-- An unfinished Forever Knight/Doctor Who crossover featuring the 8th Doctor I started for a friend's birthday. I do intend to finish it someday. Crossover. Posted to FKFIC-L, July/August 1995.
He always loved the final thud that the central column of the TARDIS gave when she finally came to a rest. To his ears, it has always seemed like a knock, a polite request for entry to a new and exciting world that would be met in kind. It was perhaps a fallacy to think of it with that image, he thought, considering the number of times he'd been an unwelcome visitor to various places and times throughout the universe. But that he would always be welcomed with peaceful and open arms was always his hope. And so, the image persisted.
A glance down at the cluttered console indicated that he'd gone off course again. He must remember to recalibrate the TARDIS's guidance systems sometime this decade, he thought to himself. Still, he'd landed on Earth, and since that was where he'd been heading anyway, that was good enough for him. What were a few decades more or less?
He'd just pop out, take a quick look around, perhaps sample the local cuisine and see if anything interesting was happening, then pop back in and be on his way. There was a nice symmetry to that plan. He liked that plan.
A flick of his finger opened the two large doors behind him. Brushing at the sleeves of his coat (he'd gotten dusty going through one of the cupboards in the back room looking for a book) he turned and slipped outside.
The sun was just rising over the tops of several large, square industrial buildings. Squinting up at it as he pulled the door closed behind him and pocketed the key he smiled. Though there was a slight spring chill in the air it was going to be a delightful day, warm and sunny. Just the right kind of day for a little exploring, he thought to himself, particularly now that he knew which way was east.
The TARDIS was nestled in the space between two buildings, which seemed at first to be deserted. But he realized very quickly that that was not the case when a woman stormed out of the building to his left and stalked over to her car, which was pulled haphazardly up in front of the warehouse.
Though he was nearly fifteen yards from her he could tell she was seething. Her movements were jerky and her face had the decided flush of rage to it. He watched as she opened the car door, then slammed it again with all her might. Then she opened the car door and slammed it again, so hard the car rocked back and forth on its wheels from the impact for a moment.
He waited until she'd stopped slamming the car door and was slouching with her back against it before cautiously approaching her.
"Excuse me," he said softly.
He startled her. He hadn't meant to, but she jumped at the sound of his voice, twisting her body around and backing away from him until the car was between them. She clutched her purse in front of her as if it was a shield as her hand rummaged through it frantically.
Mace, he thought dismally. He stopped moving and held his hands up, smiling apologetically. "I didn't mean to startle you," he said quickly. "I'm sorry."
She continued to dig through her purse, but he watched as her eyes passed over him carefully, taking in his attire. Hopefully taking in his sincerity and his non-threatening posture. He hated mace.
"What do you want?" she asked warily. Her voice was low, with a slight grate to it that was actually rather pleasing to the ear, he thought. With a little proper training she would have an exquisite speaking voice.
"Nothing," he said, lowering his hands slightly. "I thought I could be of assistance. You seemed to be having trouble with your car," he added wryly, a small amused smile on his face as he indicated the driver's side door with a small nod of his head.
That made her blush, and her eyes dropped from him for a moment. She pulled her hand from her purse, but did not move from her safe position. "There's no problem," she added quickly. "I...I thought the door was sticking." He saw a flicker in her eyes, probably as she wondered why she was even bothering to make excuses for her behavior.
"Then perhaps you might help me," he said.
She eyed him warily again, stiffening. It must be the recent regeneration, he thought to himself. Usually his charm and good nature worked faster than this. Though he supposed he'd have to give her some leeway since they were in a fairly deserted part of the city, whatever city that was. "I was wondering if you could perhaps give me a lift."
She very nearly smiled at that, then began shaking her head emphatically. "Oh, no, no, no," she said. She waved her hand at him as if to shoo him away. "I think you'd just better be on your way." There was a low warning note to her voice, though her movements were casual in a forced way.
"Please?" he asked.
She signed. "How can I possibly give you a ride?" she asked loudly. "I don't know who you are." She angled her head slightly and glanced up at the windows of one of the floors.
"Well, I'm The Doctor," he said, twisting his head to follow her gaze. All he saw were shuttered windows staring back at him.
"The Doctor?" she said, shifting to eye him skeptically. Then she tilted her head back and rolled her eyes. "OK, I get it. This is an April Fool's joke, right?"
So now he had a date too, he thought to himself with satisfaction. "What makes you say that?" he asked.
"You walk up to me on a deserted street looking like you've just stepped out of 'Nicholas Nickolby' and you're asking me? Grace put you up to this, didn't she?"
"Grace?" For a moment he paused. Grace? It couldn't be.
"Grace and Nick. Ha, ha. Very funny."
He shrugged, blinking innocently at her. "I do really need a ride," he said.
She shook her head again, moving around to the front of the car. "I've got to go," she said. "Nick's upstairs. He's awake." Then she grinned devilishly, and he rather liked the effect it had on her face, the way it opened her features and leant a sparkle to her eye. "He'll give you a ride."
As she moved to the door he backed away, deciding enough was enough and that he could just wander around on his own when a shrill ringing sounded from the pocket of her coat.
"Damn," she said, digging for a moment and pulling out a cellular phone as she pulled the car door open. "Lambert."
He didn't wait, but slipped forward to the passenger's side. It was locked, but the briefest pass with the sonic screwdriver did the trick.
"I'm on my way," she said as he pulled open the door and slipped into the seat beside her.
"Hey!" she yelled. She wasn't wearing her seat belt, and he watched as she very nearly scrambled out of the car again. Instead, she made a fist and swung it at his neck with all her might. "Get out!"
It connected solidly, though it fortunately didn't hit anything that might cause any damage, for which he was quite glad actually. He sputtered once or twice, though, just for effect.
"Look," she said, twisting in the seat to face him. "This isn't funny anymore. I've got a crime scene to get to. "
That stopped him dead in his tracks as he fixed her with a keen stare. "You're a police officer?" he asked.
"No, a medical examiner," she said. "And we're not having this conversation."
"Look, why don't I go with you?" he said instead. "I've had a bit of experience with these things. I might be able to help."
"Help?" she asked, and that disbelieving, exasperated tone was in her voice again.
"Yes, help," he insisted. "I am a doctor."
"It's a crime scene. They won't let you in."
He smiled at that. "Oh, I'm very good at finding ways around that." He paused and fixed her with a sincere look. "Please? I won't hurt you. I could have done so already. And you've still go the portable phone. If you're really afraid, call for help. I won't stop you."
He watched her seriously debate it for a moment before angrily sighing and looking away. "I'm stuck with you, aren't I? This is part of the joke?"
He just looked back at her and shrugged, lightly touching the steering wheel.
With another wary glance in his direction she carefully moved the phone over to her left hand. "I've got my finger on the emergency button," she warned as she fished her keys out and started the car.
"Just don't set it off accidentally. That would be embarrassing."
"I really hope there's a great punchline to this joke," she said, taking a moment to glance up again at the windows on the fourth floor. He presumed that's where Nick lived. Pulling the car out of gear, she backed out to the street. In moments, they were out in early morning traffic, heading toward the opposite side of the city.
"So, what's your real name?" she asked, keeping her eye on several cars coming up quickly to her left.
"You wouldn't be able to pronounce it," he said absently, gazing around him in an attempt to get some sense of where he was. North America, he was sure. But US, or Canada? Definitely not Mexico. She didn't respond to that, but he was sure she was rolling her eyes. "So, I just go by Doctor. What's your name?"
"They didn't tell you?"
"No," he said, truthfully. He didn't even know exactly who "they" were, though he suspected it was the Nick and Grace she'd referred to earlier.
She seemed to contemplate something for a moment. "Actually, it's Doctor, too," she said, with a small grin. "What a coincidence!"
"Ah, she has a sense of humor after all!" he exclaimed. "I thought for a moment there that I was going to have to be funny for us both!"
