Time: Morning
Place: Natalie's apartment

The shades were drawn, the room was in semi-darkness, and over half a dozen half-asleep bodies were strewn all around the living room of Natalie Lambert's apartment. When the sound of a phone ringing shattered the preturnatural quiet of the room, nearly all its occupants winced in pain. Elaine was the first to silence the offending sound by rising quicker than she should have and snatching the phone from its cradle.

"What?" she mumbled into the phone.

"Who's this?" a feminine voice demanded.

"Elaine," she managed to mumble. "Who's this?"

"It's Grace. Have you seen Natalie?"

"Have I seen Natalie?" Elaine repeated, wincing.

"Don't talk so loud," Jill moaned from somewhere nearby.

"Yeah, Natalie. You remember her, medium hight, hazel eyes, lots of curly brown hair. Ring a bell?"

"I hope not. My head hurts," Elaine replied, her mind still fuzzy. Most of the NatPackers, while they'd been released from the hospital after overnight observations, were far from their best, most suffering from dizziness, headaches, or both.

Grace sighed in exasperation. "Look, this is serious. Can you put someone on who's more awake?"

"More awake?" Elaine asked. Just then Sharon emerged from the kitchen and took the phone from Elaine's hand.

"I've got it," she said, then ducked back into the kitchen, closing the door. "Grace, it's Sharon."

"Good! Have you seen Natalie?"

Sharon thought for a moment. "No," she said, shaking her head. "Not since I saw her at the hospital early Wednesday morning. Though I think she stopped by here yesterday sometime. I vaguely remember her coming in for a glass of water or something, but I was pretty tired."

"*When* was that?" Grace asked. "This is really important."

Sharon thought for a moment. "It was still dark. Thursday morning I think. I remember she almost tripped over Amy. I don't remember her leaving, though."

Grace sighed. "She must have gone home for a water sample or something."

"Grace, what's going on? Water samples?"

"Natalie said that someone slipped you guys an LSD derivative and she thought it might have been in the water."

Sharon nodded. "She's probably right. When we got home yesterday, all the faucets were running. We just figured someone had attacked us. Maybe whoever it was was flushing out the system."

"I think you'd better get over here," Grace said solemnly. "Natalie hasn't been in to work for 24 hours and you say you haven't seen her since yesterday. I don't like it."

"Have you called Nick?"

"Yeah, just a little while ago. He says he hasn't seen her either, but he thinks she might be avoiding him."

"OK, I'll be right over." Just as she was about to hang up she heard Grace's voice over the phone, trying to get her attention. "What?"

"I don't suppose you'd have any water there we might test, left over?"

Sharon thought for a moment, then looked down at the garbage can next to her. "I might."

She hung up the phone, took a long sip of Coke, wondering for the hundredth time just who had cut off the coffee supply. She'd searched Nat's apartment and found half a bag of beans and a jar of instant which she was hoarding, making do as much as she could with Coke and caffeine pills. If things weren't so crazy right now she'd try to get to the bottom of the coffee situation, sure that one of the factions was behind it. But there just wasn't time.

Rooting quickly through the garbage, which they'd also not had time to empty for the last couple of days due to the ensuing chaos, she dug out several old coffee filters and dropped them into plastic bags she found in the cupboards.

Then she went out into the living room and threw the curtains open, which earned her several loud protests, and Amy sat up, her eyes closed, and began signing frantically at her. Sharon walked over several groggy bodies and grabbed her hand. "Nat's missing," she all but yelled. "Get up! We've got to meet Grace at the morgue in a few minutes."

That seemed to rouse everyone but Amy, who tried to lie back down sleepily. Sharon grabbed the top of her sleeping bag and yanked it back. "I'm serious, Amy! Up, up, up! Nat's missing. This is very, very bad!"

Time: Morning
Place: The Morgue

With one a quick detour at the hospital, the group trouped into the morgue by late morning. They found Grace standing in the middle of a more or less orderly looking lab, but something about Grace's expression when she saw them worried the assembled group.

"This place has been searched," Grace announced.

