The following story is my take on what happened after Nick woke up on Nat's autopsy table in 'Only The Lonely'. I'm afraid I've taken liberties with canon--hope everyone will look the other way over that. There was a post that appeared in the early spring that intrigued me right from the beginning. Someone (I'm sorry, I don't remember who) put forth the theory that vampires are capable of two types of hypnotism, each distinctly different. One is used to try to manipulate a mortal's mind, i.e. plant a thought, erase a memory, or some other form of influence. The other is a hunting skill, used on an intended victim ... and is much more powerful. I've incorporated this theory into my story. My heartfelt gratitude to my two wonderful beta-readers, Heather-Anne Gillis and Lea Condren. You two ladies are the best! If there are any mistakes here, they're all mine! The world of FK and its characters were created by James Parriott and Barney Cohen, and belong to Sony/Tristar. No copyright infringement is intended. Permission to archive is given to the UCC website, the DarkNN website, the ftp site, and Mel's FK fanfic site. No other permission is given to reprint, repost or reuse. This is dedicated, with love and appreciation, to Heather-Anne, who will be celebrating her birthday on October 16th. Happy Birthday, sweetheart ... this one's for you! One Lonely Knight By: C. Brady Written in October, 1999 Natalie sat, working diligently at reducing the pile of paperwork that had somehow accumulated on her desk. She sighed deeply, feeling slightly depressed that she was spending her birthday buried up to her neck in mounds of official forms. Today, she'd turned 28. Whoopee. It had actually been her day off, but she had volunteered to come in anyway ... it's not like she actually had a life outside of this office. Being the youngest doctor on the Metropolitan Toronto Coroner's Office payroll, she found herself constantly working harder, longer, and with more intensity than any of her other colleagues. She felt she had to prove herself ... prove that she deserved her place here. She'd just completed an autopsy on a seventy-three-year-old man who had been found dead in his apartment, and was now determined to finish her report on the case. Her shift started at 5 p.m.; it was now shortly after 11, and she would work until 5 a.m. Twelve hour shifts were a necessary evil, all part of the job ... and as the new kid on the block, she got to work the graveyard shift. Whoopee again. Natalie returned her attention to the forms in front of her, then was distracted by the sound of a gurney being pushed down the hallway outside of her office. The doors opened and Eddie, one of the morgue assistants, pushed the stretcher into the autopsy suite, and brought it to a stop beside the stainless steel table. Rising to meet him, her eyes automatically going to the black body bag cocooning her newest case, she asked: "What is it, Eddie?" "It's a bad one. You're going to wish you'd spent your 28th birthday at Pizza Palace, or something." Straining to help Eddie transfer the heavy bag from the gurney to the table, Natalie noted that blood was literally flowing out of the bag, and there was a large puddle left behind on the gurney. She asked, "Who is it and what happened?" "They couldn't find any I.D. People who saw him before the explosion ..." "Explosion?" Natalie interrupted, feeling her stomach start to churn. "He tried to stop a gang-robbery. Someone threw him a pipe-bomb for his trouble," Eddie informed her, and then continued. "It's a real mess ... at least there's not much of a face to look at." This last sentence was uttered as Eddie backed out of the room. Finally giving up all pretense, he made a quick, hasty exit. Nat wished she could follow him. The thought of having to piece together a victim that had been blown apart was definitely not on her list of 'Fun Things To Do On Your Birthday.' But this was her job, and she was going to have to get her squeamishness under control, and get on with it. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, and steeling herself against what she was about to see, she started to unzip the bag. Natalie stared, unbelieving, at the man being slowly revealed to her gaze. He had just been blown up? Eddie said there wasn't much of a face to look at ... but the face she was looking at, while being cut and bruised, looked to be in surprisingly good shape. As a matter of fact ... it was a rather handsome face. "This isn't so bad ..." Natalie spoke aloud. "It's not so bad at all ..." she said, gently stroking the blond man's cheek. What a horrible shame, he didn't appear to be much older than she was ... perhaps early thirties? How sad to have his life end in this way. Unzipping the bag the rest of the way, she was shocked to find that the rest of him looked to be as unharmed as his face. What was going on?? Turning away, Nat walked over to her desk and called upstairs. There must be some kind of mistake. A mix-up in the tagging process, perhaps? This was certainly no bombing victim! Natalie got the Records Office and gave the I.D. tag number. She was informed that