Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001

Note: The characters from "Forever Knight" belong to Sony Tri-Star.
The characters from "Xena Warrior Princess" belong to Renaissance
Studios and StudiosUSA..  The characters and scenarios from "The
Mummy" and "The Mummy Returns" Belong to Universal.  All other
characters and situations are fictious and are of my creation.  Please
feel free to send comments to dante0220@yahoo.com .

Thanks to Emily and to Jarvinia for their beta reading.

Preface [Queen's Hut, Amazon Village]

Gabrielle, Bard-Queen of the Amazons, writes....

After a great deal of build up, the fateful meeting between David and
Dijon finally took place.  One would never have guessed, however, at
the related events to that encounter.  Nor what would follow it.

Chapter 1 [Dijon, Burgundy, France]

The late Spring skies crackled with lightning and smelt of the
drenching rains falling from the sky.  In a display which would have
made Hollywood's best special effects gurus green with envy, the storm
produced a kaleidoscope of light, cannon-like sound bursts, pelting
downpours, and a howling wind whipping through the streets.  Despite
the break from the recent unseasonable heat wave, most of the city's
denizens stayed in their homes, choosing to remain dry and secure
while awaiting calmer weather.

In the midst of the city, the Palace of the Dukes and Estates of
Burgundy stood tall and majestic.  Built to withstand sieges and heavy
military activity, the granite stones shrugged off the wind and water
on that evening just as they had for centuries.  The tour groups had
come and gone with the sunset and the brewing storm, leaving the
facility alone with its decorations, battlements, and ghosts.

About 10PM, a commanding figure descended from the unsettled skies.
Looking all around, he made sure that nobody was in the area.  When he
felt safe, Bertrand du Dijon stepped out of the shadows.  As much as
he detested having to skulk around his ancestral home, the Enforcer
knew that it wouldn't be prudent to run into a gaggle of mortals on
any of his visits.  "If my father knew how the rabble were trampling
through his home, he would have them all slaughtered on the spot!" he
exclaimed angrily.  Producing a heavy iron set of keys, he unlocked an
oak door on the southwest side of the facility.  As the door creaked
open, a musty smell wafted up to meet him.  To most people, this
door's purpose had remained a mystery for the previous 350 years.  But
to the vampire, its purpose was crystal-clear: to keep the peasants
out.

Descending the stone staircase, Dijon made his way through the narrow
passages, pressing deeper and deeper into the Earth.  After a half-
hour hike, he stood before another heavy wooden door.  Using yet
another iron key, the former mercenary let himself into the inner
chamber.  Once inside, he used his enhanced vision to take in the
entire room.  Surrounding him, the stone sarcophagi of his ancestors
presented an impressive sight.  "Bon soir," he greeted.  "It is I,
Bertrand, who has been too long gone from this place."  Not expecting
an answer, he inspected the coffins, wiping dust off a few of them,
and recalling the people who now slept there.  His father, Jean, had
ruled this region with an iron hand, influencing policy decisions from
England to the edge of the Christian world, and, through his alliances
with England and then, with France, determined the outcome of that
series of conflicts which those academic fools liked to call "Le
Guerre d' Cent Ans" or "The Hundred Years War".  His brother,
Phillippe, was aggressive but fancied himself invincible until his
untimely defeat and demise at Lake Constance by the Swiss.  With him
went the past glories of the duchy.

"If only you had not listened to that upstart Charles," the vampire-
knight hissed to his father's tomb.  "I would have been here to keep
our fortunes afloat."  As he said those words, his mind drifted
back...

*****

[Fall, 1443]

Bertrand du Dijon hurried past the servants toward his father's master
chamber.  In his mind, he wondered why he had been recalled from the
battlefield.  In that regard, the mercenary had been a huge success,
mopping up both French and English opposition wherever he found them. 
However, he wondered about his father's policy.  Since the French
fortunes had risen, the latter was trying to get on the side of their
so-called king, Charles, much to his son's chagrin.

Knocking on the door, he asked, "Father?"

"Bertrand?" the other replied.

"Oui," the knight answered.

"Come in," Jean bade.

The younger man entered impatiently and strode up to the table where
his father sat waiting for him.  The room was covered in luxurious
trappings: tapestries, a fine bookshelf, carpeting, and a gigantic
stone fireplace off to the side.  

Behind his table, Jean du Bourgogne gave his son an imposing stare.
Even though his hair was turning snowy-white, his face worn heavily by
time's passage, and his gait hobbled by old war wounds, the Old Man
still commanded the respect of his offspring and wouldn't be
questioned on any point.  "We have a problem, my Son," he noted.

"What problem is that?" Dijon demanded.  "Our armies are winning in
the field.  The cloth factories are producing well.  Our blockades are
cutting into English exports.  Tell me, what is the problem?"

The older man smiled.  Sometimes, his son could be so dense and not
see the forest for the trees.  "And what about our diplomatic efforts,
hmm??  While you've been out achieving glory on the battlefield, I've
been negotiating," he reported.

"Those diplomats talk too much.  They'll addle your brain," the knight
scoffed.  "Besides, what did the French Dauphin...er...king have to
say for himself this time?"

Jean bristled and slammed his fist angrily on the table.  "Charles is
the French king, and you would do well not to forget that!  Any claim
that the English might have had is no longer viable.  Besides, you
have been the cause of much debate in those circles as of late."

That comment got Dijon's attention.  "Me?  And why is that?  I haven't
done anything to those fools in 15 years at least!" he laughed.

"It is what you and your troops did at Compeigne and Rouen, Bertrand. 
You and your English allies," his father sighed heavily.  "You
committed a massive faux pas in judgment."

The son scanned his memories of those places.  In 1430, he had only
recently become a knight.  Against his father's wishes, Dijon had
volunteered to serve with his older brother, Jean du Bretage, at
Compiegne.  There, they had defeated the French and captured their
miraculous leader, Jeanne d'Arc.  After two years with the woman, the
English burned her in Rouen's old marketplace as a witch.  Ever since,
people had looked at him with scorn.  Of all of his fellow soldiers,
he remembered one mysterious Brabantine, Nicolas, who had soundly
criticized him before and after the execution.  "Weaklings.  All of
them," he snarled.

"Nevertheless, they are now in control of things.  You have become a
hindrance and a marked man, Bertrand," Jean advised him.  "What should
I do with you?"

The knight shook his head furiously and cracked, "They think they can
kill me, do they?  Well, let them try!  I was perfectly within my
rights to sell her to the English as I did.  Besides, your precious
king failed to ransom her.  Let him worry about it.  Besides, what
would you do to me?"

The older man shook his head furiously and growled, "Don't be so
stubborn.  Do you think that I want to tell you this?  You are my son,
my flesh and blood.  I am trying to save your life."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

Jean scratched his chin and started, "The Pope is putting together a
crusade to stop the Turks.  He has offered to let you be one of the
leaders."

Dijon laughed in disbelief.  "Me?  Lead a crusading army?  Surely,
you're not taking this seriously, are you?"

"I am," the other man gravely asserted.  "And I am telling you to do
the same.  My only other option is to cast you out."

"Cast me out?  But, I'm your son!  You can't do that!  Don't tell me
that damnable agreement is that important to you!" Dijon spat.  Seeing
his father's continued earnestness, he roared, "It is that important
to you!"

"The family must survive, Bertrand.  If you so choose, you may leave
for Rome immediately with my leave," the elder man informed him,
punctuating his statement with an air of finality.

The younger man arose in disgust.  "So, you think you can save
yourselves by sacrificing me?  Well, I'll outlive all of you!  Do you
hear me?  I'm going to fight as you've asked me to, but I'll be back
to see you in your grave!" he bellowed.  Picking up his sword, he
stormed out of the chamber and out of the castle.

Jean sighed heavily and a tear formed in his left eye.  How he wished
that Bertrand would understand that he was being forced to do this
act.  "My Son, be careful what you wish for.  May God watch over you,"
he continued wistfully to the empty chamber.

**** 

[Modern Day]

Dijon studied his father's tomb once again.  His boast had indeed come
to pass through a weird twist of fate.  While fighting in the East,
the Crusading army faltered badly against the Ottoman Turks.  Slipping
away from the field, he had tried to find passage back to Europe.
However, in Istanbul, the vampire who became his master, Ali, brought
him across.  From that point on, he had learned about the way of the
vampire and then, the way of the Enforcer.

"I told you, Old Man," he smiled to the cold stone slab.  "And I will
triumph over the last of my enemies as well.  The Brabantine knight
and a particularly infuriating mortal will both die before I'm
finished!  Rest assured of that!"

Sensing that the sun was about to rise, the former knight settled
himself on the floor to wait out the day.  The battle would come soon
enough for his liking....


Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1.  Additional notes: The argument
between Xena and Cybelle took place in "The Die is Caste" from the
"Amazon Scrolls" series.  Also, the last run-in between Dave, Angie,
and Stuart Dubois took place in "The Honeymoon" earlier in this
series.

Chapter 2 [Amherst, MA: The Next Morning]

Cybelle scratched her head perplexedly.  Her packed suitcase sat on
the bed.  The coffee maker and stove were both turned off.  The house
was in order.  Still, she felt as if something needed to be done.
"What is it?" she wondered.

"What is it, Auntie?" Deirdre inquired, entering the room and looking
about.  

"It's nothing, Deirdre," the elder priestess advised.  "I'm just
making sure that everything's done before we leave."

"As far as I can tell, you got everything finished.  And Grandma
Dubois has Jonny.  But, where is Uncle Matt?  I heard you two arguing
last night," her niece noted.

Cybelle sighed heavily.  Just the night before, she and her husband
had argued about her newly adopted lifestyle and its implications.  He
had demanded that she be a simple housewife.  She refused, citing her
right to do what was best for all concerned.  Earlier, he had stormed
out the door, speeding off in his truck.  "Your uncle and I had issues
to resolve.  Now, come.  I hope to be gone before he comes back."

The younger woman nodded in agreement.  The last thing she wanted was
to witness another argument.  She still remembered her aunt's dispute
with Xena back in the Amazon village concerning her father and
grandfather and had no wish to see the former's temper flare again.
"Bad enough that Papa's upset," she mused.

At that moment, they heard a car screech to a halt outside followed by
two doors slamming.  A moment later, the front door opened and closed.

"Cybelle!  Get in here!" Matt demanded.

"Not now!  I've said everything that I'm going to say!" she bellowed.

"Stuart, I told you she was being unreasonable!" her husband stated.

Stuart Dubois snorted indignantly, "Stay here.  I'll deal with this." 
Despite all of his efforts, his children were a grave disappointment. 
He wasn't about to let his daughter stray down this fool path and
wreck everything that she and her husband had created for themselves. 
Clomping loudly through the living room and down the hallway, he
barged in on the two priestesses.  "What is this crap?" he demanded.

"None of your concern, Dad.  Just leave us be," Cybelle told him,
turning her back to him.

" 'Dad' ? " Deirdre whispered fearfully, staring at the intruder and
quaking.  

"You'll face me when I'm talking to you!" he roared, seizing Cybelle's
arm.  

His daughter wrenched her arm free and spat, "Since when did you ever
have anything worthwhile to say?"

"Why, you!" he growled and backhanded her hard across the face.

Deirdre quaked with terror.  This man was her grandfather.  The one
who had terrorized her father, forcing his personality to split into
two parts.  He was almost akin to the Boogey Man at least from what
her sisters had related to her.  Despite these feelings, she made
herself stand tall and firm.  No matter what their relationship, the
man had no right to touch an Althanorian priestess.  "Leave her
alone!" she challenged.

"Who are you?" he snarled low.  "Another freak?  You aren't worth my
time!"

"Keep...keep away from us!" the younger woman directed.

"Right," he chuckled in disbelief.  "Make me, little girl."  Before
she could react, he crossed the room and pushed her back into the
china cabinet.

Landing awkwardly, the young priestess tried to stand again, but her
ankle protested the action.  "By the goddess, I've sprained it," she
grimaced.  Worse still, she had cut her hand on the cabinet's
splintering glass.

Fortunately for her, the elder man had forgotten about her for the
moment.  Summoning all of her concentration, she created a portal and
crawled toward it.

To her own credit, her aunt managed to create one windblast, driving
the attacker backward.  But, due to her condition, it wouldn't last.
"Go!" she told her niece.  "Get help!"

Deirdre nodded and reluctantly disappeared into the mist.  

******

[Tucson]

In the predawn darkness, everyone in the Dubois household slept
fretfully.  The impending situation prevented anybody from getting any
extended sleep.  Still, they managed to doze off and on, managing to
gain some rest.

Dave stirred at about 4:30AM.  Something wasn't right.  "But then
again, when is it these days?" he wondered impatiently.  Still, this
feeling was different from the rest of the situation.  Pondering the
feeling for a second, he discerned that it was coming through the
mental link he shared with his sister.  Something was happening back
in Massachusetts at that very moment.

Angie blinked her eyes in the darkness beside him and asked, "Dave?
What's going on?"

"Nothing that I can tell," he fibbed, trying not to worry her.

She elbowed him in the side and declared, "You know what I'm getting
at.  I'm feeling something in my head.  Something's going on."

He sighed in frustration.  If his wife felt it too, then something was
definitely wrong back there.  "I'm going to check on the girls.  Be
right back."

She nodded earnestly.  As with her husband, she knew they didn't need
anything else to deal with right now.  "Hurry back, okay?"

"You betcha," he agreed, walking out into the front room.  On the
couch bed, he heard Steve snoozing away.  Across the room, Karen slept
restlessly on an air mattress.  Then, he felt a powerful shove pushing
at him.  "What is going on?" he whispered.

Then, he felt Deirdre's pain followed by Cybelle's duress.  Grasping
his head, he started to stagger across the room.

"Papa!  Mama!" Lauren and Karen screamed from their room.

"That cinches it!" their father growled, rushing into the other
bedroom.  "Girls, are you all right?"

The nine-year old twins nodded reassuringly.  

"We are, Papa," Karen advised.  "But, Dee-Dee's hurt!"

"I...I know," he concurred, wincing at the throbbing in his head.

At that moment, Angie, Karen, and Steve barged into the room.  

"Dave, what's going on?" the oncologist wondered.  "I can feel Cybelle
and Deirdre."  Hurrying over to the bed, she tried to comfort their
daughters.

The medievalist felt the pain getting worse.  Soon, it would be
unbearable.  Then, the spasms started again.  "No...not...now."

Karen rubbed his shoulder concernedly.  The last thing they needed was
for the Child to take over.  "Calm down, it's going to be okay," she
tried to soothe.

