*********************************************************************
                            War 7 File 11
*********************************************************************

Good Work, Detective, Part 1
Saturday, August 10, 1996, 12:15 a.m.
by Amy L. Hull and Jennie "Friend to Mounties Everywhere" Hayes
(Happy Birthday, Susan)

Tara set another drink in front of Amy.  "Well, this is new, love."

"You think?" Amy replied blearily.

Betsy gripped Amy's arm suddenly, causing Amy's drink to spill.

"Huh?" Amy mumbled distractedly, attempting to scrape the alcohol
toward her. She gave up and leaned forward to try and slurp the liquid
off the table's surface.  Her already-wet hair dragged in the liquor. 
Tara stared.

"Amy!  Stop it!" Betsy exclaimed as she caught sight of Amy's
behavior. Shaking the other woman's arm to get her attention, Betsy
squeezed harder and pointed to a table across the room.  "Look!"

Amy turned blearily in the direction Betsy indicated.  "What?"

"It's happening again.  I'm seeing more ghosts."  Betsy took a shaky
drink of her chosen beverage, looked again and shuddered.

Amy looked at her, still clearly confused.  "What?" she asked again.

"Don't you see Tracy?" Betsy asked, pointing again.

Amy looked, blinked, rubbed her eyes, blinked, and said, "Well,
actually, I see about three Tracys.  And Becky.  I think."  Betsy
looked expectantly at Amy, waiting for a reaction to this revelation. 
Amy shrugged, then took a drink and said, "So?"

"So--Tracy's *dead*!" Betsy exclaimed.

"She is?" Amy asked, frowning deeply.

"Yes!"

"Oh."  Amy paused a moment.  "Are you *sure*?"

"Well, Nat *said* she was dead."

"Was Nat sure?" Amy asked.

Betsy looked at Amy, then Tracy, then drained her glass.  This was not
helping.  She spotted Valerie, who was looking mournfully at the dance
floor. Edging toward the injured NatPacker, Betsy began hesitantly,
"Valerie?"

"Yeah?" Valerie looked up from her Sex-On-the-Beach, trying to not
glance back at the dancers.

"Valerie, do you see Tracy over there?"  Betsy asked, pointing.

Valerie looked.  "Yeah," she said absently, glancing back at her
wrapped ankle, which was propped on another bar stool, then to the
dance floor.

Betsy was beginning to look quite lost when suddenly Valerie whirled
back around, paying sudden and complete attention to the figure across
the room. Then a smile spread across her face.  "Tracy's here!  Hey,
Jennie!"  Jennie turned from her conversation with a Mountie.  "Look!"
Valerie called brightly, pointing.

Jennie turned and her grin spread even wider.  "It's Tracy!  She's
okay!" Jennie's grin began to fade as Valerie frowned.  "What?"

"Well.....*why* is Tracy okay?"

"Does it matter?" Jennie asked, her face as pink as the strawberry
daiquiris she had been imbibing, despite the Coke currently in her
hand.

"Are we sure she's not a ghost?" mumbled a still-nervous and slightly
disgruntled Betsy.

"Let's find out.  Betsy, help me carry Val; we'll go say hi," Jennie
said decisively, setting her Coke on the bar and waving goodbye to her
companion, who was still looking worriedly at her orange hair.

Betsy and Jennie locked arms to make the kind of rescue chair the Girl
Scouts seem to always learn, but which often proves less than
optimally effective. Valerie was fortunately not difficult to carry
and did support part of her weight by holding onto Jennie and Betsy's
necks.  There were hardly any raised eyebrows as they crossed the
room--far stranger things had been happening for the past two weeks.

"Who was that you were talking to, Jennie?" Betsy asked.

"Oh.  That was Mitchell the Mountie.  He helped me get to work that
morning when I didn't have my glasses," Jennie explained briefly.

As they neared the small Perkulator contingent, Becky flagged them
over. "Hey, guys!" she called, smiling and raising her glass.  She
turned to Tracy, "Do you remember the NatPack?  Or, at least, this
part of it?"

Tracy took a breath and raised her eyebrows, her expression indicating
that she did indeed remember the chief perpetrators or last war's
frightening impromptu performance of select bits of Phantom of the
Opera at the Raven. All she said aloud was, "I think so."  She pointed
at Valerie's bandaged ankle.  "What happened?"

"Oh, someone tried to mug me and I fell badly fighting his knife away
from him."  Valerie shrugged at the shocked expressions of Tracy and
the Perkulators.  "It's good to see you," she added.

Jennie and Betsy set Valerie gently onto her good foot.  Betsy stepped
hesitantly toward Tracy.

"Are you really.....I mean....how...." Betsy trailed off
uncomfortably, reaching hesitantly toward the younger woman.

After a somewhat uncomfortable silence, Tracy took Betsy's hand, shook
it, and said, "Tracy Vetter."

"Betsy Vera," Betsy replied in an automated haze.  She stared at their
joined hands, then grinned.  She turned to Valerie and Jennie, looking
almost giddy. "She's real!  She's alive!  She's not a ghost!"

"Betsy, you're babbling," Jennie said, gently patting Betsy's shoulder
and pulling back as Tracy, her smile frozen on her face, gingerly
attempted to extricate her fingers from Betsy's relieved grip.

Becky smiled placatingly at Tracy.  "The NatPack.  Remember--they're
the slightly unstable ones?"  She shrugged at Jennie's glare.


*********************************************************************


Good Work, Detective, Part 2
Saturday, August 10, 1996, 12:15 a.m.
by Amy L. Hull and Jennie "Friend to Mounties Everywhere" Hayes
(Happy Birthday, Susan)

Becky smiled placatingly at Tracy.  "The NatPack.  Remember--they're
the slightly unstable ones?"  She shrugged at Jennie's glare.

Valerie and Betsy burbled happily at Tracy and Becky leaned toward
Jennie. "So what's with the ghosts?" Becky asked.

"Well, it seems Nat has developed a whammy.  She seems to have gotten
most of us with it.  Betsy seems to see ghosts.  And if you've noticed
Amy over there--she doesn't normally drink alcohol.  At all."

Noticing Jennie gesturing at her, Amy raised her glass, spilling half
of it down the front of her in the process.

Becky nodded.  "I see.  And I suppose the....whammy.... is responsible
for the Bozo hair, and the orange clothes and nails and glasses--"

"No!  Orange is a wonderful color!  It's nice and bright and shiny!"

"Uh huh.  So is fire--"

"Fire..." Jennie breathed, grinning happily.

"--but you don't usually stick your hair in it," Becky finished

Jennie frowned.  "Why not?  Hair burn.  Pretty bright *shiny* burning
hair." Jennie smiled again, her eyes glazing over mischievously.

Becky turned to Tracy.  "Hey, Trace.  Do you see Nick?"

Tracy scanned the room.  "Uh...yeah.  He's right over there."  Tracy
pointed.

"Could you go get him?" Becky asked.  "We have a problem here we need
him to fix."

"Sure," Tracy replied brightly.

"And, Jennie, could you go get Amy?" Becky smiled engagingly.

"Why?"  Jennie's eyes narrowed; she was suddenly suspicious of Becky's
familiarly calculating manner.

"Um....she ought to be walked around every now and then?"

Jennie looked dubious and tapped her foot a bit.

"Hey," Becky wheedled.  "I don't want to miss my only chance to see
Amy schnackered, do I?"

"Guess not."  Jennie headed for the bar and retrieved both her Coke
and Amy. When they returned to Becky's table, Nick was arriving with
Tracy.

"But I still don't understand," he was stammering.  "They told me you
were dead."

Tracy shrugged.  "Well, I'm not."

"B-b-but how?"  Nick sputtered.

"Does it really matter?"  Tracy's patience was wearing a bit thin.
She shoved Nick toward Becky.  "Becky needs you for something.  Make
yourself useful."

"Hey...." Amy slurred.  "We're mad at you."  She pointed at Nick, who
was closer than she had thought, and she ended up poking him in the
chest.

"Nick, we need your help," Becky said quickly as Nick, looking
startled, grabbed Amy's arms and kept her from tipping over.
"Apparently Nat has acquired the ability to hoo-doo people--"

"To what?"  Nick asked, perplexed by Beck's comment and Amy's
behavior.

"To hypnotize people," Becky clarified.

"What?!  That's not possible," Nick objected.

"Nick," Valerie interjected gently, "why not?  After what happened,
you had to know there would be some kind of repercussions."  Nick
looked quite downcast.  "I know you hoped everything was fine,"
Valerie continued, "but it doesn't always seem to work that way."

"So anyway," Becky resumed, "someone needs to undo what's been done to
them. Amy's been drinking all the alcohol she can lay her hands on."

"For days," Betsy added.

Nick raised his eyebrows at the NatPacker now sagging in front of him.
"Why doesn't Nat just undo it if she did it to begin with.  She can't
think this is a good thing."

"Well, Nat doesn't seem to be able to do any of this consciously.  It
only happens by accident, and if she *thinks* about it--nada," Jennie
explained.

Nick nodded, a bit sheepishly, but seeming to be accepting of this,
even if he was still uncomfortable with it.  Appearing to make a
decision, he said, "Okay.  Who first?"

"Amy." Jennie poked her friend.  "*Amy*."  Amy looked up blearily.
"Amy, look at Nick."

"Why?" Amy asked petulantly.  "I'm *mad* at Nick.  He hurt Natalie."

"Well, I'm sure he didn't mean to," Valerie said soothingly.

"But he did.  Ishn't that what counts?"  Amy looked confused.

"Well, why don't you tell him that?" Jennie asked.

"Okay."  Amy paused.  "Where ish he?"

"He's right in front of you," Betsy said.

"Oh."  Amy looked in front of her, then looked up at Nick, who got and
held eye contact as best he could with Amy too drunk to even stand
anymore.

"Amy, you don't need alcohol," Nick began gently.

"Don't need alcohol," Amy mumbled.

Nick continued, "You don't want to drink alcohol.  At least not all
the time. And you're not going to get sick, you're just going to sleep
in a little while for several hours."

"No more alcohol," Amy repeated.  They sat her in a chair, where she
looked dazed but didn't reach for the nearby glasses.  Everyone
breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now Betsy," Jennie encouraged.  "She's been seeing ghosts."

"What if I *want* to see ghosts?" Betsy asked.  She paused a moment.
"What am I *saying*??"

"Betsy," Nick said, getting her attention.  "You don't see ghosts."

"I don't see ghosts," Betsy intoned.

"You don't see ghosts, Betsy."  Nick smiled, then added, "You don't
see ghosts unless you're looking for them and want to.  And if you do,
they won't bother you."

"Won't bother me."  Betsy backed away, nodding.

"Now Jennie," Becky said.

"Why me?" Jennie demanded.  "I'm fine."

"It's the orange," Valerie explained.  "She usually hates orange."

Nick cringed a bit at Jennie's appearance.  "Jennie," he said.

"Why should I let him?  I'm *fine*," Jennie repeated.

"But you could look," Amy offered.  "He has nice blue eyes."

"That's true," Jennie turned to Nick.  "Blue goes well with orange.
*Pretty* blue.  Have you ever thought of wearing oran--"

Susan walked past at that point and murmured, "Oh, my God."  She shook
her head, the image of Nick in orange warring with the image of him in
pink. Both seemed equally abhorrent.

"Jennie, you don't like orange," Nick began.

"Don't like orange," Jennie repeated, her voice a bouncy sing-song.

"You don't want to wear or see orange unless you need to or unless
*you* choose to.  You can choose what colors you like."  Nick stepped
away.

"No orange," Jennie murmured.

"Um," Susan spoke up to alert the group of her presence.  "Could I
possibly just borrow Jennie for a moment here?"

Becky looked at Nick, eyebrows raised questioningly.  Nick nodded and
shrugged.

"Jennie," Susan said soothingly, taking the NatPacker's hand, "I want
you to come with me for a second.  Okay?"

Jennie seemed to be coming back to reality but was still a bit fuzzy.
"Okay."  She followed Susan meekly.

The others watched the two disappear into the nearby restroom and
moments later a piercing sound erupted from behind the door.

Jennie screamed.  "Oh, my *God*!!"


*********************************************************************


The Truce Gift
by Laura MacMillan and the N&NPack
August 10               12:30am
The Museum
Sequel to The Peace Offering

Slowly Rebecca wondered through the museum in search of a certain
Couisn. With all that was happening lately there hadn't been time have
the leather bound book of Lacroix's monologs delivered to CERK. The
Museum presented the perfect oppurtunity since everyone who had been
part of the war was supposed to be there. Rebecca finally located
Denise in the CERK set area. With great ease she handed her the book,
" A truce gift from the N&NPack."  She waited for a reaction.

As Denise looked over the book she felt like jumping up and down with
joy. She had always wanted a copy of all of Lacroix's monologues and
now she had it. The part that amazed her is that a N&NPacker had taken
so much time and effort to transcribe it. Denise calmed herself and
replied, "Thank you. I shall accept this in the manner in which it was
ment." With that Rebacca smiled and turned to go find the rest of the
N&NPack.


*********************************************************************


ONCE AROUND THE FLOOR
by Valerie Meachum
with assistance from Amparo Bertram and Perri Smith

Time: 1:00 am Friday night/Saturday morning, August 9/10
Place:  The Raven, where else?  :-)

Now *this* was what the Raven was supposed to look like as a War wound
down!  The karaoke craze had burned itself out, at least for the
moment, and someone with exceedingly good taste in dance tunes had
taken control of the sound systems.  All the partying listmembers were
pretty much dry again; even Valerie's own velvet dress was now just
barely damp.  And the water fight had been more than worth it.  Though
getting unwhammied by LaCroix would have been mortifying enough
without being dripping wet at the time. Still, with the Trouble Magnet
whammy itself still in operation, she'd probably gotten off easy.

She had actually considered getting out of the way of the hoses and
buckets to protect her rare-occasion attire and the grooming that went
along with it.  She'd been pretty damn proud of herself this time,
decked out in the midnight-blue-green dress patterned after Jean
Butler's costume in the _Riverdance_ video, with its off-the shoulder
princess-seamed cut, flippy short skirt and long sleeves of a mesh
that resembled fishnet stockings but somehow looked a lot classier as
sleeves.  Something Raven-appropriate that she could put on her
dancer-slight frame without looking like a comically tall sixth-grader
trying to fill out big sister's grownup party clothes. Considering the
state of her right ankle after that argument with the pothole outside
Nick's loft, she had nixed the idea of heels and gone the rest of the
way with the Irish dancer motif, wearing soft reel shoes like black
ballet slippers laced half a dozen times across the instep.  She had
even gone as far as to wear her contacts--which miraculously seemed to
be behaving tonight--set her short bob into a riot of loosish curls,
and give Jill another guinea pig for her newly-purchased and quite
astonishing array of expensive cosmetics.