They turned onto a fairly large highway, and when he caught sight of the huge tower gracing the skyline his grin became even more emphatic. "We're in Toronto!" he announced, gesturing toward the CN Tower as they pulled to a stop behind traffic. "We're in Toronto and it's April first and you're the doctor. Now all I need to know is what year it is!"
She slumped forward and banged her head lightly against the steering wheel. "Good punch line, just keep telling yourself that. Good punch line."
He, whoever he was, was still peering excitedly out the window when traffic started moving again. Natalie had taken several opportunities to surreptitiously glance over at him in an attempt to further size him up. She felt a vague sense of unease about him, but not as much as she felt she should under the circumstances. Maybe it stemmed from the fact that Nick had not come down to investigate, though she was certain he'd heard her. He'd been standing moodily by the fireplace, fingering the dragon on it when she'd stormed out. Despite the fact that they'd just had a fight she didn't think Nick would ignore her like that in a potentially dangerous situation. That the sun had been up shouldn't have mattered either; he'd have found a way to reassure her, at the very least.
So, considering the date and that there'd been no sign of Nick, and the fact that she didn't know why but she believed this guy when he said he wouldn't hurt her, she'd reluctantly decided to play along with the game.
After all, she liked to think of herself as a good sport.
And a small part of her had to admit that she was rather pleased that Nick was going along with this. Despite the fact that they'd just had a huge argument about his recent backsliding until he'd shut her out completely with his stony silence, Natalie decided there was just something so...so human about playing a practical joke on someone. Being in the medical profession and in the coroner's office, a talent for it was a pre-requisite and so far, she had to admire Grace and Nick. Glancing quickly over at her companion once again she knew this one was bound to be a good.
He'd stopped squirming in his seat finally, openly stared at her. As their eyes met he pursed his lips, squinted, and began wiggling his eyebrows frantically.
It was such a ridiculous and silly and unexpected thing to do that for a moment all Natalie could do was stare back at him. But only for a moment, before she started to chuckle. "What was that?" she asked, grinning.
He stopped immediately. "I wanted to hear you laugh," he said simply, smiling back at her in such a way that the corners of his eyes crinkled at the corners. "You're out of practice."
Still smiling, she turned her attention back to the road. "Is that what Grace told you?"
"Pull up here!" he thundered instead of answering her question. He was pointing at a curbside newsstand.
"I can't!" Natalie protested. Already several people were honking irately at her because his outburst had caused her to take her foot off the gas. It didn't help matters that her brief hesitation caused her to miss the light either, she thought as she pulled up at the intersection.
"That's all right." He jumped abruptly out of the car. For one moment she debated locking the door and being on her way. But she didn't. If nothing else, he certainly was amusing. And he was right; she didn't laugh enough anymore.
Natalie watched as he slipped between two parked cars and hastily picked up a newspaper. Whatever he said to the clerk who must have told him the price must have been good because the clerk leaned out and stared after him, his expression bewildered, as he returned the paper to the pile and headed back in her direction.
"Nineteen ninety-six," he said triumphantly, slipping into the passenger seat once again.
"Oh, right," Natalie said sarcastically. "I forgot. You could have just asked me."
"It's cheating." He shrugged and added, "At the very least, it wouldn't have provided nearly as much entertainment to as many people."
"Of course," Natalie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He certainly was a curiosity.
And not a bad looking one, either, she thought, sneaking another glance over at him, though his attire was rather odd; he really did look as though he'd walked out of another time with that green frock coat and high collar. She wasn't all that familiar with costumes, but she thought it looked vaguely Edwardian, and it was a look that did seem to suit him. How it was going to fit in with whatever Grace had planned Natalie couldn't even begin guess at. Apart from the costume, she decided his features were a bit sharp, but that there was kindness and intelligence in his gaze that worked well to counteract that.
"Nineteen ninety-six," he repeated, looking around at the city with interest. "At least we won't have to worry about any alien invasions." He glanced over at her.
"Well, that's a relief," Natalie sighed, shaking her head. "I hate it when that happens."
"So do I," he said, nodding solemnly. "How long have you been a medical examiner?"
"It feels like forever," she replied with a rueful laugh.
And it did, she realized. She'd done an internship and a year of residency with the Toronto Coroner's office. In fact, she'd only been on the job for a little over a year when Nick had been brought in. "Uh, about six years."
"Six years?" he said brightly, leaning back to look at her. "You were a child protegé!"
She could feel the blush creep up along her face, and knew that he clearly saw it from the little chuckle he gave. "Let me guess," he continued. "First in your class?" Shrugging absently, she remained silent, concentrating on the road ahead. "Why a medical examiner?" he asked, sobering suddenly.
"Why not?" she asked, shrugging again. It was her pat answer, and was usually sufficient to stall that line of questioning. But it didn't work this time.
"Lots of reasons," he said. "All that death doesn't get to you?"
"It's part of the job," she said, trying to keep her voice matter-of-fact and neutral. They pulled up to another light. "You'll get eaten alive if you get too emotionally involved. I try to stay focused on the problem solving."
"You don't always succeed, though." He said it as a statement, and when she looked over at him, there was such sadness in his eyes, the light-heartedness of only moments ago suddenly gone, as if it had never existed. "Believe me, I know."
Natalie swallowed past the lump that had inexplicably formed in her throat when she saw his expression. He seemed suddenly so heavy and ancient. And the thought struck her; she'd seen that same expression on Nick's face from time to time, as if the past had suddenly come crashing in all at once. It never failed to break her heart.
Then he blinked, and all traces of sorrow were gone, the prior cheerfulness abruptly returning. "Small talk is a dreadful social convention, isn't it? Where exactly did you say we were going?"
It took her a second to regain her equilibrium. Though she was somewhat used to abrupt mood shifts from Nick, he never moved this rapidly into or achieved this level of buoyancy, though he was certainly an expert in plumbing the depths of despair. It was the levity that was throwing her. "I...I didn't say, actually."
"But it's a crime scene. A murder?"
"Well," Natalie said, tapping the horn when the driver in front didn't move with the green light right away, "it might be. Or it might not be. I try not to form any opinions until I get there."
"Good for you!" he exclaimed.
"We're not too far from it now," she said, turning the corner. They were driving along a tree-lined street filled with modest homes. Not a wealthy neighborhood by any stretch; more working class. The house they were looking was obvious to spot, due to three squad cars and an ambulance pulled up in front of it.
As if on cue, the Doctor grinned and pointed. "This must be the place."
"Now, what was your first clue, Doctor?" she asked, flashing a smile at him as she pulled into a space several houses down from the one in question. Then she sobered. "Look, you'd better wait he--" She broke off when he opened the door and climbed out of the car, heading toward the house. Cursing under her breath, Natalie climbed out of the car. "Wait!" she yelled after him.
He turned, and started walking backwards. "Hurry up!" he said.
"Wait for me!" Natalie insisted. She watched as he slowed his pace slightly, though he kept moving, still walking backwards. Deciding that this was the best she was going to manage, she ducked back down and grabbed her bag from the back seat. When she straightened, she noticed that he'd picked up his pace again and so she set off after him, nearly running in her haste to catch up. As she moved along side of him, he turned and they headed toward the house together. "You should really wait in the car," she said.
"That won't be necessary," he said, without breaking his stride.
"Look, sir," she said more firmly. She was beginning to get annoyed.
He stopped and touched her arm lightly. "No need to be so formal," he said. "Doctor will do." Then he resumed walking.
"Fine," Natalie said without missing a beat, and falling into step beside him, "I'll play along. Doctor, you can't go in there."
"Why not?"
"It's a crime scene."
"Which is precisely why I should go in with you. I told you, I have some experience with these things."
Natalie opened her mouth to protest further, then thought better of it, and just continued to walk with him instead. There was an officer standing out on the sidewalk. When they got close enough to the house, she'd ask him to detain the Doctor for her until she was finished here. Enough was enough; both Grace and Nick knew she wasn't about to risk contaminating a crime scene over an April Fool's joke.
