Please, Just One Thing...
by Kat Ratzenberger
katratzenberger@yahoo.de

I do not own Forever Knight or its characters.

This is my first piece of fan fiction, which I'd like to thank Jarvinia
for some help with, as well as her friend that gave the general idea
behind this story.  Thanks!

Permission to archive at fkfanfic2.com.

**********

Please, Just One Thing...

Nick stared at his computer screen as it went blank, protested with a
beep and restarted.  The overhead lights flickered just enough to divert
his attention for a second.  A power surge.  *Another* power surge.  He
cursed, turning Schanke's attention to him for a moment.  "I was almost
done with the report," he explained.

"Mine's restarting too.  Second time tonight."

Nick glared at his monitor while his partner leaned back and waited. 
Schanke might be able to relax, think of it like a mini break--
specifically from looking up records--but to him it was just an annoyance.
More than an annoyance.

Technology was wonderful?  Not tonight it wasn't.  The first time, he had
just started a report.  But this time, he'd almost finished.  *And* he
hadn't saved it.

It was just over an hour into his shift, and so far nothing had gone
right that night.  His alarm hadn't gone off.  He'd woken to Schanke on
his answering machine asking where he was.  When he checked the alarm, he
saw that it had, apparently, gone off.  He'd managed to sleep through it,
as well as, according to Schanke, at least two phone calls.  Then,
arriving at work sans nourishment--not even drinking one of Natalie's
protein shakes--he found the parking lot full.  One-hundred-percent,
completely full.  There weren't even any empty spots *near* the precinct. 
And then, just when he pulled out onto the street to drive home so that he
could fly back, what happened?  Someone left.  And then he had to drive
around the block to get back into the parking lot.  Thankfully, the spot
was still there, no thanks to the mortals that walked slowly across the
parking lot, delaying his arrival back at it.  Of course, the spot had
been meant more for a compact car, which didn't bode well.  He had hoped
that was the end of the trouble, but no; now his computer was restarting
for the second time in the past hour.  He'd only been at work a bit over
an hour.  This did not bode well at all.

"It isn't going to come back up if you stare at it any harder."

"It *will* restart and it *will* stay on.  And there will be a back-up of
my report."  Nick waited, purposely avoiding Schanke's gaze.  Going into
the program he'd been writing the report in, his eyes lit up with glee
seeing the temporary file created by the computer.  He had been right. 
The computer had done *something* right.  The file was time-stamped a
couple of minutes prior to the computer going off.  It would be fine.  He
clicked and opened the file, then resisted the urge to hiss at the modern
technology as his screen filled with incomprehensible garbage, mocking
him.  Computers were supposed to store information--specifically for later
retrieval--not shred it and piece it back together in some random order. 
As calmly as he could, he created a new file and started back at the
beginning.  He would finish this report, and he would finish it tonight. 
Even if the power flickered again.  He would finish it.

"Here," Schanke said, passing a form across their desks.  "Use the form
in case the power goes out again."

He stared blankly at the pre-printed sheet, then took it gingerly.  He
didn't want to give in, but he knew it was best.  At least this way he
could be assured nothing would go wrong.

***

Half an hour later, Nick crumpled the form up until it was just smaller
than a golf ball and let it drop onto his desk.  "Schanke, I need another
form."

"What was wrong with that one?"

"I keep spelling Kirkpatrick wrong and then my pen leaked."

Schanke just stared, not really believing the other.  But there *was* an
ink stain on his partner's hand.  "Don't you have a bottle of that
corrective liquid I gave you?"

"It's dried up."

"But I borrowed it a couple of nights ago and it was fine."

"And it dried up."  Nick pulled the small bottle out of his desk and
tossed it to the other.

Unscrewing the top, Schanke found it dry.  He threw it away. 
"Man...Knight, this is not your night."

"Tell me about it.  Now, the form please?"

"Uh-uh.  It'll end up like the first, probably, and Cohen won't get it
tonight.  I'll fill out the report and you can do the records search. 
Besides, it was me that she told to do the report."

Nick turned his attention to his computer screen.  A database search
couldn't go wrong.  Even if the power surged again it couldn't mess up the
database.

"Look at it this way--it'll probably all stop.  It's not like a search
can go wrong, right?"

"Right," Nick responded, the work echoing skeptically in his mind. 
Nothing could and would go wrong with the search.  And work would be over
before he knew it and he could go home, feed, and sleep.

