Natalie's Toga Party
by Kathy Walsh 


Well, you know the drill… I don't own the characters, the situations,
not even the togas!!!!  I promise to take care of them, though, and
I'll have them dry-cleaned and back by Monday.  Honest.

Itsy-bitsy spoiler for "Be My Valentine"

Sorry, Knighties…  Nick acts kind of stupid here…

Permission is hereby granted to all -- Valentines especially -- to
archive on your sites.  Please send me the URLs, though, so I can
admire my newfound fame ;-)

This ain't beta-read, folks, so all errors are mine, MINE, MINE!!!!!

Warning… feel-good mushy at the end… ;-)

Comments, invitations, and toga patterns to Kathy Walsh at
Piccolo_Kathy@hotmail.com   This is my first completed FK fanfic
(I am in the middle of a couple others), so please be gentle.

This is before AtA, etc.

Almost a year after "Be My Valentine"…

Natalie's Toga Party
By Kathy Walsh

Natalie Lambert was feeling really perky.   she thought wryly.  Normally, she wasn't such a
Caffeine Queen -- that title went hands-down to Tracy Vetter -- or
quite this wired, but today was an exception.  Valentine's Day was
two days from now, and she was throwing a party.  An all-girls toga
party, almost like the one her Latin class in college had thrown.
Except this time there wouldn't be any egotistical young guys trying
to show off their chest hair (or lack thereof).  Somehow, she'd
gotten the use of a warehouse that was currently empty.  It was a
great place for a party -- lots of space, only two (albeit enormous)
windows, and (best of all) a HUGE padlock on the door to keep
annoying males out.  Of course, it WAS winter in Canada, so she
made sure to bring plenty of space heaters.

As she moved her 12-foot ladder over to hang more fake pillars, she
hummed a tune.  With a start, she realized it was a song that had
played on the radio the night LaCroix had bought out the Azure
restaurant for just the two of them.  She wasn't supposed to remember
that night, but she was a "resister" and couldn't be whammied that
easily.  "Oops!" she giggled, as one of the majestic columns
(decorated old shower curtains taken from Grace's house) fell on her
head.  Two days and lots of decorating left to do!  It was going to be
a long day.

*       *       *
 thought Detective Nick Knight.  More
bloody bodies at a crime scene, and he hadn't "eaten" in a long time.
He stood at the edge of the sidewalk and tried to look away.  He saw
Dr. Lambert finish up her cursory examination of the corpses and
bounce over to his partner, Tracy.  The women talked for a while, and
then Natalie's assistant Grace (who was working with them again)
came over to join the discussion.  Soon, they had gathered all the
women on the scene in their little group.  Natalie was handing out
cards that, with Nick's vampire-assisted eyesight, looked remarkably
like invitations.  Nick hadn't been to a party (at least, a good
party) in quite a while, so he looked eagerly at his "friend" as she
sashayed in his direction.  Right past him.  Without so much as a
"hello" to her vampire buddy.  It was definitely going to be a long
night.

Back at the station, Natalie was handing out invitations right and
left to almost every woman she saw.  'Ah ha!' thought Nick.
  "We'll see how long that lasts," he
mumbled, hurt that he would be excluded from her party.  If she
wasn't going to invite him, he was going to invite himself!  A
sinister grin spread across the homicide detective's face.  AND
he was going to invite some OTHER people, too!

*       *       *
Still feeling the effects of the morning's coffee, Natalie stepped
inside the nightclub/vampire stomping ground known as the
Raven.  She was looking for someone…  "Ah, ha!  There she is!"
exclaimed the forensic pathologist, and headed towards the bar.
Urs sat to one side, nursing a drink.  Natalie gave her a friendly
wave -- Tracy had promised to give the young vampire an
invitation, preferably without alerting Vachon to the party's
existence -- then moseyed over to the other end of the counter.
There she was -- Janette DuCharme, former owner of the Raven
and almost as mischievous of a flirt as Nick.  Nat had never heard
the whole story, but apparently it had been Janette who had
"convinced" Nick to be brought across.  The young doctor suspected
it hadn't taken much "convincing."

Both vampires heard her coming long before she got there, and so they
were turned around, waiting to hear her message.  Well, Janette was
waiting.  Nick seemed to be trying to control himself -- his fangs
were way, way out and his eyes were a bright gold.   mused Natalie evilly, but for some
reason, she didn't really care.

"Janette, may I have a word?"

