Nick, who had been staring over Tracy's shoulder at her computer screen, looked up, but Tracy was the one brave enough (or would that be dumb enough?) to inquire, "What's up, Captain?"

Reese dropped the paper onto Tracy's desk. "Have you seen this morning's edition yet?" Of course they had not; they were both still on duty and the department's only copy -- the first edition of the day -- had just arrived.

Nick picked up the section of newspaper and was quickly caught by the headline, "REAL LIFE SUPERMAN AVERTS CRIME." Nick raised a skeptical eyebrow; the Toronto Star Times was usually better at avoiding such sensationalism.

"Some guy is out playing vigilante on my watch!" Reese said for Tracy's benefit since Nick was still hogging the newspaper.

Nick finally decided to share from the article he had been silently reading, "Says here that this man prevented a mugging and foiled the robbery of an all-night grocery store."

"Let me see, Nick." Tracy practically tore the paper out of her partner's hands. She quickly scanned the article for the eyewitness accounts. "One witness said that he was wearing black tights and a dark-red cape. And this lady said that despite the mask she could tell that he was 'extremely handsome.' Oh, come on!" Tracy rolled her eyes.

Reese took the newspaper back from Tracy and read a bit further. "Get this bit: the owner of the market said that the robber actually shot this ... hero" -- the word left a bad taste in Reese's mouth -- "but the bullet didn't even phase the guy."

"That's impossible, Captain. The robber must have missed."

"Of course he missed, Vetter! But sooner or later, the perp isn't gonna miss and this vigilante is gonna get killed -- then it's gonna be my problem!" Reese was more than annoyed by what he had read. "Ya know, it's hard enough for the officers on this force to do their jobs without some 'concerned citizen' getting mixed up in it." Reese's voice trailed off and he got a far away look in his eyes, just like Nick sometimes did. Tracy figured it was a guy thing -- none of her female friends ever did it -- and she supposed that she would never understand what that look really meant.

"Um, Cap?" Tracy interrupted Reese's distant silence. "We'll keep an eye out for this guy, okay? And if we see him, we'll talk to him."

"If you find him, you read him the riot act!" Reese clenched the newspaper tightly in his hand.

"Okay. If we find him," Nick agreed. "Come on, Trace. Natalie will be waiting for us down at the Morgue." The two detectives grabbed their things and started to head out.

"Wow, Nick. The Captain sure is in a bunch about this vigilante."

"Well, you probably haven't been around long enough, Tracy, to have a helpful citizen get in your way and blow your arrest ... or worse."

"Well, I hope it never happens to me."

Tracy hated when she ran out of milk; she needed it for her coffee, especially her first cup of the day!

She lazily swung the plastic sack containing the small carton of low-fat milk as she walked back to her apartment from the corner market. Tracy yawned widely and rubbed her eyes. People always looked at her funny when she was so tired at 7 PM; of course, they were not as funny as the looks she got when she was wide awake and full of energy at 4 AM. Working the night shift had been really hard for her to adjust to, but she had finally settle into it and was even beginning to enjoy it.

Suddenly, from the shadows between two parked cars, a kid with a big gun jumped out in front of Tracy. "Gimme your money! NOW!" The kid waved the gun at her; he did not look like he was all that familiar with firearms, which made him unpredictable and very dangerous.

Tracy decided it would be extremely unwise to go for her own gun, so, instead, she tried to calm the boy. "Okay, I'm just going to reach into my pocket. Nice and slow. Okay? Nothing to worry about." She drew out the change she had received at the market, all coins -- she had only brought enough money to buy the milk.

"I said your money -- cash!" The kid was edgy and becoming more nervous by the second. He started to wave the gun more frantically at Tracy as he glanced quickly from side to side.

"This is all I have. Really. Here, take it." Once the kid turned to leave, then she would be able to safely pull her gun and attempt an arrest. Until then, she just had to stay alive. She held out the coins to him in the flat of her hand.

Without warning, a man dropped right from the sky, landing between Tracy and the thief. It was the vigilante, indeed dressed in tights and a cape. The boy, even more startled than Tracy by the appearance of the costumed hero, fired point-blank at the man.

A burning pain ripped across Tracy's arm. She staggered back and slumped down against the side of the building. Her body temperature dropped and her heart raced; mentally, she fought to control her bodily responses to the wound and prevent the onset of shock. As the detective breathed deeply and slowly, she began to feel in control of her senses again.

She looked back at the vigilante, now in the process of tying up the kid who had tried to rob her. For some reason, she remembered what the one witness in the newspaper had been quoted as saying about him being so attractive. At that moment, Tracy had to agree. "Very," she thought, then shook it away in an effort to stave off what must be the onset of delirium.

The masked vigilante finally came over to check on her. He sucked in a bit of air through his teeth as soon as he saw that she was wounded. He ripped off a large piece of his cape and pressed the wadded cloth against the flesh wound on her left arm. Tracy looked up at the man and met his eyes; she lost herself in their depths. Something familiar tickled the back of her mind. They were such lovely eyes, so similar to... to....

"Vachon? What the hell are you doing?!"

"You recognize me?" He sounded both truly surprised and disappointed.

"Do I look like Lois Lane to you? Did you really think a silly little mask would hide your true identity? I'm not colossally stupid, you know!" Tracy glanced down at his ridiculous, though form-fitting, costume. "Who the hell are you supposed to be, anyway? And don't you dare say 'BAT-man'!" she warned the moonlighting vampire.

"I hadn't really come up with a name yet."

"And why are you doing this?"

"I got the idea last Sunday, while we were watching that show 'Lois and Clark' over at your place. Besides, your job kinda looks like fun, so I thought I could, you know, help out." Vachon shrugged his shoulders and grinned a wide, adorable smile at her.

Tracy smiled an indulgent, though weak, smile and shook her head at the incorrigible little vampire. She raised her right hand to his sweet face, as if to caress his for-once-clean-shaven cheek; instead, she grabbed his ear and sharply pulled his head down to the concrete sidewalk. "If you ever do anything this assinine again, I will personally hunt you down with a flaming stake. Do you understand me?"

"Uh... uh-huh." He tried to nod his head, but her grip on his ear was like a vice.

Tracy finally heard approaching sirens. "Thank goodness someone called the police," she thought. "Vachon? Go! Before the cops get here and haul your butt downtown."

When she finally released his ear, he was instantly on his feet. Vachon turned and, with head hung low, started to walk off. He gave her a sad, backward glance before sulking-off down the nearest alley.

Tracy felt bad for having been so mean to him, but, dammit, she could not even force herself to be perky before she had her first cup of coffee, even under the best of circumstances. But... he had been trying to help, which was sweet, and he did look pretty cute in that super-hero outfit....

"V Man!"

She smiled and could not help but laugh; unfortunately, that caused a bolt of pain to shoot down her arm. She was grimacing from the pain just as the police and paramedics arrived on the scene.