Pre-text anecdote: Okay, this is a continuation of my Professor universe that came to me while I was taking down the garbage one rainy afternoon. As I was walking along with the trashcan a person walked by and I sneezed right as they passed, then it occurred to me... what if... immortals made vampires sneeze whenever they were near one another. Kind of like an allergy. Of course, that didn't happen in the last one with Schanke...to uh... suit my purposes. Yes...that sounds good. So, here goes..

Disclaimer: see last story.

Note on Text: Everyone be sure to thank Darius for allowing me to cast him in my story. If you all remember, I made him a free character last time so technically, I couldn't manipulate him anymore. He has graciously taken a vacation from helping orphans in Tahiti to appear in this story. That is all.

WARNING:

You HAVE to read the "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S Eliot to understand this. Its just a poem so go on, look it up on the internet...or go here:

The beginning:

S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse

A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,

Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.

Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo

Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero,

Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

( _If i thought that that i was replying

to someone who would ever return to the world,

this flame would cease to flicker.

But, since no one ever returns from these depths alive,

if what I've heard is true,

I will answer you without fear of infamy. 

~excerpt from Dante's Inferno._ )

In the beginning, it was dark...

"Nick."

"hmph...."

"Nick!"

"Wha..."

Then Natalie hit the switch and there was light.

"Ah! Nat! turn off the light and go back to sleep."

"No way, lazy bones. You may not have any classes in the summer but we still have a store to run."

"No... you have a store to run, I have a vacation to enjoy."

"Get up! You are going to help. I have two people gone for the week and I need another hand."

"So?"

"So! Get up and get down there."

"Nat, the sun hasn't even set yet."

"Your point?  It's not like you'll be outside."

"Nat!!" Nick moaned pitifully, but Natalie was unmoved.

"Get up NOW!!"

Nick sighed tiredly and sat up, shaking his head. no rest for the weary then sulked off to take a shower.

Natalie watched his slowly retreating back with a smile of pleasure... then chuckled softly to herself... "At least we know who really wears the fangs in this family..."

Meanwhile...

"This is so stupid." Duncan sighed softly to himself. Joe had told him there was a new immortal who had just taken up residence in New York and he needed someone to set his facts straight real quick before he lost his head. Literally. So, like the handsome immortal boy scout that he was, he had rushed off to fill the slot. Now he was walking around the big apple with no clue as to where to start looking. Behind the buildings, evening was spread out on the sky like a patient etherized upon a table...

("Thank you J. Alfred Prufrock for that little image." He muttered.)

 and he was still no closer to finding him then when he had started out that morning. He had searched through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels and sawdust restaurants with oyster shells: streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent. But, he had seen neither hide nor hair of his quarry and the ruggedly handsome immortal was starting to feel every bit of his age. MacLeod sighed and checked his watch only half an hour until he was supposed to meet Galen. Picking up his tired feet, Mac slogged wearily back into his rental car and pulled out a well folded map. After some quick glancing and a brief battle refolding the darn thing he was ready to make his way to the all-night coffee shop that Galen had chosen to meet him at.

As Mac drove he couldn't help but feel a little nervous about meeting Galen. It had been a long time since they had seen one another but his memories were not exactly pleasant. Nothing remarkable enough to warrant a flashback but she definitely left a distinct mark on your memory. She was flashy and rude, not to mention a little annoying but he had no alternative. Mac needed to find this new immortal, wherever he was, before someone with less honorable intentions decided to take advantage of the newbie. If that meant striking up relations with some unpleasant company then so be it.

No matter,

How....

Painful.

.....

Nick glided and wove amongst the long line of customers to deliver his orders. Nick balanced the two trays of cups and plates with an ease and agility that would have made any experienced waiter burn with envy; and he wasn't even breaking a sweat. But far be it for him to gloat about it, at least aloud. At the moment he was too busy trying to annoy Natalie by being careless with the crockery.

"Nick! Slow down...for the love of pete. Your going to hurt someone rushing around like that!"

Nick turned back to the counter where Natalie was supervising the room in general and shot her a smile that seemed to say, "you asked me to work, didn't you?"

"Don't give me that look!" She said calmly. She didn't need to shout, even over the chatter of the customers come to get their last order of the day before heading home, Nick would hear her. He had better hear her, or there would be hell to pay.

