I sing the body electric

By Spike Shovelton

Disclaimers

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 is the fourth story in a series beginning with "Lucifer in Starlight."
This follows on from "Ask the hard question."  It will probably make more
sense to read the rest of the series first.  This isn't a very action
oriented series, it's more just life happening.   There are possible
spoilers for Ashes to Ashes.  The title comes from a poem by Walt Whitman
and no infringement of his copyright is intended either.

I sing the body electric 1/2

By Spike Shovelton

Over the next month Tracy wondered what was going on.  Half the time she
really wanted to stake the old vampire.  He was so infuriating, trying to
whammy her, refusing to help them identify the head in the beer fridge, and
contradicting her in class.  He wanted her to lose her temper sometimes
deliberately tried to annoy her.  Yet as against that he had a particularly
evil, dry sense of humour and there was a way he could look at her, so
appreciative, so seductive that she wanted to melt.  Knowing that she would
probably have to come across eventually did not help her to know what to say
to him, and reading the books he had loaned her did not make her understand
him any the better.  Suetonius was very amusing and the play Marcus had
written was outstanding.  It was as real now as it had ever been and hardly
seemed dated.

On the third hand there was another way Lacroix could look that made her
remember the chillingly accurate description of his time in Syria.  It was
more the look of a hawk watching a mouse.  The more she knew him the less
she could understand him, books or no books.  She sighed, this course was
supposed to bring her into contact with mortal ways, let her rebuild her
mortal life.  She had wanted to do something and this was as good as
anything.  If she could get this diploma then it would look quite good on
her CV.

Yet she seemed as much involved with the vampires as ever.  Now she knew
that eventually she would have to decide whether to join them or forget
them.  It seemed that no matter what she had intended to do, now she was
involved with the community she was stuck with it.

Shrugging she arrived at the classroom and began to order her papers.  They
were studying theories of crime again.  She was enjoying the course so far.
They were now seven weeks into it.  She still had to choose a topic for her
assessed work.  She looked up as she heard movement and saw the well coiffed
socialite enter.  "Hello Cindy."  Tracy smiled politely.  "How is life?"

"He doesn't want you.  I saw him first."  Tracy looked puzzled at this.
What was that supposed to mean?  "Don't dare to steal him from me or I'll
kill you."  She threatened and stormed away.  Tracy shook her head in
disbelief.  What was that about?

The others began to arrive.  Tracy sighed as she read her papers through and
looked up when Lucien Lacroix came to sit beside her.  "Tracy.  How are
you?"

"Fine, another busy week.  I arrested six men and yesterday killed one, so I
guess that is progress."  She said dryly and he looked at her.

"Why did you kill one?"  He asked softly.

"He was attempting to kill someone and refused to stop it."  Tracy shivered
at the memory despite her attempt to brush it off.  Every time she had to
take a life it marked her.  "I hated it, but I couldn't stop him any other
way.  I don't like killing people, it makes me sick."  She looked at him,
waiting for some smart comment, but she was unable to identify the
expression in his eyes.  That Roman diarist was right, his eyes were like
lapis lazuli sometimes, a pure stone but one that prevented her from seeing
through it.  "So how was your week?"

"Good.   I was wondering if you would like to hear some music.  I have
tickets for a lieder recital, a friend of mine from the university is
singing."  He suggested and Tracy smiled.

Good that some men wanted to spend time with her.  Bad that he was the
bloodsucking undead.  What was it with her?  Could she only attract men
lacking a pulse?  Tracy wondered why she never had this luck with mortal
men.  Most of them were too afraid of her father.  She thought for a moment.
  This was probably a bad idea but she had so many questions to ask him and
recently he had been diverting her away from asking him any of them.  He had
been charming and pleasant but he had not answered her questions and she had
not seen him out of class since her visit to the Raven.  He seemed to have
been waiting, she did not know why.

Finally she shrugged.  Lieder recitals were not her favourite but being
suspended waiting for an investigation into the man she shot was very dull.
Besides she needed to talk to him about Nick and Natalie.  "Okay but you
have to promise not to kill me."

"Tracy, I haven't killed you yet."  He responded.  "You will come then?"
She nodded at this.  "I will enjoy your company.  It is on Tuesday, can you
get the night off?"

