This is for my good friend and Lost Twin Mary Jenkins, without her I would

never have found the courage to post anything. Her wonderful title graces

this work, I was gonna call it.... well never mind, it was pretty dumb!

 

I do not own any of the Forever Knight characters in the following story.

My permission to archive it is granted to Mary Jenkins. I also

authorize this work to be put on the ftp site and the fanfic page.

 

I welcome any constructive kindly worded criticism at DarkPNinja@aol.com, but

please remember that I have a very tiny ego and am easily frightened back into

my lurker hidey hole! 

 

Without further adieu, I humbly present "Forget Me Not"

 

Forget Me Not

Renee Miller

Part I

 

It was now several months since Vachon had 'gone away.' More and more

often Tracy found herself thinking back and it irritated her that she had

problems remembering any details of their good-bye. She was starting to

wonder if there had even been one. 'I must be working too hard.' She

thought to herself as she rubbed her temples in an attempt to ward off a

headache.

 

Nick, true to form, had vanished leaving her with the paperwork. "Thanks

a lot Partner!" She sarcastically announced in the general direction of

his empty desk.

 

Captain Joe Reese gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Vetter, go on

get out of here," he looked concerned, "It's way past your quittin'

time."

 

Noticing her hesitation he added, "I see Knight didn't waste any time

taking off."

 

That did it, "Yeah, I'm gone." Tracy stood and pulled her purse out from

under her desk. The sudden movement along with a lack of food caused her

head to spin for a moment. She held on to the desk shaking her head and

blinking.

 

Reese took note of her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes,

"Tracy," His voice was parental in tone, "Why don't you get out a bit, do

something nice for yourself. Kick back a little, it'll do you some good."

 

"Yeah, sure. Thanks Cap, I'll think about it." She smiled at him.

 

"No, Tracy that's not advice, that's an order. You have some vacation time

left and I want you to use a couple of days starting tomorrow. Is that

clear?" He waited for her answer.

 

"Yes, Sir." She weakly replied.

 

"Good, we'll see you in a couple of days then." Satisfied, Reese headed

back to his office.

 

When his back was turned she grabbed the pile of unfinished paperwork still

sitting on her desk and dumped it unceremoniously onto Nick's immaculate

one, "There ya go buddy, right back at ya!" Slightly happier, she headed

out the door.

 

Twenty minutes later, in her car, Tracy clutched a steaming cup of

cappuccino with one hand while steering with the other. Upon leaving the

coffee shop she did not head home as she had originally intended but,

rather, found herself headed toward the spot where Screed was buried.

 

As she got closer she felt her head began to pound. 'Great another

headache.' She had been getting them frequently since Vachon left. This

was going to be a bad one she could tell already. It started in her

forehead, quickly spread to her temples, then to the back of her head.

 

She parked and closed her eyes holding the warm cup on her forehead.

 

Something ran through her mind,  'Shit! What was

that?' She thought.

 

Suddenly she felt nauseated and dizzy. Her head was much worse now, the

pounding almost unbearable. She felt far too ill to stay any longer.

 

As soon as she started the car and pulled away she began to feel better.

She was now wondering why she had even come here in the first place. Some

stupid idea that she would feel closer to Vachon somehow.

 

She arrived home headache almost gone but feeling exhausted. There was a

note taped to her door, 'Tracy Dear, I noticed that you have been home

alone an awful lot lately. We would love to have you at our weekly bingo

game at the center. We'll talk tomorrow.' It was signed by one of the

well meaning 'mature' ladies of her apartment complex. "Great!" Tracy

rolled her eyes and wadded up the note. She walked into her apartment and

without even removing her clothes fell into bed and slept.

 

When she woke it was early evening. Her headache was gone but she was once

again troubled by memories of her dreams. The recurring dreams had started

around the same time that the headaches had. Vachon was always in it but,

someone else too. It was hard to remember, yet she was constantly haunted

by the memory of a pair of pale blue eyes and a voice like velvet. She was

always left with conflicting emotions afterward. Feelings of deep sadness

coupled with something else that she couldn't exactly put her finger on.

 

She checked the messages on her machine, "Hi Button, it's Daddy. I heard

you're off and thought you might like to come by and sit in on my bridge

game tonight. I'll call later to confirm."

 

She walked to her bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror, "I have got

to get out." She said to her own reflection.

