"Forever Knight" is famous for its tag scenes, which often leave you hanging, wondering what happened next. One of the more notorious of these is first season's "Cherry Blossoms." I've had this particular story lying around for months, just waiting for me to finish up one small segment. Thanks to a couple of comments made not long ago on forkni-l concerning the tag scene and what might have happened after it ended, I finally got motivated to do just that. Dutiful disclaimers: This story is based on the "Forever Knight" TV series to which I have no claim, other than a deep and abiding fondness and respect for the talent involved. The characters of Nick, Natalie and Janette aren't mine, though I'd be awfully proud if they were. As it is, I'm content to take them out and play with them from time to time. The story uses some dialogue and situations taken from the aforementioned "Cherry Blossoms." A big thank you goes to Kathy Whelton and Nancy Kaminski for their insightful and extremely helpful comments. I think it's a better story than it would have been without them. Permission granted to archive this story on Mel's FK fanfic site and the ftp site. =========================== Cherry Blossoms, Trouble Blooms by Cindy Ingram April 1999 =========================== For a moment, it had seemed like old times. The intoxicating feel of her in his arms, the frenzied rapture of the kiss, the sheer elation of succumbing, if only for a brief time, to the dark hunger she aroused in him. Centuries passed, relationships changed, but the passion always remained -- potent and provocative, smoldering embers just waiting for a spark. So caught up had he been in those heady sensations that he'd failed to notice the rumbling of the old freight elevator as it started its ascent from the garage below. Nothing could have reached him through that lust-filled haze, except ... "Nick --" Natalie's voice. It was a jarring return to reality. "Oh." Awkward silence followed as she drew up short, then hovered uncertainly in the doorway of the elevator. "I'm sorry." She laughed self-consciously, obviously embarrassed at having walked in on what was clearly a private moment. "I thought you'd be asleep. I'll just ... go," she said, pointing over her shoulder, "and ... and --" "Nat," Nick called, but she didn't seem to hear him. "Natalie!" he repeated in a louder voice. This time, she stopped, turning toward him with a wide-eyed questioning gaze. He waved her back in. "This is ... Janette," he said, introducing his companion with a self-conscious gesture, then added quickly, "We're just old friends." For some reason, it bothered him that Natalie might get the wrong idea about what she'd just seen, though he couldn't say why. And it *was* the wrong idea. It had been a momentary lapse, nothing more, he assured himself. No reason for anyone to be concerned, least of all Natalie. But he cringed inwardly at the predatory gleam in Janette's eyes as she turned to acknowledge the flustered coroner. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Natalie. Nick has spoken of you ..." Casting a teasing glance in his direction, her smile widened. "... often." What little comfort level Nick had still possessed vanished. Janette in a playful mood was a prospect too terrifying to contemplate, and her continued proximity didn't help matters. Neither did the hard stare Natalie directed at him in response to Janette's words. He was all but sweating blood when Janette finally moved away, her satin-encased hips swinging seductively in her black gown as she strolled across the loft. Turning his back to both women, he breathed a sigh of relief, reluctant to even *think* about what Nat might have discovered had she walked in a mere two seconds later. Rubbing his hands together, Nick silently congratulated himself on a narrow escape ... in more ways than one. Until he heard Janette speak again. "We'll have to get together and ... talk." His head whipped around, and his mouth opened. But as he intercepted the measuring looks that passed between the two women, he quickly decided, at least in this case, that discretion was definitely the better part of valor. His mouth snapped shut. "So ... you and Nick are old friends?" Natalie's tone was one of polite curiosity, but he caught the slight narrowing of her eyes as she tracked Janette's slow advance across the room. Janette smiled. "Oh, yes," she acknowledged, head tilted in sly amusement. "*Very* old." "Really?" A faint hint of frost crept into Natalie's voice, and Janette's smile widened. "And how old is that? Exactly?" The dark-haired vampiress leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Old enough," she replied archly, sending yet another mischievous glance Nick's way. Before he could intervene, Natalie spoke again. "Do I take it you're from around here?" The tone was polite, almost too polite, and it drew Janette's attention back to the coroner. Her smile disappeared as she studied the mortal woman with an openly assessing stare. "Non," she answered. "Not originally. But I've lived in Toronto for quite some time. I own a nightclub here. You may have heard of it. The Raven?" When Natalie merely raised her eyebrows, Janette smiled condescendingly. "Ah. Well. Perhaps you don't get out that much. I must say, I'm surprised Nicolas has never brought you with him on one of his visits. He's always talking about his ... friend, Natalie." She placed a faint but noticeable emphasis on the word "friend." Then, as if struck by a thought, her eyes widened in mock surprise. "Has he never mentioned me?" "No," Natalie said, through tightly clenched teeth, "I don't