Part One
 

There is no more thirst for blood, and no more drive to kill.  Nick Knight has
changed - he is mortal.  After seeing what he did to Natalie with his final
vampire kiss, an unexpected transformation occurred.  Now, if LaCroix can save
Natalie and if Nick can be mortal, would he still want to die?  Destiny has
stepped in.  Nick can have mortality, but at the cost of Natalie's memory of
him and his soul.  Can her loss of memory change their preordained love?  Some
things never change as Nick and the others are about to discover in this
unforeseen turn of fate.

The goal of this story was to fill in a gap.  Almost five years has passed
since the making of "Last Knight," the final episode.  If this series were to
return with the original actors, then some means to explain their maturity
would be necessary.  With Nick's conversion to mortality and his time spent
living in the mortal world, the series could resume in 2001 with Nat still
searching for a cure for the vampire that she loves.  For those of you who
like to know, this is a NICK and NAT story, along with some very key
appearances from LaCroix, Vachon, Reese, and Urs. It is time for Nick to
resume his quest for mortality.  We have come full circle.

This story is dedicated to love, and to the belief that destiny has chosen
someone for each of us.  We may not understand the paths that fate might take
us, but as long as we do not give up hope - love will find a way.  As always,
this is for my husband Neil, who is my special love, and for everyone who has
either found or will one day find that exceptional someone who is meant to be
forever a part of them.

A heartfelt thanks to my beta reader, Rosemary, who despite an unrelentless
schedule, took on the additional burden of proof-reading this story.  She has
saved me from many embarrassing mistakes, and has made this much more
enjoyable for all of you to read.  In a perfect world, all beta readers would
receive awards for their kind work.

Archive Permission:  Permission to archive to Mel's FKFanfic Archive, the FK
FTP site, and to the CotK site is granted.  All others must ask permission.

This story is copyrighted by me.  Please send all comments to,
[email protected].

The loft's window blinds were fully opened, allowing every last ray of the
sunset to filter into his home and lay unshielded against the walls and floor.
To him each sunrise and every sunset had been a show that rivaled any
fireworks display.  However, the sun had already dropped down over the
horizon, and only the mix of darkening colors was left in its path.
Methodically, he moved towards his old remote and aimed it at the windows.  It
was just as he had thought, the batteries had long since expired.  Reaching
across the table that stood against his sofa, he pulled a recently purchased
package of batteries from a small plastic bag and began to unwrap them.  After
inserting the fresh batteries, he made another attempt to have the remote
close the blinds.  The new supply of energy worked well, and the blinds came
to an abrupt stop as they touched the windowsill.  The next step would be to
check the refrigerator one more time for provisions.  Even though he had spent
most of the prior day clearing it of all mortal food and restocking it with
several bottles of fresh blood, he needed the list of things to check as a
distraction.  Opening the refrigerator slowly, he wished that somehow he would
not have to face the sea of green bottles that seemed to be his ever-present
companions.  As he held open the refrigerator's door, he took note that the
light had burned out.  However, there was no need to replace it, in his world
seeing in the dark posed no obstacles.  And what would it matter anyway, one
bottle of steer blood or another?  What difference would it really make?

Crossing the room, he again picked up the remote and pressed the button to
allow the blinds to open fully.  It was dark now, and there was not much time
left.  For the first time in five years, he felt calm.  Yes, it was calmness
that he felt now, what a strange sensation at a time like this.  Of all the
possible emotions, he would never have guessed that it would be tranquility
that would possess his feelings.  How could he feel so composed at a time like
this?  No, this was not calm, this was resignation.  There was no way out, and
so he had prepared himself well for the unwelcome event that was soon to
occur.  The time had come to surrender, just as he had always known it would.
It was not a weakness that permitted his passivity, but his strength that
caused him to harden himself for what lay in store.

The loft apartment was becoming increasingly dark.  He found the matches and
began to light several of the half-burned down candles.  Out of the side of
his eye, a light that he had neglected to turn off caught his attention and he
moved towards it.  While reaching in to flip down the switch, he caught a
glimpse of his reflection.  The image of himself motivated him to move closer
to the glass and examine what he had become.  Stepping close to the mirror, he
looked hard at the figure that was cast back at him.  The silvery glass gave
forth an image of an older man.  Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and a
shallow wrinkle streaked across his forehead.  His hair was not as vibrant
with color and even his body seemed to be shaped differently then he had
remembered.  Had all this happened in five short years?  Or was it more than
just the weight of mortal time that had given rise to such changes?  Bending
closer towards the mirror, he unconsciously began to run his fingers over the
now unfamiliar features.  Aging did not sadden him; In fact, he liked the look
of trials and tribulations that stared back at him from the glass.  After all,
if anyone had earned the look of a hard life, then he had.  A smile crept
across his lips.  The face that looked back was that of his mortal father.
Never before had he realized how much like him he really looked.  The smile
faded quickly as he recalled what would soon transpire, and the distraction of
the mirror swiftly vanished.  Turning towards the bathroom door, he
extinguished the light as he walked out into the main area of the loft.

Gazing across the room, he could almost feel the stereo's radio beckoning him
to listen to the advice that had guided him his entire eternal life.  It could
not be avoided.  The force that had enslaved him centuries ago now longed to
find its comfort through the sound of his eternal father's voice.  He snapped
the radio on before finding a comfortable place on the sofa to sit and listen.
The familiar sound of the elder vampire's words flowed soothingly from the
speakers.  On this most extraordinary night, his master spoke as if he were at
peace with the world.  Nicholas's heart quickened at the distant radio wave's
reverberations, which emanated from the man that each night poured his
philosophies onto the city of Toronto.  Lightly, he closed his eyes, and let
the utterances of this being vibrate through his memories.  This ancient voice
was more a part of him then the sound of his own voice.  As much as this man's
comments disturbed him, they also satisfied and quieted him.  Within the hour,
the sound that now filled his loft would fill his head with renewed visions of
immortality.  It was time to come home, and he was ready.  The promise of five
years had not been betrayed.  LaCroix had not in any way tried to deceive him,
and now it was his turn to display his integrity.  Although it was time to
relinquish all that had been bestowed upon him; he did not regret one past
moment.  In his very long lifetime, he had always held close to the fact that
he would try to do the proper thing.  And the correct act now was to accept
the consequences of his actions without opposition, to bravely face the future
like the knight he had started out to be in a far away time.

As he sat engrossed in past dreams, his attention was suddenly drawn back
towards the radio as his father's tone changed.  Each word became more
enunciated and Nick was cognizant that these new remarks were directed at him.
There was no point in resisting, and he sat back and rested his heavy head
against the coolness of the leather sofa.

"And now let us turn our attentions to a seldom discussed topic around here.
Let us contemplate the virtue of honor.  How is it that a man is considered
honorable?  What determines whether a person is considered worthy of respect,
or to be held in high regard?  Although reputable thoughts are most desired,
it is the actions of an individual that proclaim him to be one of integrity.
And what better way to demonstrate one's character than through commitment.
Commitment?  Why commitment?  The answer is so crystal clear that I am certain
that it does not escape you listeners.  A commitment is giving one's word.  A
personal pledge that one will honor an agreement that he has made.  What is
more precious to a man than his word?  What gives more honor to the character
of a man then the keeping of that word?  Nothing!  A man's word is everything.
Without it, he has no dignity, no respect, and most of all, no honor.  Live up
to your part of the bargain, and never doubt the knight that you profess
yourself to be.  Your time to prove yourself worthy approaches.  Do not
disappoint me!"

Sitting up, Nicholas took in a deep breath to brace himself.  All that LaCroix
had mentioned was correct.  They had struck a bargain, and it was time to
reimburse the one he was indebted to.  LaCroix had held to his part of the
deal and now it was payment time.  Did his father think that he would try to
escape restitution and run away?  Or was he merely reminding his son of the
type of person that he was, cautioning him to recall his innate virtues?  Yes,
it was only a warning to accept with dignity that which he had every intention
of fulfilling already.  He had given his word, and his master was well aware
that his son would never withdraw from his responsibility.  This was his duty,
and he would not ever forget it.