Natalie watched helplessly as Nick narrowly avoided crashing into a woman who was on her way to the table he was busy cleaning and some of the dishes on the top of the monstrous pile he was carrying shifted ominously.

"Nick, so help me... if you do not slow down and behave like a grown-up by the time I count to three..."

Nick's only response was to settle one of her favorite coffee mugs precariously on the top of his pile and smile evilly.

Duncan found a parking spot within a mile of his actual destination and offered up a prayer of thanks for that particular miracle. No sense in not giving credit where credit was due. He considered asking for a small dose of patience so he could survive this meeting with some of his sanity mostly intact but opted to rely on the little he came by naturally. That should be enough, hopefully it would be enough. It had better be enough. Oh please, let it be enough.

As Mac rounded the corner he spotted the sign, N&N's, the two letters where twirled and rather artistically done, not gaudy and colorful but tasteful. Unlike the person standing outside waiting for him. Some one had apparently forgotten to inform Galen that the 80's were over. Acid washed jeans, a big purple sweater, huge earrings, and huge hair. Crimped, puffed, and fried until it looked like it might snap off at any time. Yep, Galen had not changed a bit since the last time they had met. At least she was easy to recognize, thank god for small miracles.

As soon as she saw Duncan, Galen gave a deafening shriek and ran over to him. She hit him at full speed and it was all Mac could do to keep them both from toppling to the ground.

"Oh!! Mackey!! I is so glad you came!!" She chirped.

"Hello Galen..." He chuckled not very convincingly. this is all just a bad dream

"Oh!! My little Mackey! I is so glad, so glad! Oh, to think you came all they way here to see ME!!" The last word was shouted squeakily and shrilly and Duncan desperately replied,

"Well, to lead you to an overwhelming question..."

Galen drew breath as if to speak again but Duncan quickly stopped her,

"Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?' Let us go and make out visit."

Duncan gestured at the coffee shop and smiled. Caffeine...not his usual first choice for a liquid restorative but he already felt like he was moving through soggy oatmeal and it was getting really hard to focus his eyes, the last thing he needed was alcohol. At least Galen's shrill voice and constant movement kept him annoyed enough to keep him awake.

Nick was persisting in his campaign to annoy Natalie without hardily slowing a bit. Even as the going home rush was over and the coffee shop started to fill with the type who prefer to drink something not exactly on the menu Nick still whipped around like a madman, threatening destruction of her crockery at every turn. Natalie poured out several mugs of what her regulars had dubbed, the "house special," and contemplated the demise of her husband. There was no way he was getting away with this kind of thing. Just think of the example he setting for the others. Natalie clucked in disgust. She had gone back to supervising the room in general when the bell over the door caught her attention. Not many came in at this hour without her "feeling" them first. She glanced at Nick but he looked just as surprised as she was, so Nat just shrugged and addressed the man and oddly dressed woman who had just entered...

"Hello, welcome the N&N's, I'm Natalie. How can I help you tonight?"

The man perked up and walked, trudged would be a more accurate word, over to Natalie at the counter. As he walked, he brushed past several customers and Nick, who was balancing a highly stacked tray of cups with one hand and refilling several discreet black coffee mugs with the other. Almost at the same time, every vampire the man had walked by all sneezed violently. Most of them knew what was coming and managed to cover their mouths but Nick, who was unused to such things, was caught unawares and unbalanced.

Natalie watched, almost in slow motion as the tray went toppling from his hands. The cups and plates seemed to hang suspended in the air, their deadly, staining contents frozen for one second in time. Without even thinking about it, Natalie ran over to tray and caught it before that one shining instant was over and time started to move again. But as she was mentally congratulating herself she felt a tickle in her own nose. It hadn't been all that long ago that she had been mortal and Nat remembered exactly what that meant...

"Nick, take the tray, I'm going to sneeze..."

Nick, who was still recovering from such an unusual occurrence and from seeing Natalie move that fast could only stare at her...

"Nick!"

Fortunately, a pair of strong hands grabbed the overloaded tray just as Natalie sneezed and the day was saved.

Nat wiped her nose on her apron and retrieved the tray from Duncan's hands.

