Permission to archive "The Curare Incident" is hereby given to the
following sites:

- Mel Moser's Archive http://www.fkfanfic.com
- The new JADFE Archives
- Good Girl / Bad Boy: Tracy and Vachon Forever



The Curare Incident, Part 1 of 7
---
Disclaimers:

Forever Knight and its characters were created by James Parriott
and Barney Cohen. Copyright lies with Sony Entertainment.
This is a work of fanfiction, no money has exchanged hands.
No copyright infringement is intended.

This story contains explicit sexual scenes between consenting
adults; consider yourself warned.

Many thanks to my beta readers, Cloud and deb, for pointing out
my errors, and encouraging me so much. Thanks, guys!
And a special thank you to the person who helped with the Spanish
parts. She does not wish to be credited by name. ¡Muchas Gracias!

[] denotes translations

---

With a flourish, Grace pushed the filing cabinet drawer closed.

"All right! I'm finished with the filing, and now I'm out for
lunch!" she declared.

"Bring back a double cheeseburger for me?" Natalie called after
her retreating back. Grace waved to indicate a yes.

With her assistant gone, Natalie Lambert tried once more to
concentrate on the report she was writing. So far, she had only
succeeded in getting distracted every time she started anew. This
time was no exception.

"Alone at last, Doctor?" a slightly rough male voice spoke into
her ear.

Natalie nearly jumped out of her skin.

"What the? Vachon? What are you doing here?" she exclaimed.

The Spanish vampire shrugged and gave her a crooked little smile.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did, finding a cure to the
fever, and all that. And, uhm..."
Vachon let the sentence trail away and let his hand, which he
had pressed to his right side, drop, revealing a torn tee shirt
and a large bloodstain under his leather jacket.

"Oh my...what happened?" Natalie jumped up from her chair. "Never
mind. Let me see the wound." Even her gentle touch made Vachon flinch.

"Careful, doctor. This hurts", he hissed between clenched teeth.

"This should have healed already, but you're still bleeding. I
need to get a better look at the wound, while you tell me how you
got it", she said, indicating the autopsy table.

The vampire nodded and tried to shrug out of his leather jacket,
but the pain in his side intensified, making him grimace.

"Here, let me help you." Natalie helped him out of the stiff
garment, taking care not to jar the wound.

"Some stupid mortals started a fight. I tried to break it up when
one of them drew a knife." Slowly and painfully, Vachon climbed
upon the table while Natalie placed the jacket on her chair and
started to prepare her instruments.

"He stabbed you?" she asked, looking up from the tray.

Vachon threw the tray an uneasy glance. "Yeah. The damn blade
broke off. I think it got stuck in the wound."

"Ouch. That must have hurt."

Vachon grimaced. "Still does."

"We'll take care of that in a moment." Natalie held up a syringe,
filled with a clear liquid. Vachon watched in morbid fascination
as a glistening drop formed on the needles point and slowly slid
down the length of the needle.

Catching his nervous look, Natalie smiled. "Scared?" she asked with
a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"I hate needles", Vachon muttered.

"Just give me your arm."

Reluctantly, Vachon held out his arm.

"You know, you're acting as if this was a wooden stake."
Natalie swabbed the crook of his elbow with an alcoholic pad.
Vachon chose to ignore her comment, and instead nodded in the
direction of the pad.

"You don't need to do that", he observed.

"Force of habit. At least with patients who still move", Natalie
quipped and quickly inserted the needle. "See, that wasn't so
bad", she said as she withdrew the syringe.

"Hardly felt it at all", Vachon admitted. "Uh... what was it?

"Curare. Don't worry, it can't kill you guys."

Vachon blinked. The throbbing pain in his side ebbed away,
leaving a blessed numbness. The vampire let out a sigh.

"Feeling better?"

"Uh-uh." Vachon nodded an affirmative, looking very relieved
indeed.

Natalie chuckled and patted his cheek; his three day stubble felt
rough against the palm of her hand. "You better lie down, before
the stuff really hits your system."

"What do you... oh!" Vachon grabbed the rim of the autopsy table
when the room suddenly tilted and spun before his eyes. "This
is... potent stuff", he managed, and giggled. "I feel like I'm flying.
Only I'm not."

"Well, you should know how that feels." Natalie placed her hands on
his shoulders and gently pushed him down on the table. "Now let me pull
the blade out."

"Sure, Doc." Vachon's speech was starting to slur, too.


---

End of part 1


The Curare Incident, part 2 of 7

---

Tracy Vetter waved a folder in front of Nick's face to get her
partner's attention.

"Hmm?" Knight grunted questioningly.

"Nick, have you been listening at all? I said I'll drop this off
at the morgue on my way home."

"Sure. Go ahead. I will catch up with you later", he mumbled,
eyes fixed on the computer screen.

Rolling her eyes and groaning in frustration, Tracy picked up her
bag and left. *Men*, she thought.


