This is Night Shift fic. I don't know why in the -world- I'm writing Night
Shift fic. Although, I'm
going to blame it on Mary. One way or another it's Mary's fault *wink*.  
	Anyways,  this is post LK but of course things went differently (no one
dies - no one
EVER dies).  But they have gone  their mostly separate ways.  We're moving
to the States briefly
- to Buffalo because frankly I know that city to well to use another (nudge
nudge) 

	DISCLAIMER : I don't own them - some mean people do. I don't get any money
for this - 
I do it for the sheer pleasure of  it.  So don't sue me - I can assure you
I've got nothing you want.

	Only Human on the Inside
	(01/??)

	by, carly

	Twenty-eight years  old. Where, oh  where, does the time go?
	Tracy laughed at herself and her reflection.   Shaking her head, she
walked out of  the
bathroom stretching her arms above her head.   The phone was ringing, but
she was in a far to
pensive mood to even hear it.  
	Until the answering machine clicked on.  "Hi, you've reached Tracy. I'm
either in bed or
incommun -- *laughs* Just kidding.  You know what to do." 
	BEEP.
	"Oh, that's -very- funny, Trace. Are you coming today, or what? It's been
so long since I
last saw you, please come. You were supposed to RSVP two weeks ago.  You
know you're the
only person in the world I'd wait that long for. Ha ha ha."
	Tracy laughed. "But if I were a really old blond MAN you'd wait forever."
She yelled at
the machine. She shook her head.  "I'll be there."
	"So if you're coming call me as soon as possible. See ya."
	Tracy looked at the clock. It was almost eleven. Nat's shower started at
two. Tracy
stretched again. She'd get ready in a little while. She settled down on the
couch, turning on the TV
and realized that she could just about die for some coffee. But she was
already sitting down. 
	Damn. 
	"Honey, make me some coffee." She commanded the empty room. When the universe
didn't comply with her demand she added,   "No hurry."
	"Next up on F! Entertainment television we've got a tour of celebrity
homes.  Don't miss
as we get an exclusive look famous artists' Nicholas Ritter's fabulous
mansion in Montpelier,
Vermont. The secretive painter/sculptor has finally come out of his shell
much to the delight of 
the female population of  Earth. That's all up next."
	Tracy stared at the television with wide eyes. Nicholas Ritter? Is that
what he called
himself these days? She stared at the images of  him flashing across the
screen.  Then, in the
recessed of her chest she felt a familiar twinge.  Not quite sadness, not
quite regret. She'd never
been able to come up with a word to describe it.
	But she had the sudden urge to be -anywhere- but right there.

	Natalie lived north of the city, in a suburban housing development so
refined and flat out
snobbish, Tracy could barely bring herself to ever go there. But as she
drove around the aimlessly
winding streets that never seemed to go -anywhere- she found herself
looking at those houses
with just a bit of jealousy. Natalie'd managed to move on. Why was is so
easy for her?
	There it was. Number 1228 Summerset Lane.  Tracy always got a kick out of
that. Natalie
said she picked it solely for that reason. She said it was fate allowing
her to laugh at herself. 
Whatever the reason, the house was simply stunning.   It was a two level
house, in a wide open
style that even when you were inside you felt like you were out in the
middle of nowhere.
	Natalie had developed a thing for white.  Her entire house was decorated
in furiously
bright colors, so pale and light that it looked like ray's of sunlight
exploded inside. Tracy loved
Natalie's house. It was a testament to how far people can come in a short
time.
	How some people can save themselves in just a few short years.
	Tracy got out of her car and waited on the steps for the door to open. And
when it did,
Tracy almost couldn't believe what she saw.
	Natalie, so swollen with child she looked ready to burst, looking so
brilliantly happy and
exuberant that Tracy couldn't breathe.  " . . . Natalie . . . "
	'Tracy! Oh my god! It's good to see you!" She threw her arms around
Tracy's neck, having
to bend over to try and avoid pushing her further away with her stomach.  
	Tracy smiled and accepted the hug eagerly. 
	Natalie.  
	"Natalie, my lord.  Doesn't your husband keep pins around here somewhere?
You need to
be popped."
	Natalie laughed.  "Tell me about it." She ran her hands down her belly.
"One more week."
She sighed.
	"Why'd you wait so long to have a baby shower?"
	"Roman was out of  town for a while and I wanted him to be here for it."
	Tracy was looking around the room. "What time is it?"
	"Just about one." Natalie eyed her friend.  "How are you? How is John?"
	Tracy laughed humorlessly.  "Dying a painful death if there's any justice
in the world." She
winked at Nat.  Wanting to change the subject and lighten the mood between
them she mustered
up the best smile she could.  "Have you decided on names yet?"
	Nat threw up her hands, and laughed.  "Oh god.  Don't get me started.
We've agreed on a
boy's name, should it be a boy. But we will argue till doomsday over a
girls' name."
	Tracy followed Natalie into her pale pink and white kitchen, where a maid
and cook were
almost dancing around the island at the center of the room trying to
prepare all the food. Natalie
waddled up to  stool and pulled herself carefully onto it.   "Well it's a
good thing there's only a
week left then, eh? What names did you narrow it down too?"
	"Well Richard for a boy, obviously."
	"Of course.  Richard Cross.  Good name."
	"But Roman wants to name a girl after his grandmother. She raised him
after his parents
were killed and when she died she replaced god for him." Natalie said
dramatically, using her
hands a lot more than Tracy remembered. 
	Tracy made a sympathetic sound. "Well that's sweet, though Nat. What was
her name?"
	"Theodosia." Natalie said with blatant disapproval.
	"Thank you." Tracy said to the maid as she laid out a cup of coffee before
her.  "Oh dear.
I think I see your point."
	"You know." Natalie said behind the carrot she was chewing on. "I want
something
simple.  Tracy. Tracy is a pretty name - simple, not ridiculous."
	"And doomed to be called 'cute' all her life. Don't do that to my
goddaughter." Tracy
laughed. "Or godson for that matter."
	Natalie smiled. "It is so good to see you, Tracy.  You look a little thin,
a little tired."
Natalie said, in a very unorganized, very maternal sentence.
	Tracy laughed.  "I know. I'm sorry. I work long hours and driving twenty
minutes up here
just doesn't fit sometimes. I'm sorry about that."
	Natalie was nodding slowly.  "Yeah, you work too much just like always.
How do you
like that job anyway?"
	Tracy perked up. "Oh, I love it.  Who'd of thought, you know?  But I enjoy
it.  The only
people I ever got to work with in Toronto were dead, you know."
	Natalie smiled and nodded quickly. "Um, yeah, I know."
	Tracy tried not to laugh, but it came out anyway.  "Well now, I see live
people. I like that.
Do you miss work?"
	Natalie shrugged.  "Yeah, sometimes. I miss the pace, you know?" She
snapped her
fingers a few times in rapid succession for effect.  "But then again, when
I'm lying - on my back -
in bed, I sometimes have these dreams of all my patients sitting up and
sucking dry the Red Cross
stash and I remember why I ran from that place."  She sliced her arm threw
the air off  toward no
where.  "But now. No. I think I'm going to like being a mom. And if I get
bored I'll start up a
bridge club or something." She laughed.
	"A knitting circle."
	Both women burst out laughing. Tracy shaking so hard she began spilling
coffee on
Natalie's white tiled countertop. "Oh! I'm sorry."
	"Oh *plb* don't worry about it.  Sarah, could you hand me a rag?"
	As Natalie mopped up the Irish Cream flavored coffee she eyed Tracy. "Did
you happen
to catch that episode of  Celebrity Homes on F! today?"
	Tracy let out an explosion of breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"Oh thank you. I
wanted to 
talk about it, but didn't want to say anything."
	Natalie rolled her eyes.  "Please. That was ancient history, as far as I'm
concerned." She
took Tracy's hand. "It's over. It's done. Now is the time we can look back
and laugh, just like we
said we would." She shifted on her stool to throw the rag back into the
sink.  It landed with a
hollow 'thud'.  Tracy stared at it.  "Anyway, did you -see- the episode? I
think the old brick has
finally cracked."
	Tracy's attention snapped back to Natalie. "What do you mean?"
	"Mm. You should see his house! The whole thing is decorated in a sun
motif. I'm not
kidding" She added when she saw Tracy shaking her head.  "Seriously.
Everything is done up in
gold, or obnoxiously bright yellow. Tracy, there's  a  hug painting of  the
sun right in the foyer
when you come in the front door. It takes up the entire wall and it's the
ugliest damn thing he's
ever painted. He's losing it."
	Tracy listened, interested.  "What is up with that? He didn't fall back in
with that cult did
he?"
	"I don't know. But there's something with him."
	"Have you seen any of them?"
	Natalie was shaking her head.  "Well, that's not really true. I saw
Janette about a month
ago. She was shopping in Niagara Falls for furniture. Of course she shows
up at the once place
that had the crib I wanted."
	"Did she say anything to you?"
	"No, but she did stare for a moment." Natalie suddenly laughed.  "Listen
to us. Have we
become old biddies or what?"
	Tracy's laugh echoed for a moment.  "I know.  I haven't even thought about
them in the
longest time. Until I saw that his paintings are coming here in a special
exhibition next month. 
Tracy held up her hands like
 a banner.  "Nicholas Ritter -- the Exquisite Time collection."
	"Oh god.  Hey, would you help me hang the sign outside? A lot of my
friends still have
trouble finding my house."
	"I'm not surprised. This whole place is like a labyrinth."
	"I know." Natalie dimpled. "That's why I chose it."


	end part one.  the calm before the storm, people!


	flames, trains and automobiles  can be sent here  :
bush1996@oak.ait.fredonia.edu


From: Lore8132 

*disclaimers in part one*

	Only Human on the Inside (02/??)
	by, Carly

	"What time is it?"
	"Six-thirty."
	"Is the sun down yet?"
	"No, it's just about to set." Nick looked over his shoulder at the other
vampire walking out
of his bedroom, stratching his head.  "Hard day?"
	"I can't sleep for shit." Vachon said.  "I'm going to go bed shopping
today.  The one you
gave me is crap."
	"Oh, I'm very sorry. You didn't exactly give me notice for your little
visit."
	Vachon blinked at him.  After a few beats he said,  "Are you really going
to stay here?"
	"What's wrong with here?"
	"Well, Nick, LOOK at this place.  I mean really look." Vachon walked down
the stairs and
spread his arms indicating the painting on the ground floor.  "Nick, what
the hell is this?"
	Nick walked down the stairs slowly, trying not to saunter.   He stopped a
few paces
behind Vachon so he could look a the entire painting. It really was ugly.
	Vachon turned to stare at him. "Well?"
	"I didn't paint it."
	"Well, where'd it come from?"
	Nick shrugged. "From whoever owned this house before."
	"Why this place anyway, Nick? I mean you're usually a pretty private guy."
	Nick shrugged again. "I feel like being famous for a turn, that's all. I
feel like selling my
paintings. I feel like --"
	"Getting her attention." Vachon whispered.  It was almost a hiss.
	Nick flinched, but didn't let Vachon see it.  Was that why he did this?
	Who could tell.
	But one thing was absolutely sure -- this painting was incredibly ugly.

*		*		*

	Tracy sat through the bizarre, if not disgusting baby shower games, with a
forced smile. 
But the walls were closing in on her, and her loose fitting  clothing was
starting to feel like a vice. 
If she didn't get out of here soon, she was going to scream.
	Her eyes focused on Natalie for a minute.  She was laughing and clapping
as they played
their game, not thinking of anything in the world aside from the child
inside her.  Tracy stared, her
eyes trailing down Natalie's profile to her jaw,  then further down.
	Tracy blinked, as a faint blue line slowly appeared on Nat's long throat.
 It started behind
her ear, sloping downward, gently turning to disappear under the neckline
of her clothes.   It was
an odd shade of blue, hovering somewhere between light and dark.  And as
she stared, though it
may have been her own eyes playing tricks on her, it began to throb.
	Tracy's eyes snapped away from Natalie and she stood all in once
terrified, scattered
moment.  All the eyes of the party glared at her, except one.   Natalie's
eyes trailed up at her at a
painfully slow pace -- and when they locked on to Tracy's, a toothy,
hideous grin spread across her
face.
	Tracy's frightened gasp echoed even in the wide open room. 
	Natalie was at her side in one fluid movement, stroking her hair.  "Tracy,
are you all right?"
	Tracy's eyes focused on Natalie slowly. Her breath was ragged until then.
When she
finally recognized Natalie her breath stopped all together.   "Tracy?"
	"Natalie.  .  .  . Natalie, I've got to go."
	Tracy ran from the white, perfect house as fast as she could -- leaving
behind, her purse,
her jacket and even her keys.  All that mattered in that moment was getting
out of that house.
Away from that sight.  
	Tracy just ran.

	It may have been hours until the start of November, but it wasn't snowing
yet.  It really wasn't even
that cold.  Hovering in the higher end of the forties, the air was nothing
if not crisp.  
	Tracy walked faster,  letting her arms drop to her sides.  The almost
biting air was
comforting in a strange way -- as if it would blow these disgustingly
horrible feelings off and out
of her.  What was wrong with her?  What was she doing?
	She stopped walking and looked around.  Where was she going?
	She closed her eyes,  clutching her head in cold almost unnaturally strong
hands.
	Suddenly, her equilibrium was lost.
	She stumbled, tripped, grasping at the thin air.
	Images splashed with dark, dark red  were spinning through her head.  She
was feeling 
dizzy.  She was feeling  numb.
	She opened her eyes, feeling an odd calm come over her. 
	She was feeling ALIVE.

	"Do you see her? Do you? Do you see her?"
	"Natalie, please!"
	Natalie bit her lip,  slamming her hand down on the window's button and
thrust herself out
the window.  "TRACY!! . . .  TRACY . . . WHERE ARE YOU?"
	Roman Cross turned on the brights and squinted.  "What was she wearing?"
	"A black sweater, and a long black and red skirt.  Did you call the cops?"
	"Yes, twice. They should be out looking for her as well."
	"I haven't seen one cop car! Not one! Roman, where are they?"
	He frowned.  "I don't know."
	"It's been hours, Roman. Hours. She'd be freezing."
	He didn't respond.  He knew enough of  Natalie's past to know that the
strange, the weird,
and the disturbed seem to flock to her.  He tried not to smile, not that he
was disturbed.  In fact,
he was the first sane thing to happen to her in over five years.
	She dreamed sometimes - out loud.   Sometimes frightened, sometimes a bit
randy,
sometimes out right unnerving.  But she dreamt out loud.  Lucien, was his
name apparently.  She
said that name a lot, as if it were something you didn't say in polite
company. It reminded him of 
'talking dirty'.
	Right now, though, she was thinking of nothing but this loony ex-cop
friend she held so
close to her.  He glanced  at her expanded waistline.  One more week.
	She let out a loud gasp.  "There!"
	Roman hit the brakes, and silently willed the car to stop.  It had started
to rain.
	Natalie burst from the car like a bullet from a gun and ran as fast as she
could over to her
friend.  
	Her -best- friend.
	Tracy lay on the ground, unconscious.
	Natalie tried to collect her emotions enough to think like a doctor again.
 But her thoughts
unloaded like parfait

	Okay she's breathing
	My god it's freezing out here
	Did Lacroix survive that fight?
	No blood on the ground
	Roman's tires are finished
	When did it start to rain?
	My god I hope my water doesn't break now-- that's all I need
	No bruises, no cuts,  no bumps, no nothing.
	What's wrong Tracy? Tell me.

