Date: Fri, 11 Feb 2000 

This is the fourth story in my silly series.  It follows "LaCroix's Lament."
I own none of the characters.  I just thought I'd make a little
light-hearted fun of them.  That's all.  No harm intended.  Thanks to Stormy
for beta-reading the last story as well as the grammar help from Penny.
Anyone who cares to may archive.  Adult innuendo, but I don't think it's any
worse than some of the soaps, er, I mean "daytime dramas."  

Please send feedback to Elise at ejdeal@sga.quik.com.


General Mischief, Part 1 of 3
By Elise

     Natalie stared in disbelief as Nick sat beside her offering eternal
life as his immortal bride.  The angelic smile surrounding his sharp, white
fangs seemed a visual oxymoron and brought a nervous giggle to her lips.
"Are you sure, Nick?" she whispered.  "Once done, there's no going back."
     Nick's smile widened.  "But there is, Nat," he reminded her.  "The cure
you developed."
     "I'd almost forgotten.  As soon as our bags come in, I'll get started
on a double dose of the serum."
      "One for each of us," he told her.  Gently, he wrapped his arms around
her and pulled her closer.  "Ready?"  He nuzzled her throat, kissing and
tasting her soft flesh.
      Natalie had spent the past two years dreaming of this very moment, the
moment when Nick would make love to her, claim her, take her as his wife.
Just two days ago they were wed, and now he was ready to bring her over.
     Suddenly she was overwhelmed by fear.  What would it feel like to die?
What would it be like to fight the bloodlust?  To live in the dark, never to
see the light of day?  Natalie shivered and tried to push away from Nick.
     "No fear, my love," Nick cooed to her.  He lay Natalie back on the bed
and began to unbutton her blouse.  "Fear nothing, sweet Natalie," he
murmured.  "I shall be with you."
     "But, Nick," Nat cried, struggling to sit back up, "you haven't exactly
had a lot of success with bringing someone across."  Valiantly, she tried to
keep her thoughts coherent.  His touch and her own raging hormones were
making that terribly difficult at the moment.  "Maybe we should get another
vampire to help, to make sure everything goes okay."
     Nick growled deeply in his throat.  He had her blouse open and, using
his fangs, snapped her bra in two.  Grinning wildly, he sat up, her bra in
his mouth and with a shake of his head, flung it across the room.
     Natalie's voice raised in pitch.  "Like maybe that nice Aristotle. I'm
sure he could help. Oh my!"  She was unable to voice her last thought
because Nick was scraping his fangs across her breasts, drawing twin beads
of blood.
      "Relax, my love," Nick said with the beast's voice.  Hungrily, he
lapped the blood.  Then with a sudden flurry of vampiric speed, he'd
undressed himself.
      With a gasp of pleasure, Natalie saw him unclothed. He was beautiful,
and she couldn't stop herself from touching him.  "Nick," she sighed softly.
      His mouth answered her cry, and for a long time they kissed deeply.
Natalie ran her hands through his blond curls and touched his body as she
had so longed to do.  Nick grinned and continued using his fangs to tear her
clothing to bits.
     "Are you a vampire or a werewolf?" she teased him.  He did, in fact,
resemble a puppy intent on shredding the Sunday paper.
     When the last of her clothing had been duly ripped away, Nick began to
pleasure her body.

