Date: Fri, 28 Jan 2000 
      

I cannot take credit for the main characters.  This is the third story
in my incredible silly series. It takes place immediately following 
"Honeymoon Horror."  
There is some innuendo and rude language, but no more than you'd catch
on television.  Permission is granted to archive - if anyone is of a mind
to do so.

Please send all comments to Elise at HYPERLINK
mailto:ejdeal@sga.quik.com


LaCroix's Lament, Part 1of 4
By Elise


     With the able help of the Reverend Mr. Luke Cross, Nick and Natalie
were able to locate a hotel room in Atlanta.  It was not the bridal suite as
they had hoped, but it was a nice, standard room complete with two double
beds.  Being a Southern gentleman, Reverend Cross insisted on helping
Natalie pick up the luggage while Nick half-dragged a still woozy LaCroix
towards the waiting station for the hotel's shuttle bus.
     The General, having regained consciousness, remembered and was utterly
appalled at what had happened to him.  He had been whining pitifully for the
past half hour.  "Nicholash, my shon," LaCroix slurred.  "You musht help 
me!"
     The two little old ladies from the flight, Louise and Sylvia, had
followed Nick as he dragged LaCroix across Hartsfield.  Louise had finally
managed to convince Sylvia to file a report on "that young, blond pervert"
who had accosted her while she was in the restroom on the plane. They
followed Nick and LaCroix psuedo-spy fashion (at what they perceived to be a
discrete distance), the two women decided that both gentlemen should be
arrested.
     When Nick finally deposited LaCroix on a bench to await their shuttle
bus, the prune sisters stared in open disgust.  "Isn't there a law in
Atlanta prohibiting public drunkenness?" Sylvia decried aloud.  She
certainly meant for both Nick and LaCroix to hear her.
     "It's a disgusting display!"  Louise agreed.
     LaCroix reeled about and fixed his crystalline blue eyes on Louise.
"Your fash, Madam, ish a disgushting dishplay!" LaCroix told her with a
sneer.  He felt instantly better after saying this.  The look of incredulity
on the woman's face gave him a genuine smile, the first he'd had in decades.
     "How dare you!" Louise exclaimed.  Her cry coincided with Nick's
chastisement.
     "LaCroix!  That was uncalled for," Nick stated sternly.  Secretly, he
did think it a rather pithy comment considering the problems he'd had with
the two old women, but he certainly didn't need anymore trouble at this
point.  "A person should not be judged by his or her appearance.  One can't
help the way he or she looks," Nick lectured his father.
     "Well, she could shtay home," LaCroix suggested rather loudly.  His
comment brought a burst of amused chuckles from other bystanders. It also
caused the two old pea-hens to storm off in a huff seeking airport security.
     "Nick, we have problem," Natalie called out as soon as she reached
them. "Our luggage is not here."
     Nick could not believe it.  He shook his head angrily.  "Well, we can't
help that now.  We'll put a trace on it tomorrow.  It's nearing sunrise," he
told her.  With a raised hand he pointed out the shuttle bus. "There's the
shuttle.  They arrive every thirty minutes so if we miss this one, we'll
have a half hour wait for the next bus, and....."
     "And that will be after sunrise," Nat finished his sentence for him.
                     *     *     *    *

     LaCroix, angry as a hornet from hell, was moving under his own power by
the time they reached the hotel.  Sullenly, he signed the register, walked
to the elevator, marched into the hotel room.  The former vampire master
wilted onto the bed and, lower lip extended in an adolescent pout, sat and
refused to speak to anyone.
     "Here," Nick handed the porter a twenty.  The porter grinned and
uttered promises of immediate future service should he be called.  When the
youth had gone, Nick surveyed the room in frustration.  It was his honeymoon
with Natalie, and they were forced to share a room with a now mortal 
LaCroix.  Nick made an undetermined male noise, took up his carry-on bag,
and rumbled into the bathroom.
     Natalie sighed as she closed the draperies and took stock of what
belongings she had in her carry-on bag.  Her honeymoon, hers and Nick's, and
they were stuck in this hotel room with LaCroix.  She shot him an angry
glare, but it quickly turned into a giggle.
     Lucien LaCroix looked like a pubescent boy pouting over a sporting
event that hadn't gone his way.  How could the fates have been so unkind to
me?  What have I ever done to deserve such a cruel fate at this?  Lucien
complained to himself, but deep in his heart, he knew exactly what he had
done to deserve this.  Worse, he knew that it was his own fault.
