***Thursday, November 2, 1995***

TOUCHDOWN IN TORONTO
by Laura B. Waskey

Time: Midnight
Place: Toronto

As the pilot of the Air Canada flight announced that they would be landing
in Toronto in ten minutes, Cousin Laura breathed a sigh of relief. She was
late, late for a VERY important date. It had been almost twenty-four hours
since Uncle had called her at her home in Baltimore and told her to be on
the next plane to Toronto. Uncle would not be pleased that she was late,
there was *no* excuse in his mind for disobeying his orders! Oh, how she
dreaded that confrontation.  She would be lucky if LaCroix didn't kill her
before she had a chance to explain! 
    
Yet, how could she explain that the reason why she had not arrived in
Toronto ASAP was: car problems. Yes, it seems some creative
Natpackers(although she was just guessing it was Natpackers, but who else
would do this?) had decided to fill her car with Q-tips! Q-tips had been
everywhere, in her gas tank, in the radiator and at least 10,000 white,
fluffy swabs had been crammed into the inside of her blue Chevy Corsica. 
Since she lived in a rural area, she figured that the perpatrators of the
heinous act had seen her "Nightcrawler" bumper stickers and had followed
her home from that Halloween bash in Fell's Point. Then,as she lay in her
bed in a drunken stupor, the vandals had trashed and immobilized her car!!
Only later when she had received the phone call from LaCroix and had
rushed out to her car to drive to the airport had she realized that she
wouldn't be going anywhere for awhile. 
    
Only after waiting 4 hours for AAA to arrive and tow her to a nearby gas
station, did Laura know that she would not arrive in Toronto in time for
the Pow-wow of Cousins decending on the Raven. She just hoped Uncle did
not notice her absence... 
    
From that point on, getting to the airport was an ordeal. At the gas
station she had called Hertz to rent a car, however due to weather
problems, they couldn't get her a car for another 5 hours. So, like the
true, dedicated Cousin she was, she had hitchhiked to the airport.  Only
her "savior", the man who had picked her up on the side of the road and
promised to drive her right to BWI, was actually more like Charles Manson
Jr.  After bailing out of the car,in fear of her life. Laura had been
resigned to walk the last 30 miles to the airport.  Where of course,
because of weather, her flight to Toronto had been delayed. So, she hadn't
gotten off the ground until 11:00 p.m. November 1,1995, Gosh, what a
shi**y day! 
     
Pulling herself out of that flashback, Laura remembered what LaCroix had
told her about the mission she was on.  She was to catch two troublemaking
Natpackers that Uncle had seen in the Raven on Halloween night. This was
right before all hell had broken loose, of course. Coincidence? Uncle
didn't think so,not where these two Natpackers were concerned and Laura
knew that from past dealing with Leslie Remencus and Jill Kirby that they
weren't as innocent as looked.  LaCroix had recognized the two from
Crescent City Con and when they had come into the Raven, well, he was
suspicious. 
   
Apparently, both had been at CCC to meet Uncle this past summer. They had
probably been plotting since then to harm LaCroix's reputation. So, when
Uncle had seen them running out of the Raven as his sprinkler system went
off and the stereo system started spitting out show tunes, he had known
that somehow those two had been involved! 

As the plane taxied toward the terminal, Cousin Laura quickly started
planning her strategy.  Uncle wanted Leslie and Jill brought to the Raven
for "questioning" about the sprinkler incident. And as a former police
officer, she knew how to track down dangerous criminals, so two Natpackers
shouldn't be hard to stuff and cuff, she thought. 
        
As soon as she got to the Raven and had begged for forgiveness to Uncle
about her tardyness, she would call a couple of Toronto cops she knew from
her old days on the force. That way she could get them to check the NCIC
computer to see if the two Natpackers had rap sheets and she could get
their driver's licenses and registrations for their vechiles; which would
make trailing them so much easier. Plus, she would call her friend, Linda
at Border Patrol and see if the two had crossesd the border lately. Ah,
the thrill of the chase. Laura loved that part of her job. She was like a
bloodhound once she got someone's scent and she wouldn't stop until Leslie
and Jill were caught and brought quiverring before Uncle.  Yes, Uncle was
right, hunting humans was fun! 
    
Yep, she could practically guarantee that Leslie and Jill would be in
Uncle's "loving" arms by sunset this evening. He would be so pleased, and
maybe that way she could worm her way out of her punishment for being
arriving so late. 
     
Yes, soon she would have the two in her sights, all she had to do now was
wait for the plane to deboard and then it was off to hunt for her prey in
the wilds of Toronto. 

###

A LURKER DELURKS (Part 3)
by Lyn Cannaday

Time: 1am EST
Place: Toronto

Lyn sat on her bed staring at the TV screen.  Her book lay beside her,
forgotten on the bed.  Somehow, The History of Disease was just not
catching her attention tonight.  The television was even worse.  Lyn had
never liked television much, but now that it was one in the morning, she
was horrified at the crap that was on.  Her fingers itched for a computer,
but the University budget definitely did *not* include a laptop.  Getting
out of bed, Lyn considered going out.  The thought of all of the factions
that she had not yet attacked made her heart beat faster with
anticipation.  Throwing on a sleeveless waistcoat dress, Lyn decided to
look around and see what was going on.  She could look around at the Raven
and see what was going on. 

The doorman gave Lyn a strange look as she left the building at 1 o'clock
in the morning and she gave him a smile and mumbled something about a
chocolate attack.  With a small laugh, the doorman held the door as Lyn
wandered out into a city crawling with vampires, vampire allies and
demented fans.  As soon as the rented Lincoln reached speed on the
deserted road, Lyn felt more at ease.  Within a few minutes she reached
the bar and parked her car along the road.  A strange sense of
disconnectedness descended as she approached the door to the bar for a
second time.  She had no doubt that the Mormons were gone by now, but if
one of the Cousins recognized her from the Bible and cross incident, she
would be in real trouble.  With a rush of adrenaline, Lyn pushed open the
door. 

Huh? ...Was there a time warp?

The cute waiter wearing a bow-tie and little else was gone, as were most
of the servers.  The bar was considerably less crowded.  Looking around,
Lyn recognized the characteristic clothing of the Ravenettes.  Was Janette
back?  Lyn realized that without knowing what was going on, she had no way
of talking her way out of a mess.  With trepidation, she backed toward the
door.  She didn't know whether her Mormon attack had impacted the Cousins
or the Ravenettes.  Oh dear. 

Lyn had just reached the street and started breathing when she saw a car
pull up behind her. 

"I am just a customer... I am just a customer...I don't know nuttin' about
no stinking vampires" she chanted.  As the car doors opened, Lyn realized
that the two occupants could be no one but Nick and Tracy.  The
descriptions were just to perfect.  She was starting to think that they
all knew about her.  Her purse hanging limply from her hand, Lyn tried to
decide whether or not to make for her car.  Just then, the decision was
taken out of her hands, along with her bag. 

"Stop!" Lyn screamed at the purse snatcher, and gathering up the long
skirt, she ran down the street after him.  Track had never been Lyn's
sport, and Lyn beginning to have visions of the thief with all her money
and her car keys getting away when the thief turned a corner.  Trying to
increase speed without having lung failure, Lyn raced around the corner
only to collide with Nick who was holding the thief.  Lyn was startled by
how firmly Nick held his ground considering her speed when she hit him. As
she staggered back, stunned by the impact, Nick reached out with one hand
to steady her while he held the thief in the other hand. 

"Are you all right?" he asked with real concern.  Just then, Lyn heard
Tracy running up from behind. 

"Did you get him?" She asked despite the fact Nick was holding the thief
who was already handcuffed. 

"Yeah, he dropped the purse back there." Nick motioned toward the alley.
As Tracy went to retrieve the purse, Nick continued to talk to Lyn.
"You'll need to come down and make a statement and then we can return your
purse to you," he said. 

Lyn smiled.  She had plans for Nick and Tracy, but this opportunity had
fallen in her lap.  She couldn't possibly pass this up. 

"No problem, officer.  I would be more than happy to go to the station
with you." 

###

LIFE'S A BEACH
[Or whatever you wanna re-name it]
by Amy Hull and the NatPack

Time: 2am EST

Tara got home from work, dropped her stuff by the door, and headed for Blue

Max, the faster and better replacement for poor Bollux, who had been fried
by a lightning bolt a year and a half before.  She began to access her
email, having decided to read mail for a break and then do homework.  It
was only a moment before she began to curse in Japanese.  *At least no one
can say anime isn't educational* she thought grumblingly, surveying the
settings on the computer and the layout of her desk.  Her sister had used
the computer lately, and had turned things off incorrectly as well as
shifting the location of the items on the desk. 

Tara was about to yell for her sister to explain again how *her* computer
should be left when the mail came up on the screen and the subject line of
a message from one of the lists she owned caught her attention: 

Due South merge with Baywatch a go!

Leaving private mail for later, she opened the message and read the brief
explanation, which included a Web address offering further information.
Moments later, a Web page was displayed on her screen, proudly emblazoned
with a synopsis of the revised series and new publicity photos.  Tara
shuddered at the still of Frasier and Diefenbaker, against a bright blue
sky on a white, sandy beach, facing the camera seriously while Ray smiled
approvingly at a nearby, scantily-clad woman.  Then she turned to the
text: 

"_Due South_ has been retooled to appeal to a broader audience.  Its move
from a Chicago setting to one in Palm Springs will draw viewers from both
FL and CA, as the state is unspecified.  There is also an increased
emphasis on the beautiful extras, who will wear fashionable swimwear.  The
important elements of the show remain intact:  Fraser continues to proudly
wear his Mountie uniform and to fight for the underdog and rescue those
others would choose to give up on.  See the attached mini-movie for
footage." 

Not sure she wanted to see this, but needing all the information she could
get before dealing with the problem, Tara clicked on the movie.  A person
was clearly drowning in the choppy ocean, a little farther from shore then
they should have been.  A red shape splashed into the waves and a
broad-brimmed hat appeared above them, moving surely toward the faltering
form.  Grabbing the person in appropriate lifeguard fashion, Fraser, hat
still in place, pulled the woman to shore.  When they emerged from the
water, she coughed, then smiled up at Fraser and kissed him. 

Tara stared at the frozen image, in shock for a moment.  Then several
curses she had learned from Monica, ranging from Welsh to Czech, erupted
and she exited the Web and opened MS Word.  She searched her directories
for her address book, but it didn't turn up. 

"Fine," she muttered, diving for the pile that housed her hard copy of her
addresses and phone numbers.

Two hours later, the apartment was in a shambles, and the address book was
nowhere to be found.

The only thing she did find was another pack of candy cigarettes where she
thought she had seen the address book last. 

###

SHOESTRING BUDGETS AND LOTTERY TICKETS
Or: One Cousin's Luck
by J. Michele Freemon

Time: Wee hours
Place: Michele's home

It was the day after Samhain.  Michele sighed softly and waved one last
time as the little grey hatchback clanked its way out of her parking lot,
bearing her honey on his slow way back to Dallas. Gathering up her
assorted junk, she rushed out of the small apartment, calling a quick
goodbye to the two bored cats and miraculously making it to Gallup only
fifteen minutes late. 

Six hours and nineteen CNN polls later, she filled in the totals on her
timesheet and grinned.  'Two more days like this and the next paycheck
will cover a shopping spree at BookWoman!' she thought optimistically. 
Glancing around at the rows of empty carrels, she shook her head.  'Last
one out again...  You'd think someplace open from two to midnight would
employ more night people.'

Home once again, she balanced the twelve pack of Diet Pepsi on one hip to
unlock the door, one foot braced to stop any escape attempts.  "Uh uh,
Tiger!  One four day odyssey is enough for any de-clawed cat... not to
mention the strain on my poor nerves," she admonished, closing the door
firmly behind her. 

Dumping this and that here and there, she pulled out the pitiful remains
of her last paycheck and surveyed it with a grimace.  'If I can just hold
on 'til the next paycheck.  Things'll be better after the next paycheck.'
she consoled herself.  'Yeah, right, that's what you've said for the last
five paychecks now,' the more pragmatic part of her mind muttered. 

Another fifteen minutes and Michele was firmly ensconsed in front of the
glowing green screen, cigarette lit and Diet Pepsi close at hand.  "I love
that man, but two days with no computer time was about to drive me nuts!"
she remarked to no one, a grin on her face. "Ah, well, I'll make up for it
tonight.  Quick check of the email and it's MUSH, MUSH, MUSH, all night
long!" 

Starting up pine, she tabbed to the fkfic folder and eeped. "125
messages?!  What the...  Oh, no!!" came the involuntary exclamations as
her eyes lit on the WAR: prefixing all but a very few posts.  She dropped
her head onto the keyboard, ignoring the angry beeping this provoked. 
"Not a war!" she moaned, "I can't afford a war right now!" 

Lifting her head with a determined look, she straightened out the mess her
outburst had created and started reading.  "If Uncle wants me in on this
one, he'll just have to pay my bills," she muttered, not -too- loudly.  "I
guess this explains the cotton and that odd picture," came the
afterthought. 

Five hours and several evil tricks later, she'd changed her mind.  Peeling
herself out of the chair, she scooped the decidedly un-thick sheaf of
bills from the wicker basket on the microwave and counted them again. 
'Twenty bucks.  That's all I can risk,' she thought firmly.  Locking the
door behind her, she trudged across the street to the Kwik Mart and stood
in line behind the early morning commuters, the overpowering smell of
coffee turning her stomach. 

"I'll take three each of the dollar tickets and one two dollar one," she
told Ahmed, who blinked in surprise, then shrugged stoically and started
tearing off lottery tickets.  "Oh, and a box of Marlboro Lights 100s," she
added, digging for her laudry money. 'One of the other cousins can surely
find me a washing machine,' she told herself, handing over a twenty and
two dollars in quarters. 

Not bothering to wait until she was back in her efficiency, she stopped at
the convenient surface of the pay phones and started scratching.  Ticket
after ticket yielded nothing and she was beginning to despair when she
uncovered one, two, three little squares bearing the logo '$1000' in small
black print.  Unmindful of the tender ears of the early risers around her,
she screamed in glee and started bouncing up and down. 

Her cries of "I'm going to war!  I'm going to war!  I'm going to war!" did
not exactly match the broad grin on her face, but most of the passersby
just shrugged. 

"Yet another Austin nutcase," one of the suited men muttered.

###

THE RAVENETTE'S RETORT
by Felicia Bollin

Time: 4am EST
Place: En route to Toronto

Thank goodness for AOL.  I knew I griped about it a lot, but it was really
handy, being able to choose to hold your outgoing mail until the ingoing
mail came in.  "Oh, Jamie, you naughty little Cousin, you...."  Leave it
to *Tracy* to fall for a story like that.  Ohhhh, Janette would not be
pleased...the only time Nick ever coaxed her into a bikini, and Jamie had
taken away the proof of that moment in one fell swoop. 

