Many thanks to our betareaders, Wendy (a.k.a. Gwenky on IRC) and Kim
Colley. Kim and I are the only ones who have seen the movie. None of us
have even seen the series, so forgive us if there are glaring inconsistencies.
Any flames will be kept in storage for those cold winter nights.
Part One
"...Now, my children, it is that time of night. You need to speak,
confess all to me. Your unpardonable sins, your secret desires, everything.
Because I am the Nightcrawler and I *can* grant you absolution from those
sins that keep you up at night. Many so-called experts say that confessing
to others can help us all. And I can help so much more than your Dr. Quack
ever could." LaCroix smiled slowly, savoring these moments. "Without
further ado I'd like to bring forth my first caller. Bonsoir, my dear,
how may I help you?"
There was nothing but silence on the phone.
LaCroix raised his glass to his lips. After a sip, he lowered the glass.
He was about to hang up on the caller and move on when he heard an annoying
voice say his name. He nearly choked when he heard the grating voice.
"LaCroix," said the squeaky voice. "I know what you are."
LaCroix couldn't help chortling. "Oh, do you?" he asked.
"You are a godless, hateful creep and I'm coming for you!"
By this time LaCroix was laughing so hard he had to wipe away a tear
from his eye. He didn't even notice when the engineer had hung up on his
caller.
Buffy stared angrily at the phone in her hand.
"Oh dear," murmured LaCroix, after regaining his composure.
"I suppose I should be rather worried."
He moved on to his next caller.
* * *
(Later that evening)
"Nick there's a call for you." Schanke handed Nick the phone
on his desk.
"Nick Knight,"
Nick heard nothing but silence. He was about to ask Schanke if he was
kidding around when he heard.
"Nicholas de Brabant."
"Who is this?" asked Nick. "What do you want?"
"I know who you really are, Nick. I have a stake with your name
on it, Nick."
Nick hung up the phone.
"So what was that about?" asked Schanke.
"Uh, nothing," Nick scratched his chin nervously. "Uhm
I need to go run some errands, Schanke. Can you cover for me for about
an hour or so?"
"Sure," said Schanke. He watched Nick walk out the door and
right past Nat.
"Schanke, what's Nick's problem? He barely said two words to me,"
asked Natalie as she sat on the edge of his desk.
"Beats the hell out of me," said Schanke. "He got some
phone call, turned white and high-tailed it out of here."
* * *
Nick wandered into the Raven, with a worried look on his face. He walked
straight to the bar.
"Nicholas," LaCroix looked up from his drink. "I take
it you are here on some business for the police."
"No, LaCroix, I'm here..."
LaCroix noted the worried look in his son's eyes, and unintentionally
interrupted Nick. "You look as though you've seen a ghost." He
offered Nick a glass and Nick took it.
"Someone called me at the station."
"I see," said LaCroix. "I thought that happened quite
a bit there."
"No," sighed Nick, angrily. "She called me, Nicholas
de Brabant and said she had a stake with my name on it."
"Oh, Nicholas," chortled LaCroix. "I received a call
like that a few hours ago. Some squeaky voiced little girl told me I was
a hateful creep. You don't see me worried about that now do..."
* * *
(Meanwhile, in Janette's office)
Janette was picking up some papers and extra glassware from the office
when the phone rang.
She sighed and picked up the phone.
"Allo?"
"Hello, Janette."
"Oui," said Janette, impatiently. Her customers were getting
louder.
"I know what you are, Janette."
"I see," said Janette, unimpressed. "and that would be?"
"A vampire," continued Buffy.
Janette sighed. "This conversation is getting old and tiresome,"
she said.
"Hey, I'm NOT done yet," screeched Buffy, angrily.
"I've seen your outfits! All I can say is eeeew! Didn't you know
all-black evening wear went out of style in the 1600's, you old hag. And
your hair! I've seen better looking beehives on a tree! Certainly with
a lot less sting than that hair of yours, Janette. And I've heard better
fake French accents in 'Hogan's Heroes'.
Janette was so stunned by this girl's impertinence, she could do nothing
but stammer. She was tongue-tied. Buffy continued, "Perhaps, dunking
your hair in bleach could be an improvement. Then again, maybe not. By
the way, I have a stake with your name on it, and it's quite well done.
Adieu." Buffy hung up.
Janette was fuming. One of the bartenders walked by her to ask a question
and she growled. He jumped away.
* * *
LaCroix was interrupted as Janette walked up to them grumbling.
"You two cannot imagine the phone call I just received!" she
griped. I've just been threatened by some annoying child!"
"We've both received similar phone calls," commented Nick.
"But LaCroix isn't worried at all," he said angrily.
"Nicholas, I thought you believed you deserved death," LaCroix
smiled coldly. Nick continued to appear worried.
"Don't worry, Nicola," replied Janette. "We can take
care of this little problem."
"Yes, we can," added LaCroix as he put his hand on Janette's
shoulder.
Nick nodded his head. He felt a tinge of remorse for the foolish mortal
who began this business. However, she should have known better. He was
even more suprised that LaCroix did not insist he join them. The words
seemed difficult to say but he made a stab at them anyway.
"Thank you," he said. Nick picked up his coat and began walking
toward the front door.
* * *
Janette stared at LaCroix, somewhat bewildered. "I thought you
would insist on Nicola's participation," she stated.
"You know Nicholas," said LaCroix. "It will be much easier
to take care of this insignificant mortal without his help."
LaCroix leaned in closer to his daughter and murmured in a conspiratorial
tone, "So what do you suggest we do to this mortal? Kill her of course,
but how?"
"Actually, LaCroix, I had another plan in mind. Killing this mortal
would be too shamefully easy. Humiliation is sometimes the best form of
revenge."
LaCroix became silent for a moment. Janette said nothing, realizing
that he was merely thinking over his options.
"There is another point to consider," he said.
"What is that?"
"Her job is to protect humankind from all creatures of the night.
By allowing her to survive, she could continue protecting our community
from those other creatures that seek to harm us, especially those on the
fringes of our community."
"Yes," said Janette. "He will allow her to survive because
it will ultimately protect Nicola," she thought to herself. She was
still curious as to what creatures LaCroix was referring to, but decided
not to pursue this line of questioning. Janette became silent once more,
awaiting LaCroix's decision.
LaCroix turned away from his drink to face her again. "All right,
Janette," he said. "However, I do wish to help in some way."
Janette rubbed her hands together, thinking gleefully about what forms
of revenge she could take out on that girl.
The phone rang again and Janette and LaCroix looked at each and raced
for the phone.
"Allo?" said Janette as LaCroix moved in closer to the phone.
"I know what you are, Janette," began the same annoying voice
on the phone.
All Buffy could hear was a clunking noise as the telephone receiver
hit the countertop. She shrugged thinking that Janette had hung up again.
Buffy was just suprised that she did not hear Janette cursing anymore.
She glanced at the phone book from her small hotel room. It was spring
break and Buffy had decided to go shopping in Toronto. After all she had
a tanning bed back home. Buffy decided she needed to be on her own for
a bit. To prove to herself that she could do her job on her own. She found
the phone number for Don Schanke and was about to dial it. The poor man
had been working with a vampire for years and now the truth could come
out.
The world became black for Buffy.
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