Thanks to my beta readers Debra Ann Fiorini and Mike Smith.  A special
thank you to Annette, my niece, for all translations, and to Jeanne,
my sister, for reading and commenting (and beating me to a pulp over
my grammar <g>), even though neither has seen Forever Knight.
However, that situation is, even as I post, being rectified.  You
never know, I might have two new converts.

A few other things:

This story was germinated late one night when I accidentally mixed two
parts Thorne Smith with 1 part Rafael Sabatini... Something that you
should not try to duplicate at home!

Pronunciation:

When Nick's name is spelled "Nicolas", please note that this is the
French pronunciation, i.e. what is phonetically pronounced as Nicolah.
When Nick's name is spelled "Nicholas", this is the English
pronunciation, please add an English accent as you say it <g>.

All French translations are approximate since the French would, as
Annette assured me, never say something quite like that.  In fact
several were double-checked for an appropriate translation with her
French friends.  I, on the other hand, am limited to "oui" and "non"
and wouldn't have a klew, so I am very grateful for her help.

I have to admit, playing with these characters is a whole lot of fun,
and none of them were permanently injured in the writing of this story.
Which is more than we can say when we let the PTB play with them!

Please archive this story on the ftp site.

Send comments to delggren@loftworks.com.


And now that we've got through all that stuff, let's roll Mr. Mollin's
wonderful music.

He was brought across in 1228....



Somewhere....
By Dorothy Elggren


She never felt it.  Suddenly every sound was thundering in her head.
The room began to stretch out as the edges swirled with black and red
tinged hues.  Time dilated--every second lasted forever.  An aching
darkness called to her.

The impact slammed her back into the wall and then her knees buckled,
and she began to slide down the wall.  Blackness suddenly overwhelmed
her.  She watched the room shrink down to a little white dot--and then
go dark.  She didn't feel herself sliding.  She didn't hear the cries
of the others in the room.  She never felt her knees slam into the
ground.  She didn't know that she toppled forward landing face down on
the plush carpet.  She never heard the soft splat as her cheek
collided with the ground or the exhalation of air from her lungs.  She
was already too far away.

                               *****

The world was soft and radiant and tinged with pastel colors.  It was
like being inside an Easter egg.  A golden plain stretched before her,
and in the distance, it seemed to curve upwards to meet a pink and
yellow sky.  Fluffy cotton clouds sprinkled with glitter hung from the
sky.  There was no sound anywhere.

She had the faint suspicion that she was hung over.  Had she been
drinking?  Oddly enough, she couldn't remember drinking anything.
Furthermore, she had no idea where she was.  She discovered she was
leaning back against a willow tree, dreamily staring up at the sky.
Remembering didn't seem to matter.  Not much.

She slowly became aware that he was standing there watching her.  He
had walked out of nowhere--one moment he hadn't been there, the next
he had.  He was short and portly, and very well dressed, even if it
was sixty years out of style.  His fedora seemed perfect in this
place, and his grey double-breasted suit with the wide lapels was
soothing.  His goatee was neatly trimmed, and she bemusedly admired
his spats.  The chain of his pocket watch hung neatly from his vest.
He reminded her of the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland.

She supposed she should be concerned, but why bother?  She watched him
out of the corner of her eye.  He was polishing something intently.

"Hello, Natalie." he said.  He stopped his polishing to hold out the
something; it glinted gold in the sunlight.  He examined it minutely,
and then went back to polishing it with a paisley silk handkerchief.

"Hello."  Natalie smiled back at him, perfectly amiable.

"Do you know where you are?"  He inquired politely.

"No.  Does it matter?  It's so peaceful here.  So calm."  She
stretched and realized she was wearing something long and silky-soft.
It was a fine crushed-muslin ankle-length dress, with a
square neckline.  Odd, she didn't own anything like this.  She
inspected her attire with interest.  The shoes were fascinating.
She turned her ankles to check them out; there seemed to be no right or
left shoe.  But still, they were comfortable, so she wasn't
complaining.  She could be the heroine in Robin Hood in this outfit,
she thought.  All she needed now was a hero.

"I do wish you would pay attention," her companion complained. "This
is quite important act-ually."  She smiled at the way he said
actually.  He made it into two words.  "You are neither here nor
there, you know," he continued.

At that, Natalie reluctantly focused her attention on him.  "What do
you mean, neither here nor there?  Who are you anyway?  Where am I?"

He smiled gently.

Suddenly, she felt awake and vibrantly alive.  She couldn't ever
recall feeling quite like this before.  A light breeze thundered in
her ears.  All her senses seemed heightened.  Her hair danced around
her, and she impatiently captured it, holding it out of her eyes.

He sat down on a stump that hadn't been there before.  "My name is
Arthur.  And you, my dear, are between life and death.  Don't you
remember?  You were shot, you know, " he said conversationally.  He
looked up and smiled at her, his grey eyes glinting with laughter.

Natalie was suddenly assaulted by memories.  The jewelry store.  She
had gone there to pick up Nick's birthday present.  They had called
her, telling her it was ready only that morning.  She'd had the ring
crafted specifically to the design she had given them.  She remembered
slipping on the icy walkway going in.  Her breath had hung in the cold
December air in little puffs.  The door had been chill to her touch.

Holding the ring in her hand, she had shivered with anticipation, and
had been slightly giddy paying for it.  It was, after all, a small
fortune.  It was 18 karat gold and of an old-fashioned design, with a
heraldic insignia.  Specifically, the heraldry of one Nicolas de
Brabant.  Nestled in the insignia was an N.  It was beautiful, and
she couldn't wait to give it to him.

She had just shoved the gift-wrapped box into her pocket when the door
had blasted open.  He couldn't have been more than twenty-two or
three.  His hair had hung in greasy strings around his face and his
clothing was worn and dirty.  He'd been nervous and anxious.
Demanding the jewelry cases be opened, he had grabbed gold necklaces
and chains clumsily, and stuffed rings into the bag with an unsteady
hand.

Natalie, like everyone else, had plastered herself against the wall.
It had been her bad luck that the guy next to her had decided to be a
hero--like Richard.  He'd rushed the kid like a football player (she
could hear Richie's voice saying 'Isn't that just like a linebacker!'),
and the kid had fired wildly at him.

She remembered then, the impact--hitting the wall and collapsing.
After all, she *had* been in the line of fire.  She wondered if the
football player had been hurt.  Had he taken the kid down?  And then it
hit her.  Nick.  Oh no...  What would Nick do when he heard?  Nick...
It wasn't fair.  She wasn't ready to leave Nick, to let this life go.
So much...

"Natalie?"  Arthur tapped her lightly on the arm.  "Do come back.  We
have a lot to do, you know."

"I was shot," Natalie said numbly.  "Nick.  Oh God!  Nick!  This is
going to destroy him."

"Natalie, I really must point out that now is not the time to panic.
You are not dead, nor are you going to die."

                               *****

Lights strobed red and blue, refracting and skittering along the
windows of the buildings.  Police cars were parked haphazardly in
front of Williams & Goldman's Fine Jewelry.  The arriving ambulance
wove a path among the patrol cars to gain access.

In a patrol car, a stringy-haired, sullen-looking kid sat, handcuffed
and temporarily subdued.  A twitching need frissoned along his nerves.
He shifted uneasily.  He needed a fix.

On the grey plush carpet, ugly red stains spread out from the three
victims of misplaced heroism.  A clerk lay covered by a blanket, past
saving.  The hero lay coughing, blood bubbling in his lungs.  And
Natalie lay unconscious as paramedics struggled to stablilize her.

Officer Lapinski stood watching, chewing his lip and thinking hard.
As they lifted her onto the gurney, he grabbed one of the paramedics.
"How is she doing, Keller?" he asked.

"She's stable and her vitals are good.  Doesn't look like anything
critical was hit, but she's probably got a concussion from hitting the
wall.  All in all, her chances are pretty good," Keller replied,
shaking his head.  "Man, I hate it when it's someone you know."  With
that, he followed Natalie out to the waiting ambulance.

Lapinski yelled at his partner, Reynolds, "Anybody know if Schanke is
working today?"  He'd much rather tell Schanke, and let him tell
Knight.  That was one phone call he definitely did NOT want to make.

                               *****

Somewhere, there was a brooklet making burbling noises, underscoring
Arthur's statement.

"What do you mean, I'm not going to die?  If I'm not going to die, why
am I here, why aren't I just unconscious or something?  Where is here,
anyway?  It looks like the inside of one of those sugar Easter eggs.
You know, the ones with the little scene?"

Arthur looked at her, amused.

"This isn't an Easter egg, is it?"  Natalie asked, the words tripping
over each other.  She shook her head as if to clear it.  Why did she
have such a distinct impression of an Easter egg?

He gently smiled. "No it's not an Easter egg.  You are elsewhen,
Natalie, and you are here because it's the only time and place where I
can fulfill your wish.  I don't often grant wishes to adults, because
they don't really want them enough, and well, frankly, they don't
believe.  Children, now, are truly remarkable and one can grant wishes
for children in so many ways.  Ah, but I wander from the point," he
said as he noticed her expression.  "No, I'm not your fairy godfather
or anything.  I merely grant wishes that are strong enough to rise
above the roar of life.  And you, Natalie, have a truly incredible
desire.  It's just that there are not too many ways I can grant it.
This little incident," he said softly, "is the only window we have."

"Mm..my wish?"  Natalie stuttered.

"Yes.  Your wish.  Most interesting.  Quite."  Silence stretched
between them.  He seemed lost in thought.

"Umm, what wish?"

"What?  Oh, sorry.  I was... nevermind."  Arthur delicately crossed a
leg and inspected his trouser crease.  "Of course, there are parts of
it that I really can't do anything about.  After all, I can't really
interfere with God's plan now, can I?"

Natalie stared at him, her eyes narrowing, trying to follow his
circumlocution.

"Vampires are, after all, some of God's creatures, too.  I just can't
go changing what is: whether you find a cure or not; whether it can
be or not; well it's not for me to know or say.  What the future may
bring, Natalie, is the future--your future.  Though I do imagine it
is very lonely being in love with Nick."  He looked at her
sympathetically.

"*How* do you know about Nick?"  Natalie demanded, more than a little
shaken.

"It's my job, Natalie," Arthur gently reminded her.  "I know what is in
people's hearts.  How else can I grant wishes?  But that is not
important.  What is important is your wish.  It is true you want to
cure him, but even more you want to see him happy.  You want to see
him in the sunshine--alive and free, without the guilt or the
unhappiness or shame.  You want to see Nick with a whole heart."

Natalie felt his words cut to her very core.  He had, in a few swift
sentences, revealed what she hardly dared acknowledge in the deepest
recesses of her heart.  Her beating heart sounded loudly in her ears.

"And you would give _anything_ just to spend a few hours, a day, with
that Nicholas...  Anything."

Natalie looked away.  He reached out and put a finger under her chin,
forcing her to look at him.

He smiled sweetly at her.  "Not exactly an easy wish to grant.  Oh, I
could have given you a dream, but this seems so much more satisfying,
don't you think?"

"This isn't a dream?"  Natalie asked, incredulous.  "It sure feels
like a dream, and how is this... whatever it is, more satisfying?  I
don't understand.  My being shot does *not* make Nick mortal.  It
doesn't free Nick from what he is."

"I know you don't understand, but, no, this isn't a dream.  To put it in
simplistic terms that you can understand, there are two of you now.
One of you is lying in an operating room, and the other is
here...talking to me.  So while you are unconscious, you are also
temporarily outside the normal bounds of your life.  And while I can't
mess with the future, I do dabble, rather brilliantly, if I say so
myself, with the past. "

"I'm sorry, but you've really lost me," Natalie retorted.

Just then the hind legs and wagging tail of a dog came bounding to a
stop in front of Arthur.  Natalie looked closely.  Yes, there was a
nose, too, but nothing in between.  She felt very strange.

"Rolly!"  scolded Arthur.  "You are scaring poor Natalie.  If you can't
bring yourself to make a complete appearance, I suggest you
disappear."  The tail wagged furiously.  And then it slowly became
transparent and vanished.

"That's much better," Arthur said.  A happy little bark answered him.

He looked at Natalie and said apologetically, "I'm afraid Rolly has
never been very good at materializing."

Natalie stared in fascination at the empty air where Rolly wasn't.
She looked at Arthur.  "Would you mind explaining that?" she asked.

"You are neither here nor there, Natalie, and this is a low
spirit-plane we are borrowing.  Let's just leave it at that, shall we?"
he said conspiritorially.

Natalie sat there with an open mouth, stunned.  She really couldn't
think of anything to say.

"Now, where was I?  Oh, yes.  This is *your wish*, Natalie.  You have
wished for a day with Nick in the sunshine.  A day where he is alive,
and of whole heart.  And it has been granted.  But you must
understand, it may not necessarily be Nick's wish.  So what happens
here is not scripted, nor may it be what you expect or want.  It just
will be.  Might I suggest, you just enjoy whatever the day
brings.  Live for and in the moment, Natalie.  Give Nick the
opportunity to be who he is, and--who he was."

"Wha..what do you mean?"  Natalie asked.  She felt like the world was
upside down.  Really, this was the strangest conversation.  Maybe it
was shock or something from being shot.  If she was dead, or dying, or
in-between, shouldn't she be seeing that door and the Guide that Nick
had talked about?  She peered around in vain for any sign of a door.
Nope.  Nothing.

"Natalie, please try to stay with me here.  There really isn't that
kind of door here, because you are not, I repeat, not dying!"  Arthur
had taken up his polishing task again.  For someone who didn't seem
like he was paying much attention to the here and now, he sure noticed
everything, she thought.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I just can't really accept that this is real.  I
just don't believe that things like this happen," Natalie retorted.

