Tuesday, November 1, 1994

Jump to: [November 2]

Counterpoint
By Susan Garrett

It had gone well, or so she thought. Janette leaned back in her chair--very comfortable, these chairs--and waited for LaCroix to continue. He'd served as moderator for the meeting, but had been prevented from completely controlling the agenda by the others.

She, of course, had remained on the outskirts of the skirmishes, content to watch the fray.

"Then, we're agreed about these mortal 'Nightstalkers'?" asked LaCroix, as he glanced around the table. "Although I still think we should have the Enforcers eradicate--"

"No!" protested Natalie sharply, half-rising--but Nick placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back into her seat . . . and into her dress. "I won't agree to wholesale slaughter. And I can't say I disagree with their aims. You people do tend to disrupt lives, the way the mortal world should develop."

LaCroix leaned forward, hands clasped around his half-empty wine glass, his smile sharp. "So, you sympathize with them, do you?"

"This argument is pointless," said Dorian evenly, glaring at LaCroix. "We've agreed to watch them--and only watch them--until they become more strident or aggressive."

"I'd call killing off one of the list-members 'aggressive,'" countered Nick. "Do you mean we should wait until these people threaten 'us,' and just stand by while they kill off our mortal friends? Don't mortals count?"

Janette raised an eyebrow, seeing Natalie supportively place her hand over Nicola's at his comment. "As I told you," said Janette softly, "that was an aberration--even the group appears to have been shocked by that outrage."

"So, we watch," repeated Dorian, with a nod toward Natalie. "I would appreciate being kept informed of their movements."

"All right." Nick raised his chin defensively, then nodded after a moment. "We watch for any sign of trouble. And I'll go along with it if it means keeping the Enforcers out. We've got one of them working with us, but I think he'll want to keep this--and his involvement in it--off the record."

"Excellent." Dorian placed his hands flat on the table, beginning to rise. "I believe that concludes our business. If you'll excuse me, I have to attend to final arrangements for the interview--"

LaCroix reached out and caught Dorian's wrist. "A moment of your time--I think we have more to discuss on that matter."

Dorian looked down at the hand on his wrist, then at LaCroix. Janette could feel the chill from those cold eyes even where she sat, but LaCroix never flinched. He simply met Dorian's gaze with an even, almost casual glance. And it was only after Dorian looked away and seated himself again that LaCroix released him.

"The interview has been scheduled," announced Dorian. "You have no right to interfere. The Code--"

"I know the Code," countered LaCroix. "But you're interpreting the Code. The regulations on interviewing mortals are sketchy, at best."

Dorian shrugged dismissively. "It hasn't been necessary. If a mortal appeared to be a threat, and the local vampires didn't attend to it, the Enforcers would be called and--" He stopped in mid-sentence, then nodded toward Natalie again. "My apologies. I don't wish to offend."

"That's fact," answered Natalie, her voice steady despite her sudden pallor. "Facts don't offend me. They can scare the hell out of me . . . ."

"I wouldn't wish to frighten you, either."

"Wait a minute," said Nick, leaning forward and cutting Natalie off from Dorian's line of sight quite effectively. "Are you telling me that there's no basis on which he can interview Susan?"

"I understand why Janette would know--since my subject is one of her own, but . . . . How many know about this interview?" asked Dorian, his tone annoyed.

LaCroix smiled and held out his hands. "I would assume everyone. Word travels faster than the dead, in these parts."

"According to the Code, can he interview Susan?" Nick asked LaCroix.

"I can interview anyone I wish," countered Dorian fiercely.

"Almost anyone." LaCroix's correction was soft, but there was steel in his voice.

Dorian looked down at the table in front of him and placed his hands flat against the wood. "Yes," he said, in an even quieter voice. "Almost anyone." Then he looked up at Nick, his dark eyes showing the barest hint of red. "And I will interview this woman, whether she wishes it or not."

"I don't think Susan will object to being interviewed," said Janette quickly, thankful that Natalie had placed her hand on Nicola's arm and was whispering in his ear--she had a feeling he was about to do something very rash and very foolish. "In fact, I think she might appreciate the chance to actually meet with you."

Dorian seemed startled. "You've . . . told her of me?"

"She's written about you," corrected LaCroix. He leaned back in his seat, amused at Dorian's stunned expression. "She's written about all of us, upon occasion." Then he lowered his eyelids and regarded Dorian with a thoughtful expression. "Don't tell me your assistants failed to send you her fiction? Or even summarized portions--it can get quite lengthy at times." He shook his head. "I hardly think you're adequately prepared for this interview."

"So it would seem," said Dorian, after a pause. "My assistants have proven to be . . . less than capable."

"Ah, well, it is hard to get good help these days," commiserated LaCroix.

Natalie cleared her throat, getting both Dorian's and Nick's attention almost instantly . . . which caused her to blush slightly. "Does that mean you'll have to cancel the interview?"

"No. An interview cannot be canceled. This may . . . change the intent of it." Dorian steepled his fingers and stared at the point of his clasped hands thoughtfully. "As will our previous discussion. I'd been concerned that Janette's story-teller was aligned with these 'Nightstalkers.' It appears I was mistaken."

"Which means you may be 'mistaken' about other things," pressed Natalie. "I think you're too close to the problem to see it clearly. Susan's fiction, and the fiction written by the others, isn't a threat to you or to any of us. It's just 'fiction.' That's what the readers think."

"And if we, and others in the Community should know differently," said Janette quickly, "what can it matter? We all enjoy reading about ourselves. Well, most of us," she added, glancing at Nicola. "It amuses us. And if it amuses us and doesn't endanger us, what problem could it cause?"

"Still, I will interview her." Dorian nodded slightly. "I think our discussion will be . . . interesting."

"I want to be present," said Nicola forcefully.

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "You know no one else is permitted to be present during an interview. That's the Code--"

"LaCroix just said the Code doesn't cover this--"

LaCroix straightened in his chair, glaring across the table. "Nicholas, it would be better if you--"

"It would be better if someone was willing to stand up for Susan," he protested.

"And it's the knight-errant to the rescue again?" said LaCroix, his tone oozing sarcasm. "You have no claim on her. She's a Ravenette, not one of yours--"

"That's the point, isn't it?" Nick turned his angry gaze on Janette.

Just suppressing the urge to snarl back at him, Janette hissed, "Well, you do so well with your own, don't you? Your little friends have been causing me difficulties all evening. And now you want to protect one of my people when you can't even control your own?"

She froze as LaCroix reached out his hand and caught her arm. "Stop this senseless bickering," he said, his tone quiet, but strong. "It's beneath you--squabbling like children! She's only a mortal."

"Since she's only a mortal," asked Natalie, sharply, "maybe I should sit in on the interview? After all, I'm only a mortal, too."

There was silence for a moment. Nick managed a warning, "Nat--" but was cut off when she jabbed her elbow into his chest, her eyes still on Dorian.

And Dorian hadn't looked away from Natalie--in fact, Dorian hadn't looked at anything but Natalie for most of the meeting. "The Code says that no vampire may be present at another vampire's interview, or an interview with a mortal. A mortal at another mortal's interview, however--"

"No," said Nick quickly, placing his hand on Natalie's shoulder. When she tried to squirm away, he turned toward her. "I don't want you in here alone with him," he told her.

"Oh, for God's sake, Susan's going to be there--"

But Dorian waved away the matter. "No. It won't be allowed. And I'll remind you," he turned a steady gaze toward Nick, "that the punishments for interfering with an interview are quite severe. Even your Master won't be able to intervene for you." But then he frowned and glanced over at Janette. "However, this does appear to be an exceptional case. Janette, you're her master--"

"She's mortal," said Nick, glaring briefly at LaCroix before turning his attention back to Dorian, "she has no master."

Janette placed her palms flat on the table, the sound loud enough to get even Nicola's attention. "She follows me."

"Then if you wish to wait outside, if anyone wishes to wait outside," Dorian said, looking first at Janette, then at Nick, "to assure yourselves that no harm has come to her--I could allow that. I will not object to her interview being . . . overheard, as long as she permits it. Would you find that acceptable?"

