***Wednesday, November 8, 1995***

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 2)
Or: Godiva!(tm) Did Someone Say Godiva?
by Cousin Cherri Munoz

Time: 1am EST
Place: The Raven
  
A nervous-looking businessman approached the guard at the entrance of the
Raven. 
  
"Uh..Uh..." he cleared his throat then looked again at the card in his
hand to verify that he'd seen the name right.  "I have an urgent message
to a group... calling themselves ***The Mercenaries***." 
  
The guard smirked, "Stay here.  I'll get one."
  
A short time later, the guard and a lady with a Cadbury (tm) bar in hand
appeared. 
  
"You wanted a Merc.  You got one." Gabrielle said between bites.
  
The man arrogantly sniffed when he saw the competitor's name on the bar.
"I was told that I would recognize a Merc since one usually had chocolate
in hand.  I see you qualify." 
  
"Get on with it.  There's a party going on."
  
"Very well.  I have a private message which should not be overheard, is
there a place where we can talk?" 
  
"The cloakroom.  Follow me."
  
As soon as the door was closed, the man began, "I represent the Godiva
(tm) company." 
  
"Godiva (tm)," Gabrielle whispered in reverence.
  
"I was told that we could count on you.  You see, we, at Godiva (tm), have
a problem.  We found several crates of chocolate which had been misplaced
in our warehouse.  I'm afraid their expiration date is for midnight.  We
hate to have our chocolate go to waste so when we heard that the
Mercenaries had a voracious appetite for our product, we thought we would
offer it to the group in exchange for good publicity.  Of course, it goes
without saying that no one is to know about the expiration date problem." 
  
A starry-eyed gleam appeared on Gabrielle's face, "Deal."
  
"I'll arrange for the merchandise to arrive at the Happy Slouvaki Deli
just before midnight." 
   
"We'll be there." Gabrielle assured him.
   
Just then the man looked out the cloakroom window, grasped then ran for
the door and disappeared. 
  
**I guess the sight of LaCroix even from across the room was too much for
the man.** Gabrielle thought then quickly left the room. 

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 3)
by Julie Randolph

Time: 1am EST
Place: The Raven
 
The party was going strong.  People were drinking and dancing, just having
a great time.  Vachon, as usual, was leaning on the counter staring
absently into space.  Everyone was there and did not notice as the five
shadows slipped out into the night air. 

"What do we do now?"

Still green and pink Cousin Julie smiled that evil smile that endeared her
so to Uncle and started whispering details.  A few moments later, Screed
wandered up to them, peering quizically at John who simply
shrugged...after all, it was his fault that Screed had to be here.  Julie
explained the plan. 

"You don't actually 'pect em to 'all fer that?"

Screed's voice brough a round of "SHHHHHHH's" from the sourrunding Cousins
and he became quiet to listen.  Cousin Julie was given the keys to her
truck. 

"Finally!"

John looked insulted,"Hey, I worked on it all day, don't give me that." 

A colaked figure appeared from around the corner with a squriming mass of
black cloth in his arms, he looked unhappy. 

"That her?"

"Yup."

"Fab, put her in the front seat and take the gag off so she can breath for
God's sake, it's not her I'm after." 

"Then where are you taking her."

"Oh, sorry, privy secret...but do go back in and tell Merc Lane that I
have her and that I want the antidote to my ne...erm...skin condition
pronto.  tell him he can give it to you." 

"Think he's going to care?"

Cousin Julie looked at her cargo,"Eventually."

She snapped her fingers at John and Screed, "Okay, boys, lets rool...oh
wait..." 

The man on the curb turned to look at her...."You know what I heard."

"What's that?"

"Well, you know, Virginia was chatting with Vachon earlier and he was
saying what a great vampire she'd make and how she was coming to visit him
and the Vaqueros tonight at the church and that well..you know...things
just might get out of hand." 

"WHAT?  Does Nick know about this?"

Cousin Julie shook her pink and green head,"Doubtful, aww, I wouldn't
worry, Vachon's just drunk."

The man looked at her with skeptcisim and then hurried back into the
party, Julie paused long enough to watch him start whispering to Knightie
Perri who looked stunned and together they both broke away and ran out of
the club...other began to whisper and Cousin Juie smiled. 

"You guys ready...phase two?"

Screed gave her a thumbs up and John simply smiled, all three put on black
hoods and the truck squeeled away into the darkness... 

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 4)
by John Ewan and Cousin Julie

Time:1:20am EST
Place: Nick's loft
 
The truck peeled down the road at sppeds faster than either Screed or John
wanted to contemplate.  They just held on and hoped for the best

John nudged Screed and handed him an airline ticket.  Screed glanced into
the packet, what eyebrows he had shot up and he smiled.  He tucked the
ticket into his pocket. 

He handed Screed a dark, hooded mask and gloves and a bunch of small
boxes, tied together with string. 

When they arrived at the loft, it was basically empty.  Nick might be
there but they doubted it, probably after the rumor that Janette was back
and with Amy running around believing it, he had made a bee-line for the
raven with the rest of his Knighties.  Good. 

Julie presented Screed with a large vat and he picked it up looking iside
and made a face. 

"Eh, wot you want m e ta do wif this?"

Julie looked up and pointed,"See that Skywindow?"

"Yeah."

"Use this," she handed him a silent glass cutter, "and dump it inside."

"Awfully messy."

"Yes, isn't it?  And be quiet incase there are people sleeping in there." 

Screed took the vat of what Cousin Julie had referred to as GOO, something
made only in America she said, that reminded him of snot, and flew up to
the window she indicated, using the glass cutter to be silent.  Julie and
John stepped back into the shadows as they heard voices approaching. 

"Damnit."

"What do we do?"

"Let him finish and run?"

The Knighties laughed and talked, taking the elevator up and into Nick's
apartment.  Julie and John silently cheered Screed on *hurry, Screed, go
Screed, go, go, go*

Unfortuantely, Screed managed to dump the vat just as a Knightie sat down
on the couch, and she was immediately covered from head to toe in slime. 
Marcia stared in awe and the GOO and tried to step around it, slipped and
feel in a puddle, covingering herself as well.  They all looked up
together.  Screed was gone. 

"Come on, let's get em!!!!"

The Knighties charged.

A hooded figure stepped from behind the bushed, but the Knighties were
distracted as a pair of hands waved out of a truck parked down the
street....they could vaguely hear "GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!!!" 

John took advantage of the momentary confusion; he pulled out his pocket
knife and cut the strings on the boxes.  He deftly flipped open a lid,
reached in and grabbed a pie.  He let fly and *scored*!  A chocolate cream
pie went flying, a banana cream pie next!  Again and again, gooey pastry
flew through the air and smooshed with the greatest of ease.  The bricks
and windows of the Brickhouse were splattered merrily as screams of
outrage rent the air.  //I didn't think Knighties *knew* those words!//

Finally, the Knighties regained their balance and began hurling bits of
slime and pie back at the attackers.  // This is more fun than any party//

The Attackers backed away, and ran, leaving the Knighties with a mess on
the stairs and a living room full of slime to explain to Nick when he got
back from the party.  All they heard was hysterical laughter as the
attackers ran down the street. 

Later--Julie and John, after cleaning up, took their prisoner to the place
Uncle had given her to use, deposited her thre and slipped silently back
into the party...they began to mingle and as they did so, two separate
rumors could be heard circulating. 

Godiva Chocolate free!!!  and Vachon plans to bring Tracy across tonight
at the church, Nick has to stop it, he *HAS* to!!! 

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 4.5)
Or: Candy is Dandy
by Mercenary Gabrielle Stendell

Time: 1:30am EST
Place: The Raven

Gabi looked around the gathering and smiled.  It was nice to get out of
Merc Central and into the city (though she had once again gotten lost on
her way to the party). 

I should be happy, Gabi thought.  Why do I feel so uneasy?

Because, she answered herself, there's something strange about this job. 

Normally Gabi would not have accepted a mission with so few details, but
when her client had presented the beignets, her resolve had instantly
wavered.  But then...then, the Raven coasters had been produced.  How
could Gabi resist?  She gazed lovingly down at the brightly colored
coasters she still cradled in her hand.  (The beignets were long gone.)

Deep in contemplation of her new prize, Gabi didn't notice when the dark
figure crept stealthily up behind her.  As the stranger's hand closed on
her shoulder, she gasped and whirled around in shock. 

All fear left her when she saw the man's Godiva delivery uniform.  How
could _anybody_ associated with Godiva be bad? 

"Gabrielle Stendell?" the man asked in a deep husky voice.  Gabi nodded
eagerly.  "Message for you." 

Gabi ripped open the envelope in a frenzy.  "What could it be?  Perhaps a
grateful client..." 

"Huh?" Gabi squawked intelligently after skimming the contents. "Well...if
this is what they really want me to do..." 

Gabi quickly located the PA system and flicked the switch on.  "May I have
your attention, please?" she announced with a slight Southern accent. 

"Ladies and gentleman, I have been asked to relay this message from the
Godiva Chocolate manufacturers.  Godiva has just unloaded several cases of
their chocolate at the Happy Souvlaki Deli. 

"What on earth is souvlaki?" Gabi could be heard mumbling through system. 

There, Gabi mused.  Now I wonder what that was all about?  She shrugged
and licked the last of the beignet powder off her fingers. 

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 5)
by Julie Randolph

Time: 2am EST
Place: The Raven


The Knighties returned to the party.  Cousin Julie was seated calmly at a
corner table, sipping gently from a glass of wine.  She was alone, and
watching the goings on around her with humor. 

Moments before, at least 12 Merc's had rushed out...cousin Julie smiled,
and she knew whom would be waiting for them. 

A Knightie gave her a skeptical look and then walked over to Nick,
whispering in his ear.  He stood in utter "brickishness" for a moment. 

"You can't be serious."

"That's what I heard."

Another Knightie, who had obviously had a bit too much too drink,
confirmed what the first one was telling Nick. 

"When did he leave?"

They both shrugged, so Nick walked over to the bar,"Miklos, did you see
Vachon leave?" 

"A little while ago, yes."

Nick grimaced,"Are you SURE this isn't another stunt?"

The first Knightie gave him that "look" "Did you want to take that
chance?" 

Nick considered and decided no.  Cousin Julie stood and stretched, moved
through the mass of people and into a secluded corner, pulling out Uncle's
cellular phone. 

"Shhhhh...what is it?" Came from the other side.

Julie spoke softly,"Vachon and Nick are on the way."

There was giddy laughter,"And Cousin Cherri has the Merc problem in
order." 

More laughter and then the other end hung up.  Julie shrugged, probably
had to be quiet.  She sat back down at her table and gently nursed her
wine. 

All is well.....

###

THE GATHERING OF INFORMATION (b)
by Torrey Harris
editing by Sherri Campbell

Time: 2am EST
Place: Vachon's church

< Bang> < mumble>

  Torrey rolles over in her sleeping bag.

" What was that?" Torrey mutters to the group of sleeping Vaqueros.

" Hmmmm?" Askes Crystal still half asleep.

" Nothing....I just thought I heard something...its' probably just
Vachon." Answers Torrey. 

" No ...he said he was going to the Raven to pick up some special
stock...he left around midnight." Crystal said laying back down. 

" Well...never mind...I don't hear anything now." Torrey said getting her
warm spot back on the floor. 

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 6a)
Or: The Vaquero Assault
by Toni C. Holm

Time: 2:15am
Place: The Raven

Cousins Jackie & Toni were comfortably ensconced at a table at the back of
The Raven.  It was quite a scene, members of every faction, vampire &
mortal, all sizes & shapes mingled in happy drunken revels all around
them.  Toni continued to scan the crowd for the Knightie she hoped would
arrive and the Uncle she hoped would not.  She looked across at Cousin
Jackie who seems still a bit on edge after their whirlwind trip in the
silver limo from the US border to Toronto.  Shortly after they'd arrived
at The Raven a slight woman with dark hair and green eyes, sporting a
crystal wine glass had brushed by Cousin Jackie and a small tightly folded
piece of paper had fallen in her lap.  She'd read Cousin Toni the address
on the paper and Toni had pulled her ever present Rolodex and a small
cellular phone from her commodious black leather bag. She'd made several
calls repeating the address and some instructions and had once handed the
phone to Jackie who spoke briefly with her son, and his friends.  Frank,
Chuck and Joe and Zak were stationed nearby with in a red Nissan truck,
completely overloaded with giant PA equipment

Since then, they'd awaited the message that would set all their work in
motion.  Meanwhile Cousin Toni had a glass of Remy Martin in front of her
and was feeling no pain.  There was a brief musical buzzing, inaudible to
others against the background of noise & conversation in The Raven. Cousin
Jackie stiffened.  Cousin Toni leaned forward and took the small cellular
phone again from her bag. 

"Well?".  "They're ready", she said giving Cousin Jackie the "significant"
look.  They gathered their things and stepped out just as the limo
materialized to greet them, wine uncorked & breathing in the holder.. 
"I'm not sure I know how you do that", Cousin Jackie said.  "I'm not sure
you want to", Cousin Toni replied.  As they drove away, Cousin Toni caught
a glimpse of a woman she recognized, an attractive woman, with long light
hair getting out of a cab and entering The Raven.  She looked a bit
jet-lagged, but excited.  "D**m"", Cousin Toni thought, "Well I'll save
*her* problems for tomorrow..." 

"We're picking up the Riot Grrrls on the way, and Ona & Beth" she said to
Cousin Jackie. 

Cousin Jackie shuddered knowing what it was like having her son & his
friends and all that energy in a tight space. By the time they reached the
old church the stretch limo was stretched to it's limits with 14 more
women, all with multi colored hair, odd jewelry and a wide variety of rude
T-shirts.  The last two they picked up, a mis-matched pair of sound women,
one Amazon, one Lilliputian, were tattooed on most of their visible skin.
Cousin Toni had been practicing the whole group in long, loud "Moo-ing"
technique, although one woman, Kathleen, Cousin Jackie thought her name
was, objected that they should oink like pigs if "he" was really such a
chauvinist. 

The limo pulled up outside the old church and all the women alighted,
trying to be quiet.  Cousin Jackie's handsome six foot son stepped out
from behind a bush, long black hair shining in the bright moonlight.
"Everything's set up", he said in a low voice, looking over the new
arrivals. "We can start anytime".  "Wait", said Cousin Toni, taking a
huge, long yellow extension cord out of her seemingly too small black bag. 
She handed it to the smaller of the tattooed woman standing nearby with a
smile. The woman went silently off into the night, pulling what appeared
to be a pair of pole climbing spikes from her fanny pack. 

Meanwhile her partner, the amazon, was checking over the guys work and
nodding approvingly.  "Should make one hell of a racket", she said and
moved away to gather the band members and performers near a microphone. 

About three seconds later, John ran up, decked in black from head to toe
and smelling like a giant cow pasture, handed Toni a tape, grimaced and
mumbled something about *never should have charged those tickets* and
disappeared once again into the night. 

Meanwhile...several of the large group had begun work painting the outside
of the church. 

"It looks... nice," Cousin Jackie intoned.

"Quite." Cousin Toni nodded, and smiled.

Finally the members of the rag-tag group climbed down, having covered
every inch of the church in what they preferred to think of as
"redecorating." 

Ona led Cousin Toni over to the control center, hidden in a particularly
unattractive bush. She put the tape into the player, the back-ups were
set, the mikes were on...it was time... "Cousin Jackie", she said
indicating the console, "Would you like to do the honors?"  Cousin Jackie
pushed the button she'd indicated and immediately held her ears. 

Spotlights hit the crumbling building, a glorious cacophony of sound, no
of....MOO-ING.. burst forth with over 5000 watts of the sound of bovine
contentment.  Cousin Toni waved her hand to cue the waiting performers.
"Mooo-oooo", began Sue, "Mooohhooooo", the others joined in. "MOOOOOOOOO"
, went the cows on tape.  She smiled as though she detected a few small
oinks being added into the barnyard chorus.  Heads began popping out of
the windows & doors of the building.  The amazonian sound woman, Ona, went
among the assembled Riot Grrrls, freestyle bikers and elegantly dressed
Cousins handing out earplugs. 

"Hang on" she said with an evil grin, "You didn't know is used to work for
*The Wipers*, did you?", she said to Cousin Toni as she slipped the pot on
the console to the top of the slide.  A truly deafening chorus of bovines,
and hysterical performers split the night as car alarms on a nearby street
began to sound.  They could see activity in the structure, but hidden as
they were behind the spotlight's glare, they could not been seem by the
building's inhabitants. 

The, all of a sudden, activity ceased... the lights went off, the sound
dies and a chorus of groans could be heard in the bushes, as cheers issued
from the old church.  Cousin Toni looked across at Ona who flashed a
focused light beam at Beth who could be seen handing from a pole holding
the end of the long yellow extension cord and a roll of duct tape.  She
reached forward on the pole.  And it all began again.  A ragged cheer went
up from behind the spotlights as the sound of police sirens could be heard
in the distance. At a nod from the Cousins, the painters and performers
and crew began slipping quietly away into night, grins firmly pasted to
their contented faces. Cousins Jackie & Toni began shepherding their
charges back to the truck & the limo. Cousin Jackie's son looked a
question & waved at the assembled equipment.  Cousin Toni shook her head,
"It's all rented, dear, don't worry, we reported it stolen by a band of
ill-groomed slackers earlier today, Let's go, we owe you all a drink...." 

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 6b)
by Cherri Munoz

Time: 2:15am EST
Place: The Raven then Vachon's church
 
Cousins Cherri and Lisa P. met at the cloakroom.  Without saying a word,
they put on hats, gloves and coats then slipped out the backdoor.  It
would take fifteen minutes to walk to Cousin Julie's truck.  Distance was
the only way to assure plan secrecy. 
  
They quickly walked down the street and into the alley where they had
hidden the full-length dark capes with gigantic hoods.  Even though the
capes were cold, they both sighed with relief as the additional weight
began to warm their already frozen bodies. 
  
At the church, Cousin Mary Gilbert meet them with the rest of the supplies.
  
"Cousin Lisa P.  This is Cousin Mary, my personnel secret weapon." Cousin
Cherri whispered.  "She's going to help decorate the church.  From what I
understand we have an hour to paint the outside." 
  
Cousin Cherri pulled three gas masks from the back of Cousin Mary's car.
  
"Put these on.  We're going to be spray painting the walls with black and
white cow patches." 
  
"I don't want to wear..." Cousin Lisa began to protest until she saw
Cousin Cherri's stern face. 
  
"Look.  I've just completed Environmental Engineering training and you
don't even want to know how bad this stuff is for your lungs.  Just put
the mask on.  No protest." 
  
Cousin Mary took the laundry basket full of paint and stencils while Lisa
and Cherri brought the ladder. 
   
As quietly as mice <Oops, I guess there isn't any.  Screed's been here.>,
they placed the ladder against the south side wall.  In silent agreement,
Cousin Mary held the ladder, Cousin Cherri held the stencil while Cousin
Lisa filled in the patch-work. 
  
Everything was going as planned until Cousin Mary accidentally allowed the
ladder to bump against the wall. 
  
"What was that?" They heard Torrey exclaim from inside the church.
  
One of the other Vaqueros started laughing, "Torrey.  It's just the
church.  oooooooooo." The Vaqueros quivered her voice. 
  
Torrey looked at the door for a second then shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah! 
I guess your right." 
  
The three cousins let out a collective sigh of relief and quickly finished
the job. 

Step one complete, they ran for Cousin Julie's truck.
  
Cousin Cherri turned to Cousin Lisa, "Since I'm the one to think up this
plan, I'll take the dirty job.  We're going to put enough cow patties
under each door and window so that they have no chance but to step in it
if they want to leave." 
  
Glancing at her watch, Cousin Lisa squeaked, "We have to hurry. Vachon is
scheduled to arrive at 2am and it's already a quarter of now." 
  
"Cousin Lisa.  You drive the truck.  Mary and I will do the shoveling.  As
soon as the area is covered, we'll pound on the cab for you to move to the
next door or window.  Remember to stop at the basement entrances but skip
the front door. We'll handle that after the rest of the company has
arrived." 
  
"Right."  Cousin Lisa said happily since she didn't pull the dirty job.
  
"And Lisa."  Cousin Cherri's voice turned menacing.  "One word.  One
crack. One anything about the way we smell, and Uncle will be told.  I had
a talk with him about the problem before we started this raid and he
assured me that he would personally deal with said person." 
  
Her gulp at this proclamation was almost loud enough to disturb Torrey
again. 
  
"Now hurry.  We're losing time.  We have to get this job done."

With five minutes to spare, Cousins Cherri and Mary jumped into the truck,
removed their gas mask, and they sped away to rendezvous with Cousin Toni
which was two blocks away. 
  
Sniff.  Cousin Toni's nose wrinkle with the smell but she didn't look up
from her binoculars.  "I placed the speakers at several strategic points,
those guys won't know what hit them when the time comes." 
  
"Great!  Cousin Julie said that Vachon was scheduled at 2.  Nick and the
Knighties should be along shortly after that.  Wait!  There's Vachon now." 
  
"Heh! Heh.  You should see his face.  It's priceless."
  
Cousin Lisa beamed at the news.  She started to shake Cousin Mary's hand
  
Tired of Cousin Lisa's cleanliness, Cousin Mary grabbed her hand anyway.
  
Before Cousin Lisa had a chance to say anything, Cousin Cherri entoned,
"Not a word." 
  
She clamped her month shut at the reminder.
  
"Wait!" Cousin Toni whispered.  "They're here!  Nick is already in the
church and the Knighties are pilling in after them.  Boy! You should see
them.  The Vaqueros are really in for some heavy teasing.  I can't wait to
see what happens next." 
  
Cousin Cherri had to quickly put her hand over her mouth to prevent her
laughter from reaching audible. 
  
"Go back to the truck."  Cousin Toni instructed without ever looking up.
"On my mark, you can go back to the church to finish the job.  With that
mob in there making the racket they're making, they won't even know you're
outside." 
  
Within minutes after the last of the crowd had entered the church, the
remaining cow patties were distributed and the three Cousins were laughing
and speeding towards Cousin Central, a quick, hot shower, and plan Merc. 

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 7)
by Julie Randolph

Time: 2:30am EST
Place: The Raven and the Happy Souvlaki Deli

 
Cousin Julie set her wine glass aside and wandered out onto the street.
John and Screed wandered up and she stared at John. 

"Ugh...why do you smell like cows?"

"Shaddup."

"Let's go, we need to do pre-planning for Cousin Cherri..."

They donned the black attire they wore for the Knightie attack (minus
slime and pie stuff of course) and made their way to the Happy Slouvaki
Deli. 

As they pulled up, they could see the lights of police cars, several FoD's
straying outside looking freaked out and Merc's...Merc's that looked..to
say the least...pissed. 

The police officers were trying to calm them down, but it was no
use...they had a mad group of weirdos demanding Godiva Chocolate.  Cousin
Julie pulled off her mask and reached into the back of her truck, pulling
out her lab coat from work. *just knew this would come in handy*

She approached the officer furthest away,"Officer....Smith, Hi, I am Dr.
Julie Randolph, those people in there are patients of mine from the
Toronto Mental Institute, I do apologize for the inconvinence, I will take
careof them.  We had thought they were ready...apparently we were wrong." 

The officer grunted, but looked at her badge that said "Dr. Julie
Randolph" and concedded, taking the police cars and other officers away
from the scene at Cousin Julie's insistance that they were only making
matters worse.  Once they were out of sight, Cousin Julie put her mask
back on and pushed John into the crowd. 

"Why Me?"

"They don't KNOW you."

"They're going to kill me."

"I'll let you out the back...just get them all inside."

"FoD's too?"

"What the Hell...sure."

John walked in without his mask and jumped onto the counter, looking
around at a who shitload of angry Merc faces. 

"People, GET A GRIP, come inside, the chocalates in the back, take a
seat." 

One Merc raised an eyebrow until John returned with a large box of
chocolates. 

All the Merc's scurried inside and Screed closed the door from the front
with a loud *BANG* The click in the lock was their final clue.  Mer'c
looked at FoD's and everyone looked at John who split into the back room. 
Cousin Julie was waiting, let him out and closed the door, locking
everyone inside. 

"What is going on????"  Came from inside.

"Eat your chocolate, we have a little gift for you."

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 8)
by Cherri Munoz

Time: 2:30am est
Place: In the Limo on the way to the Happy Souvlaki Deli
  
Three hooded figures pile into an awaiting limo.  It was such a relief tot
have fresh cloaks instead of the smelly cow scented ones. 
  
"It was great that Uncle agreed to supply us with a limo to get to the
Happy Souvlaki Deli." Cousin Lisa exclaimed as Cousin Cherri and Cousin
Mary settled into the vehicle after her. 
  
"Actually.  It wasn't Uncle at all."  Cousin Cherri smiled in a way which
made most people run for cover.  "He called in a favor.  Absolutely no one
will be able to trace who rented this baby.  They won't even be able to
tell if it was human or vampire the transaction was so secret.  Heh! Heh! 
Uncle is really looking out for us....Now, if I could just convince him to
bring me across, I'd be the happiest camper alive..er..dead." 
  
At the look for the other two, Cousin Cherri said, "I know.  I know.
Forget it." 
  
Turning to Cousin Lisa P., she confirmed.  "You **were** able to have the
Ribena delivered, right?" 
  
"No prob.  I had the Ribena relabeled and transferred to California Wine
boxes.  I was assured by the delivery boy that the boxes had been safely
tucked away in their wine cellar." 
  
"Great.  Cousin Mary, what did you do with the cow patch design wine
goblets Cousin Lisa left in the trunk of the car?" 
  
"They're in the front with the driver.  Uncle assured me that the driver
would get them into the kitchen before he left." Cousin Mary smirked. 
  
"Perfect and I," Cousin Cherri held up a tape have the one episode in my
hand which is guaranteed to drive both the Mercs and the FoD's crazy." 
  
"What is it?"  the other two chorused in excitement.
  
"Bad Blood. Heh! Heh! Heh!"
  
The two Cousins held up their hands to cover their faces, "NO!"
  
"Yes!  The episode with the worst continuity problems compared to all the
others." 

***

Time: 2:37am EST
Place: The Happy Souvlaki Deli
  
Before the three Cousins could exit the limo, the driver had delivered his
package and was impatiently awaiting.  As soon as the last Cousin stood
clear, he banged the door shut and the limo disappeared. 
  
"John?" Cousin Cherri spoke his name softly.  "Did you place the padlocks
I had sent over in the wine cellar next to the California wine boxes?" 
  
"Yes.  Uh...uh.  I've never seen padlocks quite like those before.  What's
so special about them?" John asked curiously. 
  
"Like to live dangerously, doncha?" Cousin Cherri's eyebrow shot up.
   
He said nothing but his body language spoke volumes.
  
With a slight twitch of a lip which suddenly became a devious smile, she
said, "They're body temperature sensitive.  Once they've been activated,
anyone who approaches them will get the message, 'Chocolate is fattening
and Slouvaki is unhealthy to eat.' That should keep both Mercs and FoD's
away from anything we don't want them to get into." 
  
Cousin Cherri reached into the depths of her hood to wipe her fatigued
eyes. "Your part of my mission is almost over, John.  First, I want you to
cut off the water supply except for the line which feeds the commode.
(Yes, I know this is impossible but even I'm not that merciless. 
Pretend.)
  
"Afterwards..." she handed him a piece of paper.  "Call this number.  Tell
them to be here in ten minutes.  Oh, and one more thing...tell Cousin
Julie thanks for the offer and we'll meet her at the safehouse shortly." 
  
John started to leave. "Wait.  I need to give my fellow Cousins their last
instructions.  This isn't going to work unless we have perfect timing." 
  
The man seemed ill at ease to have to remain until I mouthed the word
'Uncle' in his direction. 
  
Seeing he was under control for the time being, Cousin Cherri explained
the next step.  "Cousin Mary has never been seen by this crowd."  She
handed the tape to her.  Your job is to infiltrate the crowd, eat a piece
of chocolate so they'll think you're one of them then put the tape in the
VCR. The VCR is loacted..."  Cousin Cherri whispered something in Cousin
Mary's ear. 
  
She giggled.  "No one will ever think to look there."
  