"Yeah, I'm suspended until IA finish the investigation into the guy I shot."
  She looked up as the lecturer came into the room.  That week she received
three anonymous telephone calls, all of which hung up when she answered
them.  She sighed and informed Joe Reese.  It was not the first time.  As a
beat cop she had received threatening calls for two weeks before they traced
them to a man she had arrested for indecent exposure.  These ones were
traced to a phone booth in a shopping centre, which did not help.

Tracy checked her make up and smiled.  She didn't clean up so badly.  She
had chosen a long top in pale green chiffon and a matching flowing skirt.
It made her eyes look more green than blue.

Lacroix smelled her before he saw her.  The scent of apricots on the breeze
haunted him.  She was quite delicious and he looked forward to her joining
them. The clothes clung to her and he was reminded of the legends of his
mortal life.  She resembled nothing so much as a dryad or nymph.  Almost he
expected her to turn into a stream or a tree if he touched her.  That seemed
to be the fate of nymphs, gods seduced them and the women turned into things
to escape the gods.  He realised she was coming over and he sought for
words.

"You look delightful tonight Tracy."  He said and looked at her.  "I am
stunned."

"I should hope so."  She smiled, as she looked him over.  He looked rather
delightful himself.  The black suit made his skin resemble the white silk of
a wedding dress and his eyes glowed. "Shall we go?"  She said.

"Of course."  He said and offered her his arm.  They went to the seats he
had booked and settled down.

"Louie, your admirer Cindy is watching us."  Tracy pointed to the other
woman, sitting in a box.

He caught her hand and she turned.  "Do not call me that, or you may suffer
a sudden loss of blood."  His voice was deadpan and Tracy looked at him for
a moment before smiling impishly.  Then the glare faded and Lacroix sighed.
"That woman is most irritating."

The curtain drew back and two men walked over to the piano.  One sat and the
other remained standing.  They began to sing songs by Strauss, Beethoven and
Schubert.  Tracy smiled, the pianist was good but the bass baritone singing
was outstanding.  He had a richly creamy voice and as he sung, Tracy
listened, enjoying the mingling of piano and voice.  She was stunned when
the interval arrived.

"Louie."  Cindy came over and leaned towards Lacroix.  "Fancy meeting you
here, darling."

"Indeed."  Lacroix looked at the woman.  "Do you like music?"

"Sure, I love music."  The woman smiled, completely ignoring Tracy.  "I
should have known you'd look so good in a dinner jacket."

Tracy looked up and saw a man heading for them.  He was probably Cindy's
husband or something similar.  He came over and Cindy turned to look at him.
  "Cindy, come here."  He said quickly.

"I've got to go.  See you soon Louie."  She left the room and Lacroix
groaned.

"Nobody calls me Louie."  He said and Tracy giggled at this.  "I am
convinced that there is something wrong with that woman."

"I don't doubt it."  Tracy said quickly and smiled at him.  "Let's talk
about something more amusing."

Their conversation ranged widely, covering music, literature and local news.
  They stuck to topics of less personal relevance.  Tracy had not expected
to have so much in common with him.  She opened her mouth to ask him
something that had been on her mind since her visit to the Raven but before
she could do so, the house lights dimmed and the curtain rose again.   The
second half was, in some ways, even better than the first, more Schubert and
a Britten song cycle.  The singer had a thrilling way of bringing the
meaning to the words.  As they finished the programme the bass announced an
encore and began another song.  Tracy did not know it but the words were
haunting.  It was in English this time and she listened attentively.

The water is wide, I cannot get o'er
And neither have I wings to fly
Give me a boat that will carry two
And both shall row, my love and I

It was a love song but it was not happy, rather it was haunting.

Oh down in the meadow the other day
A gathering flowers both fine and gay
A gathering flowers both red and blue
I little thought what love can do.

I leaned my back up against an oak
Thinking that it, was a trusty tree
But first it bended, and then it broke
And so did my false love to me

The song took a darker note with this, adding a pain to the word "broke"
that was emphasised by the heavier accompaniment.  There was a sense of
bewilderment as the singer continued, as if he had not known what would
happen.