Nick seemed surprised by the concession. He glanced over at Janette, then back at Dorian suspiciously. "Will the door be locked?"

LaCroix chuckled lightly. "Would it matter?"

"It might, to Susan."

Dorian paused. "The door will not be locked. But if anyone interrupts the interview without permission, for any reason--"

"Short of fire?" asked LaCroix.

Dorian ignored him, "--The penalty will be severe. I will demand a forfeit. Do you all understand?"

For whatever concessions he had given, for whatever weakness he had shown when momentarily corrected by LaCroix, Janette was suddenly reminded that Dorian was, indeed, the Archivist. She nodded solemnly, as did Nicola and Natalie. LaCroix simply waved his hand and yawned, as if bored.

"I believe that we're done with the business at hand," said LaCroix, rising to his feet. He moved to Janette and pulled the back of her chair away as she rose. Nicola did the same for Natalie, using his proximity and his body to block Dorian from attending to her.

"I do like the dress," said LaCroix to Natalie, over his shoulder, as Janette slid back the bolt from the door. "Very . . . revealing. Of your true nature."

Janette bit back a smile as she entered the tunnel, hearing Natalie's muttered, "I'll show him 'true nature'! Why don't we take him on a little trip down to the tuna hatchery some time--"


Close Encounters
By Sharon Himmanen

She eyed Ron and Susan warily at the top of the steps, then glanced over at the Cafe's other occupants. Two women sat in a back corner deep in conversation. In fact, they appeared to be arguing quite strenuously with each other. Another woman, a red head whom Sharon thought might be Sandra Grey was standing in the corner dividing her time between watching the two women, Ron and Susan, and Perri and her charges. Sharon really wanted to talk to Susan . . .

But Selma had to be her first priority, and so she turned toward the opposite corner of the room. It looked as though Dawn was still trying to escape from her bonds. And Selma was still out cold on the floor.

Setting the glasses down on a nearby table, she pulled the table cloth off of another and knelt down beside Selma, covering her. Then gently turned her head to get a close look at the wounds on her neck. It was just as she suspected and why she had wanted to get Selma away from the rest of the crowd. There were two puncture wounds on her neck. Selma had been bitten by a vampire.

Her color was pale, but not too pale, and her fingernails were still a healthy pink, so Sharon didn't think Selma had lost much blood. But the loss had been sudden, in addition to the shock of being attacked, and that might explain why she was out. At least, Sharon hoped that that was the case and that Selma wasn't in the process of coming across.

The thought made her insides churn as she checked Selma's pulse once again. There was a steady rhythm, but she was still worried, and under the circumstances, calling 911 was probably out of the question. What she needed was someone who knew a little bit more about these things than she did. But everyone who could legitimately help her was still downstairs in the meeting.

Almost everyone, that was, Sharon realized as she leaned back on her heels and looked back over her shoulder at Ron. He was sitting at the table with Susan, a satisfied smirk on his face as he sipped his half yard of ale. Feeling her gaze, he turned and fixed her with a heavy and cold stare, but that sharp smile never left his face.

Sharon swallowed, feeling cold sweat suddenly trickle down her back. Her mind briefly registered that this was fear sweat and she flashed briefly on her undergraduate physiological psychology with Marci where they'd learned about this stuff. Ron's sudden appearance during the last war had caused her to flee Nick's loft, not even caring if she incurred LaCroix wrath by doing so. Of course she had gone back after a brief discussion with LaCroix, and by that time Ron had thankfully left. She had not seen him since, and had rather hoped to avoid him altogether.

But right now he was her only option. She glanced quickly at Perri who was silently gazing at her and who realized her intent because she quickly mouthed the word "No!" to her. Sharon pretended not to understand her, and walked over to Ron and Susan.

As she approached the table she took a deep breath. "I was wondering . . ." she began.

The Enforcer looked up at her, raising one eyebrow and taking a slow sip of his beer.

"Um, Selma . . ." she gestured over her shoulder toward the corner. "She's . . ."

"Not in any danger," Ron finished for her. He suddenly rose. "I'll take a closer look, if you'd like," he said, his voice congenial, oily. "Why don't you sit with Susan for a few moments?"

"Huh?" Sharon asked, the sudden shift in topics unnerving her a bit. She took a step back. The wide grin Ron gave her could only best be described as shit-eating.

"You won't mind some company, would you Susan?" Ron asked, turning away from her, the smile slipping only slightly. Susan leaned back sharply at his expression. "Uh, no."

"Good," Ron said, holding out his chair for Sharon. "I'll only be a few minutes."

She waited until Ron was on the other side of the room and talking to Perri before she leaned forward and hissed at Susan. "Where have you been?" She had no doubt that Ron could hear every word.

Susan's smile faded, then she frowned. "With Nick. He asked me to wait here."

"Why'd you just disappear like that?" She stopped suddenly, taking in the enormous and beautiful ball gown Susan was wearing. "And why are you dressed like that?"

"Because I have this . . . this interview." Susan was beginning to look disturbed.

"He's here!" Sharon said. Then she leaned back and frowned. "At least I think he's here. They're in a meeting."

"Who's here? Dorian?"

"Yeah. Which is why *you* shouldn't be here."

Sharon didn't like the anxious expression on Susan's face as she looked at her. Shaking her head as if puzzled, Susan started to say something, but stopped abruptly. Instead, she asked "What's wrong with her?" motioning with her head toward the corner where Ron was leaning over Selma examining her wounds.

Sharon scowled deeply, deciding to let the obvious shift in subjects pass for the moment and set her mouth a grin line. "She got bitten." Sighing, she continued. "I don't think he took much blood. I just wanted Ron to make sure she isn't coming across."

If anything this seemed to disturb Susan even more. "Somebody bit her?" she asked, a disgusted look on her face. "Why would someone do something like that?" Then, staring at a glass Ron had left at the table, she added, "And he drank some of her blood? What? Does he think he's a vampire or something?" Susan asked incredulously.

Sharon turned and frowned at her. "What?"

Suddenly, Susan paled. "This Dorian . . . is he the one who did this? There's a police detective here and . . . " Her eyes widened. "He's a serial killer or something, isn't he?" Sharon stood slowly, realizing that something was very, very wrong. She didn't even hear Ron approaching her until he put a hand on her arm and spun her around to face him. He was still grinning although his eyes sparkled angrily and Sharon had an insane desire to run away. Ron seemed to have that effect on her. They stared at one another for a second, then Ron looked sideways at Susan who was gazing at them with wide, frightened eyes. "No, Dorian wasn't the one who hurt Selma," he said, trying to calm her. "It was an accident. Someone was playing a prank," he assured her. "It got a little out of hand, that's all."

During the exchange, Sharon's mind reeled as she tried to figure out what was going on. Shaking Ron's hand off her arm she moved over to the steps, watching them, her eyes narrowing in concentration. And then it suddenly dawned on her what had happened to Susan.

The thought made her so angry it was like all the breath was driven from her body and she lunged at Ron before another coherent thought could form. In the blink of an eye he caught her wrist and pushed her backward until she was pinned against the far wall. "You really put your foot in it," he hissed at her, the tips of his fangs showing through his parted lips, flecks of gold in his eyes. "I thought I'd play nice and let you talk to her because I knew you were worried." He gave her a small shake. "All you managed to do is scare her."

She was trembling, but somehow managed to glare at him anyway. "Did you do this?" she asked, her voice quivering.

Glancing back at Susan who had risen in alarm, he released her suddenly, taking a step back, but Sharon was still hemmed in betwen two tables and unable to move away. He gave a small laugh. "Not me, babe." he said, shrugging, confirming her suspicions. Sullenly she rubbed her arm knowing that she'd have bruises there tomorrow, but just as glad to be free.

It occurred to her that Ron might be lying, although he'd have no real reason too. If he *had* done this there was little she could do about it, especially now that he had her blocked off from escape. Then she remembered who Susan said she'd been hiding out with and her eyes widened.

