Subject: [NNPack] Last Things (01/03) Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2000 20:59:56 -0400 From: "Mary Combs" Reply-To: NNPack@egroups.com To: "Nick&NatPack" , "FKFIC-L" This story was originally written for the for the "Taste of Forever" 'zine, which is now out of print. It is set in that alternate universe where Season Three never happened. Mel Moser may archive this on the fkfanfic.com site and Stephanie may archive it on the ftp site. The story is copyright to me. Last Things By Mary Combs May 1999© Portland, Oregon, 2050. The silence woke him. Half a century of sharing her bed had made the sound of her heartbeat and the rhythm of her breathing the very fabric of his rest. Their sudden absence roused him more surely than a clap of thunder. He opened his eyes slowly, reluctantly, knowing what he would see: Natalie's face, still and pale against the pillow, all life fled. Her head was turned toward him, one hand resting lightly on the sheet at her breast. He reached out and took it in his own - cool, now, even to him, but not yet stiff with rigor. Death had come gently. It was what they both had prayed for, yet as he pressed her fingers to his lips he wished for one selfish moment that she had been awake, able to speak one last farewell. It was a foolish thought. They had known this was coming, had been preparing for months. Everything had been said, that needed to be said. Still....... Nick buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder and wept. When the phone rang, he resisted the urge to throw the unit against the bedroom wall. It would have been a futile gesture. With a sigh, he reached for the handset, leaving the vidscreen disabled. He didn't need to see who it was. "LaCroix." "Nicholas. My condolences." He remained silent. His master chose to take no notice. "I assume that three days will be sufficient for you to tie up any loose ends. I'll arrange for our return flight to Paris. I suggest that you 'pack light,' as the saying goes. We shall be going on to Avignon almost immediately. If there are any little souvenirs or mementos you wish to keep, you should send them directly to the villa." Still silent, Nick nodded. There was a slight pause, and LaCroix added softly, but with great intensity: "Nicholas, I trust you remember your promise." Even more softly, Nick replied, "Yes, I remember. I'll keep my word." *******************************************(flashback) April 1996 "I can't do it, Nat." "Can't do what?" she asked, over her shoulder. She finished emptying the can of tuna fish into Sidney's dish, rinsed her hands in the sink and - hearing no answer - turned to look at him, the trace of a smile fading as she saw the expression on his face. "Can't do what?" she whispered, stepping as close to him as she dared. Nick slowly lifted his hand and traced the lines of her face lightly with his fingertips. "I can't leave." His voice was anguished. He closed the slight distance between them and pressed his lips against her hair, then took her face in his hands. "God help me, Nat. God help us both. I can't leave you." "Leave? Leave? Who said anything about leaving..?" She was confused and angry. This, he had expected. He did not expect what she said next. "LaCroix. He's changed his mind. About us. After everything he put you through....." Nick stared at her, his jaw literally dropping in astonishment. She remembered. Valentine's Day. Azure. All of it..... It took the better part of the night to talk it through. There were apologies and admissions on both sides - and promises renewed and a new understanding. When dawn came, a faint hint of rose around the curtains Natalie had pulled tightly over the windows, they were sitting exhausted on the floor, leaning against her couch and each other, staring into the embers of the fire. Thinking...... "There may be a way, Nat." ---------------- He stood at the door of the broadcast booth, waiting until LaCroix beckoned him in. There was an ironic smile on his master's face, and something very cold in the blue eyes. The elder vampire no doubt knew exactly why he was here. But the formality of words was still required. "First, I'm sorry." "For anything in particular?" "I'm sorry about Fleur." "It's a little late for that." "I'm not sorry I stopped you. I'm sorry that I never understood how much it hurt you." A slight nod of acknowledgment...."So, you wish to.... renegotiate the terms of our agreement?" "That night, you made me promise that if I ever loved a mortal woman, you could destroy her. I had no right to make that promise; no right to dispose of any soul but my own." LaCroix bit back an acid response. He let the younger vampire continue, while he attended to the vibration along the link that told him more than mere words. "You wanted to bring my sister into the darkness. You stopped because you knew I was right. About how she would change. " The only answer was a steely gaze. "I do not want from Natalie what you wanted from Fleur. I do not want to bring her across. I do not want to share that kind of eternity with her. I want what you never offered my sister. I want a lifetime