Generally takes place near the beginning of the first season.
.
.
Nick (Nicolas Knight, our favorite vampire cop) walked down the steps and over to the quiet bar and asked Miklos, the Raven's resident bartender, "She's in the back?" He was referring to Janette DuCharme, the Raven's proprietor and Nick's long-time friend, sometime lover, and fellow vampire.
"Yes, Nick, and she's in a frightful state, but I don't know if she's angry or upset. Most likely both."
"Do *you* have any idea what happened?"
"No. Well, . . . uh, yes. That romantic thing you mentioned?"
"Um," Nick said non-committedly.
Nick walked to the back of the Raven where Janette kept her office and tapped lightly on the door.
"Janette"
"Go away!"
"Come on, Janette, you've got to talk to me sooner or later. Let's make it sooner and get it over with."
Janette threw open the office door and stomped back to her desk and stood beside it.
"Janette," Nick said, "this is not like you. *You're* the calm, rational one who always has her wits about her. What's happened? Please."
"Tcha!" she said disgustedly. "Men!"
Nick just looked at her but he raised his eyebrows.
"Don't you raise our eyebrows to me, Nicola' de Brabant. You're a man, you know what's going on." She flounced into her chair and said, "David!"
Nick said quietly, Oh," with knowledge slowly dawning on his face. He also tried to conceal the beginnings of a smirk.
.
Two weeks back, Janette had stopped at Nick's loft.
Nick took one look at her and said, "Good grief, girl, you're practically glowing. What's going on?"
Janette then proceeded to share her enthusiastic, good news with Nick about a charming, young, gorgeous, handsome vampire, new to the area and the Raven. She had not been this excited about a male vampire, or any kind of male, for years, hundreds of years. She gushed.
Nick asked, "Janette, what is going on here. Have you swallowed a love potion or something? You don't gush, my dear. I should think you would regard it as 'unseemly'."
"Oh, but Nicola' he's as charming as you ever were, and as good looking – um, almost as good looking. He speaks my old dialect of French – well, close anyway. And, he is knowledgeable about wines, and is nice.
"Tell me true, Nicola, am I, as they say, 'losing it'? I have not felt this way about someone else since St. Germaine, and you know what happened there."
'Nicola' replied, "Oh, yes, the Count's son . . . . We had to leave rather quickly as I recall."
.
The scene opens in a lovely Third Empire bedroom. The reflection of the sun can barely be seen in some of the mirrored walls. The young couple was all dishabille with bed coves tossed here, robes tossed there, as they stirred slowly waking. The young man – was he a groom? Truly she did not know, nor, actually did she care – lay akimbo on the bed, his head in his hands, as he gazed at the beautiful brunette lying across the top of the bed, pale skin, dark hair, red, red, lips. He rubbed his neck. It was a bit sore, but he knew why and really approved. A cart with breakfast matter, coffees, teas, pastries stood nearby. Servants in the next room ready to do their bidding are the slightest call. It was as nice as a five-star hotel in Paris itself.
She looked up as saw him looking at her. She would have blushed if she were capable of that. She smiled and held out her had to him, which he took and kissed lightly. This is what life was all about, except for that distressing noise from somewhere afar – in the next hall? on the floor below? from the garden maybe.
It was slightly annoying, like a buzzing fly at a picnic. But, distressingly, it kept getting louder.
Muffled cries came from the servant's in the next room, and the bedroom door were flung wildly open with Count Henri himself glaring at the young couple.
Janette: Henri!
Henri: Phillip!
Phillip: Father!
Janette: Father?
Henri: Janette, my dear!
Phillip: 'My dear?'
Janette: Father!
Henri: Wretched woman!
Phillip: No, grace personified, Father
Henri: My mistress, my son!
Phillip: Janette!
Janette: Oh, Phillip!
Janette and Henri: Phillip, how could you!
Count Henri fumed, glowered, and was about to explode. Phillip stood in front of his father glaring and fuming himself while trying to think about what to say. Janette, as quietly as she could, gather some sheets about herself and slowly moved to the room's opposite door, through which she slipped barely noticed.