"I know.  You take a very scientific approach to life.  But you have a
blind spot, Natalie.  You don't think to question what you believe so
deep in your heart you don't even realize it's there *to* question.
But trust me, Natalie, this is real.  My sources tell me that your life
is going to become even more difficult because of the path you've
chosen, because of your love.  Think of this, if you will, as a
butterfly.  A moment of happiness, a wonderful opportunity has landed
freely in your hand.  Don't crush it.  Just enjoy it.  Treasure it.
And then you can remember it when times are difficult, and there are
only tears in your life."

"What do you mean? Are things are going to get more difficult?  What's
going to happen?"  Natalie demanded, afraid.

"Now, Natalie, I can't tell you the future because it hasn't happened
yet.  So let's just talk about the here and now, shall we?"

From the look on his face, Natalie deduced correctly that he wasn't
going to tell her anything.  She leaned back against the willow and
muttered grumpily, "Oh, all right."

Arthur's face quirked into a grin at her attitude.  "You are truly a
delight, Natalie.  No false pretenses, even in the face of the unknown,
however frightening, strange, or absurd."

Natalie refused to give up her tantrum.  She folded her arms crossly,
and stared at her feet.

Arthur laughed aloud.

"Oh come, Natalie, it's not that bad.  In fact, this is a wonderful
day in your life, despite being shot.  It's an opportunity unlike any
other you've ever had or ever will have..."

Natalie felt a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.  It was all
just too absurd.

"That's better," Arthur said.  "Now really, we must get this show on
the road.  Non-time is a-wasting, you know," he said briskly.  "Now I
couldn't get twenty-four hours, but I did get sixteen, er... that is
sixteen hours of non-time.  In real-time it boils down to more like
four.  Nice exchange rate, don't you think?  You leave reality for
four hours and get sixteen," he smiled.  "However, modern technology
really does limit me sometimes," he complained, "but there isn't a
thing I can do about it.  You will be conscious again in four hours.
That means we have sixteen to play with.  It is a pity that I can't
request which sixteen hours of the day I get, but unfortunately," he
shrugged, "there is a certain amount of correlation that I just can't
escape."

Natalie couldn't help herself, she stared in fascination.  She would
really love to study this guy, not to mention this place.

Arthur leaned forward and looked into her eyes.  His expression became
serious.  "Now pay attention, this is very important."

"This wouldn't be the part where you tell me I have to leave at the
stroke of midnight or I'll turn into a pumpkin, would it?" Natalie
asked.  She just couldn't help herself.

A smile slid across Arthur's face, and a bark of laughter escaped him.
"No, 'fraid not.  However, a door will appear shortly after dawn.
When you see it, you will need to step through it and return.  Just
before it appears, Nick will fall deeply asleep and will not see
anything that could change the course of his life."

"What do you mean, change his life?  I don't understand."  Natalie was
confused.

"Remember I said I couldn't change the future, but I dabble in the
past?  I can't make Nick mortal, Natalie.  God won't allow it.  There
is a path that Nick must follow, and you or I cannot change it.  What
I can do is take you to when Nick *was* mortal.  Before," Arthur said
quietly, but firmly.

"Before?  But if it's before, he won't know me."  Natalie protested.

"Yes, he will.  Trust me.  I have created a bridge between Nicolas de
Brabant and Nick Knight.  The man he was will recognize you, because
of the man he is.  What he won't know is what he has become, and how
he feels about his life.  He will see fragments, images, that will
tell him all he needs to know about you.  However, I don't know if he
loves you as you love him.  I have not been allowed to look into his
heart or mind.  Simply too dangerous--no don't ask me why.  But
whatever he feels about you will rise to the surface, and he *will*
know you.  His heart will be free and whole.  I must warn you, though,
and this is very serious, you must not tell him anything that will
make him realize what he has become.  He must choose his path, and you
may not influence it."

"Oh."  Natalie said faintly.

"Don't be afraid, Natalie.  This is your opportunity to know the man,
what he is like without the vampire.  It's a chance for you to know
the little things, small details.  Take this gift, Natalie, and enjoy
it.  Live in the moment.  Seize the day.  Whatever happens, happens."

He paused for a moment, then his eyes twinkled as he looked at her.
"Oh, and don't worry about the language barrier, I've taken care of
that.  Couldn't have you speaking twentieth century English and Nick
speaking thirteenth century French, now could we?"

Natalie stared at him, open-mouthed.  She was sure she was gawking,
but she couldn't help it.  This was just too weird.

As he spoke, he stood, his hand under her elbow, forcing her to rise.
Suddenly flowers fell from the sky.  She didn't know what kind, but
they were beautiful.  She looked up at the glittering, surreal sky and
suddenly felt her heart lighten.  Her burdens fell away from her and
she laughed.  She reached out to catch the flowerfall; her hair was
christened with tiny flowers as she held her arms up to embrace the
moment.  She looked at Arthur and smiled.

"Thank you," Natalie said, and meant it.  In her mind, all at once,
was a list of do's and don'ts for her excellent adventure.  She didn't
know how he did it, but it didn't matter.  She understood, and she was
excited.

Arthur reached out and opened the thick brass-studded oak door that was
unexpectedly there.  She looked through it and saw a towering wheat field,
rustling in the breeze under a sky so blue it took her breath away.
The sun gilded the landscape and everything shone with a newness she
could never have imagined.  A pathway led from the doorway to a hill,
and then disappeared from view in a grove of trees.

"On the other side of the hill is a lake.  I've left you a basket with
a nice little dinner, and a really wonderful red wine.  Nicolas will
be coming along the lake edge in about ten minutes.  Better hurry up.
Oh, and you might want this..."

She looked at his outstretched hand.  In it was the ring that she
clearly remembered shoving into her pocket when the robbery occurred.
With astonishment, Natalie realized that it was the ring--Nick's ring,
Arthur had been polishing.

"Where...how did you get that?" she demanded as she took it.

Arthur simply smiled.  "Out of your pocket, Natalie.  I thought you
might want it.  Now, are you going to step through that door or what?"

Natalie froze suddenly, caught between the tremendous excitement and
the fear of all her dreams being within reach, *really* within reach.

"Shoo!" said Arthur and whacked her on her rump.  She jumped through
the doorway.  Looking back through the door into the Easter egg world
at Arthur, she smiled, and then turned and ran down the pathway.  His
voice followed her.

"I'll meet you in the doorway tomorrow morning!  Have fun!  Remember,
accept what is given you...."

At the top of the hill, she turned.  There was no doorway, no Arthur.
It was if the modern world had never been.  Natalie was here in this
wonderful world dressed like a heroine, and she was about to see her
hero, her golden-haired, blue-eyed knight.  She shivered with
excitement.

She looked around and saw only wide-open beautiful country-side
interspersed with tall stands of trees spreading out as far as she
could see.  She took a deep breath...and made a face.  Yup, it was the
country, all right.  That wonderful smell of...animals.  But still, the
air was so fresh, the sky so clear that she felt lighter than air.
She danced down the path to the lakeside.  A woven basket sat by the
pathway.  She peeked in and saw a blanket, a loaf of that skinny long
French bread, cheese, meat and a bottle of wine, along with other odds
and ends.

Natalie looked down at the basket, then she looked around and saw the
path that Nick would be coming down, leading out of a thicket of
trees.  She hugged herself and giggled in a most un-Natalie-like way.

"Carpe Diem," she breathed softly.  "Carpe Diem."  She took a deep
breathe and picked up the basket.

                               *****

The phone rang.  Nick buried his head under his pillow.  It didn't
work.  He could still hear Schanke's voice.

"Nick, buddy.  If you are awake, you'd better pick up, pronto.  I've
got some bad news.  Nick?  Come on, pick up!  This is important."

Nick sighed and rolled out of bed.  He took the short-cut to the
phone, the one over the railing and straight down.

"Yeah, Schank, what is it?"  Nick asked, picking up the phone.

"It's Natalie," Schanke said.

Nick felt his insides freeze up and he stopped breathing.  "What about
her?" he asked.  His hand nearly crushed the phone.

"She got caught in a robbery.  Some kid, with an itchy trigger finger
and a habit, decided to take on a jewelry store in the middle of the
day.  I guess he needed a fix bad.  I dunno. It would have been okay,
but some yo-yo decided to be a hero and tackled the kid.  Three people
got hit, and Natalie was one of 'em."

Nick closed his eyes to shut out what was coming next.  Please let her
be okay, he thought.  He felt like his world had come to an end.  Not
Natalie.  Not Natalie...

"She took a bullet in the shoulder, and it's serious, but not fatal."

"She's not dead," Nick breathed in relief.

"No, and she's probably going to be all right, but it's going to take a
while.  She's going into surgery now to repair the damage.  She should
be out in about an hour, then she'll be in recovery for a while.
They'll know the extent of her injuries and the prognosis then.  The
kid is in custody, a clerk is dead, and the hero took one in the
lungs.  He's critical."

"Which hospital?"  Nick asked, looking at the clock, even though he
already knew that sundown wasn't for one hour and forty-two minutes.

"Mercy Faith.  I'm on my way.  I'll keep you posted."

"Thanks, Schank," Nick said, with feeling.

Schanke hung up and Nick stood there with the dial-tone sounding in
his ear.  He seemed unable to focus, or to even move.  Natalie.  He
wanted to be there.  Now.  He was more frightened than he thought
possible.  Somewhere in him, he felt as if he'd been split in two.
Part of him was ripped away in his anguish.  He wouldn't feel whole
again until Natalie woke up and looked in his eyes and said his
name...

                               *****

Natalie walked down the hill to the dusty road skirting the lake.  Her
heart was beating so loudly she thought the whole world could hear it.
She stood in the roadway for a moment uncertain of what to do, holding
the basket in front of her.  It was like being in a play, only nobody
had told her her lines or given her a cue.  She would just have to
make it up as she went.  Taking a deep breath, she began to relax and
started down the road, her basket swinging.  She hummed a little tune
under her breath, and then started to laugh when she realized what she
was singing.

        I have confidence in confidence alone, ...
        Besides which you see I have confidence in me.

Yes, she could just imagine how Maria felt confronting the
Captain.  In her reverie, she didn't see him ride out from under the
leafy trees.

He stopped and watched her with an appreciative smile.  She was
smiling.  Her face shone from within, and she was so beautiful.  Her
hair was a golden halo, backlit by the sun, swirling around her face,
dancing in the light breeze.  He had the oddest feeling that he knew
her.  His horse danced under him impatiently, and he absently stroked
his neck.  And then Natalie saw him.

She stopped and stared at him. He stared back at her with an
expression she couldn't define.  She couldn't believe how good-looking
he was, especially with long hair.  It was cut short in front and long
in back, falling to his shoulders.  The way he looked at her made
Natalie catch her breath, feeling abruptly shy.

He wore leather trousers with some kind of leather boots that were
studded with little metal beads or, well... studs, she guessed.
Leather banding kept them in place.  He wore a simple muslin shirt and
a heavier padded woolen jerkin over it.  A sword hung at his side and
a cape was bunched with the roll tied on behind his saddle.  But the
light moustache and beard were the same as he occasionally sported in
the twentieth century.  She would never have guessed that Nick's style
of beard hadn't changed in 800 years.  Well, she thought, you can take
the knight out of the thirteenth century, but you can't take the
thirteenth century out of the knight.  And that little bit of
familiarity gave her the courage to move.

She stepped forward softly and came to a halt a scant yard away from
him.

Nicolas dismounted gracefully, closing the distance by another foot.  He
smiled, the most heart-stopping smile she had ever seen.
"Mademoiselle," he murmured.  "Je n'avais pas l'intention de vous
faire peur" (I didn't mean to startle you.)

"No, you didn't...that is, I was...," Natalie floundered, and then
stopped.  This wasn't working, she was acting like an idiot.  She took
a breath and started again.  "It's quite all right.  It's my own
fault, after all," she paused.  "I was waiting for you, Nick."

A look of utter bafflement crossed his face.  It was such a familiar
expression.  How often had she seen Nick with that particularly
clueless look.  She couldn't help but smile at him.

"How could you be waiting for me?  I'm a stranger to this area, I'm
simply passing through on my way to Paris..."  It was Nicolas' turn to
stop.  "How do you know my name?"  Pausing, he looked at her again,
studying her intently, and then finally, softly asked, "Do I know
you?"

Natalie grinned.  "Oh yes," she said, "you just don't know it."  She
reached out her hand and touched his cheek gently.  "Oh, Nick, it's so
good to see you."

His own hand covered hers and brought it down where he could examine
her hand, wonderingly.  Impulsively he caught it in both hands and
pressed a kiss into her palm.

A sharp jolt of desire swept through her, and she felt like she would
melt.  The basket fell from her hand, unheeded.

He looked into her eyes.

"Natalie?  Your name is Natalie, isn't it."  It was no longer a
question.  They stood there staring at each other while the breeze
quickened around them, and the trees rustled in chorus.  They might
have stood there forever, but Nicolas' horse nudged him impatiently,
bringing him back to more mundane matters.

Nicolas, laughing, dropped Natalie's hand and turned.  "Oh, all right you
old goat.  Let's get you some water."  And he led his horse to the
lakeside and let him drink.

"I think he's beautiful." Natalie said, watching.  She hadn't been
around horses since she was a teenager.  This one was tall, with a
black coat, a white blaze down his face, and what looked to be an
opinionated personality.  He seemed to go very well with Nick.  But
she would rather look at Nick.  She was fascinated with the shadow
patterns from the tree that vied with sunlight on his face.  It was so
amazing to see him in the sunlight.

