Down On One Knee 
By Magnes 




"Okay...let me try this again. Ahem! Mr. Calhoun, I would-" 

"Isn't he an officer?" 

Joe looked over at Billy, who was beating out a rhythm against his leg with a pair of battered old drumsticks he'd found in the desk drawer. 

"What?" demanded the DJ. 

"Her dad. The guy that's going to kill you again. Isn't he in the army or something?" 

"Yeah. Canadian army, transferred to the US Army." 

Billy, chewing his gum and bopping to the beat he was playing, idly pursued the subject. "Maybe you should call him that and not mister. What rank is he? Like a general?" 

Joe thought, annoyed he hadn't thought of this himself. "Major, I think. Hold on." He turned his attention to the microphone as the song he'd been playing came to an end. "That was 'Pretty Woman' and if you're wondering who it was sent out to, what fucking cave on what fucking planet have you been hiding in since Armageddon? Next up is CCR's 'Bad Moon Rising' for my pal Billy Tallent, werewolf, acoustic guitarist, composer, and all-around jerk." 

He sat back, thinking. Okay. Major. That sounded a bit more formal. Major Calhoun. Was he a major? Major what? Major general? Major pain in the ass? Major asshole? He pulled off his baseball cap and shook his shaggy hair 
free. Was proposing supposed to be this hard? He'd never envisioned himself 
doing it to anyone. Never saw himself married, but it looked as if this was 
the only way he was going to get what he truly wanted and, he knew, needed. 

Nikko. 

Nikko Florence Calhoun, who insisted she was named after both her fathers. 
Seeing as how her fathers were named James and Thomas, Joe couldn't quite figure that one out. Just a hair under six feet tall, black hair, gray eyes, a figure and face that could stop a clock, AND she only ever wore dresses. 

For some reason he hadn't quite figured out yet, she said she loved him. 

Joe Dick didn't argue. When an Amazon goddess said she loved you, you just 
nodded like an idiot and hoped like hell you'd get lucky. Really lucky. 

Unfortunately, this Amazon's father was a certified psychotic killer, full-time vampire, and he'd wasted neither time nor opportunity to let Joe know exactly what he'd do him if he touched his daughter. Dead or not, Joe knew a genuine threat when it was snarling in his face with half-inch fangs and claws that could tear through a tank. 

It took a while and a desperate phone call to Prince Kowalski, but he finally figured out that if this was ever going to happen, it was going to have to be for real. /Major/ Calhoun was a by-product of the Victorian era and his attitude towards what was right and honorable hadn't changed in a century and a half. The question remained, though - did Joe really want to commit himself so completely? 

He'd though about it for weeks. When Billy had popped up out of whatever cave he'd been hibernating in for the duration of Armageddon, Joe had barely managed to hide his relief behind the insults and camaraderie. Finally, after a full week of entertaining the werewolf, Joe told Billy about Nikko and the fact that her father could reduce the bravest (or stupidest, he wasn't sure which yet) person to a mouse squeaking off in the darkest corner. 

"If it was your drop-dead - oh, sorry, uh, gorgeous six-foot daughter with 
brains and talent-" 

"You wish," quipped Joe with a sneer. 

"And looks and legs that start at her neck, would you want you near her?" 

That question, though it spoke a world of truth, actually hurt a little bit. 
Yeah, would he? 

"Sounds like her dad is protective. And worried for her. I'd be." 

So here they were at the end of the week, sitting around the radio station and trying to figure out how Joe was going to face a Sabbat Elder and ask if he could marry his daughter. 

Billy was drumming away. "Okay. Should we start out with a grovel? 'Major 
Calhoun, sir, I'd like to speak to you and please don't kill me again'? One or two knees, what do you think?" 

"I don't know. Hold that thought." He spoke for a while, berating his listeners. "Send us your requests, I'll be sure to throw them all out. Now 
shut up and listen to some Sting. I'm busy here." He sat back again and 
lifted a note pad. It was covered with scratches and crossed-out speeches. 
"Okay. From the top." 

"Step one, get some balls." 

Joe glowered. "Check," he snapped. Billy chuckled. 

"Step two, get daddy up here." 

"WHAT?" 

"You can't send him a fax asking to marry his daughter!" 

He hadn't thought of that either. That sounded pretty safe, actually. "Why 
not?" 

"Oh, yeah, he's going to let the bombshell marry some dead punk weenie that 
can't even look him in the eye! Come on!" 

"Fuck you!" 

"No thanks. It's you we're working on, Joseph." 

"Fuck you anyway." 

"She's got two dads. How's the other one?" 

"Tom? He's cool. Neurotic, but cool." 

