********************************************************************* War 7 File 11 ********************************************************************* Good Work, Detective, Part 1 Saturday, August 10, 1996, 12:15 a.m. by Amy L. Hull and Jennie "Friend to Mounties Everywhere" Hayes (Happy Birthday, Susan) Tara set another drink in front of Amy. "Well, this is new, love." "You think?" Amy replied blearily. Betsy gripped Amy's arm suddenly, causing Amy's drink to spill. "Huh?" Amy mumbled distractedly, attempting to scrape the alcohol toward her. She gave up and leaned forward to try and slurp the liquid off the table's surface. Her already-wet hair dragged in the liquor. Tara stared. "Amy! Stop it!" Betsy exclaimed as she caught sight of Amy's behavior. Shaking the other woman's arm to get her attention, Betsy squeezed harder and pointed to a table across the room. "Look!" Amy turned blearily in the direction Betsy indicated. "What?" "It's happening again. I'm seeing more ghosts." Betsy took a shaky drink of her chosen beverage, looked again and shuddered. Amy looked at her, still clearly confused. "What?" she asked again. "Don't you see Tracy?" Betsy asked, pointing again. Amy looked, blinked, rubbed her eyes, blinked, and said, "Well, actually, I see about three Tracys. And Becky. I think." Betsy looked expectantly at Amy, waiting for a reaction to this revelation. Amy shrugged, then took a drink and said, "So?" "So--Tracy's *dead*!" Betsy exclaimed. "She is?" Amy asked, frowning deeply. "Yes!" "Oh." Amy paused a moment. "Are you *sure*?" "Well, Nat *said* she was dead." "Was Nat sure?" Amy asked. Betsy looked at Amy, then Tracy, then drained her glass. This was not helping. She spotted Valerie, who was looking mournfully at the dance floor. Edging toward the injured NatPacker, Betsy began hesitantly, "Valerie?" "Yeah?" Valerie looked up from her Sex-On-the-Beach, trying to not glance back at the dancers. "Valerie, do you see Tracy over there?" Betsy asked, pointing. Valerie looked. "Yeah," she said absently, glancing back at her wrapped ankle, which was propped on another bar stool, then to the dance floor. Betsy was beginning to look quite lost when suddenly Valerie whirled back around, paying sudden and complete attention to the figure across the room. Then a smile spread across her face. "Tracy's here! Hey, Jennie!" Jennie turned from her conversation with a Mountie. "Look!" Valerie called brightly, pointing. Jennie turned and her grin spread even wider. "It's Tracy! She's okay!" Jennie's grin began to fade as Valerie frowned. "What?" "Well.....*why* is Tracy okay?" "Does it matter?" Jennie asked, her face as pink as the strawberry daiquiris she had been imbibing, despite the Coke currently in her hand. "Are we sure she's not a ghost?" mumbled a still-nervous and slightly disgruntled Betsy. "Let's find out. Betsy, help me carry Val; we'll go say hi," Jennie said decisively, setting her Coke on the bar and waving goodbye to her companion, who was still looking worriedly at her orange hair. Betsy and Jennie locked arms to make the kind of rescue chair the Girl Scouts seem to always learn, but which often proves less than optimally effective. Valerie was fortunately not difficult to carry and did support part of her weight by holding onto Jennie and Betsy's necks. There were hardly any raised eyebrows as they crossed the room--far stranger things had been happening for the past two weeks. "Who was that you were talking to, Jennie?" Betsy asked. "Oh. That was Mitchell the Mountie. He helped me get to work that morning when I didn't have my glasses," Jennie explained briefly. As they neared the small Perkulator contingent, Becky flagged them over. "Hey, guys!" she called, smiling and raising her glass. She turned to Tracy, "Do you remember the NatPack? Or, at least, this part of it?" Tracy took a breath and raised her eyebrows, her expression indicating that she did indeed remember the chief perpetrators or last war's frightening impromptu performance of select bits of Phantom of the Opera at the Raven. All she said aloud was, "I think so." She pointed at Valerie's bandaged ankle. "What happened?" "Oh, someone tried to mug me and I fell badly fighting his knife away from him." Valerie shrugged at the shocked expressions of Tracy and the Perkulators. "It's good to see you," she added. Jennie and Betsy set Valerie gently onto her good foot. Betsy stepped hesitantly toward Tracy. "Are you really.....I mean....how...." Betsy trailed off uncomfortably, reaching hesitantly toward the younger woman. After a somewhat uncomfortable silence, Tracy took Betsy's hand, shook it, and said, "Tracy Vetter." "Betsy Vera," Betsy replied in an automated haze. She stared at their joined hands, then grinned. She turned to Valerie and Jennie, looking almost giddy. "She's real! She's alive! She's not a ghost!" "Betsy, you're babbling," Jennie said, gently patting Betsy's shoulder and pulling back as Tracy, her smile frozen on her face, gingerly attempted to extricate her fingers from Betsy's relieved grip. Becky smiled placatingly at Tracy. "The NatPack. Remember--they're the slightly unstable ones?" She shrugged at Jennie's glare. ********************************************************************* Good Work, Detective, Part 2 Saturday, August 10, 1996, 12:15 a.m. by Amy L. Hull and Jennie "Friend to Mounties Everywhere" Hayes (Happy Birthday, Susan) Becky smiled placatingly at Tracy. "The NatPack. Remember--they're the slightly unstable ones?" She shrugged at Jennie's glare. Valerie and Betsy burbled happily at Tracy and Becky leaned toward Jennie. "So what's with the ghosts?" Becky asked. "Well, it seems Nat has developed a whammy. She seems to have gotten most of us with it. Betsy seems to see ghosts. And if you've noticed Amy over there--she doesn't normally drink alcohol. At all." Noticing Jennie gesturing at her, Amy raised her glass, spilling half of it down the front of her in the process. Becky nodded. "I see. And I suppose the....whammy.... is responsible for the Bozo hair, and the orange clothes and nails and glasses--" "No! Orange is a wonderful color! It's nice and bright and shiny!" "Uh huh. So is fire--" "Fire..." Jennie breathed, grinning happily. "--but you don't usually stick your hair in it," Becky finished Jennie frowned. "Why not? Hair burn. Pretty bright *shiny* burning hair." Jennie smiled again, her eyes glazing over mischievously. Becky turned to Tracy. "Hey, Trace. Do you see Nick?" Tracy scanned the room. "Uh...yeah. He's right over there." Tracy pointed. "Could you go get him?" Becky asked. "We have a problem here we need him to fix." "Sure," Tracy replied brightly. "And, Jennie, could you go get Amy?" Becky smiled engagingly. "Why?" Jennie's eyes narrowed; she was suddenly suspicious of Becky's familiarly calculating manner. "Um....she ought to be walked around every now and then?" Jennie looked dubious and tapped her foot a bit. "Hey," Becky wheedled. "I don't want to miss my only chance to see Amy schnackered, do I?" "Guess not." Jennie headed for the bar and retrieved both her Coke and Amy. When they returned to Becky's table, Nick was arriving with Tracy. "But I still don't understand," he was stammering. "They told me you were dead." Tracy shrugged. "Well, I'm not." "B-b-but how?" Nick sputtered. "Does it really matter?" Tracy's patience was wearing a bit thin. She shoved Nick toward Becky. "Becky needs you for something. Make yourself useful." "Hey...." Amy slurred. "We're mad at you." She pointed at Nick, who was closer than she had thought, and she ended up poking him in the chest. "Nick, we need your help," Becky said quickly as Nick, looking startled, grabbed Amy's arms and kept her from tipping over. "Apparently Nat has acquired the ability to hoo-doo people--" "To what?" Nick asked, perplexed by Beck's comment and Amy's behavior. "To hypnotize people," Becky clarified. "What?! That's not possible," Nick objected. "Nick," Valerie interjected gently, "why not? After what happened, you had to know there would be some kind of repercussions." Nick looked quite downcast. "I know you hoped everything was fine," Valerie continued, "but it doesn't always seem to work that way." "So anyway," Becky resumed, "someone needs to undo what's been done to them. Amy's been drinking all the alcohol she can lay her hands on." "For days," Betsy added. Nick raised his eyebrows at the NatPacker now sagging in front of him. "Why doesn't Nat just undo it if she did it to begin with. She can't think this is a good thing." "Well, Nat doesn't seem to be able to do any of this consciously. It only happens by accident, and if she *thinks* about it--nada," Jennie explained. Nick nodded, a bit sheepishly, but seeming to be accepting of this, even if he was still uncomfortable with it. Appearing to make a decision, he said, "Okay. Who first?" "Amy." Jennie poked her friend. "*Amy*." Amy looked up blearily. "Amy, look at Nick." "Why?" Amy asked petulantly. "I'm *mad* at Nick. He hurt Natalie." "Well, I'm sure he didn't mean to," Valerie said soothingly. "But he did. Ishn't that what counts?" Amy looked confused. "Well, why don't you tell him that?" Jennie asked. "Okay." Amy paused. "Where ish he?" "He's right in front of you," Betsy said. "Oh." Amy looked in front of her, then looked up at Nick, who got and held eye contact as best he could with Amy too drunk to even stand anymore. "Amy, you don't need alcohol," Nick began gently. "Don't need alcohol," Amy mumbled. Nick continued, "You don't want to drink alcohol. At least not all the time. And you're not going to get sick, you're just going to sleep in a little while for several hours." "No more alcohol," Amy repeated. They sat her in a chair, where she looked dazed but didn't reach for the nearby glasses. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. "Now Betsy," Jennie encouraged. "She's been seeing ghosts." "What if I *want* to see ghosts?" Betsy asked. She paused a moment. "What am I *saying*??" "Betsy," Nick said, getting her attention. "You don't see ghosts." "I don't see ghosts," Betsy intoned. "You don't see ghosts, Betsy." Nick smiled, then added, "You don't see ghosts unless you're looking for them and want to. And if you do, they won't bother you." "Won't bother me." Betsy backed away, nodding. "Now Jennie," Becky said. "Why me?" Jennie demanded. "I'm fine." "It's the orange," Valerie explained. "She usually hates orange." Nick cringed a bit at Jennie's appearance. "Jennie," he said. "Why should I let him? I'm *fine*," Jennie repeated. "But you could look," Amy offered. "He has nice blue eyes." "That's true," Jennie turned to Nick. "Blue goes well with orange. *Pretty* blue. Have you ever thought of wearing oran--" Susan walked past at that point and murmured, "Oh, my God." She shook her head, the image of Nick in orange warring with the image of him in pink. Both seemed equally abhorrent. "Jennie, you don't like orange," Nick began. "Don't like orange," Jennie repeated, her voice a bouncy sing-song. "You don't want to wear or see orange unless you need to or unless *you* choose to. You can choose what colors you like." Nick stepped away. "No orange," Jennie murmured. "Um," Susan spoke up to alert the group of her presence. "Could I possibly just borrow Jennie for a moment here?" Becky looked at Nick, eyebrows raised questioningly. Nick nodded and shrugged. "Jennie," Susan said soothingly, taking the NatPacker's hand, "I want you to come with me for a second. Okay?" Jennie seemed to be coming back to reality but was still a bit fuzzy. "Okay." She followed Susan meekly. The others watched the two disappear into the nearby restroom and moments later a piercing sound erupted from behind the door. Jennie screamed. "Oh, my *God*!!" ********************************************************************* The Truce Gift by Laura MacMillan and the N&NPack August 10 12:30am The Museum Sequel to The Peace Offering Slowly Rebecca wondered through the museum in search of a certain Couisn. With all that was happening lately there hadn't been time have the leather bound book of Lacroix's monologs delivered to CERK. The Museum presented the perfect oppurtunity since everyone who had been part of the war was supposed to be there. Rebecca finally located Denise in the CERK set area. With great ease she handed her the book, " A truce gift from the N&NPack." She waited for a reaction. As Denise looked over the book she felt like jumping up and down with joy. She had always wanted a copy of all of Lacroix's monologues and now she had it. The part that amazed her is that a N&NPacker had taken so much time and effort to transcribe it. Denise calmed herself and replied, "Thank you. I shall accept this in the manner in which it was ment." With that Rebacca smiled and turned to go find the rest of the N&NPack. ********************************************************************* ONCE AROUND THE FLOOR by Valerie Meachum with assistance from Amparo Bertram and Perri Smith Time: 1:00 am Friday night/Saturday morning, August 9/10 Place: The Raven, where else? :-) Now *this* was what the Raven was supposed to look like as a War wound down! The karaoke craze had burned itself out, at least for the moment, and someone with exceedingly good taste in dance tunes had taken control of the sound systems. All the partying listmembers were pretty much dry again; even Valerie's own velvet dress was now just barely damp. And the water fight had been more than worth it. Though getting unwhammied by LaCroix would have been mortifying enough without being dripping wet at the time. Still, with the Trouble Magnet whammy itself still in operation, she'd probably gotten off easy. She had actually considered getting out of the way of the hoses and buckets to protect her rare-occasion attire and the grooming that went along with it. She'd been pretty damn proud of herself this time, decked out in the midnight-blue-green dress patterned after Jean Butler's costume in the _Riverdance_ video, with its off-the shoulder princess-seamed cut, flippy short skirt and long sleeves of a mesh that resembled fishnet stockings but somehow looked a lot classier as sleeves. Something Raven-appropriate that she could put on her dancer-slight frame without looking like a comically tall sixth-grader trying to fill out big sister's grownup party clothes. Considering the state of her right ankle after that argument with the pothole outside Nick's loft, she had nixed the idea of heels and gone the rest of the way with the Irish dancer motif, wearing soft reel shoes like black ballet slippers laced half a dozen times across the instep. She had even gone as far as to wear her contacts--which miraculously seemed to be behaving tonight--set her short bob into a riot of loosish curls, and give Jill another guinea pig for her newly-purchased and quite astonishing array of expensive cosmetics. Of course, the effect was marred somewhat by the crutches and Really Clunky Ankle Brace that G.T. had insisted upon; so the effect that had been...dampened by the water fight hadn't been perfect to start with. _Next time,_ she vowed to herself. _Next time I'll match any Raven regular you want to throw at me!_ But this time...she managed to sit relatively still through a Corrs song, feet--mostly the left--flitting through an air-jig as they dangled from the barstool. Then it got cruel. Somebody put on "Macarena." "Not fair!" she wailed, drawing a few amused and/or confused glances even as she bounced to the high-velocity Latin cross-rhythms. "I want to dance and I CAN'T!!!" "What if you had some help?" a familiar voice asked behind her. She thought she covered her startled yelp quite well when Nick scooped her up and whirled around, in spite of his mock wince and admonition of "Haven't you exceeded your quota of hypersonic weapons for one War?" "I have an unlimited supply," Valerie retorted, catching a glimpse of Perri's self-satisfied grin over Nick's shoulder. "So who do I owe a favor to? You or Perri?" He shrugged, deftly turning aside from a couple of enthusiastic dancers who were about to nail her injured foot. "I don't know about Perri, but you don't owe me anything. You guys did what you felt was best, and you took good care of Nat." "And threatening to beat you up?" she asked cautiously. That earned a crooked smile. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I don't plan to come to it. Good enough?" "For me. For now." She twirled her hands above her head in a flurry of syncopated snaps, forcing Nick to think fast to keep from dropping her. "And now is a *party*!" They made it through the rest of the song without mishap, and Nick returned the NatPacker to her perch. "Thanks, Nick. I needed that." "But what about *me*?" Amparo appeared out of nowhere and attached herself to Nick's arm, pouting at Valerie with genuine hurt. "How does *she* rate a dance? A free ride, yet!" "Well, she's--" Nick stopped short as he turned to see the smaller NatPacker, attired in yet another of her now-infamous shy and retiring dresses, gazing up at him in unmixed adoration. "Uh...Amparo, are you okay?" "I'm *fine* now," she purred, adhering herself even more tightly to him. If that was possible. "Yoo-hoo! Earth to Pod!" Valerie singsonged, but her friend's focus at the moment was entirely focussed on Nick's very confused face. "Never mind dancing," Pod decided. "We can stay right here." "Oh, wait a minute." There was no mistaking the invisible light bulb going on over Nick's head. Taking hold of Pod's hands before they could get anywhere embarrassing, he went on, "I think this is another one of Nat's accidents, isn't it?" Ignoring the question, Pod sighed happily, "Bluuuuuuuue eyes..." "Amparo. Listen to me. This is not you..." Valerie, watching the rather entertaining scene unfold, knew that tone. He was trying to undo Nat's unintentional whammy--one that could prove highly embarrassing if Nick ever figured out that most of the 'Pack had been acting out exaggerated versions of Nat's own personality traits!--but it didn't seem to be getting him anywhere. Pod was most certainly focussed on his eyes...and melting into a puddle of goo, and no longer hearing a *word* he said. "Looks like Knight's got the deck stacked against him again." For the third time tonight Valerie was startled by a vampire's unexpected voice, this time Vachon. At least she squelched the SqueakyNoise this time; two out of three wasn't bad. The Spanish vampire had quite enough to laugh about already. Nodding her agreement of the comment, Valerie asked, "I don't suppose you could lend him a hand? This one really isn't fair." He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. I guess the show's gone on long enough." "Thanks. I owe you one." "Yep." Vachon tapped Nick on the shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?" Nodding in relief, Nick passed Pod's hands to the younger vampire. "Please." "Niiiiiiiick!" Pod protested as Vachon turned her to face him with some difficulty. "Never mind, _pobrecita_. Now listen to me..." ********************************************************************* Swan Song (1/1) by Allison Percy, with approval from some fantasizing Knighties Location: The Raven, party in full force Time: Oh, I dunno, say 1:27am Saturday morning 8/10, or whenever it fits. A small cluster of Knighties sat at a table in the back of the Raven and grumbled that with all the people at the party, they weren't getting close enough to Nick for their liking. Just then, Allie walked in with the large, oddly-shaped package she had brought back from Toronto Trek the past Sunday morning. "Wow, what a morose bunch of Knighties you all are," she laughed. Dotti stuck her tongue out at Allie. "Nicky-poo is busy and we know we're all going to have to go home soon." Lynn sighed heavily. "I've been too shy this whole War to ask for a kiss. The rest of you all got kisses at some point." Lynn was staring particularly jealously at Dotti for some reason. Dotti closed her eyes and had a Nick Moment (tm), smiling contentedly. Allie put the package on the table and started to rip off the paper covering it. "I have just the ticket. Give me a hand here." Dotti, Carrie, Lynn, and Marg helped tear off the paper. Within minutes, the packaging was gone (carefully collected and deposited in the proper receptacle by Marg, of course) and a familiar wooden harp sat on the table. Lynn practically jumped up and down. "It's the swan harp! From Queen of Harps! Where did you get it?" Allie smiled. "I went to a charity auction on Sunday morning. I got this harp for a song, so to speak. And it came with a note explaining that it's a *magic* harp. If I play a certain tune, it will attract a person who has a connection to the harp and put him in your power for a 15 minutes." The table of Knighties pondered the implications of this. "Nick has a long-standing connection to this harp," Marg pointed out. Allie nodded. "Uh-huh." Dotti looked up at Allie, wide-eyed. "And you know how to play that magic tune?" Allie nodded again and smiled. "Yep. I had a harpist I met at the convention teach it to me before I left there." Carrie practically bounced with excitement. "Too kewl!" Allie shot her a look that would have frozen a blowtorch. Suddenly, Carrie realized that her recent attack on her fellow Knightie might have put her chances of benefitting from the magic harp in jeopardy. Carrie said hesitantly, "Um, you *have* forgiven me about the attack, haven't you? After all, everyone kept saying that an attack was a sincere form of affection in a list War, and you *know* that I love you, girl!" Allie narrowed her eyes at Carrie. "Your payback will come later. Yes, I'll let you use the harp, but only because you got me that teal Bianchi with the mini-computer. And the chocolates, of course." Carrie sighed in relief. Allie pulled out the music that she was going to have to play to bring Nick over to their table, then started laying down the ground rules. "OK, we've only got 15 minutes. And I want to play fair. Well, semi- fair. No undressing Nick. Nothing R-rated, much less X-rated. Nothing Nick would be *too* embarrassed about if he remembered it later. OK?" The Knighties nodded in agreement, although Dotti was heard to mumble, "Darn it!" after the rule about nothing X-rated was mentioned. Allie waited for a lull in the Raven music the crowd was dancing to, and then played the magic tune. The table of Knighties looked out at the crowd expectantly. Across the room, Katherine Queen was having a conversation with Nick when a thread of music wafted over toward them. This music wasn't like the typical Raven music -- although it did sound familiar. "Do you hear Fred's music?" Katherine said. But Nick had gotten a faraway look in his eyes and started wandering across the room toward the source of the tune. Katherine followed him, curious to find the source of the music. Katherine got separated from Nick in the crowd, and by the time she found him at a table with Knighties clustered around him, he was already sitting on Allie's right knee with a contented smile on his face. Allie too had a very contented smile on her face, her hand on his shoulder. Dotti was practically bouncing up and down with eagerness. "Come on, can I, can I??" Allie scowled at Dotti for interrupting her reverie, but she finally assented. "OK, but he stays on my knee while you do it." Dotti agreed eagerly. Allie whispered something in Nick's ear, and he mumbled, "Sure..." Dotti moved to stand next to her Nicky-poo. Running her fingers through his curly blond mop of blond hair, she let her eyes close and her head fall back as an ecstatic smile grew on her face. "Fluffy..." she mumbled. Katherine wandered over to Marg to ask what was happening. Marg explained about the magic harp, suggesting that Katherine ask Allie if she could join in, too. Lynn got up from her seat and put her hands on her hips. "Hey, Dotti, enough already, he'll go bald if you keep that up! My turn, already!" Dotti was simply too happy to get angry at her fellow Knightie, so she stepped aside to let the others get their shot at their favorite vampire. Allie whispered something in Nick's ear again. Nick got up and walked over to Lynn, taking her by the shoulders. "Lynn, I just wanted you to know that I think you have the *sexiest* voice I've ever heard!" The Knighties at the table got only a brief view at the look of utter shock and embarrassment on Lynn's face before Nick planted a big, soft, wet kiss right on her lips. Time passed. The kiss continued. Eventually, Lynn's knees gave out and she fell to the floor in a little heap. And a very happy little heap it was. Nick wandered back to sit on Allie's knee again. "Mmmm... soft..." Allie could be heard to mumble as she rested her head on his shoulder. Carrie came over and handed a copy of 'Knight Confessions' to Nick, along with a black felt-tipped marker. Allie whispered another suggestion in his ear, and Nick autographed the story for the author. Carrie was rather embarrassed to note that he signed it, "To Carrie, try to be gentle in future stories, love Nick." Allie whispered in Nick's ear again. Nick nodded and turned back to Carrie. "Now will you sign a copy for *me*?" Awestruck, Carrie pulled out another copy (she had a stash of them, of course) and took the pen back from Nick, neatly writing down an inscription and signing the story. Katherine crept over and whispered her request in Allie's ear. Allie's eyes brightened with amusement and she spoke to Nick again. "Nick, I think Katherine could use a neck rub. Would you mind?" "Not at all," Nick said, still with that far-away look in his eyes. Katherine sat on the floor in front of him and leaned back to enjoy her