With A Little Help From My Friends (1)
by Diane Echelbarger, Jennie Hayes, Karen Weston and Di Sudduth

Diane almost didn't go to Karaoke Night. Almost.

She walked into the Tiki Room and looked the crowd over. She didn't recognize anyone at first, which was par for the course. She was about to leave when she spotted Jennie Hayes, sitting with a bunch of other people at a table. She wove through the crowd and tapped Jennie on the shoulder.

"Hey, Jennie! Can I sit with you?"

"Yeah, no problem!" Jennie said, and snagged an unoccupied chair from the next table. "Everyone, this is Diane. Diane, this is my partner, Sharon, and Elaine from the Crown Defender's office, and Betsy and Amparo from the precinct. Oh, and this here's our psychological consultant, Di. This is gonna be confusing."

A chorus of "Hi!" echoed around the table. Diane took the chair and squeezed into the hole the others made for her.

Jennie handed her the song card. "So, whatcha gonna sing?" she asked with a grin.

Diane skimmed it quickly, then handed it back. "I think I'll just watch. I'm no good at this stuff," she said with a wry smile.

"Hey, c'mon," Jennie encouraged her. "They've got most of the songs from 'White Nights' there. You love that stuff!"

The rest of the group also made encouraging noises.

"Maybe later," Diane said with a notable lack of enthusiasm.

Jennie frowned a moment, then smiled. If Diane had seen that smile, she would have left the Tiki Room, and probably Toronto, immediately. Unfortunately for her, she was busy introducing herself to Betsy, who was sitting on her other side.

Jennie shot a look at Di, who raised an eyebrow in response and nodded slightly. "My turn to fetch drinks!" Jennie declared brightly. "Whatcha drinking, Diane?"

"I'll have a Han Solo." Diane reached for her purse.

"Don't bother, we're running a tab," Elaine told her. "You can settle up later."

"What's a Han Solo?" Amparo asked, as Jennie pushed through the crowd to the bar.

"One part dark rum, two parts Bailey's," Diane told her. "They're great. A friend of mine invented them."

They chatted and introduced themselves until Jennie returned and distributed refills. Diane got an on-the-rocks glass filled with a pale, milky-brown liquid and lots of crushed ice. She took a sip. "It tastes kind of funny, Jennie. You sure they got it right?" she asked.

"Well, they were out of dark rum, so the bartender used light," Jennie explained.

"Oh, OK."

The women chatted, and listened to the singers. Every so often, one of them would put her name on the list to sing.

Di fetched another round. While she was gone, Jennie handed Diane the song card again. "They've got 'Separate Lives,'" she pointed out.

Diane hesitated, but at that moment a middle aged man in a rumpled suit began cranking out a truly awful, off-key version of "With A Little Help From My Friends." "I don't sing soprano," she said quickly and set the card on the table.

Jennie chuckled, then looked up. "Oops, my song's up next," she explained as she got up. "See ya in a little while."

Di returned and distributed the second round, just as Jennie got on stage and began to sing "Come to My Window."

"Wow, I've never actually seen her sing in front of people before. I know she said she used to, but lately she just keeps saying she's too out of practice," Diane mused, then began to pay attention to the song.

"I would dial the numbers just to listen to your breath.
I would stand inside my hell and hold the hand of death.
You don't know how far I'd go to ease this precious ache.
You don't know how much I'd give or how much I can take.
Just to reach you..."

As she sang, Jennie's eyes swept the room, noticing that she and her friends weren't the only ones connected to their case who were present. She made note of where the familiar faces were, and saw a strange look on both Nick's and Nat's faces as she sang the next verse. Wonder what that's about? she mused.

"Keeping my eyes open I cannot afford to sleep,
Giving away promises I know that I can't keep.
Nothing fills the blackness that has seeped into my chest,
I need you in my blood I am forsaking all the rest.
Just to reach you..."

"Hmm...Jennie kept saying how she loved this song. I'm starting to see what she means," Di put in, with a sly glance at Diane, just as Jennie began to sing,

"I don't care what they think!
I don't care what they say!

Jennie smiled, noticing Di's wink just as she completed those phrases. Exactly the words she wanted Diane to hear as she worked on her second drink...


With A Little Help From My Friends (2)
by Diane Echelbarger, Jennie Hayes, Karen Weston and Di Sudduth

"Wow. Not bad at all. I hate to think what you sound like when you're *in* practice," Diane commented as Jennie returned to her place at the table.

"Oh, it's more like I can consistently sound like that, instead of the croaking and pitch-wobbling I do half the time now," Jennie responded. "My voice seems happy tonight, so I figured I could manage to get up on the stage this once." She latched onto the drink that was waiting for her. "Ahh, it's nice to wet the old throat now, though."

Halfway through her drink, Diane began humming along with the performers. Jennie smiled *that* smile again.

