Subj: DARK FRONTIER, DS/TOS Crossover, pt 18
Date: 5/17/01 5:32:11 PM Central Daylight Time
From: JM Lane

As soon as he himself rose, Barnabas went to the Inn, making sure to keep out of sight of the Vulcan and the Human male with the phaser and crucifix around his neck. Finally, roughly five minutes after official sunset, Spock reluctantly got up and made his way over to the bed where Lani Davidson's covered body lay. He threw the sheet back and moved to place the point of the stake over her heart, gently pressing it into her breast and moving his right hand, the one with the mallet in it, back for the strike.

That was when her eyes opened—feral, vulpine, terrible (and yet hypnotic) eyes—-and unbelievably strong hands grasped the stake, attempting to move it, and succeeded…but not enough. The Vulcan forced himself to concentrate on his task, striking the stake sharply several times as Dickerson held the crucifix a short distance away from her.

The thing which had been Lani Davidson hissed balefully, then writhed and screamed in anger and pain as Spock's blows reverberated in their ears and throughout the room…and because the intercom was open, the others heard every thing that went on.

"Oh, my God. It's happening-—now!" Christine breathed, well able to imagine the scene in the adjoining room. Outside, on the window ledge, Barnabas waited and watched with a mixture of pain and relief that the girl would be at peace…which was more than he could say for himself. That is, unless he managed to convince Christine and her companions to help him find a permanent cure for his condition.

After what seemed an eternity, the hideous, unearthly screaming and hissing was over…although in reality, only twenty minutes had passed on the chrono. It was a long moment before Kirk dared to approach the door, but the suspense and waiting were too much to endure any longer. (Unknown to anyone, Barnabas had moved inside the room, materializing behind the curtains hanging at the window, keeping his feet just far enough off the floor so that he could see but not be seen.)

The Captain knocked tentatively at the door, calling out softly. "Spock? Dickerson?"

The ensuing silence was so lengthy that Kirk was about to call out again when he heard the Vulcan reply, "It is over, Jim. You may come in now."

Kirk looked at the others gathered around him, the group tacitly agreeing that they would all go in together, steeling themselves for whatever they would see, knowing it wouldn't be pretty, to put it mildly…but truly believed they could handle the sight. They were wrong.

When Kirk opened the door, a grisly sight met their eyes. Spock and his entire uniform were drenched with blood; Dickerson's was only slightly less so. Both stood next to the equally blood-drenched bed and the body on it, a gory stake protruding from its chest. There was also a large bloodstain on the wall. Christine barely suppressed a scream at the frightful sight; the others just stood frozen in their tracks, eyes wide with horror.

Only McCoy had enough presence of mind to speak, and even then, only a few words. "Holy God…this place looks like a slaughterhouse!"

"That is because it is—-or was, Doctor," the Vulcan replied, his voice almost too quiet for the Humans to catch. He still held the bloody mallet in his right hand. The only good thing about all this was that Lani Davidson would rest in peace, having been spared the Hell of vampirism. She would never roam the night with a lust for blood, searching for victims to ease her unholy hunger, never hide out in a casket by day, ever-fearful of discovery and being destroyed as Barnabas had done for centuries.

It would be a long time before either the Vulcan or Dickerson would forget either the feral, vulpine eyes or the long, sharp teeth which had jutted, animal-like, from her open mouth. But both had forced back their instinctive horror and did their assigned task, knowing that it was an act of mercy, not murder, however messy and unpleasant it might have been.

Now that it was all behind him, Spock felt sickened, even nauseated, at the sight of so much blood; there was even a pool of it at his feet on the rug beside the bed. Not only he and Mr. Dickerson, but the bed and Ensign Davidson's body, were covered with it.

Once they had gathered enough control, the others approached to congratulate Spock and Dickerson on a job well done. "You did it, Spock. Ensign Davidson is at peace now," Kirk told him with a smile.

The rest smiled and nodded in agreement, particularly when the Captain continued, "As you've said many times, it was `the logical thing to do'."

"If you or Mr. Dickerson need counseling after this, Spock, just let me or Christine know and we'll do everything we can for you both," the Doctor told him in his gentlest voice.

"Thank you, Doctor," the Vulcan returned, almost too quietly. "May I clean up now?"

The young Security officer smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Of course," McCoy told him, both he and Kirk refraining from touching their Vulcan friend at this point, having to settle for verbal comfort and reassurance.

"Bones, call Room Service and get extra towels, sheets, pillows and pillowcases. Spock and Mr. Dickerson are going to need them, just as we're going to need to wrap up Ensign Davidson's body. Once we get back to the ship, the best thing to do is to vaporize it, then explain that it was her request to be vaporized by phaser because of the manner in which she died. Her medical file will be sealed once you put in your final report. No autopsy will be needed, since we all know what she died of. However, we'll officially be able to tell her family is that she died in the line of duty…which is true. That's all they need to know at this point."

McCoy nodded solemnly, knowing the next duties would be his. As Chief Medical Officer, it was also his responsibility to inform the Captain of when he had finished, so that Kirk could make the necessary arrangements, including contacting Ensign Davidson's family and the proper local authorities on her home planet of Alpha Centauri Seven.