The uniform recognized her, and nodded to her as she approached. Natalie remembered that his name was Fred Jansen, and that he was a rookie. As she opened her mouth to ask him to keep an eye on her companion, the Doctor suddenly used his much longer legs to his advantage and quickly moved several feet ahead of her, holding out his hand. Briskly he shook Jansen's hand. "How do you do, Officer...Jansen. I'm the Doctor, and this is the Doctor. I'm with her."
Natalie had to admit he was good. He spoke with a good deal of authority and he never stopped moving, slipping smoothly past the Jansen and was halfway up the steps leading to the porch as Natalie paused. "Come along, Doctor," he said cheerfully, taking the stairs two at a time.
She briefly debated telling Jansen to radio into the house, and for a moment amused herself with the image of the Doctor being dragged bodily back down the very same set of steps he was at this very moment practically skipping up. Except that now he was at the door, and she was hard pressed enough as it was to catch up to him before he went inside. So she just shrugged at Jansen, and ran quickly up the steps to where the Doctor was standing holding the door for her.
"Stay out of the way and don't touch anything!" she hissed as she moved past him into the foyer. "Or I'll have you arrested."
"You wouldn't be the first," he said smoothly, following her inside and closing the door behind him.
"I mean it," she threatened.
He nodded. "You can trust me, Doctor," he said. "I'm just here as an advisor."
After fixing him with a hard glare for several seconds, she finally nodded. Nick and Grace were definitely in for a lecture about their choice in practical jokes. It was one thing to be a good sport; it was another thing entirely to allow a stranger access to a crime scene.
A flash of blue-white light diverted her attention, and she spotted a knot of people in the dining room, Joe Reese among them. "I shouldn't be more than half an hour," she said. "Please, just wait here." She tightened her grip on the handle of her bag, and turned away. As an afterthought she looked back over her shoulder and added, "And remember, don't touch anything."
Joe Reese was waiting expectantly for her as she approached the group clustered near the dining room table. The body of a young woman was sprawled in the corner, near the china cabinet, her limbs twisted and bent in that awful limpness only seen in death. Natalie noted the bluish tint to her skin as she joined the group of people, the others shifting to make room for her in the circle. She could see that forensics was already hard at work dusting the window sills for fingerprints.
"Lemme guess," Reese said. "Traffic."
"Among other things," she said. "Is the photographer finished."
"Took the last picture a few seconds ago. Go ahead and do your stuff, Doctor," he said, holding out his arm. But then he frowned. "Who the hell are you?" he said, his voice sharp. Natalie didn't have to guess at who he was talking to, she thought as she sighed in exasperation. So much for him not being noticed.
Sure enough, when she whirled around, the Doctor was crouched down next to the body of the woman, his fingers gently holding the fabric of her collar aside as he peered intently down at her neck. Watching him thus, Natalie felt a lump instantly form in the pit of her stomach. What was he looking at?
"Get away from there!" Reese said, waving to two uniforms. Abruptly the doctor stood. "You're not authorized to be here. Who the hell are you?"
"I'm the Doctor. I'm with her," he said, indicating Natalie with a small nod in her direction.
"I don't care if you're Superman and the Green Lantern all rolled into one!" Then he turned to her, his face darkening. "Doctor Lambert, I'm certain I don't need to give a lecture on bringing unauthorized people into a crime scene, now do I?"
"It's a...professional courtesy," the Doctor interjected, moving to stand next to her. He paused to look down at Natalie. "At the Doctor's request, of course."
Reese still looked dubious, as Natalie gaped up at the Doctor, embarrassed and outraged all at the same time. But Reese was watching her closely, and Natalie realized she didn't have any choice. She'd have to play along, pretend that this character was a colleague or face a reprimand from Reese and the officials in her office as well. But, boy, were Grace and Nick going to get it when they both came on shift later tonight.
"Um...he's...the Doctor's with me," she finally said, reluctantly, then took a deep breath in an effort to calm down.
"Yes," the Doctor continued. "I arrived unexpectedly. Then the Doctor got the call, and so I came along. And it's a good thing, too. Let me show you, something" he said, stepping back and attempting to usher Reese and Natalie over toward the victim.
Thankfully, Reese was having none of it, and took his cue from her, which Natalie wasn't about to waste. "I'll get right on it, Captain," she said loudly and deliberately, stepping in between Reese and the Doctor.
"Excellent idea, Doctor," was all Reese said. "I want the report on my desk ASAP."
By the tone of his voice she knew this was far from over, and that she was in for a lecture later this afternoon when she delivered the report. There was no avoiding the issue. As if to remind her of that fact, she heard Reese ask the Doctor, "Just what did you say your name was again, Doctor?" Luckily she was facing him and gave him a "no funny business" look that was unmistakable.
"John Smith," he said. Natalie rolled her eyes.
"Right," Reese said, even more doubt creeping into his voice. But she heard him walk away toward one of the detectives who'd just come back from canvasing the neighborhood.
"John Smith?" she whispered as she walked over to the victim.
He smiled and shrugged. "It's as good a name as any other," he said. "I think I even have a passport with that name back in the TARDIS somewhere." His expression was far away again, and though Natalie was tempted to ask him what in the world a TARDIS was, she had more important business to attend to. Like the victim lying at her feet at the moment.
As if reading her mind, the Doctor crouched down. "What do you make of this?" he asked, waiting for her to lean down until he once again pulled the fabric back. It was just as she expected; puncture wounds on the jugular. Bruising around the wound, but no blood. She'd been completely drained.
The Doctor was watching her intently,
guaging her reaction.
Stalling for a moment, she reached down and pulled the fabric back even further,
giving herself a better view of the wound. Then she frowned deeply and looked
back up at him, trying her best to look puzzled. Shaking her head, she said,
"It's...uh...hard to say. I'll know more when I get her back to the lab."
Another ploy to buy herself time, another pat answer as her mind raced. There
was something different about these wounds--they were much larger than those
she'd encountered before, a raggedness to them as if whoever had done it had
been violently hungry.
"I've seen it before," the Doctor said softly.
Natalie looked up at him, feeling her blood run cold. "You have?" she dimly heard herself ask. He nodded solemnly.
"Surely it's occurred to you as well," he said. "Look at the wound. Twin puncture marks, massive blood loss."
"Hmmm," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Maybe the murderer stabbed her with an ice pick."
"And did what with the blood?"
Natalie shrugged. "Maybe she wasn't killed here."
The Doctor seemed to buy that for a moment, and crouched there rocking back and forth on his heels deep in thought. "Fair enough," he said. "What else could it be?"
"Um, well..." Natalie said, reaching for her bag and snapping a pair of gloves on. "There's no blood around the wounds or on the body. Maybe...a suction device of some sort. Maybe they wanted the blood for some kind of ritual?"
He thought about that one too. "Possible," he said. "What else?"
Now she was getting exasperated. "I'll know more once I have a chance to examine her a little more closely. There might be other wounds that could be the cause of death."
"And if there aren't? What then?"
"Then, we put down extreme loss of blood as the cause of death."
"So, what you're saying is that someone sucked out all of her blood through these two little holes in her neck?" He paused and looked expectantly at her, as if expecting her to fit the piece of a very obvious puzzle together. And it was an obvious puzzle, and she knew full well what he expected her to say. "Ring any bells?" he prompted, when she didn't answer.
Natalie stood abruptly and looked down at him. After a second or two he rose as well. "You aren't suggesting...?"
"Suggesting what?" he asked, his tone serious.
She stared at him for several long moments as everything around her seemed to disappear into a fog, trying to decide if he was playing with her, or that he really knew about vampires. Was he a hunter of some sort? Was he following some investigation of his own. "Nothing," she said after a moment, breaking the spell. The world around her suddenly returned, falling into sharp, surreal focus once again.