this was indeed the victim of the pipe bomb. Nat's confusion grew. "No, there must be some kind of mistake," she said. "This is no bomb victim ... this guy looks like he just barely cut himself shaving this morning." Once again she was told, rather curtly this time, that this WAS the bomb victim, and that the Records department was a very busy place. Did she have another question? She'd barely drawn in a breath to say "No" when the connection was broken. Feeling incensed at being hung up on, she was about to hit 'redial' when she heard a sound behind her. Thinking that Eddie had screwed up enough courage to return, she turned around ... ... and felt as if she had suddenly entered the 'twilight zone'. The 'corpse' was now sitting up on the autopsy table, looking around in confusion. Nat dropped the phone and gasped. His head whipped around and Nat found herself pinned by a pair of amber eyes. They were *glowing*, for the love of God! His lips peeled back from his teeth, and Natalie suddenly had a very clear view of a pair of elongated canines, which looked to be wickedly sharp. Nat took a few steps backwards, and was stopped suddenly by the wall pressing up against her back. She could hear her heart thundering in her ears as her brain made a furious attempt to find some logical explanation for the sight before her. "What the ... what the hell??" she managed to sputter. "You were *dead* a minute ago! Who are you? she demanded. "You don't need to know..." was her only answer. The man leapt off the table and started scanning the room again. Spotting the refrigerator in the back of the room, he almost ran over to it. Flinging the door open, he grabbed a bag filled with whole blood. Then, to her horror and revulsion, he pierced it with those unusual teeth, and began to drink it. In less than thirty seconds, he had the bag completely drained of it's contents. He pulled out another. Nat had the surreal feeling that this was all some kind of bizarre waking nightmare. Her logical mind could not fathom what her eyes were witnessing. "Who are you?" she whispered. "*What* are you?" She was again pinned by those mesmerizing golden eyes as he answered in a deep, smooth voice, "Something very different from you ..." Bringing the full bag up to his mouth, he began to drink. He drained this one as swiftly as the first, and threw the empty bag into the sink on the autopsy table. Natalie was horrified by what she had seen, but her scientific mind demanded answers. Slowly, she approached the handsome, terrifying stranger. He watched her as she drew slowly nearer, those incredible eyes shining with an unholy interest. He licked his lips as he watched her move steadily closer. Nat had the uncomfortable feeling that he was looking at her in much the same way as she would look at a piece of triple chocolate cheesecake. It caused a shiver to run down her spine. When she was about 2 feet away, she stopped. "What ...?" she began. "I am a vampire." he stated flatly. "A vampire." Natalie repeated with wonder. Involuntarily, she reached out to touch him. With lightning fast reflexes, he captured her hand in his. His look was a clear warning ... stay back! Slowly, he placed the back of her hand against his cheek. Natalie drew in a quick breath. "You're so cold," she stated, amazed by the fact that his skin felt like cool marble. She noticed that his eyes were no longer that frightening, glowing amber. They were now a marvelous shade of denim blue. He really was a very attractive man. He gave her a look filled with an ancient sadness. "I'm dead," he answered. "No. No, you're not ... you're not dead." Natalie asserted. He looked confused at first and then ... angry. "What do you know about it, *doctor*?" he hissed, making her title seem almost dirty. "What do you know of my existence, my so-called 'life'?" "Nothing that you don't tell me," Natalie responded, "but perhaps I could help you." Systematically, her mind was already trying to process possible solutions to this new phenomenon. "Maybe we could ..." "Help me?? Do you have any idea how many others have offered to help me? How many experiments have been conducted on me? How many lies, how many false hopes?" His eyes began to glow again. "I am beyond mortal 'help'. I am a hunter, doctor, a predator. I take little girls like you and I destroy them. Shall I show you exactly what I am?" Tightening his grip on her hand, he slowly pulled her closer, bringing her into a lover's embrace. Nat's heart leapt into her throat at his words, but she was determined to show no fear. Looking directly into his eyes, she made a valiant effort to appear unafraid. "You're a courageous woman, doctor. You appear so unaffected, but I have an advantage, you see ... I can hear the wild beating of your heart, the leaping of your pulse. I can smell your blood as it races through your veins ..." She was pressed up against his hard chest now, could feel the coolness of his flesh even through the fabric of his shirt. One of his hands came up and pulled the clip out of her hair, allowing it to cascade in fiery splendor around her shoulders. He picked up an errant curl, allowing it