When Diane's glass was almost empty, Jennie handed her the song card for a third time. "How about 'Snake Charmer'?" she suggested. "You like that one."

Diane's sense of self-preservation was fast being replaced by a warm, slightly detached feeling. "Dunno..." she said, a little fuzzily. "I'm outa practice..."

"Aw, c'mon," Jennie urged her. "We all want to hear you sing it, don't we guys?"

The table agreed en mass, and Diane gave in.

"OK," she agreed with a broad, slightly spacey grin. "Put me on the list."

Elaine fetched another round.

**********

Karen Weston finished reassuring her 3 year old son that Mommy loved him and would bring him a Mountie hat just like the man on Due South wears, and hung up the phone. She was glad she'd come to the writer's conference, but wished it had been a little closer. Luckily, her husband, A. E., didn't mind taking care of all three kids on his own occasionally. Then she grabbed her purse and her room key and headed for the elevator. Jennie had said she and a bunch of friends would be at the Karaoke session tonight, and she was looking forward to meeting them.

By the time she got downstairs, the Tiki Room was packed. A young man was just finishing up a rendition of "Those Were The Days" as she entered. She paused to give her eyes a chance to adjust, and someone bumped into her from behind.

She said "Sorry," automatically, and was three steps inside before she realized who she'd spoken to. Whew, those detectives are all over in here. She watched as Detective Schanke pushed his way through the crowd to where a slender, dark haired woman was talking to a man with curly blond hair. Yep. There's Detective Knight, she thought, I think I need a drink.

At that moment, she spotted Jennie, sitting at a crowded table in the middle of the room. She walked over, while some woman with a passable but undisciplined alto voice began belting out "Snake Charmer" with *great* enthusiasm.

"Bad babe, I got news for you. It's all right!"

"Hey, Karen! Glad you could make it!" Jennie said. "Have a seat, I'll introduce you later. You don't want to miss this." She gestured to the stage.

"Long bloond hair, shooort black dress,
stand-ing there,uun-im-pressed"

Karen took the seat next to her, and looked up at the woman on the stage. Her jaw literally dropped. "Is that *Diane* *Echelbarger*?" she asked, stunned. "She never does stuff like that!"

"She's a snaaake--Charmer!"

"She does now," Jennie grinned incorrigibly.

"One look, I'm a bas-ket case. I get shook."

Karen stared in shock at her three-year-old's godmother. Diane was really getting into the song, complete with classic-rocker-style microphone moves. Karen thought she *might* be doing Buddy Holly. Or maybe Elvis...

She watched in stunned silence for a few minutes.

When the instrumental section started, Diane played along on an invisible guitar. Mick Jagger? Karen wondered. The crowd was cheering her on.

"Bad boys checkin' out each other's hair-styles.
"She ain't gonna last in this rooom full of rep-tiles!"

"What is she *drinking*?" Karen asked.

"Well, she *thinks* they're Solos," Jennie told her. "But I had the bartender make them with two shots of 151, and one of Bailey's. That's her third."

"Music gettin' tough.
"C- C- Can you get my heart to pound!"

Karen looked at the half-empty glass in front of her. Diane almost never drank. A glass of wine or two with dinner, an occasional tot of Bailey's. Nothing stronger, and never more than two. Then Jennie's recipe registered. "Jennie, that's backwards," she said.

"I'm- I'm- I'm on my knees... I can't think!"

"Yeah, I know," Jennie said. "But I figured she needed to unwind."

"Now I'm just a liiiittle worm!"

"Well, she is *that*," Karen agreed, as Diane began the final chorus.

"She's a snake! Charmer!
She's a snake! Charmer!
Yeeeaaaah!"

************************

At another table, Schanke had broken off his conversation with Nick to watch the crazy woman on stage. She was either completely blasted, or a grade-A exhibitionist, he wasn't sure which. And the song she had chosen...

"I don't get it," he muttered. "I never heard that song until yesterday, and now I swear it's following me."

"What's that, Schank?" his partner asked with a grin.

"Nothing," he said.

************************

The crowd cheered Diane enthusiastically as she bowed and left the stage. She walked rather unsteadily back to the table, where someone had wedged in another chair for her.

"That was fun!" she said, and almost missed the chair. "Karen?" she peered blearily across the table. "Hi, Karen!"

"I think you overdid it," Karen told Jennie.

Jennie studied Diane a moment. Her usually overcautious friend seemed blissfully unconcerned with the fact that she was going to be the talk of the writer's conference tomorrow, and probably for many days to come. "Maybe you're right," she said.

Diane just smiled.

Jennie took the oportunity to pounce on another at her table. "Come ON, Di! You've been staring at that song card all evening. You *know* you want to get up there.."

Di smiled sheepishly back. "I suppose if I don't I'll never hear the end of it, will I?"

