Date: Fri, 28 Jan 2000 

I cannot take credit for the main characters here.  This is the third story
in my incredibly silly series.  It immediately follows "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 2 of 4
By Elise


     As the trio entered the airport, Nick saw Janette.  Wearing a short,
blue silk sheath dress which perfectly matched her eyes, she drew many
appreciative stares.  The only thing marring the perfection of the scene she
made was the worried frown on her face.
     Janette ran to embrace Nick and placed a light kiss on his lips.
"LaCroix," she whispered urgently, "what has happened to him, Nicolas? I
can no longer sense our father."  She lowered her voice below human hearing.
"You have not killed him, have you?"
     Before Nick could speak, they were joined by Natalie and LaCroix. "I
am here, Janette," he told her.  His voice and manner were subdued.  How
could he ever face the Community as a mortal?  Well, at least he knew his
two children would stand by his side.
     "And so am I," Natalie retorted.  Her voice and face were angry, again.
She had seen the kiss and was very aware of how Janette still clung to her
husband.  Boldly, she pushed between them and pretended to smile.  "We are
married now as I'm sure you know.  So, why don't you be a good little Elvira
and leave my husband alone?"
     Nick winced at the "Elvira" comment, but LaCroix laughed aloud.
     "Husband?" Janette asked sweetly.  She, too, flashed a fake smile. "In
name only, I'm sure."  She paused a moment to let that sink in.  "I can
still hear your heart beat."
     That was it.  Nick quickly pulled Natalie through the terminal and
outside where he immediately hailed them a cab.
     LaCroix and Janette watched their retreating backs.  "Really, Janette,
that wasn't very nice," LaCroix told her.  He tsked rather loudly, but he
grinned all the same.
     "And calling me Elvira was?" she countered.  Then something
unbelievable began to dawn on her.  "You," she began then stopped.  She
wrinkled her perfect nose as if she smelled something rancid. "You have
changed."  Her voice held disgust.
     LaCroix cleared his throat before speaking.  "Yes," he replied
noncommittally.  He held his temper in check.  "It seems I have become
mortal." The ex-master vampire tossed his head with self importance, defying
her to comment.
     "Mortal?" Janette squeaked.  "But how?"
     He sighed loudly and took her arm, guiding her to the exit.  "It is a
long story which I will tell you on our way home."
                       *     *     *     *


     All the way home, Natalie refused to speak to him.  When they reached
the loft, she slammed the door of the cab and stormed up to the loft leaving
him to handle the cab fare.
     "Nat?" Nick called out hesitantly as he entered the loft.  She was
nowhere to be seen.
     "Mrorw."
     "Hi, Sydney," Nick spoke to the hungry feline.  "Where's your mama?"
He reached down to stroke Natalie's pet.
     Sydney suddenly flattened his ears, hissed, and spit at Nick.  The hair
along his spine stood on end.  One, two quick slaps in Nick's direction, and
the cat vanished from sight.
     Nick heaved a sigh.  First, Natalie was sputtering at him and now her
cat.  He loved Nat desperately, but she was being totally unreasonable.
"Nat?" he called again as he headed up the stairs.
     Natalie lay on the bed fully dressed.  She didn't move when he entered,
but Nick knew she was not asleep.  He sat down on the foot of the bed and
folded his hands quietly in his lap.  "Nat, we need to talk," he said gently.
     Still, she didn't move.  "Okay," she agreed.  "I guess that's all the
action I'll get out of you."
     He stood up as he began shouting.  "Why are you being so unreasonable?"
he yelled.  His temper had finally reached its limit.  "Mortality is finally
within my grasp.  You've found a cure, and you're willing to throw it all
away for a little sex?"
     Natalie still hadn't moved, but with his sensitive hearing, he could
tell she was crying. Feeling guilty for causing her tears, Nick sank to his
knees beside her.  "Nat, I love you," he whispered into her ear. "You're my
best friend, my confidant, my wife."  He paused to stroke her hair. "One
day, I swear it, I'll make you my lover and the mother of several small 
boys."
