Summary: After a magic wish makes Nick mortal again, his new life 
takes a tragic turn for the worse. 

Warning: Unpleasant times ahead for Nick. 

Spoilers: The Fix, Feeding the Beast, Close Call, Dark Knight, Black 
Buddah

Rated: PG-13

Disclaimer: This Forever Knight story is based on the characters and 
situations created by James Parriott, and belonging to Columbia 
Tri/Star and Sony. Used without permission but no infringement is 
intended. All other contents are copyrighted to the author.

--------

Arabian Knight 
by Fran Glass aka Dynojet@aol.com

Part 1

   Detective Nick Knight pulled his Caddy to a stop alongside 
several other police vehicles that were parked outside a well-
manicured home in an upscale neighborhood. It was the type of house 
he might indulge himself in if he weren't pretending to be just your 
average Joe living on a cop's salary. After flashing his badge to 
the rookie guarding the entrance, the direction to the crime scene 
was pointed out to him. Through the foyer and upstairs in the master 
bedroom was where the main action was taking place. He got a glimpse 
of a body on the bed and saw the flashes of a camera as the scene 
was being documented. Knowing that he would have to wait a while 
longer before going in, Nick bypassed the bedroom and headed for a 
room further down the hallway where his keen hearing had already 
picked up on a recognizable voice. He discovered his partner, Don 
Schanke speaking to a tearful, older black woman wearing a maid's 
uniform.

   "Nick," Schanke interrupted his conversation with the woman to 
acknowledge the presence of his partner. He quickly introduced him 
to the woman he'd been interviewing. "Ma'am, this is my partner 
Detective Knight. Nick, this is Mrs. Saundra McNeil. She works -- 
worked -- for the deceased. She was doing some cleaning downstairs 
when she heard a gunshot. She came up here, knocked on the bedroom 
door, didn't get an answer, found the door locked, became concerned 
and called the police. The boys in blue arrived, and after getting 
no response from inside, decided to jimmy open the door. They found 
the late Mr. Stanley Melville dead of an apparently self-inflicted 
gunshot wound."

   "Mrs. McNeil," Nick spoke softly to the woman, "Do you reside in 
this house?"

   "No, sir. I just come in to clean three times a week."

   "Did you see or talk much to Mr. Melville?"

   "Only a few minutes at a time. I've only been working for him a 
few months. He was what you'd call a swinging bachelor. He liked 
throwing parties and inviting pretty women over. Seems like I was 
cleaning up after a different woman every week. But he was a nice 
man. He'd always ask how my family was doing and he'd tell me what a 
good job I do for him, and he liked to tip me a few extra dollars."

   "So what you've seen of him," Nick queried, "he seemed pretty 
contented, did he?"

   The woman nodded. "Yes. Up until recently, that is. The last 
couple of weeks, I could see that he was pretty upset about 
something."

   "How could you tell that he was upset?" asked Schanke.

   "I could hear him yelling and cursing."

   "At who?"

   "At himself, I guess. He was mad because he couldn't solve that 
puzzle."

   "Puzzle?" both Nick and Schanke questioned at the same time.

   "For the past two weeks he was always home when I came to work. 
He'd walk around with this little square puzzle, sort of like a 
Rubik's cube I guess. He spent hours at a time just twisting and 
sliding the pieces this way and that, and getting real frustrated 
that he couldn't figure it out. You know, I've seen people get kind 
of hooked on video games and stuff, but never anything like that. He 
was acting like...." The woman's words trailed off as she reflected 
on her late employee's behavior.

   "Like what?" Nick prodded.

   "He was acting like his very life depended on getting that little 
puzzle solved."

   "Looks like it did," said Schanke with a mild grunt.

   "Mrs. McNeil, would you happen to know if Mr. Melville has any 
close relatives we can contact?" Nick asked the housekeeper.

   "None that I know of. He never mentioned any and I haven't seen 
any family pictures around the place. I kind of get the feeling he 
was a very lonely man not too long ago. Back before he came into all 
that money."

   "What'd he do?" asked Schanke. "Win the lottery?"

   "No, he was one of those people who would pick through other 
folk's trash for stuff he could fix up and resale. He told me that 
he came across a painting somebody threw out, and he picked it up 
because it had a good frame. When he started to clean the frame, 
some of the paint came off the painting and he saw that there was 
another painting underneath. Long story short, he found out he had 
an original Picasso and he auctioned it off for 2.3 million 
dollars."

   Schanke whistled his amazement. "Man, some guys have all the 
luck."

   "Seems like life was good to him for awhile," said Mrs. McNeil 
thoughtfully. "But then he started obsessing over that puzzle. And 
it was like nothing else mattered anymore. I accidentally threw it 
in the garbage the other day when I was cleaning his room and he 
really freaked out. He managed to rescue it just before the garbage 
man came to pick up. I remember thinking that if he hadn't gotten it 
back then, he probably would've gone completely insane. But I never 
thought he'd do something like this."

   "Thank you, Mrs. McNeil for your help," said Nick, bringing the 
interview to an end. "I'm sure this has been a rather disturbing 
ordeal for you, so we won't hold you here any longer." Nick motioned 
to an officer standing in the hallway. "This gentleman will escort 
you out."

   "Can you imagine that?" said Schanke after the housekeeper had 
been led away. "A guy's got all this," indicating the home which 
he'd never be able to afford on a cop's salary, "money, a different 
woman every week.... And he chucks it all cause he can't solve a 
Rubik's cube?"

   "I'm sure there's more to it than that, Schank," replied Nick as 
he peaked around the doorway and noted the police photographer 
leaving the crime scene. "Looks like they've finished the 
preliminaries. Let's go take a look."

   Natalie Lambert was bent over the body lying partially crossways 
on the bed. The smell of blood and the vision of splattered brains 
on the pale blue sheets seemed to have no ill effect on her senses. 
She was carefully examining the hand with a gun still loosely 
clenched within its grasp when in walked two of her favorite 
detectives. She glanced up and greeted them with a hint of a smile.

   "Hi, guys."

   "Hi, Nat," they each responded in kind.

   "So what do you think?" Nick asked, keeping his distance a bit, 
to keep the massive amount of blood from triggering his vampire 
responses.

   "Well, so far, it's looking like suicide. It appears that he sat 
down on the edge of the bed, held the gun with both hands, placed 
the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger."

   "Was there a note?"

   "Haven't found one yet. I've still got some more to do here, so 
maybe you guys can just have a look around."

   Nick nodded, then with a pointed finger, indicated that Schanke 
should search the left side of the room while he checked the right. 
The room showed no signs of struggle or forced entry. The windows 
were locked, indicating that no one had exited through them. Cash 
and other items of value were found lying on the dresser. Picking up 
the man's wallet and scanning the contents, Nick noticed something 
interesting. He walked back over to Natalie and showed her Stanley 
Melville's driver's license.

   "Nat, would you say that the man on this license is the same as 
the man on the bed?"

   Natalie paused in her examination to compare the photo ID to the 
deceased. Disregarding the fact that driver license photos were 
notoriously unflattering, it was clear to see that the man had 
changed considerably since it was taken. Nat perused the photo with 
a magnifying glass, then finally nodded.

   "Well, he's obviously lost a lot of weight and he's apparently 
had a hair transplant, but everything else including that little 
mole on his chin and the green eyes are the same. It's him, Nick."

   After she handed the license back to him, Nick studied it again. 
Something just didn't seem right. "According to this license, Mr. 
Melville was weighing in at 315 pounds. He looks like he's probably 
-- what 160, 150 now?"

   "Your point?"

   "Nat, this license was renewed barely four months ago. That's 
about forty pounds a month. Is it normal to lose that kind of weight 
that quickly?"

   "No, no it's not. He may have had some kind of illness or 
physical disorder. I'll check it out back at the lab. That just 
might be the answer to why he did this."

   "Hey, Nick," Schanke called out as he stooped down to pick 
something out of the trash basket near the closet. "You think this 
is the thing the maid was talking about?"

   Nick walked over to his partner and took the object he held. "I 
think so. It's a Chinese puzzle box. I've seen quite a few in my 
time but never one quite like this."

   "What's so special about it that the guy would kill himself over 
it?"

   Natalie approached Nick and Schanke, having taken an interest in 
their conversation. "What do you mean? He killed himself over what?"

   "The maid said that for the past couple of weeks the guy has been 
obsessed with trying to solve this puzzle, like his life depended on 
it."

   "I know of a legend," said Nick, "about an ancient Chinese wish 
box. The story goes that, if you can solve the puzzle, the box opens 
and grants you one wish. The puzzle then resets itself and to gain 
another wish, you have to solve it again. Only the puzzle is always 
different and it's supposedly harder to figure out the second time 
around. On the third try, it gets even harder and after that, it 
becomes virtually impossible to solve."

   "So you're saying that Mr. Melville was trying to solve the 
puzzle to make a wish come true?" asked Nat.

   "Then went wacko when he couldn't figure it out?" Schanke added.

   "I don't know," said Nick with a thoughtful shrug. "It's just a 
legend. A fable. I've heard thousands of them."

------------------- 
Baghdad - 1258 
-------------------

   Sand. Everywhere he looked for miles and miles, there was nothing 
but sand. Nicholas couldn't understand why his master had dragged 
him out to such a barren wasteland. They had flown nearly non-stop 
all night to reach the palace before daybreak. Once there, however, 
the accommodations were so plush and their host so obliging, that 
being stuck out in the middle of nowhere was less frightening for 
the young vampire. LaCroix had been invited to meet with the Arabian 
King and offer his wartime expertise in defending the country 
against the impending Mongolian invasion. With a few well-worded 
hypnotic suggestions from LaCroix, the king made sure that his 
guests' every need was graciously met.

   A bevy of harem girls were assigned to entertain and serve them. 
His master had cautioned him about being greedy or messy, but 
apparently it was understood that during their week-long stay, the 
king's extensive harem would be reduced by a dozen or so. It was a 
chance for the king to rid himself of the less desirable of his many 
wives.

   On his fourth night in the palace, the young woman who was sent 
to his chambers to entertain him proved to be somewhat different 
than her predecessors. The first had been loud and obnoxious, 
babbling and giggling incessantly. The second had been rather tall 
with a manly build. Nicholas felt compelled to check her sex 
afterwards just to make sure that indeed she had been female. The 
third woman was very unattractive and less than graceful both in 
movement and in speech. Normally, Nicholas preferred to make love or 
at least steal a few kisses before reducing his women to dinner, but 
with what had been in the offering thus far had made him only want 
to take their blood quickly and dispose of the body as soon as 
possible.

