Subject: 98-Skeletons


This is primarily a journey of discovery for Tracy.  My husband calls 
it an FK-FK X-over.  Sound odd?  You'll have to read it for that to 
make sense...  :>

As we all know, they aren't mine, much as I wish they were.  I'm just
borrowing them for a few minutes.

Permission for Mel or Cynthia to archive.  Anyone else may, also, but
PLEASE be sure to let me know where.
(98/07/19 addendum: any T+Vpacker or DP may archive.)
======================================================================

SKELETONS
~~~~~~~~~
A story by "Micki" Lynn McCormick
(Feb 26, 98)

timeframe: anytime during 3rd season
spoilers: 2nd season ep "Beyond the Law"
======================================================================

	Natalie walked into the precinct to drop off some paperwork.  Once
done, she went to see if Nick was in yet.  Instead of finding Nick 
however, Tracy sat at her desk looking rather upset and like she was
seriously lacking sleep.  Natalie walked up an put her hand on the young
detective's shoulder, "Hey, Trace.  Have you seen Nick?"

	"Ahk..."  Tracy jumped and swallowed a squeal of surprise at the 
touch.  "Oh, Hi Natalie.  No.  I don't think he's here yet.  He better be
soon though."  Tracy rubbed her eyes.

	"Are you okay?  You don't look well, Tracy."

	"Oh, yeah.  I'm fine.  Just tired is all.  I was at the hospital
all day visiting with my mom.  She's in and will be for a while."  Tracy
stood up and reached for her coffee mug.

	Natalie looked worried.  "What's the matter with your mom?"

	Tracy sat her mug down, and beckoned Natalie to follow her.
Silently the two women walked across the office and towards the washroom.
Once there, and Tracy had ensured no one else was in the room, she
answered the coroner's question, still in a whisper.  "My mom's in for
liver failure.  She's had sorosis of the liver for years.  Now..." Tracy
shrugged.  "I feel really sad for her and all, but at the same time, I
don't know why she did this to herself.  The fact she did makes me angry.
Then I feel guilty for feeling angry...  So I guess that's why I look
tired.  She did this to herself, Nat!  It's so embarrassing!"

	"Tracy, Don't let it embarrass you.  Everyone has skeletons in
their closets.  Everyone's is something different, but we all have them."
Natalie squeezed Tracy's arm reassuringly.

	Tracy looked at Natalie, puzzled.  She found it hard to believe
that everyone had something they'd rather hide, much as she wanted to
believe it.  "Even you?"

	Natalie paled slightly, if only for a fraction of a second
and began to subconsciously rub at bruises long since vanished.  "Yes,"
she answered simply.

	Tracy paused, considering.  "Even Nick?"

	Natalie looked at Tracy, and rolled her eyes in an overly
exagerated manner for the younger woman's benefit.  "Hell, Yeah."

	Tracy began to laugh, in spite of herself.  The two women left the
washroom and walked back to the desks, Tracy in a much better mood.

	As they got back to the desks, Nick looked up and smiled.  "Were
were you two?" 

	Tracy looked at him, then a Natalie, and grinned.  "Oh, we were
just discussing the skeletons in your closet, Nick."

	Nick looked at Natalie, his expression something akin to shock,
disbelief, and abject terror.

	Natalie sat on the edge of his desk, putting her hand on Nick's
shoulder.  She whispered quietly, "Not the details, Nick.  Just the fact
that you, like every other human, have them."  She watched Nick relax.

	Natalie leaned forward as she slid off Nick's desk, inadvertently
giving her favorite detective a quick glimpse of cleavage in the process.
She put her hand atop his, and squeezed it gently.  "Stop by later if you
have time.  I've got to get back to work."  Natalie waved at both Nick and
Tracy as she left.

----------

	Tracy sat in her apartment at the table, a big trunk on the floor
by her feet as she sat and looked blankly at the coffee mug in one hand.
Tonight would be the first of her two off, so Tracy figured she'd stay up
today and get this overwith.  As the early morning sunlight began to
stream in the window behind her, she recalled the time as a teenager when
she was preparing to go off for a summer to work as a junior camp leader.