believe he has." Janette's lips formed a slight moue of disappointment, then she smiled again. "Well, you know how these men are," she said, eyes twinkling as she turned to gaze at Nick. "They simply *must* have their little secrets, non?" Nick glared back at Janette with clenched jaw. Enough was enough. It was time to put an end to her fun-and-games before serious damage was done. As he moved toward them, he ignored the small voice inside his head that wondered, 'Damage to what, exactly?' "Janette, didn't you say you had an appointment to keep?" he asked, glancing pointedly at his watch. "Please ... don't let us hold you up. I know how you hate being late." Nick stared at her hard. He was treading on thin ice, he knew, but the time for subtlety had passed. His one-time lover returned his stare for several beats, then smiled indulgently. But there was a smoldering gleam in her eyes that boded none too well for him when next they met. "You are correct, Nicolas. *Thank* you for reminding me." She turned back to the other woman. "Natalie, it has been a pleasure. I'm sorry our visit must be cut short, but I meant what I said. We really *must* get together some time and compare notes." Janette moved to the sofa to retrieve her discarded evening wrap. Slipping gracefully into it, she glanced up toward the skylight, then stopped with an annoyed sigh. "Merde! I almost forgot. My car is downstairs. Nicolas, I don't suppose ... ?" Her voice trailed off as her gaze shifted from Nick to a tight-lipped Natalie. She smiled. "No. Perhaps not. Well, at least the sun is down now. I do so *hate* driving in the daylight." With a last pointed glance at Nick, she crossed the room and entered the elevator. "Janette." Pausing, she turned to look back at him. "Thank you." With a smile and a graceful nod, she allowed the elevator door to close, and Nick found himself alone with a sober-faced Natalie. Which, oddly enough, no longer seemed such a good idea. +++++++ A short time later, the door to the old freight elevator clanged shut for a second time, shielding Nick from Natalie's unsettling gaze. The guileless grin kept firmly in place since Janette's departure vanished the moment the elevator began its descent. For the past half-hour or more, he had been the sole recipient of Natalie's unwavering scrutiny. She hadn't bothered to disguise her curiosity but instead faced him squarely, arms folded, lips pursed in a considering fashion. "So ... old friend, eh?" she asked. "Yes." It seemed a safe, noncommittal answer. "I suppose you know each other pretty well." He nodded. "*How* well?" she persisted. He cleared his throat nervously. "Like I said, Nat, she's ... an old friend." "Uh-huh. I got that. But how long have you known her?" He hesitated. "A long time." Natalie opened her mouth, then stopped, studying him for what seemed an unbearably long interval. Abruptly, she shook her head. "You know what? Forget it," she said briskly. "Obviously, you'd rather not talk about it, and it's none of my business anyway. So just forget I asked, okay?" As if to demonstrate how disinterested she really was, Natalie shrugged and turned to punch the elevator call button. "Nat, wait," Nick protested. "Where are you going?" "Back home. I have the night off. I tried calling a few times today, but I couldn't reach you, so I decided to come over and make sure everything was okay ... with the old man and what he saw. But, obviously, you've got everything under control, so ... I'm outta here." "Nat." Gently, he grabbed her arm, halting her retreat. "Please, don't go. You just got here. Why don't you kick off your shoes and stay a while? After all," he added, smiling persuasively, "if you leave, you won't get the answers to your questions, now will you?" "And why should I break my streak now?" Natalie deadpanned, tugging halfheartedly against the hold he had on her arm. Instead of releasing her, he moved his thumb back and forth across the inside of her elbow, caressing the sensitive spot in a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm. Though she appeared outwardly unaffected, he could detect a slight rise in her heart rate. He continued to smile down at her until she finally relented. "Oh, all right," she muttered. "I suppose I can stay for a few minutes. But if I don't get back in time to feed Sydney his dinner, they'll have to declare my apartment an official disaster area," she warned sternly. Nick laughed softly and, moving his hand to her elbow, gently steered her toward the sofa. "Well, I certainly wouldn't want to be responsible for any unnatural catastrophes." Natalie snorted and rolled her eyes at the pun. He grinned back unrepentantly. "I promise not to keep you too long," he said, slipping the purse strap off her shoulder and placing her bag on the end table. He waited until she had settled herself on the sofa, then sat down beside her. "Nat, I'm sorry if I seemed ... secretive. It's just better for you not to have any contact with the Community." "The Community?" "Yes." Nick hesitated. The further Natalie ventured into his world, the more danger she would face. But unlike the old proverb, what she didn't know *could* hurt her, at least in this case. It could even get her killed unless he could impress upon her how very precarious their situation was. "It's how we ... vampires ... refer to ourselves -- the local populace," he answered at last. "Janette is a central part of that." "But if she's your friend --" "She *is* my friend, yes," Nick interrupted, "but ... she's been here a long time, Nat, and her ties to the Community run deep." Her ties to him ran even deeper, but he