with her. Her mortal lifetime. In exchange, I'll return to you when... when she's gone." "Precisely what do you mean by 'return'?" "Whatever you want it to mean, but for this: I won't kill, or feed on the death or suffering of others." There was a flash of determination in Nick's eyes and a trace of defiance in his voice, but he stood quietly, waiting, as LaCroix gazed at him over steepled fingers. "And your search for mortality?" Nick was silent..... "If I chose to destroy both of you, there would be nothing you could do to stop me." Nick nodded, mutely acknowledging his master's power. "And if I chose to bring *her* across...." Nick said nothing, but there was a flicker along the link that drove LaCroix to bring a swift end to the negotiations. He stood and stepped toward his son, hands clasped behind his back. "Very well. I release you from your promise. You may have her lifetime. When her brief span on Earth is over, you will return to me." He raised a hand, anticipating Nick's question. "I promise to do nothing to shorten that span - by action or by inaction. As to your 'quest'.... " He stared at his son for a long moment, several beats of a human heart. "I'll exact no promises on that score. Since it is futile....." "Thank you." Nick's voice was choked with emotion. He toyed briefly with the idea of reaching out, offering LaCroix his hand, but something in the older vampire's posture forbade it. "Thank you." He turned to go. "One thing more....." Nick turned back, suddenly wary. "Your solemn oath. No matter what happens - even if she dies at your hands - you will not take your own life." His son responded instantly. "I swear it." LaCroix raised an eyebrow, and Nick replied with a small sad smile. "You expected an argument? I already lost that debate tonight. And I already made that promise.... to Natalie." LaCroix watched him go, feeling the link stretch to a slender, unbreakable thread as his son moved further away, out into the city, out into a new life. He would soon erect the mental barriers that would dampen that connection - as much for his own sake as for Nicholas'. As he suspected, the boy had no idea of the deepest current of his own emotions. Caught up in his concern for the woman, his fears and hopes, he had been oblivious to feelings that his master read easily. LaCroix knew beyond a doubt that if he took the stand he had in Azure, in his present state, Nick would choose his own death over Natalie Lambert's destruction. This was a choice that must never be offered. He would rather face a millennium of bearing with Nicholas' yearning for mortality than a single day knowing that his son was dead. He sighed, closed his eyes and whispered to the empty air. "Blink, Nicholas, and she'll be gone." *******************************************(end flashback) "Very well. À demain, mon fils." "Until tomorrow, LaCroix." Nick put down the phone. He got out of bed and pulled back the covers. Gently, he turned Natalie onto her back. He tidied her nightgown and the bedclothes, placing her hands across her breast on top of the sheet. He smiled slightly, remembering how she used to tease him about sleeping like a knight on a tomb. It had taken him years to get out of the habit. Except, of course, when she was in his arms. He took the brush from the dresser and carefully drew it through the long, white tresses. It was antique silver, part of a Victorian set he had given her on her 50th birthday. She had laughed and said "Just who is this present for, you or me?" He loved to brush her hair. He loved to watch her face in the mirror as he did it. She would close her eyes and relax, and a smile of contentment would spread across her face. He had asked her once if she kept it long only because it pleased him, if she would rather cut it and have something easier to take care of. She had laughed and shaken her head. "And miss this?" ... When he was done, he looked at the clock. 7:30 a.m. Too early to call the hospice. He walked into the bathroom and mechanically took out his shaving gear. He paused to stare at the face in the mirror. Essentially the same face that had stared back at him for 8 centuries. There were a few subtle changes. He wondered what LaCroix would make of them. A line or two here and there. Four gray hairs. His strength and speed were a little less than vampire but still more than human, and hurts healed a little more slowly. He hardly ever flew. He shaved, showered and dressed, then drew up a chair and sat beside her, waiting, remembering. *****************************************flashback May 1996 "I'll live with you Nick, but I won't marry you." "Isn't that supposed to be the guy's line?" He laughed at her frown. "Sorry, sorry, I'm a sexist pig. An *antiquated* sexist pig." That made her smile. "But seriously Nat. If you didn't believe in marriage on principle, I'd understand, and I guess I'd accept it, but...." He propped himself up on one arm (they were lying in front of the fire) and smiled down at her. "I can't carry you off and force you to marry me, but I think I have a right to know, milady, why you refuse my suit." The light