"I know.  Once you've started the machine, it's set to play and rewind
until the TV, VCR, doors, windows, and any other device has been released
at 7 in the morning." 
  
"Cousin Lisa, you are to put the padlocks on all the food cabinets and
cupboards.  The only glasses available to them will be the cow designed
goblets which I will leave out in plain view." 
  
"Finally, I'll retrieve the Ribena from the cellars and place it in the
kitchen.  With luck, they'll be so desperate for something to drink,
they'll use the goblets and drink the **quote unquote** wine." 
  
"One more minor detail, you should know.  The VCR has a built-in five
minute delay to it.  When the tapes starts, a signal will be sent to lock
everything and to set the padlocks to sensitivity.  We MUST be out of the
Deli before the tape starts or we'll be just as trapped as the rest." 
  
"John, you are to let us in and then when you've finished, stand by to let
us out.  Afterwards, you'll be free to go.  You **do** have the key to the
door?" 
  
He held it up.
  
"OK, Everybody.  This is it.  Synchronize your watches.  We should be out
approximately 10 minutes after John lets us through the door." 
  
"It's a shame we won't be able to see the fun and games but I'm afraid
that monitoring equipment could be traced and ***this*** my friends has be
designed to stump the best of them." 

###

FISHY MESSAGES
by Selma McCrory

Time: 3:30am EST
Place: Nick's loft

It was empty.

Selma looked around Nick's loft, now restored from its bricked state, and
carefully checked again. Finding no one around, she set the shopping bag
down and took several things out of it. One was a source of pure water.
The other items were a bag containing a fish, a fish bowl, and a tape
player with a tape inserted. 

She carefully set the fish up in the bowl, and was setting the tape player
up when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped, and looked around
to find Vince standing there. 

"Don't *do* that!" she hissed at him.

"I came to see if you needed any help," he replied, just as quietly. "I
was watching this place anyway, and saw you come in." 

"I don't need help. I'm setting Spikey here in his little home. And I've
got this recording of his owner to keep him company." 

Vince kneeled down with her as she plugged the tape recorder in. "And how
about keeping me company?" 

"I think we've had the mortal-vampire sex discussion before."

"Except you keep being irrational about it!"

"Me? Irrational? Mortal, more like!"

The vampire frowned, and ran his fingers over her neck. "It doesn't hurt
*that* much." 

"Never mind. I don't have time for this," Selma said, catching Vince by
surprise and knocking him senseless. Proud of her accomplishment, she
turned the tape on. She giggled as the tape of LaCroix doing baby-talk to
his goldfish sounded through the loft. 

Too bad that wasn't LaCroix's goldfish.

"Well, at least I've left a brick," she said, looking back at the stunned
Vince. 

###

WHAT'S SCHANKE DOING AT THE RAVEN?
by Catherine Boone

Time: Early morning
Place: The Raven

The people were so lively, so cheerful.  It almost seemed like everyone
had forgotten their war for a moment.  Schanke drifted about the room,
amazed at all the good cheer, smack in the middle of a war.  Then he
caught some of the Knighties glaring balefully at a group of Cousins. If
he could have chuckled, he would.  (Well, some things never change.)

He was touched at the sheer number of people who mentioned missing him. It
just seemed so strange to him to hear members of factions that once
attacked his own now expressing sympathy towards the FoDs.  He always
thought that each faction really had no overlap with any other faction. It
seemed that that simply wasn't the case.  He was deeply touched. 

Suddenly, without his noticing it, Schanke found himself before the buffet
table.  He hadn't meant to come here, he'd tried to avoid it, actually...
he gazed lovingly at all the lovely Indian cuisine, especially the rotis,
samosas, pakoras, hoppers, okra and dal... but he tore himself away before
he got too depressed about his current state of forced fasting. 

But then, just as he started another circuit of the room, an idea formed
in his head.  What if he borrowed another person's body, just for a little
while?  He could go out, grab some food, and be gone before they noticed,
honest!  Usually he wouldn't impose on someone quite so much, but the
buffet had been such a great tempatation, the idea seemed to have merit... 

(But, the real question being, who to impose on?) Schank sat down (well,
as much as a ghost floating on thin air *could* sit) and scanned the room
for likely candidates.  Well, everyone he didn't know he could rule out
right away.  He didn't want to take the chance of angering someone he
didn't know.  Better to pick from those he'd actually met. 

Fortunately, that distinction alone knocked out a good percentage of the
guests.  That just left Natalie, Nick, the Nightcrawler, and the FoDs.
Well, much as he liked the girls, Schanke figured it would be tough enough
to get himself fitted into a man's body.  Finding himself in a woman's
body would be a bit too big of a bite to chew, first time out. Which left
Nick and the Nightcrawler. 

He considered Nick for a long time, but decided that living inside his
partner's brain would be entirely too wierd for words.  Working beside him
had been bizarre enough.  Besides, if he was going to do this, there was
no way he was going to limit himself to protein shakes, and he didn't want
Nick's metabolism to go kablooey (or whatever would happen if Nick didn't
take his shakes). 

Besides, the Nightcrawler had been so nice to him when he was going nuts
over Nick not that long ago... surely he wouldn't mind a short visit. 

By the time Schanke had finished his deliberations, people were beginning
to wander off to their beds, getting in a good night's sleep before all
h*ll broke loose again in the morning.  Lacroix was just now heading for
the door.  If Schanke was going to do this, it was now or never. 

Suddenly it occured to him that he had no clue how to go about possessing
someone.  (What do you do, just walk up to somebody and jump in?)

Funny, it really was as easy as that.

###

TWO'S A CROWD
by Catherine Boone

Time: Early morning
Place: Toronto

Schanke awoke in an unfamiliar room, all black with no windows, and very
little furniture.  "What the heck... hey!"  He looked down at his hands,
that were not his hands, but so much more pale, and longer than the ones
he remembered.  "I can't believe it!  It actually worked!" 

He didn't remember how he'd gotten to wherever he was, but that little
detail barely made a blip on his screen, compared to actually being alive
again!  Living, breathing, feeling, *eating*!  He took in a deep breath,
and smiled in anticipation.  It had been too long.  He leaped out of bed,
and took a peek out the windows.  Stars twinkled back at him.  "Man o man,
is this guy on some kind of wacked-out sleep schedule, or what?" He
considered for a moment.  "Not gonna be too many places open this time of
night."  He snapped his fingers.  "But that's all right, I know just the
all-night take-out place to do the job!"  He rummaged around the room
until he found some car keys, tried it on all the cars parked out front
("Boy, party central, or what?") and was on his way to the Happy Souvlaki
Deli. 

** **

Christine hummed softly to herself, busily arranging cinnamon rolls for
the display under the counter.  Boy, it was a good thing the same company
who fixed the precinct wall in retro time when *it* got blown out were
available for a quick night job.  And they were *so* nice, for having been
woken up in the middle of the night and all.  But they were just ever so
cheerful after their second cup of coffee or so. 

She heard the door bells jingle as a customer came through, and
efficiently rose to take their order. 

She stopped dead cold and stared.  She wished she could tell if her jaw
was hanging open, but as it was, she was completely numb.  Lacroix, who
had entered with a sly grin, rubbing his hands together just *exactly* the
way Schanke used to as he was winding up for his order, took one look at
the stares he was getting and froze. 

He checked his fly.  Nope.  Wiped the corners of his mouth.  (hate that.)
Nope.  Checked for food between his teeth.  (hate that even more.) Nope,
not that either.  Finally he couldn't stand it anymore.  "What?!?  What is
*wrong* with you people?  You act like you've never seen a guy come in
from the cold for some killer souvlaki, or somethin'!  What's goin' on?" 

That seemed to shake everyone out of their stupor, but they were all still
silent and cold. "Nothing, nothing at all, Mr. Lacroix.  Was there
something you'd like to order?" Christine muttered to the floor.  Pam came
in from the kitchen, her mouth open to say something, took one look at the
scene in the main room, turned right back around, and walked back into the
kitchen. 

"Lacroix?  What the... oh, damn, the *body*!"  The rest of the FoDs in the
main room began to not so subtlely edge their way for the kitchen.
Christine kept her eyes fixed on the register like it was the holy grail. 
"No, you don't understand!  It's me!  It's Donny!" 

Christine finally raised her eyes to his.  The look was not pleasant.
"What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Trying. To. Pull.  *Lacroix*?" 

Lacroix wore a very pained expression.  "Aww, Christine, don't be like
that!  It's me, really!"  But they weren't buying.  He sighed and stared
at the floor for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck in contemplation. 

Suddenly he snapped his fingers and pointed at Christine, a sly smile
forming.  Without taking his eyes off her, he called into the kitchen,
"Pam?  Hey, Pam honey, I know you're in there, come on out now." 

A very calm, cool, and collected Pam swept through the doors.  "Yes sir,
may I help you sir?" she asked through half-lidded eyes. 

"You remember the card you sent me a few years back, don't you?"  He
grinned at her shocked expression.  "Now how would... what did you call
him again?... Lacroix know about something like that?"  She looked like
she was beginning to waver, so he elaborated further, "Aww Pam, not even a
little souvlaki for 'your *favorite* snugglebunny'?" 

She didn't laugh. 

"Donny?"  How strange.  It was so soft, he knew he shouldn't have heard
it, but he did.  The two of them ignored Christine's stare turn to downing
comprehension, as well as that of the rest of the FoDs clustered in the
tiny window in the door to the kitchen.  She looked at him, and he looked
at her, and he smiled with more warmth and kindness than the face he
borrowed had ever known. 

"Yeah.  It's me."

Up went an almighty shriek, "Donneeeee!!!" as Pam lost all dignity and
literally leaped over the counter to catch him in a hug, with the others
fast behind. 

And after much tears and hugs, he told them his story.  They understood. 

And, much to his surprise, offered him double garlic on everything. 

** **

Schanke arrived back at the Nightcrawler's home laden down with food.
Fortunately, it seemed Mr. Nightcrawler had been doing his pushups; he
could carry it all in one trip with no trouble.  When he walked through
the door, however, there were several people waiting for him.  They had
apparently been hunched over a map on the dining room table, and all
turned to see who it was. 

They all stared openmouthed at their Uncle, a big "Schanke about to eat
himself into oblivion" grin of anticipation on his face, carrying what
smelled like ten pounds of pure garlic.  "Hey, hey!  Clear off the table,
troops!  There's enough for everybody!"  He smiled graciously and began to
arrange the cartons around the table, politely not noticing that none of
the Cousins had moved, their eyes just got wider and wider... "I figured
you guys would be here by the time I got back, so I took the liberty of
ordering for you.  Just leave some souvlaki for me, huh?  I'm starved!" 

Boy, *that* got them moving, though.  In about two seconds flat the room
was completely empty, except for a wary Candice standing next to the door,
looking ready to dive through it if he even blinked in her direction. 
"You... you aren't really going to *eat* that... right?" 

"Tch!  Watch me."  Schanke took out a big souvlaki, and brought it to his
lips.  He glanced over to see Candice curled up in a ball, with her hands
over her ears and her eyes screwed shut.  (Jeez.  You'd think I was gonna
explode or something.) He mentally shrugged and took a huge bite. 

** **

Candice wasn't sure which was worse, the sight of Uncle writhing in pain,
ready to gouge the eyes out of whoever put him in this position, or the
sight before her, of Uncle happily sucking down *tons* of souvlaki, garlic
pizza, calizones, and gyros, never mind the cheesecake, truffles,
enclairs, and tarts, and making loud moans, not of pain, but of absolute
ecstacy.  "O *man*, do those gals know how to *cook*!  Mmmm-mmm!!" 

She decided that, in this case, really the only thing to do was to get up
off the floor, go to the nearest bar, and get screaming drunk. Because
apparently, she was already half there. 

** **

Schanke burped loudly, feeling the weight of the dinner he'd packed away. 
"Mmm, 'scuzay mwa!"  He stretched in his chair, and felt the first pangs
of guilt over his little excursion.  At the very least, Mr. Nightcrawler
was going to have a bit of a stomachache tomorrow.  But, he reminded
himself, he'd also done the nice man a favor by introducing him to the
fine delicacy of greek cuisine.  "Can't be beat, an' that's the truth!" 

But as much as he had enjoyed the past few hours, and as much as he missed
the feeling of life again, he'd overstayed his welcome.  It was time to
let things go back the way they should be.  So with regret, and thanks, he
slipped into unconciousness, and away into the night. 

** **

Candice returned later that night, having walked back from the bar.  She
felt much better about facing a binging Lacroix.  I mean, everyone had
their days, right?  It wasn't like she'd never watched someone eat before. 
She could handle it.  Besides, it was preferable by far to the other
scenario she'd dreamed up, now wasn't it? 

She unlocked the door to Cousin headquarters, to find the room had been
completely trashed.  Chairs were in splinters... *steel* chairs.  Very
little was left standing in other than small piles of shrapnel or powder. 
And in the center of the room lay Lacroix, writhing in pain, his eyes pure
blood red, and his fangs longer than she'd ever seen them. 

Candice pondered a moment whether the sight before her was caused by too
much drink, or too little.  She softly closed the door again, and returned
a little while later with a case of blood.  She left it just inside the
door, then posted a note in front.  It read, "DO NOT ENTER upon penalty of
death.  It's your neck.  - Candi" 

She checked her watch.  The bar was open another hour...

###

HOOK, LINE, AND SUCKERS
by Sharon Himmanen

Time: Early morning
Place: The Raven

On her way out of the hospital, Sharon ran into Natalie.

"How are they?" she asked, her brow wrinkled with concern.

Sharon turned to look back toward the ward that contained the wacked-out
NatPackers.  "Well," she began, somewhat helplessly.  "The situation seems
a bit more under control.  Jennie's out like a light, and the rest of them
are restrained." 

Natalie nodded.  "Good," she said, holding up a small kit with vials and
slides.  "I'm going to draw some blood samples of my own." 

"You may want to get Tracy to give you a hand," Sharon cautioned.  "They
may be restrained, but . . ."  She let her voice trail of knowingly. 

"Got it," Natalie said.  "Where are you off to?"

"The Raven.  I've got to do something about Amy," she said.

"Good.  I think GT and Kim are still there. They can help."  Then Natalie
paused and looked carefully at Sharon.  "You aren't showing any of the
same psychosis as the others, although I did hear that you, ah, called
LaCroix a lot of . . . interesting . . . names earlier this evening." 

Sharon looked away and shuffled nervously.  "Yeah," she sighed.  "I'm not
quite sure what got into me.  Could have been some minimal effect of
whatever's causing this, could have been me being stupid, could have been
me taking advantage of the fact that everyone else was going a little
crazy so I could get some stuff off my chest," she shrugged and smiled. 
"Guess we'll never know." 

"Well, just in case, let me get a sample from you while I have you," she
said.  "Sleeve." 

Once Natalie had the sample in hand and labelled properly, Sharon ducked
out and headed back toward the Raven, wondering just how in the world she
was going to undo whatever had been done to Amy Hull. 

*****

She arrived just in time to see a flock of people, Ravenettes and Cousins
and Die-Hards swarming from the Raven.  Ducking inside quickly, she saw
Amy, impeccably coiffed and dressed, holding court in the corner, engaged
in a heated discussion with Susan Garrett.  GT and Kim were nowhere to be
seen. 

Hoping to enlist Susan's aid in attempting to unhoodoo Amy, Sharon began
heading over in their direction, only to be stopped short by Nick, who
placed a hand gently on her arm.  His face was concerned. 

"I need to ask you a few questions," he said.

"I don't have time," Sharon said shortly, attempting to push past him.

"It's important," he insisted, then took her arm and led her, more or less
gently, over to a table near the wall.  "Some of my . . . some of the
Knighties are saying you guys stole money from the de Brabant Foundation.
I want to know if that's true." 

Sharon swallowed and looked away.  "I just got back from the hospital,"
she said, turning to look back at him accusingly.  "Everyone's fine.  In
case you're interested." 

His eyes narrowed in irritation.  "I know," he said evenly.  "I called
Tracy a few minutes before you got here." 

Sharon leaned back in the chair, and glanced over at Susan and Amy.
"Look," Nick continued, pressing his palms together in front of him.  "I
just want to know the truth," he said.  "I'm not sure how you did it, but
you took money from the main accounts of the de Brabant Foundation," he
said.  "I have the records to prove it." 

"That is absolutely, unequivocably, irrevocably and redundantly wrong,
wrong, wrong!" boomed a suspiciously accented voice from somewhere nearby.
Both Sharon and Nick looked around in confusion for a second, then saw a
white hand waving expectantly from a darkened corner a few feet away. 
They rose, and joined a small crowd of Knighties who had also moved in
that direction.  "You couldn't possibly have *any* records whatsoever
because we didn't take any money from the de Brabant Foundation proper!"
MaryGT continued, oblivious to Sharon's attempts to silence her.  "We'd
never be stupid enough to leave a trail *that* obvious to follow.  We
*are* NatPackers, after all."  Mary paused and looked about wildly.  "Now,
if you were to take a close look at the interest accounts, and track them
to a rather large petty cash account we set up using that asset, well
then," she said, laughing conspiritorally, "then you'd have us
*red-handed*." 

Sharon groaned, and rubbed her forehead.  Then looked up quickly at a
triumphant shout from several Knighties. 

"I *knew* it!" Perri exclaimed excitedly.  "I knew one of them would fall
for that trick!" 

Amy Denton chuckled.  "We *knew* you'd never tolerate misinformation,
being NatPackers." 

"Or any underestimation of your abilities," Perri added.  "And you fell
for it.  Hook, line and . . . " 

"SUCKERS!" all the Knighties shouted, feeling very pleased with
themselves, stamping their feet and clapping their hands. 

Sharon was about to protest loudly, reminding them that most of the
NatPack was certainly not at their best at the moment, when she saw Amy
move toward them purposefully.  She quickly moved over to GT, hauling her
up to her feet and finding herself encased in a bear hug that nearly took
her breath away, she began pushing and shoving the giggling Aussie toward
the sound booth. 

"OUT!" Amy bellowed, just a hint of a french accent coloring her voice.
"All of you.  NOW!"  The noisy group became abruptly silent.  "Except,"
Amy said, her voice dropping to a low purr, "for you, Nicolah." 

Nick opened his mouth, then quickly closed it again as about fifteen pairs
of hands, all belonging to various Knighties, suddenly clutched at various
parts of his anatomy and Nick was borne aloft to another part of the club
club, where the Knighties surrounded him protectively. 

*****

Sharon stuffed GT into the broadcasting booth, where she immediately
gathered Kim up into a stealth hug that caused the poor woman to squawk
loudly.  "Kimberly!" GT shouted.  "It's *so* good to see you!  I'm so glad
you've joined us.  You have exceptional taste!" 

"Shhh!" Sharon said, putting her hands on GT's arm.  "I was kind of hoping
that stuff would have worn off by now!" she said.  "Maybe you should've
gone to the hospital!" 

"Nonsense!" GT assured her.  "I'm always like this.  Full of exuberant
good cheer.  Besides, I spend most of my life in hospital.  I'm here to
have *fun*!" 

Kim glanced out the booth's window.  "Hey, it looks like everyone's
leaving," she observed. 

Just then Susan entered the broadcast booth, closing the door hastily.
"People are clearing out," she said.  Then she glared at Sharon.  "I don't
care *how* you do it, but get her out of here!"  Susan punctuated those
last words by jabbing her finger in the air in Amy's general direction.
Sharon couldn't remember ever seeing Susan so aggitated.  "I've tried
everything I can think of.  You're NatPackers.  Do something about her,
please!"  There was a slight note of desperation in Susan's voice. 

Sharon nodded, glancing over at GT.  "As soon as the club clears out," she
said.  "Leave us alone with her."  Susan narrowed her eyes suspiciously at
that, but Sharon continued to stare calmly back at her.  Finaly Susan
nodded.  "But I won't be far.  And *don't* get any ideas!" 

All three NatPackers tried to look innocent, GT and Kim succeeding
slightly more than Sharon who could never quite pull that off anyway even
when she *was* innocent, then Susan turned on her heel and left the booth. 

###

LIGHTS, CAMERA, INHALERS
by Sharon Himmanen (with input from Jennie Hayes and Amy Hull)

Time: Early morning
Place:  The Raven

"The key here," GT said, suddenly lucid, "Is to confront Amy with all the
things that make her *not* Janette." 

Sharon looked thoughtfully at her for a moment.  "That's good," she said.
"But what? She's *absolutely* convinced she's Janette." 

"What does Amy have that Janette wouldn't?" Kim asked. 

The three women looked at one another for several moments, then GT's face
lit up.  She snapped her fingers and crowed, "Allergies!  Vampires don't
have allergies!" 

"But Amy has a *slew* of them!  Even she's not sure exactly what she's
allergic to," Sharon added.  "Smoke is a big one.  GT, I think the urge to
have a cigarette is going to strike you any minute now," she said, looking
at GT pointedly. 

"I suppose I could make the sacrifice, even though I've given it up.  This
*is* for medicinal purposes, after all." 

"Good," Sharon said.  "What else?"

"Dairy products?" Kim asked.  "Lots of people are allergic to dairy
products." 

"OK, we can try to get some milk or something into her, but cheese would
be better.  Something tells me I don't want to try to force feed Amy when
she thinks she's Janette.  Maybe use that as a last resort or something." 

"And petrol, or something," GT said.

"Motor oil.  Jennie mentioned that to me once."

They quickly made plans to gather the necessary materials.  "OK," Sharon
said after a few moments.  "Here's the plan.  I'd rather not hit her with
the allergies.  We don't want to hurt her.  We'll try the direct approach,
then the phone bills, and if neither of those work, we go to plan C." 

They scattered quickly, with plans to meet at the bar where Amy was
sitting and drinking a glass of liquid that Sharon noted looked
suspiciously like blood. 

*****

*Why is it I always end up with the dirty jobs?* she asked herself as she
walked carefully over to where Amy was now seated, a glass of red liquid
sitting on the bar in front of her.  Since Amy, thinking she was Janette,
had gotten that drink for herself, Sharon had a pretty bad feeling as to
exactly what type of liquid that glass contained.  She'd need to find some
way to dump that, at first opportunity, even though she'd seen Amy take
several sips. 

"Amy?" Sharon said, moving to stand next to Amy, facing her.  Very
quickly, not with vampiric reflexes certainly, but fast enough, Amy's hand
shot out and grabbed the fingers of Sharon's right hand.  With a sharp
twist she bent them painfully backward and held Sharon there tightly. 

"Ow!" Sharon said, wincing and bending backward to relieve some of the
pull on her bones, muscles and tendons.  "Amy!  Take it easy!" 

Amy simply responded by pulling even harder.  "Call me *that name* again,"
she said in a soft voice, picking up her drink with her free hand, "and
I'll tear your throat out."  When she moved to take a sip from the glass,
Sharon acted quickly, pushing herself forward and ignoring the pain.
Caught only slightly off balance, Sharon still managed enough momentum to
cause Amy to loosen her grip on the glass and the contents tumbled down
the front of her very expensive dress. 

"You idiot!" Amy screamed, giving Sharon such a rough shove that she was
propelled backward and landed quite hard on the floor.  While Amy brushed
frantically at her dress and bellowed orders at Kim, MaryGT loomed over
Sharon.  "How's the weather down there?" she called out through cupped
hands. 

Wincing, Sharon scrambled to her feet, deciding that plan A had ben a very
bad idea. 

"Get me another drink," Amy demanded of Kim, then tossed a glare over at
Sharon.  "And keep *that* away from me!" she added. 

GT reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, getting
one ready for plan C.  Amy saw her, and rapidly snapped her fingers.  "No
smoking," she exclaimed haughtily.  "Give!" Sharon rolled her eyes, then
quickly grabbed the pack from GT.  "Today!" Amy snapped. 

"The phone bills," Sharon added. reaching into her pocket and removing the
AT&T bills she'd removed from the secret compartment in Amy's purse
earlier in the day. 

With an exasperated sigh, Amy reached to take the pack of cigarette's from
Sharon's hands, then turned to glare at Kim as she took her time behind
the bar getting Amy another drink.  She was taking the opportunity to get
a wineglass full of milk and red food dye ready.  It didn't really look
like blood, but hopefully Amy would be reacting to the other allergens too
badly to notice. 

"Here, I'll do it myself.  Even I don't have time to wait all day for good
help!" Amy said acerbically.  At that point Sharon thrust the phone bills
into her hands.  "What's this?" Amy demanded, shuffling through the bills
quickly.  "That's *all*?" she asked, with disdain, looking at the total of
each bill before tossing each one so that it floated through the air and
landed on the floor at their feet.  "Don't waste my time with these
trivial matters.  Send them to the accountant where they belong!" 

Giving up, Sharon just looked at the other two.  "Plan C," she said in
defeat.  "Get the inhalers ready." 

Amy snapped her fingers again.  "Out of my club!" she ordered, snatching
the pack of cigarettes from Sharon's hands.  Wordlessly, Sharon handed her
the pack of matches, just as GT walked up beside her, talking a long drag
from the cigarette.  There was a look of complete satisfaction on her
face, as she exhaled, in Amy's direction. 

For her part, Amy was contemplating the pack of cigarettes, and possibly
thinking about giving this another try, when the smoke from GT's hit her
directly in the face, making her reflexively wrinkle her nose in disgust. 

Blindly she reached for her drink, and Kim thrust the wineglass of milk
into her hands.  She took several long gulps before gasping in disgust and
dropping the glass, again spilling the liquid down the front of her dress.
Sharon took that opportunity to pull out a gasoline and motor oil soaked
rag from her pocket which she used to wipe down the front of Amy's ruined
dress. 

The results were quite dramatic.  Already wheezing and coughing, the
combined effects of the gasoline and oil and the milk made her all but
collapse onto the floor.  A rash began to appear on some of the exposed
parts of her skin.  Sharon and GT managed to catch her as she went down
and eased her gently onto the floor. 

Amy then found herself staring into three inhalers that were suddenly
thrust into her face by the gathered NatPackers.  Gratefully, she grabbed
the nearest one and took several large puffs.  Then she sat there, huddled
and gasping for breath and trying not to scratch, all at the same time. 

"Amy?" Sharon asked, tentatively, moving her hands out of the way quickly,
just in case. 

Amy nodded, trying to breath deeply.  "Benedryl," she managed to gasp out
after a moment or two. 

"Benedryl," Sharon said, looking to GT.  The doctor reached into her
pocket and pulled out a small pack of anti-histamines while Kim brought
Amy a glass of water. 

"Off!" Amy then croaked, pulling and tugging at what had once been a
beautiful dress.  "I want this off!" she said, just as the fabric began to
tear.  Hastily, Sharon pulled her sweater off and handed it to Amy who was
busily tossing the ruined dress aside.  GT handed her a long overcoat. 

"Welcome back.  Do you know where you are and what you've been doing for
the last couple of days?" she asked, grinning mischievously. 

"Oh, my goodness..." 

Amy paused, her eyes growing wide.  "Oh, dear...  Oh, I didn't reall...oh,
my, I did...oh, dear...I don't think I want to talk about this. 

*****

They sat at a table.  GT and Sharon were enjoying a bottle of 25 year old
scotch, while Amy continued to drink water, and Kim was indulging in her
favorite drink.  They'd decided that Amy probably didn't need to go to the
hospital, but Sharon and GT were keeping a close eye on her all the same. 

"We've got the Raven," GT said.  The others smiled, looking around at the
club.  At that, their smiles faded as they took in the aftermath of the
evenings events, and the effects they had had on the club. 

"You know," Sharon began.

"This place is a mess!" Kim finished.

"And we'll get it straightened up just in time for someone else to come in
and take it," Amy added.  "I'm *not* doing the dirty work for the other
affiliations." 

"I think you did enough as Janette," Sharon added, teasingly.

"I suppose it's enough that we can say it was ours for a few minutes."

"I suppose, but we don't really need to have it.  Let the others wear
themselves out, fighting for it.  It keeps them busy and out of trouble,"
Sharon observed.  "And they obviously need it as some sort of validation,
or status symbol.  It's kind of sad, really, when you stop to think about
it." 

With that, the foursome got up, gathered their stuff together, and headed
out of the club, turning out the lights as they left. 