saw no need to mention that. Natalie didn't reply right away but instead stared off into space. Finally, she sighed as she turned her gaze to meet his. "Apparently yours go pretty deep, too, Nick." Her voice was subdued. "More so than I realized. I thought you were trying to separate yourself from other vampires." "I am, Nat. But Janette --" "She said you visit her at that club she owns. It sounds like it happens on a pretty regular basis ..." Though the words trailed away, Nick heard the question she wouldn't ask. He sighed and took her hands in his, willing her to look at him. She did. "You remember when I told you about LaCroix? The one who brought me across? My ... master. My creator, so to speak." Slowly, Natalie nodded. "LaCroix also crossed Janette. He was her master, too." Natalie's face registered her surprise. "Really? So, that would make her ... what, exactly? The vampire version of a sister?" she asked, regarding him curiously. Nick glanced away. "Something like that," he murmured. He wasn't comfortable discussing the convoluted relationships of his vampire family with Natalie, and his uneasiness increased when confronted with her questioning gaze. He felt torn between the irrational urge to explain himself and his actions, like an unfaithful husband caught in the act, and the need to conceal from her the true extent of his past relationship with Janette. One which, in another time and under different circumstances, they might have shared again. "So ... how long?" "What?" It took a moment for her question to sink in. When it did, he glanced down at his clasped hands. "From the beginning," he said softly. "She was there when LaCroix brought me across." Natalie sat unmoving. Carefully avoiding his eyes, she asked, "Were you --?" In a single fluid movement, Nick rose from the sofa. "You know," he interrupted, "I promised I wouldn't keep you too long. Sydney, remember?" He smiled warmly, hoping to take some of the sting out of the abrupt dismissal. But he just couldn't let the questions go any further. He wasn't ready to tell her about that part of his life. Was it his imagination, or did he see a flicker of disappointment in her eyes? He couldn't be certain. When he looked again, there was nothing but resigned amusement and a knowing gleam that told him she knew very well what he was doing. "Right ... Sydney," she said, with a slow nod. For an instant, it seemed as if she might say more. But the moment passed, and whatever it might have been, she chose not to share. Under the circumstances, he could hardly blame her. She wasn't the only one holding back. With a faint sigh, Natalie rose from the couch and reached for her purse, but Nick beat her to it. She accepted it silently as her eyes caught and held his. Then, without a word, she turned and made her way to the elevator. Even after the door had closed between them, the feelings generated by her intense gaze lingered. Again, Nick felt a nagging twinge of guilt that he hadn't been more forthcoming. But it wasn't necessary for Natalie to know everything about his past. And he hadn't done anything wrong. He and Nat were friends, nothing more. It was absurd to let it bother him this way. There was absolutely no reason for it. Just as there was no reason to think the faint smile on his lips was in any way related to Natalie's apparent jealousy over Janette's presence in the loft. No reason at all. +++++++ A short time later, Natalie let herself into her apartment and flicked on the light switch next to the door. She'd taken no more than two or three steps before she realized she wasn't alone. There, curled up on her living room sofa, was Janette. Natalie halted in the middle of the foyer. "How did you get in?" she demanded. Janette smiled, sapphire eyes bright with mischief. "You've been around Nicolas all this time and you have yet to learn there's no such thing as a closed door for a vampire?" She tilted her head, and her smile widened. "We have our ways." One eyebrow raised, Natalie stared at her in stony silence. Janette sighed. "You have a very helpful ... oh, what do you call it? Building superintendent?" The devilish smile returned full force. "In fact, he was quite *eager* to be of service. I found him deliciously accommodating." Natalie froze, a feeling of dread sweeping through her. "Oh, no. Please. Tell me you didn't ..." She trailed off, too dismayed to finish the thought. "Certainly not!" Janette looked offended. "He's not at *all* my type." She shuddered ostentatiously, then eyed Natalie with a smug expression. "Actually, I told him we were friends and merely ... *suggested* ... that he let me in to wait for you." Her lips curved in a sly smile. "I must say, it took very little effort to persuade him." Natalie released the breath she'd been holding, relieved that, for the moment at least, her fears had proven groundless. Her shoulders sagged as the strain of the past 24 hours suddenly caught up with her. "I need a drink," she commented to no one in particular, turning to make a beeline for the kitchen. As she poured herself a glass of white wine, she paused to glance at Janette, who stared back, one eyebrow arched in silent amusement. With a gusty sigh, Natalie grabbed a black mug from a hook by the sink and opened the refrigerator door. She pulled out a bottle and poured its contents into the mug then popped it into the microwave for a few seconds before carrying both it and her drink back into the living room. Settling down at the opposite end of the sofa from Janette, she leaned over to pass the mug to her visitor. "You'd better bring some more with you next time," she said. "I'm