"No...not all...right," he snarled.  "Somethin' bad's goin'...on."
Trembling on the brink, he gripped the side of his daughters' dresser.

At that moment, mist poured into a corner of the room, forming into a
shorter version of the familiar column.  From that portal, Deirdre
crawled laboriously into the room.  "Am I home?" she asked fearfully.

Angie rushed over to her daughter's side and recoiled at the sight of
the latter's condition.  "Deirdre?  What happened?" she demanded,
embracing the injured woman.

"Mama...it was awful," she whimpered, rubbing her ankle.  

"Who did this to you?" Dave demanded.

"Now, Papa...please," the priestess advised.  "It wasn't Auntie's
fault."

"What wasn't her fault?" the elder Karen pressed.

The twins gasped.  "Bad man with Uncle Matt.  Big man."

"Who?" Angie asked.

"There was an...argument this morning.  Uncle Matt drove off and came
back," Deirdre sobbed,  "We were hoping to be gone before that, but he
brought company."

"And this man...did this to you?" her father pushed with increasing
fury.  "Who is it?  Your mother asked you a question."

"It was...Grandpa.  Aunt Cybelle called him...'Dad'," she confessed
and broke down in a teary fit.

Both Karen and Steve glanced nervously at their former classmate,
anticipating the eruption, which was about to occur.

For his part, Dave shook violently, gasping for air, growling in rage
and anger.  Turning to his daughter, he snarled, "And he did this to
you?  Answer me!"

"Dave, stop it!" his wife lectured although she knew the words were
futile.

Deirdre winced again.  "Arrgh, he's still beating on Auntie!  Papa,
make him stop!" she cried.

"And he did this to you?" her mother asked.

"Yes," she whispered low.

The oncologist felt a surge of anger within herself.  For once, she
shared her husband's fury.  She still remembered how her father-in-law
had treated her on the day after the wedding.  Now, the miserable
lowlife was wrecking more damage.  "I should let Xena handle this
one," she told herself, starting to reach for her sword.

But, before she could act, Dave darted through the dissipating mist,
leaving everyone scrambling to find a way after him.

****

[Amherst]

Dubois watched his daughter stumble away from him and exclaimed,
"Hopefully, this will teach you some manners!"

"Go to Hell," she muttered.

"What!  I'll teach you!" he bellowed, swiping again at her.  "I never
taught you anything about this garbage!"

She raised her head slowly.  From within her daze, she sensed
something familiar.  Her eyes bulged.  "No, not him!  Not now!"  

"Who now?" the enraged man laughed.  "Hey!  You out there!  Take a
number and I'll deal with you later."

"Oh, I think you'll see me now, Asshole," a voice snarled.

Dubois smiled and turned to face the newcomer.  "Well, well, if it
isn't the Prodigal Son.  I was wondering when I would run into you
again."

"I would have to be sorry if I were to be a Prodigal," the professor
growled, advancing on the other.  

"Where's the other one?  Did she go crying to you?" the older man
baited.

Cybelle interjected, "Dad, don't push him!"

"Why not?  What's he gonna do?  Breathe on me?  He wouldn't dare!"

"Try me.  That was my daughter you manhandled!" the younger man
snarled.

His father swung his fist at the enraged professor, but came up empty.
"Stand still!" he roared.

"What?  And let you deck me?" the younger man snickered darkly.  "I
don't think so."  His left eye glowed with a yellow hue.  "It's time
you learned a lesson for a change." 

The elder Dubois laughed incredulously, "And what are you...?"  Then,
he felt himself being lifted off of the ground.  "What?  What's going
on?"

"Just the garbage you taught to me," his son informed him in a voice
dripping with rage.  "I warned you before.  Lay a hand on my family,
and I would take it out on your hide.  You just wouldn't listen, would
you?  Time for you to learn your lesson!"  With a flicker of his
eyebrow, he flung his father through the air and against the nearby
wall.

"H...How?" the attacker wondered in amazement.  "Th...That's
impossible!"

Dave smiled wickedly and closed his eyes, allowing the Child to
surface completely.  "Nah.  Not for us.  'Sides, I'm proud of Big
Brother for smackin' ya," the latter replied confidently.  

Cybelle shook her head fearfully.  Bad enough that she couldn't
intervene, but now, he had released his darker persona.  Given how
Dave felt about their father, she feared the worst.

Dubois quaked furiously and managed to stand.  "You always did like
dramatics. I'll break you of that!"

The Child hissed, "Ya'll try!" Dropping his shoulder, he rammed the
older man in the chest, pinning him against the wall.  "Now, listen
up!  I would love nothin' better than to end this permanently, but
then, I would be like ya.  Go ahead! Call us freaks again!  I dare
ya!"  Going nose to nose with his father, he spat, "Take a good look
at your handiwork!"

Dubois stared into his son's enraged eyes and stiffened at the sight. 
"My...God.  You...you," he stammered.

The Dark One snickered with grim satisfaction.  After years of pain
and suffering, that priceless look made everything worthwhile.  "Yes,
me.  Ya created me!  And how does that make ya feel?"

"Get away from me!" the other man protested, managing to push the
Child back and freeing himself.  Reaching into his pocket, he took out
a pistol and aimed it.  "I'll kill you!"

The injured priestess shouted, "Stop this!"

"Tell'im to put it down," the Child shrugged.  "He's the fool here,
not me."

For a brief second, Dubois hesitated.  Then, he fired the weapon.
"Something as warped as you doesn't deserve to live."

The other man erected a psychic shield, easily deflecting the
projectile.  "That was your last chance, Old Man," he growled,
advancing on his father.  "C'mere.  I owe ya a whooping!" 

Suddenly, a whirring noise split the air, and a silver blur cut
between the two men. 

"Crap!  Xena, this is my fight!  Leave us alone!" the Child roared.

The Warrior Princess caught her chakram and strode purposefully into
the room.  "And if you kill him?  Tell me, what purpose will that
serve?" she asked.

"He needs to pay!" he bellowed indignantly.

"And he will," she advised him.  "But, you can't step over that line. 
He will answer for what he's done.  Don't make me have to fight you as
well."

"Like ya would," he snarled.

The Thracian warrior arched her right eyebrow and indicated, "If I
have to, I will."  Drawing her sword, she stood ready for combat.
"Don't make me do this."

Steve yelled from the hall.  "Dave, listen to her!  I made a call to
the State Police and they're coming!"

"Good.  They'll arrest him," the elder Dubois huffed, climbing to his
feet once again.

"They're coming for you," the FBI agent indicated.  By now, the sirens
were approaching quickly.  "Dave, let him go!"

The Child snorted and laughed, "Too bad. Old Man, stay out of my way."
With that, he concentrated, allowing Dave to resume control.

"What?" he wondered, looking about the room,  "I'm back."  Glancing at
his friends, he noted, "Thanks, Xena for reminding You Know Who about
his obligations."

"My pleasure," the warrior concurred.  "Now, let's go.  I have no wish
to run into the authorities."

"Right.  Take off," he indicated.  "You can tell Angie it's okay to
come here."

Xena smiled knowingly.  Even half-dazed, he could still plan on his
feet.  Giving the elder man a stern look, she asked, "Cybelle?"

"Yes," the priestess agreed, willing up a portal.  "Tell Angie we
could use her here."

"Indeed," the Warrior Princess concurred while stepping into the mist.

Sensing that the police were about to arrive, Cybelle managed one more
spell.  Even though she was still clad in her priestess robes, the
officers would see her as a normal woman.

Steve nodded in approval.  Hopefully, Stuart Dubois would finally get
his just desserts this time.  Meantime, he needed to keep the elder
man there.  "Mr. Dubois, I'm placing you under arrest."

"Right," Dubois cracked.  "And who are you pretending to be,
Petersen?"

Steve bristled at the comment, but kept his composure.  Producing his
ID, he retorted, "This is serious.  As a FBI agent, I'm placing you
under arrest for several counts of child abuse not to mention two
counts of assault and battery."

"You aren't putting those things on me!  I have rights!" the enraged
man shouted.

"And I am prepared to read you those rights," the agent stated firmly,
producing his pistol.  "Don't make me hurt you.  Now, put the gun down
and place your hands on your head."

Dubois looked at his son and vowed, "This isn't finished yet!  Mark my
words!  My lawyer will have me outta jail within the hour!"

Dave twitched but kept his composure.  After taking a deep breath, he
stated, "Oh, you're done all right.  But, if you come after us again,
I'll make you sorry."  Locking glances with the other man, he added,
"Truly sorry."

By that time, the police had arrived and were rushing into the house. 
"Agent Petersen?" a voice called.

"In here, Sergeant Rivers," Steve called.  When the uniformed police
officer appeared, he added, "This is Stuart Dubois, the man I told you
about.  I was about to read him his rights."

Rivers grinned.  Dubois had badmouthed him publicly on a few
occasions.  Funny, how life gave one the chance to get even.  "Allow
me," he requested.  After the other nodded, he began reciting the
Miranda mantra.  When he had finished, he glanced up at Dave and
inquired, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine.  Just a little upset," the medievalist informed him.  "My
step-daughter and sister are banged up though."

"Was that the woman on the couch?  Brown hair, about 5'5"?  There's a
doctor treating her right now.  I don't know how she got out here so
quickly, but I guess it's not wise to look a gift horse in the mouth,"
the state officer continued as he pulled his prisoner onto his feet.

Dave and Steve smiled at each other.  No, best not to answer any
unnecessary questions at this point.  

"Is there anything else?" Rivers asked.  "I will need a statement from
everyone involved."

"Give us a minute alone, will you?" the FBI agent requested.  When the
other had left, he asked his friend, "See?  Everything's going to work
out.  Now, let's get those statements recorded and get back to our
business at hand.  Besides, Karen's waiting back in Tucson with the
twins."

Dave shrugged noncommittally.  "For me, it'll never be over, Steve.
Today was only one victory."

"But it was a big one.  Come now, you need to think about the bigger
matter at hand," Steve told him.

"Dijon," the professor agreed.  "Right.  Let's get this paperwork out
of the way."  After rubbing his friend's shoulder, he helped his
sister to her feet and helped her down the hall.
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 3 [Amherst]

The police stayed for about two hours, questioning everyone thoroughly
and scribbling away in their notebooks.  Judging by the damage done to
the room, they didn't exactly believe that their prisoner had damaged
everything by himself.  Sergeant Rivers glanced over at Dave on more
than one occasion during these proceedings.  While the professor
seemed calm now, he always looked like a beast ready to pounce on
something.  "But then, when hasn't David been like this?" he asked
himself, recalling some of the bitter arguments between father and
son.  

Dave glanced over at the police officer and asked, "Did I answer
everything, Sergeant?"

"Within reason," the law enforcement official agreed.  "Given the
history between you and your father, nobody's going to question how
you reacted.  I do wish that you would get some help for that temper
of yours."

"He is," Angie interjected, entering the room with her med bag in tow.
"He's on a regimen of herbs and reduced caffeine-intake, among other
things.  Trust me, we'll get there, Sir."

Rivers nodded and smiled.  While they hadn't met, he had heard how
good an influence Angie had been on her husband.  "I think you have a
lot to do with that, Dr. Dubois."

She flushed pink and shook her head, "Well...I'd like to think that I
have something to do with it, but if Dave didn't want to do it, it
wouldn't happen."

The officer pondered this point for a second.  At least, David's
separation from his father seemed to be doing some good.  "I'll
process the paperwork and place these statements into the file."

Dave motioned with his eyes toward his father and asked, "And what
about him?  What now?"

"That depends upon your sister and her visitor," Rivers replied.  "If
they come forward, we can finally nail him."

"You can count on me for that, Sir," Deirdre agreed, limping slowly
into the area.  Her arm and left ankle were bandaged tightly.
Glancing at her grandfather, she continued, "That man's done enough
damage to this family for three lifetimes."

The sergeant scratched his head curiously at her statement but chose
not to pursue it further. "I'll be in touch," he concluded, closing
his notepad.  "Do take care, folks."  

Dave chuckled darkly, "We'll try."

Angie nudged him knowingly.

As he was being led out of the room, the elder Dubois spat, "Just you
wait!  I'm going to tell the world that you're a freak!  You'll be
hunted down like an animal!"

Rivers cut him off, "That's enough!  Let's go!"

Dave shook furiously as he watched his father being led from the room.
"He's already ruined my childhood and now..." he whispered.

Angie embraced him tightly, soothing, "No, he won't.  He's going to
jail where he belongs."

"Right," he doubted sarcastically.  "The judges and lawyers promised
me that before.  And he got a slap on the wrist is all."  

"And we'll be here for you, Papa," Deirdre promised.

His face brightened a bit.  Leaning closer to his daughter, he kissed
her cheek and sighed, "Thank you for that.  When I thought about him
hurting you and Cybelle, I couldn't take it."

"We knew that," Angie mentioned.  "However, you were able to stop
short of killing your father.  You don't know how proud I am."
Kissing him warmly, she continued, "You have come so far.  Please
don't let this quest of yours destroy what we've built."

"I'll do my best," he assured her.  "Meantime, how's Cybelle?"

"I took her back to Althanor.  Two days in the House of Healing should
have her as good as new," the priestess indicated.  "Meantime, the
High Priestess has requested that Genaria and I should do what we can
for everyone.  I'll be teleporting us to Europe, but I'll need you to
tell me where we're going."

"We'll have to check with Nick," he stated.  "But, I imagine we'll be
heading for France.  Rouen to be precise."

"Rouen?" Angie asked.

"Yes, that's where Dijon'll be waiting for me," he explained, rubbing
his wife's shoulder.  

The oncologist looked curiously at her husband.  This chase held so
many cryptic clues in it.

"Trust me, Princess, I know what I'm doing," he reassured her.

"Well, I hope so," she informed him.  "Meantime, my folks called about
an hour ago.  They're on their way from Wabash.  I figured we'd leave
the twins with them.  Besides, Brother Tony wants to have a chat with
us, not to mention Nick, Francesca, Eve, and Xena."

He shrugged resignedly.  The last thing he needed right now was a
'you're dancing around the Pit' lecture from the elderly minister.
Tony had been concerned since witnessing the Child's clash with Divia
back in the tiny town's center.  Given that Dijon's challenge came in
plain sight, everyone with a TV knew about it.  "He probably put two
and two together," he murmured.

"It didn't take much, Dave," Angie declared.  "He was watching the
whole scene and knowing what he knows, figured out what you're doing."

"I guess it won't harm anything to talk with him," he concurred.
"Deirdre, are you up to opening a portal?"