neckrub. Marg looked at her watch. "Time's running out, gals." Allie reluctantly let Nick stand up again. "Marg, what did you want to do with Nick while he's still ours?" Marg whipped out a beautiful, hand-knit vest that she had been working on throughout the War (whenever she wasn't busy knitting socks). It had 25-30 different colors in it reminiscent of a medieval Book of Hours, the pattern inspired by the Book of Kells. "I want Nick to wear this." Allie admired the vest, but she was surprised. "What, no kiss? No neckrub?" Marg just smiled and shook her head. "Nah... getting him to accept a present isn't easy, and getting him to go back to his second-season wardrobe tendencies is even harder. Just ask him to wear the vest for me." Allie nodded and whispered once more in Nick's ear. Nick put on the vest, and then the dreamy look in his eyes began to fade. "Um... hi everyone. How did I get over here?" He noticed the beautiful vest and felt the yarn appreciatively. "Wow... I have no idea how I got this vest, but it's wonderful. Makes me miss some of my old clothes, most of which I can't wear anymore because of all the bullet holes." Nick looked at the story he held in his hand. "Knight Confessions -- oh, cool, an autographed copy! Carrie, I'm so glad we worked things out between us. I understand much better why my followers write such things about me." He read the inscription on the story. "To Nick," she had written, "never forget that there is a reason for you. You *do* deserve to be loved. Have faith, Carrie." Tears began to form in Nick's eyes. He gathered Carrie in a warm hug. Suddenly Nick noticed the harp sitting on the table. "How did that get here? I thought it was supposed to be in Wales." Allie jumped in with a carefully-prepared reply. "Someone accidentally let it go onto the antique art market -- I picked it up a week ago at a charity auction. Don't worry, I'll donate it right back to the Museum of the Giant's Hand in Carreg. It has already served its purpose here, anyway." Nick seemed to accept the explanation. Someone called out to Nick from the other side of the room, and he smiled at the small cluster of his followers. "Gotta go. See you!" The group of Knighties sighed wistfully (in unison, of course). Lynn had climbed up from her heap on the floor and was trying to figure out whether she could avoid ever washing her lips again. Marg sat back down to start knitting a sweater for... well, for whichever vampire or mortal needed a sweater in the next War. Katherine wandered off, looking relaxed after her neckrub. Dotti looked down at her hands and realized that she had accidentally pulled a whole clump of Nick's hair out while she was fondling it. She stuffed the clump of hair in her pocket quickly, before anyone else could notice. Allie gathered up the harp and picked her way through a forest of chairs toward the door. "Ow!" she cried as she bashed her right knee into a chair she hadn't noticed until too late. "Not the same knee, again!" She grumbled as she took the harp out, its magic well spent. -fin- Many, many thanks to all whose creativity, energy, organizational skills, patience, and sense of humor made this War great fun. I wonder if I'll ever get all the War posts read!! Thanks, ********************************************************************* Crazy as the Cracks in This Old Guitar by Perri Smith with the Leader Loop Aug 10, 3:30 a.m. or thereabouts The Raven At the end of the Raven party The party was going full swing, with no signs of slowing and no visible crises, Perri mused over her Baileys -- Nick had managed to survive every conversation so far, no one had killed anyone else, and Knighties and NatPackers were drinking together more or less happily. Not a bad night's work. Except that there were a few Knighties and NatPackers not drinking together.... She downed her drink, got another, caught Cath's eye, and crossed the room to Jennie's table. "Can we talk somewhere?" "Sure," Jennie said without looking up, staring somewhat cross-eyed into her drink, which was, Perri noticed with satisfaction, *not* orange. Looked like the reversed whammy had stuck. "The office?" she suggested after a second. "Why not? Eeveryone else is." Perri headed over and Jennie dragged herself to her feet to follow; Valerie tagged along apparently for the hell of it, and Perri didn't feel like protesting. Jennie closed the door behind all of them. Someone had stashed a table and chairs in here at one point -- probably a good thing, given all of that evening's conferences -- and they made a beeline for it. "Thanks." Perri pulled out a chair and sank into it, hiding her bare feet -- she'd disposed of her soggy shoes hours before -- under the table. Jennie followed suit. "Jeez, I haven't been to a party like this since Sanctuary. Music's better here, though." "At least no one's shouting 'Let's get naked'," Jennie agreed, looking up with a small smile. Valerie snorted into her drink, taking a seat across from the other two. "Give 'em time," Perri grinned, slouching down in her seat and kicking her feet out. "If certain members of this crew get drunk enough, there's no telling what'll happen. It's been that kind of war." "Tell me about it," Jennie groaned, taking a long drink. "I need sleep. Why does everything in a war happen at night?" "Vampires," Perri and Valerie explained succinctly and simultaneously. "Right." Jennie stared into her drink some more. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Natalie," she said abruptly. Perri shrugged. "You were keeping her safe, I know. I'll live, so will she. End of story. Besides, if I'd known where she was, I don't think I would have been able to keep it from Nick, and who knows what would have happened." "Yeah." Jennie smiled again. "Things could have gotten *really* ugly." Perri started to comment, stopped and took another drink. "Right. And I'm sorry I got in your face a little while ago." "Me, too," Jennie agreed softly. Then Perri grinned again, mischievously.. "But I'm *not* sorry about the bucket of water." Jennie started laughing instantly. "Well, I'm not sorry about putting the hose down your shirt, so there!" Perri started laughing as well, and the tension between them was gone. It was that easy. "At least someone's having fun," Cath said, pulling up a chair of her own, having somehow managed to open the door without any of the others noticing. "Someone just tried to pick me up." "Mortal or vamp?" Perri asked curiosly. "Hey, I'm not sure if it was male or female," Cath said with disgust, which naturally set the other two off again. "Too much fun in here," Dianne said, appearing next to them, Christina behind her. "We'll have to get someone to cite you for that -- I think it's against the rules." "We are Warmistress," Cath shrugged. "We make the rules." "Hah," Torrey said mildly from Perri's other side, Sherri echoing her. "We don't need no stinking rules." "Hey," Lisa McDavid and Tok protested, "That's a Cousin line." Perri looked around her, mystified. "Where did you all come from?" "Illinois." "California." "Washington." Perri rolled her eyes as everyone wise-cracked at once. "Never mind." "Are we having a meeting?" Partly asked perkily, materializing out of thin air, Soulseeker right next to her. "Did we move the party in here?" Tigon waved her mineral water in greeting, cradling Timon with the other hand. "No, it's a meeting," Felicia said. "If it was a meeting, more fur would be flying," Susan observed. She and Cynthia were carrying trays of appropriate drinks. Laura was behind them; Perri was beyond surprise at everyone's ability to walk through walls. "True," Dianne agreed, reaching for her Virgin Blood. Perri and Cath instantly started snickering and got a dirty look from the Merc. "Like, very cute," she snarled. Perri and Cath only grinned wider. "You know, everyone's going to be wondering what we're doing in here," Cath pointed out. "Let 'em," Jennie waved their respective factions off. "We've got more important things to do." "Amen. Let's fight." "Noooo... I have a better idea." ******** An hour later, they still hadn't emerged, and said factions were starting to wonder. "What do you think they're doing in there?" a Knightie actually whispered to a Cousin. The Cousin just looked mystified. "Leader stuff, I guess. Either that, or they decided to hold a duel." The two listened for death cries, then exchanged looks. "Nah!" "Sure must be important, though," a nearby NatPacker mused. A Die-Hard yawned. "Yeah, they haven't even come out for more drinks." "There's a refrigerator in there," a Ravenette pointed out. "They're plotting," a Merc decided. "The overthrow of USA Network, I bet." "Yeah," everyone agreed enthusiastically. Then, having decided that their leaders were involved in important, appropriately leader-like work, they went back to partying, secure in the world. ******* Snores filled the air. The leaders were sprawled everywhere, sleeping their first uninterrupted sleep since arriving in Toronto. Perri was on the floor, her head resting on Jennie, who had produced a NatMare seemingly from thin air to use as a pillow. Valerie shared the tail of the NatMare. Partly lay on her back under Janette's desk, while Lisa had appropriated the top; Susan snored in the chair. Cynthia half-sat, half-lay on the floor using Susan's feet as a pillow. Cath was at the table, head down on the wood -- and scribbled quotes all over her body, where someone (read: Jennie and Perri) had run out of paper for a quote list and resorted to every single wall and, finally, Cath. Christina was curled in a uncomfortable-looking knot next to Tigon and Timon (the vamp-rat was using the Merc as a bed); Laura snoozed in a corner next to Felicia. Soulseeker slept quietly in a heap with Torrey and Sherri, while Dianne sprawled on her back in front of the open and emptied refrigerator, her feet inside and her arms outstretched. Peacefully, they dreamed of vampires and caddies and trips to Toronto and laughter and chocolate. ********************************************************************* A Conversation With Nick (1/1) by Sandra Gray, Knightie Saturday, August 10, sometime after returning to the loft after the Raven party (whatever time suits) Sandra jerked awake, head throbbing slightly. She looked around in some confusion for LaCroix, then realized with relief that she had only been dreaming of him again and she was in the loft. The other Knighties were all dead to the world around her. Sandra got up off the floor, a little dizzily. She still had some remnants of her drunken state apparently, although she could tell she was heading for one hell of a hangover. But at the moment she really needed to use the bathroom. She picked her way over to the stairs and up them, trying to remain quiet. It was only after she was in the upstairs bathroom that she remembered the bathroom downstairs. "Oh well, fogged brains go with the territory," she thought she thought (but actually said). She finished and washed her hands. She remembered to cut off the light before opening the door so as not to disturb anyone. But when she opened the door, she almost shrieked at the male outline in front of her. A hand quickly covered her mouth and Nick's voice whispered, "It's just me, Nick." He removed his hand. Sandra let out a huge breath. "Geez, you scared me!" she whispered. "Sorry," he whispered back. "It's okay. Sorry if I disturbed you." "Actually, you didn't. I've been wanting to talk to you." Sandra couldn't see his face too well in the dark hallway, so couldn't judge his expression. "Now?" "Yeah. We can talk in my bedroom." Sandra blinked twice, wondering if she was still dreaming, but didn't resist as Nick took her arm and guided her over to his bedroom door. He ushered her inside and she blinked again as he switched on the light. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing toward the bed. Sandra hesitated, looking at him. It didn't help that he was clad in black silk pajamas and his red brocade robe. "Better not go there," she thought. "What?" asked Nick. She realized she'd spoken aloud again and felt her face getting warm. "Um, sorry," she said. "Um, could this wait until later? I don't think I--" "It's about LaCroix, what happened at the Raven earlier." His expression was serious, but concerned, and he looked disinclined to step away from his spot in front of the door. Sandra turned away and sat a bit unsteadily on the corner of Nick's bed. "Great," she murmured, then realized she'd spoken another thought aloud. She looked up at Nick with wide eyes. "I'm not a Cousin!" "Shhhh!" hissed Nick, approaching her. He smiled and said, "I know." He sat beside her on the bed and took her hand. "I heard some of your conversation with him." Sandra looked away, and tried to ignore the sensations his nearness and the touch of his hand on hers was having. He released her hand and moved away from her a bit. She looked at him. "I just hoped you'd give me some more details." he said. "Details?" "I heard LaCroix mention giving you some tapes and account information." Sandra looked at the floor. "It was after the last war...about two weeks. He brought what he said were all the videotapes of...he and I in the wine cellar." "What did you do with them?" "I destroyed them." "And the account information?" "He gave me information about an account he said he'd opened for me to...get revenge." "Did he say...why he was doing what he was doing?" Sandra shook her head. "No. Well, other than if I used the account, I would agree to become a Cousin." She paused and added, "It didn't make any sense." Then she looked at him suddenly and added, "I didn't use it." Nick studied her for a moment, his expression turning a bit guilty. "I haven't been of much help to you with getting revenge, have I? I'm sorry." Sandra looked back at the floor. This serious talk was getting her more sober. "It's okay," she said. "My problems pale by comparison to yours." Nick stood up and paced the room. He seemed to be more agitated and she frowned, wondering what else was wrong. Finally he stopped and looked at her. "Sandra, I..." He came back over to the bed and sat down again. "I have something to tell you. It's part of why I wanted to talk with you privately, since I don't know...what you'll think." He paused. Sandra stared at him, feeling a bit of dread. It was his turn to look at the floor. "Remember when I said I'd find out how you... survived being locked up with LaCroix?" Sandra looked at her feet, not wanting to have the memory of Nick's anger at her when he'd found her alive in the cellar. But it came anyway. She pushed it aside and said, "Yes." "Well, I found out that information at the Raven." Sandra looked at Nick. He raised his blue gaze to her. "Sandra...I found out you're a...direct mortal descendant of LaCroix." Sandra stared at him open mouthed for a moment, then blinked and said, "What?" "It's true. I...didn't know if you'd want it mentioned in front of the others." Sandra stood up and walked away from Nick. LaCroix was her...great, great, great, whatever...*grandfather*? Nick came up behind her and said, "Apparently he...kept track of his mortal descendants. And he's...well...big on family." Sandra turned and looked at Nick. "Well, I know it's not enough, but...I thought you'd like to know why you survived." "Yeah," said Sandra. "Thank you. For telling me privately too." Nick smiled tentatively and said, "Guess that sort of makes us kin." Sandra smiled. "Kissing cousins?" Then she realized what she'd said and clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling her face getting warm again. She removed her hand and said, "Sorry. Too many Zombies, I guess. Um, can I go now?" "Sure," said Nick. "We both need some sleep." He put an arm around her and walked her over to the door. He switched off the light and opened the door. After a moment to get used to the dark, Sandra walked away, pondering the new wrinkle in her existence. ********************************************************************* A Conversation with LaCroix (1/1) by Sandra Gray, Knightie (with permission of Lisa McDavid) Saturday, August 10, sometime in the early a.m. (wherever it fits) Sandra stepped out of the bathroom and looked around. Where was Bruce? Still in the men's room? He was usually quicker than her. "He's gone to the bar," came a male voice and Sandra looked up to find LaCroix suddenly way too close beside her for comfort. Swallowing, she said, "Thank you," and started to step away from him. A cool hand on her elbow detained her and made her heart leap into her throat. "Allow me to get you a drink," said the vampire. "I won't...bite." His cold blue gaze was unnerving and she looked away. "Let go of me." "Now that would be impolite of me as your escort. And I am hurt, considering that you once wanted me to be...much closer." He moved closer to her, and almost whispered the last two words into her ear. Sandra's mind filled with an image of LaCroix's white marble body pressing against her body as she laid on the floor of the Raven wine cellar, his cool lips on hers... She felt the heat rising in her body and tried to push the memory away. "Actually I am disappointed in you," continued LaCroix. "Disappointed?" said Sandra, her mind focusing back on the present. "When I gave you the tapes and the account information, I expected you to take revenge against those who...wronged you, last war." "This wasn't supposed to be a war. I came here to help Nick." "Ah, yes, Nicolas," sighed LaCroix. "He does seem to inspire loyalty in *most* of his followers." They had reached the end of the bar. Sandra looked at LaCroix. "At least his followers don't *attack* him," she said. LaCroix's eyes darkened and his grip on her elbow tightened slightly. She worried that she had gone too far, but he suddenly let her go, his eyes shifting beyond her. "Zombie, wasn't it?" he asked, then signalled the bartender. A recognizable white hand came down on the bar beside Sandra and Nick's voice said, "What are you doing, LaCroix?" "Just getting the...lady a drink," LaCroix replied, as a Zombie was set in front of Sandra. The vampire bowed slightly and moved away. Sandra looked up at Nick, whose blue eyes were questioning. Then Bruce was suddenly there beside him. Nick glanced at Bruce and moved away. ********************************************************************* A Letter to the Perkulators (1/1) by Tigon Diana Hooker/AlphaWoof~WoofPack (and lawyer's kid) Saturday/10 AUG 1996/Daytime Delivered by Process Server and Signed For by a Perkulator Madam, My client has retained me to represent her in your claim that she is responsible for damages incurred by you during a flea infestation. Your primary support that she and her affiliation, the WoofPack, is responsible is a copy of the letter below. "Noswaith dda, Your headquarters and members have been infested with vampire fleas. While we're sure you want to solve this situation on your own, we feel that we should point out certain possible hazards. 1. Anything that can kill a vampire flea will probably seriously harm any vampires that the flea might be infesting. 2. While it's obvious that the fleas will combust in the sun...a warning. Enough of the fleas combusting at once *can* combust the person or object the fleas are infesting. The same holds true for most other vampiric remedies. 3. Flea sprays and whatnot will have no effect, so don't destroy the ozone any more than it already is. A bright note, vampfleas don't breed. Have fun...we did! Upon review of this document, I'm sure you'll notice that nowhere in this letter does my client and her group claim responsibility for your infestation. According to my client, it was while she was returning some articles of clothing to you that she herself was infested. Having dealt with these things before, she thought it a courtesy to inform you that you were obviously infested, and to warn you of potential dangers. If you persist in pressing your suit, my client will be forced to file a countersuit for her own damages as a result of infestation, as well as sue you for slander. Sincerly, Hal Greenburg, Esq. ********************************************************************* I Am Outta Here! By Diane Echelbarger & AJ Schaafsma, unaffiliated, and Carla Pickering, Vaquera Dr. Wetmore used with permission of Lana Soward Saturday, August 10, 10:03am Toronto General Hospital "Now remember," Dr. Wetmore told his patient, "You're not to exert yourself for the next few days. Use that wheelchair if you have to go anywhere, and rest at the first sign of fatigue. I really should keep you here for at least another day, you know." "I promise," Diane told him with complete sincerity. Bad enough she'd missed most of the War, and Nick and Nat's reunion last night (not to mention the water fight and karaoke fest). She'd have promised almost anything to avoid missing the rest of the parties. "Good." The doctor-- who really did look amazingly like LaCroix-- smiled at her and walked away. AJ, who was standing behind her friend's wheelchair, said, "Shall we go?" "Definitely! Get me *outta* here!" Diane agreed. They moved to the fourth-floor elevator and rode down to the lobby. As AJ pushed her friend toward the entrance, a tall, fiftyish woman, with short, heavily frosted, reddish-blond hair and wire-rimmed glasses, rose from a seat in the waiting area. "Diane?" she asked. "I'm Carla Pickering. I volunteered to help you get around while you're stuck in that thing." She smiled sheepishly. "We never meant for this to happen. Honest." "I know," Diane assured her with a smile. "I was pretty stupid, really. I *do* know better than to get between a hungry vampire and his food supply." She turned to AJ. "You still want to stick around, or do you have better things to do with your time?" "I'll stick around," AJ replied. "Carla might want some help pushing you up hills or something." "Okay, then why don't you bring the car around?" Diane suggested, fishing her keys out of her pocket. she thought. "Will do." AJ took the keys and disappeared in the general direction of the parking lot. "Can you drive a stick shift?" Diane asked her new chair-pusher. Carla assured her she could, then added, "Um... Torrey said I was supposed to ask you for the hospital bill? The Vaqueros are covering it." "There isn't one," Diane replied with a grin, and when the Vaquera looked puzzled, she explained. "I was going to let the confusion with the attack on me Thursday slide," she began. "After all, it wasn't their fault. But yesterday afternoon, this really smarmy lawyer-type came up to my room and tried to get me to sign a form releasing the hospital from any responsibility for my falling out of bed and being dressed up like that. The weasel actually had the nerve to tell me it was 'a standard release form'." She scowled, and the Vaquera snorted sympathetically. "Anyway, having someone assume I'm stupid always gets me gets me riled, so I told him off." Diane's scowl turned into a grin at the memory. "By the time I was done telling him exactly how many things I could legally sue the hospital for, *and* suggesting that my friend, Tawny Teller (ed note: the reporter from Unreality TV) would *love* to do an expose on how the hospital hired people who dressed their unconscious patients in kinky costumes, he was ready to agree to just about anything." She shrugged. "So I got him to write off my hospital bills. No billing me, my insurance, nobody." "Well, that's a relief," the Vaquera said. "Because, to be honest, we weren't sure how we were going to pay it." At that moment, a rust-speckled white Chevy Sprint pulled up to the loading zone. "That's my car," Diane said, and Carla pushed her through the automatic doors. "Where to first?" Carla asked, when Diane was ensconced in the front passenger seat, her wheelchair was stowed in the back, and AJ had scrunched herself into the cramped back seat. "The ROM," Diane replied. "I want to see that exhibit." ********************************************************************* Good Knight, Sweetheart (1/2) by the Knighties Aug 10, 1:30 p.m. The *Knighties'* Loft Maryann looked around the loft. It had been fun (kind of wet, but fun). She knew that she would see everyone again. But that was for the next War. She would be flying home with Tigon and the WoofPack on the jet that Jody had provided. She walked over and hugged Marcia good bye. "I've got your Knightie shirt done. I'll get it to you as soon as I can." Marcia replied, "Thanks, after my ironing mishap with the first one, I'm glad you're handling it. I'll look for it in snail mail." Next came the good-byes to Dottie, Allie and the rest of the Knighties. "Thanks for everything", Maryann said, giving Cath and Perri a hug. "This was great. You two should start Wars more often." Then, with a sideways glance at Nick, "Or maybe he should." Next came Nick. The whole reason that they were all here. (That, plus the added attraction of causing a little mayhem) "Be careful on the way home", Nick said as he enveloped Maryann in bear hug. "Thanks for coming when I needed you." The kiss on her forehead and the hug made her day (or Knight). With a soft "You're welcome, I'd do it anytime" Maryann was ready to leave. ******* Katrinka made the rounds, hugging everyone she met, then scooped up her luggage. She sure hoped her professors would take late assignments, or she was going to be in a whole lot of trouble when she got back to school. And she hoped her child hadn't forgotten about mommy after all this time. ******* Nancy finished her packing and sighed. It was going to be nearly as hard leaving her new friends as it had been to leave her family and travel to Toronto in the first