Nicolas patted his horse and grinned at her.  "He's a good horse, but
very stubborn, with a mind of his own.  We've spent the entire morning
arguing about whether we were going to Paris or not.  He's feeling
very lazy today and doesn't want to move."

Once watered, he tethered his horse to a bush where he could graze
contentedly, and then Nicolas turned his attention fully on Natalie,
who had been openly staring at him.

He looked younger, yet she knew that the man before her was physically
only a few weeks away from being made immortal.  That wasn't what made
him look younger.  It was the look in his eyes, she realized suddenly.
He wasn't carrying all that guilt around.  Centuries of it had made
his eyes older than time.  But right now they were clear and
beautiful.  While there might be shadows on his soul from his time in
the Crusades, they hadn't weighed him down, not like the things he
would do in the future.  Natalie abruptly banished those thoughts.
She was going to enjoy this day.  Forget about the damned vampire
thingy, she told herself sternly.

And while she thought about Nick, he was thinking about her....

She was beautiful in the simple gown.  He wasn't a connossieur of
women's clothing, but he knew it suited her.

He was baffled by the fact that she was familiar to him.  He knew her.
It seemed he'd always known her.  He didn't understand.  "How is it I
know you, know your name?"  he asked abruptly.  "I've never seen you
before and yet I know you, don't I?  How can this be?"

"Do you trust me, Nick?" she asked stepping closer and looking up at
him.

Unexpectedly in his mind's eye, he saw her in another place, dressed
differently.  Everything he saw was completely foreign to him, yet
strangely familiar.  The image was incredibly clear, and he had the
distinct impression that he trusted her.  She was helping him in some
way.  How, he didn't know, but he knew he trusted her in a way he had
never trusted anyone.

"Yes," he said simply, knowing it was true.

"You've known me for several years.  We've been very good friends.
You've trusted me with your life, and I've trusted you with mine.
We've had to," she paused.  "But I can't tell you why."

"Why not?" he asked, puzzled.

"Because.  It's just the way it is.  It's part of the conditions,"
Natalie said softly.

"Something happened to me today.  I was injured--quite seriously, I
think.  Anyway, suddenly I wasn't there in my world anymore, I was
somewhere else.  I'm not sure where I was, but it was very different
there.  I met a man, at least I think he was a man, but maybe he was
an angel.  I don't know.  Anyway, he told me I would be all right, but
in the meantime he was granting my wish.  And then, somehow I was
here."  She looked away and stared at the sky.  "Nick, all I know is
that I wanted to see you, to spend time with you, and God granted my
wish. The only condition was that I not talk about your life there
because it hasn't happened yet for you.  Only for me."

Nicolas was silent, trying to understand.  His brow wrinkled up as he
concentrated, and he twisted his hands together playing with his
thumb.  Natalie stared, amazed.  She recognized that particular
behavior.  It was what he did anytime he was thinking hard.

Nicolas struggled with what she had said, but the concept of a time
differential, traveling through time, was beyond him.  "I don't
understand.  How can you have had a life with me if I haven't had it
yet?"

"Because I've been brought from that time and place to this one.  God
can do anything, make even the impossible possible." Natalie said.

Nicolas stared in confusion at her, his face a question mark.

She tried a different approach.  "Haven't you ever had a day you
wished you could change?  Just suddenly start fresh and avoid the
mistakes you made?"

He smiled at that, "Yes.  Many times.  More than I can count."

"Well, it's sort of like that.  I wanted a day where we could be
together, unencumbered by all the choices we've made that hold us
apart; and God gave it to me.  He put us together in a place where
*we* have no past, nothing to stand between us.  A day where we can
just be friends and enjoy the moment without any shadows."  She
stopped at the look on his face.  He looked like he was getting a
headache trying to understand.  "Can't you feel that I'm telling you
the truth, even if you don't understand?" she asked.

Nicolas felt slightly dizzy.  What she said made no sense and at the
same time was totally understandable.  He felt as if there were two of
him here, and while part of him was completely confused, the other
part seemed to understand and accept what she was saying without any
problem.

Nicolas closed his eyes, and there were more images in his mind, images
of her.  He was talking to her, listening to her, and arguing with
her.  He saw her in a room with high ceilings and strange
furniture. He knew, suddenly, it was his home.  It was unlike anything
he could imagine, but he *knew* it was his.  There were other
memories.  He was standing in the cold, with strange red and blue
lights flashing around him.  People were bustling about, and *she* was
there.  Then he was in a green room with strange metal tables talking
to Natalie....nothing was familiar, not the places, or the clothes, or
the people--except for her.  Nothing.

Despite that, he knew it was all right.  She was telling the truth,
and peace settled in his heart.  It didn't matter that he didn't
understand or comprehend what he was seeing.  He only needed to know
she was telling the truth--and he knew.  He opened his eyes to find
her watching him, with something akin to fear in her eyes.

"Yes.  I can tell that you are telling the truth, and no, I don't
understand, but it doesn't seem to matter."

She grinned in relief.  A seductive smile crossed her face.  "Then
come and spend this afternoon with me.  I've brought lunch.  You
aren't in a hurry to get to Paris, are you?  It will still be there if
you arrive a day later won't it?"

He laughed.  "Yes, it will still be there."

"Want some lunch?" she asked as she held out her hand.

"Mais oui, cherie," Nicolas said, taking her hand in his.

                               *****

Nick could've sworn the sun decided to change directions and go from
west to east, or at the very least it had simply stopped moving.
Every minute was torture.  But finally the sun set and within
nano-seconds he was out the door.  As much as he wanted to fly, he
took the Caddy instead.  There was too much chance of someone noticing
he had arrived without a visible means of transportation.  He was sure
a lot of people would be waiting to hear about Nat.

The waiting room was chaos.  To make things worse, there had been a
twenty-five car pile-up on the Gardiner Expressway.  It looked like
there had been another one right here in the waiting room.  He found
Schanke sandwiched between a tearfully sobbing woman and a frustrated
man who was using Schanke as his sounding board.  Schanke looked at
Nick like a starving Polish-Italian Catholic looks on Souvlaki.  He
literally leaped out of his chair and met Nick half-way across the
room.

"Man, oh, man. I've never been so glad to see *anybody*.  This place
is nutso.  Let's get outta here, at least for five," Schanke pleaded.

Nick nodded and led the way out of the packed-in pandemonium.  They
walked out into the deepening twilight, and found a bench on the
sidewalk.  Schanke gratefully sank onto it.

"Have you heard anything, yet?"  Nick asked anxiously, pacing.

"Yeah, but not much.  I only heard about five minutes before you
arrived.  Sun's down, and I figured you'd be here any second, so I
waited.  Anyway, they finished surgery about a half hour ago and she's
in recovery.  Guess they had to dig around for some bone splinters or
something and put them back in place.  But nothing vital was hit and
all the pieces are back where they belong.  She's gonna be fine."

Nick felt something inside him ease up just a tiny bit.  "Any idea how
soon I can see her?"

"Hmm, no, probably 'nuther couple of hours, I'd guess, when they get
her into a room."  Schanke watched Nick pace back and forth in front
of him.  "Hey, Nick, she's gonna be okay.  Relax a bit, they'll let
you see her soon.  Sit down and take a load off."

Nick stared at him in frustration.  He'd been trapped in the loft all
afternoon and he wanted to see Natalie NOW.  He felt like going and
whammying every nurse and doctor standing in his way.  Better yet, he
had a real urge to drain someone right now.  The "perp" would be a nice
appetizer.

Schanke watched Nick simmering.  He couldn't blame him.  Must be a
real pain in the butt not to be able to get out until the sun went
down.  But he had better get him calmed down before he let him loose
in that madhouse they called a waiting room.

"C'mon, Nick.  Sit down and let some of that head of steam you're
building up, out.  Spill your guts, okay?"

Nick let out a deep breath and reluctantly sat down.  He leaned over,
letting his arms rest on his legs.  His hands dangled uselessly in
front of him.  He turned his head to find Schanke watching him.
Sometimes he forgot that behind that comic exterior was a guy with a
heart of gold and some really good instincts.  He stared back down at
his hands.

"I can't remember being that scared before," he said in a low voice.
"That she would die, and I wouldn't be able to..." he stopped.  He
couldn't exactly say what he had been thinking.  That he wouldn't be
able to save her life, or maybe even bring her over.

Schanke's hand closed comfortingly over his shoulder.

Nick shuddered and closed his eyes.  He didn't know when it had
happened, but somehow Natalie had come to be the lodestone in his
life.  She represented the mortality he craved, but more, she gave him
friendship and love without any judgement whatsoever on his past.  To
lose her would be to lose his hope, his dreams, and his anchor.
Sometimes he felt as if she was the only thing that kept him from
walking into the sun.  He'd never imagined that his search for
mortality would bring him such a gift.  He knew she hated the pedestal
he placed her on, but he couldn't help it.  She was worth more than
anything.

"Ya know, I feel that way about Myra.  Sometimes I wake up in a cold
sweat thinking about what my life would be like if I didn't have her,"
Schanke said.

"Yeah," Nick murmured in agreement.  It did give him a cold sweat.  Of
course, he thought ironically, he didn't really get any other kind.

"Me and Myra always thought you two belonged together.  Seems like ya
oughta tell her.  She'll be waking up soon, and your being there will
mean more to her than anything.  You should really think about joining
the ranks and get married, Nick.  I know Natalie would say yes in a
heartbeat."

For once Nick didn't have any swift retort to divert Schanke.  He
wished with all his heart that he ....

"I thought I'd find you here," said a familiar voice.  Schanke and
Nick looked up to see the solid bulk of Joe Stonetree standing in
front of them.  "I heard about Natalie and thought I'd come and see
how she was doing.  But I think, maybe, the more critical patient is
right in front on me."

Schanke smiled at his sly humor, and Nick felt his mood lighten.

"Man-oh-man.  It sure is good to see you, Captain," said Schanke
standing and taking his hand.  Nick could only nod in agreement.
Stonetree was a tremendous mountain of strength in times of stress.

"Thanks, Schanke, it's good to see you, too.  I hear you guys are
doing good things over at the 96th.  That right?" Stonetree asked.

"Yeah, we're holding the fort down, Captain," said Nick with a smile,
the first that had made an appearance since he'd heard about Natalie.

"That so?  Well, you better, or my reputation for turning out good
homicide detectives is gonna go down the tubes," Stonetree said
comfortably.  Then he changed the subject.  "So, what's the word on
Natalie?"

"Schanke tells me that she's in recovery and that they expect her to
be okay.  I'm hoping to be able to see her as soon as she's out of
recovery," Nick said bluntly.

Stonetree nodded his head.  "I'm glad to hear it.  Well, let's go tell
'em you are as close as they get to next of kin.  Hospitals seem to
think you have to be a relative or something before they let you in.
Fools," he said placidly.  "I might be able to get you in sooner.
Being a Captain ought to stand for something here, don'tcha think?"

Nick smiled with relief and hope warring on his face.

Stonetree hid his sympathy.  He knew Nick didn't want it.  Nick only
wanted to see Natalie.  Stonetree hoped Nick would finally see for
himself that he loved Natalie.  He'd watched them fall in love when
Nick was working at the 27th precinct.  Funny thing that Nick could be
so blind about that, when he was so smart a detective.  Maybe there
was a silver lining to this miserable shooting after all.  He might
just win the pool on those two.  It was getting to be quite a tidy
sum.

                               *****

Nicolas lay on his back, chewing on a blade of grass, listening to
Natalie talk about her last traumatic experience with a horse.  He
grinned as she described in detail her flying exit from the sorrel's
back.  She had been fourteen and the sorrel had been more determined
than she.  She'd wanted to gallop, and he hadn't.  He'd stopped so
abruptly she'd gone flying over his ears and been lucky to land on
her rump instead of her nose.

Lunch had included not only what was in the basket, but a veritable
feast of stories.  They had talked about the little moments, precious
memories, that defined who they were.

While lunch was long over, the fascination with each other wasn't.
She'd been endlessly curious about growing up in a castle.  He
couldn't figure out why until she had admitted that people didn't grow
up in castles, anymore.  They didn't use swords or crossbows, or grow up
learning how to protect home and hearth against mercenaries and
tyrant's wars.  He couldn't imagine the world she lived in--a place
where wars didn't regularly ravage the countryside, a place where
horses were ridden for fun, not necessity.

When he'd asked how they got around, she'd said he'd never believe it,
so why dig into the gory details.  He'd let it go, but in his mind,
he'd seen their closed carriages without horses that moved
mysteriously and sounded like roaring bears.  It seemed like a very
noisy and cold place.  And yet, that world had produced a woman unlike
anyone he'd ever known.  He found himself liking her more and more.
And it wasn't like he hadn't liked her to start with, either.

Natalie had listened in fascination to stories of learning to use a
sword, how to fight, interspersed with youthful escapades that weren't
so different from the ones she and Richie had gotten into.  She and
Richie had nearly set the house on fire, once.  Nick had nearly burned
down the castle.  Great minds think alike, she thought, so much in
common, despite eight centuries.

She would never have imagined that Nick could laugh and smile so much.
His misdeeds growing up were funny, in fact some were hysterical.  Oh
Nick, she thought, I wish I could help you find that person inside you
who remembers fun things.  Somehow she just knew when she got back,
she'd have to get him past eight centuries of angst so that he could
remember times that made him laugh rather than cringe in remorse.  He
_really_ needed a pair of rose-colored glasses.

