Usual disclaimers, I don't own any of the characters I abused in this
story and will give them back when I'm done (if I have too <g>). Any
and all Dark Perks have my permission to archive this wherever they'd
like, all others must ask. Enjoy!

The 24th of the Month

By: Cousin Mary 

June 1998

Tracy stared down at the Scrabble board in front of her. "Doth?" She
raised a speculative eyebrow at her opponent. She looked up at the
vaulted ceiling of the abandoned church, as if to ask for strength. "I
don’t think that’s a word."

Vachon smiled at her, "Sure it is." He scooted closer to her on the
thread barren couch. "As in ‘methinks the lady doth protest too
much.’"

"Vachon." Tracy moaned wearily, "It doesn’t count if it hasn’t been
used in a century! You know that. You agreed to it too." She shoved
him away a bit. 

Vachon just smiled, shrugged and moved a few inches closer.

"I swear," She grumbled and edged away from him. "I don’t know what it
is but sometimes you just -really- get on my nerves." She said
testily.

"It’s because it’s almost time for your cycle." He told her matter-of-
factly, still grinning.

"What are you talking about?" Tracy snapped, then suddenly realised he
meant her period. He was saying she was in a bad mood because of
P.M.S! "Why that’s the most sexist thing I’ve ever heard! Every time a
women decides she’s not going to take anymore crap, some –guy- brings
up-"

"It’s the truth," He interrupted, his grin turning wolfish. "I can
tell."

"How can-?" The light dawned, he could smell it? "Well that’s just
gross."

"There’s nothing disgusting about it." He insisted, "It’s a natural
part of life, beautiful." 

"Yeah, cramps, bloating, muscle aches, headaches, all the glories of
nature." She griped and since she was suffering from all of the above,
she wasn’t feeling too perky at the moment.

Vachon just smiled and moved closer again.

"What’s with you anyway?" She asked. She was against the arm of the
couch now, she couldn’t back up anymore, and she was -not- in the
mood.

Another grin, "Nothing."

"Tell me." Tracy ordered, working very hard not to clench her teeth,
what the hell was with him tonight?

Vachon ran his hand up her arm, then rubbed the backs of his knuckles
across her cheek, not quite making eye contact. "Did you know that
right before her time is when a woman is most fertile? You can’t know
what that smells like." 

Under normal circumstances his touch would have turned Tracy into a
puddle of goo, but as it was his speech was reminding her just a tad
too much of an episode of ‘Wild Kingdom.’ "So what you’re saying is,"
She wrinkled her nose in disgust, "I’m in heat and it’s turning you
on?" 

"Um." He finally looked her full in the face again, he’d been sort of
hunched over as if he were trying to climb into her lap so he had to
crane his neck awkwardly to look her in the eyes. "I suppose…that’s
one way to…put it." He said slowly, suddenly realising that this
seduction wasn’t going too well. Maybe he should have let her get away
with that triple word score misspelling of ‘tourniquet’?

"Damn it Vachon!" She shoved him off her and stood up. "I have to be
at work in an hour and now all I’m going to be able to think of,
riding around in that freakin’ Caddy all night, is that Nick’s
smelling me!" She shuttered. "That’s just great!"

Vachon stared at her stunned for a moment, blinked and asked shakily,
"Uh, you know about-?"

Tracy paused mid-rant. "Aw hell," That’s not how she’d planned on
letting him know she’d figured out her partner was a vampire, as it
was she’d just wasted one of the best weapons in her arsenal! She shot
a glare at him, "Yeah, I know."

Vachon opened his mouth but nothing came out, so he shut it again.
Then he ran his hand through his hair and opened his mouth again to
explain, but nothing came out this time either.

With a disgusted snort, Tracy grabbed her coat and headed for the
door. "I’m outta here."

"Tracy!" Vachon jumped to his feet. "Wait."

"I have to get to work, see you later." She called out over her
shoulder, not even breaking her stride.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Later that night, Tracy and Nick were indeed that ‘freakin’ Caddy.'

"Switch on CERK will ya?" Nick ordered off handedly.