     "What did you say, LaCroix?" Natalie asked.
     Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, his only link back to
vampirism.  "Nothing," he told her and sulked a while longer. "Natalie," he
spoke up presently.  "Are you certain there is no cure for this poison you
inflicted on me?"  He spoke a sweetly as he could, but not having had to
sweet talk anyone (much less a woman) in over two thousand years, he was
badly out of practice.  It came out as more of an arrogant decree.
     Hands instantly on her hips, Natalie fired back.  "Don't you even start
with me, LaCroix.  No one invited you along on this trip, no one asked you
to interfere in our lives, and it's your own damn fault that you got the
injection and not Nick."
    LaCroix ground his teeth together until they actually hurt, but what
hurt worse was having to be nice.  "I apologize."  The words were very stiff
as they exited his mouth.  He had never used these words before.
     Natalie began to feel pity for the poor thing.  "LaCroix," she spoke
softly.  It was with apprehension that she sat beside him on the bed.
"Listen, there is no way to reverse the anti-vampire inoculation."  She
gently patted him on the back.  "None that I am aware of.  All of my research
was on disk, and the disks were in my luggage.  I can't even reproduce the
serum for Nick without the luggage."
     LaCroix did not answer her.  He hung his head and muttered to himself.
"What am I going to do?"  He felt very nearly close to tears.
     "Well, the first thing you're going to do is get some inoculations,"
she told him.
     LaCroix's head popped up.  He hadn't meant for her to hear him. Then
he remembered with grief afresh that he was now a mortal like her.  "I
believe I have had enough of needles and syringes," he complained sourly.
     Natalie grinned.  "Face it, LaCroix.  You haven't been a mortal since
the days of the Roman Legions.  You are susceptible to all sorts of viruses,
infections, and germs."
     LaCroix looked positively horrified.  "You mean I could actually die
from some microscopic germ?  How undignified!"
     "Let me make a few calls," Natalie told him as she picked up the
telephone.  "Atlanta is the home of the Center for Disease Control. Surely,
they would know what to do about you."
     Just as Natalie was hanging up, Nick emerged from the bath wearing a
pair of khaki shorts he had had the foresight to pack into his carry-on.
The white cotton T-shirt was still on the bathroom counter for Natalie. He
felt better after the hot shower and fresh bottle of blood.
     "It's all set," Natalie told LaCroix.
     "What's all set?" Nick asked.  Even though LaCroix was a mortal, Nick
still felt suspicious around him.  Besides, his former master was sitting
far too close to Natalie.  Jealously began to raise its ugly little head.
     "LaCroix has an appointment this morning at 11:00 to get inoculated
against every conceivable virus know to man."  She stood and glanced at her
watch.  "It's eight o'clock now.  You have three hours before you need to be
there.  Don't be late.  In fact, it would be a good idea to get there a
little early."  Natalie stood up and put her arms around Nick.  She kissed
him swiftly on the lips.  "My turn in the bathroom," she whispered in his
ear.  Deftly, she grabbed her bag and headed into the bath.
     Nick frowned at LaCroix angrily.  He moved to the second bed and pulled
down the covers.  Neither man dared speak to the other.  LaCroix set the
bedside alarm clock and rolled over on his side.  Maybe he could get some
rest before his appointment.
     Nick waited tensely on the bed.  He could no longer sense LaCroix, but
his vampire's senses told him that LaCroix was breathing deep and evenly and
was probably asleep.
     In a way, Nick felt sorry for LaCroix. This was the most terrible
punishment LaCroix had ever had to endure, but he certainly deserved it.
Time and again, LaCroix had sought to keep Nick under his control, to
destroy his soul, to hinder and ridicule his quest for humanity.  The
one-time master vampire had tried to destroy his relationship with Natalie.
How ironic that when she had finally discovered a cure for his condition, it
had been LaCroix who had been injected.  Nick laughed again as that scene
replayed itself in his mind.
     Suddenly, he sensed her - Natalie.  Nick turned his head to gaze at
her.  Although the lights were out and the heavy draperies covered the
windows shutting out most of the sunlight, Nick could see her clearly.
Natalie's skin was pink and flushed with warmth.  He could literally smell
the fragrance of the soap and shampoo she had used, and underneath he could
smell her blood scent.  Nick inhaled deeply as he left the bed and moved to
stand before her.