"Sure," she nodded and willed up a misty pillar.  "Tucson?"

"Yup.  We need to make sure the apartment's set and get everyone
here," he explained.  "Angie?"

"Coming," she replied wistfully.  Given the nature of their travels,
she wasn't about to leave anything to chance on the home front.
"Steve, can you let my parents know that we'll be back?"

The FBI agent nodded, "Absolutely."

With that, the threesome disappeared into the mists.

***

[Tucson: The Loft]

Nick poured himself another glass of cow blood and meandered over to
the couch.  It wouldn't be long now.  "I wish we didn't have to leave
until after sunset," he muttered, sipping on the liquid.  A look
across the room revealed that his bags were packed for the long
journey.  "Que sera sera," he shrugged, slumping into his sofa.

Suddenly, the elevator hummed to life and began moving up toward his
floor.  A moment later, the door slid open, allowing Natalie to hustle
into the area.  Her face looked haggard and her eyes had heaviness
about them caused no doubt by her inability to sleep.

"Nat?" he wondered.  "Please sit down.  Can I get you some coffee?"

The coroner shook her head, "No, that's okay."  Glancing at the
suitcases, she surmised, "Ready to go, aren't you?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he noted, knowingly placing the glass down
on the table.  "I'm glad you came over."

"Thanks.  I wish it were under better circumstances.  Nick, there was
an incident this morning in Massachusetts," she declared.  

He probed, "At Cybelle's home?"

"Yes," she continued, sitting down slowly.  "Apparently, she and her
husband argued about her going with you all.  He left and brought her
father back with him.  He apparently attacked her and Deirdre.  The
latter managed to get herself back to her parents' house."

He shook his head, guessing at what happened next, "And Dave went back
there."

"According to Karen, he went nuts, jumped through the portal, and
faced his father," she reported.  

He winced.  Right now, they didn't need any other legal hassles.
"And?  So, what happened?" he inquired.

"Nothing much," she replied.  "Dave got a few choice shots in, but
Xena broke things up before he could finish things.  Then, Steve
called the police."

At her use of the agent's name, he stood up and walked back toward the
refrigerator.

"What?  Nick, what's your problem?" she demanded.  

He looked at her moodily and shook his head.  "I saw you last night."

She scrunched her brow perplexedly and puzzled, "Last night?  Wha?"
Then, she realized what he was getting at.  "Oh, that's it.  Isn't it?
You saw Steve and me in the lab, right?  Nick, who the Hell do you
think you are?  Don't I have a right to be happy?  After waiting for
you for six years...six damn years...you just go off with Alyce!  How
do you think that makes me feel?"

He scratched his head and bowed his shoulders.  "Nat," he sighed.

She turned away from him, meandering toward the closed-over window.
"No, Nick.  I don't want to hear it right now!  Twenty-four hours ago,
I thought that you cared about me.  Then, I noticed you and Alyce
getting closer and closer to each other.  Steve cares about me, Nick!"
she lectured.  "Why shouldn't I try something with him?"

 "That caring seemed to come on awfully quick, Nat!" he argued.

"Really?  And what about you and Alyce? I knew you two were attracted
to each other before.  But now that she's back, I see you've got the
blood out again," she posed.  "Maybe you've given up on a cure.  Maybe
you like being a vampire.  Is that it?"  She picked the glass up and
threw it into the fireplace.

"You know I don't like being a vampire!" he contradicted, vamping out.

"Then, what is it?  What happened to us?" she sobbed.

He paced the room, weighing a response.  Finally, he confessed, "I
don't want to hurt you again.  Maybe, this is for the best, Nat."

"Is it the fact that she's a vampire and I'm not?  I asked you to
bring me across and you wouldn't do it!  That's not fair, Nick.  I
was...I would be willing to make the sacrifice to spend eternity with
you.  You know that!" she spat.

"You don't know what you're asking, Nat," he advised her.

"And she did?" the ME cracked sarcastically.  "I bet she just said 'oh
take me...take me'."

"As a matter of fact, I did," Alyce's voice responded firmly.  The
vampiress flew to the ground floor.  "As a scientist, I knew exactly
what I was doing."

"Oh, right.  Well, asking as a scientist, Nick, bring me across,"
Natalie requested half-seriously.

"If it makes you feel any better, Natalie, Nick wouldn't do it then,
either.  Like him, I am the child of LaCroix," the curator revealed.
"And, you'll pardon me if I am a bit protective of him!"

"Like you would do anything, you bitch!" the coroner yelled, slapping
her rival across the face.

"Natalie!  Alyce!  Stop this!" he tried to interject.

Alyce shook him off.  "No, Nick, stay out of this!" Turning to
Natalie, she stated, "This is between us."

"You bet it is!  You...You..." Natalie concurred angrily, raising her
hand again.

The vampiress smiled coldly and grasped the other woman's hand in a
vise-like grip.  "And how did you think I felt as I watched you steal
him away from me?  I saw you, he, and Schanke leaving the museum the
night after I came across!  Later, I saw the two of you together in
his Caddy.  I spent six long years in Orleans, Natalie.  Six years!
Well, now I'm here!"  With those words, she tightened her grip,
forcing Natalie to her knees, "Be with your own kind.  You have a man
who loves you.  I came across for Nick, and I will have him!"

Natalie winced, "Nick, she's breaking my wrist!"

"Alyce, let her go!  I don't want her to be hurt," he directed. 

The raven-haired vampiress reluctantly released her grip.  "I do want
to be your friend, Natalie.  I wish you weren't the other woman
involved.  Trust me, I do want you to be happy.  I hope that Steve can
give you everything.  But, let us be happy together," she pleaded.

Natalie trembled sadly.  How dare Alyce make these statements to her! 
Looking to Nick, she sought support there, but that type of look
wasn't there.  In times past, she would see the spark, the fire, and
the ardor in those deep blue eyes.  While the caring glimmer still
remained, it wasn't the steady, secure light she had come to expect.
Maybe, he was right.  Maybe, this was for the best after all.  Her
eyes watered and she brushed her hand to rid herself of them.  Maybe
this situation wouldn't work out the way she wanted, but she wouldn't
give the immortal curator the satisfaction of watching her break down.
"If that's the way you feel, Nick, I guess that's the way it's going
to be."  With that, she walked back into the elevator and shut the
door.

For a long minute, Nick stared at the elevator.  Then, he drifted over
to the window.  Although he couldn't open the blinds, he could feel
her pain far below.  

She looked back, locking glances with him through the barrier.  Only
then, did she allow the floodgates to open.  They had endured many
trials over the years, but this was too much.  With a deep sigh, she
got in her car, started the engine, and sped away.

He stood at the window, feeling more depressed than ever.  Yet, when
he looked at Alyce, he knew he had made the right decision.  He just
wondered why it hurt so much.
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 4

Schanke rubbed his head in frustration.  Granted, he knew that Nick's
departure would mean more work for him and Tracy.  But, as the "Luck
of the Schanke" would have had it, three homicides occurred within a
two-day span.  On top of this stuff, Ramirez happened to be in one of
his pensive moods.  "Great," he muttered.  "And I thought Stonetree or
Cohen could be heck to work with."

"Hey, Schanke," Tracy advised from her desk.  "It's going to be okay."

"Right," he agreed.  At least, she wasn't afraid to help with the
reports.  "Did you get that paperwork typed up?"

"Right here!" she smiled, handing him the completed report.  "I was
wondering if you wanted to get a cup of coffee or something.  You look
pretty beat."

He stretched and yawned, "Yeah, I am.  It's funny.  The place may
change, but the bosses' attitude remains the same."  

"Reese could be that way too," she recalled.  "When he was getting
pressed by City Hall, the Precinct could be an interesting place."

He smirked, "So were Cohen and Stonetree.  Nick even caught some flak
from time to time, although he managed to squirm out of most stuff.
Sometimes, I don't know how he kept his things from us for so long."

She glanced around, making sure that nobody was within earshot before
continuing, "That's because we weren't looking for it.  I was occupied
with just getting along with him, not to mention Vachon.  You, I
gather, were just focusing on your job."

He nodded, recalling the firefight about two weeks before the plane
crash.  After witnessing Nick's abilities first hand, the paunchy
detective had investigated his partner on a cursory level before
LaCroix finally managed to discourage him from the task.  "I'm glad
now I didn't push the issue.  There was the one time when I started to
do it, but backed off.  LaCroix can be pretty persuasive, ya know?"

The mental image of LaCroix in the jail cell during the Divia episode
passed through her mind.  "You should have seen him the night we had
to take him into Holding," she noted.

His eyes bulged and he gaped, "You had him in Holding?  For what?"

She smiled, "We received an anonymous tip concerning a murder at the
Raven.  When we got there, he was there with a corpse.  Eventually, he
was cleared.  However, you should have seen it.  From what Nick told
me, he had one side of the cell to himself and the other perps were
huddled together on the other."

"I wouldn't doubt it," he shivered, remembering the encounter with the
old Roman over at the Toronto radio station.

At that moment, Natalie barged into the precinct with her hand over
her eyes.  Without a word to anyone, she hustled through the bullpen
and down the stairs to the morgue.

"What the?" Tracy asked.

"What's with her?" Chris asked concernedly from the sergeant's desk.
"I hope she's okay."

Schanke shrugged and sighed deeply.  Unlike the others, he could guess
at the cause of their friend's malady.  "Tracy, can you excuse me for
just a sec?  I need to go talk to Natalie about something."

"Let's both go," the other detective disagreed.  "If this has
something to do with Nick, I want to know about it."

He admitted, "That's probably not a bad idea.  C'mon."

The two homicide detectives descended the stairs into the dark
passageway.  For a second, they didn't hear anything.  Then, from Room
2B, a sliver of light peeked out under the door.  As they moved
closer, they could hear sobbing.  Natalie was obviously upset.

"Man, Nick, I hope that you aren't behind this," he noted to himself. 
Knocking on the door, he called, "Natalie?  It's Schanke.  Listen,
Tracy and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Schank, no offense, but I really need to be alone right now.  I
really appreciate the thought.  Thanks," the pathologist replied.

"Are you sure?" Tracy probed.  "What happened?"

A long pregnant pause echoed in the hall before the coroner answered,
"Wh...why don't you come in?  You're right.  I don't want to be alone
right now."  

He gently pushed the door open and walked into the exam room.  In the
corner, Natalie stood watching them with her hands at her sides.  Her
eyes were red and puffy.  The right hand was wrapped in something and
had an ice bag tied against it.  "Geez, Natalie.  What happened?"

"I sprained my wrist.  Oops!" she cracked miserably.  Seeing her
friends weren't buying the performance, Natalie dropped the act,
continuing, "I...I went over to Nick's loft to talk about things.
Somehow, Steve came up in the discussion.  He started to get demanding
and we argued about him, Steve, Alyce, and me.  Then, Alyce came
downstairs.  I slapped her once and went to do so again.  She grabbed
my hand and wrenched it."  Rubbing her wrapped hand, she noted, "It
hurts...."

"Natalie, I'm so sorry," he apologized.  "I knew I should have said
something after that incident at the museum...."

The coroner crossed the room and demanded, "What incident, Schank?
Or, wait a minute, don't tell me, this isn't the first time they had
been together, is it?"

The paunchy detective shook his head and admitted, "No, it wasn't.
They were together at the museum the night after that fiasco at the
University.  Remember when Dave Dubois and I went looking for him?"

The pathologist nodded, "Let me guess.  They were together when you
found him, right?"

"That's right," he agreed.  "Dave felt that it was between you and
Nick.  So, I didn't say anything."

The ME bit back some angry words.  "Well, as much as I hate to admit
it, Dave had a point.  We are all supposedly grownups here.  I don't
agree with his thinking, but he has enough problems right now," she
said matter-of-factly.

Tracy stared at her friends curiously.  She knew that Nick and Natalie
had feelings for each other back in Toronto.  However, while
speculation had been rife in the Precinct for several years about
their relationship, they had never confirmed their feelings for one
another-at least not publicly.  During the first mess here in Tucson,
Nick had shown a great deal of concern for the coroner.  Yet, since
Alyce had appeared, he had drifted away from Natalie, moving closer to
the curator.  Shaking her head, she sighed, "I thought you two were
getting closer."

Natalie glanced in her direction, commenting, "So did I, Trace.
Everything seemed to be getting better.  Then, she popped back up on
the scene."  Collecting herself, she mentioned, "Sorry about the
scene, Guys.  I'm not myself tonight."

He rubbed her shoulder and hugged her, stating, "That's okay, Natalie.
I know.  When he gets back, Nick and I are gonna have a little chat
about this."

"Schank, don't!" Natalie pleaded.  "Maybe this is for the best.  With
all of our problems, maybe Nick and I aren't meant to be together."

"You really don't mean that," he argued.  "C'mon!  I've seen you two
together."

"I know.  But, Steve's here now. Speaking of which, I need to get a
hold of him," she noted, dialing his cell phone number.  "I've been
trying him for the last two hours."

Suddenly, Steve responded, "Petersen here."

"Steve, it's Natalie.  Where are you?  I...I need to talk to you," she
told him.

"Sorry, I've been taking care of a mess with Dave and Angie this
morning back in Massachusetts.  His father showed up at Cybelle's
house and hurt both her and Deirdre.  Dave jumped through the portal
and dealt with the old man.  I've been cutting through red tape all
morning," he reported.  "What's wrong?  Are you all right?"

"I went to Nick's this morning to talk.  We had a fight," she started.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked with concern.

"No, but Alyce sprained my wrist.  Steve, before you all leave, will
there be time for us to talk?" she replied.

"I was thinking...Do you have any vacation time?" he probed.

"Sure.  I have about three weeks in reserve, why?  You don't want me
to go with you, do you?" she pondered.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," he noted.  "I was hoping to
spend some time with you on this trip.  C'mon."

"Are you sure that's really a good idea, Steve?  For me to be so close
to Nick and Alyce right now might not be smart," she doubted.

"But, if you don't, we won't see each other for three weeks.  Natalie,
this is hard for me too.  I have to admit that I haven't felt like
this about anyone and well, I know this is going to be difficult for
everyone..." he revealed.

She managed a smile.  Maybe, this was a good thing after all.  "I had
my passport put in order just in case."

"Not necessary.  Just meet me at Dave and Angie's place at noon," he
advised her.  

"Where are they now?" she inquired.

""Back in Mass with Angie's parents, tying up loose ends.  I'm at
their place right now," he assured her.  "If you want to come over
sooner, I can meet you at your apartment if you'd like."

