From v4s@FKFANFIC.COMSat Feb 1 00:44:15 1997 Date: Sat, 1 Feb 1997 00:27:14 -0500 From: Virtual Fourth Season To: FKFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU Subject: V4S: A Taste of Rebellion (1/8) Episode Number: Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season - Episode #6 Episode Title: "A Taste of Rebellion" "Air" Date: January 30, 1997 Author: Libby Singleton Alpha Readers: blitherer2@aol.com, Julia Kocich , kieft bryan william , Patrick McLaughlin Beta Readers: Sara Orel , Amy Volpert , Sandra Gray, Beth Washington, Stephanie Babbitt, Bast, StormyNite Historical Verification Group: Sara Orel, Elizabeth Ann Lewis Continuity: Sarah Baker , Amanda Sridasome, Eileen Salmas Part 1 of 8 The Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season is a project whereby a group of Forever Knight fans are putting together a series of stories continuing from where Last Knight left off. Participation is open to all. For more information, write to V4S@fkfanfic.com. Comments should be sent to the author or to the FKV4S-L mailing list. This story will be available in its entirety as of 2/3/97 by writing to V4S06@fkfanfic.com, or from . This story is based on characters and situations created by James Parriott and Barney Cohen and owned by Sony/TriStar. No infringement is intended. Copyright 1997 Elizabeth Ann (Libby) Singleton -------------------------- A TASTE OF REBELLION As was his routine, LaCroix landed in the alley beside the CERK radio station and approached the door on foot. He mentally ran through a few ideas for the night's opening monologue -- all merely fleeting thoughts immediately dismissed, yet he was not worried or nervous in the slightest. A topic would come to him. Something always did. The sound of three beating hearts caused him to pause before turning from the alley to the sidewalk. This was an unusual occurrence. Normally at this time of night, these streets were deserted. Perhaps they were homeless individuals hoping for a handout from station employees. "Wonder what he looks like?" a voice said. "His picture's so dark you can't tell. Why didn't they pick a better one?" "That's because he's the mysterious Nightcrawler, stupid!" "Whose soul is as dark and mysterious as the night itself, dear listeners... " The attempt at imitation caused the three to dissolve into a round of high-pitched giggling, a sound which had not changed in at least 2000 years. These were girls on the edge of adolescence, certainly too young to be out unsupervised at this hour, and too quick witted to be common, uneducated street waifs. No doubt the three were up to mischief of one kind or another. Stepping onto the sidewalk, LaCroix saw his assumptions were correct. These children were certainly no older than twelve or thirteen, perhaps a year or so younger. "Are you ladies in need of assistance?" he asked. As if they'd rehearsed, all three girls spun around in unison, mouths gaping. The freckled, red-haired girl covered her mouth and squealed with recognition. The pony- tailed blond gave her a sideways kick to the foot. "You're overdoing it!" she whispered softly. The third, a black girl with shoulder length hair, several inches taller than the others, was holding a photograph. She took a few steps towards him. "Excuse me, sir...you're the Nightcrawler, aren't you?" Stepping out of the building's shadow, LaCroix responded, "Yes, my dear, I am indeed the Nightcrawler." Smiling, she seemed to relax. "I'm Tammy. Brittany, Sandra and I, we were wondering if you would autograph this picture to us. You know, like add our names and everything, please sir." LaCroix considered her a moment. This girl had charm, a good deal of it. She'd soon be blossoming into a young lady with no lack of beauty. He took the picture she was holding. "I'm afraid I do not have anything with which to sign." "Oh..." Tammy's face fell. "Maybe one of my friends has a pen." "That is well and fine, but wouldn't you rather come into the studio? Perhaps I can find photographs for all three of you, after you've called your parents to arrange for transportation home," LaCroix said, enjoying their sudden looks of panic. "The night holds many dangers." "Don't make me call my dad. I'm having a sleep over and we, uhr...uhr..." She fell silent, looking back at her friends for help. None was forthcoming. "Go on," he said, using his firmest tone. The girls were beginning to squirm. A few moments more and they'd be fleeing. "We...we climbed out the window to come down here. My dad will kill me if he finds out!" "Really? That be terrible..." The sound of a speeding vehicle interrupted LaCroix's speech. It was traveling much too fast and not at all in a straight path. He turned to investigate. The bright headlights temporarily blinded eyes meant to see best in the dark of night. The lack of vision prevented him from seeing the position of the power lines and street lights, making flight impossible even without the three potential witnesses. The vehicle's impact threw LaCroix against Tammy, his arms folding around the girl. He felt bones in his back and right hip shatter when he landed on the curb. His own body had shielded Tammy's, though he heard the slush of brain smashing against