---


The drive to the morgue was short and uneventful. Tracy parked
her too-practical Ford Taurus in front of the building and went
inside, waving to Grace who was just on her way out.

The older woman smiled, waved back, and called: "I'm bringing
back lunch, Tracy. Want some?"

"No, thanks, I'll only be a minute."

She continued down the corridor at a brisk pace, eager to reach
Natalie's office and drop off the file. After that, Tracy would
go home to freshen up and then meet Vachon at the church.
Thinking of the new dress that waited for her at home, Tracy
smiled to herself. A certain Spanish vampire with a severe
commitment allergy was in for a big surprise tonight. There was
no way he would be able to resist her once he saw her in that
outfit. Undead or not, Javier Vachon was a helpless victim of
testosterone, and Tracy Vetter was going to take advantage of
this fact tonight.

Tracy opened the door to Natalie's office - and stopped dead in
her tracks. There on the autopsy table was the object of her
affection. Tracy dropped the folder and gaped at the tableau
in front of her, too shocked to speak.

"Aagh!" Natalie almost dropped her instruments when the papers
hit the floor. She spun around and met Tracy's shocked gaze with
her own. "Tracy! Do you always sneak up on people like that? You
almost gave me a coronary."

"Vachon?! Nat??!" Tracy squeaked.

The vampire lifted his head from the table the fraction of an
inch. Funny how difficult moving became when you felt like you
were floating in jelly. He also had a hard time focusing his
eyes on Tracy. "Hi Trace. Iss not wot ya ss - think, sweetie", he
slurred, and giggled.

*Sweetie?* Tracy thought, incredulously.

*Think fast*, Natalie thought to herself. "Uh... I take it you
guys know each other?"

"You can say that again, Natalie. Remember the plane crash?"
Tracy shook her head. "Of course you do. Well, you could say
we first met at the crash site. Natalie Lambert, meet J. D.
Valdez, a. k. a. the missing corpse."

Natalie chuckled. "I know what you mean." The next moment, her
eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. There's more, is
there? You know about his.. ah.. special condition, don't you?"

Tracy stared at her and nodded.

"What happened to Vachon?" she asked, concern evident in her face
and voice. Stepping closer to the table, she took the vampire's
hand in her own.

Vachon smiled up at her."Dinna know ya cared, baby", he murmured.

"Of course I do", Tracy replied softly, brushing a stray lock
of hair from his forehead.

"It's nothing to worry about, Tracy", Natalie tried to reassure
her. "He has a knife blade stuck between his ribs, nothing that
would bother a vampire for long. Once I've removed it, the wound
will heal in less than an hour."

"But he seems so out of it", Tracy replied, looking into Vachon's
unfocused gaze. The vampire's pupils were dilated, his eyes
glassy.

"I gave him something for the pain." Natalie waved her hand in a
vague gesture. "There aren't many things they react to at all, so
it's the strong stuff or nothing, I'm afraid. And nothing is not
an option for me if my patient has fangs and may really like me,
if you get my drift", she finished with a wry smile. "Not that I
would worry too much about that with Vachon here. He's a real
pussycat compared to some others I've met. But it's easier for
him. And easier for the surgeon when the patient doesn't flinch."

Snapping on a fresh pair of surgical gloves, Natalie took the
scalpel and set to digging the knife blade out of Vachon's side.
Tracy studiously avoided looking in that direction. She did not
need to see Nat slice into Vachon's flesh with a sharp instrument
even if he did not feel a thing. The thought alone made her
slightly nauseous, so she busied herself holding his hand and
stroking the silky strands of his hair. Vachon sighed and closed
his eyes.

"S' nice", he muttered sleepily.

"How do you know about them... him?" Tracy finally asked.

"Well, I had a patient wake up on me right here in this room.
Not Vachon. Someone else. Nearly scared me to death."
Natalie drew a deep breath. Should she tell Tracy the truth about
her partner? No, she decided. She could not go behind Nick's
back. "I treated him, we became friends, and suddenly I found
myself having a lot more patients. I guess I'm the only doctor to
the undead in the whole of Ontario. It's a good thing these guys
are so healthy, or I wouldn't have time for my regular job."
She dug a little deeper, turning the scalpel slightly
"Gotcha!" With a triumphant cry, Natalie held up a wicked looking,
bloodied piece of metal. She grinned.
"Now, I'll just patch you up, and you're ready to go."

"Doesn't he need stitches?" Tracy interjected.

"If he were mortal, yes, but vampires heal so quickly, it would
be kind of superfluous." Natalie shrugged and slapped a patch of
gauze on the wound,securing it with adhesive tape. "By tomorrow,
he won't even have a scar left."

Nudging Vachon's shoulder, she spoke into his ear: "You're all
done. Time to wake up and go home."

"Mmhhh?" Vachon opened one eye.
"Wasn't 'sleep", he mumbled. "Juss ressn' m' eyes."
He yawned. "Wh'n will ya git th' damn thing outta m' side?"