She had seen the trunk up in the attic and had asked her mom what it was,
if it was something she could take with her as it would be far preferable
to multiple small suitcases.  Her mother had freaked.

	"HOW DARE YOU?" the elder woman had screamed.  "THOSE ARE MINE!"
Her mother's voice quavered now, sounding on the brink of tears.  "All of
my memories are in there and you want to use it as a simple suitcase?"
Her tears began to flow, unrestricted then.  "Get your own, Tracy.  I'm
sure Daddy will buy you whatever you want." 

	Tracy had watched, wondering what she had done to provoke that
outburst from her mother as the elder woman walked to the fridge, sobbing,
took a bottle and headed towards the stairs to go up to her bedroom.

	Tracy shifted, and looked at the key on the table.  She felt wrong
going through her mother's keepsakes, but the doctor treating Barbara had
felt that there was some deeply traumatic experience that had caused her
to turn to the bottle for solace.  He had brought in a psychiatrist to
help him work with Barbara, but all that Tracy's mother would tell either
one of them was "Go to Hell!"  They had asked Tracy if she knew what had
been the trigger, but she hadn't.   Then they had asked Tracy if her
mother had any tresured belongings, and of course she had told them about
the incident with the trunk.  It was at their request that she was now
about to delve into her mother's treasures, her 'memories' as she had
called the trunk.

	Tracy sighed, and unlocked the trunk.  Inside there was a
collection of odds and ends that Tracy assumed would make sense later on,
but the main thing of interest was the collection of diaries.  Most were
the locking kind and had the key taped to the cover.  A few were plain and
didn't lock, but all of them were numbered in order, marked neatly in the
upper right corner of each cover.  Tracy sifted through them, putting them
into numerical order.  Once she was sure she had them all, she began to
read.

	The first one began "This is January 1, 1955.  My name is Barbara
Addison, but everyone calls me Barb.  I am 9 years old, and this is my
very first diary.  It was given to me by my cousin and best friend who is
practically my sister, Angie M.  She is 1 month older than me.  I don't
know exactly what I'm supposed to write in a diary, but I'm going to have
fun.  I'll get to visit Angie during summer holidays, like I do every
summer, and she'll be really happy I'm using the diary she gave me."

	Tracy sat the diary down, and took her coffee mug to the kitchen
to refill.  After filling it she sat it on the table again, then wandered
to her bathroom, wondering idly about this cousin of her mom's whom had
once obviously been such an important part of Barbara's life.  She
returned in short order and sat down to her fresh coffee and the diary.

	There were many books, as they were each one year diaries.  Tracy
read about her mother's first crush at 11, discovered that she and Angie
had written each other 2 or 3 times a month, and how at 13 the two girls
had decided that 'Barb' and 'Angie' were childish and immature, and they
began insisting that people call them 'Barbara' and 'Angela', which they
believed sounded far more mature, sophisticated and adult.  Tracy had
laughed at that, trying to imagine the 2 girls together.

	The next diary had a photo taped to the inside cover, a black &
white which had printed in the border of it 'To Barbara.  Merry Christmas.
Remember our first boyfriends this summer?  I wonder where Andrew and
Nathan are now?'  The photo was of 4 young teens all in a line with their
arms around each other's waists.  A boy was on each end of the line and
there were 2 girls in the middle, laughing.  Tracy gasped and dropped the
diary, her hands shaking as she picked up her coffee and gulped it.  She
had seen enough photo's of her mother that Tracy knew which of the 2
teenage girls in the photo was her.  The other one, however, were it not
for the fact that the photo was taken years before Tracy was even born,
could have been her own twin at that age.

	Tracy took a break for a while, getting lunch and doing some
laundry, giving her mind time to absorb  that this Angela person, her
mother's cousin, was her own virtual doppleganger.  

	Soon however, Tracy went back to reading - her mother's first
date,  getting her drivers licence, and her school proms.  Tracy had
laughed to discover that her mother had been the most excited about her
first strapless dress.

	Barbara was 17 when her grandfather was struck by a vehicle while
walking beside a darkened road one night, and her diary entires seemed to
take on a slightly angry tone.  Shortly thereafter she had begun to have
problems with her parents.