"I would like that, thanks.  Give me about 25 minutes, okay?  I need
to talk to Ramirez," she agreed.

"Sounds good," he concurred.  "I'll see you then."

"Right," she concluded and hung up the phone with a happy glimmer in
her eye.  

"Let me guess," Tracy probed,  "You're going too?"

"That's right," Natalie told her.  "Steve has asked me to go along
with them.  Apparently, he wants to talk with me on the trip."

"Are you sure that's such a hot idea?" he asked.  "I mean...given
what's happened?"

"Maybe it might be good for Nick to see that I have other
possibilities as well," the ME shrugged albeit more nonchalantly than
she really felt.

"Whatever," he relented.  "Just be careful, okay?"

"I will," she agreed, throwing some things into her black bag.  "See
you when I get back!"  

They watched her rush up the stairs toward the captain's office.
While he wanted her to take some vacation time, the two detectives
knew that he hadn't meant to do so in an abrupt fashion.  Still, they
hoped that this trip would be good for all parties rather than a
collective bundle of risks for them all.

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 5 

[House of Healing, Althanor]

The High Priestess leaned heavily on her staff as she staggered around
the House of Healing, checking on the infirm and injured priestesses. 
This aspect of the position always weighed the most on her, especially
given the circumstances.  Upon hearing from Genaria that Cybelle had
been brought back for treatment, she aborted her retreat and quickly
made her way to the healing facility.  

"The father and son have met once again and started the chain reaction
detailed in the prophecy," she sighed, having witnessed the incident
through her viewing pool.

In front of the hospital, Genaria stood waiting for her.  "Mother,"
she called.

"Genaria," the elderly woman acknowledged warmly.  "Thank you for
letting me know about the situation.  Is there any other news?"

"Yes, Cybelle is awake.  The herbal treatment should heal her ankle in
a few days time," the younger priestess explained.

The older woman barked a series of sharp coughs.  The illness eating
away at her stamina had made her far too weak to deal with the
situation at hand.  Now, with her heir temporarily incapacitated, the
task would fall onto the untested shoulders of Genaria and Deirdre.
"Could they handle it?" she wondered to herself.  

"This way, Mother," Genaria urged.  "Let me help you."

"Thank you, Child," the High Priestess smiled, allowing her companion
to assist her through the doorway.  About halfway down the row of
cots, she saw Cybelle lying on her back with her injured foot bound
tightly in linen and raised in the air.  Her face was bruised, as were
her arms.  "Goddess preserve me!" the old woman exclaimed.  

"Mother?" Genaria inquired.

For a brief second, the old priestess's inner fire flared, allowing
her to stand with her former bearing.  She declared, "I may be elderly
and frail, but no man lays a hand on a priestess of Althanor!  No
man!"

"David Dubois dealt with him," the other priestess commented.  

"So you have told me, and I have seen," the Mother nodded.  "How is
Deirdre?"

"Her mother tended to her," Cybelle replied testily, opening her eyes.
"I wish I could do something besides lying here and being useless."

"You need to rest," Genaria advised her compatriot.  "The situation is
being dealt with."

Cybelle chuckled, "You were always ready to step in where you're
needed, Genaria.  That's something I've admired about you from the
beginning."

"I've learned from the best," the younger priestess complemented.

Grasping the other woman's hand, Cybelle urged, "Now, you must be
strong.  It is up to you to represent us and to guide Deirdre in what
she must do."

"Deirdre?" Genaria probed.  "But, she has only come into her full
abilities."

"You know that the ways of the Faerie Empress are not revealed to us
better than anyone, Genaria," the High Priestess admonished gently.
"As much as I would wish it otherwise, the task ahead will fall on our
newest priestess's shoulders."

"So the prophecy has foretold, as have Deirdre's own dreams," the bed-
ridden patient concurred.  "She will have to stand by her father's
side in the trial to come."

Genaria fought back the butterflies in her stomach and stated, "You
can count on Deirdre and me.  We'll get the job done."

"Speaking of my niece, does she know where the battle is to take
place?" Cybelle inquired.

"David hasn't indicated the place, but we have a few stops in France
to make first," the younger priestess indicated.  "Speaking of which,
I should be getting back.  Mother, with your leave, of course."

"Go in peace, Child," the High Priestess granted.  "Walk the way
gently yet firmly."

Genaria nodded briefly as she created a portal and disappeared into
it.

For a long minute, the remaining priestesses stared at the dissipating
mist, wondering about the future and hoping for the best.  

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001	
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 6

[Amherst]

Dave sat on his sister's couch, sipping anxiously on a cup of cherry
tea and wondering what other obstacles life would throw in his path.
From the dirty looks his brother-in-law was shooting at him, more
potential fireworks lay on the horizon, but fortunately, Matt knew
better than to push his buttons right now.  "Yeah, you better keep
your distance, Buddy," he snarled low.

Despite the fact that he resented his house being taken over by the
police and his inlaws, Matt sat in the corner, stewing in his juices
and hoping that the situation would soon be resolved.

Angie walked over and asked, "Mind if I sit down?"

He patted the space next to him absently, replying, "You know there's
always a place for you, Princess."

"Thanks," she smiled while sinking down into the comfortable cushions.
"I was wondering how you're holding up."

"You know me.  I'm just waiting for the next major crisis to hit," he
joked.

She shook her head concernedly.   From the stories she had heard not
to mention their time together, she knew her husband lived his life
from crisis to crisis, waiting for the next shoe to drop.  Certainly,
seeing his father had not helped his state of mind.  "I...I know," she
assured him.  "And I can understand why you're doing all of this.
But, Honey, I'm not exactly made of glass.  Trust me, I can take care
of myself." She rubbed his hand gently, continuing, "We're a team.
Equal partners.  Remember when you said that?"

He nodded, recalling the scene in Cairo during their conference-
honeymoon.  "I do.  And I still feel that way.  It's just
that...well...I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you
or the girls."

"You mean like what happened this morning?" she baited half-seriously.

He shrugged, "I don't remember what happened between Deirdre's showing
up in the bedroom and Xena's appearance here.  I can see I went
berserk."

"Yeah, you did.  But at least, you both stopped short of homicide,
and, because of it, your father's still alive and Cybelle's okay.
You're a hero, Dave.  No matter what happens against Dijon, you'll
always be my hero," she noted, hugging him tightly.  "Count on it.
Now, can you do a favor for me?  My parents will be here any minute.
Can you compose yourself?"

"I'm about as ready as I'll ever be, but I am going to wash up.  Be
back in a few," he agreed.  Rising from the sofa, he started toward
the bathroom.  However, he turned to his wife, expressing, "Thank you,
Princess.  For just being you."

"My pleasure," she chuckled.  

Just after he disappeared down the hall, Angie heard a car pull up in
the driveway.  A quick glance out of the door told her that her
parents had arrived.  Walking out the door, she headed for the
automobile.

Bill Blackwell slowly creaked his way to his feet and ambled around to
the other side of the car to assist his wife, Jennifer, and the
elderly minister, Brother Tony.  The years were weighing heavily on
him, but Angie could still see the same presence in her father.  He
grinned at the sight of his daughter and waved.

 "Hi, Momma!  Daddy!" their daughter cheered, embracing them.

"Angie!  It's good to see you, Dear.  We came as soon as we could.
Are you all right?" Jennifer  inquired, hugging the younger woman.

"Not a scratch.  It's just been a very difficult week is all," the
oncologist revealed.

Her mother indicated, "Your grandfather mentioned that there was
trouble out in Arizona during his visit.  What's going on?"

"Can you go inside first?  I'd like to speak with Brother Tony about
something," Angie requested, looking about carefully.

"Of course, Angel," her father agreed.  "Come along, Jenny." With
that, he helped his wife into the house.

After her parents were out of earshot, Brother Tony posed, "How is
everything, Angela?  Really?"

"I didn't want to say anything in front of them.  At least not yet.
But, with everything happening, it's been crazy," she admitted.

The elderly minister nodded knowingly and soothed low, "It's going to
be fine.  Tell me, what does Xena think of this?"

She glanced around again and, after making sure that nobody was close
by, explained, "She's being a real help, Brother Tony.  I mean, she's
been through similar situations.  By the way, I've been meaning to
ask, how deeply did you read the scrolls?"

"Fairly extensively.  Why do you ask?  Angela, what happened in
Tucson?  What's going on with David?" he questioned.

"What do you remember of Alti?" she asked hesitantly.

The old man's eyes bulged and he gasped, "The shamaness!  She didn't
come back to life, did she?"

The oncologist nodded, "She was reincarnated.  Actually, Dave and Xena
have crossed her path on several occasions.  The first time nearly
killed him."

He racked his memory, recalling that the hag could touch people,
torturing them with their worst nightmares.  "She made him see his
childhood.  And, let me guess, she reawakened that dark persona within
him."

She shook her head.  "Not exactly, but she made him turn more violent.
We were up in Wabash about two months after that first encounter.  I'm
sure you remember him fighting Divia?"

"I can't ever forget that, Child.  Now, as for this challenge of
David's, he must go through with this confrontation.  We can be there
to help," the minister stated, quaking in fear at the sudden insight.

"We?" she asked skeptically.  "Don't get me wrong, Brother.  I would
love for you to accompany us, but aren't you needed in Wabash?"

"You and David are my children as well, Angela.  I have arranged for
the church services to be covered in my absence.  Meanwhile, with your
leave, I shall accompany you two in your quest," he declared.

"If that's the case, I would advise you to be ready for some
unorthodox travel," she informed him.  

Brother Tony scratched his head perplexedly at her comment.  "When it
comes to a task such as this one, Angela, there is no such thing as
'orthodox'," he surmised.  "Now, let's join your parents for our talk,
shall we?"

"Right," she agreed, helping him into the house.  Once inside, they
made their way over to where Dave was talking with her parents.  To
their credit, they seemed to be calming her husband down.

"Hi, Angel," her father greeted.  "We were just talking to David about
things."

"And...?" she asked nervously.

"Other than his mood, he's doing fine," her mother assessed.

The oncologist shot the minister a nervous glance, thinking, " 'Other
than his mood' he's always been okay.  That's the whole problem."

"So, how goes the rebuilding efforts?" Dave inquired.

"The downtown is pretty much back to the way it was," Bill pointed
out.  "Life's almost back to normal.  Everyone's still talking about
the damage though.  It was amazing how all of that damage could happen
in just a single evening without a tornado or storm in the area."

Brother Tony shuddered, remembering that night, and the twin storms,
two angry children with great power and devastating effectiveness,
which had leveled the town square between them in their fit of rage.
"That's why I need to be there no matter what," he confirmed to
himself.

"Are you set to take the twins?" Angie probed.

"Well, that was the general idea," Jennifer nodded. "We figured that
it would be a great time to visit with them.  But, why isn't Deirdre
coming?"

Dave glanced at his wife, searching for an explanation.  Finally, he
shrugged, "She's staying with Lori Applegate in Tucson.  Right,
Princess?"

"That's right," Angie agreed quickly.  

"You know we can take care of all three of them," Bill argued.  "No
need to bother your friend with Deirdre."

"Oh well.  It's done," his wife assented.  "Now, you two stay clear of
trouble.  Rest assured that Lauren and Karen will be fine while you're
gone."

"Thanks, Momma," her daughter smiled.  "You're the best."

"I'll second that," Dave concurred, hugging them both.  "Need some
help with their stuff?"

"That would be nice," his father-in-law agreed.  The two men brought
the girls' luggage out to the car and loaded it in the trunk.  Then,
the elder man continued, "David, you know I don't have to ask you
this, but what are you dragging my daughter into this time?"

"Excuse me?" the medievalist coughed.

"You heard me," Bill asserted.  "On your last visit, half of the town
ended up being leveled just when you were there."

"Heckuva coincidence if you ask me," the younger man shrugged.

"Coincidence my foot," the farmer scoffed.  "Look, David, I think
you're a great son-in-law and father.  The only concern I have is that
Angie's going to get caught in the middle of whatever it is you're
going after.  I don't want my daughter dead.  Understand?"

Dave's face darkened a bit.  If anyone else had taken this line with
him, they would have regretted it.  But, this was his father-in-law so
he patiently explained,  "Look, Papa B, nothing's going to happen to
Angie.  Believe me, she's tougher than either of us.  She and Brother
Tony insisted on going on this trip over my objections.  Trust me,
nothing's going to happen to us."

"Okay.  I hope you're right," Bill stated, letting the point go at
that.  He had no wish to test Dave's anger right now.  Not after what
Angie had told him and his wife about the last few days.  "Well,
that's everything.  Good luck on your trip.  I hope you find whatever
it is you're looking for."

"I hope so too," Dave concurred, giving the other man a hearty
handshake.  "Safe driving."

The elderly man saw Angie helping her mother and the twins up the walk
to the car.  After assisting Jennifer into her seat, he embraced his
daughter tightly and wished, "Be safe and strong."

"I will, Daddy," she affirmed.  "Nothing's going to happen.  Brother
Tony will see to that."

"Yes, I'm sure," he agreed, looking at his son-in-law again over her
left shoulder.  If anything happened, there would be Hell to pay.
"Well, say goodbye to the kids and we'll hit the road."

"Right," she sighed and joined her husband over by their daughters.
Stooping down, she directed, "Now, you two behave for Grandma and
Grandpa, okay?"

"No funny business now," he added.

Karen and Lauren stared seriously into their parents' faces.  Despite
their young age, they had already been through more than most people
experience in their whole lifetimes.  Nodding serenely, they chorused,
"Yes, Papa.  Yes, Mama."  Only a stray tear came from each of them.
Despite their experience, they were still only children after all.  

Their parents embraced them tightly.  "Nothing's going to happen to us
or Dee-Dee, right?  After this is over, we're going to have a lot of
fun, I promise," they assured the twins.

Through their own enhanced senses, the twins could sense that 'this'
was going to be a difficult situation, but, since they couldn't change
their father's mind either, Karen and Lauren climbed into the backseat
of their grandparents' car and strapped themselves in.  As the car
pulled away, they looked at their parents with a sense of fear and
dread, hoping for the best.

*****
 
In the driveway, Angie buried her head in Dave's shoulder and started
to sob.  After her parents drove away, the realization had finally hit
her.  They were really going to follow through on this battle.  It was
really going to happen.

"Honey?" Dave inquired, hugging her tightly and stroking her auburn
hair.  "Shh....It's going to be okay.  We had to send them with your
folks.  They'll be safe there.  You'll see."