They knew each other?!!  Nick looked positively bewildered,
like the proverbial deer in the headlights -- except that these
headlights belonged to a Mack truck hauling explosives and
moving toward him at 70 miles per hour on the wrong side of
the road.  The vampire and the doctor moved quickly toward the
back rooms of the nightclub.  Hurried words passed between them,
resulting in the transfer from Nat to Janette of a fairly good-sized
bunch of the invitations that had been nosing their way into Nick's
day.  Parting with anticipatory grins on both sides (Janette's was
toothier), the women went their separate ways.

"Now, Nicolas, where were we?"

Maybe it wasn't going to be such a long night after all.

*       *       *       *
Putting the finishing touches on the warehouse decorations, Natalie
smiled proudly.  What had once been a storage space for pink toy
bunnies had now become a grand Roman villa.  There were times
Natalie was glad she had taken that boring course in interior design.
 gloated the
young coroner.  Ah, yes.  She couldn't wait until tomorrow night.

*       *       *
Nick hadn't been able to find out from anyone what this party was
about (in other words, why he wasn't invited)  -- not even from
Janette!  He had, however, managed to pilfer one of Natalie's
invitations -- he returned it later, of course, he wasn't stupid
enough to face her wrath  -- and found out the place and time.
More than that, he had discovered the dress code: togas.  He had an
idea….

*       *       *
Tracy, Grace, and Natalie spent most of their time after work
preparing the food for the party.  
Natalie thought, into her second cappuccino in the past ten minutes.
She would never have been able to get the recipes had it not been for
her painstaking e-mails to people she hadn't heard from in years.
Nat had put a lot into this party.

Natalie Lambert had always wanted to show off her semi-formidable
sewing skills, and now she got a run for her money.  She was
surprised to find that Tracy was an amazing seamstress.  The blonde
detective had explained that her parents "practically gave me away to
the Girl Guides," so she had put a lot of effort into doing something
to impress them -- like being the best young costume designer in the
province.  Lo and behold, Det. Vetter had a toga pattern.  Naturally,
the two women had sewn furiously throughout the past month to
get everyone's clothing finished.  These invitations they had been
handing out were just reminders to "bring your toga."

Finally, it was time to turn in.  "No more coffee for you, Lambert.
You need SLEEP.  Party's tomorrow!!!"  Nat bounded into her
room and leaped onto the bed.  "Aahhh."  She relaxed.

*       *       *       *
Valentine's Day.  Practically everyone on the precinct's night shift
had taken the night off.  In a villa that outwardly looked just like
the warehouse it really was, approximately sixty women were
gathered in togas, listening to ancient music turned up "too loud"
and eating (at least, the mortal women were).  The food was a
welcome break from all the pink sugar cookies that had been
circulating through the world in the past week.  As a matter of fact,
the colors pink and red were expressly banned, to the apparent
frustration (but actual enjoyment) of a couple of redheads.  Natalie
wouldn't take the "orange" argument -- "It's wigs for you two!" she
cried with glee, and produced wild green hairpieces left over from
Halloween.  Not just doctors attended -- there were vampires,
policewomen, nurses, and a teacher or two.  Single, married,
undead -- who cared?  All that mattered was that Natalie
Lambert, M.E., sure as heck knew how to throw a theme party!!!!!

The sixty male vampires from the Raven standing outside the warehouse
in their togas tended to agree.  Especially Lucien LaCroix, who
looked to be having the time of his life -- or undeath -- watching
the ladies attempt ancient Roman dances -- particularly the one who
seemed to be throwing the party and was actually pretty good.   Nick reflected underneath his black silk
toga, 

*       *       *       *       *
Nick had spent the night before Valentine's Day convincing all the
male vampires to stay at the Raven for the day.  Once everyone was
assembled -- everyone except LaCroix, that is -- on the dance floor,
he explained his plan.  Nick had bought lots and LOTS and LOTS
of black silk material, thread, and needles.  Each vampire was to
make himself a toga.  Screed, the carouche, had to point out a slight
problem in the ex-Crusader's plan: no one knew HOW to make a toga.
The vampires sat on the floor, confused.

Finally, LaCroix came down the hall and joined the group.  After a
good, hearty laugh at their predicament, the ancient general
proceeded to explain how to make a toga.  "As Roman soldiers, by
the time we actually wore something besides our armor, the something
in question was either severely soiled or too decrepit in some other
way for us to wear it.  Hence, the Emergency Toga."  As he guided
the vampires through the steps of creating an Emergency Toga, he
had Nick stand lookout.  It WOULD NOT do for the owner of the
Raven, the oldest vampire in Toronto, to be seen sewing along with
his entire male clientele.  At long last, the men were done.  LaCroix
gave the toga he had been working on to Nick and disappeared as
the sun started to set.