"Nope! Now, whatcha gonna sing?"

"I noticed this one song on the list, and it's been positively *haunting* me lately! Seems that every time I work with homicide this one tune just won't leave me be. So maybe if I sing it it'll get out of my head?"

"Maybe so." Jennie teased. "Which one is it?"

"Put me on the list for 'The Night Calls (My Name),'" answered Di. "I'm heading to the bar for another shot of courage. Another Solo, Diane? Jennie, I'll have the bartender whip up something *really* special for you!"

************************

After a couple more rounds, Nat appeared at the table. "Well?" she asked, "you guys ready? I think we're up next."

"Wha's this?" Diane asked Jennie, quite unsteadily.

"Oh, some of us agreed to do a song with Nat earlier. You were...distracted," Jennie returned.

"I'm gonna sit this one out." Diane didn't look like she'd be able to make it to the stage, so Jennie nodded her agreement.

The rest of the group accompanied Nat up to the stage, then began a rousing chorus, only wavering a little unsteadily.

"Connect these bones, dry bones, dry bones,
Connect these bones, dry bones, dry bones..."

Oh, my. I still don't believe we talked Nat into this, but now she looks like the most comfortable person up here! Jennie noticed, delighted.

"The toe bone's connected to the foot bone,
The foot bone's connected to the heel bone,
The heel bone's connected to the ankle bone..."

Jennie sneaked a quick peek at Nick and Schanke. Both watched the stage avidly; Schanke with obvious amusement and Nick with a look that said Nat would be getting teased about this later. Looking back at the performers, though, she realized that Nat was really enjoying herself and had managed to forget her troubles for the time being. She threw herself even more into the performance as the group continued...

"The shoulder bone's connected to the neck bone,
The neck bone's connected to the jaw bone,
The jaw bone's connected to the head bone..."


I Just Gotta Be Me!
by Jennie Hayes and Sharon Himmanen

The lady at the microphone looked out at the audience. "And now, please welcome Amy Hull, with Double Vision.'"

Amy bounced up to the microphone and stood waiting for the song to start. She wore her own customary blue and white dress with a t-shirt underneath it. Her hair was so curly it was almost kinked in spots.

"I'm *soo* sorry..." came a muffled voice from somewhere in the room as Amy began to sing...

-----***-----

Schanke blinked at the girl up on the stage. He turned, looked at Janette, then turned back to the stage and stared.

"Hey, she looks just like you!" he pointed out.

Janette looked dubiously at the singer.

"In *that* dress?" she asked, incredulously. "Hardly."

Nick just shook his head and grinned.


Moon of the Wolf
by Lisa McDavid.

Hilary Mclachlan looked alarmed. "You *let* Lisa go to the Karaoke alone? Is that wise?"

Selma took another swallow of her Coke. "Oh, come on, it's just a big sing-along. The worst she can do is make a fool of herself singing her version of Fan Kill."

"But--"

At this point there came a frantic pounding on the door and Lisa's voice was heard crying, "let me in, quick! He's after me!!!"

"You've got a key," observed Selma. "Or has the pink elephant taken it?"

The response was a screech of primal fear. Hilary, having a healthy respect for her own eardrums, rose and let Lisa in. She was fortunately blessed with quick reflexes, so Lisa didn't actually trample on her. However she did have to clutch the wall for support as Lisa leapt into the room like a demented gazelle, vaulted across her cousin's bed and her cousin, and disappeared under the other bed.

"You didn't see me," she panted. "I'm not here. I've resolved to lead a blameless life hereafter and I've gone off to join a cloistered order of nuns in Gilroy, California."

Hilary sat down on the floor and peered into Lisa's sanctuary. "Where?"

"Gilroy, California," snorted Selma. "It's the garlic-growing capital of the world. What's the matter--Janette find out about the car?"

"If it were only that simple. It's LaCroix. He's at the Karaoke."

"LaCroix." Selma's tone was the one normally reserved for rejecting telephone sales pitches. "Lisa, LaCroix's safely behind bars and they wouldn't give him bail. Remember? How many Zombie Beachcombers did you have this time?"

"Two," said Lisa defensively. "Oh, all right, and a little bit of a third before LaCroix showed up."

Hilary meanwhile stooped to pick up something from the floor. "Where'd this come from?" she asked.

"This" was a tall glass molded to look like wicker work. Around the rim was emblazoned, "Tiki Room, Regal Constellation Hotel."

"Ok, ok," said Lisa, "so I forgot to put my drink down before I ran. You'd run to, if LaCroix suddenly turned up in front of you after you'd framed him."

"After you what?" gasped Selma, wondering if it was possible to divorce a cousinship.

Hilary stared at the glass from the Tiki Room. "Lisa, were you drinking Zombie Beachcombers out of this?"