That seemed to truly disappoint him, and he looked away quickly. But when he looked back at her after a few seconds, he fixed her with a deadly serious look. "I think she was killed by a vampire."
There it was. For a moment, Natalie found it difficult to breathe. Did he know that she knew? Was trying to get a reaction out of her? "A vampire," she said, hoping her tone was flat and slightly incredulous. "Right," she said. She had to get out of here. She had to get him out of here, before he asked any more questions or made any more observations. "I'll consider it as a possibility, but not until I've ruled out a couple other things." It wasn't a lie exactly, or so she told herself, yet she hated the patronizing, placating tone her voice had taken on.
The Doctor watched her as she stood and spent several moments just looking around the crime scene, taking in the position of the body, the placement of the furniture, anything that might be a useful clue to tell her how and when this woman might have died. It was quickly apparent that virtually nothing was disturbed, which indicated to her at least that there'd been no struggle, that the victim possibly knew her attacker. Then she knelt down to begin a preliminary physical exam of the body. As she already suspected there were no other visible marks on the body other than the two wounds.
But it was all a lie; she was going through the movements knowing what had killed this woman. It wasn't the first time she regretted attempting to cover up vampire activity, but now that regret was warped and magnified under the Doctor's intense scrutiny. She felt the wrongness of it right down to her soul.
How much did he know?
He watched. Something was not right, he felt it right down to his very old bones. His very old new bones, he thought ruefully.
She was flustered, and he sensed it had to do with far more than his proclamation about what he thought killed this woman. Or rather, that that observation had struck some deep chord in her, and he mused quietly as to exactly what that might be as he watched her work. The shadows that had suddenly appeared behind her eyes as they'd talked had disturbed him greatly. She was hiding something.
And she was very afraid.
That's what bothered him the most, he realized, as he watched her stiffly perform her duties. She was good at her job, competent, professional, intelligent. That was always something to be admired, particularly when it wasn't accompanied by arrogance. Or at least only small traces of it that crept in every now and again. Not even he was immune to that, he supposed.
But her fear was something else, and he had the impression that she'd lived with it for a very long time now.
Not that he blamed her. If they were dealing with vampires, and there was never just one vampire, it was a frightening concept on several levels. He must protect the people here, the innocent upon whom they preyed for food.
There was a question as to how this modern, technological world would react when presented with the evidence that creatures from their nightmares and myths really existed. And there was the question of what they would do, armed with that knowledge.
And then there was the question of what the vampires would do in retaliation.
An ugly scenario all around, he decided, as he watched Doctor Lambert make a few notes on the clipboard she held. Every once in a while she would glance warily up at him, her large eyes troubled. For the briefest of moments he fancied that she could see right into him with those eyes, see into every nook and cranny of his soul, and that she knew what he was thinking.
The Doctor shook it off quickly. There were things to be done. First he had to find out what she knew, and if necessary convince her that vampires were real.
Then he'd have to set about finding a way to deal with them.
He was distracted by a commotion at the door, and saw a short, woman pushing his way frantically through a throng of people clustered just inside the foyer. At any other time, she would be extremely pleasant looking. Now, she was clearly distraugh.
"Natalie!" she called, her voice laced with worry.
"Myra?"
As he moved over toward them, he saw Myra clutch Natalie's arm. "Is Jenny here?" she said.
"Jenny?" Natalie asked. "No..." Her head turned to look down at the body of the victim, almost involuntarily, he thought. Myra followed her gaze, and he heard her sharp intake of breath.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Natalie immediately led her away from the body, so that the dining room table obscured their view.
"She...she was here, spending the night with Charlotte, Wendy's...Wendy's daughter," Myra said, backing away from the corpse, before pressing her hand tightly over her mouth. "And now she's gone," Myra said, mumbling into her hand. Even so, he heard her voice dissolve into tears.
Natalie wrapped her arms tightly around Myra, and stroked her hair gently. "We don't know that they're missing, Myra," she said. "They might have gone out to the park."
Catching her eye, he solemnly shook his head. The vampire would have killed her before dawn. And though he wasn't an expert in these things, the temperature of the body was low enough to indicate that she'd been dead since well before the sun had come up, by his reckoning.
He thought Natalie was going to burst into tears herself, as her mouth settled into a tight line and she blinked several times after catching his gaze.
"I--I can't do this," Myra was saying. "First Don. If I lose Jenny too..." Her voice trailed off as Natalie began soothing her again.
"We won't let that happen, Myra," Natalie said, pulling back and placing her hands on the other woman's shoulders. "Captain Reese is here. We'll go talk to him now. And I'll call Nick. You know he'll do everything he can to help."
This seemed to calm Myra down, who nodded mutely, though tears continued to run down her face.
"There's Captain Reese now," Natalie said, turning Myra slightly and pointing. Natalie started to follow, but the Doctor touched her lightly on the arm. "I'll be right behind you, Myra," Natalie reassured, pausing and turning to him. Her eyes were still troubled.
"A friend of yours?"
Natalie turned briefly to watch Myra's retreating form, long enough to see Joe Reese introduce himself. "The widow of a colleague," she said. Then turning back to him, she added, "A friend, yes.
"How old is Jenny?" he asked, sympathetically.
Natalie swallowed. "Thirteen," she said, finally, then lifted a hand to her face, pinching the skin above her nose together.
He felt a chill steal over him. Two adolescent girls missing. Another woman dead. "They're usually more careful than this," he said grimly. "This one," he paused to shake his head. "This one is sloppy. Or..."
"Or up to something," she finished, dropping her hand away from her face. She hadn't meant to speak aloud, he could see that from the startled expression on her face. Not that she had really revealed anything. He had the distinct sense that the stakes, so to speak, had just gone up significantly for Natalie.
"We need to get her back to your lab," he said, indicating the corpse behind them. "There are a few tests I'd like to run."
Natalie hesitated for a moment, and seemed as if she was about to say something. Then she thought better of it, and simply nodded in agreement. "Just let me just talk to Myra for a minute," she said. On her way over toward Reese and Myra, she nodded to the two M.E. office attendants, who immediately set about bagging the body and taking her out of the building.
"She went home with Charlotte yesterday after school," Myra was saying to Reese as they walked up. "They were supposed to come to our house last night, but they changed their minds at the last minute and came here instead. I should have insisted," Myra said, breaking down. "I should have insisted that she come home!" Close to hysterics now, she leaned into Natalie who wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulder.
"There's nothing you could have done, Mrs. Schanke," Reese insisted quietly. "You had no way of knowing, and blaming yourself like this isn't going to help Jenny."
"You have to be strong, Myra," Natalie said softly.
"I'm going to need a list of places that Jenny goes to on a regular basis so I can send some teams out. She might still turn up." He waved a middle-aged blond woman over. "Mrs. Schanke, this is Detective Hillman. She'll get the information from you."
"This way, Mrs. Schanke," Hillman said, gently leading her away.
"Do you have anything for me, Doctor," he said, sighing heavily.
"Do you believe in vampires, Captain?" the Doctor said before Natalie could say anything, though she managed a strangled sound at his question.
"Not you!" Reese said angrily, putting his hand on his hip. Then Reese leaned forward and poked him in the chest, which the Doctor thought was remarkably rude. Then again, people were always being rude and he could never quite figure out why since he never meant anyone any harm. Well, except for Daleks, and Cybermen and Ice Warriors and--
"This isn't some kind of joke," Reese was practically shouting. "I've got a dead woman, and two missing little girls. And I don't have time for any games."
"It's not a game, Captain,"
Glaring at him, Reese said pointedly and deliberately, "Doctor Lambert. I suggest you take Bela Lugosi here outa my sight. Make sure he understands that if I see him again, I'll have him arrested."
"Yes, sir," Natalie said.
"Ouch," he exclaimed as Natalie's fingers dug painfully into his forearm.
"And I'll see you later today,
Doctor Lambert," Reese added as he was all but dragged out of the house.
