Forever Knight

And To All a Good Knight

**********

Los Angeles

He cursed the lawn mower.  He cursed the mower with epithets that had not been uttered in centuries.  He cursed the mower in many languages, some no longer spoken, including several Old French dialects.  He should have taken Mike Guerrereo's advice and hired one of the teenage boys in the complex to do the chores, but it was his turn to be the manager du jour.  It was the first time he had ever had to do anything like this and he took his duties seriously.

This was not Christmas.  Christmas was snow.  Christmas was pine trees.  Christmas was carols and egg nog. Christmas was not 85 degrees, palm trees, pina coladas and gangsta rap.  Christmas was Natalie …

**********

Toronto 1992

He pulled the blanket tighter around him as he shifted on the couch.  It was far too cold to even think about going upstairs to the bedroom.  Although he could tolerate the cold temperatures far better than any mortal could, this particular winter was one of the coldest on record.  The temperature had not peaked above five above zero in over a week.  In addition, his furnace would have to choose this particular time to go out.  He had called several repair places, but every place was so backed up that no one would be able come to fix it until well after the New Year.   He had a fireplace, but even that did not provide nearly enough heat to warm the cavernous loft more than a few degrees, and he couldn't get close enough to the flames to even take advantage of what little heat it did put out.  It was at times like this that he wished he had taken a smaller place.  There had to be something better than this.

The buzzer sounded.

"Go away.  Let me freeze to death in peace."  He mumbled.

"Nick.  It's me.  Open up."  Natalie Lambert said over the intercom.  "I've forgotten your new security code."

"Hold on, I'm coming."  With considerable effort he rose, and shuffled to the door on feet he could barely feel.  It took several tries to key in the access code to unlock the door.  His numbed fingers did not want to respond.

"It's colder than a well digger's buns out there."  Natalie said, stomping her feet and blowing on her hands in an attempt to warm them.  Then she noticed the frost was still on her breath.  "And I see that it's not much better in here, either.  I know you don't mind the cold, but this is ridiculous.  Can't you turn the heat up just a little?"

"No I can't.  I have no choice in the matter.  My furnace went bye bye two days ago, and no one can fix it until January 8th at the earliest."

"Then let's get you out of here."  She said, taking his hand and starting for the door.  She noted that his nails and the tips of his fingers were definitely blue, and from the way he was walking … or more aptly hobbling … it was probable that his toes were turning blue as well.

"It's okay, Nat.  I can handle it. Like you said, I'm not affected by the cold like everyone else is."

"No it's not okay.  I know you won't die from the cold, but I don't particularly like the thought of you ending up as a frozen vampirecicle.  I'm taking you somewhere warm.  My place.  That's why I came here in the first place.  Everyone is there for an impromptu Christmas party.  Schanke practically ordered me to come here and fetch you.  Trust me.  You wouldn't want to disappoint Don Schanke, would you?" 

She stopped, turned, and went upstairs to his bedroom.  Several minutes later, she appeared at the balcony with a suitcase in her hands. "Clothes."  She said.  "You're not coming back here until the furnace is fixed."  She went to the refrigerator and took out several green bottles and put them in a sack.

Nick started to protest, but Natalie cut him short.

"I am your doctor.  Doctor's orders.  Got that?"  She handed him his coat and gloves.

Nick only nodded.  He knew that when Natalie Lambert got something into her head, it was less than useless to even think about trying to talk her out of it.

**********

Twenty five minutes later, he was sitting in Natalie's apartment cradling a mug of steaming  hot coffee.  Although he could not drink it, Natalie had given it to him both for appearances, and to try to coax some circulation into his nearly frozen fingers. It was working.  He could feel the warmth spreading through his hands.  He even managed to take a small sip of the steaming liquid.  It tasted like boiled swamp mud, but it had warmed him inside as well.  He just hoped that he wouldn't bring it back up.  So far, so good.

The difference in their living quarters was total.  Where his loft was dark and somber, Natalie's apartment was filled with warm pastels, accented with generous patches of vivid color.  Bright garlands and tinsel festooned every open area, and in one corner of the living area stood an enormous Christmas tree laden with ornaments and lights.  Numerous brightly wrapped boxes lay underneath.

Joe Stonetree, Grace Balthazar, and several people he recognized but did not know by name were there as well as Don and Myra Schanke and their daughter Jenny.

Don came over to him and handed him a box wrapped in bright paper.  "I was hoping you'd come.  Myra, Jenny, and I got you this.  I know it ain't much, but what the hey, it's the thought that counts."

It was a tie.  A bright orange and neon green wide striped tie. 

"I don't have anything for you."  Nick said softly as he intently studied his shoes.  "In fact, I don't have any presents for anyone."  He was looking directly at Natalie.

"Oh yes you do.  Don't you remember?  You left then here for safekeeping.  I took the liberty of wrapping them for you."  She said in a loud stage voice as she led him into the bedroom.  There on the bed were several wrapped boxes.  "I figured you wouldn't buy anything, so while I was out doing my Christmas shopping, I bought extra things for you to give.  Just in case."  Natalie quickly filled him in on what each gift contained.

He handed the present marked 'Don' to Schanke, and the ones marked 'Myra' and 'Jenny' to them.  Don's was a tie, dark blue with conservative maroon and gray striping. Myra's was a Hummel figurine of a turn of the century Santa Claus.  Don had once mentioned that Myra collected Hummels.  Jenny squealed with delight as she unwrapped the latest Bono/U2 album.  According to Natalie, Rolling Stones Magazine had named Bono as the 'Sexiest Male Singer of the Year'.