"Nick?" she whispered.

Ron smiled and nodded. Sharon felt the blood rush to her face as anger filled her again, only to feel it drain away in fear when she saw Ron lick his lips. Moving suddenly, she slipped past him and toward the stairs. For his part, Ron let her pass and made no move to stop her. As she saw that same devious grin appear on his face, the thought that he knew something that she didn't barely registered, only to be swallowed up by another sharp stab of anger when she turned her head and saw Susan, who was staring at her, her expression a mix of fear and curiosity.

Without another backwards glance, she ran down the steps and toward the secret entrance to the tunnels.

* * *

Ron began to laugh to himself as he watched Sharon move down the steps. It was going to be fun watching Nick catch all kind of shit for hypnotizing Susan. And with the secret trigger he'd set in place, Susan wouldn't be able to remember anything until Nick triggered it. And he'd be around to make sure that that didn't happen until the proper time.

Still chuckling, Ron went back over to Susan's table and picked up his half yard of ale, raising it to her in salute after motioning for her to resume her seat. Yep, it was definitely turning out to be an interesting evening and the fun should be starting in just a few minutes.


Thanks for the Memories
By Sandra Gray

Sharon paused in the tunnel as the door to the circular room opened and people started to come out. Nick was slipping what looked like his coat over Natalie as they walked forward followed by LaCroix and Janette. Natalie spied Sharon and strode forward (a little unsteadily in those high heels that Janette had provided her), a look of concern on her face. "Sharon?" she asked when she reached her.

Sharon ignored Nat, pushing past her to lunge at Nick, who grabbed her by the wrists and held her away from him. "Sharon, what is it?" asked Nat in an alarmed voice.

Sharon's face was red and she struggled with Nick. "It's Susan! She's here, but he's messed with her mind!"

"What?" asked Nat. "How?" she asked, looking at Nick, her expression taking on as angry a look as Sharon's.

Nick looked at her, then at the others. Janette looked angry too; LaCroix merely smiled slightly, amused. Nick glanced back toward the circular room worriedly, then, releasing Sharon, pushed past Natalie and Sharon and strode quickly for the stairs to the Jekyll and Hyde.

"Nick!" said Natalie.

"Nicola!" said Janette.

He could hear them hurrying after him, but he didn't stop. He dashed up the steps and through the secret door to the Jekyll. He had to pause to wait for some people to pass in front of him, during which time Natalie caught up to him and grabbed his arm. She'd lost his coat and had her shoes in one hand. "Nick! What did you do?" she said.

"Took away her knowledge of vampires!" interjected Sharon, joining them. "At least!" She still looked at Nick murderously and started toward him again.

"Nick, how could you?" said Nat, holding Sharon back.

Nick glanced around. They were starting to attract attention. "I did it to save her life," he said in a low voice.

"Well, you will undo what you did!" Then she paused and added, "What exactly *did* you do?"

"What I had to do," he said in a low, angry voice.

Janette had caught up to them and said, "Nicola!"

Nick glanced at Janette, then headed quickly for the stairs to the Cannibal Room. The three women followed him, trying to get him to stop.

In the Cannibal Room, Nick was confronted with the image of Susan in a ball gown, Karin and Jennise on either side of her. Ron the Enforcer whirled and, seeing Nick, said, his eyes going gold, "You and I need to have a--talk."

Also in the room were four other women. Sandra Gray stood beside a table where two other women sat (one of whom seemed to be tied up) and another woman lay unmoving on the floor. "Who the hell is that?" asked Nick, distracted by the woman.

Nat dropped her shoes and went over to kneel beside the woman. "Selma! My God, what happened?" she said, and started to check her pulse.

Sharon stepped forward and said, "She was attacked by a vampire downstairs. Don't worry. The Enforcer said she's going to be okay."

Nick probed the woman with his hearing. Her heart sounded strong. "He's right. She'll be okay, Nat." The woman on the floor looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he'd last seen her.

Natalie rose from the floor and said, "She'd better be. And Susan better be put back the way she was, too!"

"What have you *done* to her, Nicola?" said Janette.

Nick looked at the women, then at Ron. "I--took away her knowledge about us, like Sharon said."

"What else?" asked Nat, recognizing the signs that he wasn't telling her everything.

"Her--memories of *those* stories." Nick looked away from her guiltily.

"You raped her memory!" said Sharon.

"Nick, how *could* you?!" said Nat.

"Nicola, *why* did you do such a thing?!" said Janette.

Nick looked at them, then at Ron, who for some reason seemed amused. "I didn't see any other alternative. I didn't want her to be killed."

"You didn't think Dorian wouldn't have noticed, did you?" asked Ron, more serious again. "Nicky, boy, you should have discussed this with me."

"I didn't--want anyone else to be blamed, if it--"

"Well, she *has* to be restored for the Interview," said Janette.

Nick turned angry eyes on Janette. "Oh, that's rich, coming from you! When you didn't lift a finger to help!"

"You know why!"

"You think we can really trust Dorian not to harm her?"

"It's those mortals, the Nightstalkers, behind this. She's not in danger. Restore her!"

"Yes, Nick. It's wrong! You've taken away part of what Susan *is!*" said Natalie.

Nick looked at the floor and frowned. "I agree with the ladies, Nick," said Ron. Nick looked at the Enforcer. "I've read Susan's stories and enjoyed them. If she doesn't write any more--"

"What?!" said Janette and Natalie in unison.

"You took away her desire to write vampire--" said Janette. She punched his shoulder. "You will undo *everything*--this instant!" Natalie punched his other shoulder.

"Fine!" said Nick, his eyes getting a hint of gold. He stalked over to Susan and took her face in his hands. Then he hesitated.

Ron came over to him and, smiling wickedly, said, "We'll make sure he doesn't harm her." Nick glanced at Ron, then looked back at Susan.

He exerted his hypnotic powers, matching his heartbeat to Susan's. "Susan, listen to me. You will remember that you know about vampires. You will remember the stories that you have written about vampires. And you no longer have any ban in your mind about writing future stories about vampires. Do you understand?"

"I..." said Susan.

"Do you understand?" repeated Nick. Susan just stared blankly at him.

"Stop this nonsense, Nicola, and undo what you've done," said Janette.

Nick looked at her in some confustion. "I'm trying," he said.

"This is no time to be funny," said Janette.

"I'm not!" Nick protested, looking at each of them in turn. Ron seemed to be very amused, something that puzzled Nick.

"And it's no time for you to hang on to that misguided idea that you know what's best for her, either!" continued Janette.

"Nick, you'd better listen to her! And to me! What you've done is *wrong!* And if you don't undo it this instant--"

Nick looked at Natalie in some bewilderment and then anger tinged his eyes gold on the edges.

"What?" he said tensely.

"I'll--I'll take a sledgehammer to your Caddie!" said Natalie firmly. Both Susan and Ron made sounds--Susan a small cry and Ron a disgusted "Damn!" which was almost too low to hear.

"And I'll help her!" added Sharon.

Nick looked angrily at them, then noticed that Ron had backed up some. Releasing Susan, he grabbed Ron by the shirtfront. "*You* did something, didn't you?"

Ron shrugged and lifted his eyebrows. "I only tried to disguise what you did," he said, then added with a tinge of gold in his eyes, "Well, you weren't subtle! Besides, she needed to get dressed."

"What did you do?" Nick persisted.

Ron smiled like a cat. "You figure it out."

Nick looked at him in frustration. "Remove what you've done," he ordered the shorter vampire.

"You gotta do that," said Ron, continuing to smile.

"How do I *do* that?"

"C'mon Nick, show 'em you got a clue."

Janette, Nat, and Sharon had fallen silent during Nick's exchange with Ron. Perhaps none of them wanted to tangle with the Enforcer. Nick briefly considered trying to wring the knowledge of whatever he'd done out of Ron.

"Then again, maybe you *don't* have a clue," said Ron, smirking.

