Hard Bargain
by Fran Hutchinson

Greeting the day alone wasn't anything new to Maura.  Though they
kept pretty much the same hours, Nick seldom lolled in bed as she
did.  She'd find him downstairs at his computer or case notebook or
on the phone, or else he'd be gone off to the precinct if it was past
sunset or to visit with Natalie.  No messages or notes were left
about, she just knew where he'd gone and knew he'd either pick her up
at Raven after closing or call to let her know he wouldn't.  But
today was different.  After interrupting her angry confrontation with
LaCroix in the parking lot of Raven the night before, Nick had
followed the other vampire into the night to conclude their debate
once and for all.  LaCroix had persisted relentlessly in his demands
that Nick give up his "charade" and move on to travel the world again
with him, "above mortality, not aspiring to it.  Maura couldn't blame
Nick for not letting it drop this time.  LaCroix had materialized
several times since Christmas;  obviously aware that Nick's
relationship with Maura had taken on an added physical connection,
annoyingly mortal and undeniably - in LaCroix's mind --threatening to
his agenda.  He hadn't harmed Maura since that first time, but each
visit he paid her was more unpleasant than the last.  Sensing his
window of opportunity was slamming shut (though Maura couldn't fathom
he thought it was open at all) LaCroix had no patience for charm or
persuasion.  When he showed up last night Nick had absentmindedly
left his car keys on the bar, and Maura was waiting by the Caddy for
his return.  Somehow she wasn't surprised to see the red eyes coming
at her from the shadows and the never ending-diatribe begin yet
again, without preamble.

"He has known thousands like you, and will know thousands more. 
This paltry 'life' of yours is an insult to our kind."

Maura rolled her eyes and shrugged.  What to do except brush him
off?  He was like the world's biggest mosquito, in more ways than
one.  "He seems okay with it.  Even Janette says he seems almost at
peace now.  And I know he's left behind most of the ugly parts of
what you made him, and takes on the best parts of mortality that he
can manage.  Nobody but me will tell him he can have it both ways,
but I seem to be enough."

"For a smart woman, you fool yourself too easily.  We are joined by
blood, Nicholas and I.  Mortal emotion pales beside it.  What you see
as permanent is the blink of our eye, a momentary distraction from an
existence you can never share with him."

"I never said 'permanent'.  Nothing is permanent.  My life is the
blink of your eye.  But my life is all I need, and all he wants to
share.  Don't forget he's joined by blood to me, as well.  Try again
when I'm gone, you have the time.  But by then you know it'll be too
late.  Whatever dark is left in him from you will be gone by then. 
He'll be free for good, no matter what anyone calls him, and he will
do and be what he chooses. It's not me you're fighting, it's Nick. 
Let it go, LaCroix, go and find another protégé to share your dying
traditions with.  Or come back in fifty years or so, and give it
another shot.  He'll be easy to find."

LaCroix advanced with a look of utter hatred and rage.  She'd seen
it before, and knew it was no game, but couldn't manage to be afraid.
"You can't hurt me, you can only kill me.  And if you do, you'll
never have him."

LaCroix stayed the hand that reached for this annoying bitch's
throat.  How he would have loved to kill her, to remove this
distracting pet permanently and thus remove Nicolas' lingering excuse
for clinging to his newest incarnation.  "He has forgotten his true
nature, that's all.  I have neglected our connection for too long,
and Nicolas has lost his way.  He would quickly rejoin me once he
again tastes the richness of our former existence."

"Oh yes, the conversion fantasy.  He's misguided is all.  Like those
who want to make him mortal, you think he only needs to pay proper
attention to want what you 'offer'.  Well there is nothing you have
that he didn't have his fill of a and walk away from a hundred years
ago.  Pathetic, that's what you are.  Old and pathetic and on the
wane," she gestured over her shoulder.  "Janette has done quite well
living in two worlds.  True, she keeps her vampire nature but has
found a place for herself and others of the Community to be safe
without needing to be on the run forever.  You," she walked a slow
circle around the barely-contained vampire, "are an antique in modern
couture.  Gather dust somewhere else, LaCroix, you won't find what
you want here."

The door to the club slammed as Nick approached.  "Oh, won't I?" La
Croix purred softly.  "You know as well as I do, Nicholas can't
resist his desperate need to 'do the right thing'... we'll see who
will find what, ma doucette."  His burlesque of Nick's favorite
endearment made Maura's skin crawl.

"LaCroix," Nick's voice was flat and cold as the late January ice
under their feet, "come to socialize?"  He opened the car door for
Maura, but she didn't move.  LaCroix kept his eyes on her as he spoke.

"I've come to discuss this difficult juncture in our relationship,
Nicholas.  I think perhaps instead of persuading you to embrace our
former friendship I am driving you further away.  I realize now I
have been guilty of some... excesses."  

"Even if you had anything to say that remotely interested me, now is
hardly the time."  He gently pushed Maura into the Caddy and shut the
door before turning back to LaCroix.

"Your Maura isn't afraid of me," and LaCroix's first use of her
proper name triggered an alarm in Maura.  "Why should you be?"

Nick laughed.  "Afraid, don't flatter yourself."

"I mean," LaCroix cajoled, "afraid of listening to what I have to
say.  Afraid it might make sense.  Afraid you might once again long
for the part of yourself you can't quite shed.  That perhaps you
don't want to."

Nick tried to push past as he rolled his eyes.  "Save it, it's been
a long night."

The older vampire seized Nick by the shoulder, who shook him off
with a hiss and a drop of fangs.

"See how easy it is?" LaCroix observed mildly.  "Always there, just
beneath the skin."  Now he turned both hands palm up, as if in
supplication.  "Nicholas, please, I thought perhaps with so much of
your new life in order you might be in sufficient good mood to talk
one last time."

Nick paused on his way to the driver's side door.  "'Last' time?" 
His eyes narrowed.

Inside the car, Maura tensed.  LaCroix was laying the snare.

"I'm weary of the endless battle royale, Nicholas, I am weary of
thrashing each other into the walls.  If I cannot persuade you with
my arguments this one last time, I will set you free forever."

Don't believe him, he is a lying sack of ancient shit, Maura
desperately tried to beam her thoughts to Nick.  She could tell by
the look on his face he was tempted to comply.  No, no, even a
nanosecond of hesitation and LaCroix would own him, because he was
right.  Nick would have to do the "right" thing, the single
attraction he was powerless to resist.

The two of them took a step away, LaCroix's hand now resting
companionably on Nick's shoulder.  After a moment, Nick tapped on the
window and Maura wound it down.

"Just a few minutes, okay?  Then we can go home."  He responded to
her look of dismayed disbelief.  "It's not as if he never did
anything for me, Maura.  We have saved each other, he and I and
Janette, a thousand times and experienced things together you can't
imagine.  That deserves at least a final word."

"Oh, Bats…" She knew arguing wouldn't make a dent, so she simply
pleaded with him, keeping one eye on the smiling LaCroix.  "Don't do
it, please, just this once I'm asking you to trust me and walk away
from being 'reasonable'.  Just once, Nick, be unreasonable and do the
wrong thing, for me.  I'm begging you."  

Nick smiled patiently, squeezed her hand where she gripped his wrist
with desperate strength.  "C'mon, Sweet, this isn't like you.  Don't
let him scare you, there's nothing going to happen."  He leaned in
the window and gave her a kiss.  "Gimme twenty minutes.  Go back
inside and keep warm, I'll come back for you."  And he walked with
LaCroix until they disappeared into the dark.  That had been at about
2am.  

By 3am Miklos and Vachon had cleaned up and closed up the bar, and
the front doors were locked.  Nick hadn't returned.

"Vachon, will you please see Maura home in that charming voiture of
yours?  Nicolas will receive a suitably stern answer to his tardiness
when he returns."

Maura asked her remaining coworkers, "Are you all sure Nick didn't
call?  Maybe the message machine is screwed up."

Janette put a hand on her arm.  "Cherie, trust me, I know these two
very well.  LaCroix is exceedingly long-winded, and Nicolas would
allow him to use up his last word in hopes of being rid of him." 
Privately, she was curious.  It was odd of him to neglect his
responsibilities, and he considered his relationship with Maura to be
a primary one.

"I dunno, it just feels weird," Maura told them uncertainly.

Miklos gestured around the empty club with an ironic laugh.  "If it
weren't for 'weird', we'd be out of business."

So she let Vachon take her home.  The message light wasn't blinking
when she got in the loft, but she found a single red rose on the
table next to the machine.  The note on Nick's monogrammed linen
stationery was in French, in Nick's unmistakably elegant hand. 
"N'oublies jamais que je t'aime."  What the hell... she felt a cold
core of nausea in the pit of her stomach.  

"Never forget I love you," she repeated to Janette in English, and
the voice on the other end of the phone betrayed just a hint of
confusion.

"But cherie, what could be wrong with that?"  

"Oh for christsake, Janette, you know we're not like that!  No
cutesy little love notes left around, none of the romance novel crap."

"Just fully decorated Christmas trees, and heartfelt love songs, eh?"

Maura's voice went flat.  "You know what I mean.  Something is going
on here, we both know this is just not Nick.  And why would he come
all the way home just to leave me a note?"

A second's silence.  "D'accord.  Yes, it is unusual.  But nothing is
usual where LaCroix is concerned.  You cannot expect to predict
Nicolas' reaction to him when even he cannot."

"Has he talked to you about this?  Nick, I mean, has he said
anything that might clue me in even now about what's going on?"

"No, he has not even mentioned LaCroix's name since his last
appearance."

"Yeah, right."

Janette reacted sharply to the obvious sarcasm.  "Maura, do not
insult me.  I have been connected to Nicolas for eight hundred years,
and I know the heart you say he believes he does not have.  No matter
if I understand it or not, he loves you more than any chance he has
to be rid of the past that torments him.  And for that reason alone I
would never mislead you.  And I am disappointed," the word was heavy
with extra meaning, "that you believe he would ask me to do so, and
that I would do so even if he did."

Maura's response would have been inaudible to a mortal, but Janette
heard its undertone of misery.  "I'm sorry.  I know, I do.  I didn't
mean it that way."

"I confess, I am mystified by this too.  But unlike you I have had
centuries to become unsurprised by the surprising.  In our time
Nicolas and LaCroix were wont to disappear for many nights at a time,
debating and arguing like father and son."

"It's not the nights that worry me."  What if something had
happened, something that would keep Nick from shelter?  What if
LaCroix, unable to persuade him, simply locked him out after sunrise?

"Perhaps you are right.  Perhaps you should go to the police
precinct and talk to Mr. Schanke about this.  And I will see what
information is to be had from the Community.  D'accord?"

"D'accord.  Thank you, Janette.  It could be just as you say.  He
could show up by sunrise all apologetic and guilt-ridden,"

"He is very accomplished at guilt, cherie.  Possibly you will gain
some more roses from this."

"Maybe.  Okay I'll be in touch."

"Bonsoir, cherie."

As Janette switched off her phone, her brow knit in consternation. 
This was so entirely out of character for Nicolas' current "persona".
She couldn't imagine what would persuade him not to bother letting
her, or Maura, or anyone else know he was safe.  She hadn't even
sensed LaCroix nearby tonight, and that meant he was deliberately
masking himself from her.

"Miklos!  When Vachon returns please join him and visit with some of
our friends.  See if they might know what Lucien LaCroix is up to,
and where Nicolas might be."

Maura spent the rest of the day at the loft, desperately willing the
phone to ring.  By the time she got to the precinct the next evening,
she hadn't eaten in 24 hours and hadn't slept for nearly 40.  She was
dressed in worn out jeans and a faded sweatshirt, her hair unwashed
and her face strained.  The detectives in Nick and Schanke's new
"shop" regarded her as if she was some street snitch or worse.

"Yeah?  What'll it be?" asked one.

"I'm looking for Detective Schanke.  Where can I find him?"  She
looked around uncertainly.  She'd only been to this precinct once, to
meet Nick after work, since he and Schanke had gotten transferred,
and she didn't recognize anyone.

"Payoffs are Tuesdays, honey.  Come back tomorrow."

She took a step toward the little shit, and repeated herself as if
to a mental deficient.  "I said, I'm looking for Detective Schanke. 
Where can I find him?"  