Tracy (aka Queen o’ PMS) decided now was time to take a stand against
her oafish partner, she switched on CDRK (all German industrial, all
the time.)

"Tracy?" Nick glanced her way, finally noticing she wasn’t her normal
easygoing self. 

Cheered on by hormones (evil hormones), Tracy turned to her partner
and asked, "Does Dr. Lambert’s period ever make you wanna just push
her down over a gurney and have your wicked way with her?"

Nick’s eye brows shot into his hairline and he jerked the wheel,
sending the Caddy into a jack-knife in the middle of an intersection. 

"What?!" He managed to gasp out.

"Not that I doubt she’s –enjoy- it," Tracy added thoughtfully,
ignoring the way the number of late night drivers honked impatiently
at the huge boat-like green auto blocking their way.

Nick slowing pulled his car over to the side of the road and just
stared at his partner for a while. "What the heck is the matter with
you?"

Tracy glared at him, "Nothing! I’m just tired of you always ordering
me around, ‘Tracy finish the paperwork,’ ‘Tracy change the station,’
‘Tracy go do the legwork on our new case,’" She made a face. "Not that
I ever get any of the –credit-..." 

"What’s bringing this up now?" Nick asked.

"Can’t you tell?" Tracy snapped, "Vachon sure didn’t seem to have a
problem."

"Vachon?" Nick did his best to look confused.

"Oh, yeah, right," Tracy shot him a look, "I forgot, you don’t know
him at all right?"

Nick started to respond, but Tracy cut him off.

"Sure, you told Reese you used to use him as an informant, but how
could I be expected to take note of something like that?" Tracy then
slapped her forehead in mock insight, "Oh wait, I’m a detective!" She
glared at her partner and got out of the Caddy, slamming the door
behind her.

Grumbling under his breath about 'women,' Nick pulled back into
traffic, let her find her own way home!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Tracy suddenly realised that thanks to her lovely and dramatic
exit…she was in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh yeah Vetter, 10 points for style, zilcho for forethought." She
mumbled and headed of in the direction she was –pretty- sure home was
in.

Fourteen blocks later, our menstrually-challenged heroine had been:
splashed with mud by a passing truck, propositioned by no less than 4
hookers (of both genders) and almost mugged (though when she’d pulled
her semi-automatic he’d run off.) But eventually, she arrived at her
doorstep.

Throwing her mud-stained jacket over the back of a chair, kicking off
her shoes, Tracy was half-way undressed by the time she reached her
bathroom door. As she pulled open the door, her blouse was hanging on
to just her wrist and she was unhooking her bra with one hand. Of
course, her bathroom wasn’t empty. 

"Ello Baby-Jane!" A soaped up individual sang out.

"Ack!" Tracy screamed and slammed the door. After a second, her brain
registered the fact that she did know the naked man in her shower, and
she calmed down…a bit. After pulling her clothes back on, Tracy
pounded on the bathroom door and shouted, "You have five minutes
Screed! If you're not out by then I'm calling the cops!"

"I thought ya wuz tha cops!" He shouted back, foundling her pink
rubber ducky with glee.

"I'm homicide." She declared, making that fact sound very much a
threat.

There was a pause, the Screed answered back, almost politely, "Gotcha,
five minutes, no mo'."

Tracy sat down on her couch and waited. She tried not to watch the
clock but couldn't help it. She got up and paced, but she still
couldn't get the vision of the naked carouche out of her head. "I
gotta get out of here." She mumbled, grabbed her coat and darted out
the door.

She was already out in front of her building before she realised her
car was still at the precinct and she didn't have anywhere to go even
if she did. 

"Well, hell." She mumbled. Slowly, she turned on her heels to head
back into her building, but then a vision of a wet and glistening
Screed flashed before her eyes and she decided to sit on the small
patch of crab grass that past for a lawn instead. 

Considering how Tracy's day had been going, she shouldn't have been
too surprised when a black Jaguar jumped the curb and almost hit her. 