"Thank you so much." Natalie smiled, and then shot a look at Nick that was anything but pleasant.

"It's a miracle you caught it in the first place. I don't think I have ever seen anyone move that fast..." Come to think of it... did I see her move?

Natalie laughed, "Nothing is impossible when the upholstery is in danger."

Everyone was caught off guard by an explosion of what sounded like a squeaking wheel, a pig, and an excited monkey all at once, coming from the oddly dressed woman with the really big hair. That is the only possible way to describe the sound of Galen's laughter. So needless to say, all the vampires were positively in anguish.

"Turn it off!" Nick muttered emphatically.

"I can't!" Duncan whispered back.

Fortunately the laughing spell was over quickly and Galen instead began to shake violently and slap her leg several times. Nick and Duncan stood side by side watching the strange display. Duncan still held the tray but both of their attentions were on the odd woman beating her leg in the middle of the room, so neither really noticed.

"What's it doing?" Nick whispered.

"I have no idea. I think she is laughing."

"At least she's not laughing out loud any more."

As they watched, nearly all the vampires in the room sneezed again, including Nick. Duncan was about to make a statement about the sudden rash of sneezing when Natalie appeared on the scene.

As soon as Galen had started up her laughing fit, as a result of what was later deduced to be Natalie's comment, Natalie had sprung to action. She was just returning during the latest sneezing fit with an extra-large mug of N&N's best coffee. Nat walked quickly over to Galen and rather forcefully grabbed the odd woman's arm and shoved the coffee in her fist.

"Here, you are the 1000th customer. Thank you for stopping by!"

Galen stopped her shaking and leg-slapping regarded her cup of coffee silently. Then, miraculously, she sat and began to quietly sip her drink. And thus did Natalie save the day.

Nick and Duncan were still both numbly contemplating the events of the last few minutes when Natalie broke them out of their thoughts.

"Thank you for rescuing the tray!" Natalie said brightly. Duncan turned his gaze slowly to meet Natalie's then replied quickly.

"Oh it was nothing I assure you. I am sorry for my...companion. I really don't know why she is like that..."

Natalie smiled brightly at Duncan and her smile only brightened when she felt the stirrings of jealousy along her link with Nick. Serves you right! 

"I don't think I caught your name?"

"Duncan MacCloud."

"Well Duncan. I think you deserve a reward for saving my husband from his own childish stupidity"

Nick's eyes went wide and Natalie thought she could detect a faint hint of a blush on his pale cheeks. Nick harrumphed loudly and stomped off through the door that led upstairs.

"I'm sorry if I..." Duncan began but Natalie cut him off.

"It's okay. Just give him a few minutes until he figures out I am right then he be back down."

"I hope you are right... I am sorry about if I caused any trouble."

Natalie shook her head and looked over at the door through  which Nick had just disappeared.

"Perhaps I should go after him... If you stop by tomorrow night I'm sure I will be able to scrounge up a free cup of coffee as a thank you."

"Thank you, I think I will."

"It was nice meeting you Mr. Duncan."

"The pleasure was all mine my Lady." And Duncan bowed and brought Natalie's hand to his lips in a way that reminded Natalie of something Nick might do.

And with that Natalie smiled and turned to follow Nick, calling to one of the hired help to watch things for awhile.

Duncan nodded and turned to go have that long overdue talk with Galen about the whereabouts of any new immortals.

Natalie watched him go and join his companion then followed her husband up the stairs. The rest of the staff could handle it for now... she had some talking to do.

Nick stood at the window staring out at the New York skyline. His pale and handsome profile stood out against the black window panes. Natalie walked gracefully over to him and snaked an arm around his waist. To her surprise he didn't push her away and instead wrapped and arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"It's okay." She replied, laying her head on his chest and savoring his unique scent as she gazed at the night world outside.

"Should you be up here? You know I have a fifteen minute time limit on brooding these days. I would have come down soon..."

Natalie looked up to meet her husband's softly smiling face.

"They will be all right. In the room the women come and go, talking of Michelangelo."

