Ask the hard question. Usual disclaimers apply. Forever Knight and the characters and situations contained therein belong to Mr Parriot and Sony/Tristar. This is my story and I claim copyright hereto. Archive rights given to Mel Moser for fkfanfic and Cousin Mary if she wants it. Anyone else is welcome but please ask first. Flames are not wanted but comments are welcome at blot30@hotmail.com This story is the third story in a series and follows on from "I was a king in Babylon" and it won't make much sense unless you read that one first. You can find that at fkfanfic and the CERK Perk site. It's a short one this time. This story is rated PG-13. There is no explicit sex but some of the themes are not really geared for children. The title is taken from a poem called "The Question" by W.H. Auden, no infringement of his copyright is intended. There is a spoiler for "Ashes to Ashes." This is quite short and mostly conversation rather than action. Ask the hard question 1/2 By Spike Shovelton "Hey Button." Sonny Vetter looked down at his niece. "How's my favourite niece?" "I'm your only niece." Tracy commented and Sonny nodded. Since his transplant operation a few weeks ago he looked a great deal better. His skin was not too lined and his blue eyes were kind. He looked like a gentler version of Tracy's father. As a child Tracy had sometimes felt guilty for wishing that Sonny were her father. He was everything Richard Vetter wasn't, kind, understanding and gentle and always had time to talk to her. "You're still my favourite." He responded and she smiled at this. "You're a little pale." "You look very well." Tracy said and sat down beside him. "Am I disturbing your nap?" "Course not. The quacks say I'm doing much better, long as I take it easy. They want me to go back to Police Academy to teach the youngsters and I think I might from next year. Two days per week." He raised a hand. "Don't say it, your aunt won't let me overdo it." He grinned and Tracy returned the smile. "So what's my Button been doing?" "Work goes much as usual. Mum's in rehab again. She's managed to kick the booze so far." Tracy dropped her voice. "I think she's got a boyfriend. I went to see her and I saw this nice man sitting with her. It's okay I've run a background check on him, widower with no real vices." "It will do her good to have some male attention." Sonny smiled. "Your father said you're taking an evening class." "Yes, theories of crime and punishment. It's quite interesting. Last week was really good, all about punishments and war crimes." Tracy looked at him. "You were in the army. Was it different there?" "Oh yes." Sonny looked at her. "You know what I did. I ran away and joined the US troops going to Vietnam. I wanted a fight and was too stupid to realise that it was the wrong thing for me." He sighed. "When the American army got to Vietnam some of them were a bit affected by the power they were given. Things like My Lai were dreadful because the soldiers sometimes forgot that although they were fighting, their opponents were also people and deserved to be treated as such." "So what do you think of this?" Tracy handed her uncle the photocopy of the diary about campaign in Syria. It was three nights since their class and she had been unable to forget what they had been told about General Lucius. "Would you go out for a drink with this man?" "I don't know." Sonny looked at her. "You have to remember things are different during a war. People forget what they would ordinarily do. It's hard to imagine but part of being a soldier is to stop thinking of your opponents as people, as individuals. Plus this was a long time ago and the rules of war were different. I don't know what I'd have done in that position." He studied her. "There isn't an easy answer. I see some people I knew from the war and wonder how they sleep at night, but when you ask them they don't think they did anything wrong." He looked at her. "I just don't know, Button. Nice people can do dreadful things. I've seen men who read poetry and listen to music give orders to obliterate villages and cause untold havoc, and I've seen the opposite, men who joined up to get away from dreadful lives, shielding children with their own bodies." He shrugged. "No simple answers." "So would you go out for a drink with him?" Tracy asked and her uncle paused. "I think I'd probably go for a drink but not let my guard down and not trust him. I still don't trust some of the people I knew in Vietnam. When you see what they did then it's difficult to trust them." He looked at her. "Makes you glad to live in a civilised place, doesn't it?" Tracy nodded. That made some sense. Odd the way that talking to her uncle always helped. He seemed to know just what to say. "Speaking of civilised what's this partner of yours like?" "Annoying." Tracy said and settled back. They talked a while longer then she checked the time. "I need to get to work. I just wanted to see how you were doing." She left, setting off into the centre of Toronto. Hopefully there wouldn't be too much paperwork. Tracy was reading through her papers the following week as they prepared for the class. She watched as people came in, but the one she was half hoping for and half dreading seeing never came. Lucien Lacroix was conspicuous by his absence. She had been trying to work out what to say. Talking to someone after you learnt that he was 2000 years old and given to crucifying rebellious Syrians was difficult. She had been planning how to manage ordinary conversation all week. She did not know, whether she was relieved or annoyed, that he was