tone belied the seriousness in his eyes. "Right. This from Mr. I've Got No Secrets." "Touché. But you have to admit I've improved." And she did have to admit that. At long last, as she had so often wished, Nick had opened up to her. It had been a source of great joy - and some sorrow - to them both. "Okay. But you're not going to like it." "I already don't like it. How much worse can it get?" "You're going to tell me I'm being silly." "You are many, many things, my love, but silly isn't one of them." Natalie sighed, extracted herself from his embrace and sat up, hugging her knees and looking down at her toes, as if expecting some assistance from that direction.. "I don't doubt that you love me, Nick. Not a bit. And I believe in us, and I believe that somewhere out there, there's a cure for you. But.... What happens if we don't find it right away? What if it takes 10 years? or 20? or more? Time will pass for me. But not for you. You're right. I do believe in marriage. I believe in what those promises mean. And I don't want you to wake up one morning, mortal, still young - and bound to a woman old enough to be your mother. Or your grandmother." He didn't tell her she was being silly. There was more to this than vanity. And he really didn't know how to counter it. His first impulse was to shower her with protestations of love - but that wasn't the issue. He wondered if, for the moment, discretion might be the better part of valor. After all, time was on his side. Time would prove that her fears were groundless. But if he did not protest, he might leave her wondering. Better risk her wrath than give her reason to doubt. "Okay. I 'hear' you. But just for the record, Nat, I think you're wrong. Very wrong. I will love you always. If we were both mortal, would you be worrying about this?" She shook her head. "But I won't press the point. For now. 'Come live with me, and be my love, and we will all the pleasures prove.....' " he paused to kiss her. "But I do reserve the right to ask you again." There was a twinkle in her eye as she asked, "Like Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane? On my birthday and for special occasions?" "Exactly." Nat lay back onto the cushions. "Now, where were we?" "We were experimenting. I believe you said something about 'testing my limits.' " "Oh yes, that's right." "Just one question, doctor. What if I don't have any?" "Well, that'll be nice, too......" -------- End Part One of Three -------------------------- eGroups Sponsor -------------------------~-~> Get FREE long-distance phone calls on Tellme! Dial 1-800-555-TELL, say "Phone Booth" http://click.egroups.com/1/9532/12/_/444202/_/971744346/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------_-> --------------------------------------------------------------------- Name: winmail.dat winmail.dat Type: Xlview File (application/ms-tnef) Encoding: base64 Subject: [NNPack] Last Things (02/03) Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2000 20:59:43 -0400 From: "Mary Combs" Reply-To: NNPack@egroups.com To: "Nick&NatPack" , "FKFIC-L" Last Things By Mary Combs Part Two of Three ***** flashback continues Of course, there had been limits. At first, it was as if LaCroix' concession had somehow turned back the clock and given them a fresh start. They recaptured the mood of awed hope they had shared on that Valentine's Day, and, very carefully, they began to explore this new world of possibilities. Any illusions that they might keep the change in their relationship a secret were quickly shattered. It took Don Schanke exactly 72 hours to figure it out, and he confided to Nick that if Myra hadn't been off at a Skin Pretty convention, and therefore unavailable for consultation, he would probably have tumbled to it sooner. So they gave up the pretense and she moved - lock, stock and Sidney - into the loft. After a few weeks, the novelty wore off, as far as the Precinct and the Coroner's Office were concerned, and the teasing subsided. From time to time, Schank launched into a paean to the joys of fatherhood, and Nick endured it with good grace. As all lovers do, they had their difficult times, and they worked through them as best they could. Although he took great joy in giving her pleasure, the vampire's need for blood - and his fear of risking her life - stood in the way of the consummation of their love. Nick would have been willing to wait indefinitely, but Natalie finally convinced him by bringing home enough equipment, plasma and whole blood to equip a small emergency room. And, in fact, the first time had been a very close call. He shuddered at the memory of Nat's face, far too pale against the black silk of the sheets he had wrapped around her, calmly watching as he set up a transfusion. Overwhelmed with guilt and relief, he knelt on the floor beside her, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at her serenity. "Nat, 100 years ago, you would have died. I would have kill....." She put her free hand firmly over his mouth. "Well, maybe that's why we didn't meet 100 years ago," she said matter-of-factly, running her hand through his hair and laying her palm against his cheek. "You make it sound as if we were Fated." "Don't tell me the thought has never crossed your mind." He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. In fact, he had often wondered over the past few years if finding her had been an answer to his deepest prayers. In his darkest moments, after the nightmare of Valentine's Day, an inner voice had nagged him with the possibility that she had been sent to him as a test. That he should meet that test by turning his back on her and the promise of life and warmth that had been in her eyes and her touch from the very beginning. If he left, would he be refusing an act of grace or resisting deadly temptation? 