	Natalie lifted Tracy's head from the ground and cradled in her almost
nonexistent lap.  She
stroked her hair, thinking absently of how long it had gotten since she
last saw her friend.  Her
-best- friend.
	For the last three, almost four years Tracy had been the one part of her
life that wasn't
insane. She wasn't weird, she wasn't  dark, she wasn't  . . . undead.
Tracy was like a rock, Natalie
smiled, excusing her cliché analogy.  She was immovable, solid, and sane --
if rocks could be
called sane.
	Roman was already on his cell phone calling for an ambulance.
	Natalie  smoothed back her own soaking hair from her face.  She closed her
eyes, feeling a
rain getting heavier-- the drops getting bigger.  She was still, she was
calm -- like a doctor should
be.
	Suddenly, she snapped her head down and opened her eyes.  
	The cops had never come.

end part two 

	flames, trains and automobiles can be sent to : Bush1996@oak.ait.fredonia.edu

carly



From: Lore8132 

	disclaimers in part One. The French is translated at the bottom for those
interested.

	Only Human on the Inside (03/??)
	by, carly

	
	Nick dipped both his hands into the paint and dragged them across the
canvas with fury. 
Light -- it NEEDED to be sun light.  Bright and white- blinding and deadly.
	The haunting voices on the stereo seemed to sing louder and with such
bravado it sounded
as if they were crammed into the room with him.  The floor vibrated, the
windows rattled in their
casements, even the walls loved the music - seeming to bend and sway with
the notes.
	 " . . . Quiconque le font a aveuglé? Quiconque le font a aveuglé?
Pouvez-vous vivre avec
vos yeux fermés?  . . . "
	 Nick dragged his hand violently one last time and opened his eyes to see
that the white
paint had been smeared with his own blood.  He withdrew his hands, bringing
them close to his
eyes to see them.  Worn, raw and now bleeding from the skin he'd torn from
them.
	He lifted his eyes to the painting.
	Only one person he'd ever known had eyes like that.
	Only one.

*		*		*

	"I think it's real this time, Javier. I think this time, Lacroix's
diatribe about me is true."
	Vachon simply stared at Nick for several silent moments.  Nick had the
distinct feeling
Vachon was counting his heartbeats.  "Guilt and insanity, you mean."  It
wasn't a question.
	"Am I -that- easily read?"
	"You're Nick.  Angst might as well be your middle name.  You should think
about that
when you move on again.  Nick Fury sounds like a good name."
	Nick was ignoring Vachon. He was right, of course. Then again it was rare
that the sort of
old Spaniard -didn't- say what was exactly on both of their minds.  It
should probably have
worried him, but Nick didn't really care.  He eyed the bloody painting, now
covered and exiled in
it's lonely corner for almost a week.  He wished he knew where either
Janette or Lacroix, should
he be alive, were.  
	He stood, and reached for the bottle that Javier had left behind.  He
breathed in the heady
aroma coming from it and almost swallowed the bottle in his rush to drink
it.   Native American . .
. his favorite.
	Then again, Lacroix would say what he always did.  Nothing new, nothing
different --
nothing that helped in the least.  "Drop the case, Nicholas. Drop the bag
and run."  Janette
probably would have too, only she'd say it with a mouthful of his blood.
Nick licked his lips. He
did miss Janette.
	His eyes trailed over to that painting for the hundredth time that hour.
Of course he
missed Janette, but not as much as some others.
	He grinned angrily to himself. You can't even -think- her name can you?
Coward.  Turn
tail and run, like you're used to.

*		*		*

	Natalie  woke with a jolt when she the heard what she thought was
screaming.  She nearly
slipped out of the incredibly uncomfortable chair she'd been napping in,
but her attention was on
the bed in front of her.
	Tracy, laying still and looking rather callow was lying there with her
eyes open.  They
shifted down to Natalie, who was quickly struggling to stand.  When she
finally gained her
ground, she dropped to her knees and grasped Tracy's hand. "Tracy. Tracy,
hi."  Natalie's smile
was big and bright.  "How are you in there?"
	A weak smile appeared on Tracy's cracked lips.  " . . . Nat . . ."  
	Natalie tried not to wince visible.  Her voice was so raspy, so weak.
"Tracy . . how do
you feel?"
	A surprisingly cheerful laugh came from Tracy.  "Pretty good. A little
empty."
	Natalie nodded.  "You mean numb."
	Tracy nodded.  "What did I say?"
	Natalie shook her head. "Nevermind. It's only important that you're awake
and feeling
okay."
	"You haven't been popped yet, have you."
	"No." Natalie laughed. "I'm afraid not."
	"What day is it?"
	"November seventh."
	Tracy's eyes widened, if only briefly.  "I've been here a week?"
	"Yes, you scared us."
	A nurse knocked on the door then and entered before anyone gave an answer.
She was
carrying a large grey box, covered in blood samples and hypodermic
paraphernalia.  Natalie sat
back in her chair and the nurse leaned over Tracy.  "Oh, you're awake! It's
good to see you Ms.
Vetter."  The nurse straightened, and looked down at Natalie. "I'm going to
go get the doctor.  Is
there any family we should be notifying?"
	Natalie shook her head.  
	"She has no family?"
	"No." Natalie lied.  "None that I know of anyway?"
	Tracy was silently looking at the Nurse's tray, Natalie noticed this and
attempted to keep
the nurse's attention.  "I mean she isn't married or anything." The nurse
nodded. Natalie
continued,  "Can I speak to you out in the hallway?"
	"Sure."
	The nurse followed Natalie out into the stark white, anapestic hallway.
For a brief second
Natalie could smell Toronto after a rainstorm.  Home.
	She blinked.  "Have you been able to tell what's wrong with her?"
	The nurse nodded.  "She's starving.  She hasn't been eating well or enough
-- but--" 
The nurse stopped quickly.
	"What? What is it?  She's not sick, is she?"
	"No, no. Not at all. It's just that you should know that all the tests
didn't reveal why she
was unconscious for so long.  They were totally inconclusive."
	"What should we do?"
	"The doctor will tell you that. But my advice is to have Miss Vetter stay
with you, if at all
possible.  She needs to be watched for a little while."
	Natalie nodded and the nurse went down the hall.  Natalie knew very well
that there was
something the nurse wasn't telling her.  Something she was holding back --
perhaps it was for
Tracy's ears only.  She wished for a moment that she wasn't so pregnant.
She wished she still had
access to her lab -- any lab. She had an intense urge to conduct a few of
her own tests.

*		*		*

	"Aren't you hungry?"
	"It tastes like plastic.  Stale plastic if that's possible." Tracy said,
pushing the tray away. 
"I'd rather be hungry."
	Natalie smiled.  "Well, now that you're up and about I'll have to have
Roman smuggle you
in some fast food."
	"Mmmmm." Tracy said, licking her lips. "Some mocahccinos and hot fries.
Oh, I could die
from some chocolate syrup."
	"Truffles." Natalie said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.
	"Oh god, yes." Tracy laughed.  "We're going to Lady's the second I get out
of here."
	Natalie started to laugh, but it was cut short.  Her eyes opened
impossibly wide and she
slowly looked up at Tracy.
	"Nat?"
	"Oh! Oh my god."
	"Holy shit! You're not popping now, are you?! Oh god!"  Tracy flipped
around in her bed
and slammed her hand repeatedly down on her alarm button.  "Get in here
nurses.  Get in here
nurses."
	Natalie started to laugh despite herself.  "Tracy . . . . Tracy . . " She
laughed breathlessly. 
"They can here you. They're coming."
	Tracy turned and looked at her as the entire nurse's staff flooded into
the room.  Tracy
grinned at them.  "Sorry, it's my first."

end part three

flames, trains and automobiles can be sent to Bush1996@oak.ait.fredonia.edu






From: Lore8132 


	 I changed the title.Thank you,Chrissy Hine.  This one's much better.

	disclaimers in part One	

	
	Only Human on the Inside (04/??)
	by, carly

	Tracy stood in the hallway screaming at the top of  her lungs.  
	No one in the room looked up or even stirred. They all just kept playing
their card games.
	She beat the walls with her fists, she kicked and slashed at the air.
	And no one noticed.
	
	Except one person.   He looked up at her, his face shrouded in shadows
from his corners,
but she could feel his eyes.  Feel them like exploring fingers raking up
and down her body.
	". . . Il a été soutenu complètement. Il est mort.  . . . " He whispered
to her. 
	She froze.  It wasn't dead. It couldn't be dead.

*		*		*

	November 11.  
	It was dead.  Natalie's baby was born dead.  
	My god, I still can't  get my mind off it.  I still can't keep the sound
of Natalie's crying out
of my head.
	God, Natalie . . . I'm so sorry.

*		*		*

	The dreams were getting worse.  Her mind was getting worse. Her ability to
function both
at work and at home was becoming non existent. 
	Was she insane?
	Where was she going?

	Tracy rolled out of bed and paced almost frantically around her apartment.
 She felt wildy awake, and yet her limbs felt too heavy to move.   Her
heart beat abnormally fast - like she was in a constant state of adreniline
rush.  She felt like she'd binged on coffee for days and now her body
didn't need anything else.
	Her head snapped up to the mirror too look into her own hollow,  yet
shining eyes.
	
	 No . . . no.

	 . . . and now her body didn't need anything else . . . 

	Tracy felt cold.

*			*			*

	"Nick.  Nick! NICK!"
	"What?! Why are you screaming like a banshee."
	"You've got to see this.  You abso-fucking-lutely have got to see this."
	Nick stepped over to the television Vachon was hovering over and suddenly
dropped thewine bottle he was holding.  After a few half hearted attempts
at catching it, the sound of shattering glass drowned out the t.v. for a
second.
	Nick laughed to himself. Now the shards are on the floor next to his jaw.
	Vachon was just staring at the t.v., his unblinking eyes wider than usual. 
	 The only thing they heard then, was the voice of the reporter.

	"University of Buffalo's Dean of  History, Professor Roman Cross has filed
suit against the City of  Buffalo Police Department citing negligence and
gross misconduct.  Alledgedly,  Professor Cross's wife had phoned the
police in search of  her best friend when she disappeared from the Cross's
North Tonowanda home early in November.  The police never arrived on the
scene, and only after hours of searching did the Cross' retrieve Vetter.
Ms. Vetter was rushed to Mercy Hospital, where she remains in stable
condition.  However, Professor Cross is saying that a hospital stay  would
not have been neccessary if they would have had help searching for Ms. Vetter.
	"I don't know what has happened to the law enforcement in this city when
upstanding, tax paying citizens can't get their call for help answered."
Professor Cross said today outside city hall.  
	The Police Department had no comment."
	
	Nick and Vachon started at each other.  "I thought he was dead, Nick."


	end part four.


From: Lore8132 

	OK, this is where the story was supposed to go.


	disclaimers in part one.

	Only Human on the Inside (05/??)
		by, carly

	"Nick.  What is today?"
	"Saturday."
	"No, what's the date?"
	"Uh . . . the thirteenth. As of three minutes ago."
	Vachon leaned in the doorway, staring at the large mess Nick was making.
"I'm coming too, you know."
	"I know."
	"And I'm going to stop you from doing the incredibly dumb thing you're
about to do."
	Nick looked over his shoulder at his friend. "Oh, really.  You think you
can stop me?"
	"I can try."
	"Javier, this has nothing to do with you." Nick said turinng fully around.
 "You're my friend, don't make me work against you."
	"And as you're friend I've got to stop you from putting yourself back into
a situation that -I- had to save you from IN THE FIRST PLACE." 
	Nick didn't respond right away.  The young vampire was right of course.
Three years ago  if  this long haired slacker hadn't come to his loft at
just the right time he'd be dead now.  So would Natalie, and Lacroix . . .
well, Lacroix would be the same.  "You're right.  But she's in trouble.
They all are."
	"You don't know that."
	"You saw what he's doing.  You saw what's happening."
	Vachon was silent.  The tense, ridgid moments ticked by.  "She doesn't
need you, Nick.  She never did."
	Nick's body tensed and he froze.  He didn't turn around, but his voice was
terse and burning.  "What would you know about her needs, Javier?  What did
you ever do for her? With her?" Nick inhaled for the low blow. " . . . to
her?  You know nothing about her.  And you'd better leave now.   You're not
welcome in my house anymore."
	Vachon straightened and let his arms drop to his sides. He didn't say
anything else . . .what else could he say.  Nick had hit below the belt --
on purpose.   He felt that familar stab of pain in his chest that always
sprang up whenever he thought of  Tracy.   He'd never acted on his feelings
for her and he would regret that for the rest of his life -- his
neverending life. Long after she was dead,  he would remember that she
looked at Nick with the eyes she used to save for him alone.
	Nick felt the exact moment when Vachon left the house.  He continued to pack.

*			*			*

	"What do you mean you moved her? Who gave you the right!"  Natalie
screamed at the nurse. "Where did you put her?"
	"Mrs. Cross, please relax. Why don't you sit down and just calm down."
	"Fuck you!" Natalie screeched, sending a flurry of paperwork around them.
"You fucking tell me where she is right now!"
	"Natalie, Natalie . . .please.  Calm down."  Roman whispered, his arms
suddenly around her.  "Where is she?"
	The nurse hestitated.  "She's in the Pysch Ward.  Mr. Cross, there's
something   you must know." She pulled him aside out of Natalie's earshot.
"Ms. Vetter suffered a greater trauma than we originally thought. But it's
not a physical trauma -- it's mental.  She's unstable, she's delusional."
	"Can we see her?" He asked through gritted teeth.  
	"I don't think it's a good idea." The doctor interjected.  "Professor
Cross, Ms Vetter is not well. She needs rest, she needs total calm.  She
doesn't need n angry professor and his hysterical wife whirling around her
room."
	"Stick it right up your ass, doctor. My wife has been through far too much
in the last few weeks. I won't allow you to insult her."
	The doctor backed down.  "I'm sorry, Professor Cross.  But you cannot see
Ms.  Vetter."
	"Then when can I . . . I mean, when can we?"  
	"I don't know. We'll notify you."  The doctor turned on her heel and
walked quickly away.  Roman stared after her a moment. Then flinging aside
the nurse's hands he went back to Natalie.  
	"What is it, Roman?  What's happened?"
	"I don't know yet. But they've moved Tracy to the Psych ward.  Apparently
she's  delusional and irratic.  I think they've sedated her -- because they
won't let us see her.  What time is it, sweet?"
	Natalie looked down at her watch, almost dazed and vacant.  She needed
sleep, she needed food.  She needed him.  "Uh . . . .  it's almost five.
I'm starving."
	Roman nodded.  "We'll go and get something to eat, and then we get in to
see Tracy. redgardless of this bitchy doctor."
	Natalie nodded and let Roman led her away.

*			*			*

	This cab driver was driving him insane.  Nick sat in the back of the cab,
his arms crossed tightly in front of  him, trying to ue his powers to shut
the guy up. He stared out the window when he failed a third time.
	Buffalo was  a strange city.  From what the world believed it was a run
down dingy little place. But what he was seeing was nothing like that.  He
could see why Tracy would come here.  
	It was lively without being huge,  comfy without being threadbare.  God,
Tracy where are you?
	His thoughts turned abruptly to Lacroix.  Bastard. How the hell did he
survive another fire?  What was in that man that made him so fucking
invinsible?  Why was he obsessing over this? 
	He and Lacroix had made their peace -- Lacroix didn't want to kill him
that night.  He was simply doing what Nick wanted him to do.   There were
times that he wished  Lacroix would have.  Nick laughed at himself.
Christ, the lord of angst really never lets up.
	The cab stopped suddenly and Nick was snapped out of his haze.  "This is
the Hotel Lennox , sir." The driver said. 
	Nick dropped a hundred dollar bill into his hand and waved him off.  He
stared up at the large building for a second, sighing.  What should he do
now?  Well, one thing was for certain he couldn't waste too much time
finding them. Vachon was no doubt all ready here and he had a headstart.  
	He closed his eyes a minute and tried to feel out some familiar vibes.  Is
anybody out there?