Of course, the effect was marred somewhat by the crutches and Really
Clunky Ankle Brace that G.T. had insisted upon; so the effect that had
been...dampened by the water fight hadn't been perfect to start with. 
_Next time,_ she vowed to herself.  _Next time I'll match any Raven
regular you want to throw at me!_

But this time...she managed to sit relatively still through a Corrs
song, feet--mostly the left--flitting through an air-jig as they
dangled from the barstool.  Then it got cruel.  Somebody put on
"Macarena."

"Not fair!" she wailed, drawing a few amused and/or confused glances
even as she bounced to the high-velocity Latin cross-rhythms.  "I want
to dance and I CAN'T!!!"

"What if you had some help?" a familiar voice asked behind her.  She
thought she covered her startled yelp quite well when Nick scooped her
up and whirled around, in spite of his mock wince and admonition of
"Haven't you exceeded your quota of hypersonic weapons for one War?"

"I have an unlimited supply," Valerie retorted, catching a glimpse of
Perri's self-satisfied grin over Nick's shoulder.  "So who do I owe a
favor to?  You or Perri?"

He shrugged, deftly turning aside from a couple of enthusiastic
dancers who were about to nail her injured foot.  "I don't know about
Perri, but you don't owe me anything.  You guys did what you felt was
best, and you took good care of Nat."

"And threatening to beat you up?" she asked cautiously.

That earned a crooked smile.  "We'll cross that bridge when we come to
it.  But I don't plan to come to it.  Good enough?"

"For me.  For now."  She twirled her hands above her head in a flurry
of syncopated snaps, forcing Nick to think fast to keep from dropping
her.  "And now is a *party*!"

They made it through the rest of the song without mishap, and Nick
returned the NatPacker to her perch.

"Thanks, Nick.  I needed that."

"But what about *me*?" Amparo appeared out of nowhere and attached
herself to Nick's arm, pouting at Valerie with genuine hurt. "How does
*she* rate a dance?  A free ride, yet!"

"Well, she's--" Nick stopped short as he turned to see the smaller
NatPacker, attired in yet another of her now-infamous shy and retiring
dresses, gazing up at him in unmixed adoration. "Uh...Amparo, are you
okay?"

"I'm *fine* now," she purred, adhering herself even more tightly to
him.  If that was possible.

"Yoo-hoo!  Earth to Pod!"  Valerie singsonged, but her friend's focus
at the moment was entirely focussed on Nick's very confused face.

"Never mind dancing," Pod decided.  "We can stay right here."

"Oh, wait a minute."  There was no mistaking the invisible light bulb
going on over Nick's head.  Taking hold of Pod's hands before they
could get anywhere embarrassing, he went on, "I think this is another
one of Nat's accidents, isn't it?"

Ignoring the question, Pod sighed happily, "Bluuuuuuuue eyes..."

"Amparo.  Listen to me.  This is not you..."

Valerie, watching the rather entertaining scene unfold, knew that
tone.  He was trying to undo Nat's unintentional whammy--one that
could prove highly embarrassing if Nick ever figured out that most of
the 'Pack had been acting out exaggerated versions of Nat's own
personality traits!--but it didn't seem to be getting him anywhere.
Pod was most certainly focussed on his eyes...and melting into a
puddle of goo, and no longer hearing a *word* he said.

"Looks like Knight's got the deck stacked against him again."  For the
third time tonight Valerie was startled by a vampire's unexpected
voice, this time Vachon.  At least she squelched the SqueakyNoise this
time; two out of three wasn't bad.  The Spanish vampire had quite
enough to laugh about already.

Nodding her agreement of the comment, Valerie asked, "I don't suppose
you could lend him a hand?  This one really isn't fair."

He thought about it for a moment, then nodded.  "Okay.  I guess the
show's gone on long enough."

"Thanks.  I owe you one."

"Yep."   Vachon tapped Nick on the shoulder.  "Mind if I cut in?"

Nodding in relief, Nick passed Pod's hands to the younger vampire.
"Please."

"Niiiiiiiick!" Pod protested as Vachon turned her to face him with
some difficulty.

"Never mind, _pobrecita_.  Now listen to me..."


*********************************************************************


Swan Song (1/1)
 by Allison Percy, with approval from some fantasizing Knighties

Location:  The Raven, party in full force
Time:  Oh, I dunno, say 1:27am Saturday morning 8/10, or whenever it fits.


A small cluster of Knighties sat at a table in the back of the Raven
and grumbled that with all the people at the party, they weren't
getting close enough to Nick for their liking.  Just then, Allie
walked in with the large, oddly-shaped package she had brought back
from Toronto Trek the past Sunday morning.

"Wow, what a morose bunch of Knighties you all are," she laughed.

Dotti stuck her tongue out at Allie.  "Nicky-poo is busy and we know
we're all going to have to go home soon."

Lynn sighed heavily.  "I've been too shy this whole War to ask for a
kiss.  The rest of you all got kisses at some point."  Lynn was
staring particularly jealously at Dotti for some reason.  Dotti closed
her eyes and had a Nick Moment (tm), smiling contentedly.

Allie put the package on the table and started to rip off the paper
covering it.  "I have just the ticket.  Give me a hand here."  Dotti,
Carrie, Lynn, and Marg helped tear off the paper.  Within minutes, the
packaging was gone (carefully collected and deposited in the proper
receptacle by Marg, of course) and a familiar wooden harp sat on the
table.

Lynn practically jumped up and down.  "It's the swan harp!  From Queen
of Harps!  Where did you get it?"

Allie smiled.  "I went to a charity auction on Sunday morning.  I got
this harp for a song, so to speak.  And it came with a note explaining
that it's a *magic* harp.  If I play a certain tune, it will attract a
person who has a connection to the harp and put him in your power for
a 15 minutes."  The table of Knighties pondered the implications of
this.

"Nick has a long-standing connection to this harp," Marg pointed out.

Allie nodded.  "Uh-huh."

Dotti looked up at Allie, wide-eyed.  "And you know how to play that
magic tune?"

Allie nodded again and smiled.  "Yep.  I had a harpist I met at the
convention teach it to me before I left there."

Carrie practically bounced with excitement.  "Too kewl!"

Allie shot her a look that would have frozen a blowtorch.  Suddenly,
Carrie realized that her recent attack on her fellow Knightie might
have put her chances of benefitting from the magic harp in jeopardy.
Carrie said hesitantly, "Um, you *have* forgiven me about the attack,
haven't you?  After all, everyone kept saying that an attack was a
sincere form of affection in a list War, and you *know* that I love
you, girl!"

Allie narrowed her eyes at Carrie.  "Your payback will come later.
Yes, I'll let you use the harp, but only because you got me that teal
Bianchi with the mini-computer.  And the chocolates, of course."
Carrie sighed in relief.

Allie pulled out the music that she was going to have to play to bring
Nick over to their table, then started laying down the ground rules.
"OK, we've only got 15 minutes.  And I want to play fair.  Well, semi-
fair.  No undressing Nick.  Nothing R-rated, much less X-rated.
Nothing Nick would be *too* embarrassed about if he remembered it
later.  OK?"

The Knighties nodded in agreement, although Dotti was heard to mumble,
"Darn it!" after the rule about nothing X-rated was mentioned.

Allie waited for a lull in the Raven music the crowd was dancing to,
and then played the magic tune.  The table of Knighties looked out at
the crowd expectantly.

Across the room, Katherine Queen was having a conversation with Nick
when a thread of music wafted over toward them.  This music wasn't
like the typical Raven music -- although it did sound familiar.  "Do
you hear Fred's music?" Katherine said.  But Nick had gotten a faraway
look in his eyes and started wandering across the room toward the
source of the tune. Katherine followed him, curious to find the source
of the music.

Katherine got separated from Nick in the crowd, and by the time she
found him at a table with Knighties clustered around him, he was
already sitting on Allie's right knee with a contented smile on his
face.  Allie too had a very contented smile on her face, her hand on
his shoulder.

Dotti was practically bouncing up and down with eagerness.  "Come on,
can I, can I??"

Allie scowled at Dotti for interrupting her reverie, but she finally
assented.  "OK, but he stays on my knee while you do it."  Dotti
agreed eagerly.  Allie whispered something in Nick's ear, and he
mumbled, "Sure..."

Dotti moved to stand next to her Nicky-poo.  Running her fingers
through his curly blond mop of blond hair, she let her eyes close and
her head fall back as an ecstatic smile grew on her face.  "Fluffy..."
she mumbled.

Katherine wandered over to Marg to ask what was happening.  Marg
explained about the magic harp, suggesting that Katherine ask Allie if
she could join in, too.  Lynn got up from her seat and put her hands
on her hips.  "Hey, Dotti, enough already, he'll go bald if you keep
that up!  My turn, already!"  Dotti was simply too happy to get angry
at her fellow Knightie, so she stepped aside to let the others get
their shot at their favorite vampire.

Allie whispered something in Nick's ear again.  Nick got up and walked
over to Lynn, taking her by the shoulders.  "Lynn, I just wanted you
to know that I think you have the *sexiest* voice I've ever heard!"
The Knighties at the table got only a brief view at the look of utter
shock and embarrassment on Lynn's face before Nick planted a big,
soft, wet kiss right on her lips.

Time passed.  The kiss continued.  Eventually, Lynn's knees gave out
and she fell to the floor in a little heap.  And a very happy little
heap it was.

Nick wandered back to sit on Allie's knee again.  "Mmmm... soft..."
Allie could be heard to mumble as she rested her head on his shoulder.
Carrie came over and handed a copy of 'Knight Confessions' to Nick,
along with a black felt-tipped marker.  Allie whispered another
suggestion in his ear, and Nick autographed the story for the author. 
Carrie was rather embarrassed to note that he signed it, "To Carrie,
try to be gentle in future stories, love Nick."

Allie whispered in Nick's ear again.  Nick nodded and turned back to
Carrie.  "Now will you sign a copy for *me*?"  Awestruck, Carrie
pulled out another copy (she had a stash of them, of course) and took
the pen back from Nick, neatly writing down an inscription and signing
the story.

Katherine crept over and whispered her request in Allie's ear.
Allie's eyes brightened with amusement and she spoke to Nick again.
"Nick, I think Katherine could use a neck rub.  Would you mind?"

"Not at all," Nick said, still with that far-away look in his eyes.
Katherine sat on the floor in front of him and leaned back to enjoy
her neckrub.

Marg looked at her watch.  "Time's running out, gals."

Allie reluctantly let Nick stand up again.  "Marg, what did you want
to do with Nick while he's still ours?"

Marg whipped out a beautiful, hand-knit vest that she had been working
on throughout the War (whenever she wasn't busy knitting socks). It
had 25-30 different colors in it reminiscent of a medieval Book of
Hours, the pattern inspired by the Book of Kells.  "I want Nick to
wear this."

Allie admired the vest, but she was surprised.  "What, no kiss?  No
neckrub?"

Marg just smiled and shook her head.  "Nah... getting him to accept a
present isn't easy, and getting him to go back to his second-season
wardrobe tendencies is even harder.  Just ask him to wear the vest for
me."

Allie nodded and whispered once more in Nick's ear.  Nick put on the
vest, and then the dreamy look in his eyes began to fade.  "Um... hi
everyone.  How did I get over here?"  He noticed the beautiful vest
and felt the yarn appreciatively.  "Wow... I have no idea how I got
this vest, but it's wonderful.  Makes me miss some of my old clothes,
most of which I can't wear anymore because of all the bullet holes."

Nick looked at the story he held in his hand.  "Knight Confessions --
oh, cool, an autographed copy!  Carrie, I'm so glad we worked things
out between us.  I understand much better why my followers write such
things about me."

He read the inscription on the story.  "To Nick," she had written,
"never forget that there is a reason for you.  You *do* deserve to be
loved. Have faith, Carrie."  Tears began to form in Nick's eyes.  He
gathered Carrie in a warm hug.

Suddenly Nick noticed the harp sitting on the table.  "How did that
get here?  I thought it was supposed to be in Wales."

Allie jumped in with a carefully-prepared reply.  "Someone
accidentally let it go onto the antique art market -- I picked it up a
week ago at a charity auction.  Don't worry, I'll donate it right back
to the Museum of the Giant's Hand in Carreg.  It has already served
its purpose here, anyway."  Nick seemed to accept the explanation.

Someone called out to Nick from the other side of the room, and he
smiled at the small cluster of his followers.  "Gotta go.  See you!"

The group of Knighties sighed wistfully (in unison, of course).

Lynn had climbed up from her heap on the floor and was trying to
figure out whether she could avoid ever washing her lips again.  Marg
sat back down to start knitting a sweater for... well, for whichever
vampire or mortal needed a sweater in the next War.  Katherine
wandered off, looking relaxed after her neckrub.  Dotti looked down at
her hands and realized that she had accidentally pulled a whole clump
of Nick's hair out while she was fondling it.  She stuffed the clump
of hair in her pocket quickly, before anyone else could notice.

Allie gathered up the harp and picked her way through a forest of
chairs toward the door.  "Ow!" she cried as she bashed her right knee
into a chair she hadn't noticed until too late.  "Not the same knee,
again!"  She grumbled as she took the harp out, its magic well spent.

-fin-

Many, many thanks to all whose creativity, energy, organizational
skills, patience, and sense of humor made this War great fun.  I
wonder if I'll ever get all the War posts read!!

Thanks,


*********************************************************************


Crazy as the Cracks in This Old Guitar
by Perri Smith with the Leader Loop

Aug 10, 3:30 a.m. or thereabouts
The Raven

At the end of the Raven party


The party was going full swing, with no signs of slowing and no
visible crises, Perri mused over her Baileys -- Nick had managed to
survive every conversation so far, no one had killed anyone else, and
Knighties and NatPackers were drinking together more or less happily.
Not a bad night's work.

Except that there were a few Knighties and NatPackers not drinking
together.... She downed her drink, got another, caught Cath's eye, and
crossed the room to Jennie's table. "Can we talk somewhere?"

"Sure," Jennie said without looking up, staring somewhat cross-eyed
into her drink, which was, Perri noticed with satisfaction, *not*
orange. Looked like the reversed whammy had stuck. "The office?" she
suggested after a second.

"Why not? Eeveryone else is." Perri headed over and Jennie dragged
herself to her feet to follow; Valerie tagged along apparently for the
hell of it, and Perri didn't feel like protesting.

Jennie closed the door behind all of them. Someone had stashed a table
and chairs in here at one point -- probably a good thing, given all of
that evening's conferences -- and they made a beeline for it.

"Thanks." Perri pulled out a chair and sank into it, hiding her bare
feet -- she'd disposed of her soggy shoes hours before -- under the
table. Jennie followed suit. "Jeez, I haven't been to a party like
this since Sanctuary. Music's better here, though."

"At least no one's shouting 'Let's get naked'," Jennie agreed, looking
up with a small smile. Valerie snorted into her drink, taking a seat
across from the other two.