Rising from the sofa, he slowly approached the darkened glass of his window.
Tonight he did not wish to look down at all the bustle of life that paraded
outside his building each evening.  Tonight he only wanted to spend his last
few moments staring out into the vast heavens.  Could it be that his eight
hundred years had not diminished in the least his love of the stars?  There
was always beauty to rediscover in the world, and it really did not take much
to find it.  Life was beautiful, and he had more than his share.  Each life
was important, and he never had known that more than until this moment.  If
only he had been more careful of Natalie's life when she had put all her faith
in him.  Her life was so precious that the vampire had desired all of her, not
wishing to take just a little at a time.  It was his actions of relying solely
on emotion that had brought them all to this point in time.  Until, Natalie's
near death each night had been as the night before.  Gliding through the
centuries fueled by the lifeblood of others, he had forgotten the richness of
mortality.  He had failed to remember the feelings of thoughts that were not
provided for him by another's blood.  Not even the most exotic of another's
experience rivaled his own sensations that he could now appreciate first hand.
What he felt now was life, and to be able to participate in all it had to
offer was indescribable.  An ancient feeling began to stir within him as the
sounds of LaCroix's bow floating across the strings of his pear shaped fiddle
emptied into a loft that was already filled with memories.  As his resolve
hardened his heart, his vision began to blur and he again contemplated his
future.  Each of his master's notes called to him, strained at his soul.  A
force that even defied his mortal body's resistance to change.  This was the
worst pain of all, knowing the hold by which LaCroix dominated him, a force
that tore through all barriers.  There would never be any escape; his five
years as a mortal had taught him that.  As long as he lived and whatever form
his body would take, he would forever be the possession of this two
thousand-year-old vampire.  He would always be the slave to the entity that
now trifled with his soul as effortlessly as he played the antique instrument.

Pulled by memories, he turned towards the source of the sounds that now
beckoned him, and a defeated smile crossed his lips.  Again it was peace that
now overcame him, and he wondered why there did not come any desire to run.
The music emanating from the rebec lay heavy in the air, and his eyes shifted
towards the carpet by the fireplace.  It had been five years ago today that he
had struck this deal for him to return to the fold, an agreement that he
willingly sought.  Tonight LaCroix would come to seal the pact that had
allowed him to sell his soul for yet the second time.

A cold evening spring breeze forced its way through a small crack in the
window, and he took in the scent with its promise of new life, into his lungs.
The chill from it permeated his body as the deep breath expanded his chest.
How good it felt to feel the breath of life inside him, how miraculous even
the mortal act of respiration was.  It was unusually cold for this time of
year, but the last stings of winter's bitter winds were something he desired
to hold onto tenaciously.  Soon, there would be no more sensation of cold or
of heat; soon there would be only the timeless emptiness of immortality.

His gaze stood riveted to the place on the floor where he had watched her fall
and look so lifeless, no movement and so cold.  There had been so little of
her life that he had left, hardly a breath left in her mouth.  He raked the
fingers of one hand through his hair trying to sooth his head from the echoing
sounds of eternity laughing at his futile actions.  With the melody of his
soon to be master's distant forgotten tune still swirling and lurking in his
brain, he brought back the images of the night five years ago that had set the
stage for the play that must now end.

                             ***Flashback-1996***

Natalie briefly closed her eyes and smiled as she filled her lungs with the
fragrant spring air.  Looking up at the paling sky, she watched the mix of
sunset's colors as the night approached.  As the wall of darkness fell, the
evening's darkness made the ivory moon seem to shine brighter.  Being able to
partake of this rare indulgence to just relax and enjoy the world around her
was a long overdue luxury that she consciously promised herself to do more
often.  The stripped branches on the trees were beginning to form tiny buds,
and the first of the perennial bushes had already begun to display their
blossoming splendor.  The wind felt cooler now as the sun had left the sky,
and she pulled her lightweight coat tighter together as she settled back
against the park bench.  Children's voices and laughter pierced the air as
their Mother's gathered them together to prepare them for the trip back to
their homes.  She closed her eyes again, listening to the youthful protests to
stay in the play area for just a few moments longer.  A squeaky wheel from a
stroller passed by, and the contented sounds of an infant cooing, caused her
eyes to reopen.  With the baby carriage already past, she strained her neck to
try and capture a quick glance of the tiny life, but was only able to see the
movement of a lightweight colorful blanket.  The darkness deepened around her,
and a spring breeze carried the scent of lilacs past her.  Scanning the park,
she located the source of the flowers.  Their aroma so enticing she knew that
she could not resist moving closer to the bushes that seemed to overflow with
the delicate purple blossoms.  As she stood up and pulled the strap of her
purse over her shoulder, she realized how quiet everything had become and how
alone she was.  All the playful sounds of the children were gone, and only the
movement of a rusty swing could be heard as a gentle wind pushed at it.  The
time had come for her to leave as well; it was almost time to begin the short
walk to work for the graveyard shift.  After a quick internal debate about
whether she wanted to walk directly to work or walk a few extra meters to fill
her senses with the magical scent of spring, and she found herself headed for
the bushes.  As she moved closer to the flowers, they seemed to fill her with
their comforting sweetness.  She was sure they could intoxicate her.  A dreamy
smile spread across her lips.  If only she could capture the feeling of this
peaceful park and its fragrances for all of time.  As she drew near the
bushes, she recognized how much taller they were than her, and that most of
the flowers hung on the top branches.  Not being discouraged, she reached up
and pulled from where the blossoms gathered so she could bring the scent
closer to her.  With both hands now holding the branch tightly near her face,
she sniffed at the delicious scent.  Then suddenly she startled as sounds of
twisting and crackling twigs seemed to come from deep within the shrubbery,
and she began to release the flowers just as a strong arm reached through from
the other side and held tightly to her wrist.  She froze as the beautiful bush
parted, and revealed a pair of eyes gleaming like live coals.  Another strong
arm then broke through the bush and grabbed her free arm, and she felt herself
freeze from fright as she was drawn deep into the bushes.  As the dense
foliage surrounded her, she felt helpless to escape.  All she could see were
hungry burning eyes, all she could feel was the beast's hand against her neck
as it slowly pushed back her hair then sunk it's long ravenous fangs into her
neck.

Natalie awoke with a sudden start and a hoarse scream, and then worked at
catching her breath.  Her heart pounded so hard with fear that she felt it
might push its way through her chest.  Eyes wide with fright searched the
interior of her bedroom, it had only been a bad dream; a nightmare.  Slowly,
she released the grip she held on her sheets that had her knuckles turning
white.  Trying to shed the leftover dream, she shook her head and began to
reacquaint herself with her old and familiar surroundings.  Now, as her mind
grasped the notion that she was indeed awake and safe, her breathing finally
adjusted to a longer deeper rhythm.  As the last of her shallow breaths
subsided, and her personal reassurances took hold, she began to ask herself
questions about the terrifying images that her subconscious had just played
out.  What a strange dream!  What could possibly possess her to dream of such
horrors?  It had all started out so nicely, but then recalling the last part
of her dream; she reached up and touched her neck.  Feeling confusion and pain
as her fingers came in contact with the place the beast had bitten her in the
dream; she winced from the soreness.  Carefully, she began to run her hand
over the affected area until the smoothness of her skin was met by two nice
sized bumps that protruded almost five centimeters below her left ear.
Stopped by the sensation of the matching swellings, she continued to examine
them, running the tips of her fingers back and forth over their surface.
Concern over the two bumps drove her to throw her feet towards the edge of the
bed as she tried to stand.  Her first attempt had her sitting back on the bed
with her head spinning.  Now, she was frightened.  Horrible thoughts about
what might be wrong with her raced through her head.  After a moment her head
cleared, and she again could feel the tight soreness coming from her neck.
She didn't know what caused this pain, but it was obvious now why she had
dreamed that she had been bitten on the neck.  The dream was only a reflection
of the injury or disease she was now experiencing.  Feeling steady again, she
cupped her hand over her sensitive wound, and slowly took the few steps
towards the mirror on the dresser.  With one hand giving her support, she
leaned against the furniture while slowly using the other hand to pull back
her disheveled brown curls so she could see the marks out of the side of her
eyes.  It was difficult to really get a good look, she moved closer to the
mirror and stretched at the skin but that hurt more, and the tender area was
released.  From what she could see, the two marks looked red, they may have
been infected.  What was this on her?  Had she done this to herself somehow?
Touching and probing at the site was only making whatever it was worse, and
she used the hand that was not steadying her to rub at her eyes and forehead.
If only she could remember what she could have done to cause such a wound.
With her eyes closed, her dream of the wild eyed monster came back to her
causing her to shudder and to remind her to not leave her eyes closed for too
long again.  Lingering by the dresser for a moment, her eyes took in the sight
of a crystal vase on the nightstand near her bed, filled with the wilted
branches of several lilac cuttings.  Understanding more now, she smiled at
herself.  Her dream was again making more sense.  The smell from these flowers
had also been incorporated into her nightmare.  But in the dream, the flowers
had been fresh; these were dying almost lifeless.  Looking hard again at the
flowers, she tried to recall how they got there.  There was little water left
in the vase, but the flowers were not wilting from lack of liquid, they were
decaying from age.  How long had they been there, and why couldn't she
remember placing them near her?  She should throw them away now before they
invite more bad dreams, but she couldn't.  As bad as they looked and whatever
nightmares they might have summoned, for some unknown reason she knew the
flowers were important to her.  They represented something, even though what
it was eluded her now.  They were not a danger to her, they were a comfort.
Having them made her feel as if everything would be all right, that she was
safe.  If she could only figure out that dream, it plagued her, it haunted
her.  Again, she was thinking about the dream, why was she still trying to
figure out that dream?  It was only a combination of things that her
subconscious had created, now if only she could convince herself of that fact.
A cool breeze caught her attention and her eyes moved from the vase to the
window where the wind was now playfully pushing the lightweight drapes.
Feeling spring's chilled air, she shivered and moved to pull down the sash.
It was still daylight outside.  It was too early to be waking up for work, and
she could feel the weight of her lack of sleep.  If she were not so exhausted
right now, she would be calling her physician to discover the cause of those
marks that were beginning to throb.  Stumbling to the window with her last
ounces of strength, she rapidly closed it and pulled the drapes close
together.  Her neck throbbed from her movements as she backed away from the
now darkened opening.  The pain from her neck began to ease up, but she
wondered why the sun had seemed so bright as she unconsciously raised her hand
to rub at the painful spots.  Completely worn out, she backed towards her bed
and sat down.  Through her weakness and discomfort, she strained at her
thoughts in vain to recover any memory.  The dizziness returned, her mind felt
like it was trapped in a fog, and nothing made sense.  As she fought the urge
to slip into unconsciousness, she slid her feet under the covers but did not
lie down.  There had to be an answer to all she was going through.  If only
she could remember the previous day, maybe if she concentrated hard enough it
would come to her.  However, in an instant, all concentration became lost as
the door to her bedroom began to slowly swing into the room.  The sound of it
opening startled her, and she lost her breath to fear, as a young professional
looking man walked in carrying a medical bag.  Her eyes froze on him.  He
looked just as startled as she did, and she imagined that his expression must
have mirrored her own.  The surprise in his face turned into a smile as he
watched her sitting up in the bed, and his voice brimmed with excitement as he
spoke to her.

