|Author||Name Withheld 2|
|Date||27 January 1996|
|Rating/Warning||Category:PG-Rated Fan Fiction|
LaCroix contemplates life, Vachon considers Nick, and Janette regards Natalie, all in a haze of cigarette smoke.
- The smell of tobacco burning reminds me of a forest, and a fire, and a very young child... her smile was pure radiance as she reached up to me, thinking me her saviour.
- I like him.
No, really. Even though he's the original mortal wanna-be -- just like the girls and women who liked to follow me around during my pseudo-lives in the music business; the guys who elbowed each other out of the way to be my best buddy. Sycophants, all of 'em, so desperate to be part of the 'in crowd' that they'd do damn near anything... Nick's the same way, when it comes to humanity; and just like the groupies, watching him at work is amusing and more than a little pathetic.
- Limited by the scope of their arguments, of their possessiveness, by the small circle of "the family", she had been constrained to old patterns of behavior. The move had renewed her, refreshed her; there were no limits, not any longer.