Thanks to Dee, Perri, Lizbet, Cath, and Courtney (especially Courtney, who insisted on knowing what happened to Nick) for beta'ing and major encouragement all the way through writing EXILES and this follow-up.

Loose Ends
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1998

* * * * <*>

I.

He had thought it might be difficult, or almost impossible, but with the cover provided by the crowd of mortals around him, the lone vampire had found a spot high above the outdoor rink that was perfect. He could watch his quarry without being seen or sensed from his vantage point atop the nearby building; and there was little danger of his being discovered, perched as he was on the ledge of the roof, hiding in the shadows of the neon sign.

It was half an hour past twilight, and the nip in the air had deepened into a definite chill. All the skaters below him were warmly dressed, some in thick layers of scarves and gloves and coats, other opting to keep moving fast enough to ward off the cold. Strings of small gold, pink, and red lights looped around the arena, giving the park a festive air, despite the fact that New Year's was over a month gone. The watching vampire hunched into his black trenchcoat, aware that he'd be considered underdressed, were there anyone present to comment on his attire. Something to remedy, if he stayed in Chicago for any length of time. He'd have to get another coat if he were going to blend into the winter populace.

He wasn't sure if it was going to be necessary to try to blend. Not yet, anyway.

Far below him, four stories down, mortals twirled and slid across the ice in quick-changing patterns. A group of small children played tag in one corner, while would-be Olympic medallists held the center of the rink hostage, performing complicated arabesques and jumps, showing off to each other and the spectators huddled under the pavilion. Mothers chatted over steaming Styrofoam cups of coffee, and a handful of determined adolescents raced each other around the rink in grim competition.

So much variety, so many flavors of humanity; all of it fascinating, and compelling in a way that would depress him if he thought about it too long. Families; lovers; friends. All the things he was separated from, could not have, from which he was set apart. There had been a time when he had passed among them unnoticed, mimicking the semblance of mortality, and but for the presence of one woman on the ice he could have resumed that charade tonight. But she was here; more, she was *why* he was here, why he'd given up on pretending to be human for the last two years. If he walked into the pavilion and stood at the edge of the rink, she would know he was there almost instantly.

And then? he asked himself. What would she do?

He didn't know.

The man calling himself Nicholas Boyar sighed, releasing his breath into cold air that refused to steam with the exhalation. All of the circling figures below had retreated from his awareness the second that one woman had stepped onto the ice. Even among the extreme bustle and confusion below him, he could follow the path of two figures around the other skaters with ease. Their erratic progress was accomplished in spurts and stops, both of the two mortals laughing and maintaining a shaky equilibrium compromised by their joined hands.

She seemed to be enjoying herself. Well, what did you expect? he asked himself silently. That she'd be sunk in depression? That her life would have stopped when you left? His last memory of Natalie Lambert was of a tear-streaked face pleading with him to stay, her voice raised in furious disbelief; the delighted smile she now wore seemed to belong to a different person. Hungrily, he watched every flit of emotion across her face: the hilarity at her own attempts to skate; the widened eyes and mock fear as she and her partner almost crashed into some of the speed skaters; the concentration as she practiced skating backwards, fingers clutching her companion's steadying hands.

I can't believe it's only been two years. It had seemed like eternity. She hadn't changed. Not enough to notice, not really. The brown curls had a few more threads of grey, and the laugh lines (and lines of pain, he admitted to himself) were deeper, but no more numerous. She was still Natalie, who he'd loved, and hurt horrendously, and had to leave. Because if he'd stayed, he would have killed her.

And now he watched her from afar, pain twisting inside him like a coiling spring, gathering strength the longer he stayed. Jealousy, love, guilt, concern, curiosity, all these emotions rising in intensity after feeling nothing but gray self-loathing and anger for far too long. Nicholas almost welcomed it, could almost be grateful for the pain, because the pleasure of seeing her again was just as deep. Are you all right? She spun around her partner, who swung her around in a wide circle, momentum building as they giddily increased their speed. Nat... It was more than he'd ever hoped for, to see her again so soon, looking so well.

But not alone. He'd always imagined her alone, or in her apartment with Sidney, for some reason. As familiar and lovely as the sight of Natalie was, the presence of the other at her side was jarringly dissonant. The vampire could only look at him in quick glances, because the urge to move closer, confront the interloper, demand explanations he knew he didn't deserve---all rose up inescapably, the longer he watched her with the stranger.

I can't talk to you, Nick silently told the woman he'd loved, whose life he had smashed through and then fled. Not yet. Soon. I have to... I owe you that. I owe you a second chance, if you still want one. She spun away from her partner, her laughter drifting upward to the man watching her, who closed his eyes at the sound, overwhelmed. I have to make it up to you, somehow. Fix my mistakes, apologize... or at least see if you need anything. Maybe you don't want to see me. You should hate me.... If she did, he would find out; and he'd stay away.

And if she didn't ....

Natalie. I missed you so much....

II.

"I still find it difficult to believe that you never learned to ice skate. It's one of the most common sports in Canada---"

"I did learn. It just didn't stay with me, that's all---i t's been a long - whoa! - time," Natalie Lambert panted, smiling triumphantly at her companion as she completed a full spin on her own. "But it's coming back to me."

"Uh-hunh." No one not looking for it could read any doubt in either Benton Fraser's expression or his tone; but Natalie had grown adept at interpreting her boyfriend's most deadpan looks.

"It is! Watch this---"

"Natalie," Fraser said in alarm. "Really, this isn't ne--- watch out!"

"Ow!" The M.E. tottered, unbalanced by the glancing impact of one of the smaller skaters with her legs; teetered, wildly flailing from side to side, trying to stay on her feet; and smacked into the ice with a thump! as her feet slid out from under her, landing her on her butt. "Owwwwww," she moaned, shaking her head in disgust. "Ow. Well, okay. So I didn't have that much to forget...."

The Mountie's mouth twitched very slightly as he held out his hands and hauled Natalie to her feet, but his voice was concerned and sincere. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. I *will* get this."

"I know."

"And then you'd better look out, Benny."

"I already am."

"Because when I get this, I'm skating rings around you, you know that."

"I don't doubt it for a moment."

Natalie opened her mouth to continue ranting, and caught the glimmer of laughter in Ben's eyes. "Ooooooo. You think this is funny?"

"Absolutely not."

"You do think it's funny, you big goof---"

"Natalie, if you would just relax and practice the simpler moves, you'd gain greater mastery with less effort---"

"What's the fun in that?" Natalie grinned and wrapped her arms around his middle, forcing him to hang onto her to retain his own balance. Fraser steadied them both as he slowly skated backwards, his arms around Natalie's shoulders.

"You may have a point." The Mountie smiled at his skating partner, silently marveling that they had been together for over four months now, and that the sight of her laughing could still make his heart stutter and his breath speed like nothing else. In the world. Ever.

Nat tightened her arms around Ben and leaned against him a little, careful of her feet stepping in between his as a slower song played over the speakers surrounding the rink. Fraser drew her closer, refraining from speech as they slowly moved over the ice, not wanting to shatter the moment. He almost regretted that he hadn't picked up the ring from Ray's cousin yet. Now would have been a perfect moment to ask her to marry him.

No, if she said no in public it would be worse. She'd be embarrassed, and that would make it that much harder to talk to her. Proposing to Natalie wasn't a matter of easy assurance, of reaching a point in their relationship where marriage was the accepted next step. On the contrary; while Fraser was certain of their feelings for each other, there were many questions about the future that were still unsettled. Where they were going to live, whether they would be together if he received a posting away from Chicago, what their lives would be like---they went around and around their options, and never reached any truly satisfactory conclusions.

The one thing he was sure about was that events had progressed to a point where he couldn't not ask. Certainly, there would always be difficulties to be overcome, and possibly disagreements to be resolved which might involve some compromises. But he didn't want to face those challenges with any woman other than Natalie, and couldn't conceive of ever wanting that to change.

Whether Nat would see it that way was something else entirely. He hoped she would say yes--- hoped that his Valentine's Day surprise would be a happy one, something that she'd agree to immediately--- but he was prepared for her refusal. She might raise many very logical objections; might say that she wasn't ready yet. He could handle that possibility. Which did not mean that he'd accept it....

"Earth to Ben, come in spaceman Ben."

Fraser blinked and reflexively pulled her closer, forcing both of them to slow down as they rounded a curve of the rink. "Sorry. I was thinking about Valentine's Day."

"Oh yes? Anything in particular?" Natalie asked, raising her eyebrows. "I thought we promised not to make a really huge deal out of this holiday---"

"We did," Ben agreed, glancing over her head to the pavilion behind her. "And I'm not. But..."

