Anything Goes 1/4

By Spike Shovelton

This is a silly little nothing inspired by all those adverts for
fund-raising activities, sponsored bungee jumping etc.  Any serious plot
elements are a complete accident.  Forever Knight and all people, ideas and
locations associated therewith are the property of Messrs Slan and Parriot
and Sony/Tristar.  The songs "All through the night" and "love for sale" are
both by Cole Porter and no infringement of his rights, or those of the
copyright holders are intended.  This story is mine and I claim copyright to
it.  Spoilers for "Amateur Night."
Archive permission given to Mel for the fkfanfic archive.  Anyone else who
wants to archive it is welcome to it but please ask first and leave my name
and the disclaimer attached.  Thanks go out to Cousin Mary for beta reading
this, and for not minding that we both had a similar idea.  I would welcome
feedback but not flames.

Anything Goes 1/4

By Spike Shovelton

Tracy had a bad feeling about this.  Her and her big mouth.  She sighed as
she looked around the Raven, wondering how she could have got herself
involved in something so silly.  Squaring her shoulders she walked over to
the bar and caught the bartender's attention.

"Miklos, is this where you sign up for amateur night?"  Miklos wondered for
a moment what Vachon's mortal pet was doing asking that question.

"You want to sign up for amateur night, Ms Vetter?"  He had seen her in here
on a couple of occasions to meet the Spaniard.  She had always bought him a
drink and was pleasant.  Knight had warned people to stay away from her.
Most of the vampires admired how Vachon could manage to keep both her and
Urs running around him.

"We're trying to make money for charity.  Everyone sponsored me to take my
clothes off in front of people."  She explained and he nodded.  He had a
hard time imagining that.  He studied her and smiled suddenly as he looked
her over, then again perhaps he could imagine it.  She had a good figure
under that smart suit.  "Yeah, I think they weren't expecting me to.  My
partner agreed to let people drive his caddy if they gave money to charity.
It was so funny to see him walking on eggshells.  We wanted him to take his
clothes off too, but he wouldn't.  Nick and I have a bet going on who's
going to make the most money."

"I see."  He had to see this.  "Have you chosen some music?"

"I've been working on it."  She responded and held out a cassette.  Tracy
looked around carefully.  Nobody she knew.  "Vachon in tonight?"  Miklos
shook his head.  Tracy felt a mixture of disappointment and relief at the
news.  He would tease her, but a part of her had wanted to show Vachon that
Urs was not the only one who looked good naked.  Another part of her wanted
to run a mile.

"I'll take you through."  He said, good thing Vachon and Urs were away on
holiday.  He wondered if she knew about that.  "Have you got some clothes?"
He looked at her smart suit.  "Are you going to wear that?"

"No, I came straight from work."  She explained.  She held out a bag and a
suit bag and smiled.  "When do I go on?"

"You'll be fourth one up."  He said quickly.  "One of the waitresses will
tell you."

"I'll need you to sign to prove I've done it."  She said and he nodded.
"Great, well then, I'd better get ready."

Miklos went around to the floor to serve some drinks.  This was going to be
interesting.  He would not have expected the little Vetter to have the nerve
to do it.  That was probably how she got so much sponsorship.  People
weren't expecting it so they were willing to pay more.  This was going to
create some gossip in the community.  He wondered if Knight knew about this.
  It was not his business.  The first woman was on, stripping to a quick
rock song.

"Miklos could we not attract some quality in the acts?"  Lacroix came over
quickly, a look of distaste on his face as they stood in front of the stage.
  "None of these have any style."

"You get what you get."  A grin crossed his face.  "I think you'll like

number four."  Vachon should be here for this.  Miklos decided as he poured
drinks.  If the Spaniard was not careful then his pet might find a new
snitch.

They waited and before the fourth candidate the compere smiled.  "Next one
is rather special, in aid of a fund for research into cancer and support for
its victims.  If you like what you see then given generously to Miklos to
support it."

The music that emerged over the speakers was slow and twenties, rather than
the fast, rock style of the previous songs.  The lights went onto the stage
to reveal a slender blonde in a twenties dress, gleaming gold, with a skirt
of the characteristically long individual fronds of material and a very
short over jacket.  She was looking away as the music began and the
instantly recognisable voice of Ella Fitzgerald began to sing.

"The day is my enemy
The night my friend
For I'm always so alone
Till the day draws to an end.