Natalie chuckled. "I already did. You are ready to go, Vachon",
she replied, enunciating each word carefully.

The vampire nodded drowsily. "'S nice."

Laughing, Natalie gestured to Tracy to help Vachon into an
upright position. The vampire offered no resistance, but very
little help, either.

"Think you gave him too much?" Tracy inquired.

"Nah." Natalie shrugged it off. "Well, maybe a little. But isn't
he adorable, all drugged up and muzzy like this?" She patted
Vachon's cheek.

The adorable fanged one tried his best to glower at her; all he
managed, however, was a pout. "Ah take 'ception ta that. 'M
purrfectly sober." Swinging his legs over the table rim, he fell
face forward into Tracy.

"Yeah, right", Natalie muttered under her breath. "How do you
feel?"

"Bit woozy", Vachon mumbled, his face buried in Tracy's
shoulder.

He slid from the table and tried to stand on rather wobbly legs.
Luckily he was already leaning against Tracy; the young detective
wrapped her arms around him and kept him upright when his balance
failed him.

"Hmmm... I like that", Vachon mumbled against Tracy's shoulder in
a drunken voice. Suddenly, his vampire senses kicked in, warning
him to take cover. He lifted his head, squinting against the
bright lights. "Somebody's coming", he declared.

"Oh my god... Grace!" Natalie cried. "She must not see you here."
Nat frantically looked around for a place to hide Vachon. Where
could one hide an intoxicated 5 ft 10 vampire?

"The cooler! Quick, get in there!"

---
End of part 2



The Curare Incident, part 3 of 7

---

Natalie took Vachon's elbow, and together the two women propelled
the Spaniard into the cooler.

"S'cold in here", Vachon protested.

"It's not for long." Tracy pressed her lips to his in a quick
kiss and closed the door, leaving Vachon in the dark room.

The door opened again, and in flew his leather jacket, landing
neatly in Vachon's face before dropping to the floor. The door
closed, and Vachon was alone in the dark cooler again. Just him,
his jacket, and the corpses.

"S'dark, too", the vampire observed somewhat belatedly,
staggering into a gurney and almost falling over it's occupant.

"¡Joder!" [Fuck!] Vachon cursed. "Move outta the way, buddy."
He nudged the corpse, but the dead body did not obediently rise
and make room for one very loaded and slightly drowsy vampire.

"Oh, yeah, you're dead, right? Real dead." He thought about it
for a moment. "Yech!" Absently, Vachon wiped his hands on his
jeans. "Need some light in here. Guy can't see in the dark.
Not this kind of dark", he mused. Wavering slightly on his
feet, he stumbled into the nearest wall. "¡Mierda!" [Shit!]
Vachon decided he had enough of walking into corpses - and
walls - for the moment and set down on the floor, propping
his back against the wall.

Outside, Tracy and Natalie leaned against the door to the cooler
when Grace stepped into the lab.

"Oh, hi, Grace", Natalie greeted her nervously. "You're back
early."

"Thought you were hungry, girl", Grace replied. She placed a
take-out box on Natalie's desk. "There you go."

"You're right, I'm starving!" Natalie fairly leaped to
retrieve her dinner. "Oh, Grace, I almost forgot. Could you
run down to forensics and ask about the results in the Wilson
case? I've tried calling them, but you know how it is. When
the lines are not busy already, the guys down there don't bother
to pick up." She gave her assistant a nervous smile.

Grace threw her hands in the air. "Yes, yes, I know all about
it, don't you worry." She cocked her head. "You know, if I
didn't know you better, I might think you are trying to get
rid of me. You're not hiding something in the cooler, are
you? Or someone?" The large woman gave Natalie a conspirational
wink.

"What are you thinking, Grace!" Natalie huffed. "Kindly get
your mind out of the gutter before you give Detective Vetter
a completely wrong impression about working in a morgue."

Tracy giggled nervously. If Grace had any idea how close she
was to the truth... and yet, how far from it.

"Oh, I think she had the right impression from the start, didn't
you, Detective?" Grace grinned at Tracy.

"Grace, there is no living human being in that cooler", Natalie
admonished. "Now, I really need that report."

"Alright, I can take a hint." With another wink, this time in
Tracy's direction, Grace left.

Natalie leaned against her desk. "Oh my... that was close."

Tracy was shaking with laughter. "No living human being. Right.
Vachon will just love that one."

Natalie grinned at her. "I bet he will. Now let's get him out of
there, before he is frozen solid."

"Yeah, I don't want to take home a vampsicle", Tracy quipped. At
Natalie's laughter, she added: "Talk about being cool..."

The two women wiped tears of laughter from their eyes. Tracy,
however, sobered quickly, and put her hand on Natalie's
shoulder.

"You know how long I wished I could share this with someone?
It's so crazy. When I met Vachon, my whole world changed. I
changed. And I couldn't talk about it to anybody."