"Natalie, you're awake!"

In fear and anger, she released her words.

"How did you get in here?  Who are you?  What do you want?"

With great speed, it became apparent to him that his patient was very
disoriented, and he did not continue to approach her.  Staying still by the
door, he tried to speak in the least aggressive voice he could think of.
"Don't you remember me Natalie?  I'm Mark Harmond from the University."  His
tone suddenly became light and jovial.  "You know, the guy you always come to
when you need to borrow the big microscope?"

Nat briefly closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, but then looked
back again at him questioningly.  "Why are you in my bedroom?"

Mark's eyes saddened.  He had practically been living in her apartment for the
past three days, taking care of her cat and her.  Most of his week had been
spent making sure she had taken in enough fluids from a straw to sustain her
until she had recovered from this virus.  Even though it was his best medical
opinion that she should have been hospitalized, he seemed to be the only one
of that mindset, so she remained in his care at home.  Now after all his
concern and diligent work, she made him feel like an intruder.  Choosing each
word carefully now, he tried to not let her hear the disappointment he felt.

"Natalie, Captain Reese had called me here to look after you.  You've been
very sick.  We are still not sure what is wrong.  You either have some
unidentified strain of the flu or you were infected when you were bitten
outside of Detective Knight's apartment building."

With her fear subsiding, she was no longer distracted, the pain to her neck
returned, and she reached up to again touch the strange bumps.  The dream and
her loss of memory began to make her head swim again.  Each word was a
struggle to form as she looked over at Mark who began to move a little closer.
"I've been sick?  I am weak and tired.  How long have I been sick?"

Being as professional as possible he attempted to answer her questions.  "You
had a high fever for over three days.  You have been delirious.  I really
thought that the best place for you was the hospital, but the Captain insisted
that you recover at home and that I remain with you with the help of some in
home nurses.  This whole set up has been against my advice, but the Captain
said the department is paying for everything and that he had conferred with
the hospital doctor that had helped Knight after he was shot."

Panic began to rise as the thought of three days with complete loss of time,
seized her.  Somewhere inside her came the strength to cry out.  "Three days!
That's not possible!  I was just...  I was just at work.  Yes, I was just
about to autopsy..."  Her harsh tone broke, and tears began to slide down her
cheeks.  "Laura.  Laura killed herself.  How could I forget about Laura?"

He longed to go to her and to hold her now, but she still seemed too unaware
of her recent past.  It was time to explain as best he could the time that she
had lost.  He had to move slowly with her now, she was too fragile.
"Natalie," he whispered her name.  "You will remember.  You have been really
out of things because you were sick."

The sadness turned to irritation, and she glared at Mark and released her
frustration on him.  "What else?  Why do you keep mentioning Detective
Knight's name to me?  Why would I be at his building?"

Her question tore at him; somehow, she was accusing him, blaming him.
Swallowing his hurt, he bit at his lip and remained calm, knowing how sick she
had been, how sick she still was.  "Why were you at Knight's building?  I'm
afraid only you can answer that.  No one seems to know for certain.  A few
down at the department figured that you had gone there to tell him about his
partner's death.  Captain Reese had called you at the Morgue, and had asked
you to tell Knight if you saw him.  That night no one was able to locate him,
I guess you tried."

Natalie closed her eyes tightly, if only she could recall any of this.
Everything seemed to hurt now as she repeated Mark's words in her mind.
Knight's partner?  Her eyes shot opened and her voice rang out.  "Schanke!"
Her word was only met by Mark's blank expression, and the shaking of his head.
Suddenly as if she were pulling Mark's thoughts from him, she remembered, and
her hand shot up to loosely cover her opened mouth.  "No, his partner is
Tracy, Tracy Vetter.  She is dead?  I can't remember!  Why can't I remember?"

She heard herself sobbing lightly with her hand still covering her mouth.  Her
own cries sounded foreign to her, as if she were listening to someone else
sob.  Everything felt strange, and she was frightened.  Pulling her knees up
close to her chest, she cried into the sheets with both hands tenaciously
clutching the covers as if to save her from falling.  Falling, that was the
word that best described how she felt.  She felt as if she were spiraling out
of control towards earth from a plane.  Hearing Mark call her name, she looked
up at him through swollen eyes.  Mark lay a box of tissues by her side and
handed her a few, and she smiled at him, surprising herself as well as him.
Suddenly he seemed to be a comfort, and that felt good.  As her tears dried,
he spoke to her.

"Try to calm down Natalie.  You are still recovering from all that your body
has been through."  He moved towards the window as he continued to speak
reassuringly to her.  "A little more rest, and some fresh air, and you'll be
back to the normal Natalie."

Seeing where he was headed she unexpectedly screamed out.  "NO!"  Stunned,
Mark turned to face her and she settled down.  "Please don't.  I don't want
any light.  It's too bright."

Worried, he studied her for a moment as he thought about her overreaction.  It
would not be wise to upset her.  If she did not want the light then he would
honor her request.  They stared at each other for a long moment as if in
competition.  Finally, he broke their silence.  "The light sensitivity.  It
must be a side effect of the fever.  I'm sure it will be gone in a few days."

A cautious smile formed on Natalie's lips as she listened to what he was
saying.  His words made sense, but she was not sure at all that she would ever
feel comfortable in the light again.  She knew the thoughts she was having
were irrational, but this was a feeling from deep within her.  It almost felt
like instinct.  Somehow, she knew that the light was harmful.  It did not make
sense; maybe it was from the fever, but for now the light was to be avoided.
Maybe one day she would understand why, but she knew she could never express
her thoughts to a soul.  They would never understand, maybe she would never as
well.  As she dwelled on the thought of never being in the light again, it was
impossible to not feel the pressure from Mark's stare now and she quickly
changed the subject away from the light issue.

"Mark?"  She gestured towards the dying spray of flowers.  "Where did the
flowers come from?"

He didn't have to look over to where she pointed.  He had been looking at them
for endless hours as she had slept.  Still standing near the bed, he told all
he knew of their presence.  "I thought you had put them there Natalie.  I
didn't want to remove them.  They were here when I first arrived."

A nervous smile fluttered across her mouth then faded as she spoke.  "I dreamt
about them.  It was a horrible dream.  A beast attacked me.  It pulled me into
the bushes, and it bit me.  It seemed so real."  There had been no plan to
disclose this dream to anyone, but it all seemed to pour out of her.  It
needed to be told, but she found herself starting to shake.  Mark had seen her
quiver too and he tried to redirect her attention.

"It wasn't real, Natalie.  Something did bite you, we know that.  Probably
after you became unconscious outside the detective's building.  We cleaned and
checked the bite; it was harmless unless it is the cause of your infection
now.  It was lucky that Detective Knight found you when he did or whatever
took a bite at you might have come back and done more damage."

That name again, Knight.  There was something so familiar about it, actually
more than familiar.  It touched her deep inside; it made things make sense.
But that couldn't be, especially now.  Nothing made sense now.  She looked up
into Mark's hopeful and worried eyes.  "Where is Detective Knight?  Has he
been here too?"