	Barbara had begun to see a young man steadily in her senior year
of high school whom her father wished to meet.  When he did, he became
very upset almost as soon as they had been introduced.  Tracy read on,
absorbed, as her mother described looking on in horror at her father's
reaction.  She quoted them both.

	"I'm sorry, boy, but you may take your leave now, and I would
appreciate you not speaking to my daughter again."

	The young man had apparently squared his shoulders, and stood up
before the elder man.  "Might I ask why, Sir?  I'll not lie and say your
daughter is the first girl I've courted, but she is the first and I hope
only onewhom I have been serious about, Sir.  But the other girls parents
seemed impressed by the fact that I wish to follow in my father's
footsteps and plan to become a police officer.  They seemed to think it
made me a better person, somehow.  So I would like to know why it is that
you want me to discontinue seeing Barbara."

	Barbara had looked on in shock as her father had proclaimed, "Your
surname is Vetter.  That's German.  That means that you are too.  I fought
against the bloody kraut's in the war.  I'm sure as hell not about to let
my daughter date one!  Barbara had stood crying as her father pointed at
the door and her boyfriend walked towards it.

	Richard had turned at the door.  "I will take my leave, Sir, but
for the record, despite the name, I have a stronger English and Irish
background than I do German.  My mother is half English and half Irish,
while you have to go back to my great great grandfather before you find
the German immigrant.  He came to Canada before it was it's own country,
back when it was either Upper Canada or Lower Canada that he had come to.
In fact, my father also fought in the second world war.  He also fought
with the Canadian forces, against Germany, just as you did, sir.  All the
German surname means is that one of my ancestors was German.  Good Night,
sir."  He smiled at Barbara who was crying, and left.

	As soon as the door was closed, Barbara had begun to sob, and had
run upstairs to her bedroom, crying fiercely and had thrown herself across
her bed.  She wrote in her diary that about 5 or 10 minutes later she had
realized there was the occasional 'click' sound at her window, and had
gone over to look, sniffling.  She had seen her young beau below the
window with a small handful of pebbles.  She smiled and wiped her tears
before opening the window.  As she was about to speak, but he held his
finger to his mouth, indicating she should stay silent.  After a few
minutes of figuring out his gestures, she had found one of her school
notebooks and had tied it and a pencil to a piece of string which she had
lowered out the window.  After he'd written in it, and retied the pencil,
she pulled it back up.  It was instructions to meet him at the library
after school, and he'd take her someplace where he would teach her how to
climb a tree, so she could come and go from her window via the old maple
with relative ease.  Her bigest notation about however was "He signed it
as 'Love, Richie' !!!!!!!!!!!!!"  And drawn sideways at the bottom of the
page was a heart and written in it was "Barbara Vetter" with the notation
below it "I hope".

	Tracy smiled, having a hard time envisioning her mother as the
typical teenage girl, writing her boyfriend's surname after her own to see
how it looked...  and yet here was the proof.  She wondered idly if this
was something every teenage girl did?  She didn't recall doodling her own
that way, but she did remember sitting in the bathtub relaxing or lying
quietly in bed before falling asleep and whispering 'Tracy' followed by
the last name of her current boyfriend or the guy she wished was a
boyfriend and listening to the sound of it to see if it sounded right.

	Soon most of the diary entries consisted mainly of reports of or
plans to sneak out to meat Richie.  She'd drop a paper sack out the window
containing whatever dress she was going to wear and her good shoes and
makeup.  Then she'd climb out the window.  Richard would stop at a service
station, and she'd run in and change in the washroom, and fix up her hair
and makeup.  Then they'd go out on a date somewhere.  They'd do the
reverse process for going home, and he'd hang onto her bag of clothes
below her window until she was up and dropped a piece of rope for him to
tie it to so she could pull it up behind her.

	Tracy read on the entry for her mother's 19th birthday.  After
Barbara had gone out for dinner with her parents, they'd come home, and
after a sufficient amount of time she had sneaked out the window to meet
Richard.  They had gone to a movie, then to a small cafe where they sat
and spoke quietly in a booth together.  He told her that he loved her, and
if she felt the same way, that he'd start saving up for an engagement ring
and wedding band set.  After she had said yes, they had driven to a little
motel, registering as Mr. & Mrs. Smith.  Tracy blushed clear to her toes 
as she read her mother's account of her first time.