place. As a newbie to the Wars, she really hadn't expected to see much action, but the adventures she had had with her new-found friends warmed her. She knew she would take back fond memories of her first war. She looked around the loft and spotted a knot of Knighties telling Nick goodbye. She, of course, went over to receive her farewell hug from her favorite vamp. She then sought out Perri and Cath and thanked them for inviting her. "Hope that you'll see fit to call me again for the next war," she smiled at her co-leaders, giving them both big hugs. They returned the hugs with enthusiasm. Robbi, her partner in mayhem for the war, came to hug her goodbye. Nancy was nearly in tears at the parting. She had to hug Carrie and Dotti too, as well as her fellow war correspondents Marg, Suze, and Katrinka. She spotted Karen in another corner and went to hug her too. It had been a fine war, with many new friends made. Nancy was most definately looking forward to her next trip to Toronto.... (and her family was just going to have to *cope*!) ******** Karen moved around the loft, distributing packets of fresh-baked cookies to each Knightie. She had made her best effort to find out everyone's favorites and had spent several hours baking so everyone would have something for the road. (A package had been shipped to Amy as well. Just because she wasn't here, didn't mean she didn't deserve a treat!) Many hugs were exchanged as she made her way through the Knighties. When she reached Nick, he looked pointedly at her now empty hands. "What, nothing for me?," he pouted, pretending hurt. "Don't worry, Nick. I left a nice bowl of raw cookie dough in the fridge for you." "Ugh!" He pretended to shudder, but was smiling. This was an old joke between them. They hugged, then she pulled back and looked up at him. "You _will_ keep in touch this time? No more disappearing acts?" "No disappearing acts." he affirmed, reaching again to adjust the one lock of hair he knew drove her crazy. He hugged her again and she felt his kiss on her hair. Then she reached for her suitcase and headed for the elevator. Turning back, she waved to the remaining Knighties, and called "See you all next time!" ***** Marcia's van was loaded and ready to go. They'd stop at the airport first, with the first wave of travelors, then head back to the States. Perri waved good-bye to Julie, hugged Kathy one last time, and watched them pull out of the garage. Inside, it was still minor chaos. She sat on Marg's suitcases, teasing her about bringing her whole life to stay at a place almost next dor to her home. She mediated a fight over the Casa Loma souveniers between Suzanne and Robbi, and firmly forced Dottie to return Nick's socks to him, so he could finish packing. ******** Sandra watched out the window as the first wave of Knighties made their departure. As they pulled away, she saw Bruce round the corner in his rental car. She turned away from the window and walked over to Catherine and Perri. "Bruce is here," she said. "Well, it's been interesting, but I'll be glad to get back to the mundane world, my daughter's swimming lessons, and my bed!" The field marshalls laughed and Sandra smiled. Then she sobered and said, "Thanks for including me, Perri." Perri shrugged, grinning just a little. "Hey, it wouldn't be a war without Sandra, you know." Sandra said her goodbyes to them and the Knighties still left. Bruce had come up and was talking to Allie. Sandra walked over to Nick. "I hope you'll keep better track of your accounts in the future." Nick smiled sheepishly. "I will. I promise." "Well, take care of yourself." She felt tears start in her eyes and blinked. Nick glanced over at Bruce, then back at Sandra. "I hope he won't mind," he said in a low voice. "What?" "This," he said and caught Sandra into a tight hug. "Thanks," he whispered into her ear. He kissed her cheek. Then he pulled back slightly and looked at her with a wry smile. "You didn't really think you were going to get away without one of these, did you?" Sandra squeezed his arms, then wiped at the tears on her cheeks. She moved back and he released her. "'Bye, Nick," she said, then added with a slight smile, "If you're ever in my neck of the woods, come and visit." Nick smiled wider. "I will. 'Bye, Sandra. Take care. And give Amy my regards." Sandra smiled and said, "I will." Then she turned and walked over to Bruce. "You ready?" he said. "Yeah." He picked up her suitcase. She took his arm and after a final "'Bye all!", they left the loft. ******** The second wave left with Marg. Siona, Paula and Karen Swanson shouted good-byes from the window until they turned the corner at the end of the street. Katherine, Bobbie and Melissa collected their Nick hugs and caught a cab, teary-eyes but smiling. Courtney, Dottie and Robbi collected even longer hugs, and regards for Amy Rambow and Nina, before they, too, took off. Allie was just about the last non-leader to leave; she leaned against Nick for a long time before smiling up at him. "You *will* stay in touch this time, won't you?" He grinned down at her and nodded. "Of course I will. I'm afaid to do anything else." "Well, you should be," she laughed, kissing his cheek and putting on her bike helmet. "Don't forget to give my good-bye note to Carrie. You, uh, can give the old bike to charity or something. It's too red for me now." She rolled her spiffy new, teal green Bianchi racing bike into the loft elevator. "Take care of each other," Allie said to Cath and Perri. They nodded in synch, exchanged hugs, then waved her on her way. Allie blew Nick a last kiss as the loft elevator closed, then started playing with the Minipad computer and checking her e-mail. ********************************************************************* Good Knight, Sweetheart (2/2) by Allison Percy Aug 10, 2:00 p.m. The *Knighties'* Loft Immediately after part 1 Perri and Cath headed up to the bedroom to try to finish packing. Nick went up to the balcony and looked down at the loft, which now seemed quite empty and sad without all the sleeping bags and snoring Knighties on the floor. Just then, Carrie arrived back at the loft from her last-minute shopping. She looked around, surprised to find it seemingly empty. Had all the other Knighties gone home already? Hadn't anyone bothered to find her and say good-bye? She was still trying to decide whether to feel hurt when a voice called to her from the balcony above. "Carrie." She looked up and saw Nick. "Hi," she mumbled morosely. She was really starting to think that maybe the other Knighties were avoiding her. She hadn't *meant* to cause the others to distrust her -- everyone kept saying that attack was a sincere form of *affection*, for goodness sake! "I heard you had some trouble with Allie," Nick called down to the sulking Knightie. "Yeah, I don't think she'll forgive me until she's had a chance to retaliate. And I think it's too late to do that -- there is only a little bit of time left before the end of the war!" Nick smiled at her impishly. "I wouldn't worry too much about that. What did she say to you when she found out that you were the one who had her covered in red body paint?" Carrie winced at the reminder. "Basically, she said I was in trouble. In her own cute little way." Nick pressed her with another question. "No, what *exactly* did she say when she found out. I'm curious." Carrie looked at him, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "She said I was toast," Carrie whispered. Nick was silent for a moment. "Could you say that louder?" Carrie was a bit confused. Nick's vampiric hearing should have picked up that whisper, although admittedly it was too quiet for human ears to discern. But just to indulge her favorite vampire, she repeated herself more loudly. "Allie said, and I quote, 'OH...MY...GOD!!! SHE'S TOAST!!!!'" As Carrie said these words, the voice-activated trigger above her recognized the words and released the hatch to the box hanging from the ceiling -- a box which Carrie had helpfully not noticed thanks to a patented Convenient Plot Device, or CPD (tm), which Allie had developed. A huge pile of toasted bread fell down in a shower on the unwitting nurse/hampster. For several minutes the deluge continued -- whole wheat toast, white toast, burnt toast, French toast, toast with jam of a dozen different varieties. English muffins with orange marmalade, toasted bagels with cream cheese, and even a few generously buttered scones dropped down on her head. After several minutes, Carrie decided that the deluge had probably stopped and began wading out from the huge pile of various types of toast. She was covered in jam, cream cheese, cinnamon sugar, and melted butter. Her outfit was ruined. She just now noticed that someone had moved the furniture out of the way before she arrived (another CPD [tm]). Nick walked down the stairs and stared at the jam-covered, "toasted" Knightie. Another English muffin belatedly dropped out of the box above, bounced off the pile of toast, and landed on Carrie's shoulder. Marmalade-side down, of course. "I believe this makes you the Toasted Knightie, then." Carrie stared back at him with a dazed look in her eyes. A large dollop of black currant jelly was slowly dripping down her nose. Nick handed Carrie a note and walked back up the stairs, turning to say over his shoulder, "Oh, by the way -- the other Knighties all voted to have you clean up the loft. They'd like it spic-and-span before it's closed up for the next war." Carrie groaned and looked at the note Nick had given to her. She recognized Allie's handwriting. Carrie -- Yeah, attack is a sincere form of affection, girl. I must really love you, then. Your buddy, Allie the Red P.S. Retribution is fun -- thanks for letting me find out! Perri appeared to look over the railing. "Geez, what kind of a Knightie attacks her own," she grinned without malice. Groaning again, crumpling up the note and tossing it into the pile of toast, Carrie stumbled over to the closet to get out the mops and brooms. ********************************************************************* The Nick&Nat Pack's Forever Night (1/?) by Raymond E. Heuer & the N&NPack Sunday, August 11, 1996, 9:00 PM Die-Hard HQ The N&NPackers arrived at the Museum fashionably late and in small groups (due to the lack of forethought given to parking facilities by the Die-Hards). They showed their invitations to the guard, who by this time had given up checking and just waved them all through. "Hey, Souvlaki!" cried several N&NPackers. "And Pizza!" answered others. "No matter what the Affiliation, everyone is a FoD at heart," said one of the caterers from the Happy Souvlaki Deli. "Besides," said Friday, "the extra garlic acts as a deterent in ... shall we say ... mixed company?" "No need to mince words, my dear," said Ron the Enforcer, appearing, as usual, out of thin air. "Or garlic either," said the caterer, "we use crushed garlic, not minced." "Where did you come from?" asked Friday, finally regaining the power of speech. "That, my dear, is an _extremely_ long story," said Ron. "Ron the Enforcer, I presume," said Ray. "Not an Enforcer today. You might say I'm off-duty." "Friday, this is Ron the Enforcer, Die-Hard co-leader, and our host for the evening." "One of them, anyway," added Ron. "But I thought Enforcers were never off-duty," said Friday. "To every rule, there are exceptions, Besides," Ron growled, "if I _weren't_ off-duty, I'd be forced to dipose of everyone at this opening. That would cast somewhat of a pall on the proceedings, don't you agree?" "You could bring us all over," said Idalia. Something in her voice suggested that she might be volunteering. "I think I'd better bring you all inside, instead." "Will you be giving us the tour yourself?" Ray asked. "Yes. Since some of you are also of the 'Nat Vamp Camp'," the Enforcer made a face as if he found the words distasteful, "it could be said that your contingent supports two vampires." He paused. "Or one-and- a-half, perhaps. In any case, it was ... decided ... that I would be your tour guide. The tour itself will only take 10 or 15 minutes, and then you may enjoy the Museum and this eating area as you please. "One last thing, as the sign notes, there is no eating drinking, or smoking allowed inside the Museum." The N&NPackers followed the Enforcers pointing finger. Below the printed words were written, "However, Drooling over, Lusting about, and Coveting objects contained herein is o-kay." The Enforcer either didn't notice them, or pretended not to notice. "I'm told that they have a room for each Affiliation," Ray said to Idalia, "and a few spares for Affiliations that don't exist yet." "Do you suppose they have a room for Thomas?" she asked. "The kid vampire from _Father's Day_?" "Yeah. Pat McLaughlin only started an Affiliation a few days before the War." "Yes, but Thomas has been a major figure in fanfic, so I guess they'll have something for him." "Maybe one large room for all those great characters that only appeared in one episode," suggested Susan. "Like Feliks Twist and Francesca?" asked Ray. "And Miklos, don't forget Miklos," said Heather, nudging Ray in the ribs. "Here's the entrance," said Ray trying not to chuckle, "should we wait for the others?" "That might take all night, but we should at least wait for Laura," said Susan. "Have you noticed how tired she looks?" asked Idalia. "Warleader fatigue, it'll pass with the first good night's sleep after the War," said Ray, trying to sound like the veteran he wasn't. "'The Forever Knight Museum: Enter Here'," said Laura, reading the large sign posted by the entrance. "I guess we go in here." Continued in (How'd you guess?) Part 2 ********************************************************************* The N&NPack's Forever Night 2/3 by Raymond E. Heuer & the N&NPack Inside the Forever Knight Museum Sunday, August 11,1996 (Immediately follows Part 1) "Naturally enough," began Ron the Enforcer, "the tour begins here at the entry way. Over there will be the cashier's window for ticket sales. Tonight we are using it for a coat check, should anyone feel overdressed." He paused, glancing down at his own trademark duster, but made no attempt to remove it. A few of the N&NPackers removed coats and jacket, but most of the women retained their sweaters. Switching back to Tour Guide mose, Ron continued, "You will notice a number of video monitors, intermixed with several publicity photos. The vidoe clips were chosen for visual effect, and are intermixed according to a rigorous mathematical model relating to each character's time on screen. There is also another discriminator program that ensures that the same clip is never shown on two monitors at once. The photos were chosen to balance the clips, and, as you can see, include the cast photos from all three seasons, individual shots and pairs shots, one for each affilation devoted to one or more major characters ..." "How did you decide which characters were _major_?" asked Scott. "'Listed before the first commercial' was the criterion, I believe. It eliminated Divia and Perri, but you have to draw the line somewhere." Further discussion was cut off by Tia's "Here's they are! Kewl!" The N&Ners clustred around a photo of, naturally, Nick and Nat. Nat was wearing something off both shoulders, and Nick was nuzzling her right cheek from behind. "Where is this from?" asked Heather. "Don't _you_ know?" replied Ron. They were cut off by a "Look, it's Nat facing down LC in _NiQ_!" from Ray. "Yes, well, if you'll all follow me..." Ron headed for the next room, not noticing (or caring) who followed. "This is the model prop room. In this large case in the center is a scale model of the city of Toronto, complete with scale model individual trees and cars. You will notice from the lack of traffic jams in the downtown section that it is only loosely based in reality. "Along the walls are the large props. There is the spear carried by Marion Blackwing's grandfather in _Blackwing_, over there, the (no longer-)flaming stake used against LaCroix in _Dark Knight_, and at the far end of the room, the cross Nick burned his hand on in _For I Have Sinned_" The N&Ners, understanding why Ron was uncomfrotable around that particular prop, moved on. "This is the Vehicle room. Scale models only, I'm afraid, the originals are either still in circulation or damaged beyond repair." Along the walls of the room were arrayed all manner of vehicles. Nick's caddy, the motorcycles, even Tracy's bicycle! On one wall, a video monitor ran a compilation of chases, crashes, explosions, and other vehicular mayhem from the show. One clip conspicuously absent was a certain plane explosion. "Actually, there is one 'vehicle' here," Ron amended, "along that wall is the railway car set used to film the 'Hitler' scenes from _Jane Doe_." "This room is the Knight Art Gallery. Detective Knight has kindly loaned us some of his paintings for display here. We are negotiating for the right to sell reproductions in the Gift Shop." The N&Ners passed rooms devoted to Nick, LaCroix, Nat, Vachon, all three Captains, Screed, Urs, and even Divia, but were beginning to grumble. "All right," said Ron, "I know what you want! The couples wing is this way ..." As he led the forward, Ron elaborated, "perhaps a better name for this area would be 'twosomes'. In addition to the romantic couples like ..." "Nick and Nat!" yelled several impatient voices. " ... Nick and Nat," continued Ron, unruffled, "there are also rooms devoted to Nick and Schanke, Nick and Tracy, and other couples whose realtionship was not of a romantic nature. In addition, at the end of the hall, there is a room indelicately titled the 'Neck of the Week' exhibit noting those ...." "Nick and Nat! Nick and Nat! Nick and Nat!" the crowd began to chant. "All right! Here!" Ron indicated the doorway in exasperation. "That concludes the tour of the Forever Knight Museum! Thank you and come again." Ron vanished in a puff of smoke. "Hey!" called Tia down the hall, "No smoking in the Museum!" in part 3: The Nick & Nat room! ********************************************************************* The Nick&Nat Pack's Forever Night (3/3) by Raymond E. Heuer & the N&NPack Sunday, August 11, 1996 (Immediately following Part 2) The Nick&Nat Room, Forever Knight Museum The Nick&Nat Room was arranged something like a movie theatre, with a large-screen TV at the apex of a "V" shape showing various Nick&Nat episodes. When the N&Ners entered, _Be My Valentine_ had just started. The contrast of the screen had been carefully adjusted to allow full clarity, even though the room was lit well enough to see where one was going (barely). The teaser ended, and the screen showed various stills of Nick and Nat (that is, both of them in each shot) in a heart-shaped frame. The N&Ners took the opportunity to find seats. "I just realized," said Idalia, "the seats are arranged in pairs! How romantic!" "But not very practical when those entering aren't couples," worried Ray. "Oh, stop being a man and sit next to me!" she demanded. "All right, but remember, I'm not a man." Idalia's rejoinder was cut off by Scott calling, "look here in the back, cases of props arranged in two horseshoe-shapes, from the door to the back of the seating section." "Don't you see it?" said Judith. "The entire room is one huge heart!" A chorus of "Awwwwwww's" enveloped the room. The "commercial" break ended, and everyone found seats to watch the episode. At the end of Act I, Tina and Heather noticed that along either wall were some of the more feminine outfits that Nat had worn, apparently to make an impression on Nick. "I wondered why the outfits in the Nat room were all severe and 'professional-looking'," said Heather, "the good ones were all in here. I wonder what the NatPack will think of this?" "After the way they his Nat away from us, why should we care what they think?" said Ray, who had, for reasons of his own, abandoned his seat near Idalia. "Hey look!" He pointed to a beige pantsuit with a peek (or is that peak) or creme lace at the bodice, "it's Nat's 'virgin sacrifice' outfit from..." "Stop! You will not name that episode! It does not exist!" Ray couldn't tell whose voice or voices this was, but he hurried back to Idlaia's side and kept quiet. Eventually several episodes were watched, and several displays were examined, including a syringe with a bottle labelled "Litovuterine", a bowl of popcorn, a blender which may or may not have contaied a protein shake, and a bullet in an evidence bag labelled "Janette de Brabant", as well as several wonderful photos, but if I try to describe them all, it will be too late to post this :-( Some N&Ners stayed in the room until the Die-Hards had to shoo them out at sunrise, but some returned to browse the rest of the Museum's wonders. As the largest group of them, led by Laura headed for the food (or is that FoD) area, they passed a large sign over the exit reading: "FOREVER KNIGHT: NEVER FORGET" "Hmm," said Laura, "not as catchy as 'In Love and Faith There is Forever'. but it'll do." ********************************************************************* Doomed To Die by: Abby Albrecht Time: 8/10 at 9:47:52 pm at the N&NPackers Place *******This was supposed to go out yesterday, but after spending half the day moving to school (400 miles away from home) the blasted power went out... Seven states, right? Anyway, I'm 482 messages behind. If this screws up anything I'll jimmy with it later.************** *Duh duh daduh, duh duh daduhhh,* the Mission Impossible (tm) theme song kept playing over and over in Abby's head. Over, and over, and over, and over... "Ow!" Abby hit her head against the nearest wall, but that didn't help... It didn't feel very good either. The Nick and Nat Packer Head Quarters wasn't what Abby expected. For some reason she expected the walls to be papered with pictures of the star crossed lovers. Fortunatly, they didn't seem to be that obsessed. *The Relationshippers could learn a lot here,* she thought as she entered the basement. *Here 'puter 'puter 'puter... Here 'puter... Ahh, here you guys are!* Abby hadn't been paying much attention to where she was going, so ending up where she meant to be was a happy suprise. She had learned from the best detective around that by dressing up as a fictional character and acting in a way that was totally uncharacteristic fro that person, no one would notice her. Sadly, it took all of her concentration to pull it off, and the girdle didn't help much either. Abby sat down at the first computer. Now it was time to put to use all of the things her dad taught her. She slipped a disk in, loaded the program to the hard drive, and then started the fun part. Moments later the Forever Knight Doom game was wiped from the memory and the new program was put in its place. Abby knew enough to rename the new program, so the stupid, clumsy, bug ridden, BG's nondry dream, evil, non Mac computer couldn't figure out that it wasn't the old Doom game... (Which was actually a rip off of a pretty cool game called Wolfenstein (tm)). That done, Abby patted the pathetic 'puter and went on to do the same thing to every other computer that had the FK game on it. Passwords amused Abby to no end, so this was a fun job. It was almost time for Abby to go. She had to try the new game once. So, loosening her girdle and hoisting her hoop skirt, Abby booted up the game. Moments later that sickly sweet laugh played and a purple dinosaur came on the screen. *So far, so good,* she though. She played a simple mathe game to try the second part of the program. It was there. Abby had "fixed" the game. Now, whenever someone won, a video clip of Forever Knight played. Each clip was chosen by her employers to utterly annoy the N&Ners. This one was a slowmo of Nick and Janette kissing. Her job was done. ********************************************************************* Getting Ready for the Grand Opening By Laura Ruggiero (Die-Hard) When: Saturday, August 10, shortly before sunset. Where: Die-Hard HQ [Note: I send this out to the Die-Hard loop last night, and haven't heard back from a single one of them, I be the only Die-Hard online today.] The Die-Hards were still recovering from the party at the Raven last night, but sleep was less important than getting all the last minute details taken care of for the Grand Opening of the Forever Knight Museum. The Die-Hards were now all dressed in their best outfits. They left the building that contained their HQ, and headed over to the museum. There were small tables and chairs set up outside the museum . Several tables of incredibly good smelling food (provided by the Happy Souvlaki Deli, with Pam Rush overseeing it all) and a full bar were also nearby. The weather was perfect, no clouds in the sky, and the stars beginning to come out. The high that day had been in the low 70's F (low 20's C), it was supposed to be in the 50's (teen's C) tonight. Some people might think that it was a bit cold, but Laura (having grown up in Minnesota) thought it felt wonderful, Southern Illinois wouldn't be this pleasant unitl October. Laura checked in with all the temporary and permanent staff. Everyone was in place and looked great. The guards had orders to be unobtrusive, but to make sure nothing walked away (The detailed descriptions of all invitees with known lock picking and breaking and entering skills didn't hurt.) Wait, something wasn't right about that one sign by the entrance to the Museum. It was supposed to simply read: "No Eating, No Drinking, and No Smoking in the Museum." But someone had attached an addendum to the sign which read: "However, Drooling over, Lusting about, and Coveting objects contained herein is o-kay." Laura laughed, *Well I just that's correct, it might as well remain there.