 

An hour and a half later she stared at a vastly different reflection. Her

hair was up, pulled into a sleek French twist. Sparkling earrings dangled

from her earlobes. She had chosen a dress that she never had the

opportunity to wear. She purchased it on a whim when Vachon had still been

around. This dress was created to turn heads, tight, short and black it

was sleeveless with tiny sparkling straps to hold it up. She wore sheer

black stockings and a pair of pumps with very high heels.

 

Calls placed to various friends had not turned up anyone to go out with.

It seemed that most people did need a bit of advance notice. Especially

when the person doing the asking out had not been in contact for a long

time. 'Oh, well,' Tracy thought 'I'll go alone.'

 

The question was where? Even before Tracy had started working nights, and

gotten involved with Vachon, she had not done much 'going out'. When she

had it was with a group. Going out alone was a new experience for her and

not one she was particularly looking forward to. She was greatly tempted

to just stay home with the gallon of ice cream that was sitting in her

freezer.

 

"No!" She stamped her foot, "I will not sit here again, not tonight." She

grabbed her purse and keys and headed out the door.

 

 

End Part 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forget Me Not

Part II

 

"And so gentle listeners, I bid you good night. I am as always, The

Nightcrawler." LaCroix looked up from his panel and signaled to Miklos

that it was now all right for him to speak.

 

Miklos appeared uncomfortable and at a loss for words.

 

"Come now Miklos," LaCroix leaned back in his chair and studied him, "If it

was important enough that you felt you needed to come in during my set to

tell me it must be something that I need to know."

 

"Nick's partner is here." Miklos blurted out.

 

"And..." LaCroix encouraged.

 

"Well, she's... It's just that at first it was fine she sat at the bar and

ordered some drinks. Then she started asking me questions about the

Spaniard and Urs, which was still not too bad I was able to convince her

that I didn't know anything about their whereabouts, but she has attracted

a lot of attention and the ah, situation, is not good at the moment."

Miklos looked as though he wished he were anywhere but here.

 

"What type of attention Miklos?" LaCroix dryly asked.

 

"Let's just say that Miss Vetter isn't dressed the way she normally is and

her 'new look' has gained her a set of admirers." This said Miklos waited

for his instructions.

 

"I will handle this personally, Miklos. Thank you for notifying me."

LaCroix nodded his dismissal.

 

Tracy Vetter. LaCroix remembered the night Nicholas had asked him to

'ease' her pain over the loss of the Spaniard, Vachon. At first he had

observed her to see what she would do, how she would handle herself. She

had impressed him, impressed him greatly. Her courage, her strength, her

beauty.

 

She had taken Vachon to a lonely spot by the water and dug the grave

herself. She then dragged his body out of her car and managed to get it

into the hole. She covered him with dirt and then, only then, did she

allow the tears to flow. LaCroix had given her this time. He could not

bring himself to interfere with this, her goodbye. Everyone deserved

someone to mourn for them even if only for a short time. After what he

considered to be a respectable period he approached her.

 

She had been difficult, even now LaCroix's own mind ached with the memory

of all it had taken to achieve the results Nicholas had asked for. He had

planted in her mind only the memory that Vachon had 'gone away', that it

had been time for him to move on. He had needed all of his abilities that

night. He sensed that her appearance here tonight, along with the

questions she had been asking, meant that all of his abilities had not been

enough. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. For some reason he

felt, protective of the girl. He remembered her delicate face and body and

the strength of spirit that was concealed behind them. 'Yes, I will most

definitely handle this personally.' He stood and made his way toward the

door.

 

Initially LaCroix could not see her in the crowded club. He was about to

scan for her heartbeat when he caught a glimpse of the top of her golden

head. She was surrounded by several admiring vampires each vying for her

attention.

 

LaCroix made his way toward her the crowds parting as he walked. Four of

the five vampires that were courting Tracy sensed his imminent arrival and

wisely slid back and blended into the crowd. The one that was left was

older and not as easily intimidated. LaCroix recognized this one,

Phillippe a French Vampire who was five or six hundred years old. His dark

good looks had probably reminded the girl of her missing Spaniard. LaCroix

smiled, he had never cared for Phillippe and would enjoy teaching him a

lesson.

 

Unaware of what was bearing down on him, Phillippe continued to stare into

the pale blue eyes of the enchanting mortal before him. 'Mon Dieu, she is

fabulous!' he thought. 'This one, yes, this one might just be worth taking

my time with.' He would make her last. Perhaps a few nights, perhaps

longer. Who could tell?

 

Suddenly a hand came down heavily on his shoulder and closed with a

crushing grip. It would have broken the bones of a mortal, but Phillippe

Mardone was no mortal. He smirked and turned toward his antagonist.