She began to remove the small jacket and let it fall.  In contrast to the
others she moved with a slow, easy grace.  Miklos hid a smile, this was
certainly different.

But when the sun goes down
And the moon looks through
To the monotone of the evenings groan
I'm all alone, with you.

She slid the straps of the dress over her shoulders and down to her wrists
before reaching for the zip.  Then she walked towards where the bartender
stood with someone else, just at the edge of the stage and leaned over,
reaching for Miklos's hand.

All through the night
I delight in your love
All through the night,
You're so close to me

"Age before beauty."  Lacroix murmured in Magyar.   Miklos watched as he
moved in, catching her hand.  For a moment she turned with surprise and then
Miklos saw her whispering.  "Unzip me."  He obeyed and she moved away,
letting the dress fall to her ankles.

All through the night,
From a high far above
You and your love, brings me ecstasy

She was revealed to be wearing glimmering stockings, shot with the same gold
as the dress, and a very short cream petticoat, falling to mid thigh.  She
kicked off her shoes and rolled down the stockings one at a time.  The room
was silent and all eyes were on the stage.  The song was provocative to sing
in a room full of vampires.

When dawn comes to waken me,
You're never there at all
I know you've forsaken me
Till the shadows fall

She reached under the slip and undid the suspender belt and let it fall,
then she unfastened her bra.  Without removing the petticoat she pulled the
bra off and let it fall.  She did not throw things into the crowd, she did
not even seem aware of being watched.

But then, once again
I can dream, I've the right
To be close to you
All through the night

As the song finished she slid the straps over her shoulders and let the
petticoat fall.  For a moment she stood there, skin shining cream in the
spotlights.  Somehow she seemed to glow with gold.  There was silence as
people took in the vision on the stage.  Then the lights fell and when they
went back up there was a rush of applause.  She did not return for a curtain
call, seeming to have vanished.

"Miklos, who was that?"  Lacroix asked.  He was not the only one asking that
question.  "Did she know what she was singing?"

"Cole Porter?"  Miklos said.  He had to admire her nerve.  He had seldom
seen a less sordid strip act.  She had won hands down, she had a natural
grace, but it was not the usual act.  He turned but Lacroix was gone and he
was surrounded by people giving him money for the cancer fund.

Tracy smiled as she brushed her hair.  "Never thought I could do that.  Next
time I wear something without a zip."  She looked at the gold powder coming
off her skin.  "Bet I make more money than anyone else."  She had dressed
again in black trousers and a dark pink top.  "Just wish he'd been there to
get the hint."  She smiled.  "I can't believe I did that."  She said again
as she finished dressing.  "I need a drink."

She went out into the club and was surrounded by people, all of them
chatting to her.  Miklos introduced some of them to her and many of them
bought her drinks.  One of them was quite old looking, and called himself
Aristotle, rather fussy and prickly but as he left he had given her $300 for
the fund.  Another was a younger, more handsome man called Felicks, and a
third was a woman called Alma.  All of them seemed to enjoy her act and she
had quite a few contributions to the charity. The fund helped with research
into cancer and provided care for those with it, arranging nursing and
counselling, and sometimes helping the family of the ones with cancer.  As
she talked she was unaware of the eyes watching her from the back of the
room.

End Part One


Anything Goes 2/4

By Spike Shovelton

See Part One for disclaimer.

Tracy smiled as she went to the officer in charge of fund raising.  "Here is
my contribution."  She handed it over and rubbed her hands.  She was going
to enjoy collecting on her bet with Nick.

"Wonderful."  Captain Irene Farmer smiled at Tracy.  Irene was a slender
redhead with a good sense of humour and intelligent eyes.  "I can't believe
you did it."

"Neither can I."  Tracy admitted.  "It wasn't too bad, I mean I tried not to
think of the audience.  I don't think I'd ever do it again, but I managed."
She had rather hoped that Vachon would see it.  Still she had made a few
friends that evening.  "I thought I'd die of embarrassment."

"I think I probably would, but very well done.  You made a lot of money."
Irene smiled at this.  "It will help a lot of people."  Irene had lost her
husband to cancer four years ago.  She had managed to cope, but she still
worked for those who could not.

"That's good.  How much did my partner get?"  She had to know this.  She
also wanted to know if the caddy, and Nick's nerves, had survived the
occasion.

"A little more than you."  Tracy looked crestfallen.  "What's up?"