'Damned if you do, damned if you don't.' He had worried at the problem to the point of exhaustion, and had finally given it up as insoluble. There was no answer except..... He had pressed his hand against the lid of the box containing Joan's cross. "Pure, simple faith." Purity and simplicity lay centuries behind him, but faith? Joan saw it in him. So did Natalie. And so he had stayed..... And now he had come within a hair's breadth of taking her life..... " 'You are my destiny..'" he sang softly, mocking his deepest feelings as he watched the color come back to her face. "Who says this is all about you?" She grinned at him. "Maybe you're *my* destiny." "I wish I knew.... Well, I know one thing. I love you." "And I love you." "Yes. Yes, I know." The taste of it in her blood had been everything he had dreamed of, and more. But he refused to try again until she had "fully recovered." Natalie waited patiently for three months, and then shamelessly seduced him, stifling his protests with passionate kisses and the promise that she had stowed enough compatible blood in his refrigerator to revive three grown men. Nick's resistance dissolved in laughter. Her love warmed him to the depths of his soul, and from that night on, he was satisfied with only a little. Two years passed and it became clear that it would soon be time for Nick Knight to move on. -------------------- June 1998 "I'm going to be up for promotion soon, Nat, and that means paperwork. Risky paperwork." Nick said regretfully. "So, where do we go and who are we this time?" "Well, I think you can stay you, unless you have a compelling desire to be someone else. Like *Madame* de Brabant?" he added, hopefully. Nat shook her head and patted the top of his. "Thank you, no. So, I stay Natalie Lambert. With whom shall I be living in sin?" "I'm not sure. Maybe it's time to bring on one of my great-great-great-great-etc. nephews. On the other hand, I may want to save that until you finally agree to be my bride. Sure you won't reconsider?" "Watch it, mister whatever-your-name-is-going-to-be. You promised, no more than one proposal in any 24-hour period, or you pay the consequences." Nick humbly apologized.... and eagerly paid the forfeit. ---------- They planned the transition carefully, with some help from Feliks Twist and Aristotle. Aristotle was skeptical, but intrigued by the challenge. Feliks was honestly bewildered, until Nick resorted to flamboyant metaphor and told him that Natalie was "the rose blooming in the bare ruined choirs of his heart," which apparently appealed to both his Victorian and horticultural sensibilities. Privately, Feliks confessed to his flowers that the dear boy was quite mad not to simply bring the girl across. Two months before their departure (for Vancouver and a second residency for Natalie, with Nick's plans left intentionally vague), he found her curled up in the armchair, Sidney in her lap, weeping. Nick rescued the somewhat damp feline and scooped Nat up, settling back in the chair with her cradled in his arms. She said nothing, and he asked no questions, just holding her and smoothing her hair from time to time. At last she sniffed and raised her head, smiled and gave him a rather damp kiss on the cheek. He kissed her back. "C'mon Sid," she said to the cat. "I owe you some tuna." Sidney ran ahead to the refrigerator, and Nat walked slowly after, dropping a kiss on Nick's head as she went. Nick sighed and smiled wryly at the dragon glaring down from the mantelpiece. 'At least I've learned when to keep my mouth shut,' he said to himself. Not that he deserved all that much credit for being understanding. Schanke, who was more than a little puzzled by Nick's transformation from baffled boyfriend to mind-reading mate, was dying to know his secret. 