"Yes, why? Look, Selma, I was drunk. I figured if I got him framed and then saved him, it'd put things right between us and I could stop looking over my shoulder every time I don't have one of the Enforcers with me." Lisa sniffed, then sneezed. "Gee, don't they ever vacuum under these beds?"

Selma, momentarily speechless, was trying to get her breath back as Hilary said, "Lisa, this glass is a triple. Do you mean you drank two of these and part of another? That's the equivalent of *7* regular Zombie Beachcombers."

"Achoo! Yeah, 'choo!" replied Lisa, crawling into view. "It's just not fair. The things I do for that man, and I end up under a bed while he has fun and games down at the Karaoke." A tear ran down her cheek.

"Oh, great," said Selma, "a crying jag. Lisa," she added sternly, "Are you a woman or a mouse?"

Lisa sat up. She giggled. "Silly Selma, there isn't a Mouse Clan. We're Wolves. Hey..."

A strange light came into Lisa's eyes. She picked up the glass, began to chant in a language that Hilary didn't recognize and made Selma expostulate incoherently. The chant rose to a screech. Lisa upended the glass over her head, whence the dregs ran down onto the Maggie's Lobster Pot, Collinsport, Maine, logo. With a smile of pure triumph, Lisa closed her eyes.

"Shouldn't we get her to a doctor?" asked Hilary.

"No," said Selma. "Let her sleep it off. I don't know what's gotten into her."

AHH'RRROOOO!

"What the--" from Hilary crossed Selma's, "Oh, no, you mean you hear it, too?"

Behind them, Lisa giggled again. "Of course she hears it," she said, rising unsteadily to her feet. "Our cousins are here."

Hilary frowned. "I thought the Cousins were downstairs in the bar?"

"Not that kind of cousin," explained Selma grimly. "Lisa Merlin McDavid, you send those arrgh'ashsh-jeed right back where they came from." She gargled the Neemonee word for "spirit wolves."

Lisa's grin had become a full-scale chortle. "No can do, Kemo Sabe," she said, brushing past and opening the door. "Granny never taught me that part of it. " To the circle of full-grown wolves in the hallway, she added, "Children of the Night, shut up!"

*****************

We pass over Hilary's brave attempt to bar Lisa's lupine, liquored way out into the hall. We do not mention Selma's retreat behind a locked bathroom door after Hilary's tactical error of telling her that the animals that were blocking the hallway were "just German Shepherds. This has to be a coincidence."

Lisa chuckled evilly. "Great job, Hilary! Selma's phobic about dogs." She laughed. "Come on, boys," she said to the wolf pack. "Let's party!" And she ran toward the stairs, followed by the entire joyously chorusing pack.

***************

The Wild Hunt burst into the Tiki Room just as the Karaoke was declared closed. Seventeen passed out Forkni-lers were dropped back onto the floor as their friends bounded onto tables, dived behind the bar, or stood screaming according to their dispositions and also their states of inebriation.

At least five took the pledge on the spot. Nick, who had been peacefully conducting an impromptu glee club in a medley from The Rocky Horror show, was besieged with requests for the 12 Steps phone number.

Natalie stepped forward and cried "shoo!" at the largest wolf. The animal flashed her an unpleasantly toothy grin before charging right *through* her.

LaCroix broke off Riffraff's big number to glare at the lunatic lupines. They sat down, panting, in a semi-circle and stared back. Both sides grinned unpleasantly.

Just inside the Tiki Room door, Lisa wrestled with Hilary. Selma lost her grip every time she caught hold of her cousin, largely because Lisa kept snickering, "They're only German Shepherds."

Neither noticed the sleek gray cat who skipped lightly across the tables and stood expectantly beside the combatants. Lisa tore loose, and in less time than it takes to read all this, locked both hands on the print on the front of her shirt. There was a muffled explosion, followed by renewed yelps from fans and wolves alike. Hilary and Selma dived for cover. The Maggie's Lobster Pot design erupted into reality as a three foot red lobster complete with mini-cauldron of garlic butter.

"You!" Lisa advanced on LaCroix with snapping lobster and cocked pot.

"What about me?" inquired the master vampire calmly.

"You, you, you, two-bit no-talent *hack*!" Lisa yelled. "You're not going to get away with this. I've read the rest of the script!"

"Uh-oh," Jennise muttered to Karin. "I told Pops 'undying forever love and abject obedience if you'll only take me back as your humblest hanger-on' wasn't going to fly."

"Yeah, but flying was what we were going to have to do if you kept sassing him," Karin retorted sotto voce. "At least we talked him out of hysterical sobs and clutching his knees while he laughed."

Meanwhile, the Deus ex Machina had been burbling low in her throat. When it came to a contest between lobsters and the Fanged One, the Fanged One would have to guard his own back. The gray cat soared in one blur onto Lisa's shoulder.

