Hey guys! On time for Valentine 2016, I have finished this little One Shot. :) It was requested by someone on anon on Tumblr. Marcellia really is not my OTP (Milo/Marcia all the way, yay!), but I have to admit that I really appreciated writing it and that it nearly feels like cheating because I develop feelings for it. So maybe you'll read more M&M (that's how Angie Sage herself called them, I guess. There is something in the dark back of my mind...) FF's on my account in the future, who knows? Actually, there will be a Marciella BrOTP One Shot in the future because someone requested it.

But now, happy Valentine's Day, a happy Septimus Heap Ship Day (for everyone who participates) and good luck with ignoring all the mistakes that made it into this OS.

"Found anything useful?" She crosses the room with small steps, anxious to not step on books, papers or the cat that her visitor brought along. Her living room has never been a mess before, actually she is meticulous about tidiness, but now it looks like as if it was hit by a bomb... It nearly gives her headache to see a part of her apartment like this. But they need the space, and it will not stay like that for forever, hopefully.

A man sits on the floor with outstretched legs and his back leaned against the couch which is cluttered with books, his coat, books, files and books. "No, I'm sorry, Marcia."

"No problem, did not find anything either." With a deep sigh, she sits down next to him. Why are Vampyres so insufficiently studied? The Wizard Tower, the Manuscriptorium, the Palace, all of them have books that at least mention this species, but not even half of them contain anything useful. One week ago, the security wizards have found a young woman outside of the Castle, her throat being ripped open, her body being bloodless. After considering every scenario, Vampyres are the most likely explanation.

"Why the hell are they portrayed the way they are?", she asks, more herself than him, thus, she does not expect an answer.

The man groans and stretches his arms. He is tired and can think about something – actually very much – less frustrating than searching for information about Vampyres in every single book and paper, although it is more a hint hunt than a fast research with many veritable goldmines of information. "I think the image people have in mind when thinking about Vampyres is deadly. Don't people believe that those creatures don't have a heartbeat and are infected people or undead?"

"Yes, that's the prevalent opinion. But everyone who gets their teeth into something knows that this is impossible. Alone the brain needs oxygen, which gets transported by blood which comes from the heart. And a dead heart... Well, I don't think you'll be able then to drink anything anymore." She goes through the list of catchphrases to see if there is a chapter in the book that could be useful. "And undead... isn't that a synonym for alive?"

"It describes someone between life and death."

"So it's a Wiedergänger?", she grimaces while opening a certain page, hoping – no, praying – that she will finally find something interesting. "Or is that a dead person who came back to life again?"

"It's a word that has its origins in your mother tongue, so I can't tell.", he answers and shrugs before closing the book and putting it gently on the small pile next to him. Those books are probably more worth than his house, he can't put them away so thoughtlessly, but Marcia Overstrand lives here, works with the books every day, and she knows their condition. You can't say that she is not careful, she simply has another feeling for them as he has.

Marcia nods, a bit absent-minded and engrossed in the text. "I think I found something interesting. 'The bite of a Vampyre is not so lascivious, erotic and desirable how one may think. It is a bite of enormous force into the throat of a victim, right into an artery, so the Vampyre does not have to suck more than they have to drink. Usually, they rip the whole throat open for which he or she uses his or her teeth.' Could the murderer really be a Vampyre?" What Marcia does not feel is how he tenses up as soon as she crosses her legs, causing her knee to pierce into his thigh for a short moment.

"It's not how I would want to find my end.", he replies while kneading his own hands. "But we should consider it."

"But we still don't know why they do this, who Vampyres really are and how you find one.", she hands him the book over to let him read the whole text himself. "Theoretically, it could be anyone, even a pervert."

"But I find a pervert very... unlikely, minding the fact how the throat looked like." It still makes him feel thick to think about the sight of the corpse; immediately he becomes as white as a wall. "Didn't you see the imprints of the teeth?"

"No, because I was too busy to turn you and Septimus around after one of you nearly threw up and the other one nearly fainted because of a sudden panic attack." She looks at him with an amused face expression. "But I saw Dandras autopsy report."

"Not everyone can be as hard as you are.", he replies and places a marker between the two book pages. "But back to our topic... Have you found more?"

"Sharpened teeth. Not only two, but all which you can see while smiling. Vampyres seem to be normal people who filed their teeth." She sights again and puts the book on his and her leg so he can read it as well. "And you?"

"Not very much.", he smiles apologetically. "But I think I found a good book."

They spend the next few minutes in silence. Both of them read, take a few notes, cause the papers and books around them to crinkle whenever they move.