But I knew exactly, exactly what to do.

The problem was;  it was mean, and it was easy.  And Janette wasn't the
mean and easy type. 

But then again, I wasn't Janette.

What the hey, I reopened Catherine's letter.  Thank goodness she planned
to be at the precinct, our proscribed meeting place, bright and early. 

Why, I mused innocently, wouldn't it be a surprise when Nick (not to
mention, Tracy and Reese, since of course all the division computers were
networked) went to boot up his police computer, to find it now covered
from head to foot in little tiny .gifs of Nick and Janette in cozy/sultry
positions?  He would be so pleased--though Nat would NOT. 

###

HOW MANY TUNAS ON THAT CD? (b)
by Susan Garrett

Time: Early morning
Place: Toronto, Nat's apartment

The banging on the door hadn't gone away.  Jill raised her head
sleepily--the Nat-Pack were stirring.  Amy's hand was fluttering away and
Jill was just as happy she didn't readily recognize what Amy might be
signing.  Mary G.T. had managed a single snore and then lay still--they'd
checked for a pulse every now and again, just to make certain she was
still with them.  Leslie's head popped out of a sleeping bag and she sat
up, rubbing her eyes and Jennie groaned from the other couch. 

"Guess it's up to me," sighed Jill, after seeing only the briefest signs
of life from Amparo.  Peeling herself from the futon, she grabbed a
blanket as she passed and threw it around her.  Her hand reached for the
chain on the door--

And then she stopped, cold.  Nat was still at work.  What if it was Nick?
What if it was another vampire . . . like LaCroix?  With so many
Nat-Packers being ex-Cousins, it wasn't out of the realms of possibility
for LaCroix to come 'collecting.'

Then again, LaCroix or another vampire probably wouldn't bother knocking
. . . .

"Who is it?" she asked grouchily, as the pounding started again.

"Delivery for Nat-Pack Central," said an unfamiliar voice.

"Yeah.  Why don't you just say 'candygram'?" countered Jill.*

By now the Natpack had begun to regain consciousness . . . or some form
thereof.  When Jill looked over her shoulder, she met Leslie's gaze. 
"What do you think?  How would somebody know we were here?" 

"Process of elimination," said Amparo.  "It's only logical.  We'd be where
Nat is." 

"Could be from one of us--like Selma," Leslie offered.  She slid out of
the sleeping bag and knelt on it.  "Can we afford not to open it?" 

The knocking started again.

"For God's sake, somebody stop that bloody noise!" declared G.T., who
promptly turned over, let out a slight snore, then fell into
unconsciousness again. 

"Oh, let's open it," said Amy.  "It <could> be something nice."

"Yeah.  Right."  Jill picked up a light wooden chair by the door.  "I'll
hang back here, so I can bash him if he tries anything." 

Shaking her head, Amy pushed her hair to either side of her face, walked
to the door, and opened it a crack.  "Yes?" 

"Delivery."  A largish hand turned a clipboard sideways and thrust it
through the door.  "Just sign here, lady." 

"Lady?"  Amy giggled as she took the clipboard.  "He called me 'lady.'
Isn't that <cool>?" 

Leslie was at the door, as was Amparo.  (Jennie was still checking on
GT--sometimes it took a while to find a pulse, especially after drinking
25 year old scotch, which Nat seemed to like almost as much as GT.) Leslie
peered over Amy's shoulder.  "Is that really . . . McDonalds?" 

"McDonalds?"  Amparo frowned.  "Well, it looks like it.  One hundred
cartons of--wait a minute, it's smudged." 

"It's food," corrected Jill, still holding the chair aloft and feeling
more than slightly grumpy because of it.  Sometimes Nat-Packers just had
no sense of self-preservation!  "Maybe the FoD's sent it.  They usually
cater wars." 

"They'd send us something better than McDonalds," Leslie countered. 
"FoD's have standards." 

There was another series of loud knocks at the door, followed by a
bellowing voice, "Lady, just give me the clipboard, okay?  Me and the
boys've got ten more trips this morning.  You don't want to see the
Toronto P.D. go to work without their egg McMuffins, do you?" 

There was a 'yipe' from the couch.  Jennie was sitting on the floor, GT's
arm around her neck, pinning her.  "Yep," she declared, voice hoarse,
"she's still alive." 

"Don't forget, we'll have to feed Sharon when she gets back," warned
Amparo. 

Jill grinned.  "Jail food being what it is, she'd go through at least
forty cases of anything in no time." 

"One minute," Amy called.  She carefully placed her signature at the
bottom of the clipboard, closed the door, then pulled back the chain. 

The Natpack breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw four
deliverymen with handcarts of boxes standing in the doorway.  "Thanks,
lady," said the delivery man, as he took back the clipboard.  He tucked
the pen in his top pocket, dropped the clipboard on the pile of cartons,
then wheeled the cases into the hall, forcing the Nat-Packers back. 
"Where do you want it?" 

"The dining room?" suggested Amparo, stepping aside as the parade of
dollies moved past her. 

The men worked quickly, dumping their load, then heading out for the next
batch.  "We'll have to make a few trips," called the delivery man over his
shoulder. 

After freeing Jennie from G.T.'s somnambulant grip (actually, Jill helped,
once she put down the chair), Leslie peered at the writing on one side of
the box.  "I think it says 'fish sandwiches.'" 

Amy wrinkled her nose.  "Ick.  You know, you go into McDonalds every five
years and get one of those things, because you can't remember why you
don't like them.  Then, as soon as you taste it, it's even worse than you
remember." 

"Uh, oh," noted Jill.  "It says 'frozen' fish sandwiches."

The Nat-Packers stared at one another in horror.  "But they can't <all> be
fish sandwiches," groaned Amy. 

The deliverymen had just arrived and were unloading more boxes around the
conscious and semi-conscious Natpackers. 

"Are they <all> fish sandwiches?" asked Leslie.

The deliveryman just stared at her.  "Yeah.  One hundred cartons of frozen
fish sandwiches.  Jeez, don't you people read what you sign?" 

Amy grabbed his sleeve and was dragged after him as he headed for the
door. "No!  You have to take them back.  We don't have any freezers that
big!" 

The deliveryman stopped and the other deliverymen pried Amy from his
sleeve. "Sorry, lady--you signed for them, they're yours now.  We got
fifty more cases to bring up, then it's your problem." 

"What are we going to do with fifty cases of frozen McDonald's fish
sandwiches?" asked Leslie, horrified. 

Jill shrugged as she pried open one of the cases, just to check the
contents.  "Warm up the oven and have a fish bake?" 

"Too bad Sydney's with Selma," said Amparo sadly.  "Although he probably
would have gotten sick from overeating." 

"All you need is one of these to get sick," corrected Amy.  She held her
fingers over her nose.  "Amb I crabzy or are dese startding to smellb?" 

Jennie grabbed the top box, steadying it when the stack nearly toppled and
fell on Jill.  "Wait a minute--they're whitefish, aren't they?  And tuna's
a white fish, isn't it?  You don't suppose we could use these in
case--?"**

The delivery men were back, trundling down the hallway with the next load
of boxes.  From the doorway they heard Nat's voice saying, "What in the
world is going on?" 

G.T. let out a snore, turned over, and fell to the floor with a thump.
Leslie moved back in surprise and the boxes began to fall like dominos,
sending Natpackers and frozen fish sandwiches scattering around the room,
just as natalie walked in. 

"Hello," said GT brightly, sitting up and bushing her red hair from her
face with one hand.  "Have I missed anything?" 

*     Old 'Saturday Night Live' joke from back when it was funny.
**   Obligatory tuna war joke.  Watch the Friday the 13th bloopers.

###

*WHO* HAS THEM?
by Perri Smith w/ input

Time: Early morning
Place: Nick's loft

All in all, this was more of a night then Nick had bargained for.

"Amy, stop yelling," he ordered absently, as the curses invaded his
thought processes again. "Now, when was the last time you saw the ladies?" 

"Last night," Catherine answered. "Before we went out to, um..."

"Break and enter The Raven and CERK" Nick finished for her. "And we'll
talk about that later." 

"But Nick, they attacked first!" Perri defended the others. "Fair's fair!
We only retaliated!" 

"You don't even know for sure who did it," Nick snapped. "You immediately
pinned it on the cousins." 

Fifteen baleful glances landed on him. "All right, they're the most likely
suspects," he conceded. "For the bricks, anyway." 

"And for this," Marina said definitely. "The Ravenettes are too smart to
go sending out ransom demands with a Ravens on them. It *has* to be the
cousins!" 

"She's right," Perri pointed out. "Kidnapping lacks class - only Mercs or
Cousins would pull this. And then there's what they did to your computer!" 

"All right, I'll accept that it's probably one or more cousins," Nick
conceded again. "Right now, the important thing is to find them." He shok
his head. "I should never have brought all of you up here to begin with." 

A round of raspberries followed that remark. "Kind of hard to keep us away
after they bricked Scottie in," Amy Potter said from the corner. "And, to
quote Natalie, We knew the risks when we signed on." 

Nick sighed. "I'm going to put an APB out for the ladies. Maybe someone
saw them get taken." 

He went to use the phone. Perri had another idea. "Maybe there's another
way we can do this. Between the Vaqueros, the NatPack, the N&NPack and the
FoDs, we must have enough people here to cover a small city. Let's see if
anyone's heard anything." 

"That was the point of the alliance," Amy commented.

Nick looked up from the phone. "Guys, you know the descriptions better
than I do. Give them to me." then, to whoever was on the phone, "What do
you mean, wanted for what? They're wanted because I need them and can't
find them!" 

After ten minutes of relaying descriptions - "Well, Scottie's kind of
short." "No she's not, she's my height." "*You're* kind of short" - the
APB finally got out to an amused dispatcher. Nick hung up and started to
go back to the group. The phone rang again before he got more than a few
feet. 

"Yeah, Nick Knight. Perri? It's for you?"

Perri raised an eyebrow, then answered the phone. "Torrey? You must be
psychic I was just going to call you. We've got thre Knighties kidnapped
and..." 

"I know," Torrey interuppted. "I don't have much time we're, ah, kind of
in the middle of something. But we - Vachon and the Vaqueros - just ran
into Christy, the RatPacker who heard from Screed and, well, Screed has
your people." 

Perri stopped lounging against the table. "What? Where?"

"His usual hang-out, under the sewers. I don't think he's too keen on
having them there - apparently, Scottie's having some kind of nicfit and
hollering out threats for cigarettes. Marcia keeps yelling about the rats,
and they're all driving Screed up the wall. He wants them out, but a
Cousin threatened him with LaCroix's wrath if he let them go." 

"Sounds like a rescue is in order," Perri said, thinking furiously. "We're
on our way. Thanks, Torrey, we owe you." 

"I know. I'll remember."

On that note, she hung up, and Perri spun to face the Knighties. "we found
them." 

"Where?" Nick asked.

"Screed."

"I'll kill him," Nick growled.

Perri stopped him before he made it more than a few steps towards the
window. "Wait! He's doing it under protest - it *was* the Cousins. They
threatened to sic LaCroix on him." 

Nick stopped. "Then what do you suggest we do? Let him have them for
lunch." 

"Yeah, right," AmyD said. "No, all we need is a Plan."

"Like?" at least three people asked.

"Like..." Amy laid it out.

###

TROUBLE COMES TO PARADISE...
by John Ewan

Time: Early morning
Place: Key West

***Notice:  The material included in the flashback is purely to satisfy
contractual obligations to the USA Network and not to satisfy any prurient
interest on my part.***

John strolled into his cubicle at work, early one morning, as usual.
"Another fine day in Key West!" he thought.  He got himself a cup of tea,
as usual, and sat down in front of his computer to read e-mail, as usual. 
He flipped his ponytail over the back of the chair as he leaned back, his
eyes scanning the list of messages. 

"Toronto Department of Streets?  Why would they be sending me email?",
John muttered, as he clicked open the message, "Wha-?  Must be garbled... 
Geez, is that supposed to be a word?  No, it's signed 'Screed'. 
Screed...." 

The scene fades from the brightly lit office to a small, crowded showroom
in Las Vegas.  Since only couples get the seats at the tables down in
front of the stage, John is sitting in the chairs on the risers at the
back of the room.  The room is very crowded with people from the COMDEX
convention. John sips his martini from the plastic cup and awaits the
start of the "Crazy Girls" revue.  He is really looking forward to this
show since he had recently met one of the performers.  One of the
spokesmodels for the convention booth he is working at is performing in
this topless revue.  A skinny bald-headed guy sits down next to him and
with an enthusiatic, leering smile blathers in overdrive for a full
minute.  "What the hell did he say?" John thought, plastering an insipid
grin on his face, "I wish I had a rewind button or subtitles, maybe then I
could understand this dude." Happily, the show begins before John has to
attempt any kind of reply. Seven gorgeous women dance onto the stage,
dressed in brilliant, though scanty costumes.  "Great, how am I gonna
recognize her!"  John thought, "Their faces are covered by masks and what
I *can* see was mostly covered up today.  Hmmm, good show, so far....." 

John comes out of his reverie; someone else is in the office, checking the
answering machine.  Slowly deciphering the email, John chuckles and shakes
his head, "Come to Toronto!?!  I don't think so!  It gets below '70
degrees in Toronto!"  John ponders, "I don't know if I even own a pair of
long pants anymore.  Nah, getting off from work would be tough enough, but
trying to convince Kathy that she should stay home with Katie while I hie
off to Canada to see Screed.  She never liked the way he eyed Bingo and
Jinx, but, hey, any cats that can wear out a scorpion that invades our
place can handle Screed!  But, I can understand why she moved Scrapper
into our bedroom; he may be the toughest little hamster going, no need to
take chances." 

John smiled as he read down the list of messages.  "It had been a fun week
in Las Vegas; the Multi-Player Games Network booth was flashy without
going overboard.  The spokesmodels liked working for us; demonstrating
online games was a cool job, we even trained them before-hand instead of
expecting them to just 'smile and point' and they got to wear sneakers
instead of heels all day!" 

John types, and begins to surf the 'net.  "It's not like I owe him." he
thought.  "Neither of us could gamble worth a damn, but, he did help me
get back out of the hole at the table that time.  I more than made up for
it *that* weekend...." 

The small group huddled backstage, whispering.  John looks the statuesque
blonde in the eye and plaintively said, "I'm sorry!  I thought it would be
cool to get backstage at the 'Sigfried and Roy Show'!  You agreed to let
Screed come along, since he was just as leering a fan of yours as I am!"
The woman crosses her arms and begins tapping her foot while she gives
John *that* look.  A thought flashes across his mind, "My wife and
daughter look at me that way!  Yeesh!"  John glances around, "Look; we
can't be certain Screed had anything to do with the white Bengals being
all sleepy or sick. We can't find him, I doubt anyone else will.  Let's
just get out of here." 