Feeling more confident now, Mark slid closer to the bed and sat down next to
Nat as he spoke.  "I haven't seen him."  Not wishing to upset her by the
detective's lack of concern, he offered what he thought was a valid reason for
the detective not being around.  "Hey, I'm sure he is been inundated with the
guys from Internal Affairs.  With his partner's death and him being right
there...  Well, you know that they can be pretty rough.  But I'll tell him you
asked about him."

A longing tugged at her heart when she heard that the detective had not been
by to see her.  There was no way to explain the feeling to herself.  She could
hardly remember this person that she had worked with and that had now saved
her.  All that was inside her was emptiness, a hollow space large enough for
her to crawl into if she could.  Loneliness was tearing away at her insides.
Mark was right there, but she knew he could never fill the void that she had
somehow come to acquire in the past few days.  Feeling helpless and tired, she
gave Mark a quick smile.  "Thank you Mark, and thank the detective for me.  I
wish I could remember everything, but all that is filling my mind is
nothingness.  Can you understand that?  Everything seems to be blocked by a
huge wall inside my brain.  It's frightening."

Responding to her troubled words, Mark pulled her into his arms.  "Things will
come back to you slowly.  You just need to give yourself some time."

Nat tried to relax in his arms, but felt stiff.  "Thanks Mark.  I feel so
stupid.  I feel helpless and so scared."

As he held her tighter, tears began to fill her eyes then spill over onto his
shoulder.  He didn't feel her stiffness, only how wonderful it was to finally
have her so close to him.  Her body began to feel heavy in is arms.  It would
not be long until sleep would overtake her again.  Softly he whispered in her
ear as he lovingly pet her long hair.  "You will be fine Natalie.  I can stay
with you for as long as you want.  Everything is all right.  Soon things will
be as they were before.  Rest now.  Try to rest now."

Her soft grieving sobs began to fade as her words turned into a hushed
unintelligible murmur and she drifted to sleep.  Gently he lowered her head
onto the pillow then pulled the light covers over her.  He watched as her
breathing fell into a deep and regular rhythm, he watched and he smiled.  Here
by his side slept the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.  Even her
tears were as precious as diamonds.  They still glistened and sparkled against
the color of her flesh on her cheeks.  With love, he reached over and lightly,
so as not to wake her, rubbed a finger across her face to remove the few
lingering teardrops.  Sitting silently beside her, he decided that he would
not go home today, and leave her with one of the nurses.  If she were to awake
again with her reoccurring nightmare of the beast, then she would find him
there to hold her securely.  Protecting her from the demons of her
subconscious was the least he could do.  The past few days he had been little
more than a nurse's aide, while he patiently had waited for her to recover.
He had been acting as a companion to her because he could do little more.  His
degree in medicine and his Ph.D. in Cytogenetics could offer no explanation as
to why this delicate woman struggled with this mystery illness.  Something was
obviously wrong, yet by all tests and examinations she appeared to be normal.
Leaning over, he picked up her hand that had escaped the covers of the bed.
Finding the warm smooth spot on her wrist, he counted each beat of her heart
through the thin skin.  It beat slow and strong, just as it should and just as
it had been since he had begun to take care of her.  Daringly, he allowed his
hand to slide down towards her limp fingers, and his own fingers naturally
intertwined, then tightened around hers.  His eyes followed the actions of his
hand, and he found it impossible to let go of the soft warm skin, lost in the
immersion.  In all the years that they had known each other professionally, he
had adored her from afar.  Always wishing that one-day, she would find him
more interesting then his expensive microscope.  A short laugh escaped him as
he realized that he was jealous of a mechanical tool.  So many hours had been
spent in his lab with her gazing into the scope while he gazed at her.  As he
reminisced, she stirred in her sleep.  Still he refused to relinquish her
hand; instead, his gaze fell to her face.  With her eyes moving rapidly under
her eyelids, he knew she was again dreaming.  A smile flashed briefly across
her sleeping features.  Maybe this time she would dream of him, of them.
However, he knew better than to believe in miracles.  In all her dreams, she
would start out smiling, but that would always be followed by her screaming
out in her sleep until someone would awaken her.  And each time she would
speak of a beast, a vision that she could not erase.  The dream had to mean
something, and at his first chance, he would speak with the head of the
department of psychology at the University.  As her hand shook in his, he felt
her pulse begin to rise as she began her disturbing dream.  Maybe this was her
personal battle.  Some unresolved conflict that she kept trying to free
herself of, some unfinished business.  His hand squeezed tightly around hers.
If only he could help her.  How he wished she would let him into her life.

Startling suddenly to the harsh deep sound of a man clearing his throat behind
him, he turned his attention back across the room towards the doorway.  Mark
wondered how long Captain Reese had been standing there while he was too
enthralled with his patient.

"Ahem...Dr. Harmond."

Remembering that he had Natalie's hand in his and how it must look, he
immediately released her and moved to his feet.  Feeling very awkward and
embarrassed, he grappled for the words to explain himself.  "Captain Reese.  I
was taking Nat...  Dr. Lambert's pulse."

Reese smiled and nodded.  "Relax doctor.  I didn't see anything.  You have
been doing a wonderful job at caring for her.  The department owes you a
tremendous debt of gratitude for all the time you have been putting in.  I
just came by to see if there has been any improvement."

With Reese's words came a sigh of relief, and Mark enthusiastically reported
to the Captain.  "There has been Captain, and you just missed it.  She was
awake!  Much more awake than she has been in the past few days.  But she still
does not remember many things, and it frightens her.  She even told me more
about her nightmare."

"Damn!  She's still having that bad dream!  How much longer will that keep
happening?"

Turning his head towards her, Mark gazed at the dreaming vision before him,
knowing that it would not be long before the terrifying part of the dream
would take hold of her.  As he prepared to rouse her from her relentless
nightmare, he watched her agitated sleep and directed his words towards Reese.
"I wish I had that answer for you.  I wish I had that answer for all of us.  I
plan on consulting with a top doctor in the field as soon as I feel she is
more stable."  Mark moved to wake her as the last of his words fell from his
lips, to save her once again from her dreams.  He was sure that he could feel
the battle that she now waged, inside of him, as well.  There she lay helpless
before him, fighting off faceless demons that only she saw.  Quickly he sat at
the edge of the bed and gently shook her and called out her name.  His actions
caused her to settle down, and for the eye movement to cease.  With her
breathing again regulated, Mark silently turned to face Reese.

"She is improving.  Just twelve hours ago, it would have taken two people to
hold her down and twenty minutes to settle her."

Reese rubbed his forehead as he slowly shook his head.  "Whatever you say
doctor.  Well, I just stopped by to see if there was anything I could do and I
passed the day nurse on the way in.  So, why don't you go home and get some
rest?  I really do appreciate all you have done here."

"Thank you Captain, but I'll be staying the day.  She's finally waking up from
wherever it is that she's been trapped, and I want to be here for her.  You
can tell the nurse to come in, but I will be here if there is any change in
her condition."  Turning to leave with thoughts of speaking with the nurse,
Reese suddenly stopped in his tracks then turned back to face Mark.  "Oh Dr.
Harmond, I almost forget, I have a very anxious detective that keeps asking
about Doctor Lambert's condition.  He has been overwhelmed by what seems to be
no less than a team of inquisition experts over the Commissioner's daughter's
death.  He has not left the Precinct since the night this all happened.  What
should I tell him?"

"Tell him that she is going to be fine, and that even though she has no memory
of what happened to her, she wishes to thank him for all he has done."

"Thanks Doctor, I'll tell him.  I only hope he listens to me.  He seems to be
in a different world, even more than he usually is."  Reese grinned at the
notion that it was possible for his detective to be even more lost to his own
thoughts.  He shook his head in amazement, then made eye contact again with
Mark.  "Okay then Doctor, I leave her in your hands and I'll send in the nurse
on my way out.  And try and get some rest too, you'll need it if you want to
help her through this."

"I know Captain, and I will."  He smiled.  "Thanks for coming by, and
Captain...thanks for letting me be the one to take care of her."

Reese smiled back.  "Glad you could help us out."

Without a final look at the most professional Coroner, that he had ever been
privileged to work with, Captain Reese stepped through the bedroom door while
making plans to stop and check up on his prize detective before returning home
to his waiting family.

                                   --------

Lonely and vacant eyes stared out the barred windows of the precinct's
conference room.  As he stood near the opening, the first rays of the early
morning sun blanketed him.  Standing in this warm glow should have been the
ultimate joy, the blessing to end all blessings.  It should have been, but as
he stood there, he hardly even noticed it.

