Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 01/27
Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2002 22:04:14 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: FKFanfic-L@lists.psu.edu
CC: NNFic@yahoogroups.com

Art Imitating Life

January 2002
Karen Gunther

Disclaimers: The following story is a work of fiction inspired by 'Forever
Knight', which is the property of Sony/Columbia/Tri-Star... although they
don't seem to appreciate it as much as the fans do! No profit is being
generated and I promise to put Nick and Natalie back when I am done!

Permission is granted to archive at the ravenawards archive, fkfanfic.com,
Fanfic2 and the forever knight ftp archive. It will also be available on my
story page (www.angelfire.com/tx5/kannegun/archive.htm) after being posted
to
the list. Anyone else who wishes to put this story on their web site, please
ask first!!

Special thanks to my beta-reader- Stephane Plante. Thanks for filling in the
blank spots and encouraging me!

Authors note: The story is set between first and second season. Nick and
Schanke are still working out of the 27th precinct with Stonetree as their
captain... LaCroix is thought to be dead...

CHAPTER ONE

"What is this place?" Detective Don Schanke stared open-mouthed at the faux
stone and mortar that had transformed the ordinary looking warehouse into a
castle of medieval proportions. The room was complete with artificial
lighting that was realistic enough to appear as if the sun was high in the
sky. When last Don had looked, the sky was covered with thick gray clouds
that barely let the sun's rays peeped through. Toronto in February was not
as
clear and bright as the interior of this warehouse would make it seem.

"It's called a movie set," responded a uniformed officer with obvious
sarcasm. "And when you are finished gawking, the body is that way." He
pointed toward an adjacent area, in what appeared to be a garden.

"Yeah, yeah, gimme a break, okay? Haven't seen the sun in a month at least,
can't a guy fantasize or anything?" he sighed, striding past the clusters of
technicians who waited impatiently for the police to finish their work.
Nodding to the officer who stood just inside the doorway, he gazed around
the
room.

Another day, another homicide, he mused as he took in the surroundings. The
only difference being that he was working solo on this one. His partner only
worked the night shift. A supposed allergy to sunlight restricted him to the
hours of darkness.

While the studio's sunshine was artificial and it was still lighter than it
had been outside, this call had come after 8 a.m., after his partner had
signed out. Since Don was officially still assigned to the day shift, he got
the nod. More times than not over the past year, Don had found himself on
nights as often as days. Every new case that came in, he swore that he would
leave on time and let his partner finish the paperwork or do the legwork but
here he was. Covering the dayshift, even though he'd been called in for an
interrogation several hours after supposedly signing out for the evening. It
was enough that he was beginning to think that life would be easier if he
simply transferred to the night shift.

A broad smile lit up his face as he saw the petite auburn haired woman
crouched by the body. Any case that had Natalie Lambert as M.E. was more
likely to go into the books as solved. She had an uncanny intuition when it
came to homicide. Not to mention the fact that she was definitely easier on
the eyes than any of the other coroners on staff. Natalie was chief coroner
on night shift but with the chronic short staffing in that department, found
herself working cases pretty much any time, day or night.

"Hey, Natalie," he called out, striding into the room briskly. "What's the
news?"

She glanced up, gesturing for him to come closer, "Detective, I'd like to
introduce you to Marcus Wayne, a male in his mid 30s, formerly cast as Sir
Robert... a nobleman in medieval France. Now he is most assuredly deceased."

"Ah, yes, of course," he peered down his nose, in a mock gesture of disdain.
"So what had the late Monsieur Wayne told you so far?"

Standing, she picked up her black medical bag and motioned to the movie set,
"I think someone took the plot just a little too far."

Hands scrunched into his pockets, Don pleaded, "Humor me, Nat. I haven't
kept
up on the entertainment news. I don't know anything about whatever they are
filming here. What happened to the actor over there?"

"This is a movie about vampires," she explained grimly. "The only marks on
him are a set of puncture wounds on his neck." In her mind she was
calculating how many hours it would be before Nick was alert enough to share
this bit of news. She could not tell if this was truly the work of a
vampire,
or simply an act. That was his territory.

"Great, just great," he mumbled. Somehow over the past year, he'd been
blessed with more than his share of odd cases... starting with the guard at
the Royal Ontario Museum. He walked closer and peered at the body. He
doubted
that he'd find anything that Natalie hadn't, but had to see for himself.
"Not
much blood," he observed.

"No, there isn't," she confirmed. "Don't ask me where it is though.  I
didn't
see much either. That's your job."

"And your cause?" he asked with obvious reluctance. He longed for a simple,
straightforward domestic case. Those were simple when compared with the
pseudo-supernatural ones.

"Right now, I'm saying exsanguination. I'll let you know more after I've
done
the post-mort." She nodded toward a cluster of men in costume standing to
the
periphery. "Those are the guys who found him."

"Thanks, Nat." He gave her a wave and walked over to the men that Natalie
had
indicated.  "Detective Schanke, Metro Homicide. Who found him?"

"That would be me," a tall, dark haired man spoke up, extending his hand to
shake Don's hand. "Jim Merrill."

"And the rest of you?" Don prompted.

"Jim called me over to look. I've played enough doctors in my career that I
feel like I am one," a slim redheaded man joked. "I'm Eric Peters."

"And what did you do then?"

"Oh, don't worry, Detective. We didn't touch anything." The third man
responded.

"Let me guess. You've played a cop too?" Don asked, with a hint of
annoyance.
He had little patience for civilians who thought they knew police procedure.
At least, in this case, their 'knowledge' had told them to leave the scene
alone. That was a plus.

"Well, yes I have. Maybe you've seen me. I'm currently a detective on..."

"Sorry, I'm not up on current shows," Don interrupted.  He gestured for an
officer to come over. "Miller, take these two into the other room. I'll talk
to them next.  OK, Jim, what exactly did you find?" he asked, flipping open
his notebook, and leading Jim away from the other actors.

"Marcus was just laying there... I thought he'd just come in early to
practice some of his stunts or run lines and then decided to take a nap in
the garden. We've all used that set for naps."

"And?" he prompted.

"I called to him. We were going to need that set soon, and he was due in
makeup... and, well, he didn't respond. So I came closer. And he was...
dead..."

"How did you know that?" Schanke asked, trying to not be as sarcastic as he
felt. The entire area felt, in his mind, weird. Something was going on that
went beyond one dead actor.

"I'm not stupid, detective," he said impatiently.  "He was cold. I did try
to
check a pulse... I took CPR once, you know."

"OK, so what did you do next?" Schanke asked in his most calm, professional
voice.

"I freaked. I screamed for help. Eric came over and then we called you
guys."
He wrung his hands nervously. "Honestly, Detective, I didn't see anyone
around. The techs were in the other set, fixing the lights. Most of the
other
guys were in makeup. Even the director was in his office. We weren't
scheduled to start today's filming until 9 am."

"Hmm, okay then, let me ask this. Who has access to the studio when you
aren't filming?"

"The cast, the crew... basically anyone with a pass, I would guess. Our
passes are coded for access through the security doors."

"Thanks. You'll be around if I need to talk to you again?"

"Of course. I want to see whoever did this caught."

"Well, that's my job. I'll be in touch," Don responded. Seeing the captain
approaching, he nodded and met the captain mid way.

"What do you have?" Stonetree asked, gazing around the room.

"Victim is an actor who was found this morning by another actor. No one saw
anything, at least not that they are saying."

"Do you have a TOD or cause?"

"Cause is blood loss, at least that's the preliminary. Natalie has the body
at the lab."

"Blood loss? I didn't see much blood in that garden area where they found
the
body."

"Yeah, well, this is a movie about vampires," Don replied with a wry smile.
"Maybe someone took it a little too seriously."

"Maybe. But let's keep this in the here and now." Stonetree said sternly. He
had fought to keep the supernatural out of previous cases under his
supervision. Some explanations had no business being in print... and the
only
print that he wanted to see about vampires was in fiction. "Someone killed
Mr. Wayne, and it's our job to figure out who it was." He chastised. "Any
ideas?"

"Well, someone who was here before working hours. I'm going to pull their
security records to see whose badges were used early this morning. Maybe we
can narrow the field a bit. Figure out who else was at the studio."

"Get to it," Stonetree agreed. "Since you've brought up the over-imaginative
actor motive, it might not hurt to read the script."

"I'll request it immediately." Don agreed.

*****
The thinnest ray of sunlight penetrated a narrow space at the bottom of the
tall windows. It was part of Nick's morning ritual to keep the heavy steel
shades open as long as he could. Even after the sun's rays kept him
imprisoned in his loft apartment, he was reluctant to seal himself within.

Even after 800 years, he had not forgotten how it felt to stand under the
noonday sun. To feel the heat of the day, the power and energy that came
from
being alive. Oh, yes, he was still *alive* in a manner of speaking, but he
could no longer stand in the sun. Even the thin sliver that cast vague
shadows in his dimly lit apartment would burn him.

It was the early morning that was the most difficult for Nick. It reminded
him of his limitations. In his early years, he would be seized by an
uncontrollable urge to seek shelter and to sleep. A self-defense survival
urge, he'd been taught. Now he did not need to sleep as much and so, he was
alone, at home. There was nothing to keep him from his thoughts and
memories.
Most prominently though, he relived his regrets. For as long as he'd been
alive, he'd not been able to forgive himself the sins of his youth, the
choices that he'd made in moments of passion. The choices that had led him
to
this moment in time.

"Hey, hey, Nicky boy! Wakey! Wakey!" the voice of his partner came over the
answering machine loudly. Nick had somehow missed hearing the ring, or the
outgoing message.

"What is it Schank?" he asked as he leaned over the machine, phone pressed
to
his ear.

"We got a live one... or should I say, a dead one," he responded with a
broad
chuckle.

"Obviously I can't meet you there," Nick sighed, looking again at the ray of
sunlight. Being unable to work during the day made his ability to blend into
mortal society an even greater challenge.

"No problemo, partner. I've done the preliminary work. There will be a pile
of paper sitting on your desk tonight awaiting your magic touch," the humor
was hard to miss. Neither man was overly fond of writing reports but it was
rare that Nick would be doing the menial tasks while his partner did the
interviews and investigation.

"Magic touch?" Nick asked with a heavy sigh. This was not good.

"You got it. The typewriter awaits you. I gotta run. They're bringing over
some witnesses for me to interview. Have fun. Hasta-la-bye-bye!"

"Yeah, sure," Nick groaned. Just what he needed. Something to remind him on
man's inhumanity to one another. Something more to remind him of his own
urges...

**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 02/27
Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2002 22:06:43 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu
CC: nnfic@yahoogroups.com

disclaimers in part 01

CHAPTER TWO

Natalie had done more post-mortem examinations in her career than she cared
to count. In her four years in the Toronto's Coroner's office, she'd risen
to
the position of chief medical examiner on the night shift. That meant that
she reviewed every case that came in between the hours of 7 pm and 7 am.
More
often than not, she was the pathologist on duty and did the exam herself.
There was very little that could shock or surprise her any more.

Or so she had once thought.

That had changed three years ago when one of her clients sat up on the
autopsy table and altered her reality forever. The knowledge that vampires
existed in the modern world was a closely guarded secret, a fact that Nick
impressed upon her regularly. The veil of secrecy that was necessary had
drawn them together with a friendship that went deeper than simply being
co-workers. It was a bond of trust upon which their lives depended.

The fact that Nick Knight, a detective with the Metro Toronto Police
homicide
division, was in reality an 800-year old vampire, was not something that she
would discuss with anyone. It had opened her eyes to some events that were
not quite what they seemed.  There was only one case that she *knew* was the
result of a vampire's attack. How many others she'd seen and simply
attributed to other causes was anyone's guess...

Despite the fact that she'd been on duty for fourteen hours already, Natalie
chose to finish the case before heading to her apartment for some
much-needed
sleep. Some things she needed to see for herself, because she knew that no
one else in the department would know what to look for. Things like whether
or not this was the work of a man or a vampire.

The cause of death remained acute blood loss, and the only wound that she
found were the two small punctures over the jugular vein. The appearance of
the punctures was not what she remembered from the vampire case that she'd
done previously, but for that degree of blood loss to occur from that
vessel,
there had to have been some suction or drainage device. Was it a mouth that
caused the slight discoloration? Or a machine?

The preliminary case report was finalized, printed and filed. Some blood
work
and drug testing remained before the report could be finalized but it would
not change the outcome. Someone had drained Marcus Wayne of enough blood to
cause circulatory collapse. It was Nick's job to figure out just who that
was
and why.

Although she knew that Nick would be sleeping, this was something that he
needed to know. Sunset was a good 6 hours away, but this could not wait. In
a
gesture that spoke of the trust he had for her, he'd given her the security
code to his loft apartment. For a vampire to reveal his daytime resting
place
and allow access to a mortal was the utmost gesture of trust and respect.

With copies of the autopsy photos and the final reports in her briefcase,
Natalie left the office shortly after noon, driving directly to the
warehouse
district and Nick's apartment. She parked in the alley next to his building
and punched in the code with a yawn.

All was quiet when she got off the lift. A single taper set on the piano was
lit, and cast a pale glow in the main room. She knew better than to actually
go upstairs and wake him. The few times that she'd woken him from a deep
sleep had convinced her of that. She'd seen the vampire numerous times,
mostly when Nick was intensely angry but always in control. Not so when he
was disturbed during the day. The vampire would emerge first, and she'd not
been sure that Nick was truly aware of his actions until he'd consumed an
entire bottle of blood. He would then wake, but seem very confused how he
got
downstairs and why she was she there.

