From sclark@best.com Mon Mar 16 15:41:37 1998 Date: Mon, 16 Mar 1998 11:35:10 -0700 From: clark To: fkfanfic@merlin.darkmage.net Subject: All the Lonely People 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. Love it/hate it/whatever, feedback is always welcomed. This story is based on characters and situations that aren't mine. Thanks to TPTB for their use. All the Lonely People by S. Clark Joe Reese walked the night streets of San Francisco's SOMA district. The low fog picked up a glow from the streetlights giving and eerie lightness to the sky. The delegation from Toronto Metro had all gone out to dinner in North Beach, some Italian place the hotel concierge had recommended. But he wasn't in a mood for company. The trip, aside from the conference on Fiscal Planning for Law Enforcement, was supposed to have been a second honeymoon of sorts for he and his wife, Denise. They were all set to stay for a long weekend after the conference had ended. Just three days to themselves in San Francisco. Then the chicken pox struck. Denise didn't want to leave the girls with a babysitter when they were sick. Although he agreed with her reasons, that didn't mean he didn't miss her. So, rather than joining in with the others, Reese decided to stroll the streets by himself. He knew full well he was just feeling sorry for himself but he didn't care. It wasn't like being in a restaurant full of drunken cops would make him feel any better. As he walked he pulled his coat closer around him. 'Who expected it to be freezing in California in the summertime,' he thought to himself. 'Always has to be different around here.' Up ahead the lights of a bar sign caught his eye. The Coroner's Club. 'Morbid sense of humor someone has.' Still, it was a chance to get inside for a few minutes, down a beer or two as antifreeze before the hike back to the hotel. Joe pushed his way through the black leather jacket crowd huddled outside the doorway for a smoke. He chuckled, trying to think of Toronto with a similar law. Smokers having to go outside a bar to smoke in the dead of winter, the wind chill hovering at 10 below zero. It took a minute or two for him to be able to push his way up to the bar. Loud music. Bright lights. Aside from the smokers being shoved outside this place could have been in Toronto. Or any city for that matter. Some things were universal. He scanned the list of microbrews wondering what might be worth drinking. Last night someone had talked him into trying some fruit flavored beer. It was a taste he found distinctly wretched. Joe felt quite old enough and secure enough that he didn't need to be trendy. All he wanted tonight was a beer flavored beer. "Try the pale ale," suggested a female voice coming from behind the bar. "It's very traditional." He nodded, still trying to make heads or tails of the beer list. A coaster was placed on the bar before him, and then the glass. Joe dug out his wallet and searched for a bill. In the darkened bar it was tough to tell which denomination was which, being they were all printed the same color. "Don't worry about it, it's on the house," said the woman. He took a sip and nodded at her. It took only a split second before he recognized the face. Once he did he almost spit the beer out in surprise. "Natalie Lambert?" It was as close as he ever felt to completely off guard. Of all the people he expected to never see again he was now looking at half of the top two. "Hello, Joe," she said, breaking into a wide smile. "It's good to see you." He returned the smile. "You, too. Although I'll tell you, I don't know if I should hug you or slug you. You don't know the trouble I went through after, well, Tracy and all." He was quiet for a moment, reflecting back. "And there's still an open investigation on you and Knight both." Joe took another swig and glanced around the bar. "Say, Nick wouldn't happen to be here, would he? You know, most of us figured you two just ran off somewhere to elope, that you'd be back in a few days." He looked into her eyes and saw only sadness. 'Damn,' he thought, 'should have found out more facts before I went forward with the theory.' She shrugged and leaned against the bar. "Things don't always happen as we want," she said. "And I am sorry for disappearing on you as I did. I guess the changes in my life were a bit more than I expected, could handle at the time." She added in quieter tones, "a bit more than he could accept." She smiled weakly at Joe and took a sip from her wineglass. "I'll help you close things out in Toronto. He placed a hand over the one she had resting on the bar. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just... well, it seemed..." He let the thought drop. Joe lightly squeezed her hand, hoping to bring back the smile. "Your hand feels a little cold, Natalie. I guess after a while you adjust to this weather." "You'd be surprised," she said, discreetly pulling her hand back. "I barely feel it anymore." He picked up a coaster. The Coroner's Club was written in silver on black using some funky handwriting style of script. "So, this is your place?" She nodded. "It took a while to get settled again, after. Once I did, I had to figure out something I could do to spend time with the living for a change. Since I'd become rather fond of the nighttime after all my graveyard shifts this seemed like a good plan. He nodded, but there was a silence between them. "You in town for business?" It was her turn to change the subject. He chuckled. "How'd you know?" "How else could you slip out here without Denise?" "Convention." He shrugged. "You know, dull meetings. The same old cops telling the same old stories they do every other time you see them." He glanced at his watch. "Speaking of which, I'd better get some sleep. I'm not quite accustomed to the time change. I keep waking up too early." He yawned for emphasis and picked up the coaster. "Natalie, it was a surprise but it was great to see you. Thanks for the beer." He held up the coaster. "I'll be in touch, to close things out." "Of course," she replied. "Give my love to Denise and the girls." As soon as he turned towards the door she made a quick tilt of the head in his direction. Just a slight signal across the room. Then, as an afterthought, she held up a coaster hoping that part of the message would be understood. Joe had walked half the block before he realized he was being followed. He cursed silently to himself but he knew that the meeting with Lambert had left him musing, dulled his street senses. Not the smartest move in this neighborhood. He looked back at the tall man that was walking closer. The face was familiar. "Good evening, Captain," said the stranger. "Have we met?" asked Reese. "I believe you had me arrested once." Joe stiffened slightly. 'Great, one of those revenge guys.' The man didn't appear angry. He appeared, if anything, amused. "It was a small misunderstanding." Joe thought back. Where did he know the face from? Toronto. Right around the same period of Knight and Vetter and all the other weird happenings. "You're that radio guy. The Nightstalker." Joe had always thought the guy was creepy when he heard the show. That suspicion was confirmed when he finally met the guy. The man gave a slight nod of the head in acknowledgment. "And you've been out strolling for too long." Joe couldn't quite name the feeling that was coming over him. He just heard the voice, that smooth radio voice. And he relaxed feeling as if he was falling into it. "In fact," continued the man, "that's all you did tonight." "All I did," echoed Reese. "You walked through this neighborhood but found it not to your liking. You don't expect to return to this area for the rest of your visit. You've heard it's unsafe for tourists." Reese mouthed the words blandly, "not safe." "But you did have a pleasant walk, during which you reminisced about old friends, friends long gone from Toronto. By morning, it will all be a pleasant memory." "Pleasant memory, memories of Knight and Lambert," Joe repeated. "But for now you'll continue on your walk. You need to get back to the hotel to sleep. You have no desire to return to this neighborhood. It's time to get back to your room and sleep." He never even felt the man remove the coaster from his jacket pocket. He just walked through the cool evening, falling asleep on the bed as soon as he arrived back at his hotel room. Joe Reese awoke early the next morning and called his wife. "Denise? How are the girls? Wrong? Nothing's wrong." He smiled. She always knew his thoughts. "I just spent a lot of time walking last night, thinking of friends I've lost. People I miss." He waited for her reply. "I know, honey. I miss you, too." He grinned as he listened to the girls on the extension, arguing about who had the most spots. Odd, he realized after he hung up the phone. The thoughts, the memories from Toronto had seemed so real as he was wandering the city streets the night before. Still, he guessed that being lonely, missing the family, reminded him of other lonely people. Or people who always seemed lonely, like Knight and Lambert. He hoped wherever they were, they were together. And happy.