***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