Stonetree's present to Nick was a handcuffs tie clasp, and his present to Stonetree was a mug with his name on it.  Grace gave him a box of Whitman's Chocolates.  She gave that to everyone.  He gave her a book of inspirational poems.

It was almost 11:00 before the Schankes left to go to Midnight Mass.  They were the last of the guests to leave.  Nick and Natalie sat on the couch.  Nick with a glass of something red.  Nat with a mug of hot buttered rum.  "Why do I get the distinct feeling that tonight was not quite as impromptu as you said it was?"  He asked.

"Would you have come here if I had told you in advance?"

"No."

" 'Nuff said."

"Here."  She said, fishing a small package from under the tree and handing it to him.   "My present to you."  He stared at it for several moments.  "Open it before I burst a blood vessel with excitement."  She said, cuffing him gently on the shoulder.

With trembling hands, he carefully removed the paper from the gift.  It was framed a five by seven picture of him and her, obviously a composite portrait.  The message 'I care' was inscribed along the bottom in Natalie's writing.

He hung his head.  "I can't take this.  I have nothing for you.  And I didn't see anything in the bedroom with your name on it, either."

"Yes you do have a present for me.  It's just not the kind you can put in a box with a bow on it.  You have given me your trust and your faith.  You have let me see just a little bit of your inner self.  I know how hard that is for you to do, and I appreciate it.  It's the best present you could possibly give me."  She reached over and kissed him gently on the lips.   It was more than a friend's kiss, but less than a lover's kiss.  There was a promise, though … maybe …

**********

Los Angeles  Present

He was forcibly snapped back to reality as the wrench slipped off the bolt, mashing his thumb against the frame of the mower.  He uttered a forceful string of profanities, dazzling in brilliance and blinding in intensity.  Even though his thumb would be healed in a matter of minutes, for now the pain was throbbing and exquisite.

"My, my, Nicholas.  Such language."  Lucien LaCroix stood behind him.  There was what only could be described as a gloating look on his face.  "Are we by any chance a teensy bit grumpy tonight?"  He dripped sarcasm.

"LaCroix!  I'm in no mood for your taunts and jibes.  Unless you are an expert in small engine repair, please go away and leave me be."

"Is that any way for a son to talk to his father?"  < Was that a hint of dejection in his voice? >

"I'm sorry, LaCroix.  It's just that right now I'm very busy and extremely frustrated."  Suddenly it dawned on him that this was the first time he had sincerely apologized to LaCroix.  For anything.

"I understand.  I should not have come on so sarcastically.  Here.  Let me help you."  LaCroix took off his jacket and bent down and picked up the wrench.  He held it firmly against the bolt while Nick tightened the nut to it.  Suddenly, Nick realized that this was the first time LaCroix had ever apologized to him.  For anything.

They worked intently and in near silence, speaking only when necessary for the better part of an hour.  When they were finished, Nick pulled on the starter cord.  The motor sputtered a few times and then roared to life.  There was a satisfied smile on LaCroix's face as he wiped his hands on the towel Nick handed him.  "I enjoyed doing that."  He said as he handed it back.  "But I do not ever want to do it again."

Nick shut off the mower.  "The lawn can wait.  Let's go inside.  I think I have a bottle or two of your favorite vintage."

"Isn't this the … what is it called again … Christmas Season?  I am certain that you would much rather be spending some time with your … friends."  < Was that self pity? >

"It looks like I've got the season all to myself.  Toni's getting ready to go to the airport.  She's flying to Columbus Ohio to be with her family.  Although he wasn't too happy about it, Mike Taylor left Saturday for San Francisco to spend a week with his mother and father.   A demand appearance as he called it.  Clarissa went with Jeb to Haven's Corners for the holidays.  The Giovanetti's asked me to spend Christmas Eve with them at the restaurant, but with all that garlic they use … I politely declined.  That leaves just you and me."  He turned to face LaCroix.  LaCroix was gone.

**********

Nick handed his credit card to the cashier.  She studied the pile of merchandise on the counter.  "Typical male."  She said to the sales person at the next register.  "Waits 'till the last minute to do all of his Christmas shopping."  With a look of barely hidden frustration mixed with exhaustion, she began to process the purchases.

There was a blood maroon lounge jacket for LaCroix.  Even though he did not celebrate Christmas, Nick had still bought a present for him.  Call it a Saturnalia present if you must.  Besides, Nick had noticed that his black one was starting to look ever so slightly threadbare.  That would never do for LaCroix's tastes.  For Clarissa, a set of iridescent lead crystal wine goblets.  Nikki's present was an engraved gold plated business card holder.  It took a little 'persuading' to convince the sales person at the jewelry counter to engrave it on the spot.  Nichole was going to receive what had to be the last Tickle Me Elmo in Southern California.  He had thought about getting her a set of Beanie Babies, but after seeing the crowd at the toy counter where they were being sold, he changed his mind.  He was immortal, not suicidal.  Last but not least, there was a catnip ball for Hoiman. 

That left only one person to buy for.  Toni.  He had racked his brain for the perfect present for her.  She did not smoke.  She did not drink.  She rarely wore expensive clothing.  Even rarer was her use of perfume or makeup beyond powder and lipstick.  Except for a watch, he had never seen her wear any jewelry.  As far as he knew, she was not into gourmet cooking.  < Oh well, she won’t be back until after the first of the year.  That gives me plenty of time. >

Suddenly, what sounded like a loud explosion reverberated through the store.  It took Nick a few seconds to realize that it had come not from a bomb, but from a shotgun blast.  It had come from the bridal department.  Almost instantly, Nick was there.  A nervous young man, perhaps 22 or 23, was holding the shotgun to the head of a terrified female salesclerk.  As Nick approached, he turned the shotgun on him.