Nick released the Enforcer and looked at Susan. What could Ron have done? Made her act more normal and obviously she hadn't stayed where he'd told her to stay. He thought back over the last few minutes. Ron had put some kind of block in Susan's brain that was resisting his suggestions, but what? There was that one time he'd said "Damn!" and Susan had...

A trigger of some kind. That must be it. But what?

Something someone said, something that wouldn't be common. Both of them had made sounds after Natalie had talked about damaging his car.

The car! Nick took Susan's upper arms and looking into her eyes, said, "Caddie."

Beside him, Ron clapped and laughed. "You *do* have a clue, after all!" Susan was shaking her head slightly. "You figured out the trigger. I fixed it so it would only work when *you* said it." He pushed Nick aside. "But I guess it would be quicker if I helped remove my suggestions for you." Nick watched as the Enforcer removed what he had done and stepped aside again. "She's all yours again, now."

Nick captured Susan's gaze and, matching their heartbeats, hypnotized her again. He repeated his former commands to her. "Do you understand?" he asked, hoping Ron hadn't left any *more* suggestions.

"I...understand," said Susan.

"You will also no longer need to do what I say here at the party. Do you understand this also?"

"Yes," she replied. Nick released her from his control.

Susan shook her head slightly again, then looked angrily at Nick. "You, you--" she sputtered, then finished, "You son of a bitch!" Nick looked down at the floor.

"Susan," said Janette firmly. "Dorian is ready to Interview you."

Susan took a deep breath and looked around at the people near her. Nick cleared his throat and said, "Ron and I will still protect you, if you wish."

"I've had enough of your 'protection!' I just want this whole thing to be over with."

Ron smiled and slipped an arm around her. "We'll keep nearby anyway." His expression got grim and the gold reappeared in his eyes. "Besides, I've my own score to settle with the Archivist."

Susan shook herself from Ron's grip and started for the door. Ron followed, then Karin and Jennise. Susan pushed past Janette who, after a moment and one last glance at Nick, also left the room.

Nick looked at Natalie. "You should stay here," he said. Then he started for the door too.


Bewitched, Bothered, and Bedraggled
By Valerie Meachum, Amy Hull, and Jennie Hayes

"I'm gonna get 'em," Valerie muttered over her second Sex-on-the-Beach, having abandoned the secure realm of Dr. Pepper hours before. "I've *gotta* get 'em." She eyed the forlorn heap of soggy pink satin and chiffon she had been so proud of earlier. "I'm gonna NAIL 'em!"

"Nail whom, Valerie?" Amy inquired. "We still don't know who's responsible."

"And anyway, you're not doing anything without us!" Jennie added.

"Oh, I didn't plan to. You guys are definitely in on this." Valerie downed the last sip of her drink and swirled the icecubes around in her glass. "Mind you, we can't go calling it revenge. Nat would yell at us."

"She wouldn't be the first," Amy reminded her. "The famous Valerie Meachum tact goes byebye in wartime, if you haven't noticed."

"Don't remind me," Valerie groaned.

Jennie grabbed the glass before the spinning ice cubes could drive her *totally* insane. "So if it's not revenge, what is it?"

With a shrug, the wet redhead replied, "Just ruffling a few Ravenette feathers."

Amy stared at her for a moment. "Gracious, that sounds like Cousin talk!"

"Your point?"

Jennie looked nervously at Amy, then back at Valerie. "So a minute ago you were worried about being yelled at by Natalie, now you don't mind sounding like a Cousin? And how do you know it was the Ravenettes, anyway?"

Valerie blinked, the snatched her glass back and started crunching an ice cube before replying, "Could only have been them or the Cousins. And I used to *be* a Cousin, remember? I know what they 'feel' like."

"Valerie, you're babbling," the other two informed her in stereo.

"'Course I am. That's what I do best, isn't it?" A crooked smile slowly crossed Valerie's face, causing one of thetiny rivulets still trailing from her hair to pool in a dimple in her left cheek. "C'mon, you guys, we've got work to do."

(The Jack the Ripper, shortly thereafter)

"Jennie, you're a *genius*!" Amy enthused, trying several times to swing a stray dark ringlet out of her line of sight before giving up. "I would *never* have thought of this!"

"I do my humble best," the blonde chemist replied with a grin.

A well-dressed and rather smug-looking corbie of the gentlmanly persuasion was looking them over appreciatively, his look turning quizzical when he caught sight of Valerie's drowned-rat-in-slob-mode appearance. "You keep twisting your face up like that, pal, it just might get stuck that way." Valerie widened her green eyes, stepping slightly forward to be certain the dance floor lights would make them look decidedly eerie. "Stranger things have happened. I spent the last few weekends making and breaking the King of Scotland."

"And I think you're taking the role a little too much to heart," Jennie noted as the guy shook his head and wandered off. "Come on, let's get this accomplished."

"This" was accomplished in blindingly short order--"this" consisiting of liberal application of vegetable oil to the dance floor, followed by liberal application of gaudy spray glitter to the floundering Ravens and Ravenettes.

Soon the aerosol cans were empty, and the three giggling NatPackers made a beeline for the nearest exit, the one that led to the tunnels. Their progress was impeded, however, by the very sudden appearance of Miklos in front of the door. The normally laid-back bartender was anything but laid-back at the moment, and couldn't have been mistaken for such even without the broad swath of multi-coloured glitter decorating him from left shoulder to right knee. "*What* is going--" He stopped short as he caught his first real glimpse of Amy, a moment that the evening previous encounters with people who actually knew Janette indicated would be very brief.

Taking advantange of the vampire's momentary confusion, Valerie grabbed her companions by the hands and barreled past him, burbling, "Sorry, must dash!"

They kept going until they were fairly certain no one was following, at which point Amy's luck deemed it reasonably safe for her to tumble in a heap of purple taffeta on the floor. "I don't *like* it down here!" she grumped. "I didn't like it down here *before*. Why are we back down here?"

"Because it was the quickest way out," Jennie replied matter-of-factly. "Hey, aren't the leaders supposed to be having their big meeting with Dorian down here somewhere?"

"Is this where it is?" Valerie looked around in the gloom as if half-expecting to see them. "I wonder how that's going? I'm so tired of not knowing what's going on...at least Nat convinced them not to pull the need-to-know-basis garbage on her this time. She can fill us in when it's over."

Amy nodded agreement. "I know. I'm starting to feel like Mulder with people telling me annoying little bits of things. I didn't sign on for this!"

"Of course not." Jennie grinned. "We dragged you kicking and screaming."

Amy was about to answer, but Valerie pointed down the corridor. "Look! Isn't that Sharon? Maybe she's heard something."

The intrepid trio trooped off in pursuit of their fellow NatPacker, who was stomping quite purposefully. As they neared her, they heard snatches of grumbling--"of all the fuzz-brained...whammy Susan before her interview...probably didn't even NOTICE she wasn't making sense!..."

At that moment the the various major players emerged from the central tunnel room, and Sharon strode right up to Nick and started lambasting him. It took several moments, during which the eavesdropping threesome made a silent unanimous decision to hang back until they could figure out what the heck was happening, before it became clear *what* the lambasting was about: Nick had actually made Susan Garrett, the Empress of FKFIC, forget about vampires!

Stunned for a moment, the adventurers hung back while the meeting crew followed Sharon en masse back to the Lamb. "He's a brick," Valerie finally ventured. "He's a brick with fangs. He's a *blond* brick with fangs." She was shaking her head at the sheer idiocy of the move.

Amy was no less aghast. "Is there anything even *left* in her head if she doens't know about vampires?"

"Sure," Jennie replied. "She's still an expert on getting bullets out of laser printers. Come on, you guys, I love Nick too, but he *does* dumb things. Let's go see the fireworks!"

(outside the Cannibal Cafe, immediately following the restoration of Susan's memory)

The girls stood somberly as a number of people, familiar and unfamiliar, trooped out of the room that had become the center of all attention. "The Interview is officially beginning," Dorian informed the small crowd. "Here. Now. There will be *no* interference."

No one was about to argue any longer. Even LaCroix stood speechless as the announcement was made, though his slight, amused smile never left.