Natalie looked into the younger woman's eyes. "You and me both",
she replied. "Come on, we don't have much time."

She opened the cooler, and they both went in. Vachon was still
sitting on the floor, with his back to the wall. He looked about
ready to nod off.

---
End of part 3


The Curare Incident, part 4 of 7

---

Natalie and Tracy walked over to Vachon and helped the
vampire to his feet.

"You left me alone in here", he complained. "It's cold
in here. And dark." He nodded for emphasis.

"Poor baby", Natalie crooned. "But you wouldn't want Grace
to find you here, would you? You're in no shape to whammy
anybody right now."

Tracy wrapped her arm around Vachon's middle. She barely
suppressed a shiver. His body felt colder than usual against
hers. "Come on, I'll take you home. You look like you could
use a good night's sleep."

"Ahm a vampire", Vachon slurred. "Ah sleep days."

"A good day's sleep, then", Tracy amended. She did not want
to start a quarrel with him as long as he was in that state.

Mollified, Vachon leaned against her. He felt dizzier and more
tired by the minute. Plus, he could hardly feel his own body.

"You're taking him to your place, Tracy?" Natalie asked.
Why was she not surprised?

"Yes, I think it's better. Why?"

"Do you have enough blood in the fridge to feed him? He'll be
hungrier than usual in the morning", Natalie explained.

"Oh. Well, I can always swing by his place and pick some
up."

"Don't bother." Natalie walked over to the refrigerator, taking
two packs of blood out of it. Almost as an afterthought, she
added a third. "Give me your bag."

Reluctantly, Tracy handed her the bag which she had slung
over her shoulder. "Are you sure this is okay? It won't be
missed?"

"Nah." Natalie dismissed the thought. "After all, I write the
reports. And hey, these are for emergencies." She waved a hand at
Vachon, who was almost asleep on his feet. "If this isn't an
emergency, I don't know what is."

Tracy gave her a warm smile that turned into a smirk.
"Now I know why you answer the phone with 'Natalie's bed and
breakfast'", she giggled.

Chuckling, Natalie took Vachon's leather jacket and draped it
over his shoulders. "I couldn't call it 'Community ER', could I?"

Vachon looked at her from beneath heavy eyelids. "Gracias,
doctora" [Thank you, doctor], he mumbled. Yawning, he blinked a
couple of times.

"Vachon? Are you okay?" Tracy inquired.

"Estoy cansado" [I'm tired], he replied.

"What?" Natalie looked at the vampire, puzzled by his sudden
inability to speak English. She did not understand Spanish and
had no idea what Vachon was saying.

"He said he's tired", Tracy translated. Blushing slightly, she
admitted: "I learned some Spanish in high school."

"Better take him home, before he falls asleep on his feet",
Natalie suggested.

"Right." Tracy nudged Vachon; the vampire obediently stumbled
forward.

Natalie shook her head at the sight. "I love my job, but it's
nice to see someone leave under their own power once in a while",
she deadpanned.

"Do you really think he counts?" Tracy shot back. Smiling, she
led Vachon out of the building and to her car. It took some
judicious juggling on Tracy's part to retrieve her car keys
without either dropping her bag or letting go of Vachon, who
leaned against the car, but seemed intent on assuming a more
horizontal position. She finally managed to open the passenger
door and help Vachon into the seat. "Come on, don't fall asleep
on me just yet", she entreated.

"Hmmm?" Vachon lifted his head slightly and stared at her with
glassy eyes.

"Por favor, no te duermas aún" [Please, don't fall asleep yet], she
repeated in Spanish.

The vampire blinked. "Vale" [Okay], he murmured. "Voy a
intentarlo." [I'll try.] His head fell forward. Tracy closed the
door with a sigh and walked around the car to get into the
drivers' seat. How was she ever going to bring Vachon into her
apartment? She definitely could not carry him up the stairs if he
fell asleep.

---
End of part 4


The Curare Incident, Part 5 of 7

---

Vachon was barely awake by the time they arrived at
Tracy's apartment building. Tracy parked the car and
got out. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she stepped
around the car and opened the passenger door. The
vampire was slumped in his seat.

"Come on, Vachon, we're there", she said. Taking his
shoulders, she turned him around so he faced the open
door. Vachon mumbled something under his breath. Tracy
took his face in both her hands. "Wake up! I can't
carry you."

"Huh?" he replied. "Tracy, mi querida." [Tracy, my
beloved.] He gave her a drunken smile.

"Can you walk?" Tracy looked into his eyes, trying to
determine if he understood her at all.

"Walk? 'Course I can walk", Vachon slurred. He set his
feet on the ground and heaved himself out of the car.
Swaying, he stood, one hand on the car's roof to steady
himself.

Tracy took his free arm and slung it over her shoulder.
"Here, I'll help you. We'll take this slow and easy,
okay, Vachon?"