She knew that had she gone to her own apartment, she would have fallen
asleep
and missed him before he went into work. This was something that he needed
to
hear from her first. After setting her briefcase on the kitchen table, she
went to the closet to grab a pillow and blanket. Settling on the couch, she
was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

****
The clattering sound of the automatic shutters rising woke Nick later that
afternoon. He'd programmed them to open as soon as the sun's shadows no
longer posed a risk. He could still watch the fading glow of the sunset from
the relative safety of his kitchen. As he rose from the bed, he heard a
sound
that didn't belong... the beating of a human heart. It took him a moment to
recognize the cadence as being that of his friend and confidante. For
Natalie
to come specifically to see him unannounced, after a shift, meant that there
was something that he needed to know before he went in to work.

Belting a robe snugly over his black silk pajamas, Nick went down stairs
cautiously. He could see her sleeping soundly on the couch. Crossing to the
refrigerator, he took out a green glass bottle and uncorked it. The aroma of
the steer blood hit him immediately. It was a compromise that he endured. He
had vowed to not partake of human blood many years ago, but had yet to find
a
substitute that nourished him other that the blood. It was Natalie's
contention that the blood was what kept him from crossing back over... and
becoming mortal. For that reason, she continually tried to devise other
beverages for him. Some were better tasting than others, but none took away
the craving. Even the steer blood did not completely ease the desires.

After consuming a goblet full of blood, he sat at the piano and began to
play. Music had been a companion for many years and he had studied with some
of the masters. Music was one way that he could express his deepest emotions
without fear of killing anyone.

"Now that is a wonderful alarm clock," Natalie said softly, running a hand
across his back as she stood behind him.

"I aim to please my house guests. Even when I don't know that I'm going to
have house guests," he frowned, turning on the bench to face her. "What
brings you over, Nat?"

"Case that came in after you left," she responded, walking over to the
dining
table and opening her briefcase.

"Schanke called and said we had a new case but didn't give me the
particulars. You think that it's important enough that I needed to hear
about
it from you, not Schanke or Stonetree?"

"What you'll hear from me is not exactly what you'll hear from them," she
said dryly, handing him the autopsy photographs.

He studied the pictures carefully. It didn't take long for him to figure out
her concern. "And the cause of death?"

"Blood loss. Didn't look exactly like that case last year, but I need you to
take a look," she admitted.

"Hmm, yes, of course. Where'd you find him?"

"That's the other problem and the main reason that you needed to know about
this. He was on a movie set. A movie about vampires. Set in the middle
ages."

"Really?" he was incredulous. This was something that was way too noticeable
for it to really be a vampire. Most vampires were more cautious than that.
On
the other hand, it would be interesting to see just how historically
accurate... or more precisely *inaccurate* they were being.

"Yes, really. Know anyone that would be that obvious?" she asked.

"No... but we're assuming that it was a vampire," he said thoughtfully.

"No, I'm not assuming anything," she corrected. "I'm just warning you so you
don't freak at all the vampire jokes that you'll hear tonight. I do want you
to take a look at the body just so I know whether I should worry."

"Nat, as long as you've worded your reports to look as if a mortal did this,
you don't need to be concerned."

"If you say so," she shook her head. "Personally, I'd rather not risk it."

"That is probably the safest attitude," Nick mused. "I'll come over later in
the shift. I'll see what they've figured out today." He stood and handed the
photographs to her. "Thanks for the advance warning."

"I need to head home, feed Sydney and shower. I'm on pager at 6:30 but I
won't be in the office until nine." She put the file back in her briefcase
and pulled her jacket on over her scrubs.

**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 03/27
Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2002 22:08:00 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu
CC: nnfic@yahoogroups.com

disclaimers in part 01

CHAPTER THREE

Signing into the precinct log precisely at 9 pm, Nick observed the
controlled
chaos with mild disinterest. Having spent much of the past thirty years in
law enforcement, there was little that went on in a police station that
could
surprise him.

Despite the cold and gloomy weather, the citizens of Toronto were not
hibernating. That was quite obvious from the throng that filled the lobby
and
surrounded him with notepads and cameras in tow.

Nick ignored the attempts of several people to catch his attention and
pushed
his way into the bullpen. Glancing at the drawn shades, he turned to the
uniformed officer standing guard by the door.

"OK, Steve, why are the shades down?"

"Fishbowl effect," he said sarcastically. "Day shift got tired of being
watched. Some of those reporters started getting out of hand."

"I noticed the crowd. What's up?"

"Beats me. Some actor died. That's all I know," he shrugged.

"So what's the commotion about?" Nick asked.

"Ah, some bozo from the cast is telling everyone that the guy was attacked
by
a vampire," Steve explained.

"A vampire?" Nick's carefully schooled expression reflected the disbelief
that he knew was appropriate. "You think maybe it's the same one that was at
the museum a few years ago?"

Steve laughed, "Could be. You never know. Anyway, Schanke escaped out the
back door when he booked off a few hours ago to avoid them."

"Maybe I'll try the same thing," Nick mused, seeing a thick file sitting
conspicuously on his desk blotter.

"Only after you've put in some legwork on the case," Stonetree commented as
Nick opened the file. "After you've read the scene report and the autopsy, I
want you to cross reference the studio's security log. Figure out who was
there officially. Supposedly it is a closed studio with a pretty good alarm
system. You have to have a security badge to get in, and there is no
indication of an intruder. When you get a chance, read through the script."

"What's the working theory right now?" Nick asked, flipping though the
stapled pages of the script. "Professional jealousy?"

"Possibly. Or maybe an accident. A stunt gone wrong. It's very possible that
it is someone on the inside."

"Cast?" Nick began to consider the possibilities.

"That's why we need to figure out exactly what scenes have 'Sir Robert' and
what he is doing. If it was a stunt gone wrong, that's more an issue for the
studio. If they're covering something up, we need to get them talking."

"Understood. I'll get something to you by the end of the shift," Nick
agreed,
pulling the printout of the security logs. "Just one question. What are all
the media waiting for?"

"You got me. I've already told them what I can. The guy is dead, and we are
investigating." Stonetree leaned over the desk, speaking low. "I refused to
comment on the whole vampire thing. Maybe they are trying to make this
something supernatural. Scoop the cable television horror channel. I don't
know."

"I promise, no vampire jokes will come from me," Nick said solemnly, looking
Stonetree in the eye. For a moment the captain was still, as if he knew that
Nick knew more that he'd let on. Exchanging a long silent gaze, Stonetree
went back to his office. Nothing had ever been said, but Nick had long
believed that the captain had suspicions about him. Neither man ever said
anything. Nick was content to leave it at that.

****
Analyzing the security logs was precisely the type of tedious detail work
that Nick tried to avoid. It amazed him how many people were coming and
going
at all times of day or night. Especially since the filming schedule that
week
called for only daytime work.

"Getting anywhere?" Stonetree asked when he saw Nick pulling on his jacket,
as if leaving.

"I can tell you who was there when they *found* him, but I need the
estimated
TOD to give you more. I'm heading to the morgue."

"Don't take too long. Those vultures will be back at daybreak," he joked.
After Joe's third request, most of the media had dissipated. They would be
back.

Parking in his usual spot in front of the coroners building, Nick was aware
of a shadowy figure waiting by the loading dock. As he got out of the car,
he
stood under the streetlamp, as if in challenge.  A tall woman wearing a
black
trench coat approached cautiously, "Detective?"

"Yes?" Nick responded, reaching out with his senses. It was not an Enforcer.
They were not usually this communicative.  It was, however, a vampire. An
old
one. More than likely, she was one of the ancients who investigated events
that might warrant future action from the Enforcers. Nick had had a few
encounters with the vampire equivalent of Internal Affairs. That was more
than enough.

"What can you tell me about the television reports of a vampire attack?"

"Not much," Nick replied, with an apologetic shake of his head. "If you give
me an hour, I'll know more. I'm going in to check out the body."

"What is the coroner calling it?" the woman persisted.

"I told you, I don't know," he said firmly. "Yet. Do you want to wait?"

"Not here. I will be at the Raven," the woman replied. "I expect you will be
in touch."

"Absolutely," Nick agreed. Since his sire had perished, he'd had little
contact with the older, more powerful vampires. He maintained a relationship
with Janette, his immortal sibling, and had a loose friendship with a few
others, but for the most part avoided other vampires. It was no longer his
preferred lifestyle, and that was hard for the others to understand.

With a nod to the receptionist, Nick walked down the hall to Natalie's
ground
floor lab. The smell of formaldehyde only barely covered the tantalizing
scent of human blood. He avoided her office area whenever she had fresh
cases. Keeping his instincts in check was even more difficult when faced
with
the temptation of the scent of that which he'd given up. After nearly 7
centuries of consuming human blood as a source of nutrition and strength, he
now drank only cow's blood. It was not as sweet, not as satisfying, but it
also did not add to his sense of guilt.

He could tell long before he reached the lab that Natalie was working on a
case. The terse comments spoken into a small tape recorder and the clatter
of
instruments against the steel surface were as clear to his ears as the acrid
scent of the blood.

A sly smile crossed his face as he strode down the hall. His footsteps
becoming lighter, he blended into the shadows. After 800 years, it was
instinct. He might not hunt anymore but he hadn't lost the instincts, nor
had
he forgotten how to conceal his presence. Once it was a matter of survival.
Now it was fun.

The door opened with a hint of a breeze that went undetected. Clad in
blood-splattered scrubs, Natalie was intent on her dissection. He loved
watching her work.  Her face was scrunched with concentration as she passed
in front of him.

Lightly stepping to the foot of the autopsy table, Nick leaned over and
tapped her on the shoulder.

"Ahhh," she shrieked, dropping her instruments with a loud crash. Turning
quickly, she smacked his arm, heedless of the blood on her gloves. "Don't DO
that!" she exclaimed.

"Couldn't resist," he laughed. "I've been here five minutes without you
noticing."

"Have you ever tried a simple 'hello'?" she retorted. It was hard for her to
stay angry with him grinning like a little boy.

"That wouldn't be as much fun," he pouted.

Stripping off her soiled gloves, she pointed to the desk area. "No, I don't
suppose it would but it would do wonders for my heart," she commented.
Tossing the gloves and her blood-splattered apron into the hazardous waste
bin, she followed him to the corner of the lab that served as her office.
Clicking off the tape recorder, she glanced at him expectantly.

"So what can I do for you? Besides provide entertainment?"

"You finished with the post on that actor? I need the official TOD to start
figuring out who was in the studio legitimately."

"Yes, I have it right here," she pulled a file out from the stack sitting on
the desk. "I was hoping you'd stop by tonight." Nick skimmed through the
pages and gave her a non-committal grunt.

"Body been released yet?"

"No, I haven't signed off yet." She stood and opened the heavy metal door to
the cold room. Switching on the light, she pushed the shrouded gurney toward
the center of the room. When Nick did not immediately follow her, she peered
out, "You coming? I wasn't planning on pushing him all the way out."

"Oh, uh, yeah," he stammered. Carrying the file tucked under his arm, he
followed her voice. The bare light bulb cast harsh shadows and reflections
off the metal walls. While he'd adjusted to the odors of the autopsy room,
the cold storage area reeked of death. It was an area that Nick avoided
whenever possible.

Watching as Natalie pulled back the drape, Nick could readily see the
evidence of the recent autopsy. His attention was drawn to the neck. Twin
punctures stood out against the pallid skin. "That isn't a vampire bite," he
stated without hesitation.

"Sure about that?" Natalie questioned.

Nick shot her a look that silenced any doubt before replying firmly, "Yes."

"OK, OK. I'm just making sure," she stammered. She seldom heard that
particular tone of voice and knew better than to argue. Before she'd
finished
covering up the body, Nick had swept from the room.

He was leaning on her desk, studying the file intently. "So where do you go
next?" she asked gently.

"Same place I was going before you showed the body to me," he replied. "This
is still a case. Even if I knew it's futile, I still would investigate this
like any other case. I know it isn't a vampire, so I continue with the leads
we already have."

He was being more abrupt than normal, which made Natalie question how
truthful he was being. It was rare that a body crossed her table that she
knew, beyond a doubt, was a vampire's kill. Not that she'd *ever* put that
in
an autopsy report.

"No vampire would be that stupid," he added with obvious disdain. "Not
unless
they want to invite trouble."

"Right," she agreed. She'd heard vague references to a vampire police force
but like most of what she knew of Toronto's seamier side, it barely skimmed
the surface. "I've got a toxicology report pending, but once that's back, I
can finalize it for you."

"Good," he sighed. "Maybe that'll take care of all the media camped out at
the precinct."

"Which, I'm sure, is making Stonetree's day," she added sarcastically.

"You know it," he smiled. Neither of them had much fondness for media
attention. Over the past year, they'd both had microphones shoved in their
face with unpleasant consequences.

"So what's next on your agenda?"

"A scintillating evening of cross-referencing the security logs with the TOD
in your report." He rolled his eyes with mock boredom. Having a copy of her
report fresh in hand, he had another appointment to keep first. Ancients
were
not known for their patience. When one was asked for information, one
provided it- quickly.