As everyone settled in to wait, some returning to the festivities downstairs, Valerie noted that "Uncle's" attention was fixed primarily on Natalie, who was busy reading Nick the riot act in hushed tones. "Be right back, guys," she muttered to Amy and Jennie, crossing to the tall vampire. "You know," she began conversationally, "Nick has probably told you this, but maybe not. Either way, I'm telling you now. Don't even think about it. Natalie is nobody's property and nobobdy's pawn and nobody's toy. Leave her alone."

The amused look turned very slightly toward her. "Or what?"

Just as calmly--though Valerie had no idea how she managed it--she replied, "I didn't give you an 'or.'"

"Brave words. But they are your stock-in-trade, aren't they?" LaCroix chuckled slightly. "Be careful. Words are what started this mess, after all."

Valerie had more to say, but thought better of it, especially when Amy and Jennie dragged her away bodily. "Are you out of your *mind*?" Jennie hissed. "You're just lucky they haven't tried too hard to get you back in the Cousins, Miss 'Orphan'! What are you baiting him for?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Valerie shrugged.

A familiar voice to their left startled them, and they turned to see Janette looking Amy up and down. "Natalie," she called, "where did you manage to get this one? She must be very useful indeed." She cocked her head to the side. "At least for a second or two at a time."

"It wasn't planned that way," Nat objected. "Amy is Amy. There aren't any hidden agendas here."

"Oh, I hope not," Janette agreed, shaking her head as her attention turned to Valerie. "Oh, dear, this red-headed witch of yours seems to have had an interesting evening."

Nat frowned. "I don't think we need to be insulting each other, Janette."

"But she *is*, my dear doctor. I'm not insulting her, simply stating a fact. Didn't you know? She's studying with that Enforcer's pet wizard."

"You're *what*?"

Valerie felt her cheeks turning crimson as several pairs of eyes turned to her. "I'm not. Not yet, anyway. *He* seems to think so, but there hasn't exactly been a chance to properly discuss it." She looked helplessly at Natalie. "I didn't want to throw it at you on top of everything else. I wasn't sure what you'd think."

Nat sighed. "Well, it's not for me to judge. You have to take learning where you can find it, and if Dragutin..." She made a slight face. "Can I talk to you about this? Once this mess is over?"

"Sure."

"It seems it's as foolish to underestimate your allies as it is your enchanting self." LaCroix placed his hands on Amy's shoulders as he spoke to Nat, leaving them there a moment longer in spite of--if not because of--glares from Natalie, Nick, and the other NatPackers present. "But we will be waiting some time, I think. Why don't you young ladies return to the party."

"Returning to the party is *good*, Valerie!" Amy half-pleaded, rocketing toward the stairs the second LaCroix released her with Valerie and Jennie close behind.


Perri Takes a Break
By Perri Smith, L. Dawn Steele, Tara "LJC" O'Shea, and others

It was all over very quickly. In all the confusion of Nick coming to pick up Susan, and having to unhypnotize her Dawn had managed to loosen the make-shift constraints enough to reach one of her knives. Moments later the much abused shawl had been cut in several places, and Dawn was free. She waited until most of the people had left the room and Nick was leaving before she sprang into action.

It was a bad time for Nick to be facing away from Dawn...

Yelling something on the lines of "You Knighties have very bad manners!" or perhaps it was "Didn't even check on me! I'm glad I wasn't tied to some railroad tracks!" Dawn reached into her {magic pocket} and pulled out a few more knives.

Vampirish speed let Nick turn around in time to catch the first and second knives. The third and fourth were thrown more in frustation than with good aim and they missed by more than 3 inches (with the help of a little more vampire speed) and sank into the wall.

Dawn was muttering to herself and trying to get access to more weaponry when Perri reached her.

The football-type tackle was vicious but effective.

Nick looked back at Dawn and Perri rolling around on the floor. I'm not dealing with this right now. He proceeded to leave the room.

Sandra, Natalie, and Sharon just looked on in amazement at what was quickly turning into a free-for-all.

Cursing loudly against deserter vampires and stoned Die- Hards, Perri fought Dawn down to the floor, trying to muffle her shrieks of rage. She didn't feel too bad about using all those dirty tricks her dad had passed on to her -- those knives had come a little too close to Nick for comfort.

"Dammit, Dawn, knock it *off*!"

To her surprise, Dawn did as she was told, for the first time that night. Her body went limp. Cautiously, Perri looked down at her. She was out like a light.

"Thank God," Perri muttered to her unconcious companions. "You took *way* too long to crash."

Cussing and moaning, she dragged Dawn's body back to the chair and tied her in a again, making very sure the gag was in place. No sense taking chances when Dawn came out of it.

When the last rope was in place, she sat back with a heavy sigh of relief. She looked over at Selma with worry -- the woman hadn't moved since she'd been brought up here. Wonder how long it takes to recover from a bite?

She pulled up a chair and let her head fall to the surface of the table in exhaustion. This had not really been what she had bargained for when she came to New York. And what a way to meet Nick for the first time...!

She looked around the dim room at her watchful audience and suddenly went stir-crazy. I have got to get out of here. Those two are both out of it. I'll just get a quick drink and come back up.

Perri stood up and suddenly found herself staring straight into Sandra's eyes. Sandra had been watching the proceeding with some confusion, and had come to the conclusion that Dawn must have gone crazy and that Perri wasn't far from the same state.

"I'm out of here. I'll be back in a few minutes." Perri said.

"But what if Dawn wakes up?"

Her conscience nagged momentarily, but she ignored it and headed out the door. As she was leaving the room she could see Natalie heading for Dawn. Probably checking that there isn't any permanent damage.

Downstairs, the party had quieted down. Everyone had probably seen Nick come through with Susan -- no one was under any illusions about the danger Susan was in. Perri nodded to a few Knighties, and headed right for the bar.

"Chardonnay," she requested, sliding onto a stool. The bartender complied without asking for ID. I'm not surprised. I think I've aged ten years.

"You look like you've had a rough night." The familiar voice was filled with amusement, and a certain amount of sympathy.

Perri looked over at LJC, not able to summon up the energy for a scowl or a smile. She wasn't sure which one she'd pick anyway. She settled for a calm, "You have no idea."

"Actually, I do," LJC answered, settling onto a stool next to Perri. She tok a quick drag on her cigarette, blowing the smoke away from her friend. "You and you Die-Hard friend Dawn are quite the topic of conversation around here. I wouldn't be surprised if someone's started a pool. Either over the underwear or whether she'd live through the experience." LJC chuckled, remembering the look on Miklos' face even now.

"The odds in favor of her living are bad. I may kill her myself. And we only dragged her through two clubs. What's surprising about that?" Perri was surprised she could find the energy to joke.

"In this place, not much," LJC conceded, stubbing out the cigarette. She seemed preoccupied, glancing toward the back of the pub and the tunnel entrance.

"What do you think is happening down there?" Perri asked quietly.

"I don't know," Tara answered. "I hope nothing. Or if something, well, nothing permanent unless it's good. Does that make any kind of sense? I haven't slept in quite a while."

"Nick won't let Dorian hurt her, will he?" Perri's voice was very small.

LJC turned to her and tried to smile. "The blond brick, let Dorian hurt a mortal? No chance. Besides, Janette and Ron are down there too."

"Yeah. I guess." Perri didn't sound convinced. Since LJC hadn't managed to convince herself, she wasn't surprised.

"How is Dawn?" she changed the subject.

"Sleeping it off. Hopefully she'll be something close to normal when she wakes up. Although, after this, normal is going to be pretty dull."

LJC lit another cigarette and blew out smoke, watching it swirl through the air. "Well, it hasn't been boring," she offered.

Perri laughed. "No, it's never been boring. Abby wants to meet you in person, by the way. She says anyone who can give me so much trouble is worth meeting."

"We'll have to arrange something." Then, almost hesistantly, "You still angry about the tapes?"

"Yeah," Perri said. "But I'll wait until the next war to get even. I'm too tired to strategize."

