disintegrated into ashes--as evidence that he could possibly be saved.
He bit into his own wrist and then his son's.  He held the jagged wounds
together and closed his eyes, only to feel nothing.  "No," he whispered
after waiting ten, fifteen seconds--by which time his son's body should
have somehow responded--and let go of his son's arm.  A crimson gash
marred the pale flesh, but it didn't freely bleed.  He had more blood on
his own arm...and yet his wound had already healed.

He could now hear movement in the hall, but he ignored it and sliced his
wrist again.  He tried once more to give his blood to his son, but in
moments his wound started healing.  Only *his* wound.  Not his son's.

"Back away," a guard ordered, while others assisted his downed
colleagues.

LaCroix glared at the soldier, his eyes an angry red.  However much he
wanted to kill the useless mortal, he wasn't about to give up, to flee
as his son had intended he do.  "*Get that doctor and give me your
knife,*" he ordered, but the man merely swayed where he stood, one of
the wretched weapons that had very possibly killed his son pointed at
him.

The man shook his head and repeated, "Move away from him.  Now."

LaCroix barely resisted the urge to snarl at the man.  Of course this
particular mortal had to be one he couldn't influence.  He looked down
at his son's face, at the blood-tears that had just started before he
had collapsed, then back at the young soldier.  "Please," he begged.
"Get that doctor and hand me your knife so that I can help him."

The man hesitated, then backed away and eventually out of the room.

LaCroix glared at the mortal the entire time, and when the force-field
reactivated, he looked down at his child once again.  Never before had
he felt such pain, such loss, such an agonising void.

He had nearly decided to fly at the force-field when the worthless
soldier returned.  A knife held out, handle toward him, made him pause.
Perhaps this mortal wasn't so worthless.  Silently thankful, he took it,
then used it on both his son's arm and his own, creating much deeper and
cleaner wounds.

Still, his efforts seemed all for naught.  More blood ended up on the
floor than in the younger man, but since his own wound hadn't yet
healed, he didn't let go.  He couldn't bear to lose his son, not now.
He had not endured this dreadful isolation to have it end like this, so
he pleaded, "You must fight, Nicholas!  If not for yourself, then for
her, for Natalie.  What you believe to be self-sacrifice will result in
nothing but pain.  You must fight this and allow me to help you.  You
must return to us.  You *must*."

Fraiser arrived in the isolation room they were holding LaCroix in to
find him kneeling on the ground next to Nick, whispering in a soft but
urgent tone.  Getting closer, she could see a knife on the ground and
bright red blood on the older man's white scrubs, pale skin, and even
the floor.  He had his hand entwined with Nick's much as she had seen
Natalie do, but then there hadn't been much, if any, excess blood.
Something was wrong...terribly wrong.

LaCroix shot another glare at the next mortal who entered--Dr. Fraiser.
She approached him--but didn't get too close.  "Can you save him?" he
asked, still not releasing his son's arm.

"I can't tell until I know what happened.  And I need you to back away."

While he didn't want to do so, LaCroix finally released his son's arm.
He scooted back a little way before he stood.  He glared at the mortal
doctor, displeased at having to depend on her, but after a moment, he
stepped back and away.

"Thank you," Fraiser said and she moved forward, kneeling beside Nick
with her bag next to her.  "Now tell me what happened."

"Don't you know?"

"I was woken and told I was needed here.  No one told me what happened."

"He came here with that weapon," LaCroix said, nodding to the Zat that
lay just out of arm's reach on his son's right side.  "He used it on me
first, then turned it on himself.  Repeatedly.  I couldn't stop him
until I recovered."

Fraiser didn't like what she heard, nor what she saw.  She couldn't get
any kind of response from Nick, and was dismayed to see the barely
bleeding wounds on his arm, one of which was very deep and more of a
gash than a simple cut.  She had to get him to the infirmary--now.  "How
many times?" she asked, turning her attention to LaCroix.  He looked
frightened--almost panicked--and nearly out of it.  "How many times did
he shoot himself?"

"I don't know!"

"Guess."

LaCroix closed his eyes.  He didn't know, but he tried to think.  He
himself had been shot three times, then disoriented for longer than
those shots had taken.  At least two or three more before he had gotten
to the weapon, then another two...  "At least seven or eight times."
Then he remembered what he had heard in the hall before that.  "And ask
my guards how many times they shot him...probably at least once or twice
before he even made it into the room."

Fraiser really didn't like that sound of that, especially since his
estimates were both prefaced with 'at least'.  She had no idea what
happened to a vampire who'd been shot by a Zat past the point at which
they became unconscious, but she knew that must have happened to Nick.
He had definitely been hit more times in a short span than he ever had
previously, and while the worst he had suffered in the past was
unconsciousness, she had a feeling that a Zat could indeed kill a
vampire--permanently. 

Carefully she stood and went to the doorway, where she ordered one of
the guards to go for assistance.  Right at this moment, only one staff
member who knew about vampires was on duty, which was a problem.

"Can't you do something?  Isn't that what you doctors do?"

"I will do everything that I can," Fraiser told him.  "But I can't do it
here."

"You may take my blood," he stated.  "He will need it if he is to
recover."

"My priority is getting him to the infirmary.  Unless you know how to
draw blood..."

LaCroix looked away.  He had acquired only a very rudimentary
understanding of such matters during his long life.  And he had
certainly never willingly given away his own blood, except in rare
circumstances.  And he'd never needed assistance to do so.

"If I can't drop by to take you up on your offer myself, someone else
will--but only if you will fully cooperate with them.  Will you?"

"Of course I will," LaCroix sneered.  "I will do anything you ask if it
will save him."

Fraiser sighed and turned her attention back to her patient.  She didn't
think Nick was breathing, but she had noticed that other times he had
been unconscious.  While she didn't think it would do any harm for now,
she wasn't about to delay returning to the infirmary.  As she looked
down, the nurse she had requested had arrived at LaCroix' cell and moved
to a position beside her.  Together, she and the other woman worked
quickly to transfer Nick onto a gurney.  The doctor kept glancing up at
LaCroix to make sure he was staying back.  She still had the impression
he was frightened to the point that he looked ill.  If he were human,
she would guess he was in shock.  In little over a minute, she directed
the soldiers out and picked up both the Zat and the bloody knife.

Finally LaCroix was alone, left to face his troubled thoughts and the
sickly smell of his own wasted blood.



A Trial Run - (29/32)

Natalie woke having no idea why, only to find herself alone.  She had
gone to the door and learned that Nick had supposedly gone for a walk.
When she asked when, the soldier's eyes glazed over a little.  Nick had
done something to him, which hadn't calmed her thoughts at all.
Something felt wrong...very, very wrong.  Precisely what was wrong,
however, she had no idea.

She paced, planning to chew Nick out the moment he returned.  He had
left and hadn't touched his dinner from the previous night.  When she
heard footsteps, the guards shift, and then finally a key-card, her mood
lit up, only to drop the moment the door opened to reveal the
dark-skinned alien Nick had told her about.

"You will come with me," Teal'c said.

"Where's Nick and where are you planning to take me?  Has something
happened?"

"I was told not to tell you until you arrived," he responded evasively.

"Where are you taking me?" she tried again.

"The infirmary."

Natalie wasn't pleased to hear that, but it got her moving and she
followed Teal'c out of Nick's room.  She couldn't think of any good
reason she'd be called to the infirmary, not with Nick missing.  It
could only mean that either he or LaCroix had been hurt.  That was all
she could think about.  When she arrived, however, she froze at seeing
Nick...or more specifically the monitors attached to him.  No brain
function.  Granted, she had seen that before, but this was different.
Fraiser was far more worried this time and she couldn't sense that Nick
was even in the room.  "What the hell happened?  Did LaCroix--"

"He used a Zat on himself, I'm not sure how many times, but it could
have killed him.  I need you to tell me if a pacemaker would harm him."

Natalie stared, then approached, her eyes finally drifting fully toward
Nick.  His shirt had been cut open, and--

"Now, Natalie.  I've waited long enough already and he's not responding
to other treatment.  I need to know if it will harm him if--"

"No, I don't think so," she answered, stepping a little closer, her eyes
still on Nick.

Fraiser turned away from her patient for the first time.  She had a
feeling she would be reprimanded for what she was about to do, but she
had seen the effects of vampire blood and that was the real reason she
had asked Teal'c to bring Natalie to the infirmary.  "I want you to take
my bag.  Teal'c will take you to LaCroix, where I want you to take as
much of his blood as you can for me to give to Nick.  Everything you
need should be in the bag."  Now she turned to Teal'c.
"Teal'c...accompany her into his room.  If he doesn't immediately
cooperate, bring her back."

Natalie felt first numb--then queasy--as she left the infirmary.  She
had to follow Teal'c since she had no idea where LaCroix was being kept.
She worried what the older vampire would say to her about having
cooperated with Fraiser and the soldiers.  It didn't help that she had
never thought of LaCroix as a willing donor.  He only gave his blood
when either absolutely necessary or, more typically, if he got something
in return.

Reaching a guarded section of hallway, Natalie again felt nervous.  The
dark-skinned alien stepped to the side and gestured for her to walk
first, which was even harder for her, especially when told to enter the
room.  It felt strange, like a lingering static charge in the air, when
she passed through the doorway, but only for a moment.  Then she was
inside and her focus centred on LaCroix.

He stood against the far wall, wearing white scrubs that had been
stained with splotches of blood on the one side.  More blood lay on the
floor closer to where she stood.  It was all his, if she had to guess.

Approaching him, she tried to ignore his glare.  "Come over here and lie
down," she said, staying closer to a gurney--the only thing even
resembling a bed.  He didn't move.  "Please, LaCroix.  Fraiser sent me
to get blood for Nick."

Reluctantly, he obeyed.  It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he hadn't
expected Natalie to be the one sent to take his blood.  He hadn't
expected to be allowed to see her at all.  After approaching, he lay on
the gurney and closed his eyes.

While she wished LaCroix would say something--like tell her what had
actually happened--that wasn't what she was there for.  Sighing, she
started going through Fraiser's bag, hoping she would actually have
everything she needed.  She did, and she silently went about the primary
task of drawing his blood.  She didn't bother with gloves or sterilising
the area, simply to cut down on the time since it wasn't strictly
necessary.  He twitched uncomfortably when she inserted the needle into
his arm, which she found a little odd, considering he hadn't reacted
when she had tied the tubing around his upper arm.

LaCroix kept his eyes shut as he felt his blood ever so slowly leaving
his body, making him remember how his son's body had refused to accept
it.  "How is he?"

Natalie pursed her lips at the whispered question.  "I don't know.  Not
good."

"But he'll recover?"

"I don't know."

"In your opinion--"

"I don't know, LaCroix!" she repeated.  "I only vaguely even know what
happened, and all I know about Nick is that Fraiser is a lot more
concerned now than she was when they brought him back here."  She paused
then, before he could ask some other question, and added, "And you
probably know more about what happened than I do, like why on earth he
did this.  Or what he did, for that matter."