almost out." Janette nodded absently before taking a sip from the ceramic mug. Her eyes closed involuntarily as a shiver of pleasure coursed through her body. Natalie watched silently for a few seconds, then spoke. "I didn't expect to see you there tonight. It gave me quite a start." "I noticed." Janette opened her eyes and focused on Natalie. "Nicolas ran into some difficulty with an old acquaintance and required my assistance. Afterwards, we were forced to spend the day in a perfectly horrid warehouse until the sun went down." Natalie looked at her. "Old acquaintance?" she echoed. "You don't mean the old Chinese gentleman ... " "Oui," Janette replied. "He remembered us from an incident that took place in his childhood. A grudge he bore that arose from one of Nicolas' foolish notions. Nicolas didn't mention this to you?" "Not a word. But then, I suppose his mind was on other things at the time," Natalie remarked, smiling faintly. "So," Janette said, "after I left ... Nicolas suspected nothing?" Natalie shook her head. "Not a clue. I'd say right about now he's busy congratulating himself on a narrow escape." The two grinned at each other in perfect accord until it dawned on them what they were doing. Janette's mask of cool indifference immediately slid into place, while Natalie cleared her throat and looked away. In the sudden silence that fell, Janette took another sip of the warm blood and pursed her lips. "We let him off too easily, you know," she mused. "Sometimes, my Nicolas can be quite naive. Not to realize that I would naturally have to satisfy my curiosity about the ... other woman ... in his life." She shook her head in silent bemusement. "Mmm," Natalie responded dryly. "And apparently it still hasn't dawned on him how much his partner loves to gossip. Honestly, did he really think Schanke would keep quiet about all those visits to the Raven?" Natalie snorted softly and rolled her eyes. They sat quietly for a few moments, savoring their respective drinks. Then, Natalie started to laugh, eliciting a quizzical look from Janette. "I was just thinking about Nick's face when I walked in on you two," she explained. "I haven't seen him look that cornered since he found out he was being partnered with Schanke." "Mmm," Janette responded. "And how much more nervous would he be now if he knew of our little ... truce ... I wonder?" "Ha! I think we both have a pretty good idea." Natalie's lips curled in a faint smirk. "Think we should tell him?" Janette appeared to mull it over a moment, then shook her head. "Non, I think it's better if we keep it our little secret. For now," she added, eyes dancing. "In the meantime, we'll let Nicolas think he has everything under control, and only we will know otherwise. You are tolerable enough ... for a mortal ... and I have found our recent association to be quite illuminating. It would be a shame to end it so soon." "Not before I've convinced you to let me study you, at any rate," Natalie agreed, regarding Janette with a speculative gaze. "I'm determined to wear you down." Janette smiled, unperturbed. "Perhaps," she said, "or perhaps not. Either way, this madness of Nicolas' will eventually run its course, and he will be forced to make a decision. When that time comes, may the best ... female ... win." She raised her mug in a pointed toast, which Natalie just as pointedly returned. The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees as their eyes met in a challenging stare. Then Natalie smiled. "Easy for you to say," she remarked amiably. "Time is on your side." "True," Janette acknowledged. "But science ... and Nicolas' current determination ... would appear to be on yours." They studied each other warily for another moment or two, silently reevaluating their unofficial truce. But at last, a wordless agreement was reached, and the tension between them eased. "So, tell me, Natalie," Janette said, deftly changing the subject, "did you make certain our Nicolas was suitably flustered after I left?" "Janette, that isn't nice." Natalie scolded, frowning sternly at her visitor, then grinned. "But as it so happens, I did. I couldn't help myself. He was really squirming there at the end." "Hmph! And I missed it!" Janette complained, her disappointed pout belied by the amused gleam in her eyes. "I suppose we could always arrange a repeat performance," Natalie offered. Her grin widened as a look of unholy glee passed between them. Yawning suddenly, Natalie settled back into the cushions and stretched out her legs, resting her feet on the coffee table. "Now ... where did we leave off? Oh, yeah. You were going to tell me about Nick and that English heiress -- the one who wanted to run away with him to London and join an acting troupe?" "Ah, yes." Janette sighed, briefly closing her eyes as her thoughts turned back to another place and time. "He was quite smitten with her, as I recall, though I never could understand why. She was a complete dolt and terribly insipid. But then, Nicolas' taste in women has always been somewhat ... questionable." She flashed Natalie a wicked smile. "Present company excepted, of course." Returning the smile, Natalie raised her wine glass in amused acknowledgement. "Of course." Taking another sip, she added, "Now, about that insipid would-be actress ... " ======= Finis Comments, complaints and lavish words of praise to: "Cindy Ingram" ======================================================== My FK fiction page: http://people.mn.mediaone.net/nancykam/cific.html ======================================================== What's another word for thesaurus? ("Say good Knight, Gracie." -- G. Burns)