Suddenly Marcia speaks up. "There, again! Something about Vampyres not blinking or so. It just does not make sense." He can hear an angry tone in her voice and with one toss she throws it into the waste basket next to the chimney. It's the third in one week and every new book that describes the stereotypical Vampyre makes her more and more irritated. He can understand her, this research really is frustrating and time is at their tail, but why throwing it away? His eyes are wide open as he speaks. "Did you just throw the book away?"

"Yes, I did, obviously."

"How can you throw a book away without a second thought? Heretic..." With heartache he looks at the waste basket, regretting the decision, although it had not been his. In his opinion, that's not how you treat books.

"Because those information are wrong. Simply wrong. Vampyres like the ones the book described don't exist, and you know that. It's not only us who know it, it got refuted by most other books and official papers." She shrugs. Why should she keep a book that contains misleading information? Elegant she places her left hand on his shoulder to support herself, leans over and reaches for her cup of tea on the table next to him. For a short moment, she can feel his breath on her neck because he turned his head in surprise, and a small smile of apology appears on her face. "Sorry."

"It's... it's okay. But please, never throw any other book away while I am around ever again." He groans exhausted from work and leans back. "And take my notes if you want. I found a bit out about a cult and different forms of Vampyres."

"Really might be interesting.", she mumbles, takes his notes and takes a sip of her tea. "Different forms of Vampyres... I have never heard about that."

"You haven't heard a lot about Vampyres in general before we started with the research.", he comments and looks at her profile. Her curly hair is a mess and although she is not as pale as he is, he can see dark circles under her eyes. Never before he has paid attention to her small and nearly not visible freckles on her nose and cheeks, actually he never knew that she has them. She looks gorgeous, as always, and not even the days in which she barely catches sleep seem to be able to change it. He sights again, this time, to make himself let go of his thoughts because there are more important things right now than the beauty of his workmate.

"It's a mess. It's such a mess. I have not a single idea anymore where the start and where the end is. Why do we even do this? What is the good of this?" She stands up and goes to the table on which they have collected all clues that could be useful. They have a corpse. They have the autopsy report. They have a clue what could be the murderer. But now that there are many forms and cults she cannot be sure anymore what kind of Vampyres is the cause of the death of Miranda. It is a jungle of information and there is no question schedule with which she can find out what it really was. They have to put the schedule together themselves in this case and no one can be sure if the information they found are right. And the next problem is: Most of the time there are only general descriptions about Vampyres and the book Marcellus found is the only one that talks about different forms.

Suddenly she can feel a hand between her shoulder blades and after turning around, she looks into Marcellus eyes that brim over with calmness, for a change. "Marcia, everything will be alright. We have to find the murderer, for the security, but it is not impossible. Look, every kind of Vampyres is different to the beings we know. They are unlike humans, wolverines, et cetera. We can do this, believe me. We only need a general overview to know what awaits us."

"Thank you." She hugs him spontaneously, thankful for his support. Alone she would be lost. Septimus, Dandra and Marcellus, they are the people that make her keep going and staying strong, no matter how hard the situation is, how big the desire to run away is. The feud between the Alchemist and her is buried, is gone, is no topic anymore and it relieves her. It even makes her happy in a way. She gets calmer and calmer with every second she stays in the hug, it makes her catch hope and strength again. An ExtraOrdinary Wizard is strong, he or she usually is, but they all have their weak moments, because everyone is only a normal human, deep on the inside.

Hesitantly he puts his arms around her, being surprised by the hug. The last person who has hugged him had been his wife, all those years ago. He misses her, he really does, but Marcia's presence is surprisingly comforting and does not remind him of her, not a single bit. They are so... different. His wife was a quiet and patient person, someone who always has had a nice word and a smile on her lips. She and Marcellus complemented each other, they were similar in many ways. Marcia instead puts her foot down, is impatient, has more temperament than anyone else he knows and is a bit bossy, but is always willing to help at the same time, would sacrifice herself for others, is a real fighter. He admires her and he understands why Septimus chose her instead of him, besides the fact that Magyk is his life and love. He can learn much from her, everyone can, and the chemistry between them creates the perfect working atmosphere. Marcellus is glad that they don't fight all the time anymore. Sure, they have their disagreements and their bickering, but all in all it's alright.

"Back to work?" She does not leave the hug, but she takes a step back to be able to look into his face. A smile plays around her lips and suddenly he feels an urge and a feeling that he believed lost and gone.

With a nervous feeling in his stomach, he nods and replies her smile. "Let's hope we'll find something."

But instead of sitting down with a book again she leaves the room and sneaks a peak around the corner. Obviously, she has heard something that attracts her attention and after a few seconds, it is clear what. The door gets slammed shut and someone seems to throw their shoes into a corner which makes Marcia breathe out heavily.