"Nick and I had a bet on.  He said that people would pay more to drive his
caddy than to see me naked."  Tracy sighed heavily.  "I will never live this
down."  She looked gloomy.  "Plus I am going to have to do all the
paperwork."

"Never mind, yours is very good."  Irene paused and answered the telephone.
"Farmer.  Yes that's right.  Really, I see.  I don't think that would be
possible."  Her voice was chillingly frosty.  "Inconceivable, absolutely
inconceivable.  No not even if you, how much?  No."  Irene sounded shaken.
"Out of the question."

Tracy listened to this with interest.  It could be a source of gossip.  She
saw the other woman looking at her.

"I could ask but I think it is extremely unlikely."  She said quickly.
"What is your number?  Fine then fifteen minutes."

Once he had gone she looked at Tracy again.  "Well what is it Captain?"
Tracy liked Irene Farmer.  The uniformed cop had mentored her when Tracy had
just joined, and had helped her survive in what was still a male dominated
environment.

"I don't believe it.  Someone who saw you last night is offering five
thousand bucks if you will give him a private showing."  Irene said quickly
and saw Tracy shake her head.

"Did he give a name?"  Tracy wondered if it was someone with whom she had
talked with the previous evening.

"Said he owned the Raven, sounded familiar somehow.  Apparently he liked
your show and wants a private version."  Irene shook her head.  "I told him
that it was impossible."

"Yeah."  Tracy paused, owned the Raven.  "Did he give a name?  Was it Miklos
Nashkady?"

"No, it was Lacroix.  Why?"  Tracy had always assumed that the Hungarian
vampire owned the Raven.  Possibly not, but she was not so foolish.  None of
the people she had talked with the previous evening had given that name.
Then again money was money. She thought of some of the people she had known
with cancer.  The fund could use the money.  No she was mad to even consider
agreeing to this.  She thought of Nick's laughter that he had made more with
his car than she had by stripping.

"Just wondering.  Can I use your computer?"  She logged in and began pulling
the deeds on the Raven, seeing the certificate of sale from a Janette
Ducharme to Lucien Lacroix.  She then called the licensing committee to
check on that.  Once she had hung up Irene turned to her.  "You're going to
do it?  Tracy it's not worth it to make more than your partner.  Especially
if you don't know anything about him."

"They deserve a cure, or help or something."  Tracy said quickly.  She knew
that if she didn't then she would wonder what the money might have done.
"Tell him ten thousand, and he can look but not touch.  If he tells anyone
then I'll have the Raven closed so hard his feet won't touch the ground."
She did want to win her bet with Nick.  She was, for one thing, sick of the
way he seemed to think she was a little innocent in need of protecting.

"Right."  Irene looked at Tracy.  "You are going to do it?"

"Think of the children.  Think what the money could do for them.  I wouldn't
be able to look at myself in the mirror if I backed out on this.  I've done
it before, after all.  I'll need to find some new music though."  She smiled
suddenly as the telephone rang.  "I'll let you know when I am doing it, and
if my body winds up with a concrete overcoat the next day then you know who
to arrest."

"You do that."  Irene smiled at Tracy.  "I appreciate that you care enough
for the sufferers of cancer to do it, but you don't need to feel compelled.
I wouldn't mind, nobody would mind your refusing."

"I know, but I need to help, Captain."  Tracy said quickly.  "It doesn't
really make that much difference.  If I can do it in front of a packed
nightclub I can do it for one person."

The telephone rang and Irene answered it.  "Farmer."  She paused.  "Yes,
I've asked her, ten thousand, in advance."  She said quickly.  "You aren't
to touch her, you aren't to give her any trouble, or I close the Raven and
book you so fast you won't know what has happened.  You tell this to a soul
and you will severely regret it."  There was a chuckle and Irene listened as
he agreed.  "Hold on."  She pressed the mute button.  "He wants to confirm
with you."

"Okay."  Tracy walked over and took the phone.  "Vetter."  She answered,
forcing her voice to remain calm as she pressed the mute button again to
bring him back.

"I see you have agreed to my suggestion."  The voice was eerily familiar.
"I am delighted that you agree to perform."

"I want the money before anything else."  Tracy said quickly.  "Ten thousand
payable to The Toronto Cancer Campaign and sent to Captain Irene Farmer at
the police station."

"Certainly."  His tone was amused.  "Do you want your clothes back?"

"No, I'll have something else."  She said quickly.  "Why though?  Are you
some kind of pervert?"