Leslie looked around. "It looks fine to me."

"It was subtle, but thorough," Grace insisted. "She . . . she had a notebook where she was keeping her test results. She always leaves those things on her desk." Sharon cast Grace a guarded look, a bit worried that Grace knew that. But Grace continued. "Now, usually, I don't have any reason to go through her things, but the notebook's not even there! I've looked everywhere for it, even went through the garbage. She'd never be that careless with a lab notebook."

"Maybe she took it with her," Jill said, walking over to the desk and shuffling through a few folders.

"Then where?" Grace asked. "You guys know as well as I do that if she's not at home, and she's not at work, and Nick hasn't seen her, she's missing."

"Have you called the police?" GT asked.

Grace nodded. "I let Nick know. I'm not sure how seriously he took this, but he *does* know." She looked pointedly at the group, letting them know that whatever was going on, she didn't find it funny any more. Neither did they.

Sharon nodded. "We should go and talk to him," she said. "Oh, here," she said, handing Grace the bags of coffee filters and water bottle. "The coffee filters might contain some of the stuff, and that's the water bottle Valerie filled at Nat's right before everything went crazy."

"I'll get right on these," Grace said, taking the items from Sharon's hands.

"Well start searching for any clues as to where Nat might be, "Sharon said, as the other looked around with worried expressions on their face.

"And we'll try to talk to Nick and some of the others. I think it's time we filled everyone in on what we know," Leslie added. The others nodded in agreement.

Place: Toronto/Ballymoresk

These two-legs really know how to screw things up, don't they? Me and Halloween were able to convice Toggle to take us to Sydney. I even got him to lend Halloween his cap. We decided on elastic since Halloween didn't want a big bow under his chin. He was upset enough that he'd have to wear it for a week for him to sufficiently get used to the Sight for it to be permanent. You should have seen him when Selma, that was Sydney's temporary two-legs, tried to take it off!

Oh, yeah, Sydney was fine. When we got there he was living like a king! Between the fish in the plastic container, the hotel's drapes, and her clothing, Sydney had that Selma-person willing to give him anything. Including permisson for two friends to stay with him.

And when we finally got back to Sydney's apartment, guess what. They'd lost Sydney's person! Something about a kidnapping by men in black.

Now all these people keep coming in. Sydney says they're friends of his two-legs and they mean well. He says they might even be able to find her if they stay focussed. Then he mumbled something about seeing the same attention span when the neighbor's ferret got into all that coffee.

"Any luck finding Nat so far? I was finally able to get rid of that final case of frog's legs but I didn't hear anything of use along the way."

Uh oh. What's SHE doing here? I knew she was coming to Toronto but I didn't expect her to be here!

Halloween! What are we going to do?!

It's OK, kitten. Maybe Selma won't mention us in detail. Just keep out of sight.

"Kim, do you know where the 204 and 613 area codes are for?"

It's that Selma person again. Halloween never looks panicked but he does now!

"204's for Manitoba and 613's for Ottawa. Why do you ask?"

"When I was taking care of Sydney two cats latched onto me. The bigger one's collar has a 613 area-code and the smaller one's collar has both the 613 number and a 204 number. Both have really wierd names. Halloween and Angus Mid-hir."

"It's pronounced Mithir."

Good, she sounds distracted, maybe she won't notice.

"Wait a minute, did you say Angus Midhir and Halloween? They're here?!"

"They should be. I saw them running off to the bedroom when you walked in."

She's coming in!

"An-gus! Hallowe-en! I know you're in here! You might as well come on out."

Oh, well. Halloween looks resigned so I guess I should be too.

OK, kitten. I'll go out first then you follow. She hasn't seen me in awhile, maybe it'll soften her up.

"Purr-ow?"

"Mew-ow."

"What are you two doing here? How did you get here?"

She needs more practice carrying two cats at once. This isn't all that comfortable.

"What do you feed that black cat?!"

"Very funny. This is Halloween. He lives with my parents in Ottawa. This is Angus Midhir. He lives in Brandon with me. Any ideas on how they got here?"