Nicolas suddenly sat up and grabbed Natalie's hand.  He leapt to his
feet and pulled her up with him. "Would you like to canter through the
meadow on Thorn?  I promise you, you won't be thrown."

"Thorn?"  Natalie asked, puzzled.  It seemed an odd name for a horse.

"Thorn.  You have no idea what a thorn in the side this horse has
been.  He may be swift, but only when he's in the mood.  I almost
named him Mule."  Nicolas grinned at her.  "Will you come?"

A smile spread across Natalie's face.  She wouldn't miss an
opportunity to share a horse with Nick.  "I'd love to," she said.

She started out riding side-saddle in front of him.  And while it
looked romantic in the movies, it was truly most uncomfortable.
Furthermore, she felt that she would lurch off at the slightest
provocation.  The saddle horn tried to impale her each time she came
down.

"Nick!" she yelled in the direction of his ear as she bounced by,
"This isn't working."

He reined the horse in and they came to a stop.  With her arms around
his neck, trying to hold on for dear life, she found herself nose to
nose with him.  His breath caressed her face, his blue eyes were so
close, and she was distracted.  She was tempted to kiss him, but then
Arthur's words came back to her...

"This is *your wish* Natalie.  But you must understand, it may not
necessarily be Nick's wish...  So what happens here is not scripted,
nor may it be what you expect or want.  It just will be.  Might I
suggest, you just enjoy whatever the day brings.  Live for and in
the moment, Natalie.  Give Nick the opportunity to be who he is..."

"What's wrong?" he asked, disappointment etched on his face.

"I'm being bounced all over the place.  This riding side-saddle
doesn't give me any leverage to hang on with.  I think I'd like to
ride astride, if you don't mind."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, doubtfully.  It wasn't exactly proper, but if
Natalie didn't mind exposing a little leg, he wasn't going to object.
He helped her dismount and then with easy grace leaped from the
saddle.

"Are you sure?" he asked

"Positive.  Now help me up," Natalie demanded.

He cupped his hands for her foot and tossed her up into the saddle,
then stopped to admire the slender leg on view.

Natalie looked down and saw where his eyes were and laughed.  His look
was positively lecherous.  "C'mon, Nick, stop staring and get up here.
Let's go for a gallop."

With a smile, he mounted behind her and took the reins in one hand,
the other snaked around her waist holding her securely.  She was
right, he thought, it *was* better.  It was magic.  They rode as one.
Her hair streamed into his face, her laughter slid back to surround
him, encompass him.  Her perfume seemed to seep into his every pore.
The sun bathed them in a golden, buttery light as they forged through
meadows topped with a sea of flowers and then plunged into cool
forest glades dappled with light, where moss and lichen softened the
sounds of their thundering passage.

They threaded their way through meadows and stands of trees that
surrounded the small lake with glorious carefree abandon.  But
eventually Thorn slowed and the gallop became a canter that slowed to
a walk.  Natalie leaned against Nicolas and companionable silence
enveloped them.  His arm tightened against her, holding her closer.
He inhaled her fragrance while she enjoyed the feel of his arms around
her.  His strength supported her as she leaned back, and she closed
her eyes in sheer happiness when he pressed his cheek against hers.
Only when the horse stopped to drink from a stream did they waken from
the dream.  Nicolas dismounted and helped Natalie down.  Slowly they
meandered back towards where they had started.

"Natalie?"

"Yes."

"If you were seriously injured before you came here...are you dead?
Are you an angel?" Nicolas asked so quietly that Natalie almost didn't
hear it.

She stopped to gently touch the long needles of a pine tree, then
looked up at him.  "No, I'm not dead.  I'm not an angel.  I'm not even
dying.  I was in a store when a robbery occurred.  I was shot."

"With an arrow?"

"No.  Arrows are no longer the weapon of choice.  Something much more
deadly, I'm afraid.  I was hit in the shoulder."  She frowned suddenly,
concentrating, the medical doctor in her kicking into gear.  "At least
I think it was the shoulder.  It happened so fast.  Anyway, I'm going
to wake up soon, and it's going to hurt like hell, but I will get
better.  Our medical knowledge is very good.  We can save people from
injuries that they would die from here in your world.  Besides, the
angel who brought me here told me I would recover."

Nicolas let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Natalie reached down and plucked a large red flower.  Her hand touched
it lightly, gently.  Then she looked up at Nick and said with
conviction, "And when I wake up, you'll be there sitting beside my bed."

Urgently he asked, "What is our relationship, Natalie?"

She hesitated.

"Natalie?"

Tears sparkled in her eyes, and she looked away, but Nicolas saw them
anyway.  He reached out and put a hand under her chin and gently
turned her to face him.  He wiped the tears from her cheek with a soft
touch.

"We're friends," she said finally, quietly.  "Just friends."

"Why doesn't it feel that way, then?" Nicolas asked in a low intense
voice.  "Why would you want to see me so badly that God would grant
you this wish if we were *just* friends?  Pourquoi je resents ce que
je resents?"  (Why do I feel the way *I* feel?)

Natalie couldn't meet his eyes.

"Cherie?"

"Because we would be more than friends, if things were different.  But
they aren't and I don't know that they ever will be.  But it's not for
a lack of trying."

He took her hand and held it.  "What stands between us that cannot be
overcome?  Do you belong to another?  Do I?"

"No.  Yes.  Oh...I don't know.  I can't answer this.  Nick, you have
to make choices in your life that I cannot change or influence.  I
can't change that.  I don't want to change it, because then we won't
meet.  The only place where things can change, is from where we are
both together.  And so far, we haven't been able to do that.  As much
as I'd like to change the past, it would defeat any chance we have for
a future.  So as it stands,... we're just friends."

"Not lovers...?"

"No."

He looked down at the hand he was holding, and slowly brought it to
his lips and pressed a sweet, tender kiss into the palm.  Holding her
hand still, he gathered the horse's reins in the other and they began
to walk through the meadow under a sky streaked with brilliant oranges
and reds and pinks and blues and purples.  The golden-edged clouds
were pierced in places by rays of pure golden sunlight as the sun
began to set.

They walked silently hand in hand back to where they had started,
under a sunset painted to match the intensity of their mood.

                               *****

She lay in the semi-darkened room.  Monitors recorded every breathe,
every heartbeat.  Nick slouched in the chair beside her, listened to
her heartbeat and her breathing with an intensity of hope and fear
that no machine could touch.

Stonetree had been as good as his word, and if he hadn't had enough
clout, they'd run into Cohen inside.  Her added emphasis had persuaded
reluctant administrators to let Nick in.  And so he sat there,
waiting.  Waiting, watching, and hoping.  Everyone said she was going
to be fine.  Everyone said.  But if she wasn't...

He agonized over what he would do if her heart should falter, fail,
and stop.  He didn't know.  Would he bring her over to prolong her
life, or let her go.  He really didn't know.  It was a decision he
wouldn't, couldn't make until he was faced with the reality of such a
moment.

She loved life, she deserved a life that was rich and fulfilling,
filled with a husband and children, with the heritage that mortality
gave.  She deserved to live, to love, to grow, and to age.  And
finally, to find release from the cares of this life and go back to
God.  Something he was denied because of his choice.  His stupid,
stupid choice.  He'd just had to know.  Well, he knew, didn't he.  He
knew what it was to live forever and have it be less than living, to
be unable to truly love, to be trapped in hell--forever.  He would
give anything for the chance to grow old and find release--to love, to
be loved.  Anything.  And so he clung to her desperately.  For that
hope.  That chance.

He often thought of how he stood in her way.  Just his being there was
preventing her from finding those things.  He knew she loved him.  She
might not remember that he'd told her he loved her, but nevertheless,
he knew that she was fully aware he loved her.  It was in his eyes.
All she had to do was look.  And he knew she'd looked.  They'd shared
so many moments where their eyes had said everything that they
couldn't speak out loud.  And she had the incredible grace and wisdom
to say nothing.  She knew there was no hope without a cure.  So if
they said nothing, they could pretend they were just friends.  *Just
friends!* How he hated that.  She was *everything*.

If he had any courage, if he truly loved her, he ought to be able to
sacrifice for her.  He should leave and let her get on with her life
and get over him, let her forget about those who lived by night,
and be free.  But he didn't have that kind of courage.  She offered
him the only hope he had.  And so he took and took and took, without
giving back, it seemed.  Whether you took their blood or took their
heart, and hope, and love, there was not much difference, you still
took their life away.  You slowly emptied their soul in your need.
Because he needed her so much, he was slowly taking her life away.  He
closed his eyes as he leaned back in the chair and threw his arm
across his face, as if to hide from that dreadful realization.

If he took her life and gave her the night, would she love him or hate
him?  Stay with him or leave him?  He didn't think he could bear it if
she left him.  All he knew was that he loved her and he wanted her to
come back.  Open your eyes, Natalie, he pleaded silently.  Come back
to me.  God, he prayed fervently, please bring her back.  Don't let
her die.  Please.  For Natalie, he would even talk to God.  He would
get on his knees and beg.  He was willing to give up his life for
hers....

He sat up abruptly, aware that he was no longer alone.  LaCroix stood
in the shadows, a deeper shadow in the shadows.

"Nicholas..."

"Why are you here, LaCroix?"  Nick asked harshly to cover his fear.

"I felt your pain," he said silkily.  "I thought you might need some
support in your hour of trouble and sorrow.  A shoulder to cry on, as
it were..."  A tiny curve slid across his lips.  The barest hint of a
smile.

"Well, I don't."

"Oh, really, Nicholas.  Don't you think you should give up this
charade?  This play-acting at mortal games?  All you do is endanger
them.  Endanger yourself.  You put us all at risk because of your
silly quest.  You can't be mortal.  She can't make you mortal.  You
are what your are.  What *I* made you."

Nick turned his head away, as if to ward off the onslaught.

"If you'd stop trying to play at living in their world, you wouldn't
tear yourself apart when one of them gets hurt."

"Shut up, LaCroix,"  Nick said evenly, in a tight controlled voice.

"They get hurt, Nicholas.  That's part of the *human* condition.  They
get hurt and they die.  And when you get all wound up over them, you
suffer--suffer needlessly.  Give it UP.  Try to get some
perspective. You are immortal.  *They* are not.  They'll eventually
want what you can't give, demand more, demand change.  And if you
don't give it to them, they'll only leave you.  Or die.  Haven't you
learned that, yet?"

Moving too fast for human eyes, Nick was suddenly inches from LaCroix,
his hand on LaCroix' throat.

"I *said* shut up.  We've had this conversation before, and nothing
has changed.  I won't live like that, anymore.  I will not live with an
empty, cold heart.  I can't live without feeling.  I can't.  Caring
for others is part of living.  I'd rather be living and hurting than
cold and empty--like you," Nick hissed, infuriated.

A snarl crossed LaCroix' face as he prised Nick's hand off his neck,
and held it easily in his grip, despite Nick's struggle to free it.

"What you *are* is pathetic.  You aren't living.  You are merely
castigating yourself.  I find your behavior masochistic and obscene.
If you're not suffering, you aren't happy!  Get a whip and flog
yourself; it would be just as satisfying."

Angrily he threw Nick back into his chair.  He landed with a most
satisfactory thud, LaCroix thought.

"Why don't you go get some psychiatric help from your mortal pets.
Maybe they can help you find a way to release this senseless, wasteful
guilt and accept who you are, if not what you are."

LaCroix looked over at Natalie.  An unpleasant smile crossed his face.
"If she dies, will you bring her over?  Or will you let her die
because of your silly misplaced guilt?  You really ought to bring her
over, Nicholas, just so she can fully experience your ridiculous
guilt!"  He quirked an eyebrow.  "In fact, I can't think of a faster
way to make her realize what a pathetic fool you are.  She'd probably
leave you in the dust so fast your head would spin."

"Leave her out of this!" Nick snarled.

"You know that there is only one way this can end.  She will want more
than you can give her...sooner or later.  Be done with it.  Finish it,
Nicolas; take her and be done with it.  She'll die happy."

"No," Nick whispered.

"If you let this go on, she'll just keep wanting more--more than you
can give.  It will end just like it did with that pathetic
creature... I believe James was his name, wasn't it?"  LaCroix watched
Nick's eyes fill with pain.  "I thought so.  Do you really think it
can ever end any differently with mortals?"  he asked.  "I wish you
would grow up, Nicholas.  This death wish of yours has become extremely
annoying."  He stared at Nick, their wills clashing.  Nick looked
away.  He snorted and, in a puff of air, vanished.

Nick stared at the space where LaCroix had been for a long time,
remembering....


                         ---1741, England---

Nick leaned back in the chair observing the busy room, feeling rather
smug and pleased with himself.  It was his.  Well half of it, he
amended, thinking momentarily of his absent partner.  Though it wasn't
large, it was still an excellent tavern.  He'd enjoyed fixing it up
and improving the cellars, and it was showing.  The Red Dragon was
doing very well indeed.

A smile played across his lips as he watched the serving wenches going
from table to table.  Business was excellent.  Not that he needed the
money, rather it was the diversion.  Immortality was sometimes really
very boring.

James Carlyle entered the tavern in a gust of wind and slamming doors.
Candles flickered and a few customers looked up with annoyance at the
blast of cold February air.

He threaded his way through the tables to where Nick sat in the back
and flung himself down with a sigh.  Nick raised an eyebrow at the
trail of water dripping in his wake, but said nothing.

"Nicholas!  How I've missed you.  The country was an absolute bore
without you.  You should really have come," James said exuberantly.

"Really?"  Nick drawled lazily.

"Oh, absolutely.  I don't know how you do it, old chap, but you make
everything so much more interesting!"  James said throwing his gloves
and hat on the table.