She had a surprisingly strong grip, he thought, allowing her to lead him down
the steps, past the officers with the garish yellow tape and to her car before
gently extricating himself from her grip. When he did so, she whirled on him,
her face bright red with fury.
"All right, who are you?" she demanded.
"We've been through this," he began.
"Yes, I know. You're the Doctor. But who are you?"
He owed her the truth. And maybe by being truthful, he'd earn the truth from her as well. "I'm a Time Lord, from Gallifrey," he said.
That got her attention. "Time Lord?" she asked, incredulously. "Time Lord?"
"From Gallifrey," he added.
"And where, pray tell, is Gallifrey?" she asked sarcastically.
"On the other side of the universe," he said.
She laughed scornfully, an ugly sound that he decided he didn't like at all. The harshness was unbecoming, but he recognized it as a defense mechanism for hiding her fear. "Stop playing the fool," she said in frustration. "Or are you delusional? Schizophrenic, is that it?"
"Oh, nothing as exotic as that," he said lightly. "Just a Time Lord."
She whirled away from him, and started to get into her car. When he moved to follow her, she held up her hand. "Don't!" she said sharply.
"Then at least tell me one thing," he said, pausing. She didn't answer, but she also made no further move to get into her car. He took that as a sign to continue. "Tell me why you won't believe I'm from another planet, yet you can believe in vampires?"
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, as her face turned a deep red. "I never said I believe in vampires," she finally managed.
"But you do," the Doctor said gently.
"No, I don't," she said a little too quickly.
He moved around the car, until there was only a foot between them. "I realized it back in the house," he said gently. "You know too much, Natalie."
He did it again. He saw the fear flare in her eyes, and realized that his last sentence sounded vaguely like a threat. "Welcome to the club," he added quickly, before she could back away from him. "And, you're a terrible liar."
Another small, derisive laugh, though this one was much more pleasant. "At least I don't make up ridiculous stories about being from another planet."
He could fix that one once and for all. "You have a stethoscope in your medical bag, right?"
"Oh, you're going to prove it? What, do you have two hearts or something?"
He stopped and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "As a matter of fact, yes."
She stared at him for a moment, then turned and dug furiously through her medical bag until she pulled out her stethoscope. Fitting it into her ears, she held it up to the Doctors chest. He flinched away. "Those things are always so cold," he said mockingly. "And your technology doesn't develop scanners for these things for at least another decade."
Slapping him lightly in the ribs, she gave him an exasperated look, then glanced furtively up and down the street. Sure enough, Officer Jansen was watching them with amazement.
He followed her gaze. "It's all right. I have nothing to hide. In fact, we can let Officer Jansen listen, if he wants to."
She didn't hesitate any further. Her brows furrowed in concentration. "Well, for an alien from another planet you have an amazingly Homo sapien heartbeat," she said. "A little on the slow side, but--"
She broke off as he reached up and very gently shifted the stethoscope to the right side of his chest. Watching her, he was amused to see her jaw fall open and she listened to both sides of his chest several times each.
"You have two hearts!" she said breathlessly, staring up at him with wide-eyed wonder.
"No!" he said, pretending to be aghast.
"Nick and Grace didn't send you," she said. There was a flicker of hesitancy on her face.
"Nick and Grace didn't send me," he said.
Shaking her head slightly, she muttered, "I must be a magnet for the supernatural."
"I beg your pardon?"
She went on, not hearing him. He was amused to note that she was close to babbling, and he suspected that didn't happen very often. "B-but, why two? The metabolic price you must pay to sustain them must be enormous. What's the advantage? You seem to breath oxygen. Do you--"
He grinned as he saw the naked curiosity and fascination in her eyes. "You can ask me all the questions you want on the way to the lab," he interjected.
"Including what you know about vampires?" she asked quietly.
"Deal," he said without hesitation. He'd been planning to do that anyway.
"Get in," she said excitedly.
"You're definitely from another planet?" she asked, stealing a sidelong glance at her companion.
"I am definitely from another planet."
"You have a spaceship? Is that how you got here?"
He smiled gently. "A ship of sorts. But better than a spaceship, actually. It travels through time."
"Through time!" she exclaimed. "That's why you're a Time Lord."
"Nine out of ten," he said. "When this is over, I'll give you a tour of the TARDIS." Then he paused. "Well, a tour of part of the TARDIS. I'm afraid she's rather large."
Natalie was puzzled. "Where is she? If she's that big, wouldn't people notice?" At least he had the curious habit of calling his vehicle "she" in common with human males. "Or is it in orbit, and you just beamed down."
"I hate particle transporters," he said quickly with a shudder. "Lets just say the TARDIS is good at keeping a low profile," he replied with a cagey expression on his face.
Natalie laughed. "You talk like she's alive."
"In a way, she is," he replied with a shrug.
This was all so incredible, so unbelievable. Here she was, playing chauffeur for E.T. An E.T. who knew about, and had presumably dealt with vampires before.
That thought sobered her. He knew about vampires. And he'd expressed a willingness to answer her questions, someone she had yet to encounter. Not even Nick was particularly forthcoming, and there were certain no other vampires in town that she could go to with questions. There were so many thing to ask, a thousand and one things she needed to know.
"Is there a cure?" she blurted before she had a chance to form a coherent line of questioning.
The Doctor frowned at her. "A cure?" he asked. "What a curious question." He looked out through the windshield and thoughtfully stroked his chin. "The only cure I know of is a stake through the heart. Somehow I don't think that's what you have in mind."
"No, it's not," Natalie affirmed, shaking her head quickly. This didn't sound good. "Do you think it's a condition that can be cured?" She made a concerted effort to sound casual, to keep any traces of desperation out of her voice.
The Doctor thought about this for several long moments, before shrugging. "I don't think so," he said after a few minutes. "In my experience, when you kill the source, the servants, or vampires as you know them, revert to their true age very rapidly. Too rapidly to arrest."
"The source?" Natalie asked, though she could barely force the sentence out of her mouth around the cloak of disappointment that settled rapidly over her shoulders, numbing her. There was a cure. Janette had found the way back, a route that Natalie found herself thinking about more and more as each day passed and found them no closer to mortality. Natalie had hoped that the Doctor could point her in a different direction.
"There was a race of vampires," then the Doctor paused. "Actually, I suppose I should say that there are a race of vampires, since the last one is killed in your future."
"So what you're saying is that when that race dies out, all vampires everywhere will die with them?"
He cocked his head to the side, and peered thoughtfully at passing traffic. "It's hard to say, really. It's difficult to predict what the long term effects of an alien mutagen might be on a species. They could die out. Or," he added, shrugging, "they could survive."
"Alien mugaten?" Natalie asked. "So you're saying that vampirism is extra-terrestrial?"
He laughed at that. "About as extra-terrestrial as they get, Natalie," he said. "They're vile creatures, with no home of their own. They descend like a plague of locusts onto planets throughout the universe. They are the ultimate destroyers of life. The ultimate parasite." He was now looking at her so earnestly that Natalie felt as uncomfortable now beneath his scrutiny as she had back at the scene. "They must be stopped," he said softly. "We have to stop them before they kill again."
She drew a deep breath of air into her lungs. How on earth was she going to explain to him that not too many months ago she'd had the means to destroy all the vampires, the ones on this planet anyway, and had, instead, saved them? She had a good idea of how to wipe them all out en masse if she were so inclined. And she was pretty certain that she'd been allowed to live with that knowledge because she'd helped them during the plague. If they now found out that she was allied with someone bent on their destruction...
The consequences and implications made her head spin, and suddenly Natalie thought that her already too delicately balanced world would not be able to sustain the added weight of yet another compromise. She'd made so many already.
"But if the vampires as we know them here are the servants, then can they be held responsible for what they are?" she argued. Perhaps she could make him see reason. Or perhaps he'll make you see his version of reason, a little voice chimed in.
The Doctor shook his head. "It's their choice."
Natalie frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that every vampire chooses to become one. Accidents don't happen."