"But?" Natalie teased, her smile widening.

"I might have a *small* surprise for you. It is the anniversary of when we met, after all."

"How could I possibly forget? I'd been wondering about you for weeks."

"Did you really? Wonder about me, I mean?" Fraser asked, trying to sound only curious. He could tell Natalie wasn't fooled, because the warmth in her eyes deepened into tenderness, and he felt her fingers dig into the back of his jacket.

"Please! A Mountie who kept a wolf in Chicago--- if I hadn't been so worried about Sidney, I would have visited you weeks before that." She sighed, and Fraser hugged her closer. Natalie's striped tabby had succumbed to old age right before Christmas, and he knew she still missed him sometimes. "We should get Dief a treat, something special, as a thank-you present for introducing us."

"As long as it doesn't have chocolate sprinkles on it."

"I think that can be arranged." Natalie's mischievous smile made Fraser sigh long-sufferingly, knowing that something equally bad for Diefenbaker would be wrapped up in gold ribbon and presented to the wolf with as much ceremony as possible. He kissed her lightly on the mouth, grateful to be with her, hoping to distract her, suddenly remembering what life was like before her.

It was as they were unlacing their skates that Fraser noticed Natalie suddenly stiffen, her fingers ceasing to untie her skates, her face hidden behind a curtain of hair. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She began to loosen her skates again, not looking at him. Her voice sounded odd, and Fraser tensed in reflexive worry, studying her closely. Natalie raised her head, then laughed a little breathlessly, her eyes large and weary. "Okay, not nothing, but you can relax. I'm sure it isn't a problem...."

"What isn't?"

"There's a vampire somewhere in the crowd," she replied in a very low voice. Ben's gut clenched at her words, and he automatically began scanning the people surrounding them, looking for---what? Obvious menace? The lone element out of place? Natalie frowned at his response, touching him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Hey. Let it go. It isn't important."

"You don't know that."

"There's no reason to worry," she replied evenly. "They don't want anything with us, Benny." Natalie grinned looking rueful. "They'd just as soon forget I know about them, if they could. And we can't do anything about them. Nothing that wouldn't cost us more than we want to lose, anyway." She stared at him soberly, then quietly added, "That part of my life is over. For good. It'll never touch us again."

He returned her gaze, letting himself slowly relax, then nodded. "I know." His head knew that there was no reason to worry, that the creatures she had studied for six years had no real reason to hurt them; but his heart wasn't capable of listening to reason. As long as they existed, he would be aware that they were a threat. To them. To her. "I'll try not to let it worry me."

"Good." Nat's eyes were wide and serious. She reached out and stroked his cheek, her lips pressing together tightly. "Nothing," she vowed, "not vampires, or paranormal weirdness, or anything else, is going to keep us apart. From now on, there's nothing that can hurt us."

He didn't argue with her, just kissed her fingers, then leaned forward to bestow a light kiss on her lips. I hope that translates into accepting my proposal two days from now. And if it doesn't--- well, we'll have the time. Someday, you'll say yes. Since I'm never going to ask another woman to marry me--and I'm not letting anyone else get the chance to ask you....

But Fraser couldn't stop himself from looking around one last time before they left the rink, searching the faces around him for traces of the terrifying darkness he'd seen one night last year; and his arm encircled Natalie shoulders all the way back to her car.

III.

"Good morning, Ray. How is your day going?"

Vecchio eyed his best friend sourly, and gestured at the pile of paperwork on his desk, and the prisoner cuffed to the nearby filing cabinet. "I've had better. Say hello to Sergeant Fraser, Georgie."

"That's Cupid, the God of Love, to you, bozo." The well-muscled young man wearing only wings and a loincloth folded his arms and glared at the homicide detective, who returned the look with narrowed eyes and a shake of his head. "Do you know how many couples are right now suffering because you have me enchained here? Dozens! I have important appointments to keep, you know---"

"Stuff it."

"Ray, do I want to know---?"

"No, you do not."

"He has a grudge against me because he can't get a date on Valentine's Day." The erstwhile Eros recounted this fact with glee, sparking a blaze of fury in his arresting officer that caused Ray to shout in the younger man's face.

"You were caught stealing purses from the wedding shower where you were stripping! It has nothing to do with my social life, so will you quit saying that to everyone who walks by!" Ray lowered his head into his hands, grumbling unintelligibly under his breath, while Fraser thoughtfully fingered his Stetson and kept his gaze from meeting his friend's. "I hate Valentine's Day. Hate it. All the weirdos come out, almost as bad as Halloween. Did you know that it lands on a full moon this year?"

"Actually---"

"Of course you did. You always know obscure weirdness." Ray sighed and raised his head, noting the mixture of embarrassment and worry on the Mountie's face for the first time. "What?" Fraser opened his mouth to explain, but light dawned in the frustrated recesses of Vecchio's brain before his friend had to explain. "Oh, right. Damn, Benny, sorry, I forgot what day it was. The ring."

"I hate to bother you," Benny said in an anxious voice, "but you did say your cousin would have completed it by now, and I was hoping... but perhaps I should come back at a better time---"

Ray reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small white satin box, holding it out to the Canadian with a grin. The Mountie took it with unseemly haste, almost snatching the tiny box out of Ray's hand. Carefully he opened it, and Fraser let out a sigh of relief and admiration when he finally saw the small ring nestled within. "It's perfect, Ray. Your cousin Carla does very fine work."

"Yeah, she's got a gift. She got the stones for cost, too, so it's less than we thought it was going to be." Two small gold hearts twined together along a gold band, with a string of diamond chips tracing the edges where the hearts twisted together. Ray looked at the jewelry critically and added, "Carla said to tell you she wants to use your design again, if you don't mind. She thought it might sell pretty well, and she'd be able to knock a little more off the price for you in exchange."

"Of course. She's been extremely understanding about the financial arrangements as it is. I'm certainly not going to haggle over details." Fraser smiled and snapped the box shut decisively. "Thank her for me, will you, please? I may not be able to go by her shop for a while."

"Sure thing." Ray smiled back at Benny, who swallowed and turned the box over and over in his hands. "So this is it. This weekend. You're finally gonna do it."

"Yes." Just thinking about it seemed to make Fraser tense, a muscle in his jaw flexing unconsciously as he stared at the trinket box.

"You're going to propose on Valentine's Day? That's beautiful, you know that? I am moved, man," Cupid commented, and Ray rolled his eyes, yelling for a patrolman to get his prisoner into a holding cell. Fraser stepped aside while the erstwhile cherub was escorted away, and Ray noticed that his friend's expression seemed troubled and uneasy; not the picture of a confident lover about to pop the big question.

"Benny? Are you all right? You look like you've got a migraine."

"Oh, yes, Ray. I'm ... fine. Simply rehearsing my proposal. I don't want to forget everything I have to say." Fraser frowned, his brows bunching up as he concentrated, and Ray laughed.

"Will you relax? Sheesh. I bet five bucks you don't even get the words out before she says 'yes', so stop torturing yourself. You have nothing to worry about."

"While that's a flattering assessment, I'm not sure it's entirely accurate.... Natalie may have some understandable reservations on the subject, and I think it's premature to assume that---"

"Fraser...! Just shut up already. She loves you. You love her. You've been living together for going on what--- three months? And you haven't killed each other yet?"

"Well, no..."

"And do we both agree that Natalie is one of the smartest women we know?"

"The smartest. Possibly excepting your mother."

"Thank you on behalf of my Ma." Ray leaned back in his chair and shrugged, a small half-smile on his face. "There you go, then. She'll give the obvious answer."

"I hope so." The Mountie still looked uncertain, much to Ray's mingled exasperation and amusement. He finally finds the girl of his dreams and it's too good for him to believe it. Jeezzzz... I'm gonna have to steer him to the altar, if he's going to be this wound up when they get married.

"Benny, look at me." Fraser did so, and Vecchio opened his eyes wide and spoke very slowly. "It's... in... the ... bag. Calm... down. You'll... do... fine."

Fraser's mouth twitched, and he seemed to lose some of his nervousness as he nodded. "Thank you, Ray." He fingered the box, then smiled genuinely, letting out a small sigh. "For everything. I know that if Nat accepts, that things between us will change a bit---"

"What's going to change? Is the Doc suddenly going to be your backup on the weird cases you pick up in the supermarket?"

"We only did that once, Ray."

"Twice. Are you going to be working with someone else on the Canadian cases? Will I have to depend on someone else for help with the bizarre ones I get?"

