Another Reality

by Olivia Jean Ecklund
Chapter 1

I'd like to thank Lorelei Sieja for beta correcting this story. It was an honor to have her tackle my story and for the comments and suggestions made by beta readers, CC, Margie, Elise and Betsy. It was all very helpful in making this the best it can be. Permission granted to archive at Mel's fanfic site. All others please inquire. A Nick, Nat romance, in another reality... No infringement of any one rights intended.

****Please send all your comments to me: Gersnightlady@cs.com****



The Coroner of Toronto, Nick Lambert, emptied a plate of half eaten Birthday cake into a waste receptacle in his Autopsy room.

Don Schanke, his lab assistant, slapped him on the back. "Well Nicky old boy, another year older. When are you going to find that special woman? You're not getting any younger."

Nick sighed and ran his hands through his curling blond hair. Don had a way of making him feel like life was passing him by. "Thanks for the party, Don..." he said, then added with a grin, "... and the red silk boxers." What he would ever do with them was beyond him.

Schanke grinned at him. "Those are to dazzle that special woman with."

"Right! Go on, get out of here," Nick ordered. "Thanks again."

"Think nothing of it, pal. Well, I guess I'd best do just that and get on home. Myra's waiting and I always have to take two showers before I touch her. She hates it that I work on dead people." He pulled off his lab coat and flung it across the room. He was out of the door before it hit his desk chair and slid to the floor.

Nick sighed, went and picked the coat up and hung it on the chair. He looked around the room at his shinny equipment and autopsy tables. He was about to go get his long tan duster and go home when the door suddenly burst open. Grace Reese, an EMT, came into the room pushing a gurney before her. She was a big, honey brown woman. She wore a white baseball hat turned backwards on her head. Her shirt was tucked into the black work pants, accentuating her larger, full figured size. She was one of Nick's favorite people. She always had a warm smile, laughing eyes and lots of funny things to say even when things got rough.

"Still here, birthday boy?" she asked.

Nick took in the body bag on the gurney and the generous amount of blood that seemed to be pooled around the bag on the gurney.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Bomb victim. A woman. Witnesses said she seemed to fly into the building. She grabbed a small boy, tossing him out the window to safety just moments before a bomb went off."

"Bomb," Nick said, his heart flipping into his throat. The messy ones had been getting to him lately. He had been wondering if Forensic Medicine had been the best choice for his life's career. The night shift seemed to weigh heavily on him lately. Schankee was right. He needed to find someone to love to share his life. This was a very solitary, lonely life.

He went forward, grabbed the end of the body bag and Grace grabbed the other. They transferred it to the autopsy table. The blood dripped down the sides of the table. She backed away, "I'm going to take the other gurney down the hall. I'll let you clean this one up."

"Thanks Grace," Nick said dryly.

"Happy Birthday!" she said, turning away and making a fast retreat.

"Yeah Happy Birthday." He called after her retreating derriere. "Well so much for a hot shower and bed," he muttered to himself.

He went to get some rubber gloves. As he pulled one on the phone rang. "Thank God, a reprieve," he whispered.

"Lambert here," he said into the phone, then listened. "Captain Stonetree. Yes, Grace just brought her in. No, not yet....I know. I'm prepared to work for a few more hours...."

Nick did not notice that the pooled blood suddenly went into motion. It collected together and ran back up the sides of the table and seemed to be soaked up by the body bag like a sponge.

"...Thanks, Captain. "0h yeah, ....that's okay Cap, it's my job....no, no plans, just me and the dog. I'll let you know when I get some sort of identifying marks or info. Bye."

He hung the phone up and walked toward the bag. Unzipping it, he spread the sides open and took a surprised gasp. Inside was not the torn, devastated face he had expected to see. This face that he peered down into was the face of an angel. Porcelain white, dark long lashes lay against flawless, alabaster skin. A perfect nose and ruby red lips made her beautiful beyond words. Her face was framed by rich brunette hair in thick wavy curls.