"None. <Achoo> Meanwhile we have still got to find Nat. You coming, Kim?"

"Yeah. Sure. I'll be with you in a second. OK little ones, I have to go but be good while I'm gone."

Uh huh. Yeah. Long nails. Right there behind the ear. Hey! Wait a minute! Where do you think you're going! You call that a scratch? She left me again! We really need to work on that. Of course these other people look really interesting. Just walk right up and see their eyes water and their nose go all itchy.

Midhir get over here! We need to figure out a way to find Natalie.

Yes, Sydney. I'm coming.

Would these vampires be considered part of that Unseelie court Toggle was worried about?

Well, the Seelie court thinks so but most of the Community, as they like to call themselves, don't really believe in the Sidhe and those that do don't really want to be considered part of it.

But the Laird of Ballymoresk does keep an eye on them, right?

Probably.

Good, then that's where we'll go. If it is these men in black then they'll probably have drawn the attention of those watching the vampires. Now we just have to figure out a way of getting out of here.

Time: Evening
Place: Nick's loft

They'd buzzed, like any good and polite visitors. MaryGT didn't like the fact that they'd taken quite a few minutes before the door buzzer sounded admitting them into the building.

"They were a bit too reluctant to let us in," GT observed. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Well, what can you expect," Sharon said morosely. "We haven't exactly been forthright with everyone, now have we?"

"They wouldn't have listened to us if we'd been direct, you know that."

"The Ravenettes and the Cousins might not have, but the Knighties probably would have." Sharon paused, realizing what she'd just said, and shrugged at GT's astonished look. "Lets just hope it's not too late to fix it."

The elevator door slid aside, and the two NatPackers were greeted by a ring of Knighties, the expressions on their faces quite dubious. They all stood like that, no one moving, glaring at them, and Sharon felt decidely uncomfortable at the outright hostility. The tension in the room was palpable.

Until a male voice, from somewhere back in the room sounded softly. "Let them in," Nick said. As if on cue the Knighties slowly parted, allowing Sharon and GT to move forward, into the loft. Sharon noted that most of their handiwork from what seemed like so long ago had been cleaned up.

"Where's Natalie?" Nick asked, and his voice was low and dangerous.

"We don't know," GT said evenly.

Nick's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you," he said. At that, Nick moved and began to circle them. The gathered Knighties stood back, giving him room, and waited.

"Why don't we see where we stand." He moved behind them but Sharon resisted the urge to turn to face him. "You attacked all these people, you ransacked my loft, you . . . painted my Caddie pink." Nick paused at that, his voice getting slightly rough with emotion. "You stole from me." He moved to stand in front of them again, but only for a moment, before he was moving again, restlessly. Sharon had to admit she felt like the was being stalked. "And I can only assume that Natalie was a willing party. Give me one good reason why we should listen to you?"

"A very good reason," Sharon countered. She dared to turn her head to look at him, and tried to keep herself from glaring at the circling behavior and not quite succeeding. She suddenly understood why he did it. It was damned unnerving. "You know it would have to be, for Natalie to have been a party to this. But," she paused, looking down on the floor, "she didn't like it. *We* convinced her, so you should blame us, not her."

He stopped behind them, and Sharon felt a cool hand on her shoulder. The touch was light, but there was a menace to it. "So now you have a story to tell," he all but whispered. "But there's only one story I'm interested in right now, and it's called The Truth." He gave her a small shake to emphasize his words. "And I trust that's exactly what we're going to hear right now," he continued, "because I'm in no mood for fiction."

Sharon drew a deep breath, and with one last look at GT, she started talking.

"Right," she said, nodding, relieved that he was at least willing to listen. "A couple of weeks ago Natalie was approached by several men. Dark suits, dark glasses. They came to the morgue one night when it was pretty deserted."

"Enforcers?" Nick asked, almost fearfully, his voice clipped and hard. GT shook her head. "Natalie said they were mortals. She can always tell, you know."

Nick nodded. "Go on. What did these men want?"