"Septimus, where the hell where you?", she says and he can hear her bossiness out of her voice. "And what happened to your face?"

"Not so important.", her apprentice mutters into his not existing beard and walks straight into the living room. "Hello, Marcellus."

"Septimus, I won't ask you again. What. Happened?" Marcia won't accept an evasive answer, it is clear to everyone who knows her. "And put something on the scratches, I don't want them to become infected."

"Got into trouble, okay?", he answers irritated and picks up the cat that slept on a pillow on the floor. "But Dandra has found out more, as well as I did."

"Screw it, in which trouble did you get and what happened to your face exactly." Marcia's look was not so soft anymore; it got darker and if Marcellus was Septimus, he would tell the whole story immediately. "And sit down. SIT!"

Surprised by her tone her apprentice sits down, somewhere between the coat of the Castle Alchemist and some books. "We... so, Beetle and I... We investigated the murder scene again. After a while, we felt watched and I ran after... it. Marissa was in the forest as well and she pushed me against a tree. That's where the scratches come from."

"So Marissa knows more?", Marcellus asks and looks at Marcia who shrugs and leaves the room again. "Do you think we should talk to her?"

"No, Marcellus, I don't think we should talk to someone who might be able to help us. How stupid would that be?" Her voice is dripping with sarcasm. "But first, let's take a look at what Dandra found out."

She comes back with her usual big steps, but now with a messy hair bun and a tube in her hand which she chucks to her apprentice. "Put it on the scratches or I will do it."

It's sweet how she cares for Septimus and it's another reason for Marcellus why he thinks that the boy made the right decision. When he first met this woman he would never ever have thought that she is a loving tutor who keeps an eye on her apprentice. Actually, when he first met her, he didn't really see her as a human with a heart and a genial side inside of her. It makes him happy to see them like that and it makes him like her even more. Although her tone is something that she could improve.

"But now, hurry up, Marcellus and let us take a look at Dandra's report." She makes her way through the mess towards him, makes him sit down on the armchair and sits down on the armrest of it. Her hand is placed on his shoulder again as they look through the notes of the doctor of the Wizard Tower, which causes him to tense up again. Since they announced their partnership Marcia has lost her reservation towards him and he has no idea what he should think of it.

"So... Dandra found more wounds?"

"No, she didn't. She only wrote it down for fun." A comeback with her own weapon: Sarcasm. He is nearly proud of himself.

As a response to his dare to talk back, she rolls her eyes before she answers. "And she found out that it has to be a human with long blond curls. Probably a woman?"

"I guess." He looks into her piercing green eyes and for a second or two, the world stands still. No one of them moves, he can see how Marcia has to find her collectedness back, he can see in her face expression that it is not only him who is captured in the moment.

It stops when Septimus clears his throat and catches the attention of his tutor. "Let's act like this weird moment never happened and let's focus on work again. Is there more in the report or do you go to Marissa now?"

"No, that's it, so..." She stands up again, strokes the creases out of her skirt and breathes out loud. "Let's go? Marcellus, do you want to come with us, or do you want a break?"

"A break would be awesome, but I will accompany you." He stands up as well and puts on his coat. "And Septimus?"

"I think, Marcia included me automatically, so do I have a choice?" Septimus groans, stretches his complete body out for a second and looks at his tutor who is already in her shoes and her brand new purple trenchcoat with the azure blue belt.

She looks at him akimbo. "You always have a choice, and now hurry up."

"I doubt that, but good to know.", Septimus mutters and joins her and Marcellus in the corridor. "How good that I never undressed my coat." He ignores the sour face expression of Marcia.

"As if anyone would have a choice when she commands or decides something.", Marcellus whispers into the ear of his former apprentice and grimaces.

Is her hair still tamed? Is the little bit of makeup still where she put it this morning? Does her dress... Of course it does. Everything is alright, dear god!

She bangs on the door forcefully, as always, no matter if there is a doorbell or not. Who has the time to wait for someone who answers the door in case of a broken doorbell? Principles and life hacks.

It takes not even a minute until Marcellus opens the door, already irritated. "You know that there are other ways to call attention to your approach?"

"I'm sorry, the next time I'll throw small stones against your window.", she answers a bit coldly. "Can I come in now? I don't want to camp here."

He rolls his eyes. The woman is maybe three minutes here and she already annoys him, but sadly it's not her record, which amounts to one minute and fifteen seconds.

Marcia does not wait for an answer, she squeezes past him and places her cloak on the coat rack before she goes into the kitchen and sits down on a chair. "The shirt looks good on you. Better than your usual shoulder pad stuff, although it's still a bit... very vintage. But it suits you."