   As he lounged back on the plush cushions of his bed, he had 
already prepared himself for the worse. He sighed deeply as he 
pictured an older, toothless hag with leathery skin and long 
breasts, hobbling through the door. He was more than just a little 
amazed when a lissome young woman entered his chambers and lowered 
her veil. She was easy on the eye, with a sensual smile, exotic, 
cat-like eyes and flawless skin. Nicholas sat up instantly, thinking 
that perhaps there had been some mistake. The exquisite creature 
before him was not possibly meant to be sacrificed.

   "Are you sure you have come to the right place?" he found himself 
questioning her presence.

   "You are Nicholas, are you not?" came the reply.

   "Yes. You are my entertainment for the night?"

   "If entertainment is indeed what you seek, I am here to provide 
it."

   "You think I seek something else?"

   "I know of others who have come to entertain you. They have not 
been seen or heard from again. I imagine they displeased you?"

   "I did find their company as well as their beauty somewhat 
lacking."

   "I hope I do not displease you."

   "No, on the contrary, I find you quite refreshing. The others the 
king have sent to me were not half as enchanting as yourself."

   "Is that why you killed them?"

   He was surprised by her question and wondered if she knew exactly 
what he was and what he had planned for her. Nicholas rose from the 
bed and circled her slowly, eying her hungrily. "That was one of the 
reasons I killed them," he replied honestly. "It was obvious that 
the king no longer desired them. Is there some reason that he no 
longer desires you as well?"

   "Not him, but some of his other wives are jealous of me. They 
have banded together to have me removed from the palace one way or 
another. But I do not wish to die. Perhaps if I please you well, you 
will not kill me?"

   Though he had already decided to take his time with this beauty, 
stretching out her death over a period of two or three nights, the 
thought of not killing her had not crossed his mind. He had yet to 
feed from someone and not kill them, so making her such a promise 
would not be easily kept.

   "If you please me well tonight," he made the offer, "I will spare 
your life tonight. But you will return tomorrow night and attempt to 
please me again."

   She readily accepted the challenge. She was smart enough not to 
do anything that would tempt him physically. She replaced her veil 
and kept her distance as she began to tell him of far away places 
filled with magic and marvel.

-------- 
Present 
--------

   "Earth to Nick. Yo! Knight!"

   Nick snapped alert at the insistent voice in his ear, embarrassed 
by his inward distractions from the past. "Sorry, Schanke, what did 
you say?"

   "Just where is that planet you visit all the time? What, you get 
frequent flyer miles or something?"

   "Sorry, just remembering some stuff."

   "Yeah, pick me up a postcard next time, huh? A little wish you 
were here?"

   "Okay, Schanke, I'm back now. You find anything else?"

   "Nah. Nothing that suggests that this was anything other than 
self-sayonara. Looks like the guy just offed himself."

   "Yeah, I'm inclined to agree."

   Schanke gave a nod towards the Chinese puzzle box his partner 
still held in his hands. "You think maybe we should tag that as 
evidence? You know, if he did kill himself because of it, maybe the 
next of kin can use it to sue the manufacturer. A lot of that's 
going around these days."

   Nick turned the item over in his hands and studied it carefully. 
The fine craftsmanship and the use of dark green jade with white 
marble in its creation helped Nick to loosely tag its age. He knew 
it was well over a thousand years old, but decided to play down that 
fact. "Whoever made this is long gone, Schanke. This is hundreds of 
years old. It's possible that Mr. Melville found this in the same 
pile of trash he discovered the Picasso painting."

   "So, it's an antique then. How much you figure it's worth?"

   "Apparently, a man's life." Nick tossed the puzzle back to 
Schanke, essentially allowing him to decide what to do with the 
object.

--------

   The investigation into Stanley Melville's death moved rather 
quickly. Medical reports revealed that Mr. Melville had a serious 
glandular problem that accounted for his abnormal weight loss. His 
condition had been incurable and within a few more weeks he would 
have been bedridden, and a slow death -- hooked up to a life support 
system -- would have been his only future. It was the consensus that 
his bad health had led him to end his life prematurely.

   "You know, I've been thinking," said Schanke as he reached for 
something in his bottom, desk drawer.

   "In public?" Nick teased.

   "Good one, Knight. About this thing." He pulled out the Chinese 
puzzle box still wrapped in the plastic bag he had used to tag it as 
evidence.

   "What are you doing with that? Shouldn't it be in the evidence 
room? Or back in Mr. Melville's trash bin?"

   "Well, it's not really evidence because it was never actually 
part of a crime. And the guy had thrown it in the trash, so that 
meant he never intended to pass it on to any next of kin, not that 
we were ever able to locate any."

   "So you figure it's yours because you rescued it from the trash?"

   "Well, let's not get into the technicalities of who it belongs to 
right now. I was thinking that maybe there's something to this. 
Listen to this. What if Melville found this in someone's trash, 
played around with it and solved the puzzle, then finds out he's got 
a wish coming to him. So, being a poor slob, the first thing he 
wishes for is a bucket-load of money. Next thing you know, he's 
cleaning off a frame and presto, a two-million-dollar-plus painting 
pops up. That's wish number one."

   Nick smiled as he placed his elbows on his desk and propped his 
chin atop his folded hands. He usually didn't enjoy listening to his 
partner's theories, because they were so often contradictory to his 
own, but this particular theory promised to be rather entertaining. 
"Go on," said Nick, to show he was actually paying attention.

   "Okay, so the guy's got money now. He can afford a fancy car and 
a great house in a snazzy neighborhood. Now, he wants to attract 
women."

   "Wouldn't the money do that?" asked Nick.

   "Yeah, of course. But not every woman is attracted by money 
alone. Some insist that you have good looks as well. They want the 
guy to have a trim physique and a full head of hair. Four months 
ago, Melville's got less hair than I have. Then all of a sudden, 
he's got a mop full of wavy brown locks. Wish number two."

   "You think he wished for hair?"

   "Hey, you think I don't look in the mirror at times and wish for 
the seventies again? Man, I thought I'd never become synonymous with 
the words thinning and receding."

   "Okay, so he wishes for hair," Nick concedes. "Then what?"

   "He's got hair, he's got money, but he's a bit on the heavy side. 
I checked out his closet, Nick. He still had some of his fat clothes 
there, probably as a reminder. And I'm telling you; he lied on his 
license. He weighed a lot more than three-fifteen. My guess would be 
three-fifty at the least."

   "So he wishes that he could lose weight," Nick finished his 
partner's theory.

   "Bingo. The medical reports show that his condition came on 
suddenly. He was losing weight at a rapid pace, and he was probably 
ecstatic about it at first. He was trimming down and looking good, 
but then he figures that something's wrong. He couldn't *stop* 
losing the weight."

   "So he spends all his time trying to solve the puzzle so he can 
make another wish to save his life?" Nick hypothesized.

   "Two weeks later and he still can't solve it, and he finally 
realizes he never will."

   The sudden awareness of what he might be holding in his hands 
sent a chill through Schanke and he instantly dropped the puzzle 
onto the desk. Nick picked it up and removed it from the plastic 
bag.

   "Hey," Schanke spoke while backing his chair away from his desk a 
few inches, "maybe... maybe we shouldn't fool around with that 
thing."

   "Schanke, that was just a legend, okay? This," Nick emphasized as 
he held up the cube, "was created to entertain, to pass away idle 
time." Without giving it much thought, Nick began to randomly twist 
and slide parts of the puzzle into new positions. "It's nothing to 
be afraid of. It's merely a toy."

   "I knew that," said Schanke defensively. "But it's just kind of 
creepy when you stop to think about it. I mean, you'd really have to 
be careful what you wish for, right? I hear people wishing they 
could lose weight all the time, but they usually specify a few 
pounds or fifty or whatever. My guess is that this guy never 
specified how much he wanted to--" Schanke instantly lost his trail 
of thought when he heard a strange clicking noise. His eyes focused 
on Nick and he glared in both horror and amazement as the object in 
Nick's hand began to open up like a blossoming flower.

-------- 
end part 1 
--------

Part 2

   Nick never thought that he'd be able to solve the puzzle so 
easily, but as he began repositioning the pieces, he saw a 
distinctive pattern beginning to emerge. There was a picture of a 
jade dragon whose head was on one side of the cube while the body 
wrapped itself around the other sides. Its feet were on the bottom 
and wings stretched out along the top. The puzzle practically solved 
itself and as the last twist completed the pattern, Nick felt the 
cube shift in his hands. It began a series of clicks as the tiled 
six sides began to collapse open like a cardboard box being 
flattened out. In the center of the flattened cube was a crystal 
sphere, measuring three inches in diameter. Inside the sphere was a 
swirling of blue smoke which slowly twisted and curled to form the 
words, 'Make a wish.'

   "Man oh man oh man!" Schanke exclaimed loudly. He glanced around 
the squad room to see if his outburst had drawn the attention of 
others. The place was bustling with activity, and even if his fellow 
co-workers had not been otherwise occupied, they apparently had 
learned to ignore the sound of his loud mouth. Also, if anyone had 
looked, the computer monitors and stacks of paperwork on Nick and 
Schanke's facing desks basically obscured the view of the sphere 
from those nearby.

   "Man, oh man, it's for real!" Schanke stated excitedly, keeping 
his voice low.

   Nick glanced up at him momentarily, then brought his eyes back 
down to stare at the sphere, unsure of what to think or what to do. 
No, he had not seen this before, but this was undeniably the one he 
had been told about so many centuries ago.

------------------- 
Baghdad - 1258 
-------------------

   Her name was Shalimar and she had told him one fascinating story 
after another. Between the soft cadence of her voice when she spoke 
and the rich descriptions of her carefully crafted tales, she had 
kept the vampire completely entranced. He kept his word and spared 
her life that first night. There were several other women that had 
been picked to fulfill his needs and Nicholas saw no harm in 
changing the order. Shalimar had agreed to return the following 
night to engage him with even more delightful tales. Nicholas warned 
her against breaking her word. If he were forced to hunt her down, 
he made it very clear that he would not be kind upon finding her.

   At the appointed time, the following night, she arrived just as 
she had before with her veil hiding her face. Again she kept her 
distance from him, sticking close by the door and refusing to sit. 
There was no way she could have known that he could reach her from 
anywhere in the room in less than an eye blink, but if she imagined 
herself safe by keeping several feet of space between them, he would 
allow it. Nicholas lay back against the cushions of the bed and 
peacefully listened as she began a new story.