Feline claws, unlike the lupine teeth, were solid as they sank into Lisa's upper arm. She jerked forward with a scream, whereupon the lobster pot doused LaCroix from head to toe with steaming garlic butter. Simultaneously Lisa's hand slipped and the lobster's claws snapped closed on LaCroix's left ear. Garlic butter poured into the wound.

For the first time in two thousand years, LaCroix bellowed with pain. He threw himself at Lisa, eyes blazing red, but the wolves charged back into the fray. The alpha male's teeth met in the seat of the vampire's pants. The fabric tore, revealing Barney boxer shorts underneath. Hey, Barney's got to appear in every war. It's *tradition.* --LM

LaCroix fled the room, pursued by Lisa, lobster, lupines and the Deus ex Machina. The cat's battle cry rang out over all other sounds from her perch on Lisa's shoulder.

One of the pick-up Rocky Horror choristers detached herself from the stunned songsters. "Quick, they mustn't get outside--it's a full moon," she told Nick.

"What? Why?" he asked through a handkerchief which wasn't providing nearly enough protection from the garlic fumes.

Nat, who was frantically applying wet napkins to Nick's, Karin's and Jennise's eyes, added, "Who are you?"

"Linda Roth," the dark-haired woman said. "I'm on the U of T Anthropology faculty. Those are Neemonee spirit wolves. If they get outside into the light of a full moon, they'll turn into solid *werewolves*." Everyone goggled at her. "I know what I'm talking about. I saw spirit wolves at the Neemonee Mushroom Festival when I was doing my practicum as an undergrad."

Nick pushed Nat away and ran at vampire speed into the lobby of the hotel. He was just in time to find Schanke shaking his head and wondering aloud if Vice knew about the Regal Constellation. "Man, oh man, I don't know what they're pushing in that bar, but it makes crack look like soda pop. No wonder Ms. Echelbarger was so knocked down after the first Karaoke night."

Meanwhile the two uniformed officers' reflexes had kicked in. They sprinted outside and fired up the police cruiser just as the wolves began to shimmer in the moonlight. With one long, corporate howl, the lupine forms wavered and became naked human forms seen in a *very* distant shot.

************

"Cut!" shouted the director. "Ok, take ten and then we'll shoot the werewolves in close-up for the Euro film release version."


Oh Where, Oh Where Have the Little (Were)Wolves Gone?
by Selma McCrory

"Uggh," Selma groaned as she lifted herself up. "Don't tell me, we have a pack of spirit wolves on the loose. Great."

"We indeed have a pack of spirit wolves loose," the woman from the University of Toronto said.

Selma helped Hilary up. "LISA!!!" she yelled at her cousin before she realized that doing so wouldn't help.

"I would suggest finding them," the woman said.

"I think I will," Selma said. "After all, it's *my* Cousin that set them loose. Can you give us a hand, Ms...."

"Roth. Linda. And I think I'm up for a little--challenge."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Selma said, bowing a little and then turning to face her friend. "Hilary, I think that we have gainful employment for the next few months."

Her companion groaned.

"'Scuse us, officers," Selma said, taking Linda and Hilary in tow.

The startled officers let them by and watched them go. Outside, Selma could be heard saying, "Oh, cheer up, it's only a pack of wolves..."


Breaks
by Selma McCrory

The two friends laughed as the part with the wolves showed on the screen. "That was a riot," Selma said. "I'm glad I'm not chasing wolves in real life!"

"Are you afraid of dogs in real life?" Hilary asked.

"You think I'm silly enough to answer that in a room full of listmembers?" Selma snorted in reply.

"Well, I can think of other things to be afraid of in real life," Hilary said. "Him, for example."

Selma nodded as she looked at where LaCroix was having a fit. "Yes, I think Jennise will probably be in the soup for the next few months," she said. "Somehow I think that she'll be so wrapped up with 'pops' that she won't be able to do anything else."

"That's an understatement," Hilary agreed.

"I guess that she won't be proofing anything of mine for a while now," Selma said. She noticed LaCroix catching her stare and looked down, finding it wise to change the subject. "Speaking of which, did you like the collection I gave you?"

"Oh, yes! I just got to the point where Greer blurted out that she saw Adam and the others jaunting in..."

The two chatted merrily on through the rest of the screening.

That's what friends do, after all.


Fade To Black
by Karin and Jennise

(The End of the Episode: Writer's Draft)

EPILOGUE

FADE IN

INT. LARRY MERLIN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Larry, Dorian, and two Enforcers are sprawled over various bits of furniture. All four vampires are extremely hungover. At first no one moves when the banging sounds from the door. Finally, Dorian glares at one of the Enforcers. The Enforcer just begins to pull himself to his feet when Lisa comes dashing out of the kitchen.

LISA
I'll get it!