"'Kay." Vachon looked down at his feet. "'s funny, ya
know. Can't feel m' feet."

"That's the curare. Come on, I'll take you upstairs."
She gently pulled him towards the door. Obediently,
Vachon stumbled along. His head was spinning so badly
that he could not seem to concentrate even on the simple
task of putting one foot in front of the other.

By the time they reached Tracy's floor, the young
detective was drenched in sweat. Vachon's knees suddenly
buckled, and the vampire crashed into the wall, pulling
Tracy with him.

"Vachon! Come on, it's only a few steps more. You can do
that, right?" Tracy tried to coax Vachon to get up
again.

"Now, what is that ruckus in the middle of the night?
Tracy Vetter, you should be ashamed, bringing home
strange men at this ungodly hour!"

Oh, no, Tracy thought. Not this, too. But whoever
listened to the prayers of cops and their vampire
friends seemed otherwise occupied tonight.
She was alone with an intoxicated vampire and the nosy
neighbour from hell.

"Mrs. Crenshaw! It's not what it looks like."

Mrs. Crenshaw harumphed. Her disapproving glare
made Tracy cringe.
"If my dear George, God rest his soul, was still with
us, this would not be happening!" the good neighbour
declared. "Drunken men, in this house, in the middle
of the night! What is this world coming to?"

"Please, Mrs. Crenshaw... Gladys... Vachon isn't drunk.
He's injured. I just brought him home from the ER",
Tracy wheedled.

"Really. He should have stayed in the hospital, then."
Despite her harsh words, Gladys' expression softened
somewhat. Tracy knew then that her posturing was just
that. "He saved a life tonight, but he got stabbed in
the process. The doctor gave him something for the pain, and it's
making him drowsy", Tracy continued. "He didn't want to
stay, though. He hates hospitals. You see, his best friend
died only a few weeks ago."

"Oh, the poor dear!" Gladys exclaimed. "Of course you were
right to take care of him. Here, let me help."

Gotcha!, Tracy thought. For all her bluster, Gladys Crenshaw
still had a soft heart. She was the kind of woman who would
lecture you on today's fashion when you caught a cold,
and how unhealthy these jeans and short skirts were, and
then cook up enough chicken soup for a whole battalion.
She also had an amazingly dark sense of humour.
A little bending of the truth would not hurt her.

The two women helped the nearly unconscious vampire
to his feet and led him to Tracy's apartment.
Once inside, they manoeuvred Vachon into the bedroom.
Mrs. Crenshaw quickly pulled back the covers,
and they helped him onto the bed. Vachon immediately
keeled over and was sound asleep even before his
head hit the pillow.

Tracy deftly removed his boots and socks, and was reaching
for the covers when Mrs. Crenshaw stopped her.
"You cannot let him sleep in his clothes like this, my dear.
It must be terribly uncomfortable. And it would ruin your sheets,
too." She pulled the torn, blood-soaked tee shirt over Vachon's
head; the vampire did not stir. Dropping the tee shirt, she reached
for the waist band of his jeans and undid the button fly.
"Oh my!" she exclaimed. "What a unique answer to the boxers
or briefs question!"

Tracy blushed beet red when she realised what Mrs. Crenshaw
was saying. "Gladys", she squeaked.

"Oh, hush, Tracy. I was married, you know. I'm sure your friend
has nothing I haven't seen before." That said, Mrs. Crenshaw
pulled the jeans off Vachon. "Well, you certainly have no reason
to complain. Your boyfriend may not be as well endowed as my
dear George was, God rest his soul, but then again, who is."

Tracy blushed an even deeper red. "He's not my boyfriend",
she insisted.

Mrs. Crenshaw pulled up the sheets and comforter around Vachon.
"Really, dear. I'm not blind. I've seen this young man come to
you at all times. Oh, don't think you haven't been discrete. I'm
a nosy old woman. I see more and hear more than most people. More
than is good for me, really." Mrs. Crenshaw gave Tracy a warm
smile. "I'll be gone, now. You take care of your friend."
With a pat on Tracy's cheek, she left the apartment, quietly
closing the door behind her.

Tracy gathered Vachon's clothes up and threw them into the
laundry basket. Going into the bathroom, she took off her own
clothes and stepped into the shower. Tracy allowed the hot water
to run down her back and soothe her tired muscled. After a few
minutes, she turned the water off and towelled herself dry before
slipping into a thin satin night-gown. Her new outfit was still
on a hanger on the bathroom door. She threw it a longing glance.
No, this was definitely not the way she had wanted this night to
end. She walked over to her bag, which she had left behind the
front door, and took out the blood packs. They wouldn't do Vachon
any good if she did not keep them refrigerated, so she placed them
in the fridge. Top shelf, next to the bananas. Last she checked her
blackout curtains, making sure they were closed all the way.
Barbecued vampire wasn't her idea of a morning treat. That done,
Tracy stretched and yawned. For a moment, she considered sleeping
on the couch. After all, Vachon was in her bed. Naked. No, she
decided, she would never get a decent rest on the couch unless
she folded it out, and she was too tired to do that tonight.
Having made her decision, Tracy climbed into the bed next to
Vachon, leaving the sheet between them for modesty's sake.
Snuggling up to his cool body, she quickly fell asleep.