"I know," she sniffled, wiping her eyes with her hand.  "But, I feel
that we're on a collision course with something serious, and we can't
stop it."

He nodded earnestly and agreed, "This is serious.  And, rest assured,
we've brought every possible advantage with us."  Holding her at arm's
length, he continued reassuringly, "You know how many bad situations
we've been through?"

"Lots.  Too many for my liking," she retorted.

"That's right.  And here's another problem for us.  One more hurdle,"
he told her.

"But, when is this going to stop, Dave?  When are we going to treated
as normal people?" she complained.

"We aren't normal, Angie," he noted.  "Somehow, I just get the feeling
that we're going to have to take life as it comes.  But, I'm not going
to let anything happen to you or our family.  No way.  Just be assured
that no matter how difficult life gets, I wouldn't want to spend it
any other way except with you at my side."  He kissed her forehead
tenderly as an exclaimation point.  "And you can take that one to the
bank!"

"You know I feel the same way, Buster," she concurred nervously,
gripping his hands firmly with her own.  "I guess this is what they
meant when they put the 'for better or worse' in the vows?"

"Absolutely," he agreed.  "Now, let's not keep Brother Tony waiting
any longer.  We have a lot of ground to cover."  With that, they
walked back toward the house.




Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 7
[Tucson]

Alyce walked down the stairs, lugging her packed suitcase.  For the
past three hours since Natalie had left, the loft had been unusually
quiet as if a heavy blanket were stifling any feeling or sound from
within the area.  "I hope she's okay," the curator wondered aloud,
setting her burden down beside the other bags.

Nick hadn't budged from the covered window.  He stood in shock, not
believing what had just taken place.  After all of the ups and downs,
that argument could have been the last straw for him and Natalie.
Many years invested gone just like that.  Now, he understood what
Schanke had been getting at during their conversation out in the
desert.  Maybe, it was best to "move on" in this sense.  For the first
time, he wouldn't have to leave a place to do so, but rather, this
transition would be one of the mind, spirit, and soul.  Upon hearing
Alyce's comment, he replied, "I'm sure she'll be fine.  You did grab
her really hard."

"She was slapping me, Nick," the vampiress told him.  "I guess I don't
know my own strength yet.  It's just that I remember that night when
you, she, and Schanke were in the museum in Toronto.  You two were so
close, and there was nothing I could do.  I wanted to crash through
the glass and let you know that I was still alive.  That I still cared
for you. You don't know how much that hurt me."

He hugged her tightly.  "I can imagine," he stated, recalling the
scene between Steve and Natalie in the morgue.  At that moment, he saw
the mist forming in the corner and Deirdre step into the loft from it.
"Deirdre," he acknowledged.

"That's me," she agreed.  "Are you two ready?  We have to meet
everyone back at the apartment."

"We are," Alyce agreed, picking up her bag.  "Is that where this
portal is going?"

"Indeed it is," the priestess agreed.

"Then, let's go," Nick agreed, taking a look around.  Everything was
shut down and the security set.  With another look back, he followed
the other immortal through the portal.

Deirdre glanced around the area herself.  "So many relics and
artifacts...no wonder Papa likes it here," she realized before
stepping into the dissipating mist herself and closing it behind them.

***

Steve looked about his friends' apartment one last time.  Everything
was shut off, as it had been when they left.  However, since he knew
how retentive Dave was--especially in his Child mode--the FBI agent
decided to make one more sweep.   "Sometimes, Dave, I gotta wonder how
you make it," he muttered.

Then a knock came from the door.  Walking over, he answered, "Yes?"

"Steve?  It's Francesca and Eve.  Can we come in?"  the Italian
literature professor replied.

"Absolutely," he agreed, opening the door.  "Please do.  Have your
bags packed?"

"They're right here," Eve indicated, placing hers on the carpet beside
her.  Glancing over at the bags beside the kitchen area, she asked,
"Are those David's bags?"

He nodded, "Those bags hold his gear and the explosives."

"Wait'll you see what he does with that stuff," Francesca deadpanned,
dropping her duffel on the floor behind her.  "I never knew he was a
chemist until I saw what he could do with those arrowheads.  Even if
his powers were to quit on him, I would still take him to knock out
the Enforcers."

The former Messenger winced, "Such destructive weapons.  Is the
darkness' influence that strong on him?"

"No," he indicated.  "But, Dave's had a very interesting life.  When
as many people come gunning for you as they do him, it's good to learn
some fighting skills.  Trust me, I've seen him shoot on the firing
range.  He's a crack shot, especially in his darkest mood."  

"I guess," the Amazon princess agreed, crossing her arms and squirming
at the thought.

"By the way, have you seen Natalie?"  he inquired.  "Deirdre's due
back with Nick and Alyce any minute, and I was hoping to leave at that
point."

The two women studied his face.  What was he getting at?  By all
accounts, she was supposedly staying behind.  

"I thought she was staying here," Francesca assumed.  "What's going
on?"

"She's coming.  Call it a last minute decision on both of our parts,"
he noted.  Hearing another rapping at the door, he asked, "Natalie?"

"Steve, it's me," the coroner replied.  "I'm ready to go."

Opening the portal, he hugged the newest arrival and stated, "I'm glad
you agreed to come."

"So am I," she agreed, carrying her suitcase into the room.  "So when
does the bus leave?"

Suddenly, the mist spilled into the corner of the room.  From it,
Alyce, Nick, and Deirdre entered the area.  

"Is this everyone?" Deirdre asked. "Genaria's already taken Karen to
our next destination."

Natalie stared icily at Nick and Alyce, and probed, "What is she doing
here?"

"As a vampire, it's my right to be there," the curator replied coolly.
"And you?"

"As a scientist, it's my right as well," the redhead shrugged.
"Besides, this isn't finished!"

Nick and Steve locked moody glances as well.  This wasn't going to be
a pleasant trip in any event.  Now, things would get more complicated.

"Enough!" Eve interjected forcefully, stepping between the four
parties.  "We have enough to worry about right now!  By Eli's will,
we'll have the opportunity to settle this matter later!"

The Elisian's outburst took everyone by surprise.  Normally soft
spoken, her command and bearing in that instant took on the more
aristocratic, almost regal upbringing of Livia.  This fact didn't
escape Francesca nor Nick for an instant.  But, as she had pointed
out, one crisis should be handled at a time.

"I guess we're ready," Steve indicated.  "Deirdre?"

"Right.  Next stop, England," the priestess replied matter of factly,
willing up a cloud column.  "All aboard."

The agent picked up his own suitcase and took Natalie's hand.
"Ready?"

"Uh huh," she replied nervously as they vanished into the mists.

"Eli, help us," Eve requested before she, Francesca, Nick, and Alyce
followed them into the mist.

The young priestess inspected the apartment once more.  Noting her
father's gear, she extended the fog over the bags, causing them to
vanish.  "Can't forget to bring them," she cracked to herself.  Then,
stepping through the portal, she closed it behind herself, leaving no
trace of anyone still within the area.





 
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 8 [Heaven]

Raphael peered impatiently into the viewportal in front of him.  Just
months before, Michael had argued that neither Xena nor David Dubois
were to be trusted for a routine task.  Now, those two, along with
their friends, were headed for Europe to deal with that immortal
vermin, Bertrand du Dijon.  "I wish I understood why this is
happening," he stated to himself.

"As do I, Raphael," another voice wondered aloud.

The archangel turned to see an ordinary angel approaching him.  The
other soul bowed deeply from his waist, expressing humility before his
superior.  "Thank you, Lorenzo.  I'm afraid I have no answers for
you."

"Hasn't David done enough?  Suffered enough?  Forgive me for sounded
impertinent, Raphael, but the boy is constantly fighting for his
survival!  I...I wish that Michael wouldn't require this sacrifice of
him," the other angel protested.

"That is not for us to say," Raphael noted.  "Believe me, I understand
where your concern comes from.  There is no impertinence in expressing
your views in a humble fashion, as long as you accept God's will."

"Well said, Raphael," Michael complemented, entering the area.  The
blonde, well-built archangel strode purposefully up to the viewportal
and realized, "Yes, all is proceeding according to plan."  Glancing at
the prostrated angel before him, he added, "Please rise, Lorenzo.
While your humility is appreciated, I do not require that of you.
There is something else you can do for me, however."

"Name it," the deceased grandfather agreed.

"You will go to David at the proscribed moment and guide him in
certain things.  This is for his benefit.  I want him in a certain
state of mind when I go to him," the newcomer explained.  "He will
need his inner darkness to defeat Dijon.  But, he must be balanced to
use it properly."

"I understand," the newest angel concurred.  "I will do what it takes
to help him and the others to succeed.  Thank you, Michael."

"You are quite welcome," Michael replied, appreciating the other's
manner.  Perhaps, he laid the humility on a little thick, but, after
dealing with others such as Lucifer, Lorenzo's purity was a welcome
addition to the feriment. Watching the regular angel leave, he thought
that the other had a lot of potential.

"Do you think this can work?" Raphael inquired.

"It has to, Raphael," his colleague asserted, producing a gleaming
metal sword from thin air.  "With this, Dubois will dispose of that
vampiric nuisance or die trying.  Dijon has served his purpose.  Now,
it is time to send him to his reward."

The Italian archangel nodded in agreement.  As always, Michael seemed
to have a plan and the knowledge to make it work.

***

[Istanbul, Turkey]

The midnight sky over the Golden Horn created an air of seeming
serenity for the Eurasian city.  Shipping continued to come and go.
Tourists flocked through the downtown strip and the bazaar.  Tokapi
Palace continued to hold its same regal appearance as it had over the
previous 600 years during the reigns of the Ottoman sultans.  Aya
Sofia loomed over the area as well, emanating its own mysterious
magnetism to native and foreigner alike.  Truly, this city was a
mixture of ancient and modern traits.

LaCroix descended out of that very night sky and studied his
surroundings.  As much as he enjoyed this place for its culture and
vibrant energy, the elder vampire would have rather been nearer to
Nick and Dave keeping an eye on their progress.  Instead, he stalked
the cobblestones of the walk overlooking the Golden Horn on his own,
peering into the darkness with his enhanced senses.  In the inky
blackness, he picked up on a familiar vibration.  Yes, it was another
vampire and one very much like him.  "Ali, I've come as you requested!
Enough games, Turk!  Show yourself!" he demanded.

Ali landed right in front of him and indicated, "As you wish, Lucius. 
Thank you for coming so far to meet me here."

The Roman snorted, "We haven't the time for games or idle talk, Ali.
I trust this is important and concerns the duel."

The Turk nodded, "It does indeed concern our dirty business, Lucius.
We both have a role in this affair, do we not?  I say we intervene."

LaCroix managed to keep a straight face, allowing only his right
eyebrow to arch.  "Really?  On whose authority?  The Elders have
decided not to interfere.  You and I were party to that agreement,
Ali."

"But how could you call for that vote?" the other snarled.  "You who
created this mess in the first place!"

LaCroix stiffened.  How dare the other Elder accuse him thus?  "I did
not create the mess, Ali.  It was your protege, Dijon, who created the
mess as you call it by botching his task.  He left Dubois alive!  Now,
let him deal with that failure, either by killing the insolent mortal,
or by dying himself!  We cannot intervene.  I have asked Nicholas to
stay out of this affair, but you know how children will not listen!
If your Enforcer protégé lays a hand on either of my children or their
friends, he will answer to me!"

"If he does his job as an Enforcer after disposing of Dubois, then so
be it!" the Turk spat.  "Besides, he and Xena have a score to settle."

The former general hissed and, staring right into the other immortal's
eyes, warned, "Leave her and her annoying blonde sidekick out of this!
They are mine to deal with!  Do you hear me?  Mine!  I will not brook
interference in that regard either from you or your out of control
brat.  Do you understand?"

Ali nodded grimly.  He should have known better than to deal with
LaCroix in this fashion.  "Perfectly.  I will see you when the battle
comes," he groused, taking off into the night sky.

For a long minute, LaCroix paced the ramparts, reflecting upon the
conversation he had just had with the other Elder.  "Fascinating," he
mused aloud.  "For a former Janissary and imperial diplomat, he has
little respect for decorum and how things need to be done."  Looking
up to the sky, he took off into the night, seeking shelter now that
his task was finished for the present.  At least until Nicholas and
the others showed up.



  

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1
Chapter 9 [O' Connell Manor-outside of London]

Alex O' Connell sat in his study amidst his books and papers trying to
concentrate on his latest project.  Thanks to his parents, the elderly
professor of archeology and fellow of the British Museum had been
around scholarly pursuits all of his life.  For the most part, this
activity had proved delightful.  However, on more than one occasion,
these endeavors had threatened to take his life.  However, as with his
mother, such dangers failed to deter him.  "Rubbish," he thought.
"I've survived mummies, vampires, witches, and bad papers from
students.  What could be so bad?"

At this point, he walked over to the shelf and picked out four rather
dusty tomes.  "Hopefully, these will help David and Angela," he
sighed, setting them down heavily on the desk.  "Rather weighty they
are," he remarked half-seriously, recalling the incident with the
Bracelet of Anubis from his childhood.  That race with the sun and
fate had come a hair's width from killing him.  This scenario could
prove just as deadly.  "Anyone fearsome enough to give Nicholas and
LaCroix concern is worth learning more about," he remarked to himself.

"What's to know, Grandpa Alex?" Angie inquired, trying to keep a smile
pinned on her face.  "We're dealing with an immortal knight turned
Enforcer who wants to kill my husband."

The elderly man raised his right eyebrow in confusion and asked, "And
this doesn't concern you?  In the four hours since your arrival, you
seem awfully cavalier about these events if I may say so."

She shrugged, allowing the cheery façade to drop momentarily, "No, I'm
not really, but this is my best effort to keep a positive front for
Dave's sake.  This is almost too much for me.  If it wasn't for
Francesca, Karen, and Eve, I don't know how I would be doing right
now."

"Yes," he nodded, embracing his granddaughter.  "You've always been
strong, Angela.  That quality will do well for you in this situation. 
There is one person I wish you could meet.  She was so determined and
fearless in the face of a fight.  In fact, she was there with David
and Cybelle."

"Xena, right?" she guessed, an ironic smile spreading across her face.
"Actually, we have met.  There are times I wish I could just snap my
fingers and become her, believe me."

[From deep inside of her head, the Warrior Princess grinned amusedly,
"Snap her fingers, huh?  I wonder what Alex would say if she drew the
sword and actually became me?"]

"You too have a lot in common," he assured the oncologist. "I think
you would get along just fine."

