A few hours later Nick was returning from the kitchen and two more bottles when he found Maura getting dressed. She'd made the bed and was laying out work clothes for later. He knew she'd slept fitfully at best, and guessed at bad dreams. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face pale.
"What's this? You're planning to go to work?" His tone told her what he thought of that.
She gestured edgily, arguing pre-emptively. "Well what else am I supposed to do? I'm not gonna take to my bed, I'm not sick. I need to get back to normal, nothing else makes sense, does it?"
"Come on, be sensible. Something terrible has happened to you,"
She cut him off. "To me? It's Christopher who's dead, not me." Her voice didn't waver, which surprised him.
Nick went to her, suppressing with a mighty effort the urge to start putting her things away again. How often had he seen this need to rush on, in the friends and families of victims? "But you're the one left with the loss. You need to give yourself a little time to deal with it. I'm going to call the precinct, get a few days myself."
"And do what? Babysit me? And what does that mean, 'deal with it'. There's no 'deal with it', there's just getting on with it. Christ, Nick, you think I've never lost anyone before?"
"Not like this."
She ignored the comment. "You're not gonna drive me to the club anyway, are you?" She was beginning to get pissed off.
"You're not the only strong will in the house."
It occurred to her she could call Vachon for a lift, but once he knew what had happened he'd be as likely to refuse. These creatures stuck together like vampire Velcro, damn them. She pressed a hand to her forehead. "Okay, so what do you propose? Hanging around staring at the fire, wallowing in angst? Those are your hobbies, not mine." Shit, but that was cruel. He was trying like hell to help, and she was trying like hell to pick a fight so he'd tell her to fuck off. As if that would happen. Nick could grow a hide like a rhino when he felt like it.
With just the barest edge, he replied, "Don't forget guilt and self-doubt." He tried to slow her as she pushed past him but she shook him off, taking the stairs two at a time. He followed more slowly. "How about I make some of that herbal tea you like," he went to the kitchen not waiting for the answer and took down the tin of chamomile, filled the electric kettle and the tea ball and rinsed the pot with hot water from the tap.
"I'm not in the mood for herbal tea, thanks." She slammed onto the couch and played with the blinds, deliberately making the sunlight crawl across the floor until it stopped just short of where Nick stood.
"Jack, then." He sidestepped the bars of light on the floor and reached behind the bar for a rocks glass and the bourbon, pouring a generous measure.
"Neat," he handed it to her as a waiter would, then stood back to regard her calmly. "I'm not going to fight with you. But I'm not going to help you off the deep end, either."
"You just did," she stood in his face and slugged the whole glass – at least a double if not more, Nick figured – down in a single gulp. Maura hadn't eaten since sometime the day before, so the effect was dramatic and immediate.
"Bastard," she slurred as she threw herself back on back on the couch. He took the glass from her hand as she went down and leaned into her face with a grim smile.
"That's right," he announced before returning to the kitchen.
"I really hate you sometimes, you think you're so fucking smart." She tipped over sideways and curled up, scowling.
Nick returned and sat down next to her as if it were just another day off. "Hate me all you want. I love you and I won't let you do this alone. Not that you don't have your own impressive style, in terms of alcohol poisoning and throwing furniture." The words sounded humorous but his expression was serious. As suddenly as it came, her fury deserted her and she groped for his hand. He took both of hers in one of his, scooting over so she lay in his lap, stroking her forehead with his free hand.
"It's like a minefield, isn't it," he told her gently, "that's okay, we'll navigate it together. Blind leading the blind."
"Whether I want to or not."
"No question." He bent to kiss her mouth, grimacing at the taste of bourbon. "Why didn't I suggest vodka," he muttered. She turned her head and kissed his stomach, leaving her face there afterward.
"I know, okay? I know. I'm really, really trying even though it doesn't seem like it."
"Hey," he turned her head. "You don't have to 'try' anything, or be any way." Seeing the earnest way she stared into his eyes he added, "You're nothing you shouldn't be." He slid out from under her and arranged some floor pillows and an afghan in front of the fireplace he'd just lit. "Come on, just rest with me a bit, okay?" She was half drunk by now, so he had to help her.
"I'm sorry, Just Nick," she moaned as he settled them both comfortably amid the pillows and covered them up, her head on his shoulder and his arms close around her. "I'm just no good at this grief shit, you know? I never was. I overcompensate and project, and beat you up for something you can't fix."
"Stop analyzing, Sweet." He tipped her face up to his and planted soft kisses all over. "Just stare into the fire awhile. I'll handle the angst part."
Her lower lip began to tremble, but she wrestled back the emotions that fought to control her. "I didn't mean that."
More kisses. She closed her eyes. He knew for all of her fighting him, she craved the blind comfort of physical affection. "I know. Ssh, it's gonna be all right."
"I wish I knew when," she said vaguely to nobody.
This time she slept soundly, helped along by bourbon and Nick's quiet voice making more promises he had no idea if he could keep.
When the phone rang he grabbed for it on the end table but realized Maura was so deeply asleep he needn't have worried. "Knight," he said quietly.