skull when her head hit the concrete. The two fair-skinned girls' heartbeats were silent. No doubt the two were crushed beneath the wheels of the van when it crashed through the doors of CERK's main entrance. A figure squirmed from the van's wreckage and stumbled across the street. LaCroix squinted, his sight still too foggy to see clearly. However, even at this distance, he could smell alcohol and hear the strange rhythm to the driver's racing heartbeat. With the figure out of hearing range, attention turned to the girl he'd protected. Tammy was most definitely alive, though her breathing seemed labored. Blood dripped from her nose and ears, coating his hands. His body cried out to feed so his own healing would go more quickly. He fought the urge back. At his age and power, he'd heal well enough on his own. Yet he raised a finger to his mouth to sample, to taste the life of the child he cradled. Amazing. **** Nick Knight's focus kept drifting to LaCroix who sat, leaning against the building away from the chaos, his coat pulled tightly around him. Nick knew LaCroix's instincts called for him to seek shelter so the sun would not catch him in a weakened state. The coat helped calm the urge, giving the illusion of protection. Nick could sense his broken bones, the internal bleeding and torn muscles. Despite vampiric abilities, LaCroix's injuries were severe enough that it'd probably take him a day to heal completely. Were LaCroix mortal, he'd be dead. Adam Sakai stopped a passing paramedic. "You sure he's okay?" Adam asked, pointing at LaCroix. "Looks like death warmed over to me." "He...doesn't need medical attention," the woman said slowly. "Just needs to rest a moment." Nick could tell she'd been hypnotized. In fact, after glancing around for a quick visual survey, he noticed all the medical workers were wandering around in a daze. "I've seen people walk away from worse," he commented. "Just wanted to make sure the hero of the hour is treated right..." Adam fell quiet as Joe Reese approached. "That may be, but LaCroix's also the reason those girls were out here in the first place," Reese said. "If I hadn't noticed his damn picture missing from Tammy's bedroom door, I wouldn't have figured out where they'd gone. Then there'd be three Jane Does here while I paced the floor waiting for Tammy to come home." He wearily rubbed his eyes with one hand, sighing deeply as if he were choking back a sob. "Still gotta call the other parents...damn. Listen, Nick, Adam, I'm sure you'll be reporting to someone else about this case. Treat it no differently from any other." Nick reached out, clamping his hand on Reese's shoulder. "Thanks, both of you. There's nobody Denise and I would rather have working on this case," Reese said. "One of the uniforms is driving me to the hospital. I'll give the office a call when I know more." "We'll be waiting," Nick said, standing beside his partner as they watched their Captain walk away. He could hear that Reese's calm exterior was hiding the rapid pulse of panic. "Must be tough driving up on a scene like this, finding out one of the kids is yours," Adam whispered. "Yeah." Nick glanced at LaCroix. Though his eyes were shut, Nick could tell he was restless and increasingly uncomfortable. "Looks like they're about to get the bodies free," Adam commented. Nick nodded. "Why don't you check it out. I'll go try to talk to LaCroix again, maybe he'll remember something if his head's cleared a bit." "You always take the fun parts." "Experience has its privileges," Nick replied. LaCroix opened his eyes when Nick knelt down beside him. He touched his master's hand lightly, trying not to let the smell of Tammy's blood on LaCroix's body and clothing faze him. Bad enough the shock of the painful impact strengthened their link, a constant reminder of his vampirism. "Do you think you can stand now? You'd be more comfortable in the Caddy." "I would be more comfortable back in my own home, away from these medics and their continuing efforts to poke and pry. Hypnotism is proving more exhausting than my injuries," LaCroix said. "However, sitting in your automobile would be an improvement over wet concrete." After making sure the crowd's attention was focused on the wreckage, Nick lifted LaCroix up until he was standing. The older vampire grimaced slightly, shifting most of his weight against his son's body. LaCroix's right leg was almost useless. In a less public situation, Nick would have carried him if allowed. "Are you sure this doesn't have anything to do with the threats against the Nightcrawler?" Nick asked. He knew the radio personality had received various death threats over the years, all handled quietly by the station. "I assure you, Nicholas, the driver was merely an intoxicated fool," LaCroix said. "The odor was obvious. There was also an odd beat to his heart, a barely audible echo. I doubt your law enforcement friends would take kindly to using that fact for identification purposes." "The van hasn't been reported as stolen, so for now, the owner's our suspect." Nick helped LaCroix ease down into the car. "You'll be called in for a line up. You don't have to admit you're using the heartbeat. It isn't unusual for a victim's memory to be jogged