Another Lonely Night
by Deanie
February 2000

Disclaimer: Nick and Natalie don't belong to me. They belong to James Parriott, Barney Cohen, Sony/TriStar. I'm just borrowing them for a while...and they'll be returned when I'm done putting them (well, mainly Nick) through the emotional wringer. This story is based on the FK episode "Only The Lonely" written by Susan Martin and scenes from it are not mine either. I'm not making any money off of this, so don't sue. No copyright infringement is intended.

Many thanks to the people who helped me with this story. Teri, Caroline, and Teresa, who answered my emergency call for grammar help. And most of all, this story is dedicated to my wonderful beta readers, Valerie and Ash. I couldn't have done it without you.

This story is told from Nick's POV, after the end of "Only the Lonely."

***

But somehow I can't believe that anything should happen
I know where I belong and nothing's going to happen

What could a guy like me ever really offer?
She's perfect as she can be, why should I even bother?
-- from "She's So High" by Tal Bachman

She turned away. I couldn't believe that she just turned away. We were so close, just inches away from our first real kiss, and then she...shifted.

For so long, I had been tempted to the edge of my control by fantasies I didn't dare admit aloud. Always struggling to remain "just friends" -- the safest way for us to be together, even if it wasn't what I truly wanted. But in that one moment, I couldn't resist the temptation. As it turned out, she could.

I had never been as scared before as I was when I thought about Natalie, out there alone, who-knows-where, with a killer. I was in a desperate race to find her before he hurt her, terrified that I would be too late and I would lose her. So much of who I had become in this incarnation had been shaped by her faith in me. Without Natalie, I would be lost; I wouldn't know what to do. So when I began to imagine finding her lifeless body... I started to lose it.

The opening of the lift door jarred me out of my reverie. Walking into the loft, I stopped, staring through the open blinds at the soft glow of the impending sunrise. I grabbed the remote control for the shutters and shut out the day. By now, Natalie was home, safe in her own apartment, getting some much needed sleep. She had hours before her flight left, taking her to a fun-filled desert resort vacation. She deserved the time off. She needed time to get away from the stress in her life and recuperate from her recent ordeal. Still, I would miss her every moment she was gone.

I'd been alive eight hundred years, yet never truly felt alive until I saw her. I had merely existed, wandering alone in the endless darkness. Searching for a cure I was unlikely to ever find I was unable to stop looking, following up on every remote possibility. Those who had once been my family now thought I was crazy. So I roamed the night, alone in my quest -- only enduring life, never living it. Despite the experience of all those years, my life was meaningless until we were together...until the night I met Natalie.

Striding into the kitchen, I pulled the familiar green bottle out of the refrigerator and spit the cork into the sink. Foregoing a glass, I took a deep swig of the thick, salty liquid. I needed this now; the blood was soothing, calming the emotional injuries the way it had healed the physical ones that fateful night...

I had slowly awakened to a half-conscious state, unsure of where I was or what had happened. In a fog, I could feel my body healing. I knew that whatever had occurred must have been bad. I faintly heard a soft voice, felt a gentle touch on my cheek and I couldn't remember when I had last felt such tenderness. It had felt so good, so safe and comforting; briefly calming the beast within before the craving for blood became too strong to ignore. I could smell it there in the room -- both the stale odor of packaged blood and the alluring fragrance sweeping through her veins. I struggled to control the lust for the blood my body so desperately needed to heal. But in the end, I lost the battle...and leapt from the table.

She was so beautiful, standing there under the morgue's harsh fluorescent lights, eyes wide with shock because her patients didn't usually walk away from the autopsy table. She hadn't run screaming from the room like I had expected her to. Amazingly, she held my gaze as she asked "Who are you?" and "What are you?" I felt the connection between us but didn't know what to do about it. I was too consumed by my own needs to even be able to invent an explanation she would believe. So I simply said that she didn't need to know... I was something very different from her.

I knew that for the first time, I had found someone I wanted to share my existence with. I was drawn to her, and beyond all logic I found myself wishing I could have told her everything, about my life in darkness and how I desperately wished to rejoin the world in the light...

I told myself that even if I confessed my inhuman nature, she never would have been able to understand. We were too different. How could her goodness comprehend my evil? And then she reached out to touch me...

I shook off the memories. I was merely making excuses, now, for why I could never admit my feelings. We had come so far since that bizarre beginning, but still this wall stood between us. It had to be, for both our sakes.

Despite all our problems, the thought of her, alone and vulnerable, stalked by the menace who had already murdered four women... I had felt the beast rising inside, wanting to tear Roger to shreds and rip him limb from limb. I had wanted him to suffer for the terror he must have been putting her through. But I hadn't given in to the need for revenge; not until she was all right.

When I arrived at the greenhouse, I saw Roger standing over Natalie. She was so still, not moving at all. I fought back a moment of panic as I struggled to hear her heartbeat. If that bastard had killed her, I would have drained every last drop of his blood without regret. Then, I heard it... the tell-tale sound of her heartbeat -- faint but definitely present. She was alive! But he had hurt her; I could smell her blood. Nothing mattered but her safety, so I grabbed Roger and tossed him out of the way. I remembered hearing the crash of glass as he flew through the window. Then, I cradled her body in my arms, needing to touch her, to reassure myself she was indeed alive. She was motionless, unconscious in my lap, but she was warm. She was breathing, and her heart was beating. I hadn't been to late.

I clutched her closer, wishing I could hold her forever. I wanted to place myself between her and danger for as long as she lived. I would have given anything, even my immortal life, to protect her and keep her safe. But I knew that I couldn't lock her away forever in a tower. She'd never let me. So, it had to be enough to know that I had saved her this time.