"You forget, James, we now own this enchanting establishment.  Someone
must manage it."

"Devil a bit!" he said cheerfully.  "Hire someone to run it for us.
There are other fish to fry."

Nick laughed.  It was so typical of James to start something and leave
Nick to finish it.

James twisted in his seat and signaled the barmaid for his usual.  He
grinned at Nick with an air about him that could only be described as
anticipation.

Nick mentally rolled his eyes.  It was obvious he was about to be
dragged into another of James' wild schemes.

James was the son of a wealthy merchant with too much time on his
hands.  He was always looking for some new adventure to get involved
in.  No, thought Nick wryly, make that more like misadventure.

Nick had met him when his father had purchased an estate from Nick;
an estate that Nick had bought 70 years ago as an investment.  It
always amazed him how easy it was to make money when you had eternity
to wait for the price to go up.

Jonathan Carlyle had taken a liking to Nick; he'd liked his stability
and head for business, and promptly introduced him to his son in the
hopes he would steady him.  Nick didn't disabuse him because he liked
James.  Nevertheless, he found it amusing that someone thought he was
a stabilizing factor.

Unexpectedly, he had really liked James.  He was so carefree and ready
to try anything for a lark.  While Nick, on the other hand, had been
feeling weighed down by his guilt.  He couldn't help but be buoyed up
by James' sheer exuberance.  Over the past decades, he had started
feeding only off the criminal element, the guilty.  He wasn't sure
why, but somehow, somewhere he'd begun to feel that the price of his
immortality was becoming too high--too many innocent lives cut short.
James' penchant for light-hearted nonsense had helped Nick to put
things in perspective.  Life had definitely been more fun since he met
James.

LaCroix, to put it mildly, was really peeved about it and had left him
to his own devices about six months ago when Nick and James bought the
tavern.  Nick had been enjoying the unaccustomed freedom; for the
first time in a long time he was happy.  The Carlyles had made him
feel like he belonged, that he was normal.  And James made him
feel...alive.

And to his surprise, he really did have a head for business.  He loved
running this tavern, all the little daily mundane tasks.  He loved
every one of them.

"What fish would those be?" Nick asked, curiosity getting the better
of him as the barmaid plopped down a foaming mug of ale in front of
James.

"Nickerson," James said succinctly.  "He's got a two-year old colt.
The most wonderful paces.  With that colt, I could race Trelawny again,
and I just know I could beat him this time!"  He leaned closer to Nick
and whispered confidentially.  "The only trouble is, I'm a little
short of the ready."

"And you want me to loan you the blunt,"  Nick supplied, unsurprised.

James drank deeply from his mug and wiped his lips with his coat
sleeve. "Oh, only for the quarter.  Or sooner, if I can arrange a race
before then," he said confidently.

"James!  I would let the earth swallow me up before I would loan you
money for a racing horse.  You truly are the worst judge of horseflesh
I've ever met,"  Nick said with a smile.

"Oh no, Manvale is much worse, I assure you!"  James parried
skillfully.  "But, truly, Wilson was with me and says I couldn't fail.
And you know he is an excellent judge.  Just look at that matched pair
of grays he has!"

"No," Nick reiterated with a smile.  "It's a gamble you are unlikely
to win.  Besides, all of our money is invested in the tavern and the
shipping deal.  Why don't you wait until the ship returns and we can
sell the merchandise.  It should only be another week or two..."

"By then it will be too late!" James cut in petulantly, a thundercloud
appearing on his sunny face.  "If it's not your idea, then it's not
any good, isn't that right?"

Surprised, Nick looked at him.  "Of course not..."

"Then help me get the colt before Trelawney hears about it.  Nickerson
is desperate to sell to cover his gaming debts.  It's got to be now!"
he said impatiently, refusing to listen.

"James..." Nick started again, but it was too late.  In a fit of
frustration James threw down his mug and stood up and stared down icily
at Nick.  Bits of froth generously splattered themselves on James, the
table and Nick.

"I thought you were my friend.  It's not like you don't have the
ready.  I know you can easily spare the cash.  You just have to be the
one who has the idea.  I know it!  Well, this time you're wrong.  This
horse will pay off.  It's not a gamble.  It's a sure thing.  You'll
see!"

And in a swirl of his cape he was stalking out of the tavern before
Nick could react.

On the other hand, Nick thought grimly wiping the froth from his face
as he watched him go, sometimes he forgot how much of an idiot James
could be.  Especially when he got some hare-brained idea in his head.
Then there was no talking sense to him and no reasoning with him.
When he got like this, he would do any stupid thing to get his way,
and everybody else ended up paying...

                               ---+---

Natalie stirred restlessly, disrupting Nick's train of thought,
bringing him back to the present.

Anxiously he reached over and took Natalie's hand in his.  He held it
in his cold hand, treasuring the warmth of it.  Treasuring Natalie
and her selflessness, love and compassion.

Nick leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.  A tear slid
unchecked down his cheek.  He struggled for composure.  It wasn't like
that with Natalie.  It wasn't.  She didn't take; she gave, and gave,
and gave.  He wiped away the tear with the palm of his hand.

He sat there in the darkened room, kept company only by a battery of
monitors, holding her hand, waiting for her to come back to him with
all the hope in his tattered soul.

                               *****

Arthur had been right, Natalie thought as she sat on a rocky
outcropping staring into the lake.  She slowly dipped her toes in and
then lifted them out, watching the widening rings in the lake's glassy
surface.  Nick had always had a mind of his own.  Her enchanted mood
had been broken by his intense need to know about their relationship.
Reality had intruded.

She supposed she should be doing something useful, but she didn't feel
like it.  Nick was off gathering wood or something.  Instead she was
sitting her with her shoes off, making circles in the lake with her
toes.  She sighed.  She should have known that all that moody
intensity hadn't come along just because he was a vampire.  He was a
moody, intense person to start with.  Damn.  Arthur was right.  Nick
was still who he was.  He just hadn't got around to... she searched
for a word...amplifying it yet.  Yeah, that was a good word.  Amplify.

She was so preoccupied that she didn't hear Nick come up and squat
down beside her.  He took in her look of intense concentration, but
his gaze lingered on her bare legs and feet.  A look of pure
admiration crossed his face.

"Nat?"

She jumped at the oh-so-familiar-nick-name (no pun intended), and
turned her head to look at him.  She didn't think he even knew what he
had said.  It was eerie when he did that, because she knew that was
Nick Knight talking to her and not Nicolas de Brabant.

"Hmmm?"

"There is a family I know, about an hour's ride from here.  I would
feel better if I could take you there.  They will gladly take us in
for the night."

"Wha..  Oh.  No.  Really.  It's not necessary," Natalie said hastily.
She really didn't want to intrude on anyone else, or have anyone
intrude on this interlude.  Besides, what would happen in the morning
when she just went poof?  No, this was definitely not a good idea.

"But it isn't right for a woman like you to be alone with a ... "

"...a man like you all night long," Natalie finished for him.  "It's
okay, Nick.  Really.  Where and when I come from, things are very
different than they are here."  She smiled at him.  She wanted to reach
out and smooth the worried look on his face, but she didn't dare.
"Besides, I have never seen a night such as this.  It is so
beautiful," she said as she looked up at the deepening twilight where
stars were beginning to crowd the skies.  "...and I like camping out."

Nicolas still looked a little worried.  "Are you sure?" he asked
hesitantly.

"Yes.  I'm sure."  But then it occurred to her that maybe he wasn't
comfortable with spending a night with her.  "Nick?"

He looked at her.

"If you don't feel comfortable about this, you don't have to stay.
You can go to your friends..."

"And leave you here alone?"  Nicolas asked, almost angrily.  "What kind
of man do you think I am?

"I think you are a man faced with a situation outside any he has ever
dealt with.  And maybe I'm asking too much,"  Natalie said honestly,
looking deep into his eyes.

Blue eyes met blue eyes and locked.  A cricket's syncopation marked
the moments that they stared at each other.

"I will not leave you," Nicolas said quietly.  "If God can grant such
wishes as this, then we will not waste one moment of it.  Such gifts
are not to be taken lightly."

He stood and held out his hand to her.  Looking up at him, Natalie
felt her heart begin to pound in her chest so loudly that she was sure
he could hear it.  A slow smile crossed his face at what he read in
her eyes.

Natalie put on her shoes and took his hand, letting him pull her to
her feet.

"Let's go see if we can find anything else in that basket to eat."
Nicolas murmured.

"Ah, yes," said Natalie with a smile.  "Food."

The basket was bottomless, for it yielded up a feast.  Fruit, bread,
meat, tarts, and honey mead--none of which had been there at lunch.
Nicolas had been dumbfounded as he watched her pulling more and more
food out of it.  Natalie peered into the basket.  It really had looked
empty, but as soon as she opened it up, it had suddenly been full
again.

She thought she heard him mutter "magic" under his breath, but she
wasn't sure.  She just might have to agree to that, even if she could
come up with some more scientific explanations--like
teletransportation.  *Beam me up Scotty,* she thought with a smile.
Natalie wondered if she could get Arthur to stock her fridge for her
when she got home.  She hated grocery shopping.  It would really make
life so much easier....

In companionable silence, they spread out the food.  It was such a
simple pleasure to sit and share a meal with Nick.  It was, after all,
something she had never done before today, really.  Oh, they'd gone out
to restaurants, she'd cooked at the loft, but it always came down to
Natalie eating, and Nick taking a taste and making faces and then
retreating to drinking chilled cow.  But now for the second time in
hours, they were sharing food and the simple conversation that went
with it.  Natalie could have cried at the emotion such a small thing
as sharing a meal brought.

Natalie couldn't help laughing as NicK finished off the grapes one by
one, by tossing them into the air and catching them in his mouth.  And
she mentally dismissed the calories as she ate her third tart.  This
was not a time to worry about cholesterol--not in the middle of a
magical wish.

Dinner had returned them to a more mundane level.  And Natalie finally
got up her courage as they were finishing to ask what she had wanted
to ask all day.

"Tell me about the Crusades, Nick," she asked, simply.

He had looked at her and then looked away.  She watched the way the
fire cast shadows and highlights across his implacable face.  He poked
at the fire and she thought that he was not going to answer.

"It was hot and sweaty, and the air was filled with the stench of
death," he said finally.  "We were supposed to have gone there to free
the Holy Land from the Infidel.  But I think we were as corrupt and
greedy as any follower of Islam.  More so, in fact.  They called us
'nasrani dogs.'  And we were.  We were greedy, cruel, and vicious.
There wasn't much of God or righteousness or justice in the Crusades
at all."

He closed his eyes as if to shut out whatever memories were in front
of him.  "I didn't choose to go.  I was sent.  It was my penance.  I'd
been accused of murder, but in the long months and years I spent in
the Holy Land, I came to realize that Lord Carrick must have committed
the murder.  I served Lord Carrick before I went to the Holy Land.
We had gone to Wales to aid in converting the people to Christianity.
I met a woman there; her name was Gwyneth, and her religion was an old
religion."

He looked at Natalie and a grimace crossed his features.  The pain in
his eyes was palpable.  "I loved her.  She was so alive and beautiful,
and I loved her.  Lord Carrick warned me against having anything to do
with her.  She was, in his eyes, a heathen.  She was a ... barrier to
his plans, and I believe he murdered her.  She told me her life would
soon be over.  She told me that her fortune had been cast and we would
not have a life together, but I did not believe her.  But she told the
truth, for she was murdered.  I don't know why, but that morning I
woke early and I knew she was in trouble.  I went looking for her and
I found her lying there in her blood.  I was too late."

The fire snapped suddenly, accenting his narrative.  Natalie waited
silently.

"I was accused of the murder and would have stood trial, but Lord
Carrick gained intercession for me.  I wanted to stay and prove my
innocence, but he prevailed against me.  The price of my freedom was
that I serve in the Holy Crusade of God and free His city from the
Infidel."

"She played the harp," Nicolas added inconsequentially.  He was silent
for a time staring blankly into the fire's heart.

Natalie thought about what he said and silently put it together with
what had happened not so long ago when that harp had surfaced.
Finally, she began to understand his behavior.  *Oh Nick,* she
thought.  I'm so sorry...

"Whatever illusions I had were quickly destroyed in the Holy Land.
Men made and lost fortunes there.  Men died foolishly and uselessly.
And if we went to free the Holy Land, we were lying.  If God had sent
us, we would have suceeded.  But I think God had little to do with it.
We went and stained the land with our blood, and the blood of anyone
that got in our way.  We lost more than we gained, because we gave it
all back."

Natalie watched the pain of it flood his face.

"I nearly died there.  Under the Moorish sun, I almost lost my life.
I still remember the feeling of that Saracen blade slicing through me.
I will never forget lying there, feeling the blood spilling out of me,
thinking I was dying.  I lost whatever illusions I had left that
day," he concluded so quietly that she had to strain to hear it.  He
looked at Natalie, and the weight of it nearly broke her heart.

For a long time only the fire's crackling could be heard.

Finally Natalie spoke.  "You may have lost your illusions, but you
have never lost your faith.  More than anyone I know, you believe that
there is hope, there is possibility--even when no one else believes,
even when there is no hope left.  That is what defines you and *that*
is what is important.  Life strips away our illusions, but it can
never take away our faith.  It certainly has never taken yours."

Nicolas looked at her with awe.

"Qui etes vous, Natalie Lambert, pour lire si bien dans mes pensees?"
(Who are you, Natalie Lambert, that you know my very soul?)

