Background: Although this story isn't a direct sequel to "Repayment", the two do go together fairly well, so if you want to mentally throw them into the same universe, go ahead. I wrote this with the end of the second season in mind, but you're free to put it anywhere you can make it fit.

Falling

by Time Jordan

Nick paced restlessly through his loft, mentally replaying the events of the evening. He had abandoned his earlier attempts to take solace in music. He couldn't sit still, couldn't concentrate. The loft was both hollowly empty and stiflingly claustrophobic. He needed to get out, to go somewhere else. He briefly considered going for a drive, then rejected the idea. That wasn't what he wanted. Instead, he opened the window and took off into the night sky.

The night was clear and the cold air was refreshing after the warmth of the loft. He hardly realized where he was going until the Raven came into sight, and then his destination seemed suddenly inevitable. He needed to talk to her, needed her reassurance and her unique perspective. Nat had spoken to him afterwards, had pointed out that he would have to adjust to certain things if he ever achieved that elusive goal of mortality. Mortality sometimes involved sacrifice, she had said. She had given him the mortal perspective, and now he needed the counterbalance which would allow him to maintain his precarious balance on this wire between two worlds.

He contemplated Nat's words as he landed beside the club. For all of her natural sincerity, he thought that it had really been a rather half-hearted speech. It seemed that lately he and Natalie had been drifting apart. They still joked together, were still friends, but the depth of feeling was no longer there. Natalie, he thought, was getting tired of waiting, was losing hope of finding a cure while she was still young enough for them to grow old together. She was never less than encouraging with him, but he could read her with eight centuries of experience in observing the subtleties of human behaviour, sharpened by this new emotional distance. It was in her tone when yet another attempt failed, in her posture as she recorded each new scrap of data, in her eyes when she proffered yet another drink. Natalie was running out of ideas. He also suspected that the ideal she had constructed in her dreams was becoming a little tarnished. Too many years of waiting, of being forced to rely on dreams for fulfillment had made the reality a little less appealing. He couldn't blame the slowly growing chasm entirely on her, though. He had noticed in himself a resurgence of old patterns of behaviour. The requisite emotional detachment of a being destined to outlive almost everyone he knew had resurfaced. It was not a skill he had ever been particularly good at, and that lack had been the cause of a great deal of pain for him over the years. He wondered briefly if he was finally mastering it, then pushed the thought aside as he entered the Raven. His attention focused entirely on the elegant woman on the other side of the loud, smoke-filled room--the other reason for his emotional withdrawal.

He paused at the entrance for a moment, savouring her presence and wondering how he could ever have forgotten how beautiful she was. She knew he was here, of course. He could not have disguised his approach even if he'd wanted to. It was an old game of theirs, this admiring from a distance. A reenactment of the old rules of courtly love, though with a far more satisfying conclusion than was ever granted to a knight and his Lady. It was one more step in the dance they had been conducting since he had first come to the club, three years after his arrival in Toronto. He had resisted for as long as possible, not wanting to disturb the delicate balance of his new life, not wanting to be tempted to return to a life he had sworn to leave behind. In the back of his mind he had known that it was only a matter of time. Why else come to Toronto, if not for her? If he had truly wanted to avoid her, he would have buried himself somewhere in Africa or Australia. Instead, he had allowed himself to be lured to this city by the faint strains of music, to continue the dance.

Janette felt the eyes on her, and knew at once who they belonged to. Only one person's gaze could evoke such warmth in her. She purposely avoided looking at him, letting her eyes drift casually across the club as though she were unaware of the intensity of his attention. Another step in the dance; more circling while the fire built. There was something odd about his attention tonight though, an undertone that hadn't been there before. A shift in their silent music. She sensed it at once when he finally approached her and drew her hand to his lips in a gesture reminiscent of times past.

"Bon soir, Nicolas. How do you like my new sound system? I just had it installed last week."

"It's very loud," he replied loudly.

"Oui, je sais. The mortals like it that way. With all of the new clubs in town, I decided I should upgrade."

"Keeping up with the competition?"

"Well, it wouldn't do to have the club populated entirely by our kind."

"Yeah, people might notice a club where no one ever came in or out. Especially if it was always full."

"Not to mention the cost. One advantage of mortal patrons is that they actually pay for their drinks. I do wish they didn't insist on improving their technology quite so quickly, though. Larry Merlin is insisting that my computer is out of date, and I only bought it two years ago."