* *Yes, everything was ready,* Laura thought, *now we just have to wait for the others to arrive. I hope they do come, I wouldn't want the Grand Opening to be a flop.* ********************************************************************* Late Nights and Daily Rushes by Diane Echelbarger, unaffiliated Laura Ruggiero, DieHard, and Carla Pickering, Vaquera Saturday, 8/10, 11:30pm Diane fought back another yawn and slid open the next drawer in the video storage room. She was a morning person, and even with an early- evening nap under her belt, the late hour was beginning to catch up to her. Usually, she'd just have downed a double espresso and kept going, but caffeine was on Dr. Wetmore's list of forbidden substances. "Hey," she cried, brightening a bit, "These are dailies! First season dailies!" Eagerly, she sorted through them and pulled one out. "Cool! _I Will Repay_, Raven-back-room-scene *dailies*!" She turned to Carla, who was still acting as chair-pusher. "Let's watch 'em! I always wondered how many takes it took to get that scene between Schanke and Alma right." Carla agreed, and they were fortunate enough to find a viewing room free fairly quickly. Diane's wheelchair was rolled to the back of the small theatre-style room, and the Vaquera handed the tape to Donna Burns, the DieHard projectionist on duty. Soon, Diane, Carla, and various other people who had wandered in were laughing uproariously at take after take of the "dancing doctor" scene. When the tape ended, two hours later, Carla rose from her comfortable auditorium-style seat and prepared to continue pusher-duty. Before she could call the unaffiliate's name, the lights went up, and Carla smiled. Diane was slumped in the wheelchair, fast asleep. Gently, so as not to wake her, Carla pushed her into a quiet corner, borrowed one of the Vaqueros' vans, drove to Spifff's apartment, and tucked Diane into bed. ********************************************************************* Gifts From The Heart by Laura MacMillan and the N&NPack Saturday August 10 11:30pm The Museum Laura wondered around the musuem looking to see if Nick and Natalie had arrived yet. As she walked past a hallway she was too busy trying to see down the length of it to pay attention to where she was walking. She walked right into Denise, her Cousin friend, "Hey, watch it! ...Oh, Laura. Hi." Laura looked at Denise and grinned, "Hi. Sorry about that." Denise smiled, "Don't worry about it. Are you looking for someone?" Laura's smile faded, "Yes. I'm looking for Nick and Natalie. You haven't seen either of them have you?". Denise's smile widened, "Actually I have." Denise told Laura exactly where she had seen both Nick and Natalie. Just as she was finishing up Mel appeared by her side. Before Laura could respond Mel did, "Okay Laura, you go get Nick and I'll get Nat. We'll meet back where the food is setup in ten minutes. Denise could you do us a favour and let Chana or Idalia know where to meet us?" Denise nodded and headed in the direction Mel indictated. Within minutes Laura spotted Nick and managed to talk the group of Knighties with him to let him accompany her for a few minutes. Within five minutes Nick and Laura were sitting at a table waiting for Mel, Natalie and the rest of the N&NPack. Laura could see how nervous Nick had become when she told him Nat would be joining them shortly. The N&NPack suurounded Nick and Laura, eagerly awaiting Natalie's arrival. They had spent the whole war waiting for this moment. As Mel approached with Natalie, Nick visabely tensed up. Laura reached over, squeezed his hand and said, "Relax. This is a good thing. Nick, please don't led anything we say get to you. We just need to know where we stand" Nick looked at her and smiled,"I won't. Thanks." Natalie had no choice but to sit beside Nick as Mel sat on her other side forcing her closer to Nick in the circular booth. Mel and Laura smiled at each other knowing that they had effectively locked Nick and Nat in place. Laura started, "We are so glad that both of you are alive and well." "You had us really worried," Chana quickly added. Nick started to stammer an apology, but was cut off by Mel, "We aren't here to talk about that, we have more important things on our minds." She looked at Lisa who handed them each a N&NPack t-shirt. Before they could respond Idalia handed them each a N&NPack leather jacket complete with their names embroidered on the left arm. As they stared at the generous gifts Carrie took that moment to remind them, "In Love and Faith There is *Forever*". Susan handed them each, a leather bound book filled with the best Nick and Nat fiction. Jenn and Pat presented them a tape a of all Nick and Nat scenes. Tia handed them a 8x10 photo of them kissing. Mel turned a bright red as she handed them a collection of N&N SWSes, CSSes and JADFE stories, one of which she was guilty of writing. As Nat and Nick both took a moment to look over the pages, they became visably embarassed. Kevin leaned over and whispered to Nick, "It will help you out with your foreplay." Before Nick could express his objections Laura spoke up, "All of us here know you love each other and that you belong together." "Everyone relationship goes through a hard time, but you must not give up," added Chana. "Together you can get through anything," chimed in Heather. "Plus Nat, if Nick doesn't behave there is always Vachon," said Mel. "Hey!" objected Nick. "Actually Vachon is rather sexy. The truth thing really adds to his appeal," replied Tina. "Hmm....Vachon," replied Natalie thoughtfully. "Nat!" exclaimed Nick. "You know Nat there is a faction called the Lonely Hearts that thinks you and Vachon would be good together," added Scott. "You guys are supposed to be N&NPackers!" responded an irritated Nick. "I'm sorry, I can't think of being with any one at this time," said Natalie. "Then there's still hope for the two of you, that's all we can ask for, " replied Laura happily. With that, the N&NPack said their goodbyes to Nick and Nat and left them alone at the booth. ********************************************************************* Key? What key? Time: Sat. August 10, 11:40 Place: The Die-Hard Museum Author: Dawn Steele Dawn Steele wandered aimlessly throughout the museum. //Great idea!// She squinted her eyes to examine the portait of Janette supposedly painted by de Vinci. //Nope! No way.// The Mercenary was free and clear. The War was pretty much over, and she hadn't had an (official) job since about mid-week. She'd kept herself busy, but it wasn't the same thing. //I'm going to get more people to hire me next time.// She spotted a plaque on the wall. It was the "Partners of the Month" plaque with Schanke's name mis-spelled. Dawn took a brief detour to the reception area and had another glass of wine while she was there. (Hey Laura! Nice vintage!), Then she continued wandering. She loved museums -- one could see and meet the most interesting people there. She found Lynn Stapleton arguing heatedly with a security guard. Something about a missing dagger, and Lynn tripping the thief before he could get there. "Look," she argued. "I stopped that damn punk before he could leave with a priceless dagger, and you're giving me nothing but grief." "How do I know you weren't in on the theft?" The guard was also standing his ground. Lynn laughed in his face. "Oh, puleeze. Do you really think I'd be standing here trying to turn the SOB in, if I was in on it." She gave him an incredulous look. He couldn't possibly be this dense. It sounded a bit irrational to Dawn. Why wouldn't the guard just thank her. He must have been looking forward to trouble and was ticked off that Lynn had found it first. "Lynn!" The NatPacker turned towards Dawn. "Dawn." She sighed heavily. *Damned guard* She smiled as she got closer to her friend. "How's it going?" "I'm glad I caught up with you -- I was going to try and track you down tomorrow, but this is better. Do you need a ride home to New Brunswick? I'll be leaving about noon." "Sure." They left the irrational guard behind, and started towards the video room. After a hilarious couple of hours watching clips, they decided to look over the rest of the exhibit -- although both were a bit punch drunk due to being up in the middle of the night. 'And various things have/had/happened - ' was the title on a mystery display that neither of them could figure out. There seemed to be a display of all the identification used on the show mixed up with a few pieces of lingeree from various shows. Dawn tried viewing the display from different head positions, but it still didn't make any sense. She was thoughtfully tapping on the clear glass display case when the new leaders of the Die-Hards arrived. "Dawn -- it's nice to see you again." The Merc startled guiltily. After being the leader of the Die-Hards in Wars 2, 3, 4 and then co-leader in number 5 she had thought there was enough active writers to keep them afloat in the War. "Laura... Hi! Nice museum." Laura buffed her nails and smiled. "It was hard to finish it up and do my thesis at the same time, but I managed." Introductions were made, and Dawn gave Laura the key card to the Die Hard safe house that the Nick&NatPackers had snatched and she had retrieved. "Hey!" Laura exclaimed. "I didn't know it was even missing!" "I was scouting out the N&NPackers place for future reference, and noticed it less lying on a side table -- very careless." Dawn replied. A heated discussion about different security systems to be used in the next war proceeded. Everyone agreed that it was no fun if could get in (Like in Nick's loft), but having an impenerable fortress wasn't much fun either. Like most things in life, the discussion ended and they parted ways until the next war. Dawn and Lynn started towards the entrance. "Need a lift to the NatPacker's place?" "Yeah. I've got to pick up my luggage. And _try_ to get the Hostel back into some semblance of normalacy." She smiled. The Hostel after the NatPack was never going to be the same again. "Need a lift back to New Brunswick?" "Sure." "Got any more of those chocolates you paid me for the trip up?" Lynn just looked resignedly at Dawn. "How about I just pay for the gas?" --------------------- My last post. A couple more are awaiting approval but they're already written. ********************************************************************* Au Revoir, Kemosabe By: Apache Place: the Raven Time: late Saturday, August 10 Apache sat in a corner, nursing an Irish whiskey... 'wasn't I in this exact same sot, er, spot, a week ago?' she wondered. But the Raven had been quiet then, and it was one jumpin' joint right now. So much happens in two weeks, especially if you're used to hiding out on 67 extremely quiet acres where the advent of two migrating Canada geese is a major event. Weird to dance and bump into people you hadn't known at all fourteen days ago. And then there were the ones she *had* known... it was good to see Diane E. out and about. Apache fingered the bottle of nail polish, exactly the shade of NATPE bag red, that she'd meant to polish Diane's toes with. 'Kinda hard with a hyperbaric chamber in the way, though. Well, I can give her the bottle to take home, anyhow.' And then, of course, there were the ones you only *thought* you'd known. 'Bonnie, it was Bonnie all along?' Apache's brain was still reeling from the revelation, not to mention from the Fiorinal and Cafergot she'd been taking to keep her migraine down to a dull roar -- and the Jameson's she was now pouring on top of that. 'I mean, *Bonnie*?' Of all the Vaqueras, Bonnie had been the one she thought she knew best coming in. 'Jeez, that nice woman? The one who kept her gaze glued on Vachon every available second and thought he had eyes like a German Shepherd?' Apache herself was a relic of the Sixties, in which every hair, whether its ends were split or not, was sacred, not to mention heir to a culture where three-foot-braids like the ones she'd had in those days were common. To her, even the concept of 'just a trim' was heretical enough. And of course, what had actually happened.... 'Et tu, Bonnie?' Apache thought. 'Talk about your 'most unkindest cut of all"'... Jeez.' Apache closed her eyes over the memory of those fragrant, bouncy curls. 'Ugh.' Uh, so to speak. And now Bonnie was dancing with... yes, the Phantom. 'Mr. Silly String himself, though he may not know we know,' Apache pondered. Unmasked, but still, there she was with her head on his shoulder. Apache took another slug of her whiskey. 'Original Gangsta, or Ovulating Gnu, or Obstreporous Geek, or whatever he wants to call himself, he obviously doesn't know how long the statute of limitations is on hate crimes up here,' she mulled. 'Between the film Charlyne pulled from the surveillance cams, and the fingerprints on the sewer grating and the undestroyed timers we bagged and stored, this drawling ectoplasm-wannabe is toast and doesn't even know it. And it was the Spanish, after all, who coined the phrase "Revenge is a dish best eaten cold."' Sherri walked up and poked her. "Hey, it's a party. Lighten up," she ordered. "I don't do light," Apache sighed. "At least, not very well." "Get up and dance, deadbeat," said Sherri. "'S an order. You can be depressed later, like when the Gold Card bill comes." She grinned. "Oh my Gawd," moaned Apache. But then she laughed. "Okay, I hear and obey. As long as it's not the Maca-whatsit...." A cool hand touched her. "You'd prefer maybe a rain dance?" came a teasing voice. ********************************************************************* Frustrations and Delivery Boys by TJ Goldstein (Unaffiliated) and Sorcha O'Faolin (N&NPack) Time: During the Museum Opening Place: The FK Museum TJ was tired as he showed the guard his invitation to the museum opening and admitted to himself that he was glad to be here. Why shouldn't he be tired? It wasn't like he'd gotten more than a couple of hours sleep in the past few days. Not that that had prevented him from being volunteered for this. "Come on, TJ," Sorcha had said, "the Merc cancelled. Can't you do it? You're always talking about staying unaffiliated. You don't get much more unaffiliated than this." So here he was, late for the opening, with a huge sack full of cargo to be delivered. The moment he entered the first room, his reluctance melted away. It appeared to be dedicated to Nick, with all sorts of props scattered around. He looked around and saw the Bible with Nick's handprint scorched into it, several jackets with bullet holes in them, swords hanging on the wall, Erica's doll, a 1964 drivers license. Finally he found what he was looking for, realizing that it was right in front of him all the time. The loft. Well, the set anyway. He approached the refrigerator, and spun around and did something he'd longed to do for a very long time. He sat at the piano. And wished he hadn't said no when his mother'd tried to get him to take lessons. Ah well. Work to do, he reminded himself. He checked his notes and found the woman who fit the description. "Cath Boone?" She turned to him. "Yes?" He pulled the bundle out of his sack and handed it to her. "From the Nick and Natpackers." She looked at him, then the package, as though trying to figure out if it might detonate when she opened it. "It's t-shirts," he said, finally realizing her probable suspicions. She opened it carefully nonetheless, and finally 50 burgundy t-shirts with the N&Ner symbol -- a cadecus and sword -- emblazoned on the chest appeared. "Thank you," she said quietly, and he got the feeling there were more than just words in that statement. As he left the room he caught sight of the sun painting that had seemed to him to be perpetually unfinished, right up until Nick had collapsed onto it after Divia's attack. Underneath there was a small notation: "Study in Frustration (Nick)". He entered the Natalie room and found the morgue set, complete with white lab coat. Sure enough, that damn organ scale was still broken. There were plenty of other props around, such as a large number of flowers and the card from MBiaV. He wondered how close the Lurkers had been to the truth in what it said and resigned himself to never finding out. Then there was the silver pillbox she had given to Nick. Underneath was an almost identical caption: "Study in Frustration (Natalie)". He found Jennie and handed her her package. "From the Nick and Natpack." She opened the package and smiled, surprised. "Thanks," she said, clearly wondering who the heck this guy was. Feeling uncomfortable he made his way quickly to the next room, and immediately stepped over to the CERK set, wondering what would happen if he just moved a slider or two. (Then he remembered what happened when he pushed those buttons on the replica TARDIS in that exhibit he was working and decided against it.) The LaCroix room. In the background he could hear Nightcrawler routines running, and he stopped for a moment to listen before finding Cousin Tok. "This is for you." Tok opened it and thanked him. "You're a Nick and Natpacker? I don't think I've seen you before." "Me? No, I just got pressed into service," he said, catching LaCroix's "Study in Frustration" -- the pocketwatch he had given Nick, the replica of the bust, and Divia's brooch -- as he moved on past a single dried rose to Schanke's room. He missed Schanke. He missed the humor. He almost wished he would run into Schanke's ghost, even though he hated that kind of thing. But he didn't, so he delivered the shirts for the FoD's and moved on after spotting the moose pajamas and the Partner of the Month plaque next to the "Study in Frustration" -- a non-winning lottery ticket. The centerpiece of the Janette room was, of course, the replica of the Raven, as it appeared before LaCroix's redecorations. There were also a couple of coffins from the basement, and an impressive collection of gloves, the most striking of which were a pair of blood red velvet opera gloves and a pair of black lace with open fingers. Her "Study in Frustration" was the pair of jeans and sweater she would probably swear she had never worn. He found Felicia and gave her her package for the Immortal Beloveds and the Ravenettes. She thanked him and he moved on to Tracy's room. He felt a little sorry for Tracy. She'd been wasted, in his opinion, but she didn't deserve what happened to her. Looking around for Partly K he saw her "Study in Frustration" -- Vachon's guitar -- and her desk, adorned with an extra large cup of coffee. He found Partly and gave her the gift. In grand Perkulator style she smiled in surprise and thanked him, and he moved on. Next was Vachon's room and the Church set. He dropped off the shirts for the Vaqueros and smiled as he saw Vachon's frustration: A plane ticket made out to J.D. Valdez. He also caught sight of a group of the Woofpack and checking his notes, he saw that they were indeed Tigon, Becky, and Steve. He gave them their shirts and they thanked him. Christina and Dianne of the Mercs were in the Captains' room, laughing at Reese's frustration. They thanked him for the shirts and almost immediately he found Laura. She seemed to be the most pleased with the gift, smiling and telling him, "Thanks! I do like the idea of Nick and Nat -- 'course I also like the idea of Nick and Janette. What can I say, I'm a Die Hard!" He laughed. "Well, I've got to say that you guys have done a terrific job of putting this thing together." "Thank you. I'm glad that so far it's working out." He looked around for the other "frustration" pieces before he left the room, finally finding them. Cohen's was an unfinished report from Schanke, Stonetree's a pair of woefully stretched suspenders. Finally, as he closed the sack and stuffed it into his backpack, he chuckled at "Study in Frustration (Reese)". The water cooler. ********************************************************************* Morning People By Diane Echelbarger, unaffiliated and Valerie Meachum, NatPack Sunday, 8/11, 7:23am The CN Tower's Top Of The World restaurant (No, I don't think they really serve Sunday brunch.) Diane sipped from her cup of decaf, took a bite of warm, fresh-baked croissant, and smiled. "Isn't Toronto gorgeous early in the morning?" she asked her brunch companion, waving her free hand at the spectacular view. "I've never understood why anyone would want to sleep 'til noon. They miss the best part of the day!" Valerie took a bite of her portobella mushroom and swiss cheese omelette. "I can think of a few reasons, but I never manage it," she replied. They continue to eat and chat, making occasional sojourns to the 43- item buffet to refill their plates. After the third such trip-- Valerie leaned on Diane's shoulder, so she wouldn't have to use her crutches-- the unaffiliated listmember asked her friend, "So-- I hear Nick and Nat met at The Raven Friday night. How'd it go?" "Better than I expected," Valerie answered, as she spooned up some fresh raspberries. "I'm not sure where they're going from here, but at least they're talking to each other. And the 'Pack and the Knighties have pretty much made up, too." "That's good." Diane cut a bite of sugar-cured ham. "I'm glad Nat's okay, too. I was kinda worried, when Jennie and Karen both transferred to Toronto right after--" She trailed off, and Valerie nodded. "We were worried about her safety," the NatPacker explained. "But all's well that ends well, and all that." She brightened. "Speaking of theatre..." Valerie picked up her (Bag? backpack?) and pulled a video tape out. "I thought you'd like a copy of this." Diane took the unlabeled tape and turned it over in her hands. "What is it?" "A copy of the karaoke session at The Raven Friday. It's got me singing "Think of Me" on it. I know you like _Phantom_." "Thanks!" Diane tucked the tape into her bag, then glanced at her watch. "You're flying out today?" Valerie nodded. "My flight leaves Toronto International at 3pm. How are you getting home?" "I have to drive back, but since I've got massive sick leave coming-- one advantage of working for the state-- I'm going to take an extra day to rest up, then drive home in easy stages. Ann Arbor Tuesday, then home Wednesday." Diane finished the last bite off her plate. "Shall we 'frappe la rue', as Spifff would say?" "Let's." Valerie rose to her feet, and her friend helped her hobble to the elevator (they had payed when they arrived). They parted at the curb, each taking a cab to their separate destinations and shouting good-byes out the windows. "Bye!" "Take care!" ********************************************************************* Contemplations of the Next WAR Author: Cherri L. Munoz aka Cousin Cherri Date: Sunday, August 11 Time: Late Morning Place: CERK HQ --------------- Cousin Cherri packed her belongings into several suitcases. It was incredible how many things that a person could accumulate in 9 months. Suddenly she stopped and looked around. This had been her home. It was a little sad. So many things had happened to her in the last two weeks but best of all was when LaCroix had removed the cow suit and later when he had come to her rescue at Vachon's church. "Cousin Cherri," she spoke aloud to hear the wonderful ring it had to it. She smiled then frowned as she remembered all the unfinished business she was leaving behind. She would have to deal with Vachon in the next war for whamming her into thinking that she was a Vaquera. "I'm a Cousin," she told the empty room. Another major problem she was going to have to deal with in the next war was Tigon. //So what. I stole Tigon's sock ammo at my Last Knight party. It was the Cousinly thing to do. // However, to hire a merc...Merc Kira to be exact...another person to deal with... to steal the socks from all the factions was something to be avenged. She had heard that Tigon and one of her minions, Steve, had given VampFleas to a few of the factions when they returned the socks. She was sure that she'd have lots of cooperation especially from the afflicted factions. And of course, I will never forget Tigon's accomplice...Merc Lizbet and all her personas... Oh yes... the next war was going to be very good. Cousin Cherri stuffed one last thing into her bag, closed it then paused for a moment to contemplate the war as it played this time round. Putting Vachon in the cow costume had been very good...very good indeed but for him to whammy her into becoming a Vaquera so that she went around saying, "I love you, Vachon." she would have to think of something very Cousinly to do to his faction during the next war. "Oh, well." She stretched. "I have plenty of time to decide." She smiled. It felt wonderful to no longer be wearing the cow costume and it was absolutely fabulous that she no longer had to be the "Spot the Cow" Mascot for CERK. Time for the Cousin meeting then she would get to go home to her family. ********************************************************************* Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again by Cousin Erik LeBeau Time: Comfortably after Lisa McD's closing post Place: In transit from Toronto to Birmingham He stared out the window at the sunlight over the clouds. Cousin Roger -- Erik having been put away with the mask and makeup until next war --fought back a mist in his eyes as his thoughts ran over the events of the war. It was really fun, although he never seemed to have gotten around to all the things he had planned. 'That's what War 8 is for,' he thought to himself with a wicked grin. He thought briefly of his ill-fated infatuation with Bonnie, the former Vaquera. Roger sang a line from _Tommy_ to himself, slightly amending the lyrics. "He knew from the start / deep down in his heart / that he and Bonnie were worlds apart." Considering all that happened to her in the course of the war, he hoped that she would think fondly of him, and perhaps they would meet again. 