                         *     *     *
      LaCroix had just finished cleaning the apartment.  It was spic and
span, and he was rather proud of himself.  It was after ten o'clock, and the
General was getting ready to turn in.  He found he was rather tired.
      After showering he found the one pair of pajamas Janette had sent and
donned them. He sighed in disgust realizing how many things he would need as
a mortal.  Worst, it meant he would have to do the marketing for himself.
Grabbing a pen and notepad he found on the bedside table, LaCroix began a
list of items he would need.
     The doorbell rang jolting him from his task.  Who can that be at this
hour?  LaCroix searched momentarily for his bathrobe but was unable to
locate it.  "Janette probably did not pack it on purpose just as she forgot
my toothbrush," he muttered aloud.  "I am coming.  I am coming," he warned
the insistent doorbell ringer.
     Remembering Natalie's warnings, LaCroix peeped through the security
hole and saw his old friend, Aristotle.  Hurriedly, he opened the door to
admit the vampire and offered him a seat on the couch.  "What brings you to
my door at this hour of the night?" LaCroix asked bluntly.
     "I have here your necessary documents to secure you a teaching
position."  He held out a large manila envelope. "You should report to Dr.
Bradley at Gilbert Elementary School tomorrow morning at 8:00A.M."
     "Why can I not continue with my radio show?" he demanded.
     Aristotle frowned and nodded to himself.  "As the station belongs to
you and is considered part of your vampire assets, you may not benefit from
its use.  I am sorry."  Again, he held out the envelope.
     Lucien LaCroix took the proffered envelope and nodded his head. "And
my fortune?" he inquired.
     Aristotle pulled his lips into a tight line.  "I'm sorry, old friend.
I've had no luck in that department yet.  I am to leave tonight at midnight
to set the matter before the High Council."  He stood abruptly.  "I'll call
as soon as I hear anything."  He paused, considering something.  Then coming
to a decision, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills.
"Here are a few dollars.  This should help you make ends meet until the end
of the month when you receive your first paycheck."
     Shaking the older man's hand, LaCroix lead his guest to the door.
"When" - he emphasized the word - "I return to my vampire state, I shall
remember your kindness.  Good night."  Lucien LaCroix slowly shut and locked
the door behind his friend and headed to bed.  Tomorrow was likely to be a
long day.

                          *     *     *

     Nick had timed it perfectly.  Both he and Nat achieved their climax
simultaneously.  With an unearthly roar, he threw back his head and plunged
his razor sharp fangs into her jugular vein.  Her sweet, rich blood pulsed
forth into his mouth, and he cried with joy as he tasted the love she felt
for him.
     Her pounding heart began to slow and her labored breathing became gasps
as she fought to maintain her oxygen.  Forcing himself to withdraw himself
from her body, Nick sat up and slashed his own wrist, holding it to her
mouth.  "Drink, Natalie.  Drink and join me, my love," he urged.
     As Natalie managed to swallow the first drops, an overwhelming craving
for the red stuff, brimming with life, quickly engulfed her.  Grasping his
arm, Natalie held on tightly and sucked.  Suddenly, she needed, wanted,
craved, yearned for the sweet, bright blood filled with his love for her.
     "That is enough for now," Nick said as he pulled his arm away.  He
rubbed the wrist idly while watching her intently.  She was beautiful, and
now she was forever his.
      The full curves of her body were now alabaster and perfect.  Her
chestnut curls, gleaming in the meager light, were soft and silky.   A
strawberry colored tongue peeped out from behind her rosy lips to lick away
the stray drops of his blood.  He was utterly entranced by the sight of her.
     Slowly, Natalie opened her eyes and looked with passion darkened eyes
at her husband.  Her mouth parted to reveal sharp, curving fangs, which
matched the softer curves of her body.  Reaching out a hand to him, Natalie
pulled him back down to the bed beside her.  "Make love to me, Nick," she
commanded.
     Nick grinned wickedly.  "As you wish, my wife," he growled in return.

                           *     *     *

     Nick rolled over and stared bleary eyed at the clock.  It was seven in
the morning.  He couldn't believe it.  Natalie had kept him making love all
night - except for those few minutes when Miklos had brought over a case of
the Raven's finest vintage.
      A newborn vampire, like all newborns, needed frequent feedings. Nick
intended that Nat become the same moral sort of vampire as he was, but he
also had to concede the fact that her first meal needed to be human.  He
didn't want her to become a carouche.
     "Nick?" she called out from somewhere in the tangled sheets.
     "Yes," he answered softly with a smile.
     Natalie's head popped through an opening in the sheet somewhere near
his knee.  "Make love to me," she demanded.
     Nick grinned and rubbed his chest with masculine pride.  "I think I've
created a monster."  He flopped back against the pillows.  "You do realize
we've been at this since nine last night?"
     "Yep," Nat said.  She began kissing his knees.
     "You know it's after sunrise?"
     "Yep."  She held his knees in place and began kissing her way up his
thighs.
     Nick wiggled a bit in distress.  He wasn't sure just how much he could
handle.  Even a vampire's strength had its limits.  Quickly, he captured her
hands and pulled her up and away from her obvious destination.  "Wouldn't
you rather have a nice breakfast?"  He held up a new, unopened bottle.
"Then a catnap?"
     "Breakfast sounds good.  You take the bottle, and I'll take a drink
from your femoral artery."
     Nick popped the cork and took a long drink from the bottle.  "Femoral
artery?  Where's that?"
     Natalie grinned wickedly.  "You'll see."   Then she disappeared under
the covers.
     "Oh, Natalie!" Nick moaned aloud.  His modern medical education was
just beginning.