"Stay right there.  I'll kill you if you come any closer.  I swear."  The youth's heart was beating at an alarming rate, and his breathing was rapid and shallow.  He was definitely on the edge.

Nick backed off a few steps.  He thought about using hypnosis on him, but the man was in such an agitated state, he doubted it would do any good.  Then again, the last time he tried to diffuse a hostage situation that way, it did not work and an innocent girl had died.  If he was to settle this, he would have to do it the hard way.  The mortal way.   He raised his hands.  "Okay.  Let's not do anything hasty.  What do you want?"

"A priest."

"A priest?"

"To marry us."

"I'll never marry you."  The girl said, her voice shaking.  "I told you a dozen times  already.  It's over between us.  Why won't you accept that?"

"I can love you better that anyone else can.  You had no right to call it off.  You know we belong together, and once we're married, you'll see I'm right.  Everything will be perfect.  You'll see."  He brought the shotgun back to her head.

Nick's mind raced.  "I can help you, my son."  He said softly, pressing his fingertips together.  "It so happens I'm with the Eternal Life Ministries."  Nick had no idea where that came from.  "Would it be all right if I had a word with the bride to be?"

"Why?"

"Perhaps I can convince her to marry you."

The man lowered the gun slightly.  Nick went to the girl.  "Play along with me."  He whispered quickly.  "I'm not a minister.  I'm a policeman."  With that, the girl calmed down some.

"Okay."  She said with a trembling voice to the man.  "I'll marry you."

"Good.  I knew you'd see that we are meant for each other.  Get on with it, Reverend."

"Unfortunately, I'm rather new at this, my son.  I have never actually performed a wedding before and I seem to have left my book at home.  Would it be all right if I called my superior and asked for his help?"

"Okay.  But no nonsense, or Linda here gets it."

"Linda.  Good.  And what is your name?  Just for the record."

"Bill.  Bill Parsons..  She's Linda Mahen."

Gingerly, Nick reached into his jacket pocket and took out his notebook and a pen and wrote their names in it.  Then just as carefully, he took out his cell phone.  He dialed Bill Ganlon's cell phone number.

Inspector Bill Ganlon answered on the first ring.

"Sir. This is Knight. I am at Bullocks Department Store and I find myself in a rather embarrassing situation."

"Are you by any chance in the middle of the hostage situation there?"  Ganlon asked.

"Uh. Huh.  I know you're busy with your sermon, but I wonder if you could help me out."

"Can't talk.  Right?"

"That's correct, sir. You see, there is this couple here that want to get married, and I seem to have left my book in my study.  Perhaps you could walk me through the ceremony."

"Davies and I are just pulling into the parking lot now.  There's a SWAT team standing by.  Keep them occupied until we get there."  Ganlon hung up.

Still cradling the dead phone to his ear, Nick kept up the conversation.  "I see.  Okay.  I'll tell them.  My superior says it will take him a few minutes to find the proper page."  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the front rows of the crowd that had gathered a safe distance from there were gradually being replaced by plainclothes police officers.  He recognized a few of them.  He spotted Captain Jerry Davies and Inspector Ganlon approaching.  Now he had to find a way to get them close enough.  He had an idea. 

"Okay."  He said.  "He's found his place.  We're ready to begin.  Do you have two witnesses?  According to my superior, it's not legal unless there are two witnesses."  He motioned to Davies and Ganlon.   "You two.  Come here.   You can be the witnesses."  He positioned Davies beside Bill and Ganlon next to Linda.  "You must be holding hands."  He said to the couple.  Gently, he placed his hand on the shotgun and slowly lowered it to the floor.  "It will be all right there."  He assured Bill. 

As soon as Bill let go of the shotgun, Davies grabbed his arms and pinned them behind his back.  In the same instant, Ganlon pushed Linda to the floor.  Nick kicked the shotgun out of reach.

"Police."  Nick said pulling his badge from his pocket.  "You have the right to remain silent … "

"A cop!  I trusted you!"  Bill said with a look of betrayal.  "You lied.  You said you were a man of God.  How could you?"

"I never said I was a minister.  You just assumed that."

**********

LaCroix was waiting for him as he climbed into the Caddy.  "And just what was THAT little dog and pony show all about?"  He said with barely controlled anger.  "I understand the necessity to handle the situation in a … mortal way.  But REALLY!  A MINISTER of all things!  NICHOLAS!  What WERE you thinking!  Or WERE you even thinking at all?"

"LaCroix.  I don't know what you are getting so upset about.  It was only a minor disturbance.  It might rate a passing mention on the late news or a back page article in the papers, but then, in all probability it will be forgotten by tomorrow evening."

"You REALLY don't know, do you?  For your information, there was a TV crew filming a story on late shoppers for a spot on the evening news.  They caught the whole thing as it happened.  The station then fed it to the networks.  The spectacle was broadcast LIVE over the ENTIRE North American Continent!  And most likely by satellite relay to the REST of the world!  I'll have you know that the Community will have a field day with this."  His eyes were nearly red with rage.  "MY SON!  A MINISTER!  I will have …pardon the expression … the DEVIL of a time explaining that one!"