'We may even wind up on the same side next time,' he thought to himself. He knew that the Vaqueras would be itching to get him back for the silly string as soon as they met again... and he was already thinking of preemptive strikes. The best defense and all that. He smiled to himself. Contrary to Mr. Franklin, while there may be no such thing as a bad peace, there was most certainly a good war... and Cousin Roger had just been a part of one of the best. ***end*** Thanks everyone!!! I had loads of fun. See y'all (yes, I'm from Alabama) next war! ********************************************************************* Booking Procedures and Loft-y Ideals by Perri Smith and Catherine Boone Aug 11, 12 p.m. Nick's Loft They'd finally woken from their late night at the museum opening, finally gotten clothing, sleeping bags, stuffed animals and all bathroom items shoved and mauled into the suitcases they came from. They were smiling for the most part, satisfied that all suitable revenge had been taken on all suitable parties, and that all was more or less right with the world. Except for one thing. They *still* hadn't found the damn book. Nick sat at the kitchen table, sorting through piles of brown leather books. They'd accumulated them all over the place, from the one from Jessica had given them to the Sanskrit one from Partly. Nick was paging through them with various sounds of disgust or pleasure, as those Knighties not frantically packing looked on with awe. "Nick, what *are* all of those?" Dotti finally asked. "These," Nick gestured to a small pile, "I have no idea. These," to a slightly larger pile, "are just plain old address books. Two of them are mine, from the station and one that I lost right after I left Toronto. Janette had it?" he asked Perri. She nodded. "Snitched it from her office before we left the Raven yesterday morning. And that stack?" she gestured to the last one. Nick looked embarrassed. "Those are, ah, the bank books I lost before." Cath leaned forward, one eyebrow going up. "Before?" "Ah, yes." Perri was also leaning forward now; both of them were starting to look violent. "See," he said hastily, "I never can keep track of small things like this. So, every few months, I usually manage to lose one of my account books." "Every few months?" Allie was starting to catch on. "Yeah. I can usually reconstruct them from my records, although I usually do miss one or two accounts." Cath leaned back against the table, from where she was sitting at Perri's feet on the floor. "So, all this time, we've been racing around Toronto trying to find the one and only book, thinking it was a complete emergency, whan you make a *habit* of losing these things?" "But this time, I didn't have any of my records," Nick defended himself. "So I had to just use the accounts I remembered, which weren't very many. So, I really did need it back. Really." Perri had started snickering by this point, too tired to be pissed off. "Well, at least you had enough to bring us to Toronto. Instead of coming yourself. But if you'd told us, we wouldn't have hauled everyone up here." "Yes, well, that's the funny part." He had the grace to look ashamed, but tried to laugh. "I, ah, figured everyone would show up. I needed to find Natalie and I couldn't think of any other way to get her out in the open than starting a war. And it worked." They gaped. "You started a war on purpose?" Dottie finally managed to stutter out. Nick looked away. "Yes." Cath groaned and fell on the floor, stretched out flat, her eyes closed. "Now, I really *have* seen everything." Her eyes popped back open after just a second, registering what they'd just seen. "Oh, dude!" Katrinka looked down at her from the kitchen counter. "What is it?" Catherine just blinked. "There's something under the refrigerator." For a moment, everyone froze. Then, there was a mass rush to the fridge. They jostled for position, and finally managed to pull it out from the wall, after discovering that no one had small enough hands to reach under. Allie won the final pounce. "One brown book, initials NK!" she yelled. "Dumpster duty, my foot! I told you to look there!" "Mea culpa," Perri complained. "Is that it?" Nick took it from Allie, paging through it. "Yes, this is it!" Their shout of triumph rattled the skylight. A few minutes later, as the rounds of congratulations and Nick's hugs of gratitude ended, he shouted them all to silence again. "Thanks, all of you, for everything," he started. "I can't tell you how much all of you have meant to me all of these years." "Uh-oh, farewell speech," someone muttered. "I hope not," Nick said seriously. "Although I would like, just once, to see all of you when no one is breaking into the loft every other hour." They laughed appreciatively, a few jibes aimed Kathy's way. She blushed, but returned them in kind, secure in Nick's forgiveness. "But, I do want to pay all of you back, the best I can," Nick continued. "You don't need to do anything for us," Sandra protested. "We've been sponging off you enough already." "Yes, I do," Nick answered firmly. "I don't know where I'm going after all of you leave this time, but I do know I can't stay here in the loft. There's... too many memories." They murmured in sympathy, looking over to The Spot on the floor -- no one had slept there the entire time they'd been in the loft. "So," Nick continued, "I've decided to give the loft to someone I'm sure will get a lot of use out of it. The lease had been tranferred to... The Knightie Foundation, to be administered by the Knightie leaders." He grinned as it started to sink in. "There's also enough capital in there so none of you will need to use my credit card to get here anymore, should another of these situations arise. Felix Twist will run the financial side, all any of you need to do is use it." They gaped again. "Du-ude," Perri and Cath finally said in unison, managing to close their mouths. "Too cool!" Nick braced himself, and managed not to fall out of his chair when the crusade of grateful, squealing Knighties decended on him. ********************************************************************* Rage! Rage! Against the dying of the War! by Raymond E. Heuer (Nat Vamp Camp) Monday, August 12, 1996, noonish Toronto Airport Having helped tote luggage, Ray had one last bag to carry - his own! "C'mon, Ray," said Susan, "I know you only played pack-mule so you could hug each of us goodbye as we left. Now it's my turn." "I thought it would be just a couple of weeks with friends, and then back home to my wife and son. I didn't think it would be this hard to leave." "You just didn't realize how real a virtual family can be. Now off with you, before you miss your plane." "You don't suppose ..." "Go! Before I tell your wife about you and Idalia!" "But ... but ... but ..." "Go on, go!" So long, Toronto - So long N&N Pack. I'll be back for War Viii! ********************************************************************* Bye, all! Sunday August 10, 1996 Tina Cooling (Bast) N&NPackers Tina tossed the last of her clothing into her backpack, and hunted down her cat. "Well, Bogart," she said, picking him up. "I'll bet Susan will be glad to get her house back to normal." With that, she went outside, where the Nick&NatPackers were busily engaged in hugging each other goobye. Tina joined in the hugpile after putting Bogart and her bag and suitcase into Jinx. "I'll miss you guys!" she exclaimed. She had already called up the NatPack and told her friends there goodbye. "I'm going to be thinking about this when I'm in school dozing through boring classes on research methods, and wishing I were back in Toronto!" "You'll show up for the next war?" asked Mel. "Heck, yeah!" exclaimed Tina. "I wouldn't miss it for *anything*!" With that, she gave Mel a big hug, got one in return, and joined in the hugging before getting in her car. As she drove off, Tina thought of all the fun she'd had in the war, and all the smelly liquids she'd been doused in, and began planning for the next war. "Now I have something to do during my boring classes!" she exclaimed. **fin** It's been a blast, all! I can't wait until War VIII!!! *hugs to all* ********************************************************************* Farewell My Friends by Laura MacMillan and the N&NPack Sunday,10/96 1:00pm N&NPack Headquarters Laura, Mel, Chana and Susan watched as the N&NPackers finished putting all their luggage and pets into the vans and cars. Everyone seemed to be relieved yet sad that they were leaving Toronto. The war had been long and trying at times, but they had survived rather well. They knew each other as well as thirty two people crowded into a house for two weeks can. They had gone through many trial and tribulations and many first times together. Laura giggled as she thought of them trying to tell their loved ones about their time in Toronto. How do you explain to someone that you bought out six stores when you *had* to bath in tomato juice, because of the cotton candy and the Screed smell the you managed to get covered in. How would four of them explain their new hair colors, thanks to the Ravenettes and IB attack. Nobody accept maybe the Toronto police who had several strange reports would believe what had occurred in Toronto. Soon everything was loaded and it was time to say good bye. There were tears, laughter and lots of hugs as the N&NPack said their goodbyes. Mel and Chana both knew they should be heading home, but Laura had talked them into staying with her for a few more days. She and Susan had promised to show them everything Torono and the surrounding area had. They planned a trip to Niagra Falls and the a few days at the Toronto Exhibition. As they stood and watched their friends drive away a profound sadness washed over them. It would take awhile to get used to not having them around. Once the vans were out of site, they slowly headed back into the silent house. Within minutes they had each found a comfortable place to sleep and were fast asleep shortly afterwards, dreaming of Nick and Nat in the Knight. ********************************************************************* Vaquero Summer Fun - Finis 1/2 Location: Toronto and points West Time: August 11th, late afternoon by Sherri L. Campbell The Vaqueros were packing their belongings rapidly. The church was gradually emptying of signs of their stay. The computers and security had been crated, and a delivery truck was due to pick them up in the next hour. The geese had been transferred to a wild-life sanctuary for rehabilitation to the wild, and Apache was due for a large tax deduction on her next tax return. The fencing had been returned in such good shape that the company was rebating part of the cost. Items that had been purchased were being packed and stored in the church, on the off chance that they would be needed for the next war. Vachon stood surveying the chaos. As he saw box after box being taken to back rooms and the basement for storage, he snagged a passing Vaquera who squeaked in surprise. "Now, now, cara... you are Terry, correct?" At her mute nod, he smiled and continued. "Now, Terry? *Why* are you all putting those boxes in the basement?" Terry looked at Vachon in bewilderment. "Well, Vachon... We may have to come back! This is in preparation for the *next* war." Vachon staggered back, and sat on a nearby pew. "Next War?" He barely whispered the awful words. "*Next* War??" He groaned, and buried his face in his hands. "What next??" Torrey trotted past on an errand, and patted Vachon on his shoulder. "It's all right, Vachon. It won't happen for a while.... You'll be fully recuperated by then." With a bright smile, she moved off. The faint moan of protest was ignored. * * * * Apache stood surveying the empty church. "I think that's it, Torrey. As far as I can tell, everything is picked up, packed or returned." Turning to the assembled Vaqueros, she smiled quietly. "Well, shall we go home?" There was a ground swell of mumbled denial. Lori stepped forward, and, firmly looking the assembly in the eye, started to speak. "I, for one, had a great time up here. Even though I stayed in the background, and didn't appear much, I enjoyed myself. I *don't* want this to end yet. Isn't there something we can do?" Crystal and Cindy started to speak at the same time, with Jay overriding them. "Yes, there's got to be something we can do! Torrey, you're our leader... *think* of something!" Torrey, looking up at the adamant Vachon look-alike, stammered quietly. "Uh-huh... just what...???" McKenna tugged on her sleeve, and whispered quietly. Torrey looked up smiling. "So, do you guys agree to whatever I come up with?" The assembled Vaqueros shuffled their feet, and looked at each other. Gay stepped foward and boldly stated "Yes. Anything." Everyone else nodded in agreement. "Okay... here is what we are going to do.... ********************************************************************* Well, It's Time to Go by Perri Smith and Catherine Boone Aug 11, 6:00 p.m. The Knighties' Loft "So, where *are* you going to go?" Perri asked. She and Cath were sprawled over Nick's bed -- he was leaving the satin sheets after a pointed hint from a few departing Knighties -- watching him pack the last of his clothes. Perri lusted quietly after a few of the full-sleeved, lace-up shirts, but managed to keep it inaudible. "You know, I don't really know," Nick answered, shoving more shirts into his suitcase. Then he stopped, pulled one out, and tossed it at Perri. She caught it, grinning hugely. "I haven't had time to think about it much. I guess I could go almost anywhere." "Except Chicago," Cath pointed out. "You keep getting into trouble in Chicago." "Hey!" Perri objected. "Come to Chicago. When I move there, I can stay with you." Nick laughed. "I don't think I'll be leaving Toronto for now. I worked hard enough to come back!" He shook his head slightly, chuckling. "Where are you two off to?" "Back to California." Perri rolled over onto her back, hugging the shirt. "My ticket home to Texas is in a few days - may as well be there to use it. Besides, I still have vacation days left." "And you, Catherine?" "School," she said, making a face. "After I kick Perri out." That got her hit with a pillow. She dodged and retaliated. "Hey!" Nick interrupted before a full-fledged pillow fight could break out. The girls exchanged looks, then laughed a pillow directly at him. Even vampiric speed couldn't save him. He sighed heavily, dropped his pile of clothes, picked up the pillow - - and retaliated in kind. Squeals filled the loft. ****** After the feathers (literally) settled, the women helped Nick load the caddie with his baggage, then turned out the lights in the loft. No one would turn the electricity off this time -- the refrigerator was fully stocked with food, in case of wandering Knighties needing a crash pad, and there was even a small supply of blood in the mini-bar fridge. Nick slammed the trunk of the Caddie and turned to the two Knighties. "Guess this is it." "For now, anyway," Perri grinned. "You'll be around, and so will we." "You sure you don't need a ride to the airport?" "Positive," Cath answered patiently. "We're going to stop and get ice cream, then head for the airport. We'll be fine." "Well, then..." His voice trailed off, and he held out his arms. They took the invitation with enthusiasm, not pulling away until after a long, tearful moment. "Take care, you two." "We will," Perri answered, scrubbing her cheeks and smiling. "You do the same. No close encounters with stakes..." "No necking sessions..." "No psychotic half-sisters showing up in town..." "All right!" he laughed, holding up his hands. "I get the picture. I promise to behave myself." "Good," Cath said with satisfaction. "And Nick, no matter what happens...." She couldn't finish past the lump in her throat. Perri half-smiled in sympathy, and finished Cath's sentance, like always. "No matter what happens, remember we love you, Nick Knight. And always will, forever." He was a little confused, but touched by their sincerity. "Same goes for you two. If you need me, I'm here. Forever." "Cool." They hugged him one last time, he kissed each of them, then they headed for the cab that had magically appeared at just the right time. As it pulled away, they leaned out the windows to wave at him, not pulling their heads in until they were out of sight. ********************************************************************* Aftermath by Spifff (unaffiliated) Place: Spifff's apartment Time: Sunday August 11 evening, 9pm Most of her houseguests had departed during the afternoon in a flurry of hugs and tearful goodbyes. Spifff surveyed the debris left scattered around her apartment. Comet cat was busy pushing a bottle top around in the corner beside Diane's bag. There seemed to be a dirty sock lying under the couch. It was probably hers. Oh well, at least we kept our socks, she smirked. I'll clean up tommorrow she thought. Right now I'm off to bed. With luck she would sleep til Tuesday. Good night. ********************************************************************* So long, and thanks for all the Crackers (01/01) By: Berg Oswell, Mercenary Time: The party at the end of the War Place: The party at the end of the War Having arrived late to the party, I'd missed most of the fireworks, but on the plus side, that updraft *did* give me a nice aerial view of Toronto. ALL of Toronto. Heading inside, I realized that the party was winding down, and people were already leaving. Seeing a familiar set of whiskers at a nearby table, I headed over. Timon was sitting on the table, chittering something in ratspeak. Reaching into my pocket, I dropped a packet of crackers on the table, and, as Timon scampered over to chow down, I reached down, and tweaked his nose, while yelling "ARuuuuugha! ARuuuuugha!" Turning my back on Timon's outraged stare, I left the party, donned my hang glider, and headed for home. ********************************************************************* The Last Request by, Charlyne, Crystal and Jay of the Vaqueras/os and Mel of the N&N Pack Once it looked like the truce was going to work, Vachon, Charlyne, Jay, and Crystal decided to provide the music for the party. The long weeks of the war had given them a chance to talk. They had found out a common interest in music. Charlyne borrowed a keyboard from her friend Dale. Jay borowed an electric guitar from his brother's best friend. Charlyne set up the keyboard that she borrowed from her friend. Jay and Vachon decided that Vachon would play the accoustics (his six string and Jay's twelve). Jay set up a borrowed electric guitar. They tuned them as close as they could get them. Then started fooling around in the tuning session by playing odd combinations of tunes such as Jump by Van Halen mixed with Turkey In The Straw. The crowd started to get excited as they recognised the warm up tunes. Once all the equipment was setup, Mel Moser took control of the keyboard, Charlyne pulled out her flute, Jay and Vachon tuned their guitars and Crystal warmed up her voice. They confirmed the play list and decided to start off with 'Summer Time Blues.' They moved into a variety of songs and started taking requests from the audience. After a couple songs, Mel stepped over and whispered in Vachon's ear. Vachon nodded and waved Crystal over and talked to her briefly then nodded at both of the ladies. Crystal went and talked to the others filling them in on the next song requests. Mel smiled and gave Vachon a quick kiss on the cheek. He winked at her and stepped up to the mike. "This next song goes out to Natalie, from Nick". Vachon smiled and stepped back and let Crystal step up to the mike. The band began the song. It was "Because You Loved Me", the popular song being sung by Celine Dione Because You Loved Me Words & Music, by Diane Warren As Sung By Celine Dion in Up Close & Personal For all those times you stood by me For all the truth that you made me see For all the joy you brought to my life For all the wrong that you made right For every dream you made come true For all the love I found in you I'll be forever thankful baby You're the one who held me up Never let me fall You're the one who saw me through Through it all You were my strength when I was weak You were my voice when I couldn't speak You were my eyes when I couldn't see You saw the best there was in me Lifted me up when I couldn't reach You gave me faith 'coz you believed I'm everything I am Because you loved me You gave me wings and made me fly You touched my hand I could touch the sky I lost my faith, you gave it back to me You said no star was out of reach You stood by me and I stood tall I had your love I had it all I'm grateful for each day you gave me Maybe I don't know that much But I know this much is true I was blessed because I was loved by you. You were my strength when I was weak You were my voice when I couldn't speak You were my eyes when I couldn't see You saw the best there was in me Lifted me up when I couldn't reach You gave me faith 'coz you believed I'm everything I am Because you loved me You were always there for me The tender word that carried me A light in the dark shining your love into my life You've been my inspiration Thorugh the lies you were the truth My world is a better place because of you You were my strength when I was weak You were my voice when I couldn't speak You were my eyes when I couldn't see You saw the best there was in me Lifted me up when I couldn't reach You gave me faith 'coz you believed I'm everything I am Because you loved me Crystal sighed softly as the song ended, the last strains of the music and her lovely voice echoeing thru the Raven. Mel noticed the N&Npackers all smiling, with tears in their eyes. She looked at Vachon again, who nodded and stepped up to the mike. "And this one goes out to Tracy, " Vachon smiled and blinked, looking slightly awkward. He scuffled his foot a little on the stage in his shyness. "Ahem. From me. And to Natalie from Nick." He kept his eyes down on his guitar as Crystal took the mike again. The band began a nice rhythmic beat and Crystal began the opening strain of "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You". Charlyne smiled remembering the song from her wedding. The song was originally sung by Elvis, but she liked this modern arrangement of the song too. As Crystal sang her heart out to all of the dedications, a thought entered her mind. She whispered, "Hey, Charlyne! What would the Vaqueros sing to Vachon?" "How about "'You're the Inspiration' by Chicago?" Charlyne replied. So the impromptu group started the song to Vachon. All the Vaqueros, became very quiet and reflective. They thought about the loss and resurrection of Vachon and of how happy they were to have him back in their lives. Vachon felt a little embarrassed, when he felt eyes upon him from his followers. As the song ended, Crystal was feeling like she couldn't stand the lump in her heart. Then she said..."Ok folks! Enough of this sentiment! Now a different song for Vachon...everybody stand up. I want to hear you clap like this!!!" As Crystal started the crowd into the rhythmic clapping she went to confer with her bandmates...suddenly Jay started thumping hard chords on the electric guitar. The crowd cheered as the words entered into the rhythmic beat..."Wild Thing..You Make My Heart Sing...You Make Everything... Groovy...Wild Thing!!!!" The Vaqueros started screaming. Vachon shook his long hair and tried his best to look like a sixties rock & roller. Both the musicians and the crowd alike got into the music. Charlyne thought to herself, 'This is the way to end a war." ********************************************************************* Susan's Birthday Present (1/1) by Ravens Cynthia Hoffman and Jane Credland Date: Sunday, August 11, 1996 at 10:00 p.m. Taking place prior to "Settling Accounts Payable" by Felicia Bollin (which now takes place at 11:00 p.m. fyi). All the Raven/ettes except Susan Garrett were huddled in Janette's office. They had perched themselves on every available surface, including the floor. Despite advance warning, almost all of them had ended up finishing their packing in a rush. In twos and threes, they were exchanging complaints and stories about how difficult it was to pack in less than four or five hours. Disgruntled references to crushed clothing and the lack of space to fit in the purchases made while in Toronto were another popular topic. Each time the buzz of whispered conversation reached a level loud enough to be heard in the hallway outside, someone would "shush" and it would drop down again. "Do you have it?" Cynthia bent down to Jane, who was sitting with her back against the wall. "Yes." Jane handed over a gold-wrapped present. "I made sure that everyone signed it, plus all the characters. I even got Sharon to sign it." "Hush. She's coming." Melanie whispered from her post by the door. Instantly, everyone became completely silent. The sounds of footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway, then Susan's voice. "I don't understand why we have to do this in your office." "Cherie, you have been lax in your duties this war. We need to talk about how to handle this next time. You wouldn't want to do this in the bar where everyone could hear, n'est-ce pas?" Janette replied. Before Susan could reply, the vampire threw open the door and all of the Raven/ettes yelled, "SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" A shy smile spread across Susan's face, replacing the shock