                               *****

The doctor entering the room stopped momentarily, touched at the
tableau before him.  Detective Knight had dozed off in his chair, but
his hand still held the patient's hand tenderly.  Sometimes he forgot
that for each patient, there were loved ones who were injured just as
much as those that were actually the victims.

He moved forward quietly, but Knight's eyes flew open and he sat up
completely alert.  He even looked dangerous for a second before he had
fully assessed the situation.

Now there, thought the doctor admiringly, is someone I'd want watching
over me if I was in trouble.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Doctor Passey said quietly.  "I'm just
going to check Dr. Lambert's condition."

"I don't mind," Nick said and then fell silent.  Nick moved out of the
doctor's way while he checked Natalie's heart and her blood pressure
and monitored her pulse.  Nick watched curiously while he opened her
eye and directed a light into it.

"How is she?"  Nick asked anxiously as Passey began to write on the
clipboard that had been hanging from the end of her bed.

Dr. Passey stopped writing, looked up and smiled reassuringly at Nick.
"She's doing fine.  All of her vital signs are good and the anesthesia
has just about worn off.  In fact, she should be waking up soon."

Nick let out a sigh of relief.

The doctor smiled slightly as he finished his notes.  Then he passed a
professional eye over Nick.  He looked like he could use a good eight
hours of sleep himself.  He was far too pale.  Worry did that to
people, Dr. Passey thought.  Looking at Nick, it was obvious to him
that this detective was very much in love.  Perhaps it would help to
give him some details.  He was, after all, a homicide detective, and
very much more aware than the general public what damage bullet wounds
could do.

"Detective?"  he said, leaning back against the wall and folding his
arms across his body.

"Yes."  Nick looked at him hopefully.

"In case no one has told you, the bullet made a relatively clean pass
through her shoulder.  She was very lucky.  It did chip her collar
bone and we had to chase a few fragments down, but she should recover
fully," Dr. Passey said.  "She is very lucky.  There should be no
loss of functionality.  While it will take some time to recover, I
would say that, except for the scar, within two months she won't even
notice it anymore.  However, she's probably going to need a lot of
help recovering psychologically.  But you already know that, and I
suspect that your presence will be a big help in that area."

Nick smiled, albeit a little wanly, but he smiled.  "Thank you,
Doctor," he said simply.  There was really nothing more to say.  They
exchanged a look that said a lot more about it than any words could.
Dr. Passey nodded and left the room.

Schanke stuck his head in only moments later.

"Hssst!  Yo, Nick!"  he whispered dramatically.  "What's the scoop?"

Nick tried to keep from laughing as Schanke slid melodramatically into
the room.

"I know, I know.  I'm not s'posed to be here, but I just saw the
doctor leaving and wondered what he said."

Schanke tiptoed over to the bed and looked at Natalie as Nick answered
him.  "He says she's going to be fine, Schank.  Physically, anyway.
There won't be any impairment and she probably won't even know it
happened after a couple of months."

"Man, oh, man.  I would just be sweating to death if it was Myra lying
there.  I don't care what they say, until you can talk to them, ya
just don't know.  Know what I mean?"  Schanke said.

Nick joined him at the bedside and looked down at Natalie.  "Yeah.  I
know exactly what you mean."

Schanke gave him a sympathetic look.

"Doctor Passey said she would be waking up soon, and it can't be too
soon for me," Nick continued, still staring at Natalie.  He watched
as she breathed in and out, willing her to wake up.  He knew it
wouldn't be for a little while yet because her heart rate hadn't
started to speed up.  "Soon...." he repeated.

"Well, I'll spread the word.  But I gotta go.  Myra'll skin me alive
if I don't get home soon.  She gets really nervous when she hears that
anybody has been shot.  Then she wants to get me home so she can check
and make sure I haven't been perforated, too."  Schanke grinned and
bounced a bit.  "I *love* that part!"

Nick laughed at the lecherous look Schanke had taken on.  "Thanks for
everything, Schank.  I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Schanke agreed.  He got to the door and stopped.  Then he
turned and gave Nick a look.  "You two ought to get married.
Seriously.  I mean it."

"Schanke.  Go home!"  Nick said, making shooing motions, and avoiding
the question.

Schanke shook his head.  Idiot, he thought affectionately.  He waved
and disappeared down the hall.  He knew when to give up with Nick.

Nick stood there staring at the doorway.  "I wish we could get
married, too," he said softly after a very, very, long time.

He turned and walked back to Natalie's side.  Her breathing was
lighter.  She was definitely coming out of the anesthesia.

He sat down once more, his thoughts darkening.  It was true, what he'd
told LaCroix.  He couldn't live with a cold heart anymore.  But he
also knew what LaCroix had said was true, too.  Mortals have only so
long to accomplish what they want to in this life.  Eventually they
need a relationship to be more.  The day was coming when Natalie would
no longer be content with what they had.  Nor would he.  He hadn't
meant for this to happen, this love between them.  It just had.

It scared him.  Relationships with mortals always ended badly, at
least in his case.  Whether it was simple friendship, or love, he
always screwed it up.  He thought of Alyssa, and immediately shied
away.  He couldn't deal with that right now.  He couldn't.  But his
traitorous thoughts then returned to James, and he couldn't stop them;
they tumbled about him, blocking out the room...

                         ---1741, England---

Nick entered the Red Dragon and dropped the satchel on the table.  He
glanced out the window and abruptly went and pulled the shutters.  The
sun would be up soon; he had cut it a little close.  As much as he
hated it, he would be stuck here for the day.  They were expecting a
shipment of wine and ale, which he needed to pay for.  It was also pay
day for his staff.

He contemplated hiring someone to take care of such tasks, but he
didn't want to raise any questions, so instead he snuck in before the
sun rose.  Then, when his employees arrived, he would act like he had
got there just a short while before they had.  He sighed.  It would
really have been helpful if James would have done it.  But James
hadn't been seen since their one-sided argument three days ago.
Hopefully he'd get over his tantrum soon.  Nick really did like James,
and hated to be at odds with him.  Only problem was it was so damned
easy to be at odds with him.  When James didn't get his way, he took it
out on the nearest person, which lately always seemed to be Nick.

Nick picked up his satchel and headed for the office tucked away at
the back.  He never got there.  The door slammed open behind him
bringing the first rays of day with it.  He turned to find James in
the doorway with an angry look on his face and a pistol in his right
hand.

"James?"  Nick asked, uncertainly.  He had never seen him quite like
this.

"Nicholas."  His voice was cold, empty of any recognizable emotion.
"I suggest you give me the satchel.  Now!"  He raised the pistol and
leveled it at Nick.

"What are you doing, James?"

"Just taking some of the money that is mine, of course," he said with
a sneer.

It was obvious to Nick that he had been drinking, and heavily.

"This is ridiculous," Nick said flatly.  "You've been drinking.  All
night I'd guess."

"What do you care?  You are not my friend.  All you want to do is
control me, keep me in my place.  Just like my father," he hissed.
Motioning with the pistol he reiterated, "Give me the money."

"This money is for the wine shipment today--not to mention our staff's
payroll.  Will you take away the money our staff has earned by their
honest labours?"

"You've got more.  Plenty more.  Damn you!  Give it to me!"

"James, don't be foolish," Nick pleaded as he slowly moved across the
room towards him.  He stopped short of the pool of early morning
sunlight invading the room.

"Bring it here!" James demanded.

"No.  If you are going to be a thief, come and take it...like a
thief," Nick said coldly.  He dumped the satchel on the table nearest
him and stepped back.

James swore and moved into the room unsteadily.  "Back away, Nicholas.
Just move away from the money."

Nick moved back, waiting for his moment.  All he had to do was bring
him down and knock him out and then he could tie him up until he
sobered up, he thought grimly.  Maybe then he could talk some sense
into him.

James leaned over for the satchel and Nick leapt forward, faster than
James could see, grabbing his right arm.  They went crashing down in a
tangle of chairs and tables.  James was screaming at him, thrashing
about, but he was no match for Nick's strength.  Nick subdued him
easily, pinning him to the floor when the sun suddenly flooded the
room through the open door.  The sun slid across Nick's back as it
came out from behind the clouds, burning him.  He flinched
involuntarily and flung himself back out of the way, smoking around
the edges.

It was all the chance James needed.  Sobbing and screaming, he fired
his pistol blindly in Nick's direction.  Bad luck let the bullet's aim
be true.  It plowed right into Nick's heart, temporarily stunning him.

James pulled himself up, frightened at what he'd done.  He'd killed
Nicholas.  He'd killed his best friend.  He couldn't think what to do.
Then his eyes fell on the satchel and he remembered why he'd come.  He
grabbed the satchel and turned to make his escape, when the low growl
stopped him.

James whirled around to see a pair of glowing red eyes staring at him
out of Nick's face.  The blood drained from his face at the snarl that
revealed Nick's fangs.  Nick pulled himself up as James stood there
rooted to the earth with fear.

"Wha.. what are you?" he gasped.

Nick, momentarily moving on instincts brought out by the attack,
struggled for control.  The red emptied from his eyes at last, and his
fangs disappeared.

"James...," he said quietly, moving forward. "I won't hurt you."

But it was too much for James.  He screamed and leaped backwards,
crashing into a chair, going down in a heap.

The sudden silence frightened Nick.  He rushed to his side and fell
hard to his knees crying out his name, "JAMES!"

But only silence answered.  There wasn't even a heartbeat left.  His
neck was turned at an awkward angle, attesting to the fact that he had
broken his neck.  He had died instantly in the fall.

Dust motes danced in the cheerful sunlight streaming through the
doorway of The Red Dragon, while Nick held James in his arms and let
the bloody tears fall unchecked.

                               ---+---

For those of you who have been anxiously waiting to get back to Nicolas
and Natalie, here we are at last...

Thanks to everybody who has written, commenting on the story.  I haven't
been able to get back to everybody due to the demands of my RL job
right now.  But I've appreciated every note.


Somewhere.... (Part 12)
by Dorothy Elggren


Nick shook his head, clearing it.  He'd often wondered what would have
happened if he would just have given James the money for the horse in
the first place. But it didn't do any good.  You couldn't change what
was.  James had died because he wanted more than Nick had been willing
to give.  He'd died because of what Nick was.

He looked over at Natalie.  Maybe he should leave before they reached
the point of no return.  He closed his eyes in anguish.  That was the
biggest lie of all.  He couldn't leave her.  He couldn't give her
anything but pain, but he couldn't leave her.  She was his only hope.
He could no more leave her than he could walk into the sunrise...

                               *****

"Who are you, Natalie Lambert, that you know my very soul?"

They stared at each other.  Nicolas' gaze seemed to penetrate to her
very heart.  The air between them was suddenly so thick you could cut
it with a knife.

Natalie swallowed.  "I don't know, Nick.  I hope I'm your best friend.
I know that you are mine.  Without you, I only know my life is empty."

Nicolas reached out slowly and touched her cheek with his hand.  The
gentle touch turned into a caress.  Natalie closed her eyes at his
touch and shivered.  When she opened them his so very blue eyes were
much, much closer than before.  She felt like she would be lost in
them.  Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought it would leap
out of her chest.  The touch of his hand sent shock waves through her
body.

She glanced upward--away, unable to cope with her overloading
feelings, and was momentarily enthralled by the sight.  The blazing
stars were so thick in the sky, they lit up the world.  This magical
world she shared with Nick...

"The stars....I've never seen so many before.  They're so
beautiful...," Natalie gasped out in shock.

Nicolas' hands cupped her face.  "You are so beautiful," he whispered,
and then his mouth found hers.  And Natalie melted.

"I don't know what it is..."  "...what this is..."  "...I only
know..."  "...I've never felt like this..."  "...about a woman before
in my life."  Nicolas murmured between soft, slow kisses.  He felt her
arms slowly slip around him, pulling him closer, towards his fate.

He looked into her eyes, his heart beating loudly in his ears, on fire
at the touch of her.  It was like falling into eternity, gazing into
her eyes.  He closed his eyes and nuzzled her nose.  "I have loved
you for forever..."  another kiss "...I would be empty without you..."
tiny sweet kisses "...I don't understand how this is possible, I just
know it is..."  His hands left her face and he wrapped his arms
tightly around her.  He couldn't get close enough as he found her lips
again.

"Nick...," she whispered when he let her breathe.  "I love you so
much.

His lips trailed a path across her cheek and down her neck.  Natalie
clutched at him as his lips lingered on her neck, the soft hair of his
beard tickling her.  Natalie Lambert's famous ramrod stiff backbone
collapsed; she was drowning in the sensations flooding her.  Only Nick's
arms around her prevented her from sliding bonelessly to the ground.

His hands caressed her, touched her, knew her.  She closed her eyes
tightly, and slid her hands through his long silky hair, along the
column of his neck, down his chest.  She gently pushed aside his
jerkin, and let her hand slide across his pectorals to where his heart
was.  She could feel it beneath her hand and marveled at the pounding
of his heart.  She revelled in his warmth, and the sheer humanity of
him.  Natalie listened to his deepening ragged breathing, and was
swept away.  She kissed him where his heart was.  His, oh, so human
heart.  His hand found her chin and forced her face upwards.

His lips found hers again, and his blood pounded and thundered through
his body.  "Je t'aime...ma chere Natalie..."

And after that there were no words left to speak, or conscious thought
to speak them with.  He pulled her down with him onto the blanket.
Then there was only lips and hands and sheer sensation as they
abandoned themselves to their feelings.  There alone under a sky
filled with more stars than the universe could possibly hold, Nick and
Natalie at long last found love.  The full brilliant moon watched over
them as two people, two halves of a whole could be denied no more.
And all else ceased to exist.

                               *****

The moon slid across the sky threading its way through the clouds,
while the stars glittered and twinkled.  It was beautiful beyond
Natalie's comprehension.