   "I shall now tell you about the magic box which gives its owner 
three wishes."

   "Did you not recite that one last night?" Nicholas asked, sitting 
up with a frown. "Have you run out of fresh anecdotes so soon?"

   "No, not at all. Last night was about Aladdin and his magic lamp. 
This story is quite different. Shall I continue?"

   Nicholas gave a slight nod and waited a few moments after her 
narration began before settling back down into the cushions, 
satisfied that this story was in fact not the same as before.

   "There exists a magical box, small enough to fit in your opened 
palm, made of finest jade and thin layers of white marble. The box 
is actually a puzzle. Different sections can be turned one way but 
not the other. The sides have small panels that pull outward and 
push inward at specific points. To solve the puzzle, you must 
maneuver the sections until a picture of a dragon appears, its 
entire body spanning across all six sides of the box. And once the 
dragon is completely uncovered, the box will open to reveal a 
crystal sphere. Inside the crystal, blue smokes swirls all about 
until forming the words, 'Make a Wish'. If your wish is to be 
granted - and not all are -- the blue smokes swirls again until it 
forms the words, 'As you wish.' At that point, the puzzle box closes 
and the dragon goes into hiding until the puzzle is solved once 
again."

   "Why would the magic box grant some wishes and not others?" asked 
Nicholas.

   "Because not all wishes can be granted."

   "But if the magic is truly powerful--"

   "Yes, the magic is indeed powerful, but even magic knows its 
limits. If a man wished to rule the entire world, the magic would 
have to face far too many forces in order to make such a thing 
possible. It would have to change the hearts and minds of all the 
people of the earth to make them want to follow only one leader and 
one line of thought. I believe you have seen much of the world. Do 
you think such a thing is possible?"

   In the last thirty years alone, Nicholas had seen more than his 
share of would-be kings hell-bent on ruling the world. He shook his 
head in response to her question. "No, I don't believe that such a 
thing *is* possible. And if one were to wish for an end to all wars, 
the same problem would exist, would it not?"

   "Yes. One could, however, wish to become a powerful leader. That 
is within the realm of the magic box; as well as great wealth, long 
life and many other wonderful things. If your wish is within reason, 
then it will be granted."

-------- 
Present 
--------

   Nick blinked his eyes when a balled up piece of paper bounced off 
his forehead. He had done it again; lost himself in visions of his 
past and garnered another barrage of 'Knight in Wonderland' comments 
from his exasperated partner.

   "You know what I wish?" Schanke huffed. "I wish you'd stop zoning 
out on me like that when I'm trying to have an intelligent 
conversation with you. Oh no!" Schanke gasped in alarm. "You don't 
think that counted, do you? I didn't just screw up your chance to 
make a wish, did I?"

   Nick looked down at the globe and saw that the invitation to make 
a wish was still visible. He shrugged with nonchalance and said, 
"Guess not."

   "Good. That's good. But that's what I was just saying; you have 
to be careful what you wish for. You have to think of something 
really special and you have to be very specific. So what are you 
gonna wish for? No! Wait. Don't tell me or else it may not come 
true."

   Nick chuckled lightly. "Schanke, this isn't a birthday cake. I'm 
not blowing out candles."

   "Yeah, but still, everybody knows it's bad luck to make a wish, 
then blab about it before it has a chance to come true."

   "Of course."

   "So, you gonna make one or what?"

   Nick gave it some thought. Of course there was only one wish he 
would love to see come true; the one thing he had been dreaming of 
for centuries. To be mortal again was his heart's desire. He 
wondered if he needed to say the words aloud, then immediately felt 
silly for even entertaining the idea that such a goal could ever be 
achieved by simply wishing it so.

   "Knight! Schanke!" Captain Cohen called out to them from her 
office door.

   All thoughts of magic wishes and mortality were quickly cast 
aside as duty called and the two detectives rushed to their 
captain's office. They all remained standing as Captain Cohen 
informed them of a call she'd just received. Nathan Tyler, a murder 
suspect they had been seeking for several days, had just been 
reported as hiding out at an old girlfriend's apartment. The 
detectives were encouraged to move quickly in order to apprehend the 
man. Nick was nearly out of the squad room when he noticed that his 
partner was not right behind. Schanke had stopped off at his desk to 
grab his jacket from the back of his chair, but became transfixed by 
something on Nick's desk.

   Nick approached and grabbed his arm. "Schank, let's go."

   Schanke's expression was hard to read as he said softly, "Hey, 
whatever it was, I hope it was something great and I hope it all 
works out for you."

   Nick didn't understand what his partner meant until he glanced at 
his own desk and saw that the magic box was no longer open. It had 
closed itself up and the puzzle was ready to be solved again.

--------

   On the drive over to the address given them by an anonymous 
informant, Schanke couldn't stop thinking about the magical puzzle. 
"I wonder how long it'll take," he mused aloud.

   "It's not that far," answered Nick, as he maneuvered the Caddy 
swiftly through the light, late night traffic. "We should be there 
in about ten minutes."

   "No, I meant, how long would it take for your wish to come true?"

   "Schanke, don't."

   "You didn't see it, Nick! Just before it closed up and scrambled 
itself all up again, I saw the words."

   "What words?"

   "'As you wish.' That means you made a wish, right? And now it's 
going to be granted. You didn't wish for something dumb, did you?"

   "Schanke, can we not talk about that? Our minds should be on the 
case."

   "What's to think about? We get there, you do your famous go 
around the back routine, catch the guy single-handedly as he makes a 
break for it, then leave me with all the paperwork."

   "Would you rather go around the back?" Nick asked, sensing the 
frustration in his partner's voice.

   "No. No, why screw around with a perfect system? You didn't by 
chance wish for a new partner, did you?"

   Nick shook his head and grinned. "You're still here, aren't you?"

   Schanke shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, guess I am. But you have to 
admit, there was a time when you would've wished for a different 
partner. Am I right?"

   "Yeah, in the beginning, you did sort of rub me the wrong way."

   "But then you finally came to respect and admire my vast 
experience, my award-winning performance under pressure and -- let's 
not forget -- my irresistible personality.

   "You forgot to mention your unpretentious modesty," Nick teased.

   "Hey... goes without saying."

-------

   Once they reached the suspect's hideout, the two detectives 
separated. Schanke chose to approach from the front of the building 
while his partner chose the rear. As soon as Nick had made it to the 
semi-darkened alley, he elevated himself into the air to reach the 
fourth floor windows. As he neared the third floor, he felt a sudden 
heaviness to his body. Something was weighing him down, pulling him 
back towards the ground. He tried to force himself to stay in the 
air but gravity quickly overtook him and he fell ungracefully to the 
concrete below.

   Nick landed on his feet but crumbled to the ground when his knees 
couldn't handle the sudden force of his weight. There was no time to 
try to figure out what had happened as he became distracted by the 
sound of a window on the fourth floor being flung open. He looked up 
to see a man climbing out of the window and onto the fire escape. 
There was just enough light from the street corner for a positive 
ID.

   Nick scrambled to his feet, wincing as he put weight on his left 
foot and felt a twinge of pain shoot through his ankle. Something 
definitely wasn't right, but he pushed that nagging thought aside as 
he pressed his back against the wall, hiding himself amongst the 
shadows. Pulling out his weapon, he readied it for use as he waited 
for the suspect to come right to him. It only took a few seconds 
more for Nathan Tyler to maneuver his way down the fire escape. Once 
reaching the ground, he paused for a second to decide which way to 
run. That was when Nick made his presence known. "Police! Don't 
move!" he warned with his gun trained on the man's back.

   As Tyler's hands went up in surrender, Nick approached him 
cautiously. He was surprised to find himself limping as he closed in 
on the suspected killer, but he couldn't afford to worry about his 
own discomfort just yet. He had a job to fulfill.

   "Nick?" Schanke called out from the window above.

   "I've got him, Schank," Nick replied confidently. "Come on down."

   Since Nick had never needed assistance before in subduing a 
prisoner, he didn't bother to wait for Schanke to join him and 
provide backup. It didn't phase him that Tyler towered over him by 
five inches and outweighed him by about sixty pounds. He'd handled 
bigger and tougher men before. Nick holstered his gun to free his 
hands, then pulled out his handcuffs. He snapped one end of the 
cuffs around Tyler's left wrist then twisted the man's arm behind 
his back. As he prepared to grab the suspect's right hand, Tyler 
suddenly raised his right elbow and jabbed backwards with deadly 
force. He clipped Nick on the chin with enough potency to rattle his 
teeth and knock him to his knees. As Nick attempted to fight off the 
dizzying effects of the punch, Tyler spun around to face him. He 
made a jerking movement with his right hand, and the blade of a 
knife suddenly appeared from beneath his sleeve.

   Normally, Nick's quick reflexes would have enabled him not only 
to avoid the six inch blade but to confiscate it as well. 
Unfortunately, things were not quite normal for him anymore. He 
hissed in pain as the blade sliced across the forearm that he held 
up in a weak attempt to defend himself. The only thing that saved 
him from further attack was the warning voice of his partner 
demanding that Tyler halt. Nick watched helplessly as the giant of a 
man suddenly turned and fled down the alley. Schanke came into view 
a few seconds later intending to chase after the suspect. However, 
he instantly changed directions when he caught sight of his partner 
struggling to stand up and having little success at it.

   "Hey, hey, I got you, partner," said Schanke as he rushed to 
Nick's aid and provided the assistance he needed to get to his feet.

   "I'm okay, Schank," Nick insisted but none too convincingly. 
"Don't worry about me. Tyler's getting away."

   "Too late," said Schanke with a quick glance at the deserted 
streets. "No telling which way he's headed now. We'll just have to 
put out an APB on him. So what about you? What kind of damage are we 
talking?"

   "Just got the wind knocked out of me is all," Nick lied.

   Schanke supported his partner's weight by slipping an arm about 
his waist and draping Nick's right arm around his shoulders. He 
heard Nick grunt in pain and noticed a definite limp as he walked 
him out of the alley towards the parked Caddy. "What'd he do, kick 
you in the shin or something?" Schanke asked.

   "Twisted ankle. I tripped and fell before he came out," Nick 
shamefully admitted.

   "You tripped? You? Mr. Graceful? Mr. One silver suit away from 
being RoboCop?