	There wasn't.  Or at least no one who would answer him.  Sighing, he went
in side and let the desk clerk led him to his room.  The place was
decorated in dark wood and dark green velvet.  It was old and the elevator
was rickerty, making him wonder how many more trips it would make before
the cord snapped and sent them flying downwards.
	He chose an apartment style room -- it had a small kitchen, a bathroom, a
sitting room and a large bedroom.  There was laundry service, 24 room
service and being right in the middle of Allentown and downtown Buffalo
he'd easily be able to find what he was looking for.
	From what he gathered from some friends in the precinct she lived on
Elmwood Avenue which was . . . . there, to the left of this hotel. And
through this seventh floor window, he could see a good distance down that
street.  But where was it?

	It was almost morning.  He really should be getting to sleep.

*			*			*

	It was Tracy in that white nightgown.  She was lost in a labyrinth of
whirling corridors and even though he was close enough to touch her, he
didn't.
	God she was beautiful . . . eyes like ice, but a firey personality that he
loved.  Her golden hair, longer than he remembered, tied behind her head.  
	Suddenly, she was talking.
	"Nick . . . Nick, please."
	Before he knew it, she was in his arms.  He was no longer able to deny
himself the simple pleasure of being near her, of holding her.  
	"Tracy, I'm sorry."
	She didn't say anything else, though he was desparate to hear her voice
again.  She was just nuzzling his neck,  grazing her lips against his
flesh.  He tensed for a moment before giving in to it.  Tracy.  Gorgeous
delicious Tracy.
	He could feel the growl in the back of his throat threatening to unleash
itself.  She slid the strap of her nightgown down herself, tipping her head
back.  "Nick . . .there's nothing else that matters."
	"Blood."  He answered, staring at the throbbing veins just under her skin.
Just a bite, his mind was saying, just a taste of the sweetest fruit known
to his kind.  The forbidden kind.
	He clutched his hands around her waist, crushing her to him.  And as he
went for her neck, it was her who growled.  "Nicholas."  Her rough
distorted voice barked at him.  "You're mine to take. Mine to have."
	She thrusted her arms into his chest, driving him backwards.  He was
checked for a moment at her strength.  Then she was leaning over him, her
eyes lit with the fire of his kind.
	"Mine to take. Mine to have."  She growled before closing in on him,
undoing his belt.  "Mine to possess, mine to own."
	Fangs extended from her mouth as she drew back to strike at the one part
of him he still thought of as the most delicate.

	Then, only tearing, searing pain.

*			*			*

	Nick sat straight up in bed, waking to find that the searing pain was
streaming in from the windows he forgot to shut up last night. Knowing it
was a dream, he still checked himself out, hoping not to find a grizzly
pool of blood between his legs.
	It wasn't there, but the pain still was.  He leapt out of bed to close up
and window.  
	Christ, what was that about?
	He wished briefly that he hadn't gotten rid of Vachon so quickly.  He
would probably know exactly where to find Tracy.
	Sitting at the table in the kitchen, Nick resigned himself to making sure
he ate before bed from now on.  Why was he looking for her?  What did he
hope to gain from it?  

	What was it he was expecting from her?

*			*			*
	
	Vachon sat in to alley, covered  in his jacket waiting for the last
moments of daylight to tick out so he could be on his way.
	He was way in over his head this time.  Why didn't he just turn tail and
run like he used to.
	He smiled cruelly to himself.  Because she was so beautiful, that's why.
She was a luscious piece of ass he wanted to sink his teeth into.  She was
the first woman since the start of his immortal life that brought life back
to his predatory reproductive nature.  His jeans strained around him as he
thought of her.  
	That's why he was willing to do this for her.

	Guilt stabbed around his heart as it came to him what he was doing.  He
was a bastard, and he knew that.  He wasn't surprised at himself, only
disappointed.  He loved her.  But not the way Nick did.  Nick's whole being
was enveloped in the pretty blond ex-dectective.  
	Vachon could feel his green eyed monster ready to unleash itself. He was
insaenly jealous of Nick.  To be able to feel that way about anyone was
cause enough. But to feel that way about Tracy, was just  cruel.  Cruel to
Javier Vachon anyway.
	Vachon wanted to love her that way.  He wanted to be the sort of man she
would want, that she would be proud of.  
	But he just wasn't. He just wasn't.  

	True or not, he thought as he closed his eyes,  it was far too late to
stop it.
	But one thing he did know is that if Nick got a hold of her,  things could
get worse.

	Vachon lifted his head and looked at his hands.  They were marked with the
familiar scares the Enforcers gave to all marked men.  Those that they had
contract out on, as it were.  He sighed.  He'd makde the deal -- the deal
with the vampire communities answer to the devil.  
	He closed his eyes and pressed his scarred hands to his face.  He could
feel the rough tortured skin scraping his eyelids.

	I'm sorry Tracy. I'm just not a good man.

*			*			*
	Now, just a long hallway with a million doors.   Having too many choices,
Tracy just sat on the ground to sulk.   Someone better stop that damn
baby's crying.  It was driving her crazy.
	A sudden gust of wind, made her stand and try to run for cover.  It was
-freezing- in here.  
	She ran, and ran, some realizing that this hall didn't end.  
	"Damnit." She yelled to the empty hallway. 
	Then, all of a suddeny the crying stopped and in it's place came laughter.
 Sinister, annoying, deep laughter.  It was -his-.
	She'd seen him in this place before.  Turning to her left, she opened the
same ornate door she'd seen everytime she was here and entered the room
where they all played.
	There was everyone.  Janette stirring her imaginary tea with her table of
stuffed friends. Javier and Screed were forced to be the children whenever
Mommy Urs decided they should play house.  Lucien was always pouting in the
corner because no one would play his way. And Nick . . . 
	Nick never played with them at all.
	Tracy yelled.  "Hey! hey! You kids stop that! You're making a mess!"
	They didn't listen. They -never- listened.
	"Stop it! Listen to me!"
	They didn't respond.  They just kept playing as if she weren't there.
They played forever, not caring if she were there or not.
	"LISTEN TO ME! Don't you hear me! STOP IT! HEY!"
*			*			*

	The patient in room 236 let out a scream so loud, so bloodcurddling that
the nurse and the intern dropped the fresh bedpans on the floor. The
clattering soon stopped, but the screaming didn't.
	"Christ,  that crazy bitch is going to wake up all the loonies around here."
	"Jason, shut up." The nurse scolded.  She opened the door to room 236 and
rushed in.  
	The slender blond in the bed  was trashing around, ripping the bedclothes
and trying to scream. Altough now only horrible, rapsy gasps came out --
she'd screamed herself hoarse in just a few moments. Her screams were unholy.
	"God, what happened to this chick?"  Jason asked as he entered the room to
try and help restrain the women.  
	She let out another scream, this time sending her vocal chords beyond
their breaking point. Her soul sounded like it were split open -- like she
was being torn apart from the inside out.  Jason let go of her and backed
away. 
	"Jason! Jason help me! I can't hold her!"
	The woman began to trash around violently - her limbs whipping around with
such force that they had to repeated duck to avoid getting punched or
kicked.  
	"Fuck . . . she's looks possessed.  You ever see "the Exorsist"?"
	"Jason! Please!"
	Just then the woman sat straight up, opened here eyes and screamed at the
top of her lungs.  "NICK NOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
	She thrust her arms out knocking the nurse back against the wall.  Jason
dove for the alarm button.   "Help me!  Room 236 - the patients getting way
the fuck beyond aggitated! Get in here now!"
	"I KNOW YOU!"
	She was staring at nothing -- she wasn't really awake.  Jason was
practically thrown to the floor when he tried to hold her down.   " Christ
,lady . . . what the hell is going on in there?"
	She collapsed against the mattress then, silent and still.  Her head
flopped sideways so she was facing him.  Her eyes were still open, but
there were not focused on anything. They looked dead, empty.  Jason
couldn't blink.
	Was she alive?
	He was too afraid to go close enough to her to find out.
*			*		*

	Roman ran down the street, dodging peopl as best he could, trying to get
to the store on the corner.  Natalie needed every sort of medicine under
the sun, but wouldn't accept it from the hospital. He laughed to himself as
he narrowly missed knocking over a pair of old ladies.  Pregnant women were
so much fun.
	"Sorry ma'am! Just trying to get to some pepto bismol for my pregnant wife."
	"Better hurry then. Don't keep her wating."  The two women giggled and
went on their way.   
	It was a weirdly warm November, hovering somewhere in the  low fifties
when it was usually snowing by now.  Natalie was over due, and growing more
irritable with each passing day. It couldn't be much longer.
	He was realizing, vaguely, that he was being followed.  He picked up his
pace, noting also that the  crowds of people were diminishing.  He was
damning himself for not just going down the hospital's store and lying to
Natalie.
	There were four . . . no five of them. And they were closing in fast.   
	Five more steps and he'd been inside the store.

	He didn't get there.
	One of the men lounged on him, hauling him to the ground and  striking his
head soundly against the sidewalk.  The next thing he knew he was being
dragged.  Fucking alleys.
	Yes, there was five of them.  With five pairs of hands -- five pairs of
feet.  
	Roman closed his eyes when one growled,  "Sue us will you.  Fuck you Cross."
	Shit, Roman thought. I should have listened to Natalie.
	
	Nick wandered down the street, feeling lost and a little foolish. What was
he doing? It was while he was feeling sorry for himself that he heard the
yelling.
	That sounded like --
	He broke into a run - fully utilizing his supernatural strength to get to
the yelling in split seconds.  He grabbed the shoulder of the man closest
to him and threw him aside.  His head made a nice hollow sound and
it bounced off the brick wall.  To more went flying pas him as he lifted
them as if they were lighter than air.  the last two stumbled and fell as
they scrambled to get away from him.
	Some piece of joy that never faded in his eight hundred years was watching
the mighty run away screaming like little children.  He watched them with a
satisfied smile for a second and then said.  "Five against one. That's
hardly fair."
	"No, no I suppose not."
	Looking down at the man hunched over at his feet Nick held out his arm.
"Where were you going? Can I help you get somewhere?"
	The man looked up.  Nick met his gaze and felt his whole body tense up
impossibly tight.  "Lacroix."
	" . . . Nicholas . . . " Came the exasperated reply.  Once he was
standing, Lacroix stepped back from Nick.  "How did you find me?"
	"I saw you on the news yesterday.  You're suing the police department
story is getting nationwide attention."
	Lacroix nodded numbly.  Nick narrowed his eyes at him.  There was
something off. Something was not right.
	"Lacroix . . . I can't feel you."  He snapped his head up in recognition.
"Why didn't you fight off those men?  Why didn't you us toss them aside."
	Lacroix stared down at Nick, still being the man with the most height.   
	"You're bleeding, Lacroix.  Why aren't you healing up nice and quick?"
	"My name is Roman." He answered.  "And I'll heal as fast as this body will
let me."
	The voice was the same - smooth, calculated . . . infurating.  But this
was not Lacroix.  
	A cold, hard stab knifed through Nick's body.

	God damn you, Lacroix.


end part five



From: Lore8132 


	disclaimers in part one

	Only Human on the Inside (06/??)
		by, carly

	"She's a special creature, Javier.  Bring her back to use in one good
looking piece."
	"Ranon, it's clearly not working.  Why can't we just let this one go?"
	Ranon clicked his tongue.  "Tsk, tsk, Javier.  You know we can't do that.
Even if
the trail run fell through we couldn't just let her be.  It doesn't work
like that. Just bring
her back to us."
	Vachon stood firm.  "I can't."
	"Why?"
	"I can't.  I can't do this to her."
	"What, not again?  Please Vachon don't start giving me this righteous
bullshit. 
You're not a noble man. Don't try now."
	"I won't do it."
	"You will do it."  Ranon growled as several other vampires materialized
out of the
dark alley near them.  Vachon looked at them with grim eyes.  So, it was
going to be pain. 
"Or we'll kill you slowly.  We know you're a coward, Vachon.  We know you
won't go
down that road."
	He was right to some degree, but to play it up, Vachon dropped his head in
mock
resignation.  It was a mistake.
	He didn't see the other leap at him, and he was caught of guard.  Then it
was only
flying fists and scratching claws.  Vachon brought his arms up to try and
fend them off.  
	Ranon sank his blade deep into Vachon's stomach.  He sank slowly to his knees
with Ranon staring down at him. "Bring her to us, Javier.  End of
conversation."

*			*			*

	Vachon knelt by the edge of the bed and looked her over .  Her eyes were
still
open, though they weren't responding to anything.  She looked dead.
	She wasn't.
	He took the bottle out of his jacket and shook it vigorously.  He just
hoped it
worked.  He stood and emptied it into the IV bag next to her.  
	Wake up, Tracy.  You've got to get out of here.  Wake up damnit. We can't
stay
here.  Nick's on his way, and that dumb bastard will only make things
worse.  Vachon
settled into the chair next to her bed and watched the liquid swirling and
mixing with
whatever was already in there.  It had to work.  There was no time left.
	He stared at it lost in thought.  "She's a special creature, Vachon.
Bring her back
to us in one good looking piece."  They said that to him a million times
before he left for
Nick's place in Vermont.  They wanted Nick too, eventually.
	He had to save himself.
	But now, there was more to save then that.  Blackmail was effective
enough, but
it's course had run out. They had to let him go.  They had to let them all
go . . . right?
	He leaned back and closed his eyes.
	Just wake up Tracy, please.

*			*		*

	Tracy's eyes opened slowly.  The room was dark, cold and smelled rather
bizarre. 
Where was she? 
	Her attempt at sitting up was killed quickly when he head began to spin at
light
speed.  "Oh . . . god . . ."
	She gripped her head in her hands and laid back down slowly.   "What is going
on?"  She laughed at herself, which also hurt but she didn't take any
notice of it.  Knowing
that sitting up wasn't a possibility she just rolled over to look out the
window.   It was the
middle of  the night.  
	And it was snowing.
	Tracy smiled, she always did love the snow.  She loved this time of  year.   
	Memories started to flash up before her, but she pushed them away.  It was
time
for being awake and finding out what's been happening.  She wondered
vaguely what day
it was.   Wait . . . 
	 . . . there should be charts at the foot of her bed. Natalie always said
that
everything you needed to know about a patient was in that file.  Tracy
groaned. She really
didn't want to sit up again.  But, it had to be done.
	She moaned loudly, completely unable to  sit up.
	"Here, let me."
	His voice sent shock waves through her.  She gasped, her heart stopping for a
second.  A few moments ticked by as he sat  from his shadowed corner and
leaned over to
pluck the file from the hallway by the door.  Tracy blinked.  She couldn't
believe he was
here.  
	"How are you feeling?"
	" . . . Vachon . . . "
	"Yes, I'm glad you remember."  His eyes narrowed.  "What else do you
remember?"
	She gripped the railing on either side of her bed as hard as she could and
struggled
to pull herself to a sitting position.  When she finally got there she saw
the remote control
on the table beside her.  She slammed her hand down on it and heard the
bed's motor click
into gear.  It was then that half the mattress moved up to meet her.  She
rested against it,
now able to see him fully.  "Why are you here?  How did you find me?"
	"I could find you anywhere." He said quietly.   He leaned in the chair
opposite her,
staring at her.  She felt entirely uncomfortable under his gaze.  It
brought back memories
that she'd rather  leave buried.  "But you brought me here."
	"What do you mean?"
	"You were calling me.  I heard you and I came."
	"I didn't call you. I didn't even know you where around here."
	He shook his head.  "I wasn't." He whispered.  "I was in Vermont --"
	"With Nick." She finished for him.  " . . . how is he?  . . . "
	"Obsessed. Angsting.   Immovable."
	"So he hasn't changed at all."
	"No. " Vachon smiled.  "We usually don't."
	"Usually?"  Tracy asked, raising an eyebrow at him.  "Are you trying to hint
something to me? If so you're failing miserably. I'm not getting it."
	He moved from the wall and stepped closer to her, moving impossibly slow.  No
doubt for her benefit -- so she wouldn't be afraid.  She frowned inwardly.
He -would not-
win her trust.  "Have you been dreaming strange things lately?  Things so
bizarre that they
stay with you always.  Images that don't let go of you."
	"No." She lied.
	"Are you sure?"
	"Quite."  She answered through clenched teeth.
	He nodded once.  "I see. You'd rather talk about something else."
	"I'd rather you leave.  I think we've said all we need to say, hmm?"
	He shook his head once.  "No.  You, Nick and myself haven't said nearly
enough."
	"Ha! I've said all I've ever say to him.  Look, I don't know what's wrong
with me. 
I don't know what day it is, and I don't know how long I've been here. But
I do know that
I am incredibly to tired to be playing these stupid games with you.  Either
tell me what it is
you've come to tell me or fucking leave.  I want to try and sleep.  I'm
exhausted."
	Vachon stood quickly, turning his back to her.  "You really have no
patience, do
you? Always needed to rush to the end. The journey's the real pleasure." He
sighed, and
she saw his shoulders slump in defeat.  "Do you want to know what's wrong
with you? 
Do you want to know what's happening? Who's doing it?"
	He turned around slowly, to look down at her.  Tracy looked like a
discarded rag
doll, with half the spine.   He had to get her out of here.  But Tracy was
. . . well, Tracy. 
They wouldn't be leaving until she said so.
	She was just looking at him with her hollow,  glassy eyes.  "Yes. If you know
anything, I want to know it .  Now."
	"All right." He said, sitting at the foot of her bed.  "I'll tell you."
*			*			*

