by Jill Kirby

Nick couldn't tell where the moaning was coming from, but it had woken him from a dead sleep. He was stumbling out of Janette's office, rubbing his eyes, when he realized that most of his clothing was missing. In fact, he was wearing nothing but black silk pajama bottoms.

And they appeared to have a great deal of lipstick on them.

"Natalie?" he called, scanning the room. The Raven was dark, and last night's wreckage was everywhere - wrapping paper, empty Denny's containers, posters hanging askew. It looked like the site of a fraternity party. People were sleeping in various piles throughout the room - on the floor, on tables, and even on each other. Nick was pretty sure that it was Miklos curled up on one end of the bar, snoring like there was no tomorrow. And... was that Schanke leaning against a wall, sound asleep, surrounded by empty pizza boxes?

Finally, after inspecting five or six different groups of sleeping people, he spotted a body with chestnut hair poking out on top. "Nat?"

Looking a bit like Cousin It, Natalie peered out through a fringe of curls. Recognizing Nick, she waved weakly. "Hey, Nick. Nice PJs." With a look of deep concentration, Natalie sat up slowly, disentangling herself from another person who was still asleep. Each move required her full attention, and Nick finally leaned down and helped her up, just to speed up the process. "What time is it?"

"Midafternoon, I think," replied Nick, watching as Natalie rearranged her clothing - somehow, her shirt was on backwards. "How are you feeling?"

Natalie grimaced in reply. "Remind me not to drink so much - I can never remember everything that happens. But then, you know that." She looked at Nick, eyeing the amount of bare skin appreciatively. "You look like you had a bit of a rough night yourself."

"How did I get into this outfit?"

"You mean you don't remember?" Nat began to giggle at the look on Nick's face. "Oh, Nick, it was priceless. You and Laura were doing Rocky Horror on top of the bar - she was Magenta, and I believe you were Frank - and all of a sudden they grabbed you."

God, he hadn't done Rocky Horror in years. "Who grabbed me?"

"You really don't remember, do you? Pity you can't blank out more of your past and give some screen time to the rest of us. I can't remember everyone, but I think it was Captain Cohen and GT and Leslie and Di and Jamie and Vicki. Sharon was taping it, of course..." She trailed off, thinking. "Maybe Molly and DeeA and Sheila, too, but I'm not sure. DeeA and Tara were following that Mountie around for half the night. Anyway, before I could blink, they started singing songs from "The Sound of Music," had you stripped down to your boxers, and Cohen was making you put on the black silk PJ bottoms."

"Cohen? To my boxers?" said Nick, horrified.

"Yup. Cute ones, too. Didn't know you liked Animaniacs." Natalie tapped her cheek, trying to remember the details. "At least it wasn't that nightgown! The bidding war got pretty hot for your jacket - Laurie and Lisa were really going at it."

Nick couldn't believe that he had completely blanked all of this out. "They were bidding on my clothes?"

"Like crazy. Ron was leading the auction. Oh, well." Natalie tried to make a sudden move and winced in pain. "Ouch. I'm just not myself. Between the wine, and the cake, and the Natpack singing to me all night, I'm exhausted."

"You're exhausted?" Nat and Nick turned as Janette came into the room, wrapping a scarlet silk robe around herself. Without a stitch of makeup, she still looked beautiful - though her eyes were a little red. "I'm the one who's tired. I'm never volunteering to host a birthday party again - and certainly not one for Susan Garrett. The oddest people show up."

"Where is Susan, anyway?" asked Nick. Janette threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Who knows. Last I saw she was dancing the mambo with Ryan, and that damn bald man - the one who kept talking about going where no one had gone before - was trying to cut in. Then Sam started leaping, so we all had to say goodbye. He always leaves at the most inconvenient times."

Natalie stifled a yawn. "Susan's probably asleep. She usually dozes off under tables or in closets, so she'll turn up eventually. I think she was up all night. For a while there, she was helping Lillian and Deb."