"Sounds like fun," she commented, pulling a fresh pair of gloves out of the
box. "I'll let you know if I learn anything else."

**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 04/27
Date: Thu, 31 Jan 2002 16:02:56 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu
CC: NNFic@yahoogroups.com

disclaimers in part 01

CHAPTER FOUR

With a nod to the bouncer, Nick pushed open the black door of the Raven. The
pounding beat of the music echoed around the half empty club. Striding
across
the room, he met Janette next to the bar.

"It's about time you showed up," she chastised him. "She's waiting in the
back room."

"Who is she?"

"Someone older and more powerful than you," she sniffed. "Of course, being
more powerful than you is not difficult to imagine these days. I swear, the
youngest of fledglings would carry a stronger aura than you."

"Janette, please," he groaned. "This is an old argument. You aren't going to
win."

"I know," she sighed. "That doesn't mean I won't try. But that is for
another
night. Right now I would like you to take care of whatever business you have
with the ancient one. Her mere presence in the club is driving away my
customers."

"I'll take care of it," he pledged. Approaching the office door, he knocked
and waited to be acknowledged.

"Did it really take this long? I have been waiting over an hour," the
ancient
demanded as soon as Nick entered the room.

"My apologies, ma'am," Nick began. He wasn't sure who this was but figured
that being deferential never hurt when dealing with ancients.

"What is your assessment?"

"I detected no aura of a vampire's feeding from the body." Nick explained.

"Your own aura is so weak, I'm not sure you could detect *anything*," she
sniffed. "Do you have the coroner's report?"

"Yes, she is calling it blood loss," Nick confirmed, handing him the copied
file.

"How does she explain the blood loss? Do we have anything to be concerned
about?" the woman asked, skimming through the pages quickly.

"She does not explain it. She speculates that the marks were made by a large
intravenous device."

"That seems an odd explanation," she remarked. Her eyes met Nick's steady
gaze. "I find it odd that an experienced coroner would not comment on the
absence of blood." Her voice took a stern tone as she spoke slowly and
deliberately. "Is there a reason that she does not notice something so
obvious?"

"A reason?" Nick questioned.

"Does this coroner know more than she should?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Nick replied, schooling his voice to be even. The
line of questioning did not surprise him. That it was phrased in such a way
that he could answer with a modicum of truth was unusual.

"Hmm," she commented, keeping her eyes on Nick's expression. "I don't see
anything here that is concerning. Your cooperation has been noted. I will
leave my contact number with Janette. I trust that you'll let her know of
any
developments that warrant my attention."

"Of course," Nick agreed.

"I'd also advise YOU to nourish yourself better, but from what I've heard,
you wouldn't listen to me any more than you listen to your immortal family."
She stood and looked at Nick sternly. "There is no way back. You must live
with the decisions you made 800 years ago." She swept from the room, leaving
Nick to puzzle how this virtual stranger knew anything about him, much less
his quest. He had endeavored to stay clear of the community for some time.

He was still standing in the center of the office when Janette came in.
"What
are you doing in here?" she asked, breezing past him to flip open a large
ledger that sat on the mahogany desk.

"Thinking," he shrugged, turning to face her.

"Thinking?" she questioned. "Hmmm, well, I have work to do. You are very
distracting. Unless you'd care to enlighten me, can you think elsewhere?"

"Oh, uh, sure," he stammered. "I should head into the precinct anyway." He
gave her a quick wave before departing. She watched him leave with a mix of
regret and annoyance. She had not intended to push him away. It was never
her
intent to encourage him to keep his distance. Their long history together
was
complex and her feelings for the former crusading knight ran deep.

It was at her request that LaCroix had brought him across. A disillusioned,
tired man, who no longer believed in his God or King, he was the perfect
addition to their little band.  At first a lover who'd seduced him into a
new
life, she became almost like a wife to him, living as a couple for nearly a
century. Finding his passions and devotion to be overwhelming, she had left
him. It was then that he began to vocalize all of his questions about his
existence. For centuries she had been trying to find a way to appease him.
It
was to no avail. Neither could understand the other's opinion of
immortality.
For Janette, it was a better existence. She could be as independent as she
desired.  Ties to family and church had little meaning to one who'd been
sold
to a brothel by one's husband. She could not fathom the guilt that had
plagued him for centuries, nor the desire for atonement.

Her time in Toronto marked the first time that century that she'd been with
Nick for any length of time without the difficulty of their master hovering
over them both. LaCroix's relocation to Toronto had resulted in Nick making
contact with her. His presumed demise had resulted in Nick maintaining a
loose contact with her, something that he hadn't done for the previous two
years. She could not help but think that it was induced by the guilt he felt
for his role in their master's death.

As she reflected upon their centuries together, she'd realized that LaCroix
had a tendency to pressure Nick to the point where he'd leave. The
strong-arm
tactics that their sire preferred obviously would not work, they had never
worked. She wanted to try a different approach in her desire to reconcile
with her immortal sibling. She still hoped to find a way to reverse Nick's
long-standing unhappiness.

Surely there was something about his life that he found enjoyable. It
remained her greatest fear that he'd simply give up and walk into the
sunlight. She had never thought that to be a risk, no matter how unhappy
Nick
seemed. The knowledge that a long-time friend and former lover of Nick's had
ended her immortal life within the past year made Janette worry. It suddenly
seemed possible for Nick to do the unthinkable. That was something that
Janette would do anything to prevent.

************

Don Schanke was less awed each day that he trudged through the barn-like
structure that housed the movie set. He was learning more than he ever
wanted
to know about filmmaking. The more he watched the tedious nature of the
craft, the more he was glad to *not* be involved.  This production was much
more complex than he'd experienced when the crew of 'Cop Watch' had filmed
Nick and him last year. He'd actually had delusions of an acting career and
still sometimes fantasized about having his name in lights. Every time the
episode was repeated, Schanke's colleagues teased him about trying to retain
an agent, something he tried to blame on a momentary lapse in judgment.

At this point in the investigation he was becoming more confused why such
money was being spent to simulate a dark garden or field indoors when they
could have simply filmed outdoors after sunset. For a movie about vampires,
with so much 'night' being depicted, it seemed odd to him that it was filmed
mainly during the day. If they'd done outdoor filming at night, his partner
could have had the 'pleasure' of dealing with the temperamental director.

While not happy about the disruption in their filming schedule, the director
had worked around the faux garden that was still a closed murder scene.
With
the role of Sir Robert needing to be re-cast, and the script being revised
they'd had other sets to use. There were still a substantial number of
scenes
that needed the garden but no one seemed to be in a hurry. Having a police
presence was becoming routine. As time progressed, the shock had worn off.

Everyone with official access to the studio had alibis. The question in
Don's
mind now was whether someone had gotten through the security system. They
had
not given up on that possibility but as each piece of equipment was tested,
it became less likely that mechanical problems had permitted a random
criminal to enter the studio.  When that had been absolutely ruled out, the
investigation would shift from looking for a random outside criminal to
focus
upon the cast and crew. In that case, who was being less than truthful?

Filming was in progress when Don arrived on the set for yet another
conference with the director. This time he remembered to keep quiet until
the
camera's red light went out. Hands shoved into his coat pocket, Don stood
just behind the tall chair occupied by Bob Hewes, the film's director.

"What's the word?" Bob asked abruptly, seeing the detective's approach.

"We've gotten as much evidence from the garden as we're going to," he
replied. "My captain has cleared me to take down the barriers."

"About time," he exclaimed. "I need that area. We were already behind
schedule and we'll still need to re-shoot a lot of scenes when we've
replaced
Marcus." He slid down from his chair and grabbed a clipboard before leading
Don further away from the set. "So are you done?"

"Done?"

"With the investigation. You know, arrested someone and all that."

"No, we aren't finished," he acknowledged. "You aren't rid of me yet."

"Whatever you need. As long as you don't interfere with my schedule, I'll do
whatever I can to help. I want you to catch whoever did this but I have a
job
to do too. You can talk to anyone you need to, but let my assistant know if
you're taking them anywhere. I don't want to blow up at someone if they're
trying to help you. I do enough of that already," he said absently,
gesturing
to a crewmember. He paused for a moment, eyeing the detective intently. "You
aren't shutting us down are you?"

"No, we aren't. I can't tell you anything more than that, but I'll let you
know if we need to talk to anyone again."

**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 05a/27
Date: Thu, 31 Jan 2002 16:04:39 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu
CC: nnfic@yahoogroups.com

disclaimers in part 01

CHAPTER FIVE

Only a few reporters still lingered around the precinct when Nick breezed
through just before nine p.m. With the crime nearly a week past, it was old
news despite the fact that no one had been arrested. Only the tabloids
remained and they paid scant notice to Nick as he signed in. They were too
busy trying to pump the desk sergeant for any scandalous crime he could tell
them about.

"About time you showed up," the desk sergeant commented. "Stonetree's
looking
for you."

"Yeah, yeah," he shrugged. Following the chain of command as part of his job
wasn't easy. While the concept of unquestioning obedience to one's superiors
had been bred into him at an early age, he learned the hard way that
commanders did not necessarily have his best interest at heart. Trust was
earned.

He slung his jacket over the back of his chair and flipped open the top file
from his 'in' box. Amidst his usual joking comments scrawled on post-it
notes, Schanke had summarized his leads on the case. Essentially, they added
up to a big 'zero'. He was still reading the penciled notes when a shadow
was
cast over the paper.

"Anything interesting?" Captain Stonetree asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"No," Nick answered flatly.

"It's been long enough without a solid lead. Time for plan B," he announced,
tossing a thick manila envelope on the desk with a thud.

"What's that?"

"The latest version of the script. I asked the powers at the studio for the
current working script. Read through it and see if you can figure out
anything that would be helpful. We'll play the professional jealousy angle."

"Sure, Cap," Nick agreed, extracting the sheaf of stapled papers.

****
The more he read, the more worried Nick was becoming. It was eerie to see
the
events of his own life being played out as a drama. As fiction. It had to be
coincidence. It had to be. No one knew that much about him except Janette.
At
least no one who was still alive.

His sire knew even more than Janette, but he'd been killed a year ago.
Killed
by Nick's hand. The reminders were etched in soot on the wall of Nick's loft
apartment. He'd never even tried to wash it off. They served as painful
evidence to the end of centuries of disagreements between his sire and
himself. While he had long tried to escape LaCroix's domination, his death
had not been part of the plan.

He could not imagine Janette revealing anything to a mortal scriptwriter,
much less personal detail of their lives. The need for privacy was something
that every vampire took very, very seriously. If they lapsed, there was
always the fear of the Enforcers to make sure that the knowledge of their
existence remained secret. Nick had taken a calculated risk in allowing
Natalie to live and become close to him. It was something he'd done a few
times over the years. He'd been betrayed several times, which made him even
more cautious.

A cold chill ran down his back as he read a scene where the young Crusader
was seduced into embracing the darkness of eternal night with a promise of a
"thousand lifetimes". Those were the very words that LaCroix had used to
call
him back.

****
"Don't be ridiculous," Janette exclaimed, motioning to the back room.

Nick followed her closely, shutting the door firmly behind him. He paced the
length of the room as Janette sat behind her desk. "I'm serious, Janette.
Somehow my life is being told as a Hollywood drama."

"And you think that I...?" she spoke vehemently, standing, her hands planted
firmly on the desk's surface. "You know better."

"You're the only one that knows my past," he replied.

"A bit egocentric, aren't we, Nicholas?" she commented, walking over to the
credenza and taking out several crystal goblets. "Is it not possible that
this is merely a coincidence?"

"The movie is about a vampire, a Roman general as a mortal, who is now in
13th century Paris. He finds a former Crusader and convinces him to turn his
back on God. Fast forward to the present, and the Crusader is now fighting
for his freedom from his master because he wants to be mortal again."

"Interesting story. You forgot the part about him being a homicide
detective," she mused. She could not help smiling to herself at the annoyed
look that Nick shot her. "Vampires are popular once more it would seem.
Television, movies, books. They are shrinking our domain. The world might
yet
discover our existence but in this case I fail to see the connection to me."
She filled the goblets from a bottle she'd pulled from the wine rack behind
her desk and offered one to Nick.

"No thanks," he shook his head, leaning against the wall on the far side of
the room.

"Ah, that's right. You're on duty," she said with disdain.

"Even if I wasn't, that isn't what I prefer," he informed her emphatically.

"You actually *prefer* that swill that you insist upon drinking?" she
questioned. Their eyes met with a silent acknowledgement of what they both
knew. "I thought not. Is it merely some form of misguided penance, or simply
self-abuse?"

"Janette, I didn't come here to fight with you. Can't we have a civilized
discussion without focusing on my diet?"

"Or lack thereof," she said softly. "Oh, Nicholas, I am simply concerned
about your well being. It is not my intent to be such a shrew."

"I didn't say you were," Nick commented, sitting on the corner of her desk,
taking her hand in his. "I swore not to take human life to feed my monstrous
appetite. I've taken too many innocent lives. I can't do that any more."

"It isn't that you *can't*. You are still perfectly capable of living as a
vampire. You have not forgotten how. It's that you *won't*," she added. "I
know,  I know. You have regrets. I'm not asking you to hunt with me as we
once did. I'm merely suggesting that you occasionally partake of some of my
excellent vintages. I can assure you that no one died for my very special
blends."