	"Can you stand all right?"
	"Yes. Yes, I'm fine."  Roman said.  "How have you been, Nicholas?"
	Nick laughed despite himself. "Christ you look like shit, Lacroix.  What
the hell
happened to you?"
	"You mean how did I become mortal?"
	"Um, yeah. That would be a good place to start."
	"I've got to go into the store. I've got to get some Pepto Bismol(tm) for
my wife.
Come on."
	"You're wife? Lacroix, what's going on? Who did you marry?"
	Lacroix was all ready in the store, strolling down the aisles as if he
hadn't just been
attacked by five men.  He was the same man, just not quite so intimidating.
 He wasn't so 
imposing, or so  intrusive.  Nick wondered briefly if this was the same man
that led a
roman army all that time ago.  He laughed out loud.  Roman Cross, he just
got the joke. 
"Lacroix.  Roman Cross?  Why in the world would you pick that?"
	Lacroix smiled at him.  "I know.  I had to think fast and for some reason
that's
what came out of my mouth.  It's too late to change it now."
	"Mmm-hmm.  And I'm sure the extremely ironic in joke had nothing to do
with it
either."
	"Perhaps, Nicholas.  But I can hardly spend time thinking about it now.
I've got a
very pregnant wife who's waiting for me."
	Nick felt a twinge of  jealousy stab at his heart. "Who is it, Lacroix?
What sort of
woman could make you give you immortality?"
	Lacroix eyed him.  "Jealous, Nicholas?"
	"Yes." Nick said plainly, exposing that last nerve.   "You know I am.  For
several
centuries I've tried to get where you are. And Janette and now you -- you
of all people --
got what I wanted."  He stepped very close to his former master and
whispered in his ear. 
"How did you do it?  How could you?"
	Lacroix turned his head slowly to look at Nick.  He didn't speak for a few
moments, but  in that brief span of time, Nick saw the vampiric Lacroix
staring at him.  "It
isn't a matter of how, Nicholas.  It isn't a matter of how much you
personally want it."  He
paused to pluck a large pink coated bottle from the shelf.  "It's a matter
of how much you
love."
	"What do you mean?"
	Lacroix paid for his things and they left the store, keeping a nice gentle
pace back
to the hospital.  Nick felt twisted around.  He felt vulnerable and
confused . . . he felt like
he always did when Lacroix was around.   "Nicholas, you've been searching
for a way
back across for most of the time I've known you.  But in all that time it
was only ever
about you.  What -you- wanted, when -you- wanted it anyway possible.  You
never 
thought of another person --"
	"Lacroix, who else should I have been thinking  of? You're not making any
sense."
	Lacroix stopped suddenly, pushing Nick's shoulder to make him face his mortal
master.  "Who else should you have been thinking of?  Anyone!  Leaping back
and forth
across the border between mortal and immortal isn't as easy as you seem to
think it is."
	"EASY! When did I--"
	Lacroix held his hand up to silence him.  "You can't come back across
because you
don't feel like being a killer anymore.  You can't just be mortal again -
no matter how
much you try- because you want to find someone to settle down with.  Nick
it has to be
about that other person.  It has to be because you love someone so god damn
much you
can't live without them.  The mere thought of eternity without them makes
you enraged." 
Lacroix growled out that last sentence, and Nick  suddenly began walking.
	"I think I see what you mean.  I've never loved.  -I'll- never come back
across
because I'm too selfish, is that it?"
	"Yes." Lacroix yelled behind him.  He struggled to catch up with him.  
	"Then why not just bring her across, Lacroix? Why not just do what you always
did? Make vampire children at the drop of a fucking hat! Why take -this-
road?"
	Lacroix's breath was ragged.  He stared at Nick. "You really don't get it
do you? 
Are you so dense?  Once in a lifetime does love come round where you can
totally
surrender yourself to a person.  How often have we been able to say that in
all our years?
How many?"  He was beginning to yell, causing the people in the streets  to
cross the
road.  "Never! I loved you sister once, but I was not ready to do what was
necessary.  She
wasn't the one and you knew that! But this time. . . " Lacroix softened.
He inhaled slowly,
closing his eyes. "This time I loved her too much to bring her across. She
wanted so much
to have children, to  run around outside, to grow old with someone -- I
couldn't rob her of
that.  And I couldn't exist without her."
	"So you went back across."
	Lacroix nodded. "So I went back across."
	A sad, haunting smile spread across Nick's face.  "Can I meet the woman who's
changed you so much?"
	Lacroix laughed suddenly, throwing back his head.  "I guess so.  Come with
me.
You can meet her."
	Nick watched Lacroix enter the rotating door for a moment and then followed
him.  "And one more thing, Nicholas.  My name is Roman. Stop calling me
Lacroix."
	"Why? Doesn't she know who -- what you were?  Doesn't she know what you
gave up for her?"
	Lacroix was silent as they rode the elevator back up to Tracy's floor.
Nick kept
looking at him, awaiting his answer.  When the doors opened, and they
stepped into the
busy hallway, Lacroix smiled.  "She's in the waiting room there." He said.  
	He led the way to the room.
	It was empty save for one auburn haired woman - a very pregnant auburn haired
woman sitting with her feet propped up across a few chairs.  He stopped
dead in his
tracks.  "Yes, Nicholas. You could say she knows I what gave up for her.
But she'll never
know how little it means to me.  She's all that matters.  I would do it
over and over again."
	Nick could hear the smile, the joy in Lacroix's -- Roman's voice.  He
swallowed as
the woman looked up at them.  
	She smiled brightly.  "Nick! My god, how are you!?"

*			*			*

	"Tracy, let me get you out of here.  Let me tell you everything somewhere
else."
	"No! You tell me right now what's happening." she said, mustering up as much
authority as she could. "It's been getting worse for a year!  I want to
know what it is."
	"Tracy, please!"
	"Vachon." She said quietly,  "please."
	"We don't have much time.  They're on there way."
	"Who is?"
	Vachon stared at her.  "Those that would like to keep you this way. Nice and
weak, vulnerable, and prone."
	Tracy narrowed her eyes at him, as the realization hit her.  He was lying.
 She
didn't let on that she knew he was completely bullshitting her, but let him
keep talking
instead.  Some of this had to be true.  "Tell me."
	He was silent for a second. "You may have been noticing things about yourself
that didn't used to be true."
	Tracy laughed.  "You might say that."
	"You're not eating as much.  You're not sleeping as much.  Dreams or
nightmares
that don't make any sense or seem to be run by someone else."
	Tracy's eyes widened as she nodded.  "How do you know all this?"
	"You've been watched."
	"What do you mean 'watched'?"
	"The Enforcers."
	Tracy nodded.  "I see."  She was becoming more and more angry.   She
barely had
the strength to sit up, but  her anger  was flaring up.  Dangerous to him
and her.  "Why?"
	Vachon glanced at the door, and then back at Tracy.  "How much do you
remember about that night?"
	"Which?"
	"That last night in Toronto."

   end part six.

 feed back isn't just graciously accepted, it's downright demanded.
*innoncent grin*

From: Lore8132 


	disclaimers in part one

	Only Human on the Inside (07/??)
		by, Carly

	Vachon was getting nervous.  They had to be coming up here. And he was fairly
sure that Nick would kill him if he found him near Tracy.  Especially in
this state.  She
wasn't looking at him presently, which he liked. Her eyes were far to
intense for him now. 
She wasn't the Tracy he remembered. This weakened woman in front of him was
stronger
and wiser than he thought mortals could be.  He wanted to leave.
	"I don't remember anything.  I remember being on a job with Nick. I remember
being shot, but that's it.  After that I only remember my parents hovering
over me in a
hospital room saying how lucky I was." She looked at him.  "Do you know what
happened?"
	"Yes. Why don't you tell us all?"  
	Tracy's head snapped to the doorway, causing her equilibrium to spin.  She
closed
her eyes, trying to steady herself.  Imprinted on the backs of her eye lids
was the sight of
Natalie, Roman and . . . Nick in the room.  
	"Nick.   . . .Lacroix."
	"Javier, what are you doing here?" Nick growled.  "I told you to stay away."
	"And I told you I wouldn't. You're the reason they're doing this to her.
You're the
reason this is happening!"
	Then everyone was talking at once.
	"What the hell are you talking about?"
	"What's happening to her?"
	"Who's doing what to her?"
	"Tracy! You're awake!"
	Tracy covered her ears for a second, trying to drown out their incessant
babbling. 
"Shut it!" She hissed, and  everyone else in the room fell silent.  Vachon
and Nick were
staring at here with horrified eyes. "You're going to get me out of here.
You're going to
take me to my apartment, and you're going to tel me everything. Everything,
you got it?  
No more of  this dancing around the real situation." She struggled  to lean
forward.  "Help
me up."
	Roman rushed forward and let her lean on him.  Natalie had burst through
the door
again to tell the doctors that they were leaving.  Nick and Vachon just
stared.  When
Tracy had limped out of hte room, Nick grabbed Vachon's arm.  "You were
right.  She's
changing."
	"Not changing.  Changed.  The process is almost done.  All she needs now is a
reason."
	"Or a warm body.  What do we do?"
	"We can finish it right now."
	"No! No, I won't kill her. And I won't-let-you."
	"We can tell the enforcers and let them take care of it."
	"They'll just kill her.  Or subject her to more of this."
	"There's one more option."
	Nick nodded slowly.  "I know.  Lacroix knows all about this too, I don't know
why he hasn't told her. "
	"-Roman- doens't know anything about this.  He's mortal, Nick."
	Nick looked at Vachon.  "That's doesn't mean he's suddeny and idiot. Or
suddenly
contracted amnesia."
	"No, but it does mean  that he can't feel it anymore. It does mean that
he can't
sense what's coming."

*			*			*

	Outside, Nick had caught up with Roman and Tracy, who was now close to
unconsciousness.  Natalie was a few steps ahead of them when she stopped
short. 
"Natalie, what?"
	Roman passed Tracy over to Nick and ran up to his wife. "What? Now?"
	She looked up at him, gripping her stomach.  "Yes . . . now."  
	Roman laughed.  "You've got no sense of timing do you?"  He joked as he
led her
away towards to the nurse's station.  
	Tracy lifted her head. "Natalie! Natalie, wait! Don't --"
	"Tracy . . .shhhhh." Nick said, hugging her to him.  "She'll be fine."
	"Nick . . . " She breathed, losing consciousness again.
	" . . . Tracy . . ."  He whispered. 
	He would carry he all the way back to her apartment.  He just wanted her
close to
him. He wanted to feel her breath, her hearbeat, her blood throbing
through her veins. 
Tracy.  He wanted to just close his eyes, wrap his arms around her and just
sit. He'd
longed for her for so long.  He'd only ever been half  himself all his life
and there was only
a brief moment when he felt totally whole. When she was near him.
	When she was dying in his arms from a bullet wound she looked up at him and
whispered, "You could have trusted me." And that had pierced him through,
making him
regret everything he ever did or said to her. But of course, she'd lived.  
	Just how, he'd never learned.  But here she was, just the same and he was
just glad
to be near her.  He smiled to himself. He'd might as well write sonnets.

*			*			*

"We're going to tell her everything."
	"Don't you dare!"
	"It's already begun.  You can't stop us.  She needs to know."
	"She needs to know shit, Vachon! This mortal child doesn't need to know
anything!" A finger was flapped in his face. "You do this and you will be
destroyed.  In
fact, I'll do it myself -- gladly!"
	Vachon turned his back on them and started to leave.  "Do what you must. I
-- we
love that 'mortal child' and I won't allow you to hurt her anymore."
	"She loved Knight, doesn't she? Why isn't he here fighting for her?"
	Vachon pushed open the door.  "He's doing what I don't have the spine for
. . . "
*			*			*

	"Here, drink this."
	Tracy inhaled the scent coming from the glass, but she didn't recognize
it.  When
she sipped it, she still didn't, but she emptied the glass regardless.  She
was drowsy, her
body unable to keep her sitting straight up or  awake.  "Nick, call the
hospital.  I want to
know how Natalie's doing."
	Nick nodded, though Tracy wasn't looking at him.  He watched her stare at
the fire
he'd built up.  "Certainly. I'll be right back."
	"No!" Came her weak answer. "Don't leave.  I won't be around much longer."
Her
voice went to a whisper when she couldn't keep up the breath.  "I don't
want to be alone
when that happens."
	Nick nodded dumbly and sat down on the coffee table besides the couch.
She was
propped halfway up on a pile of pillows.  He took her hand in both his own,
feeling how
cold she was.   "Tracy, I--"
	"I know, Nick." She whispered.  "Let's not get all sentimental or
ridiculous.
There's no stopping this."
	Nick smiled and laughed a bit, not letting go of her. "You're right.
You're always
right."
	Tracy laughed this time, turning her head fully to the side to look at
him.  "Not
always.  But close enough." She was silent a moment as she sobered.  "Can
you tell me
what happened?"
	"What happened when?"
	"That last night in Toronto. Vachon made a big deal about it in the
hospital.  What
happened that night?"
	Nick swallowed hard and nodded.  "Do you remember getting shot?"  When she
nodded, he sucked in a long breath.  "I don't know how you survived but --"
	"What happened to you?"
	Nick smiled. "Do you really want to hear all that?"
	"I just want to hear your voice.  I always heard it when I slept." She
smiled, almost
sadly. "I missed you."
	There was a long pause as Nick searched for words.  
	Tracy interuppted his train of  thought.  She  laughed again, this time
out loud.
"WHAT was  that what that horrible painting? Were you always so pretentious?"
	Nick laughed out loud with her.  He shook his head.  "I didn't paint that
thing. 
That was there when I bought the house. I found it so amusing that I just
left it up there.  I
don't know who painted it." He eyed her. "And as for it being pretenious,
well Javier says
that should be my middle name."
	Tracy's eyes were closing.  "No, he said you're middle name should be
'Angst' . . .
Nick Fury . . . "  She was falling alseep again, and he let her.
	Because all he could do was stare.
*			*			*