---
End of part 5


The Curare Incident, part 6 of 7

---

Vachon lingered in that precious state between sleep and
wakefulness. The first thing he became aware of was the
sweet aroma of apricots and calla lilies filling his nostrils.
Tracy's scent. He inhaled deeply, savouring it, when he felt
the warm weight across his chest. He slowly opened his eyes
to find Tracy nestled against his side, one arm draped over
his chest. He blinked a few times to clear his head. What was
Tracy doing in his bed? Not that he was complaining. He found
he liked waking up to her scent, her nearness. But the
question remained: How did Tracy end up in his bed? Vachon
frowned. No, wait, that wasn't his bed. It was Tracy's. In
her bedroom. In her apartment. Okay. So he was in Tracy's
bed, in her apartment, and he had no memory of how he got
here. Must have been some party, Javs old boy, he thought
wryly.

He turned his head slightly. His clothes were nowhere in
sight, but his tee shirt was definitely not on his body,
and he could not feel his jeans encasing him, either. Javier
lifted the comforter and sheet. Yep, as naked as the day he
was born. And he noticed something else; Tracy was lying on
the sheet, leaving it between their bodies, allowing him
some degree of modesty. He smiled. As if sleeping next to
her, naked, would have bothered him. Well, on second thought...
after all, he was a healthy young male, forever frozen in
the sexually most active age.

Well, at least Tracy was still warm and breathing. Whatever
else had happened, he had not lost control or brought her
across. Now, that would have made things complicated.

But had they...? Damn his memory... Vachon turned over
slightly to check Tracy's neck for the telltale marks of
a vampire's lovemaking. The motion was enough to wake her.

"You're awake", Tracy stated sleepily and stretched. "How
do you feel?"

"Pretty good, considering I don't know how I got here."

"You don't remember?" Tracy shifted her weight, propping
herself up on one elbow.

Vachon shook his head. "The last thing I remember is going to
this bar..." He let the rest of the sentence trail away.
"There was a fight." Vachon shook his head. "I was stabbed.
Things get fuzzy from there."

"I found you in the morgue." Tracy thumped Vachon's shoulder.
"You could have told me that you know Natalie."

"Huh? Uh... well. She's..." Vachon fumbled for words.

"... the only doctor to the undead in Ontario." Tracy
concluded the sentence, grinning from ear to ear. "As I said,
you could have told me." She thumped him again.

"Ouch! Hey, that hurts!" Vachon complained. "How could I know
that you guys are friends?" He pouted.

"You're right. You couldn't know." Tracy chewed on her lower
lip and decided to drop the subject. "Are you hungry?"

Vachon's stomach growled in response.

"I'll take that as a yes", Tracy laughed. Patting Vachon's
rump, she got up and went into the kitchen. "Natalie gave me
dinner for you."

"Good", Vachon called after her, thoroughly enjoying the
view. "I am rather hungry, and I don't think I could safely
make it home now. What time is it, anyway?"

Tracy threw the kitchen clock a quick glance.
"2 PM", she called back, taking a bloodpack out of the
fridge. Ripping the edge open, she poured part of the
contents into an extra large mug. She brought both the mug
and the partially emptied pack back to Vachon.

Meanwhile, the vampire had stuffed the pillows behind
his back, reclining against the headboard in a half sitting
position. Tracy handed him the mug. Vachon hungrily
gulped down the contents and held out the mug for a refill.
Tracy poured the rest of the blood into it. Vachon drank down
the second mug as quickly as the first.

"More?" Tracy asked. He only nodded. The young
detective quickly brought another pack and refilled
the mug again. The third mug went slower than the first
two. After he finished it, Vachon let out a contented
sigh.

"Thanks", he breathed. "I haven't been that hungry since...
well, in a long time." He gently took the half empty blood
pack from Tracy's hand, refilling his mug again.
"So, what happened last night?" he asked lightly between
sips.

Tracy shrugged. "I walked in on Natalie treating you. You
had a knife blade stuck between your ribs, and she gave
you curare for the pain. You were pretty out of it, I took
you home, you fell asleep", she explained.

"That's it?" Vachon raised his eyebrows.

"That's it." Tracy fidgeted nervously.

Vachon tilted his head. His steady gaze bore into Tracy.
After a few moments, she could not stand the silent
scrutiny anymore.

"It's... well, it's not what I had planned for last night."
She felt the colour rise in her cheeks again. Damn her
fair complexion! And damn her cowardice! How could she ever
think she would go through with seducing Vachon? No, she
cared too much about him. About what he thought. She felt
awkward, embarrassed. There she was, a cop, a detective,
a strong woman. Ha! She couldn't even bring herself to act
on her feelings for a man!