"Let's have a toast, then." Tara motioned for the bartender to bring her a halfpint of cider. "To new friends, e-mail and getting together again under more pleasant circumstances."

"Cheers," Perri smiled, lifting her glass.

"Kampai." clink

Perri took a sip and relaxed. There was nothing else she could do right now. Natalie and Sandra were with Dawn and Selma, she and LJC weren't (currently) trying to kill each other -- all was right with the world.

But she found herself thinking back to the events upstairs, and to what Nick had done to Susan. She hadn't understood a great deal of the conversation, as occupied as she was with Dawn, but she had caught enough to know that Nick had gotten way out of line by hypnotizing Susan. No more vampire writing... Perri had read many of Susan's vampire stories, and loved them. For Nick to have tried to take that away....

She sighed deeply and took another sip of her wine.

"What's wrong?" LJC asked.

Perri shook her head slowly. "I'm just realizing that even heros aren't perfect."

"Few people are, mortal or immortal."

"Yeah. But I keep hoping...."

LJC watched her in silence, knowing she could say nothing to help.


Two Pints Low
By Selma McCrory

I groaned as I arrived at conciousness. The last thing that I remembered was Vince's attack on me, but I didn't know that being attacked by a vampire caused one to have wierd dreams, and I didn't mean the ones where I crossed General Hospital with Quantum Leap. I mean...knives? Natalie? Grape Juice? Not to mention Nick, Janette, and Sharon?

As I lay with my eyes closed, I could tell that I had something over me, something cushioning my head, and two people giggling nearby. Those were the only two I could hear, and I was surprised because the Jeckyll and Hyde was noisy.

I opened my eyes. I was laid out on the floor with a tablecloth covering me. There were only two others in the room, the two that I had heard giggling. I vaguely recognized one, and the other was a complete mystery.

"Did I miss anything?" I asked, weakly trying to sit up and absentmindedly rubbing the wounds on my neck.

The two women stared at me. And then I remembered. "Oh, no! Somebody has to get Natalie! I need to tell her..."

"Tell her what?" the more familiar one asked.

"Just get her!" I exclaimed. "Oh, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot!"

The other woman shot out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Who are you?" I asked the woman that was left.

"Dawn."

"Oh, were you on the island last war?"

"Yes, you were the one stuck playing the villianess?"

"I can't believe you remember!"

She nodded and handed me a glass of orange juice. I drank it greedily. She watched me, concerned.

"It's always a good idea to drink juice after you lose blood," I said. "At least two cups if you've lost a pint, though I think he took more than that."

The doors burst open again, with the other woman coming in followed by Sharon, Nat, and Sandra. "Perri said you needed to talk?" Nat asked.

"Yes, it's something Vince told me before he tried to bring me across."

"And very nearly succeeded," Nat said, interrupting me.

I recoiled at her stern look. "Yes, I know you said dump him. I tried. But that's not important now. He told me that he had overheard a conversation between LaCroix and Karin."

"And?" Nat asked me impatiently. I sipped at the orange juice again.

"Well, they were talking about Dorian, and Susan. LaCroix had schemed to make Dorian very, very unhappy."

"Like what?"

"I have no idea. Vince didn't mention specifics. But you've got to tell someone before the interview starts."

I groaned. "How long have I been out?" I asked. "And, by the way, where am I?"

Sharon answered. "You were attacked a bit before the meeting ended. The interview started quite a while ago."

"Great. Just great," I said. "So, where am I?"

"At the Cannibal Cafe, the top room of the Jeckyll and Hyde," Sharon answered. "I wanted to move you just in case you were coming across."

"No, I wasn't. Thank goodness." I said, my voice rising in anger. "Vince, however, is going to be sorry that he tried to bring me across. Not only did he attack me, he messed up my blood donation schedure for the next few months. I'm going to miss giving blood for New Year's eve. He *knew* that meant a lot to me."

"Selma, speaking of blood loss, you should stay down," Nat said.

I waved her off. "I'll be fine. I'm used to losing blood. This is more than I'm used to losing, but I think it's the shock more than anything," I said, smiling weakly. "However, I'm more than glad to not move around too much."

I leaned back against the bottom of the seat. Sharon kneeled beside me. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"I'll be better if you get me some orange juice, or maybe some grape juice? Grape juice sounds really good right now. And something to eat," I said, leaning my head back.

Behind me, Dawn groaned. "Are you okay, Dawn?" I asked. She said nothing, But the other girl, who I think had been called Perri, giggled.

"I'll find something," Sandra volunteered.


Wednesday, November 2, 1994


NatPacking Up
By Jennie Hayes, Amy Hull, Valerie Meachum

It was very late. Or very early. Depending on your point of view.

From her seat at a back table in the Jekyll and Hyde Sharon could imagine just the barest hint of morning in the patch of sky showing through the front door of the pub, even though dawn was at least an hour away. The pub was fairly empty although there were still a few people around, sitting at various tables, talking, eating, sipping drinks, saying good-bye.

The interview was over. The party was over. It was done.

It was the first chance all evening that she'd had to sit and relax and think. They hadn't fared too badly, Sharon reflected as she carefully lifted the unweildy yard glass to her lips. The NatPack might not have emerged victorious from this, but her mind ticked off their various accomplishments. They'd managed to avoid being attacked by anyone (for the most part), they'd arranged a guarded truce with Janette that had actually lasted, they'd helped put this party together, both Selma and Dawn were going to be fine, more or less. Nope, they hadn't lost a damn thing, Sharon thought.

Nothing tangible, that was.

As she stared at the patch of sky through the window she didn't notice Natalie approaching her until she dropped her shoes on the table and plopped down with obvious relief into the chair opposite her. "Thank god that's over with!" she said, dropping her head into her hands and massaging her forehead.

Sharon smiled and lifted her glass again. After a moment or two Natalie raised her head and stared at the huge beer glass. "You know," she said finally, "that looks like a big test tube filled with beer."

Sharon shrugged. "That's pretty much what it is. Want one?"

"I'm not *that* much of a beer drinker," Nat said, making a face.

"Neither is Susan," Sharon said, carefully returning her glass to the rack. "But I'm working on it." At the mention of Susan's name Sharon frowned, looking down sharply and fingering the beer menu.

"What? Still feeling embarrassed for attacking not one but *two* vampires tonight?" Natalie asked wryly.

Sharon gave a small laugh and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, that was pretty stupid, wasn't it?" She looked up, clenching her hand into a tight fist. "I was just so . . ."

Natalie reached forward to pat her arm. "Happens to the best of us," she said gently. "Nick *was* only trying to protect Susan," she added.

"Which has to count for something, I know," Sharon admitted.

"Even if it was a stupid, macho, boneheaded thing to do!" Natalie finished, then leaned back. "I still have half a mind to take a sledge hammer to that car of his," she added.

When Sharon didn't laugh, Natalie sobered and leaned forward once again. "All right, what's really bothering you?"

She didn't speak for several seconds, trying to find the words, then gave up. "What are we doing?" she finally asked, looking up and staring into Natalie's eyes.

"I ask myself that question nearly every day," Natalie said. "Haven't found a good answer yet."

"They use us," Sharon said, shaking her head. "Janette. LaCroix." She paused and looked at Natalie. "Dorian," she said finally. Natalie flinched and looked away quickly. "We pretend that that's not what's happening, but it is," she continued. "And now, we can't even trust the good guys anymore." She looked away from Nat toward the door and saw Nick rise slowly from a table where he'd been sitting, watching them. He made eye contact with her, and they stared at each other for several long seconds, their gazes locked. And then Nick turned slowly and walked out of the pub.

Natalie had watched the exchange, her eyes moving from one to the other, and when Nick left she turned back to Sharon, but remained silent.

"The worst part," Sharon continued, her eyes moving back to Natalie, "is that I'm sure he *still* doesn't understand why what he did was wrong."

Natalie sighed and shook her head. "I think some part of him knows it's wrong. That's why he's stubbornly insisting that he did the right thing."

