Date: Sun, 21 May 2000 23:50:57 EDT The usual disclaimers apply... I don't own 'em... if I did, I would have treated them much better!!!!!!! Archive it with the rest of the story!!! And now, with no further ado.... Previously on 'The days of our Un-lives' or 'Guiding Darkness' or whatever the heck we're calling this one....... LaCroix and Natalie have met in the personal hygiene section of Wal-Mart. Each are selecting products that they'd prefer the other not know about.... ****** Part 2 Karen Gunther Not being one to shrink from any occasion, no matter how unpleasant, LaCroix nodded at Natalie in acknowledgment. "Good evening, Doctor," he said simply, hoping that she would flee quickly. That it was the time that she needed the products in question was painfully apparent to his sensitive nose. The aroma was tantalizing to say the least. "Hello, LaCroix," she said, hurriedly stuffing the pink cardboard box under a towel that she'd grabbed before going to the hygiene aisle. One never knew when you'd encounter an acquaintance, and she'd developed the habit of buying towels when buying feminine hygiene products. Her collection of towels was quite varied, and extensive as a result. If she saw people, it was usually other cops, or friends from university. Not master vampires. Somehow, she'd never pictured him as a Wal-Mart shopper. "Fancy meeting you here," she said inanely, hoping that the floor would swallow her up. "Indeed." Seeing the products that filled his cart, she smiled sarcastically, "you know, if you quit smoking, you wouldn't have that problem." "I *don't* smoke, Doctor," he replied sternly, pushing his cart forward, determined to get away before either of them said something they'd regret. "Yeah, sure," she began doubtfully. Truthfully though, while she had seen Janette smoke, she had never seen LaCroix smoke, nor did his clothing have the smell of residual tobacco. But that did not mean that he was not ingesting nicotine in other ways... and the result would be the same. She'd seen enough smokers cross her table to know what it did to teeth. "Nicotine does terrible things doesn't it?" "Tell me about it," he agreed, relieved that she was not pressing him further. Otherwise, he might have to comment on *her* product selection... and what other methods she could use to take care of that particular problem. "You know, there are alternative, more permanent ways to deal with stained teeth," she said in a serious, professional voice. "Permanent?" he questioned. "Yes, permanent. Have you been to a dentist?" "Not recently," he replied, thinking back to his last dental visit some forty years previous. It had not gone well. He'd gone for precisely this reason, wanting to get the nicotine stain off his teeth. The Kansas City police department had never solved that rash of disappearances of dentists. He'd not been back to one since. "Define recent," she demanded. Recent to her was a month or two. With her immortal friends, it was likely a century or so. "I think it was in the late 50s." "Well, dental techniques have improved immensely since then. Bonding would brighten that, umm, smile... and who knows, you might enjoy it." "And why, pray tell, would I enjoy it?" He looked at her skeptically. "All I know is that Nick comes back from the dentist with a real goofy grin..." she said, shrugging carelessly. "He says it feels good. And I don't think he means simply having clean teeth." With an evil looking smile, she scribbled a name on a scrap of paper and handed it to him. "Here's the name and phone number of his dentist. I won't say anything if you don't." "Certainly, doctor," he agreed, leaning closer. He had noticed how she hid the box under other purchases. "Not that I need to tell him anything. I'm sure he already knows what time of the month it is." Nodding at her shocked expression, he pushed his cart away and continued as far from the hygiene section as possible. Now, where could he go that she would not follow? Ah, sporting goods... *********