She opens the door and is less than pleased to find Ron the Enforcer lounging insolently in the doorway.

LISA
Oh. What are you doing here?
RON
Just filling Dorian in on the Toronto Situation.
LISA
What situation? Everything's under control. Besides it's none of your business.
RON
Any violation of the code is my business.
DORIAN
Violation?! Lisa, do you know anything about this?
LISA
(bubbly)
Well, yes! And I took care of it too.

She ignores Ron's incredulous snort.

DORIAN
Ron, I want your report. Now.
LISA
But...

Ron stalks by her.

RON
The situation in Toronto was a cleanup of your sloppy assistant's mess.
LISA
Mess! I DID NOT LEAVE A MESS. DON'T LISTEN TO HIM BOSS. I TOOK CARE OF A POTENTIALLY LOUSY SITUATION!
RON
You left a MESS!
DORIAN
Enough!!!! Both of you. Sit Down.
RON
(snarls)
I don't take orders from you, Archivist.

Dorian's eyes flash a fiery red.

DORIAN
Don't play games with me, Romulus. You're here to report so report. Lisa. Quietly. What is this about?
LISA
(swallows hard)
Well, sir, I went to this Writer's Conference. In Toronto. This ex-cop was reading from his memoirs. It was one of those tell-all things--and I immediately noticed that he was threatening to 'tell all' about the Community. So, I took care of it.
DORIAN
You 'took care' of it?
LISA
(proudly)
It was all quite simple, really.

Ron begins to chuckle sardonically. Lisa glares at him and continues.

LISA
Silent. Dead. Or one of you guys, right? I couldn't talk him into 'silent.' So, I gave him 'dead.' But not before I retrieved this.

She triumphantly produces the manuscript and slams it on the coffee table with a thud loud enough to make Dorian wince.

LISA
I even got Larry to hack the police mainframe and neutralize the master.

Ron's chuckle turns to a full-blown laugh.

DORIAN
All right, Romulus.
RON
She killed him all right. Left the body in her hotel room. I moved the body, planted a little evidence and retrieved this from his house.

He places a Macintosh Powerbook on the coffee table next to the manuscript.

LISA
*You* put Janette's choker in Stonetree's hand?!

Ron shrugs.

DORIAN
(frighteningly calm)
You involved Janette in this?
RON
It's not like they could do anything to her. And I made sure that she wouldn't be the only suspect. I--
LISA
And none of that was even necessary. I had it all under control. I had an alibi, a clean record, and who would suspect a 5'4" woman of killing someone Stonetree's size?

Dorian sits down wearily and holds his head in his hands.

DORIAN
Lisa, does this sudden enthusiasm for enforcing the Code have anything to do with the little--promotion--you requested last month?
RON
(howling with laughter)
You're not --seriously-- considering! Making HER an Enforcer! Oh, you ARE in trouble, Archivist!
LISA
(hopefully)
But I'd be good at it!

Dorian groans. Ron continues to laugh.

On Lisa's crushed expression.

FADE TO BLACK


Who's Gonna Drive You Home?
by Sharon Himmanen

"OK, I just want to talk through this scene with you quickly," Jennie said handing a clipboard to the over-eager production assistant before turning to the fan-turned-actress. "Here's what has to happen..."

-----***-----

"Action!" Jennie yelled.

Schanke, Natalie and Nick walked out of the 96th precinct building. Before splitting up and heading toward their cars they chatted and joked about the recent events.

It wasn't a huge explosion, but it was enough to startle the three of them. Schanke threw up his arms just as there was a flash of orange from his car parked over to their left. A huge black cloud of smoke rolled out from beneath it and there was a horrible creaking sound as metal twisted and snapped. Through the haze of smoke Schanke watched in horror as all four wheels popped off and the car dropped to the concrete with a loud crash and whine of metal.

Nick, who had grabbed Natalie, pushing her back against the wall to shield her from flying debris, looked up at his partner. "What the--"

Before he could continue, there was another sound, this time from Captain Cohen's car parked in her usual spot. There was no quick explosion but a long, low, ominous rumble as the inside of the car filled with white, dense smoke. This continued for several seconds, then stopped. Schanke and Natalie breathed a small sigh of relief only to be cut off when both hoods of Cohen's car popped open just as another small explosion blew out all the windows of her car.

"Schanke!" Nick yelled, pushing Natalie toward the front door of the precinct. "Somebody get the bomb squad!"

"They blew up my car!" Schanke yelled instead, stepping forward. "Why would somebody blow up my car?"

Natalie turned sharply, struggling against Nick. "Get inside, Nat!" he cautioned, taking her by the arm.