"I only have one question, Spock," McCoy asked as the Vulcan headed for the bathroom. "When would you say she truly died?"

"My internal clock recorded the time of true death as 1800 hours, Doctor." With that, Spock disappeared into the bathroom; the others heard the click of the lock and knew what the next move was to be. Christine got him some clean clothes, but Kirk was the one who handed them in to him once he was done showering.

A short time later, a maid brought up the requested items, including cleaning fluid for the wall and carpet. After answering
her knock, McCoy said to leave the stuff outside the door, that he would pick it up. The girl privately wondered why she was not allowed in the room, but it was not her place to ask why, simply do her job.

After making sure the maid had gone, the Doctor reached out to grab the cart with the requested items, pulled it inside, then carefully locked the door again. The stake was pinning Lani's body to the bed, so Dickerson was told to remove it so they could move the body off the bed. After he had done so, the bed was thoroughly stripped and cleaned by McCoy and Christine.

They wrapped the body in two sheets and set it aside temporarily; Kirk and Dickerson together moved the damaged mattress to one side and simply covered the box spring with a sheet and extra blanket from the closet, then a pillow and pillowcase from the cart. After rummaging through the closet, the Doctor came up with a large, heavy denim laundry bag with a drawstring closing, sticking the bloody bedclothes, pillow and all, into it—then handed it in to Spock. It would
not be ready for disposal until his and Dickerson's bloody clothes and towels had all been retrieved.

Not long afterward, Christine scrubbed both the large bloodstain off the wall and the area of the carpet beside the bed. She had just finished when Spock emerged from the bathroom, both looking and feeling more like himself in one of his favorite Vulcan robes. The Vulcan handed the laundry bag to Dickerson, then the latter took it into the bathroom with him. The bloody, splintered stake had been disintegrated via phaser beam.

McCoy fetched clothes for the younger man, handed them in to him, then called the ship to beam down a gurney and a medteam to accompany Lani Davidson's body back to the ship and into temporary stasis in the morgue. Once everything was ready, the Doctor sent the occupied gurney and medteam back with strict orders not to discuss their findings or opinions with anyone but himself or the Captain; otherwise they would be put on report. They nodded silently and the latter said, "Energize."

This time, when the group looked around, the room had taken on at least a semblance of normalcy. By this time it was full dark and the room lights were on, but dimly, the equivalent of candlelight; everyone's faces took on a ruddy glow.
"Thank God that's over," Kirk opined feelingly.

Spock and the others, including Dickerson, heartily concurred. "I only wish we could find out who did this and why—-then we could wrap this thing up," the Captain remarked.

They whirled in shock when an all-too-familiar, cultured male voice with a touch of a British accent answered him. "I did it," the voice confessed. "But I will not show myself until you agree to hear me out, reserve judgment until after I have told my story." The voice held sadness and regret. "I am confessing because I believe in taking responsibility for my actions…but I assure you that in the case of the unfortunate Miss Davidson, I had little choice but to do what I did--and give you my word that none of the rest of you will be harmed. In fact, I truly abhor my condition and hope you will be willing to help me try to reverse it."

By this time, Christine had recognized the voice and all the blood had left her face. "Barnabas! Oh, my God…is that you?"

Both the female Doctor and the young Security officer were thoroughly stunned. Neither Spock, Kirk nor McCoy were surprised, however; they had, in fact, suspected this very thing almost right from the start…and now everyone else knew, including Christine.

Spock could only hope it would not be too much of a shock for her.

"We can't make any promises or guarantees, sir, but assure you that we will do all we can for you--but *after* we've heard your story. And for us to hear your story, you must show yourself to us," Kirk informed him.

"Very well," the voice returned softly. A moment later Barnabas Collins stepped from behind the curtains, clad as usual in a dark suit and tie, his high-collared, tiered cloak, his wolf's-head cane in one hand and an onyx ring on the index finger of that same hand.

"Would you mind explaining yourself, Mr. Collins?" Kirk inquired politely but firmly. "I just lost one of my best Security people because of you, so I'm entitled to an explanation, if nothing else. I am also assuming that my original guesses about you were correct."

"They were, Captain Kirk," Barnabas confirmed. "I am indeed the original Barnabas Collins—-and I am a vampire."

"Ohhh…" Spock's sensitive ears heard Christine's soft cry and caught her as she fainted. He then placed her on the couch and made her comfortable before they faced the newcomer again, more than ready to receive the answers they sought-—and directly from the one responsible for the attacks they had been assigned to investigate.

"Spock, grab your tricorder, check him over. This will be the story of the century!" the Captain exclaimed. "Unless you prefer that we keep it classified, Mr. Collins," Kirk offered.

Spock had followed orders regarding the tricorder and was getting no readings whatsoever. At first he was sure something was wrong with it, then realized that creatures such as Barnabas would not register any life signs…that magic was the only thing animating his body, because to all intents and purposes, it was dead. That explained a lot of things, to all of them. Maybe now Christine would take him seriously… At least *he* was truly alive!

"I would appreciate it, Captain," came the reply. "Now, if all of you are ready, I shall begin."