 

Being several inches shorter, Phillippe had to look up to see his face.

He stared into the eyes of death. For the first time in hundreds of years

he felt fear. "Monsieur LaCroix," he stammered, "I was..."

 

LaCroix spoke softly and deliberately in perfectly accented French, "This

one is under my protection now, you were perhaps ignorant of that fact?"

 

"Oui, Oui...," Phillippe's eyes were darting around the room in search of

an escape route, "I assumed that, considering the circumstances, she was

now available."

 

"You assumed incorrectly." LaCroix's face was very close to the

Frenchman's, "I believe you were just leaving."

 

Phillippe shook his head in agreement "Oui, leaving."

 

"The city." LaCroix finished for him.

 

For a moment Phillippe considered protesting, then looked again into those

icy eyes. "Oui, the city."

 

"Au revoir, Phillippe." LaCroix stepped aside and the younger vampire fled

never looking back.

 

LaCroix watched him go for a moment, then the corners of his mouth slowly

lifted in a smile and the club patrons who had been attentively watching

the scene resumed their activities. LaCroix now turned to the girl.

 

Tracy stood, hands on hips enraged. "Just who the hell do you think you

are? How dare you cut in that way? I don't recall asking for your

assistance." Suddenly she stopped and stared. Recognition slowly filled

her face, "Wait, I know you, you were there..." Her hand went to her

forehead for a moment then she looked at him again and softly said, "You're

in my dreams."

 

LaCroix held his hand out to her and softly said, "Come my dear, we need to

talk."

 

Tracy was dizzy from the wine she had consumed and her head was starting to

hurt again. Things were coming back,  "No!"

She closed her eyes to try and stop the pain and dizziness. She was weak

and confused. Suddenly she felt herself being picked up. She opened her

eyes and found herself in LaCroix's arms. "Please, help me." she

whispered and then passed out.

 

LaCroix paused for a moment and stared down at her beautiful face. "Yes,

dear Tracy, I will."

 

With Tracy cradled protectively in his arms LaCroix left the Raven and took

to the air.

 

End Part 2

 

 

 

 

 

Forget Me Not

Part III

 

LaCroix stood near Vachon's grave still holding her in his arms. Tracy

remained unconscious though he sensed she would soon wake. He would return

her memories. It was all he could do for her. If she continued this way

all that was left for her was madness and he would not allow that. As the

young woman struggled back to consciousness, he continued to hold her upper

body close while he gently lowered her feet to the ground so that she would

be standing when she woke.

 

The pounding in her head brought Tracy back. She blinked in confusion and

looked around. "How, what...?" she stammered.

 

"You are safe my dear, "LaCroix began gently, "I'm going to help you."

 

The sound of his voice was soothing and hypnotic. The feel of his arms

around her, strangely comforting. As he talked the pain in her head

gradually lessened until it vanished completely, but as that pain ceased

her heart began to break. He replaced what he had taken from her, holding

her close all the while. When he finished, she was sobbing into his

shoulder. He stroked her hair and waited.

 

Finally she struggled out of his embrace. Stepping back she glared up at

him, her eyes bright with tears and anger.

 

"How dare you!" She spat out, "You had no right to interfere. I have

proven myself loyal to the community. I wasn't a threat!"

 

LaCroix paused, choosing his words carefully, "It was thought that

replacing your memories with a kinder version would make it easier for you.

No malice was ever intended." Noticing the tears that still ran down her

cheeks he reached into a pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief,

offering it to her.

 

After a moments hesitation she took it and mumbled a half hearted 'thank

you'.

 

LaCroix gently continued, "It was not meant to be a punishment, we...I,

thought it was for the best." He moved forward to stand closer to her,

"Unfortunately, you are far too strong a resistor and even my best effort

was for naught. Your mind fought constantly against the false memories I

planted causing the discomfort you have been experiencing. The closer you

came to fully remembering, the greater your pain became. For this I

apologize, I only meant to alleviate your pain, not enhance it." He waited

for her reaction.

 

Tracy was silent for a moment then turned and walked to Vachon's grave.

She stood over it staring down. Her hair, which had long since come loose

from the pins, fell like a curtain concealing her face.

 

As he had on that night months ago, LaCroix simply watched her; the full

moon shone down and lit her hair so that it glowed. She was a golden

vision. There were no tears as she said her silent farewell. After a long

time she took a deep breath and looked up at the stars. For a time she

said nothing; then finally she turned to him.

 

"I'd like to go home now." She stated matter-of-factly, then sarcastically

added, "I don't suppose my purse or my car are anywhere near here?"