She looked down at the bag, only to be disappointed at how slowly this
was going.  It had never bothered her when she had taken Nick's blood to
test, but this wasn't for some pet project; this was to save his life.
Besides, this time she didn't need just a sample, she needed a *lot* of
blood, and not only that, but she needed it *now*.

LaCroix continued to lie there, waiting and becoming more tired as the
minutes passed.  When Natalie started moving the line, he started to sit
up, but a hand pushed him back.

"I want to get more if I can," she mumbled and switched out the bags.

He closed his eyes again, and after a few minutes told her, "He did this
to force us to leave, to force *you* to leave."

"I'm not going *anywhere*," Natalie replied stiffly.

"Even if he dies?"

"He is *not* going to die," she said more firmly, and believed it.  She
wasn't going to let Nick die, and she didn't think Fraiser would,
either.  The question about the pacemaker told her that, although she
worried a little.  Vampires were not the same as humans, but she didn't
think their systems could be overstimulated.  And a pacemaker wouldn't
be enough if he was already near death.  But, then, if she was right,
Fraiser had already tried a defibrillator and stimulants.  Nick wasn't
going to spontaneously heal.  He wasn't responding to other treatment,
and by what she could see here, blood alone wouldn't help.  He needed to
be stabilised in some manner--which the pacemaker would hopefully help
with.  And he needed blood--LaCroix' blood, specifically.  Or hers, but
LaCroix' blood would be more healing than even her own because he was
who had brought Nick across.

Looking at the bag again, she just wasn't getting enough, and she knew
why--LaCroix wasn't the healthiest of vampires at the moment.  Nick had
made some comment about him not feeding, not to mention the blood on his
clothes and the floor.  No wonder this was taking so long and she had
stalled at a bag and a half, not even a litre of blood.  She had fully
expected to get a full litre, if not more, but it wasn't worth it to
wait.

She undid the tourniquet, then removed the needle.  She carefully laid
the blood in the medical bag, then started to leave, only to have her
arm caught.  "I have to go, LaCroix.  I'll do everything I can to help
him.  You know that."

LaCroix slowly released her arm, then let his eyes close while she
walked off.  He felt dizzy and weak, and knew he wouldn't be able to do
this again without a substantial meal or two.

Natalie ran straight into the force-field, not realising it wouldn't let
her through this time.  She was freed a moment later, but felt jittery
from being shocked by the strange barrier.  Unsteady for a few seconds,
she walked slowly until Teal'c passed her.  She had to get back to Nick,
where Fraiser knew she'd probably want to donate her own blood as well.

By now Natalie thought she was prepared to see him and not freeze
up--but she was wrong.  Back in the infirmary, Nick looked even worse.
He had been intubated, but at least the monitor appeared more
normal--almost human normal, which at least meant he was getting oxygen.

She found Fraiser examining an x-ray of his chest, specifically his
heart.  She had thought the doctor would have used an external
pacemaker, but based on the x-ray, she had gone one step further.  While
the device itself lay outside Nick's body, the super-thin leads had been
carefully guided into his heart.  It wasn't the best solution, and she
personally would have chosen the less invasive method, but this was more
precise, and being a vampire, Nick would heal quickly if the device
helped as hoped.  "Is something wrong?" she asked when Fraiser hadn't
turned to acknowledge her presence.

Flipping off the light behind the film, Fraiser turned.  "No, everything
went well.  Did he cooperate with you?"

"Yeah, but he needs blood to replace what I took...and what he lost
trying to...  I couldn't get as much as I'd hoped for."  Natalie handed
over the medical bag and watched the doctor pull out the two bags of
blood.

"It's a good start, but--"

"You'll want more, I know, starting with mine."

"Yes.  And hopefully he'll respond to the blood now."

"He wasn't earlier, was he?" Natalie asked, recalling the crimson stains
she had seen in LaCroix' cell.  "LaCroix tried to give him his
blood...but it didn't work."

"No, I don't think it did.  And I should warn you that this might not
work, either."

"But you'll try, right?"

"Yes, I'll try, although if he wakes...  One condition of his staying
here was that he not harm either himself or others.  By doing this, he
has not only cut his stay here short, but yours as well."

Natalie abruptly felt panicked again.  "How short?"

"I don't know.  My recommendation will be that he remain here at least
until he is fully recovered, but depending upon his behaviour..."

"And if he fully recovers..."

"Yes.  That weapon...I'm not even sure exactly what it did to him, but
the damage is primarily to his nervous system."

"Haven't you--"

"Two shots with a Zat will kill a human or Jaffa almost without fail.
Three..."  She shook her head. "Vampires seem to be very different from
humans in regard to that particular weapon.  Nick took far more shots
than that, more than he ever has before, so I have no idea what to
expect in terms of how it might affect him--assuming he survives."  She
took a deep breath and nodded to one of the gurneys.  "Now, lie down.
Once I set this up, I'll be right over."

Natalie reluctantly did as requested, taking the gurney closest to where
Nick lay.  She didn't take her eyes off him.  He looked so very weak and
pale.  She hoped he'd recover fully.  She didn't know what she'd do if
he didn't.

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

Natalie closed her eyes while Fraiser took her blood for the second time
that morning.  She didn't care much for the sensation, but the mortal
doctor clearly thought their blood was helping Nick.  She still couldn't
sense his presence, not even when she touched him, and he didn't react
to any kind of stimulus.

It was almost four hours now since Nick had shot himself.  Waiting,
either lying down nearby or standing closer, Natalie had seen and heard
General Hammond talking to Fraiser on two occasions.  As the doctor had
said, Nick would be returning to Nellis.  While this could be good
news--she at least knew where he was going--the caveat was that she and
LaCroix would also be going.  Natalie had mixed feelings about that.
She wanted to go wherever Nick went, but she didn't want to be separated
from him.  And once at Nellis, they wouldn't have much chance at
escaping.

Then there was Dr. Jackson, who had said something interesting to
Fraiser in hushed tones, but Natalie didn't know what to make of it.
Something about waiting for some sort of response, but he didn't say to
what.  She didn't know if it was even relevant to her or Nick.  It might
have been some unrelated comment, but it had sounded strange to her and
stuck in her thoughts...maybe because she hadn't really overheard much
that didn't pertain to her or Nick, especially within close proximity.

"All right, Natalie, that's all for now," Fraiser said before removing
the tourniquet and then the needle.

"But I feel fine."

"You look and sound sluggish and I have now taken a total of almost
three litres of blood from you.  I don't even need this yet, either.
It's time for you to rest."

"But it is working?"

"Yes, it appears to be, albeit slowly.  I'm sorry, but at this point,
all we can do is wait."

"If it's working..." Natalie thought aloud.  "Do you know how soon
they'll send us to Nellis?"

"Not specifically, no."

"But?"

Fraiser hesitated.  She really shouldn't answer, but she said, "My
recommendation was not to move Nick--or any of you--until his condition
has stabilised.  But it probably won't be more than a few days."

"But it could be less?"

"The timing will likely depend upon whether his condition improves or
not, and how much he improves.  For now, I don't believe he would
survive if taken off life-support, and until those measures are stopped,
he will almost assuredly remain here.  He will also probably remain here
as long as I'm giving him your blood--as long as he can't take human
blood--but that's less of a guarantee.  Again, right now all we can do
is wait."

Natalie wasn't particularly pleased with the answer.  What if Nick
didn't improve?  Would Fraiser be ordered to stop not only giving him
her and LaCroix' blood, but also the pacemaker and oxygen?  Without the
last two, his body wasn't capable of accepting the first, and without
blood, there was little chance he would heal.  Or would they simply
transfer them all, anyway?

"I want you to rest.  Try to sleep if you can.  I'll wake you if
anything changes, all right?"

Natalie didn't say anything, but after a few seconds, she nodded.  What
else could she do?  She could pace, but that wouldn't help anyone.  If
the last few hours were any indication, Nick wouldn't wake for at least
several more hours.  And she did feel tired, even though she had drunk
nearly as much blood as she had given.  She decided her weariness was
probably a combination of only getting a few hours of sleep and it now
being nearly dawn.

Once Fraiser moved off, Natalie curled up on her side so that she was
facing Nick.  After repositioning her small pillow, she closed her eyes
and tried to set aside her worries.  Nick would be fine.  Everything
would be fine once he woke.

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

Natalie slept only a few hours, and awoke to discover that Nick's
condition had barely improved.  His body was accepting and utilising the
blood much more quickly, however.  By now Fraiser had taken more from
LaCroix, but she hadn't run out of blood to give to her patient.  The
most promising sign, to Natalie at least, was that Nick almost appeared
to be dreaming.  His eyes moved occasionally under his closed lids.
Fraiser had done other tests, however, and he still didn't respond to
pain stimuli, nor did his eyes react to light.

The drawn-out waiting had gotten to Natalie at that news, and rather
than wait nearby, she had withdrawn to a corner of the room and sat on
the floor, knees up to her chest and arms wrapped around them.  The
doctor had left her alone...so had Hammond when he came in for another
update.  Both their glances made her feel helpless.

Not long after Hammond left, Nick had been moved from the infirmary to
another room, the base's equivalent of a private hospital room, or so it
appeared.  Natalie had gone with him, but now she had nowhere other than
a stool, an uncomfortable metal chair, or the floor on which to rest, so
she began pacing.  Fraiser had also deemed his condition stable enough
that they had been left alone, except for when either she herself or a
nurse came to check on him.  The change made Natalie feel more nervous
and more trapped.  She felt as if they were in some prison cell or, she
should say, it exacerbated the feeling.

Like in the infirmary, eventually she sat, not on the chair or stool or
even on the side of Nick's bed, but on the floor in a corner.  When the
nurse came in, she had been startled and concerned.  Unlike Fraiser, the
woman tried to comfort her.  It didn't help.  Broad comforts like that
only reminded her of the really bad cases, where the patient would soon
be, or already was, dead.

She only felt mildly better when day became evening again, and then
midnight had come.  Fraiser had taken her blood again--and more from
LaCroix--and mentioned on one of her visits that she had seen Nick's
eyes open.  It was mixed news.  Natalie hadn't noticed; she still
couldn't sense that he was there, unless the false life-signs the
machines created counted.  And it took dozens of times of saying his
name before she could get him to look at her, for his eyes to settle on
her for any amount of time.

Obviously, he couldn't answer since he had been intubated, but neither
she nor Fraiser managed to get him to answer any questions by blinking
his eyes or squeezing one of their hands.  The latter Natalie suspected
was related to his pain responses--still he didn't react, and she
suspected that he couldn't move even if he tried.