"Give 'em time," Perri grinned, slouching down in her seat and kicking
her feet out. "If certain members of this crew get drunk enough,
there's no telling what'll happen. It's been that kind of war."

"Tell me about it," Jennie groaned, taking a long drink. "I need
sleep. Why does everything in a war happen at night?"

"Vampires," Perri and Valerie explained succinctly and simultaneously.

"Right." Jennie stared into her drink some more. "I'm sorry I didn't
tell you about Natalie," she said abruptly.

Perri shrugged. "You were keeping her safe, I know. I'll live, so will
she. End of story. Besides, if I'd known where she was, I don't think
I would have been able to keep it from Nick, and who knows what would
have happened."

"Yeah." Jennie smiled again. "Things could have gotten *really* ugly."

Perri started to comment, stopped and took another drink. "Right. And
I'm sorry I got in your face a little while ago."

"Me, too," Jennie agreed softly.

Then Perri grinned again, mischievously.. "But I'm *not* sorry about
the bucket of water."

Jennie started laughing instantly. "Well, I'm not sorry about putting
the hose down your shirt, so there!"

Perri started laughing as well, and the tension between them was gone.
It was that easy.

"At least someone's having fun," Cath said, pulling up a chair of her
own, having somehow managed to open the door without any of the others
noticing. "Someone just tried to pick me up."

"Mortal or vamp?" Perri asked curiosly.

"Hey, I'm not sure if it was male or female," Cath said with disgust,
which naturally set the other two off again.

"Too much fun in here," Dianne said, appearing next to them, Christina
behind her. "We'll have to get someone to cite you for that -- I think
it's against the rules."

"We are Warmistress," Cath shrugged. "We make the rules."

"Hah," Torrey said mildly from Perri's other side, Sherri echoing her.
"We don't need no stinking rules."

"Hey," Lisa McDavid and Tok protested, "That's a Cousin line."

Perri looked around her, mystified. "Where did you all come from?"

"Illinois." "California." "Washington."

Perri rolled her eyes as everyone wise-cracked at once. "Never mind."

"Are we having a meeting?" Partly asked perkily, materializing out of
thin air, Soulseeker right next to her.

"Did we move the party in here?" Tigon waved her mineral water in
greeting, cradling Timon with the other hand.

"No, it's a meeting," Felicia said.

"If it was a meeting, more fur would be flying," Susan observed. She
and Cynthia were carrying trays of appropriate drinks. Laura was
behind them; Perri was beyond surprise at everyone's ability to walk
through walls.

"True," Dianne agreed, reaching for her Virgin Blood. Perri and Cath
instantly started snickering and got a dirty look from the Merc.
"Like, very cute," she snarled.

Perri and Cath only grinned wider. "You know, everyone's going to be
wondering what we're doing in here," Cath pointed out.

"Let 'em," Jennie waved their respective factions off. "We've got more
important things to do."

"Amen. Let's fight."

"Noooo... I have a better idea."

********

An hour later, they still hadn't emerged, and said factions were
starting to wonder.

"What do you think they're doing in there?" a Knightie actually
whispered to a Cousin.

The Cousin just looked mystified. "Leader stuff, I guess. Either that,
or they decided to hold a duel."

The two listened for death cries, then exchanged looks. "Nah!"

"Sure must be important, though," a nearby NatPacker mused.

A Die-Hard yawned. "Yeah, they haven't even come out for more drinks."

"There's a refrigerator in there," a Ravenette pointed out.

"They're plotting," a Merc decided. "The overthrow of USA Network, I
bet."

"Yeah," everyone agreed enthusiastically. Then, having decided that
their leaders were involved in important, appropriately leader-like
work, they went back to partying, secure in the world.

*******

Snores filled the air. The leaders were sprawled everywhere, sleeping
their first uninterrupted sleep since arriving in Toronto. Perri was
on the floor, her head resting on Jennie, who had produced a NatMare
seemingly from thin air to use as a pillow. Valerie shared the tail of
the NatMare. Partly lay on her back under Janette's desk, while Lisa
had appropriated the top; Susan snored in the chair. Cynthia half-sat,
half-lay on the floor using Susan's feet as a pillow. Cath was at the
table, head down on the wood -- and scribbled quotes all over her
body, where someone (read: Jennie and Perri) had run out of paper for
a quote list and resorted to every single wall and, finally, Cath.

Christina was curled in a uncomfortable-looking knot next to Tigon and
Timon (the vamp-rat was using the Merc as a bed); Laura snoozed in a
corner next to Felicia. Soulseeker slept quietly in a heap with Torrey
and Sherri, while Dianne sprawled on her back in front of the open and
emptied refrigerator, her feet inside and her arms outstretched.

Peacefully, they dreamed of vampires and caddies and trips to Toronto
and laughter and chocolate.


*********************************************************************


A Conversation With Nick (1/1)
by Sandra Gray, Knightie
Saturday, August 10, sometime after returning to the loft after the
Raven party (whatever time suits)


Sandra jerked awake, head throbbing slightly.  She looked around in
some confusion for LaCroix, then realized with relief that she had
only been dreaming of him again and she was in the loft.  The other
Knighties were all dead to the world around her.

Sandra got up off the floor, a little dizzily.  She still had some
remnants of her drunken state apparently, although she could tell she
was heading for one hell of a hangover.  But at the moment she really
needed to use the bathroom.

She picked her way over to the stairs and up them, trying to remain
quiet.  It was only after she was in the upstairs bathroom that she
remembered the bathroom downstairs.  "Oh well, fogged brains go with
the territory," she thought she thought (but actually said).

She finished and washed her hands.  She remembered to cut off the
light before opening the door so as not to disturb anyone.  But when
she opened the door, she almost shrieked at the male outline in front
of her.  A hand quickly covered her mouth and Nick's voice whispered,
"It's just me, Nick."  He removed his hand.

Sandra let out a huge breath.  "Geez, you scared me!" she whispered.

"Sorry," he whispered back.

"It's okay.  Sorry if I disturbed you."

"Actually, you didn't.  I've been wanting to talk to you."

Sandra couldn't see his face too well in the dark hallway, so couldn't
judge his expression.  "Now?"

"Yeah.  We can talk in my bedroom."

Sandra blinked twice, wondering if she was still dreaming, but didn't
resist as Nick took her arm and guided her over to his bedroom door.
He ushered her inside and she blinked again as he switched on the
light.  "Have a seat," he said, gesturing toward the bed.  Sandra
hesitated, looking at him.  It didn't help that he was clad in black
silk pajamas and his red brocade robe.

"Better not go there," she thought.

"What?" asked Nick.

She realized she'd spoken aloud again and felt her face getting warm.
"Um, sorry," she said.  "Um, could this wait until later?  I don't
think I--"

"It's about LaCroix, what happened at the Raven earlier."  His
expression was serious, but concerned, and he looked disinclined to
step away from his spot in front of the door.  Sandra turned away and
sat a bit unsteadily on the corner of Nick's bed.

"Great," she murmured, then realized she'd spoken another thought
aloud.  She looked up at Nick with wide eyes.  "I'm not a Cousin!"

"Shhhh!" hissed Nick, approaching her.  He smiled and said, "I know."
He sat beside her on the bed and took her hand.  "I heard some of your
conversation with him."

Sandra looked away, and tried to ignore the sensations his nearness
and the touch of his hand on hers was having.  He released her hand
and moved away from her a bit.  She looked at him.  "I just hoped
you'd give me some more details." he said.

"Details?"

"I heard LaCroix mention giving you some tapes and account
information."

Sandra looked at the floor.  "It was after the last war...about two
weeks.  He brought what he said were all the videotapes of...he and I
in the wine cellar."

"What did you do with them?"

"I destroyed them."

"And the account information?"

"He gave me information about an account he said he'd opened for me
to...get revenge."

"Did he say...why he was doing what he was doing?"

Sandra shook her head.  "No.  Well, other than if I used the account,
I would agree to become a Cousin."  She paused and added, "It didn't
make any sense."  Then she looked at him suddenly and added, "I didn't
use it."

Nick studied her for a moment, his expression turning a bit guilty. "I
haven't been of much help to you with getting revenge, have I? I'm
sorry."

Sandra looked back at the floor.  This serious talk was getting her
more sober.  "It's okay," she said.  "My problems pale by comparison
to yours."  Nick stood up and paced the room.  He seemed to be more
agitated and she frowned, wondering what else was wrong.  Finally he
stopped and looked at her.

"Sandra, I..."  He came back over to the bed and sat down again.  "I
have something to tell you.  It's part of why I wanted to talk with
you privately, since I don't know...what you'll think."  He paused.
Sandra stared at him, feeling a bit of dread.  It was his turn to look
at the floor.  "Remember when I said I'd find out how you... survived
being locked up with LaCroix?"

Sandra looked at her feet, not wanting to have the memory of Nick's
anger at her when he'd found her alive in the cellar.  But it came
anyway.  She pushed it aside and said, "Yes."

"Well, I found out that information at the Raven."  Sandra looked at
Nick.  He raised his blue gaze to her.  "Sandra...I found out you're
a...direct mortal descendant of LaCroix."

Sandra stared at him open mouthed for a moment, then blinked and said,
"What?"

"It's true.  I...didn't know if you'd want it mentioned in front of
the others."

Sandra stood up and walked away from Nick.  LaCroix was her...great,
great, great, whatever...*grandfather*?

Nick came up behind her and said, "Apparently he...kept track of his
mortal descendants.  And he's...well...big on family."  Sandra turned
and looked at Nick.  "Well, I know it's not enough, but...I thought
you'd like to know why you survived."

"Yeah," said Sandra.  "Thank you.  For telling me privately too."

Nick smiled tentatively and said, "Guess that sort of makes us kin."

Sandra smiled.  "Kissing cousins?"  Then she realized what she'd said
and clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling her face getting warm
again.  She removed her hand and said, "Sorry.  Too many Zombies, I
guess.  Um, can I go now?"

"Sure," said Nick.  "We both need some sleep."  He put an arm around
her and walked her over to the door.  He switched off the light and
opened the door.  After a moment to get used to the dark, Sandra
walked away, pondering the new wrinkle in her existence.


*********************************************************************


A Conversation with LaCroix (1/1)
by Sandra Gray, Knightie
(with permission of Lisa McDavid)
Saturday, August 10, sometime in the early a.m. (wherever it fits)


Sandra stepped out of the bathroom and looked around.  Where was
Bruce?  Still in the men's room?  He was usually quicker than her.

"He's gone to the bar," came a male voice and Sandra looked up to find
LaCroix suddenly way too close beside her for comfort.

Swallowing, she said, "Thank you," and started to step away from him. 
A cool hand on her elbow detained her and made her heart leap into her
throat.

"Allow me to get you a drink," said the vampire.  "I won't...bite."
His cold blue gaze was unnerving and she looked away.

"Let go of me."

"Now that would be impolite of me as your escort.  And I am hurt,
considering that you once wanted me to be...much closer."  He moved
closer to her, and almost whispered the last two words into her ear.

Sandra's mind filled with an image of LaCroix's white marble body
pressing against her body as she laid on the floor of the Raven wine
cellar, his cool lips on hers...  She felt the heat rising in her body
and tried to push the memory away.

"Actually I am disappointed in you," continued LaCroix.

"Disappointed?" said Sandra, her mind focusing back on the present.

"When I gave you the tapes and the account information, I expected you
to take revenge against those who...wronged you, last war."

"This wasn't supposed to be a war.  I came here to help Nick."

"Ah, yes, Nicolas," sighed LaCroix.  "He does seem to inspire loyalty
in *most* of his followers."

They had reached the end of the bar.  Sandra looked at LaCroix. "At
least his followers don't *attack* him," she said. LaCroix's eyes
darkened and his grip on her elbow tightened slightly. She worried
that she had gone too far, but he suddenly let her go, his eyes
shifting beyond her.

"Zombie, wasn't it?" he asked, then signalled the bartender.

A recognizable white hand came down on the bar beside Sandra and
Nick's voice said, "What are you doing, LaCroix?"

"Just getting the...lady a drink," LaCroix replied, as a Zombie was
set in front of Sandra.  The vampire bowed slightly and moved away.

Sandra looked up at Nick, whose blue eyes were questioning.  Then
Bruce was suddenly there beside him.  Nick glanced at Bruce and moved
away.


*********************************************************************


A Letter to the Perkulators (1/1)
by Tigon Diana Hooker/AlphaWoof~WoofPack (and lawyer's kid)
Saturday/10 AUG 1996/Daytime

Delivered by Process Server and Signed For by a Perkulator


Madam,

My client has retained me to represent her in your claim that she is
responsible for damages incurred by you during a flea infestation.
Your primary support that she and her affiliation, the WoofPack, is
responsible is a copy of the letter below.


"Noswaith dda,

Your headquarters and members have been infested with vampire fleas.
While we're sure you want to solve this situation on your own, we feel
that we should point out certain possible hazards.

1. Anything that can kill a vampire flea will probably seriously
   harm any vampires that the flea might be infesting.

2. While it's obvious that the fleas will combust in the sun...a
   warning. Enough of the fleas combusting at once *can* combust
   the person or object the fleas are infesting. The same holds
   true for most other vampiric remedies.

3. Flea sprays and whatnot will have no effect, so don't destroy
   the ozone any more than it already is. A bright note, vampfleas
   don't breed.

Have fun...we did!


Upon review of this document, I'm sure you'll notice that nowhere in
this letter does my client and her group claim responsibility for your
infestation. According to my client, it was while she was returning
some articles of clothing to you that she herself was infested. Having
dealt with these things before, she thought it a courtesy to inform
you that you were obviously infested, and to warn you of potential
dangers.

If you persist in pressing your suit, my client will be forced to file
a countersuit for her own damages as a result of infestation, as well
as sue you for slander.

Sincerly,

Hal Greenburg, Esq.


*********************************************************************


I Am Outta Here!
By Diane Echelbarger & AJ Schaafsma, unaffiliated, and
Carla Pickering, Vaquera

Dr. Wetmore used with permission of Lana Soward

Saturday, August 10, 10:03am

Toronto General Hospital

"Now remember," Dr. Wetmore told his patient, "You're not to exert
yourself for the next few days.  Use that wheelchair if you have to go
anywhere, and rest at the first sign of fatigue.  I really should keep
you here for at least another day, you know."

"I promise," Diane told him with complete sincerity.  Bad enough she'd
missed most of the War, and Nick and Nat's reunion last night (not to
mention the water fight and karaoke fest).  She'd have promised almost
anything to avoid missing the rest of the parties.

"Good."  The doctor-- who really did look amazingly like LaCroix--
smiled at her and walked away.

AJ, who was standing behind her friend's wheelchair, said, "Shall we
go?"

"Definitely!  Get me *outta* here!" Diane agreed.

