Date: Fri, 8 Sep 1995 20:18:00 CDT From: Jill Kirby This has been knocking around in my head for a while. Initially, it was inspired by the introduction of an unsuitable (IMHO) third- season love interest for Duncan; then second-season episodes of FK gave me - gave Natalie, actually - the motivation I/she needed. In the "Forever Knight" timeline, this falls just after the end of season two; in the "Highlander" timeline, it's shortly after the third season episode "Mortal Sins." Only minor (hopefully) liberties have been taken with the canon of either series. Any action and language is strictly PG-13. This story wouldn't be possible (or interesting, or coherent) without the tremendous assistance of my beta-readers. Lillian Feden should be canonized for putting up with all the stuff I make her read; her opinions and comments are invaluable. Diane Echelbarger, Deb Martin (aka Pinky), and Corinne Peterman provided great insight and reality checks. Thanks to all of them for their patience, with both the length of the story and the insecurities of the author. Additional thanks to Dianne DeSha for graciously allowing me to reference the witch legends she's so skillfully woven into the FK universe. Last, but not least: there is a very mild third-season spoiler at the end. It isn't even a completely accurate one, since I wrote the last bit before CCC and didn't know all the details - but the way I've written it just seemed to fit better, so I left it. This is my first long story, so I'd really like to hear people's thoughts on it. If you're missing a part, please let me know. Constructive criticism, praise, Diet Coke or flames to jtkirby@mcs.com. Honor the Heart A Forever Knight/Highlander Story by Jill Kirby The coffee tasted so good that Natalie wondered why she didn't just order an entire pot. And stick her head in it, she thought with a grimace. She was tired, and hung over, and angry with herself for getting drunk last night. It had been childish of her not to talk to Nick - to not even let him into her apartment. She had acted on instinct: get home, cuddle Sidney, cry, and drink. Except for the drinking part, she wouldn't change a thing. Well, she wouldn't have gone over to Nick's in the first place. she would change. It was a gorgeous Toronto morning, and Natalie had forced herself to get out of bed and walk - painfully - to a nearby sidewalk cafe to force coffee and food into her stomach. Her red eyes firmly covered with sunglasses, she glanced at the muffin in front of her and decided on more coffee. A continuation of her liquid diet, she thought wryly. Even the state of her brain didn't stop her from noticing the man who was taking the table in front of her. A bearded, slightly older man, he walked with a limp and relied on a cane for balance. He sat down, profile to Natalie, unaware of her scrutiny. Nat's doctor's mind idly wondered what had caused the man's injury as she watched him. His posture was erect, alert; Natalie could tell he was looking for something. Or someone. A man was suddenly at the table, glaring down at the older man. Natalie's spirits rose. This one was gorgeous. Medium height, powerful build, he had a strong face and a chin to reckon with. His hair was dark, and slicked back into a ponytail. Nat's left eyebrow raised. Hmm. This man was someone worth noticing, even if he was dressed in somber clothing and wearing a shapeless trenchcoat. He sat at the table, and the two of them started a quiet, intense conversation. If the younger man's eyes could have sliced into the older man, they would have, decided Natalie. She was glad that anger wasn't directed at her. Besides, their intense conversation gave her a chance to check him out. She wasn't often guilty of staring at men, but this one was an exception. Suddenly, something was wrong. The older man was suddenly clutching at his torso; it was apparent that he was in pain. Mr. Trenchcoat leaned toward him, concern immediately replacing the angry look that had been there a moment before. Natalie was at their table in a moment, sunglasses off, her hangover pushed to the back of her consciousness. "I'm a doctor," she informed them as she bent over the older man, searching for his pulse. Her eyes met his, steady and calm. "Can you show me where the pain is?" The man couldn't speak, but waved one hand helplessly towards his chest. "Angina?" queried Natalie. The man nodded rapidly, then clutched at his chest again. Natalie took a chance and reached into his inside jacket pocket, found a small pillbox, and hurriedly gave him a tiny nitroglycerin pill. She sank back on her heels next to his chair, fingers on his wrist, and waited as the man started to breathe more easily. Mr. Trenchcoat waved away the group of concerned staff and patrons that had gathered around. "Everything's fine here, thanks." Disappointed that there hadn't been more of a scene, and that no one was writhing on the floor, the group dispersed. Natalie, though focused on the older man's pulse and respirations, couldn't help but noticing that Trenchcoat had a soft accent that sent a shiver up her spine. She smiled reassuringly at the older man, whose color and breathing were returning to normal. "I'm Natalie Lambert. I'm glad you keep your nitro where it's easy to find." "Dawson." His voice was still breathy, rough. "Joe Dawson. That attack came on faster than usual - thank you for coming to my rescue." "I do a lot of rescuing. No thanks necessary." Natalie rose - and winced as her hangover returned. "Are you all right?" Trenchcoat Man had stood with her. "Fine, thanks. Paying for my sins." Natalie shrugged. Gently. "I'm glad you were nearby - I'm a lousy doctor." The man held out his hand. "I'm Duncan MacLeod." "Natalie Lambert." They shook hands, the handshake lasting a bit longer than was really necessary. Natalie tore her eyes away from his and turned back to Joe Dawson. "You should see your doctor as soon as you can. Any change in the pattern of your angina is something she should know about." She assessed his color. "How do you feel?" "As normal as I ever feel." Dawson rose, stiffly, hanging onto his cane for support. "I think I'll go back to my room and lie down for a while. I should probably call my doctor, too. Thank you again." He shot a look at MacLeod. "Apparently we were done here, anyway." Natalie wondered how they could be finished - given how intensely they had been talking - and the look on MacLeod's face confirmed it. MacLeod didn't to talk any more; Dawson did. Natalie sensed a situation she didn't belong in the middle of. "It's probably good for you to rest for a while." She turned and rummaged in her purse, pulling out a card. "If you have any more pain, you should either get to an ER or you can give me a call at this number." "At the Coroner's office?" Dawson's eyebrows raised and he looked at her. "I'm glad I didn't have to end up making an office visit." "I am, too." She glanced back at MacLeod. "It was good to meet you." "You, too." As she made her way back to her table, Natalie overheard Dawson say something to MacLeod - she couldn't quite catch it - to which MacLeod responded roughly "It's done. I don't want to talk about it any more." Thankfully, as Natalie reached her table the waiter brought over more coffee, which she grabbed gratefully as she sank into her chair. The hangover had returned, although it wasn't quite as ferocious. Thank goodness, I'm going to live, she thought, slipping her sunglasses back on. The muffin looked good to her finally, and she broke off a chunk and popped it in her mouth. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did." MacLeod was standing by her table. Natalie looked up at him, mouth full of blueberry muffin. did she have food in her mouth for half the critical moments in her life? And how the hell did this man move so quickly? Natalie caught herself staring at MacLeod - again - and swallowed. Hard. "Like I said, it was no trouble." She gestured towards the chair opposite. "Would you care to join me?" "Thank you. I would." He sat, slipping his trenchcoat off of his shoulders, and ordered coffee from the waiter. "You mentioned something back there," he asked Natalie, looking at her intently. "You said you were paying for your sins?" A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. Natalie put her head in her hands. "Ow. Thanks for reminding me yet again." She looked up at him ruefully. "I had a little too much wine last night. It isn't something I do often." "What don't you do too often - have too much wine, or let your guard down?" Natalie cocked her head, surprised. This man was far too perceptive. "Both, I guess. What about you?" "I'd have to say I don't let my guard down too often, either." He took a swallow of the coffee that had been set in front of him. They were quiet for a moment, in a companionable way. Natalie just enjoyed the feel of the sunshine on her face - although it might still have been a too bright - and stole glances at MacLeod every so often. He seemed completely at ease, looking around the cafe, enjoying the morning. How nice it was to sit outside in the with an attractive man. When was the last time... Stop that train, girl, she thought firmly to herself. Self-pity gave you a hangover the size of Vancouver. Natalie turned her mind back to her companion. "So, Mr. MacLeod, what brings you to Toronto? Are you a native, or a visitor?" "Please, call me Duncan. I'm here on business." "What do you do?" "A little of this, a little of that." MacLeod saw the look that came involuntarily to Natalie's face. "No, really, I do work." Natalie laughed, and felt the hangover lift a little more. "I'm sorry, was it so obvious?" "Just a bit." MacLeod chuckled. "I'm an antiques dealer, primarily, but I also own a dojo out west." Natalie had no idea what a dojo was; her innate inquisitiveness led into a long conversation about martial arts, traveling, and anything and everything else. Natalie hadn't enjoyed a conversation this much in years. Duncan's smile probably had something to do with that. He had a natural way that made her feel comfortable being with him. He was, she decided, a man at home in his own skin; he had his problems and concerns, she was sure, but he had found places for them inside himself and didn't wear them on the surface. Unlike some men she knew - but she couldn't stand to think of Nick right now. Amazingly, while she was talking to Duncan, she think about him. Natalie suddenly looked at her watch. "Oh, lord. I need to go." "Work?" asked MacLeod. "Technically, I'm working nights all week, but I was away for a three- day weekend and I'm afraid to see what my desk looks like. I need to get in there to see if I've been mail-bombed." She put some money on the table despite Duncan's protests and rose. "No, really. I deserve to pay for this coffee." Duncan had risen too. "Natalie..." he paused, seeming unsure - which Nat guessed didn't happen often. "Do you have dinner plans tonight? Or do they let you take a break when you work nights?" He grinned. "That is, if you'd like to have dinner with me." A slow smile crossed Natalie's face. You don't know the half of it, mister, she thought. "I don't often take dinner, but I suppose I could make an exception." Grace greeted her with delight when Natalie came into work that night. "Natalie! Welcome back!" Nat steeled herself for the inevitable questions as she slipped out of her raincoat. "Why did you come in today? Why are you early for tonight? And is that a new dress?" Obligingly Natalie stepped back and modeled the dress, which represented half her clothing budget for the next year. But she had taken one look at the deep purple of the dress - the saleslady had called it "aubergine" - and thrown her budget to the wind. "Only the finest in Paris fashions for the Coroner's office. And I came in today to try and clear off my desk." "I know - you moved all the paper to mine. You look " said Grace, stroking the fabric of the dress with a wistful sigh. "What's the occasion?" Natalie hadn't intended to tell Grace, but she couldn't resist. "A date." She grinned like a Cheshire cat as she slipped on her whites over the dress. "A dinner date." "A date!" Grace followed her into the examining room, where one of the attendants was putting a bagged body out on the table. "One line, no waiting," said Grace ruefully. "It's been a zoo around here. And it's been weird, too. I'm glad you're back." "Weird?" asked Natalie absently, assessing her desk: it was a foot deep with paperwork already, and she had just cleared it off. Should she dig into that, or start working on her next "patient"? "Mmm hmm. Your friend on the table here," Grace rolled her eyes towards the body bag - "is the second John Doe in five days to die from the same cause." Now, why was that so unusual? "Homicide? Whose case?" "Nick and Schanke's. And it's most definitely homicide." Nat finally focused her attention on Grace. "And what's unusual about that? Another gang shooting?" "De-cap-i-ta-tion." Grace drew out the word, enjoying it. "Chop, chop." Sometimes