A horrendous scream rips the silence!  John jumps, tea splashing.  "When
is someone gonna take that Hallowe'en 'Welcome Mat' home?" He yells.  He
stands up to dry himself off and sees that the woman in Billing is taking
down the decorations. 

###

SIGHTSEEING (a)
by Jennifer Mingee and Dawn Steele

Time: Shortly after dawn
Place: Die Hard Headquarters

Jennifer awoke to Tasha's customary morning whimper for food.  "Okay,
Tasha, I'm up, I'm up.  I *know* you have to be fed at dawn or else you
wither to dust."  Moving quietly so as not to disturb the others sleeping
around her, she dressed after feeding her trusty hound and prepared to
take the dog for a short walk to "take care of business." 

Grabbing her coat and her security card on the way out the door, Jennifer
hummed to herself.  She was actually *here* in Toronto!  She didn't think
she'd ever want to come this far north.  After stepping outside into the
brisk morning air, she wondered just *why* it was she decided she had to
come in the first place.  //Lordy, it's cold out here!// she thought to
herself.  After all, in Texas, water freezes at 70 degrees.  //It's just
too cold up here.  This is not a place where humans were meant to live.//
Tasha's pulls on the leash yanked her out of her anti-cold-weather
thoughts. //Well, the sooner Tasha is done, the sooner I can get back
where it's warm.//

The morning toiletries dispensed with, both dog and human hurried back to
the building.  Maybe others were awake now.  If not, that meant that
Jennifer would have plenty of hot water for a shower. 

After showering and getting dressed, Jennifer was disappointed that no one
else was awake but Tasha.  As always, the soft glow of the computer
beckoned to her, and she was soon soothed by the company of her electronic
equipment.  The surveilance equipment had done its job properly the night
before, so she properly labeled and archived the tape when she changed it.
//Never know when these tapes might be useful.  I am kinda surprised that
I got all the software and hardware to work together on the first try!//
she thought, pleased.  //Now if I can have this sort of luck with all the
new equipment.//

Satisfied that her current equipment setup was working as anticipated, she
turned her thoughts to other matters.  Someone *had* to have had a lot of
money to have bought all those silly cards with those unmentionable song
chips.  Jennifer figured that the DieHards weren't the only ones who had
gotten "gifts," either.  Other factions had to have been "gifted" as well. 
Hmmm. 

The DieHards were funded by a coalition of occasional vampire characters. 
However, how did the other factions get their funding?  Uncle, she
figured, wouldn't have a problem with funding his devotees -- within
reason, of course.  Janette -- ah, poor absent Janette, she sighed --
would no doubt have money to fund her faction and would have no qualms
doing so. Unaccounted for were the Natpackers, the Knighties, the
Vaqueros, the Ratpackers, the FoDs, and the Perkalator.  There was no way
Tracy could fund a faction on a cop's salary.  //No wonder it's a faction
of one// she snickered. 

The Ratpackers and the Vaqueros were in the same boat.  What kind of money
could a vampire living in a *sewer* have?  And one living in an *abandoned
church*?  Neither of them had much, if any, money.  The FoDs had the
profits from their deli, which gave them a reasonable budget.  Natalie
could probably make some contributions to her faction, but couldn't fund
it completely. 

That left only the Knighties.  //Geez, Nick probably gave them some money
from the deBrabant Foundation.// Jennifer sighed.  Oh, to have that sort
of money available for war.  Or...was that money available?  Didn't the
deBrabant Foundation have some sort of "charitable" charter?  It might pay
to find out.  She bent over her keyboard and began hacking away, her
curiosity driving her to take a look at the deBrabant Foundations's
finances. 

A couple of hours later, the DieHards began to stir.  People wandered in
and out of the shower, raided the well-stocked kitchen, and generally came
to life. 

Jane was the first to notice that Jennifer was still oblivious to the
activity, mesmerised by her computer screen. 

"Jen, weren't you the one who wanted to go sightseeing?  I think everyone
who's going to go is up now.  Laura is going to stay behind to recover
from her dramamine dosage and time zone changes."  Jane stared at the back
of Jennifer's head, as Jennifer gave no sign that she heard her. Jane then
tapped her on the shoulder. 

"Wah-aah!" Jennifer jumped, startled.  "Oh, hi, Jane.  You're up."
Jennifer looked around.  "Wow, everyone's up.  Does anyone want to go see
Toronto?" 

Jane sighed.  Jennifer hadn't heard a word she said.  Those computer types
were *so* oblivious!!  Patiently she repeated herself.  "Laura is going to
stay, but the rest of us are going.  Hey, what are you doing?" 

"I'm checking out the finances of the deBrabant Foundation.  I wonder if
it's legal for Knighties to get funding from there.  I've got all the
financial data downloaded, but I can't make heads or tails of it.  I'm an
engineer, not an accountant.  Maybe somebody else can take a look at these
figures and see if there's something unusual about them."  Her eyes
brightened. "Let's go *do* this town!" 

Jane figured, as a Toronto resident, that she'd act as tour guide. "Where
does everyone want to go first?  There are the typical sights to see, like
the Raven, Nick's loft, the Tower, and Nick's precinct headquarters. Where
else do we want to go, and where to we want to go first?" 

"The Raven won't be any fun this time of day," Helen noted.

"And Nick's loft won't be interesting if we can't go inside," sighed
Lillian. 

"So let's go see police headquarters.  We can decide on the way where we
want to go from there.  Murmurs of assent met Jane's ears as everyone
gathered their coats and security cards. 

Ariel, Helen, and Leah were first out the door.  Jane made sure the
refrigerator door was shut before heading for the elevator.  Lillian,
Lana, and Dawn impatiently waited for Jennifer as she said goodbye to
Tasha, surprised at the production. 

At last, they were all ready.  They were off to see the city, the
wonderful city of Oz... uh, Toronto. 

The Die Hards moved "en mass" out the door of Die Hard headquarters and
down the street. Jane, as their resident Toronto expert, led them quickly
to the closest subway entrance. 

Dawn's suggestion of buying $5 metro travel coupons was quickly taken up.
The coupons allowed the beared to That way they could travel all the bus
services or subways all day without having to keep track of subway tokens
and transfer slip. A necessary plan if they were going to do some serious
sightseeing. 

The Die Hards were going to be in Toronto for the forseeable future, and
none of them wanted to miss the opportunity. They weren't being actively
attacked at the moment and it was a bit too soon for peace treaties. 

The Die Hards (Dawn, Lana, Leah, Lillian, Helen, Ariel, Jane, and
Jennifer) started to go through Toronto with a vengeance. They quickly
checked out the Police Headquarters, and managed to beg a tour of the
division.  Familiarizing themselves with the set-up and watching in an
amused fashion the various computer problems that Nick and Tracy's
division seemed to be having. 

Having done that, they checked out the next item on their list... And got
seriously, semi-permanently stuck. There was no physical, or mental way
that they could get through a quick trip of the ROM (Royal Ontario
Museum). From the gorgeous ceiling at the entrance, the medieval exhibits,
the weapons exhibits, the pottery exhibits, the clothing exhibits, the
talks about what was shot where during "Dark Knight", the... 

They finally stumbled out about four-thirty in the afternoon. Footsore and
weary, they sat down on some nearby benches. "What a day!" Dawn said. 

"Tell me about it." Lana replied.

They savored the moment of silence, and then Ariel, Leah and Helen moved
towards the others. They had been whispering together for the last few
minutes. 

Leah was the first to speak. "You all know what happened last night." Her
cheeks grew a bit red. "I'm not going to talk about it again, but we want
another chance to implement our plan." 

"I brought the necessary stuff in my backpack", Ariel added hopefully.

After a few minutes of organizing about the time to meet back at Die Hard
Headquarters, and making sure that the intrepid adventurers had Dawn's
cellular phone number in case of an emergency, they left on their mission. 

The remaining Die Hards sat on the benches.  Jennifer, or rather the
bundle of clothes that encased her, was shivering in the chilly fall
weather that had descended onto Toronto for the day.  "Kn mmme ooo oomwhr
wrm?" the mass mumbled.  Realizing she wasn't understood, Jennifer removed
the scarf from her face and repeated, "Can we *please* go somewhere
_warm_?" 

Jennifer stared at Dawn in disbelief when she started expanding upon how
Southern Ontario was the warmest place in Canada. But then again, Dawn was
still wearing a fall jacket. 

Lana decided to stop what looked to be turning into a long climatic
discussion. "Well, I've got the Die Hard credit card on me. How about we
treat ourselves to a nice dinner?" Lana pulled out the gold card. "All I
had to do was promise a few things, and the secondary vampire characters
were <more> than happy to fund the Die Hard during this war." 

"What do you mean, 'promises'?" Dawn asked.

Lana looked a bit guilty. "You know your Dreamscapes series? Well...
Ummm... they sort of wanted..." 

Dawn's face creased with a sense of impending doom. "You didn't!"

Lana just grinned.

###

TROUBLE LEAVES PARADISE
by John Ewan

Time: 7am EST
Place: Key West, Florida

John was packing his old Navy duffle bag, "Yeah, apparently some cuzzin is
make ol' Screed drive a truckload of Q-tips <tm> around Canada!  No
mention of pay or anything; it's not like he's really *good* at that
anyhow.  So, he snagged her Visa card.  I got that number and couple other
should be on the way, as soon as he gets them.  Glad of it, I wouldn't be
goin' if we didn't have it!"

Kathy, John's wife, hands him his long rider coat, "You could hide a sword
under this..."

John laughs, "I'm not dealing with Immortals!  Besides, I'm gonna get by
on charm and abject groveling, not violence!  Since we weren't able to get
a flight out of Key West you have to drive me up to Miami, why don't you
take the credit card number, call some places and charge stuff to it and
say someone will pick it up this afternoon.  The station-wagon can hold a
good bit, see if this woman has a credit limit.  I'll call if any more
numbers come my way."

The ride to Miami was quiet, just a little over two and a half hours.
John went to the Ticket counter and sort through the folders.  He handed
Kathy the two tickets from Key West to Las Vegas for December 27th; good
thing Kathy's mom had won enough at bingo to fly down for the holidays.
He put the roundtrip ticket from Toronto to Vegas for Screed in his
pocket, along with his current ticket.

John hugs his daughter, "Be good."

"Bring me sumthin'"

He kisses his wife, she says, "Have a good time, just not too good a
time!"

John smiles and winks at both of them.

The flight to Toronto is quiet.  John arrives and grabs a cab to the
hotel. //No Cuzzin would be caught dead in Holiday Inn!// he thought.  He
quickly changed into clothes suitable for visiting Screed.  Long
underwear, heavy wool socks and thin pull-on rubber boots worn inside a
large pair of sneakers.  Then layered jeans and sweats covered by that
heavy car coat with the blue stain on the pocket, gloves and a wool cap.
John looked in the mirror.  //The mustache and goatee are ok; haven't been
trimmed or shaved for a couple of days.  The *tan* might be able to be
passed off as just skin tone; let loose the ponytail... Yessss, they may
not even be able to give a good description with this much hair.  Heheh,
Vacant on a Bad Hair Day, that's me!//

John slips out of a side door and begins to stroll the streets of Toronto;
the Ratpack is on the move!

###

FACING UNCLE
by Julie Randolph

Time: After sunrise
Place: Cousin Headquarters

Cousin Julie pulled into headquarters with half a mind to defect to the
Die Hards rather than face Uncle and tell him what she had
done...erm...without his knowledge.  "Oh well...I always thought he needed
to chill anyway." The Knighties were safely watched by Screed, but with
the presence of the Vaqueros in town, she wondered how long he would be
faithful to her...hmm...better send someone back to check. 

Fortunately, she had captured John who stole her Visa card and he had
happily agreed to run some errands in exchange for the tickets he
illegally charged in her name. 

'Hey, can you drive a standard?"

John smiled,"No worries, what do you need?"

"I'm not worries about the Knighties, Screed really can't stand Nick for
what that's worth, but Vachon...they were buds for centuries, and you know
how Screed is...just go back and check on them...oh wait, here," she
tossed him a pack of cigarettes and a bag of hamburgers, "I don't wnat
Scottie going into huge nick-fits down there." 

John laughed and prepared to leave,"No pun?"

"Oh yeah, it was meant...just hurry, okay, I don'thave a clue what their
up to, fortunately it's daylight so we should be safe for the moment." 

"on my way...did you want me to call you?"

'Use the phone in my truck, just letme know what s going on, I'll check
the computers and see if the money is there." 

"Gotcha."  he squeeled away, headed back to the sewers.

Julie took a deep breath and entered CERK, most everyone was asleep, but
beginning to stir gently,"Hi everyone, why are we not at the Raven I've
been looking all over." 

"You didn't hear?" Zillah intoned, looking unamused, "Janette came
back...but I have the deed now." 

Julie paled,"Janette....is HERE?"

"Uh, yeah...what, you didn't think she'd show up for the war?"

"Honestly?  No...but then Susan can be pretty persuasive ifnecessary, I
should have known." 

'Where have you been?"

"Down in the sewers with the Knighties."

"WHAT?  You still have them?"

"Yeah, what did you expect me to do with them?"

"I assumed you'd let them go I guess..."

"Moi?  A Cousin?  Let someone GO???  For FREE...oh no, I don't think
so...is, uhm...is Uncle here?" 

"In the back, but asleep...unless you care to wake him?"

"Not particularly, where's his computer?"

"Why?  what have you done?"

"forget it, where?

"Same room, how quiet do you suppose you can be?"

Julie sighed...did she take her chances?  Would Nick have successfully
rewired his computer by now?  Probably not, although there must be a
computer wiz in the Knightie faction somewhere.  She needed to know.  She
snuck into the back and peered around the corner. 

"I can feel you hovering, get in here."

"Oh DAMN!"

Julie stepped through the door as several Cousins shook thier head,
LaCroix had already had a horrible day and night, being trapped with those
infernal Knighties in the cellar of the Raven, he was in a BAD mood. 

"what have you done, Julie?"

She paused, the sound of a heartbeat filled the room,"Oh forget it, doesnt
work on me, but if you'll stop trying to hypnotise me, I'll tell you." 

He was up, across the room and standing at her side before she could
move,"Do not irritate me." 

"I kidnapped some Knighties."

"You did WHAT...you aren't responsible for that cellar incident...because
if you are..." 

"The what?  Nonono, that wasn't me.  I've got Screed holding my Knighties
down in the sewer." 

"And what, pray tell, did you intend to do with them?"

"Uhm...ransom?"

"Why?"

"I need to buy a Merc."

"And coming to me didn't cross your mind?"

"Well, uhm..*cough* you know, you were so...tied up."

"How much do you need?"

"Can I use your computer for a sec?"

"What for?"

"I need to check something."

Julie walked over to the computer and typed in the swiss account
number...it still read $0.00,"DAMNIT!" 

"Your plan didn't work."

Julie smiled, it was an evil grin that LaCroix actually appreciated,"Not
yet." 