Another wiseass pulled out his wallet.  "Here I can let ya have five
until he gets back."  She whirled on him in a rage, not caring that
she looked more like a suspect than anything else, but before she
could make a move or open her mouth, Schanke loped into the office.  

"Hey Schank, this 'lady' is looking for you," said the first
detective who'd spoken.  "I told her payoffs are tomorrow."

Schanke's surprise at seeing Maura was trumped by his anger.  "Shut
up, junior, this lady is a friend of mine."  Just then a records
officer Maura recognized came in bearing a stack of folders.  Janey,
Maura seemed to remember.  She'd run into her on the street once or
twice.

"Hey, Maura, how's it going?"  She took a closer look.  "Are you
okay?  You don't look so good."

"You know this snitch?" asked smartass detective #2.

"She's Knight's girlfriend, you moron.  Here's the files you
wanted," she flung them on his desk in disgust.  "Call me if you need
help with the big words."

By this time Schanke was standing by Maura looking very concerned. 
"She's right, sweetheart, you look like hell.  What's up?  I thought
you and Nick were gone west on  vacation."

Maura's mouth dropped open.  "What!?  Did Nick talk to you about
going away?"  

Schanke put an arm around her and took her to an interview room,
"Come on, let's talk away from the zoo okay?"

The door had barely shut when she was in his face.  "What the hell
are you talking about, Nick and me going 'west on vacation'?"

He gestured cluelessly.  "Nick called in this morning and said that
he was gonna take some of his transferred vacation time and was
headed out west for some R & R.  I figured he meant both of you." 
His expression became sympathetically confidential.  "You two have a
tiff?  You seemed pretty tight to me."

Maura paced wildly and nearly shouted, "No Schank we didn't have a
fucking 'tiff'!  He went off with... an old friend just after the
club closed last night and never came back to take me home.  And he
didn't come back today either.  And he hasn't called, not me or any
of his friends.  Apparently he did call work, though."

"Well, yeah, if he just didn't show up he could lose his job."  The
stupidity of the statement hit him when Maura looked as if she'd been
slapped.

"His job.  Yeah, he wouldn't wanna lose that, would he."

"So this friend, male or female?"  Schanke was feeling a little out
of his depth and so reverted to detective mode.  Bad choice.

"Male," she sneered.  "Someone he's known forever, they had a
falling out and the guy seemed to want to patch things up.  Not much
gossip potential, I'm afraid."

He guided her to sit down at the table.  "Come on, I didn't mean it
that way.  I gotta wonder what's up, too.  Did he seem interested in
patching it up with this old friend?"

She shook her head bitterly.  "More than he should have been.  This
guy has been in my face for a while, trying to persuade me to leave
Nick so they could return to the wild boy days."

"Think he has a 'thing' for him?"

Maura laughed at how right he was, but explained, "Not the way you
think.  He was a mentor, almost a father, and so there's that father-
son crap and not wanting to let go, and really not wanting to see
Nick succeed where he doesn't think he should be."

"So you think maybe he abducted him?"

She shook her head.  "I dunno, probably not by force if you know
what I mean.  But shit, Schank, you know how Nick is, always wanting
to be 'reasonable'."

Nick's partner shook his head with a knowing smile.  "You know I'd
hoped maybe you could help him with that.  I meant that in a good
way, " he hastened to add.

"Yeah well, I'd hoped maybe I could convince him just once to stop
listening.  But he went off with the guy, and next thing I knew I'd
gotten a ride home and found this note next to the phone."  She
handed it to Schanke, not really sure what she expected him to make
of it.

"Uh, real classy, but what does it say?"  Like some of her vampire
friends, she tended to assume everyone was multi-lingual.

"It's French."

"Well I figured out that part."

"Sorry.  It says 'never forget I love you'."

"You find anything else?"

"A single red rose, with the note."

"Whatta guy."  He stared at the note for a minute and ventured,
"Look Maura, no offense or anything, but we both know that for all
his channeling Byron crap your man is not exactly the soul of
everyday romance.  So this is a little out of character wouldn't you
say?"

"Exactly!"  She almost came out of her chair.  "Janette doesn't want
to listen, but that's it exactly!"

He studied her a moment, knowing something was missing.  "So why do
I get the feeling you have some idea what it means?"

"Never forget," she murmured almost to herself.  "That's what gets
to me.  I mean, he's all the time saying 'I love you', all the time
telling me what I mean to him, like saying good morning, so casual
it's like breathing."  Schanke shifted a little uncomfortably,
feeling like a voyeur (and for once not enjoying the view), but he
didn't interrupt.  "But 'never forget', and the rose, it means more."

"What about the rose?  Aside from the fact that I've never noticed
him showering you with flowers."

"It's a special kind."  She hadn't actually admitted it to herself
before now.  "It's imported, very rare, French."  Schanke rolled his
eyes, of course.  "It's called 'La Vie Sans Fin', Life Without End. 
It's self preserving, once it's cut it never fades, never dies."  She
left out the unique horticultural fact that it was grown
sanguineponically, by a vampire botanist, fed on nothing but immortal
blood.  Finally she looked Schanke in the eye, struggling against
panic.  "I think he was saying goodbye, Donnie.  I think maybe he's
not coming back."  Her hands were shaking.

"Hey, hey now, I think we know him better than that," Schanke
declared.  "The man lights up like that Christmas tree he made for
you at the mere mention of your name.  Come on, Maura, I think you
know he didn't just want 'out'.  Guys who wanna break up with their
girlfriends don't usually ditch work too.  Let me ask around, see if
Nick didn't mention something to anyone else, okay?"  Maura wasn't
quite focusing on him, so he took her hands and gave them a shake. 
"Hey.  Don't go all strange on me like he does.  We'll find out where
your prodigal man is, and when we do he'll have more than you to deal
with believe me.  I don't appreciate being left holding the body
bag."  He hoped his admittedly lame black humor might calm her down a
little.  Maura nodded uncertainly, trying to return Schanke's
reassuring smile.  As usual he didn't have the whole picture, and as
usual he just couldn't be told.

Maura got up and headed for the door.  "Thanks, Schank.  I'm gonna
go talk to Natalie, see if she knows anything."

"Good idea.  I'll be in touch.  And try not worry too much, okay?"

He was so sweetly concerned, Maura had to smile.  "Okay.  I'll do my
best."

A week went by.  Natalie had had little to offer in the way of
insight, and naturally she was worried and upset as well.  

"I know, it's just not like him to do this.  It doesn't matter what
Janette says, he isn't the same as he was so long ago."  Finally
their respective attachment to Nick was making them allies, but
nobody wanted it to happen this way.

"Natalie, I know you have some trouble about Nick and me, and I'm
really sorry.  I never wanted to hurt anyone he cares about, I hope
you believe that."  For some reason Maura felt she had to explain
herself to everyone.  Natalie's expression was a bit pained, but kind
nonetheless.

"Nobody planned any of this.  I'd say I can imagine what you're
going through right now, but it wouldn't be true would it?  You are
in such a different place with Nick than I am.  I'm worried about my
best friend, but you guys..."

"I'm missing part of myself.  I can hardly believe I'm saying that,
it sounds so weak.  But what's the point in lying about it.  I feel
like I'm bleeding from a small precise wound, a little more every
day."

"You're not weak, Maura, you love him.  You have a life with him,
one neither one of you expected.  It's not weakness to be afraid of
losing it.  And I have a life with him that's taken too much effort
and emotional investment to abandon so easily."  The despair on
Maura's face was so profound that Natalie had to gather her in a
tight hug.  "We'll find him, for both of us.  We will.  And when we
do, believe me he's gonna regret he can't die."

Maura gave a bitter laugh.  "If he only knew the growing line of
pissed off people he'll be confronted by..."

But now it was a week later, and no word.  Schanke had told Maura
that Nick had at least a month of accumulated vacation time he'd
never taken.  Though technically not to extend it officially would
make him AWOL after that, his long service and commendations might
allow him to slide on that score.  It wasn't a comforting piece of
news.

Maura continued to work as usual, trying to ignore the sympathetic
glances of her coworkers, giving up on asking Janette or Miklos or
Vachon if they'd heard anything.  When a month had gone by, she
couldn't stop herself from begging for anything Janette might be
thinking.

"LaCroix is deliberately hiding from us," Janette explained, "there
is nothing we can do but wait for him to reveal himself again.  In
800 years, cherie, a month or so isn't so very long."  She was trying
to reassure her friend, but knew the words rang hollow to a mortal,
even one with Maura's understanding.

"I'll keep that in mind," she'd responded flatly.  She hadn't been
sleeping very well.  After just a week she had finally moved to the
sofa, unable to bear spending long nights alone in Nick's tremendous
bed.  Any doubts about the length of his intended absence were
dispelled when she rang the butcher to find out why his monthly
delivery of cow's blood hadn't arrived on schedule.  

"Well Mr. Knight, he said not to deliver until he got back to me. 
Said he didn't know how long he'd be away."  The man was obviously
confused that she didn't know about the arrangement.  So even the
butcher knew.  But not her.  When she called the electric and gas
companies, concerned about payments (and wondering how she'd manage
it on her salary) she was told that the accounts held considerable
credit balances, paid by Mr. Knight's attorney some weeks ago.  Based
on established usage, she would not have to concern herself for at
least a year.

Then the letter came from the attorney, the far-flung
unpronounceable name who was only a name to her.  It informed her in
very legal language that "henceforth from this date" she had full and
legal access to the "funds and fortunes" of Nicholas D. B. Knight,
and the financial and legal services performed for that client now
applied equally to her.  It was not a bequest, but an addition of her
to the rights of legal ownership.   Enclosed in the package were a
bank debit card and a platinum credit card (to be paid by direct
debit, she was informed), a check book and five hundred checks
featuring her name printed beneath Nick's.  His "funds and fortunes",
she knew, amounted to a couple hundred million dollars.

Five weeks.  She'd spent a few nights at the Schanke household, at
his and Myra's insistence.  

"Come on, honey, you're not sleeping, you're not eating, you look
like hell.  Come enjoy gracious living for a few days, okay?"  Since
Janette had given her some enforced time off after she'd physically
attacked an unruly customer, she reluctantly agreed. It wasn't an
easy few days.  Accustomed to being on her own a great deal, Maura
didn't interact much with her hosts, staying in the guest room until
summoned for meals she had to force herself to eat.  Myra tried hard
to get her to talk about what she was going through, but Maura just
couldn't find the words to define it.  "It's so far beyond what would
ever make sense to you," she told Myra one evening.  That was the
utter truth, but Myra took it in mortal terms.  "Whenever you need
to, you know where I am.  I really do understand.  ."  No you don't,
Maura thought.  Nobody does.

Her conversations with Natalie were nothing short of torture, for
both of them.  She had hoped that the different sort of link between
Nick and Natalie would offer some clue, but there was nothing. 
Natalie was frankly shocked at the sight of Maura in her lab, ten
days or so after Nick's disappearance.  She'd expected to hear from
her sooner, but to see how far she was coming apart was unexpected. 
Maura had always seemed to Natalie to be the quintessential survivor,
strong and resolute with a razor sharp sense of self-preservation. 
If sometimes rather a bitch.  What Natalie saw standing before her
was a textbook image of someone who has lost everything that mattered
to her.

"You would have told me," she began but Natalie cut her off.  Though
the implication was insulting, she couldn't manage to be offended. 
"Of course.  Just like you'd have told me."  Natalie was enduring her
own pain, of course.

"I'm not here to play my heart's more broken than yours," Maura
assured her.  "There's no hierarchy in this kind of shit."

"You're right there.  He's walked out on all of us."  There was a
bitter edge in her voice.  It was evident in every one of Nick's
friends and colleagues, that "wait'll I get my hands on that bastard"
sound.  Maura wished she could even fake it, but all that she could
muster was that disgusting depressed monotone.  She hated herself
like this, and continued the thought out loud.

"I never imagined I'd come to this, you know?  All the shit I've
been through, all the times I've been left twisting in the wind.  It
wore me out, but in the end it was just time to get up and walk.  I
hate being this way, Natalie, I hate being forced to admit that I'm
so dependent on someone else that I can fall apart without him.  I've
always felt that sort of weakness pretty amusing in others, not to
mention disgusting.  But here I am.  One person gone, and I've been
drained empty of everything."  