Nearly panicked with concern, she stayed beside him only when he seemed
to be vaguely awake.  When morning of the next day arrived, she first
paced, then curled up on the floor again with her head resting on her
hands and knees.  When the door opened, she ignored the visitor,
figuring it was just another nurse.  She knew without looking up that it
wasn't Fraiser.  The heavy footsteps had to be a man's, and to her
surprise, the footsteps approached her rather than Nick.  She snapped
her eyes up as the man squatted down to her level.

"I want to talk to you about something," Dr. Jackson whispered.  "And it
would be better if you don't make any comments other than yes or no...or
something random."

Natalie's lips parted in confusion, then somewhere up behind him she
noticed a camera and his odd request suddenly made more sense.  His back
would be in the frame, but from her current position, she would be
clearly in focus.  Fumbling, she mumbled, "I'm fine."

"Okay, good.  Now, I've been trying to think of a way to get
you--specifically him, but all of you--out of here, and--"

"What?" she breathed, stunned.

"Please, just listen.  You remember what you saw when he was first
brought back, the symbiote?"

Natalie ever so slightly nodded.

"Well, the Tok'ra have wanted to express their gratitude for what he did
for their colleague, going to such extremes like that to save one of
their kind.  And I took that opportunity to ask for their help."

Natalie's brow furrowed, not understanding how these aliens could
possibly help their situation.

"As you know, mythology doesn't exactly paint your people in a positive
light, and, in general, other civilisations that are either far more
primitive or more highly advanced would probably clash with at least one
of you."  Daniel paused to let that sink in, and when it had, he
continued, "So even though Nick theoretically has enough knowledge to
escape through the stargate, I'm not suggesting that you take up
permanent residence somewhere off-world.  Instead, I have
asked--although not through official channels--if one of our Tok'ra
allies would be able and willing to pick all three of you up...and then
bring you back to Earth discretely...by ship."

Natalie pursed her lips, but nodded ever so slightly.

"You should know that Hammond doesn't know anything about this, and
Fraiser only knows my initial thoughts.  What I need from you is a quick
decision on whether this is something you'd be interested in for when I
get a response from the Tok'ra."
 
Natalie felt stunned again, and she faintly shook her head then blinked.
"Yes, but..."  She glanced over at Nick.  It had already been over a
full day, and he had only begun to show signs of recovering.

"That's all I need to know--if you're interested or not."

"Nick's..."  She trailed off before saying anything more.

"Fraiser did say he was recovering, right?"

"He...it's slow.  Right now, he's essentially in a coma, barely
responsive.  He hasn't..."  Natalie bowed her head again, partly to
regain her focus and partly to speak so that only Jackson could hear
her.  "It'll take some time for him to recover.  What if it takes too
long?"

"If he's lucid and as long as you're on this level..."

"As long as we're here, you mean," she almost hissed.

"There is that, but...  I'm not likely to get an immediate response
anyway, but I did say I needed to hear back within two days with their
suggestion for a meeting place."

"A meeting--" Natalie started, but stopped and looked up, confused.

"So no one can follow you and bring you back here, you'll have to make
at least two trips through the gate.  Once to get off Earth, and then
again to get to another location so we can't simply follow.  In other
words, where you go from here won't be where they'll pick you up.  I'll
try to explain it better later, but you won't be able to leave anyway
until he's awake and at least lucid.  If he's not, they'll know someone
helped you.  In the meantime, I'll keep checking with Fraiser, and you
should know that if I can delay them removing you before you have a
chance to leave, I will."

Natalie didn't know what to say, so she merely muttered, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet."

"Will I get a chance later?"

"I hope so," Daniel said, standing.  "And I hope he recovers quickly."

Natalie felt a bit odd once she was again alone.  Dr. Jackson was going
to or was trying to help them--all of them--leave.  Closing her eyes,
she could almost hear LaCroix telling her it was a trap, but Nick had
told her more than once that these were good people.  She had to tell
Nick about this, but to do so, he had to wake up--really wake up--and be
able not only to look at her, but to respond to her questions.

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

That day Natalie didn't feel any better.  She fell asleep at some point,
only to wake and discover Nick still unconscious--completely
unconscious.  Fraiser had tried twice that day stopping his life-support
measures--without success, but he *had* started reacting ever so
slightly to pain.  The down-side was that the couple of times she had
seen him semi-awake, he hadn't been able to focus on her for any length
of time, and couldn't respond to any of her questions or requests.
Other than sharing that information, Fraiser had been rather quiet,
which hadn't helped Natalie's mood.

As night fell, she hovered over Nick more often, hoping and waiting for
some sign--any sign--of real improvement, then curled up out of the way.
He had made the most progress during the night before, and she hoped and
now expected the same would be true tonight.  Moreover, Fraiser had
started giving him fresh human blood, alternated with hers and LaCroix'
during the day.  Nick appeared to be tolerating it, but she suspected
that it hadn't sped up his progress in the slightest.

She had paced on and off, at one point catching him awake.  During those
few precious seconds, he had managed to look at her and actually kept
his attention on her.  He looked so utterly confused, while she herself
felt equally incapable of helping him.  His brief confusion ended with
him passing out, a weird cringe lingering on his features.  She hadn't
liked seeing that, but had to remind herself that it still counted as an
improvement.

Waiting, she alternately paced and checked on her companion, and
eventually in the early morning hours, she caught him awake again.  As
before, she called his name, and this time he quickly focused in on her.

"Nick?" she repeated, and his attention didn't stray.  The strange,
confused expression returned.  "Damn it, Nick, what were you thinking?"
she asked, not really expecting much of an answer, but his eyes strayed
a little, and in a way she recognised.  "Do you understand what I'm
saying?" she tried again, and he looked at her.  "If you do, then blink
or squeeze my hand--once for yes and twice for no," she said and gently
tugged on his fingers.  His fingers didn't return the tug, but after a
long pause, he managed to blink--once.  She sighed and closed her eyes
for a moment in relief.  "Do you have any idea just how pissed I am
right now?"

While Nick still felt disoriented, he understood her question, as well
as why she'd be mad.  He blinked again; he couldn't do much else.  He
couldn't squeeze her hand--he couldn't even feel her hand or move his
fingers.  He had no idea if his head was being deliberately immobilised
or if he was simply incapable of turning his head one way or another.
And on top of everything else, he felt like he was gagging.

Receiving the answer she'd hoped for--or as much as one as she'd get
right now--Natalie sighed to dispel some of her anger.  "You better not
ever do anything like this again.  I don't care what happens.
We'll...we'll talk later, all right?"  She saw another blink, but it
seemed forced.  He almost looked panicked, and any lingering anger
vanished, replaced instantly by concern.  "Nick?  Something's wrong,
isn't it?"

He blinked again--once.

"What's...  That's a stupid question; you can't answer that..." she
started then mumbled, this time thinking a moment before asking, "Is it
the tube?"

Nick tried to shake his head, forgetting what she had said earlier on
how to say no.

Seeing confusion, Natalie guessed, "Not that then."  Her eyes dropped
from his face and to his chest and she asked, "What about your chest?
Your heart or lungs or--"

She stopped, seeing his confused look deepen.  She supposed that was a
good thing.  At least the pacemaker wasn't making him hurt.

"Come on, give me a clue," she said when he continued to stare up at
her, pulling his hand up and expecting to get a squeeze back.

His eyes went to her hand holding his own.  He could barely see her
hand...but felt nothing, and he blinked once.

"What?" she asked.  "Yes to...what?"

He again tried to squeeze her hand, but she didn't react.  He darted his
eyes from her face to their hands, then repeated it, hoping she'd make
some connection.

"Nick?  What..." she started, then let her eyes go to where he was
trying to indicate--their hands.  It still didn't sink in right away,
but she whispered, "You can't squeeze my hand, can you?"

This time he blinked twice, but he could see her worry.  It worried her
about as much as this worried him.  He didn't want to be trapped like
this.

"Okay.  I'll be right back, as in right, right back or not more than a
few minutes.  I'm going to get Fraiser here one way or another."

She turned and went to the door, and as half-expected, her path out of
the room was blocked.  "Get Dr. Fraiser.  She needs to see something."

She waited in the doorway until one of the soldiers walked off, then
re-entered the room.  She eyed Nick as she slowly headed back to his
side, fearing he had passed out again.  He hadn't, which was almost
worse, since she had no way to comfort him.

It took a good five minutes or so before Fraiser arrived.  Then, Natalie
ended up pacing while the other woman performed a few quick tests that
only confirmed what they both already knew--Nick was fully conscious,
but couldn't move much of anything.  The doctor had then taken more of
Natalie's blood to give to him, and as she did so, she also explained
more fully how the alien weapon worked and that it was probably why his
nervous system had been so severely damaged.

Natalie felt even worse after the explanation, and had a hard time
drinking anything to replace the blood that Fraiser had drawn.  Nick had
passed out at some point while the mortal had drawn her blood, and she
felt bad about that, especially since neither of them had noticed when
it happened.  Fraiser decided to start checking in on them more often,
even though Natalie had contacted her at two in the morning and the
other woman was surely tired.

The extra blood soon paid off.  Along with waking up and being able to
respond to both of them, Nick's damaged nerves slowly started to
recover.  Once his fingers and toes reacted to being pricked and he was
able to move more than his eyelids--although not much--Fraiser tried
once more to discontinue the life-support measures...and this time, it
worked.  She didn't remove either the pacemaker or breathing tube in
case he showed any sign of a setback, but he didn't even come close to
passing out.

Natalie's mood improved greatly at that, even though Nick himself still
looked miserable.  She didn't blame him, but she agreed with Fraiser's
decision to keep those items in place, at least for the time being.  He
needed to heal further, so she tried to leave him alone in the hope that
he'd sleep, or at least rest.



A Trial Run - (30/32)

While Nick did eventually fall asleep, so did Natalie, and she remained
asleep when Fraiser decided to remove both the tube and the pacemaker.

After allowing her patient a minute to adjust to more normal functions,
she gave him the choice of blood or water to drink.  He had chosen the
blood despite not feeling hungry, unsure how he would react to water.
The blood had been Natalie's, judging by the taste, which he hadn't
expected.

After the pacemaker was removed, Nick had felt uncomfortable and feared
passing out at first.  But at least he had recovered enough that he
could finally move a little--but only a little.  Fraiser had had to hold
the cup for him to drink the couple swallows of blood.  Then it took
several attempts and her help to reposition himself on his side.  She
hadn't been pleased by his change of position, nor was she happy when he
reached for the electrode leads attached to his skin.  She had stopped
him before he had managed to pull even one off, and he was far too
exhausted and achy to try again.

He had turned on his side so that he could watch Natalie, who lay curled
up on the floor with a pillow and looked so very worried.  Eventually,
after the doctor rolled something away from where he lay, Nick
whispered, his words sounding slurred to his own ears, "When are they
sending us to Nellis?"

"It's not final..." she started, then admitted, "But probably tomorrow,
sometime after sunrise and before sunset.  If not tomorrow, then--"

"Then the next day for sure," he finished.  "Can't you do something?
Keep them from taking her--or stall them somehow?"