He grinned. "Life's tough in the Information Age."

"So the newspapers claim. But then, they never lived through the Inquisition. Have things been *tough* for you lately, Nicolas?"

The grin disappeared. "In a manner of speaking. Something happened tonight, Janette."

"This sounds serious," she teased.

"It is." Dead serious now, with no undertone of humour. Janette studied him a moment.

"Did you kill someone?"

"No." Nick paused and glanced away from her, towards the twisting bodies veiled by smoke. He turned back. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

She nodded and led him away from the noise to her own rooms in the back.

The silence was startling after the music of the club. Janette opened the small fridge by the wall.

"Would you like something to drink, Nicolas?"

"No, thanks."

She poured a glass for herself and sat down on the couch, looking up at him expectantly. "So?"

He stared on a painting on the far wall. "I saved someone tonight. A child."

Janette relaxed slightly. "Is that all? I thought that's what police officers were supposed to do. To serve and protect." Nick continued to look silently at the painting as if mesmerized by the play of colour on canvas.

"But of course, there's more to it than that," she said. "What happened?"

"A boy fell from a balcony. I caught him." Such a small incident, and yet so very important. They had been at a crime scene. Yet another innocent dead, another unique, potentially marvelous intersection of all of the phenomena of the universe wasted. Standing over the body, a faint sound had caught his attention. He had followed it around to some balconies overlooking an ally. His sudden departure had drawn a curious look from Natalie, but Schanke had been too busy conversing with a witness to even notice. He had looked up, almost convinced that he had imagined it, when he saw a fluttering movement high above. Then suddenly the boy was falling and he was in the air. He could still remember the solid feel of the child's small body in his arms as he caught him. He had returned the boy to his balcony, hypnotized him into forgetting the fall, forgetting the flying man, and added a warning about balcony safety for good measure. It was over. No forms to fill out, no reports to file. Just a six year-old boy asleep in his bed, and the knowledge that if he were anything other than what he was, that boy would now be dead.

"Ironic, that it take a vampire to save a mortal life."

"Yeah. I realized then that if I had succeeded in my quest, if I were mortal, I couldn't have saved him. I wouldn't even have heard him." He was used to people dying because of what he was. It had been that way for centuries. The idea that someone might be alive because of what he was was new. He'd felt a certain amount of wonder at the thought, and a touch of fear. It could so easily have been otherwise.

"You know the limitations of mortality, Nicolas. You live among them. You must have plenty of chances to observe it."

He looked towards her finally, his countenance serious, almost sombre.

"Natalie said something similar. She also pointed out that vampire or not, the boy would still have died if I hadn't happened to be there." If someone else hadn't died. Did that give their death meaning? Would their soul take comfort from that?

Janette looked away. "Perhaps you ought to listen to her, then." She refused to show him what it cost her to make that suggestion. It's his choice, she reminded herself sternly. She had never tried to be fair, to be honourable before. She had never realized that it was so hard.

"Nat said that limitations are something I'll have to accept if I become mortal again." He paused. "I'm not sure I can accept it. So many have died because of a choice I made eight centuries ago. I don't know if I could live with the knowledge that more died because of another choice of mine."

"Poor Nicolas. No matter what you do, you suffer. You must have learned by now that every choice has consequences. If you remain as you are...if you become what you were...there will be consequences...for you, for me, for Natalie."

"I know," he said quietly. He sat down beside her. "I've been thinking about that."

"Oh? And what have you concluded?"

"I don't know. This quest has been a part of me for so long, I'm not sure what I would do with myself if I gave it up. I need time to decide."

"Don't take too long, Nicolas. You may have an eternity, but Natalie does not. If you aren't going to try to become mortal in this lifetime, you should tell her. She deserves to have more in her life than an empty dream. She can't wait forever."

"I know," he repeated. "And you, Janette? How long will you wait?"

She took a sip from her glass and set it down on the table beside her. "As long as it takes."

He looked into her eyes, and she gazed back steadily. Pools of blue, so tempting to dive in and never resurface. He could feel himself faltering on the wire. It would be so easy to fall, knowing that she would be there to catch him...

"I'll try not to take too long," he said.

"Natalie will appreciate that," she replied. She broke their gaze and shifted around until she could lean against him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"Je t'aime, Nicolas. Whatever you decide."

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For giving me the choice."

end part 01/01

************************************
Time Jordan
Dark Knightie/Immortal Beloved

Comments, praise, and criticism are all welcome.