Nick was almost afraid to ask. "Helping them do what?"

"I'm not sure, exactly." Nat frowned, thinking. "Something about flaming. I don't really understand what they were talking about - flaming a child?"

"I believe the direct quote is 'flame the little twit out of the water,' " said Janette. "It's a Net thing, apparently. Mulder and Scully were helping them, too."

"I'm sorry I missed them." Two more people he didn't remember seeing. Pity - he liked Scully.

"They weren't here long - they showed up and paid their respects to Susan. Then Scully dragged Mulder away from Janette and we haven't seen them since." Natalie shrugged. "They always have to behave themselves on the show. When you get them away from Chris Carter, it's just sex, sex, sex."

Still trying to figure out what was going on, as always, Nick started pacing, tripped, and had to grab the bar for support. "What the..." Leaning down, he picked up something completely unidentifiable, even to him - and when he hit a switch, it started to buzz.

Natalie snatched it out of his hand and slipped it into a pocket, blushing. "Don't look at that. It was an... umm... present from Lisa McDavid. Apparently she went shopping in New Orleans..."

"Don't GO there!" called a voice from behind the bar. Nick looked at Nat, puzzled.

She just shook her head. "It's Sheryl. Just ignore her. She and Pinky - I mean Deb - were running around issuing fashion citations last night; between that and the gin she's been incoherent for hours." A lone hand poked up behind the bar, waved a bottle of Bombay Gin, and disappeared again.

"Oh! I just remembered - Janette, have you seen Robin of Sherwood? Tara was asking about him." Janette didn't reply, and suddenly her attention was everywhere but on Nat. Natalie put her hands on her hips. "Janette, what did you do with him?"

Janette shrugged, and had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I was hungry, he was in tights. What's a vampire to do?" Nick looked reproving, and she patted him gently on the cheek. "Besides, Nicola, he's a fictional character. It just doesn't matter."

Nick was about go to into another tiresome monologue on the value of life - fictional or otherwise - when he realized he couldn't remember seeing LaCroix. "Speaking of fictional characters, I guess LaCroix didn't make an appearance. Too bad."

"Actually, he did show up - but he didn't get to spend any time at the party." Janette smiled. "He was grabbed by the two Jills, and they hauled him into the storage room, never to be seen again. They were muttering something about his butt, for some reason."

"They're obsessed with his butt. Mike and Geoff were pouring ice water on them at one point, just to shut them up," chimed in Natalie. "And Little Jill a Natpacker - she should be ashamed of herself."

"MUD FLAPS!" called Sheryl from behind the bar. The three ignored her - which wasn't easy, given the volume level.

Nick's memory was starting to return, and he looked at Janette in horror. "Janette, were you singing to Natalie last night?"

Both Janette and Nat laughed. "Nicola, don't be absurd," said Janette. "I do not sing. That was Amy, cherie."

"But she looks exactly like..."

"I know, I know." Janette went behind the bar and pulled out several bottles, handing one to Nick. "Here. It's cow." Yanking the cork out of another bottle and tossing it at Miklos' sleeping form, she took a deep drink. Nick couldn't remember ever seeing her drink straight from a bottle - she must be tired.

"We need to track down Jennie and burn the quote list," said Natalie darkly. "There's enough blackmail material on that list to keep FKFIC busy for years." She raised her eyebrows at Janette. "Although when Amanda took off with Alma..."

"They must think they're on Darkangel's Adult page," said Janette dismissively. "I think Alyce followed them out - good riddance."

Nick, overcome with confusion once again, sat down abruptly on the dance floor and took a swig from the bottle. Mid-drink, he realized that the moaning, which had woken him in the first place, hadn't stopped. He set down the bottle and crawled on all fours over to a sleeping body. He rolled it over - it was a man, wearing a trenchcoat.

"Who's this?"

Janette shot Natalie a look, and she had the good grace to blush as she replied. "That's - well, that's Duncan MacLeod."