"That's what got you in such a lather, isn't it?  This isn't about me.  It's about you.  You've been embarrassed.  I did something you don't approve of and you're going to get a razzing because of it.  Sorry, LaCroix.  I'm not going to take the guilt trip for this.  I did what I had to do to protect those two kids and everyone else in the store, and I'd do it all over again if I had to.  I'm not the least bit sorry about what I did, and all your yelling and screaming isn't going to change that one little bit.  Live with it."

LaCroix spent the rest of the trip back to the After Sunset in a grand purple funk.

After he dropped LaCroix at his apartment, Nick went to the precinct to fill out the paperwork on the incident.

**********

"Hey, look everybody!"  The officer behind the desk called out as Nick entered the bullpen.  "If it isn't Father Knight come to pay us a visit."

"Give me your blessing, Padre."  Another shouted at him.

"Do you do baptisms and funerals, too, Reverend?"

"I'll do your funeral, Kerlowski, if you don't shut up."  Nick growled.  He knew he would never hear the end of this.  Not for a long time at least.  "Get the stake.  Drive it in now.  Pound it deep.  Don't forget to soak it in holy water and rub it with garlic while you're at it."  He grumbled to himself as he filled out the reports.

**********

He stared at Toni's window.  Something was definitely wrong.  There were lights on in her apartment.  No one should be there.  Looking around to be sure there were no others in the area, and finding no one, he slowly levitated himself to the window.  He was puzzled by what he saw.  Toni was there at the stove cooking something.  Why was she here when she should have been landing in Columbus right about now. There did not seem to be any signs that anything was amiss.  Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground and went in the front door of the building.  He went to his apartment and put his packages on the couch. 

Curiosity was getting the better of him.  Hesitantly, he knocked at her door.

"Come on in, Nick.  It's not locked."  She called.

The apartment was decorated for the season.  Pine and tinsel garlands hung from the ceiling throughout the place.  A small, ornament loaded, artificial tree stood on an end table with a stable scene positioned under it.  Santas, angels, reindeer and other Christmas figurines were on every available surface.  A four foot long knit stocking hung from the breakfast bar.

"How did you know it was me?"

"I'm not psychic or anything like that.  I spotted you playing Peeping Tom at the window a little while ago, and I figured it would only be a matter of time before your enquiring mind kicked in and you came over."

"What are you doing here, anyway?  I thought you'd be in Munks Corner by now."

"So did I.  And I would have been, but just as I was about to leave for the airport, Mom called and said that a freak blizzard hit the Central Ohio area.  Dumped seven inches of snow in three hours.  All flights in and out of Columbus have been cancelled.  Speaking of homes, what are you still doing here?  I thought for sure you'd be home with your family."

"I have no family.  The direct De Brabant line ended when my nephew Andre, Fleur's only child, died in 1307.  He was a priest.  There are a few distant cousins still around somewhere, but I don't even know who or where they are.  The castle has been sold a number of times over the centuries.  During World War II, the Nazi's used it as a headquarters and an ammunition storage depot.  Between the Resistance and the Allied bombers, there isn't very much left of it except for the foundation and part of a wall.  The family cemetery where my parents and my sister Fleur are buried is so overgrown with weeds and brush that only I know it even exists.  LaCroix and Clarissa are as close to family as I have."

**********

Brabant, France  1222

"There you are, Nicholas."  Eleven year old Fleur de Brabant called as she entered her big brother's bedroom.  "Maman wants you in the Great Hall."

"In a moment, Little Flower."  Nicholas said, folding his cloak and packing it in the trunk.

"Maman wants you in the Great Hall.  NOW!"

"And if I freeze to death on my way to Jerusalem because I do not have my cloak with me, I shall come back as a ghost and haunt you."  He spun around to face her and threw his arms in the air.  "BOO!"

"MA-M-A-A-A-N!"  Fleur screamed as she ran from the room.  Nicholas held his sides, laughing heartily at his sister's plight.

"Nicholas.  Why do you tease your little sister like that?"  Madame Catherine de Brabant stood in the doorway.

"Because she is my little sister."  Nicholas said, kissing his mother on the forehead.  "Good evening, Mother."   He picked up a tunic and started to fold it.

She took the tunic out of her son's hands and laid it on the bed with the rest of his clothes.  "You do not have to leave for Jerusalem until after the first of the year.  There will be plenty of time to pack before then.  In the meantime, you are the Lord of the Manor and there is a house full of guests in the Great Hall waiting to celebrate the Christmas with us."

"And who will be Lord of Brabant while I am fighting the Saracens in the Holy Land?"

"Your cousin Jean-Pierre will be acting as Lord until you return."

"Then why can't he act as Lord now?"

"Because YOU are the Lord."  A sad look came into her eyes.  "Nicholas.  This might be the last Christmas we all will spend together.  Who knows what will happen over the next few years.  I do not look forward to burying my only son next to his father."  

"Do not worry, Mother.  Nothing will happen to me.  I guarantee you will not have to bury me."

"In that case, come down to the Great Hall.  NOW!"  With that, Madame de Brabant grabbed her son's left ear and pulled him to the door.

Monsieur Le Compte Nicholas de Brabant.  Ruler over the Fiefdom of Brabant, Papal Knight, Crusader of the Holy Cross, Defender of the True Faith, was twenty six years old, but with his mother tugging on his ear, he was a three year old once again. 

"Yes, mother."  He said in a small voice.

**********

Los Angeles.  Present

He took a deep breath.  "What's that intoxicating aroma?  Chocolate?"