Det. Knight, clad in the black toga, followed his master into the
elder vampire's office.

"Listen, LaCroix, you really have to come with us to crash this
party.  It'll be fun!  I mean, just think of all the ladies in togas
that will be there.  And --"

"Nicholas!" interrupted the patriarch.  "You don't need to convince
me.  I'm coming already."

Lucien LaCroix, general of the Roman Army, appeared in the doorway.
He was resplendent in his white silk toga and Roman-style sandals.
If Nick had been female, he probably would have swooned.  The
Roman smiled predatorily at him.  "Shall we go?"

*       *       *       *       *
"On three," commanded the former general.  "One, two, THREE!"

Having previously snapped the padlock, Lucien LaCroix and his black-
toga-clad followers swept into the warehouse like a flash flood of ink
with a candle at the front.  Some of the women screamed in surprise,
but Natalie was quick to the attack.  "Ladies!  After them!"

The battle lines clashed.  In no time at all, the men had (according
to Nick's plan) swept their female of choice into their arms and
danced off.  Nick, seeing Janette, forgot about Natalie and went
straight after her -- of course, the vampire didn't complain.
Natalie found herself in the strong arms of a male vampire IN A
WHITE TOGA!  She tensed.

"Just relax, my dear.  Do you surrender?"

Natalie grinned mischievously at the master vampire.    "That all depends the terms."

She had expected a threat, something along the lines of, "I give you
your life if you give up."  Instead, she was swept across the room in
a grand waltz.  He was an excellent dancer.  Finally, LaCroix said
with a slight smile, "If you will let your people join with mine, we
can have a much better time."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He found himself looking down into her soft brown eyes.  He didn't
say what his conscious mind meant to say; he said what his heart
(which wasn't as cold as he liked to believe) meant to say.  "It
means that I will teach your friends the REAL way to dance
Roman-style if you will dance with me."  

Nat opened her mouth to say, "I have been teaching them well enough,
and why would I want to dance with YOU?  You're a monster."  But she
didn't believe it.  All that came out was a quiet, "Sure."

"Pax, then, Dr. Lambert?"

"Peace, Mr. LaCroix.  And it's Natalie."  She couldn't believe it.
She was declaring a truce with the man who had tormented Nick,
tormented her, all these years.

The general grinned kindly at her.  He was really beginning to like
this woman.  His son Nick didn't appreciate her half as much as she
deserved….  "Please.  Call me Lucius.  It's my real first name."

  She couldn't believe this,
either.  The man Nick had hated (or at least disliked) for so long
had the cutest smile she had ever seen….

He felt her relax into his arms.  He gazed dreamily into her deep
brown eyes and willed himself not to turn into a puddle of Roman
vampire goo on the spot.

The CD had ended, but the doctor and the general continued to waltz.
To the other attendees, the couple looked like they were never going
to stop.  The partygoers looked at each other questioningly and
considered their options.  Some of the more "macho" vampires had to
go outside "for some fresh air" and some of the women, Tracy
included, hit the green punch -- hard.  Most of the people, however,
just stood and watched the curmudgeonly Roman general and the
sarcastic Canadian doctor dance.

Nicolas deBrabant (a.k.a. Nick Knight) was shocked.  From the time
he had been brought across until this very same day, he had never
seen his "father" behave this way -- not even with Fleur, his sister,
who was supposedly LaCroix's only love.  He felt peace, tranquility,
and happiness over the link he shared with his master.  It was
written clearly on both LaCroix and Natalie's faces that they were
not going to come back to this world for a while.

"I have you all to myself now," whispered Janette in a voice so low
only Nicholas could hear.  Nick realized it was true.  Nat was not
going to want to watch cheesy movies and eat popcorn after this.
He sighed.  It didn't seem fair.  LaCroix had stolen his sister and
now stole his best friend and love interest -- what was he supposed
to do?    Janette felt the guilt wash over Nick.  It was
almost visible.  She knew how to handle it, though.  A little under
800 years of experience with Nick had taught her that.  A quick peck
on the cheek, something sweet whispered in French, and she led him
out the front door for a talk.

The white-togaed couple still danced.  Someone had put in another
CD, and they began a very ancient step he promised to teach her….

"You never did teach anyone else how to dance, Lucius," commented
Natalie.

LaCroix didn't want to let go.  "Later.  I'll teach them later."
Natalie smiled.

The white silk of their togas whispered a more modern -- and more
ancient -- love song as they danced together…

//Hopelessly devoted to you…//

… into forever.