                      Starry, starry, night....

The words slid through Natalie's mind as she stared up at the blazing
night sky.  She had never seen anything like it.  Truly, there
couldn't be that many stars in the universe.

She lay tangled with Nick under his cloak, his arm flung across her,
his head on her breast, quietly sleeping.  She caressed his hair
absently as she struggled to stay awake against the deep lassitude,
the complete peace that filled her.  She wanted to remember this
moment, to imprint it on her memory.  The ecstasy, the unity, the
sheer love they had felt for each other.  But sleep would not be
denied and she slipped away, feeling cherished and protected by Nick.

The stars watched over them while the moon's glow lovingly caressed
them, and the trees protected them from prying eyes while they slept.
Slowly the stars wheeled through the skies...

Nicolas woke to a sense of deep happiness.  He lay there listening to
her heart beat beneath him, feeling her warmth next to his.  Her skin
was so smooth to his touch.  He couldn't believe she was real.  He
raised his head and looked at her face.  Her lashes were so long.  Her
hair was so silky.  He touched it gently.  He kissed her softly...

Natalie slowly became aware that something or someone was nibbling on
her neck.  She smiled without opening her eyes.  His breath was warm
on her neck; and his hair, that was as long as hers, fell across her,
caressing her.  There was something very sensuous about his hair.  She
giggled suddenly as his beard tickled her, and she opened her eyes to
find him smiling at her.  His eyes were warm and hopeful like a puppy
dog's.

She caught the hand that was caressing her gently, slipping along her
skin, with her own hand.  He smiled and he brought it to his lips for
a gentle kiss.

"You fill my dreams, Natalie, and then I opened my eyes and you are
here filling my arms and my life," he whispered with wonder.  He
propped himself up on his elbow and traced the lines of her face with
his fingers.  "You are so beautiful," he said huskily.

"You should say that more often," Natalie said with a slight smile.
"Somewhere between here and there, you've forgotten how to say such
things."

"No. I would never forget to say them to you," Nicolas protested.

Natalie smiled more broadly.  "No," she agreed, teasingly.

Nicolas reached out and pulled her close, cradling her in his arms. His
breath slid across her check, warming her.  "Don't go, Natalie." he
whispered.  "Stay...  please.  I can't lose you now that I've just
found you!"

Her heart flip-flopped at the heart-felt cry.  She twisted in his arms
to look into his eyes.  She reached out and touched his check softly.

"I can't, Nick.  I wish I could, but I can't.  I have to go back to
where I belong."

He pulled her close, holding her tightly. "I won't let anyone take
you," he said fiercely.

"Nick.  Don't," Natalie whispered, her throat tightening. "There is
nothing we can do.  We have so little time left, let's not spend it
trying to hold back the tide."

Nicolas shook his head in anguish and buried his face in her neck.
She felt his tears on her skin and held him close.

"Nick, we will be together, and we'll have all the time in the world.
I promise.  We will find a way.  Somehow."

He raised his head and looked at her, his eyes brimming, luminous with
tears.  One slid down his check as he gazed into her eyes.  Natalie
felt her own eyes fill.

"It's not like we won't meet again.  We will.  That's why we are
together now.  Because of a wish, remember?"

"Yes," Nicolas said quietly. "I remember.  A wish born out of love,
out of need, because we *cannot* be together.  You said we would be
more than friends if things were different.  But you don't know if
they ever will be.  Those were your words."

"I know.  But there is still the future.  We will find a way.  God
cannot deny us, we've worked too hard.  *You've* worked too hard,
overcome so much.  We will find the answer."

"The answer?"  Nicolas asked, picking up on her inflection.  "What
answer?  What is it you are not telling me?"

Natalie stopped his questions with her hand.  "You know I can't tell
you that.  Just believe in me, believe in yourself.  We've come this
far, we will suceed."

He stared into her eyes, wanting to believe, but afraid.  But the hope
he saw in her eyes was not to be denied.  "How?" he asked.

"I don't know.  Just have faith.  Never lose faith, and never stop
looking for me.  I'll be waiting," she whispered.  She wondered what
she could say that would help him hold on through the centuries he had
yet to face when she remembered the ring.

She twisted out of his arms and sat up, searching for her discarded
gown.  The pocket yielded up its small treasure.  She held it,
smiling tearfully.  Her skin shone like silver under the stars.

Nicolas sat up and surrounded her with his arms, his chin resting in
the crook of her neck.  "What is it?" he asked, curious.

"It's your birthday present.  I'd just bought it when the robbery
occurred.  Arthur brought it along for me to give to you.  I'd almost
forgotten."

"Arthur?"

"Yeah.  That's the name of our angel.  The one who granted the wish."

Natalie stared at the ring as it glinted in the starlight.  "Nick,"
she said looking up at him.  "When you look at this ring, remember me.
Remember who you are.  Remember your faith and your love.  Treasure
it, keep it close to you.  And never give up."

She took his hand and slid the ring on his finger.  He brought it
close and examined it.  He looked at Natalie in amazement.  "It's the
symbol of de Brabant.  How did you know....?"

"Promise me you will remember?"  Natalie asked.

He looked at the ring again, and then at her.  "I promise.  It will
always stand for faith, for love, for us.  I will never forget."

Natalie looked beyond him and saw that dawn was approaching.  She
threw her arms around him and kissed him angrily.  "Oh, damn!" she
said.  "It *is* the lark and not the nightingale."  And tears slid
down her face.

Nicolas stared at her completely baffled.  "What?"

She wiped her tears away with the palm of her hand.  "It's nothing.
Just an old quotation.  Dawn is coming, Nick.  I have to go at dawn."
She looked up at him.  "We are almost out of time.  Love me, Nick, for
just a little longer.  Please."

He stared up at the lightening sky in anger and dismay.  He looked
back at Natalie, his expression softening.  His hand slid through her
hair, tangling in it, and then he pulled her into his arms and kissed
her fiercely.  She wrapped her arms around him holding him as if she
would never let him go.  And then she pushed him back down to the
ground.

Passion ignited once more, and blazed up fiercely as they held each
other in an embrace bordering on desperation; fearful of the coming
dawn.  If they were not so tender of each other now, they made up for
it in passion.  Time ceased to exist and everything was shot through
with a brilliant white light as they came together and fell into the
abyss...

                               *****

Natalie woke abruptly.  She hadn't been aware she'd gone to sleep.
But somehow after all they had been through, the tenderness, the
passion, the quiet joy they had shared afterwards, and the
contentment, they had both fallen asleep.  Nick's arms cradled her,
holding her tightly against his chest.  The slow rise and fall of his
chest told Natalie he was asleep.  *Deeply asleep.*  "No," Natalie
whispered, trying to deny reality.  She closed her eyes and clung to
him, trying not to weep.  But hot tears escaped their prison and slid
down her face to drip silently onto his soft skin.

Suddenly the world was brighter as the sun sent its first rays across
the horizon, and reluctantly Natalie opened her eyes.  It was
definitely dawn.  She sat up and stared resentfully at the brilliant
glow of sunlight.  Tears fell unchecked as she watched the new day
begin.  She looked down at Nick, his face peaceful, his breathing
quiet.  She touched his hair gently and took his hand in hers and,
unable to help herself, wept into the palm of his hand.

"I love you," Natalie whispered when her tears slowed and she could
find voice.  "Forgive me for hurting you.  I didn't know it would be
like this.  I didn't know how much you loved me.  I thought I did, but
I didn't.  Forgive me, my love."  Then she kissed his palm, still wet
with her tears.  Gently she lay his hand across his chest.  She sat
there unmoving for a time, gazing at his face.  Then slowly she
untangled herself from Nick and the cloak that had been their
protection.

It was time to face reality.  Slowly she dressed and gathered up her
belongings.  The only thing she couldn't take was the blanket that
Nick lay on.

"Keep it, Nick.  And keep my love." she whispered.  Gently she knelt
and kissed him.  She caressed his face and hair softly.

Behind her, she heard the door open.  It squeaked.  Funny, she
thought, you'd think in heaven they wouldn't have trouble with squeaky
doors.

She kissed him one more time.  He stirred slightly at her touch.  A
sigh escaped him.  "I love you, Nicolas de Brabant," she breathed in
his ear.  "Remember me."  Then she stood and turned.

Arthur stood in the doorway, watching her with kind, understanding
eyes.  She picked up the basket and, without looking back, stepped
through the doorway and out of his life.  If she looked back, she
didn't think she could leave him.  And then Arthur would have to drag
her kicking and screaming through the door.  No, it was better if she
didn't look back.

The door shut behind her and Natalie closed her eyes.  It sounded like
a cell door slamming, a death knell.  It felt as if her life were
ending.  She dropped the basket and shoved her hand into her mouth to
keep from crying out.  And then she started to weep.

Arthur, kind, dear, Arthur, wrapped her in his arms, and she sobbed as
her heart broke into tiny little pieces.

                               *****

Nicolas woke up with a start and reached out for her, but there was no
one there.  A sob escaped his lips as he sat up and looked around.

"Natalie?" he cried.  But there was no answer.  The sun streamed down
on him and birds chirped loudly, disturbed by his outcry.

He felt disoriented.  He felt as if he had lost his very heart.  She
was gone.  He closed his eyes against the knowledge.  Natalie...

Slowly, he took stock of himself.  Had it happened?  Had it been a
dream.  He wasn't sure.  Even as he tried to keep her image bright in
his mind, he felt it beginning to fade.  He could feel her slipping
away.  He struggled to hold on to it, but he couldn't.  It seemed so
long ago and so far away.  He pushed his hands through his hair
struggling to capture her image and hold on to her in his heart.  But
it seemed to slide through his fingers...

He sighed and reached for his clothes when the glint on his finger
caught his eye.  He looked down and saw the ring.  He caught his
breath sharply.  He stared at it, afraid to move, afraid that it
would disappear, but it didn't.

It *was* real.  *She* was real.  It had happened.  All of it.
Suddenly the memory was there, clear and bright in his mind, making
him feel whole again.  Her voice echoed in his head, in his heart.

*"When you look at this ring, remember me.  Remember who you are.
Remember your faith and your love.  Treasure it, keep it close to you.
And never give up."*

He looked at the ring.  "I will remember, Natalie.  I will never
forget.  I will never take it off."

*"Promise me you will remember?" *

"I promise.  I will never forget you," Nicolas said fervently.  It was
a vow.

Someday he would see her again.  Somehow, they would be together.  He
winced at the sudden pain of her absence.  He didn't know if he could
even get through the day without her.  He wondered how long it would
be before he saw her again.  "I'll be waiting..."  he heard her say in
his mind.  He would be looking.

"Qu'il en soit ainsi!" he said grimly.

He got up and dressed, tears barely held in check.  Grimly, he trussed
his boots and tied his jerkin over his unlaced shirt.  He had never
felt so alone, and he wanted to cry out against God.  How could God
bring them together and give them such hope, only to take it away
again?  He could not understand.

He ate a cold breakfast, squatting besides the ashes of the fire.  He
stared at it bitterly.  His life had turned to ashes without her.  The
flames that had burned so hotly between them had molded and changed
him.  Where before there had been iron, today he was forged steel.
His resolve to find her deepened.  He found he had little appetite and
threw the dregs of his breakfast into the dead fire's ashes.

Rising, he gathered his belongings, and stopped when he realized that
the blanket was hers.  He clutched it tightly and was suddenly unable
to stop the tears that welled up in his eyes.  But even unbearable
pain eventually recedes to a level where it can be tolerated, and it
was no different for Nicolas.  His heart ached still, but his tears
were spent, at least for now.  And it was time to move on.  He would
not find her here.

Even his horse didn't argue when at last he mounted, for Nicolas was
in no mood to brook defiance.

But as he looked around one last time, the air seemed to waver and
shimmer, and the trees appeared to be painted on a canvas of air.  For
a moment everything hung suspended in the morning's bright sunlight,
transparent and surreal.  Then reality reasserted itself and
solidified.

Nicolas shook his head, puzzled.  He glanced around in confusion.
What had he been doing?  He couldn't remember why he had stopped here.
But he felt an aching loss, as if he had left something behind,
something very important.  He sat there, holding Thorn with an iron
hand as he sidled uncertainly beneath him. He looked around him again,
uncertain of what he'd been doing.  He should have gotten much farther
than this yesterday.  What *had* happened?  All he knew was that his
head ached.  He didn't notice that his heart was aching, too.  He
remembered suddenly, that he'd had an unusual dream.  Such a strange
dream it had been.  He couldn't quite remember it, but it had
unsettled him.  That was it.  That had to be it.

A glint of light on his finger caught his eye.  He looked in surprise
at the ring on his finger.  He didn't remember owning a ring like
this.  How had he gotten it?  He frowned in concentration.  It shone
brilliantly in the sunshine.  Instinctively he knew the ring had a
value beyond its fetching price.  He couldn't say why, he just knew.
It meant more to him that anything.  Somehow, he knew it stood for
faith.  Not just any faith, but faith in himself, faith in love, faith
in.... faith in... damn, faith in something, but he couldn't remember
what.

He looked up again, at the clear, blue, cloudless sky.  He gazed around
yet again at the little glen of trees, and felt empty and alone, as if
something was missing.  Something important.  He struggled to grasp
it, to recover the memory.  It wouldn't come, though.

Thorn danced impatiently beneath him, tired of being in one place.
Nicolas patted him absently, lost in thought.  Whatever it was, it
would come back sooner or later, Nicolas thought.  He shrugged and
nudged his horse forward.  Thorn broke into a trot and without much
urging into a canter, and soon they left the little glen behind.  If
he hurried, he could make Paris by tomorrow nightfall.  His
comrades-at-arms were waiting.

