This is a new Round Robin that is being posted to the FK Vals list.
Standard disclaimers apply.

LaCroix sat at his ebony desk, with a piece of smooth, cream colored, blank paper in front of him. He had sat there for one and half-hours, trying desperately to contemplate a possible opening for his night's monologue. Themes would leave him the moment he they enter his mind. Infamous quotes would be at the tip of his tongue for long moments but the words would be forgotten when he opened his mouth to speak them. What he wanted to say was so clear in his mind, but the moment he place the pen to paper it would become distorted and confused. The pile of partially written-on paper was testimony to his efforts.

LaCroix had writer's block.

He growled with frustration. He stood form his desk and began to pace the length of his office. He had NEVER had.... this.... insufferable problem before! Why now? When he needed his skills of speech so completely! This would not do.

He was running out of time. LaCroix had wanted to woo/lure Dr.Lambert at a slow pace, but in order to do that he had to act fast. Giving her little time to recover from his son's sudden absence.

He would have to change his plans.

He would have to do this in person.

He would have to do this tonight.

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Natalie turned the radio off in disgust.

" 'The NightCrawler is always here for you' my ass! That cynical bastard is proibly with Nick and God knows where that is!", they were running reruns tonight of his program.

Natalie's grip on the steering wheel tightened. Her head bowed. She began to breathe in deep, counted, angry breaths. She wasn't mad at LaCroix she was mad at Nick. It wasn't fare to take her anger at Nick out on other people. It wasn't right....,but it felt really good.

She had gone out to the book store in hopes of finding something that would help her pass the time. And she had. A nice little medical journal she had been wanting to catch. NO mystery novel. NO romance novel. NO horror novel. Something clinical. Something distant. Something cold.

Like her.

A tear slid down her pale face. The light turned green. She drove back to her empty apartment, her empty life, and her empty heart. She never noticed the tear traveling down the now common path of her sorrow.

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LaCroix awaited Natalie in her apartment. He had expected her to be home when arrived, but he found the dwelling empty and unexpectingly cold. Though the home was clean and in order, he felt as if something was wrong. The magazines were in perfect order, evenly spaced apart form one another. The cushions of the couch were equally ‘puffed’. There was no dust. There was no mess. Though decorated in a different décor from his own home, LaCroix recognized the signs of order. They showed a need for control. A demand for it. They oozed with the feeling of distance. LaCroix was in awe of how much the apartment had changed in a night.

He walked around the apartment. Pictures had been removed. Knickknacks gone. Flowers throne away. Her scent still lingered , but it seemed that was the only thing that remained that told one that Natalie lived here. Something was wrong.

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Natalie walked into her apartment slowly. She was tired. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. She didn’t want to check her mail. She didn’t want to screen her calls. She didn’t even want to turn on the lights. So she didn’t.

She never noticed the figure hiding in the far corner of her apartment.

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Natalie made a bee line for her bedroom. When she got there she methodically changed into her nightgown, slipped under the covers of her cool bed, and made a fruitless attempt at sleeping.

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LaCroix’s suspicions were confirmed when he had seen Natalie’s face. Stoic. Distant. A mask hiding pain. That is what her face had become. He then realized what needed to be done. If he wanted things to go smoothly with Natalie, he would need her to come to him, but things still needed to happen tonight, before Natalie got any worse.

He began to start a fire,. He hoped that the noise would incise Natalie from her bed. When the fire had become a roaring blaze he poured himself a glass of red ‘wine’ and waited.

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‘What in the world...’ Natalie thought to herself when she heard the noise in her living room. It didn’t sound as if anyone was breaking in. It didn’t sound like someone was rummaging through her things. It sounded like someone was...starting a fire in the fire place?!?

"What in the hell is going on!", she exclaimed as she threw the covers from her and walked to her living room. Grabbing her softball bat that she always left by her door on the way.

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Natalie looked around the corner of the hall. The room was bathed in a warm soft light from the fire. She could see the fireplace, but the person who had set the fire was alluding her.

"It is all right Doctor Lambert. It is just me. Oh and you can put down the bat."

"What in the hell are you doing here?", Natalie cried in a high voice as she quickly, dropping the bat in the process, crossed to the living room. She stood to the side, but in front of the fireplace. She was determined to face LaCroix down. Whatever he was here for.

"I came to see you, my dear."

"What do you want LaCroix?" Trying to get to the point. Quickly.

"Do I have to want something to come and see you Natalie?" Coy as ever.

"You? Yes you do. And one, you didn’t answer my question. Two, Doctor Lambert is fine." LaCroix chuckled at her bravo.

"Direct as ever Natalie."

"Doctor Lambert."

"Now Natalie-", he made a quick movement with his hands to quite her on coming protest to the use of her first name," I am here on a...business mater." When he did not continued, she gave him a very annoyed look. LaCroix just took a slip of wine.