   "Off night," Nick offered as way of an explanation. He hobbled 
along, trying to keep his weight off his injured ankle. It still 
hadn't completely sunk in exactly what was happening to him. He was 
still feeling a bit dazed by the blow he'd received and the 
relentless throbbing of his knife wound made it difficult to 
concentrate on anything else. He could feel the blood dripping down 
his wrist and did what he could to conceal the injury from his 
partner. He just needed to get to Natalie. She'd be able to figure 
out what was going on and fix him right up. It wasn't until Schanke 
had him out under the street light that he noticed the ripped jacket 
sleeve and the bloody trail Nick had left behind.

   "Jeez, Nick!" he exclaimed as he leaned him against the Caddy. 
"Why the hell didn't you say something?" If Nick wasn't so sweaty 
and breathless, Schanke would have taken the daze look of his 
partner to be no more than one of his mental wandering episodes. 
"Stay with me, Nick! Stay with me," Schanke implored as he removed 
his necktie to use as a tourniquet for Nick's arm.

   "I'm okay, Schanke," Nick uttered. "It's just a scratch."

   "Scratch my ass. Nick, you're bleeding here like someone forgot 
to turn off the faucet. Hold on." Schanke gently grabbed Nick's arm 
and began to apply the tourniquet to control the bleeding. "Let me 
just get this wrapped around you, then I'll call for an ambulance."

   "I don't need an ambulance," Nick insisted even as the pain in 
his arm increased as his friend applied the tourniquet. "Just take 
me to see Natalie."

   "Nick, I'll admit that Natalie's a great doctor for dead people, 
but you need someone who specializes in the living, okay? Trust me."

   "Schank, I don't--" Nick attempted to prevent his partner from 
calling it in but a overpowering wave of dizziness hampered his 
ability to object and he began a sudden downward slide. Schanke 
helped to ease him into a sitting position on the sidewalk with his 
back against the side of the car.

   "I got you, partner. You're gonna be okay. I'm calling for an 
ambulance. You just hang on."

   There was no use in arguing further even if he still possessed 
the ability to do so. Nick sat and concentrated on not passing out 
as he listened to the frantic words of his fellow detective 
announcing that an officer was down and that an ambulance was 
needed. Soon after that, Nick lost his battle for consciousness. 
Strong hands caught him as he fell sideways towards the ground and 
gentle arms held him securely until help could arrive.

-------- 
end part 2 
--------

Part 3

    As Nick's eyes slowly fluttered opened, he found himself in 
unusual surroundings -- unusual for him at least. He noticed several 
things simultaneously. The first thing that caught his eye was the 
pale blue curtain that partially surrounded the bed in which he lay. 
The second thing he noticed was the needle taped to his right arm 
and the tubing which led to a couple of bags hanging from an IV 
stand next to the bed. Both bags were nearly drained, one having had 
clear liquid in it while the other held a dark red liquid. Add that 
to the sounds and voices he heard from beyond the curtain, Nick was 
quick to recognize the fact that he had been brought to a hospital, 
but a little slow to realize that he wasn't alone. When he slowly 
turned his head, he discovered a dark-haired, young woman dressed in 
white, seated to his left, carefully applying sutures to close the 
cut on his arm. Nick jerked away from her and bolted upright in a 
sudden panic.

   "It's all right!" the woman cooed to him as though he was a child 
awaking from a bad dream. "You're safe, Mr. Knight," she spoke to 
him reassuringly as she gently pushed down on his shoulder. "Just 
settle down. Everything's going to be okay."

   Not wanting to cause a scene, Nick forced himself to relax, 
settling back down on the bed and allowing the woman to continue the 
work on his arm. He knew he needed to get away from her and the 
hospital as soon as possible before his unique physical makeup began 
to raise questions. He noted that he had been stripped of his suit 
jacket and blue, silk shirt, but the rest of his clothing was 
intact. He saw a small amount of blood on his T-shirt, and when he 
took a good look at his injured arm, he frowned in confusion. 
Although the three-inch gash along his forearm was now painless, it 
showed no signs of healing itself. It was red and puffy around the 
edges with traces of blood still oozing out of the unstitched areas.

   "How long have I been out?" Nick asked.

   "As I understand it, you passed out at the scene nearly thirty 
minutes ago. You did wake up briefly in the ambulance, but I suppose 
you were a little too out of it to remember. I'm Dr. Carla Perez," 
the woman thought to introduce herself. "I'm an intern here at the 
hospital and you're my first knife wound. But don't let that alarm 
you. Trust me; the wound isn't all that serious. It was a little 
deep, but luckily, there was only minor tissue damage. However, you 
did lose a fair amount of blood -- which would account for your 
little impromptu nap -- but your vital signs are looking pretty good 
now."

   "My... vital signs?" Nick questioned.

   "Yes." The doctor gave a nod towards the silent monitor to which 
her patient was wired. "Your heartbeat is strong and steady, your 
blood pressure is stable and your temperature is normal."

   "Normal?" Nick repeated the word quizzically as he stared at the 
monitor and tried to interpret its numerical messages. The 
information was slowly trickling into his brain. He was beginning to 
assimilate what he'd just been told about his condition with the 
events which had placed him in a doctor's care. The fact that he was 
unable to stay airborne, his weakness and lack of agility against 
his attacker combined with his inability to heal instantly all added 
up to one thing.

   "I'm mortal," he softly uttered.

   "Indeed you are," the doctor verified his statement, apparently 
thinking nothing odd in him making it. "Do you remember what 
happened to you?"

   "I uh.... had a confrontation with a suspect. He elbowed me...." 
Nick paused and lifted his right hand to gently probe his swollen 
chin, finding it painfully tender to the touch.

   "Your jaw isn't broken or anything, but you're going to need an 
ice pack for that," the doctor told him.

   Nick gave a minor nod of understanding. "Do you know if my 
partner is around here anywhere?"

   "Well, there was a frantic gentleman here earlier, but I had to 
insist he go get some air or something because he was driving 
everyone crazy with suggestions of how we should all perform our 
jobs."

   "That would be Schanke," Nick smiled lightly. "I suppose he 
probably saved my life tonight."

   "Yeah, and don't think I'm gonna let you forget it either," said 
the man in question as he peered around the privacy curtain 
separating Nick's bed from the rest of the emergency room holding 
area.

   "No, I won't forget it, Schanke. Thanks. I owe you a big one."

   "Hey, don't worry about it, partner. You'd do the same for me."

   "Did you call Nat?"

   "Oh, jeez!" Schanke exclaimed as he slammed his palm against his 
forehead. "Everything was moving so fast and I had to answer so many 
questions from everybody, plus Cohen's breathing down my neck 
wanting to know what went down--"

   "Schank!" Nick interrupted his apologetic tirade. "It's okay. I 
understand. Just as well. I wouldn't want to worry her 
unnecessarily. I'll just talk to her later."

   "So how's he doing, Doc?" Schanke asked just as the doctor 
finished securing the last suture.

   "No worse for wear," she replied, giving Nick a friendly smile 
and a pat on the back of his hand. As she tore open a large, self-
adhesive, sterile pad and placed it over the wound, she instructed 
him on future care. "You need to keep the wound dry and clean. I 
recommend a bandage for the next couple of days. After that, I 
suggest you wear lightweight, long-sleeve shirts to help protect it 
from dirt." Dr. Perez picked up Nick's chart and made a notation on 
it. "Do you have any drug allergies, Mr. Knight?"

   "Not that I'm aware," Nick answered truthfully.

   "Okay. I'll write you a prescription for antibiotics to stave off 
any infections and we'll set you up with a little something for the 
pain."

   "It doesn't hurt," Nick informed her.

   "That's the local anesthetic at work, but once it wears off, 
you'll probably be wanting something a little stronger than aspirin. 
And I suggest you take a day or two off from work. When you do go 
back, light duty only. If there are no problems with the wound, plan 
to come back to have the stitches removed in two weeks. Okay?"

   "So I can go home now?" asked Nick.

   "Well, we'll let you rest for a little while longer, then if you 
can stand on your own two feet, I don't see why not."

   As it turned out, he was only able to stand on one foot. Nick had 
forgotten about his injured ankle until he actually tried to put his 
weight on it. Both the doctor and his partner were quick to catch 
him and prevent him from falling. After an x-ray revealed nothing 
broken, Nick's swollen ankle was treated with an ice pack, then 
wrapped tightly with an elastic bandage. An hour later, he was 
released from the hospital.

   Instead of taking him back to the loft, Nick asked his partner to 
drive him over to Natalie's apartment. Schanke felt better about 
that than leaving Nick alone to fend for himself. As he drove the 
car through the predawn streets, Schanke kept stealing glances at 
his physically damaged friend. He wasn't use to seeing Nick 
appearing less than perfect. As many scuffles with bad guys as 
they'd encountered, Nick had always walked away either completely 
unscathed or with such minor injuries, that he barely needed 
anything other than a kiss from Natalie to make it all better. It 
was really unsettling to see him with a large, purple bruise 
covering his chin, and his arm nestled in a sling to keep it from 
banging against something and causing more damage. And just to see 
Nick in pain had been a real eye-opener. He had always been Mr. 
Macho, able to shake off any blow and even pretend that the bullet 
that grazed him was no more irritating than a mosquito bite.

   "Some night, huh?" asked Schanke, wanting to say so much more, 
but not knowing where to start.

   "Yeah," Nick softly agreed. His mind was still busy trying to 
absorb it all; not only his injuries, but his newly found mortal 
existence and what it all meant in terms of his future with the 
police department, with Natalie and his vampire family.

   "You know, you kind of had me worried there for a while," Schanke 
timidly admitted. "All that blood. I wasn't quite sure it was just 
coming from the one cut. Then you go passing out on me like that. 
You could give a guy a heart attack doing stuff like that, you 
know?"

   "I'm sorry, Schanke. Didn't mean to worry you."

   "Yeah, well, no harm done. But I mean, if you're going to go 
around playing Supercop all the time, you've got to stay in 
character, Nick. You can't go getting yourself stabbed and stuff."

   "I'll try to be more careful next time. By the way, were you ever 
able to catch Tyler?"

   "Nah. He got away. But, what the hell, we caught up to him this 
time, we'll catch him again eventually. So, uh... do you think all 
this has anything to do with your wish?"

   "My wish?"

   "Yeah. You know, like what happened with that Melville guy. You 
think that maybe what's happened here is sort of a backlash to you 
making your wish?"

   Uncannily, Schanke had just hit the nail on the head with his 
theory but Nick couldn't let on how true his statement was. "No, 
Schanke," he said softly. "I think my Supercop mentality finally got 
the best of me is all."

   Schanke did a double take of his partner. "Did I just hear 
right?"

