From: Dianne Therese De Sha "'*-._,_.-*'"'*-._,_.-*'"'*-._,_.-*'"'*-._,_.-*'"'*-._,_.-*'"'*-._,*- Jamais Vu (0/3) by Dianne T. DeSha Prefatory blithering: This is not the (or even "a") sequel to _My Soul to Take_, it's just a bit of random, what-if silliness that came to me in the wee hours of the morning... ...oh, O.K., so it was 9 p.m.--but I was _really_ tired! If you haven't read _MStT_, this might not make a lot of sense. (O.K., all you _busy_ people, just read the first two sections...you should be all right from there :-) Oh, and Maeve has already met both Janette and LaCroix by now--that happens in the sequel, which predates this story but isn't nearly finished yet (glaciers got nothin' on me! )...so you'll just have to take my word for it. (So there! ;-p) *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. This one was started several months ago for Heather (LtDarkstar), who kept sending me "pretty please"s inscribed on (virtual) chocolate poptarts. ;-) It was dragged down off the "not-quite-right" shelf and polished up in order to keep Cousin Candice from shorting out her computer by crying all over the keyboard too much. ;-) Belated, but still sincere, thanks to my beta readers who let me know what needed polishing. That I took eight or ten weeks to *do* so is...well...that's just me.... :-) Hope it kept o.k.! Jamais Vu (1/3) by Dianne T. DeSha "Nat!" Maeve burst back into the lab, startling her friend. "Come quickly. It's Nick; he's hurt...." Nat looked around for a moment, trying to think what first aid to take to an injured vampire: Blood? Much as she disliked the thought, she grabbed a few pints from the fridge and followed Maeve out the door at a run. "I felt him as soon as I stepped outside," Maeve explained in gasps as she ran. "But I had to hunt around to find him." As they burst out the back door of the Coroner's Office, Maeve steered her towards the thick bushes to the left of the door. "I'm afraid his neck is broken, but I can't get close enough to tell...." Nat pushed her way through the bushes where Maeve indicated and saw Nick lying crumpled on the ground. "Nick?" she touched his shoulder gently. Maeve was right, his neck _was_ bent at an awkward angle. Her hand went to his cold face, "Nick!" But there was no response. If he'd been lying here unconscious since he left them.... That was over an hour ago, she thought. No one would have seen him buried in the bushes like this; _she_ would have walked on past, unaware. She shuddered when she thought how he might have lain here, exposed, until the morning sun.... _Why_ didn't he wake up? "I think that new treatment of yours must need a warning label," Maeve commented, trying to sound casual: " 'Use caution when flying or operating heavy machinery.' " Looking at the pattern of the broken branches, she realized Maeve was right. He'd fallen from the sky. Damn it! She'd made him wait an hour after he'd taken the new drug so she could check for side effects. He'd _sworn_ he felt fine. Yet he'd barely made it out the door.... "He's not dead...I mean...," Maeve cursed mentally at the awkward words, before realizing Nat would know what she meant. "He'd be _ash_ then," she insisted, trying to reassure them both. "Right," Nat said forcefully, giving up on her attempt to find a heartbeat--she didn't have time for that. "He _can't_ be dead. We've got to get him inside, but I can't carry him myself." She looked up at Maeve, who threw her hands up in frustration, "Don't look at me! I'll go get a gurney." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. It had been at least 30 minutes and Nick still hadn't regained consciousness. As far as Nat could tell, his neck hadn't quite broken, but several vertebrae had cracked. What disturbed her most was the slowness with which even the gouges on his arms from the fall through the hedge were healing. She had already given him a transfusion, and was debating another out of sheer desperation, when his eyelids fluttered and he moved to sit up. Nat quickly put a hand on his chest to keep him still. "Not so fast, Nick. Talk to me." "Watch out, Nat!" Maeve warned. Nat frowned at her, but knew she was right. After such an injury, and even after a transfusion, he could be dangerous until he was fully conscious. But he blinked in silence for a minute, his eyes a reassuring blue, then focused slowly on her face, "Nat?" She smiled in relief. "It's all right," she assured him, while intercepting his attempt to rise again. "You took a really bad fall, but I've given you a transfusion and you're going to be fine." After checking him over carefully and finding his spine apparently fully healed, Nat allowed him to sit up on the table. He swayed slightly as he did so and had to grab the edge of the table to steady himself, but he smiled bravely at Nat and she let him be. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. As Nick held on tightly to the edge of the table to maintain his balance, he smiled at the woman next to him, trying not to show how strangely his mind was still spinning. He fought down nausea. The redhead had called her "Nat," and the name sounded somehow familiar; he was sure he would be able to place her in a moment. She had called him, "Nick" --a name that also seemed right, if not very helpful. "Red", however, he couldn't place at all. Seeing her watching him strangely, he decided he'd just have to ask. "Sorry," Nick gave her an embarrassed little smile, "But I don't seem to remember your name...." "Whoa," Maeve looked at Natalie. "He must have hit his head harder than we thought." Sighing, she turned to Nick. "I'm Maeve," she reminded him gently. "Oh yes, of course!" Nick said, not altogether convincingly. "You're Nat's friend. Nice to finally meet you!" he enthused, offering his hand. Maeve stared at it like something she had just found moving in the back of the refrigerator. After a moment, Nick let his hand slowly drop with a confused look. Nat's expression was growing more concerned--even if he didn't remember who Maeve was, it should have been readily apparent to him _what_ she was. "Nick," she spoke slowly and carefully, "Maeve's a _witch_." Nick looked somewhat startled and glanced back and forth between the two women a few times. "O.K.," he responded just as slowly. "So, she doesn't shake hands?" "Not with a _vampire_, I don't" Maeve hissed quietly. There were times when Nick didn't act all that bright, but this was ridiculous. Nick blinked at her for a moment, looked back to find Nat's expression unchanged, then back at Maeve. "Oh. _Right._ I see," he said in a tone he usually reserved for addressing the earnest citizens who arrived at the station requesting advice on how to protect themselves from alien mind rays. "It's because I'm a _vampire_." Nat was about to jump in when she realized Maeve had gone quite pale. "I'm leaving now," her friend said abruptly, standing up and stepping back a few feet. "You'll have to deal with _this_ on your own, Nat." "Wait a minute! Maeve!" With a fierce stare at Nick, Nat followed her out into the hall and caught her at the first corner. "What do you mean I'm on my own? I could use a little help here!" she said angrily. "And I prefer to keep my soul," Maeve snapped back, her fear evident. "He doesn't remember, Nat. He doesn't _know_! I _told_ him, revealed his secret...." her voice was shaking. "That's ridiculous! How can you betray him to himself?" Nat demanded. Maeve took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Gives a whole new slant to 'no excuses,' doesn't it?" Her voice was under better control, although she was still pale. "I _felt_ it start to happen, Nat. The only thing that saved me is that he doesn't believe it." "So _I'll_ tell him, convince him," Nat countered. "Once he remembers, or at least believes, you'll be safe." Maeve shook her head and started to protest, but Nat cut her off. "You just be there, for _me_." It was unfair, but she was desperate. She could see Maeve start to relent, so she continued, "Don't say anything, don't do anything, just _be_ there, O.K.?" *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nick watched as the two women returned to the lab. The strange one, "Maeve," walked directly to the desk chair, where she sat down with her back turned. "Nat," however, returned to his side. "Nick, how much do you remember about your life?" she asked cautiously. "Well it _was_ a little fuzzy there for a minute, but it's all coming back to me now." He was pleased to see Nat look relieved. Even Maeve ruined her facade of disinterest by turning her head ever so slightly to hear the conversation better. He smiled at Nat and felt a pleasant rush of emotion as she returned the smile. "My name is Nick Knight. I'm a homicide detective with the city of Toronto." He paused, but Nat waited for him to continue. He felt kind of silly reciting his life history like this, but she had obviously been _very_ concerned.... "I was born in Chicago, New Year's Day, 1958...." He trailed off as he saw Nat's face fall. He remembered it all! So what was wrong? "And _before_ that?" Nat asked, with fading hope. "Before...?" he looked perplexed for a moment. "Oh, before Toronto? I was on the Chicago force. I started out there." To his dismay, Nat just stared at him like she was waiting to be given the punch line of the joke. "What?" he finally demanded. "Nick," Nat paused. There was really no 'good' way to put something like this. "You are a vampire. You're 800 years old. You want to be human again. We're _trying_, but...." She shook her head in despair. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Uh, oh, Nick thought. _Where_ was he? He looked around at the tile walls, linoleum floor, and clinical decor. Had he landed in some sort of mental institution? Best to play along, he decided, at least until you know what's going on. "O.K." he agreed. "She's a witch, I'm a vampire, and you're...a werewolf?" he finished tentatively, not wishing to offend. He heard a loud, quickly muffled snicker from the figure sitting on the far side of the room. The woman in front of him simply stared at him for a long moment. Then she, too, broke out in a slightly-forced sounding laugh. "All right, you got us," she admitted. "It was just a little joke." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Maeve spin around quite suddenly, but when he looked over at her, she had plastered a half-hearted smile on her face. "It's almost morning," Nat continued. "Maeve can take you home; I _don't_ want you driving." When Maeve started to protest the arrangement, Nat turned to her, "I _want_ to run some tests. Please?" Taking Maeve's lack of further protest as consent, Nat returned her attention to Nick. "Do you mind waiting in the Caddie? I think you left it out front." He reached in his pocket and found a set of car keys as she continued, "I just want to speak with Maeve for a moment. _Girl talk,_" she insisted when he started to object. He nodded and left with an almost steady stride. After she sensed that he was beyond earshot even for him, Maeve turned on Nat, " 'Girl talk'?" she questioned in disbelief. "Nat, _what_ are you doing?" "He can't tell what you are, he doesn't know what _he_ is. Maybe this is a good thing? Maybe it's part of the cure?" Nat trailed off as Maeve looked at her as though she'd lost her mind. "Well, you heard," she admitted. "I can't convince him, so why not let him enjoy being a mortal for a while?" "Because, he's _not_ a mortal, Nat!" "He'll remember that soon enough. I want to check the sample I took when we brought him in; I have to see what's happened. Maeve, this could be _it_! Just let it be for a little while, O.K.?" she pleaded. "But _I_ can't take care of him," insisted Maeve with a panicked look in her eye. "What if something happens?" "Nothing's going to happen," Nat insisted. "I'm just asking you to drive him home. You've driven with him before, for heaven's sake!" "This is different and you _know_ it!" Maeve barely kept from shouting at her. "You have to tell him!" "Please, " Nat pleaded. "In eight hundred years he hasn't been able to forget what he is. I can't be the one to take that away from him. Not yet." As Maeve started to object she hurried on, "Let him have that for just a little while longer. For my sake, _please_?" Nat was playing dirty and they both knew it, but Maeve also knew how much Nick meant to her. Nat was worried and excited and...and her best friend. Damn it! How did she get herself into these things? "It's a mistake, Nat," Maeve insisted one last time. When her friend only returned her stare in silence, Maeve rolled her eyes in resignation. "You're just lucky I _can't_ tell him," she growled. "Thank you," Nat called after her, but Maeve just waved her off This whole thing gave her a very bad feeling. That feeling was not improved by what she saw when she exited the building. The sun had already edged above the horizon--she hadn't realized it was so late. She hurried forward, but her eyes went wide when she saw Nick sitting calmly in the passenger seat, protected only by the rapidly shrinking shadow of the building itself. "Nick!" she shouted in disbelief. He turned to her with an annoyed look on his face. "What took so long?" he asked irritably. "I'm tired; I want to go home." "Nick, the _sun_!" But he only stared at her with an odd look. Damn! She didn't have time to fetch Natalie to talk some sense into him--wait, he believed his current life history, right? "Remember your 'skin condition'?" she urged. "You _have_ to stay out of the sun!" At least he seemed to be listening to her. "We could put the top up?" he suggested hesitantly. "The _trunk_, Nick." Argh! She was getting mighty tired of that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look of his. "_Get_- _in_-_the_-_trunk_, *now*!" she snapped at him, enunciating every word very clearly. "You're _kidding_...," he insisted. There just wasn't time for this. Nat, I _told_ you this was a bad idea, she muttered to herself. _Her_ eyes were going to start glowing in a minute if he wouldn't listen to sense. "Any exposure to the sun and you will burn, _badly_," she stressed that understatement emphatically while just managing to keep from shouting at him. "You could _die_!" _Permanently_, she added to herself. Just then the sunlight crept close enough to touch his little finger where it rested on the front seat. Jerking his hand back in pain and surprise, he climbed into the trunk without further protest. "Geez, Nat. He's got no _clue_!" Maeve muttered to herself as she slid into the driver's seat. "If he decides to stick his head out and sightsee along the way, I'm _not_ going to be responsible," she insisted to no one in particular. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "You guys really take your practical jokes too seriously," Nick complained, looking in his fridge. "What did you do with all the food?" "You want to eat food?" Maeve asked with genuine interest, quickly closing the window blinds. "As opposed to eating _what_?" Nick snapped. "Oh, right--I forgot. 'Ha, ha.' " he finished mirthlessly. Maeve rolled her eyes--how had she gotten roped into vampire baby-sitting duty? "You know," Nick reconsidered, his voice sounding slightly distant. "I'm so hungry I think I probably _could_...." "I thought you were tired? So go to bed." Maeve tried to change the subject. Nick's blood-drinking angst was hard enough to take in light of his vampirism. She didn't relish the thought of hearing his thoughts upon believing himself a blood-drinking _human_. To her relief, he closed the refrigerator door and returned to the living room. "You're right," he agreed, heading sleepily for the stairs. "But can't you open the blinds a bit? It's like a dungeon in here." "So turn on more lights," she countered, confiscating the remote as soon as his back was to her. "Sleep well. Nat will be by later." He nodded at her as he disappeared into the bedroom. Maeve turned to go, her duty more than done. But at the door, she paused. If anything happened to him in his current state of 'blissful ignorance,' Nat would be devastated. With a sigh she turned back and settled down on the couch. Just until Nat showed, she thought. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nat pushed herself away from the microscope with a disappointed sigh. After hours of searching, running every test she could think of, she was certain. Nothing had changed. Nick was obviously weak, but it had nothing to do with returning humanity; the vampire traces in his blood were just as strong as ever. She'd apparently only succeeded in making him a _weak_ vampire. Oh well, she thought. That probably explained his reaction to the fall--even his apparent case of amnesia. She was glad she had let him enjoy it; at the rate even a weak vampire recovered he should remember what he really was soon enough. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nick walked quietly down the stairs, past the sleeping form on the couch. He'd slept most of the day away and was determined not to just stay here helpless. He should get back to the station, his shift was due to start pretty soon. Besides, he thought, looking over at the couch again, he didn't quite trust this "Maeve." Something seemed just a bit off with her, he'd feel better at the station with other _normal_ people. As long as he kept the top up on the Caddie, he was sure he'd be fine.... *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Maeve sat bolt upright as she heard the howl of pain from downstairs. Rushing to follow the sound, she found Nick leaning against the wall of the garage, just out of reach of the late afternoon sunlight that poured in through the open door. He was staring in shock at his left arm, which was blistered and steaming. Maeve groaned as she hit the switch to close the garage door, remembering just why she'd always hated baby-sitting. "Didn't believe me, did you?" She deserved the dirty look he gave her for that one, she supposed, but she didn't care. "Come back upstairs, it'll be dark soon." Not soon enough, she thought as she retreated up the stairs, listening until she heard him start to follow. Where on earth was Nat? *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Damn! Nat still didn't answer at work or at home. Grace thought she had headed home a while ago, but wasn't sure. Maeve slammed down the phone in disgust. Pulling out the remote, she opened the blinds to reveal the darkening sky. She stepped over and opened a window. It really got stuffy in here by nightfall, she thought distractedly as she tried to decide what to do. Nat could be stuck in traffic, running errands, on an emergency call Grace hadn't heard--there was no way to tell _when_ she'd arrive. Maeve decided she couldn't wait anymore. She looked over at Nick, who'd fallen asleep on the couch before he could notice how fast his arm was healing. What was she supposed to tell him when he woke up? The situation was getting out of hand and her presence was getting more dangerous by the moment, yet she couldn't just leave him like this--who knows _what_ he'd decide to try next. She picked up the phone and withdrew a matchbook from her jeans pocket. If she couldn't give him a clue, she'd get someone who could. Miklos approached her with the