'She feeds me with her life, her dreams, her hopes, her love. How could I not understand?' "Look at this," the object of his reverie said, dropping a pile of mail on the coffee table. "We have an invitation." "For what?" Nick said, somewhat leery. Neither of them enjoyed large crowds; they had taken great pains to persuade their friends in Toronto that they really, really, really did not want a big farewell. And while Nat had absolute confidence in Myra, Nick had far less in his partner. He had become very suspicious of any event that might somehow be turned into a surprise party. "Don't worry. This is absolutely safe. Don Schanke is not going to be lurking under the table at Harry Richards' 100th birthday party. That house will be filled to overflowing as it is." Nick laughed and reached out for the brightly colored card. "100? That's right, you dragged... ouch! .. took me to his 95th," Nick chuckled, ducking as Natalie took a second swipe at him with her magazine. "Well, if that's the way you feel about it, I'll go stag. Harry has some very attractive grandsons, you know," she said airily. "No, no. I like Harry. I like his family and I like his friends. And I don't like the idea of you flirting with his grandsons. Now, it would be different if we were marr.... ouch. All right, that's enough..." Sidney jumped up on the mantelpiece, for safety's sake and to have a better view of his people chasing each other around the loft, up the stairs and into the bedroom. After a decent interval, he descended and arranged himself comfortably on the sofa. He would have this space to himself for awhile.... ------------------- July 1998 According to family lore on both sides, the friendship between the Richards and the Lamberts dated back to pioneering days. At age 5, little Natalie had been fascinated by Dr. Harry's tales of their ancestors. At age 11, she had begged him to tell her "everything about being a doctor" and - since none of his own large brood seemed inclined to follow in his footsteps - he gladly became her mentor. Lacking aunts, uncles or cousins of their own, she and Richie had found all such needs readily supplied - for better or for worse - by the Richards clan. Clan was right word, Nick thought, as the celebration milled around him, up and down the stairs of the huge old house. He'd given up counting heads or trying to keep track of the relationships. He picked his way carefully through the throng, slowly making headway toward the screen doors that led to the veranda. He slipped out and into a dark corner where he could discreetly take a swallow from the flask in his pocket. The sound of Natalie's voice caught his attention. She was sitting next to Dr. Harry on an old swing at the far end of the porch, reminiscing. Standing in the shadows, not quite ready to return to the merriment inside, Nick tried to picture the little girl she had been, as snatches of their conversation came his way....... "I'm going to miss you when we go." ".....It's always hard to leave, Natalie. But you know, sometimes it's harder to be left behind." "You miss Aunt Jane." "Yes. And the others. Everybody's gone now." Harry chuckled softly. "Oh, this house is full, full to the brim with the people I love. But it isn't the same.... I'll tell you something about getting old, Natalie. You may not understand it now, but it's true...... It isn't arthritis or incontinence or seeing a stranger's face in the mirror.... It isn't any of the body's failures that make you feel really, truly old. It's waking up one morning and realizing that there isn't anyone left who shares your memories. Not a soul...." The screen door slammed open and a stream of small Richards poured out the door and toward their great-great-grandfather, murmuring something about "cake"...... After the party, Nick and Nat drove back to the city in silence. The Caddy's top was down, and the sky above them was full of stars. As they came to a stretch of open fields, she put her hand on his arm. "Nick, can we stop for a bit?' "Sure." He pulled the car onto a side road, turned off the engine and waited patiently, his arm stretched across the seat back, watching her face in the starlight. Nat stared at the shadowy fields. "You were on the porch while I was talking to Dr. Harry." "Yes." "Did you.... did you by any chance hear what we were talking about?" "Yes, Nat, I heard." "It made me realize something." She turned and searched his face. "If I live to be 120, I'll never feel as old as you do every day." It was a statement, not a question. "Not every day, Nat. And never, ever when I'm with you." She slid across the seat to nestle into the crook of his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. They gazed at the stars in silence. A meteor streaked across the sky. "Look, Nick a falling star. There's another.... that's two wishes." "What did you wish for, Nat?" She shook her head. "Mustn't tell." "That's just an old tale." "About wishing on a star?" "No, that telling spoils the magic." "Okay." She took a deep breath and, flushing slightly, lifted her chin and answered him. "I wished that we would die in each other's arms, making mad, passionate love on our 75th wedding anniversary, a scandal to the younger generation and the envy of our own." Nick threw back his head and laughed with delight. "And your second wish?" The blush deepened a little but she went gamely on, pulling his arms closer around her. "Well, if I can't have the first, then my second wish is to die a notorious old woman, in the arms of my beautiful young husband, a scandal to the younger generation and the envy of every woman I know." Nick laughed again, although there were tears in his eyes when he pulled her tight against him and whispered in her ear. "Only God knows if the first wish can come