This story is based on characters and situations in the "Forever
Knight" television series. I'm merely borrowing them for a short time
with the very best of intentions.

Permission is granted to archive this story at Mel Moser's FK fanfic
site and the FK ftp site. If anyone else would like it, by all means
ask.


Well, I sat down to write a Christmas story and wound up with this
instead. It has absolutely no connection to the story I intended to
write, and I have *no* idea where it came from. But as soon as I find
out, I promise to send it back.

In the meantime ...

==============================
The World According to Nick
by Cindy Ingram
c.1998
==============================

"Nooo!"

With a deep-throated roar, Nick shot bolt upright in bed. Glancing
wildly about the room, dazed and disoriented, he pressed his hand
flat against his chest and rubbed. The searing pain he'd felt there
-- thought he'd felt there -- had vanished before he was truly awake.

A dream. Another dream. Or a nightmare, he corrected himself -- this
one, far worse than the others. The haunting image of Natalie,
sprawled lifeless on the floor, the excruciating pain of the stake
plunging through his back...

It hadn't been real. None of it had been real. Nick bowed his head in
relief, exhausted beyond measure. With several deep breaths, he tried
to calm himself and steady his trembling hands. Nothing had ever
affected him quite the way these dreams had, a new one invading his
sleep almost every night. But none had been as terrible as this one.

The sound of running footsteps reached him. He looked up in time to
see Natalie come barreling through the open doorway.

"Nick?!" She stopped short at the sight of him and glanced warily
around the room. "What is it?" she asked, alarm giving way to puzzled
curiosity. "What's wrong?"

Nick took another calming breath, then stretched out his arm to her,
hand open and palm upward in silent entreaty. She hurried over,
grasping the proffered hand, and allowed him to pull her down beside
him.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong," he assured her, then winced inwardly as
the tension in his voice betrayed him.

Her silence told him she knew better. But instead of calling him on
it, she reached up to smooth his tousled hair. "It was another one of
those dreams, wasn't it?"

He glanced down, then back up at her. "Yes," he said, barely nodding.
"Only this one ... this one was bad."

"Worse than the one about Schanke and the plane exploding?"

He nodded without speaking.

"Or the one where you rammed a flaming stake through LaCroix's
heart?"

He nodded again. "Much worse."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

The image of the phantom Natalie's face, pale and lifeless, rose
before him.

"No!" he answered tersely, then lifted his hand to caress her cheek.
"No," he repeated, more softly this time. "Maybe later."

After staring at him for what seemed an eternity, she shrugged.
"Okay," she said, smiling faintly. "Later." She leaned in to give him
a quick kiss on the lips, but he caught her mouth and held it with
his, pulling her to him in a fierce embrace. When he at last let her
up for air, she gazed at him in bemused silence.

"Funny," she finally said, "I always thought nightmares were a bad
thing. But if this is the way they affect you, I have no choice but
to revise my opinion."

He started to draw her toward him again, but she slid out of his arms
and rose to her feet, pulling him up with her.

"As much as I'd love to take advantage of the situation, you have to
be at work in less than an hour. I'm afraid I lost track of the time.
Sorry."

Looking down at her, Nick smiled his forgiveness. "That's okay. Just
don't let it happen again, or I might have to trade you in for an
alarm clock." He managed to smother her outraged protest with another
kiss and found, much to his relief, that the oppressive aura of
despair brought on by the dream was becoming less pronounced by the
minute. Soon, it would be nothing more than a vague memory, like all
the others that had come before it. A disturbing glimpse into an
imagined life, one filled with pain, self-loathing and bitter
recriminations. An alternate existence in which he had lost far too
many of those nearest and dearest to his heart.

It was a dream world so similar and yet so different from his waking
reality. Whatever could have possessed his subconscious to create
such an outlandish corruption of his real life?

Imagine, wanting to be mortal again. How perfectly ridiculous. And
vampires that could never go out in the sunlight? Ludicrous.
Centuries of depraved killing? Only the most irresponsible of
fledglings ever harmed their prey.

"Nick?"

Hearing his name, he set aside his troubled reflections and looked at
Natalie questioningly.

"Less than an hour, remember? And you still haven't fed. Come on,"
she said, already moving toward the door. "Let's go downstairs and
I'll fix you breakfast."

Obediently, he followed Natalie out the room and down the stairs to
the main floor of the loft. But halfway to the kitchen, she stopped
suddenly and turned around.

"Oh ... I almost forgot. LaCroix called a little while ago. He has
some kind of problem and he wanted to ask your advice on how to
handle it. He wouldn't say what, but I get the feeling that, whatever
it is, he's in over his head. Something to do with an investment gone
bad, I think. You know how he is when it comes to those
get-rich-quick schemes. He just can't say no."

"Nat! Why didn't you wake me?"

"I was going to, but when I told him you were still asleep, he
wouldn't hear of it. He didn't want to disturb you. He said he'd call
back later, after you finish your shift."

Nick nodded, realizing it wouldn't do any good to worry about it
until he had more information. Besides, bailing out his sire was
second nature to him by now. He'd developed an almost fatalistic
attitude in that respect.