that had been her first reaction. "You remembered." "As if we would forget." Cynthia gave Susan a huge hug. "Happy birthday sweetie." One by one, all the Raven/ettes embraced Susan and added their own personal birthday greetings. She had earned a special place in their hearts, and they wanted to show their appreciation of her kindness. At the very last, Janette moved forward and enfolded the Raven/ette leader in her arms, then kissed her on each cheek. Janette led Susan to the wing chair and, once she was comfortably ensconced there, placed the gift in her hands. "Bonne fete, cherie." "Thank you. You didn't need to..." "Of course we did." Jane interrupted. Catherine added, "Now open the present already." The paper was rapidly removed and discarded in the waste basket to reveal its contents: a large, leather bound book. Written on its cover in gilt letters were the words "Lamentation for Strings by Susan Garrett". Inside, on special dedication pages at the front, were the birthday wishes. ****** Happy birthday, Susan. ********************************************************************* Reunion (1/3) by Tigon Diana Hooker/AlphaWoof~WoofPack Sunday/11 AUG 1996/10:15pm Toronto, Jody's Plane Hanger Jody had actually arrived early that morning so that she could take off as soon as night fell. Even with her specially tinted windows to keep out particular bands of light harmful to vampires, she had embraced her new life enough to prefer the night. She met Tigon and the others as they entered the hanger, Perry running ahead to joyfully jump up and give her a thorough face-wash with his tongue. "Hi," greeted Jody. "How did it go?" She eyed Tigon's sling with mild worry, "Or shouldn't I ask?" "It went fairly well," Tigon smiled, the introduced everybody. "You remember Steve, Becky, and the dogs...this is our other member, Maryann." The two woman shook hand. "And these are my fellow Fang Gangers, Starr and Lizbet. Starr needs to be dropped off in Tennessee, by the way, but Lizbet's another Angeleno." Looking confused, Jody said, "But where's the other one...the one you had me set up everything for?" Tigon shared an evil grin with Starr, "Oh...she's here." Shrugging, Jody said, "I'll take your word for it...load on up. The people you had me pick up are already on board, the clothes are in the closet, the music's in the stereo." "And...the other set-up?" "Is in the lower storage compartment. The stair access is behind the galley." Jody shook her head again, "I really don't want to know what this is about...c'mon Perry." "What's going on?" asked Lizbet. "We're having a party," said Starr innocently. Steve, Becky, and Maryann shared a look...they had been told what to expect. "It's sort of a coming out party." "Let's load up," urged Tigon. Inside they found that the plane's interior had been festooned with Ren Faire banners and other paraphenalia. Also present were some representatives of various Ren Faire guilds...eight men to be exact. Lizbet's eyes took a slightly glazed look, "Oooooh, Faire! Too bad we don't have costumes." One of the Guild member came forward, sweeping his hat from his head, "Actually you do, fair wench...in the closets." The slightly glazed look became a definite gleam as Rosemund took definite control of Lizbet's body. Kicking up her heels, the wench said, "My thanks, kind sir!" and dashed off to change. "I think you were supposed to chase her," observed Tigon. "Tis alway best to wait til they're in costume, m'lady." The rogue answered, "And you would do well in costume yourself." Tigon considered...but decided that a bodice would look fairly ridiculous with her cast. "I fear that I shall be unable to lace myself up with this." "I would be only too happy to assist thee." he offered. Starr laughed hysterically as Tigon turned beet-red. ********************************************************************* Reunion (2/3) by Tigon Diana Hooker/AlphaWoof~WoofPack Sunday/11 AUG 1996/10:30pm Jody's Jet, In Transit Rosemund returned in costume just in time to be strapped in for take off. Soon they were in the air, and could roam at will. They all went to change and put away their things as the Guild folk began playing lively dance tunes for Rosemund. Tigon steadfastly refused to deal with a costume, but insisted that Starr help her strap on her authentic Gladius. "Don't know why you're bothering," Starr muttered, "You're left-handed, how can you use this?" Tigon grumbled and pulled off the sling, "Try to switch it around to the other side then...I'm *sooo* glad I finally found a left-handed frog," she observed sarcastically, "Of course now I need a right- handed one." "Well, I've seen you use a sword with either hand, even if you favor the left. I still don't know why you bother...do you think that one sword will do better that a pack of vampire dogs?" "I'm trying to keep them under wraps, remember?" responded Tigon. "These guys just think we're bored rich folk looking for fun." Leaving Starr, the AlphaWoof sought out Steve. Still trying to twist the sword into a right-hand draw, she addressed the MuscleWoof far more seriously than she ever had. "Look, she's not herself when she's Rosemund...no matter what she does, stay away from her." Steve looked hurt, so Tigon went on, "I need you to be on guard...these guys know the rules, but it could get carried away. I may need your help with them, but I can't worry about Rosemund getting ahold of you." Steve considered, then nodded. "Okay, you can count on me. What about the guy in the basement though?" "Jody's taken definite...um...measures to ensure he doesn't cross a certain line." "You mean she whammied him." "Within an inch of his life." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Note: A frog is a leather series of loops and buckles designed to connect a sheathed sword to a seperate belt. It took me an eternity to find a left-handed one that wasn't a piece of crap. ********************************************************************* The Die-Hards Go Home By Laura Ruggiero When: After sunset, August 11, 1996 Where Die-Hard HQ [Still no word from the Die-Hards--where are you guys?] It had taken them a awhile, but all the debris from the Grand Opening where cleaned up. Tomorrow the museum would begin operating under its normal daytime hours. (Until the next war when it would again be open at night.) Finally the Die-Hards would have a consistent source of income. The Mercs had the chocolate shop, Rich, Dark, Mysterious, and DarkAngels Dangerous Liaisons, not to mention their merc jobs; the FoDs had the Happy Solvalki Deli; and The Knighties, Cousins, and Ravenettes all had extremely rich patrons. They weren't sure where the other affiliations acquired their money, but they got it somewhere. At least the Die-Hards wouldn't have to scramble for war funds anymore; they were sure the museum would do very well. (Especially when it came to the rental of some of the props.) Everyone had their stuff packed. They were ready to go home and get back to their mundane lives. Hands were shook, hugs exchanged, everyone was trying to convince themselves the war was really over. Laura gave everyone bone-crushing hugs (tm) and saw them all off. This was it, everyone was gone. She turned off the lights, locked the door, and walked out to her taxi. -------- Goodbye everyone. It's been fun. (Even though I had to miss some of the fun do to Real Life) I even survived being a leader. See you all on the lists and on the IRC. ********************************************************************* Send me Forget-Me-Nots... (01/01) by Immortal Beloved/Ravenette Melanie Hernandez, with input from Felicia Bollin Time: around eleven PM, Sunday August 10th Place: The Raven Most everyone had already taken their stuff, said their good byes and left the Raven. Melanie had enjoyed watching them all interact...there was Susan, ably making sure that everyone was being served at the same time she tried to straighten out her own personal effects, Chanda's medication-induced hallucinations and Felicia trying to save and calm Chanda at the same time, Tara and Miklos sparring, Catherine and Jasmine carting stacks of books, Cynthia looking a bit agog at all the mess strewn about (well, at least it wasn't redecorating). Now her Civic was all packed and ready to go. Chanda and Felicia were still loading their stuff into the IB van, with numerous side trips to laugh and chat with friends and faces they recognized. Taking advantage of the lull, Melanie took a deep breath and leaned against her car. 'What a war' she thought to herself. Soon she'd be following that van to the freeway only to all too quickly drive in the opposite direction to get back to her beloved Inland Empire in Southern California. Then Melanie rememebered that she had left her notebook on the bar. She had better not forget that...it had some of her best ideas in it for the *next* war. So she ran back inside to get it. Inside the Raven was *very* quiet. Melanie lingered and played in the chains for a bit (she had always wanted to do that) before going over to the bar. Then, as she was untangling herself and the chains, a voice startled her. "Having fun, are you?" Melanie turned to see Janette standing behind her with her arms crossed and an intimidating glare, which did not quite come off due to the tiny smile on her face and the twinkle in her eyes--- was that a twinkle? Yes, that was most definitely a twinkle. "Janette! " Melanie removed herself from the chains and walked as calmly as she could over to her idol. She extended her hand to the gracious and most beautiful vampire. "I am glad I have finally gotten the chance to meet you. My name is Melanie Hernandez." Janette took her hand and inclined her head in a gracious, fluid movement. "I know. Cynthia told me who you were at the beginning. You've been quite quiet lately. I trust your stay here at the Raven has not been---disappointing?" "Oh no, not in the least." Melanie demurred quickly, then continued. "I apologize for not being very active in this war, but I am new around here. I think I have finally got a grip on all this and I swear to you I will do my best to defend you and your club in the next war." Janette smiled genuinely. "That is very sweet of you to say." Looking around the club, she uncrossed her arms and said, "This is all rather overwhelming, certainly. Sometimes, it even confuses _me_. I'm sure you acquitted yourself quite well, for a newcomer. ANd one thing I have learned from these Wars, there will always be a next time, yes?" Melanie beamed happily. Then Melanie heard Felicia yelling from outside. They were ready to roll. She turned to the door and yelled out to Felicia "I'm on my way...don't leave without me!" When she turned back, Janette was gone. Melanie peered around the club and there was not a sign of her. Melanie shrugged her shoulders and smiled...'I've finally met Mistress Janette, now I can die a happy Ravenette!' Still smiling, she walked over the bar, grabbed her notebook and headed out to her car...her first war had come to an end. ********************************************************************* Settling Accounts Payable(01/01) Time: Around ten PM, Sunday August 11th Setting: Raven By Felicia Bollin, in Immortal Beloved capacity Felicia sat at the bar, scribbling madly. Where _had_ the time gone? If it weren't for the intervention of several kind Warriors, she would have spent most of her time in Toronto sitting on a bar stool. The kindness of all the party invitations, and that delightful Shakespeare play, touched her to her core. Meeting everyone at those events, especially the legendary Merc Mommy and the GHP, was one of the high points of the War so far. She just wished she had had more time to *do* everything..... But now, regardless of that or not, she had to pay the piper. "Miki?" she asked, pasting on her best smile. Miklos resisted the temptation to edge warily away from her. "Yes?" He polished and dried the Waterford tumbler. Felicia gave him a brilliant smile. "Could I have a can of Coke?" Still watching her, Miklos set a can on the edge of the bar. Felicia took it. "And a jar of Beluga?" Miklos looked funny out of the corner of his eye. Felicia shrugged. "Hey, I'm hungry *and* thirsty, what can I say." Handing her the jar from behind the bar refrigerator, Miklos noticed that despite her assertion, she made no attempt to pop the top on the can. Strange. Miklos went back to his drying. A few more minutes of scratch, scratch, scratch from Felicia's pen. "Miklos?" the unwantedly familiar voice chimed. Miklos, keeping his sigh in check, nodded again. "Could I have a case of Perrier?" "A *case*?" he asked, warily. This was getting stranger and stranger, and he, personally, thought that the Raven had seen more than enough water thrown around this evening. "Um-hmm. I'm *really* thirsty." Pasted her wide-eyed, ingenuous- smile look on her face. She still wasn't as good at it as Tara, but it was worth a try. Miklos still looked cynical and doubtful, his mouth twisting into a thin line, then a shape that Felicia had never thought possible outside of a book. It looked oddly like a snake. But he set the case of Perrier on the bar with a resounding thump anyway. Then he waited, watching her suspiciously all the while, but Felicia merely nodded her thanks, smiled sweetly, and went back to her blank book. Silence reigned again. Then came the familiar sound, "Miklos?" Keeping his temper in check again, Miklos threw his cloth down on the bar and bit off, "*What*?" Felicia looked shyly up from under her lashes. The maneuvre, which usually worked shamefully well with mortal men, seemed to move Miklos not one whit. But she persevered anyway. "And can I have a few bars of soap? Dove, if you have it. Six, if you can spare them," she added hastily at his expression, wanting to get it out quickly. At this, Miklos rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. You're feeling really dirty too." "Something like that." Felicia smiled, praying she wouldn't start to turn red or do anything else telltale. "I think I still have spots of the ebony vegetable hair dye on my arms from earlier this week." Holding back a sigh, Miklos said, "Fine. But you're going to have to wait. I'll have to send someone down to the storeroom." "That's fine. I'll wait." Miklos still mistrusted this sudden docility, but she wasn't throwing herself at him; so as a result of this felicitous (no pun intended) happenstance, he cared much less and had a far more indulgent view of the requests than he knew he probably should. Miklos nodded to a passing waitress, and whispered in her ear. They both sent Felicia looks of disgust, but went anyway. Some ten minutes later, the surly waitstaff returned with a very dusty sixpack of Dove. Felicia thanked her prettily, as befitted an errand run by vampwaiter, and balanced it gingerly on top of her case of Perrier next to the can of Coke and the caviar. She stood up, taking the book with her, and moving off. "I'll be back," she chirped merrily. "Wait!" Miklos couldn't help himself. "What the devil are you going to do with all that? A minute ago, I thought you were so all-fired _hungry_, and so _thirsty_ . Now you look like you're going to run off to a shelter and heap largesse on the downtrodden." "Well--- the soda is for Lane. I contracted for a little bit of computer business with him, which I couldn't find time to use, but I thought I should pay him anyway. You never know *what's* in that Merc charter; don't want him to get in trouble. The Beluga is an apology for not using it, after he went through the trouble. And the soap and Perrier are for Lisa Prince, as payment for that splendid cotton candy attack." Miklos looked at her again. Felicia was getting a little scared at the "let's just eat her and remove the problem, okay?" expression. "You do realize that this is coercion. To say the least. If I wanted to, I _could_ make a case for theft, to Janette. You're really trying my patience. You do realize that I _might_ just take you up on that little 'offer' you made to me behind closed doors, don't you? The one involving... _platelets_?" Miklos moved menacingly in her direction. "Come on, Miki. This stuff can't be more than fifty dollars CDN." Since she had no idea of the market value of Beluga caviar, she hoped fervently that she was in the ballpark. Backing away from his dour glare, she walked backwards into the crowd, calling "I'll write you a check when I get back! Swear!" "You do remember you still *owe* Janette something for that 'little favor' she did for Ursula, don't you?" Miklos called after her. Shaking his head as she vanished, he uttered not for the first time that immortal phrase, "Mortals. Can't live with them, can't live with them." ********************************************************************* The Cousins Go Home by Lisa McDavid After everything else is over and the Cousins are all back at CERK "And if I do say so myself, no troops I have ever commanded at any time have ever been as loyal. Certainly none have ever been as devious or as evil-minded. Congratulations, Cousins." LaCroix bowed in response to the applause that shook the operations room. Fred, on his shoulder, flapped his wings and gave a battle cry. "Now, return your cell phones to Cousin Lisa and receive your travel packets from Cousin Tok. Good night." And somehow, without using either the staircase or the window, the vampire and the eagle vanished. Cousin Cherri, was the first to open her package. "Oh, look!" She had found the lapel pin that had been issued as a souvenir to all the Cousins. It took the form of a flying bald eagle, carrying in his talons a laurel wreath, and within the Laurel wreath the Roman numeral VII. She was still exclaiming over it as she led the other out-of- towners onto the bus that took them to the airport where they all left for home. ********************************************************************* Thank you, everyone in the Cousins, and especially Tok for taking on the Co-Leadership at the last moment. It's been great. ********************************************************************* Reunion (3/3) by Tigon Diana Hooker/AlphaWoof~WoofPack Sunday/11 AUG 1996/11:30pm Jody's Jet, In Transit Rosemund finished her latest game of tonsil hockey with the eighth and last guild member, then kicked up her heels and darted over to where Tigon and Starr stood, trying *not* to watch. "Tis a most wondrous celebration...I have equaled my past record!" Tigon and Starr rolled their eyes at Lizbe...er...Rosemund's record keeping. They had witness her tallying of kisses a few months ago when Lizbet had taken them to Ren Faire, only to abandon them to her alterego Rosemund. Rosemund had achieved a new record that day... eight kisses. In the process, however, Tigon received some unwelcome pawing, had to rescue Rosemund from a few potential situations, blushed until she looked perpetually sunburnt, and at one point (as they exited the Faire and she stupidly thought herself safe) found herself swept off her feet into a game of tonsil hockey herself. While Tigon appreciated a good game and the guy *was* cute, she wasn't fond of playing with a stranger...particularly someone who had spent the day playing with many, many strangers. Lex talionis...an eye for an eye. Of course, the problem with Rosemund is that she has no problems with strangers...therefore it was rather hard coming up with a like retribution. An evil grin spread across Tigon's face...she *had* come up with a suitable revenge though. Rosemund, spying the look, said, "My spine doth crawl when you do that." The grin grew, and Rosemund backed uneasily away. "Soooooo," purred Tigon, "What's the tally?" Rosemund's eyes brightened, "I have already equaled my past record! I need but one more kiss to surpass it!" She peered around, "But I fear I've run out of men...ah, wait!" Her gaze fell on Steve, who shot Tigon a frantic look before he began backing away. "No, good sir," chastised Rosemund, "Thou art supposed to chase me!" Steve bolted, locking himself in the lavatory. "Oh, fie!" exploded the wench, "How ever shall I surpass myself?" Starr took her by the arm, leading her towards the galley and the staircase to the lower level. "Oh, we've made arrangements," the cousin assured the worried little wench, "Someone's waiting for you downstairs." Rosemund brightened and they filed down the stairs, accompanied by Maryann and Becky. The storage compartment was currently storing the dogs, who wagged happy tails at their appearance. "Oh!" exclaimed Rosemund with slight alarm. "Fear not," reassured Tigon, "The beasts answer to me." Admittedly, Tigon was getting a little into her role. Rosemund eyed her warily, "All these? Some of these are dark creations...are you a creature of darkness?" Starr snorted as Tigon strove to keep a safe face. "I keep telling her that myself!" she laughed. Muttering "Look who's talking!" under her breath, Tigon continued. "There awaits your final suitor and your ninth kiss." She pointed to a chamber at the end of the compartment. Rosemund giggled and kicked up her heels, traipsing the the chamber and swinging open the door. She screamed in horror. ********************************************************************* The Chocolate Vendor (1/1) by Tigon Diana Hooker/AlphaWoof~WoofPack Sunday/11 AUG 1996/11:50pm Jody's Jet, In Transit (immediately following "Reunion" part 3) One of the situations Tigon had been required to rescue Rosemund from at Faire was a chocolate vendor. He quite lustily pursued the little wench, who (after receiving her needed kiss) did not wish to be so pursued. He was quite persistent though, even going so far as to shove his phone number into *Starr's* hand lest 'Rosemund' were to decide she wanted him after all. Fortuitously, Starr had held onto the number. The sligtly pudgy man dressed head to toe in a black Ren Faire costume and wearing anachronistic glasses was only *too* happy to take a long plane trip for some more tonsil hockey with Rosemund. He had also brought along a good deal of his chocolate and stood in the chamber doorway holding a batch. "Ah, my svelte one," he proclaimed, "You need to sample my wares!" Rosemund shrieked again in horror and spat at Tigon, "You *are* a creature of darkness!" "Did I say I wasn't?" Tigon asked mildly. Then she and Starr each seized an arm and began dragging the wench towards the chamber. Maryann rushed over to help, pushing Rosemund from behind and commenting, "After what she did to Nick in that translation booth, I'm all for this!" Tigon looked aghast at Rosemund, wondering what had happened after she left the language session, and decided she didn't want to know. The three women shoved Lizbet's alterego into the waiting arms of the chocolate vendor and began to close the door. "Wait," Tigon said, considering. She motioned for Harry Jack to come over and join the duo within. "I know Jody whammied him...but it's always good to have a backup." They sealed the chamber. Steve came down and joined them as they regarded sturdy cell. Jody dealt with a lot of Enforcers...Enforcers that sometimes needed to transport unwilling vampires. They had constructed this chamber to carry them safely. 'Rosemund' was not getting out until they let her out. "Y'know," pondered Tigon, "We could use a vacation." "Tell me about it!" agreed Becky. "So I was thinking...why don't we drop off Maryann in Florida first? Maybe by way of Disneyworld?" "That's sooo cruel, sooo vicious..." remarked Starr with and evil grin. "Sooooo good. Let's do it!" Maryann frowned, "How many days are we talking about leaving her in there?" Tigon calculated, "Oh, three or four." "What will she eat?" worried Steve. "Oh, that's no problem...there's a little door to slide in food. Besides, there's an *awful* lot of chocolate in there already." "Um," Becky said, "I though Lizbet wasn't allowed to eat chocolate on her diet." "That's right...*Lizbet* isn't." "That's soooo cruel, soooo vicious..." Starr exclaimed, "I love it!" Tigon chuckled evilly and soon was joined by everyone, "I'll go inform Jody of the change in plans." ********************************************************************* It's the End of the War As We Know It... by Dianne la Mercenaire [Timeline: 11:57pm, Sunday 8/11/96] *Warning: Joint Sap/Bad poetry alert! :-)* The CN Tower wasn't open this late, but Dianne hadn't let that stop her in any of the previous wars, and she didn't see why it should now. Standing at the very top alone, looking out over the lights of Toronto, she thought about the confusion, the stress, the laughter, the fighting, the fun, the late, late nights (or were those early, early mornings?)