                               *****

They sat under the willow tree, where it had all started.  It seemed
like years ago, but it had only been sixteen hours (or four, depending
on how you looked at it) since they had first met.

Natalie stared out at the golden plain that curved up in the distance
to meet a pink and yellow sky.  Fluffy cotton clouds sprinkled with
glitter still hung from the sky.  It still looked like an Easter egg.
It was like she had climbed inside of one.  Nothing here seemed quite
real.

Arthur sat on his stump and Rolly's tail frolicked by him.  She didn't
seem to mind anymore that there wasn't any more of Rolly than his
tail.

She missed him.  It was an unexpected, aching emptiness.  She slowly
wiped the last of her tears away with the palm of her hand.
Unexpectedly, Natalie felt peace seeping into her heart.  She missed
him, but she felt at peace.  For the first time in her life, she knew
how much he loved her.  Someone had said that parting was such sweet
sorrow.  It might have been Shakespeare, she didn't know.  All she knew
was he was a dirty-rotten liar.  She had *hated* leaving him.  There
had been nothing sweet about it.  He had such a hard, difficult path
to follow.  So many centuries of pain to go through.  She wished she
could spare him that, but she couldn't.  Not Arthur, and certainly not
Natalie, could change what was to be, or had been.

"Natalie?" Arthur said.  "I do wish you would pay attention."  He
smiled as he said it.  Hadn't he said all this before?  "This is quite
important, act-ually."

Natalie reluctantly focused her attention on him.  "Oh?"

Arthur took his fedora off and set it gently in his lap.

"Yes.  When Nick woke up this morning...er woke up that morning, it
seemed to him as if it was only a dream.  And it became a dream.  I
took it and tucked it back into a tiny little place in his memory that
he has not been able to access since.  He doesn't remember what
happened."

"What!?"  Natalie cried out, sitting up abruptly, feeling anger rip
through her.  "NO.  It isn't fair."

"Natalie, please.  Let me finish."

She stared at him, feeling something within her harden.  Slowly her
hands balled into fists.

"If Nick were able to remember clearly what happened, if he could
remember you, he would never have looked twice at Janette.  He would
certainly never have been seduced by her, because his memory of you
would have been too strong.  And while you may not like it or agree,
Janette is also important to Nicolas.  Nick has only truly loved two
women in his life, Natalie.  You and Janette.  Each of you has a place
in his heart.  You are his future.  Janette is his past.  Without
Janette, he would have withered and died under LaCroix' tutelage.  He
would have walked into the sun, long ago.

"But it is a paradox, for without Janette, he would never have met
LaCroix, nor had any interest in LaCroix' proposition.  He would
never have made the choice he made.  The choice that eventually
brought him to you."

Natalie stared at him.  The hard place in her melted, and she
swallowed the lump in her throat.  "Oh," was all she could get out.

Arthur smiled at her gently. "On the other hand, Natalie, he does
treasure the ring you gave him.  He doesn't quite know why, however.
He remembers it stands for love and faith, especially faith in
himself.  To this day, he regards it as one of his most valuable
posessions.  In fact, Natalie, over the centuries, it has often
given him the courage to face down LaCroix."

Natalie felt a fierce joy bloom inside her at this tiny piece of news.

"Thank you, Arthur," she said, simply.

"You're welcome.  Now, more to the point.  The memory of your time
together is retrievable.  You can bring it back to him, if you wish.
All you have to do is ask him how he got the ring.  He will tell you he
doesn't know.  Then, if you tell him that you gave him the ring, he
will remember.  All of it.  But it is up to you to choose whether he
should know.  I honestly don't know whether it would cause him joy or
pain.  Perhaps you in your knowledge and wisdom will know when and
*if* you should tell him."

Natalie looked down at her hands for a long moment, and then back up
at Arthur.  "I don't know either," she admitted.  "Maybe God will give
me the wisdom to know what is best for Nick."

"I'm sure he will," Arthur said quietly.  "Just as he has given you
this gift to help you through what is to come."

His words hung in the air, but Natalie felt no need or desire to know
about the future.  She was content, for once, with the knowledge that
she had.  It was enough.

Somewhere, she could hear a brooklet singing, and her heart seemed to
be singing with it.  Her adventure had not been all light and lovely.
It had not been anything that she had expected or anticipated.  Funny,
she thought it would be this happy-ever-after ending.  But it wasn't.
Like all of life, it was bittersweet.  It had been a roller coaster
ride of emotions and feelings.  She had learned so much about Nick
and so much more about herself.  She had seen him alive and happy.
She had seen him with a whole heart, and she had helped to break it.
Her own had been torn in two as well.

She had seen him in the sunlight and by starlight.  She had felt his
heart beating beneath her hand and his warm body next to hers.  She
had spent the day with him, and she had paid a heavy price.  Nick, too
had paid a price.  Nothing of value, it seemed, was without a cost.

God had given her an opportunity.  A moment of happiness, like a
butterfly, had indeed landed in her hand.  It had been accompanied by
an equal measure of pain, the sting of a bee.  It didn't matter.  The
joy she had shared with Nick was worth any price, any pain.  She hoped
it would be enough to help her through the whatever lay ahead.

Arthur carefully put on his hat and arranged it stylishly.  He stood up
and smiled at Natalie.  He held out his hand to her.  "It is time to
go home, Natalie."

She took his hand and stood up.  She met his eyes with her clear, calm
ones.  "Yes.  I'm ready to go home.  I think Nick needs me."

Arthur looked at her with compassion.

She felt the tears fill her eyes.  Damn.  She thought she was done
with crying.  She blinked them away.  Natalie smiled and took a deep,
tremoulous breath.  With some irony she said, "Carpe Diem."

And suddenly, everything went dark.

                               *****

Nick sat up suddenly at the sigh that slid out of Natalie.  He leaped
out of the chair and hung over the bed, his heart in his mouth.

Her eyelids fluttered.

"Natalie, can you hear me?" he asked.  His hand smoothed her hair back
out of her face, gently.  "Natalie?  Open your eyes, Natalie.  C'mon,
you can do it.  Come back to me."

Slowly, she opened her eyes.  Everything was blurry.  The biggest blur
slowly resolved itself into Nick, leaning over her with his heart in
his eyes.  He took her hand in his and held it as if it was the most
precious thing in the world.

She couldn't seem to get anything to work properly.  She felt like
she'd been hit with a sledgehammer.  Her mouth was drier than the
Sahara.  She found it hard to swallow.  But it didn't matter, Nick was
there.  And he loved her.  That was all that mattered.

Slowly she tightened her grip on his hand.

She was rewarded with the most beautiful smile she could remember
seeing on Nick Knight's face.

"Nick."  It was no more than a whisper. but at that moment, Nick felt
as if he were alive again.  The fissure in his soul, healed at his
name on her lips.  For the first time since he'd heard she had been
shot, he felt whole again.

                               *****

Natalie Lambert lay propped up in her bed, drinking herbal tea.  The
room around her was crowded with flowers.  She had never realized how
many people cared about her.  Sometimes, she reflected, your
perspective got so narrow, you truly couldn't see the forest for the
trees.

Her recovery had been slow but steady.  She'd been in the hospital for
eight days, now.  Each day had brought friends out of the woodwork.
So many people had been to see her, or sent flowers or gifts.  But the
greatest gift had been Nick.  For the first time that she could
remember, his eyes had been completely unguarded.  The love had shone
through so clearly.  He didn't say the words, though, and she didn't
ask.  She knew, now, that he loved her.  The man loved her.  The
vampire...could not.  A man divided against himself.  Her heart ached
for him, for them.

She would be going home tonight, as soon as the sun set.
Convalescence would continue from her home.  They had argued about
that.  Nick wanted to take her to the loft.  But Natalie wanted her
own bed and her own things.  She had won.  Nick would be there to
tenderly, if reluctantly, escort her home.  He'd spent every spare
moment he'd had at her side, and even some he hadn't.  Captain Cohen
had visited her.  The tough-as-boots exterior had been laid aside to
reveal a compassionate woman; one who let Nick skimp on his work to
be at her side.  Natalie had laughed with Cohen at her little
disception.  Nick thought he was getting away with sneaking over to
the hospital when he was supposed to be doing this or that.  He
wasn't.  But Cohen wasn't going to say anything, and neither was
Natalie.

She had had to shoo him out of there to go home and get some decent
sleep.  He'd spent the first day she'd been there sleeping in the
chair, afraid to leave her.  She'd put on her toughest Dr. Lambert
voice and informed him in no uncertain terms that he was going to get
some sleep.  At home.  In his bed.  He'd gone, reluctantly.

She stared out the window and reflected on what had happened.  No
dream could approach the intensity and clarity of what she had
experienced--from the greatest ecstasy to the greatest pain.  She had
been farther away than anyone could imagine, and yet she had been no
farther than the inside of her heart.

She had wished with all her heart for a day with Nick, and it had been
granted.  Natalie could never have imagined it would be so wonderful
or so incredibly heartbreaking.  There is a price for everything, she
thought.  Well, so be it, it is a price I would pay again in a
heartbeat.  She'd had a hard dose of reality, though, and then some.
Not at all what one would expect from wishes and magic and
time-travel.  Not at all...

The radio played in the background.  Something soft and sad.  It
matched her mood today.

Only last night she had seen Nick wearing the ring.  Her ring.  She
had asked him about it, her heart in her mouth.  He had looked at her
strangely.  Natalie knew he had been listening to her heart racing and
wondering what had set it off.  She hadn't explained why she wanted to
know, but he had told her.

"It's a talisman to me," Nick had said softly looking down at it.  "It
represents faith and love.  Faith in myself, faith that I can achieve
the impossible.  It helps me to remember who *I* am, not what LaCroix
would have me be."  He'd smiled ruefully at her.  "It gives me hope."

"And the love?" Natalie had asked just as quietly.  He had stared at
the ring for a long time before answering.

"I don't know.  I just know it represents love.  A very special love.
I've often thought about it, but I can't remember.  I don't remember
how I got it...or when.  I just know it was important.  It used to
bother me I couldn't remember, because I can remember everything.  A
vampire does, you know.  Remember everything, that is," he said wryly.

Natalie knew there were volumes behind that simple statement.

He'd left it at that, and she didn't press him.  Instead he'd talked
about how he'd worn it most of his life.  Almost 800 years, he'd worn
it, a small defiance against LaCroix.  And LaCroix had never known or
guessed.  He hadn't worn it much in recent decades, because it was
becoming fragile.  Nothing lasts forever.  But he had put it back on
when Natalie was injured.  He thought it might help.  It was imbued
with centuries of hope.

Natalie had been near tears.  Despite all, he had remembered.  Even if
he didn't remember her, he remembered and had faith.  It would seem
her birthday present had been designed to give him strength and hope
to endure until they could at last meet again.  It was a far greater
gift than she had ever imagined.

She was startled out of her reverie by the song playing on the radio.

There's a place for us.
Somewhere, a place for us.
Peace and quiet and open air,
Wait for us somewhere...
There's a time for us,
someday, a time for us.
Time together with time to spare,
time to learn, time to care.
Someday...
Somewhere...
We'll find a new way of living.
We'll find a way of forgiving.
Somewhere...
There's a place for us,
a time and place for us.
Hold my hand and we're halfway there,
hold my hand and I'll take you there.
Somehow...
Someday...
Somewhere.....

Tears slid once more down her face.  Would she never stop crying?  She
had to get her bullet-proof face back before she went back to work.
She just had to!

Never had a song hit so close to home, to reality.  The hope and the
hopelessness.  Were they Romeo and Juliet?  She didn't know.  She
honestly didn't know if there was a place for them, but she had
promised him she would find one.  She would strive until her dying
breath and beyond to find that place.

Would she tell him?  She had no answers.  Would it cause him more pain
to know what they had had, and now couldn't have?  Would it be kinder
to leave it alone?  She honestly didn't know.  Maybe time would tell.
She prayed that God would give her the wisdom to know, for both their
sakes.

Either way, Nick would be here soon and he would be taking her home.
They still had the future.  They would find a way, she vowed.  They
would be together.  Somehow.  Someday.  Somewhere....



                                Fin

                               *****

"Why is it so important?"
"Because it's from before."
 -- Natalie and Nick, Queen of Harps

"Well, I guess I knew the risks when I signed on..."
 -- Natalie, Be My Valentine

============================================================================
The song Somewhere was written by L. Bernstein and S. Sondheim for
West Side Story.  The particular version Natalie heard on the radio
was sung by Barbra Striesand.  Oddly enough, it wasn't until I had
actually written the entire first draft of this story that I thought
of incorporating the song.  I guess it's serendipty.  It also gave me
the title for this piece of fantasy.

Thanks for reading this story.  I hope you enjoyed it.  I know it was
a true labor of love to write.  When my sister Jeanne finished it, she
called me on the phone and said, "Dorothy, you can't end this like
that!"  I laughed and said "Why not?"  And then a discussion ensued.
But since she's never seen the show, it was at that moment I truly
believed this was a *good* story that stood on its on merits.

I want to say thanks to Liza, my co-worker, who encouraged me to finish
this story.  She stood in my doorway one day while I was in the middle
of a training course (there's always a training course) and said "I
don't suppose you've written anymore of this story have you?" knowing
full well I was working day and night, and we both cracked up laughing.
So that night I got back to work.

Let me know what you think.  All comments are appreciated, and needed
to keep this budding writer going.  Send any and all thoughts on it to
delggren@loftworks.com.

------------------------------