Subject: The Least I Can Do (01/03) Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 13:47:06 -0700 From: clark To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Once again, I missed the holiday. Sorry. Anyway, thanks all who participated. I tried to include as many ideas as possible, I couldn't get them all in. 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. This story was based on characters and situations that aren't mine. Thanks to TPTB for their use. "The Least I Can Do" by S. Clark with the assistance of several patient people -- February 15 - 2:00 a.m. -- Natalie sat down on the cold metal bench and stared up at the ceiling. Off to one side she heard an unidentifiable noise. Actually, she knew it was a sound she'd rather not try to identify. She was tempted to close her eyes, try to get some sleep. But she knew that wasn't the best of ideas when seated down in the Metro Toronto lockup. It was Valentine's day -- had been Valentine's day, at least. Wasn't that supposed to be a special day? 'Hasn't been one of my best,' she thought. Natalie continued staring up at the gray cement ceiling and concentrated on the events of the evening. -- February 14 - noon -- Natalie awoke with a start as the great, gray blob that was Sydney plopped on her chest. She moved him to a more comfortable, for her at least, spot onto the bed. "Syd, I love you, but those bruises will be hard to explain." She peeked under her University sweatshirt. "Would be hard to explain, if there was someone to explain it to." She ran her hands through Sydney's fur, rubbing his belly. He showed his appreciation with a loud purr. Natalie looked back over her shoulder to take a look at the clock. "Time to get up." She leaned down and planted a kiss on Sydney's nose. He responded with an indignant meow and flicked his tongue up to lick his noise clean. She stuck out her tongue at him. "Ever see me complain about tuna breath?" Natalie rolled off the bed and padded towards the kitchen. "So, what do you want on this exciting Valentine's day?" Sydney hopped off the bed and followed. After rummaging around for a bit she came up with what seemed like reasonable selections. "Two Minute Gourmet for me, Cream of Kidney for you?" Sydney gave an indifferent meow as he rubbed against her bare legs. "I know. I'm as excited as you are." She plopped Syd's dinner into a dish, then plopped her own into a microwave. "I'd rather have a burrito and fries, myself. But we can't have everything." The phone rang, causing Natalie to jump. "They probably want me in at work, Syd. Can you stand the day without me?" To her surprise, it wasn't work. It was a man's voice; someone she didn't recognize. "Dr. Lambert, we haven't met, but I hope you don't mind me calling." The voice sounded confident, secure. "Not at all," she said, intrigued. "My name is Lionel. My brother is a friend of Myra Schanke." Natalie recalled Don Schanke chasing her around the lab with a slip of paper that had that name scrawled upon it. "Yes, Lionel, she's mentioned you." "To get to the point, I've found myself with two tickets to Medieval Times this evening. I'm wondering if you might be free to join me." She took a second to consider the implications of the setting, the thoughts it was likely to dredge up. Despite the fact she was trying not to think of the person of whom she was thinking, she decided it might be fun to check out the show. "Yes, Lionel, I believe I'm available this evening." The two of them solidified their plans for the evening. Lionel would be picking her up for dinner early in the evening. Natalie took a seat on the couch, and was again joined by Sydney. "My day's looking up a little," she announced. "What do you think of a date?" Sydney was busy grooming himself, and not paying much attention. "Perhaps I should just run away and join the circus. Become a tiger trainer. What do you think?" Sydney didn't respond. He was busy hacking up a hairball. "Well, I think K-Mart is having a sale. I'm off to find an outfit for tonight. Will you miss me, Syd?" Again, no response. "I thought so." -- February 14th - 2:00 pm It was with great luck that she'd found a red silk shirt with a black camisole on a blue light special. She considered something black and slinky, but wasn't sure that was the best pick for a dinner where one eats with their hands. Not that red silk was the best of choice for the setting, but she was sure she'd look good in it. Driving back to the apartment, though, the back left tire blew out on her car. She pulled off onto a side street, and realized she recognized the neighborhood. She was right in front of a familiar church. Natalie went inside to wait within the shelter for the travel service to show up. She huddled within the entryway, hoping the current occupants wouldn't mind a visit. And even though it wasn't totally unexpected, she jumped when she felt a cold hand upon