**Tonight's reflection, gentle listeners, is on the nature of love. Love is both the object of our desire and that primal urge which drives us. It both commands and obeys us. It shapes our minds and our souls. We would die for love... and we would kill for it. Tonight, gentle listener, the NightCrawler wants to know-- what are *you* willing to do in the name of love?**
Nat snuggled deeper into the blanket as she sat on the couch listening to the NightCrawler. His question spoke to her. What *was* she willing to do for love? Tonight she had crossed a line she hadn't expected to cross. They'd nearly made love tonight. Nearly... but not quite. She trembled slightly in memory of his lips against hers and the pressure of his body on top of her own. She hadn't wanted it to stop this time, but it had. LaCroix had pulled away from her, unable to continue. His eyes hadn't gone completely red yet, but flecks of the beast could be seen in their blue depths. LaCroix had been scared. He'd said as much when he said he didn't trust himself. What happened in the bedroom had pushed LaCroix's powers of restraint to their limits. They both knew--from Natasha's experiences with him--that LaCroix had the strength to control his beast, but tonight was different.
Thinking back on it, Nat had to wonder what would have happened if he hadn't stopped? Would she be dead now or something else? Could she live her life as a vampire? They'd never discussed it seriously before, nor had *she* given much thought to it on her own. What would I have done, Nat thought, if Lucien had brought me across? Could I have given up everything I have... everything I am... for him?
You bet you could've! came Natasha's voice from the back of her mind. And you'd have loved it, too!
"How do you *know* that?" Nat asked aloud. She was suddenly glad no one was there to hear her talking to herself.
Because I *saw* the way you reacted to him today. You wanted him as much as I do, girlie. It sounded like Natasha was smirking at her. Besides, if you really had any doubts, you would have believed all that stuff what's-his-name told you.
"Nick. His name is Nick."
So? He's not important. Lucien is, Natasha countered. And besides, who cares really what *Nick* says? It wasn't true anyway.
"You don't know that, Tasha," said Nat. She fell silent as her attention was drawn suddenly back to the NightCrawler Show. LaCroix was expounding on the human need to twist facts to fit their own selfish purposes.
Kind of fitting, isn't it? That's exactly what what's-his-name does.
Does he? Nat thought, forcing Natasha out of her mind. Throwing the blanket aside, she jumped up and went to turn off the radio. Does he, really? How do I know which one of them is actually telling me the truth?
Seeds of doubt having been planted in her brain, Natalie began to ponder *everything* she knew about both her vampire men. Which one of them could benefit from lying to her? Were they lying? He's done it before, Nat... Nick's voice echoed in her brain once again.
"I have to know for certain..." Nat whispered, unaware that LaCroix had returned and was standing in the doorway.
"What was that, my dear?" he asked suddenly, causing her to jump. "What is it you need to know? Perhaps I may have an answer for you."
"Oh! Lucien, you startled me. I must not have heard you come in," she said, her words tumbling out in a rush.
"Apparently not. You seemed quite preoccupied just now. May I inquire as to the nature of your preoccupation?"
Don't tell him! Natasha was back. I *have* to know, Nat shot back at her mentally.
"Well, my dear?" LaCroix asked again in a more demanding tone. "Is something the matter? You seem pale. Are you ill?" He took a step towards her in a gesture of concern.
"No, I-- I'm not ill, Lucien."
"What, then?"
"I... I had a run in with Nick last night. He... said some things that--" she stopped short as a sob rose suddenly into her throat. "He... he said..." another sob came, and Natalie sank to the couch in tears that she hadn't realized had been there. She didn't really want to know the truth. The truth could ruin her life and take away the man she loved.
"What did Nicholas say, ma petite? Something about me, perhaps? Some sharp, hateful thing intended to make you hate me?" He was sitting beside her now, his arms around her--comforting and strong. His voice, however soothing, also held a note of anger.
She nodded, her cheek brushing against the softness of his Armani suit. "I... didn't believe him..." she choked out.
"Of course not," LaCroix purred. "Why would you have reason to believe him?" He kissed the top of her head and stood.
"W-where are you going, Lucien?" she asked.
"Nicholas made a mistake by upsetting you and making you cry, ma petite. He must be taught manners," was LaCroix's response. Again Natalie heard the anger in voice, stronger now.
A sudden fear gripped her. What would he do? She did not try and stop him, however.
See? I knew you wouldn't ask him. It *wasn't* that important after all, gloated Natasha at Nat's failure to ask about Fleur.
"Lucien!" Nat cried out suddenly, stopping him at the door. He turned to face her. "Please, Lucien, don't. Stay here with me. I don't want to cause problems between you and Nick."
"You haven't caused the problem, my dear, Nicholas has. He *must* pay." He turned again to leave.
Forgetting the perfection of vampiric hearing, Natalie whispered in defeat," Who was she, Lucien? Who was Fleur?"
The question stopped him from flying off, dropping him to the ground like a dead-weight. When he turned back to her, his features had gone cold and expressionless. "Where did you hear that name, Natalie?" he asked, his tone as icy as the rest of him.
"Nick. I... Lucien, who is she?" Nat stammered, unable to comprehend the sudden change in him.
LaCroix closed his eyes in what Nat assumed was an effort to control his anger. "Nicholas..." he whispered softly before opening his eyes again. She could see hate in them. "You must never speak that name in this house again, Natalie. Do you hear me? *Never.*" His voice was cold, cruel, and commanding. She'd never seen him like this before.
"But, Lucien! I must know who--"
"No!" LaCroix roared, making no effort to control his anger now. "You have no need of that information. If you love me, you will forget you ever heard her name."
"If I love you! If *you* loved me, you would tell me!" Nat countered, becoming angry herself.
"That I cannot do, Natalie. Please honor my wishes and say nothing of it again."
"I won't. I want to know. Nick said--"
"So, you believe him now, do you? Ask him then, for I will not tell you." His voice was so cold now, Nat could *feel* it. He turned suddenly and flew away without another word.
Nat sank to the couch again, crying helplessly. "What have done?" she sobbed aloud in the all-too-empty room.
You screwed up everything, that's
what you've done, Natasha snapped at her before receding in to Nat's subconscious
and leaving her utterly alone.