"I guess the difference now is that this time someone's making sure
you don't suffer for his lousy decisions."  She meant the financial
support, of course, but this triggered a brief flash of resentment in
Maura.

"Oh, right, no suffering here.  The bills are paid until the next
ice age, and I can empty his fucking bank account if I want and no
complaints.  Do you know what it feels like to see my name under his
on the checkbook, on his financial papers?"  Natalie remained silent.
"It's like now we're married but only because he left!" She shook her
head wildly.  "That's sick Natalie.  Leave me with nothing, okay,
like everyone else did, but now I'm left with less than nothing
because I'm the financial dependent of someone I never wanted
anything from!  I contacted that lawyer and said no, take my name off
of everything, I don't want 'Mr. Nicholas D. B. Knight's' fucking
charity.  You know what he told me?  I don't have authorization to do
that.  I own everything he does, I can spend every dime if I want,
but I don't have the power to say no.  It's like he's made certain I
can never get past this."

Natalie was shaking her head, the implication of the situation not
lost on her.  "I don't know what to say, Maura.  Everything I know
about Nick says he has to have some reason, but everything I know
about him also says he'd tell us what it is.  You know, he has people
on his payroll who can trace things, history, people, find out where
they are.  He hasn't used them for a long time, but you never know."

"Well I guess it doesn't surprise me.  Like everything else, he
wants it both ways.  He wants to be a vampire, but he wants to be
mortal, and he won't accept a balance of anything will he?  He wants
to be gone, but he wants me to be found.  He wants to love me, but he
wants not to have to."

"There's one thing I know, I accept, about Nick as a given, that
you've never been able to.  It's that he's not about indecision, but
about doubt.  Except for his work he's never sure he's making the
right judgment, so he hesitates to commit to anything before a long,
hard debate with himself.  And  the final decision is always his, no
matter how he pretends to listen."

Maura tried to disagree.  "But he commits all the time.  He
committed to his life here, to his job,  to you.  To me."

Natalie's smile was equal parts irony and sadness.  "Sure he did." 
And in that moment Natalie knew that the reason that she could cope
with the potential loss of the man she would have spent her life with
was that she accepted his self-doubt as an unshakeable part of him. 
He listened to himself so exclusively that he could be here, or gone,
at any time at all depending upon his most recent doubt.  The seismic
shock Nick's exit was putting Maura through was because she never had
any doubts at all, and simply believed the same of him.  Seeing the
pain in Maura's face increase exponentially as she absorbed the same
knowledge, Natalie reached out and held her shoulders firmly, looking
into her eyes.  "He doesn't doubt he loves you, nobody knows that
better than me.  But everything else is in question, all the time,
and that will probably never change.  I've been hoping he'd learn not
to act on it, but even that may be asking for too much.  And it may
be why it was so easy for LaCroix to lead him away.  He knows Nick
better than any of us, so he knows how to play him perfectly."

Maura stepped back, remembering.  "He said that to me that night,
just as Nick came out of the club.  He told me Nick couldn't resist
his 'desperate need to do the right thing'.  And Nick told me
himself, that his history with LaCroix deserved a final word,
something like that."  She gestured wildly.  "Shit, I knew what he
was up to, I begged Nick to ignore him and come home, just once not
to listen, to ignore the 'right thing' for once.  But he is, he's so
full of doubt he can believe almost anything if he thinks he's being
unreasonable."  This made it clearer, but not easier.  "Thanks,
Natalie.  You're the one person I've talked to who's given me
something to go on."  Her excitement over learning where Nick was and
why was immediately overcome by the question that was ruining her. 
"I just wish I knew why he can't tell us."

"That makes two of us."

"But this is my home now.  I don't want to leave, even for a little
while.  You know I don't really belong with those other people, not
all the time anyway."  Maura was in Janette's office, desperately
trying to keep her job.  "Come on, Janette, how can you fire me
especially now?"

Janette took her hands, but she was firm, "Maura, cherie, you cannot
work here in your current state.  Your behavior is erratic, and you
could bring attention from the authorities of the wrong kind.  Please
understand.  I am not 'firing' you, I am giving you time off, with
pay, as long as you need to settle yourself.  You are welcome here as
a guest, and will always be.  But until you bring your emotions under
control, you are a danger to us, and to yourself."  The Enforcers,
always on the watch for a reason to be rid of her.  Though bound by
strict codes, they were as prey to personal vendetta as anyone else
in or out of the Community, and would be glad for a valid reason to
do away with her.

"Is this what he was after?  To punish me by shutting me out of my
own life?"

An unfamiliar look of earnest sympathy replaced Janette's usual
detached expression.  "Cherie," she leaned forward, her face almost
touching Maura's, "you must believe me, I would tell you if I knew.
If I knew anything.  We have questioned our friends, I have even
spoken to Aristotle.  Nothing, there is nothing to tell.  And believe
me, there is nothing for anyone to gain from your suffering."

"Well maybe not quite anyone," Maura observed.  Janette handed her a
debit card for a local bank featuring the name "Cherie Gardeur". 
This was a shock; Janette simply did not trust banks.

"I have put some money in an account for you, it should last for
some time.  If it runs out I will continue to pay you every week."
she explained, adding with obvious distaste,  "It was in
preposterously bad taste for Nicolas to expect you to take his
charity.  And since he has abdicated his responsibility to you, he
has also forsaken his right to find you when he decides he is ready. 
From now on the decision will be yours."  So, Maura thought, Janette
did understand.  "The pin code is 'jamaisplus'."

Maura had to smile.  "Quoth the Raven."

Janette smiled in turn.  "D'accord.  I created a name for you that
Nicolas will not be able to trace easily."  Cherie Gardeur translated
"Dear Guardian".  Janette was nothing if not clever.  Now she handed
an envelope to Maura.  "Here is a list of some of our associates in
Vancouver, New York City, Boston and some other cities in Europe. 
They will be expecting you if you decide to contact them; you may
trust them as you trust me.  If you go elsewhere, let me know and I
will give you more names."

"Janette, you don't have to do any of this."

"I can no longer pretend to guess what Nicolas might be thinking, or
what mistaken path LaCroix might be leading him down.  But it is
wrong for you to pay for it."

Maura felt perilously close to tears for the first time since all
this began.  It simply had been playing out as too unreal to respond
to beyond a deep numb shock, but now she realized how attached to
this life and Community she'd become, quite apart from Nick. 
"Janette, please, it's not that I'm not grateful, but please don't
make me leave."

The firmness returned to Janette's voice.  "Maura, you have found
protection here.  I am afraid the time has come to repay it in kind."

Maura rose and Janette followed her across the empty club floor. 
"But where's Vachon?  I want to say goodbye..."

Janette continued to usher her to the door.  "Vachon knows," she
said, not unkindly, "and he and the others wished not to make this
harder for you."  Seeing Maura's stricken expression she added with a
smile, "We are immortals, cherie, and our world is full of comings
and goings, and no one can predict which will come upon which.  You
cannot travel far enough to leave the Community behind."  At the door
the usual kiss of parting was augmented by a surprisingly warm hug. 
"Á bientôt, cherie.  I have no doubt we will meet again."

The sun was rising as Maura stepped onto the sidewalk.  Hearing the
door bolt behind her caused a physical pain she hadn't expected.  She
hailed a cab and went back to the loft.							

"I'm gonna try some time back in Boston, it's been a long time.  And
it's where I'm from, after all."  She'd come to the lab to leave
Nick's car and loft keys with Natalie.  "The apartment and garage are
free and clear, I don't know if you knew that.  Utilities and heat
are paid for at least a year in advance, and I set and locked the
thermostat and have the blinds and a few lights set on timers to
discourage vandals."

Natalie wasn't quite believing all of this.  "What about Nick's
stuff?"  Art work, music, movie collection, his original paintings
and antique instruments were worth a fortune.

"The alarm codes are inside the key tag there," Maura indicated. 
"Don't worry, everything's there."

She frowned.  "I wasn't 'worried', Maura."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, I meant for insurance and
stuff."

"So is this a taking-a-break thing, or what?"

"Janette has me on leave from work as a defensive measure.  I was
'acting out' a bit on the customers.  I can't blame her, even a
mortal club couldn't have a troublemaking security manager.  She gave
me a list of contacts for various cities in case I need anything."

"'Contacts'?"

"You know, the Community, like that."

"Oh yeah.  Could come in handy, I guess."

Maura reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope containing the
checkbook, debit card, and platinum card Nick's lawyer had sent her. 
"Here.  I won't be needing these.  Janette set me up an account under
a different name, and I have the debit card for that."

Natalie looked inside and the impact of seeing Maura's and Nick's
names together was evident.  "Wow.  I see what you meant by 'sick'. 
But what do I do with them?"

"Just keep them safe, I guess.  And if he ever shows up again, give
'em back."

"Before or after I drive the stake through him?" Natalie muttered
darkly.

"Your choice."  She gave Natalie a quick hug.  "Look, I know things
with us have usually been, uh, 'problematic', but I know what you
mean to Nick."

"Yeah, about like I know what you mean to him.  About enough to
ignore us both.  But really, what should I tell him when he gets
back?  You know he will."

"Tell him I've 'gone west on vacation'.  After all he deserves the
same consideration he gave all of us.  Well I've got a lift from an
'associate' of Janette's later tonight, so I won't be seeing you
again."

Natalie looked worried.  "But it's nearly new moon, can you trust
him?"

Maura laughed.  "Believe me, he fears her more than he'll want me. 
Things are different now with that situation, now I have a whole
Community looking out for me thanks to Janette.  She has way more
power than even I suspected."

"I guess she'd consider it vulgar to show it off."

"Yeah, lucky me.  See ya."

She was halfway out the door when Natalie stopped her with, "So you
said goodbye to Schanke already?"

She didn't turn around.  "Uh, no."  Then she turned and asked
hopefully, "Natalie could you?  You know how excitable he is, I don't
want to upset him."

Natalie was shaking her head firmly.  "No-no-no-no.  Of Nick's
'inner circle' I think maybe poor Schanke is suffering the most,
because he understands the least.  He really is fond of you, Maura,
and you'd break his heart if you just left without a word."  Before
Maura could protest she added, "And I think Nick's broken enough
hearts around here on his own, don't you?"

"Right.  And Natalie, do me a favor will you?"

"Name it."

"Don't tell Nick where I've gone.  If he wants to find me... yeah,
right... he's gonna have to play detective."

"No problem.  I'd say he's given up his right to that information."

So Maura sat in Schanke's chair, trying hard to ignore Nick's name
plate on the adjacent desk.  Captain Cohen paused on the way from her
office.

"Maura, are you waiting for Detective Schanke?"  

"Uh-huh.  Do you know where he is?"

"He's interviewing a witness with O'Brien."  Seeing her confusion
she added, "Knight's sub."

"Oh."

"I don't suppose you've heard from Detective Knight?"  Maura could
tell the question wasn't easy for her.

"No, I haven't."

"Well, his time off officially runs out next Wednesday, so the
mystery should be solved by then."

"Sure.  Thanks, Captain."

Schanke blustered in with a very young detective in tow.  

"Hey, Maura!  This here's Bill O'Brien, the space-filler til Nick
gets back."  She stood and shook the young man's hand.

"Donnie, you got a minute?"

"Uh-oh," he turned to the "space-filler", "when my partner's partner
calls me 'Donnie' that means trouble.  Be right back.  Try not to
screw anything up while I'm gone."

Schanke followed her into an interrogation room and shut the door. 
"So?  What's up?"

"I'm leaving town for a while.  Maybe for a long while."

He was alarmed.  "Huh?  But what about when Nick comes back?"

Her voice grew so hard she could scarcely recognize it.  "What about
it?  Five weeks with no word, to me anyway though he'd managed to
cover his ass with about everyone else.  I'd say I'm past caring."

"Excuse me, but I don't believe it."

"Then I'll believe it for both of us.  I gave all my keys and the
keys to the Caddy to Natalie.  Janette has fronted me some traveling
cash and given me some contacts to help set me up."

"But I thought Nick took care of you..."