Grace sounded like a Stephen King novel - when she wasn't sounding like one by Johanna Lindsay. This was definitely a night to avoid the desk and move straight to the table. "Beheaded?" "Second one. John did one on Friday night - a younger guy." She caught Natalie's look. "Don't worry. Already got you copies of his notes and report." The sound of the telephone ringing outside caught Grace's attention. "I'd better leave you to your fun and games. And don't think you're going to get off without giving me some juicy details about this date you have!" Laughing, Natalie snapped on rubber gloves as Grace left. Time to get to work, and time to put Nick, and Duncan MacLeod and his smile, out of her thoughts. For a while, anyway. Three hours later, as she pulled the sheet back over the body on the table, Duncan and Nick were the farthest things from her mind. The body had been decapitated, all right - neck chopped clean off. Based on her preliminary, plus John's notes, it looked like the same type of weapon - a sword, probably - that had been used on Friday's body. She'd need to look at the neck of the Friday victim. Not to mention his internal organs... Nat leaned back against the cooler, eyes closed, rubbing her temples. Sometimes when a case was especially interesting or unusual, she'd shut out all the external stimuli and focus in on the details. She was miles away (specifically, in the victim's unbelievably perfect liver) when she opened her eyes and saw Nick standing in front of her. She hadn't thought she'd see him so soon, and she wasn't really ready. Nat stalked over to her desk, ignoring him. "Hello, Natalie." Natalie pretended to be looking at her desk. Nick was wearing the blue shirt she had given him for Christmas last year - he must be in full apology mode. "I'm pretty busy. What can I do for you? Are you here about this John Doe on the table?" "No." He sounded colossally uncomfortable. Good, thought Nat with an almost savage glee. He wasn't going to get off so easy time. "I wanted to talk to you. About last night - about Janette." "I don't think now is the time to discuss it," said Natalie pointedly, nodding her head towards the door. Nick couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice. "Natalie, we to talk. I've been trying to call you all day. You don't understand..." "I understand perfectly. I'm not an idiot, Nick, despite the fact that I'm a mere mortal." "I think you're an idiot, Natalie." "Apparently, you do." She turned to face him, hands on her hips. "I know what I saw, and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out." "Nat..." "No." She held up one hand, and the look in her eyes was so weary, so sad, that Nick knew her heart had broken into a thousand pieces - and his was about to do the same. "Don't." A small, painful smile broke through. "I know what you think of me already, Nick. You've never even done me the courtesy of discussing what happened on Valentine's Day." At his startled exclamation, she shook her head. "Now isn't the time for that, either. But I can put two and two together, and it's pretty clear." "Nat!" He was around the desk before she could blink, hands on her shoulders. She wouldn't look at him. "Natalie, I love you. You to believe that. I make mistakes, I know... and last night was one of them." "And I'm supposed to think that was an isolated incident? Now you really think I'm a fool." Gently, she shrugged him off and backed away. "I know that in your own way you do love me. But it's not enough." Nick watched her steadily, knowing she wasn't done. "Nick, I can forgive you for a lot of things - I forgiven you for a lot of things." Damn it, she was going to cry. "That whole scene on Valentine's Day - you to believe I had forgotten, and I let you believe it. Even though I remembered, I didn't say anything. That's as much my fault as yours." "I'm sorry. I did it for your own good, I thought." He had look on his face, that wounded look that made Natalie want to hold him and stroke his hair and tell him that the world was not such a bad place after all. She hardened her heart against him. This time, she wasn't going to forgive so easily. She had the uncomfortable feeling that she'd been letting him chip away at her life, bit by bit, until she wasn't sure what her life was supposed to look like any more. "I'm a grown woman, and can decide what's good for me and what isn't. And you treating me like an idiot child is most definitely in my best interests." Natalie knew that she was perilously close to completely losing it. "Nick, I just can't be with you - ever - if you're going to keep lying to me. It isn't like we've had an easy relationship." Bitterness edged into her voice. "It's pretty apparent that you'd rather be with Janette, anyway. I can't fight 800 years, Nick, and I'm not going to try." "Nat... What you saw..." "No, Nick." She wasn't going to let him try to explain away what she had walked in on. She had gotten drunk to try and blot out the memory of Janette and Nick, together. "I love you..." her voice broke as she said the words, "and I'll never stop trying to find a cure for you - even if I'm not sure that you truly want it. You just can't have it both ways, Nick." He needed to see that for himself - had to make that choice. "I have to live my life honestly, and I can't do that with you any more. I need to find out who I am again, without hiding or deception or dishonesty. And you need to decide what it is you want - because I don't think it's mortality - and I don't think it's me." Nick was silent. She had never seen him so pale, with such burning, intense eyes. Natalie fought against the tears and the nausea that were just below the surface. She had needed to say this, but that didn't make it any easier. They were both startled by the swinging door, and by Grace's inquiring face around a half-open door. "Natalie, a Mr. MacLeod is here to see you." Natalie glanced at her watch. Damn and blast - she had forgotten about dinner. "Thanks. Could you send him in, Grace?" She pressed the backs of her hands against her cheeks, trying to compose herself. Great - red eyes again, although at least she wasn't actively sobbing. Duncan came in, coat over his arm, impeccably dressed in a soft grey silk shirt and black pants. He knew immediately that something had been going on between Natalie and the man she was talking with. Natalie's brilliant eyes were certainly due to tears; the man was paler than death and looked like he had just lost his closest friend "I'm sorry. I'm interrupting." Beautiful timing, Duncan, he thought. If Natalie hadn't been so upset, she'd have laughed out loud - her love life was non-existent for decades, and now all of a sudden there were ? Of course, one was a total stranger, and one was an 800-year- old, two-timing vampire. "No. Come in, Duncan. I was just finishing up in here." Duncan came in and smiled somewhat uncertainly at Nick, extending his hand. "Duncan MacLeod." "Nick Knight." The two men shook hands, sizing each other up. Natalie knew that was a situation she had to get herself out of - immediately. She slid out of her whites, grabbed her raincoat from the chair and moved to Duncan's side. "Ready?" She smiled up at Duncan, and the smile was nearly genuine. The anger and pain she felt about Nick were still there, but somehow Duncan's presence moved the negatives to the back of her mind. "We're off, Nick. Anything else I can do for you?" Nick looked completely dumbfounded. Nick slammed his desk drawer shut with vampire strength, wincing as the drawer went off the track and crunched against the desk's metal backing. Damn. He had to stop thinking about Natalie, about the lost look in her eyes as she had told him they couldn't be together. He had destroyed something inside her, and he wasn't sure if she could forgive him any more. Nick knew that he'd be having nightmares about last night for a long, long time - the color draining out of Natalie's face as she walked in, a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand, to see him and Janette on his couch. Very little clothing, plenty of blood, fangs in full view - it was brutally apparent what was going on. Natalie had lifted her head high, apologized for interrupting, and got out of there so quickly that he hadn't caught up with her until she was halfway back to her apartment. Even then, she wouldn't talk to him. She had shut her door in his face. Although Nick had been tempted to break down her door, he knew it would have been yet another insult, another reminder, another invasion. "...You need to decide what it is you want - because I don't think it's mortality - and I don't think it's me." He shook his head, willing the thoughts away. He'd have to think of some way to make it up to Nat. But not now. He had a case load a mile high and paperwork that needed to be done. Maybe the paperwork would get the image of Natalie's face out of his mind. The sight of her in that dress, going out to dinner with another man... With the fierce rush of jealousy, Nick felt the vampire in him rise. He pushed it down, hard. Now wasn't the time. Now, it was time to work. Top of his list was the report on the second headless John Doe that they had found yesterday. He was fairly sure who was responsible for these beheadings. Unfortunately, if he went in to Cohen and started talking about Immortals, he'd be whisked off to some padded room and taken off the force. With no evidence directly linking the beheadings to anyone, Nick knew that these murders would probably remain unsolved. Immortals had been playing at their Game long enough that there were rarely fingerprints, or weapons, or witnesses. About all they left behind were the headless bodies. Bodies were a grim common feature of vampires and Immortals. Unlike vampires and witches, Immortals and vampires rarely came into direct conflict - mainly because vampires and Immortals couldn't sense one another. Finding out was generally an accident - seeing something happen was the most common way to find out. Over the years vampires and Immortals had noticed they tended to turn up in similar places - wars, for instance - and occasionally one would notice the other doing something . A more unpleasant way for a vampire to find out was to actually drink blood from an Immortal. Their blood didn't a vampire, but it incapacitated one long enough that the Immortal could eliminate the vampire and still be home in time for breakfast. Nick wasn't particularly concerned about Immortals in Toronto, but he didn't want to see city turn into an Immortal battle ground. They could play their Game elsewhere. He drummed his fingers on the desk, trying to think who might be able to help him track down a local Immortal he could talk to. At least work would help keep his mind off Natalie. "Knight? Hellooo? Earth to Knight?" Schanke waved a fragrant bag in Nick's face as he went over to his desk. "You look like you've left the planet, partner." Nick winced at the garlic wafting through the air, and his eyes began to water as Schanke pulled out an enormous gyro from the bag and settled down to eat with a satisfied look on his face. "Schanke. How nice of you to bring in your dinner so we could smell it." "Want some?" Schanke offered the sandwich generously. "It'd do you good to have a gyro once in a while. Garlic is good for the soul." Nick stifled a laugh, and pulled down a folder from the pile in his "in" box. "I'm just finishing the report on that John Doe we found last night." "The headless wonder?" said Schanke, his words garbled as he chewed. "Did Nat find anything?" "I didn't ask her." "But you went over there -" "She was... busy. She had a date." "Date?" Schanke eyed Nick closely. Myra was right - there something more going on here. Ever since Valentine's Day, Knight had been acting really funny around Natalie. And now Nat was going on a date, and Nick looked upset about it. Nick was hardly listening. He couldn't ask Janette - she didn't care about mortals, Immortals, witches, or any other species except vampires. The only vampire who might be able to help him was the one vampire he generally avoided talking to. LaCroix. *** The music was loud and the lights were dim. Another night at the Raven, thought Janette as she leaned against the bar. It was an especially pedestrian crowd this evening. Half the young ones had gone out on some sort of excursion - one of them had called it a "field trip" - and the regulars seemed curiously subdued. Janette wondered if, at last, the time had come to leave this city. Ah - but that would mean leaving Nicola... something she could not do. Not now. Miklos refilled her glass and she nodded in thanks. He had taken her... reunion... with Nicola surprisingly well, considering. Miklos was not burdened with mortal guilt - he understood the concept of pleasure for pleasure's sake. And practiced the concept She felt him before she saw him. "LaCroix." " Janette. A quiet night, hmm?" She turned, sighing. "Yes." He was beautifully dressed, as always - the ubiquitous silver