Warning: dreadfully sad, sentimental story ahead. It could be classified as a "Forever Not," but that isn't where it started.

Timeline: present day scenes fall just after "Outside the Lines." The quotes throughout are from Edna St. Vincent Millay's sonnet "Fatal Interview," part XLVII.

Thanks and affection to my beta-readers Lillian, Dianne and Diane - they smacked my hand in all the right places; if this is worth reading it's due to their wise comments.

Well, I have lost you; and I lost you fairly;
In my own way, and with my full consent.
Say what you will, kings in a tumbrel rarely
Went to their deaths more proud than this one went.

Natalie sat on the edge of her bathtub, her hands clenched. She'd been sitting there for quite a while. In fact, she was going to be late for work if she didn't get her act together.

Work? How could she work?

The tile was cold under her bare feet, and she held onto that sensation. It was real, it was tangible. In a world where everything-- everything-- was about to change, something tangible was all she could ask for.

"Natalie?"

"Eric?"

They looked at each other in amazement across the department store aisle, then grinned and ran to one another, hugging tightly. Natalie drew back and smiled at him warmly. "I can't believe I ran into you!"

"Natalie Lambert. God, it's good to see you." Eric's brown eyes were full of affection. "You look wonderful. What brings you to town?"

"I'm just visiting Dad." Natalie paused, and her face grew serious. "Oh, Eric. I'm so sorry about Jen. My dad just told me."

He passed one hand over his forehead, and Natalie realized how drawn and tired his face was. She hadn't seen it at first. "Thanks," he said, his voice rough.

An over-perfumed woman bumped into them, and both Natalie and Eric started guiltily. "I guess we're in the way," said Natalie, still looking at Eric's face. She'd known him since they were children and had never seen him with this desolate, lost look in his eyes. "Do you have time for a cup of coffee?"

"With you? Of course I do."

Natalie tucked her hand through his arm and they made their way through the crowds in search of a quiet corner and a decent cup of caffeine.

"Grace? It's Nat. I know, I'm late... I'm fine. Just got caught up in a few things and forgot the time... Yeah, I'll see you soon."

She hung up the telephone carefully. She had to get dressed, get her papers together-- she'd brought home the Kirwan autopsy report; she needed to feed Sidney...

When she looked back down at her hand, still resting on the telephone, she realized that several minutes had passed.

Oh, God. How could she have let this happen?

What was she going to <do>?

"If you can't talk about this..."

"No. No one here wants to talk about her. Now that she's... dead, they keep telling me I have to move on." There were tears in Eric's eyes, and Natalie reached out to cover one of his hands with hers. "But I want to talk about her. And... you knew her, too. That helps."

"She was a wonderful person," said Natalie gently. "Do you remember that car she drove? The yellow one?"

He joined her in laughter, and they reminisced about old times and old friends. "Oh, Eric." Natalie pulled a tissue out of her purse. "It just isn't fair."

"No. No, it isn't."

They sat quietly, remembering those who were gone.

Shaking off the memories, she strode into her bedroom. The blue dress-- it was comfortable and best of all, it didn't need ironing. Tossing her bathrobe on the bed-- on top of a disgruntled Sidney, who yowled in protest-- she dressed quickly.

There was no question what she was going to do. Not really, and there hadn't been since the moment she found out.

Clasping pearls around her neck as she walked into the dining room, she looked around for her planner. It was hidden under the Kirwan file; she grabbed it and ruffled through the pages until she found the address pages, and the number she was looking for.

"Doctor Morton, please... Yes, I'll hold." She sat, drumming her fingers impatiently as she waited. An orchestrated version of "Yesterday" played tinnily through the phone. "God, I hate Muzak," she muttered, and was immediately relieved that she could think of something, anything else besides what was happening to her.

Finally, he picked up. "Jim? It's Natalie Lambert... Yes, I'm fine. How are you? How's Donna?" She laughed. "That's wonderful-- congratulations... A grandfather! I can't believe it." Pausing, she twisted the phone cord in her fingers. "Jim, about the conversation we had last month... Is that job offer still open?"

They'd been talking all afternoon, and the sun was starting to drop in the sky. A while earlier, they'd moved from the coffee shop to a restaurant down the street, where they could continue their conversation over wine and
dinner.

"She liked you-- but she was always a little jealous of you."