"That can't be," Natalie exclaimed, thinking of Richard. He hadn't chosen anything; she'd chosen for him. "Hypothetical situation. Someone's on the brink of death and unconscious," she said, choosing her words carefully. "A vampire comes along and bites her and she wakes up a vampire. Where did she make her choice."
The Doctor turned to look steadily at her. "In choosing to wake up," he replied.
"In choosing to live instead of die, you mean," she said, swinging the car into her parking space at the morgue. "Can you really fault anyone for giving into their survival instinct, especially when they don't know what's waiting for them when they wake up?" she asked, climbing out of the car. "Lock it," she said, reaching into the back and pulling her briefcase out."
"Survival is what it's all about. They destroy to survive," the Doctor said, falling into step beside her as they made their way into the Coroners Building.
"So we destroy them before they destroy us?" Natalie asked, appalled at the very idea.
He sighed deeply, and his shoulders seemed to sag. "Sometimes it's the only way."
There wasn't anything Natalie could say to that just at that moment, both because of the weight of his words, and because they'd moved into the hallway where several people were on their way to start their shifts. A few paused to stare curiously at her companion, and she thought she saw a few secret, knowing smiles, and reddened over the idea of what they must be thinking.
He smiled back at them, and Natalie saw him wink at one of the orderlies as they moved past him. With a small choking sound, Natalie twisted her fingers in the fabric of his coat and pulled him along behind her into her lab. Which, she realized after she did it, probably only added fuel to the fire.
"It seems I'm doing terrible things to your reputation, Doctor Lambert," the Doctor said innocently. When she found herself unexpectedly chuckling over that, he raised his eyebrows questioningly. Then with mock severity, he placed his palm on his cheek he added, "I wonder what kind of woman I've gotten myself involved with!"
"A very busy one, I'm afraid," Natalie said, indicating the sheet covered corpse that a technician wheeled in just at that moment. Not to mention an extremely tired one, she thought to herself. She'd gone to Nick's right after a busy shift last night and was now well into her second full day without more than a catnap here and there. Not that it mattered--she didn't sleep well under the best of circumstances, and the way things had been going with Nick these last few months, she was amazed she got any at all.
The Doctor sobered immediately. "Yes," he said slowly. "I'll stay for the autopsy, if you don't mind," he said.
"Just no back seat cutting," Natalie said, waggling a warning finger in his direction.
"Who, me?"
"Yes, you. I've got to go change. I'll be right back." At the door she turned to find the Doctor rearrange the microscope and a few jars at the bench. She cleared her throat loudly. When he looked up in her direction she said, "Put those back right where you found them. I don't suppose it'll do any good to ask you not to touch anything, but give it a shot anyway, OK?" She left after watching the Doctor hastily move the microscope back into its original position.
In the locker room she took a minute to just sit on the bench with her eyes closed. Too much was happening too fast, she thought. Murder and kidnapping and extraterrestrials and vampires all in one morning. Oddly enough, the only part of that that wasn't routine was The Doctor, and she suspected there was nothing ever routine about him.
Vampires, well normally that she could handle. But not when they invaded suburbia and brazenly murdered people before kidnapping little girls from slumber parties. Particularly little girls she knew. Thoughts of little Cynthia crowded the image of Jenny Schanke in her mind, and Natalie felt tears well up in her eyes. She wondered just how much pull she had with the vampire community. If she went down to The Raven right now and told the patrons there who she was and what had happened what would they do? Would they help her? Would they pretend like the didn't know who she was? Would they just dismiss her as a silly mortal?
And could she really bring herself to go down there, even in daylight? Natalie tiredly rubbed her eyes and decided that though she would do it if it became necessary to save Jenny's life (and she would do anything to save Jenny she realized) for now she'd let Nick handle it. Maybe the request would sit better coming from one of their own anyway, though she had no idea what Nick's standing was in the vampire community.
Nick! It was then that she remembered her promise to Myra to call Nick as soon as she got back to the morgue. Wiping the tears from her eyes quickly she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.
"He already knows," a voice said quietly from the doorway. Natalie turned and looked up into the concerned, friendly face of Jill, the technician who had replaced Grace. "He called a little while ago, looking for you. He sounded pretty frantic."
She swallowed and nodded. "Joe Reese must have called him," she said.
Natalie missed Grace, though she still kept in touch with her. And she knew Grace still kept track of municipal gossip which was why she'd thought Grace and Nick had set her up for an April Fool's joke. But the truth was that she didn't talk to Grace as much as she would have liked; her schedule just didn't permit and truthfully, Natalie had never been much of a gossip. She liked Jill well enough, but Jill wasn't a friend. Grace had been a friend.
And Grace left just when I needed her the most, she thought darkly, watching Jill retreat from the locker room. There were a lot of things she couldn't share with Grace, details about Nick, about what he was and why their relationship was the way it was. But Valentine's Day, the meteor scare, Schanke and Cohen. When Grace left, Natalie found herself adrift with no one to talk to--Nick had been devastated by the loss of Schanke. And so had she; she'd lost a friend who'd gone out of his way to make her laugh from time to time. Natalie only realized afterwards that she'd lost another vital link to her mortality. And Amanda... The painful irony that the charred remains she pieced together during those dark days after the explosion belonged to the woman who had helped her to start down the road of overcoming that fear was not lost on her.
But Nick had talked about leaving. And Nick had needed her. And after that, he'd started on his downward spiral. And so she shunted her own pain into taking care of him, as was her habit, until her own had all but disappeared. Or so she managed to convince herself during all those sleepless nights spent working an extra shift or two instead of lying alone at home tossing and turning.
As much as she wanted to dissolve into tears just at the moment, Natalie couldn't allow herself the luxury, though she felt a slight tremor run through her body as the emotion she was bottling up inside fought for release. There were times when she just wanted to disappear, take off for parts unknown and leave this life behind. She wondered what it would be like to be free, especially after her beeper went off or her phone rang, calling her away to yet another crime scene.
Like this morning, she thought, rising and shrugging out of her blazer. Only this morning's call had taken a personal turn. Pulling open her locker, she caught her reflection in the mirror;she could almost see the dark cloud hovering over her head. But she stopped and looked for several long moments anyway.
"I won't let anything happen to her, Don," she promised softly.
Then with another brief nod at her mirror image, Natalie turned away and quickly changed out of her street clothes, and into her scrubs.
When she pushed the door open and re-entered her lab, the Doctor was sitting at her desk, his large feet propped up on the blotter, too close to a precariously balanced stack of files. He was looking down intently at something in his lap and it took Natalie a few moments to realize he was leafing through her lab notebook on Nick. She'd made an entry in it that morning, then slipped it underneath a pile of paperwork, confident that no one who worked there would disturb anything on her desk without checking with her first.
Of course she hadn't counted on the Doctor, she thought. There wasn't anything specific in there, and after Nick had found the book once and expressed a few reservations over it, she'd made it even more cryptic. However, she had a feeling that anyone with the proper background who was well versed in the subject matter wouldn't have any trouble figuring out her course of research. And presumably the Doctor had that knowledge.
"This is why you asked me about a cure," the Doctor said after a moment.
Natalie nodded, deciding it wasn't worth the effort in getting angry with him; she was convinced he was completely incorrigible.
He softly closed the book, and rose, taking several slow steps toward her, the journal still clutched in his hands. "This is how you know? You're searching for a cure?"
She nodded again, then reached out and took the book from his hands, hugging it to her chest momentarily, before slipping past him and sliding it into her briefcase.
"Someone you know?" he asked. There was a wariness in his tone, and she turned to find him studying her intently.
Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, Natalie turned instead to the sheet-covered body on the table. "I have work to do," she said softly, her voice tight. She'd sworn to keep Nick's secret, and hadn't made any promise to be forthcoming with the Doctor, even though he'd answered all her questions.