     "I'm sorry, Nick," she whispered.  She looked down at the soft white
cotton T-shirt she wore. "I had the most beautiful silk gown."  She sighed.
"It was in the luggage."
     Nick grinned at her.  The T-shirt barely covered her.  In fact, she had
to tug on the hem of it for modesty's sake.  He grinned wider as her tugging
caused the thin material to pull tightly against her breasts.  "I don't
mind, Nat," he whispered back as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled
her close to him.  His hands swept the back of the shirt, pulling the fabric
up exposing her naked bottom.  "I don't mind at all," he whispered again.
His hands touched her gently.  He'd wanted this for so long.
     Natalie smiled. This was one night she intended they finish what they
started.  After tonight, no more cold showers for me! She thought
triumphantly.  Standing on tiptoes, she leaned forward to kiss him.
     "You are so beautiful, Nat," he told her.  His voice was husky and felt
cool on her throat.  Natalie shivered with delight and anticipation.
     "I must agree," a soft voice slithered.  "And you have the loveliest
gluteus maximus I have seen in a long time."  LaCroix raised his head to his
hand and propped it up on his elbow.
     Natalie shrieked in outrage and dashed to their bed, jumping beneath
the covers as fast as she could.  Nick's reaction was more extreme.  In a
vampire's flash, he snatched the now mortal LaCroix up from the bed. He
caught his one time master by the neck and held him dangling above the bed.
Red-eyed Nick roared.  "I should break your neck, LaCroix!"
     Although he was beginning to fear for his fragile life, the General
refused to show it.  He knew Nicholas would not kill him.  The boy's silly
attachment to mortal morals forbade him to do so, but it was becoming
difficult to breathe as Nicholas tightened his grip.  "Put me down," LaCroix
choked.
     "Nick," Natalie called out.  She had pulled the covers up to her chin.
"Don't kill him."
     "Yes," LaCroix rasped out.  "Listen to your beautiful bride."
     "Shut up!" Nick growled.  He cocked his head towards Natalie.  His red
eyes glowed like embers.  "Why not?" he asked and shook LaCroix by the neck.
"He certainly more than deserves to die."
     "I agree," Natalie answered.  "But not on our wedding night," she told
him softly.  Nick shook his former master one more time for good measure
before dropping the gasping man to the bed.
     Nick strode angrily over to the bureau and snatched up his wallet.
Marching back over to LaCroix, he flung down a wad of bills.  "Take these
and go," Nick told him.  His voice was low and angry.  "Don't come back for
all I care.  Just be gone for the day.  If I see you before sunset, I will
kill you," Nick ordered.
     LaCroix hated to admit defeat, but like any good General, he knew the
importance of a strategic withdrawal.  With head held high, LaCroix walked
slowly to the door.  He was careful not to step too near his son.  "I will
return at sunset," he informed the couple.  Then he gracefully left.
     The General had barely moved past the threshold when the door slammed
shut behind him, and even with his superb vampire senses gone, he could hear
Nick bolting the door behind him.  LaCroix smiled smugly to himself as he
moved down the corridor.  He had come close to losing his new mortal life,
much too close, but he was happy to know that he still held the power to
bedevil Nick.
                                             *     *     *     *     *
      After bolting the door, Nick wheeled around and hurried to his bride.
He settled himself on the bed beside her and clasped her in his arms.
"Nat," he asked urgently.  "Are you okay?"  He hugged her tightly.
     She buried her face in his neck.  "Yes," she murmured back, "just
embarrassed by the old geezer and."  Natalie's words trailed off as she
began kissing him.  "Make love to me, Nick," she breathed on his skin.
"Bring me across just like we planned."
     Nick shivered with delight and pulled her away from his neck.  "We need
to talk."
     "Talk?"  Natalie's voice deepened nearly three full tones.  "Now? What
could there possibly be for us to `talk' about?" Were all men this 
infuriating or did she find the only idiot?
     "Nat!" he exclaimed.  "I don't have to bring you across.  You've found
a cure.  It works.  Now we can be together as man and wife."  He stroked her
face and smiled intently into her eyes.  "You are my best friend," he told
her solemnly.  "You are my wife, and now that there's a cure, I want to make
you the mother of my children."
     Natalie relaxed a bit.  She slid her hands across his chest.  "Well,
you'll have to make me your lover first, Nick," she told him as seductively
as she could.