"You know that won't happen."

"Am I still gonna be your best friend that isn't a woman?"

"Definitely. Well, except for Diefenbaker."

Ray muttered under his breath, and glared at the smiling Mountie. "All right. Then nothing important is going to change. Nat's smart, she loves you, and she likes me. What's more, I like her. She can't play basketball for peanuts, but she's pretty cool anyway. This is gonna work, Benny. Trust me."

"I do. I will. Thank you again, Ray. I have to be going now, Inspector Thatcher is expecting me." Fraser put his hat on, and added, "Dief has graciously agreed to step aside as Best Man, if Natalie accepts, by the way. He thinks you'll look better in a tux."

"He's right," Ray shot at Fraser's retreating back, then chuckled quietly as his friend left the squadroom.

Nick detached himself from the crowd by the watercooler, his eyes still fixed on Ray Vecchio as his real prey left the building. He still remembered enough police protocol to 'pass' as an official visitor to the 27th, and subtle maneuvering had allowed him to overhear most of the conversation between Sergeant Benton Fraser and Detective Vecchio. Best friends, partners... The Italian would know most of what he wanted to find out about Benton Fraser. It was just a matter of getting him alone, with no other distractions, and asking him a few questions.

Justifying his presence in Chicago, given the risks if he were recognized, would require some very fast talking if the local vampire community learned he was here. He hadn't died in any public way here in this city ten years ago; he'd simply lost touch with his acquaintances from that life as Nicholas Forrester. But a decade was still a long time, and he hadn't aged, which would mean messy explanations---definitely to his old friends, and then possibly the Enforcers.

None of it seemed to matter. Even the fact that Nick knew what he was doing would infuriate Natalie if she ever found out didn't make any difference. He had to know she was okay; had to know what kind of man she was involved with, if she truly loved him, or was merely consoling herself with the first mortal who came along. He *needed* to do this, stupid as it was. Maybe Nat would consider it an invasion of her life, scream at him and tell him to leave again, but not before he'd discovered everything he could about what had happened in her life in the last two years.

Ever since he'd left her, his own life had been a shadowy, quiet landscape devoid of any kind of feeling. Flat. Colorless. Like his paintings since Toronto; like his soul. It was all his fault, really. He could have returned to the Beast, become what LaCroix wanted, killed and fed until he felt something again. Or he could have attacked his quest for mortality with renewed vigor, since the one true cure he knew of was forever denied to him, and let his need to be human carry him past the frozen place in his heart where Natalie used to be.

Nick hadn't been able to bear either option.

He hadn't lived for the last two years. He'd existed; drank and slept and tried to paint, tried to work with his music; withdrawn into solitude on the other side of the world, as far away from Natalie as he could get. There was the attempt to live at the monastery in China... but that had ended in failure. Like most of the things he tried.

Like what he and Natalie had tried....

The vampire clamped down, hard, on that line of thought, and followed Ray Vecchio into a nearby interrogation room. The detective looked up from his files with an annoyed expression, clearly expecting someone else. Before he could voice an objection, though, Nick closed the door behind him, and stepped forward, listening to the man's heartbeat. "I need to talk with you. And you need to answer my questions... Is that understood?"

"Understood," the cop replied in a hollow voice, and the man who used to be known as Nick Knight smiled quietly, without any joy or amusement.

"Good. Tell me everything you know about your friend, Benton Fraser...."

IV.

Friday the 13th. Fraser wasn't superstitious; attaching significance to a date that meant nothing to him personally would be both unreasonable and a waste of energy. But Friday the 13th meant that tomorrow was Saturday the 14th; February 14th, Valentine's Day. The day he planned on proposing to Natalie. Twenty-four hours away... unless he lost patience and asked her as soon as she got home.

He glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how much longer it would be until her extra shift ended, and trying to decide if she would be in anything like the right mood to receive a proposal of marriage when she returned. Probably not... fourteen-hour shifts wear her out. And it's a holiday, and a Friday, and... He would be patient. The Mountie grimaced, and flipped the white jewel box shut on the counter, sighing and exchanging a rueful look with Diefenbaker. "I wish she hadn't taken the extra shift tonight. I know she was doing one of her colleagues a favor, but her timing could have been better...." Dief woofed softly in response, cocking his head at Fraser, who shrugged defensively. "That was different, Constable Pierson hadn't had time off in months---" Another woof, what might have been a lupine chuckle, and then the wolf settled his head down on his paws. "Perhaps. But I still wish she was already home."

Home. Strange; the apartment was still more Natalie's than his, she was paying more of the rent, the furniture reflected her taste rather than his own, and yet he couldn't imagine going back to his apartment on West Racine any more than he could imagine wearing another uniform to work, or having a partner other than Ray. The transition from seeing Natalie every day to living with her, had happened so gradually that he'd only finished moving the last of his possessions into her place a month ago--- even though it had started with the toothbrush she bought for him their first weekend together in September. Yet one more reason to get married; they were all but married in everything but name as it was...

"Natalie, I feel that this is something that both of us are ready for, and I would be both deeply honored and incredibly happy if you would consent... no, agree. Agree. Agree to marry me and share the rest of our lives together. I know there are many logical objections to this course of action, but I have thought about this carefully, and I honestly believe that this will only bring us closer together..." Fraser frowned, running through the speech in his mind, wondering if he should start out with the speech, or wait for the inevitable objections and then refute Nat's points with his prepared rebuttal. He opened the box again, stared at the ring, then shut it and drummed his fingers on the counter.

The knock on the door came as a welcome distraction. "Hello?" Fraser called, going to the door and peering through the peephole, his hand reaching for the locks as he tried to get a good look at his visitor.

"Hello? Is this the Lambert residence?"

The Mountie frowned, his hand stilling on the locks as he tried to remember where he'd seen the visitor before. Blond, mid-thirties, pale skin over fine features... Mental alarms rang, sending a chill over his skin for no reason he could classify. "Yes, it is," he said cautiously, not opening the door. "I'm afraid Dr. Lambert isn't in right now. Does she know you?"

"I'm an old friend. I was actually hoping to speak with her tonight..."

He opened the door and stared at the man standing on Natalie's doorstep, tension radiating from him in waves. Benton could almost feel the man's nervousness, and the anticipatory mood he'd been struggling with melted into wary apprehension. Something... something about this man; an instant dislike, a wish to dismiss him...

"Do I know you?" Fraser asked, and in the act of asking, recognized the stranger as he turned his head. Natalie had pictures of him; not many, but a few, from Toronto, in group pictures from her last job....

Nick Knight.

He froze, eyes narrowing as he stared at the man--- vampire--- who had made Natalie's life so difficult and painful two years ago. The urge to slam the door was overwhelming, even though Fraser knew it would be pointless. He would just come back later; possibly when Natalie was there.... Equally strong was the irrational, uncharacteristic impulse to throttle the intruder, to end the threat to Natalie's safety that had somehow shown up on her doorstep, against all common sense and Natalie's expectations. What is he *doing* here? God, how did he find Nat...

Diefenbaker growled at the visitor, his hackles rising, pressed hard against the Mountie's side in a gesture of defense. Knight glanced at the wolf, then away, quickly. "You have a loyal dog."

"He's a wolf." Speaking broke the spell of shock, and he swallowed, managing to keep his voice even with a super-human effort. "Please state your business with Natalie."

"It's not exactly business." Knight's voice was light, calm, his expression opaque as he studied Fraser. "I was hoping to catch Natalie in, is all. Will she be home at a decent hour, or should I come back tomorrow?"

"She isn't due back soon." The thought of Knight returning tomorrow evening forced Fraser to clench the doorframe tightly; the intensity of conflicting emotions the man aroused were impossible to completely ignore, or hide. Fear, rage, jealousy, a wish to protect Natalie, an insane wish to make Knight just disappear--- "Whom should I say dropped by? Maybe she can give you a call during the day." That was petty, he thought as soon as the words left his mouth, and Knight's eyes became more shadowed.

"Nick. Just tell her... Nick wanted to talk with her. In person." He started to turn away. "I'll call before I drop by next time---"

"Nick Knight," Fraser said deliberately. Knight whirled around, his expression open and readable for the first time during their encounter: shock, speculation, and hope flared in quick succession. The Mountie pushed back growing fear at the sight of the eagerness on Knight's face.

"She mentioned me?"

"Yes. She did." She cried on my shoulder about you after a meeting with the woman you loved and lied to her about. Ben stared at Nick Knight, his fingers itching with the desire to strangle him. How *dare* you come back here... "Why are you here?"

