Nick, Schanke, and Natalie belong to Sony Tristar.

This little fic may be adopted and cuddled and wuved by anyone who can stand it; including www.fkfanfic.com.

Comments may be sent to: [email protected] (This is in apology for my major faux paux earlier today. Or would you all have preferred a Hallmark card?) <g>

I don't know about Toronto, but here in Phoenix there is a main street that has nothing but car dealers for what seems like miles. And they are constantly using every tacky gimmick they can think of to get people's attention. Unfortunately, their tackiness inspired this diseased plot bunny which I, of course, snatched up with the full intent of drop kicking it into next week recyle bin... and.. well... Darn it, I'm ill here!

To continue with my inablity to choose short title names:

Nick drove his Caddy down the street, racking his brain as to what he was going to do about Natalie's gift as he flashbacked to an earlier conversation with his partner.

[Earlier that night at the precinct.]

"I tell you, Nick," Schanke began between mouthfuls of his souvlaki 'lunch', "something's wrong with Nat."

"What makes you say that?"

"I dunno. She just does. You should get her a gift."

"A gift?"

"Yeah--- you know--- something that she really likes. Only... I dunno... *bigger* maybe. Like--- funky. Something that will take her mind off of whatever is troubling her."

"Schanke..."

"Yeah, yeah--- your only friends. So, what's wrong with doing something friendly like for her? Take my word for it, Nick--- women appreciate thoughtfulness. Take the time I took Myra on that Hawaii trip..."

[Present Time]

Making a right turn (and nearly taking out the only pedestrian in view), Nick shook himself back into the present before the part where Schanke had gotten into full gear about Myra and hipwaders on Maui Maui.

A gift. For his Natalie. For his Natalie in a funk. A funky gift that would get her out of her funk.

But what kind of gift? He had already given her flowers, chocolate, and jewelry on other occasions. But those had usually been because he was either seeking her forgiveness or trying to woo her away from those homicidal date choices of hers. (... Present company excepted, of course.)

What could he give that would be special in a *friendly*, funky, type way?

Nick was just considering giving up and going with a ho hum bouquet of daisies when the Caddy cruised by a new car sales lot. He did a double take and hit the brakes.

It was huge.
It was funky.
It practically screamed 'Natalie!'.
She'd love it.
It was PERFECT!!

[Much Later-- At The Lambert-Rented Abode]

Yawning mightily, Dr. Natalie Lambert, Coroner, reached over and put her alarm clock out of her misery, but it was no use--- she was awake. Sort of. Rolling out of bed, she rubbed her eyes tiredly and staggered towards her window in order to let in some fresh air in the hopes that it would help clear her foggy brain.

For days now she had been wondering what to do about her rather stagnant stock portfolios and her inability to decide whether to change her choices or stick with them had gotten her feeling a little depressed.

She chuckled to herself in a semi comatose way as she struggled with her window blinds. Here she was the 'Doctor to The Undead' and what had her angstying? Retirement Funds. Her groping fingers finally located the blind's pull, and she tugged it down sharply before prying her eyes open to take in day's view.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Outside the two-story apartment complex, a strolling couple out for a little excercise wondered at the mentality of an Apartment Manager who would stoop so low as to use one of those tacky, inflatable King Kong balloons the car dealers were so fond of. The fool had even faced the roaring, brown monstrosity the wrong way from the street! They continued walking, clicking there tongues at some people's mentality.