"Buckeye candy.  I figured since I can't go to Columbus to get the real thing, I'd make my own.  Wanna help?"

"Buckeye candy?  But I thought Buckeyes were poisonous."

"Only to Wolverines.  Actually, Buckeye Candy is made with peanut butter and confectioner's sugar dipped in chocolate." She rolled a ball of the peanut butter and sugar mix, stuck a toothpick in it, and handed it to Nick.  "Now you dip it into the hot chocolate.  Very quickly so the peanut butter doesn't get all gooey.  Leave the top exposed.  Now put it on the cookie sheet to harden."

He did as he was told and soon they had several cookie sheets of chocolate Buckeyes.  Nick reached over to take one of the candies.

"My Grandma Scott always said they won't be good until tomorrow."  She said, gently slapping his wrist.  "Here, you can have this."  She handed him the now cooled chocolate pot.

"But it's empty."

She rolled her eyes.  "You've never licked the leavings out of a pan?"

"No.  In Brabant, we had a staff of servants who took care of the cooking.  In fact, my sister and I weren't even allowed in the kitchen when we were young.  When we were older, we only went in there in a supervisory capacity.  True, I learned to cook on the Crusades, but it was only to prepare the most basic foods."

"Your culinary skills really ARE sadly lacking, aren't they?"  She wiped her index finger around the inside of the pan and then stuck the dripping digit in Nick's mouth.

He savored the still warm chocolate.  There was an almost minute cut on Toni's finger. Without realizing it until it was too late, he had drawn a drop of blood from the wound. It was filled with a sweetness and innocence.  A hard knot formed in the pit of his stomach.    He fought to keep his fangs from dropping and his eyes from turning. The beast in him wanted more.  The vampire in him wanted it all.  "I'm sorry, Nata ... Toni.  I have to go."  He said, turning away from her, fighting to keep his dark side at bay.

"You still love her, don't you?  It's okay.  You're allowed.  I understand.  It's not like there's anything between us, after all."  She said as he bolted for the door.

**********

By the time he reached his apartment, his fangs were fully extended and his eyes were a glowing orange yellow.  He grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator, uncorked it and drank it in three swallows.  The blood slowly loosened his stomach muscles.  He could feel his fangs retracting and the red haze disappear from his sight.

"Hitting the sauce kinda heavy, aren't you, partner?"  A familiar voice said from behind him.

"Schanke?  Is that really you?"

"That's right.  It's really me.  Donald George Schanke.  In all my resplendent glory."  He extended his arms and turned full circle.  He was wearing a brown suit with a pink shirt and a sky blue tie with a Hawaiian hula girl on it.  "Is that any way to greet a partner?  Come here!"  He threw his arms around Nick in a bear hug.

"Schank.  About this."  He held up the bottle.  "It's ... "

"Blood.  I know.  I knew for sure what you were a coupla months before I died.  I had suspected it for a long time before that, but I didn't say anything.  I was hoping you'd tell me on your own."

"I ... ah ... "

"So you're a vampire.  What's the big whoop?  You're a vampire.  I'm Polish.  You weren't any different after I figured it out than you were before.  So like I said.  Big Whoop!  Now for the real reason I'm here.  I was minding my own business, you know, looking out for Myra and Jenny, when the Big Guy calls me and says you need someone to talk to.  So here I am.  Wadda ya say we cut right to the chase.  You're nuts about the Parker girl, aren't you?"

"We're just friends."

Schanke made a fist and pounded on Nick's forehead.  "Reality check.  Hello.  Anybody in there?  This is me.  Don Schanke.  Your partner.  Remember?  Let's try this again.  You really like her.  Right?"

"Sort of ... but ... "

"But you're still in love with Natalie, and you think that you'll be betraying that love if you let yourself care for Toni.  Right?"  Nick nodded imperceptibly.  "Look pal."  Schanke continued.  "You'll always love Natalie and she'll always be a part of you."  He placed his hand on Nick's chest.  "There's plenty of room in there for the both of them.  Don't you know that?"

"Maybe you're right, Schank.  I'll have to do a lot of thinking on it, though."

Schanke rapped on his forehead once again.  "Don't think.  Do.  Just go over there and bang on her door.  Then bang on her."

"Schank ... I can't do that ... The last time I ... "

"I know.  Natalie died.  You waited too long.  You kept your feelings, as well as the vampire, bottled up inside you.  When you finally did let it loose, it all came out at once and you couldn't control it.  In mortals it would be like premature ejaculation.  I know I'm being a bit graphic, but maybe if you take it slow and easy with Toni, it'll work out this time.  That way, you won't have to take so much of her blood to make the fireworks happen.  Get my drift?"

"I'll have to think about that, too."

"Good.  You do that.  But don't think too long.  Gotta go.  It's been great talking to you, but it's almost midnight in Toronto, and Myra and Jenny are getting ready to open their presents and I want to be there with them when they do.  I'll be checking in on you from time to time.  Just to see how you're doing.  Hasta la bye bye."  Schanke slowly faded from sight.

He still needed a present for Toni.  The he spotted it.  It was perfect.  She had admired it on several occasions when she was in his place before.  She would really appreciate it.  After all, she was an artist herself.  He took the signed Norman Rockwell original off the wall.  If you looked very closely at the painting, you could see that one of the faces in the crowd was Nick's.  Carefully, he wrapped it.

**********

Teressa Giovanetti came running down the hall.  "Fretta! Fretta! Venuto! E un miracolo! Alla chiesa! Ci e Sangue venendo de la croce!  Fretta! Venuto!"  She made the sign of the cross in front of Nick.  He winced and turned away.