sword pin nestled in his cravat; a perfectly tailored jacket complimented his broad shoulders. Impulsively, she ran a hand down one arm. "Is this new?" LaCroix regarded the jacket with a satisfied smile. "Yes. The tailoring took a bit longer than expected." He motioned to Miklos. "Mortals - so slow sometimes. You need to them a bit." "I'm sure you did just that." Miklos brought over a glass of Janette's favorite vintage, and he and LaCroix talked for a few moments in a guttural Hungarian dialect. Janette turned away and surveyed the room, bored - Hungarian was one language she had never bothered to learn. Those Slavic languages - so Janette's face lit up as she saw Nicola enter the room and scan it - for her? LaCroix turned around at the same time, his gaze going from Janette to Nick and back again. Something in his expression grew smug. Nick kissed Janette on both cheeks and clasped her hands in his. "Janette." A less affectionate glance was directed at LaCroix. "LaCroix." "Nicola. I didn't think I'd see you so soon..." A look from Nick silenced her. Now was not the time to discuss the other night - not that Janette particularly wished to talk about it; she'd avoid that conversation for as long as she could. She looked at him closely - there was something about him. Something not quite right. "I actually came to talk to LaCroix," said Nick. "To ? Such an honor." LaCroix laughed lightly at Janette's pout. "What is it that you want, Nicholas?" " a loaded question," said Nick roughly. Natalie's face flashed into his mind, and he blocked it out with every bit of strength in him. "I'd like information. On Immortals in Toronto." "The beheadings." Janette shuddered and moved away from them. "This is a conversation I do wish to be involved in." Janette hated Immortals, though neither Nick nor LaCroix quite knew why. She stroked Nick's cheek, then disappeared into the surging mass of dancers. "How you explain to your mortal co-workers about Immortals?" asked LaCroix, taking a sip of blood. "I don't particularly want to explain about them - I'd just like to determine if this is an escalation of the Game. If it is, I want it of Toronto." "And you think you have the power to make that happen?" LaCroix laughed - and it was not a pleasant sound. "Nicholas, Immortals have been playing with swords for as long as we've been draining mortals of their blood. One vampire cop isn't going to stop them now." "I know. I had just hoped you knew someone I could talk to..." "Me? Know an Immortal?" LaCroix was the picture of innocence. He scanned Nick's face, and realized that his son had come to him to ask for help. And he could deny his son nothing. "Very well. Give me some time to make inquiries - they are not exactly listed in the telephone directory." Nick hadn't realized he was holding his breath until now, and he let out a long sigh. "Thank you." "You're welcome, Nicholas." LaCroix drank the rest of the blood thoughtfully as he watched Nicholas leave. Immortals and vampires had never mixed well, and it couldn't help that the vampire was a policeman. This could be interesting. His eyes strayed to Janette, who was leaning on the bar, her eyes fixed on the door that Nicholas had just exited through. She was worried; her lips were pressed together tightly and one hand was tapping rapidly on the countertop. Why would a visit from Nicholas cause her concern? Nick's car was still back at the station. Even if it hadn't been, Nick would have flown - he needed the release. The feeling of the wind and the freedom that came with soaring above the city helped him clear his mind. Without thinking, he chose a route that took him by the Coroner's Office. He didn't want to talk to Nat again - right now, he could only hurt her more - but he had to see her; make sure she was all right. Nick landed in the alley and started around the corner, stopping short. Natalie was just coming back from dinner - not only had Nat taken dinner, she had taken a dinner. She and MacLeod were holding hands, and both were laughing. Natalie looked impossibly beautiful. When was the last time she had looked like that with him? Not since Valentine's Day, certainly. Nick backed into the alley, watching and listening from the shadows. "...And why I don't like frogs," said Duncan, finishing whatever story it was that had reduced Natalie to helpless giggles. She had certainly recovered quickly from their earlier conversation, thought Nick bitterly. "I'll never be able to look at Kermit the same way again." Natalie wiped at her eyes, still smiling. She looked at the lighted Coroner's Office sign with a sigh that perhaps only Nick could hear. "Well, here's my stop," she said, turning to face him. "Thank you for dinner, Duncan." "It was my pleasure." Duncan reluctantly released her hand and they stood there, a little awkwardly. "How long are you in town?" Natalie couldn't believe she was asking him - it wasn't like her at all. But then, a of things she had done lately weren't like her at all. When she had thought the world was ending - and then seen Janette in Nick's arms - things had fallen into place. "That depends," answered Duncan. Nick felt something snap inside him as Natalie and Duncan kissed. Unable to bear it, he lifted himself into the wind and headed back to the station, the image burned into his mind. *** "...It's one o'clock in the morning, gentle listeners, and this is the Nightcrawler..." Natalie wasn't sure why she listened to CERK. When she had first started listening after Valentine's Day, it had helped her remember everything about night. Hearing LaCroix's voice had brought nearly all of it back, over time. Now, she listened out of some kind of morbid fascination. Doom and gloom background noise, perhaps? "Tonight, we're talking about loneliness. We look out at the rain and think of absent friends, and lost lovers." This was the first evening that she hadn't spent with Duncan in nearly two weeks. They'd been together night - when she was off - and day. It was moving awfully fast, and Nat knew that she needed a little time at home, alone, to collect herself and her thoughts. She needed to do laundry, too, prosaic as that was. "Do you think of those that have left you, through death or life, and wonder?" Folding laundry was always a good time to think, and Natalie had a lot to think about over her towels and T-shirts. She felt like she was caught in a whirlwind - a whirlwind named Duncan MacLeod. He was attractive, intelligent, charming, a good dancer - make that a dancer, far better than she'd ever be - intuitive, and best of all he made her laugh. Duncan had a penchant for silliness; one minute he'd be handing her a bouquet of roses and the next she'd be laughing helplessly as he twirled her around singing "Strangers in the Night." She was also incredibly attracted to him. Natalie had spent so much of her life working and studying that she'd had very few serious relationships; the most recent "serious" relationship had been with a vampire who couldn't make love to her without killing her. Natalie realized that she was starved for simple things like an arm around her waist - or for less simple things like being kissed into breathlessness at the end of the evening. worrying about someone being pushed past where they could control themselves - in a vampiric sense, of course. Maybe their relationship was moving so quickly because Duncan was from out of town; maybe because, in different ways, they were both so lonely. Whatever the reasons, Natalie had quickly grown to appreciate Duncan MacLeod as more than just a friend. "We've all lost people..." But every so often, she'd watch the sun shine on Duncan's dark hair, or he would touch her cheek, and she'd think of Nick, her throat catching. She wished with all her heart that she could Nick, and truly be with Duncan. Nick had lied to her. Not just about LaCroix, but about Janette. About a lot of things. Maybe she was expecting too much of an 800-year-old vampire, but loving someone meant honesty, trust, and faithfulness - and Nick hadn't met any of those qualifications. "But do they ever truly leave us?" Even knowing all this, he was still part of her. He was still the first person she thought of in the morning and the last she thought of before she fell asleep. He was in her bones, and she wondered if she'd ever be free of her feelings for him. "Or do we continue to see them around every corner - hear them in every dream..." Abruptly, Natalie marched over to the radio and snapped it off. Enough of this. No more self-pity. No more brooding. Duncan was in her life, and she owed it to herself - to of them - to give him a chance. To let him in. To stop being afraid. Across town, the Nightcrawler smiled. *** It was nearly dawn, and Nick got home just in time to bring down the shutters on his windows. He'd been cutting it too close lately - yesterday, he'd actually gotten singed. Why should he care if he was living on the edge? He felt dead inside, and it was no one's fault but his own. He was on his way to the kitchen for the blood when he noticed his answering machine light flashing. Natalie? Hope flared, then died - she wasn't going to be calling him. She barely spoke to him unless it was police business, and even then she was curt and to the point, never looking him in the eye. Janette again? He hadn't returned any of her calls. Seeing her just brought back memories of Nat even more vividly. He tapped the button and went back to the kitchen as it rewound. "Nicholas." The voice still sent a chill up Nick's spine. He had given up on hearing from LaCroix, since it had been well over two weeks since they spoke at the Raven. "Regarding the individuals you asked me to locate... You might wish to speak to a gentleman named Aaron Stuart. He runs a music shop on Yonge called - imaginatively enough - Stuart Music." The message ended abruptly. LaCroix was not one for idle pleasantries on answering machines. Nick had been to Stuart Music more than once. Ironic that it should be part of this case; ironic that the soft-spoken, bearded man who ran the store was probably an Immortal. Just more proof that no one was who - or what - you thought they were. *** Dawson and MacLeod had arranged to meet in a small park off Yonge Street, not far from Dawson's hotel. Joe was already there when Duncan arrived. One look at Duncan's face told Joe that he still hadn't been entirely forgiven. "MacLeod." "Dawson." Duncan sat down on the bench beside Joe, and they silently watched the parade of people through the park. It was a sunny day, and the people of Toronto were taking advantage of the good weather to get out of their homes and offices. They all looked happier than he and Duncan, thought Joe morosely. Joe valued Duncan's friendship a great deal. Duncan was as much a part of his extended family as the Watchers he had spent his life with. He had taken advantage of this friendship once or twice, but calling Duncan to Toronto to take care of Haydon had been beyond the normal bounds of their friendship. Dragging Duncan halfway around the world, right after Anne had left him... Joe knew he had to apologize again. "Duncan, I didn't know who else to call. He'd killed six of my people, and who knows how many Immortals." "I know. He killed friends of mine." Duncan hadn't taken his sunglasses off, and his face was inscrutable. "It's just that I don't like being your Immortal hired assassin." He grew silent as a woman pushing a gaily colored baby stroller walked by, and waited until she was past to continue talking. "I've done it before, and I may do it again, but I don't have to like it." "No, you don't." They were quiet for a while. Dawson couldn't really apologize any more - especially since he wasn't all that sorry. Haydon had deserved it. "How long will you be in Toronto?" asked Duncan, changing the topic. "I fly out tomorrow - I've been here long enough." He'd taken care of some Watcher business after the Haydon issue was cleared up, and didn't have any more excuses to linger. "What about you? Off to Paris?" "Not quite. I'm staying in town for a while." Joe wondered if it was too hard for him in Paris now that he and Anne had broken up, not to mention all the memories of Tessa that must still be everywhere. Joe had never thought that Duncan and Anne would last, but it was still never easy to end a relationship. "Do you have friends in Toronto?" Well, besides the five - no, four - Immortals living here, thought Joe. "A few, but that's not why I'm staying." Surprised, Joe realized that Duncan must be seeing someone - which would explain why he'd been so hard to get in touch with. He folded his arms and shook his head - MacLeod had more luck with women than any man had a right to have, mortal or Immortal. "You're in town for, what? A couple of weeks? There is no justice in this world. Who's the lucky woman?" Duncan laughed. It was the first time he'd relaxed around Joe since the midnight telephone call came, weeks ago, summoning him to Toronto. "How do you know it's a woman that's keeping me