"They wanted to know about any suspicious deaths she might have run into over the last couple of years," Sharon said, looking up at Nick. "Exsanguination, strange wounds. That sort of thing. Nat said they weren't exactly being subtle about what they were really interested in."

"But neither did they come right out and say it, either," GT added.

Sharon nodded, glancing back over at GT.

Nick shook his head. "I don't believe you," he said. "She would have told me about something like this." He glared directly at them.

Sharon stared back at him, looking him right in the eyes. "She tried," she said finally. "But she said you wouldn't listen. Nat didn't go into a lot of the details, but she said you'd been awfully preoccupied."

At that, Nick looked away, guiltily, running a hand quickly through his hair. A slight murmur rose among the Knighties.

"Anyway," Sharon continued, raising her voice slightly to be hard above the small din. "Anyway, they didn't press, although she said they came back about a day later and wanted to go through her files. She managed to put them off."

"At about the same time," GT said, picking up the story, "Leslie, Jill Kirby, Sharon, and Amparo Bertram were all also approached by similar looking men and asked a lot of questions."

"Questions? Like what?"

"Like, did I know anyone with strange allergies to the sun, or someone whom I'd never seen eat, or seen out in the sun. Things like that," Sharon replied. "We think they're hunters."

"Other members of the NatPack were followed on several occasions. We notified Natalie. *That's* when she decided to get us all up here, reasoning that we'd all be safe if we were all in one place where we could watch each other's back."

"We tried to play it like she didn't know anything," GT added. "In case anyone else was listening in."

"So, you staged all those pranks," Nick said finally, a small note of disgust creeping into his voice.

"Yeah. Nick, you have to believe us. Our only intention was to get everyone up here, and get them to pay attention to what was going on around them. That's why we also sent out the calling cards. We figured everyone would see for themselves and we could get the situation under control."

"And instead, everything got really out of hand," Nick said sarcastically.

"We know," Sharon said, looking down at the floor again. "Believe me, we know," she added, thinking about the effects the drug had had on her friends. "That was our mistake. We underestminated people's capacity for chaos. The Cousins didn't care *why* they'd been attacked. All they cared about was getting even. The Ravenettes only cared about getting the Raven back. The Mercs just want to make money. And most of the other groups just ended up playing the retaliation game." Sharon paused and looked around at the group. "We screwed up."

"And Natalie?" Nick asked.

"Is *really* missing," Sharon said, and there was no mistaking the worry in her tone. "As near as we can figure, she's been gone since very early Thursday morning."

When Nick continued to look doubtful, Sharon finally lost patience. "Come on!" she exclaimed. "Would we . . . would *she* worry you like that? Would she not come to visit her friends in the hospital? Would we *drug* ourselves with a dangerous LSD derivative, just to prove a point? We're telling you the truth here. We need your help!"

Nick glanced over at Perri who slowly nodded. Nick looked back at Sharon and GT. "I can't speak for everyone here," Nick said. "But I believe you. Natalie wouldn't be a party to a scheme that would needlessly worry me. But," he said, glancing around at the Knighties, some of whom were clearly skeptical. "We'll discuss what you've told us. Go back to Nat's. We'll call you."

Sharon and GT exchanged quick glances. "Thank you," Sharon said sincerely, realizing that under the circumstances this was better than could be expected. Nick believed them, which meant that it was only a matter of time before the Knighties were with them as well. That would increase their numbers substantially. "Thanks," she said, and gave Nick a genuine smile of relief. "We'll be waitaiting."

They were almost out the door, when Nick cleared his throat. Sharon turned, a knot settling in the pit of her stomach.

"About the de Brabant Foundation funds that you stole," he said, emphasizing the last word. "You do realize I could have you all arrested."

Sharon and GT silently nodded. Glancing over at GT, Sharon looked back at Nick. "We'll pay it back. It'll take--"

Nick cut her off sharply. "Not to mention the very personal reasons I have for having that account set up the way it is."

"We know, which is why we didnidn't touch the account proper," GT said. It was a lame excuse and they all knew it.