"Jen didn't have a thing to worry about," said Natalie firmly. "You adored her."

"I did. I do. But you were my first love, Natty."

Natalie giggled at the old nickname. "I haven't been called that in years!" She took a sip of water, reflectively. "What a summer that was." They smiled at one another, lost in the memories of their time together over a decade ago. They were each other's first loves, and first lovers... It all seemed so long ago and still so fresh at the same time. "But Jen moved to town-- and I knew when I was beat."

"Hey! You went off to college!" he protested. "I was stuck here, all alone."

"Poooooor Eric," laughed Natalie. They'd worked this all out years before, when Natalie had seen how he looked at Jen.

She knew true love when she saw it, after all.

Natalie closed the door behind the movers with a grateful sigh. Done at last. Who would have thought it would take so long to pack up a one-bedroom apartment? She'd hoped to be done and out by sunset-- she was running a little late, but she should still be out in plenty of time.

Before Nick found out.

It was amazing how quickly you could close a chapter of your life. Quitting with no notice was certainly one of the worst things she'd ever done professionally, but she'd cited pressing family reasons and with her history of good performance, no one had questioned her too seriously-- except Grace, who'd known something was wrong. Natalie had sworn that when she was settled, she'd call and explain everything.

She'd visit with her father before she did anything else. She had to tell him. Just what she was going to tell him she still didn't know-- she'd think of something.

Then to Eric, who had the right to know everything and to make his own decisions. After that, west to her new job. To her new life.

Guiltily, she bent and patted the top of the cat carrier. Sidney glared at her balefully from inside. "Don't worry, cat of mine. We're almost out of here. You can stop giving me the look of death pretty soon."

Scanning the room, she mentally ticked off what needed to be done. Mr. Farnsworth next door wanted the ficus; she just had to knock on his door and his nephew would come pick it up. She had to take the last stray bag of garbage to the dumpster.

She had to post the box for Nick.

Natalie walked across the empty room and laid her hand on the box sitting on the mantel. Inside was a letter that said everything she didn't have the courage to say to his face. Inside was all the research data-- the logs, the notes, the results. Detailed documentation of four years of research that had only been able to give him a single day in the sun.

Fighting a sudden wave of nausea, she grabbed onto the mantel with both hands and leaned her forehead against the box, counting to ten. She wasn't going to throw up. She had to get out of here. Drawing a deep breath, she pushed off the mantel and turned around--

And came face to face with Nick.

Some nights of apprehension and lost weeping
I will confess; but that's permitted me;
Day dried my eyes; I was not one for keeping
Rubbed in a cage a wing that would be free.

"And what about you, Doctor Lambert? Why aren't you married off?"

It was a question that Natalie had been dreading all week. She'd spent the last four evenings with Eric-- her father encouraged it. He probably hoped the old flame would rekindle, and that his daughter would move home and have lots of kids. One grandchild wasn't nearly enough.

Her father couldn't understand that there were ghosts between them that could never be erased-- even if they had wanted to.

She absently ran a finger around the rim of her wine glass, thinking of Nick. Nick wasn't someone she could easily explain, even to Eric who'd known her for so many years, and so well.

"Hey." He tapped her wine glass with his. "I didn't mean to ask you a tough question."

"You didn't." Natalie smiled and tucked one leg up under her on the sofa. "Well, actually you did. I've been... involved with someone for several years now."

"Involved?" Eric tilted his head quizzically. "Which means... Dating exclusively? About to be engaged? Just having great casual sex?"

"Eric!" She smacked him, hard, and he cowered theatrically. "You know me better than that," she said, laughing. "It doesn't fit under any of those categories, unfortunately. It's really complicated."

Wisely, Eric didn't ask her to explain what complicated meant. "Where's the relationship going, Natty? Anywhere good?"

It was an unexpected question from Eric, but one that Natalie had asked herself a thousand times. Suddenly her hands were shaking too hard to hold onto the glass, and she leaned over and put it on the coffee table - which she could hardly see for the tears in her eyes. Eric leaned towards her, concerned.

"I don't know," Natalie said simply, her voice choked. "I always thought that when you found the one person you loved more than anything else in the world that it was supposed to work out." She bit her bottom lip, holding back the tears. "I believed in happy ever after-- no one ever told me that maybe you'd find your happy ever after... and you can't have it."