"Did I just hear a compliment out of your mouth?" He has trouble to stifle a smile as he joins her in the kitchen. "I feel flattered."

"You should. But actually, it was more an appeal because this casual shirt looks much better than what the world usually sees on you." She opens her bag and puts documents on the table. "Do you have tea?"

"But you are allowed to run around like Miss Eccentric in person?", he replies while he fills water into the teapot.

She keeps her eyes glued to him, every small movement is observed by her. "I live my individuality despite the uniform obligation."

"And my freedom does not allow me eccentricity?" He turns around to her for a short moment to give her a 'you-can't-be-all-there' look. "Sounds like a paradox to me."

"Freedom means a wider range of options and possibilities. I have to make the best out of my possibilities." She raises both of her eyebrows but looks amused. There is nothing better than a discussion with him, no matter how trivial or short it is.

"Give up, Marcia, I'll win this and you know it."

"You wish. But lucky for you... I am not only here because I want a cup of tea, although I would not have anything against a visit only for tea. Work. Here." She taps with her fingernails on the pile of paper in front of her. "We have some progress regarding the case."

"Which progress? Did Marissa's information bring you a step nearer to the... thing?" He places a cup of the herb tea that she loves so much in front of her and sits down next to her to have a better look at what she brought with her. The interrogation of the young witch was only a few days ago, he did not imagine her to find out something so fast, especially because he was not able to make sense of the information.

"A step? We have her. It was a young woman, completely insane." She browses through the pile and hands him over a sketch. It shows a young and blonde woman with curly hair and brown eyes. She has delicate features, but you can see the will to fight and murder in her eyes, although it is only a sketch, made with a black pen and a glaze. He can't help himself but feeling scared immediately.

"Who is she?", he asks and touches the face with his fingertips. "I've never seen her before."

"Yeah, but you've also never seen the daughter of the baker who usually ambles along the market, so that's not a surprise to me.", Marcia replies and grins for a short moment. Something very rare for her. "But to be honest, we don't know it either. She does not talk to us, she spits us in our faces every time we stand face to face with her. But she loves Septimus, god knows why. She does not tell him anything either and I don't want him near her alone. 'So pure, so innocent'... That's what she whispered when she saw him the first time."

"You should keep him away from her." Marcellus shivers and drinks a few sips of his tea. "You know how he usually operates; without our knowledge."

"It is a wonder that we all are still alive. He brought me into so many dangerous situations, I can't count it anymore.", she grunts and looks on the sideboard where he keeps whiskey and wine. "Can I have a dash?"

He stands up again and opens one of his best whiskey bottles. "As if it would bother you. Don't you love the danger?"

"Got me, but life-threatening situations are not my favourite ones. I love solving problems and hunting for clues, but I hate standing face to face with someone who wants to murder me. A big dragon would be someone like that or Dom Daniel."

"Understandable. But do you allow me a question?" He pours a bit of the alcohol into their cups before he sits down again.

She stirs in her tea. "Of course, go on."

"Why is it Dom? Was this his last name? Did he switch his names? From Daniel Dom to Dom Daniel?" Neither Septimus nor Simon or Marcia talk about the former ExtraOrdinary Wizard a lot, although he would kill for more information about the man. Anyway, he influenced the past of most people he knows and he had influenced the whole Castle. A harmless question that someone might answer for a change.

But Marcia shrugs. "I have no idea. My suggestion would be that he put his sexual preferences into-"

Marcellus nearly chokes on his tea, but she only closes her eyes for a few seconds irritated before she continues speaking.

"Grow up. Into his name, but it's not the most likely thing, is it? Nevertheless, I am certain that it stands for Domination. Of the world, of the Castle, of something. I don't care anymore, the dragon ate him, what do I want more?" She grins again and drinks her tea in one go. "And we don't always share the same humour as it seems."

"We share the same humour very seldom, but it does not make you less pleasant." He follows suit and empties his cup as well.

Marcia cocks her eyebrows in amusement. "Pleasant? That's not the prevalent opinion on me."

"You can be charming and since we don't fight over Septimus anymore and have our partnership you are quite affable. In your own way, of course.", he answers and looks away. "Actually, there are more people who appreciate you than you might think." What on earth is he doing? He won't be able to ever look into her eyes ever again after he talks himself into real trouble.

She leans back in her chair and looks at him, still very amused. "I could listen to that all day. Go on, anything else that makes me feel flattered?"