     She sat up with a trembling smile on her face, tears easing from the
corners of her eyes.  "I am so sorry, Nick," she blurted out.  He moved to
sit beside her on the bed and held her tightly.  "I guess I have been
selfish, but how long am I supposed to wait?"  She lifted her eyes to his.
"Maybe I can retrace my steps and reformulate the serum, but it'll take
time."  Nick took the edge of the sheet and wiped away her tears.  "It took
me two years to do it the first time."
     "Two years isn't that long to wait, Nat," he told her gently.
     "Maybe not for you, Nick," she told him.  "I'm thirty years old, and my
biological time clock is ticking pretty loudly.  Another two years makes me
thirty-two, and every year I lose increases the chances of problems in a
pregnancy."
     He chuckled softly.  "And if I bring you across or kill you, there will
be no chance at all of pregnancy," he countered.
     "At least we could practice," she grumbled.  Then suddenly she grinned
at him and held out her hands.  "Okay, I guess no one ever died of terminal
horniness."  Nick laughed.  "Let's compromise."
     "Compromise?" he asked suspiciously.
      Natalie ignored him and continued.  "You'll have to stay away from
Elvira, or I won't make it.  After two years if we haven't found the cure,
you bring me across.  Deal?"
     Nick ground his teeth.  Her suggestion was fair and reasonable, and he
knew he should agree, but he just kept picturing the big, tall, Black man
from the traffic division.  She had actually slept with Officer Randall
Montgomery.
     Yes, he had slept with Janette and had done so on and off for over
seven hundred years, but that was different.  He growled deep in his throat.
His fangs had begun to descend and were pinching his bottom gums.  "All
right," he snarled, "but no more Randy Montgomery."
     Natalie nodded solemnly and held up her right hand.  "I promise." She
couldn't believe he had actually believed her when she told him she'd slept
with Randy.  She hadn't and wouldn't.  Grace liked Montgomery and was
desperately trying to get him to notice her.  Nat had helped her out by
carrying messages to him.  Yes, it was all pretty much junior high tactics,
but it was working.  Montgomery kept showing up at the lab, and he had asked
Natalie if she thought Grace would go out with him.  Natalie knew she
shouldn't have told Nick that she and Randy had been having sex, but after
hearing about Alyssa, she couldn't resist telling him just that one white
lie.  It served him right.
     She smiled and kissed him gently on the nose.  Then she hopped off the
bed.  "Well?" she questioned him.  "Are you ready?  Let's go."
     "Go?  Where?" he asked, puzzled.
     "To find LaCroix," she explained as she dragged him downstairs. "Right
now his blood is the only link we have to the serum.  All of my notes were
in our luggage, remember?"
     Nick nodded and frowned.  He'd forgotten about the luggage. "Okay," he
told her.  "Let me call the airlines and have them put a trace on our bags.
They can reroute them back to Toronto."  He walked to the telephone.  "I
guess we can spend our honeymoon doing full-time research."
     "Okay," Natalie agreed, "but in two year's time, mortal or immortal,
you owe me a real honeymoon."
     "As you wish, milady," he answered in a proper British accent.  He
swept her a full bow, then turned to dial the airlines when the telephone
rang.
                         *     *     *     *


     LaCroix drew himself up to his most regal posture.  "I fail to find the
humor," he said coldly.
Everyone was gasping for breath as they laughed at LaCroix.  Janette caught
her breath long enough to speak.  "Oh, but it is hysterical, mon Pere," she
told him.  "You, Lucien LaCroix, the most feared vampire in Toronto, now a
mortal."  She clutched her middle tightly as she continued laughing.
"Whatever shall we do with you?"
     LaCroix's icy blue eyes glared at the gathered Community.  "You will do
nothing with me," he intoned in a voice that used to shatter even the
steeliest of nerves.  "I only require the same respect that."  He was unable
to complete his sentence.  For at that precise moment his traitorous body
chose to rumble, loudly.  His face reddened with humiliation as the
gastronomical concerto continued with gusto.