Knight stared back at him, his blue gaze cooling into cautious assessment. He seemed to come to a decision suddenly, smiling in what was obviously supposed to be a charming manner that grated along Fraser's nerves. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

The wind blew cold across the rooftop lounge, but Sergeant Fraser hadn't been willing to invite him into Natalie's apartment, and Nick had decided not to push the man. He was clearly unhappy with Nick's presence on Natalie's doorstep already, stiff and rigid with dislike he probably thought he was hiding. The vampire wondered what Nat had told him about himself, then dismissed the question as unimportant. Whatever she had told him, Natalie never betrayed a confidence; at most, she might have mentioned their relationship, and told Fraser that Nick had left her. Which would be more than enough to justify the man's dislike, even were he not the jealous or possessive type.

That explains why he dislikes you. Nick grimaced to himself, feeling his brows descend in irritation. You don't have his excuses....

Sergeant Fraser ("Benton") seemed perfectly intelligent, polite, correct; and rigid, controlled, and cold. *This* was the man Natalie was living with? This man was Ray Vecchio's closest friend? Why? What does she *see* in him? Nick glanced at Fraser and felt his teeth itch. Aside from the obvious, of course. Which was patently unfair to Natalie; she would never be so shallow as to fall for someone's looks. But it irked him; of all the men Natalie could have chosen, why had she picked a chiseled-faced, emotionless cardboard cut-out... You don't know him. Get a hold of yourself. You won't learn anything if he senses you dislike him as much as he dislikes you. He couldn't possibly love Natalie the way she needed; but maybe she didn't want that anymore, maybe she was looking for safety and security, for square-jawed reassurance rather than warmth. Maybe he loved her as much as he was capable of, in his controlled, guarded fashion.

Stifling his aggravation, Nick leaned against the ledge surrounding the roof, smiling coolly at Fraser. "So, how is Nat these days? Is she enjoying her work with Cook County?"

"She's fine." Crossed arms, steely eyes, feet braced apart; Sergeant Fraser's voice was calm but everything else about him screamed of an intent to intimidate. "She's been promoted to the Head Assistant's position."

"Really. That's great." He nodded consideringly, then delicately went on, hoping to provoke some reaction from the reserved Mountie that would give him a clue to his and Natalie's relationship. "I'm glad to hear it. She's an excellent pathologist. One of the best. I always admired her dedication to her work." A muscle flexed in Fraser's jaw, but he remained silent as Nick smiled insincerely, watching him closely. "She probably told you we were close friends. Very close... I was sorry she'd left Toronto when I returned, so I thought I'd look her up when I found myself in Chicago. I haven't heard from her in the last two years, and I wanted to see how she was doing."

"Where did you go when you left Toronto?"

"Japan." Nick shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, trying to bury the loneliness that surged up at the memory of his arrival in the Orient; knowing no one, desperately aching for Nat, guilt and fear and hopelessness eating at him daily, but knowing that he didn't deserve the easy out of a quick death. "I was studying some new archaeological finds there... It was a very sudden change in plans. I didn't have time to come back before now."

"It's a long way from Toronto." Fraser's eyes were alive with emotion, something cooler than hate or rage; curiosity, possibly, or speculation.

"Yes. It is." He stared out over the rooftops, feeling the full distance between the last time he'd seen Natalie and this evening. There was nothing there but a series of empty nights, of endless re-playings of his mistakes. Nothing there to take the place of the love he'd abandoned.

"You couldn't have called?" Nick's head came up in surprise. Fraser was angry; the coldness in his blue eyes condemned Nick for selfishly cutting himself off from Natalie, not knowing that it was for Nat's own good. Understandable; probably a reflection of Natalie's feelings about him, which hurt. The frisson of anger visible on the Mountie's face was the first indication of any deep feeling that Nick had had from Fraser; maybe the man *did* care about her. A sickening feeling of dread stole through him at that thought, and he concentrated on Fraser's words in order to repress it. "I know she would have liked some warning before you arrived. As well as wanting to know that you were okay at some point in the last two years." The man very visibly debated saying anything more, then settled for, "She was worried about you," his voice tightly, rigidly emotionless.

Guilt, hope, pain--- all bloomed in a small explosion inside of him upon hearing Fraser admit that Nat had thought of him. He drew an unsteady breath, unused to feeling anything at all for so long; suddenly feeling the well of conflicting emotions that Natalie had always inspired and welcoming the uneasy sensations in the midst of his wary concern. Until he realized that the Mountie was watching him minutely, as minutely as he'd studied the mortal moments before, looking for a reaction to his words.

Rage directed at the icily detached Fraser brought him to his feet, stalking over to the other man with momentarily murderous intent, which receded into annoyed anger before he'd gone two steps. The interview wasn't going as he'd hoped; the Mountie was pushing his buttons, instead of the other way around. Subtlety was not going to give him the information he needed: the key to finding out Natalie's feelings for Fraser, and whatever emotions she still felt for him.

Coldly, he stared into the Mountie's clear eyes, listening to the man's rock-steady heartbeat. "Listen to me. You want to answer my questions truthfully. You want to tell me what I need to know---"

The facade of calm cracked; pure righteous fury blazed across Fraser's face. "Forget it, Knight. That won't work on me. It never has before and it won't now! You'll have to *ask* me what you want to know, instead of hypnotizing or tricking it out of me. But you might as well know that I'll die before I let you hurt Natalie again."

V.

"She told you... ?" Knight's whisper of shock was barely audible over the wind. Fraser was already regretting his thoughtless reaction to the vampire's attempt to hypnotize him. He should have pretended to be mesmerized, both for his safety and Natalie's. And now the chance to find out more about Knight's purpose in Chicago, without revealing his knowledge of the man's secret, was gone.

"She didn't have much choice."

"I can't believe...." The stricken expression on Knight's face was that of a betrayed child, and he shook his head in numb denial. "Why? Why would Nat tell you what I was?" Hurt was giving way to anger, Fraser could see it in Knight's eyes, but bewilderment seemed to still be the vampire's strongest emotion.

"The plague that hit Toronto last winter resurfaced here in May. Due to events entirely outside her control, Natalie was the only person capable of dealing with the emergency." The Mountie could hear the defensiveness in his voice, and strove to temper it with matter-of-fact calm. "During the crisis, I became aware of the existence of ... your kind; Natalie explained the details to me after the danger had passed."

"God. Poor Nat. What a mess for her to have to cope with..."

The Mountie glanced at Nicholas Knight in surprise, hearing genuine sympathy and concern in the man's voice; then he reminded himself of the half-dozen ways in which the vampire had injured Natalie, and hardened his heart. He turned away, slowly pacing out the length of the rooftop, stopping in one of the circles of light cast by the lounge floodlamps.

"She didn't get hurt during any of this, did she?"

Fraser's clenched his elbows as he turned back to the other man. Knight's worry appeared unfeigned, his troubled blue eyes studying Fraser with a hidden plea for reassurance. "No," he said quietly. "Frightened, threatened, and overwhelmed, possibly. But not hurt. I and... a friend of mine, went along with Natalie to watch her back as soon as we realized what was happening. I'm not sure we were of much assistance, but I can assure you that she wasn't harmed."

"Thank God for that, at least," Knight whispered. His eyes closed and he rubbed at his forehead, his expression pained. "I had no idea... Hell. It never stops." Bitterness seeped into his voice. "From the minute we met, I put her in danger. I thought that leaving would at least end it...."

"You were wrong."

Fraser and Nick stared at each other, the animosity between them out in the open, each trying to take the other's measure, aware that their first impressions were far from completely accurate. The Mountie swallowed hard, his fingers digging into his arms as he returned the vampire's stare. "Why did you come back now? What do you want with Nat?"

Nick scrutinized the Mountie, noting the speeding pulse almost absently as he tried to read the man's expression. A small amount of anger, a burning need to know; and fear underneath both, tainting the mortal's composed stance with an adrenaline-inspired tension that seemed to have little to do with fear of Nick himself. All of his concern was for Natalie, and the threat posed by the vampire in front of him.

He didn't know what to make of Benton Fraser. The man coolly admitted to helping Nat during a situation that would have most normal mortals running for the door in gibbering fear; treated the existence of vampires as established fact unworthy of amazement; and had the gall to insult Nick to his face, despite knowing what Knight might be capable of. It was staggering. The last time a mortal had acted so calmly around him, it had been Natalie, watching him drink blood out of a plastic bag. By all rights, Fraser should have thought Natalie was insane when she started talking about vampires. Either the man had no imagination at all, or....