here?" When Joe just shook his head again, Duncan grinned. "Natalie Lambert." Joe thought back. "The doctor at the sidewalk cafe?" He remembered liquid eyes, and gentle hands on his wrist. "That's the one." Joe absently rubbed his left leg - it may have been artificial, but old habits die hard. Automatically, he sifted through his mental database of information on Duncan. He'd had been involved with all kinds of women over the years, and Natalie Lambert had impressed him as an intelligent, straightforward woman. Beautiful, too, though not in a cookie-cutter way. She certainly fit Duncan's requirements. "Good luck." "Thanks." The two men rose. "Safe journey, Joe." "You too." "So Myra said she didn't about the poker game, and she went to her Skin Pretty meeting - leaving me with a house full of Jenny's friends on my night off!" Nick was happy to let Schanke carry the conversation, inserting the occasional grunt of acknowledgment. He knew that he'd been lousy company for the last few weeks, and he appreciated Schanke's unquestioning acceptance of his moodiness. He was a good partner and a good friend. "Hey - you're gonna miss the turn." Schanke pointed at the corner that Nick was about to bypass. "Thanks." Braking, he swerved down Grenville Street. Schanke looked sideways at Nick. He just wasn't himself, though Schanke knew better than to ask what was wrong. Better to stay focused on the job. "You found anything more out about our decapitated mystery men?" "I'm talking with someone tomorrow." Talking to Stuart might help Nick any more beheadings; Nick couldn't tell Schanke that nothing was going to these homicides - at least not if he had anything to do with it. "Good," said Schanke as Nick pulled the Caddy up to the curb at the Coroner's Office. "If we could wrap up the Sleepy Hollow murders, we could get the files off our desks and pay attention to other cases. Like this Kincaid guy." Schanke gestured at the building where the body of Jim Kincaid, another innocent victim of gang warfare, was probably being autopsied while they talked. The partners started up the stairs to the building. Nick was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even see Natalie until Schanke called out a greeting. With a pang, Nick saw that Natalie was with MacLeod, and they were holding hands. They were obviously comfortable with one another - until Nat caught sight of Nick. She stiffened immediately, though she put on a smile for Schanke. "Hey, Schank. Nick." Her smile slipped as she said his name. She cleared her throat. "Duncan, you remember Nick Knight. This is his partner, Don Schanke." Duncan stepped forward and shook hands with Schanke, smiling an open, easy smile that made Nick want to break those perfect teeth into a thousand pieces. "Duncan MacLeod. Good to meet you, Detective Schanke." "Call me Don. Any friend of Natalie's is a friend of ours, right, Nick?" Schanke slapped Nick on the shoulder jovially. Nick had to grit his teeth together to keep from dropping his fangs and hurting someone. Badly. Duncan glanced from Natalie's white face to Nick's frozen eyes, and a suspicion he'd had since that first night in the morgue began to solidify. "We'd better get going, Duncan," said Natalie, interrupting his thoughts. "You're right - we have a dinner reservation. Good to meet you, Don." He nodded at Nick. "Knight." Duncan slipped an arm around Natalie's waist, and they walked down the stairs and out of sight. Nick couldn't help but watch them leave, resenting every second that Duncan touched Natalie. Schanke whistled under his breath. "Man! Nat's caught herself a live one. Myra would flip." "Hmm." Nick held open the door for his partner, hoping that his noncommittal response would stop this line of conversation. No such luck. "He's easy on the eyes - Jenny would probably say he's a 'babe.' And I bet women love that accent. Hey, Grace." Schanke filched a mint from the bowl on Grace's desk. "Hello, Detectives. Don't eat all of my candy!" She shot an extra- keen glance at Nick. "The Kincaid body is in with John." "Thanks, Grace." They headed down the hall. Fortunately, Schanke started talking about the Kincaid case. Nick didn't know what would happen if he had to hear anything else about Duncan MacLeod, but he knew it wouldn't be pretty. *** Duncan watched Natalie across the table. She'd been pushing the same piece of chicken around her plate for at least two minutes, and her eyes were focused somewhere over Duncan's left shoulder. She wasn't even in the same restaurant with him. "Natalie? Natalie Lambert?" Duncan called softly, waving his napkin at her. She started out of her reverie and made an apologetic face. "I'm sorry, Duncan. I'm not a good dinner companion tonight, am I?" "You're always good company." He paused as a busboy came over and refilled their water glasses. "You just haven't been in the same room with me for a while. What's wrong?" "Nothing." She was about to eat the chicken, then put down the fork and leaned back. "That's not true." "You haven't been yourself since we saw Nick and his partner tonight. Do you want to talk about it?" Natalie had never discussed her relationship with Nick with Not even her closest friends knew what he meant to her - though some probably suspected, based on the amount of time she used to spend with him. Looking over at Duncan, she realized - strangely - that she to tell him about Nick. Good, Nat, she thought. Talk about Nick to a man you're dating. Great way to move the relationship along. She wiped her fingers on the napkin, then looked up at Duncan with a sigh. "We... were involved." "You and Nick?" "Mmm hmm." "Were?" The picture of Nick with Janette came into her mind again. She still remembered the blood, the red-gold eyes flashing up at her... She forced the images back. "I broke it off. Our lives - well, they don't mesh." Duncan could hear the pain in her voice, still so fresh. "We want different things out of life." Duncan nodded. "I had a similar problem with my last relationship." Anne hadn't been able to handle what he was. He didn't know that he could blame her. Something inside him whispered that Natalie might have the same problems - if he let it get that far. "So, I guess we should be running away from each other - since we're both 'transitional'?" Natalie used the pop psych phrase lightly, belying the sadness she felt. Duncan leaned across the table and took Natalie's hand in his. "We could do that," he said, his eyes questioning. "If that's what you want." She looked down at his hand holding hers. He was so warm, so gentle. So damn attractive. "That's... not what I want," she said, her heart accelerating. They grinned at each other like teenagers. Duncan motioned to a passing waiter. "Check, please." *** "I'm afraid I can't help you, Detective Knight." Nick was frustrated. Aaron Stuart knew about the recent Immortal conflicts, but wasn't talking. He was immune to hypnotism - Immortals often, but not always, were - and seemed determined to get Nick out of his shop as quickly as he could. Nick settled more firmly into the chair, leaned back, and smiled. The average mortal would have run screaming from that smile, but Aaron Stuart was no mortal, and he was certainly not average. After 600 years, he wasn't about to let a Toronto police detective - who was also, probably, a vampire - intimidate him "At least... perhaps you could find out if there's some sort of renegade; someone out of control in the city?" Stuart leaned forward, looking intently into Nick's eyes. "Do you truly wish to know as a detective, or is this some kind of game you're playing?" Vampire game, his tone implied. Neither one of them were speaking the two words that were truly dominating this conversation - Immortal. Vampire. "I want to know as a police officer of the City of Toronto," said Nick firmly. He realized that it was critical he convince Stuart of his honesty. "I understand that these cases will remain unsolved, but I want to know if they are going to continue." Stuart rested his hands lightly on his knees, thinking. If he could get the police out of the investigation, it would make things easier all around. Not to mention that, if this man truly was a vampire - and he probably was - he had a vested interest in keeping this type of case out of the limelight. He made his decision. "It is over." "Over?" "The issue has been resolved." How could he explain it without getting too specific? "The second man was a predator. A... more honorable man took care of him." Stuart shut his eyes briefly, and when he opened them to look at Nick they were absolutely clear. "I'm afraid that is all that I can tell you." "The first death - was brought about by the predator?" "Yes." Stuart rose. "If you'll excuse me, Detective Knight, I have a music lesson starting in a few minutes. Is there anything else?" "No. Thank you for your help." It wasn't much, but Nick knew that Aaron Stuart had done him a favor by telling him as much as he had. Immortals were just as secretive as vampires, for many of the same reasons. The two men shook hands, each assessing the other. Stuart's suspicions were confirmed - the hand was much too cold to be mortal. But unlike most of the vampires Stuart had had the displeasure to meet, Knight seemed like a decent sort. Not to mention a frequent patron of his store. Natalie was dancing with Duncan, clasped tight against his chest. She hadn't felt this protected, this safe, in a very long time. He hummed lightly, one hand stroking her back and sending shivers up her spine. He was so light on his feet, and the feeling of her body touching his made her feel sensual and desirable. She looked up at Duncan, smiling. Her smile turned to horror as she saw LaCroix's face looking down at hers, her eyes red-gold and fangs fully extended. She screamed and struggled to pull away from him, but his arms were like iron bands locking her against his body, hurting her, trapping her. "You're mine, Doctor Lambert, and don't you forget that." His voice was dripping with menace, and she screamed again as those gleaming fangs came toward her, those eyes tried to hypnotize her - take away her will, her knowledge... And suddenly, they were Nick's fangs, Nick's unrecognizable eyes, and he had her pinned against a wall. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't get free. He laughed maniacally at her futile attempts to escape, then with a flourish he lowered his head to her throat and his fangs ripped into her skin - She woke, gasping for air, her face streaked with tears. Her apartment was dark and quiet and wonderfully familiar. It was just a dream, Natalie, she told herself. Her ragged breaths slowed, but she couldn't stop herself from shaking. When a hand touched her shoulder, she started violently and almost screamed. "Natalie?" Duncan sat up, putting his arm around her. She was trembling, hard, and even in the dark he could see that her eyes were wide with terror. "Are you all right?" She relaxed against him, taking another deep breath. "Bad dream." She didn't even recognize her own voice. Duncan tightened his arm around her and held her for a moment while she composed herself. "Lie down. It was just a dream." He tucked the blankets around her tenderly as she laid down. "You're safe now - no bogeymen here." He gently brushed her hair back from her face, and she smiled. "I know." She know that, too. Duncan somehow made her feel safe and cared for; never afraid, never threatened. As Duncan laid back down beside her, Natalie curled up as close to him as she could get. His warmth, the smell of him - like the bay rum cologne her grandfather had worn - slowly stopped her shaking and soothed her. He held her, stroking her hair until long after she fell back to sleep, feeling he was guarding something very precious. Neither of them noticed the face outside the bedroom window. "Janette," said Miklos quietly, touching her shoulder. "Nick is here." She turned with a delighted smile from her paperwork. "Why do you sound so somber, ?" She hadn't seen Nick in weeks - which wasn't that unusual, but she missed him. He hadn't even been returning her calls. She'd been worried at first - he'd been so when she'd seen him last. "He's at the corner booth." For a moment, there was compassion in his gaze, then Miklos returned to the bar. Straightening her dress - Janette took a very approach to her paperwork - she left her office, looking for Nicola. As soon as she saw him, she knew. Nick looked like someone had torn out his heart and refused to give it back. He looked haggard - Janette would bet he hadn't had a decent day's sleep in weeks, and that cow's blood he insisted on drinking wouldn't help. He was staring out at the crowd in the Raven, not really seeing anyone. Janette picked up the two bottles and glasses that Miklos had already set out on the bar and carried them to the booth where Nick sat, still lost in his own thoughts. He started when she set the bottle in front of him. "Don't worry. It's cow." "Thank you." His smile was wan, and he barely looked at the