He had been granted an unexpected gift of light when he had nearly destroyed
the only woman who had understood and accepted all that he was.  Everything
that he had ever dreamed possible had now come true, he was mortal.  No longer
need he fear the warm rays of the sun, no longer did the barely containable
beast demand blood, and no longer must he accept that love and a family were
beyond his reach.  All of humanities physical and spiritual essence now
coursed throughout him, but he felt lost.  There he stood in the light after
nearly eight centuries of a self imposed darkness prison, yet no rush of
joyful emotions emerged.  Both day and night brought no pleasure now, he was a
captive to them both.  What benefit was this miraculous cure, without his love
to share it with him?  For decades, he had searched to realize this moment,
and now he only felt empty.  Without Natalie to partake in his transformation,
everything that he had once valued was now insignificant.

Sighing heavily, he turned from the window and moved towards the long
rectangular table that took up most of the space in the small room.  The
Shooting Review Board team would be back from their coffee break soon.  He
stared down at his own untouched Styrofoam cup filled with the dark brown
liquid.  Even with his lust for blood gone, he still could not imagine
drinking this brew.  He had seen the way others had consumed endless amounts,
and there was no reason to start any new addictions.  Anyway, the cup's
contents had grown cold hours ago.  Hopefully, he would remember to ask for
some tea the next time anyone asked.  With food being so new to him, tea was
the only tolerable drink, which his stomach could handle.  The sunlight's
bleaching rays filled the room, making him feel the heat and a little
uncomfortable.  He removed his sports coat that he had brought with him nearly
three days ago, and unconsciously hung it around the back of one of the wooden
chairs.  His chair actually, the same simple wooden chair that he occupied on
and off for over seventy-two hours.  He had not been back to the loft where
Nat had almost died since that night.  The night he had foolishly acted on his
emotions, the night that would haunt him eternally.

Nick slowly walked the length of the table sliding one hand along its slick
worn surface as he again crossed the room.  A bitter yet accepting smile
momentarily crossed his lips.  LaCroix had been correct, the more things
change the more they do remain the same.  In a few short days, his most recent
incarnation of a homicide detective, and all his mortal relationships, had
undergone drastic change.  Everyone he had come to know and love were no
longer here or no longer the same, yet in his heart and soul he remained
unchanged.  After tragically loosing his last partner Schanke, he was certain
that he would never allow another partner to touch him that deeply again.
Somehow, through her innocence and honesty, Tracy had won a place in his
heart.  And now, in less than a year, he mourned the loss of yet another
co-worker, another friend.  Her last words to him still echoed in his head,
"You could have trusted me."  Her words had pierced his heart with the same
pain of a wooden stake for he knew that she was right.  He could have trusted
her.  But lying, hiding, and covering up what he was, was as much a part of
him as was the vampire itself.  It was his nature to doubt the trust of
mortals and their motives.  It was his duty to safeguard his community's
secrets as much as it was his instinct to seek out blood.  It had been easy to
convince himself that it was only for her own protection that she be denied
knowledge of yet another of their own kind.  That she had known of Vachon,
Screed, and the Inca, was more than enough for any mortal to assimilate.  For
her to be aware that her partner, to which she daily entrusted her life to,
was also a blood-sucking creature of the night, was one less fact for her to
worry about.  Yes, he could have trusted her, but he did not regret not
telling Tracy that he was a vampire.  It would have only made her more aware
of a dark existence, that was only a danger to her.  Before she had died, the
vampires that she had known, had all parted leaving her only with their
memories.  The only thing that he could have done to save her would have been
to make her into a vampire at the hospital while she still had some life left
in her.  At the time he was waiting by her bedside as she slipped away, he had
wanted to save her in the only way he could.  The sorrow in his heart had
distorted all rational thought.  All he could feel was the agony of losing
another partner, and it had devastated him.  It was as if the combined pain of
watching her pass away and the still piercing agony of Schanke's tragic death
had taken over his unusual strong willpower.  Had it not been for Natalie's
timely intervention, Tracy would now be a member of a very exclusive night
crowd.  Thankfully, Natalie had been more calm and far-sighted, and had
interceded to prevent Tracy's transformation.  As horrible as it sounded,
Tracy was better off now- dead and at peace.  Looking back, and recalling that
fateful confrontation along side Tracy's deathbed, visions of Nat's hurt and
angry eyes bore into his soul.  Her pained words haunted him, as he could not
answer her simple question to him.

"Why is it so easy to consider bringing her across, and so impossible to
consider bringing me?"

Not being able to understand why himself, he had walked away.  Leaving her
close to tears with a heart that was breaking, as he silently removed himself
from not only his dying partner but from the most loving and faithful mortal
he had ever known.  Now, with clearer thoughts, he knew why it seemed easier
to bring Tracy across.  At the time that he was prepared to make Tracy his
eternal child, she was already mostly dead.  He had known that he was her only
chance, but Natalie on the other hand was full of life, she had other options.
It was also easier to bring Tracy across because he did not love her.  Past
experience had made him painfully aware of the impact his emotions had on
successfully making another of their own kind.  However, most of all, he could
not stand the thought of bearing the weight of another mortal death on his
shoulders.  If his partner had become a child of the night, and then he could
have rationalized that he had done more, so much more, then was humanly
possible to save her.  If changing her into a vampire could be considered
saving her, condemning her would be the better word.  Condemning her to an
existence of constant struggles to satiate an unending bloodlust.  His
reaction to bite her had been without forethought, an overreaction to both
pain and guilt.  It was this same weakness that had allowed him to only hours
later, be unable to resist Natalie in a doomed attempt to join her in
mortality.

The torturing memory of leaving Natalie on her bed knowing that all feelings
for him had been eliminated, hurt now more than anything he had ever
experienced.  Overwhelmed by her lost love for him, he pulled out the closest
chair and collapsed onto it.  Folding his arms before him on the table, he
lowered his heavy head and closed his eyes.  Ancient memories of his words to
LaCroix regarding his sister stormed through his brain.  As if eight hundred
years had been but a second, he remembered the sound of his voice as he had
spoken to his master on that long ago night.

"It is the beauty of her innocence that you love, and that you will kill with
the first taste of her blood.  If you truly love Fleur LaCroix, you won't
destroy that.  You will not."

He tightened his eyes harder inside the protection of his folded arms.  Yes,
the truest form of love was letting go, and when that moment of truth had come
to him, he had let her go.  He had decided to let her die rather than
selfishly cling to the small remnants of her humanity that she would possess
as a vampire.

He felt the warm breath of his sigh, as he released the air that he had taken
into his lungs into the darkness of his temporary sanctuary, which were his
arms.  Again, agony bored into his chest as he remembered her on the floor
dying, dying because of him.  That was when he had made another choice.  When
all had seemed to be lost, he understood what he had to do.  There was only
one thing left for him to do, one final request from his closest friend.
There was an alternative, a way out that shown as clear as the morning light.
Suddenly, almost miraculously, the tragic choice to bite Natalie, strengthened
rather than diminished his faith.  Consumed in the experience of the
overpowering spirituality, he found a comfort in his newly acquired faith.
There were no more doubts.  It was as Natalie had said.  All that was left was
faith and love, and all he wanted was to be with her.  However, death was not
to be for either of them.

The conference door squeaked as it opened, and Nick lifted his tired head to
face yet another round of the same endless questions over the events that led
up to Tracy's death.  However, instead of the latest team from Internal
Affairs, his eyes met the concerned expression of his Captain.  Loosening his
tie, he moved into the room to get closer to Nick who was beginning to
straighten himself and to stand.

"No Nick, don't get up.  I just stopped by to see if there was anything I
could do for you.  Damn it's hot in here!  How are you holding up?"

Obediently, Nick sank back down into the chair and leaned back against its
wooden slats never allowing his eyes to stray from his Captain.  He pushed his
tired voice as he addressed Reese.

"Thanks, but I'm fine.  I'm fine."

"You don't look fine Nick!  Do you want this moved to a different room?  It
must be over 35 (95) degrees in here with all that sun pouring in those
windows.  I know the sunlight is a problem for you.  I bet those guys
purposely chose this room to make you uncomfortable."

"It's all right Captain.  I can handle it."

Reese reached over the table, pulled a few tissues from a box, and wiped them
across his forehead.  He studied the best detective the department had in a
long time, and a worried wrinkle began to form across his brow.

"Nick, you don't have to stay here day and night like you've been doing.  I
know that losing a partner is the worst thing that can happen to a cop, but I
don't want to lose you too.  You're punishing yourself here Nick, for
something that you had no control over.  Now let me tell these guys to resume
this investigation tomorrow.  You go home Nick, you got to start living
again."

Touched by Reese's words, Nick couldn't help but smile.  Reese really cared
about him; he was trying to protect him.  He was acting almost like a father
to him.  It was a gesture that was appreciated far more than his Captain could
ever know.  As much as he had felt like an outsider, he had built
relationships that were positive.  He had touched others even though he felt
so isolated from humanity.  For the first time in a long time, he felt like he
belonged, it felt good.  Captain Reese wanted him to leave and start to
rebuild his life.  It made sense; it would be the same advice that he would
recommend to any other officer in his situation.  However, the whole picture
of what had happened that same night his partner had been shot and died, was
not at all visible to anyone else.  He had lost far more than a career
partner; he had lost a life partner -Natalie.  She lived, but at the expense
of his soul and heart.  In exchange for her life, he had traded away
everything including a reason to go on.  Bringing his gaze back towards his
Captain's face, he tried to explain.