He laughed at this.  "Hardly, call it a whim.  I can afford to indulge my
whims.  I have seen amateur night many times but never such style and
panache.  I know that if I do not pay then I would be very unlikely to get a
repeat performance."

"You got that right."  Tracy responded.  "Can't you get the dancers to do
it?"

"None of them have quite your style, your pride.  You danced as though the
audience did not matter, such beauty, such agility.  It is rare and
appealing."  His voice was amused.  "I will pay the money tomorrow, so shall
we say Thursday?  That is your day off?"

"That's right."  Tracy said quickly.

"I will send the car for you."  He said equally quickly.

"No I don t think so.  You tell me where.  That way if I wind up with my
throat cut we know whom to hunt down."  She said and Irene smiled.  "I want
to know where."

"Very well then.  The Raven is a little busy.  I have a house in the
suburbs."  He gave her the address and she wrote it down.  "Be there around
eight."

"Sure."  Tracy said and sighed deeply.  "Do you want the same routine?"

"I leave that up to you."  He responded and smiled.  "I consider this an
investment, at my age there is so little to surprise me in life that I can
afford to indulge in those things that do."

"Right, whatever.  I'll be there at eight."  She said and wondered why she
was doing this.

"I would rather you did not have your police friends bugging the place.  I
give you my word that I will not kill you."  He said, sounding amused by all
of this.

"Fine, I won't send the squad around."  Tracy said, her voice a little edgy.

Once the conversation was over she shook her head.  "I can't believe I did
that."

"You won't quit on a challenge will you?"  Irene said and looked at the
other woman.  "Well done though, and if he gives you any trouble let us
know."

"Right."  Tracy smiled as she thought.  "I'll need a new song to use."  She
started to think for a moment.  "Not to mention a new theme and costume."

"What did you use before, Madonna?"  Irene asked.

"No Cole Porter.  I wasn't even trying to be seductive.  Every time I try to
be a vamp it fails miserably."  Tracy smiled.  "Natural is obviously in."

"How about something similar then."  Irene suggested.

"No, I do have an idea."  Tracy responded and smiled.  "A perfect idea in
fact."

"Tell all."  Irene said and Tracy shook her head.  "Just a hint?"

"Prostitution."  Tracy said quickly as she left the office.  Irene watched
her go and shook her head.  This was getting interesting.  She sighed, if
Tracy got in trouble over this then the man would not survive.  Irene would
see to that.

End Part Two


Anything Goes 3/4

By Spike Shovelton

See Part One for disclaimer.


As she knocked on the door of the large detached house in one of the high
class suburbs of Toronto she sighed.  They could make a film out of this.
She smiled as she waited, and wondered if this was such a good idea.  The
door opened and she looked into the hall.

"Ms Vetter, please come inside."  Came a soft voice and she turned to see
the man who had helped her with her zip.  "Thank you for coming.  I am
Lucien Lacroix."  Tracy studied him with interest, taking in the pale skin
and startlingly blue eyes.  She had worked out why his voice was so
familiar.  So this was the Nightcrawler in person.

"A pleasure to meet you."  Tracy said, wondering if she had lost her senses.
  He had paid the money and the cheque had cleared, she had waited for that
and it had gone through.  "I want to check that you aren't filming this to
ruin my career."

"Of course.  Have a look around and decide where you wish to perform then I
will show you to one of the bedrooms to allow you to prepare yourself."  He
studied her and smiled.  "You are even more attractive in close up, so much
life, so much fire."

Tracy shivered.  His voice was pretty attractive.   She remembered how he
had helped her with her zip.  She had gone to Miklos, needing help with her
dress and because she knew that the Hungarian would do it.  She had not
expected this stranger to help her.  His hands were so cold, even if she had
not known he was a vampire she would have guessed it.  No mortal had such
old eyes, or such pale skin.  His eyes were very pale, like pieces of a
winter sky.

"Thanks, I think."  Tracy poked around the house and settled on the study,
the walls filled with books, the leather chair and wooden desk.  The room
had a timeless elegance that clashed a little with the computer, fax machine
and modem on the desk.  "Here then."  She checked for hidden cameras and he
watched as she used the technology that she had brought with her.

"How completely suspicious of you."  His tone held approval.  "You do not
trust me, do you?"

"You own the Raven, give that creepy radio show, and ring up the police
station asking an officer to do a striptease, and then you wonder why I
don't trust you?"  Tracy snorted with amused laughter.  "No I don't trust
you, or Vachon or anyone else at the Raven."