Natalie had to wipe at her eyes. "Oh, Eric, I'm so sorry. Why I'm the one that's getting upset, when you've lost Jen..."

"Shh." Leaning forward, he put his arms around her and hugged her close. Natalie leaned her cheek on his chest and took a deep breath. She wouldn't cry. Eric had lost his wife; he'd watched her die. Her hopeless relationship with Nick couldn't possibly compare to the loss he must feel.

Suddenly, she realized that Eric was crying. Pulling away from him, Natalie gently wiped off his tears, her hand resting on his face. Their eyes met and for a moment, they were 18 years old again, lying under a canopy of Indian summer leaves...

And then they were kissing, fiercely, Natalie tasting the salt from his tears. She felt a moment of surprised recognition-- so that's what it's like, she'd almost forgotten-- before losing herself completely in him.

In his warm, familiar touch Natalie found comfort; a comfort she returned. Though it wasn't that startling, passionate first touch of their youth, it was still exciting. Though both of them knew that there were other faces
involved, other loves driving their longing, it was what both of them needed. To remind themselves.

Natalie stared at Nick in shock. He knew-- his eyes were smoldering with anger, and she could tell just by looking at his body that he was barely holding back his rage.

Oh, God. Oh God oh God oh God. Please, someone, give her the strength to do this; to convince Nick that it was over. The fact would devastate him far more than the fiction.

"You were just going to leave? Without saying anything?" The anger in his voice could have cut stone, but she stopped herself from wincing.

"So-- how does it feel, finding out from some random city employee?" she asked, flippantly, unable to look him in the eye. "Should I tell you that it's been easier that way in the past?"

Nick cut her off, grabbing her arms roughly, shaking her. "What's going on, Natalie? Look at me, damn it! How could you just leave?"

She pulled free of his grasp angrily. "Let me go!" There it was, the anger that would help her get through this. It was down deep where she'd buried it-- and now it would keep her from falling into his arms and telling him how she loved him more than anything in the world.

Except for the child she was carrying.

Natalie lowered her face for a moment. When she looked back up at Nick, the fury in her eyes made him take an involuntary step back. "How could I leave? Do you really want the answer to that question, Nick? Because I warn you-- you aren't going to like it."

Nick drew a deep breath. "Yes. I need to know."

"I'm leaving because for four years, I was in love with a man-- no, a vampire-- who barely gave me the time of day. Or should I say of night?" Oh, she was on a roll now. "I'm 33 years old. I spend Saturday nights at work, or alone-- or occasionally with my friendly neighborhood vampire, when he deigns to fit me into his schedule. Won't <that> look great in my reunion yearbook?" She shook her head. "No more, Nick. No more."

"I never asked you..."

"Don't give me that 'you never asked me' crap." Turning, Natalie picked up the box from the mantel, holding it out to him. "Here. It's everything." When Nick just stared at her silently, she pushed the box into his hands. "Take it. All the test results, all the data. I don't want my leaving to make you give up, but I can't be your bloody standard-bearer any more. It's tiring being some kind of icon for mortality."

Nick looked down at the box in his hands, then at Natalie. The anger was gone, replaced by so much pain that Natalie wanted to weep. "Oh, Natalie. Don't. Please don't do this."

"I've got to get out of here-- I can't be your paragon any more. Silly little mortal Nat-- she'll never know that Nick's off sucking on Janette's neck. She'll never remember what was said and done to her one Valentines' Day." This litany, at least, was real, though he couldn't know that she'd forgiven him long ago for the wrongs she was recalling. "I can try to leave town without telling her. I can kill myself, and she'll forgive me. I can believe in every stupid hokey magic trick that comes along-- Nat won't care; she'll just go on believing whatever I tell her." The nausea threatened again and she dug her nails into her palm. "Good old Nat."

"Natalie, you're wrong." Nick put one hand on her shoulder and for half a second she reveled in his touch. "I make mistakes all the time - but you have to know how much I care about you."

"See? There you go again. Don't use the 'L' word, Nick. It might hurt you. You might burn to a crisp or something." Her tone was bitter, and Nick flinched visibly.

"Natalie." He tried to touch her cheek, but she jerked her head away. "I do love you. I love you so much." Frustrated, he turned away and ran a hand through his hair, fighting for the right words. "It's just-- how could
I ask you to wait for something that might never happen?"