her shoulder. Turning, she found herself face to face with a thin man, vampire, with a swarthy complexion (relatively, of course). "Excuse me," she said. "I hope you don't mind me waiting within." "You are welcome to share shelter within my abode." "Oi! Since when this be your shacky?" Natalie turned to see the other occupant. A bald man that could only be Screed. "Hey, you be that bird wot 'elps that defective." The Inca gave a slight nod of his head towards Natalie. "I am most honored to make your acquaintance." "'Ey! Wot's that!?" Natalie looked about here, not sure what was the object of Screed's attention. The carouche took off from a dead start and in seconds crossed the room. He stood up, smiling, holding a writhing rat by the tail. "Looks like a squealer come in from the cold, plump and bold." Natalie gave a wan smile. She wasn't sure she wanted to see what was going to happen next. "I'm going to open the door now," she warned them. "I need to check on my car." -- February 14th - 3:30 pm -- The road service showed up and changed the flat tire. Natalie drove to Tim Horton's for a coffee, and headed home. Subject: The Least I Can Do (02/03) Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 13:47:34 -0700 From: clark To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu All disclaimers in part 1. "The Least I Can Do" by S. Clark and the assistance of several patient people -- February 14th - 6:00 pm -- Lionel showed up at the door. She was amazed to find him as Myra described. Good looking; gorgeous, even. Polite. She began to wonder if he was a serial killer in his spare time. After all, given her dating history, what was the chance she'd actually find a nice, normal, single guy in Toronto. They took his car to Medieval Times, a light snow falling in the cold night. He drove a black Honda Accord, four door, leather interior. Classical music, volume set low, coming from the CD player. "So, Lionel. I know Myra's told me, but I forgot what you do." "Nothing too exciting, I'm afraid. I'm an accountant." Car, normal. Job, normal. Natalie wondered what oddities she had yet to discover. Or maybe it'd just be something small, like an android crashing to the earth or aliens using bees to spread a virus to eradicate all human life. Still, enjoying the little bit of normalcy while she had it, the two of them continued to make small talk as they headed to Medieval Times. -- February 14th - 7:30 pm -- Natalie went to fix her makeup. She was amazed to find someone she knew sitting in the restroom, attending to the same task. "Janette, what a surprise." Janette took another dab at the rouge, showing satisfaction with the results. "I do get out from time to time, Natalie." "But, I figured you might find all this somewhat, I don't know, cheesy given what it's recreating." "I find it amusing." Janette packed up her belongings. "Besides, my date finds it arousing." She gave Natalie a wink. "He does?" Natalie didn't want to ask who Janette's date might be, fearing the answer. "Oh yes. Miklos seems to regard as some sort of vicarious excitement of days gone by. Men are always excited by the prospect of carnage." Janette pushed away from the vanity. "Ta." Natalie was still somewhat stunned by the encounter when she returned to her seat. Lionel set down his turkey leg, and stood to pull out the seat for her, helping her to get settled again. He indicated the show. "So, what do you think?" "I think I should move to Black Harbour." "Excuse me?" Natalie turned to Lionel and gave him a smile. "Oh, just musing." She turned her attention to the surroundings. "This is lovely." With that she picked up her dinner and started gnawing on her own turkey leg and watched the show. -- February 14th - 9:30 pm -- With the dinner and the entertainment over, Natalie was finding she had very little to talk about with Lionel. They walked in silence back to his car. "I'm sure this is less exciting than your usual day," he said, picking up her on her quietness. She smiled in response, thinking of the fact her usual day consisted of poking around inside of bodies or surveying crime scenes for forensic evidence. "That's not necessarily a bad thing." "I suppose." He opened the door for her. "But the night seems early, I kind of hate to end things so soon." He leaned in close to her. She could feel his nearness, his heat. "Yes. I suppose you're right." He smiled and leaned a little closer. "I've got an idea." Natalie licked her top lip. "Which is?" He whispered the response. "Bowling." The answer broke the mood. "Bowling?" "There's always other things." Natalie could feel a tinge of mood returning. "Other things?" "Yes. Like poker. Or canasta." "Canasta?" "Not for money, of course." "Of course." This was getting, unusual, at best. Natalie took stock of her outfit. "Let's go bowling," she announced. -- February 14th - 10:00 pm -- Natalie rather liked the look of