absent. It was very quiet and rather dull without him and she tried to concentrate on the discussion of crime. They were examining how certain acts were crimes in some jurisdictions but not in others and how this changed over time. Related to this they looked at trends in prosecution and tried to see which offences people were charged with and which were simply ignored. At the end she stood to go and realised that Malcolm was saying something to her. "Sorry what was that?" "I said would you take Lucien a copy of the lecture handout? Given that you two are friends." Malcolm said and Tracy looked stunned. "It will let him know what reading is to be done for next week." "What makes you think we're friends?" Tracy asked. "Years of experience of human nature." The lecturer responded. Tracy nodded. She had to go home and do some jobs but she would go later. Tracy looked at the crowds in the Raven. She had not been in here since Vachon died and it felt weird going in there now. She looked at the crowd of people, pale skinned and darkly clad. It felt appropriate and she walked over to the bar. "Good to see you here again." Miklos, the darkly handsome bartender, smiled at her. "What can I get you?" "Just an orange juice." Tracy said quickly. "Is Lacroix in tonight?" "He went out. He said he'd be back about ten thirty." Miklos smiled as he placed the glass in front of her. "Why do you want to see the General?" "You call him that?" Tracy asked. It did not totally surprise her that he still wanted to be known by his title. He still moved like the officer he had been and gave no quarter, any more than he had then. It was frightening in some ways. "Of course." Miklos responded and she smiled. "You're safe to wait for him here." "Right." Tracy wondered why that was. His words reminded her how narrow her protection was and how dangerous it was to walk in the shadows as she did. "His orders and mine." Miklos smiled answering the question before she worked out how to phrase it. "Javier Vachon's maker was a friend of mine." His gaze was sad. "The most beautiful woman I ever saw, until I met Janette." "Janette, she used to own this place?" Tracy asked and Miklos nodded. "What is she like?" "She is something special." He broke off as the telephone rang. "Excuse me." He returned a few minutes later. "General is back. He said to send you up if you want to see him." "He can't come down? I feel suddenly like the fly going into the spider's parlour." Tracy asked and Miklos smiled. "You're as safe as you can be." Miklos responded. "I'll take you though." He fell into step beside Tracy as they went up the stairs and through into the flat over the club. He knocked slightly. "Ms Vetter is here." He said. "Tracy, please come in." Lacroix emerged. As he studied her Tracy wondered how many people had seen his face just before dying, and how many women had seen it softening to a smile. Then she looked at him again. He looked tired and his eyes showed every one of his years and every one of those lives. "Thank you Miklos." The bartender looked likely to linger. "Oh don't worry Ms Vetter won't be harmed." Once he had gone he studied Tracy. "So what brings Goldilocks into my cottage?" "Would you believe I came to steal your porridge?" Tracy asked and he smiled but his eyes were cold. "I brought your handout from the lecture. Malcolm asked me to drop it over. Cindy offered to bring it, but I said that I'd rather do it." "I am flattered and I would prefer your company. If she calls me Louie much more she may find herself on the menu." Lacroix responded and looked at the outline from the lecture. "Did you enjoy the class?" "I enjoyed the discussion of the trends in criminal prosecution. It was interesting seeing how things we take for granted used to be crimes. I didn't agree with all the analysis of police response to crimes." She realised he wasn't really listening. "What is wrong?" "Nothing." He responded. "I don't buy that you're whiter than usual, you look like you want to hit someone and then sleep for a week. My instincts as a cop say that something is up." She saw the irritation in his face. "Want to talk?" "No it's just business." He responded. "Business doesn't have that effect, not on someone who faced down armies. Besides you wouldn't miss class without a reason." Tracy looked at him and he sat down. "It's Nick, isn't it?" She said, realising that nothing else would have that effect. End Part One Ask the hard question 2/2 By Spike Shovelton See Part One for disclaimer Lacroix looked at her. She seemed to be genuinely sympathetic and interested. He did not know her that well but her file indicated that she could keep a secret. Besides she was talking to him, despite her reaction to his past. "It usually is. In confidence then." Tracy nodded. "I have just spent three hours before a panel of enforcers persuading them that publicly executing Natalie Lambert would be inappropriate." "You what?" Tracy asked. That was the last thing she expected. "I do it every few months. You do know that she is attempting to cure Nicholas." Tracy hadn't known that but she had guessed something of the sort. She nodded. "That has made her privy to a great deal of information about us. There is concern that she may attempt to destroy us." He looked at the other woman. "She loves Nick too much." Lacroix nodded. "Nick loves her too." "Yes I know. Nicholas has never been able to hide from me." Lacroix smiled. "So I defend her and ensure that she survives, for now. It will not last. Within a year the Community must move on and leave Toronto. When they do you and Natalie