Sorry for the late post -- it's been one of those days ...

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There's No Place Like Home
by Cousin Tok
Location:  the streets of Toronto, between the NA shrine, CERK and the loft
Time:  early morning hours of Saturday, July 14th
After "The Head That Wears The Crown (Gets The Headaches)", part 6


Nick and Lacroix found themselves walking down the street together, away
from the NA shrine and the strangeness that had been the aborted coronation
ceremony.  Both could still feel the effects of their minds linking during
the confrontation with Qa'ra.  Neither was willing to speak of it, at present.

Finally, they both realized that each was avoiding a return to the faction
headquarters that belonged to the bodies they were inhabiting.  They paused
near a street corner.

"Your Knighties are truly warped and depraved individuals," Lacroix
informed his son.

"Like the Cousins are normal people," Nick retorted.  "You have a *dungeon*
... and they're proud of it!"

"It is quite a remarkable area," Lacroix said.  "It has taken some time and
effort to bring it to its present state.  Would you like to discuss the
sanity of *your* followers?"  He stalked around his own body with a very
Lacroixian glare on Nick's face.  "They put tabasco sauce in my blood.  And
I was forced to participate in a ridiculous game called *Twister*."

Nick could hardly suppress a laugh at the thought of Lacroix playing party
games.  "They were on to you, you know."

"I suppose you told them when you came to the loft.  I should have known
that went too smoothly."  Lacroix folded his arms across his chest and
continued to glare.

"Some of them were already suspicious," Nick replied, proud of his faction.

"And you, of course, confessed immediately and told my Cousins who you
really were."

Nick shrugged.  "Honesty is usually the best policy."

A ripple seemed to pass through the air surrounding the two vampires.  Both
of them staggered, Nick grabbing the lamppost to steady his -- well,
Lacroix's -- body.

The moment passed.  Nick shook his head to clear it.  A moment later, he
realized it *was* indeed his own head.  He was himself again!  Speckled
with pigeon-poop, but where he belonged.

Lacroix, at the same moment, was arriving at a similar conclusion.  He
released his grip on the lamppost and straightened, brushing dust and dirt
from his hand.  His clothing was still damp from the water juggling, and
the pigeon droppings did nothing to help.

They observed each other for a moment, nodding in recognition of the
restoration of what was right.  Without another word, Nick took off to
return to the loft and his Knighties.

Lacroix stood watching for a moment.  "Take care, Nicholas.  I doubt very
much this is over yet."  Then he flew off to CERK.



Cousin Tok
and the Cousinly kitties
tokaara@mindspring.com / AIM Tokaara / ICQ 46441308