"He took care of me all right, but I don't want his fucking money." 
Suddenly the hard edge crumbled.  "I never wanted his money, Donnie,
and I still don't.  I don't want his roses or his notes or the
eternal vigilance of his financial advisor.  All I ever wanted was
him, and the life together we managed to jerry-rig out of good
intentions and spare parts."  

Schanke advanced a step and put his hand on her shoulder.  "I know
it's been hard for you."

"Do you really?  Well maybe you can requisition a 'space-filler' for
me too, for the space on the sofa and the space at the table and the
space in the bed."  She gulped back tears and shook off Schanke's
comforting hand.  "I'm suddenly lousy with space.  You gotta
understand," she clutched his sleeve, "I need to go somewhere I can
lose this fucking space and quit waiting for someone who didn't even
care enough to tell me the lies he told everyone else."

"He left you that note."

"Fuck 'that note', Schanke.  Notes are easy.  Dealing with things is
hard.  And I just can't deal any more, okay?  So I'm taking Janette's
largesse and running.  Shit, even if Nick showed up right now I'm
afraid I'd of what I'd do to him."

"Whatever it was, I'd hold him down for you," Schanke offered
grimly.  He was keenly aware of the pain and trouble his partner had
caused everyone, including himself.  "I know it doesn't mean much
from where you're standing but he's drilled us all full of holes. 
He's not getting any welcome home parties when he does show up.  You
wouldn't be on your own with it…"

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind.  But I gotta go, and I'm saying
goodbye because you should be treated like you matter by at least one
half of this fucked up equation."

"Where will you be?  When are you leaving?"

"Friend of Janette's giving me a lift in a couple hours.  I don't
know where I'll end up," she felt lousy about lying, but the fewer
that knew the better, "but really I'll call you, I promise.  It's
just..."

"Just what?"
													
"If Nick wants to find me... he needs to work for it, you know?  So
when I get in touch it's gonna have to be one-way, and you won't know
where I am."

Schanke was shaking his head, obviously distressed.  "Man, how did
this all happen anyway?  What the hell is he thinking?"

"Maybe he'll tell you when he gets back.  He sure as shit won't be
telling me."

A vampire named Sturn drove Maura straight through from Toronto to
Boston by 5am.  Instead of dropping her at a hotel as she requested,
he took her to a brownstone in the Back Bay.  "Janette's orders,
sorry.  Guy's name is Anton, he runs a club in Kenmore where you can
get work.  He's one of us.  He's expecting you."  Sturn carried her
bags up the short stoop to the door and leaned on the bell.  A tall,
forbidding looking man answered the door.  Dark eyes, long black hair
and a full beard, he stood well over six feet tall.

"Here's your package, man.  Don't forget to call Janette.  Good
luck, Cherie."

"Maura, my name is Maura."

"Not anymore," Sturn shot back as he got in the car and drove off.

"Welcome," Anton told her as he ushered her in.  "Come in, get
settled.  But first call Janette, she's waiting to hear you made it."

Feeling like she was trapped in witness protection, Maura dialed
Raven on the cell phone that was handed to her.

"Ah, cherie, you've arrived already.  Anton will be your host for as
long as you require, and he has agreed to employ you as well, if you
wish.  I didn't feel it was wise for you to be wandering the streets
the night before the new moon."

"Thanks, I guess, but this changing my name stuff is a little over
the top.  I mean it's fine on the card, to avoid the obvious paper
trail, but it's not like I'm on the lam or anything."

"Perhaps I'm mistaken, then, and your signature need not match the
name on your financial records?"  Her tone said she knew very well
she wasn't mistaken.

"Oh yeah, right.  Well call me Snow White if you want, I'm here and
everyone's done their jobs.  D'accord?"

"D'accord, cherie.  Bonsoir."

Maura switched off the phone and took a look around.  Her host had
disappeared for the moment.  The ground floor was elegant in a
subdued way, with a baby grand piano in the foyer and comfortable
looking furniture in the living room.  The dining room was rather old-
fashioned but welcoming.  Anton returned with a pot of tea, which
looked rather odd in the hands of such a large dark person.

"Join me in the front room."  She hadn't heard it referred to as
"the front room" in ages.  Once there she looked out the tall bay
window at the near-absence of moon, then cast a somewhat nervous eye
at her host.

"Anton?  Janette did tell you about my, uh, 'condition', didn't she?"

The dark face broke into a surprisingly winning smile.  "Don't
worry, I'm one of the ancients."  That addressed her concerns
immediately.  The vampires who had surpassed 1000 years or so didn't
seem much taken with her "condition". Her blood had the same effect
on them as any other vampire, but the pheromone had little attractive
power. "I came across in Imperial Rome.  With age comes discretion,
and self control.  And there are no guests this weekend to bother
you." 

"Guests?"  She looked around.  "This isn't a B&B is it?"

His laugh reassured her further.  "No, just a sort of safe house for
fellow travelers."

"Safe for me too?"

"Oh yes.  With age also comes power."  He was pouring the tea, but
Maura stopped him.

"If you don't mind, do you have anything harder?  It's been a rugged
day."

"Jack rocks, right?  Janette told me."  He got her a glass and
poured a sensible measure over a couple of ice cubes.

"Thanks."  She couldn't believe she was relaxing, chatting with this
stranger, this vampire stranger, as if he were simply a mutual
friend.  "Janette told you a lot I guess."

"Only the essentials.  You left Toronto for personal reasons and
would rather decide for yourself who knows where you are.  You're a
'prized' mortal, but more at home with us than with other mortals. 
No trouble, no threat, and no reason not to trust you.  That's about
it.  Except for the fact that Janette said you'd be needing work
sooner or later, and she told me what you do for her."

"So you own this place and a club?"  

"Somebody else owns the house.  I just live here and keep an eye on
things."  He didn't say who owned it, so she didn't ask. 

She sipped the bourbon, careful to pace it.  He seemed okay, and
Janette trusted him, but she didn't feel quite comfortable enough to
risk getting drunk.  "Tell me about your club."

"It's called Pulse, in the Kenmore Square club complex.  Straight-up
rock'n'roll."  Maura smiled broadly.  "You like that idea?"

"Well not that I haven't grown attached to Raven, and really I can
work anywhere and love all sorts of music, but straight-up rock is
really my style.  I'd rather rock than angst.  Heart, AC/DC, ZZ Top,
Tom Petty, like that.  Oh, and Tina."

Now he smiled again, and his teeth were of course snow-white and
perfect.  "Janette favors Goth, and Raven is fine for her niche.  I
prefer to play to a wider market.  What?"

Maura was shaking her head, still smiling.  "I'm sorry, it's just
it's rare to speak to one of you guys who isn't all caught up in the
'scene', you know?  Janette is really into her role as grande
mysterious vampire dame.  Maybe it's the French thing, or maybe it's
just the way she's most comfortable.  But the dungeon-bunny crowd can
wear on you if you're an outsider.  So grim and angst-y.  Gimme a
leather-and-denim shot and beer crowd over the blood-wine black
eyeliner bunch any day."

"It's where you came from, after all."  

She nodded.  "Fair enough.  Is it a big place?"

"Entire first floor of the complex, with a loft out back for private
parties."  The last two words betrayed not a hint of the double
entendre that dripped from Janette's identical utterance.  "I'll
bring you in tomorrow night."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Maura shifted uneasily. 
"New moon, and all.  Not that I don't trust you, but why ask for
trouble?"  Now he was laughing out loud, a rich easy sound.

"Janette truly has ruined you for the outside world, hasn't she?  I
told you, we cater to a wider market."

"You mean, mortals?"

"Why not?  There are more of them than us, so why not do business
with them?  Oh, the staff are vampires, and a core contingent of
regulars, but it's not a vampire bar.  Or a gay bar, or a straight
bar, for that matter.  Just a rock'n'roll club with long term
investment."  They both smiled at that double entendre.

"But what about the staff?  Do they uh, sample the clientele?"

His expression grew serious.  "House rule, no feeding on customers. 
Oh, don't label me moral or ethical, it's just bad for business for
customers to go missing, or hypnotized."

"Or perforated."  

The smile returned.  "Exactly.  Like Janette and other ancients, I
have more wealth than I can possibly use.  But I find business to be
a challenge to the wits and intellect.  After 2000 years I find
myself easily bored by the world.  Keeping a 21st-century music club
running in this economically volatile country is endlessly diverting."

She was beginning to like this Anton.  "I'm a little out of practice
with 'non niche' club security, but I'm sure it'll come back to me
quick enough.  Janette said you probably need someone."

"That's true, but not on the door or the floor.  What I need right
now is a vocalist for the house band."

"You do live music?"  She was impressed.  She figured it was too big
a pain for a big club.

"Half and half, a d.j. to start the night and the band to finish."

"Well I'm sorry, Anton, but I'm a bouncer not a singer."

"Derek Littles told me differently."

She barked a laugh.  The snaggle-toothed guitar playing bastard who
led Raven's house band had had ratted her out.  "So I guess it's
true, you do all know each other.  Yeah, I did some throwaway stuff
with Vamp, but nothing regular.  And trust me, not all that
impressive.  I can carry a tune, but that's about it."

"Practice leads to improvement.  And since you're changing most
every aspect of your recent life, maybe it's time to change that too."

"You guys all have the gift of smooth talk, you know that?"  He
shrugged mildly.

"Centuries of practice."  That phrase hit her hard, and it showed. 
"Did I say something wrong?"

"Uh, no.  Just reminded me of someone."  She finished her drink, and
forced a smile.  "Absent friend."

Anton nodded knowingly.  Surely Janette had told him more than he
let on, but he was one of the mannered ones, and didn't mention it. 
"You must be very tired.  Let me show you your accommodations."

He took her bags and she followed him up a winding staircase to the
third floor, and into a high-ceilinged whitewashed bedroom with pale
oak wainscoting and ornate doorframes.  The bed was a huge four-
poster, and the other furnishings were comfortably upholstered in
mauve and blue linen and velvet.  It was a bright, airy room, even at
night.  She crossed to the open door of the walk-in closet.  "This
must be the guest room, huh?"

"Some of these 19th century brownstones have been horribly butchered
and modernized.  In my time  I've decided it's more enjoyable to
adapt to what you find, rather than vice versa."

She turned in a circle to take it all in.  She'd become used to so
much dark, blacks and deep crimsons, this was like breathing fresh
air.  "The blinds?" she asked.

"Blackout, of course," he touched a button on the nightstand and
they slid into place behind the elegant curtains. "Your bathroom is
through here," he opened another door and the white-and-black tiled
bathroom was huge.  Pedestal china sink, shining brass fixtures, and
an enormous claw-footed bathtub with an old-fashioned circular
curtained shower, fluffy white towels hanging everywhere.

"Wow.  Thanks, Anton, really, I'm not sure why I deserve all this."

"Janette has instructed me that you are to be treated with every
consideration of a member of our Community, and protected from any of
its dangers."

"You mean the Enforcers."

He didn't react to the reference.  "I mean any of its dangers.  The
kitchen is partially stocked with fruits and coffee for the morning. 
Vlad will take any list you make to the market, or take you there to
do your own shopping."

Her eyebrows went up.  "Vlad?"

A friendly laugh.  He laughed a lot, and not sarcastically.  A good
sign.  "Short for Vladmir.  He is Russian, and quite mortal.  He and
his wife Majeska take care of the housekeeping, maintenance, other
household and daytime tasks.  They may be trusted as I am, and are as
protected as you shall be."

She was setting her things out on the bed, when Anton concluded his
"tour" by saying, "Sleep well, and as long as you like.  No one will
disturb you."  Maura was beginning to notice a certain air that
contrasted with his youthful appearance.  He looked about her age,
but had the grace and manners, not to mention the syntax, of an
aristocratic elder.  "Feel free to use the phone, there is a
directory in the nightstand drawer."

"No Gideon Bible, I presume."  She couldn't resist.

He shuddered and raised an eyebrow, "Janette warned me about your
humor.  No, Cherie, there is no bible to disturb either one of us."

She stopped him before he could leave.  "Anton, can you do me a
favor?  When we're here, can you call me Maura?"

"Of course.  I knew a fine Irish pirate by that name a long time
ago... but that's a tale for another time.  Sleep well."

"See you after sunset."  Once he'd gone, she reached for the phone
and dialed Raven, long since closed she knew.  When the machine
kicked on she said quietly, "Janette?  Merci.  Merci beaucoup.  Tu es
une amie pour les ages."