Of course, Sharon and GT took the bottle of scotch with them.

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 9)
by Julie Randolph

Time: Just pre-sunrise
Place: Vachon's church

The police were there, staring in awe as the sun began to rise at the
happily cow patterened church. 

'Well, this is the equipment, I guess the people we want are inside."

"Did YOU want to go in there?"

The officer looked at all the pleasantly spaced cow patties littering the
ground and turned his nose up...YUCK. 

"No, lets just take this stuff back to the rental place and go."

"I'm with you."

Trapped inside, Nick knew the sun was coming up. He also knew that he was
trapped with Vachon, whom he had been threatening for hours about *NOT*
bringing Tracy across, for the entire day.  Vachon, for his part, was
clueless. 

"I'm telling you...I didn't intend to bring her across."

"That's not what I heard."

Vachon motioned around to Knighties and Vaqueros who were holding their
noses and trying not to gag at the smell. 

"This is war Knight..."

"I couldn't that that chance."

"Yeah?  Well, take a seat, we have a day to talk about it."

Meanwhile the Knighties and Vaqueros were peeking out windows and doors,
but finding no passageway that was not covered in cow patties. 

"Someone is going to pay dearly for this" Perri said whilst holding her
nose. 

"We have to get out somehow." Torrey was rapidly coming down with a case
of cabin fever...there were too many damnpeople in here. 

Nick stood and held up a hand, there was silence.

"I can fly...or rather" he looked at Vachon "We can fly you out one by one
at nightfall." 

"We haf ta stay her till NIGHT?"

"Unless you want to go walking in the cow pasture they laid out for us." 

"No thanks--"

Vaqueros and Knighties alike sat down in various area on the floor and
began a plot to reveng this injustice...if they could just figure out who
didit, they'd be all set.  Well, they had till dark to figure it out. 

***

Place: The Happy Souvlaki Deli

"I can't believe I'm stuck in here," a Merc moaned..."I want OUT!!!"

"Well...can we pickthe locks..."

"I don't know..let's...."

Something behind them started whirring, and then the entire bar area
turned into a giant screen.  The music for Forever Knight began to play
and the Merc's were almost happy until they realized the episode was "Bad
Blood."  everyone groaned together. 

"God, I'm thristy."

"Get some water you DOOF!" a Merc screamed at the FoD who was complaining. 

"There is no water."

"Well...look in the back, see if there some gatorade or something."

The FoD came back moments later carrying several crates.  they were
labeled with a very nice vintage of wine. 

"Wine."

"Fine, use the damn COW goblets and pass someout before we all die of
dehydration." 

"Don't you yell at me, this is OUR DELI!"

"AND THISD is not our FAULT" someone else screamed..they looked to the
screen, Bad Blood was over, everyone sighed until five minutes later when
a time delay kicked in and the show started over again. 

"AUGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

"Well..maybe after severlk glasses of wine it won't be so bad."

Someone smiled and held up a cow goblet,"To REVENGE!"

"TO REVENGE" everyone choursed together and drank, there was silence for
about 6 seconds before the entire group started to gag...WHAT IS THIS
SHIT? 

It's that stuff they use on the set...Ribena?  Oh YUCK, no wonder they
hate drinking it. 

Someone stood and beat on the door, smaching their goblet and leaving a
nice bloody streak down the wall.  A lock chimed "Chocolate is bad for you
and Slouvaki is unhealthy" 

"We have to get out of here."

"Any ideas on that, super brain?"

Together, the FoD's and the Merc's joined forces to seek a way out of
their prision as they did so, Bad Blood rewound and began to play once
again. 

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

Place: Safehouse

The Team breezed into the safehouse provided by uncle.

"Everything untraceable?" Cousin Julie looked worried.

Cousin Cherri patted her on the back,"fear not, we left no signs, they
won't have a clue who did this." 

"Well, be that as it may, I think staying here for a while will be a good
idea...don't you?  I think they might try to get us." 

"You're paranoid," Lisa chimed in.

"MMhum...better safe than sorry, besides Christine still has to deliver
the antidote from Lane to Uncle so I can wash off this crap."  Cousin
Julie gestured to her still brighlty green and pink skin. 

She looked over and smiled at Dianne, who was still blindfolded...didn't
want anyone to know where the safehouse was. 

"You let me out of these bonds RIGHT NOW!"

"In good time.  For now, however, come with me and I'll put you in a room. 
No peeking..." there was laughter. 

Dianne was deposited in a room with no windows, and every once in a while
a servant would come to ask if she needed anything.  Her response always
the same,"If you get me outta here, I'll give you my first born child." 

The servant would smile,"I'll be back to check on you later, let me know
if you get hungry, you should be out of here soon." 

Dianne growled.

In the living room, Cousins, Merc's, Ratpackers and everyone else
associated with the hit lay back in comfy chairs to watch TV and take a
much needed break from the war. 

###

ONWARD AND UPWARD (Part 10)
Or: Rat in a Cuzzin'z Cage
by John Ewan

Time: Morning
Place: Safehouse

The Team breezed into the safehouse provided by uncle.

John looked around warily, "I would have expected Uncle to hide me back
with the other empties at the Raven." 

"MMhum...better safe than sorry, besides Christine still has to deliver
the antidote from Lane to Uncle so I can wash off this crap."  Cousin
Julie gestured to her still brighlty green and pink skin. 

John put down his stuff and smiled at her, "A wise philosopher once said,
'It ain't easy, being green.'"  John looked Cousin Julie up and down, "Ya
know, Cuz, if that paint job extends below the neckline it would be
perfect and a big hit at Fantasy Fest down in Key West.  If it hasn't worn
off by next year, stop by and we'll do the 'Duval Crawl!" 

"look here, you *bleep* *bleep* Bleeping* *bleep* from the very bowels of
*bleep* and *bleep* If you don't stay out of my face..." 

John raised an eyebrow,"Didn't know you knew words like that, Cuz." 

*After they were able to stop the bleeding, John got up off the
floor.....*

"Hmmm, does this mean I can't use you as a reference for my Merc Guild
application?" 

*After they were able to stop the bleeding, John got up off the
floor.....*

In the living room, Cousins, Merc's, Ratpackers and everyone else
associated with the hit lay back in comfy chairs to watch TV and take a
much needed break from the war. 

"Hey, do we get "Allegra's Window", it's set on Gulla-Gulla Island
and...." 

*After they were able to stop the bleeding, John got up off the
floor.....*

John checked the bandages, gingerly, "Ya know, we oughta try and get along
here..." 

*After he was able to stop the bleeding, John got up off the floor.....*

"Maybe I should go play a computer game."

###

GET US OUT! (a)
by Torrey Harris and Perri Smith

Time: Dawn
Place: Vachon's church
   
Torrey awoke to the sound of curses and doors slamming around 2:00 am. 

" what the He** is that?!?" yelled Torrey trying to untangled out of her
sleeping bag. 

Vachon stomped into the room just as Torrey got to her feet and the other
Vaqueros were trying to do the same. 

" I can't believe....the nerve...who...why?" Vachon stammered trying not
to step on the group of half asleep Vaqueros still trying to get their
sleep deprived minds to work. 

" What are you screaming about Vachon? " asked Torrey trying to get her
eyes to focus. 

" Have you seen what they did to the outside of the Church!" Yelled
Vachon. " It looks like a whole heard of cows has been splattered on it." 

Torrey didn't have time to answer. The front door slammed open again, and
in stormed Nick and some very angry Knighties. 

" I thought I told you to leave Tracy alone!" Yelled Nick...reaching for
Vachon. 

"What?"

###

MOONLIGHT FEELS RIGHT
Or: Vachon's Secret
by Crystal Guffey

Time: Sunrise
Place: Vachon's church

Crystal's head was killing her and she couldn't breathe too well either.
Someone had painted the outside of the church to look like a cow and put
(gasp) cow patties in all of the hallways. The Vaqueros were trapped
inside Vachon's old church along with the Knighties and the crowd and the
stench were getting to her. 

The prolonged smell of paint always made her a little dizzy and then it
turned into a major headache. The smell of the cow patties, well that was
another story. As the day progressed, things were getting more intense in
the odor department. Everyone was busy trying to decide who could have
ambushed the church and what the next plan of action should be. 

Poor Javier, he looked the worst of all. This was his home, and although
he had spent some time in much worse places, he was trying to settle down
here for a while and live up to the obigations that his master had asked
of him when he was created. *This* is what he got for trying to be good??? 

Crystal looked at his long, shiny, black hair and his sleepy, but bright
brown eyes. He reminded her of a young man she once knew. But this memory
only made her sad and that made her head hurt even worse. Every suitor
that she had had was always compared to this one man. None could measure
up to him. Wherever he was, if he was even real... 

She decided that she had to try to find a way to get some fresh air and
find a little solitude. So, she climbed up into the church tower and
opened a window. As she climbed out on the window sill, she thought, "Ah
this feels much better." As the cool Toronto breeze blew across her face,
her mind drifted back to that other young man she once knew... 

Flashback mode:

"Come on y'all, don't leave ...the lunar eclipse is going to happen in
just a little while. We just have to be patient...come on....guys....Don't
go." 

Crystal was on a hillside on her neighbor's farm in Tennessee. This was to
be the last lunar eclipse before she and her friends were graduating from
high school. They had all decided to climb on the highest hill they could
find and have picnics, listen to music, and welcome the eclipse in a
memorable way. Now, some had chickened out. One guy decided that he might
get in trouble if he was out any later, and his date thought so too. They
had dropped one by one as the night got later and later for various
reasons, until now, only Crystal was left. 

"Fine, go! You'll be sorry. You won't have this memory to keep all of your
lives and I will!" 

Crystal got her cola and took a little sip as she watched them leave.
"Fine, that's ok. I'll just stay here myself," she mumbled to herself. 

Crystal spread her blanket out on the ground and sat down on it. Someone
had left their guitar, so she entertained herself with it for a while.
Practicing her chords (vocal chords mostly though) of course. The night
was cool and she ended up laying back on the blanket and staring at the
stars and watching the moon. There was a bit of a chill in the air, but
this just seemed to make the night more still and calm. 

Crystal lay there, and contemplated the universe and her insignificance in
it (as we all do when in awe of nature and its beauty) and listened to the
night sounds of animals... cows mooing in the distance, the gentle snort
of a horse in the nearby field, the crickets, cicadas, katydids, tree
frogs, and owls, all singing their night songs. Quietly, she heard someone
strum the guitar that had somehow slid away from her a bit. It was so
gentle and soft that she thought it was only her imagination at first. 

Then, she saw a shadowy figure standing near to her. "Change your mind??? 
Good." she said as she sat up. But the young man holding the guitar was no
one that she knew. 

"Don't be scared. What are you doing up here?" he asked. 

"The question is," she asked, "what are *you* doing here? Who are *you*? I
live near here and I *know* you're not from this neighborhood." 

"Ah, me...I am just doing a little moon watching," he explained. "I was
just looking for a nice, high hill to watch the eclipse from. By the way,
my name is John," he said as he stuck out his hand. 

As he came closer, she noticed his long black hair, dark skin and dark
shiny eyes. Eyes that reflected the moon with its darkening shadow. She
felt like she may have seen him somewhere before. But, she was sure that
she would have remembered him. 

"Well, you came to the right place, John. My name is Crystal."

"Have you been waiting long?"

"A little while," Crystal glanced at the guitar that John still carried in
his hand. "Do you play?" 

"I strum a little." he said. "While I was walking up here, I have been
trying to think of every song that I know that has the word moon in it.
You want to try too?" 

They spent the next hour trying to remember song lyrics with the word moon
and having a fun time just singing and laughing at their efforts. Even if
it was off-key, it was ok. 

Crystal thought about him as they were singing, it was funny. She didn't
feel afraid of him in the least. Not even when she first saw him. He had a
gentle, thoughtful way about him that made her feel that everything she
said was very important to him. He made her feel that she could trust him,
even with her life. 

"Look," John said and pointed towards the sky. Crystal looked. The moon
was almost completely dark, except for a ring of light that surrounded the
dark circle. Crystal and John lay back and talked about the magic that
seemed to decend with that ring of light. The breeze seemed so gentle and
soft. The hay around them lapped at the night. 

"You know," John said, "mountains are like a woman's body, the gentle
curves go on and on..." 

"Are you trying to get fresh with me, sir?" Crystal asked with an amused look
in her blue eyes (he was so serious when he said that). 

"Me??? Be fresh??? Never my lady," he answered not only with a chuckle,
but also with pulling her head to rest upon his chest. 

Just as she was falling asleep, she heard the guitar strum. Again, it was
ever so lightly. "How did you strum the guitar?" 

"I didn't, it must have been the wind or the magic, John said drowsily." 

Crystal said, "Oh, you feel so cold. Let me warm you up." She pulled a
blanket over them both and rerested her head on his cool chest and
promptly fell asleep." 

In the morning when the sun shone into her face, she sat up and looked
around for John, but he was nowhere to be seen. Could he have been a
dream? A trick of the light? An over active imagaination? She would never
know for sure she never saw him again. 

The next day's headline didn't talk about the moon as the big news in the
community. The big news was that a farmer had 2 cows drained of their
blood. No one could determine the cause. But police were investigating. 

Flashback mode off

A hand touched Crystal's shoulder. "Hey, Crystal," said Vachon. "Are you
all right?" 

"Yeah, just getting a little fresh air," said Crystal as she turned and
noticed that Vachon was keeping to the shadows. 

"Why don't you come on back downstairs?"

"Yeah, I'm getting a little cold up here," Crystal said.

As they walked back downstairs, Vachon looked at the back of her
brownish/blond hair and was deep in thought. He remembered his hands in
that hair, looking into those blue eyes, holding her in his arms. But, he
could never reveal it to her. Not now, not ever. How could he tell her
that he was the one that had shared the eclipse with her on that hillside
15 years ago? And he had always wondered why he didn't vamp-out until he
was out of her arms... was it the moon, the magic? He would never know. 

###

GET US OUT! (b)
by Torrey Harris and Perri Smith

Time: Dawn
Place: Vachon's church

The scene had turned ugly for a bit...with Nick threatening to do great
bodily harm to Vachon and Vachon trying to convince Nick that he was
mistaken. Now with the sun coming up and the discovery of cow patties
blocking all of the exits...things got worse. 

" What now?" asked Sherri pulling on her bangs ( a Nervous habit)

" I don't know...let me think." Torrey replied

" I meant what I said about Tracy...Vachon." Nick threatened for the
millionth time. 

"He got it the first fourteen, Nick. We were set up," Perri said, also for
the millionth time. 

" OK...THATS IT!!!....I have had it with the two of you arguing about
this. Vachon WOULD not bit Tracy...and if you keep bringing it back up I
will stake you myself!" Torrey yelled...now completely losing control. 

" There are too many people in here and I am sick of hearing you all moan
and groan!" Torrey went on. " We need to find a way out of here now, or I
swear I will start the next war right here in this room!" 

"You want out, do you?" Vachon asked, apparently not too thrilled with his
followers at the moment, much less Nick's. 

"Yes, Vachon," Perri said through gritted teeth. "We want out. Especially
since its' going to be daylight soon,w hich will trap the two of you. And
while I am Texan, that does not mean I want sh..." 

"Perri!" at least three Knighties warned.

"...cow patties on my new boots," Perri finished.

"Fine," Vachon said. "We'll go out the back."

"Back?" Five Knighties this time, four Vaqueros, one vampire.

He looked smug. "The underground route out back."

He had to move fast to avoid the stampede.

***

The van had tinted windows. It was a godsend.

Actually, a Paula-send.

"Where to?" she asked, trying not wince at the mess that the others had
dragged in with them. 

"My place," Nick said, hauling himself out from under the pile of coats,
 mufflers and gloves the mortals had donated.

"Yeah, we can plan better from here," Catherine muttered.

"After we clean up the pies," someone else contributed.

With a mass of groans, the van moved into he dawn.

###

A BLIP ON THE SCREEN
by Catherine Boone

Time: 7am EST
Place: Nick's loft

Catherine woke to the sound of snoring again.  Fortunately, it wasn't Nick
this time, so she didn't search around for a shotgun.  All the rest of the
Knighties were still zonked from the party.  It had been a long night. 

But Catherine was well used to late nights and early mornings, college
staple that it was.  So once she heard the snoring start, she was up and
running.  Besides, she had to occupy her hands so she didn't go lunge for
the culprit's throat. 

She carefully crept around the maze of sleeping bodies strewn about, and
got dressed in the bathroom.  She was about to go look for an early
morning donut place (there was always one somewhere nearby, it's some kind
of law), when she noticed a package neatly titled "Knighties" on the
front.  She decided to open it in the bathroom.  Nice lighting, privacy,
and easily cleanup-able in case it was filled with some random disgusting
crap under pressure or something. 

So she crept back through all the Knighties to the bathroom, whipped out
her Swiss army knife and proceeded to very slowly, *very* carefully open
the package.  Inside there was simply a stack of photos. 

Wow.  No boom, no cleanup.  No shower for the umpteenth time today.

Cool.

She began to flip through the photos, a look of growing horror form across
her face.  As she made her way through the photos, the look
metamorphosized into extreme disgust, then anger.  Finally she could
restrain herself no longer. 

"God!  I can't believe this!  I could take better pictures with my
*point-and-shoot* through his frigging *keyhole*!  Jeez louise!  And I
thought *I* was bad with a camera!  Gimme a break!" 

She rolled her eyes dramatically, efficiently emptying Nick's metal
wastebasket at the same time.  She turned Nick's bathroom fan on high,
whipped out a match, and with a decisive flick of the wrist, sent the
evidence to a fiery grave. 

But Nick, ever sensitive to fire in his apartment (gee, and I can't
imagine why), must've heard it, smelled it, whatever was ringing those
survival bells, because he was standing outside the door when Catherine
opened it.  He glanced casually over her shoulder at the small fire
licking the sides of the wastebasket.  "Exactly why are you burning my
bathroom garbage, Catherine?"  Like the most perfectly normal thing to do
at seven in the morning with three hours sleep. 

"Hmm?  Oh, that!"  She waved him off.  "No worries, nuthin' at all..."
Nick tried to stare her down, his arms crossed in front of his chest. But
she stared right back (like I need an excuse!), all doe-eyed and innocent,
till he finally gave up in disgust, and began to make his way to bed. 

Catherine grabbed his arm at the last minute.  "Hey, Nick," she hissed,
"You know any good donut shops around here?" 

"Schank adored the one down the street.  Three blocks west of here."  He
turned away. 

"Hey!"  Catherine stood with an impatient expression, her hands on her
hips.  "This li'l lady ain't from around these parts.  West?" 

Nick grinned, and pointed.  "That way."

"'Kay.  Oh, and Nick?"  She sweet and innocent smile was back, and her
palm was out.  "Twenty bucks." 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"Twenty bucks!  C'mon, alms for the poor!  I know you've got it.  Fork it
over."  She grinned at the look on his face as he dug around in his
pockets for some money, since he hadn't bothered to change out of his
clothes from the night before.  "You're the sucker who wants kids, Nick.
That includes money-grubbing teenagers.  I'm simply preparing you for
later life." 

As he handed her the money, his face was truly the picture of disgust. 

She got all the way to the door, then whispered a parting shot.  "Hey,
Dad, can I have the keys to the caddy?" 

She managed to whip the elevator door shut before any flying pillows hit
her. 

###

VAQUEROS AND KNIGHTIES? (Part 1)
by Torrey Harris
editing and contributions by Sherri Campbell

Time: Early morning
Place: Nick's loft

*******

It was not a good scene at the loft. In fact it looked like something from
"Showdown at the OK Corral". Nick and his Knighties on one side of the
room and Vachon and his Vaqueros on the other.  At least the argument
between the two vampires had died down. 

"How long do we have to stay here?" asked Crystal quietly, looking at the
group of Knighties across the room. 

"Until tonight", snapped Torrey. 

Torrey was still fuming over the Knighties swarming into the church and
accusing Vachon of trying to bring Tracy across. She had not been joking
when she said that she would stake Nick herself if he didn't stop
bothering Vachon about it. To make matters worse, she was now stuck in
Nick's loft until the sun went down. 

Vachon moved closer to Sherri and whispered in her ear. 

"I don't get it...what happened back there?"

"I think we were set up." Sherri whispered back.

Vachon looked over at Torrey and then back to Sherri.

"Ummm, is she ok?" he asked, motioning at Torrey with his head.

"No." Sherri said flatly. "If I were you, I would keep a close eye on her,
I think she is very close to losing it." 

"Umm, ok." Vachon answered, looking at Torrey.

Vachon strolls to Torrey's side, and sits beside her on the floor.

"Well, how are you doing?", Vachon askes with mock enthusam.

"GRRrrrrrrrr", Torrey growls back, her hair curling with rage.

"Ok, I get it." Vachon says rubbing his face.

"Why don't some of you guys go back to the church and see if there is any
way we can get it cleaned up by tonight?" Vachon asks his group of
supporters. \\Anything I can do to defuse this situation is ...//

"I'll go!", Crystal exclaims.  "Me, too", answers Linda.

"Hmm, why don't you go with them, Torrey?" Vachon asks.

"NO." Torrey answers glaring at the Knighties across the room.

"Ok, you guys go and see what you can do, then come back here." Sherri
suggests to Crystal and Linda. 

Crystal and Linda leave the loft.

Nick walks up to where the Vaqueros and Vachon are sitting.

"I am sure we will get this all figured out." Nick says to Vachon coldly. 

"Grrrrrrrrr....YELP!" Torrey falls back to the floor after discovering
that Vachon had a firm hold on her long hair to keep her from going after
Nick. 

"Let me go." Torrey hissed at Vachon not taking her eyes off of Nick.

"Nope." Vachon answers, casually.

Torrey starts to thrash around trying to get away, but Vachon just drapes
his arm around her and squezes untill she is out of breath. 

"How dare you storm into the church and accuse Vachon of trying to bring
Tracy across." Torrey stammers, once she gets some breath back. "You know
he would never do that."  \\Talk about annoying *forever*
...//

"I'm not so sure." Nick answers coldly and walks away.

This brings a renewed strugle from Torrey to try and get out Vachon's
grip.  Looking down, she sees that Vachon's arm is within reach of her
teeth and reaches down to bite him. 

"If you bite me....I get to bite you back." Vachon breathes into her ear. 

Torrey's teeth stop inches from Vachon's arm.

###

NICHOLE
by Lana G. Soward

Time: Early morning
Place: Outside Natalie's apartment

NOTE:  Thoroughout all of the Nichole Posts, she's heavily drugged.

Nichole hurried away from the apartment building, occasionally, casting
worried, glances behind her.  TONYA HARDING could be following her,
waiting for her.  She knew that she was a Die-Hard so headquarters was
out.  She couldn't go back there.  Maybe she should call someone for help. 
But there was no one to help her. 

They probably all were in league against her.  They were all in league
with TONYA HARDING. 

Although the night air was cold, Nichole was warm, wrapped up in her cloak
that she'd brought. 

Suddenly, she found herself in a park, near a playset.  She sat down on
one of the swings to think.  And slowly drifted off to sleep. 

###

VAQUEROS AND KNIGHTIES? (Part 2a)
Or: Postulation and Brick Dropping
by Sherri Campbell and Torrey Harris.

Time: 10:30am EST
Place: Nick's loft

Sherri was watching the interaction between Torrey and Vachon.  She
started moving when she caught Torrey's motion to bite Vachon...and
stopped when she saw Torrey's face go white, all rage extinguished. "Hey,
Torrey, Vachon, can we talk quietly over in that corner?" Sherri asked
calmly, motioning towards a quiet nook, "I think it would be a really good
idea." 

Torrey pulled her eyes away from Vachon. "Uh, sure... I, yeah." Vachon
just nodded once, and pulled Torrey to her feet. "Over there?" he
inquired, and, at Sherri's nod, towed Torrey over to the unoccupied nook. 

"What, exactly, would you like to discuss?" Vachon inquired, a small smile
playing around the corner of his mouth. Sherri sighed. "Well for starters,
it is imperative that we not let this whole scenario get out of hand. The
Knighties and Vaqueros were allies!  Now, because of *someone else* we're
at each others' throats - um, literally." Vachon and Torrey both nodded. 

Sherri continued. "Now, we have assets that we're not using, and chief
amongst those assets appears to be our brains!  So, as I see it, we need
to determine what is going on, who is behind the various pranks and
attacks, and act upon that knowledge. In between this, we need to mend our
broken fences with the Knighties.." Torrey snarled. Sherri grabbed
Torrey's shoulder and shook her slightly - "let me finish!" Torrey
quieted, and nodded at Sherri to continue.  "As I said, we need to figure
out how to mend our fences with the Knighties - and Nick - because we're
too small a faction to stand alone!" 

Vachon nodded his head once. "I think you're right, but it's going to take
some doing.  Nick is not an easy person to convince that he's made a
mistake.  I think probably it will take something from outside our
'faction' to convince him.  He'll cool off in a while, and in the
meantime, you can plan the next steps to take about who set us up!" 

Torrey had been quietly thinking, still visibly pale from her close
encounter. She had forgotten she was dealing with a vampire... not
something you have the luxury of doing twice, probably. She heaved a deep
sigh, and shaking her head, spoke up. "It's all very well to say 'let's
figure this out' but, it's a lot harder to do, than to say." 

They were interrupted by a commotion at the door. It was Linda and Crystal
returning from the church. Torrey waved them over. "Well, you're back
sooner than we thought!" 

Crystal responded, "Well, we got there, and the City of Toronto was
cleaning it up.  We mingled around the crowd, and found they think it to
be the work of some juvenile delinquents." Linda nodded confirmation.
"Juvenile delinquents sounds like a good description to me!" The Vaqueros,
who had all gathered around Vachon, Sherri, and Torrey, in their secluded
corner, all looked at each other, and broke up laughing. Someone sputtered
"Heck, it could describe any of us - even LaCroix!" and the laughter
continued.... 

A few minutes later, Torrey and the others had regained control.  "Oh my,
I needed to laugh.  I feel better, but I still want revenge!" Vachon
looked at his followers. \\Amazing how fast mortals recover from events.//
Speaking aloud, Vachon offered a suggestion. "Since we're stuck here for
the day, why don't we all get some sleep.  I think it's going to be a busy
night!"  The Vaqueros looked at their leader, and, one by one, they
nodded. It would definitely be a busy night. 

###

A LITTLE PRESENT?
by Perri Smith

Time: Midmorning
Place: Nick's loft

"Perri?"

Perri didn't even open her eyes. "What?"

"Can you come here?"

"Why?"

"Perri..."

"Okay," she groaned, fighting her way off her newly-cleaned (again)
blanket. She stumbled across the room to Nick, and stared blearily at
something hidden in the back corner of the counter. "It's a fish." 

"Yes."

"What's it doing here?"

"I don't know, but I need you to do something with it."

"Nick, fish don't need much done with them. Give it food and it'll be
happy. Better clean the bowl occasionally, or you'll be unhappy. "She
yawned loudly. "Can I sleep now? Between the party, the Vaqueros and
cleaning up those damn pies, I'm pretty wasted." 

"Perri!" There was a definite edge of panic now. "Perri, I kill fish. I've
been through several of them! Natalie made me..." 

If she'd been a little more awake, she'd have giggled. "Nick, put the bowl
down and go to sleep. I'll buy fish food in the morning...er, the
aftern...later." She levered herself away from the counter, knocking
something over as she went. "What's this?" 

It was a small battery-operated tape recorder. 'Play' was pushed, but
nothing was happening. "Must be out of batteries. I'll find some later." 

"Perri..."

"Good night, Nick." She kissed his cheek, fighting the urge to pat him on
the head, and stumbled back to her mattress. Behind her, she heard him
muttering something about drains, and went back to sleep. 

***

Yet another trip to CostMart yielded fish food and batteries. Later that
day, Perri put in new batteries, hit rewind, then play. And then collapsed
in hysterical laughter. "Hey, guys, listen to this!!!!" 

###

A STRATEGIC WITHDRAWAL (Part 2)
by Gaylin "Jasmine" Walli with input from The Unkindness

Time: Morning
Place: The Raven

"Susan, this is for you." I placed a box of Twinings tea in her hands and
smiled. Looking at the scattered Ravenettes gathered around the small
portable television, I continued "As for some of the rest of you all, I
think Cynthia is the person you'll be wanting to talk to soon." 