They moved to the fourth-floor elevator and rode down to the lobby. As
AJ pushed her friend toward the entrance, a tall, fiftyish woman, with
short, heavily frosted, reddish-blond hair and wire-rimmed glasses,
rose from a seat in the waiting area.

"Diane?" she asked.  "I'm Carla Pickering.  I volunteered to help you
get around while you're stuck in that thing."  She smiled sheepishly.
"We never meant for this to happen.  Honest."

"I know," Diane assured her with a smile.  "I was pretty stupid,
really.  I *do* know better than to get between a hungry vampire and
his food supply."  She turned to AJ.  "You still want to stick around,
or do you have better things to do with your time?"

"I'll stick around," AJ replied.  "Carla might want some help pushing
you up hills or something."

"Okay, then why don't you bring the car around?" Diane suggested,
fishing her keys out of her pocket.  <Thank God the 'Pack didn't take
*them*, too,> she thought.  <And I can't believe my car wasn't towed;
it was in that all-night deli's lot for almost two weeks!>

"Will do."  AJ took the keys and disappeared in the general direction
of the parking lot.

"Can you drive a stick shift?" Diane asked her new chair-pusher.

Carla assured her she could, then added, "Um... Torrey said I was
supposed to ask you for the hospital bill?  The Vaqueros are covering
it."

"There isn't one," Diane replied with a grin, and when the Vaquera
looked puzzled, she explained.

"I was going to let the confusion with the attack on me Thursday
slide," she began.  "After all, it wasn't their fault.  But yesterday
afternoon, this really smarmy lawyer-type came up to my room and tried
to get me to sign a form releasing the hospital from any
responsibility for my falling out of bed and being dressed up like
that. The weasel actually had the nerve to tell me it was 'a standard
release form'."  She scowled, and the Vaquera snorted sympathetically.
"Anyway, having someone assume I'm stupid always gets me gets me
riled, so I told him off."   Diane's scowl turned into a grin at the
memory.  "By the time I was done telling him exactly how many things I
could legally sue the hospital for, *and* suggesting that my friend,
Tawny Teller (ed note: the reporter from Unreality TV) would *love* to
do an expose on how the hospital hired people who dressed their
unconscious patients in kinky costumes, he was ready to agree to just
about anything."  She shrugged. "So I got him to write off my hospital
bills.  No billing me, my insurance, nobody."

"Well, that's a relief," the Vaquera said.  "Because, to be honest, we
weren't sure how we were going to pay it."

At that moment, a rust-speckled white Chevy Sprint pulled up to the
loading zone.

"That's my car," Diane said, and Carla pushed her through the
automatic doors.

"Where to first?" Carla asked, when Diane was ensconced in the front
passenger seat, her wheelchair was stowed in the back, and AJ had
scrunched herself into the cramped back seat.

"The ROM," Diane replied.  "I want to see that exhibit."


*********************************************************************


Good Knight, Sweetheart (1/2)
by the Knighties

Aug 10, 1:30 p.m.
The *Knighties'* Loft

Maryann looked around the loft.  It had been fun (kind of wet, but
fun). She knew that she would see everyone again.  But that was for
the next War. She would be flying home with Tigon and the WoofPack on
the jet that Jody had provided.

She walked over and hugged Marcia good bye.  "I've got your Knightie
shirt done.  I'll get it to you as soon as I can."

Marcia replied, "Thanks, after my ironing mishap with the first one,
I'm glad you're handling it.  I'll look for it in snail mail."

Next came the good-byes to Dottie, Allie and the rest of the
Knighties. "Thanks for everything",  Maryann said, giving Cath and
Perri a hug.  "This was great.  You two should start Wars more often."
Then, with a sideways glance at Nick, "Or maybe he should."

Next came Nick.  The whole reason that they were all here. (That, plus
the added attraction of causing a little mayhem)  "Be careful on the
way home", Nick said as he enveloped Maryann in bear hug.  "Thanks for
coming when I needed you."

The kiss on her forehead and the hug made her day (or Knight).  With a
soft "You're welcome, I'd do it anytime"  Maryann was ready to leave.

*******

Katrinka made the rounds, hugging everyone she met, then scooped up
her luggage. She sure hoped her professors would take late
assignments, or she was going to be in a whole lot of trouble when she
got back to school. And she hoped her child hadn't forgotten about
mommy after all this time.

*******

Nancy finished her packing and sighed.  It was going to be nearly as
hard leaving her new friends as it had been to leave her family and
travel to Toronto in the first place.

As a newbie to the Wars, she really hadn't expected to see much
action, but the adventures she had had with her new-found friends
warmed her.  She knew she would take back fond memories of her first
war.  She looked around the loft and spotted a knot of Knighties
telling Nick goodbye.  She, of course, went over to receive her
farewell hug from her favorite vamp.  She then sought out Perri and
Cath and thanked them for inviting her.  "Hope that you'll see fit to
call me again for the next war," she smiled at her co-leaders, giving
them both big hugs.

They returned the hugs with enthusiasm.

Robbi, her partner in mayhem for the war, came to hug her goodbye.
Nancy was nearly in tears at the parting. She had to hug Carrie and
Dotti too, as well as her fellow war correspondents Marg, Suze, and
Katrinka.  She spotted Karen in another corner and went to hug her
too.  It had been a fine war, with many new friends made.

Nancy was most definately looking forward to her next trip to
Toronto.... (and her family was just going to have to *cope*!)

********

Karen moved around the loft, distributing packets of fresh-baked
cookies to each Knightie. She had made her best effort to find out
everyone's favorites and had spent several hours baking so everyone
would have something for the road. (A package had been shipped to Amy
as well. Just because she wasn't here, didn't mean she didn't deserve
a treat!)  Many hugs were exchanged as she made her way through the
Knighties.

When she reached Nick, he looked pointedly at her now empty hands.

"What, nothing for me?," he pouted, pretending hurt.

"Don't worry, Nick. I left a nice bowl of raw cookie dough in the
fridge for you."

"Ugh!" He pretended to shudder, but was smiling. This was an old joke
between them.

They hugged, then she pulled back and looked up at him. "You _will_
keep in touch this time? No more disappearing acts?"

"No disappearing acts." he affirmed, reaching again to adjust the one
lock of hair he knew drove her crazy.

He hugged her again and she felt his kiss on her hair.

Then she reached for her suitcase and headed for the elevator. Turning
back, she waved to the remaining Knighties, and called "See you all
next time!"

*****

Marcia's van was loaded and ready to go. They'd stop at the airport
first, with the first wave of travelors, then head back to the States.
Perri waved good-bye to Julie, hugged Kathy one last time, and watched
them pull out of the garage.

Inside, it was still minor chaos. She sat on Marg's suitcases, teasing
her about bringing her whole life to stay at a place almost next dor
to her home. She mediated a fight over the Casa Loma souveniers
between Suzanne and Robbi, and firmly forced Dottie to return Nick's
socks to him, so he could finish packing.

********

Sandra watched out the window as the first wave of Knighties made
their departure.  As they pulled away, she saw Bruce round the corner
in his rental car.  She turned away from the window and walked over to
Catherine and Perri.  "Bruce is here," she said. "Well, it's been
interesting, but I'll be glad to get back to the mundane world, my
daughter's swimming lessons, and my bed!"  The field marshalls laughed
and Sandra smiled.  Then she sobered and said, "Thanks for including
me, Perri."

Perri shrugged, grinning just a little. "Hey, it wouldn't be a war
without Sandra, you know."

Sandra said her goodbyes to them and the Knighties still left. Bruce
had come up and was talking to Allie.  Sandra walked over to Nick.  "I
hope you'll keep better track of your accounts in the future."

Nick smiled sheepishly.  "I will.  I promise."

"Well, take care of yourself."  She felt tears start in her eyes and
blinked.

Nick glanced over at Bruce, then back at Sandra.  "I hope he won't
mind," he said in a low voice.

"What?"

"This," he said and caught Sandra into a tight hug.  "Thanks," he
whispered into her ear.  He kissed her cheek.  Then he pulled back
slightly and looked at her with a wry smile.  "You didn't really think
you were going to get away without one of these, did you?"

Sandra squeezed his arms, then wiped at the tears on her cheeks. She
moved back and he released her.  "'Bye, Nick," she said, then added
with a slight smile,  "If you're ever in my neck of the woods, come
and visit."

Nick smiled wider.  "I will.  'Bye, Sandra.  Take care.  And give Amy
my regards."

Sandra smiled and said, "I will."  Then she turned and walked over to
Bruce.

"You ready?" he said.

"Yeah."  He picked up her suitcase.  She took his arm and after a
final "'Bye all!", they left the loft.

********

The second wave left with Marg. Siona, Paula and Karen Swanson shouted
good-byes from the window until they turned the corner at the end of
the street.

Katherine, Bobbie and Melissa collected their Nick hugs and caught a
cab, teary-eyes but smiling. Courtney, Dottie and Robbi collected even
longer hugs, and regards for Amy Rambow and Nina, before they, too,
took off.

Allie was just about the last non-leader to leave; she leaned against
Nick for a long time before smiling up at him. "You *will* stay in
touch this time, won't you?"

He grinned down at her and nodded. "Of course I will. I'm afaid to do
anything else."

"Well, you should be," she laughed, kissing his cheek and putting on
her bike helmet. "Don't forget to give my good-bye note to Carrie.
You, uh, can give the old bike to charity or something.  It's too red
for me now." She rolled her spiffy new, teal green Bianchi racing bike
into the loft elevator.

"Take care of each other," Allie said to Cath and Perri. They nodded
in synch, exchanged hugs, then waved her on her way.

Allie blew Nick a last kiss as the loft elevator closed, then started
playing with the Minipad computer and checking her e-mail.


*********************************************************************


Good Knight, Sweetheart (2/2)
by Allison Percy

Aug 10, 2:00 p.m.
The *Knighties'* Loft

Immediately after part 1

Perri and Cath headed up to the bedroom to try to finish packing.
Nick went up to the balcony and looked down at the loft, which now
seemed quite empty and sad without all the sleeping bags and snoring
Knighties on the floor.

Just then, Carrie arrived back at the loft from her last-minute
shopping. She looked around, surprised to find it seemingly empty.
Had all the other Knighties gone home already?  Hadn't anyone bothered
to find her and say good-bye?  She was still trying to decide whether
to feel hurt when a voice called to her from the balcony above.

"Carrie."  She looked up and saw Nick.

"Hi," she mumbled morosely.  She was really starting to think that
maybe the other Knighties were avoiding her.  She hadn't *meant* to
cause the others to distrust her -- everyone kept saying that attack
was a sincere form of *affection*, for goodness sake!

"I heard you had some trouble with Allie," Nick called down to the
sulking Knightie.

"Yeah, I don't think she'll forgive me until she's had a chance to
retaliate.  And I think it's too late to do that -- there is only a
little bit of time left before the end of the war!"

Nick smiled at her impishly.  "I wouldn't worry too much about that.
What did she say to you when she found out that you were the one who
had her covered in red body paint?"

Carrie winced at the reminder.  "Basically, she said I was in trouble.
In her own cute little way."

Nick pressed her with another question.  "No, what *exactly* did she
say when she found out.  I'm curious."

Carrie looked at him, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
"She said I was toast," Carrie whispered.

Nick was silent for a moment.  "Could you say that louder?"

Carrie was a bit confused.  Nick's vampiric hearing should have picked
up that whisper, although admittedly it was too quiet for human ears
to discern.  But just to indulge her favorite vampire, she repeated
herself more loudly.

"Allie said, and I quote, 'OH...MY...GOD!!! SHE'S TOAST!!!!'"

As Carrie said these words, the voice-activated trigger above her
recognized the words and released the hatch to the box hanging from
the ceiling -- a box which Carrie had helpfully not noticed thanks to
a patented Convenient Plot Device, or CPD (tm), which Allie had
developed.

A huge pile of toasted bread fell down in a shower on the unwitting
nurse/hampster.  For several minutes the deluge continued -- whole
wheat toast, white toast, burnt toast, French toast, toast with jam of
a dozen different varieties.  English muffins with orange marmalade,
toasted bagels with cream cheese, and even a few generously buttered
scones dropped down on her head.

After several minutes, Carrie decided that the deluge had probably
stopped and began wading out from the huge pile of various types of
toast.  She was covered in jam, cream cheese, cinnamon sugar, and
melted butter.  Her outfit was ruined.  She just now noticed that
someone had moved the furniture out of the way before she arrived
(another CPD [tm]).

Nick walked down the stairs and stared at the jam-covered, "toasted"
Knightie.  Another English muffin belatedly dropped out of the box
above, bounced off the pile of toast, and landed on Carrie's shoulder.
Marmalade-side down, of course.  "I believe this makes you the Toasted
Knightie, then."  Carrie stared back at him with a dazed look in her
eyes. A large dollop of black currant jelly was slowly dripping down
her nose.

Nick handed Carrie a note and walked back up the stairs, turning to
say over his shoulder, "Oh, by the way -- the other Knighties all
voted to have you clean up the loft.  They'd like it spic-and-span
before it's closed up for the next war."

Carrie groaned and looked at the note Nick had given to her.  She
recognized Allie's handwriting.

  Carrie --

  Yeah, attack is a sincere form of affection, girl.
  I must really love you, then.

  Your buddy,
  Allie the Red

  P.S. Retribution is fun -- thanks for letting me find out!


Perri appeared to look over the railing. "Geez, what kind of a
Knightie attacks her own," she grinned without malice.

Groaning again, crumpling up the note and tossing it into the pile of
toast, Carrie stumbled over to the closet to get out the mops and
brooms.


*********************************************************************


The Nick&Nat Pack's Forever Night (1/?)
by Raymond E. Heuer & the N&NPack
Sunday, August 11, 1996, 9:00 PM
Die-Hard HQ

The N&NPackers arrived at the Museum fashionably late and in small
groups (due to the lack of forethought given to parking facilities by
the Die-Hards).  They showed their invitations to the guard, who by
this time had given up checking and just waved them all through.



"Hey, Souvlaki!" cried several N&NPackers.  "And Pizza!" answered
others.

"No matter what the Affiliation, everyone is a FoD at heart," said one
of the caterers from the Happy Souvlaki Deli.

"Besides," said Friday, "the extra garlic acts as a deterent in ...
shall we say ... mixed company?"

"No need to mince words, my dear," said Ron the Enforcer, appearing,
as usual, out of thin air.

"Or garlic either," said the caterer, "we use crushed garlic, not
minced."

"Where did you come from?" asked Friday, finally regaining the power
of speech.

"That, my dear, is an _extremely_ long story," said Ron.

"Ron the Enforcer, I presume," said Ray.

"Not an Enforcer today.  You might say I'm off-duty."

"Friday, this is Ron the Enforcer, Die-Hard co-leader, and our host
for the evening."

"One of them, anyway," added Ron.

"But I thought Enforcers were never off-duty," said Friday.