She was beautiful, her face marred only by smudges of ash.

He stared at her in confusion. He looked around. Was someone playing a trick on him? He reached out the hand that didn't have a glove yet and touched the smooth skin. It was soft and smooth and very cool. No living person was that cold.

He turned back to the phone to call Grace's cell phone. "Grace, are you sure this is the right body?" he asked when she answered. "There's hardly a mark on her."

Grace said, "You must be tired, Nick. I could hardly tell it was a woman. Put her on ice and go get some sleep. Bye."

Suddenly a movement caught Nick's attention. "What the hell!" he exclaimed, dropping the phone. It clattered loudly against the wall.

The once dead patient was sitting up on the autopsy table looking around. Piercing amber eyes seemed to nail him to the wall, when her eyes rested on his.

"You were dead," he accused her.

She glanced at him, pulled her legs out of the bag and swiveled, hopping off the table. Her cloths were a bit tattered and she drew the pieces of blood stained cloth about her. Her amber eyes scanned the room. She grabbed his tan duster and shrugged into it.

Nick could feel his heart beating in his throat but he managed to find his voice. "What are you?" His voice came out in a strangled whisper.

The woman glanced at him, not detecting any fear, only excitement. "Something very different from you," she said in a voice so sensual and musical that it sang to his soul.

She turned away now and he found he was disappointed and afraid she would go. Yet he watched fascinated as she searched and found the blood bags he had stored in the frig. She turned again and glared at him. He noticed that there were two perfectly white pointed fangs resting against her ruby lips. She raised the blood bag and pierced it with the fangs and drank until the bag was drained. She did the same with two more bags of blood. He noticed that her fingers were long and thin, the same porcelain white as her face. Her fingers where tipped with red pointed finger nails.

He found his strength and pushed himself away from the cold wall. He took a few steps forward. "What are you?" he asked again.

She met his gaze and said, "I am a vampire." Her deep, sensual voice made his knees weak. She moved toward him.

"A vampire," he said, awed by her beauty. He reached out to touch her face.

She grabbed his hand, her fingers where like steel. She turned his wrist away and pressed the back of his hand against her face."

"You're so cold," he whispered.

"I'm dead," she said.

"No, you're not. You're not dead. I see death everyday. Whatever you are, it's not death."

She released his wrist and a long white finger reached toward him. The sharp nail tip came closer and closer.

He forced himself to remain still and stared bravely back at her. She deflected her nail and a smooth finger tip caressed his cheek and along his jaw line. His eyes closed and he suddenly felt her move closer. Her coolness complimented the heat that was now radiating from his body. His senses felt on overload.

"What's happening?" he managed to whisper.

He felt her hand sliding along his jaw line down his neck and around to come up and bury itself into his hair at the back of his neck. Her cool breasts where pressed against his chest.

He opened his eyes to find himself only inches from her face. Her eyes now glowed red and he felt her drawing him closer, her white fangs dazzled and fascinated him. He felt her other hand on his chest. His body quivered with excitement and long buried passion. She smelled of jasmine and rose.

Suddenly cool lips touched his. Desire overwhelmed him and he slipped his arms around her, holding her against him, crushing her lips with his. His mind screamed at him. "What are you doing? She said she was a Vampire!"

There was a tingle at the base of his brain. He could feel it spreading. His hand slipped back and into the glorious mane of rich auburn hair. He deepened the kiss. Her cool tongue slipped between his lips. His tongue danced with hers. She tasted of copper, not of salt.

She drew away suddenly even as he fought to hold onto her. Her fangs scraped against his lips. She nipped at his lip and drew it outward before it slipped from her light grip. She smiled, flashing the perfect white fangs. He felt the tip of her finger running along his jugular and his body quivered with desire for this amazing creature.