"You're taking all of this very calmly," Nick commented, avoiding answering the Mountie's question. "No questions? No curiosity about the undead?" He smiled humorlessly, his voice becoming light and slightly mocking, although most of his mockery was for himself. "That's... unusual, to say the least. You must have nerves of steel, Sergeant Fraser."

"They've gotten stronger from being around Nat," Fraser riposted, his eyes never leaving Nick's. "Things tend to happen around her that require a certain amount of flexibility."

"I see."

"You still haven't answered my question."

Nick shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and turned away from the Canadian, feeling the breeze play with his hair as he gazed out over the street. "It's not an easy question to answer."

A few steps, crunching gravel beneath Fraser's feet as he approached, and then the man stopped, just out of arms' reach. "I don't want you to hurt her again." A rock-hard, implacable voice; not quite a threat, but ready to become one, if necessary.

"Neither do I," Nick said tonelessly. "I never wanted to...."

"It happened fairly often for something you were trying to avoid."

Knight flinched. "Did she tell you that?"

"Not... precisely. Not in so many words," Fraser said reluctantly. "She told me about the night you left, though."

"That was a mistake."

"Which? Trying to become mortal? Or leaving her after you almost killed her?"

The vampire didn't move, didn't twitch, didn't seem to have heard Fraser's angry accusation, simply sat motionless on the ledge of the roof, his face an unreadable mask. Alien. Cold. The shifts from intense emotion to cool detachment were jarring, making it impossible for Fraser to guess at what was going through the man's mind. Maybe there wasn't any way to figure it out. Perhaps Natalie was right, that vampires were just too different from humans to be predictable in any human terms.

But this man had loved Natalie. Frightening as that thought was, and as mercurial as Knight seemed, Fraser couldn't doubt it any more. Criminally irresponsible as Nick Knight might have been, every reaction he'd shown so far had been consistent with that of a man who cared about Natalie. Still cared, after two years away.

Which was more terrifying than any thought of vampirism, or dark creatures out of myths perched on apartment ledges....

VI.

"I came back... to make sure that Natalie was all right." Nick Knight hunched deeper into his trenchcoat, his gaze wandering over the nightscape and the park below them, pointedly avoiding looking at Fraser. "That she was still being left alone by our kind, and that she'd recovered from... what happened."

"It's a little late for that," Fraser said tightly. "Anything might have happened to her in the last two years, and you would have been on the other side of the world." His jaw tensed as he strove to maintain control of the anger rising inside him. "Why now?"

"I knew how she was two years ago." Knight's words were equally controlled, but Fraser thought he could sense resentment behind the flat tone. "I did her a favor in disappearing. It wasn't safe for me to be around her, and LaCroix promised that she wouldn't be hurt by any of the others. Now, I thought--- I thought it would be safe to see her again." The loneliness in Knight's voice sent a jolt of fear through the Mountie, remembering the long, painful history that Natalie and this man shared. Six years of being friends... and something more. He stared at the vampire, reminding himself of how badly Nat had been hurt; telling himself that he had nothing to worry about. She wouldn't want to see Knight, much less... become friends again.

"She didn't see it that way," Fraser stated flatly. "She saw your departure as a betrayal. As cowardice." He stepped into the vampire's line of sight, determined to force the man to meet his eyes. "You left her, weak and hurt and alone in a hospital room, after she risked her life for you. And you did it as if her wishes meant nothing." His voice was rising, anger leaking into it against all of his efforts, but it was worth it. Knight was *looking* at him, seeing him, the vampire's face alive and comprehensible again, full of anger and pain. It could only be a fraction of the hurt he'd inflicted on Natalie, but it was worth it to know that he wasn't an unfeeling monster.... that Knight could hurt, too. "Do you have any idea of how that made her feel?"

"Yes. Yes, I know." Knight rose to his feet, passion finally discernible through the cold mask. "She hated me. She probably still hates me. But that's the way it had to be. She wasn't ..." His voice cracked, and he swallowed convulsively. "She wasn't safe around me. It was too much of a temptation. I *needed* her." The vampire closed his eyes, and turned away from Fraser, shaking. "I wanted her. I loved her. I couldn't be around her without being tempted to finish what we started... and then she would have died. It took all of my self-control to run as far away as I could to save her life!"

Ben couldn't move, couldn't find any rebuttal to Knight's statement; something in him recoiled, sick and stunned at the depth of emotion in the other's voice. Love. Need. Passion; and not all of it selfish, not entirely self-absorbed.... Knight was still speaking. "Now, I could be around her without running any risk of killing her. I owe her so much; apologies, and help, and... don't you see? I can trust myself now. If she needs anything, I can give it to her without hurting her. Before, I couldn't."

Fraser looked away from the naked pain on Nick Knight's face, feeling tired, not knowing what to say; but knowing that he had to *try* to voice objections and to make it clear how badly Natalie had been hurt. "It was still high-handed of you to disappear completely, and say you were never coming back. You didn't even give Natalie a chance to tell you what she wanted---"

"If I had, we'd both be dead."

His head snapped up, his eyes narrowing in concentration on Knight's face. "Both of you?"

A slip of the tongue; Nick cursed himself, and cursed Fraser, who was far from a fool, and cursed the insane impulse that had led him up to the roof with Benton Fraser in the first place. The Mountie was blocking his path, not that it mattered; he could fly away if he wanted to. He glared back at Fraser, fury with himself and Natalie's lover finally inspiring him to tell the unvarnished truth. Not that he'll understand it. Not that anyone can....

"When I thought I killed Natalie, I asked LaCroix to kill me." Fraser's eyes widened in shock, and Nick leaned forward, each word cutting and harsh, feeling the self-hatred and anger that had led him to the abyss two years ago. "I could have brought her across, or let her die; and I'd promised her... I promised her we'd be together." His face twisted in rage, his voice gathering strength as he went on. "I could *not* condemn Natalie to be what I was. That would have been impossible. But she had faith in me. In our love." He smiled suddenly, the light in Natalie's face flashing through his mind again. Fraser was impassive, but his eyes stared at Knight with intense interest. "That we would always be together." He was calm now, with the same calm that he'd approached his own death. "So I told LaCroix to drive a stake through my heart."

"You loved her that much," Fraser whispered.

"Yes." Nick turned away, shrugging ruefully. "LaCroix disagreed with my decision... For too many reasons to explain. The main one being that he never gives up on his possessions. He didn't want me to die. Saving Natalie's life was an afterthought for him," he said with bitterness. "He knew I'd only kill myself if she was gone, and he wasn't going to let me go. Trying to get her to a hospital never occurred to me; I was too devastated. So, he knocked me out, took her to a hospital... By the time I saw her again, I knew what I had to do."

"I see."

Nick turned back, studying Fraser's face, and was slightly stunned to realize that the man *did* see; that he accepted the vampire's explanation without any doubts. Which made him wonder, with some fear: would Fraser have done the same? No. He wouldn't have.... He couldn't need Natalie like I did... Fraser's eyes were trained on Nick, his clear gaze trying to see inside his mind, maybe. "Is that why you're back? Because you can't give Nat up, or because you think of her as yours, as some kind of possession that's tied to you alone?"

"No," Nick replied, his voice steady, knowing it for the truth. "No, I don't think of her as mine. I know she has her own thoughts, feelings---"

"Do you?" Fraser stared at Knight, all thoughts of vampires and death secondary to the way this man had dismissed Natalie's own feelings from consideration. Forget that he had left to save her life; forget that he, Fraser, was intensely grateful that the vampire had left. If not for that, he never would have met Nat, or fallen in love with her. That wasn't the point.

"She would have been willing to become a vampire for you," he said quietly, watching Knight's face for a reaction. "She would have been willing to try again and again to bring back your mortality, if it meant she could be with you. That's how much she loved you, *that* is how brave she was willing to be, for your sake. You pushed that aside because it wasn't what you wanted, and because it wasn't going to be as easy as you hoped. Was that fair?" His voice hardened, and he felt his hands clench even tighter, fighting the urge to punch Knight, who stood frozen in front of him, his expression one of fascination mingled with pain. "For six years she kept your secrets, and tried to help you, when it cost her friends and honesty and even love. You didn't give her _anything_ close to what she tried to give you. And when it came down to the last second, you denied her the choice you gave the other woman you loved, because it wasn't what you would have wanted. Damn you," Fraser whispered, "she deserved better than that."

"Other woman---" Knight's tone was bewildered.

"Janette, I think that's Natalie said her real name was." The Mountie spoke through clenched teeth, hitting the vampire with the words since he couldn't use his fists. "She was in Chicago last July, and Natalie found out about what you did in making her a vampire again."