Echoing her roommate's ponderings, she mused to herself, "You don't
know the half of it."  Straightening herself, she inquired, "So, what
are you researching now?"

"That vampire-knight," he noted.  "I'm trying to find some weakness or
a chink in his armor."

She rubbed her grandfather's shoulder.  "If anyone knows Dijon and
that era of history, it's Dave.  He's been working on this issue
himself for quite a while.  Besides, he has Nick to advise him," she
commented.

"So, you know about Nicholas?" he probed.

"About the fact that he's a vampire?  Yes, I've known about that since
the first night we met in Toronto.  Trust me, if there's someone who's
giving my hubby the inside scoop, it's Nick," she replied.  "And I
feel better that LaCroix is staying clear of this particular fight.
We have enough to worry about."

The elderly professor analyzed his granddaughter once again. How did
she know about LaCroix?  The television cameras had failed to pick up
on her at the battle scene.  Where had she been during her husband's
clash with Alti?  This would bear some further consideration.  "Yes, I
agree.  Meantime, if you will excuse me, I need to get some more
reading done before it gets too much later.  Thank you for stopping
by, Angel."

"You're welcome," she smiled and departed from the area, wondering
what was going through the old man's head at that point.

***

On the ground floor, Steve, Karen, Francesca, and Dave sat anxiously
waiting for Angie to join them.  Alex's living staff had brought
coffee, hot water for tea, and scones for them in the meantime.  Since
Deirdre had popped them across the Atlantic to join the Duboises, the
others had remained on edge.  Even as they sat on the fairly modern
couches, the eerie feeling of the medieval manor house sent a buzz
through their systems.

Finally, Dave broke the silence, joking, "Hey, guys.  You aren't the
one who's being hunted here.  Chill out."

Steve quipped, "For someone in your situation, you seem remarkably
chipper."

"I'm just not letting it get to me is all," the medievalist replied
factually.  "If I did, I would be really vulnerable to my mood swings,
and I am not about to let my dark side out at the moment."

Karen shook her head in wonder at Dave's words.  He had come so far
since those first days.  "I'm glad to see you keeping your composure. 
Gram would be really proud of you right now."

Taking a sip from his coffee, the FBI agent concurred, "I'll agree
with that."  Seeing Francesca's confused glance, he explained, "His
grandmother, Janet Dubois."

"Oh," the Italian literature professor nodded uncertainly.

"Relax," Dave assured her.  "I'm sure your Aunt Beatrice would feel
the same way."

"As do we all," Angie agreed, walking downstairs from the study.
"Well, Grandpa Alex's plugging away on Dijon's background." Walking
over to the table, she selected a blueberry scone and plopped herself
down at her husband's side.  "How's it going, Hot Shot?"

"The same," her husband cracked.  "I think your grandfather's waiting
for me to explode.  Given how I treated your great-uncle Jonathan back
in the Sahara, I don't blame him one iota."

Karen and Steve stared at him expectantly.

Guessing their thoughts, Francesca recounted, "When Xena, Gabrielle,
Cybelle, and Dave went back to help them, our medieval historian here
acted more like a pit bull at times, especially around that poor man. 
Given how Alti's influence didn't help matters, I hope things are
better this time."

"They will be," Karen asserted, gripping Dave's hand.  "And we're all
here to make sure of that."

"Amen," Steve added, placing his hand on top of the other two.

"Ditto," Francesca chorused, doing the same.

"And, of course, that's goes without saying for me," Angie emphasized,
topping the mound of hands and kissing her companion on the cheek.

Dave grinned, "You know that the support makes it easier for me.
Thank you, everyone.  I mean it.  Thank you.  It's been a long road
for us all.  Hopefully, with this battle's ending will come a new
beginning."

The others beamed at his hopeful attitude.  Whatever was picking his
soul up at the moment; they prayed that it would stay around for the
duration and beyond.

***

Brother Tony meditated quietly in his room on the future.  The trip
across the Atlantic by means of the fog portal had been unbelievable. 
Given how things had accelerated since that morning, the elderly
minister wanted to prepare himself for the worst.  

"Just two days ago, I would have thought that I would be preparing
this weekend's sermon.  Now, here I am in England, assisting in battle
preparations," he sighed.  Running his hands along the sides of his
head, his fingertips ran across the old scars from LaCroix's attack so
many years before.  If anyone would understand why David needed to
deal with the Enforcers' threat, it was he.  Folding his hands, he
prayed, "Thank You for the reminder." With that, he continued his
meditation.

***

Meanwhile, Natalie sat on the edge of her bed, nervously gulping a cup
of coffee and trying to read that day's edition of The Times.
"Anything to get my mind off of my nerves, right?" she supposed,
flipping another page and scanning the contents.  But, try as she
might, her situation still hung heavily in the air.  The sight of Nick
with Alyce continued to upset her, however, didn't she feel something
for the FBI agent?  "C'mon, Nat.  Deal with it," she told herself.
"We don't need any other problems right now."  With that, she refilled
her coffee cup and returned to her reading.

***

Nick paced the length of his room, considering the possibilities in
front of the group.  Once they had started this endeavor, they would
be popping back and forth between the manor and their targets almost
in the fashion of the medieval chevaucee.  The former knight pondered
his own actions.  How would he react to being in those places once
again?  And what if he had killed Dijon in Rouen when he had the
chance to do so?  As with Jack the Ripper, he was left with regrets
and a possible dilemma.  "If anybody suffers, how much of the blood is
on my hands?" he wondered.

"Why would there be blood on your hands?" Alyce inquired, entering the
area.

"I could have stopped Dijon before.  If only I had just drained him,"
he argued, stalking across the room and filling his goblet with fresh
bloodwine made from a cow on the estate.  

"But, Nick, how would you have known what he would become?" the
curator countered, zipping to his side.  "I can sense that you've
always hated what we are.  Despite everything that barbarian did, you
still held to your principles."

"So I guess I should just accept the fact that it's not my problem
anymore," he shrugged.

She shook her head, disagreeing, "No, it is our problem, Nick.  It
just happens that Dave gets to deal with it.  Let's hope that he's
successful.  If the worst does happen, then it will fall to the rest
of us to confront the Enforcers.  Meantime, please don't keep playing
the scene over and over in your head.  It won't do any good."  

He managed a small smile and admitted, "I guess not.  Thanks, Alyce."

The curator grinned and embracing him, asserted, "You're welcome,
Nick.  Just know I'm here for you.  Now, let's just try to enjoy the
moment, okay?"

He nodded.  Sitting down on one of two red velvet chairs in the corner
of the room, he motioned to the adjoining seat.  She followed his lead
and for a while, they remained there, looking into each other's eyes.
 




Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1 (Thanks to Jarvinia for suggesting
certain elements in this scenario.)

Chapter 10

[Toronto]

Inside of their warehouse hideaway, the renegade vampires awaited
their leader's arrival nervously.  In their previous two attempts to
rid the Community of the threats from Tucson, their efforts had only
made things worse.  First, Dijon's Enforcers had publicly attacked
Dubois and his friends in the midst of the University of Arizona
campus.  That blunder cost them six of their best hunters and
witnessed Xena regaining her immortal-killing powers.  In the second
instance, they thought that Alti and the Xena-clone would have tipped
the scales in their favor.  And, everything started off beautifully as
the shamaness delivered her lecture.  However, Dubois stood ready for
her attack, and, with the aid of his allies, defeated her once again. 
In addition, Dijon's challenge meant they couldn't touch him until the
duel.  The Elders had met and were after them.  Such were the fruits
of failure.

At 10PM, the leader entered the room with a rushed gait and sat in his
usual place.  He nodded, picking up on the nervous energy hanging in
the air, and inquired, "I take it we're ready to act, then?"

The Oriental vampiress slammed her fist on the oak table, noting, "How
can we?  Dijon's challenge means that we cannot move against the
accursed ones.  Both the Elders and the Enforcers have said as much!"

"Yes," the African-American immortal concurred, "At least not
honorably."

The leader nodded, "Go on...."

"But, we cannot do so!  You heard her!" the other stated.

"You said we couldn't honorably move against them.  Who says that we
have to stick to the older ones' rules?  The longer we hesitate, the
more powerful they become," he disagreed, producing a cell phone.

"What are you doing?" the Asiatic representative inquired.

"Taking matters into my own hands," the leader asserted, pressing a
button and allowing the device to speed-dial a preset number.

His compatriots glanced at him and each other with wonder.  At least
they had been righteous in their previous attempts.  However, what
honor would there be in this sneak attack?

The leader analyzed his comrades and moved quickly, saying, "Hello.
It's time."

A voice on the other end assured, "It will be done.  But what of
Dijon?  He is our leader."

"Never mind his foolishness.  I'm telling you to eliminate the vermin
now," the head renegade commanded. "Do you understand?"

"As I said, we will not fail you," the operative promised while
hanging up.

The leader hung up and looked over his comrades' faces, a feral smile
spreading across his own.  "Relax, Everyone.  I've just set the wheels
of our triumph in motion.  I think we'll have something to celebrate
by the end of the evening," he advised, pouring himself a goblet of
bloodwine.  "I think it's going to be a very good day after all."  A
slight chuckle escaped his lips before he continued, "A very good day
indeed."

***
 
[O' Connell Manor]

Outside of the mansion, seven shadowy figures watched the grounds very
carefully.  Their ruby-red eyes swept the area, looking for possible
problems.  These Enforcers had a very important mission: take out the
group inside of the manor house before they could be any further
threat.  

The group's leader, a swarthy Persian, hung up the phone.  With a
series of quick hand movements, he motioned to his compatriots,
indicating, "Mehmet, take the back.  Fibrano, take the left side.
Roget, take the right side.  I'll go in through the front with
everyone else,"

Mehmet, a Circassian Enforcer with a fiercesome reputation and an
attitude to match, agreed, "It shall be done."  

Fibrano, the Enforcer-supreme from central Italy, assented silently,
disappearing in a blur as did the French immortal.

"Follow me," the leading Enforcer dictated.  "And let's be careful."


*** 

Dave sat in the main area, concentrating on his friends' faces.  Being
in a medieval setting with some of his oldest compatriots surrounding
him was like Heaven to him. He decided to enjoy it, knowing that such
bliss wouldn't last very long....

At that moment, Angie tapped him on the arm, whispering, "Dave, did
you feel that?"

He scanned the area with his senses, expanding the zone with each
sweep.  Just outside the house, he picked up on several empty spots
approaching their position rapidly.  "Shit!" he growled.  "Damn it all
to Hell!"  Jumping to his feet, he ran for his duffels.  "Everyone,
get movin'!  Now!"

"David, what is it?" Eve probed.

"Several vampires," the oncologist revealed, reaching over her right
shoulder.  "Francesca, do it!" she advised while triggering her own
transformation.

The Literature professor followed suit, exchanging places with
Gabrielle.

"What is it?" Steve demanded, cocking his gun.  "The Community knows
the rules.  They wouldn't dare!"

His longtime friend strapped on his quiver and snickered darkly, "Do
you think they all care about the rules?  What about your group of
Renegades, Steve?"  After checking the tension of his bowline, he
noted, "Those spoilsport cheats are quite capable of this type of
activity.  You know that as well as I do."

The agent nodded nervously, glancing at the wall beside him, "Then,
I'm glad I prepared a little surprise for them."

"What should I do, Papa?" Deirdre inquired.

"Get Eve and Karen out of here," Xena advised, readying herself for
the inevitable attack.

The priestess reluctantly agreed, "Very well.  I'll take them to
Althanor."  Opening up the mists, she urged, "Come on."  After the two
women had entered the portal, she started through.  But, just before
disappearing, she told the remaining people, "I'll be back with help."
Having said that, she vanished from view.

The Warrior Princess grinned, muttering, "Looks like she has your
stubborn streak, David."

Chuckling mischievously, he retorted, "I would say it's more like
Angie's determination.  Anyhow, you ready?"

Brother Tony stuck his head out of the upstairs door, yelling, "There
are two monsters outside!"

"Get yourself to a secure place, lock the door, and say your best
prayers, Brother," Gabrielle suggested, unscrewing the ends of her
staff and revealing the javelin.  "We'll need them."

The elderly minister concurred, "You shall have them, my friends."
Then, he ducked back through the doorway, securing the portal behind
him.

"Okay.  Now what?" Steve probed.

At that moment, the second story windows exploded inward, raining
glass fragments everywhere.  Simultaneously, the fifteenth-century
oaken doors collapsed as well, allowing the intruders to enter the
house.

Dave glanced around at everyone.  Fortunately, nobody was seriously
hurt.  For a long minute, he looked about the area, recognizing the
immortals on the second story balcony.  "Some reception party," he
muttered, readying his bow.  Looking toward the front entrance, he
challenged, "Come out, Snake.  Come out, or I'll smoke you out!  You
should know you can't hide from us!  Let's go!"

The vampires surrounding the heroes snickered, "He thinks he can smoke
you out, al-Namari!"

"Suit yourself," Xena shrugged, giving her roommate's husband a quick
glance.  

He grinned wickedly, producing a shaft with a blue ball on the tip,
and lighting it on a nearby taper.  "Hope you fellows need your
supplements today," he hissed, firing the smoking projectile into the
dark entryway.  "That garlic oughtta get your attention!"

The arrowtip exploded, releasing a thick, cloying cloud throughout the
area.  Most noticeably, the pungent odor of garlic permeated
everything, blinding the immortal intruders and interfering with their
senses.

"Have fun with this, Boys," the Warrior Princess challenged, flinging
her chakram toward the upper level.  Even with the blind toss, the
circular weapon's path caromed off of the walls, ceiling, lamps,
before decapitating the three Enforcers on the overhang.  Having
served its purpose, it returned to her hand straightaway.

Dave grinned, "Three down.  Two to go.  My turn."  Priming his bow
with two more stake-shafts, he stared into the mists.  Despite the
fact that his own eyes were watering from the conditions, he
remembered to reach out with his senses.  About twenty feet in front
of him, the medievalist picked up on the other attackers and fired
without hesitation.  

From the mist, a scream pierced the silence along with an acrid stench
indicating that at least one of the arrows had found their mark.  But,
he knew that the leader was still lurking in the cloud.  

Then the Arab lunged, knocking his opponent to the floor, exclaiming,
"Ha!  Now, I shall claim the kill!"

"I don't think so!" the Amazon queen denied, stabbing through his
shoulder with her javelin.

The enraged vampire turned to face his new opponent for just a second.
But, with the distraction, he allowed Dave's mind to flip-flop again,
allowing the Child to emerge. 