	Vachon stood outside, looking up at the dim light coming from her window.  It
was snowing, and even though he couldn't feel the cold, he wanted nothing
more than to
be wrapped up in her warmth.  He closed his eyes, feeling the snow getting
heavier,
wetter.  
	The truth was he was conflicted.  Should he go in and tell her everything?
Should
he just turn and walk away? Should he risk he own neck to tell her what
will hurt her? 
Should he just do what the enforcers told him and let it be? 
	 . . . Could he sit there and watch her in his arms? 
	He had to. It was that simple.
	No, he was not the sort of man Tracy could rely on.  She would never be
proud of
him, and that weighed down on him as he stared up at the window,
unblinking.  But, at
least he could pretend to be for awhile.
	Vachon started up the steps  and opened the door.
	Enter stage right.
*			*			*

	"There's someone at the door."
	"It's Vachon." She whispered, struggling to sit up.  Nick helped her, and
then went
to the door.  
	Soaked and dripping, Vachon stood there, looking the  messanger with some
horrible tidings. "Come in." Nick said, stepping aside. He was quick to
take his place on
the coffee table in front of  Tracy, where Vachon soon joined him.  
	"I'm dying, right." She said suddenly.  "Isn't that why you're
pussy-footin' around
me?"
	Vachon laughed and shook his head.  Obviously, she meant it when she said
she
wanted no dancing.  "Tracy, you're an experiment."
	"A what?"  She said, her voice sounding stronger than it had all night.  
	"An experiement.  You see, since the  fever scare that nearly wiped us out
 the
Enforcers have become more organized."
	"Organized?"
	"Nick, I'm surprised at you? Are you so out of the loop?"  Vachon smirked
at him. 
Drown, Nick, drown.  "The Enforcers are terrified  that someting like that
will happen
again.  So,  they've started selecting  humans to be their guinea pigs.
Tracy was unlucky
enough to be in the wrong place at the right time."
	"What do you mean?"
	"She was dying  . . . in the hospital.  She was going to die.  I couldn't
let that
happen."
	Tracy went very still. "What are you saying? You couldn't let me die?"  She
suddenyl lunged forward.  "Who are you to decide that! With all that has
happened these
three years I'd have chosen death!. Look at me Javier! LOOK AT ME.  Is this
what you
wanted me to be?  A broken empty husk of the  woman I was.  Listless,
almost lifeless!
-This- is what you chose for me!"  She threw her hands up.  "Well, thank
you very much,
Vachon! What a wonderful choice it was."
	"Tracy, please."
	"What did you do?"
	"Did you try to bring her across?"
	Vachon, who had started to stare at the floor beyond his  knees, shook his
head. 
"I thought about it. I wanted to, but no. I didn't."
	"Then what happened, Vachon?"
	"They told me at the time that they would give you enough blood to let you
live. 
They told me that they wouldn't  hurt you, and they wouldn't bother you
after that night."
	"You couldn't have possibly believed them.  They kill their own kind,
Vachon --
they're -hired- to kill.  What does that tell you?"
	"At the time I wasn't thinking about any of that.  I was still afraid of
the fever --
they had fed that to me.  I was afraid that I would kill her rather than
save her life and I
COULDN'T LIVE WITH THAT." He exhaled in a burst of air.  "I couldn't let
you die
because neither of us were smart enough to save you."  He gestured between
himself and
Nick. "Oh we're such the sensitive lot, aren't we? So  worried about
infringing on mortal
life, so afraid of becoming tangled up in  their lives that we would let
the one thing that we
love pass out of  our lives for some stupid fucking principle."
	Nick, to Tracy's surprise, nodded.  "You're right. You promise yourself
you're not
going to tell her what you are.  You promise yourself that you're not going
to get
invovled."
	Vachon was nodding. ". . .and suddenly you're allowing enforcers to give her
tainted blood to let her live just a little bit longer."
	Tracy let out a humorless laugh.  "So it's all about you, isn't it. Both
of you.  It's all
about whether you'll feel guilty -- wheter you'll have to untangle
yourself.  What about us?
Hmm? What about Natalie, Nick? What have you to say about that?  She was so
in love
with you she couldn't see straight and though claiming to love her you
never lifted a
fucking finger to show her." Her gaze shifted. "And you!  Totally ignoring
the please of a
mortal woman obvisouly off her rocker you bring her across. And then
forever whine that
you've got to tote her around like so much baggage.  If I could stand, I
walk right out of
here."
	Nick  sighed.  "We can't make you understand. We --"
	"Oh yes, I know. I'm so mortal, so young, so completely naieve that I can't
understand how mistakes can come back to haunt you. I suppose no one close
to me has
ever died. And I suppose I never sat there wishing that there was
-anything- I could do
about it. Please.  The only real difference between your kind and mine is
choice.  Where
you have it, we don't. Where we have it, you don't. So don't sit there
telling me I don't
understand. Cut the rhetorical bullshit. Stop running off on tangents and
tell me what's
happening to me. If I'm dying, I want to know. If not--"
	"You're not dying, Trace."
	"Oh no?"
	Nick was looking at Vachon now.  Almost begging him -- but whether or not he
was begging him to tell her or not to tell her Vachon didn't know.  He just
ignored the
older vampire and went on with his story. "You're not dying.  In fact, I
don't know why
you haven't fully changed yet."
	Tracy dropped her head into her hands. " . . . changed . . . " There were
severl long
and painful moments before she sucked in breath to speak again. "What do
you mean you
don't know why I haven't changed yet?"
	Vachon felt a cold stab through his heart when she looked at him.
Betrayal. "I
tried to slow down the process. I tried to make you useless to them."
	"By doing what?"
	"There are ways.  Not any that we'd want the mortal population to know about.
But there are ways.
	Tracy let out a breath she'd been holding a long time. She wasn't so sure
now that
she wanted to know.  She didn't remember anything about it, and from the
look in
Vachon's eyes, that was probably best. 
	"Is my changing inevitable?"
	" . . . yes . . ." Vachon whispered.
	It sounded like a prayer.
	Forgiveness?  Mending?
	Tracy let her head drop to Nick's shouder.
	Nick was suddenly at her side. "Tracy . . . Tracy listen to me."
	She lifted her head to look at him.  "This is exactly what you didn't
want, wasn't it?
This is exactly the opposite of what you were after." She smiled smuggly.
"You want the
angel -- the ideal. The totally pure woman . . . not a creature like you.
I know you.  But I
don't know why you're here now."
	Nick just stared at her for a moment.  She'd recited almost word for word
what
she'd said to him before leaving Toronto all together.  She was right then,
but things were
different now.  "All I wanted was you.  All I cared about was you."  He
looked directly
into her eyes.  Changing, indeed.  "Tracy if you're alive . . . that's all
I need to know."
	Vachon stared at the scene before him, feeling isolated and mute.  He stood
abruptly.  "I've said basically what I needed to.  There isn't anything
else."  
	He left the apartment unnoticed.




end part seven

From: Lore8132 

	Disclaimers in part one.

	Only Human on the Inside (08/??)
		by carly	

	"So tell me.  Where have you been these last few years?" Tracy asked
trying to avoid the impending converstaion.
	Nick shrugged. "Montpelier, mostly. I do all my work there.  My -house- is
there."
	Tracy laughed. "Yeah, we're going to have to talk about that -house- some
more."  Her smile dropped almost a quickly as it started.  "What do we do
now, Nick?"
	He dropped his head backwards to rest on the top of the couch, and looked
at her.  "We wait for night time and we feed."
	She sighed.  "I did not want this."  
	"I know."
	"Is there a way back?"
	Nick laughed, sounding more angry than happy.  "I don't know. -Roman-
found one.  Janette found one.  I haven't."
	"Then I suppose the real question is do you really want one.  If looking
this long hasn't produced a 'cure' as it were, then maybe that's not really
what you're looking for."
	"Oh really?   How did you get to be so wise?"
	"Please.  Women always are, Mr. Ritter.  You should have at least learned
that in all your time here."  She laughed.  "If I'm really going to be
immortal by night's fall -- why do I feel so shity?"
	Nick shrugged. "Vachon was probably the only one who could have answered
that.  He knows more about thie enforcer bit then he's letting on. Or that
he told us.  I don't know a thing about it. I'm intentionally 'out of the
loop'.  I don't care what they do . . . or rather, I never had a reason to
care before."
	"Well, I'm not satisfied with what I know.  He--"
	A shrill ringing jarred both of them into action.  Nick grabbed the
receiver from Tracy's haphazardly clutching hands.  "Hello?  Yes.  Yes we
do.  Okay."
	"Who is it?"
	"It's Lac-ROMAN. Roman. Ro-man." Nick laughed.  "He's been Lacroix for
eight hundred years. I can't remember him by a different name."
	"He won't let you call him Lacroix?  That's weird."
	"He's never been mortal before. He's still getting used to it I think."
	" . . . yeah, tell me about it . . . "
	Tracy spent Nick's time on the phone trying to pull herself from the
couch.  It was noon now, and  powerful sun was making her feel like she was
molded in marble. Like she wasn't allowed to move quickly . . . or at all,
really. 
	She did manage to stand, and steadying herself with the chair, she tried
to take a step.  Hestitating, she  lifted her leg and stayed there.
Closing her eyes she just did it.  Keeping her eyes closed she walked
acorss the room and into the kitchen.   She found herself in front of the
fridge where she made a snap decision.  She wretched opened the door and
looked it over.  
	It's -not- in alphabetical order, damn it.
	That's when she noticed the bottle of pop sitting there . . . calling her.
	'Traaaaaacy . . . " She imitated it as she took it off the shelf and
swirled it around.  "Well . . . "
	She leaned her head back and swallowed the rest of the bottle in one
draught.  It landed in her stomach heavy and bubbling and she closed her
eyes.  Well, so far so good.
	But suddenly, her stomach began churning --violently pitching around her
insides. She felt seasick.  Rushing over to the sink and let it run back
out the way it came in.  She groaned over the sink,  raking her her hair
from her face. 
	"I could have told you that would happen."
	Tracy lifted her head and stuck her tongue out at him.  "Do you really
think I'd have listened?"
	Nick shook his head, looking at the floor. "No." He smiled.  
	She straightened and sipped a glass of water.  "What time is it?"
	"It's afternoon.  I'm not sure exactly."
	Tracy looked him over. He stood in the doorway of her kitchen,  in a long
black trench coat, black silk shirt, black pants, black shoes.  Only his
skin and hair were a stark contrast -- and told of his true nature. He was
fabulously good looking, and just boyish enough to be endearing.
	She knew why she fell in love with him.  
	She knew that she still did.
*			*			*

	"What did you tell her?"
	Vachon stopped in his tracks, startled.  "I told her what she's becoming.
I told her how . . . "He sighed heavily. " . . . but not why."
	"And how do I know that?  How can I trust you now?"
	Vachon started to walk away again, hoping that they would follow.  "I
really don't care if you do or don't."	
	"You're not afraid of us? Then you're a ignorant as you are cowardly."
	Vachon didn't stop walking.  Just follow me you arrogant asshole. 
	Keep talking. It will make this much easier.
*			*			*

	"Don't you feel it?  We're being all pulled together.  Someone wants us
there."
	"I don't think it's a good idea, Trace.  Who knows what's out there."
	"I'm not afraid of that now."
	"Are you ready then?"
	" . . . yes . . . "
*			*			*

	Trace lifted her head slowly, waiting for the uprush of dizziness to
follow. It didn't come.
	Looking down, she saw Nick's chest rising and falling. He was still
alseep.  She squinted at the clock     . . .   seven thirty. It -had- to be
dark now. She untangled herself from Nick and went to the window.  
	The world didn't look any different.  People still ran like crazy to get
out of the snow.  Dogs still barked annoyingly.  Children were still
throwing snowballs at passing cars that slid and slipped their way on the
roads.  Nothing was different.  
	She felt a bit let down.  Wasn't being a vampire supposed to be some great
mystery?  Some great adventure that  never ended?  And then, as she stared
at the street light below her,   reality set in.  She suddenly understood
in the most universal way  how very possible it was to die of boredom.
	Then something else hit her.  If she had been getting blood for three
years, did she really age at all?  Had she gotten it more than once?  Who
gave it to her? Did she have a real 'master' then?  Christ Nick, wake up.
	 She scanned the street. No, Vachon. That's who she neeed to talk to.

	"Tracy?  Tracy, are you here?" 
*			*			*

	"Turn and talk to me you bastard!"
	Vachon turned on his heel to face the man.  "What! What do you want me to
say?  She know, god damn it! She knows what you've been doing to her!"
	"Does she know about the poison? Does she know who -exactly- decided on
her?  Who gave her the blood? Who decided she  should be the--"
	"Of course not!" Vachon snapped.  "Do you really think I'm such a moron?"
	"Well, you did tell her something."
	"Yes. Yes I did.  Because you don't have anything to worry about anymore.
You don't need her. YOu don't need to keep this up. Just let her live.
That's all I'm asking for."
	A laugh. "As if a lying turncoat like you has any right to ask me for
anything."
	"Why do you want to keep this up? Why? What is it getting you?"
	"Enjoyment."
	Vachon's heart stopped.  "Fuck you."


	She could feel him, but she could barely tell from where.  Left or right?
North or South? Where the fuck was she going?
	"Fuck me! How dare you! You're the one who just had to involve Knight.
You're the one who just -had- to turn tail and run.  Fuck you!"
	Tracy could feel his heart beating faster.  His anger was flaring up.  
	Keep it up, she willed him. I can find you faster.
	
	When Tracy burst into the alley, Vachon thought he might faint.  
	"Ahhhh. Perhaps I misjudged you after all, Vachon. You delievered her
right on schedule."
	Vachon looked at the man with wide eyes.
	"You?" Tracy said, looking at him through narrowed eyes. " . . . right on
schedule. You fucking bastard."
	"Yes, he is isn't he? The perfect spy.   The bad boy, the sexy man in
leather.  Women fall all over him, so we can use him anywhere.  You did
exactly what we wanted . . . both of you."
	Tracy growled.  It was an unholy, guttural noise.  Vachon looked at her in
time to she her dive at him.  "Fucker! How could you! HOW COULD YOU!"
	'Tracy wait!"
	"You fuckin bastard!  You'd do anything to keep us apart wouldn't you!
Anything! God damn you!"
She thrust downwards, dashing his head against the pavement. 
	"Come here." The man said, snapping his fingers.  "Get her off of him.
Take her in."
	Three others enforcers grabbed Tracy and pulled her off of him.  She
kicked and screamed, bite and scratched, but it was feeble.  They were far
stronger than she was.
	Why the fuck did she just leave without Nick?
	God damn it.
	Her eyes focused on Vachon who just just sitting up.  "Tracy, I didn't do
this! Please!"
	"Fuck you." She hissed as they dragged her away.  "We're done."
	Vachon stood, looking down at the blood running off his hands.  
	"Good show, Javier."
	

end part eight

From: Lore8132 

Disclaimers in part one.

	Only Human on the Inside (09/??)
		by carly

	Tracy tried to use her growing powers to trace in her mind the route they
were taking.  But they'd knocked her out for who knew how long.  She knew
it was hopeless, but she had to try.
	Several times now, she'd tried sending out any sort of message to Nick.
But nothing echoed back to her.
	Please Nick.  Please.
	She kicked the back wall of the steel tracuk she was in and screamed at
the top of her lungs.  "WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME!?"
	No one answered.  Were it not for the hum and motors and gears she'd have
thought she was the only person on earth.	
	She was alone enough to be.
	It was cold.
	Vachon's words kept interupting her thoughts, spinning around like a whirl
pool/  
	Experment.  There are ways.  Changed.  I couldn't live with that.  So
sensitive aren't we.  Changed.
	Experiement. Experiment. Experiment.

	What the hell did that mean.  If she really was a guinea pig, why didn't
she remember any of it.  Why weren't there scars - bumps -bruises.  Why
wasn't there some shread of evidence?
	Then is hit her like so much cold icy water.
	The nightmares. Nightmares.
	She'd be trying to tell herself for three years.
	