-- and found herself whispering the words she'd left on a little card tucked stealthily into the luggage of each and every Merc: "Here's to all the Mercs in this little War From the hack to the hired spy, And to the others who shared our game-- Until we all gather here for mayhem once more May your risks be low and your profits high And your trechery always the same!" "Chocolate, Freedom, Mayhem for Profit!" Thanks guys, it's been grand! Dianne, Your Grand High Poohbah As she heard a nearby bell-tower strike midnight, Dianne smiled to herself and turned to go. ********************************************************************* Love Remains by Cousin Tok time: August 12th, just before dawn place: CERK Cousin Tok looked around the Cousins' quarters at CERK one last time. Nothing of hers was left here. Her suitcases were in the car, and all the cats' stuff as well. All she had to do was collect Willow and Merlin and leave...after saying one last goodbye. She found Merlin relaxing near an air-conditioning vent, but Willow was nowhere to be found. The door down to the basement stood open a crack and a light shone through. Tok went down the stairs, followed cautiously by Merlin. Willow sat nose to nose with Cousin Gandalf on top of a dusty box. "There you are, little girl," Tok said to Willow. "I thought for a minute that you'd run off on me again. We have to get going soon, you know." Tok knelt on the floor next to Gandalf and scratched the vamp-kitty's ears. "I'm glad you were here, old buddy. I've really missed you these last few months." Gandalf thought back at her. Gandalf jumped down from the box and approached Merlin, but Merlin turned and ran away. Tok sat down on the floor and let Gandalf climb on her lap. It was almost like old times, but things could never be quite like that again, could they? "Gandalf, I really wish I could take you back home with me. But you and I know that can't happen." Tok paused and wiped a hand over her eyes. "I'll be back the next time there's a War, though. I'll see you again then." She bent down and kissed his head. "I love you, even if you are a grumpy old man. Be happy, sweetheart." She removed him from her lap and stood stiffly. "Come on, Willow. We have to go." Willow could have sworn she saw tears running down Mom's face as she turned and climbed the steps without a backward glance. Kingdoms come and go, but they don't last Before you know, the future is the past In spite of what's been lost or what's been gained We are living proof that love remains. Willow cocked her head in Gandalf's direction. He looked sad too. Gandalf was suddenly in front of her. she replied. Willow rubbed her head against his and purred. He gave her forehead a brotherly lick. She bounced up the stairs, turning back at the top for another look; Gandalf was gone. Willow ran outside, where Tok scooped her up in her arms and they got in the car. Willow and Merlin curled up together in the back as Tok pulled away from CERK. From an upstairs window, Gandalf watched them until they were out of sight. He turned and disappeared inside the radio station. I don't know, baby, what I'd do On this earth without you We all live, we all die But the end is not goodbye The sun comes up, seasons change Through it all, love remains An eternal burning flame Hope lives on, love remains. Fin ---------------------------------------------------- I hereby dedicate my part in this war to the real "Cousin" Gandalf (10/?/79 - 3/30/96), the best cat in the world and my dearest friend for over sixteen years. I miss you, buddy, and someday we'll meet again on the Rainbow Bridge; love, Mom. ********************************************************************* Vaquero Summer Fun - Finis 2/2 Location: Toronto and points West Time: After Vaquero Summer Fun - Finis 1/2 and anything else we might have been doing Sunday. :) Date: August 11th by Sherri L. Campbell Apache was shaking her head as they headed for the chartered jet. "I don't know how I'm going to explain this to my accountant!" Torrey laughed and slapped Apache lightly on the shoulder. "It'll turn out okay, Apache. Just mark it all down as a donation to the Universal Life Church." Apache just groaned as she was dragged up the stairs to the jet. Sherri was yelling to Kat, as she staggered up to the plane. "Hey, Kat! I was afraid you didn't get my message. Isn't this more fun than flying your boring old plane home?" Kat just shook her head as she dragged her luggage up the steps, she was much too out of breath from running to respond. * * * * The Vaqueros, and Kat (not a Vaquero), stood surveying their new location with pleasure. "Yes, Torrey! You *are* brilliant!" was heard from someone in the back. Torrey looked around, and answered with a smile. "Don't look at me guys! McKenna is the brilliant one!" With whoops the Vaqueros spread out to enjoy themselves. The private beach rapidly began to resemble chaos - some Vaqueros were playing volleyball, others were swimming in the surf, yet others were lined up at the bar shack, waiting patiently for their concoctions of choice. Torrey, Sherri and Kat had taken shelter under a large umbrella and palm tree, so they were out of the sun. Kat leaned over to the two leaders. "Hey, you two! What on earth prompted this?" Torrey laughed. "I think it was a popular uprising. No-one wanted the fun to end!" Looking with approval at the various Vaqueros at play, she leaned back and relaxed for the first time since the war had begun. She turned and faced west. "Oh man, would you look at that? Isn't the sun setting over Diamondhead one of the prettiest things you've ever seen? I sure wish the other affiliations could be here." Sherri looked over at Torrey, and lazily quirked an eyebrow. "Well, we *could* send them a postcard..." As Kat collapsed into giggles at the thought of postcards from the Vaqueros, Torrey smiled. "Yes! Let's do that!" Soon, all the FK War-riors, where-ever they are, received a postcard with a photo of Diamondhead, Hawaii on one side (with the sun setting...) and the obverse message said: "Having a great time, Wish you were here! Vaqueros" Our peaceful scene full of happy, relaxed Vaqueros (and Kat) having a great time ends here. Hope you all enjoyed our adventures for War 7. ********************************************************************* So soon? Date: August 11, 1996 Time: The end of the war Place: Yonge Street, just south of Grenville ======================================== "Is it that time already?" Jamie wondered aloud. She took a sip of her cappuccino and reflected that she hadn't gotten nearly as much done this war as she'd hoped to. On the other hand, she'd been kidnapped, lured, whammied, taken flying, she'd spent several days believing that she was Tracy, not to mention the virtual backstage passes Chris had gotten her... "Not bad for someone who barely wrote a half a kilobyte's worth of war fiction," said one of the other people sitting at the table, invisible to everyone but Jamie, who (as always) could see and hear them quite clearly. "But I had such plans," Jamie sighed. "I mean, the whole Elmo thing... I never dealt with that..." Her auditors were less than sympathetic. "You abandoned *our* story halfway through," pointed out another of the invisible people, "and in a rather awkward spot, at that." "Yeah," seconded the first, "and what about that shower scene?" "You wouldn't be *getting* that shower scene if it hadn't proven to be such a perfect Merc bribe," Jamie shot back, feeling singularly contentious. Normally, the people who came to visit the inside of her head were relatively quiet, polite, usually reasonable -- but these two were the most demanding visitors she'd ever known. "You just don't let up, do you?" "We let you go to California," the woman reminded her. "And we let you play in the war," the man spoke up. "It's not our fault that you spent most of your time busy or in pain." "You are both the most $#@!ing annoying..." Jamie let her voice trail off, not finishing the sentiment; while it was true that the voices in her head could be a royal pain in the posterior sometimes, her life would have been far less fun without them. "Oh, well," she said, to nobody in particular. "There's always next war..." And for absolutely no reason, she began to laugh. "Come on," she said, draining the last of her coffee and standing up. "We have work to do." "You're finishing the story," said the woman. "Among other things," Jamie told her cheerfully, limping happily down Yonge Street toward the Greyhound station. ======================================= Until next time... ********************************************************************* Don't you even go there By Angie Lotto (Cousin) Time - End of the war Place - The airport After getting off the Cousins bus, she hugged all her new closest friends. She looked around for the California contingent and after seeing Cherri and telling her they would meet on the plane, she ran over to the phones... Dropping a fistful of coins into the slot, she hurredly dialed a number. Waiting for him to answer, she looked at her watch impatiently. "Hello sweetie? I'm just about to board the plane. Will you make sure you are at LAX for me?" "Sure Ang, missed you awful, how was the war?" "Well, it was interesting... can't wait till I get home, I missed you so much! Wait till I tell you about The General! He's such a cool vampire!" "Uh.... Angie? Don't go there ok?" ********************************************************************* Apology Accepted By Diane Echelbarger, unaffiliated, Lorelei Feldman, Ravenette, and Sherri Campbell, Vaquera Sunday, August 11, late evening The Raven wrap party Diane got to her feet and cautiously made her way through the crowds to the bar. For the first time since her release from the hospital yesterday, there was no one on hand to tell her to sit down and rest, and she was rather grateful for the chance to move. she thought wryly. When she finally got Miklos' attention (noting with satisfaction that he was still wearing a certain silver pocket watch and chain), she got a refill on her cranberry juice cocktail and began walking slowly back to the table, skirting the dance floor and trying to spot people backing up *before* they bumped into her. She had set her glass down and was about to take her seat again when someone cleared his throat behind her. She turned and looked up. And up. It was Vachon, looking almost as nervous as she felt. Without realizing what she was doing, Diane slipped her hand into the new Russian-style shirt she wore (purchased Saturday afternoon at the St. Lawrence Market) and clutched her pewter Cornish cross. "Hi," the vampire said. "Umm... can we talk?" Diane smiled nervously up at him. "Sure. Uhhh... have a seat?" They took adjoining chairs at the table (Diane still unconsciously gripping the cross) and an awkward silence fell. "Look, I just..." Vachon started. "I know you..." Diane began, at the same moment. They both stopped. Stared at each other a moment. Then Vachon glanced across the crowded club, and Diane dropped her eyes to the table. After another awkward pause, the vampire turned back to the mortal. "I wanted to apologize," he said quickly. "I wasn't-- myself that night, if you get me." "I know." Diane raised her eyes from her glass and smiled. Greatly daring, she reached out her free hand to pat the tall vampire's arm, and opened her mouth to say "It's all right, Vachon." What came out was "Kharasho, Vascha." Before she could react to the gibberish, Vachon's hand flashed out and grabbed her arm in a painfully tight grip. "*What* did you say?" he demanded, much too loudly. A shocked silence spread outward from the pair. "Uh..." She hesitated, winced at his grip, and replied in a small, uncertain voice, "I... uh... don't know?" A tense second passed. Then, Vachon released her grip and swallowed, visibly upset. "I'm sorry," he said, pushing his chair back, out of range of the badly frightened mortal. "You just-- reminded me of someone, for a minute there. I-- I've got to go." By the time she'd nodded in response, he was out the door of the club, into the night. Lorelei, who'd been nearby serving drinks when the incident occurred, approached Diane's table. "What was that about?" she asked. "I don't *know*," her War5 roommate replied, visibly upset. "Lorelei, you know a lot of languages. What does--" she frowned, trying to remember what she'd said-- "'Kharasho, Vascha' mean?" Lorelei thought about it a minute. Her Russian was kind of rusty. "I think kharasho means, 'It's all right', or something like that. And Vascha is a nickname for Vassily." She frowned slightly. "Is that what you said?" Her friend nodded. "Wonder why that would set him off?" "*I* don't know." Diane frowned, still bothered by the incident. "It's wierd, though. I don't speak Russian. A little bad French, a smattering of Spanish, that's it." "Strange," Lorelei agreed. "I've got to get back to work; can I get you something?" Diane shook her head. "No, thanks." As her friend moved back to the bar for another load of drinks, she frowned and muttered, "Wish I knew where that came from..." ********************************************************************* Turn, Turn, Turn.... by: Cousin Candice date: Sunday August 11th time: evening directly after Cousin Lisa's Cousins Going Home post (I know it's not the name, but I can't remember right now) Candice contemplated the gift. The lapel pin really was quite lovely and a sweet gesture. She liked the eagle carrying the laurel with the Roman numeral seven in its talons. It reminded her of victories past. But this war didn't feel victorious, it felt...incomplete. There were so many things that still needed to be said. To be done. Could those demands wait that long? It would be some time before the FK Warriors would be called back to duty, of that, Candice was positive. It was all a matter of time. Candice sighed in frustration. There were just too many unresolved situations for her. Perhaps it WAS a good thing to just go home and forget about it ...for a while, anyway. Candice looked to LaCroix, standing, watching them leave in drips and drabs, each saying goodbye in their own way. He saw her looking at him and he nodded. It was alright. Everything would be dealt with, in time. ********************************************************************* Hampsters (Hi, Carrie! No, not you.) by JamieMR Place in War canon: Diane -- Figure I'm at the Raven during the big closing scene, only I've got a headache, so I'm curled up in a corner half-asleep and hallucinating. Site of Hallucination: PSUVM listserv. {{{clickety-clack-clickety-clack}}} "Joe?" "Wha?" "My feet hurt." {{{clickety-clack-clickety-clack}}} "Joe?" "Wha?" "How long... do you think... we'll have to... keep doing this?" {{{clickety-clack-clickety-clack}}} "Joe?" "Wha?" "Y'think they'll... remember to... feed us?" "Shaddup, willya?" "We never... get to have... any fun..." "ShaddUP, Percy!" {{{clickety-clack-clickety-clack}}} (forlornly) "Hey... Joe?" "Whaddaya want, already?" "I'm tired..." "Shaddup and keep running, Percy." {{{clickety-clack-clickety-clack}}} This bit of nonsense has been brought to you courtesy of the fact that y'all managed to overload the list on the last day of the War, as is (I believe) customary. And by the letter J and the number 7. My thanks to everyone who participated, and especially to CatheBooBubbles and the Amazing Perridox who put it all together and made it work, and Diane E. for keeping track of it all. NOTE to all departing Warriors: Please drop the hamsters a virtual treat on your way out. ********************************************************************* Knight Watch by Perri Smith and Catherine Boone Aug 12, 8 p.m. The Precinct House Cpt. Joe Reese sat down at his desk, feeling his muscles protest. Each night seemed to be a little harder to get through. He found himself wondering when the next call would leave another of his detectives dead. It had been damned hard, losing both Tracy and Nick in the same night. He wondered sometimes if he was just getting too damn old for this business. A sudden commotion outside his office caught his attaention. He sighed, then hauled himself out of his chair again. He could check it out and get a drink of water at the same time. He got the drink all right, and turned around just in time to see the source of the commotion come in, looking completely innocent and confused as to why people were raising a fuss. Reese's paper cup hit the floor at his feet, spreading water everywhere. Nick Knight raised his eyebrows at it streamed towards his shoes. "Hi, Captain," he said cheerfully. "Sorry I'm late." ******* And th-th-that's all, folks! It's been a great war, now let's go back to having fun, eh? Thanks and hugs to all of the leaders, especially Jennie and Susan, and to Diane E and listmommy Jamie, for all of their hard work. Major hugs to the Knighties, who got thrown into this and made it through like champs. It was a helluva time! ********************************************************************* The Gathering Time: Sunday Noon. 12:00pm Location: NatPack Hostel By Lynn Stapleton Alora, Mei, Kelly, and Maureen had brought their luggage over to the house late yesterday evening, along with the dreaded news of Sharon's disappearance to a sighting of The Guy at Pearson Airport. However, it her absence, they did acquire quite a bit of cash, and a case of salt. There was much discussion about what to do, but it was agreed upon, that we would contact the other members of the Pack to convene to figure out a way to retrieve her. In the end, it would really be up to Sharon. This morning after putting on the kettle, and the coffee maker, we sat down, and began to call the others. My first call was to Jennie, at one of the dorms at the University of Toronto. "Hello?" she asked, wondering who had called the private line that had been set up for any news of Natalie's disappearance. "Hi, Jennie, it's Lynn. I was wondering if you could come to by the house around noon, for a meeting. Sharon's gone, but we've got plenty of salt to lure her back. We also need to discuss the probable attacks on Jamie and Maureen." "Good idea. Do we need to bring anything?" "Just yourselves, for now. I've got enough food to make for lunch. There's still quite a bit of space available here if you'd like to come. There's no smoking in the house. It has this tendency to drive me up the wall. However, there is a veranda off the second floor. It's going to be pretty warm out, so anyone who does wish to smoke, won't be stuck in the cold." I stopped for a moment, to take a sip of tea, then began to speak again. "Should any of you have access to a computer, lap-top or the like, we have plenty of space for at least one more, if not two. I've already got mine here. I think a group of us will probably head over to the liquor store just before supper to pick up some wine, and some alcohol. But we'll decide that later." I gave her directions to the NatPack Hostel and then hung up. I turned to the others, who had tracked down some of the other NatPackers and gave them similar instructions. "It seems we have things set. Anybody up for some music, while I start getting some of the lunches ready?" "Sure," Alora spoke up. "I'll stick in Tracy Chapman. There's a perfect Natalie song on it." "Give Me One Reason To Stay Here. I like that one. Too bad Natalie didn't follow up on it, when Nick was trying to walk out on her. Man, I wish I could do more than just hit him over the head with a frying pan," Mei said, exasperated. "Just wait til Sharon gets here. Then you can join in on the fun," Kelly called out from one of the rooms down the hall. "I think at this point, the majority of us want to get to knock Nick around for a while. Let him have a taste of his own medicine." She came out to the relatively comfortable living room. A short while later, Jennie, Jill, Amy, and Valerie arrived. Jamie would get here soon enough. The large kettle in the kitchen had come to a full boil and, the aroma from the coffee pot was strong and heady. On the counter was a mixture of individual flavoured tea bags, from which people could pick and choose. There was also milk, coffee cream, lemon slices, honey, and sugar. There were a number of mugs and cups on the counter next to the stove. The juices and bottled water was in the fridge. There were plenty of cold cuts, and various salads and sandwiches available for lunch. Once people had gathering their lunches, we congregated in the dining room, and began to talk business. ********************************************************************* KISS or is that Elton? By Arletta Asbury Nick&NatPackers Any Questions regarding timing and/or other problems should be directed to our Faction Leader, Laura MacMillan, at Time: Nighttime any night after the KISS impersonator posts. Kelly was asleep on the floor in one of the rooms at the N&NPacker Headquarters. Her rumpled hair spilled over the sleeping bag as she lay dreaming. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The setting is a sunny beach. In the background is a large expanse of water. In the foreground are two chaise lounges placed side by side, each has a large sun umbrella to protect its occupant from too much of the bright sunlight. Between the chaise lounges is a small table containing a couple of postcards, a small box of Italian pastries from Ferrara, a copy of the Aquarian Weekly, two large cups of cappuccino (one for each of them), and a CD/cassette player from which we can hear Elton John's voice singing "Can you feel the love tonight". The two occupants, Nick and Nat, are holding hands above the table and gazing at each other with love all too apparent on their faces. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Kelly smiled a very contented smile. ********************************************************************* A Brief Pause by: Cousin Candice date&time -Outside of war time She had a date. This wasn't good. And it wasn't even with her boyfriend. What would she do? He wanted to see a movie. She wanted coffee. They saw a movie. She pretended to be tired. She took him home. He left the tape in the car. She grinned. The night was waiting. She turned up the volume to an obscene level and drove. Miles and miles of unobstructed highway was paved out for her. She drove. She felt Cousin Candice coming to the front of her personality. She did 90 mph. She didn't care. She drove. She took a detour through the winding park road. The end theme from Mortal Kombat/Kids In America/Deep Forest Songs/Return to Innocence/Turning Japanese/One Vision played on loudly as she headed back home. It was 1:30 am. She turned on her computer. It was time to return..... ********************************************************************* A Good Dream by Catherine Boone DREAM SEQUENCE Ed. Note: This is an attack I wrote either before war 5 or right at the beginning of it. Either way, it's the first attack I ever wrote, and my favorite. It was written mere hours before the Ravenettes reclaimed the Raven, and I could never find a use for it since. Well, I finally found one, and went back to edit it to fit the story, but after I read it again, I just didn't have the heart to send the original to an anonymous electronic grave... so here it is, the "dream" that gave me the idea for the attack on the Raven. Why am I rambling? I dunno... thought *somebody* might find it interesting... - Catherine Oh.. and I have no idea why Lacroix was locked out of the Raven. It was a while ago, the details escape me. Lacroix stared coldly down at the trembling youngster, who stood anxiously awaiting his next words. In his most meanacing voice, he intoned, "Do you deliver?" The kid behind the counter muttered between chattering teeth, "Sure! Fine! Just let me get my coat, and we can go! Now will you please *shut* *the* *door*? It's freezing out there!" He ran into the back for a minute, then returned with an armful of lockpicks. "It'll be $20 an hour, though, at this time of night." Lacroix snarled at him, but he just shrugged. "Hey, man, it's not my fault ya got yerself locked outta yer own place. Ya wanna get in right now, ya gotta expect to pay through the nose for it. There's no gettin' around it. You're lucky we were even still open." Lacroix sneered, "Here's your money. It should pay for the next hour. Now let's go. It's almost dawn." He snatched up the lockpicks and swept dramatically out the door. In moments they were in the car,heading back for the Raven, cursing steadily in his mind all the way. It had taken him the enitre night to find a locksmith that was open, and he didn't have much time. He'd already put up his followers in a nearby hotel, but there was no way he was forking out the cash for them to spend two nights there. And now, as it was, he would be lucky not to catch the first morning rays before he was able to return to the sanctuary of the Raven. **Meanwhile, in the Raven...