She changed for bed as the sun was rising.  And, as she'd done every
night for the past five weeks, she took the handwritten note from her
wallet and looked at it as if it held some secret she'd yet to
decipher.  "'Toujours' isn't such a long time, is it Bats?" she asked
the silence that surrounded her.  Replacing the note she couldn't
bring herself to throw away, she shut off the light and went to bed. 
And for the first and last time since that first morning she'd faced
alone she cried herself to sleep, for what Nick had walked away from,
and for what she was about to try to leave behind.

A week to the day after Maura arrived in Boston, Nick returned to
Toronto.  Six weeks of extended debate and travel, bound by LaCroix'
strict rules, had settled their argument once and for all.  True to
form, LaCroix would remain in Toronto until he bored of his
surroundings and playthings, but would cease his interference in
Nick's life and leave Maura strictly alone.  Nick remained
unconvinced by his mentor's urging to rejoin the dark life he'd left
behind, but the only way he could do so was to agree not to tell
Maura where he was or how long he'd be gone.  Knowing instinctively
that this time LaCroix would keep his word, he had agreed reluctantly
to the conditions.  And equally reluctantly, LaCroix had been forced
to acknowledge that it was far more than a new "pet" that had bound
Nick to his Toronto incarnation.  Her absence, he realized, would
change nothing except to leave the way open for another to assume the
same place in his life, sooner or later.  While not conceding defeat,
he accepted a change in dynamic.

"You're right, of course, we'll never really be shed of one
another," Nick told him, "why can't we just ratchet down the
dysfunction?  Why does it have to be this hard?"  That, finally, was
a question LaCroix could not answer.

As Nick left Maura in the Caddy that night, LaCroix had proposed a
final test.  "If I'm to believe you are completely committed to this
new existence, and not simply held in check by an infatuation with
this pet of yours, you must prove it to me by risking her loss."

"Why should I have to prove anything at all to you, LaCroix?"

"Because you know I'll never leave you in peace until you do."  He
was absolutely secure in his knowledge that, free from the
enticements of his prized pet mortal, Nicolas would be more easily
prised from this newest role-play.  This was the first time in 800
years that Nicolas seemed to believe fully in the reality of the part
he played.

"How do I know you'll hold up your end of the bargain?"

"Because, dear Nicholas, I don't have to lie, do I?"   

And so Nick had flown to Nero the botanist and taken the rose,
returned to the loft and left it with the note.  He made the
necessary calls to his attorney, and to the precinct.  Lies came
easily to him, they always had when he had an agenda in mind.  That
they'd be revealed as in mere hours didn't bother him.  How Maura
would be affected bothered him a great deal.  She'd been betrayed so
many times, and he had sworn she had seen the last of them, but this
one last transgression would free him forever and he would make it up
to her, many times over.  If she would permit it.

"She is gone, Nicolas."  Janette had greeted him with little
fanfare, but then this separation was a minor one relative to those
in the past.  The chill in her voice didn't register at first.

"Gone where?"  

"'Gone where'?" she mimicked.  "Gone away, Nicolas, she tired of
waiting and wondering what had become of you once your solicitor had
made it plain it could be sooner, or later, or jamais.  Did you
really expect her to live in your apartment, spend your money, go on
as if nothing were different, so you and LaCroix could pursue yet
another chapter in your family drama?"  She didn't bother to hide her
displeasure.  "You wanted to bond with a mortal, Nicolas, and from
the start she has had to play by our rules.  Perhaps she is tired of
the game."

"It's no game to me, Janette.  I did all this so we LaCroix would
leave us alone once and for all."  Nick's voice was tight and low. 
"You know where she is."

"She does not want you to find her."  A small lie, and no sense
letting him believe otherwise yet.

His anger rising, Nick warned, "We are old friends, you and I, but
don't try me."

She was unimpressed.  "And you do not 'try' me, Nicolas.  I know too
well how it feels to be forced into the shape of someone else's life,
to trade some of yourself for what you crave so badly.  Perhaps I
have enough memory of my life as a mortal woman to think as a woman
first.  Yes I know where Maura has gone.  If you want to find her,
you must do it yourself.  If you are as bound to her as you claim, it
should come naturally."

He could force the information from her, take it in a harsh bite and
swallow, but both knew that would rupture their connection forever.  

"If you talk to her, Janette," there was an edge of desperate need
in his voice, and even Janette in her disapproval could not ignore
it.  "Tell her I'm back. Tell her I'll find her."

"Tell her you're 'sorry'?"  In spite of her shreds of sympathy,
Janette had as little patience as Maura did with Nick's chronic
regrets.  Better to think in advance, and avoid them altogether.

"That would just make it worse," he admitted.  

"Then perhaps I should tell her you love her," and the sentiment
dripped ice water.  He answered with fire, gripping her wrist and
replying in the deceptively gentle dangerous tone that caught
everyone's attention whenever he used it. "She knows that."  He threw
her hand away.  "Never mind.  You're right, I'll deal with this on my
own."

He returned to the loft, needing some time alone before dealing with
the mess of questions he'd left behind at work.  Maura had left
things neat and tidy, painfully so.  No flung-open closets or sprung
hangers, no farewell poison slashed on the mirror in lipstick.  The
bottles were neatly lined in the fridge, his delivery having been
made at the beginning of the week as scheduled.  The box of vials of
the "thermostat potion" were still stacked in orderly fashion in an
adjacent cupboard.  She'd even left the rose where he'd laid it on
the table by the door, but the note was gone.  Maybe she threw it
away.  Outside the sun was rising; he slid the blinds shut and
trudged upstairs to the bedroom and into his dressing room to change
for bed.  There, on the hook inside the door, hung the kimono he'd
had made in Sapporo for Maura, the one he'd given her for Christmas,
the night they'd first summoned the courage to make love.  The night
she'd summoned the courage for both of them, he corrected himself. 
By her "rules", at last.  Janette was right, of course, every
concession had been made from Maura's side, every lapse was his to be
forgiven by her.  There had only been a few, but all deep and
painful.  He ran his hand along the velvet and fur of the sleeve,
fingers straying inside to the ripple cut silk velvet, trying to
remember how it felt warmed by her.  He raised the sleeve and pressed
it to his face, closing his eyes.  Her fragrance remained,
honeysuckle and amber.  Where would she go, he wondered, to escape
the knowledge of this final abandonment?  After finally making a home
and the life she loved, where would she go not simply to forget it,
but to replace it?  With Janette and the others (he hadn't missed the
cold looks from Miklos and Vachon at the club) on her side she no
longer needed the protection of anonymous strangers, no longer needed
to trade herself for safety.  Now when she left it wasn't in search
of refuge, but to start a new life for herself, alone.  Where things
felt easy and familiar.  His eyes shut tighter and he concentrated
the power he hadn't visited until his travels with LaCroix these past
weeks.  

In a strange sense he felt grateful to LaCroix, once mentor and
later nemesis, for having forced him to confront what had clearly
been his own half-commitment to his life and love.  What had been
assumptions - he assumed his inner doubts were calming down, he
assumed Maura's was the only human blood he cared to taste, he
assumed his existence with her paled all those previous by comparison
- had crystallized to utter certainty in this past month and a half. 
In no time at all he had become terribly homesick, not just for his
job and friends but for Maura and their life together.  No cheerfully
willing vampire whores or eternal nights at the opera or flights over
moonlit landscapes in search of virgins (for LaCroix, who was still
sentimental in his tastes) or a butcher (for Nick, who steadfastly
refused all but cow's blood) could distract him from what became a
physical longing for home in every meaning of the word.  And nothing
at all could distract him from the strain he felt in his connection
with Maura, her pain and confusion came to him with increasing power
through his one-way blood connection, as if someone were turning up
the volume on a distant radio.  He supposed now he'd known when she'd
left, there was a drop in feeling, a sudden sense of loss.  He tried
to ignore it, and was ashamed to say it got easier as the days
progressed, but now he was back and needed to put it all together,
knowing he'd never put it all behind him.

He decided not to call Natalie but to go straight to the lab before
work.  He wasn't sure what to expect other than anger and hurt
feelings.  Even so, he didn't expect the deep freeze that confronted
him.

"Well, well, the prodigal vampire returns.  I hope you're not
expecting confetti."  She hadn't even risen from her stool at the
microscope bench.  "Have a nice vacation with your buddy?  Bet you
found home nice and peaceful, huh?"

Nick was taken aback.  He knew it was unreasonable to expect her to
leap up and kiss him, but her attitude bordered on open hostility.

"It was complicated.  LaCroix,"

"Yeah, Nick I heard all about LaCroix.  Maura told me.  She told me
how he as good as announced to her his plan to call you away, just a
minute before he did it.  She told me she begged you just once to
stop trying to be Mr. Nice Guy and let the past be past.  No matter
how much you claim to love mortality, you'll always turn away in a
mortal heartbeat at your master's call."

"He's not my master."

Natalie laughed out loud.  "Not much.  You traipsed off into the
night and left behind everyone you claim to care about, every part of
the life you swear you want to keep.  You walked out on possibly the
best thing you ever accidentally stumbled into.  You left us all as
if we were an afterthought, and for what?  Let me guess, to figure
out where you really belong, am I right?"

By now he was scowling.  "Not entirely.  LaCroix told me he would
stop interfering if I could prove to him that my commitment to this
incarnation was more than an attachment to a 'prized' mortal.  To do
that, I had to walk away without explanation, risk losing her, losing
all of it."

Now Natalie jumped from her stool, leaped from it, to shout in
Nick's face.  "How fucking dare you!  We're human beings, Nicholas,
the people who trust you, who have forgiven your every stubbornly
stupid error in judgment regarding us, and still you use us as
leverage to prove a point to that asshole LaCroix!"

He'd never heard her swear like that, like a sailor, like... Maura
when she was enraged.  "Natalie, I don't expect you to understand." 
It was all he could tell her, there honestly was no way she could
understand the prospect of ending 800 years of perpetual harassment
and torment.

"You'd better not expect anyone else to, either.  Y'know, I used to
envy Maura's relationship with you.  I thought, if only it were me,
all of your doubts would be erased and it would be happy ever after."
Another explosive laugh as Nick shifted uncomfortably at her candor. 
"Well experience is a harsh teacher.  I don't have Maura's patience
or forgiving heart, and if it had been me you'd have been found
smouldering in the sunshine by now with a stake through your chest." 
She paused for a moment, trying to think of something else evil to
say.  "God Nick, you are such an ASSHOLE sometimes!"

He blinked at her, stunned.  "I don't suppose you know," 

"As a matter of fact, I do.  But the only way you'll get it from me
is through the jugular."

"Well I guess I'll just go to work then."  He felt pretty lame, but
what else was there to do?  He'd incinerated more bridges than he'd
imagined, though he was realizing how stupid he'd been not to have
foreseen it.

"Don't let the lab door hit you in the ass.  And don't expect to
have it easier from Schanke.  He's not thrilled to have been left
holding the bag at the precinct, and he and Myra put in some serious
time with Maura after she got those letters from your lawyer.  Oh,
that reminds me," she got the envelope from her desk drawer where
she'd stashed it since Maura had given it to her.  "She doesn't want
your self-redemptive charity."

He peered in the envelope, shaking his head.  How could he have
misread everything so completely?  "I was only trying to,"

"'Do the right thing'? Well let me tell you your little gesture of
half-hearted responsibility made things a lot harder for her.  She
said seeing her name on all your stuff like that made it feel like
you were married now, but only because you'd gone.  We both agreed it
is pretty sick."

His face a too-familiar mask of guilt, Nick tucked the envelope in
his jacket and turned to leave.  Natalie tried to let him go in
silence, but couldn't.

"Nick."  All the vitriol was drained from her voice as she spoke his
name, and he turned as if expecting a blow.  "You're my best friend. 
You will always be my best friend, saint or screwup, and I will
always, always love you.  But I gotta tell you, it's gonna take a
while for me to like you again."

"Understood.  I'll be in touch."

Natalie had been right about Schanke.  

"You should know you finally score lower than me with the women in
this precinct," he informed Nick once they got back to work.  

"A moment to cherish."  Nick hadn't had much to say, fielding the
looks and forced smiles stoically.