"But--" Natalie began. The sound of another explosion cut her off. "Oh, no! Not *again!*" she exclaimed. Sure enough, this time *her* car was going up, and in a much more spectacular way than the previous two. Someone had placed a fairly large cache of fireworks in and under the car, and a rather impressive and colorful display was now ensuing. Red, gold and green fireballs were spinning and colliding inside the car while blue and white streamers flew out from beneath it. With a final flourish, the inside was filled with a huge red fireball, completely destroying the inside of the car just before blowing off both front doors. They landed on the pavement with a clatter.

As the lights and smoke began to fade Natalie shrugged Nick's protective arm off her and stepped toward her car shaking her head. She surveyed the damage for several long moments before turning to Nick. "Do you know what having three cars blow up does to your insurance?"

Nick stood quietly surveying the area which looked more like a battle zone than a parking lot at the moment. "Man, oh man," he heard Schanke say, then followed his arm as he pointed to the street. "Isn't that your friend Janette's car?" he asked, indicating the expensive black sports car that was lurching down the street. As it moved it left behind a stream of engine parts, first the muffler, pipes, screws, sparkplugs and so on. A huge array of spare parts littered the street. As the car rocked to a halt at the light on the corner, both the front and back bumpers clattered to the street. A final, single shudder raced through the car as the whole bottom gave way and the engine crashed to the pavement.

The trio watched as Janette stumbled from the car, her hair a tangled mess and her coat and handbag askew. Her driver jumped out quickly and gave her a quick hand which she shrugged off violently. Whirling she screamed several amazingly creative epithets at him in a combination of English, French and possibly Spanish, Natalie thought. Her driver, for his part, cowered silently under the onslaught until Janette turned indignantly on her heel and stalked over to Nick.

"Car trouble?" Natalie asked Janette, unable to hide her amusement. She nearly flinched under the animosity in Janette's glare. But Janette said nothing to her, turning instead to Nick. "Nicola," she said sharply. "Take me home, please," thought it was clear from her tone of voice that this was anything but a request.

"In a minute, Janette," Nick said. "We've got to get to the bottom of this first."

"You can do that *after* you take me home," Janette said pointedly. She turned and quickly surveyed the lot. "Ah, I see that relic of yours is still intact. Shall we?" And she started to move off in the direction of Nick's car.

"Why is it, Knight," Schanke observed, "that your car, which is illegally parked I might add, is the only one that hasn't blown up?"

"How do you know it isn't going to?" Natalie asked. She looked at Nick who suddenly went a little paler as he looked across the lot toward his car. Stepping forward quickly he caught Janette's arm and pulled her back.

"Don't," he cautioned. Then he brushed past her and started to move forward quickly, concern very evident on his face. Natalie caught up with him after he'd taken only a few steps forward.

"Don't you, either!" she said emphatically, but Nick continued moving forward quickly. "Nick! it's only a car!" she called after him.

Nick pulled up short and whirled, about to give her yet another lecture on how his car was a classic when a deafening roar filled the air around them. Nick used all his vampiric speed to again grab Natalie and drag her down and under a nearby car as the night sky became brighter than the day and a pillar of fire where the caddie had once stood rose toward the heavens.

After several moments of silence, Natalie glanced up and surveyed the blackened crater that had once been Nick's caddie. "Oh, Nick!" she breathed. He answered her with a small whimper and she turned quickly. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

He didn't answer, but just laid there staring out from beneath the car. "Nick! Talk to me!" She shifted so that she could get a closer look at him, and was about to shake him when the clatter of more metal against concrete filled her ears. She looked out and saw hundreds of charred pieces of metal raining down around them. Whoever had done this had literally blown Nick's car to bits. Nick moaned again as one of the hubcaps struck the pavement near them. Then a sizable chunk of the hood hit, then the muffler pipe. Natalie thought she saw part of the radiator fall into one of the potholes on the main thoroughfare of the lot.

*

Standing in the shadows nearby, Susan Garrett was nearly completely satisfied. She wasn't quite sure how she'd possibly square this with Janette, although that *had* been an accident. It would probably be better for her if Janette never found out that she was in any way involved with this situation. Susan wasn't quite sure who had wired up the cars so elaborately. She only knew that she'd been adjusting the settings on her new watch, one of those really neat, cutting edge ones that allowed you to get e-mail via a wireless signal. It was an anonymous gift that had mysteriously appeared in her hotel room last night while she was in taking her shower. As soon as she'd saved the settings and hit the activation switch Schanke's car had blown up.

She'd stopped for a moment to observe, then shrugged and reset the watch after noticing that it didn't work. That's when Cohen's car had blown up. That had been interesting, and Susan wondered whether it was simply a coincidence or not. She she'd changed the settings again and wasn't really surprised at all when Natalie's car had blown up, although, in retrospect, she was sort of sorry about that too. This was, what? Number three?

Then she'd change the settings again, hoping that this time she'd get that damned green monstrosity, but nothing had happened. In disappointment, she'd tried again, and *that's* when Janette's car had literally fallen to pieces en route. Now there was only the Caddie left, and Susan figured she'd already blown up four cars. What did one more really matter, especially when there were so many people who would thank her for it if they knew.

