************************

The vampire took her by the shoulders and turned her toward the bed,
ignoring the feeble protest she tried to make.  He forced her to sit on the
edge and settled down next to her.  Once they were both seated, he took her
face in both hands and tilted it up until he could see her eyes.

"It just happened again.  Why?"

Nat dropped her gaze, but LaCroix refused to let her lower her head.

"I - it -.  I shouldn't get so dizzy.  I'm afraid I might have a fractured
skull."

"Didn't they x-ray you while you were in hospital?"

"They were going to, but you arrived before they could do it.  And charmed
them all into letting me leave."

The edge in her voice left no doubt how she felt about his untimely arrival.

Perhaps she had a point.  LaCroix winced as he remembered how hard her head
had hit that dumpster - and how much harder he had planned to slam it again.
She could easily have done some significant damage to herself.  He looked at
the fear in her eyes and realized he liked them much better when they were
blazing with anger.  He wondered what they looked like when they smoldered
with passion.  Had they ever done that for Nicholas?

His growl was almost a fierce as her snarl had been.

"Is anything wrong, LaCroix?  Besides your previous list of complaints, that
is?"

LaCroix laughed.  Dr. Lambert's eyes no longer showed fear; they contained
all the sarcasm her innocent tone didn't convey.

"Perhaps you should call me Lucien.  Will you allow me to call you Natalie?"

If he hadn't used some variation of French pronunciation, she would surely
have refused him.  But...

"Of course.  Since we're such good friends by now."

Now the sarcasm dripped from her tongue as well.

"Natalie, will you allow me to find out how badly you are really injured?  I
feel an obligation to be sure you are all right, since I took you out of the
hospital before your doctors could treat you."

LaCroix was surprised at how much truth there was in the statement.

Nat closed her eyes and swallowed hard.  What would his "examination"
involve?  Would he use it to try to gain control over her?  Nick had told
her she was a resister, but LaCroix - Lucien - was very obviously much more
powerful than his...student was.  But if she were really seriously injured,
maybe she could convince him to let her go.  Since he said he didn't want
her dead, this might be the best chance she would have.  She grimaced.
Whoever would have thought she'd be wishing for a fractured skull.  Knowing
she didn't have one would help, too.  She would be less frightened of
physical resistance if she knew she wouldn't kill herself in the effort.

"Please.  I'd appreciate any help you can give me."

God, did that sound like something out of a Tennessee Williams play.  What
was the line?  Something about "always depending on the kindness of
strangers"?  Didn't they cart that character off to a mental hospital?
<Well, just call me crazy.>

"Would you prefer to remain sitting or will it be easier for you to lie
down?"

Nat's eyes widened at that.  If he thought he would get her flat on her
back...

"Sitting up will be fine.  My head doesn't spin as much this way."

Not a lie, if not the entire truth.

LaCroix brought her forward until her head rested on his shoulder.  He
secured her with his left arm across her shoulders and began very gently
probing the back of her head with his other hand.

Nat winced.  LaCroix pressed harder.  Nat tried to move her head away from
the pain.  LaCroix moved his fingers a millimeter higher and pressed again.

"Ouch!!"

LaCroix lessened the pressure, stroking lightly along a line perpendicular
to her shoulders.  The pain receded and Nat felt the vampire's fingers
parting her hair along the line he had traced.  He repositioned her head so
that it was almost at the middle of his chest and turned her so that her
cheek lay against the soft silk of his shirt.  It was strange not to hear a
steady heartbeat.

He bent his head and she could feel an exhaled breath as he peered closely
at the back of her skull.  He pressed hard once more, his middle and index
fingers pushing individually along either side of that same line he seemed
to have drawn on her skin.

And then it was done.  Nat sighed as his hand moved away and his arm
loosened so that he could slide back.  He tipped her chin up with two
fingers and smiled.  This time it did reach his eyes.

"You do not have a fractured skull.  However, you do have a very large bump
which has already turned a very unbecoming shade of purple."

He paused, watching her closely.  Her response to his next words would tell
him a great deal about how successful he had been in his attempt to win her
over.

"If you like, I can reduce your sensitivity to pain for a while.  It will
probably also reduce the vertigo you're experiencing."

Panic flooded through Nat at the offer.  She was sure his offer would
involve hypnosis and she couldn't allow him into her mind.  She couldn't
imagine what he could do once he had control of her.  Nick had repeatedly
called him "unscrupulous".  How could she trust him to do only what he said
he would?  But how could she deny him?  If he took away the pain, she would
be able to fight him better.  And by agreeing to this, she might be able to
fool him into thinking that she found him...attractive; was interested in
being closer to him.  Besides, she was a resister, right?  So how much could
he really do?

Nat looked up and caught his gaze.

"Thank you for the offer... ."

<She's going to refuse.>

LaCroix was surprised at the disappointment he felt.

"...do I have to do?"

<She didn't refuse!>

LaCroix gathered his errant thoughts while viciously smothering that flicker
of pleasure.

"Just sit here and look into my eyes."