"To every rule, there are exceptions,  Besides," Ron growled, "if I
_weren't_ off-duty, I'd be forced to dipose of everyone at this
opening. That would cast somewhat of a pall on the proceedings, don't
you agree?"

"You could bring us all over," said Idalia.  Something in her voice
suggested that she might be volunteering.

"I think I'd better bring you all inside, instead."

"Will you be giving us the tour yourself?" Ray asked.

"Yes. Since some of you are also of the 'Nat Vamp Camp'," the Enforcer
made a face as if he found the words distasteful, "it could be said
that your contingent supports two vampires."  He paused.  "Or one-and-
a-half, perhaps. In any case, it was ... decided ... that I would be
your tour guide.  The tour itself will only take 10 or 15 minutes, and
then you may enjoy the Museum and this eating area as you please.

"One last thing, as the sign notes, there is no eating drinking, or
smoking allowed inside the Museum."

The N&NPackers followed the Enforcers pointing finger.  Below the
printed words were written, "However, Drooling over, Lusting about,
and Coveting objects contained herein is o-kay."  The Enforcer either
didn't notice them, or pretended not to notice.



"I'm told that they have a room for each Affiliation," Ray said to
Idalia, "and a few spares for Affiliations that don't exist yet."

"Do you suppose they have a room for Thomas?" she asked.

"The kid vampire from _Father's Day_?"

"Yeah.  Pat McLaughlin only started an Affiliation a few days before
the War."

"Yes, but Thomas has been a major figure in fanfic, so I guess they'll
have something for him."

"Maybe one large room for all those great characters that only
appeared in one episode," suggested Susan.

"Like Feliks Twist and Francesca?" asked Ray.

"And Miklos, don't forget Miklos," said Heather, nudging Ray in the
ribs.

"Here's the entrance," said Ray trying not to chuckle, "should we wait
for the others?"

"That might take all night, but we should at least wait for Laura,"
said Susan.

"Have you noticed how tired she looks?" asked Idalia.

"Warleader fatigue, it'll pass with the first good night's sleep after
the War," said Ray, trying to sound like the veteran he wasn't.

"'The Forever Knight Museum:  Enter Here'," said Laura, reading the
large sign posted by the entrance.  "I guess we go in here."

Continued in (How'd you guess?) Part 2


*********************************************************************


The N&NPack's Forever Night 2/3
by Raymond E. Heuer & the N&NPack
Inside the Forever Knight Museum
Sunday, August 11,1996
(Immediately follows Part 1)

"Naturally enough," began Ron the Enforcer, "the tour begins here at
the entry way.  Over there will be the cashier's window for ticket
sales. Tonight we are using it for a coat check, should anyone feel
overdressed." He paused, glancing down at his own trademark duster,
but made no attempt to remove it.  A few of the N&NPackers removed
coats and jacket, but most of the women retained their sweaters.
Switching back to Tour Guide mose, Ron continued, "You will notice a
number of video monitors, intermixed with several publicity photos.
The vidoe clips were chosen for visual effect, and are intermixed
according to a rigorous mathematical model relating to each
character's time on screen.  There is also another discriminator
program that ensures that the same clip is never shown on two monitors
at once.  The photos were chosen to balance the clips, and, as you can
see, include the cast photos from all three seasons, individual shots
and pairs shots, one for each affilation devoted to one or more major
characters ..."

"How did you decide which characters were _major_?" asked Scott.

"'Listed before the first commercial' was the criterion, I believe.
It eliminated Divia and Perri, but you have to draw the line
somewhere."

Further discussion was cut off by Tia's "Here's they are!  Kewl!"  The
N&Ners clustred around a photo of, naturally, Nick and Nat.  Nat was
wearing something off both shoulders, and Nick was nuzzling her right
cheek from behind.

"Where is this from?" asked Heather.

"Don't _you_ know?" replied Ron.

They were cut off by a "Look, it's Nat facing down LC in _NiQ_!" from
Ray.

"Yes, well, if you'll all follow me..." Ron headed for the next room,
not noticing (or caring) who followed.

"This is the model prop room.  In this large case in the center is a
scale model of the city of Toronto, complete with scale model
individual trees and cars.  You will notice from the lack of traffic
jams in the downtown section that it is only loosely based in reality.

"Along the walls are the large props.  There is the spear carried by
Marion Blackwing's grandfather in _Blackwing_, over there, the (no
longer-)flaming stake used against LaCroix in _Dark Knight_, and at
the far end of the room, the cross Nick burned his hand on in _For I
Have Sinned_"

The N&Ners, understanding why Ron was uncomfrotable around that
particular prop, moved on.

"This is the Vehicle room.  Scale models only, I'm afraid, the
originals are either still in circulation or damaged beyond repair."
Along the walls of the room were arrayed all manner of vehicles.
Nick's caddy, the motorcycles, even Tracy's bicycle!  On one wall, a
video monitor ran a compilation of chases, crashes, explosions, and
other vehicular mayhem from the show.  One clip conspicuously absent
was a certain plane explosion. "Actually, there is one 'vehicle'
here," Ron amended, "along that wall is the railway car set used to
film the 'Hitler' scenes from _Jane Doe_."

"This room is the Knight Art Gallery.  Detective Knight has kindly
loaned us some of his paintings for display here.  We are negotiating
for the right to sell reproductions in the Gift Shop."

The N&Ners passed rooms devoted to Nick, LaCroix, Nat, Vachon, all
three Captains, Screed, Urs, and even Divia, but were beginning to
grumble.  "All right," said Ron, "I know what you want!  The couples
wing is this way ..."

As he led the forward, Ron elaborated, "perhaps a better name for this
area would be 'twosomes'.  In addition to the romantic couples like
..."

"Nick and Nat!" yelled several impatient voices.

" ... Nick and Nat," continued Ron, unruffled, "there are also rooms
devoted to Nick and Schanke, Nick and Tracy, and other couples whose
realtionship was not of a romantic nature.  In addition, at the end of
the hall, there is a room indelicately titled the 'Neck of the Week'
exhibit noting those ...."

"Nick and Nat!  Nick and Nat!  Nick and Nat!" the crowd began to
chant.

"All right!  Here!"  Ron indicated the doorway in exasperation.  "That
concludes the tour of the Forever Knight Museum!  Thank you and come
again." Ron vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Hey!" called Tia down the hall, "No smoking in the Museum!"


in part 3:  The Nick & Nat room!


*********************************************************************


The Nick&Nat Pack's Forever Night (3/3)
by Raymond E. Heuer & the N&NPack
Sunday, August 11, 1996
(Immediately following Part 2)
The Nick&Nat Room, Forever Knight Museum

The Nick&Nat Room was arranged something like a movie theatre, with a
large-screen TV at the apex of a "V" shape showing various Nick&Nat
episodes. When the N&Ners entered, _Be My Valentine_ had just started.
The contrast of the screen had been carefully adjusted to allow full
clarity, even though the room was lit well enough to see where one was
going (barely).

The teaser ended, and the screen showed various stills of Nick and Nat
(that is, both of them in each shot) in a heart-shaped frame.  The
N&Ners took the opportunity to find seats.

"I just realized," said Idalia, "the seats are arranged in pairs!  How
romantic!"

"But not very practical when those entering aren't couples," worried
Ray.

"Oh, stop being a man and sit next to me!" she demanded.

"All right, but remember, I'm not a man."

Idalia's rejoinder was cut off by Scott calling, "look here in the
back, cases of props arranged in two horseshoe-shapes, from the door
to the back of the seating section."

"Don't you see it?" said Judith. "The entire room is one huge heart!"

A chorus of "Awwwwwww's" enveloped the room.

The "commercial" break ended, and everyone found seats to watch the
episode.  At the end of Act I, Tina and Heather noticed that along
either wall were some of the more feminine outfits that Nat had worn,
apparently to make an impression on Nick.  "I wondered why the outfits
in the Nat room were all severe and 'professional-looking'," said
Heather, "the good ones were all in here.  I wonder what the NatPack
will think of this?"

"After the way they his Nat away from us, why should we care what they
think?" said Ray, who had, for reasons of his own, abandoned his seat
near Idalia. "Hey look!"   He pointed to a beige pantsuit with a peek
(or is that peak) or creme lace at the bodice, "it's Nat's 'virgin
sacrifice' outfit from..."

"Stop!  You will not name that episode!  It does not exist!"  Ray
couldn't tell whose voice or voices this was, but he hurried back to
Idlaia's side and kept quiet.



Eventually several episodes were watched, and several displays were
examined, including a syringe with a bottle labelled "Litovuterine", a
bowl of popcorn, a blender which may or may not have contaied a
protein shake, and a bullet in an evidence bag labelled "Janette de
Brabant", as well as several wonderful photos, but if I try to
describe them all, it will be too late to post this :-(



Some N&Ners stayed in the room until the Die-Hards had to shoo them
out at sunrise, but some returned to browse the rest of the Museum's
wonders.  As the largest group of them, led by Laura headed for the
food (or is that FoD) area, they passed a large sign over the exit
reading: "FOREVER KNIGHT:  NEVER FORGET"

"Hmm," said Laura, "not as catchy as 'In Love and Faith There is
Forever'. but it'll do."


*********************************************************************


Doomed To Die
by: Abby Albrecht

Time: 8/10 at 9:47:52 pm at the N&NPackers Place

*******This was supposed to go out yesterday, but after spending half
the day moving to school (400 miles away from home) the blasted power
went out... Seven states, right? Anyway, I'm 482 messages behind. If
this screws up anything I'll jimmy with it later.**************

*Duh duh daduh, duh duh daduhhh,* the Mission Impossible (tm) theme
song kept playing over and over in Abby's head. Over, and over, and
over, and over... "Ow!" Abby hit her head against the nearest wall,
but that didn't help... It didn't feel very good either.

The Nick and Nat Packer Head Quarters wasn't what Abby expected. For
some reason she expected the walls to be papered with pictures of the
star crossed lovers. Fortunatly, they didn't seem to be that obsessed.
*The Relationshippers could learn a lot here,* she thought as she
entered the basement.

*Here 'puter 'puter 'puter... Here 'puter... Ahh, here you guys are!*
Abby hadn't been paying much attention to where she was going, so
ending up where she meant to be was a happy suprise. She had learned
from the best detective around that by dressing up as a fictional
character and acting in a way that was totally uncharacteristic fro
that person, no one would notice her. Sadly, it took all of her
concentration to pull it off, and the girdle didn't help much either.

Abby sat down at the first computer. Now it was time to put to use all
of the things her dad taught her. She slipped a disk in, loaded the
program to the hard drive, and then started the fun part. Moments
later the Forever Knight Doom game was wiped from the memory and the
new program was put in its place. Abby knew enough to rename the new
program, so the stupid, clumsy, bug ridden, BG's nondry dream, evil,
non Mac computer couldn't figure out that it wasn't the old Doom
game... (Which was actually a rip off of a pretty cool game called
Wolfenstein (tm)).

That done, Abby patted the pathetic 'puter and went on to do the same
thing to every other computer that had the FK game on it. Passwords
amused Abby to no end, so this was a fun job.

It was almost time for Abby to go. She had to try the new game once.
So, loosening her girdle and hoisting her hoop skirt, Abby booted up
the game. Moments later that sickly sweet laugh played and a purple
dinosaur came on the screen. *So far, so good,* she though. She played
a simple mathe game to try the second part of the program. It was
there. Abby had "fixed" the game. Now, whenever someone won, a video
clip of Forever Knight played. Each clip was chosen by her employers
to utterly annoy the N&Ners. This one was a slowmo of Nick and Janette
kissing.

Her job was done.


*********************************************************************


Getting Ready for the Grand Opening
 By Laura Ruggiero (Die-Hard)
When: Saturday, August 10, shortly before sunset.
Where: Die-Hard HQ

[Note: I send this out to the Die-Hard loop last night, and haven't
heard back from a single one of them, I <may> be the only Die-Hard
online today.]

The Die-Hards were still recovering from the party at the Raven last
night, but sleep was less important than getting all the last minute
details taken care of for the Grand Opening of the Forever Knight
Museum. The Die-Hards were now all dressed in their best outfits. They
left the building that contained their HQ, and headed over to the
museum. There were small tables and chairs set up outside the museum .
Several tables of incredibly good smelling food (provided by the Happy
Souvlaki Deli, with Pam Rush overseeing it all) and a full bar were
also nearby. The weather was perfect, no clouds in the sky, and the
stars beginning to come out. The high that day had been in the low
70's F (low 20's C), it was supposed to be in the 50's (teen's C)
tonight. Some people might think that it was a bit cold, but Laura
(having grown up in Minnesota) thought it felt wonderful, Southern
Illinois wouldn't be this pleasant unitl October. Laura checked in
with all the temporary and permanent staff. Everyone was in place and
looked great. The guards had orders to be unobtrusive, but to make
sure nothing walked away (The detailed descriptions of all invitees
with known lock picking and breaking and entering skills didn't hurt.)
Wait, something wasn't right about that one sign by the entrance to
the Museum. It was supposed to simply read: "No Eating, No Drinking,
and No Smoking in the Museum." But someone had attached an addendum to
the sign which read: "However, Drooling over, Lusting about, and
Coveting objects contained herein is o-kay." Laura laughed, *Well I
just that's correct, it might as well remain there.* *Yes, everything
was ready,* Laura thought, *now we just have to wait for the others to
arrive. I hope they do come, I wouldn't want the Grand Opening to be a
flop.*


*********************************************************************


Late Nights and Daily Rushes
by Diane Echelbarger, unaffiliated
Laura Ruggiero, DieHard,
and Carla Pickering, Vaquera

Saturday, 8/10, 11:30pm

Diane fought back another yawn and slid open the next drawer in the
video storage room.  She was a morning person, and even with an early-
evening nap under her belt, the late hour was beginning to catch up to
her.  Usually, she'd just have downed a double espresso and kept
going, but caffeine was on Dr. Wetmore's list of forbidden substances.

"Hey," she cried, brightening a bit, "These are dailies!  First season
dailies!"  Eagerly, she sorted through them and pulled one out. "Cool!
_I Will Repay_, Raven-back-room-scene *dailies*!"  She turned to
Carla, who was still acting as chair-pusher.  "Let's watch 'em!  I
always wondered how many takes it took to get that scene between
Schanke and Alma right."

Carla agreed, and they were fortunate enough to find a viewing room
free fairly quickly.  Diane's wheelchair was rolled to the back of the
small theatre-style room, and the Vaquera handed the tape to Donna
Burns, the DieHard projectionist on duty.

Soon, Diane, Carla, and various other people who had wandered in were
laughing uproariously at take after take of the "dancing doctor"
scene.

When the tape ended, two hours later, Carla rose from her comfortable
auditorium-style seat and prepared to continue pusher-duty.

Before she could call the unaffiliate's name, the lights went up, and
Carla smiled.