bottle. Fussing, Janette poured him a glass and frowned when he simply stared at it. "You look dreadful - drink." He took a half-hearted sip. "What is wrong, Nicola?" Janette touched his face gently, turning it towards her. "Whatever it is, you can tell me." "Nothing is wrong." His attempt at a smile was ghastly, and he avoided meeting her gaze. "Nonsense. You are here for a reason, and I don't think it's to ask me about your latest case." "I know better than to ask about Immortals," said Nick, a flash of humor showing through. "You " said Janette sharply. She softened her voice, still concerned. "Is it Natalie?" Janette knew that she had hit the mark. The pain in Nick's face at the very mention of Natalie's name was so fierce that Janette nearly felt it herself. They had never talked about the night that Natalie Lambert had interrupted them. Janette knew it had upset Nicola - he had shot out of his loft as if the Enforcers were on his heels - but she had not wanted to pursue the subject. After all, Nicola had been back in her arms. What did mortals matter? "She's... seeing someone else." Nick finally took a long drink of the blood. "Since she saw us - together - she hasn't been able to forgive me. And there's LaCroix, of course." Janette opened her mouth to ask, then realized that she didn't want to know what LaCroix's involvement with this was. Sometimes it was better not to know. Whatever it was, it was something else that Natalie was holding against Nick. Another thing that was causing Nick pain. "Is this 'someone else' serious?" Somehow, Janette doubted it. Janette suspected that Natalie Lambert was very much in love with Nicola, and she didn't seem the type to enter into casual relationships. Besides, it had only been a few weeks since she had walked in on them. Nick made a helpless gesture with his hands. "I don't know. She spends every spare minute with him." And you miss her, finished Janette silently. "He can be with her - night day, Janette," said Nick angrily. "Shouldn't I want her to be happy with someone who can give her the kind of life that I can't give her? Shouldn't I be able to let her go?" Janette hit him on his arm with enough force that he winced slightly. "Stop that. If you care for her, you will fight for her." "He was her, Janette." His hands clenched into fists as he spoke. "I went over to talk to her..." his voice trailed off and he was lost in a painful memory. Janette finished for him. "So, you've been spying on her, Nicola? And they've been together, as you cannot be with her. Did you think she would pine away for you forever?" She cupped her hands around his face, forcing him to look at her. "She is hurt, and angry. Mortals live by different standards than we do - you know that." Nick stared into the eyes that had been part of his life for 800 years. "I know." "She walked in on Nicola, and that's not something she's going to let pass. If you truly want to be with her, you must do penance - you cannot be with her and with me." Janette felt an illogical longing for a cigarette, which she covered by pouring herself a full goblet of blood. "You must do more than apologize." Janette couldn't believe that she was encouraging Nicola to leave her - to go to Natalie. She knew that it meant he wouldn't - couldn't - be with her any more... But for all practical purposes, he had left her already. Her beautiful Nicola. Janette had loved him from the moment she set eyes on him. Always, through the years and the separations and the fights, they returned to one another. He was her friend, her lover, and her companion. He would be her companion again, someday, after he left this particular mortal world. But while he was here, he needed to be free to love Natalie Lambert. Even though he had come back to her for a time, Natalie had a hold on him that frightened and angered her. Even as he'd used her - for he had been using her, and she hadn't cared - she'd felt Natalie in his blood. It couldn't be denied, and she loved Nicola too much to deny him what he wanted. Every one of Nick's 800 years showed in his face as he spoke. "Janette, there's nothing I can do. I lied to Natalie. I abused her trust. If she's happy now, I can't take that away from her." " Nicola! You are so sometimes!" Janette's tone was intentionally sharp - she had to cut through the self-pity that was choking him. "Have you really tried? Have you told her how you feel?" "Yes..." "I'll wager you've made one or two attempts, probably while she's at work or around other people. You probably tried to make pathetic excuses, as well. Those methods do not work, Nicola. If there is one thing I understand, it is how to appease a woman." Which was the one thing Nicola had understood. "You must own up to your mistakes. Discover what is important to her and that." Nick sat, deep in thought. When Janette had been angry at him, they had always let time pass - a luxury that vampires had. After several decades, a gift or a party or an especially young, appealing victim had usually softened her and brought them back together. He didn't have the luxury of time with Natalie. If she couldn't find a cure for him - and Nick was more and more beginning to doubt that anyone ever would - then he wanted to spend every minute left of her mortal lifetime with her. What mattered to Natalie? Everything he had denied her. Honesty. Being treated with respect. He took her and her love for granted. He had told Natalie one thing, and practiced another. She had been a constant presence in his life from the moment he sat up on her exam table - supporting him, teasing him, reminding him who he was. Nat had given him her heart, and he had lied to her. Now, she was with someone else. He love her enough to let her live a normal life - but knowing that didn't stop the fierce, painful jealousy that was consuming him every minute of every day. He had to make it up to her. Even if Duncan MacLeod became a permanent part of her life, Nick had to repair his and Natalie's relationship, at least to the point of friendship. Because... Because he couldn't go on without her. Janette watched the play of emotions across Nicola's drawn, unhappy face and guessed at what was going on in that head of his. He was being noble, she speculated, which would only last as long as he could control the jealousy and the vampire that came with that jealousy. Janette pitied the man Natalie was involved with - he didn't have a chance. "Thank you for understanding." Nick put his hands on her shoulders; she shrugged them off carefully. He rested his lips against her hair. "I love you, Janette. You know that." "I know, Nicola. I know. Now, go." She could only hold back the tears for so long, and she did not want him to see them. They would make him even more unhappy. And Janette couldn't bear to see Nicola unhappy, even if it meant losing him for a time. He kissed her quickly. As she watched him leave, she kept her head high and a smile pasted on her face - which crumbled as soon as Nick was out of the door. "Miklos, I do not wish to be disturbed." Ignoring his half-uttered question, Janette stalked into her office and slammed the door behind her. Even in her office, the tears wouldn't come. She paced back and forth, trying to calm her thoughts, trying to convince herself that she was doing the right thing. She was too weary and distracted to be angry when LaCroix materialized next to her. She didn't bother to greet him - she wasn't in the mood. "What do you want, LaCroix?" He folded his arms across his chest, electing to ignore her unpleasant tone. "Miklos tells me that Nicholas paid you a visit." "Miklos should learn when to be silent," snapped Janette, flashing an evil eye at the bartender hovering in the doorway. "Close that door, Miklos, " The door shut, and Janette moved away from the overpowering presence of LaCroix. She couldn't think clearly when he was around, sometimes, and right now she wanted badly to be able to think clearly. She wanted to be alone. "Something is going on with Nicholas, Janette." LaCroix's voice sliced through the silence, and she winced. "I know he is troubled, but he will not tell me why." He walked over behind Janette and put his hands on her shoulders, clasping them firmly, almost painfully. " will tell me why." When the sense of another Immortal's presence came over Duncan, he wasn't surprised. After all, he had sought this one out. "MacLeod!" Aaron Stuart set aside an antique cello he was polishing, and rose to greet Duncan with a warm handshake and a brief embrace. "It's good to see you, old man." "And you, Aaron. You're looking well." Duncan looked around the well- appointed shop, grinning. "A far cry this is from Gettysburg, eh?" Stuart laughed and motioned for Duncan to sit. "I can't believe we haven't seen each other for over a hundred years. Immortality causes us to take time for granted." He disappeared into the back of the shop, emerging with a pot of coffee and two mugs. "Coffee? It's damp out there." "Thanks." "I thought I might run into you..." Stuart's face grew somber. "Well, after Darius died. He always kept me posted on what you were doing. But by the time I heard he had died..." The men were silent, grim, each remembering their friend. When he spoke again, Stuart's voice was quiet. "I still think of him every day." "As do I." It still amazed Duncan how many lives, mortal and Immortal, Darius had touched. Sometimes Duncan thought he hadn't had a day of peace since Darius - and then Tessa - had died. The only time the ache softened was when he could talk about those who were gone. Stuart and MacLeod reminisced about past friends and old times. Sharing their memories of people who had been important to them, like Darius, helped them remember that not all of their lives were consumed with the Game; that there were many Immortals who had coexisted peacefully for centuries. "There's been a police officer nosing around about Haydon," said Stuart finally, hating to have to talk business with his old friend. "I tried to reassure him that it was done." Duncan drew a sharp breath. "Aaron, someone connected the deaths with us? With Immortals?" "Yes." Aaron sighed. "I couldn't tell him that I was glad the bastard was dead. If you hadn't taken care of Haydon, I'd have tried soon enough - I don't like that kind of scum in my city." "I don't like that kind of scum anywhere," said Duncan grimly. "He left a long trail of dead behind him - mortals, Immortals - anyone who got in his way." Both men had met more than their share of evil over time, but the worst were the ones who preyed on the weak. "It gets worse, Duncan - I think the police officer was a vampire. In fact, I'm sure of it." "A vampire." Duncan felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. At least if the cop was a vampire, it explained how he was able to connect the deaths to Immortals. The thought that there was some vampire cop running around the city - or a vampire to be a cop - threw him for a loop. Aaron read his thoughts. "He a real police officer, Duncan. I called after he left to verify it." Leaning over, he flipped through a pile of papers on a table. "Here's his card - Nicholas Knight." If Stuart had wanted to, he could have pulled out his sword, polished it, used it to eat an apple and then cut off Duncan's head in slow motion - and Duncan wouldn't have stopped him. He was paralyzed with shock. *** It had been one hell of a night at work, and Natalie was exhausted. Toronto's gangs had decided it was time to butcher one another, so she had spent all night working on kids. Babies, really. She was in a foul mood and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep - she was glad, for once, that Duncan wouldn't be there. was exactly what she wanted to be. She was outside her apartment door, fumbling for her keys, when she felt someone standing near her. With a sinking feeling, she looked up. It was LaCroix. "Get away from me, you bastard." Natalie backed away from LaCroix, slowly. "I'm sorry, Miss..." He was the picture of injured innocence. "Oh, please." In the back of her mind, Natalie was frantically wondering if she had anything that might be of use in this situation - garlic? A cross? A handy-dandy purse sized wooden stake? Maybe she should start carrying some kind of vampire protection around... "You know who I am, and I know you." LaCroix's eyes narrowed; Natalie could have sworn there was a hint of gold in them. " is it that you remember , Doctor Lambert?" "I'm a lot less stupid than you and Nick seem to think I am," replied Natalie bravely. "Your hypnosis doesn't take on me. I get a little fuzzy at first, then it comes back to me." In all his years, LaCroix had only seen a few mortals who had any natural defenses against a vampire's persuasive abilities. Somehow, it didn't surprise him that this woman was one of them. Did she remember that he had used drugs to ensure her compliance? Natalie was holding onto her keys so tightly that she was sure they were going to cut her skin open. The pain reminded her that it was important she