Nick nodded and turned back to the window. Natalie gazed out as well and saw the beginnings of a yellow fog gathering outside. The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes. The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes, licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys. As they watched, the yellow smoke slipped past the terrace, made a sudden leap, and seeing that it was a soft October night, curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

Natalie stared quietly for a few moments then her mind started to drabble about all the time she was wasting standing there and she chuckled softly.

"What is it?" Nick asked quietly.

"I don't think my brain has gotten the memo that I have unlimited time now."

Nick chuckled. "Give it a few centuries and it will figure it out."

Natalie reached up and tugged on a random curl that had fallen across his forehead.

"Indeed?" she asked softly.

"And indeed there will be time." Nick said quietly, hugging Natalie closer. "For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, rubbing its back upon the window-panes; there will be time, there will be time to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet, there will be time to murder and create, and time for all the works and days of hands that lift and drop a question on your plate."

"So much..." Natalie giggled.

"Yes..." Nick smiled and turned so he could hold Natalie closer still, "Time for you and time for me, and time yet doe a hundred indecisions and hundred visions and revisions, before taking of toast and tea."

Natalie sighed reached up to kiss Nick deeply.

"I take it then that I am forgiven?" Nick asked boyishly.

"Yes!" Natalie laughed. "But I must go, in the room the women come and go, talking of Michelangelo."

Later that evening, Nick and Nat lay sleeping. Long ago having forgotten the strange events of that night and curled up together in comfort. But all that was shattered by the ringing of the telephone....

::RING::

"Nick!"

"Humph...."

"Nick, get s' telephone..."

"Hmm..."

"Fine! I'll g' it.."

Natalie reluctantly quit the comfort of the bed and walked over to where the phone was on the desk in the corner of the room.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other line was the last sound she ever expected to hear on the phone and it was she could do to keeping from dropping the phone.

"Natalie, please. I must speak to Nicholas." Lacroix muttered silkily.

Natalie struggled to maintain a hold on the phone and scrambled over to shake Nick violently.

"Nick wake up! It Lacroix...."

At the sound of that name Nick awoke instantly and grabbed the phone.

"Lacroix?"

"Nicholas. I must speak with you about something very important."

"Master what is it?" Nick asked worriedly. Lacroix never wanted to talk about something important.

"Do you ever recall me telling you about a race of Immortal beings that are not vampires yet still ageless?" Lacroix's voice trailed off and he was silent for another moment than he spoke again.

"This may seem odd Nicholas, but... Have you been...sneezing lately?"

Nick thought for a moment. The events of the day came rushing back. The strange man and all that had happened after he arrived in the shop flashed in his mind. What did Lacroix have to do with this? Suspiciously he replied,

"Yes, I have. Lacroix what have you been doing?"

Nicholas heard Lacroix snort derisively at his tone and braced himself for the insult he knew was coming. But, the expected retort was missing, instead Lacroix continued without comment,

"Nicholas, I know you remember when we talked about the creatures that call themselves Immortals. Then you know I told you that it was only a silly myth. Nicholas, I... was mistaken."         

Nick was just plain shocked. There was no other word that could describe his emotion state. Not only had Lacroix not verbally abused him for not being respectful, but he had admitted a mistake.

Wait a minute... a mistake... about Immortals.... and he asked about sneezing......

It all clicked into place. Despite his sometime hasty actions, Nick really wasn't stupid by any means.

"You mean.... these... immortals are real. And we....sneeze when they are around?"

"Indeed, that seems to be the way we...sense... them."

Nick paused for a moment. The image of the dark haired Scottish man and his odd friend flashed across his mind and he quickly covered the receiver with his hand and turned to where Nat still lay on the bed.

"Nat!"

"Mmmph"

"What was that guys name?"

"What....guy?"

"The guy who saved the tray."

"Oh...uhh... Duncan something-or-other"

"Did he say anything else?"

"Said he'd come tomorrow..."

"Good."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you in minute."

"Mmmph!"

"In a minute!"

Nick took his hand off the receiver and addressed his master again.

"Thank you father, but I must go..."

"Don't get into trouble Nicholas."

"I won't!"

"And do not tell anyone what I have told you."

"Yes sir. But, why?" Nick replied, wonderingly. Why was it a secret?

"Because I do not know if she would appreciate me sharing her secret."

"Who is 'she'"

"Let us just say an old acquaintance ran into me today."