"I think you know I can't.  I'm sorry, but your actions took any choices
we might otherwise have had out of our hands.  And if you even try
anything like that again before then, I'll be forced to sedate you right
then and there...and Natalie and LaCroix as well this time.  I honestly
don't want to do that, and I don't think you want me to, either."

Finishing with tidying up some of the now unused equipment, she moved in
front of him once again.  "Now, I want you to get some sleep...and I
mean it.  If I have to stay in here--"

"You don't have to stay," he whispered.  "I won't try anything."

Fraiser sighed.  The comment didn't reassure her, but she suspected
she'd hear very quickly from Natalie if he did.  She also didn't think
he was strong enough to do anything beyond--perhaps--yank the IV out of
his arm.  So far he hadn't even bothered to look at it, much less pull
it out.

"I'll be back later.  Let Natalie know if you need anything," she said,
gently touching his arm.

Nick closed his eyes at the touch, keeping them closed until the mortal
had walked away and left the room.  Once her footsteps faded, he again
looked at his sleeping companion.  She hadn't woken yet, for which he
was grateful; she would have worried about him too much.  He didn't know
how long she had been sleeping, but she must need it if she hadn't woken
while Fraiser had been there.

Feeling weak but not truly tired, he closed his eyes to rest.  It only
made him feel even more stressed.  Tomorrow or the next day--that was
all the time he had left there with Natalie.  He didn't even know what
had happened, other than that LaCroix was still there.  The older
vampire hadn't taken the chance to leave like he should have.  He hadn't
even saved himself.  And Natalie...

Nick had to open his eyes to make sure she was still there.  He couldn't
sense her presence--or LaCroix', for that matter, even though he knew
his sire was held nearby.  While he was undoubtedly healing, the weapon
had done more lasting damage than he expected.  Granted, what he had
expected was for the alien weapon to kill him.  He hadn't really even
thought about what would happen if his plan didn't work.  He wasn't
supposed to survive; his death was supposed to free Natalie from her now
certain fate.

He shut his eyes again and tried to curl up more than he already was,
but every slight move was painful and took strength that he simply
didn't have.  He did manage to turn a little more on his side, however.
He also moaned, despite his attempt to suppress it.  He heard movement
and opened his eyes and saw Natalie stirring.

She slowly woke to find his eyes on her.  He looked so different, so
weak, and so very miserable, but at least he no longer looked like he
was dying.  "Nick..."

"Go back to sleep," he whispered.

The full sentence and apparent ease with which he replied didn't
reassure her, and instead prompted her to her feet.  She walked over to
him and moved to touch his hand, but stopped when she saw him flinch.
"What's wrong?"

"Fraiser said they'll be taking us away either tomorrow or the next
day."  He closed his eyes again, then added, "I'm so sorry, Nat.  I
didn't mean for this to happen...to you, or to any of us."

"I'd rather you say you were sorry for *this* than for what I think
you're actually saying it for," she whispered back, hoping her anger
wouldn't come through her words, but even she heard it in her tone.  She
didn't want to argue, and so moved nearer and told him in an even softer
whisper, "We might have a way out, Nick."

"No," he whispered and shook his head ever so slightly.

"Yes, and it doesn't involve you trying to force me to leave you behind.
Dr. Jackson is--or was--working on something.  A plan to get us out of
here."

"It's not possible," Nick muttered.

"Maybe not sneaking past security to get to the surface, but he seems to
think you know enough to get us out--all of us, including
LaCroix--another way.  And not only that, but he has a plan to get us
back to Earth somehow as well.  He asked if I'd be interested, and I
told him I am...and I hope you are, too."

"But, Nat, I don't know enough to--"

"He said he'd explain more fully to one of us when he gets a chance, and
if they're possibly sending us away tomorrow, he'll have to do it today.
He'll know by now that you're awake and--"

"But I can barely move.  I certainly can't walk or--"

"Not *yet*, you can't.  But you're in much better shape than you were
before, and I really think you should hear him out before discounting
anything.  And don't mention it to anyone else, and don't even say
anything to me unless I'm turned away from the camera like I am now."

Natalie waited for a response, expecting it in the form of another
protest, but he kept quiet and his eyes drifted toward the floor.
"Nick?"

"Take the leads off, Nat.  Please?"

"I am not--"

"At least the ones that aren't necessary.  I'm not asking you to remove
the IV, just anything that can't actually help me get better.  I'd have
done it myself by now, if I could."

"So you're not going to, I don't know, sabotage--"

"I'm not going to sabotage anything."

Natalie sighed, but nodded and worked on removing the leads that went to
the monitor.  He winced a little as each sticky end came free, but she
knew she wasn't exactly being gentle.  She continued pulling off wires
and electrode patches until only the IV was left.  He barely moved.
"Are you all right?"

"I'll be all right, but for now I just...I hurt all over."

Natalie backed up a little, but rather than look up at her, he kept his
gaze slightly downward.  She touched his face, but it made him turn
further away.

"I'll be all right, Nat.  There's nothing you can do about it, anyway."

"I don't know about that," she said.  "Come on, move over...or try to,"
she amended.

"No, Nat...please don't," he said and gripped the edge of the bed in
case she tried to push him back.  A near moan from his efforts to
reposition his stiff and achy body involuntarily escaped his lips, but
he forced his attention solidly onto her.  "I...I want to hear more
about this...plan."

Natalie forced a smile, but she retrieved the stool and moved it over
next to his bed.  "You know..." she started as she sat down, "I really
don't know all that much."

"But you'll tell me what you *do* know, right?"

"Of course, but Daniel will probably have to explain it all again," she
said.

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

"If this is something you want to do, you'll have to do it tonight,"
Daniel said after dropping by the quieter room to which Nick had been
transferred.  "Is it?"

By now Nick was strong enough to sit up on his own.  Natalie had
convinced Fraiser to keep giving him a slow IV of blood from her and
LaCroix to strengthen him.  He even managed to drink a little, too,
although he had cringed when he did so.  Despite his improved condition,
he still felt too weak to believe any such plan could succeed.

"Nick..." Natalie prodded him for an answer.  He had told her earlier
that he was interested, but she suspected he had too many doubts and
might have changed his mind.

"I don't know how to work the stargate, not this one here at the base,
anyway."

"It's the same principle as any other gate, it just uses a computer
keyboard instead of a DHD."

"DHD?" Natalie asked.

"Dial Home Device--sort of a cross between a computer keyboard and a
telephone, but on a larger scale.  It's where you input your
destination," Daniel quickly explained.

"But it's not that simple, is it?  We won't be able to simply enter the
address and leave, right?"

"Don't worry, I explained that part in my note to make sure you know
exactly what to do--if it's something you still want to do.  Is it?"

Slowly Nick nodded, but then he shook his head.  "You'll get in trouble
for helping us."

"Don't worry about me.  As long as you take what I give Natalie with
you, there won't be any actual proof that I helped you."  Carefully he
handed her a folded piece of paper.  "And I'm not in the military, which
makes disciplining me for this type of thing very...well, very
difficult, if not impossible."  He paused again.  "And you've already
been in the control room.  You know where it is and--"

"And there are too many people."

"That's because you saw it during the day.  At night, unless a team is
scheduled to return--which is rare--there are usually only two techs and
fewer soldiers near the gate room.  As long as you disable anyone who
could sound an alarm before they do so, you shouldn't have any trouble
getting through the gate."

"And then what?  Most gates are out in the open."

"Only one of the four address I wrote down is like that.  That one has a
question mark in front of it.  Besides, it's not required that you go to
all of them, just--"

"Recommended."

"Yes, but you only really have to go to two--the first and the last--and
once you're through the gate here at the SGC, there shouldn't be any
problem.  Just make sure you don't hesitate.  You'll need to dial out
before we dial back in."

"How long before they pick us up?" Nick asked.

"Ah, two or three days is their guess.  Most everything you need is on
that note.  It's actually quite simple to dial out, and you already know
how to get LaCroix out...but if you have any questions, I'll be here all
night."

"That won't help.  I won't be allowed to walk the base freely now.  I
won't be able to ask you any questions."

"Then I'll come back later tonight."

"But we have to leave tonight," Nick countered.

"Yes, but I would suggest you wait until between one and three in the
morning.  I'll drop by this evening sometime after dinner."

"Does anyone else know about this?" Natalie asked, knowing that Nick
would want to know.

"I said something to Fraiser."

"And she could get into trouble," Nick said.

"She had been concerned that you might try something," Daniel answered.
"And she knew I was trying to come up with an idea that might work.  She
doesn't know any of the details, only that I'm helping you leave by the
stargate...or at least that I had considered it as an option.  There
still won't be any actual proof, just a conversation."

Daniel took a step toward the door.  "Think about it and look over that
note I gave Natalie.  If you have to, you can always...'force' me to
help you or something.  No one will question that you can do it.  Please
think it over first; don't decide anything just yet.  I'll be back this
evening for your decision."

Nick looked down even before the mortal left the room.

"Nick..."

"Show me the paper," he whispered.

Natalie shifted more in front of him, then held her hands in front of
her, the folded paper between them.  She saw nothing more than jagged,
uneven scribbles on a slightly bent corner.  "What--"

"Gate addresses," he answered.  "And the instructions?"

She turned the paper over to find nothing, and then unfolded it.  Rather
than try to guess, she handed it to him.  "How hard does it sound?"

Nick reviewed the list of instructions and suddenly felt less stressed.
It wasn't a long list.  It would be easier than he thought--as long as
they kept anyone from hitting the alarm.

"Well?"

"It might be doable," he whispered.

"So you want to try it?  Or do you want to wait and let them--"

"We'll try it.  I don't want them to take you and isolate you like they
did me, and if we have a way back to Earth...they won't even know we've
come back.  We'll have to change our names, of course, use something we
haven't used before, but--"

"LaCroix won't like that..."

"He'll do it."

"And when was the last time he changed his name?"

Nick couldn't help but smile a little.  LaCroix had gone by the same
name for at least a thousand years.  "Long enough that it's time he
changed it."

"Hmm, but--"

"At least a millennium.  Like I said...he'll change it."  His smile
faded.  "I wouldn't think it would have to be permanent...only for a
decade, maybe a few.  We'll have to talk more about it, but...later."

"But you're okay with this now?  More than when I first mentioned it?"

Nick hesitated.  He supposed he hadn't exactly been enthusiastic about
the idea at first, and while he still had his doubts, he wouldn't say he
was fully okay with it.  Yet, if it worked...  "I don't think it'll hurt
any for us to try to leave.  If they catch us, though, stop us..."

"That'll be it, I know."

"And if we do this...I don't know if you're willing to--"

"I'll do whatever I have to.  Besides, I think LaCroix will be the
bigger problem.  He's been cooped up all this time.  When we let him
out, he could--"

"He could kill someone, I know," Nick whispered, his attention straying
a little.  After a moment, he carefully folded the piece of paper and
handed it back to Natalie.  "It'll be fine, Nat.  We'll just have to
keep an eye on him...and not give him a weapon."