must decide what to do, whether to join us or forget us." He looked at her, hearing her surprised gasp. "Unless they manage to execute her first." He did not ask her which option she would take. "So why don't you let them be together? If she comes over in a year's time they will be together anyhow so you might as well let them get together now." Tracy asked, trying not to think about what he had said. She knew that she would probably come across but she was trying not to consider the matter in too much depth. "They love each other so much it hurts. They would be together given a chance so something must be stopping them and Nick wouldn't allow anyone else to do it." "Maybe not." Lacroix looked at her. "If Nicholas had the courage of his convictions he would have taken her by now." "Perhaps he's too afraid of what you might do to her." Tracy responded. She saw her companion's blue eyes speckle with gold and realised that she had managed to anger him. He calmed himself and studied her for a long moment. "I see." Lacroix looked at the mortal woman with interest. "Tell me something, why did you and Vachon not become lovers?" He enquired. "I think we were afraid as well. I don't know but I think Nick put the frighteners on Vachon and so he didn't want to do anything. Plus I wasn't ready. I think in the end we might have done, I don't know if we could have got over the differences between us but I wish I could have had the time to try." Tracy sighed. "If I had the time again I would probably do it differently but we only get one shot." She looked at Lacroix. "If you let them be together they could be happy. Besides wouldn't a happy, satisfied Natalie be less dangerous to the Community?" She looked at him. "But then this is personal." She knew he wouldn't be angry otherwise. If he hadn't minded then he would have allowed Nick and Nat to be together and not done anything. "Yes." Lacroix responded. "Personal and private." He looked at her and for a moment they sat in silence. Tracy wondered whether to push this or not. Probably better not to annoy him too much. "I should let you get some sleep." She said finally, unable to tolerate the silence any longer. "I am not being a good host then." Lacroix sighed. "Tell me what I missed this evening." Tracy looked at him as he issued the command then waited. Lacroix smiled. "If you would not object." He added. She smiled as he made the command a request. He may be incredibly old but she was not going to let him order her around. "We started by discussing some acts which were crimes and have been decriminalised, like abortion and homosexuality, and why their status changed. Then we looked at the opposite, things that used to be legal and are now crimes." "Interesting." Lacroix said. "Yes, then we went on to look at why some crimes are not investigated and hardly prosecuted." Tracy explained. "Mostly because the police don't have the resources." She sighed. "There is a pile this high on my desk of ongoing cases. I don't have time or money to solve them all. Besides there's an order of importance." "High profile cases first?" Lacroix asked and she paused, nodding finally. "Anything with press and public attention, anyone who has connections or whose family is likely to kick up a fuss." She considered a moment. "Vagrants with badly concealed bitemarks are low down on the list." He chuckled at this. "It isn't funny! You think I like having to write them down, fight, bitten by animals, drunk and so cut himself on a bottle? Nick detests it too. We look at each other and he won't say anything and I won't say anything but we both know and hate it." Lacroix watched her fume. She was beautiful when she was angry, her cheeks were flushed pink and her pulse reaced. "Yet you do it." He pointed out. "Alternative would be worse." She said and he nodded. "So we bear with it. The worst part is that nobody cares really. With the homeless nobody gives a damn, as long as the statistics are right and it isn't a serial killer. They prefer that we concentrate on the important matters." She sighed, anger and bitterness apparent in her tone. "Sorry it just gets to me sometimes." "I see." Lacroix looked at her and decided to change the subject and raise the stakes. "I do not know about the police but the trends in decriminalisation are fascinating. In my age morality was flexible." His lips curved into a smile. "We all know how depraved the Romans were." Tracy added and he raised one elegantly arched eyebrow. "How much of that is true?" "We did have a flexible approach to sexuality." His smile remained and he considered the matter. "As long as one married respectably and maintained the façade of respectability then one could do what one wanted within reason." He looked at her. "In my case that tended towards a taste for blondes, mostly barbarian women, but in general anyone with intelligence. I don't think that has changed much over the years." Tracy coloured slightly under his appreciative scrutiny. "Marcus whose diary you read, tended to like young boys of twelve and thirteen. There was depravity and cruelty I will admit. But we did not all sleep with our sisters and corrupt young children. Some did and some didn't." He studied her. "In your experience are people today any better?" He looked at her. "I don't know I wasn't in your era so I don't know how different it is. When you train to be a police officer you have it drummed into you not to make judgements until you have enough facts." Tracy responded. "I have no way of comparing your time and mine." "No." Lacroix poured himself a drink. "If you were one of