** (2:30 am) The group of Knighties, all crammed into one car, slowly drove past the Raven. It seemed to be deserted. The doors were closed, the street was deserted. Catherine pulled her picks out of her back pocket. "I'm going to go open the back door. You guys get the stuff out of the back and meet me there." As always, the back door had a fairly flimsy and easily opened lock. They cautiously scoped the place for people then, finding none, got down to work. (dawn) Catherine put the finishing touches on her flower, and called out over her shoulder. "Okay, guys, it's almost sunrise. Are we all done here? Susanne and Marcia have the cars running out back, so let's just pick up all our respective stuff and get the heck outta here. Hey, Paula, pick up those extra rolls and the glue, would you? Thanks. Marg, y'all got the music set up on infinite repeat? Great!" Everyone bustled around while Catherine beat down the lid on the last paint can. In mere minutes the place was cleaned out of Knighties and their equipment, leaving the Raven just as they had left it. Plus a few minor changes. Catherine grabbed her paint can, and took one last look at the new and improved Raven. (Someone who isn't playing this war) spoke up from behind her. "He's going to die when he finds out about this, you know." "Who, Nick or Lacroix?" "Both." "I believe it." Catherine found a evil grin spreading across her face. "It's beautiful. It's perfect." She turned to the other, standing at the top of the stairs, and dimpled. "Now aren't you glad you made it to Toronto just in time to join us?" (She) was taking in one last look of the room, and trying hard not to start chuckling. "I woudn't have missed this for the world." They pushed "play" on the stereo in the back room, turned up the volume, locked the door, and walked away. ** ** The Raven's front doors came open just as the first light of day fell. Lacroix quickly stepped inside and shut the door tightly against the coming day, glad he'd had the foresight to pay the wretch beforehand. But when he turned around, he nearly dived right back out into the morning. Slack-jawed, he inspected his newly-rewon home. The walls were now wallpapered with dancing bears, elephants with floppy hats, and baby chicks with sailor costumes. Where dark chains used to hang, now circled blockish plastic mobiles in bright red, yellow, and blue. The bar had been painted pastel pink and baby blue, with little yellow and white flowers on the side. And in the back, one could make out a lullaby wafting from the back door. The picture of comfort and content. Lacroix whimpered and hid his eyes from the sight. After a few moments of simple denial of his circumstance, he wearily decided that the only thing that could be done until sunset was to just find a good strong bottle of blood or ten, and go cower in a corner of the room and wait for it to be over. Besides, he'd been so busy getting those wretched bulbs, he hadn't had time to feed that night. Some blood would do him good. He sighed, and made his way to the wine cellar. He didn't even look at what he was getting, he just grabbed the nearest bottle and sat down to drink. At least no one had tried to redecorate in here, and you could almost drown out the music, if you shut the door behind you... He raised the bottle to his lips to pull the cork off and, to his astonishment, got a mouthful of rubber instead. He looked closer at the bottle he was holding, then at the others..Each and every bottle in the room had been carefully poured into large baby bottles, complete with rubber nipple and smiling pig on the side. His eyes glowed red, but not just from anger. He was starving, and there was no way he was going to be able to make it until sunset. Besides, the bar was closed, there was no one else around... so, with a grimace of extreme distaste, Lacroix tipped up the bottle, and started sucking. Nick, Perri, and Amy were waiting for the exhausted Knighties when they got home. Perri was not enthused. "Where have you been? I assumed you all would be here when we got back from the war conference..." They all ignored her, and rushed for the tv, giggling hysterically. "Plug it in! Plug it in!" "I got the tape!" But Perri grabbed Catherine's arm while she ran by. "You didn't. Just tell me you didn't! I *told* you guys not to do anything drastic while I was gone!" "Just watch. If, in five minutes, you're still mad, I'll be all ears." Catherine was wearing that ear-to-ear grin that Perri was coming to know meant big trouble. The setup was almost hooked in to Nick's tv. "Just watch." A very dim, yet recognizable image appeared on the screen. Lacroix, huddled on the floor, had something in his mouth, well, bigger than a baby's arm, and was making sucking noises. The Knighties all collapsed in shrieks of laughter, only pausing long enough to make sure they'd hit the "record" button on their remote feed. The look on Nick's face was indescribable. ********************************************************************* Hey, Hey, We're the Vampires by The Lurkers, Rastro and Maddog Part 1 of 3 Time: The moment before you opened this message Place: Another dimension, beyond time, space and the I.R.S. DISCLAIMER: No, this doesn't intefere with what horrific or non- horrific things that are going on right now in the War. In true Lurker fashion we've ignored the plot and simply captured the characters to be our toys for a short while and then we'll return them no worse for the wear. Why do we do it? Because it amuses us and we hope it will amuse you too. Here we come, flyin' down the street We get the funniest looks from Ev'ry one we eat Hey, hey, we're the Vampires And people say we fly around But we're too busy blood suckin' To put anybody down We're just tryin' to be friendly, Come and watch us floss our fangs We're the vampire generation, And we've got something to say **************************************** "Oi, Rastro," "Wot?" "It's that time of year again." "Time for you to change your underwear?" "No, time for us to kidnap people, make them wear horrid costumes and sing for us." "Must be the Forever Knight list war, " Rastro decided, as she hauled the Vegemite Teleportation kit from underneath the seat she was sitting at. It had been a marathon day of watching the "Sound of Music" and rewinding the good bits of Captain Von Trapp yelling. Then there had been the New York style cheese cake for breakfast followed by the Twizzler/Marshmallow neo-realistic sculpture eating contest. She should have known that Maddog would be feeling slightly buzzed from all that sugar. Well, there was only one thing to do. "So, who are we kidnapping first this time?" "Dunno, hey, pass the Ruffles, I feel the need for fat and salt," Maddog said, wiping the last of the Twizzler representation of the coming of the millennium from the left side of her face. "Here," Rastro handed over the bag, then a thought hit her, it hurt but she was very brave. "I've a clever idea." "A very clever idea?" "Yeah, wot if we mix the last of the Twizzlers with the vegemite and run the tesserect off of that." "You mean exchange the stable nuclear power source we've been using for some bizarre concotion of the two strangest foods we've got left in the hope that we'll be able to capture all the Forever Knight characters we wish to abuse in one tenth of a millisecond?" "Right." "Sounds good to me," Maddog agreed, she pulled out her bike helmet from her back pack and handed the extra one to her partner in lurking. "Think we may need extra protection this time." "Good idea," Rastro picked up the last Twizzler stick and slowly opened the jar of vegemite. The smell of the vegemite hit the room like a 18 wheeler going back and forth over a Care Bear until the guts squished out and the crows made out like women at a can of frosting. Maddog handed her the tesserect and she removed the stable nuclear power source and inserted the jar of twizzler Vegemite. "Hey, you got those things we collected the last time round?" "Right here," Maddog started pulling the items from her backpack and laying them out. "A lump of LaCroix's hair with a JuJu Bee in it -" "Don't remind me," said Rastro, thinking how LaCroix had nearly killed her during their first War when that Juju bee had hit him in the head. "- Nick's Batman boxers -" "That you've been sleeping in, yuk." Maddog ignored her, it wasn't hard, "- a silk stocking which we guess is Janette's -" "since we found it in Nick's underwear drawer," chortled Rastro. "Natalie's bubble gum card collection of Harrison Ford, and before you say anything I put back all the ones I'd borrowed!" said Maddog. "Yeah, like I believe you," muttered Rastro. "Is that what I think it is?" she pointed at a fur-like lump. "I stole a hairball, just in case we ever needed Sydney for anything," Maddog said. "Anyway, this is more gross," and she put Tracey's Kewpie doll on the table next to a leather G-string that Rastro knew belonged to Vachon but didn't want to think too hard about as she'd be forced to ask Maddog how she got it. Some images her brain just couldn't process. "Hope this vegemite works," muttered Rastro as she carefully pointed the tesseract at the table and activated the time and space bending device. KA-BOOOM (to be continued in part two) ********************************************************************* Hey, Hey, We're the Vampires by The Lurkers, Rastro and Maddog Part 2 of 3 Time: Two minutes after your time expired on the meter Place: A Non-Einsteinian frame of reference **************************************** KA-BOOOM The sound of space and time being bent to the capricious will of two women strung out of their minds on sugar, fat, salt and singing nuns filled the room. The fabric of the universe screamed in protest and the Twizzler/Vegemite enhanced tesserect crackled with power. One moment the room contained only two warped Forever Knight fans and then the next it contained those who would be their hapless playthings. "Cool, it worked," Rastro declared as she took off her the bicycle helmet. "I always said that the force binding the universe together was Twizzlers," Maddog added. "Hey there, everybody," she said as the new arrivals to the room turned to stare at their hosts. "Yeah, it's that time of year again and do we ever have something special planned this year." "I refuse to be part of any more of your depraved schemes," LaCroix declared forcefully, stepping towards to the Lurkers, as the memory of the split polyester pants from the Brady Bunch play he'd been forced to act in replayed itself over in his perfect vampiric memory. "Don't think I've forgotten the polyester or the Steve Austin debacle." "Well, you're really going to enjoy this and it won't take long, we'll return you to the list war a nanosecond before you left so you're not really gone and you're not going to miss any action. Maddog, hand out the costumes," Rastro instructed as she began to open up the box of props. "Exactly why should we cooperate with you?" Janette uttered the velveteen threat while taking a step forward. Maddog pulled out one of the vegemite-covered Twizzlers and held it out. The entire group of people moved several steps back. "That's why." She started to put the Twizzler back into the vegemite when a strange glow filled the jar. She shook her head trying to clear her vision and looked again. It was now once again an ordinary jar filled with something that greatly resembled Vaseline made of wet puppy chow. "Here you are," Rastro said handing out packages that contained costumes. Natalie opened hers and called out, "What is it with you people and your depraved desire to make us wear polyester? What's wrong with natural fibers?" "Because tight polyester pants outline a man's bum really well," Rastro informed her as she handed a guitar to Vachon. "I suppose I can understand that," Natalie agreed casting a hungry look over at the costume that Nick was holding up. "Are we going to be a band this time?" Vachon strummed the guitar thinking that this might not be so bad after all. "Yes, some of you, we're going to be doing a very condensed version of a story entitled "The Rescue of the Princess of the Duchy of Harmonica from her evil uncle the Archduke Otto"," Rastro explained. "Natalie, you're going to be the Princess and Tracey, you're going to be the evil uncle the Archduke Otto." "Why does she get to be the princess," Tracey complained as she looked at her outfit. "I mean, I'm..." "Younger, blonder and better looking?" Natalie Lambert asked, glaring at the detective. "Uh, no, that's not what I was going to say," Tracey stumbled over her words. "Um, never mind." "Nat's the princess because we like her better," Maddog explained. "As for the rest of you, Nick, you're going to be Peter. Vachon, you're going to be Mike. Janette you're going to be Mickey which leaves LaCroix as Davey." "Peter, Mike, Mickey and Davey," LaCroix repeated, realization washed over him with a sickening sensation. "We're going to be the Monkees!" (to be continued in part three) ********************************************************************* Hey, Hey, We're the Vampires by The Lurkers, Rastro and Maddog Part 3 of 3 Time: The second before the jerk in front of you cut you off this morning Place: Under your bed **************************************** "Monkeys?" said Janette. "I am NOT a monkey!" "No, not Monkeys with an 'ey', Monkees with an 'ee'", Maddog reassured her. "All you have to do is wear polyester and play this guitar." "Are you sure?" Janette was suspicious, after all, she had been duped by Lurkers before. "I can't wear this!" Vachon protested, holding up the multi-colored shirt he was supposed to put on. "I only do grunge rock. Look at my hair! Besides, I HATE Monkee music. I spent the 70s as a roadie for the Grateful Dead!" "That explains a lot," muttered LaCroix, "I always knew you were a dead head." The master vampire had planted himself in the middle of the floor and was staging a sit-in. He glared up at the two Lurkers. "I will not wear polyester. There is nothing you can say, and nothing you can do." He smiled nastily, "and I've been spending the last six months building up my exposure to Vegemite. I'm sure I can stand it long enough to rip both your throats out." Both Lurkers took a step back. Into Nick, who so far had not said a word, but just stared at the drum set in the corner. Suddenly he fell to the ground in front of LaCroix. "Please, please, LaCroix! I've always wanted to be a Monkee!! I LOVE their music. I want to play the drums!! Please, please, put on the polyester!! For me, please!!" Maybe it was Nick's heartfelt pleas, maybe LaCroix didn't really want to find out if his vegemite tolerance would hold, maybe deep down inside he really wanted to bang on a tambourine, maybe he did harbor a secret desire to wear tight polyester pants. Whatever the reason, after a hasty rehearsal and much groaning on the part of Vachon and Janette, the assembled vampire Monkees were ready. Soon they were heard to play: Here we come, flyin' down the street We get the funniest looks from Ev'ry one we eat hey, hey, we're the Vampires And people say we fly around But we're too busy blood suckin' To put anybody down We're just tryin' to be friendly, Come and watch us floss our fangs We're the vampire generation, And we've got something to say Natalie was sitting next to the Lurkers who were busy videotaping the rehearsal session. She had to admit that Nick banged on the drums quite well especially while clad in a very tight shirt. Popping another Godiva chocolate in her mouth she reflected that things weren't going that badly although LaCroix had broken six tambourines already. She glanced over at Tracey who was making doe eyes at Vachon. /Good luck girlie/, she thought as she picked up another chocolate, /that vampire will just string you along until those thighs of yours explode and your head detonates from all the angst/. "Stop," LaCroix shouted. "I can not stand another minute of this inane song. I think we're practiced sufficiently enough to perform this show of yours." He glared over at the Lurkers who had popped open tubs of Ben and Jerry's chocolate chip cookie dough ice-cream as soon as he had started to yell. Rastro and Maddog looked at each other, weighing the decision and their chances for survival. The red-headed Lurker pulled the spoon out of her mouth, "Oi, all right. We'll make this quick. Nat, Tracey, take your marks," she turned to Maddog, "You'd better get the big jar of vegemite and the tesserect. You know how pissy LaCroix gets at the end of these things." "Okey-dokey," Maddog stood up and walked over to get the supplies. Slipping the tesserect into her vest pocket she had just started to pick up the econo-size jar of vegemite when it moved. Puzzled, she reached out again to pick up the jar when it began to jiggle back and forth. Then it stopped. Maddog considered the matter. /I must be over-sugared again/, she though, /or over-caffeinated, or both or maybe I'm just over-fantasized what with Nick and LaCroix being around and thinking about Nick's chest and then thinking about LaCroix's and then LaCroix glaring which is always just so, so fulfilling and then there's eating ice cream and looking at them especially when I get a chocolate chip and somebody yells. And I'd better stop babbling to myself or I'll miss something good, maybe LaCroix's pants will split again/, she decided as she picked up the now quiet jar. Everyone had assembled on the make believe stage. Natalie, with a funky cone princess hat on her head and Tracey, with a funky monocle on her eye, were facing each other. "I won't marry that evil person," Natalie announced. "Yes, you vill," Tracey said as menacingly as she could muster which was about as menacing as a Care Bear with rabies. "I, your evil uncle the Archduke Otto, command it." "Never!" Natalie shouted, tearing the cone hat off her head and whacking Tracey with it. Tracey had only a second to look surprised before she dropped stunned to the floor. There was nothing in the script about the evil uncle Archduke Otto being whacked on the head by the Princess. Said Princess looked down at her felled opponent for a moment, whacked her again with the hat and escaped through the mock window in the middle of the stage. Nick was waiting on the other side. He peered through the 'window' at Tracey. "What did you do that for?" Natalie shrugged. "Haven't you always wanted to do that? Besides, I didn't think the script had enough action, so I thought I'd improvise. On with the story!" "Okay." Nick shrugged, Natalie had a point. "Hi, I'm Peter. My band's playing in town, do you need help?" "Do I ever. I'm the Princess of the Duchy of Harmonica and I've got an evil uncle," Natalie explained, taking his hand and leading him across to the other side of the stage where the rest of the undead Monkee types were. "Hey guys, look, I found a damsel in distress!" "Oh, no! What's wrong, princess?" LaCroix said in the most ingenuous voice he could muster, at the same time wondering if his immunity to vegemite would carry him through the 3.7 seconds it would take to rip the throats out of both the annoying Lurkers. Though he had to admit that the wine-colored polyester shirt they'd picked out for him to wear was actually not that bad. He wondered if they'd let him keep it. Then he decided that the polyester cling and the omnipresent scent of vegemite was affecting his brain, and that Plan A - Kill the Lurkers, was definitely the way to go. "How can we help?" Janette added, "Maybe I could draw some pictures." She picked up a marker and started sketching on the wall. It didn't take long for Maddog, a connoisseur of perversion, to figure out what she was drawing. "I don't think that's suitable for children's programming," commented the Lurker, taking the marker away from the pouting vampire. "Though it is very original," she added. "Wot? Wot?" wailed Rastro, staring at the scribble on the wall and wondering why both Nick and LaCroix had turned nice shades of pink. "I think we need to get back to the script!" Nick hurriedly interjected before Janette could start interpreting her artwork for the unsophisticated Lurker. "Yes, maybe we could sing another song that does nothing to advance the plot and then run around a lot," Vachon said. "Hey," he said, looking over at the directors, "Did you two know this play bears no resemblance to the original show "The Rescue of the Princess of the Duchy of Harmonica from her evil uncle the Archduke Otto"?" "And how would you know that?" LaCroix sneered, "I thought you said you hated the Monkees." "Uh," Vachon mumbled, "let's just get it over with." He'd just noticed Tracey was waking up. He wanted to show her the artwork. Maybe she'd get some ideas. Tracey appeared on the stage and they proceeded to chase each other around in a random fashion for several minutes while a medley of Monkee tunes were played. Then they stopped and picked up their instruments which made no sense to advance the plot but it seemed the thing to do. "And a one and a two," Janette called out as the group was about to launch into a rendition of "Take the Last Train to Deadsville". The group never got past the opening bars of the song when the econo- size jar of vegemite burst forth from its glassy confines. "Oh, shit," the entire group thought, "who knew vegemite hated Monkee songs." The huge, brownish blob towered above them and the smell was unimaginably horrific for most of them although Rastro wished she had some toast because it was making her a bit hungry. Before the blob could devour them, Maddog activated the tesserect in her vest pocket. Space and time inverted upon itself and performed a very nice point to set mapping function that deposited Nick, Janette, Vachon, LaCroix, Tracey and Natalie back to where they had been in the war before the Lurkers had taken them outside the universe. The Lurkers, however, found themselves in a very lavishly appointed bathroom. "Oi, where are we?" Rastro asked, looking around. It was a very nice big bathroom. "Oi, there's somebody in the shower," Maddog said, trying to see who it was, unfortunately she slipped on the steamy tiles and fell forward. Trying to save herself from going splat she reached out and grabbed the shower curtain. It pulled open to reveal a very naked Nick. "Bobby," a woman's voice, Natalie's as it turned out, gasped. She entered the bathroom and stared at Nick. "Mornin' Pam," Nick smiled. "Pam, Bobby, shower," the Lurkers mumbled at each other and then locked eyes. "We're stuck in Dallas!" they screamed in unision. THE END ********************************************************************* I'm Not That Cruel, Really Takes place during "A Nice Friendly Game of Cards" The Raven by Mei Kwong & Linda Pierce Mei shifted uncomfortably in her chair. It was very weird that Linda happen to win every single game of poker that they were playing. True, she didn't know everything about Linda, but she didn't have her pegged as a card shark either. She looked thoughtfully at Carrie. If there was a card shark, she would suspect sweet Carrie K. just by the way she was shuffling the deck. Linda, however, seemed blissfully unawares, savoring each win. Linda was astonished at her luck tonight. Too bad they weren't playing for more than just pennies. She put her cards in order and frowned she was going to have to get Nick's stolen PJs into the pot somehow. Or at least one of the pairs she had arranged to have stolen from Dotti. She grinned to herself. She looked at the pot before her, but her eyes were suddenly drawn to the candle on the table. She began to reach out for it, but felt a stinging slap on her hand. "Stop that!" Mei said as she tried to control her friend's unnatural urge to play with fire. She sighed and looked up and saw her fellow Natpacker Alora with Nick&Natpackers Melaine and Laura. Eagerly, she waved them over to the table. All these Knighties around her and Linda began make her uncomfortable. "What's up guys? Alora asked curiously. "Poker." Carrie replied in a business like tone as she dealt out some cards. "Wanna play?" "Count me in," Alora chimed as she sat in a chair vacated by a Knightie. Melaine also joined in, but Laura opted to sit out and watch. "What do you think they're talking about?" Laura asked as she jerked her head in the direction of the door Nick and Natalie had gone through. "I don't know," Dotti grunted as she studied her cards with all the intensity of a hardened gambler, "But I do know one thing, those two are the most unpredictable, illogical pair of lovers since Romeo and Juliet." "Well, Juliet had more of a choice than Nat," Alora muttered. "What did you say?" Dotti flashed. "Whoa, whoa," Melaine said, making a time out motion with her hands. "No more sniping and saying who's wrong and who's right. We're here to have fun. So, let's have fun." "Yeah, and to make this next hand interesting, let's sweeten the pot a little." Linda pulled out a pair of black silk pajamas and laid them on the table. A collective "oooohhhh" went up from her audience as she leaned back in her chair, a smirk on her face. "You know," Carrie said with a frown as she played with the material, "These look like Nick's." Dotti flashed Linda a suspicious look. They did look like Nick's. As a matter of fact, they looked like the pair that she had initially taken, only to have them stolen. Hmmmm. If she won this pair, she would have TWO pairs that had clung to his perfectly sculpted body. The shirt that pressed against his muscular chest. The pants that covered-. Dotti shook her head. "Bit warm in here isn't it?" "I want those so I can burn something belonging to the bozo," Alora said under her breath. Suddenly, her eyes spotted the candle on the table. "See the pretty flame," she crooned. Her hand reached for it, only to have Mei slap it away. "Will you stop that!" Mei said in exasperation. She had been assigned to keep Linda away from fire, but it now looks like she would have to babysit Alora too. The others refused to let her blow the candle out because it was too dark in the Raven. Sighing, she decided just to more the candle next to her. Alora and Linda looked at her reproachfully when she did this. Mei's mouth set in a stubborn grimace. This particular hand began to get heated. After a venomous glance from Dotti, Carrie decided she would forgo her original plan and let at least one hand be won by someone else. "I won! I won! Mine! Mine! Mine!" Dotti yelled as she won back the pajamas. Mei frowned and looked at Linda. She knew that Linda still had one more pair of Nick's pajamas. She made a mental note not to be around her fellow Natpacker when Dotti came after her for the second pair. Mei got up and gave her seat to Heather of the Nick&Natpackers who had joined their happy group. Laura wandered over to Heather after Melaine gave her a reproachful look, blaming her for losing that last hand. Maybe Heather would appreciate her advice more, Laura thought. Afterall, if Melaine knew she had a full house, why did she listen to her? Mei began to chat with both Sorcha and TJ. She absently looked around at the other party goers. Although this was her first war, she knew this was what it was all about. Friends together, having a good time. It was nice to be with such great people. ********************************************************************* End War 7 File 11 *********************************************************************