	 . . . three years . . . 

*			*			*

	There was no one to help him.  There wasn't a single person in the world
who could or would help him find her.  Everyone he knew was either to
afraid of the Enforcers, or they didn't care.
	Apathy is the  devil's favorite toy . . . or was it vanity.
	Nick smiled to himself.  The game had just three players left of all those
that had been set up on the board at Toronto.  First went Janette, gone to
Paris to live out a few  long time dreams.  Then went Schanke to a madman's
bomb.  Then, Screed and Urs. Screed ran away from Toronto after the  fever
and Urs joined him after nearly dying from Divia's  poision.  Then Natalie
and Lacroix to that age old crutch, love.  
	 . . . and then there were three.
	Nick had taken to equating Vachon with the Enforcers. There was no reason
not to. It was clear he had worked for them and probably still did.  They
were like the mob that way -- no one ever got out alive. And since Vachon
still breathed, he was still an Enforcer.  It was as simple as that.
	Three pieces left on the board.
	Buffalo seemed very empty now.  Still, snow-covered and empty.
	
	Tracy where are you?  
	He yelled it to the bone chilling winds.  "TRACY!" A long desparate
breath.  "TRRRRAAAACCCCYY!!"

	There was no answer. 
	There was no one to help him.  

*			*			*

	Vachon sat at the table listening to Ranon babble on about his explemplary
work. He would be greatly rewarded.  Honored and praised.  Vachon felt
numb.  This was what he'd worked for wasn't it?  A little financial
security that would let him live out several lifetimes in some comfort.
Something he'd never thought of saving up for before.
	Who knew he'd be such a family man in his  . . . old age.
	He smiled to himself, trying to hide it from Ranon and the rest of the
central command. Family man. Only if that family man could be bribed into
trying to kill off his whole family.
	Family man, indeed.
	"So, how did you do it Javier?  How did you manipulate the blood lines for
you little fledgling?  Did it work?"
	Vachon stood.  "It worked, partly. The girl wasn't as physically strong as
I'd hoped in the beginning when she was chosen.  However, the blood of the
general's daughter didn't do to her what it do the the previous subjects."
He paused to inhale, visions of blond curls rushing through his head. I
asked you for death and you gave me eternal life.  "It did create the usual
nightmares and the coma that we saw before.  However this time the coma
didn't persist and when the girl woke she remembered nothing."
	"You're work?"	
	Vachon shook his head. "I knew Ms. Vetter to be a resistor.  Whoever
erased her memory, if anyone indeed did, they must have been a strong
vampire."
	Ranon nodded. "I think perhaps we should dig in and find out who among
those she knows could have done so."
	"Well,  it couldn't have been Knight. We all know he's to weak for all
that." Vachon said, standing and leaning on the table.  "He doesn't drink
mortal blood and therefore his powers aren't as strong as those who do.
He's not like you or . . . I."
	"Very true, Javier. And that's the only thing that's kept him alive this
far." Ranon said, leaning back in his chair.  Ranon wanted very much to be
the leader of the Enforcers, Vachon knew, and he would do anything to get
there.  Anything.  
	And it looked like he himself was on for the ride.  Vachon knocked those
thoughts from his head.
	No hints, no clues. Don't let them know what you're thinking.
	"Anyways, about the girl.  The blood of Divia wasn't the only thing I put
through her veins.  I also put some blood tainted with the fever."
	A sort of surprised hush fell over the panel of vampires staring at him.
"Who authorized that, Javier?"  Ranon hissed.
	Vachon smiled easily. "And I also put through her veins the blood of one
of our first experiements."
	"Why would you do such a thing? Were you -trying- to kill this girl.?"
	"Really Vachon.  We were under the impression that you loved this mortal
girl."
	Vachon made a grand shrug.  "Well, that pales in comparison to power,
don't you think?"  They wre all silent.  "Truth is, those three types of
blood all dancing together created some interesting sideeffects.  And
experimentation is what you wanted, isn't it? Some answers, maybe some more
questions?" Vachon leaned on the table again.  "She's developing some
strange abilities I hadn't planned on, is all I'm saying."
	
*			*			*

	A cell.
	A cold, steel windowless cell. 
	Like she was some sort of animal, or criminal.   She smiled wickedly.
Maybe she was a criminal.  The gaps in her memory could be filled with any
sort of mischeif.  They'd brought her food, which she thought was strange. 
	Didn't these people know what she was.  Didn't Vachon say she'd be changed
by nightfall?  Didn't she change?
	Maybe he'd been lying, she considered.  Who knew really.   She thought she
knew Javier Vachon.  Lazy, immature,   always running for any sort of
committment or responsibility. Well, at least now she knew why he acted
like that.  He didn't want anyone to know what he really was. That sexy,
unattainable man in leather act kept people a safe distance away.   And he
could get from them whatever he wanted.
	Whatever he wanted. 
	She paced around her cell trying to get her scattered brain to  organise
the signs.  All the information she knew was in her memory, but couldn't
acess it. Someone must have tampered with that.  Vachon and all his
bloodsucking friends could hypnotize things out of a person's memory, but
she'd been resistant to all that.  
	Maybe not anymore.
	She'd been fed vampire blood. Tainted vampire blood. What did that mean?
The blood of a vampire who'd had the fever?  	A diseased sort of creature .
. . some one mad . . . . 
	 A light came on  in her skull.  Of course a mad one. Divia.  Lacriox had
once mentioned in passing that there had to be something about her that
could make her survive two millenia in a casket.  There had to be something
in her blood that made her a survivor.  Tracy laughed out loud and it
echoed in the  metallic room. 
	Of course. Divia's blood. The blood that drove other vampire nuts with
nightmares.  Vachon had that once and he'd begged her to kill him.  She
wished now that she'd done so.
	That was the moment in time that sealed her fate.  Had it been a test? A
trial by fire, as it were, to see how loyal she'd be? Or how spineless . .
. maybe they'd wanted someone they could control. Or maybe she'd just been
in the right place at the wrong time as Vachon had said.  Maybe it wasn't
planned, just circumstance.  
	Suddenly, a picture of Nick swam through the stream of conspiracy theories
in her mind.   
	Nick.
	Why did she let herself leave Toronto without telling him exactly what she
thought?  Why did she not tell him she was desparately in love with him?
Why did he let her go?   Tracy leaned against the cold wall and slid down
in, settling her rest her forehead on her knees.  Why was it her fate to
waste precious time?  Nick might have forever, but she didn't. And she'd
wasted three years by not telling him.  
	He loved her.  
	She saw it in his eyes when he looked at her in her apartment.   She'd
seen it before in Toronto sometimes when he'd look across their desk at her
and have that dopey smile on his face.  That eternally young sparkle in his
eyes that made him look the dashing suitor.  Tracy smiled through the tears
welling up in her eyes. Why didn't she tell him?  
	They might have been terribly happy together. She might not be here in
this cell now if she'd told him.  Maybe she wouldn't have been chosen if
she was wrapped tightly in the arms of a man they knew to be one of their
own. Or maybe that's why she was chosen. She knew what they were and what
they were capable of.
	Yes Virginia, there are vampires.
	Tracy stretched herself on the floor, pressing her hot face against the
cool steel.  She wanted to dream about him.  She wanted to have lovely,
soft rose colored dreams about him.  He could take way the utter fear she
was feeling.
	 She could be the old Tracy in her dreams.  The old bland boring human
Tracy.  Not this apparent monstrosity she'd become.

end part nine

From: Lore8132 

	Disclaimers in part one.

	Only Human on the Inside (10/??)
		by carly

	The central command center.  
	It was a shiny modern building with thousands upon thousands glass window
panes making up it's huge and high walls.  It was a designed by a modern
vampire architect who wanted to build a perfectly impregnable building.
	Nick looked at this rather ugly structure through his own window in his
hotel room across the street.  Roman sat  across the room from him, looking
at the old man that was once his son.  He looked lost and more than a
little afraid.
	"Nicholas, I can tell you everything I know about that building, but it
won't get you in.  It won't get you to her."
	"Do you know what they're doing over there?"
	"I know only what they started out to do.  What you told me the Spainard
said is true.  The Enforcers were terrified of the Fever because it showed
them they could actaully die without the aid of  the sun of a well placed
stake.  They wanted to know if there was a way to beat it -- a vampiric
Ny-Quil(tm) if you will.  This was before Natalie figured out what would
cure it,  of course.   And then along came my daughter. Divia had something
they didn't. She had something they needed but had no way of getting. She
had blood so pure that she was unaffected by the Fever."
	"But after Natalie cured the Fever, why'd they keep at this?"
	"They wanted to make sure it would never happen again.   Their objective
changed when she spread around the cure.  They went from trying to help
their race to trying to improve it.  They wanted to force the hand of
evolution. They want to be truly invincible."
	Nick nodded slowly. "So the blood they gave Tracy wasn't tainted in a
diseased sort of way, necessarily, but  tampered with. Was it synthetic?"
	"No.  It was Divia's."
	"How?"
	"I don't know. I only know that it was hers.  They were giving a mortal
woman the blood  of a vampire that had not drank human blood in two
thousand years.  They were trying to make a new vampire, a pure untainted
vampire.  One that would have all the power of the ancient ones, like Divia
did, but none of her mania."
	"But they failed, didn't they?  They failed many many times before Tracy."
	"Yes.  They failed at least fifty times.  Quite a few mangy, crazy
vampires they either killed themselves sortl after escaping, as they always
do, or who are still with them.  Divia's blood did different things to
everyone they gave it to."
	"Is it only Divia's blood?"
	"No.  They have in our famous green bottles the blood of a lot of
vampires, but Divia's is the one the ise the most in this experiment.  You
see they don't need to use a lot. A mortal ia very succeptible to whatever
it is in your blood that makes you a vampire. And they are even more prone
to those things in the blood of a powerful vampire."
	Nick was nodding.  He was numb, he couldn't feel his extremities.  He felt
like the main character in the Matrix(tm) hearing all sorts of things that
sounded to extreme to be real. To science fiction, to fantasy.  "What can
we do?  Is she going to be a vampire?"
	"Yes. She's too far gone to stop that now.  She will be a vampire the
first time she tastes the blood of someone she kills.  You see that's the
strangest part of all this.  She's been eating and drinking blood for three
years,   but it is our bloodlust that makes us a vampire. It's our desire
to hunt and kill that makes the transformation complete.  With a normal
fledgling this all happens in the span of a  hours.  They go from mortal,
to that hazy inbetween area, to that place where they succomb to that first
hunger.   It is the moment when you taste the blood of your first kill that
you actually become a vampire. With our Tracy who's been changing so slowly
for years that first hunger is completely unpredictable."
	"So it's only a matter of  time.  It's only a matter of when the desire to
kill and drink takes over."
	"Right."
	"How is it that you know all this? Vachon told me you didn't know a thing."
	"Well he's right in a way. I can't feel it happening anymore. But when you
told me what had happened I could figure it out well enough." Roman paused.
 "But there's one more thing I should tell you."
	"What's that?"
	"I know you and I never finished you trainning way back when, but do you
remember what I told you about the Enforcers rules? Or laws, I suppose I
should say."
	"Laws? Laws about what?"
	"About the kinds of vampires allowed."
	Nick searched his memory for a moment. Slowly it was washing over him.  "A
vampire that kills its own kind for feeding must be stopped."  He sounded
as if he were reciting if off of cue cards.
	"Right.  One that kills its own kind for any reason must be stopped. But
especially those that use their fellow vampires as food.  They are the most
dangerous. Do you remember why?"
	"No."
	"Ingesting blood of humans gives you their memories and their abilities
for two hours, right?"
	"Right."
	"Well then, ingesting the blood of vampires would give you theirs. But
your blood is immortal. It's what makes you immortal."
	"But, Lacriox, we don't have blood."
	Roman smiled.  "Well, that's where my dear Natalie was wrong.  You most
certainly do.  And if you drink immortal blood that part of them lives in
you forever."
	"What are you saying?" Nick said, an icy fear spreading through him.
	"You need to get Tracy out of there.  The only things in there for her to
feed on are vampires. If she's around them when the first hunger takes her
she will become exactly what they fear most."
	Nick laughed, a terrible humorless sound.  "She'd become exactly what they
want.  She'd be more powerful then all of them. Tracy feeds regularly on
vampire blood and she gets all of that vampires memories and abilities and
dispositions.  She'd be invincible."
	"Exactly." Roman breathed.  "Exactly. She'd be breaking their one solid
law and they'd kill her."
	"Could they?"
	"In this case yes.  She would be stronger than them, yes.  But she
wouldn't have what their experiments are trying for. She wouldn't be
invincible. The sun and a stake could still dispatch her. They are trying
to make a vampire that wouldn't be vulnerable to that. But they certainly
don't want one that would make your kind of vampire into food."
	"So I've got to get in there. To stop the experiments, and to stop her
from becoming  . . . one of those."
	Roman laughed. "Yeah, there's no word for it. It's not like a carouche.
There's no word for a vampire that eats other vampires." A slow, sad smile
spread across Roman's face. "I can't pretend that I envy you, Nicholas.  I
don't want to be like you anymore."
	Nick looked at the soft weak man in front of him.  Well, perhaps no weak.
This was the bravest man Nick knew.   He  gripped Roman's shoulder a
moment. "Neither do I, old man. Neither do I."

*			*			*

	Tracy sat on the floor,  squeezing her hands into fists as tight as she
could.  She could beat this.  She could win.
	Her veins burned under her skin like a network of  cracked and frayed
wires. They needed moisture.  They needed fluid.
	The fluid in the veins of someone else.
	She could see the slight pulsating underneath the skin of everyone she
came in contact with.  They'd stopped bringing her food, she'd noticed. Yet
in the few days since that had stopped she didn't feel hungry for that sort
of food anymore.  She didn't get thinner or weaker either.
	In fact, she felt nice and aware.  Awake. Alive.
	She moved to crouch on the floor, like a junlge cat ready to pounce as the
door of  her cell creaked open.   It was Vachon.  She growled - a feral
wild sound that she couldn't control.  I hate you.
	Hate you. Hate you. Hate you.
	"Tracy, can you hear me?  Hang on just a bit longer all right. Just a few
more days. I can get you out of here, if you just give me a little more
time." He moved to crouch before her, resting his hands on her arms.
"Please, Tracy. Hang on."
	"What am I doing here? Why is there always someone screaming?"
	"It's the blood. Everyone here is in the same boat as you. Some can't take
it though."
	"You mean the nightmares?  The voices?"
	"Right.  Some develop multiple personalities, some just go crazy."
	"I see." She growled at him.  "You did this. You chose me."
	Vachon couldn't say anything.  What was there to say.  
	She moved so quickly, even he couldn't see it.  "FUCKIN BASTARD!" She dove
at him, wrapping her hands around his throat and squeezing.  " . . . die,
just fucking die. . . ."  She smashedhis head against the floor and then
heaved him upwards to stand in front of her.  His eyes bugged out of his
head in both horrible surprise and a lack of air.  "This is what you chose
for me to be. I hate you.  I HATE YOU."
	She slammed him against the wall again and again, hoping  to break him in
half.  The sum of all her rage heaved on him, the sole bearer of blame.
But it was not to happen.  More hands descended on her, tearing her off him
and pulling her backwards.  Chains scraped and clattered around on the
floor as they locked her in place.
	They bound her standing up, her legs tied togeter and her arms chained
above her head.  She was unable to move.  She was helpless.
	She'd always been helpless.
	Vachon stared at her as he coughed his way back to a steady heartbeat.
"Christ."
	"You are lucky I wasn't far behind, Javier. She'd have gladly killed you."
	"I can tell."  Vachon said, stepping out the door.
	Tracy closed her eyes, resting her head against the wall.  She let her
mind drift taking her far away from here.