Diane was slumped in the wheelchair, fast asleep.

Gently, so as not to wake her, Carla pushed her into a quiet corner,
borrowed one of the Vaqueros' vans, drove to Spifff's apartment, and
tucked Diane into bed.


*********************************************************************


Gifts From The Heart
by Laura MacMillan and the N&NPack
Saturday August 10              11:30pm
The Museum

Laura wondered around the musuem looking to see if Nick and Natalie
had arrived yet. As she walked past a hallway she was too busy trying
to see down the length of it to pay attention to where she was
walking. She walked right into Denise, her Cousin friend, "Hey, watch
it! ...Oh, Laura. Hi." Laura looked at Denise and grinned, "Hi. Sorry
about that." Denise smiled, "Don't worry about it. Are you looking for
someone?" Laura's smile faded, "Yes. I'm looking for Nick and Natalie.
You haven't seen either of them have you?".  Denise's smile widened,
"Actually I have." Denise told Laura exactly where she had seen both
Nick and Natalie. Just as she was finishing up Mel appeared by her
side. Before Laura could respond Mel did, "Okay Laura, you go get Nick
and I'll get Nat. We'll meet back where the food is setup in ten
minutes. Denise could you do us a favour and let Chana or Idalia know
where to meet us?" Denise nodded and headed in the direction Mel
indictated.

Within minutes Laura spotted Nick and managed to talk the group of
Knighties with him to let him accompany her for a few minutes. Within
five minutes Nick and Laura were sitting at a table waiting for Mel,
Natalie and the rest of the N&NPack. Laura could see how nervous Nick
had become when she told him Nat would be joining them shortly.

The N&NPack suurounded Nick and Laura, eagerly awaiting Natalie's
arrival. They had spent the whole war waiting for this moment. As Mel
approached with Natalie, Nick visabely tensed up. Laura reached over,
squeezed his hand and said, "Relax. This is a good thing. Nick, please
don't led anything we say get to you.
We just need to know where we stand" Nick looked at her and smiled,"I
won't. Thanks."
Natalie had no choice but to sit beside Nick as Mel sat on her other
side forcing her closer to Nick in the circular booth. Mel and Laura
smiled at each other knowing that they had effectively locked Nick and
Nat in place.

Laura started, "We are so glad that both of you are alive and well."

"You had us really worried," Chana quickly added.

Nick started to stammer an apology, but was cut off by Mel, "We aren't
here to talk about that, we have more important things on our minds."
She looked at Lisa who handed them each a N&NPack t-shirt. Before they
could respond Idalia handed them each a N&NPack leather jacket
complete with their names embroidered on the left arm. As they stared
at the generous gifts Carrie took that moment to remind them, "In Love
and Faith There is *Forever*".

Susan handed them each, a leather bound book filled with the best Nick
and Nat fiction. Jenn and Pat presented them a tape a of all Nick and
Nat scenes. Tia handed them a 8x10 photo of them kissing. Mel turned a
bright red as she handed them a collection of N&N SWSes, CSSes and
JADFE stories, one of which she was guilty of writing. As Nat and Nick
both took a moment to look over the pages, they became visably
embarassed. Kevin leaned over and  whispered to Nick, "It will help
you out with your foreplay."

Before Nick could express his objections Laura spoke up, "All of us
here know you love each other and that you belong together."

"Everyone relationship goes through a hard time, but you must not give
up," added Chana.

"Together you can get through anything," chimed in Heather.

"Plus Nat, if Nick doesn't behave there is always Vachon," said Mel.

"Hey!" objected Nick.

"Actually Vachon is rather sexy. The truth thing really adds to his
appeal," replied Tina.

"Hmm....Vachon," replied Natalie thoughtfully.

"Nat!" exclaimed Nick.

"You know Nat there is a faction called the Lonely Hearts that thinks
you and Vachon would be good together," added Scott.

"You guys are supposed to be N&NPackers!" responded an irritated Nick.

"I'm sorry, I can't think of being with any one at this time," said
Natalie.

"Then there's still hope for the two of you, that's all we can ask
for, " replied Laura happily.

With that, the N&NPack said their goodbyes to Nick and Nat and left
them alone at the booth.


*********************************************************************


Key? What key?
Time:   Sat. August 10, 11:40
Place:  The Die-Hard Museum
Author: Dawn Steele

Dawn Steele wandered aimlessly throughout the museum. //Great idea!//
She squinted her eyes to examine the portait of Janette supposedly
painted by de Vinci.

//Nope! No way.//

The Mercenary was free and clear. The War was pretty much over, and
she hadn't had an (official) job since about mid-week. She'd kept
herself busy, but it wasn't the same thing.

//I'm <definitely> going to get more people to hire me next time.//

She spotted a plaque on the wall. It was the "Partners of the Month"
plaque with Schanke's name mis-spelled.

Dawn took a brief detour to the reception area and had another glass
of wine while she was there. (Hey Laura! Nice vintage!), Then she
continued wandering. She loved museums -- one could see and meet the
most interesting people there.

She found Lynn Stapleton arguing heatedly with a security guard.
Something about a missing dagger, and Lynn tripping the thief before
he could get there.

"Look," she argued. "I stopped that damn punk before he could leave
with a priceless dagger, and you're giving me nothing but grief."

"How do I know you weren't in on the theft?" The guard was also
standing his ground.

Lynn laughed in his face. "Oh, puleeze. Do you really think I'd be
standing here trying to turn the SOB in, if I was in on it." She gave
him an incredulous look. He couldn't possibly be this dense.

It sounded a bit irrational to Dawn. Why wouldn't the guard just thank
her. He must have been looking forward to trouble and was ticked off
that Lynn had found it first.

"Lynn!" The NatPacker turned towards Dawn.

"Dawn." She sighed heavily. *Damned guard* She smiled as she got
closer to her friend. "How's it going?"

"I'm glad I caught up with you -- I was going to try and track you
down tomorrow, but this is better. Do you need a ride home to New
Brunswick? I'll be leaving about noon."

"Sure."

They left the irrational guard behind, and started towards the video
room. After a hilarious couple of hours watching clips, they decided
to look over the rest of the exhibit -- although both were a bit punch
drunk due to being up in the middle of the night.

'And various things have/had/happened - ' was the title on a mystery
display that neither of them could figure out. There seemed to be a
display of all the identification used on the show mixed up with a few
pieces of lingeree from various shows.

Dawn tried viewing the display from different head positions, but it
still didn't make any sense. She was thoughtfully tapping on the clear
glass display case when the new leaders of the Die-Hards arrived.

"Dawn -- it's nice to see you again."

The Merc startled guiltily. After being the leader of the Die-Hards in
Wars 2, 3, 4 and then co-leader in number 5 she had thought there was
enough active writers to keep them afloat in the War.

"Laura... Hi! Nice museum."

Laura buffed her nails and smiled. "It was hard to finish it up and do
my thesis at the same time, but I managed."

Introductions were made, and Dawn gave Laura the key card to the Die
Hard safe house that the Nick&NatPackers had snatched and she had
retrieved.

"Hey!" Laura exclaimed. "I didn't know it was even missing!"

"I was scouting out the N&NPackers place for future reference, and
noticed it less lying on a side table -- very careless." Dawn replied.

A heated discussion about different security systems to be used in the
next war proceeded. Everyone agreed that it was no fun if <anyone>
could get in (Like in Nick's loft), but having an impenerable fortress
wasn't much fun either.

Like most things in life, the discussion ended and they parted ways
until the next war.

Dawn and Lynn started towards the entrance.

"Need a lift to the NatPacker's place?"
"Yeah. I've got to pick up my luggage. And _try_ to get the Hostel
back into some semblance of normalacy." She smiled. The Hostel after
the NatPack was never going to be the same again.

"Need a lift back to New Brunswick?"
"Sure."

"Got any more of those chocolates you paid me for the trip up?"
Lynn just looked resignedly at Dawn. "How about I just pay for the
gas?"

---------------------
My last post. A couple more are awaiting approval but they're already
written. <G>


*********************************************************************


Au Revoir, Kemosabe
By:  Apache
Place:  the Raven
Time: late Saturday, August 10



Apache sat in a corner, nursing an Irish whiskey... 'wasn't I in this
exact same sot, er, spot, a week ago?' she wondered.  But the Raven
had been quiet then, and it was one jumpin' joint right now.

So much happens in two weeks, especially if you're used to hiding out
on 67 extremely quiet acres where the advent of two migrating Canada
geese is a major event.  Weird to dance and bump into people you
hadn't known at all fourteen days ago.  And then there were the ones
she *had* known... it was good to see Diane E. out and about.  Apache
fingered the bottle of nail polish, exactly the shade of NATPE bag
red, that she'd meant to polish Diane's toes with.  'Kinda hard with a
hyperbaric chamber in the way, though.  Well, I can give her the
bottle to take home, anyhow.'

And then, of course, there were the ones you only *thought* you'd
known.

'Bonnie, it was Bonnie all along?' Apache's brain was still reeling
from the revelation, not to mention from the Fiorinal and Cafergot
she'd been taking to keep her migraine down to a dull roar -- and the
Jameson's she was now pouring on top of that.  'I mean, *Bonnie*?' Of
all the Vaqueras, Bonnie had been the one she thought she knew best
coming in.

'Jeez, that nice woman?  The one who kept her gaze glued on Vachon
every available second and thought he had eyes like a German
Shepherd?' Apache herself was a relic of the Sixties, in which every
hair, whether its ends were split or not, was sacred, not to mention
heir to a culture where three-foot-braids like the ones she'd had in
those days were common.  To her, even the concept of 'just a trim' was
heretical enough. And of course, what had actually happened....

'Et tu, Bonnie?' Apache thought.  'Talk about your 'most unkindest cut
of all"'...  Jeez.' Apache closed her eyes over the memory of those
fragrant, bouncy curls.  'Ugh.' Uh, so to speak.

And now Bonnie was dancing with... yes, the Phantom.  'Mr. Silly
String himself, though he may not know we know,' Apache pondered.
Unmasked, but still, there she was with her head on his shoulder.

Apache took another slug of her whiskey.  'Original Gangsta, or
Ovulating Gnu, or Obstreporous Geek, or whatever he wants to call
himself, he obviously doesn't know how long the statute of limitations
is on hate crimes up here,' she mulled.  'Between the film Charlyne
pulled from the surveillance cams, and the fingerprints on the sewer
grating and the undestroyed timers we bagged and stored, this drawling
ectoplasm-wannabe is toast and doesn't even know it.  And it was the
Spanish, after all, who coined the phrase "Revenge is a dish best
eaten cold."'

Sherri walked up and poked her.  "Hey, it's a party.  Lighten up," she
ordered.

"I don't do light," Apache sighed.  "At least, not very well."

"Get up and dance, deadbeat," said Sherri.  "'S an order.  You can be
depressed later, like when the Gold Card bill comes."  She grinned.

"Oh my Gawd," moaned Apache.  But then she laughed.  "Okay, I hear and
obey.  As long as it's not the Maca-whatsit...."

A cool hand touched her.  "You'd prefer maybe a rain dance?" came a
teasing voice.


*********************************************************************


Frustrations and Delivery Boys
by TJ Goldstein (Unaffiliated) and Sorcha O'Faolin (N&NPack)
Time:  During the Museum Opening
Place:  The FK Museum

TJ was tired as he showed the guard his invitation to the museum
opening and admitted to himself that he was glad to be here.  Why
shouldn't he be tired?  It wasn't like he'd gotten more than a couple
of hours sleep in the past few days.

Not that that had prevented him from being volunteered for this. "Come
on, TJ," Sorcha had said, "the Merc cancelled.  Can't you do it?
You're always talking about staying unaffiliated.  You don't get much
more unaffiliated than this."

So here he was, late for the opening, with a huge sack full of cargo
to be delivered.

The moment he entered the first room, his reluctance melted away.  It
appeared to be dedicated to Nick, with all sorts of props scattered
around.  He looked around and saw the Bible with Nick's handprint
scorched into it, several jackets with bullet holes in them, swords
hanging on the wall, Erica's doll, a 1964 drivers license.  Finally he
found what he was looking for, realizing that it was right in front of
him all the time.

The loft.  Well, the set anyway.  He approached the refrigerator, and
spun around and did something he'd longed to do for a very long time. 
He sat at the piano.

And wished he hadn't said no when his mother'd tried to get him to
take lessons.

Ah well.  Work to do, he reminded himself.

He checked his notes and found the woman who fit the description.
"Cath Boone?"

She turned to him.  "Yes?"

He pulled the bundle out of his sack and handed it to her.  "From the
Nick and Natpackers."

She looked at him, then the package, as though trying to figure out if
it might detonate when she opened it.

"It's t-shirts," he said, finally realizing her probable suspicions.

She opened it carefully nonetheless, and finally 50 burgundy t-shirts
with the N&Ner symbol -- a cadecus and sword -- emblazoned on the
chest appeared.  "Thank you," she said quietly, and he got the feeling
there were more than just words in that statement.

As he left the room he caught sight of the sun painting that had
seemed to him to be perpetually unfinished, right up until Nick had
collapsed onto it after Divia's attack.  Underneath there was a small
notation:  "Study in Frustration (Nick)".

He entered the Natalie room and found the morgue set, complete with
white lab coat.  Sure enough, that damn organ scale was still broken.
There were plenty of other props around, such as a large number of
flowers and the card from MBiaV.  He wondered how close the Lurkers
had been to the truth in what it said and resigned himself to never
finding out.  Then there was the silver pillbox she had given to Nick.
Underneath was an almost identical caption:  "Study in Frustration
(Natalie)".  He found Jennie and handed her her package.  "From the
Nick and Natpack."

She opened the package and smiled, surprised.  "Thanks," she said,
clearly wondering who the heck this guy was.

Feeling uncomfortable he made his way quickly to the next room, and
immediately stepped over to the CERK set, wondering what would happen
if he just moved a slider or two.  (Then he remembered what happened
when he pushed those buttons on the replica TARDIS in that exhibit he
was working and decided against it.)  The LaCroix room.  In the
background he could hear Nightcrawler routines running, and he stopped
for a moment to listen before finding Cousin Tok.  "This is for you."

Tok opened it and thanked him.  "You're a Nick and Natpacker?  I don't
think I've seen you before."

"Me?  No, I just got pressed into service," he said, catching
LaCroix's "Study in Frustration" -- the pocketwatch he had given Nick,
the replica of the bust, and Divia's brooch -- as he moved on past a
single dried rose to Schanke's room.

He missed Schanke.  He missed the humor.  He almost wished he would
run into Schanke's ghost, even though he hated that kind of thing.
But he didn't, so he delivered the shirts for the FoD's and moved on
after spotting the moose pajamas and the Partner of the Month plaque
next to the "Study in Frustration" -- a non-winning lottery ticket.