"Then we'll wait, and Julie?"  He said this as she began to leave the
room, thanking whatever being was up there that he hadn't seen it
necessary to kill her. 

"Yes Uncle?"

"Do not ever cross me again."

That was all he need say, she scampered out of the room and back into the
menagarie of Cousins that were waking slowly to the new day. 

"Okay, things are getting a little complicated....I need help, any
volunteers?" 

###

(John returns to the sewer.)
by John Ewan

Time: After sunrise
Place: Toronto

***Portions of this are freely adapted to include information not
available to Cousin Julie at the time. 

Cousin Julie pulled into headquarters ... The Knighties were safely
watched by Screed, but with the presence of the Vaqueros in town, she
wondered how long he would be faithful to her...hmm...better send someone
back to check. 

Fortunately, she had captured John who stole her Visa card and he had
happily agreed to run some errands in exchange for the tickets he
illegally charged in her name. 

She glanced at John, //He looks like a Die-Hard PosterChild!  Vachon's
hair, only a dark blond, Nick's smile, Don's body, Nat's heart, Screed's
ethics, Janette's lust, LaCroix's butt and I'll bet he'd make a *good*
cop!  If he messes up again, I may kill him!//

'Hey, can you drive a standard?"

John smiled,"No worries, what do you need?"

John glanced around the parking lot, he always had trouble lying without
looking guilty.  //Kathy is right; people just don't expect a guy to reach
forty without ever having had a driver's license.//

"I'm not worries about the Knighties, Screed really can't stand Nick for
what that's worth, but Vachon...they were buds for centuries, and you know
how Screed is...just go back and check on them...oh wait, here," she
tossed him a pack of cigarettes and a bag of hamburgers, "I don't wnat
Scottie going into huge nick-fits down there." 

John laughed and prepared to leave,"No pun?"

"Oh yeah, it was meant...just hurry, okay, I don'thave a clue what their
up to, fortunately it's daylight so we should be safe for the moment." "on
my way...did you want me to call you?" 

'Use the phone in my truck, just letme know what s going on, I'll check
the computers and see if the money is there." 

//Les'see, the pedal with the left foot, then shift...// <*GRIIIIND*!>
"Gotcha."  he squeeled away, headed back to the sewers. //I hope they
drive defensively in Toronto!//

//I'm glad the cops are too busy tracking serial killers to worry about
Traffic!// John thought as he parked the truck.  He grabbed the bag of
burgers and the cigerettes and got out of the truck.  He paused, then
reached in and yanked the ashtray out.  He slammed the door shut and
stepped back to survey the damage.  //I might be able to hammer that out,
myself.  A little touchup paint, good as new.//

John headed down into the sewer, taking one last breath of fresh air.  His
senses adjusted quickly to the noisome murk.  He would be able to move
fairly well in the dark.  While most people will be put off by the odor
down here, the sudden ambient cold has made John's sinuses work overtime
and now it is nearly impossible for him to smell anything.  Along the way,
he picked up a large plastic bucket, trash from some construction work. 
Near Screed's place he scoop up some sludge and fould muck and positioned
the bucket just to the left and above the crawlway from the sewer to the
hovel.  //Tipping this in the doorway should slow up pursuit long enough
for me to go to ground...// John also checked the crawlspace above his
buddy's home, nice and easy to slide into and nearly invisible when there. 
The ceiling is a nice solid piece of cement and has a convenient vent to
check things out first.  //Cool, no one unexpected in there yet.// John
slipped quietly down and went to the crawlway. 

"Hiho, droog!  Beware of geeks bearing grift!" he called as he entered
Screed's lair through the back door.  "I have some food for yer guests and
weeds for the "Beam-Me-Up' girl!" 

A quick glance at their faces and John knew which merely hungered and the
one who felt the 'need'.  He handed the burgers to Screed to let him start
feeding someone and crouched down beside Scottie, "Here's your cigs...
but, first..."  Scottie's eyes narrowed and her face lost the expectant
joy. John held up a car ashtray, "This is yer lungs.... Hmmm,... Ah,
Screed?  Her eyes just turned kinda orange, that nasty nicotine kinda
orange and she's growlin' at me.  Would you help her with her smokes and
I'll feed the saner folk."  As he passes by Screed, John whispers, "Are
you *sure* those chains will hold them? 

"Boyo, them malinkie Knighties ain't scarperin'!" Screed says, smiling.

John sits down between Ericka and Marcia, holding pieces of hamburger for
each to lean forward and bite some off. 

Ericka glares at him, "This...is...*so*...degrading!" She hisses through
clenched teeth. 


John smiles, "Yeah, it's the Cuzzin way!  C'mon, manga, manga!  It ain't
souvlaki, but it'll do.  Just to change the subject, I know the thought
hasn't even begun to consider crossing yer Knightie little minds, but I'll
give ya some pointers on paying off.... er, hiring the likes of us.
Currently, I have this VISA bill that needs to be taken care or, and some
min...*major* body work on a truck, that could be in cash, and the desire
for some chocolate.  Make it Hershey's; Hugs, Kisses or bars, with or
without, it's all great.  Carouches don't do Godiva. Least, not more than
once a year!" 

As Screed is about to strike the match and light Scottie's cigarette, John
glances over, smiles and says, "Hey, the air down here ain't explosive, is
it?" 

###

THE RESCUERS
by Perri Smith and SciFiMarcia, with contributions by John Ewan

Time: After sunrise
Place: Screed's lair

"It cannot be that hard to find cigarettes! I know vampires smoke, Janette
did it all the time, now if you're going to keep me here, get me
cigarettes! Where's that pack that ratfink RatPacker brought in. It was
only an hour ago, you can't have lost it!!!!" 

Scottie hadn't shut up for almost six hours, and she'd been screeching
steadily since John had taken 'a coffee break' an hour before. Screed was
almost tempted just to munch, and worry about LaCroix and his little
followers later. 

"It's daylight, y'see," he told her for the fourteenth time. "An' if I go
out in that, I'm gonna be toast. So siddown until someone comes t' take ye
out o' my hair!!!" 

"Ew!!!! Another rat!!! I want Nick!!!!" Marcia yelled.

Without wasting a second, the other two took up the chant. "We want Nick!
We want Nick!" 

Screed's fangs actually came out this time; he remembered the cousins and
stalked away instead. Marcia, Scottie and Erika exchanged grins. At least
they were making his life miserable. 

From far away, they heard voices echoing oddly off the walls of the
sewers, and the grins got wider. At last, rescue! 

"Boy, there places look even worse in person that on tv," someone was
hollering. "Perri, when we said we wanted to go sightseeing, we didn't
exactly have the sewers in mind!!" 

"You comes to visit, you takes your chances," a Texan voice answered
breezily. "This looks like the turn." 

It was indeed the turn -- an entire crusade of Knighties came into view.

"Scottie!" one of the Karen's squealed, running forward to start to untie
her. She was stopped when a vampiric form flew to land in front of her. 

"Now you can just stop right there, as the Defective would say.I got this
malinkie three under my charge, and I ain't about t' let you just waltz
away with them!" Actually, Screed looked as if he'd like nothing better. 

Catherine and Perri elbowed their way to the front of the crowd. "Well,
you can at least let us feed them," Catherine said, shoving past him. "I'm
sure you haven't been giving them anything!!!" 

"Now, I don't think...."

Perri shoved a box under his face. "It's just souvlaki, heavy on the
garlic just the way Scottie likes it, right?" 

Screed almost gagged at the aroma, pulling his head away so fast he almost
hurt himself, only to be met with a box on the other side. "And pizza for
Marcia!" 

Screed stumbled back away from the women. "Get those things away from me!"

Catherine and Perri attempted to look offended. Not easy, considering the
giggles they were trying to hold back. "Hey, watch it or we'll tell the
FoD's - this is straight from the Happy Souvlaki Deli!" 

"Perri?" Maryann and Paula stopped hunting around. "We can't find the
VCR." 

"What do you need a VCR for?" Screed yelped.

"To watch this," Paula said, holding up a video cassette. "We figured our
friends must be totally bored and if we're going to be stuck here with
them, this is our favorite movie and we can't watch it at the loft." 

No wonder. Screed stared in horror at the cheerleader on the cover. Buffy,
the Vampire Slayer. 

"Get that the hell out of here!!!!" he yelled.

Several Knighties looked shocked. "Watch your mouth," Dottie scolded,
pulling something out of her shirt. Others followed suit, and Screed found
himself surrounded by crosses. He backed away, almost running into Perri
and Catherine, who looked him in the eye. 

"You have two choices here, Screed. You can let us go, or we can leave
most of us here with our garlic and our movie and our crosses and our
nicfit friend," Scottie took the hint and looked appropiately crazed,
"while the rest of us find Nick to deal with you. Well?" 

Screed only thought for a moment. Nick might kill him; LaCroix would. His
arm came out slapping the food away fromt he Knighties. "They stay." He
advanced on Perri and Catherine, his fangs coming out. "An' if you ain't
careful, I'll keep y' here with 'em!" 

A voice hissed from above, "And he ain't alone, Ladies of the Knight!  Ya
made yer best threat, now make a better offer or begone.  Avaunt thee back
to sun and souvlaki!" 

The ladies jumped at the voice from above; Perri and Catherine shrunk away
from Screed. Then the voice came from around the corner. 

"Screed."  Nick spoke simply in his deep quiet voice as he appeared from
the tunnel entrance..  Several Knighties - no, each and every one - felt a
sudden chill at hearing that voice.  It wasn't an altogether unpleasant
feeling. But Catherine and Perri stopped quivering and looked *very* smug. 

The ragtag vampire came forth to take his medicine, quivering slightly as
he looked up at the imposing figure awaiting him.  "I was made to do it, I
was," he muttered.  "Didn't touch the lovelies, I didn't, ask 'em." 

Nick turned to regard the former captives.  Scottie looked disgusted, but
she spoke in defense of the rat-eater.  "Nah, he didn't come near us.  Of
course we made his guardianship miserable..."  The three had a brief
giggle, but it died when they saw Nick was still unhappy. 

"Really," Marcia said, "he was as much as captive as we were, weren't ya,
Screed?"  She smiled wryly.  "The Cousins leaned pretty hard on him." 

"Yeah," Erika stuck in, "The only one enjoying it was that RatPacker,
John, the loud-mouth from upstairs." She gestured towards the source of
the voice and Nick looked up. But there was no one there. 

***

From his hideyhole above the sewers, John wisely decided to stay out of
sight. Better to face a possibly-angry LaCroix than an enraged Nick
surrounded by Knighties. Time for a strategic retreat. 

***

Screed took up the defense, gaining confidence.  "See then, Defective, it
weren't my fault!  Them were Cousins and I have a proper fear of their
master, you see..."  It was the wrong thing to say.  Nick didn't
appreciate a mention of LaCroix just now.  "Er, and of you, too, and I
would never hurt the likes of these.  Oh, no, Screed knows better than
that!" 

"I'm sure you do now," Nick murmured, exchanging a glance with the nearest
Knighties.  He could tell that the three who were kidnapped were none the
worse for wear, just tired and cold.  That was what was important.  He
sighed.  Wars.  Knighties.  "But this will. Not. Happen. Again." 

"No, no, not again," Screed hastened to assure him.

"Good," Nick said, turning back to the Knighties. "Take them out to the
car. I'll be out in a moment." 

Perri and Cath ushered their flock out of the sewer and out to the various
vehicles they'd brought. No one raised more than a token protest about
sewer goo on the upholstry. 

Nick joined them a minute later. All he would say was that he and Screed
had made an arangement. Erika said later she'd seen what looked like
Nick's checkbook. 

And they didn't have the chance to question Nick; he was too busy dealing
with Knighties. The kidnappees thanked him with bearhugs, which he
returned after only a slight hesitation. And the rest of the Knighties,
never ones to miss out on hugs, jumped right in. 

In the happy chaos, no one noticed the figure that crept out of the sewers
and into the night. 

All in all, John figured, he had a lot of explaining to do.

###

MEETING THE POLICE
by PartlyK

Time: 6:00 am EST  
Place: Toronto.

Partly woke to the annoying beep of her travel alarm, pulling herself out
of a deep sleep.  She arrived into Toronto at five after a cold, wet and
totally exhausting drive.  She had managed to get some sleep on the plane,
but still felt like she had lead in her veins instead of blood.  She would
have stayed in Buffalo and drove up later in the day, but she was afraid
that she would miss something.  Besides, she really wanted to meet with
Tracy.  So she pulled into a inconspicuous parking spot and slept for an
hour. 

She would have slept longer, but she really wanted to see if she could
"accidently" run into Nick at the station.  Partly ran a comb through her
hair, applied a light touch of make up to cover the tired look around her
eyes, then climbed out of the car, holding her purse protectively to her. 
Button Down had won at 35 to 1, that gave Partly $700 from her beginning
$20.  She had then let it ride on Vetteran -- she had found out later that
the program had an extra "t" to her name -- but standing there holding
that first lucky twenty, Partly wasn't at all surprised she won. After her
breakfast with Tracy she was going to hit the first bank she could find. 
Carrying that much cash made her nervous.  That and the prospect of
meeting Nick. 

The officer at the desk, told her that Tracy was just getting off duty and
would be out in a minute.  Just as Partly was going to have a seat, she
heard Nicks unmistakable voice coming from behind her.  Tracy's joined
his.  "I don't know what the big deal is, Knight.  Just get it repainted."
The past Partly on the way to their desks.  "At least they didn't paint
the leather." 

Partly walked over to them, cutting off whatever response Nick might have
had.  "TorontoTrace?" She asked, using Tracy's online name. 

Tracy looked up.  "PartlyK?"

"I'm sorry I'm early." Partly glanced at Nick.  "Are you off duty yet?" 

"In just a minute." She motioned to Nick.  "This is my partner, Nick
Knight.  Nick this a friend of mine from the states, Partly..." She
trailed off.  "I don't even know your real name." 

"That's OK, Partly works." She offered her hand to Nick.  "It's really
Becky Kludy, but most of my online friends call me Partly." 

"Partly Kludy," Nick sounded it out.  "I suppose that makes as much sense
as any other online name I've heard." He suddenly froze and stared at
Partly.  "Online?  You met *online*?" 

"Yes." Partly was waking up quickly, and was beginning to enjoy this
process of needling Nick.  "We met on The List," she gave the two words
added emphasis and noted with satisfaction the deer in the headlights look
that Nick had.  Then she continued.  "Discussing Quebec's vote.  It was
very educational." 

Nick's eyes narrowed and Partly got a sense of his more dangerous nature,
but Tracy interrupted before he could speak.  "I just have to get my coat,
Partly.  Be right back." 

Partly would have followed, but Nick blocked her way.  "Who are you?  Are
you a Natpacker?  Or are you one of LaCroix's?" 

Partly raised her hands and backed away.  "What are you talking about? 
I'm just here to see Tracy." 

"Why?"

