Okay, this is weird. I'm trying this one last time, if this doesn't get through this (my third attempt) I'm seriously going to consider doing something rash, like write a story about a giant dinosaurs in downtown Toronto! Never mind, just enjoy this piece o' fluff! Usual disclaimers, no spoilers The Mallard By: Mary Jenkins Jan. 1998 Tracy and Natalie sat in a back booth of the Mallard, the finest all- night fudge shop in all of Toronto. "Mmmm." Nat moaned as the almond royal fudge ice cream melted slowly in her mouth. "You know," She told Tracy, "Sometimes I think about asking to be brought across then I think about all the chocolate I'd miss and the urge passes." The blonde nodded her agreement. Her cheeks bulging with butterscotch ripple. She swallowed loudly. "I know what you mean," She licked the last of the fudge from her long sundae spoon. "I could deal with no sun, no crosses, even eternal damnation wouldn't be a big problem! But no -chocolate-?" She made a face. "Hardly seems worth it." A tall well-proportioned waiter came by their table to re-fill their double mocha lattes. The shop was empty of customers except for them, it -was- three in the morning. Nat winked at him, he blushed and added chocolate sprinkles to the mocha foam. After the twenty-something waiter had departed Tracy looked at her friend wide eyed. "Nat!" She said, shocked at her flirting, she was almost certain she'd seen the dignified pathologist pat that hunk on the rear! Nat grinned. "They know me well here." She said with confidence, the all-night fudge shop was her usual stomping grounds, even more often than Nick went to the Raven, she came here. And now that Tracy had started to accompany her, she visited almost nightly. Across the high gloss floor of the cheerful shop, sat Pierre Pachaou, the elegantly dressed owner of the Mallard. His sensuous lips curled in an amused smile as he took in the charming ladies seated near the back of his shop. He'd noticed they were both frequent patrons, he decided it was time to make their acquaintance. Rising from his chair, Pachaou quickly traversed the distance between them. "Good evening ladies," He said, his deep voice betraying the barest hint of an English accent. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Pierre Pachaou, and this," He threw his arm wide in a grand flourish, "is my humble shop." Nat looked around the Mallard, it was hardly a -humble- anything. The place was huge! Mahogany and brass everywhere, a huge coffee bar, a section with all the latest periodicals; many of Toronto's most influential movers and shakers were often seen in the Mallard's dimly lit booths. Next her interest turned to Pachaou himself. His obviously expensive silk suit was dark beige, with a burgundy vest and starched white shirt layered beneath. His clothing was both stylish and timeless, the colours bringing out both the fairness of his skin and the blueness of his eyes. He was a truly gorgeous man! Tracy too looked him over. She thought he looked an awful lot like that Nightcrawler radio-guy, but she too was seriously impressed by the man before her. "Hello," She said cheerfully, "I'm Tracy Vetter and this is my friend Natalie Lambert." "Ah, a true pleasure." He smiled and kissed each woman's hand. Nat and Tracy were busily melting into chocolate-laced puddles when Pachaou offered them each a sample of his newest creation; white cocoa dusted raspberry truffles. They happily followed him into the back rooms of the empty Mallard. Outside Vachon and Nick watched as their lady-loves were lured away by the ancient and evil Pachaou. "We've -got- to save them!" Declared the younger vampire. "We can't." Nick said sadly, not only was the former Ionic General much older than any other vampire in Toronto, he possessed a secret that they had no hope of conquering. A single tear raced down Nick's cheek. "If it's any consolation I think he's planning on bring them across." "But he'll be their master!" Vachon gasped, sure that Pachaou would be the most possessive and controlling of master to his Tracy and her friend. "Yes." Nick sighed. "Once they are brought across they will be completely in his control. And it'll be more than just the link." He put a comforting hand on the Spaniard's shoulder, "You see, Pachaou knows the secret of how to make a vampire who can still eat chocolate." Vachon's eyes went wide. "Oh my God." He whispered. "We've lost them forever!" Nick nodded sadly. >>>>>>>>>>>> Heheh, well that was a bit of silliness wasn't it? Can you imagine if a Lacroix look-alike really did own a fudge shop? And had that secret? He'd control us all! Send all comments, mochas, and truffles to anteros@juno.com