Nick mulled that over for a moment, then seemed to reach some decision. "The Porphyria Foundation is very grateful for the generous donation," he said finally. "It seems they get very little media attention that translates into financial support. An anonymous patron with deep pockets will do a lot for them. Thank you for brinnging it to my attention."

Sharon stared back at Nick, feeling more guilty at that moment than she could ever remember feeling in her entire life, which warred with a sudden flare of resentment over the fact that he was being so nice about this. She looked away, clearing her throat, knowing that she at least owed him a big one and pissed that that little smirk on his face could only mean that he knew it too.

"Now go on," Nick said. "You'll hear from us."

With that, the elevator door slid shut and started descending to the street.

Time: Morning
Place: A coffee shop

Sharon ducked into the almost deserted coffee shop and spotted Tracy and Partly seated in the corner, holding an animated discussion over two steaming cups. She approached the table cautiously, then cleared her throat when she was a few feet away.

"Sharon," Tracy said brightly, tucking a strand of blond hair back behind one ear. "Hi! How are your friends doing?"

"They're fine," Sharon said, looking intently at the cups.

"Would you care to join us?" Partly asked.

"Uh, sure," Sharon said. "Are these . . ." she asked almost forlonrly, indicating the mugs of dark liquid.

"Unfortunately no," Tracy said solemnly. "It's tea. Would you like some?"

Sharon made a face. God, what she wouldn't give for a fresh, hot cup of coffee right at the moment. Pulling her attention away from that, she focused on the task at hand. "I 'm glad I found you. I need to talk to you." She paused and glanced over at Partly. "Both of you."

Sharon related nearly everything she'd told the Knighties to the two women, answering questions whenever Tracy asked yet careful to make certain she didn't reveal too much about what Nick was or the exact reason why Natalie might be of interest to these men.

"Well, why didn't Nick put an APB out on Nat?" Tracy asked in exasperation.

She'd been barely phased at Sharon's confession that she'd been the one to rig Tracy's computer to say "I'm a *good* cop," a weeks ago. In fact, Sharon was somewhat amazed at the other womans aplomb as she watched her mind focus on the problem at hand.

"I think he wants to take care of this himself," Sharon cautioned. "I think the situation is fairly delicate."

"Espionage?" Tracy asked, almost hopefully. "Interpol, CIA, that sort of thing? Now why would they be interested in Natalie?"

"Could it be because Nat's the coroner?" Partly asked.

"And maybe she saw something she shouldn't have," Tracy added, suddenly growing excited. "A very suspicious death, someone who wasn't what everyone thought he or she was. It would make sense, given that they were asking her all those questions about suspicious deaths." She rose. "Come on, Partly. We've got work to do."

As the two women moved away, Sharon tried to protest, realizing they'd gone off on a wild, yet given what she'd told them, completely reasonable tangent. But they'd dropped a few dollars on to the table and exited before Sharon couloulould really get a word in edgewise, and she finally gave up.

"Oh, boy," she said. Why is it, she thought, things kept going from bad to worse here.

Suddenly Partly was back by her side. "Listen, Sharon. These people wouldn't have anything to do with... well, you know..." Partly looked around. "The fact that Nick and Vachon are..."

"Vampires?" Sharon filled in.

Partly nodded.

Sharon nodded. "I'm wasn't sure how much she knew, but yes, this probably has something to do with vampire. Or rather, vampire *hunters* I should say." She quickly filed Partly in on the men who had approached Natalie and members of the NatPack and the leading questions about vampires they'd asked, and how they'd all been followed on several occasions.

Suddenly Tracy stuck her head back in the door letting a blast of cold air sweep through the small shop. "Partly, let's go."

Sharon watched them go, shivering at the cold and not sure if things were any better than when she first came in. Now was not the best time to be cold and worried. Especially when there wasn't a decent cup of coffee to be had in the entire city of Toronto.

Time: Lunchtime
Place: The Happy Souvlaki Deli

Jill stood in front of the Happy Souvlaki deli, unmoving. She had one hand on the door but hadn't pushed it open. She just stood there, eyes shut, looking really stupid.