the bowling shoes with her red silk suit. But the bowling ball she was using was green, which clashed. That made her grumpy over the whole event. The snow had continued on the drive over. And, with the weather warming, had turned to rain. In the middle of the sixth frame, Lionel was set to take his second roll. His first ball netted a 6-10 split. And, being competitive as all accountants are, he wanted to pick up the pins for the spare. What he hadn't noticed, though, was the small pool of water collecting on the lane. The roof had some small holes. The warm weather and the rain were causing the ceiling to leak. As Lionel approached the foul line, his foot hit the small puddle of water. At the same time he'd swung the ball back in his approach. This caused his balance to be off enough that he went falling back, yet sliding forward at the same time. To make matters worse, another leak had formed above the alley's electrical panel. So, at the same time Lionel was taking his less than graceful tumble, the lights were going out in the building. A few people in the building scream. Natalie recognized one of the screams as Lionel's. While most shrieks were momentary, in response to the lights going out, or what someone had done to another as the lights went out. Lionel's screams continued. Natalie, being a medical doctor, recognized them as shrieks of pain. Natalie rushed over to where he lie, writhing in pain. "Where does it hurt?" "I'd rather not say," he hissed. "I am a doctor." She ran a hand through his hair. Even if her touch didn't make him feel better, she appreciated the opportunity. "But this is a PG-13 story." he said through a groan. Natalie smiled at the thought, "Oh." Then frowned at the implications. "Oh." "Help me to my feet?" She did as she was asked. With her assistance, he was able to limp to the door. Natalie realized she was leaving without her new, black, mock-alligator pumps. But, considering how much she fancied the bowling shoes, she saw this as a gain. At the car Lionel dug his keys out of his pocket, carefully. "Can you drive?" Natalie took the keys and rolled Lionel into the car. She ran around to the driver's side and climbed in. "I suppose I should take you home." "Then how will you get home?" "I can get a cab." She searched around for the windshield wipers. "Why not take my car?" He asked. "I couldn't do that. You'll need it." Lionel managed a smile at her. "It'll give me a reason to come pick it up." Natalie returned the smiled. "All right. I can do that, then." She drove him home and helped him up into his apartment. "I think some ice might help," she suggested. He nodded. "Thanks. I think I've got some muscle relaxants from an old soccer injury." "Want me to call you later?" He grabbed her hand. "How about in the morning. We can make breakfast plans." "Ok, breakfast." Lionel gave the back of her hand a quick kiss. "Thanks." Natalie let herself out. "Breakfast," she repeated to herself. "It showed promise." Subject: The Least I Can Do (03/03) Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 13:47:51 -0700 From: clark To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu All disclaimers in part 1. "The Least I Can Do" (03/03) by S. Clark and the assistance of several patient people -- February 14th - 11:15 pm -- Officer Tracy Vetter frowned at being stuck in a squad car on Valentine's day. Not that she didn't have other plans, but she didn't want to be working. And didn't want to be working a beat. She wanted to be a detective. She knew if she could make a name for herself, worked hard. Not that she hadn't already made a name. That was one problem, in fact, her name. The fact that her dad was a commissioner. Tracy knew she'd have to work twice as hard to get the respect she wanted from her co-workers. It was then she saw a black Accord whiz by her cruiser. Tracy flipped on the lights and started pursuit. She pulled the car over. "License and registration," she said. "Why?" asked the woman within the car. "Speeding," said the very serious young officer. "I wasn't going over the limit," argued the driver. "Too fast for conditions," she corrected. Natalie pulled out her license. "I don't have the registration. This isn't my car." "And who's car is it?" "A gentleman named Lionel." The officer looked at the license. "And his last name?" Natalie couldn't remember hearing his last name. "I'm not sure." "Give me your keys." "Excuse me? "Give me your keys," she repeated. Natalie grabbed the keys out of the ignition and handed them over. "Do you know this Lionel's address?" "I can't remember." She didn't expect to be returning to his apartment. Well, being honest, she thought she might be, but at that point, she expected he would be giving her directions. "But I do have a phone number." Office Vetter wrote down the number. "Wait here." She returned to her cruiser. Tracy tried contacting the number. She