true, but I promise you, Natalie, if we can't have that, I'll do my very best to make sure the second does." He shifted in the seat a bit, so he could look into her eyes. "Natalie Lambert, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?" "Yes." ***********************************(end flashback) End Part Two of Three comments to mcombs@erols.com -------------------------- eGroups Sponsor -------------------------~-~> Get free updates on your stocks from any phone with Tellme! Call 1-800-555-TELL. http://click.egroups.com/1/9535/12/_/444202/_/971744335/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------_-> --------------------------------------------------------------------- Name: winmail.dat winmail.dat Type: Xlview File (application/ms-tnef) Encoding: base64 Subject: [NNPack] Last Things (03/03) Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2000 21:00:11 -0400 From: "Mary Combs" Reply-To: NNPack@egroups.com To: "Nick&NatPack" , "FKFIC-L" Last Things By Mary Combs Part Three of Three 9 o'clock. He reached for the phone and pressed the key labeled "Hospice." It rang twice. "Nancy Melton, please. Nicholas de Brabant calling........ Nancy? It's Nick. She's gone." He listened to the kind, familiar voice speaking the expected words, but he felt oddly detached. "Thank you Nancy.... I'll be waiting." They would be here soon, to take her away. And then LaCroix would come, to take him away. And then...... Nick stood and bent over her, resting his left hand lightly on hers. He barely noticed the contrast between the pale strength of the one and the blue-veined fragility of the other - his attention was focused on the matching gold rings, remembering their wedding day and the promises they had made. The ring would be buried with her. But there was something else he had vowed to keep. Unbuttoning the collar of her nightgown, he ran his fingers along the fine chain around her neck and unfastened it, gently freeing the little silver cross he had given her on their 25th anniversary. He sat down again in the chair by the bed, closing his hand over the little talisman. It warmed in his palm, but didn't burn. The sensation was almost comforting. He picked up her hand and held it against the side of his face as he had all those years ago in the morgue. He would have wept, but his tears had all been shed. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Oh God, I'm so tired." He put his head down on her breast, and slept. ----------------------------------------------------------- Portland Morgue. 11 a.m. "Hey chief, remind me not to complain about a slow day." "Why not, Charlie?" "Because now we've got a two-fer." David Andreson looked up from his computer with a quick frown. "Not a homicide?" "No, no. Maybe suicide, though." His assistant frowned at his palmcorder. "It's a couple. Wife had cancer. Don't see much of that anymore..... Says here she was 85. Must've been too old for the Lambert vaccine. Anyway, the husband called the Hospice after she died this morning. When they got there, he was sitting beside her - stone cold." "It wouldn't be the first time. One partner dies and the other just can't take the loss. But it doesn't usually happen so quickly." "Yeah, well this guy looks more like her son than her husband." "What?" "I said, he looks more like her son than her husband. Says here he's supposed to be 47. Same age as you, Doc." Charlie gave the corpse a skeptical look. "I'd guess 10 years younger than that. At least. In fact, if this guy weren't dead, I'd say he looked fantastic. Hey, what's wrong?" He watched as Dr. Dave slowly walked to the second gurney and unveiled its occupant. "Natalie....." Charlie had the good grace to look horrified. "You know them? Gosh, I'm sorry Doc..." "Yeah, I know them. I've known them for 10 years. And as for the Lambert vaccine.... She created it." He moved to the next table and looked down at Nick's serene face. "They were devoted to each other. Take my word for it. And he didn't take his own life." "You planning on putting 'broken heart' as the cause of death?" Dr. Dave shot him a look and Charlie shut up and went to file the reports on the lab computer. "I wouldn't be surprised if it were...." Andreson bent over the body of his friend. "You never did give me that barbecue recipe, Nick," he said, sadly. "Charlie," he called over his shoulder, "Let's go get a cup of coffee before we start this. I'm 'buying.' Oh, and open the blinds on your way out, okay?" "Yeah, sure, Doc. Y'know, I still can't get used to this place having windows. I thought there was a law somewhere that M.E.s had to work in subbasements...." Their voices faded away down the hall. The morgue was silent. Outside, a sudden break in the overcast sent a shaft of sunlight across the room..... ----------------------------- "I don't believe it, Doc." "You're seeing it, aren't you?" "But it's impossible." Andreson continued to stare at the table. "But it's there." "There wasn't a mark on the guy. Nothing. Not a bruise. Not a papercut. Not a pin prick. We checked him out front and back. Everything perfect, all the way through - until you got to