   Nick smiled lightly. "Yes, Schanke. I'm admitting it. I screwed 
up. It was poor police work on my part. I didn't even check him for 
weapons before I tried to cuff him. Plus, he's a pretty big guy and 
I should have waited for you to come down and back me up."

   "Yeah, you should have. You know, that's why God invented 
partners in the first place."

   "I know. And I'm just lucky you were there for me. Thanks again."

   "Yeah. Anytime, partner."

--------

   Natalie waited anxiously for Nick to arrive. He had called her at 
work, revealing nothing of his present condition, informing her only 
that he had a special surprise for her. When she heard the doorbell 
ring she rushed to the door and flung it open. Nothing could have 
prepared her for what she saw on the other side. Her shock almost 
turned into laughter because she knew that Nick's appearance could 
not be legitimate. Her first thought was that he had been in a car 
accident and perhaps because witnesses had been present, he simply 
had to pretend to be injured. She wondered how he had managed the 
great makeup job to create the discoloring bruise on his face. Her 
eyes moved downwards to take in the fact that he wore a sling to 
support his left arm, and his partner's dark brown jacket was draped 
over his shoulders to cover a blood-stained T-shirt. The crutch 
tucked under his right arm helped him to keep his weight off a 
bandaged left ankle, while Schanke stood at his side with an arm 
around his waist for added support.

   "Nick!? What happened to you?"

   "I'm okay, Nat," he told her as he and Schanke slowly worked 
their way through the door.

   "If this is your idea of okay," said Schanke, "I hate to see 
_not_ okay. Where do you want him, Nat? The bedroom or the couch?"

   "The couch is fine, Schanke," said Nick.

   Schanke helped his limping friend over to the couch and eased him 
down to a semi-reclined position that had his back against the right 
arm of the sofa and his left leg stretched out with a pillow beneath 
his injured ankle. After making sure his good buddy was comfortable, 
Schanke turned to Natalie and began telling her the full story of 
what had taken place. Nick remained silent and just listened as his 
partner went into the details from when they first made contact with 
Nathan Tyler up until they left the hospital. There were a few 
things Nick had been unaware of because he had lost consciousness. 
He heard the worry in Schanke's voice when he told about waiting for 
what seemed like an eternity for the ambulance to arrive.

   "Then, once the paramedics get there, this one chick starts 
giving me a hard time about me using my tie as a tourniquet. She 
tells me that I should have just applied direct pressure to the 
wound to stop the bleeding because tourniquets can sometimes cause 
even more problems if they're tied too tight. I try to explain to 
her just how much blood he was leaking; like he had more than his 
fair share and was trying to dump the excess. A tourniquet just 
seemed like the quickest way to get the bleeding under control."

   "Well, it's obvious," said Nat to ease his agitation, "that you 
did the right thing, Schanke. It worked, right?"

   "Yeah," he nodded, feeling vindication in his previous actions. 
"Anyway, it just seemed like they were moving in slow motion getting 
him into the back of the ambulance. Then when we get to the 
hospital, the doctors and nurses wasted a lot of time asking stupid 
questions when they should have been concentrating on helping the 
patient. I mean, what does it matter what kind of knife was used? 
The man's been stabbed. Do something! Help him!

   "And then, they kept saying that it wasn't as bad as it looked 
and that Nick was going to be all right, and that I should just calm 
down. But how is a guy suppose to calm down when he's standing there 
watching his buddy lying unconscious, looking like death warmed 
over, and no one's doing a damn thing about it? I mean, well maybe I 
did overreact just a bit, but I've lost partners before and I didn't 
want to have to go through that again."

   "Sounds like you've had a pretty rough night, Schanke," said Nat 
as she patted and rubbed his back to comfort him. "Nick may be a 
little banged up, but thanks you, he's alive and well on his way to 
a full recovery. You did a good job. But I can take over now. Why 
don't you go home and get some rest?"

   "Yeah," Schanke nodded. "I guess I am about due for a nice hot 
bath and a stiff, long drink. So, you gonna be okay, Nick?"

   Nick looked up with an appreciative smile. "Thanks to you, 
Schank. Go home to Myra and Jenny now."

   Schanke accepted his jacket back from Nick, ignoring the offer to 
have it cleaned or replaced because of the barely noticeable smears 
of blood on it. Natalie walked him to the door and gave his arm a 
gentle squeeze as she bid him good night. After his departure, Nat 
went back to Nick and stood over him with arms folded, gazing down 
at him with disapproval.

   "Was it really necessary to put Schanke through all that, Nick? 
Couldn't you have just mesmerized him or something? The poor guy 
actually thinks you could have died tonight."

   "That's just it, Nat. I _could_ have died tonight."

   "What are you saying?"

   Nick figured that a picture was worth a thousand words. He gently 
pulled his arm from the sling, then peeled back the bandage. 
Natalie's eyes zeroed in on the sutured wound, then reached down to 
finger it. When Nick let out a hiss of pain, Nat jerked her hand 
away and stared at him in confusion.

   "It hasn't healed. Why? What's going on, Nick?"

   "I'm not a vampire anymore, Nat. I'm mortal."

   Natalie's eyes grew wide in disbelief. Her hand reached out to 
his neck to feel for a pulse she hadn't expected to find, then 
allowed her fingers to linger upon warm flesh that had been 
previously cool to the touch. She gazed momentarily into his eyes 
before gently touching his bruised cheek. When she saw him flinch 
slightly at the contact, she was finally convinced.

   "How?" was the only thing she could think to say.

   Nick reached for her hand and guided her to sit beside him on the 
couch. "You remember that Chinese puzzle box that Schanke found at 
the Melville home?"

   "Yes. What about it?"

   "Remember the legend that I told you about? The one where if you 
solve the puzzle, you get to make a wish?"

   "Wait! Are you saying that it's true? You wished for mortality 
and it just happened?"

   "Apparently. Schanke had the puzzle down at the precinct. I 
picked it up and started fooling around with it. Next thing I know, 
it's opening up and there's a crystal ball inside with blue smoke 
forming the words, 'Make a wish'." Nick shook his head in awe at the 
remembered vision. "I thought it only existed in fairy tales, Nat. 
But as soon as I saw it, I knew it had to be the real thing. And 
when Schanke asked me what I was going to wish for, only one thing 
came to mind. But I never even said it out loud. I was only thinking 
it."

   "Are you saying that it read your thoughts?"

   "Looks that way."

   "So you turned mortal that instant?"

   "No, it wasn't instantaneous. I'm pretty sure I was still a 
vampire when we left the precinct. I didn't notice anything at all 
until we had reached Tyler's hideout and I tried flying up to the 
window. Got about twenty feet off the ground, then suddenly it felt 
as though I was wearing cement shoes. I couldn't stay up. Just 
dropped like a rock to the ground."

   "And that's how you sprang your ankle?"

   Nick nodded. "Yeah. Everything else is just as Schanke told you."

   "But, I don't understand, Nick. How could you not realize that 
you'd changed? Remember when we tried our little experiment with the 
lytovuenerine-B? You knew right away that your body had changed. You 
even said that you couldn't feel the vampire anymore."

   "That was the drug all along, Nat. From the moment it entered my 
vein, I experienced a multitude of sensations. After the pain and 
nausea, there was this exaggerated sense of well-being that I 
misread as my becoming mortal again. The drug had both my mind and 
body completely out of whack. But this... this feels completely 
different. It's been so long since I've been mortal, I didn't 
recognize the feeling at first." Nick grinned sheepishly and added, 
"I suppose as an ordinary human, I'm not very bright. It took me 
awhile to figure out what had happened to me."

   "Mortal, huh?" said Natalie with an amazed but delighted grin. 
"Is it permanent?"

   Nick thought briefly of Stanley Melville and his possible wish to 
lose weight. It could be as Schanke had theorized that the man 
simply didn't stipulate exactly how much weight he wanted to lose. 
Nick shrugged his shoulders lightly and said, "Well, I didn't 
specify a time limit. But you know how magic is, Nat. I might have 
only until the clock strikes midnight or it may be happily ever 
after."

   "Or until LaCroix finds out," Natalie pointed out.

   Nick nodded. "Yeah, that is a real possibility. That's one of the 
reasons I asked Schanke to bring me here instead of taking me back 
to the loft. Knowing how LaCroix likes to drop in unannounced, 
especially if he senses that I'm--" Nick stopped short, his eyes 
focusing inwards as he suddenly realized something else different 
about himself.

   "Nick?" Natalie stared at him with nervous concern. "What is it? 
What's wrong?"

   "Our link, Nat. That invisible thread that bound us together from 
my first day as a vampire. It's what always allowed him to find me 
no matter where I went."

   "Are you saying you can sense his presence? He's coming here 
now?"

   "No. I mean, I don't know. The link is gone. I just noticed that 
I can't feel him anymore. Even... even when we were such a great 
distance apart that I couldn't actually feel the vibration, I've 
always been able to sense that he still existed somewhere in the 
world, that he was still a part of me. But now... it's like he never 
was. I feel..." Nick smiled serenely as he thought of the word that 
best expressed his current emotion. "...free."

   "How can we make sure that you stay free?" asked Nat.

   Nick gave it some thought. "I'll have to leave town as soon as 
possible. Even if he can't track me through our link anymore, he 
knows my scent. He'll hunt me down like a bloodhound tracking an 
escaped convict. I'll have to make myself disappear."

   "Leave?" Nat tried to hide her disappointment at his decision, 
but the crack in her voice gave her away. She stood and turn her 
back to him as she fought to contain her blossoming heartache.

   "I'm sorry, Nat. But I can't stay. I'd be putting your life at 
risk."

   "And how far do you think you'll get the shape you're in now?"

   "Well, if you have a better idea, Nat, I'm open to suggestions."

   Natalie shrugged and shook her head helplessly. "Oh, I don't 
know. Why don't you just solve that little puzzle again and wish 
LaCroix out of your life once and for good."

   She was being totally facetious. But after speaking the words, 
she realized that she may have just stumbled onto the answer to 
their dilemma. She turned and looked at Nick, who one second later 
shared the same thought.

   "Where is it?" Nat asked as she picked up her car keys and purse 
from the coffe table.

   "I left it on my desk back at the precinct."

   "Sit tight. I'll be back as soon as I can."

   She was out of the door before he could say another word.