when they see the suspect again." "Odd, hearing being called 'a victim'," LaCroix chuckled weakly. "The real victims are those girls," Nick said. "Yes. A moment of rebellion gone astray, as it were." >>>>>>>>>>>>>> The forest spread for miles below Nicholas. The heavy mist encircled the trees, making the forest darker than normal. His hunt was becoming frustrating as his hunger grew by the minute. It rather embarrassed him that LaCroix still provided many of his meals while Janette seemed quite adept at the art of finding prey, even when victims were scarce. The sound of a heartbeat filled his ears. Definitely a human. But where? Remembering to focus his senses, he landed, pausing to listen while he tested the air for the scent of blood. Nicholas smiled broadly when he honed in on the direction from whence the odor traveled. The woman was huddled in the hollow of an ancient tree, a cloak tightly wrapped around her. When he touched her, she awoke with a start, trying to scoot even further into the tree. "Are you lost?" he asked, smiling pleasantly so as not to frighten her further. LaCroix had recently instructed him on the pleasures of playing with his food. "Oh, yes. I'm new here and thought I'd explore a little. Darkness came so quickly." Her eyes were large and brown, brimming with tears. The hair which strayed from beneath her hood was deep black. She shivered. "My home isn't far," Nicholas said, helping her from her haven. She was younger than he'd first thought, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. Her blood carried the smell of roses, something his master would enjoy. He would surprise LaCroix by bringing him a meal. "Come and rest by my fire a moment. Perhaps Janette, my sister, has dry clothes you may wear." "Please, just direct me toward the town," she said tearfully. "My family is no doubt frantic about my whereabouts." Staring straight into her eyes, Nicholas said soothingly, "You will come with me." An odd, confused look passed over the girl's face before she answered. "Your offer is kind, but I really must return home." It was now Nicholas' turn to be puzzled. Hypnotism was the simplest of his powers to master. "You wandered far astray. These woods are not safe at night. I promise to escort you home at first light on horseback." Resigned, the girl nodded her agreement. "I bow to your wisdom, kind sir." "Please call me Nicholas." She smiled. "I am Ines." After giving her his own cloak for warmth, they walked the half mile to LaCroix's current dwelling. Nicholas was disappointed to sense neither his master nor Janette were present. His hunger was beginning to gnaw. He was unsure he could postpone feeding much longer. "Please enter," he said, opening the door for her. Once inside, he removed both cloaks from around her shoulders, then tossed them onto nearby chair. "Your hair is most beautiful," he said, still behind her. He pulled the dark strands away to glimpse her pale neck. She took a few steps forward, turning to face him as her heart rate increased. "Don't touch me in that manner, I beg you." No longer able to fight back the vampiric urges, Nicholas felt his fangs beginning to descend. Once again, he gazed deeply into her eyes, knowing his own were beginning to glow yellow. "Don't be afraid," he said. "There will be no pain, only pleasure." Ines backed away until her back was pressed against the wall. Nicholas reached out, gliding his fingers lightly down her neck. Though he did not break eye contact, she still struggled, making it difficult to correctly gage where he should bite. "I don't know what kind of beast you are, but please do not harm me!" she pleaded. "I am to be the wife of a returning Crusader. That is why my family has traveled to this town. We have received word he is to arrive within the month!" Nicholas raised his head in mid-strike, his hunger suddenly lessening. With all his strengths could he not wait to see what manner of feast LaCroix would bring? If fate, in the form of Janette, had not intervened, he'd have returned to his home and would now be searching for a wife. Cradling Ines's chin in his hand, to make sure her gaze did not stray, he stated forcefully, "You must forget all that has happened here..." "No, how could..." "You !" "I...must...forget," she whispered. "Leave quickly, before the others return," Nicholas urged, retrieving her cloak. Giving her his as well would be too dangerous. LaCroix would recognize it. "There is a path behind the stables. It will lead you to a farm several miles away. Do not stop until you reach it." "I...will...not...stop." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (to be continued ...) -------------------------------------------- For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@fkfanfic.com. From v4s@FKFANFIC.COMSat Feb 1 00:44:21 1997 Date: Sat, 1 Feb 1997 00:27:28 -0500 From: Virtual Fourth Season To: FKFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU Subject: V4S: A Taste of Rebellion (2/8) Episode Number: Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season - Episode #6 Episode Title: "A Taste of Rebellion" "Air" Date: January 30, 1997 Author: Libby Singleton Part 2 of 8 This story is based on characters and situations created by James Parriott and Barney Cohen and owned by Sony/TriStar. No infringement is intended. Copyright 1997 Elizabeth Ann (Libby) Singleton -------------------------- A TASTE OF REBELLION "Nick? Nick Knight..." "I believe your partner wishes to speak with you, Detective Knight," LaCroix said. "Huh?" Nick looked behind him to find Adam grinning in delight. "You'll have to excuse Nick, he likes to zone out into Never Never Land every hour or so," Adam said. "Where little lost boys never grow up," LaCriox quipped. "I hate to interrupt your fun," Nick said. "But can you drive the Captain's car back to the station, Adam? I told La...Mr. LaCroix I could drop him off." "Sure, though I suppose you'll want me to start the paperwork." Nick shut the passenger door and walked around the Caddy. "Wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled. **** Adam thumbed through LaCroix's folder. The man had been cleared of any wrong-doing the previous year when the decapitated body of an Egyptian national was found in the Raven's beer fridge. Some of the officers told him Reese was quite sure LaCroix had been guilty of something, but not one shred of evidence could be found linking him to the crime. Further searches through police files for incidents at the Raven turned up a number of strange occurrences. A shooting a few years before when Nick had been in the club off-duty. Last year, a mentally disabled man had caused a disturbance, threatening customers with glass from a broken bottle. Nothing seemed even remotely related to the wreck, the girls, or Lucien LaCroix. However, Adam regretted not visiting the Raven while it was still open. Seemed like an interesting place. There were also death threats. In one case, they'd been traced to a caller unhappy with the Nightcrawler's trademark sarcastic answer to her problem. The management of CERK had reported the call and assisted in the investigation. LaCroix refused to provide a statement, insisting the entire investigation was "a folly." The woman was currently receiving treatment in a mental hospital. There were mentions of other instances of threats, some on- air. However, the same could be said for many celebrities, especially those who seemed bent on pissing people off. "Any luck?" Looking up, Adam found Natalie Lambert sitting on the edge of Nick's desk. "Not much. Seems to be a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time...unless you've found something." Nat shook her head. "The girls' deaths were most certainly caused by sudden, massive trauma. Not surprising considering they were run over by a van." She handed him a folder. "I was on my way to meet Thomas for a late lunch. Thought I'd swing the preliminary report by and see if you've heard anything thing from Captain Reese." "Not yet," Adam said. "Hard to wait, you know," Natalie sighed. "Gotta agree with you there," Adam said. "I was hoping to have something to say when Reese does call. What about the van? Find anything?" "Fingerprints and hair samples. Enough to keep you busy interviewing suspects for a while. What I wanted was blood. Not a trace." "I've put out an APB for the van's owner." Adam thumbed through the mass of paper on his desk until he found the right report. "A Simon Grogan. Social Services has his teenage son. The kid says his dad did come home, but was gone again by the time the uniforms got there. Has no idea where he went. Simon's got quite an arrest record for drunk driving and public intoxication." "That would explain a lot, though he must've been wearing his seatbelt or I'd have my blood sample," Natalie commented. "Alcohol relaxes the body, which is why so many drunks walk away unharmed from wrecks." "Which doesn't explain how LaCroix did. Kept refusing to allow the medics to get anywhere near him, claiming he was just shaken up. Weird." Natalie shrugged. "Nick's not back, maybe he swung LaCroix by the hospital." "Nah. Called in and booked off for the rest of the shift." "Let me guess, he's taking care of a sick friend," Natalie said sarcastically. "Nope. Said he wasn't feeling well. You don't look like you believe him." "Uh, of course I do," Natalie said quickly. "I...I just know what a big Nightcrawler fan he is." "Nick, skip work to hang out with a radio talk show host? Can't see it." "You'd be surprised," Natalie muttered as she looked at her watch. "I'm going to miss Thomas if I don't hurry." "See you later," Adam said. Turning toward his computer screen, he saw Tammy Reese's face instead of the information he'd accessed. She'd been in the office early one evening a week or so before to show off a softball trophy she'd been awarded. He swivelled back to the mass of paper and folders on his desk, stacking them neatly. All he could think about was the two page essay about her father's job Captain Reese had hanging on his office wall. Poor kid. **** Joe Reese's coffee was long cold. He sipped it anyway. Anything to avoid looking into the eyes of the doctor sitting across from him and Denise. His wife reached over, squeezing his hand. "Dear, are you hearing any of this?" "Yeah, I'm listening." Denise seemed to be finding the situation much easier to handle. Sure, she'd cried, more than he could do, but also was able