As she moved past him, he caught her arm, holding her in place. She couldn't look at him, couldn't meet his eyes. "Don't," he said softly, his lips inches from her ear, so close she could feel his warm breath on her neck. "Don't get too close to them, Natalie."
Her mind flashed to a similar phrase, uttered by Nick the night she'd met him. Don't get too close to me, he'd said.
"Don't trust them," the Doctor continued in that same whisper. She felt the fingers of his free hand move up to her shoulder. "They're monsters with human faces. They'll earn your trust, cast their spell and catch you in their web. And just when you begin to realize what's happening..."
His warm fingers slid along her shoulder and along the bare skin of her neck. Even as she stiffened in protest, anticipating his intent, his hand moved to grasp her jaw tightly, tilting her head to the side. Her neck was exposed to him, even as his other arm moved around her, pinning her tightly against him. Natalie gasped, more in outrage than fear as the Doctor said, "You're dead." He continued to hold her tightly there, as if reinforcing his point. Then he added. "If it's happened once, it's happened a thousand times. Don't be fooled by them. You were meant to run screaming into the night from them, to fight them with every weapon your fear places at your disposal."
He loosened his grip on her then, but did not release her. Natalie turned in his grasp to look up intently into his face as his hands rested lightly on her shoulders. "Fear is based on ignorance," she countered. She'd once told Nick the same thing, and she meant it now every bit as much as she did then, though a part of her wondered if the knowledge she'd gained was worth it. At her words, the Doctor smiled sadly down at her. "Us against them?" she asked. Natalie shook her head. "It's not that simple. At least not for me."
Just at that moment the door to the lab opened and a figure swathed in layer upon layer of cloth burst in. "Natalie!" he exclaimed, then paused, the arm unwinding the scarf from around his neck and face stopping in mid-air as he looked up at her and the Doctor. The surprise registered on his face for only a moment before dissolving into a frown.
Even if the small tendrils of smoke rising from the coat hadn't been a distinct clue the Doctor would have known instantly that this new arrival was a vampire. The pallor of his skin alone, was a dead giveaway, as was the arrogance in his gaze. Here was a creature who was accustomed to having power over others. He might have been like that as a mortal, though, the Doctor thought. With many of the older vampires the regal bearing gave away few secrets of their mortal life. And this one was old, very old. Of that he was certain.
He'd even go so far as to say that this was the vampire Natalie was attempting to cure.
She broke eye contact with him as soon as the door had opened, and now stood beneath his hands, a mildly shocked and guilty look on her face. "Nick!" she exclaimed, then turned hastily and looked back up at him. It must have dawned on her that they were standing rather close together and in a somewhat provocative postion, for she abruptly shrugged his hands away and stepped several paces back, that delightful blush finding its way across her face once again.
"I...hope I'm not interrupting anything," Nick said coldly, his eyes following Natalie across the room as she put distance between herself and the Doctor. He didn't like that, not the brittleness in Nick's voice, or the suggestivenes of his phrasing, nor the effect it seemed to have on Natlaie. There was a distinct possessiveness there that he didn't like at all.
"A cold front must have blown in," the Doctor said, feigning casualness, as he leaned back against the counter. Nick turned and looked at him sharply. "Doctor Lambert and I were just out and it was warming up nicely. I didn't realize Toronto weather was so quixotic." Then he turned to Natalie and added, "But now that you mention it, it seems as though the temperature in here has dropped a few degrees in the last five minutes or so." With satisfaction, he watched her lips twist into a small smile which she quickly hid by ducking her head.
"I'm glad you're here, Nick," she said.
"Jenny?" Nick said softly, turning back toward her. But not before the Doctor saw a momentary flash of anguish in Nick's blue eyes. It was brief, but there, and for one moment the Doctor began to think that this creature might really care.
Natalie shook her head. "No word yet. Reese was assigning a team to it when I lfet the scene."
Throwing a wary glance at him over his shoulder, Nick nodded. "Detective Hillman. She's good." Then Nick looked away, troubled. "Reese won't let me work on the case," he said. "He only called me as a courtesy."
"He's right, Nick," Natalie said. "You're too close to it. I'm too cloe to it too. I suspect they'll pull me off this before too much longer."
The Doctor nearly started when the phone on Natalie's desk rang shrilly. Taking a step back from Nick, she reached over and snatched it up. "Lambert."
Watching her expression as she listened, the Doctor knew that whoever it was was calling with bad news. He couldn't hear what was being said, but from his expression, Nick was obviously listening to every word. Just as Natalie was about to hang up Nick whirled and started for the door.
"Nick!" she called out in warning. "Don't do it. Reese means it. He'll have your badge if you show up."
When Nick turned his face was twisted with rage. "I can't just do nothing," he said hoarsely.
"What's happened?" the Doctor asked.
They both turned to look at him. Nick had obviously forgotten he was there, and now with the reminder focused on him intently. "Who are you?" Nick asked.
"This is the Doctor," Natalie interjected hastily before he could answer. "He's a...colleague of mine. I asked him to advise on this case since he was in town."
He could see that Nick wasn't buying this for a second and looked suspiciously back and forth at him and Natalie. Then he reached behind him and held the door open. "Would you excuse us. I need to speak to Doctor Lambert in private for a few moments."
He didn't like leaving Natalie alone with this creature, though she seemed to trust him well enough. Her mistake, he thought, as he moved past Nick. At the door he paused. "I'll be right outside, Natalie," he said.
As the door shut behind him, he walked across the hall and leaned against the wall. While his senses were superior to humans he could only make out the vaguest sound of their voices, but could distinguish no words. Nick sounded angry and frustrated, of that he was sure. And Natalie was attempting to placate him as best she could.
Why was this vampire so interested in the people here? For that matter, what was a vampire doing working as a police officer? How he'd managed to convince Natalie Lambert to trust him wasn't as much of a mystery for the Doctor. If what he'd seen so far was any indication, playing to her compassion would be an easy enough task for anyone, vampire, mortal, or extraterrestrial alike.
But the search for a cure was a puzzle. Was Nick seeking to regain his own mortality? Or did he have some other nefarious purpose in mind? The Doctor couldn't begin to imagine what that might be, and he hoped for Natalie's sake that Nick was seeking her help in good faith. He couldn't quite bring himself to give Nick the benefit of the doubt, but he would watch him carefully.
And what was Nick's relationship to Myra and Jenny Schanke, he wondered. Natalie had said, at the scene, that Myra's husband had been a colleague. Someone who worked here at the morgue perhaps? Or another police officer like Nick? It dawned on him then. Nick's partner, it had to be. That would explain Nick's concern for the little girl, whether genuine or scripted.
He knew from his many trips to this charming planet that vampire myths and legends abounded, but only he knew that they existed in fact as well as fiction. It stood to reason that a master vampire had been here, a member of that parasitic space-faring race that had been the ruin of many civilizations throughout the universe. He'd meant to go through the TARDIS databanks after that incident in e-space but never seemed to have found the time.
All the vampires had been destroyed, or rather would be when he killed the last one in e-space sometime in the future. But what about the originator of vampirism here on earth? Could that vampire still be around and up to something? Or at the very least not keeping its charges on a short enough leash?
He was duty bound to find out, he realized. Which meant he'd have to go back to the TARDIS for more information.
The Doctor pushed himself away from the wall and approached the closed door. When he lifted his hand to knock on it, it swung inward before he could make contact and Nick stormed out, colliding with him. Instantly, Nick pulled back and stepped to the side just as the Doctor did the same, and they nearly ran into one another again. This time, when Nick moved in the opposite direction the Doctor was ready for him and did the same, deliberately blocking his way. "In a hurry?" he asked.
If the coldness in Nick's eyes was any indication, he was not the least bit amused. Instead, he reached up with his left hand ahd put it on the Doctor's left shoulder. The Doctor noted that Nick used a little more force than was necessary, and gave him a shove that nearly sent him sprawling. As it was he was pushed back at a ninety degree angle as Nick brushed past him and started down the hallway.