"Nicolas." Janette. "Maura left with your Mr. Schanke last night and did not return. Since it is unlike her not to call, I simply wondered..." she left the sentence unfinished. "Is she available?" Janette's indirect way of asking if Maura was all right. She would never come right out and express the concern in so many words.
"She's asleep, Janette. Schanke took her to the morgue last night to identify a mugging victim. He turned out to be a close friend, someone who used to see her at the club."
"Oh dear," she sounded genuinely troubled. "You mean young Christophe, don't you?"
"I didn't know if you'd met him."
"I saw him frequently of course, but we spoke only once, he came by when Maura had taken the night off and I persuaded him to stay for a drink. I confess I was not at all pleased when I learned that Maura had told him about us, but he was quite undisturbed by it. He seemed to regard us as nothing more alarming than an exotic ethnic group. An unusual young man. There was some gossip of course, he and Maura shared something the rest of us could not quite define. But it seemed a small thing to indulge her long absences on the nights he visited."
"Yes, Maura told me you 'indulged' her quite a bit."
As if she were defending her reputation Janette protested, "Well after all, it is not as if she had numberless friends disturbing her work. In fact I think Christophe might have been her only true mortal friend." Nick smiled as she shared this as if it were a revelation to him.
"You're right, he was. It was difficult for any of 'us' to grasp the substance of what they shared. I only know she gained something from spending time with him that she couldn't find anywhere else." He heard a sigh.
"And now he is gone... quelle vrai dommage." Again, her sincerity was unmistakable. The line went silent for a moment.
"Janette? Are you still there?"
"Oui, je suis ici. And how is Maura coping with this? She must be... terribly affected."
Nick looked closely at Maura as she lay on his shoulder. Even asleep, she looked bereft.
"I don't think I have the vocabulary for what she's going through. I don't even have an idea."
"I think you do, cheri. We have lost many people who were dear to us."
"But there was always someone else like us, you and I were there for each other, we've always known each other so completely. She has no one."
"She has you, Nicolas."
"It's not the same, Janette. You know it's not. If you were alone among mortals and suffered such a loss, what would you feel? Alone, no matter what they were to you."
On the other end of the phone, Janette couldn't suppress a shudder. She knew exactly what Nick meant, and to consider even the possibility of losing him, of losing their elemental connection, was beyond comprehension. "She will never be entirely alone."
"But I can't help her, Janette, I can't reach her."
"You mean you cannot reach inside of her to stop the pain."
Nick smiled ruefully. "You're not the first to remind me of that. I'm useless, I have the wisdom and power of 800 years and I'm useless to her."
"Not entirely, cheri. You love her. Perhaps that is enough."
"But what if it isn't?"
"You must let it be enough. Who more than we know what we must accept and what we must abandon? We both know that Maura will not let this destroy her."
"If you could see her now," Nick argued.
"I do not need to. I am no stranger to loss, and neither are you. Neither is Maura. She will survive it because she must."
There was an awkward silence, broken by Janette. "Please tell Maura when she wakes that I will not expect her at work until she calls. We will manage without her until she is ready to return."
"She was planning on working tonight. We had quite a disagreement over it."
"But you said she is sleeping. How did you persuade her to change her mind?"
"I didn't. I got her drunk and refused to drive her. I figured Vachon wouldn't pick her up if she was tanked."
He heard Janette's quiet laugh. "Dear Nicolas, so resourceful. Life with a mortal has taught you tricks you had not imagined in 800 years."
"I haven't needed them. Suddenly I find myself forced to be creative. Thank you for calling, Janette, I needed to hear your voice. I needed to hear your insight."
"What is mine will always be yours."
As he switched off the phone, Nick felt Maura stir against him. It hadn't been that long, so she couldn't be rested.
"Janette called," he told her before she could pull away and sit up. "She said to take four or five days off," he lied.
"Bullshit. She said I could come back when I want. And I want now."
Nick looked steadily at her, and knew that arguing would just make it harder. "Okay. Go get changed, I'll drive you to work." But he resolved not to return to the precinct for several days, just in case. He stayed at Raven all evening, taking care to keep out of Maura's way.
"You're not gonna hang around all night, are you?" she'd protested when he followed her into the club.
"I haven't visited with Janette in a long time," he explained.
"Bullshit."
"You know," he observed as she headed for the office, "your vocabulary is becoming a little limited."
Janette was surprised to see Maura come in to get the cash box to set up the doors.
"Cherie, what are you doing here?" Janette rose from behind the desk, clearly unsure how to greet her.
"I work here," and Maura simply went to the safe and got the things she needed as usual.
"But Nicolas told me," Janette began, only to be cut off.
"I'm sure he did. The world spins on, Janette, nobody knows that better than you."
Janette caught up to her as she got to the door. "Maura," she reached a hand to her shoulder.
Maura spun around. "Don't, please, not you. I don't want 'special' time, I don't want to 'deal with it', I just want to get on. Is that so hard to understand?"
The hand withdrew. "No, cherie, I don't suppose it is. As you wish. If you are feeling yourself, I will always welcome your presence."
