Sat, 12 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: ejdeal@sga.quik.com General Mischief, Part 3 of 3 By Elise LaCroix parked the Caddy in Natalie's parking place. It was after five, and as there was no hope of getting it back to the loft before his son awoke, he didn't bother trying. Heaving the load of packages up the stairs, he wondered what Nick would say when he found the Caddy missing. Perhaps he should call to say he would return it later that evening. Dumping his purchases on the couch, he picked up the phone and dialed the loft. It rang five times before Nick picked up. His son sounded strangely out of breath. "H'lo?" Nick gasped into the phone. LaCroix could hear feminine giggles in the background. Natalie no doubt. "Nicholas, I borrowed the Cadillac and have been unable to return the vehicle. As soon as.." "Fine," Nick told him in a muffled voice. The General heard some very strange sounds. There were grunts, groans, and weird humming noises. It sounded as if Nicholas and Natalie were moving furniture around the loft. "Bye." The phone clattered down. No sooner had LaCroix set his own telephone down when the doorbell rang. Peeping through the security hole, LaCroix spied a delivery boy. Carefully, he opened the door, mindful to keep the security chain in place, and looked out. "Yes?" he asked suspiciously. The boy pointed to four large suitcases on a cart beside him. "Delivery for a Dr. N. Lambert. Suitcases." "Just a moment," LaCroix smiled. Shutting the door momentarily and removing the chain, the General swung the door open wide and smiled at the fellow. "I am Dr. Nicholas Lambert," he said suavely. He eyed the cases before him possessively. "Sign here." While he did so, the boy unloaded the cases from the cart. When the boy had gone with his little pad and pen in hand, LaCroix hauled the luggage inside and bolted the door behind him. Like a mad Grinch, he ripped into the bags. Natalie's lessons on neatness were completely forgotten as he ransacked the contents of each bag in a frenzy to locate his prize. There they were, Natalie's disks with the formula for curing vampirism. He held them aloft, a dark gleam in his eye. Then he dashed for her computer, hastening to delve into their secrets. Lucien LaCroix was no doctor, but he had learned a few things in the past two thousand years. Chemistry was, in fact, one of his favorite subjects, but he could not understand one iota of the information on her disk. Savagely, he snapped off the computer and snatched the disk from the machine. The machine whined down to silence, and LaCroix sat brooding for a long while. Finally, hungry and irritable, he dragged himself into the kitchen and began preparing his evening meal. The ringing telephone startled him out of his reverie. "Yes?" he asked as he stirred the spaghetti sauce. "LaCroix? It's Aristotle. I have good news for you. The Council has agreed that you may keep your fortune. I am removing the freeze on your assets even as we speak." LaCroix heard in the background the chiming beep of a computer. "I'll check on you again when I get back to town. Goodnight." The General set the phone back in its cradle and returned to his tomato sauce. Vaguely, he wondered what Lucy was having for dinner, and the thought bothered him. * * * "What happened to you?" gasped Schanke. Shoes in hand, his partner had practically run out of the loft and thrown himself into Schanke's car. Nick was half dressed, his hair was still wet and uncombed, and his eyes were blood-shot beyond recognition. "Drive, Schanke," Nick ordered breathlessly. "Just drive." He turned and leaned out of the window to smile, wave, and blow kisses at a pale figure standing at the window. Schanke craned his head from the driver's side window to get a better look at the figure, and what he saw scared him. Gulping, he pulled his head quickly back inside the car. "Uh, Nick, was that Natalie standing at the window?" "Yeah," Nick admitted and slumped into the seat. Schanke took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. "That wild-haired, half-naked creature at the window?" He was sweating again. Reaching down to put on his shoes, Nick muttered, "Uh huh." Schanke jerked his head to the side and gulped. "Is that why you asked me to call you tonight?" "Yep." Nick leaned his head back against the head rest and closed his eyes. "Jeez Louise!" There was a long, awkward pause. "So, where you want to go?" "I don't care," Nick told him. "Anywhere I can get some sleep." * * * LaCroix smiled to himself as he drove towards the loft. He had the perfect plan in mind. First, he would offer the diskette with its cure to Nicholas and Natalie in exchange for a promise to find a way back across. Next, he would also play on Nicholas' over exaggerated sense of guilt and have them adopt little Lucy, assuring that the child would have a proper home. Natalie had said the cure had been created from dead vampire cells, and that it would make the recipient immune to that virus. Surely, though, she could find living cells that were strong enough to overcome the dead ones. Then he would be able to return to his rightful place as a master vampire. After he had parked the car next to Natalie's, the General entered the elevator and ascended to the loft. "Nicholas? Natalie?" he called out. The loft was dark, and LaCroix stumbled over some large, bulky object on the floor. Cursing on account of his bruised shin, LaCroix switched on the light. "A crate from the Raven?" he muttered to himself. "This is not like my son." Then loudly, he called again. "Nicholas? Nata..." Before he could finish the word, something fast and powerful had snatched him up and pinned him to the couch. "Ooomph!" he cried, as the air