not show how terrified she was - how seeing LaCroix again was bringing back the same helpless feelings of that night at the Azure. He might hear her heart beating double-time, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of her fear. Natalie drew a deep breath and said a silent prayer to whatever God it was that protected silly mortals. "Why are you here, LaCroix? What do you want from me?" "What I have always wanted," he replied, his voice silky. "Nicholas." To LaCroix's surprise, Natalie let out a short laugh. "He's all yours. He always was." LaCroix found himself at a loss for words, which was something that didn't happen often. What did she mean? Had she truly given up on Nicholas, as Janette had said? The question he was about to ask was abruptly cut off as a dark figure crashed into him, knocking him down and pinning him to the floor. Nick snarled down at LaCroix, hands around his neck. "Nick, !" screamed Natalie, flattening herself against the wall. No matter how many times she had seen Nick as a vampire it never ceased to terrify her. It reminded her brutally that Nick was the Other; that which is feared and hunted. But so was LaCroix, and LaCroix could kill Nick. In a flash, LaCroix had pushed Nick off and the two vampires faced each other, circling. Nick was snarling and poised to strike, while LaCroix just smiled his genial, dangerous smile with a hint of red in his eyes. "There is no need to be so upset, Nicholas. We were just having a discussion," said LaCroix. "About... many things." "Shoes, and ships, and sailing wax..." Natalie added, giddily. Nick shot a look at her, concerned, before returning his red-gold gaze to LaCroix. "Get out of here, LaCroix," said Nick. The menace in his voice was so strong that it seemed to fill the entire hallway. LaCroix was unperturbed. "And you say you do not care about this woman. Nicholas, when will you learn that you cannot lie to ?" "Leave Natalie alone. You have no right to be here." Nick felt like he was back on Valentine's night; all he could feel was pure fear. Fear that LaCroix would hurt - or kill - Natalie. "And what right do have, Nicholas? Especially since the good doctor is apparently very without you?" LaCroix laughed softly. "Why do you still care for her? She's getting what she wants from somewhere else." Natalie could tell that Nick was about to launch himself at LaCroix. Please, God, don't let him, she thought frantically - LaCroix will kill him. She couldn't bear that. Suddenly, anger overcame her. " all this macho bullshit - right !" Natalie actually stamped her foot, and both Nick and LaCroix turned in surprise. "It would be best if you stayed out of this..." Natalie cut Nick off. "Sorry - dragged me into this. You're in hallway, trying to play with mind. Too late to ask me to ignore it." She looked at LaCroix contemptuously. "And if you want me to forget what's going on - what will you do, me?" Nat knew she wasn't being smart, but damn it - she didn't to be smart any more. This man was evil. He had hurt Nick, over and over - and hurt her. Natalie was sick and tired of these goddamned vampires screwing with her life. She felt a moment of longing for Duncan - his sane, mortal self - before she went back into her rage. "How does your thought process work - 'well, if you can't control the mortal with hypnosis, you might as well drug her?' " Natalie knew her voice was trembling, and she didn't care. "You bastard." "Natalie..." Nick's face, the vampire gone, was full of concern. He tried to touch her, but she shook off his touch violently. "No. If he wants to play with your life, it's between the two of you. But when he starts stepping into life, I have the right to tell him what I think about it." Natalie didn't think she had ever been this angry. Even LaCroix recognized the dangerous fury in her eyes - he'd seen it in his own over the years. "Actually, she's correct, Nicholas." LaCroix shrugged, ignoring the stunned looks on both Nick and Natalie's faces. "She did not ask to get involved in our little difference of opinion, and perhaps I should have thought of that before I used her as a weapon against you." Nick didn't believe one word coming out of LaCroix's mouth. He'd used everyone Nick had ever cared about - he wouldn't stop at using Nat. He wouldn't stop at her. Nick had already lost Natalie's heart to Duncan MacLeod. He had no intention of losing her life to LaCroix. "I have no desire to kill you, Doctor Lambert." There was an unusual look on LaCroix's face - if Natalie hadn't known better, she would have said it was respect. "I believe the world is a more interesting place with you in it." He stepped closer to Natalie and used a single finger to tilt her face towards his. Nick made a low, threatening noise but oddly, she didn't resist, sensing no malice in the gesture. LaCroix looked into her eyes for a moment, searching for something. He nodded, apparently satisfied, then faster than she could see he was gone. Natalie saw Nick moving towards her and held up her hands. "No. I'm fine. You... just leave me alone." Aware that she was shaking, and knowing he could see that, she tucked her hands in her coat pockets and half-turned away from him, gathering what was left of her composure. "Natalie, please," said Nick, pleading. He could hear her heart beating so quickly that it alarmed him. Her face was averted, but he could see her whole body trembling. Without thinking, he took her in his arms and held her tightly. He had come so close to losing her - again - and only by holding her could he reassure himself that she was still still all right. Nat's immediate instinct was to push him away - but he held on, running one hand gently over her hair, down her back, and for one blissful moment she relaxed against him. Without realizing it, her arms crept around him. It was so to be with Nick, to be in his arms again. She had been so frightened... Memories hit her like a sharp punch in the stomach. Letting out an audible gasp, she pulled away from Nick with every bit of strength she had. This time he didn't stop her, but watched helplessly as she turned and covered her face with her hands, willing herself to be strong. To be calm. "I think you'd better go." The voice hardly sounded like hers. Nick had never heard Natalie sound so frail, so tired. "Natalie - let me stay. Please." He paused, running one hand through his hair. He couldn't think of anything to say that would come close to making up for everything Nat was going through. "I'm sorry that you got into all of this." "Are you, Nick?" The words came out of some dark painful place in her heart. "I'm in a hallway with two vampires. One of them is quoting Hannibal Lecter at me, and the other one..." Natalie wasn't shaking any more - she was still, and cold. So cold that she felt like she might die. "I don't think you're sorry at all, Nick. I don't think you about anyone, or about the consequences of what you do." Natalie drew her coat closer around herself, and looked Nick in the eyes with a level, icy gaze that he knew meant business. "Get the hell away from me." She went into her apartment and closed the door firmly behind her. *** None of them had noticed the figure standing in the shadows at the end of the hall. Under normal circumstances, one of the vampires would have heard his heartbeat. But these weren't normal circumstances. Duncan stood in shock, still unable to believe what he had seen. Lucien LaCroix. After all these years, that damn vampire was still alive. The way that LaCroix had looked at Natalie... Duncan didn't like the way that this was developing. Not one bit. And Knight a vampire, too. Stuart was right. What in God's name had Natalie gotten herself mixed up in? was the man she'd been involved with? Something had to be done. He had to try to protect Natalie. A thought went across the back of his mind, quietly - why not ask Natalie to come with him to Paris? She'd be - well, saf with him - wouldn't she? Lost in thought, Duncan headed back to his hotel. Would Natalie truly be any safer with him than with Nick? *** Thoughts of Natalie were driving Nick insane. His dreams were haunted by her; even when he was awake he couldn't get her out of his mind. In the weeks since the encounter with LaCroix, he'd dreamed about it a hundred times - and often the dream ended with Nat dead, drained of blood, lying pale and crumpled at LaCroix's feet while his master laughed and laughed. He'd even dreamed of taking Natalie himself, in excruciating detail. What unsettled him most about the dream was that even when he was awake he could remember the sweetness of her blood; still remember how it felt to look at the life beating under her skin and to rip it from her. Nick paced the floor of his loft, fighting the urge to hit or throw or destroy something. It was his night off, and Cohen had told him sternly that she didn't want to see his face in the precinct - or else. He didn't want to see Janette; he couldn't paint - he was just full of a confusing, black rage that he didn't know how to get rid of. He had to get past this somehow. After 800 years, he should be able to get one woman out of his mind, especially when that woman was perfectly happy without him. He'd gone to see Natalie to apologize. He had wanted to tell her that he was happy for her; that he wanted their friendship back. Instead, LaCroix had been there and once again the threat to Natalie had shaken him to the bottom of his heart. Both Janette and Natalie had said some of the same things to him: he wanted to have it both ways, and he couldn't. Janette might tolerate his affection for mortal women, but his relationship with Natalie was based in the assumption that Nick wanted to be mortal again - something he hadn't been practicing lately. He knew in his heart that Natalie was right - he hadn't been true to what he said he wanted. She had every right to cast him off and move in a new direction. Every logical right. Right now, though, logic had no place. He couldn't get away from the waking images. It was like some kind of vicious matinee running nonstop in his head - and the performer that got top billing wasn't LaCroix, or even Natalie alone. It was Natalie - with MacLeod. Natalie. What did she know about Duncan MacLeod, really? He owned a dojo out west; lived half the year in Paris - not a lot of information on someone you spent most of your waking moments with, were with, was it? He wasn't being rational about this. Why the hell should he be rational? wasn't being rational - she had bounced straight from him to this MacLeod person. Rebound. That was it - she was on the rebound. And he was jealous - bitterly, violently jealous that the woman he loved was with another man. And he had lost her because of his own selfishness. He eyed the computer, newly installed in the corner of his loft. Feliks had given him a crash course in the basics of hacking - "Such an indelicate name for a process that takes such finesse" - and this might be just the time to test it out. See if there was anything unpleasant in this MacLeod's background. Natalie grinned as hands covered her eyes. "Who's this?" "Umm... Prince Charles?" Nat turned around. "Your ears are nicer," she said, grabbing one. "Ow!" She let go, giggling. "Just my ears?" Duncan wrapped his arms around her. "Well, I can't honestly say I've seen any of Charles' other parts..." Natalie yelped as Duncan swatted her behind playfully. "Stop!" She looked around the exam room, guiltily. "There's no one around. Grace wasn't even at her desk." Duncan knew that Natalie was always careful to maintain an image of absolute professionalism, and he respected that. He always seemed to care for women who were passionately committed to their work - Tessa, Anne, and now Nat. "What are you doing here?" Natalie asked, checking her watch. "I didn't think you were coming for another hour." "Would you be able to go to dinner a bit early? Aaron wants to take me to a jazz club later tonight." Natalie had met Aaron Stuart the week before, and had warmed immediately to his gentle manner and dry sense of humor. She had smiled to herself, though - Aaron and Duncan actually dressed alike. She had almost asked Aaron if he were a member of the "Trenchcoat Club" - both he and Duncan seemed to wear them continually. "Sure. So - you're going bar-hopping?" Duncan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I understand there are loose women in Toronto." "Really?" Natalie pretended to think. "If you meet any loose men, could you send them in my direction?" They were both laughing as Grace poked her head through the swinging door, her face breaking into a smile when she spotted Duncan. The smile widened when she saw Duncan's arms around Natalie. "Hello, Duncan! Nat..." she paused, reluctantly. "Nick called about the tox report for that drowning case. He had a few questions." "I'll call him back, Grace. Thanks." Natalie turned away from Duncan. He had felt her body tense at the mention of Nick's name, and he saw her hands clench as she went over to her desk. Duncan