History:  This story was previously appeared in
KNIGHTBEAT IX, published by Fenis House, a division of
SPECIAL SERVICES Unlimited.
Disclaimer:  The usual statement.
Archiving:   Permission to archive granted by author.
 

        The robust, throaty snorting in a continuous singsong
resonated through the dark and narrow room.  Nick
looked over at the sleeping Schanke.  In the darkness
he could clearly see the golden outline that surrounds
all things living as it dimmed and hugged close to the
body; a sure indication of deepening slumber.  Nick
smiled.  Turning back to the window he continued to
watch as an old cat slowly crossed the deserted and
ice-crusted street.
        Once across it carefully picked it’s way through the
mounded snow, then finally up the steps of a tired
looking two-story house which was nestled between two
apartment buildings.  At the top step the cat sat down
and started licking the snow and the wetness from its
forepaws.
        An overhead light flicked on.  And as the front door
slowly opened, the cat stood up.  Like a weary warrior
returned from his watch, it gave one last look to the
world beyond, then turned with tail held high and
trotted into the opened doorway.  It disappeared into
the warm, yellow light of the inside.  As the door
pulled shut Nick softly whispered, “I envy you.”  The
porch light flicked out.
        Schanke, still deep in sleep, rolled over onto side
and the old, battered cot under him squealed in
protest.  The wood-sawing symphony continued unabated.
        “Watchdog to Hightower!  Watchdog to Hightower!”
Nick dashed to the table and grabbed the mike.  A
quick glance at the cot told him the noise hadn’t
disturbed Schanke.  His snoring continued.
        “Hightower here.  What’s happening?”
        “Everything’s okay.  No sign of the perp yet.   Just
letting you know Benny’s stepping out for coffee and
donuts.  You guys want anything?”
        “No thanks.  We’re fine up here.”  Nick answered,
relaxing.
        “Nothing?  I can’t believe that.  The Schankeman must
be asleep.”
        “Yeah, he’s shakin the rafters.”
        “God, I can believe that.  I worked stakeout with him
one time and I was deaf for a week.  How can you stand
it?  You’re a true partner, Knight.  He better take
good care of you.  Good partners are hard to come by.
Listen, we’ve started a pool with the other shifts on
what time the perp will make a show.  One AM is still
open, you two want in?  The pot’s over $300!”
        “Alright, put us down for $50.”
        “Okay, Knight.  I know you’re good for it.  Me and
Benny have $50 riding on 9AM.  You know Knight, I just
don’t get it.  This guy’s been on the run for all
these years, why come back now?  Twenty years on the
lamb for homicide, if I were him, I’d keep running
until I dropped dead.  What’s the point in coming back
to a shabby home, old people who will soon be dead and
a future of sitting in a stinking prison cell for the
rest of my days?  It jus doesn’t make any sense to
me.”
        “Konski,” Nick spoke softly into the mike, “you can’t
run forever.  You get very tired of the running.  In
the end, it’s only the fear of discovery that keeps
you going.  It’s the not being able to settle down
that finally gets to you.  You start to dream about
what you had to leave behind and in the end you’ll do
anything to get at least a part of it back.”
        “Well Knight, that’s you, not me.  Well, okay.  Give
Donny Boy a big kiss goodnight for me and I’ll talk to
you guys later.  Watchdog out.”
        As the radio fell silent, Schanke’s snoring dominated
the room again.
        Down below in the street, the rear door of a beat-up,
old white van that was parked in front of a
three-story apartment building sitting next the cat’s
house, opened and a man cautiously emerged.  Dressed
in mismatched and worn clothing, he had all the
appearance of someone whose present address was the
very vehicle he had just come from.  Arms hugged close
to his body, trying to keep warm in the chilled air,
he headed down the block for the light of the corner
store.
        Nick watched Benny until he disappeared inside the
shop.  Taking one of the metal folding chairs from the
opposite wall, he set it near the window where he
could sit and continue observing the apartment
directly across the way.
        In that third-story apartment lived an elderly
couple.  A grandson whom they had raised and loved and
who had killed two people in anger, after two decades
of silence had called to tell them he was coming home.
 They reminded him that they would have to call the
police.  He told them to do whatever they must, it
didn’t matter anymore, he was coming home.  The old
couple brokenheartedly called the police and the
stakeout was set in place.