to slip through his fingers. "You have beautiful hair, Dr... ?" "L .. Lambert ... Natalie Lambert," she managed to state, somewhat breathlessly. "Dr. Lambert ... may I call you Natalie?" he asked, with a mocking gallantry. At her nod, he continued. "Your hair is like fire and silk. You should always wear it down, Natalie." The way he said her name was almost a caress. She shivered. "That ... that would be pretty difficult around here," Nat breathed. "It would only get in my way ..." Moving his hand away from her hair, he gently stroked her cheek, and then cupped her chin. Tipping her head back, he locked his eyes onto hers. Natalie found that she was unable to tear her gaze away from his. His glowing eyes were s-o-o-o intriguing. "You are a very beautiful woman, Dr. Natalie Lambert ... what a sin to keep such beauty shut away within this antiseptic chamber. The dead can't appreciate it ... but I can." Slowly, he began to lower his mouth toward hers. At the first touch of his cool lips on her own, Nat felt lost. There was a buzzing sound in her head, and her brain felt as if it had been shot full of Novocain. He was cupping her face with both hands now, gently placing feather-light kisses across her lips, teasing a response from her. When he got it, he pulled her into a tight embrace, and deepened the kiss ... his tongue making it's first gentle assault on her senses. She responded in kind, her tongue caressing the velvet of his. Nat couldn't understand what was happening--she was passionately kissing a stranger in the middle of the morgue. A stranger who, only ten minutes ago, had been a corpse awaiting autopsy. She didn't understand ... but she was helpless to stop. It was as if some inner voice was whispering to her, compelling her to yield all choice to him. Suddenly pulling his lips from hers, he began to rain passionate kisses beside her mouth, and along her jaw. Almost reluctantly, she felt him move to her neck. His tongue stroked the side of her throat, along her jugular, which she knew would be jumping with the racing of her heart. She heard a low growl and felt the scrape of his teeth along her skin. A part of her wanted to push him closer, to increase the intimacy. But another part ... the stronger part, was screaming at her to STOP! "Wait!" she managed to gasp. At his hesitation, she blurted, "What's your name? You never told me who you are." Straightening up, he looked down at her and smiled, slowly revealing those sharp looking teeth again. 'Oh, why not call them what they are, Lambert?' she thought. 'They're fangs.' Fascinated, she found herself staring at them, wondering what it would feel like to actually be bitten. She watched as his tongue slowly ran over them, and then moistened his lips. He had a beautiful mouth, and his lips were full and soft. What was happening to her?? "I have been many people in the past eight hundred years, Natalie ... but for now, you may call me Nicholas," he purred in a deep, soothing voice. "Now ... look at me." It was incredibly difficult to deny him ... why was that? Natalie wondered as her eyes were involuntarily drawn to his again. They were so incredible, those eyes. The way they glowed, they seemed to bore right into her soul. She wanted to stare into them forever. She wanted to give him anything he wanted, she needed him to hold her again ... Pulling her close once again, he tipped her chin up and slowly lowered his mouth to her throat once more. Nat's mind was racing like a rat caught in a maze. She was thrilled and terrified at the same time, and she couldn't understand why she wasn't screaming and fighting. All she knew was that 'Nicholas' was about to bite her, probably kill her, and she couldn't seem to find the strength, nor the will, to resist him. With deadly accuracy, his mouth had unerringly found her jugular again. She felt his arms tighten around her, holding her immobile, almost robbing her of her breath. His right hand was entwined within the silken threads of her hair, tipping her head to one side. His tongue stroked her throat, leaving a cool, wet trail. She could hear his breathing become erratic, and the growling increased in volume and depth. Closing her eyes in carnal terror, she waited for the sting of his fangs. It never came. Shouting "NO!!" and flinging himself violently away from her, Nicholas put the width of the room between them. Abruptly, it seemed that the bands around her will had been released. She tried desperately to clear the cobwebs from her brain. What was going on? She felt almost drugged, or drunk, and her usually razor-sharp mind was responding sluggishly, at best. But her survival instinct was in overdrive, insisting that she do something ... NOW!! Good God, had he hypnotized her? Weren't vampires supposed to be able to do that? She was woefully ignorant on supernatural legends--her focus had always been on the scientific. She had always firmly believed that everything had a reasonable, logical explanation. But tonight ... tonight she had turned 28, and her well-ordered, rational existence had just been ruthlessly shattered. Well, she wouldn't be caught unprepared a second