"It's too much of a temptation, Janette. I can't do it," he shook his head,
turning away from her. In truth, the blood she held in her hand was only the
beginning of what he wanted. In the end though, it would be a betrayal of
all
he believed.

"You'd rather go hungry?" she chastised him. "The blood of animals will keep
you alive, but does not satisfy all of your needs."

"I know. It's something I live with," Nick replied softly, his eyes averted.
"I'm doing fine."

"That is a matter of debate, mon frere," she sighed. "My offer is an open
one. Think about it. Someday you may change your mind."

"I doubt it," Nick smiled, relieved that Janette was not going to push him
further. He stood and kissed her hand lightly, pacing to the far side of the
room. It was simply too tempting to be next to her. He didn't trust himself
to do anything further. She was right, that he did have needs that were not
being met. "So, you swear to me that you had nothing to do with this movie?"

"Me? Dabble in Hollywood nonsense? Such foolishness. You give me far too
much
credit, Nicholas. In any event, why does it bother you so?"

"You know why. It's dangerous," he reminded her. He watched as she slowly
walked across the room, every step a seduction. She'd lost nothing over the
centuries. He still remembered the vision of her across a smoke filled hall.
Whispering to him. Calling to him.

"Dangerous? For whom? Moi? I think not," she declared, standing next to him,
her hands brushing along his shoulder.

"For the community. It's too close to the truth. The Enforcers will never
let
it air." He moved away from her. Her presence was too distracting. Too much
of a temptation. He wanted things that she was only too willing to
provide...

"Ah, so you are concerned about the mortals who are creating this work of
fiction," she commented, knowingly watching his restless movement.
"Admirable, Nicholas, but hardly your concern. Even if the Enforcers do
learn
of this motion picture, you are not involved, so why are you worried?"

"But I know about it. Is that not the same thing? Should I notify the
Ancient?"

"You may, if it makes you happy," she shrugged. "It makes no difference to
me. If you lived by the Code, you would not have this constant worry about
discovery. Life would be so much simpler."

"Janette, don't," he warned. "I'm telling *you* out of courtesy. I think I'm
old enough to know when something doesn't feel right. This doesn't feel
right."

"Duly noted, mon chere," she nodded with a hint of impatience. "I'm not
worried about it and I fail to see why you should be. Then again, you seem
to
thrive on worrying."

"Janette," he sighed. "We've had this argument before. You won't win."

"I was not trying to," she smiled. She knew that Nick had purposely avoided
the club for the first three years that he was in Toronto. She was sure that
he was aware of her presence as soon as he'd moved there. She'd known
immediately that he was in town, and had waited patiently for him to seek
her
out. Their previous encounter had been bitter. He had escaped LaCroix and
she
had betrayed his confidence by telling their sire how to find him. She had
done so with the best of intentions but Nick wouldn't listen. He had moved
again before she had the chance to apologize. They had not seen each other
since then. He'd first come to the club 'on business' and most of his visits
to her were for the purpose of finding information.

In the past few months, that was beginning to change. Ever so subtly he was
beginning to come more often, to the point that he was close to being a
regular. She had learned from her past encounters and knew that he would not
back down. Anything that she did to push him would only serve to force him
further away from her. "I am truly curious. What is it that you fear?
Enforcers?"

"A bit," he confessed. "Don't you?"

"Ah, but I live by the Code. If your conscience was clear, you would not
need
worry."

"I follow the code, Janette," he shot back quickly.

"Oh?" she questioned. "Do you really? Might I remind you that your doctor
friend knows too much?"

"She's a resistor," he said firmly. "I assure you, she can be trusted."

"So you say," Janette mused. "The Enforcers might think otherwise. Whether
you trust her, or I do, would not matter if *they* don't.  Far be it for me,
however, to report *that* transgression. You'll be gone from her life soon
enough, mon chere."

"That's my concern more than anything," he nodded. "I'm not ready to leave
this life. Is it possible that someone is trying to force me out?"

"Anything is possible, Nicholas. Is it possible? Yes. Is it probable? No.
Enforcers wouldn't bother to be that subtle." She brushed in front of him,
resting her hands on his shoulders to draw him closer.

"All right," he sighed, leaning forward to kiss her lightly.  "I'm not
convinced that this is simply a coincidence," he stood and moved to the
door.
"The question remains though. Is someone trying to set me up?"

"Set you up? For what?" she questioned. "It isn't like you are trying to
take
power within the community."

"True," he agreed. "That isn't really what I was worried about though. My
ideas are not popular ones. Could someone be trying to expose me?"

"For what purpose?" she asked with genuine confusion.

"To force me from this life. To force the Enforcers to take action against
me. I don't know. There could be any number of reasons."

"None of which are likely," she reassured him. "If it makes you feel better,
I'll keep my ears open. Something might turn up."

"Thank you," he said as he opened the door to leave. "I'll be in touch."

"Of course," she nodded, watching him leave.

**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 05b/27
Date: Thu, 31 Jan 2002 16:06:06 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu
CC: nnfic@yahoogroups.com

disclaimers in part 01

Chapter 5 (continued)

"That was very well done, Janette," the low voice came from the shadows. She
didn't need to look. She knew who it was. She was simply a pawn in the
larger
game. Brute force had failed to bring Nicholas back to the Community. A more
subtle approach was being tried. The most ancient of the vampire Community
had enlisted her assistance. While she regretted the deception, fearing that
it would erode what small amount of trust existed between them, she would do
anything to keep her immortal sibling. Besides, one did not refuse *any*
request that came from an ancient.

"This is a risky proposition," she stated simply.

"It was your idea," the woman replied from her perch against the wall.

"I know, but it was not my idea that he be aware of the film prior to its
completion."

"No?" the woman questioned. "Here I was going to complement you. It's a
stroke of genius. He has always been rather contemplative. I should think
that you'd have better success if he has time to digest it all. Analyze the
plot and so forth. Viewing a film once is less likely to be as
illuminating."

"Contemplative, perhaps. May I remind you that our Nicholas tends to leap
before he looks. It might be better if he had not had the opportunity to
overly analyze the story."

"Sometimes that 'look' is not advisable, as you well know," she said
sternly.

"Je sais," Janette murmured, slipping into her native French. "That is what
I'm afraid of. This could backfire on us."

"I have another issue that I will require your assistance," she said
thoughtfully.

"Mais oui, madame. I shall be happy to do as you ask," Janette agreed
readily.

"Nicholas is handling some carelessness," she stated assuredly.

"Yes, despite my misgivings regarding his current incarnation, it does come
in handy at times," she smiled. "I believe he gave you the files, did he
not?"

"He did. My concern is the way the coroner wrote her report. It is very
odd."
She paused for a moment, her power and authority reflected in her
expression.
"You know what I am talking about." It was not a question.

"Nicholas has been less than discrete," Janette stated simply, trying not to
show her dismay. She knew only too well that Nick played loose and free with
the code. It was only a matter of time before he was caught. The fact that
it
happened to be the coroner did work to their benefit but she worried that
this ancient would not see it that way.

"Something I'd suspected for some time," she replied matter-of-fact. "I am
not totally naïve about what is going on here. If you feel this coroner can
be trusted, I will leave the situation alone. On the other hand, if she is a
danger, I need to know."

"I don't believe that Natalie is a danger to the Community. Her loyalty has
been an asset on more than one occasion. Is there something you wish me to
do?" Janette asked simply. She was immensely relieved that she was not
forced
to betray Nicholas. She'd done that a few times and it always put a strain
on
their friendship that was becoming harder to overcome.

"You've met this woman?"

"Yes, I have," Janette acknowledged. "I'm sure that if Nicholas has revealed
himself, he's also told her of the dangers."

Giving Janette a quizzical glance, she said softly. "I'm glad you're so
confident. I am not. I will be watching. I may deem it necessary to meet her
as well. I will rely on you to set that up should I request it. I also
require that you watch her and report anything interesting." She had not
risen to her position by being foolish. There was more going on in Toronto
than either were saying.

"Of course," Janette agreed. "But if you are confident that Nicholas has
been
careless with her, why not ask him to bring the doctor to you?"

"I don't trust his reaction. He may do something foolish trying to save this
woman, not realizing my intentions toward either of them. If, as you say,
she
is a valuable ally, I am loathe to change that relationship by acting
prematurely." She drained the last of the goblet she'd carried and set it on
Janette's desk. "If I'd intended to summon Enforcers, it would have happened
already."

"I see," Janette nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. She knew only too well
that if Nick thought the Enforcers were coming, he'd run, and take Natalie
with him. "Do you think an oath of loyalty will be necessary?"

"Perhaps. Of course, if he was wise, he would already have taken her blood
and bound her to him. We'd have no argument if we saw she had a link to
someone. I won't force it at this time. I may change my mind. It may be
necessary for her to have a link to someone other than Nicholas." She spoke
the last clearly and solemnly before fading into the shadows and
disappearing.

****
Pausing for a moment, staring through the skylight, Janette thought more
about her discussion with Nick. She had longed to mend the rift that
separated her from him for a long time. His moving to Toronto was a stroke
of
good luck for her and it allowed her the chance to put into play a plan that
the oldest of their kind had proposed to her when she lived in Los Angeles.
There, she had fallen into a crowd that dabbled in the Hollywood crowd.
Indeed, many of the 'B' vampire movies of the 30s and 40s had been made by
vampires with full knowledge and consent of the Enforcers. Anything to
deflect true knowledge of their kind was not only permissible, but was
encouraged.

It had taken 50 years to feel that the time was right to implement her plan.
The script idea that she had 'fed' to a screenwriter friend was closer to
the
absolute truth than had ever been presented and had required close contact
with ancient vampires, most of whom she would just as soon avoid.

She was still standing there when he levitated to the roof and sat next to
her. "Are you planning to sit out here all night, or do you want to come
in?"
he asked with an amused smile.

"Thank you, Nicholas, I was awaiting your invitation," she said demurely. In
truth, she'd been debating how best to approach him. "I believe I will come
in." She followed him to the lower level and set a full bottle on the table.

"I see you brought your own," he commented, handing her an empty goblet.

"But, of course, mon Coeur," she smiled. "I know what is on *your* menu. How
you stand that swill is beyond me."

He shot her a look of exasperation. "Janette, I have my reasons."

"I know, I know," she sighed, patting the surface of the couch to ask him to
sit. "I did not come over to lecture you."

"Then why did you come over here?" he asked, uncorking her bottle and
filling
the glass. If nothing else, he could be a good host. Sitting at the far end
of the couch, he viewed her carefully.

"Because," she whispered, sliding closer to him. "I sensed that there was
more that you wished to discuss."

"About?" he questioned.

"Our lives, our past. Whatever is bothering you about that film."

"I don't know, Janette," he sighed. He stared at the flickering light of the
fireplace as he spoke slowly and deliberately.  "It was so strange."

"Tell me," she commanded.

"I don't know what to think. I know you said it's just coincidence, but it
seems so real."

"Real in the sense of?" she continued in her subtle seduction with every
movement. He had, at first, kept his distance but had not moved off the
couch
as they both now sat at one end. He had moved his arm to rest against her
shoulders.

"I've never seen a vampire movie that seemed so real," he observed
thoughtfully.  "Maybe that's what struck me. They aren't the exaggerated
fake
creatures that you usually see."

"Does that bother you?" she teased. She leaned against his chest, her hands
splayed around his waist. It had been far too long since she'd been in his
arms. She had, in a moment of restlessness rejected him many years previous.
Things had never been the same between them afterwards.  "You, who seek
humanity as if it were the Grail. I should think you'd like being portrayed
as the humanity that you covet."

"Bother me? No, I don't think so. I was just commenting." He was silent for
a
moment, draining his goblet in one smooth motion. He was all too aware of
the
effect that she was having on him. He should tell her to leave before he did
something he'd regret.  "In all the time that I've been here in Toronto, I
can only think of one time that you've been over here. Why tonight?"

"I longed to see you again." She spoke in soft tones, her expression full of
desire. "We have needs, just as mortals."

"I haven't seen you lacking for company," Nick observed. Gently
disentangling
himself from her embrace, he stood and crossed the room, leaning on the
carved fireplace, further away from her. The temptation was great. He had
not
been with another vampire for several decades. Celibacy was not easy for any
vampire. Their very nature was one of seduction. That was one of the reasons
that he'd not sought Janette's company as soon as he arrived in Toronto. Oh,
he knew she was here as soon as he'd moved. He also knew that he would not
be
able to resist her charms. At least not for long.

"I haven't been," she agreed, standing and following him to stand in front
of
the fireplace.  "But you have."

"I'm around people every night," he argued. He paced across the room
restlessly. The automatic shutters rattled loudly as if to punctuate the
fact
that the sun had risen. It meant that Janette was there for the day. Not
even
he would turn her away. With a tired sigh, he sat down on the couch.

"People, yes. Those of your own kind? No. Not unless you need information.
Things to help with your little job," she observed, sitting next to him.
"You
need us, just was you need your mortal friends." She slowly began to caress
his arms, moving to his chest. He stared impassively at the ceiling but did
not pull away. He knew precisely what she was doing. It was a scene that had
been played more times than he could recall.

"I don't need anything. Not from the community at least. Not now, not ever,"
he declared. He was torn between his long standing vow to distance himself
from the lifestyle and the unfulfilled desires of the vampire. He had been
celibate for over a century. For a vampire that was a very, very long time.

