============================ As Time Goes By By Nancy Kaminski (c) December 31, 2001 ============================ The footfall behind Nick Knight was more felt than heard. Without turning, he said, "I thought you might find me." The pale light of a January full moon illuminated Lucien Lacroix's icy features. "How could I not on this night of all nights?" The two men fell into step on the path, two darker shadows amid those thrown by the bare trees. "What brings you here? I thought you were in Toronto." Nick shrugged. "I wanted to get away." They walked in silence for a moment. "And I suppose I wanted to see you." "Why?" The bitter question hung on the air. The animosity between them was long-standing, almost legend, and though it had been waning in recent years it still defined their relationship. Nick shrugged again. "I don't know. Perhaps it's the events of the past year." He smiled crookedly. " 'It doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.'," he quoted. "Perhaps I'm gaining perspective." Lacroix chuckled softly. "Are you casting me in the role of Ilsa?" he asked, amused. "Hardly. Major Strasser, perhaps, although I can't see you singing 'Wacht am Rhein' in a nightclub." "I would have been more efficient than he --- the Laszlos would never have left Casablanca, and Rick would have ended up in jail." "Undoubtedly. For the sake of cinematic history, then, I'll be thankful you didn't write the script." They walked along the path in companionable silence. The air was cold and the brisk wind rattled in the bare tree branches. The always- present noise of the city seemed somehow hushed on this New Year's Eve, as if the city was holding its breath in anticipation of some momentous event. As the path turned lower Manhattan came into view. The two men halted and gazed somberly at the skyline and the gap now there. Nick felt a pang of sorrow and turned to his companion to see a look of disgust on his face. "What, Lacroix, are you actually regretting the loss of human life?" he asked mockingly. "Stupidity. I hate stupidity and uselessness." "How so?" "They achieved nothing but their own destruction. Tactically and strategically it was a pointless, stupid act." "Ever the pragmatic general." Nick turned away from the sight. "Let's walk." They turned down another path and continued on. Presently, Lacroix asked again, "So why did you want to see me?" Nick shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked steadily at his master's face then dropped his eyes. "To say thanks." Lacroix stopped and stared. "Thanks? For what? Centuries of the misery you tell me I've caused you?" Nick turned away to examine the full moon, as if his reasons were written on its face. "Like I said, perhaps I'm gaining perspective. I find myself being thankful to you for the gift of time." "I am astonished, Nicholas. Could it be that what I've told you for eight hundred years has finally sunk in?" Lacroix asked sardonically as he resumed walking. "The new year has brought wonders indeed." The younger man followed slowly. When he caught up, he said, "It struck me a while ago that I've become more than I could have ever wished for as a mortal. I don't mean the bad things, those I shall never cease to regret and despise --- I mean that I found an appreciation for things I didn't know existed back then. Art and music. Philosophy. The beauty of the world. They were all closed books to me. You gave them to me, you allowed me to learn and to discover that I had more to offer the world than my sword arm and that there was more in the world than fighting and mere survival." "It's true that you were little more than a barbarian when I found you, Nicholas. You knew your letters, yes, but little else." Lacroix said with a reminiscent smile. "I did see something more in you than even Janette did. Although," he added, "I confess I could understand her attraction as well." "Despite everything, I find that I'm glad you did," Nick said simply. "Thank you." Lacroix clasped his hands behind him. "You're welcome, Nicholas," he said quietly. "I do not have a gift for you today, even though it is your Conversion Day. I know you never wanted to be reminded of that New Year's Eve so long ago, and I have respected your wishes. And now you have given me a gift that I never expected to receive." Nick shook his head. "There's no need, Lacroix. I have almost everything I want, and the other, well, you can't give me that anyway." Lacroix nodded. "True. I don't know that I would were it in my power." They came to a gate. Beyond it the unceasing city traffic snarled its urban song. "Will you go to Times Square and partake of the midnight festivities?" Nick shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I'm in a solitary mood tonight. I think I'll just walk some more. I haven't seen Central Park for quite a while." "Very well. You know where I am if you desire company or need someplace to stay." He touched Nick on the shoulder lightly. "Mon fils." Nick put his hand on Lacroix's and squeezed lightly. "Mon pere." He smiled slightly. "Thanks again, Lucien. Happy New Year." "It is now," Lacroix answered, and was gone. FIN