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Date: Fri, 14 May 1999 20:10:05 -0700
To: Vickie Sykes <vicsyk45@open.org>
From: "Nancy A. Taylor" <nat1228@home.com>
Subject: FICTION: That Ol' Black Magic

DISCLAIMER:  The characters of Nick and Natalie do not belong to me.
They were created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen and are owned by
Sony/TriStar.  No copyright infringement was intended.  


That Ol' Black Magic
by Nancy Taylor
(c) May 1999

     Natalie drove home slowly through the unfamiliar neighborhood.
Her destination should be just around the next corner. Whatever had
possessed her to listen to Tracy and come to this seamy side of town,
anyway? She was tired and just wanted to get home. Her argument with
Nick just before her shift had ended hadn't helped her mood at all.
Once again, he was stubbornly refusing to admit to real feelings for
her. Well, if he wouldn't commit, perhaps she'd look elsewhere.
     As she turned the corner, a brazen purple neon sign caught her
attention: 'Palm Reading.' Underneath the sign, painted on the window,
was a crystal ball with two hands caressing it and the words 'Fortunes
Told -- Love Potions' inscribed beneath.
     She pulled her car to the curb and sat staring at the lurid
display for several minutes before getting out of her car and walking
to the door. She couldn't believe that she had actually let Tracy
convince her to try a fortune teller. The young detective had jokingly
remarked to Natalie about trying a love potion on her stubborn suitor,
and she had just laughed. Trust Tracy to know about this place. She
put a tentative hand on the door handle and pushed. Stepping slowly
across the threshold, she found herself inside the gypsy's salon.
     'I must be crazy,' she thought, as she stood in the entryway. The
aroma of incense permeated the air, while a bead curtain sectioned the
entrance from the main salon. She had always privately ridiculed
anyone who used psychics or fortune tellers to predict their futures
or influence their love lives. Natalie had always been one who
preferred to determine her own fate.
     Coming to her senses at last, she turned to leave, but as she
placed her hand on the doorknob, a warm voice sounded from behind her.
"May I help you?"
     "Uh. . . ." Natalie turned in shock, embarrassed at being caught.
"No. No, I don't think so. Sorry." She opened the door a crack and
took a step toward the outdoors and freedom.
     "You are looking for a potion, perhaps? Or your fortune told?"
     "No. No, really. This was a mistake. I'm sorry to have bothered
you."
     "You are troubled." The gypsy woman spoke as Natalie tried once
more to escape. "You are in love, but not sure that your love is
returned. The man of your dreams lives under a curse that does not
allow him to reciprocate. You are angry and confused."
     Natalie turned to stare at the garishly dressed woman. She
realized her mouth was hanging open, and quickly snapped it shut.
     "Come. Come." The gypsy woman placed a gentle hand on Natalie's
arm, guiding her further into the room. "My name is Marja. Please.
Sit." She pulled out a chair in front of her fortune teller's table,
and Natalie sat heavily.
     "I don't know what brought me here," she stammered.
     Marja smiled knowingly. "You are here for answers, for love." She
pulled out a deck of tarot cards and began laying them out on the
table.
     "This young man of yours . . . no, not young -- very, very
ancient. . . ." She looked up at Natalie questioningly. The city's
coroner just sat and stared, her jaw once more nearly hitting her
chest. "Death surrounds him . . . surrounds you." Marja shivered.
     "I'm the night coroner for the city," Natalie offered by way of
explanation. "And my, uh, friend, is a homicide detective. Our jobs
bring us in contact with death everyday."
     "No. It is more than that," the gypsy intoned. "His soul is
captured -- held by a force he cannot escape." She turned another
card. "He loves you, but is afraid his affliction will cause harm to
befall you. Because of this, he stays cold, distant."
     "This is crazy!" Natalie exclaimed, feeling extremely
uncomfortable as this stranger laid her life out on the table under
the guise of a card reading. "Did Tracy put you up to this?" 
     "I have not spoken to anyone today except you," Marja answered.
She turned up a card with a large yellow sun.
     Natalie reached out and touched it. The sun was Nick's dream. She
had seen him play with a deck of cards similar to those the gypsy now
dealt. "How do you know so much about Nick? About me?" she asked.
     "The cards tell all to those who know how to read them," she
answered enigmatically.
     "Hmmm . . . that may be, but I've really got to get home now."
Natalie stood abruptly and turned, determined to escape from this
crazy place.
     She had no more than parted the bead curtain on her way out than
Marja tapped her shoulder once more. "Try this." She handed Natalie a
small bottle of a clear, red liquid. "A few drops in his drink should
do the trick."
     "What is it?" Natalie was suspicious of this woman and her
uncanny knowledge.
     "A love potion," was the simple reply.
     "No thanks." Natalie tried shoving the bottle back in Marja's
hand. "I don't need that."
     "But Nicholas does."
     She started at the use of Nick's name, and her fingers wrapped
convulsively around the vial.
     "Uh . . . thanks." She beat a hasty retreat out to her car. What
a relief it was to get out of that spooky place. She dropped the
bottle into the deep recesses of her purse, started her car and headed
for the safety of home.