"It'll happen again," Sharon said softly. "Or worse. I mean, look how many list members are already vampires. Our group has been lucky so far," Sharon said, reaching for her beer. "It won't hold forever. God, Selma almost . . ."

"I know," Natalie said quickly. "I know. But if you're going to blame anyone, blame me." She looked up at Sharon, and there was a slight edge of incredulity in her voice. "And blame yourself too. You're just realizing *now* how dangerous all this is? How dangerous *they* are? All of them? If I had an ounce of sense I'd have headed for the hills the night he sat up on my table." Natalie paused. "But, I didn't. I had a choice, and you have one too."

"But realizing that the choice you've made will take you down a very dangerous path won't keep you safe," Sharon said.

"No," Natalie said slowly. "It won't. But it might help. And it might help to keep others safe too. Like Susan. If you hadn't been here tonight we would never have known. And I don't even want to think about what Dorian would have done once he discovered it," Natalie said, shivering.

Sharon took another long sip. She knew she didn't need to add that they didn't *really* have too much going for them in terms of choices, not when all the vampires around them had it in their grasp to control their wills, to manipulate their minds and memories to suit their own ends. What had happened here tonight was proof enough of that. Saying it aloud would only give it more power over them. And she'd had enough of revelations like that for one evening, thank you very much.

So she kept silent and concentrated on on her beer for a moment.

Jennie had been listening silently to the conversation, a slight frown of concentration and concern on her face. Finally she got up and brought her glass of Coke over to the table to join them. "Sugar and caffeine, best way I know of to stay on my feet at this hour!" she laughed. "Seriously, though, I couldnt help overhearing you two and you're right, but think about how many other people go thrillseeking once in a while. What about race car drivers? Not to mention skydivers, and you know, I think we've got a marginally better chance of reasoning with the vampires than a skydiver has of reasoning with the ground if something goes wrong. Yes, its dangerous but I don't think we need to beat ourselves up over that fact."

"Trust a blonde to bounce in and lighten up the conversation," Valerie put in, close on Jennie's heels. "You're both right, you know. We're all out of our self-preservation-impaired little minds; but as long as we've made the decision to go for it, we can only hurt ourselves by worrying about it too much."

Jennie retorted, "Hey, I've seen your roots, Miss Henna Head! And earlier you were talking like a Cousin, now it's like a Ravenette. Are you going schizo on us or what?" That earned a laugh from the crowd now gathered at the table, since Amy and Selma had also joined them, slipping quietly out of the tunnel.

Sticking her tongue out at her friend, Valerie pulled up a chair from a neighboring table and sank into it. "Even under the red I'm not as blonde as you are. And don't worry, I'm not shifting philosophies in midstream. That isn't what I meant. I'm not talking about pretending the danger isn't there; I'm talking about not letting it cripple us. Truth to tell, you'll have a hard time convincing me hanging out with vampires is appreciably more hazardous than crossing the street. Probably less so if the street is near a university."

"But don't you see?" Sharon interjected suddenly. "Vampires *are* more dangerous. If we regard them as casually as we regard crossing the street, then we might as well hang little signs around our necks that say 'Drink me!'" There were a few smiles and nervous giggles that ended abruptly in an awkward silence.

"Yeah, but if we worry about getting hit by a car every time we cross the street we'd never be able to leave our houses," Jennie countered, trying to break the mood.

"It's not the same thing," Sharon objected. "That's why we have streetlights and traffic cops. There are *rules*. There are no rules where vampires are concerned."

Amy looked soberly at the group. "I hadn't really processed until just this weekend how dangerous these people, this situation and dealing with it and being involved in it really is, and it really freaked me. I'm used to being able to sit quietly somewhere in the sidelines and not get noticed if I don't want to. But I can't do that here, and *that* really freaks me too! I also just now realized that as scared as I am of all of this, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else because there are too many people on too many sides who I care about for me to be able to go away. No matter who we're dealing with, there's always a danger in dealing with people, and these people are extra dangerous in their own way."

"But they're also extra interesting in their own way!" Jennie shrugged.

Valerie summed it up for them. "There's always danger inherent in caring about any people, it's just a part of life."

Natalie looked at Valerie thoughtfully. "What vampires who are also mages," she asked, abruptly shifting the topic of conversation.

Valerie thought for a moment, then said, "That's why I haven't discussed it with Dragutin yet. He's been hanging out, you know; and he did something *major* in one of these bars, though I'm not sure what it was." She looked around at her friends, looking for some key to understanding her decision. "I don't like a lot of what's been going on. I really don't like this whole mind whammy business, and it's going to take me a while to stop being perturbed with Nick for doing it to Susan. That's not a power to be taken lightly."

"No power should be taken lightly," Nat agreed. "I don't care if it's for your own good, that's *not* a nice position to be in." She shuddered ever so slightly. "I guess that's what worries me about this Dragutin thing, Val. Where does he draw the line of how power should be used? Where will you draw it, as you learn that power?"

"I can answer the last one," Valerie replied confidently. "Because, to be honest with you, it scares me to death. I don't *ever* want to lose sight of that line. That's what everything I believe is about, that balance." She managed a crooked smile. "That's why I declared for NatPack, really. Keeping that balance is what we're about. Isn't it?"

Natalie thought about that one for a moment. "I suppose it is. I never really thought about it--you guys rally around me, but what do stand for to you?" She smiled. "That's an answer I'll be proud to accept. And do my best to live up to."

"It's who you *are*," Valerie told her firmly. "You're allowed to slip sometimes, we all do; but you always manage to find equilibrium again."

"I'm not so sure about that," Nat demurred. "But I feel better about the magic thing, I think, knowing that's clear and important to who *you* are."

Valerie nodded. "It scares me. But it's something I have to do. Learning is one of the most important things in the world to me, and right know I think what I have to learn is what Dragutin has to teach." Grinning, she added, "Another part of what being a NatPacker means: explore the possibilities to solve the puzzle. It just might pay off, Nat." Nervously she looked around at the others. "What do you guys think?"

"Well," Sharon sighed, "I can certainly agree with the sentiment. It's one of the reasons why I got into research. I guess the subject matter just worries me. *And* how you're going to approach it."

Valerie glanced over at Jennie. "I partially agree with Sharon," she said, "But I also trust you to know what you're doing."

"Which," Amy said, "in an odd way leads us back to what Nick did, doesn't it?"

"But Nick used his powers to force his opinion of what *he* thought was best onto someone else," Sharon said, looking pointedly at Valerie, the barest hint of warning in her eyes "You know what they say about power," she added, lifting her drink once again.

"And speaking of power," Selma interrupted, smiling impishly as she looked over at Natalie, "That dress has quite a bit of power, if you ask me."

"I know, Nick nearly tripped over his tongue when he saw you," Sharon said, laughing as Natalie ducked her head and blushed furiously.

"You *are* going to hang onto it I hope," Amy said.

Nat looked up sharply, then grinned wolfishly. "If nothing else, I'll hang on to it just to watch Janette split a gut every once in a while when I wear it while Nick's around. You should have seen her during the meeting," Nat said, shaking her head and smiling. Then she looked around at them and frowned. "Speaking of dresses, though," she added, brushing her hand lightly against Valerie's arm, "what's this? Fairy dust? Or designer dandruff?: She examined some of the glittery powder on her fingers for a second, then looked questioningly at Valerie.

"Long story," Valerie said quickly.

"Which I'm sure we'll talk about later," Nat added deliberately, rising. "But not right now. I've got a plane to catch in a few hours. No point in trying to get any sleep, but I've got to change and pack."

"I bet they'd let you fly for free if you wore that on the plane," Selma said, grinning.

"Yeah, but they'd be so distracted they'd crash it. You wouldn't want Nat to have that on her conscience now, would you?" Jennie asked innocently.

As everyone rose and began gathering their stuff together Natalie held up her hand. :"Listen you guys, before we go, I know you all know about the Nightstalkers. I just want you all to be careful. And let me know if anyting strange happens to you, all right." When Sharon smiled and rolled her eyes, she laughed. "Yeah, like anything could be weirder than this, I know."