Vachon gave her a slight nod, urging her to continue.
Tracy found she could not look into his face. Why did she
have to fall in love with him, anyway?

"I... it's silly, really. Forget about it." She shook her head.

Vachon reached out and laid his hand on her cheek, gently
turning her face towards him.

"I don't think so, Tracy", he said softly. "Whatever you
planned couldn't be silly." He waited for her to reply.
When no answer came, he continued: "If you can't tell me,
show me."

Tracy turned a darker shade of red. Her eyes darted to the
bathroom door.

"It's in the bathroom? Maybe I should go and see for myself",
Vachon teased.

"No!" Tracy yelled. She stared at him, totally mortified.
Screw this nosy vampire! He left her no escape. "I mean, okay,
I'll show you", she continued in a quieter voice. "But you have
to promise you won't laugh."

Vachon gave her his sexiest grin. "Cross my heart and hope to
die", he whispered. He wondered briefly if Tracy had any idea
how much she turned him on. His fingers tugged at the comforter,
rearranging it in a vain attempt to hide his growing arousal.

Tracy got up abruptly, her movements jerky. She quickly went
into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Leaning
against the door, she covered her face with both hands.
What would Vachon think? No matter what he said now, he would
laugh when he saw her in that... thing. Damn, damn, damn.
What had ever possessed her to buy this outfit in the first
place? It just wasn't her! Oh, well, she had no choice. Better
to get over with it. And to make things even worse, she was
aroused as hell. So aroused that she needed to change her panties.
Damn. She could not go back into the bedroom to get some fresh
underwear from her dresser. Not with Vachon in her bed. Tracy
wondered if he knew how much he turned her on.
Quickly, she got out of her night-gown and panties and stuffed
both into the laundry hamper. Taking a deep breath, she took
the new outfit from its hanger. Time to face the music.

Vachon had drained the last drops from his mug when Tracy re-emerged
from the bathroom, wearing a black leather mini skirt with a
slit up her left thigh, and an equally black leather strapless
top that left her midriff bare. She hadn't bothered with make up,
had not even combed her sleep-mussed hair. She was beautiful
beyond words.

---
End of part 6


The Curare Incident, part 7 of 7

---

Vachon's mouth hung open, the empty mug fell from his
suddenly numb fingers and landed with a thud on the carpet.
"¡Santa Maria!" he breathed.

Tracy edged away from the bathroom door, putting a little
more distance between herself and Vachon. She didn't want
him to see her. What had made her think she would impress
him by dressing up like a hooker? She felt dirty. Cheap. How
could Vachon ever respect her again, after a stunt like this?
Tracy felt the tears well up in her eyes.
"I'm sorry", she whispered. "I told you, it was a silly idea."
God, she was so embarrassed!

With vampiric speed, Vachon vaulted from the bed and crossed
the distance between them. Gently taking her face into both
his hands, he whispered: "No, mi querida." [No, my beloved]
"It's not silly." He smiled at her. "It's the sweetest thing
anybody has ever done for me." Capturing her lips in a soft
kiss, he let his hands trail down from her face to her
shoulders, and further down her body. Tracy hesitated,
tried to push him away, but Vachon wrapped his arms around
her and pulled her closer to him until she could feel a
hard bulge press into her abdomen. Her eyes
grew wide as she realized that it was Vachon's manhood, fully
erect and trapped between their bodies.

"Te quiero, Tracy", Vachon whispered. [I love you, Tracy].
"I've wanted you for so long, but I didn't know... I didn't
want to rush you." His voice was low and husky.

"You... like this?" Tracy queried, her voice almost failing her.

"Oh, yes!" Vachon kissed her again. "You're beautiful, Tracy.
You're beautiful, and I want you", he murmured between kisses.
Relief flooded through her until she felt her knees grow week.
This time, Tracy leaned into his embrace. She let her hands
trail down his chest, feeling the rough texture of his chest
hair, and down his stomach, until she reached the tip of his
engorged member. Gently she wrapped her fingers around him,
stroking down. He felt cold and hard in her hand.

Vachon shivered and moaned.
"Oh, this feels so good. Please don't stop, Tracy", he pleaded.

Bolder now, Tracy put one arm around him, massaging his
buttocks with one hand, while the other continued to stroke
his length.