"I *like* her, she's a friend."  That made him pause.  "Are you always
this hostile?"  Nick backed off a little bit, but he didn't look like he
completely trusted her.  She decided to pad her story a little, it
wouldn't hurt to have Nick believing she wasn't involved with the war.  "I
thought Canadian's were supposed to be friendly.  I drive all night just
so I can get a chance to have breakfast with the only person I know up
here, and I get hassled by her partner." 

Nick ran a hand through his hair.  "Look, I'm sorry.  It's been a rough
night. 

Tracy returned in time to hear Nick.  "Someone trashed his car," she said. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." Partly tried to sound nonchalant, but her mind
was racing.  The caddy?  Someone trashed the caddy?  She was amazed at how
fast the war was progressing.  No wonder Nick was so defensive.  She
really needed to be able to get online.  "Well, we better be going.  Good
bye, Detective Knight, I hope you find out who did that to your car." 

"See you tonight, Nick."  Tracy said as they left.

They ended up eating at a small diner not to far from the station. They
spent most of the meal in small talk, filing in all the details that the
left out online, and everything that happened to them since they last
talked.  When Tracy got to the part about the crank program in her
computer, Partly had to laugh. 

"I'm sorry.  It just sounds so funny.  Who do you think did it?" 

"Oh, I don't know."  She smiled a little.  "It is kind of funny though
isn't it?  If it was Nick, or anyone in the room for that matter, they
probably hated it more than I did by the time I was through with all my
paper work."  They laughed some more.  "You know you were the second
person that has just called me up out of the blue yesterday." 

"Really?  Who was it?"

"Someone I hadn't seen for ages.  Jamie Melody Randell, she's from the
states too."  Partly almost choked on her juice.  "Do you know her?" Tracy
asked. 

Partly managed to recover.  "I don't think so.  The name just sounded
familiar."  Yeah, familiar from the list.  Jamie Melody Randell. Lets see: 
Jamie, Jamie.  Oh Lord.  Jamie M.R. -- The Illustrated Cousin. What did a
*cousin* want with Tracy?  "Is she staying here long?" 

"No.  She was just passing through.  She was on a scavenger hunt." 

"I haven't done a scavenger hunt for years," Partly said.  "What was she
looking for?" 

"She needed an signed picture of a woman in a bikini on the beach in the
moonlight."  Tracy shook her head.  "Pretty weird, huh?" 

"Did she get it?"

"Oh, yes.  I..."  Tracy suddenly trailed off, staring at her cup and
stirring her coffee.  "At least, I think so." 

Partly suspected that there was a lot more to the story than that, but
didn't know how to press for more information.  She also felt sure that
picture would be the source of problems yet.  But right now she was way to
tired to deal with anything. 

"Listen, Tracy.  I've got to be going.  I'm lucky if I got five hours of
sleep in the last two days.  I gotta get a hotel room and crash." Partly
pulled out her wallet, the stopped.  "I don't have any Canadian money." 

Tracy waved her hand.  "Don't worry about it.  I'll pay."

"Some friend I am, making you pay for breakfast.  But I'll be here for a
week at least, so why don't we go out some night when you have off?" 

"Give me a call later tonight or tomorrow night, and let me know." Tracy
paid the bill.  "Goodbye, Partly." 

"Good *night* Tracy."

###

ON THE BOARDWALK
by Diane Echelbarger and Cousin Candice

Time: Early
Place: Toronto

Diane awoke at 5:30 AM and treated herself to a long, hot shower before
slipping out for an early-morning cup of coffee.

<Good thing I talked the others into a B&B,> she thought.  <If we were in
one of those downtown hotels, I'd be kicking my heels in the lobby until
everything opened.>

She strolled down Waverly to Queen Street East and bought a large cafe au
lait from The Second Cup.  The server remembered her from yesterday, and
chatted politely while he steamed the milk.  Diane reflected happily that,
now that she knew the War really *was* on--Vicki's note having set her
mind at rest on that score--she'd have time to become a 'regular' at the
place. 

Wrapping her gloved hands around the styrofoam, she crossed the busy
street at the light and entered Kew Park.  The sky was just beginning to
lighten, and she had this section of the park pretty much to herself.  As
she passed the playground, a black squirrel with a surprisingly white tail
chittered at her from a nearby tree.  She grinned, remembering the
'vampire squirrel' thread that had flourished briefly on the list. 

Eventually, she reached the boardwalk, where so many FK scenes had been
shot, and turned to the right.  Half of Toronto seemed to be walking their
dogs here, as usual, and she found herself looking *very* closely at any
golden retreiver that passed her in the pre-dawn dimness.  <Silly,> she
chided herself, <Jody and Perry left town, remember?>

The camera bag slung at her hip was heavy, a reminder of why she was here. 
If she continued on around to that little pavilion on Ashbridge's Bay, she
could probably get some good shots of the sunrise over Lake Ontario.... 

An hour and a roll of film later, Diane packed up her Yashica, eager to
return to her lodgings and the breakfast that should be waiting for her. 
As she passed the changing rooms on the half-moon of sandy beach, she
heard a voice calling her name. 

"Diane?  Diane Echelbarger, is that you?"

Diane turned, and faced the 5'2" brunette woman who had come up behind
her.  A well-kempt looking woman, she was wore a black leather trenchcoat,
jeans and a warm looking wool sweater.  But the first thing that Diane
really noticed was her blood-red scarf.  "Do I know you?" she asked,
trying to place the vaguely-familiar face. 

Candice took off her mirrored shades with exaggerated flare and smiled.
"Ah yes, we met last June, I think it was.  On the set of Forever Knight,
but only briefly.  I was rather busy and I never got a chance to introduce
myself properly.  Cousinly duties always getting in the way." Candice
winked and grinned slightly.  Diane noticed she too, was holding a large
styrofoam container from The Second Cup. 

"Oh, right, I remember now," Diane nodded, hoping her sudden nervousness
didn't show.  "You took care of Tuppence while she was on the set, right?" 

"Mhmm, that was me.  So how is that shadowy terror you call a cat?"

"She's put on another couple of pounds, and it's hairball season, but
other than that, she's okay."  Diane frowned slightly as she continued her
walk back to the B&B, worrying that this little meeting was related to her
bumping into LaCroix the night before.  Candice fell into step beside her
as she continued, "Funny thing, though.  The whole time I was packing, she
kept trying to climb into my luggage.  It was almost as if she was trying
to come along!"  Diane scowled a moment, then shook her head. "No, that
doesn't make any sense.  Why would she want to do that?  It isn't as if
she'd know where I was going; she's only a cat!" 

"You're not serious are you?  Tuppence tried to get into your luggage?"
Candice laughed with what seemed to be utter disbelief to Diane, but
inside, Candice was seething.  <What was that damnable cat -thinking-!
When I sent that 'stray' out west wth the message for Tuppence to get to
Toronto a.s.a.p. we meant *alone*.> That brought another question to
Candice's attention.  It wasn't as if she didn't already know Diane was up
to something--she *was* in Toronto for the War--but it wouldn't hurt to
frazzle her nerves a bit. 

"If you don't mind my asking," she turned to face Diane, who nodded in
return, "what brings you here to Toronto?" 

Diane smiled nervously.  "Well, y'know," she explained a little too
quickly, "I never really had the time to do any sightseeing, during the
last War, what with the filming and all, and I figured it'd be fun to sit
on the sidelines and watch stuff develop, instead of just hearing all of
you talk about it afterwards...." She trailed off and countered with a
question of her own. "Uh, so I suppose you're--uh--keeping busy, what with
the War starting yesterday and all?" 

"I'd say I have my hands full.  There are *so* many Cousins on board this
time around and it's hard to put them in places where they'll be useful.
They're all so eager to lend a hand!  Got any suggestions?  I mean what
would -you- do with a Baker's Dozen of creative minds such as theirs?" 

"Run like hell," Diane muttered under her breath.

"What?" Candice enquired politely.

"Uh-- I dunno," Diane swallowed and pretended to watch the squirrels. "I'm
not much into group things.  One reason I never joined a faction..." 

Candice took a sip from her own cup, trying to break the uneasy silence
that had fallen between them.  "There's nothing quite like black coffee in
the morning, wouldn't you agree?"  They walked further down the path in
the park towards Queen's Street East. 

"Actually I'm treating myself to a cafe au lait this morning,"
Dianeadmitted.  "The Second Cup makes it so well, I couldn't resist.  Just
like in Seattle.  Of course, they make *everything* well, don't you
think?" 

Candice sipped again from her cup and actually thought about this one
before she answered.  "Mhmm, isn't that where Don used to get his coffee
and doughnuts?  It's a shame Nick can't enjoy the same pleasures the rest
of us do..." Candice trailed off and smiled into her coffee. 

"Actually, the only coffee shop they ever mentioned was Buckstar's," Diane
replied quickly, ignoring the second half of Candice's comment. "Guess
they didn't dare use a *real* store name, so they just sorta switched
Starbuck's around.  There's one downtown, y'know." 

"I didn't know Starbucks made doughnuts...did you eve notice how red the
jelly is that The Second Cup uses?" 

They continued walking together towards the streetcars, brushing past
people on various errands, trying to make small-talk. 

"So, what's in your camera?" Candice gestured to Diane's shoulder strap
and tried to guess, "Kodak?  Fugifilm?  Kodachrome?" 

"Nothing, I just finished a roll.  I use Kodak film, mostly, but I got
some special low-light stuff from Seattle Film for museums and stuff." 

"Well, here's where I leave you in search of the Eternal Sale," Candice
said with deliberate casualness.  "I was planning on heading down to the
Harbourfront Antique Market, down on Queen's Quay, then on to some
heavy-duty wardrobing.  Or would you like to come with me?  I'm sure we
could talk about all *sorts* of interesting things-- you know, f-stops,
developers, printing paper..." 

"Well, uh, to be honest," Diane replied, puzzled and a little relieved by
this turn in the conversation, "I mostly use the auto-exposure setting,
and I never develop my own film.  Jennie Hayes keeps promising to teach me
the finer points, but she's so busy, we never seem to find the time." 

"I'll take that as a no.  Well it was a pleasure seeing you again,
really." Candice reached inside the inner pocket of her jacket and opened
up the gleaming silver business-card case her father had given to her. 
"Here's my card if you ever want to chit-chat over coffee again sometime,
but I've really got to get going.  I'll put the number where I'll be
staying for a while on the back.  Feel free to call anytime." 

After removing her black leather glove to get a better grip on her pen,
she wrote in careful strokes the number of her cellular phone.  It was
always on her person any time, night or day, and she didn't want to impose
on her gracious...host.  Candice flashed Diane a dazzling smile--though to
Diane it looked more like a feral grin. 

"Uh, yeah, sure,"  Diane agreed, licking her lips nervously and clutching
her camera bag a little closer.  "I've, uh, gotta get back to breakfast
now. Bye!" 

She turned away and hurried up Elmer Avenue.  After all, even if the
meeting had been an accident, there was no reason the Cousin needed to
know exactly where she was staying.... 

Candice watched from the trolley as Diane turned the card over in her hand
before slipping it into her pocket.  Candice put her glove back on her
right hand, trying to warm it quickly.  <It's never a good idea to remove
ANY clothing while outdoors in Toronto> she thought, pointedly annoyed at
her own stupidity.  "You'll need that number sooner than you think my
dear," she mumbled to herself.  A smug, satisfied smile plastered itself
across her face. The trolley pulled away and headed downtown. Shopping
would definitely be a gratifying experience today.... 

As soon as she rounded the corner, out of Candice's sight, Diane tossed
the business card into the nearest bush. <*No way* am I *ever* going to
call *that* Cousin,> she thought with a shudder, carefully wiping her
fingers on a tissue, and tossing the tissue after the card.  <Lisa
McDavid, *maybe*, but Candice looks like she's auditioning for a role as
one of FK's serial killers...>

Suddenly chilled, she hurried back to her B&B, wondering if Vicki-the-
Merc might be interested in a job as bodyguard.... 

###

AND THEN YOU DIE (Part 1)
by Tara O'Shea

Time: 7am
Place: Tara's apartment

Her alarm went off, and Tara was out of bed like a shot. Rifling through
the kitchen drawer, Tara came up with an old AT&T bill, and quickly
flipped to True Country Savings.  Bingo, Toronto calls. She dialled and
impatiently tapped her fingers on the counter as her call was forwarded. 

"Scott Cooper," a male voice at the other end of the line answered.

"Small question, did you email me last night?"

"Um... no."

"I would have called at 6am your time, but thought better of it, feel
blessed. Someone played a very nasty practical joke, and so I immediately
thought of you." 

"Should I be offended?"

"You tell me.  'Due South Meets Baywatch'?"

"Would that mean I get to meet Pamela Anderson?"

"Never mind, don't worry about it.  I'll tell you tho, whoever cobbled
together the quicktime movie they sent is a genius.  I'm not going to be
ale to meet on IRC Sunday tho." 

"Do I want to know why?"

"War.  Long story."  Tara hung up, and chewed on a fingernail, her mind
spinning.  The candy was classic Amy and Jennie.  They had had a ball at
DOW replacing her cigarettes and lighters with Pez and candy, and no one
else knew about it but them.  She had chalked it up to a joke, but this... 

This was definitely in the flavour of a wartime prank.  And with Janette
off gods only knew where, she wasn't quite sure what to do. The Ravens
must be getting together.  Only one thing she *could* do.  Contact Susan. 
She was de-facto leader in the Boss's absence after all, and if it was
war.  Well, that called for turnabout. 

###

OFF TO TORONTO
by Chanda Keith

Time: 7:30 am EST
Place: Chanda's school

"Well, it's finally started and this stupid network is working for once so
I can enjoy it."  I said as I looked at the school computer and munched on
one of the candy cigarettes someone have left on my door this morning. 
        
"I guess it's time for me to head to Toronto, but how am I going to afford
it?  Oh, wait a minute.  Silly me.  Cousins and uncles and aunts, the real
kind, not LaCroix's fanatics.  I just love being from a big family!"  I
thought as I started to dial my Uncle Don's number. 
        
A few minutes later, I had my ride to Toronto.  Now I just had to pack.  I
stayed in a good mood until I opened my closet and got a good look at my
clothes.  They worked just fine for school, but sweatshirts and jeans just
weren't going to cut it where I was going. 
        
"Time to call another relative."  I thought as I headed towards the phone
and dialed my Aunt Ruth's number. 
        
"Hi, Aunt Ruth."  I said.  "It's Chanda.  Listen, Aunt Ruth.  I'm in a bit
of a jam.  I'm getting ready to go to Canada on a....  research trip
for.... French class and well, it turns out that I need a few things that
I just don't see how I'm going to afford on the pitiful little salery I
make in the cafeteria.  I was wondering if you could.....  Yeah!  That
would be great, Aunt Ruth.  You'll wire the money for the hotel too?
Great!  I can stop and pick it up at the bank on my way.  Thanks!" 
        