-------- 
End part 3 
--------

Part 4

    LaCroix had been quite busy for the past week getting the club 
ready for its grand reopening. He had promised Janette when she 
handed it over to him nearly a month ago that he would preserve it 
as a place for homeless vampires to find shelter. However, he saw 
nothing wrong with implementing a few changes to make the Raven more 
financially productive. He had been spending the night auditioning 
strippers, not an unpleasant task but not as easy as it would seem. 
He didn't want women who would eagerly agree to sexual favors for 
money because he couldn't afford to have the place raided for 
prostitution, so he had to choose the women he planned to hire very 
carefully. Single mothers with children to support and bills to pay 
seemed to be his best bet. He thought briefly of Nicholas, knowing 
that he would not approve of him turning the Raven into a strip 
club, or exploiting women, but then Nicholas never approved of 
anything he did.

   LaCroix was both irritated and relieved that Nicholas had not 
been around lately. He had been so absorbed in his human world that 
he hadn't even noticed that Janette had left town. It was just as 
well. Janette had not wanted to deal with him, had not wanted 
Nicholas to know she was leaving or where she had gone. She had 
finally had enough of his obsession with mortality and coming around 
only when he needed help solving some police case which he deemed 
more important than his vampire family. LaCroix would miss his 
daughter of the night. They had only been reunited for a year, but 
he understood her reasons for going. He had agreed to stay behind 
and care for the club and to keep an eye on Nicholas. It wasn't wise 
to leave him alone and unsupervised for very long.

   It was close to dawn and all was quiet in the club. That was when 
LaCroix felt it, or rather when he became aware that he could no 
longer feel it. The psychic thread that had kept master and child 
linked to each other for nearly eight centuries was suddenly gone. 
LaCroix stood in the middle of the dance floor and looked about in 
all directions as if he could visually pick up the tracks of the 
lost connection. He closed his eyes and concentrated as he stretched 
out with his mind, seeking, but not finding a trace of what once 
was. He tried to figure out what it could mean.

   One explanation would be that Nicholas was dead, but that didn't 
make sense. LaCroix knew that he would have been able to detect the 
pain of a stake through the heart, decapitation or a fiery death. 
The sun had yet to rise, so it was apparent that Nicholas had not 
succumbed to the dangers of daylight. But something had obviously 
happened to him. The thought that Nicholas had allowed his doctor 
friend to experiment on him once again came to mind. The last time 
she had practiced her incompetence, her so- called cure had turned 
Nicholas into a blithering and pathetic drug addict. LaCroix had 
chosen not to do anything about the good doctor's meddling at that 
time, hoping instead that Nicholas -- while under the drug's 
influence -- would dispose of Dr. Lambert himself. Unfortunately, 
that was not the outcome.

   It could be that the doctor was at it again. Perhaps she had come 
up with another hair-brained treatment to try on Nicholas, one which 
had temporarily blocked the psychic bond to his master. LaCroix 
shook his head in disdain. "Enough is enough, Dr. Lambert!" he 
snarled to himself. He had been more than patient with this latest 
infatuation of Nicholas, but if she wasn't stopped soon, she might 
very well lead to his son's destruction. Once again, the master 
vampire knew that it was up to him to save Nicholas from himself. 
He'd have to go find his impetuous child and put an end to his 
fruitless search for mortality once and for all.

--------

   In her haste to fulfill her quest for the magic puzzle, Natalie 
was already behind the wheel of her car by the time she realized 
that she had just left her incapacitated houseguest all alone and 
virtually helpless up in her apartment. She hadn't considered the 
early morning rush-hour traffic or how long it might take to battle 
her way through it to the precinct and back. Although it was 
possible that Nick might just sleep the whole time she was away, 
Natalie felt a little guilty about abandoning him. She could have at 
least asked if he needed anything. There could even be a 
prescription he needed to have filled. As she now recalled, it did 
seem as though Nick had wanted to say something to her as she flew 
out of the door -- which by the way -- she had neglected to lock on 
her way out. 

   "All right, all right!" she responded to that little voice which 
goaded her into going back and making sure Nick was okay. That 
little voice must have known something because just as she reached 
her apartment door, she heard a crashing noise from the opposite 
side. "Nick?" she called out worriedly as she threw open the door, 
her heart racing in fear of something gone wrong.

   She found the object of her concern lying in a tangled heap on 
the floor, cursing vehemently as her cat Sidney scurried into the 
bedroom. In his bid to leave the couch, Nick had tripped over the 
previously unseen animal and in the process, had overturned the 
coffee table, dumping over a vase of flowers and a few other items 
in his wake. Natalie scrambled to his side, quickly pushing all 
obstacles out of the way.

   "What happened? Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

   Nick couldn't keep the hiss of pain from escaping his lips. 
Luckily, his wounded arm had been unaffected by the fall, but he did 
succeed in further aggravating his sprain ankle. "Tripped over the 
cat," he explained tersely. "But I'm okay," he insisted even though 
his hard to control groans told another story.

   "You don't sound okay," Nat pointed out as she helped him into a 
sitting position on the floor. "If you're hurt, Nick, you need to 
tell me."

   After settling himself with a couple of deep breaths, Nick took 
assessment of his true condition. He looked at Nat and answered her 
honestly. "My ankle. I accidentally put my full weight on it and now 
it doesn't feel so good. Not that it was feeling all that great to 
begin with."

   Natalie set the coffee table upright again, then placed one of 
the pillows from the sofa on it. "Here, let's just get you comfy 
again." She wrapped both arms around his waist and eased him back 
onto the couch, then lifted his right leg and gently nestled it onto 
the pillow on the table. "How's that?" she asked after stuffing 
another smaller pillow behind his back.

   "Better," Nick sighed. "Thanks. What are you doing back so soon?" 
he asked. "I thought you were going down to the precinct."

   "I was. But I ran out of here so fast, I didn't stop to think 
that you might need something. So, what were you doing getting up? 
You were suppose to stay off your feet."

   "I was going over to the window. I wanted to see the sunrise. 
Forgot I wasn't as light on my feet anymore." Nick jerked his leg 
and grunted loudly as a spasm of pain suddenly shot through his 
ankle.

   "Did the doctor give you anything to take for the pain?" Natalie 
asked.

   Nick frowned when he realized just what had become of his 
prescription drugs. "I left it in the pocket of Schanke's jacket."

   "Well, I've got something that should help." Nat went into the 
kitchen and came back a moment later with a couple of pills and a 
glass of water which she offered to her guest.

   Without question, Nick accepted the pills and popped them into 
his mouth. It wasn't until he tried to swallow them along with a sip 
of water did he realize that he had no experience in the art of pill 
taking. Both the pills and water went down the wrong way, leaving 
him gagging and coughing in an attempt to clear his airway.

   "Nick!" Natalie took the glass away from him and set it out of 
the way, then began forcefully patting his back to help him expel 
that which his body saw as foreign and unwelcome.

   After a moment, his throat was clear and he leaned back against 
the sofa, drawing in deep breaths, his eyes closed and his features 
twisted in a mixture of relief and frustration. Nat stood and 
studied him carefully, finally getting a clearer view of the new 
Nick Knight. He was no longer the invincible, immortal vampire with 
superhuman strength and capabilities she had come to know so well. 
He was mortal now, slightly damaged and at present somewhat 
overwhelmed by his brand new existence.

   Natalie reached out her hand to caress his unmarked cheek. "I'm 
sorry, Nick. I shouldn't have left you alone like that. I don't know 
what I was thinking. You're practically helpless now, aren't you?"

   Nick's eyes slid partially open as he leaned into her touch. 
"I've wanted this for so long," he spoke with a shuddering voice. 
"But I'd be lying, Nat if I said I didn't miss my powers. Instant 
healing definitely has its advantages."

   "No doubt. I take it, you've never had to swallow pills before?"

   "Only pretended to."

   "Well, don't feel bad. It's a subtle art. Not everyone gets the 
hang of it right away. I'll be right back."

   Natalie disappeared into the kitchen once again, this time 
returning with a glass of fizzling water. She swirled the liquid 
around in the glass a bit and waited a moment to give the fizzling a 
chance to die down some. When she handed the glass to Nick, he eyed 
the contents suspiciously.

   "Trust me," Nat smiled. So he did, drinking it all down and 
frowning slightly at the salty flavor. But at least he didn't choke 
on it. "Good boy," Nat said as she took the empty glass from him and 
gave his hair a quick ruffling.

   "Nat? Can you help me to the window?"

   "Nick, I don't think--"

   "I have to know, Nat if this is... complete." It wasn't enough 
that he had the physical attributes and limitations of a mortal. He 
had to know if his reaction to sunlight was normal.

   It was a bit of a struggle using Nat as a crutch, but Nick 
eventually made it over to the window. He steadied himself on one 
foot as he held on to Nat's shoulder and waited for her to draw open 
the curtains. He could see the early morning light just peeking over 
the tops of buildings in the far distance. They stood there for 
several moments waiting for the sun to rise further into the sky, 
until at last a golden ray streamed into the window. Nick hesitantly 
reached his hand out into the ray's path, then beamed a smile at 
Natalie when all he felt was warmth.

   "It's official," he grinned.

   "Congratulations, Nick. Welcome back to the human race."

   Nick pulled Natalie closer to him and kissed the top of her head. 
"Thank you." He was content to stay in front of the window and let 
the sun bathe him in its golden warmth, but the peaceful moment was 
shattered by the ringing of the phone.

   "Oh, who could that be," said Nat, wondering how she could reach 
the phone and not have Nick topple without her support. She decided 
to simply let the answering machine handle the call. However, when 
instructed to leave a message, none came. There were a few seconds 
of silence on the other end of the line, then the caller hung up. 
"Wonder who that was," Natalie pondered aloud. "I'm sure Grace or 
someone from work would have left a message."

   "LaCroix," Nick stated with certainty. "He's trying to find me. 
He's realized that our link has been broken, that something has 
happened to me. He'll probably think that you had something to do 
with this."

   "You mean because of the experiment we tried before?"

   "Yes. He was uncharacteristically understanding then. I suppose 
it was only because he knew no serious harm had been done. I don't 
think he's going to be quite so forgiving this time."

   "So what are you saying? That he's going to come after me?"

   Nick thought about the matter carefully, attempting to put 
himself in his master's place just for a moment. "Eventually. Right 
now his main concern is finding me. More than likely, he went to the 
loft looking for me. Since I'm not there, he'd assume that I must be 
with you. If you had answered the phone just then, that would have 
told him all he needed to know."

   "Well, if he's at the loft," said Nat with a slight shrug, "then 
that means we're safe. The sun is up now so he'll be trapped there 
all day. That gives us plenty of time to get to the puzzle and solve 
it, and make that wish. Right?"