"He *did* tell me that they'll be here in time for Christmas Eve
mass," Natalie added.

"What?" Nick was incredulous.

"Mmm-hmm. Believe it or not, he's actually agreed to go with us this
year." She grinned at his open-mouthed amazement.

"Nat, that's incredible! And wonderful! You're amazing."

"Well, don't give me too much credit. I suspect it's more your
sister's doing than anything I've said. Fleur's been working on him
since last year. And," she added with a sigh, "I still haven't talked
him into staying with us more than a day or two. He's afraid they'll
wear out their welcome."

Nick smiled. "One miracle at a time, I guess. We'll try for another
next year."

Natalie smiled back in silent agreement, but her amusement faded as
Nick frowned and abruptly looked away. "What is it?"

He shook his head. "I'm all right. Just remembering the dream again.
It's crazy, but ... I can't seem to shake it ... "

Natalie started to say something but stopped. After studying his face
a moment, she turned and resumed her course to the kitchen. Opening
the pantry door, she reached inside, shoved several items out of the
way, and pulled forth a dark green bottle.

"I was planning to save this for Christmas, but under the
circumstances, I think now might be a better time." Holding the
bottle carefully, she crossed back to Nick.

"It's your favorite -- an artist," she informed him, her smile
widening as he took it from her outstretched hands. "One quite famous
for his abstracts. One that a certain Toronto homicide detective has
long admired."

Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Nat, you didn't --"

"I did," she confirmed, delighted at his obvious surprise.

"But how?"

Natalie dismissed the question with a teasing look and an airy wave
of the hand. "I have my sources," she loftily informed him.

He frowned. "Nat, you didn't ... " he said uneasily, this time in an
altogether different tone.

She stared at him blankly, but as the implication sank in, her mouth
opened in shocked indignation. "Eeeuw! I can't believe you said
that!" she protested, swatting him on the arm in mock anger. "I am
*not* in the habit of stealing blood from my patients to smuggle home
to my husband, thank you very much! No matter *what* the occasion."
She fixed him with a stern glare. "I *meant* I have my vampire
sources. And it was strictly voluntary, of course, like always.
Although this one *was* a solicited donation. But I think we can
safely assume that Janette made it worth his while," she added with a
meaningful gleam in her eye.

"Janette? She's here?"

"Not yet. She won't be here until next week, but she sent it on
ahead. I had asked her a while back to help me find the perfect
Christmas present for you. I knew what I wanted to get you, but I
wasn't sure she could actually come through. Silly me." Natalie
rolled her eyes and shook her head, then raised her face expectantly.
"Aren't you going to thank me?"

Nick looked down at the bottle in his hand, then back up at his wife.
"Thank you," he whispered gravely, leaning down to bestow a soft kiss
of appreciation.

"You're welcome," she whispered back, her lips barely an inch from
his. Then ... "Nick?"

"What?" he murmured, close to losing himself in the heady scent of
her blood and the enticing sheen of her moist lips.

"Aren't you going to try it?"

With great effort, he forced his mind to focus on her question. "Ah
... no. I think I'll save it for later, when I get home." He waggled
his eyebrows suggestively. "After all, we've got to find some way to
occupy ourselves while the kids are away at your brother's house."

They grinned at each other like two besotted teen-agers. But after
another bout of heavy kissing and petting, one that showed signs of
getting seriously out-of-hand, Natalie tore her mouth away, gasping
for air.

"Oh, that reminds me." Breathing heavily, she fended off another
kiss, refusing to let herself be distracted again, much to Nick's
chagrin. "When Janette gets here, I've arranged to work a night shift
that first evening." In response to his raised eyebrow, she shrugged.
"I figured you might want a chance to ... 'catch up' ... seeing as
how it's been a while."

Nick smiled tenderly at her, marveling anew at the incredible good
fortune that had led him to such an incredible woman. But the memory
of the dream Natalie came back to him, and he quickly sobered.

"Nat, you don't have to do that, if you'd rather not," he said
earnestly. "I mean, I don't ever want to do anything that would make
you doubt the way I feel about you."

"Oh, Nick, please!" she snorted. "I understand completely, you know
that. I'm the one you want to spend eternity with, and we'll take
care of that part as soon as the kids are a little older. But I don't
expect you to ignore the feelings you have for Janette, or your
history together ... just as long as you don't make a habit of
acknowledging them too often. And just as long as you love me more."
The playful glare that accompanied her words dissolved into a warm
smile as she slipped her arms around his neck.

"It *is* possible to love more than one person at a time, Nick," she
whispered, then paused to tilt her head consideringly. "Except in my
case, of course. *You* are the only one I'll *ever* love." And with
that, she guided his face down to meet hers in a fierce kiss that
stole his breath away, driving all thoughts of other women, vampire
or mortal, completely out of his head.

This time, Nick was the one who eventually put a halt to the
proceedings -- at least, temporarily.

"Nat?" he mumbled, hungrily nuzzling her neck.

"Hmm?"

"I think I'm catching a cold."