"Why not?"  He asked her quickly.

"I can't forget where I am on the food chain."  She responded.  He smiled at
this, very honest of her.  He watched, enjoying the curve of her figure as
she checked behind the picture on the wall.  Of course he had not bugged the
room.  Oh but this was going to annoy his Nicholas so much.  It was worth it
for that alone, not to mention the pleasure it would give him.   The image
of her standing on the stage, glowing with gold dust, was quite an appealing
one.  He realised that she had moved on to the next picture.  "Nice picture,
looks like a Picasso.  I've got a copy of one too."

"That isn't a copy."  He said quickly and her eyes opened wider.  "So why do
you not trust Vachon?"

"Because he's never there.  When I need his help he's not there.  When he
thinks I won't notice he's at the Raven playing with Ursula.  Besides he
thinks I'm stupid and won't tell me anything.  It's all I can do to get him
to talk at all.  Trust is a two way thing, Mr Lacroix."  Tracy turned around
as she finished her checking.

"Lucien, please."  He responded.  "And I will call you Tracy."

"Okay."  Tracy did not exactly like that, but she did not think it would be
wise to refuse.

"So are you afraid of us?"  His eyes were interested.

"No, fear paralyses.  I am cautious and aware of the danger, and I don't
trust easily.  There is a difference."  He smiled at her summary, and it
softened the sculptured outlines of his face, making it seem younger.

"I approve.  Too many people in this age trust without reason.  I do keep my
word though and I give you my word not to kill you, or to make any form of
recording of this.  We are quite alone."  He said quickly.  "Also I have
never needed to force women."

Tracy could believe that.  "Fine, whatever."  She looked at him.  "Where can
I get changed?"

"I put aside the first bedroom on the right, the one with the pale blue
walls."  He saw her nodding.  "Something amiss?"

"If I'd known you could afford a genuine Picasso I would have charged twenty
thousand."  She said as she went upstairs.  He sat down in his leather desk
chair and waited.  This was promising very well.  She was an unusual woman,
as well as an attractive one.  He would enjoy this very much.  After all if
Vachon could not gain her trust in a few months she was obviously unwilling
to trust at all.

What a blow to Nicholas if he could win this one.  On a more basic level,
she was quite the most appealing thing he had seen in a long while.  He
would see what came of it.  She could provide a good century's amusement,
perhaps more.  He looked up as she came in and turned off the main light,
closing the curtain as she did so.  She was dressed in a long coat, buttoned
down to her ankles, and revealing very little.  Her hair was pinned back.

She did not look at him, turning away to walk to the CD player mounted on
one wall and putting a disc in.  The music began again and she smiled as she
waited.  Lacroix smiled at her choice of song.  She did have a talent for
this.

"When the only sound in the empty street
Is the heavy tread of the heavy feet
That belongs to a lonesome cop
I open shop."

She began to unfasten the long raincoat, very slowly, moving slightly to the
music.

When the moon so long has been gazing down
On the wayward ways of the wayward town
That her smile becomes a smirk
I go to work.

She unfastened the rest of the coat with equal leisure and let it fall to
the floor.  Beneath it she was wearing a suit, a man's suit.  He remembered
the fashion some rich women had the in the twenties for wearing men's
clothes.  The suit was very twenties, with the long jacket and the flounced
shirt.  On her it looked decadent, almost sinful.

Love for sale
Advertising young love for sale
Love that's fresh and still unspoiled
Love that's only slightly soiled
Love for sale

She reached for her hair.  The pinned back look had created an impression of
androgyny.  When she removed the pin and shook out her hair, she looked
shockingly feminine, and being dressed as a man, very appealing for it.

Who, who will buy?
Who would like to sample my supplies?
Who's prepared to pay the price?
For a trip to paradise.
Love for sale.

She let the jacket slip from one shoulder at a time and he watched her.  The
shirt was flounced and had the high collar, traditional of the time.  Yet it
was in a chiffon material that let the light through, outlining her
underwear beneath.  It was an attractive mixture of masculine and feminine.

Let the poets pipe of love
In their childish way
I know every type of love
Better far than they

She reached for the button fly on the trousers and as she did so, he became
aware that she had teamed them with stiletto heels.  She let the trousers
fall to her ankles and stepped out of them.