Stark horror washed across Knight's face; he looked away from Fraser, and stumbled back to the edge of the rooftop, collapsing on the surrounding ledge. "Oh, God." His eyes were closed. "How did she take it?" he whispered, one hand covering his face.

Fraser couldn't speak. The memory of Natalie's heartbreak after speaking with Janette was too painful. Knight glanced up, finally, and must have read the answer on his face, because he glanced away immediately, his expression deeply ashamed. "You don't understand," Knight said haltingly. "Janette was dying.... I couldn't *not* try to save her. With Nat... it was different, it was my fault, I couldn't...." He shook his head, his shoulders hunching. "Janette hated me after I brought her back. I couldn't bear the idea of Natalie hating me. Even if it meant she was dead forever."

"It should have been her choice," Fraser whispered. Truth; and yet, he couldn't regret Nick's mistakes and self-centered blindness. He was absurdly, irrationally grateful for it. Which didn't make Knight any less wrong, of course.

Did that make him just as selfish as Knight? To prefer that Natalie had suffered pain and been abandoned by this man, instead of enduring more pain and staying with Knight instead---even if it was what she would have wanted? Maybe. Ideally, she never would have ever been hurt; in a perfect world, he and Natalie would have met without her history with Knight scarring her heart. But if this man hadn't left her, he never would have won her. It was so difficult and confusing, to hate the vampire for causing her the pain that Fraser knew made it possible for him to be with her now.

"Perhaps it should have been her choice." Knight was staring off into the distance again, weariness and pain easily discernible in every line of body. "I got used to... making decisions, in trying to protect her from my world. I never, ever wanted her to be hurt. Maybe, in the process of protecting her, I forgot that there were some things I had no right to keep from her, or do for her." His shoulders rose and fell in a slow, exhausted shrug of acceptance. "I was wrong." He turned his head hesitantly to Fraser, his voice controlled but unable to disguise the yearning all the same. "Do you think... do you think she'd want to see me?"

"Don't ask me that." The words slipped out before he could call them back, and Fraser turned away from the other man, unwilling to divulge any hint of the tumult inside him. "Just don't. I can't answer it." His voice lowered. "I won't." Go away. Go away, and never come back. Please. He drew a deep breath, and fought a brief, bitter battle for self-control. "All I ask is that you call first, if you want to see her. She deserves some warning, rather than having you show up out of the blue."

"Fine," Knight responded quietly. "If I decide to come by, I'll call first." He paused for a moment, then asked diffidently, "Are you going to mention this conversation to Natalie?"

Ben swung around, surprised and angry again. "Of course. I couldn't keep it from her. That would be lying."

"Of course," Nick echoed softly. He nodded; at what, Fraser wasn't sure, because the vampire's expression was unreadable once again. He must have imagined the respect he thought he saw; Knight had as much reason to resent him as he had to resent the vampire. Knight rose to his feet, studying Fraser a moment longer, then said in a quiet voice, "It's been... interesting, speaking with you, Sergeant. Thank you for---" He laughed a little. "Being honest? Clearing the air?" Knight's gaze was piercing, and Fraser felt raw and vulnerable before it, all too aware that Knight must know how terrified he was; terrified of what this man could do to him and Natalie, simply by walking in the door. "I'll leave now. Tell Nat I won't be back tonight---"

He was gone, as if he'd never been there. A rush of air and the rooftop was empty except for Fraser, who huddled deeper into his jacket, trying to tell himself that Knight's return meant nothing. Natalie loved him; he knew this, knew it deep in his heart. And yet... how much pain could Knight cause her, and how much might she want to see him in order to lay old griefs to rest? What might be stirred up, if she saw Knight again? Six years is a long time. She loved him enough to die for him.... Fraser closed his eyes. Nat. Oh, Nat. I just don't want you to be hurt again.... and I... I don't want you to go.

After a long time, he climbed back down the stairwell and went back to their apartment, his heart weighted with a burden of knowledge and fear that no amount of love could lighten.

VII.

Natalie parked her car, leaned her head against the steering wheel in weariness, and sighed deeply. What a week. I am *so* looking forward to this three day weekend. I'm going to throw my beeper down the trash disposal until Tuesday morning. With my cell phone. And possibly Ben's. She straightened and gathered her groceries for the night's meal, then got out of the car and locked it with only physical tiredness, not the bone-deep exhaustion that some days inflicted on her. Funny. She hadn't had one of those days for a long time; or at least, they didn't seem to last as long as they used to. Maybe it has something to do with having someone to vent to, all the time... or maybe it's Benny's backrubs. The M.E. grinned in anticipation, happily thinking of how the evening would go, and wondering, just a little what Fraser had planned for the next day.

He wouldn't lie to her; if he'd said a small surprise, he meant small... still. There was no telling what he would consider appropriate for their first Valentine's Day together. She grinned, trying to stifle the childish kid-at-Christmas feeling that erupted in her whenever she thought of Ben's promised surprise, and walked up the steps to their apartment. Not that I *ever* know what to expect from him. I can't believe we've been together almost five months, and I still get such a kick out of the way his mind works.

Dief met her at the door with a whine and much tail-wagging, seeming inordinately anxious and glad to see her. "Hello, silly wolf. What's gotten into you?"

"We had a visitor. It upset him, a little," Ben said from the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, not looking at her, the muscles of his back tense as he stared out the kitchen window.

"Oh?" Nat dumped her groceries on the counter, patted Dief's head until he calmed down, then turned to Benny. Frowning, she walked over and hugged her lover as hard as she could. He turned in her embrace, smiling, and hugged her back, but she could see shadows around his eyes. Whoever had put Diefenbaker on his guard had rattled Ben too. "Well," she said softly, lightly kissing him on the lips, "Whoever it was, they're just going to have to wait until Tuesday. This weekend is *ours*. Nobody's allowed to butt in on our anniversary."

"He said he wouldn't call back tonight."

Natalie pulled away and started unloading the groceries. Laughing a little, she glanced at the clock. "I'd hope not! I mean, it's almost midnight now---"

"It was an old friend of yours." Fraser's arms were crossed in a self-protective gesture, his face blank to anyone who didn't know him well; to anyone who couldn't see the worry around his eyes. "A very _old_ friend," he added with particular emphasis.

Her hands slowed in their task as she processed the information, and then her heart started to speed up. "One of Them."

"Yes." She knew Ben had heard the capital letters she'd put on the statement, and she shook her head in denial and anger. When were They going to leave them alone? When was her life going to be completely free from vampires showing up unannounced?

"Damn. Which one? Vachon again?" A horrifying thought struck her, and she whirled to examine Benny more closely, grabbing his hands as she checked him over in a rush of fear. "Oh God, it wasn't LaCroix, was it? Tell me he didn't come here and talk to you, he didn't try to hurt you---" She could hear the frantic note in her voice, but didn't care; the idea of LaCroix getting anywhere *near* Ben was enough to give her a heart attack.

"No, neither of them." Ben tried to smile reassuringly, but the wounded look was still there, just under the surface. He took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. "It was Nick."

"Nick who?" Natalie stared at Ben for a second, confused. She didn't know any Nicks unless you counted---

Like an electrical shock, it hit her. Nick. That Nick. Nick Knight. Here, in Chicago. "Oh my God. He was here? Why?!" //He said he was never coming back! He was gone, he went away forever, how can he be *here*....//

"He wanted to see you," Ben replied evenly, watching her for signs of shock, probably. He still held her hands gently, his entire body tensed for her reaction.

There was no conscious thought behind said reaction when it came. Fury flared through Natalie like an erupting volcano. "Oh, he did, did he?" Her voice started out soft, and then began climbing. "He just showed up, knocked on the door, and said hi, I'm Nick Knight, can I speak with Natalie? Of all the ... I can't believe him. I can not *believe* him! Who the hell does he think he is?!?"

Outside, two doors down, three stories up, Nick winced. At this range, Natalie couldn't feel his presence, but he could still hear the conversation taking place in her apartment perfectly well. Especially when she's yelling...

"How *dare* he come here. How DARE he. That jerk! Two years later, he doesn't even bother to call, or send a postcard, and then he drops by on a Friday night like he does this every damn day---" Natalie hadn't lost any of her talent to rage and fume in the last two years. Not with him as the target, anyway. "Ooooooooooohhhhhh. That undead inconsiderate jackass!! This is incredible!" Something got slammed into something else; by the sound of it, several plates bit the dust as victims of Nat's temper. Nick smiled ruefully as he heard her mutter under her breath, then demand, "Ben? What happened? Tell me everything."