knew at that moment, with absolute certainty, that his suspicions were correct. Natalie was still in love with Knight. Painfully, unwillingly, totally. Duncan had seen it when she looked at Nick. He'd seen the way they held each other in the hall that night. He'd seen the shadow in her eyes sometimes when they were together. Even in the moments where he should have been the only person Natalie was thinking about, he'd sensed the presence of another man. There was nothing Duncan - or Natalie - could do about it. He knew that Nat cared about him, but Duncan couldn't fight love like that. It was the kind of love that Duncan had felt for Tessa, for Little Deer. Eventually, she'd leave him, or fade away into someone that wasn't truly Natalie any more. He couldn't bear to have that happen. He'd lost too much already. He couldn't take Natalie away with him. There was, however, one other way he could try to protect her. *** It was there. Subtle, but there. Maybe no one but a vampire who'd lived for eight hundred years would notice it, but the paper trail was He had too much money, too carefully placed, with too many dead ends and hidden corners. There were a number of mysterious trusts that were eerily similar to the de Brabant foundation that Nick himself funded. There were several links to a Connor MacLeod - possibly another name that Duncan used. Midway through Nick's search, he had stopped and called Feliks, asking for his expert help. The picture that Feliks had put together, using his intimate knowledge of the financial world and of computer secrecy, was a distinctive one. "Nick, this man is either incredibly cagey or he's some kind of immortal," Feliks had said on the telephone. Nick could hear the excitement in his voice - nothing charged Feliks like winning a battle with the computer, and playing against whoever it was that had set up all the precautions. "Well, he isn't a vampire," said Nick absently, thinking, wondering. "You know as well as I do that we aren't the only creatures out there, Nick. Whoever this Duncan MacLeod is, he probably isn't mortal. No mortal needs to go to this much trouble. And not many mortals give away as much money as he does." When Nick had hung up the phone, he put his head in his hands. He had hated Natalie being with MacLeod. He'd been angry and jealous - but at the same time he'd thought that maybe it was best for both of them that she have a chance for a normal life with someone who cared for her. Now this. Once again, he'd be responsible for destroying Natalie's happiness. *** "Lucien." "Duncan." The men faced each other. On the surface, it was an uneven match - Duncan didn't possess LaCroix's superhuman strength, and he certainly couldn't fly. But LaCroix would not again make the mistake of considering MacLeod an unworthy opponent. Duncan's skill with the sword matched LaCroix's own; if LaCroix were more generous he'd admit that Duncan was better than he. MacLeod was also quick with a wooden stake. Too quick. "Sit down, Duncan." They had chosen a hotel lobby bar as the place for their meeting - public meetings were less likely to end in the confrontation that neither one of them wanted. "To what do I owe the rare pleasure of your company? It's been at least... What? 150 years?" "That sounds about right." Duncan paused, noting the silver pin in LaCroix's cravat. "Nice pin." "Yes... you would find it compelling, wouldn't you?" LaCroix leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the armrests, the picture of relaxation. "How is Amanda these days?" "She's well." Duncan had no intention of sharing any information on Amanda with LaCroix. "I'm glad to hear it - that's one neck that should stay attached." He ignored Duncan's scowl. "What the occasion for this meeting?" "I'm collecting on that favor you owe me," said Duncan, eyeing the vampire before him. LaCroix sat, perfectly still, one eyebrow slightly raised as he waited for Duncan to continue. Duncan wouldn't be calling in this particular favor without a very reason. "Natalie Lambert." "Ahhh." LaCroix drew the word out, sensually. "The good Doctor. Such an woman... a challenge, really." He smiled at Duncan; it was not a pleasant expression. "What is your interest in her?" "She's a friend." "Why, Duncan. You never cease to amaze me. You're of this woman!" Suddenly his eyes narrowed in realization. "So the one she's been seeing..." Not expecting a reply, LaCroix chuckled. "I don't suppose you've informed her that you're several hundred years old? That you're an Immortal?" "She doesn't know, and she's not going to." Duncan's tone bespoke no argument, even from LaCroix. "It's bad enough that she's aware of your world - she has no need to know of mine." "On that, I suppose you are right," mused LaCroix. "She is a fascinating woman, this Natalie Lambert." " to you." Duncan's words were as cold and sharp as the katana that was undoubtedly somewhere on his person. "I'm leaving Toronto, and I want to know that you're not a threat to her." "A threat? Me?" LaCroix was accustomed to toying with his mortal conversational partners, but one look across the table at Duncan's steady, dark eyes reminded him that it was not a good idea to toy with this Immortal. LaCroix leaned forward and allowed the tiniest flecks of gold to creep into his eyes. "If you ask that I not harm her, you have my word. The good Doctor will not suffer at my hands." He paused. "I think that the greater threat, however, may come from Nicholas." LaCroix watched Duncan closely, and was disappointed when he realized Duncan already knew what Nick was. This promise secure, Duncan allowed himself to take a deep breath. "At least Natalie stands chance with Nick." LaCroix's head turned sharply, eyes gleaming, and a corner of his mouth rose in an unwilling smile. "Yes. She's a formidable woman. Nearly a match for a vampire." "Or for an Immortal." They were quiet. What was asked had been promised. Both men knew that - if he wanted to - LaCroix could find a number of ways to harm Natalie without coming within a mile of her. But LaCroix's word had been given, and he took his debts seriously. There was nothing more that needed to be said. Duncan and Natalie had originally planned on going out to dinner, but both were tired and preoccupied and they'd ended up eating in. Duncan was a better cook than Natalie, so he'd cooked and she cleaned up. "Perfect division of labor," he'd joked, hoping to see her smile. She had, but it had been a small, quiet smile. After dinner, Natalie made coffee while Duncan sat on the couch, cuddling Sidney. Sidney adored Duncan beyond all reason and loved to curl up in his lap, purring madly. When Natalie joined them on the couch, Sidney left with a flick of his tail. He was clearly annoyed at having to share Duncan's attention with anyone, even Natalie. They sat quietly for a while, listening to music, each lost in their thoughts. Finally, Duncan set down his coffee mug and turned so that he faced Nat more fully, resting his arm along the back of the couch. "I think that it's time I went back to Paris." His statement hung in the air, and Natalie realized that she wasn't surprised. She should be - they hadn't reduced the amount of time they'd been spending together, and the intensity of their relationship hadn't changed - but had. Nick had been even more on her mind since the confrontation with LaCroix; Duncan had to have sensed it. "I know that you care about me, Natalie." He touched her cheek gently. "But you're still in love with Nick." He couldn't tell her that he knew Nick was. Natalie opened her mouth to deny it - to tell Duncan how much she really cared for him - but found she couldn't speak. Duncan was a perceptive man, and had seen her with Nick. It didn't take a psychic to figure out how she felt about him - it was all over her face. Natalie's silence confirmed his statement. She just looked at him, her enormous eyes filled with tears, and instinctively they moved towards one another. Natalie curled up against him, and he held her tightly, each drawing comfort from the other. "I'm sorry." Natalie's voice was muffled against his shoulder. "Don't be," said Duncan simply. "I don't regret a minute." "Neither do I." Natalie drew back, his arm still around her shoulders, and smiled through her tears. She looked at his face, trying to imprint it in her memory. "When are you leaving?" "Tonight - there's a redeye to Paris. I just have a few things to take care of first." Disentangling himself, he went over to his coat and fished through the pockets. "Here." Duncan handed her a small box, unwrapped. Natalie touched the velvet of the box and looked up at him, uncertain. "What's this?" "Open it." Duncan watched as Natalie opened the top of the box. It was a ring - gold, with a small heart in the middle flanked by hands and a crown. Natalie expelled a breath, admiring the warm glow of the gold. "It's beautiful, Duncan." With fresh tears, she looked up at him again. "I can't accept this." "Yes, you can." Duncan took the ring out of the box and, sitting next to her, slipped it firmly onto the middle finger of her right hand. "This is a Claddagh ring. The heart stands for love, and the hands show friendship - both of which I feel for you." He put his arm around her again. "It's a symbol that means a lot to me." Goodbyes never did get any easier. He touched the ring with one careful finger. "It's on your right hand, with the heart turned in - that means your heart is thinking about love, but you haven't yet been claimed." So much symbolism in such a little bit of gold wrapped around the finger. Natalie leaned her head against him, and they looked at the ring on her outstretched hand. "Is it Scottish?" "Irish, actually," said Duncan, shrugging apologetically. "We Scots don't hesitate to borrow a good thing whenever we can." He was glad to hear her laugh. "When... when you're with the one you love, you move the ring to your left hand." He wondered if she'd ever be able to move the ring. "Heart inward?" "Heart inward." This was the best for both of them; if LaCroix kept his word, and he could talk some sense into Nick, Natalie would have a chance. She deserved a chance. She deserved so much. After Duncan left, Natalie curled up in the corner of her couch, staring at the ring. The apartment seemed too big, somehow, without Duncan in it. She had lived alone for a long time, but the clutter and confusion of another person around her home and in her life had been surprisingly welcome. Duncan had come closer to her heart than anyone in years, and if it hadn't been for Nick... Natalie could feel the tears building up inside her. She fought them - she hated self-pity. But damn it, she was tired of always being strong. She was tired of being the world's foremost expert on loss. She let go and sobbed like a small lost child for everything she had lost in her life, for everyone that had broken through the wall around her and hurt her anyway. For Richard, for Duncan, for Nick. It all hurt too much. It was too much to bear. But she bear it, and go on. *** After he left Natalie's apartment, Duncan sat in his rented car for a long time, eyes shut. Four hundred years of losing people had never anesthetized him. He'd learned many things - how to fight, how to disappear, how to change lives - but he'd never learned how to stop missing people. He was going to miss Natalie Lambert a great deal. Oh, he'd be able to keep in touch for a while. Even see her once or twice. He'd need to, just to know she was safe, even though it would hurt him to see her still wasting her love and her passion on a man - a vampire - who didn't deserve her, and who couldn't love her like a mortal could. But in a few years, he'd have to "lose touch" with her. An ex-lover who wasn't aging tended to cause questions. When his thoughts were collected, Duncan headed over to Knight's place. He lived in a loft in the warehouse district, with a sophisticated security system much like the ones Duncan had in his homes. Fortunately, Nick was home. He didn't seem surprised that Duncan had come. "MacLeod." "Knight." Duncan walked into the loft, noting the artwork, the spare design. With only a few minor changes, a better-equipped kitchen, and one less vampire, he would have been comfortable here. "I think we need to talk." Nick laughed, without humor. He could feel the vampire, just below the surface, fighting to come out. "I'd have to agree with that." He hadn't known how to approach MacLeod, and had settled for a very mortal, very cop way of dealing with it - he had spent time gathering more evidence. Even vampires procrastinated when they didn't quite know how to handle something. It was when he'd seen Duncan out with Aaron Stuart one night that he'd put the last pieces together. Both men spoke at the same time - "I know what you are." Realizing what each other had said, they stared at one another in shock. Nick broke the silence first. "How do you know?" he asked, carefully. "I saw you and LaCroix - with Natalie." Duncan's voice was rough, angry. "How