this." Charlie shook his head. "Hell, it looks as if his heart exploded - or someone shoved a baseball bat through it." "That's how it looks, all right." "Some kind of aneurysm, maybe?" "Maybe......." _________________________________ Epilogue Natalie paced back and forth beneath the cherry tree, fidgeting with the ring on her finger. She paused occasionally to reach up through the blossoms and give Sidney a comforting scritch. Comforting for her, that is. Sidney was stretched out on a branch looking like an archetype of patience, while she was bursting with excitement. She smoothed the folds of the long white linen gown - it was very much like the dress she had worn on her wedding day - and stepped out from the shade of the tree into early morning sunshine. The tree stood alone on a steep grassy slope, the hillside stretching up behind them to blue sky and falling away below to a landscape of wild meadows and woods. Far away in the distance, beyond the woods and hills and winding river, a range of mountains gleamed. The mountains were calling to her - or rather, something in them or behind them was calling. It was insistent and loving and ceaseless. It was like music or a fragrance or a voice - and like none of these - but the pull was so strong that she imagined that if she let herself give into it, she would run all the way to its source. "Please, not yet, not yet," she whispered. A gust of wind swept through the tree, scattering petals and blowing her hair into her face. Laughing, she pulled the mass of brown curls together and knotted them into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She felt the vibration before she heard the hoofbeats - a powerful, steady canter. Over the crest of the ridge they came. The horse was a black stallion, his head tossing freely, with no bridle to hamper him. Despite their speed, the rider sat easily astride the bare back, the sunlight on his hair flashing gold against the deep blue of the cape streaming behind him. A huge black dog ran alongside, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth in a canine grin. Before she could call his name, they wheeled toward her, and before she could take a step he had dismounted and she was swept up in his arms in a flurry of blue and gold. He smelled of sunwarmed wool and leather and freshly ironed linen and that indefinable something that was Nick. He crushed her against him in an embrace that would have fractured her ribs in another world, and his cheek and lips were warm against hers as he showered her face and neck with kisses. "Oh my love." Their lips met, and somewhere in the depths of the kiss, their souls touched in a flash of fire and truth against which all other joinings, mortal or vampire, paled. At last they stepped back at arm's length and admired each other. Then they burst out laughing. "Here," Nick said, reaching back to unclasp the chain around his neck. "I have something for you." He held it up for her to see, the silver cross glinting in the sunlight. She smiled and gathered up her hair - which Nick had tumbled loose - so he could fasten it where it belonged. They gazed into each other's eyes for uncounted minutes, until a bark drew their attention back to the other three members of the party. The animals were watching them with what appeared to be tolerant amusement, the dog and cat lying companionably side-by-side in the grass. Nick bowed gracefully, offered her his arm and led her to the stallion. "Natalie, this is Fidèle." The horse whickered softly in greeting, and for a moment she thought that she caught a trace of meaning - as if she had just begun to learn some new language. "And you must be Raleigh." She held out her hand to the great hound and was rewarded with a low "woof" and an affectionate lick. Nick lifted her effortlessly onto the broad ebony back. "Sid, I think you'd better ride, too," he said, scooping up the cat and giving him a friendly scritch under the chin before handing him up to Nat. She bunched up her skirt a bit, and Sidney settled down coolly in the makeshift nest as if he had spent all his nine lives on horseback. Nick climbed up behind her, circling her waist with his left arm. She leaned back against him and laid her left hand on top of his, resting her other hand on Sidney's warm fur. He bent his head and kissed her temple. "Where to, milady?" She looked at the mountains, her eyes bright. "Home, darling. Home." Raleigh barked eagerly, Fidèle whinnied in agreement, and they started down the steep, grassy slope at a trot that became a canter that became a gallop, faster and faster and faster, until they were flying..... Finis comments to mcombs@erols.com -------------------------- eGroups Sponsor -------------------------~-~> Get free updates on your stocks from any phone with Tellme! Click here and you can even personalize these quotes. http://click.egroups.com/1/9536/12/_/444202/_/971744359/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------_-> --------------------------------------------------------------------- Name: winmail.dat winmail.dat Type: Xlview File (application/ms-tnef) Encoding: base64