After several unsuccessful attempts and noting that Nick was clearly worried about his car, she'd finally hit upon the right combination of settings and watched gleefully and with a complete sense of accomplishment as bits and pieces of that horrible car fell to the earth.

*

Gradually all became quiet again, and Natalie struggled out from beneath the car, carefully looking up at the night sky to make sure nothing was going to come falling down on her head. She looked over to where Janette was obviously restraining herself from using her vampiric strength to throw Schanke, who had pulled her down to the pavement, across the parking lot. "Nicola!" she screamed. "This is all *your* fault!"

Natalie turned toward Nick who was slowly crawling out into the open, a dazed look on his face. She felt a wave of sympathy for him as she helped him up. He looked so lost. "Don't worry," she consoled him. "The first time is a bit of a shock, but you get used to it after a while."

* * * * *

"Cut!" Jennie yelled. "Print that! It was perfect!"


Lurker (18)
by Maddog

"Whrfff-worf," the tesseract made a blorping noise as it deposited the two Lurkers in Dr. Natalie Lambert's apartment. The smell of freshly steam cleaned carpet assaulted their nostrils.

"Hey, why's the tesseract making funny noises?" Maddog asked.

"Beats me," Rastro shrugged her shoulders, "Hey Sydney," she said, zooming in on the cat, "do you have anything to say for our viewers?"

Sydney had padded into the room when he'd heard the tesseract. He remembered the Lurkers well from their last visit. The smell and taste of the cheesecake was burned into his brain. The fact that he'd done the Technicolor yawn afterward had not registered however. "Meow! Now!" he told his visitors.

"Sure Sydney," Maddog responded, knowing that the cat wanted food because that's what cats and fans always wanted. She opened the refrigerator to look for some cat food. "Hey Rastro, guess what I found?"

"Mold?"

"No, wine coolers!" Maddog pulled three four packs of wine coolers out of the refrigerator. "Berry!"

"Meow! Now!" Sydney insisted.

"Uh, sorry Sid, I can't find any cat food," the Lurker opened the freezer and peered inside it. "Hot damn! We've hit the mother load!" She pulled out two pints of ice cream, one Bailey's Irish Creme, the other Amaretto. Foraging even further back she found a small cheesecake. She unwrapped the cheesecake and handed it to the cat. "Here you go, enjoy!"

"Meow! Wow!" Sydney acknowledged as his pink tongue darted out and began to nibble the cheesecake.

Rastro had already popped open a wine cooler and was chugging down its contents. She burped, "Bwap!"

"Pig!"

"You should talk," Rastro pulled a face. Maddog was already scooping out Bailey's ice cream and shoving it in her mouth.

"Hey, Rastro, I've got an idea!"

"That would imply you've got a brain, and that can't be right."

"Ha, ha, very funny, toss me a cooler," Maddog took the berry wine cooler and emptied it into a very tall mug, she then began scooping Baileys Irish Creme ice cream into it. "See, it's a float."

"It looks disgusting!"

The Lurker took a tentative sip and then a larger one. "Ahhhh."

"Oi, let me try," Rastro took the float and began to drink it. "That's really good."

The next hour was spent consuming the wine coolers and ice cream. Sydney was now lying beside the cheesecake and taking a nap.

"How many vampires does it take to change a light bulb?" Maddog asked.

"I dunno, how many?"

"None, vampires can see in the dark!" The two Lurkers began to giggle madly. "I got one," Rastro said, "What do you call two vampires sunbathing?"

"I dunno, what?"

"Toast!"

"Heh, heh, heh, burp..." Rastro looked around drunkenly at the apartment. "You know, that cat's gonna be sick again."

"Yeah, but look how happy he is right now! Isn't it our job to make cats happy?"

"Sure, guess so, but what can we leave Nat. Should do something since we've drank all her wine coolers."

"Hmmm, I've got it," Maddog reached inside her extradimensional pocket and began pulling out posters. Rastro picked up one and nodded. They began stapling them to every surface in the apartment. Ten minutes later they finished taping the last one over the toilet. "There, floor to ceiling Brad Pitt, what more can a woman want?"

"Heick, heick," went Sydney.

"Uh, oh," went the Lurkers. Sydney had started eating more cheesecake and found himself more than slightly sick.

"Think we'd better go," Rastro said, giggling. "We should go visit Nicky."

"Oh, Nicky, you're so fine, you eat my vines!" Maddog sang insanely.

"I don't want to work, I just want to bang on the Duncan all day," Rastro countered.

"Wrong universe!"

"Let's go," Rastro thumbed the tesseract and the two Lurkers were elsewhere.


END PART SIX

[NatPack War4 Stories]