If you want the thrill of love
I've been through the mill of love
Old love, new love,
Every love but true love
Love for sale

The shirt covered her now.  She was wearing lace topped hold ups and he
watched as she rolled them down and slid the stockings and shoes off.

Love for sale
Advertising young love for sale
If you want to buy my wares
Follow me and climb the stairs.
Love for sale.

She unbuttoned her shirt, very slowly, a button at a time.

Let the poets pipe of love
In their childish way
I know every type of love
Better far than they

As the shirt fell to the floor, finally she revealed herself to be wearing a
long black camisole, falling to her thighs.

If you want the thrill of love
I've been through the mill of love
Old love, new love
Every love but true love

She eased the camisole from her shoulders, sliding the strap over one

shoulder at a time.  Then she let it fall to the floor.

Love for sale
Advertising young love for sale

She smiled at him, for the first time looking flirtatious and seemingly
unaware of her lack of clothing as she listened to the music.  The song was
ending.

If you want to buy my wares,
Follow me and climb the stairs

With this she was at the door and she looked at him, pausing a moment before
turning and leaving the room.

Love for sale
Love for sale

He was out of the chair and across the room, following the invitation in the
song and in her smile, before remembering that she had not meant any such
invitation and he would not delude himself into thinking otherwise.  He
shook his head.  She certainly had style.  She was not a professional
stripper, in fact she moved more as if she were undressing herself to music,
with occasional awkward moments.  He smiled.  The dance was over, so the fun
could begin now.

End Part Three.


Anything Goes 4/4

By Spike Shovelton

See Part One for disclaimer.

Yes she had such individual style.  He sighed as he turned off the CD player
and put the lights back on, waiting for her to return.  She did so.  She was
wearing the same slacks and a blouse she had arrived in.  "Well, I hope that
pleased you."  She said, beginning to gather up her clothes.

"Perfectly."  He looked at her.  "It was an excellent investment."

"Really."  Tracy sounded disbelieving.  In some ways it had been worse with
just one person watching.  In a crowd you did not notice so much the
individual people.  Here she could not help but notice that she was being
watched.

"Indeed."  He looked at her.  "Can I offer you a drink, or anything to eat?"

"No thanks."  Tracy looked around herself, she wanted to get out of here and
hide.

"Are you embarrassed?"  He asked and Tracy forced herself not to squirm
under his examining eyes.  He had a way of looking at her that seemed to see
through into her soul.

"No."  Tracy said quickly.  "I fulfilled my part of the bargain."  He nodded
and she wished he would give her an easy way out.  "I did what you wanted."

"Very much so."  He smiled as she refused to break his gaze.  "You are a
remarkable woman, Tracy.  I would like to get to know you better.  You can
keep your clothes on if you'd rather."  His voice was the low purr of the
Nightcrawler and Tracy remembered now why his show was so compelling.  That
man probably defined charisma.

"If you wanted to talk to me, you only had to ask, you didn't need to try
and buy it."  Tracy responded.

"Yes but this way is so much more interesting."  He looked at her.  "I had
expected you to throw it back indignantly in my face.  For you to impose
conditions and demand double what I offered was unexpected, and at my age
one should not turn down the unexpected."

"How old are you then, Mr Lacroix?"  Tracy asked quickly as they stood like
opposing generals on a battlefield.

"In this calendar I was born in 35AD in the outskirts of Rome.  My father
was a senator."  He saw her jaw drop slightly.  "So very old."

"So you were one of the depraved Roman emperors, Caligula or Nero or
something like that?"  Tracy asked and her companion snorted.  Tracy watched
as he convulsed with laughter.

"Nero?  Do I seem so depraved to you?"  His tone was amused and she studied
him.  He shook his head in disbelief.  "Nero, and they used to laugh at me
for being staid and set in my ways."  He had not laughed so hard in a long
time.  He imagined what some of his fellow Romans would have said.  By Roman
standards he had been very conventional.

"So what was life like?"  Despite her better judgement she was intrigued.
Vachon never told her half of the things she wanted to know about history.
"Nero for example, was he really mad?"  She asked before she could stop
herself.

"Mad is a relative term.  Nero would probably have some long psychological
description of what he was.  He was unstable, desperate for approval, he
wanted to be the best at everything, the best actor and singer and speaker.
He wanted approval I think.  He was a little like a small child, who could
not see that when you killed someone they remained dead."  He explained and
she nodded.