I was so relieved that she was safe after being in such deadly peril. I realized then that if I had been just a few minutes later I might have lost any opportunity to ever hold her again. I would have never known the feeling of her lips on mine, soft and warm and welcoming. Then we were alone in the interview room at the station, and she was so close. She was still a little shaky, but she had never looked more beautiful. Her scent called to me. I couldn't resist the lure of just one kiss, so I moved closer.

This was it. I had finally decided to throw caution to the wind, to dare, to act on feelings long suppressed. But she had decided it wasn't what she wanted. I didn't know why. I was confused and hurt then, and I still am now. I thought she cared about me the way I cared about her, that she also dreamt of being more than 'just friends.' Maybe I was wrong, because she was the one to prevent our kiss, not me. For once, I was the one willing to take our relationship to the next level.

I sighed, taking another swig of the tasteless cow's blood. "Relationship" was too ambitious a word for what we shared. It wasn't like Nat and I had anything that even vaguely resembled a romantic relationship. On the contrary, we'd spent years denying it, more vehemently than ever over the past few days. Natalie had started dating someone else, started _kissing_ someone else. And I, in my infinite wisdom, told her I thought it was a good idea and that I wouldn't stand in her way. What was I thinking? How could I have said that when I really wanted to tell her not to see anyone else because the thought of her with another man made me crazy? But I didn't... instead, I told her I was concerned, that I felt protective, like towards a sister. A *sister.* Brilliant. If there was anyone I felt less than sisterly towards, it was Natalie.

Then again, I couldn't exactly come out and tell her I felt protective because I wished that I were the one holding and kissing her. I wanted to be the one she thought about every moment of the day, the one she dreamed about. I longed to be her lover, to hold her warm body in my arms so tightly not even air could come between us. I yearned to feel my hands gliding over her silky skin, as I inhaled the scent that was hers alone. I needed to taste her lips, lick the sweat off of her salty skin, to...

To taste her blood. More than anything, I craved the perfumed liquid in her veins. We couldn't have a real relationship because the love and desire I felt for her triggered the bloodlust. If Nat and I became lovers, I could kill her. I wanted her so desperately, with such ferocity that I didn't think I could make love to her and still hang on to enough control to reign in the beast.

I set the bottle down on the counter in disgust. If Nat had seen me gulping all that blood, she would have been disappointed. Once more, I had returned to the blood. Once again, I hadn't been doing my part of our search for the cure.

Maybe all this was a delusion and I was merely projecting my feelings on to her. Perhaps her love wasn't strong and true and her passion didn't burn as mine did...only for each other. Her research, trying to cure my unique 'disease,' was the only reason we even became friends. She had told me that solving a puzzle was its own reward. How far would she have gone with her scientific curiosity? Would she have feigned feelings for a lonely vampire to keep his hope alive? How far would she have gone to keep me from leaving before she found a cure? She wasn't the kind of person to lie or even mislead, but maybe she had mistaken her scientific fascination for a personal one. Perhaps it was the challenge she loved, and if I were to become human, she would no longer love me.

Who was I trying to fool? Myself? I was trying to pretend that she didn't really love me so that I could justify my inability to pursue a relationship. She loved me. I loved her. I never thought I'd be acknowledging my love, even to myself. But I could never admit it anywhere but in my mind, because admitting my love would destroy her.

I had to let her go, to give her the chance to move beyond her feelings for me and find another relationship. She deserved so much more than the love of someone like me. She should be able to have a normal life and meet an ordinary man who would love and cherish her for his mortal lifetime. Someone to love who she could grow old with, someone she could walk with in the sun. She deserved to have a family -- bright-eyed children with her chestnut curls running around on the front lawn on a lazy summer day. She needed to be free of the danger I brought into her life...free from my tenuous control over my beast, from the danger the Enforcers posed.

She deserved so much more than I could ever give her...which was why I told her I was happy she was dating Roger, happy she had found someone new. It had nearly killed me to utter those words, knowing full well that they were a total lie. I wanted her to be mine for all eternity; but more than that, I wanted her to be happy, and she could never be happy with me. I had to be strong, had to let her go.

But in giving her her freedom, I had hurt her even more. I heard the tears she was barely holding back, the controlled anguish she tried to hide. I was doomed to hurt her, no matter what I did. And I didn't know how to change that.

So, in the end, maybe Natalie was right. I was disappointed when she turned away, but it was for the best. Better not to know how such bliss would feel than to taste heaven and have to give it up. Better not to know what I must keep denying. A relationship between the two of us couldn't possibly work. I've got to keep reminding myself of that... say it enough so that maybe I'll start believing myself.

Instead of letting her know how I felt, I had simply held her, enfolded her in my embrace and cradled her to me. Reassured myself that she was whole and safe and nothing had hurt her.

But no matter what, I had to keep the wall in place. I couldn't let my feelings show. If I admitted what I felt for Natalie, I would be unable to control myself. I would give into the impulses, the urges that told me to pull her into my arms, to feel her soft body crushed against mine. To take her lips, taste their sweetness. To claim her as my own...to drink her essence, savor her fragrant blood.

One sip could never be enough. That was my greatest fear -- one day, I wouldn't be able to control my desires. I would drink from her and not be able to stop, the beast raging until she was drained. She would die by my hand, and the part of me who loved her would be helpless, watching the tragedy but unable to control the beast. If that ever happened it would be my last night on earth, for I could not face this world knowing I had destroyed that which is most precious to me.

To get close to her would be to destroy her. So we must remain as we are... 'just friends.' Even though it killed me inside.