I looked over at Cyn and winked. She patted the bulging paper bag in front
of her and winked back. Above all things, a Ravenette, like an American
Scout, is ever prepared. 

The news begun and I sat down, but only listened with half an ear. I
wanted to see the looks on people's faces. 

"...Authorites stymied....all coffee in the greater Toronto area...
tainted....recalls and destruction of existing stock....shortage until at
least the end of the month....international investigation." 

That last comment caught my ear. Damn. Well, time enough to worry about
the reprecussions of an investigation later. I was about to turn the sound
down when the newscaster continued. 

"...And in related news, health authorities have removed all cranberry
related products from Toronto shelves because of a threat of product
tampering...." 

Interesting. That one wasn't my work. I switched off the set and addressed
the stunned crew, "There you are, folks. All the coffee in the Toronto
area is or has been destroyed. And I think authorities are being pretty
careful about what comes in through the airports and over the borders. 

"But how long is this going to last?" asked one of the crew. 

"Not long. Only until the 17th if my calculations are correct. But I can
think of at least a few factions that are going to be mightly peeved by
the shortage. The cranberry stuff, well, thats not something I planned.
But convenient, nontheless. Questions? No? Good." 

I smiled, "Now before anyone panics, Cynthia has generously offered to
share her supply of Peet's coffee with the rest of us while we're here.
Anyone for breakfast? I know I could use a cup. My blood is starting to
interfere with my caffeine system." 

###

COUSIN JAMIE FREAKS OUT AND DISCOVERS CINNAMON SCHNAPPS
by Cousin-By-Temperament Jamie M.R.

Time: Morning
Place: Toronto

No coffee.

No cranberry juice.

She voyaged from store to store to store, growing progressively more
desperate... to no avail. 

There was no coffee.

There was no cranberry juice.

Jamie stood in the middle of Yonge Street and screamed curses at the top
of her lungs for twenty minutes, then calmed herself (just before the men
in the white coats arrived) and resumed her search. 

Still no coffee.

Still no cranberry juice.

But she did find another store.  //Wonder what L.L.B.O. means?// she
mused. 

She found out.

//Cinnamon schnapps is nearly as good,// she decided, some time later.
//In fact, it'sh very, very (hic) good...//

"But it'sh not da SAAAAAME!" she howled, at the top of her lungs, and
collapsed into a little sobbing heap in the middle of the sidewalk. 

Whip me.  Beat me.  Take away my cranberry juice.  Make me write bad
fiction. :-)

###

SLEPT TIGHT AND ALL RIGHT
by Lana G. Soward and the Crazy Dawn loop

Time: Morning
Place: DieHard HQ

Dawn woke up the and stretched luxiously.  Great party, she thought.  A
rousing success.  Lillian was successfully handed over to the Knighties
and no one was seriously maimed or injured.  Lana had been worried about
so many warring factions coming together, but nothing had happened. 
Everyone loves a party.  Even LaCroix had shown up. 

LaCroix. 

A memory niggled at her brain.  Something to do with LaCroix.  Something
probably unpleasant, she thought.  She glanced at her co-leader, who was
asleep in the other bed. 

Lana lay on her stomach with one arm out to her side.  She still had on
her shirt from last night. 

She must have gotten home even later than I did, thought Dawn. 

Quietly, she tiptoed from the room and went into the kitchen to make some
coffee.  Soon the smell began to waft through headquarters and one by one
other DieHards began to appear. 

"So Dawn," said Ariel, perched on the counter, with her hands wrapped
around a mug. "When you gonna change your faction?" 

"What?" exclaimed Dawn.  "Why do you say that?" 

"Well judging by the way you were acting last night, I figured that you
were going to become a Miki, or whatever they're called." 

"A Miki?"

"Oooh, isn't he soooooo handsome..." mimicked Leah.

"I *never* said it like that." Dawn responded.  "He's an attractive man
for a vampire, but I would never say it like that." 

"You turned into a bowl of jello, right in front of him, Dawn," said Lana,
from her position in the doorway.  She was dressed exactly the same as
last night, which wasn't difficult since it only required putting her
pants on. "Then when you groped Vachon, I knew it was time for you to
leave." 

"So he's got a cute butt,"protested Dawn.  She decided that they were all
overreacting.  "I merely did what any Die-Hard would do when in the
presence of the greats." 

"Since when is Tracey a great?" asked Ariel pointedly.

"I'm going shopping," said Dawn, ignoring her.  "Anyone else want to
come?" 

The chance to spend a lot of money immediately perked the interest of the
assembled Die-Hards. 

"I'll go," volunteered Jennifer.

"And me."

"Me, too."

"Count me in."

****

The Die-Hards quickly gathered together a group that were going to go to
Eaton Centre, the megamall.  As they were getting ready, Leah appeared and
asked "Has anyone seen Nichole?  Her bed's not slept in." 

"I haven't seen her since last night," said Lana. "She was talking to
Sandra Gray and Laurie Fenster." 

"She might not have emerged alive," joked Jennifer.

"She'll probably show up, later," said Ariel.  "We always do."

Helen and Ariel declined to go with the shopping expedition.  They were
going to see the sights they had missed while they were decorating
Natalie's apartment.  Lana had decided to stay behind to compile the
embezzlement information together, so that it could be forwarded to Felix
Twist.  Several others had still not stumbled out of bed, so the consensus
was to let them sleep. 

The Die-Hards went to become shoppers.  With a vengance.

###

MERC IN CHAINS
by Dianne la Mercenaire

Time: Morning
Place: Some rathole of a room under CERK

Dianne cursed.

And swore.

And cursed some more.

When she ran out of languages, she started making them up, just so that
she wouldn't run out of choice expletives. 

And that was when that <bleep!> servant _wasn't_ in the room.

They'd finally taken the blindfold off, only to lock her in this
dungeon...still tied to a chair. 

Her assailants certainly blabbed enough though.  Everything might indeed
be "completely untraceable," but there was *nothing* wrong with Dianne's
ears. 

Or her memory...

At the mention of Julie's...um..."problem" Dianne had just *had* to wiggle
around long enough to get a peek under her blindfold. 

She'd nearly choked laughing before some scuzzy-looking guy (_must_ be a
RatPacker!) had pulled the blindfold back down. 

She snickered again at the memory.  <_Nice_ job, Lane!>

Apparently _this_ whole kidnapping was some sort of misguided attack
against Lane.  But it also somehow involved a blatant attempt to stir up
trouble between the Vaqueros and the Knighties... 

And let's not forget good ol' 'RatBoy' was in on this too... 

The whole attack had been rather good, she admitted grugingly. She was
going to have to remember that trick.  They'd gone a bit over in the
"Superspy"/James Bond department maybe, she mused professionally--that
happened to a lot of amateurs--but if they thought that high speeds and
breakneck, screeching swerves were going to worry _her_...just because she
was blindfolded... 

...well, they were right, of course.  Sure, Dianne _herself_ drove like
that, but she didn't trust anyone else to do it... 

She could hear the TV going upstairs (was that "*Murder, She Wrote*"???)
and for the past few minutes, she'd also been hearing something that
sounded suspiciously like someone getting beaten up. 

<*Good*>, she thought.  <Maybe they'll all _kill_ each other and then I
can get out of here.>

Then she thought for a moment.  No, death was too _good_ for Maureen... 

" 'Grand High Poohbah,' my *ss!!!" she snarled.  "Kidnapping another Merc! 
I'll see her disbarred...excommunicated...court
maritaled...deposed...unfrocked...sacked...dethroned...and thrown out on
her *a...! 

Unfortunately, at just that very point <g>, Dianne's little tirade was
interrupted once again by that pestering little 'servant.' This time she
was angry enough to switch tactics. 

Smiling her best 'I'm-gonna-arrange-for-you-to-have-a-very-
slow,-lingering,-and-excruciatingly-painful-death...and-I'm-
gonna-bring-popcorn-to-watch' smile, she just stared at him in silence... 

        ...and stared...

                ...and stared...

...until he scurried away like the cockroach he was--his annoying little
offer of help answered without a word. 

Then Dianne chuckled to herself, <Just _let_ him try to come back! ...they
_can't_ be paying you enough, dear....>

She was therefore quite startled when she heard the doorknob turning
again... 

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" Dianne snapped at her visitor. 
Granted, those were probably not the best words to just throw in the face
of a 2000-year-old vampire when he walks in the door...but Dianne had been
running *really* low on sleep recently, (and she always had reacted rather
badly to being kidnapped--just touchy that way, I guess). 

"I hardly need say _this_," his slight sneer managed to include the
room...and all of its contents, "Was not my doing." 

"You needn't say it because it's _irrelevant_!"  The fact that she was
running low on even the relatively small of caffiene that regularly
boosted her system wasn't improving her mood any. "They're _your_
groupies," she groused.  "Can't you keep them on leashes or something?" 

She could have sworn he actually considered the idea--if just for the
briefest moment. 

Not wanting to follow him down *that* particular mental pathway, Dianne
continued to vent just as much spleen as she could find--without regard to
personal safety or common sense. 

"You don't attack a Merc," she explained in her most reasonable,
talking-to-a-small-child-who-really-should-know-better voice. "Mercs
attack *you*!" 

At LaCroix's *look*, she at least improved her tone, "You can't declare
war on a faction whose members are never in the same camp at the same
time...let alone in _any_ camp for more than a day or so at a stretch...." 

Dianne let the rant drop.  After all, she knew all this.  He knew it.  She
knew he knew it, and she knew he knew she knew... 

And, frankly, it was making her rather dizzy at the moment. 

And LaCroix was looking none too pleased with her.  *Heaven forbid* he
should figure out who did the legwork on that little wine cellar incident! 

<Where are the Mercs!  They must be coming for me!  I mean, sure I'm a bit
of a...um..."free-spirit"...and--oh, o.k.!  So I'm a real pain in the butt
sometimes!  But I'm still in the Guild (if only by the skin of my teeth)
and they *have* to come!  It would be bad for business....>

LaCroix was looking at her.  And he was thinking.  Little pieces of the
past few days were about to fall into place. 

Distraction, she needed a distraction, and she needed one *now*.

"Shouldn't they at least be *feeding* me?"  Dianne insisted quite calmly
(for her).  Her face was as guileless as she could possibly make it as she
voiced the words her library research told her should do the trick... 

"I would just *kill* for some shrimp right about now.  How about you?" 

###

NEVER ENTER A WAR UNARMED: 
I'LL TAKE THE HIGH ROAD...
by Dianne la Mercenaire

Time: Morning <Flashback>
Place: Under CERK

Dianne grinned in triumph as LaCroix's eyes immediately began to unfocus
and glazed over.... 

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

<234 C.E., Northern Britannia--on the far outskirts of the fast-declining
Roman Empire>

"Diviaaaaaa!" the anguished voice wailed plaintively.

The woman who still looked little more than a child...until you looked
into her softly glowing eyes, wiped her chin absently. Closing her eyes,
she sighed loudly, and took a slow, calming breath.  Her patience with her
fledgling was wearing very, very thin. 

"What is it _now_, Lucius?" she snapped.  <So much for staying calm.>

"What have you _done_?" he asked in a broken voice, cradling the small
limp body gently in his arms. 

"It's called _feeding_, Lucius," she responded nastily, tearing the corpse
from him and holding it suspended by one pale limb. "This barely counts as
a _snack_!  Just *look* what I've been reduced to eating in this barbarian
backwater...." 

"But, it's an _innocent_," he insisted angrily, blood tears welling up in
his pale eyes.  "A pure soul, one untouched by our evil...." 

"It's a *rabbit*, Lucius!" 

Divia stared in the defiant, unforgiving eyes for a moment, then tossed
the remains into a bush with a sigh. 

"We are _evil_," he continued insistently.  "We have no _right_...."

"Is that what you tell your goldfish?" Divia asked with a small, wicked
smile that grew as she watched him squirm.  "Are they any less
'innocent'?" 

Guilt and shame fighting for control of his features, Lucius could not
meet her eyes.  His voice dropped until it was almost inaudible, "Yes, I
have many sins to atone for against my finned friends--perhaps more than I
can ever repay."  He looked up, pride creeping back into his manner, "But
I must try!  I have not killed a fish...for food...as a vampire...on
purpose...I think...in 100 days!" 

Looking at the beaming vampire in front of her, Divia was hard-pressed not
to just break his neck and be done with it. He had been a complete and
utter embarrassment to her for the last hundred years.  Even the carouches
laughed at him. Steeling herself, she asked once again the question she
never wanted to hear answered. 

"So what are you eating _now_?"

"Shrimp!"  Lucius replied.

"But _how_ on earth...."

"I know, I know," her fledgling responded.  "It was really tough at first,
'cuz my fangs are bigger than their veins, you see.  But then I devised
this little straw...." 

Divia stopped listening as she began to consider the merits of just
shoving him out in the sun one of these days.  Could the Enforcers really
blame her?  Could anyone? 

"...of course, now I'm responsible for all those little shrimp souls,"
Lucius concluded sadly.  "That part I haven't quite figured out yet." 

Divia turned and flew off into the night.

###

MERC MOVES (Part 1)
by  Christina Kamnikar, Merc-for-Hire

Time: 1pm EST
Place: Toronto
        
"God. One more night like this..."
        
Christina was walking in circles around the phonebooth near the CN tower,
waiting for the inevitable call, her trenchcoat flaring out behind her
like Duncan MacLeod's. Cousin Julie had directed her to be there by noon,
with the antidote, ready for the instructions. She'd been there over an
hour, and the Cousins STILL hadn't called to tell her how to get Dianne
back. She shivered in the cold air, more scared now than she'd been at any
point during the War. 
        
She'd missed the chocolate announcement at the Raven because she'd been in
the ladies room, flushing the useless, worthless, stupid microfilm down
the toilet. Because of that stupid microfilm she owed favors to Lane,
Sara, AND Abby, who'd been none to happy when Chris had pointed out that
her precious contract was with the "Diet-Hards", and thus void and null.
Plus, the stupid stuff was proof that she and Dianne had kidnapped Sandra,
and Christina had no wish to find out what Canadian jails were like. 
Chaos had exited the ladies' to discover that her entire faction had
disappeared. At first her feelings had been hurt, then she'd been
forgiving when she'd heard about the Godiva announcement. Surely Maureen
or Dianne would save her some... wouldn't they? 
        
One more thing to blame the stupid microfilm for.
        
So she'd been the only Merc in the club when Cousin Julie had ordered a
drink "in celebration" from Miklos about an hour later.  Chris had idly
asked her what she was celebrating. 
        
"Kidnapping a Merc!"
        
Chaos had choked on her orange peel, hacked, then swallowed the Vodka
tonic without spewing alcohol on the bar.  "Whooo?" she'd gasped. 
        
"Dianne la Mercenaire. Hee hee hee..." Julie appeared more than a little
blotto, although it was hard to decipher expressions on her pink & green
face. Chris realized that this was the woman Lane had gotten drunk and
taken incriminating photos of.  "Tha'll show them," the Cousin muttered. 
        
"You can't do that! That's against the rules..." At Julie's hysterical
laughter, Christina sighed and admitted that with the Cousins, there WERE
no rules. "What are you asking for ransom?" she inquired. 
        
"I'm gonna make them give me the antidote to THIS!" The woman pointed at
her face. "After they get loose from FoD/Merc imprisonment, that is..." 
        
With a sinking heart (and knowing she'd regret asking, but what the heck,
the evening was shot anyway) Chris said, "Imprisonment?" 
        
Julie squinted at her suspiciously. "You sure are askin' a lot of
questions... do I know you?" 
        
Christina held out her hand. "The only Merc available for hiring, at your
service." 
        
They'd worked out a deal: Dianne for the antidote. Chris wasn't even sure
then if there WAS an antidote.  And Lane, of course, would be locked up
with the rest of the Mercs, wherever they were, Julie wouldn't tell her,
something about "They haven't suffered enough." 
        
Up until Dawn's announcement about the fake Abarat, she'd actually been
enjoying herself, unable to believe she was in the same room with Nick,
Miklos, and Vachon. She carefully didn't let herself think about being in
the same room with Lacroix, since the last thing she wanted was to draw
any attention, and who knew if he could read minds or what? 
        
Running back to Merc Central, she'd found Millie at the keyboard, typing
away, looking extremely happy. Chris had thought they'd asked her to come
to the party, but evidently everyone forgot all about her. "I know who
started the War!" Millie said excitedly to Chris. 
        
"Everyone's been kidnapped!"
        
Chris and Millie stared at each other, then simultaneously said, "You go
first." 

*******
        
Millie had helped Chris hack into Lane's computer (and she didn't even
want to think about what the consequences would be if he found out; now
she owed Millie a REALLY big favor) and find the formula for the face-dye.
No file handily labelled "antidote" was found, however. 
        
"Ohhh, great."
        
So Chris had called her sister in Denver, described the ingredients, and
Jeanne had told her what would take the stuff off skin. "It kind of burns,
though," she'd said. "I mean, whoever puts it on is going to feel like
they've just stepped into a microwave, Chris. And they shouldn't wear
make-up for at least two days. You might want to have some Solarcaine
handy for when it finally comes off." 
        
Finally, finally, she got all the ingredients together; put them in a
non-toxic, non-flammable, non-combustible jar; and hid the jar in a
safe-deposit box. No WAY was she walking around with that stuff when the
Cousins were kidnapping people right and left. Nope. 
        
It would have been nice to have someone in charge to tell what was going
on; but Maureen had disappeared, Dianne was kidnapped, and Millie had even
less experience than Chris. She'd briefly toyed with the idea of calling
Nick for help, then realized how much explaining THAT would entail... and
given it up as a bad job. 
        
The phone rang.
        
Chris stumbled over her own feet (how long have I been up? she thought.
Thirty-six hours straight?) and managed to grab the receiver. "Hello?
Hello?" 
        
"Have you got it?"
        
"Let me talk to Dianne."
        
"Have you got it?"
        
"YES. Let me talk to Dianne, or I'll drink it, Julie."
        
A pause, then Dianne's voice on the line. "About time, guys."
        
"No guys, just me, Dianne."
        
"No, me Dianne, you nuts, Chris. Where the h*** is the Grand Poohbah and
the required SWAT team?" 
        
"Ask your happy captor, she seems to know where everyone is. The only one
at Central is Millie, who, by the way, knows who started the War." 
        
"Do I _want_ to know?"
        
"Uh..." Chris realized that someone was almost certainly listening to this
conversation. "No. You don't." 
        
Abruptly, Julie's voice came back on the line. "Okay, Merc. Time for
marching orders." 

###

MERC MOVES (Part 2)
by Christina Kamnikar (w/input from Mildred Cady, Gabrielle Stendall, and
Lane Lombardia)

Time: 1:43pm EST
        
The walk back to Merc Central was long and unpleasant. Chris barely
noticed the city around her, the traffic, where she was going... she was
completely preoccupied with the task that lay ahead of her.  A highly
terrifying task; in fact, if there was ANY way out of it, she'd take it.
She just couldn't think of one right now. 
        
Millie was waiting for her in the command room, her face glum. "The trace
didn't work," Chris guessed as she walked in, shedding her trenchcoat and
slumping into one of the chairs around the war table. 
        
"Nope. Nada. Niento. Zip." Millie flicked the computer in disgust. "They
tumbled the phone, the way Zillah does. Somehow I don't think they're
holding Dianne in Madagascar." 
        
"Pretty unlikely. How about tracking down the rest of our happy band?" 
        
"I called the Raven; they seemed to think that we were all at the Happy
Souvlaki." 
        
Chris frowned.  "Did you call there to see if they were right?"
        
"The phone's out." Millie smiled. "I was going to go check in person as
soon as you got back. How did it go, by the way?" 
        
"Not good." Christina debated lying to Millie, then realized she was too
tired to come up with anything convincing. "After sundown. On the docks. 
Lacroix is going to meet me, take the antidote back to Julie; then come
back with Dianne. Which means he's probably going to fly, which means..."
She closed her eyes in weariness and suppressed fear. 
        
"It'll be nearly impossible to follow him." Millie shook her head, biting
her lower lip in apprehension. Then she brightened. "What if we put some
sort of tracker in the bottle?" 
 
Opening her eyes, Chris considered it, then nodded. "Yeah. A high radio
frequency---one even too high for vampires to hear. We'll need to
triangulate the position, but it should work." She rubbed her neck, and
forced a smile. "I really, really hope the others are all at the Deli, and
that we can get them out of there. There's no WAY we can get Dianne back
with just the two of us." 
        
"Maybe the stuff won't burn Julie that bad," Millie offered
optimistically. 
        
"Maybe. But we STILL can't trust them to release her, even if the antidote
works. Besides, we're Mercs, we don't pay ransom, we demand it." Chris got
up and began to pace. "The idea of meeting Lacroix is what scares me. Of
all the FK people I get to meet in person, why him? Hunh? Why? It couldn't
be Nick, or Natalie, or even Tracy, for godssake?  No, it had to be the
Prince of Nightmares.  He really, really frightens me." 
        
"He wouldn't hurt one of us. And he knows Dianne pretty well, she told me
so," Millie said uncertainly.  "Besides, it would infuriate Nick, and he
doesn't want that." She reached for the phone. "We should call him." Chris
nodded, starting to cheer up.  Maybe someone else COULD deal with this.
Millie's face dropped; then she hung up and re-dialled. "Answering
machine," she said by way of explanation to Chris, then, as the phone
connected again, she said, "I'm trying to find Detective Knight? I know
he's not on duty, but..." Her expression sobered. "No idea where he is? He
was supposed to check in?... Thanks anyway." She hung up the phone. 
        
Chris turned and very calmly started to knock her head against the
doorframe. "Chris!" Millie yelled in surprise, causing the brunette to
stop suddenly. 
        
"You know, they're right? It really does feel good when you stop," the
other Merc marvelled, then winced, breathing heavily. "Okay. We're on our
own.  You check the deli. I'll see if anyone else is on the loose, I've
left messages everywhere, and one on the machine, so if anyone isn't at
the Happy Souvlaki, they'll come looking for us." 
        
"Maybe we can get help from some of the other factions."
        
"If we can find them. The Knighties aren't where they're supposed to be,
and the FoD's must be in the Deli with our guys if they're not being held
somewhere else. Besides, can you see the Natpackers or the Ravenettes
leading a rescue team for the Mercs?" 
        
"No," Millie admitted reluctantly. "I still can't believe the Natpackers
started this War. They HAVE to have had a good reason." Millie reached for
her coat and put it on. "I'm off to the deli. I'll call you on the
cellular if our guys ARE actually there, and if there's a problem." 
        
"Great. Thanks, Millie. I'll put together the tracker while you're gone."
Brooding, Chris watched the hacker leave, then started to shake. Lacroix.
Ohhhhhhh, beautiful. She'd always been scared of him; he reminded her of
Hannibal Lecter, not because he was man-eating, but because he could mess
with your head so badly. Mike, the creep who'd dated her actress friend
Pam in college, had been like Lacroix---conscienceless, manipulative, and
genuinely unable to understand WHY you didn't appreciate the little games
he'd play, turning your words back on you, making you question your own
motives, making you feel stupid and naive... Get a grip, Chris. He isn't
interested in you. He'll take the antidote, fly away, and you'll never
have to see him again. Just... chill. 
        
Christina sat down to do some serious electronics work, praying that the
other Mercs would soon be free and this wouldn't be her problem any more.
The outer door slammed; she didn't look up, assuming that Millie had
forgotten her keys. "What're you doing?" a woman's voice asked. 
        
Looking up in surprise, Chaos saw Gabrielle Stendall standing in the
doorwary, watching her efforts with the stopper and the tracer with
interest. "Where the heck have you been? Why aren't you a prisoner like
the others? How---" 
        
Gabrielle made a "time-out" motion with her hands. "Hang on, one question
at a time... where is everyone?" 
        
Chris quickly brought her up to speed; she was just explaining where
Millie went when the phone rang. "Merc Central," Chris answered. 
        
"They're here! They're okay, but they can't get out---someone's boarded up
the windows and doors.  We'll have to bust them out." 
        
"Terrific. I think I know how to do that." Chris grinned maniacally and
hung up the phone, grabbed the stopper, transmitter, cel phone and her
trenchcoat, and ran for the garage, yelling to Gabrielle over her
shoulder, "C'mon, we've got Mercs to rescue!" 

###

PARTY (*NOT*!) AT THE HAPPY SOUVLAKI
by Virginia Foster

Time: 2:15pm EST
Place: The Happy Souvlaki Deli

They had lost count of how many times "Bad BLood" had played.

"Virginia, haven't you found that VCR yet?", Berg moaned.

"No and a little help would be appreciated!", she snapped back.

Several hours trapped in the Happy Slouvaki Deli was making everyone more
than a little testy.  Earlier that night a man claiming to represent the
Godiva(tm) company had claimed that his company was prepared to turn over
several cases of chocolate to the Mecenaries. The Mercs had rushed to the
Happy Slouvaki Deli in anticipation only to discover a group of confused
FoD's.  The group had been ushered to the back of the deli to the promised
chocolate. 

Unfortunately, the whole thing had been an elaborate setup. The Mercs were
now trapped in the deli with nothing but bottles of Ribena, and a hidden
vcr playing "Bad Blood" endlessly.  Worst of all, not chocolate. The Mercs
were out for blood. 

Maureen was at the door trying to figure out a way to get it open. 

"Would you two quit arguing and just find the blasted VCR?  I can't take
much more of "Bad Blood", Maureen pleaded. 

"Can't you just blast the door open?", one of the FoD's wanted to know. "I
thought you Mercs carried all kinds of weapons". 

Maureen gave the FoD a withering look. "No we don't carrying explosives as
a general rule, especially to a party. Virginia, are you sure we can't use
that sword of yours to whack at this door." 

Virginia paused in her search for the VCR.  "No", she sighed. "It's not
like it's really Connor's katana or something.  I'm afraid it'll bend and
still won't get the door open."  She went back to searching the cabinets
for the VCR.  "it will however be useful to hack that stupid tape up when
we find it. 

Pam spoke up at that point, "No, you can't do destroy the deli in trying
to get out. After all, some of us are trying to make a living here." 

Sonja was came up to Pam, "Look this is your deli, right? Don't you know a
way out of here?" 

Pam looked dismayed.  "This place was built with lots of security in mind,
but we never planned on needing secret ways out!" 

Berg was inspecting the television for the nth time to find a way to shut
it off.  The Ribena was bad enough, but at least one could ignore it until
one was *really* thirsty.  The television, however, couldn't be shut off
or turned down.  And "Bad Blood" rolled on. over, and over, and over..... 

Maureen kicked the door in frustration.  "The other Mercs had better hurry
and get us out of here.  And when I get my hands on the ones responsible
for this...". 

###

REDECORATING THE SOUVLAKI!
by Christina Kamnikar

Time: 2:30pm EST
Place: The Happy Souvlaki Deli
        
Chris, Gabrielle, and Millie were scoping out the deli---Chris was wishing
she'd been here before, so she'd have a better idea of how to get the Merc
& FoD's OUT of there---and trying to come up with ideas of how to deep-six
the blockades around the entrances when Lane drove up in a really, really
cool car. Equal parts shock, envy, and relief hit Chris; Lane was sneaky,
cunning, and very ruthless. He'd think of something. 
        
"I got the message off the answering machine," he said as he approached,
eying the massive boards, concrete, and iron bars around the once-cheerful
restraunt.  "How many of them are in there?" 
        
"All of them, except us, plus the FoD's.  Any suggestions?"
        
"Wire cutters and jackhammers..."
        
"It'd take too long. Plus, we don't have the permits for that sort of
thing." 
        
"Uh, a construction crew..."
        
"Take too long and cost too much. Maureen's in there, and she's the one
with access to the Merc accounts; plus, do you know about Dianne?" 
        
"What about Dianne?" Lane asked, studying the truly horrific restraining
job someone had done around the edges of the front door. 
        
"She's been kidnapped too, but we don't know where she's being held,
and..." Chris took a deep breath, tried to calm down. "We have to give the
ransom after sundown, and we NEED the rest of the others if we're going to
rescue her." 
        