"Will he help?" 

"He'll do what he can, but he says Nikko is really Calhoun's kid more than 
his and I still have to ask him." 

"Okay. Call 'em. Get him working on the vampire." 

"I tried eight times. Fucking Calhoun keeps picking up the phone." 

"Sure you're not calling his phone?" 

"Yeah!" 

He felt Billy studying him from across the room as he picked out more music. 
"What?" 

"I don't know. Never saw you like this over anyone." 

The silent look Joe gave him spoke volumes. 

//Once upon a time, Tallent, it could have been you...// 

Billy slowly smiled a wise, knowing smile. He had to help. Dead or alive, he 
owed it to his friend. Had to atone for his sins somehow. 

"So...how are you going to support a wife? Do you get paid?" 

"No. I'm dead. What would I need money for?" 

"I'm undead. I need money. Okay. Can you leave Wyrmville?" 

"No." 

Billy looked up at the unhappiness in his friend's voice. 

"Well...she's still at home. Does she get an allowance?" 

Joe cast him a look, then started to laugh. What a hell of a situation. 

*** 

Billy watched the transformation that came over his life-long friend when he 
called Nikko in Chicago. He was cool, he was suave, he was so stupid in love 
Billy almost felt sorry for him. It was good to see. Jerk though he may be, 
Joe deserved this chance at happiness. All they had to do was...get past her 
dad. 

"So, when you coming up? Got a friend here I want you to meet." 

Billy could barely make out her voice. It sounded sweet. 

Ten minutes later, Joe hung up. He looked smugly at the werewolf. "Ha! She's 
coming up!" 

Billy grinned. "When?" 

"This weekend. AND she's leaving her dads at home!" 

"Score one for Dick!" 

"God, I hope so!" 

*** 

In the end, the joke was on them. 

No, she didn't bring her fathers. What she brought was actually much, much 
worse. 

A white-haired Mountie accompanied her. Buck Frobisher, here as a favor to 
Fraser, escorting the young and lovely daughter of his good friend, Major 
Calhoun. 

And Buck wasn't alone. Oh, no. 

He's fucking brought Bob Fraser along for the ride. 

Vestal Virgins had fewer chaperones. 

Joe cursed for twenty songs straight before Billy got through. 

"Buck might be able to help!" 

"Call him Frobisher, will you, for fuck's sake Billiam?" 

"Okay. Sorry. Butter him up! He knows her dad! Maybe he can...you know, put 
in a good word." 

"That old fossil? I'm surprised he's able to stand upright! And Jesus, did 
he have to bring Fraser? All the guy wants to do is talk and listen to 
Sinatra!" 

"If he's part of the Nikko Florence inner sanctum, you're fucking playing 
Sinatra!" yelled Billy. 

"No fucking way!" 

*** 

"...and that was 'My Way' by Bob's favorite crooner. Stay tuned, kids, 'New 
York, New York' is next!" 

*** 

"So, you're Joe's friend?" 

"Yeah. Billy Tallent. Used to play in a band together." 

"You know why I'm here, son. Tell me, is Joe serious?" 

"As a heart attack, Buck." 

"I hope he understands how much her family loves her that they're so 
protective." 

"Yeah. I think he does. He's just not used to waiting for what he wants." 

"Well, this will teach him patience. Jamey is just concerned about his 
intentions, as is her brother, Adam." 

Billy frowned. "What about her other dad, Tom?" 

"He's far more flexible than the others. He's half Moloch." 

"Oh, cool! Then..." 

"Don't worry, Jamey more than makes up for his looser morels." 

"Oh, well." 

*** 

"Alright you goddamned, frickin' mother fucker! Who the hell do you fucking 
think you are tryin' to push your fucking outdated moral code on me? Nikko's 
a grown adult and she can make her own decisions! She doesn't need your 
fucking approval or your fucking blessing to fucking do whatever the fuck 
she fucking feels like doing! Fuck you, you blood-sucking asshole!" 

"You done yet?" 

"Yeah." 

"Okay. Back to begging." 

*** 

"Yo, Dead Man!" 

"WHAT?" 

"Jeez! Leave me my head on my shoulders, Cal." 

"Sorry." Calhoun turned. "Someone keeps on dialing and hanging up on my cell 
phone." 

"Who's got the number?" asked Ray, digging in the refrigerator. Strangely, he was in the mood for blood. That happened only rarely but when the urge hit nothing else would do. 

"Just you guys. Von. McGuire." 

"Can ya trace it?" 

"Not so far. Sorry. I'm just pissed." 

"Fer a change. Hey, any of that O-negative left?" 