	There were a couple of empty pages then, and Tracy stopped to fill
up her emptied coffee mug.

	She returned to read about more escapades, including how Barbara
had gone to Richard's graduation from the police academy and was
introduced to people as his fiancee, and the time her she was discovered
leaving via the tree and the next day her father cut the tree down.

	Barbara didn't know where he found it, but Richard met her at the
library with a rope emergency ladder that hooked over a window sill a few
days later.  She didn't want her dad to realize she was still sneaking out
by noticing a chill draft from under her bedroom door on cool nights, so
she fastened a window box very securely right below her window, so that
she could pull her window closed when she left.  She couldn't do anything
about the rope ladder hanging against the wall, but that risk was one she
would take.

	Throughout all this, there was maintained a weekly exchange of
letters between Barbara and Angela, as well as Barbara still went to spend
part of her summer vacations with her american cousin.

	Tracy read how her mother wore Richard's engagement ring on a
chain so that she could tuck it inside her blouse where her father
wouldn't see it.

	Suddenly, there was a several page gap with no writing, followed
by "I DID IT!!!!!!!!" written across the page in giant letters.  Following
this, the explanation that Richard had come down to stay with her at
Angela's new apartment for part of the summer, and how Angela and a friend
of hers had been their witnesses when she and Richard had gotten married
by a judge in the the city in which Angela lived.  She had stayed with a
friend for a couple of weeks to give them time to have a honeymoon of
sorts in her apartment.  Of course, they didn't have a house yet, so they
had to pretend for a little while longer.  On her return home she still
had to sneak out of her parent's house to meet her new husband.  

	Tracy read on as the entries detailed some of the plans that
Richard had made to take over a house and the payments on it from a
co-worker on the force who was retiring soon and moving out to Victoria,
BC.  Unfortunately it looked like they were not going to be able to move
into it until close to Christmas.

	It was early fall when Barbara mentioned Angela had begun talking
about a guy.  Barbara had saved all of Angela's letters from that time on,
and Tracy had the opportunity to read them as well since they were folded
inside her mother's diary on the date that they had arrived.  In one of
the letters she read, "Oh, Barbara - you wouldn't believe this guy!  Like
your Richard, he is also a police officer.  He is so handsome!  He's blond
with blue eyes and has the face of an angel!"  Tracy had smiled at the
woman's gushing adoration of her new love interest, and paused to take a
drink of her coffee.  Then she read on, "He's a real sweet-heart, too.
nick's agreed to do some security for some of the events, but I think he
might actually join the team.  I hope so.  You'd like him, Barbara.  Nick
is so nice..."

	Tracy started.  First this Angela looks a lot like her, and now
they guy in her life is named Nick, just like her own partner at work?
This was just too weird.  Tracy sat the book down and went out to get some
bills paid and do some grocery shopping.  This was something else she
needed time for her mind to absorb.

	It was late afternoon when she next settled down to read the last
portion of what appeared to be the final diary.

	Soon another entry caught her attention.  "I just got a letter
from Angela today.  Poor girl.  She's slightly my senior, but she's so
innocent.  I really hope things work out for her with this Nick guy."

	Tracy opened the letter folded up on that page and read it.  In it
Angela had told Barbara how she was in love with Nick and thought he might
feel the same way towards her.  "I was sorta dating this other guy, but he
wanted me to go out to 'make-out alley' with him.  I wouldn't because I'm
saving myself for Nick, so this other guy dumps me.  That's ok, though.  I
was planning to tell him that night that I didn't want to see him anymore,
so that's fine with me.  I still haven't gone all the way with anyone,
Barbara.  I want it to be special.  That's why now that I think maybe Nick
feels the same way I do, I'm saving myself for him.  I want my first time
to be with him.  I really do love him."  

	Tracy had smiled wanly at the woman's devotion.  Tracy knew the
feeling herself, however by the time she had met a certain spaniard who
looked far younger than his true age, she hadn't saved herself for anyone
special, and had on more than one occasion wished she had, even though she
knew that in her own case it would probably be a death sentence of one
sort or another.  Tracy sighed and refocused on the letter.  She smiled as
she read the next bit.