"Why are we doing that?" Lane actually looked puzzled; Chris could have
smacked him. 
        
"Because she's one of us!"
        
"So? She'll get free on her own."
        
"With all of the Cousins watching her? AND Lacroix?" Lane appeared mildly
worried at that point, so Chris pushed the advantage. "We need to get the
rest of them out of there if we're going ot manage this. I had to hack
into your computer to get the antidote to Julie's face paint---" 
        
"There is no antidote. And you did _what_ to my computer?" NOW he was
upset; Christina reminded herself not to ever rescue this guy, unless
someone was paying her; then she dismissed the thought as too calculating,
cold, and heartless. Maybe she'd been hanging out with these guys too
long. 
        
"I had to! Okay! Let's worry about that later!"
        
Gabrielle joined them just then, her face grim. "I talked to Maureen
through one of the openings; there wasn't any chocolate, but someone left
Ribena and a continuing loop of "Bad Blood" for them to watch." The two
other Mercs shuddered in unison. "Maureen said they 'fixed it' but she
wouldn't say how. And she's demanding we get her out of there before they
all go stir-crazy or die of thirst." 
        
"Had to be Cousins," Lane said thoughtfully. "And if Julie's doing this
because she can't take a little joke... allright, we'll settle up about
the hacking later. I have an idea. Chris, you _are_ an engineer, right?" 
        
"Of course." Christina appeared offended that anyone would forget it.
        
"Then listen, here's what we'll do..."

***
        
Chris was still muttering over a sheet of paper an hour later when Lane
and Millie returned with the necessary materials.  "God, Pam is going to
_kill_ me. Worse, she'll never let me be served here again.  Okay, with
the angles of force like this... and maybe, just maybe, enough pressure
here..." 
        
Gabrielle pushed her auburn hair out of her face, eying the calculations
dubiously. "Have you ever done this before?" 
        
"Not... exactly."
        
"Are you sure it'll work?" The computer major studied the numbers on the
page, feeling clueless, but more than that, worried. All of their
compatriots and the nice FoD's were in that deli. If Chris figured this
wrong... Gabi felt vaguely guilty about having made the announcement at
the Raven; but how was she supposed to know it was bogus? If someone
offered her beignets, she did what they asked. 
        
"No. Be ready to call 911 if I figured this out wrong. This is an
engineer's worst nightmare, you know. I could lose my certification for
this, my job, my career," Chris sighed. "Well, maybe it won't count
because it's in Canada." 
        
Lane came approached them with the dynamite sticks, the blasting powder,
and the dampers; Millie was holding several coils of wire. "Got it." 
        
"Do I want to know how?"
        
Lane just grinned, and Christina rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine.
Whatever! Just put it at the edges of the front like this---" she held out
the paper to Lane, and copy to Millie. "Warn the guys inside to go to the
very, very BACK of the deli, Gabrielle. If I figured this wrong, maybe the
worst that'll happen is that they'll still be trapped." The other Merc
nodded, and skipped off to talk through one of the blocked windows to
those trapped inside. Lane and Millie approached the front of the
building, and carefully set the dynamite at the angles outlined by Chris,
so that only the joins on the front of the deli would give way.  There was
simply too much blocking the door; Chris had calculated that trying to
blow up the entrance would only collapse the roof, or (much more likely)
injure those inside. Half an hour later, they were ready. 
        
Gabi came back, looking worried. "Pam was swearing in Polish and Italian,
and Maureen said she'd kick you out of the Guild if this didn't work, but
they're all ready." 
        
"Sweet," Christina muttered under her breath. "Lane, is it set?"
        
"Just like you drew it."
        
"Millie, are you sure the wires are far enough away?"
        
"Yes, Chris," Millie made calming motions with her hands as she came back.
"It's all ready. How are we going to explain this, though, if we don't
have the permits to do something minor like jackhammer the front?" 
        
"Act of God." Lane grinned.
        
"Sounds good to me," Chris concurred. "Okay, everyone back..."
        
They crossed to the other side of the street; fortunately, their obvious
determination and professionalism had intimidated local passersby into
avoiding that part of the sidewalk, and Gabrielle had quickly talked the
owners of the shops on either side into taking a break for an hour while
they dealt with the H.S. deli problem. She'd claimed they were part of
RESCUE 911, and that their shops would be on TV, figuring (correctly) that
people put up with a LOT if they thought they were about to get on TV. 
        
"Ready?" Chris asked, raising the plunger on her detonator.
        
"Ready." Gabi nodded, raising hers.
        
"3...2...1!" They lowered the plungers.
        
The spark travelled along the wires, hitting the dynamite on the edges of
the deli ten seconds later, and a small explosion and a puff of white
smoke went up from the front corners of the deli. 
        
"That's it?" Lane looked disappointed.
        
Christina glared at him. "That's all it took, Lane. Huge explosions are
for amateurs and TV shows. Bigger isn't always better, okay?" The four of
them started across the street, ready to free the rest of the joins with
crowbars, which was when the real Act of God occured. 
        
A young brunette wearing a black cloak and weaving dizzily was crossing
the sidewalk immediately in front of the deli; Lane shouted a warning to
her suddenly, and Chris could see that the entire front of the Happy
Souvlaki was about to come crashing forward into the street. The blast had
loosened ALL of the joins, so that the facade was separate from the deli.
Sickened, the Mercs outside could see that the young woman was about to be
crushed by the loosened front! 
        
With a horrendous squeal, the front came down, only to stop, with a crunch
like crashing metal, at a forty-five degree angle above the sidewalk. The
young woman stared up with a dazed expression, not seeming to understand
what was happening; Chris could see that some of the struts were still
intact, keeping the facade from collapsing, but it wouldn't hold much
longer. Just as the approaching Mercs were certain the pedestrian would be
smashed, she stepped out into traffic, nearly getting hit by a truck, then
weaved casually around the deli, only to have it >>SMASH!!<< down to the
ground behind her. 
        
The trapped Mercs and FoD's came pouring out of the redecorated Souvlaki.
Chris could hear Maureen's distinctive voice battling with Pam Rush's, Pam
saying the Mercs had to pay for the damage, Maureen saying it was the
Cousins' fault, both screaming at the top of their lungs. Probably release
of tension, Chris thought. 
        
"YOU! You did this to my restraunt!" Pam said, spotting Chris and
approaching her with murder in her eye. 
        
"Uhh...."
        
"How COULD YOU DO this? HOW? HOW? It's ruined!!" On the verge of tears,
the FoD leader gestured to the missing front, the deli now sporting an
open-air look that wasn't unattractive, if one ignored the dangling
struts. 
        
"Well---"
        
"You know, Pam," Millie said, jumping in. "I kind of like it." Chris shot
her a grateful look. 
        
"Yeah," Gabrielle chimed, "It's sort of like a cafe now. I mean, if you
just extended the awnings..." 
        
"And maybe did some work on the edges," Lane offered.
        
"It'd be a whole new look!"
        
Pam didn't appear convinced, but Maureen decided to start acting like a
leader at that point. "Pam, we had to get out of there. It was either
this, or something that would have required an even longer time to do, and
frankly, I don't think either of us wanted that." Pam sniffed. "It's the
Cousins fault, you know that. Go after them if you're mad; or better yet,
hire us to do it." 
        
"Well... maybe," the FoD groused.
        
"Maureen, we have to go rescue Dianne now," Chris said, seizing the
opportunity to get her leader's attention. 
        
"We do?" Maureen appeared mildly surprised, and Chris was reminded of
Lane's reaction when she'd said the same thing earlier. 
        
"YES. It's... it's in the Charter, and Julie wants the antidote, and it's
not fair, and Dianne could be getting TORTURED or MAIMED or..." 
        
"No, no, no," Maureen shook her head, and patted the younger Merc
soothingly. "They won't hurt her. Not permanently, anyway." 
        
"Maureen, I have to agree with Chris," Lane said reluctantly. He'd been
holding the erstwhile near-bombing victim by the arm a few minutes ago;
Chris wondered where she went. Well, wherever she was, maybe someone was
watching out for her---her guardian angel sure had been doing her job
earlier. "They're trying to do a payback for a job I did on Julie. They
should know better, and we can't just give them the antidote. It'd ruin
our reputation." 
        
Maureen's eyes began to glow. "Hmmm. There is that. And I suppose Dianne
has suffered enough at this point.... tell me what we need to do." 

###

I WANNA HELP, TOO. CAN I, HUH, PLEASE?
by Jamie M.R. -- The Illustrated Cousin

Time: 3pm EST
Place: Outside the Happy Souvlaki Deli

Standing a safe distance away from the Happy Souvlaki Deli, waiting for
something to happen, Cousin Jamie had a flashback: 

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

"Tara.  Tara...   TARA!"

"Hmmm?"  The redhead tore herself away from misty daydreams of Miklos.
"Oh. Chris, this is Jamie, the Cousin you're protecting.  Jamie, this is
Chris, your Merc.  You're in her hands now." 

"Hello," said Christina absently, preoccupied with details of the upcoming
rescue effort. 

"Hiya," Jamie said.  "So you're supposed to guard me, huh?  You'd better
do a good job; the last thing I need is to be massacred by members of my
own faction, when all I was trying to do was preserve poor Uncle's sanity,
and encourage the return of GOOD decor..." 

"Uh-huh," said Christina, trying to block out her awareness of Jamie's
incessant rambling; she really did have more important things to worry
about than a talkative Cousin.  A job was a job, and payment was payment,
but with the members of her Guild in trouble... 

"So how're you gonna guard me, huh?  You gonna watch over me day and
night? 'Cause my people are devious and sneaky and cruel, remember..." 

Christina wondered briefly how Jamie could refer to the Cousins as 'her
people' after what had transpired, set the thought aside.  "Listen," she
said, in a vain attempt to shut Jamie up, "I have a few, um, things to do
before I begin your assignment..." 

"H*** with that!  I'm in danger *now*!"  Jamie's eyes narrowed.  "You're
supposed to guard me," she said pointedly.  "And you'd better, 'cause if I
get killed, my ghost is gonna come and make sure you NEVER get paid."
Abruptly, the suspicious look vanished, replaced by puppydog eagerness.
"What're you gonna do?" she asked.  "Can I come along?" 

"You'll be walking straight into the jaws of death," Christina warned, and
winced at the cliche. 

Jamie didn't bat an eyelash.  "Cool," she said.  "Let's go." 

"You had better do *exactly* as you are told," the Merc warned, "and if
you get one of your inconvenient attacks of *ethics* along the way, I'm
going to serve you up to LaCroix on a platter..." 

"Always wanted to be an hors d'oeuvre," Jamie giggled, following her
bodyguard.  "Don't worry, I'll be good." 

And Christina worried about what a Cousin's definition of "good" might
entail... 

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

...Cousin Jamie came out of her flashback just in time to witness the
event; and she stood and watched with awe and delight as the front of the
building peeled away.  //Wow,// she thought.  //That is just *so* f@#$ing
cool!//

A young woman stumbled past, and Jamie caught her arm.  "Hey," she said,
"you okay?" 

"Um, I dunno," the woman said.  "I guess so.  I'm not sure." 

Jamie laughed ruefully.  "Welcome to the war," she said.  And dug into her
pocket.  "Here." 

"What's this?" the brunette wondered, taking the tiny shiny coin.

"It's a subway token," Jamie told her.  "So that when you figure out where
you're going, you can get there." 

"Oh," said the other, "okay.  Thanks," and she stumbled along on her way,
down the street. 

Jamie watched her go; then went to find her bodyguard, and discover what
other cool stuff might happen next... 

###

THE HORROR OF IT, THE SHAME
by Jamie M.R., The Illustrated Cousin

Time: After 3pm EST

"Jamie!"  Christina the Merc bent over her in alarm.  "What's wrong?"

The Cousin was writhing on the ground in evident agony.  "It's terrible,"
she cried.  "It's horrible!  I've been brutally traumatized,
psychologically scarred for life!" 

"What?  What's wrong?"

She pointed one trembling finger at the laptop she'd been using to check
her e-mail.  "The quote list from Cousin Laurie Fenster's party is out!" 

###

TRIGGERED MEMORIES
by Dawn Steele 

Time: Afternoon
Place:Downtown Toronto - Eaton Center

Dawn pushed herself through the ebbs and tides of the afternoon shopping
within the Eaton Centre. She'd separated from the other DieHards a couple
hours ago, and they'd agreed to meet fairly soon at the other end of the
huge mall.  //This place is huge!//

Dawn pulled out her small map of the Eaton Centre. The shopping mall was
on four levels, and spanned a distance between two subway stations along
Yonge St. //I've been here before, but it always freaks me out.//

//Speaking of freaking out, they were really acting wierd before.// Dawn
thought back to her actions of the night before at the party. //So I
showed my enthusiasm with the show. There's nothing wrong with that.//
Suddenly she winced. //Okay, maybe pinching Javier on the butt was a bit
overboard, but he does have a nice one.//

She moved determidly into the Eaton's store, and onto the bottom floor
where she bought a 400 g chocolate almond bar for $3.50 (Canadian).
//Definitely a must buy for any chocoholic.// Dawn broke herself off a
piece and stuffed it in her mouth. //Happy Birthday to me!//

//I wonder what I'd be doing if I was still in Fredericton instead of in
Toronto today. Probably going to classes.// She savoured the sense of
melting chocolate in her mouth. //I'm probably missing a birthday cake
though... C'est la vie!//

Dawn wrapped up the remainder of the chocolate bar to share with the other
Die Hards later, and continued shopping. She had to figure out what to buy
her brother Sean for a Christmas present. //Pots? He's already got a good
set of knives.// As she contemplated the vagracies of siblings just
setting up new apartments, Dawn moved through the cookwares and into the
"bargain bin" section. 

And came face to face with a bedraggled, stuffed parrot. 

Dawn felt her face get hot, and she started to shiver, as if someone was
starting to tickle her.  She whipped her hand away from where it had
drifted to touch one of the feathers and stepped back. 

She promptly knocked into something hard and tripped onto the floor. 

Dawn retained just enough politeness to not let out a stream of curses as
she felt herself falling. Latent Karate reflexes kicked in and she managed
to roll as she hit the ground. 

//D*mn!// Dawn picked herself up, and started to help the woman she had
knocked into to pick up her packages. She'd bumped into the woman's
wheelchair as it passed by the corridor behind her. "Sorry about that. I
didn't see you." Dawn handed the woman her purse. 

"November the eigth and Christmas shopping has started already." She
shrugged and put it into the pouch hooked onto the back. "No harm done, I
guess." 

Dawn smiled apologetically, and turned back around to pick up her own
backpack from the floor. 

There were feathers all over it. The old parrot had fallen from it's perch
and one of the wings had broken into several pieces, strewing feathers
everywhere. 

************flashback******************

She was tied to a wheelchair, and it was pitch black. All she could hear
was a voice demanding answers... answer she couldn't or wouldn't give. Not
to her, not under <torture>. 

It came again. The cruel, inhumane attack upon her body and senses. //I'm
near the breaking point... I don't know how much I can stand...//

In the end, they left her to recover for a few minutes. Giggling
helplessly from the tickle torture, and wheezing gasps of air. 

**************end flashback***************

Someone had grabbed her.

Dawn pressed a hand to her arm where the security officer was still
holding it. "What's going on?" 

"That's what I want to know ma'am." The Eaton's security officer was
balding and slightly overweight. He appeared concerned for her, but was
also watching out for other customers to come by. Or perhaps for
reinforcements. "You've been standing in the same place for the past five
minutes... giggling." 

Dawn gently broke away, and gathered up her bag. "I... I don't know. I've
been under a great deal of stress lately." 

"Perhaps you should go home. Is there someone I could call?" 

"No. No thank you." She looked at her watch. "I'm meeting someone in a few
minutes. They'll take me home." 

"If you're sure now." He backed slowly away, still keeping an eye on her. 

"I'll be fine. Just fine." Dawn hurried through the shopping centre trying
to find another DieHard. Something was wrong, really wrong. 

//I hope this just goes away. This isn't the time to become unstable.//
She checked the contents in her backpack as she went. Luckily, it seemed
as if no one had swiped her wallet. //The hunky-dunky-Duncan
hallucinations aren't that bad. Sort of nice actually, but that giggling
fit. Yuck!//

Keeping an eye out for feathers, wheelchairs and Duncan MacLeod
hallucinations, Dawn hurried towards the meeting point. 

###

IS IT AN EMERGENCY YET? (Part 1)
Or: Lana Makes a Call
by Lana G. Soward 

Time: Early-afternoon
Place: DH HQ

By early-afternoon, it was confirmed.  Nichole was missing.  She'd only
arrived yesterday, barely in time for the party.  Several people had seen
her there, but no one saw her leave. 

Helen and Ariel had agreed to postpone their sightseeing expedition to
call the hospitals and police stations.  Lana had commandeered another
phone to place a call to Nick.  He'd promised to put an APB out on her and
he said he would stop by tonight and pick up a picture if they could find
one. 

The other Die-hards scattered, to continue to carry out their own plans
that had been interrupted by Nichole's disappearance. 

Lana watched the flurry of activity with a worried frown.  She'd seen
Nichole in a heated discussion with Sandra Gray and Laurie Fenster, but
the next time she had glanced at them, Nichole was gone. 

There had been little, if any, reaction from Natalie and the NatPack about
Natalie's journal.  This worried Lana more than if there had been an
all-out assault.  Judging from their actions last night at the party,
anything was possible. Amy Hull kept trying to wrap herself around Nick
for a good part of the night. And Nick wasn't happy about it, especially
when he found out that Amy had been using his money to pay for a
substitute for her job. 

She'd enjoyed talking with Perri and Dawn last night, at least until Dawn
had started talking to Duncan McLeod.  She'd even liked meeting Nick,
although had a really hard time looking him in the eye, knowing what
Natalie had fantasized about doing to him.  She kept having these mental
flashes of him in one position or another.  Not exactly condusive to a
serious war discussion. 

Well, that was last night, she thought.  Today, we have a missing Die-Hard
and a DieHard organizer who may be going around the bend.  Dawn had
insisted on going shopping.  She didn't seem to think that there was
anything wrong with actions last night.  Indeed, she told them that it was
all in *their* imaginations. 

There aren't enough of us to really cover the city to look for her,
thought Lana. That in of itself would interrupt the plans that the others
were following. 

Sighing, Lana got up and put on her coat.  Leaving HQ, she got into her
car and headed downtown.  She stopped by a library and went inside to the
public telephones. 

She pulled out her address book and her calling card.  She flipped though
the pages, until she found the phone number she was looking for.  She
dialed the number, remembering to make sure that it was changed to her
calling card. Patiently, she waited until the party at the other end
answered. 

"Hello, Brenda?  This is Lana.  Lana Soward.  You're still a cousin,
right?" 

Lana pulled the handset away from her head at the explosive, "OF COURSE!". 

"Okay," she said quickly.  "I just had to make sure.  Look.  I need a
favor." 

###

IS IT AN EMERGENCY YET? (Part 2)
Or: Brenda's Decision
by Lana G. Soward 

Time: Mid-afternoon
Place: Oswego, NY

Brenda hung up the phone and stared at it.  She hadn't been able to
journey to Toronto, work and her phone bill prevented it.  Lana had asked
her for information which could potentially draw her into the war whether
she could defend herself or not. 

All she wanted was an address.  Simple.  Unless it was LaCroix's. 

Of course, his address had been changing so rapidly over the past week,
that there was no telling where he was now. 

Brenda turned to her computer and started typing.  She sent a message to
Cousin Janice.  She hoped that Janice was on-line, because Lana was
waiting on an answer.  Fortunately, she was.  Within minutes, she had the
address. 

Brenda picked up the phone and dialed the number that Lana had given her.
She wasn't surprised to find that her hands were shaking.  If her
judgement was wrong, then she could expect a visit from LaCroix.  An
unpleasant visit from LaCroix. 

The phone was picked up almost immediately. 

"Hello?  I have the address.  It's..."  Brenda read off the address.  "Is
that all you need?  Good.  Now, will you please send me my tape?  Thanks.
Yeah, I know.  War time and all.  Bye." 

"I hope I've done the right thing," she said aloud.  "Otherwise, I'm
toast." 

###

A LONGSHOT FOR LONGPATH (c)
by Lane Lombardia

Time: Afternoon
Place: Alfred, NY

The Alfred Mercs had grown complacent from their apparent victory. They
hadn't seen any evidence of any retaliatory effort. They went about their
business, never suspecting a thing.

###

TO BE USED ONLY IN CASE OF EMERGENCY
by Lana G. Soward 

Time: Late afternoon
Place: CERK

Lana drove to the address that Brenda had given her.  She felt that she
was amply protected with the information that she'd gathered.  He was back
at CERK now that the Ravenettes had re-claimed the Raven.  Personally, she
thought he did better at CERK.  There was probably less to drink there. 

She pulled in the parking lot and got out of the car.  The front doors
were locked, of course, so she went around the back.  When she came across
a steel door, marked 'DELIVERIES', she knocked on it.  When there was no
response, she pounded. 

Suddenly, the door flew open and she was dragged inside, into the
darkness. 

***

LaCroix looked up at the commotion.

"What is going on?" he demanded icily.  Another commotion on top the
humiliating defeats, er, miscalculations, of the last few days, was not
going to be a welcome interruption. 

The two cousins pushed a figure forward. 

"We caught her lurking about," explained one.

Lana adjusted her jacket, which had gotten rumpled from the cousin's rough
handling, and glared at the two cousins. 

"I don't lurk," she stated with dignity.  "I may skulk, but I don't lurk.
Anyway, I hardly think that pounded on the steel door constitutes
lurking." 

"And what can I do for you," LaCroix asked with deceptive smoothness.  He
recognized from the party last night, leaving with Dawn. 

"The Die-Hards have a problem," said Lana.  "And you're going to help us
with it.  We're missing a member.  We think that she's been kidnapped. 
Our resources are currently to thin to afford an all out search." 

LaCroix's eyes narrowed.  He never had much use for the Die-Hards, except
for Dawn. He always enjoyed messing with her.  In their last encounter, a
few days ago, he'd come out ahead. Die-Hards always seemed to pop up and
smooth things over or through a spanner into his carefully laid plans. 
Still, to have the Die-Hards in his debt... 

He smiled.  The two cousin shivered.  They knew that smile.  They knew
that usually someone got in trouble.  They hoped that it wouldn't affect
them. Cautiously, they began to move away from Lana, but stopped when
LaCroix flicked a glance at them. 

Lana's eyes narrowed.  She didn't like that smile.  It was too smug to
suit her taste. 

"And just why should I help you?  What do I get in return?" purred
LaCroix, moving closer to Lana until he stood less that a foot away. 

Lana looked up at him, refusing to be intimidated by his height.  He was
almost a foot taller, but that wasn't necessarily an advantage.  At least
not for mortal men. 

She reached into her pocket and withdrew a sheet of paper.  She unfolded
it and held it up so that he might read it. 

LaCroix started to read and then snatched the paper from her.  When he
looked up, his pale blue eyes were almost red with fury. 

"Where did you get this?" he snarled.

"I would have thought that was obvious," she stated quietly.

The two cousins craned their heads trying to see what was on the paper. 
The only thing they could make out was the 'anytime, anyplace, anywhere'. 

LaCroix slowly crumpled the paper and tossed it onto the fire.  His eyes
still burning with anger he moved toward Lana who'd sat down in a chair by
the desk.  He reached down and jerked her out of it.  He held her off the
ground, her feet dangling a foot above the floor. 

"If I'm not back in 1 hour," Lana said quickly, fighting to stem the fear
that wanted to take over her body. "*THAT* goes out to all three mailing
lists, AOL, Compuserve, Prodigy, Genie, and the USENET groups." 

"People would never believe it," snapped LaCroix, still holding her off
the ground. 

"Maybe not," said Lana.  "But the debate that it would cause would be
monumental.  Besides, people always know that there's no smoke without
fire." Her voiced dropped, so that only LaCroix could hear her.  "How many
followers would you have if it came out anyway?  How many would be able to
look you in the eye?" 

LaCroix was silent.  He couldn't afford to have that information come out.
Slowly, he lowered her back to the ground. 

"What assurances do I have that you won't publish it?"  he said, through
clenched teeth. 

Lana idly wondered if he'd ever broken his fangs, talking like that.  "Our
aim is not to cause to trouble, not for you, Nick, Natalie or any of the
others," she said.  "We didn't start this.  All we want is what is
rightfully ours.  Publishing it is a last resort.  It's up to you to make
sure it doesn't happen.  You have my word that when war is over, the
account will be erased and the information destroyed.  Any deception by
you or your followers..." 

Lana waited.  To pass the time she started to sing softly under her
breath. //Once I was loved, I knew I was loved/I flew though my days in
fanciful ways./Secure and and sure there'd always be/Endless love for
me.// * (see end)

LaCroix signed.  He was backed into a corner.  For now.

"Well," prompted Lana, feeling the adrenaline rush starting to recede. 
"Do we have a deal?" 

LaCroix stared at her for so long, she started to wonder if he'd heard her
at all.  Finally, he stuck out his hand. 

"Deal."

Lana shook his hand and then placed in it, a photograph, and business
card. On the business card, were the address and phone numbers of the DH
headquarters. "Call us, when you have her.  Or have her brought to the
address.  Either way is fine."  She moved off toward the door. 

"You have a lot of gall, threatening me in this way," LaCroix said with
deceptive smoothness.  "Be careful, that you don't regret it." 

Lana stopped at the door.  Half turning, she said, "Gall had nothing to do
with it.  Running out of options did.  Besides, if that didn't work, there
was another alternative." 

"What?" asked LaCroix before he could stop himself.

Lana stared at him and then slowly smiled. She put her hand on the door
knob and said two words. 

"Gold Mesh?"

Without waiting to see his reaction, she opened the door, she walked out
without a word. 

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

* Music from 'The Slipper and The Rose, starring Richard Chamberlain and
Gemma Jones. 

###

EMERGENCY'S OVER--IS IT TIME TO THROW UP?
by Lana G. Soward 

Time: Late afternoon/Early evening
Place: CERK/DieHard headquarters

Lana walked quickly out of CERK and climbed into her car.  She sat there
for a moment, trying to fight both the queasiness of her stomach and the
pounding of her head.  She still wasn't sure that she'd done the right
thing. 

Finally, she started the car and started the drive back to the DieHard
headquarters.  On the way back, she tried to figure out exactly why she's
gone to LaCroix for help.  Didn't she trust Nick and the Toronto Police
Department to handle it?  She did.  Up to a point.  The point where the
other factions became involved.  When other vampires became involved. 

At the party, Lana had noticed that the Cousins had the largest prescence.
Not all of them had shown up.  From the snippets of conversation that
she'd overheard, there were even more scattered about Toronto. 

Probably they all came in response to his charming personality, she
thought sarcastically.  The only thing she got from being around him was a
monster headache. 

It's probably just stress, she thought. 

Lana pushed LaCroix and his minions from her mind and thought about Dawn.
After what happened at the party last night, she was more than a little
concerned.  Dawn seemed alright this morning, but still, groping Vachon,
in public, just didn't seem a Dawn thing to do.  It was probably just the
alcohol groping. 

***

When Lana walked into headquarters, she knew that it wasn't the alcohol
anymore.  Dawn was surrounded by six DieHards all at a respectful
distance. Respectful, because of the sword that she held in her hand. 

"Where the hell did she get that?"  said Lana.  She watched as Dawn
brandished the sword around her, causing the encroaching DieHards to
spring back. 

"KEEP AWAY!" she shouted.  She waved the sword.  "Keep away, or I'll take
all your heads." 

"It's mine,"  said Wendy.  She was sitting on a chair, bent over.  "Jane,
Lyn and I hooked up with the gang at Eaton Centre.  When we met Dawn, she
accused me of being an evil Immie.  Out to get Duncan MacLeod." 

"A FIGHT.  A FIGHT TO THE DEATH." 

"Oh no," moaned Lana.  "I thought we were over that." 

"Apparently not," said Jennifer, from her position to the left of Dawn.

"She calmed down enought for us to get her into the car, but when we got
back here, she ran into my room and grabbed my sword.  I tried to take it
away before she could unsheath it, but she gave me a flying kick." 