With his awakening desires for a deeper relationship with Natalie, the
danger
of his losing control was looming. He'd never attempted to be exclusively
faithful to a mortal woman. Any relationship he'd had before was
short-lived.
Inevitably, he'd succumb to his desires. As he sat cuddled with Janette, he
began to think back to the centuries with his immortal sibling. One thing
was
becoming clear in that moment.  He wanted her. He needed her. How could he
resist her? But how could he forgive himself if he didn't?

"Are you sure, mon Nichola?" she purred, sliding her hands around his neck
to
pull him toward her.

"I'm sure," he declared. He kept a miniscule space between them. If not
physically, it was an emotional distance.

"Why do you fight it so?" she whispered. "One night, that's all. Then you
can
go back to your little cops and robbers game."

"I have to fight it. I have to," he said firmly.

"No, you don't. Give in to your desires, to your needs. You want me. I want
you. What is so wrong about that?" she spoke slowly, deliberately, molding
her body against his.

"I'm not the man you seduced 800 years ago, Janette. I won't let myself fall
into that life again."

"Who said anything about coming back to the community? Yes, I would welcome
you with open arms, but I am offering something far more simple. You aren't
the same man. That I realize. But the longer you ignore your needs, the more
out of control you will become. Let me ease your pain."

"I'm fine," he protested. She had not moved, nor did she seem willing to
relent.

"No, you aren't. You are strung so tight that you are about to break," she
declared.

"I told you, I'm fine," he declared.

"Shall I invite your coroner friend over?  Let her see how *fine* you are?"
she asked gently, reaching behind him for the phone.

"No," he exclaimed, turning glowing amber eyes to her.

"It is for her safety, and that of your other mortal friends that I am here,
my love. You are very close to the edge. Let me ease your pain," she
whispered, bringing her wrist to her mouth and slicing a small incision on
her hand. Holding it in offering, she sighed in delight as he kissed her
palm, lapping the droplets of blood.

"All right, yes, you win," he wrapped his arms around her. The merest taste
of her familiar essence sparked a fire in him that had long been smoldering.
"Yes, Janette, yes. I need you, I need your strength," he said fiercely.
Their mouths met with a crushing kiss.

With the haste of long-buried desires, he pulled off his shirt and tie while
she slid her gown from her shoulders. Fangs unsheathed, he drew her to him.
His kisses strayed up her arms to the juncture of her shoulder and neck. The
vein stood at attention, waiting for him, calling for him. He drove his
fangs
within her, and drank deeply of her nectar. Sighing with delight, he felt
the
sting of her fangs. Their hopes, dreams, desires became one in the mixing of
their blood.

He pulled away, the stains of feeding dripped down his back as she leaned
over him. "Are you sure you want to give this up, mon Nicola?" she
whispered.

"Janette, I can't hide anything from you and never have, but surely you can
now understand what I want," he replied, sitting straighter. He eyed his
full
goblet, but knew that the flat bottled bovine would be even more bitter now
that he'd sipped of another vampire. Especially Janette.

"Ah, yes," she commented. She'd felt a flurry of emotion from her immortal
sibling, but most prominent was the desire to be with a certain mortal
woman.
To her, the solution was simple, but nothing was ever easy with Nicholas. He
would rather torment himself than do what he needed to do. "I do understand.
I don't understand why you torture yourself so..."

"I don't want to talk about it," he commented, standing and walking away.
Leaning against the carved mantel, he spoke deliberately. "It has nothing to
do with you. I hope you know that."

"Of course," she agreed. "You don't need to talk. I will think on what you
have shared with me." She stood, and slowly approached him. Taking his hand,
she kissed it gently. "I will leave you to the solitude that you seem to
prefer. I am ever present should you change your mind."

"I won't," he declared. He watched as she left the room. As soon as the door
to the bedroom closed, he collapsed on the couch. He might allow Janette to
shelter with him for the day, but he would not share a bed with her. Sharing
her blood was more than he'd intended.

In his mind, this was the ultimate betrayal. To Natalie. To himself. He'd
never declared any commitment to Natalie, but nonetheless, he felt one. Like
the knight-errant gazing from afar, he longed for something he couldn't
have.
Faced with the ultimate temptation though, he had failed. He was too weak to
hold himself back completely.

It had been a very, very long time since he'd tasted the blood of another of
his kind. The infusion of vampiric blood had restored the sagging energy in
ways he'd not even realized were possible. He felt physically stronger than
he had in decades. It only served to sicken him spiritually. What had it
taken to restore him physically? Merely something that he'd foresworn along
with the other urges and indulgences of the life he sought to escape.

**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 06/27
Date: Fri, 1 Feb 2002 23:34:33 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: NNFic@yahoogroups.com

disclaimers in part 01

CHAPTER SIX

"Haven't seen you in a few days," Natalie commented, watching Nick's
restless
pacing.

"Hmm?" he grunted, stopping momentarily to lean against the steel autopsy
table. He wasn't sure why he'd drifted over to the coroner's building that
night. He didn't have any new cases, and she'd already provided what
information she could regard his most recent homicide.

He was still somewhat unsettled from seeing the script. Even with Janette's
denials fresh in his mind, he was not convinced that she was as blameless as
she claimed. It would not be the first time that she'd betrayed him,
claiming
it was for his own good. Even after sharing blood with her, he was uncertain
of her innocence. He had not detected anything in her memories that was of
concern, but his own emotional state made it difficult to get as clear a
picture as he might.

"You seem awfully preoccupied," she observed. "What's up?"

"It's that last case," he admitted. He did not want to reveal all of his
reasons for being distracted. Despite the fact that he'd not admitted his
feelings to her, he felt as thought the activities with Janette were a
betrayal. Explaining the nuances of acceptable vampire behavior was not a
topic for current discussion no matter the reason.

"The actor?"

"Yes," he sighed. "We're playing the professional jealousy angle, so I read
the script."

"Hit a little close to home?" she asked casually.

"A bit, yes," he nodded, settling on the corner of her desk.

"How close?" she repeated. Despite knowing him for several years and
becoming
closer as a friend and confidante, she'd learned precious little of his
origins or early years as a vampire. Her knowledge came in bits and pieces.
He seldom slipped. What he told her was deliberate.

"Close enough," he said with a non-committal shrug.

"Closer than most movies, I would take it. Is it closer than Emily Weiss's
novels?" she probed. She could almost see the veil of secrecy being dropped.
It was her biggest frustration. He claimed to trust her, but that trust went
only so far. "Nick?" she prompted.

"I have to go," he said abruptly and was gone before she could protest.

*****
The conversation, or lack thereof, bothered Natalie for the rest of the
night. What had he read in the script that had him so spooked? Over the past
several years, she and Nick had viewed every vampire film that she could
find. Generally he found them humorous or would spend the entire time
critiquing all of the flaws. While he hesitated to say much about the
accuracy of the depiction of the vampires, he never paused in his commentary
of the historical facts. This time there must be something more. Something
that she needed to understand. She needed to read the script as well.
Knowing
that Nick would have signed out already, she went to the precinct at the end
of her shift on the pretense of delivering reports.

Neither Nick, nor Schanke were in the bullpen when she sauntered in,
speaking
casually to a few of the detectives as she passed out final reports. Usually
they were sent by messenger or inter-office mail. This time, however, she
had
a purpose to coming in person. Dropping a folder on Nick's desk, she saw the
thick envelope in his 'in' box. Judging by the size, it had to be the item
of
her quest. Tucking it in the stack of folders she breezed out, pausing only
when she got to her car.

As she suspected, it was the script. , she thought to herself as she drove
home.

****
The sun was high in the sky and the coffee pot was drained when Natalie
finished reading the script. She found herself captivated by the story,
drawn
to the tale of medieval bravery and the struggle of a young crusading knight
to reconcile himself to the betrayals of those he trusted. She could
understand why the knight chose the seductive power of vampirism.

A chill ran down her back as she realized, precisely, what Nick had gone
through so many years before. He spoke very little of his mortal past, but
his reaction to the movie's script told her more than words ever could. This
*was* his story.

As long as she'd known Nick, known of his 'condition', she knew he cursed
his
existence but she never knew why. She still didn't know why, but she did
understand better what led him to make the decisions that he had.

It was time for a serious discussion.

****
Without bothering to call ahead, Natalie went directly to the loft. She was
beyond the need for sleep now. Her mind was moving a mile a minute and until
she spoke to Nick, she could not relax.

The room was dark except for a single candle on the grand piano. Nick would
still be sleeping. Settling into the overstuffed leather chair, Natalie
pulled out the script and began re-reading it. She could wait.

It didn't take long though, for Nick to appear at the top of the stairs,
still wearing his pajamas and a loose red silk robe. "Nat?" he questioned,
seeing her in the main room. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't think we finished our discussion," she said simply, watching as he
walked down the stairs, belting the robe as he came closer.

"What discussion?" he asked, confused.

She held up the script, "I had to see what was bugging you."

"So did you?" he sighed, crossing to the refrigerator. He knew it bothered
her, but *this* discussion called for fortification.

"Yes," she said shortly, watching him drain half a bottle of blood. He
usually did not drink that much around her unless he was trying to make a
point. Coming over unannounced with the intent of forcing a discussion was
probably not the wisest thing she'd ever done but she was tired of his
evasiveness. "I do understand."

"You understand?" he retorted. "How can you understand? You've never lived
my
life. You've never felt the insatiable hunger that drives you to do
unspeakable things. You don't *know* anything. You don't *understand*
anything."

"Who's fault is that?" she commented sarcastically. She'd refrained from
commenting on the quantity of blood that he drank, but she would not allow
the conversation to degenerate any further. "I've never asked, and you've
never told me. I try to help you, but you don't tell me if I *am* helping.
I'm grasping at straws here and I don't know what and why I'm doing it."

"Nat," he sighed, plopping on the couch with a heavy sigh. "I didn't mean to
turn this into a shouting match. You help me simply by being my friend."

"I'm glad to hear that," she nodded with a tentative smile. "If you'd let me
continue, what I meant was this. If this script parallels at all the events
of your life, I understand why you'd make the decisions that you did. I
understand why Sir Robert chose to become a vampire. Everything in his world
was not as he believed. He was surrounded by death and was powerless to
change anything, including his own destiny. It's no wonder that he'd take
Sir
Julius's offer."

Nick was silent, reflecting on her words. She'd hit upon the very essence of
his decision without a word from him.

"Nick?" she prompted. "Am I right? Is that what's bugging you? Did this hit
a
raw nerve or something?"

"I suppose," he spoke softly. "They even used the exact phrase that LaCroix
used to call me back."

"What's that?" she probed. Now that she had him talking, she wasn't about to
stop him.

"He promised me a thousand lifetimes, a power beyond my understanding," he
recited, watching as Natalie thumbed through the pages finding the quote.

She sat back in the chair, setting the sheaf of papers on the end table.
"OK,
so what has changed? He gave you all that he promised."

"He only told me half the truth. He didn't tell me the cost," Nick replied
coldly. "He didn't tell me that I'd become a killer."

"But as a soldier, you'd killed men. What makes this so different?" Natalie
used her most professional, matter-of-fact voice. If she was going to
succeed
in getting him to open up to her, she could not allow this to disintegrate
into an emotional shouting match again.

"That's different," he declared.

"How is it different, Nick? Tell me. I was never a soldier, so I don't
understand."

"It just *is*," he said stubbornly. "My hunger has driven me to do
unspeakable things. I still could. I could do it now."

She remained still, emotionless. She knew the tactic. He was trying to
rattle
her. "I know that. I also know that you don't. You stopped a long time ago,
or so you claim." Their eyes met, and she continued, "You killed for
sustenance. What is different from me eating meat?"

"You don't take someone's husband in front of them, drain them dry," he
spoke
low, his voice taking on the rumbling low tones that heralded the vampire's
emergence. "You don't *enjoy* it. You don't do it for sport."

"All right, so I'm not intimately acquainted with my dinner," she
acknowledged, ignoring his tone of voice. She refused to cave into his
melancholy. "I also know that there are plenty of blood banks now. You could
satisfy your hunger without killing. That doesn't explain everything."

"Blood banks didn't exist 800 years ago, Nat," he commented.

"I *know* that," she retorted. "There has to be more than that, or you would
not be going to such lengths to try to go back now."

"Are you saying that you won't help me?"

"No, not at all. I think I understand what led you to become a vampire. What
I don't understand is why you want to become mortal. What do you hope to
accomplish?"

"Redemption," he breathed. "Forgiveness in the eyes of God."

"And you can't do that as a vampire?" she questioned.

"Of course not," he asserted emphatically. "How can I say I will 'sin no
more' if I'm still a creature of the night?"

"I'm not a theologian, so tell me this. Which of the commandments do you
violate simply by living as a vampire, Nick?"

"All of them," Nick answered vehemently.

"I find that hard to believe," she sighed. "Regardless, it seems to me that
if you prayed and asked for God's forgiveness, it wouldn't matter if you
were
a vampire, or a mortal."

"It would matter. It does matter. I can't do this anymore. I just can't live
this life," his voice rose louder and with his last statement he stood and
was gone in a flash. The shutters has risen during their conversation, and
despite her repeated calls, he was gone.