A ship there is, and she sails the sea
She's loaded deep as deep can be
But not so deep as the love I'm in
I know not if I sink or swim.

The soft voice and the gradually rising accompaniment penetrated the hall
and made everyone take notice and Tracy felt a shiver up her spine as the
song changed into a minor key for the final verse, adding to the sense of
despair.

Oh love is handsome and love is fine
And love's a jewel while it is new
But when it is old it groweth cold
And fades away like morning dew.

The voice sank a tone on the word "cold" and became softer at the end.  For
a moment Tracy had a sense of foreboding as she took in the song, it was so
beautiful despite the sadness and she felt someone walking over her grave.
Then she realised that the hall was applauding and so she joined in with it
and felt the shadow pass.  "Incredible."  She said to her companion.  They
walked out into the foyer.

"Yes."  He agreed.  "The singer has a remarkable tone."   He looked up as
the singer in question came over, still dressed in his tuxedo.  "Buena Sera
Jose."

"Senor Lacroix, I knew you were here and had to say hello."  The singer
smiled at him.  He was a young man, not more than twenty, with olive skin
and a strong featured face that would be handsome in five years time when he
had grown into it.  "Did you enjoy the concert?"  His voice held a slight
accent and for a moment Tracy was reminded of Javier Vachon.  There was no
real likeness between them, just something in the voice and stance.  A chill
went through her at that memory.

"Your voice continues to improve."  Lacroix smiled.  "I trust you are
enjoying your study."

"Si."  The man turned to Tracy and then back to Lacroix.  "I hope you
enjoyed the evening."  A voice called his name.  "You must excuse me."  He
nodded his head and left.

Lacroix smiled at her.  "Did you enjoy the evening?"

"Yes, I didn't expect to, but yes."  Tracy admitted and saw him elevate one
well-arched eyebrow.

"The last time I suggested something you did not want you tried to break my
ribs.  Are you learning restraint?"  He asked and smiled.  "So why did you
come?"

"I wanted to hear the music."  She smiled at him and he returned the look as
they left the concert hall.

"Even so."  He looked at her.  "You wanted to ask me something when the
lights went down."

"Doesn't matter."  Tracy said finally.  "Actually, yes.  How do you know the
singer, Jose his name was?"  It was not her original question but she did
want to know.

"His mother is the cleaner at CERK."  Lacroix explained.  "Maria is a
remarkable woman.  She came from Argentina, speaking very little English,
with four young children, her husband dead in an accident."  He smiled.
"When I met Jose he was training as a plumber, having left school at sixteen
to support the family. There is a younger sister with cancer and he wished
to pay for her to receive an experimental treatment in America."  His lips
twitched.  "Maria had him fixing something and I heard him singing.  He had
a remarkable voice, wasted on something so trivial.  He was offered a
scholarship to study music."

"You paid for it."  Tracy said and he looked away.

"It came from a fund for musicians.  Maria is almost as proud as you are."
Lacroix was amused by her glare.  "She refused my assistance so I ensured
that someone else offered it.  He will go far, I have not heard such a bass
since Christoff."

Tracy studied him.  She knew how much money it would cost to cover the
living expenses, accommodation, books and necessities of student life.  For
him to have given so much to his cleaner's son simply because the boy had a
beautiful voice surprised her.  She had not expected him to be so generous.
She had a fair idea that he had helped with the sister as well.  "Did the
sister get the treatment?"

"She is in remission."  Lacroix said.  "I fear it may not last, but the
American surgeon proved excellent, for an American."  Tracy looked at him,
surprised by the dislike in his tone.  "I find the inhabitants in general
loud, vulgar and prone to stupidity.  Moreover the excess of greasy food
ruins the flavour of the blood."

"Rather a generalisation."  Tracy said and he studied her.  "I mean Martin
Luther King was American and he wasn't vulgar."

"An interesting choice of American to admire."  He responded.  "No there is
something about their idea that the American way is always the right one,
and that the rest of the world ought to feel honoured to accept it.   I find
it very disturbing."

"So nothing like the Roman insistence on taking over and subjugating anyone
who might be a threat to it's power?"  Tracy responded and he looked at her.

