One Man's Treasure

by Kim Colley

Copyright (c) 1998

 

DISCLAIMER: Forever Knight and its characters are the

property of Sony/Columbia/TriStar and James Parriott, et al. No

copyright infringement intended. 

 

"Nicholas. You remembered." Lacroix smiled as he accepted the brightly

wrapped box. He turned it in the light to admire the gleam of the silver

wrapping and gold ribbon and bow before getting down to the business of

opening his birthday present.

 

"I hope you like it," Nick said.

 

Lacroix spared a glance at his son. "You know I always love your presents . .

. well, most of them," he added, remembering a certain flaming stake.

 

With a flourish, he lifted the now bare boxtop off and pulled out the gift he

had fully expected to receive. He held it at arm's length a moment, hating to

remove it from the box, knowing the diminution in value such would entail.

However, these presents were to enjoy, and full enjoyment required contact.

Slipping a finger under the fold, he pulled the top of the smaller box up,

reached in and extracted his gift with a small sigh.

 

"Ice Dancer Barbie. How did you know I wanted to add this to my

collection?"

 

Nick smiled. "I noticed when you were at my place the other night, your

attention seemed to stray from our conversation when the commercial for this

came on. I had a hunch."

 

Lacroix ran a gentle finger over the doll's silky hair, a subtly calculating

expression on his face. Shaking himself slightly, he returned his attention to

his son.

 

"Thank you, Nicholas," he said simply.

 

Nick reached out a hand for the doll. "Here, let me add it to your display

cabinet."

 

Lacroix abruptly pulled the doll to his chest, out of Nick's reach. "No, that's

all right. I'll put her away myself."

 

Nick stood and moved toward the large, black-enameled hutch that stood

against the far wall of Lacroix's personal rooms at the Raven. "It's no

trouble," he said.

 

With vampiric speed, his master beat him to the cabinet and placed himself

before it protectively, barring Nick's way.

 

"No. The display is a mess. I -- I don't want you to see it this way. I'll take

care of it." He smiled coolly. "Trust me."

 

Nick nodded uncertainly, backing away. "Of course. Besides, I've got a lot of

paperwork back at the precinct to catch up on."

 

"Oh, really." Lacroix raised an eyebrow. "I thought your partner took care of

all that?"

 

"Well, she's been kind of upset with me, and the Captain ordered me to

handle it for a while."

 

"Ahh. Sloughing off the unpleasant tasks on others. How unlike you,

Nicholas."

 

Nick smiled sheepishly and reached for the doorknob behind his back. "Well.

Happy Birthday again."

 

Lacroix merely smiled his farewell.

 

 

 

 

Nick anxiously awaited the Nightcrawler's broadcast that evening. He did a

slapdash job of the paperwork until the familiar voice sounded in his

Walkman headphones, then grabbed his coat and took off. He was consumed

with curiosity about that cabinet. He had known his master to keep secrets

before, but always regarding their vampire natures, the vampire world. What

could that cabinet have to do with that? he wondered.

 

He kept the Caddy's radio tuned to CERK as he drove, to ensure that Lacroix

was really there, and not just running an old tape. He pulled into the alley

behind the Raven, and snuck in through the secret entrance. He took off his

leather shoes to make certain that sharp vampire ears would not detect his

footfalls as he padded towards his master's private rooms and the secret that

lay therein.

 

Holding his breath, he looked around before slowly, carefully turning the

doorknob to Lacroix's living room. He slipped in silently and stood waiting

at the doorway for some klew that would give away his master's presence.

None came. He tiptoed to the black lacquered cabinet and placed his hand on

the small brass knob. He hesitated just a second, then slowly opened the

doors.

 

He stared dumbfounded at the contents. All the Barbie dolls he had given

Lacroix were arrayed there, but not in their original condition. One on the far

left of the second shelf wore a familiar black, pinstriped pant suit and tie.

Another doll on the first shelf, toward the middle, wore a stylish

camel-colored cashmere pant suit, with matching loafers. All similarly

attired, and all - yes, all of the Barbie dolls had been changed in the same

way. Their long golden locks had been trimmed to a short, neat pageboy.

 

Nick's mind reeled. Why? And how? How did he know all of the outfits she

wore? Had he been following her, spying on her? As he gazed upward for an

answer, his eyes fell on an enclosed, inner cabinet on the top shelf. His heart

pounding, he reached up and pulled open its small doors. Inside, tiny track

lighting illuminated a scene that almost caused him to faint. Another

pageboyed doll, formerly Barbie, sat in a chair wearing a leather bustier and

dog collar, one hand raised. Draped across her legs for a spanking was a

naked GI Joe, with painted-in yellow eyes and white fangs.

 

"I should have known."

 

Nick whirled to find his master standing in the doorway. After sparing his son

a brief, accusatory glance, Lacroix hurried to the cabinet to survey the

damage. He pulled Trophy Girl Tracy, complete with black dress and lace

shawl, from the shelf and held her close to his face.

 

"Did he hurt you, my darling?" he asked her solicitously. He inspected her,

and the rest of his collection, quite carefully before returning his attention to

his errant companion. "I should have known you would come blundering back

in here, intruding on my privacy."

 

"But I - I," Nick stammered. "I don't understand."

 

"No, you wouldn't," Lacroix sneered. "And I thought you were supposed to be

doing paperwork tonight?"

 

Nick shook his head confusedly, trying to rattle the pieces of his mind that

still remained back into place. "I am, but -- "

 

"No. I have grown tired of your excuses, as has my beloved. It is time to start

pulling your load, Nicholas, and stop putting it all off on," he spared a soft

smile at the doll he still held close, "on your partner."

 

When Nick simply stood there, staring at him, Lacroix bared his fangs in a

fierce snarl. "Go!" he commanded.

 

Nick flew out the door. Lacroix heard his departure through the hallways of

the club, waiting until he was sure that they were alone. He turned then to the

perkily pretty doll in his hands.

 

"You know, I'm afraid my boorish son may have sullied you, my darling. I

think I'd best give you a little bath."

 

He hummed softly as he carried his treasure to the sunken bathtub,

envisioning a long and pleasant evening.

 

FINIS.

 

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