"Does anybody know what she's talking about?"  Toni asked.  A throng of tenants had gathered in the corridor.

"I speak a little Italian."  Nick volunteered.  < After all, I lived in Venice during the Renaissance. >  "She says there is a miracle at the church.  She says there is blood dripping from the crucifix.  She wants us to go there with her."

"Venuto!"  Mrs. Giovanetti grabbed Nick by the arm and pulled him toward the door.  The crowd followed them.

**********

St. Ignatius Church was packed with worshippers who had remained after the early evening Mass to witness the 'miracle'.  Other parishioners were filing in at a rapid rate.  From the rear door, Toni, Nick and the others could plainly see that the crucifix hanging over the main altar was covered in blood. A steady stream of blood was also dripping on the cross from the ornate chandelier suspended above it.  A wave of terror overcame Nick and his knees started to buckle.  He grabbed the edge of the door for support.  Not only the cross, but the faith it represented was severely affecting him.  There was so much faith coming from the congregation that it we almost palpable. 

"Is there a way to get into the crawl space above the altar?"  Nick asked Father Ryan, the pastor, showing him his badge.  Father Ryan was standing at the door vainly attempting to staunch the growing tide of people entering the church

"Of course.  There's an access ladder in the sacristy.  Follow me."  Father Ryan started up the crowded main aisle toward the altar.  By sheer force of will, Nick followed the priest across the altar to the sacristy.  Toni stayed beside him the whole time.  Unnoticed by anyone, she had both arms firmly around his waist.  Several times he had to stop and wipe the red tinged sweat from his forehead.  At last, they were in the sacristy.  Nick asked that the door be shut.  That helped.  At least he was able to stand without assistance.  Father Ryan pulled the access door open and guided the ladder down.  Gingerly, Nick climbed up into the ceiling, hoping no one would notice his legs were shaking wildly.

The crawl space was the much same as any overhead crawl space.  Dark, musty, and filled with years of accumulated cobwebs and small animal droppings.  On his stomach, Nick crawled along the rafters, taking extra care to maintain his balance in the cramped space.  Every few feet, spikes poked through the ceiling.  These were anchored to the rafters and held the lights that illuminated the church below.  Shafts of light coming through the holes provided a small amount of light for the area.  As he approached the area directly above the altar, the terror returned.

At last he saw it.  On the spike that anchored the chandelier above the altar, a black cat lay impaled.  She must have been walking the rafter when she lost her balance and fell onto the spike.  From what Nick could tell, the spike must have punctures one or both lungs, and it was her blood that was dripping onto the cross.  Slowly, Nick inched to her.  The cat looked at him with pleading yellow green eyes.  There was no question she was mortally wounded.  Nick was surprised she was even still alive, let alone conscious, given the gravity of her wounds.  He took her head in his hands.  He had never tried to hypnotize a cat before.  He didn't even know if a cat could be hypnotized, but if it would make her last moments a little easier, it was worth the effort.  Immediately, he was aware of something else.  Her teats were engorged and clean and her belly was enormous.  He placed his hand on her distended abdomen and listened closely.  He could hear three tiny heartbeats.  He could also sense that the kittens were fully developed.  They would survive on their own.

"Don't worry, mama."  He said softly to her.  "I'll take good care of your babies.  You just relax.  It will be over soon."  She looked at him and mentally he heard the words 'Thank you'.  The cat drew one last deep breath.  Her pupils widened and she lay still.  She was dead.  Time was now of the essence.  Without the mother's life force to sustain them, the kittens would themselves be dead in a matter of minutes.  He rummaged through his pockets looking for a knife, a scissors, a key, or any other object he could improvise as a scalpel.  There was nothing.  It wouldn't have mattered anyway.  His hands were shaking too badly to hold it.  The only thing he had with a sharp point was ...

He closed his eyes and concentrated.  Slowly, he forced his fangs to elongate.  He sank them into the cat's belly and with one swift motion of his head, ripped open her abdomen.  Another swipe opened the uterus.  Gently, he lifted out the first kit and using his fangs again, slit the amniotic sack.  He shook off his jacket and rubbed and stroked the tiny creature until it let out its first tentative meow.  Seconds later, another kitten joined the first one in Nick's jacket.  Finally, he lifted the third one out.  This one was going to be trouble.  It refused to breathe.  Desperately, Nick searched his vampire perfect memory for the answer.  Then he remembered.  He didn't know where he remembered it from, and it didn't matter.  He knew it would work.  He rolled on his back and, holding the kitten by its back legs, swung it in a circle above his head.  After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, the kitten let out an ear piercing wail.  He placed it with the other siblings.

He removed his shirt and wiped the blood, both the cat's and his own, from his face and upper body.  He gently lifted the dead mother cat from the spike and lovingly wrapped her in the shirt.  Slowly, dragging his precious parcels with him, he inched his way toward the opening into the sacristy.

He climbed down the ladder cradling the dead cat in his bloody shirt.  "There's your miracle.  She was caught on the chandelier spike over the altar, and it was her blood that is on the cross."  He went back up the ladder and returned with the three kittens nestled in his jacket.  "This is the real miracle.  She was pregnant.  She lived long enough to make sure that her kittens would be brought into the world.  If they aren't fed soon though, they are going to be just as dead as their mother."

"My cat, Tinker, had kittens a week ago."  One of the female parishioners said, taking the jacket.  "I don't think she will mind nursing a few more.  I'll take them home right now."  She started for the door.  "By the way, Detective Knight.  Nice pecs."