"You have been busy studying."  His lips curved into a very sweet smile.
For a moment there was no mockery in the gemstone eyes as he conceded the
point to her.  For that moment his face had such unearthly beauty that Tracy
could not speak. Then the mask returned.  "Despite that the blood still
tastes bad."  There was a pause as Tracy considered this situation  "Do you
want a ride home?" It still gave her the creeps how much he had done, his
casual reference to the taste of American blood was chilling, when she had
just heard that he had saved a girl's life, assured a boy's future and
probably looked after his cleaner very well. It reminded her that he was
still a vampire, still very dangerous, and that she was a fool to think of
trusting him.

Then again he could have killed her when she failed to whammy and as long as
she was still alive he couldn't be bad.  Unless he had some hidden agenda.
Actually he probably did have a hidden agenda but provided it didn't involve
violence or crime then she would try not to think about it.

"That would be nice, I thought I might be drinking so I left my car, took
the red rocket down here."  Tracy grinned.  "Besides I thought it might be
out of place here."  She pointed to the array of expensive, polished cars
outside the front of the concert hall, cars gradually filling up as the rich
emerged from their seats.

"Certainly."  He turned and offered her his arm.  Tracy took it.  At least
umpteen hundred years had led him to have good manners.  Tracy studied him
as she took it and they walked around the corner.  "So have you done your
homework for next week's class?"

"Just about.  It's a good course, although some of the Marxist theories are
a bit confusing."  Tracy said and he nodded.  "Did you know him?"

"Marx?"  He asked and she nodded.  "Not well, Lenin I knew slightly, and
Trotsky.  I preferred Trotsky, he was a very intelligent man, I think if he
had retained control then Russian history would have been quite different."

End Part One

I sing the body electric 2/2

By Spike Shovelton

See Part One for disclaimer

They turned down into an alley and Tracy looked at him.  "So where's your
car?"

"What car?"  He asked and smirked.  This was going to be quite fun.  He held
his side as she poked him hard in the ribs.    "You have to stop hitting me,
it is very antisocial for a police officer constantly to be assaulting the
public."

"I'm off duty and you're hardly an honest, well behaved member of the
public."  Tracy said and he chuckled.  He would not tolerate that behaviour
from many people but he rather admired her lack of fear.  It was very
appealing to see her fighting him.  Even a Roman would be impressed by her
self-control and the fact that she refused to give an inch.  "We aren't
taking the aerial route.  I'll get a taxi."  She turned to leave the alley.

"Are you afraid then?"  Lacroix appeared in front of her, moving
vampire-quick to bar her way.

"No, I just don't trust you."  Tracy said and he smiled.  She studied him.
No she did not trust him, as attractive as he undoubtedly was, and as much
as she did wonder how it would feel to fly, she knew that if she did then
she would be dependant on him not to drop her.  She did not care to place
her life into his hands.  In fact she wished she could have more control of
the relationship, such as it was.

"I would not drop you.  I can think of many more pleasant ways of killing
you."  His eyes focused on her throat and Tracy felt herself flush under his
appreciative gaze.  "I think you would enjoy the experience.  I mean the
flight."  He clarified the ambiguous statement a moment too late.  She shook
her head.  "You make it very difficult for me to be dashing and impressive,
but if you do prefer a taxi then I must of course obey you."

"You've never obeyed anyone in your life."  Tracy pointed out.

"Yes I have."  He responded.  "Just not often."

"Well whatever, I need to be going."  Tracy said and left the alley.  As she
did so she whistled loudly and signalled to a taxi that was going in the
other direction.  The driver nodded and began to negotiate the central
reservation.

"May I ask you something?"  Lacroix asked and she shrugged.  "If you
mistrust me so much, why did you come with me tonight?"

"I don't trust you."  Tracy said, still trying to sort it out.  "Yet I still
find you interesting."

"Because?"  Lacroix asked, his eyes amused.

The taxi pulled up and she climbed into it and leaned out of the door.
"Because you don't lie to me."  Tracy said finally.  "You tell me the truth
even when a lie would be more comfortable, and you keep your word.  You have
said that you wouldn't intentionally hurt me and I believe you'll stick to
that."