Lana shrugged out of her coat and tossed it on the couch.  The last thing
they needed was for Dawn to go insane.  She stared at Dawn, and tried to
think of the right thing to say.  The wrong thing probably would turn her
into a charging samurai warrior.  She wished now that she'd watched
Highlander more frequently. 

"Dawn," she said.  She moved to stand directly in front of the sword
wielding figure.  "What would Duncan say if he saw you attacking unarmed
people?" 

"They are armed," Dawn insisted.  She waved the sword in Lana's direction. 

"None of us are armed," said Lana.  A thought passed through her mind,
that the way Dawn was waving the sword about, some of them might be losing
their arms soon.  She held out her hands and the others did the same. 
"You see? We have no sword.  Please, put the sword down." 

Dawn wavered.  Finally, her shoulders slumped and the sword lowered. 

Jennifer moved forward slowly.  She reached out and removed the sword from
Dawn's grasp, alert for the least move on her part.  She reached behind
her and passed the sword to Jane, who returned it to Wendy. 

"She's not good enough to beat Duncan anyway," she sneered, as she gave
Wendy a baleful glare.  "He'll take your head and your sword."

The security phone rang and caused everyone to jump.  Jane moved forward
to answer it. 

"Hello?  Yes.  I'll come down."

"Nick's here," she said after she hung up the phone.  "He's here to pick
up the picture of Nichole.  I'll go downstairs and get him." 

Several of the DieHards scuttled off to their rooms.  They may not be
Knighties, but that didn't mean that they didn't want to look their best
for Toronto's finest. 

Lana led Dawn to their room. 

"Why don't you lie down, until Duncan arrive," she said.  The adrenaline
that had been running through her body, since this morning was receding. 
She wanted to take a nap and she wanted to throw up.  And she wasn't sure
which she wanted to do first.  But she had to find that picture of Nichole
for Nick. 

Then maybe she would throw up. 

###

SO *THAT'S* WHO WAS HANGING WITH THE COUSINS...! (a)
by Jamie Melody Randall

Time: 4:45pm EST
Place: Merc Central
<Dream sequence>

Back at Merc HQ, the doppelganger of Cousin Jamie M.R. -- the one who
Cousins Corvia and Julie had spotted at CERK and the Cousin-held Raven
while the *REAL* Cousin Jamie was wandering around in her own confusion,
at the beginning of the war -- the doppelganger of Cousin Jamie stumbled
around Merc Headquarters, feeling vaguely resentful that the real version
of her was off on a glorious rescue and had left her behind. 

So she ducked into a quiet corner, slipped on her headphones and listened
to pounding rock music for awhile. 

###

BIG MERC ATTACK (Part 1)
by Bruce Gray

Time: 5pm EST
Place: Toronto
<Dream sequence>

All it took was one phone call.

The black clad man silently crept up to Merc Command and attached a small
box to the telephone lines.  Now, all calls would be routed thru a special
computer loop and then sent on - some to the right destinations ... and
some not. 

Soon, the call they were waiting for came through.

The black clad man picked up the phone.

"Mah-Johng Pizza, this is George speaking, would you like to hear about
our specials?" 

"No, we just want a large Pepperoni Pizza."

"May I have your phone number first, please?"

"Sure." They gave it to the ninja.

"Fine.  We have your address on file.  We'll have that out to you in about
30 to 45 minutes." 

He hung up the phone.

"Go," he said.

The other man took off his suit, and dressed up in a pizza delivery
uniform.  He took some time after that to disguise his face, and then went
out the door with the still steaming pizza in a special bag. 

But, then, this was a special pizza.  It had been prepared with some
Japanese herbs and spices that would make the people that ate it very
sleepy.  Any examination of the pizza would only show the herbs and
spices.  Only eating the pizza would create the effect. 

After it had had the appropriate effect, the rest of the mission would
begin. 

The Master had called.

###

SO *THAT'S* WHO WAS HANGING WITH THE COUSINS...! (b)
by Jamie Melody Randall

Time: 5:15pm EST
Place: Merc Central
<Dream sequence>

The doppelganger sniffed the air and thought she smelled pizza.  But after
her days of following the Ramones and eating nothing but pizza for several
years, the idea of seeking dinner was not at all tempting. 

###

RANSOM AT THE DOCKS
by Christina Kamnikar

Time: 5:43pm EST
Place: Pier 57
        
Chris had nearly been forced to tie Jamie to the steering wheel to get her
to stay in the car. "Do you WANT your precious Uncle, or his pet minions,
to know where you are? As your hired bodyguard, I have to tell you ta bit
much for her allergies; leaving George and Ramona alone at Merc Central at
such a time seemed like a bad idea, and Jamie refused to move without
Ralph and her own cat, Elfy. So they were all piled into Lanes' car,
something which had made him VERY unhappy, along with the transmitting
equipment. 
        
The Mercenaries Guild only hoped their planned distraction would buy Lane,
Maureen, and the others the time they'd need to free Dianne. Even
Darkangel had managed to make it in as soon as she'd heard she'd be
needed. All available Mercs were standing by, strategically placed around
Toronto to decrease the travel time to Dianne's prison (wherever it was).
Assuming Julie was where Dianne was being held. Maureen had pointed out
that she might not be; even so, if they grabbed Julie, they could force
her to take them to Dianne. Now, everything was set. 
        
Clutching the bottle of alpha-hydroxy acid with skin-peel apricot scrub,
Christina slowly walked to the edge of the pier. She'd been told to meet
Lacroix there; and she'd had way too much time to imagine what would
happen when he showed up. She was starting to feel like Jamie Lee Curtis
in HALLOWEEN, just _begging_ to get killed. "Maureen, are you there?" 
        
"Check. We're ready in the Winnebago in back of the Raven," came back
Maureen's soothing voice, Abby and Sara audible in the background. Once
their leader had gotten into the plan, she'd come through with flying
colors. Merc honor weighed more than personal feuds. 
        
"Lane?"
        
"Check. And I think we better close down communications; the Q-tip ought
to be there soon," Lane pointed out. "Millie says good luck; Virginia and
Sonja say to kick a**." 
        
"Thanks." Chris coughed in the fog, then hit the OFF button on her hidden
mike.  Just then, a speedboat approached the dock, cutting its engines to
drift just a short distance away. 
        
"Are you the Merc who's supposed to deliver the bottle?" A short,
dark-haired guy yelled up to her. 
        
"Yes! I thought someone else was---"
        
"Couldn't make it, he was... tied up." Snickers from the boat; Cousins or
not, no one could deny the appeal of the mental picture. "Throw it down to
us, and we'll bring back your package in four hours." 
        
Chris hesitated. "How do I know she's still okay?"
        
One of them thumbed the switch on a tape player, and Chris heard Dianne's
distinctive voice cursing a blue streak, then a recitation of the
headlines from the local TV station's 5 PM news break. Unable to stall any
longer, the Mercenary threw the bottle down to the waiting Cousins, one of
whom mockingly saluted her as the speedboat took off. She counted to
fifteen under her breath, then turned and ran for the car. Jamie met her
halfway, driving like a maniac. 
        
"Lane is going to KILL you," Chris panted, sliding into the shotgun seat. 
        
"Who's going to tell him?" Jamie said. "We can switch at the fist red
light.  How did it go with Uncle?" 
        
"He didn't show, the rat. All that fear, all that buildup, and he finks
out on us and sends some lackeys! Well, they've got it." The Merc grabbed
her headphones and said, "Lane, is the tracker working? Some of the
Cousinly goons just took off by way of Lake Ontario." 
       
"A-OK. I've got a pretty good lock now... I think they're coming back to
CERK. CERK Strike team dropping in on the tower!"  Lane yelled, and Chris
could just imagine the sight of all the mercenaries already in position
flying down their guy wires, opening up the hang-gliders, and cutting
loose with their parachutes. <<I hope someone had a hangglider-cam
attached to their rig!>>
        
Jamie peeled out of the parking lot, swung a left, then blazed down the
main drag towards downtown.  Maureen's voice cut in over the channel.
"We're moving... they're definitely headed away from us, towards the south
end of town. Everyone, this is it! Positions, weapons ready... Lane?" 
        
"Transmitter hijacked. CERK team ready to descend from the roof. Maureen,
I can see you and your guys coming in via Sixteenth... use the wires we
left in place, and remember to blow through the 8th floor, that's where
the control room is, it'll confuse them even more... Chris, you're on." 
        
Taking a deep breath and smiling at Jamie (who flipped an illegal U-turn
and then got on the off-ramp for the business district), Christina thumbed
the ON switch and cued up the music. 
        
"Good Evening, Toronto! CERK, in cooperation with the FCC and other local
authorities, is conducting a test of your taste in music..." 

###

TO THE RESCUE! (Part 1)
by Lane Lombardia

Time: 5:43pm EST
Place: Rooftops around CERK

The assault force lay crouched on roof tops, covered with IR-reflective
tarps, partially to provide concealment against any vampires overhead, and
partially to ward off the frigid Toronto weather. 

Tension was running high while they waited. Lane calmed himself by
addressing other parts of the mission. Reminding himself that if something
went wrong at Christina's end, that his car gave her the best chance of
survival was of some comfort. 

The car, payment for services rendered, had been delivered just in time to
be pressed into service. The car had started out as a stock Mitsubishi
3000GT VR4, a 300 horsepower, all-wheel-drive, all-wheel steering
technological tour de force. It would do 155 miles per hour, accelerate
from zero to 60 miles per hour in under 6 seconds, and coddle it's
occupants in CD sound and leather upholstery the whole time. After it had
been treated to a few minor alterations, it provided protection against
almost all small arms, and had some special abilities that Lane hoped
never to need. 

The radio check came in. "Lane?" Christina called in.

He glanced left and right, taking in all of their positions through the
AN-PVS7 night-vision goggles. He used tiny IR illuminator on his thumb to
flash a quick signal to the other clusters. The response came back
signalling an all clear. 

"Check," he responded, following up with the suggestion, "and I think we
better close down communications; the Q-tip ought to be there soon." He
caught the expression on Millie's face and Sonja and Virginia's thumb's
up, smiled, and passed the unspoken message along, "Millie says good luck;
Virginia and Sonja say to kick a**." 

"Thanks," responded Christina, and then dead silence ensued. There was no
movement, sound, light, or anything else that might have given them away.
They were just roof shingles, amongst other roof shingles. 

The silence was torn open by Christina's inquiry, "Lane, is the tracker
working? Some of the Cousinly goons just took off by way of Lake Ontario." 

A quick glance said that the tracker, which featured signal to noise ratio
sensing as well as simple triangulation, was functioning flawlessly.
"A-OK. I've got a pretty good lock now... I think they're coming back to
CERK." Lane flung the the concealing tarp off of his position which was
the signal to begin the attack, as well as the attack's beginning. 

As the Mercs rained down upon CERK, Berg flying over in specially designed
hang glider, Millie parachuting in, and Darkangel sliding down a wire that
had been set up between the buildings hours beforehand, Lane called in
over the radio, "CERK Strike team dropping in on the tower!" With that, he
snapped the little pulley over his own wire and entered the fray. 

The first job was to secure the connection from the transmitter to the
antenna, and install our own relay. As the solid fuel cutting torch burned
through the armored umbilical connecting the antenna to CERK's
transmitting equipment, and the relay's connecting probe was inserted
through the opening in the smoking metal, Maureen called in over the
radio, "We're moving... they're definitely headed away from us, towards
the south end of town. Everyone, this is it! Positions, weapons
ready...Lane?" 

"Transmitter hijacked. CERK team ready to descend from the roof. Maureen,
I can see you guys coming in via Sixteenth... use the wires we left in
place, and remember to blow through the 8th floor, that's where the
control room is, it'll confuse them even more... Chris you're on." 

###

VAQUEROS AND KNIGHTIES? (Part 2b)
by Sherri Campbell and Torrey Harris

Time: Before sunset
Place: Nick's loft

Vachon woke as sunset was approaching.  He arose quietly, and looked at
his followers.  He shook his head. \\They really are something... they
don't even know me very well, and the outrage they felt on my behalf, and
the protectiveness they have exhibited towards me...// He felt
overwhelmed.  Somehow, they would have to be protected and rewarded.
\\Well, for now, we need to go back to the church.  I had best get them
moving before we wear out our welcome...// Stooping, he shook Torrey
awake, and then Sherri, Crystal, Linda, and the others. 

Motioning them to remain quiet, he suggested they leave, now that it was
sunset.  The Vaqueros all nodded, and, quietly picking themselves up, left
the loft. 

*********

Place: Vachon's church

"Wow !" They all exclamed in unision.  "I guess they really do take the
idea of a clean city seriously around here." Crystal said, shaking her
head. "Look, not even a drop of cow poop left!" Torrey said, amazed. 
"Good way to get your place repainted." Sherri remarked drily to Vachon.
"Inexpensive redecorating..." 

After getting themselves situated back in the church, the group settled
down for some serious planning.  Pulling up their boxes into a rough
circle, the eyes of the Vaqueros focused firmly on Torrey.  Vachon sat to
the side, wearing an expression of quiet amusement and affection. 

"Ok, we need to find out who is doing this, *Now*!", Torrey spoke,
starting the brainstorming session off. "That little stunt with Nick could
have turned really ugly." A mutter from Sherri's direction was heard to
say "COULD have turned ugly..??" 

Ignoring the muttering, Cindy responded, "Yes, but we don't know who is
behind it", looking forlorn. 

"I know that...so I have come up with a little plan...", Torrey said with
an evil glint in her eye. "I say we take a hostage from each of the major
factions and hold them until they tell us what we want to know." 

"What if the people we take don't know anything?", asked Sherri, an
expression of interest and approval beginning to show on her face.  "We
need information, not bodies to feed and guard." 

"Then, we hold them until their Faction can give us a good lead", Torrey
said with a wicked smile. "I am sure we won't have to keep them for long.
I just know some of the other factions know who is behind this and haven't
told us." 

"So how do we make them talk...don't you remember what happened to Screed
when he had to watch the Knighties...they drove him nuts." Crystal said
with a worried look in her eyes. 

"That is what he is for", Torrey said, with a nod toward Vachon.  All eyes
turned toward Vachon, who just sat there looking like someone had slapped
him with a ton of bricks. 

###

AND BACK AGAIN
by Diane Echelbarger and Vicki Merriman

Time: Sunset
Place: Diane's B&B

Diane parked her little white car in the slot assigned to it and hauled
her luggage out of the back.  <Lucky I packed light,> she thought as she
hauled the blue atheletic bag, gray garment bag, and canvas tote up the
two flights of stairs for the second time.  <At least I don't have to
worry about anybody jumping me any more.>

She unpacked her luggage-- for the third time-- and changed into what she
now thought of as her "Raven" clothes-- black, ankle-length broomstick
skirt, red short-sleeved silk blouse, and some rather unique jewelery
she'd picked up while she was still in the SCA.  The dry cleaners had,
thank heaven, been able to get the stain out where someone had barged into
her with a plate full of chicken vindaloo last night. 

She probably should stay home and go to bed early-- she'd had *far* more
late nights than usual in the last week-- but she'd spent all morning and
most of the afternoon cleaning the DieHards' kitchen (with help from them)
and felt she deserved a treat. 

It wasn't until she was double-checking the contents of her purse that she
realized it was missing.  The fountain pen, that beautiful one that Dianne
la Mercenaire had given her, wasn't in her purse.  Or her coat.  Or her
luggage. 
 
Or *anywhere*.

Fifteen minutes of searching later, Diane admitted defeat.  She'd lost it,
somewhere in the course of the last five hectic days.  It *might* be at
DieHard headquarters-- but more likely, it had been lost when the Cousins
knocked her out and ransacked her purse.  She's stop by the ROM tomorrow,
and see if it had turned up in Lost And Found. 

If it didn't, she'd have to track down Dianne admit she'd lost the
Mercenary's present... *Not* something to look forward to. 

Shrugging off the unpleasant thought, she returned to the sitting room and
saw Lillian struggling with her own luggage.  "Hey, Lillian.  Moving in
with Nick?" Diane grinned. 

Lillian, *very* tired by now of getting teased about her change of
affiliation, sighed and hitched a carry-strap higher on her shoulder.  "Me
and all the other Knighties.  So what?" 

"Sorry, didn't mean to hassle you," Diane apologized, and took a couple of
bags away from the petit brunette.  "I guess you've been hearing that a
lot since last night, huh?" 

"Constantly."  Lillian sighed and rolled her eyes.  "I should have
expected it, changing affiliations in the middle of a War, I suppose..." 

Diane grinned sympathetically.  "Here, let me help you get your stuff down
to the car."  As they hiked back down the two flights of stairs, Diane
asked, "Where are Vicki and Lorelei, do you know?  I never seem to meet up
with them." 

"Lorelei left about an hour ago.  Vicki's in the bathroom, getting dolled
up for tonight at the Raven," Lillian said.  "She's been in there
*forever*, but at least she left the door unlocked.  Lorelei tied up the
shower for an hour this morning." 

Diane shook her head.  "I could *never* be a Ravenette.  No way I'd spend
that much time getting dressed every morning.  Though I *do* enjoy a long
soak now and then." 

"Vicki's a Merc," Lillian reminded her. 

"She may call herself a Merc, but she sure *acts* like a Ravenette," the
older woman replied, slinging one of the duffels into the back of
Lillian's waiting taxi.  "This all of it?" 

"Yeah, thanks for the help."

"Take care of yourself.  I'll call the loft when we need to figure out
departure schedules."

"Will do.  Bye!" 

"Bye!"

Diane watched the cab out of sight, then climbed the stairs again.  <I
can't *believe* Second Cup was out of coffee!> she thought as she set her
small espresso machine up next to Vicki's teakettle.  <Oh, well.  Good
thing I packed my usual Con supplies.> She opened the half-pound of
Steep-&-Brew Columbian Narino she's brought with her and spooned the
dust-fine powder into the basket.  <Wonder if I should have brought more
than half a pound?  Nah, they probably just had a temporary order
problem.>

Vicki emerged from the bathroom as the machine started hissing, dressed in
nothing more exciting that black leggings and a pink, oversized shirt. She
actually had pink foam curlers in her hair.  "Where's the vampire?  I can
hear him hissing." 

"My, don't you look elegant."  Diane couldn't resist teasing.

"Hi.  Yes, isn't it lovely?"  Vicki twirled in mock modelling style.
"Actually, this is just to relax in.  My makeup is on and I can be dressed
in a few minutes.  Would you like a glass of red wine?  I've been drinking
a 1982 Leoville Barton that I brought from home." 

"Thanks, but I never could get the hang of red wine," Diane declined. "I'm
making espresso; I need the caffiene fix."  She grimaced.  "*Every* place
I stopped this afternoon was out of coffee." 

"You know, for people who are rooming together, we don't see much of each
other.  I understand you've been away, involved in some sort of war
trouble," Vicki called from her room. 

"Yeah, I figured it was safe to come back," Diane agreed.  "If you're
going to the Raven, can I get a ride?  I feel like people-watching
tonight." 

"Sure.  With a little bit of luck the Raven will have calmed down from its
Cousin/Ravenette ping pong match and everyone will be able to settle down
and enjoy it as a bar for awhile." 

Vicki went into the bedroom and came out a few minutes later wearing a one
sleeve burgundy silk Jacquard dress.  The bodice cut across her chest and
down under her right shoulder.  It clung to her chest and then waved out
from the lower waist and hips.  With it she wore black stockings with
little birds along the sides, heels and her opal jewelry. On her right
hand she wore her grandmother's sapphire.  Her wavy hair was parted on the
side and came to about her shoulder. 

Diane looked at the top which opened along the side of Vicki's breast. "No
one will miss that one." 

"That's the idea.  They are supposed to notice one of my assets, my chest,
and miss the fact that the full skirt hides hips that are bigger than they
should be.  Trompe L'oeil, the French call it.  I read the Sensuous Woman
when I was about 12.  One thing I've always remembered is not to moan and
groan about what you don't have but to show off the assets you do."  Vicki
paused in her mini lecture.  "Would you like to finish that or are you
ready to go?" 

"I've got a dress that does the same thing," Diane nodded.  "Longer skirt,
because I need it.  I didn't bring it because it's crepe-- too cold for
Toronto in October."  She swallowed the last of the dark, caffeine-dense
liquid.  "Let's party!" 

###

TWO COUSINS RECEIVE THEIR ASSIGNMENT
by Lana G. Soward 
additional characterization by Cousin Candice

Time: 6pm EST
Place: CERK

LaCroix watched the DieHard leave.  She had him cornered.  For now.  With
everything that had happened lately, he didn't want any more surprises
coming out.  He thought of the problems that she must be going through
with Dawn and grinned slightly.  LaCroix had faced an extremely trying
evening and had managed to come out unscathed, though he still held a
grudge or three (NatPackers to be precise). 

Dawn had been a handful last night at the Raven.  She'd not improved
judging from the scene she had created at the mall.  A cousin had
witnessed the whole event and hurriedly phoned LaCroix with the news.  An
evil immie, he chuckled to himself. 

He looked up at the cousins who were nervously working near the door.
Everyone was uneasy around him lately, but he liked that.  It kept them on
their toes.  Kept them from getting too close. 

LaCroix surveyed the room looking for one particular woman.  Her belief in
him was the only he did not choose to question.  She put her life in his
hands, more than once, she trusted him.  He found her sitting in the sound
booth where his show used to be broadcast from.  She was running her hands
along the soft leather of his chair.  Taking in the darkness of the
abandoned space, he supposed.  It wasn't really surprising to LaCroix,
he'd found comfort in places like these for hundreds of years. 

"Candice." 

The way he whispered her name sent chills down Candice's spine, and her
breath caught in her throat.  Her eyes searched the darkness for the
figure she knew was there, just out of sight. 

"Uncle?"  Candice rose froim the chair quickly, not wanting LaCroix to
catch her in a weak moment.  "I was just leaving.  After last night I
didn't think you'd ever want to se me again." 

"More of this twisted humor, oui cherie?"  LaCroix took advantage of the
lack of sufficient lighting (for mortals anyway), and positioned himself
behind her.  Candice felt his cool touch on her shoulder and spun around
to face him, half in fear for her life, half in a daze. 

"No, I'm perfectly serious.  Those NatPackers were all over you like ants
at a picnic!  All I did was watch from the bar, I didn't even get a chance
to approach Dawn, and ..and...and...then afterwards,...with the garlic,
and the chairs, and then there's Sandra..and...don't you despise me?  Why
don't you throw me out? ..I..." 

"Tais-toi cherie.  It was only a party.  There will be other opportunities
for you to speak with those in question."  LaCroix held the sobbing woman
in his arms, not very accustomed to such situations.  He stroked her hair
and made soothing sounds until she got a hold of herself. 

"I'm sorry, I don;t usually do that..it's just all the stress and
confusion around here.  It just got to me and .." 

"It's alright.  Now listen.  I need you to go and get Cori and Janice for
me.  I've got something in mind for those two, and I'll need to see them
in my office." 

"Now?" 

"Yes, now."  LaCroix followed her out the door as the slightly disheveled
Candice hurried out the door to go retrieve the two women.  He went to his
office and waited with baited breath.  Oh, he would definitely enjoy this. 

LaCroix watched as Cousins Cori and Janice walked into the room and toward
his desk.  Cori's loyalty had been in question of late, so he'd assigned
Janice the task of keeping an eye on her.  He stared at them, until they
began to fidget. 

"I have and *assignment* for you," he said after a moment or two. 

Cori's eyes lit up.  Ever since Janice had picked her up at the airport
and told her that LaCroix, doubted her loyalty, she'd been uneasy.  Now
was the chance to prove that she was a devoted Cousin.  She really didn't
mean the crack she'd made on the telephone about his being a figment of
her imagination.  She hoped he'd forget it.  She also knew that he
wouldn't. 

Janice eyed LaCroix warily.  She knew that LaCroix's assingments were
rarely easy and usually unpleasant.  Plus, she was stuck on babysitting
duty.  Well, more like a loyalty alert. 

"You will *find* this person,"  said LaCroix.  He pushed a picture across
the desk to them. 

"Where are we supposed to start looking?" asked Janice.

"That does not concern me," said LaCroix.  "What concerns me is that you
*will* find her.  And bring her to me." 

"But she's a Die-Hard," exclaimed Janice, after she took a closer look at
the picture.  "Why are we looking for a Die-Hard?" 

LaCroix shot Janice a glance that made her wish she hadn't spoken. 

Cori took that as their cue to exit and pulled Janice out of the room
before they became a mid-day snack. 

****

"This shouldn't be too hard," said Cousin Cori, happily.  She was relieved
that she was getting off so easily.  She didn't want to have to plan an
attack like the one Cousin Celeste had launched against the Knighties on
Sunday. 

Janice looked at her.  "Do you know how big Toronto is?" was all she
asked. 

Cori thought for a moment and the happiness began to drain from her face. 
"It's impossible," she said dispiritedly. 

"It's not impossible," said Janice, as she mentally crossed her fingers.
"It's just not going to be easy." 

###

SO *THAT'S* WHO WAS HANGING WITH THE COUSINS...! (c)
by Jamie Melody Randall

Time: 6:05pm EST
Place: Merc Central
<Dream sequence>

Jamie's double looked up, thinking she saw a shadow.  No, nothing there.
But she could just barely catch a gleam of silver... 

Jamie had followed rock bands in the eighties.  She knew what little
silver packets usually contained.  So naturally, she opened it... 

###

BIG MERC ATTACK (Part 2)
by Bruce Gray

Time: 6:15pm EST
Place: Merc Headquarters
<Dream sequence>

All power to Merc Central was cut.

The door to Merc Central was silently opened and in rushed six men clad
all in black, gloved, and wearing black face masks that covered the lower
halves of their faces but left dark eyes gleaming. The two people they
found left holding the fort were unconscious. They knew from experience
that they would not awaken anytime soon, but they knew they had to work
quickly in case others returned. 

The ninjas proceeded on a whirlwind of destruction throughout the place. 
They ripped out phone cords and smashed computer monitors and keyboards. 

One slipped away to make a quick tour through the bedrooms, completing the
rest of the assignment.  The small packets were put in unobstrusive
places.  Then he went outside and removed the box from the phone line. 

Fifteen minutes later, Merc Central was empty again. 

But in shambles.

The ninjas then slipped unseen back into the night.

And there was no evidence to show who did it left behind.

###

SO *THAT'S* WHO WAS HANGING WITH THE COUSINS...! (d)
by Jamie Melody Randall

Time: 6:15pm EST
Place: Merc Central
<Dream sequence>

Cousin Jamie's doppelganger danced to the music coming from her
headphones, feeling very, very, VERY happy. 

All the little silver packets had been emptied... and Jamie's doppelganger
was sufficiently stoned to no longer care that she'd been left behind. 

Conscientiously, from long practice at such things, she shredded the foil
and flushed it before her last vestiges of rationality fled... 

She was more stoned than she'd been in many years, the Natpack's mistaken
drugging of her notwithstanding; and as such, she was happy. 

###

NICK'S MOST ARDENT DIE-HARD
by Lana G. Soward 

Time: 7pm EST
Place: DH Headquarters.

Jane led Nick into the DieHard Headquarters and then went to find Lana,
She glanced wistfully behind her, at Nick standing by the door.  She felt
like just shouting out to Lana that Nick was here but that would probably
bring ALL the DieHards. 

He stood looking around at the place, which seemed strangely deserted for
a headquarters operation.  From behind a closed door, he could hear
shrieks of laughter.  Nick listened a bit harder, and the wished that he
hadn't heard at all. 

   <<Drop 'em Lu>>

The shrieks of laughter, drowned out the rest of the tape, and almost
drove Nick out of the headquarters.  Was he never going to get away from
that tape? he thought.  Was he doomed to always having it played forever? 
To have to hear about how easily his followers were swayed? 

Probably, he thought glumly.  That is something that LaCroix would do. 
He'd bring it up at the most inconvenient moments, too.  It's a good thing
that he and the Knighties were back on an even keel again. 

Nick was distracted from his thoughts by a figure emerging from a back
room. 

***

Dawn wandered aimlessly out of her room, the minute Lana had left.  She
heard the laughter coming from the video room and went to investigate. 