"Ten thousand dollars."  I thought as I hung up the phone and went back to
packing.  "That ought to be enough to buy all new clothes and pay for a
hotel room.  Maybe I can pick up a laptop, too.  You never know when you
might need one and besides, if I get a laptop that means I won't have to
rely on this crazy school account anymore.  Boy, wasn't it a lucky thing
about Aunt Ruth and that lottery." 
        
Nearly an hour later, my Uncle Don's car was packed.  I had jammed in all
of my Forever Knight tapes (I could buy a TV and VCR when I got there),
abouth a hundred books to read on the way, a ten pound bottle of garlic I
borrowed from the cafeteria (you never know when you might need to repell
some nasty vampire), and a 200 gallon container of soap (I had no idea
what I was going to do with the soap, but it looked like a lot of fun so I
took it anyway).  I could pick out my new Ravenette clothes when I got to
Toronto. 
        
"This is going to be fantastic!"  I thought as we headed off down the
highway. 

###

I'M HERE!
by Chanda Keith

Time: Before 8am EST
Place: Toronto Sheraton

"I can't believe that I'm finally here!"  I cried as my uncle deposited
all of my assorted possessions in the lobby of the Toronto Sheraton and
left to begin the long ride back to Tennessee. 
     
"What do I do now, though?  I don't see any of the other Ravenettes or
Immortal Beloveds anywhere.  I don't know if we're going to stay together
or spread out or what!  I don't even know what name they would be
regestered under so I can't try to find them!  Well, I guess I'll just
have to wait down here until I spot someone who can tell me where I'm
supposed to be.  While I'm waiting, I better go call my roommate and tell
her where I am."  I thought as I headed towards the bank of phones behind
a post dragging my luggage behind me. 
     
"Hi, Marsha."  I said when my roommate picked up the phone.  "How are
you?" 
     
"Chanda!"  she yelled.  "Where are you?  Why did I find a recipe for blood
on my desk when I came in last night?" 
     
"Is it the one with the orange, grape and cranberry juice?  Did I forget
it?  I'm sorry about that.  I meant to take it with me.  Calm down,
Marsha.  It's something I heard about that I though would be fun to try.
It sounds really healthy.  Listen, Marsha.  I was just calling to tell you
that I'm...." 
     
"Do you know anything about this black box I found in our doorstep this
morning?  When I picked it up it started screaming over and over 'JANETTE
IS GONE!' Janette's that vampire that you like so much, isn't she?  The
one whose pictures are plastered all over your side of the room?" 
     
"Yeah.  That's Janette.  I wonder who could have sent something like that
to me?  Probably one of those nasty little Natpackers or maybe it was the
Nick&Natpack.  Uh, Marsha, are you still there?" 
     
"Yes.  I have no idea what you are talking about.  I think you ought to
know that we thought that the little package your friends sent you was a
bomb!  We evacuated the building and called in the police!  By the way,
when you get back from wherever you are, the chief of police and the dean
want to speak to you!"  she yelled as she slammed down the phone. 
     
"Oh, great!"  I thought.  "I have a feeling that when I go home, I'm going
to wind up expelled and locked in either the jail or the mental home! Oh,
well.  As long as it will help Mistress Janette, no sacrifice is too
large.  No if I can just find someone to tell me where I need to be." 

###

THE IMMORTAL BELOVEDS REJOIN THE RAVENETTES 
by Felicia Bollin

Time: 8am EST
Place: Toronto

"Where IS she?"  Catherine grumbled, glancing around.  "She has to be here
somewhere!  If she doesn't hurry up, she'll miss the Raven Coup!" 
Catherine and Ari had volunteered to go downstairs to the Sheraton lobby
at that ungodly hour only in order to keep a lookout for straggling
members. 

All of a sudden, Catherine gasped, grabbed her by the arm and hauled her
into the shadows.  The clerk looked on with interest as she hissed, "Ari,
look at that girl!  The one over by that post!  She--she's wearing
ORANGE!" 

Ari looked.  "So?  Toronto's the Home of the Maple Leafs, it's autumn,
orange is probably abounding in the store windows this time of year." 

They looked at each other and shuddered down to the tips of their
slingbacked toes. 

"Imagine Janette in orange,"  Catherine said.

"Ugh.  Don't.  You'll make yourself nuts.  You're not trying to suggest
that that might be a *Natpacker*, are you?  You know they don't like
seeing Nat in orange any more than we do." 

"I don't know.  That would certainly make it the perfect disguise,
wouldn't it?"  They both looked warily at the female. 

"*Where were you guys*?!"  Chanda demanded without preamble, distracting
them from the uglily-dressed woman as she rushed out of nowhere.  "I
didn't know what name we'd registered under!  I've been here for the past
two hours, seeing Cousins and Nick&Natpackers behind every seat!  That
stupid school account of mine--" 

"The suite is listed under 'Revenant Corporation.' I know, it kept
bouncing all my email back, telling me that your server wasn't a valid
address.  And I knew you'd only be home on the weekends, and we were just
going nuts!"  Ari said. 

"You missed all the fun.  Well, so did Ari, but I filled her in
retroactively.  Wait till you hear what stupid Tracy let slip in our
hearing, and what we did with the information,"  Catherine added, trying
to keep from saying the obvious, but it burst out.  "Girlfriend, when you
said you needed more time and money to dress like Janette, you weren't
kidding." 

Ari expected Chanda to blush furiously, but she took it in stride.  "Well,
I hate flying, so I had my uncle drive me, and all the way up from
Tennessee, you know, doesn't set too well with fancy fabrics.  So I
decided to wear this sweatsuit.  Aunt Ruth, the one who's financing this
trip, gave me enough money for new clothes.  I thought if we could find
the time, Heather Parks and I could go to that boutique--you know, the one
Janette used to frequent, where all the Ravenettes go to be outfitted. 
Heather's going to *need* new clothing." 

Ari took it off and hurriedly swathed her in it.  "For Raven's sake, cover
up before someone sees you looking like this." 

"What do you think?"  Chanda asked, voice muffled by the cowl. 

"Very nice, very 'Phantom.'  Now come on upstairs!!"  Catherine tugged.

"Grab a bag," Ari added practically, then nearly pitched forward on her
face as Chanda's duffle moved almost on its own.  "What's *in* here?" 

Chanda smiled.  "Oh, I brought my French homework, this little composition
I've been working on that I thought clueless old Nick could declaim to
Janette whenever they next meet.  You know he needs a little help in the
area of expressing his emotions." 

"When you look like that, who needs conversation."  Ari sighed as the
other two exchanged "uh-oh" looks.  Closet Knightie tendencies, just
terrific.  Bad enough Jillby wouldn't stop waxing eloquent over LaCroix's
posterior, now they had this to worry about.  What, oh what on earth, had
happened to Ari's Nick-picking lessons?  Chanda had thought she was doing
so well. 

"Yeah, that's what Janette says too," Catherine snickered, trying to snap
Ari out of it.  It worked.  The three laughed.  "What else is in here? 
French papers would hardly account for this weight." 

"Well, two hundred gallons of softsoap, for one thing."

"Soap?!"  Catherine and Ari exclaimed.  Chanda smiled mysteriously.

"You never know.  Let's see,"  Chanda ticked off on her fingers, "I
brought my complete set of tapes, in case we need any plot ideas." 

"Good thinking!"  Ari congratulated.

"And ten pounds of garlic.  And a lot of books.  For downtime."

"Downtime?"  Catherine wrinkled her Tracy-like forehead.  "You haven't
been posting a lot have you."  It was a statement, not a question. 

"Nope, too busy,"  Chanda said blissfully.  "Plotting, and all of that,
you know." 

"Well, you couldn't possibly have more luggage than *she* brought," 
Catherine sneered a little at Ari. 

"Only *three* of them!"  Ari huffed.

"What's in yours?"  Chanda asked.

"Oh, just the essentials--toiletries, cosmetics, perfume--"

"Four kinds?"  Catherine asked with interest.

"For different moods!"

"Oh, of course."

"A little stash of chocolate-covered Kona beans, some little day dresses,
some evening wear--"  Ari continued. 

"A *bullwhip*?!"  Catherine all but screeched.

Ari paused for a moment.

"Well, not to *wear*, silly," she offered.

Catherine looked as if she seriously contemplated strangulation.

"Why, what did you bring?"  Ari asked defensively.  "Nothing but the
clothes on your back, I assume."  She turned to Chanda.  "She only packed
*one*, but it just about made me leave my arms back on the garage floor
when I went to hoist it into the trunk!  It's not my fault that I'm a
high-maintenance kinda gal, really.  I've *tried* to skimp, believe you
me, but all that happens is I break out and my hair starts to resemble
straw.  Why, if Janette were to show up right now and volunteer to turn
me, I'd jump in an instant.  I could have 50 bachelors' degrees by now---
French, voice, psych, filmmaking, what-have-you.  Besides, I even already
have a fang."  Ari lifted the corner of her lip to show the other two. 
"Why, as a matter of fact, the other day I was babysitting in some of my
spare time from the library, and the little four-year-old leaned over my
back to roughhouse and said in this awe-inspired voice, 'Wow, you have
sharp teeth!'" 

Chanda sounded hushed and not a little awed.  "Do we *know* where Janette
is?!" 

"I'm not sure, but if anyone could find her, it would be Susan.  If she'd
*contact* anyone, it would be Susan."  Catherine tried to speak in a blase
fashion, but her voice shook a little with excitement, and Ari almost
dropped a bag.  None of the three could forget that they had never had the
privilege of *meeting* Janette in the flesh, unlike nine-tenths of the
other Ravens. And oh, did they hope to rectify this someday.

They reached the suite (no penthouse, but close), and used the passcard
again. 

The door wouldn't open.

Catherine rattled the knob impatiently, putting her eye to the peephole.
"Oh, good *night*, here I was, praying that we wouldn't have to wake
anyone up." 

"I wonder who it will be,"  Chanda added.  "Cynthia, Sheryl, or Jill
Bradley?" 

Ari crossed her fingers and prayed fervently one more time as she slid the
card through the magnetic sensor.  This time, it lit up and turned to
green. 

The three Immortal Beloveds cautiously opened the door.

"*_Sacrebleu_*!"  gasped a voice, leaping towards them.  "Don't move!!"

***

"You almost got bucketed!!"  The person who had yelled in French was
standing about a foot away from Ari, Catherine, and Chanda, clutching a
short silk robe at her neckline, rubbing blue eyes, and glaring/squinting
at them. "Did you forget about the booby trap we put on top of the
doorjamb?" 

Ari and Catherine remembered at the same time.  A nice bucket of Blood
Lite sat, ready to douse the first faction member who was clueless enough
to try to pick the Raven suite lock!  Sheryl, the Ravenette talking to
them, climbed up on top of the chair and carefully took down the bucket. 
"We almost ruined your luggage--- ?"  She looked swift query at Chanda,
who stuck out her hand. 

"Chanda Keith."

"Sheryl Bottner, nearsighted and sleepy Ravenette.  Could you guys have
made any more noise?"  she grumped, resting fists on hips and looking
around the floor.  "Hmmm.  We might have to rent another suite for the
luggage.  Cyn and Jillby are still sleeping--- I hope."  She looked at
Ari, who was setting up something on the floor.  "What *are* you doing?" 

Ari flipped hair out of her eyes.  "I forgot, I was trying to find time to
print out a copy of the Ravenettes' dossier for us to read, so we don't
have to keep booting up the computer in order to remember stuff like what
everyone wants to eat at the next big Victory party we have.  Would you
believe it--- I tried to do it before I left home, but my parents got
upset.  They are so clueless!  I'll bet they're even worse than your mom,
Chanda.  The printer went for so long, my father even asked me if I was
trying to print out a copy of the New Testament!!  Philistines." 

"Erm--- yes.  Quite."  Sheryl pulled the edges of her peignoir together
once more.  "I'm going back to bed.  By the way--- I kept meaning to ask
you guys. How did you find out that Cousin Jamie kidnapped that *alleged*
picture of Janette?" 

Ari and Catherine just grinned.  Sheryl rolled her eyes and struck her
red-gold pate.  " 'I'm a *good* cop'!  Of course." 

"You knew she couldn't keep her mouth shut, didn't you?  She ran into the
precinct around five-thirty and she was so clueless she didn't even wonder
who I might have been,"  said Catherine.  "Maybe she thought I was a
suspect, for all I know.  She caught sight of me and spent twenty minutes
jabbering on about how much I looked like her!  Can you imagine?  Then she
oh-so-obligingly strolled over to Nick's desk, plucked the photograph out,
and said, 'Well, I need to take this picture of my partner's somewhere---
I promised it to this really nice tattooed girl for a scavenger hunt.' So
it was easy for me to figure out how I could turn it to our advantage." 

"Oh."  Sheryl smiled.  "Glad I cleared that up."  She started for her
rooms once more.  "Oh, before I forget.  Tara is en route.  She requests
that we try to keep a pot of coffee brewing at all times here.  And don't
plan anything for the next couple of days that can't be done in under an
hour. We'll need to be keeping close watch on the Raven, and there's
redecorating to supervise of course."  She thought for a moment.  "Tami is
somewhere sleeping off the effects of what she and Miklos will only refer
to as 'that unpleasant Mai Tai incident';  Susan was just quietly
communing with her email until she got this sudden incredible urge to
visit the Toronto Zoo fom out of nowhere.  I wanted to make her take a
bodyguard, but she insisted on going alone.  Lorelei is looking into a
shipper to contract with for some *good* liquor for the bar, no doubt
browsing in every Goth furniture place she finds along the way for some
advance ideas.  Heather is coming in sometime soon, and she'll doubtlessly
want to go shopping to rectify matters until the jokers that did it decide
they're going to give her clothes back. Kathy went off for fencing
practice and to see if she could set something up in case we decide we
want to make LaCroix and Vachon go a few rounds _avec les epees_ for
amusement.  Though of course we know *Janette* could probably beat Vachon
at fencing.  Jasmine got this sudden incredible attack of *something* and
ran off, muttering something that sounded like "Civilization at last!' and
brandishing her ATM card.  She hasn't been seen since.  David and mj are
dreaming up evil things with software.  And Vicki--- I'm not quite sure
what she's doing, but whatever it is, it should be spectacular." 

"Okay!"  The three saluted.  Sheryl disappeared.  Ari, Catherine, and
Chanda all stood around as the laser printer churned out things, looking
at each other. 

Chanda was the first to break the silence.  "Well, I suppose I could
unpack." 

"Don't get too comfortable,"  Ari warned.  "The Nick&Natpack will not be
idle for long.  At least our--ah, petite, manageable size means that we're
going to be thinking and acting like one mind far more often than they
will. Before they do anything, they have to clear it with all their
members. There's no saying that all forty of the N&Npack are going to show
up for war, but some of *our* members are going to be in touch with us via
modem anyway.  You may want to polish up that composition." 

"Sure.  I'd like you guys to read it beforehand anyway."