The captain's greeting was closer to neutral, but as his commander
she was unimpressed with his behavior from a professional standpoint.
"Glad you made it back, detective.  You were dangerously close to
AWOL.  Schanke will catch you up."  

And oh, how he had.  Before hearing about the cases in process, Nick
got chapter and verse of the riot act, every conversation and
despairing unanswerable question Maura had uttered since he'd left. 
After five or ten minutes, Schanke ran out of steam.

"If you'd tell me what you're waiting to hear, maybe I could come up
with something," Nick told him.

"Hell, I dunno, man!" Schanke gestured in frustration.  "We've been
partners for years, I may not know what goes on in your head but I
know how you act, and this just wasn't the Nick Knight I know.  He
doesn't slap down the people that care about him without a backward
glance.  But I guess I can't say that anymore, can I?"

"If I could explain, I would.  I can't."

"Not even to her?"

Nick sighed.  "Think I could get her to listen?"

"I can't believe I'm saying it, but you probably could.  If you can
find her.  And no I don't know where she's gone, she was afraid I'd
tell you so she kept me in the dark."  The bereft look on his
partner's face got to Schanke.  He couldn't even guess why Nick would
hurt Maura so badly; it was probably the stupidest thing Schanke had
ever known him to do.  But for all of that , it was clear Nick was
desperate to find her.  What he'd say and how he'd put things back
together who knew, the only question he didn't have was whether or
not Knight was still crazy in love with her.  Though how someone
crazy in love could cause so much damage... well they'd both seen
plenty of things on the job to make them question human behavior. 
And he seemed even more crazy for her than before, if such a thing
was possible.

"Look partner, I'm not saying I understand what you did. I'm not
saying I don't want to join the line of people dying to kick your
ass.  And I'm not saying you don't deserve whatever workover Maura
puts you through when you do find her.  But in spite of it all I
don't think the door is closed.  Not locked, anyway."

Cautious optimism.  "What does that mean?"

"It means when she came to say goodbye she told me if you want to
find her again you're gonna have to 'work for it'.  That means she
didn't tell anyone where she was gonna be."

"Oh, she told someone.  She told Natalie.  And Janette knows, she
helped her on her way.  But they're not telling."

"Women stick together," and now Schanke clapped a sympathetic hand
on Nick's shoulder, much to the latter's relief.  Schanke noticed the
look.  "Hey there's nothing I can say to you that somebody else
hasn't said, and that you won't hear in spades later.  I like Maura,
a lot.  So does Myra, who by the way wants to geld you right now. 
But I've seen the change in you since you two got together, even if
you haven't spilled your guts about it.  It's written all over you. 
And speaking as someone trapped with you every day, I do not wanna
see the black clouds return.  So anything I can do to help..."

"Thanks, Schank.  It's more than I deserve."

"You got that right.  But partners are partners, right?"	

He knew where she'd gone, and it didn't take vampire powers or even
detective work to figure it out.  Getting more time off was a little
more difficult, until Schanke reminded him of the detective exchange
program.

"Detective Knight, you've used up every sick day, vacation day, and
comp day imaginable.  What could possibly induce me to give you more
time away from the precinct?  Not that I'm entirely unsympathetic,
but after all you left first.  I can't blame your lady friend for not
hanging around."

"Captain, there's an exchange program coming up, you posted it last
month.  Looking for detectives to swap with American police
precincts, to share ideas and cross-train for international co-
operation.  Boston is one of the cities, and I happen to know that
you've had no accepted takers."  Happened to know, because he sweet-
talked Gloria in personnel (the one coworker young and naïve enough
not  hate his guts right now) into giving him information on all of
the applicants.  Who happened to have been turned down for lack of
experience or unproven performance.					

"Boston isn't the only city on the list, detective."

"Captain, please."  Nick gave up the pretense of detachment.  "Look
I know it's not the concern of Metro, but I'm pretty certain Maura's
in Boston.  I know I can't get more time off, but I know I qualify
for the exchange.  I just didn't apply before because,"

"Because there was no compelling reason to go to Boston."  He didn't
dare respond.  "All right, detective.  It's not as if you are
unqualified, or have nothing to contribute.  But I'm warning you,
work has to come first.  As for the rest... I wish you luck.  But
that's all I can offer.  See human resources for the guidelines and
forms."

The real estate agent he'd contacted found him an upscale furnished
loft in a recently converted warehouse near the market district, with
an at-will arrangement.  He thought it might be difficult to fulfill
his particular requirements for out-of-the-way location, private
parking, private entrance, and light-tight blinds, and was prepared
to dance around any awkward questions.  He needn't have worried;
apparently in this city there was something for every taste, and the
agent barely batted an eye.  "How about soundproofing, Mr. Knight?"

"Thanks, that won't be necessary," and the raised eyebrow that this
elicited was the only surprise evident on the part of the agent. 
What did people do in their off time around here, Nick wondered.  It
took only a few hours and three visits to different prospects to
settle on his new home-away-from-home.  Even his payment in cash,
which Nick was sure would lead to suspicion, failed to raise another
eyebrow.  He was handed a receipt, a handshake, and "Pleasure doing
business with you, Mr. Knight.  If you require anything else, let us
know."

As he got his stuff sorted out, Nick smiled in amusement at the
bedroom decor.  Platform bed centrally located, internal speaker
system with input ports near the head of the bed.  What made him
laugh, though, was the assortment of heavy-duty polished chrome rings
and hooks mounted in the ceiling over the bed.  "Must've replaced the
mirrors," he mused as he unpacked.

The precinct where Nick was assigned worked out of the waterfront
district, which made him feel quite at home.  Every waterfront
district in every city, in every country, sheltered the same type of
criminal activity.  Drugs, hookers, smuggling, dumping of victims
who'd been done elsewhere.  His new coworkers were a bit wary of the
newcomer on the night shift, a tight knit bunch much like he was part
of back home.  Not one to try too hard to fit in , he took it all as
it came.  One thing he noticed was that nearly everyone had either an
Irish or a Latino surname, even the black cops.  Captain O'Malley was
a balding, beefy 20-year veteran whose appearance and straightforward
manner reminded Nick of his former captain Stonetree.

"You'll come to uniform roll call and do ride-alongs the first two-
three days, Knight, to give you a feel for the area.  Then you'll get
a partner to bring you up to speed on cases, and then we can just
turn you loose.  Sound good?"

"Sure, Captain, I'm here to learn.  Whatever you can tell me about
the business on this side of the border can only be a plus."

"You do any homework?  About the BPD I mean."

"Well, some.   I understand you've had an, ah, problematic history
at times."

O'Malley laughed out loud.  "They sure train you polite up north. 
Well without the frilly manners, this department has been a rat's
nest for every take artist and backdoor deal maker you can name. 
We're still having to clean up after the last commissioner, who was
on the payroll of too many connected city councilors and drug
dealers.  The new commissioner, he's been in place a year now and
clean as the pope, but the public has a long memory and so do the
crooks.  So if you've ever been tempted by a little extra cash on the
side, turn your ass around and go back to Toronto and save IAD the
trouble of busting you."

Nick smiled.  "No offense, captain, and not that it doesn't happen
there too, but I think things have been a little less colorful in
that respect where I've been working."

"Toronto, huh?  Big city, bigger than Boston I think."

"Well people kill each other the same way there as here, only less
frequently."

The captain rolled his eyes.  "You got that right.  I think we got
more street gangs too, but we have a separate task force for that,
and sex crimes too."  He caught Nick's look.  "Yeah, detective, we
got so much ugly here they get to specialize.  Maybe people are right
and Americans are less civilized than our northern neighbors.  I
don't get paid to figure out why, I just do cleanup."

"Well in that we're about the same.  Point me somewhere and let's
get started."								  

Maura had felt a little edgy all day.  She and the band rehearsed a
couple of new numbers, but she couldn't seem to concentrate.  "Hey
Loony," Robyn's play on her stage name, "maybe we need to let this go
until you can focus.  You're a little spacey today."

"Sorry, really.  I don't know what it is with me tonight."  She'd
settled in pretty well at the club, and had replaced someone named
Mariah with little fuss.  Since the band was changing their set lists
anyway, there were no awkward adjustments in arrangements.  They
worked quite well together and got along famously.  The guys, Robyn
on keyboards and synthesizer and also the main arranger, Sage the
sometime bouncer on lead guitar, Rory on bass, and Luc on drums, were
rather taken with having a mortal bandmate.  By now, a month into her
tenure, and five weeks after her arrival in Boston, they'd developed
a solid following of the new lineup and material.  For the first time
in her life, Maura felt stable and safe on her own.  She still lived
in Anton's house, but the arrangement was more convenient than
protective; she paid him rent and cooked for herself.  The one new
moon she'd spent in town she had few worries for her safety, as an
accepted member of the Community by way of Janette's influence she
had little to fear from outsiders.  Still, she didn't feel
dependent.  

"Reliance and dependency are two very different things," Anton had
told her.  "You might rely on your friends if you need help, but
depend on yourself for everything else."  It was a new and welcome
feeling.  Still, certain songs raised strong emotions, particularly
the love songs that she was occasionally urged to sing to accommodate
slow dancers.

"I heard the one you wrote with Derek, he sent a tape," Robyn tried
to persuade her.  "Valentine's Day is coming next week, it'll be a
killer."

She was adamant, she would never sing that one, ever.  "It's just no
good here, I can't explain it."  Derek hadn't filled anyone in on her
personal business, so she had to accept the reputation for being
stubborn.  

Valentine's Day, shit.  She never quite managed to put Nick
completely out of her head, but it was getting marginally easier to
get to sleep by sunrise, sometimes earlier.  She was unable to shake
the physical sense of loss, though, even when fully engaged in her
new life, as if some vital organ or limb were gone and the phantom
sensations wouldn't let her be.  It had been almost three months now.
Even as she ran from Toronto, the willful contrary part of her was
hurt that he didn't follow.  He must have returned home by now.  Who
was she kidding, the link that bound her to him would never let up
until one of them was dead.  She'd just learn to live with it, as
she'd learned to live with far more traumatic things in the past. 
But as reliance was different than dependence, missing was different
than gone.  "Gone" wouldn't get a second thought.  "Missing" was a
constant companion.  Shit.  She'd never be shed of him, even if he
were completely shed of her.

"Yeah Rob, sorry.  Better call it a night."  The club was closed,
Sundays being less popular with mainstream customers than their
dungeon-bunny counterparts.  

"I'll give you a lift," Sage offered.

"Nah, I'll walk.  It's not far, and it's not all that bitter
tonight."  It had been a warm February so far, and Maura enjoyed the
twenty-minute walk from the Fenway to Anton's brownstone.  The route
was well-lit by the quaint gaslights along the way, and she'd never
had a problem at this hour.  The freaks and weirdos were all down for
the count by 3am, with their drugs and fetishes to keep them warm. 
Tonight, though, something had her looking over her shoulder every
few blocks.  "Hey, someone there?  Guaranteed I've seen worse than
you."  Suddenly she felt she was looking in the wrong direction, and
stopped cold in the middle of the street.  "Nick?" she barely
whispered, looking straight up into the stars.  Hovering just out of
sight, it was all he could do to keep from replying.  Maura shook her
head to clear it, and continued home.

Anton was shutting the blinds for the coming day when she let
herself in.  "Hey," she greeted him but didn't pause before heading
upstairs.

"Practice go okay?"

She stopped and shrugged.  "Not so hot.  I wasn't really on the mark
tonight."

"You've been adjusting fast to a lot of new things.  Maybe you're
rushing."  She'd never known such an in-tune vampire.

"Yeah, yeah, well unlike some I don't have a couple millennia to get
it together."

Anton smiled good-naturedly.  "Get some sleep Maura, your bitch is
coming out."

"Well yours is going to bed, see ya tomorrow night."

By the time she got to her room she was completely drained, not even
bothering to put her clothes away before she crawled into bed after
looking at the carefully preserved note in her wallet.  She supposed
it was her fault for keeping it, but even in sleep she couldn't
escape; Nick filled her dreams.  Maybe he did it on purpose, LaCroix
having schooled him in all things, but he didn't talk to her as his
teacher had on the occasions he'd invaded her sleep.  Just replays. 
"Just".  She woke next day on the edge of tears.