Then she grew serious. "But more than that, I want to thank all of you. I dragged you up to Toronto, then here to New York, and . . . well, I just want all of you to know how much I appreciate it. There's no way I could have managed this evening without you, all of you. And, I know some things got broken here tonight, because of everything that happened. I know it's gonna to take some of you a long time to trust Nick again, and for that I'm so sorry. But it'll be OK. *We'll* be OK in time." She paused for a moment, looking at each one of them in turn, then added, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting all warm and fuzzy inside. I feel a group hug coming on!"

The group scattered, laughing and heading for the door.


There's No Place Like Home...If We Can Get There
By Amy Hull, Jennie Hayes, and Valerie Meachum

"Well, I guess this is about it," Jennie said, looking wistfully at the outside of the door to the Jeckyl and Hyde.

"Yeah," Amy agreed, equally morose. "It was like a con, and went by just as fast. Now I've got to get home and get grades turned in. Yuck."

Valerie whistled suddenly, startling her two sleep- deprived companions. A cab pulled over and stopped. "Come on, guys, get in," Valerie urged as Jennie and Amy stared at her, too surprised at learning this latest talent of Valerie's to do the obvious.

* * *

"You know," Amy commented as she plastered her face to the window in an attempt to take in as much of New York as possible from the moving cab, "it's kind of a good thing that no one knows I was here. It would be *really* hard to have come to New York and have people ask, 'What did you see in New York?' and be able to tell them just, 'A pub.' I think that would go over even less well than 'What did you see in <insert city where con was held>?'--'The hotel.' People never do understand that."

"Oooh, look!" Jennie exclaimed, pointing wildly, "It's Central Park!"

"Oh, we *have* to see Central Park while we're here," Valerie said. "That way we can at least claim to have seen the airport, the pub, and *Central Park*." She grinned and leaned forward to the driver, "Could you let us out here, please?"

The cab pulled over and the girls paid the driver. He shook his head as they bundled out of the vehicle, still rustling taffeta and crinolines and lugging suitcases and canvas bags with them, then drove quickly away.

The NatPackers looked around them with broad grins on their faces and started walking.

"Hey, guys, think we could find the entrance to the Tunnels?" Jennie asked.

"I don't know," Amy replied, beginning to scan the layout for an appropriate hill and drainage duct.

Valerie began walking along one of the paths and the others instinctively followed, still looking around them. They were amazed at how populated the park was even at this hour of the morning.

"Maybe we could even find the carousel," Jennie added.

"I think that was from a different park," Amy said.

"Really? I thought it was the same as the park with the entrance."

"Maybe I'm wrong. I *thought* it was a different park, but it's been a long time since I've seen the B&B eps with the carousel, and I don't remember really well."

"Um, maybe we should think about getting out of here," Valerie suggested. The others looked questioningly at her until she indicated the amount of vagrant attention they seemed to be attracting. They weren't exactly inconspicious. "I think we've used up our shock factor buffer time. And I'm getting cold; I am still just wearing one layer, you know."

"Good point," Jennie agreed, gathering her skirts for the trek back to a road.

Twenty-five minutes later, they were only a few blocks closer to the airport; there seemed to be no free cabs available. They had whistled, waved, yelled, and still watched every taxi for the past twenty minutes whizz by (as well as any car can whizz in New York traffic....).

"Well, there's a subway station right up there," Amy pointed out cautiously. "Do you think we should risk it?"

"I think we're getting past the point of having much choice," Valerie commented wryly. "We have a plane to catch and we have to get to the airport. But I think Jennie and I should put our fangs in. Maybe it will be a partial deterrent for some of the weirdos."

They each dug their fangs from the bottoms of their voluminious purses, while Amy looked on somewhat enviously. The two secured the fangs and grinned, clearly revealing the sharp point. "I've *got* to get fangs," Amy commented.

Soon they were seated on the relatively empty subway car headed for the airport and surrounded by their various bits of luggage. The current passengers in the car looked fairly innocuous, and Amy commented, "You know, somehow I can't get myself worked up to be scared of a New York subway after spending a couple of days surrounded by vampires....including LaCroix. This is scary but at the same time incredibly tame compared to LaCroix standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders." She shuddered at the memory.

"I think at this point we're more frightening than most of the people around us," Valerie replied quietly. Jennie smiled broadly at the thought, then put her lips together as the older woman across the aisle gasped quietly and scooted closer to the wall.

Forty-five minutes and two more forms of public transportation later, the three girls were at the airport and running full tilt for their gate. They arrived, thorougly out of breath, just in time to see the plane turn and begin to taxi away.

"Oh, no, not again!" Amy said, already grinning at the irony of the situation and the mental image she had of how they must look to the airport personnel.

"Well, what are we going to do now?" Jennie asked, dropping her bags by her feet.

"Let's see if we can get our tickets transfered," Valerie said resignedly, heading for the counter. Two steps later she froze in her tracks. One hand came up slowly from her side and she pointed to a set of chairs near the window. Or, more precisely, to something next to the chairs--something bright fuschia that they had last seen as extra furniture for Knighties. "My suitcase is here," Valerie shook her head. "I expected it to turn up, but I didn't expect it to turn up *here*."

"Did you ever find out who took it?" Jennie asked.

"Well, one of the slightly more biochemically degraded Knighties commented to me later that night that she had been dumped off a bright colored suitcase by a girl with short dark hair and big glasses--"

"Tara!" Amy exclaimed.

"Yep. And I have plans for her. One last little thing I plan to take care of when I get home. It will even look quite official...." Valerie looked positively wicked for a moment. She picked up her suitcase and headed for the counter.

It only took 10 minutes and $15 from each of them to transfer their tickets to a later flight.

"That was lucky," Jennie commented as they sat down, "I expected to have to wait *much* longer than an hour and a half for another flight."

"That was lucky," Valerie agreed.

Amy sat frowning and staring blankly across the room.

"Hello!" Jennie called, waving a hand in front of Amy's unresponsive eyes. "You're awfully quiet. What's up?"

"Still thinking about what we were talking about at the pub," Amy shrugged.

"And you need sleep, and you're going through a post-con crash," Jennie sympathised. "I think we're all crashing a bit," she yawned. "Want to go look for some more soda?"

Several hours later, Jack was picking them up from the Columbus airport, shaking his head over their having missed the plane. They apologized, thanked him forcoming to get them, and fell into exhausted silence. At Valerie and Jack's apartment, they loaded Jennie's car, hugged, and Amy and Jennie headed for Indianapolis. Valerie went to bed. In Indy, Amy picked up her car from storage at the airport, and it seemed the war was truly over.

* * *

Several days later

Amy was checking her e-mail, which was considerably lower volume than it had been during the war. One note frome Jennie, one from Valerie, a couple of digests, one from an unknown address...she punched "view" on the note from Jennie.

> Hi, Amy! 
>
>  I thought you'd like to see this from the "Lois & Clark" list, so
>  I'm sending it along.  :-)
>  Jennie
>
>
>> November 3, 1994
>>
>>
>> Dear Ms. O'Shea:
>>
>> We at the _Lois & Clark_ production offices would like to thank
>> you for your recent letter of support.  We were especially pleased
>> to see approval of our new action-over-character format, particularly
>> from someone with your influence.  We appreciate your agreement with
>> our decision to relegate Deborah Joy Levine to the position of
>> Consulting Producer; we feel that it was the best move for the
>> show and are glad to see you feel the same.
>>
>> We were also gratified to read your wonderful complimentary
>> words about our casting decision for the new Jimmy; there has
>> been some opposition to the move, and it is nice to hear such
>> positive feedback about it.
>>
>> Again, thank you for your glowing praise.  We have taken the liberty
>> of sending a copy of this letter to your marvellous e-mail list as
>> a further expression of our appreciation.
>>
>> Sincerely,
>>
>> Lois & Clark Production Offices
Amy stared at the screen for a long moment. Then she shook her head and smiled a slightly nervous smile. "That *will* be trouble," she breathed.


THE END

[NatPack War3 Stories]