"Confessions are Saturday before evening Mass."  Father Ryan chided as the woman left the sacristy.  "Although I do think you will need something to wear."  He said to Nick.   "I don't think it would be appropriate for you to leave the church bare chested.  I think I have some T-shirts left over from the summer festival.  I'm sure one of them will fit you.  They're over at the parish house.  You can wash up over there, too.  We can go out this way."  He pointed to a side door.  Nick was grateful that there was another exit from the church.  In the condition he was in, he doubted he would be able to traverse the altar again without considerable help.  "By the way. She's right.  Nice pecs."  Father Ryan said with a grin.

**********

Nick and Toni exited the parish house.  Father Ryan was right behind them.  Don't worry about the cat."  He told them.  "I'll see that she gets a decent burial.  There's a rose garden behind the sacristy with a statue of a crying angel in it.  I think that would be the perfect resting place for her.  As for the kittens, word has already spread among the parishioners and I'm sure when the time comes, we will have no trouble finding good homes for all of them."

"You have your work cut out for you if you want to have all that blood cleaned from the altar in time for Midnight Mass."  Nick said.

"I think I'll leave it there.  At least for the time being.  Even though there was a logical explanation for it, it was still a miracle.  I even have an idea how to work it into my homily.  Just as the mother cat shed her blood to see that her children would live, so too, Jesus Christ shed His blood so that we, as God's Children, would have eternal life.  What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me."  Toni approved.

Father Ryan placed his hand on Nick's head.  "Again, I want to thank you for all you did."  He traced the sign of the cross on Nick's forehead with his thumb.  "God bless you and I will remember you in my prayers at Mass tonight."

Nick winced as the pain seared into his skull. To spite the pain, it felt good.  He turned away so that the priest could not see the angry, red, cross shaped welt forming on his forehead.  "Thank you Father.  I need all the help I can get.  We have to be going now."

**********

La Croix was leaning against the fender of the Caddy.  "Really, Nicholas!"  He said with an exasperated sigh.   "Making a spectacle of yourself.  And twice in one night!  Aren't you in enough trouble over the incident at the department store?  Now this.  What AM I going to do with you?"

"Love me?"  Nick said with a silly boyish grin.

"NICHOLAS!"  LaCroix said sharply.  "I can overlook your actions this time.  But the T-shirt HAS to go!"

Oh, I don't know about that."  Toni said.  "I kinda like it.  I designed it, after all.  It's one of my better works, don't you think?"  Across the front of the shirt was emblazoned in purple 'I WAS BAPTIZED IN THE DUNK TANK AT ST. IGNATIUS '.   On the back was a cartoon depicting a man sitting on the water tank with a gold halo above his head.

"Let's all go home."  Nick said.  "After all that's happened tonight, I think we all need some quiet time.  That includes you too, LaCroix.  You're coming with us.  No argument."  He opened the door and folded back the front seat.  LaCroix motioned for Toni to get in the back.  Then he climbed into the passenger seat beside Nick.

**********

Hoiman was right behind them when they entered Nick's apartment.  There on the couch sat the pile of presents that he had bought.  He looked at the clock in the kitchen.  It read 12:05.  "Since technically this is now Christmas day, I suppose it would be all right if we exchanged gifts now."

Toni headed for the door.  "Don't start without me.  I'll be right back."  A few minutes later, she returned with two packages in her arms.  She handed the smaller one to Nick.  "You know you are the second hardest person in the world to buy for."  She handed the other one to LaCroix.  "You are the hardest."

Nick handed his presents to Toni and LaCroix. 

"Nicholas.  I do not know why you waste your money."  LaCroix said.  "You know I don't celebrate Christmas.  After all, there is no God.  And if there is no God, then it follows that there cannot be a Son of God.  Even if he were the son of a god, why would he choose to be born in a stable?  To a carpenter and his wife.  And a Jew at that.  You would think he would have the decency to at least be born a Roman." 

"I'm not going to argue theology with you.  Why don't we just call it a Happy Winter Solstice gift or happy whatever you do celebrate.  Now open your gift." 

LaCroix gave Nick a look as he took the jacket and put it on.  Nick wasn't sure whether it was a look of approval or rejection.  With him, it was hard to tell.  The jacket, of course, fit like it was custom made for him.  But then, everything that LaCroix wore looked like it had been custom made for him.  Most of his clothes were.

He opened Toni's gift.  It was an 8 x 10 portrait of him.  In the picture, he looked soft and gentle.  Almost fatherly.

"I drew it from memory."  She said.  "Sometime, I'd like you to pose for me."

"It would be a shame if I had to gouge your eyes out for this."   LaCroix said.  "I did that to the last artisan who captured my likeness."

"He's joking."  Toni asked.  "Isn't he?"

Nick shook his head no.

"Do not fret, Atonia."  LaCroix said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.  "You are in no danger of that.  It is not a socially acceptable practice in the civilized world anymore.   It is beautiful and I shall treasure it.  Unfortunately, I have no present for you, but I shall make it my highest priority to see that you receive one at the earliest possible moment."

"Open yours, Toni."  Nick said.

"After you open yours.  I want to see how you like it.  As I told you before, you are the second hardest person in the world to buy for."

"At least I came in first in something."  LaCroix chided.

It was a tooled kidskin wallet and a matching badge case.  In the corner of both pieces was NBK in gold foil.