Nick could tell by his tone that that was all he was going to get out of his master. So he beat down his curiosity and said his farewells. Setting down the phone he turned back to Natalie.

She pulled him back into bed and snuggled up against his chest, gently nuzzling his neck. She whispered softly before they both drifted back off to sleep,

"What did he want?"

"Natalie," Nick rolled on his side and looked Nat in the eyes, playing absent mindedly with a lock of her curly hair with his fingers.

"Lacroix once told me about a race of beings who are Immortal yet they aren't vampires. They move through the centuries as we do but do not fear the sun, or holy objects. They are human except for that fact that when they die, they don't stay dead."

"Immortals?"

"Yeah... He always said they where a stupid myth..."

"Are they what he called about?"

"He was asking if we had been sneezing lately..."

"Yeah today..." Then Natalie saw it all fall into place. She may have been sleepy but she wasn't that sleepy.

"You mean, we sneeze when they are around. That's what you meant when you said that."

"Yes."

"Then Duncan today was a...."

"An Immortal."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Are you going to talk to him tomorrow or something."

Nick fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a few moments but continued after he finally determined that it was not going to reveal any easy answers.

"I don't think so. I shouldn't even be telling you, Lacroix made me promise to keep it a secret."

"My lips are sealed."

Nick chuckled and snuggled more comfortably into the sheets.

"Lets worry about this tomorrow."

"Agreed."

And they both drifted back into to sleep.

Meanwhile, not so far away, a certain former detective, still slightly bald though considerably less round, was wandering aimlessly along the road as the sun was rising behind the New York skyline.

As he walked he mused to himself,

"For I have known them all already, known them all—Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons."
 

He chuckled insanely to himself and wobbled slightly as he walked. Unconsciously several of the passersby changed the direction of their walk to take them farther away from the chuckling, bald man weaving down the sidewalk. Schanke threw his head back and spun around, yelling,

"I know the voices dying with a dying fall, Beneath the music from a farther room."

Coming to a stop and he whispered,

"So how should I presume?"

Blinking at some of the passersby who had stopped to stare he continued his walk again. This time without the weaving... Don Schanke had been like that for a while now. Precisely, as long as he could remember which was about two years since he had woken up.

Woken up. That's what he had dubbed it. His... awakening. His first memories went no farther back then the moment he had awoken in a cold, dark box. Six feet under.

Sometimes the memories came back in his dreams, his nightmares. The soft tinkling of a music box then the deafening shout. The screams, the fire, the cold hot flame of death and pain. Then the stillness, the absolute peace, then the awakening.

He didn't really remember how he had gotten out of that cold box. All he could remember was walking. Just like he was doing now. Sometimes he would stop to eat or drink, sometimes. But mostly he walked. He walked and tried to remember. To find all that he had lost. Who had he been? What had happened? Who were the people he saw in his dreams?

The ghostly pale face framed with blond hair and two eyes like blue fire. Sometimes the eyes where yellow and sometimes the face was flying out of the darkness. Then there was the kind woman with the chocolate eyes. And someone else, a woman, lovely and beautiful, and a young girl... staring at him with accusing eyes. Why did you leave us?

Schanke whispered to himself, without thinking,

"Myra, Jenny..."

Then he started to weave again...

"And I have known the eyes already, known them all-  The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase, and when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin. When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, the how should I begin to spit out the butt-ends of my days and ways?"

Stopping he whispered to himself...

"And how should I presume?"

A strong arm grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Schanke found himself facing a dark looking man with long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. The voice speaking to him had an odd accent, Scottish or something... But Schanke was still caught up in his fit of insanity and his gaze focused on the arm that held him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a whisper, a breath of memory,

Your questions will be answered by a man with a Scottish accent very soon, I promise.

But Schanke wasn't listening, he was looking at the arm that kept him from continuing his walk.... Absently he started to speak softly, to himself,

"And I have known the arms already, known them all—Arms that are braceleted and white and bare (but in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!) It is perfume from a dress the makes me so digress? Arms that lie along a table, or wrap around a shawl.  And should I then presume?"

Schanke raised his eyes to gaze into the eyes of the Scottish man, questioningly and desperately.

"And how should I begin?"