A low sigh from Fraser, then Nick heard the Mountie's patient voice trying to calm Nat down. "We talked. Mostly about you." A small pause, then the Sergeant continued, "He wanted to make sure you were okay. And to offer his help, if you needed it." Knight blinked in surprise, then shook his head. He said he'd tell her everything. I should have believed him when he said he would. Still... if he were in Fraser's place, he couldn't be sure that he would be able to remain even-handed and fair about what had been discussed. Not with Natalie standing in front of him.

It didn't seem to alleviate the M.E.'s anger one bit. "Did he think I'd *need* it? After two years? Did he think I'd still be waiting for him to come in and save the day? Damn him. That arrogant..."

"I don't know. Maybe he did," Fraser replied in a quieter voice. "Maybe he just wanted to see you."

Knight froze, motionless, hearing something in the Mountie's voice that confirmed what he suspected, and yet still surprised him: longing. Need. Benton Fraser was hopelessly in love with Nat, and it came out in every word he spoke, in the pain beneath the restraint, in the simple way he said the word 'you' to Natalie... How could he be so calm, so rational about Nick's return, and feel the way he did about Nat? He can't be that honorable about this. If he is, I'm going to be sick. Nick listened in fascination as Natalie continued to lose her temper, hoping for some sign that she missed him, wanted to see him; and bitingly aware that the man she was abusing him to was exercising more maturity than Nick was capable of in not joining in. I wanted you to be a jerk. I wanted you not to love her. He sighed, closing his eyes. Why can't I just be glad for Nat that I was wrong?

She still wanted to hit something. Preferably Nick, but she'd had to settle for slamming the coffee pot around and dropping the dishes on the counter. Her anger was beginning to drop to a low simmer of disgust and anger, but Natalie was intensely glad Nick wasn't standing in front of her. God knew what she'd say to him. Or do to him. "Well, fine. He waltzes in, and I'm supposed to be glad to see him? Maybe tell him, it's okay, Nick, we can be friends again, no problem, forget about what happened two years ago and that you bailed on me in the middle of the night. I'm *okay* with that." The M.E. snarled in frustration as she wiped up the coffee she'd spilled. "Amazing. I can't believe he expected this would be okay. What does he want? A ticker-tape parade?"

"I don't know. I don't know what he expected." Ben was being very quiet about this, very calm and detached; Natalie fought the urge to shake him, to make him react to the situation. Maybe he was still in shock. Maybe he thought he was helping, by just listening to her blow off steam. "He said he'd been worried about you. That he thought it was safe to come back, and see how you were doing---"

It didn't help to hear him say that. "I wish he was here right now, so I could let him know what I think of him. The creep." She took a deep breath, struggling to control hurt feelings along with her anger. She threw the paper towel in the garbage can. "God, the sheer presumption of the man. Why would he think I would _possibly_ want to see him? He's acting like he thinks I couldn't have a life without him. Why would he believe that?"

"Perhaps because he hasn't had a life without you," Ben said in a low voice, looking away from her.

Natalie stopped in shock, turning to stare at Benny. A roil of mixed emotions, churned in her chest, but confusion won out, drowning some of her rage. "Why are you defending him?" She took a step toward him, dragging one hand through her hair, staring at Ben in total bewilderment. "You sound like you're on his side. Like you think I should see him." She didn't mean for it to be an accusation, but she was suddenly aware of how alone she felt with Ben trying to calm her down, when all she wanted to do was stake Nick out in the sunlight for his unbelievable gall. In coming back. In not contacting her before. In leaving in the first place. And Ben was just standing there, telling her what Nick had said. "I don't want to know his side of it. I want to strangle him, Ben. How can you be so detached about this?" she asked, near tears with frustrated confusion and loneliness.

"I am not detached, Nat." Benny's voice was very quiet and even, but the intensity of it made Natalie still completely. "This is too important to me, maybe. I can't... I'm not sure I can explain this well." He paused, biting his lower lip, his jaw tightening as it did only under great stress. "He loves you. He loved you then, and I think he loves you now. Wait, wait...." He held up his hands to suppress her protests, blue eyes begging her for understanding. "Let me say this. Please."

Natalie nodded jerkily, and Fraser's face showed his relief as he slowly began to speak, his voice becoming more impassioned as he did so, his gaze riveted to her face. "I am so far from objective that it's laughable. I want to tell you to tell Knight to go to hell. I want to choke him for what he put you through. I want him to disappear off the face of the earth." He swallowed, dropping his hands, looking away from her with a miserable expression. "I wish he had never come here tonight."

Fraser took a deep breath, and turned back to her. "But I am not going to lie to you. I am not going to prevent you from seeing him." He paused, searching for words, his eyes full of the love she counted on, needed to see. "I love you. You love me. I know this. But if... if seeing him again would change how you feel about him or me, I'm not going to avoid finding out. Even if it meant everything between us would change...."

"Nothing would change!" Natalie took two steps forward and put her arms around Ben, holding him close. "Nothing. Ben..." She wasn't being fair to him at all. Of course he cared, of course he wasn't simply being just out of some remote sense of fairness; he was being fair out of love for her. To let her have what he thought she might want again. //What did Nick say to him? How did he ever make Ben believe I might choose Nick instead of him?// Remorsefully, she tightened her arms around him, shaking her head at her own blindness. "Nothing can change how I feel about you, or how much I love you."

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his own arms going around her with tentative, then crushing warmth. "You loved him a long time. You would have died for him." Ben closed his eyes and ducked his head, his voice so low she could barely hear it. "He would have died for you. Knight said he asked his master to kill him, when he thought you were dying. I think he knows it was a mistake to leave you, now. If you ever changed your mind... if you decided later that you might love him again," Ben said in a rush of determination, "I couldn't stand it. I have to know now, Natalie. It's selfish, I know that, and I do trust you---but how can you be sure that you won't ever love him again, unless you see him?"

She might have found the question unforgivable, or grounds for another argument. Ben knew he might even deserve it. He *didn't* doubt Nat's feelings for him, but just because she loved him, didn't mean she couldn't fall for Knight all over again; even remembering how he'd hurt her, and left her before. There'd been good times too, Natalie had admitted that, and the man he'd met on the rooftop had loved Nat intensely, despite the terrible mistakes he'd made with her.

Nat didn't seem inclined to go that route, though. "How can you be sure you'd never fall for Victoria again, if she were still alive?"

Fraser blinked, momentarily nonplussed. "That isn't the same."

"It's exactly the same," Nat said softly. She kissed him very gently, then whispered, "Listen to me. I don't want to die for love anymore. I don't want anyone to die for me. I want to live. With you." She hugged him closer, smiling up at him serenely. "I don't need to see Nick to know that. If it'll make _you_ feel better, I'll see him---and read him the riot act he deserves, for everything he's done and not done in the last two years. I could get by with a phone call for that, though."

She shook her head. "I don't want Nick now for the same reasons you wouldn't want Victoria back. Even if he has learned better, and still loves me---it would end up in the same place, with both of us enduring pain for the sake of love, instead of finding any joy in it. I'm *very* happy with what I've got." Nat sighed.

Ben frowned, nodding slowly, unable to refute her analysis of his feelings about Victoria. Perhaps Victoria and Nick were more alike than he'd previously considered; he couldn't honestly say that he would ever want to see her again, either, anymore, even if she weren't dead. Even if she had returned repenting her actions, he couldn't honestly call what he might have felt to be love. Not the way he loved Natalie; nothing like as strong and real.

"And there's this; in the same place, Nick never would have given me the choice of going back to you." Nat rolled her eyes in disgust and resignation. "Oh, he might have mentioned you, if you'd shown up in his position... but then he would have tried to talk me out of seeing you, or talking to you, and made it impossible to get any idea of how *I* felt about it. That is one of many, many reasons why I will always love you more than him. Aside from your sense of humor, your sense of fair play, and your sense of direction."

Fraser swallowed, feeling relief, shame, and love for Natalie all at once, unable to think of a thing to say. She combed his hair out his eyes, then brushed her lips against his, and whispered, "I am more scared of losing you at this moment than I could ever possibly want to see Nick again."

At that, Ben pulled her against him as close as possible and kissed her passionately, painfully grateful, thoughts of Nick Knight coming back into their lives dissolving like smoke.

The kiss broke off after several long seconds, with Natalie giggling a little shakily and Ben chuckling softly under his breath. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry I had to ask." The contrition in his eyes was utterly sincere; and there was no way she could hold his doubts against him, when she knew she might have felt the same.