"Jill?" Leslie poked her in the back. "Are we going in, or do you want to stand out here all night?"

Jill didn't open her eyes. "This isn't going to be easy. I hate conflict." For a moment, she longed for home. This War stuff was not quite what she had expected--she'd had to attack friends; gotten drugged with LSD and made an even bigger ass of herself than she usually did; been kidnapped and had LaCroix way too close for comfort...

"Well, we have to tell them," said Leslie, interrupting her reverie. "Besides, we have this..." she indicated the box she held under one arm. "It should help smooth the way."

Jill brightened. "True." Drawing a deep breath, Jill entered the deli, Leslie behind her. It was full of customers happily noshing on all kinds of food, and both Leslie and Jill heard their stomachs rumble at the smells inside. Neither had eaten for quite a while. While they were on LSD, all they had wanted was junk food, and since their "detox" most of the Pack had been too queasy to eat at all. But now their noses quivered at the smells--tomato, garlic, fresh bread, and spices that their uneducated palates couldn't even begin to identify.

A curly-haired woman came toward them. "Would you like a table?" She thought that the two newcomers looked vaguely familiar, but she didn't think they'd met. These days, everyone in Toronto looked familiar.

"You must be Pam," said Jill. As a second woman, a blonde wearing glasses, walked up behind Pam, Jill smiled. "And you must be the other A-negative FoD."

Christine looked at them suspiciously. "You are..."

Leslie stuck out her hand. "I'm Leslie, and this is Jill Kirby."

Both Christine and Pam shot them looks of pure displeasure and backed away a few steps. "You're Natpack," said Pam. "What are you doing here?"

Christine ignored Pam's logical greeting. "PLASTIC FOOD! YOU SENT US PLASTIC FOOD!" Christine was so indignant that Jill expected to see steam come out of her ears.

"We did it for a good reason!" insisted Leslie. "And that's why we're here."

Pam was patting Christine on the shoulder. "Think about calming things, Christie," said Pam anxiously. "Hot chocolate...cookies right out of the oven..."

"Tea with lemon and honey and whiskey in it..." said Christine faintly, visibly beginning to calm down.

"Now would be a good time to pull out our peace offering," whispered Jill to Leslie. Leslie nodded, and opened the box with a flourish.

Everyone gasped (even Jill and Leslie, who had seen it before but were now really, really hungungry). It was a cake-- b- but not just a cake. A work of art. Any merc worth his or her salt would have climbed the CN tower for it. At least four layers. Light, dark and white chocolate frostings, marzipan fruit in spun sugar baskets, real whipped cream...

Leslie's and Jill's stomachs both growled. Loudly.

Pam and Christine stared at the cake for a moment, their anger vying with their hunger for the cake. When Christine finally looked up at them, the Natpackers saw true forgiveness in her expression. "Would you... would you like a piece while we talk?"

Over cake (accompanied by icy cold skim milk, of course) Jill and Leslie detailed why the Natpack had done what they'd done. The men who'd contacted the Natpackers in their various cities, asking the strange questions about vampires; the realization that everyone in the Pack had been contacted, including Natalie; their trips to Toronto...

"And now, Natalie's gone." Leslie ate a marzipan banana in a single bite. It was a relief to be able to eat something without having it turn into a giant, glowing green toad.

"Gone where?" asked Pam. She was still somewhat distracted-- she was mentally analyzing the filling between the cake layers, and wondering if it was something they could duplicate. They had the technology...

Jill pushed the plate away from her. This topic killed even her insatiable lust for sugar. "Kidnapped. No one has claimed responsibility yet."

"Cousins," said Christine darkly. "It's usually the Cousins."

"No," said Jill, shaking her head. "I don't think so. Besides, they're awfully by busy fighting over the Raven and CERK."

"Such a shame," sighed Pam. "Natalie is a great customer." She paused. "Well," she said practically, eyeing the cake that was left, "If you don't have anywhere else to go right now, I've a dessert wine I've been dying to try out. Any takers?"

Leslie and Jill didn't leave the deli for quite some time. After all, Natpackers and FoD's have a great deal in common.