     "No, Nat," he insisted, and with difficulty, he managed to dislodge her
hands.  "Don't you see?  If we wait just a little longer to make love,
you'll have another dose of the cure ready.  I'll be mortal then." Tenderly
he kissed her lips. "I want to make love to you in the sunshine," he
whispered sensuously.
     The look she gave him was murderous. Ever so carefully she folded her
hands in her lap and held them tightly.  If she didn't, she may well
strangle her husband.  "Nick," she huffed in frustration. "It took more than
two years of research and six months of experimentation to develop that
serum.  All of my records are on that disk.  I would be starting from
scratch."  Her voice shook as she gave this little speech, but she kept her
words clipped and at her doctor's professional best.
     "Two years isn't that long," he repeated.  "Not when we compare it to a
lifetime together."
     "Nick," she nearly cried his name. "I'm thirty years old.  I can't wait
any longer."
     "And I'm eight hundred and three," he replied.  Nick shook his head in
frustration and sighed.  Why is Nat being so unreasonable?  Here we are on
the verge of success, and all she can think about is sex.   "Okay, so at
worst, we're talking about having to abstain for another two years.  Two
years isn't that long, Nat."
     "Two years?  I can't wait two years!" Nat shouted.  "Do you really mean
that you want us to have a marriage in name only for the next two years?"
     Natalie continued on for a while longer, but the gist of her tirade was
the same.  In Nick's opinion, she was ranting. That little T-shirt couldn't
even pretend to keep up with her frantic gestures.  Nick simply sat on the
bed and stared openly at her naked lower body, grinning the whole while.
     "And why are you grinning like an idiot?" she shouted.  Before he could
answer, she suddenly realized her state of undress.  She felt the blood rush
to her face, and her first thought was to bolt under covers.  Then she knew
exactly what she was going to do.  If Nick insisted on waiting until she had
perfected another dose of the serum, another three years, before making love
to her, then she would see to it that he suffered as much as she did.
     Dr. Natalie Lambert grinned wickedly at her husband.  Slowly she moved
over to him and kissed him hard on the lips, making sure to cup his manhood.
Then with a deep, throaty laugh, Natalie pulled the T-shirt over her head
and threw it at him.
     Nick's jaw dropped.  He couldn't help it.  Natalie stood there
completely naked.  Her body mere inches away.  His fangs grew long and hard,
and his body responding similarly.  Both the man and the vampire wanted her
badly.  No!  He shouted mentally to himself.  I have to wait.  I can't do
this to her.  With fangs gritted, he rolled from the bed and marched into
the bathroom, taking care to lock the door behind him.
     Natalie curled naked under the sheet of the second bed.  When she heard
the sound of water coming from the bathroom, she laughed until she giggled
herself to sleep.  It was about time he suffered from a few cold showers
                     *      *     *     *    

     Natalie was rudely awakened around seven o'clock P.M. by a loud and
insistent banging on the door.  She sat up and quickly wrapped a sheet
around herself. "Nick?" Natalie asked with fear. "What is it?'
     Nick, looking like death warmed-over, was already half-way across the
floor when a high-pitched wailing noise began to accompany the thudding. "I
don't have a clue," her husband returned.  He ran a hand through his 
porcupine-ish locks.
     The noise slowly decreased to a low moan of pain and a feeble tapping.
"Nick?  Natalie?" It was a timid voice calling out to them.
     "It's LaCroix," Natalie whispered in astonishment.  Nick quickly
unlocked the door and pulled LaCroix inside.
     LaCroix, his Armani suit dusty, collapsed in Nick's arms.  "I'm dying,"
he gasped out.  "My arms are sore, and I feel feverish."  Suddenly a bizarre
rumbling noise sounded from LaCroix's belly.  "And there is a hideous
pinching in my gut," he whimpered.  As if on cue, LaCroix curled himself
into a ball and moaned with pain.  Nick carefully scooped up his father and
lay him on the bed.
     "He had his inoculations, and he isn't likely to have caught any bugs
this fast.  Maybe he's having an adverse reaction to one of the serums,"
Natalie said.  She was thinking aloud.
     Nick stared at Natalie with a growing sense of horror.  "Maybe your
serum isn't perfected, Nat.  What if death comes with mortality."
     "Of course death comes with mortality, you fool!" screamed LaCroix.