"Hey, one par'ner at a time!" the Dark One chastised, slamming his
attacker with an energy pulse and sending the surprised Enforcer
across the room.  "Now, where were we?" he snapped.

By now, the mist had dissipated, allowing the opponents to see each
other.  Circling his chief mortal adversary carefully, the Arabian
Enforcer admired the dark power emanating from the young man in front
of him.  "What a pity one of us has to die," he remarked. Then, he
felt the sensation of cold steel slicing through him followed by the
sensation of nothingness.  Looking backward as he collapsed to the
floor, his last sight was of Xena whipping her bloody sword overhead. 


"Yeah, it's a cryin' shame, ain't it?" she scoffed.

"I...I'll see you all in Hell," the dying Enforcer spat before finally
succumbing to his fate.

"I'm glad that's it," Steve muttered in relief.

Hearing a crash from the other end of the house followed by screams,
Gabrielle disagreed, "I think we have some more uninvited guests."

"Great!" His Darkness snickered enthusiastically.  "More scum to
skewer!  'Mon!"  Rushing up the stairs, he blasted the door off its
hinges, rushing into the darkness ahead.

"If those dirtbags touch Natalie, there'll be a price to pay," Steve
asserted to himself.  Reaching into his own duffel, he produced a
crossbow and some bolts. Following his friends upstairs, he hoped he
wouldn't have to use it, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 11

A few minutes earlier, Alex worked furiously on the works lying open
in front of him, hoping for answers.  A crash from the window across
the room broke his concentration.  Looking up, he recoiled at the
sight of the massive Enforcer standing there.  Remembering both his
and his mother's earlier studies, the elderly professor summoned all
of his courage, and asked, "What is your business here?"

"O' Connell, we meet again," Roget recognized.  "This time you won't
escape me!"  

The interloper's words jarred the archaeologist's memory.  It had been
in 1944 back in the Valley of Kings.  There, as a young man, he had
accompanied his parents, Rick and Evelyn O' Connell, and their friend,
Ardeth Bey, on an adventure.  There was something in the tombs....For
some reason, he couldn't remember what it was.  But, he did remember
that Nick was there, as was his master, LaCroix.  True to form, his
mother had released the thing, requiring the Enforcers' presence.  By
the skin of their collective teeth, the party managed to reinter
whatever was there.  "I've done nothing to violate your Code, Roget.
Since that day, I've said nothing of your kind to anyone."

"Oui.  Which is why we have permitted you to live to a ripe old age by
mortal standards.  But, by harboring Dubois and his associates, you
have doomed yourself," the French vampire hissed, advancing on him.

Alex noticed the door crack open slightly.  Through the opening,
Brother Tony slid into the area, holding his finger over his lips.

Despite these efforts, Roget smiled, announcing, "Come in, Mortal.
Come in and die!"

Tony produced his silver crucifix and a vial of holy water.  Holding
them up in front of him, he stated, "Do you think that I wouldn't be
prepared for your kind, Demon!  Not after that night so long ago!"

Scanning the newcomer, Roget snickered, "Yes, I sense one of us tried
to feed on you.  Too bad he missed."

"Unfortunately for you!" the minister shouted back defiantly.
Circling the immortal warily, he eyed the enemy's every move.

Roget retreated slightly from the holy symbol, considering his next
move.  With the speed of thought, he crossed the room and barred the
door.  "Now, we're alone.  And, I doubt you can keep up your defenses
all night!"

"Lord, help us," Tony invoked.

"And what will He do now?  Break down the door and kill me?" the
vampire hunter baited.  "Prepare for the end...both of you." At that
moment, he felt something coming toward the room.  "What now?"

Alex listened carefully.  From outside the door, a telltale growling
announced the presence of another presence.  His mind flashed back to
his other adventure with the Duboises.  That noise meant one thing,
and, if he was right, either help or further trouble was coming
quickly and the oak door wouldn't stop it.  "Brother, hit the deck
now!"

The ecclesiastic followed his host's directions, seeking a safe haven
from what was about to come through the barrier.

A second later, the door exploded inward, spraying the room with a
shower of shards. Dave, or rather, the Child, stepped through the now-
vacated area, grinning like a hungry panther approaching its prey.
"Well now.  'Nother playmate!  All right!" he snarled.

"Dubois!  Dijon will reward me for killing you!" Roget crowed.

The Dark Persona shrugged, "Big Brother ain't here.  You're dealin'
with me, scum-ass.  How 'bout backin' them pretty words up?"  From his
one open eye, a yellow glint further identified himself.  "Come on,
make my day!"

Roget spat, "My pleasure!"  Thus angered and his honor affronted by
the insolent mortal, the vampire charged forward right into a powerful
pulse which sent him into the far wall with a sickening thud.

"Your leader tried that on us and that boy's seriously dead.  Next,"
the Child sniggered, lighting one of his garlic bombs.  "Catch!"

The bomb exploded at the vampire's feet causing him to wheeze and gag.
"Argh!" he coughed.

"David!" Alex called.  "Quit toying with him!"

"Aw!  Hush up!  I'm havin' fun!" the enraged man snarled.  Looking
down, he saw three particularly big pieces of wood.  "Yeah!" he
realized, a particularly saucy gleam present in the left eye.
Focusing, he telekinetically lifted the shards and flung them across
the room.  Two of the pieces found each of Roget's shoulders, pinning
him to the wall.

The French immortal noted that the third piece had stopped right in
front of his chest and snapped, "Finish me!"

"In good time," the other combatant informed him.  " Don't fret now.
Soon, Mustard Boy will be joinin' ya!"  With that, another mental push
imbedded the makeshift stake in the Enforcer's chest, completing the
task.  "Rot in Hell!"  

"Lock yourselves in," the Child barked to the other men.  "I'm goin'
to help Xena!"  Turning, he bolted into the hallway, heading toward
the remaining battle.

***

From his outside vantage point, Fibrano sensed the others' failures
around him.  While retreating would seem to be the advisable option,
he felt a sense of duty pushing him onward.  "The mission.  I must
complete it," he realized.  Breaking through the window closest to
him, he came across Natalie reading on her bed.  "The coroner!" he
chuckled.

For her part, Natalie tensed.  Jumping to her feet, she grabbed the
top of a pine chair, advising, "Stay back.  I haven't done anything to
you."

"You know too much!" the attacker noted.  "For that, you die."

At that moment, twin blurs flew through the open door, tackling
Fibrano.  

"Who would dare?" he snarled.  Looking at the interlopers, he grinned,
"Brabant and Hunter, I'm glad you could make it.  I can finish you all
off at once."

"Not if we can help it!" Alyce challenged, albeit more courageously
than she felt.  Flying at the intruder, she backhanded him across the
face with little effect.

"I admire your dedication, Fledgling, but for striking an Enforcer,
you're finished," Fibrano announced, grabbing her arm hard and
flinging her to the floor.

Nick roared, "No!"  After all that he had lost to the vampire
community over the centuries, he wouldn't lose her too.  With a rush
of desperation, the former Crusader charged, ramming the other vampire
through the remaining window.

Regaining his balance, Fibrano realighted in the room.  His eyes
glistening bloody red and his fangs were descended.  "I see you care
about them, Nicolas de Brabant.  Still the chivalrous knight, eh?
Well, it doesn't matter, Chevalier.  I'll eliminate you first!" he
challenged.

Despite his bravado, Nick knew he couldn't defeat the Enforcer.  But
perhaps, he could buy the others a few minutes to escape.  Glancing at
Natalie and Alyce, he nodded to them.

Turning to the two women, Fibrano crowed, "Get ready.  You're next!"

From the open door, a familiar voice disagreed, "I don't think so!"  A
second later, a pair of wooden bolts penetrated the Enforcer's chest,
dropping the other to the floor and reducing him to a pile of ash.

Steve rushed into the room under a full head of steam.  "Natalie!" he
called, dropping the crossbow and embracing the coroner passionately. 
"Are you all right?"

"Just a little shaken up," she sighed.  "Thanks to you."  Kissing him
quickly, she smiled as the familiar warm feeling buzzed up her spine. 


The agent inquired, "How are you both?  That was risky business,
taking on an Enforcer like that."

"We couldn't let him hurt Natalie," Alyce explained.  "As I said to
her in the loft last night, I am her friend."

"No matter what happens, Nat, you still matter to us," Nick
emphasized, rubbing the ME's shoulder.  "I'm glad you two are happy."

"Thanks, Nick," she replied, surprising herself with her sincerity.
"It's nice to hear you say that."

"That goes double for me," Steve agreed.  "I'm glad you both are as
well."

At that moment, the two warrioresses followed by Dave reached the
scene.

Seeing the ashes, Xena stated, "I see everything's under control here.
Nice shooting, Steve."

"Thanks," he responded graciously.  "Nick and Alyce deserve a great
deal of credit too."

"They delayed the Enforcer until Steve could finish him," the coroner
added.  

"All well that ends well," Gabrielle stated.  "At least for now."

The Warrior Princess studied the medievalist carefully.  With every
crisis, he was forced to give increasing ground to his darkness.  If
this process continued, it would endanger everything.  "I hope so,
Gabrielle," she replied wistfully.  "But, we still have a long road
ahead of us."

"Right," the Child concurred and closed his eyes.  Within an eyeblink,
Dave reasserted control.

"Wow," he sighed, rubbing his head in an attempt to hold off the
impending headache.  "I guess the war starts early, doesn't it?  Trust
Dijon not to honor his word."  Looking at his companions anew, he
assessed, "Let's get some rest.  Tomorrow, we cross the Channel.  I
want some answers ASAP."

The others agreed.  While they would have liked to slowly approach the
issue, this trip wasn't a pleasure cruise.  Indeed, as the attack had
just proved, they were targets.  Best to deal with the situation and
move on.  Having realized that, they began to make their way toward
the downstairs area to check with Brother Tony and Alex before
retiring for the evening and preparing for their trip on the morrow.


Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 12 [Tucson]

Schanke looked up at the bullpen clock anxiously.  "Only two more
hours to go," he told himself.  Seeing Tracy sit down in front of him,
he asked, "Anything on our latest John Doe?"

She shook her head, "Nothing.  You know, I really like Annie.  She's a
great kid and she's doing okay downstairs, but..."

"But, she not Natalie, right?" he guessed amusedly.  "Yeah, I know.
This is a tough enough case without her and Nick disappearing as they
have.  They do have their own problems."

The blonde detective ran her hand through her blonde hair and
admitted, "I know, Schanke.  It just doesn't seem fair that every time
a difficult case comes up, they go poof, leaving us to pick up the
pieces."

He chuckled knowingly, "Look, Tracy.  It comes with the territory when
you work with Nick.  You should know that by now."

"Yeah, I guess," she agreed reluctantly while throwing on her coat.
"Keep the fort here.  I'm going to check something out."

"What?  Now, you're going to hold out on me?  Oh no, we're goin'
together," he argued, following her out of the precinct.

***

Twenty minutes later, Schanke's station wagon sat at the corner of
Kolb and 22nd Street.  It had been a relatively quick drive to this
part of town due to the time of the morning.  Nobody was awake except
for themselves and the clerks in the convenience store across the
street.

"Are you sure he's gonna show?" he protested warily, glancing around
at their surroundings.

"Sure," Tracy affirmed.  "Trust me.  He'll be here."  At that moment,
she heard a rapping on the door and saw Vachon grinning like a cat.
"See, I told you," she baited her companion while rolling down the
window.

"Hey, Trace," the Spaniard greeted.  "What's with Schanke?  I thought
we were doing this meet by ourselves."

The paunchy detective shot him an icy glare.  "I know about you guys. 
I figured that she might need backup."

The vampire chuckled amusedly at the statement.  "I got to give him
credit," he thought.  "But that Pillsbury Doughboy wouldn't make it
for ten seconds against my kind."  

"So is there any news?" she pushed.

"You mean about Dubois and his friends?  Actually, Janette received
some bad vibes from Nick if you get my drift earlier tonight," the
Iberian immortal started.

"What?  He's in trouble?" Schanke interrupted.  "Dang it!"

"Hey, Schanke, simmer down for a sec, okay?" she soothed.  With
everything else going on, they didn't need him going ballistic as
well.  Turning back to her 'source', she asked, "What happened?"

"Janette contacted Nick in England.  Apparently, the Enforcers broke
the agreement and attacked him and the others.  Everyone's okay.
Dubois went off the deep end again and took out two Enforcers.  Xena
killed four others.  And Petersen claimed the last one," Vachon
recounted.  

"Is there any other news?" Schanke insisted.

"According to Janette, everyone is just a little shaken up.  I gotta
tell you, Trace.  This looks bad.  As per the rules of the agreement,
nobody was supposed to touch Dubois until the duel," he noted.  

"Yeah, unless Dijon decided to cheat," she disagreed.  

The former conquistador shook his head, "No.  Even that weasel has a
code of honor.  Those Enforcers were doing so under another authority.
There are rumors circulating around the Community about a group of
renegade vampires who have been stirring up trouble.  Word has it that
they might be behind both of the Enforcers' attacks and Alti's
appearance on campus.  I wouldn't put it past them to instigate
another provocation."

"And could they attack again?" the souvlaki-loving detective wondered.

"Of course they could," the Spaniard cracked.  "But why would they
strike here?  If they did so, the Community would be truly up in arms.
Besides, would you want to mess with LaCroix?"

Schanke's eyes bulged and he gulped nervously, "Nope."

"My point exactly," the immortal stated.  "Well, back to my last
patrol.  Just thought you'd like the update."

"And how is everything around town?" she probed.

"Really quiet.  But then, when LaCroix makes it clear that he wants no
funny business, there won't be any, comprende?" Vachon revealed.  

Both detectives nodded.  

"Muy bien," the Spaniard smiled.  "By the way, this stays between us
three.  Understand, Schanke?"

"Right," the mortal detective concurred.

With a glimmer in his eye, the vampire took off into the night sky.
He had a great deal of ground to cover and the night was waning.

In his wake, the two detectives sat quietly wondering about their
friends and the events of the previous evening.  For a full fifteen
minutes, their minds swam with the knowledge of the attacks and the
reality that there was nothing that they could do about them.
Finally, seeing that they needed to get back before the shift change,
Schanke started the car and drove them back toward the precinct.
Nobody would get any sleep on that particular day.






Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 13 [O' Connell Manor]

For most of the morning, the staff toiled to sweep up the acrid
remains of the previous night's invaders and repair the damage from
the fighting.  Much of the antique and medieval woodwork had been
splintered, requiring a great deal of reconstruction work.  Some
things would never be replaced, while others would only exist now
either in reproductions or in the memories of the house's visitors.