Valentine's night at Pulse was as different from Raven as night from
day.  At Raven, S&M was the theme.  Here it was hearts and champagne
and roses everywhere.  The Vie sans Fin rose Maura found outside her
door before leaving for work brought an ache and a smile at the same
time.  The last time she'd gotten one was... never mind.  Anton must
have left it for her, without a note.  She pinned it to her burgundy
velvet pullover (paired tonight with tight black jeans and high red
boots, Valentine's rock-chic) and an exquisite ruby cabochon heart
surrounded with finely wrought silver roses on a delicate silver
chain.  That necklace had arrived in the mail last week, return
address Toronto.  Janette and the crew at the Raven, she assumed. 
Her hands and wrists were decked with garnet and ruby jewelry she'd
collected over the years.  She'd left all the others, gifts from
Nick, back in the Toronto in the rosewood box he'd given her for her
birthday.  She could walk away too, she'd declared to herself at the
time.  Yeah, right.  She thought of the note in her wallet as she
picked up her purse to leave.  She was a living connection to Nicolas
de Brabant Knight, and there wasn't a goddamn thing she could do
about that other than die.

"So got any plans for tomorrow, Nick?  'Special lady' to wine and
dine?"  Brian Murphy was Nick's assigned partner now that he'd gone
through the initial orientation.  Married, mid-30's, two daughters in
junior high school, his wife Melissa was a born matchmaker like half
the people Nick knew back home.  As some of the squad had the next
two nights off, romantic plans were being made both around him and
for him, at least in theory.

"Hey, I've only been in town a couple weeks.  Thanks for the
compliment, but I don't work that fast.  Quiet night at home with the
stereo and a glass of wine."  He'd found that getting a steady supply
of cow's blood was even easier here than back home.  And it seemed
the local merchants had been aware of some "exotic" personal habits
of the former tenant of Nick's loft, so nothing seemed to garner
attention. 

"Like the song goes. 'Full Moon, and Empty Arms'."  Murphy was a
piano fan.

"Yeah, well, I get by.  You and your family have a great time at
dinner."  Brian was taking "his ladies" for a special night out. 
"Sure you won't join us?  Missy and the girls have been dying to meet
the new kid on the block."

"No thanks, really.  Some other time when it's not a special
occasion, okay?"

"Okay, have it your way.  Stay home and brood.  I get the feeling
you like it better that way anyway."  He laughed and clapped Nick on
the shoulder.  Was he that easily read, he wondered.

Nick really had intended to stay in, listen to the radio in the
blessed absence of the draw to CERK and the Night Crawler.  He
randomly pressed the 'search' button and the it landed on a local
rock station broadcasting live from a downtown club.  He wasn't
really paying much attention as he settled on the leather sofa, feet
up on the glass coffee table and glass of blood in hand as he perused
the city paper.  It was the tail end of an edgy song, and something
about the female lead singer's voice pushed a button in Nick.  When
the last chord faded to applause, he was nailed where he sat.

"Hey thanks guys, I'm still new in town but it's nice to be
appreciated.  Let's kick a little more butt before things get too
mushy later on..." and even as he admitted to recognizing the voice,
he also recognized the band launch the opening riffs of Fire Down
Below.  Nah, couldn't be.  He knew she worked in a Kenmore club but
figured it was security, as always.  She was way too shy about her
voice to front full time for a house band.  But when the first lines
blasted out, he sat up straighter.  "Shit."  It was her.  He'd
followed her home once or twice from work, hovering out of sight,
just to see her.  Just to be nearby.  She was doing pretty well
considering he'd treated her like last week's trash, and since he'd
drawn the line at the occasional "fly by" he had no idea how she re-
read his parting words every night, no idea how the abandonment still
defined her life.  Janette had refused to tell him anything, even
after he'd found out where she lived.

"Nicolas, you set this in motion and you must catch up to it on your
own.  You have found her, as you said you would.  Now you must decide
what to do."

"Janette, you know her."

"But I do not love her, Nicolas, you do.  What I think is of no
importance and cannot help you decide what to do.  You can have any
answer you want, if you pay attention."

So Nick drained his glass, got up and went out to the club.  Blue
jeans, grey cowl-neck sweater, brown leather bomber jacket and boots.
He'd affected the local style, letting his beard grow out a little
beyond the stylish dusting stage, because his sharp-dressed man stuff
stood out like a sore thumb in Boston.  Working-class scruffy seemed
to work well here.  He didn't give up the shades at night though.   
He hailed a cab, deciding the Caddy would be too conspicuous in the
club parking lot.							

Now that the evening had gotten underway, Maura was beginning to
enjoy herself.  Because of the "special" occasion the band had the
whole night, which meant they'd had to work up a monstrous set list,
just about everything they knew plus a bunch of new material.  They
even threw in a disco set, which was the groundwork for an upcoming
70's night that Anton had in the works.  He was a sharp businessman,
was Anton, and kept every single lesson he'd learned about human
nature in 2000 years.

Halfway through their version of Tragedy, arranged to the split
second for laser and pyrotechnics, Maura almost lost the beat. 
Something like an electric shock ran through her, and she even
stepped back from the mike, shooting a glance at Robyn who was
directing this particular spectacle.  His return look said "Huh?" so
she just went on.  By the time the song, and the set, was finished
she saw Anton beckoning her from the edge of the bandstand.  

"There's some guy here looking for you.  Nobody I've seen, said his
name is Nick and you know him.  He okay?"

She looked to the main entrance and saw Lily and Rafe, two of the
vampire bouncers, holding someone at the door.  It didn't take more
than a glance to tell who it was.  She gulped.  "Yeah, Anton, he's
okay."

"But you came to town to get away from some guy.  Is this him?"

"Yeah, but don't worry.  He'd never hurt me, not in the physical
sense anyway."

Sage overheard, and chimed in.  "Yeah, well if he gives you any
trouble just give the sign and we'll take care of him."

"He's one of you."

"I don't give a shit."  Anton's expression said he didn't , either. 
Boston was Boston, moral or im.

Maura smiled and patted his arm.  "Thanks, o guardian demons. 
You'll be the first to know."  

Anton gave a wave to Lily and she had a word with Rafe.  They
stepped back and Nick ventured into the club.

When Maura approached Nick halfway along the side bar, they both
just stood and stared for a moment.  The working-class look suited
him, she noticed, the GQ-pseudo shadow beard replaced by the real
thing, not too thick but not that "stylish garnish" as she used to
call it.  Between that and the jeans and beat-up leather and very un-
tailored sweater open at the throat (finally!) Maura though my god,
this is how he was born to look.   But then she'd thought that a
million other times too.  He looked so good her stomach hurt.

"I like your hair, it's hot," he told her, admiring the wide blonde
streaks she'd added to the long shiny red he already loved, but
managing not to reach out and touch it.  Hot?  He'd never used that
word with her.  He was picking up on the local lexicon.

"Yeah, well, you're looking pretty natural yourself."  After another
minute she shook her head.  "I don't know what to do.  Do I say
thanks for finally penciling me into your life, do I jump into your
arms and make a scene for the customers..." her voice flattened, "Or
do I reach for the nearest sharp stick.  Because believe me, I'm
right on the fence."

He didn't quite smile, didn't quite frown.  "Do I get a vote?"

The turmoil she'd tamped down for so long was starting to bubble. 
"I'd say not."

The look on his face, indefinable by mere words, caused her a
physical pain.  She really wasn't enjoying this.

"Can we at least not pretend to be strangers?" he requested.  The
noise of the night whirled around them but it was as if they were in
a glass cube.

"I'm not sure we're not," she answered honestly.  Now he took a step
closer, reached a hand to her cheek.  

"Please don't say that.  I wanna hear everything you need to say,
but not that."  When she looked him hard in the eye the hand withdrew.

So she said nothing, staring at the floor, waiting for the echo of
his fingers to leave her face.  "I'm no good at this, Nick, you're
the master of angst."

And he was gone, just for a moment, and returned after whispering
something in the D.J.'s ear.  Alexa was her name, and like all of the
staff she was a vampire, and knew Nick's nature the minute he'd
walked in.  She also knew there was something here that none of them
were privy to.  She cued up the song he requested, a smooth disco
number with very meaningful lyrics, 70's style shit about a man who'd
lost it all.

When Maura recognized the lead-in, she tried to turn away.  "Jesus,
Nick."  He stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Dance, lady?" only this time he sounded like a hopeful prom date
and not the noir seducer.  He added, "I know you remember that, at
least."  He moved to the dance floor and she was completely unable to
do anything else but join him and take the hand he extended, the
other hand on his shoulder as they found the rhythm.

Then they started moving together, really moving, complex and fluid,
anticipating every move so they fit together.  She closed her eyes,
never missing a beat and losing herself in the music and the movement
of their bodies in perfect tandem.  As always.  "Look at me," he told
her when he pulled her against him for a cadence of two heartbeats,
and she did, sideways, cheek-to-cheek, and what she saw was sorrow
beyond "I'm sorry", which would merely have angered her more.  What
she saw wasn't apology but something different she couldn't name,
different because she knew in that moment that even had he known what
would happen he still would have walked off with LaCroix that night. 

"Do you believe I love you?"  A question so direct there was no
clever reply to be had so Maura responded with a directness of her
own.

"Do you believe my life turned to hell when I thought you'd gone for
good?"  They were standing still now, oblivious to the dancers around
them.  Nick's response was to kiss her, hard.  She tried to break
away but his immortal strength held her like a vise.  When at last he
let her breathe he told her fiercely,  "I believe that.  Everything
else we can talk about, everything else is negotiable.  But I love
you, and that is the reality that the universe has to be based on."  

Maura shook her head and Nick allowed her now to shove her way out
of his grasp and flee the dance floor as he followed close behind. 
Anton was there in a heartbeat to stand between them.  

"I think she's had enough reunion for now."  Nick tried to move past
but was stopped by a hand on his chest.  "My club, my rules.  Leave
her alone, you've been pretty good at that so far."  Maura was
startled to see Nick's face transformed into a feral snarl as he
pushed back with a hiss.

"Our issue," he glowered.

"Stop this, both of you," Maura insisted.  "I won't be the lame
excuse for some immortal hissing contest.  Anton, he's right.  We may
not be doing this very well, but it's our issue.  If I need to get
rid of him I'll do it myself, okay?"

He looked warily at Nick.  "Your issue, but my club and I don't want
you giving any other customers ideas that it's okay to manhandle the
women here.  You got that?"

Nick looked normal again.  "Yeah, okay."  But when Anton stepped
back, Maura stepped up and slapped Nick across the face with enough
force to snap his head back .

"Don't you ever fucking hold me back like that again, goddamn you,
you know better."		  

Nick fingered his jaw.  "I earned that.  Have you got it out of your
system, or should I plan for another round later?"

"Assume nothing.  I've learned not to."


3

Maura noticed  Robyn waving at her from the stage.  "Gotta go earn
the rent.  I'm off at 2."

"I'll be here."

"Well ain't that new and different."

"So everything cool?" Sage asked as he gave her a hand up onstage.

"Nothing I can't handle."

Luc smirked.  "Yeah, right.  Wonder Woman rides again."

"Fuck you, bongo boy."

Predictable as midnight (or 2am), Nick was waiting by the bar when
the band had packed up.  A couple of staff had tried to tell him it
was past closing, but Anton indicated he was waiting for someone and
was to be left alone.

"So."  Maura dropped her bag on the bar and stood in front of Nick,
who was looking a little uncertain.  Good, she thought.  Uncertain
should be at the top of his list right now.

"So."  He added the only honest thing there was to add.  "What now?"

"You tell me."  Shit, that was a lame dodge, she cringed inside at
the cliché.

"I already did."

By now Anton had passed discreetly back and forth several times, not
so much concerned about another confrontation as he was eager to lock
up and get home before daylight trapped them all.  On the fourth
pass, still hearing nothing but not very clever monosyllabic verbal
swordplay, he stopped in front of them.

"Look, I hate to interrupt this sophisticated debate, but I'd really
like to call it a night.  Maura, why don't you bring your whipping
boy," she glared at that, but Anton could sense a bitch-slap festival
coming as sure as sunrise, "back to the house.  You two have a lot to
talk about, no reason to stay on your feet."