***

After hitting the button on the remote for the shutters and getting no
response, then hitting it a couple more times with the same affect, Nick
tossed the device onto the couch.  They weren't working.  Not only that,
but he'd proved that a search *could* go wrong.  The power surges
apparently did something to his computer.  It wouldn't call up any
database information, or anything else for that matter, in a readable
format.

Going to the fridge, he pulled out the sole bottle of cow's blood.  It
was nice and full--and he needed it about now.  However, the cork was
pushed down into the neck and it wasn't coming out.  He sat the bottle on
the counter and pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer.

Ten seconds later, the cork was on the corkscrew and the bottle was on
the floor, shattered.  He was honestly not sure what happened.  And he
didn't particularly care.  He wouldn't care at all if it wasn't that he
was hungry and the cold blood was just fresh enough to tempt him, even
from the shattered mess on the floor.

Quickly, he cleaned the glass and blood up.  Nick then went to the
refrigerator and stared at the two white plastic containers sitting on the
top shelf.  They were now the only things remaining in the fridge.  Two
protein shakes.  He shut the door, but didn't walk away.  Instead, he
stared blankly at the door only to reopen it a moment later.  He was
hungry and needed *something*.  The shakes weren't inedible; they just
didn't have the best flavor and didn't agree with him.  However, they were
also all he had.

Reaching out, he pulled the one on the right closer, removing the lid.  A
fruity, berry smell struck him, making him nauseous.  The taste was bad
enough, but this one he expected would be worse than the bland, gagging
all-protein flavored ones.  Natalie must have been trying to make them
taste better again.  And although he expected it did to her, the sweet
smell did nothing to help his hunger.  He put the top back on, put it back
on the shelf, and grabbed the second.  Opening this one, he smelled the
normal scent he'd come to associate with the shakes, and while it wasn't
pleasant, it didn't make him as queasy as the first.

He took the shake, and after closing the refrigerator door, sat it on the
counter.  He saw the light streaming in through the windows, and he turned
toward it for a moment.  While he sometimes left one of the shutters open
for a while, today was not one of those days.  Turning back to the shake,
he reminded himself that it would please Natalie.  That would be a good
thing, at least.  This would go right, even if his body told him that it
was all wrong.

Slowly he pulled out a wine glass and filled it full with the creamy,
almost milkshake textured drink.  He raised the glass and drank all he
could in a single swallow.  It tasted awful.  He had no words for it.  He
took another drink before pouring the rest of the shake into his glass and
putting the empty container into the sink.

With his glass, he walked over to the couch where he'd dropped the remote
earlier.  He picked it up and sat down.  Taking another drink of the
shake, he cringed and stared at the uncovered window.  He pointed the
remote and tried to close them again.  Nothing.  Not even a whine of the
motor.  Absolutely nothing.

He finished his glass off with a single swallow.  Schanke had been right.
Tonight was definitely *not* his night.  But at least he had drunk the
entire shake and, more importantly, it was staying down.  At least nothing
seemed wrong with *that*.

Staring at the light's path as it hit the floor, Nick felt his stomach
protest to the heavy, strange substance he'd given it.  He would have told
it to deal with it, but knew it wouldn't help any.  His stomach wanted
blood and that was it.  Maybe Natalie would stop giving him the shakes if
one of them made him sick.  But, even with everything that was going on,
he doubted it would happen.  He'd feel nauseated for the next several
hours, but as long as he didn't have any more of the noxious substance,
specifically the berry scented one still sitting in the fridge, he knew it
would pass.  At the moment, it was the only thing he was certain of.

He tossed the remote onto the couch cushion next to him and watched as
the shutters started their way down.  The room went to near darkness, and
he leaned back and closed his eyes with a groan.  *Now* they work, when he
didn't even push the button.  He just sat there, afraid to move.  As long
as he didn't do anything, everything would be fine.  The shutters would
stay down and so would the shake.

Setting his glass on the table, he shifted to lie down and heard the
shutters start on their way back up.  Again, he groaned.  Turning away
from the bright light, he shoved the remote onto the floor, hoping the
shutters would shut again.  They didn't, but they did at least stop going
up, which meant that only a small amount of light made it in to the room.

There.  A compromise.  He could handle that.  Aware he was safe from the
light from where he lay, he closed his eyes, knowing the next night
wouldn't, couldn't possibly turn out like tonight.

End
__________
Kat - katratzenberger@yahoo.de
http://www.geocities.com/katratzenberger/
RatPacker, Cousin, Val, UFfer, NNPacker...be afraid, be *very* afraid.