Subj: Conversion Day Challenge: Buried Secrets (01/01) Date: 08/24/00 To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Just a little vignette, because I've always wondered how it would have played out that first day when .... well, you'll see. Buried Secrets Kathy Yello96@aol.com -------------------------------------------------------------------- "Nichola! I'm speaking to you." Nick glanced up, meeting Janette's irritated glare with a bemused expression. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" She huffed impatiently. "I , that ghastly Herbert character was telling me ... oh, never mind," she surrendered as she noticed his attention slide back to the documents on the desk before him. "What could you possibly find so fascinating in those ... ?" she asked, using the final word as if it were an expletive. Nick looked up again, this time with a spark of animation in his eye. "It's an archeological digest. It --" "Oh. Spare me the tedious details," she exclaimed airily, waving her hand as if to brush the matter aside. She regarded him critically for a moment, then draped herself across the corner of his desk, one leg swinging free. Giving him a long-lashed look, she purred, "Nichola, the city outdoors awaits. Why don't you leave your studies for just a short time, and you and I --" "Janette!" he cut her off with exasperation, standing quickly and leaning forward to rescue the pages that she'd displaced as she shifted her leg on the table top. He snagged the papers from the edge before they could slip off -- the fireplace was much too likely a destination for an errant page. "Mind what you're doing. The fire ...." "Fine," she snapped, rising to her feet. "Stay in here and rot, for all I care." Turning on her heel, she stalked toward the doorway. As she stepped through the door, she glanced back over her shoulder with a small sniff. "Maybe LaCroix should --" "Maybe LaCroix should what, my dear?" LaCroix's voice came from immediately in front of her. Janette halted in her tracks, just barely avoiding colliding with him. "I'm surprised to find you two still in the house on such a beautiful night," LaCroix continued after a moment, his voice low as he smiled and ran an appreciative hand along the fabric of her sleeve. She returned the smile. "I'm just leaving now. Alone," she added pointedly, casting a disapproving glance back towards Nick. "Nichola is mired in his latest hobby. Those papers were delivered today, and he hasn't lifted his head from them since." LaCroix's smile grew wry. "Yes, he does appear preoccupied. Well, you go. Perhaps Nicholas will join you later. I might even be tempted, myself." He stepped aside, allowing her passage, lifting an eyebrow as her muttered remarks floated back to him before being cut off by the closing of the front door. He moved into the room, turning his attention to Nick, who had returned to his determined study of various official and academic looking documents. "Nicholas, you don't care to go out this evening?" he queried with a touch of amusement. Nick glanced up distractedly. "Yes. I mean, no, I don't. I'd rather finish this reading," he said, still gathering together the pieces Janette had disturbed. Then, with a small smile, he added, "That is, before Janette manages to dump the lot into the fireplace." "Indeed. She tells me you have something new to fire your enthusiasm," LaCroix commented casually as he strolled to the window. "Oh yes. It's Pompeii -- they've an amazing archeological dig there. They've discovered the remains of the city, buried under the ashes of the Vesuvius eruption. The detail of the preservation is incredible!" Nick looked towards LaCroix with excitement, brandishing the papers in his master's direction. LaCroix stood before the glass, motionless, looking out into the night sky. After a seemingly interminable pause, he murmured, "Really?" Nick was silent, surprised at the flatness of his master's tone. Usually, LaCroix paid more attention to discoveries of such historical things, especially those which centered around Roman culture and activities. Although LaCroix's frequent reaction to the announcements and theories of scholars was one of derision and amusement, the old devil nonetheless exhibited an interest in such pursuits. 