Natalie darted out behind him. "Nick!" she yelled, then held up the scarf and baseball cap Nick had discarded as he'd entered the lab. With an angry growl, Nick whirled around and snatched the articles of clothing from Natalie's hands. "Tell Myra I'll be by later tonight," Natalie said softly as Nick slapped the hat onto his head, pushing the brim far down on his face then sullenly wrapped the scarf around his neck and chin. He glared coldly at Natalie, though his eyes darted over toward the Doctor from time to time. Then, without another word, Nick turned on his heel and stormed off down the hallway.
"I don't think he likes me very much," the Doctor said, ushering Natalie, who looked like she was about to cry, back into the lab.
"No," she replied, her voice with a slight tremor in it. "He's just worried about Jenny, that's all." She moved over to her desk and picked up the phone. He listened idly as she asked Jill to come back and put the body they'd just brought in back in cold storage.
"You have to go back out again, don't you?" he asked.
She nodded, then sighed. "That's what the call was earlier. They found one of the girls buried in the vegetable garden out back of the house."
"Jenny?" he asked. For Natalie's sake he hoped it wasn't her.
She shook her head slowly. "I don't know," she said, and her voice cracking miserably. "The body's been mutilated. They can't make a visual ID at the scene." Something seemed to drain out of her just then, and she sank slowly into her desk chair then dropped her face into her hands. He didn't know what to say; all he could think to do was place his hand gently on her shoulder.
After several moment, she lifted her head and leaned back in her chair. "I...signed off on her father's remains," she said quietly. "After the crash." Then she shook her head, biting her lower lip. "Now I might have to do the same thing for his daughter." Then she swallowed. "You can't come with me," she said matter-of-factly. "Reese won't stand for it."
The Doctor nodded. He understood that this had less to do with Reese than it did with Natalie herself. He'd never much cared for law enforcement officials--in his experience they tended to be little more than government sanctioned bullies for the most part, and the police here on earth, particularly at the time, were no exception. But what he did know, and admire about them was the sense of loyalty they felt for one another. It was a closed circle that was necessary for people who routinely risked their lives. The Doctor understood that the presence of an outsider would not be welcome here for the time being.
"I need to get something from the TARDIS," he said, and noted that she was obviously relieved that he didn't argue with her. He sensed she'd gotten more than her fill of that from her private conversation with Nick.
She stood up. "I don't have time to run you over there," she said, then reached for her purse. "I don't suppose you carry a ready supply of Canadian currency, do you?"
He frowned and dug into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief and his sonic screwdriver which he held out on his palm. "This is about all I ever really need," he said as she picked up the sonic screwdriver and examined it closely.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Oh, just a little gadget I dreamed up one day. It's a rather useful little tool. With it, I can poke my nose into just about anything. Which is why," he said holding up the piece of cloth, "I always make sure I have a clean hanky."
His attempt at humor worked, and she chuckled. "Well, when this is all over you'll have to show me how this thing works," she said handing the screwdriver back to him. "I will see you agaon, right?" she asked almost tentatively. "I mean, you aren't just going to go back to...the TARDIS and fly away again, are you?"
She'd said it lightly, but he heard the challenge beneath her words and tone. Natalie was afraid that he was just going to slip off without saying good-bye. How did she know, he wondered. He'd found that was always the best way--it didn't do anyone any good to get emotionally all tangled up with people when you ended up leaving them behind anyway.
He fixed her with a curious stare, and briefly considered putting her off. It was an easy enough thing to do, with a quip or two and a breezy manner. He'd done it hundreds of times in his haste to escape without any drawn out farewells.
But as he looked deeply into her hazel eyes, he was once again struck by the sense that she was somehow looking right through him, and would know if he was lying. Though it was underdeveloped and still evolving, there was plenty of evidence to indicate that certain humans were quite empathic. The Doctor suspected that Natalie Lambert was one of those people, though she was obviously quite unaware of her abilities, and in fact would probably find considerable peace of mind with a little training. Unchecked empaths, in his experience, could sometimes lose themselves completely or go to extreme lengths to reclaim their emotional identities when they were swallowed up by the demands other inadvertantly placed on their precarious talents.
It was because of that more than anything else that he couldn't quite bring himself to put her off. "And leave a good puzzle behind unsolved? I don't think I could do that even if I wanted to." They'd deal with parting when the time came; but if he asked her to accompany him maybe they wouldn't have to say good-bye, for a while anyway before she inevidably left him as they always did. It was something to think about anyway.
That answer seemed to satisfy her and she nodded, obviously relieved. "Good, because you promised to give me a tour of the TARDIS."
"And I wouldn't want to break my word," he said with a smile.
She pulled out a handful of bills and handed them to him. "This should be enough to get ou back to Nick's place, and back," she said. Pulling a pad over, she hastily scribbled something on the top sheet and handed it to him. He looked down at it and frowned. "Catwog Lee?" he asked.
"Gateway Lane," she said, snatching the sheet from his hand.
"No wonder I couldn't make heads or tails out of that journal of yours. I thought you were writing in code."
Natalie painstakingly printing the address and another below it before handing it back to him. "The first one is Nick's, where we met this morning. The second one is my apartment. My phone number is here," she said pointing with the pencil. "If worse comes to worst and you can't track me down, go to my apartment." Then with a rather wicked smile she added, "I'm sure you can let yourself in with that gadget so I won't bother giving you my spare set of keys. Just watch out for my guard cat."
"Guard cat?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "A vicious beast, I'll bet."
"Oh yeah," she said with mock seriousness. "He'll cuddle you to death if you're not careful."
"Thanks for the warning," he said, pocketing the slip of paper. "If anything happens, if things get out of hand and you can't find me, go to the TARDIS. It's the blue police box in the alley next to Nick's building. You can't miss it. There's a key over the door.
Natalie sucked in a huge mouthful of air and stood there holding it for several long seconds, wishing she could just float away. She was once again standing in the dining room of that little, not-quite-shabby suburban home that she'd visited earlier that day. The body in the corner had been replaced with a tape outline, marking the spot where, hours ago, Charlotte had been discarded.
Why hadn't she told Reese and the others that she simply couldn't do this, couldn't handle this? They would have understood and Natalie was certain Reese would have chided himself for not considering her feelings more.
As if in answer to her thoughts, Reese quietly let himself into the kitchen and walked toward her. "Photographer's nearly done, Doctor," he said.
Now, she chided herself. Tell him now and leave. Go back to the morgue. Go home. Go to the TARDIS. Go anywhere but get out of here now, a voice inside her ordered.
"I'll be right out," she said, nodding.
Reese gave her a funny look. "This is inappropriate, and a lot to ask, I know. But until we can get someone in from the Province I'm afraid I have to ask you to..."
"It's okay," she said abruptly. "This is my job. It's okay."
"It's not okay, and I promise I'll pull you off this as soon as I can."
She nodded slightly. No doubt Nick was talking to the vampire community about this, but his official hands were tied. That left only her to deal with the evidence. With a slight lurch of her stomach Natalie realized she'd have to stay on this case whether she wanted to or not, regardless of her own personal feelings on the matter or whatever horrors it might bring. Were he able to, Natalie knew Nick would do the same. How could she do any less?
She walked past him, placing her hand on the door, then paused, turning back to him. "I'll see this through to the end," she said, then pushed the door open and walked outside. It was early afternoon (check timing on this) now, and the day had warmed up considerably. Natalie shrugged, settling the cloth of her coat more comfortably over her shouders. It was the equivalent of a mental shake, and it gave her the small moment she needed to compose her thoughts before walking over to the cluster of detectives standing in the corner of the small garden.
The forensic team had already carefully moved the shallow layer of earth off the body, and Natalie studied the small, nude body lying face down in the grave. The body was filthy, but when Natalie spotted the dark blond hair, the same color hair that Jenny had, her heart gave a small lurch in her chest.
Please, a frantic voice whispered at the back of her head.
More to come...