*** 

A family outing required roughly the same amount of planning and timing as a 
prisoner exchange. Cars, kids, food, toys, music, blankets, drinks, pets, moon cycles, and the weather were all carefully considered, and location, of 
course, was everything. Invariably, their picnics started after four and 
lasted until midnight, giving the vampires in the family an opportunity to 
socialize. This particular picnic was also doubling as a birthday party for 
Fraser, Lucia, Tony Jr., Cecil, Dief, and Ma. 

Winded from a game of tag and sun burnt around the edges, Ray Kowalski 
plopped down on the picnic bench next to Calhoun and across from Turnbull, 
smiling at their raised eyebrows. 

"Whew! When's dinner?" he panted. 

Calhoun gave him a cool and superior look. "Are you talking to me?" 

"Like you care about dinner." 

Fraser approached the shaded table and Kowalski lit up, smiling fondly up at 
the Mountie. Fraser wasn't much better at hiding the fact that he was wild 
over the detective as he smiled back. 

"Shall I start the grill?" 

"You read his mind," commented Calhoun. 

An hour later, with dinner served, the entire crowd lounged about the 
cluster of picnic tables. Nikko, as always, had the radio on to listen to 
Joe as he dedicated every song under the sun to her. Cassie rolled her eyes. 
Joe Dick was a constant source of entertainment, at least. 

It was then that Cassie realized Joe, in all his arrogance, had overlooked 
something of vital importance. 

Music wasn't playing. What was being broadcasted was a private conversation 
between himself and the werewolf, Billy. 

Nikko looked stunned. 

Cassie was close to cheering. 

Adam almost choked. 

Sophia stood up on her seat. "Daaaaaaaaaddyyyyyyyyy! Joe wants you!" 

Calhoun came over immediately. "What, honey? Sit down. You know you're not-" 

"...why's he got to be such a major fuck about this whole thing?" Joe was 
saying. Calhoun froze, staring at the radio. Nikko looked as if she wanted 
to run away. 

Ray wandered over. "Hey, Dead Ma-" 

"QUIET!" thundered Calhoun. Dead silence followed. Tom came along with a 
plate of food and stood next to the Sabbat, gaping. He even stopped chewing 
on the mouse he'd caught and barbequed. 

"Joe, your problem is you're afraid of succeeding. You think you want 
something, you get too close, you deliberately screw it up so you don't have 
to deal with the greater responsibility. THAT'S why he threatened your ass." 

"That's not why!" 

"Then why?" 

"She was three days old!" 

"Huh? How old is she now?" 

"She'll be four in August." 

"You're shittin' me." 

"Nope." 

"Christ, what the hell did they feed her? Plutonium?" 

"My boss did it to her." 

Seated at one of the picnic tables, Ray Vecchio was chuckling. Stella was 
enjoying it while Irene was dying of embarrassment for all parties. 

"She got any sisters?" asked Billy, laughing. 

Adam leaped up in his seat, looking as if he wanted to jump through the radio and find a way to throttle both men. Cassie's eyes got bigger still. Fraser walked up to his Ray, having gone to fetch them more drinks, and he joined the ranks of the speechless. 

"Sicko," snapped Joe. "Shit!" Something was thrown in the studio, hitting the wall with a bang. 

"Ask! What's the worst he can say? No?" 

"What if he does?" 

"Then you ask again and again until you drive him fucking nuts!" 

"You haven't met him! He's already nuts! The dude is scary ass and looks like he left sanity behind sometime during the sixties! Major freak show!" 

Tom blinked, not daring to sneak a glance at James. The Sabbat likewise blinked, stunned. Ray had to look away so he didn't laugh at the expression on Calhoun's face. 

Nikko looked up with wide, frightened gray eyes. "Daddy..." 

Calhoun had yet to move. "Prince Kowalski? Your cell phone, please." 

Ray slapped the phone into Calhoun's hand, afraid to refuse. 

Calhoun dialed the number from memory. Over the radio, they heard the hotline to the station ring. 

"What the fuck do ya want?" demanded Joe Dick. 

"Mr. Dick?" Calhoun said pleasantly. "This is Major Freak Show and it was the forties." 

Silence. Nothing moved, nobody said a word. 

Suddenly two screams broke over the airway and cursing the likes of which none of them had ever heard erupted as the two friends realized what had happened. There was scrambling and banging and another scream from Billy and a deafening squeal and then 'O, Canada' started playing halfway through the tune. 

Calhoun hung up the phone. "Thank you, Prince Kowalski." 

*** 

Later that night, with the dishes all washed and the children cleaned up and 
put to bed, Tom entered the steam-filled bathroom as James got out of the 
shower. Why he bothered with hot showers nobody could ever figure out. Tom 
suspected too many negative associations with cold water. 