Scurrying out of the way on hands and knees, our tired and most
traumatised heroine managed to save her mud-streaked hide. Since the
car's windows were tinted black, she couldn't see in. But she didn't
care. Whoever was behind the wheel was going to get a piece of her
mind! "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

The door of the Jaguar then opened and a long Armani-encased leg
emerged, followed by another, and soon an elegantly dressed man was
standing over Tracy (who was still on the ground.) "Hello ma petite."

Tracy merely growled at him, but rather than scaring him, this seemed
to please the stranger to no end. 

"My, my, you -do- have spirit, but then, I already suspected that."
The man smiled down at her in a way that made Tracy feel like a third
grader who'd just done something cute. Tracy pushed herself to her
feet and tried her best to look intimidating. "Who are you and what do
you want?" 

"I, am Lucien Lacroix." He gave her a small almost mocking bow, "And
this, is your lucky day."

Tracy gave an indelicate snort as she mentally reviewed said day. Then
she frowned slightly, Lucien Lacroix, she recognised that name. She'd
done her homework, Lacroix was the voice of the Nightcrawler and also
owner of the Raven, which pretty much guaranteed he was a vampire.
"God I'm just Miss Popularity with you guys lately aren't I?" She
snapped, she really didn't need this. 

"You 'guys'?" He echoed with a raised eyebrow.

Tracy busied herself looking for something wooden and preferably
pointy. "Yeah, 'you guys.' What the hell do you want?" If he made one
crack about PMS she was gonna tear his head off with her bare hands. 

Lacroix regarded the woman before him with renewed interest.
Originally he'd planned on learning more of Nicholas's mortal life
through his partner, but this Tracy Vetter might prove interesting in
her own right. "Perhaps you will join me for a ride? It is a most
pleasant night."

Tracy shot a look over her shoulder at the gorgeous car and at the
equally intriguing vampire and was momentarily tempted. But no, sure
she had a bit of a wild streak, but she had a feeling that if she gave
into it with this man there was no guarantee she'd return home in one
piece, or at least with all her plasma. Finally she spotted a suitable
weapon and quickly scooped it up and hid it behind her back. "No
offence, but I've already got a boyfriend." 

Lacroix again raised an eyebrow, he'd seen her grab that bit of fallen
tree branch and hide it. Well, she was certainly interesting wasn't
she? Did she know what he was or had she simply gotten lucky? "I see."


Suddenly there was a swooping sound as a newly buffed and polished
Screed landed nearby, he'd checked for pulses first and since Lacroix
was in the habit of masking himself, the carouche didn't even notice
he was there.

"Listen Baby-Jane, I's sorry 'bout ya findin' me's all nekkid en yer
abode like, I jus' though' ya woulda mind iffen I come ov'r as lon' as
I cleans up aft'r werds." Screed rubbed his bald head bashfully, "I
also though' maybe yew woulda tell old Vachonetti 'bout none o' this?
I mean, 'e's a nice guy en all, but I don't think 'e'd believe me if-"
Suddenly he noticed the ancient vampire, and somehow his body tried to
gasp and scream at the same time, this sent him into a coughing fit. 

Lacroix looked on in amusement as Tracy rolled her eyes and began
pummelling the carouche on the back. 

"Breath Screed, breath." Tracy ordered. And to think, before tonight
she'd never even known a vampire could turn blue. 

After Screed had managed to regain what little composure was possible
at a moment like this, he decide to do what was best for old Screed,
and run away. In less than a second, he was in the air and on his way
to Vegas.

Well, that pretty much answered Lacroix's question, "So you -do- know
of my kind."

"'Your 'kind?'" Tracy did her best to look perplexed, then she gave
up. "To hell with this." She mumbled, then turned around and marched
back to her now carouche-free apartment (where her Midol awaited.) 

Lacroix stood there a full minute, shocked that she had just -walked-
away from him. Then a small smile lit his face, well he supposed he
could forgive her this once. He eyed the stake Tracy had dropped on
her way inside. He'd just have to make sure that next time he met with
this young woman, it wasn't around the 24th of the month, if he
didn't, it could prove hazardous to his health.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Send all comments and bottles of Midol to anteros@juno.com