	Just click you heels, Tracy. Three times will get you home.
 	 

end part ten

From: Lore8132 


	Disclaimers in part one.

	Only Human on the Inside (11/??)
		by carly

	They didn't cut her down for three days.  Ranon kept coming in testing
her, trying
to see if she'd explode at them again.  He kept saying she was theirs.  She
was only their
plaything, their . . . slave. And there was hell to pay for getting away
once, she could smell
that in the air.
	And when they finally did cut her down, the testing began.  Every three hours
someone came in and drew blood from her.  Enormous amounts of it, keeping
her feeling
weaker and lightheaded.  Then, twice a day in came a few women who called
themselves 
the "Cleaners" who came to force down her throat some evil smelling
concotions that she
didn't want to know the ingredients to.  One a day came the back breakers,
who forced her
to     perform some strange tasks.  Once she had to stay on the balls of
her feet for several
hours.  Another time she'd been forced to hold her breath while one of them
stared bugged
eyes at a stop watch.  And for a period of three days she'd been kept from
sleeping.
	The only thing she could figure is that they were trying to gage the
extent of 
Vachon's fuck up.  That's what the Cleaners had called him.  The Fuck up.
What had he
done in their eyes, that was so incredibly wrong?
	But the more painful aspects of this 'treatment' were coming.  Ranon kept
talking
about it as if it were some great gift he'd been waiting for. 
	She needed to leave.
	Now, as she sat on the pile of blankets that made her bed in the far
corner of the
cell she tried to remember the layout of the corridor they'd been leading
her through for
the last few days.   There was no goddamned way  that she was giving them  the
opportunity to torture her or  screw her up in anymore.  Not if there was a
way to stop it.
	They hadn't been getting lax with her.  They hadn't let up their grip. She
was still
led by four guards, armed with wooden stakes of course and they circled her
like so much
precious treasure.  
	She didn't feel like precious treasure.  She felt like an animal.
	Blankets on the floor, no windows, no food, no warmth. 

	The dreams were getting both better and worse.  If anything they were
clearer,
making a bit more sense now that she knew at least some of what was
happening. 
Nothing was for certain though. And that was what really got her.  She
didn't trust
Vachon any farther than she could throw him, which admittedly was now
pretty far.  
There was something sinister about him that wasn't there before. She knew
to much about
him, but then again knew nothing.  There was this feeling in the pit of her
stomach that the
more she learned the less she actually knew. There were so many layers to
this particular
onion that she was afraid of the core.  Who knew what sort of rotten guts
she'd find there.
	Then again, who gave a shit?  If she could get out of here, there'd be
nothing to
worry about. She'd disappear -- forever.  Nick had to know people who could
make her
disappear.   Just as long as she was with him.
	Tracy smiled.  How mushy was she?  Who knew that she could be so  . . .
silly.  
	But then again, was it silly?   Emotions always had been mocked by her fellow
cops in the precinct - they were signs of weakness, of vulnerability.
Then again, most of 
those men and women had families as well. So maybe it was only at work that
emotions
were bad.
	Bad.
	She loved him.  Why was she still fighting it?   Tracy dropped her head
into her
hands.  What wiring in her brain made her doubt such a strong emotion. 
	Everything was upside down.
	
	She stood and paced around her cell, wanting to feel her blood pounding
through
her veins.  She needed to sweat again, to feel her heart pounding.
	
	To feel anything, really.

*			*			*

	"You're not coming with me. You're not.  So just turn your old wrinkly ass
around
and go back to you wife and new daughter."
	"Nick, I could be useful.  You could pretend I was a new candidate."
	"Oh sure, and what then if I fail?  What if I get caught?  Then you get
killed and if
they don't kill me, Natalie will.  No thank you. Go home, Roman."
	Roman threw up his hands.  "Jesus Christ!  What are you going to do?"
	"I don't know." Nick said, slumping back in his chair.  "Tracy's a strong
woman,
I've no doubts she could save herself given the change. And--"
	"You're right, GIVEN THE CHANCE."
	Nick eyed him. "Are you saying she needs me?"
	Roman laughed.  "Oh aren't we the greedy one.  Does it matter if she does or
doesn't?"  Roman paused, shifting to lean closer to Nick.  "What really
matters is . . . how
much to you need her?"  Every word was pronounced deliberately, and every word
stabbed.
	He was right, of course.  He was always right.
	"Right. But you're still not going.  Go home."
	"Nicholas! I--"
	"Don't make me force you." Nick said, smirking at him.  "I can do that you
know."
	Roman grimaced at him.  "I should never have told you."
	"Like you could hide it."
	They were silent a few more moments, the mood sinking as fast as lead in
water.  
Roman looked Nick over as if assessing him.  "Do you love her, Nick?"
	"You of all people know that I do."
	"Then why are you still talking to me and my old wrinkly ass?"

*			*			*

	Tracy lifted her chin up over the bar one last time.   Sweat poured from
her body,
causing her to actually shiver in the cold room.  Dressed in just a sports
bra and long loose
sweat pants, she wished they'd at least given her some shoes. She didn't
know why, but
shoes seemed like the link between being human and being an animal.
	Through her mind raced everything he'd been worrying about.
	She didn't know where she was, but she did know that this place not good for
one's health.  Screams of pain or terror echoed through the halls at night,
and even though
her particular cell had a thick iron door, she could still hear it.  
	She hadn't seen Vachon since that day she nearly killed him. But the other
man she
saw all the time. Here he came now. 
	A polite knock on the door caused her to turn toward it. "May I come in, Miss
Vetter?" She didn't respond, and the door creaked open anyway.  "Well,
don't we look
delicious."
	She turned away to dry off her face with a towel. "What do you want, Ranon?"
	"Oh, nothing.  My superiors have decided to  use you next.  We've come to
take
you to them."
	"Really? And if I don't want to go?"
	"You really don't have a choice, my dear."  He snapped his fingers and two
men
entered.  They took hold of her arms and practically dragged  her out of
the room.  
	Struggling to keep up with their strides, Tracy looked carefully at what they
passed.  She needed to remember all of this.  She saw no outside windows
not boarded
up.  She saw no outside doors.  There were a long procession of cells -- as
if this were a
jail . . . perhaps it was.   Three long corridors before the  desk with the
night staff.   Two
more hallways and one left turn brought them to the Doctor's office.  
	The Doctor, was he was referred to was the founder of this compound and
all that
went on here.  He was the mastermind, if he could be called such, of this
whole operation. 
	She managed to get from her guards that he was a strange and cruel man of
whom
very little was known.  What they did know, however, was that he wanted her
next.
	The Doctor's Office.  She laughed out loud.

*			*			*
	
	Well, he'd been right about one thing.  There was no one to help him.  
	He sat under the trees on the hill to the south of the compound, watching the
activity.  They were digging.
	And digging a lot.
	Seven graves were dug,  the soil smelly sickly fresh even from way up
here.  And
seven bodies, all in various pieces were strewn on a pile behind them.  If
they were
vampires, why bother to bury them? Why not just leave them to the sun . . .
the sun that
was setting shortly. Nick shook his head. What the fuck went on in there?
	He strained to see, even with his special eyes, if Tracy's body parts were
among the
pile.  He already knew that they weren't. Her blood had that intoxicating
scent that drove
him crazy . . . and he didn't smell it just now.  She wasn't in the pile.
	But who was?  
	Climbing down the side of the hill slowly, he moved closer to the men
digging.
Then it hit him. They weren't vampires . . . these were mortal men.  Mortal
men, but not
quite normal.  Something was wrong. Very very wrong.  The hairs on the back
of his neck
stood on end signaling even the slightest danger to him.  Nick narrowed his
eyes and
growled.
	That good old time vampire was still in him after all.  He waited until
the men
turned to the gruesome pile of body parts before he ran for the door.  Ran
in a gust of
wind the men didn't see.  The door to the rear of the compound was open.
	He was inside.

*			*			*

	She was tossed to her knees after they entered the room, and the two men
left just
a quickly.  She dragged her eyes up to the desk where her eyes fell on " .
. . Javier . . . "
	"I'm sorry, Trace. I'm so sorry."
	She laughed cruelly. " I should have figured it was you. I should have
figured."
	"It's not what you think.  I--"
	"Oh really!  I heard people screaming, I've seen the bloody mops trying to
clean up
some lovely messes.  I've seen what happens to people who try to get out.
They've told me 
bit about you, DOCTOR.  I--"
	"You've been here fourteen days, Vetter. You don't know shit about what
goes on
here."
	This quieted her for a moment. She hated him.  An emotion so close to love
that
for several seconds she had trouble distinguishing between the two.  What
happened to
that beautiful man in leather she'd  naively fallen for?  What happened to
him . . .to her?   "
. . . what am I, Vachon?"
	He didn't answer right away. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.  "I told you
once that
you are an experiment. That's true.  But you weren't given blood just one
time - not just
that once in the hospital. You've been slipped blood as often as possible
everyday.  It was
in your food. You ingested it every time you ate or drank anything."
	"This was just in Toronto."
	"Yes."
	"Then why did you say I should be changing already."
	"Well, there was something I didn't know then."
	She arched an eyebrow at him.  "Which is?"
	"It wasn't pure blood.  It wasn't plain old vampire blood. It was tainted."
	She swallowed.  " . . . with what?"
	"Poisons -- drain cleaner,  arsenic,  strychnine,  bleach and sometimes
ammonia."
He said, letting the sentence explode out of him in one rush of breath.
	"Then why am I not dead?"
	"It wasn't enough to kill you.  You were given vampire blood, don't forget
that.
Given if it was pure you'd have changed within a month with as much as you
were
getting."
	"And I didn't because of the poisons?"
	"That and you didn't because you didn't know you were getting it."
	"W-what do you mean?  How could that make any difference?"
	He stood suddenly, coming toward her to help her up off the floor.  He sat
her in
the chair before his desk and crouched near her.  "Do you remember when
Nick lost his
memory? Or Monica with the several different personalities who managed
daylight with
out any imploding side affects?"
	"Yes."
	"Well,  we wanted to find out how that happened.  If she could be a vampire a
night and yet walk around in the daytime we want to know how she did it. Or
if it could
be recreated."
	"Recreated.  You mean I wasn't ever supposed to know I was being 'fed' as you
put it."
	"Exactly."
	"Then why poison me? If they -wanted- me to be a vampire and not know it why
poison me? And I don't have multiple personalities, why use me?"
	"That's exactly why.  You're such a strong resistor that you were the perfect
choice.  If  we could make you a vampire that could walk around in the day,
we would
have won. We -want- the sunlight, Tracy.  Mind over matter will get us
that, we are
willing to do anything."
	Realization came crashing down on her.  He was saying 'we'.  He had been
lying all
this time.  She closed her eyes.  God how could she have been so blind?
"And I'm just a
means to an end."
	"Yes."
	She nodded.  There it was then.  
	"They'll  will be wanting you for the final part of the treatment."
	"Which is what?"
	"I'd really rather not tell you."
	She laughed. "It's pretty gruesome or it's never worked before?"
	"Both." He answered.  " Look, I know you hate me. I know you want me to die
painfully. But I don't think you know how sorry I am. I'd do anything now
to take back
the decision I made that night if it would make you happy. If you would
forgive me.  I am
sorry.  I failed you."
	Tracy bit her tongue.  Bit is so hard that trickles of  blood were
starting to run
down her throat.  
	Fucker.
	"Tracy, what's going on here isn't what you think. I know you think this
is some
mad scientist's lab.  Or that we're doing this for fun or something.  We
just want to save
our own. We want a better life for us all."
	"And torturing innocent humans is going to get you that?"
	"Oh Tracy, please!" Vachon said, sounding exasperated.  "What's a few human
lives if it means a great beneficial leap for my kind?  Don't even try to
tell me that your
kind doesn't do that. Wipe that indignant look right off you face.  How
many bunnies and
monkeys and rats have been tortured to try and save your kind? Hmm?"  His
breath
seemed to catch in his throat when he opened his mouth to say more, and
then changed his
mind.   He searched her eyes for a moment, looking for something he seemed
to need. 
"I'm sorry we did this to you, Tracy.  That is a mistake I can't take back.
  Of all the guinea
pigs I could have taken from the mortal world, I shouldn't have taken you."
 He crouched
closer to her.  "Please, Tracy, forgive me." Another long pause as he
seemed to be trying
to inhale her whole.  "Please.  I know you won't believe me, but I love you
too. I've
always loved you.  Can't you feel that?"
	When he took her hand and pressed it to his chest she realized something that
before had not been possible.  Vachon had no heart beat . . . . neither did
she.  The world
seemed perfectly, horribly clear.  There was no loyalty, no integrity, no
allegiance that
couldn't be bought.  Vachon's was bought for the price of a promise of
wealth and luxury.
	And now he was trying to buy hers.
	Tracy looked towards the windows in the Doctor's Office that were getting
lighter
and lighter.  The sun.  The pretty, glorious  setting sun.  How much she
wanted to bask in it's 
perfect fire.   
	Not all loyalty could be bought, she considered as  Nick floated into her
vision. 
There were some pure things . . . well, somewhat pure, anyways.  
	Mindfucking was what he was trying to do to her.  Trying to call that
love.  Tracy
pitied him.
	"I'm so sorry for you, Vachon.  Getting yourself into all this trouble."
	" . . . Tracy . . ." He breathed.
	"Love, you call it?  Love?  Have you any idea what that word means?"  She
rested
her hand on his face.  "Such and evil thing as you calling it love?  If I
had any humor left,
I'd laugh at you."
	Vachon's eyes narrowed on her a moment before he dropped her hand and rose
slowly.  He didn't say anything to several long moments.  "Well,  we don't
have time right
now to talk about it."  He swallowed hard, trying to choke down his next
sentence. He
turned his back on her.  "He loves you, you know. I lived with him for
these last three
years -- he always thought of you."
	"I know." She whispered.  Then, the idea that had always been teasing the
edges of
her consciousness formed in her head.  She smiled cruelly, though he could
not see her. 
"Vachon, what about you?"
	His shoulders tensed.  "W-what do you mean?"
	"What happened to us?"
	He was silent.  He opened the door and forced her outside  before he spoke.
"Nothing happened. And that's my fault."  His shoulders seemed to slump in
defeat.  "I
told you that I love you and I did not lie. But I see your heart for what
it is.  A cold empty
hole in your chest.  Forgiveness never was your strong point was it?"
	Mind fuck.  Point to Vachon.
	"All right. Think whatever you wish, Tracy. I'm washing my hands of you."
	Oh but Pilate! Don't you love me anymore? They were marching down a  long
corridor that she remembered only vaguely. This was the way to the door.
	"You'll be taken to the other side of the compound. That's where the failed
experiments are."
	Did he really mean to march her around outside now, as the sun was still
up?  Or more to
the point, did he really mean to march around himself out there.
	There! There was the door!  The sun was indeed still up, things were to
bright in here for
it to be nighttime.  
	Tracy lifted her head,  and dropped her hands to her sides.  She felt
oddly calm. 
"Don't blame yourself Vachon.  It was just the wrong time, wrong place. You
tried." She
tried to make her voice sound as sweet as possible.  "Besides, who knows
what could
have happened if you'd told me sooner.  If you care so much for me . . .
who knows what
could happen now  . . ."
	Vachon started to turn around in surprise and Tracy swung arm fists at him
as hard
as she could.
	She took off running, and she was out the front door before Vachon hit the
floor.

	She closed her eyes and started to run to god knows where.


	end part eleven.

From: Lore8132 


	Disclaimers in part one.			


