This story is based on characters from the "Forever Knight" television series. I'm merely borrowing them for a short time with the very best of intentions and promise to only mangle and mutilate them just a teeny bit. Honest. ======================== Subconsciously Speaking by Cindy Ingram January 1999 ======================== Nick circled the loft, nervous energy making it impossible for him to remain still. He had decided. He would tell her tonight. It wouldn't be easy for either of them, but it had to be done. He owed her that much ... and more. Though it had been his way more often than not to disappear without a word, it was simply not an option for him this time. She had asked so little, and in return, had given so much. He would not hurt her in that way. But hurt her, he would. As much as he wanted to avoid it, he couldn't. She would be angry, of course, her pride masking the pain she would not want him to see. But in the end, she'd be unable to hide it from him. She might even cry a little, and he would take her in his arms, comfort her as best he could. He would hold her, perhaps even daring to kiss away the tears. Perhaps not. Then, after she'd talked him out of leaving -- The sound of shattering glass stopped him in his tracks. He looked down at the slivers embedded in his palm, the remains of a protein shake oozing through his fingers. Quickly, carefully, he moved toward the sink, depositing the broken shards in the waste basket and rinsing the gooey mess off his hand. As he gingerly pulled the glass slivers from his palm, he glanced furtively across the room at Natalie, who was seated on his couch, typing away at her laptop computer. There was no sign that she'd noticed. He couldn't let it happen this time. She must not be allowed to convince him to stay. Maybe it would be better, after all, if he didn't say anything ... "Nat?" Her eyes never left the computer screen. "Hmm?" "It's time." Raising her head, she stared at him blankly. "I'm sorry, I think I missed part of this conversation. Time for what?" "To move on." He forced the words out past the lump in his throat. "For me ... to move on." She stared at him for several seconds. "Oh," she said. Shrugging, she turned her attention back to the computer screen. "Okay." "Nat, I know it's hard --" Nick stopped mid-sentence. He squinted, frowning at her total absorption in the case files she had decided to finish up during her night off. "What did you say?" he asked. "Hmm?" she replied, then lifted her head again. "Oh ... I said okay. But before you leave, could you stop by my place for a minute? I have this light bulb out on the balcony that needs changing. I wouldn't ask, but the Einstein who installed the light fixture put it really high up on the wall, and it's such a pain trying to reach it. It's been burnt out for a week and I've been meaning to ask you, but I keep forgetting." Nick stared at her. "Don't worry, it shouldn't take long," she assured him. "Just levitate up there and ... out with the old, in with the new. Then you can be on your way." She smiled brightly, raising her eyebrows as she waited for a response. "But, Nat, I thought --" Nick stopped, nonplussed. Hesitantly, he continued. "I thought you might be upset." Her smile was replaced by a puzzled frown. "Upset about what, Nick?" "That I'm leaving. That I'm moving on. That we'll never see each other again," he explained in growing bewilderment. Her brow cleared, and she laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, that. Well of course I'll miss you, silly. But, hey, we both knew it couldn't last forever. We gave it our best shot, and it didn't work out. It happens." She shrugged again and returned her attention to the laptop screen. But before Nick could recover from his shock, she snapped her fingers, as if remembering something important, and turned back to face him. "My tape," she said. "What?" Though a mere whisper, the question still managed to convey Nick's absolute confusion. "My 'King Kong' tape. You remember. I left it here ages ago." Nick's head swiveled toward the bookshelf filled with video tapes. He wondered exactly when he'd lost control of the conversation. "The 'King Kong' tape isn't yours, Nat," he replied absently, not really thinking about what he was saying. His mind was reeling, still desperately trying to make sense of the strange direction the evening was taking. He turned back in time to see the frown return to her face, a little more intense, perhaps, than before. "Of course it is," she told him. "I brought it over here for us to watch, but I never took it home. Don't you remember? Come to think of it, I did the same thing with the 'Casablanca' tape. You still have that one, too." Nick stood in the middle of the loft, stubbornly shaking his head. He didn't know what was going on here, but he was certain about one thing. Those tapes were his. Natalie's frown grew more ominous. "Nick," she said, a warning note in her voice, "those tapes are mine. You didn't even want to watch 'Casablanca.' I had to practically force you to. And you *laughed* at 'King Kong,' even though there was nothing funny about it!" Nick continued to shake his head, an answering frown forming on his face. "You're the one who doesn't remember, Nat. You said you liked those movies, but *I* bought the tapes and invited you over to watch them. If you don't believe me, I probably still have the receipt around here somewhere." He probably did, too. LaCroix had always chastised him for being too much of a pack rat. Natalie's eyes narrowed. Her withering glare burned right through him, but he stubbornly resisted a sudden urge to apologize. After several uncomfortable moments, she reached out and slammed her laptop shut. The unexpected noise caused him to jump slightly. "Fine!" She spat the word out at him as she quickly gathered up her belongings. "You know what? Just keep the tapes! They're yours. I don't want them." She made a beeline for the elevator, muttering under her breath. "Half-a-billion dollars and he can't even buy his own crummy tapes. Who needs him?! I'll change my own damn light bulb!" Nick's righteous indignation over the tape dispute vanished as he realized Natalie was storming out of his loft ... and very probably his life. It wasn't supposed to go this way, he thought. Not this way, at all. But though he longed to call out to her, he couldn't seem to find his voice. Nor could he move to stop her. His feet felt rooted to the floor. All he could do was stand there, watching helplessly as the elevator door clanged shut ... ++++++++++ "Nat, wait!" Nick shot bolt upright in bed, the sound of his voice echoing in the dark and empty bedroom. Slowly, he looked around, puzzled for a moment by his surroundings. Then his head dropped to his chest and he sighed in relief. A dream, of course. What else? It was crazy to think Nat would ever have acted that way. She would never react with such total indifference, such callous disregard for his feelings, such petty possessiveness over tapes that were rightfully his. It had been a ridiculous dream brought on by his obvious dread of telling her about his plans to move on -- a subconscious attempt to discourage himself from doing what he must. He couldn't let it stop him, though. He had to tell her about his decision to leave. She had a right to know. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Nick realized it was later than he'd thought. Nat would be here soon. He'd invited her over for one last night together. One last time to see her before he disappeared from her life. He wasted no time in showering and dressing. By the time he heard the elevator engage, he had finished off more than half a bottle of cow's blood. He'd need every bit of his strength to get through this ordeal. When the elevator ground to a halt, Nick was already at the door. A surprised expression crossed Natalie's face as she found him there waiting for her, but it quickly gave way to the brilliant smile he so loved. "How nice. A welcoming committee," she teased. "To what do I owe the honor?" Without waiting for an answer, Natalie stepped into the loft and moved past Nick, heading for the living area. He turned to follow her, then stopped, staring at the laptop computer she carried in one hand. "Nat?" he asked in what he hoped was a casual tone. "Uh ... what's the computer for?" "Hmm?" From her seat on the couch, Natalie paused in the process of setting up the laptop and glanced over her shoulder. "Oh. I'm running behind finishing up some case files. I thought I'd bring this along and try to get a little work done while I'm here. I hope you don't mind." She looked at him questioningly. Not trusting himself to speak, Nick settled for a simple shake of the head. Satisfied, she smiled that brilliant smile again and settled down to work. "Oh, Nick! I almost forgot," she said, pausing again to glance his way. "Earlier in the day when you were sleeping, I dropped off a new protein shake I want you to try. It's in the fridge." Protein shake. He'd been drinking a protein shake in that dream, hadn't he? Ignoring a growing sense of uneasiness, Nick moved toward the refrigerator. If she wanted him to choke down one last protein shake, it was the least he could do for her. It would be his parting gift. He might even ask her for the recipe to take with him, a sign to her that he wasn't giving up on his quest. Odd, though, that he hadn't noticed a protein shake when he'd gone for the cow's blood. Then again, he'd been a little preoccupied. Opening up the refrigerator door, he glanced inside. Sure enough, there on the bottom shelf sat a pitcher that hadn't been there when he'd gone upstairs to bed. He hesitated again as he reached for a glass, then chided himself for being foolish. It had been a dream, that was all. Not some kind of precognitive experience or omen of an ill-fated future. Pouring the shake and lifting the glass to his lips, he took a cautious sip, manfully fighting back the urge to spew it across the floor. This had to be one of her worst concoctions yet. But he wouldn't let on. He would drink the vile-tasting brew if it killed him. And it very well might. Trying to delay the inevitable, Nick began pacing around the loft. He couldn't seem to stand still. He knew he had to break the news to her, but he still hadn't figured out the best way to do it. In truth, he supposed, there was no "best way." "Nat?" Her eyes never left the computer screen. "Hmm?" He resolutely ignored a strong feeling of deja vu. "It's time." Raising her head, she stared at him blankly. "I'm sorry, I think I missed part of this conversation. Time for what?" Nick froze, his mouth open, his brain shutting down. He moved his lips, but nothing came out. His dream ... those words ... How could this be? He stood, frozen, staring at her. Natalie's eyes filled with concern. "Nick? What is it?" He tried again, and again he couldn't say the words. "Nick!" Alarmed, she quickly moved to his side. "Nick, tell me what's wrong. Is it the protein shake? It is, isn't it? Damn! I *knew* I shouldn't have added that extra garlic powder! But you've tolerated it so well in the past --" At last, he found his voice. "Nat, it's okay. There's nothing wrong with the shake. Well, nothing more than usual, " he added. But he remembered his resolve not to insult her efforts and hurried on. "I just ... I started thinking about something else and lost track of the conversation, that's all." He looked at her contritely. "I'm sorry. Where were we?" The tension visibly faded from her body, and her lips curved upward in a teasing smile. "Thinking about something else, eh? Imagine that." She tilted her head to one side. "As for where we left off ... you were saying something about it being 'time.' Time for what, Nick?" Taking a deep breath, he stared intently into her eyes. Those large, luminous, captivating eyes. "Time to go change your light bulb," he said. She blinked. "What? Wait a minute. How did you know about my light bulb? You mean the one on the balcony? The one I can't reach? How did you know about that?" Nick grinned at her, gently turning her toward the elevator as he reached out to deposit the protein shake and snag his car keys from the bar. "You told me about it, remember? Last week, some time. I promised I'd help you change it, but I haven't had a chance. Now's a good time, don't you think?" Natalie turned her head, staring at him over her shoulder, a perplexed frown on her face. "I don't remember telling you about that. I *meant* to tell you, but I kept forgetting." "Well, obviously you must have said something," Nick replied reasonably. "How else would I know?" Even as he smiled down at her, Nick berated himself for not standing firm. He had let a few bizarre coincidences dissuade him from a course of action he knew he had to take. He couldn't let it happen again, no matter how many silly dreams he might have. On the other hand, he could probably get by in Toronto for one more year. He didn't look *that* young for his supposed age. But next time would be a different story. Next year, he would definitely tell her. Just wait and see if he wouldn't. ========== 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)