                            *     *     *

     The alarm clock blared at 6:30 A.M. nearly scaring LaCroix to death.
Bolting out of the bed, he shut off the clock and began to prepare for his
first day at work.  Work, he thought acidly, is simply another four letter
word.
     Entering the cab, LaCroix directed the driver to take him to 101
Gateway.  It was 7:20 A.M., and LaCroix intended to borrow the Caddy for the
day.  Nick would never even know it was gone.  Besides, the General only had
the few dollars from Aristotle.  He couldn't afford to ride in a cab to work
every day.
     LaCroix paid the cabbie and opened the garage doors.  He removed the
spare key from its holder near the lift doors, and just as he inserted the
key into the lock, an odd sound drifted to his ears.  No longer possessing
the acute senses of the vampire, LaCroix couldn't quite place the noise. It
sounded a great deal like the caterwauling of two cats in heat. "Well, at
least Sydney has found a friend," he muttered.  Then quietly he slipped
behind the wheel and drove to the address Aristotle had given him.

                         *     *     *

     Dr. Bradley, principal of Gilbert Elementary School, was a short,
chunky, balding man.  LaCroix towered over him by nearly a foot, but much to
General's surprise, the little man shook hands with gusto.
     "We certainly are glad to have a man with your credentials teaching in
our schools," Dr. Bradley told LaCroix as he pumped his arm
enthusiastically.  "It's not often we have men interested in elementary
grades.  I was pleasantly surprised when your application and resume crossed
my desk."  He let go of LaCroix's nearly numb arm. Gesturing to the door, he
led the former Master Vampire out into the hallway.  "Yes, sir, and it was
such perfect timing, too.   Mrs. Zolkwoski, whom you'll be replacing, is out
on maternity leave."  He looked up at LaCroix.  "Triplets! Can you believe
it?"  He chuckled and shook his head.
     LaCroix looked around with a growing sense of dread and irritation.
Noisy children, herded by their staring teachers, swarmed around them as
they navigated the hall.  Even to his mortal sense of smell, the place had a
strange aroma.  It smelled vaguely of cleaning fluid, crayons, and hot
grease.  The little man in front of him was chattering away in a most
annoying manner.
     "Here's the room now."  He stopped in front of a gaily colored door, on
which was a large cardboard tree cut-out.  Arranged around the top of the
tree were twenty red apple cut-outs, each bearing the name of a child.
"This will be Mrs. Zolkowski's last day.  You spend it with her getting to
know the children and how things work around here, okay?"  Dr. Bradley
reached to open the classroom door but suddenly stopped.  "Oh, and your
Mentor teacher will be Mrs. Tawney next door.  You'll meet her at lunch."
     When Dr. Bradley opened the door and pushed him through it, LaCroix
felt the same sense of impending doom he had felt the night Vesuvius
erupted.  Twenty-one pairs of eyes swiveled in their direction.  Then the
whispered muttering began.
     "Is he going to be our new teacher?"
     "He looks mean."
     "Why is he dressed all in black?"
     "I don't like his haircut."
     "Class!"  Mrs. Zolkowski bellowed loudly.  "Is that how we act when we
have a guest?"
     "No, Ma'am," the class intoned respectfully if not enthusiastically.
     "Well, I guess I'll leave you two alone," Dr. Bradley said as he ducked
out of the door and headed back to the relative safety of the front office.
LaCroix smiled weakly.  Now he knew how Custer must have felt at Little Big
Horn.