Janette hissed lightly, but there was little malice in it. "That's the last time I leave you to welcome the guests, Doctor Lambert."

"Well," shrugged Natalie, "What's a girl to do? He's single, he's cute, he has an accent, and I don't have to worry about social diseases - or death by fanging." She shot a look at Nick.

The moaning stopped abruptly and one eye opened unwillingly. "Unnnh..." Duncan spotted Nick and sat up quickly - then grabbed his head in pain. "Oh, my God. My head is going to explode."

"Stop complaining. Like giving you an aspirin would do any good," said Natalie acerbically. She went over and offered him a hand getting up off the floor. Nick, still sitting on the floor, watched in bewilderment as Duncan planted a loud kiss on Natalie - and she didn't seem to object.

"You look a little under the weather today, Duncan," said Janette. Giving him one last regretful, hungry look, she walked to her office.

"Who said that Immortals don't get hung over?" called Duncan after her. He wrapped an arm around Natalie. "Let's go get some lunch, beautiful."

"Sounds good."

Nick watched, dumbfounded, as Nat and Duncan headed out the door. "Natalie? Where are you going?"

She looked back at him, sitting forlornly in the middle of the dance floor. "I'm going to lunch with Duncan. After all, we're in Jill's upcoming crossover story together - we're just trying to get better acquainted."

"Much better acquainted," said Duncan mischievously. They left, laughing.

Nick looked around the Raven. As usual, he felt bereft, lost, alone, unwanted, and eternally damned. He was stuck here all day, too, and all he wanted to do was go back to the loft and feel sorry for himself - in other words, spend a typical day at home.

"Hey, partner!" Schanke, finally awake, climbed up from amid the pizza boxes. "Great party, huh?" He looked at Nick and snickered. "Nice outfit."

Nick realized that he did look like an idiot sitting on the dance floor in black silk pajama bottoms. He scrambled up off the floor and followed Schanke as he walked across the room. "There's someone I want you to meet, buddy. I just have to find her..." Schanke walked around the Raven, peering at the piles of sleeping people. "Aha!" He nudged a sleeping form with his toe. "Wake up, cookie."

A petite blonde, wearing short shorts and a tube top, rolled over and smiled drowsily at Schanke. "Hey, Donny!"

"Whoops - I saw the tube top and thought this was your new partner. Actually, this is one of the women that's going to be stripping here every Friday." Schanke backed away. "Go back to sleep, Bambi."

"And why does she know your name, Don?" Both Schanke and Nick backed away instinctively as Myra approached, her arms folded.

"Sweetheart!"

"Don't sweetheart me, bucko. I can't believe you..."

Nick left Schanke and Myra to work it out, and walked forlornly to Janette's office. He was stopped in the doorway by a stranger - a vampire.

"We didn't meet last night." The dark-haired vampire smiled at Nick, showing some fang. "You were too busy with all your female fans... Enjoy it while you can."

"I don't believe we've met."

"Oh, I know who you are. Nick Knight, the sensitive old vampire cop." He snorted. "I'm Javier Vachon, otherwise known as Cowsie. I'm the new studly Gen X vampire they're bringing in next season." He leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe. "They don't want me to be sensitive, or caring, or anything but a buff bad boy. I'm here for the desirable 18 - 24 demographic."

Nick felt at a distinct disadvantage. Between his usual confusion, his apparently lousy demographic appeal, and his lack of clothing, he wasn't quite sure how to handle this situation.

"I'm a sure thing," continued Vachon casually. "Especially if I can track down this Susan Garrett chick and convince her I'm the greatest thing since beignets. Have you seen her?"

Nick felt his stomach clench in fear. He couldn't let this - this thing get to Susan. If she liked him... and wrote about him... what would happen to Nick? To Janette? Susan would start by writing Vachon stories, and she'd end up writing fanfic for "Baywatch"!

Nick felt his fangs drop, and knew it was time to teach this vampire a lesson he wouldn't forget.

Old?

He'd show him old...

***