"I've arrested a few like that."  Tracy agreed.  "Was it true that he killed
his wives?"

"Oh yes, he divorced his first wife.  I liked Octavia.  I don't think she
had ever wanted to marry him.  It was complicated, but her brother, his
stepbrother Britannicus was the true heir so Nero poisoned him.  I doubt
Octavia ever forgave him.  After the divorce he had her killed.  He married
Poppaea Sabina, his mistress.  She did not really live to regret it.  Nero
loved her, but that did not stop him kicking her to death.  After that he
moved onto a slave called Sporus who resembled Poppaea a little.  His tastes
became more extreme, more violent, even by the standards of the empire.  He
did not understand the finality of death."  He raised an eyebrow at her
laughter.  "Something amuses you?"

"Hearing about finality of death from someone who obviously didn't die when
he ought to have done."  Tracy said and found she wanted to know.  "Go on,
so who were you there?"

"Lucius."  His voice was little more than a whisper.  "Lucius Aurelius of
the tribe of the Sabines, General of the 2nd Augustan Legion and victor of
Judea, Syria, and Albion.  Conqueror of the Barbarians and Crucifier of the
East."

"How many of those did you make up yourself?"  Tracy asked and he turned and
glared at her.   Tracy decided that baiting him was not a wise decision.
Lacroix wondered how she dared to mock him.  Then he realised quite how
pompous he had sounded, as none of the titles meant anything any more.  He
smiled and she returned the expression.  "So that's why Lucien Lacroix,
Lucius the Crucifier?"

"Exactly so."  He smiled at this.  Tracy shivered at the thought.  "During
the Syrian campaign I crucified 200 men in one day.  They had rebelled
against Rome, and those who disobey must be made to pay for it."  She looked
at the coldness in his eyes before the eyes softened.  "Forgive me, I did
not intend to become a military bore."  The disarmingly gentle smile on his
face put her off guard.

"You weren't."  Tracy said before she could stop herself.  His eyes shone
and she had the uncomfortable sensation of having fallen into a trap.

"In that case perhaps you would consider continuing this conversation over
dinner."  He said and smiled.  "If not tonight then perhaps on your next
evening off."  He looked at her.  "I could tell you some more amusing things
about my military experiences.  Life in Rome was not all bread and
circuses."

Tracy found herself actually wondering about accepting.  She tried to find a
reason not to.  He might kill her, then again he had given her his word.  In
all honesty the chance to talk to someone who had seen almost two millennia
of history ought not to be passed up.  "Okay, as long as I am not on the
menu."

"I gave you my word."  He managed to sound offended.  "I always keep my
promises."  He studied her.

"Why is it so important to you to keep your word?"  Tracy asked suddenly.
"You seem to value it."

"It was our way, the word of a citizen, an army commander, carried weight.
In war you need to be able to keep your word, because if you do not then how
can you expect your adversary to keep his or hers?  It is not just a good
idea, it is a necessity."  He said and she nodded.  "There is a Latin word
"dignitas" it means more than dignity, it has overtones of honour and
integrity and not showing people what you feel.  To break my word would
diminish my dignitas.  Do you understand?"

"I think so."  Tracy looked at him.  "You say that the word of a citizen
carried weight, what about other people?"

"Slaves had very little worth in any sense.  What your word was worth
depended on who you were."  He looked at her. "Sunday evening then, shall we
say at Azure?"  Tracy wondered idly how he knew her schedule but they agreed
on that and he showed her to the door.

As she arrived home she heard her mobile ringing and realised that four
hours had passed.  "Vetter."

"Tracy, everything okay?  It's Irene Farmer here."  Tracy remembered that
she had agreed that the other cop would call her to check that she was still
alive.

"Everything's fine."  Tracy said quickly.  "Still alive, not killed by a mad
axe murderer."

"Good, so you're fine, I can tell the squad car I've got down the road to go
home?"  Irene said and Tracy concurred.

"You might as well.  You didn't bug the place?"  Tracy heard the negative.

"He didn't hassle you?  I can still pick him up."  Irene said and Tracy
laughed.  "Oh I see, nice man?"

Tracy groaned, Irene was as much of a matchmaker as Tracy's parents.  She
just had rather better taste.  "Dangerous, completely untrustworthy,
charming and alarmingly likeable."  Outside the window Lucien Lacroix
smiled.  That was a promising sign.  Just as well he had ignored the police
presence.  "Not at all suitable."