But she wasn't "feeling herself" and it was painfully evident to everyone from Derek, who struggled with the set list to avoid every sad song in the band's repertoire, to Vachon, whose brief embrace of greeting was brushed away.
Nonetheless Maura managed to lose herself in the evening, greeting customers and finding blessed relief in dealing with strangers who weren't desperate to find a way to help. Since it was a typically busy Saturday night, there were plenty of strangers to go around. Anyone who didn't know her well would take her for merely having something of an off night, a little distant and cranky but nothing more. She knew Janette was keeping an eye on her. Nick didn't even look in Maura's direction, but he was aware of her every heartbeat even in this crowd. Everything went as well as she could manage, no trouble with the troublemakers even if there was no banter with the regulars. But when she saw Vachon casing up the empties at the end of the night something twisted inside her. Fridays and Saturdays were Christopher's nights to show up, however long or briefly, with a new trivia question or a film for her to share with Nick, or just to talk about life and the world. Shit, she thought, it's just the fucking alley, but even looking at the door made her queasy.
"Vash?" she ventured a bit uneasily. "You think you can stack 'em tonight?" All of her nervous thoughts might just as well have been spoken aloud, because Vachon smiled understandingly. "Sure thing, Luna. I'll take care of it." From the banquette where she sat with Nick, Janette noticed. A frown shadowed her face, immediately picked up on by Nick who followed her gaze to where Maura was gathering glasses while Vachon brought the cases to the alley.
"What?"
"Nothing." She returned to the subject they'd just been discussing, something about music. She was carefully distracting Nick to keep him from crowding Maura. When things were finished and the money counted, Maura came back to the table.
"I'm ready when you are."
Janette put on a bright expression. "Cherie, I thank you for coming in tonight because as you know it would have been difficult to fill in on such short notice. But I would like to give you time off, shall we say until next Saturday."
Maura gestured in annoyance. "Janette, I don't need a week off."
Janette shrugged mildly. "Perhaps not. But what is that charming American expression, don't look in a gift horse's mouth, n'est-ce pas?"
Nick saw Maura's stance change to stubborn mode, and braced himself.
"I told you, I want to work."
Janette didn't rise to the challenge, to Nick's relief. A face-off between these two women, he did not want to experience. "And I told you I will give you time off, with pay, until next Friday." Janette's expression became coolly resolute as Maura prepared to argue. "My accountant has advised me it is I who own this establishment. Has something changed without my knowledge?" The only reply was Maura's sullen stare. "Very well, then." Janette rose to see them to the door, stopping Maura with a hand on her arm before she could stride out into the night.
"Cherie, listen to me." Maura turned to look at her. "You cannot honor your friend by hurting yourself. D'accord?"
Maura nodded, barely, and walked to the car alone.
"Thank you, Janette," Nick whispered as he kissed her goodnight.
"It is something we have had many years to learn," she told him quietly. He could swear there was a sadness in her eyes as she watched Maura walk away.
The message light was flashing when they got home. Nick idly poked at the switch as he headed to the kitchen and Maura hung up their stuff.
"Uh, hi," a female voice said hesitantly, "I hope this is where Maura Logue lives. I'm Annie Martin, Christopher's sister. We, that is the family, we all wanted you to know that we're having a service for Chris. The police said they could send him home on Tuesday, so we're planning for Wednesday. I, we, want you to know that you would be so welcome to come remember him with us. Your boyfriend is welcome too, you could stay here at my mom and dad's house if you want. If you'd rather not come we'll understand, you don't know us, but really we think it would be good if you could. Please call anytime to let me know." She left a New Hampshire phone number, which Nick wrote down without comment. He laid the note with the number on his desk and said nothing more about it as they went upstairs to bed. Maura had been quiet on the ride home, nothing since coming inside, and betrayed no reaction to the phone message. No stranger to the occasional silences between them, Nick went about the business of getting ready to sleep and left her to do the same.
"I guess you're my boyfriend, then," Maura said apropos of nothing when they'd settled in bed. She was lying on her back, staring up into the candle shadows on the ceiling.
"I won't tell if you won't." he replied and slid over to lean above her on one elbow, brushing some imaginary hair out of her eyes and tracing a finger along her cheek. He didn't ask, but she answered.
"I dunno, Bats. It's a long way from here." In more ways than one, she added silently.
"You heard what she said. I'll come with you if you go. But whatever you decide is okay." She moved into his arms and sighed.
"Okay. Janette is right, I can't honor Christopher by freaking out. We can go Tuesday night. You sure you don't mind going to all the trouble?" He knew she meant the stock explanations regarding diet and daylight, having to transport enough bottles in the battery-powered cooler he ran off the caddy's cigarette lighter, all that "vampire crap". He reassured her with a kiss.
"Not even a little bit. You call the Martins tomorrow to fill in the details, and I'll tell the captain I'll be back by Friday."
Another sigh. "Okay."
"I love you, Sweet."
"I know. I love you too."
"Sleep, now."
She tried, but at best dozed off and on through the next morning, mostly settling for concentrating on the shelter of Nick's embrace.