                               *     *     *

     Nick winced with pain as he glanced at the clock.  It read 8:27 A.M.
Natalie had attacked him twice more since seven.  Quietly, he eased from the
bed.  He certainly didn't want to disturb her much needed rest.  She was,
after all, still a newborn, and newborns of all kinds needed sleep and
frequent feedings.  Well, she'd had enough blood, his blood, last night.
That was for sure.
     Grinning with masculine pride, he smiled down at his new bride and ran
a hand gingerly across his body.  It was covered with numerous bites,
punctures, scratches, and bruises.  How many times had they made love in the
past twelve hours?  He was unable to remember the exact count, but he was
sure they had set a new record.
     He snagged a bottle from the crate and pulled the stopper as he headed
into the bathroom.  That's what he needed, a hot shower and a full bottle.
Nick adjusted the temperature and spray before stepping into the steamy
water.  Then he settled himself on the bottom of the tub, allowing the spray
to hit him squarely in the chest, before taking a long draught of the blood.
Closing his eyes, he slumped back against the wall.
     Barely five minutes had passed before Nick felt the spray stop.  He
opened his eyes to find Natalie standing over him.  The water slid down and
around her body in a sensual caress.  Her hair was tangled and wild looking
as the humidity caused her curls to riot.  Her eyes were a bright yellow,
the color of sunlight, and her fangs practically curled over her full bottom
lip.
     "What a delicious idea, Nick," she said.  "I've always imagined taking
a shower with you."  Slowly, she settled to the floor of the tub, straddling
his thighs.
     "You should be resting, Nat," he told her.  "You're still a newborn."
Can't I get five minutes rest?  He thought to himself.
     Natalie settled herself upon him.  "I am resting.  See, I'm sitting,"
she pointed out wickedly.
     Nick's eyes closed briefly, and when they opened, they were the vampire
yellow, too.  She was resting all right.  "Nat," he groaned as she sat more
firmly and pressed down.  "You're insatiable.  I don't think I can satisfy
you," he complained in a half-joking manner.
     "Then you rest.  Doctor's orders," she told him with a grin.  "Let me
do all the work."
     Having no choice in the matter, Nick lay back as he was instructed.
His last coherent thought was to wonder whether it was possible to be sexed
to death.

                            *     *     *

     "Children, this is Mr. LaCroix.  He will be your new teacher while I am
away," Mrs. Zolkowski explained.
     There was no reply from the children.  They seemed, to LaCroix, to
stare at him with malevolent intent.
     "Now, you're going to finish those friendly letters you've been
working.  When you're done, you should read your library book."  Mrs.
Zolkowski turned to LaCroix and gestured for him to pull up a chair. When
he had done so, she began to explain to him the daily operations of the
class.
     "If you have any problems, just ask Mrs. Tawney next door.  She's been
teaching for more than thirty years, so if she can't answer your question, I
don't suppose there is an answer."
     "Excuse me, Mr. LaCroix?"  A sturdy little girl with great big brown
eyes and long brown braids was standing at LaCroix's elbow.
     The General was startled and jumped.   How did the little thing move so
quickly and quietly?
     "Yes, Jenny, what is it?"  Mrs. Zolkowski asked.
     "I drew a picture to welcome, Mr. LaCroix to our class," she said,
holding out a large sheet of notebook paper.
     LaCroix took the offered paper and lay it on the desk before him. It
featured a tall stick figured dressed all in black.  The stick-man had short
cropped blond hair and was surrounded by dozens of smaller smiling stick
figures.  It wasn't a very flattering likeness, but the General smiled and
took it in the spirit in which it was offered.
     "Thank you very much, Miss....."
     "Schanke," Mrs. Zolkowski supplied.
     LaCroix nodded his thanks and turned to the freckled face before him.
"Thank you very much, Miss Schanke.  I appreciate your thoughtfulness."
     Jenny Schanke smiled a gape-toothed grin and skipped back to her seat.

End of Part 1