   Nick didn't want to worry her with the news that LaCroix wouldn't 
let a little thing like the sun stop him from seeking his goal. The 
master vampire had shocked him already by appearing at his loft in 
the middle of the day and placing himself in direct sunlight to 
demonstrate his superiority.

   "Nick? We are safe for now, aren't we?"

   Nick spoke softly so as not to frighten her too much. "I think 
it's a good idea that we leave right away, Nat. We'll stop off at 
the precinct to get the puzzle. But in case things don't work out, 
we need to be prepared to keep going."

   "Keep going as in--?"

   "Leaving Toronto and not coming back."

   Natalie didn't bother to argue with him. If he thought there was 
even the slightest chance that LaCroix might stop by during daylight 
hours, that was good enough for her. As quickly as she could, Nat 
packed up the cat and a few personal items, and they were soon on 
their way.   

-------------- 
Baghdad - 1258 
--------------

   "Now that I have explained about the magic wish box, I shall tell 
you the story that goes along with it."

   "Wouldn't you like to make yourself more comfortable first?" 
asked Nicholas, as he patted the empty spot next to him on the bed.

   "I am most comfortable as I am," stated Shalimar, intent on 
keeping a safe distance from the vampire.

   Nicholas chuckled lightly, then tucked his hands behind his head 
as he settled back against the soft pillows. "Then, by all means, 
continue with the tale," he bid her.

   "Many years ago near the land of the pharaohs, lived the simple 
people of a small village. One day, the village was invaded by an 
army of soldiers who plundered and burned the homes to the ground. 
The villagers they did not kill, they encased in chains and took 
them to be sold as slaves. Out into the desert, they marched the 
slaves, giving them no food and very little water. Many faltered 
along the way and were left behind to perish in the barren 
wasteland. Just as the sun was going down on the fifth day of their 
trek, they came upon a caravan of merchants headed to market. The 
camels were loaded down with many fine and wonderful things, 
including food and wine. The soldiers used their weapons and great 
might to take what they wanted. They pulled items from the packs, 
and if it were not to their liking, they tossed it to the ground. 

   "Now, among the new slaves was Demarcus, not quite a man, but no 
longer a boy. As he lay resting on the ground with the other slaves, 
one of the soldiers -- more interested in finding another jug of 
wine than anything else -- tossed items from one of the camel's 
packs over his shoulder, not caring where they landed. One discarded 
item landed beside Demarcus. There was just enough give in his 
chains for him to reach the item. It was too dark for him to see 
clearly what it was, though he could tell it was a box of some sort. 
He thought it might be something of value which he could use to buy 
his freedom later, so he hid it away by burying it in the sand 
beneath him.

   "Later that night, when all was quiet and everyone asleep, 
Demarcus pulled the little box from the sand. He still could not see 
what it was he held in the darkness, but he ran his hands all over, 
seeking a way to open it. His fingers pulled and pushed at the box, 
and twisted it in directions it seemed to want to go, when all of a 
sudden, the box began to click. He felt it moving about by itself in 
his hands. It soon opened, revealing a crystal sphere which he would 
not have been able to see had it not begin to glow in the darkness. 
Demarcus was quick to cover it with his hands so that the glowing 
would not attract attention. He glanced around and saw that no one 
else was awake, so he parted his hands slightly to look upon the 
crystal. He saw a swirling of blue smoke which began to form symbols 
he was unfamiliar with. He thought how pretty the crystal was and 
couldn't help but whisper the word aloud. And as he spoke it, the 
symbols in the sphere changed to those of his own language. He 
understood then that he was to make a wish. Can you imagine what he 
wished for?" Shalimar paused in her storytelling to quiz her 
audience.

   "If he had at least half a brain, he would wish for his freedom," 
replied Nicholas with the only answer that made sense to him.

   "Is that what you would have wished for if you were in his 
place?"

   "Of course. No man wants to be a slave."

   Shalimar nodded her head in agreement. "But what of the rest of 
his people? Should he not wish for their freedom as well?"

   Nicholas frowned at the question, realizing that indeed it was 
the right thing to do, and he felt a sliver of shame that he had not 
thought of that himself. "Yes, he should wish freedom for them all."

   "Indeed, he should have, but alas, he did not. His first thoughts 
were of himself and how he wished not to become a slave. The glow of 
the sphere died down and the box closed itself up. Demarcus heard a 
noise and thought someone might be coming, so he quickly pushed the 
box into the sand and laid his head down. Soon, he fell asleep. When 
next, he opened his eyes, it was midday and as he stood, he saw that 
his chains were gone. However, so was everyone and everything else. 
He was all alone in the desert. He realized that the soldiers had 
probably tried to wake him, but he slept so heavily that they 
thought he was dead or near death and decided to leave him behind as 
they had done some of the others. You see, his wish had come true. 
Demarcus now had his freedom... but nothing else."

   "He still had the magic box, did he not?"

   "He had hidden the magic box in the sand. When he dug where he 
thought it should be, he did not find it, because when the soldiers 
removed his chains, they had placed him in a different position than 
when he first fell asleep. The box may have been found and taken 
away by the soldiers or it could still be buried somewhere beneath 
the surface of the sand. Demarcus had the choice of crawling around 
the hot dunes beneath a blistering sun, seeking that which might 
never be found or he could begin walking towards the city, still two 
days away and possibly his only chance for salvation." 

-------- 
Present 
--------

   The sudden, loud tapping on the car's window snapped Nick quickly 
back to reality and nearly caused him to leave his skin behind. With 
a hand grasping at his thumping heart, he sighed in relief when he 
saw who was trying to get his attention. While forcing his sharp 
breathing under control, he rolled down the window to speak to his 
partner.

   "Schanke, you nearly scared me half to death. What are you doing 
here? I thought you were headed home."

   "I was. But I figured, since I was in the neighborhood, I might 
as well go ahead and get the paperwork over with. Plus, I decided to 
put in for a little time off. You know, since you'll be out of 
action for awhile, I thought it would be a good time to take a mini-
vacation. I've been putting in a lot of overtime lately and the wife 
and kid hardly recognize me anymore. Myra and Jenny were already 
planning to visit the grandparents down on the farm, so I figure I 
might as well join them."

   "Sounds good," Nick smiled. "I hope you all have a great time."

   "So what are you doing here?"

   "Oh, um, Nat accidentally took some files home that she was 
suppose to drop off here earlier. I just came along for the ride."

   "The cat came along for the ride too?" asked Schanke with a nod 
towards Natalie's pet in the backseat confined in a small cage.

   "Dropping it off at the vet. Time for its checkup."

   "Oh, yeah, that reminds me." Schanke reached into this jacket 
pocket and pulled out a small white bag. "You forgot your 
prescription."

   "Ah, so I did." As Nick reached his hand out to receive the bag, 
Schanke noticed the morning sun beaming harmlessly across the pale 
skin.

   "The sun," Schanke pointed out. "That didn't bother you?"

   "No, it didn't."

   "That's what you wished for!" Schanke stated excitedly. "You 
wished your sun allergy away, didn't you?"

   "Yes," Nick nodded slightly unable to hide his secret joy any 
longer.

   Schanke seemed a bit apprehensive. "This isn't going to be like 
last time, is it? You're not going to go all wacko and start eating 
everything in sight, are you?"

   Nick chuckled lightly. "No, Schanke. This isn't the effects of 
drugs this time. This is... a true miracle."

   "Wow! That's great! I'm really happy for you. That 'make a wish 
deal' really works."

   "Seems to."

   "That means you've got two more wishes coming to you?"

   "Maybe."

   "And that's why you're here, right? You came to get that puzzle 
so you can make another wish. You want to be healed overnight, is 
that it?"

   "No, it's not like that, Schanke--"

   "Look, Nick, I know you're not used to being less than perfect, 
you hate depending on others to help you out, you hate not being 
able to drive your own car, but that's life. Things like that 
sometimes happen. I know it's real enticing to just make a wish and 
make all your problems go away, but you have to think about the 
consequences. Remember what happened to Melville? His first wish was 
great and the second one was okay, but the third one--"

   "Schanke--" Nick raised his voice to demand his partner's 
attention, but once he had it, he wasn't sure of what to say to him.

   "Nick, I threw it away," Schanke blurted out his confession.

   "You what?"

   "When I went in, I found one of the night shift guys, Davis, 
fooling around with it. The guy should have gone home over an hour 
ago, but he was sitting there basically hypnotized by the thing 
trying to solve it. I snatched it from him and told him to go home 
to his wife and kids. He looked at me like he didn't realize he even 
had a family. I'm telling you, Nick, I've got a bad feeling about 
that thing, so I tossed it in the dumpster out back."

   Both their heads turned at the sound of the garbage truck as it 
pulled into the rear parking lot to collect its load. Nick was torn 
between begging his partner to run after it to rescue the puzzle and 
leaping out of the car and hopping after it himself. Solving the 
Chinese puzzle box and wishing LaCroix out of his life seemed to be 
the only real hope of retaining his mortality, but now that hope was 
sailing away in the back of a garbage truck on the way to the city 
dump.

   "You don't hate me, do you?" Schanke asked, almost fearing the 
reply.

   "Of course not. It's okay, Schanke," Nick assured him. "Don't 
worry about it. I've got what I've always wanted. I'll just settle 
for the one miracle."

   "Good. I was afraid you might be... well anyway, what's done is 
done. Hey, I gotta run. I'll see you when I get back from cow 
country, okay?"

   Nick realized that this would be the very last time he would see 
his partner. He and Natalie would have to disappear without a trace 
now, leaving Schanke and everyone else to wonder whatever had become 
of them. He hated to have to do that to his friend. It had always 
been the hardest part about being immortal; deserting people he had 
grown close to. He had to wonder just how many of his past 
acquaintances had wasted their time trying to find him after one of 
his famous disappearing acts.

   "Nick? You okay?"

   "Yeah. Just a little tired is all."

   "You look it. When Nat comes back, have her get you back home 
pronto so you can get some rest."

   "I will. Ah, Schanke?"

   "Yeah?"

   "Natalie and I will be going on a little road trip."

   "Oh?"

   "We...uh...want to spend some time together away from the city 
and all."

   Schanke smiled knowingly. "You and Nat? Finally!"

   "Yes, finally," Nick nodded. "Now that the sun allergy isn't a 
problem, we thought we might expand our relationship. I don't know 
how long we'll be gone, so if you don't hear from us for a little 
while, I didn't want you to worry."

   Schanke grinned cheerily. "You and Nat take your time, Nick. Just 
don't go getting lost. I plan to be best man at your wedding."