Something to do until Duncan arrives to take me away from all this, she
thought.  And deal with the evil immie. 

When she tried the door she discovered that is was locked.  A first.  She
knocked softly, and then harder when there was no response. 

The lock on the door clicked and Helen looked out.  When she saw that it
was Dawn, a frightened look came across her face and she half shut the
door.  She remembered that sword that Dawn had been waving around less
than ten minutes ago.  She blocked the door to prevent Dawn from entering. 
Wendy had fled to the video room and Helen didn't want another 'evil
immie' encounter today. 

"What are you doing?" protested Dawn.  "I want to come in."

"I don't think you should," said Helen, as she glanced nervously over her
shoulder.  "Why don't you go and lie down?  It's only an audio tape
anyway." She shut and relocked the door. 

Dawn could hear the voices on the other side.

"I wonder how much they want for the video," said an indistinct voice.

"I dunno.  It's great without it, though, lets your imagination take
over." 

"Play it again.  I need another laugh."

Dawn turned from the door in disgust.  She was the co-leader of the
DieHards and she was locked out of one of the most important rooms of HQ. 

It's not fair, she thought, as she looked up.

And saw NICK.

She saw that boyish face, so sad, so despondent.  He had his flashback
face on again.  Probably reliving some moment in hell, with that sadist
LaCroix. Poor Nickie. 

***

Nick was indeed lost in a flashback.  And it did involve LaCroix.  He was
reliving the moment that he placed that video cassette in the VCR and
hitting play.  He could see it over and over again.  A greatest hits
version of Sandra's tete-a-tete with LaCroix in the wine cellar.  Someone
had a truly cruel sense of humor sending it to him. 

Suddenly, Nick was knocked back to the present, by a weight suddenly
attaching itself to him. 

"Oh Nick," cooed Dawn, burrowing herself against his chest and wrapping
her arms and legs around him.  "Don't worry.  I'll never betray you." 

"What?" said Nick stupified.  This was coming to him totally out of left
field. 

Dawn looked up at him.  Her eyes glittered feverishly.  There was a gleam
of adoration shining from her that he'd never seen in the most avid
knightie. 

"You're my one and only," whispered Dawn softly, as she tried to bury her
head in his neck.  Suddenly, she stopped, as a thought raced into her
brain. She reached over and began to unbutton his shirt. 

"What are you doing?" Nick fought to keep the rising panic from his voice.
Not even the Knighties had tried to undress him.  While he was awake, at
least. 

Dawn ignored him.  She was muttering to herself. 'I have to know.  I have
to know.  She's his doctor.  She should know.'

Nick tried to pull Dawn off of him, but she'd attached herself to him,
like a barnacle on a boat.  He couldn't even stop her from unbuttoning his
shirt. Every time he thought he gotten a hold of her hand, she moved it
and he was grasping empty air. 

Dawn finished Nick's shirt and started to work on the belt on his
trousers. She'd read Natalie's journal twice.  Now she was going to find
out if everything was true. 

"Close your eyes, Nick."

Nick heard the whisper and immediately closed his eyes.  Partly in
response to the command, but mostly in despair at the way his life was
going.  From behind his closed eyelids he could see a brilliant glare of
light as it flashed. 

Dawn screamed and fell away from Nick.

"I'm blind," she screamed.  "I'm blind."

Nick opened his eyes and stared down at the figure in front of him.  He
then looked at the two figures standing in the doorway. 

"What happened?" asked Nick shakily, as he leaned against the wall.  Dawn
was still curled up on the floor, moaning about being blind. 

"Atomic flash," explained Lana, holding up her camera.  "Guaranteed to
blind anyone, temporarily.  Even if they're not looking directly at it." 

Jane removed her sunglasses and moved forward.  Gently, she helped Dawn up
and guided her out of the room.  Lana watched them as they left. 

"We think someone spiked her drinks, last night," she said, rubbing her
temple.  "I'd hoped that it would have worn off by now." 

She handed him a picture.  "This was taken Tuesday, when Nichole arrived." 

"What?"  For a moment, Nick was confused and then he remembered the reason
for his visit that evening.  "Okay, that's great." 

Suddenly, there was a cry from the back.

"Where's Nick?  Where's my Nickie?  Nick, Duncan.  Save me from the evil
immie, don't leave meeee." 

"I think you'd better go" said Lana quickly.  "You'll get that out,
right?" 

"Yeah.  I'll have copies made as soon as possible."  Nick winced at the
word copies.  He remembered what the knighties had done the rest of
Sunday.  They had made COPIES of that awful tape. 

He turned to go, but was stopped by Lana.

"Nick," she said.  "Don't you think you might want to button your shirt,
first?" 

He looked down and saw that his shirt was still unbuttoned.  He fled,
buttoning up his shirt as he went.  Next war, he thought, he was putting
in for vacation, closing the loft and heading to London.  Even an ocean
away, would be too close from the madness that had descended on Toronto. 

Lana grinned as she watched him leave.  She'd hoped the look of raw terror
on his face photographed well.  800 years old and he still can't handle a
woman. 

She turned and walked back to where Jane was trying to keep Dawn in bed. 

Dawn had better be alright soon, Lana thought.  They'd better make sure
that she stayed at headquarterd until the aftereffects of whatever it was,
wore off. 

###

MERCS HIJACK CERK
by Christina Kamnikar

Time: 7:15pm EST
Place: Toronto
        
"Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, we're going to play some requests." 
        
Chris fumbled with the tape case as Jamie rounded a corner and came to a
squealing stop just outside of the CERK (Home of the Nightcrawler (TM))
studios. They waved happily at the people in the lobby, some of whom were
Cousins; Chaos thought she saw the familiar faces of Celeste and Deb in
there, but she couldn't be sure.  She kept talking, and turned on the
voice distortion box. No way did she want the CRTC to have her voiceprint! 
        
"At this moment, we have a special request from one Rick... I'm sorry,
that's Nick, Nicholas---going out to a very special lady --- Natalie, as
an apology for some recent events." 
        
The horrified looks on some of the Cousins'faces told her that they'd
realized what was happening, and who was responsible. She saluted the
Cousins as Jamie pulled out into the middle of the intersection, and hung
a hard right towards mid-town. Chris hit the PLAY button, and the mellow
Carribean sounds of the Neville Brothers filled the small car. 

        Like a bird       on a wire,
        Like a drunk      in a midnight choir,
        I have tried      in my way
        To be free....
        
"Are they following?" Jamie asked, scanning the traffic in front of her
for a good opening. Christina closed her eyes, suddenly reminded that
Jamie was from New York, didn't usually drive, and that Lane would hold
HER, not Jamie, responsible for what happened to his brand-new shiny toy
whose brand-name she couldn't even remember. Jamie was the daughter of a
New York cab driver, and what she didn't know about urban driving wasn't
worth knowing. 

        Like a fish      on a hook
        Like a knight    from some old-fashioned book,
        I have saved     all my ribbons
        For thee....
        
"Yes. Watch the road. Watch the road!!! JAM-IEE!!" Squinching down in the
seat, Chaos checked that the cats were still okay. They were fine, of
course; watching Chris with disdain, like she was the demented one. 
        
"I *am* watching the road," Jamie said huffily.

        If I---  've         been unkind
        I hope that you,
            can just let it, let it go by---
        If I---  have been untrue
        I hope you know,   it was never  --- to  you
        
Several cars were jockeying for position back there, trying to get close
to theirs, but for now, they were enough ahead that they didn't have to
worry. The trick would come in a few blocks, staying ahead of them far
enough that they wouldn't lose them, but that they wouldn't get close
enough to snatch the antenna. Or take out their tires, or take THEM out.
All the time they could buy, Lane had said. Maureen had backed him up,
saying that there were far more Cousins than Mercs, a distraction was
necessary, and to just have some fun. This wasn't exactly Chris's idea of
fun. 
         
More like her idea of a LOT of fun.

        Like a bird   ---- FREE
            on a wire          FREE!
        Like a bird   ---- FREeeee...
        
"That was "Bird on a Wire" from Nick to Natalie. I don't know what he did,
girlfriend, but I'D forgive him." The Merc chortled; there was a lot of
good nasty fun in messing with people's heads. If Natalie was listening,
what would her reaction be?  Or Nick's? Better yet, what would the
faction's reactions be, if they thought their leaders were being misled?
Unlikely, but you never knew... 
        
The next track was the MISSION IMPOSSIBLE theme that Berg had wanted to
hear while they scaled down the building; Chris talked up the record,
saying, "I have friends who treat life as if every moment were just
another day from the PRINCESS BRIDE. Swordfights! Honor! Duels to the
death! Impossible escapes!! This one is going out to a guy with great
taste in hanggliders---" The characteristic 'dunh, dunh dunh, dunh'
started up as Jamie swerved to avoid a mounted policeman, spilling Chris
into the window, pressing her face against the glass with the g-force.
"Gack!" 
        
"Sorry. They're gaining on us---I think there's four or five back there
now. I'm pretty sure I saw Geno and Melissa in the 4X4.  We're going to
have to detour," Jamie decided, as she spun the wheels, and headed through
Morningside Park. 
        
"What do you mean, detour?" Chris asked shakily.
        
Again, they missed a mounted policeman by thismuch; a few kissing couples
on park benches; and some skateboarders in the center square.  By this
time several police cars had joined the chase. None of which were equipped
to keep up with Jamie's insane driving. Chaos supposed the Cousin felt
partially responsible for tonight's events; after all, she HAD hired Lane
to tint Julie's face in the first place. Glancing at Jamie's face now,
however, Chris thought it much more likely that she was just enjoying
breaking in Lane's car. So far, they hadn't hit anything. Chris cued up
another song. "Nick has another request now: 'Losing My Religion' is going
out to his buddy Lucien." Actually, it had been Virginia's idea, along
with the song that followed, by Queen. Chris and Jamie sang along as they
headed down MacDonald Cartier Parkway. 

        Who wants to live     FOREVER?
        Who wants to live     FOREVER?....
        Who dares to live     FOREVER!!!!
 Yeaaaaahhhh....
        
Jamie started to head south on Don Valley Parkway, which inspired Chris to
play something for the dearly departed. "This is going out to Pam,
Christine, and all the other people at the Happy Souvlaki---in memory of
one who's gone, and who's dearly missed, and who believed in REAL music.
Donald Schanke." A fast run down the keys of the piano. Another run. Then
Bob Seger yelled out the lyrics as the driver of the CERK-mobile AGAIN had
to break fast, and then cut across traffic to avoid those pesky Cousins. 

        Don't try to get me to a disco!
        You'll never even get me out on the floor!
        In ten minutes I'll head straight for the door!
        Start playing Old-Time Rock'n'Roll!
        
Maybe that would make them forgive her for the mess she'd made of the
Deli. Chris sighed, and put her feet up on the dash, twiddling with the
motherboard on her lap, noticing that she'd sacrificed a couple more nails
to this adnventure. Probably the FoD's were still mad, though. She'd made
some vague promise to Pam on her way to the ransom dro, about coming by to
clean-up... Christine H. had added something about feeding them real food
if they did. Hopefully, the rest of the Mercs would be hungry enough to be
willing to assist her. 
        
"What's the Frequency, Kenneth?" --- dedicated to "everyone who's having a
good time tonight" --- had been playing when Jamie turned down the
Gardiner Expressway (Virginia had requested it, instead of Chris's
suggestion of 'Pilot of the Airwaves'). Now Maureen cut in on the
headsets. 
        
"Chris? It's the Poohbah. We're half-way down... no sign of Dianne yet. We
only ran into one bunch so far---how're you two holding up?" 
        
"Pretty well. About thirty moving violations, no fatalities, and oh,"
Chris checked the rearview, "six or seven of Toronto's finest after our
butts. We're on the Gardiner Expressway, headed toward---" Jamie suddenly
screeeeched right, the Merc gasped, recovered, holding onto her seat with
white knuckles, "uh, Jane Street, and back to Cartier?" She blinked at
Jamie, who nodded, tongue between her teeth, manic gleam in her eyes. "How
much more time do you need?" 
        
"Give us another twenty minutes... ooops. Gotta go!" The communication was
cut off, and Chris wondered who they'd encountered back at the studios.
Hopefully NOT Lacroix himself. She cued up Millie's request of "Just Get
Through This Night," by Styx, and hung on for dear life. 
        
The lights of the city were gorgeous; checking the dashboard clock, Chris
could see that only thirty-five minutes had passed since they left the
CERK building.  "Amazing," she sighed, then realized the music was about
to run out. "Um... this is one from Lucien to... Natalie. Gosh, I hope
it's not the same Natalie as before." She snickered, then giggled at
Jamie's expression of disbelief. "The ultimate mindgame," she crowed, then
Sting's "Why Should I Cry For You?" filled the car. The cats played
happily in the back seat. 

        Dark angels follow me   over a godless sea
        Mountains of endless falling, for all my days remaining

        What would be true?

        Sometimes I see your face    stars seem to lose their place
        Why must I think of you?
        Why must I?
        Why should I?
        Why should I cry for you?
        Why would you want me to?
        And what would it mean to say,
        That "I loved you in my fashion"?
        
"You are EVIL," Jamie said as she turned on to Cartier, passing by several
Porsches and a Lamborghini with ease. "I like that!" 
        
"I know. But it's time I had some fun, damnit. I've been up 48 hours
straight, my friends have been kidnapped, I'm responsible for the
destruction of a very nice deli, I've had WAY too much caffeine, and if
I'm lucky, the evening will end in ONLY my arrest. I'm gonna play what I
want to play---" and the berserk DJ cued up Seal's "Crazy", and then, pure
insanity taking over, stuck her head out the window, screaming, "MERCS
RULE!!" at the top of her lungs. Something whizzed by her head, and she
hastily ducked back inside. "They're shooting at us!" 
        
"The Cousins???"
        
"No, the cops.. I think..."
        
"Well, time for the home stretch." And Jamie gunned the accelerator,
saying, "I *love* this song!" and leaving the Cousins far, far behind, and
the cops without a prayer of catching them. 

        No we're never gonna survive
        Unless
        We get a little crazy...
        
By judicious weaving, slowing down, and the changing of license plates
while still moving (don't ask. And don't try this at home!) they managed
to get back to CERK at a relatively sedate pace, braking at the front
entrance. Jamie bit her lip, looking worried. "I don't see them. They
should be here by---" 
        
Lane cut in over the headsets. "We're almost at the door, and you better
be too, guys!" 
        
Just then, an explosion of Ninja-imposters came through the lobby,
vaulting over furniture, one of them dragging Dianne by the hand.  "That's
them!" Christina shrieked, opening the door and sliding back the seat. 
        
Maureen, Abby, Sarah, and Sara were kicking and screaming and shooting off
their Super-soakers as they cleared a path for Lane and Dianne; Darkangel,
Berg, Virginia and Sonja were bringing up in the rear, knocking over
furniture, and not doing TOO much obvious damage---except when Virginia
raised her sword and macheted one of the lobby plants with it, uttering a
high-pitched triumphant laugh as she did so. "There can be only ONE!" she
yelled. (Someone else who hadn't had enough sleep, Chris thought). 
        
Dianne dove for the backseat, squeaking, "Kitties! You brought me
kitties!" as Chris joined her. Lane slid in beside Jamie, did a
double-take, glared at Christina (who shrugged helplessly), and then he
said "GO!" 
        
"Where to, mister?" Jamie smiled nonchalantly, switching gears like a pro. 
        
"The Happy Souvlaki," Chris piped up from the backseat, and sneezed.
"Food, refreshments... and some repairs." 
        
"What'd I miss?" Dianne asked, relaxing with relief.
        
"Oh... the usual," chorused the other three.

*****

EPILOGUE
        
Julie stared in disbelief at the little note tucked thoughtfully inside
the lid of the canister. 

Dear Julie,

Well, you wanted an antidote.
                Personally, I'd just wait the week and a half until it
wears off---this is going to hurt if you use it! Ever hear of facial
scrubs? Facial peels? How about chemical peels?
                That's the only thing that'll get that off your face---
             Sincerely yours,

The Mercenaries Guild

P.S. Next time, just ask for our special Retaliation Rates!

Julie screamed in frustration, and threw the bottle at the mirror--- then
screamed when she realized what she'd done, then yelled some more when she
realized she didn't know whether to use it or not... 

###

TO THE RESCUE! (Part 2)
by Lane Lombardia

Time: 7:15pm EST
Place: CERK

The signal strength meter showed that CERK had been successfully hijacked,
and Lane gave a little nod, telling the strike force to head for their
entry positions. Sonja, Millie, Virginia, and Darkangel paired up on
either side of the roof door and donned their gas masks (German made,
Israeli-issue that Lane had supplied) as Lane and Berg ran for opposite
sides of the roof. 

The four women had the dangerous task of entering in the confines of a
stairway that could well be occupied, whereas, Berg and Lane had the task
of rapelling down opposite sides of the building and then bounding through
windows. 

Berg, despite his heavy combat load, reached his roof edge first, donning
his own American made gas mask. Lane reach his own roof edge immediately
after and put on his own German made, Israeli-issue mask. They both
disappeared into the darkness as Darkangel prepared to kick in the door. 

Darkangel was the tallest of their lot, and had an edge in intimidation if
any Cousin was unfortunate enough to be in her way. The heel stomp kick
shattered the door and it collapsed into broken shards under her attack.
If the Cousins had hurt Dianne, then the paybacks would be he**. 

Berg and Lane hit their respective windows simultaneously with the roof
door crumbling under Darkangel's kick. Garlic-perfume/smoke grenades,
developed and constructed by Berg, were dumped into the stairways and
rooms that each fire-team was dealing with. In seconds the smell of garlic
was so overpowering that only a FoD could have withstood the onslaught. 

Sweeping through the first room, Berg was surprised to find that the
diversion was working even better than they had planned. His load of
garlic-perfume/smoke grenades was taped down, and he made no sounds other
his own breathing. 

Darkangel took point as her team rushed down the stairs to the level where
Berg and Lane had just come crashing in. At the base of the stairs, she
stopped, taking up a fire-support position with a Super-Soaker 300, with a
full charge of holy water, while Millie, Sonja, and Virginia rushed past
her and fanned out. 

Millie and Sonja carried improved versions of Super Soaker 150's, with a
full charge of holy water. Virginia drew her sword, a gracefully arched
example of the sword-smith's art. The katana had been cryo-tempered,
allowing it to withstand up to 18 inches of deflection and still return to
true. 

Lane had hit the window with a high bound which propelled him through it
and into the middle of the room. Releasing the rope, he dumped a pair of
Berg's grenades out to either side of him, and hit the floor running. The
purple-heart hexagonal hanbo with brass end caps came immediately to hand,
and he swept through the room, making certain that there were no Cousins
hiding in there with him. 

The CERK Strike Team(tm) formed up at the staircase after securing the top
floor. The team had guessed that Dianne was most likely on either the top
floor, or in the basement; however, that was just a guess. 

The question was whether to sweep through each floor, securing each one as
they went, or to make a bee-line for the basement, if the top floor wasn't
it. In the end, they had decided that the amount of time that Christina
could buy them with her diversion necessitated the risk of the blitzkrieg
down the stairs. It wasn't a perfect plan; but, none of them was willing
to risk having to go toe to toe (fang?) with LaCroix, as a result of
overstaying their welcome. 

The CERK Strike Team ran, screaming and popping Berg' grenades all the way
down to the basement. If there had been any cousins in their way, they had
fled during the mercenaries' insane charge. 

The basement door, a steel-reinforced oak affair brought the mercenaries'
charge to a screaming halt (literally). Berg, however, putting MacGyver to
complete and utter shame was prepared for this is possibility, and began
to break out his kit of C-1 explosive while the rest of the team set up a
hasty ambush in case any intrepid Cousins came to investigate. 

"Fire in the hole!" yelled Berg as he took cover against his own
handiwork. The explosive neatly fractured the door along its primary
stressline, leaving it folded up and ajar. 

The CERK Strike Team charged down the stairs, to find Dianne chained up
and very interested in vacating the premises. Lane produced a thermos from
which he poured a smoking stream of liquid nitrogen on the chain. As the
metal cooled it became increasingly hard and brittle. A sharp blow of the
hanbo shattered the frozen metal, allowing Dianne to thread the still
affixed manacles from the chain that had trapped her. 

Dianne was quickly briefed and equipped with a gas mask. If everything
went as planned, Maureen's team would just about be in position to cover
their escape, after contributing to the general mayhem and confusion. 

The CERK Strike Team burst back onto the ground floor, just as Maureen's
Raven Strike Team took up fire support positions. Maureen, Abby, Sara, and
Sarah were kicking lobby furniture out of the way and laying down a
pattern of fire with holy-water equipped Super-Soakers. Lane called over
the radio, "We're at the door, and you better be too, guys!" 

Lane pulled Dianne towards the charcoal grey Mitsubishi 3000GT VR4. Chris
was waiting, holding the door open. As Dianne slipped into the car, she
squealed, "Kitties, You brought me kitties!" Christina slipped in behind
her and Lane dove into the front-passenger seat, expecting to slide across
to the driver's seat when he realized that Jamie was already there, doing
a double take on the spot. Glaring at Chris, he said,"Go!" to Jamie. 

Revving the engine to 3000rpm and sidestepping the clutch, Jamie
accelerated away from the scene. "Where to, mister?" Jamie asked
nonchalantly, going through the gears of the six-speed transaxle like an
expert. 

"The Happy Souvlaki," Chris answered.

###

YOU GOT TO KICK A LITTLE...
by Maureen "The Mad" Wynn

Time: 7:15pm EST
Place: CERK

"Friggin' Winnebago suspension...!"

"Slow down!"

"Hang on!"

"To *what*? Ouch! Can't you at least slow down for the *corners*?
Owwwwwww!" 

Maureen switched on her headset and called in over the radio, "We're
moving... they're definitely headed away from us, towards the south end of
town. Everyone, this is it! Positions, weapons ready...Lane?" 

"Transmitter hijacked. CERK team ready to descend from the roof. Maureen,
I can see you guys coming in via Sixteenth... use the wires we left in
place, and remember to blow through the 8th floor, that's where the
control room is, it'll confuse them even more... Chris, you're on." 

Maureen turned the corner off Sixteenth, and pulled the Winnie into the
loading dock. <These boats are just impossible to park! How *does* Nick
manage with that Caddie?> she thought distractedly while pulling together
her gear. "Are we ready to go?" she asked the other Mercs. 

"Ready, willing, and able!

"Check! Let's rock and roll!"

"Time to kick some butt!"

They piled out of the truck in time to see Cousins of all shapes and sizes
pouring out of the front doors of the CERK building. They all dove into
cars, and started to pull out into traffic.  Maureen grinned when a 4X4
narrowly missed smashing into another car.  "Chris will lead them a merry
chase - with any luck they'll all crash into each other and tie up traffic
for miles!" 

They ran into the building across the alley from the CERK building, and
took the service elevator to the top floor. They got across to the CERK
building on the guy wires Lane had conveniently left in place, and started
down to the control room, armed and dangerous. 

"Man, didn't *anyone* stay behind to guard the place?" Sara sounded
disappointed that there didn't seem to be anyone for her to use her
weaponry on. 

"Just because you don't *see* anyone doesn't mean that they're not there.
Stay alert!" Maureen said, moving down the hallway, counting doors. <Third
door on the right... here it is!> "OK, Sara, you open the door, and Abby
and I will go in.  Sarah, you watch the corridor - we don't want anyone
coming up behind us. All right - ready, set, GO!" 

"Hey, who are...  what do you think you're doing... hey! Stop that!" 

The cousins who had been manning the Control Room started toward the
Mercs, only to be beaten back by the streams of high-powered water from
the Super Soakers.  As they were trying to protect their faces from the
jets of water, Sara and Sarah moved into the room and snagged their wrists
with the handcuffs, attaching them all to a (very conveniently placed!)
railing along one wall. 

Maureen examined the main controls carefully.  There were certainly enough
lights and switches and knobs and dials, oh, my! <How to disable this,
without cutting off the trasmission from our pirate signal... what to do,
what to do...?>

Then it came to her, and she smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.  Abby edged
away from her Poobah, not wanting to be too close to *anyone* with a smile
like that.  "Uh, Maureen , Your Madness, what are you gonna do?" 

Maureen backed away from the controls, bringing her Super Soaker to bear
on them, and then let loose, playing the stream of water across the
panels.  The delicate electronic equipment did not appreciate the gallons
of holy water pouring into them, and protested with screams of electric
woe (echoed by the watching Cousins) then started spitting sparks
everywhere. 

Maureen stopped when her weapon was empty, and looked with satisfaction at
the havoc she had wreaked. One of the sparks landed in a half-full
wastebasket, and a small fire started.  Maureen moved toward it to put it
out, then, when she realized that she was out of water, started to ask
Abby to put it out when the overhead sprinklers came on. 

The Mercs ran from the room, and then stopped outside in the hall,
watching in awe as the sprinklers soaked the entire room, Cousins and all.
"Well, I think it's disabled, don't you?" Maureen said, grinning with
glee. "Come on, I need to re-load."  And they moved off down the hallway,
with the outraged screams of the Cousins trailing behind them. 

****

"Chris? It's the Poohbah. We're half-way down... no sign of Dianne yet. We
only ran into one bunch so far---how're you two holding up?" 

"Pretty well. About thirty moving violations, no fatalities, and oh, six
or seven of Toronto's finest after our butts. We're on the Gardiner
Expressway, headed toward---uh, Jane Street, and back to Cartier?" There
was a moment of static on the radio, then Chris asked, "How much more time
do you need?" 

"Give us another twenty minutes... ooops. Gotta go!"  The gaggle of
cousins they had spotted further down the stairwell saw the black-clad
Mercs running toward them and ducked through a door leading into some
offices. The Mercs followed, screaming and whooping like lunatics, and
driving the Cousins before them like a herd of cattle.  The chase ran
through the offices on several floors, with the Mercs blasting away with
their Soakers, and Sara jabbing her dagger toward any Cousin stupid enough
to get close to her, but being careful not to actually puncture anyone. 

Eventually they were moving down the stairwell toward the lobby when the
descending Mercs saw the ascending Rescue Team with Dianne in tow. They
came together, squeezing the remaining Cousins out the door into the
lobby. 

Lane said on his headset, "We're almost at the door, and you better be
too, guys!" Then Lane's Strike Team were through the doors, as Maureen's
Strike Team took up fire support positions and ran through the lobby,
vaulting over furniture, kicking and screaming and shooting off their
Super Soakers as they cleared a path for Lane and Dianne. 

Despite the general mayhem, Ma Maureen was startled when Virginia raised
her sword and macheted one of the lobby plants with it, laughing
maniacally and yelling, "There can be only ONE!" <Someone is getting into
this a leetle *too* much, maybe!>

Then Lane and Dianne were out the door, and climbing into the Mitsubishi
that was waiting there for them.  When Maureen saw that the rescuee was
safely away, she signaled to the rest of the Rescue Team that it was time
to go. They all stayed in formation until they were through the door, then
everyone was running hell-bent for the Winnebago. 

It was a tight squeeze, but everyone was in, and the Winnie was screeching
down the street before any Cousins had gotten more than a step through the
door.  "We are the champions, and we'll keep on fighting to the end, we
are the champions, we are the champions... of the world!"  the Mercs sang
in ragged harmony as they headed toward the Happy Souvlaki and a richly
deserved party. 

###

IN THE KNIGHT KITCHEN
by Karen Tobin

Time: Early evening
Place: Nick's loft

When Nick found Karen, she was in his kitchen, making cookies. Or, more
accurately, she was in his kitchen, tasting the cookie dough she was
mixing. 

"Ugh! Raw cookie dough? How can you eat that?!?" Nick demanded, wrinkling
his nose in distaste. 

"I beg your pardon?" Karen responded, amused. "You're suggesting that raw
cow's blood is more palatable?" 

"Well...." 

"I'll try yours if you'll try mine..." 

"Perhaps some other time." 

"Chicken!"

"Only if it's alive."

Karen decided to change the subject. "I assume you wandered in here for
some other reason than to discuss my gustatory habits?" 