	Angela had added, almost conspiratorially it seemed, "After the
next debate I'm going to ask him out!"  There was a winking happy face
drawn there, and then the next sentence began, "I know, ladies aren't
supposed to ask the guy.  But these are the 60's, and times are changing!
I'm sure he won't be offended.  I think he'll be pleased, actually, since
I really think he's just shyer than me.  Oh Barb, I love him so much.  I
really do!  He's so sweet and such a gentleman.  I think I'm glad your
already married, because I'm sure you'd like him too!"

	Tracy had gone on to read the next few entries, concerned mainly
with the updated and revised plans that meant that she and Richard would 
be able to move into their own home sooner than they had first thought.
It seemed it was just a month away now.

	Tracy turned the page, planning on putting the book down while she
went to get more coffee, but stopped.  The writing on the page she had
just turned to had caught her attention.  The ink on the page, while still
legible, had spread, diluting slightly in what looked to be a red wine
stain on the paper.

	Tracy sat her cup down.  ~This might be it.  This might be what
the doctor wanted me to try and find,~ she thought.  She read slowly.
"GOD!  What am I going to do?  Cable just arrived.  Ange committed suicide
yesterday.  God, now I'm alone.  It was always her and I together.  Even
if we lived in different countries, it was still her and I, together in
fun, against the world when not, but always together.  Now I'm alone.  I
don't know why she did it.  I just hope it wasn't because that Nick fellow
turned her down.  Funeral in 3 days.  I feel so empty, so... hollow."

	Tracy wiped a stray tear for her mom's long dead cousin, and
turned the page.  "Spoke to father.  Told him about Richard and I.  He's
kicking me out.  That's fine.  Richard's parents are happy to have me come
stay there until the house is ours.  Reason I told him was I wanted
Richard to go to the funeral with me.  After all, Angela gave us her
apartment for our honeymoon, and celebrated our wedding with us.  It's
onlt right he attend it with me.  Now Richard and i will be going
tomorrow.  Dad isn't but I think Mom might be.  Think I hear the mailman.
going to check. -- Yup... I did.  There's a letter here from Angela.  I'll
keep it forever, as it's the last thing I'll ever get from her, but I'll
never open it.  Knowing how she took her own life, I don't think I can
face reading an upbeat letter telling me how happy she is and gushing on
about her Nick.  I can't face it."

	Tracy picked up the unopened letter, and opened it carefully along
the end with her nailfile.  Tracy read it aloud, slowly, although there
was no one to hear her.  There was little format to it.

"Dearest Barbara, my most favored cousin:  i hope you can forgive me...  i
hope God can forgive me...  i do not know what i did to make him think i
wanted it, but the senator raped me --- i know it was my own fault... 
he's a good man so i must have done something to make him think...  but if
i'm this evil that i made him rape me, how could someone as sweet and pure
as Nick ever love me...  Nick might never need have known were it not for
the fact that he saw me come out of the senator's suite tucking my clothes
in... there's only one thing he could think from that, even if I don't
tell him i was raped...  either way, i'll have lost him...  either way he
could never love me with me being this evil and bad...  i will be dead by
the time you receive this letter...  i only pray that you'll receive it
before my funeral, if my family holds one for me, since what i'm about to
do goes against every teaching i've ever heard...  but if i'm so evil,
what's one more sin...  please forgive me, Barbara.  i need someone to...
remember always that i love you, please...  i have one request of you... 
if you get this before the funeral, please take the photo with you, and
look for Nick...  i've circled us in the photo since it's a group photo...
if you see him, please tell him i loved him and that i'm so sorry...  have
a good life, Barb... love, Ange."

	Tracy wept for the woman who had lived in a time when the older
views of rape being the woman's fault had been more prevelent than they
were today, who had found the only way to cope with what had happened to
her she could.  She also wept for her mother, finally understanding a
little of her mother's fragile psyche which she normally kept so guarded.

	Slowly and carefully she unwrapped the soft cloth from around the
photograph included in the letter, and sat back, stunned.  "OH MY GOD!"
she finally gasped.