      The crowd again, for the umpteenth time since his entrance, collapsed
into a chortling mass.
     "It would seem we should feed him," Aristotle spoke as gently as he
could.  Poor Lucien, he thought.  Ah, but, as they say, we reap what we sow.
     "Or we feed on him," a voice called from the crowded room.  Several of
the vampires present pushed forward towards the vulnerable General.
     LaCroix's delicate mortality was saved by another cat-call. "Feed on
the General?  That old fart would most likely taste like vinegar!"  The
crowd laughed again and fell back into place, and Lucien LaCroix breathed a
secret sigh of relief.
     Aristotle moved forward to eye his old companion speculatively.  "Well,
Lucien, I don't quite know what to say."   He removed his glasses and rubbed
the lenses on a cocktail napkin.  "I'll set the circuits busy looking for a
reversal of the good doctor's work.  She must be one hell of a woman," he
laughed.
     LaCroix nodded curtly.  "Yes, I would appreciate and reward (he said
this very loudly) anyone who is instrumental in returning me to my former
state."  He turned to make sure everyone had heard.  They were now no longer
laughing.  LaCroix's wealth was legendary.  LaCroix nodded again and faced
Aristotle.  "And, yes, Dr. Lambert is indeed one hell of a woman."
     Aristotle pursed his lips and scratched his nose.  "Okay, I'll set the
world-wide Community to work, but there is a slight problem."
     "Problem?"  LaCroix demanded haughtily.  "I see no problem."
     "Oh, but there is one to be sure," Aristotle insisted.  "I hate to
point it out, but you are no longer a vampire; therefore, you are no longer
a part of our family.  So you must leave us and live among the mortals."
     LaCroix sputtered with indignation.  "You dare suggest that I."
     "And you should pray to the old gods and any new ones that the
Enforcers do not find you!"
     That took the wind out of LaCroix's sails.  He drew in a deep breath
and let it go hoping some of his anger would go with it.  With cold contempt
he shouted, "Fine! Brianna, call me a suitable hotel and make reservations
for me."
     "Call yourself," she shouted back.  "I don't take orders from mortals."
The crowd hooted.
     LaCroix's face reddened with anger, but he dared not order her again.
He was damnably mortal, and she might well take revenge for all the extra
unpaid hours he'd made her work.  His nose wrinkled, the fine lines
surrounding it turning white, as he fought to maintain control.  Back held
rigid, he marched to the bar and snatched up the telephone receiver.
     Aristotle cleared his throat loudly.  "Can you really afford to stay at
such a fine hotel, Lucien?"
     "Of course, I can," LaCroix snapped back.  Aristotle shook his head
negatively, and LaCroix slowly replaced the handset.  "Just what are you
implying?" he demanded.
     Aristotle truly felt sorry for the General, but he couldn't keep the
grin from creeping across his face.  "Well, since you are no longer a
vampire and no longer a member of our Community....."
     "I know that already," LaCroix nearly shouted.  "Get on with it!"
     "All right," Aristotle agreed.  "You may no longer have control of the
vast fortune and monies you acquired while you were of our kind."
     "You would cast me out penniless?" screamed LaCroix.  He was aghast.
"Stop your laughing all of you!" he furiously spouted at the crowd. This
made them howl all the more.  "Janette, he grasped his daughters arms, "you
will lend me the money."
       "I certainly will not," she informed him.  As he stood with utter
shock on his face, she explained.  "It is about time you paid for all the
suffering you caused others.  Besides," she added, "I've had to replace the
sound system in here last week, and it cost a fortune."
     "But what will happen to me?" he asked weakly.  "Where will I go? What
shall I do?"
     "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn!" the room chorused.  Then it
swelled into raucous laughter.
     LaCroix's bottom lip stuck out, but he refused to cry.
     Aristotle took off his glasses and wiped his eyes.  He couldn't help
it.  The irony of the situation was just too much.  "Hubris, my old friend,
never helped anyone."  He cleared his throat.  "Now, don't worry overmuch.