"I don't think he needs one," she muttered, slipped the paper out of
sight and into a pocket while she turned to one side, then sat on the
stool again.  "Are you really going to be up for this later?"

Nick looked even further away.  Would he?  He hadn't even tried
walking...or even standing up.  "I'll have to be," he whispered and
closed his eyes to rest.  "Try to get some sleep, all right?"

Natalie hesitated, but she nodded to herself.  She squeezed his hand
before moving away and going back to the corner where she had spent a
large chunk of her time over the last couple of days.  She'd need her
rest if they were going to try and do something.



A Trial Run - (31/32)

Late that night, a few minutes after two in the morning, Nick rested for
a moment with his eyes closed and a hand against the wall.  This was a
lot harder than he thought it would be--just walking.

Daniel had come by again that night and discretely brought a change of
clothes for both him and LaCroix.  While grateful for the
garments--they'd make it easier for them to blend in, even if a split
second longer--it made this a little more complicated.  And it'd take a
little longer, since they'd have to wait for his sire to change clothes.

Currently they were only about halfway to LaCroix' room.  While they had
easily taken out the two guards outside their own room--Zatted them and
moved them out of the hall and into the room--LaCroix' guards would be
harder to take out, even if he already had a weapon.  There were more of
them--three rather than two--and Nick had a feeling it'd be a bad idea
to be shot by one of their Zats. 

"Nick?" Natalie prodded when they didn't start moving after a couple of
seconds.  Before they left, he had stressed how important it was for
them to keep moving, yet if they rushed they were more likely to draw
attention to themselves and subsequently be caught before they could
escape.

He forced himself forward when he felt her hand on his arm.  "Don't
worry.  I'm fine," he muttered and tried to focus once more on what they
were doing.  They had to get LaCroix, then make their way to the
stargate and leave.  Simple...yet not.

They reached LaCroix' room within moments.  Before they had time to
react, Nick took out the guards in the hall.  Next he went straight for
the doorway, where he used the small panel beside the opening to disable
the force-field.  Rather than enter, however, he turned his attention to
one of the unconscious men in the hall and started dragging the man into
the isolation room.

Natalie entered the room soon after him and his burden, and walked up to
LaCroix, who hung back, suspicious.  "Put these on," she said, holding
out the simple clothes that matched what Nick had on--blue pants and a
black t-shirt.

"Why?"

"So we can blend in better.  We're leaving," she said and then pressed
the clothes directly into his chest.  She let go the moment he took
them, then went after Nick, who had already left the room.  He had gone
for the other man who had fallen close to the door.  "Maybe you should
get the last one," she said, giving a nod down the hall a little ways.
"I'll get this one.  It'll be faster," she reasoned, and in a matter of
seconds, they had dragged the remaining two soldiers into the isolation
room.  LaCroix had only half-changed, but she headed back into the
halls.  Nick didn't follow her immediately; he was busy relieving the
soldiers of their radios.

By the time Nick had finished gathering the items--along with a second
Zat--LaCroix had finished changing clothes.  He left, dropping the
communication devices to the floor outside the force-field.  He handed
Natalie the Zat, and once LaCroix had finally exited the room, he
reactivated the force-field to enclose the soldiers.

"Finally, you've seen reason, Nicholas."

Nick ignored the quip and led the way to the elevator.  Once they were
inside and they started downward, he felt LaCroix pull on his arm.

"What are you doing?  If we are to escape, we need to--"

"We'll be caught if we try to leave by the surface," Nick said moments
before the doors opened at the lowest level they could access.  He
started down the hall again.  "They won't catch us if you let Natalie
and me handle this," he whispered, which came out harsh in the silent
hall, then they continued on toward the control room.

They had no time for more delays.  He was surprised at how easily they
entered the control room, then even more stunned at how easily they took
out the two technicians.  The pair had been completely confused as to
who the intruders were, let alone why they were there, in the few
seconds before they had crumpled to the ground.

Walking up closer to the controls, Nick felt the onset of panic as he
tried to remember the instructions.  He quickly found the
computer--dialling program ready--and he turned toward Natalie.  "Head
back into the hall and down those stairs.  Take out anyone you see, but
remember--"

"Just one shot, I know," she said and raised her weapon slightly before
leaving.

"Go with her, LaCroix, and wait near the gate--the big ring," Nick said,
then turned back to the computers before the older man left.  He input
the coordinates, but waited a few more seconds before initiating the
dialling sequence.  He knew this would be their only chance.  Before
leaving the control room to join Natalie and LaCroix, he used a couple
of shortcuts Dr. Jackson had left in the instructions.  One would lock
the keyboard and prevent anyone from aborting the sequence, and the
other would close off the corridors to the gate, slowing the approach of
any soldiers.

He looked up upon hearing the weapon fire again, but this time from the
open area below.  Other guards had entered upon hearing the gate start
up.  Nick hurried down to find LaCroix looking uncharacteristically
timid, his gaze fixed on the gate itself.  The other man already knew or
had heard something about the stargate.

"Nick, are you sure about this?" Natalie asked.

"Yes."

"Do you even know what you are doing?" LaCroix asked, turning away from
the imposing ring.

Nick met his sire's accusatory glare and again said, "Yes, LaCroix, I
know what I'm doing."

"Which is?" he asked, then his attention switched to the gate--which had
rather unexpectedly swooshed out at them, then flattened into a vertical
pool of some sort.

"Oh, my..." Natalie started, but Nick grabbed her hand and started
pulling her forward.  Even though she could hear activity in her
peripheral senses, she pulled her hand out of his.

"We need to go--now," Nick said and again took her hand.  This time she
walked forward with him...but LaCroix didn't.  He glanced back and
considered stopping, but above he saw more soldiers.  They had to go.
Now.  "We have to leave before they stop us," he said and pulled Natalie
into the puddle.

LaCroix hesitated, but he, too, recognised he didn't have much time.  He
quickly followed, closing his eyes at the bright, water-like wall before
he stepped into it.  The next moments were a breath-taking blur,
followed by their stumbling arrival in an ancient and dusty stone hall.
He could almost feel the sheer age of the edifice.  Egyptian, by his
guess, but...

"Move, LaCroix...unless you want to be vaporised."  Nick reached the
dialling device.  He had never actually used one, but knew how to
operate it.  He closed his eyes to help him visualise the symbols of the
address, then opened them and started looking for the markings.  He only
pressed the first two before he drew a blank.

"Here," Natalie said and held out the piece of paper Daniel had given
her.

Seeing the paper, Nick used it to select the remaining symbols, but
hesitated again at the last one, mainly because he couldn't find it
right away.  Once he found it, he almost hit it before glancing up to
make sure LaCroix had moved out of the way.  He had--he now stood just
on the other side of the console.

"I thought you knew what you were doing, Nicholas!"

"He does.  He just doesn't have the addresses memorised," Natalie
replied.  "Nick..."

Nick looked down from LaCroix, pressed the last glyph, then opened the
gate.  The room brightened.  "Go, LaCroix."

"I want an explanation."

"You'll get one once we reach our destination, not before," Nick said,
then walked around both the console and LaCroix.  Again he took
Natalie's hand and pulled her through the gate.  Arriving this time in a
similar--but more open--building, his eyes immediately focused on the
strips of deadly sunlight stabbing in at the opposite end of the hall.

"Are you really going to explain everything to him?" Natalie whispered,
walking down the steps.  "And where are we, anyway?  This looks..."  She
trailed off as she turned and saw LaCroix standing at the top of the
steps.

"Indeed," LaCroix prodded.  "This looks..."

"I was just going to say old."

The ancient vampire smiled slightly.  "I suppose it is...at least
architecturally.  I haven't seen anything like this for...quite some
time...which you should know, Nicholas."

Nick ignored him and went to the console again.

"Since we will be trapped here for some time, will you now--"

"Not yet, LaCroix."  He tried to put in the address, but this time his
annoyance completely distracted him.  "Nat?"

Walking over to him, she again held out the piece of paper so he could
read it.

"How many times must we do this?"

"Once more...twice if you want to chance walking into full sunlight,"
Nick said half seriously and half in jest.  Even so, he started entering
the last address.  Whether or not LaCroix was okay with it--or however
much he wanted to shove his maker through the gate and strand him on
some random planet--he wasn't willing to take the chance.  Before
opening the gate, he looked up again to make sure the older man was out
of the way--barely, by the looks of it--and he activated it.  He was
almost disappointed to be wrong, but then he nodded toward the gate.
"Go, LaCroix.  I'll explain what I can once we're through."

LaCroix narrowed his eyes and stayed right where he stood.  He had no
desire to go first and end up stranded somewhere with no information
about where he was.  "After you, Nicholas," he said and stepped back and
turned so that he now faced the gate.

"It's not a trick, LaCroix."

"Then, by all means, *do* go first."

Annoyed by their bickering, Natalie stepped away from Nick and toward
LaCroix.  "I'll go, then," she said and walked past the older vampire
and into the water-like puddle.

"Is this a trap, Nicholas?" LaCroix asked.

"It's not a trap, now *go*," Nick said even as he started around the DHD
and toward the gate.  LaCroix still seemed hesitant, but he had followed
the other times, and so he stepped through the gate once more.  Nick
noted that this time the stone walls were much rougher and a drab grey
rather than beige.  Different culture, too, if he had to guess, but
still another large hall.  Like the first, no sunlight made its way in,
for which he was grateful.  He faintly wondered if these were the only
planets where the gate was enclosed like this, and then he heard the
gate disconnect.  Turning, he found LaCroix once again standing at the
top of the steps, which merely emphasised his annoyance.

"Where are we, Nicholas?"

"I don't know anything about where we are beyond the coordinates to get
here, that this place is a planet and not a moon, and that we're
supposed to be picked up within the next two or three days and taken
back to Earth."

"Picked up by whom?" LaCroix demanded, walking down the handful of steps
with his searing gaze fixed solidly on the younger man.

This was the part Nick most dreaded trying to explain.  "By...aliens,"
he replied quickly but evasively.

"Nick helped one of them--saved her life--and someone back at the base
arranged for their people to help us get back to Earth without our side
knowing about it.  And apparently these...aliens...have ships that can
take us there without using the gate," Natalie explained, but only to a
point.

"They'll take us back to Earth discretely, but we should probably change
our names--all of us--when we get back.  They know all about you,
LaCroix, including who you are to me."  Nick watched LaCroix' gaze snap
to Natalie.  "No, she didn't tell them; I did.  But I wouldn't be
surprised if they knew about you before then.  They know enough about my
past without me telling them that you would have shown up more than
once.  Besides, I'm not the first vampire they've run across.  Natalie
didn't tell them anything they didn't already know."