To Alex, fighting in the house was not a new thing.  Indeed, he
remembered how the initial brawl over the bracelet had damaged much of
the downstairs area not to mention the master bedroom, the adjoining
bath and several Tiffany windows.  While all had been quiet over the
past six decades, it seemed that the battle craze had returned to
haunt his family anew.  "Mum, Dads, this all seems like déjà vu," he
muttered to the empty sitting room.

"I'm sure it was," Dave agreed, descending the stairs in his sweats
and a bathrobe.  "Good morning."

"And good morning to you too.  I see you've collected your wits once
again.  You had the good brother and me scared senseless last night,
you know," the elderly man informed him.

The medievalist scratched his head as he tried to pick memories from
the red haze surrounding them.  "As usual, I don't remember anything
past getting jumped by somebody and being pushed to the floor.  After
that, my next memory was lying next to Angie in bed this morning," he
explained.

"Are you sure, David?" the other pushed.

"Oh yes, I'm positive.  I guess my other self came out, didn't it?
But then, this isn't the first time you've seen it," the younger
professor assumed.

The old man nodded, "I remember your 'other self' quite well from my
childhood, David.  You scared my uncle half to death, and I wasn't
that far behind."

Dave shrugged, "Alti's presence had a lot to do with that.  Besides,
your uncle challenged him from what he told me.  I do remember most of
the fighting with the mummies later.  Still, this is something I'm
dealing with on a daily basis, Alex.  Having those SOBs on my tail
isn't helping matters any."

"No, I suppose it isn't," Alex guessed.  "So, what do you all do now?"

"We leave for France tonight.  Angie, Steve, and I agreed on that much
last night apparently," the medieval history professor explained.  "I
want to be in Rouen as soon as possible."

"But, you will need to take the shuttle and it stops running after a
given point," the archaeologist argued.  "At least stay another
night."

"And risk another attack?  I want to confront Dijon as soon as
possible," the other countered.  "For Angie's sake as well as everyone
else's, I want this mess behind us.  Besides, I have alternate
transportation arranged."

As if on cue, the mists formed in the corner and from them, Deirdre
stepped into view.  "Hi, Papa, Great-Grandpa.  Everything's set."

Alex stared at the woman who had just entered the room.  "Great-
Grandpa?" he asked.  "Who?"

The young priestess rolled her eyes and patiently declared, "I'm
Deirdre.  Trust me, I've done some growing since the last time you saw
me."

The old archaeologist scanned his great-granddaughter with concern.
"The last time I saw you, you were six years old.  So how?" he
demanded.

"Ancient Celtic secrets, Grandpa Alex," Angie mentioned while
descending the stairs to join them.  "Good morning, everyone."

"I see the fighting got really intense here last night," Deirdre
noted.  "Was anyone hurt?"

"Not really, unless you count the Enforcers," her father replied.
"How are Eve, Karen, and your Aunt Cybelle?"

"Eve and Aunt Karen are waiting to get back here.  As for Aunt
Cybelle, she's healing quickly and should be back on her feet in two
more days," his daughter stated.

"In time for the duel, I hope," Dave wished.

"If it's going to happen in Rouen, then she won't be there in time,"
Angie interjected.

"It's not going to happen there," the medievalist countered.  

"But wasn't that where you two were supposed to meet?" she inquired in
confusion.

"Oh, we'll meet there all right," Dave affirmed.  "But, we'll have two
other stops to make before the true battle takes place.  I'll show you
if there's a map of France available."

Alex guided them over to the far bookshelf and pulled a French atlas
from the shelf.  "Will this do?"

"It's fine.  Thank you," the younger professor accepted, opening it to
the map of France.  "Okay, we'll be making two trips into France.
First, we'll head to Rouen.  Then, we go to Orleans. There, we'll find
out where the battle will take place."

"If you say so," his wife agreed skeptically. "But why all of the
stops?"

"Because of the information in each place.  Rouen is first because of
the set meeting point.  Orleans is second due to the scholarly
archives there.  From there, we'll just have to wait and see," Dave
detailed.  "I need every piece of information on this dirt bag to beat
him and for some motivation in the process.  Now, rest up everyone.
We leave at sunset."

***

 Meantime, Nick was lying on the bed, wondering what was going to
happen next.  By the Elders' decree, the Enforcers should have stayed
clear of them.  Yet, the attack occurred.  He imagined that LaCroix
would have been most displeased when the news reached his ears.
Retaliation would be swift once the guilty parties had been ferreted
out.  On the progress of their company, the former Crusader knew that
they would be leaving soon.  Sometime either that night or the next,
he imagined that Dave and Xena would be walking with him toward the
medieval section of town.  Remembering Dijon's challenge, he imagined
that was where the head Enforcer would be waiting for them.

A knock came from the door, stirring him from his reverie.  "Yes?"
Using his senses, he discerned that it was Alyce.  "Come in, Alyce.
It's okay," he told her.

The door creaked open, allowing the curator to enter.  She still
looked a little shaken from their encounter with Fibrano, but
otherwise, was none the worse for wear.  "Thanks, Nick.  I was hoping
that you were okay."

"I'm fine," he assured her.  "But you took a real chance.  Remember,
you're still a fledgling.  Fibrano was an Enforcer who would've staked
you without a second thought."

"And I was supposed to let him kill Natalie?" she supposed.  "Look,
Nick, I may have been angry with her when it came to you, but she's
still a good person.  You can't tell me that you would've let her
die."

"No, I wouldn't have.  But, I might have stood a better chance of
holding Fibrano off for an extra minute or two until both of you could
escape.  Fortunately, Steve made sure that wouldn't happen," he
countered.  "I just don't want anything to happen to you, Alyce."

"Nick, you aren't a knight anymore.  Trust me, we females can defend
ourselves.  Just ask Janette when we get back," she argued.
"Meanwhile, will you trust me?  I do want your advice and I'm sorry I
jumped in rashly.  I promise to be more careful.  Now, will you please
relax?"

"I wish I could, Alyce.  I wish I could," he sighed, looking up at the
ceiling.

For her part, the curator spent much of the day with him, trying to
make him feel better and wondering about their future in light of the
developing circumstances surrounding them.



Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 14 [Rouen]

Night had descended upon the ancient Norman capital on the Seine.
Although the metropolis thrived as a modern regional center, the
city's historical past continued to draw many visitors every year for
numerous purposes.  Battles had been fought over this hamlet and great
events had occurred there.  At every turn of the area's history, Rouen
had been a key part of the process.

***

The historic district lay quiet as everyone seemed to stay at home for
some reason.  In an alleyway, the familiar fog patch opened, allowing
Nick, Dave, Angie, and Deirdre to walk into the city unnoticed.

"Okay," Dave smiled, taking a deep whiff of air.  "We're here.
Deirdre, can you disguise yourself like your aunt can?"

"Sure, Papa," she agreed, waving her hands.  In an eyeblink, her robes
had been exchanged for tourist garb.  "How's this?"

"Perfect," he agreed.  "Okay, Nick.  Which way?"

"Follow me," the former knight indicated, leading them out of the
alley.  

For an hour, the foursome walked through the maze of streets, admiring
the historic architecture, and trying to keep focused on what they
were there to do.  Around them, the building style became more and
more remotely tied to the past.  Finally, in one of the oldest parts
of the city, the style was firmly Norman.

"So where's the marketplace?" Angie wondered.

"Just ahead of us," Nick mentioned.  They crossed a street and found a
church in a relatively modern style standing in front of them.  

"Her church, right?" Dave acknowledged

"Yes," the vampire detective agreed.  "And see where the chained area
is?  That was the spot."

A slight ripple passed through the medievalist's consciousness.  "So
is this it?"

"Almost," Nick replied.  "Patience, Dave.  We're almost there."

At that moment, the professor felt something else.  "Yes, and he's
close by," he informed the others.

His companions also scanned the area.  Noticeably close, they felt one
particular empty spot.

"If it's Dijon, I'd best get ready," Angie muttered, ducking behind
the corner of the nearest building.  Pulling the sword, she changed
into the Warrior Princess and rejoined her friends.

"Okay, David," Xena stated, pulling on the trenchcoat which Angie had
left behind for her.  "So, when's he going to show up?"

In the darkness ahead, Dave noted a large man walking toward them.
"Dijon, stop right there!"

"Greetings, Dubois.  Es une belle soir, no?" the medieval Enforcer
baited.  

"Other than the sudden stench, I'd say it's an enchanting evening,"
Dave taunted.  

The Burgundian vampire snarled briefly before continuing, "I see you
brought allies.  Hello, Brabant.  And Xena, you can take off the coat.
It's much too warm for that thing."

The Thracian warrior stripped off the disguise, remarking, "Funny, I
thought it was just right."  Drawing her sword, she snarled, "I
suppose you were behind the ambush last night?"

Dijon sighed, "Believe it or not, that little party wasn't my idea.
Those fools were operating on their own.  I would never have attacked
you so clumsily."

"No, you just let Alti or your flunkies do your dirty work for you,
right?" Dave chuckled, placing a shaft in his bow and readying it.

"No, Dubois.  When the time comes, I'll deal with you myself.  But, I
must thank you for disposing of those ingrates for me.  You saved me a
great deal of trouble," Dijon explained, allowing a bit of impatience
to seep into his voice.  

"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, scum," the
professor snarled, allowing his dark side to surface just a bit.
"Remember the last time we tangled?  The next time, I'll be looking to
finish the job."

Xena and Nick glanced anxiously at each other.  How much farther could
this spitting match go without a fight breaking out?

Sensing the others' anticipation, the vampire hunter assured them, "It
is not yet time for that match to occur.  As I said before, it is a
beautiful night.  Enjoy it.  Have a glass of wine or a fine meal and
treasure the time you have left.  We'll meet soon enough."

"So, where is this battle to take place if not here?" Nick demanded.

"In a familiar place to you, Crusader," the Enforcer scoffed.  "A
great distance to the east where you and your rabble sent me into
exile-to fight and to die at the hands of the Turk."

Nick shook his head, debating, "You forced yourself into exile with
your own barbarity, Dijon.  Even as a mortal, you were the most
despicable of knights and a threat to those around you, be they
English, French, or even your fellow Burgundians."

Dijon shook his head fiercely, promising, "Once I am done with him,
Brabant, you will be the next on my list.  I don't care what LaCroix
has to say on the matter!  I'll stake him as well!"  Looking up to the
night sky, he concluded, "Take care, mes ami.  We'll do business soon
enough!"  With that, he disappeared in a flash, leaving no trace of
himself behind.

"Well, that was special," Dave snarled.  "All of his bantering for
nothing."

"We did get a clue, David," Xena reminded him.  "If Nicholas can tell
us where to go."

Nick detailed, "Dijon was sent into exile by his own father in 1443.
From what I heard, he was sent to Rome and then, to the east."

Dave realized, "Nick, did he fight at Varna?"

"He was in the Crusading army from what I remember," the former knight
recalled.  "So, that's where he fought.  But where did he die?  Nobody
knows for sure."

"One thing's clear," the Warrior Princess surmised.  "We're heading
for this Varna, wherever that is."

"It's close to your neck of the woods," Dave informed her.  "On the
Bulgarian Black Sea coast near Greece.  As for the information on
Dijon, I remember hearing that there was documentation being held at
Alyce's former stomping grounds in Orleans. But, I wonder why his
papers aren't being kept in Dijon in the ducal archives?"

"Perhaps, when his father cast him out, all traces and records were
discarded as well.  I would think that the French government picked
them up,"  Nick guessed.  

"And because he was a big player in Jeanne d'Arc's fate, the papers
were moved to her Centre at that Universite.  Interesting and ironic. 
So, do you think Alyce can get us in there?" the professor asked.

"She's still very well thought of there.  I'm sure she can help you,"
his immortal colleague assured.   Noticing the sky starting to turn
faintly pink, he advised, "Umm, can we get back before I roast?"

"Relax," Deirdre soothed, opening up the portal.  "All aboard."  Xena
and Nick hurried into it.  

Dave took one last glance across the street.  For a split second, he
thought he saw a white light flash reflecting off of the metal plaque.

"Papa?" the priestess inquired.  "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" he asked, coming out of his reverie.  "Yes, let's go."  With
one last glance, he stepped into the fog.

Deirdre studied the scene for a long minute.  It was a church and some
sort of site unknown to her.  "But it is having an effect on Papa,"
she reminded herself.  "If it's important to him, it's important to me
too."  With that, she jumped into the mists, allowing them to
dissipate behind her on the morning breeze.
Step Into My Nightmare
David J. Duncan
December 2001
For notes & such, please see Part 1

Chapter 15  [O' Connell Manor]

Brother Tony sipped on his cocoa methodically.  For the entire
evening, his attention had been wrapped around the scriptures in his
well-worn Bible.  Ever since he heard that David, Nicholas, and Angela
had gone to Rouen in search of the vampire Enforcer, Bertrand du
Dijon, the minister had prayed fervently for their return.

Eve approached him carefully.  For hours, she had tried to meditate,
but something told her to talk with her colleague.  Accordingly, she
inquired, "Excuse me, Brother Tony?  Is there something I can do?"

He snapped to attention, replying, "Oh, Eve!  I'm sorry!  Could you
repeat your question?"

"I was wondering if I could do something for you," she repeated
herself.

"Not unless you could kill that demon, not to mention that dark thing
inside of David," he noted.  "I'm worried for them.  Going in search
of that vampire after the events of last night.  It's insane!"

"I trust in both David and my mother to take care of themselves," the
former Messenger assured him.  "Besides, he needs this journey for his
inner self in any event."

The minister nodded, "I'm sure you're right.  When he and Angela were
married, I was so sure he was a good person.  Now, I don't know....."

She glared at him, "Brother, please!  I know we're under a lot of
stress, but don't judge him like that!  He is a good person, a
wonderful teacher, a loyal husband, and a loving father.  Is it his
fault he was mistreated growing up?"

The elderly man sighed contritely, "My apologies, Eve.  You are
correct of course.  I remember what he said to me about Stuart and
Sarah.  I can't believe she would treat him like that.  She seems like
such a nice person."

"Since I've never met her, I can't say," she continued.  "But
apparently, she was going through her own problems and had a hard
enough time dealing with them, never mind David's as well.  She shut
him out except to chastise him.  Pain, Brother, breeds pain.  After
this is over, we need to work on him in that regard."

He beamed at her words.  "Eli's words truly made their mark on you,
Eve.  While