As she curled up in bed that evening Tracy smiled.  That had been a great
evening.  A part of her regretted that she had not taken up the chance of a
flight.  Then she reminded herself that she did not trust him, not in the
least and he still worried her a great deal.  Odd how she could find him
attractive and just when she was enjoying the experience she was brought
face to face with the fact that he was very dangerous.  For all she knew
this was some ploy in a game with her partner.  Tracy did not like being a
pawn.  She wished she could just know what was going on.  Still he was
certainly different and disturbingly good company.  Besides she could be
just as devious.  Tracy let herself doze off.

The woman on the throne smiled and turned to her advisor.  She was wearing a
tight leather and metal one-piece outfit that outlined her slender muscled
figure and full chest.  It was short enough to accentuate her muscular
thighs and booted legs.  She smiled as she put the cup down and turned to
one of her advisors.  "Bring in our captives."  She instructed and the man
nodded.  "They will learn that I Tracena, warrior princess and ruler of this
land will not be treated in this manner by Roman scum who think that their
power and arrogance can rule this place.  She rose to her feet as the line
of men was dragged in, their hands bound behind their backs.  Her advisor
stood at the side of the line.

"Which one is in charge, Natrielle?"  She asked as she walked up the line of
bedraggled soldiers.

"This one."  Natrielle, the bard and advisor, smiled tossing her chestnut
curls of hair.  She indicated the leader with her staff.  "I saw him giving
orders."  The men looked from one woman to the other.  Natrielle hit one of
them with her staff when he looked for too long at the way the short skirt
accentuated her long legs.

"Not bad."  The warrior princess walked over and looked the lean, bronzed
man over, admiring the way that a lock of fair hair, bleached even paler by
the son, fell into his pale blue eyes.  Then her gaze dipped lower to take
in the muscular legs.  She dropped into Latin.  "What is your name?"

"Go screw your horse."  The man responded and spat at her.  Queen Tracena
punched him in the face.  Then she reached for her chakram, pulling it from
her waist.

"That is not how one addresses Tracena, warrior princess."  Her voice was
softly chiding.  "I will enjoy teaching you manners, my lovely roman.
Prepare fires, we will sacrifice two of these to bring fortune on us and to
learn the will of the gods from their entrails."  Natrielle nodded and
ordered the others to make preparations.  "This one though."  She indicated
the blue eyed aristocrat.  "This one will remain.  I have some tension to
work off."

The men left with the other captives and Tracena studied her prisoner.  "Now
we will try again."   She said gathering up a long leather whip.  "What is
your name, slave?"

He spat again.  "I do not give my name to a barbarian whore."  He responded
and the queen smiled and reached for the fastenings, unfastening his metal
cuirass.

"You will, my little Caesar."  Her voice was controlled as she ran the edge
of the whip down his back.  "You will soon beg me and tell me everything I
want to know.  Then when you have done, if you are convincing then I will
keep you for my slave."  She sniffed the air and cracked the whip so that a
single red mark marred the smooth brown skin.  "Your name."  He remained
silent.  "Perhaps if I remove the part of your anatomy you use to think
with, you will talk."  Tracena trailed her chakram along his back, breaking
the skin.  "I understand that eunuchs are fashionable in some quarters."

The Roman swore again.  Tracena smiled.  "Oh yes it has been so long since I
have controlled a proper interrogation."  She sniffed the air again. "I go
to check on the fire.  There is too much paraffin, then I will return and
deal with you."

As she left the tent Tracena paused. Definitely too much paraffin used here.
  She frowned.  1st century Britain did not use paraffin, so why could she
smell it?

Tracy Vetter opened her eyes to the smell of smoke and fumes and the ringing
of her fire alarm.  The dream she had been having was right in one respect,
there was a fire.  Unfortunately it seemed to be in her flat and that was
far from ideal.  The smoke was starting to fill her room.  She dropped to
the floor and pulled a cotton scarf from a drawer and poured the glass of
water by her bed onto it.  Tying the wet scarf over her nose and mouth she
left the bedroom.  She crawled through the house to the front door of the
flat.  This seemed to be the source of the fire.

This was not a good thing at all and she looked at the origin of the flames.
  It appeared that someone had pushed paraffin soaked rags through her
letterbox and set them alight.  Come to think of it, why was she looking at
it?  She decided not to stay there and set off across the room to the fire
exit.  As she stepped through and onto the metal staircase that led down the
building she shivered at the cold night air.  Looking down she could see the
fire engines beginning to arrive.