"And I didn't tell them anything until it seemed necessary, LaCroix.
They clearly knew a lot about us, and I felt it best to at least confirm
or deny some of what they already knew--to find out what they knew."

LaCroix started to slowly pace.  He didn't like this at all.  Someone--a
mortal who knew far too much--had helped them, and he asked, "Who aided
us in these...arrangements?"

"Dr. Daniel Jackson," Nick answered.

"He's the man you almost strangled," Natalie explained, not sure if
LaCroix had ever seen him again, let alone been introduced to him.

LaCroix continued to pace, but slowed after a couple of minutes as what
he had learned sunk in.  Eventually he stopped and turned to face the
two.  "So we are to merely...wait here?  In this edifice...or
elsewhere?"

"Yes," Nick said.  "They won't come by the stargate, but they'll come
here first.  At least one of us should probably remain here at all
times."

"And what exactly are we supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Wait, as you already guessed.  The planet is presently unoccupied,
other than native wildlife that I know nothing about," Nick continued,
unable to suppress a slight smile.  LaCroix wouldn't like that.  No
humans meant no prey.

"And our meals?  What are we supposed to do for--"

"We will wait," Natalie answered.  "Whether it takes days or even a
couple of weeks to get back to Earth, we will wait...unless you want to
hunt whatever wildlife you can--assuming you can and they are even, ah,
edible.  And keep in mind that if we harm any of those who pick us up
and return us to Earth, I'd bet they'll tell others--or worse--and we
can't risk that.  Unless you want all of us to end up, I would assume,
held indefinitely under heavy sedation, with no hope of escaping again?"

While angry, LaCroix agreed with that assessment and prudently remained
quiet.  They'd all have to either go hungry or take a risk with whatever
life--if any--lived there...assuming they could even venture outside.  A
dim light across the room hinted that it was likely day.

"Do you agree with her, LaCroix?  We don't feed until we are back on
Earth."

His anger spiked again, but he answered, "Yes, Nicholas, I agree.  But
once we return...I shall do as I please.  Agreed?"

"I can't stop you.  But I will also do as I please.  So will Natalie."

LaCroix kept his eyes fixed on the younger man's.  He disapproved of
this open defiance, but he knew he'd have to allow it if he wished to
remain close.  Eventually he looked away, turning his attention once
more to the large room.  "If it is day, we should rest," he said and
started toward the light.

Nick stayed back for a moment, then followed.  He had a strong suspicion
it was indeed daytime.  The light appeared suspiciously like sunlight,
and he already had discovered that a star didn't have to be Earth's sun
in order to burn them.  Most planets with stargates seemed to be similar
to Earth...including their sun--or suns.  He stopped behind LaCroix once
they were close enough to discern that the light was indeed sunlight
streaming in through the hall's entrance.

"It's settled, then," LaCroix said and turned.  "We will rest."

Nick stood and continued to stare at the light as his sire walked back
inside.  He didn't want to rest.  He wanted to leave.  This strange
freedom and its uncertainty unnerved him.

"Nick?"

He looked away and toward Natalie's voice.  She was worried,
concerned...and tired.  She at least would need rest.  He didn't think
he could rest or relax, not with his master so near.  He managed a faint
smile as he took her hand and started to walk back toward the gate, to
the opposite side of the hall as LaCroix had headed.

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

Hours passed, or Nick suspected they had, before he felt certain Natalie
had finally fallen asleep.  She had tried to stay up with him, but
failed.  He knew she would.  Even he felt tired, but he had wanted to
talk to LaCroix alone.  While his sire had his eyes closed, Nick knew he
hadn't fallen asleep, and he whispered, "You shouldn't have done this,
LaCroix."

"If I had not come, she would have on her own.  You know that.  After
all, she is easily as stubborn as you," LaCroix whispered back but
didn't open his eyes.

Ignoring the jibe, Nick replied, "You shouldn't have done any of this,
from the time you found me in the loft."

Now the older man looked up, only to see the odd cold expression he had
seen several times now from his son.  It wasn't like him.

"You should have killed me when I asked, then walked away.  It'll be
hard enough for her to be like us; now she'll be hunted, too."

"She has been one of us for more than five years, Nicholas.  It has not
proved difficult or arduous for her, other than having to wait so long
to see you again.  She will adapt better to whatever lies in our future
than you or I."

Nick slowly shook his head.  "She never should have had to wait this
long."

"No, she shouldn't have.  And she wouldn't have if you--"

"If you had just killed me as I asked, as I wanted!" Nick said louder,
but glanced over where Natalie had curled up to make sure she hadn't
woken.

"You were devastated at the mere thought you had killed her, Nicholas!
I saw it, felt it when I arrived.  And when I realised there was still a
chance she could yet be brought across--as you had clearly planned to
do--I took it.  I knew she'd fight for her life.  For you.  And she did.
And she *won*.  I saved her for you, Nicholas.  I tried because I knew
it was what you had wanted to do, planned to do...if you could."  He
looked away.  "But that is in the past.  What is done is done...and she
has long accepted this.  You must as well."

"You did this because you couldn't accept losing me...and you will,
LaCroix.  You only tried to bring her across so you wouldn't have to
kill me.  You didn't do it for me, but for yourself."

"Perhaps that was one reason, but not the only one, I assure you.   I
also knew she was a good match for us...for you.  She is utterly loyal
to you.  Not once has she given in to...certain temptations.  And you
know all too well how difficult that is, Nicholas."

Nick looked once more at LaCroix, but kept silent, despite his dislike
of the other man's words or how deeply they had struck home.

"Rest, my son.  I will not harm her...or you, for that matter.  And if
we are to fast, then we must conserve our energy--all of us.  We can
argue later, if you wish, although not about this.  You must not dwell
on this, especially since it sounds as if we shall all have to start new
lives when we return."

"With new names, LaCroix.  At least our last names must change to
something completely different...yours included, if you intend to
accompany us."

"Is that an invitation?" he prodded in response to the curious comment.

"No.  I just know you'll follow regardless, but if that is what you
wish, then you'll need to decide on a new name.  How long have you
called yourself Lucien LaCroix anyway?  Longer than you've known me...or
Janette.  At least a millennium, yes?"

LaCroix merely gave a slight nod in answer.  Yes, it had been longer
than a millennium, but not too much longer.  He had only been using the
name--the full name, not just the alternate version of his mortal
name--for a few decades when he had come across Janette.

"LaCroix?"

"Yes, I will accompany you...even if I must retire this name...at least
on paper."

"And otherwise."

"Not in some circles.  Besides, the name 'Lucius' carries more weight
than even 'Lucien LaCroix' amongst *us*."  His gaze on his son suddenly
grew more stern.  "I do hope you didn't tell these mortals about my
past."

"All they know about you is that you made me and are therefore older
than I am.  And, no, they don't know how old I am, not specifically or
precisely I don't think, but they know or can guess well enough.  They
also know several of my aliases, including my mortal name--but not which
of those it is."

"Good."  LaCroix closed his eyes again.  "Now, I plan to sleep.  I
suggest you do the same."

Nick kept his eyes on his sire, but he no longer felt tired.  As minutes
ticked by and he eventually realised the other man had fallen asleep, he
stayed up and kept a silent watch--not that there was anything to watch
for.  The planet seemed deserted and in the hours they had been there,
not one bird or small animal had entered the building.

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

"Dr. Jackson..." Hammond started to ask a couple of hours after Nick
Parker, Natalie Lambert, and Lucien LaCroix had escaped via the
stargate.  He had a feeling he wouldn't be getting the reply he wanted.
He suspected--no, he *knew* Jackson had had something to do with their
escape--but had no proof, other than a fleeting image in the
surveillance footage.  Right now they could both see an enlarged version
of that captured image--a piece of paper being passed to Natalie
Lambert.  Hammond had already pointed it out, but hadn't received any
sort of reply.  "Dr. Jackson," he began again, "What do you see?  What
did you do?"

Daniel hesitated again.  He couldn't refute what he had done, but he had
an idea and said, "It appears that I passed something to Natalie
Lambert."

"It appears...?"

"I don't remember doing it."  It was a lie, but he had an easy
explanation.  "You know what they can do."

"You mean influence others--hypnosis."

"Yes.  I've felt it.  Both Nick and Natalie have tried to force my
answers on earlier occasions.  And while I would have answered anyway, I
don't think I could have refused.  And the man LaCroix questioned--he
didn't remember a thing.  Same with the guard I had Nick try to get by."

"So you're saying they made you forget?"

"I'm saying it's possible.  They could have told me to do something and
I don't think I would have resisted if it resulted in them being able to
leave--Nick especially."

"And you don't remember any of that?" Hammond said, nodding toward the
image.

"I remember being there, but not giving her anything."

"Nor helping them in any way?"

"Nor helping them in any way," Daniel repeated.  "Frankly, I don't even
remember why I was there or would have been there."

Hammond sighed, then asked, "What about the security room?"

"What about it?"

"The officers inside were knocked out.  We literally had no warning of
what they were doing until they had activated the gate.  And they went
straight to the gate."

"And what--you think it was me?"

"If they made you help them--"

"I already said that I--"

"You don't remember helping them in any way," Hammond stated, sighing
again.  He couldn't do much beyond take Dr. Jackson at his word--which
very possibly was the truth.  He couldn't say for sure that Daniel had
either lied or indeed been manipulated into helping the three.
Thankfully, the only way he could think of discovering the truth would
be using a za'tarc detector, and not only did they not have one on hand,
but even they weren't infallible.  He also didn't particularly want to
find out if Daniel was lying, not officially anyway.  "And where they
went..."

"Is a planet SG-1 went to a few months ago, where--"

"Where, according to your survey, you found a secondary structure with
several inscriptions."

"Which Nick had translated.  He would have seen the address and would
have been able to read my notes at the very least.  From that, he would
have known that the area around the gate was enclosed."

"And so far we have found no sign of them on the planet.  They shouldn't
have been able to get very far since the planet's sun was high in the
sky, unless they gated to another location shortly after their arrival."
He paused, letting out another breath, but then sharply inhaled.  "What
I still don't understand is how he locked the keyboard out."

"If he or Natalie made me help them--"

"They could have gotten that information from you.  Yes, I am aware of
that, Dr. Jackson."  Hammond turned off the screen.  "You're dismissed.
If you remember anything--"

"I'll let you know."  Daniel stood, but rather than leave, he hesitated.
"General?"

"Yes?"

"May I ask what your orders are when it comes to them?"

"If anyone from any of our teams see them, they are to return them by
force to Earth, but I don't think that'll happen.  If they keep a low
profile, it's unlikely they'll ever be caught.  Only SG-1 and selected
others are aware of exactly who and what they are...and that's not
likely to change.  Any other questions?"

"No, not right now."

"Good.  Now go, before I question you again."

At the warning, Daniel turned and left, feeling at least somewhat
relieved.