Nat almost squeaked with laughter.  He sounded like something out of a Roger
Corman horror movie.  Next he'd be taking out a crystal pendant and swinging
it back and forth in front of her face.

If he could have, LaCroix would have blushed.  Luckily he hadn't fed deeply
enough tonight to have any blood to spare.  'Look into my eyes'?  He was
amazed Natalie hadn't laughed in his face.  She definitely had more
self-control than most mortals he'd known.  <More than some vampires as
well> Nicholas' image flashing behind his eyes.

He ran a thumb along Natalie's jaw line, pleased when she shivered at the
touch and allowed himself to concentrate on her heartbeat.  A little
elevated, but no more than if she were anticipating a tryst with a secret
lover.  The vampire closed his eyes - what mawkish crap, he growled
mentally - and almost lost her.  She *was* a resister.  He refocused and,
careful not to invade too much of her privacy - it would be much more
challenging to coax her into revealing herself to him - he worked at
reducing her pain and masking her symptoms.

Nat was suddenly awake.  She hadn't even known when she'd fallen asleep.
She blushed as she remembered that she hadn't been asleep, not really.  Had
LaCroix - Lucien - done what he promised?  She concentrated, but couldn't
feel either the throbbing that had been her constant companion for so many
hours or the vertigo that had accompanied it.

Had he done only what he'd promised?  She had no way of knowing.  The image
of her barking like a dog at his command made her smile but it also
stiffened her resolve: she would fight every attempt he made to control her.

"...better?"

The coroner dragged herself back to reality and nodded cautiously, still not
sure her symptoms were really gone.

When she had no adverse physical reaction, she smiled up at her captor,
unaware of how it transformed her face.

LaCroix again thought of Fleur, her eyes alight with her enjoyment of the
stars.  But her image was superceded by the face of his current companion, a
mature woman whose wants and pleasures were formed by experience, not merely
dreams conceived in the sheltered naiveté of the schoolroom.

LaCroix blinked away the heresy as Dr. Lambert answered his question.

"Yes. Thank you.  I feel so much better."  The scientist, never very far
from the surface, reasserted itself.  "What, exactly, did you do?"

"I did not "cure" you.  You still have the same hideously purple lump on the
back of your head and you are still suffering from the after effects of a
mid-level concussion.  I just...encouraged you to forget the pain and
dizziness associated with them."

LaCroix cut off her next question before she completed the breath necessary
to ask it.

"I did *not* make you forget anything else."

Nat's eyebrow quirked up.  How had he known what she was going to ask?  She
didn't have to wait long for the answer to *that* question, either.

"It is what I would have asked next if I were in your...circumstance.  There
is an easy way to test it for yourself."  He did nothing to prevent the half
smile from turning up the corners of his mouth.  "Do you still think I'm an
arrogant, patronizing bastard?  Do you still want to strangle Nicholas for
treating you so badly?"

Nat gasped, but he cut her off again.

"No, I didn't 'read' that in your mind.  You have made your feelings about
me abundantly clear with no need for words."

LaCroix gestured toward the corner at the crumpled nightgown that still lay
where she had flung it.  Nat acknowledged his point with a guilty shrug.

"As for Nicholas, surely you haven't forgotten your vitriolic...description
of your current relationship with him already?"

Natalie *had* forgotten.  She couldn't believe she had given her emotions
such free expression - and in front of LaCroix at that.  She had never even
told Nick half of what she'd blurted out here, and he was the one she was
angry with.  Would she have been able to confront him tonight (last night?)
if she hadn't been...sidetracked?  She accepted that she probably wouldn't
have.  But here she was, sounding off to Nick's...mentor as though it were
the most natural thing in the world.  Why?  Her brows furrowed in
concentration.

Her whoop when she realized the answer would have sent a less self-possessed
man scuttling to the foot of the bed.  LaCroix merely blinked once.

Nat bounced up and stood in the center of the room, her arms outstretched,
as she whispered in wonder, "It's because I don't care if you like me.  For
the first time in a long time, I've just been concentrating on *me*.  On how
to get out of here; on how not to die.  Your opinion of me is - was - so far
from important that I just didn't worry about whether I pissed you off.  I
didn't worry about whether you would think I was too abrasive or too smart.
I just assumed you would kill me anyway, so it didn't matter how I acted."

She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, hugging her new-found insights to
herself, savoring the truth that neatly filled one of the empty places she'd
tried to ignore for so many years.  Had she ever felt this *good*,
this...free?  Happy, even?  Certainly not for a long time.  Not even on
Valentine's day, when Nick had - sort of - told her he loved her.  Words
she'd wanted to hear since the night they met; words that became meaningless
as he refused to change his behavior and her research went nowhere as a
result.

Maybe she *did* need to tell Nick off and walk away.  Or give him an
ultimatum that she really meant - one that *he* knew she would follow
through on.

Assuming LaCroix would let her out of here to do it.  She realized they were
far from done with whatever business he'd brought her here to conduct.

"Was?"

