Let me begin by informing you what follows is a slash story. Let me continue by saying that no, I am still not partial to slash, but this little bit of fluff came to me while listening to Two Houses and I was compelled to write it. I have to dedicate it to Ryoko who put the idea into my head in the first place, as well as Diana R. & Elaine W. who are corrupting influences at the best of times anyways ;)

Also, be warned that I did not take the time to either research or proofread for grammatical errors <though I did use the spell checker> It is much too nice a day to worry about details like that.

This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. No infringement of any copyrights held by Due South c/o Alliance is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story.

Black Cat Romance
(by Catalina Dudka - Copyright 1998)

Dear Diary:

After all the trouble I had tracking down that Ouija board, to say nothing of staying up all night, trying to make some kind of contact with the spirits from beyond to request their aid, and there was no response. I am despondent. I don't know how much longer I can stand it, admiring him from afar. I have tried so hard to attract his attention but to no avail. He didn't even smile back. I won't give up yet, there are a few more things I can try.

Alright, so performing the ritual under the full moon at midnight, in the middle of the park, in the nude had not been a good idea. Not only because there were a lot more people around than I expected for that particular time of night, but how was I to know I'm allergic to cat scratches. The ointment seems to be doing it's work. Thank God. It was also disappointing that it didn't work. The spell that is. He looked right through me today, as usual. Oh well, maybe I'll have better luck with the next item on my list.

How could I have forgotten my sunscreen. I really should know better, and have only myself to blame for not remembering to put on my SPF 30 lotion, then dancing under a full sun in a day when the UV count was 4. What an idiot I am. My only excuse is that he just drives me insane.

Note: I also seem to be allergic to feathers. I hope that ointment works fast, this time the hives are on my face.

Once more I have failed. I am at a loss as to where I went wrong. I followed Madame -------'s instructions to the letter, at least I think I did, and not only did the Voudun charm not have any effect, but I made a mess out my uniform. I just hope the dry cleaner can take care of that awful stain. I'm not sure if I can rally myself up again just to deal with another failure. Maybe I should face reality, I haven't got a chance with him.

"Turnbull!!"

My heart does a little dance at the sound of his voice. After quickly placing some files on top of my diary, I look up eager to see him again. "Yes, Detective? How can I help you?"

"Where's Fraser?"

"I believe he's had to accompany Inspector Thatcher to the airport."

"Oh yeah. I forgot, that delegation is coming in today."

"That's right, Detective. The Western Premiers will be arriving shortly to begin the NAFTA ..."

"Yeah. Whatever. Tell Fraser to call me."

"Yes Sir. Good bye."

He waves at me as he turns away, and I'm treated to the wonderful sight of his backside. He always looks so attractive in black. I especially admire the denim /leather combination. Hmmmm.... I wonder if Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski enjoys discipline?

The End

My thanks to Paul Gross, whose song "Voodoo" was the inspiration of this little bit of madness ;)