"It's where she thinks best," Nick commented.  Anton cocked an
eyebrow at  his courage.  Maybe this guy was just a fuck-up and not
an asshole.

"Look, I have a place near the waterfront, maybe it'd be more
private, if you feel like dealing with any of this now.  Your call."

She shook her head negative.  Being alone with Nick now would be a
mistake.  She figured he understood that too, but was giving her a
couple of options to let her know the ball was completely in her
court. 

"Nah, Anton's right.  Let's go back home ('home', Nick found it hard
to hear that word attached to somewhere he'd never been) and we'll
see where else this can go tonight.  No promises, though.  If I start
to flame up we'll let it go until later, okay?"

"Okay."  Nick felt wildly grateful she wanted to talk at all,
especially right after his abrupt reappearance.  Then again, she knew
by now vampires were all about 'abrupt'.

"We'll walk, if that's okay," Maura told Anton.  He usually brought
his car for the short trip because he was always ferrying stuff to
the bar.  His exotic top-shelf liquor collection was imported
straight to the house.

They strolled a couple of blocks in silence, the neon of the square
fading to gaslights and moon-scattered shadows from the trees lining
the street.

"I shouldn't have belted you.  That was totally wrong."

"Maybe, maybe not.  Like the joke says, first you have to get his
attention."

"I've always been good at that.  I just don't seem to be very good
at hanging onto it." 

"Not true, Sweet."  He hesitated.  "Have I lost the right to call
you that?"

She shook her head.  "Probably not.  Throwing something away isn't
necessarily permanent.  Some things you can pick up again."

"How many?  All of them?"

Maura stopped short in the shadows between two gaslights a block
from the house.  "Look why don't we drop the metaphor okay?  We both
know we're good at them, but it gets old."

In spite of the situation, Nick smiled.  "I was hoping you'd say
that.  Clever isn't my strong suit nowadays."

They continued to the door, and Maura let them in with her key. 
"Living room's through there.  You need anything?"  She knew Anton
kept a supply of blood in a special fridge, but it was human.  "All I
got is O positive, sorry."

"No Chateau Moo du Pape?"  She didn't respond to the reference so he
let it drop.  "That's okay, I'm fine for now."

She returned to the front room with a bottle of spring water, and
sat in the chair opposite the sofa where Nick was perched.

"Talk to me, Bats.  I already know what, you gotta tell me why."

So he did.  He didn't apologize, he didn't dissemble, he told Maura
the tale beginning to end of LaCroix's "sure thing" and how it turned
out not to be.  He told her what they'd done, what he didn't do, how
sorely he was tempted to tell LaCroix to fuck off and return home,
but in the end he knew the battle would never be over if he didn't do
this one more thing.

"It wasn't about doing the right thing, not like you think.  I
started out to want to listen to LaCroix, but it was only because I
thought he really meant what he said, one more conversation.  I
almost walked away when I knew what he really was after.  But I also
knew he was as good as his word this time, because he really believed
he had me.  I knew he'd back off if I went with him and proved him
wrong.  And I knew if I didn't, he'd never leave you alone.  Not me,
you.  Because he thought everything I am and do was linked to you." 
He stopped then, waiting for a response.

"Why Nicolas, are you finally admitting that true love hasn't
transformed you?"  There was nothing of sarcasm in her voice, it was
more a hint of amusement.

"Okay, okay.  We both know I started on this path before I ever met
you, a hundred years before.  I just misread the signs and thought
I'd wound up somewhere different than I was, I thought I was still on
the road when I'd actually found a reason to stop moving on."  He
paused a little self-consciously.  "Here I go with metaphor again…
but I honestly had it figured out before LaCroix's proposal.  You're
not responsible for the life I have now, but what we have together is
just one more thing that makes it worth hanging onto.  All that
remained was to convince him."  He braced himself for her protest of
one of the words she'd love to strike from his vocabulary.  

"Well thank you jesus, you have fine tuned your need to convince." 
Nick wore a very Schanke-like look that said he had no idea how to
take her.  "I can't say I totally understand you not telling me, and
I really can't say that I agree with any of it.  For christsake,
almost three millennia between you and you still act like adolescents
high on testosterone.  But I believe, I really do Bats, I believe
that you felt truer than true it was the only thing to do, and that
you weren't just doing it for yourself."  She sighed though, and
dropped her head in her hands.  "I wish I could look at this as some
sort of willing sacrifice on my part, even if I didn't  know about
it.  I'm trying really hard to see it as being pushed out of the way
of an oncoming truck, and getting very banged up in the process." 
When she looked him in the face again, her eyes were haunted.  "I'm
trying, but I can't.  Not right now, anyway.  I could tell you all
about it, I could tell you about being reduced to begging people for
information I knew they didn't have.  I could admit that my fucking
ego likely took a worse beating than my feelings.  But you know all
of that, you know it.  How could you not?  If you didn't you'd just
have tracked down my phone number and called and said 'honey, I'm
home'.  I know this must have been hard for you, to come here and
face me."

"Not as hard as you might think," Nick told her.  "What else was
there to do… I couldn't stay in Toronto without you, and I knew you
wouldn't come back on your own.  You're right, how could I not know
the pain I was causing you?  I think even if we weren't linked by
blood, I'd have felt it anyway.  But I couldn't change the course I'd
taken without giving up everything, and that includes you.  So for
once I'm not here to beg forgiveness, to beat that old 's' word to
death one more time.  I'm here to tell you I made a decision based
not on what I felt or believed, but what I know to be true.  800
years connected to someone leaves little room for illusion, Maura,
and I had no illusions at all that LaCroix would hound you until you
were forced to leave, and he still wouldn't have what he wanted."

She was shaking her head in exasperation.  "No, goddammit, you just
don't get it."  Why couldn't he believe that LaCroix simply didn't
register on her list of serious challenges?

He wasn't backing down this time.  "No, Maura, it's you who don't
get it.  For all of your insight and empathy, for all of your
experience with my kind, you are mortal.  You - are - mortal.  That
means you really haven't a clue how powerful someone like LaCroix is,
how many ways he can make you doubt yourself, doubt me, doubt your
very life.  He would simply outlast you.  And even though you'd
probably never do it for yourself, he'd convince to you leave for my
sake.  He'd find a way.  LaCroix is not some con artist with a bag of
magic tricks, Maura, he is immortal, and stronger and smarter and
more cynical than you could be on your best day.  You say you don't
fear him, well you should.  Your self-possession and quick wit may
outmatch most mortals, but for most of my kind they're an
entertainment, nothing more.  LaCroix was already tiring of the game."

"But he knew if he killed me he'd lose you forever."

Nick's tone became very patient, as if he were explaining something
complex to a child.  "He doesn't have to kill you, Sweet.  He can run
you, without ever being able to hypnotize you or bring you over, he
can run you from inside of your own mind.  And nothing in the
universe could have persuaded him not to use that power to separate
us for good."

"Well if all that's true, how can you possibly believe he's going to
back off?  What could you possibly have told him that I didn't?"

"That what I am and how I exist now, for better or worse, come from
my own design, not someone else's distraction."

Maura considered this for a few moments, staring at Nick, then at
the floor, then out the window.  He wasn't begging forgiveness, he
wasn't admitting mistakes.  The usual repertoire of confrontation had
been completely abandoned, and it was confusing her.  It began to
sink in, more quickly and clearly than she was sure he expected.  "So
what you're telling me," she looked as if she couldn't quite believe
she was saying the words, "is that it's kind of like the scene in the
movie where the guy tells the crazy broad, 'go ahead and kill my
fiancée, I still won't marry you'."

Nick tried not to laugh, but couldn't stop himself.  "Yeah I guess
that's about it.  Once he believed that I wouldn't give up my life
here no matter who was or wasn't living with me, he realized the game
was up."

"Just like that.  After 800 years, suddenly he sees the light."

"I guess it took that long to find the right approach."

Maura rose now and looked down at him.  "Fucking hell, Just Nick,
give me one good reason why I shouldn't stuff you full of garlic and
shove you out the door at sunrise, just to be rid of your fucked up
'family'.  Especially when you just told me in excruciating detail
how life would just go merrily on if I left forever."  She knew he
had said no such thing but couldn't keep from playing the "boo hoo"
card one last time.

He raised both eyebrows, smiled cluelessly.  "I can't think of a
single one.  Except maybe you might want to see what happens next.  I
mean, where's your sense of adventure?"

He rose and took a step toward her, but she backed away.  "Slow
down.  I have a lot of shit spinning in my head right now, and it
needs to settle.  Okay?"

He nodded, understanding, but reached a quick hand out to touch her
face.  "Okay.  I don't want to suffocate you in an avalanche of
logic, reasons, and metaphor.  Not to mention film noir scenarios. 
Are you working tomorrow?"

"It's Saturday night, isn't it?"  

"Do you think you can holster  your weapon just for the next five
minutes?"

He was right.  "Yeah, I'm working."

"Mind if I come by?"

"Well I know I've been gone awhile, but I seem to remember it's a
free country."

Nick rubbed his index finger between his closed eyes the way he
always did when Schanke was trying his patience.  Oops.  

"Yeah, come by.  I'll leave your name at the door.

She walked him to the front door where he turned to look at her, all
playfulness gone.  "I love you," he said simply, not touching her. 
She leaned forward and kissed him, soft but brief, one hand against
his cheek.

"I love you too, Bats.  Our cross to bear, I guess.  Pardon the
metaphor."

He gave a mock shudder.  "You had to pick that one… see you tomorrow
night."

Nick paused at the gate to look back at Maura a last time, and saw
her watching him.  They held each other's gaze a moment, saying
nothing, and when he turned to go she watched him as he disappeared
in the darkness.

"So, I didn't hear any evidence of fisticuffs."

She jumped a mile as she locked the door.  Anton had appeared from
nowhere and stood in the foyer, transparently curious.

"Jesus, Anton!  I suppose you were spying on us, too?"

He drew himself to his full height, properly offended.  "I did no
such thing.  I merely remained nearby in case my assistance was
needed."

She smacked his arm.  "Bullshit.  You vampires are so full of
bullshit!  But as long as you were 'nearby'…" she paused uncertainly.
Surely they'd gotten to know each other well enough for him to have
an opinion even if he didn't know Nick, but she felt stupid asking. 
It required no special powers for him to guess the unspoken question.

"Well since you are almost asking me, I will almost tell you. 
You're a smart lady, sometimes too smart for your own good.  Why
don't you forget about teaching that immortal of yours a lesson, and
concentrate on fixing what it was that got broken?  Since by your own
admission you'll be linked by blood forever, you try to make the most
of it."

"Kind of like this house here, adapt to the structure instead of
expecting it to adapt to you?"

"You're right.  You are far to dependent upon metaphor.  But that
sounds like an accurate assessment."

Maura frowned as the approached the stairs.  "I dunno, Anton, I've
really come to doubt my judgment.  Not Nick's intentions, but my own
brainpower here.  What if I'm totally wrong, what if we both are, and
there's no way we can make this bizarro match work?"

Anton stopped short, blocking your path.  "Wrong question. How
about, do you want to risk being miserable by giving it another try,
or walk away and make it a sure thing?"

She eyed him closely.  "So where did you pick up that metaphor, huh?"

Anton shrugged, then smiled proudly.  "Head croupier for Bugsy
Siegel.  Casinos are schools for life.  Or one's approximation of it."

She couldn't stop laughing as they walked upstairs, but Maura took
that lesson to heart.  Bugsy may have wound up with sleeping with the
fishes (she couldn't remember where he ended up actually, but
extended the metaphor), but he was one shrewd dude.  When she got to
her room, she opened her wallet to look at Nick's well-creased
goodbye note, hoping as always it would inspire her to some grand
insight.  She was surprised - but not surprised - to find a local
phone number written at the bottom, in Nick's handwriting.  When did
he do that… shit, when did he do anything?  Sometimes she'd give her
right arm for even one of those magic powers.  She thought for a
moment, then smiled and shook her head.  "Three months, and finally
you give something up, you fancy-ass piece of paper…"

She reached for the phone and dialed.  Not waiting for a greeting,
she said "I hope you didn't find another roommate.  I'm gonna be
needing a place to stay when I blow this tourist town."