LaCroix' voice was so soft she wasn't even sure she had heard it.  She
slowly turned her head back toward where he still sat on the bed.

"What?"

"You said that my opinion of you *was* unimportant."

The vampire held a breath he hadn't taken, appalled that he had uttered the
words.  Would she respond?  Did he want her to?  Would she answer truthfully
or would she just tell him what she thought would get her out of here.  He
continued to watch his guest - for guest she had become sometime between her
first shower and her last - his hooded eyes betraying none of the turmoil
her presence had created.

Nat, too, remained frozen in place.  Why - when - had she changed her mind?
He had done nothing but terrify her since he'd dragged her into the taxi at
the hospital.  She hadn't felt safe since she'd awakened in his bed and
realized that she was his prisoner.

But, of course, that wasn't true.  She had felt safe enough to shower - the
last time, at least - without feeling that she would be spied on.  She had
felt safe - protected, even - when she allowed him to reduce her pain. Which
was still gone, she noted with detachment.  But *why* had all of that
happened?

The sounds of Vivaldi, a violin concerto this time, gently caressed her ears
and then she knew.  It was when he had deliberately pulled back from killing
her, when he could have so easily - and with some provocation from her, she
admitted to herself - and had instead asked her what composer she preferred
over Mozart.   If he were only the killer Nick described, he would have just
snapped her neck and dumped her body.  He'd had many opportunities to fake
accidents over the centuries; one more would be no problem.

She was able to see the complexity that her detective friend didn't -
wouldn't? - acknowledge.  If Nick was fascinating, LaCroix was captivating.
A man who had known Mozart...and probably Beethoven and Vivaldi as well.
Had eaten and drunk with them; played music with them.  <And had undoubtedly
stood side by side with Torquemada,> Nat reminded herself dryly,<helping him
with his "questioning".>  And reveled in it all, beauty and horror, pleasure
and pain...life and death.  Yes, she definitely wanted to learn more about
this man - and to be treated by him as more than a sniveling mortal, more
than a "midnight snack".  A phrase that had taken on an entirely new focus
this evening.

Her chuckle released them both from their trances.

Nat watched as LaCroix stood up.  No man had the right to be that graceful.
She wondered what it would be like to dance with him, his arm around her
waist, leading her through the intricate pattern of a waltz. She would
probably just trip over her own feet; he made her feel like an absolute oaf.

LaCroix searched Natalie's face, looking for some sign of how she might
answer his question, but she suddenly seemed to be almost as good as he was
at hiding behind a mask.  He missed the woman who had contemptuously tossed
that nightgown into the corner, her feelings plainly on display.

Another stalemate seemed to be in the works, with neither of them moving any
further, until Nat walked over to get a bottle of water from the kitchenette
before moving into the living room and sitting down on the sofa, careful to
avoid the splattered part of the carpet.  LaCroix followed, wondering when
he had lost control of his plan - perhaps of his entire life.

He sat in the chair, swiveling it around to face her, forced to wait while
she took a long swallow of water.  His fingers tapped lightly on the
leather; he would never learn be a patient man.

Nat smiled at the movement and put the bottle down, glad that she seemed to
be disturbing him as much as he disturbed her.  She smiled pleasantly.

"You were asking...?"

Was that the sound of his teeth grinding?  She almost laughed, but decided
not to push her luck.

LaCroix gripped the arms of the chair until his fingers left permanent
hollows in the upholstery.  Was she doing this deliberately or was she
really that naïve?  He looked at her closely.  Deliberately, without a
doubt.  He grinned sardonically and responded to her inquiry through
clenched teeth.

"I asked whether you had changed your mind about how much my opinion of you
mattered."

Nat gulped.  Suddenly vulnerable again, she couldn't find the sarcasm, the
anger, that usually got her through situations like this.  She couldn't even
bring herself to needle LaCroix about his obvious annoyance  She took a deep
breath and answered truthfully, more afraid than she had been when she first
woke up.

"I *do* care what you think of me."

She took another deep breath before hurrying on, not wanting to give him the
wrong idea.  <And what wrong idea would that be, Natalie?  That maybe you
care a little too much?>

Nat shook her head at the stray - and totally incorrect, she assured herself
sternly - thought and continued her explanation.

 "Not whether you "like" me but whether you think I'm more than just another
discardable mortal.  Whether you're interested in rising to the challenge -"

LaCroix' eyebrows shot up at her choice of words, but he chose to remain
silent.  Natalie continued as though she hadn't seen his reaction.

"- of  dealing with a person who'll be honest with you no matter what the
consequences.  Who won't back down because you raise your eyebrows - or your
hand - to them."

LaCroix pounced on the weakness in her argument.

"If that was all I wanted, Natalie, I could just continue my relationship
with Nicholas.  He certainly has never had a problem giving me his honest
opinion."

Natalie's response was immediate - almost as if she had known what he was
going to say and had planned how to counter it.

"But this would be *very* different.  I would not be your...creation,
your...child.  I would not have been forced to share your...life, your -"

<Uh Oh!>

***************

<End of The Best Laid Plans Part 6>