The centerpiece of the Janette room was, of course, the replica of the
Raven, as it appeared before LaCroix's redecorations.  There were also
a couple of coffins from the basement, and an impressive collection of
gloves, the most striking of which were a pair of blood red velvet
opera gloves and a pair of black lace with open fingers.  Her "Study
in Frustration" was the pair of jeans and sweater she would probably
swear she had never worn.  He found Felicia and gave her her package
for the Immortal Beloveds and the Ravenettes.  She thanked him and he
moved on to Tracy's room.

He felt a little sorry for Tracy.  She'd been wasted, in his opinion,
but she didn't deserve what happened to her.  Looking around for
Partly K he saw her "Study in Frustration" -- Vachon's guitar -- and
her desk, adorned with an extra large cup of coffee.  He found Partly
and gave her the gift.  In grand Perkulator style she smiled in
surprise and thanked him, and he moved on.

Next was Vachon's room and the Church set.  He dropped off the shirts
for the Vaqueros and smiled as he saw Vachon's frustration:  A plane
ticket made out to J.D. Valdez.  He also caught sight of a group of
the Woofpack and checking his notes, he saw that they were indeed
Tigon, Becky, and Steve.  He gave them their shirts and they thanked
him.

Christina and Dianne of the Mercs were in the Captains' room, laughing
at Reese's frustration.  They thanked him for the shirts and almost
immediately he found Laura.  She seemed to be the most pleased with
the gift, smiling and telling him, "Thanks!  I do like the idea of
Nick and Nat -- 'course I also like the idea of Nick and Janette.
What can I say, I'm a Die Hard!"

He laughed.  "Well, I've got to say that you guys have done a terrific
job of putting this thing together."

"Thank you.  I'm glad that so far it's working out."

He looked around for the other "frustration" pieces before he left the
room, finally finding them.  Cohen's was an unfinished report from
Schanke, Stonetree's a pair of woefully stretched suspenders.
Finally, as he closed the sack and stuffed it into his backpack, he
chuckled at "Study in Frustration (Reese)".

The water cooler.


*********************************************************************


Morning People
By Diane Echelbarger, unaffiliated and
Valerie Meachum, NatPack

Sunday, 8/11, 7:23am

The CN Tower's Top Of The World restaurant
(No, I don't think they really serve Sunday brunch.)

Diane sipped from her cup of decaf, took a bite of warm, fresh-baked
croissant, and smiled.  "Isn't Toronto gorgeous early in the morning?"
she asked her brunch companion, waving her free hand at the
spectacular view.  "I've never understood why anyone would want to
sleep 'til noon.  They miss the best part of the day!"

Valerie took a bite of her portobella mushroom and swiss cheese
omelette.  "I can think of a few reasons, but I never manage it," she
replied.

They continue to eat and chat, making occasional sojourns to the 43-
item buffet to refill their plates.

After the third such trip-- Valerie leaned on Diane's shoulder, so she
wouldn't have to use her crutches-- the unaffiliated listmember asked
her friend, "So-- I hear Nick and Nat met at The Raven Friday night.
How'd it go?"

"Better than I expected," Valerie answered, as she spooned up some
fresh raspberries.  "I'm not sure where they're going from here, but
at least they're talking to each other.  And the 'Pack and the
Knighties have pretty much made up, too."

"That's good."  Diane cut a bite of sugar-cured ham.  "I'm glad Nat's
okay, too.  I was kinda worried, when Jennie and Karen both
transferred to Toronto right after--"  She trailed off, and Valerie
nodded.

"We were worried about her safety," the NatPacker explained.  "But
all's well that ends well, and all that."  She brightened.  "Speaking
of theatre..."  Valerie picked up her (Bag? backpack?) and pulled a
video tape out.  "I thought you'd like a copy of this."

Diane took the unlabeled tape and turned it over in her hands. "What
is it?"

"A copy of the karaoke session at The Raven Friday.  It's got me
singing "Think of Me" on it.  I know you like _Phantom_."

"Thanks!"  Diane tucked the tape into her bag, then glanced at her
watch.  "You're flying out today?"

Valerie nodded.  "My flight leaves Toronto International at 3pm. How
are you getting home?"

"I have to drive back, but since I've got massive sick leave coming--
one advantage of working for the state-- I'm going to take an extra
day to rest up, then drive home in easy stages.  Ann Arbor Tuesday,
then home Wednesday."   Diane finished the last bite off her plate.
"Shall we 'frappe la rue', as Spifff would say?"

"Let's."  Valerie rose to her feet, and her friend helped her hobble
to the elevator (they had payed when they arrived).

They parted at the curb, each taking a cab to their separate
destinations and shouting good-byes out the windows.

"Bye!"

"Take care!"


*********************************************************************


Contemplations of the Next WAR
Author: Cherri L. Munoz  aka  Cousin Cherri <cdmunoz@earthlink.net>
Date:   Sunday, August 11
Time:   Late Morning
Place:  CERK HQ
---------------
Cousin Cherri packed her belongings into several suitcases. It was
incredible how many things that a person could accumulate in 9 months.
Suddenly she stopped and looked around. This had been her home. It was
a little sad. So many things had happened to her in the last two weeks
but best of all was when LaCroix had removed the cow suit and later
when he had come to her rescue at Vachon's church.

"Cousin Cherri," she spoke aloud to hear the wonderful ring it had to
it. She smiled then frowned as she remembered all the unfinished
business she was leaving behind. She would have to deal with Vachon in
the next war for whamming her into thinking that she was a Vaquera.
"I'm a Cousin," she told the empty room.

Another major problem she was going to have to deal with in the next
war was Tigon. <sigh> //So what. I stole Tigon's sock ammo at my Last
Knight party. It was the Cousinly thing to do. <VEG>// However, to
hire a merc...Merc Kira to be exact...another person to deal with...
to steal the socks from all the factions was something to be avenged.
She had heard that Tigon and one of her minions, Steve, had given
VampFleas to a few of the factions when they returned the socks. She
was sure that she'd have lots of cooperation especially from the
afflicted factions. And of course, I will never forget Tigon's
accomplice...Merc Lizbet and all her personas...

Oh yes... the next war was going to be very good.

Cousin Cherri stuffed one last thing into her bag, closed it then
paused for a moment to contemplate the war as it played this time
round.  Putting Vachon in the cow costume had been very good...very
good indeed but for him to whammy her into becoming a Vaquera so that
she went around saying, "I love you, Vachon." she would have to think
of something very Cousinly to do to his faction during the next war.

"Oh, well." She stretched. "I have plenty of time to decide."

She smiled. It felt wonderful to no longer be wearing the cow costume
and it was absolutely fabulous that she no longer had to be the "Spot
the Cow" Mascot for CERK. Time for the Cousin meeting then she would
get to go home to her family.


*********************************************************************


Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again
by Cousin Erik LeBeau
Time:  Comfortably after Lisa McD's closing post
Place:  In transit from Toronto to Birmingham

He stared out the window at the sunlight over the clouds.  Cousin
Roger -- Erik having been put away with the mask and makeup until next
war --fought back a mist in his eyes as his thoughts ran over the
events of the war.

It was really fun, although he never seemed to have gotten around to
all the things he had planned.  'That's what War 8 is for,' he thought
to himself with a wicked grin.

He thought briefly of his ill-fated infatuation with Bonnie, the
former Vaquera.  Roger sang a line from _Tommy_ to himself, slightly
amending the lyrics.  "He knew from the start / deep down in his heart
/ that he and Bonnie were worlds apart."  Considering all that
happened to her in the course of the war, he hoped that she would
think fondly of him, and perhaps they would meet again.  'We may even
wind up on the same side next time,' he thought to himself.

He knew that the Vaqueras would be itching to get him back for the
silly string as soon as they met again... and he was already thinking
of preemptive strikes.  The best defense and all that.  He smiled to
himself.

Contrary to Mr. Franklin, while there may be no such thing as a bad
peace, there was most certainly a good war... and Cousin Roger had
just been a part of one of the best.

***end***

Thanks everyone!!! I had loads of fun.  See y'all (yes, I'm from
Alabama) next war!


*********************************************************************


Booking Procedures and Loft-y Ideals
by Perri Smith and Catherine Boone

Aug 11, 12 p.m.
Nick's Loft

They'd finally woken from their late night at the museum opening,
finally gotten clothing, sleeping bags, stuffed animals and all
bathroom items shoved and mauled into the suitcases they came from.
They were smiling for the most part, satisfied that all suitable
revenge had been taken on all suitable parties, and that all was more
or less right with the world.

Except for one thing. They *still* hadn't found the damn book.

Nick sat at the kitchen table, sorting through piles of brown leather
books. They'd accumulated them all over the place, from the one from
Jessica had given them to the Sanskrit one from Partly. Nick was
paging through them with various sounds of disgust or pleasure, as
those Knighties not frantically packing looked on with awe.

"Nick, what *are* all of those?" Dotti finally asked.

"These," Nick gestured to a small pile, "I have no idea. These," to a
slightly larger pile, "are just plain old address books. Two of them
are mine, from the station and one that I lost right after I left
Toronto. Janette had it?" he asked Perri.

She nodded. "Snitched it from her office before we left the Raven
yesterday morning. And that stack?" she gestured to the last one.

Nick looked embarrassed. "Those are, ah, the bank books I lost
before."

Cath leaned forward, one eyebrow going up. "Before?"

"Ah, yes." Perri was also leaning forward now; both of them were
starting to look violent. "See," he said hastily, "I never can keep
track of small things like this. So, every few months, I usually
manage to lose one of my account books."

"Every few months?" Allie was starting to catch on.

"Yeah. I can usually reconstruct them from my records, although I
usually do miss one or two accounts."

Cath leaned back against the table, from where she was sitting at
Perri's feet on the floor. "So, all this time, we've been racing
around Toronto trying to find the one and only book, thinking it was a
complete emergency, whan you make a *habit* of losing these things?"

"But this time, I didn't have any of my records," Nick defended
himself. "So I had to just use the accounts I remembered, which
weren't very many. So, I really did need it back. Really."

Perri had started snickering by this point, too tired to be pissed
off. "Well, at least you had enough to bring us to Toronto. Instead of
coming yourself. But if you'd told us, we wouldn't have hauled
everyone up here."

"Yes, well, that's the funny part." He had the grace to look ashamed,
but tried to laugh. "I, ah, figured everyone would show up. I needed
to find Natalie and I couldn't think of any other way to get her out
in the open than starting a war. And it worked."

They gaped. "You started a war on purpose?" Dottie finally managed to
stutter out.

Nick looked away. "Yes."

Cath groaned and fell on the floor, stretched out flat, her eyes
closed. "Now, I really *have* seen everything." Her eyes popped back
open after just a second, registering what they'd just seen. "Oh,
dude!"

Katrinka looked down at her from the kitchen counter. "What is it?"

Catherine just blinked. "There's something under the refrigerator."

For a moment, everyone froze. Then, there was a mass rush to the
fridge. They jostled for position, and finally managed to pull it out
from the wall, after discovering that no one had small enough hands to
reach under. Allie won the final pounce.

"One brown book, initials NK!" she yelled. "Dumpster duty, my foot! I
told you to look there!"

"Mea culpa," Perri complained. "Is that it?"

Nick took it from Allie, paging through it. "Yes, this is it!"

Their shout of triumph rattled the skylight.

A few minutes later, as the rounds of congratulations and Nick's hugs
of gratitude ended, he shouted them all to silence again. "Thanks, all
of you, for everything," he started. "I can't tell you how much all of
you have meant to me all of these years."

"Uh-oh, farewell speech," someone muttered.

"I hope not," Nick said seriously. "Although I would like, just once,
to see all of you when no one is breaking into the loft every other
hour." They laughed appreciatively, a few jibes aimed Kathy's way. She
blushed, but returned them in kind, secure in Nick's forgiveness.

"But, I do want to pay all of you back, the best I can," Nick
continued.

"You don't need to do anything for us," Sandra protested. "We've been
sponging off you enough already."

"Yes, I do," Nick answered firmly. "I don't know where I'm going after
all of you leave this time, but I do know I can't stay here in the
loft. There's... too many memories."

They murmured in sympathy, looking over to The Spot on the floor -- no
one had slept there the entire time they'd been in the loft. "So,"
Nick continued, "I've decided to give the loft to someone I'm sure
will get a lot of use out of it. The lease had been tranferred to...
The Knightie Foundation, to be administered by the Knightie leaders."
He grinned as it started to sink in. "There's also enough capital in
there so none of you will need to use my credit card to get here
anymore, should another of these situations arise. Felix Twist will
run the financial side, all any of you need to do is use it."

They gaped again.

"Du-ude," Perri and Cath finally said in unison, managing to close
their mouths. "Too cool!"

Nick braced himself, and managed not to fall out of his chair when the
crusade of grateful, squealing Knighties decended on him.


*********************************************************************


Rage!  Rage!  Against the dying of the War!
by Raymond E. Heuer (Nat Vamp Camp)
Monday, August 12, 1996, noonish
Toronto Airport


Having helped tote luggage, Ray had one last bag to carry - his own!

"C'mon, Ray," said Susan, "I know you only played pack-mule so you
could hug each of us goodbye as we left.  Now it's my turn."

"I thought it would be just a couple of weeks with friends, and then
back home to my wife and son.  I didn't think it would be this hard to
leave."

"You just didn't realize how real a virtual family can be.  Now off
with you, before you miss your plane."

"You don't suppose ..."

"Go!  Before I tell your wife about you and Idalia!"

"But ... but ... but ..."

"Go on, go!"


So long, Toronto - So long N&N Pack.  I'll be back for War Viii!


*********************************************************************


Bye, all!
Sunday August 10, 1996
Tina Cooling (Bast)
N&NPackers

Tina tossed the last of her clothing into her backpack, and hunted
down her cat.

"Well, Bogart," she said, picking him up.  "I'll bet Susan will be
glad to get her house back to normal."  With that, she went outside,
where the Nick&NatPackers were busily engaged in hugging each other
goobye.  Tina joined in the hugpile after putting Bogart and her bag
and suitcase into Jinx.

"I'll miss you guys!" she exclaimed.  She had already called up the
NatPack and told her friends there goodbye.  "I'm going to be thinking
about this when I'm in school dozing through boring classes on
research methods, and wishing I were back in Toronto!"

"You'll show up for the next war?" asked Mel.

"Heck, yeah!" exclaimed Tina.  "I wouldn't miss it for *anything*!"
With that, she gave Mel a big hug, got one in return, and joined in
the hugging before getting in her car.  As she drove off, Tina thought
of all the fun she'd had in the war, and all the smelly liquids she'd
been doused in, and began planning for the next war.

"Now I have something to do during my boring classes!" she exclaimed.

**fin**

It's been a blast, all!  I can't wait until War VIII!!!