**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 07/27
Date: Fri, 1 Feb 2002 23:37:53 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: NNFic@yahoogroups.com

CHAPTER SEVEN

Reporting to work with no sleep, Natalie was running on adrenaline and
caffeine. Fortunately, there was enough work to keep her mind occupied.   If
she'd had to stare at the computer screen or a pile of papers, she would
have
fallen asleep for sure.

Walking into the lounge for her third mug of coffee for the night, she was
surprised to see Don Schanke coming down the hallway. "Nat, hey wait up," he
called out. She paused at the door and waited until he was closer.

"Awfully late for you to be up and around," she commented, glancing at the
clock.

"Blame Nick," he shrugged.

"Oh? What did Nick do?"

"It's more, what did Nick *not* do?" Don grinned, following Natalie into the
lounge and helping himself to a package of crackers. "Like show up to work
tonight."

"Nick called in?"

"Not exactly. We got a new case at shift change. He didn't show up at the
scene, so I'm doing a little recon before I go back to the shop."

"For Nick or for the case? I didn't get that call, so I can't help you with
the case," Natalie replied with a casualness that did not reveal her true
feelings. "The body might be here soon. You asking me to do the post
tonight?"

"That's okay. Frank was at the scene. If he does the post tomorrow morning,
that's fine. I'm more worried about my partner. You seen him today?"

"No, I haven't," she lied. There was no point in telling Don about her
discussion earlier. It would raise more questions than it answered. Her
relationship with Nick and their work together was carefully concealed both
from their mortal co-workers and from the vampire community.

"Sure about that?"

"You know something I don't?" Natalie questioned.

"Just that Nickie-boy watches you a little closer than the average
co-worker.
I think there's more going on here than either of you are telling old
Donnie."

"You have a very fertile imagination," she smiled. "If it makes you feel
better, I'll do a little search mission for you. I've got the codes to
Nick's
loft. I'll go check on him."

"You have the keys to the castle?" Don's eyes lit up. "Oh, wait'll I see
him.
 Just friends?"

"Don?" she sighed. "Leave it alone. For my sake, please."

"All right, all right," he grumbled. He was secretly glad that his
suspicions
were true. Few men gave a woman free access to their residence unless there
was more than just friendship. Nick might be secretive, but his feelings for
Natalie were evident in every glance. He just didn't know why the two of
them
were choosing to keep secret what was so obvious to those that knew them.

She waited until Don was out of sight before going back to the office to get
her purse and coat. After a brief word to the receptionist she headed to the
isolated warehouse where Nick lived. It was dark. The caddy was still in the
garage but he was not there. His words just before he'd fled the loft that
afternoon were fresh in her mind... <can't live this life>. If she didn't
know better, she'd think that to be a suicidal statement.

Only once before had she seen him in that much of a funk.  That was after a
failed attempt to use a '12 step program' to attack his addiction to blood.
His solution was to go to the Raven and drink heavily. She had found him
there after Janette had called Schanke. Her contact with Janette had been
brief but tense. She knew that the vampiress had a relationship with Nick
but
she didn't know much more. It was worth facing whatever attitude Janette
chose to give her to find Nick, or at find out if her fears were justified.

The club was much as she remembered from her infrequent visits before. Dark,
noisy, crowded. At one point in her life, she had enjoyed going dancing with
friends at similar clubs but that had been years ago. Letting her eyes
adjust
to the dark, she surveyed the crowd before she saw the tall dark haired
woman
standing at the end of the bar.

Their eyes met, as if Janette had been expecting her, or knew that she was
there. It gave Natalie a chill to realize that in all likelihood, Janette
had
seen her or heard her enter. Taking a deep breath she pushed her way through
the crowd.

"Doctor, a pleasure to see you again," Janette commented, her voice oozing
with sarcasm.

"You can cut the attitude, Janette. I just want to talk."

"Nicholas is not here," she observed, taking a long drought from her goblet.

Natalie stood firm, unphased by her efforts to shake her. After her last
meeting with Nick, she wasn't sure that anyone would be able to rattle her.
"I didn't think he would be. I came to see you."

"Oh? Indeed, I am curious now," she studied the mortal woman closely and saw
no sign of fear.  "What could you possibly wish to speak to me about?"

"What do you think?" Natalie retorted. "What, or whom, shall I say, do we
have in common?"

"So you wish to *discuss* Nicholas?" she questioned, her tone holding the
barest veneer of civility. "If this is an attempt to ask me to leave him
alone, I assure you that it is *he* who seeks me out, not I. We have a
relationship that you could not even begin to understand and always will."

"I know that. I understand more than you think I do." Natalie kept her voice
even. No matter how her feelings toward Nick had grown, she did not know
that
they were mutual. It would not serve any purpose to alienate her only
resource to understanding a man who had lived centuries.

Janette paused for a moment before responding. It did not surprise her that
Nick would befriend such a strong woman. She had used her best verbal and
non-verbal intimidation skills and Natalie held her ground. Setting her
glass
on the bar, she commented, "I suppose that Nicholas is out serving and
protecting and that is why you are so certain that he isn't here."

"Truthfully, I don't know where he is. He didn't show up for work tonight
and
his partner asked me to find him," she acknowledged. Leaning closer, she let
herself show the emotion that she'd held back. Fear. It was in her
expression
and voice. "He said some things tonight that bother me. I'm worried about
his
state of mind."

"You think he might do himself harm?" Janette asked, her voice softening.
She
feared the same thing. If he was acting self-destructive around his mortal
friend then perhaps it was a valid concern. Considering that he treated his
employment among mortals as more than a mere diversion, the fact that he
would fail to report to the job he took so seriously was indeed a worrisome
issue.

"He might," Natalie replied. She must have hit a chord, since there was an
abrupt change in attitude. No longer was Janette giving her the disdainful
attitude.

"I think we need to take this discussion somewhere more private," she
commented and led Natalie through a long corridor to a back office. It was
quieter, but just as dark. She unlocked the door and stood aside for Natalie
to enter the room.

Pouring a goblet full of wine, she gestured to a pair of overstuffed chairs.
Handing the goblet to Natalie, she sat opposite. A glass bottle was on the
end table with a goblet. Janette paused to fill her own glass before
commenting, "Don't worry, it's a merlot."

"Thank you, I didn't think you'd give me the same beverage as yours."

"You know what I am drinking?"

"Of course, I do. I'm not stupid. I know what you would be drinking."

"That does not bother you?" Janette asked, taking a very deliberate drink.
"From the woman who has been urging Nicholas to abstain from doing the
same?"

"Look, I have no arguments with your lifestyle. I'm a doctor, I'm only doing
what Nick wants. He doesn't want to be a vampire. He doesn't want to kill to
feed his hunger. He was drinking cow's blood long before we met. Long before
I was born. I realize that you have different opinions. It isn't my place to
make judgments regarding your choice of beverage. I would hope that it's
freely donated and if it isn't, I really would rather not know."

"Enlightened attitude," she mused. "Not exactly what I expected, but then
again, we really have not spoken on such issues. Now then, why did you seek
me out?"

Natalie straightened in the chair, still somewhat self-conscious around the
more elegantly dressed vampire. She'd never been in this section of the
club,
and had really not spent much time with any vampire except for Nick. "I'm
worried about Nick."

"Worried?" Janette prompted.

"We had a discussion this evening and he said some things that bother me and
then he didn't show up at work tonight. I didn't know where else to turn."

"What *exactly* did he say?"

"That he couldn't live this life," Natalie quoted.

"Perhaps he is moving on. We do that fairly frequently," she commented
casually. Ever since the day she'd spent with him, Janette had felt
unsettling emotions from Nick. She knew he was alive, and unhurt, but that
was all she knew for sure.

"No, it isn't that. He left very suddenly. I'm worried that he might do harm
to himself."

Janette sighed. She had detected a strong burst of emotion from him earlier
that evening. Without their sire to hold the threads of their connection
together, she only would feel very strong outbursts and would not be able to
discern the reasons for it. Even with their very recent encounter, she did
not feel their bond as she once had. "What were you discussing?"

"It's complicated," Natalie explained. "There's a case we're working on."

"The movie. Yes, I know. It was *not* a vampire, I assure you."

"I know," she acknowledged. Somehow, she was not surprised that she knew
about the case. If she'd read Nick's behavior correctly, he'd been to see
Janette to discuss the case- and maybe more. "I figured that part out. Well,
Nick read the script and he's been acting weird ever since."

"Yes, I can believe that," she sighed.

"Janette, I read the script too. I figured out what bothered him and went to
his place before sunset to talk to him. He told me of the parallels to his
own life, even to use quotations that he recalled."

"Ah, so that is why he accused me of revealing secrets," she nodded. "I
wondered where he was drawing connections. Most Hollywood interpretations of
the vampire life are so laughable that I did not take him seriously."

"We got into a more serious discussion than we've ever had before. I asked
him why he wants to be mortal. I don't know. He just sort of snapped and
disappeared."

"And so you came to me?" she questioned. She still was not sure how to
handle
Nick's mortal friend. While she was getting to understand the young woman in
a clearer sense, she was not sure how far to go in their discussion. "How do
you know that I am not sheltering him so that he can move on?"

"If you are, tell me and I'll leave. I won't worry if that's what he wants,"
Natalie replied. "I hope that he'd at least say 'good-bye' when he does move
on, but if he doesn't, well, I can't do anything about it." She eyed the
woman suspiciously. "You don't know where he is? Do you?"

"No, I don't," Janette acknowledged. "I just wanted to know your intent."

"I'm worried about him. Is it possible for a vampire to commit suicide?"
Natalie asked softly.

Janette snapped to attention, focusing directly on the other woman's
heartbeat. Her concern was honest. She'd risked her life to come to someone
she might consider a rival. Perhaps it was time for some honesty. "Yes, it
is. Did Nicholas ever tell you of Erika?"

"The 'old friend' he lost several months ago?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Did you know her? Nick talked a little about her but he was in one of his
self-destructive moods and didn't say much."

"Yes, I knew her. She was an actress and play-writer that had a relationship
with Nicholas in the 16th century. I'd watched over her for the past decade
when she came to Toronto. She could not keep up. She grew tired of living
and
walked into the dawn."

"Do you think Nick could do the same thing?"

"I suppose it is possible, but Nicholas is different. Erika's depression
lasted several centuries. She did not grow and change with time. She was
still in the theater after all this time. Still writing plays and
performing.
She had always said that when she was no longer contributing to society that
she would end her life. I suppose it was her time. It happens. No matter how
much you love something, 500 years is a long time to continue the same
activity and lifestyle. I have done numerous things over the centuries. I
may
try fashion design next. One cannot stagnate, or eternity becomes a chore
and
not a joy.  These lives that we create to interact with the world are our
playthings. They are diversions to make eternity more interesting, but we
cannot take them seriously."

"Nick does," Natalie interrupted.

"I know he does," she acknowledged. "He always has taken life seriously. He
has been hurt more than I can tell you. He's been forced to relocate, made
friends only to watch them grow old and die. It takes great mental fortitude
to survive when all around you do not."

"You've known Nick longer than anyone. Do you think it possible that he's
given up?" Natalie could not help but show the fear that had prompted her to
seek out a woman some might think to be her rival.

"Hmmm, I doubt it but your concern is justified," Janette mused. "He has
great strength. He adapts well to changing technology, changing language. He
has held numerous professional roles."

"But he wants to go back, be mortal."

"He had that notion the first night after LaCroix brought him over," Janette
sighed. "I thought we had gotten past it when he seemed to embrace the life
for the first few centuries. The questions and distance grew greater and he
tried to leave us for most of the 19th century."

"Leave you?"

"Well, leave LaCroix," she explained. "Our sire was never far from either of
us. He gave me greater rein than he ever gave Nicholas, but I never
disappointed him. Nicholas has, and on more than one occasion. It has only
been in the past sixty or so years that Nicholas has succeeded in being more
than one step ahead or that LaCroix would leave him alone."

"Other than to thwart his efforts to be cured," Natalie observed.

"Can you blame him?" Janette asked. "Would you not protect your offspring
from harm? Our Nicholas may have adapted to the vampire life and has the
mental fortitude to live for eternity but he is so careless. He leaps before
he looks and always has. He would no sooner be happy as a mortal than he is
a
vampire. I do not believe the grass is greener, so to speak, on the other
side. He does. He is looking at mortality to bring him the happiness that he
has not found as a vampire. Not that he was truly happy when he *was*
mortal,
so I'm not really sure what he wants."

"Redemption," Natalie commented thoughtfully. This was not a conversation
she
would have ever predicted. She had always assumed that Janette would know
all
that there was to know about Nick, including why he wanted to regain
mortality. "That's what he wants. Redemption for his sins."

"Hmmm. Well, we don't need worry about suicide then. If he is still
concerned
about matters of faith, then he will not take his own life. I vaguely recall
some prohibition by the church of such actions."

"Yes, especially if he was Catholic," Natalie confirmed.

"You need to question that?" she could not help being sarcastic. "That *was*
the church in the 13th century, Natalie. He was a man of faith. That was one
of the things that attracted LaCroix. He might say that he no longer
believes
in the church, but I don't believe him."

"So his faith won't allow him to take his own life. That doesn't mean he
won't put himself in a position where another might take his life," Natalie
added.

Shooting her an intense glance, Janette nodded. "Perhaps that is why he is
so
often in law enforcement."