     Nicholas Knight sighed heavily as he dropped onto the leather
sofa, bottle in hand. Tipping the mouth of the bottle to his lips, he
drank greedily -- tired and hungry after a long night at the precinct.
When he had fed enough to think clearly, his mind drifted back to his
conversation with Natalie. Conversation? She had nearly taken his head
off, once again. He had said something wrong, and had landed himself
in some pretty hot water. She didn't ask for much. Only for the
commitment she so richly deserved. He wished he could give her what
she wanted, but he was terrified of what the vampire might do should
he ever give into his desires for her.
     They hadn't had much opportunity to clear the air before it was
time to go home. He had stopped by the morgue to see if she might
consent to come up to the loft and talk, but she had already left.
     He stared at the phone, willing it to ring. When it stayed
silent, he finally lifted the receiver. His fingers hovered over the
buttons, uncertainty causing him to hesitate. Finally, he pushed the
speed dial for Natalie's apartment. He listened as the phone rang
several times before the answering machine picked up.
     "Nat? Nat, are you there? Nat, if you're home, please pick up."
He paused and listened to the hiss of dead air. "Nat, I'm sorry. I'm
not sure what I said, but I want you to know that I really care about
you. I want us to stay friends. Please, Nat. Pick up. . . ."
     Silence continued to greet him from the other end of the line.
Wearily, he hung up the phone. Picking up the empty green bottle, he
deposited it in the trash as he headed upstairs. How was he ever going
to sleep? He hated it when Natalie was angry with him. He loved her so
much it hurt.
     The sun was up and Nick was exhausted. He showered and pulled on
a fresh pair of his omnipresent black silk pajamas. The soft fabric
slid over his bare skin sensuously, reminding him of her touch. No, he
couldn't afford to let his mind wander in that direction. The pain of
the previous night's rejection was still too raw. He pulled down the
blankets, revealing red satin sheets beneath. As tired as he was, his
bed was not inviting. It seemed cold and empty.
     Turning his back on the bed, he padded barefoot down the stairs.
He lit candles all over the room and turned out the lights. Pouring
himself a goblet of blood, he walked over to the piano and sat down.
After a brief sip to fortify himself, he began to play Beethoven. The
smooth mellow notes of the Moonlight Sonata drifted through the large
room, settling his rattled nerves. He put all his pain and frustration
into playing the piece, blood tears staining his cheeks as he tried to
put aside the love that made his heart ache so badly. If only he could
tell her . . . show her how he really felt.

     Natalie tossed her purse and coat on the couch and headed for the
kitchen to make herself a sandwich. A persistent beeping finally drew
her to the telephone. She punched a button on the answering machine.
     "You have one message," the machine intoned. After a click, a
familiar voice filled the room. "Nat? Nat, are you there? Nat, if
you're home, please pick up." She listened to the rest of Nick's
message, anger and longing warring within her. 'Friends'? He wanted to
remain *friends*? How could he pretend to understand how she felt
about him, and then make a statement like that? She let her fury
build. It was a defense against the ache that had started once more in
her heart.
     Against all logic, she had fallen in love with a man who
wouldn't, *couldn't*, she corrected herself, love her back. A man who
carried evil inside him, who wrapped himself in darkness -- a man
whose soul was forfeit for eternal life -- a vampire. Not that she
believed that crock he tried to feed her. He was more human than most
people she knew, with a soul the size of Texas to match. Still, her
life had turned topsy-turvy the night Nicholas Knight had entered her
reality. That night she had given up her naivete concerning creatures
of the night, and had embraced the concept of mythical creatures
stalking the streets of Toronto.
     She found she had lost her appetite, and walked over to the couch
to pick up her belongings. Grabbing her coat to hang up, she knocked
her purse to the floor. The contents spilled in a heap, the small vial
of crystal-red liquid rolling under the coffee table.
     Sydney appeared out of nowhere, trotting over to the couch to
investigate the items which had fallen to the floor. Sniffing
everything in turn, the sparkling red bottle finally won out to his
curiosity. He began batting the vial to and fro across the living room
floor before Natalie could retrieve it.
     "Oh, Sydney, you bad kitty!" She bent over to pick up the vial.
The contents sparkled and glinted in the light, causing her to pause
and admire it. As the cat wound himself around and between her legs,
purring loudly, Natalie considered the old gypsy woman. Love potion?
Surely there were stranger things in her life . . . and what could it
hurt? She pocketed the vial and grabbed her coat once more.
     "Thanks, Syd," she told the cat as she opened her apartment door.
"It's certainly worth a try."
     She stopped by the morgue and slipped in the back door. If she
was really going through with this, the least she could do would be to
test the potion for any substance known to be harmful to vampires. She
knew from experience the effect of simple garlic on Nick's system, and
he had told her about curare, as well. Whatever was in this stuff, she
didn't want to kill him.
     She spent over an hour running a chemical analysis on the liquid
and found nothing but herbal essences; no garlic or other noxious
substances. What good could a few herbs do? Heck, what *harm* could
they do? Natalie slipped out as quietly as she had come, and drove off
into the night.
     She parked in front of the loft warehouse and sat, fingering the
small bottle in her pocket and questioning her sanity. Love potion?
Hogwash! Well, if nothing else, the two of them could clear the air.
All she really wanted to do was talk. Taking a deep breath to fortify
herself, she got out of the car and rang the buzzer.