A Trial Run - (32/32)

"Put the sword back, LaCroix," Nick said as they waited in Daniel
Jackson's apartment.  They had been there since before dawn that
morning, and while he and Natalie had picked up or looked at some of the
decor, LaCroix' avid curiosity had kept them all on edge.  The older
vampire kept inspecting the swords and a wooden staff that made the
other two stiffen a little.  The latter was different than the one Nick
had asked LaCroix to kill him with back in Toronto.  The wood was
darker, richer, and had more ornate carvings, yet was the same general
size and shape.  It was a symbol of bad memories.  As for the
swords...they were simply apt weapons.  "LaCroix..."

"Isn't it so very interesting?  Familiar?"

"You've looked at it enough.  Put it back."

LaCroix examined the sharp blade once more, then respectfully placed it
back on the nails in the wall.  "I'm surprised you don't display some of
your swords, Nicholas," he said, then feigned surprise.  "Ah, yes, of
course.  You want to avoid pesky questions from the mortals...or I
should say avoid any additional questions from them."

Nick didn't relax when his sire walked away from the swords, staring at
the staff longer than necessary, then headed toward the kitchen.  Nick
stood and followed.  Behind him, he could feel Natalie following him.
"LaCroix..."

"Breakfast?" LaCroix asked.  He turned from where he stopped at the
counter, a green glass wine bottle held in his hands.

"We had plenty last night--you, especially.  We can wait."

"*You* can wait.  *I* will not."  He turned and started going through
cupboards until he pulled out a wine glass.  He set it down, pulled the
cork out of the bottle, and filled the glass quite full.

They had only been back on Earth for a little less than two days.  Much
of that time had been spent getting there--from Wyoming.  In LaCroix'
eyes, their destination summed up their entire trip--excruciatingly
boring and unforgivably uneventful, beyond their strange, quiet pilot,
who eyed them uncertainly as often as two of the three vampires eyed
him.

In Denver, they had gone to the club Natalie had visited shortly before
entering the mountain.  They only had the one bottle left from that all
too brief visit.  LaCroix had hoped his son would partake, but his
refusal didn't surprise him.

After taking a small sip of the blood, which he took time to savour, he
pushed the cork back into the bottle and turned with his glass.  His son
glared at him.  "Now what have I done, Nicholas?"

"This is not your home, nor is it mine."

"Or mine, for that matter," Natalie added.  He had done this in her
apartment in Chicago--used her glasses and her small stock of blood
instead of his own.

"He knows what we are...and he is your friend as well, is he not?  I'm
certain he'll understand.  *You* always do, and he did seem so very much
like you, Nicholas."

LaCroix walked by the others and down toward the doors to the balcony
where a small grand piano sat in the corner.  "Remove some of
the...excess clutter," he said as he turned and eyed a plant, "and I
would almost guess this was your home."

"He's mortal, LaCroix, and knowing that you are drinking out of one of
his glasses--"

"And my beverage has already been poured.  There's no sense arguing
about it," LaCroix said and took another small sip from the glass.

"If you finish it before he gets here, *I* will tell him what was in
that glass," Natalie said.

"*If* he comes home," he countered.  "We've now been here since four
this morning and it's already after nine in the evening.  If he is not
here before dawn, then we leave.  I fail to understand your reasons or
need to come here in the first place.  We should not be here, Nicholas."

"Daniel helped us--all of us--and the least we can do is let him know we
made it back safely...and find out how likely it is we'll be hunted now
that we're back."

"As I said, if he does not return by dawn, we will leave," LaCroix
insisted.  "Agreed?"

Nick stiffened, but nodded.  "Agreed," he whispered.  He knew Daniel
didn't always go home--or could go home--but he had a strong feeling
that he would do so tonight.  He found a clock and suppressed a flinch.
It was getting later.

While LaCroix slowly drank his meal, Nick and Natalie watched him stroll
around the loft apartment, continuing to pick up various pieces that
piqued his interest and scrutinise them.  Nick didn't try to stop his
sire or comment yet again.  It wouldn't stop him from doing anything,
especially not from inspecting some of the older Egyptian items.  He
carefully eyed the other man when he removed a piece from a game--a very
old game--and he saw LaCroix' expression change.  "What is it?"

"A game."

"I know that, but what--"

"This tiny, delicate piece has survived longer than I have, possibly
centuries longer."

"Assuming it's even from Earth," Nick noted.  "It could--"

"Yes, yes, it could be merely a few hundred years old, found on some
other planet..." LaCroix dismissed.  "Although...I somehow doubt he'd be
allowed to bring such an artefact home.  These objects scattered
throughout his home are assuredly from Earth's past, Earth's history,
*our* history...not that of some other world.  I have seen nothing here
that I haven't seen somewhere before, even if it has been centuries...or
longer."  He drank the rest of the blood in his glass, then set the
playing piece back before returning to the kitchen.

Nick followed a few steps, but stopped once he saw him grip the wine
bottle again.  LaCroix was determined to force them either to go back to
Denver or to kill.  Unless Daniel came back soon, they would have no
chance to reach Denver before dawn, and while he would be all right to
fast a day or two longer, Natalie wouldn't.  Even now she looked hungry
and impatient.  Their nearly week away--waiting for the Tok'ra to pick
them up, then the trip back to Earth--had illustrated to him that she
had never adjusted to going without blood.  In desperation, she had
ended up feeding once from him and once from LaCroix.  The last she had
done reluctantly, but he knew there wasn't much choice for her.

Soon after their return, LaCroix had killed a young man, a hitchhiker.
That had set both his and Natalie's resolve toward finding some other
source--which was the reason for their stop in Denver--but they were now
running out of the blood they had obtained there.  After buying clothes
for each of them with the dead man's money, they had gone to Colorado
Springs--and Dr. Jackson's apartment.

Nick watched LaCroix head back toward him, but when the other man moved
to walk past him, he stopped him with a hand on his arm.  "Give the
glass to Natalie," he said, neither looking away nor releasing his hold.

LaCroix hesitated, but he knew she would need blood the soonest of all
of them, and turned toward his son.  The younger man let go, which
allowed him to hand over the glass.

Natalie had stiffened long before he offered the glass to her, but she
took it and pulled it to her as he let go and spun angrily away from
her.  "Nick..."

"Drink it, Nat."

She started to shake her head when the lock for the apartment clicked
and the door opened.  Now she readily drank the blood to get rid of it,
slowly starting for the kitchen while she did so.

Daniel had entered and walked in, unaware of his uninvited guests, past
the kitchen, toward where Nick and LaCroix waited.  The moment he
reached the open area and saw them, he froze.  "How did you get in
here?"

"Unlocked window," Nick answered.  "I hope you don't mind.  I thought
you'd like to know we made it back."

"Ah, yeah, actually," Daniel fumbled, but forced a smile as he set a bag
down.  "When did you get back?"

"Night before last."

"Tell him where, Nicholas."

He winced a little, but added, "They dropped us off...in Wyoming."

Daniel could guess the source of the older man's obvious disdain and
Nick's wince--much of Wyoming was a veritable wasteland--but rather than
ask for more specifics in a hope to move on to other matters, he instead
asked, "But everything went all right?"

"Yes, as you can see.  Now, can we leave?" LaCroix answered, stepping
nearer to his son, to whom he directed his question.

Nick turned slightly away from Daniel.  He could feel how very close
LaCroix stood and, worse, his sire's intense anger.

"Do you need to be somewhere?" Jackson asked, glancing between the two
men.

"Yes," LaCroix answered.

"No," Nick and Natalie said at the same time.

Daniel's attention went to Natalie, who switched on the kitchen faucet
after she answered.

She rinsed out the glass and set it in the otherwise empty sink, then
grabbed the half-full bottle of blood and started back toward the
others.  "You might want to, ah...sterilise the glass in the sink before
you use it."

Daniel looked her over--then Nick and LaCroix as well--focusing on their
clothes.  Nick was now dressed similarly to himself in dress slacks and
a button-down shirt.  LaCroix wore entirely black, including the long
coat over his clothes, obviously ready to leave.  Natalie looked far
more like she had in the pictures he had seen of her time in Toronto,
but now was dressed less formally.  "Can I ask where you're going?"

"That's...probably better if you don't know," Nick said.  "And we
haven't decided yet, anyway.  We've only been back long enough to make
our way here."

"And get clothes and something to eat or drink--whatever you want to
call it," Natalie added, holding up the bottle at the last.

"And then wait here far longer than we should have," LaCroix criticised.
His impatience had grown and he turned his attention to the mortal for a
moment before he turned back to his son.  Closing the distance between
them, he whispered, "I'll wait outside.  Do not tarry."

Nick unconsciously cowered a little as LaCroix left, walking past Daniel
and out the way he had come in.  The mortal tensed, too.  "I'm sorry,
he's...he's not exactly the best house guest."

"He's the one who used the glass for this," Natalie said, again raising
the bottle a little.

"So that's...blood," Daniel said, his eyes on the green glass and its
dark contents.

"Human blood," Nick added and watched the mortal's reaction, but Jackson
merely tore his eyes from it and back to himself.

"You probably shouldn't be here."

"We couldn't exactly go into the facility again to let you know we'd
made it back."

"That's true, but how did you find out where I live?"

"I'm observant, remember?" Nick countered.  "I'm sure that's what you
told Hammond when we escaped...that I already had or could quickly gain
all the knowledge I needed."

"Actually, I didn't have to tell him all that much."  At Nick's puzzled
expression, Daniel explained, "Security footage caught me passing that
paper to Natalie."

"Oh."

"Yeah.  They didn't catch that until after you left, though."

"And?"

"And I told him I didn't remember doing it--or anything else.  Not even
what I *did* do."

"What do you mean?"

"I took out the men in base security, so no one would see your escape on
the monitors.  I'm not sure Hammond believed me when I told him I didn't
remember doing anything to help you, but the only way to really prove
whether I'm telling the truth or not...well, he knows it could produce a
false positive.  Besides, I also mentioned that I wouldn't have resisted
if I'd thought you were trying to escape."

"So as far as they know on the base, we--either Nick or me, or both of
us--forced you to cooperate," Natalie surmised.

"Yes."

"And they don't know we're back on Earth?"

"No.  Their assumption is you gated to another planet and are out there
somewhere, keeping a low profile."

"So they didn't follow us?" Natalie asked.

"No, they didn't even try to find out where you might have gone.  It's
too expensive just to track down three people."

"And what are the orders if you run into us?" Nick asked, narrowing his
eyes a little.  "I'm sure that's a...consideration.  A possibility."

"To return you to Earth.  If we see you, which--"

"You won't."

"Right, but even though it's assumed you're off-world somewhere, you
should probably keep a low profile for a while.  I would suggest leaving
the country--but don't go to Russia."

"Russia?" Natalie asked.  "Why not--"

"Because they also know about the stargate, even tried running their own
program."

"How--"

"I think I told Nick about it.  He can explain it.  Anyway, I wouldn't
rule out the possibility that they might know about you, even though I
think it's just my team, Dr. Fraiser, General Hammond, and several of
those assigned to on-base security that officially know."