"And?"

"It would be best if we continued when you were a bit calmer."

"Excuse me?"

"You will not like what I have to say."

"Say it and let me decide for myself."

"Very well. As you know Nicholas has moved on." Natalie tensed at his name. " Nicholas was your protection from the community. Without said protection you are very vulnerable to the most finicky of our community. Now some members of said community would like to see that you remain quite, no matter what it takes. Others would like the same thing, but they also want to insure that your health remain in good standing. Myself included." Natalie gave a small huff at this.

" First off, I thought I had protection due to the fever?" Her voice was no longer defensive, but inquisitive and soft.

"Some are using that to have you killed." Natalie was beginning to relax to the idea of having LaCroix in her apartment, despite the topic at hand.

"I don’t understand. If I helped save the Toronto community from the fever, why would I turn around and betray you all when I ,one, have nothing to gain from it, and two, I know full well that it would mean certain death?" Natalie began to pace in front of the fireplace.

"Your supporters are making similar arguments, my dear." She looked like a caged animal. Her wild auburn hair flowed around her heart-shaped face like that of a lion’s mane. She looked beautiful. After a short pause LaCroix continued. "Those who are calling for your blood are worried that something will happen and you will, either directly or indirectly, be the cause of our existence being known to mortals. I must confess I understand their few point. But there is a way to make everyone happy, at least temporarily."

Natalie stopped her rapid movement abruptly. "How?"

"You need to show your allegiance to the community."

"What? What do you mean? How come I never had to do this before?"

"Because your relationship with Nicholas, or the appearance there of, was allegiance enough."

Natalie closed her eyes and turned to the fire. Away from LaCroix. She didn’t know if she would start crying again and she did NOT want him to see her cry.

LaCroix noticed Natalie’s attempt to block the pain of Nicholas’ memory. He stood and crossed the distance between them. He loomed behind her, not touching, but Natalie could feel his presence hovering behind her.

"And your plan of action would be?," she asked in a rough, emotional voice.

"We will lead the community to believe that we are in a relationship."

Natalie spun to meet his eyes. Anger shown plainly on her face. It seemed to her that the only two people she had ever know who had the ability to make her demeanor and mood change in the blink of an eye were Nick and LaCroix. "How in the hell is that going to do anything.?! There is no way in on this planet that you and I will EVER be in any sort of relationship!"

"Your only options are to be brought across or death. It is your choice my dear. It would seem that the logical path would be to swallow your pride and play along."

Natalie looked down quickly. Why was this happening to her? When would she ever feel at peace again? What had she done to deserve this?

It took LaCroix every ounce of control he had in his body to not wrap this dear woman in his arms. She had done little to deserve what was happening to her, ...but she was mortal...mortals live and die in a world that does not believe in justice, in fairness, in giving those deserving, at least a half-decent life, just that. They die. They suffer. It is what they have done sense the begging of time. They are what they have been sense he was brought across. Nothing had changed.

Then why was he feeling this way? This was absurd! This...feeling was weakness. One does not change millennia old views in two nights. It could not continue. It would lead him no where but destruction.

Long moments passed before either of them spoke. Natalie was contemplating other options while she weighed the ones before her. Meanwhile, LaCroix continued to wage war with himself. Both where running circles in their minds.

"LaCroix?," Natalie finally said in a small voice.

"Yes?" He could smell the salt of her tears.

"Tell me honestly, why are you doing this? I can’t handle this if it is a trick."

"Natalie this is no trick." When she did not respond, he took her face in his hands and forced her to look in his eyes. "This in no trick. I am doing this because I do not want to see you hurt,"

"Why do you care LaCroix? Why?" She needed proof that he was telling her the truth, she needed to believe him. The frantic look in her eyes was complemented by the grip of her hands over his own.

"Because...," he looked into her eyes and saw the raw need of honesty. LaCroix wiped her slight tears gently from her face. "I don’t know why. But I do." Truth shown in his eyes.

At first there was disappointment in Natalie’s eyes, but they soon yielded understanding. She allowed herself to be wrapped in LaCroix comforting arms. Her head fit perfectly under LaCroix’s chin. He breathed in the sent of her hair, her skin, her blood. He felt the strings of bloodlust, but there was more. There was something lurking inside of him. LaCroix could not name it. He was afraid to.

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Outside of Natalie’s apartment building, the vampire in the green suit sneered in disgust at the sight he was seeing threw the window. To see the great General with that pathetic excuse for a mortal was outrages! This would not do at all! This ‘doctor’ would die for her knowledge of there kind. And he would certainly see to it that LaCroix learn his lessons for siding with a mortal. He would deal with Nicholas later. Screw what the people that were paying him wanted. This was justified.

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End Part Three