A deep growl escaped Vachon's chest. His hands traveled to
her breasts, cupping and massaging them through the soft
leather, while his tongue demanded entrance into Tracy's mouth.
She parted her lips for him, and their tongues dueled.
Vachon's right hand travelled further south, resting
shortly on her quivering stomach. His left pulled at the thin
leather straps that laced up the top and ripped them apart.
With an impatient growl he flung the garment aside, laying both
hands on her now naked breasts again, flicking his thumbs over
her already erect nipples. Tracy moaned in pleasure. Her
kisses became more urgent. She alternately stroked the
delicate area behind his incisors until his fangs were fully
extended. Grabbing his right hand, she led him to her already
moist, hot entrance, gasping when his cool hand touched her.
Vachon's knees nearly buckled when his questing fingers didn't
encounter anything but Tracy beneath the short leather skirt.
He threw his head back and ground his hips into hers.
"¡Madre de dios!" he moaned. "This feels so good!"
His breath came in short gasps now. "Tracy, are you sure?
I'll have to bite. I need..." His voice failed him as Tracy
took him into her hands again, stroking and pulling him to her.
"I don't care", she nearly sobbed. "I want you, Javier. I need
you."
"Bed", he stammered, "Let's get to the bed."
Tracy nodded, not trusting her voice. Her hands continued to
roam the hard planes of his body in a feverish pace, her lips
trailed soft kisses down his throat until she reached the
tender skin at the side of his neck. She licked and nibbled
the area, causing Vachon to mutter incoherently in Spanish.
Driven only by the need to be within her, he placed his hands
under her ass and lifted her up. She wrapped her arms and
legs around him, and together they tumbled onto the bed,
Vachon somehow landing on top of her.
Tracy laced her fingers into his hair, pulling his head down
to her breasts.
"Please, Javier", she moaned. "I need to feel you inside me."
Her body was covered with sweat. Vachon inhaled deeply, losing
himself in the musky fragrance of her arousal. It nearly drove
him mad. Caressing her breasts with his hands and tongue,
he slid into her moist, welcoming depth.

Tracy gasped and arched her back when his cool hardness entered
her hot core. Her legs tightened around his body, pushing him
deeper into her. Vachon started to move within her. His thrusts
were deep, forceful, and gaining speed quickly. Tracy's hips
rose up to meet his every thrust. His coldness did nothing to
quench the heat within her. Instead, his own desperate need
fed hers, spreading the heat until every nerve in her body
was on fire. She was writhing beneath him, gasping and moaning,
her fingernails digging into his back when he grabbed her chin
with one hand, forcing her to look into his eyes. His own eyes
were glowing gold.
"Now, Vachon", she whimpered. With a feral growl, he plunged
his fangs into her neck just as her orgasm hit and her inner
muscles clenched around him. Tracy's blood spurted into
his mouth, hot and unimaginably sweet, triggering his own
release. Together they rode the waves of ecstasy until, finally,
their passion was spent.

Vachon was resting on top of Tracy, licking up the last drops
of blood that welled from the twin puncture wounds on her neck.
He had taken no more than a mouthful of her blood, not nearly
enough to put her in danger. When he moved to roll off of her,
Tracy stopped him with legs still wrapped securely around his
middle.

"No", she whispered. "Stay inside me."
She proceeded to gently lick and nibble the tender flesh of his
throat, her hands exploring his body, her hips grinding into
his until she could feel him grow hard again inside her, filling
her up again.
"Oh, Tracy", he sighed, "do you have any idea what you're doing
to me?"
The sensation of her growing tight around him was like nothing
he had felt in all of his four hundred and ninety years. It
almost beat being brought across. He purred deep in his throat.

"Now roll over", Tracy whispered into his ear. "Let me ride
you."

Vachon obediently rolled on his back, Tracy still securely
attached to him. Immediately, she began to move her hips in
a circular motion. He shuddered and sighed with pleasure.
Their second lovemaking was slower, without the desperation
borne of months of denying both their needs.
He let his hands wander up her thighs, cupping her behind.
He kneaded her buttocks. Tracy's hands rested lightly on his
stomach, her head was thrown back to reveal the pale column
of her throat. A look of intense pleasure was on her face.
Leaning forward slightly, she changed her motion, rising
up until only the tip of his shaft remained in her, and sliding
down again. Vachon felt his body respond to her. Soon her
pace grew faster, and she slammed into him with her full weight.
Vachon's hips rose up to meet her, thrusting into her until
she shook with the force of another orgasm. He pulled her
down to him, plunging his fangs into her neck again, drinking
her sweet nectar. It pushed him over the edge immediately,
and his own body convulsed and spasmed uncontrollably for the
second time this afternoon.

They collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs, their energy
finally spent.

"That was... incredible", Vachon whispered as soon as he had
recovered enough breath to speak.

"Mm-hmm", Tracy replied sleepily. Yawning, she snuggled up to
Vachon's cool body and quickly fell asleep. The vampire
regarded her for a while. There would be hell to pay when Tracy's
partner saw the fang marks on her neck, but it was worth it.
She was worth it. Older or not, he wouldn't allow Knight to
interfere in their relationship ever again. Having made his
decision, Vachon too drifted off to sleep.

---

The End

Well, that's it. Hope you all liked it! :))

Llarian
mailto:manulanger@tronet.de
http://www.llarian.de