"I should think not."  Irene Farmer grinned.  "You get some rest.  I want to
hear all about this at work.  Not to mention seeing Nick's face when you win
the bet and he has to do all the paperwork."  The women traded evil
chuckles.  Lacroix was rather disappointed that he would miss that
conversation.  He would have to look forward to dinner.  Speaking of which,
he could smell vagrant up the alley, definitely time for a late supper.

Tracy shook her head as she fell into her bed.  Well that made life more
interesting.  She would win her bet with Nick, at least there was that.  She
smiled in pleasure.  Why could she not attract men with a pulse?  Still she
knew how much she was worth now.  Then again if he could afford an original
Picasso then he could afford her dancing.

"Demi Moore eat your heart out."  Tracy murmured before she drifted off to
sleep.

It was worth it for the look on her partner's face when she was announced as
having made the most money, for taking her clothes off.  She wondered if she
was going to live it down, and all of the men were disappointed to have
missed it.  She was amazed that they had actually expected her to want them
to see it.

"I still don't know how you made so much money."  Nick said as they went to
the office and Natalie nodded.  "Where did you do it?"

"Amateur night at a local nightclub."  Tracy said, not going to let on more
than she need.  Nick kept enough secrets from her.  "Apparently I nearly
caused a riot."  She paused, letting him picture that.  "Miklos wanted to
offer me a job."

"Which club?"  Nick said, he had a bad feeling about this, working it out.
"Not the Raven?"

"Yeah.  Everyone loved it, the crowd were so nice to me.  I thought it would
be horrible but they were so sweet and appreciative.  No wonder you like it
so much.  I must have made so many new friends."  Tracy smiled warmly.  She
was enjoying this part of it.  Just watching Nick worry and twitch was so
rewarding.  Nick looked at Natalie in horror.  "I made a fortune for the
charity.  I just dread what my father will say.  Hopefully he won't find
out."

Nick was not going to live this down either when word got around that his
mortal partner had stripped at a vampire hangout and that she got on better
with the community than he did.  He sighed heavily, why did Stonetree have
to find him a partner in the first place?

Tracy smiled at the horror on his face.  She had suspected what he was for a
long time.  This seemed to be proving her suspicions.  Life was getting more
and more interesting.  She wondered about telling him about her private
performance for the Nightcrawler.  Perhaps best not to.  "I worked out why
you like CERK."  She said and smiled in pleasure at the panic spreading
across his face.  "That Mr Lacroix is such a sweetie.  He gave me a huge
donation when I explained that I needed to make more money than my partner."

Nick nodded.  "How nice of him."  He said between clenched teeth.  He had
not felt so sick to his stomach since his first hangover.

"Yes, and such good company, so entertaining.  You wouldn't think from his
shows he would have such a sense of humour."  Tracy smiled.  Nick swore to
kill his master properly next time.  He would not just have a flaming stake,
he would have a flaming quiver of flaming arrows dipped in holy water.
Tracy decided that Nick had been uncomfortable enough.  Sometimes playing
the dumb blonde was very rewarding.  "I hope you enjoy doing the paperwork,
Nick."

"I'm sure I will."  Nick looked at his partner as she began checking her
e-mail.  The last thing he needed was for her to start liking CERK.  Vachon
was supposed to be keeping her out of trouble.

Tracy smiled, this was getting to be fun.  She would enjoy her evening with
Lucien Lacroix.  She was also going to enjoy Nick doing the paperwork for
once.  It just went to show that she always won her bets.  As she read her
e-mail she smiled.  This was very interesting, and she was prepared to bet
that CERK would be interesting this evening.  Tracy smiled.  With vampires
like these, things were never dull.  Just went to show how giving to charity
was an excellent idea.

The End

1) All music is the property of Cole Porter and no infringement of his
rights, or those of his heirs and copyright holders, is intended.

2) The account of Nero's life is known to be true.  He did poison his
stepbrother Britannicus and marry his stepsister Octavia.  He also executed
her and murdered his second wife Poppaea before turning to a eunuch called
Sporus who resembled Poppaea.

3) The term "dignitas" means a combination of dignity and honour and has
implications of status.  I have taken the definition from a novel called
"Caesar's Women" by Colleen McCullough, which I thoroughly recommend to
anyone with an interest in Roman customs.

4) No responsibility accepted for any accidents resulting from trying the
strip routines.  This is a story ergo they may not work so well in RL
situations.