Hi everyone.

Here is another chapter in my continuing saga of Nick's re-claiming his mortality.  It is an adult N&N tale, first of all, so if you are under 18 or are offended, please exit the ride to your left. Thank you.

Once again, it is humorous and human. It could stand alone, but if you have read "We WHAT???" and "Of Mortal Loving", this fits in between the two. Someone asked me, how do Schanke and Tracey find out N&N are an item? Well, folks, the explanation follows. I realize there are several
"Schanke finds out" tales out there, but trust me. You won't forget this one, it's unique. ;-)

I mention several sites around Toronto. They do exist.

Permission to archive at JADFE, Mortal Love, Mel's site and the fkfanfic page. All others, bribe me first.  As ever, I do not own these folks....etc. Just taking them on a field trip.

Don Schanke is alive and well, so are Tracey and Vachon and his crew.  If a mortal love offends, well, that's your cuppa blood ;-)

Comments, sarcasm, sexy welshmen, mournful voyeurs to pasvee@yahoo.com.

HARD EVIDENCE    by Mistress V

"So, training partner, where are we off to this evening?" Tracey asked as she slid into the front seat of the caddie. "Nick? Helllllllooooooo?  NICK!!!"

"Huh?" Nick snapped back to the present. He had been thinking of the hour before he and Natalie started work. It had been such a gorgeous night they had recklessly parked at Centennial Park and had christened the back seet of the caddie with their ardor. Twice. He grinned, remembering how much he'd wanted to put the top down, but Natalie had put her foot, er, hand, down on something very hard and he'd forgotten all about it.  Since that first accidental union a week ago, they'd been learning to make love with his taking only small amounts of her blood...and it was almost as though he didn't want it anymore. That the man was overcoming the beast at last. Perhaps Jeanette was right...

"And we're going?" Tracey continued. She'd heard from Schanke that Nick often visited the twilight zone, but was determined that she would keep on top of this annoying habit. One spaced cadet in her life was enough.

"Oh, yeah, we're headed over to take a statement in the Fitzsimmons case," he replied airily as he started the engine.

The early spring evening was warm and breezy, so much so that Tracey decide to abandon her heavy mohair jacket. She leaned over the back seat to throw the garment down and noticed something very, very unusual.

"Oh, Nick?" she asked, slowly bringing a shredded surgical scrub top into view. Nick gulped. They would not be going anywhere for a few minutes. He closed his eyes, remembering how he had ripped the garment open to take Natalie's breast into his mouth as she rode his throbbing cock. His member threatened to start hardening at the thought, but he pushed the memory away. No, he couldn't start acting like a twelve year old now.

"Is there something you want to..." her voice stopped. He looked over to find her staring at two stains of blood at the neck of the soft cotton. Two stains that perfectly matched the placement of his fangs.  Two stains that, once and for all, might blow his cover for good.

"Tracey. Listen to me!" he began, frantic inside, but outwardly preparing his best whammy. She stared right back at him.

"Don't you try that hypnosis crap on me, Nicholas B. Knight. I'm a resistor!" she told him smugly.

"Resistor? Where did you get that term?" Nick was beginning to panic.

"From my good friend, Javier. Maybe you know each other? I'd think..." she indicated the bloodstains, "that you do..." Her voice grew soft.  "Nick, are you a vampire?"

Nick put his head in his hands and sighed. The proverbial cat was out of the bag. Tracey couldn't possibly be trusted to keep this quiet.  Time to visit Aristotle. Let's see...how about LA? Too weird. Maybe Seattle?

"Nick, how are you and Natalie able to make love? I mean, without your harming her?" Tracey's voice continued, curious. She laid a hand on his arm. "Your secret is safe with me, Nick. I have a smiliar problem with another vampire."

Nick stared at her, amazed. They both began to laugh. "Vachon?" he asked between chuckles. Trcey blushed and pulled at the neck of her turtleneck sweater. Nick instantly recognized the passion mark for what it was...an attempt at mortal loving. He started up the caddie and they drove on. "I'll buy you a cup of coffee, Tracey," he said, "and we'll talk."

Later that same evening...

"You'll never guess what I found out, Javier..." Tracey smiled over at Vachon as he tuned his guitar absently.

"Nick is shagging that coroner girlfriend of his, maybe?" he grinned evilly. Tracey lunged at him but his vampire speed was no match. He had her in a tight embrace in a heartbeat.

"You are so...RUDE!" she gasped. Vachon laughed and kissed her. She was so cute when she was mad. "How did you know?" she persisted.

"Oh, we were flying home one night last week after a party and passed over Nick's loft," he drawled. "And there they were, under the skylight, in front of the fire. She was *riding* him like no tomorrow,
and he was definitely loving it. Going at it hammer and tongs, for the whole world to see." He grinned at the memory. "Scree noticed them first."