"You didn't. I was fool enough to think I should. This is as much my fault as yours, Nick, and it's got to stop." Her words hung in the air, echoing around the empty apartment. "I'm going to build a life somewhere else, and find whatever happiness I can in the real world. In the mortal world, Nick."

"So you're leaving Toronto." Nick was still turned away from her. His voice was flat. Dead.

Though she knew it was the only way, her heart twisted. "Yes. I need to leave. To start over." With an offhand manner that cost her dearly, she walked around Nick and faced him, looking at him levelly. "You better than
anyone should understand why I'm leaving, Nick. How many times have you started over? Well, now it's my turn."

Nick looked into her eyes-- so certain, so clear-- and turned and walked out of the apartment silently, his shoulders bent as if carrying an insurmountable burden. It took every bit of strength Natalie had left to not run after him; to beg him to stay and help her through this. To ask him to hold her and tell her how much he loved her. To tell him that he was her heart and her soul.

But she didn't. Natalie held back her tears until she knew Nick would be long gone-- he couldn't hear her crying. Nick had to believe the words she'd spoken. He had to think she truly didn't love him any longer.

He had to be free to go on with his life-- whatever that might be.

She had to be free to raise her baby. In safety, away from the shadows. She'd lost her heart by dancing on the edge of danger-- but she wouldn't risk the innocent life of her child.

If I had loved you less or played you slyly
I might have held you for a summer more,
But at the cost of words I value highly,
And no such summer as the one before.

Victoria, British Columbia
Six years later

Natalie walked along the sidewalk, her daughter's hand firmly in hers. The late summer sun had just set, and she didn't want Anna-- impulsive, friendly child that she was-- to go running off into the crowds that lingered as the
summer day ended.

Responding to Anna's chatter with occasional comments, Natalie looked down on the bright face with her usual mixture of pride and love. Anna was the very best of her and Eric, and the joy of both their lives. They'd talked about it once or twice-- neither could imagine what their worlds would be like without her. Anna wasn't a "mistake." She was a miracle.

Leaving Toronto had been the hardest thing that Natalie had ever done. Even now, when her daughter demanded most of her time and energy, Nick was still a constant presence in her heart. He'd disappeared not long after she left; what was there to keep him, after all? She was gone; Schanke was dead. Perhaps he'd gone to find Janette.

Natalie didn't know, and couldn't let herself care. She had different priorities now, and had done what she had to do. She'd made a life in Victoria with Anna as the center. Eric had followed them here. He was a loving, active father and Natalie knew how very lucky they were to have him involved.

Neither Nat or Eric had married-- reality couldn't compete with the memories that they held close. But their strong friendship, and the love they shared for their daughter, gave depth and meaning to their lives.

If it wasn't quite what they could have had, or what they wanted, neither ever acknowledged it.

"Daddy!"

Nat smiled and waved as Anna broke free and went racing toward Eric, a blur of curly hair and brightly colored clothing. Eric scooped her up in his arms and she shrieked as he swung her around. "Hello, pumpkin!"

Nat caught up with them and watched as Eric hoisted his daughter up onto his shoulders. "Hi there."

"Hey, Natty. I'm sorry we had to meet so late-- what a day." Eric brushed Anna's skirt off his head, and she giggled.

"I know the feeling."

Anna looked down on them impatiently, her brown eyes just like her father's. "I'm hungry," she announced imperiously. "I want a hot dog."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "She's going to be a cheap date someday," she said, laughingly tickling Anna's leg.

Holding onto Anna with one hand, Eric slung his other arm over Natalie's shoulders. "Not if I have anything to do with it," he said, only half-joking. "Okay, pumpkin. Let's go get something to eat-- Daddy's starving, too. Maybe we can get something a little nicer than a hot dog."

As they set off towards a nearby restaurant, a funny feeling whispered up Natalie's back and she shrugged off Eric's arm, pausing to look over her shoulder.

Nothing there.

"Mommy!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming." Running back to them, she caught Eric's hand, and they went into the warm light of the restaurant.

The blonde man watching from the shadows took one faltering step after them, his haunted eyes never leaving Natalie. For one moment, he stretched out a trembling hand towards her.

Then he vanished, almost as if he had never been there.

Should I outlive this anguish - and men do -
I shall have only good to say of you.

The End

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