        The flickering silvery light from a television screen
showed through the cracks in the pulled curtain of the
window of that apartment.  It fluttered on and off,
light and dark.  It became the only thing that gave a
sense of movement in the motionless world outside of
Nick’s window.  Schanke’s snoring with its rising and
falling metronomic beat added to the growing
atmosphere of ennui that lay heavily in the room.
        “You know Schanke,” Nick began talking, trying to
break up the monotony that had settled about him.
“We’ve been together for maybe four years now.  I know
a great deal about you.   But what do you know about
me?”  The husky resonance from the huddled figure on
the cot rumbled an answer.  Nick sadly chuckled.
“That’s right, nothing!  I know you are used to things
being different.  Your partners being more like
yourself.  There’s openness and vitality about you
that I’ve grown to admire, even envy at times.
        “This hasn’t been easy for you.  As partners, we are
certainly not the best combination.  Stonetree used to
laugh and call us the ‘odd couple of homicide”.  Cohen
is still trying to figure out just how we get the job
done since we’re always at odds.  Never seeing the
case the same angle at the same time.  Even with all
our differences you have still treated me with the
same trust and consideration you treat others.  You
even made me an unofficial member of your family.  You
don’t know how much I appreciated that.
        “At first, I didn’t want to be saddled with a mortal
partner.  Too dangerous.  Between catching the
criminal and concentrating on not revealing my true
nature, there could be a slip up and the life of my
partner would be threatened.  Now, I don’t know what I
would do without you.”
        The gray light winked out.  Nick looked down at his
watch noting the time.  “Fifteen to eleven, television
must be really lousy tonight.”
        Benny was returning, walking carefully on the slick
concrete.  Balanced in one hand was a paper tray
holding two huge white foam cups still giving off
steam, and in the other hand he clutched a large paper
bag.  When he arrived at the back of the van, he
kicked the door.  The door to the van swung open and
Nick watched as first the cups were handed in, and
then Benny himself disappeared inside with the door
swinging shut behind him.  The van rocked side to
side, finally settling down as the two men inside
settled down to continue the wait.
        Snow began to fall and everything was turned into
shades of gray and white.  Nick gently tucked the
extra blanket that had been left for him around his
sleeping partner.  The snow meant a drop in
temperature and he didn’t need it anyway.
        Stationed once again back at the window, Nick sat
with his arms folded on the wide windowsill and
placidly watched as the white, fluffy flakes fell,
piling themselves on the ledge outside the window.
Remembering other times of snows and waiting, of
friends and companions long since dead and names
forgotten.  He let the time slowly crawl by unnoticed
and Schanke’s snoring faded into the background.
        “I wonder, at times, why I angst about this at all.”
Nick spoke to the window and falling snow.  “It would
be so much easier, for the both of us, if I would just
go ahead and tell you I’m a vampire.  But tell me
Schanke, just what would you do with your partner the
vampire?  Would our partnership still be on the same
level?  Would we still be bonded together under that
age-old code of trust between those who face life and
death together?  Would you look on me with compassion
and understanding or would you only see me with fear
and loathing?  I just don’t know.
        “Oh, I know I can trust you.  You would keep my
secret safe but I would lose the one thing I have come
to value the most from you--the sense of equality.  In
whatever danger we walk into out there in streets--we
are equals.  In whatever life throws our way--we are
equal.  You make me feel something I haven’t felt in a
long time--human.  So please forgive me for continuing
this masquerade a little while longer.  One day, my
friend, we will have that talk.  I promise you.”
        Every light in the apartment across the way came on
and Nick reached for the mike.

        Schanke slid onto the front seat of the Caddy and
turned to Nick.
        “Okay, I missed out on the capture.  We won the pool
by a good ten minutes.  So tell me, what else did I
miss while I was sleeping?”  But before Nick could
give an answer, Schanke started up again.  “No!
Don’t!  Let me guess!  The cure for the common cold
was discovered!  They’re now cloning dinosaurs in
Japan! And WE were abducted by little green men from
Mars!  Damn it Nick, next time wake me up!  I could’ve
missed something very important!”
        “I keep telling you, Schanke,” Nick flashed him one
of his most innocent smiles, “nothing very important
happen.  Oh and, they’re little gray men and they’re
not from Mars.  Believe me.”  While Schanke stared at
him with a puzzled look on his face, Nick turned the
key in the ignition and the car’s engine roared into
life.