"The truth is Captain, that I'm not ready to go back, and I don't know that I
ever will be.  Let them finish with their investigation."

Reese shook his head.  "I don't like to see you like this Nick.  They say you
haven't been eating, just some tea.  I've been thinking of calling someone in
to talk with you, someone from the department who understands about these
things."

"I know you are concerned, and I really appreciate it Cap, but it's not
necessary.  I just need a little more time, but you could do something for me.
Would you check on Dr. Lambert's condition?  Don't tell her that I asked.  I
was just wondering how she was doing."

Reese closed his eyes and cursed himself for being so forgetful.  "Damn!  I'm
sorry Nick.  I should have mentioned Dr. Lambert's condition as soon as I
walked in.  I know that you have been worried about her.  I just came from her
place.  She's doing real well Nick.  Dr. Harmond was planning on spending the
day with her.  She was sleeping when I got there, but the doc said that she
had been awake.  He said that the nightmares were still a problem, but that
they were becoming less violent.  Oh yeah, she had told Dr. Harmond to give
you a message.  She told him to thank you for helping her that night she
passed out by your building, but she doesn't seem to remember what happened to
her."

Nick felt a warm rush of relief sweep over his body.  She was getting better
just as LaCroix had said she would.  Everything he had given up to save her
now seemed unimportant.  This had been the best news that he had heard in a
long time, Nat was going to be fine.  Satisfaction brought the next smile to
his mouth.  "Thanks Cap. Thanks."

"Sure Nick, I'll make sure she is well taken care of, but you already knew
that.  Maybe you can even go by yourself.  I know the two of you were close."

With Reese's words, Nick's brief state of relaxation turned to disappointment.
His hurt feelings roared to life inside him as the thought of losing Nat's
love filled him.  He gathered what little strength he had to speak before his
Captain turned to leave.  "We're friends Cap, just friends."  And this time
the disappointment in the tone of his voice allowed both of them to know that
he spoke the truth.

With what seemed to be a true understanding for all that was lost between Nick
and Natalie, the Captain looked sadly and deeply into his detectives far away
expression.  Nick could tell that his Captain wanted to say something
comforting and encouraging to him, but thought that some things were better
off left unsaid.  After a long suffering moment, Reese's gaze moved down to
the floor, and although there were no more words he walked over to Nick and
placed a hand on his shoulder.  A shared knowing glance was all that was
necessary, and Nick smiled with the understanding that this man would stand by
him like a brother.  Automatically, Nick's hand went to reassuringly cover his
Captains.  Then silently Reese withdrew from the room leaving Nicholas to his
own thoughts.

A sigh followed the Captain's departure, but he was still filled with the
outpouring of comradeship that he had just been shown.  While still seated and
feeling exhausted, he pushed the chair away from the table and braced his
elbows on his spread thighs.  Covering his face with his hands, his memory
stepped into a place that seemed long ago and far away even though it had only
been a few days ago.  His body shuddered as he remembered the moment that his
burning gaze was on her, the sensation as he had laid his mouth against her
neck.  Her eyes had reflected what he had felt in his heart, and it was what
her eyes had told him that had convinced him to try one last time to become
mortal.  With the genuineness of their love and faith, he had proceeded to
love her.  To love her with feelings so intense and pure that they were almost
unbearable.  All these feelings they had shared as he and the vampire had made
love to her.  Then a mere second had passed or was it hours or days as he
realized that he had selfishly taken too much of her life.  All he could feel
was the weight of her near lifeless body in his arms, as he lowered her to the
floor where they moments before had stood.  It was then that time stood still
and silence reigned.  Still intoxicated by her life's essence that gushed
through his veins, he stared at where she lay.  And as his dead heart began to
tear into pieces that could never be mended, he had heard the distant sound of
his master's voice.  It wasn't really distant, but every sound and action at
that point in time only drifted away to a place that he wished he could be.
That place was yesterday, and he would gladly have exchanged today for that
time again.  Regret, pain, and helplessness seemed to be crushing him as the
words that LaCroix spoke lashed at him as if in punishment of his rash act.
This time there was no way back, no forgiveness or excuses.  He had taken too
much from Nat, from the world, and from his soul.  His gaze was on her face
when the peace that comes with acceptance hardened his resolve.  This night
that had claimed his love's life would also claim his own.  With the blinding
wetness of his tears, he had turned to his closest friend and asked for the
unfathomable.  After almost eight centuries, he requested that the one, who
brought him into his hated existence, now end it.  There was no doubt in his
mind that he would be with his love in the next world; he only needed his
master to assist him now so that he could be with her.

However, the arrival of death's sweet release was not to come.  As his master
prepared to help him depart, he did not know that the frustration of LaCroix's
words was more than for the death of his son.  The words were only echoing a
far more valuable treasure that had been stolen.  The utterance of, "Damn you
Nicholas!" was followed not by the sensation of a wooden stake being driven
through his heart, but by an even greater outburst of angry words as he
watched the ornate stick become viciously driven into the floor beside him.

"Do you not feel what you have become?  Are you that entranced and devoted to
this death wish that you have become oblivious to what you now are?"

His father had stepped back as the morning sun blazed across himself and his
unconscious love.  As he felt the early light embrace him there was no urgency
to leap into the shadows, his only perception was that of confusion.  Looking
down at his sunlit arms as the warm rays stretched into the room until the
wall stood as a barrier and would not allow it to penetrate further, he
breathed in deeply.  His heart pounded fiercely with fear and excitement at
the same time.  His blood pulsed now, and he marveled at the feel of the wild
and plunging riff of blood in his body.  Exhilaration from the new rush of
sensations had him discovering and appreciating his own body.  With these
first streaks of daylight that immersed him, he almost thought himself to be
invincible.  Then came the most extraordinary awareness of all, he was no
longer tied to LaCroix.  The bond had been severed, and he was free.  Slowly
and cautiously he stood up and approached LaCroix as the memory of who lay
dying re-entered his mortal brain.

"Why didn't you do as I asked?  Why LaCroix?  You have no more power over me."

With his anger subsiding, his master stared at him and confidently smiled.

"Why would I kill a mortal in that manner?  It seems that we have come across
a most interesting turn of events.  I am sure Nicholas that you can appreciate
the complexity of the situation that I now face."

LaCroix's words danced senselessly in his head.  Even though he had become
mortal, that did not change the reality that his destiny still lay with a
woman who was close to death.  It did not change the fact that he only needed
to die now to be with her.  Like a flash, fear gripped him, as he comprehended
the idea that LaCroix could somehow turn a long desired mortality into his own
benefit.

"There is nothing you can do to keep me LaCroix.  I will die.  If not by your
hand, then by my own if I must.  I can guarantee LaCroix that I will not
return to you if you try to bring me across again."

Turning his back, LaCroix paced a few steps towards the door before returning
his look to his son.  An amused smile again crossed his lips and he allowed
the space between them to empty into a hard silence.  Then the chill of his
icy words slashed the still air.

"So even in your mortality you desire death?  Very gallant, but I can assure
you quite unnecessary."  While carefully avoiding the lighted areas of the
room, he moved to the other side of the couch and gestured to Natalie.  "This
mortal who you wish to throw your life away for, can be saved.  That is really
what you want isn't it Nicholas?"

"You know that it is, but she is beyond any hope for a mortal life.  What
pleasure is there in taunting me now?  Even you, LaCroix, cannot raise the
dead."

"True, true.  Were it true that she were dead."

The intent gaze between master and son dissolved with the elder vampire
turning away and moving to where he could kneel comfortably near his son's
dying victim to examine her.  With an uncharacteristically gentle hand, his
father took her chin between his fingers and moved her head to the side.  With
a silence that threatened to crush them, he then listened with his eyes closed
to her heart and breathing.  With one final movement he ran his cold fingers
over the two perfect bite marks and smiled before he again looked up to his
anguished child.  "There is a way Nicholas."

LaCroix's words ripped through him as easily as bullets would shatter glass
and his guilt turned into anger.  "I do not believe you.  You would say
anything to bring me back to your world."

Slowly he arose and moved close enough to place a firm hand on his son's
shoulder.  Now with quiet words filled with the pain of his son's rejection,
he stared unblinking at the face of his ungrateful protege.  "My world?  It is
your world too Nicholas.  Do you believe that what has transpired has changed
anything?  What you were will always be a part of you, and you will always be
a part of me.  A moment ago, you said that I was your closest friend.  Why
would I lie to you now?"

"If you have the power to save her, then why have I never known of this?"