"We should probably ask Sheryl to read it.  She may know lots of nice
interesting French anatomical terms Nick could throw on in there to
impress Janette."  Catherine wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

"Real French people probably don't understand Janette, though.  I mean,
her speech patterns are going to be medieval, right?" Ari had always
wondered about that. 

"Probably not.  I would say she's fairly up-to-date.  Nat's not the only
one with brains.  I mean, at least we know Janette reads.  She knows about
'The Picture of Dorian Gray', and Ernest Hemingway, and so forth.  She's
probably quite literate.  I mean, you couldn't stand around for six
hundred years and do nothing but listen to LaCroix and Nick argue." Chanda
remarked. 

The three girls shuddered again as one.

"Heaven forfend.  I think we'd better listen to a little music to get that
bad taste of that imagery out of our mouths.  Anyone have any objection to
Renaissance madrigals, Sarah McLachlan, Depeche Mode, Nine Inch Nails,
Mary Chapin Carpenter, classic Motown, early Madonna, Melissa Etheridge,
or Pops Plays Puccini?"  Ari read from the eclectic assortment around the
suite table.  "Well, the *new* new Raven will certainly be an interesting
musical venture." 

Since it was such an early hour, they decided on the madrigals, at an
extremely low level.  Chanda decided to clean up as well as unpack, so Ari
found her an outfit to make do until she went shopping.  It was black, at
least.  Comfort be damned, Janette would not have allowed sweat*pants* in
her club.  Anything else, but not that. 

Looking at the music spread out on the table, though, gave Ari an idea. 
She ran it past Catherine, who scrabbled in her own bag until she found
what she was looking for.  Thank the heavens for the person who had
inaugurated the fanfic books-on-taping spree.  The Immortal Beloved
ace-in-the-hole. 

"You guys are really evil," Chanda said happily.  "I picked the right
faction." 

###

PLOT TWISTS (Part 1a)
by Wyndi and Diana

Time: 11:00am EST
Place:  an unnamed Hotel in Toronto

Wyndi woke up bleary-eyed.  There was sun streaming through a window that
wouldn't-quite-close, and she blinked a few times, sleepily, and reached
out ot wrap her fuzzy-blanket closer... but it wasn't there!  A bit
alarmed, she woke up a little more and looked aorund.  It was very tan... 
It looked like some sort of sleazy hotel that one could find at three in
the morning to get a room in...  funny, that's just what they had done. 
She looked over to the other bed where Di was still sleeping peacefully,
and forced herself out of bed.  Reclothing herself, she dug out the bag o'
tricks she had gotten in the mail just yesterday.  She hadn't had a chance
to look through it thoroughly, and so was taking this chance. 

The shackles she set on the floor nearby, along with the chain.  A couple
of collars, some more chain, several lengths of leather, tastefully black,
and a letter.  She looked at it in confusion.  It said "My dearest thrall"
across the front in runes, whioch ment it could only be Master who had put
it in there...  Wyndi hastily got a pillow from the motel bed and set it
on the floor in front of the bag.  Kneeling on it gingerly, her knee still
wasn't in tip top shape, she was finally able to open the letter. 

   My dear thrall (He had written in scrawled script),

   I hope that you are having fun in Toronto.  (Toronto?  How had He known
   where she was going??) Feel free to buy yourself some suitable garments. 
   I hope to be able to meet you some day, and you should be suitably
   dressed. 

   I miss you greatly

   (She smiled at His signature, grown so familiar over the months.)

Buy suitable clothing...  That was practically an order to go shopping. 

"Di!  Di, wake up."  Wyndi got up and threw the blanket onto the bed,
tucking the letter under her shirt, next to the skin.  She looked at the
clock.  "Di, it's almost 11:00!  We're in Toronto!  Come on, wake up!" 
She shook her friend until Di finally stirred. 

"Whaaaa?" Di said, still half asleep.

###

I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS (a)
by Sharon Himmanen

Time: Morning
Place: A Toronto jail cell

Sharon jerked awake from a light sleep for about the twentieth time for
the night, and finally decided to give up.  Pulling herself upright she
massaged her neck. 

Then she stopped in mid yawn.

Did they serve people coffee in these jails?

This was a bad thing.  There was another human being in the cell with her.
They'd brought her in last night on a drunk and disorderly and she'd spent
several hours singing Carpenter's tunes at the top of her lungs. 

Still, Sharon didn't feel right about offing her in a fit of caffeine
withdrawal.  At least she'd known the words to the songs, even if she
couldn't carry a tune. 

She wasn't hungry--the NatPack had brought her dinner, and Nat had dropped
by with a couple burgers at around midnight.  Jamie had also brought her
some food earlier, and Christine had dropped by late last night with some
fresh sushi.  Not bad all things considered, but now the lack of caffeine
was becoming a real concern.  The lack of food wouldn't be a concern for a
couple more hours. 

Rising from the bed, she walked over to the bars and tried to look out.
There was a guard at the far end, and Sharon wondered if he'd get her some
coffee.  She doubted it, an stood there in the cell trying not to panic
when a thought struck her. 

"Hey!" she called, getting the guards attention.  He took his time walking
down the short hallway between the holding cells and stood in front of her
expectantly.  "I didn't get my phone call," she said. 

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"I didn't get my phone call," she repeated.  "I get one phone call and I
didn't get it.  I'd like to make it now please."  A couple members of the
NatPack had been there when she'd been arrested, and assured her that
they'd take care of bail as soon as it was set.  At the time there hadn't
been any need to call anyone. 

He gaped at her for a moment, then shrugged.  "I'll check with the
sargeant," was all he said, before turning and shuffling back down the
hallway. 

Sharon turned and began kicking her heels in the cell, until a small noise
in the corner caught her attention.  Her cell mate was up, and Sharon
thought it only fair to warn her of the impending danger. 

"You're life's in danger," she said without preamble.

The woman lifted a hand to her forehead and mumbled something fairly
incoherent. 

Amused, Sharon sat on the edge of the bunk.  "Tell me something," she
said. When the woman didn't respond, she continued "How would you go about
tormenting someone who has an oral fixation?" 

This got the woman's attention, and she opened her eyes to stare at Sharon
in shock before starting to speak. 

In horror, Sharon held up her hand.  "Scratch that!  This *is* still a PG
rated list."  Abruptly she rose from the bunk. 

Luckily the guard returned and unlocked the cell.  "OK," he said.  You get
one call.  Make it snappy." 

*

"Benny?" Sharon said to the sleepy voice on the phone.  "Benny, wake up
and listen carefully.  I need three things."  She listened for a moment.
"Yeah, I know.  Don't worry!  Listen! 

"First, get out your phone book and call a local deli near here.  Have
them deliver a couple cups of coffee.  *This* is very important.  They
told me I only get one with breakfast, and you *know* that's not enough." 
She paused.  "I'm in jail, OK.  Long story.  Don't ask. 

"Second, that little job I had for you.  Well, she's here, too.  She came
by to see me last night.  She was bragging about staying in a five-star
hotel here in the city so she shouldn't be too hard to find.  Everything
else should go according to plan. 

"Fine, fine!" Sharon said impatiently.  "One last thing.  I need you to
find someone for me.  She's here in Toronto.  Her name is Jamie M.R.
Randell.  She's a cousin.  When you find her, call me.  *Don't* let her
see you.  You know how to reach me." 

Sharon listened for a few more minutes.  "Cool!" she said, grinning.  "I
should be out of here in a couple of hours, but I don't want to take any
chances.  I'll be incommunicado probably until early afternoon, but you
know how to find me.  Later!" 

With a contented sigh she hung up and looked over at the sargeant sitting
across from her who was looking at her with a puzzled expression. 

"I love it when a plan comes together," Sharon said with a smile. 

###

ENCOUNTER IN EATON CENTRE
by Cousin Deborah and Diane Echelbarger

Time: Morning
Place: Toronto

By the time she'd finished eating the generous breakfast their landlady
provided, Diane had decided she was over-reacting to the meeting with
Cousin Candice in the park.  After all, LaCroix hadn't recognized her last
night, right? So she was probably still safe. 

Since she wasn't in a faction, she didn't really have anywhere special she
needed to be, so she figured she might as well sight-see after breakfast. 

Camera bag slung from her shoulder, she caught a trolley downtown.  They
had just passed Coxwell Street when she noticed the woman seated across
the aisle. 
 
She was relatively ordinary, and Diane probably would have overlooked her
except for two things.  She seemed to be trying to watch Diane without
being obvious about it, and on her lapel was a sword pin identical to the
one LaCroix had worn for most of second season. 

<Get a grip on yourself, Diane,> the listmember told herself sternly. <You
know *you* could find a copy of that pin, if you wanted to.  It's probably
just coincidence.> Even so, she kept her camera close, and when she got
off at Church Street she used the excuse of re-tying her shoe to see if
the woman with the sword pin followed her off. 

The woman stayed on the streetcar, and Diane decided she's just imagined
it.  Really, she was worrying over nothing.  Shrugging off her fears, she
turned up Church Street.  She was eager to see how the special low-light
film she'd loaded her camera with would work for photographing the
stained-glass windows in St. James' Church. 

Two hours, three churches, and four rolls of film later, Diane decided it
was time for lunch.  As she left the church, she bumped into a teenager in
the doorway.  It wasn't until she was half-way to Eaton Centre that she
realized she'd seen the same girl in St. James', kneeling in the back
pew...and she was wearing a CERK shirt under her ski jacket. 

Diane entered the downtown megamall and took an escalator to the second
floor. A burger sounded good, and Toby's Goodeats could always be counted
on to serve a medium-rare burger *really* medium-rare. 

When she got there, there were quite a few people ahead of her, but she
decided the food was good enough to be worth the wait.  She got in line to
give the hostess her name and overheard a woman ask how long a wait it
would be. 

"45 minutes or so." the waitress replied without looking up.

"Moooooommm," the teenager next to the woman wailed, "I haven't eaten
anything all day. 45 minutes is like, eternity." 

"And eternity is too long to wait for a table," a voice whispered in
Diane's ear. 

She jumped and whirled toward the voice.  Her camera bag flew outward and
almost hit the slightly taller woman standing behind her--the *Cousin*
standing behind her. 

Righting herself after ducking the flying photographic equipment, Cousin
Deborah laughed. "Jeeze, Diane! I didn't mean to scare the daylights out
of you. It was a joke. Try some decaf." 

"What are you doing here?" Diane demanded, and immediately regretted it. 
If they knew she knew... 

"Getting some lunch. What do *you* normally do here?" Deborah asked,
reasonably enough.  "Look, I came in a little while ago and put my name on
the waiting list. Care to join me? 

"Are you alone?" Diane nervously glanced around for other cousins. There
had been that girl on the escalator, with the tattoos... Jamie? 

"For now." Deborah was peering over the hostess's shoulder at the list of
names. "My name is next on the list and I asked for a booth. Plenty of
room." 

"Room for who?  Who're you expecting?" Diane backed up a half-step,
preparing to bolt. 

"Nobody.  Jeeze, I just meant that we'll both fit." Deborah gave her a
long look before telling the waitress that her party was now two people.
When she turned back, she frowned slightly.  "Are you OK? I mean, you
seem...jumpy." 

"I'm fine," Diane snapped.  She licked her lips nervously as it occurred
to her that an angry Cousin was much more dangerous than an (apparently)
friendly one.  "It's just--well, it's been a long day.  That's all.  Sure,
I'll sit with you.  I appreciate the offer. Really.  I just thought that
you might be--well--meeting someone." Realizing she was babbling, Diane
shut up and glanced nervously sideways at the suspiciously friendly
Cousin, to see how she was reacting. 

"Nope. I'm on my own for a bit," Deb assured her easily.  "I'll hook up
with some folks tonight. In the meantime, I thought I'd take a walk and
suddenly had the most incredible urge for a burger. Anyway, I heard the
burgers here were pretty good." 

The hostess called "Meinkuff?" and Cousin Deb rolled her eyes. "That's me. 
I think.  Sounds like they got our table ready. How lucky that we ran into
each other." 

"Yeah," Diane agreed, glumly.  "My luck's really incredible that way
today."

They took their seats and their waitperson, a buff-looking college
student, handed them menus.  When they'd placed their orders, Deb sipped
her Diet Coke and inquired, politely, "That's a pretty impressive camera.
You must be pretty into the whole photography thing.  I'm hopeless with it
myself

"Not really."  Diane relaxed fractionally, but shifted the camera bag onto
her lap anyway.  "I've only had it about a year.  Jennie Hayes borrows it
a lot; she showed me the ropes."  <Maybe they don't know,> she told
herself, hopefully.  <I mean, there're probably *dozens* of Cousins in
town.  Running into *two* I know isn't terribly unlikely.> "I was adding
the local church windows to my stained-glass collection." 

"Oh, then you must have gone to St. James, right?"

Diane glared at her lunch-mate and leaned as far back as the booth would
let her.  <I *knew* it!  They're following me!  How did they find out?>
she thought, mind racing like a squirrel in a cage.  She forced her
growing panic under control and admitted, reluctantly, "Yeah, I was there. 
This morning.  How did you know?" 

"Well I figured you'd go there. That was the church in 'For I Have
Sinned", right? And it *is* only a couple of blocks from here.  Why
wouldn't you go there?" 

The burgers arrived then, and the two concentrated on their food and their
own thoughts. Their minds were not all that far apart actually. Diane was
sure that sharing a table with Deborah had been a mistake. She just *knew*
she was being set up and she kept checking for any sign that a trap was
about to be sprung.  Deborah, munching thoughtfully on a french fry, was
wondering if lunching with Diane was such a good idea. She was obviously
nervous about something. She kept glancing over her shoulder and at the
door. Every little question put her on the defensive. <I wonder what she's
up to> the cousin thought. After a minute or two Deborah asked "So how's
the War going for you?" 

"What's that supposed to mean?  I'm unaffiliated, remember?"  Diane glared
from behind her burger.  "Why should I be doing anything? Maybe I'm just
*watching*.  I don't get involved in your stupid little factional
squabbles!"  She took a huge bite of the teriyaki burger and chewed
fiercely. 

"Ok, chill."  <Did she leave her Lithium at home?> "I just assumed that
you were involved since you were here, but I guess I was wrong. Where are
you staying?" 

"Yeah, like you don't already know." When Deborah looked thoroughly
confused, Diane continued "Ask Candice; *she* knows everything." 

"Diane, I'm sorry if the question upsets you. Though, it does seems
strange that you're being so secretive." 

Diane couldn't think of a graceful way out of that. "I'm rooming with a
Merc, if you *must* know." 

"Oh, well, some of my best friends are Mercs. Are you done? I'm gonna ask
the waiter for the check and then we can get outta here." 

"We?" Diane squeaked.

"Well unless you want to photograph the kitchen here, yeah. I thought we
would both be leaving." Deborah smiled, so Diane would know it was a joke. 
" If you want, I've got time to hang out. I was going to go check out the
*Tower*. Wanna go?" 