"I'm sure he didn't mean it, James." 

Calhoun was toweling what was left of his hair dry. He'd grown rather fond 
of this stupid haircut. 

"Yeah, well, I'm sure the Americans didn't mean to drop that H-bomb on 
Nagasaki, either, but you know, damnit, these things just happen." 

Tom took the towel and began to dry the vampire. "He's terrified of you." 

"Why does everybody assume I'm such an ogre when it comes to my daughters? 
Shouldn't I be protective of a three-year old? Is that such a sin? 
Especially when the object of her affection is not the most upright member 
of society." 

"They're in love." 

"And I don't have a problem with that. What I have a problem with is the fact that Joe Dick can't seem to look me in the eye and ask me flat-out if he can court my daughter." 

Tom guffawed. "Court?" 

"Yeah. Court. Because she's three even though she's got the body and 
intellect of a twenty-one-year old woman. If he's that serious, he'll wait." 

"How long?" 

"Until she's seven. He's an impatient, selfish, self-centered, overgrown, 
juvenile delinquent and if he wants to marry Nikko he's going to learn some 
patience." 

Tom digested that last sentence. "Sooooo...you're not saying no." 

Calhoun gave him a look. "I never said no." 

A slow, goofy smile spread across Tom's face. "I, uh, gotta go!" He planted a swift kiss on the vampire and ran out. 

"Shut the damned door!" screamed Calhoun after him, naked to the world. 

*** 

He spent an entire day staring at the phone, debating. 

It all came down to a question of not how much he wanted her, but how much 
he needed her. 

Billy had run out of advice. Tom had called, making no mention of the radio 
broadcast but assuring him that Calhoun was open to negotiations. 

All it needed was a phone call. 

Billy was out doing werewolf-related things and in his quest for time to think, he was having a 'Yes' marathon. He sat with his arms folded on the counter, his chin resting on his arms, baseball cap resting on his head. 

"Call her father." 

He barely glanced over as Fraser Sr. stepped into the studio. He opened his 
mouth to answer, then shut it again. 

"Are you happier with her or by yourself?" 

He was actually relieved to see the old Mountie. 

"Why do you keep coming back?" he asked. "I treat you like shit, I mock you out, and I abuse your friends and I can't get rid of you. Why is that?" 

"Because I can tell you really don't mean it all." 

"Bullshit." 

"Liar. You lie to everyone, Joe." 

"I don't lie to her!" 

"That's a good start. Some of us, though, can see through the lies. Why do you think Billy came back?" 

"Guilt." 

"Maybe. Partially. But maybe he's here simple because he likes you." The Mountie shrugged. "I like you and I think you need a friend more often than you're willing to admit. So I come and ignore you when you get offensive and I listen when you start to go on and on about the world. Now, tell me, and tell me the truth - are you happier with or without her?" 

He was still a long time. Finally he said one word. "With." 

"Then call." 

*** 

"Calhoun." 

"Major?" 

"Yes." 

"I have to ask you..." 

"Yes." 

"Um...Oh. This is Joe. Joe Di-uh...Mulgrew." 

"Yes." 

"I have - that is, I /want/ to ask you something. Sir." 

"Yes." 

"Nikko." 

"Yes." 

"She really means a lot to me." 

"Yes." 

"I know she means a whole lot to you, too, and Tom. I mean, I'm sure you 
don't threaten everyone that talks to her." 

"Yes." 

"Okay, so you do. I don't blame you. I mean, she's beautiful." 

"Yes." 

"Actually, she's gorgeous." 

"Yes." 

"So...I want to ask you if I could..." 

"Yes." 

"I mean, if you'd let me-" 

"Yes." 

"I wouldn't take her anywhere that wasn't safe. Not that there's a bad 
section of this town or anything. Someplace public with lots of lights and 
I'd have her back whenever you said." 

"Yes." 

There was a long pause. 

"Yes?" 

"Yes." 

"As in, yes, I can take Nikko out?" 

"Yes." 

"Fucking fabulous! Hey, then is it all right if we-" 

"NO!" 

*** 

Calhoun hung up the phone and just stood in the living room, looking stunned. "I can't believe I just gave someone by the name of Joe Dick permission to take my daughter out." 

Biting his lip to keep from laughing aloud, Tom looked up at his lover. "Why's that?" 

"Oh, come on! He's dead, for God's sake!" 

"So are you." 

"I'm undead." 

"You're just upset because he looks so much like you." 

"He does not!" 

"Does so." 

"Does not!" 

"Does so!"