Releasing the grasp on his shoulder, he allowed his arm to fall as he again
turned to view the last remaining moments of this mortal who had the power to
take his son from him.  "Saving mortals?  Now why would I ever consider such a
thing?"  Reaching down he picked up her hand then let it slide from his before
turning back to Nicholas.  "She is in-between our world and her own.  There is
not much time.  Do you want me to help her regain her mortality?"

He could feel his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands as he struggled
to answer knowing fully that his rash actions had placed him into a position
that offered no way out that would not cost Natalie her life.  And then his
words blurted out, almost on their own.  "I want her to live!"  His outburst
was followed by a deep sigh, and his next words became muffled as he hung his
head and spoke into his hands that he now used to cover his face.  "I want her
to live.  What is it that you will require of me to perform this act?"

"Why Nicholas you are acting as if I am heartless.  Here I am offering you
help and you question my motives."

Recovering from the agony of the certain knowledge that this gift of mortality
would be but a fleeting memory and that he would soon be again enslaved to the
evil, he gathered his strength and locked his gaze with his master.  "You do
ask something for your help.  It is my mortality that you wish to destroy,
isn't it?  Is this the cost for her life?"

"Do not look as this as a sordid bargain.  I prefer to think of this as a
gentleman's agreement."

Nick looked down at her still body.  Her dark hair flowed so softly around her
angelic features that he could not help but become mesmerized for a moment.
Each of her breaths was so gentle and shallow, barely sustaining her.  So
little of her was left- only her physical beauty.  He had taken so much; he
had all but drained her of spirit and innocence.  His mortal body longed to
hold her, to caress, and to make her a part of him.  However, he had taken all
of her goodness into himself already and left nothing but an empty shell of
what she was.  If LaCroix could bring back all that she was, how could he turn
that deal down no matter what the price?  Slowly, he allowed his eyes to drift
back to the only one who might make this miracle of renewed life happen.
"Then if I am to save her, it will cost me my soul?"

"Your soul?  You do not have a soul Nicholas, but if you wish to believe that
one exists then you can keep it.  I merely want my son back."  With a sudden
twist of his head, LaCroix appeared concerned as he looked down at Natalie
then turned his attention back to Nick.  "As much as I despise a rushed
decision, this deal will not be good to either of us if she dies.  It is up to
you Nicholas."

"When?  When would I have to return?"

Astonished by the response, a brief smile crossed LaCroix's lips.  "Why now,
of course."  Curiously, he watched in silence as his son turned away and moved
towards the sunlit windows.  The man he knew only in darkness stood silently
by the glistening panes of glass.  He watched the determination in his child's
blue eyes that now flickered with bits of light.  He marveled at the pale skin
that had now flushed pink from a life-giving pulse, and he hungered.  He
hungered more for this mortal child of his than the day he had made him
eternal centuries ago.  As much as he wanted him, he could not act.  Any force
would be a mistake, and he could not afford to ever get this close to losing
him again.  The same power that had caused his son to lose his immortality
would now convince him, even without her awareness, to return to his rightful
place in the world.  There was only one more piece of information for Nicholas
to contemplate, now that he had almost consented already.  In a flash of
vampiric speed, LaCroix slid to the shaded side of the glass next to his son.

"There is one other thing that you should be aware of Nicholas.  When she
recovers, she will have only minimal memory of you and of course nothing of
our kind.  The human brain is amazing wouldn't you say?  It appears that in
the event of extreme blood loss, it shuts down.  The manner in which her life
is restored to her will allow her to remember you no more than as an
acquaintance."

Nick's eyes closed in pain from the realization of LaCroix's words.  They
would have a chance again at life, but with her having no idea of what they
meant to each other.  How would it be to see her, knowing all that they were
to each other?  Maybe she could learn to love him all over again?  Perhaps
LaCroix was wrong, and she does recover full memory, but he doubted that his
sire was mistaken.  And if he could convince her to love him again, would it
be right to allow her to again have a relationship where there is no future?
If she does not remember anything of the existence of vampires, then it would
be unwise to reintroduce her to a life that would only place her in danger.
Her memory loss, although difficult for him to bear, would be a blessing to
her.  It would be for the best that she forget about him, about them.  Would
she ever feel the same for him?  It would be best that she did not.  Turning
his back to the warm sun's rays, his heart pounded as though it would break
apart as he watched her now so close to death.  Hearing the waves of his own
heartbeat echo in his ears, his lips formed a bittersweet smile.  How happy
Natalie would have been.  She had cured him.  The emotional shock of what he
had done to her had made him mortal.  She had done it, but at what expense?
He was about to again make a deal with LaCroix that would take away everything
Natalie had worked for, even what she was willing to die for.  Surely, she
would sacrifice her life to prevent what he was now contemplating.  But, he
could not let her die.  This world could not afford to be deprived of her
goodness.  His soul was such a small price to pay for her life.  His only
regret was that he would not be able to share in the life that was soon to be
restored to her.  The mortality that vibrated throughout him now felt so good,
and it was because of Natalie that all this was possible.  Yes, he would give
anything to save her, even return to eternal slavery.  If only he could be
granted a reprieve.  If only some small amount of mortality could come about
from what Nat almost died for.  Again, he glanced at her beauty as more
feelings rushed through him now than he had ever consumed in his immortal
life.  Love mixed with helplessness, joy blended with anger, and excitement
collided with fear as he steeled himself before he turned back to LaCroix.

"Do not take me now, LaCroix.  Give me ten mortal years, and I promise to come
back to you."

"I do not appreciate bargaining, Nicholas.  What is your decision?"

"Ten years means nothing to you, it is no more than a glimmer.  Allow me to
have this time, then you will have what you want.  Give this to me, give this
to your son."

Time stood still as they faced each other, immortal to mortal, friend to
friend, father to son.  Both wanting so much, but knowing that there were
sacrifices to be made.  As Nicholas waited, he saw a momentary weakness take
hold of his sire.  LaCroix's eyes then seemed to penetrate him as he again
spoke.

"Five years.  Five years and your word."

Relief and renewed respect washed over Nick.  "My word then!"

After a moment of taking turns directing his focus between the two doomed
lovers, LaCroix backed away as he spoke.  "I will be watching, Nicholas."

"I do not doubt that."

Without a further word, LaCroix dropped down beside Natalie, and picked her up
into his arms.  "Within the hour I will meet you at her home.  Have your
Captain arrive there as well.  I will leave it to you to explain the marks on
her throat.  It will take some time before she is fully healed, but you will
see for yourself that her full mortality will be restored.  We must leave now.
One hour Nicholas."

With one last look, Nick turned away as LaCroix with Natalie slumped against
him, disappeared behind the elevator's doors.  Casting an anxious glance at
the sun, he knew better than to question LaCroix about how he would move
Natalie and himself through sun covered streets.  If his master could bring
back Natalie's life to her, then the small problem of being in the light would
be easily surmountable for the elder vampire.  Slowly, Nick turned himself
around, and stared at the empty apartment.  The feel of death still hung heavy
in the air, but there was not time to mourn all that had happened last night.
Now, arrangements had to be made, he had to tell his Captain to come to
Natalie's apartment and to come up with some explanation that would account
for her condition.  Nicholas dialed the precinct's number without thinking and
spoke with Captain Reese.  With a few well-chosen words, he was able to
convince his Captain to be at Nat's place shortly.  He felt as if time was
standing still, but a quick look outside and he knew that it was well into the
early part of the day.  Walking straight to the elevator, he only stopped to
pick up his keys and his jacket.  Before he had time to think, he found
himself driving the sunlit streets that led to Nat's part of town.  The drive
was incredible, but he did not dare enjoy it.  It hurt too much not to have
her to share in the wonderful sounds, sights, and smells of life.  But as he
paused at a traffic light, his attention was drawn towards a young woman who
was selling flowers on the street.  Large bouquets of colorful spring flowers
overflowed her stand.  Without hesitation, he beckoned her to the car and
asked her to retrieve for him all of the lovely violet colored lilacs that
were for sale.  They would be a gift for Natalie, a gift of spring.  Just as
Mother Nature was renewing itself with this season, so would she be renewed.
Ironically, the one who he had feared would one-day end her life was now
helping her to regain what the one she had trusted had almost taken.  He shook
his head clear of the unhappy thoughts as the young woman approached his Caddy
with the bundle of fresh flowers.  With his purchase complete, he drove as
fast as he dared and parked haphazardly in front of Natalie's apartment
building.  After rushing through the front door and leaping several steps at a
time, he arrived at Nat's door to find it unlocked.  Charging through the main
room, he burst into her bedroom to find LaCroix still ministering to his
mortal patient.  Still panting and out of breath from his dash up the stairs,
Nick saw that LaCroix reacted as if he hardly noticed him as his master looked
up and gave him only the briefest of an acknowledgement.  Slowly, his
breathing calmed down as he saw that she was still alive as she lay on her
bed.  LaCroix had laid her comfortably on her back with her head resting to
one side.  The position had allowed for the two holes from his bite to stand
out, and acted as a painful reminder of his last vampire act.  Two empty
plastic bags of blood lay flattened and folded by the side of the bed, and the
white powdery remnants of some unknown substance still clung to the corners of
her mouth.