"I *don't* think so.  I'm not suicidal, y'know." Diane replied with a
sniff.  "And I've read the first War, too." 

Deborah racked her brain for *some* idea of what her lunch-mate meant by
*that* remark.  <She thinks I'm going to haul her off in a hearse?> She
dismissed the idea.  <Nah, couldn't be.  But I'd bet my Cousin affiliation
pin she's up to *something*.>

They split the check and walked out, into the crowded concourse. "Listen,"
Deborah said, "I know lunch was a little rushed, but we should get
together sometime.  I mean, if you're not active in the War, you have
plenty of time to spare, right?  We could---"  she tried quickly to think
of *something* that they'd both like-- "oh, go antiquing at Harbourfront. 
It would be fun." 

"Oh, I suppose *you're* gonna give me a business card, too?"

"Oh, well... I *can*."  Deborah rummaged around in her bag until she came
up with one. "Here ya go. Listen, I hope you find a lot of good pictures
to add to your collection. Maybe I'll see ya later. Bound to, actually."
With a wave, Deborah walked off toward the escalators and Yonge Street. 

Diane kept her back to the wall until the Cousin disappeared into the
crowd, wondering what she meant by that last remark.  It sounded awfully
ominous.  "So, *they* want me to go to Harbourfront, huh?" she muttered to
herself.  "Well, sorry, Cuz, but *I* don't get caught *that* easily."  She
debated taking to the underground tunnels for a moment.  It would be
easier to lose someone down there, with all the side-passages and exits
and twisting corridors.  Then again, just about *anybody* could be waiting
down there, where the sun never came.... 

She decided against it.  Decided, too, that her afternoon trip to the
Necropolis, to photograph old tombstones, was *definitely* out.  If
LaCroix was after her--<HOW did he find out?>--the last place she was
going to go was a 145 year old cemetery.  <He probably has a two-room tomb
out there!>

Suddenly, she knew what to do. Toronto Island!  She could rent a bike,
ride the antique carousel, gather color for that Nat-has-a-picnic fanfic
she was working on--and there were lots of empty spaces out there.  It
would be *really* hard for anyone to follow her, and not be noticed.  She
should be safe there for the afternoon. 

She scurried out of the mall, using the stairs and keeping constant watch
for following Cousins. 

###

I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS (b)
by Sharon Himmanen

Time: Almost noon
Place: Nat's apartment

Sharon rapped loudly on the door of Nat's apartment.  She no longer had
her keys, having given them to Jennie when she'd been arrested, or she
would have just walked in.  She heard cautious, furtive movements behind
the door and rapped again, four times, loudly. 

"It's Sharon," she heard Amy say from inside.  "She *always* knocks that
way." 

"Better check though," another voice said.

"I'm hungry!" Sharon called through the door, which swung aside instantly. 

"You're hungry?" Jennie asked brightly.  "Do you like fish?"

###

THE RED QUEEN ENTERS THE FRAY
by Priscilla Berry Shaw

Time: Evening
Place: Toronto

Priscilla stood watching the airport luggage carrousel going around. Her
luggage had been one of the last on - she hoped that meant it would be one
of the first off - no such luck.

This had already been a very strange week. Her consulting company was
responsible for delivering the final release of the new electronic
brokerage software to their client Charles Schwab & Co. The ridiculously
tight schedules and last minute bugs had led to the inevitable
extraordinary effort for completion. All week she had been working 18
hours a day, sleeping on a bed role in her office (thank God the place had
showers), and living on delivered food.

It was with a weary but satisfied sigh that she walked through the front
door and dropped her purse, briefcase and laptop on the table. They had
made it, the software worked and Schwab was impressed and happy. But for
now, all she could think about was curling up in front of the fire with a
chilled glass of white port and a plate of grav lox on pumpernickel.

After building the fire, she headed to the 'fridge for the port and
salmon. Priscilla opened the door and blinked. She closed the door and
then reopened it and blinked again. "This job must really be getting to
me," she thought. She closed the door and opened the freezer and then
slowly closed that as well. "Either I'm cracking up or someone has stuffed
both my freezer and fridge with Q-Tips - thousands and thousands of
Q-Tips. Why would anyone want to chill Q-Tips? And what did they do with
my Fonseca?" She opened the pantry door - and it too was stuffed with
Q-Tips. In fact, every dish, pot, pan and cupboard in the kitchen was
filled with Q-Tips.

Priscilla went to her neglected answering machine and pushed the play
button. Over 60 messages were in the queue from just the last four days.
Included in these was a message from Cousin Celeste - "Hey Red Queen -
there is a war brewing up Toronto way, I suggest you get up here pronto."
There were other messages from assorted cousins that amounted to the same
thing.

Well that might explain why there was cotton and cardboard instead of
comestibles in her larder. But it certainly didn't make her happy. After
all the effort she had put into collecting ingredients from all over the
world, she was not amused at the conversion to white fluffy sticks.

If Toronto was where she must go to get to the bottom of this, then
Toronto it was. She picked up the phone and dialed the person in Toronto
that she dealt with the most - another Schwab consultant. "Hello Feliks, I
need your help."

Priscilla went on to describe the situation and somehow ended up
discussing new herb varieties. "Definitely Feliks, I want to get a cutting
of your new dwarf lovage - if I come to Toronto I can smuggle it back to
San Francisco past the plant police on my return flight. Now, please call
the Schwab Gods and insist we have to have a face to face extended
meeting......No, I don't know how long yet.....I wouldn't want to put you
out Feliks, I'll stay at a hotel....No, the Royal York is nice, but a bit
massive. I really not that interested in networking right now....yes, I
know, how disgraceful of me....why don't you have them book me into the
Edward? In fact, why don't you use that wonderful persuasiveness of yours
to have them get me a suite and a preapproved large expense account, I
think I'm going to need it, Chuck can certainly afford it and after this
release, he ows me..... Thank you dear heart, I'll see you tomorrow. So
here she was, in Toronto in November, not having the foggiest notion of
just what she was about to get her self into, but undoubtedly, she would
get herself quite into the thick of things.

Priscilla caught her bags off the luggage conveyor and headed for the car
rental counter. Within minutes she was headed out of the airport with a
detailed map showing her where the hotel and the Raven were. How
thoughtful of Feliks to arrange a Mercedes for her.

After checking into the hotel, Priscilla headed for the Raven. By-passing
the long line waiting to get in, she headed for the front door. She
provided a bit of a contrast from the other patrons. Priscilla was dressed
in a clean line, classically styled black wool suit, very expensive and
exquisitely tailored. "Cousins have a much more subtle sense of style then
Ravenettes," she mused. A bouncer barred her from entering and she merely
raised one eyebrow at him. He seemed unsure what to do for a moment and
then waved her in. "These Puritan looks certainly come in handy
sometimes," thought Priscilla, "either they think you very innocent, very
prudish, very snobbish, or very commanding." She usually let people come
to there own conclusions and played it accordingly as suited her purpose.

As she stood surveying the club, a sleek voice asked if he could do
anything for her. Priscilla turned and this time when the eyebrow shot up
it really was because her Puritan side was a bit taken back. A very well
built, very scantily clad redheaded man was being obsequiously attentive.
She hadn't realized you could actually get a tarten on something that
abreviated.  After a moment, Priscilla composed herself enough to hide the
female chauvinist smile that was forming on her face. "My word," she
thought, "what is Uncle up to now? I know he never does anything without
an ulterior motive, but *what* is this about? Is he going through a Roman
homesick period? Well, this is certainly a change for the Raven." "I'm
looking for....a group of relatives I'm suppose to meet here. Is LaCroix
about?"

"Ahh, you must be with the group in the back. Just follow me."

"With pleasure sweetheart," thought Priscilla, but she only smiled and
retained her sense of decorum.

At the far end of the Raven Priscilla swept pass her guide into a much
larger gathering of Cousins then she had expected.

###

YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE (a)
by Laura B. Waskey

Time: noon
Place: The Raven

As Cousin Laura hung up the phone in the back room at The Raven, a pleased
smile, no make that a self-satisified smile, came over her face. 

"I got them!", she yelled to no one in particular, and the few Cousins who
were still hanging around the Raven, didn't even pay attention to her
outburst. They all had their own schemes and plotting to do. 
   
As she walked out into the main area of The Raven, she thought about the
reason why she was in Toronto in the first place. Of course, when Uncle
calls, you come, but really she was here to capture and question the
possible culprits of the "incident" that had occurred on Halloween night.
Poor Uncle, to be attacked in his home and place of business, some people
never learn: you don't mess with LaCroix! Oh well, that was their problem
now and they would have to deal with the consequences of their actions! 
No innocent until you are proven guilty with us Cousins! You are guilty
until we decide you're not.  Gosh, she pitied Leslie and Jill. Uncle had
specified that she find those two particular Natpackers because he had
seen them in the Raven on the night in question. Maybe they had done it,
maybe not. But, it would be fun to see Uncle "questioning" about the
incident.  Laura loved a good inquisition and Uncle could put the fear of
God into people and make them spill their guts. All with the right
*persuasion*, of course. Laura had seen Uncle do just that in the past.
Remember that poor man from "Dead Air"? Ah, torture was fun! 
  
Now down to business. Laura had located Leslie and Jill. She had only been
in Toronto about 12 hours, but her contacts in law enforcement had paid
off. Her friend, Linda from Border Patrol had been the one on the phone.
It seems that Ms. Jill and Leslie had flown into Toronto sometime this
morning.  Because they had to show I.D.to enter Canada, they had been
identified and followed out of the airport. All because Laura had some
friends put out an APB on them.Which meant that anytime their I.D. was
shown and put into Boder Patrol's regular border crossing computer(which
was kept to identify how many people crossed the US/Canadian border in a
day) that a little while later an alarm would come across the computer
screen and state that the persons had an APB out on them.  This particular
APB stated that the suspects were not to be detained, but followed to
their destination. That is when Laura would take over. Two Canadian Border
Patrol guards had followed the two women back to an apartment in Toronto
and had called Linda to give her the address. Linda in return, had called
Laura at The Raven and had passed alond the information. It paid sometimes
to be a former police officer, having friends in all the right places and
with access to certain information! 
  
This mission had been given to her directly from Uncle, so she would do it
alone. No other Cousins would be needed to help her capture Jill and
Leslie.  In fact, Laura had it all planned out. She would wait outside the
apartment and when Jill and Leslie came out of the building, she would
grap them and bring the directly to Uncle.  Now, all she had to do was
gather up her "weapons" and handcuffs and get into her rental car and
drive to that apartment building. 
   
An evil grin came across her face and some Cousins in the room moved away
from her. Cousin Laura was on a mission and nothing could stop her!!! 

###

A REVELATION
by Perri Smith

Time: 1:30pm EST

A few of them woke up early and even managed to talk to Nick, and to
Natalie when she came by with the NatPack. The rest woke up slowly, one by
one. After all, they 'd been awake for two days and almost none of them
were on the local time zone. But one by one, they stumbled into
conciousness. 

The three kidnappees stayed in bed; by unspoken accord, the others let
them. they'd also gotten first showers the night before, but that was more
for everyone else's survival than theirs. Nick, too, had gone back to bed
after Natalie had left, muttering something about 'coffins.'. 

The late risers made a minimum of noise getting breakfast ready -
actually, it was past noon, so it was more like lunch. But they were
hungry enough, even after the souvlaki and pizza the night before, to eat
almost anything. 

No one talked about anything in particular; gossip about various faction
members was the order of the day for those who were coherent. 

"We're almost out of food," someone commented. 

"We didn't get much," Amy shrugged, stifling a yawn. "We'll have to go out
again." 

"Ummm," Perri said in something that resembled agreement. Her eyes weren't
open, it was hard to tell. She'd been one of the last to sleep and one of
the last to get up. 

Across the room, Scottie groaned and rolled from her sleeping bag. "I need
a cigarette," she said before *her* eyes were open. 

"Outside," Catherine said, "Unless they're candy." 

"Does she look like a Ravenette?" Corvia cracked.

"Eh?" Perri asked, looking up (sort of.)

"Hadn't you hear about that?" Paula asked. "It's been all over the list." 

Perri started to look (more) alert. "No, I've been, ah, a little busy. I
was on digest anyway. What about candy cigarettes?" 

"That's what the Ravenettes got for their surprise," Catherine said. "The
NatPackers got coffins, we got bricks, they got candy cigarettes. I hear
LJC was spitting nails." 

Which was actually a pretty good description of what Perri was doing.
"Candy cigarettes?" she yelped. "Merde! Merdemerdemerde! She stood right
here and lied to me! Twice! Merde!" 

"What?" Amy asked in total confusion. No one else was doing any better. 

Perri cursed for a couple more minutes before calming down enough to spit
out, "We were wrong. It wasn't Cousins who attacked us the first times." 

"Then who?" Scottie asked, forgetting about the cigarette in the shock of
seeing Perri coherent so soon after waking. 

"None of you were at Dead of Winter II, when me and my roommates decided
to play a prank on LJC and replace her cigarettes with candy. She faked us
out by not bringing any, but we stuck then in her luggage anyway." 

"And?"

"I was rooming with Amy Hull and Jennie Hayes."

It took a second to sink in. "The NatPack?" Amy finally said.

"Yeah."

"I thought you were going to have to be convinced of that. And they got
attacked, too." Maryann pointed out. 

"I know they said they were," Perri said grimly. "But did anyone see
coffins in their rooms?  And everyone else has been yelling their heads
off on the list. I haven't heard the NatPack screaming, have any of you?" 

Heads shook all around. "Besides," Perri added with a flash of humor,
"they're about the only ones besides me who'd take LJC on personally. No
one else dares anymore." 

"This is a stretch," Catherine warned slowly. 

"Yeah. But it's true."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Perri said. "But I'm going to find out. And get revenge in
blood." 

"We've gotta tell Nick."

"No," Catherine stopped a few Knighties who seemed inclined to race up the
stairs. "If it was the NatPack, Natalie was in on it. I don't want him to
know that yet. Not yet." 

Perri and Amy nodded agreement. "Let's go," Perri said, starting to get
up. "I want to kill Jennie personally." 

And again, Catherine stopped her. "i have a better idea. Instead of
getting mad, let's get even." 

And after she told them, even Perri had to admit it was inspired. "You
should have been a Cousin, Cath." 

"If the other factions have figured this out, they'll be in ove their
heads in attacks," Paula commented. 

"Yeah," Perri smiled, "but this'll take a while to set up anyway. It can
wait." 

###

GOT A Q-TIP IN MY BOOT (BIE-DI-EIE)
by AC Chapin

Time: 2:14 pm
Place: College Park, MD

There were Q-Tips in her boots.  Now, this wouldn't really have been such
a problem had AC not possessed quite so many boots. Four pairs of Doc
Martins and faux Doc Martins, one pair brown suede, two pair black suede
knee-length (one plain, one lace-up) two pair purple suede (one half, one
full length