He starts kneading his hands again, nervous, because he has to choose his words very carefully from now on. "I... I know that you are a very confident woman, that you are content with yourself, but I also know that your only inner weakness: You feel lonely. I'm so sorry if I am wrong, it's just the way I think you feel. Only assumptions. But I really have the feeling that you feel lonely and that it bothers you a lot."

"It's because of my job, I've never worried about all of that." She does not seem angry, she only looks at him, neutral, but curious. "Go on."

Does she wait until he gets entangled? "I guess sometimes that you ask yourself why you are so lonely, although Dandra, Septimus and Milo Banda are close to you. You probably ask yourself sometimes if it is your fault because people react edgy to you very often and have the tendency to talk about you a lot, but not very positive, at least, that's what you know. Am I right?"

She does not answer, she only looks at him, silent, emotionless.

He sighs mentally. He is scuppered. "But it's... You are a wonderful person and people don't think as bad as you think about you... Never doubt yourself. I... I just want to assure you of what your mind already knows, but what is hard for your heart to believe: People only gossip about you because of your job and because of your interesting person, people keep you on distance because they don't know your intentions for them, but all in all the folk likes you and there are many people who would want to get to know you better or who admire you. And I just killed myself with this speech, didn't I?" He smiles agonized. "I'm sorry."

For a short moment, nothing happens and he does not dare to look at her. Rather he looks into his cup, into his empty cup where he should put whiskey in.

Suddenly he hears the creaking of her chair and he feels her hands on the sides of his face. Her warm lips touch his cheeks for a short moment before she presses them on his.

Surprised he does not move. Is this what he wants? He has no idea. Right now he does not know anything anymore. His emotional life is a mess, his mind buzzes. His wife, Marcia, 500 years alone, his Alchemy, everything. Her lips on his feel so good, but are those the feelings romantic feelings for Marcia or are those random feelings that are triggered by 500 years of being alone?

She stops and she places her hands on his shoulders, but he can still feel her breath, fastened by her nervousness, against his lips.

"I'm sorry, I should not have done this only in my interest.", she whispers, unsure what to do now. It was an overreaction, it is not usual for her, his words are the reason why, but... She does not regret her decision. It probably messes a lot up – of course it does, don't be silly! –, but it feels right somehow. She never expected to have feelings for him, of all people him. The Alchemist that tried to take the person that means the most to her away from her. But it's over and since they have this partnership and since Septimus thought Marcellus would move in because they looked like a couple to him... It gave her much substance to think about. She wants to play with open cards, she has feelings for him, she can't deny it. Which feelings, that's something she has to find out and this kiss told her a lot about her inner situation. But she won't corner him. If he does not want their partnership to find a new direction, then she has to live with it. That's what her emotional encounters with Milo taught her. Milo... It was him who encouraged her to show her feelings towards Marcellus because he is her best friend, because they found out that they don't work out as a couple, that they need the friendship, but not each other in their bed.

She feels his lips against hers and two hands that pull her on his lap. His decision is clear to her, at least she hopes that this is a decision and not the reaction of his penis. She replies the kiss, which causes him to moan quietly, which causes her to have a shiver running down her spine. The kiss is soft, innocent, just like she expected the first kiss with him to be. He is not a person for fast passion; all there is, are his arms around her, his caressing lips, his tongue that plays with hers after a while. Her whole body prickles, happiness causes something to fly around in her stomach, her lips are not able to stop smiling, no matter how intensive the kiss is.

She wraps her arms around his neck and snuggles up to him, having the world around them forgotten. She missed... this. Actually, she does not even know what she missed exactly, but she missed it and now she has it. How long does the kiss already last? Seconds, minutes, hours?

"What's Blood Magyk?", he whispers against her lips, absent-minded, before he searches her lips with his again, but Marcia pulls her head back.

"Blood Magyk? What makes you think of it?" She crooks her head and looks at him confused. "It's a very dangerous and awful kind of Magyk. Blood of the mage or a victim is used to make spells and charms more powerful, but they usually use the blood of victims. In the past, it was also practised here, but the effects of it are... problematic, so it is forbidden now and no one is interested in trying it. It is nearly forgotten. Septimus and I know about it, as well as many other ExtraOrdinary Wizards, but not everyone."

"I read about it in context with Vampyres, but I did not know that it is something a normal mage can do.", he answers and opens his eyes wide. "The book, it's on the table."

Immediately she stands up, sits down on her own chair again and opens the book. "Look through the documents, maybe there is a hint that the woman uses Blood Magyk."

Excited they start working, the kiss is not of importance anymore. The case has their full attention again and it is as if they work with more energy than before.

"Marcia?" He does not look up from the papers.

"Huh?"

"Thank you."

"Thank you for what?", she asks confused and cocks her eyebrows.

"For making me part of your stirring life."