I'll make some arrangements so you will be employed."  He lowered his voice.
"Now, it would be prudent if you left."
     LaCroix, in a state of shock, nodded mutely.  He again reached for the
telephone.  "Nicholas, will take me in," he murmured.  He placed the call,
and as he had predicted, Nicholas agreed to come pick him up.
                          *     *     *     *    

      When Nick drove up to the Raven, LaCroix was standing on the curb,
suitcase in hand.  Nick parked the car, and he and Aristotle helped LaCroix
along with his lone suitcase into the back of the Caddy.
     Having shut the passenger side door securely, the elder vampire leaned
in Natalie's window.  "I'll make arrangements for some type of employment
for him."  Aristotle jerked his thumb towards the sad occupant of the back
seat.  "And I'll personally handle his finances until he returns," he paused
to eye Natalie with a smile, "or until the High Council decides what to do
with him."
     Nick nodded curtly.  "Natalie and I will see to him tonight, and
tomorrow we'll place him in Natalie's old apartment."
     "Ah, yes, Natalie," Aristotle beamed the words.  Gently, he reached for
her hand and drew it to his lips.  He kissed it softly.  "You are an amazing
woman, and I, for one, am delighted to meet you." He squeezed her hand, and
she blushed.
     "Yes, well, there are others of our kind who won't be so favorably
impressed with her research," Nick said sourly.  He pulled her hand back
into the car and drove away.
     "Nick," Natalie chided, "you were rude to him."
     "He had no business kissing you," he muttered.  Jealousy was still
gnawing at him and growing with every hour.  "You're my wife."
     "He kissed my hand, Nick," Natalie said in an exasperated tone of
voice.  "And you're my husband, but I didn't see you rushing to explain that
to Elvira at the airport when she was slobbering all over you."
      Natalie's comment seemed to break LaCroix out of his reverie.
"Janette disliked your calling her that," he said.
     "It wasn't very nice," Nick added primly.
     "I find it very clever," LaCroix retorted.  "Especially now."
     "Why are you always defending her?" Natalie asked acidly.  "You don't
want to be married to me?"  She raised her voice.  "Fine, I'll file for an
annulment on the grounds of inability to consummate the marriage."
     LaCroix burst into laughter.
     Nick tried very hard to ignore him.  He took a deep breath and ground
his teeth "Natalie, I do want to be married to you.  I just don't want...."
     "If he does not want you, I do," LaCroix interrupted.  "I can
consummate a marriage."
     That tore it.  "Perhaps you'd prefer staying in a homeless shelter?"
Nick suggested angrily.
     Natalie stared out the window at the passing vehicles.
     Nick's next words came out stiffly.  "I thought we had an agreement."
     "We do, Nick," Natalie answered softly.  She turned back to face him
and lay a warm hand on his knee.  "But if I have to abstain for," - Her
voice dropped an octave. - "for two years, you do too."  She reached up to
touch his face.  The raspy beginnings of a beard were there.  "I love you,
Nick, but I know that Janette is your greatest weakness.  After all, it was
she who brought you to LaCroix in the first place."  Natalie paused and took
a deep breath.  Now seemed the right time to admit to something he knew
anyway.  "I'm just so very jealous of her."
     Although the traffic was especially heavy, Nick chanced a quick glance
at her.  She's jealous of Janette.  So that's what it is.  He thought
rapidly and smiled as the big light bulb finally came on for him. "Agreed."
     "If you find you cannot stand the pressure, Natalie," LaCroix called
out from the back seat, "I shall be more than happy to offer you my
services."  He smiled pleasantly and batted his eyelids innocently at Nick's
face in the rearview mirror.  Oh, how he loved to tease Nicholas.
    Nick ground his teeth in rage until they ached, but he refused to take
the bait
                       *     *     *      *


     Although the animosity between them was thick enough to cut, both
LaCroix and Nick united as gentlemen and hung back to allow Natalie first
entrance to the loft.  Stony-faced, they stared at each other in some
strange, ritualistic masculine contest of testosterone.  The loser would be
the male who capitulated to the will of the other.