could you put her in jeopardy like that?" Nick hadn't gotten past the first part of the statement. "You know LaCroix? How?" "A very long story." Duncan slipped off his trenchcoat and threw it over the back of a chair. "Relax, Knight," said Duncan dryly. "I'm not here to plunge a stake through your heart. We have more important things to discuss." Nick nodded, agreeing, and motioned for Duncan to sit down. They sat, edgily, each staring at the floor, until Nick broke the silence. "Natalie." "Natalie." Duncan waited for Nick to continue and was rewarded with stony silence. Duncan realized the absurdity of the situation - here he sat with a vampire, discussing a woman that was in love with the vampire, but who had just been involved with an Immortal. Oh - and apparently the vampire was also in love with her. How did he get himself into these situations? Nick controlled his anger - it wouldn't do him any good with MacLeod - and put on his best cop face. "You killed the second Immortal." Duncan was the honorable man that Stuart had mentioned. "I did." Duncan could hear the anger in Nick's voice, and was fairly sure he saw glints of gold in his eyes as he spoke. "If you're bringing Natalie into this Game of yours..." "I'll do no such thing - I'm leaving. It's best for Natalie." He looked away from Nick, seeing things that Nick could only imagine. "I don't want her hurt." "Good." Duncan laughed, sharply. "You're a fine one to worry about keeping her safe, Knight. You're playing a dangerous game with LaCroix, and Natalie has become a pawn in it. What are going to do to protect her?" Duncan's words stung Nick. He the danger Nat was in - from him and from LaCroix - and honestly didn't know how to protect her from it. She wouldn't be hypnotized, and he couldn't bear to leave her. Duncan watched the emotions flickering across Nick's face, and his heart grew heavy. Knight couldn't do a damn thing; he'd drawn Natalie into this nightmare and - unless she was able to break free of it by herself - didn't have the means or desire to let her go. He, at least, had one thing to offer. "Since you're apparently not going to do a damn thing, I've done what can. LaCroix will na' hurt her." Unconsciously, Duncan's accent was heavier. "And you can guarantee that?" asked Nick, sneering. "I suppose you just him to let her alone?" LaCroix didn't listen to human, vampire, or Immortal - MacLeod was dreaming if he thought LaCroix would ever back off of Natalie. By association, Natalie was becoming another obsession of LaCroix. "That's fairly accurate. Let's just say he owed me a favor," said Duncan remotely. Nick knew that he must look as dumbfounded as he felt. MacLeod meant it - LaCroix agreed not to hurt Natalie. Why? "Must have been quite a favor." "It was. Whatever I may think of Lucien, he pays his debts." It wasn't the kind of honor code that Nick liked, but Duncan was correct - LaCroix pay his debts. His impeccable memory stored favors and slights like an accountant, and repaid them with the same care with which they were recorded. "I'm leaving Toronto for Natalie's sake." Duncan didn't like having to explain himself, but realized he needed Nick to understand he was going. Not that it would make any difference to Nick; the man didn't - - understand what he was doing to Natalie. "When she's with me, Nick, she's in danger. Like you, there are people in my life that would use her to get to me. I can't let that happen, and I can't protect her." His face was haunted. "Besides - I'm not the one she's really in love with. I can't take her away from here, no matter how much I'd like to." "You offer her a more life than I may ever be able to," said Nick, although something inside him sang at Duncan's words. Natalie still loved him - despite all his mistakes, despite all the pain he had caused her. He still had a chance. "Not for long." Duncan's voice was weary. They had both been through this before - more times than either of them could bear to remember. "Natalie is a smart woman. I'd have to tell her, or it would only take her a few years to realize that I'm not getting any older. She certainly knows I'm not a vampire, so she'll start looking for another reason - or she'll get involved in the Game. I don't want her to have to carry burden." Nick winced. He didn't like to think about everything he expected Natalie to understand and accept. Duncan saw Nick's expression, and knew it was time to be brutal. "LaCroix will destroy anyone and anything you care about, and you know it." Nick was silent, listening. "I got his promise that he wouldn't harm her himself. But I think may be more dangerous to Natalie than LaCroix could ever be. And Lucien knows that - it's probably why I was able to get the promise out of him at all." "I'd never hurt Natalie," said Nick - but the statement rang hollow to both of them. He had already hurt her a thousand times. "You haven't any idea of what you've got, do you, Knight?" Duncan looked at the blonde vampire, pushing down his feelings of disgust. "You have no idea how special she is." He rose from the couch without giving Nick a chance to reply. "I care about Natalie, and if I can protect her - by leaving, or by getting a mildly demented vampire to promise that he won't hurt her, I " He picked up his trenchcoat. "Unfortunately, I can't protect Natalie from you." *** Natalie sat at her desk, trying hard to focus on the work in front of her. Work had always pulled her through the rough times, and she was counting on that now. Her eyes kept straying to the Claddagh ring on her hand. Duncan had been right - she loved Nick, and he held first place in her heart. But in the days since Duncan had left, Natalie had missed him more than she thought possible. He had quickly become such a part of her life that she missed his presence. Waking up with him, curling up against him on the couch, making love with him - all had reminded her of that part of herself she had shut off a long time ago. But Duncan knew her heart better than she did. Duncan was not one to hold second place to anyone, or anything. He deserved better. Nat sighed, and resolutely opened a folder bulging with undone paperwork. Time to dig in, and put those thoughts behind her. Work had always been there - and it always would be. "Hello, Natalie." Surprised, Nat looked up and saw Nick leaning against the wall in front of her desk. "I hate it when you sneak up on me like that." He almost never got away with it, but when she was really distracted - like now - he was as sneaky as Sidney. Uh-oh - he was wearing the blue shirt again. He didn't look well, she thought; his face was drawn and even paler than usual. The circles under his eyes told her he hadn't been sleeping well. Sternly, she stifled her pity. "I didn't sneak up on you." He looked at her closely, seeing the sadness in her eyes, heard her heart skip a beat before she looked away. "I actually tried to make some noise, but you didn't hear me. How are you?" "All right." "You look - down. Tired." There was concern in his voice. Nat fought the lump in her throat. He was here to make amends, she knew. Such timing he had. If only things could go back to how they had been with her and Nick - but they never could. She still loved him, but there was an edge to her love, sharpened by mistrust. She sighed. "Duncan has left town." What could Nick say? Natalie, I know he left because he told me he was going, and he actually killed one of those headless John Does you had, but it's all right because they are Immortals, and it's better that he's gone because you could have gotten caught up in their Game... "Are you all right?" "I'm fine." A crack in her voice and the shadow on her face betrayed her. "It was the right thing for him to do." Because I'm still hopelessly in love with you, she thought, no matter what has happened between us. Nick realized that she missed Duncan. Nick didn't her to miss Duncan. He wanted Natalie back - all of her. But he had given up that right when he lied to her. He had to accept that Natalie would be drawn to other people - other men - and that unless he was able to treat her with the respect and love she deserved, he'd lose her. He couldn't lose her. He'd learned, all too well, that life without Natalie meant nothing but emptiness. He offered her the only olive branch he had. "Janette is gone." Natalie didn't bother to hide her surprise. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?" "She's left Toronto. Miklos is in charge of the Raven now." Nick looked very old all of a sudden. "I don't know where she went. She didn't even tell me." "Oh, Nick. I'm sorry." Despite everything, Natalie knew how much Janette meant to Nick. She hesitated, then rose from her desk and put her hand gently on his arm. Nick looked down at her hand, so small and warm, and his heart lurched as he saw the Claddagh ring on her middle finger. It hadn't been there MacLeod must have given it to her. And the heart of the ring was pointed inward. For Nick. Natalie realized what he was looking at and lifted her gaze to meet his. The look in Nick's eyes made Natalie want to cry - she was doing far too much of that lately - but she met them steadily. Everything she felt for him was in her face - the love, the hurt, the fear - and he covered her hand with one of his own, holding it tightly, relishing her touch again after all the time and all the anger. "Nat..." What could he say, really, that would make up for what he'd done to her? "I know." She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his chest. Nick bent and kissed her hair, tenderly, breathing in the familiar scent of her. They were together, and that was enough for now. They had a lot of talking to do and obstacles to overcome, but they were together. Somehow they'd work through everything and find a way back. He'd prove how much he loved her - and how he wanted to be mortal, and share his life with her. The phone rang, breaking the silence, and Natalie moved reluctantly away from Nick to answer it. "Forensics - Doctor Lambert." She paused, her eyes not leaving Nick as she listened to the voice on the other end. "Yes - I'll tell him. Thanks." She hung up. "That was Schanke - there's a lead on that drowning case." Shrugging, she sat down at her desk. "He wants you to meet him at the station. Back to work, I guess." "Nose to the grindstone," he joked, unable to take his eyes off her. "Nat... Are you off Friday night?" She pretended to check her calendar. "I just happen to be free." "Dinner? Movies? My place?" Nick knew that his voice sounded pathetically eager, but he couldn't help himself. "I rent the movies - you bring the protein drink." Natalie smiled. It was a wan imitation of the Natalie smile, but it gave Nick hope. "Vanilla, chocolate or strawberry?" "Surprise me." No use in telling her they all tasted the same - at this point, he'd drink garlic juice if she asked him to. "I'll be there." "Goodnight, Natalie." "Goodnight, Nick." He was about to leave when her voice, small and shaky, stopped him. "Nick?" He was back at her side almost before she finished saying his name. "There's one thing I still don't understand. Why did LaCroix come after me that night?" Seeing his wince, she hastened to explain. "Not Valentine's Day - but the other time." Nick leaned against her desk, thinking back. "I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I... went to Janette. We talked about you - how you were seeing someone else. And how I felt about that." Natalie pressed her lips together tightly, but didn't interrupt him. "She must have told LaCroix... and he came to find out if we were apart. He must have thought you were still hypnotized, and that you'd give him information." "So he's still a threat," Natalie said flatly. "He's still going to be watching us." "He'll be watching - but LaCroix won't hurt you. I swear it." She picked up a pen, avoiding his eyes, and he knew she didn't believe him. "Natalie - he Trust me on this." He sounded so certain - why? How could he be sure of when it came to LaCroix - and could she really trust him? She set her jaw - she would learn to trust him again. This time, he'd earn it. "You'd better go before Schanke sends out a search party." Nick turned and looked back at Natalie as he left. The light from the desk lamp shone on her face as she stared down at the pile of paperwork in front of her. One long, curly strand of hair had come loose from her businesslike bun, and she was twirling it absently around a finger; the Claddagh ring gleamed in the light. She looked so beautiful - so vulnerable - and in a blinding flash he understood the real gift that Duncan had given Natalie. The gift that Duncan had given Natalie didn't need to know what Duncan truly was. In the most important way, he had loved her more than Nick did. Duncan had left her without bringing her into a world she couldn't ever be a part of, and that could only hurt her. Duncan cared about Natalie enough to try and protect her. He had given her up. Which was something Nick couldn't bring himself to do. The End