to focus better when the doctors came in. Although he could head a precinct, making tough decisions every day, he couldn't face the fact his daughter was now a victim. "Mr. Reese, this is a painful situation for any parent," the doctor said. Looking up, Reese realized this woman was the same doctor who'd taken care of Nick when he'd been shot in the head. The detective had miraculously recovered. A bit of hope tugged at his thoughts. "I'm okay, just tired," he said. "So you're saying she'll live." "I'm afraid we really can't say for sure. She's certainly holding her own, that's something. Each hour she lives gives us that much more reason to hope. I wish we could be more specific. Head injuries are tricky things. We'll know more in a day or two," the doctor explained. "Thank you for everything you're doing for Tammy, Doctor," Denise said, tears streaming down her face. "I wish it could be more." "Damn," Reese said after the physician left. "Can't believe all this is happening. If I hadn't been so damned busy at work, I could've nipped it in the bud." "Nipped what, Joe?" "Tammy's foolishness! I told her not to listen to that radio show. Nothing but trash, and she's too young anyway." Reese stood and started to pace. "A year ago she never tried to sneak behind my back. Now she argues about everything from her clothes to what movies she can see! What happened to her?'" Denise embraced him, kissing him gently on the lips. "Tammy's growing up, Joe. Becoming a young lady with thoughts and opinions of her own." "Don't you think this is a bit beyond that, Denise? This is exactly why I didn't want her listening to the Nightcrawler! Been putting ideas in her head..." Pulling out of his arms, Denise glared at him sharply. "How can you say that? How can you blame this on anyone but the person who did this? If this Nightcrawler hadn't saved Tammy, she'd be in the morgue with her friends. Imagine how their parents are feeling tonight. They don't have a child in intensive care worry about!" Husband and wife stared at each other momentarily. "Denise...you're right." She smiled through her tears, the same beautiful expression she'd worn when a small baby girl had been placed in her arms nearly twelve years before. "I'm sorry, Joe." She took the cup from his hand. "You shouldn't be drinking coffee." "Now listen, Denise..." "I guess just this once won't hurt. At least let me go get you some that's hot." "I'll go," he offered. "No, please. I need to get away from here for a moment. Collect my thoughts. You call your office. I'm sure they're waiting for news." Joe kissed his wife again. "Okay. Don't forget my cream, this stuff is worse than what I get at work." (to be continued ...) -------------------------------------------- For more information or to participate in the Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season, write to V4S@fkfanfic.com. From v4s@FKFANFIC.COMSat Feb 1 00:44:27 1997 Date: Sat, 1 Feb 1997 00:27:38 -0500 From: Virtual Fourth Season To: FKFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU Subject: V4S: A Taste of Rebellion (3/8) Episode Number: Forever Knight Virtual 4th Season - Episode #6 Episode Title: "A Taste of Rebellion" "Air" Date: January 30, 1997 Author: Libby Singleton Part 3 of 8 This story is based on characters and situations created by James Parriott and Barney Cohen and owned by Sony/TriStar. No infringement is intended. Copyright 1997 Elizabeth Ann (Libby) Singleton -------------------------- A TASTE OF REBELLION Though the cow's blood tasted worse than usual, LaCroix forced himself to drink it for what little strength it would provide. Nicholas had felt it best he spend the remainder of the night at the loft in case he needed anything. In previous centuries, his son would be expected to bring mortals to him when he could not hunt for himself. These days he had to lower himself to consume what tasted like vinegar. LaCroix had fallen asleep immediately on being helped to bed, a rare occurrence for him during the night. When he awoke, there was a bottle and glass by the bed, a dressing gown within reach, and no Nicholas. Despite a lingering stiffness in his right leg and hip, his injuries were healed. He decided to take his meal downstairs. After starting a fire, he sank into his favorite of Nicholas' furnishings; a black leather covered, overstuffed chair. He glared at the Crusader's sword resting on the mantel, then into the fire, angry he did not have the strength to fly to his own abode before dawn. LaCroix did not like feeling helpless. "Returning from your play session in the mortal world so soon?" LaCroix said. There was no reason to look up. He knew his son's presence. "You could at least use the skylight instead of the elevator." "I brought you a change of clothes and bottle from your own stock." LaCroix looked up in surprise, accepting the bottle from his son's outstretched hand. He questioned Nicholas with a glance. "The human blood will aid your recovery," Nicholas replied. "True. I'm glad to see you have not lost your judgment. This is an exquisite vintage. Will you join me?" LaCroix asked. "No, thanks. I fed earlier," Nicholas said quickly, laying the clothing neatly on the sofa. "At least I can share some