'Idiots,' his master would say, snorting his contempt, but then he would avidly peruse the latest theses. Nick knew very little of LaCroix's Roman background, and he definitely knew better than to ask about it outright, but at times like these he'd often been able to glean a few, scant facts or even a brief story from his maker. Nick had found those discussions fascinating in the past, and he had hoped that LaCroix might be tempted again now, with this latest discovery. But he was puzzled by LaCroix's cool reaction. Perhaps this wasn't the first LaCroix had heard of this. LaCroix had a way of knowing things far in advance of the general public, let alone Nick himself. He tried again, this time rising from his chair and circling to the front of the desk. "Yes, it's quite remarkable. Look, here...," he began, rummaging through the papers scattered across the polished oak surface. LaCroix remained silent, eyes closed, head cocked slightly, as if distracted. When he spoke again, his tone was flat as before, but there was a slight edge to his voice. "Nicholas, enough." Still carried away with his own excitement, Nick located the sketch he sought. "You see?" he offered, pointing to the sketch and its attached articles. "Buildings, pottery, sculptures, even the evidence of human remains! They've already excavated several grids, and the finds are exceptional -- apartments, public houses, a brothel! And there's so much more yet to be done. I thought...," he paused, looking up and feeling a bit disappointed to find LaCroix apparently ignoring him. "I thought," he continued, "we should go down there. To be involved in something of this significance --" "No," LaCroix interjected quietly. Losing a beat at the unexpected refusal, Nick took a breath and stared at LaCroix. "I know your business here in town is not completed. I'll go on ahead. You could join me later -- and I know Janette would love to visit the Mediterranean again. It is just that this is such an important find ...." "Enough, I said!" LaCroix cut him off sharply, turning from the window to regard Nick with a baleful glare. "I have no patience with these ridiculous pursuits of yours. I have no intention of visiting that pathetic site, and neither will you. I'll hear no more about it." Nick froze where he stood, taken aback. But he wasn't yet willing to give up on the chance of participating in a project of such magnitude. Meeting LaCroix's eyes, he dropped the sheaf of papers back to the desktop. "It would only be for a few months -- the winter, perhaps. I'll rejoin you wherever you wish." Before he could blink, Nick found himself slammed back against the wall, LaCroix's fey glare pinning him as completely as the unforgiving grip on his throat. For a terribly long moment, it seemed LaCroix's hand would continue to tighten on his neck until the bones beneath shattered to dust. Nick labored in vain to speak, or even draw breath, and spots of grayish light danced across his field of vision. But just as suddenly, he was released; the abrupt withdrawal of force left Nick reeling and weak in the knees. He struggled to remain standing as he sucked in a blessed lungful of air. LaCroix stood over him in silence, then offered in a strangely dispassionate voice, "This is pointless. Dispose of those." He waved in the direction of the papers on the desk. "There's nothing to be learned from that so-called scientific excavation. That part of the past is dead -- as mortal as the fools who now scrabble in its dusty remains. We'll speak no more on this topic: you're quit of it." He straightened, tugging on his jacket to set it aright. "My business here does indeed require my immediate presence, but upon completion we shall leave for England. Be ready to depart within the week." He studied Nick for a moment longer, and then, without warning, was gone from the room. Making his way unsteadily to the desk, Nick paused, rubbing at his neck and watching the doorway through which LaCroix had just vanished. He leaned on the edge of the desk, trying to shake the unsettled feeling that facing an angry LaCroix always produced. This was damned odd. He knew he'd pushed the issue a bit, but LaCroix's harsh response had been completely unexpected. Was it even about the dig at all? Perhaps LaCroix was angry about something else. Perhaps LaCroix was aware of some of Nick's other lines of 'research....' Nick pushed the thought aside quickly -- no, LaCroix couldn't possibly have knowledge of that. No, more likely, some complicated business affairs were to blame, as LaCroix had implied. And knowing LaCroix, his dealings could involve anything from the sinister to the saintly. Nick took a deep breath, relieved to find that his throat was almost completely healed, and regarded the papers before him. Dispose of them, LaCroix had said. Well, that was hardly warranted, was it? After all, even if LaCroix thought it misguided, the expedition had some interesting aspects. Tucking the papers hurriedly into a valise, he set it out of the way, just inside the door to his room. LaCroix may want nothing to do with it, and may have forbidden Nick's involvement -- although he figured there were ways around that -- but LaCroix might change his mind in the future. It was worth the risk. Who knew what telling revelations would come out of those ashes? Pompeii was undoubtedly a treasure-trove of buried secrets. End. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Comments/questions/snide remarks to Yello96@aol.com