     Who would be disturbing him at this hour of the morning? Nick
didn't have enough energy or will left to bother with it. Continuing
to sit at the piano, he teased the keys with a simple tune of his own
creation. Soon chords joined the simple melody, and the music swelled
to fill the room.
     "It's beautiful." Her footsteps rang against the bare floor as
she walked across the room to where he sat. He hadn't even noticed the
elevator grinding upwards or the beat of her heart, so engrossed had
he been in the music. "I don't recognize the piece. Is it one of
yours?" She stood next to the piano, waiting for his response.
     Dropping his hands to his lap, he looked up at her. Candlelight
backlit her chestnut tresses, making it appear as though she were
wreathed in a halo of light. The sight of her took his breath away.
     "Natalie. . . ."
     "Shhh." She touched a finger lightly to his lips. "I came to
apologize." She had done a lot of thinking during the drive over to
the loft, and her anger had dissipated. It wasn't fair of her to
demand from him that which he could not give. It would be enough for
her if he would only admit to his feelings.
     "I'm the one who needs to apologize," he interrupted. "I don't
know exactly what I said or did that upset you, but whatever it was, I
don't want it to come between us. Nat, I value your friendship, and I
don't want to do anything that drives a wedge between us. Tell me what
I need to do to make this right."
     Natalie settled herself on the piano bench next to Nick. Resting
a hand on his lap, she noted the tenseness of his muscles. The soft
silk that separated her from him seemed an impenetrable barrier.
     "I know we can't be together, Nick. Not the way we want to. Not
until we find a cure for you. But, I was hoping you'd at least be
truthful with me. Tell me how you truly feel.
     "I love you, Nick. I need to know if that love is reciprocated."
     With the fluidity of motion peculiar to vampires, he slipped from
the piano bench and went to stand in front of the heavy steel blinds,
staring at them as though he could see through them to the light of
day. He raised a hand and lightly touched them with his fingers,
parting the them slightly to let a sliver of sunlight penetrate the
candlelit darkness of the room.
     The silence was deafening. Natalie felt as though she was going
to explode as she waited for his carefully considered response. "You
know that I care." The softly spoken words drifted across the room to
her waiting ears.
     Care? Care?! She was ready to walk out of his life right then and
there. It was as though they had picked up their argument right where
they'd left off at the precinct. As she stood, she noticed the goblet
perched serenely next to the music on the piano. One hand fell to her
pocket and the vial of red liquid. As Nick continued to stare at the
slit of sunlight, she pulled the tiny bottle from her pocket and
quickly tapped a few drops into his waiting drink. Picking up the
glass, she walked over to the window to stand next to him.
     "I know." She marshaled her anger and tried to speak calmly.
"But caring just isn't enough. I have to know if there's more. Do you
love me, or don't you?" 
     Nick cast his eyes down and lowered his hand, dropping the room
back into darkness. "I know it's not enough. I'm so sorry for all I've
put you though. . . . I want to love you." He paused, and in that
moment she held up the goblet and pressed it into his hand. Looking a
bit startled, he took the glass from her. Natalie had rarely ever
offered him anything besides those wretched protein shakes. He took a
cautious sip, his eyes never leaving her face. She stared back
intently, trying to see if she could detect a change in his demeanor.
     His face softened, and he set the glass down, drawing her into
his arms. "I *do* love you, Natalie Lambert." She melted into his
embrace, too stunned by the sudden revelation to resist. He swept her
up in his arms and carried her upstairs, capturing her mouth with
passionate kisses all the way.
     He laid her gently upon the red satin sheets -- sheets which no
longer seemed so cold and uninviting. Stretching out beside her, he
slowly began undressing her. 
     A part of her mind screamed that this was wrong, but the stronger
part wanted this too much to put a stop to it. His hands caressed her,
loved her. His lips devoured her, made her feel needed. His own needs
were rising, she could feel them as his body pressed firmly against
hers. 

