Timeless (2/?)
by Elisa P. Black

  Nick awoke with the setting of the sun feeling refreshed, and found
Natalie bustling around the kitchen making herself breakfast. 
  "Good morning, Nat," he greeted her while reaching in his fridge for a
bottle of cow's blood. 
  "Good morning," she returned cheerily, grabbing her meal and heading for
the door.  "Give me an hour to get ready and I'll meet you back here." 
  "Get ready for what?" 
  "We have a date, silly.  The dance to start off the convention?" 
  "Oh, right.  Formal or casual?" 
  Nat sighed and stepped into the elevator.  "Formal." 
  The door slid shut between them.  Nick blinked dumbly at it for a few
seconds and then sighed.  Great, the weekend and I have to go to a dance,
he thought ruefully.  Nick flipped on the radio as he was getting dressed. 
  The show sounded familiar again, the fifth one this week.  Maybe LaCroix
was taking a break; his "father" certainly couldn't be dead or he'd feel
it.  He decided to check with Janette on Monday.  The rerun seemed to be
about guilt, in fact, he could recall now that one or two of the other
reruns were also about guilt.  And the other two or three were about
desires.  Maybe LaCroix was trying to tell him something?  He clicked off
the radio pointedly.  He was in no mood to play LaCroix's games tonight. 

  She raced down the street as fast as she could, running away, running
from the horrible thing she'd done, the horrible thing she *was*.  The
buildings blurred from her tears, her disgusting bloody tears; how could
anyone cry blood?  She had to leave now , before her ravenous hunger took
over and made her strike again.  But where could she go? 
  Where was she?  She pushed away the memory of her first victim which
continually hovered near the surface of her thoughts and concentrated on
her surroundings.  Nice little houses; she must be near the outskirts of
the city.  Oh, god, a few minutes ago, she'd been at the very heart of it. 
What happened?  What did he do to her? 
  Immediately she knew the answer to that question was the key to this
nightmare.  But she just couldn't remember.  The smell, that sweet smell
called to her.  Human blood.  No! 
  And she found herself looking in the window of a house as her mind
clouded over with bloodlust. 
  Watching.  Waiting.  Hunting. 

  A steady stream of finely dressed people poured into the ballroom of the
Plaza Grand Hotel.  Natalie, in a jazzy blue dress lined in gold partially
dragged in a clearly uncomfortable yer ever-charming Nick.  He never
noticed that many of the women there gave him more than one appreciative
look but Nat smiled happily.  She snagged a glass of white wine from a
passing waiter and continued her beeline towards a red-haired lady and her
date. 
  "Dana!" she greeted the beautiful petite woman in a simple black dress.
"It's great to see you again!  This is my date Nick." 
  "Natalie!" returned Scully warmly.  "This is my friend and partner,
Mulder."  She indicated the only man not wearing a tuxedo and he gave them
a sheepish grin. 
  "A pleasure to meet you," Nick said graciously. 

  "A pleasure to meet you," LaCroix sneered in a parody of politeness. 
  "The pleasure's all mine," Rikahn responded with equal venom. 
  LaCroix smiled inwardly, knowing that this 'distinguished-looking,'
gray-haired vampire, one of the most exalted Enforcers, and his powerful
cohorts couldn't handle this one job.  Intending to enjoy this power as
long as possible, he asked quite unnecessarily and with extravagant
innocence, "And what service is required of me tonight?" 
  Rikahn did rather well in hiding his anger at this impudent one.  He
smiled grimly and answered.  "It has been explained to you by the others,
I'm sure.  You will do as you have the previous nights."  His voice was
completely detached, and right after he'd spoken, he flew off. 
  LaCroix laughed delighted to himself. 

  "So you're a cop?" Mulder asked. 
  "Yeah," Nick answered in their mutual effort at conversation. 
  Soon afterward, the women had left with a group of other people to
discuss the effect of some twenty-syllabled substance on some
ten-syllabled part of something.  The ladies seemed to be having a very
good time of it.  Other people were having supper and only the very stiff
people were dancing to the nondescript music.
  "So," said Nick, "Any special types of cases you work on?" 
  Mulder replied, "Well, I work on unexplained cases, paranormal
phenomena, that type of stuff." 
  "Ghosts, aliens, ESP?" 
  "And witches, werewolves, vampires, so on." 
  Vampires?  Nick blanched; a really bad move since he looked whiter than
white against his black outfit.  Mulder looked concerned and not just a
bit curious and suspicious.  Nick plastered a smile on his face, hoping it
didn't look too much like a grimace.  "Sounds interesting.  How about we
ask the ladies to dance?" 
  With an effort, Mulder put away his curiousity in light of his stagnated
social life.  "Sounds good to me." 

	End of Part 2