.
Janette was complining to Nick, "We have to get moving. That oh, so, charmant, stable boy turns out to be the Count's heir apparent." She madly threw things into suitcases and travel bags. "We have to *leave"; come, help me!"
"Janette," Nick said, "You should have known he was no stable boy. Did you look at his hands?"
She looked at her own hands, somewhat dreamily, "No, I did not *look* at them, but . . . ,"
Nick did all he could not to laugh out loud. Janette frowned at him.
"Hurry, I saw the Count on the way up here with several guards in tow," Nick continued. "Leave those things, we can get more later and somewhere else. Now, we have to get out and not let it be seen where we were going!"
"Ah, oui. Very well, just leave it all. And let us go," she said as she maneuvered towards the window. But she turned around and ran over to her dresser and grabbed the jewels that the Count had given her. "I am *not* leaving these," she said as she threw them into a small purse, left the room for the balcony, and the freedom of flight.
.
"But, Janette, you were never one to lose your head over a pretty face. Sad to say, that was usually me."
"Oh, Nicola', he is nice, and suave, and smart – I think it's the 'smart' that has done it. He has shown me a way to save 40% on my wine purchases. How could I not fall in love with that?"
" 'Love', Janette?" Nick said quietly.
"You know what I mean, mon cher, you have been there so many times yourself, 'ave you not?"
"True. But, take it a bit slower, please? This enthusiasm is so unlike you. Next thing you know, you'll be hugging and kissing all the patrons and salesmen."
"Ah, vous savez raison. Perhaps a little slower, but be happy for me," she pleaded, " 'ow often do *I* get to be the center of one's attention. As much as you still care, you yet have the police, and Natalie, and Schanke, and Stonetree . . . oh, everything." She turned, looked him straight in the eye, made an overly fancy curtsy, and left the loft.
Nick said to himself, "You know, if LaCroix were still alive, I might ask him for advice about this *romance*."
.
A couple of days later, Nick stopped at the Raven to see how "things" were progressing and Miklos called him over for a word or maybe several.
"Is she going to be alright, Nick? She's so, so, uh, not herself!"
"I think," Nick said to Miklos, "that we are just going to have to put up with it for a while. We forget sometimes that the heart of a young woman beats under that hard, sardonic shell of an exterior that she has cultivate so long and so well, that is, if we had hearts that beat. You haven't known her as long as I have, and even I don't know her whole story, but she was brought across as a young woman, and she had a horrible life beforehand, as well as a horrible family who did horrible things to her. Now, about once every century she gets it into her head that she needs a "fling" or something. I've seen it before and it won't last long. We just have to be there to help her after the passion passes."
"But what do I do for now, Nick?"
"Just nod, smile politely or knowingly, and move on down the bar to take care of another customer, or just clean some glasses."
.
"Ah, I am sorry, Nicola'. You are so patient with me when I am like this. I discovered that David was 'two-timing' me – is that the phrase? Oh, why do I let this 'appen to me?" she said plaintively.
And then, she looked straight at him fiercely and said, "And if you dare to say 'I told you so', I will scratch your eyes out!
Nick did his best to look solemn – he thought about his last performance review with Captain Stonetree – that helped. He knew that the slightest little upcurve of his mouth would be a disaster. But he controlled himself.
He walked over to Janette and took her in his arms, her head on his chest, his holding her waist, "It will be alright, Janette. You've been there for me so many, many times, I can be there for you once in a while.
"How about we turn to bar over to Miklos for a few days – I can get a few days off from the precinct – and I'll take you to Montreal for some shopping. I'll even sit in the salon's drawing room while you try dresses on."
She hugged Nick tight and said, "You always know the right thing to say, Nicola'. And sometimes the right thing to *not* say. Merci, mon amor." She smiled and relaxed against him, and he against her. 'We can leave as soon as it's mid-night."
.
.end