     "You first," LaCroix offered with a fake smile.
     Nick smiled back just as falsely.  "After you."
     "Oh, but I insist," his master told him.
     Nick placed a hand over his heart and intoned solemnly, "Age before
beauty."
     LaCroix's smile deepened, showing positive dimples.  He took a step
forward, stopping in the doorway, and cut an amused look at Nicholas over
his shoulder.  "Pearls before swine," he asserted before following Natalie
into the loft.
     Upon entering, LaCroix immediately began his poor-me routine.  "I am
hungry," he muttered.  He looked down at Natalie with the saddest expression
she'd ever seen.
     "You can't be hungry," Nick scoffed.  "You fed this morning in
Atlanta."  He shook a finger at LaCroix.  "Besides it's almost sunrise, and
I'm going to bed."
     "But I am hungry," LaCroix said in a teeny voice.  His stomach voiced
its agreement.
     Natalie's biological clock, so long ignored, struck twelve and rang
throughout her subconscious.  Her maternal instincts surged forward and
compelled her to rush to defend the now defenseless LaCroix.  "Nick!" She
gasped as she wheeled around to confront her husband.  "How can you be so
mean?"
     LaCroix, sensing her mood, grinned triumphantly, and then quickly
covered his face with his hands.  He gave quite a masterful performance of a
hungry and frightened child.  The one-time General even managed to squeeze
out a few clear, salty tears and allowed them to trickle down his ashen
cheeks.
     Natalie was furious.  Couldn't Nick see that LaCroix had changed? He
wasn't the evil master vampire any longer.  He was a terrified mortal
suddenly thrown into a world with which he wasn't ready to cope.  "For your
information, Nick," she stormed, "mortals are required to eat - not feed-
more than once a day."  She wound her arms around LaCroix's shaking
shoulders and held him, stroking his back.  "There, there," she soothed.
"I'll get you some breakfast."
     The General carefully raised his head from her neck until he could see
Nicholas' face.  Then he did something he hadn't done in over two thousand
years.  Lucien LaCroix stuck out his tongue.  He followed this act with an
enormous grin and was rewarded by seeing Nicholas become quite apoplectic.
If he were mortal, the dear boy, would most certainly have a stroke!
LaCroix thought with glee.
     Natalie guided her little lost lamb to the doorway.  She then turned
with angry eyes and held out her hand palm upwards.  "Give me the keys to
the Caddy and some money," she demanded.
     "Natalie," Nick complained.  He knew it wouldn't do any good to argue.
She had fallen for LaCroix's miserable little act, hook, line, and sinker.
Nick was furious with LaCroix, but he didn't want to tackle Natalie and her
current attitude.  "Here," he grumbled as he handed her the required items.
"Where are you going?"
     "To McDonalds," she told him.  "Nick."  Her voice was softer and she
touched the side of his face.  "We won't be long."  She paused searching for
words.  "It should have been you who became mortal."   She paused again.
"No, it will be you.  Just as soon as I can retrace my steps, it'll be you I
take to breakfast at McDonalds."
     Nick smiled, considering exactly what revenge he intended to inflict on
his former master.  Maybe he could ask Aristotle to find him a job
collecting garbage.  He was certainly good at creating it.
      Natalie looked at her husband's face and noted a measure of calmness
there.  She assumed he was accepting the situation.  LaCroix would need
their help to learn to function in the mortal world again, and they would
definitely need his help in order to prepare another serum.  "I'm glad
you're beginning to understand."
     "Oh, I'm beginning to understand quite a bit," Nick answered
sarcastically.  His eyes never left LaCroix's face.
     The General's belly again made its empty presence known.  He smiled and
placed a hand over it to quiet it.  "Come on, Nat," he said brightly. "Let
us go watch the sunrise while we break our fast."

End of Part 2