There was a momentary pain and he felt the tip of the fingernail cut into the skin on his neck. Then a warm trickle of blood ran down his neck. She had nicked his skin, but not deep enough to cut into the large vein. She was pulling him forward again. He closed his eyes and came into her embrace. He pushed the duster and the scraps of her clothing away from her shoulder at the base of her neck and kissed the soft skin there. He trailed a bunch of soft kisses along her shoulder and neck. He was surprised to hear a low moan of pleasure escape her lips.

"What's your name?" he asked, as he left a trail of kisses down her jaw line.

"Natasha," she said.

He felt her cool tongue against his neck as she lapped at the trickle of warm blood.

His blood was so pure and so innocent that she drew back, searching his eyes. He was looking into hers without fear. His eyes were full of wonder and trust. She pushed against his chest abruptly, breaking his hold on her. "No!"

Nick stumbled back confused. "Wh..a..t?" he stuttered.

"Do you want to die!" she hissed at him. "Do you want me to drain you of your life?"

He stepped closer.

"Stay away," she warned, "I cannot control myself right now. I will kill you if I taste your blood again."

He stood shocked and dazed. She took a deep breath then came swiftly forward and grabbed his face between her hands. "Look into my eyes," she commanded. "You will not remember this or what I am."

The pressure and tingle at the base of his brain grew. "No," he cried to himself, "I cannot forget, I won't!" But he said aloud, "I will not remember you or what you are." He stood still as if in a trance.

She leaned forward. With trembling lips, she kissed his softly and then caressed his cheek with one of her long, cool fingers. "Why didn't I meet you 800 years ago," she whispered.

Then suddenly there was a blast of cold air against his face. He blinked and she was gone.

He stumbled back. The rush of adrenaline faded now leaving him weak. He bumped against his desk and sat hard upon a pile of papers, scattering them across the floor.

"I could have died, yet she didn't kill me," he thought. Something wondrous had passed between them. Nicholas Lambert desired only one thing. He wanted more than anything in his life to see Natasha again.

Chapter 2

Nick hadn't slept all day, his mind was so wound up. He couldn't stop thinking about the woman who'd suddenly come to life, rising from his autopsy table the night before. After she had left he'd gotten a blinding headache. She had tried to do something to make him forget, but it hadn't worked.

Every time he closed his eyes he could see nothing but her face, feel her touch, taste her lips. It invaded his mind and would give him no peace. As he lay there thinking he realized no matter what she had said she might do to him, she'd risked herself for a child. There was goodness inside of her and sadness.

He had felt her despair as she had kissed him expressing her wish that they had met, what was it, 800 years earlier? Could she have really lived that long? She didn't look over 25.

He felt his body respond to the thought of her lips and fingers. He groaned and rolled off the bed. Thinking of her would do no good. He would probably never see her again. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. He would take a walk, a long walk to clear his head. He still had a few Hours before work.

As he strode to the front door he heard clicking toenails scatter across the wooden floors of the apartment. He smiled down at the small black dog that came flying around the corner from the kitchen. The dog bounced up and down tickling his knee. He bent and scooped the animal up and hugged the small dog to his chest. "Want to go for a walk, boy?"

The small dog's rich brown eyes looked into his. His little tongue came out and licked his own small black lips.

Nick smiled. He knew this was the dog's "yes." "Okay boy, let's go watch the sun go down."

He took a leash from the rack by the front door and slipped it onto the dog's collar. He carried him down the steps and out onto the sidewalk before placing him on the concrete on his short stubby legs.

"Come on Beast, let's go to the park." The dog started to run ahead forcing Nick to run after him down the street. Beast was a small Chihuahua Terrier mix. Black with a thick short body and wide little head with huge pointed ears. His hair was a longish variety. His face was now white with age but the ran and played like a pup. Nick had had him for 10 years now.

Richard, Nick's brother, had a dog named Beauty, so he just thought it would be fun to call his Beast. Nick smiled as he watched the little dog's short legs eat up the sidewalk. The dog was curious about everything and made a point of marking their path down the street.

