From sclark@best.com Tue Jul 28 11:40:19 1998 Date: Sun, 12 Jul 1998 19:08:24 -0700 From: clark To: fkfanfic@merlin.darkmage.net Subject: Where Happy Little Bluebirds Fly (01/01) Permission given to archive at fkfanfic website as well as FTP site. No other permission is granted to repost/reprint/reuse. If you're interested drop me a line. As always, feedback is welcomed. And, as long as you're still reading, I figure I'll take the opportunity to mention a worthwhile FK related charity that's running concurrent to the posting of this story to the fkfic-l list. Todays event is the NA's planned cookbook, "Recipes from the Jeweled Peach." If purchasing a cookbook sounds interesting and you'd like more info feel free to drop me a line. If you don't like the story please don't hold it against the NA's. While I asked permission to mention their charity they knew nothing about what story it'd be tacked onto. This story is based on characters and situations that aren't mine. Thanks to TPTB for their use. Where Happy Little Bluebirds Fly by S. Clark Tracy Vetter's head was pounding. She was slowly working her way out of a haze only to find she wished she'd just go back to the haze if it was going to hurt this much. But from somewhere, somewhere close is seemed, she heard voices calling to her. As the haze was lifting she realized her eyes were open. Focus was returning to her vision and she saw three figured standing at the foot of the bed she was lying in. "Tracy?" It was a male voice, one she'd heard before. She tried to speak, or thought she was speaking, but no words came. "I think she's coming around." This voice was female. "Tracy, can you hear us?" Again she tried to say yes but it came out sounding closer to "Aagnhnk." "What'd she say?" Asked the woman? "I don't know." It was another male voice. This time it was a voice that wasn't familiar. Or, shouldn't have been familiar. In any case it was confusing. "Sounded like 'Aagnhnk' to me," said the familiar voice. Tracy blinked her eyes and her vision cleared a bit more. "Wha?" "Wha?" asked the woman. "Would you like water?" Tracy shook her head no. "I know, 'wait,'" suggested the familiar man's voice. "She wants us to wait for something." "I think it's 'whammy,'" suggested the third. He paused for a moment. "But hey, what do I know?" Tracy wanted them all to just be quiet and let her get a word in. "Where am I?" she finally managed. "In your room," said the woman. Tracy focused a bit more and could finally make out the face of Natalie Lambert, Toronto M.E. "Why?" "You got quite a bump on the head. Don't you remember?" Natalie's voice was soft with concern. "I remember being at the crash, the airplane." The memories and the words were coming easier. It was not quite as difficult to put them together through the pain. "What else?" She recognized this voice now. It belonged to her new partner, Nick Knight. "I must have gotten dizzy or something. I think I passed out." Tracy looked at the third man and found she liked what she saw. He looked much better now that he was no longer blurry; a handsome young man with dark eyes and long, dark hair. "You were there." The man chuckled. "What would I be doing at an airplane crash?" "I don't know," she said. "Why are you in my bedroom?" The man shrugged then grinned at her. "Good question." Tracy put a hand over her eyes hoping if she blocked out enough light it would damped the pain enough to put it all together. "No wait, I have seen you before. It's like a dream." She scanned the anxious faces before her then pointed to the man again. "You were there," she said with more confidence. She then pointed to Natalie, "and you," and then to her partner, "and you, also." Nick looked concerned. "What kind of a dream?" "I'm not sure." Tracy paused again. "I think parts of it were very nice. Maybe even fun. But some parts were awful. Through it all I just kept trying to convince people that I was a good cop." "Cases of lucid dreaming are not uncommon in head injuries," said Natalie. "But I am a good cop," repeated Tracy. "Of course you are," Nick agreed. Just then another man poked his head in. This time it was a man she didn't recall having seen before. He was a tall man with short-cropped hair "Well, I see the little lady is up and about." He looked directly at Tracy with his very cold blue eyes. "You gave us all quite a scare. Nicholas was concerned." Natalie smiled. "She looks ok now." Tracy rubbed her forehead. "Yeah, I guess. But shouldn't I be in a hospital or something?" "You're fine, Button," said the cute man with the dark hair. "Button? How do you..." she was positive now she'd seen that face before. If she could only remember where. Nick's brow was furrowed with worry. He was a contrast to the relieved demeanors of the others. "If you'll excuse us for just a moment," he told her and pulled the tall man out of the room. LaCroix waited until they were out of earshot to speak. "Nicholas, my boy, you seem agitated." "What have you done?" LaCroix shrugged. "I've done as you wanted." Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I wanted? When did I say I wanted the last several months of my life erased?" "You wanted her to forget Vachon," LaCroix explained, speaking slowly. "Yes." "So, the problem is?" "LaCroix, the problem is Vachon is here. He's alive." "Yes. He is, isn't he." Nick let out a very human sounding sigh. "But he died." "So did I once, or so you thought." LaCroix smiled a patronizing smile at his son. "But this is not how it was to be." "If I had left this to you and your doctor of death do you think we'd be in a better situation?" LaCroix hissed. "Leave Natalie out of this," demanded Nick. LaCroix, ignoring the warning, continued. "She'd probably be pressing you into some drastic action. You'd probably comply, inadvertently injure her and then feel such guilt you'd destroy yourself." He stared directly at Nick. "Or request I do the honors." Nick looked away. "This way is far better. We're all still here. Tracy Vetter doesn't remember a thing from the last few months. As long as we can keep her in denial we can stay on indefinitely." Nick nodded his head acquiescing to the truth of the situation. "But do me a favor?" he asked. "I shall consider it," said LaCroix. "What is the favor?" "Next time. Don't make me the Scarecrow."