 

"I'm afraid not. I brought you here by a *different* means. No matter,

though, I will have your automobile and your things returned to you by

morning." She thought she detected a barely concealed smile.

 

"Fine," she snapped "The walk will do me some good." She turned and began

the long trek home.

 

'Stubborn woman', LaCroix thought with a smile as he swept her off her feet

and into his arms.

 

"Dammit!" Tracy shrieked, "Stop it!" When she noticed the earth falling

away below them she added, "Oh shit!"

 

"Relax my sweet." He held her tightly, enjoying the feel of her body

pressed so closely to his own. "I have you."

 

If she replied, it was lost to the winds .

 

 

End part 3

 

 

 

 

Forget Me Not

Part IV

 

Since her keys had been left at the Raven, along with her purse and car,

they entered her apartment through the window she always left unlocked in

case Vachon decided to pay her a visit. 'I guess I can start locking it

again." Tracy thought sadly.

 

She moved around the apartment turning on lights while LaCroix silently

waited. This completed, she walked back to the window and stared out at

the night sky. Tracy broke their uneasy silence when she asked suddenly,

"What happens now?"

 

"That, my dear, would depend entirely upon you and your actions." Was

LaCroix's carefully worded answer.

 

Tracy gave a long sigh and asked, "Just tell me, am I in danger from the

'community' now?"

 

Her directness impressed him, "As long as the knowledge you possess remains

yours alone, you have nothing to fear."

 

She nodded her head in understanding softly murmuring, "It's not like I

have anyone to talk to anyway." Her next question caught him off guard,

"Did 'you' know him well?"

 

He paused in thoughtful consideration, "No," he answered truthfully, "I

knew him but not well." Through the reflection in the glass of the window

LaCroix could clearly see that her face was full of pain, loneliness and

confusion.

 

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, "There are so many things I

left unsaid, things I should have asked him... should have told him. I

just... I always thought that there was so much time. I don't know if he

even cared about me. I guess it doesn't really matter anymore, now I'll

never know." She stared down at the floor.

 

Ordinarily regretful laments merely irritated LaCroix but, upon hearing her

poignant words, something deep within him stirred. The loss she was

suffering and her feelings of remorse reminded him of the one he had left

behind. 'Did she suffer thus?' He wondered. 'Did she cry alone at night

with no one to listen, did she too wonder if I had 'even cared'?' LaCroix

trusted Nicholas to ease her pain, much as Nicholas entrusted LaCroix with

Tracy's. What if Nicholas had failed? The pain he was seeing before him

now was what 'she' would have gone through. He found himself drawn to

Tracy's side. Startled, but not fearful, she turned and looked into his

face searching.

 

Emotion filling his voice he stared into her eyes and said, "He cared

Tracy, of that much I am certain." Passions which had lain dormant for

hundreds of years overtook him as he looked into those beautiful eyes. "How

could he not have?" He cupped her face in his hands, leaned forward and

gently kissed her lips.

 

Tracy was shocked by her reaction to the kiss. A million tiny butterflies

seemed to flutter in her stomach. As though her hands had a mind of their

own, she felt them reach up to pull LaCroix closer. When he slowly pulled

away a soft sigh escaped her, then immediately she was filled with guilt.

'My God, what am I doing?' she thought.

 

At the same time LaCroix suffered from his own confusion. Why 'had' he

kissed her? She was beautiful yes, but there was something more..., why

did this particular mortal bring long buried feelings and memories back to

life? What was it about her?

 

Shame now washing over her, Tracy felt compelled to defend her feelings for

Vachon, "I loved him." She softly whispered, her voice breaking.

 

"I know." Was his simple reply. He sensed her confusion. She 'had'

cared deeply for the Spaniard, he knew that. He also knew that it was far

too soon for her and, he had his own demons to battle.

 

They stared at each other for a moment each lost in their own thoughts,

their own emotions. Finally LaCroix glanced out the window, "It will soon

be dawn, I must leave." He raised the window and turned to her. His face

was unreadable as he softly said, "Farewell sweet Tracy." Sensing the

maelstrom of emotions she was experiencing he reached out with one hand and

gently stroked her face, "If it is meant to be, we will meet again." With

that he was gone.

 

Tracy closed the window and moved her hand to the lock starting to turn it,

then paused and thoughtfully raised her fingers to her lips. She stared

out at the last remaining stars. After a moment she lowered her hand then

turned and walked away.

 

Ren

Gently worded comments are gladly accepted at DarkPNinja@aol.com

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