"That's so you can't take them back."  Toni said as she ripped the paper off her gift.  She gasped.  "Nick!  It's ... It's ... The Rockwell!  ... I ... I can't ... It's yours ... He gave it to you himself."

"I want you to have it.  I will not take no for an answer."

She kissed him fully.  His fangs ached, but he forced the thoughts back into the farthest corner of his mind.  Now was not the time.

He went into the kitchen and returned with a tray with three glasses and a small bowl on it.  For Toni, some eggnog.  For himself, a protein shake heavily laced with chocolate, and for LaCroix, something red.  The really good stuff.  Direct from the After Sunset's private cellars.  He sat the bowl of milk on the floor in front of Hoiman, who was enthusiastically chasing his catnip filled ball all around the room.  As he seated himself on the couch beside Toni, the buzzer to the outside door sounded.

He pointed the remote at the monitor and pressed a button.  A new state of the art security system had been installed in the complex after the 'Pinocchio incident', courtesy of an 'anonymous benefactor'.  Larry Groce and his cohorts had twiddled and tinkered with his apartment until they had wired the entire apartment to one remote.  From the convenience of the couch, Nick could operate the shutters, the TV, the VCR, the door, the microwave, and almost every other electric appliance in the place

It was Nikki's face on the screen.  There were several people behind her.  He buzzed the outer door open and a few minutes later, the door to his apartment.  Nichole was the first one in.  She ran to Nick and practically leapt into his arms.  After smothering him with her kisses, she squirmed down and crawled onto LaCroix's lap and proceeded top do the same to him.  LaCroix gathered the child into his arms and to Nick, it seemed a most natural thing.

"Nikki.  What? ... How?  Don't you have an important case coming up on the 27th?"

"I did, but the prosecution asked for a six week continuance at the last minute.  It won't go to trial until sometime in February now.  So ... I called in a few favors, issued a few nasty threats, liberally greased a few palms, and managed to get two tickets on the redeye to LAX."

Toni squealed with delight and surprise as she recognized the people standing in the hallway.  "Mom!  Sherry! Ron! Jay! Nellie!"  She cried, pulling them all at once into a gang hug.  "I don't believe this!  You said that Columbus was snowed in.  How ... "

"So shoot me."  Robyn Parker said.  "I had to think of something to keep you from coming.  We have been planning this trip to surprise you for some time now.  When you wrote and said you were coming home for Christmas, I had to do some fast shuffling to keep you from getting on that plane and ruining our surprise.  We met Mrs. Hudson and her daughter when we boarded the flight in Columbus.  When she told us she was coming to visit your Nicholas, we all decided to come here at the same time."

< Your Nicholas? >  Nick thought.  He made a mental note to keep Robyn Parker very far away from Miriam Feldman and Teressa Giovanetti.

"Now then.  What are you going to do about a place to stay?  I converted my spare bedroom into an office and I don't think you are going to find any empty hotel rooms anywhere in Southern California."

"I told you we have been planning this trip for a long time.  We are going to stay right here.  I had the AAA contact the complex manager and make arrangements to rent the model apartment while we're here."  Robyn said.

"NICK!  You knew about this?  And you didn't say anything?"  Tony glared at him.

"I didn't know.  Not exactly.  I did get a call from the AAA about renting the model for a week, but they didn't say who it was for.  Since there was nothing in the Association regulations that said it couldn't be done, I let them have it."  He turned to Nikki.  "You two of course, will be staying here with me.  You can have the guest room."

LaCroix's face dropped for an instant and a sad look came into his eyes.  As quickly as it came, though, it was gone.  "Nicholas."  He said softly.

"Don't tell me.  You were planning to spend the night with me."

"Well ... I ... Ah .... "

"All right.  We'll do it this way.  LaCroix.  You can have your old room.  Nikki and Nicole will sleep in mine.  I'll sleep on the couch."

"That's all right. I can go to my apartment."

"No, it's not all right.  It's not every day ... or night ... that I have this much of my family under one roof.  Sleeping on the couch will not kill me."

Toni, Sheryl, and the rest of the Parker clan came out of Nick's kitchen.  Each was laden with bowls, plates and pans.  "While you two have been working out the sleeping arrangements, we have been cleaning out your refrigerator."  Toni explained.  "Between what we scrounged from you and what I've got at my place, I think we can put together a pretty good party."  They headed for the door.  Hoiman followed.  Where there was food, that's where he wanted to be.

Nicole climbed off LaCroix's lap.  "Let's party, Uncle LaCroix."  She said, tugging on his arm.  LaCroix patted the girl on the head.  "You go ahead.  I have something important to say to your Uncle Nicholas."

"Okay.  But don't be too long."  She hurried after the others.

"LaCroix.  If you think you are going to climb down my frame for anything, think again.  I'm in too good a mood."

Instead, LaCroix dug into his pocket.  "Here."  He said gruffly as he thrust the box into Nick's hand.  "Merry Christmas."

Gingerly, Nick opened the box.  For all he knew, it could have been a bomb.  He wouldn't put that past the ancient Roman.  It was a coffee mug.  On the front was a red heart with the message 'Sons are special people'.  Nick wiped a small tear from his eyes as he placed the mug on the counter.  "Thank you.  You don't know how much that means to me."

LaCroix put his hand on his son's shoulder.  "Now shall we join the festivities?"

Nick put his arm around his father.  "We shall."  He said with a wide smile on his face.

In the shadows, Natalie Lambert and Don Schanke looked at each other and grinned.  This was going to be a very Merry Christmas.

**********

The end

Are you kidding?