Tracy sat in the fire station, telling her father to calm down, that she
didn't want to go to stay with him, that she was doing quite well.  She
thanked whatever gods looked after cops when she saw Natalie Lambert come
over to her and used the excuse to hang up on her father.

"Hey Tracy."  Nat smiled.  "I wondered if you wanted a bed, while this gets
fixed up."

"I'd love one."  Tracy smiled at the other woman.  "It shouldn't take long.
  Whoever it was they weren't very effective, so it should be cleaned up
quickly enough."

As Nat made them coffee Tracy considered her interrupted dreams.  Tracy
Vetter dominatrix strikes.  She wondered if there was a meaning to that,
apart from the fact that she had watched Xena just before bed.  Then again
Tracena, warrior princess, holding a certain Roman hostage was a new one on
her.  Tracy considered the dream.  She had certainly never had the figure
for those outfits and Natalie looked plain weird as Gabrielle.  Could have
been worse, at least Nick didn't turn up dressed as Joxer.  Then again, she
sometimes dreamed that she was in a James Bond film, being fed chocolates by
a naked Pierce Brosnan.  So maybe it was something obvious.  "Yeah Tracy.
Sometimes a whip is just a whip."  She said and looked at Sidney Lambert who
was coming over to see her.

"So how's the evening class?"  Nat asked and Tracy smiled.

"Good, all things considered."  Tracy smiled.  "Nice group of people, except
for one weird socialite.  We've been studying some interesting things."
Tracy grinned as Sidney decided he would rather be in her lap and settled
himself regally on her legs.  Tracy smiled and began to stroke him.

"You are honoured."  Natalie smiled.  "He won't lower himself to be friendly
with most people."

Sidney began to purr rhythmically.  "I guess some people just have it."
Tracy said and shook her head.  "Thanks for saving me from having to stay
with my father and the bimbo of the month."

"No problem."  Natalie smiled.  "Wasn't like I was doing anything."  Her
smile faded.

"Nick will come around."  Tracy looked at the downcast pathologist.  "He'll
get it."

"I'm just worried."  Natalie said and the other nodded.

"In case he moves on without telling you?"  Tracy said and Natalie was
surprised but nodded.  Tracy wondered.  Lacroix had told her about Nick in
confidence.  She had a feeling she wasn't meant to share that with anyone
else.  She wondered what to say.  "Have you considered joining him?"

"Of course."  Natalie said and her lips quirked.  "I don't think he would do
that.  Nick has some odd ideas about sin."  She looked at the other trying
to work out what Tracy knew.

"Yeah I worked out about Nick."  Tracy said and shrugged.  "It doesn't
matter.  Don't tell him."  She asked and Natalie looked at her and finally
nodded.  "I don't want him to feel obliged to tell me, I want him to trust
me of his own volition."  She sighed, she wanted to tell Natalie that they
would be joining the community in a year's time, that Lacroix fought
regularly to save her life and that he was doing something.  She would
definitely talk to Lacroix.

"Okay."  Natalie sighed.  "Nick should have told you at the start."  She
murmured and then smiled.  "I just hope he doesn't go.  It's pathetic but I
love him."

"I don't think he would.  I notice how he looks at you, how much he loves
you.  I think he is just scared, you know not wanting to make the first
move."  Sidney purred loudly as she scratched a difficult to reach spot.
"Or it could be he's afraid of the competition here."  Tracy indicated the
cat and Natalie laughed.  It was not a very funny joke but it eased the
tension and for the moment that was sufficient.

The End

1) The song performed as an encore is an old English folksong known as "The
Water is wide" or "oh waly waly" which originated in Somerset.  It's very
beautiful but also haunting and very unsettling.

2) If you recognise "Tracena, warrior princess" and "Natrielle" yes I did
borrow them.  I don't know who owns Xena and Gabrielle but it isn't me.  No
infringement of the copyright of the owner is intended.  I just couldn't
resist the idea.  Warped aren't I?

3) Not all of the views expressed by the characters involved accord with my
own.  For the record I have nothing against Americans so please don't flame
me.