"But you can't be killed by conventional means, so that doesn't make sense."

"No, it makes a lot of sense to me," Janette said thoughtfully. "He gets
shot
frequently does he not?"

"Yeah," Natalie laughed nervously. "If I had a dime for every bullet that I
dug out of him, I'd be able to retire."

"So you see, he *is* allowing himself to be symbolically killed in place of
another, a mortal who would not bounce back." She leaned back in her chair
and thoughtfully swirled the wine in her glass.

"What can I do?" Natalie asked softly. She had not thought of it in that
manner but Janette was right.

"Right now? Nothing. He will contemplate his unlife in some secret place for
a while and then he'll come back. This is not unusual behavior for him. He
won't tell you where he went. He never does. I, too, am concerned about
Nicholas's well-being. Physically and emotionally." She stood next to
Natalie's chair. Their conversation had convinced her that Nick was right.
This woman could be trusted. In fact, having her as an ally might serve her
purpose in more ways than she'd imagined. "I think we will get further if we
work together and not separately. Besides, it has been a long time since
I've
had a friend who was not of the community."

"What difference does that make?"

"Among our kind, age brings increased strength and skill as well as social
position. Without revealing my precise age, I will tell you that I am older
than Nicholas and there is no one else in Toronto that is more than half my
age. I am treated with deference as is proper but I have no peers. No equals
that I may speak my mind with."

"So you want to do a little 'girl-talk'?"

"I suppose that is the best term," she smiled. "You are welcome to come
back,
if you so desire. I believe we have more in common than you think."

"I'll keep that in mind," Natalie agreed. To her this seemed quite ironic.
Nick had done his utmost to set them up to be enemies, or at least rivals.
That they would become the unlikeliest of friends was unexpected to say the
least. She could not be certain that Janette did not have some other motive,
but was willing to explore this alliance.

**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 08/27
Date: Sat, 2 Feb 2002 22:00:43 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu
CC: NNFic@yahoogroups.com

disclaimers in part 01

CHAPTER EIGHT

Nick reappeared at the precinct the following night, as if nothing had
happened. When asked, he merely shrugged and mumbled something about
"following a lead."  It was not totally foreign behavior for him. As
penance,
Schanke had left a stack of missing persons reports to collate and sort
while
cross checking against the case that had come in while Nick was
'unavailable'. Menial tasks that he knew Nick would detest.

Knowing better than to complain, Nick spent the evening at his desk. It was
not that he was really *avoiding* Natalie, but he didn't know how to respond
to her right now. She had, without his assistance, figured out more about
his
psyche than anyone ever before. Her assessment was uncannily accurate. Some
of her questions were leading him to think seriously about his quest. He
could not articulate why he wanted mortality. It had been his desire for so
long that he'd forgotten the reasons. At first it was the killing, the
insatiable hunger that fought reason. But did that same rationale apply in
the era of blood banks and voluntary donation?

He barely noticed the pair of nervous men who appeared toward the end of his
shift and were closeted in conversation with the captain. They were at a
standstill with the murder of the actor. No one knew anything, and Nick had
not been able to find anything in the script that would suggest professional
jealousy. At least nothing that was in writing. He still had his suspicions.
For once, he regretted not being present at the questioning of the other
cast
members. He was certain that he would have obtained information that Schanke
had not.

***
Stonetree greeted the men wearily. He had nothing to report to the producers
of the film and was growing impatient with the inability to find anything to
implicate anyone. "If you're here to look for answers, I'm afraid I don't
have any."

"No, actually, we're here to talk about another issue," the taller of the
two
men commented, taking the chair that the captain had gestured to.

"Go on," Stonetree prompted, taking out a pad of paper.

"I apologize for not saying anything earlier but Bob has been reluctant to
report all the incidents," the other man said with a sigh.

"Incidents?" Stonetree questioned. "You know anything about this Paul?"

"I guess that's the best way to describe them. At first we thought they were
just pranks," he replied. "Any project is bound to have a jokester on the
set. Usually they're things like giving someone a dummied script revision or
hanging things on their door. Mike has seen more serious things happening."

"Things had started before the murder, but no one noticed. We had a lighting
guy fall off a ladder yesterday. I thought it was an accident but on closer
inspection, we could tell that there'd been some tampering."

"Is the guy okay?" Stonetree asked quickly.

"Oh, yeah... some bruises and he was a little shaken up. He wasn't up high.
The pranks have gotten vicious is all Bob told us. Makeup with black goo
hidden inside, costumes falling apart, cockroaches in dressing rooms, that
sort of thing. We had a sound board spark and one of the technicians was
shocked but wasn't hurt. "

"Is it possible that this could be related to the murder?" Mike asked with
obvious reluctance.

"I wouldn't rule anything out," Stonetree said thoughtfully. "I think the
best option at this point is to have one of my men in the studio
undercover."

"Whatever you think," Paul replied quickly. "I'm happy to cooperate with the
police in any way that I can. We have a lot of money invested in the film,
so
we'll do whatever it takes. Are you thinking of getting someone on a tech
crew or what? We have union rules that need to be watched so if you're
thinking of a technician, I'll need to do more preparation."

"I had spoken to your director about using an undercover officer," Stonetree
added. "We agreed at that time to wait until you were actively casting some
parts. He and I felt that putting someone on a crew would not be as
effective
as having our man come into the studio as an extra."

"That makes sense," Mike mused. "There were so many cops investigating, is
it
possible to have someone who has not been to the studio?"

"As a matter of fact, one of my detectives who has been doing a lot of the
background work on the case has not actually been to the scene," Stonetree
replied. "He's on duty right now. I'll let you meet him." He rose and went
to
the door, "Knight," he called out, gesturing for Nick to come to the office.

Seated opposite the desk were two casually dressed men. Nick glanced at them
curiously when he entered, and stood against the bookshelf. "Cap?" he
questioned.

"These are the producers of the film that we've been investigating, Paul
James and Mike Izzo." He nodded toward the two men.

"Nick Knight," Nick extended his hand to greet each man.

"Nick is partnered with Detective Schanke so he knows the case."

"Don't think I met you yet," Paul commented, looking at Mike for
confirmation. "There were a lot of cops there, but if you'd been at the
studio as much as Detective Schanke, I'm sure I'd have run into you."

"I only work the night shift, so I haven't actually been to the set." Nick
explained. "Is there something I can help you with? I'm sure the captain has
told you where we are."

"Yes, there is and I think this will work," Mike commented.

Seeing Nick's questioning look, Stonetree held up a hand to silence further
comments. "Paul and Mike came over tonight to discuss certain incidents that
have been happening on the set that are arousing some concern."

"Incidents?" Nick questioned.

"Nothing serious enough alone to cause us to call the police, but when you
add them up, I have to wonder," Paul explained. "Loose lights, tampered
costumes. Some things were simply annoyances or could be pranks."

"Since the murder is still unsolved, folks are a little on edge though. It
took a while before Bob even said anything to us, but since the filming
schedule is already behind because we've needed to recast a fairly major
role, we can't afford too many more delays." Mike explained.

"So where do I fit in?" Nick questioned.

"We think that someone on the inside has a grudge, or doesn't want the film
to be completed. We want someone to go undercover." Stonetree explained.

"Ever done any acting?" Mike asked.

"A bit," Nick replied cautiously.

"Theater or film?"

"Theater," Nick commented. "But it's been a while, and strictly amateur
stuff," he said quickly. "What do you have in mind?"

"You'd come to an open casting call as an extra," Stonetree explained.  "The
only ones that know you're a cop are here. The director and casting director
won't know that you're a police officer. They've been told that we're
putting
an undercover cop on the set but they won't know when, where or who it is.
It's up to you to either get on the set as an extra, or get a small part."

"You don't want me to simply be part of the crew?" Nick asked. While he had
more acting experience than he'd *ever* say, he thought it more likely to be
on the crew.

"No, we want you to have access to the dressing rooms, and conversation
among
the cast," Stonetree said.  "If you're an extra, you're more likely to have
down time. If you're crew, they'll put you to work and you won't be able to
do as much investigating."

"Haven't you pretty much casted everything?" Nick questioned, glancing
between the producers.

"When we lost Marcus, we were about halfway through filming. His role was
fairly substantial and we'd had to re-shoot a lot of scenes. Because of the
cost, we've re-worked the script and increased the storyline involving Jake
who is our other lead. We still need to recast Sir Robert, and some minor
parts that were developed as part of Jake's back-story. With all that's
happened in the past week, we had two other actors walk out. They are
convinced that the movie is haunted or some such nonsense."

"But you're still finishing the movie? You aren't going to simply stop and
say forget it?" Nick questioned.

"No, I'm committed to the project," Mike answered. "Besides, Jake's agent
insisted on payment up front, so if we don't finish and air it, we're out a
lot of money."

"I knew that guy was trouble," Paul mumbled under his breath.

"Well, it's too late to do anything now," Mike responded with a tired sigh.

"You think Jake is behind all the accidents?" Nick questioned. "Is he
capable
of violence?'

"I wouldn't put it past him, at least the pranks. I don't think he'd kill
anyone. That isn't his style."

"No, he'd rather embarrass them on camera," Paul commented. "Like a costume
that was missing a few seams.  It was funny the first time, but I've seen
that happen on three projects that he was involved in. It's an old joke and
isn't funny anymore."

"I get the picture," Nick said grimly. "I'll watch him."

****
Spending the rest of the shift compiling progress reports on all the work he
had in progress, Nick never left his desk. He was accustomed to abstaining
while working but had not fed that evening before coming in to work.  After
his discussion with Natalie he'd flown to his favorite meditation spot. It
was an outcropping on Lake Ontario's rocky shore that was a flight of
several
hours duration. There was a nearby cave that he used for shelter when the
sun's rays became harmful.

The last thing that he expected was to hear the familiar rhythm of Natalie's
heart beat approach. That and the ever-present fragrance of her perfume,
both
what she applied and what was her natural aroma... her rich, warm blood
called to him. It was stronger than usual. Without conscious thought, his
fangs pressed against his upper lip. Willing himself into submission, he
looked up, and gave her a small smile of greeting.

"Nat?" he questioned.

"So you've reappeared," she commented. "Had us worried there."

"I'm fine," he assured her, standing and taking a few steps back as she got
closer. He knew what it was that made his senses come alive. That one week
every month that he had to stay as far away from her as possible. The
temptation was so great. Her blood was too accessible. If he stayed one more
minute, he would not be able to hold himself back. "I have to go," he said
suddenly and rushed out the door. He was gone before Natalie could respond.

She looked around in confusion <what just happened here?> she thought to
herself. Nick had done his share of disappearing acts but never twice in a
row. Forgetting to finish the task that had brought her to the precinct in
the first place, Natalie headed out to her car.

She pulled out her cell phone and began calling him. First the home phone.
Next the cell phone. Then she paged him. Repeatly.

There was no response.  It was time for another 'recon' mission.

As it was the other evening, the loft was dark. She knew that he had left
the
caddy at the precinct. She let herself in, and called out several times.
"Nick, I'm not giving up. I just want to talk."

She could not tell if he was there, but knew that he would not respond to
her. She'd come back *after* she went to her new resource.

>From his perch, high above the skylight, Nick watched her leave. Only then
did he come inside. He had feared that she would wait for him. He could not
face her. Not until he had his desires under control. Her protein shakes
could not satisfy his hunger and to be around her right now would be
dangerous.   Only blood would ease his pain. The cold steer blood was a pale
imitation of what he wanted, what he needed. She could give it to him but he
was too embarrassed to ask. The fact that he even wanted it was a mortifying
thought.
**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 09/27
Date: Sun, 3 Feb 2002 23:01:44 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu
CC: NNFic@yahoogroups.com

Disclaimers in part 01

CHAPTER NINE

The bouncer gave her a bored nod as he held open the door. Pushing her way
through the mass of people to reach the bar, she could not help but notice
that she was getting a lot of second glances. She had not frequented clubs
much since her university days but she knew leering looks and it puzzled
her.

"Come with me," a terse voice came from behind her before she had a chance
to
speak to the bartender and a cool hand grasped her upper arm.

Natalie looked up and saw Janette standing next to her with an expression
that bordered on concern. Obediently she followed the woman to a back room
and watched curiously as Janette closed the door firmly.

"Are you naïve, or simply ignorant?" she asked harshly.

"What are you talking about?" Natalie asked with genuine confusion.

"Hmm... you are both, it would seem," she announced, gesturing to a pair of
overstuffed chairs in the far corner of the room. Filling two goblets, she
handed one to Natalie and sat in the other chair. "If you'd prefer a
different beverage, let me know."

Natalie sipped from the wine and looked around. They were in Janette's
private office, much as they had the first time that she'd come to the club.
"I did come here to speak to you, but I didn't plan on being hustled into
your office. What just happened out there?"

"Surely you understand what kind of club this is," she commented and waited
for Natalie to nod slowly. "I am sure you realized the attention you were
attracting. Did you not?"

"Well, yes. I haven't had that many men look at me since... well, I don't
think I've ever had that many men look that way at me," she admitted with an
embarrassed smile.

"Before you inflate your ego too much, I assure you that it had nothing to
do
with your looks. Did you not notice that the women were also watching your
every move?" She smiled at the discomfort that Natalie showed clearly. "It
has everything to do with the calendar."