phone. "A woman who insists on speaking with _you_." Janette turned her attention away from the dancers, giving the bartender an annoyed look. " 'A woman' ?" she asked. "_What_ woman?" "She won't say," Janette started to wave him away impatiently as he continued, "Only that it's about Nicholas." She sighed and closed her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" she muttered in an exasperated tone as she reached for the receiver. "Bon soir." "Janette?" the voice on the other end was unfamiliar. "Yes?" she responded, impatiently tapping her fingers on the surface of the bar. "Who is this?" "Maeve," came the short and unhelpful answer. "Maeve?" Janette repeated after a moment's pause. "I don't know any...." "The _witch_," the voice interrupted rudely. "Ah, I see," Janette responded in a particularly unpleasant tone. "I doubt it," she heard the witch respond with even less tact. Before she could answer in kind, Janette found herself listening to an outrageous tale. Nichola _forgetting_ what he was? "Impossible! This is some sort of trick." "You know better than that, Janette," the annoying voice contradicted her. "If I brought you any harm by trickery you know the price I'd pay. I'm not fool enough to play around with my soul like that!" Janette's sly comment on the intelligence level of witches in general was interrupted by a hiss in her ear, "Damn it, Janette! He needs help I can't give him. Get over here to the loft, now!" She flinched away from the sound of the receiver crashing down, delicately returning her own to its cradle. Temper, temper! Janette thought with a smile. So very _human_. But her amusement at the witch's expense faded quickly, and she frowned. For several hours she had sensed that Nichola was troubled, but it had not seemed serious. She had chalked it up to one of his endless, meaningless problems with his mortals. But if what the witch said was true.... _Someone_ should at least check on him, she agreed. But she was not interested in risking whatever might remain of her own soul if she could avoid it. Janette smiled and picked up the phone again, dialing from her perfect memory. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Slamming the receiver down and muttering a few choice words of her own on the subject of vampires in general and haughty female vampires in particular, Maeve jumped when the phone rang under her hand. She picked it up automatically and was relieved to finally hear Nat on the other end. "An incredible tie-up on the D.V.P. and now my tire's blown! A _new_ tire, too," Nat protested. "I'm only about half a mile away, can you come pick me up?" Maeve looked over at Nick, who was sound asleep on the couch. "Sure," she agreed. Anything to get out of this mess, she thought to herself as she took down the directions, reassured Nat that Nick was alright--if still clueless--hung up, and headed out the door. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. As she elevator doors closed behind her, a figure entered effortlessly though the open window and landed soundlessly next to the couch. "Hello, Nicholas." Nick jumped at the sound of the velvet voice directly behind him. Spinning around he demanded, "Who the hell are you?" "Is that any way to speak to your _father_," LaCroix asked in mock dismay. "Jeff," Nick muttered automatically. LaCroix frowned at the non-sequitur. "I beg your pardon?" My father's name was Jeffrey Knight, but he died years ago...," Nick shook his head in confusion. LaCroix stared at his pr moment with just the slightest hint of real concern in his eyes. Then shook it off, deciding not to dignify such nonsense with a response. "Are you not hungry? You should feed," he said moving towards the kitchen. "A little drink, perhaps?" he suggested with a disconcerting smile. Nick shook his head; he had a feeling he should know this person.... Seeing the man--his father?--reaching for the refrigerator door he choked. How was he going to explain the contents? Sure it was just a joke, but it still _looked_ pretty sick.... "There's nothing in there worth drinking," he said quickly, grimacing as he remembered how hungry he must have been to even have considered...for only a moment.... He was surprised when his visitor laughed aloud, "So, you've finally come to your senses and given up on that _swill_ you've been drinking? Excellent! Let us hunt then." Hunt? In the middle of the city, in the middle of the night? Was _everybody_ he knew slightly off? ...maybe _more_ than "slightly"? "I thought maybe we could just run by the market," Nick suggested tentatively. (Why couldn't he remember any markets nearby?) "Pick up a couple of things...?" His visitor stared at him blankly for just a moment, then with a movement almost too fast to follow, he had lifted Nick up by the shoulders and was holding him inches from a terrifying face. Nick could have sworn his heartbeat and breathing stopped entirely as he looked into a fanged snarl and glowing red eyes. Then the monstrous face hissed at him, "You, Nicholas, are a _vampire_ and no idiotic charade will ever change that!" Before he could react, Nick felt his stomach drop out from under him as the vampire lifted him bodily out through the open window and high into the night. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. As Maeve drove into the alley, two figures became visible, facing each other through the lighted windows of the loft. When she saw the second form, buried memory resurfaced in Nat's consciousness. "That's LaCroix," she practically shouted at Maeve. "He's got Nick!" As they reached the loft, Maeve slammed on the brakes and leapt out of the car, followed closely by Nat. But Maeve suddenly stopped, clutching at the car door for support. "What's wrong?" Nat asked impatiently. Maeve shook her head as though trying to clear it, "Nothing...deja vu." She straightened up and started towards the loft--just in time to see the blur as the two figures rose straight up into the night sky until they were just a shadow in the air above the mortals' heads. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. The paralysis of sheer terror kept Nick from speaking the fervent pleas aloud, but the monster before him responded as though he had read Nick's mind. "I killed you three-quarters of a millennium ago," he sneered. "Why should I want to do it again?" As LaCroix's grip on him loosened, Nick found himself clinging tighter to his tormentor in sheer terror. But his captor only laughed, "Forgotten how to fly, have you?" He smiled wickedly, displaying all his teeth, "Time then to kick the fledgling out of the nest." And with an effortless movement he detached Nick's grip, then released his own. Drifting alone in the sky, LaCroix noted that the terrified scream faded only slightly with increasing distance. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nat clutched Maeve's arm as the two strained to see the two specks high in the air above them. Suddenly one became clearer and clearer as a scream shattered the night. "No!" Nat shouted as Maeve dragged her backwards and out of danger. The sound as he hit was awful. Maeve turned away quickly, swallowing hard to keep her stomach from a violent and embarrassing reaction. When she managed to turn around, Nat was already on her knees at Nick's side. As she approached, Maeve could see that he was alive, conscious even. From his and Nat's reaction Nick even seemed to have remembered who--and what--he was. She winced nonetheless--vampire or not a fall like that has _got_ to hurt. LaCroix had landed silently a few yards away with a look of slight surprise on his face. When Nat caught sight of him all her fear and anger rose to her face as fury. "You could have broken his _neck_," she snarled at the ancient vampire. LaCroix conceded the possibility with a bare shrug. "I did expect him to come to his senses rather sooner," he admitted. "I thought people who fell from a great height were supposed to die of a heart attack--of sheer terror--before they hit the ground?" Maeve countered. Glancing over at her for the first time, he looked away again with an expression that clearly indicated that he considered her beneath notice. "Ah, but he doesn't need much of a heartbeat, now does he?" he answered, looking at Nick. The sound of dismissal that constituted Maeve's response was overlaid by Nick's own angry accusation, "You just couldn't leave me in peace, could you?" "Nicholas, my child," LaCroix replied with a nerve- wracking smile. "You know that I am _always_ here to remind you of what you truly are. "Although doing so _usually_ doesn't require a major blow to the head," he added in annoyance. "I suppose I have you to thank for my tire, as well?" Nat asked, but LaCroix ignored her to move closer to Nick. Before he could say anything more, Nick struggled to sit up. "Go away!" he demanded. "Get out of here and leave me alone!" His master gave an exaggerated sigh of long-suffering patience, "Very well, if you insist...." "I _do_!" LaCroix shook his head in mock sadness, "Au revoir, then my child. Until next time...." And he was gone. Nick was brought back to the situation at hand by Nat's anxious poking and prodding as she attempted to determine the extent of the damage. "I think that arm's broken...." "I'll be fine, Nat," he assured her. "I just need a chance to recover, that's all." As he started to rise, Nat placed a hand on his chest and Maeve surprised them all with a loud "No!" When they both looked at her, Maeve assumed an air of long-suffering patience. _All_ they needed now was to have him fall *again*. "No, don't move," she repeated. "Just stay there. _I'll_ get the blood."