"But someone there or at Nellis could have told them--without you
knowing," Nick guessed.

"Exactly, or it's at least possible.  So, wherever you decide to go,
just be careful."

Nick tensed a little at the reminder, but nodded and muttered, "Thanks."
He glanced toward Natalie for a moment before telling the mortal, "We
should go."

"Ah, just a second," Daniel said and quickly put the rest of his things
down.  Next he walked past the two into his makeshift office and jotted
his home phone number down on a small notepad, which he tore the top
sheet off.  "Here," he said, taking it back to Nick.  "That's my number
here.  You can use it to either find out what else I might know or ask
any questions..."

Nick's eyes zoned in on the small sheet of paper, but he didn't take it.

"You don't have to use it if you don't want to, but I thought you might
want it."

Nick slowly took it, glanced at the phone number, then folded it and put
it in a pocket.

"And there's something else you should know," Daniel slowly started,
then explained, "Before finalising his decision to bring you to the SGC,
General Hammond had some research done on your time in Toronto, and
ended up calling your previous employer, Captain Joe Reese."

Nick stiffened more fully.  He hadn't even thought about that part of
his past, not since he had tried to find out what had happened to
Natalie...and before that, he couldn't dare think about anything from
his previous life.

"It was that conversation that essentially solidified his decision to
allow you to come to the SGC.  I pretended I was an old friend of yours
from Chicago and asked Captain Reese a few questions about your time
there in Toronto.  It sounded like he'd really like to know what
happened to you two, or at least know that you're all right.  He assumed
the two of you had just had enough and up and left, but since neither of
you resigned..."

While the idea appealed to Nick, he slowly shook his head.  "I can't, we
can't--"

"If you want, I can at least tell him you're all right, even if you
don't want to talk to him or risk being found.  I won't tell him where
you are, only that you're okay...if you're all right with it and don't
want to call him yourself."  By now the other man had stopped shaking
his head, but still seemed hesitant.  "And I won't contact him at all
without your permission."

"Nick...why not?" Natalie asked.  "We did leave rather...I mean, we just
vanished, and at a horrible time...and under awful circumstances.  Let
him at least tell Reese we're okay and not...missing."

Nick considered a little longer, then said, "All right, but wait a
little while...three, maybe four weeks.  I don't know where we're going
yet, anyway."

"You might try going back to Toronto," Daniel guessed.

"I don't know...  Maybe.  We'll have to talk about it."

"Then I'll wait a month.  If you want me to call him sooner, later, or
not at all, just let me know."

"And you haven't told anyone we'd be coming back?" Nick asked, just to
be sure.  "Not even Fraiser or the other members of your team?"

"I haven't told anyone."

"Do you intend to?"

"To be honest, I don't know, but if I do, I won't give up your location,
and I'll try to stick to theories about where you might be or how you
got there.  I've already lied and basically said I don't know anything
about your escape.  I won't be changing that story unless it's off the
record...and only for certain people.  So as long as you're careful and
don't draw attention to yourselves--in other words, no news stories or
high-profile jobs--no one will know you're even back on Earth, let alone
where.  Just keep that in mind and go about your lives as normal."

Nick's gaze drifted.  It had been a long time since he lived any kind of
normal life--even as a vampire it had been years now.

"And while this is kind of a moot point now...I think you should know
that before you left, you were going to be given a real--paid, I might
add--position at the SGC.  You probably would have eventually been
allowed to leave, although you would have had to remain on base like
Teal'c.  Even that might have been for a limited time.  After that...you
would have been more or less free."

Nick looked back the mortal, but his eyes wouldn't focus.  "I was..."

"Like I said, according to General Hammond, it was in the works.  They
were going to integrate you more fully--more or less release you, and
hope you'd stay.  But anyway...if you *did* show back up on Earth--or at
the SGC--you might not be as unwelcome as you think--you and Natalie,
that is."

"But not LaCroix," she guessed, realised.

"No, probably not.  He's...  'Unpredictable' might be the best
descriptor.  Unpredictable and, forgive me for saying it, but
dangerous."

"Then I'm not sure you'll see us again," Nick admitted.  "I don't know
if he'll ever let me out of his sight again."

"He is right now."

"But he can hear us, I'm sure," he whispered.

"Well, it'll be something to keep in mind in case you get...bored, I
guess?  I mean, you have unlimited time...and it is something new.  And
you seemed to enjoy the work."

Nick vaguely nodded in agreement, then forced a smile, knowing they had
to leave.  "We'll keep it in mind.  And, again, thank you for helping
us.  We may or may not contact you at some point.  If not, I'm sure
you'll understand."  Getting a nod, he started toward the door, slowing
until Natalie reached his side.  Taking her hand, he guided her out.  He
caught one more glance of Dr. Jackson before pulling the door shut
behind them.

In the hall he hesitated, but didn't see LaCroix anywhere.  He then led
the way up to the roof, figuring that would be the next most likely
place they'd find him, and find him they did.

"I told you not to--"

"We have plenty of time left tonight, LaCroix; it's only ten.  And if
all you plan to do is criticise, you can find someone else."  Nick let
go of Natalie's hand, walked by the older vampire, and made his way to
the edge of the roof.  "Now where are we going?  Or I suppose I should
ask where were *you* planning to go?  Denver?"

LaCroix stiffened, but focused on the last questions.  "No, not Denver."

"Then where?"

"We should leave the country.  If you wish to go to Europe, we should
head north and east.  First to Chicago to deal with our apartments, then
to Toronto.  Then we can leave from Montreal or Halifax to...wherever.
If that is what you wish."

"So we need to stop in Chicago and Toronto?  Why?" Nick asked, curious
what LaCroix would say.

"We must at least stop in Chicago.  Whether we stop in Toronto or not is
entirely your choice.  Some of your belongings are still there.  You may
wish to arrange to have some of them shipped, assuming you can decide
upon a final destination."

"So where we go is my choice?" Nick asked, turning around.  His sire
didn't answer; instead, he stood there, simmering.  "LaCroix?"

"Yes, it is your choice.  You are, after all, 'allowing' me to tag
along, rather than the other way around."

Nick looked away again.  He was no longer used to such freedom,
especially when it came to choosing where to go.  He wondered faintly if
it had to do anything with what Daniel had said--that they'd possibly be
welcome if they returned.  Or he would.  LaCroix wouldn't want him to
take that suggestion...he'd do almost anything to prevent it, anything
to keep him.  "Nat?  Where do you want to go?"

"I really don't...just to let you know, while I've been learning French,
it's still pretty awful, but...I'm okay going wherever you want to go.
Besides, there's plenty of time to decide.  We don't have to pick
anywhere until we reach Chicago, anyhow.  That'll take a couple of days,
and then we'll probably stay there for at least a couple more days."

"Max."

This time, Nick agreed.  "He's right--we can't stay there long.  They
know you were living in Chicago, and the name you were using at the
time.  They could easily trace you back to your apartment, I would
assume.  We might not even want to stay there at all."

"We can stay in my apartment," LaCroix offered.  "It is under a
different name."

"What name?"

LaCroix paused before answering, "Janette's."

"She wouldn't like that."

"Perhaps not, but unless they know about her..."

"They don't," Nick confirmed.  "Or as far as I know they don't.
It's...complicated.  They didn't really know about you until I said
something, only Natalie."

"Then it's settled?  We head to Chicago, tie up my and Natalie's affairs
there, then finally--"

"Go back to Toronto," Nick finished.  The thought didn't appeal to him.
"Yes, it's settled."

LaCroix grinned for a split second, then walked over to Natalie.  He
pulled the bottle from her hands, then walked toward his son.  "You
should finish it; you're no longer accustomed to travelling long
distances."

Nick glanced at the bottle, then back to his sire.  "I'll be fine.  You
drink it...or give it to Natalie."  Reluctantly he took off before
LaCroix could try giving him the bottle again.  He really wasn't hungry;
he had had his fill in Denver, and could wait until they arrived in
Chicago if need be.  He felt bad about leaving Natalie behind, but he
didn't want to deal with his sire right now.

Before LaCroix could offer her the bottle, Natalie took off after Nick.
She wasn't about to be separated from him again so soon, not that she
thought that would happen, but Nick was still assuredly the faster
flyer.  He could even out-fly LaCroix if he really wanted to...and she
had a feeling that right now that was exactly what he wanted to do.

Everything would be fine.  Nick could go back to a semi-normal life,
although she knew that would be difficult for him.  This would be hard
for her, too, but it'd be so much harder for him.  She suspected he had
really settled in here, and the mortal's revelation merely confirmed
that.  But they couldn't take that option, not now, and probably not for
at least a few years...if ever.  They'd have to start over--completely
over--and she wasn't going to let Nick have her make all the decisions.
He wasn't used to having the freedom of choice, but he'd have to get
used to it again.  If he didn't, LaCroix would take advantage of his
complacency and he'd be miserable.  And she couldn't--and wouldn't--let
that happen.

LaCroix didn't leave right away.  With narrowed eyes, he watched the two
disappear, then drank deeply from the bottle until it was empty.  His
work had barely begun.  He had his son back, but only time would tell
for how long.  However much he detested the idea, his son had to get
back to a normal routine...even if it included working amongst the
mortals.  He hoped his son would pick France for their destination.
Natalie might not be fluent in the language, but she would learn quickly
with the right teacher and with greater exposure to the language.  It
would help keep his son's thoughts off himself...which was just as, if
not *more* important than getting back to some semblance of normality.

Even Dr. Jackson seemed to agree with that.  From the roof, LaCroix had
been able to hear much of their remaining conversation.  He hadn't been
pleased at hearing the mortal mention his son's previous employer, but
perhaps that would be a good thing.  Finally they could tidy up the
loose ends of the debacle that had led to all of this.  It would provide
some much-needed closure not only to the mortal, but also to his son and
Natalie.  She hadn't easily abandoned that life, not like she had this
time.

But that wretched mortal had also left what he knew would be a rather
tempting door open for his son.  It was a dangerous idea.  Moreover, his
son could see it as a safe haven, a place worth risking to flee to.
He'd have to be very careful to avoid driving the younger man away.

Bottle still in hand, LaCroix took off in the general direction his son
had headed.  He dropped the bottle several roofs over, then picked up
speed.  Somewhere in his mind he remembered the reckless chase that had
started this, and hoped that this time his child would stop.

But he also knew his son *would* stop.  This time he wasn't flying
aimlessly away from him; no, this time he had a destination, and a vague
plan for their future.  His child also had Natalie now and, however much
he himself might detest her, he knew she would keep his son grounded.
More importantly, no matter what else the future held, she'd keep him
*alive*.

~finis~

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story!

Dark Chocolate, White Chocolate, comments, etc. gratefully accepted at:
jarvinia@gmx.com

Jarvinia
http://gryffonslair.com
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