* * *

     As they lay in a heap of tangled arms and legs, their passion
spent, Natalie began softly sobbing. She tried to stop, to quiet
herself before Nick became aware, but she was too late.
     "What's the matter, Love?" A soft hand brushed the hair from her
face, while a gentle thumb rubbed across her cheek, wiping the tear
away.
     "It's nothing," she sniffed, managing to bring the tears under
control.
     "I'm sorry, Nat. I'm so sorry." His hand brushed against her neck
where twin punctures were crusting over. "I couldn't control the urge
to bite. It's a great part of the intimacy of vampires. I didn't mean
to hurt you."
     "It wasn't that," Natalie assured him. "It was wonderful -- *you*
were wonderful. I've never experienced anything like that before."
     "Then tell me what I did to make you cry."
     The guilt in his voice tugged at her own, causing her to blush.
"It wasn't you. It's not your fault."
     "Then what is it?"
     "I just didn't want it to be this way." Natalie looked into his
eyes, now only barely flecked with the passionate gold she had seen
such a short time ago.
     "What was wrong with the way it was?" He was genuinely confused.
     "Nothing. Nothing, my Love," she soothed, placing a calming hand
against his cheek. "It was what I always dreamed it would be."
     "Then what's the matter? What's wrong?" 
     "It wasn't real," Natalie whispered, letting her hand drop to the
blanket.
     "It felt real enough to me." Nick smiled at her, and she felt a
warmth begin to build in the core of her being once more.
     "It was artificial," she clarified. "I . . . I drugged you."
     "Oh, you mean that bottle you tried to keep hidden? What was
that, some kind of love potion?" he quipped.
     Natalie sat up, startled. "How did you know about that?"
     "I heard you tap something into my drink, and I caught a glimpse
of the bottle when you slipped it back into your pocket. Besides," he
added, "the stuff smells vile."
     She grimaced at the thought of being caught in her subterfuge.
"But how did you know it was a love potion?"
     "I didn't, until now." His lopsided grin evoked a reluctant smile
from her. "*Where* did you get that stuff?"
     "From a gypsy fortune teller," Natalie admitted. "I didn't mean
to stop there. It was just a whim -- Tracy's idea, actually."
     "Tracy, hmmm? I'll have to have a talk with my *partner*
tonight," he mused. "And thank her." 
     "I never thought the potion would work! Not in a million years!"
Natalie sat back, embarrassed by the confession.
     Nick drew her back into his arms. "It didn't," he whispered as he
began nibbling her ear once more.
     "What do you mean, it didn't?" She pushed him away from her and
looked him squarely in the eyes.
     "Those concoctions don't work on vampires."
     "Then how . . . why. . . ."
     "Why did it seem to work?" He watched as she nodded, stunned into
silence by Nick's revelations.
     "Because I *wanted* it to. It gave me the excuse I needed to do
what I've wanted to do for nearly six years." 
     "But I thought you were afraid." A hand fluttered to the bite
marks on her neck. "Afraid of not being able to control yourself, of
not being able to control the *vampire*."
     "I *was* afraid," he confessed. "Terrified, in fact, but I was
more afraid of losing you." 
     Natalie's eyes lit with triumph. "I knew you had the control. All
you needed was a push."
     "I didn't have control -- you did. It was your blood, your love,
that allowed me to stop." He looked at her with gold-flecked eyes.
"Haven't we talked enough for one day?" He pulled her to him one more
time, kissing her with tender passion.
     Natalie abandoned herself to his love, thanking Marja for the
magic that had brought them together at last.

THE END

Nancy  --  nat1228@home.com
Knightie/NNPack/GWDFC/FMFC/FkN/FPO  
     "He was, as always, all business.  After all, there is
      nothing funny about fanfic." Sue Clark
http://members.home.net/nat1228/fkfanfic.htm