got nothing, not even an answering machine. Little did she know the man whose number it was had passed out due to taking a valium to relieve the pain. She ran the registration on the car. It was registered to a man named Lionel. Still, something didn't seem right. Officer Vetter returned to the car. "Have you been drinking, m'am?" "I had a mead a few hours ago, but my driving isn't impaired." The officer nodded. "Please step out of the car." The woman shook her head. "Look, I know people in the department. Perhaps you could call someone and we can get this all cleared up." "Is that a threat, m'am?" Natalie was taken aback. "Of course not. I'm just trying to make this easier. It's cold, it's rainy. It seems this is all a misunderstanding." "A misunderstanding you'd like to clear up." "I'm sure it'd be a simple matter," offered Natalie. "Step out of the car," repeated Vetter. This time, there was no 'please,' either spoken or implied. Natalie did as she was asked. "I'm going to have to take you to the station." "Can I ask why?" "Resisting arrest. Attempts to bribe an officer." "Excuse me." Natalie was so stunned she didn't move. "Grand theft auto, and driving too fast for conditions." Natalie was shocked. She'd tried to merely speak with the officer. How did all these other charges get implied, or even suggested. Natalie took a seat in the back of the car. "I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding, Officer." "Things you say can be used against you, m'am." Natalie rubbed at her forehead with her hand. "Can I get your name, Officer?" "Officer Vetter. I can also supply my badge number, if requested." "Vetter. Richard Vetter's daughter?" The officer's voice stayed stern. "Invoking my father's name won't be of any assistance to you." Natalie leaned back in the car, wondering where it had all gone so wrong. She was taken to the station, and booked. For some reason, Valentine's day was a busy day at the local lockup. It was an hour before she got a chance to make a phone call. And, to her great disappointment, the person she called wasn't home. Natalie returned to her cell, and, ensconced in a corner, waited for a chance to be brought before the judge. -- February 15th - 4:00 am -- Natalie heard her name called out. She went to the cell door and was met by a matron. "Is it my hearing?" "Someone has posted bail. You're free to leave." Natalie smiled. He must have gotten the message. She walked quickly towards the lobby, but stopped dead when she saw the man in the lobby. "Doctor Lambert," he said, giving a slight tilt of the head. "And you are?" "Of course," he said, his tone genteel. "We haven't been properly introduced. I am LaCroix, Lucien LaCroix." She took a tentative step forward. "Do I have you to thank for this?" His smile was present, but barely perceptible. "I found you had been interred. I thought perhaps I could assist you from this predicament, and you could help me with a situation of my own." While she couldn't deny she was nervous about the situation, but here was not the place to make a scene. "I'll try." He looked around the room. "Here is not the venue. Perhaps we can retire to your apartment." Natalie didn't want to have the older vampire to her place. But, she realized she had no way to keep him out if he was determined to enter. It might as well be under invitation rather than an adversarial incident. Without Lionel's car, it'd been impounded, they took a cab back to Natalie's apartment. -- February 15th - 6:00 am -- LaCroix settled back on the couch, stroking Sydney. The cat had instantly warmed to the visitor, climbing up into his lap shortly after the stranger had taken a seat. "I'm sorry I have nothing to offer you," said Natalie. "I don't usually stay stocked." "I appreciate your hospitality. I'm enjoying our visit. We should spend each Valentine's Day together." Natalie was loosening up, not as nervous in LaCroix's presence. She did have to admit he had an undeniable charisma. And it was getting late, or early, as the case may be. It wasn't the first time a vampire stayed the day. Actually, correcting herself, it was the first time a vampire stayed the day. "We still need to discuss the purpose for my visit." "And that purpose?" Natalie could feel her heart racing. "I want to be mortal." She searched his face for any twitches, any indication that he might be toying with her. "You do?" "I'm sure you find this a surprise." Natalie nodded, speechless. "Good. Shall we spend the day speaking, then?" "I suppose we don't have a choice." He smiled again. That same, enigmatic smile. "My dear, there are always choices. You have made yours, and I mine. Let's see what can be done with that." She knew Lionel would be calling any time now. Let him pick up his own car from impound. Her day was turning out to be much more interesting than she had expected. It even made her forget all about that other guy.