"Don't be. You had a nasty surprise sprung on you without warning." Natalie shrugged ruefully, rubbing her nose against his. "And I didn't help, flying off the handle like that."

"I would have been more shocked if you hadn't," Ben replied, kissing her lightly. "I suppose... I suppose he'll call tomorrow, and want to see you." He sounded resigned to the prospect, and a little grim.

"Hmmmph." Natalie's eyes narrowed. "If he does, I'm going to tell him to buzz off. At least for a while. This is still our specially planned weekend together, and Mr. Knight can just amuse himself for a few days as far as I'm concerned."

"Good."

The M.E. chuckled at the firm tone in Fraser's voice, and tucked her head against the Mountie's shoulder with a sigh. "Not exactly how I imagined starting our celebration."

Ben kissed the top of her head. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Thanks." She closed her eyes. "Any chance I could have my surprise now?"

"Ummmm....." Benny sounded extremely hesitant. "Well, yes. But I'm fairly certain you won't want it."

Natalie opened her eyes in curiosity. "Really? Now, why would you get something for me that I wouldn't want?"

"Because I wanted you to have it." Ben shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "Of course, that was before this evening... and even before Nick Knight came by, I wasn't certain you'd like it...."

"Oh, now I've got to see it."

"Nat, I honestly don't think this is a good idea---"

"Quit stalling, Benny. You know I'll love whatever it is."

"Actually..."

"Please?" Natalie tilted her head and tried to look wistful, a maneuver which she knew Ben was wholly incapable of resisting. This time, he looked as if he'd really like to deny her request... but with put-upon sigh, Fraser retrieved a small box from the counter, a blush climbing his face.

"You don't have to accept it. I just wanted to get it for you---" Ben's voice was so hesitant, there was no way she would have refused the gift, even if she hadn't immediately fallen in love with it the second he opened the box.

"Oh." She gulped, unable to say more.

"I had Ray's cousin make it for me. I couldn't find one I really liked..." Fraser's voice trailed off shyly, a hopeful light in his eyes. "You like it?" Natalie nodded wordlessly, feeling her eyes widen. Is this what I think it is? Very carefully, Ben removed the ring from the box and put it on her left hand ring finger. "It doesn't have to mean... I mean, I was going to ask you to marry me, but I didn't expect you to---"

"Yes," Natalie blurted out, throwing her arms around his neck before he could talk himself out of the proposal. Forget second thoughts; forget all the reasons it wasn't going to be easy for either of them, with their careers and their pasts and their different ambitions. There was no one else in the world who she could say that to, and mean it. No one. Because there was no one else like Benton Fraser on the entire planet.

"Yes?" Fraser's voice was stunned; Nat couldn't see his face, as tightly as she had her face pressed against his neck. She nodded, hard, feeling his arms tighten around her again. "You want to marry me?" he asked incredulously, obviously not sure he understood.

"Yes. Definitely." Natalie pulled away from him just far enough to kiss him deeply, over and over, saying in between kisses. "You're not getting out of this, you know... Not ever. You're stuck with me now...."

"Oh. Good." Ben still sounded incredulous and stunned, but the dawning joy on his face was overshadowing the shock. "Yes... Wonderful... Fine..."

"Terrific."

"Incredible..." Benny breathed, kissing her very, very lightly. "Oh, my..."

"We're getting married," Natalie whispered to him, laughing softly, her eyes wet. "We're getting married. Wow...."

Nick Knight closed his eyes, hearing the joy in the mortals' voices, remembering everything that had been said; and especially what Natalie had mentioned. That she was happy, and that being with Nick would have meant enduring pain, and not finding happiness. There was nothing she needed from him; except, maybe, the chance to vent her anger on him. Benton Fraser was everything else that she wanted.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. But not as much as he expected.

Strange. He'd thought her life would have stopped two years ago, but she'd been stronger than he, and put the pieces of her existence back together without him. His own life had stopped--- or maybe it had just slowed? Nick frowned, and opened his eyes. It should have hurt worse, with the devastating pain of the last time he'd seen Natalie, to realize she loved someone else. Instead, he was... free.

She was fine. Happy. And the man she loved, loved her more than he could; better than he could.

He would always owe her more than he could ever repay. For her friendship, and encouragement; for the wounds she'd sustained, the people she'd lost after she'd come to know him. And for her last gallant efforts to save him, to love him enough to give him her life.

But that debt was too huge, too big to even begin to know where to pay it off. Nick had to take it as simply the burden her love had placed on him, and accept that there was nothing he could do. It didn't hurt to know that; didn't make him feel the soul-deep guilt that so many of his mistakes did.

Natalie was well. There was a merciful angel somewhere in the world, looking after the woman he loved. And she was better off without him returning to her life, at least for now.

But if she ever did need him... Nick smiled to himself, and a moment later the rooftop where he'd been perched was empty.

VIII.

Late June, 1998

"I can't believe you're seriously going in to work tomorrow," Natalie said, unlocking the apartment door. "We just got in, it's late, Inspector Thatcher would certainly understand---"

"I'm sure she would, Nat. But Ray needs help on a case, and if I'm going to be of assistance, I need to get to my files. Besides, I'll be going in at noon. That's not so bad. Is it?" Ben hauled the rest of their luggage out of the entryway, and raised an eyebrow at his wife. Nat picked up their mail from the kitchen counter, sorting through it for anything interesting.

"It's not bad, no. Not if we're still having lunch tomorrow, anyway," Natalie added, smiling at him over her shoulder. "I just thought you might want more of a rest. Jet lag and flight times from the Yukon being what they are." She yawned. "The morgue isn't seeing *me* until Tuesday, I'm telling you that right now."

"I would love to spend another 24 hours completely alone with you," Ben replied, kissing her on the jaw as he joined her, his arms sliding around her waist. "But I suppose I'll have to settle for the rest of my life."

"The rest of our lives." Natalie wriggled back into his arms, smiling contentedly up at her husband. It still made her giggle when she tried to say that phrase aloud. "When do you think we can get back up to the cabin?"

"Probably not until Christmas. Or New Year's."

"New Year's." Natalie craned her neck back and kissed Ben on the mouth, then returned to looking at their mail. "More congratulations cards, bills, what looks like something official from Ottawa, more congrats cards... hey." The M.E. blinked, noticing the small box underneath the stack of letters for the first time. "What's this?"

"No return address," Benny observed.

"I know. Maybe another gift?" It was perfectly square, small, just a shade larger than could be easily held in Natalie's palm. "Hmmm. Open it now, or wait?"

"Why are you asking?" Ben whispered in her ear, and the M.E. elbowed him in the ribs, chuckling as she ripped the brown paper off the package.

"Oooo. Nice wrapping. Expensive." Pink and gold paper that looked hand-painted; a slender silk ribbon surrounding it. Natalie frowned. "Great, there's no card. How are we going to send a thank-you note?"

"Process of elimination," her husband responded, his voice completely deadpan, although Natalie could still hear the amusement in it. "We simply go down the list of those who already sent notes, and presents, and those who couldn't come, and---"

"Forget I asked." Carefully, so as not to wreck the paper, Nat unwrapped the package, then opened the small white box it concealed. "Oh, how lovely..."

Nestled in layers of white tissue paper was a small, perfect glass globe. Inside of it was a candleholder with a tiny white taper. The real beauty of the little lamp was in the etchings inscribed around it. Delicate traceries like frost, of sea waves and stars and mountains, were layered in the crystal with incredible complexity. A small fold of white paper lay underneath it. Ben fished the note out while Natalie held the lamp up to the light, marveling at the gift.

"Nat," Fraser said quietly, "You should read this."

Startled at the serious tone of his voice, Natalie carefully set the lamp down and took the card. She recognized the handwriting as soon as she opened it; then forced herself to read the message.

To Natalie and Benton Fraser

Sincere congratulations on your wedding

from one who cares, and always will
with friendship and hope

Nick
June, 1998

Natalie blinked, hard, then looked back at the lamp, shaking her head. "A gift of light. Very... Nick." She swallowed, unable to completely suppress a smile.

"Beautiful," Fraser agreed. Nat listened for any sign of discomfort in his voice, of anger or rejection; all she heard was a quiet understanding. "It will look good on the mantelpiece."

She turned back to her husband and kissed him, suddenly, then nodded, meeting his gaze without any difficulty. "Yeah. It will." She studied him for a moment, then whispered, "I love you so much. I am so... *lucky*... to have you."

He didn't say anything, merely kissed her again, then picked up the lamp and held it to the light. "Nat, look."

Etched in the glass, visible only from a certain angle, were their initials, and a heart entwining them in the crystal stars.

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