She pulled away slightly, enough to allow her a glimpse of his face.
"What?"

"Yeah," he assured her solemnly. "I can feel it coming on now. I
don't see how I can possibly go to work today."

Natalie's expression was equally serious, though she couldn't hide
the gleam in her eye. "Well," she sighed, "I guess I'll just have to
call in and tell them you'll be spending the day in bed. Doctors
orders, of course."

"Of course," he agreed. "But I'll take care of it. In the meantime,
why don't you go call your office and let them know that I'm too sick
to be left alone?"

Natalie bit her lip. "I don't know, Nick. I've got a pretty heavy
caseload waiting for me. Let me think." Crossing her arms, she
frowned in concentration. A fraction of a second later, her brow
cleared and she gave him a brilliant smile.

"Okay."

Returning the grin, Nick moved toward the table behind the sofa,
where he'd left his phone the night before. He punched in the number
and waited for the familiar voice on the other end.

"Schanke," his partner answered.

"Schank, it's me."

"Hey, compadre! We're not on the clock for another thirty minutes.
What's up?"

"Listen, Schank ... I called to let you know I can't make it in
today."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other end, 
then ...

"Oooh, no, you don't! No, no, no, no, no! You can't do this to me,
Nick. I'm up to my wazoo in paperwork, and at least half of it's
yours. In fact, I'm here at the precinct already. I came in early
just to get a head start. You are *not* bailing out on me, buddy.
Comprende?"

"I'm sorry, Schank, but I'm really not feeling so great." Nick faked
a pathetic cough.

"Yeah, right," Schanke snorted. "Try that on somebody else, why
doncha? Mighta worked on me a year ago, but I *know* better now.
There's not a germ alive that would dare go after big, bad and
vampiric."

"Schanke --"

"I mean it, Nick. Get your keister in here, or I'll come over there
and haul you in myself!"

Nick sighed as he glanced longingly toward the second-floor bedroom.
Natalie had disappeared inside just moments before and was no doubt
already calling her office. So much for their big plans.

"Okay, Schank," he sighed. "Just let me tell Nat she doesn't have to
book off after all, and I'll head on in."

"Wait a minute!" Nick could almost see Schanke's double-take. "That's
why you were calling in? You wanted to play hooky with Nat?"

"Something like that."

"Well, for cryin' out loud, Nick, why didn't you just say so? You and
Nat deserve some quality time together. It's not *that* much paper
work. I can handle it. In fact, I think I'll draft that Vetter kid to
help. She *lives* for this kinda stuff -- got a real flair when it
comes to filling out reports. When she's not mooning over that biker
boyfriend of hers, that is," Schanke added.

"Are you sure?" Nick asked as he glanced again toward the second
floor, his eyes starting to twinkle with renewed anticipation.

"Sure, I'm sure. Don't worry about it. You two kids just enjoy
yourself, and I'll let the captains know."

Nick started to thank him, then stopped. "Wait a minute. Captains?"

"Yeah, I was gonna tell you about that when you got here. Considering
the stress and high-burnout rate on the job, the department's decided
to experiment with a new system, and we're the lucky guinea pigs.
From now on, we're gonna have three captains on each shift." Schanke
lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "If you ask me,
though, I think it's got more to do with the brass getting a little
too promotion happy the last go-around. But you didn't hear that from
me, okay?"

Nick frowned. "So who are the captains?"

"Well, we're keeping Stonetree, of course. And they're bringing over
two others -- Amanda Cohen and Joe Reese. Never met 'em, but I've
heard good things about both of them. Could be worse."

Nick was momentarily startled that the two captains who had played
such prominent roles in his dreams would now make their presence
known in his real life. But since, unlike Schanke, he had met them
both before, he supposed it wasn't too surprising they'd been
targeted by his subconscious. He sighed, mentally cursing the
department's timing. "Maybe I'd better come in after all," he said.
"I wouldn't want to make a bad impression by not showing up their
first day on the job."

"Nah! I woudn't worry about it. They'll understand, once I explain it
to them." Nick could hear the teasing grin in Schanke's voice. "I
mean, we can't have you coming to work all distracted, now can we?
You might miss an important clue or something."

As it turned out, Nick didn't need much convincing.

"Well, if you're really sure ... "

"No problemo, buddy. Just don't forget to return the favor when it's
my turn, okay? Now, give Nat my love, and you two forget about this
place and just have a good time. Oh ... and Nick?"

"Yeah, Schank?" His mind, more concerned now with what awaited him in
the bedroom than anything else, only halfway registered the wicked
teasing note in his partner's voice.

"Don't take too much."

Already on the move, Nick responded to the old joke with a
good-natured chuckle.

"Not a chance, Schanke. Not a chance."

Then he cut the connection, and bounded up the stairs.

====================
Finis

And Happy Holidays!

(Cindy Ingram) Comments eagerly welcomed at cgi271@airmail.net
==============================================================
My FK fiction page:
http://www.pioneerplanet.infi.net/~nancykam/newfic.html
==============================================================
What's another word for thesaurus?
("Say good Knight, Gracie." -- G. Burns)