Subject: Charity Date: Tue, 9 Feb 1999 08:41:23 -0700 From: clark To: Stephanie Kellerman This is follows two other stories I've written, "Hope" and "Faith". Due to some language and descriptions, "Hope" was posted under an adult header. If you're interested in reading it, you're of legal age, and all that, it's available on my website, http://www.best.com/~sclark/fk/. "Faith" is also available on the website. Permission given to archive at fkfanfic website and the ftp site. No other permission is granted to repost/reprint/reuse. If you're interested drop me a line. As always, feedback is welcomed. This story is based on characters and situations that aren't mine. Thanks to TPTB for their use. "Charity" by S. Clark Janette's finger traced a path along the bar as she moved towards the solitary figure. Seated, nursing a glass of the usual, was the club's sole patron. One of the few with all hours access. She leaned against the bar and placed a hand on his shoulder. Then let her finger trace a lazy path along his jawline. "Something is bothering you." She was met with an enigmatic smile. "No." Janette took his glass and sipped from it, then set it back before them. "Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" His fixed gaze upon her. "I am curious." "About?" "What do you know of Nicholas's plans?" Janette turned away, and walked behind the bar. She poured herself a drink as she spoke. "And what plans might those be?" "Always the coy one, Janette." She answered with a smile, and refilled his glass. He steepled his fingers. "I had an interesting visitor last night. He came to the station. One of us, and, I must say, he had a wretched taste in haberdashery." She looked into his eyes. "An enforcer." LaCroix smiled. "Yes." "What did he want?" "It seems our Nicholas has been attracting attention in some circles." "And what did you tell him?" Janette tried not to let her anxiety show. Still, it was hard to stay calm when the enforcers became interested in local events. "I told him Nicholas is mine. If there is a situation that needs attention, I shall attend to it." "And they accepted that?" "Is there a reason they shouldn't?" Janette looked down, suddenly interested in wiping a spot off the bar. LaCroix smiled again. "Nicholas's actions are not hidden to me. I know of his current dalliance with his 'doctor.'" "You've heard of the wedding?" "The wedding." LaCroix took another sip, then smiled. "Pity I wasn't invited. I have been to one of his weddings in the past, and found it quite entertaining." "Then you know?" "The child? I've never begrudged Nicholas his offspring." Janette regarded her creator for a moment. "Can I not share in my son's joy?" "What is it you really want, LaCroix?" LaCroix wrapped his fingers around the stem of his glass. "Not a thing, Janette. Not a thing." He picked up the glass and held it out towards Janette. "To our Nicholas." The two glasses met in a musical 'clink,' and each took a sip. Only LaCroix smiled. ### Schanke took a seat next to his partner. "So, bud, how's the married life going?" Nick eased the caddie into traffic. "Just fine, Schank." "Things can be tough, you know adjusting." Nick passed on making a response, hoping Schanke would take the hint. "Especially..." "Especially what?" Then again, some things deserved a response. Schanke cleared his throat. "Especially when you're living with a pregnant woman. Believe me. I been through it." Nick turned on the radio, wondering if that might deter Schanke. "I'm just saying, Nick," Schanke reached for the knob and turned down the volume. "Sorry, I hope you don't mind." Nick grimaced. So much for subtlety. "Anyway, you guys got married kind of fast. You have the baby on the way. I just hope you didn't feel pressured into it." "Schanke?" "You know, Nick. I wish you guys the best. And, obviously, there's gotta be something between you. I mean she's what, seven months gone now? But, I want you to be sure you're in this for the right reason. Not because a casual thing got a little out of hand one night." Nick pulled the car over to the side of the road and put it into park. "Schank, you may think you mean well, but do not ever question my marriage again." "Sorry, Nick. That might have come out wrong. I am with you guys." Schanke patted his partner on the shoulder, only to be rewarded with a withering glance. He pulled his hand away and turned his attention out the front window. In a way, Nick knew Schanke was right. He couldn't say that he felt pressured into the marriage. But he was wondering if Natalie would feel the same. After all, he had kept proposing until he'd worn down her resistance. Perhaps it was just the hormones that caused her to give in. And now, how long could he stay with her, with the child, here in Toronto? Maybe Natalie hadn't chosen well, allowing herself to be locked into a marriage without the chance of a physical relationship. Would what he could offer be enough for her? What would she expect after the baby was born? Nick pulled the car away from the curb. Another night of asking himself these questions. Questions he hadn't the strength to speak aloud to Natalie. "I know you mean well, Schank," Nick said, finally, his voice softly breaking the silence within the caddie. "Yeah, I do." The two rode in silence the remainder of the journey to the station.