He would. "Don't you mean the voyeuristic vampire world?" Tracey replied, a little taken aback at his frankness.

He sighed. "Whatever. I wonder why she isn't dead yet from blood loss, though? What's his secret?" His hands moved suggestively down her hips.  They hadn't progressed past making out.

Tracey put her arms around him and smiled mysteriously. "Let me tell you something, querido," she began.

A few days later...

"Hi, Grace" Don Schanke greeted the assistant coroner. "I'll just pop down and get my partner, I know he's here somewhere."

"Detective Schanke, WAIT!!! Don't..." but he was already disappearing into the hallway that led to Natalie's office and the examining room.  Grace quickly hit a telephone button and waited two rings, then hung up.

"Hey Doc," he said to Natalie, "You seen Nick? He said he'd be here."

Natalie smoothed the front of her paper smock. "No, he hasn't been in," she began nervously. Schanke looked at her. "You ok, Doc? You look a little flushed."

"It's these lights," she replied, shifting her weight. "They get to me after awhile. Er...are you sure Nick said he would be here? I thought he wasn't due on for another hour or so..."

"Nope, he distinctly said he'd be at the morgue. Some follow-up on an earlier case from about 6 years ago. Those were his exact words."  Schanke stopped. "Natalie, you're barefoot! It can't be THAT hot in here?"

Natalie turned ever redder. "New shoes," she waved at the corner. "They gave me blisters, so I took them off."

Schanke followed her gaze. He stared in amazement, recognition slowly dawning. Nick's familiar leather jacket was thrown across Natalie's desk, along with a pair of jeans, some boxers, a blue shirt...and a pair of black lace underwear...and...he turned away.

"Ahem, well, yeah, I guess I misunderstood ol' Nicky boy. if you Do see him, well, Reese hasn't got in yet, he's doing some public service interview on the news, so he doesn't have to hurry over...er..." he moved towards the door, quickly, "see ya, Doc."

As his footsteps echoed down the hall, Natalie raced to the cooler. She opened the door and drew Nick into her embrace. He was shaking from the cold, a good sign that something mortal was taking place besides the usual indicator.

"I thought he'd NEVER go!" he whispered as Natalie threw aside her smock, covering his cool naked body with her equally naked hot one. They kissed hungrily. "Now, where were we? Weren't you about to put me in a body bag?" He kissed Natalie's breast.

"But you weren't naked that night," she protested weakly. Nick sniggered. "So we'll re-write history a bit. It happens all the time, right?" His lips moved to her stomach as he got to his knees. "And then
I'll sit up on your examining table and pull you onto my hard cock and have my way with you...like I should have that very first night..." he gasped. "But first, I'd better lick your pussy to make sure you're wet enough for all of me..." His tongue lapped at her frantically.

Natalie threw her head back and moaned happily. Not in a million years, she thought, would she have imagined this scene...

A few nights later...

"I tell ya," Don Schanke remarked to Tracey, "these rich folk don't know how to live! Look at this menu? No souvlaki! What's pasta al pistou, anyway?"

"Green spaghetti." Tracey had suggested they stop for dinner at an after-theatre bistro near Thomson Hall. They had just taken a statement from Mrs. Jonathan Harrington-Smythe, a wealthy socialite whose husband had disappeared. She had met them at the interval of the symphony performance, claiming it was urgent. She suspected foul play.

More like fowl play, Schanke thought. The guy had probably high-tailed it to Bermuda with some model rather than tell his wife the truth...he wanted out. Suddenly, he looked out the window of the cafe. He blinked once, twice. Nope, no dream. Tracey turned to follow his stare.

Nick and Natalie wandered down the street, arms entwined around each other, kissing now and then. Nick was dressed in a perfectly-tailored tuxedo, while Natalie had on a short, impossibly sexy evening dress. A black limo followed them at a discreet distance. Obviously, they'd just been to the symphony. Together.

"Would you look at that?" Schanke said softly. Two sets of eyes grew even wider as the lover's kiss grew more passionate. Schanke almost fell through the plate-glass window when he saw his partner pick Natalie up and wrap her legs around his waist. At that moment, the door of the limo was opened by the chauffeur, and they disappeared inside.

"Sheeeeeze!" Schanke said. He and Tracey looked at each other, stunned.

Tracey recovered first. "You know, I've been meaning to tell you something..." she began. But not everything.

The limo pulled away into the spring night. Nick could have sworn he heard Tracey's high-pitched squeal. "In the MORGUE????? You've GOT to be kidding!!!!

Naah. She was with Schanke back at the precinct, no doubt...

<fin>

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