*hugs to all*


*********************************************************************


Farewell My Friends
by Laura MacMillan and the N&NPack
Sunday,10/96            1:00pm
N&NPack Headquarters

Laura, Mel, Chana and Susan watched as the N&NPackers finished putting
all their luggage and pets into the vans and cars. Everyone seemed to
be relieved yet sad that they were leaving Toronto. The war had been
long and trying at times, but they had survived rather well. They knew
each other as well as thirty two people crowded into a house for two
weeks can. They had gone through many trial and tribulations and many
first times together. Laura giggled as she thought of them trying to
tell their loved ones about their time in Toronto. How do you explain
to someone that you bought out six stores when you *had* to bath in
tomato juice, because of the cotton candy and the Screed smell the you
managed to get covered in. How would four of them explain their new
hair colors, thanks to the Ravenettes and IB attack. Nobody accept
maybe the Toronto police who had several strange reports would believe
what had occurred in Toronto.

Soon everything was loaded and it was time to say good bye. There were
tears, laughter and lots of hugs as the N&NPack said their goodbyes.
Mel and Chana both knew they should be heading home, but Laura had
talked them into staying with her for a few more days. She and Susan
had promised to show them everything Torono and the surrounding area
had. They planned a trip to Niagra Falls and the a few days at the
Toronto Exhibition.

As they stood and watched their friends drive away a profound sadness
washed over them. It would take awhile to get used to not having them
around. Once the vans were out of site, they slowly headed back into
the silent house. Within minutes they had each found a comfortable
place to sleep and were fast asleep shortly afterwards, dreaming of
Nick and Nat in the Knight.


*********************************************************************


Vaquero Summer Fun - Finis 1/2
Location: Toronto and points West
Time: August 11th, late afternoon
by Sherri L. Campbell

The Vaqueros were packing their belongings rapidly. The church was
gradually emptying of signs of their stay. The computers and security
had been crated, and a delivery truck was due to pick them up in the
next hour.  The geese had been transferred to a wild-life sanctuary
for rehabilitation to the wild, and Apache was due for a large tax
deduction on her next tax return. The fencing had been returned in
such good shape that the company was rebating part of the cost.

Items that had been purchased were being packed and stored in the
church, on the off chance that they would be needed for the next war.

Vachon stood surveying the chaos. As he saw box after box being taken
to back rooms and the basement for storage, he snagged a passing
Vaquera who squeaked in surprise. "Now, now, cara... you are Terry,
correct?" At her mute nod, he smiled and continued. "Now, Terry? *Why*
are you all putting those boxes in the basement?"

Terry looked at Vachon in bewilderment. "Well, Vachon... We may have
to come back! This is in preparation for the *next* war."

Vachon staggered back, and sat on a nearby pew. "Next War?" He barely
whispered the awful words. "*Next* War??" He groaned, and buried his
face in his hands. "What next??"

Torrey trotted past on an errand, and patted Vachon on his shoulder.
"It's all right, Vachon. It won't happen for a while.... You'll be
fully recuperated by then." With a bright smile, she moved off. The
faint moan of protest was ignored.
                    * * * *

Apache stood surveying the empty church. "I think that's it, Torrey.
As far as I can tell, everything is picked up, packed or returned."
Turning to the assembled Vaqueros, she smiled quietly. "Well, shall we
go home?"

There was a ground swell of mumbled denial.  Lori stepped forward,
and, firmly looking the assembly in the eye, started to speak. "I, for
one, had a great time up here. Even though I stayed in the background,
and didn't appear much, I enjoyed myself. I *don't* want this to end
yet. Isn't there something we can do?"

Crystal and Cindy started to speak at the same time, with Jay
overriding them. "Yes, there's got to be something we can do! Torrey,
you're our leader... *think* of something!"

Torrey, looking up at the adamant Vachon look-alike, stammered
quietly. "Uh-huh... just what...???" McKenna tugged on her sleeve, and
whispered quietly.  Torrey looked up smiling. "So, do you guys agree
to whatever I come up with?"

The assembled Vaqueros shuffled their feet, and looked at each other.
Gay stepped foward and boldly stated "Yes. Anything."  Everyone else
nodded in agreement.

"Okay... here is what we are going to do....


*********************************************************************


Well, It's Time to Go
by Perri Smith and Catherine Boone

Aug 11, 6:00 p.m.
The Knighties' Loft

"So, where *are* you going to go?" Perri asked.

She and Cath were sprawled over Nick's bed -- he was leaving the satin
sheets after a pointed hint from a few departing Knighties -- watching
him pack the last of his clothes. Perri lusted quietly after a few of
the full-sleeved, lace-up shirts, but managed to keep it inaudible.

"You know, I don't really know," Nick answered, shoving more shirts
into his suitcase. Then he stopped, pulled one out, and tossed it at
Perri. She caught it, grinning hugely. "I haven't had time to think
about it much. I guess I could go almost anywhere."

"Except Chicago," Cath pointed out. "You keep getting into trouble in
Chicago."

"Hey!" Perri objected. "Come to Chicago. When I move there, I can stay
with you."

Nick laughed. "I don't think I'll be leaving Toronto for now. I worked
hard enough to come back!" He shook his head slightly, chuckling.
"Where are you two off to?"

"Back to California." Perri rolled over onto her back, hugging the
shirt. "My ticket home to Texas is in a few days - may as well be
there to use it. Besides, I still have vacation days left."

"And you, Catherine?"

"School," she said, making a face. "After I kick Perri out." That got
her hit with a pillow. She dodged and retaliated.

"Hey!" Nick interrupted before a full-fledged pillow fight could break
out. The girls exchanged looks, then laughed a pillow directly at him.
Even vampiric speed couldn't save him.

He sighed heavily, dropped his pile of clothes, picked up the pillow -
- and retaliated in kind. Squeals filled the loft.

******

After the feathers (literally) settled, the women helped Nick load the
caddie with his baggage, then turned out the lights in the loft. No
one would turn the electricity off this time -- the refrigerator was
fully stocked with food, in case of wandering Knighties needing a
crash pad, and there was even a small supply of blood in the mini-bar
fridge.

Nick slammed the trunk of the Caddie and turned to the two Knighties.
"Guess this is it."

"For now, anyway," Perri grinned. "You'll be around, and so will we."

"You sure you don't need a ride to the airport?"

"Positive," Cath answered patiently. "We're going to stop and get ice
cream, then head for the airport. We'll be fine."

"Well, then..." His voice trailed off, and he held out his arms. They
took the invitation with enthusiasm, not pulling away until after a
long, tearful moment. "Take care, you two."

"We will," Perri answered, scrubbing her cheeks and smiling. "You do
the same. No close encounters with stakes..."

"No necking sessions..."

"No psychotic half-sisters showing up in town..."

"All right!" he laughed, holding up his hands. "I get the picture. I
promise to behave myself."

"Good," Cath said with satisfaction. "And Nick, no matter what
happens...." She couldn't finish past the lump in her throat.

Perri half-smiled in sympathy, and finished Cath's sentance, like
always. "No matter what happens, remember we love you, Nick Knight.
And always will, forever."

He was a little confused, but touched by their sincerity. "Same goes
for you two. If you need me, I'm here. Forever."

"Cool." They hugged him one last time, he kissed each of them, then
they headed for the cab that had magically appeared at just the right
time. As it pulled away, they leaned out the windows to wave at him,
not pulling their heads in until they were out of sight.


*********************************************************************


Aftermath
by Spifff (unaffiliated)
Place: Spifff's apartment
Time: Sunday August 11 evening, 9pm

Most of her houseguests had departed during the afternoon in a flurry
of hugs and tearful goodbyes. Spifff surveyed the debris left
scattered around her apartment. Comet cat was busy pushing a bottle
top around in the corner beside Diane's bag. There seemed to be a
dirty sock lying under the couch. It was probably hers. Oh well, at
least we kept our socks, she smirked. I'll clean up tommorrow she
thought. Right now I'm off to bed. With luck she would sleep til
Tuesday. Good night.


*********************************************************************


So long, and thanks for all the Crackers (01/01)
By: Berg Oswell, Mercenary
Time: The party at the end of the War
Place: The party at the end of the War


Having arrived late to the party, I'd missed most of the fireworks,
but on the plus side, that updraft *did* give me a nice aerial view of
Toronto.  ALL of Toronto.

Heading inside, I realized that the party was winding down, and people
were already leaving.  Seeing a familiar set of whiskers at a nearby
table, I headed over.

Timon was sitting on the table, chittering something in ratspeak.
Reaching into my pocket, I dropped a packet of crackers on the table,
and, as Timon scampered over to chow down, I reached down, and tweaked
his nose, while yelling "ARuuuuugha!  ARuuuuugha!"

Turning my back on Timon's outraged stare, I left the party, donned my
hang glider, and headed for home.


*********************************************************************


The Last Request
by, Charlyne, Crystal and Jay of the Vaqueras/os and Mel of the N&N
Pack

<Raven, as the wrap up party starts>

Once it looked like the truce was going to work, Vachon, Charlyne,
Jay, and Crystal decided to provide the music for the party. The long
weeks of the war had given them a chance to talk. They had found out a
common interest in music. Charlyne borrowed a keyboard from her friend
Dale. Jay borowed an electric guitar from his brother's best friend.

Charlyne set up the keyboard that she borrowed from her friend. Jay
and Vachon decided that Vachon would play the accoustics (his six
string and Jay's twelve). Jay set up a borrowed electric guitar. They
tuned them as close as they could get them. Then started fooling
around in the tuning session by playing odd combinations of tunes such
as Jump by Van Halen mixed with Turkey In The Straw. The crowd started
to get excited as they recognised the warm up tunes.

Once all the equipment was setup, Mel Moser took control of the
keyboard, Charlyne pulled out her flute, Jay and Vachon tuned their
guitars and Crystal warmed up her voice. They confirmed the play list
and decided to start off with 'Summer Time Blues.' They moved into a
variety of songs and started taking requests from the audience.


After a couple songs, Mel stepped over and whispered in Vachon's ear.
Vachon nodded and waved Crystal over and talked to her briefly then
nodded at both of the ladies.  Crystal went and talked to the others
filling them in on the next song requests.

Mel smiled and gave Vachon a quick kiss on the cheek.   He winked at
her and stepped up to the mike.

"This next song goes out to Natalie, from Nick".  Vachon smiled and
stepped back and let Crystal step up to the mike.

The band began the song.  It was "Because You Loved Me", the popular
song being sung by Celine Dione

Because You Loved Me
Words & Music,  by Diane Warren
As Sung By Celine Dion in Up Close & Personal

For all those times you stood by me
For all the truth that you made me see
For all the joy you brought to my life
For all the wrong that you made right
For every dream you made come true
For all the love I found in you
I'll be forever thankful baby
You're the one who held me up
Never let me fall
You're the one who saw me through
Through it all

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith 'coz you believed
I'm everything I am
Because you loved me

You gave me wings and made me fly
You touched my hand I could touch the sky
I lost my faith, you gave it back to me
You said no star was out of reach
You stood by me and I stood tall
I had your love I had it all
I'm grateful for each day you gave me
Maybe I don't know that much
But I know this much is true
I was blessed because I was loved by you.

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith 'coz you believed
I'm everything I am
Because you loved me

You were always there for me
The tender word that carried me
A light in the dark shining your love into my life
You've been my inspiration
Thorugh the lies you were the truth
My world is a better place because of you

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith 'coz you believed
I'm everything I am
Because you loved me


Crystal sighed softly as the song ended, the last strains of the music
and her lovely voice echoeing thru the Raven.

Mel noticed the N&Npackers all smiling, with tears in their eyes. She
looked at Vachon again, who nodded and stepped up to the mike.

"And this one goes out to Tracy, " Vachon smiled and blinked, looking
slightly awkward.  He scuffled his foot a little on the stage in his
shyness.  "Ahem.  From me.  And to Natalie from Nick."

He kept his eyes down on his guitar as Crystal took the mike again.
The band began a nice rhythmic beat and Crystal began the opening
strain of "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You".  Charlyne smiled
remembering the song from her wedding.  The song was originally sung
by Elvis, but she liked this modern arrangement of the song too.

As Crystal sang her heart out to all of the dedications, a thought
entered her mind.

She whispered, "Hey, Charlyne! What would the Vaqueros sing to
Vachon?"

"How about "'You're the Inspiration' by Chicago?" Charlyne replied.

So the impromptu group started the song to Vachon. All the Vaqueros,
became very quiet and reflective. They thought about the loss and
resurrection of Vachon and of how happy they were to have him back in
their lives.

Vachon felt a little embarrassed, when he felt eyes upon him from his
followers. As the song ended, Crystal was feeling like she couldn't
stand the lump in her heart. Then she said..."Ok folks! Enough of this
sentiment! Now a different song for Vachon...everybody stand up. I
want to hear you clap like this!!!"

As Crystal started the crowd into the rhythmic clapping she went to
confer with her bandmates...suddenly Jay started thumping hard chords
on the electric guitar.

The crowd cheered as the words entered into the rhythmic beat..."Wild
Thing..You Make My Heart Sing...You Make Everything... Groovy...Wild
Thing!!!!" The Vaqueros started screaming. Vachon shook his long hair
and tried his best to look like a sixties rock & roller.

        Both the musicians and the crowd alike got into the music.
Charlyne thought to herself, 'This is the way to end a war."


*********************************************************************


Susan's Birthday Present (1/1)
by Ravens Cynthia Hoffman and Jane Credland
Date:  Sunday, August 11, 1996 at 10:00 p.m.

Taking place prior to "Settling Accounts Payable" by Felicia Bollin (which
now takes place at 11:00 p.m. fyi).


All the Raven/ettes except Susan Garrett were huddled in Janette's
office. They had perched themselves on every available surface,
including the floor. Despite advance warning, almost all of them had
ended up finishing their packing in a rush.  In twos and threes, they
were exchanging complaints and stories about how difficult it was to
pack in less than four or five hours. Disgruntled references to
crushed clothing and the lack of space to fit in the purchases made
while in Toronto were another popular topic.  Each time the buzz of
whispered conversation reached a level loud enough to be heard in the
hallway outside, someone would "shush" and it would drop down again.

"Do you have it?"  Cynthia bent down to Jane, who was sitting with her
back against the wall.

"Yes."  Jane handed over a gold-wrapped present.  "I made sure that
everyone signed it, plus all the characters.  I even got Sharon to
sign it."

"Hush.  She's coming."  Melanie whispered from her post by the door.

Instantly, everyone became completely silent.  The sounds of footsteps
could be heard coming down the hallway, then Susan's voice.  "I don't
understand why we have to do this in your office."

"Cherie, you have been lax in your duties this war.  We need to talk
about how to handle this next time.  You wouldn't want to do this in
the bar where everyone could hear, n'est-ce pas?"  Janette replied.

Before Susan could reply, the vampire threw open the door and all of
the Raven/ettes yelled, "SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

A shy smile spread across Susan's face, replacing the shock that had
been her first reaction.  "You remembere