   "You're already the best man, Schank."

   Schanke patted his friend's shoulder in a gesture of farewell. 
"Take it easy, Nick. I'll catch you later."

   "Good-bye, Schanke." As he watched his friend and partner get 
into his car and drive away, Nick whispered solemnly to himself, 
"I'll miss you, partner."

-------- 
end part 4 
-------- 

Part 5

   Soon after Schanke got into his car and drove off, Natalie made 
her way out of the precinct. Nick was trying to figure a way to 
break the news to her, how to tell her that from now on, they would 
have to run for their lives because LaCroix would not rest until he 
had found them both. He wasn't quite as concerned with his own fate. 
He knew the type of punishment his master would inflict upon him, 
but what he would do to Natalie, Nick didn't even want to consider.

   When Nat plopped down in the driver's seat and dangled a plastic 
evidence bag up by one corner, Nick opened his mouth to speak but 
was momentarily shocked into silence when he saw what she held.

   "Nat!" he blurted, finally finding his voice. "How? Schanke said 
he threw it in the garbage."

   "He did. When I first went in, I saw him giving Davis a hard time 
for fooling around with it, so that made me a little hesitant about 
asking him for it. Instead, I just followed him around without his 
knowledge to see what he'd do with it. I saw him toss it in the 
dumpster, and when the coast was clear, I dug it out. Luckily, I 
carry around plastic gloves and bags with me everywhere." Natalie 
frowned slightly as she studied the debris covering the puzzle. 
"Looks like it met with the used coffee filters and leftover pizza, 
among other things. We'll need to get it cleaned up before you 
handle it."

   Nick took the bag from her and studied the soiled cube through 
the clear plastic. "You know why Schanke threw this away, Nat?"

   "No, not really. He did seem a little -- oh, I don't know -- 
spooked by it."

   "It's because of what happened to Stanley Melville. Schanke 
thinks something bad will happen to me if I use it to make more 
wishes."

   "Well, of course, you have to be careful what you wish for. You 
wished for mortality. Nothing's wrong with that. It's just that you 
were taken off guard. That's why you got hurt. But now that you know 
what to expect, you can approach this wishing business logically and 
not make mistakes. Right?"

   "Yeah, I suppose," Nick answered distractedly as his mind almost 
began to wander back to the legend he'd been told so very long ago.

   "Or maybe you don't want to wish LaCroix out of your life." 
Natalie's words brought him instantly back to the present.

   "Why would you say that?"

   "Oh, I don't know. Maybe being mortal isn't all that you hoped it 
would be. I imagine it can't be all that easy after centuries of 
having superhuman strength and supernatural powers, to just give 
them all up overnight. It could be that on some subconscious level, 
you want LaCroix to be able to find you so that he can turn you back 
into a vampire."

   "Nat, you can't really think that, can you?" Nick spoke with 
pained disbelief. "I've wanted to go back to being mortal almost 
from the very start. I've spent hundreds of years trying to find a 
way back. Yes, I'll admit that it's quite an adjustment going from 
having special powers to feeling as helpless as a baby. But I 
realize that this is only temporary. In time I'll heal and I'll 
adapt. I _want_ this, Nat. Don't ever doubt how much I want this."

   Natalie held her head shamefully. "I'm sorry, Nick. I didn't mean 
to doubt you. It just sounded slightly like you didn't even want to 
try. Look, I know that this was all my idea, and that I'm probably 
being a little pushy. So if you feel uncomfortable about solving the 
puzzle again, that somehow things might get worse, then don't do it. 
We'll just go to 'Plan B' like we discussed on our way here."

   'Plan B' involved abandoning there lives in Toronto and trying to 
keep a few steps ahead of LaCroix. That would make it incredibly 
hard to settle down and raise a family -- the other thing which Nick 
strongly desired. 'Plan A' was more idyllic, in which he would solve 
the puzzle, make a wish, then they would be free to live their lives 
in peaceful harmony. Nick did have a slightly uneasy feeling about 
the puzzle, but if he did as Natalie suggested and be careful about 
making his wish, all should be well.

   "I think we'll give 'Plan A' a shot," Nick decided at last. 
"After all, if it wasn't meant to be, this thing would already be on 
its way to the garbage dump." Pushing away the mildly disturbing 
doubts he harbored both about the puzzle and their immediate future, 
Nick gave Natalie an encouraging smile, one that said to her that 
everything was going to be all right.

--------

   It had been a long night for Schanke. He was hungry and dog-tired 
when he stepped through the kitchen door from the garage. Even 
though he'd noted the absence of his wife's car, he automatically 
called out to let Myra know that he was home. Stopping in front of 
the refrigerator to read the note she'd left for him hanging from a 
strawberry-shaped magnet, he discovered that Myra had taken their 
daughter for an early morning orthodontist checkup. He vaguely 
remembered her mentioning something about trying to get the 
appointment moved up so they could leave on their trip to Grandma's 
before noon. She had tried to talk him into going with them to visit 
the in-laws, but he used the standard excuse that he couldn't get 
away from the job. The truth was that he got easily bored down on 
the farm with its peaceful, easy-going atmosphere. However, after 
the night he'd just experienced, a little peace and quiet seemed 
pretty inviting.

   Schanke opened the refrigerator and contemplated his breakfast 
choices. The leftover meatloaf from last night's dinner seemed as 
good a meal as any. He grabbed the baking dish it was in, and as he 
closed the refrigerator door, he was startled by the sudden presence 
of someone standing on the other side. The container slipped from 
his hand but was quickly caught before it ever had the chance of 
hitting the floor. His heart thumping loudly, Schanke stared in 
shock as the tall, pale gentleman dressed in black stood beside him, 
holding onto his intended breakfast.

   "How -- what--"

   "Detective Schanke, do forgive me if I frightened you. That was 
not my intention."

   Schanke took a couple of steps backwards, clutching at his racing 
heart as he sought to calm his nerves. "You nearly scared the life 
out of me. How'd you get in anyway?"

   "Your wife allowed me entry. I explained that I needed to speak 
with you and she assured me that you would be along soon and that it 
was quite all right for me to wait for your arrival while she ran 
her errands."

   "Myra -- my wife -- said it was okay? She just let you in and 
said it was okay to stay here?"

   "I assured her that I was harmless and that I would not touch any 
of your families' private possessions. I only wanted to speak to you 
about Nicholas."

   "Oh, Nick." Suddenly it didn't feel so weird having the man in 
his home. It was the guy from the radio show that Nick listened to 
all the time. Schanke had visited him down at the radio station 
after being involved in a shooting incident. He had been so upset 
after the shooting that he had begun to imagine that Nick was a 
vampire. It took the enigmatic man with the somniferous voice to 
help him face his own insecurities. Turned out that not only was he 
a giver of good advice, he was also a relative of Nick's. Either a 
step father or uncle -- Schanke never bothered to question the exact 
relationship -- but the man did admit to being practically all the 
family Nick had.

   Schanke took the baking dish from him and set it on the counter, 
then he motioned for his guest to sit at the kitchen table with him. 
"So I guess you've heard about the attack on Nick last night?"

   "I had a premonition that something unfavorable may have befallen 
Nicholas, but as of yet I've been unable to contact him. Perhaps you 
know where he might be found."

   "Well, not exactly. I dropped him off at Nat's this morning after 
they fixed him up at the hospital. Oh, it's nothing serious," 
Schanke was quick to add when he saw the bewildered expression on 
LaCroix's face. "He kind of got in a minor tussle with a suspect. 
But he was looking pretty decent last time I saw him."

   "At Dr. Lambert's apartment?"

   "No, actually, it was at the precinct in the parking lot. They 
had stopped by so Nat could drop off some papers. Nick said that 
they planned to take a little road trip together now that his sun 
allergy problem was gone. Said that if I didn't hear from them for a 
while, not to worry."

   "You say he's cured of his sun allergy, is he?"

   "Yeah," Schanke answered excitedly. He started to explain just 
how it came about, then suddenly realized how idiotic he'd sound   
with talk about magic puzzles and granted wishes. Instead, he 
decided to fudge a little on the truth. "Nat had been trying to come 
up with some kind of wonder drug for him, so I guess she finally 
worked out all the bugs. That Natalie, she's a pretty smart cookie."

    "Perhaps too smart for her own good," LaCroix hissed.

    The look of pure hatred on his uninvited visitor's face made 
Schanke a little nervous. "Yeah, well... look, I've had a pretty 
long night and I really could use some rest, so if you don--"

   "I'll need your help to find him," LaCroix cut him off abruptly.

   "Find who? You mean Nick? Like I said, he and Nat are spending 
some time together. I figure they're probably be back after the 
weekend."

   LaCroix knew he could simply hypnotize the man into assisting 
him, but he thought it might go a bit smoother if he impressed upon 
him a certain urgency. "It's a matter of life and death," he 
informed him.

   "Whose?"

   "You recall Janette?"

   "Oh yeah, do I! Is something wrong with her?"

   "She happens to be quite ill," LaCroix lied convincingly. "She 
and Nicholas share the same rare blood type."

   "And she needs him to give her a transfusion?"

   "It would greatly improve her chances of a full recovery."

   Schanke nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I'm sure Nick would want to 
be there for her. They seemed to have a pretty... interesting 
relationship."

   "Then you will assist me in locating Nicholas?"

   "Well, you've got that radio show," Schanke pointed out. "Nick 
listens to it every chance he gets. All you have to do is make a 
couple of announcements, and he'll hear it and give you a call."

   "Unfortunately, that won't be until late tonight," LaCroix 
countered. "Perhaps in the meantime you might use your position with 
the police force to put out an All Points Bulletin, I believe it's 
called? After all, it is a medical emergency. And the quicker we 
act...."

   "Yeah, you're right," Schanke agreed. "I'll call it in now." As 
he stood and headed for the kitchen phone hanging on the wall, he 
noted out loud how much easier it would be if Nick had taken his 
Cadillac. "That thing sticks out like a neon sign, but Nat has one 
of the more popular models around. But don't worry," Schanke added 
as he dialed the phone, "we'll get Toronto's best on it."

   "Thank you, Detective Schanke. Your cooperation is greatly 
appreciated."

--------

   The first stop for Nick and Natalie was at the veterinarian 
clinic where they had planned to drop off Sidney for what Nat hoped 
would be a very temporary stay. When Nick saw the rather small 
facility and the cramped cages, he couldn't help but have misgivings 
about leaving the animal behind. And when he saw the longing in 
Nat's eyes combined with the fear that she may never see