	Only Human on the Inside (12/??)
		by carly

	This frigging place was like a goddamned maze.  The corridors wound around
and
around uselessly. Or maybe he was just trying to hard.
	Then, as he was lost chase, the aroma of blood filled his nostrils. Blood
. . . .
immortal blood.  Sand and spices. Vachon.
	Nick took off running down the hall in pursuit of the hot scent.  He felt
every inch
the predator.  What a wonderful feeling it was.  Why did he ever leave it?
	It was only second before he found Vachon,  bent over in a pool of his own
blood,
looking dazed and  defeated.  Nick pounced on him, knowing full well he'd
better get this
over with quickly.  The sun was going down and the others would be coming
up to start
up tonight's work. They would be found.
	Nick clamped his hand down on Vachon's throat, lifting him off his feet.
"Where is
she?"  He growled from behind his long, sharp fangs.  
	"I don't know."
	Nick slammed him against the wall. "Bullshit. Where is she?"	
	"Nick! She got away.  She ran. I don't know where she is."
	"Why did you just let her run?  You wanted her so badly, why let her get
away?"
	"It was still day light."  Vachon saw Nick's eyes go wide.  " . . . she
may not even
be alive."
	Nick dropped Vachon and turned to leave.  
	"Wait, Nick. Let me help find her! Please!"
	"You? You who betrayed her? Who betrayed me?  Get the fuck away from me."
	"Nick, no.  I tried to save her. If it weren't for me not only would she
be a vampire
by now, she'd be dead."
	Nick stopped and looked at him, the vampire gone from his features.  "What
are
you saying?"  He saw the younger vampire falter  and he stepped closer to
him.  "Tell me
everything.  Everything, Vachon.  Now."
	"And then what?"
	"I'll kill you."  Nick's voice was a low, primal growl.  Vachon felt the
blood  in his
body go colder.
	He meant it.

*			*			*

	Tracy  crouched by the doorway, smelling the thick heady scent of the man
inside. 
Ranon. He exited the building, holding a bottle of what was probably holy
water.  She
smiled.  How about that for ironic? A vampire searching for  little old her
armed with only
a bottle of holy water.  She shook her head. If in deed he was looking for
her. She hadn't
heard any alarms sounded at her escape. Maybe Vachon had intended to let
her go, after
all.
	She smiled to herself. Vachon was leading quite the multi-sided life
wasn't he? 
Which of his many faces was the real one. . .  was there a real one?
	When he got  far enough away from the door she saw what he was doing.  He was
pouring it out along the perimeter of the compound. Was he trying to keep
them in, or
keep her out?
	She smiled slowly.  She wasn't a vampire . . . yet. One thing she learned
from all of
their poking and prodding was that she wasn't immortal yet.  But, there
were obvious
ways of changing that.
	He got closer to her, and started to catch her scent.  Before it was too
late she
burst from her hiding place and threw herself at him, knocking them both
backwards
towards the ground.  She crushed her face into his neck and felt the
glorious pleasure-pain
building in her mouth.  When he tried to scream, she crammed her hand in
his mouth,
silencing him.  
	Her teeth descended, her eyes all of a sudden very clear.  Snapping her
head back,
she struck.
	Then, before she could stop herself, her teeth tore a hole and  his blood
poured
into her mouth.
	  . . . .so many memories. . . .
              . . . sweet and warm . . . . 

*			*			*

	Vachon collapsed to his knees on the ground, with Nick towering over him.
"HOW did you save her, Javier? Explain that.  She's been fed poisoned blood
for over
three years so that you assholes could find out if they could  make a
closet vampire? What
the fuck is wrong with you?"  He circled behind Vachon.  "What exactly did
you learn
while you were torturing the woman you claim to have loved."
	" . . . . love . . .  present tense."  Vachon whispered.
	Nick's laugh was cruel.  Christ, Lacroix had taught him well.   "Well, how
did you
save her then?"
	"I'm the one who poisoned her."
	Nick kicked Vachon in the spine as hard as he could.   
	Pitching forward, Vachon tried in vain to  keep his head form hitting the
ground. 
Nick was suddenly at his ear.  "How dare you , fucking coward? Could kill
her to her face,
could you? Couldn't just leave her alone?  If she wouldn't have you, she'd
have no one!
God damn you."  He grabbed Vachon and wrenched him off the ground.  "I love
that
woman. I've loved her since the moment I saw her, and you dare tell me that
you're the
reason she's half crazed and dying."
	"Dying?"
	"Yes, dying! Everything pure and human about her will die the moment she
takes
in blood. God damn it, Vachon you know that!  I should kill you now."
	"Go ahead." Vachon barked.  "But if you do, you'll have to live with never
knowing why I did it."
	"Speak.  Now."
	"They didn't want to poison her.  They wanted her to be a vampire. I
couldn't let 
her become a monsters like the others they'd created."
	"You mean they succeeded?"
	"They wanted to use her up and then kill her before she became to much of a
nuisance. Nick, you don't know the half of what goes on here. Even what you
think you
know is wrong." He inhaled sharply.  "You're my best friend now. I've never
done
anything for either of you, yet neither of you ever hurt me.  I poisoned
her to keep her
from turning right away, and to keep her weak enough where they wouldn't
want her.  I
tried to keep her from turning until I could get help."
	"Why didn't you tell me?"
	"Oh Nick, please! You were so entrenched in your moping you would have been
of no use.  Lacroix is the one I wanted to get help from but he was . . .
busy."
	Nick was taken back by that.  He blinked a few times and then smirked
ironically..
"You're right."  he finally let go of Vachon and sat down.  "What else is
there?"
	"I admit it wasn't the best idea, but I'm on the inside of the Enforcers.
I couldn't do
anything  that would raise suspicion. I did the only thing I could think of
to stop her
transformation."
	"You know, she was the first woman I wanted to bring across in  a long
time.  I
always thought she'd make our kind look better.  Why was she having those
horrible
nightmares? Why is she weak, yet weirdly strong? What's wrong with her?"
	"I don't know." Vachon said, finally telling the truth.  "The only thing I
know is
that they will kill her if  they get their hands on her. I love her too,
Nick.  But I never
wanted to come between you two.  I've seen how she looks at you."
	Nick just looked at him.  "You betrayed her, and you betrayed me."
	"Yes."
	"You had to."
	"Yes." Vachon answered. After a beat he added,  "She's alive.  She will
get better.
What do we do now?"
*			*			*

	Tracy lifted her head from Ranon's neck and inhaled sharply.  Her senses were
wildly awake. She could hear insects from yards away chirping. She hear the
water rushing
through the pipes underneath her.  She could see everything!  The license
plates of passing
cars,  the  smallest flaws in the brick wall. 
	She rose, leaving Ranon's empty corpse behind. Perhaps there was another
way to
kill her kind.
	Her kind.
	She wiped away his blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.  The
taste of
him was making her dizzy.  She felt drunk, she felt happy.
	She felt . . . wonderful.

*			*			*

	"Nick, the enforcers aren't just going to let her be.  She's their prized
experiment.
The one who could put us into the next level of evolution."
	"Ah, I knew there had to be more to this."
	"Yes. But you're not listening."
	"Yes, I am.  I'll kill them all myself if I have to."
	"There's one more thing you should know. . . "
	"I know what you're going to say." Nick said, nodding slowly.  "She needs
to be
brought all the way over."
	"Or she will die . . .soon." 
	"Or she will die." Nick echoed.
	"We've got to help her, Nick."
	"Has it ever occurred to you, Javier, that I've had enough of your
'help'?"  The
door creaked open and there was Tracy.
	Vachon thought his heart would stop.  He couldn't take much more of this.  
	Nick stared, slackjawed.
	Tracy, with blood streaked down her neck, her chest and even leaving
trails down
her stomach.  Tracy, with wild hair and bright, shining eyes.  Her teeth
were long, and
gleaming white,  her skin eerily pale.  She looked taller now, as if  the
whole ordeal had 
stretched her thin.  But she looked strong and vibrant.
	Tracy was a vampire.
	Nick and Vachon stared at her.  She was . . . gorgeous.
	She stepped into the room, no longer cold, no longer scared. "I've never
met in all
my life someone as treacherous as you Javier.  Never."
	"Tracy?" Nick said dumbly, still not over the shock of seeing her coming
through
the door.  After a few beats he said, "Vachon tried to save you."
	"Or so he says. There's only a few scattered bits of truth in your
stories, aren't
there, Master?"
	Master.  That word pounded through the empty air. 
	Master.  Master.  Vachon was her father?
	She stared at Vachon, who rose from the floor slowly.  "Nick is right you
know,
you did betray me." She held her hand up when he started to speak. "It's my
turn now. 
You did what you thought you had to.  But did it ever occur to you to just
-tell- me.  Was
I so weak and delicate to you that I needed your protection?  Was I so
naive and
braindead that I couldn't have helped myself?"  She looked him in the eye.
"And which of
these many Vachon's  I've met lately is the actual one?" She inhaled
slowly.  "I can't tell
you how much hate I've got for you now.  I can't forgive your giving me so
much hate. I
loved you once, I'm ashamed to admit. But I wonder now if it was ever
really you."
	Vachon was stammering, not really sure what to do.  Tracy advanced on him,
forcing him back outside.  
	Outside. Uncovered and in the open.  He felt naked.
	"I was just your play thing, wasn't I?  Something you felt you had the
right to
screw with whenever you felt like it.  And you call that love.  Christ, you
make me sick.  I
was so weak and helpless wasn't I?  So useless and  ripe for the taking.
You've betrayed
me in more ways than I can count.  She narrowed her eyes.  "What do you see
now,
Javier?"
	He grew suddenly still.  He knew now . . . he'd made a bigger mistake then he
originally thought.
	"You and I were friends  and regardless of your bullshit and almost
successful
mind fucking, you  made one terrible mistake.  One that gave you away.  You
see, you
should  have believed enough in me to know that I could have helped myself.
You should
have never told me how responsible for this you are."  
	"Are you going to kill me then?  Get you revenge while it's hot?"
	Tracy smiled at him.  A sad, pitying smile that he didn't expect.  "No,
Javier.  There will be no big final showdown, or one big climatic battle
between you and I.  You've taken up enough of my time, or rather wasted
enough of my time.  You're simply not worth the effort, to be frank.
You're not important to me.  I'm not going to kill you and let you be on my
conscious for the rest of time." She paused.  "Then again, you don't get
another cahnge to fuck with me. So afford me to say this, " She raked her
hands through her hair.  The room  hummed with absolute silence for one
eternal moment.  Then, in a voice that couldn't belong to her, Tracy
whispered.  "The next time we meet, one of us dies."
	

	end part twelve.

From: Lore8132 


	Disclaimers in part one

	Only Human on the Inside (13/13)	
		by carly		
	
	The sun was up. High noon.
	"Just forget about him, altogether.  The river of bullshit that came out
of his mouth is to deep even for us. Leave him behind."
	"He's might be the mastermind of that whole deal."
	"I know, Tracy. I know."
	She smiled at him. "But it doesn't really matter, does it?" She paused
looking at him.  "Let's go somewhere strange."
	"Absolutely."
	"Some where hot and horrible with big huge insects."
	"Sure."
	There was a long pause as they stared at each other, two battle bruised
vampires, not completely sure of what happened.  How much was truth, how
much was lies.
	It didn't matter.  
	Nick was nervous about something.  Something that he wanted to ask her,
she could feel that much in the tension surrounding him.  She didn't want
to tell him what she consumed in her first hunger.  There was an
overwhelming feelinging that it was a terrible thing. Vachon had once said
that you wake up so hungry that you'll drink anything. And then that
anythig becomes your main craving for the rest of your life.
	That didn't sound good right now.
	In fact, rats were sounding like a much better deal.

	Nick lifted the bottle to his lips, drinking it in slowly.   Cow's blood
wasn't the best tasting thing in the world, but it would have to do for
now.  Tracy was still standing with her back pressed to the wall.  She had
three floor fans blowing on her, and her eyes were closed tight.  
	Nick looked at her.  She hadn't changed since they'd returned to her
apartment, she hadn't even washed the blood from her body.  There was
something  she wasn't telling him, but he hardly cared.  There was
something just beneath the surface that needed to be said, but it was only
hers to say.  Nick didn't care at all.  She was alive, she was with him.
She would be with him . . . forever.
	They'd just walked away from that compound leaving Vachon behind.  Nick
didn't interfere anymore with what happened. He realized as she stood there
dripping with blood that  intereferring is exactly what brought this all
on.  It was what started the ball rolling, as it were.  	
	It made her hate.
	He smiled a little bit.  What a fucking crazy story to tell Roman when he
saw him again.
	She suddenly looked up at him and sighed.  "Nick, I'm starving."
	He offered her the bottle in his hand and she walked slowly over to the
table and sat next to him.  She leaned forward, resting her head on the
table.  Taking the bottle from his hand she sipped it.  Oh god, she thought
as she swallowed the cold blood, this is just disgusting.  "How do you
drink this everyday?"
	Nick laughed.  "You get used to it.  It's an acquired taste."
	Tracy straightened, smiled,  and pushed the bottle back towards him.
"Maybe I'll acquire it later."
	"You've certainly got the time." He winked at her.
	She stood, taking his hand and leading him to her bed.  It was dressed in
dark red silk, and black velvet. Very dramatic and romantic as she'd always
felt it should be.  And fittingly, that blond haired man who'd always
shared this bed in her dreams was looking up at her now.
	" . . . Tracy . . ." Nick whispered as she turned to look at him.  "My
god, you're really here."
	"I was about to say the same thing to you."
	She was suddenly in his arms, resting her head against his chest.  Nick.
God, she didn't know how much she missed him. 
	How much she needed him, especially now.  
	Too much time wasted, too much gone by with no getting it back.  She
wasn't about to let opportunity pass her by again.  Even if she had
eternity now . . . . 
	"How do you feel?"  He asked softly.  
	She sat on the bed, looking at him. "I don't feel any different." She
paused. "Well, that's not exactly true.  I feel stronger, I feel faster --
I can feel the all the new things I can do." She smiled.  "But I still feel
like me.  Tracy Vetter still lives in this body.  I don't feel any monster
or evil in me. I don't feel like a hunter, a predator. I feel . . . mostly
human."  She said with a smirk.  
	"Whatever you may be now, I still see Tracy." He took her hands in his.
"I see the woman who threw a file folder of paperwork back in my face and
told me to stuff it.  I see  the woman I fell in love with.  "
	Tracy burst out laughing.  "My god." She tapped her chest,  it sounded
hollow. No heartbeat.  "I'm still in here. How long will that last?"  Her
voice was hauntingly sad.  "How long can I stay in this body?  Do you know
what I have to consume to survive now?"
	He was fairly sure he didn't want to know.
	Nick leaned toward her suddenly claiming her mouth. He leaned further
still,  pressing her back into the mattress.  "Let's not worry now. Let's
think about all that tomorrow.  We don't really know what will happen in
the future, and I don't care. So long as you'll let me go with you."
	Tracy smiled, holding his face in her hands.   "My god, what took you so
long?"
	Nick laughed  deeply and kissed her again.
	Tracy bared her teeth at him, seeing  the same on his face.  He kissed her
again and trailed down to her neck.  She closed her eyes.   Her heart beat
harder,  and she felt at peace for a brief moment.  
	Nick. 
	Thank you for giving him back to me.
	She wanted to cry.  They'd lost three years, and a month ago she would
have given anything to have that back.  Now, she would cry because they had
the rest of eternity to just be together.  It was a gift, but one that came
with strings.  Heavy, binding, unbreakable strings.  
	She slowly sank her teeth into his neck, feeling her hunger for both
nourishment and release rolled together.  One thing Vachon was right about
was that  whatever blood you tasted first, you'd crave forever.   She
swallowed a moutful of Nick's blood and heard him sigh in pleasure.  
	She could fell how much he loved her, how much he'd missed her. How
nothing else mattered to him, aside from right here, right now.  
	This was the blood that would feed her forever.

	She could live with that.


the end



carly


well?




 Lore8132  
	~~IM : Lore8132~~  OR   ~~ Adon2581~~
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