They headed toward the park. The huge orange globe of the sun was just slipping below the horizon.

Nick let his thoughts drift back to his visitor of last night. She must be some where in this city. Where could she be? They'd reached the park now and Nick bent to undo the dog's leash. Beast scampered off dashing from tree to tree, but always keeping his master in sight.

They wondered through the night into the moonlight park. Nick stood on the path as Beast dashed in and out of the bushes hoping to flush out a squirrel.

Suddenly Nick realized a woman was coming toward him. His heart skipped a beat and a sweat broke out on his face. It was Natasha. She was dressed in casual clothing and looked like any other normal woman might out for a brisk walk in the early evening.

Nick forced himself to continue toward her. The vision of her fangs flashed through his mind and made him shiver in anticipation.

She barely glanced at him as she passed him. There was a slight flash of her eyes as they met his briefly.

He walked past her a step or two. She wasn't going to say anything. He stopped and turned. "You're testing me...." He found that she'd also turned to look at him. "...to see if I've forgotten," he finished.

"I see you haven't."

"I don't want to. I won't!" he said defiantly.

She came close. "This knowledge you hold can be very dangerous. There are others who would kill you."

Nick reached up to wipe the fresh sweat from his face. Beast came from the bushes, and barked at the strange woman with his master.

"Beast, stop, sit," he commanded.

The little dog barked again a couple times and Nick pointed to him, "Sit." Beast sat, watching the woman closely.

Ignoring the dog, Natasha had stepped around Nick and was now close to him.

He could feel her coolness against his back.

"I'll take my chances," he said.

"I could kill you." she stated in a low sensuous voice.

"..but you won't," he said. He now felt her hand sliding up his back. Her cool fingers slipped to his side and along his ribcage under his arm, and over his chest. He wanted to lean back against her and feel her fangs in his neck. Surrender himself to her.

"How do you know?" she asked. "I'm a vampire. I'm evil."

"You're not evil." he said, looking over his shoulder into her face.

She spun him around so quickly that he nearly lost his balance. Her iron grip on his arm steadied him.

Beast started to growl low in his chest.

"Quiet boy," Nick whispered to the dog.

The little dog sat back on his haunches and watched.

"Natasha, you saved a human child. That's how you ended up on my table in a body bag."

She was glaring at him with amber eyes. One of her cool hands snaked over and up his chest. "I am what I am. 800 years of searching and wishing other wise can't change this. I choose to embrace the darkness."

He studied her face and was surprised to see pain and regret there. He reached out a hand and cupped her cheek and chin. "You desire to be human," he stated simply.

He was amazed to see a blood red tear slip from her eye and down her cheek toward his thumb.

He caught it on his thumb as he caressed her cheek. She seemed to respond to his gentleness. Her eyes closed and when her eyes opened they where a deep blue color.

"It is futile to dwell on it. I can not be disappointed again."

An idea stirred in him. "I could try. I am a doctor trained in microbiology. Have you tried modern medicine?"

She looked at him unable to disguise the hope.

"No I have not allowed myself to be experimented on since the '800's."

Nick blinked. She'd said she was 800 years old. The stories and experiences she could tell him about!

"I will try if you will allow it. I can make no promises."

She stared so long into his eyes that he felt drawn to her. He leaned over and gently kissed her upturned lips. He was pleased when she responded to his kiss.

Beast barked and Nick pulled back and looked at the little dog. A whoosh of cold air assaulted him and when he looked back she was gone.

An overwhelming loneliness washed over him.

As he bent to pick up his little friend, he sighed and turned back toward his apartment. The warm little body of the dog gave him some comfort. He pressed his lips against the animal's soft cheek. When would he ever see the beautiful Vampire named Natasha again?

End Chapter 2


By Jeannie Ecklund Gersknightlady@cs.com





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