	The woman circled looked even more like Tracy than the one of the
teenagers had, if that were possible.  The hair was different as were the
clothes, but the face...  It would be easy for her to impersonate her
mother's cousin if the doctors were to ask.  The question was would she?
But the man beside Angela, who sat smiling with her hand resting on his
forearm looked exactly like Nick Knight!

	Suddenly a miriad of thoughts flashed through her mind in rapid
succession:  Nick's allergy to sunlight, the way he seemed to fade into
a mental orbit of pluto like Vachon did occasionally, how cold he was, and
the fact that he never ate.  "THAT BASTARD!  He could have told me!"

	A warring thought crossed her mind, ~If Angela and I look so much
alike, it's always possible it could be some uncle or his dad or
something.~

	Tracy continued to flip through the pages, looking to see if there
was anything further written in it.  A few weeks later she found one, and
read it.  "This will be my last entry.  Diaries are for children and I
just do not have time for such things any more.  But I wanted my last
entry to be a positive one.  I just got back from the doctor.  I'm
pregnant.  He asked me not to drink because there is some belief currently
that alcohol can adversely affect an unborn child, so I'll try not to.
I'm torn between wanting a boy since I've always wanted a son, and wanting
a little girl.  I guess I'll just have to wait and see.  I know what I'll
name it if it's a girl, or if not but I have a girl later on, what her
name will be.  Richard's favorite female name is Tracy, and I want my
cousin to live on in some way, so the first girl I have will be named
Tracy Angela Vetter."

	Tracy closed the diary, and smiled sadly.  ~Well, I now know the
story of my middle name and why my mom always got upset if I ever tried to
use it in front of her.~

----------

	Tracy knew that since it was both Nick and Natalie's night off, it
was most probable to find them at his loft.  She checked her hair in her
rear-view mirror and her makeup, and then stepped out of her car,
straightening her skirt and chanel jacket.  She walked carefully over to
the buzzer, and buzzed, turning so her back was to the camera, seemingly
looking in her purse.  When she heard Nick's voice, she asked, "Can I come
up for a few minutes, Nick?"

	Nick buzzed her in, and he and Natalie were standing near the
elevator as she slid the door open and stepped gracefully into the room.

	Nick's face visibly paled.  "Angela?"

	Natalie stared in disbelief as Nick began to step towards Tracy as
if to embrace her.  "Nick, what do you mean, Angela?  That's Tracy... your
partner, remember?"  She looked at Tracy incredulously as the younger
woman stepped back slightly.

	"I knew it!  I knew it, Nick, as soon as I saw the photo, I knew.
Why didn't you tell me?  I'm your partner, Nick.  You shouldv'e trusted me
on that."  She looked at Natalie.  "You should've made him tell me."

	Natalie looked puzzled, realizing that Tracy had discovered Nick's
secret, but unsure what this masquerade as Angela was about, although it
seemed to make perfect sense to the two of them, and obviously was a
factor in Tracy's discovery.

	"I'm sorry Trace, but it's bad enough you know about Vachon.  The
more you know, well, it's exponentially more dangerous for you.  I always
knew you reminded me of Angela, but I had never really realized how
exactly you resemble her."  Nick walked over to the sofa, gesturing the
two women to follow suit.  "You always blamed my protectiveness of you on
who your dad is.  It's nothing to do with that.  I just wanted to protect
you from the same sort of needless..."

	Nick stopped suddenly.  "But how do you know about Ange?" he
asked.

	Tracy sat on the chair opposite Nick and Natalie, and pulled from
her pocket the letter and photo, which she handed to Nick.  "I told you
last night that I had to go through my mom's stuff, remember?  Well, this
was tucked in side one of my mom's diaries, unopened.  She'd been too
heartbroken to open it since it arrived after the cable about Angela had.
I opened it this afternoon.

	Tracy watched as Nick and Natalie read the letter together and
looked at the photo.  Tracy smiled, noting that Natalie seemed as stunned
as she had at the photo.  She knew they would have to talk, but for now,
she'd let the emotions in the letter have their impact.

======================================================================
End of story.  Thank you for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed it.