"Yes. I'd like to know if I could borrow you're car. I'm going to meet
Sandra to see if we can iron things out, and I'd rather not be
conspicuous, which is not easy to do in the caddie," Nick began, wondering
why he was telling her more than she needed to know, this woman he hadn't
even met two weeks ago who always seemed to draw more out of him than he
intended to say. But he knew the answer to that even a the question passed
through his mind. When he had hypnotizes her, he hadn't been able to
resist asking a few questions unrelated to Sandra's kidnapping. He was
always curious as to what made his Knighties tick. He had learned the
depth of her commitment to him, knew that she would have stepped between
and him and an oncoming (silver) bullet. This knowledge which made him
want to shake some sense into her, but also told him that he could trust
her, as he trusted the closest and best known to him among them. Trust her
as he had trusted Sandra, which brought him back to the question at hand. 

"So, do you think I could borrow your car?"

"I don't know," she replied, looking up at him momentarily, a sidelong
green glance. "Can you drive a standard?" 

"I _think_ I can manage." His voice was cold, but when she glanced up at
him again, she saw that the corners of his lips were twitching. 

"Okay."

Nick followed her to the corner where she had left her pocketbook. She
fished about for her keys, which she found and place in his hand, wrapping
the cold fingers around them. "There. You have a full tank of gas and a
heater that works." Her voice was light, but her eyes never left his.
"Now, drive carefully, don't ride the clutch, be home before light and
don't forget your seatbelt." 

"Thanks, Mom." Nick replied.

She leaned closer to him and her voice dropped. "I'm _not_ your Mom."

"I certainly hope not."

She was unprepared for the kiss, although she should have seen it coming.
She was unprepared for its power, although she should have foreseen that,
too. after all, he'd had 800 years of practice. It was the kind of kiss
that makes a woman's knees go weak, and it was just at that moment, when
she though that her knees would actually fail her, that she felt him
release her. When she opened her eyes, he was gone. 

Karen heard one of the Knighties come into the kitchen, but didn't look up
to see who it was. 

"Look, Karen. I probably shouldn't say anything, but flirting like that
with a vampire can be dangerous." 

"Flirting with a man like that is dangerous whether or not his a vampire,"
Karen responded, returning to the task of spooning out the cookie dough.
If a few tears were mixed into the batter, well, most cookie recipes call
for salt, and Karen had forgotten that ingredient earlier. 

And each who tasted those cookies felt a momentary pang of bitter-sweet
longing which surprised them, and left them quieter and more thoughtful
than they had been in many days. 

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

Oh, my goodness, my frivolous little post just turned into "Like Water for
Chocolate."  Just be glad it didn't turn into "The Bridges of Toronto
County." 

(Excerpt.) He drove up to her house in the Cadillac he called "Harry." He
was the last of his breed; the last of the medieval knights. Francesca
gazed at him, her quick eyes taking in the shining helmet of blond hair,
the almost boyish vitality. She would have taken him for 35; she would be
surprised to learn he was nearly 800, this ageless man who stepped out of
his car to ask directions. She wanted to become the token he carried into
whatever battles life carried him into, wanted to smooth the still blond
hair back from his brow..... 

I'm SCARING myself!

###

APOLOGIES
by Sandra Gray

Time: Early evening
Place: The Grays' room

"I thought you said he was going to be here at seven," said Bruce.

"Maybe something came up," replied Sandra, frowning.

"He could have called and said he was going to be late," said Bruce. "I
did give him the note about where we'd be personally." 

"Maybe they were attacked."

At that moment, there was a knock on the door.  Bruce and Sandra rose from
their chairs, and Bruce walked over to the door and opened it.  Nick stood
there in a heavy black coat, his hair a little ruffled.  He stepped into
the room and Bruce shut the door behind him. 

"Sorry I'm late.  One of the Die-Hards is missing and I had to go pick up
a photo of her, take it to the station," said Nick, looking at Sandra. 
Then he looked at Bruce and said, "Mr. Gray, I'd like to speak to your
wife alone, if I may." 

Bruce looked at Sandra, who nodded.  "I'll be in the lobby," he said. But
the look he gave Nick before leaving was not exactly friendly. 

Nick waited a few seconds after Bruce had shut the door behind him, then
stepped further into the room.  "I thought you'd be at Die-Hard
Headquarters." 

"I thought it would be more private to meet here.  Bruce...rented this
room before I was...kidnapped." 

"Sandra, I...," started Nick.  "I want to apologize for what I said to you
at the Raven, and for...for leaving you there." 

"You should have let me try to explain." 

"I know, and I'm sorry I didn't.  Can you forgive me for the way I treated
you?" 

Sandra looked into his blue eyes, then down at her hands.  "Nick, I...
There's something I need to tell you about the wine bottles...and my
blouse." 

"Sandra, you don't--"

Sandra turned away from him, "Yes, I do.  LaCroix and I...we played strip
poker and I..."  Her vision blurred and she shut her eyes, striving for
the control to--

"I know," said Nick.

It was the last thing Sandra expected to hear and she whirled to look
at him.  "What do you mean, you know?"

Nick came closer to her, reaching into a pocket in his coat as he did so. 
He withdrew an unlabelled videotape and she felt her heart cringe. "So he
sent you proof of my weakness," she said, not looking at him. She turned
away from him and walked over to the window.  "So why did you bother to
come here?" she continued numbly, trying to focus on the rose drapes
rather than the memories of LaCroix's white body, his lips on hers...*Take
me.*

And then there was a hand on her arm and she was pulled around.  "I told
you.  I came to apologize.  I brought this--" 

"To wave as proof if I wasn't honest with you?"  She regretted the words
as soon as they left her lips. 

"No," said Nick stiffly.  "I thought--I thought you'd want it.  I've been
assured no one else kept a copy." 

*The Knighties had seen this?* Sandra felt her face grow warm.  *Of course
they had to.* She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. And the
Cousin who monitored the camera--heck, for all she knew *all* the Cousins
had seen it.  *The only copy.* The only copy *he* had maybe.  LaCroix, at
least, had to have another. 

"Sandra?"

She opened her eyes and looked into those oh so endearing blue ones.

"Sandra, I'm not here to judge.  I'm here to ask your forgiveness. This is
all my fault.  You would never have been kidnapped if you hadn't gotten
involved with me." 

Sandra pulled away from him and walked over to the dresser.  "As much as
you might like to take all the blame, you can't.  I wish I could blame it
all on drink, but I can't do that either.  I wanted LaCroix.  He chose not
to...  I don't think I would have cared if he killed me or brought me
over, as long as he...  How could you trust me after..., how could the
Knighties..."  She looked in the mirror. "...When I can't trust myself?" 
She turned and looked at him.  "I forgive you, for whatever that's worth." 

"Don't let him dm do this to you.  Come back to the loft with me."

"I can't.  I'm sorry."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Go back to the Die-Hards, I guess.  Or go home."

"Isn't there anything I can do?"

"Just burn the tape."  But whether he did or not didn't matter as she felt
dead inside. 

"I will.  I promise.  And...if you decide to come back to the loft, you'll
be welcome." 

Sandra turned away and said quickly, "You should go."  She listened to the
door open and shut behind her. 

She closed her eyes and wished she could feel as dead as she had felt a
moment ago... 

###

THE VAQUEROS PLAN THEIR ATTACK
Or: Too Much Advertising Is Bad for Your Sense of Humor
by Torrey Harris

Time: 8pm EST
Place: Vachon's church

"What am I supposed to do during all of this interrogation?" asked Vachon,
as he fiddled with the cork off of a wine bottle. 

"You...are our secret weapon", Torrey answered, happy to see a bewildered
look come across Vachon's face.  \\He looks so cute when he is
bewildered.//

"What...you want me to hoodoo them into telling you what you want to
know?", Vachon asked, slipping into his 'I am talking to Nick' voice, one
octave higher mode. 

"No!", Torrey exclaimed, shaking her head, "We don't need any more
Janette's running around!" 

"You know...", Sherri spoke next. "No-one really knows what Vachon is
like, after all...why can't he be our heavy?"  Looking at Vachon, Torrey
nearly purred in response, "Hmmm...you mean the good cop/bad cop kind of
thing?" 

"It could work," Sherri answers, also looking at Vachon.

"I don't know", Crystal says looking at Vachon also. "He just doesn't look
all that scary to me." 

"Well, Vachon," Torrey asks, walking over to him. "Can you be intimidating
if you want to?" 

Becoming unnerved at the stares he was receiving from his Vaqueros, he
looks around. "Umm, like what?", asks Vachon, suddenly feeling
uncomfortable with the direction the discussion was heading. 

"Well...like, make your eyes glow, or, float around the room, or ...
Something. Sheezzz, Javier, you're a Vampire! Can't you think of
something?" Torrey asked plaintively, her voice rising ever higher with
exasperation. 

"Can you, ...well, ..I mean..., is it safe for you to kind of vamp out
with us all here?", asked Cindy timidly. 

"Do you mean, will I bite you? ...No, I have much more control than that."
Vachon answered, looking a little put off and uncomfortable. 

"Ok...then let's see it... do that glowing thing with your eyes", Torrey
says, sitting down on her box. 

"Fine!" Vachon says.

Vamp on.

Vamp off.

Blink.

Vamp on.

Vamp off.

Blink.

Blink.

"Not bad...", Sherri says from her box. "This *could* work."

<Hysterical laughter is heard from the back of the room.> The Vaqueros and
Vachon look around.  Cindy is rolled into a ball laughing herself silly. 

"What is so funny?!?" Vachon asks, looking down at the now prone Vaquera,
an expression of complete incomprehension on his face. 

"<gasp, heh, heh> He..... <heh, heh, gasp> He looks <gasp, heh> like a
clapper vampire!" Cindy gasps between fits of laughter. 

It started small, but grew quickly through the room. What started as a few
small giggles turned into a mass of Vaqueros joining Cindy on the floor
giggling and gasping for breath. 

Vachon looked at his faction rolling around on the floor.

Blink.

\\I don't get it!// He thought to himself.  He watched the ensuing 15
minutes of hysteria with increasing exasperation.  \\What - is - so -
funny!?? I don't understand mortals!//

As the various Vaqueros began to recover, most, he noticed, sat with their
*backs* to each other, and were trying to regain their composure.  He
asked Sherri who had tears streaming down her face, "What is all this?" 
Sherri muttered something into her shirt tail.  "What?"  "<heh heh> I'm
sorry, I'm sorry, it's a stupid advertisement.  Just don't look at me for
a while, and I'll be ok." 

Vachon shook his head.  Turning to Torrey, he said, "You want to frighten
your captives, and use me for the bad guy, right?"  Torrey nodded.  "Who
is going to do the kidnapping?" 

"Hmmm, good question.  I guess we need to nail the details down now, don't
we?"  She caught the attention of the other Vaqueros, and speaking quietly
started laying out her plans.  Vachon listened quietly, and started
laughing. \\This is going to be good!//

###

A LITTLE DOMESTIC DISAGREEMENT
by Jana Hege 

Time: 9pm EST
Place: A Toronto hotel room
     
"Are you going to give up on this stupid War thing?" Joe
     
Jana smiled her sweetest, most charming smile at her husband of 3 1/2
years.  "Not a chance." 
     
Joe sighed.  "But they don't even know you're here yet. You're not
_actually_ involved.  You can still leave." 
     
She shook her head.  "Uh-uh.  Urs knows I'm coming.  And Torrey -- I just
talked to her.  In fact, that was more than 24 hours ago and I think if I
don't show up at that church soon, they might send a certain vampire out
looking for me."  She knew she was bluffing, but Joe didn't. 
     
"What if this Vachon decides he wants to keep you for himself?" 
    
"Like that'll happen.  He probably won't even notice me." She ran a hand
through her short, dark brown hair and sighed. Then she glanced at her
watch.  Sooner or later, he'd have to take a shower -- he believed
fanatically in good hygiene -- and then she'd make her escape. 
     
"Do you _really_ think they'd send Vachon after you?"
     
"Okay, maybe not.  But Torrey knows I'm here, and she seems to be
relatively organized.  Sooner or later, someone's going to be looking for
me."  She folded her arms and smiled smugly, her green eyes sparkling. 
     
Joe nodded, conceding defeat.  "In that case," he said, "I'm coming with
you." 
     
This she hadn't expected.  "But, but, but you're unaffiliated." 
     
"Oh, I don't know.  I'm beginning to appreciate some of the finer aspects
of Vachon's character." 
     
Jana frowned.  "And what would those be?"
     
"Um, um, uh..."
     
"That's what I thought.  But you're cute.  Okay, you can come." 
     
"Great!"  He hugged her, which made the dogs jealous.  They jumped up and
ran around the two in circles. 
     
"What did you say Tracy's faction was called?" Joe asked as they grabbed
their coats and the dogs' leashes. 
     
"Perkulators.  Why?  You don't like Tracy."
     
"Maybe I do."
     
Jana rolled her eyes.  "Partly will be thrilled."

****

Time: 10pm EST
Place: Outside the Abandoned Church (tm)
     
Joe and Jana, towed by border collies Dobie and Zelda, approached the old
building quietly.  She had been explaining to him as they walked that they
would be safer staying with Vachon than they would in the hotel room.  Joe
now regarded the old building with disdain. 
     
"Somehow I doubt he has central heating."
     
"Oh, get over it.  Besides, it'll give us an excuse to snuggle." 
     
"Um, is it my imagination or are there cow markings all over that place?" 
    
Just then, the front door of the church opened.  "Jana, is that you?" 
     
Jana instantly recognized the now-famous long red hair. "Torrey!  Hey, I
came as fast as I could."  She glanced pointedly at Joe.  Torrey looked
over at him. 
     
"Hey, great!  We could use a man in this faction.  Uh, not that we don't
already have one," she stuttered. 
     
"Well, technically he's unaffiliated.  But officially he's on whatever
team I'm on.  Now, what's been happening?" 
     
Torrey ushered the two people and their dogs into the church, explaining
recent events to them on the way. 

###

NEW FRIENDS AND OLD
Or: Vachon Has a Flashback
by Jana Hege

Time: 10:05pm EST
Place: The Abandoned Church
     
Jana and Joe let go of Dobie and Zelda's leashes as they entered the old
church.  The dogs immediately bounded up the steps, drawn by the scents of
people they'd never licked in the face.  Dobie's vigorously wagging tail
knocked little dents in the already-somewhat-disintegrated walls as he
went. 
     
The couple followed Torrey up the same steps as she explained the
Vaqueros' recently drawn plans for kidnapping a member of each faction. 
Jana grinned. 
     
"This sounds _great_.  About time people realized that just because we
like the new guy in town doesn't mean we're wet behind the ears," she said
to Torrey. 
     
"This is _stupid_," Joe said.  "What if they decide to get back at us? 
I'm not even _in_ this ridiculous faction!" 
     
"Joe!" Jana shot him a warning look.  "This is _war_.  I said you could
come along, but don't rock the boat." 
     
They arrived at the top of the stairs to the sounds of several Vaqueras
squealing as Dobie and Zelda ran around them in circles and occasionally
planted big sloppy kisses on their faces. 
     
"Dogs!" Joe called.  The two ran back over to his side and he grabbed
their leashes. 
     
Someone, Jana didn't see who, asked, "Why did you bring dogs?" 
     
She shrugged.  "Dunno.  Seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, from
what Torrey just told me, it sounds like we could use a couple of guards
around here.  They may seem cute and cuddly, but if someone tries to break
in here they'll be sorry." 
     
As she spoke, a figure moved out of the shadows toward her. "Jana?" the
figure said. 
     
She looked toward him and as their eyes locked, they were caught in a
simultaneous flashback. 

<Spain, June 1988.
     
Jana had just graduated from high school and her wealthy grandmother
decided (since Jana had taken 4 years of Spanish) to take her to Spain as
a gift.  They had been in Madrid two days and decided to check out the
city's night life.  Unfortunately, since they were traveling on a tour
bus, they had no transportation and were forced to walk. 
     
Suddenly the two were surrounded by a group of rag-wearing, loudly
yammering people.  "Gypsies," Jana whispered to her grandmother.  "Just
ignore them."  But instead of going away, the gypsies circled closer. 
Jana felt hands reaching into her pockets which were, thankfully, empty. 
Finding nothing, the gypsies began screaming at them in Spanish. 
     
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man with long, straggly brown hair appeared. 
He yelled out the word, "Dinero!" and held up a shiny peseta.  The gypsies
froze.  The man threw the coin across the street into the gutter.  The
gypsies ran after it.  Jana sighed in relief. 
     
"Gracias," she said.  She held out her hand for him to shake.  "Me llamo
Jana." 
     
"Javier Vachon," the man replied.  "De nada."
     
"Habla ud. ingles?" she asked.  He nodded.
     
"Great!  What do you mean, it was nothing?  They were gonna kill us!" 
     
"They wouldn't have hurt you.  They just wanted money."
     
"Well, anyway, thanks.  I owe you one.  We were just heading to that club
down there.  Want to come?" 
     
He shrugged.  "Sure."
     
Jana's grandmother, despite being incredibly hip for her age, felt a
little too rattled by the whole gypsy incident to continue, and went back
to the hotel. 
     
In the club, Jana was introduced to two of Vachon's friends, Urs and
Screed.  She related the incident to them, Vachon the whole time trying to
convince them it was no big deal.  By the time the evening was over, she
had sworn in front of his two companions that somehow, some way, she would
pay back the favor.>
     
Jana now looked into the eyes of the man (er, whatever) she still felt had
saved her life.  "Javier.  Good to see you again." 
     
Vachon approached her, bent down and placed a light kiss on each cheek. 
"You've grown up," he said. 
     
Joe quickly stepped forward.  "And gotten married," he said, a little too
loud. 
     
"Ah, yes, you must be Joe."  He reached out to shake Joe's hand, a slight
grin playing about his lips. 
     
Jana's eyes widened.  She hadn't talked to Vachon since that night in
Spain.  "How did you --?" 
     
"Urs told me.  You didn't really think she'd keep her correspondence with
you a secret from me, did you?"  He tapped his temple with his forefinger. 
"After all, she is my child. So, you've come up here to... join my
faction?" 
     
She nodded.  "For a long time I was a Die-Hard.  But when I saw you as a
character on FK, well, naturally I had to shift my allegiance."  She
cocked an eyebrow.  "Even though I was a _bit_ surprised to learn you're a
vampire." 
     
"Well, it's good to have you on the team."  He glanced down at the dogs. 
"Better keep them away from Screed." 

###

A LONGSHOT FOR LONGPATH (d)
by Lane Lombardia

Time: Evening
Place: New Canaan, CT

The Bureau had moved swiftly once the anonymous tips had begun appearing
all over the country. The information had rolled in so swiftly that, the
Bureau was having a great deal of difficulty tracking down, and verifying
the leads. Had there not been incredible pressure to make arrests, the
Bureau would have seen that the leads were false. Those leads were
cleverly designed so that the more they tried to look into the evidence
handed to them, the more they utterly obliterated the true trail. In the
end, they were faced with a choice, and political expediency had priority. 

--------------------------------------

Place: Alfred, NY

The FBI SWAT team arrested the "Alfred Mercs" that night. They had come in
heavily armed, and armored. They were in no mood for discussion. There was
overwhelming evidence of conspiracy to commit an act of terrorism against
an icon of American pop culture. There were documents of incorporation for
holding companies that had purchased the African Termites, and the
equipment needed to keep them alive in the cold, drizzly New England
weather. There were tape recordings on 8mm DAT's of conspiratorial
plotting sessions. There was even some evidence of an attempted kidnapping
of a possible witness, although the identity of this witness could not be
determined. 

###

KARYN'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT?
by Toni C. Holm

Time: Late evening
Place: Toronto Airport

Knightie Karyn Swanson was having a bad day.  The week had started well
enough, the federal express package with the birthday wrapped tickets to
Toronto -- timed just so she could get away from work, the party at The
Raven, seeing all the others again.  A quick visit to her brother and then
off to the airport for a red-eye flight that would just barely get her
home to go direct to work on-time in the morning .  The schedule was
cutting it close & she wouldn't be getting a lot of sleep but the trip had
been worth it. 

Of course there were some strange discrepancies. Her brother, Andrew had
denied sending her the tickets as a belated birthday present.  It wasn't
the sort of impulsive gestures he was given to, but Karyn had been so
sure. Andrew never missed her birthday and when the tickets had shown up
Monday she knew why he had been late this year.  After all, who else would
have known she wanted to be in Toronto so badly and could have checked on
her work schedule.  Now she wasn't so certain. The airport lounge was
crowded with people.  The gate agent had been entirely unsympathetic.  "No
miss, this ticket is not valid for this flight. You changed you return
booking to next week, and there just isn't any room.  The ticket counter
agent had been equally unhelpful.  "I'm sorry Ms. Swanson, but you can see
right here where we changed the reservation, isn't that your credit card
number for the $35.00 fee?"  I just don't have any open flights to
Vancouver till next week.  Seattle? My no, that's been booked for weeks. 
There's some kind of big software convention going on." 

"Well, might as well face it", she thought to herself, "I'll have to call
the store and tell them I'm stranded here."  She was dreading the call.
Although she'd managed the store for years, the company wasn't fond of
having their employees just disappear this close to the holidays.  Only
one person at the store even knew she was in Toronto, She'd traded
Wednesday for Thursday with Laurie so Laurie could leave on her 3 week
long dreamed of Himalayan hiking trip a day early.  "OK", she thought, "
I'll just tell them it was an emergency and...  and what?" There was no
way this call was going to be any fun. 

She picked up the phone and dialed in her credit card number.
"Card--Number--Not--Valid" said the mechanical voice.  She dialed again
more carefully.  The mechanical stuttering voice came on again.  She
dialed again from another phone, same result, and again, the same.  "OK"
she thought savagely, "this just isn't going to be my day".  20 minutes
later after waiting in line to purchase a tiny, airport-sized $2.00 packet
of Wrigley's Spearmint gum (which she hadn't wanted in the first place,
but no-one at the Toronto airport, it seemed could open their register to
give change without a purchase) she was back at the bank of phones.  Good
thing she'd only brought clothes for 2 days she thought, glad her bag
wasn't heavier, and then remembered. Unless she found someway to get back
to Vancouver soon, she might well need some more clothes, a _lot_ more
clothes.  "Ok, no more putting it off", she said to herself, and punched
in the numbers. 

"Sam The Record Man, Eaton's Metrotown" , an unfamiliar voice answered. "
Hi, who's this?" she said.  "This is the store manager", the voice icily
replied, "Who are you?"  "Ha, ha, good one" she said thinking it was Jana
one of her employees who loved practical jokes.  "It's Karyn", she began,
"Look, I'm in Toronto and I don't have the District Manager's number and I
need it".  "I can't give you that information, Ma'am" the voice replied.
"If you'd want to make a complaint I have an address in Manitoba you can
write".  " Come on, Jana" she said beginning to get impatient, "I've had a
bad day and now I have to call headquarters & tell them I'm stuck in
Toronto". "I'm not Jana, and I don't know who you are, or why you want to
tell us you're in Toronto, but I'm afraid I don't have any more time for
practical jokes today, Goodbye". 

Karyn called back several times, hanging up when she got the officious
voice.  After going though the line for more gum (and change) several
times, she finally got a voice she recognized.  " Hi Jenny", she said,
"who was that woman in the store today?"  "Have I been replaced already?",
she asked laughing. Jenny laughed back "Karyn, I knew you must have been
playing some kind of joke today, you just weren't yourself .. and when did
you change the spelling of your name?" "My name?" Karyn said, momentarily
distracted from larger issues, "What do you mean".  "That new name badge
you had on today", Jenny replied.  "Kayrn", Jenny laughed again sounding
it out "kay-run". "Did corporate just screw up your badge so you decided
to take on a new personality to match?"  "Jennifer", I wasn't at work
today.  I traded with Laurie".  "Oh right Karyn", Jenny snorted, "And next
you're going to be telling me you weren't even in town. You just left here
30 minutes ago, I was just cleaning up as you asked.  Enough is enough
already". 

Try as she might Karyn couldn't convince Jenny that she _hadn't_ been at
work today, and that indeed this "Kayrn" person must be some kind of
imposter, hired to take her place.  Just as Karyn was beginning to get
really hysterical, the phone call was interrupted by a mechanical voice
asking for more coins and before Karyn could put them in they were cut
off. 

"All right", she thought, "get a grip on yourself".  "You're stranded in
Toronto, your work thinks you're there, and it's getting close to
midnight." " So as long as the imposter doesn't do anything too weird, you
probably won't get fired and Kevin was planning to be at that software
conference starting tomorrow anyway".  Karyn took a deep breath.  She was
normally the responsible type, but if someone had brought her to Toronto
and was going to all this trouble to keep her there, chances are that
unknown was here as well. Maybe she should just roll with it. She wasn't
going to spend the night at the airport worrying.  She started to call
Nick's loft to get one of the Knighties to give her a lift and then
stopped in her tracks. "Back to the line for more gum", she thought,
"first she'd have to call her husband in Vancouver and make sure *he*
didn't mistake any "Kayrn" for her..." 

###

RECOVERY OF DIANNE PARTY AND CLEAN-UP AT THE SOUVLAKI
by Christina Kamnikar

Time: Late night
Place: Happy Souvlaki

Various bits of conversation overheard at a good deli---

 "It WAS Lane's idea, but I did the calculations---"
 "You wouldn't have gone through with it, if I hadn't obtained the dynamite."
 "Would so."
 "Would not."
 "Would SO!"
 "Would NOT!"
 "CHILDREN!!!!" A pause, then, "Why don't you both have another club
sandwich?" 

"...not as bad as some kidnaps; mostly boring, I have to admit. Although
Uncle was amusing..." 
 "Amusing? Lacroix??? Are you mad?"
 "No, but he was. Let me tell you about bugs dancing in the moonlight..."

 "...wonderful opportunity to practice for meeting Immortals."
 (patient voice) "Uh, you do know that they don't exist, right?"
 "They don't exist HERE. But that doesn't mean they don't exist
SOMEWHERE...after all, we just escaped from vampires, right?" 

 "...great soundtrack. Although it could have used more Queen."
 "And more Sting."
 "REM!"
 "Personally, I'm sorry we didn't get to hear any Bond themes... hey,
Chris? Where did we put that transmitting equipment?" 

 "Push that support beam over there, Maureen. I am glad you guys decided
to help with this... saves on legal fees..." 
 "No problem, Pam. Free food always brings out the best in us."

 "So, is it always like this?"
 "I have no idea---Dianne, are you really going to eat ALL of that?"
 <<Incoherent mumbles>>
 "I think she said yes, it's always like this, but not usually so
well-catered." 

 "More cement."
 "More grout."
 "More mayonnaise!"
 "Actually, I've heard of worse bonding materials..."

 "...can't believe you flew in for this! I thought your WebPage and Adult
List were still being reconstructed..." 
 "...always wanted to take out CERK, I couldn't resist the opportunity.
Chris FAXED me a plane ticket---now BOTH Lane & I have debts to repay to
the Guild..." 

 "No, DEFINITELY NOT. Okay? We almost got caught, we're not doing a
'Knight's Greatest Hits' retrospective!" 
 "Aw, c'mon, tell me you don't want to interrupt the Nightcrawler
himself..." 
 "What are you planning..."
 "Goodness, Gracious Great Balls of Fire!"
 "Heartbreak Hotel!"
 "Blue Suede Shoes!"
 "BTO!"
 "Oh, sweet mother of God... never, ever, ever again... "

 "Oooh, shrimp!"

 "MUCH better than the last party we held here. What did you guys do with
all that Ribena, anyway?" 
 "Donated it to the homeless---listen, I didn't tell you about the visitor
we had earlier..." 

 <CRASH!>
 "What the..."
 "No, Berg, you DON'T nail it that way; well, I guess you can see why now,
hunh?" 

And various other asides, as good music was heard, good food eaten, the
Happy Souvlaki rebuilt, and finally... 

 "I can't believe Christina conned us into this."
 "Where is she, anyway?"
 "She conked out on that pile of tarp over there... something about wake
her for Armageddon or Nick naked, but nothing else... I'll take her back
to the Raven in the morning, she's still assigned to me. Oh, and thanks
for letting me sit in on this, all of you. It's enough to make me want to
be a Merc!" 
 "Hey, anytime you want to join..."

###