"Calendar?"

"Don't be stupid," Janette admonished harshly. "Are you so foolish as to not
realize that we all know what time of the month it is?" With Natalie's
continued silence and puzzled look, she sighed before replying, "You are
menstruating, are you not?"

Natalie flushed crimson, holding her arms tight against her middle. "Yes,"
she squeaked. "How do you know?"

Janette simply tapped her nose, and refilled Natalie's wine glass. "It was
not wise for you to come in here unescorted. Even the young ones who know
you
are Nicholas's friend were finding it hard to resist. All of us noticed."

"I didn't realize," she began. Shifting her gaze to far corners of the dark
room, afraid to make eye contact, she spoke in a cautious tone. "So Nick
knows too?"

"Most assuredly. He would always know."

"He's never said anything," she whispered.

"That does not surprise me. Nicholas is too much the gentleman to speak of
such matters. I would imagine that he avoids you more often than not when
you
are having your cycle."

Natalie was silent for a moment. It had never crossed her mind. "That
explains it," she said softly.

"Explains what?" Janette questioned, draining her glass and then refilling
it.

"I was at the precinct. I'd just said 'hello' to Nick and he backed away
from
me and then left in a big hurry."

Nodding with understanding, Janette took her hand lightly, "Natalie, it
isn't
your fault. He is unaccustomed to speaking of matters of intimacy. He would
never *tell* you. He probably did not feed appropriately and was losing
control."

"I went to his place, but he wasn't there," she commented with an
embarrassed
shrug. "If I'd known..."

"Yes, I know. You have more common sense," she leaned back in the chair and
spoke deliberately. "Or at least you have sense about things that you've
been
taught. I would not expect you to know that I can smell your blood. All the
time."

"Not just...?"

"No. Our senses are enhanced." She explained. "Natalie, I did not mean to
embarrass you. I can believe that Nicholas had not warned you of this
particular issue. Nevertheless, I am sure that he would not be happy that
you
came here unescorted at any time, not just this week." She stood and walked
over to her desk, pulling out a small envelope, which she handed to Natalie
without a word.

Opening it, Natalie withdrew a key, and looked at Janette, puzzled. "What's
this for?"

"Your protection," she smiled. "It is the key to the back door. Should you
desire further discussion and I am not readily available, please come
upstairs to my private apartment. It would not be wise for you to spend much
time unescorted in the club. I am also thinking that perhaps it is time that
someone told you enough to allow your safe interaction with our kind."

Looking at her confused, Natalie answered carefully, "safe interaction?"

"You've known of us for several years and you've maintained silence. I trust
you and I know that Nicholas does as well. I am sure that you have
questions.
I doubt that Nicholas has allowed you to voice them, much less answered
them.
For as much as he says he wants to be mortal, he probably has not told you
enough about himself to allow you to really do the sort of research that
you'd need to do. If you have questions that he will not answer, come to me.
Unless it is something that the knowledge of which would cause you danger, I
will clarify anything you wish."

"Thanks," she began, looking at Janette with obvious confusion. "I can't
help
asking you why. We've not exactly been friends, why are you doing this?"

"For exactly the reasons that we discussed the last time that you came here.
I have an ulterior motive, you realize."

"And that is?"

"Nicholas's well being. We have a bond that you would not understand. What
hurts him, hurts me." She was firm, matter-of-fact but her expression
revealed the deep emotion she felt. "Perhaps if you understood more about
our
kind, you'd be able to help him more."

"Okay," she said cautiously. "So you are telling me that your sense of smell
invades my privacy, is that it?"

"There is a reason and it isn't to invade anyone's privacy," Janette
commented. "Natalie, there have not always been blood banks or the ability
to
bottle blood."

"I know," she acknowledged.

"Then you know what our senses are designed to do. Our vision, hearing,
smell, are all designed for life in the darkness and the ability to find and
track our prey."

Natalie shuddered at Janette's words. She knew intellectually that she spoke
the truth. It did not make it easier to hear.

"I know that is not what you want to hear, but it might help you
understand."

"I....I know," Natalie said softly. "That is the life that Nick is trying to
escape. The life that treats humanity as prey."

"It is what we are," Janette said gently. "He never did acclimate completely
to it. There was always an underlying current of guilt. In any event, I
would
guess that Nicholas was hungry and when you arrived, he could not help
dropping his fangs. His body knew what it needed, even if his mind would not
allow it."

"So he took off," Natalie responded, finishing the thought.

"Exactly. Rest assured, he is somewhere wallowing in guilt for allowing
himself to 'lose control'."

"But he didn't lose control," Natalie protested.

"In his mind, he did. He walks a very fine tightrope between worlds." She
drank another full goblet. Even being well fed, Janette knew why Nick would
not want to be with his friend right now. The blood scent was overpowering.
If he desired her as a woman in any degree, this would be torture. Having
shared blood and therefore, memories with her immortal sibling just that
week, she knew precisely what he felt about Natalie. Those feelings were not
of a platonic nature either.

"Then I should just stay away from him for the rest of the week?" she
protested.  "How can I do that? What if I am called to a scene that he is
covering?"

"I'll talk to him," she offered. "Wait until tonight and then call him. He
will be in a better frame of mind. Think of it this way. You have known him
for several years, and did not know of his reaction to your cycle. You
simply
caught him in a weak moment." She paused, and took Natalie's hand loosely.
"As you have drawn closer to my world, you will learn things that Nicholas
has hidden. His intent was not to deceive but to protect. Much as you might
resent it, he is concerned for your safety."

"I can take care of myself," she protested.

"Among your own kind, yes, you can.  Against vampires, I think not. You do
not know what you are up against. Heed our warning, Natalie. Allow Nicholas
and I to protect you."

Natalie nodded silently. Her first tendency was to protest anyone
'protecting' her, but there was something in Janette's eyes that told her
that this was not something to shrug off.

**to be continued**

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 10/27
Date: Mon, 4 Feb 2002 19:02:03 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: fkfic@lists.psu.edu
CC: NNFic@yahoogroups.com

disclaimers in part 01

CHAPTER TEN

Landing softly in the center of the room, a bottle cradled in the crook of
her arm, Janette shook her head with exasperation at the sight before her.
Disheveled, paint stains splattered across his shirt, Nick was painting.

"What do you want?" he asked irritably. He did not take his eyes off the
canvas.

"Interesting," she mused, her calm voice belied the urge she felt to shake
him senseless. "What are you calling it?"

"Janette, I asked you a question," he commented with a sigh, setting the
brush on the edge of the frame. He turned to see her sitting in the center
of
the couch, leaning back comfortably.

"I had a visitor at the club this evening," she explained, uncorking her
bottle.

"I'm sure you have a lot of visitors at the club or you wouldn't be in
business. What makes you think I would be interested?" He pulled a bottle
out
of the refrigerator and grabbed a couple of goblets before sitting in the
chair opposite her. It was quite obvious that she had something to say to
him, and would not leave until she had said it.

"Ah, but I think you would be interested in this visitor," she replied,
filling  her glass. She gestured to his glass but he held his hand over it.

"No thanks, Janette. I have my own."

She sighed. "That is why I am here." She took a drink before continuing. "My
visitor was your friend Natalie."

"Natalie was at the Raven? Tonight?" he asked with obvious concern. He
stood,
as if to leave.

"Relax, mon frere, she is safe. A bit more educated, perhaps, but safe for
the time being. I would assume that she's gone to her office. She left the
club an hour ago."

"More educated?" He frowned. He had long discouraged Natalie from seeking
further information about the vampire community. This was precisely what he
had hoped would not happen.

"You and I both know why tonight was not a good night for her to decide to
come to the Raven. Too bad *she* did not," she commented.

"What did you do with her?"

"Nothing. I pulled her into the office and explained a few facts. Facts that
you should have told her already."

"Facts that are dangerous for her to know," Nick said emphatically.

"Nicholas, how long has she known of our existence? Two years? Three? She is
not likely to stay away from the club simply because you say so. She does
not
fear us."

"She should."

"Well, she doesn't. You cannot continue this half-hearted method of
protecting her. She already knows enough to condemn her in the eyes of the
Enforcers. To tell her enough to protect her from the rest of our kind is
merely being prudent."

"So you took it upon yourself to endanger her?"

"Nicholas," she sighed. "Your friend is a big girl. She might have
discovered
your secret by accident but she has chosen to further her own knowledge."
She
smiled at Nick's quick glance and angry frown. That must have hit a nerve.
"If you are her friend, you owe it to her."

"I won't put a death sentence on her head," he declared. "And I resent your
interference."

"What interference?" Janette sighed. "All I told her was something you
should
have told her long ago. If you are going to befriend mortal women and not
eat
a proper diet, you ought to tell them why you are going to pull disappearing
acts."

"She told you?" he asked, dismayed.

"Yes, she did. Nicholas, she is concerned for your well-being. I am as well.
It is quite obvious to me that she is attracted to you, and you care for
her.
What I don't understand is why you deny it."

"It's too dangerous," Nick said emphatically.

"It need not be," she sighed. "But that is a topic for another day. I did
not
intend to come here to lecture you, but once again I find myself in that
very
awkward position." She stood and cautiously moved to the couch, sitting
along
side him. "You have needs, Nicholas. The longer that you neglect them, the
more they will control you. What we did the other day helped but it was not
enough. You need me."

"What you are suggesting is a betrayal, Janette. I won't do it." His voice
was firm.

She stood, giving him a long gaze. "It is an open offer, mon chere. Someday,
you will. I can wait." Without giving him a chance to respond, she rose and
was through the skylight.

***
After a shower and shave, Nick was ready to face his actions. He was
chagrined to admit it, but Janette was right. He'd hidden things from
Natalie
that he had not needed to.

Some things about his vampiric life were unpleasant to contemplate. One of
tho
se things was how he could unconsciously react to the merest scent of blood.
With years of working among mortals, especially mortal women, he had become
adept in hiding sudden changes. Most of the time, no one noticed. Natalie
was
different. She always had been. She noticed and confronted him for his
actions.

Dialing the familiar number, he waited to hear her voice. "Nat?" he began.

"So... feeling better?" she questioned.

"A bit, yes."

"I assume that Janette came over?"

"Umm hmmm, she did, and she put me in my place."

"Oh?"

"I apologize for running off like that," he continued.

"Well, if I'd known how you'd react, I'd have kept my distance," she sighed
heavily before continuing in a more reproachful tone. "Nick, we've known
each
other for three years. How could you not tell me?"

"Nat, I'm sorry. Truly I am," he replied. "That's just something that a
gentleman doesn't speak about. Especially to a lady."

"Ah, medieval chivalry lives on," she sighed.

"I am what I am, Nat," he said with a resigned sigh.

"What does that mean?" she asked, her annoyance barely concealed. Much as
she
enjoyed their friendship, there were times that his old-fashioned attitudes
were a bit hard to take.

"Some habits are ingrained and the way I behave around women is something I
learned long ago. You might be able to teach an old dog some new tricks..."

"I get the picture, Nick," she said dryly. "I forgive you. This time."

"So what did you come to the precinct to tell me?" he asked, hoping that
this
form of apology would be enough and she wouldn't push him further.

"Oh, I just had the final report on the Mollar case."

"Anything interesting?" his voice lightened. Anything to keep the
conversation purely professional.

"Nothing surprising. As we thought, it was self inflicted," she commented.
"So what is this I hear about you going undercover?"

"Word travels fast," he laughed. "I just got that assignment this evening."

"So, it's true, then."

"Yes, I'm going to an open casting call on Monday."

"If they only knew that your entire *life* is an act," she mused.

"I'll try to act natural," he laughed. "I'm supposed to be an extra."

"Well, break a leg or something."

"Thanks.  Nat, I'll try to be more honest with you. I promise."

"I won't hold my breath. Like you said..." Natalie's voice trailed off. At
least she had him talking again.

**to be continued**

Comments to Karen (KaAG@aol.com)

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Subject: [NNFic] Art Imitating Life 11/27
Date: Mon, 4 Feb 2002 19:03:42 EST
From: KaAG@aol.com
To: fkfic-l@lists.psu.edu
CC: NNFic@yahoogroups.com

disclaimers in part 01

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Name?" a bored looking woman tapped her pen against the battered clipboard
as she perused the line of men waiting entrance to the studio.

"Nick Hubbard," Nick replied with an equally bored tone. His goal was to fit
in, and judging from the length of the line, fatigue would be the natural
response, no matter how eager one was.

"Hmm, yeah, your agent called," she checked his name off the list. "Take one
of those forms and fill it out. When you're done, take it to the next
table."

Nick took a clipboard from the stack. The forms were fairly standard
demographic information and a brief release form. He glanced around the
room,
which was filling up with men of all ages, races, sizes. All seduced by the
opportunity to be seen on screen, to be made immortal on film.

****
"OK, show us what you've got," Nick stood in the barren stage, surrounded by
hot lights. Natalie's words were forgotten as he skimmed the page he'd just
been handed. Taking a breath to clear his mind, he put himself in the mind
of
the character. A 13th century knight, describing his experiences in the
Crusades. It was too real, too close to his own life. It wasn't acting. It
was life.

Finishing the reading, Nick put the paper on the table and turned, as if to
leave.

"Wait a minute," the director tipped back his cap. "I know you have an
agent,
but there isn't anything of note on your resume. You sure yo