Keeping perfectly quiet, Nick waited by the doorway until LaCroix wiped away
what lingered of the powder mixture and looked up at him.  His master studied
him, allowing his eyes to travel up and down the length of his body for
several long seconds.  Then partly in pity and partly in disappointment, he
shook his head over what his son had become, and turned to pick up the two
empty plasma bags.  He couldn't help but feel the longing emptiness in his
heart from his sons departed ways, but his voice did not reveal any emotion.

"It is done.  She will live, as much as mortals do.  During the next week, she
will sleep fitfully, but with each day she will improve."  Looking towards the
ceiling, LaCroix sighed before again bringing his gaze back to his son.  "I
can hear the heartbeat of your Captain climbing the stairs.  I shall leave now
to speak with him.  Say your farewell to her now Nicholas."

Nick felt the cool breeze of displaced air as LaCroix brushed past him by the
door, and he allowed his gaze to remain on the closed door for some time after
his master had departed.  Remembering that his time was limited, he humbly
turned back to Natalie, trying to think and not to feel.  His gaze fell on the
vase filled with yellow daises that he had brought to her at the Morgue the
other night.  It had only been two nights since he had seen them in the
store's window and had persuaded the owner to reopen for one final
transaction.  His impromptu visit and gift had delighted Nat. Her eyes and
smile had been so bright when he had handed them to her that she had
penetrated his veil of darkness.  All that had taken place only two nights
ago.  Why did it now seem like two lifetimes ago?

Pulling the daises from the water, he replaced them with the newly purchased
lilacs and moved to sit on the edge of her bed.  Silently he gazed at her, and
smiled.  All of her color was back, and each of her breaths was even and deep
as her chest rose and fell with ease.  Automatically, he tenderly reached over
to remove a few stray hairs that had fallen across her face.  Then his hand
traced a gentle path down her face and body until he reached her hand.
Clasping his fingers around her hand, he felt for her pulse.  It was strong
and steady, and it thumped beneath his fingers with the same vibration that he
had remembered hearing when they were together.  As he took pleasure in the
feeling of her strong heart rate, his thoughts drifted to the sound of
LaCroix's velvety words as he spoke to the Captain in the next room.  With a
refined, but hypnotic tone, his master was instructing the Captain as to how
things would proceed.  Natalie's condition and his whereabouts were being
explained, he had even specified as to how Nat was to be cared for.  His
thoughts returned to the woman whose hand he now held.  Time was running
short, and he did feel the need to say good-bye.  Raising her hand to the side
of his face, he indulged in the feel of the warm smoothness of her skin
against his cheek.  He held her hand tightly against him as he whispered to
her.  "Natalie."  Just the whisper of her name relieved some of the ache in
his heart.  He loved her so much that it hurt to look at her.

"Nat, you are going to get well now.  You will have a second chance at life
now."  Bitter grief over his loss of her memories gripped his heart, and he
diverted his eyes from her and towards the flowers bursting with life.  He
steadied himself.  There was still more that he needed to say, even though she
could not hear nor would she recall any of his words.  Heartbroken, he turned
back towards her.  "I wish you could see the flowers Nat. I wish I could be
here to see their beauty reflected in your eyes when you do see them.  I know
how much you liked the last flowers that I brought for you.  They are only
lilacs.  I don't know why I brought them, but when I saw them, I knew that you
should have them.  No, that's not true.  I do know why I brought them.  I
wanted them to be here as you recovered.  I wanted them to be here to comfort
you because I will not be here when you awake.  Instead, I leave these here as
a symbol of what we were to one another.  When you see the flowers, remember
that you are loved and that you are safe.  There will be nothing that will
harm you again.  Because of how I feel for you, I know that I must let you go.
You will be free now to live a normal life.  But what we shared will never be
lost.  It will always live on, in silence and in me, forever."

The bed squeaked slightly as he released her hand and listlessly stood to move
towards the closed door.  With his hand on the doorknob, he turned his head
for one last lingering look before exiting the bedroom and moving into the
living room.  Standing only a meter behind LaCroix, he waited for his final
words to Reese to end and for him to depart.  The two mortal police officers
stood in complete silence.  Nick could see no reason to hasten all the lies
and deceptions that he would have to act out to protect himself and so many
others.  Becoming mortal again had thrust him into a world long since remote
and alien.  Then, as if awakening from a dream, Reese groggily shook his head
and saw Nick standing before him.

"Damn, my wife has been telling me that I'm not getting enough sleep.  I
almost dozed off standing up."  Raising his hand to his face, he rubbed at his
eyes.  "Is Dr. Lambert all right in there?  I know that the doctor says she'll
be fine, but it sounded pretty bad when you called."

"She's resting now, but she's fine.  Did the doctor suggest any special
treatment?"

"Yeah, he said to bring in some nurses and maybe a doctor to help her through
the rough part."  Still trying to think clearly again, he scratched at his
forehead.  "Did you say you just found her laying outside your building when
you got home?"

"There was a large dog near her, that I chased away.  When I saw that she was
all right, I brought her here then called her doctor and you."

Still rubbing at his head, Reese moved towards the kitchen table and sat down
then motioned for Nick to join him.  By the way his Captain was acting, he
knew that bad news was coming.  Without hesitation, he took the chair across
the table.  Concerned eyes looked deeply into his soul as he watched Reese
pause before he reluctantly broke the quietness of the room.

"It sure has been one hell of a night Nick.  I don't know how to tell you this
in an easy way, so I'm going to give it to you straight.  Tracy didn't make
it.  I think that is what Dr. Lambert was on her way to tell you when all this
happened.  I'm sorry about Tracy, Nick.  You two were good together."

Nick took a deep breath in before he replied.  "I already knew Cap. I was told
when I called the precinct to tell you about Dr. Lambert.  I have been the
source of too much trouble.  You will have my resignation as soon as I can
return to the precinct to clear out my desk."

Disturbed by Nick's response, Reese's voice began to rise out of frustration.
"What are you talking about Nick?  This is a tragedy, but it is not your
fault.  And after you talk to the Review Board, they are going to come to the
same conclusion.  I know that you hurt.  When a thing like this happens, you
hurt in places deep in your soul that you never knew you had.  But you don't
run away, you use it to make yourself stronger.  We need you Nick.  Don't
abandon us now."

"I appreciate everything that you are saying Captain, but I am not sure that I
can survive another loss.  It hasn't been even a year since Schanke..."  He
broke of, unable to finish the sentence.

Wanting to help, Reese stood up and walked to where Nick sat and placed a
reassuring hand on his shoulder.  "You never get over the losses.  You tear
yourself up inside, but you live with them and you go on.  You know that Tracy
and Schanke would have wanted it that way, and so would you if it had been the
other way around."

Accepting as true all that his Captain said, Nick stood up and faced him as
streams of memories of his partners passed before his eyes.  "I miss them Cap.
I'll never forget them."

"No one is saying for you to forget them.  You take that piece of their lives
that touched you, and you hold on to it and you make it a part of you.  And
they are a part of you; you are different because of what they gave to you.
And as long as you live so do they, through you.  I know you Nick.  You're a
survivor.  You're stronger than you think."  Crossing the room, Reese quietly
pushed open Natalie's bedroom door, and took a quick look inside before
turning back to Nick.  "Nick, I'm going to make arrangements for the Review
Board to meet with you later today while everything's still fresh in your
mind."

Nick stood to face Reese.  "I'll meet with them Cap, and I'll accept any
decision they make."

"There's only one decision they can make.  That you acted in accordance to
procedure.  You did what you had to do, no one would have done anything
differently."  With a reassuring smile, he turned to search for the phone.
After he located it, his eyes returned to Nick.  "Hey, I have some calls to
make to have some help brought in here.  I want you to go home for now and get
some rest."

"Maybe later, but for now I would be more comfortable at the precinct.  I am
not ready for home yet."

"I understand."  He watched as Nick moved towards the door to leave then
called after him.  "Oh Nick, you have a few rough days ahead of you, so don't
forget that I'll be there anytime you need me day or night.  And that goes for
the others down at the precinct too.  You got friends, you're not in this
alone."

A smile briefly crossed his lips.  "Thanks Cap."  He slowly closed the door
behind him as he left.  It was true that he was not alone, he did know that,
but he could have been surrounded by tens of thousands and his heart would
still ache with loneliness.  The only one who could put an end to his solitude
was recovering from a near fatal wound that he had caused, and may not even
remember his name.
 

End Part One

Onto Part Two!