us then you could know easily." His smile was enigmatic as he turned back to her, holding the goblet of wine in one hand. "But perhaps you do not wish to take the risk." Tracy opened her mouth and realised that he was baiting her, wanting her to agree. No she was not going to fall for it so easily. "That depends on the nature of the risk." She looked at him. Nobody so predatory should look so appealing. "But I don't think I will bite." He smiled at her choice of words. "Wise decision." Lacroix responded. She was a challenge to him. She refused to let him direct the conversation too easily. "Perhaps if you decide to join us then you may reconsider." He looked at her. "I have something that will serve until then. Two things in fact." He walked to the bookshelves at one side of the room. "This is Suetonius." He handed her a thick paperback. "He was an inveterate gossip who recorded enough scandal about depraved Roman emperors to satisfy the modern gutter press." "Right." Tracy looked at the date. This was a recent edition. "Is it accurate?" "Reasonably so. He repeats rumour and scandal as fact but the essence is correct and this is a good translation." Lacroix conceded. "Then there is this." The second book was bound in leather. She opened it and saw that it was handwritten. The writing was neat and legible. She recognised it from his lecture notes. There was no introduction and it seemed to be a play. "Did you write this?" Tracy asked and he shook his head. "Marcus?" "Yes, it was his first play. His works are lost in time. I translated it into English for Alyce because her Latin was not good, but I never gave it to her." He saw her confusion. "Alyce was a daughter, I made her a few years ago, an archaeologist. I believe she is digging up Babylon now." "Alyce Hunter?" Tracy asked, putting facts together. That explained why she was supposed to be dead. She looked at the play. "What's this about?" "You'd approve, corruption in high places." Lacroix smiled. "An official who is taking bribes. It was too subversive to make it widely known but Marcus was undoubtedly talented." "I'll read them." Tracy said and smiled at him. "You didn't type it?" "No, I preferred to write it by hand." He looked at her. "Let me know what you think when you read it." "I'll do that." Tracy checked the time. "I should go I need to get some petrol and the garage closes at midnight." He nodded and rose to his feet and despite her protests he walked her to the car. "You are very welcome here at any time." He purred as she unlocked her door. "Thanks." Tracy didn't feel it. When she had walked into the Raven everyone had looked at her. She knew that despite the fact she was protected, she really shouldn't go there. "I'll see you next week in class." "Until then." Lacroix watched as she pulled away. This was becoming very interesting. He would have to check on Nicholas. His son seemed quite unaware of how appealing Ms Vetter was. Then again Nicholas was often very obtuse. Tracy sighed as she poured herself a glass of milk. Things got more and more complicated. She certainly didn't trust Lacroix. He was too dangerous by far. Yet despite that he was very appealing, like one of those beautiful poisonous snakes. She really should have known better than to involve herself with vampires. She shouldn't like his company, shouldn't enjoy his contribution in class as much as she did. A part of her had wanted to take his offer, knowing full well how he wanted to share his experience. The rest of her had decided that as attractive as he was, she didn't want to get killed just yet. Plus she really didn't know what his game was. This could all be some fight with Nick. Lacroix had warned her not to trust him and she wouldn't. Much as she found him attractive she was not going to trust him until he gave her some idea of what he was up to. She tried to come to terms with his other news. One year of mortal life was all that remained to her. She had wondered what was going to happen when she had refused to allow him to whammy her. Hell she'd wondered from the beginning where this was going to go. She did not know what she would do. She knew that she didn't want to forget, that she had learnt too much to go back to what she had been. Yet she didn't really want to face the consequence of that. Didn't want to think that within a year she would be joining the community. She sighed. Next time she saw someone moving around after a plane crash she would look the other way wouldn't she? No she couldn't do that. Being the person she was there was no way she could have done otherwise and now she was becoming more and more involved with the community. It was the consequence of retaining knowledge. Acts had consequences but she didn't like it at all. She still didn't know what she was going to do. Each time she talked to vampires she had more problems and no sign of obvious solutions. Asking the questions was easy, she knew what the choices were. Finding the answers though, was a different matter. The End 1) Suetonius wrote an incredibly amusing book detailing the lives of the Roman rulers from Julius Caesar to Domitian. It manages to provide scandalous gossip on their proclivities but is also fascinating on a factual level. 2) The title comes from a poem called "The Question" by W.H. Auden. It just seemed to fit the mood of the piece. The section goes as follows. To ask the hard question is simple The simple act of the confused will But the answer Is hard and hard to remember 3) Not all of the views expressed in this story are my own. I don't agree with everything the characters say.