"What do you think `mortal' means."  His agony didn't seem to interfere with
his intolerance for stupidity.
     Wrapping the sheet around her toga-style, Natalie knelt beside him and
began examining him.  After several minutes of examining him, she sat back
on her heels.  "I really don't think it's serious.  The soreness and the low
grade fever are normal reactions to the series of inoculations he had today.
LaCroix, what have you had to eat today?"
     "Eat?" he asked.  A frown of perplexity creased his brow.  He hadn't
thought about food in nearly two thousand years.
     "Well, that's the problem then," Natalie told them.  "You're mortal,
now, LaCroix.  That means you have to eat."  She turned to face Nick. "Why
don't you call room service and order us something for dinner?"
     Nick pulled Natalie roughly to her feet.  "Why don't you get dressed?
LaCroix has surely seen enough of your body," he said quietly.  It was
phrased as a question, but there was no doubt he intended it as an order.
     Natalie's temper flared for a moment until she realized that Nick was
jealous.  Already his eyes were taking on a soft glow.  Serves him right for
all the pain he's put me through over Janette, she thought to herself. With
a grin, she slowly stood and raised her arms.  The toga-like sheet slid
downward.  Nick's eyes were drawn to her cleavage.  Natalie put her arms
around his neck, pressing herself against the alabaster marble of his body.
"Why don't you make me?" she cooed seductively.
     "Nat," he whispered harshly.
     In return, she kissed him hard, tickling his lips with her tongue and
forcing his mouth to part.  Nat tilted her head to deepen the kiss and felt
his fangs grow long and hard.
     "Nat, I can't control if you...."  His words trailed off as Natalie's
hands began a southward trek.
     The kiss ended as abruptly as it began.  Nick grabbed Natalie's upper
arms and jerked her backwards, away from him.  He was terrified of losing
control and taking her, killing her, then and there.
     Natalie's face reddened with anger even as the yellow glow was fading
from Nick's eyes.  "Fine."  Her voice was cold.  Like an empress, she pulled
the sheet to her.  "But don't expect me to make this easy on you."
     "Natalie," Nick offered, "can't you see I'm only trying to protect
you?"
     "No, I don't," she argued.  "When you proposed marriage, you said I was
to be your eternal bride, and now you're going back on your word," she
nearly shouted.
     "That was before I knew you had a cure," he returned just as angrily.
     For a long moment, she stood angrily staring at him.  Then with all the
grace of a queen, she gathered the folds of the sheet about her, turned and
into the bathroom.  The clicking of the lock could be heard like a canon
roar in the silent room behind her.
     LaCroix was beginning to feel better.  Nick's apparent refusal to
consummate his marriage vows amused him.  "Why, Nicholas," he mocked, "I had
no idea you were unable to rise to the demands of your bride."  He pointedly
eyed Nick's flat khaki shorts.  "Perhaps, I may stand in for you?" he asked
with psuedo-politeness.  "I assure you I will do my best to rise to the
occasion."  The General chuckled at his son's darkening, angry eyes. This
prompted him to take his joke one step farther.  "Indeed, Natalie may find
she prefers warm flesh over cold."
     That step took LaCroix entirely too far.  One handed, Nick snatched
LaCroix up from the bed and held him aloft.  "You will not even think of
touching her!" he roared into his former master's face.  Nick's fangs were
once again fully extended, but in rage this time, not desire.  His eyes were
red embers.
     The ringing telephone saved LaCroix's life.  Nick dropped him and
turned to answer the phone.  "Yes," he growled into the receiver.  His eyes,
still red, glared at LaCroix.
     "I was just teasing, Nicholas," Lucien LaCroix muttered.  He'd come
close to losing his fragile mortal life. "It seems you've lost your sense of
humor."  He stood up and moved before the dresser mirror, attempting to
adjust his suit.
     "Yes.  Good. Thank you," Nick spoke rapidly.  His eyes and temper were
back under control.  He sat down on the edge of the bed and began a series
of calls.  Twenty minutes later.  Nick turned and spoke to the now
presentable LaCroix.  "We have reservations for a return flight to Toronto
tonight."
     "Tonight?" Natalie asked.  She had emerged, dressed in last night's
clothing.  "But, Nick," she complained.  "It's our honeymoon."
     Nick spoke with a grimace.  "Under the circumstances, Nat," he told
her,  "I think it would be best to return."

End of Part 1