was forced from his lungs. Amazement and shock set in when he was finally able to open his eyes and comprehend what he saw. Natalie, barely dressed, was resplendent in her full vampiric state. Blazing amber eyes penetrated his own cool blue ones, and sharp, white fangs curved delicately over her full bottom lip. "Sweet Jupiter!" he gasped. "You are exquisite." Natalie, still straddling her prey, sat back on her heels. "You really think so?" she asked. LaCroix could hardly stop staring at her. If he had known she was to turn out like this, he would have brought her over himself. "Oh, yes," he stated emphatically. "I am glad my son has finally come to his senses." Natalie leaned forward on his chest again. She sniffed his throat and licked the carotid artery. "Umm, you smell so good, like freshly baking bread." Her mouth was watering for this mortal's blood. Without a thought for her actions, Natalie plunged her fangs into his neck and drank deeply. His plans for returning the disk, his hopes for little Lucy, as well as his two thousand years of experience flooded her being and nearly overwhelmed her. Just as he was beginning die, Natalie withdrew, and guided by LaCroix's own memories, she bit her wrist and offered it to him. For a moment, the General lay limp beneath her, and her blood overflowed his mouth, running down his face and chin. "Please, LaCroix," she begged softly. "You have to come back. Nick will kill me if you don't." The clock ticked the precious moments away. Miraculously, he swallowed. That one swallow was followed by another until he was sucking eagerly at her wrist. When the crisis seemed over, Natalie removed her arm and helped the General to sitting position. In awkward silence they stared at one another. "I thought your `cure' made the recipient immune to the vampire virus," he croaked out. Natalie frowned. She walked over to the crate and took two bottles bearing the Raven's unique logo. Handing one to LaCroix, she opened the other for herself and plopped down beside him on the couch. For a long time, neither of them spoke but sat together in companionable silence like long time drinking buddies. Finishing the last swallow, Natalie returned the empty bottle to the crate and switched on Nick's computer. "Give me the disk, LaCroix," she told him. "I shall do nothing of the sort," LaCroix stated. He too returned the empty bottle to he crate and stood looking down at her. "I have now been returned to my proper place. I no longer require your help." He smiled and moved to the door. "Good evening, my dear Natalie." "Stop right there, Mister!" Natalie yelled. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "If I understand this vampire business correctly," - she opened her eyes to glare at him - "and I am using your memories as a guide, I believe that you are now my son and I am your master." The General froze in horror. She was exactly correct in her estimation of the situation. He swallowed angrily and returned to her side. "Here," he offered her the disk. "Thank you." Natalie smiled sweetly as she slipped the disk into the machine. While she studied the screen intently, LaCroix sat sullenly on the couch. This was a most unexpected turn of events. One about which he was not at all happy. He was Nicholas' father. Natalie was Nicholas' wife. Did that now make him his own grandfather? He shook his head and lay it within his hands. "That's it!" Natalie shouted. She turned toward her long faced son. "I used Nick's blood as the basis for the serum so the immunity was only to his particular type of virus." LaCroix sat up. He was perplexed. "I do not understand." "When the vampire virus enters a new host," Natalie explained, "it mutates itself to match the host's unique DNA structure. My serum, the serum that cured you, was based on Nick's blood. It allowed you to return to a mortal state, but since it was not developed especially for you, it would not hold you in that state in the event that you were re-infected." As he digested this bit of happy news, LaCroix began to understand. He smiled at his new master. "If the serum had been injected into Nicholas as it had been intended, he would have achieved immunity." Natalie nodded. "Now all I have to do is reconstruct a separate serum for me and one for Nick," she told him happily. "And you will help me do it." "Not I, Madame," he returned coldly. "Oh, yes, you will, Son," she answered triumphantly. When she saw the miserable look on his face, she softened. "You will help me create a permanent cure for me and Nick, and in return, Nick and I will adopt that little girl." LaCroix eyed her thoughtfully. That was exactly the plan of action he had hoped to set in motion. Of course, that had been before he found himself mastered instead of the master. Natalie saw the interest in his eye. "And," she added icing to the cake, "when I return to mortality with Nick, I'll release all authority over you and give you your freedom." The General's eyes gleamed with desire. "It's a deal," he told her. * * * "Nick," a voice sounded through the fog. "Hey, Nick, wake up." "Please, Nat," Nick begged as he rolled over, "I need ten more minutes." There was a small snort. "It's me, Schanke," the voice insisted. "You've been asleep for hours. C'mon and get up. I need to take you home." Nick Knight sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He blinked at his partner who stood over him. "What time is it? Where am I?" he muttered. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Nick recognized the room. He was in Schanke's guest bedroom. Apparently his partner had brought him home to get some rest. "What time is it?" he asked squinting at the bedside clock. It showed nearly four in the morning. "Jeez, Nick, you really are out of it," Schanke said sympathetically. He lowered his voice. "Did Natalie really wear you out that bad?" Nick frowned at Schanke. A gentleman never carried tales. "Could you take me home, Schanke? I'm sure Natalie is wondering where I am. I told her I'd be back by eight." * * * When he stepped out of the elevator into the loft, Nick was relieved to find his beautiful bride asleep on the couch. He tiptoed to the refrigerator and opened it searching for a dark, green bottle. There was only one left. Only one? There were six when he left, plus the three from the Raven's crate. Pulling it out and closing the door, he popped the cork and took a long drink. It was good. Nick shook his head. Had Natalie guzzled the other eight bottles on her own? Well, if he had to judge her hunger by her sexual appetite, it was a wonder she had left him the one bottle. He sat down in the chair next to the couch and looked at her with awe. He'd have to order another crate and soon. Turning up the bottle for another long drink, Nick kicked off his shoes and reached for the remote. He set the shutters on automatic to close before sunrise and switched on the television, turning the volume way down below a mortal's hearing level. He'd been channel surfing for several minutes Natalie awoke. "Hi," she muttered sleepily. "When did you get home?" Nat sat up and curled her feet under her. "Just a few minutes ago," he answered She took the remote from him, turned to a movie channel, and put the device on the table. "I'm so glad you're home." "Me, too." He smiled at her. They sat together for a while watching television. Nick took several more drinks from his bottle, offering Natalie a drink each time as well, but she declined. Downing the last swallow, Nick set the bottle on the floor. "That was the last. Guess I ought to call the Raven and order another crate." He eyed his wife and grinned. "Maybe two." Natalie laughed. "I don't think so," she told him. "In fact, I don't think we'll need to ever again." Nick frowned in puzzlement. "What do you mean, Nat." "I have a big surprise for you, Nick," she grinned at him. "LaCroix came over while you were gone, and he and I worked on the `cure' problem." Grasping her shoulders tightly, Nick cried, "Nat, LaCroix is mortal now. You didn't hurt him, did you?" "Well," she admitted sheepishly, "let's just say he's back to his old self." Nick looked at her with fear and disbelief in his eyes. "I brought him back across. I couldn't stop myself." Still Nick continued to stare at her in shock. "What? How?" Natalie related to him the details of this night's work, and when she was done, she showed him the two syringes filled with a thick, clear fluid. "This is it, Nick," she whispered. "The real thing." "And all we have to do is adopt this little girl?" he asked skeptically. "What's wrong with her? Is she Lizzie Borden's evil twin?" "No, Nick," Natalie said with a laugh. "I saw everything very clearly through LaCroix's blood. It's all on the level." "He has promised to leave us in peace and let us live our lives as mortals?" he asked. When she nodded, Nick continued, "So what does he get out of this? Peace of mind concerning the child?" He couldn't quite accept all of this. "Yes, that's all he asked for," Natalie said, "except that he asked me to prepare a gallon of this for himself." She pointed to the syringes. "Why would he want a gallon of the cure?" "Beats me." She shrugged. "So," she stated as she held the first hypodermic aloft, "are you ready?" Nick rolled up his sleeve in answer. * * * Saturday night. The party had been roaring along splendidly for over an hour when LaCroix arrived. Standing behind the bar, the General called out, "May I have your attention, Ladies and Gentlemen?" When the hubbub died down, he spoke more softly. "I would like to thank you all for attending my party tonight. I have recently regained my proper status as Master Vampire as well as control over my finances and thought I would show my gratitude by hosting this celebration." The crowd rumbled with pleasure. The new Lucien LaCroix was turning out to be a much better sport than the old one. LaCroix waved his hand over the bar whereupon sat enough crystal goblets for the entire assemblage. "This is from my oldest and finest vintage," he told them as Brianna and Miklos handed out a glass to each vampire present. "I want each of you to know as you drink that I hold no grudges. Now that I have returned to the Community, I am able to appreciate the humor of the situation." LaCroix chuckled and smiled. "And now, I should like to propose a toast." He held his own glass high. Everyone raised his glass as well. "Over the lips and past the gums, look out stomach, here it comes!" The throng of vampires stared at LaCroix as if he had gone quite mad. Indeed, perhaps he had, and no wonder considering the stress the poor fellow was had been under. But as LaCroix lifted his own glass to his lips, all of them tossed back their drinks as well. When the last drop had been swallowed and the last goblet set down, Lucien LaCroix broke into laughter. It was a wild, maniacal, Vincent Price laugh, and it chilled the blood of everyone who heard it. Janette was very concerned and approached her father carefully. "Hush that screeching, LaCroix! You will ruin the party." Then a sudden wooziness came over her, and she fell to the floor in a drunken stupor. All around the Raven, vampires were dropping onto the floor like flies. LaCroix's laughter rang out louder than ever until he was forced to sit down on a barstool and wipe the tears from his eyes. Raising his glass in a final salute, the General roared loudly, "Welcome to mortality, my children!" The end. Maybe.