time! She'd be damned if she'd let him do that to her again. Nicholas was standing across the room, leaning on her desk, bent over as if in pain. His back was to her, but she could read the tension and strain in the rigidity of his shoulders. He was breathing rapidly--she could hear the shallow gasps from where she stood. The doctor in her re-asserted itself, and she was compelled to ask, "Are you all right?" Nicholas stiffened, and then suddenly spun on his heels so that he was facing her once again. Natalie gasped. His eyes were no longer gold, they were now a bright, blood red. They were glowing with a profane hunger, and Nat shivered at the raw need she saw reflected there. The sudden thought of how close she had come to death tried to rob her knees of their strength. Yet ... she felt a wave of compassion for this handsome creature, who was so obviously struggling with his desires. Nicholas closed his eyes, his internal battle evident in the set of his features. After an agonizing few seconds, he looked at her again, his eyes once more a blameless blue. "Look at me!" Nicholas commanded in an imperious tone. Keeping a firm grip on her will, Natalie complied, afraid that an outward show of defiance would be very ill-advised at this particular point in time. She could feel that buzzing in her head again, but it was weaker, less insistent than it had been earlier. "You will forget this whole incident," Nicholas instructed. "You will have no memory of tonight's events at all, do you understand?" Thinking that a little subterfuge might be in her best interest, Nat nodded her acceptance of his suggestion. "You must forget ... SAY IT!" he ordered. "I ... I must forget," Nat repeated, desperately hoping he believed her. "You will have no memory of our meeting, and you don't believe in vampires," he continued. "I won't remember our meeting ... I don't believe in vampires," Natalie parroted. "Good ... now close your eyes," he said gently. Obediently, Natalie closed her eyes to slits, peeking out at him and wondering what was coming next. Her heart leapt into her throat as she watched him slowly approach her once again. What was he going to do? Did he see through her facade? She stood still and outwardly remained calm through sheer force of will. He stopped directly in front of her and his hand reached out to caress her hair once again. "So beautiful ... and so brave," he murmured, with a sad smile. "Good-bye, Dr. Natalie Lambert ... how I wish I could have met you at another time ... another century ... before ..." he whispered, almost too softly for her to hear. Leaning forward, he brushed a ghost of a kiss lightly across her forehead. Then, before she could draw a breath ... he was gone. Natalie's eyes flew open and she quickly scanned the room. He was nowhere to be found, it was as if he vanished into thin air. The speed with which he could move was mind-boggling! One moment, he was standing right in front of her, and the next, he was just ... gone. The adrenalin rush she had experienced, that had allowed her to deal with this unbelievable situation, was now receding ... and Natalie found herself starting to shake uncontrollably. Quickly moving to her chair before her legs gave out on her, she collapsed onto it. Laying her head on her arms at her desk, she concentrated on taking deep, calming breaths. Gradually, her galloping heart slowed to a more reasonable pace, and she could once again think coherently. Sitting up, she began to think about what had taken place. She still found it incredibly hard to believe that she had actually encountered a real, live vampire. It was the 20th century, for heaven sake! But she was too objective to not believe evidence that had been right before her eyes. As much as she would like to scoff at the idea of the paranormal, the creature she had encountered tonight was certainly beyond her experience. She was fascinated by him. He mentioned being many people over the past 800 years; was it really possible for a being to live that long? Could she help him? Would he allow her to? He seemed capable of tenderness--his gentle touch as he stroked her hair proved that. He was also not ruthless, much as he had tried to convince her of that with his comment about destroying little girls like her. He could have killed her ... indeed she believed he wanted to kill her for a short time, but he didn't. Nat shivered when she remembered how she had craved that fatal embrace, she had yearned for the feeling of his teeth piercing her flesh. He had influenced her somehow ... but how?? Realizing she had more questions than answers, she decided then and there that she would find him again, somehow. She'd make him understand that she honestly wanted to help him, and hoped that he would be able to trust her. Her mouth set in a determined line, she vowed to herself, 'Oh, yes ... we will meet again, Nicholas, my eight-hundred-year-old friend. I have a feeling we're going to be a big part of each other's lives from now on ...' (?) One Lonely Knight By: C. Brady Copyright October, 1999 I love feedback! All comments are welcome at: fbrady@interhop.net Thanks for reading!